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poeticblissme · 4 years

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Open up

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Mild angst, Smut

Prompt: After months of dating, you finally tell Yoongi exactly what he means to you.

Word Count: 4,781

Warnings: Mentions of depression, fingering, cl*t licking,

A/N: I have been home for a while, and my responsibilities can finally take a break. I can write again, free of all this stress and let me say it feels so good. I hope you all like this, I have not written in so long so it may be a bit rusty around the edges.

Feedback appreciated.

It truly was interesting, the aspect of having someone to confide in when things are too tough for one to handle. No matter what the circumstance, you tried to be that person for all those who were close to you. You were their shoulder to cry on, the one they came to for advice on any and every situation, good or bad. You were the one who everyone trusted to make them feel better when they felt like nothing, or when they just simply needed a friend.

Maybe it was the fact in your own life you never really had that type of support system. Though you were well provided for physically, with a welcoming home, a good paying job, and pleasant memories of friends and family, it did not change the fact that when it came to your emotional well being, you were just not as provided for. Whenever you tried to confide in anyone, they seemed to either blow off your concerns, not really receive what you were trying to convey, or not care about what you felt at all. It seemed as if, no matter how much you were there for others, there was little to no care for your own well being.

It was not that you were bitter about it, or that you were expecting everyone to return the favor for you being there for them, that was not the point of your kindness at all. It was more of a personal wish to have someone understand that even though you will happily make anyone see the light in their dark situation, you were a human being who had problems too, even when you don’t physically show that there was anything wrong.

You truly felt it was a wasted effort, but not because of anyone else. Truthfully, you knew deep down that it was your own fault. You were an introvert, and unfortunately for you, the guilt you felt when even thinking of your own issues made it close to impossible for you to open up to anyone without feeling unworthy, or wrong for sharing what made you feel so rotten, if you could even pinpoint why you were feeling so down.

These constant thoughts of inadequacy and unworthiness were the very reason you had so much trouble opening up to your newest boyfriend, who was only the second one you have ever had. The first did not work out, because, well to put it plainly, he was too clingy. You valued your individuality, and being around people too much was very draining, it was nothing personal, and you did like him, but he wanted to much from you that you could not give him. You were not ready to just give yourself to someone so fully and drastically, and to stay with him to sort out your own personal grievances, all the while not giving him his own emotional needs was is no way fair to him. So, with a heavy heart, and a guilty mind, you let him go.

When Min Yoongi first appeared in your life is was completely by accident. He had been going to walk out the door of the cafe you were in, most likely going to his morning job, when someone bumped into him, sending him backwards toward your table. The coffee he had in his hand slipped and spilled, marking your paperwork that you had spent countless hours perfecting in large dark brown splatter patterns along ever inch of the printed paper.

“You have got to be joking!” You screeched, your hands going to your hair in shock.

You eyed your work in disbelief, there was no way you could turn this into your boss now, this was no simple stain on the edge of the paper. No, the brown liquid basically covered each page through and through! This meant you would have to retype everything, every single detail you had foolishly deleted from your saved files on your laptop because you did not want any clutter.

“Oh shit, I am so so sorry miss,.” Came a voice from beside you. It was deep, husky even. The first thought that came to your mind was how if whoever it was speaking to you had his own radio show, the ears of whoever chose to listen were in for quite the treat.

You looked up, a small sigh leaving your lips as you finally gave yourself a chance to breathe. Your eyes focused as you finally had a face to match the mystical voice that rang through your ears. The gentleman was average height, at least to you. He had short blonde hair, the edges covering his forehead completely, and his eyes only slightly. His skin was a delicate creamy color, carefully accentuating the brown of his delicate eyes. He wore a long black overcoat, followed by a black turtleneck, which was proper for the current cold that graced the town, along with dark blue jeans, which were held up by a tight freshly bought black belt.

“No, no don’t worry.” You started, forcing yourself back to reality. Had you been staring to long? You reached to the side of the table, grabbing the few loose napkins that remained from your breakfast to begin wiping up the spill. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Those papers looked pretty important, considering how hard you were starring at them.” He noted, his brows creasing in concern. He handed you a couple napkins, all the while behind down and helping you wipe the last of the coffee from the table top.

He was watching you? Well, you shouldn’t be shocked. It is common for others to people watch while waiting for their order. Or maybe he was talking about when you helplessly watch as the large quantity of coffee spilled all over your precious papers. “They are just papers for my job, I have a thesis to give to my boss in the next couple days.”

“How long have you been working on this?” He asked, taking the napkins off the table and disposing them in the nearby garbage can.

“A couple you weeks.” you admitted with a sigh, looking down at the drenched papers. If you thought about it, maybe this was karma, you would not put it past the magic of the universe to come back and bite you for something, it seemed to do that more often than not these days. “I was almost finished with it, but I’ll have to retype everything now.”

“I really am so sorry about this.” He spoke sitting in the chair across from your own. “Someone bumped into me and I lost balance-”

“Really, it’s no trouble, I was not completely happy with what I had anyway, this way while I do the retypes I can take more time and make it even better than before.”

You looked up at him and smiled sweetly, trying with all your might to subdue the negative thoughts circling in your head. He returned the gesture by giving you the most adorable gummy smile you had ever witnessed. Wow, what a beautiful human being.

“Well, is there anything I can do to make up for this terrible circumstance Miss?”

“Y/N, please. Miss is a bit to professional for my taste and unless you have a laptop on you to help me revise and fix these rewrites, I am okay.”

“Well, Y/N, you can call me Yoongi, and as luck would have it, I actually do have a laptop in my car.”

You looked at him in shock, not sure how to handle the situation put in front of you. Could he not see that you were joking? You were not really trying to force him to help you over something so small. You really have to work on the tone of your voice when you speak. Now you have made the poor guy feel obligated to help you.

“Oh Yoongi no, I was totally kidding you don’t have to-”

“Nonsense.” He spoke, with a wave of his hand. “I made the mess after all, the least I can do is help you retype a few papers, besides, I am pretty good with words myself, so I can help make the paper even better than you originally planned, I’ll be right back.”

With a small wink in your direction, he sat up from his seat and made his way outside. He came back within what seemed a few seconds, with a small black laptop in hand. Perching himself across from you, he plugged the charger into the outlet and took a few of the coffee stained papers to turn in his direction.

You eyed him with such surprise it made him question if he has something on his face, to which you shook your head. What was he doing this for? it was not like he forced the guy to bump into him, accident happen. You should know.

“Okay, so, I will need a little bit of a background on what you are writing about, that way I know how to give proper advice how how everything should flow, you know all that good stuff.” He spoke, his gummy smile returning once more, as he began to type the first page in his grasp.

After a few hours of collaboration with Yoongi, you exchanged numbers, his excuse being he wanted to hear the official results of your paper. You could only imagine his state of happiness when you texted him three days later, explaining to him how your boss had practically leaped with joy at how much detail and work that was put into everything he had reviewed. Yoongi was quite pleased with the result and in turn asked you out to a celebratory dinner, his treat, you accepted without a moments hesitation.

Eventually, one date turned into three, those dates turned into house visits and movie nights, and now, after eight long months, you were in a very balanced relationship, one you had no idea would mean more to you than life itself. It was weird, your last relationship had lasted about two months before you had called it quits, and even in that time frame, you had so many doubts about where it was going if you truly liked the person you were with, and if it had been something your heart and mind truly wanted.

With Yoongi, it was so much more. He gave you space when you needed, and you gave him space when he needed it. He was there for your lowest points, and you were there for his. It was a steady flow of support and balance that you never thought you would feel in your life. Perhaps it meant that much more to you because this was a gradual change. He had given you the time you needed to truly start opening up to him. He knew what it was like to be shy, to hold parts of yourself from the world in fear or hidden guard. You could see in some ways that you were the same in that regard, which is probably why he knew about your mental needs and wants more than you had expected.

He was always so patient with you, willing to wait for when things were acceptable on your time, and you gave him that same respect in return. If he wanted to talk, you would listen, if he was not in the mood, you would not push unless needed. With time, being neglected was no longer apart of the norm, that feeling of indifference and seclusion was now filled with love and openness. You found yourself wanting to share more with him, to let him into your life, to share the burdens you have felt for so long without feeling guilty. Yoongi, whether he realized it or not, made you feel good enough.

That feeling of never ending appreciation and fondness, was what brought you to this very moment. You had texted Yoongi, stating how there was something you needed to share with him over dinner, something important. How important it was was supposedly a matter of opinion, but now that your mind and body have built this line of trust with him, it was only fair to him that you share your true thoughts on how much this relationship has affected you, how it continues to affect you.

He of course agreed to your little date, and once the day finally came, you did anything and everything to make sure that the night was perfect, not only for him, but for your own state of mind. You made his favorite foods, you wore the tight red shirt and black jeans he said he loved to see you in, you even went as far as to light some candles (nothing wrong with setting the mood right?). Everything was catered to his liking, everything you chose to present to him tonight was something that made him happy, and seeing him happy, made you happy.

You sat next to each other on the couch in your apartment living room, sharing the meal you had prepared. By the way he was silently eating on the plate in front of him, you could tell he thoroughly like what you had made. If he was silent during the meal that meant he was completely focus on the food in front of him, which is something you did as well. Nothing like good food to bring a comfortable silence to the table of lovers.

“Okay, consider me officially spoiled.” He spoke, wiping his mouth with his napkin. He places the used paper on the plate that rested on the table in front of him. “This was delicious, I also see your wearing my favorite outfit.”

You smiled, a small blush spread across on your cheeks as you responded. “Yeah, I know you like this outfit best, so-”

“Well I do love it.” He responded, turning to face you. “Tonight has been perfect Y/N, Seriously. Now, the anticipation is killing me, what did you want to talk about? By the way this night has gone I am hoping it is good news.”

“Well It is!, I mean- Well I hope so, I mean- It....I mean it can be, it is for me anyway-” You stuttered, trying to find the words you had practiced over and over again.

“Welp, I am full on food and ready to hear it, take your time.” He spoke, leaning back in his seat. You smiled to yourself, like always, he was giving you time, and not dwelling on the fact you seemed to have lost a bit of your confidence. Always so patient.

“Okay so....well, It’s been eight months since we started dating you know?” You asked, to which he nodded, letting you continue. “Which I have to say is really crazy! I mean, I have only had one other person before you and that did not work out...as I told you.”

He smiled, seemingly enjoying how you began to ramble on.

“And...Well, during these last few months I have not even had one thought about breaking up! Which is totally a compliment by the way. You are always so sweet to me, and so patient and trusting and I just..... I just-.....I just wanted to do something for you that shows you how much I appreciate all this time you have given to me.”

“Y/N...” Yoongi started sitting up once more. He turned his body, causing his left knee to bump into yours. He took your hand in both of his, the smile he sported still on his face. “You show me that every day-”

“No..let me finish, otherwise I’ll never get this out.” You interrupted. With a small sigh you looked into his eyes and pushed the last bit of confidence you had to the surface.

“I know we shared I love you’s already, but this is different. I don’t...I don’t open up to people often. Not in the way I have opened up to you. It is hard for me to express my emotions so freely. Whether it’s my parents or old friends, its hard to give your love to someone, only to be broken by them....not purposely of course! but in ways they may not understand because they don’t live inside my head. I can’t make them understand how I feel, not when I can’t even explain it myself.”

You could feel the tears start to bottle up in your eyes, the weight of your confession was becoming to much, but you wanted to continue, you needed to.

“Look, I just....I need you to understand that I love you, Yoongi. I truly, deeply, love you, Everything you have done for me, the time you have given me to open up with out judgement, to being the listening ear that I have always dreamed of having, you have done it all, and that has changed my entire life. It is not often I feel so accepted and love.....I don’t think I have ever felt that way, not fully at least. With you, I feel complete. These last few months have changed me for the better and i know that is because of you, I would not be where I am without you, and...I needed you to know that.

The look in Yoongi’s eyes was unreadable, much like most of the time when he was processing his own emotions. You knew him however, and you could tell by the way his hand squeezed yours tighter, how his eyes searched yours for whatever he was looking for, that he was touched by your confession.

“Y/N...” He finally whispered, pulling his right hand from atop yours to wipe away a tear that had suddenly fallen from your right cheek. “Baby, My precious Baby I love you so much. Neither of us show our emotions outright, but just know my gentle flower, the feeling is forever reciprocated.”

He leaned in, no longer able to keep a distance from you. His lips met yours slowly, as if you were to delicate right now to touch, which in some ways you were. You responded to his touch as if by instinct, leaning further into him to have more of his mouth pressing onto yours. You could feel heat growing in your chest, a sudden feeling of desperation and want clouding your insides. You knew what this was, you knew were this was leading, as you had done it many times before, but there was something different about tonight, there was something deeper, more powerful than about the process leading to the inevitable.

Your hands detached from each other, the need to touch each other far to mighty to ignore. As your hands went to the back of his hair, and to the side of his left arm, his hands tangled into your hair and to the top of your left hip.

The kiss began to gain a natural heat, tongue dived into each other, now dancing a beautiful ballet with one another. Hands clasped tighter, doing whatever it took to bring you both closer together. The tug you felt at the back of your head, caused a breathy moan from your lips, forcing you to accept the oxygen you had no idea you were being deprived of.

“Yoongi..”You moaned again, trying to gain his attention.

“Baby, I want you so bad,” He spoke, pulling away from your lips to look into your eyes. you could see the lust circling in his eyes, the darkness of his iris's no doubt matched your own. You wanted him too....scratch that... You needed him too.

“Yoongi I need more..” You whispered, looking down to his lips. “Please...”

“Your room, come on.” He commanded, shooting up from the couch. His touch left your body, much to your dismay, but you quickly complied, sitting up from the couch and making your way to your now shared bedroom.

Time seemed to be going a lot faster than you had originally anticipated, you were not able to predict the time it took you to get to your room, nor the time it took for you to strip yourself of all of your clothes, seeing as he always loved it when you were bare before him.

“Always so beautiful.” He commented, shutting the door behind him.

His stance turned into the confident predator that he became during times like this, his walk toward you held nothing but power and determination, the type that had your knees weak and your breath short.

You body was craving his touch, more so that usual, and you knew why. After making yourself so vulnerable, which was something you never did, you needed reassurance. You needed him to show you that what you just did was okay, that he would accept the heart that you had so willingly given him access to. You needed to know that the love was returned.

He now stood right in front of you, his eyes gliding up and down you naked form in what seemed to be complete adoration. With a small smirk, and click of his tongue, he spoke, “Lay down, and spread those pretty legs for me baby.” He nodded his head to the bed behind you, and as always you were quick to comply to his wish, your ability to resist or play stubborn a mere passing thought in your mind.

With your legs spread apart, and elbows holding up your upper half, you watched with deep interest as Yoongi eyed your core, his tongue darting out to lick his lips and making your stomach clench in anticipation, sending a wave of wetness to your core.

“I can see how wet you are.” Yoongi commented, his focus turning to your for a split second before returning to your wet heat. “I haven’t even done anything yet, how could you possibly be this wet?”

“Guess you just have that affect on me.” You spoke with a smile.

“Then you should know how hard I am right now then, seeing as you have the same effect on me, princess.” He called out, making your eyes rake down to his lower half, and sure enough, through the fabric of his black jeans was his erection, in it’s glory, growing in front of your very eyes.

You found it sweet that even now, your reactions to each other doing the bare minimum, was as strong as when you had first engaged in sexual activities. It was like your bodies were addicted to one another, and the very idea of getting to touch each other in even the simplest of ways, was enough to have your body aching for more, no matter the circumstance.

“I’m going to devour this sweet, sweet Pussy, would you like that baby? You want me to suck up these sweet juices?” He asked, his voice low, sweet and tempting. He slipped his shirt off in one swift motion, throwing it to the floor to an undisclosed location. He loosened the button on his pants, letting the fly now hang freely open giving him and his crotch the air it needed.

“Yes Yoongi..... Yes, please, I want your tongue in me so bad.” You answered, your voice rushed. “

He smirked as he took his final steps to the bed. He spread your legs while lowering his body, making sure to keep eye contact with you as his face reached closer to the are where you wanted him most.

“It makes me so happy to know that this is all mine.” He spoke, his voice low and seductive. His lips touched upon the skin of your inner left leg, the feeling nothing more than a light peck. “To know that I am the only one who could ever touch something so precious, it drives me wild.”

You whimpered as his lips traveled lower as they remained on your skin. You could feel the lingering feeling of his luscious lips of every piece of your thigh that he touched, only making you crave more than he was currently giving you. You knew he was doing this on purpose, he wanted to tease you, to make your body ache for him, to make your body push hard to earn what he would give you.

“Yoongi..” You whined, your hands clenching on the sheets below you. You were about to complain, to use whatever was left of your voice to explain how much you needed him, but it turned into nothing more than a exasperated moan, as his tongue finally came into contact with your soaking core.

You knew in reality that by the way his fingers slid up and down your thighs, the way he light kissed the insides of your trembling legs to calm you down, you didn’t have to say a single word.

He breached your inner walls, curving his wet tongue to reach the places he knew would have you squirming and begging for more. His mouth collected your wetness, using it as a lubricant on his desperate lips. He sucked and licked slowly and thoroughly, finding any and every place he could.

“Fuck..” You began, arching your back. “Fuck, fuck yes Yoongi right there, oh my god yes, yes right there, please keep going, right there, right there, right there keep sucking me.”

“Mmmhm.” He responded, knowing this would be your response. He raised his right hand in the air letting your eyes note the two digits that lowered slowly until found its way to your aching lips. With studied precision, he entered you, his fingers sliding in and out your wet walls. He made the process agonizingly slow, pulling in and out at the slowest pace he could muster. The rough edges of the tips of his fingers continuously sliding in tune with your movements, making you cry out in want and desperation. You needed him to go faster, the need to have him pushing you to your absolute limit was now a must, he felt to good, he felt so right, his fingers were so powerful you were not sure how you ever went without them for any part of your life.

He hummed once more against your cunt, sending even more powerful vibrations from his mouth to your throbbing clit. The mixed physical sensations caused your body to twitch in eagerness. Did you forget to mention that he felt so good? Did you forget to mention how much you needed even more of him? You could not remember the thoughts you had conjured up before. You did not know how one man could make you feel like you were on cloud nine whenever he touched you, how one man could use his tongue and push your mind to forget the difference between reality and fantasy.

Your clit was pulsating with every suck, your pussy was clenching with every touch. The way his fingers entered you over and over again, taking only a few moments to exit your cunt to collect the wetness your body continually produced was driving you crazy. Your stomach was clenching more and more, indicating how close you were to your first real release since all this agonizing teasing began. All you knew was that you were on the edge, and that you needed your daddies permission to let you climb over the edge, just once. If only you could let go for only a moment.

“Yoongi, Yoongi baby please I’m gonna-”

“Gonna come for me, my precious flower?” He asked, lifting his mouth from you, but not letting his fingers stop their fast paced in and out motions in your cunt. He knew how much your body could take, he knew what your body needed. “Gonna let me feel you come over my fingers before I fuck you into oblivion? You want me to feel your delectable pussy clench on my fingers?”

Your breathing began to race at his words, you could feel yourself on the edge, you could feel your body begin to let go.

“That’s right baby, come for me, let me see those sexy fuckin pussy lips tighten around me. I want to suck your sweet cum juices until you are completely dry baby, I want to show you how much I love you and your body.”

You could not hold the moan that escaped your lips as you came, the feeling of euphoria washing over you and your desperate body as Yoongi continued to push in and out of you, allowing you to ride out the high he had graciously given you.

Yoongi watched as your breathing began to steady. That was how he knew what state you were in, and he knew that you, as well as him, craved more, no matter how much you may have liked what he gave you.

“I am not done with you yet princess.” He spoke, making sure your attention would go to him, despite your tired state, and of course, it did.

“Oh?” you answered, a small smirk on your face. “What else do you have for me.?”

“Something you know that if I wanted, I could have you begging for.” He answered, his tongue licking his lips as he did before.

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softforcal · 5 years

Text

Trouvaille : Harry Styles

Summary: When Harry gets a new roommate, he gets more than what he bargained for.

Word Count: 19k

Warnings: smut

Tropes: Roommates, Slow Burn, super fucking soft, art souls.

Harry Moodboard : OC Moodboard

Trouvaille : (french) meaning “a lucky find”

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His thumb absentmindedly fidgeted with the chunky silver band around his finger, rolling it over and over again as he studied Valentina with tired, but alert, green eyes. She wondered for the umpteenth time how she’d even ended up sitting across from the moody artist at a coffee shop at seven AM, but the answer was simple: she really needed a place to live.

Valentina hadn’t been ignorant to the challenges that would come with finding a new place for the start of term, but when her room mate had dropped out last minute and left Valentina to a two bedroom apartment she couldn’t afford herself, she knew she wouldn't be able to find someone dumb enough to move into the small shithole on such short notice, and that had left her one option.

“So why’s the room vacant? What happened to your last roommate?” Valentina asked, sipping at her black coffee as she eyed the man whose first words to her had been “I already had coffee, been here since six.” in a British accent that had had her heart flip flopping the moment she sat down.

“Never had one.” the guy stated simply, as if that explained everything. His left hand sat on the table, pads of his fingers creating soft thudding sounds as he tapped them against the dark wood.

“But it’s a two bedroom-”

“Parents pay for it.” he said. Once more, his words were a statement. The look in his eyes told Valentina that he wasn’t the kind of guy who liked to be questioned, likely viewing any inquiry she made as meddlesome and intrusive. His gaze was piercing and direct, the man sitting in front of Valentina wasn’t the type to shy away from doing socially questionable things, that much was obvious. He took her in fully, and she felt like she was under inspection, as if any wrong move would set him off and she’d be back to searching for an apartment. So Valentina kept her mouth shut.

“Surprised you did a facebook ad.” Valentina said to clear the silence, hoping this was an okay subject to discuss, “your pictures are amazing, and your price is really affordable, would have thought if you’d put it somewhere else-”

“Was hoping no one would see it.” he said, tilting his head as he gaged her reaction.

“Oh.” she couldn’t help the frown that marred her features as she set down her coffee cup, “so why-”

“Parents said I need a roommate.” he leaned forward for the first time, elbows on the table as he encroached on her as if he was about to tell her a special, dirty little secret, “apparently, I’m not social enough.”

At such a close distance, she could appreciate the green of his eyes, the strong chiseled jaw, his pretty pink lips, the beautiful dark curls that she wanted to run her fingers through - and Valentina was, without a doubt, slightly overwhelmed by it all. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment as they just studied each other. She wondered if his eyes perhaps looked so devastatingly bright because of the comfy, large green sweatshirt he was wearing, a hole in the collar drawing her attention briefly. She could feel his breath on her face and she inhaled, some primal part of her hoping to get a hint of a taste of what the beautiful boy might smell like, but alas, she was met only with the aroma of roast coffee beans that blanketed the store at all hours of the day.

“You seem social to me.” Valentina said, only a half lie slipping from her lips, but it seemed to do the trick.

The artist smiled, leaning back in his chair again, one arm going casually over the back of it as he kicked his feet out lazily, flourishing his hand, “have a few questions to go through to make sure you’re a compatible roommate.” when she stayed quiet, he continued, “I’m an artist, I work when inspiration hits, and I work to music. Loud music. Sometimes it’s two in the afternoon, sometimes its two AM, regardless, I need my music.”

He paused, and Valentine recognized that although he hadn’t asked a direct question, he was waiting for a response, so she struggled to come up with one, blinking before stating “I’m a heavy sleeper.”

After another once over, and a curt nod, the man continued, “i have a random sleep schedule, and like my music, sometimes I cook at weird hours too.”

Again, another pause that Valentina filled with “I stay mostly in my room, so I doubt it would bug me much.”

The guy sat up a little straighter, his hand going onto the table again, fingers brushing over the wood, “you single?” his eyes were downcast, watching the pads of his digits dance across the oak, as if the motion was more interesting than the question he’d just asked.

“I-” Valentina had been ready to answer any question about cleanliness or food allergies or, well, anything, but this one was a tad surprising. After a moment to collect herself, she managed to stutter “no, I’m not, uh, not in a relationship.”

“No fuck buddies, that sort of thing?”

Valentina could feel her skin heating, her fingers gripping her coffee cup tighter as she shook her head, looking down, “no.”

“How do you feel about me having girls at the apartment?”

“I mean, it’s your apartment-” she bit at her lip, “are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Single.”

“Mmm.” he hummed, hand coming up to rub at his jaw, he finally took his gaze from Valentina, looking around the coffee place. Then his eyes landed on her half empty cup, “so do you want to come look at the apartment?”

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The soft sound of music was the only clue that Harry was even at the apartment as Valentina and Bethany finished carrying boxes into Valentina’s new room. He’d given her a key the day they’d met, mumbling that she could move in whenever, but preferably before classes started up the next week. He hadn’t offered a reason for this odd timeline, but Valentina hadn’t argued, throwing out a possible move in date that he’d nodded to without a second thought.

Part of her wondered if he’d even realized she was moving in. As Bethany had pointed out, it was a little odd he hadn’t so much as poked his head out of his room to say hi, or offer to help the girls cary things in. Valentina was starting to realize that this absent behaviour was likely something she’d have to get used to. Between the two of them, she figured all in all, they’d just be two ghost inhabiting one apartment, likely brushing past each other on odd occasions but never fully interacting. It seemed like he was the type that kept to himself, but Valentina was the same way, so she didn’t mind.

It was just beginning to get dark when Bethany finally left, voicing her disappointment in still having not been able to meet the elusive gorgeous artist roommate that Valentina was stuck with for a year, but Valentina assured her as she ushered her friend from the apartment that there’s be time for that later.

Valentina slid the deadbolt shut and turned around, almost jumping out of her skin when her eyes landed on Harry leaning in his doorway with his arms crossed over his chest, “You scared me!” she breathed.

He was wearing black ripped jeans and an old band t shirt that matched the Led Zeppelin softly drifting from his room. His eyes watched her for a few moments, “sorry.” he said, voice low and grumbly. She waited for him to say something else, to find out why he had finally left his room, but as more time passed, she realized that perhaps he had just come to look at her, as if gawking at a freakshow.

Valentina didn’t know what she was doing that could be so interesting that he felt the need to stare. She was in her everyday clothes - a tight black turtleneck and high waisted, coffee coloured, plaid pants. Her dark hair was pulled into a messy bun, and she hadn’t felt the need to put in contacts on moving day, so square framed, black glasses sat on the tip of her nose, perhaps just a tad out of place.

Instead of looking at him, her eyes shifted past his broad frame, getting a good view of his bedroom through the open door. He had the corner room in the apartment building, and Valentina could see large windows, she could imagine how bright it would be in the morning sunshine, perfect for an artist. There were clothes strewn about, and Valentina could just make out a half buried mattress on the floor, but before she could look further, Harry must have noticed her wandering gaze and pulled his door closed behind him, stepping into the living room area, “what do you study?”

“Hmm?” Valentina looked up at him again, a little caught off guard by the question.

“I never asked. Before. What do you study?” he reiterated, walking over to the kitchen.

With his gaze no longer on her, Valentina felt pressure lifted from her shoulders, “I’m doing classical voice training, a focus on Opera.”

Harry opened the fridge and leaned over, reaching in and pulling out what looked like a box of Chinese takeaway. He didn’t ask any more questions as he loudly threw open a drawer, grabbing chopsticks which he held expertly in his right hand, remaining silent as he went back to his room, shutting the door behind him.

A few moments later, piano music filled the apartment, followed closely by a rummaging noise. The loud sounds forced their way out into the main area from the sliver under Harry’s door. Valentina sighed, recognizing this as her first night (of likely what was to be many) where Harry played his music obnoxiously loud, and she would be forced to listen or grab ear plugs.

Valentina looked around the apartment, hands on her hips as she took it all in. Her eyes landed on the small dining table, perched perfectly in front of the large window overlooking the busy street. The sun was setting but the last inklings of pink were dashing across the deepening blue expanse of sky, and Valentina had never seen such a perfectly situated table before in her life. She grabbed a book from her room and went to sit down, pleasantly enthralled by the pretty situation, the words on the cream coloured paper, and the piano music that could be heard from the dining table.

--------

“But I want to see if he’s as cute as you say he is.” Bethany whined, frowning at Valentina who groaned, stretching out on the grass and smiling up at her friend.

“Even if you did come over, I doubt you’d see him. He stays in his room all the time.”

“He must come out for food.”

“Probably, but not while I’m awake.” Valentina sighed, grabbing at her thick, dark hair to pull up into a bun.

“He must have instagram or something, after all, he’s an artist right?” Bethany said finally, eyes hopeful.

“I mean, I guess.” Valentina shrugged, having not yet taken the time to look up her new roommate on anything but facebook, which is where she’d originally seen the ad, but his facebook had been barren and she wasn’t very hopeful that his instagram would be much different.

“What’s his name again?”

“Harry Styles.” Valentina answered absentmindedly, but after a moment of thought, she realized it was the first time she’d said the name out loud, and it sounded good. It sounded right, falling from her lips that moved like they were used to the motion of it already.

“He’s friends with that Niall guy right?”

“Yeah, Niall sent me the ad.” Valentina confirmed, moving up to rest her weight on her forearms as she leaned over to look at Bethany’s phone. She watched as Bethany tapped on Niall’s following list on instagram, typing in ‘styles.’ Nothing came up so she tried ‘Harry’ next, again, nothing. As she deleted the letters Valentina’s eye caught something, stopping her friend at the letter ‘H.’ A somewhat pompous black and white photo of a rose staring up at them, beckoning them to come closer and for some reason, Valentina knew that it must be him.

The profile read ‘art n’ shit’ and there was something so oddly Harry about it that Valentina had no doubt they were on the correct instagram, even though a quick scroll through proved there were no actual pictures of Valentina’s new, elusive roommate.

“So he must be pretty big in the New York art scene.” Bethany mused, having noticed that Harry’s follower count was well into six digits.

“I guess.” Valentina said absentmindedly, not thinking too much about her roommates possible fame.

Something caught her eye amongst the art and the aesthetically pleasing pictures that were making her skin prickle. “That one.” she said, pointing to a canvas picture, “it’s in the living room.” she hadn’t realized it was one of Harry’s creations, but looking at it now, it made sense.

“What is it?” Bethany asked.

Valentina tilted her head, she’d never really inspected the piece, and it did have a lot going on. Many different blobs of colours caught the eye immediately, and it was hard to focus on just one, “it looks like… I think it’s a painting of a mirror next to a window, and the mirror is showing the reflection of his dirty room?” the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. Thinking back, she could just remember a gold frame near his bed, she hadn’t gotten a good look at it, but that was definitely what it looked like in the painting.

Bethany’s eye brows furrowed as she stared at the instagram picture of a picture, “his room is messy?”

“He had his door open for a bit the night I moved in, and there were clothes everywhere, it was chaos.”

“So this guy is a bit of a weirdo huh?” Bethany laughed.

“Yeah.” Valentina smiled. Her grin quickly disappeared, heart lurching as Bethany hit the follow button, “what are you doing?!”

“Following.”

“Yes, but why?!” Valentina asked wildly, sitting up fully to stare at her friend with a look of fear and betrayal.

“Why not?” Bethany countered.

“Uh, how about because he can see we follow each other and are friends and now he’ll know we were talking about him?”

Bethany broke into a grin, “fuck, I didn’t think about that. But wait, if he doesn’t know your insta then you’re fine right? Plus, the guy is super popular, I doubt he’ll notice a new follow.”

Valentina took a deep breath, realizing there was truth to that statement. Sure, she was mutuals with both Niall and Bethany, but there was no way Harry would draw the connection, especially if he didn’t even have her on instagram. “I think i’m just on edge.” Valentina admitted, “it’s been kind of odd living with him.”

“It’s only been a week.” Bethany pointed out, “besides you said he stays in his room.”

“He does, but I don’t know… knowing he’s only a few feet away, separated only by a wall… I just… I don’t know.” Valentina sighed, “if you knew him, you’d know what I mean.”

--------

He didn’t know the girl. Perhaps that was what made him lift the needle from the record, throwing the room into silence as his brows furrowed, clicking on her instagram profile. He said her name out loud, “Bethany” as if hoping that the verbal motion of saying it would spark some sort of recognition.

Taking a last drag of his blunt, Harry set it down in the ashtray, letting the smoke creep from his mouth to join the smell of incense hanging in the air.

Harry had no clue who the girl was but as he scanned her profile he realized they had a mutual: Niall.

Harry and Niall went way back, and Niall wasn’t the type to just be giving out Harry’s instagram.

Modesty was not a trait that many would connect to a guy like Harry Styles. He had ego. He had followers. He was well known in the New York underground art world, but usually he gained followers in correlation with events, not just randomly on a wednesday afternoon.

He thought about it for a moment, thumbs hovering over his screen. His jaw set, muscle feathering under skin, and he ran a hand through his messy curls, taking a deep breath before he tapped Bethany’s following list.

Valentina wasn’t hard to find, and Harry took a moment or two to study her profile picture, noticing the dimple on her left cheek. Harry often appreciated symmetry, but in this case, the appearance of just one, singular dimple, was endearing, and he wondered what it would look like in person if he ever made the beautiful girl smile.

Her instagram was nice, Harry was very particular about how things looked, but hers… well, it was nice. Harry noticed as he looked at her face that perhaps he was going easy on her because he thought she was gorgeous. It was undeniable, as much as he hated to admit it to himself. His new roommate was fucking insanely beautiful. It was very unnerving for him. It both excited and terrified him to the point that he didn't even want to think about it.

Harry took a deep breath, he supposed a follow showed at least some effort, and it was a hell of a lot easier than actually talking to the goddess who lived in the room next to his. After a moment of hesitation, he hit the button, then turned off him phone, throwing it across the room before putting the needle back on the vinyl, flooding the room with music again.

--------

She needed a drink. Valentina was regretting the fact that months ago when she’d chosen courses she’d thought history looked interesting. Staring down at the textbook at two AM, she wished she was dead, or at least, asleep, which was about as close to death as she could get. She itched for something to help her calm down, something to relax her so maybe the reading would flow easier. Having been thinking about grabbing a beer for over an hour, she finally conceded, standing from her desk to walk to her bedroom door.

The vibrations had pulsated through her bedroom wall that adjoined Harry’s, but with her bedroom door open, the music hit her even more. Classical piano had always been something she enjoyed, and although Clair De Lune was a pretty basic choice, it still felt like home, wrapping her in warmth as she walked to the kitchen.

Leaning down to grab a beer from the fridge, Valentina realized she didn’t have a bottle opener. A brief search through the drawers in the kitchen left her empty handed, turning to stare at Harry’s door. She shuffled from foot to foot, gnawing at her lip as she thought about whether she really needed the beer.

It had been a week since her awkward roommate had followed her on instagram, and somehow he’d gotten even more elusive. She hadn’t bumped into him once, and part of her was beginning to wonder if he ever left his room to go to school or eat.

With one last look down at the beer in her hand, Valentina took a deep breath, walking to Harry’s door. Her knuckles rapped against the wood firmly, and she waited for a moment. There was no response and Valentina wasn’t surprised, the music could easily drown out the sound of her knocks just as well as it was drowning out her thoughts.

She knocked again, louder this time.

As Valentina was about to knock a third time, the door swung open, releasing the smell of incense and sound of dangerously loud piano. Valentina’s jaw dropped, every thought disappearing as her eyes took in Harry.

He was shirtless, wearing nothing but sweats that hung low on his hips. His beautiful skin was covered in tattoos and Valentina’s eyes hurried to take them all in, hopefully burning them into her memory before she got caught staring too long. His hands were marred with paint, a brush in one hand, and as her gaze went up she noticed flecks of colour on his cheek that she itched to reach out and rub away.

“What do you want?” he asked, voice as grumbly as always.

Valentina blinked, swallowing hard as she struggled to relearn english. She laughed awkwardly, covering her face with her hand as she cast her eyes down, hoping that not looking at the gorgeous man in front of her would help her collect herself better, but all it did was make her notice the tattoos on his feet which did not help in the slightest, so she looked up again, “I don’t have a bottle opener-” she held out the beer.

Harry looked down at it before his gaze flickered back up to her. He put his paintbrush between his teeth then he reached out and took the bottle from her hands, and Valentina watched as he wedged the cap in the door hinge where the lock would slide into place if the door was closed. The bottle cap popped off easily and Harry handed it back to her as she stood there dumbfounded at how easy that had been, how graceful and sexy he had looked - then he shut the door and she was left standing there feeling like an idiot.

--------

When Valentina had arrived home she had assumed she was alone. There was no obnoxious music coming from under Harry’s closed door, nor was there a slight smell of incense lingering in the air, both of which always seemed to signify Harry’s presence in the apartment.

She took the alone time to have a bath in the massive four clawed tub. It was such an odd extravagance to find in an apartment like this one, and she’d never had the courage to ask Harry if it had been there when he arrived, but part of her always felt as if it was something uniquely his. The bathroom had a lot of tile, and it had an echoey feel that made it perfect for Valentina to practice her vocal training as she enjoyed the feeling of the hot water.

It had been a nice mid September day, and she’d arrived at the apartment early, the air outside still warm in the wake of her afternoon class. Once she was dried off from her peaceful bath, Valentina looked out her window. Her bedroom faced the alley and it had a terrace accessible if she climbed through her window.

It was a nice terrace, with flower pots and everything. Again, Valentina found her wondering intrusive thoughts about Harry, whether or not he was the type with a green thumb, but she pushed the lustful musings of her hot roommate watering flowers from her mind.

Figuring this as good a time as any to enjoy the fleeting warmth of the sunshine, Valentina opened her window and began to climb outside, stopping when she noticed Harry sitting there.

The terrace was in front of both of their rooms, and Valentina nearly smacked herself for not realizing there was a possibility of Harry taking advantage of the sunshine as well. He was sitting just outside his window, a duvet half wrapped around him, olive green beanie on his head and a blunt between two ring clad fingers.

Valentina began to apologize, moving to go back into her room when Harry’s voice surprised her, “it’s fine. Come out.”

She looked at him. His gaze was turned towards the street to his left, sunshine lighting up his side profile brilliantly. His eyes were closed, like a cat basking in the warmth and celestial light rays cast by a star. As he exhaled, smoke billowed around him, picked up and evident in the beams of sunshine that were making the entire look of him almost ethereal.

When he realized she hadn’t moved, he turned to her again, blinking, “seriously. Come. sit.” he shuffled over a bit, making room for her on the duvet, he patted the spot next to him, “I don’t bite.” his gaze went back to the street, “hard.” he breathed, but it was more of an afterthought, as if he’d been distracted by something out of Valentina’s view.

Harry brought the blunt to his mouth again, plump, pretty, pink lips wrapping around it, cheeks hollowing as he inhaled. Valentina finally approached, if nothing more than to get a better look at the god she called her roommate. After a moment of hesitation, she joined him on the duvet, mirroring Harry as she put her legs out in front of her, leaning back against his window.

“You have a lovely voice.” he mused, taking the blunt from his mouth as he blew out smoke.

Valentina’s heart lurched in her chest with the realization that he’d heard her singing while she was in the bath, “I didn’t know you were home-” she began.

“M’ not annoyed.” he said, “if that’s what you’re worried about.” he flicked the stubby end of the finished blunt off the terrace, and something told Valentina that maybe he was a bit annoyed by her being so on edge all the time.

“Oh.” she breathed, struggling to figure out the man sitting next to her.

“Why do you always think I’m annoyed or summat?” he asked, turning to look at her finally.

It took everything in Valentina to not meet his gaze as she fidgeted with her own fingers, eyes downcast again, “you just don’t talk much.”

“Not like you’re jumping at every chance to talk to me either love.”

“You’re never out of your room.” she pointed out.

“I’m out of my room loads.” he scoffed, “you’re never out of your room.”

She thought about it for a moment before laughing, “touche.”

“If you want weekly movie night or roommate bonding, I can find time, you just didn’t strike me as the type pet.” he breathed, pulling off his beanie so he could run a hand through his wild curls.

Valentina was surprised by the offer.

She was surprised by the whole interaction. This was a guy who hadn’t really spoken more than a sentence to her, and the few times he had, he had looked pained, as if conversation with her hurt some odd part of his soul. But now, here he was, not only talking, but making plans to get to know her better.

“Roommate bonding.” Valentina repeated his words back to him.

“Normal people do that right?” he questioned, securing his beanie over his head as he grimaced, hoping he wasn’t once again overstepping some weird social boundary he had been unaware of.

“I’ve only ever been roommates with people I’m already friends with.” Valentina admitted, “so I don’t know.”

He stayed quiet for a moment and Valentina wondered what was going through his mind. Then he sighed, standing, “if you wanna, let me know.”

He began to climb into his room and Valentina stood, “you’re duvet-”

“Do what you want with it, I have loads of blankets.”

--------

Valentina was used to the music, that wasn’t what was making her stare at the wall between her and Harry’s bedroom with furrowed brows. It was something beneath the music. A thumping sound that just didn't’ match the slow tempo of the song, and if there was one thing Valentina knew, it was music and pace.

What was confusing Valentina, was the fact that (as far as she’d seen) Harry didn’t have a bed frame. So if he was in his room with a girl at 2 am, what the hell was hitting her wall loud enough to be heard amongst the loud rock music?

For a moment, Valentina’s mind was enraptured with dirty ideas of how, exactly, Harry could be achieving such a sound. Perhaps he was fucking the girl against the wall, yes, that would make sense-

Valentina’s stomach growled loudly and she sighed, mind wandering from the sinfully delightful concepts that had plagued her thoughts since noticing the noise. She looked down at the book she was reading and closed it, standing. She stretched, the hem of her oversized hoodie dragging up her thighs, teasing no one in her empty room as she groaned, enjoying the feeling of her muscles tensing then relaxing with an exhale.

She went to run a hand through her hair and realized it was still in a bun. Her shoulders slumped as she thought longfully about sleep, having not been aware of just how tired she was. Valentina decided she’d grab food then go to bed, that made the most sense.

She slipped her feet into uggs, having learned early on that she was not a fan of the cold kitchen floor whenever she went on a midnight fridge raid.

As Valentina shuffled to the kitchen slowly, turning on necessary lights, she thought about what she could possibly sink her teeth into. Bending over, not a care in the world, she rifled through the fridge, sticking to her designated shelf of food as she took in everything her last grocery trip had to offer.

She reached to grab an apple sitting in the back of the fridge and squealed when hands landed on her hips and something brushed by her bum. Valentina jumped forward, almost smacking her head against the top of the fridge before whipping around to look at Harry who was already busying himself by grabbing the toaster to plug it in, “what?” he asked, not even looking at the girl who was gawking at him.

“You…” Valentina stuttered, “you….” brushed past my ass “snuck up on me.”

“You weren’t paying attention and you were taking up a lot of room. Had to get past you love.” Harry answered absentmindedly, turning to look at her as he rested one hand on the counter, eying Valentina.

He was shirtless, skin and tattoos looking beautiful under a slight sheen of sweat.

Valentina swallowed hard as he approached, her mind once more going to what, exactly, he had just been doing in his bedroom. Or was it who he had just been doing?

She could feel his breath against her face as he looked down at her, “gonna move, or do I have to move you again?” he asked.

Valentina stared up at him, brain not understanding his meaning until his hand went to the handle of the freezer that Valentina was blocking, “oh.” she felt her skin flush immediately, taking a massive step back to allow him to open the freezer and access his Eggo waffles.

After he had his prize secure in his hand and had closed the freezer, he turned back to the toaster. Valentina watched his broad shoulders, muscles moving under unmarred skin as he popped the waffles into the appliance, head turning slightly so his eyes could meet hers, “do you need something?”

Valentina gripped her apple, showing it to him, “no, I’m uh… gonna go now.”

After a moment of waiting for a response that would never come, Valentina turned to go back to her room, her skin getting hotter with each step farther away from her gorgeous roommate.

Harry watched her go as soon as he was sure his wandering eyes wouldn’t be caught. He took a moment to appreciate the way her oversized hoodie hung perfectly, exactly at Valentina’s mid thigh. The white fabric set off her tan skin deliciously, and Harry wondered for a moment how hard it would be to match the tone. His fingers twitched, itching to grab a paintbrush and create something, anything, that could try to capture the beauty that was Valentina Armani, his hot roommate.

The toaster popped, signifying his waffles were finished. Harry plucked them and revelled in the oddly painful feeling of the hot food in his bare hands, pausing momentarily just to enjoy the heat prickling the tips of his fingers. He shoved one into his mouth as he walked back to his room, pushing the door open to reveal the pretty blonde lounging in his bed, the white sheets covering her nudity as she grinned at him.

“Who were you talking to?” she asked. Harry noticed the music had been turned down since he left the room, and he chewed his food a little faster, annoyed that the girl had dared to touch his sound system.

“Roommate.” he answered, collapsing onto the bed next to the girl he’d been casually seeing for three or four months.

She pulled him to her chest by his hair, fingers massaging his scalp and tangling in his curls, “didn’t know you had a roommate.” she mused.

Harry hummed as a response, rolling onto his back so his head was on the girls stomach, his legs kicked out half off the mattress onto the floor, “she’s new.”

“It’s a she?” the girl asked in shock.

“Yeah.” Harry said, shoving more of his waffle into his mouth.

The girl was a nice fuck, a nice cuddle when Harry was feeling sentimental, but half the time he ended up forgetting her name, which was probably his own fault seeing as her contact in his phone was ‘fuck.’ He liked simple things, things that were easy to remember. Besides, if he actually attributed a name to the girl, he might end up actually seeing her as a person, which he wasn’t too keen on.

Harry finished up his waffle and sat up, looking down at the girl who was tracing one of his tattoos with her fingers, “you need to leave.” he stated.

She sighed loudly, “see this is why you don’t have any friends Harry.”

He said nothing, standing fully as he went to go sit on his piano bench, cracking his knuckles and finding a joint to smoke while waiting for the girl to recollect her clothes from where they were mixed with Harry’s on the ground.

“You should really clean your room.” the girl said as she pulled on a hoodie.

Harry shrugged, taking a long drag from his newly lit joint, smoke curling around him.

When her clothes were on, Harry made a move to get up, but the girl waved a hand, “don’t bother, I’ll show myself out, I’ve done it before.”

--------

Harry sat on his floor, back hunched as he stared at his notepad. The afternoon sun illuminated his room, and small particles twinkled in the sunbeams when Harry shook his head, curls bouncing as he tried to get a handle on the situation.

His final project was pretty clear.

One model. One constant in three seperate images. One a photograph, one a painting, and one art medium of his choice. All the pictures needed to be something natural, something every day, a glimpse into the life of his model.

He’d known who he wanted to draw the moment his teacher had explained the project that morning, and in the hours it had been since his class, Harry had been trying to convince himself that there were better options than his roommate. Except, there weren't.

She was the obvious choice.

Clear as day.

Harry’s fingers twitched just thinking about drawing her, and again, he had to make a conscious effort not to grab his sketch pad and begin off memory.

He thought about it for a while, considering possible constants that he could put in each piece. He’d decided on a sketch as his third option, another obvious choice for Harry who had been doodling and perfecting his pencil work since he was old enough to hold a crayon.

As Harry was about to roll a blunt to calm down, he heard Valentina’s beautiful voice seep under his door, signaling her arrival home. He knew that she tried to be quiet whenever she thought he was around, that she drowned out her own voice with other music while she practiced. Harry had always wondered why she did that, but he’d never really gotten the chance to ask. Well, he’d had many opportunities to ask, but he’d never acted on any of them.

She was humming something, and Harry wondered if she was even aware that she was singing or if it came as second nature to her, like whenever he found himself doodling in the margins of his notepad during lectures. Harry had been sitting in silence, and whenever he did that he knew Valentina just assumed he was out, seeing as he was listening to music loudly most of the time when he was home.

He stood quietly, bare feed padding softly against the wooden floor as he went to his door, opening it slightly to peer out at Valentina who was in the kitchen. She’d discarded her jacket on the couch, and looked to be making pasta, hips swaying slightly as she quietly sang lyrics in a language that Harry guessed was italian.

The way the lyrics flowed from her mouth felt like poetry hanging in the air, and Harry felt his skin prickle, a shiver running up his spine at the passion that could be heard behind each word, even though they were quiet.

He had no clue what Valentina was singing about, but her voice made him want to learn Italian just to discover the secret meaning hidden just out of his reach by a foreign dialect.

Harry crossed his arms over his chest, leaning in the doorway to watch her cook. There was something so endearing about the way she stood next to the pot of water on the stove, as if her watchful gaze would make the water boil faster.

“Have you got laser vision or something I should be worried about?” Harry asked as he approached Valentina. She whipped around and Harry realized he would never get tired of that adorable look of shock on her face.

“What?”

Harry sighed, noticing that what he’d just said probably made zero sense, “forget about it.” he said, moving past her to grab his Eggos from the freezer.

“No, can you uh, what did you mean?” she asked, pressing him for answers for the first time ever, and it made Harry stop, turning to look at her with a cheeky grin.

He laughed, “I just meant, you’re staring at your water love, s’ not gonna make it boil any faster, unless you have laser vision.”

She studied him and for a few seconds the kitchen was quiet, two souls staring at each other, trying to figure each other out. Finally Valentina laughed, “you’re a bit of a dork aren't you?” she questioned, quirking an eyebrow at him as Harry went into motion, going to her other side to access the toaster.

“A lil bit.” he admitted.

Valentina watched him pop the waffles into the toaster and sighed, “is that all you eat?”

“Sometimes.” he said, turning to lean against the counter, arms crossing over his chest as he looked at her directly.

“Look, I know pasta is still a carb, so it’s not much better, but how about you give something that’s not frozen a try?” Valentina sighed.

Harry cocked his head at her, a grin flashing over his features, “you offering to cook for me sweetheart?”

Valentina rolled her eyes, scoffing, “wow, a girl tries to be nice and now I feel like I’m your mom-”

“Can’t fuck me mum now can I?”

Valentina gaped at him, “uh, can’t fuck me either-”

“I mean, no, you’re right-” the smile disappeared as he stood up straighter, eyebrows furrowing, “I just meant, you’re an option-” he gestured to her and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Uh…”

“Fuck me.” Harry groaned, quickly moving past her to escape to his bedroom. The door shut behind him and Valentina was left staring at it, mind still trying to comprehend the odd interaction that had just taken place.

A few moments later, heavy rock began blasting from under his door and Valentina sighed, turning back to her water which had come to a boil. She poured her pasta in and set a timer for eight minutes, pushing herself up so she could sit on the counter while she waited, scrolling through her phone absentmindedly.

The popping of the toaster nearly stopped her heart, and she groaned loudly, a little annoyed that Harry was still surprising her and he wasn’t even in the room. She stared down at the two waffles that Harry had abandoned and sighed, this guy was really something else.

--------

The knock on his door had been distinct, something Harry couldn’t have missed. He waited a few moments before going to open the door, surprised to not find Valentina standing there. Instead, at his feet, was a bowl of pasta with tomato sauce, his eggos sitting half on top. Harry looked down at the food, stomach flip flopping at the thought that Valentina had legitimately made him food, even after his very odd comment about his mum.

Harry stepped over the food, walking the two steps to get to Valentina’s door. He knocked softly, gnawing at his lip while he waited.

She opened the door with furrowed brows, surprised (again) at his behaviour, having not expected him to interact with her after such an odd interaction in the kitchen.

“Thanks for the food.” he stated immediately, his hands coming up to rest on either side of the door frame. Leaning over made him eye level with Valentina and she got a good look at his beautiful green eyes.

“It’s fine.” she said, “I offered right?”

“You did and I… uh… I don’t talk to people much? Sometimes- sometimes stupid things leave my mouth.” his eyebrows furrowed as he struggled to find the words, “and we live together, so I don’t want you to feel any pressure, m’ not a creep-”

“I know you’re not.” Valentina interrupted, “I don’t get creepy vibes from you.”

“Oh. Well, good.” Harry nodded more to himself than anything, “I uh…” Harry groaned, conflicted on whether or not this was a good time to ask her to be his model for his final, “you know what? Forget about it.”

He turned to go and Valentina grabbed at his forearm, making him stop and look at her, “what is it?” she asked, eyes full of concern and intrigue at what could possibly be something Harry didn’t want to say.

She let go of his arm and he ran a hand through his curls, “I’ve got this final, and I need a model and, well, I thought of you-”

“Me?” Valentina asked in shock, “what about the girl you had over the other night?”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, for a moment not realizing who she was even talking about. Then it hit him like a ton of bricks. She’d heard when he’d had the girl over. He’d thought he’d played the music loud enough, “uh… she’s… uh, that girl, we’re not, she’s not-”

“She’s not your girlfriend.” Valentina stated for him.

“Yeah.” Harry breathed, “she’s just a girl.”

Valentina studied him for a moment, “and if I model for you, she’s not going to get mad?”

“‘M not seeing her again, she’s got nothin’ to be mad about.” Harry said, watching Valentina’s reaction to his words. She did visibly relax a little, taking a deep breath that told Harry that this topic may have been something that had been on her mind.

“Okay. I’ll model for you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Harry beamed at her before he could stop himself, surprising them both with his enthusiasm. He hadn’t realized how important this was to him, how vital it was that she be the one he could base his project on. No one else could compare, and for a moment, Harry wondered if that statement applied to more than just his art, but he brushed it aside, “uh, wanna send me your schedule and we can figure out time?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“You, uh, you have my number right?” he rubbed at the back of his neck. They’d texted to meet that first day, then once when she told him when she was moving in, but other than that they hadn’t messaged each other. Harry didn’t talk to many people, so her contact stared up at him any time he opened his texting app, her name usually right under ‘fuck’ and it had always created an odd feeling in the pit of Harry’s stomach that he usually ignored.

“Yeah.”

“Cool, so, text me.” he said.

“I will.” she assured him, amused at his tone that implied the text was necessary for future communication, and they didn't live in the same apartment.

Harry bent down to pick up his food, “thanks again, for this.” he said as he moved to step into his room.

“Again, no worries.” Valentina assured him with a laugh.

They stared at each other for a moment longer before Harry closed his door and Valentina stood there for a few seconds before closing hers, shaking her head to herself. Wondering how in the world had she managed to snag such an odd roommate.

--------

“So a picture, a painting, and a sketch.” Valentina clarified.

“Yeah.” Harry said, popping a chip into his mouth. He was sitting on the kitchen counter, legs swinging slightly, watching Valentina read his notes on the plan for the project.

“Your constant is flowers.”

“Uh huh.”

“So… uh…” Valentina cleared her throat, “these ideas for every day things to take pictures of-”

“Want to get a photo of everything, even what m’ gonna paint or sketch, make it a little easier.” Harry stated, “but you’ll still have to pose-”

“That’s not a problem,” Valentina said, “I’m looking at this note that says bathtub.”

“Yeah.” Harry munched on another chip, the crackling of the potato as he chewed was too loud in the quiet apartment, “it’s everyday things and you like having baths.”

Valentina felt her skin flush, “I mean, I do but-”

“Wear a skin coloured thong and those nipple things.” Harry said, motioning to his chest area with the bag of chips.

“Nipple pasties?” Valentina asked.

“Yeah. Those.”

“You have a lot of different shots planned here.” Valentina pointed out.

“Yeah, figured I’d look at all the options and choose the ones that fit together best.”

“So how important to you is the bathtub shot?”

Harry thought about it for a moment, “pretty important.” he admitted, “if you don’t want to do it-”

Valentina took a deep breath, “No. let’s go for it. You have a vision and you’re an artist, wouldn’t want to step on your toes.”

Harry appreciated that. So much so that he felt his heart clench in his chest. She trusted him. Or, at the very least, she trusted his artistic eye, and that meant a lot to him. Most people were skeptical with Harry’s ideas. He was known for taking people out of their comfort zones if he was doing a project with them, which was one of the reasons he hated working with models, because they always questioned him and his vision. But not Valentina.

God, he adored her.

Harry set down his bag of chips, “so how much time do you have?”

“I have about two hours before I have to go study-”

“Want to get the bath picture done now? And we can do the other photos tomorrow?” Harry suggested.

“Uh…” Valentina thought about it for a moment then took another deep breath, “sure, why not.”

“Great, you go get changed, and I’ll start the water.” Harry jumped from the counter, “how hot do you like it?”

Valentina gnawed at her lip, allowing her mind to wander, if only for a brief moment, into the gutter to consider an alternative meaning to his words, “scalding.” she said finally, absentmindedly, earning a chuckle from Harry who disappeared into the bathroom.

In her bedroom, Valentina stripped and picked up a somewhat flesh coloured thong, stepping into it and pulling it into place. Her nipple pasties, which she had bought for certain backless dresses, were pressed to her skin firmly so they wouldn’t move out of place. Valentina looked at herself in the mirror, scrutinizing her every curve as one foot rubbed at the back of her calf anxiously.

Alas, she’d agreed to this. She slipped on a robe and hesitantly went to join Harry in the bathroom. He’d set up a chair right next to the tub, sitting on it as he tested the temperature of the water with a hand. His expensive looking camera was set on the sink counter, and he didn’t even look up as she entered, “should be warm enough.” he mused.

He sat up straight, turning to look at her for the first time and he noticed the robe, “shit, I’ll uh… give you space to take that off.” he said, standing as he realized how little he had actually thought this whole thing through.

Harry left the bathroom and Valentina eyed the door cautiously before removing her robe, stepping into the water that was somehow the perfect temperature. The water had a sort of white look to it and Valentina wondered if Harry had put something in it to make it opaque. Unsure exactly how to position herself in the large bath, Valentina rolled onto her stomach, her chest pressed to the cold tub as her arms held her up on the rim, her eyes on the door, “okay, you can come in.”

It took a moment but Harry entered, he looked a little distraught, and Valentina realized they were both uncomfortable with the situation at hand. Harry took one look at her half submerged body, the way her beautiful tan skin looked against the white water, and he took a shuddery breath, “Pink.” he stated.

“Pink?” Valentina asked.

“Yes.” Harry ran a hand through his hair, staring directly at her while his mind worked out a plan, “you stay here, I need to go get a bath bomb from that store down the street.” he stated, “and the flowers I bought, they’re all wrong, won’t match your skin tone. I’ll be back. Don’t move.” he commanded, voice strong and dominant, something unexpected from the usually quiet artist.

Valentina nodded, watching as Harry turned and swiftly grabbed his jacket from the kitchen. A few seconds later she heard the apartment door shut, and Valentina took a deep breath, turning onto her back so she could relax in the water while she waited for him to return with whatever products he deemed necessary for the photo shoot.

Valentina found herself in a peaceful half slumber, enjoying the warmth of the water that cocooned her nearly naked body, and the sunshine coming through the window. So at ease, Valentina almost missed the sound of Harry’s return, sitting up hastily, an arm covering her chest as he entered the bathroom with a bag in one hand and a bouquet in the other.

Valentina’s wet fingers came to brush a stubborn strand of dark hair from her face, the tendril having escaped from her messy bun, “flowers for me?” she asked enthusiastically, hoping to lighten the awkward mood with a joke, “Harry, you shouldn’t have.”

He tilted his head at her and for a moment she was worried he hadn’t understood her joke, but then he said “don’t think I’ve ever heard you say my name before love.” and Valentina suddenly looked just as thoughtful as he did.

She remembered the first time she’d said his name. Sitting on the grass with Bethany, looking up her elusive roommate on instagram. “You’re right.” Valentina confessed, “I guess I haven't.”

“Sounds nice. Coming from you.” Harry said as he sat on his chair next to the tub, setting the flowers down gingerly as he reached for the bag to pull out two pink bath bombs.

Without another word, Harry plopped the bath bombs into the water, creating a small splash that had Valentina pulling away, legs rising, more skin showing as her knees came above the water. Harry’s eyes locked on the newly exposed flesh and his mouth began to feel weird, making him swallow thickly as he studied the beautiful colour of Valentina’s skin, all shiny from the water and looking so smooth and inviting, as if begging for his touch.

The water was quickly turning pink, and the blossoming colour drew Harry’s eyes from his model, his eyebrows furrowing as he studied the changing water. He picked up the bouquet of wildflowers he’d found, considering colour scheme and how nice each flower would look on a pink background or next to Valentina’s lovely skin.

Harry had a knack for keeping plants alive, those growing on her terrace being a testament to that fact, but he’d be damned if he knew the actual name of any of the flowers he was looking at in that moment. He chose yellows and whites, enjoying the soft, delicate colours and how they looked as he set them into the water next to Valentina’s skin, who watched him carefully place the flowers.

Valentina didn’t realize she was holding her breath, biting down on her lip as she held completely still while he worked, until Harry looked up at her, “you okay?” he asked, noticing the tension and rigidity in the way she was holding herself.

He was leaning over the tub, so close to Valentina that she could feel his breath against her skin, creating goosebumps as she looked into his green eyes, “yeah, I, uh… do I have to stay still for this?”

“Got a good camera love, any motion won’t be captured.” he assured her, leaning back from the tub to give some distance as he grabbed at the camera.

“So do you have any poses you want me to do?” Valentina asked awkwardly, holding herself tighter with the arm that covered her chest which only pushed up her boobs more, something Harry most definitely noticed by the way his eyes flickered down then up again.

He cleared his throat, “a little of every position if you don’t mind, figure it’s better-”

“To take more than you need than not enough.” Valentina finished for him, understanding completely as she positioned herself a little better. Her interruption earned a small smile from Harry who wasn’t used to people finishing his sentences for him, but part of him enjoyed the fact that she knew what was on his mind, most people didn't.

Harry began to take pictures, looking for every possible angle, finding ways to use the natural light to his advantage as he moved around the room, studying the way Valentina’s skin lit up from different perspectives. He immersed himself in his craft, truly enjoying and finding solace in the process, the steps taken to get the best shots he could.

Little commands left his lips effortlessly, and Valentina gracefully followed every instruction as if listening to Harry and following his vision was second nature. It was the easiest photo shoot Harry had ever done in his entire life, and as he looked at the pictures, he gnawed on his lips absentmindedly.

Harry wasn’t the type to ever get distracted while working on his craft, but there was something about Valentina that was setting his pulse racing like nothing he’d ever experienced. His jeans were beginning to feel tight as Harry got a few of the last shots he wanted, pictures of her sitting up, head turned slightly as the camera got a nice glimpse of beautiful, delicate, slender shoulders that Harry wanted to mark up with little love bites.

A small strand of black hair fell out of place, and before Harry could help himself, he was reaching out to adjust it, his fingers brushing against one of Valentina’s high cheekbones as he moved the tendril behind her ear. Her eyes caught Harry’s and they looked at each other for a few moments before Harry forced himself to move away, getting the last, beautiful, picture.

“Are we done?” Valentina asked when Harry went to sit on the sink countertop, looking down at his camera as his eyes scanned through some photos.

“Yeah.” Harry mumbled, too enthralled with the model on his screen to talk to the girl who was sitting in the tub right in front of him. He couldn’t look at her. He was afraid what would happen if he did. He was afraid that his words would catch, that his palms would get sweaty, that his mouth would get dry. He was afraid of how his body would react, beyond his control, yearning for his roommate.

“Can- can you pass me a towel?”

Harry’s eyes flickered up, and he sat frozen for a moment before grabbing at the seafoam blue towel she always used, handing it to her. He turned to look at his camera again as she stood from the bath, but he couldn’t help but admire her from his peripheral vision as she wrapped the towel around her body, securing it closed at her chest.

A long, beautiful, tan leg stepped out of the tub and onto the floor mat, and Harry had to fight hard not to appreciate the way droplets of water glistened against her skin, “thanks.” he mumbled, “for being my model.”

“Yeah, no worries.” Valentina said, “just uh, can you send me some? The good ones?”

“Yeah.” Harry nodded, not looking up as she left the bathroom. His eyes scanned the pictures he’d taken on the small camera screen and he sighed, if he sent her all the good ones, he’d be sending her all of them.

--------

It was a late September day and the New York sky was covered in distressed looking clouds. Harry had decided on skipping his morning watering of the terrace plants after a quick look at the weather forecast promised mid afternoon showers.

Feeling anxious about the photoshoot, Harry had slipped on a hoodie and some jeans, going to stand outside of Valentina’s room. He waited a few moments before awkwardly knocking on her door, earning a “come in!”

Taking a breath, he pushed open the door. Valentina was standing in front of her closet, the silky, floral robe from yesterday wrapped around her body, “what colours should I wear?” she asked, eyebrows furrowed as she scanned the clothing in front of her, “you seemed to like yellow, pink and white yesterday, but I don’t want to overstep and assume you’re keeping up that palette for the whole shoot thing.”

“Can I-” Harry began to ask, wanting to come further into Valentina’s room to get a better look at the options, but not knowing how to just ask for permission.

Valentina looked up at him, realizing what was on his mind immediately, “yeah, come look.” she said, moving over to give him space to stand in front of her closet as he awkwardly shuffled through her room, hands shoved into the front pocket of his hoodie.

“I like the plaid pants you always wear.” Harry mused, searching for them with his eyes, “and the tight black turtleneck. You always pair it with those little wedged black ankle boots and that long fawn coloured duster.”

Valentina looked over at Harry in shock, having not realized he paid so much attention to her outfits.

“With your hair in a messy bun and your glasses, and that little hat you wear sometimes.” he thought about it for a moment, eyebrows furrowed as he stared at her clothes but he wasn't looking at the clothes, mind lost in the idea of Valentina, “no, not the hat, I like your hair.”

“Okay.” Valentina said, “I’ll put on that outfit then, but uh… I don’t really need glasses except for when I’m reading-”

“Then skip the glasses. And we should leave soon yeah? Might rain later.” Harry said, anxiety evident in the tone of his voice.

“Sure, give me five minutes.” Valentina said, watching Harry leave and close the door behind him.

He paced in the living room, one hand mussing up his wild, bed disheveled curls, while he held his camera protectively with the other. Harry figured they might as well take a bunch of shots to give him ideas, he’d choose what pictures would become what medium later, but as of that moment, he just needed to beat the rain.

--------

Harry was once more blown away with how effortlessly Valentina posed for his pictures. Harry knew he wasn’t easy to work with, some commands were so miniscule, the slightest tilt of Valentina’s head, but she complied to every single request beautifully.

The park was fairly deserted, and Harry attributed that to the fact that the clouds were gradually getting darker, setting him on edge as he eyed them every few minutes.

A few times, Harry caught himself just watching Valentina, camera forgotten in his hands as she walked down a cute rocky path with her hands in her pockets for a shot. He wanted to take pictures, but looking at the camera almost took something away from the reality of it all, and it was, oddly enough, starting to annoy Harry who had never felt that way before.

He’d brought the bouquet and gave it to Valentina for a few pictures, but there was something a little off about it. “Do you mind if-” Harry began and Valentina nodded immediately.

“Do whatever you need.” she said, eyes on him as Harry reached to pull her hair out of the messy bun. He ran his fingers through the thick, dark hair, reveling in how silky and beautiful it was as he tamed the half waves that were a result of the bun that he’d just dismantled. Once he was satisfied with the look, he plucked a pretty pink flower from the bouquet and settled it into Valentina’s dark locks, making sure it was sturdy before he gave her a once over, nodding with satisfaction.

He’d taken a few pictures when a rumbling sound made both Valentina and Harry look towards the sky, “shit.” Harry cussed immediately, the first rain drops already beginning to darken the cement pathway in spots, “we should go back before-” there was another loud sound of thunder, and a crack, then the rain started coming down harder.

Both Valentina and Harry began to run for cover immediately, Valentine a few feet ahead of Harry as they bolted for the trees. In those brief moments of caos, Valentina running with her long black hair swishing through the air, the flower still perfectly situated, her face half turned to make sure Harry was behind her, jacket billowing out beautifully, bouquet in one hand, half forgotten as she ran, Harry captured a few pictures.

As soon as they were under the cover of a tree, Harry put away his camera, making sure there was no water damage before he looked up at Valentina. Her hair was already a little wet, a few dark tendrils attached to her forehead and cheek, “we should have brought umbrellas.” she mused, collecting her hair again to put up in a ponytail. The flower that had been so perfectly situated amongst Valentina’s dark locks fell and landed at Harry’s feet, he stared at the meek pink petals, damaged by the rain.

Harry hummed in response, looking out at the parts of the path that were exposed to open sky. The loud patter of raindrops colliding with the earth made Harry’s skin prickle, or perhaps that was caused by a large water droplet running down from his throat to his spine. Harry rubbed the back of his neck in an effort to clear away some of the water, grimacing at the sight in front of him, they’d have to make a run for it and they both knew it.

“On three?” Harry suggested finally, turning to look at the beautiful girl beside him.

She nodded, looking determined.

“One.” Harry began, Valentina joined in on the “two.” and at “three” she grabbed his hand, the two of them scurrying out from under the cover of the trees as they made a run for the street. Harry stopped abruptly and pulled Valentina to a halt as he looked both ways before crossing, not having a death wish like the girl beside him who had looked completely content with bolting across and hoping for the best.

Once on the other side, they stuck close to the buildings, getting some cover from awnings and restaurant canopies as they made their way back to the apartment. Harry gripped Valentina’s hand tightly, despite the rain making both of their palms wet and slippery.

Other souls, with rain jackets and umbrellas, parted for Harry who looked like he was on a warpath, Valentina in his wake as he wove through the people on the street. Harry was getting cold, the rain having already soaked through his grey hoodie, his strong shoulders feeling the first of what felt like death's grasp as his teeth began to chatter. His free hand came up to push some wet curls from his face, and he turned to look behind him, able to feel Valentina there but wanting to get a glimpse of her face to see if his fast pace was alright with her.

She flashed him a smile, looking remarkable even amidst the fact that she was soaked, rain dripping down her face like tears that Harry realized he never wanted to see.

They picked up their pace a little as they neared the apartment, pulling into the alcove as a sanctuary from the rain as Harry took his hand away from Valentina’s, fingers shaking while he pulled out his keys. He fumbled with the door for a moment, feeling his entire body spasming from the cold as Valentina gently took the keys, managing to get the door open. Harry held it wide so she could slip through first, under his arm, then they ran up the old wooden stairs. Harry knew they were probably leaving puddles, but he didn’t care, all he cared about was reaching the apartment and the shower that awaited him.

Harry was practically buzzing out of his skin, rolling back and forth on the balls of his feet as he watched Valentina open the door to their apartment, both of them rushing in as soon as they could, heading towards the bathroom.

“Fuck.” Harry said, realizing one of them would have to wait for the other to shower first. He’d gotten used to living alone for many years, and this was the first time there would be an issue over usage of a common space since Valentina had moved in.

Valentina must have heard Harry’s cussing because she turned to look at him, frowning as she came to the same realization Harry had moments before. She turned to look at him, watching him set down his camera on the couch next to the bouquet she’d tossed down seconds before. He looked like a mess, skin pale, whole body shivering, grey hoodie about four shades darker than normal, a small puddle already forming at his feet, and a decision was made immediately, “come shower with me.” she stated, grabbing his hand for the second time that day.

“What?” Harry’s eyes widened as he stumbled after her, dragged along by the determined looking opera singer.

“You’ve seen me practically naked already, and you look really cold, come shower with me.” she stated again as they entered the bathroom, already moving to turn on the shower and get the hot water started. Valentina let go of Harry’s hand to pull off her jacket, leaving it on the floor as her hands found the bottom of her black turtleneck, dragging it over her head.

Harry swallowed thickly, eyes taking in the pretty black bra and the newly exposed skin that he longed to reach out and touch. He wondered if the skin on her abdomen would be as soft as it looked, wondered how beautiful it would feel to trace the curve from her waist to hip bone-

“You are shivering!” Valentina said again, snapping Harry out of his daze as she grabbed at the bottom of his hoodie, “take this off before you catch cold.”

Harry allowed Valentina to pull it off of him, leaving him in a white vneck that was also soaked through, exposing his black tattoos that almost seemed to press up against the material, begging to be adored and explored by the beautiful girl in front of him.

Valentina stopped and suddenly Harry wasn’t shuddering anymore, in fact, his skin felt like it was on fire as Valentina’s eyes wandered over Harry’s form, unabashed and unafraid.

Her gaze flickered up to Harry’s and she could feel his breath on her face, realizing how close they were standing. She licked her bottom lip subconsciously, body reacting to the man in front of her before her mind could even process what she was doing. Harry noticed the small movement immediately and he looked at her lips for a moment before his eyes went up to hers again.

He didn’t think. Nothing ran through his brain, no thoughts, no fears, no worries, he just reached out and grabbed her face, bringing his lips to hers. Harry noticed first how cold she was, her lips tasted like summer rain and Harry melted against her, pressing his body closer as her fingers looped in the waistband of his jeans. He wanted to warm her up, tongue gliding across her lower lip before he sucked it into his mouth, earning a soft sighing sound that made his heart race even faster in his chest. He wanted to touch her hair, to feel it again, and within moments he’d managed to slip off the hair tie, releasing the heavy locks that tumbled down to her shoulders, ready for his eager fingers.

Her hands were cold, digits brushing against his bare abdomen that had been exposed when she’d lifted his shirt a little, and Harry hissed, pulling away from her slightly to escape her wandering touch.

Valentina opened her eyes, looking up at him with a smile, “your lips are turning blue.” she teased, reminding Harry again of the cold that had seeped through his skin and was threatening to clutch at his bones. “Come on.” she said, stepping away from him as her fingers went to her belt, undoing it so she could slip down her plaid pants. Harry watched her, eyes devouring her half naked body, nothing but a little matching black thong and bra keeping her from him.

She went to the shower, back turning to Harry as she tested the water, and he got a good view of her backside. He’d seen it before, having taken a few more risque shots in the tub the day before, but in this context, it was different. His hands fumbled with his own jeans and his shirt, pulling them off and tossing them to the floor next to Valentina’s wet pile of discarded clothing.

Harry hurried to join Valentina in the medium sized shower, he’d spent a lot of money on an expensive rainshower head so it would cover his whole body, and he’d never appreciated it more in the three years since he’d gotten it than he did in that moment. Pulling the door shut behind him, he got as close to Valentina as he could without touching her, unsure whether one kiss merited anything more, especially with them both almost naked in a shower.

Valentina sensed that he’d entered the hot stream of water and turned to look at him, which was hard to do since she had to tilt her head up and keeping her eyes open against the steady drops was not something her body was keen on doing. Harry grinned, head dipped down as he looked at the shorter girl in front of him.

Giving up, Valentina closed her eyes, reveling in the feeling of him being there as her hands came up to interlock behind his head, forearms resting on his shoulders as she pulled him close until their chests were touching. Her head dipped, forehead resting on the spot just between his collar bones at the base of his throat, and Harry pressed his cheek against the top of her head, his hands settling on her waist to keep her close.

The shower was quickly filling with steam and the hot water was relaxing Harry, his skin turning a light shade of pink as it reacted to the temperature. The muscles that had been so tense in his shoulders unknotted as he enjoyed the feeling of his hands on Valentina’s small waist, the curve there was just as he’d imagined it to be, he could trace it forever with his fingers.

There was something about the embrace that felt so familiar, which didn’t make any sense to Harry because he usually wasn’t a hugger. In fact, he hadn’t hugged a girl in, well, he couldn't remember the last time exactly. But he knew that whenever it was, it had not felt like this. He was holding onto Valentina and he never wanted to let go, he felt more at home with her arms around him than he ever had in the apartment that he was thanking god he’d been forced to open up to her. It felt so right. Harry wanted to live in the shower with her forever, wanted to exist solely in that moment for the rest of his life.

Then Valentina was moving and Harry wanted to groan, wanted to tell her please stay like this with me forever, please stay, but then her lips were meeting his and he realized perhaps this is where he wanted to be forever. He thought the embrace had been heaven and it had been, but this was something more, this was something indescribable, and it left his mind blank as he revelled in the feeling of her lips against his.

Her fingers came up to tangle in his wet curls, and a slight pull had Harry groaning into her mouth, his black briefs straining to keep him contained. Harry forced himself to pull away, resting his forehead against hers as he caught his breath, water streaming down both of their faces. Valentina looked up at him, noticing the way small droplets of water clung to his long, dark, pretty lashes as he met her gaze under heavy lids, green eyes almost fully obscured by lust filled pupils.

“You’re so pretty.” she mused, brushing the pads of her fingers against a cheekbone she’d been aching to touch since the day she met him.

He nuzzled his face against her hand, breathing deeply, “you’re the pretty one love.”

Valentina felt a blush rising on her skin and she looked down, noticing his briefs for the first time, and, more particularly, the fact that Harry was hard as a rock beneath them. She swallowed a lump in her throat, mind reeling at the whole situation.

She’d kissed her roommate.

She was half naked in the shower with her roommate.

She was considering sleeping with her roommate.

If there was one thing Valentina knew, it was that shower sex was not something she enjoyed. Gorgeous roommate or not, she was not about to have sex with someone in a shower and prove, yet again, that water was, in fact, not lube.

Before she knew what she was doing, Valentina was exiting the shower, leaving Harry confused and alone under the stream of hot water.

She wrapped a towel around her chest, awkwardly slipping out of her bra and panties while still covered with the fabric as Harry poked his head out of the shower, “did I do something wrong?” he asked, looking so innocent and sweet, cheeks twinged red, eyes full of concern.

“No.” Valentina assured him, putting her hair up in a second towel “I just- shower sex. Not a fan.”

Harry seemed to consider it for a moment then nodded, “right.” he said, still confused by the interaction.

“But… the bedroom-” Valentina’s voice was soft. So soft, Harry almost missed it as he began to shut the door to the shower. He stopped. Wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him as he stood there.

Poking his head out again he eyed her, “go to my room, I’ll join you in a mo’ yeah?”

Valentina bit at her lip and after a moment, she nodded, leaving the bathroom to go to see Harry’s room for the first time while he finished up in the shower and tried to steady his racing heart beat.

Pushing the door open to Harry’s bedroom, Valentina’s curious eyes ate up everything in front of her.

Two large windows illuminated the room in a sort of grey hue, the rainclouds outside were even stormier than before, and the sound of rain hitting glass filled the space with a soft ambiance that made Valentina’s skin prickle. It was messy, but it was a sort of organized chaos that Valentina was beginning to realize was a bit of a Harry staple. As she’d seen the first day, a mattress was on the floor, a white duvet crumpled up on the middle, Valentina wondered if Harry had troubles sleeping.

She almost missed the piano, as it was have obscured by clothes and a record player sitting on top of its closed lid. It looked like either a baby or medium grand piano and Valentina’s fingers began to feel like they were buzzing. She’d grown up playing, but hadn’t played since she moved to New York for university.

Clutching her towel tighter around her body, she approached the piano, careful to step over the things that marred the floor. The keys were a little dusty, as if it hadn’t been played in a while, and Valentina knew this was true, she would have heard it if Harry had played it while she was in the apartment.

There was bench that she sat on gingerly, pushing a comfy looking hoodie out of the way to do so as her fingers stretched over the keys, mind flipping through all the songs she knew.

The song began before it had really registered in Valentina’s brain that she’d chosen something, but as soon as the familiar notes filled the room, her shoulders relaxed, a smile playing across her face as she immersed herself in the music. She ignored the cold of the piano pedal against her bare foot, wanting to do the music justice.

Movement flickered in her peripheral vision and she looked up, noticing the massive mirror she’d suspected was somewhere in his room for a while. Harry was in the doorway behind her, his image reflected through the old looking, golden framed mirror. He had a camera in his hands and he was taking pictures of Valentina. Her skin heated up immediately, and she stopped her movements, the music cut off abruptly as she turned to look at him, “hey!”

“What?” he asked, a small smile appearing on his face as he lowered the camera, looking at her.

“You’re taking pictures.”

“So?”

“So…” she struggled to find a good reason for him not to take pictures of her but came up empty, sighing loudly as she instead decided to focus on his tattoos. Her eyes scanned his torso, looking at the birds and the butterfly on his stomach.

Figuring her hair would be less damp, she removed the towel from her head, releasing her black tangle of curls that cascaded down her back.

Harry watched her motion, itching to capture the beauty of it with his camera, wanting to have it forever, to look at over and over again when he was bored. The towel landed on the floor amidst his clothes but it made Harry smile, the act of tossing the fabric aside like she belonged in his room was something marvelous to him, making his breath catch in his throat.

“Didn’t know you played piano.” Harry mused instead, walking into the room to set his camera down on top of the piano next to the record player.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me I guess.” Valentina said, returning her gaze to the pretty white keys that her fingers tested gently, creating soft music that filled the room like it belonged there, mingling with the soft percussion of the rain on the windows.

“There’s a lot I want to know.” Harry said, walking over to the closet.

Valentina focused on the piano, giving Harry some privacy as he slipped on some grey sweats. Then he came up behind her, leaning over her as his arms went loosely around her front, “gonna show me some notes love?” he asked, breath on her ear and neck creating goosebumps that ran rampant across her skin.

Valentina took one of his hands, settling it on the keys, placing each finger. “Press this one.” she said, applying a little bit of pressure as he followed the command. She continued this for a few more notes until he could play the start of ‘Heart and Soul,’ which was one of those songs that Valentina supposed anyone could learn.

“Wait. If you have a piano, don’t you play?” she looked up at him and he smirked.

“Caught me.”

“Hey!” she laughed, tearing her hands away from his as she shoved backwards at his thigh to get him to move away, “not funny.”

“‘S sorta funny.” Harry said, collapsing down onto his bed as he watched Valentina sit at his piano. His left arm went behind his head to prop himself up and Valentina got a nice view of all the other tattoos she hadn’t seen before.

He looked relaxed, lounging on his bed like a large, dark cat with mischievous green eyes to match. An odd thought crossed Valentina’s mind while she watched him, wondering what it would sound like to make him purr, but she shook it away, turning to look at the piano again.

Even not looking at Harry, she could feel his eyes on her and turned to gaze at him, smiling, “why do you look at me so much?”

“Cuz you’re gorgeous pet.” Harry answered immediately, offering a shy grin, “m’ an artist after all.”

She tilted her head at him, thinking about his words. Valentina definitely had noticed there was something that set him apart from other guys she knew. His attention to details. The way he looked at her, noticing everything. It had made her uncomfortable at first, feeling like she was being judged the moment she met him in the coffee shop the month before, but she’d gotten used to it. Sitting on the piano bench in Harry’s chaotic room, his eyes watching her as they always did, she realized perhaps having his attention wasn’t a bad thing. He wasn’t judging, not really, and if he was, he was enjoying what he was seeing, a thought that made Valentina’s heart flutter in her chest.

With a loud sigh, Valentina stood, carefully approaching Harry who immediately made room for her on the bed. She sank to her knees and, after a moment's hesitation, laid down next to Harry, using his bare chest as a pillow as their legs tangled like they’d done it a hundred times before. Harry enveloped her with his body, breath steady against the top of her head, skin warm under her touch. Sneaking a glance up at him, she once again took the time to appreciate how beautiful he was and after a moment, he laughed, seemingly uncomfortable being under her gaze.

“Not so easy being looked at is it?” Valentina teased, earning a chuckle as he stared up at the ceiling.

“Guess not.” he admitted.

“So…” Valentina trailed off, knowing what she wanted to ask but not knowing how to ask it.

“So.” Harry echoed, lost in his own tumultuous thoughts that rivaled the chaos of the storm pattering about outside the window.

“We live together.”

“We do.”

“And…” Valentina struggled to find the words, “I don’t want there to be issues if something happens between us-”

“Something bad.” Harry clarified.

“Yeah. Something bad.” Valentina reiterated, “because we live together.”

The room was quiet aside from the sound of the rain and the soft breaths Harry took as he thought about what to say. Finally he rubbed at his eyes with a hand, blinking to clear his mind of an fogginess that might impair him as he struggled to communicate exactly what he was thinking, “you fit.” he sighed, that was not what he meant, “we fit. You don’t mind my two AM waffle runs or the fact that I blast music. You said yes to being my model, and don’t question me when I want to take a specific shot. You try to help me achieve my vision, and you look absolutely lovely doing it. You’re stunning. You’re smart. Your voice… I’ve paused my music to listen to you sing a number of times. The way you belt out lyrics when you think I’m not here-” Harry chuckled, “I like you a lot. And I don’t like most people. I know I’m awkward. I know it’s probably not easy, living here with me. But, I really like you. And if you don’t want to try something because we’re roommates, I will move out. I will.”

Valentina had been watching him the duration of his speech and she was taken aback by his words, by the serious determination in his eyes as he told her he would move if it meant even getting a chance at something with her.

“I really like you.” he said again, softer this time as his fingers ran through her hair, wrapping a strand around a digit as he finally looked down at her where she was propped up on his chest, “and if I’ve just made this weird then I’m sor-”

Valentina pressed her lips to his, cutting off the unneeded apology as she grabbed at his face. His hands went to her towel covered waist, pulling her on top of him as her legs straddled him, getting a better angle as she ground down against his grey sweatpants.

Harry still had a semi from the whole interaction in the shower, and all it took was one swivel of Valentina’s hips to have him groaning into her mouth again. His fingers dug into the towel that covered her body, the only thing keeping her from being fully naked on top of him. Fighting the urge to tear the fabric off, Harry brought a hand up to tangle his digits into her hair, but that only proved to make the situation even worse as he fought the need to tug on the strands and see if she enjoyed the tingling of pain just as much as he did.

He wasn’t a fan of not having control, and although Valentina was working magic with the way the motion of her hips sent shivers up his body, Harry could only stand being under her for so long before he grabbed her waist and threw her off of him, sliding between her legs again as his lips met hers hungrily. Her fingers went to try to get at Harry’s sweats, pushing them down slightly as he tore open the towel, a low sound vibrating through his chest as he looked down at her with eyes so dark and intense that Valentina almost felt something like fear, something like exhilaration, something that made her heart race in her chest like nothing she’d ever experienced in her life.

Now that she was naked, Valentina was even more eager to get Harry on a level playing field, once more tugging at his grey sweats in an effort to get them off so she could see exactly what she’d been dumb enough to live without all month. Before she could get them down, Harry sat up on his knees, taking in deep breaths as he looked down at her, running a hand through his hair.

“Condoms.” Harry stated as she fussed with the drawstring of the sweats, tearing his eyes from the beautiful girl underneath him whom he just wanted to look at, for ages and ages and ages.

“On the pill.” Valentina said, finally managing to get the knot of his joggers undone, pushing his sweats down to his knees. Harry swallowed thickly, eyes darting down to stare at Valentina. Any other girl and he wouldn’t risk it, any other girl and he’d question who else they’d fucked that week, but Valentina wasn’t any other girl. She was the girl. He knew she wasn’t the type to fuck around, and any inhibitions that would have made him pause, made him wonder, ‘is going in raw really worth the possible risk of having a baby?’ flew out the window. Besides, an apartment baby didn’t sound that bad.

Harry stared at the beautiful naked girl below him ,and as much as part of him wanted to just slip inside and ravage her like every other girl he’d ever had on his overly expensive mattress on the floor of his room, a bigger part of him just wanted to kiss her and praise her and make her feel good.

He brought himself over her again, supporting himself on his forearm as one hand slid up her body and his lips met hers again. Valentina’s legs wrapped around his waist urging Harry to do something, but he wanted to enjoy it, instead pulling away and slipping his fingers into her mouth.

He watched her with interest as she eagerly sucked at the two digits, swirling her tongue around them in a way that was making Harry’s body practically shiver with need for her. He could only hold off for so long, taking his fingers from between her lips and dragging them down her body, letting them leave a trail of wet that had Valentina’s skin prickling with goosebumps as her back arched off the mattress.

Before he could get his hand to where he wanted it to be, she grabbed his tattooed forearm, eyes opening to meet Harry’s questioning green ones, “no foreplay.” she stated, voice sounding the most certain and commanding he’d ever heard, and Harry wasn’t one to argue about a request like that. There’d be plenty of time later to do whatever he wanted to the girl he wanted to worship, but in that moment, he was willing to go to the end of the earth to do exactly what she wanted. And what she had so eloquently stated she wanted, was no foreplay.

Harry adjusted the way he was positioned over top of her, pressing his lips to hers as he pushed inside slowly, marveling at how wet she already was for him. She needed him just as much as he needed her and that was obvious by the way her nails dug into his strong shoulders, lips parting against his as a high pitched mewling sound made Harry groan in return. He gripped her thigh, hiking her leg up higher on his waist so he could get in deeper with each testing thrust.

“Please.” Valentina groaned, feeling him holding back in the way that the muscles in his shoulders were coiled, tense, on edge, body not having free reign to do what it did best: fuck a girls brains out.

“Wanna make this count.” Harry breathed, lips trailing up her neck and nipping at her jaw, wanting to taste the pretty skin he wanted to mark up so bad.

“It does count.” Valentina assured him, grabbing at his jaw to bring his face up, looking him dead in the eye as she brushed some of his dark, wild, curls from his face, “I like you. This counts.” her lips danced against his softly, still feeling his hesitation. Finally she cracked a grin at him, “you going to make me ride you or what?”

Harry laughed, burying his face in her neck, “not a chance.” he breathed, voice low as he kissed her throat softly one more time before his hands gripped her legs, holding her tight and anchoring her to the mattress as he finally let loose.

The sounds Valentina was making were like angels singing in Harry’s ear, urging him to continue, if not for his own euphoria, then for hers. Her pleasure that was so important to him, more important than anyone else’s happiness in Harry’s life, even his own. He cupped her face, somehow managing to kiss her both hard and soft at the same time. Although the action itself was a little rough, there was some sort of emotion emanating off of him in waves, something that engulfed Valentina in a warm and fuzzy feeling that told her she was safe in his arms.

His touches were soft, one of his hands trailing up her bare waist to tease her throat, fingers grabbing at her jaw as they kissed. She felt something patchy brushing against her sensitive cheekbone and she wondered if there was paint speckling his artist fingers, wondered if perhaps this was a constant for him, wondered if she could get used to the feeling of it against her skin.

Harry enjoyed touching her, enjoyed the way she scratched at his back, panting against his lips, and even as close as they were, he somehow wanted to be even closer. Grabbing at her arm and forcing it down above her head, he interlaced their fingers, pulling away from Valentina’s lips, just pressing his forehead against hers as they panted, eyes opening to look at each other.

It was strange for him. Harry wasn’t the type of guy to make love to girls, if you’d asked him the day before if he even knew how to incorporate that emotion into sex, he would have told you he had not a clue. And yet, there he was. Baring his soul to a girl who had bewitched every fibre of his being in a terrifyingly short amount of time.

With one hand pressed into the bed, fingers laced with Harry’s, Valentina used the other to grab at Harry’s curls, revelling again in how pretty his hair was. A small tug had Harry groaning, lips eagerly meeting hers again as their tongues clashed, teeth knocking a little, but not in an unpleasant way. The clumsiness was a sign of their mutual need, and it made both smile, chuckling against each others lips like young lovers who’d just shared their first forbidden kiss under the bleachers.

Valentina’s stomach fluttered, once more overcome by the heat and positive energy radiating off the beautiful art student buried inside of her. The clenching of her muscles had Harry practically melting in her arms, whole body shuddering as he panted against her mouth, “gonna cum if you keep doing that.” he warned her, kissing at her cheeks, nose, then finally her lips again.

“I’m close.” Valentina breathed, squeezing his hand in a way that felt something like permission.

Harry wanted nothing more than to continue, to fuck his beautiful room mate until his body physically couldn’t anymore, but damn, he’d never been so close to exploding in his life. Valentina was just so warm, so perfect, like she was made for him, and that little hand squeeze had his skin tingling, as if kissed by some higher power telling him to just give in to the pleasure engulfing his body.

His motions became faster, lips pressed against Valentina’s roughly as he chased his high, feeling her getting closer and closer with every thrust. She was squeezing his hand so tight that Harry wanted to growl, the slight pain sending electric shocks running up his arm and driving him wild.

Once again, he hiked her leg up on his waist, driving in as hard as he could as she clutched his hand like an anchor, finally falling over the edge and dragging him with her as they both moaned into each others mouths, bodies shaking together, enraptured in the feeling of euphoria that they’d created. Harry pulled away from her lips and Valentina’s eyes remained closed, chest pressing against Harry’s with each deep breath as she struggled to recollect herself. He moved off of being on top of her, laying next to her as he propped up his chin on the palm of his hand.

He studied her face, fingers once more dancing across skin. He itched to grab his camera, to capture the moment, to capture the image of the beautiful girl amidst his messy white sheets, skin flushed, eyes closed, lips parted, looking absolutely divine. There was something about her that was almost celestial, something otherworldly that took his breath away.

Ideas flashed in Harry’s mind, possible pictures of her he could paint. A goddess sitting on the moon, stars speckling the scene behind her. A sun crown on her head as she wades through a field of flowers. A galaxy cape afixed on her shoulders as she climbs the stairs to heaven, head turned to show her beautiful side profile, hair in that messy bun he loved so much-

Her eyes opened and all the ideas darted away, scurrying to hide from the steady gaze that made Harry’s heart sing. “Hey.” he said dumbly, hating himself the moment after the word left his lips.

“Hi.” Valentina beamed, laughing a little. The dimple on her left cheek showed and Harry’s chest hurt, brain working as he fought to remember if that tiny detail had been captured by his camera at least once earlier that day.

Now that they had both steadied their breathing, the sound of rain once more filled the room, a low rumble of thunder drawing Valentina’s gaze to the window. She bit at her lower lip before looking to Harry again, “I like the sound of rain.” she stated, almost absentmindedly, but there was something else to it.

Harry thought about her words, thought about whether or not the statement had been an attempt to strengthen their bond, as if him knowing more about her was a positive. Harry supposed it was, and he knew he’d remember that small detail, because for some reason, it mattered to him.

He liked that she liked the sound of the rain.

Valentina stretched her arms over her head and sighed loudly, rolling onto her stomach. Harry was then distracted by her pretty back, marveling in the gorgeous tanned skin and how soft it was under his wandering digits as he drew everything and nothing with the tip of his index finger.

“Can you play me some of your piano music?” Valentina asked, breaking the silence.

“Hmm?” Harry hadn’t been ready for a question directed at him, having not really processed her words, too distracted by her pretty skin under his fingers.

“Piano music. The stuff you listen to when you paint.” Valentina clarified, turning to look at him, “it always sounds so nice.”

Harry took a deep breath, not too keen on leaving the warmth of his bed, but he’d do anything to make Valentina happy so he grabbed his discarded sweatpants and pulled them on, standing to go look at the records he kept in a crate under the piano. He pulled the box out, sliding it across the floor with his foot so he could grab the most used record from the front of the bin. He placed it on the player and moved the needle, setting everything up so after a few moments the sound of classical piano flooded the space.

Harry’s eyes went to his box of joints next to the record player, and he snuck a look over his shoulder at the girl tangled in his sheets, noticing and appreciating the way she’d rolled onto her side, head propped up on her hand, the white covers haphazardly strewn about her body and teasing him with bits of flesh on her waist and chest as she watched him.

“Do you smoke?” Harry asked, realizing that he hadn’t offered her weed the day they’d bumped into each other on the terrace.

“Usually I don’t but if you’re offering-” she trailed off, grin returning to her face as Harry smiled, looking down and choosing a joint as Valentina took in his beautiful back.

He grabbed a cheap lighter he’d bought at a gas station and walked back to the bed, sitting next to Valentina, “do you want to start it or should I?”

Valentina sat up, holding the sheet around her body as she leaned against the wall, holding out two fingers for Harry to slide the joint between. She brought her lips to one end, looking up at Harry with a quirked eyebrow, waiting for him to light it for her. Harry chuckled, “bloody princess.” he muttered and she grinned around the joint that was so deliciously placed between her pretty lips.

He brought the lighter up and watched her inhale as he lit the joint, her cheeks hollowing marvelously as she inhaled deeply. Harry watched in something like awe as she exhaled, the smoke wrapping around them as she held the joint out to Harry. He accepted it and took a long drag, moving to sit next to her with his back against the wall.

They stayed quiet, listening to the piano and the rain, smoking together like long time friends who did this sort of thing every day. Harry felt completely at ease, brain going blank as he allowed himself to just be in the moment, which wasn’t something he did often. Harry was usually the type to be thinking too much, only managing to calm down when he smoked, but this was something he hadn’t experienced in years: relaxation.

And it felt fucking amazing.

--------

He’d gone to get the pictures printed first thing the next morning, rushing home through the storm so he could begin his work. Finally reaching his room, one look at the mess had made Harry set the folder of pictures down and begin cleaning, needing a cleared space for the project ahead.

Once his floor was completely free of anything and everything that would impede Harry’s artistic process, he began meticulously arranging the photos on the ground.

Perhaps having a gorgeous model hadn’t been the best plan. Harry felt attached to every perfect picture, every single shot that captured the beautiful dimple, or a smile, or light in her eyes that seemed to jump out at him.

He’d never had a muse before.

No one thing that inspired him.

But looking at all the wonderful pictures, Harry knew he could paint every single one and not grow tired for Valentina’s face.

Harry groaned, pulling out the piano bench so he could stand on it, getting a birds eye view of all the pictures in the hope that certain colours would stand out and draw him in.

Standing on the bench, a joint between his lips, looking down at all the images that were all (in their own way) stunning, Harry realized the issue with this project wouldn’t be getting the task finished, it would be narrowing the task down to just three.

--------

“Your hot roommate. The hot one you still haven't let me meet yet. That hot roommate. You slept with him.” Bethany said, still in a state of shock as she stared at Valentina, “and then you smoked a joint and listened to piano music.”

Valentina shrugged, reading her textbook with her eyes but the words weren’t registering in her brain.

“And how was it?” Bethany prodded, moving closer and lowering her voice after taking a look around at the people working quietly in the lounge.

Valentina laughed, finally looking up from her text book, “it was really good. Like… really good.”

Bethany squealed, grabbing at Valentina’s arm and earning a few harsh glares from people around them as Valentina quickly shushed her, giggling at her friends excitement and her own giddiness that was beginning to bubble like butterflies in her tummy. “So are you two going to date or fuckbuddies or-”

“I don’t know.” Valentina said honestly, “we didn’t really talk about it exactly.”

“Do you like him?”

“Yeah, he’s really nice.” Valentina said, feeling kind of shy about talking about Harry, who she’d kept sort of as a dirty little secret, just for herself, until this moment. She couldn’t hide the fact that she’d fucked her roommate from her best friend.

“But he’s still doing that art thing right?” Bethany pressed, eager for answers.

“Yeah, so we’ll see what happens.”

Bethany rolled her eyes, “we’ll see what happens.” she imitated lamely, “bitch, I better be your maid of honour, that’s all I can say.”

--------

“So I’m going to paint the bathtub photo, use the picture of your running in the park with the bouquet, and for the final piece, I’m going to sketch you sitting at my piano.” Harry explained.

“But when I was sitting at your piano there were no flowers-”

“I can draw them in.” Harry said, “gonna have them on top of the piano, dripping onto the ground. Besides, the flowers will be the obvious common element to every picture but there’s also water. Rain, bath, wet flowers.”

“Okay.” Valentina paused, “and you need me in the bath for the painting?”

“Honestly, I can probably do it based off the picture and get it mostly done, but there would be a few things I might need to see, but it’s not necessary if you don’t want to-” Harry was tripping over his words, and he knew that. He’d been a little on edge since they’d fucked, not really knowing how to feel or act around the girl who made his chest hurt whenever he looked at her.

“Yeah, uh, just let me know when you need me to get in the tub and we can make it work.” Valentina offered an easy going smile and Harry felt his shoulders relax immediately.

He was itching to ask about them, about what anything meant. But he was afraid of what she’d say. Afraid of rejection. He’d dished it out so many times before, but Harry knew he was too fragile in this case to be able to take it if he was finally going to be on the receiving end. So he kept his mouth shut, offering a brief explanation of time frames before scurrying to his room to begin the project he’d been dying to start since the day he’d seen her swirling amongst flowers and pink water in his four clawed tub.

--------

It felt like Harry had been blasting music for a week straight. Valentina hadn’t seen him, not even when she snuck out to the kitchen at 2 am in the hopes of running into him, covered in paint, hunched over the toaster watching his waffles cook. She wondered if he had even been eating, enraptured by the thought of Harry being a tortured kind of artist who couldn’t sleep or eat until completion of his work. Valentina also wondered when Harry even went to class, or perhaps he just kept his music playing while not in the apartment, but that seemed just a tad too obnoxious.

The weather had been bad for six straight days, so when the first rays of sunshine peaked through the clouds to say hello to New York, the wind breathing a sigh of warm relief across the city, Valentina immediately opened her window to take in a deep breath, engulfed in the smell and taste of the receding storm.

Valentina waited for the day to get clear enough, for the blue sky to finally win her over with its enticing beauty, and then closed up her textbook, walking to the window to climb out and enjoy the day on the terrace.

As soon as she stuck her head out, a puff of wind sent the smell of weed barrelling into her and she laughed, turning to look at Harry who was sitting there, wrapped in a hoodie and duvet, joint perched regally between his fingers.

“Great minds.” Valentina mused as she swung her legs out of the window, going to join Harry where he was sitting in front of his room. Harry looked up, immediately making room for her next to him on the blanket. As she sat, he held out the joint but Valentina declined it with a wave of her hand and a smile.

“So how’s the art going?” she asked, staring down at their legs that were almost touching. Valentina noticed something amidst the rips in his black jeans, something new. A tattoo. She wondered when he’d added that to his collection.

“Good.” Harry said, letting out a long puff of smoke as he twiddled with the joint between his fingers, Valentina noticing the pink speckling his digits for the first time. It looked like he’d used sharpies on his nails, the colour fading but matching the black of his oversized hoodie, the sleeves coming down like paws that half obscured his hands, leaving only his elegant, paint marred fingers, wrapped in rings.

There was a moment of silence and awkwardness, neither knowing how to act. Then Harry’s arm moved to settle around Valentina’s shoulders, pulling her close, and they both let out a sigh of relief, relaxing together immediately. Harry continued to fidget with the joint but his motions were more fluid, rolling it around before bringing it to his lips again.

They sat quietly for a while but, as it had the week before, it just worked. Harry once again found himself marveling at how well they clicked. In his weed relaxed hazy state, he found himself internally musing about her being the missing puzzle piece he hadn’t even realized he needed, only to hate himself for being so cliche. When had he stooped to such a level? Harry had always fancied himself to be, at least in some regard, somewhat sophisticated, but next to Valentina he had regressed to a school boy experiencing his first crush, brain becoming practically useless.

Harry turned so his nose was pressed against the crown of her head, inhaling the sweet smell of her shampoo. He’d seen it in the shower when she’d moved in, picking it up to study the bottle. Harry was feeling a little fuzzy, but he knew it was grapefruit and something, maybe sage or perhaps mint? He didn’t know, but it didn’t matter, she smelled wonderful and he’d always enjoyed that about her.

“Are you smelling me?” Valentina sighed, pulling away from his shoulder to look up at him.

Harry grinned lazily, taking the last drag of his joint before putting it out in his ash tray that sat a few feet away, “maybe.” he paused, “you smell nice.”

She smiled up at him, gaze darting between his eyes and his lips, even taking in the little dimples that appeared on his cheeks, “you’re kind of a dork.”

Harry chuckled, hand coming up to brush at Valentina’s cheekbone, “you love it.”

He was right. She knew he was.

Even as she shook her head at him, letting out a sigh as she readjusted herself, leg swinging over his so she was straddling his lap as his hands settled on her waist securely, she knew he was one hundred percent correct with his statement.

His hands snaked down further, grabbing at her ass and he smirked, making Valentina laugh, throwing her head back in defeat at his antics. Harry took the opportunity to sit up a little, lips just able to reach her neck as he peppered her skin in soft kisses that felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Her fingers tangled in his curls and she allowed him to kiss her, adoring every possible inch he could reach before she grabbed at his jaw, tilting his face up as she looked down so she could finally kiss him. He smiled against her lips, overcome in a euphoric sense of happiness that drowned out everything else in his life.

One hand came up to cup Valentina’s face, thumb brushing over her cheekbone as he kissed her. This kiss was soft, nothing like the fiery clash of teeth and tongues from the week before. Harry hadn’t ever really kissed a girl the way he was kissing Valentina, hadn’t thought to be soft and gentle, but this felt right, it felt (like everything else) natural. There was something endearing about the way that they were both struggling not to smile against each others lips, torn between the need to kiss and the overwhelming happiness that threatened to turn them into matching cheshire cats.

Valentina ground down against Harry’s lap and he groaned into her mouth, hand gripping her ass harder, wanting to rip the material of her silky sleeping pants, wanting to tear them off of her and ravage her there on the terrace.

Someone whistled loudly from the alley below and a “get it!” made Valentina pull away from Harry, looking down at the men who were casually walking towards the street, flashing two thumbs up at the happy pair who had been so enraptured with each other that they’d forgotten about the outside world.

“Piss off!” Harry called down at the men, earning some wild laughter as the men reached the street an turned the corner, disappearing from sight.

Valentina looked down at Harry who returned her gaze, paint speckled fingers once more rubbing soft circles against her cheek, “so.” she breathed, “are you going to ask me on a date or what?”

Harry beamed, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, “now who’s the dork?”

***

masterlist :)

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dlwritings · 4 years

Text

My Princess | Peter Parker (pt 3)

masterlist found here

pairing - Peter x reader word count - 2,843 warnings - oral (f receiving), clumsy first time sex A/N - for the anons who requested a part 3! | Peter and reader are both 18 in this

summary - You and Peter finally have your moment.

(part 1) (part 2)

Your morning hadn’t gone to plan. You had stupidly forgotten that it was Saturday and you were scheduled to work. You worked at a small coffee shop that your aunt owned only on the weekends, so you couldn’t call in and fake sick. Peter was devastated. “(Y/N),” he whined as you rushed around your room to get ready.

“I’m sorry, Pete,” you said, pulling your t-shirt off and putting on your bra. You tugged off your underwear and put on a clean pair before standing in front of your closet, pushing through your clothes trying to find something to wear. You weren’t even aware of Peter watching you, so you jumped out of your skin when you felt his hand on your waist. He reached into the closet and grabbed a hanger, pulling out a brown corduroy skirt with buttons that you knew he liked. You nodded and paired it with some black tights and a skin-tight black long sleeve turtleneck, tossing the outfit on quickly.

“Can’t you call her?” he asked as you sat in front of the mirror to do your makeup.

“No, I really can’t,” you said, applying your mascara. “She needs me on the clock. I’m the only one there at this time of day.”

“What am I supposed to do all day?” Peter asked.

“Homework?” you teased, glancing at him in the mirror reflection. “Superhero duties?” Peter groaned dramatically and fell back on your bed. You giggled and finished up your hair and makeup before walking over to the bed. You crawled over to him, straddling his waist and putting your hands on either side of his head. He let out a sigh and put his hands on your waist.

“Don’t do this to me,” he said.

“Do what?” you said, gently grinding your hips against his. You had a playful smirk on your face as he gently guided your hips against his.

A second alarm went off on your phone, signalling that it was time for you to leave. Peter tried to get you to stay, but you pushed yourself away from him and got off the bed, straightening your outfit and giving him a smile. “Be here when I get back?” you said. His eyebrows raised as you smiled knowingly at him. He nodded back, so you grabbed your purse and headed out the door.

Peter left your house soon after you did just so he could go home, shower, and change. On the way, he was buzzing with plans for the evening. Tonight was the night. He knew. The night before and that morning were just the opening acts. This was the main event. How could he make it as perfect as possible?

When he got to his apartment, May was home. “Have a good night at the compound?” she asked as soon as he walked in. That’s where he had told her he was. Not with you.

“Mhm,” he hummed casually. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”

When he got out and was changed and ready, he packed a new bag for the night -clothes for the morning, clean boxers, toothbrush and toothpaste, and everything else he’d need. “May!” he called as he started to leave. “I’m gonna be out all day. Spending the night at the compound again! Don’t wait up!”

“Use protection!” May called back. This made Peter freeze in his tracks. He turned to see her standing in the kitchen, her arms folded across her chest.

“W-What, uh, what are you-” He mirrored her position and laughed awkwardly. “What are you talking about?”

“Please, Peter,” she laughed with a roll of her eyes. “I wasn’t born yesterday.” Peter rubbed the back of his neck, feeling his cheeks heat up, as he turned back to the door to leave. “I love (Y/N),” May continued, “but I don’t want any grandkids yet.”

“Okay, bye, May!” he yelled.

“Make sure she pees after, or she’ll get a UTI!”

Before she could say anything else, Peter left the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

Yikes.

Peter had a lot of plans for the night. Dinner was involved as was… the main event. So, he made a run to the store to pick up the necessities before heading back to your place. Your shift at the coffee shop didn’t end until 5:00, and it was only 12:00. Peter decided to hang out around your house, not at all wanting to spend another minute with May. The five hours went by agonizingly slowly.

When Peter heard the front door open, he was in the middle of an episode of The Simpsons. He jumped up from the couch, pressing pause on the TV, and greeted you in the kitchen. You looked tired as you tugged off your heeled booties. You blew some hair out of your face as you looked up at him. “Hey, babe,” you said, letting out a heavy breath. Peter frowned slightly.

“Tired?” he asked, walking over to you and putting his hands on your waist. You wrapped your arms around his waist and hugged him, just wanting to feel him hug you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. “It was weirdly busy today.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling away from you. You gave him a smile.

“No worries,” you said. “Anyway, I’m hungry. What should we do for dinner?”

“I’ve got that covered,” he said, his smile lighting up. You quirked an eyebrow and followed Peter. You expected him to go to the dining room, but he ended up heading to your room. This only confused you further. When he opened your door, your own smile widened. On the floor, Peter had laid out a blanket. A few candles were lit around it, and he had ordered Chinese takeout.

“You’re amazing,” you said to him, placing a soft kiss to his lips. He smiled and tucked some of your hair behind your ear. “I’m gonna change first, okay?” Peter nodded, so you grabbed some clothes out of your drawers and went into the bathroom. You changed into some spandex and a Stark Industries hoodie you had once stolen from Peter. It was your go-to after work outfit, and it just so happened to be one of Peter’s favorite outfits on you.

He tried not to stare too obviously at your ass when you bent over to put your dirty clothes in your hamper. You joined him on the floor and started to dig into the food. While you did that, Peter turned on your TV. “Should I put on a movie?” he asked.

“Sure,” you said, sitting criss-cross-applesauce and shoving some chicken in your mouth. “How about that new one with Adam Sandler and Jennifer Aniston?”

“Murder Mystery?” Peter said. You nodded, so he clicked the title and immediately started eating the food as well.

By the time the movie was done, you and Peter had been finished with your food for a while and had migrated to the bed for some cuddles. You had your head on his chest and your hand on his stomach, and his arm was around you with his hand on your ass. You both sat and watched the credits, each too comfortable to move.

Peter finally grabbed the remote and shut off the TV, then looked down at you with a dorky smile. “Hi,” he said, leaning close to brush his nose against yours.

You giggled, “Hi.” Peter closed the distance between the two of you with a soft kiss that quickly turned more intense. You were desperate to get close to him, moving so you were sitting on his lap. His hands traveled under your sweatshirt. He was desperate to feel your skin against his in any capacity.

“Peter,” you whispered, willing yourself to pull your lips away from his.

“Hm?” he hummed, his eyes still closed.

“I want to do this.”

Peter opened his eyes at this and stroked your cheek with his thumb. “Yeah?” he said. You nodded. “Yeah,” Peter agreed. “I want to, too.”

Peter laid you down on the bed, slowly pulling your sweatshirt over your head. While the mere idea of having sex with you was enough to get Peter hard, he knew girls needed more foreplay. And that was fine by him. All he could think about was the pretty noises you were making yesterday and how sweet you tasted. He kissed across your chest, taking time to make both of your nipples hard. You were breathing heavily, squeezing your eyes closed at the feeling. You felt Peter leave a few hickies across your chest and neck, and you knew you’d be limited to turtlenecks and scarves until they were gone.

When Peter’s lips got to the waistband of your spandex, he pulled them down and found his mouth watering when he realized you weren’t wearing panties under them. “Mm, you were ready,” Peter teased, letting his breath fan across your lower lips.

“Shut up, Pete,” you breathed out. He laughed and kissed your clit before pulling back and rubbing your outer lips with his thumbs.

Peter loved the power he felt he had over you. He was fully clothed, yet there you were, naked and vulnerable and desperate for his touch. And you were only going to get what he was going to give you.

The thought made his dick twitch in his pants.

Peter pressed his mouth against your pussy, savoring your taste as you moaned above him. The noises his actions were making were borderline pornographic, and you were a moaning mess above him. While Peter continued eating you out, he slid a single finger inside you, pumping it slowly as you lifted your hips, desperate for more.

Your moan turned into a whimper of Peter’s name, and he couldn’t wait any longer.

Peter pulled away from you and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. You sighed and rested your hands above your head, staring up at him in anticipation. Peter reached into the pocket of his joggers and pulled out a condom. You took it from him so he could pull off his sweatshirt and kick off his sweats and boxers. You ripped the condom open, and he helped you put it on him.

“I- I, uh,” Peter stuttered. “I brought some lube too. It might, it might make it feel a little better.”

“Okay,” you said with a nod. Peter -slightly clumsily- got out of bed and grabbed the lube he had brought. He almost put some on his hand, but you reached your own out. “Can I do it?” you asked. Peter almost moaned at the pure, innocent look in your eyes as he nodded and handed you the lube. You took the lube, put some on your hand, and rubbed it up and down Peter’s shaft. He bit his lip and tossed his head back as you gently squeezed his cock and moved your other hand to play with his balls.

“(Y/N),” he said, reaching down to stop your movements. You looked up at him. “I, I’m not gonna last long if you keep doing that, okay?” You giggled slightly and nodded, placing a soft kiss to his lips.

The two of you got under the covers, and Peter hovered above you, brushing some hair away from your face. “You gotta let me know if, if something doesn’t feel good,” Peter said. “Or if you want to stop or anything like that.”

“Okay,” you said, nodding your head.

“And tell me what you want,” he said. “Like-”

“Peter,” you said, cutting him off and putting your hand on his cheek.

“Yeah?”

“I want you inside me right now.”

Peter let out a shaky breath and nodded. You cocked your head to the side and stroked his cheek with your thumb. “Pete?” you said.

“Mm?”

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“No, no, I do!” Peter said. “I just-” He sighed. “I just don’t want to fuck this up.”

“You won’t,” you assured him. He didn’t seem convinced, so you threaded your fingers in his hair and pushed his head down to yours, pressing your lips together. He seemed to relax into the kiss, and you smiled. “I love you,” you told him.

“I love you, too.”

Peter lined himself up with you and slowly thrust into you. You lost your breath, your mouth hanging open and your eyes shut. Peter took your hand and laced your fingers together, holding your hand to the mattress. Your other hand grabbed his bicep, squeezing it so tightly, you were probably leaving nail marks on his skin. “Are you okay?” Peter asked, letting out another shaky breath.

“Yeah,” you breathed out. “Just, just hang on a second.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Peter said. He leaned down to nuzzle his face in your neck, leaving soft kisses against your skin. You moved your hand that was on his bicep to his hair, letting your nails drag across his scalp. He let out a whimper and pressed another kiss to your neck.

“Okay,” you said softly. “You can move.”

“Okay,” Peter repeated. He slowly pulled out of you and pushed back in, trying to maintain a steady pace. He struggled to find his rhythm, and it was all a bit sloppy and awkward. But not in a bad way. In a way that reminded you that this was your first time, and Peter’s first time, and you got to experience that together. If anything, knowing that made everything feel even better. Peter groaned as your walls squeezed around him. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Mhm,” you hummed out, trying to focus more on the pleasure than the discomfort.

“What can I do?” he asked. You unlaced your hand from his and took two of his fingers into your mouth. He moaned as you sucked them softly, getting them wet before bringing them down to where your bodies connected. Peter got the not-so-subtle hint and started rubbing circles on your clit. He tried to focus on keeping up steady thrusts while also making sure his fingers were doing their job. When you let out a soft moan of pleasure, he figured he must’ve been doing a decent job.

“Oh, Pete,” you whimpered.

Maybe more than decent.

“How’re you doing, princess?” he asked.

“G-Good,” you stuttered. “Can you-” You let out a shaky breath. “Can you go faster?”

“My, my fingers or-”

“Both,” you said. “Please.”

Peter moaned at the desperation in your voice and started to quicken his movements, thrusting into you a bit faster and letting his fingers rub quicker circles. You moaned, digging your head back into the mattress. He wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to last, and truthfully, with the stimulation on your clit and the fact that Peter’s cock kept hitting so deep inside you-

“I think I’m close, Pete,” you whimpered. He moaned and pressed his lips to your neck again, trailing a few kisses down your chest.

“Me too,” he moaned. “Oh, fuck, (Y/N), I’m so close. Cum for me, princess. Wanna feel you, feel you squeeze my cock.”

“Shit, shit,” you whined. You grabbed Peter’s head and forced his lips against yours again. He pried your lips open, his tongue massaging yours. After a couple thrusts, you felt Peter twitch and cum inside you. That combined with a few more quick rubs of your clit triggered your own release. Peter held himself up, not wanting to fall on you, but you gently pulled his body down so he was laying on top of you. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, pressing delicate kisses to your skin as he softened inside you.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked, kissing directly below your ear.

“Mhm,” you hummed, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Made me feel so good, Pete.” Peter smiled against your skin, then leaned back so he could place a proper kiss to your lips.

Peter pulled out of you, tied off the condom, and got up to throw it away in the bathroom. When he got back to the bedroom, you were snuggled under the covers, and Peter’s heart warmed at the sight. “Princess?” he said, kneeling beside you and stroking your cheek.

“Hm?” you hummed back, not opening your eyes.

“Why don’t you get up and go to the bathroom?” he said. “May said-” He cut himself off just as your eyes popped open.

“May said?” you repeated, sitting up slightly. You tucked your hair behind your ears and tried to fight back a grin.

“I didn’t say that,” Peter said, standing up and grabbing his boxers off the floor.

“Yes you did!” you giggled. “Oh my god, did you tell May about this?”

“No!” he said. “She, she guessed?”

“Oh my god,” you repeated, pushing yourself out of bed. You grabbed Peter’s sweatshirt and pulled it over your head, then placed a quick kiss to his cheek. “You’re so lucky you’re cute, because you’re an absolute dork.”

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TAGLIST

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #smut #spiderman #spiderman imagine #spider-man #spider-man imagine #marvel #avengers #request

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typinggently · 4 years

Note

Okay hi I’m sorry, you don’t really write them anymore, but 4, 5, 10, 12, 15, 17, 23, and 24 feel super Napollya for me, especially with the way you headcanon them??? You don’t have to do any of them, let alone ALL of them, but...just some food for thought I suppose?

Ahhhh Babes!!!!! Thank you!!! Also - Joke’s on you!!! I spent a good half hour today watching Napollya videos and sighing about how much I miss these guys… I have a half-written thought post on the Mob Boys… I miss my boys…. SO! Let’s dO this!!!💕💛

4. winding the other up in public

I honestly think Napoleon would think he’s won that round. He’s sleazy-hot and Illya’s one single block of ice. So he thinks, right, he thinks he’ll be cute and mess with him a little. For fun. Because he’s a bastard man.

So he makes sure to press their thighs together under the the table (they’re probably at a bar with Gaby), puts a hand on Illya’s knee, sucks on the dripping olive of his martini, slipping some tongue in there, unbuttons the first few buttons of his shirt and touching his throat, his chest to direct Illya’s gaze. The whole nine yards.

But what Napoleon forgot is that all Americans are inherently prudish. Illya takes one look at him and says in Russian: “What are you doing, do you want to fuck?”

The bluntness.

Napoleon manags not to flush but it’s a close thing. He decides to play it cool (This is how Napoleon can still win). “What? Me? I think you’re projecting.”

Illya just hums, takes a sip of his drink. “I think you want to fuck right now, because you’re a needy, whiny attention whore.”

????!!!!!!

“I think you’ve had too much to drink.”

“Hm,” Illya says, all cool and collected. “Spread your thighs, then.”

And see. They’re still in public. Someone could happen to speak Russian. Napoleon should really stop by now. But. Is he going to lose? Hell no. So he huffs, all breezy American, and subtly spreads his thighs under the table. Whatever.

Instead of taking a glance and cheking that Napoleon’s totally not chubbing up in his trousers, though, Illya simply reaches over, doesn’t even look, and puts his hand on his crotch, squeezing him.

Napoleon’s cock twitches.

Illya hums and leans over to whisper in Napoleon’s ear, in English this time, voice dripping in mischief. “I win.”

When he pulls his hand back, Napoleon misses the warmth immediately. He’s also embarrassingly hard.

5. restraining the other

For that, I’m thinking Napoleon tying Illya up. There’s something to be said about all that power being held down in some way.

And see, Illya’s been traind for this. He can withstand being shackled with heavy-rusty handcuffs and questioned with blood on his teeth. However.

However, he’s not trained for a situation where his wrists are bound with silk rope and a handsome man is sitting on his lap, pressing sigh-fluttery kisses to his throat, teasing his nipples with his fingertips, grinding against his crotch.

Napoleon takes his time, sucking his way down Illya’s body with soft-hot kisses until he’s reached his cock. Sloppy, messy, self-indulgent blowjob. Kisses to Illya’s shaft, happy little sighs.

He’s having fun, he’s enjoying the way Illya starts shaking at some point, cock red-twitching, dripping precome for him too suck off.

I say it’s at least an hour before there’s any kind of penetrative sex happening. I’m not sure who’s penetrating who, but I know Illya’s a shivering mess by the end of it, tear-glassy eyes, pink-bitten lips.

10. having to be very quiet for fear of being overheard

One would think that they just stumble into one of those “oh no we have to hide in this tiny cupboard” scenarios. but nuh-uh. They stumble upon a bed. Soft like a cloud, silky-fluffy, perfect. Napoleon sets eyes on it and glances at Illya and Illya just. He knows. He knows Napoleon is going to be insufferable until they fuck in that bed.

They’re in the mansion of a mafia don. They’re on a mission. People could come.

No, who cares, Napoleon is looking at him with his adrenaline-fuelled “Fuck Me” eyes. And Illya’s a very strong man. But he’s not that strong.

Napoleon is so fucking happy, black turtleneck pulled up to press his chest against the sheets, back arched, thick thighs parted for leverage while Illya fucks him into that soft dream of a bed. And Illya’s good. He’s strong, he knows how to fuck someone to pieces. That alone has Napoleon mewling happily, but then Illya changes the angle and hits his prostate dead on, and Napoleon’s moans get a good deal louder. Cock-drunk mewling, high-pitched whining while he’s tearing at the sheets, knees slipping so that Illya has to put his hands on his hips to hold him up. Comes in handy, since he can now pull him back on his cock.

But yeah, the sounds are becoming more obvious, so that’s a problem. Illya is aware, but he’s also balls-deep buried in that clenching-hot hole, so he’s not going to pull back now. Instead, he pulls Napoleon up by the shoulder, making him whine as he’s roughly pulled back onto Illya’s cock. This way, Illya can push his fingers into Napoleon’s sloppy-wet mouth and keep fucking him.

Does it silence him? Nah. Would a palm be more effective? Yeah def. But Napoleon’s muffled, wet little moans as he’s slurping on Illya’s fingers - that’s nice.

(They don’t get caught)

12. angry sex

I have to admit, that’s one I’m really unsure about, since for Illya, anger is mostly linked to pain.

But I do think that they get each other all messed up with their bickering. It’s not really anger, but it’s fire-hot passion. We still have the physical aspect, we still have the crashing into walls and doors and tearing at each other’s clothes. The collateral damage of the furniture they smash into.

But it’s that animalistic frenzy, all claws and sharp teeth, laughter and bruises. One would think they’re about to tear each other apart, but oh, don’t worry. They’re just having fun.

Illya has that passion, Napoleon has his strength (and he’s p much up for whatever). Match made in heaven, really.

15. trying to distract the other with sex while they’re “busy”

That’s Napoleon. I could be quirky and make it about Illya but come on. Napoleon’s the type to slither up to Illya while the latter is writing down his mission reports, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and nibbling on his earlobe, kissing his neck, pawing at him.

“We could be fucking right now… I could be sucking your cock… You could be sitting on my face…”

oh!

Even better? Him not saying anything. Just being extremely obvious. Wearing his stupid tailored trousers, his tight button downs with the top buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up… prancing around….knowing Illya is watching him… Standing next to Illya’s chair to his crotch is basically eye-level… Bending over in front of him…

“Cowboy, I need to finish this.”

“Hm? I’m not doing anything…”

“Stop shaking your ass in my face.”

“???!!! I’m shocked you’d think I’d something like that”

Illya stoically powers through his paperwork for another 20 minutes before he snaps at Napoleon to go and entertain himself somewhere else. Napoleon goes “Oh, brilliant idea!!” ….way too cheerful…

So Illya squints after him, suspicious, before he finally realises that Napoleon disappeared to the bedroom, probably to have fun with his toys. And see. That mental image is way more potent than anything else.

Illya doesn’t even last another 10 minutes before he slinks off to the bedroom.

(Of course Napoleon’s on the bed, completely naked, languidly fucking into a fleshlight, all plugged up. “Ah. Took you long enough.”)

17. one person clothed and the other naked

I am once again thinking about post-shower Illya. All warm and soft and sweetly relaxed, a little sleepy with the heat. Napoleon just arriving from a job, still all gun powder and sleek lines.

And I know I wrote about that before but…Napoleon having himself a nice meal between Illya’s muscular thighs, eating him out until Illya’s melted into the sheets, all flushed and warm and languid, drunk with arousal.

Napoleon flipping him over and unbuttoning his fly, not even bothering to undress properly before sliding his throbbing cock into Illya’s sloppy-hot hole. Languid fucking, Illya half-delirious with pleasure, murmuring some sex-drenched nonsense in Russian.

…i love that so much for them…. :’)))))))))

the prompts💛

#phew this was A LOT #I love my boys.#drabble #filth #Napollya

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disasterdeacy · 5 years

Text

Moonlight Mother {John Deacon x Reader}

A/N: I legit have no words except I am so sorry to my mother, our lord and savior Jesus Christ, and to John Richard Deacon. Warnings: SIN!!! Y’all, seriously don’t read this if you’re under 18.

Pairing: John Deacon x Reader Time Period: 1981, aka the best era of John Deacon, THANK YOU ROCK MONTREAL

Word Count: 4515 (god)

John dropped his bag, sighing into his hands as he rubbed his face. The concerts had been absolutely incredible, and he had had a great time, but god he missed his bed; and by bed he meant wife. The two weeks he had been away from Y/N were the worst two weeks of his life, phone calls 3x a day weren’t enough. He needed her, in every way imaginable.

Before he had left for Canada, he had wanted to tell Y/N that he wanted to try and have a baby. After all, he loved this woman more than he loved being alive, who else would be rather have a family with? However, he hadn’t managed to get the chance to ask her in person before he left, as the two had been rather occupied. He had talked to both Roger and Brian during their time in Canada, asking their advice on how to bring up the subject of children to his young wife.

His two band mates had only smiled and made jokes about how the two already went at it like two catholic rabbits, and that with his luck she was already pregnant. But John knew that wasn’t true. Two days before he left, he found a negative pregnancy test in the bathroom rubbish bin. He had been a little disheartened by the since pink line, but he also knew that they had plenty of time to have a family, after all Y/N wasn’t even 25 yet, and he was only 30. The thought of being a dad had always made John smile, the possibilities were endless when it came to his future children, and the knowledge that he would be responsible for the next generation of Deacons made him feel more like a man than he had ever felt before.

When he had been younger, before he met Y/N, John only assumed that the only reason he wanted children was to carry on his name, and pass on his genes to. He had never imagined that there would be this insatiable desire inside of him to put a baby in his wife’s womb. Ever since he had first seen her wide hips and deliciously plump breasts, accentuated by those damn high waisted pants and a turtleneck which was too tight to be comfortable, he couldn’t stop imagining pumping her full of his cum, impregnating her over and over and over again.

His cock ached at the thought of seeing his beautiful young wife, round and glowing, carrying his child in her womb, a child which his own cock has placed there. It was an image that he had cum to, too many times to count. Especially these last 2 weeks he’d been away, there had been nothing that could keep his cock restrained when it came to the thought of his cum dripping down Y/N’s leg, knowing that he more than likely had just put a baby in her.

It was a thought that John had to stop himself from having as he walked through the door of your home, according to his watch it was 3:24am, Y/N would definitely be asleep. He sighed, he wanted nothing more than to snuggle in bed behind her, slipping his achingly hard cock in between her ass cheeks to wake her, before he would pound her poor little pussy into oblivion. However, he knew that the two of them needed to have a talk about it before he just went and got her pregnant. It wasn’t just him he had to think about, he loved his wife, and he wanted Y/N to be the one to decide when they had children. After all, he was just the sperm donor, she was the one who had to do all of the heavy lifting throughout the pregnancy.

Little did John know, Y/N had been having the same thoughts. Ever since her and John had met, she knew that she wanted to have his children, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why. John was the sweetest man she had ever met, he was loving, kind, caring, funny, and insanely attractive. She loved him with every fiber of her being, and without him, she knew that she wouldn’t be half the woman she was today. So, when her period was a few days late before John was due to go to Montreal, she was ecstatic.

The young woman had waited for John to leave for rehearsal, before she rushed down to the corner store and purchased a single home pregnancy test. When she returned home she wasted absolutely no time before taking the test, so when it came back negative and her period came only a few hours later, she was slightly upset. Although she knew that she and John had all the time in the world, she couldn’t get over the way the possibility of being pregnant with John’s child made her feel.

She had never wanted children before meeting John, and now here she was, masturbating every night to the mere thought of John’s cock spilling a baby into her womb. It was the single hottest fantasy she could imagine, and all she wanted was to feel her husband’s cum fill her up, she wanted it to stay inside of her all day, running down her legs whenever she attempted to walk. Y/N had gone to sleep the night before John was due to come home, in nothing but one of John’s oversized T shirts, knowing it would drive him absolutely wild when he walked into their shared room. Her pussy was dripping when she went to bed, the mere thought of John impregnating her enough.

John had managed to completely strip down to nothing but his boxers by the time he made his way to him and his wife’s bedroom, leaving a trail of clothing leading from the front door, all the way to their bedroom door. He knew he would get an ear full about it in the morning, but at this particular moment in time, he did not give two shits. All he wanted to do at this very moment was girl up next to his gorgeous wife, and sleep for hours. Well, that wasn’t ALL he wanted, but he that would be all he would be allowed to do until morning came. However, when he quietly entered the room, the sight before him took his breath away.

His young wife was asleep atop the covers, dressed in only one of his many oversized shirts. While they were usually quite large on him, his wife’s curves filled out every one of his shirts better than any supermodel could ever hope to fill out a dress on the runway. Her long legs were bent at the knee, one crossed atop the other, giving him a perfect view of her ass, an ass that he had so often imagined while away. He shuddered at the sight of his wife, so angelic, and yet so devilish. His cock was even harder than it had been when he walked through the door, pressing against the constraints of his boxers, begging to be set free. John moaned as he felt the extremely sensitive tip of his clock rub against the cotton material, he knew that he couldn’t sleep like this. Conversation be damned, he needed to be buried balls deep in his wife’s tight pussy. He needed to fuck Y/N, and he needed to fuck her now.

Running a hand through his curly hair, John Deacon all bit ran across the room to the bed which his sleeping wife occupied, her figure unmoving. He slipped in bed behind her, wrapping a toned arm around middle, pulling her backside flush against him. He groaned at the feeling of his cock on her ass, it was almost unbearable. The sudden movement caused Y/N to stir, her sleepy eyes opening only slightly, adjusting to the moonlight filled room.

At first she didn’t know what was going on, but as soon as she woke slightly, she felt the all to familiar feeling of her husband’s arm around her middle, and the even more familiar feeling of his pulsing cock pressed into her backside. Y/N smirked and began grinding her ass into the metal like rod of a penis her husband was pressing against her, knowing that this always managed to get a response from the man. And what a response it was.

“You saucy little minx, do you have any idea what you’re doing to me right now? What you’ve been doing to me for the past 2 weeks?”

John’s voice was deeper than Y/N had ever heard it, and the feeling of his hot breath against her neck caused her to moan like a wanton slut. She couldn’t take nor facing him anymore, so she flipped around to face John, taking his right hand into her own.

“I can feel exactly what I’ve been doing to you, would you like to feel what you’ve been doing to me?”

John was staring her straight in the eyes, the moonlight showing her that his pupils were blown, making his grey eyes seem almost black in the darkness. Her words had somehow made his cock even harder that it had been before, and he could feel the precum leaking from it like a faucet that just wasn’t turned off properly. What happened next, John wasn’t expecting at all, but knowing his wife, definitely should have been.

Upon seizing John’s right hand, Y/N latched her mouth onto her husband’s, slipping her tongue into his as she also slid his fingers into her soaking wet pussy. John moaned louder than she was used to, the vibrations from his throat reverberating through her own. His fingers soon went to work, coating themselves in his wife’s wetness, which wasn’t seeming like it was ever going to stop.

“God John! I’ve missed the way you make me feel.”

Y/N moaned out into John’s mouth, her hands clutching at his curly locks, God she loved this hairstyle on him. His fingers had gone straight into her soaking pussy, 4 fingers were completely buried inside his wife, curling so he could find that special spot that always made Y/N cum hard and fast. His thumb was perfectly perched on the little bundle of nerves at the top of her gorgeous mound, rubbing lazy circles around it, his pace making Y/N feel as though he was killing her in the beat way possible.

John loved playing with his wife’s pussy, it was one of his favorite things in the world. Feeling the way she clenched and released around his fingers, depending on just how fast he was pounding, or how slight his fingers were curling. However, as much as he loved their usual foreplay games, tonight, John simply wanted to pound his wife into the mattress with the fury of 1,000 gods.

Just as Y/N was nearing her release, mouth wide, eyes clenched shut from the sheer weight of the pleasure John was giving her, he removed his fingers from her, bringing them up to his mouth to clean.

The loss of the full feeling caused Y/N to groan unhappily, however when she saw John greedily lapping at her wetness on his fingers, her annoyance turned to unbridled lust. Before she even knew what she was doing, she had climbed atop John, straddling his waist as she attached her mouth to his neck, biting and kissing every inch she could. John was speechless, his cock pinned between his wife’s bare thighs and his own stomach. He was in absolute heaven, his wife’s gorgeous mouth marking him as her’s, something they both loved to do to one another.

When the pressure on his cock became too much, John gently took hold of Y/N’s face, pulling her from his neck to look him in the eyes. The two lovers stared at one another, love and adoration seemingly poured from every pore on their bodies.

“I love you so much my darling, more than you know.” John couldn’t help but allow the words to flow from his mouth as he cupped Y/N’s cheek, pulling her towards him to place a single kiss to the top of her head.

This woman sat atop him was the only person in the entire world who truly understood and loved him, completely and selflessly. All sexual motives aside, there was no woman alive that he would rather be given the honor to call the mother of his children.

After John’s display of love, Y/N simply couldn’t wait any longer. Reaching between herself and John, she quickly lined her husband’s throbbing cock up against her and before John knew what was happening, his cock was completely enveloped by his wife’s waiting heat. He groaned at the feeling, sitting up in the bed and wrapping his arms around Y/N, bringing her towards him, burying his face in her ample chest. “Fuck Y/N, you feel so good.” John gasped into his wife’s chest, his arms tightening around her waist as she rode him slowly, taking his cock completely inside of her. Y/N threw her head back in ecstasy, the feeling of her husband’s cock filling her up completely after two weeks apart almost too much for her to handle. John felt the same way, whenever Y/N took the reigns and rode him, he could never hold himself together for long. He didn’t want that tonight. John wanted to take his wife hard, and for as long as possible. He wanted to savor this moment, he wanted to make his wife cum as many times as possible before he completely filled her to the brim with his cum, hopefully putting a baby in her beautiful belly. Y/N’s soft moans were only egging him on, causing his cock to grow even more inside of her, her wetness running down the throbbing length, dripping down his taunt balls, onto the sheet below them. “God, John, I’ve missed you so much, my fingers could never make me feel this way.” Y/N grabbed hold of John’s head, bringing his lips to her’s, biting his bottom lip, hoping this would cause a reaction. To most people, John wasn’t exactly seen as a sex go, most people would be incorrect. While John’s sweet and loving side usually dominated their everyday life, behind closed doors, John was an absolute deviant. He was rough, dominating, and oh so good. Y/N had been surprised the first time John had let that side of him show, she couldn’t walk for almost 2 days afterwards; the whole time she was in bed, John never left her side, running her bath after bath, massaging her when she asked, and placing soft kisses along her entire body. Since then, things had only gotten better. Of course the two of them didn’t have aggressive sex every night, sometimes John wanted Y/N to take control, to be soft, loving, and to simply make love. Tonight wasn’t that night though.

After being apart for two weeks, their thoughts running rampant with images of swollen bellies, throbbing cocks leaking with cum, and shaking thighs, neither John nor Y/N wanted soft and gentle. John groaned into Y/N’s mouth at the feeling of her teeth against his bottom lip, if she wanted to play that game, he would play. Y/N soon got the answer to her unasked question when John quickly pulled out of her, flipping the two of them so her back was pressed against the mattress. She moaned at the feeling of John’s roughness, looking into his eyes, pupils blow. He looked like a madman, his eyes wild and hungry, mouth agape, spit running from his lips onto her chest. Y/N reached up to grab onto his curly hair, hoping to bring him to her neck so he could mark her as his, she fucking loved when he did that. She loved showing the world who she belonged to, and John loved it just as much as she did. However, John had other plans.

Just as Y/N went run her fingers through his hair, John grabbed her wrists in his hands, forcing them to the bed above her. “No ma’am, tonight, you listen to me. You do what I tell you, you don’t speak, you just listen.” John’s last word was drawn out, almost a breathless moan, as he leaned forward to take the lobe of her ear into his mouth, gently biting it, his breath hot and wet on Y/N’s neck. “John..” “No. If you talk, you don’t get to cum. If you speak, I’ll leave you here, soaking wet and pleading for release. I’ll tie you to the bed, and sleep in the guest room, screaming out as I cum on my stomach thinking of your pretty little mouth and gorgeous pussy. Understood?” Y/N clenched her eyes shut as John pressed a single, calloused finger inside of her, moaning and nodding in agreement with her husband.

She needed this, she needed him inside of her, more than she needed air. John seemed satisfied with his wife’s answer, grinning into her neck as he placed a single kiss against the junction between her jaw and ear. “Look what you’ve done to be baby, look at how much my cock needs you.” He sat up slightly, taking his cock into his hand. Y/N sat up on her elbows to get a better look at her husband, and what she saw made her whine. John’s cock was red, throbbing with anticipation, his cock head was nearly purple with need, precum seeping out of it nonstop, coating his hand as he rubbed a single finger along his slit. He knew exactly what he was doing to his wife, and he didn’t even have to look at her sopping wet center to know that. Y/N had her bottom lip completely inside of her mouth, teeth biting down hard enough that he was sure she would bring blood. John released his cock, making sure his fingers were coated in his own arousal. “It looks like I’ve made a bit of a mess darling, could you help me?” Y/N knew exactly what John wanted, so she nodded like the good girl she was, and John stuck four of his completely saturated fingers inside of her waiting mouth. She moaned at the taste of her husband’s precum, sucking his fingers while swirling her tongue around the tips, her eyes meeting his own, before closing them to savor his taste. The sound of his wife’s delicate moans, accompanied by the feeling of her mouth around his fingers, sucking his precum off of his fingers like a good little slut, was too much for John to handle. He pulled his fingers from her mouth, and before Y/N even had time to comprehend what was happening, John had buried himself deep inside of her once more. Y/N gasped at the sudden intrusion, throwing her head back, giving John full access to her neck, which he soon took complete advantage of. John was viciously fucking her now, his cock drilling into her at a speed that she had previously never seen John move. Y/N was gasping for breath, her arms clinging to John to keep herself grounded. John had his head resting against her’s, his arms on either side of her body to keep himself from crushing her. “God Y/N, I want to fuck a baby into you.” The words had fallen from his mouth before he even knew what had happened, he didn’t know why he said it, he hadn’t been planning on even bringing up his fantasy until they had spoken about their wishes fully, but the feeling of Y/N’s muscles clenching around his cock coupled with her fingernails digging into his back muscles just made the words he had been bursting to speak spill out.

Once he realized what he had done, John halted his movements, lifting his head from Y/N’s, and looking into her eyes, worried at what he might see. He stared into her eyes for a beat, his mouth wide, ready to apologize, his previous demeanor gone, replaced by the John everyone was used to seeing. However, just as he opened his mouth to speak, he closed it as he felt his wife’s pussy clamp down around his cock. Y/N couldn’t help it, the words that had come from her husband’s mouth had affected her in a way she hadn’t expected. “You want to fuck a baby in me?” Y/N didn’t even care about John’s previous threat, she needed to hear it again. John looked down at you, his eyes wide. “Uh, I, I’m.” He couldn’t stop stuttering, he didn’t want to freak Y/N out, it was a pretty intense statement. “Because, I want you to fuck a baby into me John. I want you to fuck me hard until you cum as deep inside of my womb.” Y/N leaned up, taking John by the back of his head, pulling his mouth to hers. John groaned loudly at his wife’s words, taking her by the back of the head, crushing his mouth to her own. “You want me to cum deep inside of you baby? You want me to fuck you until your womb is absolutely filled with my cum?” All Y/N could do was nod and scream out John’s name as he ferociously fucked her, his cock finding that special spot deep inside of her body that always made her cum harder than she ever imagined possible. “I’m going to fuck you every night until your poor little pussy is absolutely demolished. My cum is going to be leaking from you until your belly is swollen with our baby.” John had his hands on their headboard now, anchoring himself so he could fuck Y/N harder and faster than he ever had, spurred on by the image of Y/N in this exact same position, her womb full with the life of his child. “God, John, I’m so close love!” Y/N couldn’t hold back anymore, John hitting that same spot over and over, the thought of his cum filling her up until she got pregnant, the feral look in his eyes, all coupled together with the fact that she hadn’t had him in two weeks, was too much to handle. Seeing how close his wife was, and knowing he wouldn’t be far behind her, John removed his hands from the headboard and lifted her legs over his shoulders, allowing for his cock to go deeper than he thought possible. “Fuck, Fuck! John!” Y/N arched her back, a pleasure far more intense than anything she had ever felt before washing over her entire body. Feeling Y/N losing herself underneath him, her walls clenching him like a vice, John came, a scream caught in his throat. He could feel stream after stream of cum bursting from his cock, imbedding itself deep in his wife, it just didn’t seem to end. Y/N was still recovering from her own orgasm when she felt her husband lose himself inside of her, the warmth of his cum erupting from his cock filling her. She couldn’t believe just how much cum was spilling from her husband, his cock was still twitching inside of her and she could feel his cum leaking out of her vagina. Once the aftershocks of his orgasm had ceased, and he could think straight once again, he gently moved Y/N’s legs down from off of his shoulders, making sure to keep his cock buried deep inside her core, wanting to keep his cum inside of her for as long as possible. He didn’t know if that would increase their chances of getting pregnant, but it felt right. John was absolutely spent, he had never had an orgasm that intense, and he had never fucked anyone as aggressively as he had just fucked Y/N. Y/N was running her fingers through his hair as he laid his head on her breasts, still breathing as heavily as she had been before John had finished. “Did you mean it John?” She placed a kiss to the top of his sweaty head, her hands running up and down his back. She desperately hoped that he did, and it wasn’t something that he had just mentioned in the midst of sex. John raised his head from Y/N’s chest, a sleepy smile on his face. “Of course I meant it love, I’ve been thinking about it ever since I met you. I mean, just think about how gorgeous our children would be.” John began ticking Y/N’s sides, laughing as she shrieked. She began laughing, struggling against his fingers. “John! Be serious love. You’re ready?” Y/N grabbed John’s hands, bringing them to her mouth to place small kisses on the knuckles. John’s eyes softened as he felt his wife’s lips against his hand, this wasn’t how he had planned this conversation to go. He sighed and regrettably pulled out of Y/N wincing at the loss of warmth, sitting up, he pulled Y/N up with him as well, waiting until the two of them were sat in front of each other, legs crossed. John took Y/N’s hands back into his own, before speaking.

“Y/N, love, I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. From the moment I met you, I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, and there is no woman who I would rather have be the mother of my children. You’re kind, loving, hilarious, and I wasn’t joking when I said that our children would be beautiful.” Y/N laughed at John, of course he would be the sweetest human being alive after pounding her poor body into oblivion. Y/N grabbed hold of John’s shoulders, pulling him towards her until the two were lying against the bed once more, John curled into her side. She smiled down at him, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Well, I would be honored to be the mother of your children John Richard Deacon.” John’s eyes began to water as he looked up at Y/N, he had never felt a love so strongly before. “I love you so much Y/N, more than you could ever know.” John had tears running down his cheeks as he reached up and kissed his wife, cupping her face in his hands. “Well, I should hope so John, after all, I am going to be the mother of your children.” Y/N’s seemingly sweet and innocent comment greatly affected John, his cock becoming hard once more at the thought of his wife carrying his child. Y/N rose her eyebrows at the sudden feeling of her husband’s hard cock pressed against her side. “Already John, really?” She couldn’t help but laugh as he blushed a deep red. “Well love, like I said, I won’t rest until you’re swollen with our child.” John had climbed back on top of her at this point, smiling down at Y/N as she rolled her eyes. “Then you’d better get to it Mr. Deacon.” John grinned and flipped them over so she was on top of him. “With pleasure Mrs. Deacon”

@itsametaphorbriansblog @deakysgirl @localspacegod @greenie-frog @carlquesarito @deaky-dandelion @fearless2beme @spookyfrances @annas-unicorun @shy-deacy

#oh man wow i am sweating #i did this instead of working on my crime scene report #lol #hope i did yall proud lolll #john deacon #john deacon x reader #john deacon imagine #queen #bohemian rhapsody #joe mazzello #brian may #roger taylor #gwilym lee #ben hardy #my writing #fanfiction

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therestismutlol · 5 years

Text

Table for Three • Dong Sicheng & Nakamoto Yuta x Reader

“I major in Arts.” “Pffft,"the clearly drunk man sneered. "That’s cute.” Sicheng gives you a look. “Do you perhaps…want to eat somewhere else?” “Yeah, actually–” You were cut off as the same drunk man collapsed and flipped over your table.

***

Sunday morning but the rain was definitely not falling. It didn’t even come in the evening. You wish it had, because you are definitely not up to the incoming blind date.

It was a fine Saturday, but your mom paid a visit. She always does, but along this came with her nagging you with a lot of things, may it be money, career, love life, passion–name it– but in this day particular, she was a lot more forceful when it came to you finding a husband.

“But mom, I’m only 28, it’s not like my eggs’ll rot tomorrow morning!”

“Do you want me to die without even having to see my grandchildren!?”

Everything happened too fast that you didn’t even have the time to protest. She was hitting up everyone she knows who knows someone who’s capable of being your significant other, and then canceled out the rest coming down to one person. Next thing you know your mom whipped out the most ‘formal’ outfit she could find from your closet then scheduled the date for tomorrow.

On the cab ride to the resto, you were trying to compose yourself but as you set foot down the pavement at exactly 6 pm, you find yourself almost falling to your knees in anxiety.

It has been four years since you last dated. It was even a really bad break up, so you have forgotten all about dating and relationships… Or somehow you chose to. Your past has scarred you, and so you were here, scared. Confused. Hesitant.

“What if he doesn’t like me? What if he thinks… I’m too old or something? What if I mess up?”

You say more to yourself, then shut your eyes tight.“Calm yourself (Y/n), don’t be stupid. Why are you scared? You don’t have to be right? Why are you worried? You won’t see him again any–”

“Excuse me.”

Startled, you then proceeded to make way to a college student, coughing. That was so embarrassing.

“You know what, fuck it.”

You opened the glass door like your life depended on it, but silently of course, and the cold air of the air conditioning greeted you. Typical citrus smell for a ranch-rural themed restaurant, and there are a lot of polished wood. It was still classy though, under the dimly lit building there was the band playing soft jazz at a corner and waiters suited accordingly moved around. You turned your head, looking for the Sicheng, before you rembered you haven’t seen his face before so it was better to contact the phone number your mom gave to you earlier as she curled your hair.

The ringing vibrated against your ear as you waited patiently for him to answer.

“Table for how many, ma'am?” A waiter approached you, and you shook your head mouthing, 'Sorry. Reservation.’

“Hello?”

This was the first time you heard his voice; over the phone. It wasn’t that bad to be honest… if you could rate appearances based on the sound of their voice you’ll say he’s rather pleasant looking. But you don’t want to raise your hopes up though.

“Hello, this is (F/n) (L/n).” You answered. Where are you seated?“

"Uh, we’re actually seated at table 23 but I’m currently at the bathroom, so…”

“A-Ah, sorry. I’ll go ahead don’t worry. Goodbye.” And you quickly ended the call.

“That was so embarrassing.” You utter under your breath, heading to your table.

You sat comfortably, and you wondered if he just entered the bathroom when you called or if he was taking a shit– what was taking him so long?

“He’s not coming.”

You suddenly became even more nervous at the fact that destiny, fate, or whatever seem to dislike the idea of you being able to see his face.

You became very self-aware, and so you started to comb your hair that came from your bag then reapplied your lipstick. You wished you didn’t look like a poodle or something, you wanted to leave a good impression.

“He’s not coming.”

You finally looked at the person who repeated themselves.

“Who, me?” You question once you caught the man seated at the table beside yours looking at you.

“No, him. Are you deaf or something?” He frowns, before drinking a glass of alcohol. You were sure because it stank. Well not in a bad way, it’s just that you were having a date for the first time in years and you were conscious about everything.

“What made you say that?”

“Your date won’t come. Obviously because he’s making you wait,”

You figured. It does sound fishy when he said he was at the bathroom, because it’s taking him too long.

You thought you hated being in a blind date, but why is it that you’re sad?

Perhaps Mr. Dong already has someone special and he was just forced to be in this date for a wild reason? Or…are you that undesirable?

“You really…think so?”

You sigh.

“Poor thing,” the man laughed, and you were feeling too down to even be mad at him. You didn’t even try to ask him why the hell is he even talking to you.

“Hey… I’m single.”

You looked at him, frowning.

“And you’re single. We should just go out. How about that?”

The way he said it was so smooth you knew he was experienced with the ladies. If anything, he must be a huge womanizer.

“What makes you think that he’s not my boyfriend?” You ask, motioning to the empty seat across you.

“You’re obviously on a blind date. I could tell,”

See. So experienced.

You sigh.

“I’m Yuta by the way.”

“No thanks."You smile politely, before fixing your things. You weren’t that desperate to go on an impromptu date with a stranger, you would rather go home and cry to your pillow about how single you are and that nobody wants you.

"Hey, where are you going?” The man who identified himself as Yuta asks once you stood up.

“Leaving. Goodbye.”

“(Y/n)(L/n)?”

You stopped in your tracks and turned around to see a man paler as you, and sweating as if the resto didn’t have airconditioning.

“Dong…Dong Sicheng?”

He nodded.“Yes. Where are you going?”

“I uh… I was just…"your eyes scanned the area, embarrassed. Were you just going to drop him because you were impatient, doubtful? Aaaaaaaaaa

You sat down quietly, and he did the same. To your surprise, he brought out a bouquet of fresh lilacs.

"To be honest, I wasn’t really in the bathroom. I was running late, and I didn’t want you to leave yet so I just… You know.” He shyly handed you the pleasant-smelling flowers. “This is yours.”

“Thank you,"you smile.

"Missy here was about to leave you though,"Yuta, you remember, butted in."I was the one who kept her here so you owe me one.”

Sicheng frowned, before giving him a small smile.“Thanks, I guess.”

“I am so sorry,” you felt the hairs at the back of your neck rising as embarassment and guilt ate you out.“I was impatient. I thought you left me, or weren’t really coming, so–”

“It’s okay. I understand. I’m sorry for being late,”

“Bad impression for the first date.”

You two look at the man sitting beside your table once again, who was currently chuckling by himself.

“I-It’s alright,” you smile at Sicheng, then put the bouquet beside you.

You’d say, Mr. Dong was looking really fine. He was wearing a fitted black turtleneck sweater and jeans and it was so casual and classy at the same time as it matches the Rolex watch on his left wrist.

He was so pretty though, you wonder if he was a model or an actor somewhere. His facial features was almost feminine and/or child like, but at the same time he radiated an aura of warmth and somehow an aura of 'settling-down’ material.

You know you’re getting old when you’re already evaluating someone as someone capable of being your partner for life.

“So uh, have I introduced myself formally yet?” You ask.

“Go on.”

“I’m (Y/n), you can call me whatever–”

“Nice to meet you whatever,”

You two looked over to Yuta again. He then proceeded to drink another glass of alcohol. Looking over at Sicheng again, you knew he was ticked off. And so were you though.

“(Y/n). You were saying?”

“…right. I’m 28, and I currently live here in this city at an apartment.”

You then started to tell him all the basic things he should know about you, like your education, your current job and things about your family.

“I see,” he nodded all the time. You couldn’t tell if he was sincere or what but who cares.

You of course. You’re the one who cares, because suddenly you’re finding something in Dong Sicheng that tells you that he’s perfect. He’s a huge catch– the rarest, even–and you would be really devastated if this fails because you could totally see a married life with him.

Maybe you’re really just desperate.

You shook your head, disappointed at yourself. Did you just forget about the pain you felt that was caused by a man you trusted and loved dearly? Why are you opening your heart to this man easily?

Stop being an idiot,

“Anything wrong?”

You look at him, at his face that was dimly lit by the lights above. He looks so inviting, even while looking at you with concerned eyes.

“Uh, nothing.”

“You just stopped talking for a while, so I thought…”

You laughed nervously.“Ah, I’m just weird. Anyway, where was I…”

Another ten minutes maybe, before Sicheng asks you if you wanted to order food now.

“I don’t know…"you answered. Truth be told the unsettling feeling in your stomach was the reason why you couldn’t eat just yet.

"Waiter?” He raised his hand, and someone approached a second later then handed you two menus.

“What do you want to eat?” Sicheng asks, and you scanned the menu. The food was expensive and delicious, ranging from chicken delicacies to duck dishes but it doesn’t look very appetizing to your eyes at the moment.

“To be honest… Something to drink first…”

Sicheng looks at you.

“Here.”

In front of you, Yuta put a glass on your table. A glass of alcohol.

Not to be rude, so you give him a small smile.

“Sorry, I don’t drink–”

“She’s not interested.” Sicheng gets the glass before thrusting it back to Yuta’s chest. “Please mind your own business.”

“Boohoo,” he rolls his eyes before settling down. He’s drunk now, obviously. So drunk that his movements were swaying and unstable, you wouldn’t be surprised if any minute he would collapse.

Sicheng eyes you worrily.“You alright?”

“Yeah, let’s just… Talk a little some more.”

“You sure you don’t want to order anything except water yet?”

“Mmm."you nod.

He then folded the menu. "I’d rather have us eat together. I’ll just order later.”

You raised your brows. That was weirdly thoughtful.

You knew that he has an older sister and a sibling by now, and that he was from China but he lived in Korea for 9 years to finish his studies and start his own business.

“It’s something related to photography and filming. You know ErXiao?”

“For someone who has been in a lot of weddings, I know ErXiao because it’s famous among brides and grooms.” You laugh.

“Yes, we are that.” He chuckles. “To be honest, I wasn’t expecting the path I now take. But you know, it’s decent, stable…”

“And legal."you smile.

"Definitely legal."he grins back.

"Anyway, I was originally planning a different path in life. I major in Arts.”

“Arts, huh,"you nod, interested.

"Pffft,"the clearly drunk man sneered. "That’s cute.”

You look at Yuta again. You swear you saw Sicheng rolling his eyes, and you were pissed now. Why is he always interrupting every single time you two were at peace?

Yuta stood up, then started singing a song about break up and how you two would split up in the end anyway.

There was a possibility, but you wouldn’t want to think of it just yet. It’s annoying because this drunktard keeps reminding you that you’re not deserving to be happy at all.

He started to lean on your table for support as he stumbled on his feet, then you swallowed. You wanted to scream at him to go away, far from your date, but Sicheng might not fancy loud women so…

Yuta started laughing at nothing, so you searched for your date’s eyes.

And Sicheng gives you a look. “Do you perhaps…want to eat somewhere else?”

“Yeah, actually–” you were cut off as the same drunk man collapsed and flipped over your table.

Everyone’s eyes were on you lot.

You were in shock, and there the table was, damaged, and the drunk was knocked out on the floor.

“Hey!! You!!”

Both of you stood up from your chairs as an angry manager accompanied with two of their security neared you.

“What is this!?”

“H-His name is Yuta–”

“We absolutely have no clue either, sir."Sicheng answers.

"Oh really!? Then why do you know him?!”

“It was by chance–"you started to defend, but then you were cut off by the one who started all the commotion.

"I’m with them,”

You and Sicheng looked at him with wide eyes. Then at the manager.

“…Listen. This is all a misunderstanding–”

Sicheng was cut off by the manager yelling.

“Get thE FUCK OUT.”

***

The dark sky was glittered with blinking stars, and the night breeze was something you would’ve appreciated only if you weren’t carrying half of a man you barely knew along with your date that you just met to his car. The fact that you were wearing ridiculously high heels wasn’t helping, either.

Once you two managed to fit Yuta at the back, you two boarded the front seats; Sicheng on the driver’s seat and you on the passenger’s seat.

“Now what?” Sicheng asks.

You look at each other. Then spared a glance at the one snoring away.

“Wait.”

You climbed to the back and fished his pockets, then claimed his wallet. No, you weren’t stealing shit from him, you’re just interested if he has any IDs or calling cards that’ll tell you guys the place where he lives. You just hoped it wasn’t far.

You succeeded, and you gave his driver’s license to your date.

“Think you could drive him there?”

He was examining the address way too hard, before searching your eyes.

“…no. Too far.”

You groaned out. You should’ve left him already if it weren’t for the store’s staffs insisting that you, Sicheng and this man were related. Well, you could’ve left him in the streets but neither of you had the heart to do so… Or maybe because the other was present. Who wants to have a merciless significant other anyway?

“We could… check him in a hotel, maybe?”

“Maybe, but it costs a lot.”

Silence reigned between the two of you as you pondered on where would you dispose this guy. Oh, the trouble you two have to go through just because of him.

You widened your eyes and turned your head at the source of the sudden ringing. It seems to come from Yuta’s pocket, so you reached then got his phone. Someone was calling.

This someone saved both of your lives.

“Hello?"the man on the other line answered.

"Hello, hello.”

“Who’re you?”

“A stranger, this person here passed out intoxicated.”

“Again? That’s the third time this month.”

You frowned. This guy must have some serious issue.

“But where do you think should we drop him off? Except his house, it’s very far.”

“Hmmm, that’ll be hard. His family lives in Japan, and all of our friends are either busy or overseas. I’d say at my place, but I’m not even there yet, just like the others. I’m at Paris currently, but I’ll be home tomorrow.”

You reflected Sicheng’s worried look.“What are we going to do…”

“Hey listen, I have a favor? He’s a good friend of mine so I don’t want him to be abandoned somewhere.”

“Where exactly are you heading?"Sicheng questions, hearing from the speakerphone.

"Take him in for a while. Somewhere, wherever. At your place, or something of the sort. Like, for 9 hours. I’ll be picking him up don’t worry.”

“Why?"Sicheng asks, but you correct his question.

"What’s in it for us?”

“…Money?”

Sicheng looks at you.

“I’m not really desperate for mone–”

“I am."you hushed him out, before responding,

"Okay, if the price is right. See you in a bit, I’ll text you my address, uh…”

“Mr. Lee. Lee Taeyong.”

“Okay, Mr. Lee. Y/n. Goodbye.”

And the call ended.

“…What?” Was Sicheng’s first word after a while, looking at you as if you just walked into church naked.

“I– I had to, I’m sorry.” You bowed your head slightly, embarrassed.

You hear him sigh.

At this point you wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t want to go on a second date anymore… It was as if you chose money over love. You mentally slapped yourself.

“We’re bringing him to your apartment? Isn’t that dangerous?"Sicheng frowns.

"I’m moving anyway, so it’s no big deal."also the money.

He looked hesitant, but in the end you were hitting the road to your home.

***

There was a soft but loud thud as you two practically threw the unconscious to your bed. A horrible decision, really, but where were you supposed to put him? On the couch? But your couch couldn’t even fit three people. And this guy has long legs.

You heard Sicheng sigh loudly. You look at him with guilty eyes, feeling sorry for him. Feeling sorry because you forced him to drive this guy in your house, feeling sorry for somehow being part of the reason why your date has gone downhill(but of course Yuta leads), and feeling sorry because you were the one put up to him for blind dating.

"Hey, I know you’re tired…and disappointed. I’m really sorry, if only it was another girl you would be having fun right now–”

Sicheng looks at you, and you were shocked because his facial expression softened.

“What do you mean? You’re okay.”

You raised your brows.

“We’re okay.” Sicheng says.

You wanted to fight it. You really did. But there it was, a smile that escaped your lips. You hated how that smile was caused by the jittery feel of the ends of your fingertips and the accelerated pace of your heart. You hate yourself.

“Do we reschedule the date for another time then?” You ask, and he shook his head.

“What?” You ask, confused.

“You want me to leave you alone with this man?”

You two look at Yuta. Then back at each other again.

“…are you saying you’re pulling an all-nighter–”

“…if that’s okay with you of course…”

He suddenly looked so shy, vulnerable, and you suddenly had the urge to scream. Weirdly, it was so cute. But you’re 28 years old, he’s 28 years old as well; you’re grown-ups so you just swallowed.

“Of course. But I don’t know where you’ll sleep though…”

“The floor. We could sleep on the floor."He lightly chuckles, and it was as if your ears were cleansed. It was the first time you heard him chuckle, even just for a little bit, the softest bit, but it was so pure and so endearing you swear if you just didn’t have issues with trust you would immediately hand your heart out to him. You swear any time now there’s a possibility that you’ll definitely fall for him. But wait no. What the heck y/n.

"R-Right, the floor,"you snapped out of your trance."That alright with you?”

“He’s at your bed, so you have no choice either.”

He’s right.

You shrug, then exited your room.

“I’ll make dinner."you hollered.

The creaky, wooden material of the floor enabled you to hear the footsteps coming up behind you, and you met Sicheng’s eyes.

"I want to help. I don’t want to be left alone with that guy anyway.”

You smiled, the determination in his eyes making you dismiss the use of the 'but you’re a visitor’ card.“I didn’t know you cook.”

He stopped.

“…I… don’t know how to cook though…”

Your smile faltered.

***

You two had instant noodles, but it was a bomb because you put an egg in it. After that, you two washed up, but Sicheng still had his previous clothes on.

“I’m sorry I don’t have bigger clothes for you.”

“No it’s alright, my fault.” He claims, as he helped you layer another comforter on the floor to make yourselves more comfortable for later.

After the both of you had done a good job, you examined your work. But then it suddenly hit you.

“So uh… Are we like… Supposed to sleep together or something?” You ask, and he looks at you.

You immediately realized you said it wrong, and so blood rushed to your cheeks as you stuttered to claim yourself.

“I- I mean, do we like, sleep side by side each other, because you know, it’s big but connected, not sleep together 'together’ but you know…”

At this point you just stop talking because you’re just making matters worse. Look, you even made his cheeks rosy, you’re embarrassing not only yourself now.

“I know what you mean, of course. I’m sorry for… Invading your privacy though, I could just sleep sitting on the couch,”

“I-It’s okay!” You immediately said, and once again, you slap yourself. What the actual–

“Ah…okay.”

The both of you stood in awkward silence, before you cleared your throat.

“Let’s sleep.”

***

The next morning you woke up a little bit too early even though you don’t have work today at your office.

You are happy to say that Sicheng wasn’t a thrashy sleeper. He kept to himself, maintaining the position he had last night, his back on you. He wasn’t a loud snorer either, and that made you really happy.

Overall, yesterday was bad, but it definitely wasn’t the worst. It was definitely weird for a first date though; strangers ending up babysitting a grown drunk and sleeping under the same blanket without even knowing each other for 24 hours. But you know, Sicheng was fine.

Too damn fine.

You immediately whipped out a pan and cooked bacon and pancakes, and you made sure you made two more extra– for you, Sicheng… and that Yuta.

As you put the food on a large plate, a voice shook you.

“Where am I?”

You look at the guy who was clutching his head, frowning.

“You’re awake now.”

Upon seeing you, he widened his eyes.“W-What…”

“You were drunk yesterday. And yes, you ruined our date, we took you to my apartment. We’re kind and compassionate just like that, have a seat,”

He obediently sat on the seat at the other side of the table, looking really confused, and obviously contemplating on his life. He then started to search things from his pocket.

“And no, we haven’t mugged you. Your belongings are in my purse, I’ll give you each and every one of them later, no extra, nothing missing.”

He looks at you still frowning, until it transferred to the plate that you were offering him.

You sigh. “Take it. It’s just bacon and pancakes, no poison.”

He hesitantly took it, before finally digging in after a while.

“I’m a good cook,” you giggle, satisfied he looked like he was enjoying as he practically swallowed everything whole.

“My head still hurts,” he says in the middle, and you stood up.

“Hangover. If I make you coffee, your friend better pay me a whole lot,”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Good thing you already had a heated pot of water, so you had his coffee produced in no time.

“Thank you.” He thanked, and you just shrug. All for the money.

“By the way, your friend Taeyong will come and get you any minute now, so you have to be ready.”

“I thought he was at Paris?”

“Was? He might be here now. I must say you have a really good friend willingly looking after you.”

He went silent, then chugged a mugful.

“Good mor–”

You two look at the person who just came in the kitchen/ dining room/ living room(all in one kek).

Apparently he was just as shocked as you upon seeing Yuta awake. His wide eyes immediately narrowed as he inspected the other man carefully, Yuta doing the same.

“Good morning,” you greeted Sicheng back with a warm smile. “Have a seat. This is a table for three,”

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