#and three shots when either one of them has their hands on the other's naked body

[soulofapatrick]

Delirium - Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Y/N gets injured on patrol and the pain makes you say things you have always wanted to say (I can do a part two if wanted)

Words: 2k

Warnings: swearing; injury; taking pills (literally painkillers)

Y/N’s POV

“FUCK JESSE!” I cry out, trying to wriggle away, not having much of a pain tolerance, but he lays a strong arm over my waist and puts most of his weight on it to keep me steady. I squeeze my eyes shut in agony and I can’t help leaving half moons in his forearm as he stitches the gaping hole in my side. It’s the least of my pain right now, my ankle is either broken or at least sprained while my leg is very much broken. 

Jesse decided he had to stitch up my wound first, or I’d bleed out, which means I still have the pain of him resetting my leg to wait for. I’m in so much pain I’m barely self-conscious about being in just my underwear in front of my best friend. We were on patrol when we got jumped by a hoard of 10-20 runners and clickers, and I got thrown off my horse and, of course, tumbled down the most rocky cliff side in the whole area. It was a close one, but we made it and neither of us got bitten, so that’s great but now I’m here in a cabin we don’t know is safe or not; I’m almost butt naked and slipping in and out of consciousness. 

We’re staying put because it’s too dangerous for Jesse to try and get me back in the condition I’m in and we’re pretty sure my horse, Cash, would have bolted straight back to town. They’ll send a search party when Cash returns without either of us in tow, so for now I just have to lie here as Jesse tends to me. 

I passed out again because I’m waking with a scream of pain and an echoing snap of my leg. Jesse looks up at me from where he’s now sat on the floor with my leg in his warm grip, an apologetic look in his charcoal eyes. His hands move down my leg to my ankle and I begin begging him not to and that it’ll be okay if we leave it. He has to squeeze his eyes shut and taking a deep breath before speaking quietly, “We’ll do it on three, okay?” 

“O-Okay.” I nod, hating to see him so mentally hurt by all this and gripping the sheets under me because this is going to hurt even more. I take a deep breath, “O-one,” then another, “Two.” Then I’m screaming again as Jesse popped the bone back into place. 

“I’m sorry.” He leans up between my legs and hugs me as tightly as safely possible without opening the stitches or jostling my leg. I hug him back, crying into his shoulder, feeling that familiar light-headedness again and I know he can sense it too because he’s laying me back down, “Sleep, I’ll be right here, okay?” 

I nod, gripping his hand tightly in mine as the pain takes over and I’m passing out again. 

The sound of a warning shot has me jolting away as Jesse calls into the hallway from where he’s kneeling by my side and his gun aimed at the door. “Who’s there?” 

“It’s us Jesse,” I recognise Ellie’s voice and Jesse just falls back against the bed, gun falling to the floor and face in his arms as his knees are brought to my chest. He’s exhausted and I don’t know how long I’ve been out, but from the look of the sky outside, I think I was out for at least half a day. The sun is still rising. 

Ellie appears in the doorway, shadowed by Joel as they take in the scene before them. It looks a lot worse than it is as the duvet cover thrown aside, drenched in blood and the sheets I’m laying on splattered with them too, so are my clothes and Jesse’s hands. He used the last of the water to clean the open wounds on my side and the cuts all over my body. 

“Check on him,” Joel’s gruff voice brings me back to the land of the living and it dawns me that I’m in my underwear in front of the man I have fallen in love with but his honey eyes don’t show any signs of anything other than concern. Ellie’s guiding Jesse into another room of the cabin while Joel rummages through his pack, pulling out a pair of sweatpants and a shirt. “What hurts?” 

I open my mouth to speak but even that hurts too much so Joel calls Jesse back in asking Jesse what happened and I just listen as Jesse’s smooth voice flows like velvet around my pain fogged mind, “We got jumped on the way to the lodge, Cash bolted and Y/N got thrown down the… well she got thrown down the cliff-“

“You mean that?!” Ellie’s pointing out the window at the mountain side that has obvious tracks of blood in the snow as Jesse rubs the back of his neck and nods, “How the fuck-“

“Where is she injured?” Joel cuts Ellie off, as if wanting to get me back as soon as possible. 

“I’ve cleaned and stitched up the worse wounds but she’s broken her left leg and her ankle was dislocated, I set them both. I think she’s got a couple of broken ribs, but she won’t tell me.” 

“Okay. Jesse, go saddle up, take her pack with you and Ellie, help me get her dressed. We want to get back to Jackson before the storm hits or any permanent damage is done.” Joel directs my two best friends and I feel myself on the verge of passing out again, barely feeling Ellie’s familiar hands on me or Joel’s calloused ones. A rough thumb is on my chin, parting my lips so two pills can be placed on my tongue and then there’s a rim of a bottle. I do as I’m told, swallowing the pills before I’m sitting back on the bed, this time dressed. 

The painkillers start to kick in, making me a little delirious by the time I’m sitting on Joel’s horse - Callus - with one of his arms around my waist holding me up as the four of us are on the route home. All I can focus on is Joel’s hand pressed against my stomach, grumbling to myself about there being too many layers between my skin and his hands. I’m leaning back into his comforting body, resting my head on his shoulder and giggling as the snow falling tickles my cheeks. 

I’m turning my face to look up at Joel’s cold-flushed one, but he doesn’t look at me. Too busy keeping the horse steady as Jesse’s leading the way back with Ellie behind us. I bring a hand up and lightly scratch his salt and pepper beard; the painkillers getting rid of my verbal filter. It seems as I’m suddenly booping him on the nose and mumbling, “You’re cute. I love you.” It seems it was spoken loud enough for Ellie to let out a choked sound behind us. 

Joel’s face finally turns down to look at me with an unreadable expression that has me shrinking in my seat, but my hand doesn’t want to stop gently scratching his beard. He just watches me for a second longer, those beautifully hazel eyes softening before he has to look up a Jesse’s calling to the people on watch to open the gates. He keeps a hold of me as we come to a stop, Maria and Tommy greeting us in the courtyard by the gates, helping me down after he’s jumped off. 

I cry out in pain, almost falling face first into the snow, having tried jumping down onto my broken-in-two-places left leg because the pain has generally made me so delirious still. Joel scoops me up bridal style and I’m giggling again, sticking my tongue 

out at Jesse, who is shaking his head fondly before he and Ellie disappear to take the horsies home. Joel’s talking to Tommy and Maria as we head towards the building that has been turned into a hospital/infirmary kind of place. I’m not listening to what he’s saying, just watching the way his brow creases with worry and his tongue darts out to wet those pretty lips every so often. My hands moving of its own accord again, moving from where I’ve looped them around his neck to run my thumb over his bottom lip. 

He stops talking and meets my gaze, conflict in his eyes as we enter the building. Tommy and Maria are talking to Theo - the doctor dude - while Joel sets me down on the bed but I let out a sound of protest, grabbing his large hand. He signs softly, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning over me, “Theo needs to check you over, okay? I’ll be right outside talking to Tommy and Maria.” He brushes a strand of my hair out of my eyes and I find myself nodding, eyes slipping shut at the feel of his chapped lips pressed to my forehead before he’s getting up and leaving me to get checked over. 

I think I definitely passed out again because the next time I surface I’m no longer in the hospital bed but a very soft one that smells like heaven and there’s a firm body pressed against my side. I groan, stretching until I let out pained hiss the stitches registering with me and the body next to me stirring too. 

“Easy now,” His voice is sleep filled and deep, the sound going straight south despite the pain I’m which has me blushing because why does this man have such a hold on me. Turning my head to the right I’m met by those hazel eyes that are rimmed golden in the sunlight streaming through the net curtains. He’s right there, noses almost brushing and breath mingling as we just watch each other. I want to move but I can’t, scared to ruin anything between us, but I don’t have to because he’s cautiously moving closer. His hand that was draped over my waist moves to cradle my cheek while he raises to his elbow so he’s hovering over me with eyes searching for some protest from me and finding nothing. 

His lips are gentle and hesitant against mine, thumb and finger gripping my chin and guiding my head as I begin to respond to the kiss and my eyes slide shut. I splay my hands on his bare, toned chest and run them over it, mapping every mole and scar that usually lay hidden under his shirt. He lets out a soft groan and it sends sparks through me but I don’t want this to be rushed, especially with the state I’m in so I pull back a little so I whisper against his lips, “You keep making sounds like that and we’ll be reopening those stitches with the way I jump you.” 

It sends a chuckle rumbling through his chest under my hands before his lips are on mine, even more delicately and he’s laying back down while pulling me with him as gently as possible. It works somehow, the cast on my leg removing any pain I thought I’d feel but then again I might just be drunk on everything Joel. 

His name slips from my lips like a prayer and his rough fingers are running along my spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake. I don’t want this to end; I don’t want to wake up from this beautiful dream. We have to separate for air but that doesn’t stop my trailing kisses down his throat, nipping at the sensitive skin and hearing how he reacts to every little thing before he’s laying me back down next to him. His chest rising and falling rapidly and those eyes darkened with want as he whispers, “We gotta stop or I won’t be able to.” 

“Then don’t.” 

“Darling-“ 

“Joel, you don’t know how long I have wanted this.” 

“We have all the time in the world baby girl.” 

All the time in the world.

#Joel Miller #Joel Miller smut #Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller one shot #Joel Miller x y/n #Joel Miller imagine #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller flulff #Joel Miller fic #Joel Miller fanfic #Joel Miller fanfiction #Pedro pascal smut #Pedro pascal fluff #the last of us #the last of us 2 #the last of us smut #the last of us fluff #the last of us fanfiction

[mammonsbby]

Hustlin'

A/N: I posted an excerpt of this a while back and finally got to finish it. Let me know what you think. Pairing: Mammon x GN!MC Rating: Mature Contains: Cursing, gambling, smut but it's not super explicit Words: 3367

✨Masterlist✨Drabbles✨

“Mam?” You say as you enter the secondborn’s bedroom. The white-haired demon looks up at you from where he’s bent over the pool table, about to take a shot. 

“Just a sec.” He concentrates and starts to line up his cue. He tests it. Once, twice. Then he strikes. The cue ball slams into the pyramid and when it breaks, three balls go rolling into pockets. Mammon beams, then looks up at you.

“Nice job!” You say, clapping your hands for him. You notice the way his cheeks darken at your praise.

“Thanks. So, what’s up, human?” He leans his cue up against the table to sling an arm around your shoulders. You’d come to ask if he wanted to grab dinner together, but… Now you’re getting a better, slightly evil, idea. 

“Uh, actually, I was going to ask if you could teach me that.” You say sheepishly. 

Mammon raises a brow. “You wanna play pool with The Great Mammon?”

You nod enthusiastically. “Yeah.” 

“Alright, I’ll do 20 Grimm a ball.” He says with a grin. 

You pout. “I don’t have any cash right now. How ‘bout an IOU?”

“Nope, don’t take IOUs.” He shakes his head. 

“You give plenty of them. And you never pay them back.” You point out.

“I know. ’s why I don’t take ‘em.” He grins.

“Mammonnnn.” You whine. He just laughs and wraps his arms around you. Then he screeches when you pinch his butt.

“Don’t fuckin’ do that!” He says, jumping away from you.

You stick your bottom lip out. “Can’t I get a cute little human discount or something?”

“Nope. I don’t give discounts either.” He answers. Then he mutters under his breath, “’specially not to people who pinch me in the ass.”

“Well… Instead of playing for cash, maybe we could make a bet instead.” You suggest, sitting down on the arm of the sofa.

Mammon’s ears perk up, just like you knew they would. “A bet?” He says, tilting his head. “What kinda bet?”

Now that you have his attention, you beckon him closer. He comes to stand in front of you. And he looks into your eyes, eager to hear the wager you have in mind. 

“How about… For every ball the other person gets into a… Hole thingy, you have to take something off?” You say, eyes hooded as you fiddle with the lapels of his jacket.

Mammon swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, “You wanna play strip pool?”

“Will you teach me?” You say, batting your lashes.

He considers it for a moment, chewing his bottom lip. “And we take off one thing after every ball?” 

You nod again, slowly. Mammon licks his lips. He likes the odds, but… Should he really make such a bet with someone who doesn’t know how to play? Before he thinks about it too much, he smirks and sticks his hand out. You give him yours and you shake on it. “Deal.”

“Rack ‘em up!” You say, excitedly grabbing a spare cue from the wall rack. 

“‘Rack ‘em up?’” He repeats, raising a brow. 

“What? I’ve seen movies.” You say, rubbing the little blue cube on the end of your cue. 

He chuckles and goes to reset the balls. If you were playing for money, he would feel bad for taking advantage, but… You just had to go and tempt him with his two favorite things— Gambling and naked MC.

“Alright, I’ll let you break. So, get over here.” He says, jerking his chin towards the head of the table.

You oblige and go to stand in front of him. “Show me what to do?”

“Sure.” Mammon puts his hands on your hips and has you bend slightly, then takes your cue from you. He demonstrates by laying the stick on his right thumb. “Hold it like this,” He breathes in your ear.

You look over your shoulder at him, “I put it on my thumb?”

“That’s how I do it.” He answers with a shrug.

You take the stick and hold it differently, with your fingers on the felt. “This is how they do it in movies.”

“You gonna trust movies over me?” Mammon asks, wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulls you flush against him and kisses your temple.

“You might tell me wrong so I’ll lose.” You point out.

“I wouldn’t lie to ya.” Mammon says, his voice husky as he presses his lips to your neck. You start to tilt your head for him, then realize what he’s doing. 

“Hey! Don’t try to distract me.” You grumble, swatting him away. He snickers as he backs away with his hands in the air. 

“I’ll stand over here,” He says from the other end of the table. “So you won’t be distracted.”

“Good.” You say. 

“Go ahead, bust ‘em up.” Mammon says, waving his hand. He watches you adjust your grip on the cue. 

“I hit the white one into the rest… Right?” You ask, making Mammon smile.

“Yep.” He says with a nod.

“Like this?” You pass the cue slowly through your fingers, waiting for his approval.

“Uhuh.” He closes his eyes and nods again. “Now, don’t be disappointed if—”

The loud crack of the cue ball striking the pyramid cuts him off. He opens his eyes and watches as all the balls start to bang off one another. After a couple seconds, the two ball bounces off the wall and rolls into a corner pocket. 

“I did it!” You shout, clapping your hands.

Mammon smiles, though he looks a bit bewildered. “Good job. Uh, now, you get to go again.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Them’s the rules.” Mammon says.

“What about our rules?” You say expectantly.

Mammon makes a confused face, “Huh?”

“Take off your jacket, babe.” You say with a wink.

“Oh, right.” Mammon flushes slightly as he starts to shrug out of it. He dumps the jacket on the couch. “Happy now?” 

“Mmhmm.” You grin, eyeing him like a hunter would its prey. Mammon looks at the floor and you start to chalk your stick again.

“Oh, right. Now, the next one that goes down determines who’s solids and who’s stripes. So, any of them is fair game.” Mammon says, trying to help. He’s so cute.

“Oh, okay.” You smile. And right away, you determine that your next target is the three. You smile and decide to mess with him. “Three in the side pocket,” You say, pointing out its route with the end of the cue before you line up the shot.

“You don’t have to call—”

The ball is sunk before he can finish his sentence, leaving him speechless. He gives you a wide-eyed look, like a deer in headlights. And you watch his face and he puts it together. You can practically hear the gears turning in his pretty head.

“You know how to play pool, don’t ya?”

“I do.” You laugh.

“Fuck.” Mammon curses. “I can’t believe you suckered me that easily.”

“Aw, don’t feel too bad. I learned from the best scammer in the entire Devildom.” You grin. 

“Don’t make me feel any better.” He scoffs, then takes off his glasses. He slides one leg into the collar of his shirt.

“Aw,” You click your tongue shamelessly. “I was hoping for the shirt next.”

“You don’t get to pick what I take off! It’s bad enough that you’re hustlin’ your own boyfriend!” Mammon exclaims.

“Hustling? Is that what I’m doing?” You ask, tilting your head. Now that you’ve picked solids, you shoot again, sinking the six. Mammon sighs and starts to take off one of his boots.

“Am I going to get to shoot, or are ya just gonna strip me?” He asks, dropping his shoe on the ground. He’s aggravated. And a little horny. But he ain’t telling you that, he hates being played!

You consider it. It would be fun to sweep the board and strip him down. But, since you feel bad for lying, you decide not to. You intentionally botch your next shot, sinking the cue ball. “There baby. Go ahead.”

Mammon grumbles, “Finally gonna let me play?” 

“Yep. Do your worst.” You challenge. 

“I will.” He promises. 

Boy, does he keep it. He pockets three balls in less than a minute and suddenly you’re missing both shoes and your hoodie. Okay… Maybe you shouldn’t have provoked him. 

He looks sort of dangerous like this. You can imagine him in any pool hall in the world, playing against pool sharks and rookies alike. Instead he’s playing you, and if you don’t think of something, he’s going to win. You’re sort of even now, each of you missing three items. You’re standing off to the side, watching as Mammon tries to decide his next move.

The look in his eyes is a familiar one. He’s so turned on he can’t fucking stand it! And you can tell. And he knows you can tell. He looks over at you and you smile sweetly. While he walks around the table to line up his shot, you curl your fingers around your cue. Then start to slide your hand up and down it, nice and slow.

“Just watch this, you’re not gonna get another shot.” Mammon declares confidently. Then he looks up and sees your hand sliding up and down the pool stick. He makes a strangled noise and nearly drops his own cue. You hold in a laugh as he fumbles with it.

He tries to ignore you and goes to take his shot, but at the last second he glances over, just in time to watch you rub your thumb over the tip of the cue. His hand moves without his permission, slamming the cue ball with so much force that it bounces off the table and rolls until it hits the base of the stairs.

“Damn it!” He curses, slapping the felt with his hand.

“Aw, babe. Did something distract you?” You ask, feigning innocence.

“No!” He shouts quickly. “I— I’ve only got one boot on. My feet ain’t even and it threw me off.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll even you out.” You say with a smile as you pick the white ball up and set it on the table. You sink the five next, it was an easy shot. Mammon grumbles something about cheating and being sexy, but removes his other boot regardless.

Next, you take a moment to think before taking out the four. Mammon huffs and leans against the table. He removes one sock and starts to stand up. “Both socks count as one,” You say, chalking your cue again.

“Is that so?” Mammon asks, a snowy brow arched. You smirk.

“Wouldn’t want you to be uneven again,” You tease. Mammon exhales through his nose and gives an indignant look. Then rips off his other sock and tosses them both towards the hamper. He moves to stand, but you hold a hand up.

“You don’t have to get up.” You say, punctuating the sentence by sending the seven ball into a pocket. He’s down to just his t-shirt, jeans, and boxers now. He knows there’s no way you’ll accept any of his half a dozen rings. He’s surprised you let him off with the sunglasses earlier.

“Damn it to hell. How are you so good at this?” He asks. Then he sighs and peels his shirt off over his head to reveal his chest. 

“Mm,” You sigh at the sight. “There it is.”

Mammon flushes. “Shut up.” 

“Nope.” You say with a pop. “Now, you just sit there and be a pretty boy for me, okay?” 

Your last ball is crowded by a couple of Mammon’s. There’s no way… Wait a sec, maybe if you can… You start to line up what’s hopefully an incredible trick shot. But, just as you start to slam your cue forwards, Mammon moans, high and pitchy, and your shot is ruined. The cue ball spins off to the side and stops before it hits anything.

When you look up, Mammon is still sitting on the edge of the table. But now, his back is arched and his head thrown back. And his hands… 

You swallow deeply when you realize what he’s doing. “Are you… playing with your nipples right now?”

He gives you a sideways glance, his eyes lidded. “Me? No, I— Nnng. Ahhh,” He cuts off with another moan. “I’m just sitting here being, mm, pretty for ya.” He says, fingers twisting his nipples.

Well, he’s not wrong. The light over the table casts a glow over him. His dark skin and toned muscles, the position he’s put himself in, the sounds he’s making… He’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever fucking seen. 

You cough. “It’s your turn.”

“What’s the matter, human?” He asks, taking his cue.

“You’re a cheater.” You say.

“Uhuh. Everyone knows that.” He admits. Then he leans in close to you and you know now that you’re the prey. You always have been. 

You shudder at the thought, then look away.

 “What? It’s okay for you to give your cue stick a handy but I can’t touch my own chest?” He says, lifting your chin.

You bite your lip and look away. “Oh, just… Take your fucking shot.”

He laughs as he does. And manages to sink two balls at once. Your face falls. 

“Hmm, I think that leaves you in what? Just underwear?” Mammon asks cockily, leaning on his cue like it’s a cane. 

Unfortunately, he’s right. You step away and pull your shirt off. Then push your pants down and step out of them. You feel his eyes on you. Mammon gives a low whistle, which makes your face heat. 

“Ain’t fun, is it?” He says as he looks you up and down. Your entire body starts to feel hot. Luckily, he’s just as affected. You can tell. 

“Baby?” You say. 

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

Mammon turns back towards you and he looks upset. “Don’t start trying to trick me like that now. That’s fucked up.”

“I’m not. I swear.” You say, moving closer to him. When you wind your arms around his neck, your bare chests touch and you can feel his arousal against your hip. And in the way his hands come to squeeze your waist. 

“I love ya too.” He breathes. Then you pull him down for a kiss. When you finally take your tongue out of his mouth, he looks torn between finishing the game and throwing you on the table to have his way with you. Finally though, he makes his decision and turns back towards the table. You should’ve known he wouldn’t give up the game.

You sigh softly. Then, as he bends over to take another shot, your eyes are drawn to the back of his jeans. He turns to look at you with a soft smile, then starts to aim. Before he can, you grab two handfuls of ass and he shrieks.

“MC!” He throws his cue across the table in surprise and his shot is absolutely fucked. Mammon turns to glare at you, betrayed. “You said you loved me.” 

“I do, baby. I love you so, so much. That wasn’t a trick.” You peck his lips, but he’s not convinced. His brows are still knitted together. “Okay, maybe the butt groping was out of line.” You admit, then you shrug. “It’s not my fault you have a great ass.”

He can’t argue there. So, he just rolls his eyes and steps aside. “Go on then.”

You’ve got one ball left. And Mammon makes no move to stop you from sinking it. Instead, he stands completely still beside you. And, once the ball is down, he undoes his jeans and lets them slide down… Your eyes widen and he looks a bit embarrassed. 

“Guess I didn’t have boxers on.” He says. “I can go some, if you want.” 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” You say. All you need is to sink the eight ball and he’s yours. You glance back over at him. He’s completely nude, save for his jewelry. A familiar shimmer catches your attention. “Fuck, that damn dick piercing.” You whine.

He grins, “You love it.”

“Hm, you’re naked. Does that mean I win?” You ask, ready to jump his bones and fuck him silly. 

“Hell no. There’s still balls on the table.” He says, shaking his head. 

You ogle him for a moment, watching the way his dick twitches under your gaze. “You don’t seem like you’re interested in the game…”

Mammon’s face warms. “Either way, we ain’t done until you sink the eight. So get on it.”

You turn to examine the table. The eight ball is wedged between two striped balls and the wall. You don’t particularly care if you ‘win,’ because you know that Mammon can pick up the slack quickly if you fail. And either way, the outcome is the same. You’re going to fuck no matter who drops the last ball.

You take a shot, and all three balls rattle. Miraculously, the black ball bangs around three corners then finally sinks into a corner pocket. Mammon is on you before it hits the bottom. He sets you up on the table and puts himself between your legs. One of his knees grinds away at your crotch and your eyes roll.

He presses against you until you’re lying down and climbs over you to give you desperate, heated kisses. Your hands are in his hair and his arms on either side of you, holding him up. When you finally break apart, you pant for a moment before saying, “Bed.”

“What? Not comfy enough for ya?” He asks, a gleam in his eyes.

“No, it’s hard as a rock. Besides, we’ll ruin the felt.” You say. 

Mammon takes you to the bed instead. And once you’re there, he captures your lips in his and he grinds his hips into yours wildly. Both of you cum before you can even take your underwear off, which is slightly embarrassing. But your ridiculous form of foreplay had gotten you both a lot closer than you realized. As you come down from your highs, Mammon kisses your shoulder. Then he sighs as he flops down next to you.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, still trying to recover your breath.

“You know, I haven’t lost a game of pool in over two hundred years.” He says.

“I find that hard to believe. You seemed to have an awfully hard time concentrating.” You tease, rolling your head to lay it on his chest.

He gives you a look. “Are you kiddin’ me? If you hadn’t pulled all those little stunts, I woulda destroyed you.”

“I don’t know… I think I’m better at pool.” You say, taking one of his hands so you can play with his fingers. You start to twist one of his rings.

“No way, I’m the Avatar of Greed for a reason.” He says.

“I guess so…” You trail off and he snatches his hand away.

“Don’t believe me? Double or nothin’ I could beat you, as long as you don’t try anything.” Mammon dares. 

You raise a brow. “What is ‘double’ if we’re playing for sex?”

He thinks for a moment, then whispers in your ear. Your eyes widen. “Rack ‘em up.” You say, already starting to climb out of bed.

Mammon laughs and follows you.

It turns out that he’s right, he is the Avatar of Greed for a reason. And without dirty tricks— which were so below you, MC— you don’t have a leg to stand on. He beats you with four balls still on the table and pulls you back over to the bed for round two. 

“Oh fuck, MC!” He squirms under you.

“You won. Why am I topping?” You ask, thrusting into him. 

His eyes roll back. “Ah, ah, this, nng, is what I wanted.” 

You laugh and continue to pound into him, not giving him a moment to catch his breath until you’re both finished. You fall onto the bed beside him and try to catch your breath. He’s still panting himself, completely fucked out. 

“Hey, Mammon?” You say after a few moments.

“Huh?” 

“Wanna teach me how to play poker tomorrow?”

-

My Ko-Fi is in my pinned post! Thank you for reading. Please Reblog, it really helps me.

#mammon x reader #mammon smut #obey me mammon #mammon obey me #mammon x mc #mammon #obey me smut #bottom mammon

[finniestoncrane]

Headcanons for Riddler(s) finding out s/o has an OnlyFans?

Riddlers x SW!Reader

Riddler Headcanons this was the most fun to imagine, because if i wasn't unappealing, unfocused, lazy and unable to commit to more than one thing at a time i would enjoy having an onlyfans lmao but i could definitely see the mean green beans reactions and fuck it i added that twojar bastard because frankly i'm in love with him (blaming @riddlemeri and her exceptional fic for that but really it's my own lustful fault) y'all getting more bang for your buck, i can just keep adding riddlers until there are none left request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi minors DNI!! 🔞 cw for nsfw stuff: sex work, suggestive language, daddy!kink

arkham

you know it would be very easy to hack into this thing. is there a way to scam though? what do you mean the DA is subscribed to you? and you haven't tried to blackmail him yet? oh sweetheart, let daddy take a look and see what we can do with this together. not to fall into my own headcanon of arkham!eddie being super into 80s pop, but he's definitely constantly humming that one line "i've got the brains, you've got the looks, let's make lots of money" to convince you that this is a good plan

unburied

he has one too! i mean it's just videos and pics of him jerking off in various spots in the prison uploaded with a phone he definitely shouldn't have. sometimes he chats with people too and lets them see his big money shots if they answer correct his riddles three. insufferable though, he absolutely will not be collaborating with you or even giving you a shout out because you're ranked waaaaaaay lower than him in popularity and he can't take that kind of hit babe.

young justice

baby's first jealous fit lmao. but once he's over it, it's kind of hot. you know YOU KNOW he is the kind of partner who would subscribe to you for the goods because he's such an absolute simp for you. and all he wants more than anything in the world is to see what outfits/hair/makeup/toys/anything you have planned for the evening before anyone else does, like a sneak peak. he also very much could get into watching you from another room even though you're right there with him

telltale

urgh so many questions. what is it why are you naked why are men commenting why are you getting money woah that's a lot of money why aren't you doing this more? but you're telling him that men are willing to pay this much money for something he gets for free? my god, the ego on this man. it has been blown up, out of proportion

gotham

urgh, disappointing that you would choose a form of making money that was legal when you could be out here doing far more criminal things. gosh! oh dear...you have a lot to learn still. also, while we're on the theme of things that disappoint him, if only you'd told him sooner he could have got you a spiffy little green outfit to wear. maybe something with some question marks on it. no he's not marking his territory, only stupid people get jealous and he's smart enough to know you still love him most...right?

twojar

ok first of all, when were you planning on telling him? second of all, why didn't you tell him sooner? and third, would you let him do stuff with you and become a couples channel? dude is into banging, dude is into money and dude is into you so a way to combine all three and get to show off that he's the one with his hands all over you? you are literally making his dreams come true

dano

hey it's like his stream! except yours makes money and his makes...untethered violence among the suggestible masses. maybe you can do a collab together, feature on each other's stuff? also he made his own logo, just in case you uh...wanted him to make you a logo too? branding is everything after all. either way you know after every stream he's dropping links to your content to boost you because he's a supportive digital literate partner

capullo

absolutely not into it in the slightest and will get overwhelmingly jealous about the idea of other people getting to see what he thinks should only be his. not that he's into monogamy, he's just a possessive and jealous and insecure asshole. on the plus side though, he will give you an allowance of the amount you were making if you want, if you stop doing it, and no no no, he insists

#finnie writes #riddler #the riddler #batman #riddler imagine #the riddler imagine #riddler smut #fanfic #the riddler fanfic #riddler fanfic #riddler x reader #riddler x you #riddler headcanon #ridler scenario #the riddler headcanon #gotham riddler #gotham #the batman #arkham riddler #young justice riddler #dano riddler #zero year riddler #q #batman unburied riddler #bu riddler #telltale riddler #twojar riddler #twojar!riddler

[the-darkness-does-not-bargain]

The Incident of 1998, M

Here, I threw this together on a whim and two shots of vodka.  It takes place in mine and @horse-in-a-star-spangled-rodeo‘s Immortal Roommates AU, where Lilith is a vampire, Ava is an immortal, and they live together.  Enjoy <3

"Ava, think very carefully before you do whatever it is you're about to."  

Lilith has never been more serious in her existence, but Ava just looks down at her cards and bites her lip in that particular way that makes Lilith’s hands twitch.  “Ava, I will throw this table clean across the room, I mean it.”

The tension in the cramped game room is palpable, even to the people baked out of their minds on pot, which is most of them.  There are already three extremely nervous stoners at the table with them, their red eyes searching for the nearest avenue of escape as they fiddle with their own cards.  Lilith’s eyes, conversely, are dark and sharply focused, fixated on the woman sitting across from her.  

She knows this can end in only one of two ways.  Both of them are down to two cards, but only one person can win.  And they can either end this game like civilized people, or Lilith tears this shitty fucking house to the ground.

For a moment, she thinks her warning actually works, but then Ava gets that look in her eyes, the look that once got them exiled from Londinium for two score winters, and Lilith knows it’s over before it even starts.

Ava places a Draw 4 card on top of Lilith’s blue 8 and whispers, “Uno”, while staring at Lilith like she’s naked.

The table goes first, flying neatly over the heads of the other three players and hitting the television with a thunderous crash, disrupting a passionately emotional session of Banjo Kazooie.  Ava goes next, when Lilith picks her up by the front of her slutty little half-shirt that she knew would drive the vampire insane and tosses her through the wall leading into the kitchen.

Screams and curses erupt around them.  The inebriated humans start to flee, but Lilith simply pushes past them on the way to her goal.  Ava is picking herself up from a pile of broken wood and drywall, and she still manages to goad Lilith with a smirk as she watches her advance.  She even opens her mouth to say something, doubtless a completely unnecessary and stupid joke, but Lilith can’t have that, so she drags Ava forward by her shirt again and crashes their lips together.

What happens from there is really just nature taking its course.  Lilith tosses Ava around, wrecking the furniture and tearing through the load-bearing walls as she does, and fucks her hard on a far-flung couch cushion while the roof crashes down around them.

“You broke the rule,” Ava pants as Lilith ruts away inside her, making her bite-covered tits bounce inside the tatters of her bra.  “Winner gets to top, remember?”

Lilith scoffs, but it comes out like a snarl.  “Like you didn’t plan for exactly this to happen,” she accuses.  “Dressing like that, making me come here strapped.  You knew exactly what you were doing.”  She wraps a hand tight around Ava’s throat and shifts her hips forward, pounding her cock deeper into Ava’s soaked cunt.

“You could’ve said no,” Ava points out, grinning up at her even as Lilith’s fingers cut off her air supply.

“You knew I wouldn’t,” Lilith counters, leaning down and kissing her as more bits of the roof fall on them from above.  She shields Ava beneath her body without once losing the rhythm of her thrusts.  Because she’s gentlemanly like that.

The kiss breaks when she hears sirens in the far-off distance.  “Pigs are coming,” she tells Ava solemnly, who responds only by rolling her hips hard on Lilith’s dick.

“Think you can get off before they get here?”

Lilith scoffs at the challenge.  She shakes off the bits of plaster and broken shingles before retreating just long enough to flip Ava onto her stomach and pull her up by the ass.  A single thrust is all it takes for her to bottom out again, as she buries a hand in Ava’s hair and pushes her face into the cushion.

“Why let me win something so easily after tormenting me all night?”

Ava just laughs, the sound only slightly muffled by polyester fabric.  “Call it a consolation prize.  You’re an awfully sore loser, εραστής.”

Lilith growls.  “I’ll show you sore.”

It goes without saying that Uno is summarily banned from all future game nights, joining a growing list of games too destructive to be played in group settings, along with checkers, pinochle, and pachisi.

#warrior nun #ava silva #sister lilith #my writing #immortal roommates au #in which i do not care if i'm breaking the rules of uno #also #2 out of 3 weed smoking girlfriends acquired #but with your help we can definitely find the third

[welcometojackass2022]

Put Me In A Movie (Joe Frantz x Reader) [Smut] (Jackass, CKY, VLB)

@chasingwinehouse you’re the official Joe Frantz consultant as always :) credit to you for the GIFS and for the awesome idea. Can’t wait to see what your favorite parts are! Hope you enjoy!

Yes, the title is a Lana Del Rey reference. Frantz reminds me of every single Lana song ever. Also, notice how I used a GIF of Frantz shaking hands with Gina Lynn here cuz she’s a porn star and he’s filming a porno here…parallels I tell you.

Description: Frantz is directing a porn video (I don’t know why, maybe it’s for the sake of art) and you and Novak are the stars. Unfortunately, Novak’s doing a horrible job following Frantz’s directions, and Frantz can’t stand when his leads don’t do what he wants them to, so he has Novak step aside and watch as Frantz demonstrates what he wants Novak to do to you by…doing it to you himself. Basically, Novak stands back and watches while Frantz fucks you to show Novak how he needs to fuck you for the porn video.

Warnings: Female Reader, Smut, Cursing, Filming of a porn video, Novak’s fucking you on camera but isn’t doing it right so Frantz pushes him aside and shows him how it’s done, Frantz asks for consent before he does anything with you, Frantz fucks you on camera in front of the camera crew, Novak’s turned on and jerks off to the whole thing

@asskickedbygirl tagging you as always.

“Don’t look at the camera, Novak, I’m not gonna say it again. Keep your eyes on her. Move your left hand down, rub your thumb over her nipple, yep, just like that…okay, now take her nipple into your mouth, keep making eye contact with her…yeah, perfect, just like that. Don’t look at the fucking camera.” The three of you were in a medium sized bedroom, you and Novak laying out on the bed and Frantz standing behind one of the cameras as he watched the two of you and gave out orders for what he wanted the two of you to do to each other next. You and Novak were both naked, his mouth on your boob as he stared up at you with a sensual look, his free hand gripping your hip and his hard cock pressed against your thigh. Frantz had randomly decided that he wanted to film a porn video, and you and Novak were the obvious choices; Novak was a shameless sex fiend who had no issue with being naked and having sex in front of other people, and you’d been close with the CKY/Viva La Bam crew for a long time now, even having a few appearances in the Viva La Bam TV show and in Haggard. You were initially hesitant about fucking Novak on camera, given how often he seemed to get STDs and how much of a sleaze he could be, but Frantz had insisted on Novak getting an STD test before filming and had promised you that Novak would be on his best behavior, so you eventually agreed to the idea.

“Alright, sweetheart, I need you to rub your thigh up against Novak’s shrimp dick, can you do that for me?” You did as he instructed, holding back laughter when Novak shot Frantz an annoyed look. “Don’t look at the camera, Novak, Jesus Christ. Okay, now rub your fingers over her pussy and make her nice and wet. Perfect. Zoom in on her face here…perfect. Alright, let’s take a quick five minute break and then we’ll move on from the foreplay.” You and Novak got up from the bed, and you picked up one of the blankets to wrap around yourself as you sat on the edge of the bed. Frantz walked over to you with an endearingly awkward smile on his face, looking slightly red from what was either nervousness or just him being flustered for whatever reason. “Everything okay? Are you good to keep going or is there any issues you need to bring up?” You smiled at him, making his face go even redder. “I’m all good, Frantz, thanks for asking. Novak’s being way less crude than I thought he’d be, I’m pleasantly surprised.” Frantz laughed. “I told him to behave himself today or else I’d ask Rake to film this with you instead.” You grinned, looking over to watch Novak as he strode across the room (butt naked and totally shameless about it) to grab a banana from the craft services table. “He’s definitely not gonna take any chances there. He’s doing pretty good with the foreplay so far, but I guess I’ll have to wait to see whether he’s as good at actual sex.”

Frantz grimaced. “I mean, I’ve been forced to hear him fucking random girls through the walls of hotel rooms plenty of times, and from what I’ve heard he’s not too bad, but I don’t know how he’ll do this time. The positions I want him to do are kinda complex and I don’t know if he’s gonna be able to comprehend half the words I’m saying when he’s got your naked body so close to his face.” You laughed, letting your grip on the soft blanket loosen a little bit to flash some of your cleavage at Frantz, who went bright red as if he hadn’t just seen you completely naked getting your tits sucked by Novak only a few minutes earlier. “I’m sure he’ll do fine. I know you’re a bit of a perfectionist but sex seems to be Novak’s speciality so I doubt we’ve got too much to worry about.” Frantz started to respond, but was cut off by Novak returning from the craft services table and throwing himself back down on the bed, still proudly showing off his genitals like there weren’t at least five other people in the room (people with cameras, no less). “Alright, babe, let’s get back into this before my dick gets soft!” You burst out laughing at his bluntness, laughing even harder when you saw the disgusted look Frantz gave Novak. “Have some fucking class, Novak, you’re speaking to a lady. A very beautiful lady, no less.” You blushed at the compliment, but Novak just rolled his eyes. “Class? We’re filming a porno.”

Novak had a good point, but you held back your laughter; it would have been rude to laugh right after Frantz had tried to stick up for you like that. Frantz shook his head in disbelief at Novak’s attitude and walked back over to the cameras, calling all of the employees back over to continue filming. “Alright, sweetheart, go ahead and take the blanket off and you two get back into that position you were in last time. Novak, start fingering her again, and keep your dick against her thigh. Kiss her while you’re doing this, or else it’ll look really awkward. There you go. Okay, now Novak, this is where the foreplay ends. Here’s what you’re gonna do, you’re gonna get on your back and let her ride you reverse cowgirl style and then after a few minutes of that you’re gonna flip her over into doggy style, got it?” Novak pulled his fingers out of you and stared up at Frantz with a confused frown. “Huh?” Frantz face-palmed in frustration. “Don’t look at the camera, Novak, how many times do I have to say it? I said get her into reverse cowgirl for a bit and then flip her over into doggy style.” Novak still looked confused, but he did as he was told, switching with you so he was on his back and you were on top of him. You turned around to face away from him as you sank down on his cock, riding him for a minute or two as you waited for Frantz to give the next direction.

Frantz kept his eyes on the camera, not wanting to look directly at the sight of you naked out of respect for you, and after a couple minutes, he glanced over just long enough to give another direction. “Okay, now grab her hips and flip her over into doggy style.” Novak grabbed your hips with obvious uncertainty and tried to flip you over so he was on top and fucking you from behind, like Frantz had said, but his arms clearly weren’t strong enough to perform such a maneuver, and he ended up accidentally slamming you down onto the bed on your belly, awkwardly falling down on top of you with his chest pressed to your back. You grimaced, not out of pain but out of embarrassment on Novak’s behalf. “Fuck, sorry, (Y/n), I swear I didn’t mean to do that.” He quickly pulled himself up off of your back and helped you pull yourself up into a sitting position, and Frantz immediately face-palmed from where he was standing. “Jesus Christ, Novak, what the hell was that? (Y/n), are you okay?” He came over to check on you, and you nodded, sympathetically rubbing Novak’s shoulder. “Yeah, I’m all good, don’t worry boys.” The concern left Frantz’s face once he’d been given confirmation that you were okay, and he turned to Novak with a pissed off expression. “Seriously, Novak? All you had to do was flip her over, how was that too difficult for you?” Novak raised his hands defensively. “My arms are weak, man, I probably couldn’t flip over a ten year old. Your explanation didn’t really make sense either.”

Frantz looked like he was physically resisting the urge to tackle Novak and strangle him. “How did my explanation not make sense? I said you need to flip her over into doggy style, how is that not easy to understand?” Novak shrugged. “I’m a visual learner, man, I need to be able to see it first so I know what to do. Look, do you want me to try it again? It’s probably just gonna end the same way it did the first time but if it’ll make you chill out then I’ll—” Frantz shushed Novak, rubbing his forehead like he was starting to get a headache as he shook his head. “Just shut up, Novak, you’re gonna give me a goddamn migraine….you know what? Get up. Go. Stand over there with the cameraman.” Novak stared at him, confused, and Frantz pulled him up off the bed and pushed him towards the cameraman, who was still aiming the camera at the bed as he filmed the encounter. Everyone in the room was visibly confused as to what Frantz’s plans were now that he had kicked one of the two main actors out of the bed, but you merely grinned as you waited to see what he would do. As soon as Novak had made it over to the cameraman and was watching, Frantz looked down at you and pointed to the place beside you on the bed. “May I?” You raised an eyebrow at this, but nodded, curious to see what he’d do, and Frantz quickly climbed onto the bed beside you, clearly still annoyed with Novak’s incompetence.

“I give you one simple instruction and you can’t even follow it. You’re getting paid to fuck a pretty woman on camera and you somehow mess that up, I mean Jesus Christ, Novak. You want a visual so bad, I’ll give you one. Stand right there with the cameraman and watch everything I’m about to do. If you still somehow manage to mess it up after this, I’m replacing you with Rake. Alright, sweetheart, do you mind if I show Novak what he needs to do?” Your eyes widened as you realized what he wanted to do, and you nodded eagerly; you’d wanted to be in this position with Frantz for as long as you’d known him, so there was no way you were gonna give up an opportunity like this. Frantz quickly unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans and reached in to fish his cock out, and when he pulled it out, your eyes went even wider. It was massive. You’d heard Bam and the others say that Frantz had a “meat bat” and that his cock was the biggest they’d ever seen, but you always just assumed they were joking or exaggerating. Now that you were looking at it in person, they clearly hadn’t been doing either of those things. Frantz’s dick was at least eight inches long and so thick that you’d probably be barely able to wrap your own hand around it, much less your mouth or your pussy. God, he’s not even fully hard yet and it’s already that big. Frantz didn’t even seem to notice your shocked reaction; he was seemingly too distracted by his own annoyance at Novak.

He firmly jerked his shaft in his hand as it became fully erect, gently rubbing at your dripping pussy with his free hand and pushing a finger inside you to prepare you for his cock as he glanced back at Novak to explain everything he was doing. “You paying attention, Novak? Here in a second I’m gonna have her get on top. By the way, I want you to pay attention while she’s doing that. You just laid there like a dead fish when she was riding you earlier.” In any other situation Novak would have immediately fired back with a witty retort, but he was clearly too shocked at the sight of Frantz getting ready to fuck you to actually come up with anything, and so he silently nodded in agreement as he looked on. Frantz pumped his fingers inside you a couple more times to get you ready for his cock and then gently pulled them out, moving to lay on his back as he gestured for you straddle his lap. “Alright, sweetheart, go ahead and get on top and then you can just start riding whenever you’re ready.” You eagerly climbed on top of him, facing away from him in the reverse cowgirl position and wrapping your hand around the base of his cock to keep it steady as you hovered over him so that the tip was pressed against your dripping wet entrance. Frantz’s hands automatically came up to grip your hips supportively as he helped you to gradually lower yourself down onto his cock head.

The tip of his fat cock immediately stretched out your tight pussy, a soft gasp leaving your mouth as he pulled down on your hips to make you slide farther down on his thick shaft. You were facing Novak from this position, and his eyes were locked on the sight of your pussy wrapped around Frantz’s cock, his own cock still hard against his thigh. Frantz lifted his head up to make sure Novak was paying attention as he continued to pull you further down on his dick, narrating each and every movement he made so Novak would understand what to do when it was his turn again. “You see how I’m grabbing her hips and pulling her up and down on it? You need to do that, you had your arms down at your sides the whole time and it makes you look like you’re scared to touch her even though she’s literally riding you. Put a little work in, Novak, it’s not gonna kill you to be more energetic.” Novak had started jerking off at this point and was too distracted with that to give Frantz a reply, but Frantz barely seemed to notice given that most of his attention was on fucking you properly. Once he’d pulled you all the way down on his cock, he loosened his grip on your hips to let you bounce freely on his shaft, and you quickened your pace, tightening up around him to see what kinds of sounds you could get from him; he let out a low moan, and it spurred you on even more, prompting you to ride his cock even faster.

“Yeah, sweetheart, just like that, good job. Listen, if there’s anything you want me to do, go ahead and tell me now so Novak can see what he needs to do later.” He rubbed his hands over your hips and ass, cursing softly under his breath when you took his big cock all the way to the base and then tightened up around it. “You can smack my ass if you want—fuck.” The fat tip of his cock hit your g-spot, and you pulled off of it again to tease the head with the lips of your pussy. “Great idea, sweetheart, that’ll look really good on camera.” Frantz slid his hand down from your hip to grab at your ass, squeezing one cheek in his hand and then bringing his palm down on it with a loud, firm smack. “When Novak does it I’ll make sure we’ve got a camera filming this angle so we can actually get footage of him smacking your ass for the video.” You resisted the urge to laugh as you leaned forward a bit to change the angle; only someone like Frantz would be planning out his camera work while fucking a girl in the middle of a crowded film set. He brought his hand down on your ass again with another loud, firm smack that made your pussy throb, and you moaned loudly as you sank all the way down on his cock again. You could see Novak was still pumping his cock as he stood beside the cameraman, and a small part of you hoped he’d accidentally blow his load right then and there so Frantz would get pissed off and possibly fuck you even more roughly.

Frantz’s thick fingers came up to tangle in your hair, gently pulling your head to the side to make you look back at him as he spoke. “I’m gonna flip you over into doggy style here in a second, so just be ready sweetheart. Make sure Novak’s looking, this is the part he fucked up the most.” Luckily for Frantz, Novak was looking. Very intensely. Maybe too intensely. To the point where you wondered if he was even blinking. Nevertheless, Frantz stuck his head up to make sure Novak was watching everything. “You paying attention, Novak? We’re getting to the part where you fucked up, so make sure you’re really focusing on what I do. And get your hand off your fucking dick, dude, have a little self-respect.” Novak pointedly ignored the second half of the sentence, and Frantz rolled his eyes and laid his head back down, releasing your hair from his grip (much to your disappointment) and moving his hands down to grab at your hips as he gently pulled you off his cock; he gave you a look of confirmation to ensure you were ready, and then, without further warning, he tightly gripped your hips and effortlessly flipped you over into doggy style, quickly pushing his thick cock back inside you and pushing down on your lower back so your belly was against the bed and your back was arched. Novak and the camera crew clapped, and Frantz jokingly took a half-bow as he thrust his cock inside you with a fast, slightly rough pace and brought a few firm smacks down on your ass.

“See, Novak? Nothing to it.” You had expected him to stop after the flipping since that was what he had wanted to show Novak to begin with, but he continued to thrust into you, stretching your tight pussy out from behind as he explained all of his movements. “You didn’t get this far, Novak, but when you flip her into doggy style, you want to make sure you’re doing a lot more than just fucking her from behind or else it’s gonna look really boring. Sweetheart, throw out some ideas for me.” The thought of Frantz gripping your hair immediately came to mind, along with a few other things you’d always wanted him to do to you, and you pushed your hips back against him to make his cock go deeper inside you as you offered up a few ideas. “Pull my hair a little bit, smack my ass again, grab my tits, rub my clit while you fuck me, maybe press your hand against my throat?” It was probably more ideas than he’d expected you to have, but he looked pleased, and he pointedly looked back at Novak. “You better write those ideas down, Novak, they’re golden.” You blushed, internally praying that Frantz would do the things you’d listed, and sure enough, he resumed his grip on your hair; with his free hand, he alternated between smacking your ass and rubbing soothing circles over it, occasionally moving it between your legs to play with your clit as he thrust his cock all the way inside you. After a particularly forceful thrust, you felt his hips stutter for the first time, and you realized he was close to cumming.

Frantz gripped your ass and pulled you further back on his cock, roughly pounding your pussy as he moved his free hand from your hair to the base of your throat, gently pressing down on it as you tilted your head back to make eye contact with him. As professional as he’d been through all of this, he had a darkly lustful look in his eyes that made you whine softly as you tightened up around him, desperately fucking yourself on his cock and letting his fat tip slam against your g-spot until you came on his cock with a loud moan, tightening up around him as you did so. “Make sure she cums first when you fuck her too, Novak. Be a gentleman.” With that last remark, Frantz let out a low groan and slammed his hips forward one more time, filling your pussy with his load and applying slightly more pressure to your throat as he bit down on your bare shoulder. The room was totally silent for a moment as everyone processed the fact that their boss had just fucked the female lead of the porn video they were supposed to be shooting, and when you glanced back at Frantz, he was staring down at the sight of his cock inside you with a look of slight shock, his face starting to go bright red as the realization of what he’d just done finally hit him. “….did you get all of that, Novak?” Novak, who was still jerking off, shook his head. “No, not really. The cameras did, though.” The cameraman who’d been filming the entire thing nodded, and Frantz went even redder.

You tried not to laugh at the look on his face, but he was so clearly surprised at himself that it was endearingly hilarious. “Frantz? Are you okay? You can take your cock out now.” Frantz immediately frowned apologetically and pulled his cock out of you, looking slightly frantic. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, (Y/n), I don’t know what came over me just now.” He was avoiding eye contact with you, clearly out of nervousness, and you smiled reassuringly as you helped him put his cock back into his jeans. “Sorry? That was fucking incredible, Frantz, you did that flipping maneuver like it was nothing! If Novak still doesn’t do it right after this, we could totally just use the footage of you doing it instead, it’s hot as fuck.” Frantz looked flattered, and he stood up from the bed, moving to grab one of the towels that had been set near the bed so he could clean his cum from your thighs. “Well I’m glad you had fun. I don’t think I could ever handle that footage getting out to the public, though, so if anyone in this room shares it with TMZ I’m gonna start a lawsuit.” He sent playful warning looks to the crew, and they all made assurances that they wouldn’t leak the footage. Everyone took a five minute break to recover from whatever the hell they had just witnessed, and Frantz sat back down beside you with a slightly bashful look.

“Are you all good? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” You smiled and shook your head. “No way! That was fun, Frantz, it was cool to see you do something like that just for the sake of the film.” He laughed. “What can I say, I’m dedicated to the craft. Listen, I know this is kind of weird for me to ask since most guys usually ask before they fuck a girl, but would you maybe like go get dinner with me after this? Like a date? Just to make up for the fact that I fucked you in front of an entire camera crew and the fact that you’re gonna have to fuck Novak after this.” You smiled. “Of course I would, Frantz, that would be really nice. I don’t know if that other part’s gonna happen, though…Novak just blew his load.” Frantz whipped his head back to look at Novak, and sure enough, Novak was cleaning his dick off with a tissue as the traumatized camera operator he’d been standing with watched with a look of disgust. “Jesus fucking Christ, what an asshole. Didn’t register a single thing I said to him the entire time I was fucking you even though the entire point of me doing that was to demonstrate that position flip, and now he’s blown his fucking load before we can even shoot the rest of your scene with him. Why am I friends with him?” You laughed, rubbing his shoulder sympathetically. “Aw, that’s Novak for you. At least something good came out of it, though! You got to show off your sex skills, and I get to go on a dinner date with the sexiest cameraman in Philadelphia.” He blushed. “I wouldn’t say the sexiest.” You smiled. “I would. So what should we do about Novak? We kinda needed him to shoot your porn film.” Frantz grimaced and sighed. “I’ll get Rake on the phone.”

#joe frantz #joe frantz x reader #joe frantz smut #joe frantz imagine #jackass #jackass x reader #jackass smut #jackass imagine #jackass fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #viva la bam #cky #cky crew #cky crew smut #bam margera #brandon novak #cky x reader

[jerzwriter]

Friends* - Part Four: It's Messy

Book:                   Open Heart Pairing:                Tobias Carrick x F!MC (Casey MacTavish) Rating:                 Mature (18+ Recommended) Category:            AU – Mini-Series Words: 6382 Series:                  Friends * Tobias Carrick and Casey are the best of friends.  Lunch every day at work, tell each other everything, and genuinely love each other friends.  They always knew better than to let that get “messy” by fooling around, until that night…. Segment:            Their arrangement has been going on for several months, and to both of their surprise, it’s working.  They’re really happy.  But what happens to their arrangement, and to them, when that happiness is threatened? Warnings:           This series is about much more than smut, but there is a lot of smut in it.  This part has cursing, explicit sexual content, and unprotected sex, and I don’t recommend the latter outside of committed relationships. A/N:                     This chapter contains mature content, but I don’t think it crosses the line into explicit.  Since everyone has their own definition of what that means, I still recommend this chapter for those who are 18 and up.   A/N 2:                 A couple Spanish words in this chapter, nothing that should floor anyone, but I’d rather everyone know what they mean.  Basta! means “Stop it!” and mi hija means my daughter.

SERIES MASTERLIST Tobias & Casey Masterlist Main Masterlist @choicesaugustchallenge – Day 31 – Friends to Lovers to ? AU

CHARACTERS BELONG TO PIXELBERRY STUDIOS. (Sort of.)

"Coming thorough!" Bryce lifted the tray of drinks over his head and swerved through the packed bar with impressive ease.

"And here we go! Round three!"

He never noticed Casey and Tobias's eyes lock across the table at that phrase. Entering month two of their "arrangement," round three had a very different meaning to them.

"MacTavish," Bryce waved his hand in front of Casey's face, "are you with us?"

"Yes," she startled, "of course I am. 

"I don't know," Tobias winked. "You seemed like you were a thousand miles away. Where was your mind?"

"Uhm," Casey stuttered, narrowing her eyes at Tobias, who was enjoying her suffering entirely too much. "My mind is on my bed. I'm exhausted, so I cannot wait to get naked and slither between the sheets."

Checkmate! She raised her glass with a smirk. She knew exactly where his mind was now. 

"Well," Bryce chuckled. "Before anyone runs off to get naked… you’re all coming to my birthday celebration this Saturday, right?"

"I’ll be there,” Tobias jumped in. “I don’t want your party to suck, and if I’m not there, it’s bound to.”

Bryce tapped his beer bottle against Tobias’s. “I knew I could count on you, T!”

“I’ll be there!” Sienna seconded.

“And you, Case?” Bryce asked.

“I’m still trying to switch shifts with someone. But, worst-case scenario, I show up late in scrubs… looking like shit … on second thought, maybe I’m a no.”

“You’d still be the second hottest person there, next to me, of course!” Bryce gave her a reassuring side hug. “And speaking of hot, guess who RSVP’d today?”

“Well, don’t keep us waiting!” Sienna demanded as Bryce playfully batted his lashes at Tobias.

“Claudia….”

“Ooooh, the hot new nurse in Peds?” Jackie queried.

“One and the same.”

“Of course, she’s going,” Sienna smirked, “She has a huge crush on you.”

“Not me! She’s one of the few women born with a rare gene making her immune to my charms. But this one,” he pointed to Tobias. “She’s got quite a thing for him. So my suggestion, T? Make sure you bring protection.”

Casey bit her lip, her eyes set on her drink.  Their best friend with benefits thing was working, better than either had anticipated, and it was no strings… but the thought of Tobias taking Claudia home made her stomach turn.

“Wow, T,” Jackie replied. “I’d totally hit that. “If you don’t close that deal, I am shooting my shot.”

“As if T can’t close a deal,” Bryce smirked.

“You know, guys. I’m going to head out. I’m the only one on an early tomorrow.”

Tobias jumped from his seat when she did. “I’ll join you. I’m not in early, but I have a 5:00 gym date. Plus, I’ve had enough of you clowns.”

“Hey, don’t act like you don’t love the circus!” Bryce yelled as his friends headed for the door. 

The crisp night air hit them as soon as they stepped outside.  Casey rubbed her arms. The thin sweater she had on was not warm enough.

Without a word, Tobias removed his jacket and placed it around her shoulders.  “Come on, I’ll give you a lift.”

The two walked silently down the street, hands in their pockets with a respectable “friendly” distance between them.

“So, are you going to the party, or were you just shutting Bryce up.”

“It’s Bryce’s party,” she reaffirmed. “I won’t miss it even if I’m late.”

“Good,” he smiled.  “Do you want to come home with me?”

“After the party? Sure.”

“Well, you can come then too,” he chuckled, “but I mean tonight.”

Casey stopped and looked up at him, her eyes twinkling in the moonlight.

“As much as I would love an evening of illicit activity, I’m already getting a max of four hours sleep, and….”

“Case,” he interrupted.  “You know we don’t have to have sex every time we get together, right? My townhome is five minutes away, and your apartment is thirty.  I just thought you could get more sleep.”

“I know we say we don’t have to, but somehow we always end up sweaty and naked in your bed… on your couch… on the floor… on your sink….”

“I get the picture,” he laughed.  “But your welcome to come and sleep in any of those places; well, maybe not the sink, that would be weird.”

“Fine,” she smiled.  “I could use the extra sleep. Thanks, T.”

“Don’t mention it. I’ll even make you breakfast in the morning.”

“Well, that seals the deal,” she laughed as she entered his car. Not on your sink.”

Tobias closed her door and smiled softly as he walked around the car. He had been skeptical about this, but two months later, he had to admit… he was happy.

~~~~ 

Murphy’s law was in complete control on Saturday. At least it was for Casey. Another resident agreed to relieve her two hours early, but he came down with the flu. She rushed to the locker room to change when her shift ended, and an intern tripped and spilled grape juice all over her. There was no time to go home, so she threw her scrubs back on and headed to Donahue’s. 

Her eyes scanned the room for the birthday boy, and she found him holding court in the back. With him entertained, she decided to get a drink at the bar first. A little liquid courage would make her feel better about looking so scruffy while her friends were at their best. She saw Tobias sitting alone at the end of the bar and smiled. This was perfect. He always made her feel beautiful no matter what. Perhaps Murphy stayed behind at the hospital after all. But with just a few more steps, the smile slipped from her face

Claudia was a vision at work daily: bare-faced, hair pinned up, and in sensible shoes. So, of course, she looked smoking hot at the party. Her wavy, chestnut brown hair cascaded down the center of her bare back.  The plunging neckline of her shimmering, gold dress that hugged her every curve fell just to her upper thigh. Her long, shapely legs were irresistible in a matching pair of strappy heels. Her laugh was infectious, and her smile could light a room. No wonder Tobias was grinning from ear to ear as he hung on her every word.  Casey looked down and grasped her own dingy scrubs, and her blood went cold.

“Well,” she whispered with a sad chuckle. “I guess he’s found my replacement.” 

There was no way she could stay now. Bryce would understand, she told herself as she rushed to the door when she heard.

“CASEY!!!!” A tipsy Sienna yelled, hugging her from behind.  “I’m SO glad you’re here!”

“Yeah, but… I’m gonna go. It’s been a long day, and… look at me, Si.”

“You’re gorgeous!” Her fellow dolphin ensured. “And you’re staying.”

“I’ll say happy birthday, grab a beer and hide in a corner for a respectable period of time. But, Si. I need to get out of here, OK?”

Sienna heard the sadness in her friend’s voice and saw how glassy her eyes were, even though she had yet to have a drink.

“Is everything OK?”

“Yeah,” she said, looking over her shoulder at the bar.  She saw Tobias standing up, and she needed to get away.  “I… I’m going to go see Bryce.”

Casey sat in the furthest back corner of the bar as her friends partied nearby.  Sitting low to remain undetected, she silently nursed her beer.  She looked up every so often, lying to herself that she was not looking for Tobias. He was always all over the dance floor, but he was nowhere to be seen tonight.

He’s probably mesmerized by her, she thought. He has a pulse, after all.  And she’s crazy about him.. why wouldn’t she be?  They probably already left…they’re probably in…  She held her breath, and tears sprung to her eyes as she envisioned Claudia tangled in the sheets with Tobias … claiming the spot she had shared with him too many times to count now. She imagined him running his fingers slowly along every curve of her body as her smoky brown eyes shut tight in ecstasy. 

Finishing her beer in one gulp, she cursed herself. How the hell did she think this was going to be easy? How did she think it wouldn’t hurt? She needed to get out of there, and the back door was her best escape. She’d avoid her friends begging her to stay. There was no chance of her seeing Tobias and Claudia nuzzled up in a corner or, worse, realizing they left together. She could just get out of there, go home and sit on her couch with a pint of ice cream, waiting for the inevitable text from Tobias.  Benefits terminated.  It was their plan all along… so why was her heart aching?

“Excuse me,” she pushed through the crowd, feeling relief wash over her with the door just a few feet away. Escape was in sight when she felt a tug at her wrist.

“Hey, where are you running off to? I’ve been looking for you all night! Don’t you have your phone on?”

Casey was dazed.

“Oh, uh… I was in the back.  It’s been a long day and, no… no, I didn’t have my phone.  I’m just going home….”

“Already? Case, what’s wrong? You’re not OK.”

“I’m good,” she forced a smile, “I’m just… look at me… I’m in my dirty scrubs.  I look like shit, and I just want a shower and food and….”

“Then let’s go.”

“What?”

“Come over.  I’ll make you dinner, and you can rest.  And, just for the record, dirty scrubs and all, you’re still a knockout.”

“You… you want to go home? With… me?”

Tobias looked around to ensure no one was within earshot, then leaned in.  “We’ve kind of done that before,” he laughed. “And we said we would tonight.  But if you changed your mind….”

“No! No!” She grabbed his hand with no concern for who saw. “Please, take me home..”

~~~~~  

Several hours later, it was Casey tangled in his bedsheets… panting gently as his body pressed into hers. He knew her body so well now; he knew every spot that would make her holler and that look in his eyes when he did….

“Ahhhh,” she gasped, digging her nails in his back.

“You like that?” he whispered with a sly smile that made it perfectly clear he already knew the answer.

Biting her lip, she nodded, and the proud grin on his face grew.

“Then you’ll love this,” he hissed, raising her hips and rolling in deeper. Feeling her clench around him, his teeth tugged at her ear. “That’s it, princess, let go. I’m waiting for you.”

Her feeble cries filled the air, and she clung to him as his body slammed into hers. The two of them groaning with delight as they reached their peak together.

“You’re fucking unbelievable,” he gasped atop her. “You know that, right?”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she giggled as he plopped beside her.

“You’re staying?” he asked almost desperately.

“Yes,” she nuzzled closer to him. “I am.”

“Good,” he kissed the top of her head.

Neither intended to fall asleep immediately, but their bodies had other plans. Pleasantly exhausted, they drifted off in each other's arms, the smiles on their faces telling a story neither was able to speak.

~~~~~ 

The bright light hit her eyes, causing Casey to stir. With a smile, she rolled over to wrap her arm around Tobias, only to find the bed empty. Throwing on one of his t-shirts, she bounced down the stairs.

“Damn, I wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed,” he smiled, standing over the stove.

Casey walked behind him and threw her arms around his waist. “That’s OK. Breakfast here at the table with you is just fine.”

It was so comfortable. Her head nestled into his shoulder, the warmth of his bare back against her chest. She closed her eyes and savored it, then quickly stepped away. Sex was easy, and being friends was easy. But she still had trouble navigating these intimate moments. Where would she be crossing a line? Sensing her tension and eager for the comfort of her touch, Tobias reached back and pulled her against him again. She smiled, happily remaining there until breakfast was made. 

“Mmmm,” she moaned, pulling the fork from her mouth.

Tobias looked on with a satisfied smirk. He loved those sounds coming from her, especially when he knew he was the cause, no matter how he did it.

“You make a killer French toast.”

“Anything to make you happy. So, do you have plans today?”

“Nothing definitive,” she said, sipping her tea. 

“Spend the day with me? We can bum around together, watch TV, or play video games. And later, I’m meeting an old buddy from Kenmore. We’re going out on his boat, and I’m sure he’d be fine if you joined us.”

“You… you want me to?”

“I’m asking,” he chuckled.

“Then I’d love to.”

~~~~~ 

After opening the door, he extended his hand to help her out of the car. A delicate blush on her cheeks despite her best attempts to prevent it. With two movies and an hour's worth of Mario Kart, which they both insisted they won, under their belts, they walked down the pier together. Standing close, each longed to take the other’s hand, but neither was willing to make that move.

“So whose boat is this?” Casey asked.

“My friend Dave's. He’s a surgeon at Kenmore.”

“You hang out with surgeons?” She asked in mock horror.

“Only cool ones with boats, well, and Lahela,” he laughed. He nodded toward a large yacht, “We’ve arrived.”

“Damn!” She exclaimed. “Surgeons at Kenmore do well for themselves. Now I get it. Completely.”

“I don’t just like him for his boat,” Tobias laughed. “He’s a good guy. You’ll love him.”

When they reached the top of the stairs, a handsome, middle-aged man with tan skin and dark wavy hair greeted them.

“Well, as I live and breathe!” he declared, boisterously grasping Tobias’s hand. “I never thought you’d show.”

“Hey, don’t blame me if people don’t like hanging out with you in general,” Tobias laughed. “But how many times have I let you down?”

“More than you’d want me to admit in front of this beautiful lady! Now, who has the misfortune of your company?” he laughed.

“This is my… my… this is my Casey. Casey, this is David.”

“Your Casey?” David shook his head, “Still refusing to label things, are we?”  He turned to Casey with a huge grin and offered his hand. “It’s lovely to meet Tobias’s girlfriend.”

“Oh, it’s lovely to meet you too, but I’m not his….”

“What can I get you two to drink? Come on,” he motioned for them to follow. “We’re about to set sail.”

Casey looked up at Tobias as they trailed several feet behind their host. “I tried to tell him that I’m not….”

Tobias tapped her nose with his index finger, wearing a smile that extended all the way up to his eyes. “Don’t pay it any mind.”

It was a perfect afternoon. David and his wife, Nilda, were welcoming and delightful. Their adorable daughter, Zara, took an immediate liking to Casey, which only intensified after Casey agreed that they absolutely should change the music to Taylor Swift. Tobias was transfixed as he watched the two new besties dancing on the other side of the deck when David snuck up beside him. Flicking his friend's arm to break the spell.  

“She is lovely, man,” David approved. “Inside and out. I’m impressed.”

“Well, you should be! She is impressive. But she’s not my girlfriend.”

“Really?” his disappointed friend said with raised brows. “You’d never know it by how you interact.”

“Well, she’s been my best friend for years now, but that’s it.”

“Mmm,” David said, rocking on the balls of his feet. “Nilda was my best friend once, and she still is, but now, she’s so much more.”

Tobias turned to his friend, mildly annoyed. “Really, David? We’ve known each other for how long?”

“Ahhh! You!” He waved dismissively. “Mr. I’ll never commit. That’s all well and good, but sometimes you meet the right person, and when you do, you have to reevaluate. How would you feel if you knew she would no longer be in your life.”

Tobias was visibly stricken at the thought, and the corners of David's lips turned up when he saw that he got his friend.

“You wouldn’t like that, would you.”

“Well, as my best friend, she probably will remain in my life forever. If I take it beyond that….”

“Basta! Look me in the eye and tell me you haven’t already taken it beyond that.”

Now it was Tobias rolling on the balls of his feet, refusing to turn toward his friend.

“As I was saying,” David simpered.

“David!” Nilsa called from the deck below, “Can you come help me with the food?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll help….” Tobias started, but David stopped him with a touch of the arm. “No. You go enjoy some time on the deck with Casey.”

“Zara!” He yelled, turning away, “Come help Mama and Papa with dinner.”

The little girl dropped Casey’s hands and stomped her foot. “Do I have to! I want to stay with Casey!”

“Casey will be here when you get back, mi hija. Let’s go.”

Zara looked up at Casey with big, pleading doe eyes.

“He’s right,” Casey smiled. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“OK,” the little girl grinned, reassured enough to run off with her dad.

Tobias’s face was alight as he walked toward Casey, both turning toward the rail to take in the views.

“You’ve made quite an impression,” he observed.

“With Zara? She’s the one who made a good impression. She’s adorable.”

“Not only with Zara, David’s quite taken with you too.”

“Is he?” she replied bashfully.

“He is. It’s easy to see why.”

Tobias turned toward her, and Casey’s heart raced as she felt his eyes on her. The sunset was breathtaking, bathing them in shades of pink and amber. He found it hard to breathe as he watched the breeze gently tousle her long, blonde hair. He had been overwhelmed by her beauty so many times, but never more than in that moment.

“The sunset is gorgeous,” she spoke, terrified of the electricity she felt drawing them together.

“It sure is, but the view is even better.”

“It’s been a lovely day,” she blushed. “I’m really glad you asked me along.”

“I am too,” he whispered as his fingers caressed her chin, turning it toward him. 

Their eyes met and lingered on each other. His drifted down to her lips, then back again. Everything was perfect, and he knew he would have himself if he allowed this moment to pass. Cupping her cheeks in his hands, he gently drew her near. The kiss was soft, slow, and tender, each vividly aware of their pounding hearts. They broke apart for just a moment. He swallowed deeply, delighted to see the beautiful smile lighting up her face. Casey reached up to kiss him again; this time, it was passionate, ravenous, and demanding so much more. His arms encircled her waist, pulling her close against his body as her hands trailed up and down his back.

If not for Zara calling out Casey’s name as she ran up the stairs, they were sure they would never have parted. Breathlessly pulling away, Tobias noticed the impish look on David's face when he bellowed, “Dinner is served.”

“Come on,” he smiled at Casey. Entwining his fingers with hers, he led her down the stairs.

~~~~~ 

Whatever that moment was, they weren’t going to figure it out tonight. The evening continued as it had started, with good conversation, lots of laughs, and Zara never leaving Casey’s side. When it was time to go, David and Nilda fussed over Casey almost as much as their daughter did, and David insisted that they would do this again soon. Tobias beamed at Casey as they began walking to his car, but once again, neither took the chance of holding each other's hand.

The car ride to her apartment was quiet for these two. They both thought it best to let the sounds of Smokey Robinson and Marvin Gaye do the talking. Occasionally, one or the other would interrupt the Motown legends to affirm what a great time they had today. Casey was gazing out the window when they pulled up in front of her building. She was hoping he'd ask her to come over, even though she insisted she had to go home tonight earlier in the day.

“Well, this is it,” he stated.

“Yeah, it’s my stop,” she giggled nervously. 

“I had such a nice time,” they said in unison, laughing at the end.

“Good night, Casey,” whispered.

“Good night, Tobias.”

“Wait,” he blurted as soon as her hand touched the door. Reaching over the console, he gave her a final, tender kiss goodbye.

“Good night,” he whispered.

His eyes were fixed on her until she was no longer in sight. Then he rushed to pick up his phone.

“Yo!” Bryce answered.

“Hey, where are you?”

“Donahue’s. Why?”

“I’m coming to get you. I need to talk.”

Sienna looked up from the couch when Casey entered the apartment. 

“Hey!” Sienna greeted. “Where have you been all day?”

“Si, I need to talk.”

~~~~~ 

“So I’ve been seeing someone….” Casey spat out. “Well, not exactly seeing….”

“It’s more of a friend with benefits thing,” Tobias clarified.

“Friend with benefits?” Bryce queried. “You don’t usually do the friends part.”

“I know!”

“I knew it!” Sienna squealed.

“You did?” Casey asked in horror.

“Well, not any details. But I knew something was going on with someone.”

“I kind of suspected. I’m not going to lie.”

“You did?” Tobias gasped.

“Yeah, I mean, you’ve turned down at least two of the hottest chicks in the hospital in the last couple of months, and, let's face it, buddy, that’s not you.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be serious,” Casey explained. “We’re just friends… who have sex. You know, sometimes….”

“But sometimes became A LOT of times,” Tobias sighed. “A lot, a lot because….”

“Jesus Christ, is it GOOD!” Casey enthused.

“How good?”

“Fucking PHENOMENAL. I swear, I can’t get enough of her.”

“And this is bad?”

“I didn’t say it was bad… it’s just I’m confused. Because today, we were out, and we were on this boat….”

“… and then we kissed. And, God! Was it a kiss.”

“It wasn’t a we’re about to have sex kiss, and it wasn’t a we just had sex kiss.”

“Well, what kind of kiss was it?” Sienna asked.

“It was an I never want to stop this. I never want to let you go, sort of kiss. Bryce, bro, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“But do you like him?” Sienna asked, “I mean outside of the amazing sex part.”

“The amazing sex part is just icing, Si. I adore him.”

“She’s just, she’s just one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met. Even if sex never entered the equation, I’d want to be with her all the time.”

“I’m failing to see the problem,” Sienna shrugged.

“You know what it is, bro,” Bryce grinned. “You’re falling for her. Correction, you’ve fallen for her.”

“And that’s the problem.”

“Why is it a problem?” Sienna asked.

“Because he’s not the kind of guy who wants to settle down. This is just… an arrangement, and I doubt he feels the same way about me.”

“Well, that kiss says otherwise.”

“Tobias! What’s so awful? Do you think you’re superhuman or something? You met someone incredible enough to make you change your mind. And from where I’m standing, that’s not bad.”

“Do I know them?” Bryce and Sienna questioned.

“No!” Tobias and Casey lied.

“I think you should talk to him.”

“I think you should talk to her.”

“But, God, Si. What if he doesn’t feel the same way? I don’t want to lose him.”

“But it’s not like things are bad now, as they are. We have a good thing.”

“Then why did you pull me out of Donahue’s in a cold sweat?”

“If you’re as close as you say, you won’t lose him. But, you need to know.”

“You’re right,” Tobias replied. “I’m going to have to talk to her….”

“And I will,” Casey insisted… “Soon.”

~~~~~ 

Casey was grateful to have an early shift the next day. This way, she had at least a few hours before seeing Tobias. She was still thinking of the best way to broach this, or maybe he’d broach it, and she was worrying for nothing. But she was worried, and her jittering leg and drumming fingers made that perfectly clear when she took a seat in the nurses' station.

“Dr. MacTavish,” a small voice called out.

“Yes,” she turned to see Claudia, still hot as hell in her green scrubs, holding an arrangement of roses.

“These were just delivered for you.”

“For me?”

Claudia looked at the card and mocked crying. “Yes, for you. Sadly the card confirms it’s not for me.”

“Oh, thank you,” she smiled, taking the flowers from Claudia’s hands.                

Casey was glowing, the blush on her cheeks matching the pale pink of roses that had just been delivered. She tried to conceal her feelings as her fingers traced the delicate petals, but her mind kept returning to yesterday and… that kiss. They had to be from him. This was becoming more. She was breaking all the rules, and she was starting to ask why they ever put them in place to begin with.

“Casey?” Sienna’s words pulled her from her reverie. “What does the card say? Who are they from?”

“Oh, uh,” she stammered, wondering if this would be the big reveal. But the card wasn’t signed. “It doesn’t say. It just says I hope the day is as beautiful as you.”

“Ooohh! A secret admirer,” Sienna winked.

Casey stood there with a stupid grin on her face. Convinced she was giving away far more than she wished to.

“Good morning, ladies!”

Casey jumped when she heard Tobias approach, as chipper as he ever was in the morning.

“What’s going on,” he laughed. “You’re not usually so easy to startle.”

“She’s trying to figure out who her secret admirer is,” Sienna beamed.

“Oh?” he asked with a raised brow. “Are you?”

“Yes,” Casey replied, biting her lip. Her eyes eagerly assessed him for any sign that he was the sender. “I need to figure out who sent these to me.”

Tobias’s face was set in stone when he took the card from her hand; looking it over for several seconds, he handed it back. 

“Yeah,” he replied coldly. “I suppose you’ll need to do that.”

Casey’s face fell when he turned on his heel and walked into his office. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t hear Sienna rattling off potential suspects' names. She finally tugged at her friend's lab coat and whispered, “Do you think it was him?”

“Who? Tobias?” Casey jumped.

“No! Not Tobias, silly!” Sienna leaned in to whisper, “The one you told me about last night. Do you think it could be him?”

“No,” Casey stated sadly. “I’m pretty sure I can rule him out.”

~~~~~ 

Casey was in the diagnostic team’s office when the workday had almost reached its end. Her flower arrangement was not far from her mess of paperwork. She looked at it half-heartedly, mindlessly smacking a bud with her pen. She had only run into Tobias twice today; both times were more awkward than any encounter they had ever shared. She was sure she had misread what happened yesterday and was angry for allowing herself to believe they may have been something more. The optimism and hope that had filled her were replaced by a sense of dread.

She text Tobias. Whatever the outcome, they needed to talk. He told her he’d be up as soon as he wrapped up with a patient, and Casey was practicing what she would say to him as she anxiously waited.   

“Dr. MacTavish,” a voice called out.

“Claudia, no more flowers, please,” Casey joked.

“No,” Claudia laughed, “but maybe I can do one better. A gentleman is asking for you; I think he may be the sender.”

Casey’s brow furrowed. “Really? Well, if nothing else, I’d like to solve that riddle. Lead me to him.”

She stepped into the hall, nearly crashing into an imposingly tall man. While he looked familiar, she couldn’t place him. Her eyes squinted as she attempted as she took him in.

“Well,” he laughed nervously, “I guess I didn’t make quite the same impression on you as you did on me.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, “It’s just, I see so many people here and…. wait,” she said, tapping her temple. “Fenway! The Red Sox game!”

“Phew! Now I feel better,” he grinned, “at least it didn’t take you too long to remember.”

“Well, what are you doing here?”

“I’m working! I’m with the governor’s office,” he said, handing her his business card. “I was meeting with the administration about a potential grant for….”

“… for pediatric cancer research, yes,” Casey smiled. “I’m involved in that project. I’m on the committee.”

“Really? Well, that’s great to know because it means we’ll see each other at the meetings next week.”  

“What a small world!” she marveled. “But, it still doesn’t explain how you knew you could find me here.”

“Well,” he blushed, “I hope this doesn’t come across as scary stalker-ish because I promise you, I’m not. But I lost your phone number after the game, and I’ve lived with regret every day since. I remember you and your friend, the guy you were with….”

“Tobias.”

“Yes! Tobias! I remembered you mentioning you worked at Edenbrook.  So when I found out I was coming here, I let the internet do its thing, and….”

“So you stalked me,” Casey laughed.

“I like to call it being creative when you know the end goal is worthwhile. The flowers, well, they were just an extra touch because my mother raised me to be a gentleman.”

“The flowers,” Casey said, her eyes bulging. “The flowers, they’re… they’re from you?”

“Yes.”

“Huh. Well, then that’s one mystery solved.”

~~~~~ 

Ten minutes later, Casey was pacing the floor in Tobias’s office, waiting for him to arrive. 

“Hey,” he blustered, closing the door behind him. “So… he tracked you down, huh?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Josh? Was that his name? From the Red Sox game?”

“Oh! Jake! Yeah, well, it’s not as creepy as it sounds. He works for the governor’s office and will be here consulting on the pediatric oncology grant.”

“You’re on the project, right?”

“Yes.”

“Huh.”

“Huh, what?” Casey asked. 

“Oh, nothing. It’s just that’s some coincidence. Maybe it’s even fate.”

“Coincidence?” She asked quizzically. “Yes. Fate? Uhm, I don’t think so.”

“He sent you the flowers, right?”

“He did,” she replied softly. “I was sort of hoping they were from someone else.” 

“I was in the hallway. I heard him ask you out.”

Casey’s head tilted.

“You did? Well, then you also heard me turn him down.”

“Why? He seems like a nice guy. He’s handsome enough, and there was a time when you would have seen him as quite a catch.”

“Uh, well, I’m not currently fishing. And I’m not interested in Jake. Not going out with him, nor talking about him. I asked you here because….”

“Maybe you should be,” he interrupted as the blood drained from her face.

“What?!”

“Maybe you should be. I got to talk with him twice now, and he seems cool; he's obviously into you.”

“Tobias,” she gasped, “I’m not looking for….”

“He’s the type of guy who will send you flowers at work just to make you smile. The kind who will take you places and show you off. The kind of guy who can give you what you always wished for. And you deserve that, Casey. You really do.”

“What… what are you saying? You want me to be interested in Jake?”

“I want you to have the life you always wanted. What we have... our arrangement... we both knew it was always meant to be temporary.”

“We said until… oh God... you’ve met someone else! Haven’t you? You've met someone else and you can’t even tell me, so you’re pinning this on me.”

“I haven’t met anyone, Casey. That whole until we met someone else clause, that was more for you than me. You see, for me… what we have right now is perfect. I’ve got this amazing woman whom I adore, and she’s there for me whenever I want,” he took her hand, caressing it softly in his. “Selfishly, I could keep this going for God knows how long. Because what we have… right now… it’s all I ever wanted. But it’s not all that you ever wanted.”

“Tobias,” she stammered. “I don’t want Jake… I want…. I…. I just thought… yesterday. I wanted to talk about our….”

Pulling her hand away, she turned her back to him. She was about to cry, and she was willing to do anything to prevent him from seeing it.

“Casey, I’m so sorry. I care for you more than you know, and that’s why I have to let you go. Our … thing… it’s run its course… it’s not going to become any more than it is, and you deserve more.”

“But... but… I want you. I know we said it was just sex and nothing more, but I love being with you, and I don’t want… I don’t want it to be over.”

“Can you say you’d be happy? If we leave things exactly as they are right now. Would you be happy?”

“I’m not unhappy.”

“But in a year, or two, or ten down the line. Do you want me to introduce you to someone and not even know what to call you?”

“My Casey kind of worked,” she laughed through a tear. “I don’t hate being your Casey.”

“And you’ll still be my Casey,” he sighed, fighting not to show his own sadness. “But you’ll be my friend Casey, my very, very special friend.”

“So,” she chuckled through tears, “this is my termination of benefits notice.”

“Casey,” he said, approaching her as she backed away, “It’s not that… you deserve to be with someone who will give you everything.”

“You’re right,” she said, wiping her tears and trying to regain her composure. “It’s better this way. I just wish I knew that yesterday was our last…” her lip began to quiver as she started for the door. “I have to go.”

“Casey, wait.”

“No! You’re right. This was temporary… fun… wasn’t supposed to mean anything. You’re not at fault, Tobias. I made the damn rules. It was just supposed to be fun, and I guess it was… right?” 

He turned to her, a single tear running down his cheek.

“It was so much more than just fun.”

“But it wasn’t enough… the arrangement wasn’t enough for me, and apparently, I’m not enough for you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry I ever even….”

“I’m not,” he insisted, taking her hand. “I am never going to regret this.”

“Well, I do. I… I have to go.”

Casey plowed down the hall, pushing the button furiously in hopes it would hasten the elevator’s arrival. Grateful for an empty car, she began to slowly fall apart as soon as the doors were shut.

“Shit!” she muttered when it stopped on another floor. Wiping her face, she tried to keep her composure.  The second the door opened, she bolted toward the exit.

“Excuse me… doctor?” someone called after her.

“Yes?” she turned around.

“You dropped this. It looks official. I thought you might need it.”

“Oh,” she said, retrieving Jake’s card from the young woman’s hand. “Thank you.”

She slipped the card into her pocket and stepped outside. Twenty-four hours ago, she kissed Tobias under a perfect sky and dared to dream. Now, as she made her way home, she was grateful for the falling rain that drenched her, for it also helped hide her tears. We never know what the next day has planned.  Life can change in an instant.

~~~~~ 

It took everything he had not to run after her. Never mind the feelings he was denying, she was still his best friend, and he had loved her before they ever crossed the line into anything more. When Casey was in pain, he comforted her; that’s how it’s always been. Except for this time, it wasn’t some random jerk who broke her heart.  That honor belonged to none other than him.

He thought of David’s words:

“…sometimes you meet the right person, and when you do, you have to reevaluate. How would you feel if you knew she would no longer be in your life?”

He prayed to God that he wouldn’t find out because a life without Casey in it felt like more than he could bear. Tossing a folder across the room in frustration, he watched as its contents spilled to the floor.

She had made the rules for their “arrangement,” but he made the rules for his life. An hour ago, he was confident that he was making the right choice.  But right now, he wasn’t confident about anything. 

“Hey, Dr. Carrick,” a voice interrupted. “Is Dr. MacTavish still here?”

“No, Claudia. She’s left for the day. Can I help you with something?”

“No, thank you. I just received the labs she was asking for. But they’re not urgent. I’ll make sure she gets them tomorrow.”

“Very well,” he muttered as he stared out the window.

Claudia was standing at the door when she paused to work up her courage. 

“Dr. Carrick… are you almost done for the day?”

“I’m done in fifteen minutes. Why?”

“I’m going to head down to Donahue’s for a quick drink before I go home. I’d love company if you want to join me.”

“Thanks, Claudia. But it’s been a long day, and I don’t think it would be a good idea.”

“Oh, OK,” she smiled. “Maybe a rain check?”

“We’ll see,” he muttered. “We’ll see.”

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Tobias Only: @icecoffee90 @monstercyclops

#open heart fanfic #tobias carrick #tobias carrick x mc #choices fanfic #playchoices fanfic #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #choices monthly challenge #open heart fanfiction

[squeakygeeky]

Aaaand it’s Wednesday! Someone on reddit was hosting actual Unforgotten Night bingo and I should have participated because were 3 sec in and there’s already running water. He is actually seen turning it off though. A miracle.

Anyway, it’s time for the fancy pool house vacation with everyone. It’s pretty par for the course that Kim immediately ditches Kamol to go swim with Baiboon (and all the bodyguards). At least he wanted to hold hands with Kamol on the plane. But again, where is the BDSM in the trashy BDSM show? I need something to mock for the internet! Kamol just watches while drinking tea. Baiboon almost immediately manages to hurt himself while getting out of the pool because of course he does.

At least this time he has Khom tending to him as is right and proper.

Baiboon was trusted to carry two (2) drinks several feet across a patio?? What show am I watching?

Not Kim wanting to sleep with Baiboon! Except the only way I imagine this scenario going is, “Baiboon, let’s gossip about boys! Do you need a glass of warm milk? Let me tuck you in, here is your teddy bear.”

Wait, Khom and Baiboon are actually sleeping together? Yes, but not like that either. They appear to just be sharing a room, but who knows. Unlike:

What? I mean, I knew to expect this because I am in no way avoiding UN spoilers (if the show itself can’t spoil my enjoyment, how can anything else?), but still. It is completely out of nowhere that they other random bodyguards start hooking up in the shower. All three (3) of them.

Also Baiboon’s aunt (the housekeeper) has been here the whole time and is apparently just happy to have been asked along for this trip despite the fact that she’d actually working, unlike anyone else I could name (not that I can name the 3 horny bodyguards).

Hey hey hey I guess we finally are getting BDSM in the BDSM show. This seems unwise from the perspective of slipperiness, structural integrity of the plumbing, and the drinking contest (with wine?) they just had. But what would UN be without running water?

Safe and sane left the building a while ago.

Anyway, that kind of action over, we see some actual action in the form of Cherry and her earrings being kidnapped, and a gunfight at the vacation house (in the pool for some reason) that Kim totally sleeps through. Kamol watches him sleep while taking nutritional supplements, as one does.

Kim finally gets to cook for his man, and I’m hungry despite having eaten lunch while watching this, except then there’s a fly in the shot because of course there is. Like a big one and then also a little gnat thing that keeps trying to fly into Kamol’s eye. Also Baiboon accidentally sees Khom naked, thus spotting his back injury, which is an excuse to get all up in his business. And who could blame him, Khom is the best looking in this show.

Time to go home. Somehow Kamol’s ex is in their bed. I guess that’s what happens when you bring all your bodyguards on vacation and don’t have a halfway decent home security system that relies on something other than live tigers.

Looking forward to next week, whose preview promises the drama but whose actuality will probably once again bring a slightly random series of events that I will nonetheless be heavily invested in.

#unforgotten night #trashblogging #thai bl

[angelasscribbles]

One Shot Snippets

All of these are Bad Romance One Shots. All are in progress. None have any kind of timeline on when they might be finished. Sorry about that. I just wanted to share a little bit of them. Perhaps that will get the wheels turning in my head again.

Untitled: This fits into the Bad Romance timeline when Liam returns to his quarters with Max after the events in Chapter 24 (Party of Five) and concurrent with Chapter 26 (An Audacious proposal)

Max moved around the sitting room as Liam sat slumped in his favorite chair. He wasn’t pouting exactly, but he wasn’t not pouting either.

Riley was with Drake and probably would be all night. He’d told her to go. Not that she’d ever needed his permission for a goddamned thing. She’d always done whatever the hell she wanted and there wasn’t much he could do about it, never had been.

He was trying to be understanding and accommodating. It was true that Drake needed her tonight more than he did. Drake certainly needed to be with someone that he loved, someone that could comfort and soothe him. It was just dumb stupid luck that described the same person for both of them. Considering what Drake had done for her, and what he’d been through because of it, and because of him, his own inaction, he couldn’t even be mad about any of it.

But he was frustrated. Frustrated by his own actions, frustrated by the situation he’d help to create, frustrated by his own inability to keep her attention focused on him and only him. She was wild, untamable, his elusive goddess. Trying to tame her was like trying to corral the fucking wind. It only made him want her more.

“Do you want something to drink? We have your favorite bourbon.” Max’s voice filtered across the room to him.

Liam blinked as he looked up, focusing his eyes on the other man. Max was watching him closely, trying to gauge his mood. Liam sighed. He was being handled and he didn’t like it.

“Yeah, sure.” Liam said as he pulled his tie loose. He watched as Max poured the drinks then crossed the room to him. What were they to each other now? Friends still? Friends with benefits? Lovers?

“What the hell is a throuple?” Liam asked, remembering Riley’s words.

“Same as a couple.” Max answered, handing him the tumbler of bourbon as he took a seat on the couch. “But with three people instead of two.”

“Hm.” Liam regarded the other man thoughtfully.

“What?” Max looked at him in alarm, “Is that too much? We don’t have to put a label on it. If you don’t feel that way, it’s ok-“

A smile quirked at the corners of Liam’s mouth, “Max. Stop talking.”

Untitled: Max and Riley at loose ends in Italy. What will they do to amuse themselves without Liam or Drake to reign in their baser impulses?

“Ohhhh, Max! Look at him! He’s cute, right?”

Max’s gazed followed hers and he shook his head with an amused smirk.

“What?” She asked.

“You have a type, Riley, that’s all.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, that guy looks like Liam.”

“No, he does not!”

“Jet black hair-“

“We’re in Italy, Max. Most of these guys have black-“

“Look at his shoulders, chest and waist. He has Liam’s build.”

“He doesn’t have Liam’s eyes.”

“No.” Max rolled his eyes, “He has Drakes.”

Untitled: Many of you have asked for definitive answer to the question of Charlotte’s paternity and now, so has Rashad.

Rashad lay stretched out on the bed, naked, arms behind his head, a thin sheen of sweat covering his warm terra cotta skin.

“Is she mine, Riley?” He asked, his deep oak eyes tracing the patterns on the ceiling tile.

“What?” She lifted her head from the pillow where she’d been laying on her stomach, catching her breath after their latest reunion.

“Charlotte. Is she mine?” He turned his head to look at her.

Untitled: This is a ‘what if’, a Bad Romance AU where Drake didn’t come back after his stay in Texas, but perhaps moved on to other locations, and people. A direction I almost went with the actual story. I didn't to that way with it, but this scene has been stuck in my head nevertheless.....

“What is it?” Max rounded the corner, out of breath, “I got here as fast as I could!”

Max was brought up short by the sight in the front of him and the sounds issuing from the bedroom. Liam was sitting on the couch in the living room of their private quarters, head clutched in his hands, fingers tearing at his hair. When he lifted his eyes, they were red rimmed, his usually perfectly pressed shirt was rumpled, his tie was hanging loosely around his neck, his hair, generally perfectly coiffed, was in disarray. He looked like he’d been on a three day bender, but he’d been perfectly fine that morning.

As bad as the sight of distressed Liam was, the sounds issuing from the bedroom were worse. Shrill wailing, a sound like a wounded, and dying, animal pierced the air. Max’s heart leapt in panic, “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Liam reached onto the coffee table in front of him and lifted a rectangular piece of paper, thrusting it into the other man’s hands. Max glanced down at the gold foil embossed cream colored cardstock. His eyes scanned down it an attempt to decipher how it was connected to the heart rending sounds Riley was making from the other room.

It was a save the date card. For a wedding. As he read the curling, gold script, his heart sank to the bottom of his feet, “Oh no.”

“Please save the date.” The card read, “For the wedding celebration of Kiara Theron and Drake Walker.” There was a date and a location with the promise of a formal invitation to follow.

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#angelasscribbles #one shots #current wip #wip stuff #work in progress #trr #choices #the royal romance #the royal romance fanfic #choices stories you play #play choices #riley brooks #liam rys #drake walker #maxwell beaumont #rashad faheem

[waheelawhisperer]

I have laid eyes upon Inordinately Bazoomified Doujin Yang. I will probably do so again soonish. And I'm still five miles past Done with that stupid-ass 90s comic-vintage rendition trick where you have acres of cleavage right up to the arbitrary nipple line on whomever's outfit, but apparently the character's either taping 'em down or a mannequin. Or possibly some type of overdesigned Atlesian sexbot assassin. But yes, the Ruby hips are even dumber in this context.

I'm actually not as heated by the bimbofied Yang shit as I am when people do it for Ruby despite my ferocious love for Yang because Yang's at least been presented as "the sexy one"/the fanservice character (seriously, it started in the Yellow Trailer. The first part of her we see is her legs, then her legs, then her legs, then her ass, then her hips swinging as she does her sexy walk as she enters the club, and then a couple shots that emphasize her rack) throughout the series. When the audience sees Yang, we're supposed to think "Damn, That's a Total Hottie", we're supposed to start making cartoon heart eyes irl, our hearts are supposed to start going ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump, we're supposed to start drooling like Scooby Doo when he sees a Scooby Snack, and it's a logical conclusion that when a character like that exists, people will draw them naked.

Porn of Ruby specifically bugs the hell out of me because at least the other 3 are a) legal by the standards of both Remnant and Texas (where I live and where Rooster Teeth is based) b) are 18 outright by the time of Volume 3 at the latest and c) are designed in ways intended to be sexy: Weiss has a titty window on at least 2 outfits, Blake wears tight pants and shows off her midriff in multiple outfits, and Yang always dresses to display cleavage and has that dumb thigh window as part of her Atlas outfit (I truly do not like the Atlas outfits at all, I really don't). All three of them are designed to be attractive/beautiful/sexy to varying degrees of each and receive romantic attention in-universe, whereas Ruby seems designed to be more innocent and cute in this specific sense (like I don't get the vibe that the audience is supposed to be attracted to Ruby the way they are for the other three), so it's honestly kinda strange that the porn artists fixate on her so heavily.

Idk, maybe I'm the weird one for seeing a character who was obviously designed to be attractive to men and becoming attracted to her instead of her underage sister

I have mixed feelings on the cleavage thing because on the one hand seeing outfits like that always makes me wonder how they stay on, but on the other hand I am a firm proponent of showing off lots of boobage and whatever else its faults, this strat works well for that specifically.

On that note, I still don't know how Blake goes to the bathroom in her Atlas outfit.

#rwby #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #analysis

[awrldalone]

12th July 2022, 11.04pm

It is hard to let myself be loved. 

Objectively, I spent a good week. I stayed at my boyfriend’s place, a one bedroom apartment he’s moving out of soon, and I met his parents, and some of his friends. We held hands in public, we kissed, we went on dates. 

But I find it hard to let myself be loved. I do not mean it physically, I do not mean that it is hard to let him touch me, to whimper under his weight, to feel his lips on mine on my skin on my hands on my fingers. What I mean is, it is tough to accept I am not hated. Nobody is, to be frank, but sometimes generalizing things too much, stating the absolute, makes it easier to find the exception.

“Everyone is loved” are three words that are instantly, instinctively followed by “except me”. “Everyone is pretty”, “everyone is enough”. They simply trigger a reaction similar to moving your hand too close to fire. Everyone but me.

So when he holds me tight, when I lay on his chest, when he shows me his secret places in his hometown – my first instinct is to doubt. 

It is not that I have trust issues. I am not scared of being cheated on. I am not scared of being left alone. (I am, in reality, but not in that sense.) It just feels like everything could crumble. Am I not giving enough love? Do I deserve to receive the love he hands me, like a gift?

He has tole me he loves me directly once. I was lying next to him in the dark, the fan was on and the air was running over our naked bodies, cooling us down. His breath was all that I heard, slightly panting, catching up oxygen. He moved towards me and he said: “I think I love you.” and my heart stopped. i wanted to rip it out of my chest to give it to him. I said: “I think I do too.” We think a lot.

We visited la Fondation Vasarely. The whole museum was practically empty. The art was impressive. Color laid out with precision on the canvas, smooth and brushstrokes-less. To think that such paintings were created before computers could help is humbling, jaw dropping. 

One night we went to a party. It was to make me meet his friends, except none of them showed up. A few had covid, another few were close contacts of positive people. Part of me screamed not to go. The rise in cases could have been the best excuse. “Can we not go? I would not want to be positive before my flight.” Was on the tip of my tongue. I bit it. We went to the bus stop and I met the only girl he liked who was going to the party. All the others who were invited, they both either disliked or did not know.

Somehow, my ability to speak French disappeared. 

When I was a child, just going to elementary school, I was shy. It took me years to unlearn not letting myself talk. It felt like I regressed to that age, finding it hard to string together sentences. I looked at him for confirmation that what I said made sense and he nodded every time, even when I made mistakes. 

To be honest, at times I did not talk not because of lack of language, but rather because of lack of words. How can i insert myself in a conversation about someone I do not know? 

We got to the birthday boy’s villa, the only three who came by bus, and a few people were already there. We gave him his present, which I had wrapped in a green ribbon, and we sat with the other guests, sipping tequila-flavored beer (apparently it costs a lot, and people love it there – it was awful).

I was surprised by how much they talked shit about people. Dirty mouths. Again, I had nothing to say, nothing to become a part of the conversation, until the sun set and the light slowly started fading into black. 

I like drunk people. They’re more sociable, more easily impressed. I talked with some, about nothing and everything. I got drunk, but not so much that I would forget the night. I had a shot of tequila, and a girl was surprised by how I cut the lemon. I tried some bad French liquors, a weird iteration of vodka redbull sans-redbull, and at one point a girl made a drink with milk. It tasted like berries.

I also do not like drunk people. M. got a bit too drunk; or should I say: he endures alcohol less than I do, because I drank just as much if not more than him. The point is– he got angry at me. 

We had our first fight, and the morning after he did not even remember it. It started because he said there was another gay boy at the party, and I made some offhand remark on how he should not cheat on me. It was a joke. It clearly was. But he got upset, mad at the idea that I doubted him for even a second. 

Then, his anger was redirected to something else. He said I should never wear dresses, or paint my nails, because they will stab me. He was referencing something we had talked about earlier that day. He said I do not get it, that I did not grow up like him. I tried to comfort him, calm him, but he started crying until some people came over to chat with us. 

I left for a few minutes to clear up my mind, and when I got back to him he was okay. He had already forgotten. 

His internalized homophobia hurts me a lot. The fact he would say such things, the fact he would say that he’d leave me if I painted my nails, scares me. Maybe it’s also the fact he seemed so controlling about it.

I am telling myself that we will get through it. It is normal to face hardship in life. He’s aware that his internalized homophobia is bad, and he is trying to get better, which is why I like him so much. Like me, he believes in growing, improving, making mistakes and fixing things.

We danced. French people do not dance. They jump and rap the song. He called an uber. We said goodbye under the blue lights. 

-c.

#diary

[i-am-borgia]

Showtime’s The Borgias (2011-2013) in a nutshell:

Challenge...to describe The Borgias in a gif or in a single sentence?

#the Borgias #Cesare Borgia #Lucrezia Borgia #cesare x lucrezia #it's literally a red thread from episode one to the last #you could literally make a drinking game out of it #one shot when either one of them has their hands on the other's chin or chin dimple or cheek or ear or nose #two shots when they're holding hands or doing that weird little hand dance or whatever it is #and three shots when either one of them has their hands on the other's naked body #it's ridiculous that such a game works hahahah #but seriously the show would be a literal nightmare if Covid19 had arrived in 2013 can u imagine how impossible it would be for them to soc #it would totally GET OUT OF HAND #I don't think they know what phsyicial distance from each other even means #the expression TO KNOW SOMEONE LIKE THE BACK OF UR HAND gets new meaning with them #let's not forget the scene where they make it a whole point to tell us that they actually know the literal backs of each other's hands #RED FLAG RED FLAG RED FLAG #and if they stopped touching each other for one literal second it wouldn't matter one little bit #cuz it’s not as if they’re familiar with emotional distance either hahaha #and that's why this is HANDS DOWN the best show and the best ship and i don't even feel bad about it #anyone got a good one-liner to describe the show?? #maybe we can gather them all up and when people ask what the show’s about give em that #guaranteed that no one will be motivated to start watching lol #bc just Borgiacest

[jungkxook]

—hot boy bummer. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader 

⟶ genre: fuckboy!jungkook / friends with benefits / friends to lovers + smut  

⟶ words: 14,633

⟶ rating: 18+ 

⟶ summary: when jungkook offers you a proposition of just sex, no strings attached, how can you possibly say no? after all, what are best friends for?

⟶ warnings: kind of a crack fic, sprinkle of angst, way too casual conversations mid-sex, jealous jungkook, slight himbo jungkook tbh (he’s kind of a sweet loveable idiot), he also has a big dick oops, man bun and blonde jungkook to feed my fantasies!, multiple smut scenes!!!, missionary, dry humping, oral sex (m receiving), face fucking, unprotected sex, slight degradation (mostly jungkook hating himself), brief name calling, light choking, sort of praise kink

⟶ note: this was inspired by a number of things but mainly do me by kim petras being on jungkook’s spotify playlist, this tiktok sound, and this tumblr post lol also big thank you to @bratkook​ and @onherwings​ for letting me ramble on about this fic and reigniting my inspo for it 💛

( p.s. i tried to proofread this but if y’all see any typos no u didn’t, thank u <3 )

Being friends with Jungkook meant a myriad of things but mainly that there were hardly ever any boundaries that stood between you and him.

Having known him for most of your life, it was just a quintessential part of yours and his relationship with one another. From high school parties where you drunkenly spewed on his shoes and in his dad’s car after he tried lugging you home (and taking the fall all himself for your sake) to letting him lose his virginity in your bed to some girl you didn’t know because your parents were out of town and his would crucify him on the spot if they had found out; or him discovering your stash of vibrators in your dorm one day, or seeing each other naked more often than was probably necessary, there was nothing that either of you could do that would phase the other at this point even when it maybe, probably, definitely should.

College, and Jungkook’s sudden six pack of hard rock abs, only seemed to amplify the chaos of your friendship. If you’re being honest, the abs are sort of a plus ━ but they brought an air of fuckboy to him that is undeniably there even if he tries to deny it sometimes. You suppose it isn’t all his fault. Jungkook has always been bold and brash, attractively charming. Considering he’s seemingly made it his mission to sleep with every girl on campus before he graduates (undisclosed, if you’re being honest, because he’s never outwardly admitted it but you have a hunch), his confidence somehow hasn’t failed him yet.

But then there’s one night in which you think to yourself briefly: this surely must draw some sort of line.

“What if we, like, had sex?”

Jungkook says this a little too casually from beside you. He’s sat on the couch in his dorm, scrolling aimlessly on his phone, and you’re sprawled out on the remaining space, feet kicked up in his lap. You’re positive he’s drunk but, then again, so are you. The remnant shot glasses of soju you had both started the night with (though you think Jungkook’s had half the bottle himself), and your second glass of wine, are all evidence of that. You’re so absorbed by some anime Jungkook had been watching upon your arrival and refused to change that you almost don’t hear what he says. Almost. You do, however, nearly choke on the gummy bear you’ve just tossed into your mouth.

After a sudden hysterical fit of coughs, you manage to sputter, “Excuse me?”

“Like, hypothetically speaking.” He hardly budges when you turn to gawk at him, as if he’s asking you something as casual as what to eat for dinner or if you could pass him the T.V. remote. “Except, not really hypothetically.”

“You’re joking, right?” You scoff.

Jungkook blinks. “No. Why would I be joking?”

You blink. The longer you stare at him, the quicker you’re able to discern that there’s some sort of earnesty in his words and it slightly concerns you. Suddenly, you’re warm in the face. To distract from that painfully obvious fact, an incredulous laugh bubbles at your lips and you kick one of your feet at his thighs. “Very funny, Koo. Can we change the show now if you’re not even watching it?”

“I’m not joking, Y/N.” The severity in his tone makes you sit up at once. When you turn to look at him, he flashes you a taunting smirk, though the devious sparkle in his eyes lets you know this seems to be anything but a joke to him. “I’m sure you’ve thought of me naked before.”

“You’re such a fucking idiot━” Okay, so maybe you have thought of him naked before but how is it your fault when you literally have seen him naked before, and he’s so unabashed around you? “Should I bring you to a hospital to get your head checked, or━?”

“Just hear me out━” Now, he pushes himself to the edge of the sofa. “Why are you here right now?”

“In life? Because I honestly have no clue━”

“No, I meant here. Getting drunk in my apartment on a Friday night instead of getting railed.”

“Okay, I didn’t ask to get called out like that,” You grumble stiffly. “And because you’re my best friend, and I like spending time with you.” It’s not entirely a lie, because you would much rather spend time with Jungkook than anyone else. But when you feel his eyes boring into you in a look of scrutiny, your lips form into a pout which you try to hide by puckering them. “Also because boys are stupid and Hoseok’s blind date stood me up. Again.”

The events from hours earlier resurface in your memory, in which you had spent all evening making yourself look pretty for a boy you had only talked to through text that your roommate had introduced you to, only to arrive to the restaurant you were supposed to be meeting at and waiting there for half an hour by yourself before the boy had sent you a message saying something along the lines of “something came up, hope we can reschedule,” filing it under one of the lamest excuses you’ve ever heard because it hardly even borders on a valid excuse. It’s what had ultimately made you storm into Jungkook’s apartment an hour ago, exclaiming aloud as a greeting with a simple yet scarily cheerful I hate men! because Jungkook knows all about your plights with finding a significant other (or even just someone decent enough to open your legs to), usually lamenting men’s inability to have any emotions. Even the ones who you think are respectable enough, who say they’re fine not having sex on the first date, usually tend to flee right after you finally let them in because sex, as you come to find, seems to be all that men care about.

Admittedly, Jungkook is not any different.

“But it’s not like you’re any better.”

This seems to personally offend Jungkook. He looks at you cynically. “Me?”

“Tell me why you’re here with me on a Friday night when you’re literally one of the hottest guys on campus,” You point out. “You can get any girl, and yet you somehow manage to ruin it every single time. Like with Eunha.”

Jungkook winces. The poor Eunha in question is a pretty girl from your chem class, whomst Jungkook had somehow managed to charm. From what you know, they had hooked up a handful of times before that fateful night in which Jungkook had abruptly broken things off with her. If you’re being honest, he’s not a total monster. The only thing that seems to scare him away is when a girl asks to cuddle him in the morning or talks about the prospective future together. He doesn’t want to hurt them, he told you once before, and finds it much easier to nip any potential relationship in the bud before it can get too far, too out of control.

“We literally only slept together three times anyway and we never went out,” Jungkook points out. “What’s the big deal?”

A roll of your eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook. “Yeah, it’s not her fault you’re scared of commitment.”

“Nu’uh,” The boy sulks. “I’m only scared of realistic things, like microwaves.”

A snort bubbles at your lips, and it’s frustrating how adorable he finds the simple action. Rather than entertain the thought of his irrational fear of kitchen appliances (because you’ve heard it all before, and you still can’t find where he was incited with the terror of an exploding microwave), you sit up.

“Jungkook, I don’t even like you like that.”

“I don’t like you like that either. That’s why it’s so perfect!” Jungkook says brightly. “Look, we know each other better than anyone else ever could. We’re already comfortable with each other. We don’t have to go through all that boring small talk. All I’m saying is we could give it a try. No relationship, no emotions, just sex.”

You consider the thought for a moment, weigh the pros and cons in your head.

The cons? He’s your best friend.

The pros? He’s your best friend, and he’s hot.

Truthfully, your slightly buzzed mind can find very little to dissuade you away from the inviting proposition and maybe that’s why you begin to entertain the idea. And, sure, you had just complained profusely about how men sometimes only used you for sex, but it’s not like you don’t have needs too. You just don’t have the gusto in you anymore to spend days on a boy who will only just leave you the moment you let him have sex with you. At least with Jungkook, he’s already offering you a blatant deal of sex only and you know you won’t have to worry about him breaking your heart; and he doesn’t have to worry about the dreaded dreamy post-sex cuddle talk of a future family and babies and a white picket-fence home. It’s a win-win for the both of you, really. Or maybe you’re just telling yourself that.

“How would we even start?” You ask finally. “I mean… Do you even find me attractive enough in that way?”

“Yeah.” Jungkook hardly bats a lash. He meets your stare, licks slowly at his lower lip. When he sees the cross look of disbelief scrunching at your face, he hastens to respond. “I’m not blind. You’re fucking drop dead gorgeous, Y/N.”

“But physically attractive? I’m no hot girl Eunha.”

“If I wanted Eunha, I’d be between her legs right now. Y/N, of course I think you’re attractive.” A gentle sliver of a smile dances upon his lips. He leans his head on the back of the couch, eyes fluttering over your appearance shortly. “I’ve always liked your lips, and your eyes. Think they’re beautiful.”

Suddenly, you’re flustered again. The room feels as if it’s getting increasingly warmer, yet you seem to want to bask in the feeling and attention a little longer. “That’s too sentimental.”

“It’s true though.”

“Well, you’re lucky I’ve always had a thing for idiots,” You jest playfully. “Jerks, too. Playboys who are too hot for their own good.”

“Ah, and I love it when you talk dirty to me.” A cheeky grin tugs at his lips as he clutches at his heart over his chest. “It’s a good thing I like it a little too much, knowing you’ll always keep me in check.”

But then the mirth seems to fade from your mind long enough for you to hum aloud pensively, “And I’ve always liked your eyes. I’ve never seen such big eyes before. Sometimes, if I look long enough, it’s like I can see the stars in them.”

As you’re speaking about them, his irises glisten magnificently. He bites at his lip now, as if to hide the way his soft smile turns sheepish. “I like your bum.”

“Really? I always worry it’s too flat.”

“Are you kidding? Your ass is a fucking god-send. It’s hard not to stare when you wear leggings sometimes,” Jungkook admits, earning a small giggle from you. “And I like your boobs. I’ve always wondered…” He trails off abruptly, shaking his head. He shoots you an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop. I’m being an idiot, aren’t I?”

“Well, maybe I don’t want you to stop.”

Silence saturates the room now, settling comfortably between the two of you. He wonders what you’re thinking, and you wonder if he can hear your heart hammering against your chest. Perhaps on any other day when you were of sound mind, you could find a plethora of reasons as to why sleeping with your best friend was a terrible idea. But being that you were slightly tipsy, and Jungkook isn’t far off, you can find not one fault, except for maybe how tragically hot Jungkook looks sitting across from you and how he’s never been yours, at least in that way. Would it be so wrong to try just once?

You shift then, pushing yourself to your knees if only so you can worm your way towards him before swinging one leg over his. You settle back on his lap, hands gripping his shoulders. He can feel your core press against the inside of his thigh, just where his dick is nestled and he has to bite back a moan. His eyes are wider than usual, as if believing the moment to be surreal, though something sultry threatens to darken them.

“Y/N…”

The excitement crackles through your veins like electricity. You’ve never been in such a compromising position with Jungkook before, and you wonder if it should be concerning just how much you’re enjoying it. It almost feels as if time slows down, every second dragging on, yet he can’t look away. His hands come to tug at your hoodie (that he’s almost positive was his once upon a time before you nicked it from his closet) and you meet him part way, replacing his efforts as you pull it up and off your body. Then, you’re sitting back on his lap in your full nude glory, chest bare and right in his face. He eyes the swell of your breasts, the perk of your nipples. Of course you’re not wearing anything beneath your hoodie ━ and, god, he loves it.

“Touch me?”

Your voice comes to him in an almost dream. You reach for his hand then, your palm soft around his knuckles and the tattoos that ink his skin. It’s the same hand of which he wears the other half to your pair of friendship bracelets in one of his favourite colours of red, decorated with little pink hearts. It came in a matching set of two (yours in your own favourite colour, currently on the wrist of the hand you’re using to guide Jungkook’s), cute little macrame braid ones with hearts woven into the design that you had pointed out one day while you were both at the mall and he had bought without any hesitation mostly as a joke but resulted in both of you wearing them on a daily basis.

Now, all he can do is continue watching you with bated breath as you guide his hand right where you both want him. He comes to cup the underside of one of your breasts, your hand over his pressing his fingers tighter together until you can feel some sort of pleasant pressure. And, just like that, something feral and needy seems to snap within him. His hand slithers from your grasp if only so he can flick his thumb across your nipple, mesmerized by the softness of it. He’s only ever seen you naked once before and it was fleeting. You were both drunk, skinny dipping in a lake with a handful of other friends, but it had been too dark to notice much else. But now? Now, he can see all of you and the sight strikes a chord right down to his dick.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” Jungkook groans.

“Koo.” The cute little nickname you had given him sounds dirty now as it slips from your lips in a moan. “Too sentimental.”

But Jungkook isn’t listening because you really, really, really are so beautiful. He bows his head to your chest, catching one of your nipples in his mouth. He murmurs something against your chest that sounds akin to, “We can take things slow.”

“Slow…” Your head is spinning, but it’s a delightful sensation. Something hard pokes against your ass now, and the adrenaline only seems to build within you. It’s odd how everything feels so foreign ━ exploring his body and these newfound feelings like the uncharted territory it is ━ yet secure and safe at the same time. As if you know what to do next, where to touch next, how to move, your bodies almost fitting together like pieces to a puzzle. “Y-Yeah, I like that. Can I move?”

“Fuck, yes, please,” he growls. He’s much too busy nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin on your chest, teeth tugging at your nipple.

You hurry to obey, giving a small experimental swivel of your hips that almost immediately has the both of your inhaling a sharp breath of air. His dick strains against his sweatpants, the material doing very little in protecting him against you. Your core throbs as you rub yourself on him.

“Like this?” You rasp.

“Yeah, just like that.” Jungkook’s head rolls back onto the couch, his eyes squeezing shut and his blonde hair spilling into his eyes. He clenches his jaw, the nerves fluttering in the corner, as pure euphoria riddles his features. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anything so sexy. “Fuck, we probably shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Yeah,” You agree, breathless. “Do you wanna stop?”

“No. Do you?”

“No.”

“Thank god.” The sigh of relief that emits from Jungkook startles even him but, in the heat of the moment, he doesn’t register how any of this could be a mistake. “Ah, shit━ Faster━”

“Mmm, Koo━” You whimper as you quicken your pace, the vulgar harbored thought of his dick in you thrilling you to no end.

“Fuuck, I’ve never heard you sound like this before. So needy, so desperate,” Jungkook grunts, his fingers digging into your hips. And it’s all because of him, the way you’re feeling. He’s never wanted to hurry to please you faster, itching to tear you apart if he’ll get to hear those noises from you again and again. “I━”

He’s gonna cum, and he’s not even in your pussy. What’s gotten into him?  

He presses you a little harsher against his dick, sitting up straighter so that his chest is pressed flush against yours. He leans forward, lips chasing after yours, before you pull back just enough sluggishly to press your finger to his mouth.

“Uh uh. No kissing,” You rasp.

The words process in Jungkook’s head, but the weight of them don’t seem to linger in his daze. He’s far too overwhelmed by you and the way you’re making him feel to even begin to try to decipher why you avoid his mouth and so, for now, he doesn’t care. Instead, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, nose nuzzling against your throat. You clutch at his hair, tugging at the roots tight enough for him to moan.

“Nnngh, Jungkook━” You whine. “I’m gonna━ Oh, fuck, Koo━”

And then you’re unravelling, right in his very arms. He holds you close as you tremble and shake, rutting your hips sloppily against his to ride out your high, and Jungkook thinks he can definitely get used to this. The familiar burn forms in his stomach and, without even thinking of it, he comes in the confinements of his pants.

But in the heat of the moment, he doesn’t notice quite a lot of things. Neither do you.

So, maybe you could both find a hundred and one reasons why having sex with your best friend would surely cross some lines, but the thing with you and Jungkook (and what would eventually blossom into a hubristic relationship of sorts) is that it wasn’t just sex. You would always be comfortable around him, as he would be with you. And nothing could ever possibly get weird between the two of you ━ not when you had both made a promise to each other that it wouldn’t get in the way of your friendship.

Because ━ while, yeah, he’s hot and suffers from fuckboy tendencies from time-to-time and, aside from random late night hookups ━ he was still the same boy that would drag you out at three in the morning to drive to the next city over for a bowl of ramen, who would marathon shows as long as One Piece or Game of Thrones with you, watching as much as you can in one all-nighter; who would come to your dorm, no matter the time of day, the moment you said you were sick or suffering from cramps, piled high with your favourite snacks; who shared a repertoire of silly inside jokes with you that never made any sense to anyone but the both of you; who insisted you both wear friendship bracelets even in college. He would always be an angel to you, treat you well, because you meant that much to him.

A small thought in the back of Jungkook’s head wonders, above all else, if you were anyone different, would he have even bothered suggesting such a ludicrous idea, drunk or not?

Because he’s positive no one else could make him cum in his pants like a horny prepubescent teen ━ no one except for you.

“If we’re really gonna do this, we need to set some ground rules.”

Admittedly, neither you nor Jungkook knew what would happen after Jungkook’s proposition to you. Maybe you were expecting the two of you to pretend as if nothing had ever happened, or laugh it off as something so inconsequential that neither of you should bother worrying about it. Instead, the very next day, you find that you’re back in Jungkook’s dorm. Only this time, you’re in his bed, and he spent the past half hour sufficiently eating you out.

Now, you’ve had an epiphany in the form of Jungkook’s dick, and that is that it’s big.

You’ve seen it before on occasion ━ like when he streaked nude across campus as a dare or when he needed to use your shower because his apartment was under maintenance and he walked out on you in the living room ━ but this is clearly a very different circumstance. All red, swollen, angry tip wet and glistening with precum. You had to brace yourself as he pushed himself into you, cautiously and slowly, enjoying the way you stretch to fit around him. If you had a drunken excuse the night before for loving the thought of getting off with Jungkook, then you surely don’t have one now. It’s a shameless guilty pleasure, you think, that he’s at least indulging in.

“Rules,” Jungkook scoffs now. “You’re such a nerd. Fuck, you feel so fucking good━ You doing okay?”

More than. Your head lolls back against his pillow, eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head. “Mhm.”

“Want a minute?”

“Maybe.”

Jungkook pauses without any hesitation, gnawing on his lower lip as your walls clench around him so tightly he feels he might fall apart then and there. His hands are on your hips, thumbs rubbing comforting circles against your burning skin. A few deep breaths later and you’re probing Jungkook to move again. His hips rut into yours at a leisure pace, and he marvels for a moment at the way his dick disappears into your pussy, slick and wet with your own arousal. The thought of being in you ━ of finally feeling your walls wrapped around him, all wet and snug ━ is enough to make him bust then and there, but he refrains miraculously.

“Holy fuck,” You groan. “Why are you so big━”

Your voice cuts off into a delightful whimper, walls aching around him. Jungkook snorts, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. “Nothing sexier than hearing you stroke my ego.”

“Don’t let it get to your already big head,” You retort sluggishly.

“Big head!” he grumbles against your throat, lips brushing faintly against your skin and sending shivers down your spine. “Insult me some more. You know how it gets me going.”

“Oh my god, shut up. Where were we?”

“Rules.”

“Right,” You breathe in a sharp inhale of air as he grinds against your hips. “And rule number one is no kissing. That’s way too intimate.”

Jungkook quirks a brow. “How is kissing more intimate than having my dick in you?”

“It just is.” You refuse to tell him the truth. You poke your fingers at his sides, causing him to jerk against you. “Don’t question it.”

“Fine. Then no sentimental shit in general, like cuddling or pet names,” Jungkook retorts. “And no public displays of affection.”

“Okay,” You nod. “Fuck, Jungkook━”

“God, I love hearing you moan my name,” Jungkook grunts. He watches with fascination the way your face reacts at his every movement. “Too much?”

“No. Kinda hot,” You admit. An abrupt thought pops into your head that has you murmuring hazily, “Oh, and you can’t have sex with me to your sex playlist.”

Jungkook looks appalled. The sex playlist in question is one you’ve heard briefly before, if only because you’ve walked in on Jungkook and his flavour of the month a handful of times one too many times.

“So you’re telling me you don’t want to have the best orgasm of your life to The Weeknd or the Neighbourhood? WAP?” Jungkook asks, wriggling his brows suggestively. “Alanis Morissette?” You have less than half a second to register the 90s pop singer as out of place before Jungkook breaks out into song with a brief rendition of Head over Feet. “You’re my best friend, best friend with benefits━!”

Part of you knows he’s joking, but there’s still a small sliver of you that makes you gawk at him dubiously before dissolving into a fit of unabashed laughter. It rumbles against his chest, vibrates his dick in you. “You’re not serious, are you? That’s not actually in your sex playlist, is it?”

He flashes you a shit-eating grin. “Guess you’ll never know now.”

Another roll of your eyes makes him snicker. He’s gotten used to your snide remarks, but he’ll gladly keep suffering under them if he gets to wipe that taunting smirk off your face each time with the way his dick makes you feel. You cling a little tighter to his shoulders and muse aloud, “So that’s it then?”

“Yeah━” Jungkook knows you’re referring to the rules and your plan, although it’s getting harder to focus on talking as he continues to grind against you. “And nothing has to change between us, even if we stop. We’re still just two best friends.”

“Yup.”

“Who have sex from time to time.”

“Yeah.”

He can’t help himself. He tries again. “Who might kiss.”

“Nope.” You’re smiling even despite the way you shoot him an aggravated stare first.

“We might?”

“No, we definitely won’t.”

Worth a shot, he thinks to himself. At least you really do always keep him in check.

After all, what are best friends for?

So, maybe a part of you thought the shift in your relationship with Jungkook wouldn’t last very long. A week at most, and maybe Hoseok would find you another pointless let down of a blind date to go on and Jungkook would get horny for some other girl ━ but it’s certainly been more than a week now, and you’ve had sex with him more than two times.

A third, and a fourth, if you’re being blatantly honest, and maybe a few more times after that but you don’t really remember what count you’re both on now which should probably be concerning. Days elapse into days, which turn to weeks, then months. Morning, afternoon, and night.

It’s not as if you hadn’t already spent almost every waking moment with Jungkook but now you had a reason to be at his apartment at any and all hours of the day and not solely for movie watching marathons. You’re positive he’s still having his occasional random flings, though you’re fortunate his commitment issues at least force him to go to their homes rather than his for the most part, so you never really have to witness half-naked girls stumbling out of his apartment just as you’re wandering in. He says it has something to do with how his bedroom is his sacred space, though you think it’s more like he wouldn’t want his hook ups discovering his Overwatch figurines or something (because, before Jungkook’s proposition, you’ve walked in on him once and a girl when they were entangled on the couch in his living room).

But you’ve noticed lately you’re getting too comfortable with your arrangement with Jungkook; too comfortable knowing he’ll be there at the end of a long day to greet you, to please you until you’re crying out his name. Sometimes he tells you about the girls he’s texting, or shows you a picture from a hot girl’s Instagram whose D.M.s he’s just slid into. And sometimes you’re left wondering how often he comes straight to you after hooking up with a random girl.

It shouldn’t matter to you, and you swear that it doesn’t.

Maybe you’re just overthinking things. Hoseok certainly seems to think so, but his judgement wasn’t much to go by.

Because, lately, Hoseok has been encouraging you more and more to give Yukhei (the blind date Hoseok had initially set you up with when you found yourself at Jungkook’s) another chance for two reasons: 1) “Yukhei’s a nice boy,” he had cheerfully reminded you, “he’ll treat you well,” and 2) “Stop fucking your best friend. It’s morally wrong.”

There were many things wrong with his statement, from the fact that you didn’t exactly consider standing up a date as “nice” and that you were also still begrudgingly lamenting the way Hoseok had discovered your recent fling with Jungkook (although, you weren’t being very inconspicuous, having shower sex with Jungkook early one morning when you were certain Hoseok would be spending the day at his fiance’s home instead of yours).

But then you meet Yukhei and you realize that, oh crap, he’s cute. And he’s nice.

As it turns out, after bumping into him one day when you’re with Hoseok lounging on the quad of your campus and he comes bounding over to return a textbook Hoseok had lent him for a specific class, Yukhei is so easily charming. He also gives a pretty valid excuse for flaking on your date, proving that he had to present his dissertation, making you clearly aware that he’s cute, nice, and smart. Jungkook, on the other hand, doesn’t see the appeal, yet his curiosity and intrigue seems to get the best of him.

“So that was your blind date?” Jungkook asks after grabbing your attention on the quad and stealing you away from Hoseok and Yukhei. “Yukhei?”

“You know him?”

“Seen him around,” Jungkook shrugs nonchalantly. “I’ve never really talked to him. But him? You’re not telling me you’re actually interested in him, are you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe,” You’re truly just as clueless about your feelings towards Yukhei as Jungkook seems to be. “What’s so wrong about him?”

“He’s━” Jungkook stops. He shakes his head. “Heard he’s got a small dick anyway.”

You shoot the boy a wary look, only to find him grinning deviously at himself. “Maybe he just wants to be friends.”

At this, Jungkook lets out a scoffing sound that borders on disbelieving laughter. “No, I definitely think he wants to have sex with you in his Toyota Camry, Y/N, but what do I know?”

“You’re not jealous, are you?”

“No, why would I be jealous?”

You can’t quite tell if he’s angry or not but, then again, why would he be? As far as either of you are concerned, there’s nothing to be jealous of.

So then why does it feel like he’s simply just telling himself that?

“Are you seriously on your phone right now?”

Jungkook asks this from somewhere behind you a handful of days later, a little peeved but most likely because your jarring 8:00 a.m. alarm had roused the both of you violently awake. In his defense, Jungkook is not a morning person.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You’re currently sprawled out on your hands and knees on his bed, phone still in your grasp after having plucked it off the nightstand in haste. Your clothes are scattered across the floor of his room, remnant clues of the night before when he had beckoned you over after hours, and your body is covered in nothing but hickeys and an unbuttoned blue flannel belonging to Jungkook that you had chucked on last night that does nothing in covering up the swell of your breasts which Jungkook is now currently eyeing. “Am I not giving you enough attention? Were you expecting cuddles or something? Thought that wasn’t in the rules.”

“No,” Jungkook huffs. He runs a hand through his long messy hair in an attempt to fix it; he ultimately gives up taming his locks, instead using the hair tie around his wrist to tie his hair back into a cute yet sexy little ponytail. As he does so, you notice the red friendship bracelet around his wrist and smile smally. “But my dick could use some cuddles. Preferably with your mouth, but it will also gladly accept your hand.”

Jungkook may not be a morning person but, as you’ve come to realize, his dick certainly is.

It’s painfully obvious too, his hardened length straining against the gray sweatpants he had thrown on at some point. And, god, did he have to wear those? It left little to the imagination, the outline of his length teasing you just enough.

“I should get going,” You say. “I have a test coming up. There’s supposed to be a review session today in class, and I don’t want to miss it.”

“Well, you don’t seem like you’re in a rush since you’re still on your phone,” Jungkook points out. “Who are you texting anyway? Yukhei?”

“Anger is an emotion,” You rebuke casually. “So is jealousy.”

Jungkook feigns a look of mock hurt. “I’m not angry or jealous! I’m needy.”

Still, Jungkook reaches out to swiftly pluck your phone from your hands.

“Jungkook━!”

He’s pressed up against your back in an instant, his dick hard against your ass, and he doesn’t move very far even when you twist in your spot in an attempt to grab your phone back. You don’t, and instead you end up on your back with him on his side, propped up on his elbow. You miss when he casts a swift gaze down at your phone, only to see that Yukhei’s chat messages are indeed open, and something seems to gnaw terribly at his gut before he tosses your phone to the side. He’s looking at you now with those big beautiful eyes of his, and you hate it.

“Please?” he beckons. He ruts his hips impatiently but slowly against your leg. He drops his head to bury his face in the crook of your neck, lips dangerously close to brushing against your flesh but he refrains somehow. “M’so hard right now, could probably bust the moment you touch me.”

The thought is tempting, having a helpless Jungkook cumming in your hands. The sight alone has quickly become your favourite thing, helping the frustrated boy get off. Besides, you’re certain you could ask Hoseok for the review notes.

Fuck it, you cave.

You fidget until you’ve pressed him back against the bed and have clambered on top of him, wiggling your way down to fit between his legs. Jungkook is watching you now with a half-asleep expression, though his teeth sink into his lower lip as you pull at his sweatpants until they’re down at his thighs, letting his swollen dick spring free.

“You know━” You hum. You reach out to grab at the base of his cock. “Yukhei wants to hang out, and Hoseok keeps telling me to give it a shot.”

That much is true. Part of you wants to say yes, if only because Yukhei seems promising enough, but the thought alone is enough for you to feel as if you’ve done something horribly wrong to Jungkook.

“Oh.” The word eclipses Jungkook’s mouth in a shallow breath of air. Then, your mouth wraps around the puffy head of his dick, shining with leaking precum that you swallow back, and Jungkook’s reaction is immediate. Head thrown back, face scrunching together, muscles in his toned abdomen flexing as he seizes and grunts aloud. “Oh, fuck━ Well… Are you gonna?”

Jungkook asks the last question with much difficulty, and a part of him thinks it doesn’t all have to do with how you’re making him feel.

“Dunno.” You snort around his dick, and he marvels at how adorable such a lewd action can seem.

You decide to focus on sucking him off because it truly is a sexy sight to see, letting the topic of Yukhei drop. Jungkook certainly doesn’t mind. As you swirl your tongue around his tip and reach up with your free hand to fondle at his balls, his long hair falls into his lashes but he still tries to find you past his wild locks, hooded eyes gazing down at you.  

“Ah, shit━” Jungkook hisses delightfully, hips jerking forward instinctively into your mouth. The faintest hints of a drowsy smirk tug at his lips. “Fuck, yes, just like that.”

Yeah, you think to yourself then, you’re definitely going to ride him later. Screw going to class.

From: Jungkook Sent: 1:05 a.m.

bro i noticed u werent wearing our friendship bracelet while u were giving me head earlier. is everything ok??

You wake in the morning to a single text from Jungkook ━ and one you had not been expecting.

That’s not to say that getting the occasional text message from Jungkook at any and all hours of the day was abnormal, but the extent of his messages sent anywhere past midnight usually always range from something more coherent in the form of “what would u do if i was there rn?” to something exuding typical lazy Jungkook manner with a simple “dtf?” or “send noods lol” to something even more provocatively cryptic such as the eggplant and splashing water (or, as far as Jungkook is concerned, something else entirely) emojis and nothing else, left open for your own interpretation that typically, usually, without a doubt, results in you in his bed and his dick in you. But this seems to be something else entirely.

Unfortunately, Jungkook’s text isn’t the only concern of yours.

Hoseok has spent the better part of the morning giving you a lecture on why having sex with your best friend is bad. He seems so passionate about the topic that you’re certain he would have pulled out a powerpoint at any moment, each slide ending in a picture of Yukhei and why you should maybe try fucking him instead, if you entertained the idea a little longer. Hoseok claims it’s just a harmless date. Yukhei might be a nice boy, but you don’t know how you feel about him. You don’t want to lead him on, and a scary thought points out the fact that maybe, while Yukhei is a nice boy, he isn’t Jungkook.

“I don’t get why you don’t just give Yukhei a chance━” Hoseok is saying now, sat on the couch in your shared apartment with him. “It’s not like you have to marry him. I don’t think one date will hurt━ Aaand, you’re not even listening to me anymore, are you?”

The sheepish look on your face is enough of an answer for him. You’ve been anxiously eyeing your phone and the text Jungkook had sent you last that you’ve yet to respond to, even despite being awake for more than a few hours now.

“Yes, I am listening,” You say dismissively. “Something about how one date won’t hurt, but that’s what you said when Yoongi asked you out, and you’re literally engaged now.”

The glistening metallic ring on Hoseok’s finger is evidence enough. The boy looks down at it as if seeing it for the first time, purses his lips, and then nods in agreement. “Okay, yeah, maybe you’re right. But you’re holding out for Jungkook and for what? He’s hot, yeah, and he’s your best friend, sure, but at the end of the day he’s still just a horny male who wants to stick his dick in anything that moves.”

“Hoseok.” Your grumbling sigh is interrupted by the motion of your phone vibrating against your thigh once more. You peek at the screen fleetingly to see a new text.

From: Jungkook Sent: 2:35 p.m.

send n00ds?

miss ur tits :(

Typical Jungkook.

The text from the night before is all but seemingly forgotten from his mind, and you can’t quite tell if you’re devastated or relieved. You don’t have very long to discern which emotion you’re feeling when Hoseok snatches your phone to look at what’s gotten your attention before exclaiming suddenly, “Aha! See! What did I say?”

“It’s not like that,” You wave Hoseok off. “Jungkook treats me well. He respects me, and I’m comfortable with him.”

“And how long until whatever this is━” He gestures vaguely to your phone as if to point out your relationship with Jungkook, “has to end? Do you really think a pinky promise is going to make sure your friendship with him isn’t totally ruined? I mean, how can you continue being casual friends with someone, see them dating someone else, when they’ve had their dick in you?”

You know it makes sense. Realistically, you either stop sleeping with each other or it potentially develops into something more. But in both circumstances, what were the chances that either of you didn’t get your heart broken? Maybe a part of you was apprehensive of Jungkook finding the “right” person for him one day that has him ending things with you, and while you swear you’d be happy for him, relationships sometimes have a way of distracting people from those already around them. Were you prepared to have someone take him away from you, platonically and whatever it is else that you have with him? Did you really think you could just keep being friends with him, as if nothing ever occurred between you two?

You don’t think Jungkook is bothered worrying about the state of your friendship with him, much less overthinking it like you seem to be. It shouldn’t be a big deal ━ yet why was there still that terrible nagging voice in the back of your mind? Whether or not Hoseok is right, you don’t want to find out. You don’t have feelings for Jungkook anyway.

But your ability to bend at his every will is certainly interesting.

You grab your phone before Hoseok can do any serious damage like unlocking it and responding to Jungkook, clutching it to your chest as you start to cross the living room. The other boy looks at you in bewilderment. “Where are you going now?”

“Where does it look?” You call over your shoulder just before you disappear into the bathroom, and Hoseok deduces all at once that you’re truly a lost cause. “I need to send him a picture of my boobs.”

“He’s totally into you, Y/N.”

Admittedly, there were many mundane but essentially weird things you’ve talked to Jungkook about while having sex. You’ve had many heated debates about everything under the sun from whether or not pineapple on pizza should be illegal to top five betrayals in either movies or animes, to passionate grand philosophical discussions about what exists outside of the universe.

It’s not as if you had been planning on talking about Yukhei to Jungkook when he had invited you over to his apartment late at night after sending your risqué boob picture to him but, like many things in your friendship with Jungkook, it sort of just happened. He had asked you how your day was and you had decided to broach the topic experimentally, though you think deep down you’re doing it on purpose to see if he’d react in any way. What started with you mentioning Hoseok’s adamance and you sort of genuinely asking Jungkook for advice on Yukhei somehow evolved into Jungkook interrogating you on whether or not you’ve hung out with him yet.

“Jungkook. You’re getting off topic,” You admonish him now, as if your own choice of topic is any better when his dick is currently in you.

Jungkook is wedged between your thighs smushed up against your chest, large palms holding you on your ribcage in place beneath him. He’s a comfortable heavy draped over top of you, cock stretching you wide. You can feel his heart hammering against yours and he’s slick with sweat, golden hair clinging to his forehead and in his pretty eyes. You resist the urge to reach out and brush the messy locks away but, again, how would that be any less intimate of an action than what you’re already doing? Another line uncrossed, you suppose.

“How am I off topic?” Jungkook retorts. “You literally just said you can’t tell if he’s into you but he dropped by when you were done class and bought you lunch. You don’t just do that for a girl you don’t care that much about.”

“You buy me lunch, like, every day,” You point out.

“Because you’re my best friend. Of course I care about you,” Jungkook says.

“Ah, Jungkook━” You curse suddenly, grabbing his attention when you shift your weight beneath him. “You’re crushing me. Why’d you stop moving?”

He doesn’t have an answer, if only because he hadn’t even realized he’d stop moving in the first place. Without hesitation, he continues leisurely rutting his hips against yours, grabbing at one of your legs to hook it around his waist. This new angle lets you feel even more of him as he sinks further into you, if that was even still possible, reaching so far into you that you swear it’s like you can feel him in your stomach. Your head lolls back against the pillows, pure euphoria contorting your face so much so to the point that it distracts you entirely from the distant look glazing over Jungkook’s eyes.

“Yukhei definitely wants to bang,” he huffs under his breath.

At once, an exasperated groan fills his ears.

“I can’t believe we’re seriously having this conversation right now,” You roll your eyes, fingers prodding at his sides. “I don’t wanna talk about Yukhei potentially wanting to have sex with me.”

Jungkook’s glad you said it, at least. Though now he’s watching you with hooded eyes as he thrusts into you a little harder, maybe a little intentionally. His indulgent gaze droops to your breasts, admiring the way they bounce beneath him each time his hips make contact with yours. He thinks back earlier in the day to the picture you had sent him which, really, had sparked the mood for the rest of the night.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he whines abruptly. His eyes screw shut and brows furrow together as your walls clench around him. He drops his head to bury his face in your chest, lips momentarily wrapping around one of your nipples as he sucks harshly at the soft flesh. When he speaks next, forehead still resting against your collarbones, his voice is a breathless croak, “Well, do you like him?”

“No,” You moan. “Maybe━ Fuck, Koo━ I don’t know.”

“He’s gonna be at that party Tae’s throwing, isn’t he?” Jungkook tries to focus, but it’s becoming increasingly harder to do so when he’s inching closer and closer to his high. “Shit, ah, Y/N━ Why don’t you try talking to him or something? See how the night goes?”

“He’s nice but I don’t think he’s the one for me,” You admit sheepishly. “I think I’m just gonna end things while I still can, with as little harm as possible.”

“Well, glad that’s settled,” Jungkook mumbles. “Can we please stop talking about Yukhei now?”

You seem to miss the way he clings to you a little tighter, hands flying down to grip at your hips, nails digging crescent moon shapes into your skin. He snaps his hips into yours a little faster this time, your pussy throbbing around him.

“Nngh, Jungkook━”

Your hands fumble to grip at his hair, tugging tightly at the roots and earning a delightful hiss from the boy. Your own mouth drops open in a silent moan and it’s a wonder he doesn’t combust at just how sexy the sight is. He hates how his eyes stay trained on the shape of your lips, the soft plumpness of them. He’s felt them wrapped around his dick plenty of times before but he concedes that it’s probably hardly anywhere near to how it would feel to kiss you. Like actually kiss you, tongue and all.

God, what’d he give just to smother your lips with his.

And, god, he hopes you never find out. He’s positive that thought is far more scandalous alone than anything you’ve ever done together.

You’re writhing beneath him now, hips jutting forward desperately to meet his. “I’m gonna cum, Jungkook━”

“Fuck, yes,” Jungkook growls. “Wanna feel you cream around my cock so bad. Come on, baby━”

In the heat of the moment, you seem to miss the pet name that slurs off his tongue and the sentiment in it. A few more jolting slams of his hips and you’re tumbling over the edge. He has to sputter for air when he feels your pussy wrapping so tightly around him, stuttering in his pace above you if only to watch as you unravel beneath him. Hooded dark eyes glazed over in that perfect fucked out expression he loves so much, teeth biting at your lower lip so hard he wonders if it’ll bruise in the morning.

A sudden thought pops into his head when you’ve settled enough, amongst the blinding pure white of bliss that clouds his thoughts. “Did you get my text by the way? The one I sent last night?”

You gasp for air. The bracelet on your wrist itches at the mention of it, and you’re fortunate you decided to wear it that afternoon before coming to Jungkook’s. “Y-Yeah━”

“Well…?”

“Everything’s fine,” You say this as dismissively as you can. Your core is still vibrating after the harsh impact of your orgasm paired with Jungkook’s swollen length still in you. “I just… I was taking a shower and didn’t want to get it wet. I forgot to put it back on in the morning.”

That’s a lie. You had mostly taken it off as part of an experiment, though it hasn’t answered much. At least Jungkook doesn’t seem to realize that.

“Oh,” Jungkook breathes. A beat of silence passes, before he deadpans cockily, “Wait, you were taking a shower and I wasn’t invited?”

“Oh my god, shut up━” Maybe if he hadn’t just currently driven you to nirvana and back, you’d notice the way the sloppy grin on his face is a simple taunt. But you’re much too distracted to care. Instead, you use your leg that’s still hooked around his waist to gently push and roll him onto his back so that you can straddle his hips. His eyes sparkle mischievously as he watches you waste no time in hurrying to grind against him at an agonizingly steady pace that makes his head spin. “You’re ruining the moment. I’m trying to make you cum.”

A devious cackle rumbles from his chest, albeit a little contented at the same time. Yeah, he definitely likes the sound of that. “Well then, by all means, don’t let me stop you.”

It’s only then that his question comes back into your mind. If he felt the need to ask you again about the bracelet, maybe that meant something after all. At the very least, it means he hadn’t forgotten about it altogether. On the other hand, you wonder how often he had spent thinking, or over-thinking, the issue in the past twenty-four hours, if at all.

Was it wrong to feel some semblance of joy over that potential fact? Probably.

That doesn’t seem to bother you much this time. Not when he’s gazing up at you as if you’re some divine sexy goddess, all his to enjoy. You can’t help yourself; you reach down to brush the sweaty hair from his eyes, perhaps all too gentle of an action for best friends.

And he smiles, maybe a little too softly and maybe a little too ardently if you look close enough.

He smiles.

The thing about your supposed “rules” with your relationship with Jungkook is that there might be a few loose ends that neither you nor Jungkook pay much attention to sometimes.

But that’s neither here nor there.

Mostly, the “no public displays of affection” clause is easily disregardable. It’s typically when you’re too drunk to remember it and a bit needy, craving one another’s touch, but those around you never truly seem to care or even notice because, if you’re lucky, they’re equally as smashed. Sometimes the “no cuddles” clause blurs into a gray area where it’s simply just you and Jungkook post-sex, sprawled out in his bed, not necessarily wrapped up in one another’s arms and cooing sweet nothings to one another but giggling at nothing in particular except one another as you bask in each other’s company and nothing more. You suppose some rules are meant to be broken.

For the most part, Jungkook never seems to question the no kissing rule you were so adamant in insisting. Not until one night in which you’re left wondering where things go so drastically wrong. It starts off as normally as any other day with you and Jungkook can, spent in his apartment binge watching movies. You hadn’t expected that night to switch as suddenly as it does when Jungkook shoots you a text earlier in the day asking if you want to come to his for a night of casual drinking as simply “best friends.” But, as always, one thing seems to lead to another, and you can’t get enough of Jungkook. Maybe it’s in the way he holds you a little tighter, the way he tugs you onto his lap on the sofa in his living room, the way he grips your thighs with a certain type of insatiable desire.

“You know…” he hums. “You drive me insane. In, like, the best way possible.”

Part of you realizes his actions even without him seeming to, and the drunken smile on your face remaining frozen in place, a little dumbfounded. “Jungkook…”

“When I’m with you…” He lifts his stare to look at you, but you have nothing to say. Neither does he. Instead, you’re left grinning at one another and suddenly your face is warm. He leans towards you, his nose nuzzling against the side of your throat. Your hands stay threaded in his hair now, and he swears he feels you secure your grip as if to pull him closer.

You can feel his lips brush faintly against your skin, grazing along your neck to the underside of your jaw. Up, up, up, until━

It’s just as his mouth meets with the corner of yours that you register what he’s doing, even in your clouded state. You turn your head just in time, and he comes to an immediate halt, his lips barely making contact with your cheek instead before he pulls away. He doesn’t move very far but you also don’t push him away just yet. Instead, you shift your head to look at him, still inches apart from him.

“What are you doing?” You ask. He can’t quite tell if you’re appalled or not, an empty expression staring back at him.

“I━ You━” He fumbles over his words, squeezes his eyes shut. He blames it on the alcohol even though his head is swimming with thoughts that seem to only concern you. But then a fierceness seems to stir within him, one that makes his jaw clench as he meets your stunned stare. The question rolls off his tongue without meaning to. “Is this about Yukhei?”

“What?”

“Is that why you weren’t wearing our bracelet the other day?”

The question is so ridiculous, you have to laugh. “What are you going on about?”

But Jungkook doesn’t see what’s so funny and so he tries again, his persistence taking hold. “Is that why you won’t ever let me kiss you?”

You blink. Then, you’re shaking your head at him. Exasperation hangs heavy in your words, shaping in the form of a tired scoff. “You’re not serious.”

You’ve slithered off of his lap before he can even think to stop you ━ but if he had, would you have even stayed? You’re mad, but he doesn’t know why. “No, I wanna know. Because if what we have is already so meaningless, what makes a kiss any different?”

“Jungkook…”

“So I wanna know,” he says, brows unconsciously knitting together. His gaze is searching yours desperately, as if begging for an answer he’ll want to hear. But he knows he’s being an idiot, a small sober part in him makes him realize that. “Humour me. Have you had sex with him yet?”

“Oh my god. I can’t believe that’s what you’re on about.” Suddenly, you’re frowning. Your hardened stare meets the boy’s and the irritation that scrunches at your face makes him wince, but it’s too late for him to take back the damage that he’s done. “Yeah, Jungkook, we fucked in his stupid Toyota that you hate so much and he choked me and I liked it. He did all sorts of dirty things to me. Is that what you want to hear?” The sardonic tone hisses at his ears, but he bites back his words, the sober part in him doing some decent good by shushing him. “No, Jungkook, we didn’t fuck. We haven’t even gone on a date, and I don’t even know if I want to, and you think I’m throwing myself at him.”

“But you wanna.”

“You’re being an idiot,” You admonish. “I’m going home. Talk to me when you’re sober.”

He has just enough time to watch you turn on your heel, march towards his door, when he scrambles to his feet. The weight of his words and actions finally seem to dawn on him, hitting him harshly in the face and in the heart.

“Fuck, wait! Wait━” he gasps.

He chases after you, hand reaching out to press his palm against the door before you can shimmy it open. He’s fortunate when you turn to look at him, though your arms are folded impatiently over your chest.

“You’re right. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad,” he promises earnestly. Then, he lets out a frustrated groan. “I just… What if we… Shit, what if we stop for right now? Y’know… Hooking up. Whatever this is.”

He gestures vaguely between the two of you with his hands, a wearied look plastering his face.

You hate to admit how his words seem to affect you. They bite at the air, leave you breathless as you gawk at him, but the harsh realization of it all is that you were never his to have and he was never yours. Hoseok had been right when he said these things were bound to come to an end ━ so why did it seem to hurt you so much?

A beat of prolonged silence passes between the two of you. Jungkook runs a hand through his chaotic blonde hair, digging the heel of his palm into his temple as if to rid himself of a headache he’s no doubt sporting. Maybe you’re waiting for a better explanation, but he gives none, and you don’t feel as if you have the right to ask why. He’s not your boyfriend, for god’s sake. It’s not like he’s breaking your heart.

Instead, you take a deep breath and say, “Okay.”

“Okay.” It’s all that he says in return.

So then why does it feel like he is?

When Jungkook had promised that if your fling with him ended you would go back to being untainted best friends, he was apparently lying.

A part of you can’t believe the sheer nerve of him to ghost you in his traditional fuckboy ways, and yet he does. You suppose not entirely, at the very least. Part of it ends up with you being even more vexed by his sudden shift in emotion, and the tangible tension that rises between the two of you should have been dealt with properly, yet neither of you do anything about it, leaving your friendship stagnant and stale for a week. After all, how are you really supposed to go back to “just friends” when you’ve seen his dick one too many times?

You refrain from telling Hoseok, if only so you don’t have to hear him tell you he told you so ━ but you also decide to give Yukhei that one chance, and so you think Hoseok wouldn’t mind so much anyway.

Admittedly, when Yukhei asks to hang with you at Taehyung’s eventual party, you aren’t entirely too keen, but you accept it if only because you heard Jungkook will be there too. For the majority of the night, you don’t see the boy, and you spend the hours cozying up with Yukhei in a conversation that dulls you. As it would appear, it seems to bore Yukhei too, but you only notice that when he starts touching you on your waist and the small of your back. There’s a moment where he leans his head close enough to yours that you realize he’s trying to kiss you, resulting in an awkward encounter in which you push him away, palms on his chest.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. The answer is obvious enough to you, but you don’t think you should tell him for his own dignity. That, instead, all you can imagine is Jungkook in his place. “Should we get out of here?”

“Y/N. Can I talk to you?”

You’re both fortunate yet horrified when you hear Jungkook’s voice. He’s standing just behind you, his own stare devoid of any emotion, though his brows furrow and his jaw clenches in a signature Jungkook manner that you know means he’s pissed. He hardly acknowledges Yukhei, nodding in his general direction. You don’t remember if you leave Yukhei there or if he leaves, or if Jungkook even gives a poor attempt of an excuse to the boy, but you’ve not so much as uttered a single word or let out an exhalation of air, when Jungkook ultimately pulls you off to the side where it’s just you and him once more.

“I’m not sucking your dick in Tae’s grimy bathroom, if that’s what you want,” You scowl once Yukhei is out of earshot. “You’ve lost the privilege that is my mouth.”

“That’s not━” Jungkook shakes his head, exasperated. “That’s not what I want. I just━ I’ll take you home. Please?”

You know the offer is much more than him simply walking you the route to your dorm, which you already know like the back of your hand. Yet, you don’t argue. Truthfully, it’s a relief when Jungkook lugs you out of the party. The entire venture back to your apartment is treacherous, in the way that you’re left sobering up enough to the point that your dizzying thoughts become more coherent. Hoseok is gone for the weekend at least, spending the days with his fiance, so you don’t have to worry about humiliating yourself in front of your roommate when it comes to Jungkook.

You’ve barely made it through your front door when you’re grumbling aloud, “What do you want, Jungkook?”

“I wanna talk,” he says firmly. “About us. About Yukhei.”

“Maybe I don’t want to.” But that’s a lie. Talking to Jungkook, even despite masquerading your annoyance for him, is a blessing in disguise. You’ve missed the idiot, and hearing his voice. “Besides, you told me to give him a chance.”

“And you said you didn’t want to.”

“Maybe I changed my mind.”

“Yeah, you sure seemed like you loved it when he was trying to shove his tongue down your throat,” Jungkook retorts bitterly. “C’mon, Y/N. We both know that’s a lie.”

“You know, you’ve been a real dick lately.”

A sliver of a smirk tugs at Jungkook’s face. “I thought you love dick.”

Clearly, his poor attempt at a joke doesn’t land well with you. “Why do you even care so much if Yukhei and I get together? Stop acting so high and mighty and moral, Jungkook. It’s not like you’re some virgin saint. How many times have I heard you talk about all those girls you’ve fucked? And what was I? Just another notch in your belt this whole time?”

“What?” Jungkook gasps now, as if disbelieving you would ever think such a thing. “No! You’re not just another notch. I would never even think about you that way. And I haven’t had sex with anyone else but you this whole time and I easily could have.”

“Wow! Such a martyr,” You remark dryly. When you speak next, you meet his stare with your own crestfallen gaze. “I just want my best friend back.” Your words hurt him more than you think, but he can’t say he doesn’t deserve it. “You’re the one who tried to kiss me, then suggested we stop whatever it is we’re doing━”

Jungkook flinches. “I know.”

“Then you ignore me for days even though you promised nothing would change━”

“I know,” he says desperately. He closes the distance between the two of you, yearning to reach out and touch you. Instead, he clamps his eyes shut, trying with all his might to focus when the room feels like it’s spinning.

“And then you get mad when Yukhei tries to make a move. It’s like you’re jealous or something!”

“I am.” He can’t take it anymore. The words tumble from his lips in a rush that he hardly bothers to bite back.

“Why?”

“Because━ Because━” He struggles to form his thoughts into words, stumbling over his sentence. Fuck, he’s never like this. Even you can tell. He grits his teeth next. “I lean in to kiss you and you look at me as if I’m out of my mind. I just don’t get it. You don’t want me to kiss you but you let me put my dick in your ass.”

The taut line of your lip quivers as you break. “That was one time and you didn’t even get all the way in!”

“Y/N.” Jungkook hums now. He’s gazing at you a little softly, reaching out to place his hands on your waist. “Look, I know I’ve been an idiot. But lately, when I touch you, I fucking feel so alive and the thought of Yukhei doing anything with you when it isn’t me, who should be with you, makes me want to vomit. And when I wake up in the morning alone, I only want you next to me. And I can’t be the only one feeling that way. If I am, tell me. Right now. Please. I just wanna know why you won’t ever let me kiss you, but you let me do all sorts of things with you. Am I really that repulsive?”

Another moment of silence stifles the room. Jungkook is so close to you now, you can’t help yourself. You reach up to tug at the collar of his shirt, fingers twisting in the material as you lean your forehead out of frustration against his shoulder and he instinctively lets his arms slither around your waist, holding you to him. Then━

“No.”

“What?”

“I only made the rule because I don’t want you to kiss me unless you mean it,” You murmur into his chest. “Like really, really mean it. Like I’m more than just a notch in your belt. Because I want to kiss you so badly, and I’m already in love with you but then I’ll really be in love with you and I don’t want to get my heart broken.”

The anticipation kills you, awaiting his response. You refuse to lift your head, until you hear him grumble, “You’re so fucking stupid.”

“Me?”

The retort is filled with your typical jestering hostility as you finally look at him. But just as you do so, Jungkook’s reaching out to grasp at your face, rough hands all soft and gentle as they cradle your cheeks, guiding you towards him and smoothing his lips over yours until you melt like putty in his hands.

Kissing Jungkook, you deduce at once, is not at all how you imagined it.

It’s everything and more. You’ve felt his mouth on you before but in much different circumstances. Between your legs, on your throat, down past the valley of your breasts ━ and each kiss then had been feral, sloppy, rough. Now, it’s sweet and tender, the feeling of his lips as soft as how he makes your heart feel. And the butterflies━ god, the butterflies.

Impatient hands tug and pull at one another until you’ve both stumbled into your room and onto your bed. He’s clambered over top of you, lips struggling to not part throughout the whole ordeal, until he’s wedged himself between your thighs.

Only then does Jungkook part from you just enough in the next moment, lips brushing against yours, as he whispers ardently, “I mean it.”

Then he’s kissing the corner of your lips down to the underside of your jaw, his mouth grazing along your skin in a feathery touch. His hands help you shed your shirt, and the bra underneath. “I mean it when I kiss you here.”

Then he drops his head to your neck, kissing at the base of your throat, before nipping at it lightly. “And here.”

Your hands come to thread in his hair, tugging at the roots. He burrows his face lastly in your chest, snatching the nipple of one of your breasts between his teeth. “Here…”

You’re so soft and supple beneath his hands, all his to love and explore.

“I want you, all of you,” he mumbles. “Only you.”

“Oh, Koo…”

A pretty moan tumbles from your mouth, and he could nearly cry. He had surely thought you were far past the point of enraged, far past the point of pensive words shaped in a heartfelt apology to bring you back to him. But then hearing you rasp his name ━ the little cute nickname that only you call him ━ makes him so goddamn remorseful.

He smothers your lips with his once more, groaning into your mouth. “I’m such a fucking dick. I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that,” You whine.

“I’m sorry,” he laments. He bites at your lower lip, suckling against it. “Please let me make it up to you.”

“You already have.”

“But I’ve been such a shitty friend,” he groans. It’s hard to focus when he’s pressing his hips against yours, the forming bulge in his pants straining against the inside of your thigh. “I should’ve known when to stop. I shouldn’t have even suggested the whole thing in the first place, because then I wouldn’t have messed us all up.”

“Jungkook,” Your grip tightens in his hair. “Jungkook━ I want you so bad. Just wanna be yours.”

“Yeah?” His breath is warm as it fans against your neck. You rub your core eagerly against him, throbbing pussy so close to making contact with his dick.

“Yeah,” You mewl.

“What do you want from me?”

“You. Wanna feel your dick in me, please,” Your fingers tug at the top of his jeans, prodding at the muscles on his abdomen. “In my mouth. Can make you feel better, Koo, I promise. Just wanna be your good girl.”

“Mmm, I like the sound of that.”

He lets you push him until he’s on his back and you’re straddling his hips. Your limbs entangle with his as you shed the rest of your clothes, your own hands wandering up and down the front of his body after he’s tossed his shirt onto the floor. Then he watches as you shimmy your way down his body. You’re so zealous in pleasing him, wrapping your hand around the base of his dick, head angry and red, dribbling pearly beads of precum down the shaft and over the bulging vein that lines it. You run your thumb over the tip and down, spreading the sticky fluid over him. He grunts in response, nearly jolting at your touch, as his head drops back against his shoulders.

“Oh, fuck,” he growls.

You pump him slowly, taking you time as your closed fist glides up and down his length. He shudders each time your hand reaches the base, and becomes so carried away with your leisure teasing that his eyes are screwed shut and misses the way you dip down to kiss at the tip of his cock. His eyes immediately flutter open, a flustered expression painting his face. You lap again at the head, saltiness coating your tongue, and you let out a simpering moan that has him quivering. And when you wrap your mouth entirely around his cock, sinking down along his length, he swears he’s about to fall apart. Your eyes flicker upward to meet him and the moment they lock, so sexy and dark, he has to look away for fear of busting right then and there. He reclines back against the bed once more, his hand flying out to grab at your hair.

“You’re so good to me, baby,” he rasps.

He can feel the curve of your lips against his cock as you suck him off. You do so well, too. Puffing your cheeks out, taking as much of him as you can until it feels as if he’s hitting the back of your throat. Then, you’ll suck at the tip of his cock, tongue swirling rapidly around, as your fist rubs his shaft. It’s a beautiful mix, one that inches him closer and closer to his high, and each time you switch he has to hold it together to not let go so soon. He wants to enjoy it, needs to bask in it. Your pretty mouth doing such sinful things, making him feel as if he were in heaven.

“Shit━” His hips jut forward to meet with your mouth, accidentally hitting the back of your throat without warning. You gag a little, but don’t pull away, and when he apologizes to you hastily, you only moan in response. A thought pops into his head that has him beckon aloud, “Will you be a good girl and let me fuck your mouth? Huh, baby?”

You hum in approval, eyes shimmering with glee.

So, he plants both hands in your hair, grabs at the sides of your head, and as you hollow out your cheeks, he bucks into your mouth. He does it again and again, listening to your crescendoing mewls of delight, forming a sticky mess of drool and cum that spills onto your chin.

“God, you’re so good,” Jungkook grunts. He’s a complete wreck, eyes screwing shut, blonde tresses spilling into his lashes. The muscles in his abdomen twitch with each sharp inhale of air he takes, so mesmerized by the shape of your pretty mouth around his dick, like you were made for him. “Such a good girl, huh?”

He fucks himself into your mouth roughly, frantically. Tears start to prick at your eyes from holding your breath, yet you keep yourself together just a little longer for him, lashes fluttering shut tightly.

“All mine too,” Jungkook hisses. “Wouldn’t let Yukhei do this to you, would you? Fuck, I’m━”

With your head left immobile stuck in his grasp, you hum in disapproval instead. You know he’s close when you start to hear him panting breathily. When he cums, it’s with a fractured whine and in short hot bursts onto your tongue and down your throat. You swallow as much as you can and, when he parts from you with a resonating lewd pop, you wipe away with your knuckles at the rest of his cum leaking out of the corner of your mouth and onto your chin. Dark hooded eyes meet with yours, a mischievous glint captivating them. You crawl over to him, straddling his hips once more, chasing his mouth with yours. Your own lips are so wet, coated in saliva and cum, bruised plump, but yet you’re smiling so innocently past the way he can taste himself on his tongue.

A dazed thought pops into your head that has you murmuring wistfully against him, “Say it again. I like hearing you call me baby.”

“Hmm? What about when I call you my good girl?” Jungkook nips at your lips. He grasps at your waist, flipping you over until you’re on your back beneath him. “You treat me so well, baby; you’re my only girl, you know that.”

A contented sigh sounds from you as you rut your hips in thinning desperation to meet his, so close to rubbing against his dick nestled against his thigh. He licks at his fingers hastily, reaching between the two of you to press against your clit, rubbing leisurely at the soft bundle of nerves. He’s learned how to navigate your body after months of supposed emotionless fucking, but now? Now, he felt as if his heart may just burst through his chest. Every reaction you make to his every touch ━ the needy plea to have him make you his, call you baby ━ makes him want to see more, and more.

“Am I?” You ask hoarsely. He grasps at his dick, guiding his tip to your core, so slick and wet, glistening with your own arousal. As he pushes himself in with a hiss, he watches as you contort beneath him. “Nnngh, Jungkook━”

“Fuuck,” he groans. He sinks into you, spreading your thighs further and further apart, until his hips make contact with yours. His mouth attacks yours with a feverish passion, the rumble of his moans and your whimpers muffling against one another. Then, he remembers to answer your awaiting question, barely audible between the way his tongue lavs at yours. “You are. I’m so fucking in love with you. But I don’t deserve you.”

Your hands tug impatiently at his hair. “Stop saying that.”

“But it’s true,” he hums. He’s quick to start rutting at your hips in a steady yet agonizing pace, dick burrowing into your pussy as your walls throb and shake. He can’t help but watch, mesmerized as always by the way his length slips past your folds and disappears into you. Again, and again, and again, so lewdly destroying your pretty cunt. “Just want Yukhei to touch you all over instead, don’t you?”

“No,” You croak.

You spread your thighs instinctively wider apart, allowing him to sink even further into you until it feels as if he’s hitting you so far in your stomach. Each roll of his hips is punctuated by the crude noise of skin against skin, sending you spiralling.

“Want him to do all sorts of dirty things to you, huh?”

“N-No. Fuck, Jungkook━ Harder, please━”

“That’s what you said,” Jungkook retorts. Still, he listens to your pleas, snapping his hips into yours roughly enough to send you jolting back on the bed. His hands start to roam your body, pinching at your hips, then grasping ferociously at one of your breasts. “Want him to fuck you in his car, right?” His palm feels like fire as it slides up past your collarbones to your throat. “Want him to choke you.”

His hand comes to wrap around the underside of your jaw on your throat, thumb and index finger pressing against the pressure points there. He squeezes, though with barely any force, just enough to feel your rapid pulse beneath his digits in a way that makes you so suddenly hyper aware of everything he’s doing to you. Cock stretching you wide, palm heavy around your throat, mouth folding over yours. So caught up in the overwhelming sensations you’re feeling, you can’t tell if he’s genuinely upset with himself, though you suspect part of him is. You can sense it in the way he clings to you a little tighter, can see it laced within his dazzling pupils.

Jungkook huffs, hair flopping into his eyes as he grits his teeth and ruts his hips faster into you if only to see more of your pretty little reactions. Your jaw unhinges at the feeling, head falling back onto the pillows. “He could probably treat you nicer too.”

You shake your head wildly, fingers digging into the skin on his shoulders. “Just want you, Koo.”

“Still?” he asks. His grip on your neck fastens a little more, pure euphoria riddling all your senses and making you writhe beneath him. “God, you’re such a dumb little slut, aren’t you?”

You nod in your groggy exhaustion, the familiar burn coiling in your stomach, making your toes curl.

Jungkook feels your own high approach. Your walls are clenched so tightly around him, he has to sputter for air. “Could he make you feel like this?”

“No, Koo,” You whine. “Only you.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook growls. “Good girl. Gonna cum around my dick like the good little slut you are?”

Your hips ricochet upwards to meet his, relentless pounding into your core. “Please, please━”

Jungkook quickens his pace until you’ve deteriorated into absolute shambles, whimpering his name after each thrust. You tumble towards your high, cuming around his length as he burrows it into you again and again, and all he can think is mine, mine, mine. As you unravel beneath him, he slides his hand off of your throat and slithers it underneath you and around your waist, hoisting you slightly enough off the bed so that he can reach his own orgasm. He’s a little more frantic now, sloppy and restless as he pummels into you.

“Shit, baby━” he cries out. “Oh, fuck, you’re so good━”

As you come down from your high enough, you somehow manage to murmur drowsily, “Cum in me, Koo. Wanna feel it.”

You grab at his face, pulling him down to catch his lips on yours, and the thought is so tempting he can’t refuse. He gets so lost in your lips, cuming with one final slam of his hips into yours and a chorus of curses mingling with your name in whimpers. He rides out both of your highs with a few half-hearted thrusts, more concerned with kissing you in useless open-mouthed kisses as your own mouth parts with one last weary moan while he fills you up.

When he’s spent, he collapses against your chest, and you collapse onto the bed. It’s quiet long enough for the both of you to calm the shrill beat of your hearts when you feel Jungkook stir, moving to part from you, pulling his dick from your swollen pussy and planting a lingering peck on your cheek. He disappears momentarily but returns a few seconds later, towel in hand which he uses to wipe at your core now leaking with his cum and your heart croons at all his tender touches.

It makes you realize all at once that, god, yes, you’re so in love with your idiot best friend and he’s so in love with you.

“Jungkook.”

He turns to look at you, an adoring smile dancing upon his lips when he sees your own radiant beaming face. You beckon him over and he relents, letting you pull him into your arms. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck as he wraps his own arms around you to tug you closer to his side. As your fingers come to rake through his sweaty hair, he cranes his neck to follow your hand and hear him coo against your neck, “That feels so good.”

A sudden thought crosses your mind that has you smirking smally to yourself. “Are we… Are we cuddling? Jungkook, I thought you didn’t like cuddling. Said it was, and I quote, sentimental bullshit.”

“I never liked it because it wasn’t with you. Didn’t wanna waste my time on someone that wasn’t you,” Jungkook hums, matter-of-fact. You can tell he’s a little embarrassed at the way you so casually taunt him about such an obvious fact, though he’s fortunate you can’t see him smiling like a complete fool. “And I wanna do all that sentimental bullshit with only you. Now, shush━” He scolds you playfully. “M’so tired and I just wanna hold you tight.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Your heart leaps in your chest. “Just promise me one thing?”

It’s only then that he lifts his sleepy gaze to find yours, apprehensive of any potentially looming severity in your words. “Anything.”

Instead, all he can find is the way you trace your finger along the details of his face, from his nose, to his cheekbones, down to the freckle under his lip with the hand that sports your friendship bracelet. “In the morning, when we wake up, you’ll still be here to hold me tight. And every other morning after that.”

His smile widens even more, if that was even possible. “Wouldn’t want it any other way. But━”

“But?”

“On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

His eyes sparkle cheekily. “Kiss me.”

So, you do, again and again and again; and Jungkook thinks, yeah, he certainly can get used to this.

It takes you a month to cave in to Jungkook’s incessant pleas to fuck you to his sex playlist. You do it mostly to humour him, though part of you is a little bit intrigued at the thought.

Stowed away in his room, he eats you out to the choruses of sultry The Weeknd and raunchy Ariana Grande songs, fucks you to the likes of the Neighbourhood and Kim Petras while you’re on all fours, and you’re only half-paying attention to the music until you hear it. Admittedly, you almost completely miss it but you blame Jungkook and the way he’s making you currently feel, sprawled out beneath him, chests pressed flush against one another in a sweaty, sticky mess, breathy and glorious moans of your name filling your ears when━

“I had no choice but to hear you. You stated your case time and again━”

The dulcet chime of Alanis Morissette thrums about the room, a complete and utter shift in contrast in the atmosphere that has you immediately pausing.

“Jungkook.” But he knows what you set out to say even before you do, judging by the tone in your voice and the stifling smirk on his face. You gawk at him, biting at your lip to hide your laughter but you fail miserably. “You weren’t joking?”

He shrugs innocently, leaving you just as dumbfounded as you were two seconds ago. Instead, he says, “Gotta do what I promised then, don’t I?”

You quirk a brow. “What was that exactly?”

“Gotta give you the best orgasm of your life.”

“If you can do that to cheesy 90s pop, I’ll have your actual babies, Jungkook.” The effort is endearing and impressive, to say the least.

A roll of your eyes is met with a taunting roll of his hips into yours that wipes the jest off your face immediately. He grins like a madman, uttering a little stupidly, and a little ardently, “Say no more.”

Because, all things considered and joking aside, he wants it with you ━ the dazed daydreamy talk of a future together and kids, friendship bracelets, and cuddles in the morning. Because you mean the world to him and more. Because you’re his best friend, and he’s so madly in love with you.

Because he wants it all with you.

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⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

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[watchmegetobsessed]

THE DEAL

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

pairing: Harry X Reader

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

word count: 11.8k

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you broke that rule.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you tried it?”

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

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

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

“You know I never do that!”

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

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

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

“Alright. And we can end it anytime?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Um, whose is this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No! I’m… I just—We…”

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

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

“When I couldn’t go, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shit!” you curse under your breath.

“What?” Harry asks, pausing the show.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I mean… you’re not wrong,” you sigh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You motherfu—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Obviously,” you scoff.

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

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

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

“Girl, you are totally dating Harry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, thank you!” you chuckle softly.

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

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

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

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

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

“Thought you went for a refill?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then he finally breaks his silence.

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

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

“No, take that back!” you whine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But why does it hurt so badly then?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not mad at the whole world!”

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

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

“Who else then?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course.”

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

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

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

“Yes,” you whisper truthfully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Girlfriend?” he asks quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Absolutely.”

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

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

[luxeavenger]

Im having a shit day and its only 10 AM. You dont by chance have a Backstage Pass headcanon that you want to throw out in the universe, do you? Maybe something a little Steve-centric because I have a fucking soft spot for him.

hi sweetie! i'm sorry it took me so long to answer this. i've been struggling with writer's block lately. and i'm sorry you had a crummy day. i really hope things have improved for you! <3

uhhmmmm... how about a captain america headcanon?

when steve shows him an artist's rendering of his captain america costume, bucky howls with laughter

steve spends all three fittings wondering what the fuck he'd signed up for

steve's just trying to give bucky the peace of mind of knowing he wont be getting his ass shot off

steve knows if he insists on being deployed for the remainder of his tour, bucky will be right there beside him with his stupid, stubborn, one-arm-having self

so steve lets the army make him into their pet propaganda machine, while he counts the weeks until he's free

at least the shield is cool

bucky says he comes to the fittings so he can properly tease steve about it later

but he actually comes to the fittings because he knows steve isn't super crazy about the whole captain america thing. bucky feels responsible for steve being saddled with this thing in the first place, so he's determined to keep steve company and never leaves his best friend's side

it's during these fittings is that steve starts to notice the way bucky looks at him when he thinks steve isn't looking

but steve is always looking at bucky

bucky's face wears a dark, possessive look, that makes heat roil in steve's guts

there's a part of steve that he's been compartmentalizing since they were teenagers, it's a little like lust, and a lot like love, and that look in bucky's eyes—the naked WANT steve sees reflected in the mirror—brings that barely suppressed part of him SCREAMING back to the surface

steve is scheduled on a tour around the states, a cadre of uso girls, soldiers, recruiters, and dozens of other people in tow

bucky isn't part of the tour, but he'll be damned if he's going to let steve do this alone either, so he follows the dog and pony show around in a beat up old pick up truck he bought for six hundred bucks cash, simply because the bed is long enough for bucky to stretch out and sleep

steve does all the things the army told him to do, recites all the lines they wrote for him, shakes all the hands, kisses all the babies, and smiles at all the swooning women—all while counting the days until he and bucky are free again

steve has no way of knowing that he and bucky would be a couple no more than six months down the road, or that there would never be so much as a drop of jealousy between them because their relationship was beyond rock-solid

he doesn't know any of that now, so when steve sees a few of the uso girls fawning over bucky, possessiveness kicks his heart into overdrive,and the green acid of jealousy chews angrily at his innards

bucky isn't encouraging them at all, but when he looks up and meets steve's eyes, he feels guilty anyway, shouldering past the women to offer steve the six pack of guinness he'd picked up earlier

the smile that curls over bucky's lips is just for steve, and just like that—the jealousy and possessiveness is gone. it's replaced with an explosion of butterflies fluttering through steve's stomach

the girls stand there with sour looks on their faces while steve and bucky pile into the cab of the truck and drive off

the boys don't go far, just to the outskirts of town. steve has a nine o'clock curfew, bucky thinks it's ridiculous for a grown-ass man to have such an early curfew, but it's one more thing about steve's new life that makes bucky feel guilty, so he bites his tongue

that thing between them—the thing that's a little like lust, and a lot like love—seems almost palpable when it's dark and quiet like this, when they're sharing the same air, with their superhuman heat seeping through each other's clothes, their shoulders bumping together when they bring their beers to their lips

that feeling becomes more and more real, and more difficult to ignore each time they're alone together

they sit and watch the stars come out in silence for awhile, drinking their beers and listening to mix tapes in the outdated deck of the ancient truck. it was prone to eat cassettes as often as it played them, so it was like playing russian roulette with their music

"hey pip-squeak?" bucky softly breathes into the silence, "you know i'm here for you, right? just like always."

steve nods, and polishes off his beer before speaking, "where are we gonna go, buck?" he can't hide the hope that bleeds into his voice, so he doesn't even try

these two brooklyn-born boys have never been very far from home, nor have they ever tasted much freedom

without knowing what the other is thinking, they sit, both of them picturing a nomadic life, wandering the earth, and seeing as much of it as they possibly could for as long as they possibly could

bucky shrugs, "how ‘bout california?"

steve nods slowly

it seems like a good place to start

backstage pass masterlist

#mail opened 📬 #backstage pass headcanon #backstage pass series #backstage pass!steve #backstage pass!bucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #backstage pass!captain america #stucky #backstage pass: before they were stars #how the man became the myth

[littlemisslipbalm]

“you make me so angry sometimes”

idk if this gif makes sense, but i feel like it will if you read the story, it just gives me that vibe. 

A one shot I cooked up idk, it’s about Harry and a makeup artist on DWD, it’s quite angsty, idk how that happened, it’s also very long, idk how that happened either, maybe i do a part 2, maybe i don’t idk lmk. Feedback is appreciated, not proofread. REBLOGS help writers tremendously and i love reading whatever you write in the tags its my favorite thing!! Love yall and Merry Christmas!

Word Count: 17.7k | Warnings: ENEMIES to LOVERS! swearing, angst!, some anxiety -like self-doubt, yn being mean to harry kind of a lot, i dont remember, nothing too crazy, Nick Kroll?, lots of conversation

-

When she pictured herself as a makeup artist in Los Angeles, she hadn’t pictured exactly what she was doing right now.

She had expected doing gorgeous makeup for gorgeous actresses or doing wildly fun stuff like in Euphoria. And because of that she had worked her ass off to get where she was today. She had practiced for hours, worked countless hours for free, and networked to the cows came fucking home.

So why the fuck was she using tattoo-strength concealer to cover up the maybe 60 tattoos some asshole musician turned actor had all over?

Don’t Worry Darling was her first major film to work on so she couldn’t complain. She was happy to simply be there. Well she had been. The first day she had showed up 15 minutes early and had worn her favorite power suit she had. It was dark navy with a white lace long sleeve turtleneck underneath. She hoped to look fun but professional.

Hollywood was all about impressions, especially first ones, even when you’re the makeup artist. She had quickly learned that she was one of six makeup artists. One of them being the friend who had helped her get the job, Angie. Angie was like her surrogate mother in Los Angeles that she had met on her first film job for something much less high profile than Olivia Wilde’s second directing project. Her braided grey hair and fabulous jeans had drawn Y/N right in and they had connected instantly.

Since Y/N was deemed the most inexperienced by the head of the makeup department, she was relegated to easier jobs: assisting the other artists on main characters sometimes, mostly dealing with minor characters touch ups (and full make-up if she was lucky), and the job nobody wanted: tattoo coverage.

Harry Styles was one of the leads for the film and besides his minimal acting, everyone knew he was a worldwide rockstar. With the rock and roll life starting off as a popstar life at the ripe age of 16, he had amassed around 60 tattoos in the past decade. Impressive by her standard normally. She usually counted herself as an appreciator of tattoos and their art, finding them similar to makeup and the self expression that came with both forms. Especially since she had a few of her own, but when she walked into Trailer #6 and saw a good amount of Harry’s tattoos, she wanted to murder every artist he’d ever been to.

She had to make an inventory the first day of all of his visible tattoos when he was just wearing boxers. He had been friendly, trying to make conversation, but as the time wore on, they both grew tired and silent. She had to write down the location and a description of every tattoo and as he took off everything but boxers she grew more and more annoyed with his random and dumb tattoos. Some of them were amazing, the eagle, the anchor, the butterfly, and the ferns were probably her favorites. But some of them, she couldn't hold back her rolling eyes and annoyed expressions. The “Big” on his right big toe, a miniscule lock, almost everything on his inner left arm (the packers logo, Pingu, etc.)

She traces at the rose and the ship and then flips his arm out to reveal his inner arm to her gaze. “That is a big fucking bee.”

He snickers, “Y’like it?”

She ignores his question. “For god’s sake, someone is needle happy,” she said as she examined his left arm, taking note of every permanent drawing.

He shrugs his right shoulder, uninhibited by her prodding. “Dunno, beginning to regret some of them.”

“I would hope,” she mutters, scribbling on her paper the various ones she had just seen on his arm. Next was his ribcage ones.

He scoffs, “Oi, it’s not like you haven’t got any.”

“How would you-” She looks at him wide eyed.

“Right…” he takes his right hand and pushes her hair past her ear to reveal three little red line butterflies following the curve of her ear, “There. At least.”

She huffs and knocks his hand away from her. Her hair falling back into its place.

“Maybe some located in a few more intimate places I’m guessing from the red rushing to your cheeks right now.”

“Can you just let me do my job,” she says, not giving in to his teasing or sparing him a glance as she feels his intense gaze on her face. She was studying his left rib cage where a few cool tattoos happened to be.

“You at least have some taste or persuasive artists because not all of these are shit,” she speaks again after just the sound of her pen on the paper filled the trailer.

“Gee, thanks,” he laughs unamused and rolls his large green eyes.

She thought he had some of the biggest eyes she’d ever seen. But she also knew to keep that to herself because he’d either take it as a compliment and think she was noticing him too much or he’d take it as a massive insult and get her fired.

His right hand taps at his thigh, tapping a rhythm she didn’t care to pay any attention too. She just wanted to finish the stupid inventory of the stupid tattoos on this stupid man.

“Take those off,” she says to Harry, looking back at her clipboard again, filling up quickly with her notes.

He stands there, staring at her stubbornly. He was entirely bored with this exercise, especially since his company was some of the worst he’s ever had. She spares him a glance when she doesn’t notice any slipping off of the colorful sweatpants he’s wearing.

She arches a brow at him, her pen tapping impatiently against the paper. “Go on. Can’t imagine you want this to go on longer than it already has.”

He rolls his eyes again, slipping his thumbs into the waistline of the pants and tugging down. Simultaneously, he toes off the dirty vans he seemed to wear everywhere. The fabric pools easily and he steps out of them and discards them on the couch behind him. He’s actually wearing black briefs. She chooses not to notice anything further than that.

“Socks...can stay on,” She tries to say as he begins to peel one off. He stops midway and nods.

She flings his shirt to him, not needing to see his naked torso for another moment, “I know you’ve got some feet and ankle tats, but I also know that you won’t be wearing anything that will expose them. Thank your lucky stars that I don’t have to makeup your feet.”

He catches the shirt easily and slips his arms inside before tugging it quickly over his head and over his expansive shoulders. The ferns disappear out of sight.

“Well then we’re almost done then. Just got the knee ones -”

“And the tiger. That’s gonna be one son of a bitch,” she sighs and examines his legs, not bothering to crouch.

“What the actual fuck dude?” Her tone is exasperate and like she would rather be anywhere else than here.

“I’m sorry?” He sputters, hands on his hips and eyes bewildered.

“Yes. No. Oui. Non. Who are you?” She rubs at her eyes and shakers her head.

“S’a little rude.”

“You’re right,” she semi-rushes out at his serious tone, ready to apologize. When a grin spreads over his face and he chuckles under his breath she really wants to smack him upside the head. He was exhausting. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Thought it was funny at the time. Kind of think it’s even funnier now since it’s got you all mad.” He leans over her shoulder to look at her notes and when she glances at him unhappily he just looks smug.

“Alright,” she finishes the scribble of a description and clicks the end of her pen, “All done. You can get dressed. I’ll see you bright and early for tattoo makeup. It’s gonna take about an hour to do all this, just so you can mentally prepare for that.”

“It was nice to meet you,” he attempts at a friendly and professional farewell. “See you tomorrow…” he trails off as he watches her turn on her heel and walk out of the trailer door swiftly. The door swung shut and bounced a little bit in her wake.

Harry sighed and adjusted his clothes and hair in the mirror. After a moment he shakes his head, an even louder sigh escaping him.

-

“Good morning!” She greets happily, walking into the trailer without a knock. Well-rested and happy at least that she doesn’t have to just inspect a body, she looks around the trailer.

She realizes no one is there and she’s taken aback. First of all, if Harry wasn’t there then he shouldn’t have left his trailer unlocked. And second, he was fucking late, the fucking twat.

She grumbles, setting her coffee on the countertop. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “In through the nose, out through the mouth” she mutters. She knew this was a big opportunity and having a big star like Harry in her corner could make her career. She needed them to get off on a better foot today.

“Good form, I’d say relax the shoulders a little more,” the door swings open carrying the California twang-British accent that she would soon become all too accustomed to.

Harry points at her shoulders and narrows his eyes regarding her in the trailer. She offers a strained smile through the mirror and Harry sets down his personal things on the couch.  

“Alright, well let’s get started shall we,” she smiles and turns to him, gesturing to the swivel chair next to her.

He nods, a twinkle in his eye as he regards her. He’s unsure of the tone and attitude she’s giving him today. She had been feisty yesterday, cordial at times, but mostly biting and witty. He had liked it. It had made the whole ordeal bearable whereas now she seemed to be laying it on a little thick.

“Just your hands and neck today,” she says, pulling out the makeup materials needed and a checklist of the tattoos she needed to make sure were invisible.

“Should only take..a little under an hour today. Just gonna remind you now though, other days we won’t be so lucky.”

Harry chuckles under his breath and rolls his head around his shoulders before sitting in the chair. “Were you tired yesterday?” He inquires.

“Why do you ask?” She throws a glance over her shoulder at Harry. He’s begun slipping off his sweatshirt and yawns as he does it.

“You seem different from yesterday and I’m just wondering which one is the real you.”

She continues working about the room and rolls her eyes to herself, “I’m always the real me. I come no other way, but this morning I woke up and thought ‘this is the job you’ve fucking wanted for ages, so stop being such a bitch so you don’t get fired, you prick’.” She pauses and turns to face Harry. “The ‘you prick’ was directed at me, that was still part of my thought,” she adds.

He throws his head back and laughs. Then he nods, still laughing lightly, “I get that. Sometimes I’m just so in my head and yesterday I was just so fuckin’ bored. Sorry if I got on your nerves.”

“Don’t mention it.” She waves her hand at him nonchalantly.  

Then she moves to inspect his hands and notices the lack of rings, unlike yesterday when she had to make him take them off.

“You have amazing cuticles,” she notices and mentions without any pretences. Harry mutters his thanks, pursing his lips as he watches her work.

She stops her inspection and places the clipboard on the countertop in front of them.

“Could you take your necklaces off? I need to cover up half of the swallows and the years, for when you unbutton your shirt a bit.”

He wets his lips and nods, hands going to fiddle with the clasps behind his neck. He slips off one of the necklaces with ease, a yellow eye beaded necklace that he lays gently on the countertop next to the clipboard. Then he takes his cross and pulls it over his head, no clasp needed.

“Could I put some music on?” Harry asks after five minutes of Y/N working in silence and Harry only being able to stare either at himself, her work, or nowhere.

“I can,” she stops her work for a moment, “Can’t have you messing up the makeup before it sets. Otherwise I’d have to kill you.” Harry can’t be sure if she’s joking or not. Therefore, he was intent on not messing it up.

“Any requests?” She stands at the counter now, instead of seated on a stool working on Harry's left hand.

He shrugs, like he hasn’t got the faintest idea about good music. She refrains from rolling her eyes once again because she feels herself in a test. She wets her lips, sifting through different things in her Spotify and then lands on her playlist titled “it’s your song” named after Elton John’s song. It had some other musicians, a mix of Queen, Bowie, and more and she was sure she would pass the test.

She presses shuffle and She’s Always A Woman by Billy Joel begins to play over her laptop. Harry nods pleased and she wants to shake her head at him.

She can’t hold back the scoff though after a moment of going back to finishing his hand.

“What?” His British accent thickens with his annoyance growing.

“Nothing,” she chirps, intently putting the final touches on his wrist.

“Seriously. What?”

She stands and sets down the makeup. “Can you unbutton your shirt?” She made a note to herself that from now on she’d have to have him take his shirt off before setting to work because if his hands got messed up she’d have to start over. Thankfully he was already wearing a button up this morning.

He stares at her, offering no movement, just inquisitively waiting for her to respond to his original question.

She shuts her eyes, taking another deep breath and then bites at her lower lip. “It’s just...you’re so easy to read.” She fears adding anything else and moves towards him with the makeup hoping to encourage him to unbutton his shirt.  

His right hand deftly pulls at the buttons as he regards her. His eyes are intent on her, she can see him clearly calculating her. Her green paisley button up tucked up into the back of her bra leaving a splay of her stomach. The semi-balloon sleeves cinched at the wrists leading to her slightly ringed hands. The oversized blue jeans that have no holes, just a tiny patch right next to the left pocket. The frayed ends of the pants laying over her rather pristine white old skool vans.

The Boxer fades in as she waits for him to finish the unbuttoning of the shirt. He’s still staring at her.

“Am I?” He finally inquires, voice pitched higher like he doesn’t believe her.

She gives him a serious stare and leans over him and adjusts the collar of his shirt. She adds paper towels to avoid makeup on his clothes.  

“Yes!” She laughs, “And you don’t even think so, which is like...of course.”

He hums, tilting his head back as she sets to work on covering up the swallows. He wiggles his hands that now both rest on the arm chairs.

“I don’t see it.”

“Of course you don’t,” she glances at his face, their eyes meeting for a moment. “You’re Harry Styles. Everyone is in love with this image you created for yourself and it has just enough of your true self that people feel like they really know you, but you also maintain the illusion. So you think you’re this mysteriously amazing, not like the rest guy, but you are just like the rest of them. Obsessed with yourself and rich so you’re deemed eccentric rather than crazy for all the extravagant shit you do. So when you want me to play music and don’t offer any suggestions I know exactly what music I need to play for you to like me.”

“I feel like that last part says more about you than it does me,” he quirks a brow at her, straining his neck to look at her face as she continues to work.

She flushes, his response both better and worse than she expected. She had gotten a little carried away in her response and she had no idea why. She truly wasn’t one to go off on people so easily and especially not with someone she hardly knew, but something about Harry had her on edge. She was just thankful he hadn’t gotten mad at her response, instead he took it in stride. Further proving her point that he was extremely smart and did things purposefully and she saw right through it all.

She grumbles, “It says that all anyone has to do to get close to you is understand the smallest bit about you and you’ll let them in.”

“That is just so completely wrong, Y/N, I hate to break it to you.” It’s Harry rolling his eyes now, unable to move much more of his body as she continues painting on the concealer to remove his tattoos for the movie.

“Fine. Enlighten me on what I got wrong.”

Their argument had all but drowned out their music. They both did love this music and ironically if they would just shut their mouths, they’d probably like each other a lot more.

“Might as well,” he sighs. “First of all, my image is authentic and of course I don’t want to give myself all away. I enjoy my privacy and for everyone to truly know me I’d have to give that up. Which I’m not keen on. So, I regret to inform you but I am the same guy everyone is “in love with”. Second, I know I am a little self-involved, how else would I get here if I wasn’t constantly taking inventory of myself and reevaluating who I am. As a musician, I want to give as much of myself as possible or else it just feels inauthentic. And the extravagant thing, I can’t help that I like nice things and my job has allowed me to afford those things.”

He stops to take a deep breath and she’s working in stunned silence, in disbelief that Harry is even telling her any of this or that he’s spoken that much and so quickly. Wasn’t he notorious for speaking slowly with barely even a sentence worth of actual information. He sounds tired and frustrated, but also, surprisingly, sincere.

He continues, “The music thing. Maybe it was a test, but still it doesn’t mean I give everyone a mile when they say their favorite musicians match up with mine or something. I note that they either did their homework or might be an interesting person to get to know.”

“So which am I?” She widens her eyes.

“Obviously the second even if you’re also making it painfully clear that you don’t like me.”

“You’re smarter than I thought, Harry. I’ll give you that,” she smirks slyly, finishing up the bird coverage now.

He laughs. “Thanks,” he drawls out.

“And I admit that maybe you aren’t as easy to read as I made out, but I think we’re going to have to agree to disagree about the whole being your authentic self. I just don’t buy it. I can see your mind working constantly, you’re not one to just let yourself be free in public. And I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, I’m just saying, you shouldn’t pretend like that’s not what you’re doing.”

Her final thought leaves Harry silent. She pays no attention to his silence or at least she’s actively ignoring it. Instead she tunes back into the music that had gotten them back onto the wrong foot. This was going to be a long few months.

When she’s satisfied with her work, she has them sit there for thirty minutes to give it all time to set before Harry is off to hair and other makeup. They sit there listening to music. Neither of them have spoken again, except instructions from her and Harry’s hums of approval of songs.  

Harry stands up after thirty minutes as she stays behind to pack up some items. Just as he’s about to step out of the door, he turns and calls her name.

“For the record, I don’t think you’re giving me a fair shot. You said yourself that you’re different every day. That every version of you, is you. So I hope you’ll give me the same allowance, every version of me is me. In this trailer, in my music videos, on tv, in interviews, in my free time. It’s all truly me.”

She bites her inner cheek as he ducks his head and exits the trailer, not allowing her any response.

-

“You’re late!”

“Meeting ran over with Nick and Olivia. Sorry,” Harry says as he begins to undress.

It’s the first day she has to cover all of his tattoos. It was going to take forever by all accounts. It had been two weeks since shooting had begun and she had gotten the simple hands and neck down to 45 minutes so she could only dread what his entire body would take.

“It’s fine,” she grumbles, knowing there wasn’t really anything else she could say about him coming late from a meeting with the director and producer.

Over the last two weeks, they hadn’t grown any fonder of one another. Not at all. They at least had gotten into a system though and she was grateful for that at least.

They showed up, Harry got in his chair, she set up the music, and they got to work. Harry would practice lines on some days and he’d tell her that before she turned on the music so there were no interruptions. Sometimes they talked about stuff on set or music or she’d give Harry his line when he was trying to be off script and forgot one. She wouldn’t classify it as pleasant, but they weren’t at each other throats like they were originally.

Trailer 6 had gotten a little homier as the weeks went by, too. Harry began leaving some of his stuff there and he started putting up silly drawings he would make while on set or polaroids people had taken with him while he was there. He tacked up napkins of restaurants that catered the set and wrote funny jokes and quotes on post it notes. His personal assistants sometimes brought in snacks while Y/N was still working and Harry always offered her some. They were usually healthy, but sometimes she’d eat some. Jeff, his manager, had also stopped by on occasion during his tattoo touch-ups that had become a thing after shooting days had grown longer.

On first meeting, Jeff had said, “Y/N? Harry mentioned you.”

She had turned to Harry with an arched brow and he had shrugged. When she looked back at Jeff she didn’t see Harry give Jeff one of the deadliest looks he could muster. She had grimaced and said “Well we spend enough time together for him to know my name. So thank god for that at least.”

They had all laughed and she had gotten back to work on Harry’s wrist.

Today, she needed Harry in his shorts. It was the first day of shooting where his character would be only in his boxers so she had to cover up all his visible tattoos. Olivia had told the makeup department they actually had to cover up his feet tattoos as well. She wanted him sockless in the scene and Y/N had groaned immediately when she made it to the trailer and Harry wasn’t already there.

“But please, for the sake of my job, strip, dude.” She says, arms crossed over her chest and leaning against the counter as she watched Harry set his things down. Her soft green striped cardigan is open, exposing the white tank top sitting underneath. Her bright green shorts hang loose on her, cinched at the waist and folded over once. Her white high top nike’s tap impatiently on the floor, waiting for Harry to get moving.

He nodded, truly feeling sorry for his tardiness, knowing today was a long day. He was anxious and tired. Acting was a different experience to music and he just was really trying his best.

As he began to take off his shirt, he laughed. His arms pulled the shirt over his head and when it popped out from beneath it, he repeated, “Strip, dude,” attempting to mimic her American accent.

He had practiced his American accent in front of her while running lines, but it had a 50’s drawl to it. His acting coach had been drilling him for weeks before shooting and he still liked to practice. The accent he had just down was far off from that and far off from hers too.

“Do not,” she warned.

“What?” He asks innocently and flutters his eyelashes.

She knows his game by now and she knows she should just ignore him. She knows this after fourteen days. She knows this after hours with him. She knows this, but then she’s opening her mouth and playing into his teases.

“Sorry, what’s a word you would know? Mate?” She tries for a British accent with the last word, knowing she can’t win this.

Harry snickers and scratches at his nose with his index finger before starting on taking off his pants. “You’re so Californian.”

“Thank you,” she chirps, moving to sit beside him now that he had settled.

“I like your shorts,” he muses, crossing his legs, likely a little cold.

She glances down at her cotton shorts that showed more of her thighs when she sat for a moment before returning her gaze to his left arm. The longest task of the day was this damn arm.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, “Wanted to be comfortable today. Knew it was gonna be long.”

A smile bubbles onto his face, his pink lips parting to reveal his shiny white teeth behind them. “So true.”

The music is low today. She had chosen Joni Mitchel’s Blue album for the first pick of the day. She had quickly learned Harry preferred listening to albums in order. It tended to make him less jumpy when the same artist came on multiple times like an album. So when she tried to play just an album one day, she found him more cooperative and less irritable.

After thirty minutes of work, she can’t stop noticing how shivery Harry is. It was late October in LA, so it was still warm, but admittedly the mornings could be a little chilly. His shivering was concerning for many reasons. Mainly he was messing up her work and concentration, but she also didn’t want him to get sick or something.

“Do you want me to see if they have a blanket and slippers or something? You look like you’re turning blue.”

Harry turns his attention to her. He had been reading over the script for today again. “That’d be great. I can call…” He trails off trying to think of the name of one of his assistants, but apparently he’s too scatterbrained for it. She assumed it was the hypothermia traveling to his brain already.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll walkie someone.” She says as she grabs the walkie talkie, flicking to the personal assistants channel.

“Hey,” she chirps happily. Harry noted how she talked to other people. So sweet, yet sincere. With him, it was serious and sincere but more biting, callous at times. Less so lately, but she definitely was sharper with him. He didn’t know if it even bothered him anymore. She was engaging if nothing else.

“Is someone free to bring two blankets and men’s slippers over to Trailer 6? I’ve got a naked Jack and I don’t want him freezing before I’m done covering up his tattoos.” She takes her finger off the talking button and glances sideways at him, “Who knows, maybe that would improve his acting. Y’know on second-thought-”

“Alright, alright,” Harry tries to grab for the walkie talkie, but she turns from him holding a finger up signalling him to wait as she listens for a response.

Someone says a simple “On it” and she turns off the walkie talkie and gets back to work.

“I took my finger off the speaker before I said the thing about your acting. Relax, Harry.” She says when he’s still glaring at her. “Just love to see you squirm.”

He shakes out his short chestnut hair, some of it falling over his forehead. Instinctively, she reaches up without even looking and smooths it back. Like she was tucking her own hair out of her eyes, but instead it was Harry’s. She decided to say nothing and was relieved when Harry didn’t say anything either.

She finishes his forearm and moves to his outer upper arm. The rose holds her attention when the PA knocks on the door and she has to race to get it. Nothing could stop her from moving on this work. It was already an hour in and she wanted to scream.

She swings open the door and she wants to die. It was Autumn. Her least favorite PA, of course. She was insufferable and obsessed with Harry. Which was not why Y/N found Autumn insufferable. There were so many more reasons. So many. But that particular character flaw didn’t help her case either. Y/N tried to just take the blankets and slippers from Autumn, but the woman insisted that she come in.

“I’ve got it,” Y/N says.

“No, don’t want you to get makeup on anything,” Autumn’s saccharine voice grinds at her ears and she contemplates cutting them off.

Harry sat in his chair, legs crossed, nodding along to the music, his script discarded on the counter in front of him.

“Hi Harry!” Autumn practically yells, walking right up to him.

Y/N takes a deep breath at the door, letting it swing shut. She bites her lower lip as an attempt to bite her tongue as she walks back to her set-up. The set-up Autumn was conveniently blocking.

“Hello, Autumn,” Harry says kindly, making eye contact with her. “How’re you today?”

“So great! So great! Thanks for asking. How are you?” She points a finger at him like she might poke him and Harry squirms away from her a bit. She, of course, doesn’t notice this.

“Well, thanks.” His eyes flicker to Y/N, who is standing behind Autumn, hands on her hips and attempting not to tap her foot. His tone is clearly dismissive, but Autumn must ignore it. Y/N knows Autumn isn’t as helpless as she tries to come off.

Autumn asks, “Where do you want these?”, gesturing to the two blankets and slippers stacked on top.

“Just on the counter is fine, thanks,” Harry says.

Autumn does as he says and then stands there with baited breath. Y/N’s not sure what she’s expecting. For Harry to ask for her hand in marriage or something? But he just glances between the two women. His own foot begins wiggling in impatience.

“Busy day,” He attempts at dismissing her once again - with kindness.

“Oh my gosh, totally!” Autumn gushes, starting to go off on all of the tasks she has to do. She stands so close to Harry, Y/N genuinely thinks she’s going to sit in his lap. Y/N stares up to the ceiling, begging god or whoever to end her misery right there and then.

Harry sees Y/N’s expression and tries to maintain the neutral expression he’s had for the entirely too long interaction. A smile threatens at his rosey lips that had chapped from the morning air.

“Right, well,” he cuts off Autumn, “Y/N needs to get back to tattoo coverage, I think. So...have a nice day.”

Autumn’s eyes widen like she forgot that there was anyone else in the room and steps back from Harry. Y/N nods, a grimace clear on her face. Autumn gives her the same small she used to get from the popular girls in high school when she happened to be talking to their cool guy friend that they wanted to be more than friends with. Sickeningly sweet and completely fake. She could see the contempt in Autumn’s eyes that swirled just beneath the surface of her perfectly outlined green-ish eyes.

“Okay! You too, Harry!” She begins walking to the door and Y/N takes her seat again, closing her eyes and counting to ten. “And Y/N,” Autumn adds as an afterthought.

“Oh my fucking god,” Y/N sighs, her hands going to rub over her face and through her hair. “That was exhausting. Jesus Christ.”

“What? She’s nice. Maybe a little clueless,” Harry counters. “But she was so nice,” he confirms again, seemingly trying to convince himself of it as well.  

She grabs the slippers and slips them on the ground so Harry can put them on easily. Then one of the blankets that she drapes over Harry’s bottom half. He smiles at the gesture, a ‘thank you’ said in a whisper.

“Please, she knows what she’s doing,” Y/N scoffs, “And she’s obsessed with you!” She grabs the concealer to get back to work, “She was all over you and never took her eyes off of your body. It was like she wanted to touch you or something. It was icky.”

“You touch me,” Harry adds cheekily, adjusting beneath the warm blanket.

She laughs, a smile gracing her lips as she gives Harry a look. He was clever.

“It’s my job to touch you, Harry.”

Harry had really tried to not laugh, but it was just so funny. They both snicker, their eyes meeting for a moment longer than usual.

“Speaking of my job,” she adds after controlling her laughter, “Does she not realize just how long it takes to cover all of your bloody tattoos with this shit to make it look like you’re a pristine skinned 50’s psycho killer?”

She finishes the rose coverup and moves to the ship. Harry nods solemnly.

“It’s true...And it doesn’t help that you’re terrible at it, so it takes a thousand years longer than it should.” He adds, laughter overtaking his serious tone at the end.

“Oh my god!” She shrieks in delight, trying not to mess up her work, “That is so rude! I messed up one time - mostly because of you, by the way. And give me a break, this is so not what I thought I’d be doing as a makeup artist for movies.”

He nods again, muttering “Fair, fair.”

They grow silent, enjoying Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, the album that she had queued after Joni’s.

“The body thing, I just learned to ignore it, I think.” Harry mutters, eventually, but it’s thoughtless, like he’s not revealing anything about himself with the statement. But it kind of shocks her. Her eyes widen and she stops her work to stare at his face.

“Harry,” she waits till his eyes meet hers, “That’s, like, not normal. Are you serious?”

“I mean, I’m very comfortable with my body, like I haven’t minded the last 45 minutes of sitting practically nude in front of you. And I have plenty of revealing photos out in the world. I just don’t notice staring anymore, it’s not, I don’t think it’s what you’re thinking,” he tries to reassure her. His eyes are intent on hers, full of seriousness that hadn’t been there a few moments ago.

“It’s one thing to be comfortable in your skin and another to be desensitized to objectification,” she insists.

He nods. “I know. Thank you. I would let you know if what she had done had bothered me, so don’t worry. I felt completely safe the whole time.”

“Good,” she nods back and concentrates again. “Good,” she repeats once more under her breath. There had been way too many distractions already today and she wasn’t even done with his arm yet.

As she continues to work up his arm, Harry sings along to some of the songs on Elton’s album. He happily taps his feet to the different beats, now safely tucked in soft fluffy slippers. She would never admit just how amazing it is to be in the same room as Harry’s singing. It was truly special to be less than a foot from him and hear him sing just under the unique voice of Elton - who was someone he actually knew, which was equally as cool.

He hit every note and knew every word. She was impressed. How could she not be when a literal rockstar sat before her? This was the first time she was truly starstruck by her charge, Mr. Harry Styles.

By two hours, they had moved onto an album by Dolly Parton and they were both singing. They strangely had no fights today, maybe some snarky comments from both of them, but no outright mean-spirited words were exchanged.

She stood in front of Harry, finishing up the swallows. She had finished both arms and the birds, all she had left was moving down his body. Up next, the butterfly.

“I love this tattoo,” she mumbles, twisting Harry’s standing body to face her and taking her seat again. This left her eye to eye with the butterfly on his stomach.

He makes a surprised face and raises his recently plucked eyebrow at his counterpart. “Oh really?”

“Don’t act so surprised. I told you day one that not all of them are rubbish and honestly they’re all pretty cool. I just was so annoyed that I had gotten tattoo coverage as my job and then I had to go and index them all.” She flicks her eyes up to his sculpted face and sees he’s watching her work. “Plus, I have some butterflies of my own, remember?” She grins.

“Yeah,” he ponders her words, “I don’t think that’d put me in a good mood either.”

He pauses again and she continues to work silently.

“So what’s your excuse for the second day then?”

“You provoked me,” she doesn’t spare him a glance, shrugging like it was the simplest answer in the world.

“Pardon?”

“Let’s not go down this road again, Harry.” She sighs, smoothing over the freshly covered butterfly tattoo. His sternum looked so naked, it was unnerving. Now the ferns.

Harry involuntarily shivered when her fingers traced over the ferns lightly, taking note of the expanse of skin she’d have to cover.

“You’re right,” he agrees, “But agree to disagree on the provocation.”

“Sure,” she says curtly, focusing on his skin and her job.

The expanse of skin that the ferns inhabited was slightly fleshy and especially soft. It bordered where his boxers began and she ignored that part of his body completely. It was of no importance to her and she really had no issue blocking it from her vision, even when it was right in front of her. She finishes one fern with Harry jumping only twice from her cold hands. He couldn’t put his robe on until the makeup had all set for half an hour so he’d have to be cold for possibly another hour still.

She traces the fern that is still visible and Harry shivers. She instinctively shushes him softly and his body quiets. As she works, her hair splays around her shoulders and Harry looks down at her working and doesn’t realize what his hand is doing until it’s too late. His right hand runs over her hair, smoothing it out of her face. It was rarely ever down, so it must have been the novelty of it.

“Sorry, I-” he chokes out when he jerks his hand back.

She sits back, slightly taken aback. Her body flushes just from their positioning and what a hair caress would mean normally in this position, but she’s a professional and she shakes it off.

“It’s fine. We’re even.” She assures him, breaking eye contact with his own wide eyes. “Seems like we’re both hair touchers.”

“It’s just so soothing,” Harry muses. “I think it’s human instinct to touch other people’s hair since it’s so enjoyable for yourself.”

“Possibly,” her voice raises, his thought was definitely plausible. Or maybe they were just two touch starved people who were very much in each other’s personal space 24/7.

At the two and a half hour marker, she gets a walkie message from Olivia’s assistant asking when they’d be done. She had just finished the tiger tattoo, which had been surprisingly easy. It took a while, but Harry didn’t shiver once and neither of them pet each other’s hair.

“Probably 40 minutes, sorry. He has a lot of tattoos and the makeup needs to set.” She says seriously and gets back to work, barely regarding the response of “Yeah it’s fine, just wanted an estimate”.

“Jesus,” Harry moans as she covers up his knee tattoos.

She groans in veiled disgust, “Did I just hit a secret erogenous zone? Is that why you have ‘oui’ there, you creep?” There’s a teasing tone behind the nickname she uses.

Harry laughs and runs his hand over his face, pulling at his jaw and lower lip. His jaw is so sharp, she watches him adjust it. “No, no. I’m just so goddamn tired of this.”

“And it’s not your fault,” he adds, feeling bad immediately after he said it. “It’s actually been nice today, but I’m feeling antsy, like I need to move. I don’t like to sit still.”

“I know,” she says under her breath. She simply nods in agreement.

Finally, the tattoos are all covered up and set. They had talked about George Michael when she got to his ankle tattoos that she hadn’t seen before and they laugh about the tattoos and chat a bit more. She helps him slip on his robe that he keeps in his closet in the trailer and then follows him out of it. They had decided they were hungry and he had been pushed back an hour since he had taken so long, so he had a free half-hour.

As they walked to craft services, they talked about actual things besides work. She was pleasantly surprised by what Harry talked about. It was more than music or the movie. It was the tv show he was currently obsessed with and how he hated LA’s traffic the most out of all of his dislikes for the city. She couldn’t help but grin at his Los Angeles slander. She loved this side of him.

-

Breakfast together after finishing his tattoo coverage became their regular thing. He would come into the trailer, racing from his morning meeting accompanied with tea for two, they’d get his tattoos covered as quickly as possible, and then they’d eat together.

They’d save their “in-depth” chats for breakfast. In early November, he joked about No Nut November and insisted he really wouldn’t have a problem with it - which had made her laugh. They worried together over the U.S. presidential election and meditated together in his trailer to Fleetwood Mac.

Around late November, Harry had requested that Y/N just do his face makeup as well, just to simplify his life a little more and the department had agreed easily. She had to spend extra time on set getting lectured on how to properly do Harry’s makeup, but after two days she stopped getting notes about it. She was so extremely proud and thankful to Harry for doing that.

All he said was: “I mean, you’re extremely talented so I’m not scared of you fucking up my face. Plus, it does make my life easier. Two birds with one stone.”

In late November, he told her about his favorite holiday drinks at Starbucks and what he was getting his mother for Christmas.

When the Vogue cover came out, he laughed over that woman who responded to his cover saying the world needed to bring back manly men. He joked that he was going to really push that from now on, that he was a manly man, and he would sputter with laughter every time he tried to say it with a straight face.

He hand delivered her a special ‘Treat People With Kindness’ sweatshirt that he only had for the cast and crew of the film. Most everyone got them from a PA, but Harry decided since you saw him first in the morning, why not.

He told her about him winning Hitmaker of the Year from Variety when he had left the award sitting in Trailer 6 and about how weird it was to film acceptance speeches in an empty room. His smile had lit up the entire set that day and the day he did his interview on set. He was so smiley she had to bump him with her elbow because he wouldn’t stop smiling at her and it was unnerving.

“Stop that,” She muttered.

“Stop what?” He smiles wider.

“That!” She squeaked, her head shaking as she ducked it to regard his anchor tattoo. “You’re smiling too much.”

“Oh no,” he says sarcastically, “God forbid I be happy.”

“It’s not that,” she bumps his thigh with her elbow, trying to keep her own smile off her face, “Your face is just so intense when you smile. Feels like you’re gonna burn a hole through me.”

He laughs, completely unconvinced, “You just don’t want me to be happy is what I’m hearing.”

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever, dude.”

She saw he was serious about the ‘manly men’ references when the Variety photos came out and everyone and their mom posted the pictures with some variation of that comment as their caption.

She still found that she rolled her eyes at some of the things Harry did, but she genuinely counted him as a friend by the time December had rolled around.

Over three hours, almost always completely alone, doing work for a job you both care deeply about can really make or break a relationship. And that first full-body coverage day had made them stronger together. After that, Harry and her would banter with one another, but there was never anything intentionally cruel. Just friends giving each other shit sometimes. Harry had been right, he had changed her mind about him. And she had realized that that was who Harry was. He was a deliverer. If you didn’t like him at first, he would try and try again until you did, but he did it in a way that wasn’t weasley or anything. It was terribly genuine and she saw it in every relationship he had on set.

On several occasions she had witnessed his friendship with Nick Kroll. A man she had regarded with dislike before the film. She had quickly realized that dislike was misplaced, but she maintained that it was just because she hated adult cartoons - citing that she literally refused to be friends with any person who willingly watched the Simpsons, Family Guy, and/or American Dad and all of those similar shows.

Nick was far nicer and less weird than she had realized. So she quickly shot her friend from high school an apology text for all the Nick Kroll slander she had spouted back in the day. Her friend had rejoiced but also said how jealous she was that Y/N got to see him regularly on set.

Nick and Harry got along great. Harry generally got along better with older people, she noticed when she was introduced to his friends on the somewhat frequent occasion. Trailer 6 was where Y/N saw most of these reactions take place. She would be introduced in the first minute and then she would smile politely and get back to the work of covering up Harry’s numerous tattoos.

Harry would say something simple and Nick, the literal famous comedian, would laugh. In the beginning she’d raise a brow, confused because it truly wasn’t that funny, but as Harry’s friend now, she kept her mouth shut.

Nick would come and sit on the couch while she’d work and eventually all three of them would chat. Sometimes she would get up to go to the bathroom during those morning chats and she would look in the mirror and think to herself “How are you casually talking to these two men right now” and then she’d think “Because you are a boss ass bitch, you got this” and go back out there with a smile on her face.

“Y/N, what are you doing tonight?” Nick asked on the first Friday morning of December.

She looks up from Harry’s cross tattoo that was half covered. Harry was reading, a book casually propped in his right hand and glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. He glanced at the other two in the room. Nick had been getting some work done before he had spoken.

“No plans,” she states simply before getting back to work. It wasn’t full body today, but it was arms and torso, so kind of a lot still.

“You should come over for dinner at my place with Harry,” Nick smiles kindly. His scruff was really coming in today. “To celebrate us almost wrapping the first half of the movie.”

Harry had thankfully freshly shaved before he sat down. It was her least favorite part of her new job. Whenever he came in for touch ups and she had to shave his afternoon shadow. She was terrified she’d cut him and never live it down from her department or Harry. She had no idea which would be worse.

“My wife will be there too, of course,” he adds, hoping to entice her to say yes.

Harry glances between Y/N and Nick again before focusing on his book again.

She purses her lips, finishing Harry’s hand and moving onto the anchor tattoo. “Yeah, I mean, I don’t know why I’d say no. As long as I’m not intruding on the throuple,” she grins up at Harry.

He stares at her with his big green eyes, slightly obscured behind his prescription glasses. He raises his brows and wiggles them a little bit, teasingly.

Nick laughs and slyly winks at Harry through the mirror. Y/N none the wiser as she removes all traces of Harry’s tattoos.

“Great!” He claps his hands and stands up. “We’ll talk or I’ll make sure Harry gets you the info or something. I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out. My wife’s been wanting to meet you,” he smiles again and walks out of the trailer.

She tilts her head at the last part. He talked about her to his wife. Did he really count her as that close of a friend? She was just a makeup artist and he was a producer… She glances at Harry and he gives away nothing. His jaw looks extra prominent and she knows it’s because he’s clenching it. He did that when he was focused or angry, remembering it bulging on the first day they met and how clenched it had been then.

“Unclench your jaw,” she mutters, “It’s not good for you.”

Harry hums and unclenches it.

He stretches his neck by rolling his head around his shoulders and she glances at the movement. His skin is still beautifully sun-kissed and his pores look so soft, only his moles change the texture of his skin. She loves his moles though, they make him especially unique in her eyes. Not that he needed anything else to set him apart from the crowd. Still, she loved them. His collarbone is prominent as he sits there shirtless and she wishes she could reach out and brush at it. But she gets back to work, knowing the only time she’s gonna be brushing near that part of him is when she’s covering dates in those dips behind his collarbones.

“Y’know, I could just drive you to Nick’s tonight,” Harry says, putting his book down and taking off his glasses. He rubs at his eye with his free hand.

“You’re blind and British, how do I know you can even drive yourself?” She asks sillily, pointing to his glasses.

He shakes his head, “I’m serious, Y/N. Aren’t you staying in the same area as me?”

He asks because they had relocated to Palm Springs a little while ago and everyone had gotten rentals and it was hard to remember where everyone was holed up when they weren’t on set.

“Yeah, think so. But you don’t need to pick me up. I have a car.”

“Nonsense. I’ve been to his place before, don’t want you to have to deal with directions, that’s just silly.”

“I guess...” she resigns relatively easily. She had never hung out with Harry off the set or Nick for that matter. It felt surreal, but she knew the right answer was usually just say yes in these situations. So that’s what she says. “Yes, that’d be great, thank you,” she confirms and watches as Harry’s eyes glimmer softly before turning back to his book. A triumphant soft smirk rests on his face.

The words die out between the two of them as she works on. He hums along to the music and continues reading his book. When she’s done with his tattoo coverage and his face makeup, she sends him off to hair and the rest of his day. He gives a flirty wink as he walks out the door and she rolls her eyes in response. She tidies up her kit and then goes to do some other makeup work.

When she wasn’t working with Harry, she was assigned to some of the minor characters and doing their makeup. They were always her second concern, especially now that she did Harry’s makeup as well as his tattoos. As she works on them, she can feel her mind drifting to Harry. Harry and how they were friends now. She was pretty sure, right? They were friends. He had never really said a mean thing to her if she really thought about it. It was her… She had been rude and mean-spirited and he had just taken it. He rarely had even thrown it back at her. He was so good to her and patient and she realized that he had proven to her that he was good. He was better than good, he was kind and loving. Considerate. Wonderful. All of those positive superlatives, Harry filled them. And she had the audacity to be mean to him.

She paused the brush that was adding blush to an actresses cheek.

Lisa, the actress, looks at Y/N confusedly, “What’s wrong?”

Y/N twitches her head, refocusing on her task at hand. The realization of her pausing her work becomes clear as she looks between her hand and the cheek that has not enough blush on it. “Oh,” she breathes. “...I just realized that I was terrible to someone who doesn’t have a mean bone in their body.”

Lisa nods, “Apologize.”

“Yeah, I mean...We’ve kind of moved past the phase where we don’t get along. Like now we’re friends, but the realization just really hit me.” She sighs, picking up where she left off on Lisa’s makeup. “I’ll make sure to apologize next time I see them.”

Lisa smiles.

-

At the end of the day, Y/N realizes she left her tattoo coverage kit in Harry’s room after their touch-up session halfway through the day. She had run off to help with a makeup emergency for a tiny cut on a minor character’s face and forgotten to go back and grab her things. Another roll of her eyes and a huff of breath and then she’s walking back to Trailer 6, a place that seemed like a home away from home now. She knocks, patiently waiting at the bottom of the steps.

Harry swings open the door and props it with his hip. He’s got a toothbrush held in his mouth, slowly scrubbing back and forth with his left hand. His costume is somewhat taken off, he’s still got the pants on with suspenders hanging down, his chest was completely bare and he looked funny with some of his tattoos only being half covered based on what parts of his skin had been showing today. Her work. His skin looked half silky smooth and half tattooed like usual.

His naked skin seemingly left her breathless because as her eyes returned to Harry’s face, she breathed a soft, “Hi.”

“Hey,” a smirk twists onto his face. “Forget something?”

“Yes,” she nods, coming back to her senses and entering the trailer at Harry’s gesture.

She begins to pack up the kit that had been left haphazardly strewn around on his counter. “I’m sorry I left a mess like this, I got called over to something else and forgot.”

“Don’t worry darling,” Harry grins at his joke.

She looks up from her work and sees Harry in the reflection of the mirror. He’s wiping off the makeup from his chest and his beautiful tattoos reemerge as entire images.

She laughs humorlessly, “It gets less funny each time you use that.”

“That’s not true,” he looks at her through the mirror now, his green eyes trained on her face, “Everyone else still thinks it’s hilarious.”

“They’re humoring you and your fragile ego,” she winks and watches as Harry’s smirk twitches from his perfect face.

“You’ve got a very mean disposition, you know that?” He asks.

He finishes his chest and moves to remove the makeup from his left arm, glancing at the mirror every so often to check himself and to flicker his eyes over Y/N’s face.

She genuinely laughs at that, but scolds herself internally for being mean when she had planned to apologize the next time she saw Harry. This was the next time so why was she doing this instead?

“Rewrite sweet disposition for me?” Her voice honeyed. Clearly stubborn and terrible at saying sorry...maybe her and Harry were a better match than she realized.

Harry twists his lips as he slips on his t-shirt he was wearing today.

“Pick you up at 6:30?” He says as his head pops out from beneath the rainbow striped sweatshirt he slipped on top of the shirt. His chestnut hair had been toweled out and was flopping over his forehead slightly.

She sighs and zips close the kit, standing from the seat she had taken at his counter and turning to face him now.

“6:30 is perfect. Thanks again for doing this. I just can’t believe Nick Kroll is inviting me over for dinner!” She smiles, shifting to lean against the counter as she waits for Harry to finish up. She didn’t have to but for some reason she felt like she was in no rush.

“Are you serious?” He’s moved on to changing his pants now and he’s slipping on black sweatpants.

“Yeah…” She blinks and her eyes widen as Harry appraises her expression.

He straightens up after fixing a cuff on the pants and he can’t tell if she’s being genuine or sarcastic. It was always so hard to tell with her.

“I mean, Nick Kroll is like a huge celebrity and I know in the entertainment business you’re not supposed to get starstruck but when I was in college my sister thought he was weirdly hot and my friends and I would shit talk him. I don’t know, it’s just kind of surreal to be having dinner at his place. Like I’ve watched him on tv and now I’ll be eating with him...so weird.”

He shakes his head, beginning on his dirty vans now. A small laugh escapes his mouth and he glances between her and his shoe, scratching his head quickly. “I still can’t tell… It feels like you’re fucking with me right now.”

“I’m not!” She insists, her hands coming out in front of her in a confused fashion. “I used to watch that guy’s tv show then he’s my boss now he’s inviting me over for food? It’s a lot to process.”

“How come it’s not surreal to be having dinner with me then?” He asks semi-joking, a hint of offense tinged within it. It’s visible only in his knitted brow and twisted lip.

“Careful there, sailor. Venturing into some dangerously self-absorbed waters.” Her eyes light up, a quick raise of her brows accompany the shine, and she decides now is her time to head out. Especially as she thinks about getting ready for this soiree tonight. She needed to shower and pick out an outfit with less than two hours to prepare.

Harry sputters at her response and fumbles with his pink shoelace. “That’s not...that is - You’re being unfair. My question is valid.”

She shrugs her shoulders and skirts Harry’s attempt at grabbing at her arm to stop her from leaving. “Okay, Mr. Big Man On Campus. I promise you you’re the most popular boy in school.”

She blows him a kiss and walks out the door as he attempts to get her to come back by calling her name a few times and slightly shouting “C’mon! I wasn’t being insecure. That was a reasonable ask…”

He sighs and shakes his head again. Every interaction would end with one of them either rolling their eyes or shaking their head and usually a sigh on both of their lips. It was exhausting, but exhilarating too.

20 minutes later, Harry receives a text from Y/N: “You’re still picking me up right :))) ?”

He’s in his car, getting ready to finally leave after getting held up with last minute schedule changes that he had to be informed about by some PA that he had forgotten the name of. His lip quirks to the right and he closes his eyes for a second enjoying seeing her name on his phone screen for a moment.

He types back: “Of courseeee”.

“Fab.” She sends back, immediately followed by: “Fanks BMOC ;)”

A full smile rolls onto Harry’s face after he swipes his tongue over his lower lip. “Yeah, yeah, save it for the next guy” he types out quickly before throwing his phone gently beside him and driving back to his apartment. She made him feel young, not that he wasn’t young, but generally his friends didn’t text like she did.

-

At 6:28, she receives a text from Harry Styles - his name in her phone. A name she had never expected to see in her phone unless her Spotify was on shuffle. Yet, instead, his name popped up under messages and it read “Here!” followed by a quick “I think” and then a phone call coming through from the apparently anxious man himself.

“Hello Harry.” Her tone even. She throws little items into her purse, making sure everything she needs is there.

“Could you peek out your window? I’m not quite sure I’m at the right place and people are staring…” nerves laced in his rushed tone.

She ambles to the window and opens up the shade she had closed to change. Below her, she sees a sleek black Range Rover with a slightly disarrayed hairdo and big dark glasses peeking below the windshield. She ignored the instinct to retch at the sight of the Range Rover and peered at the lamp lit sight below her. It was definitely Harry, but she searched for the prying eyes he was worried about and saw none. Well, maybe a few, but it wasn’t a lot.

“I see you, I’ll be right out, dude. Just deep breaths, it’s mostly crew staying here right now so they’re just seeing that it’s you, another guy they work with. They won’t come up for pictures...I would hope.”

She hangs up with no farewell, snatches her purse from its place on the bed and races out the door. Harry smiles anxiously at her when she stands next to the passenger’s door and he unlocks it. She bites her lip and raises her brows, waiting to hear if anything terrible happened in the minute and a half it took her to come downstairs and out to the car.

“Hi,” he exhales.

A smirk crawls onto her features and her eyes sparkle with a bit of a childish glee that normally she didn’t exhibit as she glances at him. “Hi.” She says quietly. “Alright big boy?”

“‘M fine.” He huffs but balks at her smile that she maintains while she stares at him. “What?”

“Just happy to see you, I guess,” her smile returns after speaking and Harry glances between her face and the windshield in front of him.

He can’t tell if she’s being serious or not once again. But he fears that conversation of her either ridiculing him for thinking she is serious or being offended that he still can’t tell. Instead, he will keep his mouth shut. For the most part.

“Happy to see you, too,” his lips create a closed mouth smile quickly before turning out of the parking lot.

She watches him. Their first time together outside of work. And they were friends. She needed to get used to simply thinking that. He picked her up to take her to dinner with her other friend and his wife. This was normal life, just with big names behind those terms of relation. Jesus, she always said it didn’t bother her to be around celebrities so why did she think about it so damn much?

She twitches her head and refocuses on Harry and his driving. His jaw is clenched again and she wants to reach out and sooth it herself. Instead she starts to open her mouth to correct him, but stops herself from that as well. They weren’t at work and it didn’t feel like something just a friend would say right now. She refocuses on the view of his eyes that are barely visible while he regards the road. His large eyes that she had grown acquainted to are surveying what he’s doing, every so often drifting to the right side of the road to check out the lane beside him. But then, always back to right in front of him, leaving a crescent of green visible to her.

“Can feel you staring at me…” His voice sounds like it’s rolled around in gravel after the long work day. It makes her wonder if he’s supposed to have a vocal rest when he’s not at work, but then again it’s the weekend now so maybe it was fine. Maybe she should ask him. Or maybe she should stop worrying so much about him.

“Have I got something on my face?” His low register bumps her from her racing thoughts. He doesn’t take his eyes off the road, but she can see he’s widened his eyes in wonder.

“No! Of course not, I just was...making sure you weren’t going to crash us or something.” She grasps at straws, desperate to not be caught by Harry.

A low chuckle bubbles from his chest and he spares a small glance over at her bundled up in his passenger seat. She matches his gaze with something of distrust hidden behind her eyes. She hopes to convey that she’s being silly and when Harry turns back to look at the road unassumingly, she feels like she has won. The harmonies of the beginning of a Queen song take over the silence, Harry’s spindly fingers thrumming against the wheel.

They arrive at the Kroll’s Palm Springs residence at 6:50. 10 minutes early and the two twiddle their thumbs for a few minutes, trying to pass the time and not intrude earlier than they were supposed to. She appreciated that Harry liked to be timely but not early, similar to how she was.

“So what is the fascination with Range Rovers?” She queries, leaning against the door’s armrest. The back of her head touches against the semi-tinted window.

Harry shifts in his seat, seat belt no longer constricting him and no road requiring his attention as they sit in the driveway. He rushes a hand through his hair and lets a single strand of hair fall over his prominent forehead.

“Dunno,” he shrugs his shoulders and allows a hand to fall onto the steering wheel absentmindedly. “I don’t really prefer them anymore, but when I’m in LA and doing work, it makes things easier. My other cars are a little flashier...have more privacy in this.”

“Yet the effect is similar,” she muses.

Her head tilts to take in Harry’s appearance, sharp black silky button-up and dark green plaid slacks, and she rubs a hand over her jaw. His eyes flicker to the movement and attempt to really take it in, even in the dim glow of the lamp light outside barely peeking into the dark interior of the car.

“Effect?”

“Y’know…” She arches her brow at him. He feigns innocence or possibly the expression is genuine. She’s begun to realize Harry was as genuine as they came, but she just didn’t think he was that unaware. An assumption that was likely correct, but even Harry liked to pretend he was a completely unassuming individual.

“Forget it,” she finishes when he gives no indication that he knows what she is hinting at. She doesn’t want to get into it with him again. Especially when he plays at this game where he has no idea what she’s talking about. It made her feel like she was crazy for thinking he made these calculated decisions to get his desired outcomes.

They move on, neither of them quite sure what the other was getting at in that conversation. The two of them walk into the house a minute before their expected arrival time side by side and are greeted happily with Nick and his wife. They’re ushered in and Y/N is happily received by the happy couple.  

“So, Y/N, how’s it been for you working with these two? I know they can be more than a handful - especially together,” Nick’s wife, Lily, asks after a sip of wine.

The group of four had been eating for a while with Nick and Harry bantering for quite a bit at the beginning about whether or not Harry would be willing to hand feed Nick. The answer was settled at “another time”.  

Harry seems to have a very specific habit of watching whoever is speaking - no matter what. So after Lily has finished speaking, his gaze flickers to Y/N, the person his brain expects to speak next. He watches her attentively as she wipes her mouth on her napkin before speaking.

Her hair was styled differently tonight than it usually was on set, she had it down rather than up in a ponytail or braids. He hadn’t had time to really look at her when they had been in the car, his mind occupied with stress and exhaustion that he refocused into driving and deep breathing. Now, in the comfort of a trusted friend’s home, he was far more relaxed and able to truly take in her appearance, which he couldn’t help but think was beautiful. He’d have to tell her that at some point. That he thought she was beautiful. Not that he didn’t see her on set and think she was beautiful...he just hadn’t really thought about it before. She was his wily makeup artist who was critical of him most times, but occasionally sweet, who had an amazing taste in music and good aesthetic style. The beauty part of it all, he guessed wasn’t something integral to their relationship before.

But now he was sitting beside her at the Kroll’s nice dining table and she had her hair splayed in front and behind her shoulders with one side tucked behind her ear and her outfit fit her impeccably. The top she had on had capped sleeves that cinched with buttons at her delicate wrists and a severe drop to create a small sweetheart neckline just above the curve of her breasts. It was silky and shiny, a blush pink that complemented the high waisted dark grey slacks that flared over shiny black boots that he wasn’t sure where they ended beneath the pants.

“Well,” she starts, chuckling under her breath when she meets Harry’s stare, “Harry and I spend a lot of time together, covering up all his tattoos, and he yaps a lot. So, it’s actually pretty refreshing when Nick comes in, because Harry’s then talking half the normal amount.”

He huffs a scoff, while Lily and Nick laugh happily. Nick interjects an “ouch” for the bite she just took out of Harry, but she thought it was fine, he can take it.

Harry thought to himself that if she can serve it, then she can definitely take it. His eyes remain on her as he opens his mouth to speak, but then look at Lily when words actually come out. “Well, Y/N, she thinks she can read people really well, but it’s actually quite the opposite. She had me completely wrong when we first met, so I talk now in hopes that she’ll really understand me.”

His head tilts to her when he mentions her name, but otherwise doesn’t glance her way away again. He scrunches his nose at the end of his comment, implying he converses with her out of pity.

It’s her turn to scoff and stare at him unamused. Nick and Lily share a look, unsure of what was going on, they had concocted this dinner date idea in hopes to set the two up but the way this conversation was going, they seemed to be pushing each other further and further away from one another.

“That’s simply not true,” she says curtly and takes a sip of her quickly emptying wine glass.

“Which part?”

“Almost all of it, I’d say,” her eyes glaring back at him, fiery with a disdain he hadn’t seen in awhile. “You’re proving my original perception of you with every passing second,” she adds.

“Care to elaborate exactly what the original perception of me was for the class,” his eyes are wide and wild, any extra adoration he had started to feel towards her slipping away just as quickly as it had come, like a wave along the beach.

“You know, so why don’t you?”

“I want to hear you say it,” he grits out the command.

She shifts in her seat, glancing at Nick and Lily who are watching on and she has a feeling she won’t be getting an invitation again anytime soon. Lily gives her a semi-reassuring smile like she was sorry to have asked the question at all, but Y/N knows this is kind of her fault, not that she would ever admit that. Her comment could have been taken innocuously, but Harry’s pride wouldn’t let it slide. Like she said, she should have known better, the weeks of friendship were flying out the window and she was helping them along.

“And what if I don’t?”

“Have fun calling an uber at this time of night,” he shrugs, malice dripping in his tone.

She truly was taken aback at this. A slight sound of shock leaving her mouth. Harry was many things, impatient and anxious usually, but downright cruel with her, she had yet to see it. Arrogant and pompous, definitely, but this wickedness that was starting to creep from the shadows worried her. But the little fiery demon within her wasn’t going anywhere either - yet she might back down to save herself some money and hassle.

“Fine,” she raises her brows in a challenge to him and restates her original take on him - possibly adding a bit extra malice in her phrasing, “You are a shell of a man, held up by the people around you, creating the illusion of a completely genuine and down to earth rocker who dabbles in acting, philanthropy and all around goodness. No one’s ever had a bad experience because no one’s ever truly met you. Not the real you.” She takes a deep breath as she shakes her head in disbelief now, a sarcastic laugh leaving her mouth, “And I thought, I really thought, that I had been wrong. Because these past months you really fooled me with your sweet smile and deep eyes. But when it comes down to it, you tricked me just like everyone else.”

Harry stares at her blankly and she shakes her head once more, feeling foolish. For thinking Harry was someone he wasn’t. For thinking the past few months had been real. For thinking that tonight would go off without a hitch. And the shit part of it was that she had really hoped that all of it was true. She wanted this to be her life, but her instincts had been right. Beware of the picture perfect because it always is just a mirage of deceit and lies.

“All I’ve got to say is you’re a damn good actor Harry, so at least you’ve got that going for you.” Then she pushes back from the table and stands, turning to Nick and Lily. “I really am so sorry, I understand that you probably want me to leave, so I’ll just be going,” her voice faltering at the end, she wasn’t as strong as she liked to pretend and she was pretty sure she just ruined her chances of working again in Hollywood. You’d have to be an idiot to be an enemy of Harry Styles and she feels like she just became his first.

“No!” Nick says quickly, standing too, “I think things just escalated really quickly and some things were said that both of you didn’t mean. Um...just, let’s take a few minutes to cool off. Harry could you and Lily deal with the dishes and I’m going to talk with Y/N alone.”

Everyone nods and Y/N follows Nick down a hallway, a little confused but following after he beckons her with his hand. They go out a side door and end up on a porch in the backyard. He stoops down and opens a little sitting mailbox she didn’t see and pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He places one between his teeth and then offers one to her. She accepts, not usually a regular smoker, but right now seemed like a fair time to indulge in the bad habit. She needed to calm her rapidly beating heart.

He lights the cigarette for her when he sees her shaking hands and then in turn lights his own. They stand on the porch beside each other and stare out into the dark night sky.

“Well, this wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go,” Nick starts, after a few exhales of smoke.

“No,” she laughs nervously, her foot toeing at the wooden slate on the porch. “I shouldn’t have tried to make a joke.”

“No one’s to blame,” Nick says quickly, glancing at her, “You and Harry...you both have really strong personalities and I don’t think either of you are used to being challenged.”

She nods along, she definitely had to agree after the argument they had both willingly gotten into in front of other people.

“I think that can be a really good thing, challenging each other, because then you two can both grow. But what happened in there was more of a battle to the death rather than a friendly spar.”

“Yeah,” she exhales, flicking at the burning cigarette between her fingers, “I don’t know why he gets under my skin sometimes in a way I’ve never dealt with and it’s kind of uncomfortable so I lash out, I guess.”

Nick stays quiet, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Ugh,” she groans, “I wish I hadn’t done that. We were doing so well, it’s like I don’t even really know what I’m saying, it’s like I can’t handle a friendly spar, I always end up going in for the kill - as you put it.”

She rubs at her face with her free hand and then takes a drag herself. Nick bites at his lower lip, trying to think of a solution.

“Y’know? Lily and I had concocted this plan to try and set you and Harry up tonight,” he says slowly, revealing the plan that had clearly been taken off the table as they just needed to attempt to salvage cordiality.

“Really?!” She’s in complete disbelief and slight dismay that the plan was seemingly ruined.

“Well,” he sputters, “When the two of you aren’t throwing verbal fireballs at each other, you’re actually quite sweet to one another. Those fond little glances you hope no one sees, well he does that too, and you both fail miserably because I see it all the time. I’m sure plenty of people do too.”

“Oh,” she states, visibly deflating. She looks to the ashtray conveniently on a table behind her and presses out the rest of the cigarette. “Should probably talk to him, huh?”

Nick nods, stamping out his nub of a cigarette as well. They go back inside and into the kitchen where Lily and Harry have plated dessert. Harry looks a little sheepish, likely having a similar conversation with Lily and she wouldn’t be surprised if her expression looks similar, if not a bit more flushed from the outdoor chill.

Lily murmurs that she and Nick are going to eat their dessert in the living room, a fair bit away from the kitchen and the two now deflated counterparts nod and then stare at each other, knowing what they need to do.

“Can we talk?” Harry rasps out, his voice even lower as he speaks softly, a mere foot away from her in the kitchen.

She nods, but moves further from him to lean against the counter and tuck her hands behind her. She’s lost her appetite and doesn’t want Harry to see her shaking digits.

He’s ducked his head and a stray curl falls over his forehead, laying there softly. He doesn’t move to fix it, just stares at his feet until she begins to talk. He can’t not look at her face when she speaks.

“So…” She slowly starts, not enjoying the tension in the room. Her eyes can’t meet his though, his stare dark and unnerving like usual, but almost painfully so now. “I can start.” She kicks at the tiling on the floor like she had done outside as well, trying to not think about the eyes trained on her right now. “I’m sorry I lashed out on you, Harry. I didn’t mean what I said, it was just a heat of the moment response.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Harry says immediately once she finishes speaking, “I shouldn’t have gotten upset over a silly joke and brought up a sensitive subject. Then it escalated…”

“Yeah, I really liked the friendship we’ve garnered these past few months and I just can’t believe I almost ruined everything - including my career…” she squeaks at the end and tears start to roll from her eyes. “Oh god,” she is hit with the gravity of all that she almost ruined as Harry stares at her again. “I’m so sorry, Harry, I really am. Do you forgive me? I don’t think I could stand it if you didn’t.”

She stands there and feels sobs wrack through her and her hands go to cover her face out of embarrassment. She had caused a scene and now she was making another one. In front of Harry.

In an instant his arms are wrapped around her frame and he’s hushing her cries. They had never hugged before, but now seemed like as good a time as ever. His arms were strong around her and she pressed her face into his chest, not caring at all about how she looked or whether this was worse than getting in a fight and running off.

“Of course I forgive you,” he says and then begins repeating her name over and over, trying to soothe her. He definitely had been hurt by her words, but it seemed like she was more upset about the whole situation than he was and he didn’t think bringing up what specifically had hurt him would help her frame of mind.

She settles after some time, her whimpers and tears subsiding after being rocked into a more peaceful mindset with the help of Harry’s calming voice and reassuring embrace.

“I really am sorry,” she whispers again.

Harry pulls his neck back and his head off the top of her head to look at her face. It was tear stained and her eyes were glassy, lips slightly puffy. He gave her a soft tight-lipped smile. “No more apologies,” he states sternly and then softens again at the slight quiver in her lip. He pulls from her a little more, leaving her at arm's length, with his hands still attached to her hips, fingers slipping over the plaid fabric. “I meant to tell you this earlier, before things…” he stares at her face again and she holds it this time, “You look beautiful tonight.”

She scoffs and her eyes immediately drop to her feet, “Definitely not anymore.” She doesn’t believe Harry.

“‘M serious,” he insists. His right index finger goes to rest beneath her chin and brings her face up to look back at him.

“Sure,” she says, still not convinced but not sure how else to respond. She feels herself warming at all the positive attention he’s pouring into her.

His gaze won’t falter from her face, he’s intent upon making her understand him. He whispers her name, “Accept the compliment.”

“You’re stubborn,” she notes.

“So are you,” he counters quickly.  

“Fine, thank you,” she sighs when he won’t stop giving her that look of his. That look that makes her want to melt into the ground because it feels like she’s the only person in the world. “Though you looked especially good tonight, too,” she adds, her hands rubbing over his shoulders softly.

“Thank you,” Harry states lowly, the words only traveling to her ears. His hands fiddle with the sides of her top, thinking about the night and where they were now. Her eyes were red from crying and overall she looked tired beyond her years. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“That’d be nice.”

They make a quiet farewell to Nick and Lily, as well as apologies from both her and Harry. They don’t speak in the car and the music plays loud enough for it to not seem unreasonable for them to be silent. Harry’s hands don’t tap against the steering wheel, they sit in their spots stoically doing their job and nothing more. She watches the window, legs crossed and hands clasped in her lap. She’s thankful for the music because she knows that even though they had talked, it wasn’t enough. What she had said was hurtful and one apology wasn’t enough for how she had behaved. She didn’t think her and Harry would be the same after tonight, but the silence made it possible for her to pretend none of it had happened.

Just as Harry’s car is pulling up the apartment complex that is far darker now, the harsh splatter of rain begins to fall on the pavement and the sleek black car the two are still sat in.

“Oh,” she comments offhandedly, just responding to what she had noticed.

The rain grows louder when Harry parks and then turns off the car. He glances at her for the first time since they got into the car. She registers the look out of the corner of her eye, her face still looking out at the rain. She loved the rain, but there wasn’t always a lot in Southern California, especially not in Palm Springs. It seemed that tonight was different.

“Well,” Harry breaks his silence, she thinks that’s her cue to leave and unbuckles her seatbelt, but he continues. “This certainly wasn’t how I expected this night to go.”

She stops moving, her hand hovering over the handle of the door. She sits back and settles into the seat, feeling her teeth bite into the plush of her bottom lip.

“That’s what people keep saying,” her eyes remain on the rain hitting the front of the car, the splatters of seemingly black liquid that form when the clear rain touches the onyx hood of the car.

“Huh?” Harry grows perplexed at the rather wistful tone of her and how she won’t look at him again. He was still hurt, but he had hoped them talking in the kitchen had straightened some things out. During the car ride he hadn’t wanted to talk, but it didn’t mean he was still angry with her. Just confused, and growing further confused by the second.

“Oh,” she repeats, “Didn’t Lily say? Her and Nick concocted that dinner in hopes to set us up.”

Harry hums, knowing that because Nick had left out a little part of that plan. That he had been a part of it. He had been talking with Nick about getting to know her better outside of work and how Nick had thought it’d be a good idea to have dinner so he had told Lily and they set it up like a casual dinner party. Harry didn’t know how to respond because her knowing that he was in on the plan might just make matters worse. He really didn’t think things could get much worse, but it seemed that they always managed to make it happen so in the end he decided to keep his mouth shut.

“I don’t know if we’d ever be able to work out differences out for that,” she decides to continue, when Harry stays quiet. She scans the interior of the car and watches Harry for the briefest moment before going back to looking out the window. “Nick said that we challenge each other to grow, but all I see us do is hurt each other.”

Her voice is just above the rain pattering outside the car and Harry thinks it sounds almost melodic if it weren’t for the sadness laced in every word.

“I disagree,” he states before wetting his lips.

“Of course you do,” she laughs in spite of herself.

“Even after all these months together and you still don’t get it. I like you.”

“You don’t like me, I don’t know how you could ever like me,” she shakes her head. “We just...we get under each other’s skin. You can make me so angry sometimes and I know I make you angry too. And when we’re not angry, we’re focussed on something that doesn’t have to do with ourselves.”

“I don’t think what you feel for me is anger,” Harry insists, “Just because something feels burning and fiery, frustrating even, doesn’t mean it’s anger.”

His body shifts closer to the center divide and she turns to face him finally. His eyes are extra dark in this lighting, which is barely there from a streetlamp a ways off. She longs for the comfort of his light green eyes, the soft pale glow of the moss that seems to have been trapped within his iris. Maybe for that reason she unknowingly leans closer to him.

“Then what is it?” She whispers, eyes blinking slowly as her breathing grows strained.

“Passion.”

Immediately, her head is tilting to meet his lips. Her mind knows one thing, she needs to be kissing Harry right now. And then she is. His left hand goes to cup her cheek as his lips attach themselves to hers. His soft lips press to hers in a long searing kiss. They stay there for a moment, pressing all of that passion and frustration into the kiss.

She presses impatiently forward, her lips starting to move more, wanting to kiss him deeper. Harry obliges, parting his lips and kissing her more vigorously. He licks into her open mouth and smiles at the sound she makes in appreciation for his actions.

She’s shifted to have herself kneeling on the leather seat and she’s leaning over the console. One of her hands finds purchase on Harry’s thigh and grasps tightly, her other at the back of his neck, pressing him closer if it were possible.

His chest is pressing against hers as he pulls her closer. He kisses her and his fingertips rub softly at the apple of her cheek. Eventually they run behind the shell of her ear and trail down her neck.

Eventually, she pulls away and stares at Harry. She watches as his eyes flutter open gently. His soft eyelashes dust his cheeks before moving away, allowing his eyes to peer at her in the dark.

Her breathing feels a little irregular after the kissing and she’s sure she is heaving her chest slightly, likely mirroring Harry’s chest as well.

“So, where to now?” She inquires, lips quirked up at her suggestion.

Harry giggles and scratches his nose against his index finger.

-

Harry doesn’t stay the night, he walks her up to her apartment door though. He kisses her chastley in front of her door and wraps an arm around her waist as he does so. He bids her a goodnight and a promise of seeing her soon.

They don’t see each other for a month. Both of them had been so blissful after the endorphins of kissing their person that they had forgotten that filming had wrapped. They weren’t set to work for a month. Harry texted her the next morning informing her that he’d be in England until filming resumed. She was still going to be in California, filming was moving back to Los Angeles, so she’d be back in her place there. Her family knew she was working, so they had sent her presents ahead to her place instead. Angie, her only true friend in the area, was spending her time with her actual family and Y/N didn’t want to intrude.

So the holidays were going to be spent alone. Those four weeks alone passed surprisingly quickly. She practiced techniques on herself, bought a tiny Christmas tree like the one in A Charlie Brown Christmas, watched A Charlie Brown Christmas and just about every other holiday movie possible. She fell in love with young Hugh Grant and Colin Firth for the thousandth time. She sang carols to herself and decorated her place with decorations from Target. She jammed out to the new Miley Cyrus album and held dance parties for herself in the house. She baked cookies and even attempted a trifle after watching a Great British Bake Off episode. She did and she did all in hopes that her mind wouldn’t wander to the guy who hadn’t called.

Harry texted occasionally, but it was infrequent at best. He was a busy person, she knew that. She knew who he was. And she didn’t want her mind to have enough time to feel sorry for herself. For her to think that she was just somebody to pass the time with while at work, because if she stopped doing things that’s where her mind would wander. Why did her mind spiral like it did? She had no idea, she’d always been like that.

His absence, their separation, made her question if her own feelings were even true. She wondered if when she saw him he would act as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t said their relationship was passionate and she had kissed him until she couldn’t breath.

Too much time alone, she needed some fresh air. On January 2nd, after an uneventful night at home and a lackluster countdown washed down with cheap champagne, she decided to go and walk around near her place. There was a coffee shop that wasn’t extremely expensive that she also liked that she figured she would get coffee from. After a brisk walk, she walked through the store's doors and ordered an iced green tea. As she waited, she watched the other customers around her, wishing to see a friendly face, someone she knew. And seconds later, she was met with half of that wish. Someone she knew, not necessarily a friendly face.

“Autumn.” She states with a grimace when someone taps her on the shoulder and she spins around.

“Y/N? It is you!” Autumn, one of the PA’s from Don’t Worry Darling who was especially in Harry’s business, exclaims overly happy as per usual.

Y/N bites the inside of her cheek and gives a tight lipped smile, trying her best to be cordial.

“How’s your holiday been!” Autumn asks.

“Great. You?”

“So great!” She’s quick to lean closer and say in a hushed tone, “But I miss working on set, especially getting to see that Harry everyday. He’s just so gorgeous.”

A breath gets stuck in Y/N’s chest at the mention of Harry’s name. Her brows can’t help but raise a bit at Autumn’s comment. Even lowering her voice didn’t make it feel alright to talk about Harry like this. He was her friend after all.

“Sure.” Y/N nods abruptly, realizing Autumn wants some recognition of what she’s just said. Y/N’s eyes glance around the room, hoping for an out like her drink is ready or something - no such luck.

“I mean,” Autumn keeps talking, of course, “You’re so lucky. You get to see him shirtless, like what? Everyday practically? Don’t tell me you don’t miss that just a little bit!”

“I miss working,” Y/N says, avoiding what Autumn is trying to get her to say. “And Harry’s my friend, could you maybe not talk about him like that with me?”

Autumn’s eyes widened in shock, her lips parted dumbfounded by her co-worker's response. Y/N’s name is called for her drink and she’s thankful for the serendipitous nature of that sound getting her out of the awkward situation she had just been in.

When she gets back to her apartment, she surprisingly has a text from Harry himself. She’s always telling everyone; speak of the devil and he will appear, in one way or another. It’s a Happy New Year well wish followed by a separate text asking how she was.

It was sent a minute ago so she decides to try and give him a call. She preferred talking on the phone over texting.

It rings a few times and then, again surprisingly, he picks up.  

“‘Lo?” His voice is nice and deep and sounding extra British after his weeks surrounded by family and such.

“Harry,” she sighs contentedly.

“Happy to hear your voice,” he says her name and she can tell he’s smiling just like she is, from ear to ear.

She bites at her lip, hearing him say her name.

“I’m well, thanks,” she says after a moment of happy silence.

“What?” Harry laughs, confused.

“You texted asking me how I was and I called to respond.”

“Got it,” Harry chuckles, and she hears him shuffling around, likely sitting down on something.

“How are you?” She continues.

“Good, starting to wind down for the day,” he lists off the things he’s been doing over the past few days. Some of it work related, some of it family activities. All of it fun, he insists. “What did you do today?” He finishes, knowing she was an avid activity doer based off of the snaps she had sent him over the past few weeks.

“Tidied my place, went to the coffee shop and got iced tea…” she tries to think and then she gasps, “Oh! And I saw Autumn, one of the Don’t Worry Darling PA’s -”

“The one who’s obsessed with me?”

“Exactly!” She laughs, “And I may have kind of told her off… accidentally.”

“Accidentally told her off?” Harry repeats, incredulous. “How’d you do that?”

“Well,” she doesn’t want to tell him the rest, but there’s also a tiny part of her that really does, “She was gushing about you, which, ew. And then she asked if I missed seeing you shirtless everyday.”

“Well do you miss seeing me shirtless?” Harry smirks.

“Oh shut up!” She’s quick to reply.

“So you do?”

“If I really wanted to see you shirtless, all I’d have to do is type in “Harry Styles sh” and it would come up,” she rolls her eyes even though she knows he can’t see them. “Wouldn’t even need the whole word. Guaranteed.”

“Uh-huh?” Harry questions still, “If you want me to send you shirtless pictures that the rest of the world hasn’t seen, Y/N, all you have to do is ask.”

“I do not want you to send me shirtless pictures of yourself!” She exclaims. She feels like jumping out of a window right now. This conversation had escalated so quickly and she felt herself flushing, maybe even perspiring a little bit. And she also knew that she also would probably like it if he sent her shirtless pictures, which made this whole thing worse.

“Offer stands,” he says, smug as he normally was, happy he got to banter with her again. It had been dull without her, if he was honest with himself. “If you ever find yourself in need, just send a cheeky text and I’ll whip one out for you, no matter where I am or what I’m doing.”

“See this sounds like you’re saying something sincere, but really you’re just telling me you’ll send me nudes at any time.”

“No one said anything about nudes!”

“Shirtless, nude, sounds like you’re getting too caught up in the details, hon.”

“No!” He protests, “You’re the one who’s supposed to be flustered right now, not me!”

“Aww, you’re flustered,” She coos.

Harry groans. “Whatever. I’ll be back on the 8th, be ready to go out on the 9th. I’m taking you on a proper date.”

“How do you know I’m going to say yes?” She bite her lip again, she’s really sweating now. She couldn’t believe he had just asked her out on a date out of nowhere. Out of them just joking about nudes. Maybe she didn’t know Harry as well as she thought.

“Because you called me,” he says confidently.

“I call everyone.”

“But I don’t offer shirtless pictures to everyone.”

“That has nothing to do with me saying yes to this date.”

“Or does it?”

She laughs at his words, at how his voice still manages to convey every facial expression and quirk of his lips. She knows there’s a smile on his lips as he stares in the distance, imagining her face just as she is his.

“Yes.” She smiles.

“Yes!” He repeats happily.

She hears him stand up and spin around possibly and she chuckles slightly, amused at the silly man across the world who had seemed to have stolen her heart.

“See you soon, Harry.”

“Not soon enough.”

-

On the Saturday of their date, Harry insists on picking her up. He meets her at her door and winks at her after pulling away from their short hug. He laces his hand in hers and she follows behind him as he all but drags her to his car that is downstairs. He seems giddy. His hair has grown out in the month he’s been gone and she knows they’ll cut it when filming resumes. He’s wearing Gucci flared blue jeans - she knows from the big logo on the bottom left pant leg - a ‘Waiting for Sunset’ graphic tee beneath a black cardigan with little animals and items knitted in it. And of course, his dirty ass vans. She had hoped that maybe Christmas would bring him a fresh pair from someone, but it seemed there was no such luck.

Either way, he looked good and upon scanning his outfit, she was pleased that she had dressed correctly for the occasion, knowing one of the sins of Los Angeles was being improperly dressed wherever you might go. Harry had said casual, but casual can always mean so many different things. She got it right with light wash high-waisted levi’s, a brown cream rib-knit long sleeve that buttoned like it could be a cardigan, and some fun chunky boots that added some height to her normal stature. She had contemplated between this and possibly twenty other tops and a few other bottoms. Landing on this felt right, plus it didn’t clash with Harry, the color of her shoes actually matched the color of the snake on the cardigan.

They both compliment each other on the way out to his car and she giggles when he stops and twirls her around. He says he didn’t get a “proper look” before for him to compliment her adequately. After the twirl, he nods and starts them off again, complimenting the specific pieces of her clothes and says she looks beautiful again. His giddiness was contagious.

“No Range tonight,” she muses when Harry stops them in front of a Mercedes-Benz cream convertible, top up.

“Not working,” he replies, unlocking the car with the key into the passenger’s side door handle.

She smiles and slides into the car and watches him jog around to his side and unlock it as well.

“Tonight is going to be fantastic,” he says, leaning over the console and kissing her cheek, just beside her lips.

And when he pulls away with that smug smile of his, she knows he kissed her there on purpose. But the little tease only makes her smile more. He was good at this. And he was right.

The night was fantastic. As was every night after. And she learned that Harry was so much more than anything she ever thought. She counted herself lucky to be loved by a man like him.

#harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #enemies to lovers #dwd!harry #idk I always feel like theres more I need to put in here but idk #pls leave feedback and reblog

[lavenderwhore444]

So I’m obsessed with the idea of cow shigaraki don’t ask me why lmaoo anyways shigaraki was always an asshole to everyone ( everyone tries to take him seriously but his cute little ears makes it hard) shigaraki hasn’t gotten out of his room for days and everyone kind of got worried but forced the reader to check it since shigaraki was a littel bit decent to them ( everyone knows shigaraki has a crush on the reader but of course the reader is lowkey dumb to notice) to there surprise the reader finds shigaraki humping his pillow while sniffing the readers sweater or panties that he “ borrowed” and moaning readers name, it turns out our little cow shiggy here has his heat not to mention little drops of milk are coming out of his pink nipples, shigaraki notices the reader and just starts crying and whining and begging the reader ti help him out because he’s in so much pain and can’t get off ( the reader does have a heart and helps him out but it’s not gonna be that easy since the reader does want to tease him a bit but soon gives him what he wants) a fluff ending because why not

This lives rent free honestly loll anyways add any kinks u want sweetheart 

COMMISSIONS

BRO I JUST REALIZED WE REACHED OVER 100 FOLLOWERS I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH

PLEASE SOMEONE MAKE FAN ART FOR THIS

If you want to use interactive fics, it's easy and makes reading fics SO much better. First, you download the Google Chrome extension. You'll see it in the top right corner of your screen. Next, you enter your name in the first box. If you want to change something other than y/n, please click on the text that says “want to change something other than y/n?” here, you can change any word you want to a different word. When I talk about your quirk I will use y/q

InteractiveFics

Master List

Warnings: Hand job, blow job, thigh fucking, normal fucking, mommy kink, this time Shiggy is making milk for y/n, pillow humping, heat, boobies lol, bad words, he has cow ears and tail because that’s fucking adorable, he cums like... a lot.

I know what everyone is thinking, and I pinky promise that Shigaraki does not moo in this, so don't worry. I did read a fic like this and everyone turned it into like a “cursed fanfic” because the mooing weirded them out, but the only thing that really bothered me is that it was non-con (non-consensual [rape]). I will never ever ever EVER EVER EVER write non-con. Never.

Ok, I am on a fucking roll with the mommy kink, so here we go 😌

Anon your ideas make me write for literal hours cause I get so excited and I write for “20 minutes” that turns into four hours that turns into getting half of your requests done in less than a week. If anyone reading this can draw, I demand art of cow Shigaraki. This reminds me of Shigamothie (my guilty pleasure)

However, the way he looks in my head isn't drawn out, and um, I can’t draw 😃

I FOUND SOME UHIUHINIJMIOANIONSJIND

“Y/n, it's been days. Go check on him, ” Dabi said.

“Why don't you go do it?” you asked.

“Because he’ll fucking dust me, ” he responded.

“And? He would dust me too, ” you said.

“Y/n, first of all, that's impossible because of your quirk, ” Dabi said, “and second, everyone knows Shiggy has a crush on you. Well, everyone but you,”

“He does not, ” you scoffed.

“I'll bet everyone dinner for the next three nights that he does. But you have to go up there and ask him, ” Spinner said.

“Fuck, ” you muttered, “fine! Fine, I'll go, ”

You trudged up the stairs, sighing when you got to his room.

You knocked but there was no response.

“Risking my job so those assholes can eat, ” you muttered.

To your dismay the door was unlocked and you walked in.

“Hey, this is a dumb question, but-” you cut off, “Shigaraki are-are you ok?”

He was curled up on the bed in fetal position, naked with a pillow between his legs, humping it desperately. He didn't seem to notice you yet.

‘Is that my sweater?’ you thought.

You put a hand oh his shoulder, “Shigaraki? Are you ok?” you asked again.

He shook his head, moaning, “need you y/n, ” he gasped, “need you, please. It hurts. It hurts so bad please y/n, ”

You bit your lip, scratching behind his ears as he moaned desperately.

“I can't. I-I can't get myself off, ” he sobbed, “it doesn't w-work. I need you y/n I need to be inside of you I-”

He let out a strangled yelp as white liquid shot out of both his cock and his erect pink nipples. You knew he had cow ears and a tail, but you never thought he’d actually make milk. You knelt by the bed and sucked experimentally, enjoying the taste of his warm milk.

“Mmm, ” you hummed, drinking more.

“Y-y/n don't. It feels too good when you do that I can't-” he cried, spilling another load onto the poor pillow.

You giggled, “i didn't know you went into heat. It's kinda cute, ” you said, brushing sweaty matted hair out of his face.

He hid his face in your sweater again, just for you to pull him to face you once more.

“Mommy, ” he whispered, “I need you. Please, mommy, ”

You kissed his forehead, “mommy, huh? Y’know you're really not that scary, Shiggy. The ears and tail don't help either, ”

He whined, blushing, “please mommy?”

He looked up at you with puppy dog eyes that you couldn't resist.

You sighed, “fine. But only if you answer my question, ”

He nodded, “anything, mommy. I’ll do anything, ”

You took a deep breath before asking, “do you have a crush on me? ”

“Wh-what? ” he stuttered before blowing another load with a groan.

“I asked you if you have a crush on me,” you repeated.

He couldn't hide it from you. He couldn't even hide it from himself.

“Yes, ” he groaned, “yes, I have a fucking crush on you. Please fuck me y/n, ”

“Say please again, baby. I love it when you beg,” you said, kissing him.

He froze as you pressed your lips to his. Shigaraki looked up at you with wide eyes. That was his first kiss, and he got to share it with you.

“Please, ” he whispered, “please fuck me y/n, ”

You ran your hand up and down the back of his thigh, stopping to squeeze his butt gently. You took his nipple in your mouth again, drinking more of his milk before kissing him again. This time he returned your affection. You took away the pillow, and he started whining, practically crying at the lack of stimulation. He was already a mess. There was really no need for teasing, but you couldn't help yourself. You tapped the tip of his cock with your pointer finger, watching as he moaned and tried to buck into it.

“So sensitive, ” you said, pulling your hand away, “I think we’re gonna have some fun Shiggy, ”

He nodded, “mommy, please, please touch me, ”

You couldn't deny him any longer. He was practically crying. He’d been so touch-starved for years it wasn't just about how badly he needed to cum it was about how badly he needed not only to be touched but to touch someone else. He hadn't given or received a hug since he was a kid, and even now, he couldn't if he wanted to. Until you joined.

Your first quirk was impressive, but the fact that you had a secondary quirk to cancel out his had to be fate. He decided that very day that you were his soulmate. You were the one he could do all that cheesy romance stuff he’d seen during movie nights when it was Toga’s turn. You were his from the moment he saw you.

“I’ll touch you baby boy, don't worry, ” you said, taking off your shirt.

He stared at your chest as you unclipped your bra. He reached for your boob, seemingly to play with it in his hands but instead pulled you towards his mouth. He sucked harshly, groping your other tit. You groaned as he pinched and twisted your left nipple and sucked on your right one. You weren't even on the bed yet, still knelt beside it. You pushed him away and climbed on top of him, laying him flat on his back.

“You're so rough with mommy, sweetie. You have absolutely no power in this position, no matter how much you'd like to deny it. Now I wonder, ” you said, reaching between his legs, “does this little cow moo?”

You jerked his cock harshly, causing Shigaraki to let out a loud moan.

You whispered in his ear, “It looks like the answer is yes, ”

You kissed his cute little ear, still getting him off with your hands. He came again, painting your hand with cum, but he still wasn't satisfied. You took his nipple in your mouth once again, sucking warm milk from him. He was shuddering and thrashing around on the bed once again, falling apart from the lack of stimulation to his dick.

“Mommy, need inside. Please mommy please, ” he begged.

“Be patient, Shigaraki, ” you said, caressing his cheek, “I'm taking you every way I know how, ”

You crawled down the bed, letting your left hand trail down his body, pinching and twisting his nipple again. You smeared the milk that oozed out over it. When you finally settled between his legs, you took your time admiring and practically worshipping his thighs. You kneaded the flesh in your hands, kissing, licking, and biting them, thrilled you were finally able to get your hands on them. You’d always had a thing for his thighs, not sure why.

When you finally started moving upwards he begged you shamelessly.

“Please put your mouth on my cock, mommy, ” he whined, “please, I'll be good. I’ll be a good boy for you mommy, ”

You bit and kissed his inner thighs more, traveling as high as you could while still ignoring his oozing cock. You had to dig your nails into his thighs to keep Shigaraki from closing them. You finally brushed your lips against his balls, and Shigaraki almost came right then and there. You licked long stripes up his dick, pausing to let your tongue tickle the head. He was holding back now, trying to last so he could feel your mouth for just a little longer. You sucked on the head of his cock, impressed by his willpower and even more excited to break him down.

You took him into your mouth and hollowed your cheek, not caring about the tears streaming down your face or how you gagged whenever you moved your mouth. He pulled you up until your breathing steadied.

“Dont hurt yourself, mommy, ” he said.

He pet your hair as you were still only halfway down his cock. He was so sweet to you, such a good boy. You rolled his balls in one hand, wrapping the other around what he wouldn't allow your mouth to cover, and sucked harshly on what you could. He was starting to break down, finally letting go in your mouth. He came with another strangled cry. If you were honest, his cum tasted awful thanks to his poor diet, but luckily, you knew exactly how to get rid of the taste.

“As much as I love milking your cock, baby, I think there's something else that needs milking too, ” you said.

You brought your head to his chest once again gulping down milk.

You pulled away “you need to est better sweetie. I’ll cook for you from now on, ”

He looked like he was about to object, so you captured his lips in a sweet kiss, letting him know how happy you were that he was here with you and how excited you were to take care of him. You had used your mouth and hands which only left one option, your cunt. Or so he thought.

“Kneel for me by the end of the bed, Shigaraki, ” you said.

He did as he was told, “you can call me Tomura, ” he said.

“Such a pretty name, ” you praised, “now put your cock between my thighs,”

You had lifted your legs as best you could, counting on him to support you the rest of the way.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“I want you to fuck my thighs, ” you explained, “and if you try to slip inside of me, I'm not fucking you properly until tomorrow and you can suffer for the rest of today, ”

He frowned. That was no fair, but he wasn't going to disobey you. He had promised to be a good boy. So he took off your pants and lined himself up with your thighs, moaning as he slid in between them.

“ go ahead, baby boy, make yourself feel good, Tomura” you said.

He nodded, beginning to thrust into your thighs. He had your legs draped over his shoulders and was dangerously close to your aching cunt. He was whimpering the entire time, desperate to finish so he could get inside of you. Feel how warm and wet you were. Letting you squeeze him and milk his cock, how he’d play with your tits as you moaned beneath him. That's all it took for the head of his dick to peek out from between your thighs and paint you with his cum.

“Baby, you did such a good job for mommy, ” you praised him, “fuck me, Tomura, you deserve it, ”

He reached into the drawer of his nightstand, but you stopped him.

“I'm on the pill. You don't need a condom, ” you said.

He shook his head and rifled through the drawer before pulling out a cock ring, sliding it on.

“Wanna make mommy feel good too, ” he said, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, “wanna last so mommy can cum with me, ”

You squeezed him tight, kissing the top of his head.

“You're so sweet, baby, ” you said.

He pulled down your panties, lining himself up, and hovering over you.

“Tell me if it hurts, ” he said.

You nodded, and he pushed in slowly, stretching you, but you didn't want him to stop. Once he was entirely inside you, he stopped. He tried to commit the feeling of you to memory. He began thrusting slowly, focusing all his energy on making you feel good. He reached down to rub your clit, causing you to moan out his name. He tried every angle to try and find the spot you liked. When your back arched and you moaned out, ‘right, there baby,’ he knew he’d found his mark. He kept thrusting, speeding up, watching you come undone. You grabbed his hair, arched your back into his chest, and didn't try to hide your desperate moans.

“Tomura, I'm close, ” you said, pressing his forehead to yours.

He nodded and kept going, whining and whimpering. You groaned, starting to reach your limit. You started grinding against him, chasing your high desperately. You came with a high-pitched whine, juices coating his cock.

“That's it, mommy, please cum on my cock. I love making you feel good, mommy I-, ” he was cut off by his orgasm, crying out to you.

He collapsed on top of you, cum oozing out of your hole.

“Will you go out on a date with me?” he whispered.

You laughed, “yes, of course I'll go out on a date with you, Tomura”

“Thank you, mommy, ” he whispered.

The door swung open.

“Y/n are you dead or-, ” Dabi grinned, “we’re eating good tonight, guys!” he called downstairs, closing the door as everyone cheered.

“Spinner made me go ask if you had a crush on me. I said no, but then he offered to get us all dinner for three nights, ” you explained, “plus you actually liked me back, which in my opinion is much better than anything he could have offered, ”

He chuckled, “I'll have to thank him. You're not getting out of this bed until dinner y/n, hope you know that, ”

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