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artificialqueens · 2 years

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Wouldn't Trade Her For Gold (Camgeria) - Athena2

Summary: Camden is a librarian who helps treasure hunters on their adventure. After Angeria seeks her help, Camden finds herself having an adventure of her own.

A/N: Figured I'd add it here as well, but just wanted to say that I've changed my AO3 username from doctorbuffypotterlock79 to buffyathena!!

I've been working on this for a while, and I'm so happy to finally post it! I really hope you like this, and please leave some feedback if you like! Thank you so, so much to Writ for betaing this and being so encouraging, you're the best<3

Title from Gold from the movie/musical Once

Camden has got to stop falling for adventurers that come in the library.

It’s a bit ridiculous, really, how many people throw open the heavy library doors and run to her desk, asking to see the special collections room, where she’ll find them an old map or a book with information they need to find treasure hidden somewhere in the city. It’s an old city, with a millennium's worth of gold, artifacts, and jewels supposedly hidden all over, and it’s an old library, with tens of thousands of books, rare documents, and ancient maps, so it’s only natural for treasure hunters to make this their first stop.

She wishes they didn’t do it every day, though. Especially not when she’s in the middle of her tea and daily crossword.

She looks up when she hears the footsteps approaching, and her mouth actually falls open at today’s adventurer.

Most of them are men, but sometimes they’re not, and this is one of those cases. The woman is probably the prettiest person Camden’s ever seen, with a bright smile stretching across her face. She walks over slowly, meeting Camden’s eyes and smiling even more and making Camden blush. She finally reaches the desk, and Camden realizes this woman doesn’t fit the type; normally they sprint over here in cargo pants and a sweaty white shirt and tell her she needs to help them right now, then march to the rare collections room and mess around in the files while she gives them the information they need. But this woman is standing in front of her politely, in a bright pink sweater, cool and confident as can be.

“Can I help you with something?”

“I heard you have a 16th-century map of St. Thomas’s Church. Would you be able to show me?”

“Of course.”

“I’m Angeria, by the way,” the woman says as Camden leads her up the stairs to the rare collection room.

“Camden.” She turns her key, and the awestruck gasp Angeria gives when she sees the room makes her smile, makes her see the room like it's her first time in here, taking in the shelves with ancient books and hand-drawn maps, centuries of information waiting to be found. “I have a map from 1587 that should work.”

Angeria flushes, the color in her cheeks making her even prettier. “Sorry, what was that? Your voice is…distracting.”

Now Camden blushes, not only for the compliment but because she likes Angeria’s voice too, with an accent she doesn’t hear much and a soft richness to it. “Just that I have a map for you.”

“Oh. Thank you.��

Camden finds herself watching Angeria, her gaze going to a map of the world that was used by a famous pirate two centuries ago. “It’s almost scary, don’t you think?” Angeria asks softly. “How big the world is. How easy it is to get lost.”

They aren’t the words of a typical adventurer, who sees the world as theirs for the taking, and they make Camden’s heart tug. “I understand,” she says. She wants to say more, about how sometimes it makes her dizzy to think of all that’s out there, how it pushes her to seek safety curled under a quilt on the couch, but she’s known Angeria for all of five minutes, and the words won’t get past her throat.

Instead Camden slips on her protective gloves and goes through the files of maps. Nothing is allowed to leave the room, but there’s a custom tracing table for times like these, and Camden has become an expert at following each line of the map, no matter how thin or faded. She takes extra care with this one, because she doesn’t want Angeria to feel lost even for a second.

Angeria watches her in awe. “You’re amazing. My hand would shake the whole table,” she says, her warm voice rolling over Camden like a wave and making her cheeks hot again.

“Thank you.” She lifts up the traced map and hands it to Angeria, then fidgets with her hair while Angeria looks it over, wondering if she should say something else. This is how it goes; she gives them what they need and they go on their way, to find treasure if they’re lucky or a dead end or another clue if they’re not. If it’s the latter, she’ll see them again when they need more help. Otherwise, she won’t see them again.

“No, thank you. And wish me luck. This is my first real treasure hunt, I guess,” Angeria says, still cheerful even as she looks at the map with uncertainty.

“Good luck.” Camden thinks of Angeria’s smile and as much as she wants her to succeed, part of her hopes she might be unlucky this first round.

But she isn’t falling for Angeria. Not at all. She fell once, three years ago now, and she’s never doing it again.

—

It’s two days later when Camden looks up from her desk to meet Angeria’s kind eyes, and her heart leaps even though it shouldn’t. “Do you need more help with the map?” she asks.

“Oh, no. I found what I was looking for.” Angeria shrugs. “I thought it would be harder.”

Camden can’t help but laugh.

“What?”

“Nothing, I’m just impressed.” She isn’t really surprised, though. Angeria exudes a cool confidence, like she’d be able to tackle anything she set her mind to.

“Well, your map definitely helped.”

“I’m glad. Is there anything else you need?”

“Yes, actually.” Angeria digs in her pocket for a sheet of paper. “Do you have a map of the Wilson sculpture garden?”

Camden nods. “I’ll do a copy for you. You can wait here if you want.”

“I’ll come with you. I like to watch you do it.”

“You make me sound like an artist.”

“Well, maybe you are one.”

Camden blushes and sets off with Angeria at her side, a presence she’s happy for. Most people wait around while she finds them stuff, then huff and ask what took so long. But Angeria is coming along to spend time with her—not that Camden is thinking of that. Angeria watches her trace the map with the same awe as last time, and even if she’s done this several times, it makes her feel special somehow.

“See?” Angeria says, running her finger over the lines in delicate awe. “An artist.”

And Camden knows she’s in trouble, because everything sounds like truth when Angeria says it.

—

Angeria is back early the next morning, looking stressed for the first time. She chews her lip and looks to Camden hopefully, and Camden would do anything to take her stress away. “Can you help me?”

“Of course. What is it?”

“I’m looking for a ruby that’s supposed to be at the heart of the sculpture garden. So I tried the direct middle of the place, and nothing. You wouldn’t happen to have any ideas, would you?”

Camden twirls her hair as she thinks. There should be an article about the garden in the archives. She motions for Angeria to follow her and digs through folders before she finds an article on Wilson and the opening of the garden, her eyes scanning for clues. And she finds one.

“His wife,” Camden says. “She was the love of his life, and she died before the garden was completed. He made a sculpture of her—that’s the heart of the garden.”

“You’re a genius!” Angeria says, quickly covering her mouth after. “Oops, that was loud, wasn’t it?”

“Last week a man carried a dead bird in here. It’s fine.”

Angeria laughs even louder than she yelled, but Camden doesn’t care. Especially not when Angeria throws her arms around her. “Thank you.”

It’s been so long since anyone’s hugged her, and Camden hesitantly leans into it before fully giving in, resting her hands on Angeria’s back. She’s so warm against Camden, warm and solid and comforting. It’s the best hug she’s ever had, and she only pulls away after it’s been too long.

“Pretty romantic, don’t you think?” Angeria asks. “To love someone that much you made a sculpture of them and called it the heart of the place.” She sounds wistful, almost, like she’s longing for someone who would love her that way.

“Yeah,” Camden breathes. “I’ve been helping people find treasure for a while. It isn’t—it isn’t always gold, you know?” She looks down at her feet, cursing herself for saying something like that. It’s stupid, and Angeria probably doesn’t agree, or maybe she does agree but thinks it’s weird that Camden would bring it up—

“I know.” Camden looks up, and there’s an intensity and understanding in Angeria’s eyes that makes her whole body burn. “Well, thanks again. For the map and your help.”

I’d draw a thousand maps for you, Camden thinks. And you would be the heart of them all.

—

It’s been almost a week since she’s seen Angeria—not that she’s counting—and as Camden closes up the library, she just hopes tomorrow will bring her. Things have been extra lonely without her, and though that wouldn’t have bothered Camden before, it does now. She misses hearing Angeria laugh at every ridiculous thing she says, misses Angeria’s sometimes-clumsy footsteps behind her as she hunts down a book, misses Angeria’s beautiful smile as she finishes a map or looks up phrases in Latin for her. Tomorrow, she tells herself. Tomorrow.

Or maybe tonight, as Camden opens the door to leave, only to have Angeria stumble into it.

“Angeria, what are you—“

“Was in a cave…there was a trap…I need your help.” She pants, and Camden sees the hand pressed against her side, sees the blood spreading underneath it.

Her heart aches with worry over Angeria being hurt, and fear joins the worry, because what if she can’t help? “I–I’m a librarian, not a doctor!”

“I didn’t know where else to go. Cam, please,” Angeria says, her eyes wide, and Camden quickly ushers her inside.

Five minutes later they’re in Camden’s office, with Angeria propped in a chair and Camden staring at a diagram of stitches in a medical textbook.

“You know,” Angeria says lightly, “books are great and all, but I don’t think that book can stitch me up itself.” She’s strangely calm, and that makes one of them.

“I’m trying to figure out how to do this.” She’s taught herself how to do most things out of a book, but she knows Angeria is right; she can stare at the diagram all she wants, but at some point she’s actually going to have to do it.

“Have you ever sewn a hole in a shirt?”

“Yes, but shirts don’t bleed.”

“It’s the same idea,” Angeria says. “You can do it, I know you can.”

It’s this that finally pulls Camden away from the textbook; hearing Angeria’s gentle confidence in her and knowing that she can’t let someone she cares for suffer anymore. She nods to herself and grabs a needle and thread.

Angeria has wiped up the blood and disinfected the wound for her, and the cut isn’t bleeding as much. To help Angeria, she’ll do it. She’d do anything.

“This will probably hurt,” Camden says. She gave Angeria some painkillers from her purse, but they probably haven’t kicked in yet. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’ll be fine.”

Camden breathes in and out as she stitches the cut, trying to be as gentle as possible. One of her skills as a librarian is organizing and cataloging, and that’s what she does now, organizing all her thoughts—fear over Angeria being okay, the desire to help her, the fact that Angeria trusts her enough to come to her when she’s in trouble, the warmth of Angeria’s skin beneath her fingers—and cataloging them away in her mind, into a box labeled Things She Shouldn’t Feel. A box labeled Angeria.

“You’re doing great,” Angeria says. “Trust me, I know a lot about sewing. I make costumes for the theatre here.” Her voice is soothing, and Camden latches on to it like a lifeline.

“You do?”

“Yeah. Design and sew them myself. I love doing them in bright colors.” She smiles, and Camden does too, her heart soft at the idea of Angeria picking out fabrics or carefully sewing the hem of a dress, her eyes narrowed the way they are when she concentrates.

But if she loves her job, why the adventure stuff? Camden knew it didn’t make sense, and she figures it’s okay to ask. “Then…if you don’t mind me asking, why do you do the treasure thing?”

Angeria sighs. “My friend got into some money trouble and started working for this collector. She wanted out, but he wouldn’t let her until the debts were paid off, so I agreed to help him in her place. I’m good at most things, so I figured treasure hunting wouldn't be much different.”

“Very humble, I see.” Camden grins, but really she’s in awe over Angeria’s kindness, how she was willing to get herself into all this for a friend.

Angeria smiles too. “It’s the truth. I’ve done a lot of things—I actually cooked for a cafe before I started the costume job—and somehow I was good at them. I guess…I guess I’ve tried so many things because I’ve never really felt like I belonged anywhere, you know? I was always too much, or not enough, or just…different.”

Angeria fidgets with her belt as the words hang in the air. Somehow she seems smaller and more unsure of herself now than when she collapsed into the door covered in blood, and Camden resists the urge to wrap her in a hug.

“I know what you mean. But for what it’s worth, I think you’re exactly enough,” Camden says quietly, finishing the last stitch.

“And what about you?” Angeria asks.

“What about me?”

“You don’t talk about yourself a lot.”

Camden shrugs, busying herself with a bandage. “Nothing to say, really. I work here. That’s about it.” She’s not interesting, and no one has ever been interested in her before. Even when she thought someone cared, like Jane three years ago, it wasn’t enough. She wasn’t enough.

“I don’t think that’s true. You’re good at drawing, and you know so much stuff, and you must be good at making tea because the one you always drink smells amazing. You’re even pretty good with stitches,” she finishes with a smile, holding the bandage in place so Camden can tape it easier.

“All done,” Camden says.

But Angeria’s still going, a far-off look in her eyes. “You’re always nice to people. You smell like vanilla and when you’re thinking real hard you do this cute thing with your hair…”

Camden frantically drops the hand that’s been twirling a lock of hair as Angeria speaks. She does it when she’s thinking, does it so often she’s usually not even aware of it. But she isn’t used to anyone noticing. Or anyone thinking it’s cute.

Angeria leans closer, tucking a strand of Camden’s hair behind her ear, and she forgets how to breathe. “What are you thinking about?”

Her brown eyes are warm and kind, so unlike Jane’s cold blue ones. God. Jane. She was a treasure hunter too, one who let nothing get in her way. She used to come here every day, and talk to Camden like she mattered, like she was special, not just the means to an end. Camden had given Jane herself, given her the world. And Jane took all those parts of Camden, and then left her for the world. After all, what was Camden compared to gold and jewels and riches? Absolutely nothing, and Jane left without a second thought. She can’t do that again, and even if her first thought at having Angeria so close was to kiss her, she won’t ever say it.

Camden clears her throat. “Nothing, just…maybe you should stay with me tonight, so I can keep an eye on you. I live close by.”

“Oh.” Camden can’t tell if Angeria is surprised or not, but she nods. “That’s probably a good idea. I wouldn’t want to explain this to my roommate anyway.” She grins ruefully. “First time with an actual booby trap. Didn’t think they’d be real.”

Camden just laughs, a steady arm around Angeria as they head into the night.

—

“This is the cutest house I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s nothing exciting.” It’s a tiny cottage, one that Camden has spent years turning into her retreat, planting flowers and carefully watering them until the backyard bloomed in a rainbow of color; adding book after book to her shelf in the living room; collecting delicate floral tea cups to brighten up her kitchen. She never thought it would be exciting to anyone else, but Angeria looks around with wide eyes, like she would live here herself.

“It is. It fits you.”

Angeria is noticing her again, and Camden can’t take it. “My bedroom is here. Come on.” She finds some pajamas for Angeria to wear, turning her back while she changes. They’re just about the same size, and the sight of Angeria in her pajamas, fitting her like they were meant to, just messes with Camden’s head. She can’t let herself feel this way for Angeria, because eventually she’s going to leave. She never wanted this treasure hunting career in the first place, so there’s no reason to think she would do it after the debts with that collector are paid. And if she’s done, there’s no reason why she would come see Camden anymore, even if she said she was cute. She tries to file that thought away, but the lid on the Angeria box won’t stay shut, and it makes her chest hurt. “I’ll be in the living room if you need anything,” she says, trying to snap out of it.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch in your own house,” Angeria protests. “We’ll both fit in the bed.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” It’s true, but it’s not the whole truth.

“You won’t. The cut is on my right side. You’ll be on my left side.”

It’s logical, and Camden is too tired to come up with excuses, and she really does want to sleep next to Angeria, even though part of her knows she shouldn’t, knows this is another step towards the lid on that box of feelings flying open.

Camden slips into the other side of the bed, making sure to keep a distance between them, so she doesn’t bump into Angeria.

“Good night, Camden.”

“Good night.”

It’s strange, having someone next to her. Having someone close enough to touch. She doesn’t know how she’ll be able to sleep, but Angeria’s breathing is steady and even, her presence a comfort, and Camden falls asleep in minutes.

—

The sun is streaming through the curtain when Camden blinks awake. It’s 9am—she never sleeps this late. And the bed is empty, sending her heart racing. What if something happened, or Angeria didn’t want to stay here to see her in the morning and just left? What if—

“Oh, you’re awake.”

Camden has to blink to process the scene in front of her: Angeria in the doorway of the bedroom, carrying a tray with two plates of pancakes. “You—you should still be in bed, you’re hurt,” she stammers.

Angeria sits down next to her and hands her a plate. “I’m fine, I was really careful. I wanted to make you breakfast, since you took care of me. I hope you don’t mind.”

Her heart skips a beat. No one has ever made her breakfast. No one has ever really done anything for her just because they wanted to. “Oh. No, of course, I don’t mind.” She takes her first bite of pancake and gasps. “Okay, I really don’t mind. These are amazing.”

“I told you I can cook,” Angeria says, her smile just a little smug and making Camden like her even more. It’s nice like this, safe and warm with Angeria next to her, and she can almost picture it happening again: breakfast in bed, the sun warming them, Camden working on a crossword with Angeria’s head resting on her shoulder, just the two of them with nothing to do. It’s just a dream. Nothing more.

Angeria takes a strawberry off the tray and offers it to Camden, and as their hands brush and Angeria’s eyes meet hers, Camden knows the lid on her box of feelings has come off once and for all.

—-

Four days pass, and even though Camden wishes she could see Angeria, she hopes it means that Angeria is resting. The time without Angeria is giving her too much time to think, even as she traces maps or helps kids find books for schoolwork. She knows in her heart she likes Angeria, maybe even loves her. It’s only been a month of helping her, talking to her, seeing her smile, but the feelings are there, broken through her careful layers of control. She needs to let it go, because even if Angeria called her cute, there’s no evidence that she likes her back. She doesn’t even know if Angeria will stick around after she finishes her treasure deal with the collector—she’s bounced around a lot, trying different things, and maybe she’ll leave here the second there’s no strings holding her back. Camden needs to end it now, so she doesn’t get hurt later.

Though all that flies out the window when she sees Angeria making her way toward the desk.

“I have one last thing to find,” Angeria says. “I was wondering if you’d like to come with me.”

“Oh,” Camden manages, not sure what to say.

“You don’t have to,” Angeria says quickly. “I just—you’re always helping people with this stuff, and I didn’t know if you’d like to do it yourself. Well, do it with me, really.”

It’s probably the one question she’s never been asked as a librarian. Camden helps people with their adventures; she’s never had her own. She gets wrapped up in it all, sure, when she’s looking at maps or helping decipher ancient languages, imagining herself running along a cracked stone floor and finding an artifact that’s actually a key to a secret room of gold. But in reality, she doesn’t like dangerous things. Doesn’t like situations that far beyond her control, where a wrong step or a collapsed tunnel in some cave could mean your end. But she’d be lying if she said she still doesn’t think about it from time to time.

And she would be with Angeria.

If this is Angeria’s last treasure hunt, and if she’s planning to leave after it, this is Camden’s last time to see her. Part of her doesn’t want to do it. She could say no and just let Angeria leave, get the pain over with. Angeria can’t hurt her if Camden hurts herself first. But another part of her wants this first adventure that will probably be her last adventure with Angeria.

“I’ll come with you.”

—

Angeria’s last item to find is a bag of diamonds supposedly hidden by the owner of some theatre before it was abandoned a hundred years ago. Cracks run up the theatre walls all the way to the roof, where the gold embellishments are chipped, and only half the marquee is still standing.

“Ready?” Angeria asks.

Camden tries to seem confident. “Ready.”

The door is hanging on by one hinge, and the inside isn’t much better, littered with chunks of stone. Everything is coated in inches of dust, making the whole world seem gray and fuzzy. The once-plush red velvet seats are torn and faded, and the stage has a large crack down the center.

Angeria reads a piece of paper that the collector gave her. “The person who hid the diamonds left a clue saying X marks the spot, but there aren’t any x’s.”

“What if it means X in Roman Numerals?” Camden asks, scanning the dusty seats.

Angeria brightens, but frowns again. “There aren’t any of those either.”

Camden twirls her hair. “X is ten, so maybe something with ten? The tenth seat in one of the rows?”

“J is the tenth letter of the alphabet,” Angeria says, and they race off to the seat. Camden barely has time to marvel at how well they worked together on the clue, their minds perfectly in sync, before Angeria checks underneath the chair and unearths cobwebs that make Camden shudder. Then she pats the top of the chair, releasing columns of dust that send them both into a sneezing fit.

Still no diamonds.

“Maybe”---Camden sniffles—”Maybe it’s somewhere we can see from this seat.”

Angeria eases herself onto the faded red velvet cushion. “If I stare straight ahead there’s a sign pointing to—” she cuts herself off with a rough laugh. “It’s always the basement.”

Camden’s heart skips a beat. An abandoned theatre was bad enough; now she’s going into the catacombs of an abandoned theatre.

“I can go by myself if you want,” Angeria says, like she’s reading her mind.

“I’m coming with you.”

—

Camden’s lighter—she came prepared with supplies—illuminates the carpet of dust as they descend the stone stairs, Angeria swiping away cobwebs with an old prop sword she found. The lighter is enough to guide their way without showing anything else, and Camden prefers it that way. She doesn’t need to know what’s lurking in the shadows. She feels itchy, like the dust and grime have settled on her skin, and she doesn’t understand how Angeria seems so steady, confidently moving forward. She’s in awe of it, but then she’s always in awe of Angeria.

The lighter catches a hint of a furry black mass, one Camden is sure brushes against her leg, and she throws herself at Angeria before she can stop it, clinging to her desperately.

“It’s all right.” Angeria rubs her back with her free hand. “I got you, I promise.”

Camden nods shakily as they continue. Angeria starts talking about her job making costumes, filling the darkness with her soothing voice that calms both their nerves, makes Camden stop thinking about how they could be stuck down here forever. She’s so busy listening that she barely notices when they reach a decrepit wooden door.

“We might as well try it,” Angeria says.

The door creaks open to what Camden assumes was a dressing room, since there’s rotted clothes on the floor and a dirty shattered mirror covers one wall. There are exactly ten stations in front of the mirror, and at the last one—

“The diamonds,” Angeria breathes, grabbing the dusty black bag from in front of the mirror. The diamonds inside glitter even in the dim glow of the lighter, and Camden shares a triumphant smile with Angeria.

“Now let’s get the hell out of here.”

—

The sun overhead feels like another world as she and Angeria sit down on a park bench, far from the theatre. The grass is soft and springy under Camden’s shoes, and the scent of flowers slowly brings her back to reality. A reality that she’s sure is about to crumble.

“So this is it, then?” Camden prompts, bracing herself as she prepares to make the cut. It’s the same thought she had earlier, one that lets her keep control. If she hurts herself first, she doesn’t have to get hurt by someone else. Someone she loves.

Angeria grins. “Yes. I’m done with dusty basements and caves.”

“No, I meant…you’re leaving since you’re done, aren’t you?”

“Why would I leave?”

Why would you stay?, Camden thinks. No one ever stays. Jane had run the second she heard of more treasure overseas. Camden worked night and day for a week straight helping her, forgoing sleep and reading ancient texts until her eyes burned, only to wake up alone the morning after finding the last bit of information Jane needed. She didn’t leave so much as a note.

“Why would I leave?” Angeria asks again.

Camden just shrugs. “Everyone always does.”

“I’m not everyone,” Angeria says, the firmest Camden’s ever heard her.

She’s right, of course. She’s not everyone, and no one could ever be her. No one has ever cared about Camden the way she does, and Camden has never cared about anyone this way either. And with Angeria’s words warming her heart, she’s starting to think the feeling is mutual.

“I need to tell you something,” Angeria says. She looks unsure again, wringing her hands in her lap. “I–I really like you. Just because I’m done with the treasure stuff doesn’t mean I don’t want to see you anymore. With you, I–I think I’ve found somewhere I belong. Why would I want to leave that?”

Camden’s heart is racing faster than in the catacombs. God, she’s been so stupid this whole time, assuming Angeria would leave without even asking her, assuming the worst because of her own fear. A fear she never needed to have. It’s like opening her eyes to the sun after the darkness in the catacombs, and she digs up her feelings and buries the fear once and for all. “I like you too,” she says, her voice breaking. “I shouldn’t have thought you would leave. I was just scared. But I won’t leave you either. I promise.”

Camden reaches out her hand, hesitantly taking Angeria’s. Their fingers intertwine, a perfect fit, and Camden holds on tight, trying to let Angeria know that she’ll always be a home to Angeria, always give her a place she belongs.

Angeria squeezes her hand and lifts it to her lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles that warms every part of Camden’s heart.

“I do have one more thing to find, actually,” Angeria says with a smile.

“What is it?”

“I’d like to take you to dinner. You wouldn’t happen to know a place, would you?”

Camden grins too. “I definitely do.” And she leans closer to Angeria, wrapping her in a hug as the sun shines brighter than gold.

#rpdr fanfiction #lady camden #angeria paris vanmicheals #angeria x camden #lesbian au #athena2 #tw mild blood/injury #concrit welcome

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

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THE DEAL

a/n: i literally wrote it in less than a day because i was inspired by a movie... of god, i have issues, but ANYWAYS! this one is a classic friends with benefits to lovers story with so much angst and a grandiose love confession at the end so buckle up, you are in for a treat!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEEEEASE give feedback if you enjoyed it!!

pairing: Harry X Reader

warnings: some, drinking, sexual content, a hell lot of it, angst and messy emotions, it’s a lot!!

word count: 11.8k

masterlist

If your life was some romantic comedy his would be the moment where the camera would zoom on you, your eyes blankly glued to the ceiling, makeup from last night smudged under them as a muscular, inked arm gets thrown across your chest, a snoozing man beside you as you have the internal little monologue.

“You’re wondering how I got into this situation, right? Completely naked with one of my best friends after a night spent with heavy drinking and ending up fucking in his apartment until we both fell asleep.”

Yeah, this is probably what the voiceover would say as the camera would slowly get farther from you, Harry’s sleeping figure coming into the frame while you’re still lying like a damn statue. This was not supposed to happen. Not that it was bad, because oh God! Harry really is as good as his ex-girlfriends gushed to you when you met them on night outs. You could never blame the women for falling for him, he has the charm, the personality, the humor and definitely the looks. If you weren’t you, you’d be one of those girls who would do anything to get his attention just for a split second. But you’re not.

Growing up with a single mother that was repeatedly fucked over by several men, you were taught to be the kind of independent woman who needs no man. Who only uses them for whatever reason and throws them away before they could even realize what’s happening. Feelings could never be involved in the equations, those are just not for you.

For a while you thought you weren’t even capable of feeling anything at all. But the way you cried when your hamster you got for your sixteenth birthday died changed your mind and you realized that you are just saving yourself the time of allowing people to make you develop feelings for them and then give them the chance to break your heart. You’ve seen that happen to your mother enough times to know that you don’t want to go through that. It’s not worth it and why would you risk it all when you could easily get what you need and move on to the next one?

Your friends always joked how you’re gonna be the single aunt to their children later who would take them to clubs and honestly? You’re just fine with that. Because you always thought that while your married friends will be busy with keeping their marriage together with whatever pathetic man they chose to marry, you’ll be living your best life without a worry on the world. That sounds pretty good for you.

There’s no need to make it prettier than what it is, you’ve had a lot of hookups the past years but you always tried to keep yourself in check, have some kind of rules to follow so you don’t hurt yourself or anyone else in the process. One of those were that under no circumstances would you ever sleep with a friend. No matter how badly you want to, no matter if they are begging, it can never happen.

But you broke that rule.

Turning your head to the side you look at Harry’s sleeping face squished into the pillow and you almost wince, because you know that when he wakes up, this gonna hurt like a bitch. He’s gonna freak out, or what’s worse, he’ll want to take it further, take you out on a date… be in a relationship with you! And you’ll have to break his heart because none of those will ever happen.

You and Harry went to high school together and he is one of the very few people you stayed in touch after graduation. Though you grew a little apart when you went to different universities, later on you both somehow ended up in New York and while you’re working as a graphic designer at a magazine, Harry is making good money from writing music for other artists. He’s been one of your closest friends these past years and while you’ve always found him attractive, you should have never let this happen, because it will mess everything up and you didn’t want to lose such a good friend.

Harry stirs in his sleep next to you, his hand squeezing your side before his eyes blink open, green irises finding your wide eyes. He stops for a moment, looking around, taking in his surroundings before his eyes fall closed again.

“Wow, must have been one wild night?” he mumbles into the pillow before a raspy chuckle falls from his lips.

Last night, the two of you and a couple of your mutual friends celebrated that Harry has gotten his biggest deal so far, having to write an entire album for an up-and-coming artist, so you all got pretty wasted, especially you and him. It’s a little blurry how the two of you ended up like this, but you do remember wildly making out hidden somewhere behind the bar before he asked if you wanted to come to his place. You stupid little thing, should have said no…

Groaning, Harry rolls to his back, his arm falling from you as he lies sprawled out next to you.

“The tequila shots. Shouldn’t have had them,” you rasp out, a smirk tugging on his lips at your words. “So, um… we both can agree this was a one time thing, right?”

Harry peeks at you, pushing himself up a bit so his head rests against the headboard. The sheets slide down a bit lower on his body, revealing his toned chest and his several tattoos. Memories of you kissing them eagerly last night flash into your mind and you can only hope you’re not blushing like a school girl.

“What if I don’t agree?” Harry cocks an eyebrow and you almost groan. You knew this was going to happen!

“Harry, I’m not going out with you. You know me, I don’t do that. It’s nice that you think that it could work between us, but I don’t do relationships and I’m not changing my rules, not even for you.”

Harry starts laughing, as if you just said the best joke of the century, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. You give him a puzzled look as you sit up, holding the sheets to your chest.

“Who talked about dating, Y/N?” he then asks. “You said last night was a one time thing. We fucked last night. What if that wasn’t the only time we did that?”

You start to put the pieces together, though you’d definitely be sharper if you already had your first coffee of the day.

“Are you trying to start a… friends with benefits thing with me?”

“I mean, you could call it whatever you want. I personally really enjoyed last night and judging from the way you were screaming my name, you did too.” Now you’re for sure blushing. “Why not do it again?”

“This is not a movie, H. I don’t think it’s manageable without ruining our friendship.”

“Have you ever tried something like this?” You shake your head no. “Then how could you know?”

“Have you tried it?”

“Never,” he chuckles. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. We are both cool, smart people. I think we can give it a try and whenever someone is feeling like they had enough, we’re just gonna stop.”

“What if you catch feelings?” you ask, raising eyebrows at him.

“Oh, but what if you fall for me?” he throws the question back with a cocky smirk and you smack his naked chest.

“You know I never do that!”

“I don’t think you can just decide that, but alright,” he chuckles, holding his hands up in defense. “I promise you I won’t catch feelings for you, Y/N. I swear on my…”

“Your mom’s and sister’s life!” you point at him. It’s clear that he thinks it’s silly, but you just keep staring at him until he gives in.

“I swear on my mum’s and my sister’s life that I will not catch feelings for you, Y/N.”

“Alright. And we can end it anytime?”

“Whenever you’ve had enough of me,” he smirks back, so pleased with himself that it’s clear he doesn’t think that could ever happen.

“If you keep that cocky look on your face it’s gonna be a very short deal, Styles,” you warn him, but he just laughs before he quickly pulls you back down to bed, getting on top of you, his hips sinking between your legs and you gasp when you feel that he is already semi-hard.

“Why don’t we get a head start on it then?” he offers, his lips crashing against yours before they travel down your body and soon enough he gives you something that’s a thousand times better than a coffee in the morning.

At first you’re clearly hesitant about it. Not sure if it was a good idea or you just ruined everything between you and Harry, but soon enough you realize that it wasn’t as bad of a decision as you thought it to be.

Harry is the one to call you for the first time, two days after the night you drunkenly hooked up. You’re just leaving the office when he hits you up, asking if you have plans for the night or you’re free to go over to his place. An hour later you find yourself pressed up against the wall of his apartment’s hallway, both of you eager to get each other out of your clothes. Now that it all happens without either of you being drunk, you actually have the chance to think about how good it is with him. He is just the perfect mixture of dominant and soft, knows when to be the boss and when he has to slow down a bit.

He makes you cum three times. Three mind-blowing times, and you also give him two orgasms. You try to make it equal and make it three, but he respectfully says no.

“If you touched my dick again I think I would start crying,” he chuckles jokingly, so you don’t even think about pushing it.

Instead, the two of you order Chinese, have dinner together, talking like you always used to before the deal and then you go home. There’s no awkwardness, no weird situations, not even when you leave. Harry leans closer and for a moment you think he is gonna be corny and kiss you goodbye, but then you feel him smack your ass before pushing you out the door, just like he always did before, joking about how he is gonna charge you rent if you stay any longer.

Nothing has changed, only that you now spend a good chunk of your time together naked, moaning each other’s name before you get back to your usual.

So after that you don’t shy away from reaching out to Harry as well. It becomes a regular thing, the two of you meeting up about two of three times a week. You fuck, hang out a bit and go your separate ways. Slowly, you start to forget about times when you stayed dressed up for more than ten minutes after meeting Harry.

You keep switching between your and his place, but sometimes meet somewhere in the middle. You’ve had sex in a restaurant bathroom, in his car in a parking garage and even in his cousin’s place in Brooklyn. That was a bit odd but still quite pleasing.

Tonight is going to be the first time you’re gonna be out with all your friends and Harry since the deal was made. No one knows about it and you intend to keep it that way.

Once you’re done at work you head home, texting Leticia, another friend from high school to meet you at your place to get ready together. She was Harry’s friend at first, what’s better, she openly hated you at first for some reason.

“You just had a punchable face at fifteen, you can’t blame me,” she used to tell you. It was actually Harry who made the two of you friends and you’ve been close ever since.

You get to your apartment almost at the same time. Leticia starts rambling about her asshole of a boss at the law firm where she works at as you open a bottle of wine to start the evening while you roam through your wardrobe for an outfit.

“Is Leo coming? I owe him a few bucks from last time,” Leticia wonders, digging into your dresser for a pair of tights she can borrow to pair with her leather skirt.

“I think he is, but he is going to be late. He is coming from Staten Island from his dad’s,” you muse, checking yourself out in the red dress you just tried on, not quite pleased with the look, so you quickly work down the zipper and look for something else.

“Um, whose is this?”

Turning around you see that Leticia is holding up a shirt Harry left at yours a few days ago. She is clearly confused about the men’s clothing between your stuff, because you are not one to steal them from the men you sleep with since you don’t really want anything from them to remind you of them.

“Oh, um, that’s… That’s Harry’s. He left it here a few days ago,” you shrug, not making a big deal out of it, but Leticia is nosier than that.

“And why is Harry leaving his clothes around your place?”

“Is that a crime?” you snort, trying to play it cool.

“No, but in what kind of situation did this shirt come off of Harry and end up in your dresser?”

You can’t think of a good answer that would stop her from interrogating you, and the way you’ve just gotten silent is telling her more than words could. She drops the shirt, eyes widening at you and it’s clear that she put two and two together.

“Oh my God! You’re sleeping with Harry!”

“No! I’m… I just—We…”

“You two are totally fucking! What the fuck!” she gasps in complete shock as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Let me explain it, alright? W-We hooked up on the night when we went out to celebrate his big album deal.”

“When I couldn’t go, right?”

“Yeah. So we were both very drunk and it just happened. And I really thought it would ruin everything but we somehow ended up making a deal.”

“Jesus, you guys are acting out the Friends With Benefits movie? Who are you, Mila fucking Kunis?”

“It’s not like that!” you defend yourself quickly, but then you realize that it’s just like that so far. “Well, it kind of is, but the ending won’t be like that.”

“Do you really think you can just do it with absolutely no strings?” Leticia sighs, her hands coming to her hips as she stares back at you.

“It’s been going great, so I really think it’s doable. And if any of us decides they had enough, we’ll just call it quits.”

“Yeah, because it’s that easy,” she rolls her eyes. “One of you will catch feelings and someone is gonna end up crying, Y/N.”

“No, that’s not gonna happen,” you shake your head stubbornly. “He promised it won’t happen.”

“Feelings don’t give a shit about promises! I hope you really know what you’re doing, because I don’t want to have to choose between the two of you,” she grumbles before throwing Harry’s shirt back into the drawer, grabbing the tights she’s been looking for.

Leticia doesn’t hold a grudge for the news she just found out, but she surely has gotten you thinking. Is it really gonna end bad? Why can’t there be a scenario where it goes perfectly fine and no one gets hurt? Harry promised it’s gonna be alright and he has been proven right so far, so why are you having second guesses now?

Arriving at the bar the majority of your friend group is already there, including Harry. You sit across him in the small booth, just exchanging a quick smile before the first round arrives and the evening starts. You allow yourself to take a better look at him while he listens to Mitch’s story and you can’t say that you don’t find him hot. He is wearing a vintage, floral printed shirt, the first few buttons left undone, so you have a nice view of his chest and his necklace you’ve felt under your lips so many times before when you were kissing down his body. He keeps twisting and playing with his several rings and it makes you stare at his hands for a tad bit longer than you intended to. God, he looks so damn good, you really just want to fuck him here and now.

You keep changing who goes up to the bar to order and the third round is yours, so sliding out of the booth you go to the bar and wait for your turn. A young, handsome guy is making the drinks and you clearly catch his eyes.

“And what can I get for you, beautiful?” he smirks at you when it’s finally your turn.

“Two vodka sodas, a martini and three vodka cranberries,” you smile back at him with a hint of flirting in your tone.

It’s kind of second nature to you, a few charming smiles and winks have gotten a lot of free things for you in your life and you never miss a chance to use your advances.

“All that for one pretty girl?” he teases you.

“I would be all over the floor if I drank all of it,” you chuckle, pulling your card out of your wallet, tapping it on the terminal as he finishes up the drinks, kindly putting them on a tray so you can easily bring them over to the booth.

“Don’t worry, I would surely pick you up then,” he winks at you, placing the last drink to the tray before you thank him and head back.

As you take your previous seat you notice that Harry is watching you intently.

“What?” you mouth him over the conversation at the table.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, turning his gaze away, grabbing his drink and focusing back on everyone else.

You go up to the bar two more times, once to ask for some chips and once for some napkins after a drink has gotten spilt onto the table. Every time you exchange a few words with the bartender and you have to admit, he has a great sense of humor paired with his looks.

Sometime later in the evening you decide to switch to water, so you go up to the bar a fourth time, the bartender coming to you right away at this point. As you wait for him to grab you your drink you feel a hand on your lower back. Turning to the side you see Harry standing next to you.

“Hey, want to come to my place after this?” he asks, leaning closer to your ear. His hot breath hits your exposed skin on your neck and a shudder runs down your spine, especially with his hand still on the small of your back.

“You want a rerun of your first time?” you smirk back at him, referring to the drinks you both have had, though it’s definitely not as wild as that night was.

“No, but this dress is making it hard not to want to rip it off,” he bluntly tells you as you glance down at yourself. At last you decided to wear a black bodycon dress that surely shows every dip and curve of your body and apparently Harry has been enjoying the show.

The bartender arrives with your water, his eyes falling on Harry and you see that he is a little taken aback by his presence.

“Hey man, can you get me another one as well? I’ll pay for both,” Harry nods at him and there’s something foreign in his tone that you can’t really put your finger on. The bartender just nods back and goes to grab another water.

“What if I wasn’t in the mood?” you tease him, continuing the discussion where you left it a moment ago.

“Oh, please!” he chuckles smugly. “I saw you eyeing me from across the table, Y/N. I know you are definitely in the mood.”

He is right. So damn right. You’ve been crossing your legs under the table for a while now, feeling your arousal growing every time you saw him run his tongue over his lips or whenever his finger played with the lip of his glass, imagining him doing the same with your body.

Biting into your bottom lip you need to take a deep breath, but when Harry sees your teeth digging into your lip, he loses his patience.

“Or we can just do it now,” he growls lowly, grabbing your hand before he starts pulling you towards the restrooms. You don’t even have the chance to protest, not that you want to.

He is quick to pull you into an empty restroom, locking the door behind the two of you before his lips attack yours, pushing you against the door with vigor and hunger. His hands are already bunching your dress up around your waist and you moan his name when your hips meet and you feel his hard length through his jeans.

“We have to be quick, so no one notices we disappeared,” he pants as he helps you up to the counter, your back hitting the cold mirror behind you.

“Then shut up and just fuck me,” you challenge him and it makes him absolutely feral.

You don’t have time to enjoy it the way you usually do in bed, but the excitement of the situation alone has gotten you so wet that you’re already dripping when he pushes your panties to the side with one hand while his other works on his own pants.

“Fuck, already so wet for me, huh?” he breathes out, his lips brushing against yours before they kiss you fully.

“Just like how you’re rock hard for me,” you grin against his lips, a hand wandering down to his cock as you pull it out of his boxers, stroking it a few times before he pulls a condom out of his back pocket and wraps himself up. “Were you counting on this quickie, Styles?” you ask when you realize that he just had a condom ready on him.

“I knew for sure I’m gonna fuck you tonight, but wasn��t sure how long I’m gonna last,” he grins, capturing your lips again before he pushes himself inside you with no warning, making you both gasp.

“Fuck! Harry!” you moan as he starts moving rapidly, definitely not taking his time like he usually does. He is pounding into you without mercy, panting against your lips as his ring clad fingers are digging into the flesh of your thighs.

“You like that? Like it when I fuck you somewhere public?” he growls, making your legs curl around his hips.

Your hands move up his chest and neck, fingers tangling into his curls and you give them a tug, earning an animalistic grunt from him as he starts going even harder and faster. You’re rapidly getting closer to your orgasm.

“You close?” he pants and you nod. “Come on, cum all over my cock, Y/N.”

A few more thrusts and your walls tighten around his dick, squeezing him as you gasp, riding your high, your head falling backwards, meeting with the mirror behind you. Harry follows you a few pushes later, moaning your name repeatedly before his movements come to a halt and you both take a moment to catch your breath.

When he pulls out you both just quietly clean yourselves up, fixing your clothes and hair so you don’t entirely scream sex with your appearances.

“My offer to come to mine after still stands,” he smirks, running a hand through his hair before you head out.

“Tempting, but I have some work to do in the morning, so no,” you turn him down, stepping out to the dark hallway that leads back to the bar. Harry grabs your hand and pulls you back, his lips smashing against yours, surprising you with his move. He kisses you deeply, sucking on your bottom lip hard before he pulls back.

“What was that for?” you ask out of breath.

“If you’re not coming over, I needed something to have a good night,” he shrugs with a smug smirk before you return to the bar.

You catch the bartender’s look as you finally get your waters and Harry pays for them. You catch the two men eyeing each other for a moment before you and Harry return to the table and you forget about the whole thing.

A Sunday afternoon you’re lounging at Harry’s. You jumped at each other’s bones when you arrived, but now you’re chilling on his couch, watching a series you both wanted to start so you decided to give it a go together. Your leg is lying across Harry’s lap, his hands absentmindedly kneading your thighs. It feels nice, like a massage, especially after how sore he made you earlier, stretching you out more than he usually does with a new pose you tried out.

Your phone chimes next to you and tearing your gaze away from the TV you check to see who just sent you a text. It was one of your coworkers, Anthony, he sent you a raging text about how he still has no idea what to wear to the company party that’s gonna be next Saturday and you realize that you totally forgot about it.

“Shit!” you curse under your breath.

“What?” Harry asks, pausing the show.

“I have this stupid work party next weekend and I totally forgot about it,” you growl, checking your calendar quickly if you can squeeze in a quick shopping spree before Saturday or you’ll have to find something in your closet.

“Aren’t those things nice with a lot of free food and drinks?” Harry wonders.

“Yeah, but I don’t like it, because all my colleagues bring their partners and I’m usually the only single one and they keep trying to set me up with someone,” you roll your eyes even at the thought of having to suffer through another one of those awkward conversations about your love life. Like it’s any of their concern!

“I can go with you if that helps,” he offers and you give him a look over your phone. “What? I’m sure if you brought someone they wouldn’t bug you.”

“But we are not together,” you remind him narrowing your eyes at him.

“They don’t have to know that. It’s a win-win, Y/N. Your colleagues would stop nagging you and I can eat and drink for free,” he smirks, clearly pleased with his little plan.

“I mean… you’re not wrong,” you sigh.

“See? Then it’s settled,” he pats your legs, smirking widely at you, but you’re still not entirely convinced. “Come on, Y/N. It’s gonna be fun!”

“This is so cliché, Harry!” you groan, your head falling back against the arm of the couch. “Pretending to be a couple? Straight out of a damn movie.”

Harry lifts your legs up so he can get out from under them, placing them back to the cushion before he climbs over to you, half of his body pressing onto yours as he squints his eyes at you.

“We can fuck in the bathroom, if you want,” he bluntly offers and you just start laughing at his dirty mind and technique of convincing you. “What? There’s literally no better offer out there. Free food, free drinks and free sex. Really good sex, if I may add,” he points out and you smack his chest lightly.

“Didn’t know you were thinking about charging me for the sex,” you joke.

“Might as well do, baby. Especially if it’s the best you can get,” he smugly huffs and you’d retort something funny, but you get caught up on the name.

“Baby? Since when are you calling me baby?”

“Since we are gonna be a couple next week. Gotta rehearse, baby,” he repeats the nickname and a foreign feeling bubbles in the pit of your stomach. Why is this one little word making you feel things you haven’t before? “And you know what else we can rehearse?” he continues, oblivious to your inner dialogue.

You don’t get to answer upon feeling his hand slide between your legs, fingers gently pressing onto your clothed clit and though you can’t stop a moan from slipping through your lips, you still grab his wrist and pull him away.

“My legs are too sore, I wouldn’t enjoy another round of you pounding into me,” you tell him and you can see the proud glimmer in his eyes that he was the one who got you into this state, though he luckily doesn’t comment on it.

“It doesn’t have to be pounding, then,” he smirks and leaning down he kisses you, taking his time as his hand frees itself from your grip and slides under your shorts and panties, fingers meeting your already throbbing bud.

He repositions himself so one of his thighs are between your legs, his lips never leaving yours as his fingers start drawing circles on your clit, sending pleasure down your body in waves.

“Fuck,” you breathe out against his lips when two of his fingers tease your entrance before pushing all the way inside, curling them between your clenching, wet walls.

“No, we are not fucking right now,” he smirks, never missing a chance to joke around and you want to retort to his comment, but words get caught in your throat when his thumb starts playing with your clit, fingers sliding in and out of you in a steady rhythm.

“So, are we on for Saturday? It’s gonna be fun, hm?”

The little shit is using his fingers to convince you and he has the audacity to ask you questions when you are about to see stars. Sometimes you really do hate how big of a smug fucker Harry is, but it’s hard to feel hatred for him when he is about to make you cum again.

“I-I don’t… Harry!” you gasp when he abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, right when you were so close. “I was about to fucking cum!” you growl, raging eyes meeting his green irises.

“I know,” he chuckles. “Say that you’re in and I’ll make you cum.”

“You motherfu—“

You don’t get to finish, his lips smashing against yours as his fingers return, moving faster than before, quickly pushing you towards the edge again.

“Say it. Say it, Y/N,” he mumbles against your lips as your chest is heaving and you start buckling your hips to meet his movements.

“Fuck… Okay! I’m in, just please make me cum!” you whine, hands gripping his shoulders like your life depends on it.

“Good girl,” he smirks and finishes you off without any more teasing.

You cry out his name, fingers digging into his muscles as you push your thighs together, trapping his hand between them while he keeps fingering you oh so perfectly. He makes sure you ride out the last waves of your orgasm before he pulls his fingers out and without batting an eye, he just licks them and fixes your panties and shorts before returning to his previous position with your legs across his lap, starting the show like nothing really happened.

Saturday morning you’re able to quickly get your nails done and Leticia comes with you, the two of you having brunch together afterwards. You go to a new place near the nail salon and as the waiter arrives with your orders, you notice that he slides a napkin onto the table with a small smile.

Grabbing it you see a phone number scribbled onto it. Normally, you send back a smile and tug the napkin into your purse, but this time you just leave it on the table and decide to ignore it.

“What the hell is up with you?” Leticia asks and glancing up at her you see her gesturing towards the napkin. “You don’t seem too thrilled about the approach which is very unlike you.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. I’m just… not interested,” you shrug, reaching for your fork.

“Not interested? The dude looks like the lovechild of Chris Hemsworth and Johnny Depp. He is exactly your type, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m just not seeking another hookup right now, that’s it.”

“Oh my God!” Leticia gasps and you give her a puzzled look.

“What?”

“You don’t want other men because of Harry!”

“What? That’s crazy,” you laugh, because she has clearly left her mind at the salon for even thinking that.

“Have you hooked up with anyone else than Harry since you’ve made your little deal?”

“I, uhh… Flirted with the bartender when we were out together.”

“Flirting doesn’t count, not even in relationships.”

“I don’t think many would agree with that, Tish,” you huff.

“Okay, but did you have any interest in fucking someone else?”

“I don’t get it why you are making a big deal out of it. Why would I seek anyone else if I’m perfectly pleased by him?”

“Honey, that’s like… how relationships work.”

“That’s not true,” you shake your head, though what would you know about relationships? Your first and only one was when you were seventeen and it lasted twenty-one pathetic days.

“Are you fucking with anyone else?” She asks, eyebrows raised at you as you shake your head no. “Are you fucking him?”

“Obviously,” you scoff.

“Do you spend time together that doesn’t include sex?”

You are almost quick to say no, but then you realize that would be a big ass lie. Every time he comes over to your place or you’re at his, it’s never just the sex. That’s always primary, but not everything you do. All the dinners, the movies and shows you’ve watched together, when you sit on your tiny balcony with a bottle of wine, talking and laughing like you always did before the deal, something always happens after the sex.

Your silence once again answers Leticia’s question. Reaching over the table she takes your hand in hers, giving it a soft squeeze.

“Girl, you are totally dating Harry.”

Leticia once again manages to put a flea in your ear about this whole Harry thing. You wish she didn’t say a thing, because now you can’t think of anything else than the fact that you really are doing all the things with Harry that people who are dating do.

You get so riled up that you almost cancel on the evening, but you’d hate to have to sit through the evening with your colleagues alone when you said you’d be bringing someone. That would make their usual nagging a hundred times worse. So instead, you suck it up and decide to ignore the issue just for the time being and you get ready.

You were able to find a new dress beforehand, the yellow dress is truly a sight to the sore eyes with the corset-like top and very subtle lace details here and there. It’s a little daring, but everyone goes all out for these parties usually and you definitely don’t want to be underdressed.

Harry texts you that he is in front of the building a little before seven, holding up the taxi he came with so you quickly grab everything you need and head out.

You’re the first one to see him through the glass entrance doors of your building, he is standing next to the car in a simple black suit and a soft yellow shirt underneath. It was actually your idea to match your outfits and he surely understood the assignment, especially seeing his also yellow nails.

Part of you is still hung up on what Leticia told you, but a bigger one is so excited to see him and also very into his look for the evening, that you push your doubts to the back of your mind and step out of the building with a shy smile on your lips as his eyes fall on you and you see his lips part.

“Wow! This dress is… wow!” he breathes out, his eyes raking your frame up and down shamelessly as you walk closer.

“Do you know any other words than wow?” you tease him, biting into your bottom lip.

“Yeah. How about: I would love to bend you over this taxi and take you here and now in this dress?”

Your face heats up immediately, slapping his arm, but then you leave your hand on his bicep and give it a squeeze as your answer: you’d definitely love that if it wasn’t kind of illegal to have sex out on a busy street.

The ignorance in you is so high that you don’t even mind how Harry keeps a hand on your thigh in the car, what’s more, you’re quite liking the warmth of his touch on you. His fingers are gently tapping against the music the driver is playing and he even hums a little along the songs.

“Hey, how is the album writing going?” you ask to break the silence a little.

“Great! They asked for fifteen songs until the end of August, so I have plenty of time, but I’m already done with six,” he beams, and you smile back at him proudly.

“That’s amazing. Can I hear any of them sometime?”

“I mean… if you buy the album?” he chuckles, making you roll your eyes at him. “I’ll see what I can do about that,” he then adds, giving your leg another squeeze before turning towards the window.

The party is just the same as it always is. A luxurious evening to celebrate the company’s success in the past six months, a way to give back to the employees and make them feel appreciated with all the free stuff. It’s nice, but you don’t feel like it’s necessary, people would be happier with a raise after all, than one night of free food and drinks.

Harry holds your hand as you walk in, the majority of the guests already present, music playing and there are several open buffet tables and bars in the gigantic ballroom that was decorated in a forest-like theme just for tonight.

“So you did not lie about bringing a date!” Anthony beams as soon as he sees you, his boyfriend, Pete following him right behind, both of them wearing matching burgundy suits.

“Have I lied to you about anything?” you chuckle awkwardly.

“Plenty of times,” he points out before turning towards Harry. “Hello handsome, I’m Anthony, Y/N’s favorite coworker, and this is my boyfriend, Pete.” They all shake hands, Harry smiling back at them warmly before his hand finds yours again, his fingers lacing together with yours in an instant.

“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you, I’m Harry.”

“Oh my! The accent!” Anthony gushes, clearly already a fan of Harry’s. “I was really afraid Y/N just said that she is bringing someone so we would get out of her hair this time.”

“I feel offended,” you give him a look, but he just shrugs it off, even though he is more right than he knows.

“Come on, let’s get you guys a drink, we are all sitting over there!”

Joining all your coworkers at the table, you get a head start on the food and drinks, not shying away from stacking everything you like onto your plate. Talking, mixing and mingling, Harry stays right next to you, charming everyone the two of you meet, earning you some approving looks from your colleagues that usually try to set you up with someone they know. This time, you’re left in peace the moment they see Harry with you, his hand always somewhere on you, holding your hand, the small of your back, your hips or waist or, your personal favorite, the back of your neck under your hair. His presence is uplifting already, but his tiny touches just warm you even more on the inside.

“I have to say, Y/N, you are absolutely glowing!” Dianne, one of the editors compliment you when the two of you are at the bar waiting for your drinks to be refilled. Harry stayed back at the table, deep in conversation with Pete about guitars, from what you could understand from their conversation.

“Oh, thank you!” you chuckle softly.

“This man is for sure treating you well. It’s so great to see you finally finding your person.”

She meant well with her comment, but it’s what brings everything you kept hidden in the back of your head out to the front. Tonight was supposed to be all pretending, making everyone believe something that’s not even there, but then why do you feel like it’s real? Like you fooled yourself with everyone else as well?

Your eyes fall back to Harry at the table, who is intently listening to something Pete is telling him and as if he had a sixth sense, his eyes snap at you, a smile stretching across his pretty face at an instant that makes you stomach dance again, heart beating oddly fast.

What is happening to you? This cannot be real, you can’t be having feelings, especially not for Harry. No, you do not allow that for yourself, emotions are off limits for you, because if you fall for someone that gives them the chance to leave you and break you and you’ve seen what it does to a woman. You got enough of the suffering through your mother and you vowed not to let it happen to you. And not even Harry Styles will change that. This is about sex and nothing else, no feelings are involved and that will not change. You won’t let it.

Excusing yourself from Dianne you quickly go back to the table, the refills long forgotten as you take your seat next to Harry. His hand instantly finds your leg as he looks at you with a sweet smile at first that turns into slight confusion.

“Thought you went for a refill?”

“Forget the drinks,” you shake your head, leaning closer to his ear. “You promised me bathroom sex.”

You feel the shift in him right away, how he bites into his bottom lip, his bright green irises darkening at your words, his hold on your leg tightening. His gaze flickers to your eyes and you want to devour him, you want him to take you here and there to prove you that this is all it’s about: sex.

Clearing his throat he mumbles a lame excuse as he pulls you from your chair, tugging you towards the restrooms, you try to keep up with his pace in your heels, but you also can’t wait for him to slam you against the door and fuck you quick and hard.

As soon as you’re locked away from the party in one of the bathrooms, your lips collide with his as he pushes you up against the door, a leg coming between your thighs and you can’t stop yourself from grinding on him.

“Fuck,” he rasps out, hands cupping your jaw as he angles your head just right while your hands are already traveling down his body to reach his pants, eager to get them undone as fast as possible.

However the sudden rush and desperation catches Harry’s eyes and he grabs your hands, stopping you mid-action.

“Hey, everything alright?” he asks, out of breath, concern filling his eyes.

“I just need you to fuck me,” you bluntly reply, but he doesn’t move.

“Okay, but why do you look so shaken up? Did something happen?”

“Harry, stop babying me! I said I’m fine, I just want you to fuck me!” you snap, losing your patience. Not sure if it’s with him or with yourself though.

“You’re obviously not fine! You are snapping at me for being decent and making sure you’re okay!” Harry steps away from you, the moment completely ruined as all physical contact ends with him, his eyes staring back at you in disbelief and you feel like a ticking bomb that’s about to explode.

“It’s not your concern if I’m okay or not. We have a deal, just go with that and leave the rest to me!”

“But above the deal we are friends too. I’m not gonna just… fuck you senseless when you’re obviously upset about something. You’re not in the right mindset.”

“Oh my God, stop being so fucking nice! Stop making these grand gestures and stop pretending like you give a fuck!” You raise your voice and it surely surprises him, but he is still more concerned than angry at your outburst.

“What do you mean pretending? I do care about you! Is that a fucking crime now?!”

“It is because it is for the wrong reasons!” you retort, feeling your throat closing up at the same time. Oh God, you hope you won’t start crying, that will make it even worse. “I think you are taking this pretending a little too far tonight. We are not a couple, this is not real, Harry,” you remind him.

He stares back at you for what feels like eternity and you wish you could read his mind, because you can’t read anything from his eyes, he just stands there like a statue and you feel panic crawling up your spine, slowly digging its claws into your flesh.

And then he finally breaks his silence.

“And would it be so bad if it was real?”

You can’t help a sob that emits from you, feeling like your guts are in a tight grip by his words. This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen.

“No, take that back!” you whine.

“I’m not taking it back! Y/N, what we’ve been doing these past weeks is exactly what a relationship is like and you didn’t seem to have a problem with it until a label was put on it. It doesn’t have to change anything!”

“But it is! And you know I don’t do this!”

“Don’t do what? Feelings? You don’t get to choose that!” he chuckles bitterly.

“I do! I fucking do! And I chose not to have them so… this is ending here, because you clearly caught feelings,” you pant in desperate need of getting out of the bathroom, but when you are about to open the door Harry’s hand snaps against it, keeping it closed. You rest your forehead against the cool surface of it, feeling Harry stand so close to you behind, his chest is touching your back.

“Don’t just walk away, we are in the middle of a conversation,” he growls, his voice filled with anger and warning.

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” you whisper, shaking your head as you turn around and face him, your back pressing against the door.

“But I do,” he simply replies. “Why do you think you can just run away from feeling anything for the rest of your life? Why would it be so bad if you fell for someone, huh? I know you do have feelings, I know you well, Y/N. You’re not some cold hearted jerk, you are a caring and loving person, so why won’t you let yourself be happy?”

“I am happy the way I am, have you thought about that?”

“No, you’re not. I’ve known you half my life, I know that you want to be cared for, you want to be loved and cherished, yet you push away everyone who wants to give you that.”

“Because it’s not that easy, Harry!” you snap at him. “It’s never just the lovey-dovey shit! Feelings come with hurt and pain and heartbreaks and I don’t need that! I can’t handle that!”

“It’s not always the case! But if you never put yourself out there, you’ll never find the happiness you’re seeking!”

“Well, for me, it doesn’t worth it! I don’t want to fall for someone, plan my future with them and open up to them completely only for them to fall out of love with me one day and decide they don’t want anything to do with me! I don’t want to give anyone the chance to hurt me like that, because I’ve seen what it does to a person! I witnessed it all, Harry! I will not be a victim to that!”

You’re full on shouting, tears rolling down your cheeks at this point. You are letting everything out that’s been bottled up deep inside of you all this time. Nothing can make you believe in the fairytale that will never become your reality and you rather save the time and pain than experiment with it.

What really hurts is that now you are losing your friend. Your best friend. Because the way Harry is looking at you makes it obvious that you’ll never be like before the deal. The hurt, the shock, the panic and the anger, it all mixes in his wide-eyed gaze and it’s like a knife into your chest.

“You promised me, Harry,” you sob, voice now barely more than just a whisper. “You swore you wouldn’t catch feelings but you lied!”

“I didn’t lie,” he simply answers clenching his jaw. “I said I wouldn’t catch feelings for you, but truth is… I already had them. I was already in love with you, have been for a while. And you know what? I think you love me too, but you’re just too afraid to admit it. I know it because I can feel it. The way you touch me, look at me, the way you talk to me, it’s written all over you, but you choose to ignore it.”

“You don’t know shit,” you shake your head vigorously. “You think you know it, but you don’t.”

“Stop denying it, Y/N! You can’t just switch it off! Loving is not as horrendous as you think it is! Yes, it comes with pain too, but the good is always there to make you forget about it. You have to give it… you have to give yourself a chance!”

“I don’t have to do anything, Harry,” you sass back, pushing him away so you have the chance to sneak out of the room before he could stop you. But he doesn’t let it end that easily. Running after you he catches your wrist before you could get out of the hallway, pulling you back.

“Don’t just fucking walk away, Y/N! We need to talk about this!”

“No, we don’t. And I’m done with this. Done with… you.”

It hurts. The words rolling off of your tongue hurt, but you choose to ignore it once again as you shake his hand off of yourself, marching back to your table to grab your bag and leave.

“What do you mean you’re done with me? Don’t do this, Y/N! Let’s just fucking talk!”

Harry keeps trying to stop you, but you’re determined to leave. Your coworkers notice the little scene, but you don’t pay it any attention as you head out of the room, knowing well they’ll talk shit about you behind your back as soon as you’re out of the building.

“Y/N for fuck’s sake just stop already!” Harry snaps, grabbing your arm once again when you’re outside, pulling you back, but you’ve had enough.

“No! I’m not stopping, you need to stop! Stop trying to make yourself believe this is anything more than just the deal we made! It’s not and it will never be, because you don’t get to have the privilege of hurting me, nobody gets to do that!”

“Who said I want to hurt you?! That’s the last thing I would want to do! It’s not as cruel as you imagine it, Y/N. I know that your mum had a terrible love life when you were younger, but that’s not the only side to love! There are so much good about it, so much to fight for and endure with the bad sides, you can’t just throw all of it out the window because you decided love is just not for you!”

“I can and I will. Watch me!” you bite back, tearing your arm out of his hold as you step to the side of the pavement and wave a taxi down.

“Please don’t get into that car, Y/N, let’s talk!”

“We talked enough,” you huff as the car stops in front of you and you hop inside, but just as you are about to close the door Harry once again stops you.

“Y/N, I love you. Please don’t do this!” he begs, so much sorrow and pain radiating from his face and for a moment you fall weak. You almost reach out to him, because part of you hates seeing him like this, especially knowing that it’s because of you. You just want him to be happy, but you know it’s not gonna be with you. You can never give him what he wants and needs. He’ll be better off without you.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out before pulling the door closed and the car drives away. Turning around you see him stand on the pavement, completely broken and shaken, his hands tangling into his hair as he angrily kicks at the dirt before the car melts into the traffic and he falls out of your sight.

You did it for your and Harry’s sake. It had to be done and you are both better off this way. At least that’s what you’ve been trying to convince you to believe.

But why does it hurt so badly then?

Harry tried you calling a million times after you left him at the party, he even came after you and banged on your door for thirty minutes straight, begging you to let him in and just talk, but you didn’t even answer him. Just waited until he left before you curled up in the shower and cried for about an hour.

The calls and texts kept coming in the next few days, but after a while he gave up. He got nothing but silence from your side and one last, long ass text that you didn’t even read because you knew you’d just start crying again, he finally gave up.

You were left alone with all the pain and emptiness and you realized how big part of your life Harry played before. Somehow, everything reminded you of him and you couldn’t do anything without wishing he was with you.

You truly believed that time will heal you, that soon you’ll realize that you made the right decision, but days turned into weeks and nothing changed, you just learned to live with the pain. You stopped going out with your friends and not just because you were afraid of seeing Harry, but because you genuinely couldn’t get yourself to leave the house. Your evenings consisted of binge eating all the ice-cream you could find in your freezer and watching reruns of your favorite shows, but nothing could really take your mind off of Harry.

Day after day you cancelled on Leticia as well until she had enough of your hermit life. She got fed up watching you sink into your pit of sorrow and decided to take things into her own hands and not let you run away from her.

A Friday evening you’re doing what you’ve been doing for weeks now, lying on your couch in sweatpants, scrolling through Netflix when there’s a knock on your door. You wait, hoping whoever it is will think you’re not home and go away, but another obnoxious knock rips through the apartment and you growl.

“I know you’re in there bitch, open the fucking door!” Leticia shouts from outside and you curse the day you became friends with her. Maybe you would have been better off as enemies.

“I’m busy!” you call out, but make your way to the front door anyway, opening it to reveal her.

“Yeah, I can see that. Busy with being a bag of trash,” she comments on your appearance, walking inside without an invitation.

“Jeez, you really did wake up today and chose violence,” you mutter under your breath as you shut the door closed.

Leticia is quick to turn the TV off and open up the windows as you just stand there, not sure what she is doing here.

“When did you clean this place? And when was the last time you took a shower?” she asks, her nose scrunching when she takes a better look at you.

“Okay, did you come here to offend me? Because I don’t need that so please leave.”

“No, I’m here to beat some sense into you.”

“Good luck with that,” you scoff, taking your spot on the couch once again. You reach for the remote with the intention of turning the TV back on, but Leticia stands in front of the screen, blocking the device completely as she stares down at you with a disapproving look, arms folded on her chest.

“You’re acting like a child, Y/N. Avoiding everyone and being mad at the whole world, are you an emo teenager now or what?”

“I’m not mad at the whole world!”

“Okay, then you’re mad at just Harry, still, it’s a mistake.”

“I’m not mad at only Harry either,” you admit truthfully.

“Who else then?”

“Myself?” you mumble, eyes falling closed as you slide lower down on the couch.

“That makes the two of us, but why are you mad at yourself?” she asks, finally moving from her spot in front of the TV as she sits next to you on the couch, crossing her legs as she waits for your answer.

“Because…” you start with a sigh, opening your eyes, but you avoid looking at her, instead, you stare at the wall across you. “Because I can’t fucking stop thinking about him,” you admit and your lips start trembling instantly, just like every time you think about him. “I miss him so fucking badly, Tish! I miss our conversations, I miss his stupid jokes, I miss him raiding my fucking fridge and I miss…”

You bite your tongue, not wanting to admit the next thoughts loudly. Because you miss kissing him, you miss holding him and be held by him. You miss sex too, but you miss the tiny things even more, the way his lips feel against yours, how he smiles against them when you whimper his name and you miss the awkward little things the most. When he accidentally bumps his head against yours or when say random shit right before he pushes into you just to make you laugh, or when he leans in for a kiss but misses it and ends up kissing your nose or just the corner of your mouth. You miss everything about him and you hate him for that, but you hate yourself even more. It feels like your own conscious has betrayed you.

Shutting your eyes closed you let the tears roll down your cheeks as Leticia scoots closer and wraps her arms around you, cooing soothingly at you.

“It’s alright. It’s totally normal, Y/N.”

“It is not! Not for me at least!” you protest pulling back, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hands.

“Stop with the bullshit already!” she growls in annoyance. “You are not some kind of ice queen who is incapable of loving! You love me, right?”

“Yeah, but that’s different,” you roll your eyes.

“Not really. You love your other friends as well, right?” You nod. “And you love your mom,” she adds and you nod again. “Would you do anything for these people?”

“Of course.”

“Do you like spending time with them? Do you care about them in all kinds of ways?”

“Yes,” you sigh, fumbling with the hem of your shirt.

“Do you feel the same way about Harry? Do you care about him, would you do anything for him to make him happy?”

“Yes,” you whisper truthfully.

“Then don’t complicate it. You love him, no big deal! And he surely loves you back, because he told you, right?” You nod. “Then pull your head out of your ass and just let yourself be happy for once.”

“Why are you coming with this too? I was happy on my own too!”

“No, you were getting by,” she points it out. “You were doing good, but you weren’t… a whole. Harry gave you everything you missed, but for some fucked up reason you think it’s the end of the world to depend on someone else partially when it comes to your happiness. Which can be a smart thing, it’s important to be your own person and be independent, but sometimes we need some help from others. From people that love us and we love them back. It’s not a crime, Y/N.”

“No, but it’s gonna end up with me being heartbroken.”

“You already are,” she ruthlessly replies, bringing your attention to what you’ve been trying to ignore all this time. “Hate to break it to you, but this is what that feels like. So why not just go with it, you already felt the pain, now you could go for the good parts as well.”

“I don’t know if I can do it, Tish,” you breathe out, resting your head against the back of the couch. “Even if I did it, I know I would mess it up and hurt him or maybe he’ll do something stupid and hurt me and I don’t think I can handle that.”

“So what? It’s part of the deal. And besides, you’re already hurting each other, so you better get your shit together,” she scoffs, poking your side playfully.

It’s part of the deal. Are you ready to make a new deal? One that you’ve been avoiding your whole life? Are you ready to cut yourself open for someone else and just hope for the best?

Probably not. And probably you’ll never be. But your tactics didn’t succeed so far, you still ended up in pain so why not give it a chance? Even if it’s gonna be the hardest thing you’ve ever done?

“Do you think he hates me now?” you ask quietly, peeking at her scared of her answer.

“He is a bit mad at you for shutting him out, but he could never hate you. That man loves you so much, it’s almost disgusting,” she admits, making you chuckle. “Just… be honest with him and talk to him. You need it. You both need it.”

Harry’s fingers strum against the chords again, trying to get the tune right, but he fails again, a frustrated growl leaving his lips as he lets his head fall forwards. He’s been trying to finish the song for hours, but it still hasn’t come together the way he imagined and his patience is running short.

It’s been hard for him to focus on writing, with you on his mind all the time, everything seems like a hard task. He has written plenty of songs since the night at the party, but he could never use them for his job. One, because they are so fucking sad and depressive and they asked for upbeat hits from him, and two, because they are all so personal, he could never give them to someone else. He can’t let anyone else sing the lines he wrote to you, but you’ll probably never hear them.

Giving up on finishing the song today, he puts the guitar aside and calls it a day. Walking into the kitchen he opens the fridge and realizes that it’s completely empty aside from a bottle of ketchup and a single banana. He’s been such a mess lately, he forgot to go grocery shopping yesterday. Huffing to himself he grabs the banana and reaches for his phone to order something right when his doorbell rings. He is not expecting anyone, but Mitch has been popping in every few days to check in on him since everything that went down with you, so Harry is convinced it’s him again.

“Great timing, do you want Italian or Chinese?” he asks, walking up to the door, but as he swings it open he freezes when he sees you standing on the doormat. “Y/N…” he breathes out as if he was seeing a ghost.

“Hi! I-I hope I’m not bothering you o-or anything…” you ramble nervously.

“No! No, come on in!” He snaps out of his trance and steps aside, letting you walk inside. A feeling of nostalgia hits you right away as you think back at the last time you were here. Just a few days before the party, when everything was different.

“I’m sorry I came without asking, I just… I would say I was nearby, but that’s not true,” you chuckle anxiously as the two of you walk into the living room. You notice that his place is a little messier than usually, but it’s not nearly as bad as yours was before you did a deep cleaning yesterday after Leticia’s comments on it.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. What… What brought you here?”

“I, uhh… I’ve been thinking. A lot. And I have a few things I need to tell you.”

For a moment Harry’s stomach drops, because he thinks you came here to tell him off one more time for breaking your deal, for everything that happened at the party. He is already bracing himself to just let you lash out on him, but it never comes. And when you speak up again, he nearly faints.

“I love you.”

It’s a strong start, definitely a surprising one. Harry’s lips part and his eyes widen, his look almost comical, but you’re not laughing, not now. You have a lot to tell him and you can only hope he won’t throw you out after everything is said.

“I love you and I’m sorry it took me so long to stop ignoring it, but I promise you I’m done with that. And I’m sorry for everything I said to you that night, I was… mad and confused and I didn’t know how to deal with everything at once. I was delusional and ignorant and… a fool for thinking that I could just choose to never have feelings, especially for you,” you add with a tiny, nervous chuckle. “You were right. About everything. That I can’t live without ever putting myself out there and risking it. And I think deep down I knew that, but I was so afraid of getting hurt that I made myself believe I’m good on my own, but I’m not. Not entirely, to be precise. Because sometimes it is worth risking it and… and I realized that you are the person for me who is worth this risk.”

The tears are already blurring your vision, for the millionth time these past weeks, but it feels right now. Opening up to Harry and telling him all of this is hard, but with every spoken word you feel lighter and more relieved.

“I’m sorry if I made you think that I don’t love you, because I do. I really do. You are my best friend and these past weeks have been hell for me without you. I was so keen on avoiding a heart break that I ended up breaking my own heart,” you chuckle bitterly, the first tear running down your cheek.

Harry reaches out and wipes it away with his thumb and you involuntarily melt into his touch. You’ve been starved for it and now it feels like home. When you look up and your eyes meet his, you see that they are red too and it just makes you want to cry even more.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just thought that I was doing the right thing, but I was so far from that. So I’m really sorry and I understand if you don’t want to see me again for the way I acted. I was… a horrible friend and… an even worse girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah. Because you were right, we were more than just the deal and… if you choose not to throw me out after this, I would… I would love to give it a try with you. I want to be the girlfriend you deserve and though I’m sure I’ll mess it up a lot of times, I promise I’ll try my best, becau—“

He makes your rambling stop in the best way possible, lips smashing against yours as he cups your tear-soaked cheeks in his warm palms, pulling you close to him, your arms curling around his waist immediately.

Harry has kissed you several times before, but none of them compares to this. It’s messy and salty from both your tears, but you wouldn’t change a thing about it, the way his lips move against yours, tongues meeting, devouring each other, making up for the lost time and full of promises for the future. You hold onto his shirt at his back for dear life as he just keeps kissing you over and over again until you both run out of breath.

“So, does this mean you’re not throwing me out?” you joke, breaking the silence once you’ve pulled back.

“Fuck no,” he laughs, pecking your lips a few more times before his lips meet your forehead. “You are not leaving this place, ever. You’re trapped,” he adds to the joke and you break out in a relieved laughter.

“Wait, so I’m stuck with you now?” you whine playfully, but all you get is another kiss on the lips, hard and demanding.

“Yeah, forever, baby. You won’t get rid of me now, not after the speech you just gave me,” he smirks down at you, his arms coming to curl around your shoulders as he keeps you pressed against him tightly. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you reply, your heart soaring as you hear those words again from him, this time, not even trying to dodge them in any way. In fact, you just want to hear him say it every minute over and over again for the rest of your life. “And I’m happy to be stuck with you,” you add with a shy smile as his grin widens at your words.

“Yeah? So we have a new deal then?” he teases, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Absolutely.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles au #harry styles imagine

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sweettodo · 3 years

Text

we're your best friends.

jean kirstein x freader x eren jaeger.

includes : smut, threesome, swearing, innocent / naive y/n, taking virginity.

word count : 3,4k

a / n , thank you for 400 ( 450 as of 3 / 8 / 21 ) , i love you all <3 you're all so special to me and i’m grateful for you. i hope we can grow together as a big ole’ happy family !

"Do you guys ever stop?!" you bellow, your bedroom filled with the shouting amongst the two men in front of you, their rough voices which completely washed away any interjections you gave.

Sighing, you grab one of your notebooks from your desk, winding up your shoulder, and throwing it at Eren. The book slaps him in the face and he shouts, his hand rubbing his face.

"The fuck y/n!" He screeches, Jean, shutting up right after Eren, hair messy from tugging at it out of frustration. You wondered why a simple conversation about who would be the better gentleman; the better man. We had commenced in the formal meeting area- your room- hours ago, to study; hence the notebook used to bonk Eren's pitiful face, "you don't get it." He huffs.

"You two better stop acting childish before I kick you out." Walking between them and plopping down on your bed, pleased to see that the battle had now dwindled from your -very- empty threat. You couldn't kick them out even if you wanted to.

Everyone at school was very well acquainted with the fact that Jean and Eren both had a persistent problem of rivalry, they fought about everything; from who had the better penmanship, better wardrobes, better walk, to who was prettier.... yes, prettier.

Eren stubbornly sits on one corner of the bed, traversing his legs with his back pressed against the wall, Kerstein made himself relaxed in your desk chair, "as I was saying, before I was so impolitely interrupted-" you snort, glancing at the two men, "you both are gentleman, but it's more than just how you talk to a girl."

"Yeah don't be ridiculous, I'm good at more than you think y/n." Jean boasts, smirking and tauntingly glaring at Eren who returns the glare, hair seeping down his shoulders as he rolls his eyes at the cocky Kerstein.

"I'm a sex god, I can sex anyone up, anytime- anywhere." Jean lunging to his feet and stupidly rocking his hips side to side like the fuck-boy he knows he is, virtually wearing it like a badge. Eren and you snickered at him.

Jean grunts, finger in the air tauntingly, "alright! It's not that funny anymore! Quit laughing!" tears brimming your eyes, chest aching from laughing, the blonde now taking into account that you two were more laughing at him, rather than with him.

Defensively, he shouts, "Keep laughing, virgin." Jean grins, squatting back down in the chair dramatically.

"I can name plenty of girls who want to get with me." Eren retorts. Laying your back against the headboard, listening as Eren spews stories about the 'countless sexcapades' he has with girls every week and the 'countless' girls who plead to fuck him on the daily.

"So childish, especially for a couple of university students."

You're dismissed again, "Y/n, who do you think would be better in bed, be honest!" you evaluate the question as much as you could, not to mention how hard it was to even imagine.

Simply putting it, you were a prude.

They wait hastily for your reply, curious to what you had to say, the silence provoking them to shuffle in their seats.

"I think... hm, Jean." Eren groans out in defeat, Jean cackling and throwing his head back, Eren pouts and crosses his arms, huffing out.

"You know what, how the fuck would you know anyway, huh?" rolling your eyes, Jean who is taking his sweatshirt off and hanging it off your chair, heeding to Eren, who is still weeping, "Jean, that doesn't count, she's never gotten with either of us, to begin with, her judgment doesn't count." Declaring matter-of-factly, Jean rubs his chin with his thumb and index, looking into the distance like he was contemplating to speak.

You watched as Eren stands in annoyance, his arms still crossed, "I mean, we could show her, but-"

"-We should, then it'll be fair."

Left in utter shock, were they insinuating you do something so delusional and sinful with your two closest friends? wouldn't that ruin years of friendship? Have they no morals? And to think Eren would have a little more decency.

"No, no way, don't be ridiculous."

Jean sucks his teeth, leaning in his chair so his elbows sat on his knees, the energy in the room had drastically changed, they were now watching you, making your hands anxiously tremble, their eyes scanning yours, while you tried to look at anything but them, heart out of your chest and now in your throat, they sat so relaxed, so casual like the proposition of sex didn't even phase them.

"C'mon, I want you to tell us who's better, you're our best friend, you're the best one to determine who's best." Jean pouts, this was a very clear-detectable manipulation, and you were not inept.

"Are you trying to manipulate me, Kirstein?" he shakes his head, leisurely stretching back into the chair, "because if you are it won't work on me." Jean peeks over to Eren, looking to be affirmed.

Eren plays with the hem of his shirt, a smug look on his lips, looking down to attempt to hide it.

Both men have talked about getting you to become their little toy, countless times at dinner with all the other cadets to embarrass you- or during the summer when you wore shorts to practice with your gear, sparring with a tank top, they both imagined unholy things, things you would believe to be appalling. "How about- better kisser?" tilting your head, that wasn't so much worse.

"Yeah, we've nearly kissed before too," Jean interjects, he saw your eyebrows scrunch, looking mindless, eyes so naive, his head full of vile thoughts, ways he and Eren could corrupt you, tear you open, and leave you begging for more. But they clearly couldn't let you know what they talked about.

So innocent.

"Sharing drinks," nodding slowly, the boys internally prayed you would loosen up only just a little, just a foot in the door so they could kick the fucking door down and break you in- they both figured it was about time anyways; you were a college student and hadn't done anything?

But you had not even a clue, that dumb little head of yours, how could you not comprehend their tactics. This was their way to get your legs open? This was laughable to them; too easy.

Dragging your ass across the bed, not leaning on the wall anymore; you sat criss-cross in the middle of the mattress, center of their attention, "I guess you're right." Mind racing, Jean would never talk to you again if you had said no to at least kissing, and Eren would probably get upset with you, not eager in being your friend, most likely following in his friend's lead.

Jean rolls closer to the side of the bed in your chair, not even a foot away from you.

"I can go first, Eren?" Eren nods, he was beyond delighted, this was fucking crazy. Truth was, Eren, who was seldom nervous over this type of thing; yet he was envious that Jean could be so... persistent; wishing he could be the same. With Jean grabbing your chin, such a pretty face you had, especially when you were anxious.

Easy to mold, easy to manipulate you; to do whatever he wanted with a bat of his eyelashes and a polite smile.

And here he was- in the back of his head - telling himself that he needed to teach you not to be so susceptible from now on.

He squanders no time, capturing your lips with his own, moving in a swift and low action, you kiss him back. He was incredible, it was at the perfect pace, the residing taste of mint gum that filled your mouth.

No wonder the girls loved Jean so much.

His thumb caressing your cheek which sent little cringes of anxiety throughout your body- realizing you had to kiss Eren after this, this was going to make you so dirty, but how could you kiss Jean and leave your other friend out? How unreasonable that would be.

Eren's abrupt words make you jump, "alright horse face, stop hogging and share." Jean pulls back, lips light rosy pink, even a little swollen, he rolls backward in the chair, the other young man sits up in front of you while still comfortable on the bed.

Instead of Jean's approach, Eren tilts your head, kissing your jawline first, tensing up from the ticklish feeling, soft lips establishing morale towards your choice in agreeing to do what they asserted; it wasn't that terrible after all.

He kisses up to the corner of your mouth and then slowly kisses you on the lips, eyes fluttering closed, drunk off his smell, stomach doing backflips.

Gradually pulling back, he's smiling like a fool before scooching backward back to his spot.

"Who do you think was better?" Jean rushes, blushing and looking to your lap, thumbs playing with each other, subconsciously hoping they would do a little more. You didn't know who was better, they both were so good, too good.

"I don't know, you both are really good,"

Jean was going mad, you tasted so fucking good, and he didn't know how much longer he could contain himself, trying to remain relaxed.

Eren's dick twitching in his pants when he heard you finally say his name instead of Kerstein's, he was ecstatic...

Jean stands and scoffs, "alright I'll give him that, but I'm good at everything else. Eren s' a fucking virgin boy." biting your tongue, you felt guilty, Jean was really good, telling yourself 'maybe I should stop being so uptight, they would never actually hurt me.' Eren sees you ponder, looking into space while you stewed on your sentiments, Jean with no awareness as he rambles on and on about how experienced he is.

Gnawing on your bottom lip, anxious, you needed to make the first move- you needed to make this right.

Slowly, making sure they're both watching, you begin to unbutton your blouse, bottom-up.

"What are you doing?"

"You two wanted to show me who was better?"

Jean's eyes bug out of his head, smile growing across his face, Eren stands, embarrassed from your suggestion, they were nearly jumping for joy, "but I don't know ho-"

Jean jerked your shoulders, "relax," He whispers, out comes a shaky breath when his hands waste no time to finish unbuttoning your top. "You trust us, you wanna' feel good, right?"

The room was silent besides the pounding of your heart; could it have been any louder?

Blouse wide open for both of them to see your chest. Eren, who sat inches from you tugged at the fabric on your right shoulder, "so pretty- look at these Eren," Jean's large hands cupping your tits, sitting pretty in your bra, your throat grows increasingly dry, the feeling in between your legs tingling, though, you had no idea how to interpret it.

Eren stands back up, standing shoulder to shoulder with his friend, his hand caressing down your back and gripping at the flesh of your skin.

Looking at them as they stare at your chest, their hands all over you. "Do you know how to do anything at all?" Eren asks, shaking his head, he looks at Jean and pulls his hand back, "Jean and I are gonna ake care of you."

"Yeah, okay." Jean pushing you on your back, legs barely open, unbuttoned your pants, tugging them off hungrily. Both looking at you with lust-filled eyes, they had never seen you like this; so bare. Your legs are propped up so Jean and Eren can both stand before them. Their hands trailing up your jittery thighs.

"I'll get you ready, yeah? I don't want to hurt you." Responding with a simple nod, Jean is crouching down so his head is leveled to your clothed cunt, Eren sits back on the bed and slides his hand under your back; with one hand, he's unclasping your bra and peeling it off your body, his soft hands massaging your tits, nipples sensitive when his thumbs spend extra time on them.

Nerves doubling over when Jean's hands now pulling down your matching panties, head snapping up, legs shutting to deter them, Eren pushing you back down. "Calm down, you'll be fine." He reassures.

Eren feeling the soft skin, under his hands, rolling your nipple in between his fingers, Jean dragging his large hands in between your thighs, "have you ever fingered yourself y/n? Made yourself cum?" beyond embarrassed, the way they were taking their time on you, slowly feeling you up, you were almost becoming frustrated. Shaking your head, Jean clicks his tongue, "this might feel weird, but you trust us, right?" An audible gasp is shot out of your mouth when his middle finger is raking up between your folds.

Hissing out as he adds another finger, both of them running up and down your slick pussy, pressing down on a bundle of nerves, "feels- weird!" the more he played around with your sensitive clit, the more your leg twitched, the ticking feeling filling up your stomach, core flexing as he repeated his offense, the same sensitive rubs as his two fingers curled and fucked into you.

"Jean-” He was going so slow, making sure he didn't stretch you out too much, he needed to save that for later.

"Here, come taste."

Eren's grabbing Jean's hand, your tongue lolling out, his coated fingers dragging down your tongue, lips wrapping around his digits, tasting the juices from your cunt.

"Tastes good, right?" fingers still deep in your mouth, you're nodding like a fool, Jean smiling at the sight of the reaction bestowed on your face, the taste of your cum tainting your tastebuds; "of course she likes it, look at her, she wants more."

Eren nods in return, he leans down over you, soft hair falling on your chest as he leaves wet little kisses down your chest, peppering you with his lips down to your belly button.

Watching Jean, who is getting on the bed beside you, his knees next to your head, Eren jumping into action to take his best friends place, his sweats falling low just blow his v- line, he pushes them down, craning your neck to look up at Jean who his also pulling down his pants.

Your throat squeezes shut, lifting your head, "I don't you think that I-" Jean's hand grabbing your hair to silence you, jerking your neck up.

"Don't worry, I told you we'll help you."

"Jean, chill out a little." Eren mumbles, your head getting dropped back onto the bed, eyes fixated on Eren's wide torso, the tent in his boxers which made your mouth water, "I'll go slow, okay?" Palming his cock through his boxers, he holds your legs from under your knees, his boxers just under his cock, sliding his hand down and removes the little bit of coverage he had left. Your eyes widening, he spits in his hand, stroking his throbbing tip a few times with his thumb before adjusting forward and rubbing his raw cock up against your slicked pussy.

The feeling of Eren's thick tip squeezing inside of you makes you cry out in pain, the stinging pain of Eren taking his time to slide into you, fitting into you as much as he can.

Jean pinning your arms up above your head, tears spilling from your eyes, "h-hurts!" you whine, Jean beside you pumping his cock in his fist.

"So fuckin' tight, no wonder it hurts so bad." His hands pinning your legs open and up, he pulls out.

Without warning, he picks up speed, your body curling up from the pressure.

“I forgot what virgin pussy feels like, so tight-” he mumbled, his eyes rolling to the back of his head from the way he could feel his heartbeat in his cock, he needed this so bad.

The pressure soon becomes desirable, wanting to feel it everything he thrusts into you, your complaints soon turn to moans, looking at jean through your eyelashes while he's fixated on the way your boobs bounce while Eren dives deeper into you.

"Don't forget to help Jean out, remember?"

You're situating yourself up on your elbows, turning your body so your head is between Jean's thighs, he's pushing your hair back and holding it in a loose but sufficient grip, "let me guide you."

His thumb swipes down your bottom lip, opening your jaw, tongue sliding past your lips to wrap around his cock like it's instinct.

"Good, just like that," he groans, his hand on the back of your head guiding you further down the base of his cock, Eren fucking you slowly, savoring the feeling of your walls clench around him, sucking him in, he could stay like this forever.

Your neck uncomfortably stretched to pleasure Jean made it all the more painful when he started pushing down the back of your throat; harder to catch your breath, harder to swallow the saliva that was seeping up the back of your throat, trying not to cough around his length.

"Been waitin’ too long for this,” Eren grunts, the lewd noises of his hits snapping against yours on one end while your nose is barely brushing against Jean’s hair around his stomach.

Jean slowly pulls out of your throat, drool following, giving you the chance to speak, “Eren, h-hot!” you cried, your stomach twisting, pussy squelching around his wide cock, head dizzy as you begin to feel like your floating.

Jean sees your body shake from beside him, while he pumps his cock in his free hand, his other hand is kneading your tit in his hand. “Oi, I think she's gonna cum- c’mon it's gonna feel so good, you're so close, pretty girl.” Eren drilling into you with your legs pinned open, moaning and gasping for air as you feel your hole spasm, body tingling as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“C- I'm cumming!” your hand on Eren’s pec, pushing against him to ease the pressure of his cock buried fully inside of you, “f-fuck! Fuck, Eren!” his body sticky on top of yours, thighs uncomfortably stuck to his waist.

“God, can stay like this all day.” You panted like a dog, blinking the blurred vision out of your eyes from the blinding orgasm.

Jean’s getting off the bed, slapping your thigh to sign for Eren to get off of you, “I hope you can take it, pretty girl.” The brunette pulling up his boxers and sitting on the bed where Jean was just seated.

A panting mess, Jeans tearing you from your spot and pushing you on your hands and knees, Jean presses against the small of your back, pushing you into a deeper arch, abused pussy mere inches away from another cock.

Eren picks your head up by your hair, an evil smile growing on his face as he sees your face twist with pleasure, Jean pushing into your cunt, a mixture of his best friends’ cum already leaking out of your cunt, “gonna fill you some more, just stay still for me, okay?”

He holds your hips in place, the further his cock sunk into you, the more it hurt, the more he stretched you out, the more you were split open by the intimidating of him.

“If you keep squeezin’ me like that, ” he spits, unable to finish his sentence.

He thrusts into you from behind, held grounded in place as Jean ruts into your pussy mercilessly, Eren watching you cry and beg for stupid little nothings.

Cream covering his cock, feeling your walls tighten around him, he snakes his hand over your thigh, and to your clit, rubbing lose and light circles around the bud, your legs quivering, back jolting up from the overstimulation, “hm, what did I say about stating still?” ripping away from your clit, you whine and your back is pushed back down.

Jean mere inches away from climax, hips sputtering against your backside as you feel your juices drip down your thigh, sticking to his stomach.

Your head drops into the mattress.

“Pretty girl, we're far from done with you,” Eren’s purring into your ear, “dont give up now, we haven't gotten to the best part.”

The pad of Jean’s thumb is pressing against the rim of your tight, pretty virgin ass, “you can trust us, we haven't hurt you yet, have we?”

Nodding, this was only the beginning of a very- very long night. One of many, actually.

#i love jean and and eren pls #jean kirstein #jean kirstein smut #eren jeager smut #eren jaeger #eren yeager #jean x reader #eren x reader #eren x reader x jean #lemon #attack on titan eren yeager #attack on titan jean #aot #aot smut

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ateezmakemeweep · 3 years

Text

lights out.

neighbor!yunho

word count: 7k

angst, fluff

you had three requirements when searching for your first apartment: a good location, an all pets allowed policy and access to the rooftop.

it seemed a little unusual, that you’d really find the perfect place, all the other check marks and lovely amenities secured, and just say no because you weren’t able to escape to the roof.

but it was a place you always found solace in.

cold nights overlooking the city or warm, spring days in the sun - and when you first moved in a few months ago, overjoyed to check out your new daily view, you saw one of your other neighbors also had an affinity for the rooftop.

he was softly humming to himself as he looked out over the roof, his tall, broad figure covered in a yellow hoodie. just the profile of his face alone had your cheeks warming, faded light blue hair peeking out from under his hood.

a peaceful look covered his face, all the light in eyes and softness of his features making him look boyish and sweet.

and then as if he sensed your presence, or more like your fascinated stare of admiration, he looked to you and his lips pulled into a bright smile.

“hi.”

you bit down on your lip at the realization you got caught, a slight blush on your cheeks as you shot the handsome stranger a shy smile.

“hi,” you said softly, your eyes moving from him to the view behind - all very picturesque and pretty, tall skyscrapers and a clear, blue summer sky. “i’m sorry if i interrupted you.”

“not at all,” he hummed, his arms crossed carelessly over the edge.

an awkward silence hung in the air, unsure if you should stay grounded in your place or make a move closer to him; you chose the former, in case the handsome stranger was weirded out by your closeness - but he seemed to take it another way.

“are you scared?”

your eyebrows pulled together at the teasing smirk on his face, an interesting contrast to the slightest hint of concern in his eyes.

“of what?” you ask in confusion, looking from the view to his cute, questioning face. “you?”

a smile crosses his face that has your heart jumping in your chest, the sun shining down on him and proving that he really is just as perfect as he seems even from afar.

“i was thinking more the heights or the view but i guess the fact that you’re on the roof with a stranger could be scary too.”

an awkward chuckle leaves your mouth, not so much because of his comment but because you don’t know how you’ve managed to develop a crush on this man in less than 60 seconds.

you hesitantly make your way over, your eyes shining with nerves and slight amusement.

“actually, i’ll have you know, access to the rooftop was one of my three requirements for getting a place.”

“oh yeah?” he asks, a smile on his face as he turns his body toward you. “did you just move in?”

he’s pressed up against the concrete without a care in the world, eyes roaming your face and not once dipping toward your dress-covered body.

“i did,” you smile, “about an hour ago.”

“no shit,” he smiles, the profanity leaving his mouth a stark contrast to the sweet smile on his face. he makes his way over to you, his large form towering over you making you swallow nervously - he’s far too handsome and big, two factors proving to be a major weakness for you.

“i’m yunho, apartment 304.”

“y/n,” you smile, the way it lights up your face making yunho’s heart jump in his chest - you’re even prettier looking this happy and excited. “apartment 305.”

you should’ve known then that the handsome man on the rooftop was gonna turn out to be the kindest neighbor you’ve ever had.

he welcomed you into the building with open arms, invited you to a dinner party with his friends mingi, wooyoung and san who also lived on the same floor as you two.

he was always quiet and considerate of the people around him, making sure his tv and music was low by the time 9:00 came around - and even when it wasn’t, you couldn’t help but mind because it was always sweet, soothing tones of comedic chatter or soft pop music.

he always lended you extra butter or milk when you needed, the first time he saw you in your messy ponytail and pastel pink apron the time he realized he might have a little crush on you.

that the times he got excited seeing you down in the lobby or in the elevator were more than just his heart having random palpitations.

the knock on his door that day was soft in a distinct pattern of two, opening up his embarrassingly messy apartment to see you standing there with flour in your hair and a sheepish smile on your face.

“hi neighbor,” you smiled sweetly, your small hand with chipped nail polish waving to him. “do you have an extra egg you can spare?”

“depends,” he smiles, leaning his head against the doorframe cooly. “what are you making with it?”

“pumpkin bread,” you inform him cheerfully, just about the only festive, fall food you’re able to make apart from sweet potato soup.

“ooh that sounds good,” he smiles, his large hand ushering you inside. “come on in. excuse the mess.”

it was your first time stepping inside his apartment, messy and properly lived in but a nice, clean scent in the air - like laundry, home and men’s cologne.

he had a large sectional to fit his crazy group of friends he told you about once in the hallway, a large tv perched on the wall and a small dining room table with rickety folding chairs.

you could tell immediately that it was an apartment that was like a home rather than a house, the same type of warmth in it that shines through the man taller than his own refrigerator.

“i wish i could say my apartment isn’t always this messy but that’d be a lie,” he says, one egg in hand as he makes his way over to you. he looks down at you with a smile, his eyes going back to the cute little apron adoring your body.

“that’s okay, so is mine,” you say, far too guilty of skipping your sunday cleaning day for the past three weeks.

you can’t help the way your eyes trail over his soft brown ones, everything about him and his aura only making you develop a stronger crush on him. he just seemed like such a sweet and genuine person, always looking out for you and going out of his way to send you a smile.

no one has ever made you feel so welcomed in a new place before nor have you ever seen someone with such a sweet, soft smile and kind eyes.

“so just one egg?” he finally asks, breaking the silence and the way your eyes roam over each other intensely.

“i.. oh- yes! yes, thank you, just one,” you stutter out, taking the cold egg from his large hand. you never noticed how nice his hands were either, veiny and large with long fingers and clean nails.

there doesn’t seem to be anything about this man that isn’t perfect, apart from maybe his disaster of an apartment.

“i’ll be sure to bring you a piece of bread when i’m finished,” you say sweetly, the man smiling down at you teasingly causing your heart to jump.

“and if you burn down the complex?”

a mock gasp leaves your mouth as you hit him lightly, his soft chuckle ringing through the air as he watches you turn to leave his apartment.

“forget it then!” you squeal jokingly, knowing right when it’s done, you’ll be rushing over to make sure it’s still nice and warm for him.

his eyes linger on the bounce of your hair and your messily tied apron as you disappear into the hall, letting out a small sigh when he feels the remaining hints of butterflies in his stomach.

“are you ever gonna tell her?” his best friend mingi asked, the two of them going down to san’s for thanksgiving dinner a few weeks later. “you’ve known her for three months now. that’s a reasonable amount of time to have a crush, she wouldn’t be weirded out.”

“i know but we haven’t really like... talked talked, you know,” the tall boy explains, a bowl of mashed potatoes in hand. “we have... neighborly chats in the hallway or in the elevator, sometimes even on the roof if we’re both there, but we really don’t know each other that way.”

“okay and that’s what a date is for, the fuck?” his younger friend spats, a small chuckle leaving his mouth; he wishes it really were that easy for him.

“do you just wanna give her eggs and sugar for the rest of your life?”

the tall boy lets out a sigh as he looks at his friend, the dramatic, playful flair of his body causing him to bite back a smile.

“and it’s obvious she doesn’t have a boyfriend, you would’ve seen him coming and going by now,” mingi continues, their loud footsteps stomping further and further down the hall. “you really have nothing to lose.”

but he kind of has everything to lose.

he likes being the friendly neighbor you can get eggs from or see on the rooftop.

he likes being the person who’s made you comfortable here, helping as you adjust to a new, intimidating setting.

he likes being a friend to you, one that genuinely cares for you and doesn’t have any ulterior motives because he may or may not have feelings for you.

“i don’t know, maybe one day,” yunho says, knocking on san’s apartment door with his free hand. “but today is not that day. today is not the day i confess my tiny, small, minuscule crush to-”

the door opening causes his words to halt, potatoes nearly slipping from his grasp when he sees your smiling face and the light brown sweater dress clinging to your body.

“y/n,” he smiles, shocked but pleasantly surprised to see you here. “hi. i-i didn’t know you’d be here.”

san comes out from behind you less than a second later, throwing a friendly arm around your shoulder as he smiles at him connivingly - yunho knew he was gonna regret letting his little crush on you slip when he and san went out and got shit-faced at dinner together.

“i heard she made delicious pumpkin bread so she had to make the cut,” san said, bumping your arm teasingly when you turn to narrow your eyes at him.

“oh? you heard i made good pumpkin bread?” you question, remembering the events from a few weeks ago very differently. “or you demanded to be let into my house for a bite after you smelt it through the walls?”

“eh, tomato, tomahto,” he says quickly, ushering in mingi and yunho who are holding in their loud, contagious chuckles. “come in, we’re fucking starving waiting for your slow asses.”

you catch yunho’s soft gaze moving to you, smiling at him sweetly and heart fluttering rapidly when he smiles back.

“hi, neighbor. surprised to see you here.”

“yeah,” you chuckle out awkwardly, not wanting the man to think you’re intruding on him and his friends after your short time knowing them. “i hope it’s okay. once san smelt the bread and heard i wasn’t doing anything for the holidays, he kind of, basically, insisted that i-”

“oh, no, no, i’m... i’m happy you’re here,” he says, his words rushed out and awkward but full of sincerity. “i’m really happy to see you here.”

your heart jumps at the sentiment, a soft blush on your cheeks that you’re somehow ignorant to on his face as well. you bite down on your lip to control your smile, giving him a small nod before offering to take the potatoes from his hands.

when you turn to bring the bowl over to the dining room table, your back to the two giant boys watching your retreating form, you miss the way yunho’s blush becomes darker.

you miss mingi elbowing his friend obnoxiously and mimicking his cute, flustered “i- i’m really happy to see you,” resulting in yunho elbowing his friend back roughly.

he’s able (aka cuts off, both, wooyoung and san) to secure a seat next to you at dinner a few moments later.

he tries to ignore the way your elbows bump all night, the two of you awkwardly giggling and apologizing with soft smiles before finally allowing your arms to just... touch.

remain close to one another and find comfort in the way your skin is warm and soft on each other.

he tries to ignore the way your fingers graze as you wash the dishes and he dries them later that night, what feels like electric sparks shooting through your skin every time you touch.

“that was really good,” you tell yunho softly, your eyes observing the boys throwing left over remnants of food at each other or picking through the netflix movie selection. “you guys are good cooks.”

“like your bread wasn’t demolished in three minutes,” yunho huffs, pride and assurance in his tone that causes you to smile sheepishly; there’s a few beats of silence, embarrassed by the compliment, before he begins to speak again.

“our first thanksgiving together was also the first away from our families,” he shares quietly, ignoring the way his heart jumps as he takes a plate from you. “we didn’t know what the hell we were doing and completely fucked up the turkey.”

you let out a giggle as he recalls the disaster that was thanksgiving day two years ago, airing out the smokey apartment and waiting for their thanksgiving feat of chinese food.

“well you guys definitely redeemed yourself, it was all very good,” you compliment proudly, a pretty smile stretched across your face. “one of my best thanksgivings.”

“did your family not celebrate?” he asks absentmindedly, watching the way your face falls for a split second before masked by a small smile.

“not really,” is all you share, both of you quickly pulled away by wooyoung’s incessant demands to “hurry up so we can bust out the second desserts.”

you both try to ignore the slight tension in the air as you walk back to your apartments that night, arms bumping and soft giggles echoing through the walls.

it feels as if the night shouldn’t end yet, like you guys have been talking in this hallway for hours upon hours because neither of you wanna go inside and separate yet.

a couple of nosy onlookers can’t help but observe the scene, your back pressed against the wall as you talk animatedly about your journey for a pet.

“i wanted a cat but i also want a dog,” you tell him, the light in your eyes as you talk about the possibility of orange tabby cats and golden retrievers. “maybe i’ll get both one day.”

yunho’s smiling down at you with such a fond softness in his eyes, like he’s hanging onto each and every word you say no matter how small or casual.

“they’ll be dating by next,” san says, bumping his arm into mingi playfully.

“nah,” the taller boy says, knowing that while his friend definitely likes you, he’s slower and shyer when it comes to romantic feelings. “give it two months. and that’s if we’re lucky.”

you never considered yourself to be a lucky person, although luck seemed to be on your side when you found this apartment complex in the first place, so you can’t say you’ve been cursed with terrible luck.

but it’s certainly how you feeling right now, in the dead of a january snowstorm and one of the only apartments in the complex with absolutely no power.

“it could be a problem with your breaker in particular,” the maintenance man said over the phone, “someone could come look at it tomorrow.”

but no power meant no heat despite the negative temperatures outside, all of your freshly cooked food rotting spoiled and no means of communicating with your cell phone currently on 1%.

“tomorrow?” you squeak, understanding the horrific conditions outside are making their job difficult but also not wanting to freeze to death. “would it be possible if someone could come-”

your phone light shines on your face before it promptly fades to black and dies, the only source of illumination in your dark apartment now gone as well.

you let out a sigh as you resist the urge to scream, attempting to move around your apartment without impaling your body parts.

you’re able to light the three wick candle on your table with little to no problems, collecting all the blankets and fuzzy socks you can find and placing them on your couch.

you have a long, cold night ahead of you with nothing to do but an attempt at rereading some old books and forcing yourself to sleep.

but it’s then, right before you sit down, that you remember all of the food in your fridge.

you used every last bit of your ingredients for this week’s meal prep, knowing that if you it goes bad, you’re not gonna have that much around the house until next week’s trip to the grocery store.

you guess that’s on you, though, foolishly forgetting to not go to the food store before a massive winter storm.

you notice a faint stream of light coming from under your front door on your journey to the kitchen, lips pursing to the side before you open it up with a squeak.

you peek over at yunho’s door besides yours to see light coming from underneath his - so he didn’t lose power it seems, the lucky bastard.

it takes you just as long to convince yourself to go over and ask if you can store the food in his fridge as it does to pack it all up into two containers, not wanting to inconvenience yunho and his storage any further than you are by asking.

you reluctantly knock on his door with the two containers in hand, forgetting you already have on about three layers due to your freezing apartment.

a smile immediately lights up his face when he sees you standing outside his door, small and cute and bundled up like you’re ready to brave the snow storm outside.

“hi, y/n,” he smiles, noticing the two containers of food in your hand.

“hi, yunho i’m sorry for bothering you,” you begin apologetically, a slight grimace on your face as you prepare yourself to ask him for a favor.

“i lost power for the night and just meal prepped the rest of my food for the week yesterday so would you be able to keep this in your fridge for me?” you get out quickly, for some reason feeling panicked and grimy.

“someone’s gonna come fix it tomorrow but when i tried to ask someone to come tonight, my phone died and now i just don’t want this to go to waste because i stupidly forgot to-”

“hey, hey, relax,” yunho says calmingly, his voice all kinds of sweet and soft as he takes the food from your hands immediately. “of course, y/n, no problem.”

you smile at him gratefully, slightly embarrassed by the desperation in your tone.

“thank you, i promise i’ll be back tomorrow to pick it up. i just don’t want everything rotting overnight.”

the wind howling outside causes both your eyes to widen, a sinking suspicion coming over him after he hears the horribly stormy conditions outside.

“wait... does that mean you have no heat?”

“no, i found a lot of blankets and fuzzy socks though,” you chuckle out humorlessly, gesturing down to your ridiculously layered outfit and purple socks. “also found some candles so as long as my food is taken care of, i don’t think it’ll be that-”

“stay with me, are you crazy,” he says, his eyes looking at you in disbelief. “you can’t sit there in the dark and freezing cold all night!”

“it’s okay, yunho, really,” you quickly insist, about ready to take off and into your apartment because you know how overwhelmingly nice your neighbor is. “i just didn’t want my food for the week to go to-”

“y/n, please,” he begs, the soft, sympathetic look in his eyes tugging at your heart. “it’s too cold tonight. even with blankets, you’ll be freezing. and your phone died, that’s dangerous.”

a small, touched smile covers your face, heart warming at how kind and thoughtful this man is - how could you not have the biggest crush on him still?

you thought after a few weeks that you’d be over it but he just makes it harder and harder the more you get to know him.

“i don’t wanna intrude,” you weakly protest, the heat coming from his apartment far too tempting right now.

“you’re not, i’m inviting you,” he says, dragging you in by the sleeve of your sweater and leave no room for protest.

he places the food back in your hold before his large hand rests on the open front door, peeking his head into the hallway to see your door still open.

you watch as he walks into the hallway before quickly reappearing a few seconds later, the sound of your apartment door closing echoing through the hallway.

“don’t worry,” he hums, smiling at you as he walks back into his apartment and closes the door. “i blew out your candle.”

you let out a soft, amused giggle as you look at the boy, his sweet smile mirroring yours as he takes back the food and walks toward the fridge.

“got any 4s?”

“go fish.”

“got any 7s?”

“go fish.”

“got any aces?”

“go fish.”

“okay, one of us has to be lying!” you squeal from the other side of the coffee table, yunho throwing his head back in laughter at your competitive, feisty side.

he couldn’t help but smile at the way your eyes lit up when you saw the pack of cards on his table, leftover from poker night with the san, mingi and wooyoung that rid him of his last $50.

his smile only grew wider when you told him the one family tradition you had, at least before the age of ten, was to play go fish - especially on nights when the electricity was turned off, although you left that part out.

in all your experience of playing go fish, however, you’d never seen a game go on for this long.

“i’m not, i swear!”

“so you’re telling me the one four i need is in that deck?” you ask, not even realizing you outed yourself until he throws you a wide-eyed, playful look. there’s a silent stare-off, able to hear a pin drop in his apartment.

your eyes are roaming each other carefully before down to the deck in complete ignorance of who’s turn it is to go.

you let out a squeal when chaos erupts afterward, the two of you frantically grabbing at the cards. you make a mess over the table as everything goes flying off, a melodic giggle leaving your mouth nearly causing him to stop his futile attempts at grabbing the next card.

it should be considered unsportsmanlike, really, for you to unknowingly use your cute giggle and wide, happy eyes against him.

you just get even happier when you grab at the desired card, flipping it over and letting out a squeal when you’re lucky enough to flip over the last remaining four in the deck.

“i got it!” you squeal happily, yunho at a terrible loss as he sees all your matches lined up in front of you. he can’t even be sad about it though, accepting defeat as he throws down his cards.

“that was probably the longest game of go fish ever,” he says, stretching out his long arms; you guys had played several rounds but that one had to have lasted over forty five minutes.

probably because you two kept getting distracted, babbling about stories of friends and family or the real pet fish yunho won at a fair that lived for three and a half years.

“i know right,” you giggle, picking up the cards from the floor as you start to tidy up his house. you ignore his pleas to leave it alone and let him clean up instead, your head shaking as you continue to clean the mess you helped make.

you hand him the deck a card a few moments later, your fingers grazing as he takes them from his hand.

“thanks,” he smiles at you, his eyes roaming your slightly flushed face.

he’s never had you in his apartment for longer than ten minutes, never had you so close to him with your bright smile and cute giggle. it’s proving to be very trying for him already, trying to keep you entertained and himself distracted so he doesn’t do something, or say something, he regrets.

a silence hangs in the air as you look up at from your spot on the couch, about to make a comment about something, anything, when your stomach decides to do it for you in the form of a growl.

it’s embarrassing and makes an awkward giggle leave your mouth, a handsome smirk crossing his face as his eyebrow quirks up playfully.

“hungry?”

“just for a snack,” you mumble shyly, in disbelief you’re still hungry after your left over pizza. “i ate about four slices of pizza before.”

he lets out a low chuckle as he rises to his feet, sock-covered feet padding over to see kitchen where he holds up a big tub of chocolate chip cookie dough.

“wanna make cookies? i was prepared for the storm tonight, unlike some of us.”

you’re so excited at the prospect of making cookies that you ignore his snide, teasing comment, letting out a happy gasp as you rush over to him.

the two of you stand side-by-side as you prep the oven and cookies, rolling the cold dough between your hands. he makes the cookies a lot bigger than yours, an obvious difference in who made which ones on the baking sheet.

“they kind of look like us,” he remarks playfully, a loud giggle leaving your mouth as you poke his arm.

you two linger in the kitchen once the cookies are in the oven, sharing shy smiles and softly spoken words with the scent of chocolate and warmth in the air.

you thank him again for allowing you to stay in his warm house for the night, grateful for his ample food and running refrigerator.

“it’s kind of crazy since we’re literal neighbors,” you speak aloud, your hip leant against the cabinets. “i didn’t even know that could happen.”

“i know, right,” he chuckles, his smile and eyes getting softer as he looks down at you. “but i’m happy you decided to stay. i wouldn’t want you there alone in the dark and cold.”

and perhaps that’s the bare minimum. that someone wouldn’t want their neighbor, someone considered an acquaintance or even a friend, to be without heat or food in a snowstorm.

but to you, it’s something you’ve never had before.

you’d spent far too many nights cold and hungry where nobody cared if that was the case. it’s why you so often escaped to the rooftop, away from the loud voices and looming presences that made living there just a little too difficult.

it’s why you blurt out, “why?” not meaning to sound as brash and sudden as you do but it’s just something that gets to you sometimes. how kind and thoughtful and genuinely good jeong yunho is.

his eyebrows pull together but he’s still wearing a soft smile, his body inching just a little bit closer to you.

“what do you mean why?” he questions, cocking his head to the side like a confused puppy. “why didn’t i let you freeze to death?”

he tries to keep his tone light and teasing but feels like it falls flat when you give him a sad smile. he thinks it would’ve fooled anyone else, a person who basically hadn’t fallen in love with your smile in five months, but it doesn’t fool him.

he doesn’t know what or why something is bothering you, how your mood seemed to change after his reassurance, but he just wants to make sure, above all, that you’re okay and comfortable.

he doesn’t realize how close his body is to yours until you’re looking up at him, your head just meeting the top of his chest in a way that makes him wanna protect you even more.

his eyes roam every part of your face, wondering just how warm your skin is or if your hair is as soft as it looks.

this would probably be the perfect time to confess his feelings to you.

to tell you that he wanted you over tonight because he likes you. that he’s really, really come to like you over these past few months of getting to know you and he wants to know you more.

he wants to take you on a date and show you off to the world and maybe one day, if things go well, introduce you as his neighbor turned girlfriend.

he wants to make sure you’re never cold or alone in your apartment again, that you know you could always come to him for anything whether it be reassurance or an egg for pumpkin bread.

but instead, he gives a slightly less intense, cheesy version. for now.

“you’re my favorite neighbor,” he begins quietly, not quite the confession he wants to make right now but the one he settles on. there’s an aroma of cookies and heat around you as you stare up at him, eyes so wide and curious, he has to swallow down a second rushed out, bumbling confession.

“i didn’t want anything happening to you, especially when i’m right here to make sure you’re safe.”

safety is always what you craved. safety and security and warmth, even if just for a fleeting moment.

and your fleeting moment proved to be tonight.

the ding of the oven as you both got the cookies out silently, pulled from a moment you both felt forming but was quickly pulled away from. you ate the gooey chocolate with quiet hums of “mmms,” and “ahhs,” softly padding your way over to his couch when he suggested watching a movie.

he sat on one end and you sat on the other, before your bodies eventually inched closer and closer to share a light blue throw blanket in the middle of the movie.

“this is really nice,” you comment as you touched the fabric, observing the intricate stitching on the soft blanket.

“yeah? my mom made it for me actually,” he tells you, watching closely as you play with the blanket between your fingers. he wants to reach out and just hold your hand, feel your smaller one in his and see just how much they fit.

“when i first moved out, she was slightly distraught,” he chuckles out, remembering the dramatics that were his mom’s tears and demands to visit once a week. “i was the first one to move out and she didn’t know what to make of it. i swear she brought me over food every day for the first six months.”

your heart feels heavy as you hear him talk, not only because of the fond moments between parent and child but because of the love in his eyes as he talks about it.

how, even though he’s complaining about it, it’s obvious there’s a love and affection there that you, yourself, could never understand or reciprocate in your own life.

“that’s really sweet,” you comment, his gaze catching that sad smile once again.

it causes his heart to drop, a slight sinking feeling in his stomach as he tries to understand what made you that way. are you uncomfortable here with him, just a few inches away from each other under the shared blanket?

or is it something more, the topic of conversation regarding parents and living alone and all things deeper and more personal.

“me and my parents were never really closed,” you find yourself saying.

you don’t even mean to blurt out the words but it’s like one second it’s silent and then the next, it’s not.

the next you’re telling him about how you couldn’t wait to get out. how fighting and loneliness and the cold was a big part of your life growing up, how you got so used to it, it’s taken you a while to adjust to a normal life.

you’re still trying to adjust to a normal life, honestly.

“i don’t know why i just told you all of that,” you confess awkwardly, the blush on your cheeks causing his heart to soar in chest - he likes you, he really really likes you and now he won’t ever be able to let go of these feelings.

“but... i just wanna thank you,” you tell him, embarrassed that you somehow managed to make the conversation and vibe like this. “you and san and wooyoung and mingi made the adjustment a lot easier for me. but you, especially.”

“oh? with all my eggs and sugar?”

you let out a soft giggle as some of your anxiety eases, your eyes flicking toward his to see, despite his teasing, his eyes are 100% serious and locked on you.

“yes, definitely that,” you smile, biting down on your lip as you look back down on the blanket.

“but amongst other things too. it was funny meeting you on the rooftop, actually, because that’s always where i felt most comfortable. i’d always escape there but i’d be alone. it was nice... it’s been nice having someone, i guess.”

it feels like you could just about die from embarrassment, oversharing with the most handsome man you’ve developed a massive crush on about your tragic tales of a broken home and pretentious love for the roof.

but then he inches just a bit closer to you, placing his hand atop yours on his mother’s soft blanket, and just smiles at you. everything about him warm and soft and sweet, making you feel the safest and coziest you’ve ever felt in your life.

“if you’ll keep allowing me up there, i promise i’ll come every time,” he promises softly, the pounding in your chest and butterflies in your stomach overwhelming you to the severest degree.

your cheeks are burning and you’re positive he can feel the frantic beating in your chest but you try to keep it together. smile at him with a a breathy little giggle, tell him that while you love that he’s asking, you have no control over who does and doesn’t go on the roof.

he lets out a soft chuckle as he pinches your arm gently, the hand on your arm slowly falling down until your fingers are just grazing.

closer and closer and closer until they’re locked around one another, both of you eternally grateful for the lights being off because of the burning on your cheeks.

he wakes up around 2 a.m. to the bright tv blasting, a heavy ache in his bladder and your head on his shoulder.

it takes him a moment to remember where he is and what’s going on around him, the events of the night quickly swarming back when he peeks down at your sleeping face.

you look so peaceful and at ease in your sleep, eyelashes brushing against your cheeks and your lips pressed into a firm line.

he wanted to kiss you for half the night, every time you giggled or moved closer to him or asked him a question about the movie getting distracted by your lips or pink cheeks.

he felt an immense amount of happiness at the fact you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with him, that you were still here beside him and so comfortably sleeping against him.

told him things about your life and family that make him wanna be there for you even more now.

he doesn’t wanna move, he doesn’t think even the snowstorm crashing through his apartment could get him to tear himself away from you, but the embarrassment of pissing his pants right beside you on this couch outweighs everything.

his eyes roam your pretty, peaceful face on more time, moving a stray piece of hair with his long fingers and watching as you stir. press yourself further into his hand and let out the quietest of groans, he has to stop himself from proclaiming his undying love for you on the spot.

it only gets worse when he remembers he gave you his clothes to wear. noticing just before the movie ended, you were picking at your leggings that stuck to your skin uncomfortably.

“do you want a change of clothes?” he had asked, noticing your discomfort and only wanting a little bit to see how much his shirts engulfed you. “i have sweatpants and a clean t-shirt sitting in my dryer right now.”

you took up his offer for two reasons: your leggings were sticking to your ass and there was nothing you wanted more than to wear this man’s clothes. feel the soft material on your skin and have his manly, teakwood scent surround your very being.

but right now, as he stares down at you and attempts to keep you as comfortable as possible, it feels as if this might’ve been too much for him.

seeing you wrapped up in his clothes and on his couch so comfortably, moving your smaller body so you’re laid out on the cushions and resting your head on the pillow.

your eyes pop open, confused and in a daze, as you look around at the unfamiliar surroundings and sound of movement. you smile softly when you see yunho’s sleepy, pink face at face-level with you, his large body knelt down beside you on the couch.

“sorry for waking you,” he whispered into the dark, the tv and snow reflecting outside the only source of light. “i had to pee and wanted to make you comfortable.”

“it’s okay, thank you,” you mumble, stretching out your arms when you realize the sleeves are well past your hands. “forgot i changed into your clothes.”

“yeah,” he chuckles lightly, not being able to help the way his eyes roam over you.

even sleepy in the dark and the daze that you’re in, you’re able to see the slightest bit of hunger in his eyes. the way they trail over your body slowly and surely, taking in the way his shirt engulfs your figure and looks against your skin.

how if you stood up, he’d see the way the pants are baggy and making your smaller figure looking even more short and petite and cute.

it makes your stomach flip and swoop uncontrollably, your own eyes staring at his lips and picturing what they’d feel like on yours.

“i hope that’s okay. they’re a little big on you.”

you let out a soft, quiet giggle, adjusting your head on the pillow so you’re staring up at him even closer.

“it’s okay,” you assure, tongue peeking out to lick at your dry, hopefully not crusty lips. “i like it. i like them.”

it takes everything in him not to let out some sort of growl, throw all of his sweet and nice boy caution to the wind and confess to you how much he likes them too.

how much he likes seeing you in them and how much more (or less) he wants to see you in them.

but because the time isn’t right, because he knows for sure the time isn’t right and he wants something a lot more pure and honest with you, he doesn’t say anything.

he wishes you a goodnight after a nearly ten-minute bickering fest back and forth, yunho offering you his bed three times before you eventually flipped over and put your back to him.

he let out a deep chuckle as he ran his hand through your hair instinctively, smoothing out the parts that stuck up in your sleep, before bidding you one final goodnight.

it was around 10:00 when he woke to the smell of bacon, eggs and pumpkin bread. walking out of his bedroom to see you there still clad in his clothes and your hair in a messy bun.

you jumped when you noticed his presence perched against the doorframe, a wide smile on his face when you let out the softest but harshest of curses.

“what’s all this?”

“i made you breakfast. and your very own loaf of pumpkin bread.”

a soft smile covers his face when instead of looking over the food that looks and smells delicious, he looks at you. standing there smiley and sweet, in clothes that morph your body and make you smell like him.

he feels grateful for the extra bit of counter space he has when he places a hand on your waist, lifting you off your feet with ease and plopping you right down on the granite.

your eyes are wide and your heart is racing but you’re staring right at him, happiness and excitement swelling in your chest when you catch the look in his eyes - you thought you made it up last night in a dream-like daze but you’re still seeing it right now.

a certain kind of softness mixed with desire and fondness, the way his eyes take in every part of your face before finally landing on your lips. the very same way you dreamed of him last night, with his lips against yours and a sweet smile on his face.

“thank you, neighbor,” he mumbles with a smile, voice low and deep and making your stomach swoop dangerously. “did i mention you were my favorite?”

“you might’ve,” you respond breathlessly, all too aware of the way he’s leaning in closer and closer until you’re pushed flush against the cabinets.

his large body is covering yours but he doesn’t make any moves until you do, your bodies naturally drifting closer and closer together until, finally, you’re the one to do it.

press your lips against his so so hesitantly, scared and unfamiliar about making the first move but wanting him to know you wanted to kiss him - you needed to kiss him, or you would’ve gone crazy.

he smiles against your lips as he deepens the kiss, keeping you perched right on the counter as his hands rest on the sides of your legs. he doesn’t make any moves to touch you further or deepen the kiss, allowing it to be sweet and soft and as chaste as could be.

you both pull back and stare at each other with soft smiles and pink cheeks, silence lingering between the both of you before you let out soft chuckles at the same time.

“do you kiss all your neighbors?” you finally ask, fighting the smirk threatening to make it’s way on your face. “or just your favorite ones?”

“just one,” he says, tapping the tip of your nose gently and feeling his heart jump when you smile widely at him. “just you.”

it’s 2:00 on the snowy rooftop and bright summer sun when you hear the heavy metal door squeak open, turning around to see your handsome, smiley neighbor coming toward you with two mugs of hot chocolate in hand.

you take it from him with a soft “thank you,” pressing up on your toes to peck a sweet, soft kiss to his cheek.

it was only fitting that you had your first date where you two first met, shy smiles and nervous jitters turned soft pecks and loud giggles as you got to know the sweet, handsome neighbor you just knew you were gonna fall for.

tag list: @mochibabycakes @atinyarmyx1 @middle-of-a-wonshua-sandwich @baekhvuns @marksflvr @bunbaebae @markleeyeosang @inkigayeo @nlost21 @hyunjeansuniverse @cherryeonii

#happy bday mr yunho <3 #this was supposed to be 3k jdvkkvd #yunho #yunho fluff #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #yunho scenarios #yunho imagines

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hangovercurse · 3 years

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You work at the preschool next to Casie’s middle school. One day, you catch Colson’s eyes while working, and lucky for him you happen to know his daughter.

Request: “Hi!! Let me start out by saying that you are so so so talented!! I was wondering if you’d write something about colson falling for a preschool teacher? like he just sees her one day while he’s picking up casey from the middle school and he’s all soft seeing her interact with the kids and he makes up excuses to keep coming to see you!?”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: Cursing (maybe?)

A/N: I did that thing where I write too much… again.

Word Count: 2394

Colson tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, drumming softly to the beat of the music coming from his radio. He pulled into the school parking lot, the line already a million cars long it seemed. But he promised Casie he would pick her up whenever he wasn’t working so she didn’t have to take the bus. If that meant spending thirty minutes in a line of slow-moving cars, so be it.

As he was jamming, he glanced out the passenger window, finding a smaller building with a chain link fence outside, surrounding a child’s playground. The door happened to swing open while he was looking, and from there time seemed to move in slow motion.

Out of the door came a dozen or so toddlers, waddling their way outside, surrounding the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. The sun bounced off of your skin perfectly, making everything around you seem so much brighter.

Your skirt flowed with the slight breeze, making the scene more picturesque. He watched as you reached down, picking up one of the toddlers and holding him in your arms. The small boy seemed to be crying, over what Colson couldn’t tell.

You seemed to be speaking to the boy, bouncing him up and down in your arms to comfort him. Meanwhile, a little girl with pigtails made her way over to you. You spoke to her brightly, reaching the arm that wasn’t holding the boy to hold her hand.

Colson’s eyes followed you as you let her drag you over to the playground. You supported her as she climbed the small rock-climbing wall and reach the landing for the slide. You then smiled as she made her way down the slide, telling her good job when she made it to the bottom.

You then turned your attention back to the boy in your arms, making silly faces at him until he laughed.

All it took was those few moments for Colson to get hooked. If there was one thing he found attractive above all else, it was women who loved children. He refused to date anyone who wasn’t supportive of his relationship with Casie, so you were already ahead of everyone on his list. It also helped that you were breathtakingly beautiful.

Colson just got good vibes from you. From his brief observation of you, he could tell you were compassionate and kind, but also childlike and fun, much like himself.

The blonde man was pulled from his thoughts as the car in front of him started moving, signaling the line was moving.

The next day, Colson had a plan. Instead of driving into the school parking lot, he pulled into the pre-school. He checked himself out in the mirror, praying he would see you working. He stepped out of the car, putting on his best confused dad face, and walked into the building.

And by some miracle, you happened to be speaking with the woman at the front desk.

You were even prettier up close, eyes meeting his and stopping him dead in his tracks. You smiled kindly, voice ringing out, “can I help you, sir.”

He returned your smile, “I was looking for the middle school but I have a feeling I ended up in the wrong place.”

You giggled slightly, “just a little. The middle school is just next door.” You pointed to your right. “Are you picking up a sibling?” You asked.

Truthfully, the man had caught your eye the moment he stepped into the door. It was rare you saw someone your own age, and he was exponentially more attractive than most men. What would it hurt if you got to know him a little bit?

“My daughter, actually.” He spoke, fiddling with the key in his hand. You tilted your head, his face seeming vaguely familiar.

You hesitated before speaking, “who’s your daughter? I substitute over there sometimes and you look vaguely familiar.”

He bit his lip, hoping he hadn’t blown his cover. “Casie Baker.” But surely, he’d have remembered you if he’d met you.

Your eyes widened at the name, “Casie? She’s my absolute favorite!” You grinned at the man, realizing immediately that their similar features made him feel familiar. “She’s awesome.”

Colson smiled, letting out a nervous chuckle, “thank you. Yeah, she’s great.”

“She tells me about you. Whenever I sub in her classes, she talks about how cool you are.”

Colson blushed lightly, rubbing his neck. “I’m Colson.” He reached out an arm to shake your hand, mentally kicking himself as soon as he did it.

You found it endearing, shaking his hand “Y/N.”

A few days passed and Colson still couldn’t get over how soft your hands were, or how your touch sent electricity running through his body.

He felt ridiculous, leaving rehearsals and recording sessions to pick Casie up with the hope that he gets a glimpse of you.

After a few days of nothing, he almost loses that hope. Until he happens to arrive at the school a little bit early, windows rolled down to let the cool air in. He hears the sudden sound of children laughing, pulling his attention to the playground next door.

And there you are, in all your beautiful glory. Guiding the kids out, helping them into swings and onto the stairs.

Colson must’ve pleased some God because you looked over your shoulder and found him. Of all the cars in the line, you found his, eyes locking immediately. You smiled softly, reaching a hand over to him and waving. He waved back, trying to keep his cool. But really, he was freaking out.

He thought about saying something, or mouthing something, rather, as you were too far away to hear him, but he was stopped by the beautiful brown hair of his favorite girl in the world. Casie plopped herself down on the seat next to him, her backpack falling to the floor with a frown on her face.

She looked up to her dad, about to complain about her day when she saw his preoccupation. She followed his eyes, finding you in the playground. Immediately her mood was lifted, and she turned back to her dad with a grin on her face.

“Daaad?” She questioned, her voice lifting at the end of her question. The blond man looked down to her a soft smile in his face.

“Hey Case, how was school?”

“You think she’s pretty, right?” Casie ignored his question.

Colson scoffed, rolling his eyes, and shifting his car into gear. “She’s… pretty. I guess.” He mumbled, pressing lightly on the gas.

Casie continued smiling up at him, “that’s Ms. Y/N. She’s the coolest.”

“Put your seatbelt on.” He said, pulling out of the parking lot. “And I know, I met her the other day.”

Casie’s eyes lit up at the thought of her two favorite adults meeting. “Really? How? Did you like her?”

Colson chuckled at his daughter, “I went into the pre-school parking lot by accident and she showed me how to get here.” He blushed, knowing Casie would easily spot his lie.

And that she did, “I’ve been going here for almost two years, how did you accidentally go into the wrong parking lot? You pick me up all the time.”

Colson coughed nervously, “so, how was school?” He tried to change the subject.

Casie gasped, “did you go to the preschool just to see her? You like her!”

“I just met her Casie.”

“You like Ms. Y/N!” she sang, dancing in her seat.

“How was school, loser?” He asked, laughing at her.

She ignored him, again. “Does she know you’re my dad? Did she say anything about me?”

He rolled his eyes, chuckling to himself at her excitement. “Yes, she does, and yes, she did.”

“What did she say?” Casie practically yelled.

“She said you were the worst student she’s ever substituted for.” He smirked, flinching lightly as Casie slapped his arm.

“She did not say that!” The girl pouted, “Ms. Y/N is my favorite teacher in the whole world.”

He couldn’t help but smile at her affection for you. “She’s not even technically your teacher. But she did say that you were her favorite student.”

Her eyes twinkled, “really?”

Colson nodded, “she also told me that you talk about me in class.” He looked at the girl, raising an eyebrow, “any reason why?”

Casie sunk into her seat, a guilty expression on her face. “No.” Colson looked back to the road, but his eyebrow was still raised, “Okay, fine. I just think it’d be really cool if my favorite dad and my favorite teacher were… friends.”

Colson laughed, “I am your only dad, first of all, and second… don’t be weird.”

“But you said you liked her!” Casie pointed out, making the man’s ears turn red.

“I said she was pretty, that’s not the same thing.”

Casie sang again, “whatever you say.”

He rolled his eyes again, letting out a sigh and dropping the conversation, knowing he would lose. “Are you gonna tell me how school was or not?”

Casie sighed, hitting her back against the seat, “Mr. Clemmons was being mean today again. He said he’s not gonna curve our test even though only 2 people got an A on it.” She crossed her arms and huffed.

Colson pouted, bringing a hand to rub her shoulder, “what’d you get on it?”

She mumbled out, “a B.”

His eyes went wide, “dude, what? That’s awesome, that’s above average. You should be proud of that!” He always tried to encourage Casie, knowing the insane amount of pressure people put on their kids nowadays and not wanting her to feel that.

Casie shrugged, “yeah but my guidance counselor says if I want to get into a magnet program in high school, I have to get all A’s. And I have to get in a magnet program high school to get into a good college.”

His eyes went wide as he pulled into his driveway, “woah, woah, woah. You’re 11 years old! You don’t need to worry about that stuff and whoever is telling you that is wrong. Getting a B or even a C isn’t gonna stop you from getting into whatever program you want, I promise.”

Casie sighed, opening the door, and sliding out. “I don’t wanna talk about this anymore. Can we go back to talking about how you like Ms. Y/N?” She asked, her shoulders slumped.

Colson rolled his eyes, climbing out of the car and following her inside. “I don’t like Ms. Y/N.” He groaned.

“Whatever, but next time she substitutes my class, I’m texting you and you’re gonna bring me lunch and talk to her.” Casie said, going to her room and throwing her backpack onto her bed.

A week and a half later, Colson was sitting in his car in the school parking lot, staring at himself through his rearview mirror. He looked at the bag of chick-fil-a in the passenger side seat and sighed. His phone buzzed, a text from Casie coming through.

Lunch is starting, where are you???

He chuckled and texted back.

Going to the office now, calm down

He grabbed the bags and drinks, opening his door and stepping out. He made his way through the office, getting his visitor’s badge, and moving towards the cafeteria. He opened the door, searching through the sea of children for his daughter, only to find your eyes instead.

You smiled brightly, head tilting as if to ask why he’s here. He returned the smile, holding up the bags to answer your question. Casie appeared next to you, waving her hand. Colson made his way through the pre-teens, trying not to crush any of them.

Casie and you giggled at his struggle, joking with each other. Eventually he reached you two, setting the food on the table that Casie had reserved just for you three. The girl took her place across from him, motioning you to sit down next to him. You laughed but followed her directions.

Colson took the food out of the bag, passing Casie her sandwich and fries and pulling his food out of the bag. He turned to you, a smile on his face. “Woah, they must’ve given me an extra sandwich.” He held it out for you to take.

You obliged, giggling lightly. “How strange.” You commented, your smile never leaving.

“Oh, right. Ms. Y/N, this is my dad, Colson. Dad, this is Ms. Y/N, the best substitute ever.” Casie said, pointing between the two.

Colson chuckled, “yes, Casie. We’ve met.” He looked over to you, hiding his laugh behind his sandwich.

“Yep. Someone got lost and found me at the preschool.” You said, your voice exaggerating. Shit, Colson thought, you were onto him. “Speaking of, Casie. I know you’ve been talking about needing volunteer hours. If you want you can come by after school some days and help me with the aftercare program? I can take you home afterwards if your dad can’t pick you up.”

Casie smiled brightly, nodding her head. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!”

Colson watched the interaction, fondness in his eyes. If he wasn’t sure before, he was now. He was falling hard.

You turned to him, kindness in your eyes, “if it’s okay with your dad.” You said and he nodded.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind having her around. I’m cool with it.” He tried to hide the blush on his cheeks as you continued to look at him, taking in his features.

Casie squealed, “thank you!”

You simply smiled and shrugged, “it’s not a big deal. I get some extra help and I get to spend some more time with my favorite 11-year-old. Maybe her dad can even stop by and help sometime.”

You turned to the man next to you, who was sure he’d turned very red. He was never this nervous around women, but something about you made him incredibly self-conscious, like he had to impress you.

He mumbled out a quick “huh?” before registering your question. “Uh, yeah, sure. If you want me to come help. I’d be cool with that.” He turned to meet your eyes.

You giggled, holding the eye contact, “I do want you to. I’d like it a lot if you did.”

Casie looked between you two, suddenly regretting what she’d done, “are you two done? I’m trying to eat my sandwich.”

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #colson baker imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker fluff #colson imagine #colson baker x reader

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severelytalentless · 3 years

Text

Red Eye Chapter 1

Stranger/Businessman!Getou x Fem!Reader

The flight isn't the only thing that's long..

A/N: This is what happens when I'm left alone with my horny thoughts at the airport. Thanks for adding me to the list@nkogneatho / @atsumuscumslut

CW/TW: sexual scenarios & strong language, alcohol consumption & slight intoxication, shameless flirtation, dirty talk, praise kink, exhibitionism, semi-public fingering, orgasm denial

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(telepatia - kali uchis)

Gate B9

You strut down the walkway to your gate. The wheels of your bag click across the tile floor in time with the click of your heels. You have plenty of time before your flight and it's been a long day full of business meetings with people that make you want to beat your head against the table. It's about time for a drink.

You take a seat at the airport bar and order an overpriced draft. You toe off your heels and wish you could take off these stockings as well. The bar faces the center walkway and is conveniently located across from your gate. You sip your beer and hope it’ll water down your stress levels. You pop your headphones in and zone out, judging people you'll never know as they walk by.

Tacky matching Hawaiian shirts..

Oh, honey, those pumps are way too high, this isn't a strip club..

Love that dress..hate the hair..

Woah...hold on..

Your eyes linger on a smartly dressed man sitting alone at your gate. He's reading the paper, you can't see his face. His shoes look expensive, so does his watch. Half of his long dark hair is pulled back into a bun that suits him very well. The man knows how to dress. You lean back in your chair and take a long drink, still appraising him. He folds the paper together to turn the page, revealing his profile. You smirk and hum to yourself.

Mhm..yea..he's hot. Very hot. Tall dark and so fucking handsome. Totally your type. He's got a face you'd like to see between your-

Oh, he's looking..

You look away in reflex, tipping more beer into your mouth. After pretending to check your phone, you glance back over.

He's still looking at you. His lips pull into the slightest smirk.

Oh..alright then

You knock back the rest of the pint and cross your legs, choosing to hold his eye contact.

The anonymity of airports tends to bring out your risky side. You may be a frequent flyer, but what are the odds that you'll ever see this particular guy again? You gamble that they're pretty low, so you decide to have some fun with this staring contest and play with this stranger a little.

You lock eyes with him, set down your glass, and reach up to release your bun and let your hair fall down around your shoulders. He slowly tilts his head and squints curiously at you. You smirk and unbutton the top of your blouse You lean back in your chair, threading your fingers through your hair and massaging your scalp.

He's still looking..

You like this game. It makes you feel sexy, holding the attention of a complete stranger like this. His obvious interest is turning you on a little. You roll your head and massage your neck, then trace your fingers down along your collarbone.

He folds his paper up and looks away, then checks his watch.

Damn it..you lost him..

Your bubble of confidence promptly bursts. You sigh and roll your eyes. Game over.

Wait..no.

He's getting up..

Oh shit..

He's coming over.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(you that I want - divine)

Your heart does an excited little flip and takes a shot of adrenaline as you watch him stride your way. You casually remove your headphones as he pulls out the chair next to you.

"Is this seat taken?"

Damn, he's even more handsome up close. That silky low voice tickles a chill up through your spine.

You maintain composure, flip over the part of your hair and shrug like you couldn't care less.

"All yours.."

He sits beside you and flags down the waitress.

"What are you drinking?"

"Whatever you're drinking.."

You see his eyes flick down to your neckline, then he holds your gaze as he orders.

"Irish whiskey please, straight. Same for her."

The waitress nods and hurries off, leaving you alone with your mysterious new friend. You both look out and watch the passengers walk by. He continues his flirty game of questions.

“Business or pleasure?”

"Business"

"Long day?"

"Is it that obvious?" he nods to your feet.

"No shoes" you huff a giggle. The drinks arrive.

"I like the stockings.." He raises his glass and looks you in the eyes again. You clink and he takes a sip.

"I like the cologne.. " you smirk and bring the glass to your lips. He watches the liquid pour into your mouth between the dark red lipstick. Filthy thoughts flood his mind.

"Single?"

"Free agent.." he raises an eyebrow and offers his hand.

"Suguru Getou" you lay your hand in his and sip your whiskey.

"Y/N L/N" he folds his thumb over your fingers and brings your hand to his lips, pressing them gently on your knuckles. A little blush washes into your cheeks at the chivalrous gesture. He looks up at you as he lifts them from your skin.

“Pretty name..”

Damn, his voice is so sexy.

“Thank you..” you smirk and he rubs his thumb across your knuckles.

“Even prettier smile..”

You roll your eyes and finally take your hand from him.

“Well aren't you charming..” you joke, but it's true. His eyes travel south, taking their time navigating down your body.

“Great legs too..” you sip more whiskey and hum in agreement. This man is smooth with compliments, stroking your ego in all the right ways.

“And this hair..” he leans in and twirls a little bit around his finger. Your senses bristle when he leans even closer and whispers into your ear.

“Don't get me started on those fuck me eyes..” your heart thumps more heat into your cheeks at his bold words. You scoff through your smile and lightly bat him out of your hair.

“Oh behave” he hums and shakes his head, leaning back in to sweep your hair over your shoulder, letting his fingers lightly graze your neck just enough to make your shoulders drop and raise goosebumps on your skin.

“I prefer not to..” He hears the heavy little breath you just let out. You shift in your seat and try to calm your fluster with another sip of whiskey.

He has such an attractive confidence about him, so completely sure of himself. That and the way he's been subtly undressing you with his eyes this whole time has made you incredibly hot and bothered.

He can tell..

He's perceptive. He spotted you the moment you waltzed up to the bar in those seductive little black heels. He was checking you out while you watched those people pass by.

He knows your kind. An underrated pent-up workaholic with a kinky side. You don't take shit from anyone, but you have to work for old wrinkled men who see you as an office decoration.

He can tell you're so much more than that.

You're intelligent, sophisticated, and independent. Being ridiculously sexy is just a cherry on top.

He loves women like you.

He smirks and leans back in his seat glancing at his watch. He downs the rest of his drink before waving two fingers at the waitress for another round.

“One more?”

You throw yours back as well and he is visibly impressed.

“Oh..I like you..”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You're on whiskey number three, feeling warm and tingly all over. The suggestive banter hasn't let up, pouring fuel over the sexual tension that radiates from your little corner of the bar.

You're not thinking about work anymore.

You're thinking about the size of the carry-on item this man is packing in his trousers. He is the definition of big dick energy.

Meanwhile, he's already come up with about 5 different ways to make you cum on the plane.

“How often do you travel internationally for work?”

“Once or twice a month”

“First class?” you nod into your glass.

“The company takes very good care of me..”

He pauses and raises an eyebrow, swirling the drink around in his glass, thinking about how well he's gonna take care of you on this flight.

“Are you a member of the club?” you scoff and roll your eyes.

“Of course, but this airport doesn't have a member lounge, otherwise I wouldn't be sitting at this bar.” he grins and shakes his head.

“Oh..you are so cute..”

You both hear the PA system chime and announce your flight is about to begin boarding. He signs the air at the waitress for the check.

“I’m not talking about that kinda club, sweetheart..”

Oh..mile high club

Tingling heat drips down between your legs and your pulse flutters. He chuckles, seeing your eyes go wide and your brows jump at the realization.

He pushes out of his seat and collects his briefcase. You stand up quickly and realize just how tipsy you are as you slip back into your heels. You don't notice him move in close by your side until his hand slides across the small of your back. Your breath catches and you freeze as he leans to whisper in your ear. You can hear sex in his voice.

“I'll get you a membership..”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(hush - the marias)

Oh boy, maybe you shouldn't have had that last drink. Three hours into the flight and you still feel intoxicated, even after having dinner. You recline in your first-class seat and open the air vent all the way. The cool breeze fans the heat off your face, but you're still very hot and turned on by the statement Suguru left you with at the bar.

Your core twists and you sigh as you replay his words in your mind, letting your head roll back into the headrest. You writhe in your seat and close your eyes, kicking off your heels again. The temperature of the pooling heat inside you rises as you imagine him making good on that membership offer. You pet your thighs and consider slipping your fingers between.

"Are you thinking about me?" You flinch and snap out of your lusty headspace.

Well..not really.

The flight attendants have started taking their breaks and most of the other passengers in first class are asleep, so no one noticed him switch seats.

You roll your head over and look at him sitting next to you in the seat that was paid to be empty. He's lost the blazer and tie, his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and his collar is unbuttoned.

He's just so sexy..

He leans on the armrest and cocks his head, hiding his smirk behind his fist with his chin on his palm.

You raise an eyebrow and give in to this sensual urge.

“What if I was..” he hums and turns to slide the partition closed, separating your seats from the aisle. He's got you all to himself now.

The dim glow of the cabin lights looks good on you. Your pulse quickens as his fingers brush up your thigh over your sheer black stocking. He lifts the hem of your skirt, revealing the pretty lace trim on the stockings and the garter clip holding them up.

His cock stiffens in his trousers. You're so completely his type. Naughty elaborate lingerie is his weakness. Makes him wanna tear your clothes off and find out what the rest of it looks like. He licks his canine at the corner of the smirk that parts his lips.

“I’d ask how wet you are..” His eyes smolder at you in the soft ambient light. You eye fuck him right back and bite your pretty red lip.

You shift in your seat and uncross your legs. He watches you slowly spread your knees apart, fingers helping your skirt ride up even more. His jaw muscles clench and he hooks his finger under the lace, stroking back and forth over your soft skin. You reach over and tug on his collar, looking down at his lips.

“Why don't you check..” he clicks his tongue and lets his hand wander around the curve of your inner thigh and down between.

“You..are..trouble..”

The hushed words fall from his lips one by one as he toys with the edge of your panties. He strokes into the wetness soaking through the fabric, igniting your arousal as if it were a match to be struck. The pressure lights you up and you inhale sharply.

“Hhu..Sugu-”

You hold your tongue and swallow the rest of his name. He chuckles in his throat and relishes the lewd expression he just put on your face. He takes your little display of self-control as a challenge.

You grip the armrest tighter and paw at his shirt as he slides his fingers into your lace panties and dips into the brimming slick between your folds. Your breath comes out hot. He growls into your ear in approval of your dripping wet cunt.

“S’this all for me, hm?”

He rolls your clit in slow circles and hums through his devilish smile. Your mouth drops open as your eyes fall shut.

You nod. It's all for him.

“Huh..ye-yess..”

There's the lusty sigh he wants to hear.

“Such a good girl..getting all wet for me like this..”

He praises your arousal and keeps pushing more pleasure through your clit into your core. You can't help but whimper and hum. It feels so naughty letting him do this to you with other passengers just inches away. He leans in and breaths against your neck.

“D’you want me to make you cum right here in your seat?” he rubs a little harder, a little faster. Your back flexes and your breath catches.

“Mm-hm..” you nod more urgently. He lands a kiss on your neck and you swoon, blood rushing in all directions through your body.

Fuck this is way too hot..

“I wonder how long you can keep quiet..” He glides his fingers down and teases your tight slippery little entrance, then sinks them inside, watching your head tilt back and your brows furrow in pleasure. A quiet breathy moan escapes your parted lips. He nuzzles in and growls more erotic words into your ear.

“Shh..keep it down babe..you don't want them to find out what I'm doing to you..how deep my fingers are inside you..” you bite the next moan into your lip as he licks your neck, then sucks a mark up into the hot skin. It makes you shiver and squirm around his thick fingers. He strokes the knot in your core and your back flexes against the seat again.

“Or do you..”

He pushes in, knuckles deep. You try your best to hush the pretty little sounds he's pulling out of you. He clicks his tongue.

“Maybe you like the attention..want them to hear you moan like that? I bet you do..”

Even if that wasn't true, the digits curling inside you make it impossible for you to hold it together.

“Hu-oh fuck..right..there..don't stop..” you pant out the whispered plea, breath catching on every syllable. He's so damn good at this, it makes eyes water.

“Not until you're shaking sweetheart..” you whimper. His words are lethal. Your core throbs and twists and begs for release.

“You’re gonna cum right here..then I’m gonna fuck you senseless..” He's a man on a mission and it's too fucking sexy.

His eye contact is intense and your heart punches at your ribs.

Then he thumbs your tender needy clit forcing your eyes to the back of your head.

“Uuh! Shhhit..ahh-ooh..right fucking there-yess..” You quiet the panting outburst of desire down to a strained whisper and arch hard in your seat, clutching onto both armrests for dear life.

You go silent and seize up as you peak, toes curling in your stockings, desperate not to scream.

He purrs more filth into your ear, fully solidifying your climax.

“I don't care if they hear you. Fucking cum for me..”

You groan and fall into it, shuddering and writhing as he continues to knead that blissful spot inside you. You hold your breath as he eggs you on further, patronizing you in that silky tone and rubbing into your pulsing clit even more.

“Yes..that’s a good..fucking..girl..I know you like that..does it feel good baby?” you bite down hard into your lip and nod feverishly with tears on your lashes before your eyes cross up and your head falls back. Your whole body convulses, feet pushing into the nearest surface, cunt clenching around his pumping fingers. He watches you fall apart.

You can't hold back anymore.

It's too fucking good.

You release an explicit cry over the droning hum of the aircraft engines and pull in a sharp gasp. Blood flares up into your cheeks and your heart beats wildly, you throw your hand over your mouth to shut yourself up. He grins while you struggle to control the breathy whimpers that follow.

His cock couldn't be any harder. He fucking loves this, making you cum in public, forcing those trembling moans, watching your body flex, feeling your sticky walls contract around his fingers.

He slows down his assault, but he's not stopping.

He won't stop.

He's having too much fun pushing you past your threshold of stimulation. You squirm and tug at his sleeve, eyes begging him to have mercy on your swollen electrified clit. But the slow torturous circling continues.

“You wanna scream so badly, don't you..poor thing..”

You nod again and cry into your palm, pressing your thighs together around his arm but he just won't stop. You jerk and flinch and feel another orgasm clawing its way up into your core. He bites his grin, his eyes gleam with malicious intent. You're such a pretty mess. He knows you'll never forget this. Tears roll from your eyes.

"You wanna cum again?"

Oh God..

You grasp his forearm, nodding frantically.

His fingers tug you to the edge from the inside.

You scrunch your eyes shut and brace for another orgasm.

Then he stops.

"Not yet sweetheart.."

Your eyes fly open and you whimper at the loss of traction. You're so worked up. A needy ache grabs and twists the knot that he retied so quickly inside you.

"Please..please" it isn't like you to be so pathetic and shamelessly horny, begging him for more like this. But you don't care. You're not just drunk off the whiskey anymore. This man is intoxicating all on his own, and if you never get to see him again, you're gonna make the most of him on this plane.

He smirks at your frustrated state and pulls his fingers out of you. He casually licks them and rubs your stocking as you pant. Then he brings them to your lips and you open up willingly, tasting your own arousal. He holds your chin with his other hand and gives you instructions as you lick his knuckles clean.

"Be a good girl..take off your panties..bring them to the bathroom.."

You nod obediently. He pats your flushed cheek and slides the partition open.

"We'll need something to put in your mouth while I'm fucking you.."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@yelzoldyck

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xsugarysweetsx · 3 years

Note

hehe the way I smiled when I saw that your requests r open!!Thank you😗

May I request Cherry X Reader where they r in an arranged marriage. Like maybe the reader is from a traditional family and she agrees to it anyway since she loves her parents but is low-key scared of being his wife/a mother. They have a rocky start but end up falling in love. Maybe one day cherry takes her to S to see him race and meet the gang and she loves it. You can make it spicy at the end if you like 👀

idk why but I always think about this when I see him and also braiding his hair coz it's so much prettier than mine 😒💖

A/N:I don’t understand how a man can be so beautiful// much longer than I expected it to be....

Please enjoy~🍰

Warnings; Some mention of smut; Nothing too detailed, but it’s there

*******************************************************

“Come here your kimono isn’t tight enough“ your mother said as she went behind you to tighten it even more than before

“Mom! I can’t breath if it’s this tight!“ you said almost wheezing for air.

“You have to make sure your waist looks small and appealing” she said, even though, looks are not everything in a relationship. As much as you didn’t want to, you had to look your best today, it was important. You were going to meet the man you were to marry. You were part of an important family in Japan, and of course your family was very traditional. This only meant you were already expecting an arranged marriage.

Today you were meeting with him for the first time. From what you heard, he was a successful calligrapher, and popular with women. You didn't quite know how to feel with that, but this was your future. Most people wouldn't agree with arranged marriages but, you love your parents and this is what they wanted.

They told you that he was a gentleman, and very respectful. Well your hopes were up now, hopefully you’re not disappointed. Could you possibly end up in a good marriage? walking into the home you were greeted not by someone work there, but by a voice.

“Welcome, master Kaoru is waiting for you in the meeting room.“ for someone who is traditional he sure had a good AI system. Walking off to the right your father opens the sliding door and there he was. A young man with long pink hair and glasses, he wore traditional clothing and seemed very proper.

“Mr & Mrs Y/L/N, welcome please take a seat.” Not a hint of emotion on his face.

He was stoic but not cold. He poured you all some tea and your parents begin to discuss the marriage. Now that you say there and listened to everything, it really started sinking in. You were getting married to a complete stranger. You didn’t know the first thing about marriage! Or being a wife! Oh gods.....what if they expected children??

A million things were flooding your mind, you felt so lost. In all honesty, you were scared of what was to come..

“Y/N..” you were brought out of your thoughts by your mother gently shaking your shoulder “are you alright? You look sick”

“O-oh, yes I’m fine!“ you assure her swallowing the lump in your throat

“If you say so, we need you and Mr.Sakurayashiki to sign the papers as well. In 2 weeks time there will be a wedding ceremony but for now, we must fill out the papers.“ you watch Kaoru take the pen read the line and signs his name next was your turn.

He hands you the paper and pen, you bite your bottom lip as you read ‘spouse sign here’. You let out a shaky breath as the ink forms your name on the paper. After some more discussions on the wedding it was your time to leave. You all thanked him for tea and his time. Before you walked out the door he asked t speak with you for a moment, making your heart drop. You parents wait outside as you have a word with the pink haired man.

“Y/N, I just want you to relax, I noticed you were nervous before and you should know I won’t mistreat you and will try to be a proper spouse“

“Oh, uhm thank you Mr-“

He interrupts you “Please call me Kaoru“

<><><><>

Just as planned the wedding happened 2 weeks from then. You couldn’t stop blushing that day, from anxiety, to shyness, to even Kaoru. He looked very handsome that day, and he was just as much as gentleman. The ceremony was calm and heartfelt, friends and family gathered to witness your union. He saw you were very nervous that day so, instead of a general kiss he gave you a quick peck.

Only for you to duck you flustered face, he found it quite cute actually. He thought you looked beautiful that day in traditional wedding attire. He took mental note son how you were as a person. Although you seemed somewhat intimidated, you were considerate and kind. You helped people who needed it, and you put others before yourself. He just hoped this marriage will have a good outcome.

———

“We don’t have to do this” he simply said beginning to disrobe

“But-“ usually it was on the first night of the wedding when. It should happen

“If we get to that stage in our relationship, then you can tell me. You don’t have to force yourself. I can leave the room until you’re done getting changed” he left the room so that you can change. You take a moment to assess the situation, and you smile to yourself

“How considerate...“ you think to yourself. after changing, you both ordered room service and have dinner for the night. He was nice to talk to, it had some interesting topics to share with you. Even his calligraphy job seemed interesting. He offered to take a different room while you slept in this one's may be comfortable, but you said it was okay and you were fine with sharing a bed.

he's not like most men I hear about an arranged marriages. He's not forcing you to do anything, he's asking if I'm comfortable with everything. All the stories really kind of scared me into this, maybe it won't be so bad....maybe....

<><><><>

“Y/N, get dressed we’re going out tonight“ he says coming to you and kisses your cheek. It has been about 11 months, almost a year, since you married and it has been better than you thought. of course you had fears of Nami and expectations of a “good wife”. He made sure to tell you how much of a good job you were doing, even if you didn't do much. He thought you were perfect the way you are. He also believe that he could trust you enough to share secret with you--he was taking you to “S”

Usually you both go to events together, especially ones that associated with his work. But tonight was different he had different attire on. He wore his hair in a ponytail, no glasses and a mask covering the bottom portion of his face.

“Where are we going? A costume party?“ you joke

“After seeing one person you mat think that“ he said but was still serious about you getting ready ““make sure you dress comfortably you don't need to wear kimono for this.” he gave you more detail “Now listen to me, where we are going you cannot speak of after. Not to me, nor to your parents or anyone else if they know about it.“

“Huh? Are we joining some secret society?“ you giggle coming back out in some jeans and a t shirt with a sweater.

“In a way, let’s go.“ if you thought tonight was strange you only got stranger, you would expect a person like him to have a motorcycle. Or to be carrying a skateboard for that matter, just who was this person and was he really your husband. Holding on to him you take off into the dead of night. eventually make it to the gate where he showed an s-shaped sticker and was granted entry. There multiple women started to scream

“Cherry!!” “Master Cherry!!” Were they referring to Kaoru?

“Yo Cherry, ya made it- and you finally brought a girl with ya. It’s about time” a tall muscular man with green hair said patting Kaoru on the back roughly. Next came a man with dramatic makeup and a cape. Two boys who seemed to ebe in high school, one with red hair and the other with blue. Finally a much younger looking boy with a cat hoodie. Huh, interesting crowd...

“Get off me!“ he said kicking him in the ass “This is Y/N, she’s my wife“ he said standing next to you and all their jaws drop

“Cherry is married?!“

“Huh, she’s pretty quiet compared to these girls...it’s kinda nice“

“Damn, and to think you could have gotten anyone but got married.“ Kaoru seemed very annoyed at this point

“Yes I am married, she’s better than the screaming women here, and I will not toy with women like you do!!“ he answered all their questions in one go “Y/N, this is a place where skateboarders come to race, it’s called ‘S’, these are JOE, MIYA, Reki, Langa, and SHADOW“

“H-hello..“ you wave to the small group and they waved back

“Y/N, do you mind stay here with Reki and Langa? I need to race and I’ll be back“ he asked laying hand to the top of your head and you nod. He leans down and places his covered lips to your forehead. He then picked up his board, it was black with some purple lining and goes to the start.

There he and JOE get ready to race as a traffic light counts their start. After it turns green they were off like rockets. It was still a lot to swallow...how he kind of had a double life and you were just now finding out about it. It was a bit overwhelming when you really watched him go. The way he picked up speed and rounded corners, made you hold your breath and gasp with each trick he did.

When they approach the finish line he had won and the crowd was chanting his name. They both made their way back bickering about who was the best skater, when they were both equally amazing. Crowds joined around them but you just stayed behind still processing everything. It wasn’t a bad thing, but you were just wondering so many thing. Cherry pushes his way through the crowd and to your side lifting your head without warning captures your lips in a kiss.

This was the most intimate you had been with him, and in public! The crowd went quiet and some of the girls there complained or whined about not being in your place. After he pulls away he whispered to you

“Let’s go home...“ and you were on your way back to the comfort of your home. That night he had made love to you for the first time ever. It was passionate, and steamy, and full of love. He was your first ever so he made sure to go slow for you. Everything about it just felt so good, the way he held and kissed you. He handled you like glass but did not fail to meet your pleasure.

That night was when you opened up about your fears of being his wife

“..and seeing how amazing you were tonight only made me more aware of who you were. I just...hope I can live up to your standards as a wife, and don’t get me started on children. Imagine having a plain mother“ you vented to him as he held you close

“Don’t say that,“ he snapped back “You’re an incredible wife and you’d be an even better mother one day. When I heard about the arrangement I was honestly nervous. And the day I saw you only raised my anxiety, I thought you were stunning, and your shyness only made you cuter“ he admits with a chuckle

“I guess....we’re both nervous wrecks who married each other then?“ you giggle looking up at him as your head lays on his chest

“You’re my nervous wreck“ he said poking your nose with his finger “...I have something else to tell you...“

“What’s that?“ you ask. He cranes his head down toward you

“...I love you“ he whispered as he catches you lips in a kiss

*******************************************************

I hope this was okay!❤️

#cherry blossom x reader #sk8 the infinity x reader #kaoru sakurayashiki #sk8 the infinity fanfic #sk8 cherry blossom #sk8 the infinity #cherry blossom #anime #anime x reader #fanfiction

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ijustwant2write · 3 years

Text

Always Mine-John Shelby x Reader

(GIF credit to @tommyshhelby)

Requested by anonymous: ‘Can you please do a imagine where y/n and John were childhood sweethearts (no Martha) and she has known the peaky blinders her whole life and they love her too but then John has to marry esme and even though tommy does feel bad he does it anyway.Y/n works in the betting house so they see eachother every day she acts like it doesn’t bother her but is obviously a bit distant with John who is still inlove with her but she is respectful of the marriage so when Michael comes in he has a crush on y/n and kinda flirts with her and John gets jealous not sure if it’s a John or Micheal imagine your choice’

Characters: John Shelby x Reader, Thomas Shelby x Reader (platonic), Michael Gray x Reader (platonic), Polly Gray x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name (Y/L/N)=Your last name

Warnings: Heartbreak, swearing, mentions/intentions of sex, arguing, violence, slight fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Heartbreak, many people went through it, many people wanted to avoid it. Although your heart wasn’t physically damaged, it felt like it was. Humans often forget how strong their emotions are. Emotions are part of our survival, they determine how we live, it controls our day, what decisions we make. Unfortunately to live, we had to experience sadness. You could turn it around and say that the bad times made the good times stronger, more enjoyable. But it’s hard to think positively when you’re stuck in a terrible situation.

“He....He’s getting married?” I whispered out, clutching onto my dressing gown as the cold air blew into the house.

Tommy was stood outside, I had invited him inside, but I was glad I hadn’t now.“Today/ I’m sorry (Y/N), it has to be done.”

“Why? Why wouldn’t he tell me?”

“John doesn’t know. And you can’t tell him.”

“Why are you telling me this? I could easily run to him now and tell him.”

“If you do that, you’ll put us all in danger.”

I was growing more angry by the second.“Aren’t you always in danger?”

“This is different. It will benefit the whole family, the Peaky Blinders. He has to do this (Y/N).”

I shook my head at him, crossing my arms over my chest. What with it being so early in the morning, no one else was out in the street, it was slightly dark, with a low fog roaming the streets.“You know I love him. You know how we feel about each other. I’m just confused. Why would you tell me this before they get married? I could go tell him, we could run away together like we said we would since we were fifteen.”

“Because I love you (Y/N). You’re basically family. It felt wrong not to. But I can’t lose you at work either. You need to stay.”

I scoffed.“I can’t believe this! You really think I’m going to stay and see the man I love everyday with a wedding ring on his finger? I can write up my resignation now if you want-”

“(Y/N)-”

“Honestly Tommy, this is taking the piss. You get away with a lot of shit, but this is just fantastic-”

“(Y/N)!”

“Wait here, I’ll get a pen and some paper-”

“(Y/N) would you just listen for a second!?” he yelled, silencing me.“You would be as equally angry with me if I told you after. Just be happy that I mentioned it at all.”

That had been the longest day of my life. Knowing that my worst fear had come true, the man I loved was marrying someone else, made time move at an incredibly slow pace. Part of me pondered crashing the wedding, if I knew where it was or who he was marrying, but I knew that Tommy was partly right. He had a huge responsibility to keep control of his power, but the way he manipulated his family infuriated me.

“John, are you sure you want to marry me?” I said to him as we laid down in a field.

“You’re really asking that after what we just did?” he asked, doing up his trousers.

“Well, Susanne and Jack do the same as us, and he hasn’t asked her.” my (not so) innocent seventeen year old self pointed out.

“Believe me, I would not be suggesting that sort of thing if I didn’t mean it.”

“So you don’t ask every girl you fuck to marry you?” I teased.

He leaned over me.“I haven’t slept with that many.”

I rolled my eyes.“I don’t care how many girls you fucked before me. As long as I’m the one who gets this sort of treatment for the rest of your life, I’m happy.”

He smirked, kissing me.“You’ve been the best out of all of them.”

“Because I do anything you want.”

He leaned down to my ear, whispering,“Because you feel fucking amazing.”

I blushed, wishing I was able to tease him more.“I’m serious John, that’s a serious commitment.”

Although we were being flirty, I knew when he was being truthful.“(Y/N), I don’t want anything else. I want you beside me. My family loves you, you’re already a Shelby in their eyes, and mine. I know they say we’re young, but these feelings I have for you re strong. I wake up thinking about you, I see other women and think, my (Y/N) is so much prettier than you. And yes, thinking about you writhing and moaning beneath me is pleasurable,” I playfully punched his shoulder, which he laughed at,“but imagining you at home with the kids, waiting for me to come back and embracing me as soon as I step foot in our house, that’s all I could ever ask for in life.”

I sobbed as I thought about that memory. We were so happy back then. We were carefree, easily daydreaming about what could have been. Then harsh reality hit us in the face. He was being forced into an arrangement with some wild gypsy girl. We were supposed to be married, I was the one whose last name should have been Shelby.

I didn’t want to hear about the wedding day. I knew that Pol, Ada or any other woman in that betting shop wouldn’t mention it in front of me.Though how was I ever to stop thinking about how the man I loved was married to someone else when I worked with him? And his new wife? Esme also had no say in this, she had been unruly and apparently the only way to sort that was to marry her off. But why did she have to work here too? She hated it here, she could never sit still. It was in her nature to be outside all the time, to run free and wildly along with the horses. Not cramped up in a betting shop counting money, surrounded by the lowest of men. Having to sit across from her as I worked was torture, seeing the wedding band made my stomach turn.

"(Y/N)?" John called me, standing in the doorway of his office.

I caught Esme glancing towards me, though I didn't care. It wasn't as if anything was about to happen, John hadn't even spoken to me since they married, not properly anyway. I had been civil towards his wife, but only speaking to her when I absolutely had to. Quietly sighing, I closed the book I had been writing in, picking up a smaller notebook and pen before entering his office. Some workers were peeking at us, they knew the drama, and it didn't help that his office was basically made of windows, meaning everyone could see us.

"You can sit down, you know you can." John gestured to the chair across from his desk, though he didn't sit.

I said nothing back.He groaned.

"Come on (Y/N), you know I hated when you gave me the silent treatment."

"Is there something you needed from me Mr Shelby?"

"You know, that only sounded nice coming from you when we were in a different environment." he smirked, thinking I would break. He was absolutely wrong.

"I have a lot of work to be getting on with-"

"I don't love her."

My eyes widened, and I kept my voice low."For fucks sake John, we shouldn't be talking about this here."

"You know I don't!" he stood in front of me, but I quickly backed away, not wanting to draw attention to ourselves."She's some random gypsy Tommy picked up on the side of the road. Esme isn't you."

"And yet you're stuck with her. So let bygones be bygones. Did you actually need me?"

"I always need you, and I will always want you."

"Right, thank you for wasting my time sir."

I promptly left, feeling my throat get tight as I pushed back my tears. If I spoke another word, my voice would crack, giving away how I truly felt. Instead of returning to where I was originally sat, I headed to the kitchen, not wanting to see Esme. It was obvious her gaze was on me as I brushed past, though I took no notice. Once there, I made myself busy filling the kettle with water and beginning to make tea, just to distract myself. As it boiled, I gripped onto the edge of the counter, painfully holding back my sobs. I couldn’t do this for the rest of my life, it was emotionally exhausting, it was torturous.

“You can’t keep up this act forever.” Polly appeared.

I didn’t bother facing her.“I know. I already told Tom I would hand him my resignation letter, he refused.”

“No, we can’t lose you, even if we had enough staff. I want you to know that I had nothing to do with that. You know what Tommy is like with his ‘big ideas’.”

I finally looked at her.“My worst fear came true. He’s with someone else. He’s married, but not to me. It’s been in our heads for so long, it was all too good to be true.”

Before Polly could speak, I saw her glance behind me. Turning around, I saw Esme standing in the doorway, her usual scowl on her face as she grabbed a mug from a cupboard.

“I’m assuming you brewed a full pot?” she asked.

“Yes.” I replied.

She put her mug beside mine, making sure it thudded against the counter. When she left, I ran my hands down my face, seriously considering walking out. Polly decided to not add anything. We would just go in circles, trying to cheer me up, reassure me, convince me to stay etc.

Managing to get through the rest of the day, I sighed in relief and tiredness as everyone started to pack their things. Putting on my coat, I smiled at one my colleagues who was approaching me.

“John has asked for you.” they warily said.

I rolled my eyes.“Did he say what he wants?”

He shook his head.“Sorry, wants you in there soon as.”

I thanked him as he left, along with everyone else. Esme held back, obviously glaring at me. She disappeared into John’s office for less than a minute before walking out again, leaving without her husband. I watched the door shut, leaving just John and I. My stomach twisted, heart beating incredibly loudly in my ears as I took my first few steps to his office. I stood in the doorway, hating that he was already looking at me, I was incredibly nervous.

He stood from his chair.“(Y/N)-”

“Please tell me this is about work.”

“I need to speak to you.”

“John, I can’t do this. We’re finished now-”

I started to walk away, not surprised when he followed, but shocked when he grabbed me, turning me around to face him.

“I know you feel the same as me. I can’t fucking stand it! I don’t want to be married to her. I don’t want to fuck her in our bed. I’ve only ever imagined coming home to see you there, not her!”

“Well that won’t happen now, will it?!” I snapped back, trying to make him let go of my arms.

As I struggled, John was able to keep a grasp on me.“It can! We’ll figure out a way! But I need to kiss you. I need to be able to hold you in my arms, to really feel you. I want to keep planning our future together.”

“Tommy has made his decision, and with this family, anything he says goes! You really think we could change any of this? Even if we did, imagine the trouble you would all be in.”

“I don’t care. I would take ten bullets to the chest if it meant being with you.”

“You can’t be saying things like that.”

His eyes were crazy, staring into my soul, fingers pressing into my skin. I felt him pull me closer, it was ever so slow, and I could have stopped it. But I didn’t. We cautiously leaned in for a kiss, making memories and feelings flood back. His hands relaxed, moving up to cup my face. The passion didn’t last long, because before I knew it, I was being pushed back against a desk, clumsily lying on my back. John wasted no time to touch my breasts, continuing to kiss me as it slid down my body, disappearing up my skirt. Although it was extremely tempting to carry on, the weighing guilt made me stop him.

“John.” I breathed out, giving him the wrong idea as he kept going, sucking on my neck. I pushed against him.“John, stop.”

He pulled away.“What? What’s wrong?” he went straight back down to my neck, trying to unbutton my blouse.

“Stop!” I said a little louder, managing to sit up and push him away.

“(Y/N), I know it’s been a while but-”

“It’s not that, you idiot! You’re married!”

“To a woman I don’t love!”

I let out a frustrated scream, buttoning up my blouse again as I stood.“I’m not going to be that woman sleeping with married men, I’m not a whore!”

“Why are you denying your feelings? We were supposed to get married.”

“We were kids back then.”

He pointed an accusing finger at me.“I said that to you every year, we were always waiting for the right time!”

“Life doesn’t always work out John!” I yelled.“This is just as agonising to me as it is to you! But if we ruin this, the Lee’s are going to come for you all, and there’s already enough on your plates to deal with them.”

“I don’t give a fuck about them-”

“But I give a fuck about you living!” I snatched up my coat and handbag, pushing past him towards the door. With my hand on the handle, I calmed down before speaking again.“Obviously we weren’t meant to be. Though at least we didn’t take our time together for granted. Don’t try any of that again John, I mean it.”

For the next week, I didn’t utter a word to John, I didn’t even glance in his direction. I considered sending in my resignation. But after thinking about it, I knew I couldn’t bring myself to do it. These people were my family, I grew up in this business. If I left, I had a slim chance of finding a normal job, because everyone knew who I was associated with. Why would anyone risk taking on someone who was involved with the Peaky Blinders? I was paid more than I should have been for my position, and they trusted me with anything; it would be stupid of me to throw that away and lose everything I worked so hard for.

Surprisingly, Esme hadn’t piped up towards me in that time. I thought she might say something, even if she wasn’t triggered, due to her fiery personality. However, John had been relentless with his attempts to make me speak to him, even trying to trap me in the vault with him. I couldn’t break, I couldn’t let him get to me again. As much as my heart ached for him, as much as I wanted him to grab my face and kiss me again, I would never break a marriage. The guilt that would live with me fr the rest of my life was too much to bear.

At the beginning of another day, I had just breezed into the shop when Lizzie approached me.“(Y/N), Tommy wants to see you.”

I sighed.“Did he say why?”

She shook her head.“You know what he’s like. But he’s asking for you now.”

I didn’t bother taking off my coat or setting my bag down, following Lizzie to his office. She knocked before opening the door, letting me walk in before closing it behind me, and I was left with Tommy, who was hunched over his desk as he looked through papers; however, there was also another man, a younger man.

“Come in (Y/N), let me introduce you to someone.” Tommy stood, setting the papers aside.

My steps were slower than they usually would be as I analysed the stranger. He looked younger than me, but not by that many years. His hat was in his hands, and although he wore a suit, it wasn’t like the ones the Shelby boys wore. His hair was slightly curly, not slicked back or short like most men around Small Heath, and he seemed shy, maybe more reclusive.

“I’m Michael.” he offered his hand out which I shook.

“I’m (Y/N).” I politely smiled.

“(Y/N) is basically family and has worked with us from the beginning.” Tommy explained.“This boy here, (Y/N), is Polly’s son.”

My eyes widened at Tommy as I let go of Michael’s hand.“Wait, you mean...the children she was always talking about...?”

“I’ve come back to find out about my real family. And to start working here too.” Michael added.

“So I need you to keep a close eye on him, help him with whatever he needs. (Y/N) knows the ins and outs of this place, she’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

For the rest of the day, Michael shadowed one of the workers that dealt with the winnings, counting money and figuring out how to run the shop floor. I would occasionally pop up when I thought he needed someone kinder and quiet to help, or just to check on him. He was sweet, but that wouldn’t help him in this environment. Luckily, Michael made it hard for John to bother me, he didn’t have the usual opportunities to bombard me with questions about why I didn’t want to fight for what we had. My shift finished quickly, it seemed like I had only been there an hour and we were already leaving.

“Come on Michael, let me take you for a drink. You deserve it after today.” I offered as we walked out of the shop.

He was hesitant before smiling.“Alright then. Where should we go?”

“We’ll go to the Garrison, your cousins are basically royalty there, meaning we are too. And don’t worry about your mum, she would rather you be with me than with the boys.”

Happily greeting Harry as we walked into the pub, he nudged the other bartender to get my usual drink. After asking Michael what he wanted, I called it out to Harry before disappearing into the private room.

“We’re allowed in here?” Michael asked.

“Yeah, don’t worry. Like Tommy said, I’m family.” the window opened, a bartender passing us our drinks.“So, how did you end up in a place like this?”

We indulged in a conversation about Michael’s life growing up. It wasn’t a good upbringing, he had been through a lot of hardships as a child, and now being thrown into a completely different life was only adding to the confusion he had growing up, but he wanted to be independent. Get away from the boring country and work in an interesting job.

Michael glanced down at his drink, seeming hesitant to speak.“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but is there something between you and John? I thought he was married to Esme.”

I scoffed.“He is. Seems to keep forgetting that.”

“Sorry, I shouldn't have asked-”

“It’s fine. You’re family, you should know what’s going on. We...wow, I’ve never actually spoken about this. John and I developed feelings for each other as we grew up, we became a couple. We always said we would get married, anyone could see we were deeply in love. However, Tommy arranged a marriage between John and Esme, it was to form a truce between the Shelby’s and the Lee family, Esme’s family.”

“That’s horrible. Tommy still did that even though he knew you two were together?”

“Yep.” I downed the rest of my drink.“Welcome to the family business.”

“I understand the need for a truce but...”

“I know what you’re thinking. Although it was heartbreaking, I know nothing can be done about it. And I am not a home wrecker!”

He was shocked by my snappy tone.“I-I didn’t say you were.”

“I know, force of habit.”

The door opened, the Shelby brothers walking in, and only three of them smiled at us, it was obvious who didn’t. They greeted us as they sat, the window opening instantly with their drinks on the tray. Michael and I were still tense from our talk, though tried not to show it as Arthur began rambling on about something stupid Finn had done that day. I tried my hardest to listen, though it was hard to when I could feel John’s eyes on me, and he was angry. Everyone else could tell as well, but they didn’t want to deal with John’s attitude right now. After Arthur finished his story, I excused myself to the ladies room, needing to relax. Unfortunately, I couldn’t even go to the loo without any disruption.

“Why the fuck are you here with him?” John demanded to know as he followed me in.

“John! You can’t be in here!” I snapped.

“There’s no other women here yet! Answer me.”

“He’s a new colleague, someone Tommy told me to look after today. Not to mention he’s your cousin. I was being nice to him.”

“You say you still love me yet here you are with another man.” the rage in his eyes was growing more intense by the second.

“Oh for fucks sake John.” I rolled my eyes.“Why on Earth why I be so stupid to move on with another Shelby?”

“The fuck are you saying?”

“I’ve been battling with myself whether to leave this job because of you! It was terrible enough to be in the same room as you and your wife, but trying to avoid you all day is exhausting. You have to stop trying to make us work.”

His breathing was getting faster, and he hastily grabbed my hands.“But why can’t we just hide it? Maybe after a while I’ll be able to divorce her.”

“I can’t sit around and wait for you! I’ll always love you John, but you can’t expect me to not go on living my life whilst I wait for something that may never happen. And you’re telling me that in that time, you won’t have sex with her, you won’t give her the children she wants? Because I’m not fucking you behind her back.”

He groaned, pulling away from me and turning around, suddenly hitting a stall door, causing me to flinch at the movement and sound. Instinctively, I started backing away, scared that he might flip and accidentally hurt me in his rage.

“It’s not fucking fair!” he yelled.

“John, calm down!” I said, trying not to shout back, needing him to be calm.

“Why was I the one that had to get married?! Why wasn’t it Arthur or even Finn? They know we’re in love! I wanted you to be my fucking wife! And now you’re not even fighting for us!”

I scowled at him, screaming just as loud at him now.“How dare you?! John, there is nothing to fight for anymore! Yes, we still love each other, and I would give anything to be with you again! I would kill for you, you know that. But we need to move on from this. I’m staying at work for now, just until I’ve got enough to move somewhere else, and then I’m gone. I’m not staying where I got my heart broken.”

“You can’t leave.”

“I will. This feels like someone is punishing me for something terrible that I’ve done, but for the life of me I can not think what that could be. I’m done with this John. I don’t want to wake up every morning dreading to go to the shop, being distracted from my work because I’m dreading that you’ll corner me and we’ll get caught doing something we shouldn’t be. I feel like I’ve aged since the day you married, just from the stress.”

“(Y/N), please, just give it more time, we can work something out-”

“No! John just shut the fuck up and listen to what I’m saying! Leave me alone, leave what we had in the past. You’re married now, and I don’t want to have an affair, not just because of the Lee’s but because of the moral of it all. I...I just need to go home.”

“You’re not leaving-”

He grabbed my arm forcefully, and in defence I slapped him around the face. He recoiled his hand as he went into shock, giving me a chance to escape. However, he kept calling my name as I rushed off, seeing the boys standing at the bar, obviously having heard everything. I pushed past them, bursting into the private room to grab my things before leaving the pub. The others were also telling me to come back, wondering what was wrong.

“Don’t follow me! Leave me alone!” I screeched before turning away from them.

I felt light headed as I stormed home. There was so much to take in, too much had been said in such a short amount of time. Though I knew I had spoken my truth, even if it was the hardest thing I had ever admitted. John and I couldn’t be. Perhaps it was never meant to happen, and we needed to grow up, move on from our childhood dreams of us being together. I couldn’t dwell on it, I was right when I said I couldn’t put my life on pause to wait for him, which I knew would never happen. Until I knew what I could do to move on and away from everyone, I hoped that our argument had sent a message to John, and I wouldn’t have to suffer as much as I had been. Not for much longer, I am going to be happy.

#john shelby #john shelby imagine #john shelby imagines #john shelby one shot #john shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders bbc #bbc peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fan fic #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fan fiction

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princecameronlovedacommoner · 3 years

Note

all i can think of right now is topper finding out about rafe and barry being fuck buddies and him getting all protective and rafe trying to convince him barry’s chill

Okay so this turned out pretty fluffy hehe Or at least it’s a super fluffy ending. I hope you like it and thank you for your prompt!!! :)

(Warnings: Mentions of suicidal thoughts, hospitalization, and rehab for an addiction)

A few tough topics in the characters’ pasts but I swear it’s a nice happy ending for everyone!

“Sooo, this is the new place, huh?” Topper eyed each corner of the screened in patio carefully, as if he were expecting a terrible surprise if he sat down in the wrong place.

Rafe couldn’t exactly blame him for that. He had found a few needles in the couch cushions once upon a time, before he’d moved in permanently and cleaned the place up. But Barry didn’t deal with the hardcore shit anymore and customers weren’t always lingering all over the place now that there was a legal storefront where they could pick up their weed then take it home to smoke.

“Home sweet home.” Rafe confirmed, tossing Topper a beer when he finally settled on a place to sit down. “Like what I did with the furniture out here? Now these couches match the one in the living room.”

Topper nodded with a thoughtful hum. “Sugar Daddy let you splurge a little on the remodeling?” He questioned and Rafe rolled his eyes.

“Shut up. He’s not my sugar daddy. We’re getting married.”

Topper hadn’t opened his drink yet, even as Rafe was downing his own, perched contently on the armrest next to his best friend and just looking like he was at ease with the world.

That was a look Topper had never seen on Rafe, but still, he wasn’t going to just give this guy his blessing without making him work a little first. He’d heard some troubling stories about Rafe’s knight in not so shiny armor, and he felt it was his responsibility to look out for his buddy, since Ward Cameron obviously wouldn’t.

“You look…happy?” Topper tried to sound convincing, like he actually bought the idea already that Rafe was making the right call with this guy.

“You sound surprised.” Rafe raised a brow, setting his beer aside and wiping a line of foam from his mouth. “Look, man, I know it’s not figure eight worthy or anything but it’ll grow on you.”

“Rafe.” Topper ran his hands over his face.

“It’s not the scum on the siding is it?” Rafe asked. “Barry’s uncle’s supposed to come and power wash that before the wedding.”

“No, no, the house isn’t the problem, man.” Topper met Rafe’s eyes again, gathering the courage to ask him some harder questions. “I’m worried about you being with this dude.” He confessed. “I know he sells pot in town now, but he used to be a coke dealer right?”

Rafe scrunched up his nose. “Used to be doesn’t mean he is now.” He huffed defensively. “I used to be an addict. Now I’m not. And Barry changed a lot for me…”

“Didn’t he get you addicted in the first place?”

“So fucking what?” Rafe growled, doing his best to remember the breathing techniques that were supposed to help him settle in moments of frustration and anger. “He got clean when I did.” He told Topper, fists slowly beginning to unclench at his sides. “And if it wasn’t for him, I’d still be a mess in the head. You know he was the one who finally took me to talk to somebody, right? Ward didn’t do shit besides throw a few checks to the rehab place…Barry was there for me, man. When I went in, when I got home. He really got me through everything. Even now he always keeps up with my appointments, reminds me to take my pills and all that.”

Topper felt a bit guilty now. He’d just assumed that it had been Ward who finally caved and started paying attention to Rafe’s problems.

That is what a father would do, after all. Eventually. Hopefully. But in Rafe’s case, apparently his “father” hadn’t come through. His fiancé had.

“Did he uh…Did he take you to the hospital that one night?” Topper inquired. He tried to keep the memories of that particular evening to a minimum. It scared him even now, thinking of Rafe in the worst state he’d ever been in, storming out of his house with a gun and shouting about putting himself out of his own misery. He’d claimed it would be the best thing for them all.

It wouldn’t have been and Topper knew it even then, but while his words hadn’t been enough to stop Rafe that night, this new guy’s supposedly had.

Topper called Rafe’s phone a million times after he’d left and finally the next morning he’d gotten a text back.

“Rafe’s fine. Took him to ER. They keepin him for a few days.”

Topper had this confirmed himself, hurrying to the hospital and asking after his best friend, almost sobbing and tears ready to pour down his face as he panicked to the nurse at the front desk of the psychiatric ward.

“Mr. Cameron is safe and that is all I can tell you for now.”

Normally Topper would argue for more information but the knowledge alone that Rafe was still breathing was plenty to put his mind at ease.

At least it was until Rafe disappeared for a long time after that.

Topper had gotten one phone call and this time it was Rafe himself, just after getting out of the hospital three days after the incident.

“Listen, I’m going away for a bit.” He’d told Topper. “If Dad asks, tell him I’m fine. I’ve got a um…a friend…with me. He’s gonna take me to Dallas. There’s a rehab program there that’s supposed to be good.”

Topper remembers feeling relieved and fearful at the same time, happy for his friend that he was finally getting some help but wondering who on earth he’d gotten mixed up with that was taking him all the way to Texas.

“Tell your friend to take care of you, alright, man?” He’d pleaded with Rafe. “Stay safe, bud. We’ll celebrate when you come back.”

“For sure.” Rafe hadn’t sounded very hopeful then but now, Topper saw a completely different person when he looked at his best friend.

He was happy, peaceful, finally able to live his life without fear of Ward’s tyranny…and he was getting married soon. To a guy that Topper still hadn’t met, but that had done a lot for Rafe.

When the front door to the trailer opened and shut and footsteps could be heard walking through the living room, Topper wasn’t sure whether he wanted to try to be as thankful or as intimidating as possible.

“Yo, baby!” A thickly accented voice called once the man it belonged to reached the kitchen to grab a drink for himself out of the fridge. “You home? Where’s your little friend, huh? Thought we was grabbin’ somethin’ to eat!”

“Out here!” Rafe answered, smiling even before his fiancé came to stand in the doorway of the patio.

He looked like quite a rough character, and in fact…Topper recognized him.

“You!?” He let the demand for an explanation fall straight from his dropped jaw.

“Yeah, me.” Barry snorted, setting the beer he was carrying aside and holding his arms out for Rafe. “Where’s my welcome home kisses, sweet thang. Come here and let me squeeze you a little.” He pulled Rafe into his arms and held him tight, kissing against his neck and then pressing one gentle peck to his lips. “Thought I told you not to go gettin any prettier while I was gone.” He grinned, and Rafe just looked so…in love? Topper couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Hey tone it down in front of Top, babe. Alright?” Rafe was blushing and unable to hide the fond little grin he wore once Barry sat him back down. “He’s a little squirmy about this kinda thing.”

Barry turned to look at Topper, eyes scanning the younger man up and down before he nodded his approval. “You the one that calls in to check on Country Club all the time, ain’t ya?” He asked.

Topper nodded. “He’s my best friend.” He confirmed to Barry. “Just wanna be sure he’s doing alright still.”

Barry gave Topper a friendly smile then and whacked him on the back in a brotherly manner. “You alright, man. We’ll get along just fine…Baby Cakes? You take your medicine this mornin’ after I left?” His full attention was back on Rafe, sitting back on the nearest couch and pulling his fiancé down onto his lap to hug on him.

Alright. This was good. Topper was convinced that he could be friends with Barry.

Maybe Rafe had better taste in men than he’d once thought.

#rafebarry #outer banks #rafe x barry #rafe cameron #barry outer banks #topper thornton

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quicksilverownsmysoul · 3 years

Text

Strangers

I just watched Safelight and y’all cowboy Evan Peters stole my heart. I just had to write something for him immediately because I have so many feelings for him right now. I’m busy so I could only get out this little story but I’ll try and write something longer a little later! And did I write this instead is studying for my management final? Yes I did! Do I regret it? Nope!

Word Count: 1242

You two had been stealing glances at one another all night. He was the cutest little thing you had ever seen. He would look up at you from under his shaggy bangs but the minute his eyes locked on yours he would look back down. He was sitting with a group of older women, who dotted on him as if he was their son.They would playfully joke with him and he would do the same with them.

You smiled at the interaction. You were sitting at a small table across the way. You had come with a couple of your friends but they had all ditched you to try and find someone to take home. They had begged you to come with them and you did because you assumed you guys would be dancing together, but instead you were all alone with your lukewarm beer, stealing glances at a pretty young cowboy. “He’s cute.” You jumped at the sudden voice. You spun around in your stool to see your friend Silvia who just snickered at your reaction. She had her arms wrapped around some random dude.

“Very, is he single?” Your other friend asked as she jumped back into the stool next to you.

“No idea, I haven’t seen him around here before.” You replied. Your friend Aaron came up behind you wrapping his arms around your shoulders, pressing his sweaty body into yours. “Ew Aaron!”

You pushed him off of you and he just laughed, still not taking his arm off your shoulder. “What are y’all talking ‘bout?”

“Nothing.” You said taking another sip of your beer.

“Nothing, expect (y/n)’s new boyfriend.” Your friend cooed. You grabbed a handful of the peanuts from the basket on the table and tossed them at your friend. She squealed and threw some back at you which you dodged.

“Boyfriend?” Aaron asked. “Which one is he?” You leaned closer to him that way you wouldn't have to yell over the loud noise. “See the one with the brown cowboy hat and the bluish gray checked shirt?” Aaron followed your gaze, squinting trying to make him out.

“A little wimpy lookin’ ain’t he?” You playfully smacked his chest.

“Shut up! He is not! And I think he’s cute.”

“Not as cute as me.” Aaron said leaning onto the table and stealing your beer, dipping it back and finishing it.

“You wish asshole.” You yanked the empty bottle back from him. “You owe me a new beer.” He laughed and pushed himself off the table.

He dipped his hat, winking at you. “Coming right up ma’am.” You just rolled your eyes at him and went back to watching Charles and his friends.

“Charles. Charles. Hey Charles!” He jumped as he felt something cold hit his cheek. He turned to see Peg pressing her beer to his cheek. “You zoned out on us there honey.”

“Sorry.” Peg watched him glance back down before looking up, she saw him watching you and your friends.

Her face broke out into a smile as she realized what was going on. “So that’s what’s got you so distracted.” She turned back to her group clinking on her beer to get their attention. “Ladies and ladies, our little Charles has a crush.” All the women at the table cheered and jested. He felt his face turn red.

“No I don’t.”

“I think you do.”

“Which one is she Peg?” One of her friends asked as they turned to look at your table.

“The pretty one over there that that sweaty boy has his hands all over.”

They all turned back to face Charles. “Oh she is cute! You should ask her to dance.”

“I can’t dance.” Charles said bluntly. “Plus I’m pretty sure she’s with that guy.”

“Nah.” Peg said, Charles turned to look at her.

“How are you so sure?”

“Trust us honey, we know these things.” One of her friends answered. “He’s not her type, he’s the bottom of the barrel like all the rest of the men we ended up with.”

“Ain’t that the truth!” Peg laughed out. Charles laughed with them as they all took a swig of beer, a toast to all the horrible men they had ended up with.

A new song started up and Peg jumped to her feet, rolling back her sleeves. “It’s dancing time ladies. And I believe it is my turn to be the man.” She held her arm out to one of her friends and she took it, they left for the dance floor, leaving Charels sitting alone at the table. You watched the women he was with and headed towards the dance floor. Your friends had all left as well, dragging Aaron and the boys they had found to slow dance with them. You watched him bob his head to the music as you did the same. You took one last sip of your drink and hopped off your bar stool making your way towards him.

Charles watched you come closer to him, mouth opened slightly in shock. “Hey. I’m (y/n).”

He felt himself gulp in seeing you up close, you were even prettier than he had imagined. “Hey. I’m-” You let out a little giggle as he struggled to get his name out. “I’m Charles.”

“Nice to meet your acquaintance Charles. Would you like to dance?”

“Me?”

“Yes you.” You giggled out.

“I can’t dance.” He admitted glancing down at his leg.

“Everyone can dance.” You took his cowboy hat off his head and placed it on your own. “What do you say cowboy, wanna dance with this cowgirl?” You reached your hand out towards him and after a moment he took it with a small smile. He let you lead him through the crowd, not once did you say anything about his bad leg. You made your way to the middle, and stopped wrapping your arms around his neck. He hesitantly placed his hands on your waist. You guy swayed back and forth with one another, moving in time with the slow song. You let your eyes close and relax in his arms. He watched as you mouthed along to the song, you looked up at him through your lashes and he blushed knowing you caught him staring. He lifted his hand up and you took it in your own, he spun you around as you laughed stumbling back into him.

You both watched each other with curious eyes, smiling at one another in the low lighting. You took his hat off and placed it back on his head, pulling it back slightly and brushing his curls from his face so you could look clearly into his eyes. Letting your hands slide down to cup his face. He smiled nervously, dimples showing. You ran your thumbs along his dimples for a second before slowly leaning in. You pressed your lips to his, his lips moved with yours. His lips were soft and sweet, you felt him pull you closer silently asking to prolong the kiss. You did before pulling away with a smile, face turning red as you watched him look at you with his beautiful dark eyes. You let an embarrassed laugh, wrapping your arms back around his neck and burying your face in the crook of his neck.

Charles smiled widely, letting out a laugh of his own, you joined him, continuing to sway as you giggled with one another. Both amused with the fact that you had both kissed a total stranger.

This one is for my fellow southerns who seem to love cowboy evan peters as much as I do! @no-mercy-bby @thatspookyagent

#safelight movie #safelight Evan peters #Charles x reader #Charles safelight #evan peters #evan peters x reader #evan peters fanfiction #Evan peters x y/n #safelight movie Charles

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wandas-sunshine · 4 years

Text

Every Little Thing (Kinktober Day 5)

Kinktober Schedule

Prompt: Corruption, Thigh Riding

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,7000

Warnings: SMUT 18+, corruption kink/innocence kink, thigh riding, unprotected sex, fingering, Bucky is a cocky little shit

A/N: This kinda got away from me...sorry about that. And sorry if I fall behind schedule because this took me three days haha. TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN

You were perfect, and pure, and everything Bucky never expected to get his hands on. But from the very beginning, you had gravitated towards him. Towards his strength, his kindness, and of course the way he wasn’t like most other men you were used to.

You were in your mid twenties, but the innocence you cloaked yourself in didn’t show it. You didn’t drink, didn’t smoke, you never cussed, and you flustered at the mere mention of sex so much that Bucky wondered if you’d ever slept with anyone, if you’d ever even touched yourself.

It wasn’t something he should be thinking about, it was filthy and you were so much the opposite. But no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t help himself. You’d show up in your pink pleated skirt, and your white ruffled top and matching little socks, and he couldn’t control it. You were adorable, untainted, and the thought of ruining you never failed to make Bucky rock hard.

It was never attainable, he knew that. It was just a desperate fantasy that took over whenever he’d see you squirm, or blush when the others teased you. He did what he could to keep it locked away, no use getting teased by the team for his sick fantasies.

But one day, everything changed, for the better in Bucky’s humble opinion.

See, you’d always trusted Bucky most. He didn’t laugh at you or tug your pigtails, and he made you feel safe, even despite his past.So it seemed like the obvious answer to knock on his door with the humiliating question that had been swirling through your head for hours.

You smoothed your hair and straightened the baby blue skirt you had on before knocking. There was a moment before the door opened.

“(Y/N)?” Bucky questioned. You didn’t look up, keeping your hands folded neatly in front of you.

“How do you know when a girl has an orgasm?” You asked. The question rushed out all in one breath, and you could swear you heard Bucky choke on air. It rendered him speechless. He spluttered.

“I...what?” He looked down at you, noticing the way you refused to meet his eye, the way you fiddled with your hands.

“I mean, you’ve been with women before, right? And...well, I assume you’re good at it.” You risked looking up, but catching sight of his surprised smirk, you looked back down quickly. “And Nat asked when the last time was that I had...you know.”

Bucky bit back a chuckle and ignored the way his cock was stirring in his pants. You had come to him, of all the people in the world, and now you could hardly get your words out.

“The last time you came?” He asked, his arms crossing over his chest as he eyed you closer. You nodded.

“And I’m just not exactly...I don’t know if I ever really...did that.” You rambled. Your lower belly tightened as you lifted your gaze to meet his. His blue eyes were dark, and he was looking at you differently than he ever had.

“Do you want to come in?” He stepped back to allow you inside. You mumbled a quiet thanks and let him close the door behind you. It wasn’t the first time you’d been in his room, but this time certainly felt different.

Bucky stepped closer, and you found yourself backing up into the door. He laughed, the sound of it dark, and rich, and fogging up your mind. You squeezed your thighs together.

“Have you ever slept with anyone?” He asked, reaching out to touch the ribbons tied around your braids. Adorable.

“No…” You confessed. Your eyes lowered to your hands, picking at your pastel nail polish. He tipped your head back up with a finger beneath your chin.

“Do you want to?” You didn't answer. He pressed in closer, squeezing out what personal space you’d had left. You shivered. Had he always been so much bigger than you? “I can make sure you cum. Over, and over, and over. I’ll make you feel so good,”

His hands moved down to grip your hips, and his mouth latched onto your neck. You let out a startled gasp as he sucked at the spot beneath your ear. Was that supposed to feel so good?

He continued leaving small marks against your skin, just imagining how sexy a few hickeys would look peeking out of one of your pretty little sweaters. You whimpered when he bit down at the apex of your shoulder, and Bucky had to stop himself from creaming his pants like a teenager.

He tipped your head up to ghost his lips against yours. He could feel every shaky breath you took. Then, he was pressing his lips to yours, firm and slow. Your hands clutched at his henley as you tried to keep up with the kiss. You didn’t have much experience after all.

Finally he pulled away and looked over you, flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips. He kept his hands on you, gently guiding you back with him. He sat at the edge of the bed, and guided you to sit on his lap. Your mind was still racing to catch up with what exactly was happening. You wiggled to settle yourself on his thighs, your skirt riding up around your hips. His hands smoothed over your thighs, squeezing them and earning another heavenly sigh from your lips.

“Can you take your shirt off for me, doll?” He asked sweetly. You hesitated, but his thumbs rubbed soothing circles into your skin, and you trusted him more than anyone else. You pulled your shirt off and dropped it onto the floor with his. He groaned and moved his hands up to caress your bare sides. Then his hands reached back to unclip your bra. There was a panicked moment as you clutched the material to your chest.

“It’s okay. It’s just me.” He reminded you, slowly pulling your hands away to let it fall entirely.

His hands immediately moved to your breasts, cupping them and tweaking your nipples. You whimpered, and Bucky smirked. He did it again, and you squirmed in his lap.

“Such a pretty body. So fucking innocent.” He praised. You whined and your entire body went hot.

His hands landed against your back, holding you secure as he tipped you back and leaned to take one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucked, just to hear your startled cry. His teeth grazed over the sensitive peak before he pulled his mouth off with a pop to give the other side the same treatment.

“Buck,” You gasped, hands flying to his hair. He’d never heard his name sound prettier on a girl’s lips. “Please.”

“Please what, baby?” He cooed, sitting up to meet your eye. You wiggled, pressing your barely covered core against his obvious bulge. “You want me to make you cum, is that what you want?”

You nodded and hummed a soft agreement.

“Gotta prove you’re ready for my cock, can you do that for me?” He shifted you easily, moving you so you were seated straddling just one of his legs.

He brushed his knuckles over your cheek, and you closed your eyes, just soaking in that smooth Brooklyn accent.

“How?” You looked up at him again with those eyes that made him want to fuck you senseless.

“Gonna ride my thigh.” He answered. Your eyebrows furrowed and you bit your lip, not wanting to ask what exactly he meant. But Bucky could see right through you, just like always. “You’re gonna grind that pretty little pussy on my leg until you cum. And maybe then I’ll fuck you.”

You shivered at the filthy words, but you nodded. His hands steadied your hips, and you clung to his shoulders as you rolled your hips against him.

You gasped a small ‘oh’ at the feeling before rolling them down into him again, this time harder. You bit your lip, feeling wetness seep from your core as your squirmed over his leg. Every time you’d catch your clit just right, you’d gasp, or whine ever so softly. Bucky could feel the wet spot forming on his jeans. His hands pressed you even more firmly against the pure muscle of his thigh as he lifted it to meet the movement of your hips.

The pretty little noises you made were growing increasingly desperate, and you buried your face in his neck. Your stomach was growing tight, warmth radiating through you and pleasure rolling over you in waves.

“Bucky, I-” You whimpered as Bucky guided you harder, faster until you were trembling. He praised you quietly as he bounced his leg. And just like that, you felt pleasure like you never had, a blazing heat that sparked in your core and seared through you. Your nails scratched at his arms, and your hips bucked uncontrollably.

“There you go. Good girl, ride it out.” You clung to him, and he held you steady. You hid your face in his neck, trying to catch your breath. He kissed the side of your head and pulled you closer.

“Bucky?” Was that...was that an orgasm?” He stroked his hand up your side with a chuckle.

“Yeah, princess, that was an orgasm.”

“I like that a lot.”

“Yeah? Do you want another one?” He asked. You hesitated before nodding.

“Greedy little doll. I like that.” He moved you so you were laying back on his bed. He slipped your skirt off your legs, then he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties. You lifted your hips to let him pull them down. He pushed your legs open, taking a moment just to admire you.

“I’ve gotta get you ready before you can take me. Gonna get you nice and stretched open.” He tapped his fingers to your lips. “Can you suck on them for me?”

You opened your mouth, taking three of his fingers into your mouth, and Bucky moaned aloud. You just looked so precious sucking on his fingers. He pressed them against your tongue, sliding them in and out of your mouth slowly until he was satisfied.

He sat back, running his spit-covered fingers in slow circles over your clit. You squeaked and your hand flew to cover your mouth. Bucky’s fingers didn’t stop, but his other hand pulled yours away from your lips.

“I want to hear how good it feels, don’t be quiet with me.” He moved his fingers lower, teasing them through your wetness.

You nodded a tiny bit as he pressed one finger into you. You let out another pathetic whimper at the way your tummy fluttered when he started to fuck you with it, nice and slow.

His finger curled and quirked inside you. He was coaxing the prettiest little sounds from your lips, and he never wanted to stop. He worked a second finger in, scissoring you open and watching your hips rock into his hand.

“Bucky,” You cried, gripping his wrist when his fingertips brushed against a particular spot. Bucky curled his fingers and tested the spot again, listening to you keen.

“I think I found your special spot.” He looked up at you, and your hips wiggled. He picked up his pace again, even managing to add a third finger.

He could feel your walls fluttering around his fingers, and your simply angelic noises were melting into incoherent pleas. He flicked his thumb back and forth over your clit, pushing you steadily into a second orgasm. He held your hips to the bed and fingered you through the bliss.

Once you had properly come down, he stood up and stripped the rest of his clothes off. Your eyes lingered on his size. You’d never seen a man’s cock before, not in real life, but you were positive that he was bigger than average. You wondered if it was thanks to the serum.

Slowly, fear began to seep through the heavenly haze. He was big, bigger than your fingers, and bigger than the fingers he’d just stretched you open with. He was going to split you in half.

“You in there, doll?” He slid onto the bed, settling part way over you, and kissing his way up your body. Your hips, your stomach, the swell of your breasts. “Relax, I’ve got you. Gonna take such good care of you.”

You nodded a little, and Bucky kissed your lips again, deep and slow until your chest ached from the breathlessness. When he pulled away, his hand ran down your side.

“You’ll want to be on top. It’ll be more comfortable.” He promised you. He didn’t mention how sexy it would be to watch you ride him. You nodded, and he easily rolled the two of you. You could feel his hardness against your thigh.

“Do you want my cock?” He reached up, hands running soothing strokes against your thighs. You squirmed, jumping when your clit rubbed against his shaft. “Tell me.”

You bit your lip and rolled your hips against his. He groaned and gripped your thighs tighter, surely leaving pretty bruises in his wake.

“Come on baby, tell me what you want.”

“I want you,” You hugged. “I want to feel you inside,”

And that request from your precious lips wasn’t something that Bucky could even humor denying. He gently lined himself up with your entrance, letting the head swipe through your wetness. He pressed in, and you winced at the pressure.

“Now just lower yourself down, nice and slow. You can stop if you want to.” He reminded you, his hands wandering anywhere and everywhere they could reach.

You braced your hands against his chest, and tried not to fluster at how firm he was under your touch. You were having sex with him for God’s sake. So you closed your eyes and started to sink onto his considerable length. You let out a shaky breath, your hands curling into fists. It burned, and he was filling you more than you had ever felt before.

You whimpered as he pressed deeper and deeper. Finally, you setted, your hips flush against his. Your eyebrows were knit tight, and your thighs trembled.

Bucky shushed you gently, brushing some loose strands of hair from your face and reminding you of how well you were doing. And of course he wanted to fuck you into oblivion, and you may well have been the tightest pussy he’d ever taken, but he didn’t like the look of discomfort on your face. His thumb found your clit, rubbing slow circles to ease the pain.

And finally the pain gave way to a spreading warmth. You rolled your hips experimentally and squeaked at the new feeling. So slowly you lifted your hips, then lowered yourself back down. Bucky hummed his satisfaction, and you moaned at the unfamiliar tightening in your stomach.

Slowly but surely he helped you build a proper rhythm. You’d given up being quiet, instead opting to tell Bucky exactly how you felt.

“It’s so big,” Your head fell forward as he rolled his hips up to meet yours. You gasped and whined desperately.

“How’s it feel taking my cock, huh doll?” He smirked and you whimpered even louder; his filthy, demented dream come true.

He guided one of your hands down to your clit, looking up to meet your eye.

“Go on and play with yourself. Want to watch you cum around me.” You did your best to keep your hips moving, rubbing circles on the overworked nerves just like he had. It felt like a mere breath before you came, shaking and crying out as he bucked into you to help you properly ride out the ecstasy.

It only took a little more, a couple more thrusts while you whimpered above him, and he was spilling his load right into you.

He helped you off of him, and you hissed at the sensitivity. He settled you in beside him, and you curled in on yourself. You looked so stunning, all messy and fucked out. And he still had so much to teach you. He’d show you every little thing you needed to know.

Tag List: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @vozit // @realgaytrash // @i-love-books-so-fricking-much // @nikkiofasgard // @duvetsandpillows

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baekhansol · 3 years

Text

beauty (k.ys)

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : college au (kinda?), slice of life?, comfort

𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 : mature

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : boudoir photographer! yeosang x plus size/curvy f!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 3260 words

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : body insecurities, plus size/curvy reader, nudity in a non-sexual way

𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭 : yeosang helps show you your own beauty

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : despite the images, y/n’s skin color is not mentioned. I used these images mostly for the poses as a visual for you all! this was beta read by the lovely @sugasbabiie and part of @yutasgalaxy's Flashing Lights collab.

When your best friend suggested you do a boudoir photoshoot with your acquaintance Yeosang as the photographer, your initial answer was no. After a week of you feeling really down about your body image, she brought it up again, and eventually gave in. Yeosang told you he likes to meet his clients and get to know them before photographing them, so you met him for coffee.

You knew it wasn’t a date, but you couldn’t help feeling giddy about it. You had a crush on him for a while, but never had an excuse to get close to him. He’s so handsome, and you were about to let him see you in lingerie? The thought made you nervous. But before you could back out, Yeosang sits across from you with a warm smile, a coffee in hand.

“Are you okay?” he asks gently, noticing how you were staring into your cup of coffee. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, you know. It’s about making you comfortable,” Yeosang softly reassures you. “I know this was your friend’s idea,” he adds gently.

“I’m just… nervous, is all. I know you’re good at what you do… I’ve talked to some of your clients before… but I just… they’re always skinnier than me and prettier,” you admit, tightening your grip on your mug.

Yeosang lets out a soft laugh and pulls a folder out of his bag. “I’ve worked with men and women of all body shapes, Y/N,” he begins, opening the folder and sliding it across the table to you. “I brought my portfolio for you to look at, and everyone in there gave me consent to share these photos, of course.”

You begin looking through the photos, thankful you were in a reclusive corner of the cafe as you do so. They weren’t erotic, but sensual. You knew the images captured the beauty of each individual. They were breathtaking, and you wanted to be one of them.

“Yeosang, you’re really good at this,” you admit, continuing to flip through the photographs.

“Thank you, I try to be,” he says, smiling.

You set the date for your photoshoot, and the day came within a blink of an eye. You had met with Yeosang a few other times after the initial meeting, as he wanted you to be more comfortable with being around him. He gave you plenty of time to go over the client agreement, and you respected how thorough the document was.

Yeosang had instructed you very clearly on what to take out to wear and how to do your makeup. So, you set out your favorite pieces of lingerie, a matching set and a bodysuit, the oversized button-down he chose, and a simple mini dress. You put on foundation and did your eyebrows, but nothing else, as Yeosang requested.

When you hear a knock on the door, you pull your bathrobe around you tighter and peer through the peephole before letting Yeosang in. It was unfair how good he looked, and you tried to force the thought into the back of your mind. He had a few boxes of what you presume to be his equipment with him, and you hope he didn’t have to struggle too much to get to your apartment. You quickly open the door, letting him inside and getting out of his way.

“Hey! Are you excited?” He asks, smiling brightly as he brings his things inside.

“I’m still nervous,” you admit, shaking your head.

“Well, don’t be. I’m here, and it’ll be fun! I promise,” he says, taking in your appearance. “I’m glad you did as I asked; that will make things easier! Now, where is your bathroom?”

You quickly show him around, and he makes himself at home. He plugs in a curling iron and goes through your makeup, glancing at the lingerie you chose and the colors he should use.

“Sit on the countertop and close your eyes,” he requests.

“Okay?” you reply, sounding more hesitant than you meant.

“I’m going to do your makeup. Do you trust me?” he asks, looking into your eyes. You merely nod, trusting him and his craft.

Yeosang’s touch on your face is gentle and calming. You feel him sweeping on eyeshadow, and he soon turns on soothing lofi music as he works. You know he is blending the eyeshadow as he takes his time, and you do your best to keep your eyes close.

“Open your eyes and look up for me,” he softly requests.

You open them, meeting his intense gaze. His lips purse in concentration, and you quickly look up at the ceiling. He sweeps eyeshadow under your eyes, blending it gently.

“Do you normally heat your eyelash curler?” Yeosang asks, causing you to look back down at him.

“It depends on the day,” you admit, watching him plug in your hair dryer and heat the curler. “And how much time I have to get ready,” you add with a slight giggle.

He tests the warmth on his hand, and you close your eyes before he could ask. Yeosang curls your eyelashes, gently setting the tool down on the sink before he applies your eyeliner. You feel the pads of his fingers brushing your eyelids before he has you open his eyes for him to put on your mascara.

He smiles at you, the masterpiece he was accentuating. “Have you ever seen a video where they clean an old piece of artwork?” Yeosang softly asks, beginning to contour your face.

“Yes, I have,” you say, doing your best to stay still.

“Well, that’s what I’m doing with you,” Yeosang explains, putting blush on your cheeks and dusting your nose with it. “You already are a beautiful piece of art, and sometimes you need a new view to see its beauty,” He tells you, picking out what happened to be your favorite shade of lipstick.

You feel yourself blushing, and you glance away, unable to meet his eyes. “You think so?” you ask him quietly, your heart thumping.

“I know so,” he answers, carefully applying your lipstick. You smack your lips together, and he smiles brightly.

“I just have to curl your hair, so you can get off now and take a peek,” he says, stepping out of your way as you jump off the countertop.

You turn to see yourself in the mirror, and are awestruck. You were expecting something less modest, but Yeosang almost perfectly captured how you normally did your makeup. He did it simply but beautifully, and you couldn’t help but gape at yourself.

As you stare, you feel him taking your brush and brushing out your hair.

“Yeosang,” you murmur, meeting his eyes.

“Hmm?” he hums, raising an eyebrow as he begins to curl your hair/

“Can you do my makeup more often?” you giggle playfully.

He laughs, and you love the sound.

“Maybe,” he says mischievously, careful not to burn your hair.

You allow him to do your hair, watching him work his magic.

“There,” he cheers, adjusting your hair before giving it a light coat of hairspray. “Done,” he proudly concludes.

“Yeosang, are you sure you’re not a makeup artist instead of a photographer?” you tease.

“I’m pretty positive, Y/N,” he laughs, turning off and unplugging the curling iron.

“So I was thinking of a few different poses, and I brought some ideas with me,” He tells you, pulling out the photos. “I figured we could do a few nude ones with you under your comforter or sheets, so I won't see anything first?” he suggests, showing you the guides.

“So I basically just hold the comforter up like this?” you inquire, getting on your bed and pulling at your comforter, facing the wall as if you didn’t have your robe on.

“Yes, and then you’ll sit up more to curve your back, like,” he pauses, finding the photograph he wants before showing it to you, “this.”

You feel insecure despite his calm demeanor, and you shake your head. “I don’t want to do any nude,” you say, your voice soft.

“That’s okay then. Instead, why don’t you change into your lingerie and put the button down over it?” He suggests instead, going to grab his equipment.

You nod, your hands shaking slightly as you pick up the lingerie and button down from its place on the bed. You head into the bathroom, shutting the door as you slip into it. Your insecurities try to get you to stop and cancel the photoshoot, but you knew at the same time you would be disappointed with yourself. Instead, you button the shirt completely before coming back out of the bathroom.

Yeosang glances over at you and smiles as he finishes adjusting the lights. He turns them off and guides you towards your window, which he had thrown sheer white shades over.

“I want you to stand in front of the window like you are stretching with your arms up. Lean forward and slightly to the side,” Yeosang instructs you.

You nod and stand in front of it, letting yourself actually stretch out your spine. You lean to one side, letting your body curve more.

“Perfect, you’re a natural,” Yeosang says, and you feel your cheeks heating up again as you hear the fluttering of the camera.

“Now I’m going to have you pose on your desk chair, if that’s okay to bring it over here?” he asks.

When you agree, he easily picks it up and sets it in front of the window, his biceps flexing.

“Just sit on it as you normally would, okay?” He says, and you sit up straight. “Is it okay if I unbutton and adjust the shirt a little?” Yeosang inquires.

“Sure,” you reply, glancing up at him shyly.

He unbuttons the shirt down to below your bra, exposing the floral lace. You feel your cheeks heat up, but he adjusts the shirt to pull down onto your arms, exposing your shoulders and offering a delightful view of your cleavage and bra straps. You look down at yourself, and feel sexy from the simplicity of the new neckline.

He steps away and snaps a few photos, and you start to feel more confident in yourself.

“Now, turn sideways when you sit on the chair. I’m going to have you pose, but will you be comfortable with taking off your shirt?” Yeosang asks, stepping back towards you.

You figure that it would be a sideways view, so you nod and unbutton it, tossing it across the room to be out of the way.

“Carefully lay on your back. Can you balance on it okay?”

“Yeah, it’s not too bad,” you laugh, carefully adjusting yourself.

“Slowly lift your legs up as you lean backwards, so your head will be lowered.”

You slowly do as he says, feeling your abdominal muscles tightening to keep you balanced on the chair.

“Curve your legs with one straighter than the other,” he directs you, gently tugging your hair out from under you. “Now hold your hair slightly to show more of your torso.”

“Like this?”

“Yes. Don’t move.”

The command in his voice stirred something inside you, but you do your best to ignore it. You were Yeosang’s client, and in the agreement, there were no sexual relations with him. You hear the snapping of the camera again, and see Yeosang moving to different positions to get multiple angles.

“I have a few more poses I would like you to try, okay, Y/N?” he says, and you merely nod. “You can stand up, since this one is also in the chair,” he tells you.

You carefully roll out of the chair as he explains, “I want you to climb onto the chair and be sexy about it, okay? Leaving a leg straight out with one in as you face me?”

You nod as he turns the chair sideways before carefully doing as he asks. You reposition your legs and body, and he opts to take pictures of each change.

“Are they coming out okay?” you timidly ask as he puts his camera down.

“I think so. Do you want to see?” he asks, showing you his camera and flicking through a few of what he has taken.

You look sexy, and it surprises you. “Whoa,” you murmur in shock. .

“Of course it is,” he giggles, smiling brightly. “Now, how about you change into that bodysuit?” he suggests, pointing to it.

“Sure!” you say, picking it up and going into the bathroom.

You do your best to change quickly, and you hear him moving around in your bedroom, presumably setting things up.

When you take off your underwear, you're embarrassed to find a small wet spot. You hadn’t thought your crush on Yeosang would do this to you now of all times. You groan slightly and make sure to throw them in the hamper as you slide into your bodysuit.

You come out shyly, and see a soft sheet on the floor with the lights around it.

“I think you’ve seen this pose a few times before. It’s where you lay on your back with your legs up on the wall?” Yeosang says, tilting his head.

“Yes, I have! I really like that one,” you admit, carefully sitting on the floor and resting your legs up against the wall.

Yeosang nods and continues, “Do you want to wear heels? I know some people do, but it isn’t always comfortable for everyone.”

You look up at him through your lashes and shake your head.

“That’s fine then,” he says with a smile, bending down and adjusting your hair around you.

He moves one of the lights ever so slightly before snapping more photographs. “You’re doing really well,” he praises you.

You sit back up as he goes to get something out of his bag and ask, “Yeosang, do you ever get aroused while taking these photos?”

You can’t see him freeze, but he does. “Do I what now?” he questions, pulling out some fabric and looking at you.

“Do you ever get aroused when taking photos…?” you repeat.

Yeosang sits on your bed, holding the fabric in his lap. “Normally, I don’t,” he admits. “Every now and then, yes.”

You nod, playing with the sheet underneath you.

Yeosang quickly changes the topic back to what you were doing, and you don’t notice him snap a few more pictures. “I know how you said you didn’t really like showing your arms, so I brought you this sweater,” he tells you, showing you the soft ivory sweater. “It was oversized on me, so it should be about the same for you,” Yeosang adds, gently setting it on the bed as he helps you stand back up.

You sit on the bed and carefully put it on with his help, avoiding smudging your makeup. It was cozy and soft, not too itchy. You pull your hair out of the neck of the sweater, and you hear Yeosang snap a few photos.

“The final prop I have are these,” he says, reaching into his bag and pulling out fairy lights.

“Oh?” you ask, tilting your head as he plugs them in.

“I’ve never done it before, and I’ve always wanted to play with the lighting on them,” Yeosang admits. “And if they don’t turn out well, well, at least we can say we tried,” he says with a laugh.

“What am I supposed to do with them?” you ask, smiling brightly. You were excited that he wanted to try something new with you.

“Just kind of… wrap them around you and play with them,” he suggests, picking his camera back up.

You nod and do as he says, laying down in one of the positions you had seen in his portfolio. You lay on your back with your legs bent, and you look up at Yeosang as your head bends off the end of the bed.

“Ohh, very nice,” he says, clicking away. “Now, try on your stomach with your legs up and ankles crossed,” Yeosang suggests.

As you move into position, Yeosang gently moves the lights around you so you wouldn’t be too restricted.

“Rest your head on your arms, but keep one out and face me,” he instructs, and you do just that. Yeosang gently fixes your hair, his fingers combing through it.

“Perfect, just like that,” he says, snapping more photos of you.

He set his camera back down, a bright smile on his face. “Okay, I think I’m done!” he says. “I should be able to get them back to you in two to three weeks.”

You nod and begin untangling yourself from the lights, and Yeosang quickly helps.

“You did really well, you know,” he assures you, smiling.

“Thank you, Yeosang,” you say, hesitating before hugging him.

Yeosang took longer packing up, but you didn’t mind. You begin to take off his sweater, but he stops you. “Y/N, please, keep it,” he begins.

“Yeosang, I can’t-”

“Please. It suits you,” he insists, his pleading look making you give in.

You purse your lips and instead slide on a pair of shorts before cleaning up your bathroom.

After he left, you laid on your bed, staring at the ceiling in disbelief. You really did just do a boudoir photoshoot with a male photographer.

Two weeks went by, then three. After the fourth week, you were beginning to worry that the photos didn’t turn out well.

When the fifth week came and went, Yeosang finally messaged you.

Yeosang: Do you think you can come over sometime this week?

You: yeah, when works for you? I’m free most of tomorrow

Yeosang: Can you come tomorrow around 8?

You: sounds good

Yeosang: see you then!

After running into traffic, you managed to navigate Yeosang’s apartment complex and find his apartment number. You adjust yourself before knocking on the door.

“It’s Y/N,” you call.

Yeosang answers it with a worried look. “Hey, are you okay? You were late,” he mentions, knowing it wasn’t like you to be this late.

“Yeah, sorry… I ran into traffic,” you explain, not meeting his eyes as he lets you in.

Yeosang nods, leading you into his studio. He ushers you to your computer, but you’re awed by the photographs adorning the walls. You recognize some as the samples, but some almost looked like yours.

“I’ve been doing my best, but I can’t seem to get them to my liking. Some of it is a matter of filters, and I can’t choose which looks best. You really are a natural,” he tells you, pulling up your file.

You were shocked by the results. You could barely believe that they were supposed to be images of you.

“Yeosang, I-” you gasp, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Yours are by far the best I’ve done so far,” he murmurs, clicking through the countless photos, some of which you didn’t know he captured.

“Yeosang, I have to ask…” you shyly murmur, your cheeks heating up. “Why did it take so long?”

This time his cheeks and ears slowly turned red. “You looked better than I thought in my sweater,” he murmurs. Noticing your furrowed brows, he continues softly, “I really liked you, even before doing these for you. It was a nice excuse to get to know you better. I know it's bad to ask former clients on dates, but…”

The question lingers for a moment, and his expression slowly turns into one of disappointment from rejection.

“Yeosang, I’d love to,” you breathlessly admit.

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