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yoon-kooks · 2 years

Text

how many | jjk | 1

Pairing: Jungkook x TattooArtist!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut, BadBoy!AU

Summary: To Jeon Jungkook, you're just the cutie who sits across from him in art class. He doesn’t have a clue that you're also the hidden face of his favorite tattoo artist on social media. When the bad boy notices you've taken a surprising interest in his ink, he dares you to explore every inch of his body until all of his tattoos are accounted for. Tempted by his irresistible smile and delicate touch, you might even let him in on your little secret.

Word Count: 5k

Parts: 0 ◆ 1 ◆ 2 ◆ 3 ◆ 4 ◆ 5 ◆ 6

A/N: no smut in this one, but yall lmk if you feel that sexual tension;;;; i also want to mention that some of jk's tattoos in this fic are real & some are made up for the sake of the story ! for new readers, please read the prologue (part 0) before this!

◆ the one you found covered in sweat ◆

On a rare day off from both school and work, you lock yourself in your room, slide your headphones on, and sketch because that’s your idea of a day well-spent. Sure, you could be grabbing lunch with a friend or hanging out by the pool in that new cute bikini you bought, but that’s not really the way your introverted self works.

The relationships you’ve built never extend past where they’re established. You adore your clients who continue to cover their bodies in your art, but you don’t have anything to do with them outside of your parlor. And even when you vibe with a classmate, no one extends an invitation to hang out outside of class. You’re fine with that, though. You like to think you just haven’t made a connection that’s worth investing your personal time into.

You have no real reason to believe it’ll be any different with Jeon Jungkook. For all you know, he treats you the exact same way he treats anyone who sits across from him. After all, he has 100,000 followers whom he’s found a way to charm, one way or another.

Still, you can’t seem to shake the feeling of him being even slightly intrigued by you and your art. The faded bunny tattoo on your hand is a constant reminder of the warm yet playful exchange that went down on the first day of the semester. That was nearly a week ago, and yet, it’s still very much on your mind.

“Y/N, hey, we need to talk,” a voice calls from outside your door with a sense of urgency. “There’s a rumor going around, and I think we need to address it.”

What rumor could a lowkey person like you possibly be involved in? You swear you haven’t done anything problematic or buzz-worthy as of late… or ever, for that matter.

You swing your door open to find your friend & roommate, Kim Seokjin, with a lemon iced tea in one hand and his phone in the other.

“What rumor? Spill the tea,” you demand while pointing at his beverage.

Seokjin takes a long sip of his tea to see if you’ll crack under pressure and fess up to something you didn’t do. When you don’t, he drops the bomb on you. “You’re allegedly dating Jeon Jungkook.”

Of course the ridiculous rumor involves the closest person to a celebrity on campus. You resist the urge to set the record straight before getting some answers. “What makes you say that?”

“He was the first person to follow your new Instagram before I even realized you made another one.” Seokjin flashes his phone screen in your face as if you weren’t already aware of your own IG account. “And the only two accounts you follow are Jungkook and some rando’s art.”

“He sits across from me in art class and said he liked my art.”

“Who? Jungkook or the rando?” Both. You’re surprised Seokjin never considered the possibility that Jungkook and the “rando” were the same person. But then again, Jungkook doesn’t really paint himself as an art student on his @ArtOfKooking account.

“The one I’m allegedly dating,” you say.

“Ah, it makes sense now,” Seokjin nods.

“What makes sense now?”

“You were looking for any excuse to drop that art class before the semester even began,” he says. That’s true. The thought of familiarizing yourself with new people in a new space terrified you. “But since that first day, you’ve been leaving early for class with a big fat smile on your face. If you ask me, I’d say you were more excited to sit across from Jeon Jungkook than to spend the afternoon tattooing a mega celebrity like Park Jimin.”

Seokjin isn’t wrong about how your mood has completely shifted after your first encounter with Jungkook. It’s a lot easier to roll out of bed in the morning when you know there’s at least one person you feel comfortable around in your class. You didn’t realize you were making it obvious enough for your roommate to pick up on, though.

“Most of that is true… except for the rumor itself.” You try to laugh it off, but it doesn’t exactly feel great to be involved in a rumor that others might take as a joke. “Where did you even hear this from?”

“Oh, I made it up five minutes ago after your new account popped up as a suggestion for me to follow,” Seokjin taps his head and grins like he’s some sort of evil genius. To his credit, he really had you fooled. “I just called it a rumor because I knew that was the quickest way to get you out of your room.”

You don’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed by your roommate’s antics, so you just glare at him until he feels obligated to say something else.

“So you might not be dating Jeon Jungkook, but it sounds like you caught feelings for him, right?” Seokjin’s tone switches from menace to supportive best friend, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s getting a little too carried away by this sudden development in your social life.

“I can’t develop feelings for someone I’ve only known for less than a week.” You tell this to both your roommate and the irrational half of your heart.

“Okay, what if we just said you’re interested in getting to know him better?” Seokjin asks. That sounds a lot more reasonable at this point in time. Besides, you’ve already gotten a small taste of what Jungkook is like, and it’d be close to impossible to stop there without further investigation. He’s the perfect hook to any essay, song, or story.

“Let’s go with that,” you nod.

“Excellent.” Seokjin makes the high-pitched sound of an unidentifiable creature as he pulls you out of your room. “If you don’t have anything planned for today—which seems to be the case, given you locked yourself behind that door—you should slide into someone’s DMs and see if he’s down to hang.”

“No thank you. I highly doubt that would end well for me.” You don’t even want to consider that as an option for today.

“Does he know about your tattoo work? I’m sure a tatted-up guy like him would love to get a DM from @snowsleeve, an incredible artist who always seems to be completely booked with appointments.”

“He is indeed one of @snowsleeve’s 507,296 followers, but I haven’t told him I’m that person yet.” It’s not a secret identity that you protect with your life, but it’s also not something you just casually bring up to anyone you meet. They either have to snag an appointment or earn your trust in order to experience the viral tattoo artist in her true form—a sleeveless college kid with an unassuming appearance. “I just don’t want that to be the reason why he’s willing to give me a chance, you know?”

“Aww, Y/N, that’s such a noble thing to say,” Seokjin makes a pouty face and brings it in for a hug. “It’s no wonder why you’re still single.”

You roll your eyes at Seokjin’s savage jab at your relationship status, but he does have a point. You’d have much different interactions with the people around you if they knew you were a tattoo artist of all things, let alone one with such a reputation. Life would probably be a little easier that way, but perhaps you aren’t trying to settle for an easy life. You hate yourself for that.

“Anyway, Jungkook’s probably too busy doing whatever the heck guys like him do. Working out or whatever.” You squirm your way out of Seokjin’s embrace and take one step back toward your room where art & solitude await you.

Just before you can get back to sketching, your roommate catches your hand and says, “We should work out too.”

“You hate working out.” You raise an eyebrow at the menace in front of you. “Are you trying to get me to go to the gym with you in hopes that we run into Jungkook there?”

“No, no, I’m just trying to get you out of your cave for an hour and into a place where you might meet a cute boy,” Seokjin clarifies.

“That’s literally the same thing.”

“C’mon, Y/N, what’s the point of designing tattoos in your room all day if you don’t have a boyfriend to put them on?”

“It’s because I spent my entire life creating art in my room that there are other people who want it etched into their skin.”

“Exactly. I think you can afford to spend one day being a little adventurous at the gym.” Your roommate really doesn’t like taking no for an answer, especially when he knows he’s right. “And besides, even if there isn’t a Jungkook sighting, we can work on our abs while you tell me all about this boy.”

“Okay, fine,” you sigh, shutting your door for some privacy to change into leggings and hide the smile you’ve been sporting a lot recently.

After going a little too hard on the ab bench, you decide to walk it off on the treadmill while Seokjin keeps at it with a surprising amount of fire in his eyes. Maybe he likes the gym after all. And if that’s the case, you’ll gladly accompany him again for future workouts because that’s the least you can do for your supportive roommate, even if Jungkook isn’t a regular at this gym.

“Nice hand tattoo.” You immediately identify the owner of that smooth voice and watch him jog toward the treadmills in a black muscle tank that should probably be illegal. Of course Jeon Jungkook is a regular at this gym.

“Thanks, I know a talented tattoo artist,” you say, waving hello to the boy as he steps onto the treadmill to your right. From the corner of your eye, you see him take another peek at your right hand where his faded mark on you still resides.

“I didn’t know you were into working out and stuff.” Jungkook does a not-so-subtle job of eyeing you in your little white crop top and leggings. You figure he thinks either your outfit is cute or you’ve never stepped foot into a gym before. Most likely the latter.

“I’m not,” you admit, even though it’s pretty obvious from the way you occasionally stumble on the treadmill. “I’m just here while my friend is sculpting out a six-pack.”

The boy next to you glances in the direction of the ab benches, not that he’d know what to look for without a visual description of your friend. “Aren’t you bored?” he asks.

You shrug, doubtful that there’s any way to actually make the gym less boring. You’ve accepted your fate at this point, but Jeon Jungkook isn’t a bad consolation prize either.

When it doesn’t appear that anyone else is coming to rescue you from the monotony of the treadmill, Jungkook hops off and presses a button on your machine to slow you to a stop.

He does a quick count on his fingers before cocking his head. “I can think of at least three things that would be more exciting to do at the gym than jogging on a treadmill.”

He waits for you to take a hint, follow his lead, and ditch the treadmill. When you finally do, he brings you over to where everyone is grunting and lifting well above their weight.

Jungkook points to the young man lifting 200 pounds over his chest. “You think you can do that, Y/N?”

“Yeah, totally.” Your eyes shift from the barbells to dumbbells to equipment you’ve never seen in your entire life, still taking in the intensity and motivation that surrounds you. If Jungkook hadn’t called your machine of choice boring, you’d probably be back on the treadmill by now. “So what are the three exciting things you were talking about?”

“Well, this is one of them.” Jungkook slaps his hand down on an open bench. You and Jungkook must have two different definitions of “exciting things” because bench press isn’t one of them for you. A better word for bench press is “intimidating.”

The boy must see the fear in your eyes because he squats down beside the bench and motions for you to do the same on the other side. The room suddenly feels smaller and more intimate, like it’s just you and him. Once you’re directly across from him, he plants his left elbow into the bench and holds his hand out in competitive fashion. This gives you an excellent view of a newly discovered tattoo just above his tricep.

“We can start out slow by arm wrestling. That way, I’ll have an idea of your strength and how much you can lift,” he says, wiggling his fingers for you to clutch onto. The way he holds onto your hand is strong and comforting as opposed to the suffocating grips of the muscular folks deadlifting in your vicinity. Somehow, he makes you feel safe in a place where injuries are the norm. Moreover, you feel accepted where you couldn’t be more out of place.

“Okayreadygo!” You slur your words as fast as you can and start to push in an attempt to catch the boy off guard. Unfortunately for you, the combination of the sneak attack and your full strength is not enough to move Jungkook’s hand from the starting point.

“Are you even trying, Y/N?” he asks, even though he can very clearly feel the shakiness in your arm. Rather than pushing back and putting an end to your struggle, he lets out a small chuckle in response to your valiant effort. He’s the one who isn’t trying.

When all hope seems to be lost, you decide to reevaluate your situation. Maybe it’s time to play dirty.

“Is it cheating to use my other arm?” It couldn’t hurt to ask at this point.

“No, go ahead.” His offer feels as though it’s out of pity instead of kindness. Your theory is quickly proven to be true when his generous smile morphs into a mischievous one. “You can use all the help you can get.”

Your response to his taunt is more nefarious than using your other arm to make it a 2v1. Without warning, you slide a curious finger across the inked skin between his tricep and deltoid. You feel a few goosebumps sprout beneath your touch.

“Found a new one,” you say, eyeing the details in the thin strip of art that wraps around his upper arm. At first glance, it looks like a simple band with the same little skeleton dude dancing all the way around. But upon further review, you notice there are subtle differences with each of the skeleton’s poses. They vaguely resemble letters. “Does this say something?”

When Jungkook turns his attention to his arm, he’s focused more on your touch than the art beneath it. As you trace each of the tiny skeleton silhouettes, his eyes follow your finger like a cat locked onto its prey. His muscles are relaxed, meaning the ongoing arm wrestling match is probably the last thing on his mind right now.

Before he can answer, you summon all of your strength to push his vulnerable arm down, flat against the bench in one clean swoop. Who would’ve thought it’d be that easy to defeat Jeon Jungkook at arm wrestling? There’s a half second delay in Jungkook realizing what the heck just happened.

“Hey, that was dirty.” The boy tries to sound upset, but his body language says otherwise. He lends both hands to help you up out of the squat position and lays you down on the bench. You squint up at the gym ceiling, blinded by the lights. Like the moon during an eclipse, his handsome face looms over you, shielding your eyes from the harsh bright beams. “I actually believed you were interested in my tattoo.”

“I am,” you say softly, locking your eyes with his. You’re fairly certain he’s just pretending to sulk, but you also want to make sure he knows you’re genuinely intrigued by his body art. You’d hate to lose the one thing that seems to connect you to him. “I still want to know what it says.”

You feel the bench cushion dip right next to your head where Jungkook leans on his left arm and hovers his body over yours. His bicep is practically in your face.

“Go ahead and try,” he dares you. From your lying down position, you identify the letters of your favorite caffeinated beverage on the inner part of his arm.

“Latte?” You have a feeling those aren’t the only letters in the whole tattoo, but it does sound kind of cute.

“Try harder.” He frowns, making no effort to twist his arm and reveal more letters to you. He’s made it clear that he isn’t going to just hand you the answer—he wants you to work for it.

You snake your fingers around the forearm beside you and maneuver yourself up into a sitting position. Not only are you in the perfect position to crane your neck and decode the rest of the letters, but you’re also right at eye level with the boy. You should be studying his tattoo, but the lack of air between you and him is making it hard to breathe and even harder to focus.

“Y/N, I thought you said you were going to be on the treadmill,” Seokjin calls out from somewhere behind you, out of breath from those intense ab exercises. Jungkook takes a peek over your shoulder, and you do the same. Seokjin spots the boy next to you, opens his mouth to say something, but chooses not to address the fact that he basically predicted the future.

You turn your head back to Jungkook, but he’s already fled the scene. Together, you and Seokjin watch the other boy from afar as he grabs one of those long metal bars and two of the smallest weights from the rack.

“Was I interrupting something?” Seokjin leans over and whispers to you.

“Yeah, you saved me from having to bench press 200 pounds.”

“Really? Because it looked like he was ready to bench press you,” your roommate snickers.

“Shut. Up.” You shove his exhausted body but catch his arm when he stumbles.

“Fine, fine.” Seokjin lets out a massive yawn as he stretches his limbs out in all directions. He’d normally bicker with you some more, but you suppose exercising has depleted him of all his chaotic energy. “I’ll meet you at home then. I need to lie down for the next 24 hours.”

Your roommate abandons you before you have time to protest and secure a ride back home. On top of that, now you’re stuck with a boy who’s serious about getting you to bench press.

As Jungkook slides the weights onto the bar and sets up a safe station for you, he directs you on a few simple stretches and laughs when you manage to mess them up. You blame the fact that he’s giving you verbal explanations instead of a more hands-on tutorial.

“Hope I didn’t cause a misunderstanding with your friend,” he says. You can’t tell if Jungkook’s voice is softer or if it’s just the growing space between you and him.

You shake your head. “He was just saying dumb things out of exhaustion.”

“So he’s not your boyfriend?” Jungkook places the assembled barbell on the rack above the bench and motions for you to slide your body beneath it. It’s funny how the day started with Seokjin’s rumor about you dating Jungkook, and now Jungkook’s under the impression that you might be dating Seokjin. You wonder if that’s the reason for the sudden distance between you and him.

You shake your head again as you lie back down on the bench. “Seokjin’s my friend, roommate, and occasional arch nemesis, but I can confirm that he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Good,” Jungkook says, probably without giving any thought about the possible implications. You tilt your head, coaxing him to elaborate further. “I mean it’s good that it wasn’t your boyfriend who just walked in on you eyeing me like that.”

“I wasn’t eyeing you like that.” You almost hit your forehead on the bar as you sit up once more to defend your scandalous actions. He really had the audacity to call you out when you were under the impression that he was the one eyeing you like that. “I was merely admiring the art on your arm.”

“Whatever you say.” His voice is back to being smooth, playful, devilish. He scoots onto the end of the bench and nudges your leg with his elbow. You take that as an invitation to examine the rest of his tattoo.

Along with the already established L, A, T, T, E, you identify the rest of the letters one-by-one. “N, T, I, O, N, T, O, D, E, T, A, I? Lat tent ion to de tai…?”

Judging by Jungkook’s wheeze and the nonsense you just spewed, you can safely assume your guess was a little off. With another look, you move a single letter and it all becomes clear.

“Attention to detail.” Saying it aloud reminds you of a fellow tattoo artist who’s known for subtle details within a bigger picture. And now that you think about it, the art style indeed matches hers. “Is this from Amber?” you ask.

Jungkook looks at you as if you just told him you’re pregnant. “She isn’t really known outside of her tattoo work, so I’m surprised you know of her.”

“She’s a hidden gem.” You leave out the fact that you actually know Amber personally and that she’s probably the closest thing you have to a friend in the industry.

“Well if you like her art, I know a few other artists you should follow.” Jungkook feels around his sweatpants and pulls his phone out of his pocket. He lists a lot of impressive tattoo artists, some of which you hadn’t heard of but would love to know more about. It seems he and you share the same taste and enthusiasm when it comes to body art. Who would’ve thought?

And then he names one artist in particular.

“Have you heard of @snowsleeve?”

Uh oh. You nod.

“I think a tattoo from her would suit you,” he says, scanning your arms for the perfect spot for some ink. “Her signature style is classy yet bad.”

“Bad?” You didn’t realize your art was going to be roasted.

“The good kind of bad,” he clarifies. “Like baddie bad.”

You snicker to yourself because that’s the first time someone’s called your art “baddie bad.” But to Jungkook’s credit, he really nailed the essence of your style as a tattoo artist—tasteful with something dark and sensual behind it.

“You don’t want a tattoo from her?” you ask.

“I do, but she’s always booked with that Post Malone guy or something.” For the record, you’ve never done any work on Post Malone. “She did like one of my IG posts recently, though,” Jungkook casually throws in.

Fuck. He’s onto you. You were really starting to think your one little heart on that post had gone unnoticed. And yet, here he is, still thinking about it a week later. Fuck Jeon Jungkook and his attention to detail.

“She must be impressed by your body art.” While it’s true that you’ve adored every tattoo you’ve spotted so far on his skin, you also can’t deny that your initial physical attraction to him is what led to that impulsive double tap on his photo.

“My theory is that it was on accident.” He shrugs.

“That’s another possibility.” Your theory is that if you just keep nodding, you can get through this conversation without any funny business. Although, if you’re being honest with yourself, nothing about him or the attention he receives is an accident. “Anyway, what’s the third thing that’s supposedly more exciting than the treadmill at the gym? We already have arm wrestling and bench press. And to be honest, I’d much rather do whatever Activity #3 is than bench press.”

Jungkook smirks. “Oh really?”

“What is it?” you ask again. You aren’t sure if you’re bothered more by the lack of an answer or the mischief in his eyes.

“Never mind about it.” He fails to wipe that smirk off his face. You hope he realizes his amusement is only adding to your curiosity. “It’s a bad joke, and I apologize.”

“Well now I need to know. At least give me a hint.”

“Okay, okay. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Jungkook holds his hands up in front of him like he’s expecting you to lash out at him. “It starts with S and ends with X.”

“I change my mind. Let’s bench press.” You take a deep breath and situate yourself beneath the barbell because sex at the gym was not on the itinerary for today.

“That’s savage, Y/N. I’m hurt.” Jungkook takes his spotter position behind you and the barbell. Despite what he says, he’s not hurt by your deadpan rejection at all. He actually seems a lot more focused on your safety than the fact that you opted for a dreaded workout over (presumably) mind-blowing sex with him.

You extend your arms up with just the tips of your fingers grazing the cold metal bar. Jungkook might’ve picked the smallest weights for you, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t still afraid of being crushed in the process.

“Grip the bar like this.” The boy demonstrates for you first before helping you place your hands properly on the bar. His warm touch is a reminder that you have someone watching over you. Someone who won’t let anything happen to you on his watch. “Okay, now try lifting it a tiny bit above the rack, just to ensure you can handle the weight.”

You give yourself a second and then do as you’re told. The barbell is lighter than expected, but you know it’ll become more difficult with each rep. You place the barbell back onto the rack and glance up at Jungkook’s upside-down face. Perhaps that was enough to satisfy the masculine urge to teach you the one thing he’s better than you at.

“So are we good for today?” You give him your best puppy dog eyes, although they might not have the same effect from an upside-down perspective.

“Do you want to at least try three reps?” Of course Jeon Jungkook isn’t going to let you off the hook that easily. He points out how you still haven’t let go of the bar and says, “You have a good grip.”

“Fine, but you’re responsible for dragging my body home if I’m too tired to move.”

“Deal.” He doesn’t even hesitate to seal your fate.

Without any more complaints, you do exactly three reps and then lie lifelessly on the bench as Jungkook puts the equipment away.

“C’mon, let’s go.” The boy shuffles around for the keys in his pocket while you still pretend to be sleeping. “Unless you’re planning on doing Activity #3 here after all.”

You blink your eyes open. Jungkook is already headed for the exit, so you hop to your feet and scurry behind him.

“By the way, I think we have two different definitions of exciting things to do at the gym,” you say once you’ve caught up to him.

“Is that your way of saying you hate the bench press?” You appreciate the boy’s ability to read between the lines without all the sugarcoating.

“Yeah, it’s not really my thing.” The two of you might have the same taste in art, but the same cannot be said when it comes to working out. “No offense, Jungkook.”

“Well excuse me for being a boring gym buddy.”

“You weren’t boring,” you assure him, even though he doesn’t really need a confidence boost. “I had fun, actually, and that had little to do with the workout.”

“Ah, I get it,” Jungkook nods with that smirk again. “People do say that life is better with me in it.”

“Who says that?” Just this once, you’ll humor his ego. And besides, he’s not wrong. Life isn’t so bad with him around.

“My 100,000 followers.” He watches for your reaction and is pleased with your eyeroll-smile hybrid. “I’m just kidding, Y/N.”

“That’s such an influencer thing to say,” you tease, knowing his distaste for the label. “Are you sure you aren’t an influencer?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” He throws his tatted arm around your shoulder, double-checking your expression to make sure physical contact is okay with you. “Influencers can’t do things like this without worrying about dating rumors and bullshit like that.”

“Actually, there was a rumor about me and you going around today,” you say.

“Really? Who said that?” There’s more curiosity than concern in his voice.

“Seokjin came banging on my door this morning. Turns out he made it all up though.”

“What’d you tell him?”

“I did the mature thing and told him we’re getting married next week.”

“Haha, very funny.” Jungkook gives your shoulder a subtle squeeze. “For an introvert, you say a lot of weird shit sometimes, you know that?”

“Oh, speaking of weird shit, I thought of an actual gym activity that starts with an S and ends with an X.” You turn to Jungkook with playfulness in your eyes, prompting him to throw out a guess.

“Wait, what’s wrong with sex at the—”

“Shadowboxing.” You square up and do a few jabs in the air.

“Shadowboxing,” Jungkook repeats as he shakes his head with a big fat smile. “It takes a special individual to come up with that one.”

You’ll take that as a compliment.

“And just FYI, I prefer to shadowbox in a place with a little more privacy,” you say. Perhaps he knows you enough now to decode the weird shit that comes out of your mouth and read between the lines.

#bts smut #bts scenarios #jungkook smut #bts imagines #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts bad boy au #jungkook tattoo #jungkook #bts

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moemoemammon · 3 years

Note

Following that "least favorite" request could we get their reactions to being to told that they're their favorite, but to not tell the other brothers so their feelings don't get hurt? Maybe because they relate to them the most or just get along really well. Thanks!

You're My Favorite! But Don't Tell the Others-

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

There are no words to explain the overwhelming satisfaction ion Lucifer’s face after you tell him that. Of course, it’s only natural that he would be your favorite, all things considered.

The Avatar of Pride won’t ever forget this moment. He carefully considers your words and agrees not to tell anyone, as much as he’d love to bring it up, because he knows more than anyone what kind of chaos would ensue should the others (especially Mammon) find out.

But they can tell something’s up when the eldest has been heard humming all day. He moves about the house with even more grace than usual, and hasn’t scowled even once.

But the REAL shocker was when Mammon tried hiding a bill right as Lucifer walked in... and the eldest let him off with a warning. A WARNING! The brothers thought the Devildom must’ve frozen over, but you and he knew different.

“MC, I would like you to accompany me to Le Pluvier this afternoon, once you've finished your studies. I've already made reservations, so be sure to get ready on time. I've made sure to consider the things you might like to eat, so I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself. Don't be late." "...I'm grinning? I don't know what you're talking about."

Mammon

The gigantic grin on Mammon’s face is so bright, it could rival the sun. You’ve seriously made his day. No, his year. Actually, he’s pretty sure he could ride this high for the next millennia! There’s nothing in this world that could dampen his spirits right now!

He feels like he just won big at the casino! Of course he’s your favorite! He WAS your first demon, and now he’s gone and claimed his rightful spot as your number one! Good luck trying to keep him from saying anything. Mammon’s gonna throw it around in everyone’s faces for as long as he can milk it.

And you thought he was clingy before, just wait till you see how he treats you after hearing that. Despite always calling you his ‘servant’ or his ‘human’, you’d think your roles were reversed. Mammon spoils you every chance he gets, buying you clothes and trinkets, filling the spaces in your room with the things he knows you like, monopolizing you completely until nearly everything you own is a gift from him.

Your words also help soothe that jealousy of his a little. Only a little, though. It’s easier to watch you talk to other demons when he knows he’ll always be your first man.

“Didja really have to stay after class that long? I know you were talkin' to that demon that lent you a book, but you outta ask ME for stuff! Tch... you're lucky I'm in a good mood today! But I guess I don't have to worry about some low level demon like that, seein' as I'm your favorite!"

Levi

Wait wait wait....Come again? Did you seriously just say what he think you said..? That had to be a mistake! Some kind of...uh..verbal typo! Because there’s absolutely, positively, NO WAY in all of the nine layers that he could be your favorite demon. And yet you still insist that you’re telling the truth, and Levi feels like he’s died and gone to heaven.

Red faced and stammering up a storm, Levi looks like he might die. Is it really okay for a shut-in otaku to feel this giddy? Seriously, he hasn’t felt like this since he got his hands on a signed copy of a Ruri Hana audio drama! No no, this definitely beats that!

You’ve managed to inflate his nearly nonexistent ego, and now he feels like there’s nothing he can’t do! Maybe he could even go to Majolish right now?? THAT’S how good he’s feeling!

Almost as bad as Mammon in keeping it a secret. He doesn’t tell anyone right away, but they’re suspicious when they notice how much time he’s spending out of his room. And then when he and Mammon get in another petty argument, he drops the bomb that he’s your favorite demon in the entire Devildom, and you can guess how things go from there.

“Uuuoooo...!!!!! I've decided..! Since I've got a serious stat buff, I'm going to open a booth at the next convention coming up..! I'll sell my Ruri-chan fan art and spread her influence all over the Devildom! I'd never have the guts to do it normally, but I feel like I could do anything right now! Y-you'll go too, won't you MC?"

Satan

You nearly made this man spit tea all over his book, and now he’s coughing and spluttering and trying to figure out what could’ve prompted what he’s taking as a confession. You.. do realize what you’re saying, don’t you? And you know the kind of effect your words have on him?

Satan isn’t the type that wears his heart on his sleeve, so you have to look for his subtle expressions to tell how he’s feeling. But there’s nothing subtle about the redness of his ears and how he’s begging you not to look at him right now. For the sake of his sanity, give him a minute to recoup.

When he does recover, he agrees to keep it a secret for obvious reasons. And it’s hard to tell that he’s in a good mood, other than the fact that he hasn’t tried to pull any pranks on Lucifer lately. But Asmo sees all, and literally hounds him into spilling the tea.

He tells him a lie of course, but now the other brothers are noticing just how happy he is. Satan's smiling way too much today, isn't he? And he didn't even get mad when Beel got whipped cream on his jacket! Well, not THAT mad, anyway.

"Haaah... everyone's been harassing me all day, claiming I'm smiling a lot. I'm sure I look the same as I always do, but I'll admit that I've been happy ever since you told me that this morning. Wait.. you did think I've been grinning too, do you? I have??"

Asmo

Asmo always jokes about being your favorite and announces it as if the two of you are married, but when you actually confirm that his longing for you isn’t one sided, he ends up smearing lip balm across his cheek in shock. Did you... really say that just now? He knew it all along, but hearing it like that is just...!

Ooooh, he’s so happy he can hardly contain himself! Asmo throws his arms around you, peppering your face in kisses until you feel sticky from lip balm, wipes your face clean, then marks it up all over again. Good luck getting rid of him, because he might never let go.

Immediately posts it to Devilgram. Did you really think he’d let such a momentous occasion go unannounced? You must not have been paying attention to the kind of person he is! Asmo would put you on a pedestal in front of the world like a precious jewel if he were able, but this’ll have to do. He won’t hide his love at all!

Of course, the others don’t take too kindly to it, not that he cares. He never leaves your side, pampers you like crazy, and has even attempted to get you to move into his room. Lucifer put an immediate stop to that, though. Boo...

“I just can't get enough of you, MC! Just being near you gets me so excited that I can hardly stand it! You'll take responsibility for what you're doing to me, won't you? And in exchange, I'll take my time showing you just how much I love you. After all, you're my favorite, too!"

Beel

Beel never has a problem with choking while he eats, and it comes as naturally as breathing. Unfortunately neither of that applies right now, since you just made him choke on a meatball sub.

He usually takes your words with quiet acceptance, but this might be the most emotion you've ever witness from the stoic demon. His eyes are wider than that time that laid on an entire gingerbread mansion, sparkling up with such deep emotion you wouldn't be surprised if he cried. Instead he softens up and immediately embraces you.

...And doesn't let go. Sandwich long forgotten, he's been carrying you around all day, and ignoring any questions or protests from his brothers. Also insists on feeding you throughout the day. The food tastes better when he can enjoy it with you, so why not just bring you everywhere?

When he isn't carrying you, he's following you around subconsciously, either close up against you like a protective wall, or just far enough that you're within his line of sight. As far as not telling anyone, he... tells Belphie immediately. It was an accident though, since there's not much he keeps from his twin.

"MC, I won a meal ticket for Godevil Chocolatier. Let's get something for dessert today. Ah, you can get as much as you want, too. I really want to see what things you choose. They might become my favorites."

Belphie

There's nothing in this world that can wake Belphegor from his sleep, unless he allows it. No loud noises, no amount of shaking or smacking, and not even dragging him around the house. But the moment you whisper that he's your favorite demon, the Avatar of Sloth is wide awake.

Hey, you're not just saying weird things to get a reaction, are you? Because if so, this is a new level of cruel. Yet you confirm that you mean it and swear him into secrecy, and Belphie tries his best not to show how happy he is. A smile keeps creeping up on his face that he struggles to force down. It's annoying...

As funny as it’d be to tell everyone the news, he's good at keeping secrets. Instead, you've noticed that he's been sleeping a little less that before. When he does take one of his hundreds of naps, he finds some way to be closer to you. He's even been seen sleepwalking to your exact location somehow-

It's hard for him to believe that you're not teasing, though. How could HE be your favorite demon here? Belphie doesn't do anything special to win you over, yet after everything he put you through, you like him enough to deep him your favorite?

"You're weird, MC. I mean... me? I won't deny that I'm really happy though, but I guess I'm in disbelief. You should spoil me even more until I believe you. Lend me your lap for a few hours, okay?" "...I wonder what Lucifer would think if I told him, heheh."

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honeytae · 3 years

Note

Hi!! Idk if you’re taking requests or not, but I was hoping I could request something along the lines of where you’re in love with your best friend, taehyung, but he doesn’t know and he’s getting married soon. you don’t tell him how you feel until the night of his wedding when you’re a bit tipsy from drinking your feelings away. you can decide the ending! thank you in advance if you end up writing this! hope you’re doing well and staying safe. Xx

hi darling! i’m so sorry this took so long for me to write. i couldn’t get it to a point where i was satisfied with it for a really long time, i still don’t feel that good about it honestly but hopefully it’s okay for you!!! i tried to make it angsty (yikes) so hopefully it’s not horrible lmao

tags: @ahgasearmyfan, @hoseokayy, @the1921-monsters

genre: angst

word count: 1.6k

warnings: um so much heartbreak, oc is a little (very) in denial about the situation and comes off a little toxic tbh, requited love but nothing they can do about it now, mentions of tae going into a panic attack

You couldn’t handle it.

You couldn’t handle the ‘congratulations to the happy couple,’ nor the Mr. and Mrs. Kim sign practically floating over their heads. You couldn’t handle the copious bouquets and all the preparations that went into this.

And you felt like a complete asshole about it.

Which is precisely why you decided to prematurely exit the event, doing yourself and everyone else a favor by leaving for the night to go sulk in your hotel by your lonesome.

The elevator ride up to your floor was miserable, your own battles within your mind coupled with the fact that your floor was the top one, making the ride excruciatingly long on top of everything else.

Rustling with the hotel key in your bag seemed to take forever as well, finally barging into your half unpacked space with a sigh. You quickly shut the door behind you, hoping you’d been able to sneak away from the hotel lobby without any guests noticing.

Shuffling further into the room, you sat on the edge of the king bed in the center of the room, placing your head in your hands at the mere prospect of this weekend.

Taehyung was getting married. Kim Taehyung, your best friend, the one person you’d been pining for since middle school, would be legally bound to someone else in less than twenty four hours.

Maybe you just shouldn’t have come. Despite sending red flags to Tae, you couldn’t think of a better solution than fleeing at this exact moment. Why did you think you could handle this?

Two knocks against the locked door had your head raising from its resting place, cursing under your breath at someone coming after you.

You didn’t feel well. That would be your excuse.

“Hey, you okay?” Immediately upon opening the door, Taehyung spoke the question out into the air, dark eyebrows knit in concern and kind eyes imploring yours for an answer.

“Hi. I’m fine, just a little tired, Tae.” You pressed your lips together in a hopefully believable smile, the man frowning before nodding at you.

“Me too. Can I come in?” He asked, the question completely innocent however making your heart rate a bit faster at the what if. What if things had gone differently? What if it was still a possibility for things to escalate between you two?

Cut it out. He’s about to be a married man.

You raised your eyebrows at him for a moment, then stepped back to allow him in, putting all your concentration on shutting the wood for a moment as you took a steadying breath.

“What about your party?” You wondered aloud, the man humming as he took a seat on your fully made bed.

“I’m tired of the parties. They’re exhausting.” He chuckled, covering his face with his hands as he reclined back on your bed.

Your heart skipped another beat at the vision, his tight pants leaving little to the imagination and buttons from his dress shirt stretched to new limits with his strained position. Diverting your eyes, you walked over to the desk chair in the corner of your room, reaching for a water bottle out of your mini fridge. Get a fucking grip.

Tossing one over to the bed beside Taehyung, you sat down in the plush seat, grateful that the man didn’t seem to notice your distance from him as you glanced out the window.

Until….

“Are you really okay? I feel like you’ve been avoiding me lately.”

At his sudden words, you froze, gripping your water a bit tighter as you brought your eyes back to his face. He was closer now than before, having scooted to the edge of your bed to lean toward you, eyes showing concern for you as you shuffled in your seat.

Taehyung was never one to beat around the bush, and at times like this, you really wish he would just brush some things under the rug as easy as you could.

“I’m good, Tae. Just have a lot going on, I guess. I’m sorry I made you feel like that.” You said, hoping to clear the air and dismiss the topic as soon as you possibly could. The man’s stare wasn’t helping your state any.

“No apologies. Just wanted to check in on you.” He sighed, seemingly disappointed with your lack of response before a hideous painting across the room caught his eye.

“What the fuck is that?” He griped, making you chuckle as he sat up to lean toward the art piece, squinting with his lip curled in amusement.

“It’s not so bad.” You shrugged, smirking when he turned back to you in bewilderment. Realizing you were teasing him, his eyes went back to normal size, a smile meeting his own lips at the return of your familiar banter.

“How can you sleep in a room with that shit? I feel like asking for a refund.” He shook his head, making you laugh before taking a swig from your water.

“Somehow I manage.” You replied, twisting the cap back on the bottle with a sigh.

It’s times like these that you feel as though nothing is wrong. Times like these that transport you back to periods of your life when Taehyung was just a call away, and you thought maybe, just maybe, you two had a chance. But that was over now. Those days were no more.

Because Taehyung informing you about a blind date then turned into him in a full blown relationship, a serious one at that, and soon enough they were taking big steps such as meeting the parents, moving in together, and yes, getting engaged.

Your friends had been just as shocked as you were, pitying you with deep sympathetic looks over Taehyungs shoulder as you hugged him in confused congratulations. It had all happened so fast...how did you manage to lose him forever?

Waking up the next day, you felt a particular heaviness on your chest. It was the day before the wedding, the rehearsal dinner turned into an entire day of partying for their guests. A celebratory day, if anything.

But waking up and getting all dolled up for this occasion was the absolute last thing you wanted to do, today or ever. You had always thought that you’d have much more of a starring role in Kim Taehyung’s life. Shaking your head to dismiss those kinds of thoughts, you cursed as you left your hotel room, wondering how the hell you’d be getting through this day.

Four martinis. Four martinis was how you’d be getting through today. The bartender had become one of your closest acquaintances over the past few hours, eyeballing you silently as he poured you yet another cocktail, your demands obvious that you were not drinking out of celebration.

Sitting at the bar, you contemplated everything. From the time you’d met Tae, you had been so sure that you two completed each other. Were you that naive? And fuck, why are you still thinking about this now? It’s over. You and Tae will never be.

Nearly jumping off your stool at a hand suddenly clapping your back, you shifted your gaze over to the arm belonging to Jungkook, one of Taehyung’s youngest yet wisest friends.

“You’re sulking.” He said plainly, dark eyes tracing over your faded features, briefly examining the drink in your hand before shooting the bartender a knowing look.

“You shouldn’t be out here.” You sighed, nearly breaking into a sob when his hand laid over yours, fingers fitting between your own in a comforting gesture. With one glance at the man, you gained all the information you didn’t want.

He knew.

You wondered how long he’d known. Jungkook, being the quiet and relatively introverted person he was, was an observer. He knew everything about everyone it seemed, by not speaking to them at all. He noticed everything.

You just hoped he didn’t notice the way your eyes started blinking rapidly, and that he’d instead just go back into the party without another word.

“Neither should you.” He replied to you, his tone holding nothing but concern as he tried to catch your eyes.

You just couldn’t hold it in.

“Well maybe if I wasn’t in love with him I’d be having a better time.” You mumbled, leaning your head down on your hands, elbows pressed to the tops of your thighs, sad and tired as Jungkook froze beside you.

Unbeknownst to you, a concerned Taehyung had also come to find you, stumbling upon that very scene as Jungkook tried to console you.

Meeting eyes with his older friend, Jungkook’s mouth gaped open for a moment, opening and closing like a fish out of water as you cluelessly rambled under your breath about how stupid you were to ever let yourself come here.

With a shaky exhale, Taehyung silently began to put it all together. The way you’d been working constantly lately, picking up every shift you could to decline his repeated attempts at getting together with you, the way you’d ran off last night and brushed it off as you being too tired. It was all adding up.

You were struggling with this as much as he was. Maybe more.

But what Taehyung could do about this years ago was no longer an option, his hands shaking at his sides as he spun on his heel and walked out of the lobby. He could briefly hear Jungkook call for him but ignored it, breathing heavily as he rounded one of the hallways leading to the restrooms.

Unshed tears misted over his eyes as he hugged a corner of the wall, feeling rather unsteady as he leaned his forehead against the cool surface. The burning pain in his chest had him sinking down to the floor in an instant, sobs wracking his shoulders with heightening emotions rising in his throat.

You’d finally given him the green light. And it was too fucking late.

#bts fanfiction #bts member x reader #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts angst #bts reader insert #kim taehyung fanfiction #kim taehyung x reader #kim taehyung imagines #kim taehyung angst #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung x reader #taehyung imagines #taehyung angst #writing #fanfiction #angst #x reader #reader insert

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enthusiasticharry · 3 years

Text

Second Best

summary: you and Harry meet at a party, but he seems to take more interest in your sister than in you, and you won't be Second Best.

author’s note: bonjour mes chéris!! this is the first instalment of hannah being the history/french student she is and merging all three of her worlds and creating her own little fictional one. this is based off of lousia may alcott’s little women (one of may favourite books ever) but with my own little twist on it. this is set in the 1860′s during the civil war but i haven't made it too historical at all. i have done all of the translations myself and even though i'm semi-fluent i still make mistakes so if you spot any let me know. this is so long so i'll shut up now, thanks for all the support bye!! <3

word count: 16k of good old fashioned marriage talk (there’s a lot of it, its all they spoke about tbf??), fluff, angst and a lil’ smut. there is marriage and children at the end (woo, exciting!) not proofread because my eyes are already asleep.

masterlist | speak to me about second best here!

“Stand up straight, don’t slouch. You have a tendency to do so, and these people will not tolerate it.” You sister, Lizzie, says as she pushes her arm between yours, walking you towards the fancy house in front of the two of you, “Whatever you do, don’t speak about your art at all. Nobody can stop you once you’ve started. Do speak if you’re spoken too, and if you’re asked to dance, dance.”

You shake your head, “But I don’t want to dance.”

“You will dance.” Lizzie says again, squeezing your arm slightly, “You may find yourself a husband if you act proper enough.”

“I shouldn’t have to act proper just to find a husband, Lizzie.” You scoff, shaking your head, “If they don’t love me, oil paints and all, then I don’t want them. I don’t think I’ll ever find a husband.”

“Oh shush with you.” She says, tapping your arm slightly. It didn’t hurt, but it did cause your lips to part in shock, “How lovely would it be if father returned and you were married! It would make his life.”

“I think he’d have a heart attack.” You mutter, removing your arm from around hers as you stand outside of the door you were going to walk through in mere minutes, “I’m his little girl, you are also, Lizzie. If we were both to be married I’d think we’d kill him off.”

“You shouldn’t joke about that.”

“I’m not joking. I truly believe that would happen.” You deadpan.

She scoffs and slips her arm through yours this time, using her free hand to ring the bell. A man wearing one of the fanciest suits you’ve ever seen in your life opens the door, allowing the two of you to slip through. You help Lizzie remove her shawl, whilst she does the same to you. The man hangs them up amongst the array of other jackets. You lips part in shock at the sight of the house you were in, the first thing your eyes falling upon being the large staircase, with paintings littering the walls. For once, you were speechless, unable to control your excitement and want to gawk at the art upon the wall.

“Lizzie!” You gasp, gripping her arm tightly, “Look at the—”

“Don’t you dare say paintings!”

“Lizzie!” You groan again, pulling her arm so that she’s looking your direction, “Look at them.”

“I’m looking at them.” She lifts her eyes to look at the wall you were looking at, where the pieces hung with such grace and elegance, “They don’t seem too spectacular.”

A shocked gasp escapes your lips, “Take that back, Lizzie! They are beautiful!

“If you say so.”

She removes you from your awe of the paintings and pulls you towards the ballroom. There’s people everywhere, the most amount of people you think you’ve ever seen in your life. You watch as they mingle with glasses of Champagne in their hands, the expensive material of their dresses sparkling in the light from the chandelier. Men stood wooing the women before them, flicking their suit jackets and inviting them to dance. The dresses the women were wearing were something out of dreams. You weren’t the biggest fan of dresses, in fact, you lived in trousers around the house, but you couldn’t help feeling embarrassed about your tattered dress. You’ve had the dress for a year or so, and the holes and rips and anything else you’d manage to do to the material could be seen in the light even if you’d fixed it.

“Lizzie!” The call comes from somebody who you don’t recognise, but Elizabeth certainly did and before the syllables of her name could escape your lips, she’s gone. You watch as your sisters whisked away with the crowd, leaving you stood there with no clue as to what to do.

Gripping the material of your dress, you slip yourself to stand by one of the doorways, away from the hustle and bustle of everyone in the room, but close enough for you to be able to watch. Lizzie stands in the middle, just as she always is, with a group of people around her. She was always the centre of attention, the one that everyone loved — you included. You were only a few years younger than her, but you were the only siblings each of you had, so you were close. You had your disagreements, that was certain, but you always came back stronger. You weren’t shocked when you noticed her spinning around holding some man’s hand, dancing away with a smile on her face that always made your insides happy. If she was happy, you were happy.

“Not one for dancing?” You eyes almost bulge out of your head as you hear a voice next to you, a male one at that.

“Oh, um, not really.” You laugh, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “I’m not a very good dancer. I don’t really like dancing, to be completely honest.”

“Everyone loves dancing.” The man says, and you’re able to get a good look at him. A black suit, with a crisp-white shirt sits upon his torso. His hair was a fluffy brown, a chestnut that you found yourself in awe of. His green eyes ones of masterpieces, better than any art you could ever see upon any wall in any gallery, “I believe you are just lying.”

“I am not.” You shake you head, “My sister told me that if anyone asked me to dance I must say yes, but I have decided that I mustn’t. I have two left feet and anyone who is to ever dance with me will regret it, I know of it.”

“I highly doubt that.” He shakes his head, sipping from the glass he had in his hand, “Your sister shouldn’t force you do dance either.”

“Oh.” You shake your head, “Lizzie isn’t forcing me to dance, she just wants the best for me. Dancing is how people meet.”

“It’s how we met.” He says after a few seconds.

You let out a small chuckle, running your tongue over your lips slightly, “Sir, pardon me, but I don’t even know your name.”

“Harry.” He smiles, “M’names Harry.”

“Oh!” You exclaim again, “Harry Styles! You’ve just moved in next door with your father! Mother saw you the other day.”

“You must be—”

“—YN YLN.” You hold your hand out for him to shake, immediately shaking your head and pulling it back, “I’m so sorry, Mr. Styles, Lizzie forgot to remind me to not shake hands. It’s not very ladylike, I know.”

“It’s perfectly okay.” He holds his hand out, and you bite your lip and shake it, “And please don’t call me Mr. Styles. I’m not my father. Call me Harry.”

“Harry.” The name slips from your lips, “I think Lizzie would die if she saw me talking to you.”

“If I may, would you show me Lizzie?” He asks and you nod.

You nod and turn back to the crowd, fluttering your eyes across all of the people in hopes to spot your sister. She was wearing red, the colour which suited her the most in your opinion, so she wasn’t too hard to spot. She was dancing in the middle of the room with a man with blonde hair, a suit similar to the one that Harry was wearing upon his body. She looked happy, and the sight caused a smile to flutter across your lips.

“She’s in the middle there.” You say, nodding your head in the girls direction, “The one in the red dress.”

You turn to look at Harry and once his eyes fall upon your sister, you can tell that the whole world stops around him. His lips part, his eyes widen and if you look closely you can see the reflection of the red dress in his eyes. You’re unsure how long he’s staring at her, but you’re staring at him for the exact same amount of time.

“It’s a. . .” He fumbles with his words after a few seconds, lifting his hands to scratch the back of his neck, “It’s a beautiful dress.”

“It is.” You agree, “Mother let her save up her allowance to buy the material. I should’ve done the same but I spent mine on paints.”

“You paint?” His raises his eyebrow, finally looking back at you.

You nod, “I love to.”

“Then you have every right to spend your money on paints.” He says, and you try to hide the heat that falls upon your cheeks, “You dress is perfectly swell

“It’s not beautiful though.”

“It’s swell, YN.” He reminds you again, “I’m sure you’ll get a beautiful dress at some point.”

Then you’ve lost him. You’re not surprised, though. Everyone prefers Lizzie to you, it’s just how it’s always been. You watch the back of him as he walks towards your sister, taking the world in his stride behind him as he does so. You watch as she courtesy’s for the man she has just danced with, and before Lizzie can go anywhere, she’s scooped up to dance with Harry. Maybe if you had bought the Emerald material your mother had wanted you to, Harry would be dancing with you right now instead of Lizzie. Maybe if you hadn’t been so against dancing in the first place he might’ve asked you to dance.

No, you wouldn’t stoop to that level for a man of all people. If Harry didn’t want to dance with you, ‘swell dress’ and all then you weren’t going to change yourself, no matter how much you wanted to, for a mere man.

“YN!” Lizzie delightful glee of your name came after their dance had died down. Lizzie came bouncing towards you, a just as bashful Harry following behind her, “Harry has offered to take us home in his carriage!”

“Now?” You ask, your heart hopeful that they’d both say yes.

Lizzie turns to look at Harry who shrugs his shoulders slightly, “If the two of you want to, we can.”

“Oh no.” Lizzie places her hand upon his shoulder, “We couldn’t dare take you away from the festivities. We will wait until you’re finished.”

“I’m ready to leave myself, Miss YLN.” He says to Lizzie, the same heat falling upon her cheeks as you had felt earlier.

“Please. Call me Lizzie.”

“Okay, Lizzie.” He grins, “I’ll just go fetch the carriage, see you by the front door?”

Lizzie nods, and you give him a small smile and watch as he walks towards the door. You try not to stare as he shrugs on his coat but it’s hard to, and you know that Lizzie is feeling the exact same way that you are.

“Oh YN.” She gushes, turning to you and placing her hands upon your shoulder, “He’s a perfect gentlemen.”

“Is that so?” You ask, walking towards the door also to fetch your shawl, shrugging it on your shoulders.

“It is.” She copies your actions with her own, “He asked to dance, saying that you were the one to introduce me to him. I can’t thank you enough, dear sister.”

“It’s no issue.” You shake off, turning away from her so that she can’t see the fall in your face, “He seemed to take a fancy to you once I’d pointed you out from the crowd.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes.” You nod your head, turning to look at her. Her shawl was scraggly thrown upon her body, probably from how distracted she was, and you lean forward to sort it for her whilst she gleams over your shoulder at nothing. You wonder if this is what it was like to meet your husband, butterflies and distractions from that moment on. It hadn’t happened yet for you, and seeing the way Lizzie was acting, you decided that you didn’t really want it happen, “Couldn’t take his eyes off you, sweet one.”

She squeals and wraps her arms around you, squeezing you slightly. You were happy that she was happy, and you wouldn’t take that away from her.

The door opened, revealing a blushed faced Harry due to the cold outside, “Ready?”

“YN!” Your mother calls from the floor below you, “Can you please come and set the table?”

You groan and remove your paintbrush from your canvas. The day prior you had been given a small sum of money from your Aunt Jemima after visiting and immediately gone to the store in town to pick up some new canvases. It was heaven to receive little amounts of money like these and you almost always spent it on canvases so you wouldn’t have to use paper, which was the cheaper alternative that you had to buy.

“I’m a little busy!” You call back, moving so that you can shout out of your door, “Can you ask Lizzie?”

“She isn’t here!” Your mother calls back and you groan. You place your palette down on the table beside you, as well as your brushes in the pot of water you had brought up with you. You wipe your hands on your apron before pulling it over your head and off your body. You drape it over your bed carefully, being careful to not get anything on the linen.

You bounce down the steps, tucking your hair that falls down in ringlets by the side of your face behind your ear. Entering the kitchen, you place a kiss to your mother’s cheek. She stands over the side, chopping some vegetables that she’s going to bring to boil for your dinner. She greets you with a smile and continues chopping.

“Is Lizzie with Harry?” You ask, placing the cutlery beside each mat on the table, noticing that there were four like there had started to be now.

“Of course she is.” Your mother shakes her head, “They’re always somewhere causing trouble.”

You had to suppress your grin. Lizzie had been the good girl of the family for so long, always doing everything that was asked of her and your were the one who tended to ignore requests so that you could continue doing whatever you wanted to. Since Lizzie had met Harry, that had been completely flipped upside down. You were the good girl of the family who did everything that was asked of you, and Lizzie was the one always getting out of doing things by sneaking off with Harry.

Since the two had met just over two months ago, they had been inseparable. When the two of you weren’t being taught how to read and write by your mother, Lizzie was always somewhere doing something with Harry. The other week he had taken her to the theatre and words couldn’t explain how jealous you were. You and Lizzie did everything together, and you always had done, but now you felt second best to someone who she hardly knew. You knew a part of you was jealous, but you would never admit that. What you did admit to yourself was that you were lonely and missing your sister.

“Is Harry staying for supper?” You ask, filling up the water jug to be placed upon the table.

“I’m guessing so.” Your mother says, moving to bend down by the fire to check on the meat, “It’s ready. Will you go get them? I think they’re by the river.”

You nod your head, moving to the front door to retrieve your shawl and boots. They were always at the river, as though it was there place. You couldn’t understand for the life of you why they’d chosen that place out of all, especially during the winter months. Snow was just around the corner and the two of them decided to spend their days moments away from catching a cold by the river.

The walk itself was five or so minutes through the woods behind your house, watching your step for fallen branches and wild animals. Lizzie was usually the one who brought you to the lake, so it was a given that you hadn’t been in a while.

Once the trees start to disperse, you stand in the middle of the opening to try and spot them. You do, quite quickly in fact. They’re stood by the water, picking up stones every now and then to skim across it, rippling the stillness with their movements. Skimming stones felt like a normal thing to see people doing, but once you watch Lizzie throw her arms around his neck, you feel like a little portion of you crumbles inside. You hadn’t seen them like this before, and you never ever wanted to see them like that again.

“Lizzie!” You call, snapping them out of their trance so that they turn to look at you. Lizzie immediately removes her arms from around Harry’s neck.

“Is there something wrong?”

“No.” You shake your head, “Mother just asked me to collect the two of you for supper.”

The two nod and move around where they were stood to collect their things but you don’t wait for them. Instead, you turn around and walk back towards the house. You can hear them laughing but you refuse to look back, because you know that you won’t be able to handle it. The temperature drops dramatically as you walk back, and you pull your shawl closer to you to help preserve some heat. You had a suspicion that at some point this evening it would start snowing, which you weren’t too unhappy about. It would give you time to finish the painting you started today, and hopefully create some more.

They aren’t close behind you as you reach the door, so you enter and immediately walk towards the table which is looking a lot fuller than it had been.

“Are they coming?” Your mother asks and you nod, sitting down at the table. They enter a few minutes later, Harry greeting your mother with a kiss on the cheek.

The three join you at the table, Harry next to you, Lizzie next to him and your mother sat next to the spare seat — where your father usually sat. You all join hands in saying grace, your hand feeling completely natural sat in his. The way his encompassed yours was something that will be etched into your brain for the rest of the day, and for the days after that. It isn’t a light hold either, it’s a prominent one, and his fingers squeeze yours tightly. You drop your eyes to your plate, unable to look up at him because you’re unsure of what his features may hold.

You don’t say anything over the dinner, you just listen to their words. It’s all about Harry’s time in London, like it usually was, and the rest about what the two had been up too. Your mother asks the dreaded question, and yet again, you ignore any word that comes out of their mouths.

It was inevitable at this point that Harry and Lizzie, at some point, were going to marry each other. You were surprised that Harry hadn’t proposed yet, if you were honest. If soulmates were a thing, no matter how much it pained you to believe, you wouldn’t be surprised if they were the example. You wouldn’t ever say anything to anyone about this, but you do think a part of you wished that was you in her place. You wished that you were the one that he smiled at, held hands with, kissed upon the cheek as she left.

After the dinner had finished, you had returned up to your room and lit your candle, leaning against the window frame to peer outside. They stood by the gate, Harry’s hand holding hers and her hand holding is. They looked as though they truly loved each other and what you expected to be a measly kiss on the cheek like it usually was, wasn’t that at all. A little part of you died inside when you saw him lean forward and place a kiss upon her lips, his hand lifting up to rest against her cheek. You managed to draw yourself away from the window after you’d watched for a while or so, slipping under your sheets and into your linen, turning so that you’re facing the wall. A few minutes or so later, you hear the door open and the rustling of clothes and you suspect Lizzie gets ready for bed. You try not cry but you can already feel the tears starting to fall down your face.

“YN.” You hear the soft whisper of your voice over the crackle of the candle that was still on in the room, “Are you awake?”

“Yes.” You manage out through the hesitation within your voice.

After a few seconds, and a slight giggles escaping her lips, “He kissed me, YN.”

“Oh.” You try not to sound like you’re upset, “Are you going to marry him?”

“He hasn’t asked me.” She’s quick to say, “But I think he might.”

A month or so later, you’re stood in front of a carriage, one that sits Lizzie inside on her way to Etiquette Lessons. Every young lady in the village had to go to them when they reached a certain age to make sure that they are properly prepared for how to look after their husbands when the day comes. You weren’t quite at the age yet, but Lizzie was.

You had given her a hug, and watched your mother kiss her cheeks and hug her, but you now found yourself watching something that you had seen so many times now. Harry and Lizzie stood by the door of the open carriage, her hands in his as they whisper and chuckle at whatever they’re talking about. You can’t hear what they say, but you can tell it’s emotional from the tears that are running down his face.

You mother wraps her arm around your shoulder, squeezing your shoulder. You wondered if she knew. You hadn’t said anything to her, but she always seemed to know what was going on in your life even if you hadn’t told her anything.

Harry helped Lizzie into the carriage, and closed the door for her before coming to stand next to you. Your eyes fluttered up to look at him for a second, but he didn’t even look anywhere near you, he was watching the carriage as it left. The love of his life was leaving in it, so I’m not surprised he did so.

“Mother.” You say quickly once the carriage had turn off the path, “Can I return and paint?”

“Of course you can.” She places a hand on one of your cheeks and a kiss to the other, “Take Harry with you. He’ll need the company.”

You turn to look at him, and he just shrugs, so you nod. You return back to the house with Harry trailing behind you, looking like a lost puppy. The way his eyes seemed to droop, as well as his hair, all hinted to the fact that he was actually upset that she was leaving. He follows you into the room, and sits on the end of Lizzie’s bed whilst you pulled your paints out of your drawer.

“I’ve only been in here once before.” He says after a few seconds, running his hand over the linen of her sheets, “You were out. Something about Aunt Jemima.”

“Oh.” You start to face place some of your paints upon your palette, “I read to her, sometimes, and she pays me so I can buy paints. I’m hoping that one day she’ll take me to Europe with her.”

“Europe?” He asks, “You want to go?”

“More than anything.” You sigh, swirling your brush in the green paint you had just placed upon your palette, “More specifically I’m hoping she takes me France. I’ll be able properly practice my art then.”

“Can you not do that here?”

You hesitate for a second, hovering your brush over the canvas slightly, “I’ll be better suited if I go there. People will care more about my work.”

“It’s beautiful work.” He says after a few seconds, “I don’t know how France would change that.”

You think for a second about how to explain this to him, “Think of it like Etiquette school. The girls go and return as better wives than if they hadn’t gone. They would’ve been good wives, but not as good without the school.”

“I don’t think I understand.”

“My art is good without France, just like the wives are without Etiquette class, but they are better with it. My art will be better with France.”

You turn around to see him nod his head, “I think I understand.”

“A part of it is also me wanting to leave this town.” You say, turning back around so that you can place your paintbrush back upon your canvas.

“I cannot fault you for that.” He says, and you turn to him again, only to see that he’s laid back upon the bed, a hand over his eyes, “Sometimes I wish I could leave.”

“Why don’t you?” You ask, “If one of us had the beings necessary to leave it would be you?”

“Beings necessary?” He pushes himself up on his elbow so that he’s looking directly at you, “And what would be those necessary beings?”

“Money, for one.” You say, moving so that you’re sat on your bed, looking straight at him, “Carriages. Knowledge of the world. The furthest I’ve ever gone is the neighbouring town and that was to drop something off for my mother.”

“Why don’t you leave then?”

You chuckle, raising your eyebrows, “I plan on it.”

“Ice Skating.” Harry says as he walks through your bedroom door, holding two pairs of ice skates in your hands.

“Harry!” You exclaim, placing your hand upon your chest at the shocked sight of him, “I could’ve been indecent and you would have never known!”

“But you aren’t.” He tips his head to the side, “Ice Skating. We’re going ice skating. The lake has frozen over and it’s perfect.”

“Are we now?” You ask, placing your palette down upon the table next to your easel, “Is Mr. Styles bored of his mansion.”

“I’m going to loose my mind.” He drops down on your sisters bed, the skates clattering to the floor as he does so, “Please come ice skating with me.”

“Harry.” You sigh, pulling your painting apron off, “I don’t even know how to ice skate.”

“Then I will teach you.” He says.

After a few seconds of contemplation, you nod your head, “I’ll do it if you let me paint you.”

“Deal.”

Over the past two weeks you and Harry had grown close. Not as close as Harry and your sister, but close enough for you to class him as one of your good friends. The two of you had started to do everything together, similarly to him and Lizzie but with some barriers. You hugged each other but you certainly weren’t as touchy deeply as they were with each other. You couldn’t do it to your sister, so you avoided doing anything that would be seen as wrong.

You did feel sorry for Harry. He had told you that he had sent three letters to Lizzie during this time and she hadn’t even replied to one. You weren’t quite sure why, but that was quite despicable on her part. The poor man was making himself sick with how much he was worrying about her, and you were the one who had seen it, and been the one to try and get him out of it. One of the things that you had begged him to let you do was paint him, but he kept rejecting your proposal. Instead, he told you that he liked to enjoy watching you paint rather than having you paint him.

You were excited to say the least that he had agreed to let you paint him, and you certainly weren’t going to miss that opportunity.

“Slow down.” You call to Harry, who’s around ten strides a head of you as you waddle your way with your dress in your hands through the snow, “I can’t keep up with you.”

“Walk faster then.” He says, turning to look at you with a grin across his face.

You groan and try to pick up the pace, nearly slipping a few times on some particularly icy parts of the ground but you make it to the lake in once piece. Harry passes you the skates he had picked up for you and you thank him for passing them to you. You kick your shoes off and fasten the skates, just as he does the same.

“Stay away from the middle.” He says, “It’s thinner than the edge.”

“I think you’re forgetting something.” You say as you try to stable yourself on the blades, “I have not idea what I’m doing.”

“It’s like walking, but on ice.” He deadpans and you resist the urge to roll your eyes, “I’ll let you hold my hand if you want.”

He holds his hand out and without really thinking you place your hand in his, allowing him to guide you onto the ice. His hand was cold, but so was yours, but having his in yours sent little flames across the entirety of your body.

At first you were unsteady on your feet, and you’re sure that you could’ve nearly broke Harry’s hand with how tightly you were squeezing it. He chuckled and made sure that you were continuously upright. After five minutes or so, you found the swing of what you were doing, and managed to move forward without any wobbles.

“I’m letting go of you.”

“No!” You exclaim, gripping his hand tighter so that he wouldn’t be able to pull away from you, “I’ll fall.”

“You won’t fall.” He chuckles, trying to pull his hand away again. “I will.” You shake your head, “Please, don’t.”

“You’re not going to fall.”

“I am.”

“You’re not.”

He somehow manages to release his hand from yours and skate backwards away from you, leaving you on your own. You hold your hands out, straightening them as though that’s going to help balance you out. With the little momentum you had left, you moved forward slightly until you came to a halt, where you pick up one of your feet to push forward and move forward. You manage to do it, without falling which surprises you.

“Harry!” You exclaimed, beaming at him, “I’m doing it.”

“I told you that you would.” He smiles, tilting his head to the side, “Shall we?”

“We shall.” You smile, and the two of you continue off across the ice.

Everything seems to be going well and good until you manage to catch your blade in a slit in the ice and go tumbling forward, going over on your ankle as you do so. You drop to the ground with a thud, a throbbing immediately falling upon your ankle.

“Harry. . .” His name escapes your lips through the the hiss of pain you let out.

“Are you injured?” He’s quick to ask, skating over to you as quickly as he possible could.

“My ankle.” You say, “I think I’ve sprained it.”

“You probably have.” He’s quick to say, “Lift up slightly, I’ll carry you back home.”

You shake your head, “You don’t have to do that.”

“What are you going to?” He laughs, “Crawl?”

“I might.”

“You wouldn’t make it home for Christmas.” He bends down, “Come here.”

You lift your hand up and wrap your hands around his neck, allowing him to place his hands underneath your knees. He looks at you with a small smile on his face and skates back to the edge of the lake, placing you on the floor for a second so that you could both remove your skates.

“How did you get so good at skating?” You ask, returning to your prior position his arms.

“Home.” He says, “In England. It’s cold year round there, and the lakes are often frozen. My mother taught me.”

“You don’t talk about you mother.”

“She died when I was young.” He says, not looking at you the way that he had been, “I don’t remember a lot about her.”

“I’m sorry.” You say, “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“You didn’t.” He shakes his head, “You were merely curious.”

You drop your eyes to the white around the two of you, “My mother says that my curiosity may get me in trouble one of these days.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” He chuckles, “But that’s something that makes you, you.”

Without really thinking, you say the next few words, “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t me.”

He shakes his head, “You don’t mean that.”

“I do.” You nod your head, “There’s nothing special about me. I’m no Lizzie YLN.”

“No.” He shakes his head, “You aren’t Lizzie, but you are YN. This world doesn’t need anymore Lizzie’s in it.”

“I thought maybe you’d have a thousands Lizzie’s if you could.”

“I wouldn’t need a thousand if I could have the one.”

“You do have you.”

He shakes his head, “I told her before she went that there was no need for Etiquette classes because to be my wife all I wanted was her. Lizzie wanted to go to get the best experience she possibly could.”

“You respected that?”

He looks directly over you again, “Why wouldn’t I?”

“We all know what actually happens at Etiquette classes, Harry.”

Harry only nods his head once, not saying anything else. He still carries you home, one of his arms rested comfortable under his knee whilst the other rests behind your back. You hoped you hadn’t offended him, but there was no way for you to know.

Etiquette classes, as a whole, were to teach young women the proper ways of being a wife during the day, and through the night thy would attend balls and such. The balls were so the women could hopefully meet eligible, rich men who they were hopefully going to marry. If you were already meant to marry someone else, it didn’t seem like a right thing to go to this place where the people were always after one thing.

As your feelings grew for Harry, you wondered whether Lizzie’s had diminished and that was why she decided to go to the classes. You certainly shouldn’t want that, but you couldn’t lie and say that a part of you did.

“Mrs. YLN?” You mother comes running towards the two of you at Harry’s call of her name, “We’ve had a little accident.”

“What have you done now?”

“I went over on my ankle.” You deadpan.

“Harry will you get me some ice?” He nodded and moved towards the kitchen whilst you mother freed your ankle and rested it upon her knee.

He came back with ice wrapped in a cloth and passed it to your mother who placed it upon your ankle.

“Thank you for bringing her home, Harry.”

“It’s no problem.”

“Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“I shouldn’t.” He shakes his head, “Thank you for the offer, though. But I should be returning home.”

“Pass my love onto your father.”

“I will.”

He throws you once last look, one that you can’t quite pinpoint the emotion of. After a few seconds he drops his eyes, and walks out of the door without looking back. You turn to look at your mother, who’s got a skeptical look upon her face as she looks at you.

“What is it?”

“Does he know?”

“Does he know what?”

A small smile crosses her lips, “That you love him.”

You lips part in shock before you clamp them shut, “I. . . I feel no such thing.”

“You had just lied to me, child.” She shakes her head, “I know love when I see it.”

“Mother.” You shake your head, “He loves Lizzie.”

“I know.” She places her hand upon your cheek, “You’ll be the one to pick up the pieces when she breaks his heart.”

Lizzie was due to return home today, on Christmas Eve of all days, and the house certainly looked as though it was ready for her.

You, your mother and Harry had spent quite a while this year decorating the house to be as Christmassy as possible. The thing that you still think about to this day was jumping on Harry’s back so he could lift you up to reach the star, your mother smiling as she watched the two of you.

The carriage returned at around midday. You were stood next to Harry at the end of the garden, with you mother next to him. The carriage came to a halt and the driver was the one to open the door, Lizzie immediately tumbling out and throwing her arms around your mother who had taken a few steps forward.

She didn’t look like Lizzie, in your opinion. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a tight bun, the dress upon her body looking more expensive than the ones that she had gone with. The material was a blushed pink colour, with fancy detailing upon the corset and a puffy skirt that was one of the biggest that you had ever seen in your life. Lizzie looks happy to see your mother to say the least, but you’re quite surprised when she moves to you next instead of Harry.

“Hello!” She throws her arms around your shoulder, placing her head on your shoulder whilst you placed yours on hers, the material of her fancy coat hitting your cheek. You hadn’t seen anything quite like it before, never mind felt anything quite like it before, “I’ve missed you so much. How are you?”

“Well, thank you.” You pull away. clearing your throat and wiping your hands upon your skirt slightly, “The same old. It’s you who I should be asking that question to.”

She smiles and pulls away, holding her small bag close to herself as she looks at the person stood next to you. Harry looks as though he’s about to cry, and so does Lizzie if you’re being brutally honest. The two of them needed to be alone, and you understood that. When your mother motioned you to follow her back into the house, you didn’t hesitate with your movements, following her back into the house.

“I feel as though dinner might be late tonight.” You mother says as she closes the door behind you, fumbling to take off her scarf, “I feel like they might be out there for a while. Why don’t you go up and finish your painting?”

You nod your head, not wanting to say anything. You remove your outdoor gear and race up the stairs. You know you shouldn’t, but you immediately run to the window to see whether you can see the two of them, but you’re unable to.

Lizzie looked like a different person, but she sounded like Lizzie when she opened her mouth. The clothes that she wore might have changed but she was still your sister, the same sister who had the man you loved following her around like a lost puppy. Lizzie was the same Lizzie as she always had been, and that meant that she probably did feel the same way about Harry as she did before she left. There was a selfish streak in you that wished that wasn’t the case, and she had completely forgot about her feelings for Harry and had met someone else, but until you properly had a conversation with the girl, you couldn’t be too sure that was the case. You couldn’t be sure either that if that had happened, Harry would want you in that way.

You found yourself unable to paint, so you dropped down upon your bed and sat with your back against the wall, watching the outside world as your thoughts danced around within your head. You found the thoughts spiralling through your head that you were still a young woman at the end of the day, one who could have a line of men wanting to marry you but you instead found yourself second best to your sister, and that shouldn’t be happening. No matter how much you loved the man, or had grown to be accustomed to his company, being second best wasn’t something that you had set your heart on being, and you wouldn’t be for him.

You were the first YLN he had met, yet he had chosen your sister first and he was going to lay in that bed now.

“YN!” You mother called from downstairs, “They’re here.”

Christmas Eve dinner, to say the least, was one that you’d never forget. Harry looked as though he was either going to burst out crying or kill someone at any moment, Lizzie looked exhausted and your mother and yourself were sat in the middle of the two of you trying to make ends meet of what had happened. Harry’s eyes caught yours once, but he was quick to flutter them away and take another forkful of vegetables and place it in his mouth.

“Lizzie, you haven’t told YN and I anything about your time away.” Your mother started, probably not the best topic of conversation but one that would split up the silence hopefully, “Did you enjoy yourself?”

“I did.” She wipes her mouth upon her napkin, “I had an amazing time. Met some amazing people. Actually, there is one person that I’ve invited for you to meet for the new year.”

“You have?” Your mother raises her eyebrow, “How wonderful.”

“His name is Theodore.”

That’s all it takes for Harry’s fork to clatter to the plate, his chair screech across the floor and his body to stand up.

“I’m, uh, truly sorry Mrs. YLN.” He says, “The meal was lovely but I’m not feeling very well so I think it’s best that I go home.”

“Are you alright?”

“I will be.” He nods his head, clearing his throat and scratching the back of his neck, “So sorry again, have an amazing Christmas.”

“You too, Harry.”

Once the doors closed, Lizzie’s the next person to drop her cutlery and sulk off upstairs. The slamming of the bedroom door shakes the whole house. You place another bit of potato into your mouth and slowly chew whilst looking at your mother.

She sighs, “Will you go check on your sister for me?”

“But—”

“You’ll get to see him later, don’t worry.” She says, “I’m going to plate him and his father some food. God knows they won’t eat without it, and you can take it over for me.”

You nod your head, taking a sip from your glass of water before standing up and making your way upstairs. You cam hear Lizzie’s cries before you open the door, and you know that its because of what had obviously happened before the two of them had come to lunch. You push the door open, to see her laid on her bed face down, her head deep within her pillow. You push the door closed behind you and back up until your back is directly placed upon the solid wood.

“Are you engaged to him?” You say, looking down at your shoes so that you don’t have to make eye contact with her.

You can hear the bed creek beneath her as she moves, but you still don’t look up, “To who?”

“To Theodore.”

“No.” You lift your eyes up just as she shakes her head, “I’m not.”

“But you want to be.”

“What makes you think that?”

You scoff and shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest, “You forget that I’m your sister, Lizzie. I know you better than you know yourself.”

After a few seconds, she speaks again, “He’s going to propose.”

“He is?” You take a few steps forward until you’re sat upon your bed, directly across from her, “Why, Lizzie?”

“We’re in love.” She quickly says, her eyes bulging out the way that they do when she starts to get upset, “When you’re in love, you get married YN.”

“I thought you were in love with Harry.”

“I love Harry.” She says, shaking her head, “But I’m not in love with him. I love him as a best friend.”

“He loves you.”

“I know.” She shakes her head, “I just didn’t love him the way I love Theodore. He’s just so kind, and so gentle and he makes me feel things that I just haven’t felt before.”

The way that she stands up immediately makes your mind immediately fall to a place that you know isn’t where it should be. Your eyes widen and she looks at you the exact way that you know that what you thought is right.

“Lizzie.” You voice comes out as a whisper, and you shake your head, “You didn’t.”

“I love him, YN.” She shakes her head, “And he loves me.”

“We always said we’d save that until marriage.” You shake your head, “You told me that’s what you have to do.”

She sits down on the bed next to you, reaching so that her hands are placed upon both of your shoulders, “And you do. Promise me you will, YN.”

“I will.” You quickly say, “I promise, I will.”

“Good.” She sighs, dropping her hands from your shoulders, “You will not end up like me, I won’t let you.”

“How have you ended up?”

She looks at you with tears in her eyes, “I think I’m pregnant, YN.”

You were holding a basket of food that your mother had collated for Harry and his father. You had knocked upon the door once and now you were stood, waiting for someone to open the door and let you in from the cold. The temperature had certainly dropped since you had been outside earlier, but you weren’t surprised at that fact.

“Miss. YLN.” Harry’s father opens the door. You’ve only ever met him once, and from what Harry has told you, he’s quite a cold man, “May I ask why you’re here?”

“Uh, my mother sent you and Harry some food over.” You say, holding up the basket within your hands, “I just came to deliver it.”

“Please.” He says, “Come in.”

You step through the threshold of the house, entering one that was three times the size of your own but just as empty as yours.

“I’ll take that to the kitchen for you.” He says, holding his hands out so you can place the basket within them, “H is upstairs, in the library. Third door on the left.”

“Thank you.”

The stairs themselves were probably bigger than your entire house, and as you ran your hand across the wood of the banister you couldn’t believe how expensive it felt beneath your fingers. You followed Mr. Styles’ instruction and walked along the grand hallway until you found the third door on the left. It was slightly ajar, so you placed your hand upon the wood and push it open, the door creaking as you did so.

Your mouth drops open at the sight of the room in front of you. When Mr. Styles said Library you thought it may have been a small room with bookshelves in it, but it wasn’t, it was a full library at the most. It was full of the most books you’ve ever seen anywhere, floor to ceiling bookshelves. You couldn’t help your want to run your fingers across every single cover.

You spot Harry sat at the window, his knees bent and a book placed open upon them. You cross your hands in front of you, taking a few steps towards Harry. The sound of your shoes against the wooden floor notifies Harry that you’re there, and he lifts his eyes to look at you.

“Are you okay?” He asks, closing the book that he had open.

You take a few more steps towards him, sitting at the opposite side of windowsill to him, “I should be asking you that question.”

He chuckles, lifting his leg up again so that it’s on the windowsill, “I’m okay.”

“I don’t believe that.” You shake your head, coping him so your feet are up also and you’re facing him, “Tell me truthfully. How are you?”

He shakes his head, dropping his eyes down to his knees, “She doesn’t want to marry me.”

“You asked?”

“Today.” He nods, looking back at you again, “I had a ring.”

After a few seconds you whisper, “Can I see it?”

“See what?”

“The ring.”

He opens his jacket and fumbles around in the inside pocket, bringing out a small blue velvet box which he throws towards you. You catch it, nearly dropping it but you manage to keep it in your hands. You raise your eyebrow at him and he offers a small smile, one that you knew wasn’t the most truthful of how he’s feeling.

You open the box and see a beautiful ring in the box. The ring itself was silver, but the thing that drew your and probably Harry to it was the gem. It looked to be diamond, not a large one at that but one that was a lovely sized. The light from the window caused the diamond to glimmer slightly, a gasp escaping from your lips.

“Harry.” You shake your head, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “It’s beautiful.”

“I thought so too.” He says, running his thumb across his bottom lip before shrugging his shoulders, “Lizzie didn’t think so.”

“It’s not because of you, Harry.” You quickly say, “Nothing to do with you.”

“It must’ve been, YN.” He says, “You’re sister doesn’t want to marry me. Me! Not anyone else.”

“She can’t marry you, Harry.” You say, the tears starting to collect in your eyes, “I don’t know whether if situations were different she would marry you, but in this situation it isn’t your fault. I can promise you that.”

You watch a tear fall down is cheek, “Has she met someone else?”

You look away, pursing your lips and closing your eyes to try and stop the tears from falling down your cheeks, “I’m so sorry, Harry.”

“Is it Theodore? Is she engaged to him?”

“She will be.” You say, standing up and moving so that you’re in front of him, placing your hand upon his knee, “I’m so sorry, Harry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“She’s my sister.”

“You’re not in charge of her.”

You reach forward and place your hand upon his cheek, using your thumb to delicately wipe the next year that falls out of his eye. His tilts his head slightly so that it’s nicely rested within your hand, and you smile at him, which his returns.

“Did she ever love me?”

“She did.” You say, nodding your head, “She loves you. She’s just not in love with you.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier.”

You shake your head, “I don’t think anything will at this point. You just need to wait, time will heal. I’ll be here for you.”

“I think.” He says, dropping his knees so that he can move closer to you, “I think you might be able to.”

“Whatever you need, H.” You say.

He moves closer, you can feel him closer to you, but you certainly hadn’t expected for him to place his lips upon yours. The kiss at first in gentle, his lips pressed against yours so gently that at the start you couldn’t quite feel him upon you. Then it’s more urgent, with his hand placed upon your cheek, his lips moving against yours at a quick pace.

“H.” You whisper, pulling away slightly as he removes his lips from yours, using them to dance down your cheek, to your jaw and then resting against the skin of your neck.

He removed his hand from your cheek and hooking it underneath your thigh so he can manoeuvre you to be on his lap.

This is the first time you’ve ever kissed a boy, and you can’t believe that the boy of all people is Harry Styles. You hadn’t been this close to anyone before, straddled across his lap with your knees each side of his waist, your skirt bunched up at your waist. The second you were comfortable, his lips attached to your again, his hands rested upon the small of your back. A feeling brewed within you, causing your hips to involuntary buck towards his. You felt him smile against your lips, and that was when you snapped out of the daze that you were in.

Without really thinking, you pulled away and clambered off of his lap. He looked flushed as you pulled away, his hair a little messy and his lips red from the kissing.

“No.” You hold your hand out at him, shaking your head, “You can’t do that.”

“Why not?” He said, standing up and taking a few steps towards you.

“Because. . . because you just can’t.” You shake your head, lifting your hands to run through your hair.

“I thought.” He looks at you quizzically, “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“Maybe I did, a little bit.” You say, shaking your head, “But you didn’t want it to be me. You wanted it to be Lizzie.”

“No.” He shakes his head, holding his hand out as if to touch yours, “I didn’t want that.”

“You did, I know you Harry, and you did.” You sniffle slightly, shaking your head, “I’m not Lizzie and I’ll never be Lizzie, and I’ve accepted that. You’ll never love me like you love Lizzie, and I know that. But, Harry, I won’t be second best. I don’t deserve to be second best.”

“You aren’t second best, YN!”

You can’t help but let out a small sob at his words, “I am, Harry. From the first day that we met each other, Lizzie came first. She was the one who you couldn’t bore your eyes away from, not me. I don’t think I had a full conversation with you until Lizzie left for her classes.”

“That’s not true, YN.” He shakes his head, “I swear to you, it isn’t.”

“I’m sorry, Harry.” You take a few steps back, “I won’t be second best.”

With that you turn away, leaving the house and leaving Harry. You couldn’t help the tears that fell as you walked across to your house.

You had made the decision that day that you weren’t to stay in America, that you were going to leave and you knew that Aunt Jemima was the person you knew would be able to help you with that.

Your Aunt Jemima was getting older, but before she died she wanted to go to Europe on last time, more specifically France. She had asked you years ago to be her companion on the trip, and you had agreed, but that was the last time you’d ever spoken to her about it. On Christmas day, you had been the one to bring the idea back up in conversation, dropping in little hints until Aunt Jemima picked up what you were saying. She had been the one to say that in the new year you were going and that you had to be ready to leave on January second with no complaints, not that you had any anywhere.

When Aunt Jemima’s carriage came, you said your farewell’s to your mother and you sister, and Theodore who had proposed to your sister the day prior — and left. As you sat in the carriage, you couldn’t help but look at Harry’s house, and you weren’t shocked to see him at the window watching your every move. You didn’t look away from the window until you could no longer see the house, when you turned to look straight in front of your, your gloved hands resting upon your knee.

“Forget him.” Aunt Jemima says, sighing slightly and shaking her head, “He isn’t right for you.”

“I have no idea what you are on about.” You shake your head, looking out of the small carriage window so that you don’t have to look at your Aunt.

“That Styles boy.” She says, and you immediately snap your eyes towards her, “Don’t think I don’t know about the two of you.”

“There isn’t anything to know.” You shake your head at her.

“There obviously is.” She says, “Or you wouldn’t be sulking the way that you are.”

“I’m not sulking.”

“I haven’t brought a liar with me have I ?” She asks, raising her eyebrow at you.

“You haven’t.” She shakes her head, “I am sulking, I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.” She says, pursing her lips, “Are you going to tell me about him, then?”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“You’re about to cry, my dear.” She flutters her eyes to you slightly, “I could sense your heartbreak from a mile away. He’s the reason you wanted to come, isn’t he?”

“I wanted to come.” You say, messing with your fingers that sat on your lap, “He just. . . gave me a reason to finally do it.”

“I think he’s the idiot in this situation.” She says after a few seconds and your lips part in shock, before you clamp them back together, “He’s the one who got involved with you and your sister. I wonder if he can even get out of bed.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well. First of all your sister broke his heart by not marrying him and marrying that other man, I’ve already forgotten his name.” She shakes her head, “Then you broke his heart by doing whatever you did when you went to go see him on Christmas Eve and you’ve been depressed ever since you left.”

“Who told you that?”

“Who do you think?” Aunt Jemima clicks her tongue and shakes her head, “My daughter told me. Wouldn’t stop crying saying that you’re leaving the love of your life and her other daughters pregnant by some pretentious nobody.”

You run your hand over your forehead, scrunching your face at the fact that everyone knew, “My mother knows too much.”

“Your mother just knows you.” Aunt Jemima shakes her head, “At least you haven’t ruined your life before it’s even begun, with a child of all things.”

“You’re just saying that because you never had children.”

“Why would I want an offspring of myself and some other man?”

“It’s about love, Aunt Jemima.” You can tell that you’re about to cry, so again you turn your head, “When you love someone, that’s something to bring that love into a being.”

“I just don’t see why.” She says, curling up her nose, “But then again, that’s why I’m seventy, unmarried and childless. Don’t think about the Styles boy too much. You’re going to a different country for heavens sake, think of all of the people that you’ll meet whilst you’re there. You’ll forget him soon, my dear, and he’ll forget you. That’s what we’ll hope for anyway.”

The tears do start to fall now, in quick streams down down your cheeks. You couldn’t stop them. Aunt Jemima, no matter how much you despised her sometimes, she certainly knew what she was talking about. You turned your head so that you were looking away from your aunt, looking out of the window and trying your hardest not to let any sobs fall out of your lips.

You did love Harry and if he had stopped your from getting into the carriage, your probably would. If he had asked to marry you, you probably would have said yes without any hesitation but at the same time you also felt as though you were second best, and that wasn’t a place that you ever thought you’d be.

No matter how much you loved him, and yearned to be with him, you knew for the sake of your sanity and for the sake of staying as a strong independent woman. You were taught from being young from your mother that no matter how many people try to say that all you were worth is more than just being the wife of some rich man. Your mother also said that you had a talent and that you had to use it.

France was going to be the place that you were going to use your talents, and be a better person for doing so.

Four Years Later

“Pierre.” You say, smiling at the man as he held his hand out to you, “Puis-je vous demander ce que vous faites?” May I ask what you’re doing?

“Je demande à la plus belle fille de la pièce de danser.” You can’t help the blush that falls across your cheeks. You nod your head and slip your hand into his, standing up and following him into the middle of the dance floor. I’m asking the most beautiful girl in the room to dance.

The music changes around them to one of the most popular songs in Paris to dance to. He lifts his arm up, just as you do to his, and start the movements in the same way that everyone else in the room had.

You had arrived in France with Aunt Jemima four years ago, fresh faced after the journey and ready to start your new life there. At first it took a while for you to get used to the new life that you now lived. Aunt Jemima’s French house, if it was even possible, was bigger that her house back home with more nooks and crannies to explore but more importantly, a bigger garden that you could paint every corner of. The main thing that you focused on during the first few months of your arrival was settling in and learning the language which you knew would be hard, but it was something that you needed to do.

Pierre was the person who had helped you do that.

Aunt Jemima had hired him to be your French tutor. She said that he was one of the best for you, and that he certainly was. You learnt the basics within the first few months until you were able to finally communicate with the people around you in their native language. At first, you despised Pierre and his pretentious way of making you feel small, but here you were, fours years later, dancing with him and waiting for his proposal at some point.

Aunt Jemima would be turning within her grave if she knew you were planning to marry Pierre. Even though she hired him when you first arrived to teach you, but she found him incompetent to do anything else. She could tell that you were falling for him, and told you multiple times to not settle for him but you were ignoring her.

If you listened to every one who your Aunt Jemima told you to not settle for, you’d never marry at all.

“Do you have plans tomorrow?” He asks, in English this time, his accent seeping through with every word that he spoke.

“Plans?” You raise your eyebrow, “To paint, yes, but I suppose I can clear my schedule.”

After learning the French language, that was when you had started your painting classes. You started taking everything in, listening to every single word the teacher said to you until you were good enough to start on your own. The first time one of your pieces was shown in an exhibit, people loved it, and you found yourself creating more and more works and creating more and more links with people around.

“Do.” He says, nodding his head, “Je veux t’emmener quelque part. Quelque part spécial.” I want to take you somewhere. Somewhere special.

You bite your lip, nodding your head whilst trying to suppress the large smile that’s ready to cross your entire face.

Pierre was a hopeless romantic, always showering you in large gestures that caused your heart to flutter within your chest. He hadn’t kissed you, and even though you knew that you knew deep down that you shouldn’t compare it, you found yourself not feeling the way that you did the last time you found yourself with a man.

At twenty-three you were late to get married, and if you ever wanted kids you would have to do so quicker than anything you had ever done in your life because you knew that your days were going to start become numbered.

“What time should I be ready?”

“I’ll pick you up at eleven.”

The song ends, your courtesy and he bows and that’s when you walk back towards the table you were sat at, picking up your glass of Champagne and taking a sip.

“YN.” You stop drinking immediately, nearly choking on the liquid that you had already started to sip. You know that voice anywhere, etched into your brain from when you were just a mere eighteen year old with a heart twice the size of the one you had now, “As I live and breathe.”

You turn around, immediately seeing a man that you had left years ago stood in front of you. He looked exactly the same as when you knew him all those years ago, except his features were a tad harder and his hair curler that it was before if it was even possible which you weren’t too sure about.

“Harry.” You swallow the lump in your throat, placing your glass down on the table and turning so that you were facing him, “It’s been a while.”

“It certainly has.” He says, lifting his own glass to his lips, “You look good. Happy.”

“I am.” You nod your head. You look at him, his eyes emptier that you had ever seen them before, not even when Lizzie refused to marry him, “I wish I could say the same for you, but. . .”

“I look exhausted.”

“You do.” You say, watching as his lips curled up into a smile as do yours, “How are you? Genuinely.”

“I’m. . .”

“Ma chérie.” You feel an arm slip around your waist, rest upon the small of it as he stands next to you, “Qui est-ce?” My darling. Who is this?

“Ah.” You brush a piece of your hair that had fallen out of place away from your face, “Pierre, this is Harry. Harry this is Pierre.”

Harry raises his eyebrows, lifting the glass to his lips to drink the rest of it. As you watch, it doesn’t seem to even hits the sides with how quickly he drinks it.

“Bonjour.” Pierre holds his hand out to Harry, “Comment allez vous?”

Harry looks at Pierre’s hand but he doesn’t shake it, and that’s when you lift your fingers to run against your forehead, “Are you two, marié?” Married.

“No.” You shake your head, stepping to the side slightly so that Pierre’s hand isn’t upon your waist anymore, “We are. . .”

“Courting.” Pierre’s quick to interject, “I think that’s what to call it.”

You watch as Harry’s eyebrows raise, and without saying anything to the two of you, he turns around and mutters, “I need another drink.”

As he walks away, you can see the slight stagger in his walk, one that many intoxicated people hold and you know that him being not himself treads deeper than just seeing you there today.

“YN.” Pierre places a hand upon your shoulder, “How do you know that man?”

“He’s someone from home.” You say, watching as Harry drinks another full glass of Champagne where he’s staggered off to, “He’s an old friend.”

He leans down until you can feel his breath at your ear, “Just a friend.”

You nod, leaning into him as he places a kiss to your neck, “Bien.” Good.

Since Pierre wasn’t picking you up until eleven, you decide that you have the time to at least start your next painting. In the garden of your Aunts house that you had inherited, you had built a gazebo with the money that you had made from selling your art pieces to exhibits that overlooked the garden and the pond from the four different directions that it had around it.

You had decided that the swans that swum in the pond were looking particularly delightful today and you decide that is the direction that you want to start your painting. You set up your easel and your canvas, as well as your paints that you brought on a palette and start figuring out the dimensions of the painting and what you wanted it to look like.

You hold up your paintbrush, closing one of your eyes as you move it from portrait to landscape and back again.

“You always were a perfectionist.” The paintbrush in your hand clatters you the ground as it slips through your fingers, due to you jumping. You weren’t expecting anyone to be here, and you certainly weren’t expecting to hear his voice.

“And you always had a tendency to shock people.” He laughs, his dress shoes hitting the decking with loud pats.

“My apologies.” He says, slipping one of his hands into the pocket of his trousers, taking another step closer to you, “I didn’t mean to shock you, love.”

You place your palette down, brushing your hands off slightly on your apron. You’d usually wear your comfortable clothes to paint in, the attire usually not even being a skirt but often trousers, but because you were meeting Pierre later, you knew that you had to dress up. It wasn’t the fanciest dress you owned, but the light blue material complimented your features in a way that you just couldn’t resist when you saw it in the shop.

“Yes you did.” You lips curl up into a smile, “You forget that I know you Harry, even after all these years.”

“Lots of things can change in four years, YN.”

“You haven’t.”

“You haven’t, either.” He smiles.

You tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear and take a step closer to him, clearing your throat slightly as you do so, “I want to apologise for last night. Pierre can be a little. . .”

“Intrusive.” Harry leans against the pillar nearest to him and you nod, knowing that is exactly what he is.

“I’m very sorry. I would have loved to have caught up with you.”

“I probably wouldn’t have been in the best frame of mind to do so.” He runs his fingers through his hair, “I was drunk, if you couldn’t tell.”

“I could.”

“Now.” He lifts his hand up and motions to the garden around you, “Are you going to tell me what I’ve missed in the last four years?”

“Uh.” You move so you’re stood next to him, leant against the barrier, “I moved with Aunt Jemima. This was her house but she died a year ago, if I remember correctly. She left me the house in her will, and I decided that I wanted to stay.”

“Have you been at home at all during the last four years?”

You nod your head, “I went home when Lizzie got married, that was when I met Anna for the first time. Then I went back for Aunt Jemima’s funeral because she decided she didn’t want to be buried here.”

“I must have missed you.” He says, “I spent a lot of the last four years in England with my grandparents.”

“Lizzie told me.” You say, “She said that she did invite you to the wedding but your father explained that you were in England.”

He nods his head, “I left a few months after you. I think my father was fed up of my moping.”

It shouldn’t have hurt you, but his words did. Your chest squeezed slightly at his words. Even though you knew you were doing what you were doing to benefit yourself, you couldn’t lie and say that you hadn’t missed him. You had lost a friend when you left, as well as your first love.

“Are you married?” You ask, not really knowing why the words escape from your lips in the way that they do.

He shakes his head, holding his hand up to reveal his completely ring free hand, “Nope. I can’t really say that I’ve been looking.”

“I’m sure you’ve had opportunities.” You say, “You’re the perfect gentlemen, Harry. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve had women queuing to marry you.”

He chuckles, scratching the back of his neck, “People have tried but I haven’t been interested.”

“Why not?”

“Some may say that I’m still hung up on somebody.” His eyes flutter away from yours, and you take it as the opportunity to look down at your hands, “But that doesn’t matter. What about you and Mr. Intrusive.”

You chuckle, lifting your eyes up to look at his, “He was my French language teacher. I didn’t like him, despised him to be fair but here were are a few years later and I think he’s going to propose to me later today.”

“Do you want to marry him?”

If you were asked this question but anybody else, you probably would have immediately said yes and that was enough for you to know that you should marry him. But seeing Harry stood there, the way that he is, waiting for you to answer what should be one of the easiest questions ever, reminds you that this may have gotten a lot more confusing now with Harry’s reappearance.

“I. . .” You hesitate and drop your eyes down to the ground again, “I think so.”

“You think?” He says, “I can’t say that I believe that you do if you only think that you want to marry him.”

“I do.” You say, quickly.

Harry stands up and takes a few steps towards the opposite end of the gazebo, “Do you love him?”

This answer, so it should be another one, was easy to answer, “No.”

“Then why are you marrying him.”

“I’m twenty-three, Harry.” You say, your heels tapping the wood as you move to stand next to him, looking at the pond in front of you, “I’m certainly not getting any younger. If I returned home to mother and father without a husband and children I believe they would disown me.”

“They wouldn’t.” He shakes his head, “They love you too much.”

“I’ve had three letters from them asking about grandchildren.” You deadpan, looking at him with a stoic look on their face.

“I’m sure they wouldn’t want to marry someone who you don’t love.” He says.

“If I don’t marry Pierre, who will I marry?”

After a few seconds, the smallest whispers escapes his lips, “You could marry me.”

The whole world seems to slow down around you, and you turn to look at him. He’s already looking at you, with those green eyes that you became so accustomed to all those years ago. You knew each other in all for three months, but you spent every second of every day with each other when Lizzie was away, and it certainly showed with how close you became. Marrying Harry could be the thing that you need, have always needed. You haven’t been as happy as you were when you were back him with him in a long time.

“Harry.” You say, the words coming out in a small whisper, “You can’t mean that.”

“I do.” He says, quickly to say the least, “I haven’t been more sure about anything in my life before.”

“Harry—”

“Madame.” One of the groundskeepers say, walking towards the two of you, “Monsieur Perney est là.” Mr. Perney is here.

“Merci, Alfred.” You clear your throat to try and mask the uncertainty in your voice, “Ça ne prendra qu’un seconde.” Thank you, Alfred. I will only be a second.

The man nods and walks away, and you turn back to look at Harry, who has the same look on his face as you do on yours. There’s a level of defeat between the two of you.

“I need to, um, go meet with Pierre.” You say, hands gripping the material of your dress.

“Is that a no?” He takes a step towards you.

You sigh, “It’s a, I have to think about it.”

He nods, “When will you know? This is probably a good time to tell you that I’m leaving tomorrow.”

That changed everything. It wasn’t as though now you had a few days to think through and make your decision, you had to make it quickly before he goes.

“Tomorrow?”

He nods, “Father’s ill. Paris was my last hooray before I go back home to be an adult.”

You take a few moments to think, “Will you be able to return back here this evening?”

“For you? Of course.” He says as though he doesn’t even have to think about it.

You nod your head and take a few steps towards him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Goodbye Harry.”

“I’ll see you later, love.”

“C’est une belle journée.” Pierre says as the two of you walk side by side around a park, the spring heat light upon your skin as you do so. It’s a beautiful day.

“It is.” You say, not being able to pull your eyes away from the ground below you.

You knew that you shouldn’t be thinking about this at all, that it wasn’t fair to Pierre, but all you could think about was Harry. You couldn’t get the look of his face out of your head as you kissed his cheek and walked away, as though he felt like that was it between the two of you. You were still unsure of the decision that you were going to make, but once you found yourself stood at the top of some steps, looking out at the park below, you knew that you were to make your decision sooner of later.

“Is something bothering you?”

“No.” You shake your head, finally lifting your eyes to look at his, “Everything is swell, thank you.”

“Good.” He takes a step closer so that his fingers are brushing yours, “YN?”

“Yes?”

“We’ve known each other for a long time.” He says, and the two of you turn so that you’re facing each other, his hands gripping yours, “A very long time, and I was wondering whether I could ask you something?”

“We have.” You know what the question is before the words have left his lips, and you’re already beginning to prepare yourself for what you’re going to hear the next time he open his lips, “And you can.”

He clears his throat and fumbles within his inside pocket, drawing out what you know is a ring box. He lets go of your hand which he was still holding with his free one and drops down to his knee, using his other hand to open the small box.

“YN YLN.” He sighs, “Ma chérie. Will you marry me?”

The same feeling that you felt before overcomes you, when the whole world around you seems to be moving in slow motion. He looks so happy, his cheeks lifting in a wide grin that you can’t seem to shake from your sight. You can’t even bring yourself to look at the ring he had chosen for you, because it was at that time, seeing him on his knee, that you know what your answer is.

“I’m so sorry, Pierre.” You slip your bottom lip between your teeth, “I don’t think I can.”

“What?” His whole face drops, and guilt starts to wash over you. He immediately stands up, looking at you with wide eyes, “No?”

You shake your head, “I’m so sorry, Pierre.”

“I thought that you wanted to marry me.” He shakes his head, “Comment ai je pu être si stupide?” How could I have been so stupid?

“You haven’t. I promise you, Pierre.” You reach your hand forward to touch his arm, but he moves away from you, not wanting you to touch him you suppose, “I did want to marry you.”

“What has changed?” You look at him with sad eyes, tears threatening to spill and you watch the realisation flutter across his features, “He has.”

You drop your head, lifting your hand to wipe away the tears that had started to spill, “I’m so sorry.”

“Who is he?” His features switch to angry ones next, and his voice deepens and it shocks you to say the least, “You have never mentioned him and now you will not marry me because of him?”

“He’s an old friend from hime, like I said.” You repeat your words from the party last night, “I haven’t seen him since I moved here.”

“Do you love him?” The words are quick to leave his lips and you once again drop your head, in shame if you are completely honest, “Do you? I want to hear you say it?”

“I do.” His hostile tone scared you into answering, “I always have.”

“Did you ever love me?”

You shake your head, the little movement causing him to throw you one of the worst looks you’ve ever seen in your life and stalk away from you. Tears stream down your face, and you know that you probably look the worst you’ve ever looked in your life at this given moment but you couldn’t care less. You thought that you’d feel worse than you do, but you you feel more relieved than anything. You feel bad that you’ve had to break his heart, but the idea of going back home with Harry, seeing your family and saying that he is the man that you’re going to marry was enough for your heart to burst with excitement.

In your opinion, you couldn’t return home quick enough. The second you return to the house you’re fluttering around as quickly as possible, packing all the belongings that you’d need immediately when you returned but you knew that you could get the rest of your belongings shipped in at a later date.

The evening rolled around quicker that you had imagined it would, but you supposed time went quickly when you’re packing to go across the world with the love of your life. When you hear the knock at your door, you race to open it, not caring what people think because all you want is to see him.

You throw the door open, and there he is, stood in the exact same suit that you’d seen him in earlier. He did look tireder then he did earlier, but if you had spent the day worrying you probably would’ve looked worse than he did.

“Come in.” You open the door wider, so that he can step in, “Please.”

He takes a few seconds to look around at the entrance way to the house, his lips parting at the sheer size of it as you did when you first arrived. Aunt Jemima was an odd woman, you couldn’t lie, but she certainly knew how to pick a lovely house. You’d probably sell it now that you were going back to America.

He looked around for a while before he noticed your pile of belongings in the corner, all packed away and ready to leave.

His eyes meet yours and he looks as though he’s going to cry at any given moment, “Really?”

You nod your head, “I want to marry you, Harry. Always have.”

He takes two steps forward and places his lips on yours, his hands falling to your cheeks. It sent you back to four years ago, stood in the library after you’d just kissed him. You couldn’t believe that he was back with you, kissing your lips in the way that you had yearned for him too for so many years.

He pulls away and rests his head upon yours with a sigh, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you. Ever since that day. I should’ve done more.”

“It was my fault.” You thread your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, “I shouldn’t have left. I should have sulked for a while but gone back to you. I missed you so terribly.”

“I know why you did it.” He says, pressing another quick kiss to your lips, “I shouldn’t have proposed to your sister when it was you who made me happy. I knew that I shouldn’t have the second I said it, and I’m sorry for that.”

“We’ll start a fresh.” You whisper, resting your forehead upon his, “Forget everything that happened four years ago and start fresh. I love you, Harry. I always have.”

“I love you too.”

You lean forward and place your lips on his again, his hands resting comfortably upon your waist. It felt so familiar for you to be in his arms, his lips upon yours. He was the only person you had ever kissed, and now he’d be the only person that you’d ever kiss, and you certainly weren’t complaining about that.

“You may now kiss the bride!”

Harry smiles at you, and you beam up at him before the two of you lean forward and kiss each other. Cheers and applause erupt around the two of you, as well as confetti and flowers being thrown across the two of you as you walk down the aisle.

You had arrived a few months ago from Paris, and immediately thrown into trying to nurse Harry’s father back to health, which didn’t go to plan. It was hard on Harry, but he had you and that was the most important thing to him. His Father gave you his blessing for the marriage, saying that it was the best thing he’d heard in a while. The funeral was a few weeks later, and the two of you decided to have the wedding two months afterwards.

The two of you were moving into Harry’s house, across the road from the house that your mother and father still lived in. You had so many plans for what you wanted to do to with the place, seeing as though it was way too big for the two of you to live in on your own.

It was your wedding night, and you were walking up towards the front door of the house when you felt Harry’s arm slipping under your thighs. You squeal as he picks you up, wrapping your arms around Harry’s neck. Giggling, you lean forward and place a kiss to his cheek, causing the dimples to show within his cheeks.

“I love you, husband.” You say, smiling as he places you down in the entry way.

“I love you too.” He leans forward and places a kiss to your lips, “Wife.”

It was as though the atmosphere within the room changed the second he said that word. His hands found your hips, resting on the material of your dress. You took a step backwards, causing you to press your back against the inside of the door, your lips immediately attacked by his. Your hips involuntarily buck up to Harry’s, causing a groan to escape from his lips. After a few seconds, he pulls away, kissing down your neck.

“Harry.” You whisper, feeling a moan ready to tumble from your lips at the feeling of his teeth grazing your neck, “Take me upstairs.”

“Are you sure?” You nod your head and he’s quick to pick you up again, this time carrying you over his shoulder. You squeal and grip his shoulders to steady yourself, “Better give my wife what she wants.”

Once you were up the stairs safely, he placed you down and connected your lips again. The first thing you did once your feet touched the ground again, you gripped the edge of his suit jacket and pushed it off his shoulders, listening to the material tumble to the ground and drop.

“Can I take your shirt off?” You mumble against his lips and he hums, allowing you to unbutton his shirt and shrugging that material off of his shoulders. This was the most you’d seen of Harry naked, and another human being at that.

“What about you?” He says, walking you both back until he’s sat on the bed, “Can I see you?”

“You’ll have to help.” You giggle, turning around. He starts to unbutton your dress, letting the material slip from your body into a pile upon the floor. He starts to unfasten your corset next, allowing that to slip from your body also. You were very exposed now, and you knew that, but the way that Harry looked at you sent all of your worries flying from your head.

He leaned back on his arms and clambered back into his lap, similarly to the way you had done all those years ago when you first kissed in the library of this very house. You wrapped your arms around his neck, just has his rested upon the exposed skin of your waist.

“YN?” You hum against his lips, “Can I make you feel good?”

You pull away and nod, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. It made you feel nervous that he was going to see you in the way that he was but this was Harry, your husband and the person you had wished to be touching you and near to the years that you had been apart. He helps remove the rest of your undergarments until you’re completely naked in front of him, laying and waiting for whatever he is going to do to you. He removes his trousers and underwear as you do so. There’s something about seeing him like that causes your hear to flutter and the rest of you to follow it.

He hovers over you, pressing another chaste kiss to your lips before moving down your neck and to your chest until he reaches your breasts, pressing kiss to the plushy skin around it until he wraps his lips around your nipple, lifting his hand up to pinch the other one between his fingers.

“Fuck, love.” He smiles up at you as you whither beneath him, feeling all of your senses heightened at the feeling of him on your skin.

He kisses down from your breasts to your stomach until his face is directly where you want it the most, where you’re literally throbbing for him. Without any warning, he leans forward and starts to attack your clit with his tongue, causing your hips to buck up from the bed and moans threatening to spill from your lips. Your hand drops to the top of his head, tugging at the curls that rest there. You’ve never felt like this, ever, in your life and you believe that if you feel it too much you will become accustomed to it. Your thighs try to clamp around his head but he stops you from doing so by gripping your thighs with his hands. After a particularly hard tug of his curls, a moan erupts from Harry and vibrates against your clit causing you to shudder.

He moved one of his hands up from your thigh to run over your wet slit, “Can I?”

“Please.” You’re quite embarrassed about how breathy it comes out but once he slips one of his fingers in, and a whine escapes his lips you can’t be bothered to care about the sounds that are leaving your lips.

“I need to stretch you out.” He says, curling his finger in you, “Can I?”

You nod your head, “Please.”

He pushes another finger into you, leaning his head back down to attack your clit again. He’s quite gentle with his tongue, using it to make a skilled attack on your clit, using it and his fingers to coax you closer and closer to the first ever orgasm you are to experience.

“Harry.” You whine his name and the feeling washes over you quicker than you had expected it too, but at the same time the man knew what he was doing and you to bring you to that peak. He continued to move his fingers and kitten lick at your clit until your thighs stop shaking. Once you have, he moves up your body again and kisses you.

“Good?”

“Really good.” You laugh, wrapping your arm around his neck, “I want to feel you, H.”

“Certain? Because we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I do.” You place your hand on his cheek, pecking his lips, “I want to.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

You smile, “It’s going to hurt whether we do it now or later. I want to.”

It’s uncomfortable to say the least, the feeling contrasting the one that you had felt earlier. You weren’t in a lot of pain, but it made it a little harder to feel the pleasure that you know you can feel from this act, Lizzie had told you plenty about it when you were younger. Harry grunted as he pushed into you, scrunching up his features. From the way that little groans and deep breaths escaped his lips, you knew that he was feeling an immense amount of pleasure.

“Feel good?” He grunts against your neck, pressing a small kiss to the skin as you smile, running your nails down his back. You knew that he was close, from the way he twitched inside of you, and your tried everything to coax it out of him.

“Feel so good, love.” He comes soon after his words, spilling into you and filling you up.

He collapses on top of you and you hold him close to you, pushing his curls off of his forehead that have stuck. You giggle as his pouts his lips, leaning down to play a kiss to them.

“I love you so much.” You smile.

“And I, you.” He pulls you close, “You were never second best, I hope you know that.”

“I do now.”

Three Years Later

“Mary.” You smile, placing your hand on the back of the little girls shoulder, “That looks beautiful.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Styles.” She says, continuing to add the green paint to her painting.

You and Harry figured out not that long after what do with the large house you had been left by his father. With your art and French skills, and Harry’s love for reading and slight knowledge of simple maths, you decided to convert the house into a school for the kids in the village. It was a place for them to come without having to worry and learn and focus on new skills.

At this point you had just finished one of your art classes and left the kids to let their creativity flow with some paper and paints, as well as pencils and other materials for them to use. You were making your way outside, smiling at the sight of Harry sat in the garden with a group of children sat around him, listening to every word he spoke as he read from a book.

The next thing you saw was your sister, stood with her husband and her children. You were surprised to see your little boy, Oscar, sat comfortably in her arms. The second he sees you, he’s making grabby arms in your direction.

He had just turned one and was now in a phase of not wanting to walk but be carried everywhere. He was certainly his father’s son, in more ways than one. He looked identical to his father, with green eyes and unruly brown curls and dimples, but he was also the exact same person as your husband, and if you thought it was a struggle to live with one Harry Styles, having an Oscar Styles as well was just as hard.

“Hi baby.” You pick him up and place him on your hip, his hand resting on your neck lovingly. From the way he drops his head to your shoulder, you can tell he’s almost ready for his nap. You smile and press a kiss to his cheek.

Harry comes over a few seconds later and kisses you on the lips briefly and places a kiss to Oscar’s cheeks. The two of you look over at what you have created for the kids around you and smile at each other.

“I’m glad I didn’t give up on you.”

“Me neither.” You smile, “I love you, mon chéri.”

“I love you too.”

Oscar looks up at the two of you with a pout on his lips, causing Harry to chuckle, “And we love you too, little man.”

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles smut fic #harry styles writing #harry styles au

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Much Cooler

Corpse Husband & Emma Langevin

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Platonic Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: There’s always a certain level of uncertainty when meeting someone you’ve only known online. There’s that sense of insecurity that your relationship with them will never be the same or - even worse - that their view of you might change for the worse. But there’s nothing more thrilling than seeing the person you’ve been talking to constantly for the past however long standing across from you.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request and I’m so terribly sorry for how late it’s coming out but I hope the fic makes it worth the wait! Lots of love, Vy ❤

“CORPSE! Wake up you famous dumbass!“ is the first thing the poor man heard over the phone at 9 AM on this fine Saturday morning.

It’s more than enough to make him contemplate why he even decided to pick it up in the first place considering he wouldn’t have been very able to participate in the conversation due to his sleepiness. He also, of course, made the mistake of not checking the caller ID which apparently wasn’t necessary considering how recognizable that voice and accent are.

“It’s 9 AM, Emma.“ He states as a tired parent would to a child, “I’m concerned as to why you’re up so early. More so as to why you’re calling me of all people.“

He can practically hear her roll her eyes but he still smirks to himself, knowing she can’t contradict him or argue since he’s completely right with his claims. “Whatever. Remind me to never call you to congratulate you on a milestone again.“

Now that pokes at his attention with a stick. Lately, said attention has proven to be a hibernating bear, leaving Corpse with a lack of interest or motivation for anything but damn if that sentence wasn’t enough to roll him out of bed and hop on PC. “What? What milestone? Subscribers?“

“Nope! You got two million likes on ‘E-girls are ruining my life’! I can’t believe I have to tell you this! Didn’t you notice the numbers climbing?!“ Emma, as annoyed and sarcastic as she’s trying to sound, she’s obviously overjoyed on his behalf and is super proud of him and of the project she luckily agreed to take a small part in.

As his PC boots up, Corpse can’t help but roll his eyes at Emma’s comment, “Well unlike you I have better things to do than refresh a page over and over aga-” His sentence is quickly cut off when he sees the number of likes under the song for himself.

Knowing that he’d find it there didn’t change the feeling of seeing it for the first time at all. It’s so surreal and so hard for his mind to comprehend. Seeing as how little he thinks of himself, his content and his art, this is like his success coming to slap him across the face as if to punctuate to him how wrong that mindset is.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt if you offered to take me out for at least a coffee to celebrate, bro.“ Emma comments sarcastically, joking only halfway from what he can sense.

He smirks, “Trying to even the playing field, I see.” He replies, referring to the fact that he’s still a faceless mystery to her while her face is literally the cover art for one of his songs.

She laughs but is quick to dismiss his claim, “Nah, I might be a curious and nosey little shit on other occasions, but other people’s privacy is not something I dig my nose into. However, if I were to even the playing field between us it wouldn’t be appearance-wise. More personality-wise. For my sake and yours I choose to believe you are way cooler in person than you are through messages or on a call.”

This withdraws a genuine fit of laughter from Corpse who throws his head back, a few strands of hair moving aside to reveal his shiny eyes, “Well then, instead of giving me the benefit of the doubt, how about we settle it once and for all? Tomorrow? I’ll text you the location.”

Emma’s eyebrows shoot upwards as soon as she comprehends his words and the tone that leaves no room for her to assume he’s joking, “Wait what? How come you’re agreeing to this? And so easily? Nah, this a trap if I’ve ever seen it.”

Corpse laughs yet again, “No trap, Em. I just can’t have you doubting my coolness.”

* * *

The main reason as to why Corpse requested for this meeting to be today is because he feared that if he had more than twenty four hours to dwell on it he’d chicken out. Little did he know it was the same for Emma. Their friendship has only ever existed with the bridge of social media connecting them and they both can’t help but fear the other might not like who they are IRL. They fear they unintentionally become a different person or change things about themselves subconsciously when communicating with people online. Bottom line, they’re scared of letting the other person down with who they really are, unaware that their personalities are most likely the exact same because, as the people who know them can confirm, neither Corpse nor Emma are the type to put on a show in order to be liked. They would rather have no friends because of who they are than have friends and fans of their persona instead of the real them.

And so, while slightly afraid and anxious about this meeting, both of them see it as a relief test to see if the friendship is in fact as real as it’s seemed these past months.

Corpse was the one to choose the location of their meet-up, a location Emma didn’t even think twice about agreeing on, and ever since, they’ve both been counting the hours until their scheduled meeting time. It’s not about impressing each other, at least that’s what they’re both telling themselves, but rather proving to the other that they’re worthy of their friendship. They might throw snarky and sarcastic comments at one another that others would give a side-eye glance to and question if their friendship is real, but they know the dynamic best and they sure as hell don’t wanna lose it or each other.

Best friends are the ones who roast each other after all - you can’t tell me I’m wrong.

The nervous Corpse fidgets with the insides of his hoodie pockets as he waits outside the café, having arrived ten minutes early because he couldn’t stand being alone with his thoughts in his apartment, judging every fragment of himself twice as harshly as usual. Emma, on the other hand, could barely bring herself to leave her home. She kept retouching her appearance, despite knowing Corpse wouldn’t judge her even if she showed up in pjs. To be fair she contemplated doing just that several times because her hair pissed her off enough to get her discouraged on her outfit altogether but she did eventually talk herself into pulling it together. She already knew she’d be at least five minutes late, but once again, she knew Corpse wouldn’t care.

He’d wait, cause that’s the kind of friend he was. Cause that’s the kind of friend she was for him too.

And boy did it take her less than a second to recognize him. She wasn’t even out of the car when she saw him and knew it was exactly who she was looking for. He too, as if with a sixth sense that registered her presence, shoots his head up from his phone to look up at her, their gazes meeting. There’s a brief moment of close-to-shocked silence, their eyes a bit widened as their brains comprehend that they’re within arm’s reach of one another.

That’s when Emma’s the first to break the bubble of awe as a wide grin spreads across her face and she runs to Corpse, wrapping him in a hug before he’s even realized the distance between the two’s been closed.

“Hey.“ She mumbles, her face hidden in his hoodie due to the height difference.

“H-hey.“ He replies, hesitantly wrapping his arms around her too.

“I was right.“ She says once she pulls away, “You are much cooler face-to-face.“ She pauses for a second, narrowing her eyes, “You’d be even cooler if you bought me coffee though.“

Earning a laugh from him, she’s guided into the café by the arm Corpse wraps around her shoulders, telling her he’s get her a milkshake cause he doesn’t want to see her high on caffeine. Needless to say, they both are, indeed, much cooler to one another IRL.

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anenbylittlepotato · 3 years

Note

After you finish your personal project, can I request headcanons for the brothers in om with an MC who, one day just goes up to them, showcase a Bob-Ross level painting to them and with a proud grin says "Praise me."

Sure thing, I can do that!

The Bros React to Artist MC Showing Them a Painting and Saying "Praise me."

Lucifer

He's sitting in his office working when you excitedly run in holding a canvas, facing you so he can't see it yet.

When he sees you, he looks up and raises an eyebrow.

"Hello, MC. Can I help you?"

You grin and turn the canvas around, it reveals a painting of a gorgeous landscape, worthy of Bob Ross himself. He's quite impressed by it.

Then you say, "Praise me," he can't help but chuckle a little.

He sighs and shakes his head.

"You want me to praise you? Alright. Good job."

He refuses to give you any more than that, just because of your audacity. Dick

Mammon

At one of the rare moments where Mammon isn't glued to you at the hip, he's sitting in his room, on his D.D.D. as he tries to work up another money-making scheme when you open the door and run over to him excitedly.

When he notices you, he glances up and grins.

"What's up, MC? Come to see the Great Mammon? Guess you can't stand to be away from me for long, can ya? Guess I can't really blame ya for that, huh?"

When you turn the canvas around to show him, he is s h o o k

How the fu-

He looks surprised when you say, "Praise me."

"Ya want me to praise ya? Well, ya did alright, I guess. But, just so ya know, I could have done better! Really! I could have! Hey, don't give me that look, MC, I'm bein' serious here!"

He continues finding mildly rude ways to praise you. And continues saying he could have done better, even though we all know he can barely draw stick figures.

Leviathan

He's in his room watching anime when you come and say the secret password to get into his room. You walk up to him excitedly, holding the canvas.

When he notices you just standing beside him and watching him, he looks up.

"Uhhh... M....C...? Did you just come in here to stand there and stare at me? Ugh, and normies call otakus weird."

When you turn the painting around to show him he's VERY impressed. Holy crap, MC!

Then, you say "Praise me," and he's shook.

"What? Do you really want a gross, yucky otaku like me to praise you? I- I mean it is really good! It's amazing, actually!"

He continues his self-deprecation spiel while still simultaneously complimenting your work. He also secretly wonders if he could get you to paint some of his favorite scenes in anime.

Satan

Satan's chilling in the library when you run up to him holding the canvas

When he notices you, he looks up and smiles at you softly.

"Oh hello, MC. What's that you've got there?"

You turn the canvas around to show him and his eyes widen slightly in surprise at the gorgeous painting.

He's jolted out of his little trance when you say, "Praise me." He can't help but laugh at that.

"You didn't strike me as the type to have an ego like that, MC. I can praise you if you want. It's a beautiful painting. You certainly did a good job."

He asks if you'd be willing to hang that up somewhere in the house so he can look at it from time to time. He really does like your painting and he certainly has an appreciation for the arts.

Asmodeus

Asmo is in his room painting his nails when you open the door and walk over to him.

He notices you when he finishes his last nail and looks up to smile at you sweetly.

"Hello, darling, how are you? Did you come to admire my beautiful face~?"

Then you turn the painting and he's very surprised- and impressed!

Then you say, "Praise me," and he giggles at your boldness.

"Aww, you are just so cute~! Do you need my validation that badly? Don't worry, darling, I would have praised you anyway! You're very talented and your painting is beautiful! Just like you- but not as beautiful as me of course!"

He continues to showers you with compliments and wonders if you could use those talents of yours to do makeup.

Beelzebub

He's busy rummaging through the fridge when you approach him holding your canvas.

He doesn't notice you until he pulls his head out of the fridge holding a tub of custard. He looks over at you, a little surprised.

"Oh. MC, I didn't see you there. Are you hungry too? Do you want to share some of this custard with me?"

When you turn the canvas around to show him, he blinks in surprise.

He opens his mouth, already about to compliment your work when you say, "Praise me." He lets out a small chuckle at that, giving you that puppy dog smile that makes your heart just melt.

"You didn't need to say that, MC, I would have praised you anyway. You did really good. You're so talented."

He then asks again if you want to share the custard and either way he'll sit down to eat. He's hungy boi.

Belphegor

Belphie's just waking from a nap in the attic when you run up to him excitedly.

He looks over at you as he stretches and yawns.

"Oh, hey, MC. I just woke up from a really great nap. You should join me next time."

When you show him your painting, he blinks a little. He didn't know you were an artist.

Then you say, "Praise me," and he just gives a lazy and shit-eating grin.

"Wow, I didn't think you were the type to beg for praise like that, MC. I mean it is pretty impressive, but now I feel inclined to do the exact opposite of what you said."

Bully >:( However, he does wonder if he could use your artistic ability to torment Lucifer. Hey, could you paint him some dumb pictures of Lucifer-

Haha, so fun story, the thing I wanna write is taking a lot longer than expected, so I'm just gonna go ahead and work on the requests I have. And I WON'T forget to add it to my masterlist this time.

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me headcanons #obey me writing

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polnareffenjoyer · 3 years

Note

Uh unsure how many characters you’re willing to write for but can I have the SDC crew reacting to seeing their crush’s sketchbook filled with drawings and silly comics of them? On the case you do have a limit on how many, then I’m fine with either Polnareff, Kakoyin, Jotaro or Avdol (who can pick whoever if you want to!) Hope you’re having a lovely day!💕💕

This is such a cute idea anon, hope you like it. Also I don't really have a character limit, I wanted to do all of the crusaders but then I got tired and it already took me such a long time to finish it and ahhh. Sorry for all the grammatical errors, English is not my first language and it's already so late when I'm finishing it and it's just bleh. I hope you like it anyways, sending much love to you anon! ♥️

Stardust Crusaders finding their crushes' sketchbook

Jotaro Kujo

He notices that you've been spending most of your free time drawing in that sketchbook of yours. Truth be told, it bothers him a lot. Jotaro has had a big fat crush on you for a while now, and he secretly longs for your company. He can't admit that tho, he has a hard ass bad boy reputation to maintain after all. What would people say if the saw him all flustered for a girl? The fact that you would rather sit by yourself and draw than be around him and the others bugs him. So one day, when you're busy with something else, he takes your beloved sketchbook and decides to see what's in there. He knows he's being creepy, but he couldn't care less. Just trying to get to know you better, without actually talking to you. Exactly.

He's very flustered but would rather die than admit it. Has read through all of it, admiring every single little drawing. After he's done, he'll just put it back where he found it, it the exact same place just so you don't notice someone has been messing with it. You probably have no idea he had seen your sketchbook at first, but you surely notice the blush dusting his cheeks whenever he speaks to you from that day on. Probably avoids you for a little while because he's so flustered.

The rest of the crew also notices something is off, Jotaro is always lost in thoughts and smokes more frequently. He can't keep himself from thinking about those cute drawings of yours, reading through your comics was a true delight. It fills him with glee to know that HE, among all of the crusaders, is the one who's the main character in your stories. It makes him giddy on the inside.

His secret eventually comes to light one night, he accidentally admits to having read through your comics while a late night talk between the whole group. While you were talking, Kakyoin had brought up the topic of your sketchbook. Now it's your turn to be embarassed, blushing crimson while trying to get as much information out of him as possible. How much did he see? Did he read through ALL OF THEM?

The rest of the crusaders are shocked at first, but quickly they start to laugh at the scene. Jotaro is reluctant to give any information, but he eventually tells you that yes, indeed, he's seen EVERYTHING. However, doesn't admit what the content of the sketchbook really is. Despite everything, he would never embarass you like that.

After everyone goes to sleep, you catch Jotaro before he has a chance to fall asleep, lying on his sleeping bag while looking at the night sky. You want to apologize, say anything, just to talk to him, but you're unable to find right words. He just sighs.

"Yare yare daze, there's no need to be embarassed [Y/N], I'm not mad"

Your eyes light up at his words. You want to say something, anything, thank him, but before you get a chance to do so, Jotaro's deep voice cuts you off.

"To be honest, I think your drawings are amazing. I really liked them" you notice his face is slightly tinted red from underneath his cap "But if you wanted me to model for you, you could've just said so"

With that, he rolls over and away from you. Completely baboozled, you roll over as well and try to sleep, or at least pretend to be asleep. Honestly, neither of you had slept much that night.

Kakyoin Noriaki

Kakyoin had a thing for you since you joined the crusaders, and your sketchbook is probably the very first thing he had noticed about you. He's always been interested in art, his parents had signed him up to numerous art courses and whatnot through his life. He's always loved drawing and painting, using it as an escape from his daily problems, and seeing that you two might have something in common makes him incredibly happy, especially since he has feelings for you.

He'll try to approach you about your sketchbook very subtely, afraid that he might scare you away by being too pushy. Of course you get extremely flustered everytime he brings it up, but it doesn't discourage him. Kakyoin respects your boundaries and understands that you might not be ready to show him your drawings yet. Despite that, he's always willing to share his knowledge with you. He'll give you advices about proper shading while you two are waiting in the hotel lobby for the rest of the group to finish up picking rooms. During a long car ride, he'll talk to you about his favourite artists. If you want him to show you how to put certain shading techniques into practice, he'll be more than happy to do so. He'll just pick a random piece of paper and start drawing on it, you might want to lean in closer and maybe put your head on his shoulder to get a better look? He has no objections! Just sayin.

When he eventually gets to see your sketchbook, this man is so honored! He didn't mean to look, at first he though it was just some book lying around and wanted to take a look inside, out off boredom. Once he realizes what he's reading at, his face flushes with crimson. Your sketchbook is filled with sketches of him? This whole time you were actually drawing him, out of all people? He couldn't be more grateful that no one else was around, if someone saw him reading through your comics with this stupid smile on his face and red cheeks, they would've though he went mad.

Kakyoin wastes no time trying to find you. For a moment, he thinks that perhaps he should've waited a bit, just to get you alone and not embarass you infront of the whole crew. He can't think straight though, his mind filled with your cute little drawings, with his face drawn with black pen over and over again. With glee, he notes that you had used the very techniques he had told you about earlier. If you had drawn him so many times, does it mean that you have a crush on him too? It's too good to be true.

"[Y/N]! Can I talk with you for a minute?"

He goes to confront you immediately. Others give him a puzzled look, but he couldn't care less. He grabs your arms and leads you away.

"Don't be mad [Y/N], but I've seen your sketchbook and I have to say, I think your art is beyond amazing!"

You're at loss of words, your face red and you could swear that you've never felt so embarassed in your whole entire life. However, his reaction is making you feel a bit better. He's not mad, nor is he making fun of you. If anything, he seems enamoured.

"Please, [Y/N], we should draw together! Maybe next time we have a chance, I should paint your portrait?"

Despite the awkwardness, the whole situation turns out amazing in the end. How he's sure you must have feelings for him, and it makes him incredibly happy, hoping that one day, after your crusade is done, he'll get a chance to repay you and make that promised portrait.

Muhammad Avdol

With everything that's been happening lately, Avdol gets a little bit distracted from you. Before he would steal glances your way all the time, watching with curiosity as you would draw something in your sketchbook. Recently, he's been too busy fighting enemy stand users and... well, trying not to die. He still cares about you a lot and watches over you during fights, ready to shield you from danger with his own body, if it's what it takes to keep you safe.

It probably happens because of a mishap. While you are deciding on your rooming, you leave your sketchbook lying next to Avdol's things and go to the bathroom. After he's done helping Joseph with translating and getting everything done, he goes back and assumes that it's just one of his books that has fallen out of the bag. Not thinking much of it, he picks it up and leaves with Mrs Joestar to settle in their shared room.

You can imagine the panic and shock that nearly paralyzes you once you notice that your beloved sketchbook is gone, nowhere to be seen, reduced to atoms! You begin to look around frantically, looking under the furniture while sweating profusely. Other quests give you weird looks, but you don't even notice them staring. Polnareff is one of them, he asks if you're okay and tries to calm you down, but to no avail. After he leaves, you try to focus really hard and try to remember - when did you see it last time? It was on that chair for sure when you left. God, you can only pray that it doesn't end up in Avdol's hands somehow...

Meanwhile, Avdol is getting ready for shower and goes through his bag. He notices the book he picked up from the lobby isn't even a book, but a sketchbook! Now he's sure he must've picked it up by mistake, he decides it would be best to put it down and not look through it. It's someone's very personal art after all, it would be very disrespectful to - wait a damn minute, is that HIM?

Long story short, he goes through a good portion of your drawings before Joseph comes out of the shower and gives him a puzzled look, seeing how his eyes are literally shinning with adoration. He puts your sketchbook back into his bag, acting as if nothing happened and continues on with his nightly routine. Later on, when Joseph is already fast asleep, he contemplates about whether or not he should go to your room right now and ask about the sketchbook he had found. He's already suspecting it's yours, whose else would it be? He has seen you drawing often, could it be that you returned his feelings and had spent your time sketching him? Ultimately, he decides to wait until tomorrow to find out.

The very next day, he knocks on your door early in the morning. It startles you awake, running up to your door to look through a peephole, seeing a muscular man on the other side. Sighing heavily, you unlock the door and open it just a little bit.

"Excuse my intrusion, [Y/N], but I have found something that I think belongs to you."

Now that's embarassing. You see your sketchbook in his hand, a wide, knowing smile on his face. He knows it's yours. All it took is one look at your stupid red face to figure it out. God, he can read you like an open book, can't he? While you reach out to take it from him, your fingers touch just slightly.

"Don't worry, I swear I won't tell anyone about this" she winked at you, which almost made you gasp "If anything, I think I should maybe pose for you in private? So you can get a better look? You should think about it..."

Who would've thought this man could be such a flirt sometimes...

Jean Pierre Polnareff

You better watch out, because if this man has a crush on you, you bet he would go above and beyond to find out what's inside that sketchbook. I'm not joking. He forgets what personal space is, he's even worse that Jotaro, because while JoJo would make sure to be sneaky, Polnareff wouldn't even bother. He'll try to catch a sneak peak by looking over your shoulder while you're drawing, constantly asking you questions about art related things, everything always leading to your sketchbook.

He wants to know what's inside. Simple as that. You're like an enigma to him, I feel like all women are mysteries to him and he always works towards finding out what their secrets are. You are especially interesting to him, because of how secretive you are with your art. He's captivated, and while he never had any interest in arts himself, he had always fancied himself as a man with a great sense of beauty. That being said, he's always trying to get your attention while talking about how "France is a wonderful country for artists! You should come and visit after our crusade is over, [Y/N]! I'll show you all the greatest museums and art galleries!"

He's like a puppy, following you around and being just a bit too pushy. If you tell him you feel uncomfortable, he'll back off of course. He's not just some juvenile pervert after all! He's a honourable man who would never touch or bother a woman without her permission, no matter how desperate he seems sometimes.

When he finally sees your sketchbook, it's probably because he did it on purpose and not because of an accident. He wanted to make sure that it was him your were capturing in your drawing, and boy was he happy when he saw what's inside! It's all him, cute little sketches, little comics, it's better that he could've ever imagined! He's literally crying the tears of joy while reading them. Before it was all just wishful thinking, but now it turns out to be true! He's honoured, admiring every single little drawing with hit tears streaming down his face. He must look pathetic right now, if anyone was around they would think the was a mad man. He gets up and runs away with your sketchbook in his hand, trying to find you.

"[Y/N]! Ma cherie! Mon coeur! My love, my life! We need to talk!"

Did i mention that he doesn't shy away from nicknames? Yeah.

It's probably the worst confrontation compared to the rest of them, he's not subtle like Kakyoin and decides to talk with you about your drawings right then and there, in front of everyone. At first they're surprised, looking at Polnareff as is he was crazy, but slowly their shock is replaced with amusement. Joseph doesn't even try to hold back his laughter, while the rest of the crew is trying to keep it cool as not to embarass you any further while the Frenchman is just going on and on with his declarations of undying love. It's a bit dramatic, one of these moments that you will probably laugh about in the future, but you felt like disappearing right then and there.

"Your drawing are magnifique! [Y/N], my love, if you wanted to draw me, you could've just said so! Although I don't think I deserve to be potrayed by you, to be drawn by your skilled hands, ma cherie!"

You snatch the sketchbook from him. After that incident you probably try to avoid him, but he won't give up! He's more determined than ever, knowing that you feel the same way as he does fills him with hope, hope for a future life with you that is! He won't give up until he makes you the happiest woman on earth.

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba x reader #jjba x you #stardust crusaders #jotaro kujo #noriaki kakyoin #muhammad avdol #jean pierre polnareff #jotaro x reader #jjba imagines #stardust crusaders imagines #kakyoin imagine #polnareff x reader #avdol x reader #jjba headcanons #first request done!

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eveenstar · 3 years

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𝐘𝐨𝐮, 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞. ||𝐏𝐫𝐞-𝐄𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐲! 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐲 "𝐉𝐞𝐝 𝐎𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐧" 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫||

❥ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪ: ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʜᴏᴛᴏɢʀᴀᴘʜᴇʀ

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: On the first days of spring, your friend Holly set you up with a nice photographer at the park. In the beginning, everything was normal, until you began to notice a shadow following you everywhere, and it wasn't your own.

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜/𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: Reader uses she/her pronouns, sorry about that! Stalkish behavior in the end.

𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎: Hello! First chapter of another fanfic, inspired by the YOU tv series. This also happens in the modern era. Lemme say this chapter alone took days to write because my inspiration lately has been the worse. Hope y'all enjoy! ♡

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: (If you wish to be tagged, please tell me!)

"C'mon Holly, losen up a bit. I know it's gonna go great tomorrow." You rolled your eyes as your friend sighed, but you didn't find the situation weird at all.

"I just...imagine how awkward it'll be if I purpose to Camilla at the same time she does it."

You pointed to a nice seat under a tree after you two finished paying for the ice creams. It was a nice day at the park, spring was finally here, and all of the warm and winter outfits were thrown inside the wardrobe.

"Look, (Y/N), I don't want to be that person, but..." You gaze over to Holly. "Look at that photographer over there."

Your eyes stopped on a handsome man, focused on his camera and the mother nature around him, like he was in harmony with it. His slightly wavy brown hair had threads falling to his face as the photographer kneeled in front of some flowers, camera in action. The stranger was wearing a casual shirt with blue jeans, which wasn't the stereotypical outfit you'd imagine for a photographer.

"Your type." Holly blankly said, looking back at you.

"Holly please," You rolled your eyes playfully, eating your ice-cream before it melted in your hands. You don't want that kind of accident again. "I forgot my book of cheeky flirt lines."

Determined, Holly got up and didn't even glance twice in your direction, so you knew what she was about to do. Wrapped up in her crazy idea of getting you with someone, she strolled her way in the direction of the dreamy photographer, who was still taking pictures of the pretty white flowers.

You chuckled, not even bothering to stop her since it wouldn't change anything. Once something got into Holly-Marie Monroe's head, nothing, and by all means, nothing would stop her.

"I'm sorry-hi, excuse me," Politely chuckling, she touched the man's shoulder to get his attention. He turned around, clearly confused by the interaction. Probably thought this strange woman was going to ask to have a picture of her taken. "My friend over there, (Y/N)," Holly points at you, and you awkwardly wave, "She'd love to meet you. Photography is totally her deal, she finds it an art. What'cha think?"

"Yeah, sure." Okay, not so bad, he smiled. A polite smile, but it counts, right?

Holly rushedly waved for you to come to them, which you did, mouthing a silent 'sorry' to him without your friend noticing. You looked up to meet his eyes, amber brown eyes to be more exact. You were actually expecting them to be darker, but no, they were light amber eyes. With a soft tune added to them.

"Hi, (Y/N) (L/N)." You said, a small smile forming in the corner of your lips. "But Holly already told you that."

The man nodded, gazing over to your eyes as well.

"Danny 'dreamy photographer' Johnson." He winked, placing his camera somewhere on his bag.

"Okay, I'd hate to be a third wheel soooo...I'll go get more ice-cream!" Holly whispered, moving further from you two after giving you a thumbs up from far. You sighed.

"That's a nice friend you've got there." Danny looked back at you, eyebrow raised.

"Heh, she loves to do this. I was the one that set her up with her now bride to-be girlfriend, so she felt like this is her obligation to me." You explained, shrouging your shoulders. Yes, in fact, Holly made it her life goal to set you up with someone, because apparently she doesn't want you to be the single person of the group. Well, you still have your other friend Rose to be single with.

Danny was still gazing at you with his smirk on. He chuckled.

"Hey, what do you think about sitting right in the middle of those flowers right there," You looked to the flowers, pink Begonia flowers, and shyly took a seat in the middle of them, careful not to mess with your outfit. "And let the master do his magic." He winked at you again, smirking.

Of all the people you've dated and flirted with before, none of them was as careful as Danny. The way he gently placed flowers in your hair as he looked for the best angles to take pictures of you, he even said how remarkable you were at sunlight. How good it was for your eyes and skin.

This lasted for twenty minutes, with Holly taking her own selfies for instagram in the background.

Staring at his camera, Danny had his focused yet soft eyes every time he glanced at you. "Hey, could I get your-"

"My number?" You finished his request, but it only made Danny chuckle.

"Well I was going to ask for your email, but sure." He gave you his phone, which wasn't exactly one of the biggest and modern phones to ever exist, and you embarassedly typed down your number. Who asks for emails nowadays? "Thank you. I'll send you the pictures later."

"That'd be wonderful."

You, second child of a wealthy divorced couple with a younger brother who's working abroad on Europe, who's in charge of a bakery and trying to make your way in the world. Danny found you interesting, and naïve of course, who flirts with a stranger in broad daylight? So uncivilized and desperate.

Holly-Marie Monroe, on the other hand, was your rich friend with a beautiful bride, and the owner of a company that produces the finest clothing in town. She lives for instagram and twitter, your stereotypical blogger and ocasional selfies about whatever is happening in her plastic life. Like everybody else, she pretended everything in her life is perfect.

But you? Oh, the background friend. Danny nicknamed you that after a brief search through all of your social media. You finished school and university in arts, but after your brother left to go on a "retire" in Europe, he left you in charge of the bakery. Not that your artist career was going anywhere anytime soon. You twitted ocasionally, but personally, Danny loved your blog. Apparently, you practiced your art talents on cakes. Strangely lots of people loved it, which really isn't nothing much. What happened to the old, simple cakes? Do people really pay that much for food just because it looks "different"? What has society come to?

Even after sending you the pictures, Johnson felt quite disappointed that you didn't seem to post them anywhere. C'mon, they were great, and worthy of being posted. Something that would guarantee Danny that you liked them as much. Something that it would make you remember him.

A copy-paste here and a quick search on Maps, here it was.

Your exact street, building and apartment you lived in. Isn't Internet wonderful?

#dead by daylight #dbd ghostface x reader #dbd x reader #ghostface x reader #danny johnson x reader #jed olsen x reader #danny johnson #dbd ghostface #jed olsen

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binxyu · 3 years

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He was obsessed with the beauty of colors. Even if he could not see them without you, he adored the way they showed up on his canvas. His biggest fear was losing them and, with that, you. Too bad his biggest fear came true...

>>Pairing: Park Seonghwa (dom) x fem!reader (sub) ft. Jung Wooyoung | artist!seonghwa x photographer!reader

>>Word Count: 4.8k

>>Genre: Mini Series (Pt.2) / Requested / Smut & Angst

>>Warnings/Kinks: Arguments, begging, breast play, cumplay, fingering, hair pulling, marking, photographed nudity, praise, public sex/exhibitionism, size kink, spitting, and unprotected sex

<- previous part

The museum felt so dull and empty without Seonghwa’s works in them. It had been months and you had yet to see one new work from the artist.

You knew you should’ve moved on by now, especially due to your photography career soaring.

Everything was going perfectly. Everything but your love life.

Wooyoung was now just your friend and the person you thought was your soulmate was no where to be found.

The more you thought about it, the more you realized you missed Seonghwa’s touch and the spark it brought to your skin more than the color of his eyes. You just missed him.

Now, you were realizing that maybe colors weren’t as essential as you thought.

The auction had started hours ago in that same museum, your photographs up for sale among many art pieces. You had been struggling so much after your soulmate’s disappearance that your rent was way past due and the only option was to sell your work.

And what shocked you the most was that your old photographs were selling much faster than your new ones. The old ones that were entirely in black and white.

As you looked at them, truly analyzing everything about them, you realized why. Those photographs were candid, an ethereal way of showing your pain.

While they were dull to you, they told a narrative to everyone else.

“So, can you pay your bills now?”, a smile spread across your lips when you heard the familiar voice, turning around to see Wooyoung standing there.

He looked good. A suit on to hug his curves and his soulmate clinging to his arm. They really were perfect for each other.

Basically, the story of the two was that they were tied to one another by red strings and they had found each other while you were with Seonghwa.

It made you sorrowful when you realized that meant Wooyoung had known the entire time you weren’t meant to be together, but those feelings quickly disappeared when you saw how happy he was.

“Yeah, I might even have some money leftover for groceries”, you grinned and Wooyoung shook his head, patting your’s as he stared at the final photograph you had left after the auction was over.

It was your most recent work and you knew it was probably too dispirited to catch anyone’s attention. Yet, you still brought it with you. The meaning of the photograph was too important to not bring it along with you.

In the photograph, you were there with your back to the camera surrounded by items that you believe represented how heartbreak felt. The light of the sun was shining through the window on your curled up form and it looked awfully dull the more you looked at it.

A loveless life is dull.

“Buy yourself a nice meal then. Wait, get a good meal and then travel. You’ve been in Seoul your whole life. Maybe it’s time to get out of here for a while”, you had actually given that some thought. What was even keeping you here? Was it the idea that maybe you’d get Seonghwa back?

“I’ll plan a trip to Jeju soon. I’ve always wanted to take photos of the ocean there”, Wooyoung grinned from your words, thinking you were finally moving on with your life. The trip was more of a distraction than anything else, but it wasn’t entirely a lie. You had always wanted to take photos there.

“Want help getting the most affordable tickets? I know a guy”, there was that business man you had dated before. Wooyoung traveled all the time so of course he could find the most affordable pricing.

“No, I’m going to do this on my own. Thank you though. I’ll see both of you again soon”, the woman and Wooyoung nodded, giving you a small wave as you moved to leave the museum, your photo tucked in your bag to keep it safe.

However, something caught your eye and had you rooted to the floor.

There, hidden behind some of the tarps for the auction was a new painting. One with the initials PS on it.

You quickly moved to take a look, noticing quickly the familiar beauty and chaos that was your soulmate’s art style. In the center there was a girl and you immediately knew it was you.

Holding up your photo, it was almost an exact replica. The only distinct difference was that Seonghwa’s painting had hope in it. It was just another painting to everyone else, but you realized quickly that the tiny painting painted on the wall in the art was the one you made together.

Except, it seemed glued together. Like it had been ripped to spreads only to be put back together like a puzzle.

“Oh, Seonghwa. I’m so sorry”, before you could stop yourself, your fingers were tracing the painting, memorizing every edge. It was so despairing aside from that glued painting.

You snapped out of it and forced yourself to leave, slipping your photo back into your bag as you tried to contain your tears.

The walk to your apartment wasn’t a long one. You had purposely chosen one close to that museum because you knew that was where you belonged.

You opened the door, greeted by Bruce, your tiny Pomeranian you had been given. Wooyoung’s soulmate believed he was the key to getting over your loneliness and, while you loved the black and white fluffy dog, you weren’t exactly sure if that was true.

He barked and you crouched down to pet his head, watching as he smiled and tilted his head just so you could scratch the perfect spot. A laugh fell from your lips as you moved to sit down on your bed, setting up your computer on your lap.

“Want to go to Jeju with me?”, Bruce just barked and you took that as a definite yes.

Your plane had landed a few hours ago and you had quickly found your way to the beach once all of your belongings were in the hotel you were staying in.

Bruce walked beside you as the wind blew through your hair, the sound of the waves filling your ears.

As you approached the middle of the beach, you saw a man painting along the shoreline. His brush moved in quick strokes along the canvas as he stared out at the ocean.

It made you smile seeing someone else so deeply into art here.

Then, you realized why he had chosen this spot to paint.

The sun was setting and it was right at the spot the artist was looking at. The vast array of colors was right above the ocean.

You instinctively got out your camera and took a photo of it. You looked at the shot to see that you had accidentally gotten the artist in it and, while it did add some depth, you refused to take photos of others without permission.

As your finger hovered over the delete button, you felt eyes on you. You looked up to see the artist staring at you, your world suddenly going grey.

“Seonghwa?”, the name felt paradoxical. It was filled with sadness but also happiness.

The man’s eyes found your’s and both of your worlds were colorless.

Bruce tugged on the leash, snapping you out of whatever trance you were in.

“I missed you”, his voice croaked, tears welling up in his eyes as he looked you over. While he couldn’t see the color of your skin or the rosiness of your cheeks, he could tell you were doing well. You were healthy and that was all that mattered.

“Sorry”, it was all you could get out from the emotions clouding your thoughts. You turned to walk away, gripping the leash in your hand tighter as you tried to quickly get away.

You yelped when Bruce started running back, pulling you along with him until you were standing so unbearably close to Seonghwa. Your chest was almost touching his as your dog rubbed against his leg.

“Why are you trying to run again?”, you looked down at the sand below you. Seonghwa could finally see you in all your glory as the colors came back since you weren’t looking.

The only thing he couldn’t do was look into your eyes. That’s what he wanted most.

“I’m tired of running so I get it’s cowardly, but I don’t know what else to do. I’m just so confused”, you spoke honestly and looked up, trying to be brave and finally face your problems. Especially when the main one was right in front of you.

“I think I found some answers. I’m going to assume you saw my painting”, of course he would know you did. His painting flooded your head and you were thankful you took the time to memorize all its bold features.

“I did. Our painting?”, it felt wrong to say our in reference to the painting you two made while you were in love. It wasn’t like it was in your studio.

“Do you know why I glued it back together?”, you searched his eyes for an answer other than hope but you could not find one.

“Hope?”, Seonghwa chuckled and put his hands gently on your shoulders, looking for any sign that he should remove them before he continued.

“More than that, I found answers. It was a test. A test we sadly failed at first, but maybe there’s hope to pass it now”, Seonghwa bent over and picked up Bruce to keep him calm, petting the puppy’s head as he waited for your response.

“What test?”, the artist smiled and your heart swelled at how hopeful it was. He really wanted this to work.

“It’s a rare test that some people with our connection have to go through. We have to look past the outside and into the inside. Basically, we have to keep loving without the colors”, it seemed so simple coming from the man’s mouth. He seemed so excited and, yet, you couldn’t stop thinking about the ifs.

“Will we be able to see colors again? I don’t want to take that from you”, it was true. You could make it without them because your black and white photos sold faster than your colored ones but Seonghwa needed those colors in his paintings. He needed those brilliant shades in his work.

“Some got it back and others didn’t, but I can do without them as long as you’ll look at me”, his voice dripped with aggressive honesty, no room for argument on your side. You nodded as you let the information seep into your mind.

“Let’s start with this”, he pointed at Bruce and the dog licked his cheek, making you giggle. Seonghwa grinned when he heard the noise. He may have missed that most of all.

“That’s my son Bruce. My friend gave him to me”, you pat the dog’s head and Seonghwa nodded, stroking the puppy’s back before he set him back down on the sand.

“Try painting?”, the question made your head spin as you looked over at the easel, shaking your head immediately.

“I’m definitely not a painter. That looks way too good to ruin”, Seonghwa shook his head and took your free hand in his, walking you towards the place his art supplies were. There it was, that spark that went through you when you touched.

“If I do this then I get to teach you how to take a proper photo”, you put your pinky out and his hearty laugh made your cheeks turn redder, not that he could tell.

“Deal”, his pinky wrapped around your own and that was a promise made. The first of many.

“Okay, pick up a brush and let’s start”, you looked down at the many brushes along the bottom of the easel and you just grabbed one. You have never painted before and it really showed.

“Maybe not the biggest one I have”, he chuckled and took the big brush out of your hand, getting a much smaller one and putting it into your hand.

“Okay, lets try to paint around the sun”, Seonghwa gestured first to the painted sun he made and then the real one across the ocean. He purposely looked away so you could see the colors, forcing himself to keep his eyes off of you.

You collected a little bit of the lavender-tinted paint on his palette and started to paint. Seonghwa looked over at the canvas and chuckled, watching how messy you were making it.

“Like this”, he came up behind you and his big hand encased your’s, guiding you to smooth out the paint. His chest was pressed against your back and the last time you two painted together came back, causing your hand to shake a little nervously.

“You’re doing well. Don’t be nervous”, Seonghwa smiled and you should’ve known he would’ve thought your shakiness was because of the painting. Well, it was but not this specific painting.

“Okay, do we move onto the next color now?”, the man answered with a simple “yes” and he let go of you. While he enjoyed being so close to you, he did want to see you do it yourself.

You did exactly what Seonghwa had done before but with orange this time, the color reminding you of a tangerine as your brush moved across the canvas.

“It’s simple when you get used to it”, that comment made you laugh, turning to look at the man.

“Seonghwa... this is a sunset. The shit you paint is much more complex”, you shook your head and went back to painting despite the lack of color now there. He was staring at you.

“Did we go too fast? Is that why this happened?”, your eyebrows furrowed as you thought about it. You two really did go fast. As soon as you had found out your destiny, you dropped everything and ran off with Seonghwa despite not knowing much about each other.

“Do you think it’s a trick to get us to get to know one another?”, it sounded ridiculous coming out of you, but it did make sense.

“Probably. Does that mean nothing is wrong? We can still be together?”, you grimaced at the overly complicated question.

“I don’t know. We’ll figure that out I suppose”, you tried to get around giving him a definite answer because you truly didn’t know. The whole situation was so confusing and you had to curse the universe in your head.

The rest of your painting was silent. Seonghwa played with Bruce in the sand as you focused on the art. You were slowly realizing why the man loved painting so much.

It was peaceful and away from the harsh reality around him. He could create whatever world he wanted on this little canvas and there was no limits. No limits like you had created.

“Pretty good for your first go”, Seonghwa commented as he looked over your work. It was a tad bit more messy than if he had done it but it was impressive.

“I have a good teacher”, you teased and smiled, feeling proud of doing something out of your comfort zone.

Your entire life had been a routine of activities and places you were familiar with. Now, the world felt boundless. That’s how Seonghwa made you feel.

“Well, it’s your turn to be teacher now”, the man poked your side and you would’ve did it back if Bruce wasn’t desperately pulling on the leash.

“Come with us? I can once Bruce is back in the hotel. He’s tired of the outside now”, you chuckled as the puppy barked at you as if to agree. Seonghwa nodded and walked beside you down the beach and down the path to your hotel.

Once the dog was back in your room, you followed behind Seonghwa. He had mentioned a beautiful hiking trail not too far from here. You were realizing that he had probably been here the whole time. Maybe you weren’t the only one who had run away.

“So, what is your favorite animal?”, your head turned to look at the man, the question making you laugh softly. It was true that you didn’t know that about each other. Maybe this walk would be good to actually know one another.

A scream tore through your throat when you were thrown into the lake, your clothes clinging to your wet body.

You glared when your head returned to the surface, the freezing water biting at your skin. Seonghwa just laughed, waving your camera in the air like it’s just some flimsy piece of paper.

“Be careful with that!”, you scolded him and he immediately stopped, like a puppy that was found eating the furniture.

“Sorry sorry, but look how good it turned out!”, you swam over to the rock below him, leaning up on it like a mermaid peering up at her human prince.

He crouched down and showed you the photo. It was a photo of the exact moment your body had penetrated the water, the waterfall right behind you. It was beautiful.

“Now who’s the good teacher?”, you teased and Seonghwa moved to lay on the rock, looking into your eyes.

“You are. I genuinely love photography now”, he chuckled and it felt like the world had stopped as you look into each other’s eyes.

“It’s a screenshot but for reality”, you giggled and lifted yourself up with your hands, placing a little kiss on his forehead.

“Do you have anything I can change into?”, you asked as you realized your shirt was doing very little to cover your upper body now.

“Just take this”, he helps you out of the water and respectfully turns around, taking his hoodie off and passing it to you.

You put the hoodie on and it engulfed your smaller form, going down to your knees because of how oversized it was.

“Okay, you can look now”, Seonghwa nodded and turned around to face you, trying to hide his smile when he saw how adorable you looked.

“Ready to go back? It’s probably midnight now”, Seonghwa motioned to the moon shining above the trees. You stood there staring at it for a moment before you nodded, letting the man take your hand in his as he guided you along the path.

It was your last day in Jeju, a daunting knowledge that had you awake before even the sun rose. It had already been a week but you didn’t feel like it was enough time.

Your feet sinked into the sand as you hurried to try to get a clear photo of the sunrise.

You eventually found a bolder to set up on, sitting on the cold surface once your camera was out. It was so peaceful but also eerily quiet.

Well, until a certain someone found you.

“Hey, come to see the sunrise too?”, Seonghwa came to sit by you, his arm wrapped around you as if you were going to fall off the rock.

“Yeah, I was wondering how beautiful it must be if the sunset is as gorgeous as it was”, you nodded and felt a weight on your shoulders, the need to get everything out. To figure it out.

“Last day, huh? Aren’t you leaving in the morning?”, Seonghwa watched you nod and he pouted, that cute little pout that made your heart melt.

“Yeah. Actually, why don’t you come back with me?”, you looked at him, hope in your eyes ever present.

“I would but my friend is sick here. I have to be here”, so he didn’t run off. He was running to help someone in need.

You nodded understandingly, your mind trying to come up with something but only silence filled the air.

“Hey, before you leave, I wanted to ask something. Was there anything I could’ve said back then to make you stay?”, you knew what he was referring to. After the colors left, you had run off and drove to your apartment, not even looking back.

“Honestly... no. I was so confused and scared. I just wanted you to have it all and if that meant breaking your heart then I was okay with it”, a sigh left your lips, feeling guilt fill your stomach.

“I think I would rather be completely blind then lose you again”, the confession caught you off guard and you turned your entire body to face him.

“Like I’d ever let that happen”, you shook your head and Seonghwa cupped your face in his hands, looking over every feature he could. He wanted to remember it all when you were gone.

“Like I’d let you stop me”, he was so serious that it made you gulp, your heart pounding against your chest. He leaned in and finally closed the gap between you, his lips molding with your’s perfectly. Sparks erupted through both of your bodies and it caused your body to shake as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

His hands trailed down to your waist, waiting for any protest from you before he moved them to your ass, squeezing the skin under your panties. The dress you were wearing did the bare minimal of protecting your lower body from the man’s hands. Not that you minded one bit.

Seonghwa pulled away from the kiss, looking up at you as he pulled you into his lap. His expression was filled with so much raw emotion, nothing hidden.

“Do you want this? Do you want us?”, the second question lingered in your mind. How would this work? You had no idea. Especially when he was stuck on this island, but you knew what you wanted.

“Yes, I want you, Seonghwa. But, you have to keep painting. I need to see your work in the museum”, Seonghwa chuckled and nodded, pecking your lips as he snuck his finger into your panties, moving it up and down your slit to collect your wetness.

“Here’s the catch though, you’ll have to go to other museums to see them. Get out there, princess”, you huffed in annoyance and the man smiled teasingly. After a week, the black and white world became comforting. It was simply a sign that Seonghwa was only looking at you.

Maybe the world was black and white because colors would only distract you two from what mattered. It wasn’t how brown Seonghwa’s eyes were. It was how caring he was or how he made you laugh. That’s what is important.

Seonghwa pushed two of his fingers inside of you, scissoring your cunt open as his other hand lifted your dress up to reveal your breasts. He almost wanted to scold you for wearing no bra, but your breasts looked way too perfect under the moonlight for him to care.

A whimper sounded in your throat when his fingers started to hit that spot inside of you and you felt a cold substance on your chest. In the center of your torso, Seonghwa had spit and his tongue was now trailing up it to your breasts. His lips wrapped around the bud and sucked, only furthering your pleasure as you rocked your hips against his fingers.

It felt so perfect and right. Your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces and it oddly reminded you of the painting you two had made together. Glued together like a puzzle.

“You’re so beautiful and smart. You’re just amazing, okay?”, it was definitely more of a statement than a question but you nodded, a vibrant smile on your face. With Seonghwa, every insecurity felt minuscule. Nothing mattered but how you both felt with your bodies against each other.

“And you’re just as amazing”, a soft moan mixed with the words and that only made it more impactful. Only he could have you making those sounds.

“You want more?”, the gentleness of his voice made a shiver run up your spine. Not even the openness of your actions could bother you.

“Please, give me more”, he read your meaning loud and clear, taking his fingers out of you. It felt so empty without them there but you knew something better was coming.

He unzipped his pants, letting your dress fall back down. He pulled his jeans and boxers down, letting his cock free and your mouth practically watered at the sight.

He moved your panties too the side, in too much of a hurry now that the sun was finally riding. You spread your legs and sunk down onto his dick, your head falling back blissfully as it stretched you out.

“Shit, I forgot how big you are”, you whined, moving your head into his neck and he licked the skin of your neck before he started to suck on it. Without his real canvas here, he would have to recreate the artwork you two had made on your skin.

“And i forgot how tight you are. Wait, let me make sure”, you could practically hear the teasing tone in his voice as he bottomed out in you. His hand moved to lift your dress up a little, showing off the bulge in your tummy.

“There it is. Look how good you take it”, Seonghwa sounded so proud as he stared at it, moving his hips a little just to watch the bulge move.

“I only will take your cock. Only your’s”, it was so validating to hear you say that as your hands found their way into his hair, running through the messy locks, “you can move, baby”.

He didn’t need to be told twice, his hips moving up and down as you bounced on his cock. The angle from being on top had you already moaning, joyful tears welling up in your eyes as bliss overtook your body.

“Princess, look”, neither of your paces faltered as you turned your head to look at the sunrise. You smiled once you saw all the colors surrounding the sun. Light shun upon your bodies slowly and the warmth felt amazing.

“Wait! The photo!”, you looked over at your camera which was sitting beside you and you stopped bouncing to grab it.

“No, let me”, Seonghwa smirked and took the camera, holding it out to your side. Your bodies were perfectly in view of the lens and you blushed as he took the photo, your naked bodies now in your camera roll.

“Now, whenever you look at a sunrise you’ll think of me”, he grinned and you playfully slapped his chest before you took the camera and took an appropriate picture of the sunrise.

You put the camera down and looked at the man again, his eyes meeting your’s.

“Hwa...”, your voice faltered when you saw something unfamiliar.

Orange. Purple. Red.

Right on your soulmate’s skin.

“You- you see it too?”, the sunlight shining on both of your skin was now visible even if you were looking at one another.

“Yes! Fuck, you’re so pretty”, you couldn’t help but say, tears spilling down your cheeks as you took in everything about him again. The gentle tan of his skin, his rosey lips, and even the color of his veins.

Seonghwa’s thumbs gently wiped away your tears before he tugged on your hair to bring your lips to his, his hips slowly beginning to move again. You moaned in his mouth, rolling your hips to meet his as you felt his dick rub against your walls.

“I love you”, you whispered against his lips as you felt your orgasm building up. Seonghwa smiled, a beautiful smile you had missed in all its glory.

“I love you too”, his cock twitched inside of you and he started to rub your clit, your pussy clenching around him in response to the stimulation.

“Cum together?”, you asked, resting your forehead against his as you tried to catch your breath.

“Be together? No matter the distance?”, you didn’t expect him to answer with more questions, but you knew your answer to them and you knew his answer to your question.

“Always”, you nodded before you felt your orgasm run through your body, clenching around the man as your cum coated his cock.

Seonghwa had the decency to pull out of you, releasing on your thighs and stomach. He really was going to make you his new canvas.

His fingers smeared the seed on as much skin as he could get to and you giggled, shaking your head.

“All I know is that you better answer every single one of my calls after this”, you became painfully aware of the vulnerability of being seen now. Seonghwa chuckled and gestured to the ocean.

“And you better get that cum off of your skin before the early birds get here”.

#binxyu #seonghwa #ateez #ateez seonghwa #park seonghwa oneshots #seonghwa oneshots #seonghwa smut #ateez oneshots #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez seonghwa smut #ateez imagines #seonghwa imagines #park seonghwa #park seonghwa smut #kpop smut #kpop imagines

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felix21im · 3 years

Text

"Ice Cold", a Leon Kennedy x reader fanfiction

As an Art and Design student all you want to do is just knuckle down and finish that one goddamn piece you've been working on for months. Too bad your time is constantly stolen by your Waiter job with minimal pay, but hey, at least the tips are good if you unbutton your shirt that one more time.

Masterlist

Chapter 4: The Party

This chapter is intended for mature audiences (18+).

While the main core of this chapter is gender neutral and SFW, the ending is written for a general female reader. The male reader part will be in the next post separately. If you would like to read neither you will be notified when to click away and when to start reading again.

A few weeks passed after you finished your “passion project”, as Alex and Jordan lovingly called it. You went to visit Leon a few times after that again but he was often out for work, which made it hard to stay in personal contact. You never found out what he did for work and where he went but as soon as he was away from home you felt him changing a little. Even though you mainly texted each other, he sometimes even called you. When this was the case he often was drunk and you wondered if he really went out for work or just to party. As soon as he was back you never had the chance to ask him if he's keeping anything from you. Whenever you tried to talk about the calls or messages he left for you he changed the subject. So you just learnt to live with it because you didn't want to make him mad or be annoyed by you.

Since it was your birthday in only a few days you wondered if Leon forgot his idea of partying at his place. Maybe he wouldn't even be home by then, you thought to yourself.

You were just eating dinner with your roommate Jordan as your phone lit up again. “Let me guess, Leon again?” You checked your phone just to confirm their premonition. You let out a small sigh. “What is it this time? I don’t know about you, but I think he's acting kinda odd lately and I never even met him!”

“Yea, I don't really know either. Maybe he's just overworking or something, I don’t know. I mean, he always liked to drink so maybe too much work doesn't really help with that.” You lay your phone to the side, eating the rest of the food you prepared earlier. It was nothing compared to Angel’s food but it was all you could afford to buy this week. It made you think about that money Leon offered you back then. Maybe declining it wasn't your best idea.

After Jordan and you finished eating and cleaning you went back into your small room and Jordan left the house to meet with a friend. You unlocked your phone again to see what Leon was up to this time. You noticed he had sent multiple messages already, asking if you were ignoring him or whatever. You quickly answered and reassured him that you weren't ignoring or pissed at him. He then asked about your day and what you were up to the next few days. You let out a small laugh. “Hmm, I don´t know.. Maybe celebrate my birthday or something like that.” You were unsure if he was just messing with you or actually forgot about it. You tried to respond calmly but it didn't really work as you hoped it would. Instead you sounded wayyy too ironic and pissed and you were angry at yourself.

You wanted to throw your phone away but Leon answered once again before you had the chance to do so. “I’m just messing with you, Buttercup ;) how could I ever forget your birthday? - Leon”, the message said. You couldn't stay mad for too long, especially not after Leon sent a picture of him after it. You hadn't seen him in so long so you weren't really prepared for what's gonna come. And even if you had seen him before, nothing could have prepared you for this. He sent a picture of himself, probably after working out. He was looking at the camera, his face in bright red and sweat covering his whole upper body. And he wasn't even trying to hide his muscular body. You were unable to move, you didn't even know what to do or say right now. You were happy that Jordan was out of the house right now, that meant you could have some alone time to yourself and that picture…

Another few days flew by and before you knew it, it was your birthday. You were woken up by Jordan, who came into your bedroom singing “Happy Birthday” as loud as they possibly could. You looked at them tired but soon had a smile resting on your face. After Jordan finished singing they came over to give you a nice hug. “Happy 21st birthday! I got us a small cake, we can eat it now if you want. And.. I also got some presents for you!” They pushed you out of the bed and into the small living room.

On the small table was a cake and a few small presents, but the biggest was seated on the old couch. “Leon!”

You had a big smile on your face and practically ran into his arms. “Happy Birthday, Buttercup. I hope my little surprise worked.” You nodded as hard as you could and sat down besides Leon. You opened the presents from Jordan and thanked them for it. Then Leon reached down into a bag that was laying next to his feet. “I also got you something. You’re probably gonna need this today.” You looked at him confused, took the wrapped present and opened it. You felt some kind of fabric on your fingers and pulled it out.

You spread it out before you and realized that Leon had bought you your own suit. You actually remembered a similar one in Leon’s closet back then. “Wow, Leon! This is so pretty, I don't even know what to say!” You went back to hug him again.

“Don't worry about it. Angel actually got you something for it as well. Here.” He gave you another small bag. In it was a purple bow-tie, the exact purple you painted the living room with. In the bag was also a fake clematis, which you could put into your suit jacket pocket.

“This is so nice! Thank you guys so much! I can't wait to wear it.” Jordan and Leon had to laugh because of your excitement.

“Let's eat some cake first, birthday kid, before you mess that new fancy suit of yours up!” Now it was your turn to laugh. You nodded in agreement before sitting back down. Jordan cut the cake in three pieces and each one of you enjoyed their piece of it.

After eating and drinking some tea you gave Jordan your dirty plates so they could clean them up. While they were doing that you grabbed your new suit and went to go into your room. “I'll be back in a few. Please make yourself comfortable and if you need anything, just ask.” You told Leon before leaving the living room and going into yours. You got rid of the pyjamas you were still wearing and put on some fresh underwear. You then lay the suit on your bed and looked at it in detail. It contained black pants, a white collared shirt with shiny buttons, an almost blackish purple vest and jacket with the fitting bow tie and flower from Angel. You began putting on the pants, followed by the shirt and vest. You then put on the bow tie and went to leave the room with the jacket and flower laying over your arm. Before stepping outside though, you realized you didn't have any fancy shoes that fit your outfit. You decided to just put on some white sneakers, hoping it would look at least kind of okay.

As you left the room you almost walked into Leon, who was standing in front of your door. “Oh, I’m sorry. I just wanted to see if everything was alright..” He looked at you from head to toe. “Wow.. You look wonderful, Buttercup.”

You felt your cheeks heat up once again as you tried to find the right words to thank him. “Thank you so so much, Leon. I don’t think I've ever worn something so fancy and expensive, I really like it.” You looked up to him, a big smile covering your face.

Leon then reached out his hands, fixing your bow tie a little. “I just gotta make sure you look perfect. Now, put on your jacket so I can add that flower and I think then we should be ready to go.” You nodded and he helped you get into the jacket. After that he added the clematis into your chest pocket. He then took a step back looking at you. “This is perfect. Well then, should we go?” He held out his hand for you to take before going to the front door. You grabbed your phone and keys and then left together with him. Jordan was already waiting outside, also wearing a shirt covered by a black vest and some jeans. The three of you then left the building and went to Leon's car.

As you arrived at Leon’s home you already saw multiple people putting up signs or preparing stuff. You looked at Leon shocked, since you didn't think it would be this big of a party. Even Jordan couldn’t stop themself from letting out a surprised “Wow.” You nodded in agreement, unable to find any words. The moment Leon stopped on the driveway you could see Angel coming closer and then opening the car door for you. You thanked her and got out of the car, also thanking her for the presents she got for you. For a short second it seemed that she had a tiny smile on her lips but it happened so fast, you weren't sure if you just imagined it.

You felt a light tap on your shoulder taking you back to the now. “Come with me. I actually got another present for you. But it wouldn't fit in your home.” Leon took your hand and led you through the crowd of people. He then let go of you, standing behind you and covering your eyes. “Do you trust me?” He asked to which you answered with a slight nod. You felt him start walking so you also started going forward. After a short while of walking and taking turns he finally stopped you. He slowly lifted his hands from your eyes and added some dramatic sound effects with his mouth.

As soon as your eyes got used to the light you looked around. You were still outside near the house, but somewhere you never went before. In front of you stood a black car, already showing signs that it wasn't completely new. You turned back to Leon, looking at him confused. “What..What am I supposed to do with this now?” You asked him kind of dumbfounded as if you missed something.

Leon let out a small chuckle while walking to the car and unlocking it. “This, my dear, is your own new car. I mean, not really new, I used it before and it's actually kind of old, but I don't have any use for it anymore.”

You looked at him, still unsure on how to react. “You do know that I don't have a driver's license, right?” You slowly walked toward the car and checked it out.

“Of course I do. But I took care of that as well. A friend from work will be your teacher for a few weeks. You’re going to be getting driving lessons every day and before you know it you can drive all by yourself. I promise you, everything is gonna work out just fine.”

You still looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “I- Leon, this is really nice of you but-”

He stopped you before you had the chance to finish that sentence. “-Nope, no buts. I'm giving this to you now and I don't want you to return it to me like that money a few months back. You hear me?” Before being able to argue he threw the car keys over to you, leaving no room for discussion.

You sighed and had to chuckle. “Alright then. Thank you, Leon. I mean it. I don't know how I deserve all this. There's no way I'll ever be able to repay you.”

“That's the reason all these things are gifts, Buttercup. I don't want anything in return. I just like to help you out a little.” He winked at you before taking your hand and leading you back to the main party.

From a few meters away you could see Angel talking to another woman and a man. You recognized the man as the one who was with Leon at that bar a few months back. He was also wearing a fancy suit. The woman next to him was wearing a yellow dress, making her an eye catcher when combined with her pink hair. Leon and you walked right up to them, unfortunately interrupting their conversation. Leon cleared his throat, making your presence known to them. The three of them turned to look at you, realizing who you were. “Happy birthday!” The small woman with the pink hair pulled you into a hug, resting her head on your chest as she rocked you back and forward. “Angel has told me a lot about you!” She said as she pulled away. “Leon’s friend!”

Leon introduced them to you. “This is my colleague Chris and his assistant Daisy.” He pointed toward the two people and gave you a smile.

You let out a small “Hello” before you started talking some more. “It’s nice to meet the both of you.”

“It’s nice to meet you properly.” Chris held out his hand for you to shake and you gladly accepted it. “It’s weird to think that just a simple dinner between Leon and I allowed for the two of you to meet.” He chuckled. Chris then began to talk about how long he and Leon had known each other and that they often go out for “jobs” together. You tried finding out what kind of jobs they were, but never got a serious answer. At one point it was just you Daisy, Angel and Leon. They began to tell you about their relationship and how long the two of them had been together. You had never seen Angel so happy.

After you guys warmed up, Leon left you to stay with them to change as well. The three of you went to the backside of the house to see the preparations that Leon and Angel made. Eventually you ended up sitting down at one of the patio tables with Chris and the two of you drank a glass of champagne together.

You and Chris chatted for a while as you began to see the courtyard fill up with people. You barely recognised anyone and wondered who invited them all. There were college kids and older adults.

After a small while Leon came back to you and Chris, now also wearing a suit that looked identical to yours. You looked at him and couldn’t hide a smile. “Looking good, Mr. Kennedy.” You said to him jokingly.

“I can only return that compliment.” He winked at you. As the last guests arrived, Angel allowed for people to get the fresh food that was just finished up for them. You also got a plate and went to get something nice to eat. You and Leon went up together and he helped you pick out some food, although it was plain you just went for some meat and cheese. After getting your dinner, you and Leon sat down next to Chris on a small table. Soon after, Alex and Jordan also joined filling all your glasses with some champagne they found on their way through the house. You didn't even want to ask where they were sneaking around and just thanked them. Like always, Leon added some ice into his drink before clinking your glasses together. You all then ate and drank together, enjoying each other's company and having a lot of fun. This time you didn't really worry too much about how much you or even Leon had drunk. You were just glad to have a big birthday party with all your new friends.

Once it hit around midnight most of the guests began to leave, leaving only a handful of you left. The evening was really great, you met some new people and also drank a lot. Now you and Alex sat at the edge of the pool with a bottle of beer in each of your hands. You must have been there for a while because at some point Leon came over to tell you to get away from the pool. “C’mon, you’re going to get cold over here.” He held out his hand for you to take but rather than accepting it like always you simply looked at it.

“No.” You replied to him as you looked out towards the pool and you took your shoes and socks off, placing them behind you on the floor. “I’m having a grand ole time over here!” You dipped your feet into the water.

“I don’t want you to fall in.” He crouched down beside you and looked at both you and Alex. “The pair of you are pretty drunk and I’d rather you stay with the adults.”

“I am an adult, Leon.” You turned to scoff at him, pointing your finger in his face. “I’m pretty sure I know how to look after myself. I can make my own decisions, I don’t need your help!”

“Fine.” He stood back up. “Just be careful okay? I’m surprised that no one fell in the pool and I don’t want you to be the person who does it.” He turned around to head back to where he was originally sitting with Chris, beside the giant heat lamp that sat on the patio.

“Oooo, I don't want you to be the person who falls in the pool…” You rolled your eyes at Alex as you mimicked what Leon said. “I won’t fall in.” You chuckled to yourself as you began to take your jacket off. “I’ll willingly go in!” You tossed your jacket over to your shoes and you pushed yourself off the ledge and straight into the freezing cold water. Alex looked at you surprised, then jumped in after you. You could see Chris trying to hide his laugh while Leon looked at you shocked. This wasn't what he expected to happen. He didn't exactly have a plan for his next step, so he just decided to let it happen. So now you and Alex were acting like little kids playing in this big pool. After a while however you were getting bored, deciding to get out of the cold water and drinking another glass of whiskey that stood on one of the tables, just waiting for you guys. You sat down on the garden chair, your new suit completely wet, leaving you freezing cold. Leon already went inside to get you two some towels to get at least kind of dry.

You tried to hide your shivering but after a few minutes Leon noticed it anyway. "You know, I told you it wasn't the best idea to get into that pool, right?" He gave you a smirk, showing that he knew exactly that he was right. You just shook your head, letting some water fly through the air and wetting Chris who was sitting next to you. Leon let out a sigh, standing up from his chair. "Follow me. I'll get you some dry clothes." You let out a groan, feeling like a child the way Leon treated you the last few minutes. Nevertheless you stood up from the place you were sitting, slowly following Leon. You suddenly felt the alcohol you drank in your body making you walk unsteadily. Leon seemed to notice and even though he wasn't exactly sober either he helped you walk. Together you went inside the house and into his bedroom. You tried not to touch anything fearing you would make it dirty, but as soon as you went into his bedroom you couldn't keep your balance anymore. You lay down on his bed, muttering a quiet 'sorry'. Leon didn't seem to care and just went into his closet and grabbed out a single black t-shirt. It was heavily oversized but you still accepted it. It was a combination of you being soaking wet and all of the drinks you’ve had throughout the night but you instantly began to unbutton your shirt and you tossed it to the side of the room, the wet fabric beginning to create a puddle on the carpet. You slid the shirt over your head and then took off your trousers, throwing them onto the pile. “You could have just given that to me. I could have put it down the laundry chute…” He raised his eyebrows as he picked up the wet clothes and threw them into the laundry bin. “C’mon.” He placed his hand on your lower back as he walked you out of the room and back downstairs.

“You’re mad aren’t you?” You looked up at him, the embarrassment from you jumping into the pool only just kicking in.

“Why would I be mad, Buttercup?”

“You told me to come and sit with you and Chris, but noooo I wanted to be stupid and be annoying.” You rolled your eyes at yourself, disappointed that you might have ruined the night.

He let out a small chuckle. "The most important thing is that you have fun, you hear me?" He stopped walking and looked you deep in the eyes. "That's all that matters to me." You instantly got red, unable to move or answer anything to what he just said. “I’m happy if you’re happy.” He placed his hand on the side of your face and stroked your cheek.

As you came back to where Chris and Alex were waiting, you noticed Angel and Daisy had joined them as well. They were talking a bit, well mostly Chris and Daisy anyway. Alex seemed too tired and drunk to even add anything to their conversation. When you were sitting down again Chris just got up to leave. "It was really nice getting to know you. But Daisy and I will go back to our hotel now, we have something to do tomorrow. Maybe we can have an evening like this someday again." You gave Chris and Daisy a goodbye-hug and they went to leave. Angel accompanied them to their Taxi they must have called when you were changing your clothes upstairs. After that she went inside, already cleaning up some parts of the house. Alex decided to also go inside, not helping Angel but rather to get some sleep. That was probably the only good idea they had in that state. You sat down on the garden bench taking another sip of your drink. Leon placed himself next to you, also drinking another glass of whiskey.

FEMALE VERSION (starting now)

MALE VERSION

It was just the two of you now. “Thanks for the party, Leon.” You looked up and smiled at him and he looked down and did the same. You weren't sure if it was the alcohol or maybe the hypothermia sitting in but you felt so hot looking at his face so closely. “I’ll be sure to remember it.”

“Are you sure you’re not too drunk to remember?” The smell of whiskey from his breath filled your nostrils and sent a warm feeling down your spine. Even though your soaking wet hair was keeping you cold, you felt so warm next to Leon. You simply let out a small chuckle at his little joke.

Leon held his arm around your waist, pulling you more onto his lap and allowing for you to lean on his chest. Your hair drenched his shirt, his fancy branded dress shirt. Once you realised what you had done you pulled away from him and apologised. “Oh god. I’m sorry, Leon.” You pulled the towel off of your shoulders and began to dab it on his chest, only making it worse. All you were doing was spreading it and making his shirt even more see-through, you would have been lying if you said you didn’t like what you saw.

“It’s fine.” He chuckled at you. “I’ve been wanting to take this shirt off all evening, it’s starting to irritate me.” He slightly leant forward so that he was no longer leaning on the back of the chair but also making sure that you stayed on his lap. With one hand he undid the buttons on his shirt while the other was placed on your hip, making sure that you didn’t fall. You watched him closely as he undid his buttons, even helping him with the very few that he struggled with. The only time he let you go was to allow for him to slide the sleeve off of his arm, but he instantly put his hand back, with slightly more grip than before, making your ass go slightly numb. Yet again, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it.

“Can I ask for one last birthday present?” You were shocked with yourself when you said that. The words came tumbling out of your mouth without any thought.

Leon placed his drink on the armrest of the chair and then placed his hand on your thigh. “And what is that, Buttercup?” He asked.

“I-” You swallowed hard, not being able to stop what you were about to say, it was like you were possessed. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Huh?” He answered. You knew he heard you, he just wanted to be a complete asshole. “I’m getting old, my hearing isn’t quite what it used to be.

“I said. I want you to fuck me, Leon.” You repeated yourself.

“Oh really?” He raised his eyebrows at you as he smirked. “Where’s your manners, Buttercup? I mean you’re going to have to ask a bit more politely than that.”

You were a bit taken back by Leon’s response, you were half expecting to be thrown onto his driveway and being told to never come back. But you were excited that you got a different reaction. “Please Leon. I want- I need you to fuck me.” You stuttered as you talked due to him sliding his hand up your thigh, playing with the fabric of your short mini dress. “I’ve been wanting you ever since you sent me that photo of you while you were away.”

“Did you touch yourself to that photo?” He asked you, correctly thinking that you had. You simply nodded at him, unable to get any words out as his hand was completely under your oversized shirt, fiddling with your skimpy underwear. “And you didn’t even think to ask for any more photos?”

“I didn’t want to overstep.” You admitted, shyly looking down.

He whistled at you as he didnt want to move either of his hands. “You could never overstep, Buttercup.” He hooked his finger around the side of your underwear and pulled it down your legs. “If you want anything from me, you can always ask.” He gave you a wink as he twirled your underwear around his finger, followed by him then throwing it onto the table in front of you. “What can I say?” He let go of your hips and placed his hand on the back of your head, slowly pushing you towards his face. As he was doing so his other hand felt like magic to you, his large fingers slowly caressed you and massaged your inner thigh. “I'm a giver.” He winked as he kissed you heavily. The both of you letting out the stress that neither of you knew you had, both of your shoulders untensing and collapsing. Your entire body had melted around him, you were like a puppet being played by his strings.

“Go on.” You heavily whispered to him.

He chuckled as he continued to kiss you, his stubble tickling your face. As you were preoccupied with his face, his fingers slowly but surely inserted their way into you, gracefully pumping in and out of you. “Are you alright?” He asked after he noticed your face was a little uncomfortable.

“Yes, yes.” Your breathing was heavy and you did feel uncomfortable, not because of Leon, but because you were anxious. “I- I’m just nervous.”

“What’s there to be nervous about?” He asked as he pulled a strand of hair out of your face.

“I’ve never done this before.” You admitted to him, but he didn’t seem phased, if anything he was excited.

“And?” He stroked the side of your face. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

You felt relieved at his response, and you began to relax, letting Leon do his thing. As he slowly moved his fingers in and out of your body his thumb slowly ran circles on your clit, sure you had done this by yourself when your roommate wasn’t home but Leon was making you feel things you had never felt before. It felt different with another person doing this to you, you were used to knowing exactly what was about to happen as you were the one in control, but now? Leon has you by the strings.

Leon kept the slow pace, not speeding up and not slowing down. He wanted for you to orgasm but he didn’t want you to do it too fast. As your breathing became heavier, so did Leon’s, you could feel his cock aching under your leg. If his pants weren't such high quality you wouldn't be surprised if he would have ripped them right then and there. You leant on Leon’s shoulder as your stomach began to tie into knots, your head was buried into his neck and you quivered on him as you began to orgasm, cum absolutely drenching both his finger and his leg. Although you were a little embarrassed at the mess you had made, Leon assured you that it wasn’t a worry. He slowly pulled his fingers out of you to make sure that he wouldn't hurt you at all. “Are you okay, Buttercup?” Just that nickname alone made you want to orgasm all over again. You simply nodded, and once you opened your eyes you saw him pull his fingers out of his own mouth, then putting them back under your shirt and drenched his fingers yet again but this time he put them in your mouth. You tasted your own cum and you weren't sure what it tasted like, you just wanted to lick his fingers not your own cum.

He eventually pulled his fingers out of your mouth and smirked at you. “Do I get to give you a handjob now? Is that how it works?” You asked him, earning a small smile and a laugh.

“No.” He simply replied as he scooped his arm under your legs and the other one on your back. “It’s your party, and I'll make you cry if I want to.” He placed you down onto the seat where he was just sitting and he knelt down on the floor.

“Wha-?” He interrupted you by leaning forward and kissing you, as he did so he spread both of your legs open using your knees. “Oh!” You chuckled as he went back down to his knees, giving you a smirk as he went down. Leon kissed his way up your thighs, sucking and biting every inch of you while he made his way towards your clit. You couldn’t help but fidget as he tickled you from his light stubble, causing him to laugh and him tickling you even more. Eventually you calmed yourself down as the only thing you could focus on was Leon’s tongue and his large nose. You looked down at him and the only thing you could see was the top of his head, his hair slightly moving back and forward. As Leon worked his magic you didn’t know what to do with your hands, you kept one on the arm of the chair, gripping it around the glass that Leon had placed there earlier, your other hand moved down your own body and you tangled it in Leon’s hair, grabbing onto it hard.

“Be careful.” He pulled away and breathed heavily. “You’re going to pull all of my hair out.”

You were taken back by his heavy breathing. “Can you even breathe down there?” You asked, genuinely concerned for him.

He chuckled and brushed his nose with his finger. “I’m fine. If I can’t breathe I’ll just pull away.” You nodded at him and he gave you a small smile before going back down, you made sure to loosen your grip a little on his hair, you sufficed to just slowly running your fingers through his locks.

You tilted your head back, banging it on the chair but you ignored it. Your body was too focused on trying not to suffocate Leon as he made you feel special. You shuddered, and flinched forward, holding both of your hands in Leon’s hair. He chuckled at your reaction and the small vibrations that came from his mouth were what sent you over the edge, your body continued to shake, wave after wave as you came on his face. You felt his tongue licking up all of it.

He pulled away and sat back, leaning against the coffee table. “How was that?” He asked. He looked at the watch on his wrist and then to his left at the sky. “How about we continue this in the bedroom?” He suggested as he stood up and held out his hand for you. “Angel wakes up at the same time everyday and I’m sure you don’t want her interrupting us.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you accepted his hand, standing up on your own two feet felt a little disorienting, from the combination of how much you had drank throughout the night and what Leon just did to you, but he made sure that you could walk. He led you up to his bedroom again, making this a night to remember.

BACK TO THE MAIN STORY

The next morning you were already sitting downstairs in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee. Your hangover made your head pound with every move and you thought you were just gonna end up vomiting on the kitchen floor. Leon was still in a deep sleep when you got up that morning so you didn’t want to disturb him by telling him your issues.

You were sitting there, wondering what's gonna happen next. You let the past night play through your head a few more times, wondering if it was a one time thing or meant something more. You let out a deep sigh, instantly regretting it and massaging your forehead.

You didn't notice Angel coming into the kitchen, asking if you were alright. You told her about your headache and severe nausea and she reached into a tall cabinet, pulling out a pill bottle. “Here.” She passed two of the pills and a bottle of water. “This should help, but be careful because it’s going to make you kind of tired.” You thanked her and swallowed the pills without question, followed by downing the entire bottle of water.

You sat beside the window with a large mug of coffee that you made for yourself, looking at the heavy rain that pelted against the window, just thinking about the possible outcomes now. It wasn't like you were regretting the past night, you just never had an experience like that.

Just after hearing a deep cough from behind you, you were taken back to reality. "Angel told me you were feeling sick, is everything alright?" You turned around, seeing Leon stand in the door frame. You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words.

"Yea.. it's just, well.. I don't really know actually." You took another sip from your coffee and felt Leon taking a seat next to you.

"Is it because of what happened last night?" He looked at you worried, scared that he might have taken it too far back then. You tried explaining it to him, failing miserably. “Are you embarrassed to be with an old man like me?” Leon put himself down. You shook your head, too hard making you feel sick again but you tried to ignore it.

"That's not it.. I'm just.. I don't want this to be just another one night stand to you. I don't know what I want but-"

“I won’t abandon you, if that is what you’re scared of.” Leon looked at you seriously and took your hand in his. You weren't really sure if there was still some alcohol inside your body controlling your actions, but you brought your head closer to his. You weren't really sure what it was between you and Leon, but you knew you were way more than just friends.

You felt Leon's hand on your cheek, also getting closer to you now. You closed your eyes waiting for him to take the next step. And before you realized it, you felt his soft lips resting on yours sending butterflies through your entire body. You smiled into the kiss, leaning closer to him.

“This is just like the movies huh?” He chuckled.

----

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