Tumgik
#how could things possibly get worse au
tar-antula-juice · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
EARLY AU DRAWINGZ,, WE GOR A TAG FOR OUR AU HOW COULD THINGS POSSIBILY GET WORSE AU / WELCOME HOME AU SINCE HCTPGW IS A BIT LONG WINDED
1K notes · View notes
skitskatdacat63 · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Hey, do you remember that really homoerotic scene from Skyfall? No? That's okay, here's a Vettonso version of it :)
- explanation & w/o text:
Hi hello, finally my weird psychosexual relationship with Casino Royale has come to fruition. Yeah this is directly based off a scene from Skyfall, but I def envision the vibe as being more like Casino Royale hehe. I can't believe I made that inspo board for this AU almost 4 weeks ago, and then ended up drawing a four panel "comic" about it. Ahhhh proud of myself, a bit, a tad. I think this took 20+ hours across the span of a week? God. Anyways I digress! The AU!!
First of all, their Bond song would be "My Way of Life" by Frank Sinatra. It's so toxic, codependent and obsessive, I'm in love with it. And it really suits Fernando and his motivations and outlook in this AU. Basically, MI6(in the context of James Bond) in this AU is an analog for Ferrari. It picks theses guys up, tells them that they're Ferrari MI6's most special boy, chews them up, and then spits them out when they're finished extracting all their talent and skill and life force.
Much like with Ferrari, Seb in this AU replaces Fernando after Fernando loses favor and becomes undesirable. Now Seb is the new golden boy, and Fernando has turned to a life of crime! Fernando resents Seb for this of course, but also becomes obsessed with him and the idea of him , and how they are connected. It's weird to watch someone else basically go down your exact same path and unknowingly make all the same mistakes(buying into the mysticism of it all too much, being overly cocky, having naive beliefs and goals, etc.) He is caught between wanting to doom Seb even more but also wanting to "save" him, by corrupting him and convincing him to work together.
Basically: He's both a Bond girl and Bond villain.
Fernando is in such a weird place in this AU. I think he's just very dramatic. Seb is just casually living his best 007(005?) life, and Nando is watching him with binoculars, whispering to himself: "DOESN'T HE UNDERSTAND THAT WE ARE NARRATIVE FOILS!?" Yeah he hates Seb, but like the song lyrics say, their lives and dreams are inherently tied up together. He would feel lost without Seb, because Seb basically, unknowingly, destroyed and then took over his life. Maybe he'll feel satisifed if he manipulates Seb into going down the exact same path a bit better.
About the drawings themselves. Still can't believe this scene is a real thing that actually happened, insane to me. But in this AU, after the events of these drawings, Fernando definitely kicked all his henchman out of the room, and fucked Seb in the chair. And then against the wall. And then on the floor. Hey man, Seb is already looking mighty delicious with his unbuttoned attire and being tied up.
I think the general plot would be that Fernando keeps trying to seduce him to the dark side, and Seb keeps making him think it worked, only to escape at the end of the encounter. Leading Fernando to just come up with increasingly more violent and kinky traps. Seb goes along with it(read: enjoys it), leaving Fernando satisifed, only to somehow escape and wink and make kissy faces at Fernando in the process. (Fernando smoking cigarette in bed: "How do I make him stay. Sigh.")
I like to think though that Fernando does win in the end, by realizing, ah wait shit I do need to actually explain my motivations to Seb. And Seb is so worn down by his job, not Fernando, and how he's being treated, that he listens, really actually listens, and realizes Fernando does really have valid reasons. And then they become evil crime husbands yayyyy. Wow you thought this was a espionage AU? Well it is, but just not the outcome you'd expect.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
#ah well this was certainly a project....#rn i feel like im devolving into illness so im glad i could finish this up before it possibly gets worse#this is my magnum opus as of rn. just bcs ive not really drawn such a longform thing for them!! happy w it :)#i think i def like the first one the best#it made me suffer so bad but i think i soften on my own art after a few days#like i finish it and know its 'good' but cant help but critique every little thing#but ive had that one done for almost a week so now i look at it and really love it#i was originally just going to draw that one only but then realized i really like the full dialog so. might as well.#generally i liked this though bcs even if it ws difficult. it was nice to have really direct and clear reference#like ah ik where im going w this rather than it being an image in my head that i cant represent the way that I want#ah anyways all my vettonso aus tend to be just wanting to explore specific dynamics of theirs#and this one is basically how i feel about their mutual relationship to the institution of ferrari and how it affects their dynamic#basically: THEY'RE MIRRORS!!!#there's always something to be said abt nando being resentful abt seb bcs of 2010/2012/etc and then seb taking his seat at ferrari#but then witnessing seb basically go thru the same trials and tribulations and failures at ferrari#and realizing huh wait maybe he's not who i was villianizing him as. maybe hes at my level too. maybe he's not infallible. maybe hes like m#a very bitter nando who has to fight btwn his impulse to ruin seb further or to relate to him and start to like him#so yeah that's ^ basically what i want to portray in this au(just like all AUs tbh)#f1#formula 1#sebastian vettel#fernando alonso#catie.rambling.txt#catie.art.#vettonso#bond au
54 notes · View notes
musical-chick-13 · 10 months
Text
Ah yes. The age-old question of "Am I brave enough to put this fic on my account or should I just post it anonymously."
3 notes · View notes
i-cant-sing · 21 days
Text
TIME TRAVELER AU PT 2
Original post/idea here. Part 1 is here. Part 3 is here.
Check out my MASTERLIST for more!
I fucked up.
You thought as you sat on the bed, holding your head in your hands.
I fucked up so baaaaaad.
Not only have you healed Baldwin of his leprosy, forever changing history of the LEPER KING, but also managed to somehow be his bride. To make matters EVEN worse, you cant just up and leave right now because you dont know the disastrous effects it'll have on the future now that Baldwin wont die of leprosy, which means that the kingdom of Jerusalem wont fall to Salauddin and his muslim army and after that its just a domino effect.
You tried to view your options here.
I stay here, marry Baldwin and fuck up the fabric of time and space because how can someone from the future marry someone from the past? Wouldnt I cease to exist?
I leave, return to my time where authorities arrest me for fucking around with time- that is, if I even exist in the future now that I've altered history. Who knows if my ancestors survived/were born after this?
No. Neither option is good. I need to stay here and fix this. But in a way that i dont draw too much attention to myself so that im so insignificant that nobody remembers, let alone writes about me in the history books.
You were drawn out of your thoughts with someone knocking on your door. "Come in." You said, straightening yourself.
A couple of servants walked in, all women. "Princess Y/n." They all courtesied. "We've been sent here by his majesty to prepare you for dinner with him."
Princess? Ah yes. Only a couple of hours ago, Baldwin had proposed to you, I guess the concept of asking wasnt a thing here as he just slipped on the big beautiful ring on your finger.
You narrowed your eyes at them. "First of all, Im not a princess. You will address me as Y/n only. And secondly, Im not going to join him for dinner, so there's no need to prepare me" The maids all shared a look of confusion before the head servant spoke.
"But we cant address you as anything else until you wed the king, after which you will be our queen, princess."
"Didnt I just tell you not to call me princess? Just call me Y/n!" The head maid shook her head. "Princess, we can not do that. If we do, then we would be punished. And we must prepare you for dinner with his majesty!" The maids moved ahead to start helping you but you raised a hand, halting them.
"I said, no." You said sternly.
"What... what will we tell the king, princess? He's expecting you-"
"Tell him i cant come because Im sic- no, Im not feeling well and Id like to be alone." You cant say "sick" in this era, because that means "death sentence" here and you dont want to be fretted over and bring attention to yourself as "the king's fiancee got SICK!". Besides, you do need to be away from Baldwin as much as possible and have some time to plot your moves.
-
You had pulled out your notebook and began writing out dates and historic events of this era to plan your escape. You're trying to find some sort of shortcut where Baldwin gets sick again and dies, leaving his kingdom in the hands of his sister and brother in law, who will bring its downfall-
Someone knocked on your door gently. "Princess?" You quickly hid your notebook. "Come in."
Baldwin walked inside and towards you, eyes worried as they scanned you up and down.
"I heard you're not feeling well?" He asked and before you had a chance to back away, he had cupped your cheeks in his hands tenderly. "What's wrong? Shall I fetch the royal physician?"
"No." You replied with your face smushed in his hands. "I'm fine." You pulled your face away his large hands.
Confusion spread through his blue orbs. "Then why did you not join me for dinner?" He asked, using a hand to push your hair over your ear, not taking the hint that you didn't want him touching you.
"I just-" what possible excuse could you come up with that would be both effective and not insulting enough to have your head chopped off. "you- you dont care about me."
Baldwin looked at you in bewilderment. "I dont... care about you? Princess, how can you say that?" He tried to cup your cheek again but you backed away before he could, putting on a face of hurt.
"How can I not? You dont care about what I want, or even ask me what I need?" You feingned pain in your voice, turning away from him for dramatic effect.
He grabbed your shoulders and turned you towards him, his pupils grew wide as if trying to search for what it is that you need. "My love, what do you want? Just say the word, and I'll give it to you."
You looked down, again for the theatrics, and Baldwin lifted your chin. "Go on."
"You never- never asked me to marry you."
"Huh? But I did today-"
"No, you stated it- demanded I marry you." You furrowed your brows and looked down again.
Baldwin smiled. Of course, how could he have not asked you? You were a girl after all, you want to be courted the traditional way. Its not your fault that you dont know that kings do not ask permission for things. They just get it, because who would refuse to marry a king?
He kissed your forehead, lifting your chin again to meet his eyes. "Im sorry, princess. I shouldve asked." He took your hands in his and had that charming smile again. "Will you marry me, Y/n?"
"No." You shook your head. "I... I cant marry you, your majesty." You said, adding tears into your eyes. His brows furrowed in concern.
"What? Why?" You tried pulling your hands away but he didnt let go, tightening his grip ever so slightly.
"I-" well, you could say that youre not catholic and the church would never let you two get married, but you also dont wanna be tortured for being a "heretic". Maybe religious differences could be the last plan. Taking your silence as hesitance, Baldwin spoke. "I can offer you everything and more. Jerusalem would be yours. What is it that I lack that anyone else could offer?"
"I am not a good match for you!" Ah yes, lets do the typical "its not you, its me." You bit your lip as you yanked your hands out of his and walked towards the window, your back to him (theatrics). "You and I are not equals- no we are nowhere close! Youre a king, your father was a king, your family is royalty. I come from nothing, as did my ancestors. There will never be stability in our marriage when we come from such different backgrounds!" You never thought that you would be putting yourself down and call yourself "inferior" to break up with a man.
Silence hung in the air, as you held your breath.
"Youre right." You heard him say behind you. "We are not equals, we never will be." For some reason, instead of being relieved, a chill ran down your spine. Baldwin wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder. "I may be a king, but youre far superior to me. You're an angel, sent to me by God, and you saved me. I wouldnt be king anymore if you werent here, princess."
Warmth spread from your cheeks to the tip of your ears, both due to the close proximity and his words. Sensing your bashfulness, he chuckled, kissing your cheek as he turned you around to face him. You could hear your own heart beat at how close he was.
Baldwin tilted his head, half lidded eyes staring at you. "Youre everything and more that I could ask for, princess. Never put yourself down and compare yourself to me, hm?" He said, giving your arms a gentle squeeze before moving away, but not detaching himself completely as he took ahold of your hand and looked back at you.
"Now that this is settled, let us go eat. I've had the servants prepare a feast for us and then we can discuss wedding arrangements-" shit shit shit shit shit fuck it!
"I'm not catholic!" Baldwin halted at that. You've already said it, might as well dig yourself a deeper hole. You let the tears form in your eyes. "Im... Muslim. I didnt tell you because I didnt want you to think I was working for Salauddin and spying on you for him, you know I wasnt! I really did only want to know about you. Please believe me, I wasnt-"
"I believe you."
What? Just like that.
"You- you believe me?" You breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. Once again, Im sorry i didnt tell you I was a Muslim, but dont worry, I'll pack my things and leave tonight-"
"Why? We still have to get married."
You blinked slowly. "But... Im Muslim?"
Baldwin shrugged. "So? It doesnt change anything."
You looked at him in bafflement. "It does! It changes everything! We cant get married! Im a Muslim! The church wont allow interfaith marriages, and I dont intend on converting to catholicism either if thats what youre suggesting!"
"I am not suggesting that. You can be a muslim if you want to, but we're still getting married." Baldwin stated matter of factly.
"The church wont allow it-"
"The church will do as I say. I am the head of the church. Besides-" He smiled.
"I dont remember angels having to prove themselves to be a catholic. You saved my life, you cured my incurable disease. As far as the church is concerned, youre a miracle sent to me by God. Youre the Chosen One!"
Is he... is he hearing himself? Can you try to convince him?
"But... but Jerusalem deserves a Catholic Queen-" you tried weakly, but he cupped your cheek and smiled gently at you.
"I am Jerusalem, Y/n. And I deserve you." Was all he said before pecking your forehead.
He tugged you along with him. "Now, we have to eat."
You dont want to eat. You want to stay behind and think of another strategy because clearly you cant talk yourself out of this wedding.
"I'm- I'm not hungry." You said, making him frown.
"How is that possible? You havent had anything since morning. I dont want you getting sick before the wedding." Baldwin continued to pull you along.
Does he not listen?
"I dont want to eat- I- dont feel like it." You said a bit harshly this time, hoping he'd take the hint.
And he did, finally stopping. He sighed and let go of your hand. "Okay. I suppose if you really dont want to, we can skip dinner tonight." Fucking finally. "Its just... I seem to have developed a habit of enjoying meals with you. And now that my leprosy is cured and I have no more diet restrictions, I just- I had the kitchen prepare some of my favourite dishes that I was able to enjoy before my disease disabled me."
You stared at him. Is he- is he trying to guilt trip you? Baldwin once told you that due to leprosy he had ulcers in his mouth, and he couldnt eat different types of food, and was only able to have bland, soft goo.
You looked away from his big sad eyes. He's not getting to you. You need to go back to your room, make yourself scarce, be far away from him as often as possible.
"You can still go and eat dinner alone."
With one hand, he cupped your cheek. "Princess, you know I cant eat until you eat too. But its okay, if you dont want to eat, then I wont too. I guess I'll just have the servants finish the chicken roast and oh-! They even made strawberry cream cake for dessert. But- maybe another day."
You looked into his eyes, those blue orbs that were filled with sadness, resembling a kid who was just told "no candy!"
Sighing, you held his hand. "Maybe I can have a few bites."
His face lit up. Ah, he knew you'd come around. "Lets go!"
-
The next day, youre helped by the maids to get ready for the day. Apparently, Sibylla wanted to meet you and discuss some things, and you suspect she wants to talk about the wedding preprations.
The maids had prepared your bath and were very insistent on washing you themselves but you made them all leave the bath chambers. Finally, they compromised when you told them that they could dress you up if they wait outside.
Setting your old clothes on the bed, you entered the bathroom and settled into the warm water. The essential oils and flower petals soothed your mind and body, and you finally had some desperately needed silence to hear your own thoughts.
Last night at dinner, Baldwin was very- well, "happy" would be an understatement to how he felt near you. And all those forehead kisses and skin contact doesnt go unnoticed by you either. You suppose that since he had leprosy, he never really had or was allowed to touch anyone else. But now that hes cured, all thanks to your dumb ass, he craves the physical intimacy.
You closed your eyes as you sank deeper into the warm water. Gosh, did I really have to give him the water? Had I not done that, he would still be ridden with lepro-
Your eyes snapped open. Thats it. You just have to make sure he never drank your water in the first place! Yes! You can go back in time and sure, its always dangerous to go back in the same time period more than once, but you really dont have any other option now, do you?
After half an hour, you finally exited the bathroom and the maids practically ushered you to sit in the chair as they finally, FINALLY got to dress up the future queen of Jerusalem and after a whole hour, they're finally done. And... well you look good. Your hair has been done nicely, and a delicate golden headpiece, almost like a elegant hair band sits on top of your head. They added some color to your cheeks and lips with crushed berries. As for your clothes, they dressed you in a dark blue tunic with loose, flowing sleeves. The tunic itself was made of silk, probably brought in from the Byzantine empire and was only available to the upperclass of this time.
"I am not wearing those!" You said when they opened the jewellery boxes. There were diamonds and other precious stones adorning the earrings and necklaces.
"But princess, you must wear these. It is royal protocol for the king's bride to be, and the future queen to wear the royal jewels." The head maid said. She doesnt know that you dont plan on sticking around and if you leave wearing these jewels, who knows what havoc would that cause?
"No. I dont want to wear them."
The maids shared a look of concern. "What?" You asked them.
"Its just... his majesty picked these out for you himself. He would be mad at us if you were not wearing these." One of the younger servants spoke as she fumbled with her fingers. Through the mirror, you looked at everyone's worried expression. You doubt that someone as calm and collected as Baldwin would lose his marbles over his fiancee not wearing jewellery.
"I dont think the king would be mad at you if I dont wear some jewellery. He isnt one to get angry that easily, you know?" You said chuckling, but it died when you saw them share the same concerned looks again. This time, you turned away from the mirror to look at them directly. "What? Go on, no secrets."
Another maid mustered up the courage to mumble. "Well- it's just- the king- I mean- his majesty is calm but um-" she paused to look at the other maids for help but they all avoided eye contact. "Out with it." You said a bit sternly.
"His majesty... gets... emotional- yes, emotional! When it comes to matters concerning you."
"Emotional? What do you mean? Speak clearly, no word will get out of this room, I promise." You spoke all while glaring at the other maids to make them silently comply to not tattle on their friend.
The maid bit her lip. "His majesty... gets mad when he thinks that you're not being treated well." You gave her a look to continue. "A few weeks back, while you were strolling out in the garden, his majesty reprimanded some of his knights for not escorting you. He asked them why they weren't guarding you?"
A few weeks back? It may have made some sense for Baldwin to be protective of his bride to be, but you two weren't engaged until yesterday. And before that, his relationship with you was barely platonic, more like a king-servant thing.
"Tell her about the kitchen incident too." Another maid whispered.
"What kitchen incident?"
"Um, 2 months ago, when the kitchen had prepared a feast for his majesty, he almost fired the entire kitchen staff for serving olives with the entree." You gave them a quizzical look. "Well, his majesty had told them that you can't eat olives and had told them not to include it in the palace's food. But it was a feast to celebrate his victory and the staff thought it'd be best to add olives because the king likes them."
Your eyes widened at that. He almost fired the kitchen staff because you said you can't eat olives? I mean, it's not like you're deathly allergic, you just didn't like how tart they were and when Baldwin saw you picking them out on your plate, all you could manage to blurt out was that you can't eat them. Perhaps, he thought you had diet restrictions like him.
You huffed. That still didnt warrant such a reaction from him. "That isn't nice. Don't worry, I'll talk to him."
The maid looked at you in horror. "No! I mean, his majesty would not like that we- um..." she tried to come up with appropriate words that wouldn't be insulting. Her scrunched up face as she thought hard made you giggle.
"Fine, fine. I won't say anything to him. You have my word." You said, smiling at them assuringly.
The head maid then held out the pearl necklace to you. You sighed and nodded, and they all cheered as they started picking out the jewels for you.
Its okay. You told yourself. I can always drop them somewhere before time travelling.
-
As soon as you were dressed, one of Sibylla's lady-in-waiting came to fetch you. She hurried you, saying something along the lines of "you must see princess Sibylla right away!" And you couldn't stop her from pulling you along, so time travelling will have to wait.
"Princess Sibylla needs to see you right away, princess!" The maid said as she pulled you towards a room. Knocking on it, the door swung open and you were met with the sight of different gowns hanging on dummies with maids tending to them, and right in the center of the room was Sibylla, practically jumping on her heels.
"Y/n!" She yelled out as she ran towards you and engulfed you in a hug before her lady in waiting, the same one standing beside you, cleared her throat. It caught Sibylla's attention who gasped softly before backing away and immeadiately giving you a courtesy. "I mean, princess Y/n." You gave a nasty look to the lady in waiting before shaking your head at an embarrassed Sibylla. "You don't need to courtesy to me, princess Sibylla."
She immeadiately beamed. "Of course I do! You're not going to be just my sister in law, you're also going to be Queen of Jerusalem! Of course i bow to you."
Me, a queen? Yeah, we'll see about that.
"Still, I consider us friends before anything else." You offerer her a small smile. "You called for me?"
"Oh? Oh, yes!" She immeadiately grabbed your hand and pulled you further into the room. "I didn't know what colours and material you preferred, so I ordered them to bring everything with the best seamstresses in kingdom!" She pointed at the seamstresses, who bowed to you.
"But... I don't need clothes. I already have a wardrobe." Your statement made Sibylla laugh as did a few of her hand maidens.
"Ahh, you're so naive!" Sibylla giggled. "That wardrobe doesn't exist anymore. You're a princess, soon to be queen, you need a royal wardrobe!" She said as she dragged her hand over one of the gowns, feeling the material. "And! You still have to select your bridal gown!"
For the next 3 hours, Sibylla had the maids show you different gowns and materials, even helping by giving her input as to what would suit you.
"I still like my old clothes, they're quite comfortable." You sighed. Designing your new wardrobe was not something that needed your urgent attention at the moment. You need to return to your room and get the time machine from your old dress and leave this era.
Sibylla nods. "I understand what you're going through. I still remember how they burned away my entire wardrobe when I married Guy. But I suppose its poetic in a way. Since you're starting a new life, so why not start one by getting new clothes!"
Wait.
"They burnt all your old clothes?" Sibylla nods. "Mmhmm! In a way, you're burning away your past! And starting a new-" You didn't stick around as you immeadiately rushed out of the room and made your way towards your own.
You can't- your old clothes has your time machine. If they burn it, you can't ever leave!
You burst into your room, looking at the empty spot on your bed where you'd left your clothes before going in the bath.
"No." The maids, they must've put it in your closet. You searched it, searched your entire room but to no avail.
A maid walked into your room, watching you tear apart the bedroom. "P-princess? May I help-"
"Where are my clothes?!" You walked upto her, the poor maid's fright apparently on her face. "WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES!?"
"They- they're burning it-"
"WHERE?!"
"The gardens!"
You ran out of your room, and made your way towards the royal gardens as fast as you could, but with how huge this palace was, getting there took a while. Not to mention when you did get to the gardens, you didn't spot anyone there, but you did notice the smell of something burning, which lead you to the back of the gardens, that was away from everyone's sight.
There you found them, two maids burning your clothes in a small bonfire.
"PUT IT OUT!" You yelled as you rushed towards them, startling them.
"Princess-" they began bowing.
"Didn't you hear me? PUT THE FIRE OUT!" They scrambled about trying to find some water, but of course, they didn't have it.
"I'll get it from the fountain!" The two maids ran to get a bucket of water for you, but it would be too late by the time they came. So when you spotted your old dress burning, you pulled it out with bare hands, not caring about burning yourself.
The dress was mostly burnt to ashes, while only few bits remained that were still on fire. You managed to wrangle out your time machine out of it, the small metal box that was burning hot and left marks on your skin as you tried to hold it.
But even from here, you could see the damage was done. The area that displayed the year had now completely melted off, as did some of the buttons.
No. No. No. No. No. NO!
You couldn't help but cry as reality began to set in. You're stuck here.... you're stuck here forever.
Heart wrenching sobs wracked your body as you tried to hold the hot metal machine in your hands, your skin burning as you tried. Even when the servants came and poured the water on the fire, you still kept on crying, clutching your machine to your chest, partly to conceal it, partly from helplessness.
The maids looked at each in worry as they tried to console you, tried to pacify you, lest you had them executed. But it didn't matter, you were inconsolable. While one of the maids sat by your side, trying to soothe you, the other one ran in to get help.
Moments later, when you were able to hide the machine in your clothes again, someone came up and touched your shoulder from behind.
"Y/n?" You looked up through your tears. It was Baldwin. For some reason, seeing him only made you cry harder as you finally realised that you were stuck here with him. That you fucked up permanently.
"Oh princess. What's wrong? Don't cry- shhh, I'm here." He pulled your body towards him, letting you sob into his chest heartbreakingly. Exhaustion, frustration and shock must have overtook your body, as you fainted in his arms.
"Princess? Y/n?" He tried waking you up before collecting you in his arms and rushing back into the castle.
-
Hours later, you woke up to find yourself back in your room, lying in your bed. Your eyes looked down at your hands which were now wrapped in bandages. They only served as a reminder of what youd lost- your time machine.
Tears welled up in your eyes again. Am I- am I really stuck here? You sniffled.
A hand came up to caress your cheek, startling you.
It was Baldwin. "Princess? Do you want to tell me what happened?" His soft tone made you even more sad, and you raised your bandaged hands to wipe your tears, but he caught your wrists and lowered them back gently, using his own hands to wipe away the tears.
"No, you cant use your hands for sometime. The burns need to heal." His hand remained on your cheek, thumb caressing the area under your eye. "What happened, Y/n? Why were you so upset?"
You cant avoid the topic for long, and now that your way of escape is gone, you need to be careful of what you say and how you act around the king.
You let out a shaky breath. "They... they burned my clothes."
"Mmhm. Dont worry, I will have them bring in the fanciest clothes for you. Sibylla will make sure of it. Only the best for my princess." You shook your head. "Its not- its not that... They were my clothes... they burned away-"
"I know... but its a tradition. The maids burn away the bride-to-be's old clothes to signify that youre detaching yourself from the past and starting a new life." He explained, watching as you sniffled. Clearly, you were still upset over this.
"But the maids, they still should've informed you of this tradition before doing anything. I know how emotional of a transition this could be for girls." You nodded sadly, heart still sinking at the loss of your machine. "Dont worry though, they will be punished harshly for it. I have them in the dungeons tonight, and tomorrow-"
"What? Punished? No!" You cut him off. You dont want anyone to die because of you, especially when you dont know if anyone these people could potentially be an ancestor of yours.
"But they caused you harm. You burned yourself due to their-"
"No, no. Please, don't punish anyone- I- it was my fault for not knowing about royal traditions! Please, your Majesty, I beg you- don't do this- i- i-" You pleaded.
"Shhh, okay. Okay. I won't punish them for it." He patted your hair. "On one condition."
You looked at him in confusion.
"You call me Baldwin from now on." He grinned. "We are to be husband and wife soon, I don't want us to use royal titles with each other."
Your eyes widened. Is he- is he really giving up titles? You're not that blind to see his attempts at intimacy, but what you don't understand is why or even how you came to be on the receiving end of it.
What exactly is it about you that has made him want to marry you? Surely, Baldwin would've preferred to marry someone of this era, someone who is more compatible with him. Despite you trying to blend in the past months, you allowed Baldwin to see how you're not... as Conservative as most people of this time period are. One could say that he may be impressed by how intelligent you are than others, but it also brings up the factor of being "threatened" or "insulted" by the same intelligence.
Even though you consider beauty to be a "subjective" thing, the whole "beauty is in the eye of the beholder", you're not blind to how attractive others are. So why not them?
Did he only like you because you're intriguing? Does he still think you're a spy? Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer?
Probably. Or maybe he really does believe all that mumbo jumbo about you being "an angel sent to save him."
"As you wish... Baldwin."
-
Last night, after Baldwin had left you to rest, you stayed up and tried to figure out if you can fix your time machine, and if not, then can you built another one?
Fucking hell. You closed your eyes. I made it once, I can build it again. But it's easier said than done.
Back in the present, you had the technology to build it. Now? You have to first make the technology and the tools from scratch before you could even get on making your time machine, all while keeping your science project discrete, which was easier before because you weren't going to be married to a fucking King!
Right now, you're sitting in Baldwin's private dining room (yes, there are more than one dining room. He's royalty, what did you expect) having breakfast- well, being fed breakfast.
"You really don't need to do this." You said as Baldwin fed you another spoonful. He smiled as he wiped your lips with a napkin. "I don't need to, I want to. Besides, I don't want my princess starving."
Involuntary, your face flushed. "I- the maids could've fed me. And im not a princess." He frowned slightly. "Why would you- open wide, princess- why would you want the maids to feed you when you have me?" He pushed the spoon to your face as you parted your lips, but then he pulled it away and brought his face close to yours. "Do I make you nervous?"
You backed away immediately. "I- no- I mean-"
He burst out laughing. "I'm- I'm sorry princess, but you are just too endearing!" Baldwin chuckled as he grabbed the spoon again and fed you.
Your cheeks reddened, this time more out anger than embarrassment. "I don't want to eat anymore." You muttered, turning your face away.
He smiled as he brought the spoon to your lips again. "Ah ah, but you still haven't had enough." However, you rejected again, looking away instead of replying.
He sighed, placing the spoon back on the plate. "I'm sorry, princess. I shouldn't have laughed at you."
"You shouldn't have." You mumbled, face still turned away from him.
His lips quirked up a bit. "You know, for someone who insists that she's not a princess-" He turned your face to him gently. "- you sure have all the blandishment of one."
"Blandishment?"
"Flattering actions of a princess." He nodded.
You frowned. "Are you calling me a spoiled princess? A brat?"
"I would never!" Baldwin gasped. "I enjoy you acting like royalty, demanding respect and attention. You deserve it and more. Besides-" He picked up some food on the spoon again and brought it to your lips. "Even if if you were a spoiled, bratty princess, I wouldn't mind. I would enjoy spoiling you, hm?" He nudged the spoon to your lips softly.
You parted your lips, making him smile. It really is hard to stay mad at him when he looks at you with his baby blue eyes. They just- they draw you in.
"Also, before I forget, I will be leaving the castle today to meet Salauddin. So you can either hand out with Sibylla, who still wants to help you design your wedding gown, or your can-"
Salauddin? "Why are you meeting Salauddin? Isn't he your enemy?"
He chuckled. "Only on the battlefield. He and I have developed a friendship, or a mutual respect over the years. As to why I'm going to meet him, is... well, you."
"Me?" He nodded. "Since you told me that you're a Muslim, I thought that we could perhaps have a discreet Islamic wedding- what is it called? Nikkah? So, I could go and learn more about it from Salauddin."
You opened your mouth to protest. You don't need to be part of history as the "king of Jerusalem's Muslim wife" or "the Muslim-Christian wedding that took place during the Crusades", even if it might make the world more progressive.
But then, you didn't protest. "Can I come?"
Baldwin raised a brow at you. "You want to meet Salauddin?" You shook you're head. "Well, no, not really. I mean, I don't mind meeting him, but I just want to get out of the castle for a bit. It's been months since i left this place, I just want to get some fresh air." This could be the perfect opportunity for you, because if memory serves you right, Muslims of this era had made significant advances in science. Maybe you can use their help to get some tools to make the time machine again.
Baldwin looked unsure. "I don't know if it would be safe for you-" you held his hand with your bandaged ones. "Please, Baldwin? Can't you take me with you? And wouldn't I be the most safe when I'm with you?" Ah yes, stroke the male ego.
Finally, he smiled.
"Alright. I supposed it would be fine, after all, you should see the kingdom you're going to be the queen of."
Tumblr media
Thoughts? (Also, I need to go shower rn, so I'll put the read more later. Doing so much effort for u guys, my spoiled greedy children)
Part 3 is here.
853 notes · View notes
narryffdreaming · 23 days
Text
Maisy and Harry are just friends (except they aren't)
Tumblr media
Summary: It all started with the prompt "we're not just friends and you fucking know it", and then it turned into several short scenes about two people who are supposed to be just friends, except they aren't.
ONE-SHOT AU, friends to lovers, angst, romance, sweetness, smut +18 (explicit language and explicit sexual content) 25k words
Tumblr media
It took less than five minutes for a girl to approach him.
Maisy sighed and leaned back in her chair, sipping her almost-empty-drink and watching the scene take place right in front of her.
To be fair, she wasn't surprised. In fact, before Harry had left the table to get another round of drinks, she'd thought about making a joke and bet how long it would take for a girl to divert him from his task. In the end, she didn't say anything, of course. First because she worried he wouldn't find it funny, but mostly because she was afraid he would see right through her words and notice how terrified she was about the possibility of seeing him with someone else.
So, yeah, she wasn't surprised, but that still didn't mean she wasn't upset. After all, she had spent the entire day secretly hoping things between them would be different now.
"You're staring," Niall muttered next to her, taking the seat Harry had been occupying until a couple of minutes ago. "Already told ya, if you want him, talk to him."
Maisy scoffed, shaking her head as if she could also shake his words away. Niall was sweet, but he was also oblivious to the fact that Harry already knew about her feelings and, still, nothing had changed. Although, if she really thought about it, maybe things were even worse now.
Ugh, why was he acting like that? Why did he keep pretending nothing had happened?
Harry was one of her closest friends, and one of the things she loved the most about him was how sweet and thoughtful he was to everyone around him, especially to those he cared about. That's who he'd been to her since the first day, at least. So even if he didn't feel the same, surely she wasn't expecting for him to simply ignore her feelings.
Over a week had passed and she hadn't talked to anyone about it. As the days went by, it became obvious that the more she thought about what had happened, the more anxious she felt. She figured she deserved to be honest and talk to someone, so she straightened her body and pushed her shoulders back, turning towards Niall and taking a deep breath before finally letting the words out of her mouth.
"We kissed."
Niall pulled his beer away from his face and turned his head, facing her with an open mouth and widened eyes. "Wha—Who? You and Harry?" 
Maisy nodded, and Niall jerked his body closer. 
"What the fuck?! You two kissed? When? How?!"
His reaction made her chuckle, but she dismissed his excitement by shrugging and finishing her drink before speaking again—as if the story wasn't that important or that interesting (and as if they both didn't know that was obviously a lie). 
"He just came over last week and… I don't know. We kissed?"
It sounded more like a question, like she wasn't sure it had actually happened. But it had. The kiss was real. It had happened and it had made her feel all kinds of different and exciting things. And now she couldn't stop thinking about doing it again. And again. And again. 
"Right," Niall scoffed. "Just like that? After five years hanging out together, out of nowhere, you both just thought you know what? Let's kiss today. Might be fun!?"
Maisy didn't know how to answer that, so she rolled her eyes and laughed lightly. Niall definitely had a point, and maybe in a couple of weeks—or months, or years—she'd be able to explain it better, but right then and there she honestly didn't have an answer. It wasn't supposed to happen and it definitely was not what she had in mind when she invited him over, but they were having fun and laughing and at some point she felt something shift in the air and she just… She just kissed him.
Just like that.
Maisy kissed Harry.
And then Harry kissed Maisy.
A lot.
The memory made her cheeks turn hot, and her belly fluttered. She turned back to the table and looked down, fixing her eyes on her fingers and picking at her nails. 
Niall must have sensed her uneasiness, because he didn't pressure for an explanation, moving on to the next question with a softer tone. 
"Does he know you like him, then?" 
Maisy shrugged. 
"He must know. I mean, he has to know…" She tapped her foot on the ground, narrowing her eyes as she stared at her fingertips, "right?" 
She lifted her eyes just a second, just to question him, and Niall dropped his shoulders. 
He moved closer, throwing his arm over the back of her chair. "Isy…"
She shook her head, then focused back on her nails. "You said it yourself, Ni, we hang out all the time… And, I mean, he stays over a lot, and we cuddle, we hold hands… I don't do that with everyone. You know that. He knows that. And also, I don't know, why would I kiss him like that? Out of nowhere?"
"Because it wasn't out of nowhere."
"Exactly!" She looked up, and her eyes landed on Harry once more. Maisy sighed. "It wasn't."
The girl was still there, talking to him, casually laughing and flipping her hair. And Harry seemed really into it, happily paying attention and nodding to whatever the girl was saying. Smirking so fondly that Maisy could even see his dimple. 
Her chest tightened, and her stomach swirled. 
"God," Maisy laughed bitterly and shortly, rubbing her forehead as she looked away. "I'm so stupid."
"Isy," Niall sighed, "Stop. You're not stupid." 
"I am, though." She shrugged. "It's just… He never looked at me that way, you know?" 
Her voice cracked, and she took both hands up to her face, hiding behind them with an exaggerated grunt. "Fucking stupid…" 
Niall took his hand to her shoulder and sighed, offering half a hug as he squeezed her gently. "That's not fair, Isy. You know how incredibly amazing you are. And to be honest you're just so out of his league. So much better than anyone he could ever date. So he is the stupid one for not seeing what's right in front of him, ok?"
Maisy shook her head. She knew Niall meant well, but she also felt like he didn't understand where she was coming from. See, Maisy knew that Harry liked her, and how much he trusted her — after all, that's why they were friends in the first place. She knew that she was important to him and that she was the first person he'd call or the one he'd run to when he needed something. She knew Harry would let her cry on his shoulder, hold her, share a bed with her, and listen to whatever she had to say. Dates would come and go in his life, but she was still there and he wouldn't let go of her. 
So it wasn't like he didn't know what (or who) was in front of him.
Harry just didn't fancy her. Simply as that. He didn't dream about her in the same way she dreamed about him. And he had never treated her the same way he treated the girls he fancied on their nights out. He had never offered to buy her a drink just because he thought she was pretty, nor had tucked her hair behind her ear just to kiss her neck. He'd never rested his hand on her leg under the table, nor whispered in her ear how badly he wanted to take her home. 
Harry had never shown any signs of being physically attracted to her, and that really, really, freaking fucking sucked. Because there was nothing she could do about that. She couldn't force him to want her like she wanted him.
"Do you want to leave?" Niall squeezed her shoulder. "'Cause I think we should." 
Maisy nodded, then dropped her hands down to the table. "Yeah, please. Let's just go."
"Ok, great." He smiled, relieved at the idea of taking his best friend away from there. "'M just gonna pee and we'll go, ok? Be right back."
Nodding to Niall's words and watching him walk away, Maisy couldn't help but glance over them one more time.
Without a doubt, if Maisy had a choice, she wouldn't actively compare herself to others, knowing it was an unhealthy and worthless habit. Then again, she didn't notice she was doing it until it was too late and her throat felt too dry to even breathe. Because everything about the girl standing in front of Harry seemed perfect, and everything about Maisy sitting at that table by herself seemed ridiculous — she hadn't even at least showered after work, for God's sake!
There were so many differences between her and that girl that it seemed impossible not to feel embarrassed about even thinking something could happen between them, or about even feeling something just platonic for him. 
Besides the fact that the girl was extremely attractive, or that her hair was long, wavy and shiny, or that her dress hugged her figure amazingly, it was obvious that her body language screamed confidence and determination.
And she wasn't doing anything wrong, really, but Maisy wanted to push her away from him as soon as she saw her raise her body to whisper in his ear, touching Harry's arm and making him smile. It only got worse when Harry leaned in and tucked a lock of hair behind the girl's ear, letting his hand slide from her shoulder to her hand, and then resting it on her waist. He smirked, then whispered something back to her.
"'M back, let's go." Niall stood in front of her, frowning while blocking up her view. "'M gonna walk you home, then I'm gonna punch Harry's fucking stupid face. C'mon."
— — — — — 
Maisy had a feeling it was Harry as soon as she heard the knock on her door, hence why she wasn't surprised to see him standing in the middle of the hallway. Still, it was barely past midnight, so seeing him there didn't make much sense—wasn't he supposed to be with the girl?
"Heyyy Haz!" She smiled, trying her best to appear nonchalant despite the fact that she had just spent thirty minutes crying over him in the shower. "Thought you were still at the pub."
"Can I come in?" 
The tone of his voice was one she couldn't recognize, and Maisy froze for a moment. She blinked at him, taking in the intensity behind his glare and the tension all over his face. Her smile faltered, and she furrowed her brows. 
"I—Yes." She took a step aside and raised his hand, showing him the way as if he hadn't simply barged in any other time up until then. "Of course."
Harry stared ahead and walked in, radiating so much tension and heat that Maisy's heart skipped a beat, then immediately sped up. She swallowed, closing the door before following his steps to the living room.
As seconds went by, he didn't turn to look at her, and she was able to spot a slight trace of red lipstick on his neck. It was hard not to picture him and the girl together, but it was even harder not to think about how it had felt to tangle her own fingers through his curls while tasting that same bit of skin. And it hurt that, no matter how much she wished she could kiss him again, somebody else had done that already just earlier that night.
"Are you ok?" she asked, pushing the memories away. "Did—Did something happen?" 
Harry snorted. "I don't know. You tell me."
Maisy frowned, scrunching up her face and blinking a few times while trying (and miserably failing) to organize her thoughts. 
"What? I—What's… What's that supposed to mean?" 
Harry remained silent, though, and her chest tightened. Closing her hands into fists, she licked her lips and took a breath in, then looked him up and down.
"Haz, please…" her voice trembled, but she still tried. "What's going on? Talk to me."
Nothing changed, and she swallowed. 
"Can you at least look at me? Please? I don't—"
"Why?!" He turned around, then, so abruptly that Maisy's mouth fell open as she took a step back. 
"Why didn't you talk to me? Huh?!" Harry glared at her, his jaw tightened and his brows snapped together while he threw his hands in the air and raised his voice. "Why did I have to go through a massive fight with Niall to find out that you have—That you—I mean—" he paused, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. A moment passed while he took a deep breath, only for him to give a humorless laugh right after. "Jesus, it's so absurd I can't even say it."
"What…Why—Why are you so mad at me?" She wrapped her arms around herself, knowing Harry wasn't making any sense, but at the same time scared for what she thought he was implying. Had Niall gone back to the pub? He had walked her home only a couple of hours earlier, they'd talked a little, she'd cried on his shoulder, and then he'd left. She hadn't thought about where he would go next, just assuming he'd go straight back to his place, but maybe she'd been wrong? She just… She didn't… What was happening? "I—I didn't do anything. I don't even… I don't even know what you're talking about."
"I'm talking about the fact that Niall just yelled at me for half an hour for apparently breaking your heart, Maisy. That's what I'm talking about!"
There was a pause. A long and painful pause.
Harry's chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, fists clenched while his arms remained at his sides and he glared at her. 
Standing a few feet across from him, Maisy's eyes welled up with tears. She knew Harry like she knew the palm of her hand, and out of all the times she'd imagined him finding out, anger had never been present. Shock? Sure. Sadness? Yes. Worry? Also yes. Pity? Almost every time. She'd imagined many things, and different emotions. Everything. Anything. But never that. 
She'd never thought he would ever throw words at her so carelessly, so loudly, and so harshly. On top of that, she also didn't think she deserved them. Because, really, what had she done besides stupidly falling in love with him? She'd never gotten in his way nor stopped him from living his life. So, yeah, truly—why was he so mad at her?
She swallowed down her tears and clenched her teeth, blinking rapidly as adrenaline rushed through her veins. 
"Oh, I see." She took a step closer and nodded, straightening her body and allowing her hands to talk along with her own raising voice. "So what? Niall tells you that you broke my heart and this is your reaction? What the hell Harry?! Did you really think this was a good idea? Coming back to my place in the middle of the night just to yell at me?! What were you thinking?!"
Harry flinched, and blinked. A mix of emotions flashed through his eyes, until he settled with anger once again.
"Of course I didn't think or plan this, Maisy! That's exactly why I'm here. I'm trying to understand because it doesn't make any sense!" 
"What doesn't make sense?"
"Everything was fine, Maisy!" 
She rolled her eyes and looked away, taking her hand up to pull her hair back and letting him say whatever he wanted to say. 
"So I don't get it, ok?! I don't! And we were having fun tonight! Man I met this amazing girl, and was just about to take her home when Niall started yelling at me. For fucks sake! Out of nowhere! Of course she left and now I'm—"
"Okay, okay. Stop," she interrupted, holding her palms up and staring back at him. "Just… Just stop, please." 
Harry frowned even deeper, and a long, low sigh fell through Maisy's lips. There was no point in arguing with him, and she knew that. 
"I get it, okay?" she added. "And I'm very sorry for ruining your night with this amazing girl. I swear I didn't mean to. I left the pub just so I could come home and cry by myself. So trust me, I didn't want to bother you with this, ok? And I swear to God I didn't want Niall to go back and tell you about it. I didn't want any of this to happen. So I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry."
She dropped her weight on the couch and breathed in, then slowly rubbed her temples and breathed out.
It was the realization of how exhausted she sounded that made Harry stop and pay attention to her for the first time since she'd opened the door. He noticed the lack of energy, the way she covered her face, the way she hunched her body as if she needed to hug herself. As if she needed to protect herself. 
It only took one second and one attentive glance for all of his anger to melt away, and a big wave of guilt crashed into him.
Unfortunately, though, Harry didn't know how to handle that situation. It was a new dynamic between them, a new path for a friendship that wasn't supposed to take that turn. So he continued justifying himself, although much more carefully than before.
"It took me by surprise, y'know? That's all. I was—" He shut his mouth and shook his head, exhaling before going back to explaining himself. "It doesn't matter. The thing is that Niall just came out of nowhere, so mad at me, Isy… I couldn't understand what was going on, and then he was blaming me for breaking your heart and talking about how you—saying that you have—I mean—That you have—"
"That I have, what?" With closed eyes, she dug her fingertips into her forehead, then shrugged. "Just say it, Harry, c'mon."
He frowned, unable to move.
"Is it true? Do you?"
"Again, what?" Letting out a hollow laugh, she dropped her hands down to her lap and looked at him. "You have to at least say it."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because it doesn't make sense! It— it can't be true. We are just friends and—"
"Oh, c'mon Harry!" She stood up, taking a step forward if only to make sure he wouldn't ignore her next words. "We're not just friends and you fucking know it."
"No! I don't—I mean, yes. Yes we are. We're just friends, Isy!"
"Just friends? Really?"
"Yes!"
"Well…" She shrugged, and looked away. "Not to me then, I'm sorry."
Harry took a step back and widened his eyes. And then, he blinked, pulling his hair back with one hand and resting the other on his hip before glancing down at his own feet. 
Maisy sighed. A tiny part of her wanted to grab him by his shoulders, shake him up, and yell at him to wake up. Just shout at him. Prove him wrong. 
However, she had no more energy to fight him. Not about that, at least. Her body felt too heavy to even move and her heart had changed into a slow thud inside her numb chest. Harry was her favorite person, but at that moment all she wanted was to be alone. It wasn't her intention to make him angry, let alone disappoint him, and knowing that she'd put them both in that situation only made her feel even more ashamed.
So she decided to be honest. Too exhausted to argue, she decided to stop fighting or running away and just say what she'd been thinking since she'd left the pub earlier that night.
"Look… I don't think we're just friends, Haz. I'm just friends with Niall. I've known him for over 10 years and I've never kissed him. God, I never even thought about kissing him. He slept over plenty of times, but he never asked to cuddle with me, and he never held me the way that you do. Last week I… I kissed you and you kissed me back, Harry. And maybe I got it wrong, but… But you really made me feel like you fucking wanted to, y'know? We weren't drunk, we kissed for hours and we didn't even have sex. We kissed and then you stayed and you fell asleep with your arms around me. And then you woke up and you—" Her voice cracked, and she knew she needed to take a deep breath if she wanted to continue. Maybe reliving every single detail was too much, maybe she didn't need to do that. "Anyway, no, ok? No. You and me, Harry? We're not just friends, and even if you can't say it out loud or believe it's true, I do have feelings for you. I've had feelings for you for a long time now and to be honest, yeah, you really… I'm sorry but you really broke my heart tonight."
Tumblr media
Even with all the chatter around him, Harry caught the soft thump of someone's boots across the busy studio. It was like his mind was searching for the perfect excuse to get distracted, because he instantly dropped the task he was supposed to be doing and focused on the sound, instead. From there on, every noise caught his attention — Nina's fingers tapping against the keyboard, Johnny's phone ringing, Jenny and Patrick laughing as they filled their mugs with coffee, Maria and Julia whispering by the windows. 
Despite not seeing anyone, he somehow kept up with everyone's movements and conversations. Meanwhile, displayed on the screen in front of him, the design he was supposed to be working on since he'd arrived that morning—and that he was also supposed to deliver to a client in less than thirty-six hours—remained untouched. 
"You look like shit," Niall's voice pointed out from behind him, and Harry stiffened on his seat. 
He knew Niall had been right behind him all along. Of course he knew. It wasn't as if he could've expected anything differently. After all, that's how the two had met: they'd joined the agency on the same day and were assigned to sit back to back from each other, then the rest was history. 
Since then, that monday was the first day in over five years they still hadn't said even one word to each other. It was weird, to be honest, but they were both still resentful from the events of last friday's night, and too stubborn to handle the situation any differently. 
So, yeah. To sum it up, Harry knew Niall had been there all along, but he wasn't expecting to engage in a conversation with him. Not yet. Not for another couple of days.
Still, Harry cleared his throat, and shrugged. 
"Yeah, well…" he said, keeping his eyes on the screen. "I feel like shit." 
Niall made a sound that resembled a hum, but then got quiet. And Harry wasn't sure of what he could say next, or if there was anything to say at all, so he breathed in and waited in silence. 
No matter how confusing the latest events of his life had been, if there was one thing Harry was still sure of, it was that Niall and Maisy cared about each other like brother and sister. And that whilst he'd been easily welcomed into the group by the two of them, their friendship already lasted for over a decade, so it would always come first. And he was ok with that, he understood that. Niall knew Maisy in a different way than Harry did, and she would tell Niall things that she would never talk to him about, so there was no point in competing with them. It wasn't even something he would ever try to do, to be honest. 
"So…" Niall cleared his throat. "You went to Isy's."
And there it was. 
Harry closed his eyes.
See? Of course Niall already knew about that.
Sure, it didn't bother him, and it also wasn't a surprise, but… What was he supposed to say? He didn't even think Niall would want to talk to him, so what was he supposed to expect out of that conversation? As far as Harry knew, he had broken Maisy's heart and she wasn't talking to him anymore. And that was it. He had fucked everything up — before he even knew there was something to fuck up in the first place. 
Bloody hell.
Harry sighed, then glanced at the screen in front of him. 
To be completely honest, he had spent the last 48 hours trying to understand what the hell had happened, wincing every time he remembered Maisy's words and shuddering every time he thought about how he'd left her crying by herself on the couch. 
Those same 48 hours had made him feel all over the place, everywhere and yet nowhere at the same time. He was all by himself the entire weekend, locked at home, having to occupy his mind with random, meaningless and stupid little things so he wouldn't drown in his own thoughts. Surely, it wasn't the first time they hadn't seen or talked to each other for a couple of days — although it was something rare to happen — but it was the way they'd left things that kept tormenting him. 
He still had so many questions, because he needed so many answers. He wanted to know more about what had happened, about what had changed, or when, or why… 
And he was also desperate to know what would happen next, because… Well… What was he even supposed to do after all that? 
Harry rolled his chair around, getting himself out of his own spiraling thinking. 
Niall was already facing him, glaring at him. He sat with his arms crossed over his chest and his legs extended forward, clenching his jaw and flaring his nostrils as if he was trying to set Harry on fire. 
Clearly, it was safe to say Niall was still mad at him. And Harry didn't blame him — he was mad at himself, too.
He rolled his shoulders, and finally asked, "Did she tell you about it?"
Niall shrugged once. Briefly and quickly. "Kinda."
Harry nodded. He took one of his hands out of the pocket of his jumper and lifted it to the back of his neck, then massaged some of the stiffness away. There were so many things he wanted to ask, it was hard to choose where to start. He also didn't want to say the wrong thing and have Niall trying to physically fight him again. Things were already bad enough as they were, there was no need to add more drama into it. 
Moving his hand from his neck to his face, he dragged his eyes to the floor and pinched his lip, pulling the skin as he voiced the next question. 
"When did you see her?" 
"Yesterday."
Harry nodded again, eyes still on the floor and fingers still on his bottom lip. 
Across from him, Niall narrowed his eyes. He wasn't just messing around when he'd said Harry looked like shit. A beanie hid his hair, his shoulders were rigid, he hadn't shaved, his jaw was clenched, and he kept constantly squeezing his eyebrows together. Also, judging by the bags under his eyes, he didn't seem to be sleeping that well — or he didn't seem to be sleeping at all. 
Should he be worried? He'd checked on Maisy a lot, but maybe he should've checked on Harry as well, because maybe this whole situation had also messed him up, even if for different reasons. Maybe Harry also needed a friend.
Shit.
Niall took a deep breath and uncrossed his arms, letting his shoulders fall as he straightened his back. "You honestly look like shit mate, did you sleep at all this weekend?"
Harry finally glanced over, shaking his head. 
"I'm just…" He pressed his lips together, scratching his jaw before letting both of his hands fall on his lap. "She hasn't been answering any of my calls." 
Niall lifted then dropped his eyebrows, nodding as if he knew exactly what Harry was talking about.
"Yeah, well…" He shrugged. "I don't think she will, to be honest."
Harry nodded, and looked away. 
He probably deserved that.
— — — — —
"Thanks," Harry said to the waitress as she placed two beers and some fries on the table.
As soon as she walked away, he grabbed a bottle and took a sip, giving himself a few more seconds before asking the question he really wanted to ask. 
"How is she?"
Niall's hand was full of fries, midway to his mouth, and Harry didn't miss the way he froze for one second before looking at him and engulfing them. He didn't finish eating before answering, mumbling the words as he chewed, "She's hurt. And you know how she gets when she's hurt."
"Fuck." Harry ran his fingers through his hair, pulling his head back and sighing to the ceiling. It killed him to know he'd been the one to make Maisy suffer, it killed him that she didn't let him hold her when she cried, and it killed him how she begged him to leave her alone because his presence was only making it worse. "I didn't mean to hurt her. I would never mean that."
Niall scoffed, and Harry glanced down again. He found his friend eating fries absently, as if he wasn't part of the conversation anymore. Scanning them carefully before picking one and shoving it into his mouth. And then another one.
Harry frowned. "What? You know I didn't mean to hurt her, right?"
Niall peeked at him through the corner of his eyes.
"Well…" He tilted his head from side to side, then shifted on his seat and rubbed his hands together, cleaning up the salt. "Look, you didn't mean it. Fine. But I don't think you worried about it either, alright? I mean, you walked to the bar to get Isy a drink and didn't come back 'cause you wanted to hook up with some random chick. Which, by the way, was already a problem in the first place 'cause she had to watch you flirting around. But then, after I told you she has feelings for you, you went back to hers and blamed her for not getting laid? That's fucked up man, c'mon."
"She told you I blamed her for not getting laid?"
Niall lifted his eyebrows. "Didn't you?" 
"I—I don't know, I was just freaking out. You saw when I left the pub, I wasn't even thinking."
"Clearly," Niall snickered, then looked around the pub as he took a deep breath. "Look, she didn't want to say anything 'cause she didn't want to lose your friendship… And, yeah, maybe part of this mess it's on me, 'cause… Well, 'cause I told you about it, alright? But… Mate… Look, you didn't see how hurt she was when she saw you at the bar, ok? You didn't think about her, and that really, really pissed me off."
Rubbing his jaw, Harry rolled his neck and sighed. It was true, Harry didn't see how much it hurt Maisy to see him at the bar. He actually didn't even know Maisy was watching as the girl approached him, but even if he did, he wouldn't have thought it was something that would hurt her. Sure, she would probably tease him for ditching them, or pinch him for leaving her waiting for her drink… But feeling hurt? As far as he knew, that wasn't even an alternative. 
"I don't… I don't get it." He shrugged. "It's not like she never saw me with a girl before. I mean, I've been single since we met, and that's over five years, man. She's the one who had a boyfriend for two fucking years and you never saw me say a word about it."
"Huh," Niall scoffed, curving his lips up as he took his beer to his mouth. He took a sip, then murmured behind the bottle, "I had no idea Maisy having a boyfriend bothered you." 
Harry tilted his own bottle, pointing at him. "That's not what I said. My point is, she knows I hook up every now and then. We always talked about it, and it was never a problem before."
Rolling his eyes, Niall sighed. Harry was really getting on his nerves with those stupid doubts. 
"Well, obviously, this time was different."
"But why? Why was it different this time? What changed?"
"What changed?" Niall laughed, humorlessly and unbelievably, banging his beer against the table and inching forward. He wouldn't expect a kiss to mean something when it came to random hook ups, but he also wouldn't expect Harry to treat Maisy like a random hook up. Harry knew her better than that. And Maisy deserved better than that. Harry couldn't just kiss her and act as if it hadn't happened. He just couldn't. Niall wouldn't allow that. "Are you fucking kidding me?! Or are you just that stupid?!"
"Wha—" 
"You two fucking kissed, mate! C'mon!"
"I—"
"You do remember that, right?"
Harry scoffed. "Of course I remember!" 
"Of course you remember." Niall rolled his eyes and shook his head, chuckling at how dense his friend could be. "Then what? Are you trying to pretend it didn't happen?"
Harry shook his head and stared down at his hands, one of them holding the bottle as the other played with the sticker on it. Of course he wasn't trying to pretend their kiss hadn't happened. He just didn't think it was something that would happen between them, and when it did, he didn't think it would go further than that. He didn't think Maisy saw him that way. Maybe at first, years ago, when they'd just met. But once he realized she'd put him in the friendzone, he didn't think he would ever get out of there. And he'd made peace with that. He put the idea away and locked it inside his mind. But he also wasn't sure if any of that made sense, and he didn't want to say something that would make it seem as if he didn't care about Maisy. Because he did. He cared about her way too much to lose her. 
"I'm not—" Shit. How was he supposed to explain what was going through his mind? "I'm not trying to pretend it didn't happen, that's—that's not it."
"Then what is it?"
"I don't know." He shrugged, feeling a sour taste in his mouth. "I guess… I guess I just didn't think she was expecting something different from me, that's all."
The pause that followed his answer was filled with tension. Harry kept fidgeting with the bottle in his hand, taking deep breaths to clear out his mind. Or perhaps to relieve the memories of that day. Trying to understand why it should've been so obvious to him that Maisy expected more out of them when she didn't say anything about it. Why should've been so obvious to him, when she didn't act any differently the next morning? Why should've been so obvious to him, when she'd barely texted him back the next day? And why should've been so obvious to him if, when he'd invited her to go out for a drink, she'd been the one to suggest that Niall tagged along? 
"Anyway…" Niall said, then put more fries inside his mouth and chewed. After a second, he swallowed, then added, "Everything would've probably been just fine if you hadn't freaked out on her. That was really stupid."
"Right." Harry raised an eyebrow, eying his friend from across the table. "Can you blame me, though? You shoved me over those tables and tried to punch me, mate! Out of nowhere. Did you really need to be so fucking dramatic?"
Niall shifted on his seat, chuckling under his breath as he scratched his neck. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that… I told ya, I was really pissed off." 
Harry's lips curved into a smile. He shook his head, lifting his beer and finishing the liquid inside while Niall ate more fries. 
The tension between them had faded off, so although their conversation died for a couple minutes, things didn't feel awkward anymore. Still, there were a million things rushing through Harry's mind. Because, truly, what the hell was he supposed to do now? He didn't want to lose Maisy. He really didn't. But she wasn't texting him back, nor answering any of his calls, and he didn't want to be invasive and just show up at her door. He wanted to fix things, not make them worse. 
So, playing with the odds, Harry decided to break off the silence and rip off the band-aid that was covering his deepest dilemma.
"What do I do now?" 
Niall gulped the fries down, then drummed his fingers on the table and shrugged. "Do you have feelings for her?" 
Harry looked away. Did he? Didn't he? How was he supposed to know that? It was a very simple and obvious question, and whereas it didn't surprise him, he wasn't actually expecting to answer it. He didn't know how to, to be honest. 
"Can't help you if you don't know what you want, mate," Niall said. "You already know she has feelings for you, so I don't know what you expect me to say… 'Cause either you have feelings for her and go for it, or you don't and you let her go. But there's no way you can pretend nothing happened."
"No, I know that."
"Good. So figure out what you're feeling, and do something about it." 
 
Tumblr media
Three weeks later, Maisy saw him again. 
Lucie had offered to leave him out of her birthday celebrations, but to be honest Maisy didn't think it was fair to shut him off from his entire group of friends. Even if the only reason why he knew them was because she and Niall had introduced him in the first place. 
So there she was, at a gorgeous rooftop club, on a Saturday night, wearing a black top and white pants that she secretly hoped would blow Harry's mind. Showing off as much cleavage as she could, and pairing the high-waist with heels to highlight her curves around her hips. Mingling with the girls, and avoiding Max's hints for a second date. Laughing and chatting with a drink in her hand, while peering at the door and waiting for him to arrive. 
It was kind of agonizing, to be honest. And if she didn't know he was giving Niall a ride to the party, she would've already given up by then. 
But then she finished her second drink, went to the restroom, and as she made it back to the table, she finally saw them. Harry and Niall. Walking up the stairs that led to the terrace. Half an hour late, and the last ones to arrive.
Knowing it would take them a minute or two to reach the group, Maisy took a step to the side and hid behind Callie, placing a hand on her lower back and encouraging her not to move.
"What's up?" Callie asked, turning her head to the side. 
Peering over her friend's shoulder, Maisy shook her head and whispered, "Nothing. He's here." 
"Hmmm…" Callie nodded, then took a sip of her drink. "So what? You are moving on, remember? Going out on dates with Max and all that?"
"Yeah, yeah, I know." Maisy rolled her eyes, giving a dismissive wave of her hand. "I just wanna look at him for one second, then I'll move on… I mean, just look at him, Callie… He's hot!"
Callie chuckled and shook her head, and although Maisy couldn't see her, she could imagine her rolling her eyes at those words. Not because she didn't think Harry was handsome, but because she'd already made up her mind about not supporting her feelings for him anymore. Not after seeing how much he'd hurt her. Still, she didn't say anything else, going back to whatever conversation she was having before and letting Maisy enjoy the view. 
So that's exactly what she did. 
Harry walked with his head low, following Niall's lead and mumbling "excuse me" and "sorry" every time he had to squeeze between bodies. He was wearing her favorite shirt, a custom made checked one he'd gotten last Christmas from his stylist sister, and Maisy bit her lip. He'd left it unbuttoned and layered it over a white t-shirt, its neckline so low that she could see the two swallows facing each other on his chest, as long as his usual gold cross necklace. His curls were shorter and all messed up in his head, and if she didn't know him better, she would've thought he hadn't even remembered to comb his hair after showering. But that wasn't the case, and she was sure it was exactly the look he was going for — it had always killed her how good he looked like that. 
"Niall, Harry, over here!" Diana raised her arm and waved her hand, bursting Maisy's tiny bubble. 
Moving from behind Callie, Maisy walked to the opposite side of the table and took a seat next to Josh. She smiled at him and Eileen, who had her fingers intertwined with his, and pretended not to see Niall stand right next to Lucie and raise his arms up in the air, or how cheers were thrown around them when they started greeting everyone. 
"You ok?" Eileen asked, leaning forward to look at her.
"Of course." Maisy smiled, and nodded. 
Was she, though?
Their voices were mixed up with music, laughter and glasses clinking together, but even so she heard Harry's words loud and clear, wishing their mutual friend a happy birthday and thanking her for inviting him. It's been a long time, you definitely look older, he joked, and Maisy had to really force herself to hold back a smile—and maybe even some tears. 
It hurt to see him like that—so comfortable, so cute, so friendly, and so hot—knowing she wouldn't be able to touch him like she wished to. Above and beyond, it hurt not being able to sit next to him and just chat, make him laugh, and stare into his green eyes while listening to his deep and slow voice. 
She didn't know how to act in front of him anymore, which really bothered her. 
Before their fight, or whatever that had been, being friends with Harry had never been difficult, and her feelings for him had never felt like a problem, so being incapable of at least saying 'hello' to him made her feel immature and stupid. There was a weight on her shoulders pressuring her to quickly find a way to handle the situation, and a voice shouting at her that she was a 28 years-old woman who by now had to know how to remain friends and move on. 
Honestly, though, why did she let this happen? Why did she kiss him? Why did she tell Niall about the kiss? Why did she have to go and ruin everything?
"You think you'll talk tonight?" 
Maisy shrugged. She didn't have to ask Eileen what she meant by that. All of her friends knew about what had happened that Friday night, and they'd all shown different reactions to it. In this case, Eileen was still very supportive of her feelings for Harry, and a firm believer that their friendship was too important and deep to let it die so easily after one mistake. 
"I don't think so," she said, focusing on her friend's eyes to avoid the fact that, had it been a month before, she would've already been wrapped around his arms. "What's there to talk, anyway?" 
"What if he wants to apologize?"
"Who wants to apologize?" Josh asked, sitting in between the two girls. 
"No one—"
"Harry."
"Eileen!" 
"Oops!" Eileen covered her mouth with one hand and widened her eyes. "Sorry! Sorry! He won't tell anyone. I promise."
Josh frowned. "Couldn't even if I tried." 
Maisy sighed. "It's fine. I just—" 
"Hey guys…" Harry's deep voice interrupted their conversation, and they all shut their mouths. 
Maisy held her breath and turned her head, tilting her chin up to look at his face. Harry stood right across from her with a soft smile on his face, hunching over the short table to give Eileen a kiss on the cheek and Josh a handshake. Her pulse raced, and her stomach fluttered. Oh God. She couldn't do that. She just… She couldn't. 
She really couldn't. 
It was too much. 
So when he seemed to finally turn his head towards her, her eyes just darted to the other side, and she was up from her seat.
"Niall!" she shouted, her mouth curving into a wide smile as she raised her arm and waved to get her best friend's attention. "Hii!"
And before she knew it, she was off the table and away from him. 
— — — — —
The music was louder than before, everyone seemed too drunk and sweaty, and it was definitely time for her to leave. But Maisy was having fun for the first time in three weeks, and she didn't want that feeling to end. She had cried too much, for too many days, and a night of laughter and dancing with her friends was all she needed to step out of that sadness.
Or, well, that's what she'd thought, at least.  
Because, see? Maisy was having fun. Until, out of nowhere, her friends decided to start discussing her (nonexistent) lovelife. All over again. 
"Horannnnn! C'mere!" 
Callie waved, and Maisy dropped her head back.
"Nooooo!" she cried. "Stop!"
"Ladies," Niall said with a huge grin on his face, standing between Callie and Maisy and throwing one arm around each one. "What's the shouting all about?"
"Well…" Eileen said, wiggling her eyebrows and hiding a smirk behind the rim of her drink. "We want to know what's up with Harry." 
"What? Why? What did he do now?" Niall dropped Callie and turned towards Maisy, placing both hands on her shoulders and forcing her to look at him. "Tell me and I'll kick his ass."
"Nothing!" 
She really wanted them to stop. How was she supposed to stop thinking about Harry, if people kept constantly bringing him up?
"Mhm, nothing." Callie said. "He's just been fucking ogling her the entire night, that's all."
"Ohhh, that," Niall chuckled, throwing his arm around Maisy's shoulders one more time and then pulling her closer for half-a-hug. "Yeah, I know."
Lucie and Eileen squeaked, the first one quickly demanding an explanation, "What do you mean, yeah, I know?"
Maisy looked away. 
Niall frowned. "Just… Yeah, I know he's been watching her?" 
"Okay, but why is he watching her?"
He shrugged. "I guess he's just so used to it that he doesn't even notice, I don't know. You both should talk, though," —he tapped Maisy's shoulder— "he's honestly been miserable at work."
"And who's fault is that? Huh?" Callie straightened her back, crossing her arms on her chest. "Besides, he's too late, we're rooting for Max now."
"Uh, excuse me?" Eileen scoffed. "Honey, there's no way I'm rooting for Max. I'm totally team Harry." 
"Yeah, I don't know," Lucie said. "I mean, I always felt like Maisy and Harry were end game, y'know?"
"Girls—" 
"But he was such a dick to her!"
"Once, Callie. It was one questionable moment in five years, ok?"
"Yeahh! He's such a sweetheart. I think he deserves the benefit of the doubt."
"Ladies, hey—" 
"Well, I don't. Max stepped up in one week and did something Harry couldn't in five years. That's the kind of man I want for my friend."
"Just let them," Maisy whispered, watching the way her three best friends argued about something that had nothing to do with them. And the exact topic she'd been trying to avoid the entire night. She loved them, she knew they meant well, and she knew they were all drunk, but they were definitely ruining the end of her night. She didn't want to talk about Max, and she didn't want to think about Harry. She just wanted to have fun. Why couldn't her friends let her have fun?
"Are you ok?" Niall asked, directly in Maisy's ear, then squeezed her shoulder.
"Mhm." She scoffed, and tilted her chin towards her friends. "I'm pretty sure if I walk out of here right now, they won't even notice."
"Wanna sit and chat for a bit?"
"Nahh…" She shook her head, then looked around, checking out the different groups of people surrounding them. There was a beat of silence between them, loudly filled by the music, and then she added, "I know he's been watching me." 
Niall snorted. "Don't we all? Guy doesn't know how to be subtle." 
Maisy's lips curled into a smile, and she looked down at her feet. "It doesn't matter, tho. He told me we're just friends, so… I don't know… I don't want to look too much into it." 
"Right. Well…" Niall sighed. By then, he'd already chatted with Harry for weeks, till the point where it felt there was nothing left to talk about. So he knew his friend had fucked up things, but he also knew how deeply he regretted it. If things had happened in a different setting, under different circumstances, Harry's reaction would've been also different. Which is why he'd been feeling so guilty—he'd been the one to throw Harry off, when he knew both of them had more than a few beers in their system. And although he couldn't go back in time and change Harry's actions and words, he could try to make them talk again. 
"Y'know," he started, and then took a pause to think about his next words. "When we talked at work, he told me that your kiss was just a kiss. So I asked if he had ever kissed Callie, or Lucie, or Eileen, right? And, like, he just went in shock, as if what I was saying was fucking absurd."
Maisy frowned. "I'm not following, Ni. I'm not drunk, but I'm definitely not sober enough to psychoanalyze stuff."
Niall chuckled, shaking his head and squeezing her shoulder. "My bad. What I mean is, he didn't think kissing you was absurd, but he thought kissing the other girls was, y'know? I guess he thought that it was so normal that it didn't mean anything."
"That doesn't make sense," Maisy laughed bitterly, shaking her head and taking a step back to look into Niall's eyes as she left her unfiltered thoughts out of her mind. "I don't want my kiss to feel normal, Ni, c'mon. If he didn't feel anything, if he didn't think about doing it again or, I don't know… If it didn't cross his mind even once, then why will I think he wants me? I hate that we're supposed to believe men feel something for us even when they don't say it, you know? Or that we're supposed to believe they love us when they say they hate us. If he can flirt with other girls and let them know he wants them, then why can't he do the same for me? I just—I can't be with someone who won't let me know they want me, okay? I can't. And I won't."
"You're right, yeah, sorry." Niall lowered his head and nodded, knowing she had a point. Maisy shouldn't wait around just because Harry wasn't ready to deal with his feelings, she had already talked to him about that and explained her point of view, and he understood where she was coming from. It wasn't Maisy who had to step up and do something about her feelings. Not anymore. Now Harry was the one who had to let her know how he felt. "'M sorry, Isy." 
Maisy sighed, grabbed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. "I know. You're fine. Thanks for always listening." 
"Anytime, love." He pulled her by the neck and kissed the side of her head, then let her go. "Look at that, now they walked away and we didn't even notice." 
She looked around and chuckled, noticing her friends weren't near them anymore. She glanced back to their tables, then, where she found them dancing with the boys. Josh was there. Max was there. Franklin, Nick and Kevin were there. Ryan was there. And even Tommy had shown up again—attached to a girl Maisy had never seen before. Of course, since he stood next to her, Niall was missing. But besides him, the only one who wasn't around the table was… Harry. 
And to be honest the thought shouldn't have crossed her mind. It shouldn't. And even when it already had, she shouldn't have looked around for him, because deep down she already knew where she would find him and what she would see, and she didn't want to go through that again. 
It had been such a fun night, she'd felt so good again.
She didn't want to look for him.
And yet… 
She did. 
She let her eyes wander and stop right where he was, at the bar, wearing her favorite shirt. 
Again, she should've looked away, but she didn't, because she wanted to know who he was talking to, who was standing in front of him while she only could see his back.
And if she had listened to all of those warnings voiced in her head, if she hadn't waited for him to move a little bit, and if she hadn't waited for the person in front of him to tilt their head to the side, she wouldn't have felt the air getting knocked out of her. Because she wouldn't have seen him there, talking again with that amazing girl from three weeks ago — the girl he was talking to when her own feelings ruined everything for him, and for them. 
 
Tumblr media
"C'mon… C'mon…" Maisy mumbled to herself. Her body shivered while she stared at her phone, watching as the Uber app tried to find her a driver, and she crossed one arm over her stomach.  
She knew she should've worn a blazer instead of prioritizing not clashing her outfit. Or at least she should've been still inside, where it was warm and she could sit down — although that wasn't really an option, because it would've ruined her plans of sneaking out without Callie noticing. 
She tapped her foot against the floor, glaring at her phone. It wasn't supposed to be taking this long, it wasn't supposed to be so hard to find a ride home. 
Maybe she should just walk. She wasn't that far away from home… 
No. Of course she shouldn't just walk. She wasn't stupid to walk by herself on a Saturday night, dressed like that, after having a few drinks. 
Her phone buzzed, the app finally notifying she had a new driver. Leaning against the wall, Maisy sighed. Adam was only thirteen minutes away. Not as fast as she would've liked, but still better than nothing.
Taking in her surroundings, she blocked her phone and kept it tight between her fingers, then placed her arm on top of the other one. Hugging herself. Protecting herself from the coldness. And maybe even from the sadness. 
The street was almost empty, only a couple of people standing on the sidewalk just like her, probably waiting to go home. And except for two or three cars rushing by here and there, there were no signs of anyone else driving around the city.
She looked down, and unlocked her phone. 
Adam was currently twenty minutes away.
"You've got to be bloody kidding me," she muttered. 
"Aha! There you are!" 
Maisy moved her eyes up and to the side. 
Niall beamed at her, one arm stretched out to keep the front door open. 
"Max was just asking about you." 
He looked inside the bar for a moment, then back at her, taking a step closer and letting his hand fall to his side. As he walked, though, the door remained open, until Harry walked through it and let it close behind him. 
Maisy's lungs froze, and her heart thumped inside her chest. 
"Are you leaving?" Niall asked.
Harry's eyes darted to her, and Maisy's eyes darted to Niall.
"Uh, yeah…" She nodded, blocking her phone and holding it tightly into a fist while she squeezed her crossed arms around her body. "I'm just waiting for my Uber."
"Huh." Niall flinched his head back, slightly wrinkling his brows. "Well, just so you know, Max is under the impression he is taking you home…"
Maisy sighed, and rolled her eyes. Unlike Callie, who'd been thrilled about Maisy going out with her boyfriend's best friend, and who thought Harry didn't deserve another single second of her time, Niall knew how guilty and conflicted she'd been feeling about going out with one friend just to get over another one. Even if it had been for only one date, and even if she wasn't planning on doing it again. And even if one friend was nothing like the other. 
Because, yes, her friendship with Max was nothing compared to her friendship with Harry, but Maisy supposed Max would be what she considered just a friend to be, and she didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings like hers had been hurt. 
Although, of course, Max didn't have actual feelings for her, he just fancied her — he fancied her a lot. So badly that he'd spent months waiting for the moment to ask her out. Something Harry had never, ever, cared to do. 
Ugh. 
"I know," she said, diverting her sight across the street before she gave in to the urge of looking at Harry. "I'm trying to leave before he finds me." 
Niall chuckled, and Maisy bit the inside of her cheek to hold back a smile. It was shitty of her, she knew that, but at that moment she was too tired to care. She planned to text both him and Callie as soon as she got home. And she could've (and would've) done that by then already if the damn driver weren't taking so damn long.
"So," Niall said, "you're not going home with Max?"
Maisy shook her head.
"'Cause you don't want to go with him. Right?"
Pulling her eyebrows together, Maisy glanced at him. Was it really necessary for him to word it out like that? She was ready to call him out for asking such a question, when she caught him looking away from her. And then, out of instinct, she followed his line of vision. And before she could even notice and stop herself, she was looking at Harry as well. 
Maisy's world stopped turning. All over again.
Different from them, Harry focused on the front door, moving his jaw and parting his lips as he chewed gum. Silent. Distracted. Hands hidden inside his pockets, shoulders slightly up. Unkempt curls pulled back on the top of his head, clearly getting stuck there after he'd ran his hand through them. 
Maisy's belly fluttered. Everything about him was pretty, no wonder why he walked around so confident all the time. As if he owned the space.
She'd always found herself physically attracted to him, but since kissing him it seemed as if she couldn't hold herself anymore. And the fact that she knew so much about him only made it worse. Because there he was, wearing a shirt she loved so much that she'd borrowed it from him multiple times. And a shirt that, if things hadn't changed so much, and if their friendship hadn't been ruined by her stupid feelings, she knew she would've been wearing it right then and there—and then she wouldn't have been feeling so cold.
Damn. 
What was he thinking? What was he looking at? Was he paying any attention to their conversation? Was he waiting for someone? Oh God. Was he waiting for… For that girl? Was she going to be forced to watch them leave together? Go home together? Oh no. 
No, no, no. 
Please, no. 
Where the hell was Adam?
Maisy glanced at her phone just as it buzzed in her hand. She read the notification, dropping her shoulders and closing her eyes.
"C'mon," she murmured, taking her free hand up to her face and pinching her forehead. "Fuck."
She was so tired. All the fun she'd had with her friends came to an end the moment she saw Harry and that girl talking, and she didn't deserve to have to stand there and watch even more of that. Or to have to hide from her friends. Or to have to stand by herself on a cold night in the middle of the street. All she wanted was to go home, hide under the blankets, and cry. 
"Isy, hey," Niall called, his voice much softer and closer than before. He stood next to her with worry in his eyes, grabbing her shoulder and letting go of whatever he was saying before. "What's wrong?"
Maisy shook her head, taking her hand away from her face and wiping a tear from under her eye. No more crying Maisy. No more crying. 
"Nothing… Just…" She blinked, then stared at her phone. "My uber. He canceled."
"Ok…" Niall tilted his head, trying to get her attention. Or maybe trying to get a look at her face. Or maybe trying to read her emotions. Or maybe just trying to figure out what the hell was going on. "Can't you just get another one?"
"Well," she muttered, peering at him through the corner of her eyes whilst sliding her thumb across the screen. "I'm not stupid, am I?"
Niall frowned. "No, I—" 
"What do you think I've been trying to do for the past twenty minutes?"
"Sorry, I—" 
"I can give you a ride," Harry said. 
Both Maisy and Niall jolted, then turned their heads to look at him. Although he kept his distance, Harry had gotten noticeably closer as well, standing only a few inches behind his friend. Niall seemed to notice that, too, taking a step aside and dropping Maisy's shoulder as he turned to give him some space. 
And then, as Harry fixed his forest-green eyes into hers, and as Maisy kept her head turned to the side and stared back at him, the entire world seemed to —  once again — stop around her. There was nothing but empty and silent distance standing between them, and every nerve in her body seemed to tingle. Desperate to run towards him. Desperate to say yes and let him not only take her home but also make her a cup of tea before going to bed. Desperate to let him wrap his arms around her and fall asleep breathing into her neck as if that was something just friends normally did. 
She squeezed her phone between her fingers, tightly, and made sure to hold as much air as possible in her lungs. Because she truly missed him. She missed being his friend, she missed talking to him, she missed answering his calls. She missed making him laugh, and she missed feeling silly next to him. She missed being able to be near him whenever she wanted to, and she missed hugging him just because she could.
But she also really wanted him. And although she had always wanted him, now it was definitely worse. Almost unbearable. Because now, as she looked at his pinkish and soft lips, she also missed feeling them against the curve of her neck. And as she admired his growing facial hair, she also missed feeling the scratchiness under the palm of her hands as she cradled his cheeks and kissed the hell out of him. And as her body quivered under the intensity of his green gaze, she missed the tingling between her legs caused by the strong grip of his manly hands. 
Maisy hadn't been able to taste all of him, but she'd tasted enough to be scarred for the rest of her life. And it hurt to know he didn't want her back. It really did.
"Shit," Niall cursed, then coughed. 
Maisy blinked, finally breaking away from the spell Harry had put her under and facing forward, where her friend was supposed to be. When she didn't find him, though, she straightened up and stepped away from the wall, scanning around the street. 
"Where—"
"I forgot my jacket!" Niall shouted. 
Following his voice, she got a glimpse of him behind Harry, by the front door, already taking a step into the club.
"Be right back guys!"
And just like that the door closed, and there was nobody else around. 
Nobody but her.
And him. 
Nobody but them.
Emptiness dropped in the pit of her stomach, and her chest tightened. 
Shit. 
She took a deep breath in, folding her arms and rubbing her forearm with her free hand. She didn't know where to look. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know what to say. Her heart was racing, and she could feel her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. Was she supposed to just stand there?!
Peeking at him, she could only see his back. Harry stood ahead of her and to her side, facing the door where Niall had just walked through. Frozen. Hands still inside his pockets, but shoulders more relaxed than before. 
Second went by as silence completely engulfed them. But then he chuckled, looking down and shaking his head while his shoulders moved up and down. 
The sound hit Maisy's brain first, and then it bounced to her chest, suddenly reminding her to breathe again. Her lips curved up, and she licked them before swallowing her feelings down her throat. That was not the time, nor place, to find joy in the sound of his laughter. 
Harry turned around, still laughing. 
"What?" she asked — although she wasn't expecting to. 
"It's just…" He covered his face with one hand, then slid it up his forehead and ran his fingers through his curls. Calming himself down. "Niall."
"Oh…" She furrowed her brows. "Okay?"
"I mean," he added, dropping his hand back down and looking at her. Beaming. Glowing. "He's so fucking stupid. I just remembered he didn't even bring a jacket."
Maisy widened her eyes, then she nodded. "Ohhh…" 
Although she didn't want to, she couldn't help but laugh, too. Maybe not out of happiness, but because Niall could be really silly when he wanted to be. And maybe because it was nice that Harry had felt comfortable enough to share that with her. Maybe because finally, after weeks, they were finally sharing a nice moment together. 
Although, of course, that didn't erase the fact that things weren't okay between them.
She faced forward, across the street and away from him, shaking her head while her entire body shivered. 
"How subtle," she added, placing her folded arms over her stomach and smashing her phone into her side. She still hadn't tried to find another driver, and although she knew she should've, she didn't want to take the risk of having to walk away from him. Not so soon. Not right then. 
"Right?" 
The smile was obvious in his voice, and Maisy was just so hyper-aware of his every moment. Of every detail. Absorbing way more than she'd ever absorbed before. Feeling him way more than she'd ever felt him before. 
And Harry didn't make it easy, because he didn't stop moving. He shuffled on his feet, stepping closer while shoving both hands back into his pockets. He breathed in, then heavily breathed out, taking his time to walk until he was in front of her and she didn't have a choice but to look at him. 
He buried his hypnotizing eyes into hers, and Maisy curled her toes inside her boots — desperate to stay grounded and hold her balance.
Harry didn't look happy, he didn't look mad, and he didn't look sad. 
He looked honest, he looked available, and he looked familiar.
He looked like her best friend.
And it hurt, because there was nothing Maisy wanted more than to go back to what they were before, but as they both stood like that for a moment — silently watching each other, and silently waiting for each other — she realized that it was something she would never get to have again. 
How could she? If she wasn't able to be around him without hiding her feelings anymore? If she wouldn't be able to see him dating someone — falling in love with someone — without feeling betrayed and heartbroken? Maybe she'd misinterpreted his actions before, but now that she knew he didn't feel the same way, it wouldn't be fair to hold it against him. She needed to grow out of her feelings, and in order to do so things needed to change. She wouldn't be able to keep interacting with him like she did before.
"I meant it, you know?" he said, pulling her out of her mind. "About giving you a ride home."
Maisy blinked.
"Thank you," she murmured, shuffling on her feet and shrugging. "I'm just… I don't know if that's a good idea." 
Harry nodded. He looked down and between their feet, then back into her eyes. 
"Just so you know," he said, leaving all traces of playfulness behind, "I'm not leaving with her."
Maisy pulled her eyebrows together, and it took her another pause until she could open her mouth and ask, "W—what?"
"I know you saw me talking to that girl, the one from that night," he explained, taking a short step towards her, "but nothing happened between me and her. And nothing was going to. I swear." 
Maisy blinked.
"Oh, okay." 
There was a pause.
A pause in which, against her better judgment, she didn't avoid the intensity of his eyes. And a pause in which, as seconds went by, she was easily consumed by the calmness, the confidence, and the assurance he exuded.
Still, it was hard to figure out what was happening, or where he was trying to get to. She tried to read his expression, tried to understand his emotions, tried to get a sense of his thoughts. But she couldn't. So she asked, "Why?" 
Harry slid his tongue between his lips, then tilted his head. "Why?"
"Yeah…" Maisy shrugged. "I mean, you were really into her, so… Why?"
He curled his mouth into a timid smile, breathing out his answer as if he couldn't believe he had to say that out loud, "Isy… I was an asshole and hurt your feelings because I wasn't aware of things, but I would never do that knowing—"
"Oh my—"
"—what I know now and—" 
"Stop." She raised her hand, the one still gripping that stupid phone, and Harry closed his mouth. "You don't—" She took a deep breath, putting her thoughts in order. "You don't need to stop yourself just because I have feelings for you."
"No, I know. I—"
"Harry, look," she said, putting her hand down and taking a step back from him. "I never meant for you not to go out with her, ok? Or anyone else, for that matter… I can't stop you from fancying people... So if you want to be with her, I mean, you don't need to stop yourself just… Just because you feel sorry for me, okay?"
He closed his eyes and let out a harsh breath, then dropped his head back and looked at the sky for a moment. He didn't have to say anything for her to know that he was thinking about her words, and that he was taking them in before saying something back to her. 
Maybe that's why Maisy didn't rush him. And why she distracted herself by watching the way his throat flexed when he swallowed, and the way he softly moved his jaw as he chewed his gum. His facial hair was always kind of longer on his neck, and also kind of messier — something she tended to forget, because it wasn't really noticeable unless he threw his head back. Just like then. 
"I know that," he said, once again pulling her out of her mind. "Sorry."
She blinked, watching with blurry eyes as he rolled his shoulders and fixed his eyes back on hers. 
"That came out wrong and it wasn't actually answering your question. I didn't walk away from her because I felt sorry for you. I walked away from her because I didn't want to stay there, because I wasn't—I mean, because I'm not interested."
"Oh…" Maisy barely whispered, his words echoing inside her. Then what… What was he doing? What was she supposed to do with that information? What difference did it make? She breathed out through her nose and licked her lips, squishing her eyebrows together and flinching her head back slightly. "Then why… Why are you telling me this?"
"I don't know. I guess…" he said into her eyes, pausing to close his mouth and chew his gum as he took a tiny step closer to her. "I guess I just want to make sure you don't leave tonight thinking something happened between me and her. Because it didn't, and it won't. Not her, not anyone else."
Speechless and breathless, Maisy remained lost inside his eyes. It was hard to make sense of what he was saying, and it was even harder to understand if he meant something else between the lines. Was he making sure she wouldn't cry when she got home? Was he simply protecting a friend? Or was he hoping for something more?
She shook her head and took a step back. See? She couldn't do that. She couldn't be his friend when she would be constantly hoping for something more to be in between the lines. That wasn't healthy. And it wasn't fair. "I— I can't… I—"
"Wait, no!" He took a step forward and raised one arm, then immediately dropped it back to his side. Closing his hand into a fist and opening it up again, he softened the tone of his voice and pleaded, "I'm sorry. I don't… I don't know what to do or… Or what to say to make things right. I don't want to overstep, but I also don't want you to think I don't care about losing you, because I do. I care so much, Isy… And it's been killing me."
"I hate this," she said, dropping her chin down and hiding her face behind her hands. Everything hurt — her stomach hurt, her chest hurt, her head hurt. "I didn't… I didn't mean for this to happen. I didn't want this to happen." 
And then, she cried. 
"It wasn't… It wasn't supposed to be like this."
"Gimme that," he murmured, closing off the distance and taking her phone away from her hand—and from her face. Maisy sobbed, and tears fell down, but she also chuckled, because even amidst everything, Harry was still the same friend who would point out how it wasn't his fault that her bags were too small to carry her things, and yet would always end up keeping whatever she needed safe into his pockets anyway. 
"I know, ok? I know," he added, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her to fully cry into his chest. "And I'm sorry, ok?" He placed his cheek on the side of her head, speaking into her ear. "I really am. I'm the one who messed everything up and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry for making you cry. And I'm sorry for all the times I made you feel less important than you actually are."
Warmth filled up her body, and she sobbed again, squeezing her eyes shut even tighter while pressing her forehead against her hands, and her hands against his chest. 
"There are so many things I should've done differently when it comes to us… I know that. And I'm sorry, ok? I am. I don't want to lose you, Isy. I really want to fix this. Please let me try to fix it." 
Maisy breathed out through her nose and nodded, letting her hands fall from her face and throwing her arms around his waist. 
"Jesus fucking Christ thanks God," Harry instantly breathed out, smashing her even tighter into him and pushing them both towards the wall.
She blinked her eyes open and chuckled, letting more tears fall down and sniffing while turning her head to the side and pressing her ear against his chest. They both shuffled and stumbled, trying to keep up with their clumsy tiny steps until her back hit the wall. Harry stopped and sighed, and Maisy felt every bit of the relief rushing through him — the way he heavily moved his chest up and down, the way he shivered, the way he squeezed her. It was contagious, and it had her sighing as well. Loosening up all the tension. Melting into him.
"I missed you," he whispered, taking one hand to her head and threading his fingers through her hair. 
He stroked her scalp — just like she loved — and Maisy bit her lip, closing her eyes while getting drunk on his cologne. That was exactly where she wanted to be. How she wanted to be. With his heart thumping loudly into her ear, his warmth enveloping her body, his masculine and strong scent filling her lungs. 
Sniffing again, she took one hand up to her face and wiped under her nose, exhaling a groan through her mouth. "Ugh… I'm a mess."
"I don't care."
Maisy rolled her eyes, rubbing her cheeks as best as she could while still caged inside his arms. "But I do."
"Shhhh…" He swagged them gently, then grabbed her wrist and took it back around his waist. "Got a lot of fixing to do, I know. But I missed this, so let me enjoy it."
She sighed, holding her own forearms as she rested her arms on his lower back. No matter how hard she tried to be mad at him, she didn't feel like she actually could. Harry had overreacted and hurt her feelings, sure, but it had been the first and only slip in a friendship that had already lasted five years. He was a great guy, and she knew that — of course Maisy knew that. And maybe that is why the words ended up rolling out of her mouth so naturally when she said, "I missed this, too."
"Yeah?" He scratched the back of her head with his short nails, then kissed her hair. "Do you think…" — another kiss, and another one—  "Do you think you'll be able to forgive me?"
Hadn't she already? 
"I don't…" She cleared her throat, getting rid of the scratchiness from her previous crying. Staring ahead to the empty street, she nuzzled against his chest, then started again. "I don't think it's about forgiveness… I think… I think I just need time."
"Right," Harry murmured, and a moment of silence lingered between them. "Time for what, exactly?"
"It's just… You already know how I feel about you, and I don't think I can be your friend right now."
"Why not?"
"Harry." She rolled her eyes and pulled away, tilting her chin up to look at him while he followed her lead and angled his head down to look at her. He was close — really close — and she had to withdraw her arms from his back to be able to create some more distance between them. 
Harry moved, too, letting her go and taking half a step back. 
And Maisy hated it. 
She wanted to be glued to him all over again. 
"Don't make this even harder than it needs to be," she added.
"I'm sorry, I'm not… I'm not trying to make this harder. I just want to understand, that's all."
"Is it really that hard to understand that I can't be your friend when I have feelings for you?"
Harry frowned. "To be honest, yes. Why can't we be friends?"
"Oh my God," she laughed, but mostly because she couldn't believe how dense he was. If what he needed was for her to spell it out to him, then she would, but only because she couldn't handle all the weirdness and the running around circles anymore. "Harry, you're not just a friend to me, ok? And when I say that I have feelings for you, that means that I want you, ok? I want you so much Harry, and I can't stop thinking about it. It's like… It's like I can't pretend that I don't anymore because that's all I think about. All the time. Every time I look at you I can't stop thinking about how much I want to be with you, and every time I see you with a girl I can't stop thinking about how much I wish that was me. And maybe it was fine before, but we kissed and now… Now I just… I just can't, ok? That's why I need some time. Because I can't pretend anymore and I can't—"
"Then don't." He stepped closer again, instantly placing his palms on her cheeks and cradling her face. 
Staring into her eyes, Harry was so filled with emotions and so determined to hold her close that her body quivered. And her belly fluttered. And her heart sped up.
Maisy blinked. "What?" 
"Don't pretend you don't." he said, not even once faltering his gaze away from hers. "Let me know how much you want me. I wanna know, ok? I want to know how I make you feel. And I want to keep making you feel this way for me. Or more, or better, I don't know. I just… I want all of this with you. I want you, ok?" 
With widened eyes, Maisy breathed in and out through her nose. Quickly. Shortly. Desperately. Making her chest go up and down erratically. 
"I…" 
No more words came out of her brain, and Maisy froze like that. Blinking at him with parted lips and out of breath. 
Harry's eyes flicked to her mouth, then traveled back to her eyes. With featherly touches, he brushed his thumbs up and down her cheeks, then bowed closer. 
"So don't stay away," he murmured, glancing at her lips once more before closing his eyes and pressing their foreheads together. "Don't take some time. And don't stop thinking about me. Yeah? I didn't react properly the first time, but I love the fact that you have feelings for me. Don't get rid of them, please."
She grabbed his wrists, keeping his touch in place while closing her eyes, too. "Please don't… Don't say those things if you don't mean them."
He shook his head, and his nose nudged hers. 
"You know I wouldn't," he said, breathing warmly into her face. "I would never—I want you, Isy. I want you and I want you way more than just a friend."
And just like that first time, back at her place, Maisy knew it was about to happen. It was written all over him, and it burned inside her. It made her tremble—out of excitement, out of nervousness, out of fear, and out of anticipation. 
So she squeezed his wrists, and fluttered her eyes open. 
"Let's…" She swallowed, aware of the closeness between them. "Let's get out of here."
Still leaning into her forehead with his eyes open, Harry nodded. He took another moment to breathe in deeply, then opened his eyes, too. 
"Ok," he said, drawing sweet circles around her cheekbones before dropping his hands off her face. He met her palms in the process, though, and they automatically held each other, intertwining their fingers together while stepping away from the wall. "C'mon,  then." 
 
Tumblr media
"Niall's going home with Eileen and Josh," Harry said, putting his phone back into his pocket. He threw his arm over Maisy's shoulder and looked side to side, then pulled her closer and guided her to cross the street along with him. "So we're good to go."
Maisy bit her lip and nodded, placing one arm around his waist while holding his hand on her shoulder with the other one. 
Harry had told her he'd parked around the corner and further down the street, and although he'd already driven Maisy home many-multiple-hundred-thousands of times, and for many-multiple-hundred-thousands reasons, it was safe to say she'd never felt that much anticipation about being alone inside his car with him. 
"By the way," he said, leaning to kiss the top of her head and speaking into her hair, "remind me to get him a bottle of something, yeah? Feel like I owe him big time."
She smiled, turning her head to nuzzle into their touching shoulders as Harry took his free hand to the back of her head and stroked her gently. He chuckled and kissed her hair one more time, then faced forward when she did, and dropped his hand to meet her one on his waist. After that, he didn't say anything, neither pressured her to say something back to him, walking in silence as they both hurried to reach their destination.
It was weird, the apparent sudden need they had to be close to each other. To touch each other. Hands grabbing hands, arms giving hugs, sides touching sides. As if they needed reassurance of each other's presence. Or as if they wanted to make sure they wouldn't vanish. 
It'd started as soon as they'd walked away from the club, when they failed so badly at keeping any distance that they kept constantly stumbling into each other's feet. They eventually found a rhythm and a way to hold each other that suited both of them, but that need to stay close (close, close, close) didn't change as seconds—and then minutes—went by. It didn't change when Harry walked to a trash can to spit his gum, and even less when he took his shirt off and placed it over her cold shoulders. It also didn't change when Harry slowed down to get the keys from his pocket, nor when he opened the door of the passenger side for her to get inside.
"So…" he said, placing his hands on her hips and guiding her to stand between him and the opened door, "Where am I taking you now?"
She placed her hands on his chest, now covered only by his white t-shirt, and tilted her head to look up at him. Harry wanted her. He'd said so, and she didn't think he would ever lie to her—not about something like that, at least. And yet, her mind couldn't stop wondering. So instead of guessing the answer, she decided to openly ask him.
"Do you still mean the things you said?"
Harry nodded. "Every single word."
"About everything? I mean, do you really want me?"
Curling his mouth into a smile, he sneaked his hands under her shirt—his shirt—and slid his arms around her waist, resting them on her lower back and right above the curve of her bum. 
"I really, really want you, Isy," he said, straight into her eyes. 
"Why? What changed?"
"Nothing changed," he eagerly answered, and then he slowed down a bit. "I think… I just… I don't know." 
He dipped his chin down and drew his sight off from her eyes, then shuffled slightly on his feet. "I think I just wasn't able to put two and two together by myself… That's all."
He shrugged, and Maisy bit the insides of her bottom lip. 
In five years, she had never pictured a less confident side of him. Harry was the kind of guy that always managed to be proud of himself, and that always found a positive outcome in every situation. All the time. Even in his most embarrassing moments. So it was honestly weird to see him act like that. 
At the same time, the prospect of having new things to learn about him felt really nice. And exciting. Something she wouldn't be able to do if she didn't lay all of her cards on the table. Right there and then.
"That day…" she said, pausing to lick her lips and breathe in. Gathering the strength to point out the thing that had hurt her the most. "Harry, that day you really made me feel like I was getting in your way of—"
"Ugh. I know—" 
"—being with that girl and—"   
"—I know. I'm sorry, 'm sorry." 
He grunted and cursed, pulling her closer and hiding on the curve of her neck. And Maisy let him, closing her mouth and listening to whatever he had to say. Just like she had done that other night.
"I'm really sorry," he repeated. "I don't… I don't have any excuses for the way I reacted. I know that. I—Fuck." Pulling away to look into her eyes again, he took one hand off from her back and placed it on her cheek, tenderly but firmly holding her as he kept talking. "It caught me off guard and I… I fucked up, I know. But I would choose you over absolutely anyone and everyone, Isy. Anytime. No doubts." 
His words hit deeply inside her, and a warm glow flowed all over her. A joyful glow. As if her body had burst with bright, sparkling, and multicolored bubbles. 
So she bit her lip, and twisted the neckline of his t-shirt around her fingers. 
It was hard to know what was the right thing to do. Rationally, her mind told her to not make it so easy for him. To give it some time, and see if he was actually telling the truth. If he actually meant it. 
On the other hand, despite everything, her heart knew what it wanted. She believed his words, she believed he wouldn't intentionally hurt her, and she believed people deserved the benefit of the doubt. More than anything, she also wanted to believe that if she ever made a mistake, the people that she cared about would give her a second chance. So why couldn't she do the same? 
"I know," she said, so softly she wasn't even sure he would be able to hear her. But then Harry brushed his thumb on her cheekbone, acknowledging her words, and she immediately kept going. "And I believe you're sorry. I do. I just… I think I'm scared, or… I don't know. I convinced myself you didn't want to be with me in that way, so… I don't know…" She shook her head. "I don't know."
He nodded, drawing gentle circles on her cheek. "Niall said… He said something about how you don't think I'm attracted to you, is that true?"
Maisy widened her eyes. "Oh my God! Niall told you that?"
"I mean—"
"What else did he say?!"
"Nothing! He just—"
"I'm gonna fucking kill him!"
Harry pursed his lips, and then laughed.
"It's not funny!"
She pinched the exposed skin on his chest, and Harry jolted. 
"Ouch!" He looked back at her with both a frown and a smile on his face. "What was that for?" 
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe for yelling at me for talking to Niall instead of talking to you? And then you talking to Niall instead of talking to me?" 
"Right… Ok, yes. I can see you have a point there, but in my defense—"
"There's no defense!" She pinched him (again), and Harry jolted (again). He took the hand on her face to rub the new stinging inch of skin on his chest, smiling while she kept lashing out at him. "Can't believe you two, honestly! Dickheads! Gossiping like two little—"
"Ok," he said, taking his index finger to her mouth and pressing it into her lips. "Listen to me, woman." 
Maisy narrowed her eyes at him, but she suddenly didn't have anything else to say, so she exhaled heavily through her nose and consented to his demand (albeit silently and annoyingly).
"Good." Staring into her eyes, he slid the pad of his finger side to side, slightly brushing it to her parted lips. "Niall was just calling me out for not letting you know how I feel, ok? That's all." 
Harry glanced at her mouth, then switched his index finger with his thumb. The place he both touched and stared at seemed to buzz, and heat bloomed through her cheeks. From then on, no matter how much she tried to keep paying attention to his explanation, she simply couldn't put the information together anymore.
"Told me you didn't think I fancy you," he added, just as entranced with the movement of his thumb as she felt, "and that you couldn't read my mind, so if I wanted things to change…"
He put more pressure to his finger and pushed his way between her lips, bumping into her teeth. "I had to show you."
Intoxicated and absorbed, Maisy bit into his short nail, holding him there. 
Harry smirked, and met her eyes once again. "Or something like that…"
It was hard to tell what was going through Maisy's mind, then. Mostly because she couldn't care less about her rational thoughts anymore. She didn't want to think anymore. She didn't want to know about Niall's suggestions—or whatever he said—and she didn't want to hear Harry's apologies anymore. All she wanted was to feel, so that's exactly what she did.
Keeping her eyes fixed on his, she leaned in, then slithered her teeth through his nail, stopping where the skin of his thumb began. His fingertip rested on the tip of her tongue, and her belly quivered and swirled in expectation of his reaction. 
To her delight, Harry sank his shoulders and gawked at her. Some new, dazzling determination took over him, and even his eyes seemed to darken as he shifted his arm around her lower back and pulled her closer. Gripping at her side with one hand, he moved his other one and got deeper into her mouth, pressing his thumb in, in, in, until her teeth clamped around his first knuckle. 
Maisy molded her lips around his shortest and chubbiest digit, keeping it locked between her tongue and the roof of her mouth. She tasted him softly, running slow circles with her tongue while still watching him. Harry faintly smirked, so much that it was almost undetectable, and she took that as a challenge. Because she wanted more. She wanted more reactions, and she wanted more actions. So she placed both of her hands around his wrist and closed her eyes, then sucked his finger in. 
Harry stiffened at first, and then he cursed, breathing out heavily through his mouth while taking a tiny step forward and spreading his other four fingers open on her face. 
"Damn, Isy…" he murmured.
The admiration, pride, and approval in his voice cracked something inside her, and a very familiar feeling pulsed through her veins. It made her go all slippery and quivery. And it brought wet heat between her legs.
Bold and fearless, Maisy swirled her tongue and hummed. Making it dirtier than it needed to be. Making it louder. Making it wetter. 
And he didn't seem to mind it. If anything, he seemed to enjoy it just as much and encouraged her to go even further, moving his thumb side to side while digging his other four fingers into the skin of her cheek and neck. 
It was so good. So unexpected. And so desperate. 
To put so much energy into something like sucking a finger. To feel herself going mindless as she tightened his wrist between her hands and brought him closer, then sucked him deeper. Breathing in and out through her nose, then completely forgetting about their surroundings and pushing her head down to fit his whole finger inside. And losing herself as she sucked. And sucked. All over again. 
"Jesus Christ," Harry murmured, backing her into the back door of his car, tilting her head up and pulling his thumb off from her mouth. "That's enough." 
Everything happened so fast, that before she could even process the information or blink her eyes open, Harry had already pressed his lips to hers in a desperate move. 
They first met awkwardly and clumsily, hitting each other's cheeks and chins. But then Harry cradled her jaw and kept her in place, taking the lead and capturing her lips for a much hungrier and experienced kiss. 
A soft tingle ran between her legs, and Maisy moaned softly, so softly she barely even noticed it. She dragged her hands up to his shoulders, then to his neck, and to the back of his head. Harry hummed, and she threaded her fingers between his curls and tugged, standing on her tiptoes and parting her lips to take things further. Searching for his tongue while he searched for hers. Tasting each other with the same devotion and effort she had just tasted his thumb. Moving in perfect sync, and making sure to taste every corner and every inch.
Harry dropped his hand from her face to her bum, giving it a rough and forceful squeeze and sucking all the air around them through his nose. 
Maisy hummed, holding onto his hair tightly as she rolled her hips forward. Harry smirked into the kiss, then slid his other arm down, filling both of his hands with her ass. He squeezed her again, this time digging his nails into both of her cheeks and pulling her forward while he also stepped closer, and finally fully pressing their hips together. 
His growing bulge nudged between her legs, and a gasped moan came out of her throat. 
"Fuck," he breathed out, breaking the kiss to roll his hips on hers. 
"Oh God…" she sighed, taking the opportunity to drag her wet lips to his jaw. That was so embarrassing. Maisy had to stop. She really had to stop. She needed to stop. They both needed to stop. And yet she couldn't. She didn't want to. Because Harry was getting hard while making out with her. She could feel him pressed against her hips and she didn't want to lose the feeling. She didn't want to step away. So she didn't. She moved her mouth thoughtlessly, instead, savoring as much as she could of him. Feeling his stubble under her tongue, and his scent under her nose.
"Fuck," he murmured, timidly rubbing himself up and down her front. "That's…" He swallowed. "Feels good, baby." 
Maisy hummed, mapping kisses from his jaw, to his ear. She tangled her fingers around his curls, holding her weight while speaking softly and as close to him as she could. "Take me home, Haz." 
"Mhmm…" Harry nodded, his hair brushing her temple. 
She moved back towards his cheek, leaving a wet trail behind while making his mouth her final destination. 
"Please?" she asked, then kissed him shortly. 
"Sure." He nodded again, leaning in— "Anything you want." —and kissing her again.
Maisy smiled. The way he seemed enraptured by her was cute and sweet, but also extremely arousing. She could only imagine the things they would do under the influence of that dynamic, and she couldn't wait to find out. But the only way she would be able to do all the things she wanted to do was if they weren't standing in the middle of the street, only two blocks and a half away from their friends. So she sucked his bottom lip and pulled away, letting it slide softly between her teeth while stroking his scalp.
"Now," she whispered, watching him stand there, at her mercy, with closed eyes and parted mouth. "Take me home, Harry, please."
He opened his eyes. 
"Wha—" He licked his lips, and shook his head. "I mean, yes." Out of breath, he nodded once, and then twice, and then thrice. "Yeah. Ok. Home. Yes." 
Maisy giggled. Still caressing the back of his head, she flinched her chin back and pulled away slightly, only to be able to watch him better. "You okay?"
"Dunno. Think 'm high right now."
She frowned, holding herself from laughing any louder than she should. "High?!" 
"Mhm. Pretty sure I got high from your kisses."
"Oh my God." Maisy snorted. She placed her hands on his shoulders and shoved him off, but his hands on her ass didn't allow her to put any actual distance between them.
"Think I developed an addiction—"
"Shut up." 
"—and your mouth is my drug—" 
" — Harry! — "
" — I need more — " 
" — You're ridiculous—"  
" — Gimme more — "
He kissed her again, and although Maisy couldn't stop laughing at how lame and silly he was, she still kissed him back. He smirked, seemingly proud of her reaction, then moved his large hand to her face and cradled her cheek, leading the way into a much slower and tender pace. His mouth was suddenly gentle, moving carefully while discovering a new side of their relationship. Not a desperate and hungry version, like it'd been up until then, but a smooth and thoughtful one. Made of sweet and calm kisses. Of gentle pecks, and timid tugs. Of wet lips, and honest affection. 
Eventually, their eagerness toned down, dissolving into a different kind of longing for each other. Less desperate on one hand, but much more intense on the other. 
Harry sighed, then broke off the kiss. 
"Let's go," — he pecked her lips one — "then." — two — "Let's go home." — three — "Mine," — four times — "Or yours?" 
One last kiss, lingering longer than the others, and Maisy finally blinked her eyes open. Harry's hand was warm on her cheek, and she felt herself needily nuzzling against it. She took a minute to catch her breath, and also to adjust to the dim lights, taking the opportunity to meet his touch with her own hand and turning her face just enough to press a kiss to his palm. Then, she whispered, "Yours… Take me back to yours."
He leaned in to kiss her temple, then brushed his lips on her skin as he spoke. "Back to mine it is, then."
— — — — —
In five years, Harry had already driven Maisy home, to the grocery store, to parties, from parties, to work, from work, to the hospital, to Niall's, and even back to her parents house. 
In the process, Maisy had watched him a lot. She had watched him enough to memorize the way he would spread his legs and switch his foot between pedals, the way he would relax into the car seat and blindly shift gears, or the way he would place his elbow by the window and hold the steering wheel with one hand. More than not, she'd admired him secretly, too pent-up to say anything, and too afraid to let him show how much he affected her. Only a few times she had been brave enough to praise him out loud, although usually hiding behind some joke about how much he tried to look cool while driving, and never admitting how deeply attracted to him she actually felt. 
That day though, as he drove them back to his apartment, whilst everything seemed to be still the same between them, everything seemed to be just as different and new. Because now, while she watched him turn the steering wheel, she also couldn't stop thinking about what had just happened in the middle of the street. And now, as she watched him flex his arms and shift gears, she also couldn't stop thinking about the feeling that kept dripping out between her legs.
"You're staring," Harry said, stopping at the traffic light. He turned his head to the side and smiled, sliding his now free hand against hers and intertwining their fingers once again.
Biting her lip, Maisy tried her best not to beam at him. It was useless, though, and her mouth ended up curling into the biggest and most genuine grin. 
"I am," she laughed, then shrugged. "You look hot when you drive."
Harry widened his eyes, but there was a twinkle behind his gaze that made her feel comfortable about his reaction. As if the shock of her words did nothing but please him. 
"Hot?" He squeezed her palm. "You think?" 
Maisy nodded. 
"I do, yeah… It's just… Hard to look away."
"Hmm…" Slowly, he let go of her hand, then placed his palm on her thigh, spreading his fingers open and digging them slightly into her flesh. "Keep looking, then."
Heat spread under her skin, and goosebumps rose all over. Harry's hand was large and heavy, and it covered so much of her leg that it was hard not to pay attention to it, or to ignore how close it was to a place she didn't think he would ever actually be. And yet a place that he had teased just minutes earlier. A place that he had rolled and pressed himself against. A place that he had fully woken up that night. 
And judging by the way he grasped her in that exact moment, and by the way he had touched her earlier—so thirsty to squeeze and press her closer—Maisy knew he would be good at… Everything. She knew he would be the one to match the expectations no other guy had been able to match up until then. And she knew that he would be the one to set her body on a whole new level of fire. Not because other guys hadn't been good—after all she'd had some pretty great sexual experiences in her life—but because he was different to her. They felt different. 
And she wanted to get a taste of that. She wanted to have him. She wanted him to touch her. And she wanted it all right now. 
"Ugh." Maisy shuffled on the passenger seat and looked away from him, watching the empty street and covering the back of his hand with her palm. "Why is your place so far away?"
Harry smirked, and although she couldn't see him, she could feel the burning of his eyes all over her chest. 
"It's not, actually," he said, so low and so husky that it felt almost calculated. As if he knew the effect it would have on her. "I think you're just eager to get there." 
He squeezed her thigh, getting his fingertips just a little bit deeper into her, and Maisy faced him again. 
If he wanted to play that game, then she would play it just as well. 
Staring into his eyes, she scooched down a little, then dragged his hand along with hers. Sliding it just an inch up through her thigh. "I think I am, yes." 
His gaze faltered for a moment, dropping down to where she was guiding their touch. Maisy bit her lip, enjoying his attentiveness, and kept moving their hands, stopping only when his pinky finger reached the crease between her thigh and her pelvis. She squeezed his hand, and he squeezed her body, pinching her flesh with his fingers. 
Maisy sighed, hypnotized on how pretty and hot and cute and manly he looked. All at the same time.
"Aren't you?" she asked, making sure her voice acted as a mirror of her current feelings, and sharing with him the sensual and confident side of her. One she had never been able to show him before, but was dying to.  
Harry licked his lips and exhaled through his nose, then looked back at her face. He blinked a couple of times, then asked, "Hm? Am I what?" 
Holding back a smile, she slid her fingers up his wrist, freeing his hand from her touch at the same time she brought her other hand around and placed it on her other inner thigh. 
"Eager," she murmured. She squeezed her own leg, just like he'd done it before, and made her way up to the place her body most wanted him to be. "To get home… And touch me." 
"Jesus Christ." Harry looked between her legs and swallowed, sinking his nails so deeply into her flesh that Maisy couldn't help but hiss at the pain. 
Moving her palm from her inner thigh to the back of his hand, she finally directed him to her burning and aching center. She circled her other fingers around his forearm, holding tightly onto him, and rolled her hips timidly, subtly. Almost as if she didn't want him to see it—but also making sure he would not only see it, but that he would also feel it.
"I want you to touch me," she murmured, rolling her hips for a second time.  
He dug the heel of his palm between her legs, then pressed his fingertips onto her center. "I can see that."
"You don't want to?"
Harry glared at her. Something seemed to have snapped inside him, and his voice got darker when he asked, "What do you think?"
Maisy shrugged, trying hard to create complete, full, coherent sentences while Harry's hand was finally there. "I hope you do. And that I'm not embarrassing myself."
He stroked his fingers through her wetness, curling his fingers and meeting his own palm as he grabbed between her legs—so harshly and so firmly that Maisy closed her eyes and squirmed on the passenger seat. She gasped quietly, leaning into his arm and pressing her forehead near his shoulder. Fully letting him take over the situation. 
"I like this side of you." He loosened up his fingers, then moved them up and down, over and over again, spreading her wetness as best as he could despite the layers of clothes that covered her. "Almost made me lose my game over there. But look at you now… Did you always feel like this?"
"Oh God," she mouthed onto his bicep. The fabric of her pants, plus her thong, didn't allow her to feel him properly, but she felt enough to quiver from head to toe, and enough to make her want more. 
She spread her legs wider, and Harry increased the pressure and speed of his stroke, moving his fingers faster and more forcefully. 
"Tell me, did you always feel like this when I drove you places?" he insisted. "Did I always make you this wet?"  
Maisy nodded, and grunted.
"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I know it's—It's kinda inappropriate, isn't it? I—Sorry—" 
"Shh,shhh… It's not." Harry rubbed her covered entrance in circles. Quick circles, experienced circles, making her get wetter and wetter. "Wish I knew sooner, that's all." 
He focused on performing his task with only one finger, then, pressing it between her lips and then rubbing circles in search for that spot that would drive her insane. As soon as he found it, Maisy jolted and moaned, unable to contain herself anymore. 
Still holding onto his arm, she recovered the strength on her other hand, covering his knuckles and fingers and guiding his touch once again. She helped him so he could touch her like she wanted him to, so he could keep pressing and stroking her exactly where she needed him to, and before she could notice it, she was fully rolling her hips on their connected hands. Searching for more friction. Desperate for relief. 
Harry groaned, and she arched her back. He pressed faster, and faster. And she was there. Almost there. So, so, so almost there. 
She just needed some more rolling, just like that, some more gasping, oh God, yes, and then— 
And then someone honked behind them. 
They both jumped. Maisy pressed her legs together and covered her center with one hand, while Harry straightened up and stretched his arm across her chest—as if that would hide her the flush from her cheeks, or the desperation from her breath, or the lust from her eyes. 
The car behind them honked again. And again. 
"Wha—" 
"Green," she breathed out, pointing to the traffic light while her chest moved up and down. Up and down. Up and down. 
And the car behind them honked, again.
"Shit," Harry mumbled, letting go of Maisy to shift gears and press the clutch pedal, then easily letting it go again. "Sorry… Sorry."
Still out of breath, she kept her legs pressed together and nodded. "Yeah, I—Yeah…" 
He sped up before pressing the clutch pedal and shifting gears again, driving as fast as he could through the city. 
Maisy clenched her thighs, then between her legs, and shuffled on her seat. 
Peeking at her, Harry sighed. 
"Shit. I'm sorry."
Maisy nodded again. How long did they just spend there? Stupidly parked at a traffic light? And how many green lights did they ignore? 
"You ok?" he asked, eyes on the road and both hands on the steering wheel. 
She shifted and rearranged herself, feeling the burning desire between her legs turn into sticky coldness. 
"Yeah… I just…" Maisy said, watching the neighborhood through the window and chuckling lightly. "I forgot we were there."
"I know, me too," Harry laughed. "Shit. Completely lost track of time, too." 
"Mhm." 
She laughed. 
And then they both laughed.
Peeking at her again, Harry grabbed her hand one more time, pulling it from her lap and taking it to his mouth. 
"Don't worry, by the way." He kissed the back of her hand, then took their connected hands to shift gears. "I'll take care of you as soon as we get home."
She smiled, then intertwined her fingers with his. "Mhm. You better." 
 
Tumblr media
"Ok," Harry said, turning the steering wheel and straightening out the tires. He put the car into neutral and lifted the handbrake, then took his feet off the pedals and twisted the ignition key. The engine stopped working, but silence didn't have enough time to settle before he tapped her leg twice and spoke again, "Get out." 
He stepped out of the car, and Maisy blinked. Smiling to herself, she shook her head and reached to open her door, but Harry was already there, doing the job for her and offering his hand for her to hold. 
She narrowed her eyes, and looked up at him. 
"C'mon," he said, wiggling his fingers. "Out."
She opened her mouth to call him out for his demanding tone, but ended up snorting and chuckling, instead. 
"Well, look who's eager now," she muttered, taking his offer and grabbing his hand, then getting out and stepping aside. 
The last five minutes of the drive to his place had been completely silent, and although his promise of taking care of her as soon as they got home lingered between them, all the events of that day had finally started catching up with her brain while Harry's thumb soothed the back of her hand and she watched the streets go by through the window. Tiredness and sleepiness got a hold of her muscles, and her thoughts worked at a much slower pace than before. So whilst she still found herself desperate to get to his apartment, she also wouldn't have complained about taking a short nap first. 
"To be fair," he said, "been eager since I first saw you tonight." 
He slammed the door shut, and its bang echoed around the parking lot. Maisy looked around, fixing her outfit while Harry moved to stand in front of her. He seemed to be the only neighbor who hadn't been in the building that night, all the other spots already occupied by different types of cars. Other than that, everything was quiet, as if they were the only two people awake in the entire town. 
"What happened to building maintenance?" she murmured. 
Harry tilted his head and smiled, placing his hands on her hips and caging her between his body and his car. "Building maintenance?"
Looking over his shoulder, Maisy rested her hands on his chest and shrugged. It hadn't always been intense, gray darkness and dim lights, had it? She usually walked into the building through the front door, so she couldn't remember the last time she'd been there, but she was pretty convinced it used to look more appealing than… That. 
"Yes. Half of the bulbs are gone," she pointed out.
He lifted his hands to her face, brushing his thumb over her jawline while sliding the other four to the back of her neck. "Are they?"
Guiding her to look at him, he tilted his chin down and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. 
Maisy sighed and closed her eyes, enjoying his softness. "Mhmm…"
He pulled away, only enough to murmur, "Didn't notice." 
And then he kissed her again. Curling his mouth around her bottom lip and getting a taste of it, then letting it go and repeating the process with the upper one. 
Kind of dizzy, Maisy dropped her palms to his waist, grasping at his t-shirt for some balance  just as he tilted her head to the side and drifted his kisses to her cheek. 
"It's just…" She swallowed, keeping her eyes shut and focusing on the way his wet lips caressed her skin. "Kinda dark… Isn't it?"
Harry hummed, pressing more and more kisses. He took his time moving towards her ear, meanwhile drawing small circles on her lower jaw and pushing her body against the closed door. 
"It is dark, yes," he said, brushing his nose next to her ear and allowing every word to resonate inside her. "Means no one can see us."
Maisy rested her weight on his car, and Harry waved both hands up through her hair, holding it into a ponytail. With a gentle but firm tug, he pulled her head back, then moved his kisses down to her neck. 
God. That felt good. 
Really good.
He kissed her again. And again, and again, and again. Parting his lips slightly and making it wet. Making it sweet. Making it noisy. Hmmmm…
She parted her lips, breathing heavily through her mouth. Heat seemed to rush to every spot he touched, and she could feel her pulse racing in her throat.
So good.
"I mean," she barely managed to say. "Maybe… Someone… Could…"
He hummed again, a little longer this time, letting her know he was listening even though he seemed much more preoccupied about covering her throat with warm, needy and calculated kisses. 
"Yes…" He parted his lips wider, pressing them where her neck met her shoulder and sliding his tongue up and down. Wet, and warm. Once, and twice. "Maybe." 
Harry knew what he was doing, tracing a dreamy and sensual path from one side to the other with his plump and juicy lips. Sucking slightly even now and then, soothing with his tongue, teasing with his teeth. Using his large hands to tilt her head as he pleased. Letting her know how careful and affectionate he could be, but also showing off his power and strength. 
Maisy's heart skipped a beat, and her legs weakened.
"Wanna risk it?" he asked, breathing hot air into her ear.
Twisting her hands around his t-shirt, Maisy opened her eyes. She licked her lips and swallowed, putting herself together and finding the last remains of energy to say something back to him. 
Truth be told, there was something about being the only two in that dark parking lot that made her feel excited to keep going. The danger was a turn on, and there was no other person that could ever make her feel as safe as Harry did, so she knew that if there was a time to be brave and risk it all, that would be it.  
At the same time, the idea of getting caught by one of his neighbors—people she more than often encountered in the elevator or walking in the hallway—brought nervousness to the pit of her stomach. It was one thing to make out passionately and let others know how much you were into someone, but getting caught naked and mid-orgasm was completely different. At least when it came to Maisy, of course.
"That eager, huh?" she asked, facing the ceiling and waiting for him to tilt her head back down. "Can't even make it to the fourth floor?"
Her question put a smirk on his face, and it granted her wishes, causing Harry to tighten the grip of his fingers and guide her to look at him again. 
"That eager, yes." He leaned in, brushing the tip of his nose up and down her own. "Can you blame me?"
He let go of her hair and slid his fingers down, brushing the tips on each side of her neck. 
"Been thinking about you in this outfit since I first saw you tonight." 
He traced her collarbones, then breezed from her shoulders to her forearms, sliding his own shirt off from her arms, and then going all the way back up to her chest once again. 
Her flesh prickled at his touch, and a brief shiver rippled through her, causing Harry's smirk to get even wider.
Just like before, his reaction was enough to snap something inside her. Because even though she enjoyed taking orders and being compliant to someone else's wishes, Maisy didn't enjoy giving all her power away. Not all at once, at least.
So she looked down at her own body, let Harry's shirt hang on her elbows, and raised her eyebrows. 
"This outfit?" she asked, as if she hadn't bought that top specifically for that night. Or as if she had never heard Harry talking to the boys about bloody gorgeous tits before. Or as if she wasn't proud of the curves she had to offer. Or as if she hadn't hoped of getting his attention when she'd put the pieces together and stared at herself in the mirror earlier in the afternoon. 
"Mhmm…" He grabbed the spaghetti straps between his fingers, then followed their path from her shoulders to her chest. "This outfit."
She glanced up again, then watched him carefully and patiently, fluttering her eyelids while drowning her voice in innocence and naivety. "What about it?" 
"Do I really need to say it?"
Maisy nodded. "I would like you to, yes."
Harry hummed, and looked down at her chest. He toyed with the thin straps a little longer, hooking each one inside of his fingers and running through them up and down. 
If Maisy would've had to guess, she would've thought he was pondering his next words. Weighing them up. Choosing them carefully. Making sure they wouldn't go unnoticed, and therefore making sure she wouldn't go unaffected. She'd seen Harry flirting so many times, that she knew how much liked the thrill of the chase. She'd also shared a lot of conversations with him about the subject, so she knew how much he cared about making other people feel good, even when he knew it wouldn't go further than a one night stand—although even if she hadn't talked to him about it, she knew that making people feel good was a trait that played a huge part in who Harry was; not only when dating or hooking up, but just in general.
"Well," he eventually said, clearing his throat and answering her question. "I mean, I didn't want to be disrespectful at the club, but…" 
He moved his hands, leaving the straps of her top behind and tracing its edge instead.
"To be completely honest…" He brushed the tips of his index and middle fingers across her cleavage. Teasingly and featherly. Eying his own movements. Scanning the patterns he drew all over the swell of her breasts. "And only because you're asking…"
He paused to glance into her eyes, then slid his tongue between his lips and looked back down to his hands. 
"I couldn't stop staring at these," he finally added. 
Maisy's skin tingled, and her insides quivered. She closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the way his fingers made her feel. Enjoying the fact that he'd been staring at her breasts. And enjoying even more the idea of him filling his hands with them and giving both a forceful squeeze. Shit. She swallowed. 
Her heart hammered in her ears, though, and her lungs didn't seem to keep up with so much information. She knew Harry could feel her chest moving up and down frenziedly under his touch, meaning that, once again, it would be impossible for her to hide how breathless he made her feel. 
So she would have to use it in her favor, instead.
Shifting on her feet, she leaned fully into the car and breathed in deeply, filling up her chest and pressing her cleavage briefly into his hands. Then, she exhaled through her nose, leaving Harry's fingers running over empty air. 
"And?" she asked, feeling herself taking control once again. "What's your verdict?" 
He peeked at her and took a step forward, fingers finding her again. "My verdict?" 
"Mhm. You like them?" 
Harry wiggled his eyebrows and nodded, letting her know he understood the question.
Focusing on one breast, he moved his index finger up and down, drawing a straight line, then repeating the process an inch or two to the side. 
"I think they're gorgeous," he said, connecting the two lines with a horizontal stroke. 
Maisy smiled. "Thanks. I think so, too."
Harry smiled, too, then moved to her other breast. "You do, huh?"
Once again, he traced two vertical lines, and connected them horizontally with a third one. 
"Mhmm…" 
"Can't see why you wouldn't." He reached her sides and drifted down, roaming through her ribcage. "Can't see why anyone wouldn't." 
He got past the exposed skin of her waist, then to the waistline of her pants.
"These are really nice, too." He sneaked four fingers between the fabric and her stomach, leaving only his thumb out as he grabbed onto the waistline and pulled her forward. Maisy gasped quietly, almost unnoticeable, stumbling on her feet while Harry skimmed his other hand down through her belly. "But I bet this one" —he tilted his chin down while she tilted her head up, and then he cupped between her legs, fully palming and covering her heat— "looks better." 
Maisy snorted, pressing herself into his touch. "Wouldn't you like to know?" 
Holding each other's gazes, they both smirked. 
Harry pushed his hand into her, backing her up and forcing her into the cold car while stepping forward. "Am I supposed to pretend I'm not dying to take your clothes off?" 
Maisy shrugged. "I mean, I would rather if you got right into it, but if you want to keep playing games…" 
Harry's smirk faded away. He rubbed his fingers up and down, making sure to stroke from one side to the other. Harsher. Fully. From her entrance, to her front. Just like he'd done earlier that day. But somehow even better.
Oh God. Maisy blinked, then moved her palms up to his arms, holding tightly onto him while flickering her eyes all over his face. 
Something had happened. 
There were no traces of playfulness or teasing anymore. No more smirks, no more cluelessness. No more fake oblivion. No more mulling over his words. 
Harry looked focused and determined. Sure of himself. And yet ready to crumble. 
"'M not playing games," he stated, touching her. Always touching her. "Would never play games with you."
Oh. The information clicked inside her mind, and she squeezed his arms. "I—I know."
She hadn't meant it like that, and she knew Harry wasn't messing around with her. He wouldn't do that. If he didn't want her, then he wouldn't be with her. Simply as that. 
"Good." He slid his foot between her boots and parted her legs, then spread them even wider with his knee. "Now, I'd really like to make you cum." 
Applying more pressure to his hand, he rubbed circles, just like she'd guided him earlier.
Ohh… Maisy fluttered her eyelids, then fully closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip, holding back a moan and turning it into a soft whine, instead. 
"Can I make you cum, pretty girl?" 
Turning the corners of her mouth up, Maisy nodded. 
"Right here?" He moved faster. "Right now?" 
Oh God. She swallowed, then slid her tongue through her parted lips and glanced at him.
"I—Oh God—" The words flew out from her mind to her mouth, and she dropped her forehead to his chest. "Are there—Shit—Are there cameras here?" 
He shook his head. "Nope."
"Then—"
"We can barely afford light bulbs. Or so I've heard." 
"Oh my God," she chuckled, twisting his t-shirt inside her fingers as the feeling grew more and more intense with each stroke. "Shut up, and—Oh God… Just… Fuck."
"Yes?" he asked, the smile clear in his voice. 
She breathed in and out, heavily and loudly, and slid one hand from his arm to her own waist. Pulling away from his chest, she stared into his green eyes and unbuttoned her pants. 
"Touch me." And then, she unzipped them. "Now." 
Harry smirked. He looked around and over his shoulder, then stood by her side and pushed her further towards the front of the car, closer to the wall. Maisy sighed, and relaxed. It was good to know they were in sync. That no matter how much they wanted to do that, none of them got to the point of disrespecting each other's—or other people's—boundaries. 
And then, he sneaked his hand inside her pants, and every one of her worries and random thoughts vanished away. She focused on him, and on the things he did to her. She focused on the way he stood straighter and stretched his arm, then got in between the lace of her thong and the warmth of her skin. She focused on the way he stepped forward and relaxed his body into her side, too, throwing his free arm around her neck while angling his other forearm to get his fingertips past her hair, and right into her wet flesh. 
"Fuck."
"Fuck."
They looked at each other for a second, and then they both chuckled, simultaneously leaning in for a whole new kiss. 
"Fucking finally…" Harry mumbled. 
He dipped his middle finger between her folds and stroked it up and down, collecting her wetness and spreading it around. Maisy shivered, and her hips jerked forward, almost against her will. With a grunt, Harry pulled his hand off from her pants and broke the kiss, bringing his middle finger to his mouth and sucking it in. 
He closed his eyes when tasting her, and Maisy's body got on fire. Grabbing his t-shirt into fists, she pulled him closer, then licked her way around his jaw. Tasting whatever inch she could reach, and as much as she could, while he put his hand back inside her pants. 
"C'mere." He kissed her again, and dipped his fingers between her folds again. Stroking them up and down. Spreading her open. Getting to know every corner of her. 
Maisy sighed. She moved her hands, grabbing his neck, and his bicep, then let her body react to his wonderful, skillful fingers. His never stopping fingers. Stroking up and down, up and down. Rubbing circles. Pressing her clit. Rubbing her clit. So good. So, so good.
"Oh God." She leaned into him, moving her hips and searching for more friction. "Harry…" 
"Yeah?" 
More. She needed more. 
"Ugh," she practically whined, opening her eyes. "Touch me." 
"I am touching you."
She smacked his shoulder. "Then touch me more."
Harry laughed, then quickly kissed her again. He hunched slightly and pressed his middle finger inside her. Just barely, though, not even making it to his first knuckle before freezing and kissing the corner of her mouth.
"Like this?"
"More."
Half an inch forward. 
"Like this?" 
"Oh my God!" She grabbed his wrist, and glared at him. "I hate you so much right now!" 
He smiled, kissing her cheek, and her chin, then her mouth. "No you don't."
Maisy rolled her eyes. "I do, yes." 
"Hmmm." 
With half of his middle finger still inside her, he pressed one side of his hand on her clit, then went back to rubbing circles.
She let go of his wrist and placed both hands on his shoulders, then threw her head back and rolled her hips back and forth. 
"You said you'd make me cum…"
Keeping the steady movement of his hand, Harry kissed her cheek. 
"You're right, baby."
Baby.
Maisy throbbed between her legs, then squeezed her eyes shut. 
"I did say that," he added, and she huffed. 
"So make me, damnit."
"Alright baby," —he bent his knees, then pushed his middle finger deep inside her— "Alright."
Oh. 
Maisy moaned. 
He slid his hand and pushed his finger out. Then thrusted back inside. Curving it, he pressed it against her wall, searching for that spot that would drive her insane. When he found it,  Maisy's knees wobbled, and she melted into him.
"Oh God." She looked into his eyes, breathing from her mouth while he stared back at her. 
"Yeah?" Out. And in. Hitting into that same spot one more time. "Right there?"
She bit her lip, and nodded. "Mhmmm…" 
He pulled his lonely finger out, then pushed two inside. Aiming for that same delicious spot, over and over again. Making her feel good—so, so good. 
She held onto him, hypnotized as she watched the beautiful green of his eyes, and he threaded his free hand through her hair, pulling her till his lips were against her temple. Breathing into her while he worked his strong fingers inside her. Pumping so hard that she could hear her dripping wetness in the dead-silent parking lot. 
"God…" She bit her lip. "I dreamed about this for so long." 
"Yeah? Is it like you dreamed it would be?"
"Much… Much better." 
Harry sighed, then tightened the grip around her hair and tilted her face to the side. "C'mere." 
He kissed her firmly, then, connecting their lips and keeping them together while he tried his best to angle his arm and hit the spot hidden inside her. 
"Fuck…" She moaned into his mouth. "Can you… Oh God… Can you make it three?" 
He hunched down, wriggling inside her pants to adjust his hand. 
"Shit." He pulled away from her mouth and looked over his shoulder, then back at her. "Can't with these pants… And I don't want to undress you here…"
Maisy nodded. "Okay."
"Sorry." He pumped in and out again.
"It's—It's fine, I just… I need more." 
"Then I'll give you more." 
He pulled his fingers out and held her tightly with his palm, then spinned her body around. Pressing his chest to her back and hovering over her shoulder, he held her body firmly with his other arm, and proceeded to work between his legs. He pressed one finger to her clit and rubbed circles, gradually increasing the speed and pressure of his movements. The new position allowed him to relieve some of his own tension, too, rocking his hardening bulge against her ass. 
Maisy melted into his hold, throwing her arm up and around his neck and holding tightly onto him while moving her hips back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.
Fuck. 
Fuck, fuck, fuck. 
That was so much better. 
Oh God.
He squeezed her tighter, keeping her in place while he made sure to give her everything she needed and wanted. More pressure, more speed. Kisses to her neck, and to her jaw. Breathing hotly into her ear.
"Yes, yes." She pulsed, throbbed, and quivered. "Oh God." 
Harry moved steadily, but faster. Pushing her further, and further.
"That's it, baby," he murmured into her ear. "That's it. C'mon."
He pushed her further and further. And even further. 
Until Maisy finally exploded, shuddered, and trembled. 
''Ah!" 
She fell forward, and Harry grabbed her. Pulling her upright, and driving her through her climax. Out of breath and numb, she grabbed his wrist and squeezed him. Silently begging for him to stop.
He complied and pulled his fingers away from her clit, soothing her and shushing her when she hissed. But then he removed his hand from her pants and automatically took it up to his mouth, licking and sucking the mess she'd made while humming next to her ear. As if she was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted.
Maisy moaned, almost painfully, holding onto his arm around her waist and instinctively drawing circles with her ass up and down his length. 
"Please. Please. Just take me upstairs now." 
— — — — —
The walk to the fourth floor happened in a rush. They didn't let go of each other while walking, nor stopped kissing or touching when they got inside the elevator. And by the time they were inside the living room, Harry's t-shirt was already on the floor and Maisy's boots were long forgotten by the door. 
They blindly guided each other around the furniture, kissing and touching while they unbuttoned each other's pants. Harry's were the first to get lost on the hallway, and Maisy didn't miss one second before feeling him up through his briefs. He grunted and sighed, chasing her mouth while encouraging her to take the rest of her clothes off. 
Maisy stumbled as they got inside his bedroom, and they both laughed, having to slow down and take a deep breath before moving on. But then she sat on the foot of the bed and Harry kneeled in front of her, going along with every single one of her movements and helping to undress her. 
He kissed her legs, and moved his lips up her body, losing himself with her scent when he nuzzled his nose between her legs. He kissed her on top of the laced thong, and then pulled the item off her body. He moved up, and they captured each other's mouths once again. Kissing, sucking, nibbling. He felt her up, and she felt him up. She squeezed him with her palm, and traced him with her fingers. He breathed in and out heavily from her mouth, too worked up to properly kiss her. And then she kissed his bottom lip, holding it and sucking it into her mouth as she slid into the elastic of his briefs and finally touched him. 
Harry moaned. So raw, manly, and helpless at the same time that it made her smile. 
She stroked him up and down, then. Up and down, up and down. He was full, firm, and hot under her hand. Rigid. Solid. His own neediness had already gotten him wet, but not enough for her hand to slide as smoothly as she would've liked, so she pulled it off and brought it to her mouth. 
Harry took the opportunity to take the last item off, his shaft hitting his stomach and making him hiss. He stroked himself, crawling over her body before diving into her neck. 
Maisy squirmed, and moaned. She searched for his hand, and once she grabbed it, she pulled it directly to her chest. 
"Want them in your mouth," she murmured, squeezing her breast with the help of his hand. 
Harry buckled his hips into hers, and cursed into her skin. He sat on his heels and brought her along by her arms, then pulled at the sleeves of his own shirt to take it off her body. 
"Tomorrow morning you're wearing this again," he said, holding up his shirt in his hand and then throwing it to the floor. "And I'm gonna fuck you in it." 
Maisy smiled. "Yes, sir." 
He sighed then shook his head, and she giggled. Lifting one arm, she unzipped her top with the other one. Harry helped her get rid of it, and then he was all over her body once again. Snuggling into her chest and parting his mouth to get a taste of her breast. Squeezing it into his hand and sucking it fervently. Nibbling her nipple, flickering his tongue. Sucking even more. 
"Bloody fucking gorgeous," he mumbled around her. 
"God, yes." She relaxed into the mattress, threading her hands into his hair and arching her body into his mouth. "Take more." 
He sucked deeper, unashamedly slurping as he drooled all over her skin and grinded against her hips. 
Maisy exploded with pure, raw, and wild need for him. She bent her knees and placed her feet on the bed, then spread her legs open. Stretching her arm between their bodies, she grabbed his length and pressed his tip between her folds, rubbing up and down her wetness. 
"Fuck." She moaned, rolling her hips up. 
"Jesus Christ," Harry grunted. "You're so fucking sexy."
He moved to her other breast, massaging the one he had just abandoned. Losing himself in her taste and squeezing her just as fiercely as he sucked her into his mouth. 
Fuck. Maisy really liked that. She really liked when men loved her breasts, but Harry being the one who sucked them into his mouth was mind-blowing. It made her feral. It drove her insane. 
"Hell yes." She moaned, and he moaned. 
She threaded her free hand around his curls and pressed him closer to her chest. Hoping to suffocate him with her breasts. "Keep going…" 
Harry hummed, drinking her in while writhing against her hand.
She scratched his scalp with one hand, and pressed him between her folds with the other. Rocking her hips back and forth while he got drunk on her. "Just like that…"
He searched for her hands, then, slotting their fingers together and sinking them onto the mattress while he devoured her entirely. Letting her breast go with a loud pop and moving immediately to her neck.
"I need you," he mumbled, spreading open-mouthed kisses to whatever he could reach. "Now. I need you now."
She hooked her legs around his waist, adjusting so he could roll and rub himself against her clit. "Mhmm… Please."
He bit her neck, and she dropped her head back, arching into him and squeezing his hands. 
"Condom," he mumbled. "I'll—Condom…" 
"Mhmm…" 
Maisy nodded, dropping her legs to the mattress, and Harry moved, stretching to open the drawer on the bed side table. She took the opportunity to kiss his neck, and his shoulder, tasting him slowly and fervently. He grunted, having trouble concentrating, but eventually grabbed a foil package and moved back to her mouth. 
He kissed her, then pulled away to tore the wrapper open with his teeth, and kissed her again. They moved together to put on the condom, always finding ways to keep meeting for tender and lazy kisses. Once he was ready, Maisy shuffled on his bedsheets and made herself comfortable, watching as he slotted between her legs and then crawled to place one elbow next to her head.
Holding himself with one arm and looking into her eyes, he took one hand down and grabbed himself. 
She hugged his neck, and he teased his tip around her clit, then tapped it twice against her entrance. 
Maisy hissed, and Harry grunted.
"Fucking hell," he muttered, guiding himself inside her body. "I really, really hope I last."
Maisy laughed, and he smiled. And then they kissed. 
She instantly hooked her legs around his waist, resting her heels above his bum and encouraging him to get closer. To go deeper. To fill her. 
Kissing. 
Panting. 
Moaning. 
Shivering. 
Maisy squeezed her eyes together, feeling the burn of the first stretch. And Harry kissed her again. Maybe trying to sooth her. Or maybe because he just couldn't stay away.
"You good?" he asked, caging her head between his forearms. 
"Yeah…" She licked her lips, and blinked. "So good."
"Can I fuck you like this?" he asked. "Wanna see you."
She nodded. "Whatever you want. Just fuck me already." 
Harry chuckled, then rolled his hips, sliding in and out slowly, just to test the waters. 
"Whatever I want?"
Maisy sighed, and nuzzled her hands into his curls. "Yes. Whatever you want."
In… 
And out… 
"In that case," he said. "Wanna fuck you like this tonight."
In… 
And out… 
"And want you to ride me tomorrow."
Maisy smiled. 
In… 
And out… 
"Wearing your shirt?" she asked. 
"Fuck yes." 
In… 
He brushed the side of his nose with hers, and smiled, too. "Nothing but my shirt." 
And out… 
In… 
She nodded. "Mkay…" 
And out…  
"Hmmm."
In…  
And out…
"We'll have…" he started, then kept going as he followed the affectionate and sensual pace of his hips. "The rest… Fuck… Of our lives… To try… Different… Positions… Anyway… Yeah?"
Maisy smiled again. "The rest of our lives, huh?" 
In…
Harry kissed her cheek, then the corner of her mouth. "Too cliché?"
And out… 
She shook her head. "I like the sound of it." 
"Yeah… Me too."
In… 
And out… 
In… 
And out… 
"Fuck," he growled.  
Picking up the pace, he held his weight firmly onto his forearms, then moved his hips and focused on thrusting into her. In and out, in and out, in and out. Faster. And deeper. 
In and out. 
In and out. 
In and out. 
Maisy whimpered and squeezed her arms around his shoulders, needing something to hold onto as he built a frantic pace. 
In and out. 
In and out. 
In and out. 
"Took me all this… Shit… All this time to figure it out," he mumbled. "I'm not—Fuck—I'm not letting you go now."
She arched her back, and sank her nails into his back. "I'm not going anywhere." 
He smashed their mouths together. Rocking his hips into her. Pounding into her. Faster. Deeper. The bed knocked into the wall. And their skin smacked together. 
Hell yes.
So good. 
"Don't stop," she pleaded.
So fucking good.
Loud. 
Desperate. 
Needy. 
Hungry. 
Feral. 
"C'mon baby…" he mumbled around her lips, then took one hand down to her waist. "C'mon…"
More. More. More.
In and out. In and out. In and out.
Deep. Deep. Deep. 
"Y—Yeah… Right—Shit. Right there… Oh my God… Keep going… Keep going…"
"You're so loud," Harry chuckled, squeezing her waist and keeping up the reckless pace. "Fucking… Love… It… Fuuuck."
Maisy gasped. She scrunched up her face, and gripped his ass with both hands. 
"More… I need… More…"
"Jesus Christ…" Still holding his weight with one arm, he let go of her waist and moved between her legs, then rubbed her swollen clit. "Like that?"
"Fuck yes. Yes. Oh God, Harry… Harry… Oh God… Yes."
"C'mon then… C'mon… Let me see you…" 
She moaned loudly, crying out as her walls spasmed and contracted around him and all the tension snapped at once, causing her body to tremble from head to toe. 
"Fuck—" Harry closed his eyes. "Isy— Shit…  I'm… Isy… Fuck." 
He shattered on top of her, pulsing inside her walls as he emptied himself inside the condom and went still with each— 
last— 
fucking— 
thrust. 
"Fuuuuuck."
He held himself and pulled out, then finally collapsed into her. 
.
.
.
Beats of silence went by. Deafening silence. A silence they hadn't ever shared before. Not in five years of friendship. Not with anyone else they'd ever been up until then. A silence that enveloped both of them naturally, that gave them time to recollect their thoughts and catch up their breaths. And a silence that, after another couple of beats, got them both rolling in bed and laughing out loud. 
"Oh my God…" 
Maisy hid behind her hands, feeling the mattress sink as he got up and got rid of the condom. Although she didn't want to, she followed his steps, going to the bathroom and cleaning herself up. 
Moments later, when she walked back into his bedroom, she found Harry laying in bed, wearing clean briefs and waiting for her. 
"C'mere," he said, patting the place next to him.
She curled her lips into a smile and practically ran to him, jumping into his bed and snuggling into his side. 
"Jesus Christ Isy…"  Harry pulled her naked body to himself, sneaking one arm under her neck and sliding the other one around her waist. "I'm so happy and also so fucking mad right now."
"What?" She placed one hand on his chest and hooked one leg around his waist. "Why are you mad?" 
"Because!" He laughed. "Can't believe you've been hiding this side from me all this time."
"Hmm… No I haven't."
"Yes, you have."
"No, because I don't even have a side to hide!"
"You totally do. All loud… Chatty… Bossy…"
"That's not true."
"It isss tho…" 
"Oh, shut up." 
"Exactly!" He laughed even louder, then forced his voice in a poor attempt of mimicking her. "Shut up Harry. Touch me Harry. Fuck me Harry. More Harry. I need more Harry. More Har—Ouch! Heyyyy!"
Maisy let go of his nipple, then slapped his chest. "Stop being stupid!"
"Will you stop fucking pinching me?" he asked, smacking his palm loudly against her ass. 
"Shit!" she yelped and laughed, jolting closer to his body. 
"You like it rough, don't you?" he added right after, then pinched right under her bum. 
"Harry!" Laughing louder, she squirmed inside his arms. "Stop!" 
"You like it rough, and you're filthy." 
"Oh my God." Maisy rolled her eyes, catching her breath between all the laughing. "So? What's wrong with that? Huh?"
"Absolutely nothing."
"Well, then stop judging!" 
"I'm not—What? I'm not!" He shuffled, staring into her eyes and caressing her cheek. "Are you kidding me? I fucking love it!"
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Mhmm… Sure." 
Harry shook his head, and smiled. "Don't be silly… It's just… I don't know, but it felt different, y'know? Like… Fucking great sex… But not just like… The sex, sex, y'know? Everything about it… I don't know. I guess I just never had something like this before… Just… So fun and fucking hot at the same time… Y'know what I mean?"
Maisy bit her lip, and nodded. She cradled his cheek and moved closer, then pulled him in for a slow, sweet, and long, long kiss. 
"Yeah," she whispered, pecking his mouth one more time and sliding her hand to the back of his head. "I know exactly what you mean."
Harry grunted softly. 
"See?" He squeezed her bum. "And you been keeping this away from me! All this time!"
Maisy rolled her eyes—for what felt like the hundredth time. "Okay. Have you thought that maybe, maybe, if you had made a move on me instead of pulling up random girls at bars, you would've known sooner?"
Harry opened his mouth, then shut it again. 
"You're right." He rested his forehead against hers and nodded. Then, he smiled. "Thank God my girl's got attitude, huh?" 
Maisy bit her lip and smiled, too.  
But then, she grinned. So big she even giggled.
"Your girl, huh?"
"Mhmmm…" He caressed her side. "If you want to be, of course."
"Am I going to be the only one?" 
He pulled away, then looked firmly into her eyes. "I want you to be, yes. I want to do this properly. Wanna be with you. Only you. No-one else."
She threaded her fingers around the curls in the back of his head, then stroked his scalp with soft circles. 
"I wanna be with you, too. Want you to be mine."
He smiled, and shrugged. "Already am. All yours."
"Good." She kissed him. "No more being just friends, then…" 
"Fuck no!" He laughed, and pulled her in for another kiss. Then, he murmured into her lips, "Fuck that shit. We were never just friends, anyway." 
Tumblr media
720 notes · View notes
silencesscreams · 5 months
Text
i can see you
james potter x best friends sister!reader (smut)
summary: james develops a strange feeling for sirius’ sister (reader) when she comes to london once her job required her to move. he first off thought she was a shitty person, an awful one with an awfully pretty face. so when sirius offers for her to stay in their loft until she finds an apartment, he decides he’s going to make her want to get out of there as fast as possible, until he wants her to stay more than anything in this whole world.
a/n: omg im so sorry this took so long, i tried my best w this one. also, english isn’t my first language so sorry for any mistakes. inspired by i can see you - taylor swift
warnings: mdni. smut with plot, afab!reader, use of she/her pronouns in reference to reader, use of y/n (I AM SORRY), afab!reader, being shorter than james, muggle & modern day!au, chef!peter, ships included (dorlene, marylily, wolfstar), swearing, cuddling, mentions of alcohol and drinking, a lot of physical touch, kind of public??, kissing, praise, v soft dom!james, fingering, oral (m receiving), light choking, size kink??, penetration, unprotected (don’t do this please), overstimulation
for the past two years, you started to have weekly calls with your brother, to update him on your life and know what’s happening on his.
you got transferred to london because of your job, you couldn’t find any apartments online and you were supposed to move the other week, being really desperate you told him about it, hoping he knew a real estate agent or something like that, but you were incredibly caught by surprise with his answer.
“thats such nonsense, you should just stay in my empty room until you find another place.” sirius said, his phone on speaker as he made a sandwich in the kitchen. james eyed him with a confused look on his face, but sirius decided to ignore it.
“really?” you ask, hopeful, you really could take a break from looking for apartments.
“of course. i mean, remus has practically moved into my room, so we just need to take some stuff of his out, but yeah, its no big deal.” james couldn’t help but look at him like he was crazy, remus’ room was right next to his, hell, remus’ room had a bathroom adjoined to his. james was starting to feel faint.
as soon as sirius got off the phone with you, he started blabbing.
“what the fuck, sirius?!” james said loudly, sirius sighed, putting his sandwich harshly on the plate.
“what now? i’m really just trying to eat here”
“your sister? really?” he looked like he was about to faint.
“she’ll pitch in on the rent, don’t worry about that” your brother tried to get him calm.
“oh please, i dont care about that! you know how i feel about sharing spaces” he was getting stressed, he couldn’t help it. “and you know how i feel about your family, i have been telling you to be more careful these past years but you don’t listen at all!”
it really had to be remus’s room? couldn’t peter just switch rooms and lend her his instead?
“she’s not like my parents, and neither is regulus, they didn’t do anything” sirius paused, “do your best friend a favor, will you?” and he knew he was going to.
“she’s not messy or nosy or anything like that, right?” james asked, giving into it fully.
“please, shes a cleaning freak, she’s worse than my mother” he paused. “that’s an exaggeration but she’s not messy at all, i swear. you wont even notice she’s around.” james doubted that, but he knew how much sirius missed his siblings, and he knew how fond sirius was of you.
james swore to himself he was going to get you to leave either way, he didn’t want you there and he didn’t care if he had to pay more rent because of it. he didn’t like you, he never did. even in school, before the whole sirius moving out thing, he felt weird around you. and he remembered that feeling very well, even if it was many years before, he didn’t feel like he could forget.
-
your moving truck arrived at the building a few hours before you, but when you got there, sirius had already arranged your furniture, which did make you a bit emotional. he had even bought a toothbrush, carefully arranging it in the right side of the cabinet, the side that pointed towards the door of the bathroom that led to your room.
the boys came to pick you up at the train station, you recognized them from sirius’ social media. they were everywhere.
you were extremely confused on why all of them had come and pick you up, you were hoping to see your brother standing awkwardly, instead he was there with all of his roommates. you felt like you were a teenage girl again, trying to talk to your brother during lunch, but his friends were always around.
you recognized remus from the photos he sent you, and peter was always on the background of your calls with him baking something.
and then there was james.
james potter. you didn’t know how to feel about him anymore. when your brother first introduced you, you found him attractive, but then you hated him.
when your brother ran away to his home you couldn’t help but hate him.
sure, your house wasn’t the best place in the world, but he took away your older brother, how were you supposed to feel?
as time passed you started to tolerate his presence. now you really don’t care about him, but he sure looked better than he usually did many years before.
-
you felt like you could kill him.
after living with james for a month you found him obnoxious, rude, annoying and a few other things you were too lazy to mention.
but the thing you hated the most was how invasive he could be.
you barged into his room, he was laying there, crumbs all over his red shirt.
"you should learn how to knock" he rolled his eyes when he said it, your brows furrowed.
"you ate my brownies." you had baked a few because it was bring your kid to work day and you were in charge of the snacks.
“they were really good, i thought peter made them” james paused. “he runs a restaurant downtown, you know, he’s always baking and-“
“i’m gonna have to make a whole new batch. you ate like ten of them.” you were about to get a really bad headache depending on his answer.
“i told you, they were really good.”
if you were in a cartoon you would’ve turn red and there would be smoke coming out of your nostrils and your ears. you had no comment.
you hated when he did that, just compliment you so you couldn’t really hate him that much anymore.
he used your shampoo, but it smelled really nice.
he ate your leftovers, but you really know how to order chinese food.
he even wore one of your biggest shirts you bought when you were in college because you were too lazy to buy pijamas and suddenly that shirt was really nice, because, sure, james potter actually listened to avril lavigne.
he even shrunk one of your favorite sundresses, you almost cried that day and he never even apologized.
the list went on and on, and somehow, every compliment of his sounded like he was taunting you, making fun of you right in front of your face and all you could ever do was thank him.
maybe that’s just how you were, polite no matter what. but you sure didn’t want to be polite to james that day.
“no, you don’t get to do that” you felt like you were being crazy.
“what do you mean?” he chuckled. he so did not chuckle.
“you don’t get to compliment me! that doesn’t bring my brownies back!” the word brownie sure sounded stupid in that moment.
“i’ll bake more for you, but they’ll suck, you know that” he actually sat on the bed to argue, how kind of him.
“the kids will probably die if they eat your brownies.”
“you’re feeding children? where do you even work?” he looked so confused and you kept getting angrier.
“do i really look like the kind of person who would eat a hundred billion thousand brownies? god, james, why can’t you just not touch my shit?”
“that’s not even a real number and there were a lot of them! i thought it wouldn’t make a difference!”
“it wouldn’t, if you had eaten one or two, but you ate half of them!”
“oh please, lets put it to a maximum of 25%, alright?” you felt like you were going absolutely insane. he was probably going to get you in a mental hospital and you’d be walking around, looking half dead, murmuring ‘brownies brownies brownies, i want my brownies back’.
you decided to just give up, slamming the door the hardest you could while heading out.
-
as halloween came around, the bickering with james stopped, you didn’t quite know if it was because of the season or you just got used to each other, but you didn’t mind it much. he could be very exhausting when upset, and you were sure you could too.
you loved fall, maybe it was that you were in a great mood. pumpkin flavored stuff, candles and everything else included.
on the day before halloween, you woke up early, you had to go apartment hunting and once you got back you would try and help peter make deserts. even though your ghost shaped cookies look like very sick jellyfish, you wanted to help. it was the most you could do, you weren’t paying rent, sirius wouldn’t let you. and they were going to throw a party on the next day so you wanted to help them get everything settled.
when you got home you were so incredibly tired, you had spent all day out and it was already 9pm. you had to walk so much you felt like you were your feet would fall off because they were used more on that day than they were your entire life. you were more upset you didn’t get to help with the food though, the pain didn’t really matter that much compared to that.
you just wanted to lay on your bed, put your feet up and-
giggles.
there were giggles coming from your room.
and then you remembered it, the neighbors, a few girls that went to the same school as you and were very good friends with your brother were staying over. a big slumber party of some sort, you and james were sleeping in the living room, because, of course, the four girls formed two couples and they would sleep together separately. no actual bed for you tonight! you really liked them though, so you couldn’t complain.
you knocked on the door to your own room and marlene opened it, cheeks flushed, and you could see dorcas on your bed, doing something on her phone.
“hi, lene” you decided to call her that because sirius called her that, it was cute. “sorry for bothering you both, i just wanted to get my pillow, my blanket and change real quick”
“oh sure, come in” she opened the door and you went straight for the drawer under the bed, grabbing a light green heavy one, you usually used that on winter but it was a cold night and you didn’t really want to bother them by taking your usual one from off the bed.
you never changed clothes so fast, tossing them in the laundry bin along with a shit ton of james’ shirts that were on his side of the sink.
“thank you, have a nice night”
you sighed while going to the living room, to find james sitting on the armchair, shirtless and wearing sweatpants, drinking a beer and watching that 70s show (again). you decided to ignore how good he looked and just get some rest because you really didn’t want go think about james in that moment, or ever as a matter of fact.
you lay down on the couch and throw the blanket over your head.
“you know what bums me out about this show?” james says abruptly, like you would really like to know. you grunt, waiting for his answer. “they really didn’t know when to stop it, its only good until what? season-“
“james, im really tired, i just wanna get some rest, please” you get out from under the covers to say that, so he ignores it fully.
“how did apartment hunting go?” he asks, pausing the episode and asking alexa to turn on some playlist with songs a sad dad would listen to.
“shitty, theres not one good place up for rent in this city, its actually sick”
“yeah, thats tough” he pauses for a brief moment “come here” he said, patting his knee. was he asking you to sit on his lap? was he going fucking crazy?
“i’m sorry, what?” you were so confused, since when was he like that to you?
“get up, sit here with me a little.” were you dreaming? was this one of those weird wet dreams you had in high school?
“james, i’m really tired, my back hurts and i really want to lay-“
“i’ll give you a massage, it’s whatever” he answered, a sad puppy look on his face.
you gave in. you walked over to him and sat on the arm of the chair, but he pulled you onto his lap.
“i need to be close to you, if i’m not it’s really awkward and uncomfortable.” some song you didn’t know was playing.
it was slow and sounded old, you didn’t recognize it.
“james come on, im really tired.” you say, smiling though, you didn’t know why he was doing this. he must’ve had an awfully good day.
“just for a bit.” why were his hands on your waist? why were you nervous. you nodded, you felt that if you opened your mouth to speak, nothing would come out.
you could feel his breathing on your neck, his hands roaming your waist as he lead them up to your shoulders.
his hands were on the low of your back, under your shirt. that was certainly new, and that was really not a massage, but you weren’t complaining.
you looked back at him, wide eyed, what was he doing?
once you turned your face to look at him, you couldn’t look away anymore.
maybe it was how nice he looked in the paused lighting of the tv, maybe it was how warm he felt, when the weather was so chilly recently, whatever it was, it hooked you.
he was looking straight into your eyes and you felt so open to him, it was weird to see him like this.
you felt like you were back in school being head over heels for your brother's best friend.
you heard keys jingling outside, so you stepped away, leaving him sat by himself wondering what he did wrong. sirius opened the door abruptly, scaring james, who looked at him confused.
“sorry, mate, the door was … hey! is that my instrumental playlist?” james turned a bit pink.
“yeah, I was just...” he looked at you. “forget it.” he turned it off. you were pretending to be unbothered, looking at something your phone.
you couldn’t quite wrap your mind around what had just happened.
you unfolded the sofa into a bed, getting comfortable on the right side, but then you felt his eyes back on you as sirius went into his own room.
“oh, sorry. do you want the couch? i can sleep on the chair, i don’t really-“
“we can share. don’t worry about it.” you nod at his comment. what had gotten into him? he turned off the lights, leaving the tv on. you were trying to calm down, sleeping in the same place as him, being nervous about it was so silly, but, still, you could feel your heartbeat.
“you wanna pick something?” he interrupted your thoughts, you didn’t want to watch anything. you wanted it to be over as soon as possible.
“no, you can just go back to your thing, i don’t mind it.” you answered. he laid down by your side.
fuck.
you were going to share the damn blanket.
he unpaused the tv, putting the remote on the right arm of the couch, that was your side. his arm went over you, he wrapped his arm around your waist once he went back to his side, though half of it was empty.
was he trying to spoon you? you could feel yourself getting nervous, your body starting to feel hot.
you (stupidly) decided to test his actual intentions with that, turning to your side to see if he’d pull you in, he quickly did.
you could have died right there.
he had never even hugged you before, was he really horny or something? and so you felt it.
‘oh my god.’ you thought to yourself repeatedly.
you felt his hand on your waist, pulling you closer to him, which was basically impossible with your ass already glued to his crotch.
you ended up sleeping like that, waking up in the morning to the ‘are you still watching?’ screen.
the day was fine, and you found out you and James had a lot in common, you ended up talking the entire evening, he spent the whole party next to you.
you slept in separate rooms at night, but you still spent a while with him in his room talking about all sorts of things. you never imagined how you and james could be alike. you never imagined how could be so sweet, funny and nice.
after the fall holidays you and james became closer and closer, when labor day came up you realized how much you liked him and when thanksgiving came around, you realized how you might actually be falling for him.
he didn’t help with that at all. he was always touching you, you even ended up cuddling when you would watch some awful movie in his room.
you never really got if he liked you as a friend or he wanted something more, until christmas.
you carefully placed your gifts under the tree on christmas eve, so in the morning when you saw a little box with your name on it, you were incredibly excited.
everyone was sat on the living room floor, opening gifts. in the little box was an envelope and it was from all of the guys. there was something written in the paper inside but you didn’t want read it in the moment.
“thanks” you smiled, but you didn’t quite know what it meant.
“we all talked and we want you to put your name on the lease.” sirius said quickly, looking at you anxiously.
“like, actually?” you ask, starting to feel extremely happy because you loved living with them.
“yeah” remus answered, smiling.
“thanks, i really appreciate it.” you couldn’t stop smiling, it felt great to know they wanted you there. james, who was sat next to you, gave you a one arm hug and a kiss on the forehead.
“so you’re gonna let me pay rent now?” you ask to your brother, smiling.
“i guess so.” he replied. you knew he was happy too. “gonna get you an actual gift though”
they were planning a big christmas party, they invited some people from work, the girls and some other people you didn’t really know, so you were expecting to spend the night with james. you went all out, put on your favorite red dress which was short but still fancy for the event.
once you were ready, half of the party was already there, including all of james’ coworkers and friends. you sat next to him on the couch, they were all there all talking about something from his work you didn’t really understand.
they were all dressed up too, but what shocked you the most was that james was wearing a suit, sure, his necktie was already loose and the buttons on his shirt too, but he looked amazing.
“can i stay with you fot the rest of the night? i don’t really know anyone here.” you whispered into his ear, nervous about the answer.
“sure” he nodded. “hey, henry” he called for his coworker that was sitting on the couches arm.
“yeah?” the guy answered.
“this is y/n, the friend i was telling you about the other day.” james gestures to you. you can’t help but smile awkwardly and wonder what he said about you.
“oh, hi! pleasure to meet you.” he got up from his chair and shook your hand, smiling at james and nodding. what did that mean?
“pleasure to meet you too.” you smile at him.
“i’m just gonna get some drinks, i’ll ill be right back. do you want something?” james asked you.
“just a soda.” he gets up and heads to the kitchen.
“so, tell me, how are your brownies?” henry jokes, you look at him confused.
“good, i guess, but thats a biased opinion.” you answer, curious on how he knew about your brownies.
“you know, james talks about you all the time.” he comments, you were sure he already had a few drinks.
“really? what does he say?”
“when you first moved in he hated you, you know? he always said it was fun to make you mad and all. but since october he’s been so nice when he talks about you, i personally think he fancies you, but i wouldn’t know. i don’t think he’d tell me if he did, specially because you’re his friends sister and all.” he was rambling but you really enjoyed the part he said about james seeing you as more than a friend, you enjoyed it so much you didn’t even pay attention to what he said after that.
“i doubt it, we just turned into good friends, that’s all.”
“nah, i think he wants to make you into something else.” henry might’ve just made your entire night with that phrase. you couldn’t hide your smile anymore.
“here’s your soda, a beer for you, henry” james handed the drinks and took a sip of his coke. you sat next to him, holding your soda in both of your hands, looking down at it nervously. “did something happen?” he asked you.
“no, just thinking ‘bout something” you answer, looking into his eyes now. he smiles, wrapping his arm around your waist. that makes you so flustered, you feel your entire body getting warmer and that’s just the start of it.
for the rest of the night, he stayed by your side. his hand resting on your waist, thigh, around your shoulders, wherever he wanted them. you could feel your heart beating in your chest for most of the time. he had never done that before, not in public and surely not like that, not in a sexual manner, at least that’s how you identified it, because one thing was a friendly touch, the other was what he was doing.
he made you feel needy, aching for more - he was making you want him.
did he notice? did he ever even perceive how he made you feel? how could he not?
goosebumps covered you once he grazed your thigh for the first time out of five, the fifth was when he finally let his hand stay put there.
it made you feel crazy, it really did.
you didn’t know if he meant it as you took it, but you really hoped he did.
the party was still going around 1am, james had disappeared and you were left sitting on the couch, waiting for him to come back.
you couldn’t stop thinking about him and it made you feel kind of silly. you were a bit disappointed that nothing happened but you sort of expected it. you knew nothing would actually occur, but still, it made you a bit sad. maybe the touch lead you on, but it-
you looked at your phone once it vibrated and you felt the absolute need to scream because of how excited the text made you, but you didn’t.
‘James: come to my room once you read this, please.’
you didn’t think much of it, though you would’ve come if he just asked you to like he normally did.
you finished your drink and knocked on his door. he opened it but didn’t look at you, his eyes were focused on your knees, he looked nervous.he was still wearing his pants and the dress shirt, except it was unbuttoned. shit.
“y/n?” he was looking at you now.
fuck.
“yeah?”
“you look really good tonight.”
“i clean up nice sometimes.” you smile.
“oh please, you always look good” he turned a bit pink once he said it. “and thats a really nice dress” his voice was low when he said it, was he actually hitting on you?
“thank you” you whispered, you couldn’t help but feel anxious as his body got closer to yours.
“you know, i’ve been thinking about something for a while now” he says. you could feel your stomach start to twist and turn because you were so anxious on what he was doing next. you hummed, making sure he would continue what he was saying, but he didn’t.
he just kissed you like it was the easiest thing in the world. he pulled you into his room and closed the door, locking it quickly.
the feeling of his lips on yours was something you craved for a while now, you needed it so much you started to wonder if it was normal for you to need something this much.
you couldn’t stop once it started. his hands were on your hips and you tugged onto his hair desperately.
kissing him is redefining the whole concept of kissing to you, and probably ruining every other sexual experience you could have for the rest of your life.
he pushed you into the door, his hands now on your ass.
“shit” he let out quickly as he stopped kissing you so roughly and started giving you quick pecks. “you have no idea for how long i wanted to do this.” you hummed. “you’re so fucking hot, it makes me crazy.” the praise was making your stomach twist again, a wet spot being formed between your legs.
he carried you with your legs around his body and took you to his bed. the same bed you have used to lay down to watch movies, to just gossip or discuss things, to do whatever.
he sat down and kept you on his lap, straddling him, but you needed more. as he kissed you roughly and messily you would casually rock your hips, causing friction. after you did that a few times he laid you down on the bed, telling you to stop being such a tease, he got on top of you, supporting himself with his knees, one of them between your legs, causing friction and making you more aroused.
when he started playing with the strings that held the dress together, you knew you were done for, so you let him undo the bow, kissing your neck. he was messy, sometimes he would bite and it would send bolts of electricity down your spine.
“james…” you let out as he bit you again.
“tell me” he said, trailing his kisses down to your clavicle. “can i take this off too?” he asked, playing with your bra. you nodded but he didn’t move an inch.
“i need to hear you say it. can i take this off?” he was such a fucking tease, it made you go crazy. he loved to hear your voice, he knew you wanted him to take it off, he just liked to hear you say it.
“yes, please” you struggled to hold in a moan once he started sucking on your neck.
“thank you” he answered, looking back to the hickey he gave you. “hmm, that’s gonna leave a mark, sorry baby” baby? he had never called you that, you hummed as he took off his collared shirt and then proceeded to take off your bra . he groaned at the sight of you, which drove you mad. his growing bulge was exposed.
he was big.
you immediately regretted every single time you had made a small dick joke (sure, there were only 2 times but they did happen).
he was on his knees, towering over you.
“you’re so pretty”, he leaned down to kiss you again, this time more eager than ever. his right hand cupped your jaw as his left one roamed your body, making you ache for more and more. “i really wanna touch you” he whispered and went back to kissing you, his left hand now between your thighs, waiting for permission to move.
“please” you whisper, stopping the kiss briefly. he kept on kissing you as he stimulated you through the fabric of your underwear, but that didn't happen for long, specially because of how wet it was, he needed to touch you, he couldn't help himself. the dress was so hiked up it looked like a shirt, but instead of helping you take it off, he pulled it down a bit, so he had access to your chest. he immediately started kissing around your left tit, making you go absolutely insane. and that combined with the sudden touch to your clit? yeah, you were getting fucked up that night.
he was better than anyone had ever been to you. sucking in your nipple and fingering you slowly, he was making you go crazy, needing him more.
he stopped sucking on your nipple and went back to your neck, his hand not stopping at all. the right one went to cover your mouth as you moaned.
“be quiet, hm? want everyone to listen? don’t wanna stuff that pretty mouth of yours too” his non dominant hand went to your neck, choking you lightly as his other one fucked into you. you were so close to cumming, with his thumb stimulating your clit as his other fingers went in and out of you, he knew that you were close, specially with the way your pussy was tightening around him. “so fucking tight, aren’t you? can’t imagine how you’re gonna feel around my cock” he stopped and took his fingers out, making you whine, missing the feeling of him.
“jameees” you moan, finding the courage in you to pull him in, giving him a kiss.
“take it off”
“what?” you’re confused.
“the dress, i really wanna fuck you in it but i don’t wanna ruin it.” he lets out. “take it off” he sounded like he was ordering you, and you loved it so much, you wanted to give something back to him.
“i will, but can i suck you off first?” you ask, looking at him doe eyed, and how could he say no?
“you really want to?” he asks, furrowed brows, you nod, quickly getting on your knees as he unbuckles his belt, throwing it on the carpet. he got up and pulled his pants down, staying just in his boxers, he climbed back into bed with you, kissing you sweetly.
you were on your knees in front of him, pulling his cock out of his underwear, stroking it lightly then kissing the tip. you take him in your mouth, using your hands to stroke what couldn’t fit, which, frankly, was about a bigger portion of it. he was the biggest you ever had.
“fuck” he groaned at the movements you were making, using his left hand to get strands of hair out of your face, as his right one supported him on the bed. he was trying not to thrust into your mouth but you were making it so hard. “your mouth was made for me, baby” he whispered, looking into your eyes. his free hand went to your neck, choking you just a bit, as your head bobbed up and down, taking as much as possible.
“so good, your mouth feels so goddamn good honey” he groaned as he finished the sentence and you used your non dominant hand to cup his balls. he was moaning a bit and it was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen or heard, though you were sure you would see hotter things that same night. he started thrusting lightly, he couldn’t help himself, specially with how good your mouth made him feel.
“stop” he ordered you, and so you did, a pop sound being made as you stopped sucking and looked up at him.
“did i do something wrong?” you ask, brows furrowed. his hand hasn’t left your neck, and so he pulls you in by it. his tongue went straight in your mouth, he needed to taste him on your lips.
“i wanna fuck you” he said, looking into your eyes, waiting for any kind of response.
“yes. please do” you quickly say, kissing him quickly.
“the dress” he remembers and you quickly take it off, not stopping the staring for a second.
“want you down on all fours” he says, getting on his knees. you do as he commands, getting in an arch position as he’s on his knees behind you. he can see that you still haven’t taken off your underwear, he bites on your ass cheek and then pulls it down with his teeth.
“you don’t mind if i keep this, don’t you?” he asks, helping you take it off fully. “it’s already ruined”
“it’s yours” you look back at him, he’s smirking like the devil. he throws your underwear into his bedside drawer.
“gotta keep it safe” he whispers. you can feel his bulge through his boxers as he leans in to kiss your neck, you whine, needing him more.
“patience, i’m gonna give it to you, sweetheart” his right hand gave your ass a smack. “up” he said, signaling for you to arch your back even more. as you do so, he groans, pressing his covered member against your wet cunt.
“you’re so pretty like this, all for me?” he asked, using his hand to play with your clit.
“y-yes, all yours” you said, trying not to whine mid sentence.
“good girl. mine” he gave your shoulder a quick peck. “gonna put it in now, okay? tell me if you wanna stop” he took his dick from out of his boxers and pumped it a few times. you could’ve fainted once you felt his tip lined up to your entrance.
he went in slowly, he was way to big for you. every time you thought he was done, there would still be more of him left.
“jaaames” you would whine
“just a bit left; don’t worry, princess” once he was fully inside of you, you felt amazing, like you were in heaven. “you’re so fucking tight, ‘feels so good” he said, trying to to groan, his voice was raspy.
if took a few thrusts for you to get used to his size, but as soon as he picked up a pace, you were a mess. you couldn’t hold in your sounds, the way he was stimulating your clit was absolutely killing you.
“be fucking quiet” he demanded with a groan, “you want everyone to know who you belong to, huh?” he didn’t stop, he just went quicker as a matter of fact.
“fuck!” you squealed as he pinched your clit, his thrusts began to be more rough, you couldn’t even focus. you’re eyes kept rolling back, your mind was fully blank and the only thing that was coming out of your mouth in that moment was a mixture of james, fuck, shit and a few other curse words.
you were in ecstasy.
“you like this, don’t you?” he was grunting lowly in between every few thrusts. you were so close, you felt your high coming to you, the way he was fucking you was not helping with you trying to hold it.
“james ohmygod james, im gonna cum” you say, trying not to stumble over your words.
“ask nicely and i’ll let you” he said, stopping the stimulation on your clit and thrusting harder. he was close too, the way your tight pussy would clench around him was making him go insane.
“please let me cum, james. need it so bad” you blurted out in between whining and moaning. he grins and goes back to stimulating you.
“good girl, do it” he went faster and didn’t stop playing with your clit. your eyes rolled back and you let it go.
your walls clench tight around him, he didn’t stop as you made a mess all over his dick.
as you finished, his thrusts only got harder, you were feeling so overstimulated and you felt like he was close too.
“fuck, sweetheart. gonna cum inside you, that’s alright?” you moaned in answer.
his hips stuttered and you felt his cock twitch spilled inside of you, his juices mixing with yours.
he made sure he got rid of every single drop.
your legs were shaking as he pulled out and tucked himself back into his underwear, you collapsed on the bed and he laid down next to you.
“wanna go back to the party?” he jokes, looking into your eyes.
“shut up” you reply, looking at the ceiling of his room.
“gonna clean you up, okay?” james assured you as he threw you a shirt of his that was under the bed. you put it on but pulled him closer to you.
“okay, but just stay with me for a while if that’s alright.” you asked.
“always” he pressed a kiss onto your forehead and you knew that this was not going to be a one time thing.
2K notes · View notes
jnnul · 7 months
Text
ric flair drip
a/n: oh my god. it's finished. i've finally written all of her. i genuinely don't know how to explain the relief i feel right now. it feels strange writing this after writing and healing myself through writing this. i hope that anyone in college who's feeling the way y/n or jaehyun did knows that you can and will grow from it. heartbreak is inevitable and so is growth. quick note: feedback, comments, etc. GREATLY encourage writers! if you felt any sort of way (in a good or bad way!) about this fic, pls leave feedback!
word count: 20k
tags: college au!, frat boy!jaehyun x girlboss!y/n, honestly it just a dissertation about modern love and how people nowadays love each other, there's a lot of soul searching in this one, i poured my heart and soul into this please love her the way i do warnings: mentions of sex, underage drinking, and general college shenanigans! also explicit mentions of oral sex, uhhh foreplay and sex
Tumblr media
HONESTLY, NOTHING ABOUT JUNG JAEHYUN IS REMOTELY APPEALING TO YOU. you hate the perfect boy act he puts on, you hate his need to impress everyone and everything, and you really fucking hated his dick.
because if it wasn't for his dick, which you were sure is just as perfect as the rest of his stupid self, you wouldn't be awake at inhumane hours, listening to your friend recount their sexcapades.
"oh my god, and then he did this thing with his tongue and i swear, i'm literally never going to be able to have oral again. he's fucking ruined me. i'm genuinely going to just make every guy i fuck put a jaehyun mask on from now onwards just to recreate it," sia yoo, unfortunately one of your best friends, quips dreamily. she yelps when roseanne park, your roommate and singular other voice of reason, throws a pillow at her.
"you sound like a fucking psycho. as in needs to be checked to a mental facility psycho. as in if i hadn't heard worse when you got with johnny suh, i'd be calling the cops right now psycho," roseanne says and easily ducks when sia winds up to throw the pillow back at her. fatima khan, sia's roommate and mother friend extraordinaire, pouts sympathetically with sia as the two of them turn to you as if you would fall on their side.
"sia, baby, honey, love and light of my life - i'm really sorry but i'm with rosie on this one," you say and sia puts on the most theatrical frown you she possibly could before she cocks her head curiously.
"rosie's got a reason for judging jaehyun since she doesn't even like men all that much. what's your excuse, y/n? you like men, judging by the way you were getting railed to next week by that freshie park seonghwa. you've never gotten dicked down by jaehyun."
you're half-tempted so tell sia that it's not fucking weird that you got with seonghwa, considering the fact that you're only a sophomore yourself but you're even more tempted to remind her that even though you were no stranger to a good time, you never recount your stories.
in fact, the only reason why the other three (well, you suppose rosie would know regardless given that you literally live with her) know about your sex life is because you choose to tell them whenever you felt like it. and usually, it was more than three days after the encounter.
you loved your friends, you really did - and sia was notorious for getting into one night stand rehash sessions at ungodly hours, so this was nothing new - but for some reason, every time jaehyun's name came up in the conversation, your skin would prickle with irritation.
maybe it was the fact that every single person around you seemed to be infatuated with him. or the fact that he was just so effortlessly good at capturing the attention of everyone in the room, no matter where he was.
or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that you knew that if you looked too closely into the deep end, you'd fall right in with no life jacket. and jaehyun was an endless ocean.
+++
maybe you had given jaehyun too much credit, you lament. maybe jung jaehyun's as deep as a fucking kiddie pool. you know you're wrong because you were in the same english literature class and the man had been published because the professor liked his prose so much, she had submitted it to a literary journal.
and they had accepted it.
but as you stare at him across the lecture hall, burning holes into the poor guy's skull, you sure think he's stupid. because there was no way in fresh hell that jung jaehyun was in an introduction to east asia class. as a south korean.
people begin settling into their seats as you mull over the possibility that jaehyun had fucked so much, his brain had fallen out through his dick. from the stories of his more than above average size, it was definitely not out of the realm of possibility.
just as you're send a very judgmental text to fatima, who was supposed to be taking the class with you but had had to switch last minute when one of her major required classes opened up, jaehyun gets out of his seat to stand at the front of the room, next to the professor.
you realize belatedly that the people jaehyun had been so animatedly speaking to were none other than bambam and ten - two people who most definitely were in this class. and of course, they had chosen this class over all the others because oh my god, jung jaehyun is the uta for this class.
in hindsight, it makes sense, given that jaehyun is a east asian studies minor and a stellar fucking student. but it doesn't make the text you were about to send fatima any less humiliating as you realize your attempts to undermine his character were desperately failing. you try to backtrack on your phone, deleting the winding paragraph you were about to send her when your thumb slips, accidentally sending a half written message.
you: jaehyun is fucking
you're sure the statement will be true within the next couple hours (the jung bed at the nct frat never seemed to stay empty for too long - and that was just from orientation week last week) but it felt almost blasphemous that you would send a text so crude to your friend when you insisted that you couldn't stand his guts.
or what lay between them, really.
three gray dots appear on your screen as you half-heartedly listen to your professor drone on about how he went to china, became a changed man, and now taught about the wonders of east asia and its exoticism. his name was paul but the class could refer to him by his 'enlightened name' - lao ma. even jaehyun rolls his eyes behind the professor's back as all of the asian kids in the classroom begin to eye each other warily.
if this class wasn't so easy, you're sure the population would've shrunk to a quarter its size based on the weirdness of the professor on its own. or maybe not, if it meant that people got to stare at jaehyun's gorgeous face for an hour and a half every monday morning.
mommy tima 🤍: honey, i think whatever sia's got going is contagious. mommy tima 🤍: aren't you the one who hates him? mommy tima 🤍: he really lives in your mind rent free, huh.
you scoff under your breath as you type furiously, vaguely registering that you definitely need to check the syllabus for this class later because you have not been listening to a word the professor has said this whole time.
you: first sia's got cooties or a raging std that's what she's got going you: second he's my fucking uta you: as in i am going to be forced to see his face for an entire semester mommy tima 🤍: drop the class then, babe. you: can't this is too good for my gpa & the prof's a freak you: it's a gpa cushion and a circus in one go
you tuck your phone away when you see that jaehyun is coming up the aisle on your side with a packet while the professor is on the other aisle on the other side with the same packet to hand out. jaehyun probably wouldn't care that you had your phone out during lecture (syllabus week was just an excuse for college kids to get drunk during school days anyway) but it was the principle of the thing.
"here you go - oh, it's stuck together," jaehyun says as he stops at where you're sitting. his tongue slips out as he thumbs at the packet to give you one instead of three and suddenly, your treacherous brain takes you back to sia's rambling the night before.
and then he did this thing with his tongue...
you're shaken back to reality when you realize that you're staring at a blank wall, with a pink packet in front of you, and jaehyun has already reached the back of the classroom.
fuck. shit. bitch.
jaehyun had seen you stare at his stupidly handsome face and then some. he was your ta. oh my god, what if he docked points on some test because he thought you were the creepy stalker type.
damn you, sia yoo, you curse in your head.
+++
"damn you, sia yoo!" you yell over the blaring music that's so loud, you can feel the vibrations in your skull. there absolutely no reason you should be caught dead in a frat on the friday of syllabus week but sia had made it her mission to make sure you had a going out rate of at least 80% this school year, given that you were prone to trying to skip out on weekends out last year.
not that you didn't like going out - you actually really liked going out with your friends. you just took a little more inertia to get to the energy levels of actually going on.
sia just nods at you lazily as she bounces to the beat of another shitty remix of 'what you came for' by calvin harris and rihanna. you never understood why frats always found the worst remixes of classic party bangers but anything flew after you had enough alcohol in your system so the music would recede to the depths of your mind in a couple cups of whatever the fuck this drink was.
especially since you were a full sunshine drunk; whenever you were drunk, you became the life of the party and would always be found in the center of the room, regardless of the music. sia was a flirty drunk and you really couldn't remember the last time sia actually spent the entire weekend in her own bed. props to her stamina, honestly.
rosie was a mix of you and sia in that she would become so much more bubbly but the second she found someone she wanted to spend the night with, she went after them with no hesitation.
fatima usually played the role of sober mommy when you all went out. although she was never one to miss out on a good time, when she did get drunk, she much preferred it to be within the confines of the four walls that she shared with her roommate and the people she trusted the most - you, rosie, and sia.
which is why when rosie abandons you for her on again, off again fuck buddy (miyeon cho) and her fuck buddy (yugyeom kim), you're not surprised at all.
"that's going to be an interesting story in the morning," you say, nodding to where rosie, miyeon, and yugyeom are all heading upstairs together. fatima nudges you to look at sia, where she's pressed up against none other than johnny suh (or the love of her life, prior to jaehyun, apparently).
"that's going to be an interesting story in the afternoon," fatima counters. you turn to her with furrowed eyebrows, as if to question the timing. "i don't think i've ever heard of a girl leaving johnny's bed before 3 o'clock the next afternoon."
your jaw hangs in shock as you watch your friend wrap her arms around the tall man's neck, whispering something into his ear when he bends down to kiss her collarbone.
"are all of the nct boys secretly porn stars or something? how can they all be that good in bed?" you gape, waving at sia when she turns around to wink at you and fatima as her and johnny are bustling out of the door, undoubtedly to the nct frat house.
"they test us as part of rushing," says a low, velvety voice behind you. a hot rush of shame runs up your spine for two reasons: a) you were able to recognize jung jaehyun just from his voice and b) he heard you gossiping about his frat brothers' sexual prowess.
you exchange a look with fatima before whipping around to meet jaehyun eye to eye. he's wearing a plain black t-shirt and lightwash distressed jeans but he might as well be wearing designer trash bags for all you care. what you do care about, unfortunately, is the almost slutty way his v-neck dips to show off the beginnings of the planes of his chest.
you feel no better than a victorian man and it takes fatima a poorly concealed cough to break you out of your thoughts. fuck, you'd done it again. you really needed to stop getting caught up in jung jaehyun's pretty face. and body. and that stupid smile.
"haha. very funny. sounds like something straight out of a cheesy porno sponsored by viagra or something," you say, rolling your eyes. smooth. very smooth. normally, you like to think that you're proficient in the witty banter department but something about this boy made you almost feel dumb about your comebacks.
jaehyun cocks an eyebrow, and you're distinctly made aware that even with platform sneakers on, jaehyun is a good head taller than you when you have to look upwards to notice the motion. "you seem to be well versed, y/n. you make it a habit to stay up to date?"
you flush at the thinly veiled euphemism at your x-rated movie watching habits before clearing your throat. "i'm more of a fan of practical study, really. i am a scientist, after all."
you're aware that fatima has slipped away from you to talk to another friend, park jeonghwa, and also the fact that you are slowly beginning your descent into drunkenness but you can't seem to bring yourself to find the caution in it all. it's just jaehyun, after all.
jaehyun hums, bringing the solo cup in his hand to his lips to take a swig. "you're a biomedical engineering major, aren't you?"
you balk at that. "wait, wait. you know my name and my major?"
jaehyun nods slowly, seemingly stumbling for a moment before he gains his self-confidence once more. "you don't know mine?"
"you're literally my ta. i know you're an east asian studies minor and your name because you told the class," you say, recovering quickly. it was a really good thing you were a quick thinker because you were lying through your teeth.
you knew jaehyun's name, minor, and even major (computer science) because of his notorious reputation, not because he was your ta. but the last thing you wanted was to give him the satisfaction of asserting his popularity on campus.
"anyway. what was that you were saying about 'practical study'?" jaehyun's eyes twinkle in the dim lighting of the cramped basement you were in and you had a feeling that if you were any more inebriated, you'd be diving headfirst into jung jaehyun's bed as long as he looked at you like that.
but fortunately (unfortunately?) you're sober enough to make mostly intelligent decisions - which just means that you're not going to jump headfirst. maybe feet first but not headfirst.
"wouldn't you like to know," you sing-song, leaning into jaehyun's body enough to smell the mix of woody pine, fresh water, and vodka that seems to emanate from him. jaehyun watches you as you lean over him to grab another solo cup from the assortment that some lower ranked frat brother had been forced into bartending.
you down the entire drink in two swigs, patting away the stray stream of alcohol that had dripped down onto your chest. you don't notice the way jaehyun's eyes follow your hand down its descent to your chest. but you finally feel like your element, and in a moment of sheer idiocy and liquid courage, you enter the growing throng of bodies behind you, beckoning jaehyun to follow you.
you're not 100% sure what you want from him, honestly. you want to have a good time, and you're sure you'll have one with or without him. but something about the way jaehyun follows you like a puppy into the mess of people makes you feel like a zap of electricity has hit your body.
and if you're being completely honest with yourself (as you usually only are with ethanol in your system), you really didn't hate jaehyun. you had no qualms with him as a person, even if you hated the consequences that came with a night with him.
it's when you're in the middle of the crowd, with jaehyun looking at you with those hooded eyes and hands tucked into his pockets when you realize what you want from jaehyun jung.
you want him to desire you the way that his mere presence makes people desire him.
so you do what you do best and just let go. it's ric flair drip by metro boomin that's playing - a song that's definitely not the one to get down to. but the bass fills you up in a way that never hits the same outside of a sweaty frat basement so you can't even bring yourself to care.
"i'm tryna fuck you and your bestie," you sing along with the near hundred people surrounding you. jaehyun is still looking at you with an eyebrow sitting higher and an appraising expression; something that somehow manages to get under your skin.
in a moment of passion, you manage to hook your fingers into one of jaehyun's belt loops, pulling him closer to you. you're aware that you've painted yourself to be jaehyun's next conquest if the way that the girls next to you look upset means anything, but you couldn't care less.
especially when you're this close to the bane of your existence. the song switches to something a little more what you need (under the influence by chris brown) and you look up at jaehyun through your lashes and in that moment, jaehyun knows what you're offering him through your gaze.
a challenge.
+++
jaehyun never really meant to take on the role of nct's resident whore. in fact, jaehyun had been planning on doing the exact opposite when he came to college.
although it was unbelievable now, jaehyun jung had originally just been a very strange, nerdy, and sweet boy. he never got up to much trouble, kept to himself most of the time, and was known for...nothing, really. he was sweet and bubbly but he wasn't exactly running with the popular crowd.
in fact, jaehyun was kinda forgotten all throughout his schooling. it was easy to forget about jaehyun, as though he were some visage in a dream that everyone shared.
it hurt.
so when jaehyun finally hit his growth spurt in senior year, started going to the gym, and his voice no longer cracked every other sentence, he felt like a whole new person. like he was finally the main character in his own life.
it felt so fucking good to look at the same girls who had smiled at him pitifully and have them melting under a single wink. the summer between high school and college had been wild, with more stories than jaehyun could really even care to keep track of.
but when college began, jaehyun was fully intending to return to flying under the radar with his new upgrade in personality, appearance, and wardrobe. with a face like his, however, doing so was about as easy as trying to pass professor yoon's intro to bio class - nearly impossible.
slowly but surely, jaehyun morphed back into the personality he had adopted that summer and surprisingly, it wasn't as foreign as he thought. he was still a good student and wasn't a stranger to having to skip out on hanging out with his friends to study.
but having a new girl in his bed every other day? that was definitely new. a new revelation, but a welcome one nonetheless.
and in that, jaehyun was used to people using all sorts of tactics to get with him. playing hard to get, with coy smiles and flirtatious winks. or the bold ones, who told him straight up that they wanted to spend the night with him. even the downright horrifying ones who tried to pretend like they were blackout drunk in hopes that that would 'attract' him. spoiler alert? it didn't.
jaehyun originally thought you were of the 'hard to get' caliber. the type of girl to say that she wasn't like other girls and that's why he should get with her instead. so initially, when he approached you at the party after seeing you in his class, he was mentally preparing himself for the whole pick me speech.
but it was something about the way you looked at him.
it was like two halves of your mind were battling against each other. on one hand, you looked like you wanted to fax jaehyun straight into the fiery pits of hell with high speed shipping. on the other, it also seemed like you wanted nothing more than to ride him until the sun came up. mixed with a little bit of curiosity, confusion, and downright anger with yourself for all the emotions, you looked like the perfect cocktail of firebrand that jaehyun couldn't help but become intrigued by.
so when you were laughingly talking to your best friend (jaehyun's frat brother kun was half in love with fatima, which meant that jaehyun was more than well acquainted with her) about him and frat brothers, he took it to be the opportunity he needed.
and when you're looking at him like this, daring him to make a move, almost as if to make your mind fall one way or another about drawing a conclusion on him, what is jaehyun to do but to make good on the challenge you've offered?
he watches you for a moment more, trying to commit the memory of what you look like when you're this carefree and happy, before taking the micro-step it takes to get so close he can smell the citrus and apple cider that you seem to always smell like.
"i promise you i can fuck you better than johnny," jaehyun says, a corner of his lips tilted up as your eyes flutter the closer he draws.
"johnny's your 'bestie'?" you say, and jaehyun can tell that the last threads of your resolve are starting to snap by the way that your hand is now pressed against his chest.
"that's what you're curious about right now? the dynamics of the nct frat brothers?" jaehyun asks but he knows that this back and forth is exactly you need right now; the time to decide if you can take the plunge. or if jaehyun's worth your time tonight.
"as i mentioned, i'm a scientist," you say, and even as your voice stays stable, your fingers seem to leave burning trails against jaehyun's skin as they dip and feed into crevices of jaehyun's body that he didn't even know existed.
"hmm," jaehyun manages to eke out when your fingers lace into his hair. he's not sure how you manage to find every single sensitive spot he has but he's fairly impressed by the way you catch his breath hitching as you work your other hand up as well.
"hmm? cat got your tongue, jaehyun?" you say, making sure that jaehyun looks straight into your eyes as you lean impossibly closer. "you know that sia's with johnny right now, right? girls talk - especially with your best friends. which means that if you can't make good on your promise, i will find out."
jaehyun feels like he's sweating like a pig but thankfully, you don't notice, too busy making him sweat. he clears his throat once, and then twice to make sure that his voice doesn't give out.
"that right?" he says, and you roll your eyes, letting go of him and stepping back. you seem to appraise him for a moment (and jaehyun is unnaturally nervous about what you will decide) before grabbing his hand and leading him to the door. you only pause to flag down fatima, who takes one look at your intertwined hands, and waves the two of you away.
jaehyun blushes like a schoolgirl at the way fatima flashes him a catty smile.
"i swear to god, jaehyun, if you're all talk and no game - or if you're gonna sit still and look pretty the whole time - i will literally blue ball you. i don't do pillow princes," you throw over your shoulder as the two of you make your way to the nct frat. jaehyun knows for a fact that the nct frat will not be a quiet place tonight by the number of dresses and pants he sees in the foyer and leading the way up the stairs.
he says nothing, even as you're quite nearly storming up the stairs with a certain level of urgency, almost as though if you were to slow down and think about just exactly what you're doing, you'd turn around and leave right now.
jaehyun definitely can't let that happen.
so the second that he gets you into his bedroom (he had to rock, paper, scissors with doyoung to get the room tonight), he shuts the door and locks it behind him. he turns around to see you looking between the two beds, as if trying to guess which one was jaehyun's.
he mentally pats himself on the back when he sees the fresh sheets on the bed. reaching where you stand in less than a stride, jaehyun turns you so that you're facing his bed, and you squirm to turn to meet his eyes even as his hands are on your waist.
"what is with your hands?" you ask harshly and jaehyun blinks as he looks down.
"what do you mean? they're on your waist," jaehyun says softly, and once again, he's hit with a wave of citrus and apple cider. you simper at him, grabbing his wrist and moving it incriminatingly downwards.
"what am i? a virgin? put them somewhere useful." you whisper the last part and it's as though jaehyun has just woken up.
"you know," jaehyun begins, sliding his other hand downwards to sit comfortably on the curve of your ass. "if i didn't know any better, i'd think you were trying to rile me up. i wonder..."
he doesn't finish his thought, instead pulling you close so that your hips are pressed against his. he can hear the gasp that you're desperately trying to conceal, coughing uselessly to the side. a devilish smirk grows on jaehyun's lips and for the first time in a long time, you're sure you're going to be up all night.
+++
you were, in fact, trying to rile him up. you had heard all the rumors about jaehyun and johnny, about how one night with them was like one night in heaven. hell, you'd had first hand accounts from sia yoo about exactly what it's like to be in bed with either of them - multiple times.
so when jaehyun had fronted with such a cautious attitude when he realized what you wanted, you were almost offended. if you wanted to take control and fuck a man's brains out, you could do that with anyone. why would you fight against your own mind this much to get with him?
but seonghwa park. changkyun im. even kun qian, before you discovered he was head over heels for fatima. jung jaehyun.
these were all people who put you in your place. the way you wanted to be. it just seemed as though jaehyun might've needed a little more persuasion to get there.
so yes, you were riling him up. was that such a crime?
by the way jaehyun's looking at you right now, his breath hot and heavy on your neck and his eyes dark with a feeling that you can't describe but resonates with you on a deeper, more primal level.
"you know, after you got with kun, he wouldn't shut up about it for a week," jaehyun says, pressing kisses down your neck, pausing when he reaches your breastbone. he eyes your corset top with a discerning eye before reaching behind you to pull the lace strings that were precariously holding your top for a week.
"yeah?" you ask, threading your fingers through jaehyun's thick hair as he makes quick work of your top, leaving it pooled on the floor as his lips find your chest as though he couldn't be physically parted from it.
"yeah. even after he met fatima, he said that you were the best he's ever had - that's a big reputation to live up to when you're in nct," jaehyun says, his voice breathy and deep as he walks you backwards so that the back of your knees hit the frame of his bed.
"hmm. what can i say? i know what i want and what i want is usually lots of fun," you say, letting jaehyun unzip your jeans, pulling them down and kicking them off when jaehyun moves too slowly.
"i know. god, after knowing that you and kun were going at it, i swear everyone was jerking off in their room for an hour. even winwin wanted to go for you today. you're an unpredictable woman; no one knows where and when you're going to show up to one of the parties so everyone has to take their chances when they get them," jaehyun says, tugging his shirt off and throwing it somewhere behind him carelessly.
you nearly melt when you see jaehyun's uncovered top, eyeing each and every hard ridge of his body, reaching out to touch him. his chest is almost soothingly warm as your fingers memorize each and every aspect of the planes of his chest, almost worried that they might disappear if you let go.
jaehyun looks at you amusingly as he lets your fingers dance across his body, focusing on tugging your panties off to discard them where he's sure he's going to have to search for them later on.
you pout when you see the difference in clothing but jaehyun just gently pushes you backwards so that your back is against his bed, leaving your pussy exposed in away that makes you feel absolutely mortified. you move to gain some level of privacy back but jaehyun is too fast, gripping onto your thighs incriminatingly as he raises an eyebrow.
"don't think that i'm soft just because i'm being nice to you now, pretty girl. i know you don't like to listen but don't hide from me. i will not let you have any fun if you try to hide from me," jaehyun says, his voice dropping a full octave. you suppress the shiver that runs through your body (and that simultaneously delights jaehyun) as you nod softly.
he seems satisfied by the way your body melts and rewards you for your submission by licking a wet strip up your pussy, one hand snaking up to touch your nipple while the other one keeps your thighs open.
jaehyun is slow at first, exploring each and every hidden crevice of your body but as he feels you get wetter and wetter, he can't seem to stay soft for too long. he continues to press his lips against yours but the moment you try to grind your hips against his lips, he pulls away, his tongue darting out to taste your essence on him.
you almost whine at the loss of his hot mouth on your pussy, and you're embarrassed to realize that in front of jaehyun jung, you are no better than your best friend in falling in love with the way he moves.
"you're not going to cum from my tongue, baby," jaehyun says, practically ripping the belt out from where it was caging his jeans. "especially when i know that your pussy is magic."
"you say that, jaehyun, but you're being so fucking soft. if i didn't know any better, i'd think you're in love with me," you snort, trying to catch your breath. jaehyun freezes from where his boxers are hanging so low on his hips, you can see the muscles in his pelvis tense angrily as he looks at you dangerously.
"my fucking bad for making sure you're wet enough to take me," jaehyun whispers, pulling close to you. his eyes turn even darker than usual and a small spark of excitement ignites in your chest when you realize that you've finally reached it - jaehyun's breaking point.
"sounds like you're scared, jaehyun. you know what? you know why kun was so good? because he wasn't scared. he wasn't scared to fuck me like he was trying to break the bed," you retort, and saying kun's name is when jaehyun finally snaps. he tears his boxers off as he pushes you so that you're further up on his bed.
"y/n, i'm not fucking joking around. if you want me to stop, say it now. just say the word, and i'll pretend like this never happened. because i swear to every god in existence, if you let me, i'll ruin every other man for you," jaehyun says and his knuckles turn white from how hard his clenching his fingers to keep himself from pouncing. the thought is almost cute if you weren't desperate to be fucked into next week.
"if i wanted you to stop, i wouldn't have said kun's name, would i?"
that's all it takes. no sooner do the words leave your mouth, jaehyun's on top of you, every inch of his body fighting to claim yours. he's not sure what it is about being with a bratty girl but every time a girl tries to challenge him, jaehyun can feel his excitement grow as his mind runs wild with ways to prove you wrong.
and with a girl as beautiful and sexy as you? he was going to have the time of his life.
time of his life he does.
+++
when jaehyun wakes up, he's almost happy. almost because he has bruises on his hips from how hard he had pounded into you, a litter of hickeys across his chest, and freshly washed hair from when you had enticed him into taking a shower with you.
inevitably, it led to another hour in the shower that jaehyun had spent having his soul sucked out from his dick, eating you out under the shower, and seeing you cum twice just from his tongue.
if only he had woken up with you still in his bed, jaehyun would've actually been happy.
realistically, jaehyun had no clue what he was expecting. after taking a shower, it had taken you a total of five minutes to fall asleep in his arms, wearing nothing but jaehyun's oversized t-shirt and your panties.
there was no pillowtalk, no heart to hearts, nothing. no discussions of having whatever happened last night happening again. no trying to get to know each other better.
not that you had ever been obligated to do so. if anything, jaehyun was far more obligated to do so, after practically declaring that he had wanted to get with you since last semester - which he had been completely serious about.
but with his reputation, regardless of what he had said last night, jaehyun's almost 100% sure that you would've disappeared by the morning.
he's so caught up in his thoughts that he almost misses the bright pink post-it note on his neatly folded shirt on his desk in the corner of the room.
9.5/10. if you see sia, tell her she was right about your tongue. see you in intro to east asia on monday.
jaehyun's half disappointed and half happy. disappointed because you'd never left your number or anything and happy because at least he knew that you weren't going to completely avoid him whenever you ran into each other next.
he shakes his head as he folds the post-it note and throws it in the trash can next to his desk.
jaehyun jung may not have started college with the intention of becoming the resident fuckboy but he still had a reputation to maintain. he had fucked countless women over his time at sm university and he had no intention of falling for any of them.
he was not about to get soft-hearted or soft-dicked by a girl he was with once.
even if she was really good in bed. like really really good. like good enough to make him think about the other boys she's been with and if they'd made you feel as good as he did.
fuck. her. which jaehyun had already done. which meant that he needed to move onto the next step of the day before his head exploded with all of the implications flying around in his mind about their relation to each other (nonexistent) and if you were thinking about him like he was thinking of you (you weren't).
he pads out of his room, passing doyoung on the way out, who claps him on the back and says, "you finally got with y/n?" jaehyun doesn't know how doyoung knows but it strikes him that neither of you are very subtle people and you had caused quite the scene leaving with him last night.
similar reactions are offered to him by everyone he passes. he's not really sure how many of the boys you've been with but jaehyun can feel his street cred go up by at least a decameter with the way some of these pledges are looking at him.
in fact, everyone is looking at him with a new look of respect in their eyes until he reaches the kitchen, where yoo sia and johnny are sitting, practically eye-fucking.
jaehyun was very used to seeing johnny's friends in the kitchen the next day, neither of them ready to really say goodbye each other yet but for some reason, knowing that sia was your best friend and seeing her with johnny sets jaehyun's stomach into a series of knots that he was sure he was going to have to unravel when he had his head on straight.
"she already left?" sia says, finally breaking her stare from johnny's. jaehyun shrugs, digging around the fridge to see if they had any coffee. they didn't (none that wasn't expired anyway) so he has to settle for a caprisun.
"she had somewhere to be," jaehyun says. he wants to ask sia if it's normal for you to leave that early. it can't be if sia seems surprised that you'd left before the clock struck ten. what did that mean? what does that say about jaehyun? oh god. what if you hated it. what if you hated it so much that you didn't want to spend a second longer with jaehyun.
he cringes as he locks eyes with another shiny eyed pledge (jaehyun thinks his name is jungwoo) and tries to shake his head to clear any and all thoughts of you. he was pussydrunk. that was the only explanation. he just needed to dick down someone else and then he would get over whatever little infatuation thing he had going on.
"really? hmm..." sia says finally. jaehyun turns to see her looking right at him and suddenly, he's transported back to the previous weekend, when sia had been wrapped up in his sheets.
+++
"why did you start fucking around like this?" sia had asked, her chest still heaving from their previous illicit activities as she wraps herself tighter in jaehyun's sheets. jaehyun pauses for a moment as he catches his breath, pulling on his boxers as he thinks. he throws the shirt that sia's grabbing at, still not sure how to piece together his thoughts.
or why he wants to tell sia the truth. maybe it's because no one's ever asked about it before, but jaehyun feels strangely vulnerable as sia watches as he clambers back into his bed, her expression pensive and uncharacteristically wise.
"i don't know," jaehyun says honestly, laying over the covers as he feels his face grow hotter under sia's unrelenting stare. "i think it's because i wanted to know what it felt like. to know what it felt like to be wanted for a night instead of just being in the sidelines as the guy with the potential. just the guy that people brought along as the friend of the hot guys that kept him around."
sia doesn't say anything, instead turning so that she was lying on her back. jaehyun turns to look at her, to see if he could decipher some level of understanding from her silence. really, he knows that he should feel embarrassed about confessing his insecurities to a girl that he's hooked up with two or three times but he can't bring himself to for some reason.
maybe it's because he knows that she wouldn't say anything about it to anyone. or because he knows that she's head over heels for johnny, whether she'd admit it or not. or maybe it's just because for the first time, someone had asked something about jaehyun just to get to know him as a person, rather than trying to get him in their bed.
not that he really minded that - it just made him feel like it was all a lot more transactional than he was used to. he had been a romantic once upon a time. when you grew up with the nickname of 'valentine boy', it would have been stranger if he didn't have some sense of romance.
but jaehyun's penchant for romance disappeared almost just as soon as he realized that no one else was yearning for a pure type of love like he was.
and yet, it didn't bother him as much as he thought it would. turns out that jaehyun's a very adaptable man. if he wouldn't find love in this decade, then perhaps it would be lust that he would have to settle for.
"then again," he begins, gaze darting over to where sia had slipped on his t-shirt as she tiredly begins to settle down in his bed once more. "isn't that what everyone is doing nowadays? looking for a warm body for the night, instead of a genuine connection?"
sia snorts at that, turning so that she was facing jaehyun now. "don't tell me that you're one of the boomer types. the ones who always go around peacocking about how they were born in the wrong generation and that they're one of the 'good guys'. i might actually leave right now if you are."
"no, no i'm not. well. maybe a little bit. but i don't know why that's so bad to be honest," jaehyun acquiesces finally. sia rolls her eyes, but even she goes quiet for a moment. once again, jaehyun's reminded that this is sia yoo - a girl who routinely wakes up in someone else's sheets every saturday (although it was johnny's more often than not) and as sexist as it was, someone who carried a reputation for it. even jaehyun was surprised to find that she was such a deep conversationalist.
of course, he mentally berates himself soon after but he can't help the thought. for him, sia was just the girl he would get with a couple times. a good time. the fact that that's the only role she fulfilled in his mind made him feel disgusting inside out as he waits for her response, vowing that he would work to change his mindset. or maybe just change personalities altogether. ick.
"you know one of my best friends? y/n? the one who got with kun before he decided to go clean for fatima?" sia says with a careful tone. jaehyun nods, not trusting that he wouldn't say something dumb after his sudden realization of his flawed thinking.
"this is something she always says but it's honestly pretty simple: love is however you want to define it. humans spend so much trying to find labels and definitions for things that just might not have or need them. for such an advanced species, we spend so much time concerned about how to put a feeling into a box or how to classify a thought instead of rejoicing in the fact that we had such a beautiful feeling in the first place."
"for people in this generation, the old school love is hard to find because they've got so many other types of love that weren't allowed back when old school love was big. it's a different type of freedom to love someone on the weekends but never to fall in love with them. maybe we're just romanticizing hookup culture but who's to say that we can't? maybe we're all more romantic than we want to admit. maybe when we fall into the sheets with someone we barely know, we're looking for a fragment of love to satiate our heart in ways we didn't know it needed."
jaehyun doesn't know what to say to that so he just pulls her closer to him and she lets him, throwing her leg over his as they fall asleep, closer to each other than they had ever been.
+++
you're not sure what had compelled you to leave so quickly that morning. you usually like to get the boys who sleep with to at least cook you breakfast before you left (for compensation of being terrible in bed, if the situation so called for it) but for some reason, every instinct in your body had pulled you to leave.
you had waken up at nearly 5 in the morning, a mere two and a half hours after the two of you had fallen asleep, gathered your clothes, and were about to leave when you turn to look at jaehyun, still snoring away peacefully, his arm crossing his body to rest on the empty space next to him that you had occupied previously.
you had a feeling that you're going to lament leaving this early after psychoanalyzing why you were leaving so early later in the day but for now, if your gut was telling you to leave, you were going to heed the precautions.
but even as you're about to leave, you find yourself turning to jaehyun's desk, sparse but somehow still a little messy as you rummage for a post-it note and a pen to write with. you grin to yourself when you find yourself successful (and endearing somehow that jaehyun has bright pink post-it notes).
you pass a brother on the way out (undoubtedly a freshman who had received the short stick of the duties tonight) but you wave him off when he offers to walk you home. dangerous? most definitely. but you really needed the time and space to yourself and the short, almost ten minute walk back to your apartment would offer some enlightenment.
spoiler alert: it didn't. no matter how hard you wracked your brain to come up with some version of a logical explanation, you realized that there was just simply no way to do so.
and something about that frustrated you. you knew it wasn't a big deal. jaehyun was just a hook-up. a one night stand. and yet...something wasn't fitting right in your mind. so you start to think in the only way you know how, collecting all of the pieces of information you did have.
a) you just had sex - mind-blowing sex with jaehyun. he was everything you expected and more when it came to a sexual partner. b) you didn't develop feelings for him. sex comes fifth on the list of things you subconsciously (or now consciously, since you've spoken it into existence) have when looking for a potential boyfriend. first comes personality, then intelligence, then ambition, then looks, and then sex. you didn't even have a conversation long enough to figure out if jaehyun had more than three brain cells to piece together. c) jaehyun jung had confessed that he had wanted to get with you since last semester. did he mean with you-r body or with you?
you shake your head as if to physically shake the irrational thoughts in your mind out and press your id against the scanner at the entrance of your apartment building, rubbing your fingers against your temples as you get into the elevator to reach your apartment.
unlocking the door to your (empty) apartment, you decide to shelf the thoughts for some time when your head wasn't pounding and collapse on your bed, thanking the lords you'd had the sense to take a shower at jaehyun's.
and the last thing you remember is the smell of jaehyun's shampoo in your hair as you drift into blissful, dreamless sleep.
+++
you're not surprised to feel a weight on your bed when you wake up the next morning. you blearily open your eyes to make out sia's general figure, rosie and fatima undoubtedly chatting quietly in the kitchen.
you vaguely piece together something about fatima having kun over but him sleeping on the couch and you try to push down the guilt that creeps up into your brain as you realize that you had left fatima alone at the party. a party where all of you knew a lot of people (and the outcome was just as everyone had thought it would be) but the principle of the matter stung nonetheless.
you push aside the thought - along with the idea that you should probably apologize to fatima when the cottony feeling in your mouth started to subside - in favor of looking at sia, who is strangely quiet as she watches you gather yourself. for her boisterous personality, sia yoo could see through anyone to the extent of theorized telepathy so you don't even bother trying to hide anything from her.
although, it really is hard to take her seriously when she's got hickey's littered across her neck. well. you suppose you don't look much better at the moment.
"you left before 10 o'clock," sia says simply. you don't pretend to not understand what she means as you nod, pushing yourself up on your bed as fatima and rosie also enter, rosie handing you a glass of water.
"i know," you say softly. "but i want to hear about everyone else's nights right now. i just don't know that i'm in the right headspace to think about why i left so early - i'm not even sure i know why i left so early."
sia says nothing for a moment, watching your face, almost as if she were trying to read your very essence. but she relents, reaching out to hold your hand briefly before completely switching up, speaking animatedly about her very adventurous night, leaving you to simmer in your thoughts.
had sia always been this smart? probably. who's to say that she wasn't, after all?
turns out that sia and johnny were actually going to go on a date on wednesday, after realizing that their chemistry extended further out of the bedroom than either of them had expected. sia was through the roof, obviously, given that she had been thirsting over johnny (although more in a sexual sense than anything else) for so long.
rosie, miyeon, and yugyeom also worked a lot better than any of them had thought so you were sure that you were going to lose your roommate to the other '97 liners more often for the foreseeable future.
fatima was the only one who had a pg night, with kun coming over to her apartment and just chilling together the whole night, eventually having him sleep over since he was too tired to walk back to the apartment that he lived out (it was on the other side of campus, given that he moved out of the nct house pretty late into the semester last year).
"speaking of kun, when are you guys gonna make it official? i mean after this year, you guys are going to only have one year together before you guys graduate," you say, bunching your comforter before letting go. it felt weird saying that. especially in regards to your friends. theoretically, you had all the time in the world together.
but all the time in the world wasn't enough when it came to these girls.
fatima sighs before getting up, wringing her hands together as she thinks. "i don't know. i mean kun's graduating a year early so i really only have this year left. i - i know how much he likes me. i know that he wants to do this right way. go the whole nine yards."
"but...?" rosie says, elongating the syllables as you and sia look at her patiently. fatima shakes her head, getting up to walk around the room, six paces enough to take her from one side of your room to the other.
"i just don't know. kun's great and honestly, i really think that's the one. or at least one of the ones for me. but i just don't know if my parents would be okay with it. i mean my parents are great! they give me so much freedom and honestly, i'm really thankful that my parents allowed me to find religious and spiritual freedom on my own, without ever trying to shove it down my throat."
"but at the same time...how can i betray their trust in me by dating someone who is so far from my religion? like. kun is a great guy but he's not muslim. and sure, i don't follow a lot of the stricter things in islam but i - i have god in my heart. and i don't know that god would want me to start a family that doesn't follow islam. especially since i can see that in my future with kun and kun - i don't know that i could ask kun to convert to another religion for me."
the room is silent for a little bit after fatima finishes, with her collapsing in your bed next to you. rosie and sia exchange a look with each other, and then you, as they both decide to leave the room, leaving you to console fatima.
you were always the most philosophical one out of the bunch anyway.
"look, fatima, i can't pretend to know what it's like to have that kind of mental burden and i really can't understand what it's like to think about the future and be concerned about the impact on the world you might create. i read about something the other day though - did you know that kun means 'manifesting' or 'believing' in arabic?" fatima looks at you with disbelief written all over her face, shaking her head.
"how did you know that?" she asks and you just shrug, nodding at the 'islam for dummies' book you had bought in hopes of understanding a little bit more about one of your closest friend's religion.
"that's not the point. but fatima, you are the single kindest, most beautiful person i know. and i have faith that you will choose what's right for you, not what's right for the people around you because you know better than everyone that the only person who can judge you is god. and no one - no one - on this earth has the right to take that peace away from you."
fatima is silent before wrapping you in her arms, the soft material of her hoodie comforting you and lulling you back into a sleep that's dreamless and calm.
+++
jaehyun doesn't know what to expect when he walks into intro to east asia on monday. should he say hi? wave? start a conversation? should he acknowledge that he spent the better part of his weekend wondering if he would lose his fuckboy status if someone realized just how down bad he was for you?
probably anything but the last one was a good idea.
jaehyun was not in a good state of mind. he was a hot 19 year old man with a near perfect gpa (a whopping 3.98 only because he got a singular a-), a not so terrible set of dimples, and a killer body. and yet he was walking around like how he had been prior to his enlightening summer.
it's almost freeing but also humiliating to think that one night in bed was enough to make him start an entire philosophy but that was where jaehyun was at so who was he to question anything, really?
in fact, jaehyun is so caught up in what he would name his new branch of philosophy (loserism, with a lot of inspiration from zeno) that he doesn't even realize that you've already walked past him and taken your seat.
third row, first seat. you're putting your bag down next to your chair, pulling out your laptop, tossing your hair over your shoulder when it falls in your face. jaehyun tears his eyes away, knowing that this was not a good look for him.
if jaehyun really wanted to pursue you, which he was sure was where all of his jumbled emotions were eventually going to lead him anyway, he knew for a fact that you weren't going to be interested in having to take the lead. especially if jaehyun wasn't even sure that you were interested in the possibility.
but that's a struggle for another day. what was it that stephanie laurens said? that all women want sometimes is a little old-fashioned loving?
that was, in fact, the opposite of what sia had said you were really into but jaehyun had a sneaking suspicion that you wouldn't mind handing the reigns over in the decision making process portion of a relationship, or the courtship, if your time together this weekend alluded to anything.
jaehyun almost misses the beginning of the lecture, where professor ma (no one actually calls him that besides himself) was going into some of his favorite places to stay during his time in china. and while missing any portion of professor ma's lecture was of no crime, he also almost misses the way that you're looking straight at him, faking a yawn when jaehyun finally locks eyes with you.
professor ma was known for giving stellar recommendation letters (which was why johnny had coerced jaehyun into ta'ing for his class in the first place) but he was such a pain in the ass.
jaehyun has to keep from laughing out loud when he sees your exaggerated gestures to show how boring you were finding the professor's lecture to be, pulling himself together in time for him to finally be able to take a seat in the back of the classroom, professor ma having asked him to take attendance for the some two hundred students in the classroom. by hand.
he almost drops the piece of paper that you slide into his hand, subtly slipping it into the pocket of his basketball shorts as makes his way up the flight of stairs to the tenth row, dropping his backpack on the floor next to him, in a rush to open the delicate piece of paper in his hands.
there's only three words on the piece of paper and a series of dashes and yet jaehyun knows that this is all he needs. this is all the signal he needs to know that he wasn't imagining the chemistry or the tension between the two of you. and fuck what anyone said about his 'reputation'; it was jaehyun's turn - the old jaehyun's turn - to get the chance to experience the relationship he had always been dreaming of.
he rereads the little piece of paper before smiling and tucking it into his pocket again.
earn the rest. 9__-___-____.
+++
johnny suh is getting whiplash from his best friend's actions.
one day, he's asking sia yoo if her best friend usually leaves her one night stands by the time they wake up. then he's throwing said one night stand's notes into the trash can before leaving for some frat meeting or another.
the next day, he's carrying another note from the same one night stand he can't seem to get out of his head.
jaehyun doesn't tell johnny anything. he really doesn't need to at this point. johnny suh is a senior in college and he's pretty much seen it all. he's also the vice president of a frat - which means that even if he didn't have all the experience that he did just because of his seniority, he definitely seen it because of the sheer number of stupid decisions frat brothers will find themselves making when they think they're going to either a) get drunk b) get high c) get their dick wet.
johnny knows it's all in good fun (fun that he's definitely not opposed to) but jaehyun's always been a little bit of an enigma when it came to all of it. he was good at the drinking and alright at the getting high and absolutely fan-fucking-tastic at the getting his dick wet.
it was the goddamn dimples. everyone always fell for the dimples.
and sure, while jaehyun had had crushes before (johnny could read his little like no other), they'd always been fueled by the hormonal rush of adrenaline and testosterone pumping through his veins. in fact, johnny's not sure that jaehyun had had a proper crush on anyone at college after getting fucked over in high school, where johnny had also gone to with jaehyun.
not that johnny had really known jaehyun. he was quieter and kept to himself more then. didn't really hang out in the same crowd as johnny.
he knows that's not necessarily true. johnny had, truthfully, just completely overlooked jaehyun. like a lot of girls had until jaehyun had finally started to grow into his features.
but johnny knows jaehyun now and he also knows that if jaehyun had never met gianna lee, jaehyun wouldn't have ever dove headfirst into the deep end of shitfuckery and sleeping around with every breathing body in sight.
cliché story of course. college boy becomes a fuckboy after having his heart broken by a girl in high school. johnny's almost 100% positive that sia's shoved at least two or three novels like those in johnny's face, with the same exact plot.
but what is life but a series of clichés after all. and honestly, did it even matter? it was real. it happened to jaehyun. that was all. end of story.
so johnny doesn't even say a word when he sees the post-it note in jaehyun's trash can. he's silent as he watches sia and jaehyun talk and jaehyun fall into a period of overthinking (and jaehyun knows he's overthinking too because johnny can see him shake his head even as he continues to stare at the 'people' tab of intro to east asia).
and johnny finally decides to break his silence when he sees jaehyun with a new post-it note, although this time it was a much more tame blue post-it, and a pensive look.
jaehyun slips it to johnny to read as they're sitting at the local starbucks, with johnny filling out some paperwork for the job he was signed on for as soon as the school year ended and jaehyun studying for the organic chemistry exam he had coming up the next week.
he doesn't say anything when he passes the note but johnny can see him sideye-ing him to catch his reaction and it's all he can do to keep from letting a little smile slip through.
he hands the piece of paper back, watching as jaehyun immediately stuffs it into his backpack, and for some reason, he's really not sure what to say. if sia were here, she would know exactly what to say, and how to say it. she had a way of saying things that were a little too straightforward to feel good but also obviously coming from a generally good place.
it was one of the reasons why johnny had thought it would be a good idea to make it official with her. sia yoo was nothing like what johnny had thought - and the thought simultaneously frightens him and comforts him.
"you plan on asking her out on a date?" johnny says lightly, sliding his laptop over to pretend to look at his phone casually. in actuality, he's typing furiously to sia (one of the few people that johnny trusted or consulted when it came to advice giving) about what was happening.
johnny is not very surprised when sia's gray bubble appears, disappears, and then appears again only to say, "yeah, i know."
he waits for a more elaborate response. or even a more sia-like response but the more that he talks to her, the more johnny is learning that sia is more unpredictable than she really seems to be.
and sia yoo seems to be completely out of the box.
johnny shakes his head, as if to physically get rid of the thoughts of her from his head, unsure why he was thinking of her when he was supposed to be helping out one of his boys.
"yeah. i think so? i don't know. i mean we had a good time and we definitely have chemistry. but we literally just had one night in bed and that's it." jaehyun furrows his eyebrows as he realizes that's not just it. "well, there is the fact that kun was walking around singing her praises. and i know that fatima wouldn't be friends with kun or y/n if she wasn't sure they're both good people. not to mention the fact that i've always thought she's kinda hot. but it's always been superficial. even us spending the night together was really nothing more than finding each other hot or trying to figure out if the talk around town was real or not."
johnny takes a sip of his americano as he lets jaehyun's words sink into his own mind. jaehyun rests his heads on his arms crossed in front of him and johnny knows exactly the set of thoughts that's running through jaehyun's mind because they were the same as johnny's when he had decided to ask sia out on a date.
is it worth it? is it worth possibly getting my heart strung up on someone again just to face the possibility of breaking it again?
so johnny offers the only advice that he really has.
"talk to roseanne. girls' fiercest protectors are their friends and something tells me that talking to her will make you fall on one side or the other."
+++
the next time that jaehyun sees roseanne is a complete coincidence. he really only meant to say hi to one of his homies, yugyeom, on the way out of the library and hadn't expected to run into roseanne or miyeon at all. especially not a singular day after johnny had suggested that he seek her out in the first place.
he watches as yugyeom thumbs the rip in miyeon's jeans as he continues to talk to jaehyun about something jeongguk had done the previous weekend. and then he sees miyeon press a kiss to roseanne's cheek as she gets up to fill up her water bottle.
jaehyun didn't think he would understand that dynamic at all but whatever floated their boat. who was he to judge? he had watched the barbie movie and was still having a crisis about his masculinity and was actively searching out his one night stand's (were you still just his one night stand?) roommate and best friend to fix it. to be fair, he didn't really fully understand the barbie movie, to the chagrin of doyoung's girlfriend nairobi but that was besides the point.
yeah. jaehyun was really in no position to speak. wow he had a lot of things to work on internally. the more he talked to the women in his life, the more he was realizing this. again. not the point.
roseanne takes one look at his face and then exchanges a look with miyeon and then yugyeom before standing up and walking towards the exit, looking at jaehyun questioningly when she realizes that jaehyun hasn't moved an inch. jaehyun hurriedly bids yugyeom and miyeon goodbye as he rushes after her.
the two of them linger outside of the library and roseanne just raises an eyebrow as she appraises jaehyun. and for some reason, jaehyun stands up straighter, and she just sighs, a small smile playing on her lips.
"let me guess. 'who makes people work for their number? what is this? sprinkle sprinkle type of stuff?' or maybe 'this is kinda cringey, isn't it?' or just a sweet and simple 'what the actual fuck?'" roseanne says nonchalantly, listing out each possible question jaehyun could have come to ask.
"would it make me a bad man if i said yes to all of the above?" jaehyun asks, shoving his hands into his pockets. roseanne shrugs, crossing her arms across her chest.
"not really. i don't think so at least. it's a fair set of questions that even i asked her the first time a guy came up to me asking who the fuck my roommate thought she was," roseanne says. she takes sees the look of confusion on jaehyun's face as she continues, "you're definitely not the first person to ask me that but you are of a selective few. y/n usually doesn't let people get this far in the first place. and secondly, she doesn't really tell us much about people she's interested in until much later."
"she's a strange person, if i'm being honest with you. there's just something about her that makes her so captivating and invisible at the same time. she'll capture the attention of everyone in the room but if you talk to her, she'll make you feel like her best friend. she seems like an open book, and an even more open friend. and you feel so close to her within a conversation and then you end the conversation, you realize that even as she spoke, she revealed nothing about herself."
"i'm her best friend and i could tell you very confidently that i didn't know a single thing about her truly until recently. it made me frustrated at first. like i was a shitty friend or something. but the closer to her i got, the more i realized that she's always been a great friend but no one's been a great friend to her. she's very selective with the people she associates with - not just people she lets herself be seen with but people she confides in."
"this whole thing is a defense mechanism. she'd be caught dead before she'd ever admit it but she just hasn't been loved in the way that she's loved and now she's more guarded for it. i'll tell you this jaehyun, but if you want to give up, do it now. she says she's just going to give you her number if you earn it but once you get all 10 digits, know that she's gonna give you her heart."
"it seems like i'm violating girl code by telling you all this but like i said, even if you were to ask y/n, she would say the same thing. not in so many words but still. like i said. she's an open book and a closed heart. she knows you're gonna ask me and so she only tells me something that she would be okay with you hearing."
jaehyun, who had been listening quietly and patiently the whole time, cuts in with a quiet voice. "isn't it exhausting to live like that?"
roseanne looks at him strangely, as though she was truly seeing him for the first time. jaehyun doesn't know if he's offended or relieved that she'd done what he'd done to sia - made assumptions based on his appearance. he lands on neutral. it's human nature, to try and make proper guesses about who's gonna act like what.
the ancient art of preventing heartbreak, jaehyun supposes.
"maybe. i don't think so though. it's gotta be a different level of relief knowing that no one's gonna talk shit about you because a) no one knows you well enough to do that or b) because you're so careful with who you trust that you know they'd never betray you or even c) they can only talk about what you put out into the world. it's why censorship is so effective. people can only talk about what they know. there's few people who will ignore what they see to find what they can't see tangibly."
"are all of y/n's friends secretly poets or something? why the hell are you guys all speaking cryptically like you're all freemasons or some shit like that. i can't tell if i find it cringey or cool," jaehyun says, cocking his head.
roseanne lets out a real, full bellied laugh at that, clutching her stomach as chuckles escape her. jaehyun's not sure what he's said that's so funny but he knows for a fact that she's not laughing with him, but at him.
"why is it cringey, jaehyun? why would it be cool? it's just what it is. we're just girls. you'll see us at the party next weekend, drinking our weight in alcohol. we'll have the conversations about makeup and dresses and having fun and our future and our past. there's nothing like freemasonry, i promise. it's just so amusing to see men get alarmed by the thoughts that girls have been wrestling with since they've been twelve. the duality of man, i guess," roseanne says finally, once she's caught her breath.
jaehyun doesn't know how to respond to that so he elects to save the remaining tatters of his dignity by just not responding at all. if there's one thing he's learned about you, it's that you surround yourself by women who are not hesitant about putting him in his place. and he's oddly thankful for it.
"i have one last question. well, two last questions, actually," jaehyun says when he sees roseanne turning around to head back inside, still wiping the tears from her eyes from laughing too hard.
roseanne turns, a knowing glint in her eyes even before jaehyun asks his question.
"how many guys have talked to you? and what's the highest number anyone's ever gotten to?"
roseanne is silent and just as the silence begins to turn awkward, she promptly turns on her heel and begins to walk away. she opens the door to the library before she seemingly changes her mind and looks back at jaehyun.
"two guys have talked to me. you're gonna have to ask fatima about the second question though. and jaehyun? the next number is 6."
96_-___-____.
+++
jaehyun finds fatima not soon after his conversation with roseanne. he's sitting in the nct house, watching johnny pace back and forth in his room, trying to figure out if what he was wearing was too casual for a date to a bowling alley.
it was way too formal, in jaehyun's opinion. but he was just going to wait for johnny to finish panicking (even if he would never admit that he was, in fact, panicking) to figure that out on his own. seriously though, who wore a button down and slacks to a bowling alley?
then again, he was going on a date with sia yoo so really, anything was fairplay when it came to that girl. she was a whirlwind of literally everything that could possibly go into a human being. she was a maximalist to the fullest, seizing every opportunity she could to make good memories, pressing forward with a sense of perfect clarity and sobriety that most people would be scared of.
the type of girl who was the main character of any story that she would feature in. sia was the type of person that people who trip and fall over themselves trying to have a good time with that she practically promised. she walked around with fairy dust in her fingers and a strange sense of wisdom that felt like she could read you like a book within a singular meeting with her.
jaehyun knows that she's the most intimidating out of all of the girls. out of you, roseanne, fatima, and sia, she was hands down the most frightening because even though she could read everyone else, no one could really read her.
then there was roseanne. she was the wet dream of every girl alive - the reason why straight girls lamented that they were straight and still falling a little bit in love with her. she was hot, flirtatious to the extent of making everyone wonder what they were when she gave them even a split second of attention, and so incredibly full of life. it doesn't surprise jaehyun that she had become exclusive with miyeon and yugyeom. for some reason, he feels like she just wouldn't have been able to settle for liking one person at once.
she was a little too much for just one person to be able to handle. she was like the human personification of a leather jacket wearing, motorcycle driving, woody cologne smelling wattpad trope. jaehyun understands her appeal all too well.
and then there was fatima. she was kind, sweet, kept to herself, and always offered a helping hand to those around her. jaehyun understood why kun had fallen so hard for her within two minutes of meeting her. she had an air about her that made you feel like she was someone who truly cared about you, even if you didn't know her and she didn't know you all that well. she was the type of girl who was always forgotten in the novels about warriors and princesses. the girl who was often reduced to nothing more than the main character's best friend.
until you met a girl like her in real life. fatima was still a little forgotten, and jaehyun knew that. guys often overlooked her in favor of her 'hotter' or 'wilder' friends, which is admittedly what jaehyun had thought at first. but she was just so genuine and clearheaded. she protected her peace in a way that was so unusual for young, college-going students. not to say that sia, roseanne, or you weren't genuine or anything like that. but fatima was the type of girl that jaehyun knew was perfect for kun. the girl that he could go home and know that no matter what he had done in his past, she would love him all the same.
and there was you. smart, strangely private, and a series of contradictions housed within one heart. jaehyun wracks his brain, trying to gather everything that he knew about you and yet, he comes up empty.
frustratingly empty.
jaehyun vaguely registers the fact that johnny has finally changed and is getting ready to go. he knows that he should say something about how johnny should just be himself and that sia liking him is completely up to her, regardless of what johnny were to do. but when he locks eyes with johnny, he realizes that johnny already knows.
so jaehyun just claps him on the back as he heads back to his room, his mind spinning as he tries to think of everything that he knows about you. and he draws a blank every fucking time.
he knows superficial things about you. maybe it's because he doesn't know you like he knows your friends. he hasn't talked to you as much as he's talked to them. but how does he not know you? he's been wanting to get with you for so long. he wanted more than just your body. he wanted your charm and your appeal.
was it just your body? is that all it was? is that all jaehyun wanted? somehow, jaehyun doesn't want to believe that. he doesn't want that for himself. logically, he knows that gianna's impact on his life shouldn't be extending this far. he knows that he shouldn't want or have to fight himself this hard but you're not making it much easier for him.
when was the last time jaehyun wanted to get to know such an enigma of a girl? gianna lee. and he wants nothing to do with a girl like that ever again.
and yet, here he is. falling into the same trap all over again.
jaehyun's so caught up in his own thoughts, feeling himself starting to spiral when he bumps in fatima and kun, who are equally caught up in a conversation with each other.
"oh, my bad," jaehyun mumbles, ready for fatima to brush past him but she doesn't, looking at jaehyun and then kun.
"hey man, we're headed back to my place. why don't you come back with us?" kun offers, and jaehyun just nods blankly, as he starts to follow them out of the nct house. kun stops at the entrance where he picks up a textbook from yuta, who had been borrowing it for the last week, before the three of them make their way out.
"how are you, jaehyun?" fatima asks with a sweet smile as they pile into kun's car. somehow, jaehyun doesn't want to give her a generic, insincere answer.
"i'm...okay. i'm just okay. confused but okay," jaehyun says and fatima seems alright with this answer. kun pulls out of the 'driveway' of the frat house, exchanging in a quiet conversation with fatima about what they were planning on eating for the night, leaving jaehyun to simmer in his thoughts.
gianna lee. there was a name that he thought about almost every day and never all at the same time. the girl who had made him and broke him. the girl that jaehyun had trusted with his heart and made him regret ever doing that.
the girl who had been the first love of his life.
+++
gianna was a year younger than him. smart, so incredibly sweet, and yet someone that no one could confidently say that they knew. she was the type of girl who could slip under the radar as easily as her friends seemed to always stay on top of.
she ran in the same circle as jaehyun had in senior year, right when jaehyun was beginning to blossom into the man that he was today. she had always been kind to him, if not a little withdrawn, even when he was a skinny boy with proportions that absolutely did not seem to match each other.
jaehyun didn't even know her well enough for her to break his heart, honestly. jaehyun had liked her even before having a proper conversation with her. he knew how left out she felt in her own body. even though he couldn't imagine a more gorgeous girl, he knew that she didn't feel that way about herself.
he knew that she always compared herself to her friends. her well-accomplished, 'main character' best friends who were the talk of the school. and her. no matter how intelligent or kind or put together she was, no one really looked at her the way that jaehyun did. she knew it.
even jaehyun couldn't place why he liked her so much. maybe it was the fact that he was somehow comforted that a girl with so much beauty could feel the same way as him. maybe it was the fact that she had always held the same smile for him, regardless of what he looked like. or maybe it was even the fact that one time, she had held his hand as she pulled him across the street, running to catch up with their friends who had already crossed.
jaehyun just remembers looking at her dyed cherry red hair falling into her eyes as she laughs, pulling him forward to where the rest of their friends were standing. and as he breathes in the smoke in the air and the raspberry scent of her perfume, he just knows that he really, truly likes gianna lee.
gianna lee doesn't like him the way that he likes her. he knows that. logically, jaehyun knows that his feelings are truly unfounded. he really has no reason to like gianna the way that he does. and yet, there's a part of him that holds onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, she'll turn around with those big eyes and upturned lips and say that she likes him the way that he likes her.
so he continues to look at her first when he makes the friend group laugh. he always slips her a napkin when he's getting one for himself when they're out getting milkshakes. he offers to help her with apush when she's stressing about a test the next week.
the closer he gets to her, the more jaehyun realizes that really, she was nothing like the image of her he had conjured in his head. she was every bit sweet as he had thought but she was argumentative, competitive, and all too obsessed with perfection. she always needed to be right in an argument, always had to win, and always had to make sure that she looked flawless doing so.
jaehyun doesn't realize it, of course. he's so obsessed with his glazed over façade of her that he just continues to let her win the arguments even when he knows that she's wrong. and she lets him wrap his arms around her when she gets an 89% on her test.
he lets her walk all over him and she lets him act on his feelings.
it was a toxic, parasitic relationship that neither of them were truly happy in. when gianna asked him out, jaehyun hadn't felt like fireworks were going off in his stomach. he felt like he had won a prize at a marathon. like he'd won a medal.
gianna wasn't a medal. she was a flawed, beautiful human being - every bit gorgeous and horrible as jaehyun and every other human being was. but jaehyun had won, hadn't he?
he hadn't. and it took so long for him to realize that by the time he'd realized that gianna had really only taken to him out of pity, he was so far in his own head that he didn't know how to leave her.
eventually, the summer before college rolled around and gianna had taken it upon herself to do the nasty deed of breaking up with him. it had been an amicable split, as far as their friends were concerned.
but none of them had ever truly either of their friends. so what did they know?
what did they know about gianna finding comfort in her ex's arms? what did they know about her grades slipping at the end of the school year? what did they know about her having to excuse herself at a meeting for her internship to sob in the bathroom as she realized the true fallacy in the way she had acted? what did they know about the way she had to reconstruct herself bottom up? nothing.
what did they know about jaehyun spending every other night with a different girl, trying to ease the ache in his heart? what did they know about the obscene number of hours at the gym, not sure how to combat the sudden numbness after girl after girl? what did they know about the fact that jaehyun could not physically stand the smell of raspberries anymore? absolutely nothing.
no one knew anything until jaehyun had finally come to college. it was once he joined the frat and met guys who were so alike and different from him at the same time that he finally opened up about gianna.
only to doyoung, kun, and johnny but people nonetheless. everyone had gone through something similar - while for some it happened at college or back home, they all knew the pain. some of them were more in the fault than others but pain is pain and a paper cut bleeds the same red as a gunshot wound.
which is why when kun sits him down on the couch and fatima hands him a cup of iced tea to save them all from the sweltering heat as august makes a last stand against september's winds, jaehyun spills everything.
gianna. his past. his insecurities. everything. he knows he shouldn't. logically, fatima had nothing stopping her from going and telling everything that jaehyun had told her to you, but for some reason, jaehyun thinks that she won't.
she doesn't.
+++
fatima knows that jaehyun was going to talk to her about something like this. it seemed that all of the nct boys came with some level of trauma like this. she wasn't sure what it was about every single boy she had met in college (although, granted, they were either her friends' conquests or kun's friends - a very interesting group of very intertwined boys) having their hearts getting ripped to shreds. sometimes it was of their own volition but they all seemed to be some level of hurt either way.
so when jaehyun spills his heart out on kun's carpeted floors, she's ready with a well-rehearsed speech. he's one of six boys she'd already had this same exact conversation with (kun has a bad habit of picking up strays) but when he looks at her with such raw anguish in his eyes, she falters.
she looks to kun, who's looking at her with the same question that she knows jaehyun is asking.
"how do you know when to choose between your head and your heart? because my heart is so fucking scared of getting attached to someone again. but my head knows that i can't push everyone away because i'm scared."
fatima is quiet, searching for the right words. she's about to say something when kun speaks up, looking determinedly at fatima.
"you learn to choose you. instead of choosing between your head and your heart, just choose yourself. at the end of the day, you and y/n are good people who aren't trying to hurt each other. you're both trying not to get hurt. and honestly, maybe you'll realize that you both are better off as friends along the way. maybe you just realize that you don't want to be with someone right now. or maybe you find someone who makes you feel like you're safe and loved when you're around them, whether you're in love with them or not." fatima looks at kun with a soft smile, reaching out to hold his hand gently.
"you have to choose yourself, jaehyun. trust me. the more you start thinking about what is best for the people around you instead of thinking for yourself, you'll look back fifteen, twenty years down the road and see everyone but yourself in your life. don't do something because gianna and how she made you feel. don't let your past define your future," fatima says, and jaehyun can feel the tears prick his eyes. he blinks determinedly, trying to make them disappear but when kun sits on one side of him and fatima on the other, he starts losing his battle against his emotions, finally letting himself mourn the innocence he had once had.
he buries his head into fatima's shoulder and for some reason, he feels as though kun and fatima would be amazing parents. because jaehyun doesn't remember the last time that he had felt this safe in an embrace.
"and jaehyun? the furthest anyone has ever gotten is five numbers. you're at three. it's your call from here. do what you want, not what you think you need to do." fatima taps his shoulder gently and lets him cry for as long as he needs to.
963-___-____.
+++
jaehyun gets the next number from you. after his conversation with fatima, he's sure that if he wants to go any further than this, he needed to talk to you first.
it's strange. he's earning your number but it feels like jaehyun's somehow earning himself back. and when he finds you again, he knows that you can tell.
even johnny could tell. when he had come back from his (successful) date with sia, the first thing he had said was, "wow. you look so...light."
jaehyun hadn't said anything but 'thank you' but it was enough.
johnny had just smiled at him and recounted the date, stating that he was going to ask her to go on another date this saturday night. jaehyun doesn't mention the fact that nct is throwing that night because johnny already knows.
and honestly, sia is a junior and johnny is a senior. they've been to their fair share of parties. one party being missed wouldn't be life changing for them. but skipping a party as the vice president of a frat and a girl who was sought after as a sweetheart for six frats meant something nonetheless.
he hadn't expected that they were to get that serious that quickly but it was a refreshing change. even fatima and kun were starting about talking about talking to fatima's parents to get their blessing for their relationship. her dilemma was no secret and it seemed that the conversation between the three of them had served to help them through their own issues as well.
there was just something in the air, jaehyun had supposed. august turned to september in the week that jaehyun had wrestled with himself, eventually leading to seeking you out.
it had been at the nct party, actually. you were standing with some of your acquaintances, all of your friends having dispersed to do what they were going to do. jaehyun had been on the other side of the room, convincing bambam that it was most definitely not a good idea to try and pursue soyeon jeon if he wanted to make sure that he woke up with all his limbs intact the next morning.
you had met his eye, raising an eyebrow before continuing your conversation, all thoughts of him seemingly out of your mind. jaehyun looks between bambam (who has gone from trying to get with soyeon to jumping into the pool) (that pool had not been cleaned in a full six months) and you. he just finds jungwoo, one of the pledges, and hands him a very drunk bambam.
"do not let him do anything dumb. i'm counting on you pledge," jaehyun called out over his shoulder as he weaves through people to get to you.
"jaehyun! hey! long time no see," hailey whitfield says, throwing herself in jaehyun's arms. jaehyun looks at you, where you're staring straight at where hailey's body ends and his arms begin. jaehyun tries to push her off of him. once upon a time, jaehyun would've been behind happy about getting with her again - she was so good with her mouth. but now, he has no intentions of giving you the wrong impression.
at least until he has a proper conversation with you so that you knew where he stood with you. and where you stood with him.
"hey hailey, sorry i've gotta get to my friend," he says, not even looking at her as he pushes off of her, resuming his threading through the crowd to where you're standing. you look at him, unimpressed, but jaehyun knows you well enough to know that three numbers are enough to make you feel a certain way if jaehyun was fooling around with other girls.
which he hasn't been. not a single night. jaehyun jung's bed has been empty for an entire two weeks, something that doyoung and nairobi have been taking full advantage of.
even some of jaehyun's friends had started asking if he was having problems or something but he had brushed them off. he definitely wasn't having problems, if hailey whitfield was any indication. but he felt like it would be doing you dirty if he had someone in his bed while he was talking to your friends about you.
so he hadn't.
he knows you know. he knows that you know he's talked to sia, roseanne, and fatima. he'd figured that you'd find out either through them or just by him. he can tell by the look in your eyes that you've read him thoroughly.
so he really doesn't feel bad about pulling you away from your friends, taking you upstairs to his room. finally, doyoung had promised that they would go back to nairobi's place on the condition that jaehyun made sure that no one would try to fuck on his bed. he promised, knowing that the only person who'd be coming up here would be him. he needed to talk to you tonight. if he knew anything it was that.
but once you're sitting on his bed, watching him pace back and forward, he's lost everything he's been wanting to say. where does he even start? with gianna? with the questions he has for you? with the number? where does he begin?
jaehyun looks at you, where you're watching him with a small smile on your face and suddenly, it doesn't matter where he begins. you'll listen to it all. he knows that much.
"why do you want me to work for your number?" jaehyun asks. you look at him curiously, tilting your head as you piece together an answer.
"are you sure you don't know the answer to that question?" you say, folding your legs so that you're sitting criss cross on the navy covers.
"i do. but i want to hear it from you, y/n. you know what all your friends say about you? that they didn't properly know you until a full year of friendship with you. but they said that you never lie. so i want you to tell me," jaehyun says, chest heaving by the end of his ramble. his eyes turn soft as he watches you become more and more solemn and he steps forward, sitting down on his desk chair and swiveling it over so that he was sitting directly across from you.
you pause for a moment, searching for the words before saying anything. "i've never been in a relationship before. so i don't have the trauma that could come from something like that. but i know what it's like to lose your heart to someone. and i know that it hurts. i want to be loved in the way that i never thought i could be. so the number thing is just an excuse for me to get to the point where i won't feel guilty about liking someone."
you shrug, smiling but not allowing the smile to reach your eyes. "it's a good way to make sure that the guy knows what he's getting into either way."
jaehyun nods at that. he knew that much. it feels different hearing it from you though. when you're the one saying it, jaehyun knows that it's real. raw. not coming from people trying to protect you because they know that you're far too soft to truly come at him guns blazing.
somehow, he likes it. he likes that you're much softer than you seem. that you're a lot more vulnerable than you come off as. and for some reason, jaehyun hopes that you never perfect the art of becoming standoffish.
"hmm. you've never been in a relationship before?" jaehyun says finally and you nod, shrugging once more. a shadow of bittersweet nostalgia crosses your face before you're back to your soft smile and guarded yet curious eyes.
"nope. part of it was on me; i've got high standards, if you can't tell. and the other part was that i've always wanted someone who fascinates me. of course, i wasn't all that appealing to men because i spent so much time trying to beat them at the only thing they were good at - ego-boosting themselves but they weren't interesting. none of them were people i really wanted to get to know," you say, unfolding your legs.
jaehyun likes the fact that the tips of your toes are the only part of your feet that touch the ground from how far back you're sitting on the bed. in an act of boldness, jaehyun moves forward to sit next to you, right where you're sitting. his feet are flat on the floor, he realizes.
he doesn't know why he's noticing things like this but he is and something about that frustrates him, frightens him, and tugs at his heartstrings altogether.
"you're heartbroken, aren't you? boys like you always seem to be a little hurt," you say, tossing the words into the air like rose petals. they're recklessly thrown but they're somehow beautiful in the way that blackened roses are always beautiful.
"yeah. i was. i think i will always mourn who i was before that. i was so naïve. but i'm not him anymore. and i think i'm realizing that i'm actually okay with that." jaehyun says the words just as carelessly as you do but once they're out in the open, he realizes that he's being completely honest. he turns to you with a strange look though.
"boys like me?"
you smile and nod at him. "boys like you."
you stand up, walking to where jaehyun has a corkboard with a shitload of scraps and photos from the past two years. you don't mention the fact that none of the memories that he has on the board date from before senior year. you don't need to.
"boys like you who've never been loved completely. boys who think that they need to listen to what the world says about how they should be acting or thinking. boys who are hopeless romantics but what would the world say if they knew that these boys just wanted a little bit of love? what would they say if they were looking for warmth in an empty and cold bed?"
jaehyun hates that you're right. it's the college boy tragedy. condemned to never be able to completely heal from one bad experience and then always breaking hearts to collect enough pieces to build themselves a new one.
he didn't want to end like that. even if it wasn't with you, he was ready to grow past it. he didn't want to end as a heartbreaker.
"boys like me...and you like a boy like me?" jaehyun asks. he doesn't know why he does. this is the first proper conversation you've had with him when both of you are decidedly sober. you want to deflect the question but if he's being honest, that's a sign for you to be just as honest.
"i don't know. from what my friends say, and what i know about you as a person in class, i know you mean well. and honestly, i've always just been the type of person to like someone past things like the books they read or the way they dress," you say, still looking at the memories jaehyun's pieced together over the years on this board. "i feel something around you. and i don't know you well enough to know that i like you as someone more than a friend but i'd like to at least have the chance to get that far."
that's all jaehyun needs. he gets another number that night.
+++
jaehyun waits for you outside of intro to east asia, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet as he waits for you to make it out of the classroom. you're the last one to leave, knowing that technically, you and jaehyun weren't allowed to see each other while he was your ta.
jaehyun had never really pegged you as someone with so much respect for the rules but you had argued that it was mostly about the principle.
he'd learned a lot about you that last weekend. you and him had stayed up all night, talking about nothing and everything under the sun until the sun itself rose, eventually falling asleep in a tangled mess of limbs and conversations.
he learned that while you didn't like the rules, you often followed them as long as they followed your own moral code. that you would die for your friends and that had landed you in many bad friendships when people would use that to their advantage before you'd met your friends in college. he learned that you were super close with your family, and that they were quite literally the best friends that you could always rely on.
and he learned that you wanted to see him again. on a date. sometime soon. so with no real way of communicating with you outside of social media (and he somehow felt like sliding into your dm's was corny and somewhat of a copout), here he was. waiting outside of the classroom like he was ripped straight from a 1950's romance movie. he even had the letterman jacket on to boot.
"oh my god, you scared me," you say, pressing a hand to your chest as you quite nearly bump into jaehyun. he smiles, readjusting his backpack on his shoulders as the two of you start walking.
"you knew i was waiting for you outside, didn't you?" he says, pushing the side door open to walk towards the parking lot, where he's convinced kun to let him borrow his car for the day.
"yeah but i didn't think you would be literally outside the door," you murmur, checking your phone to see the rest of your day's schedule. you had purposefully blocked off three hours of your schedule to hang out with jaehyun, which you were sure to regret later on when your organic chemistry class kicked your ass. but that was a later issue.
"well, i couldn't text you where i was so i figured i'd wait in plain sight," jaehyun retorts, opening the passenger door for you without a word. huh. that was the first time a man has ever done that for you. and jaehyun did it as though it were second nature - like it was a given.
you don't know why something so small means so much to you but you're alright with it. you're alright with just appreciating it.
"that's fair," you say. another number's on the tip of your tongue as you watch him get into the driver's seat but jaehyun beats you to the punch.
"don't give me a number. not yet," jaehyun says. "not that i don't want one. but i just...me waiting outside your classroom or opening your door isn't enough for a number. even if i don't get all ten, you've got to up your standards."
you don't know what to say to that so you don't say anything, turning on the music and letting the melody of chemtrails under the country club by lana del ray fill the rainy september afternoon sky.
+++
when jaehyun pulls up to a run down diner, you're pleasantly surprised. although you're not much of a sucker for romantic places, the fact that jaehyun is somehow makes you happy. it makes you happy that he still sees the beauty in places like these. and when you look over at him, dimples threatening to show as he breathes in the air of misty fog and the smell of milkshakes and burgers, you're so tempted to kiss him.
so you lean over, looking at him with a twinkle in your eyes once jaehyun has parked.
"can i kiss you?" you ask, mere inches from his lips. jaehyun just looks at you, and from this close, you realize just how beautiful his eyes are. they're dark, darker than anyone else's that you know. and yet, it feels like you could fall in and never regret it.
"please."
it's all you need. and it's all he needs because as soon as word slips from his lips, he's pressing forward, his lips against yours. he's soft, you register vaguely. nothing like last time. nothing like how he'd kissed you like he could think of nothing but absolutely ruining you.
jaehyun is soft. like the feeling of slipping a cold hand into someone's warm jacket pocket. he kisses you like he's scared of ruining you. ruining this. and you're absolutely addicted to the feeling.
the feeling of knowing that he could just claim you instead of trying his best to claim your heart. no matter how fucked up it was that you were even thinking that someone could 'claim' you. he wasn't like that and you could work with that.
he pulls away from you, eyes still closed as he sits against the drivers seat, his head against the headrest. you watch him, a silly and childish smile on your face - although you're not really sure why it's there in the first place. but who are you to knock anything?
there aren't many words to exchange as the two of you make your way into the diner. jaehyun had opened your car door again. this time, you just offer him your hand and you're strangely alright with just how safe you feel with his hand locked in yours.
the diner seems as though time has frozen still here.
and everything about the date seems the same. it feels as though time has frozen still - almost as though the two of you are in a little bubble with no one but each other. it's a feeling you haven't experienced in a while. a feeling you don't think you've ever had because of a boy.
it feels...almost scarily comfortable. it doesn't feel as though there are fireworks exploding for every word that jaehyun says. but it does feel as though that there's a hot mug of cocoa that's been handed to you on a cold winter night. and that feeling, the feeling of warmth spreading through every corner of your body, is the feeling that you know is good for you.
so you listen to him, watch him speak animatedly about basketball or a book he read, chin resting in your palm as you find yourself falling deeper and deeper.
jaehyun gets two numbers that day.
+++
it doesn't take much longer for jaehyun to get the rest of the numbers. soon enough, you're more than happy just to spend time with him the way that you spend time with your friends. you feel as though you've made a good friend out of someone you'd thought that you wouldn't even be able to get along with.
"you know, when i first met you, even before i knew you, i really didn't like you," you say, taking a sip out of your latte. the seasons have changed, fall giving way to winter. the november air bites your skin every time someone opens the door to the tiny café the two of you were sitting in.
jaehyun smiles, nodding as he leans back in his chair. "i know. i could tell by the look in your eyes."
"the look in my eyes?"
"yeah. the one that said that you wanted to get to know me. to figure out my deal even if you didn't necessarily want to find out for sure. kind of like you wanted to be the one that said 'aha!' at the end of a movie, even though you weren't sure of the ending at all."
you look at jaehyun for a moment before laughing, shaking your head as you laugh. "you're even starting to talk like me now."
jaehyun pauses before he nods, smiling with you. "yeah, i know. you've rubbed off on me in a lot of ways."
"i've improved your music taste, that's for sure," you snort, taking another sip out of your latte. "i still can't believe you didn't like ric flair drip when we met."
"it's not that i didn't like it and it's still not that i like it now. but i guess i just have a good memory associated with it now so it's growing on me," jaehyun says. your eyebrows furrow as you try to recollect what good memory he could possibly be referring to.
"oh my god. the night that we met! i was trying to get in your pants with ric flair drip," you say incredulously, shivering when someone opens and closes the door once more. jaehyun hands you his hoodie, leaving his arm extended silently when you protest.
you don't know why you still bother trying to protest with him when you knew you were going to lose. you put the sweater on as jaehyun starts talking, letting the scent of clean water and pine trees swaddle you softly.
"honestly, i think i was more than you that night," jaehyun says, as he looks at you with an incriminating twinkle in his eyes. "that was around the time that even taeyong said that he wanted to see if kun's vivid descriptions were true or not. and i wasn't about to let him get the opportunity to get to you before i did. i don't know why. i felt almost protective over you. but not in a good way. in the type of way where i wanted to show you how good i could make you feel - more than anyone could even begin to think of making you feel."
the previously cold café begins to become a lot hotter than you were feeling before, clearing your throat as you try to let the moment pass.
"how did we even get here?" you say, fanning yourself delicately. the move only serves to work against you when you fan yourself so that the scent of his cologne on his hoodie only gets stronger in your mind.
jaehyun leans back, letting you switch the conversation. he'd bring it up to you later in the night, anyway. besides, for someone who puts on such a strong front, it's honestly a little fun to see you squirm at the slightest implications from jaehyun.
"but, uh, jaehyun. i've been meaning to ask you something for a while," you begin, fidgeting with the wrapper of the straw in front of you. jaehyun tilts his head as if to question what you have to say as he waits patiently.
"what are we?"
now jaehyun is truly confused. was the past month of going on dates not clear enough? jaehyun wasn't going on dates with anyone else. oh my god. were you going on dates with other men? is that why you're asking.
"i thought we were dating?" jaehyun says, phrasing his sentence more like a question than a statement. "i mean i'm not talking to anyone else and i kinda assumed that since i'd gotten all ten numbers, neither were you."
you hum, unable to stop the silly smile on your face.
"good. that's just what i was thinking too."
+++
honestly, everything about jaehyun jung is appealing to you. from the way that he engulfs you in a hug when you're up late studying. or the way that he convinces you that you have a virus on your laptop just so that he could spend more time with you 'fixing' your laptop for you. or the way that he sits with you and your friends, patiently listening and offering advice wherever he can (or honestly, is just allowed to speak).
you're so glad to see him like this. as your boyfriend of four and a half months (you hadn't let him make it official until he was no longer your ta), you've seen him grow in ways that you'd never thought. jaehyun was every inch the stupid, naïve fuckboy you'd thought him to be in the beginning. and he was also every inch the hopeless romantic with a little too much love to give for a scarred heart.
so you heal together. you help each other when you quite literally can't handle the pain and together, you grow. he's more confident. not just in the way that he looks - but the way that he speaks around people. the way that he educates himself. the way that he communicates how he feels.
and he helps you everyday. he shows you what it feels like to be loved the way you love others. he shows you that you are worth the princess treatment. and most importantly for you, he loves the people around you the way you love the people around you.
kun and fatima find their happy ending. fatima had spoken to her parents and while they took some time to warm up to kun, his soft demeanor and the way that he loved fatima so completely and sincerely eventually won them over. fatima even met kun's parents with equal success, although kun's mother kept asking when fatima and kun would get married.
(their wedding was already in the works by both fatima's mother and kun's mother. you were beyond elated to go to both the traditional muslim ceremony and the traditional chinese ceremonies.)
johnny and sia ended up going out on a couple more dates before realizing that they probably just weren't meant to be a couple. they loved each other as friends and were probably always going to hold a special place in each other's lives but it just wouldn't be as each other's significant others. johnny was already starting to retreat from the frat boy lifestyle after meeting a girl at the library one day. and sia had finally met someone who could handle her crazy personality with a sweet smile, bringing her back down to reality whenever she went a little...too lively. you're looking forward to meeting him over summer, where the four of you and your friends were going on a vacation together.
roseanne, yugyeom, and miyeon still haven't put a label on their relationship. but you've caught roseanne falling asleep in yugyeom's arms more than once (one too many times than rosie cares to admit) so you figure that it's a good thing that they've all found each other. as unconventional as their relationship might be, they all mesh together so well that you can't even find it in yourself to question it. all's fair in love and war.
jaehyun and you frequent the diner as a favorite date night spot to visit, although you're upset to hear that they're remodeling the entire establishment for favor of a new, more 'modern' atmosphere. although how modern a diner could get was a little bit of a strange notion. but as people change, so do the winds.
and when you walk into the diner the next semester, hand in hand with jaehyun, you're a little comforted to see that diner is now a speakeasy (in true 1970s fashion) with three words written in blinding rhinestones against the velvet background. of course.
ric flair drip.
2K notes · View notes
anantaru · 12 days
Text
⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ ACE OF SPADES
Tumblr media
part two. | rich boy aven masterlist.
synopsis. ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ your first date with rich boy aventurine is more fun than you initially expected, who knows where things will go from there // ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ♡
cw. fluff, slightly suggestive, rich boy au, reader wears a dress, flirty aventurine, a/n. this will have a part two if you can't tell, fem! reader ♡
Tumblr media
you turn your face to the left and let your visual perception take in the luxurious casino you've been invited in— undeniably, your first reaction was dedicated to the chimes of whistles of various slot machines announcing wins and losses, in combined action with racketing noises of their shafts being pulled.
your jaw parts and your eyes grow, it felt surreal to stand here with an expensive dress hugging your body tight, a small gift from your date, nothing more, nothing less. rich boy aventurine slowly slides his palm over the back of your hand to lure your thoughts back to himself as he intertwines his fingers with your own.
you stiffen, it didn't take a genius to notice that you were slightly nervous about your first date with the infamous gambler. if only he would've picked a better place to get to know each other— alas, in a way it was exactly what you've expected.
well yes, aventurine choose the probably, most unromantic spot for a first date— but, you got a dress as a gift, together with an embellished necklace and a free entry to a luxurious, private casino.
so, did you really mind? hmm, not really. in fact, it was quite unique and exciting to be here, you also felt safe by his side, and especially intrigued to get to know more about his, quote on quote, playground.
men, or how people called them here; high rollers in pretentious suits, glide like sharks over the soft tumble of the dice. it's all very crowded and distracting, needless to say it was interesting to witness, but you notice how your heart was thumping faster, that's when you began to feel yourself getting difficulties to breathe evenly.
snugly pressed against aventurine, you walk past the shrill murmur of crowds and bells of roulette wheels as the gambler spins you towards his chest, his hand carrying on to hold yours gently, "are you okay? you look a little nervous," he says nonchalantly, although his handsome voice told you a different story, an affectionate perception, "our table is right there, we can take a seat and talk if you want. "
your gaze slowly shifts to where aventurine was pointing his head towards as you look at a large table right next to the exclusive sight of exquisite gold and silver fountains and statuaries. this must've cost a fortune, you were certain that this area alone was the most breathtaking one.
you awkwardly glare up at him, your breathing picking up on tempo, "of course, but..." your last note was drawn out as aventurine cocks a curious brow at you, "would it be okay to excuse myself for a bit?"
you continue shortly, fists balled, "it's a little stuffy here, you see, i'd love to take some fresh air without bothering you about it,"
in all honesty, the air was, well, utterly despicable. the lofty mixture of overpriced cologne and sweat penetrated your nostrils to the point where it began to ache and scratch your brain.
despite the fact that everything was overwhelming in its entirety.
being embarrassed by your human reactions might be an imprecise wording and false emotion to feel, you shouldn't feel bad about this. although you felt awkward and uneasy to ask aventurine if you could take a swift breather outside.
what if he found you to be boring now? or even worse, ungrateful when it was him who made it possible for you to see something like this in the first place.
a high class casino that could never be visited by the ordinary.
he looks at you through his glasses and you could swear his eyes had a mellow glow, a tender glimmer of serenity as his lips carve into a handsome smile, "oh of course, lets go right away so you won't get nauseous," he utters out, his stomach sitting heavy with lead and eagerness to look out for you.
you freeze for a second, "uh, wait, i really don't want to ruin this night for you," and sigh, letting your gaze wander around everywhere but his direction before tapping out a nervous rhythm against the soft marble on the floor.
all aventurine does was laugh airily, "you're adorable,"
"you're not ruining anything, in fact, you really couldn't, even if you tried,"
ugh, everything about you is just so pretty, you're sweet and angelic and he's glad he's bought this dress for you, it fits you like a second skin— aventurine takes note of your beauty, he stores it into the most important places in his brain so he could dream about you later.
memorize how this dress looks on you. closer and closer.
"but here, take my jacket, okay? it's rather cold," he flips his jacket down his shoulders before draping it over your own before suddenly closing the distance from his lips to your ear— silent, there's a voice next to your skin, it's deep, handsome and smoking hot. barely above an octave as it holds a teasing verge to it, "i wouldn't want you to catch a cold, yeah?"
you hum in agreement as you rest your hands above his clothed chest, butterflies storm through your belly and settle heavily inside as aventurine wraps one arm around your waist, his breath wafting around your lovely lips.
you felt the need to kiss him, and so did he, feel the same towards you. for a moment, you two linger feeling each others warmth a little longer, relishing in your precious attempts to getting to know each other better. it's slightly awkward, you could tell that aventurine noticed how your eyes were fighting the urge to keep admiring him.
yet, he's not complaining— he could never, not when you're so cute, and your touch on him was consistently warm, your trace firm but confident, content and safe.
he hopes you will enjoy yourself tonight, and maybe, only maybe, you will invite him over to your place later.
Tumblr media
©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
826 notes · View notes
Honey Girl. Chapter Seven.
Tumblr media
chapter one. chapter two. chapter three. chapter four. chapter five. chapter six. chapter eight. series masterlist. the playlist.
Chapter Synopsis - Everything will work out the way it’s supposed to. At least, that’s what you and Bucky keep telling yourselves.
Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au
Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption.
Word Count - 4.8k
Author's Note - I can only apologise for the delay on this one angels!! january blues, a crazy work schedule, writers block.. they all came to play at the same time. but chapter seven is finally here!! I hope you enjoy it. thank you for the continued love on this - words can’t describe how incredible it is.
as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3
Masterlist. Inbox.
Tumblr media
“Why aren’t you more surprised?”
Stella simply shrugs, sipping her cappuccino as if she has all the time in the world.
“Babe, with all due respect… I’ve been waiting for you to initiate this conversation for like two months.”
You look at her incredulously, fiddling nervously with a chip in the handle of your coffee cup.
“…Why? How?”
She smiles softly, reaching for your hand across the table.
“You’re miserable.”
You take a deep breath, and then another. After the fifth one, you find the courage to meet her eyes.
“How did you know?”
“Because I know you. You’re a hell of an actress, I’ll give you that.”
“It’s not you-”
“I know. Hey, I know. You don’t have to explain yourself.”
“I do.”
She waits for you, patient as ever. You’d be lying if you said the guilt wasn’t eating you up, slowly but surely from the inside out. You feel like you’ve let her down, disappointing the one person who’s given you your dream.
You realise, suddenly, that you haven't told anyone the full truth about everything. Not your Mom, not your Dad, not Lacie. Your Tethering, Bucky, the move to California - all your feelings and emotions over the past how ever many months have been bottled up and stowed away on a shelf, never to be opened. But you have the urge, now, to unscrew the cap and pour it out across the table, regardless of the mess.
So, you do.
"It's not you. You've given me everything I could have ever wanted, Stel, and I couldn't be more grateful. You know that, right?"
She nods, squeezing your hand.
"It's just been hard... emotionally. So, I, the thing is, I just..."
You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.
"I'm Tethered. I have a soulmate, and he lives back home. We found out literally right before you called me and asked about the business. I couldn't turn you down, I knew that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. I couldn't just let it pass me by. I knew we could do this, me and you, together. And I thought I’d be able to cope.”
You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.
“Being away from Bucky has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. It’s like… I can’t breathe properly without him. Food isn’t as flavourful, colours aren’t as bright, the sun isn’t as warm. The separation is actually having physical effects that I’m not sure I can handle anymore.”
You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.
“I’ve held out for as long as I possibly can. I was hoping that maybe it’d pass, that we’d get used to it and it’d all wear off. But it hasn’t. If anything, it’s worse than ever. The separation is ruining us both.”
You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.
“I’m sorry. I know you’re going to tell me not to apologise, but I am. I’m sorry. You’ve given me everything and I’m just… quitting on you. I love this job so much, Stella. I can’t even find the words to describe how much. But I think either me or Bucky will break soon. And I have to prevent that from happening.”
You inhale.
Stella looks at you with so much compassion, you fight the urge to burst into tears.
You exhale.
“Listen to me, okay? You are one of the best damn bakers I have ever met in my life. No one in culinary school even came close to you. I always knew that I wanted you on my team, by my side, in my corner - in the kitchen, and everywhere else. But-"
You chew your bottom lip, wincing when you taste copper.
“We don’t have to be in each other’s pockets. We can be business partners and not see each other everyday. These are the joys of modern technology, babe. We can call, text, video chat, and then schedule in person meetings when we can. If anyone can make a cross country partnership work, it’s us. I mean, come on.”
The weight lifts from your shoulders, slowly but surely. A glowing, molten warmth trickles through your veins, hopeful and real and alive.
“And this,” she picks up your business plan, all printed and pretty. “This is air fucking tight. I’m not saying you picked the wrong career, but… business could definitely be your Plan B.”
You laugh, ignoring the way your voice cracks slightly, still choked with emotion.
“Babe, I was going to franchise the business eventually anyway. Sure, this is a little earlier than I first thought, but why the hell not? We’re successful, we’ve done so well… what’s stopping us? We know we can do this. And I trust you. So much.”
“Thank you,” you whisper, easing your death grip on her hand ever so slightly. “I thought I was gonna ruin everything.”
“You haven’t ruined anything, I promise you. This is a good thing.”
She thinks for a moment, lost in her own thoughts. Suddenly, she grins at you, nosy and mischievous.
“So a soulmate, huh?”
You groan, burying your face in your hands - but you can’t fight the smile that spreads across your cheeks.
“Yeah. It’s been… complicated.”
“He’s that super hot guy that came to see you, right? The one that looks like he could be a model?”
Laughing, you nod, making mental note to relay this to Bucky on the phone later.
“How did it happen? Was it like, a stranger on the street moment?”
“Nope,” you recall fondly. “We knew each other already. He’s my Dad’s best friend.”
Her jaw drops open, eyes flickering across your face.
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah.”
“Holy shit, babe.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s amazing. Shit, no wonder you’ve been under so much stress. What did your Dad say?”
“He… doesn’t know.”
“What?”
“We need to tell him, I know we do, but it’s just so complicated. I’m worried that it’ll change everything, and not for the better.”
It’s been eating away at you, lately. The fact that your parents don’t know originally made perfect sense, but now? It’s been almost a year. You’ve never kept anything from them for that long. Now, you’re worried that you’ll never be able to undo the damage of lying and keeping secrets from the two people you always promised never to do that to.
"Look, I know I'm not exactly qualified to give out soulmate advice, but... you can't change this. It's literally been written in the stars. Your parents will understand, okay? But the longer you wait to tell them, the worse it'll be."
“Yeah. You’re right. It’s just - it’s tough. It’s gonna change everything, forever.”
“But isn’t that the beauty of it? It’s going to change everything, forever.”
You jump out of your seat and wrap your arms around Stella, holding onto her as tightly as you can. She hugs you back fiercely, speaking a thousand words without saying anything at all.
“Proud of you,” she murmurs into your hair.
“For what?” you laugh.
“Putting yourself first. Your health, your mental wellbeing, all of it. I know it wasn’t easy.”
“Love you,” you whisper, fighting back tears of relief.
“Love you too, my baker extraordinaire.”
You sit back down and take a breath, deep and full. Relaxing into your chair, you allow yourself to finally think about the next steps.
“So, I was thinking about going home and scouting out locations. I have that list of places that you read over in the business plan, but I thought of a couple more last night a few miles further out. I’ve pre prepped a few days worth of our best sellers, so you should be good without me.”
“Of course, babe. I’ve circled a couple where I really liked the look of the listings you’ve printed, and written a couple of notes for you to look over - just logistical stuff. Go back home, see your family and your soulmate,” she smirks, raising her eyebrows suggestively, “and just relax. God knows the stress lately has taken a couple years off your life. Please, get those years back on the beach or with your man or something.”
You laugh, shaking your head. She’s right, though. The stress has been resting stagnant in your muscles, tight and wound, making everything harder. You can’t wait to sit on the sand in Bucky’s arms and feel the tension melt from your body.
“You’re the best, Stella. You know that right?”
“So I’ve been told. Many, many times.”
Hours later, Bucky watches you on video call, laptop propped up on the dresser as you pack your bags excitedly. He hasn’t stopped smiling since he picked up, anticipation of the future lighting up his bones.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You show up at your parents house without warning.
You thought about calling first, but decided it’d be much more fun to surprise them. It’s a Friday evening, and you know they’ll both be sat out on the back deck, drinking wine and recapping their weeks. It’s getting warmer on the East Coast, the sounds of spring and summer slowly filtering through.
Your Mom throws open the door, her face lighting up with glee.
“Babygirl!”
She throws her arms around you, rocking you back and forth so forcefully you’re worried you might fall over.
“My baby,” she exclaims, beaming grin almost blinding you. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“It’s kind of a long story. I’ll tell you all about it.”
She grabs your face in her hands, forcing you to look her in the eyes.
“Are you okay?”
You nod, smiling as the setting sun warms your back.
“Yeah, Mama. I am.”
She believes you. For the first time in a long time, you believe you too.
“Come on. Your Dad is gonna be so excited to see you.”
You leave your bags in the car, prioritising seeing the man who’s currently shaking his hips to the soft salsa music that’s playing.
“Nice moves, Casanova.”
He whips his head around, laughing when he sees you stood against the doorframe watching.
“You like em? I need a partner, babygirl! Come on!”
He grabs your hands, pulling you further into the yard so you have more space. You take up a terrible ballroom dance posture with him, cackling as he dips you backwards and almost drops you.
“Don’t kill my baby, please Jack!” your Mom calls from the kitchen window.
She returns with a glass of pink wine in her hand, gesturing for you to come and get it. Your Dad spins you over to her, steadying your shoulders when you trip over his shoes.
“It’s like The Universe knew you were coming to us tonight, darling. We opened the strawberry wine and everything.”
“My favourite.”
You get comfy on the loveseat, sitting across from your parents who are pressed together on the outdoor sofa. The wine is sweet and sugary and exactly what you needed.
“So, what are you doing here, kiddo?”
“It’s a little… complicated. But the good kind of complicated, I think.”
You start at the beginning. Well, almost. You leave out the part about finding Bucky, waiting for him to be with you when you tell that part of the story. You agreed that you’d talk to your parents about your relationship together, and you’re not about to break that promise. You do, however, explain everything else to them.
They listen carefully, nodding and smiling to let you know they’re still with you. When you talk about the difficulties you’ve faced, they wear matching frowns as your Mom fights back tears. Eventually, you sit in silence, waiting for their reaction.
“I wish you’d said something sooner.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I just… I thought I could do it on my own.”
“Honey, you never have to go through anything alone. That’s what we’re here for - we’re like, your built in therapists. Both me and your Dad would have happily listened if you’d called us, no matter the time or place.”
“Thank you. Both of you.”
“So this means you’re moving home?”
You nod, trying to contain the excitement bubbling up inside of you.
“Well it’s a good job we didn’t end up renting your apartment, huh?”
“You didn’t?”
“We thought about it, but it didn’t feel right. And we wanted to see you settle down in California first, just in case. I don’t either of us were ready to see someone else in that place. It’s yours.”
“You big softie,” you tease, nudging your Dad with your foot. He grabs it and squeezes, laughing when you squirm out of his grip.
“Well this is a cause for celebration, isn’t it?”
When you were younger, you used to get embarrassed that your Mom would throw parties for everything. Now, it’s one of your favourite things about her. She’s taught you to embrace the joy of the little things in life.
“What are you thinking, Mama?”
“Tomorrow night, a few friends. I’ll make a big paella, we can drink wine, play cards… what do you say?”
“Sounds perfect.”
And it does. The ease of being back home has calmed you down, untied the knots in your shoulders. You feel warmed by love, from the inside out.
You leave your parent’s house, promising to make a dessert of some kind for tomorrow. As you drive away, you suddenly realise that you’re headed in the wrong direction. You’re not going home. You’re going to the person that feels like home.
Bucky.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
He’s waiting for you on his front porch when you pull up.
“Hi, honey baby.”
“Hi, handsome.”
You launch yourself into his arms, savouring the warmth rolling off of him in waves. He smells like fresh linen and sea salt and all your future plans.
“You felt me coming, didn’t you?”
“From a mile off.”
He’s grinning, beaming in all directions.
“Good job it wasn’t a surprise visit, huh?”
“There’s no such thing anymore.”
“Good.”
He grabs your face in his work rough hands, gazing at you as if you’re the sun. You realise, suddenly, that you are. You are the one thing that his world revolves around. And he is yours. Forever.
“You gonna kiss me, Buck, or just stare at me, hmm?”
He chuckles before leaning in to press his lips to yours. You sigh in contentment and pull him closer by his shirt, tilting your head back to let him slip his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like scotch and spearmint, a perfect picture of his evening.
“Have you been drinking alone, cowboy?”
“Needed some liquid courage. Knew you’d come by.”
“I make you nervous, huh?”
The filthy smirk written across your face sends electricity crackling across his skin, the hairs on his arms standing up.
“Thought you’d have figured that out by now.”
“You’re really blowing up my ego, you know. I make the Bucky Barnes nervous. Who’d have thought?”
He shuts you up by kissing you again, snaking his hands around your back to plaster your bodies together. You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging on it slightly.
“You’re letting your hair grow.”
“You like it long.”
You stop for a moment, watching his face carefully.
“Yeah. I do. How’d you know?”
“You pull it more when it’s long. Can feel how much you like it.”
“You’re a menace,” you laugh. “How about you take me inside, and I’ll show you just how much I like it? Unless you wanna give your neighbours front row seats…”
He chuckles and shakes his head before throwing you over his shoulder, laughing harder when you start shrieking. He carries you over the threshold, a beautiful prediction of years to come.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You and Bucky spend the evening in his kitchen with the windows open, watching the setting sun. The gentle ocean breeze flows through the room, tussling Bucky’s chocolate brown hair and glinting off the ice in his rocks glass.
“You want me to come with you tomorrow, when you scout locations? I’ll be your chauffeur, if you like.”
“What about work?”
“I’m the boss, baby.”
“So you keep reminding me.”
He kicks you lightly under the table, laughing when you stick your tongue out at him.
“Yeah, Buck. I’d love it if you came with. You can use your contractor knowledge and help me out.”
“It’s a date. You want me to bring my clipboard? Tape measure? Mechanical pencil?”
“You gonna bring your talking machinery too, Bob The Builder?”
Bucky stands from his chair and pulls yours out, wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you up. He spins you around before putting you down and dragging you up the stairs, kicking his bedroom door open.
He throws you onto the bed unceremoniously, chuckling when you almost bounce off. You toss your shirt at his face, before shucking off your jeans and doing the same thing. He catches them with ease, winking at you before undressing himself.
He crawls up your body, kissing any skin he can find as he goes. He starts at your ankle, before moving to your knee, your thigh, your hip, your stomach, your chest, your neck, and eventually your lips. You’re almost shaking, alive with the anticipation of having every inch of Bucky pressed against you.
“Tell me what you want, baby,” he rasps into your ear. “I’ll give it to you. Anything.”
“Just want you.”
“Need to get you ready first,” he murmurs, fingers trailing between your legs. His breath hitches when he feels how wet you are.
“Oh honey,” he groans. “You been like this all night? Hmm?”
“Since I first saw you waiting for me.”
He groans again, resting his head in the crook of your neck.
“Please, Buck. Just wanna feel you.”
Who is he to deny you when you ask so damn pretty?
“You’re killing me,” he mutters against your skin.
Bucky slides into you with one smooth thrust, biting down on your shoulder as he does it. You shudder at the feeling, and at the thought of having the imprint of his teeth on you later.
You both gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in to you. You loop your legs around his waist, heels digging into his ass to press him even closer.
“Fuck me,” you choke out. “Need it, Buck.”
“My needy girl,” he chuckles lowly. “Gonna give you everything.”
Bucky retracts his hips before thrusting back into you, deep and full. You whine, and he’s convinced the sound will never be matched. It’s like angel song, rose tinted and heavenly.
He fucks you into the mattress, long, slow thrusts that make you want to cry a little. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt so connected to him - every single part of you touching his, bodies plastered together and souls intertwined.
He presses open mouthed kisses into the crook of your neck, right into your sweet spot. When he feels you getting close, he dances his fingers down your body and circles your clit, languid but precise. Your back arches as you find your release, clawing your nails down his back and locking your ankles around his hips.
“Oh fuck, honey - fuck.”
Bucky finishes with a shudder, sinking his teeth back into your shoulder. His raspy groans hit your ears just right, sweat dripping down onto your dewy skin.
“Love you, baby. Fuck, I love you.”
You’re both panting, trying to catch your breath as you come down from your highs.
“I love you too,” you giggle, pressing kisses to his damp forehead.
He collapses his weight onto you, chuckling when you groan. You push him off so he can lie next to you, strong arm thrown over your stomach as he pulls you in close.
You stay tangled for a while, letting the breeze from the window cool you both down. Bucky traces absentminded patterns across your back, rough fingertips sending goosebumps over your skin.
“I’m excited for tomorrow,” you murmur, keeping the volume low.
“Me too. Feels like a big step for our future, doesn’t it?”
“I just never imagined I’d have… this. You, the job I’ve always dreamed of… it doesn’t feel real. I mean, we’re going to look at places for a second location of my business. Who ever could have predicted I’d say that sentence?”
“Everything works out the way it’s supposed to. I told you that, that night on the beach. Before we knew. Remember?”
“I remember,” you smile, recalling that evening. You’d felt so inexplicably connected to Bucky that day. Little did you know what was to follow.
You fall asleep wrapped up in Bucky’s arms, warm and content.
You’ve never known happiness like it.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The day flies by with Bucky by your side.
You’re a little out of your depth, admittedly. You don’t know much about real estate, or what makes a viable location for a bakery. But Bucky helps - explaining what to avoid, warning signs to look out for, checking out all of the boring stuff like gas mains and water pipes and backup generators. He never patronises you, even when you look at him like a deer in headlights. He clarifies himself when you become unsure, laying out explanations carefully and simply. He’s the perfect right hand man.
“You almost ready, honey?”
“Yeah Buck, give me one second!”
You walk into the kitchen where Bucky’s leaning against the counter, beer in hand. He’s in loose jeans and a linen button up, the white shirt beautifully showing off his tanned skin. He’s got several buttons undone, toned chest peeking through. He looks effortlessly perfect.
You stop in front of him, fixing the buckle on your sandals. You look up at Bucky to find him staring at you, open mouthed.
“You alright, handsome?”
“You look… you look - fuck, you look gorgeous.”
Heat rises up your skin, still so susceptible to his compliments.
“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” he chuckles into your mouth.
Bucky rests a hand against the base of your throat, pulling you into him. His other hand plays with the hem of your dress, your skin burning where his fingers brush. You kiss him back harder, groaning when he nips at your bottom lip. He sucks on your tongue, and your knees buckle.
You pull back suddenly, putting three feet of distance between you.
“We need to go.”
Your hair is tousled, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as you try to regain your composure. Bucky smirks at you, laughing when you flip him off.
“Come on. My parents and paella await us.”
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
Your Mom has done it again.
Golden lights adorn the beams of the deck, the table littered with flowers and wine glasses begging to be filled. There’s already a few people scattered around the yard, chatting and laughing in the warm evening air.
“Oh baby, you look so beautiful.”
Your Mom engulfs you in a hug, pulling back to look at you from a distance. You’re wearing a yellow sundress, form fitting in all the right places. The skirt blows in the gentle breeze, fanning around you like an angels halo.
“This place looks amazing, Mama. I made you a tropical tart - it’s pineapple and coconut, with a mango coulis.”
“Oh, it’s gorgeous. I’ll put it in the fridge and get you some wine, honey. Buck, you want wine or beer?”
“Wine, please Lori. You need a hand?”
“If you’re offering,” she winks, laughing when he pokes her in the side as they leave towards the kitchen.
“Your father says you’re moving back home.”
You turn around to see Cora looking at you expectantly. You haven’t seen her since the incident that evening months ago.
“Uh, yeah. I love California, but I think I outgrew it after culinary school.”
She nods at you in faux sympathy, overbearing and sickly sweet.
“Aw, sweetie. Sometimes, things just don’t work out the way we hoped, huh?”
“Mhmm,” you hum noncommittally. “Yeah, I guess.”
You look for an exit, but she rubs your arm in support, pulling you back.
“I saw you today, you know.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes! Down on Maple, by the corner. You were with Bucky.”
You freeze suddenly, blood running cold. You and Bucky are always affectionate, whether you mean to be or not. It’s just the way it is, being alongside your soulmate. Of course, Cora doesn’t know this. All she’s seen is you, out in town with your Dad’s best friend, looking cosier than platonic.
Your ears are ringing. You wonder, for a second, if you’re experiencing deja vu.
“Yeah, he… he has contracting experience. Just needed a second opinion. I’m no builder, after all.”
You force a laugh, willing the ground to swallow you up.
“You two are friends? You seem pretty close.”
She’s watching you, waiting for a reaction. You don’t give it to her.
“I’ve known him for a while, I see him often. He’s a good friend to my Dad, so you can imagine we know each other pretty well by now.”
“Yeah. It sure looked like it.”
You’re wracking your brain, trying to understand what she saw. Then it hits you.
On the corner of Maple is a florist’s, alive with blooming flowers and plants of every colour. You’d been admiring the tulips when Bucky had wrapped his arms around you from behind, whispering in your ear about how you’re the prettiest flower of all, honey.
There’s no running away from this. She’s caught you, in broad daylight.
“We’re friends,” you reiterate, praying for mercy.
You shoot her a fake smile before turning on your heel, making a beeline for the kitchen to find your Mom. When you get there, you gulp down your entire glass of strawberry wine, begging the sugar to lift your mood and calm your nerves.
The rest of the night goes off fairly smoothly.
You eat paella and fruit tart, drink wine, laugh with your parents and their friends. Bucky occasionally slips a hand beneath the table, squeezing your thigh in silent reassurance. You tangle your fingers with his for a moment before letting go, praying everyone else is none the wiser.
Every time Cora opens her mouth, your chest constricts a little. But she seems to have learnt her lesson somewhat, only speaking to tell obnoxiously long and tangent filled stories and offer comments no one asked for. Eventually, you all disperse from the table, making conversation elsewhere.
“What’s on your mind?” a low voice rasps in your ear.
You’re sat on the swing in the corner of the garden, watching the world go by. Bucky snakes his arm over the back of it, fingertips brushing your shoulder.
“Cora saw us today. Think she knows.”
“She’s a fucking nuisance.”
You laugh, the sound vibrating through Bucky’s bones.
“Yeah, she is. She’s also a gossip. She won’t keep her mouth shut for long if she thinks she’s sitting on something newsworthy.”
He thinks for a moment, taking a deep breath.
“So we tell them.”
“So we tell them.”
You lean back into Bucky’s arm, inhaling the familiar scent of peace.
“We should do it as soon as possible.”
“How about tomorrow?”
You nod, biting your glossy lips.
“Yeah. We need to do it sometime, and we’ve delayed the inevitable for long enough. We’ll do it tomorrow.”
Bucky nudges closer to you, so your sides are pressed together.
“It’ll all work out the way it’s supposed to, honey girl.”
You smile gently.
“I know. I don’t think I believed you the first time you said that to me. But I do now.”
“You and me against the world, baby.”
“You and me against the world, Buck.”
It truly feels like it, at the moment. You and Bucky against the world.
Tumblr media
tag list part one
@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff  @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara  @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen   @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance  @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk
801 notes · View notes
rageserenity · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
It's 2024. Are you still thinking about movieverse!Cherik? Because I am.
For the past several months, there's only been a very slow trickle of posts/fics in the xmcu cherik tag. Let's try to breathe some life back into this incredible pairing!
With one clear winner of my poll, here's thirty prompts for the thirty days of April. (This is a super chill, laid-back event---do these in any order, interpret them as loosely as you like! Create in any medium! Fic, art, gifs, meta, incoherent screaming about the otp…all winners in my book.)
The only rule here is to cherik too close to the sun. Alright. Here are the prompts.
Mutual Pining
Doesn't really even need elaboration! Write that horrifically slow slow-burn. Gif every time McAvoy made insane fuck me eyes on screen. Make a playlist of songs about impossible love.
2. Alternate Meetings
There are endless quotes about how these two complete each other in a way no one they'd met before or after ever did. How else could they have met?
3. Erik Has A Telepathy Kink
This is basically canon. Let my boy get freaky!
4. Canon Fix-It
All the times Fox fucked it up. There are endless options.
5. Hurt/Comfort
Put them in that Situation. Put them in that Blender. Break them apart and put them back together ❤️‍🩹
6. Canon Compliant
Draw that missing scene! Gif your favourite cherik moment!
7. Beach Divorce
Make it worse. Make it better. Show it to us exactly how it was. Break it down in a 3,000 word meta. Go wild!
8. Domestics
Sometimes you just want to see them doing normal couple things. Erik put the gun down.
9. Found Family
The real heart of x-men!
10. Time Travel
There are SO many possibilities here. Stick them in a time loop. Give them a chance to change their past.
11. AU
Love a good AU!
12. There Is Only One Bed
Had to get this one in here. What better way to amp up the tension?
13. Genosha
By some miracle, cherik actually did end up together at the end of 2019s trash bag disaster Dark Phoenix. We aren’t making a big enough deal about this.
14. Declaration(s) of Love
Who says it first? How do they say it and when? Have they said it…without saying it?
15. Jealousy
Need I say more.
16. Reunion
These two have absolutely no chill.
17. Soulmates
Classic prompt, had to get this in here too.
18. The DOFP Aircraft
The TENSION here. Break it down for me. How does Charles feel about his injury? How does Erik feel about his injury?
19. Gay Mutant Road Trip
You already know.
20. Body Swap
SO fun when people have superpowers.
21. First Kiss
When? How? Who initiated it?
22. The Mansion
Mansion!content is a genre of its own.
23. Conflicting Ideology
Give me your theses. Who’s right? Can they ever reconcile completely? Write a fic where it drives them apart.
24. Sebastian Shaw
A trope unto himself.
25. Team As Matchmaker
They had to have known something was going on, didn’t they?
26. Cooking
Charles deserves a good meal. Also, imagine Erik using his powers in the kitchen. The sheer domesticity…
27. Hurt No Comfort
Plenty of scope with these two 🥲
28. Growing Old Together
Giving Sirs Ian Mckellan and Patrick Stewart their props as well!
29. Making Up
*pushes chess board across the table* sorry babe
30. Charles Xavier Did More For Mutants Than You'll Ever Know
Rising to each other’s defense. Only I can insult this man.
I will be tracking #revivecherik to reblog stuff! Here’s a fic collection for the same. Let’s get this ball rolling! Please feel free to send me an ask if you’ve got anything to say! And most importantly, let’s all have fun 😁
*I know a few of you preferred something like a gift exchange because of the commitment factor—I’m super down to organise a tiny one for the handful of us! If this promptathon doesn’t flop horribly, we can hopefully do a whole bunch of stuff :)
If you read this post all the way through, please reblog for reach! Thank you! Hoping you participate come April.
Shoutout to @inmymagnetoera for reaching out and helping with this!
474 notes · View notes
remlionheart · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
“You came.”
“You called.”
✧˚ · .MDNI 18+✧˚ · .
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾ WHEWWWW. I had no idea when I first started writing this just how much it was going to suck me in. Sweet/toxic!Megumi had my brain doing fuckin' wheelies. All characters are aged up. 21+. Fem!reader x Megumi. AU where Megumi was raised by Toji and is navigating adulthood while still carrying around those old parental wounds. Hurt comfort / angst / smut. porn with a plot. praise kink girlies, this is for you. 3.6k words. super proud of this, lemme know whatcha think. luv you <3 ‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
It’d been 4 months since the last time Megumi had seen you.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
He’d woken up in what used to be your apartment with the taste of liquor from the night before still lingering on his tongue and unwanted snippets of your latest fight still ringing in his ears. He rolled over to see you curled up on your side, as far away from him as you could possibly get while still sharing the same bed. He ran a hand over his face, regret and nausea churning in his stomach while more flashbacks of the argument that had caused the divide between you smashed through his mind.
His footsteps were heavy as he made his way into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He turned the water up as hot as it would go before stripping out of his boxers. He wanted to sweat out the guilt he felt. Wanted to burn away the insults you’d both thrown at each other. Wanted to focus on anything else besides the way he’d made you cry.
He winced when the water made contact with his skin. It was scalding, fanning across his back with vengeance. But it was vengeance that he felt he deserved.
“Why?” His eyes closed, remembering how hard you were trying to keep yourself together despite the obvious pain that was plaguing your small body. The way your lip had quivered and the way your arms had protectively wrapped around your stomach when you looked up at him. “Why can’t you ever just tell me what’s going on with you?”
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to.
God, he wanted to. To open up. To tell you all of the fucked-up things that went on in his head. To voice his insecurities so that maybe they’d finally stop repeating on the same never-ending loop that they had been stuck on his whole life. To tell you that he didn’t think he was enough. To tell you that he was scared to lose you. That it was something he thought about nearly every day.
But it wasn’t that easy. He was only capable of doing what he knew, and he had absolutely no fucking idea how to deal with his own vulnerability. Let alone express it in a way that wasn't damaging to both of you.
Being raised by Toji had been like taking a master class in emotional avoidance and Megumi was very much his father’s prodigy.
He knew how to argue. He knew how to deflect. He knew how to win a fight. He knew how to manipulate a conversation so that he never had to say more than he wanted to. And he didn’t just know how to do these things, he excelled at them.
It was why he had always been so reserved. It was why he’d beat up all those kids in middle school just for looking at him. It was why at 21, rather than saying “I’m sorry” to resolve an ongoing issue with his girlfriend, he’d opted for, “Then fucking leave" instead.
He stepped out of the shower with red welts decorating his back and sweat dripping down his face. He wiped the steam away from the mirror to reveal blood-shot eyes as he wrapped a towel around his waist. His midnight hair was unusually straight and flat, pressed loosely against his forehead.
He let out an exhale, trading in his introspection for detachment when he heard the bathroom door open.
You observed him quietly, noting his reddened skin and his apparent discomfort at seeing you.
Your head tilted slightly, looking over his clenched jaw and the way his shoulders never truly relaxed. It hurt to see him and it hurt even worse to not see him, but as he stared back at you through hooded eyes, you realized that you had wasted so much time searching for softness in a place you’d never find it.
Megumi Fushiguro was beautifully broken. An intricate stained-glass mural that had been shattered by undeserving hands. Mesmerizing to look at but much too rigid to touch. And though he shined perfectly in the right lighting, your mangled fingertips were begging you to finally put the pieces down.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“It’s nothing...” You shook your head, taking in his sharp edges for what you assumed would be the last time. “You just look like him… that’s all.”
His chest tightened, a rare, visible crack forming in his usual cold demeanor as he stared back at you. He’d been able to avoid everything he didn’t want to deal with in life, everything – until he met you.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
A pint of whiskey loomed back at him from his nightstand as he ran a hand through his spiked hair, lethargically watching the ceiling fan spin above him.
His vision was hazy, his body tired from training all day. He wanted to sleep. Wanted to close his eyes and drift off for a few hours, but he knew his mind wasn’t going to grant him that mercy.
So, he drank.
Light rain tapped against his window as he held the bottle to his lips, letting a comforting burn travel down his throat while he pulled his phone out from under his pillow.
You had become a ghost in his life after that morning. A memory that he kept buried so far down, he’d almost partially convinced himself that you were actually gone. You were a late-night whisper that he’d ignore. A song on the radio that he’d immediately turn off. A stabbing, fleeting thought he’d learned to block out on his way home from work.
He had given up going to his favorite restaurants and shops in fear that you might be there. He had cut all ties with Nobara since you guys were so close, not wanting to hear anything about you. He had isolated himself to work and his apartment, not allowing himself the chance to accidentally bump into you.
He’d taken so many precautions. Did everything he possibly could to not see you. And yet, he was gradually starting to realize that maybe it’d all been in vain. That even with how much his life had changed, he was still somehow doing the exact same thing he’d done when he was with you.
After all this time, he was still running.
With one last swig, he finished off his pint and grabbed his phone again, not allotting himself enough time to backpedal.
Dialing your number was like muscle memory even with how long it'd been since he'd done it. He wasn't sure what he was going to say if you answered. He definitely wasn't sure what he was going to say tomorrow if you didn't answer. All he knew was that he was finally done avoiding you.
“Megumi…?” your voice was warm, familiar, static against his ear.
“You’re up late.”
There was a pause followed by a reluctant, “Yeah… so are you.”
He mentally kicked himself as an unsure silence settled between the two of you. He had so many things he needed to say but quickly realized that he couldn’t say any of them now that he was here.
His feelings were heavy and important and way too repressed to be spilled out over a late-night phone call. “I know it’s raining, and whatever but…” He cleared his throat. “Are you busy…?”
“Right now?” He couldn’t help but smirk at your snarky, half-hearted laugh. “I mean, it’s 1:30 in the morning. So, no. Not really.”
“Good. Come over.”
“Wait a minute, you can’t just –”
But he already had.
He ended the call, abruptly cutting off your flimsy attempt at protesting him before sending you a text with his address and standing up to dig a black t-shirt out of his closet.
His apartment was damn near spotless aside from some empty whiskey bottles littering his nightstand, but he still made compulsive laps back and forth from his bedroom to his kitchen as he threw them away and cracked a couple of windows open to let some fresh air in. It was an odd feeling, knowing that you were going to be standing in the one place that didn’t remind him of you.
He checked his phone while heading into the bathroom. You hadn't said anything, but he knew you well enough to know that you were probably only minutes away by now.
He ran contemplative fingers through his hair, making sure each spike was pointed and curled up to his satisfaction. He hated to admit it, but your words had been haunting his reflection since the morning they left your mouth. He had become painfully aware of how much his eyes, his mannerisms, his facial structure all resembled the man he didn't want to become.
His past may have already been accounted for but as he heard the knock at his front door, he finally began to see something different in the mirror that once taunted him. He watched his stare soften and his shoulders loosen. He noted how much tension his body had let go of at just the thought of you. He was about to let his guard down in the biggest way possible and instead of having a visceral reaction, he felt ready.
With one last glance at himself, he let out a decisive breath and headed down the hall. The future was in his hands and even if he did have his father's features, he knew his grasp was much steadier.
You were in an oversized grey hoodie with your hair thrown into a loose side-bun, your shorts just barely visible and your skin damp from the rain.
Neither one of you said anything, both too busy studying the person in front of you to bother with words. Your eyes trailed over him with warranted skepticism, an internal battle between logic and emotion arising the longer you looked at him.
He could see it; he could feel it - the way you wanted to trust him but couldn't.
"You came." he finally said, his voice gentler than you remembered it being.
You shrugged, almost embarrassed by your own honesty.
"You called."
The two of you exchanged the same somber smile before he nodded for you to follow him.
The smell of his cologne mixed with spring air swirled around you as you walked into his room. His walls were covered in art - framed line work, oil paintings, black and grey portraits. Everything was strategically placed and organized. His bed made neatly with white sheets and a black duvet. It was all very him.
He leaned against the wall in front of you as you took a seat on the edge of his mattress.
“How’ve you been?”
It should've been an easy question and under different circumstances, it probably would've been.
But it was late and you were on his bed and he looked beautiful and you wished he didn't and the weight of the situation was suddenly hitting you all at once.
“I've been alright.” You lied, repositioning yourself. "Just busy with classes and stuff. What about you...?"
He watched the way your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your shorts. The way you shifted your weight as you dangled one leg off of the bed and held the other against your chest.
“Quit.”
You paused, your gaze reluctantly returning to his. “Quit what?”
“Being nervous.” He pushed himself away from the wall and sat down next to you, heeding his own advice. “I just have some stuff I need to say, that's all."
You gave him a slow nod, letting go of the loose piece of thread.
His legs were spread slightly, his elbows resting on his thighs and his chin in his hands as he looked over at you. "You were right."
He had officially gained your attention with that one simple admission.
"I do need to open up more, it's just -" He took a breath, determination flickering through his eyes. "It's just fucking hard, you know? But that's not an excuse. I'm sorry. Truly. I'm sorry for everything I did to you while we were together. I should've said it the last time I saw you. I should've said it months before that. I should've just said it at least a hundred times. But I didn't, so I'm saying it now." His hand was warm as he carefully reached for yours. "I shouldn't have shut you out like I did. You're... the one person I never wanted to push away... I love you."
It felt as though all of the oxygen had been stripped from the room, your heart forgetting how to beat while you looked back at him in awe. Your thoughts were everywhere. The war of logic versus emotion still violently raging on.
His fingers laced into yours and you let them. His grasp felt safe and secure. His eyes were full of a sense of patience and vulnerability that you didn't think you'd ever seen before.
"Don't let him do this to you again." Nobara had warned you on your drive over here. "He might care about you. Hell, he might even really love you, but he doesn't know how and you can't keep making that your problem over and over again. It's not fair."
"Look..." Your breathing was uneven, your voice giving away your internal struggle no matter how hard you tried to conceal it. "I forgive you, but we... can't. I mean, we can't just keep doing this over and over. It's... not fair." It had held so much more conviction when it came from your best friend, but it was the best you could manage.
His hand disappeared from yours, wandering up to your cheek to catch tears that you didn't even realize had fallen. "Okay..." he conceded.
His tone was despondent, but his touch was soft. Light fingertips glided along your jawline, his face only centimeters apart from yours. "Then we won't."
"We won't." You repeated back to him, trying desperately to ignore the way his exhale fanned felicitously across your lips.
"Because..." You swallowed hard, watching his gaze drift carefully across your face. "We shouldn't."
He shook his head in agreement. "Absolutely shouldn't." He whispered, his hand trailing up to the back of your neck.
"And..." Emotion was putting up the fight of its life, your pupils widening as you stared back at him. "I deserve better."
"So much better." he echoed, leaning in closer, his mouth just barely grazing yours. "You deserve the fucking world."
Your body was betraying every bit of your sentiment, your breath hitching in your throat while his fingers tangled into your hair. "Megumi... you can't..."
"I'm not." his voice was like honey, his lips still ghosting yours. "All you have to do is pull away." His other hand began to slide delicately up your thigh, making it nearly impossible to focus on anything else. "Pull away and I'll walk you back to your car. We'll act like none of this ever happened."
"Megumi, please." It was a whimper. A pathetic plea that held no real merit. You weren't sure if you were begging for him to touch you or not touch you.
"I won't call you again. Won't see you again." His nails began to dig into the tenderness your inner thigh, his eyes still locked fiercely with yours. "I'll leave you alone for good this time... That's what you want, right?"
Wetness seeped between your legs as he kept on toying with the opening of your shorts. The warmth of his hand so infuriatingly close to where you wanted it and where it shouldn't be. Your already weak resolve was crumbling.
"Tell me to stop."
His forehead pressed against yours, opposite hand still holding your neck in place. "Tell me." He tried again, but all of your words had been stolen by the feeling of his palm roaming up towards your center.
With only a thin layer of fabric separating his fingers from you, he slowly began to spread you apart. If he hadn't been able to see your desperation before, he could certainly feel it now.
He watched every last bit of composure you had vanish as he started to draw soft, heavenly circles around your clit. Drowning in the little yelps and whines that you were trying so hard to bite back.
"Tell me to fucking stop."
There was suddenly no logic left in your brain. No one in control. No way to fight the way he was making you feel. You were a needy, pining mess and your body was practically groveling for him.
You finally let your lips catch his, shamelessly moaning against him while his grip tightened in your hair. "Don't -" You let out between heady breaths. "Don't stop. Please don't ever stop."
You were lost somewhere between his feral ocean eyes and the way his tongue swirled around yours.
He pulled the fabric to the side, plunging two unexpected fingers inside of you, smirking at the surprised squeal it'd gained him.
"Oh, that's my girl." He groaned, watching your eyes double in size.
Your walls were swallowing him, clenching around him shamelessly while more uncontrollable noises filled the room.
His thumb brushed against your clit, rubbing back and forth with precision as his fingers continued to slam into you. The three of them working together in perfect synchronicity. "There you go, that’s it.”
It had been so long. You knew it wouldn't take much, but you still felt pathetic when you realized you were already there. "Megumi- 'm -"
It almost caught both of you off guard how little it took. Your eyes snapped shut, your bottom lip lodged between your teeth as you soaked him. Your hips were thrusting, your pussy unapologetically dripping all over his hand while you mewled and writhed against him.
"Poor thing. Has it really been that long?"
It was somehow sweet, the way he mocked you.
His movements became more urgent, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you to your feet so that he could help you out of your clothes. Your hoodie went first, your nipples hardening as you stood in front of him.
"So fucking pretty." He praised, still sitting on the edge of the bed. His hands were warm against your waist, tugging off your shorts and underwear in one swift motion, admiring the shiny slick glistening off of your cunt.
He took a moment to look you over, quietly memorizing every inch before his own pants were tossed aside.
Your legs straddled him as he guided you on top of him, his hands placed firmly on your hips. You drew in a shallow breath, watching him rub his tip against you, wetting himself with your cum before lining his cock up with your entrance.
You slowly lowered yourself onto him, basking in that familiar, heavenly stretch he always provided you with.
“Fuuuck.”
You weren’t sure which one of you had said it, too drunk off of the way he filled you to care.
His hands were still guiding you. Uppp and dowwwnnn, not quite letting you take the full thing just yet but still giving you plenty to keep you satisfied.
You watched his reaction to the way you rode him, smiled when you noticed his eyes starting to roll back. You were grinding against him, drawing out the prettiest sounds from him with your hands clasped behind his neck.
“You’re s’fucking…” he grunted, his words suddenly harder to get out. “tight… Jesus Christ, baby. You really didn’t fuck anyone else for 4 months, did you?”
It wasn’t like you had been trying to hide it, but it was still irritating that your body sold you out before you even had the chance to have that conversation with him.
You shook your head sheepishly, a faint warmth decorating your cheeks. “Didn’t -” he was pulling you down further this time, purposefully going deeper as he watched you struggle to form a proper setence. “Didn’t - want… t- to…”
“Didn’t want anyone else inside of you, huh?” His tone was breathy, condescending almost as he continued to maneuver you to his liking. “Didn’t want anyone else to fill up this tight fucking cunt besides me, is that it baby?”
You shook your head again, this time a bit more feverishly while he continued to force your weight down onto him. Your ass now smacking against his thighs with each pump into you.
“I -” you moaned, unable to hold it together the further down you went. “I just want you. O - only you.”
He kissed you, his tongue gently parting your lips as he slowly eased you down onto his length. “I love you.” He whispered.
You tried to say it back but it was lost entirely by the way he thrusted upward without warning and slammed every last blissful inch of himself into you.
Your eyebrows knitted together, your mouth dropping open at the feeling of his tip hitting your cervix. You were a dizzy, pouty, leaky mess, looking at him with stars in your eyes as he smirked back at you. "You’re okay, baby. You can take it.”
He had you tilted at just the right angle, lined up beautifully with your g-spot. You were taking in all you could, hips hungrily rocking back and forth against him.
"You're doing so good. Just like that."
You were practically delirious, already teetering on the verge of climax when his thumb found your clit again, creating more featherlight circles and more delicious, hopeless yelps from you.
"Megumi," his name practically echoed across the room, your walls starting to smother him. "I - fuck, baby ‘m -" You tried to bury your face into his shoulder, but he wouldn't let you. His free hand was quickly under your chin, forcing your attention back on him.
"Look at me." his voice was low but thoughtful, his fingers still working relentlessly against you. "Let me fucking see it."
It was enough to break you. To have you suddenly spasming around him as you soaked him. He didn’t stop though no matter how much you squirmed against him. No matter how incredibly loud your cries became. He continued to stretch you, bullying himself into you while still teasing your clit until you were both absolutely shaking.
His lips crashed into yours, hand tangled back into your hair when you felt him start to twitch inside you, filling you up as he groaned against your mouth.
“I love you.” You whispered this time, earning an exhausted smile from him.
He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, admiring the mess he’d made out of you before kissing you again, lavishly this time as he wrapped his arms around your waist.
It was all so natural, so right. As if no time had passed at all between you two. And maybe you were biased because of where you were currently sitting, but his once rough edges looked pretty smooth from this angle.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
857 notes · View notes
tar-antula-juice · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
TIDBIT OF AFTERMATH IF ME AND @demelly RES EVIL AU [NOT CANON]
806 notes · View notes
iiseor · 2 months
Text
⋆𐙚 ₊ summer strikes . . . (1)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
synopsis: forced by joel to spend the summer in a small town consequent her agreement to get sober—ellie's acceptance towards the situation grows significantly the moment you cross paths.
cw: alcohol/drugs, mentalhealth issues, ellie is not Joel's daughter in this AU, she just stays with him for context! word count : 1.9k. Tags: @boobdrug @seraphicsentences @amberputh sorry this is short . . i didn't wanna wait any longer to upload it. Next part will be longer . . . master list
Tumblr media
" i don't understand why this was your first option?" ellie huffed as she planted her bags in the back of Joel's truck. "It's what's best for you" he replied, slamming the door as he got inside — ellie following. "Yea whatever" she scoffed.
For ellie days had been longer, the nights nearly decades, trailing behind her filled with nothing but misery. She had been locked inside for weeks, terrified of breaking her promise to joel.
the promise that she'd get sober. Straighten up and stop self sabotaging. Fix everything, stop acting out, become an adult and do good. She knew the consequences, she knew how he'd look at her if things got even worse. So she did her best, locked herself away from anything and everything that could possibly make her relapse.
But to joel, that was even worse.
His soloution? Taking her to an entirely different places to stay with his cousins family.
In a small, quiet town where she couldn't.
possibly be tempted to do bad.
Right?
.
The road trip was hours, tho felt like minutes for ellie who was asleep for nearly the entire ride, only waking up right before joel had pulled in the driveway. Which happened to be more than enough time for her to take in the beautiful scenery — and beaming sun.
"Miller!! Long time no see" the brown haired man yelled from the drive way as Joel pulled in.
ellie was stunned by the view ahead of her, a beautiful—yet typical country house surrounded by acres of trees, bushes and green grass, accompanied by a small barn, the lake only meters away.
both stepping out of the car, Joel greeted your father in an instant. The two brothers sharing a hug while Ellie breathed in the crisp air. For her, it felt like this was the first time she breathed freshly in years—soaked in sunlight opposed to narcotics, scents of salted ocean water and oak filling her senses.
"Someone's gotten taller" tommy motioned to ellie, her head still facing the clouds before she slowly came back to reality.
"Ready to check out the place kid?" He added, patting her on the back as Joel lifted the final bags out of the truck and put them on the pavement for Tommy to grab. "Sounds good.." Ellie sighed out in response, picking up whatever bags she could to carry inside. "Now holdon" Joel called out
"make sure you behave, and no going against old man's rules. He'll keep u in check while I'm gone, but just a reminder" he said pulling her into a hug. "Yeah yeah I got it" Ellie said pushing him away and following inside.
"See you later" they both called and waved as Joel hopped back in the truck.
and that was it for ellie.
the end of something, the start of another.
from the start, and all over again.
she had one last chance to get better.
.
Tommy sighed as he sat the last of Ellie's bags down on the living room floor, brushing his hands off and placing them on his hips—Ellie standing awkwardly like a confused puppy. "Welp, there's not much to the living room or kitchen... pretty generic... um, take a quick look around if you'd like and ill get these bags to your room" ellie was about to open hee mouth, protest that she could carry them up herself—but before she could, Tommy was already yelling up the stairs.
"Y/n can you come help me?" He called out. Y/n... Joel didn't mention there would be more company..
your foot steps marched quickly down the stairs, skipping a step on the way down.
Paint stained overalls flashed the girls eyes as you stood before her, paint brushes still in hand as you hoped off the final step.
"Oh hi Ellie" you spoke, so sweet and soft—flashing a smile.
she knows my name, how does she know my name ? ellies mind spun between the vision of you and the words you spoke.. already driving her crazy.
"H... hey" she choked out, almost jumping back as you stepped closer to her, holding your hand out for her to her grab onto.
you stared at her with a smile for a minute while she looked back at you like a deer caught in the headlights. For a moment, she was completely frozen—only for seconds before you picked up her hand and shook it for urself, smiling through the process and breaking her still shape, your touch sending sparks through her body.. "Nice to meet you" "I'll help you take these upstrairs!" You said, letting go of her hand picking up two of the bags and walking past her to go back upstairs, ellie still half in her day dream doing the same.
"Here it is!" You told, placing her bags inside and stepping out of the way so she could do the same. In front of her was four empty walls and bed framed mattress, "I took everything down, I figured you'd wanna decorate it your own way" you said with that soft smile again. "Yeah... thank you" she said forcing a smile back.
It's not like she wasn't thankful , of course she was. How couldn't she be when you were so fucking sweet to her already? she was so love struck she didn't know how to smile genuinely, or think of anything besides how good you looked—despite being caught of gaurd by her quick arrival. "Ill let you settle in" you spoke, breaking the awkward silence, "the closet is over there for your clothes and if you need any extra storage bins my dad can bring them up" you added. "if you need any help let me know!" knodding at her, you walked away.
.
Ellie's body ached as she looked around the vacent room, feelings sunk into her body and whithered throughout her veins 'I promised Joel' was all she could think of 'this is my last chance' she whispered to herself. Staying here with you and tommy wasnt the thing killing her inside, not in the slightest. it was the ringing notion in the back of her head that continuously told her to start again, to drink again, ruin everything and go back to her old ways, that made her want to tear everything apart.
for now, all she knew is that she had to build willpower. She couldn't let herself get worse. Not in front of tommy, not in front of you... not under the promises she made with Joel.
knock knock
"You good In here girl?" Tommy's voice broke hee out of a second trance and made her jump, turning to see the man just above her eyes. "Didn't mean to scare ya" he chuckled moving into the room, "its alright..." she breathed out. The room fell silent for a few moments, Tommy picking up a few of ellies things now scattered throughout the floor and putting them away for her. "This used to be Joel's room you know... before he was a grown ass man" he laughed, Ellie pushing a smile. "But I'm glad you have him and he has you, I can tell he wants what's best for you and I'm sure you'll find it while here" looking around the room he added, "Come down for dinner when your done, yeah?"
"Yeah" she agreed, tommy walking away while ellie turned her gaze towards the crystalline window, sun beaming onto her warm freckles.
One last chance she repeated.
.
Ellie only took an hour to finish her room, about the same amount of time it took tommy and you to finish cooking. She didn't bring much to decorate. some old band posters joel had gifted, her comic books, her journal and her guitar. The important things in her mind. She paced back and fourth throughout her room for almost ten minutes out of the hour she set up, staring at herself in her bathrooms body length mirror for another ten before building up the courage to face dinner.
"Done already?" Tommy questioned as Ellie made her way towards the kitchen, her eyes scanning and spotting you setting up the table. "Uh yeah" she replied standing awkwardly, Tommy's eyes faced her with confusion. "You can sit down you know, make urself at home"
"Right..." she replied again, sitting down at the table you had finished placing silverware on. "You like fish right? Joel didn't tell me any dietary preferences or anything so I tried to keep it simple for tonight" tommy smiled setting a plate of freshly cooked salmon, vegetables and rice down in front of ellie—and you who had joined her at the table.
To be honest, Ellie hadn't had a real cooked meal in months. Between the alcohol, and just overly terrible diet, salmon and rice sounded like a luxury to her. Let alone vegetables.
"This is good .... thank you" she told, not hesitating to taste everything in front of her.
Tommy sat down in between you two, the three way table being jsut enough space, you all silently eating till a thought popped into your head. "Oh! Ellie, have you seen the lake yet??" You questioned, Ellie giving you that dear caught glance again—Quickly clearing her throat before stuttering out. "Oh um .. kind of... I caught a glimpse of it" she replied, trying to contain the sudden shivers that went down hee body as you spoke to her. "Oh ! Well that's not good enough... its truly beautiful out there, especially when the weather is nice ! we should go fishing tomorrow, then you can see it for yourself" you rambled on, Tommy subtly knodding his head in agreement before swallowing his food and given a spoken one, "I agree, it'll be good for you girls to get to know eachother now" he spoke.
ellie—not against the idea ... more so embarrassed over her next words. "I um.... i don't know how to fish" she said lowering her head to her plate. "Joel never taught you?" You questioned. "No" was all she responded, slightly meeting your gaze, noticing tommy's semi shocked expression in the corner of her eye. You hummed for a minute, taking another bite of your food and a sip of your drink.
"It's okay then, you have me now! I'm probably better than him anyways" you laughed in response, Tommy laughing along as he stood up, gathering all of your now empty plates and dragging them to the sink.
Ellie stood up to follow him, but before she could touch a dish tommy stopped her "Don't worry about it kid, I got it, you go settle in" he patted her on the back setting her off—you already making your way up the stairs, though not fast enough to miss ellie before she got to her room. "Goodnight ellie !" You waved as you walked towards your door, ellie caught off gaurd by you once again and nearly stumbling into her room. "Night" she called back awkwardly, just awkwardly enough to make you frown in confusion by her lack of energy returned. Unknown to you, she was already slapping her hand on her face for how stupid her response sounded as she closed her door and sat on her bed.
As she layed away, thoughts poring into the moon lit night as crickets cherped outside her window, her wondering mind kept replaying the sound of your words in her head. "You have me now".
That sentence ... your words ...
she has you now .. even if you didn't mean it the way she thought, even if it was an empty statement. Somebody thought she had them ... she has people.
she has another chance to make it all right.
425 notes · View notes
edenesth · 2 months
Text
The Way to His Heart [18]
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 3.7k
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Part 17 | Fic Masterlist | Part 19
Tumblr media
Despite the blurring of his vision, Seonghwa desperately stumbled towards the entrance of his estate. He needed to get out of there as quickly as possible. If anyone noticed his severe wound, it would only be a matter of time before you found out too.
That was the last thing he wanted.
He had tried so hard to hide his injury from you, not wanting to cause you any more worry. Perhaps having Yeosang pursuing you wasn't such a bad thing after all. Unlike the general, the prince wouldn't have to leave for war and risk his life. His Highness also wouldn't have the burden of blood on his hands or the constant fear he instilled in you.
Most importantly, the fourth prince wasn't on the brink of death, bleeding out at this very moment. Prince Yeosang could consistently remain by your side, offering a life even more luxurious than this. Though it pained him to think about leaving you to another man's care, Seonghwa convinced himself that this was all for the best.
His gaze locked on his horse, still waiting by the entrance, servants tending to it. He was determined to ride back to the warzone, if he could survive the journey—or anywhere else, for that matter. He understood that you wouldn't be able to bear seeing him in such a state, regardless of the cruel words he'd uttered just moments ago.
That was the kind of angel you were.
From the beginning, he recognised your heart of gold. It was what endeared you to him so deeply; you were unique in that way. Despite the torture your family had subjected you to, he knew you would never wish ill upon them regardless.
This was all the more reason he couldn't allow you to discover his injury. He knew without a doubt that your heart would soften instantly and forgive him for all he had done. He couldn't afford that; he needed you to despise him. Only then would his absence hurt less, and perhaps, it would steer you toward the prince. You deserved far better than anything he could offer. Despite facing his own mortality, nothing frightened him more than the uncertainty of your well-being in the world he was about to depart from, leaving you behind.
"Master, are you departing so soon?" The servant, looking after the horse, was taken aback by his master's abrupt decision to leave. Everyone had anticipated him staying at least a day to resolve matters with the mistress and spend some time together before returning to the war site.
Seonghwa nodded, striving to maintain his composure, "Yes, assist me onto the horse. I'm needed back at the warzone."
Observing the general's slightly pale and sweaty visage, the servant refrained from commenting on it for fear of angering him. Instead, he bowed, "Of course, master."
But before your husband could even mount his horse, the last person he wanted to encounter at that moment called out to him from behind, "Yah, Park Seonghwa! How dare you try and leave without even saying hello?" He froze at Hongjoong's loud voice, a shiver of apprehension running through him as he glanced back to see his old friend, accompanied by Wooyoung, approaching, "Sir, are you really leaving already?"
Goddamnit, so close.
Meanwhile, across the estate, Yunho and Jongho hurried towards the House of Lotus, only to discover you all alone and heartbroken on the ground. The assistant gasped, rushing to help you up, "Mistress! Are you alright? Where's the general?"
Gazing up at him with tears streaking your cheeks, your heart ached at the mention of Seonghwa. Noticing the physician beside Jongho, eyes darting around urgently, you frowned in confusion, "He left not long ago... What's happening? What's wrong?"
You had remained motionless since your husband's departure, sprawled on the ground with tears streaming down your face as you struggled to comprehend the sudden change in his behaviour. Why was he treating you like this? Could there be any truth to his harsh words? Had he already grown tired of you? Just when you thought your anguish couldn't intensify, the anxiety evident on the assistant's and doctor's faces only heightened your dread.
"He left?! I'm sorry, mistress! There's no time to explain. Here, read this, and you'll understand." Jongho exclaimed urgently. Yunho dashed out as soon as he heard your words, prompting the younger man to swiftly shove a crumpled piece of paper into your hands before hurrying after the physician.
As you hastily wiped your tears, your trembling fingers unfolded the crumpled paper to reveal a letter from General Officer Song Mingi addressed to the doctor. Your heart sank to your stomach as you read the hurriedly written words.
'Physician Jung, I hope this letter finds you swiftly, for it bears urgent news concerning General Park. In the recent battle with the enemy forces, he sustained a grave injury inflicted by a weapon laced with viper venom. Upon discovering the nature of the toxin, we immediately recognised the severity of the situation. The venom acts swiftly and ruthlessly, spreading its deadly effects throughout the body if not treated promptly. Time is of the essence. I implore you to attend to the general without delay.'
Letting out a shaky exhale, the letter slipped from your trembling fingers and fell to the ground, the weight of its contents settling heavily in your chest. Every word echoed in your mind, painting a vivid picture of Seonghwa's dire situation. It felt as if the pieces of a puzzle were falling into place, revealing a truth you hadn't dared to consider before. Had he been in immense pain this entire time?
The thought sent a chill down your spine.
Was it possible that your husband's sudden shift in behaviour, his departure, and harsh words, were all a desperate attempt to protect you from the truth? Was he afraid to burden you with the knowledge of his injury, to face your worry and concern?
Park Seonghwa, you bloody idiot.
Your heart ached at the possibility. Despite the hurtful words he said to you, a wave of empathy washed over you, mingling with the fear and uncertainty swirling within.
With determination fueling every step, you left your quarters in search of the general, resolved to stand by him regardless of the obstacles ahead. Your love for him was unwavering, and you were prepared to fight for him with every fibre of your being. He was mistaken if he thought his attempts to push you away would succeed. You refused to leave his side without a fight.
As you arrived in the main courtyard, your heart lurched at the sight before you. Jongho and Wooyoung were scrambling to hold up your husband, who appeared unconscious, while Hongjoong and Yunho guided them past you, heading towards what you presumed to be Seonghwa's private quarters. Their apologetic glances only added to your distress as you stepped aside to let them pass, your eyes growing wet at the sight of his pale and weakened appearance—something you had never witnessed before.
A wave of fear washed over you as you watched him being ushered away, threatening to consume you whole. The possibility of losing him suddenly felt all too real, and you couldn't bear the thought of a world without him in it.
Regret flooded your mind as you chastised yourself for not being more perceptive to his suffering earlier. How could you have let your emotions cloud your judgement? How could you have missed the signs that he was in such pain? You should have known, should have realised that he was going through something. You should have known that there must have been a good reason for his actions, for his attempts to push you away.
Deep down, you knew that he loved you just as much as you loved him, and there had to be a greater purpose behind his actions. All you could do now was have faith in his love and pray for his recovery.
The head maid rushed to your side, her face etched with concern, as she gently steadied you by holding onto your shoulders. You hadn't realised you were swaying until then, your head buried in your hands, "Come, mistress," She said softly, "Let's return to the House of Lotus and wait for good news. The master is in capable hands with Physician Jung. Everything will be alright."
You shook your head, voicing your protest, "But Eunsook, I need to be close to him—"
She smiled gently, squeezing your hands, "I know you do. But you wouldn't want to get in the way, would you? Let the others handle things for now, alright? Master will be just fine; he's much stronger than you think."
With a heavy sigh, you finally nodded in defeat and allowed her to guide you back to your quarters, realising she was right. You wouldn't be of any help to the guys, and it was better to stay out of their way while they worked to treat him at this critical moment.
Please, Yunho. I'm counting on you.
"Jongho, I need you to gather as much echinacea herb as possible from around town. It's the most effective plant for treating venom and relieving pain." The doctor urgently ordered, focusing on removing the layers of clothing from the general.
The assistant bowed, "Yes, Physician Jung!" before swiftly departing with Wooyoung, who had volunteered to assist.
Hongjoong stayed behind to help out, though he struggled to conceal his worry. His hands trembled as he observed the blood staining Seonghwa's clothes and noted the general's pale complexion as he lay almost lifelessly on the bed.
Noticing the dressmaker's distress, Yunho attempted to divert his attention, "So, where's the mistress?"
Clearing his throat to dispel the growing lump, the older man responded with a strained voice, "The last I saw, Eunsook took her back to the House of Lotus."
The doctor nodded, mustering a smile, "Good, it's best she doesn't see him like this. Now, hyung, I need you to focus and keep your emotions in check. Can you do that?"
Blinking rapidly, Hongjoong straightened up, determined to shake off the previous scene. Seonghwa had passed out shortly after spotting him and Wooyoung, halting any attempt to mount his horse. The surge of fear the dressmaker felt then was beyond words. But now, he knew he had to concentrate. Hearing Yunho use "hyung" after so long was grounding, a reminder that emotions had no place in their current situation. He nodded resolutely, "Of course. Just tell me what to do."
Together, they swiftly removed the general's bloodied clothes and tended to his wound, expecting a deep gash but finding only a surface graze. They were puzzled by the discrepancy between the amount of blood and the minor injury. Fortunately, it seemed the venom hadn't spread far; the discolouration was limited to the immediate area around the wound.
The physician concluded that Seonghwa's loss of consciousness was likely due to exhaustion and lack of proper treatment rather than the severity of the injury itself. With the herb they were gathering, he should recover fully in a few weeks.
Right on cue, Jongho and Wooyoung arrived back at the estate, slightly out of breath but carrying an abundance of echinacea as requested by Yunho. Without delay, the group of servants assigned to the doctor immediately sprang into action, following his instructions diligently. They divided the batch of herbs in half: one portion was prepared into a paste for external use, while the other was transformed into a tonic for consumption. With both methods employed, they were confident they could expel all traces of the venom from the general's system in no time.
As the first batch of medication was prepared within a few hours, the team of staff assisted Yunho with applying the paste over Seonghwa's wound and feeding him the tonic. They breathed a collective sigh of relief when they saw his condition stabilise. Hongjoong felt a weight lift off his shoulders as he watched the colour gradually return to his friend's face.
Turning to Jongho, the dressmaker spoke, "Go on and fetch the mistress. She must be worried sick about him."
With an enthusiastic bow, the assistant hurried off to find you after receiving an approving nod from the physician, signalling that it was safe for you to visit your husband. When he arrived at your quarters, he found you pacing anxiously. Your steps halted abruptly when he called out, "Mistress!"
You held your breath until the younger man broke into a wide smile, "He's okay. You can go see him now."
A wave of relief washed over you, melting away the fear that had gripped your heart just moments ago. A small part of you had prepared for the worst, imagining a world without Seonghwa by your side, and the thought left you feeling utterly lost and alone. The prospect of becoming a widow, of navigating life without the man who had brought so much happiness into your world, was almost unbearable.
So when Jongho appeared in a rush, your heart leapt into your throat with fear. But as he delivered the news of the general's recovery, you couldn't contain the flood of emotions that overwhelmed you. Tears of relief streamed down your cheeks as you thanked the assistant.
With a reassuring smile, the younger man gently led you towards your husband, guiding you to the one person who had always been your anchor in the storm.
As you approached Seonghwa's quarters, your heart raced with a mix of anticipation and trepidation. The memory of your last encounter with him lingered in your mind, casting a shadow of uncertainty over your thoughts. What if he didn't want to see you? What if his harsh words were a reflection of his true feelings, and he had truly grown tired of your presence?
However, anger also simmered beneath the surface as you contemplated the possibility. How dare he speak to you in such a manner, dismissing your feelings and calling you troublesome? The hurt of his words slowly gave way to indignation as you recalled the promise he had made to protect you from disrespect. Yet, he had been the one to wound you with his callous remarks.
Entering the room, you temporarily pushed aside the whirlwind of emotions that had consumed you moments before. Your eyes immediately sought out your husband's still unconscious figure lying on the bed, and all other thoughts faded into the background.
Yunho moved aside respectfully to allow you a clear view, bowing in acknowledgement before addressing you, "Ah, Lady Park, you're here. Well then, I'll leave the general to your care for now. I should probably go and write back to General Officer Song to update him on his superior's status."
You nodded gratefully, offering him a warm smile, "Thank you so much for all your hard work, Physician Jung."
He shook his head modestly, returning your smile, "Please don't mention it, my lady. I'm just doing my job. We've given him the first batch of medication so far, and thankfully, his body is responding well to it. I plan to administer this to him daily. I'm confident he should be fully recovered in a few weeks."
Sitting beside Seonghwa on the bed, watching him peacefully asleep, tears welled in your eyes. His chest rose and fell steadily, a reassuring sign that he was still alive, still with you. It felt almost like déjà vu, reminiscent of the moment when he had first discovered your scars, except back then, it was you who lay on the bed.
With a trembling hand, you reached out toward his face, longing to touch him, to reassure yourself that he was truly okay. But before your fingertips could make contact, his combat reflexes kicked in, and he startled you by grabbing your wrist tightly, his eyes snapping open in alarm. As recognition dawned on his face, he relaxed his grip, softening at the sight of you.
"It's you..."
His reaction, though simple, was more than enough to convince you that he still felt the same for you. Instant relief filled your being, realising that all your previous worries about him growing tired of you were for nothing. You should have known better than to doubt his feelings for you.
After a moment, as if recalling your earlier exchange, he released your hand and turned away, attempting to maintain a stoic expression, "What are you still doing here? Aren't you angry with me?"
You scoffed, withdrawing your hand and crossing your arms over your chest, "How long do you plan to keep up this facade? Wasn't it enough that you said those hurtful things to me earlier? Calling me a burden and suggesting I leave you for another man."
At that, Hongjoong and Wooyoung interjected, reminding you both of their presence. The dressmaker shot up from his seat, his expression a mix of shock and anger, "He said what?! Park Seonghwa, you'd better have a damn good explanation, or I swear I'll knock some sense into you again—"
The private investigator quickly intervened, slapping a hand over the older man's mouth and offering a sheepish smile to you and the general, "Oh gosh, I apologise for him. We'll step outside to give you both some privacy to talk things over."
Once you were alone, your husband sighed heavily before sitting up, stubbornly dismissing your attempt to help him, "Listen, I meant what I said. Perhaps considering Prince Yeosang would be beneficial for you. You want happiness, don't you? You'd find it with a husband who doesn't have to leave, risking his life in wars. Someone who isn't stained with blood, someone who isn't a complete monster. It's for the best."
Your fists clenched as you glared at him, "Who are you to dictate what's best for me, General Park? You said it yourself, I'm my own person now, capable of making my own choices. I can do what I want and love who I want. Shouldn't that be left up to me?"
When he remained silent and continued to avoid your gaze, you pressed on, "And yes, I do want happiness. But how can I find it if I'm not with the man I love?"
At that, you sensed his resolve faltering.
Sighing, you reached over to cover his hand with yours, "There, I've said it. I love you, you moron. I don't want anyone else but you. Why is that so hard to understand? I don't care about what you've done to those people who call themselves my family; they deserved it, and I've forgiven you for it. I just... all I wanted was the truth and an apology from you. Instead, all you've given me were hurtful words. But I understand now. You were just scared, weren't you?"
Your heart fell when he still refused to meet your gaze, "Or was I mistaken? Did you truly mean what you said, wanting me gone?" You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his tight jaw, a clear sign of his restraint, "Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't love me then. If you can do that, I'll go as you wish."
Finally, he turned to meet your gaze, his eyes pleading, almost begging you not to push him. You couldn't comprehend his stubbornness; was it just his pride getting in the way? With a defeated nod, you relented, "I understand. You must truly want me to leave and be with His Highness. I suppose there's no point in staying where I'm not wanted. Goodbye, General Park."
Just as you began to pull your hand away and rise from your seat, he surprised you by wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his embrace. His whisper in your ear sent shivers down your spine, "No, I'm sorry... You're right; I didn't mean any of what I said. I love you too, my wife. Please don't go."
With a tired exhale, you melted into his embrace, finding solace in the warmth of his arms as you buried your face against his shoulder. Each comforting squeeze seemed to ease the heartache you had been carrying, restoring a sense of wholeness within you. This was where you belonged, in his arms.
"You're such an idiot, you know that?" You murmured softly.
He chuckled against your neck, his breath tickling your skin, "I suppose I am." He admitted with a hint of amusement.
"About damn time you realised it, Park Seonghwa. I've been telling you for years. Disrespect your wife like that again, and I'll make you regret it—" Hongjoong's voice cut through the room as he burst in, followed closely by Wooyoung and Jongho, prompting laughter from you as your husband pulled you closer, using you as a shield.
"Please, he just regained consciousness!" The assistant interjected, defending his master despite earning a stern glare from the dressmaker. Deep down, however, everyone knew Hongjoong couldn't have been happier to see his friend alright.
« Preview of Part 19 »
In the warzone, Mingi paced anxiously, his mind consumed with worry for the general's well-being. It had been only two days since he dispatched the messenger to deliver his urgent letter to Yunho. He could only pray that Seonghwa had made it home safely and that his message had managed to reach the physician in time.
Despite his concerns, the strategist forced himself to focus on the immediate tasks at hand. He delved into refining his current strategies and devising new contingency plans for any potential scenarios that might arise before his superior's return.
Before long, a breathless soldier burst into the main tent with urgent news, rambling away in a panic, "Bad news, Officer Song! We were on standby at the border when..."
Mingi placed a reassuring hand on the soldier's shoulder, "Woah, breathe. Calm down and tell me what you saw."
After composing himself, the soldier continued, "Sir, Ruhon soldiers have been sighted approaching once again!"
Oh, crap.
He struggled to understand why this was happening. General Park had defeated most of the enemy forces in the last battle. Where could Ruhon possibly be sourcing this new influx of soldiers from? With the general absent, the strategist knew he would have to take command of the army despite his lack of recent battlefield experience.
But there was no other choice.
Tumblr media
I hope you're happy with the outcome HAHA y'all, it's hilarious how accustomed I've grown to writing angst for this story that it felt incredibly weird to write a happy scene. Only two parts left, yippee!
As always, thank you so much for reading, and please let me know your thoughts! <3
Tag list (1/2): @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol @atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii @ddaeing @sanstreasure0305 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo @puppyminnnie @tinyteezer @vantediary @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @aliona124754 @bts-army380 @lilactangerine @atinyniki @pay13 @1117promises @xoxkii @st4rcig4r @hikarii02 @nescaffei @xdolls-crownx @ashrocker123 @skzline @minkiflwr @starssongs98 @baeksofty @skz1-4-3 @kawaiikels @madnpan @maoyueze @en-happiness @cheolliehugs @persnyako @startinystay @chngbnwf @fatspecimen @christinerose380 @stfu-rina @kyukyustar @taytayy178 @appleschre @brielle-in-the-galaxy @laurenwidjaja @yangwonielvrs @n1k1mura @idkwgoh @loveateez @linosllvr @wolfgurl2600-blog
Tumblr media
All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.
570 notes · View notes
maxsimagination · 3 months
Note
Could you do a smut fic with Katie McCabe possibly about reader and Katie swapping shirts and doing it in the changing rooms. Katie likes seeing her name on your back whilst you do it
𝙨𝙬𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙨 - 𝙠.𝙢𝙘𝙘𝙖𝙗𝙚
Tumblr media
warnings: smut. 18+ under the cut.
reader is captain of aus during the world cup.
caitlin and katie aren’t together in this.
a/n: not my best work 🤦🏼‍♀️ but fiwb
------
it was a brutal game against ireland, fouls being committed everywhere.
and by everywhere i mean katie maccabe.
going up against the captain wasn’t easy by any means, she was the most determined defender in the pitch and was not afraid to slide into tackles.
i wasn’t any less determined, but as the opposing captain and a striker, i was typically the one on the end of her tackles.
however by the end of the first half, australia had already gained three goals. one scored by me and the other two assisted by me.
clearly that didn’t set katie in a good mood and she was even worse on the pitch then before. it wasn’t just me she’d been targeting before, going up against caitlin and mary. but now it was just me. i hit the ground about three times within ten minutes, all courtesy of katie.
when i was thrown over again and i looked up to see katie at fault, that was my final straw.
“what the hell was that? you could seriously injure me if you keep going.”
“woah, calm down there, y/n. just trying to do my job.”
her thick irish accent coating her words while her eyes bore into mine made it harder to comeback. so i stood there for a second, fuming in silence while katie had a ridiculous smirk on her face.
the game moved on with no card and australia did end up winning four - nil.
when the final whistle blew and everyone was celebrating, i walked over to katie.
“good game.”
i held out my hand to shake. the irish captain looked at me then my hand. when she finally shook it, she spoke up.
“we should swap shirts.”
that was all she said, leaving it up to me to decide.
“sure.”
i lifted my arms up above my head, bringing my shirt up and off my body with it. i could feel katie’s eyes on my abdomen, just trailing along the muscles. it was only when i had held mine out to her that she snapped out of her stupor and took hers off too.
my eyes naturally found her abs, memorising the ripple when she lifted her arms.
we handed over our shirts to each other, putting on the opposing colour. it didn’t feel natural, wearing the bright green of ireland, but i was willing to wear it for katie.
she had slipped on the golden-yellow of mine and the camera man had walked over to get a picture of us. so we stood together, motioning to the shirts as the poses.
when we parted, i shook her hand again, before walking back to my team.
we all made a lap around the stadium, signing things and some of my teammates gave out their own shirts, but i kept the green one to myself. when we made it back to the tunnel, the ireland players were nowhere to be found, having gone back down the tunnel earlier. my team traipsed ahead of me, all celebrating the crucial win.
but then someone grabbed my wrist and tugged me in the opposite direction.
turns out, that person was katie. still wearing my shirt from earlier, she tugged me into the irish changing rooms. no one was in the room, apparently all having left the stadium earlier.
“they aren’t here. coach took everyone back to the hotel. i said i had someone to see.”
katie spoke up, noticing my hesitation.
she tugged me further in, then skinning me round and pinning me against the door.
“my name on your back does things you can’t imagine to me, love.”
“katie-”
“you have no idea how much i want to kiss you right now.”
“so do it.”
she was taken aback by my sudden response to her less-than-professional words. but, without second thoughts, she dove right in and pressed her lips against mine.
they were soft, but desperate, against my own. she ran her tongue across my bottom lip, asking permission. i instinctively opened my own lips and katie wasted no time slipping her tongue into my mouth.
i let out a small whine, somehow begging katie to do something more.
she lifted her knee to press against my crotch, giving me the smallest amount of pressure where i needed it most.
her action elicited a moan from me, had me begging for more.
“please katie, touch me.”
a smirk grew on her face, and there was now a fire in her eyes, like she was hungry. she slid her hands down to my waist, tugging down my shorts and underwear.
her fingers trailed down to my thighs, spreading them slightly then dipped a finger into my folds. she dragged it through my wetness before bringing it back up to her mouth where she sucked off the juices.
“katie.”
i groaned at her, she sure was taking her time.
“patience, love.”
with that, she slipped her fingers back down to my dripping folds. almost immediately she pushed inside me and set a steady pace.
she started off slow, thrusting in and out, letting me get used to the intrusion. then she sped up, flexing her bicep muscles while adding another finger.
i was moaning at the full feeling of her fingers inside me, hips rocking to meet katie’s thrusts.
“faster katie, please.”
“as you wish, princess.”
she sped up even further, adding her thumb to bump against my clit which sent me into overdrive.
“katie, katie i’m cumming-”
and with that i’d already been pushed over the edge.
katie slowed her thrusts to help me down from my high, licking her fingers clean when she pulled out.
“we should do this again sometime, princess.”
435 notes · View notes
chuluoyi · 4 months
Text
UNHOLY MATRIMONY — 10
Tumblr media Tumblr media
✩°。 ⋆ a death wish
- fushiguro megumi x oc/reader - oc/reader's character name is hara sena, pronouns still refer to “you” and i won’t mention it often—just for the sake of aesthetic rather than repeatedly writing "y/n"
in another life, in which fate is still screwing his life over, Fushiguro Megumi finds himself in an arranged marriage―with you.
genre/warnings: arranged marriage au, drama, angst, angst, angst, another gojo cameo (but he is being kinda insufferable?), naoya <- a warning in and of itself
notes: soon, guys, soon. not now... but naoya will meet his end soon and yeah, the end is a timeskip. next chapter would explain how :)
listen to: monster - big bang
Tumblr media
✩°。 ⋆ unholy matrimony (masterlist) | chapter nine : all done <- previous ✩ next -> chapter eleven : transcendent truth
Tumblr media
A week later, true to what Naoya said, Megumi still felt like he was the biggest fool out there.
To say that he was simply heartbroken would be an understatement, because it went beyond that. Is there even a word that could adequately explain extent of this betrayal? He was utterly deceived, maneuvered like a chess pawn.
If that day hadn't unfolded as it did, how long would he have remained oblivious to this deception?
And yet, despite that, no matter how searing the pain was, Megumi apparently wasn't heartless enough to drive you out. So he chose to go instead, renting a room at the nearest motel to the headquarters.
He made a conscious effort to avoid you whenever possible—drowning himself in missions so he didn't have to see you in the workplace. And it worked, he hadn't crossed paths with you since last week. The love tucked away in the deepest corner of his heart tugged at him, urging him to at least check on how you were doing, but his wounded pride made him focus on another task at hand.
"Megumi?"
This. Kurusu Hana was calling for him.
"What is it?" he turned to her, who was standing by Tsumiki's bedside, having just finished her enchantments on her. The very least he could get after being dragged into this deceitful marriage with you was Tsumiki being released from her curse.
Hana looked at him curiously. "Are you alright? You seem out of sorts, somehow..."
The past week, all Megumi did outside his workhours was tending to Tsumiki and interacting with Hana in the hospital. After getting to know her a little more, he noticed she was a bit scatterbrained. However, she seemed like a genuinely good person and was pleasant to have around, and before he knew it, he was much more comfortable around her and not exactly holding back his words as he used to.
"Ah, no," he brushed her off. "Just thinking of some things."
"Oh..."
On her side, Hana couldn't help but notice that something seemed different about him. "Is... uh, your wife not coming?"
Megumi almost jerked in his seat. Oh, right. He realized he hadn't mentioned to her that you two weren't on speaking terms anymore. He hadn't felt the need to bring it up.
“No.”
“Uh… I don’t mean to pry, but… did you two have a fight or something?”
“I think that’s what you’d call prying, personally.”
Hana felt like her face would burst into flames out of sheer embarrassment. Come on, you like him but don’t make it that obvious.
"Sometimes talking about it helps, you know," she braved herself. No, she reasoned. She was here as a friend. Not that she was curious.
Or maybe just a bit?
Megumi eyed her sharply. "About what?"
He didn't mean to get snappy. But when you were on the brink of divorce with your wife, you were entitled to, right?
"Your problems," she asserted. "I'm saying, talking to someone can make you feel better."
"To you?"
Hana gulped. "Yeah."
It had been daunting enough to know that he was married. Nothing could be worse than that―certainly not saying that he could rant to her.
Megumi didn't want to have his problem out in the open, much less to someone who was more like a stranger like Hana was. But he had no one to turn to... and truth to be told, he was still in an internal debate with himself regarding everything―what his life had come to.
He scoffed. "Highly doubt it."
"It does! Look, I'm going to start first―"
She then proceeded to ramble about how her landlady was an annoying woman who kept adding extra charges. Her expressions shifted so frequently that it became almost comical.
She was kind of like you, in a way―the expressiveness.
Then again, maybe not really. Evidently, you managed to fool him completely and fully, you were hiding something behind that crafted cheerfulness you showed to him.
"―and haaah! Now I feel much better!" she remarked with a wide smile and twinkling eyes. "See? It's harmless! I won't divulge it to anyone, I promise!"
"Are you an idiot?" Megumi deadpanned, and Hana merely chuckled, abashed at how much she'd gotten worked up over it.
Megumi didn't have much to say, however. He was just grappling with numerous thoughts, and now he started wondering if having someone to listen might offer some relief, even a little. "How would you feel if someone very close to you lied to you?"
"Huh? Someone... close?" Hana was clearly caught off guard. And when he nodded, she tilted her head to the side, seemingly choosing her words carefully. "I'd be upset, of course."
"Would you forgive them?"
"That's a tricky question... I think it depends?"
"On what?"
Hana blinked in confusion. What had happened to Megumi that he pulled this... sad―almost desperate―expression? Who exactly did he want to forgive?
"I'm not an expert on this but..."
At that moment, she had an epiphany―could it be... you?
"If it's truly something that's so unforgivable, then I suppose... no," she decided then, albeit warily, gauging Megumi's reaction. "There's just a limit to what someone can forgive."
"Hmm... A limit, huh?"
Certainly, she wasn't expecting any reaction that would give him away, and Hana wasn't someone who would take an advantage out of someone who was fighting with his wife, anyway. But still, if it was you that he had in mind, then she was... genuinely curious.
Meanwhile, Megumi was left with even more thoughts than before. Thoughts about the whole shit of the ordeal, and you, among everything else. And he thought, he had his answer then.
He still didn't find it in himself to.
Tumblr media
You hadn't seen Megumi ever since that day.
You knew he was intentionally avoiding you, given that his work desk in headquarters was always empty whenever you clocked in. And you weren't actively seeking him out either―seeing him would only make you feel shame all over, so no, you were fine with how it was.
It still hurt, but it was more bearable these days.
"Sena-san, are you sure you're alright?" Nobara asked you after both of you finished your mission. You two weren't exactly close, but from a handful of times you were paired with her for missions, you got the gist that she was a fun person.
Glancing at your bandaged arm―an aftermath from your mission earlier, you casually shrugged and remarked, "Oh, this? It's just a scratch, nothing serious."
"Really, Fushiguro should take better care of you," she grumbled. "Why is he still letting his wife taking missions? If I were him, I'd forbid you from this line of work altogether."
Thump!
Your heart squeezed at the mention of Megumi's name, realizing that no one here knew your recent unfortunate circumstances yet. Megumi hadn't told anyone―he was not the type to, to be exact.
"How is he? Is he doing okay?" you looked down, deliberately not meeting Nobara's eyes, because you weren't sure if you would be able to keep this "I'm fine" facade if you look at her in the face while talking about Megumi.
"Hmm? In missions, you mean? Yeah, as always," she blurted nonchalantly. "He's skillful. His talent is enough to bail him out of anything."
Talent. Ha. Now you understand a fraction of what Megumi must have felt, being reduced to just his gift from the so-called Zen'in bloodline.
You let out a sigh, blinking the mist in your eyes away. "Does he get hurt often?"
"Bah. Getting hurt is nothing new. If you ask me, I think he and Itadori just love to race each other to rack up the most bruises, actually."
A frown etched itself across your forehead. "That's not good..."
"Boys will be boys, I suppose. Don't worry too much!" Nobara said with a light chuckle. "I hate to admit it, but Fushiguro knows how to take care of himself far better than anyone here does. You have nothing to worry about."
That gave you some relief. He was fine. And he will be.
"Nobara-san, please keep an eye out for him, yeah?" you muttered with a repressed smile. Keeping tears at bay was tough, but you were determined to stay cool. "I can't always be around for him. He may not seem like it, but someone has to watch over him so he won't overdo himself."
Nobara blinked, obviously taken aback by your simple, heartfelt plea, but she quickly collected herself and barked a laugh. "Leave it to me, Sena-san! I know how to keep those troublemakers by the leash!"
With everything taken care of, you parted ways. Just before heading back to Megumi's apartment―really, one of these days, you were going to move out too because how could you still hog his place?―you found a mail on your desk. A brown, neat envelope.
Driven by curiosity, you swiftly tore it open, only to feel your heart sink to the lowest abyss as you read heading of the pristine paper.
Notice of Divorce by Agreement.
Suddenly, your vision blurred, and you grasped onto the desk, causing the papers to scatter to the floor. A choked whimper escaped your lips, and then it turned into a fit of sobs.
Of course. Of course. Why didn't you expect this? Both of you had to come to a resolution eventually. You couldn't be in a stalemate with Megumi forever―not quite willing to end the marriage but also not entirely wanting to continue it.
And this is how it ends.
A part of you died when you scanned Megumi's formal name and signature, as well as the witness―Kurusu Hana. For fuck's sake. Who was that again? How did the witness to your divorce be someone you never knew?
Suddenly you felt anger coursing through your veins. How was this your life? You never wanted to be embroiled in this shit in the first place. You never wanted to be born in Hara clan in the first place. You never wanted to drag a stranger to your mess in the first place.
And yet you did. And yet you lost everything all the same. You poor mother, how was it fair that she had to pay the price first and now, you too?
...okay, who were you kidding? You had to pay the price because you instigated everything. But still, you couldn't help the pain tearing your chest, the fervent hope that Megumi might understand, the longing that he wouldn't abandon you just like that. Because if the positions were reversed, you would definitely hear him out first.
Alas, fate just didn't favor you. When did it ever, really?
. . .
Oh, the curse breaker.
You finally remembered, right after you furiously scrawled your name and signature on that scrap of paper.
Tumblr media
"I'm just saying, if you're going to make her even more miserable, then you should just get a divorce."
It was what Gojo Satoru told him when he somehow got a hold of him and forced his way inside his hostel yesterday.
In a daze, Megumi managed to get hold of the divorce papers and left them on your desk. He knew it wasn't the best move—just as forging someone else's signature wasn't either. But his conversation with Gojo had stirred up a storm of emotions, especially a sense of righteous anger.
"How could you, Gojo-sensei?" he demanded as soon as his mentor stepped into his space, feeling a surge of betrayal coursing through his veins. "What more do you want from me? Is toying with me not enough for you?"
"Megumi," the Six Eyes user began, and unlike all other instances in which he was trying to be funny, now he looked as serious as he could be. "First of all, I apologize for—"
"That means nothing," he bitterly spat. "You have scarred me for life. You and Sena both."
Gojo let out a resigned sigh. "Fair point, but now that we have come to this, you deserve the truth."
And then Megumi heard it all. About how you had no one to turn to, how you came to him to stage everything, how he agreed, and how you dragged Zen'in Ogi into your plans too.
By the end of it all, he was furious. Even more than before.
"You... absolute bastard," Megumi hissed through gritted teeth, glaring squarely at Gojo.
"Yeah, I might be, but you know what, Megumi?" Gojo dauntingly challenged, his eyes gleaming and unwavering with intensity. "For the record, I really thought you could do it."
"Do what?" At this point, he just wanted to rage and not think of anything else, because for the life of him, he couldn't fathom what Gojo Satoru might expect from him or what he himself was capable of doing.
"Taking the Zen'ins to your hands. You have the capability to do so. And with Sena too, she knows what she is doing."
"Is—" Megumi couldn't believe it one bit, the very shit coming from his mouth just now. "Is that kind of reasoning supposed to make me able to forgive you? If you really think so, then get the fuck off!"
He hated it. He hated how he made it sound as if you were just as complicit in this as he was. Even when that was the truth.
"No. Your anger is justified," Gojo stated sharply. "But if you look at it differently, it's actually my acknowledgement of you. Of your strength. All the terrible things you've faced, they hold significance, and reclaiming what's yours from the Zen'in would be the ultimate embodiment of it."
"Don't patronize me! You don't get to fucking choose what I should do! And what's more—I don't need your fucking acknowledgement!"
How arrogant could someone possibly be? Megumi recognized Gojo Satoru as an unparalleled individual, but who did he think he was that he could play with another's fates? A god?
"You may take it however way you wish," Gojo blurted indifferently, seemingly having enough of this too, as he also knew better than anyone that changing Megumi's mind would be a tall order. "And now, what happens?" he scoffed, changing the subject, throwing a glance at the shabby room of his current place to stay. "What do you plant to do now? What about Sena?"
"That's not your business whatsoever—"
"I'm just saying, if you're going to make her even more miserable, then you should just get a divorce."
That was what drove him to do just that. First, the very mention that you might be miserable did something to him, and then second, the feeling of utter betrayal. Maybe cutting you off would make all of this better, somehow.
But now, as Megumi sank on his uncomfortable bed in this cramped space, he had the time to think over Gojo's words in a calmer state of mind. True, what you did was beyond appalling—but it wasn't as if you truly wanted to manipulate him either. You weren't in an ideal situation either, and now, you were just as miserable as he was.
How are you? Have you been eating well? You tend to skip meals when you're upset, and that could take a toll on your health. It reminded him of the time you went on an eating strike before.
"Haah," he grounded out, pulling an arm over his eyes, willing his headache away. How was it that even though you had betrayed him this bad, he was still worried about you?
Tumblr media
Two weeks later October 31 Zen'in estate
It is only a matter of time, really.
Naoya could scarcely believe that it had come to this. How his home had shattered in the most grotesque way possible. Brought by his own hands, no less.
But Ogi should have expected it when he insisted on that Fushiguro bastard to keep being in the next line of succession. He should have known that Naoya, the true heir, would have his head.
He had left his daughter with a pretty sound message too. For whoever in his accursed clan still wanted to defy his claim, they were welcome to do so... but only if they were ready to face him and settle it in blood.
As he dawdled inside the barrier that had been pulled down for his supposed duel with Fushiguro Megumi, Naoya mused to himself.
What was taking him so long?
(It just didn't register in his deluded mind that Megumi might have deserted him altogether. He thought everyone and anyone, without a doubt, coveted the position like he was)
Still grumbling to himself, Naoya suddenly noticed a silhouette slipping through the dark curtain, which promptly sealed shut. The curtain was specifically designed for this deadly showdown—it wouldn't dissolve until only one victor remained standing.
Naoya barked a scoff, whirling to face his fated match. "You surely took your sweet time—"
But then his eyes widened as he recognized who stood before him, and then he doubled over in maniacal laughter.
"Hah—ah—what sort of joke is this?" he managed to utter between wheezes, shaking his head in disbelief. "Are you out of your mind? Have you completely lost it?!"
A level-headed gaze met his, and Naoya was convinced, this was indeed his day to win.
"Hara Sena— do you really wish to die?!"
Tumblr media
✩°。 ⋆ next -> chapter eleven : transcendent truth
Tumblr media
🏷️ taglist
@moonmalice @hellothere9597 @qtnfer @firstplaidpeachnickel @waddlingwanderer @chilichopsticks @satorus-slut @dcvilxswish @lees-chaotic-brain @tojirin @bluebreadenthusiast @pandabooster @cole-silas @becsmarvel @giuli-in-earth @fuckimgenderfluid @haitanisrarity @kimura-uzuri @bicchaan @lunavixia @stevenknightmarc @rory-cakes @sushisimp @sad-darksoul @iluv-ace @squidalapobre @hopeladybug @beyondmyownlittleworld @mrsyangsikmoa @kasumitenbaz @nothisispatrick300 @angrydaughter @lili-of-the-dream @kiki17483 @abcdenhb @l1n0m3 @darling006 @traacy-lin @akaashisbbgirl
491 notes · View notes