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allysunny · 4 months

Note

Pls pls pls friends to lovers with an ass load of pining!!! I love the trope where literally everyone but her can see that he’s in love with her and they’re basically dating without the title. She’s in love with him too but a little more guarded/scared. They have fun traditions like a book club, and Bruce gives her the princess treatment. Pls pls pls, I’d literally love you forever if you wrote this

Obliviously in Love | Bale!Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Words: 15k words

Warnings: Friends to lovers, pining, two idiots in love but way too blind to see it, Alfred being a very sassy butler (I love Michael Cane sm), possibly OOC Bruce (I've never written for him before), some angst, love confessions, Christmas! and mistletoe, eventual romance of course! Not beta, we die like Harvey Dent.

A/N: Hey everyone!!! Sorry for the delay, but as I told you, uni was kicking my ass. I'm back now, and hopefully I'll be able to write a lot!

So, this is my first Bale!Bruce request, and I'm so excited, but at the same time I'm super, super nervous because I've never written for this man in my entire life? I love this trilogy so bad and even rewatched all the movies as I was doing this, because I wanted to make sure I got him right. Sure, he's a vigilante and a billionaire and a supposed playboy, but he's also just a man, and I sort of wanted to explore that.

There's so many layers to this man, it is insane. If there's anything OOC about him, please do let me know. I swear to god I tried my best, and I hope you like the finished result.

This is my longest word so far - I'm so sorry! It was supposed to be kinda short and sweet but I just ran with it! I don't know if it was for the better or worst, but I hope you guys like it nevertheless. Again, I'm sorry if it's somewhat OOC, I tried to get everyone's personalities just right. I'm scared of not doing these movies justice. I also took some liberties with this - Bruce and Rachel don't have feelings for each other, Bruce often goes to charity galas, etc. Small things.

Also, it's set somewhat in between Batman Begins and The Dark Knight!

Anyways, enjoy!

Bruce Wayne was a lonely man.

Not that he minded, really.

Ever since he was a child, he knew most people were after him and his family for the money. Family friends cashing in favours done ages ago, things as small as having once lent his father an umbrella, women pretending to befriend his mother to accompany her whenever she went shopping, kids at school getting closer to him only to get a peek at the famed Wayne Manor and all the wonders it hid inside.

He'd rather be alone than have such leeches around him, surrounding him like vultures, waiting for an opening.

Kids who'd mocked him would apologise profusely days later, having learned about his family, offering their friendship. Once Bruce made it clear he had no intentions of inviting anyone to his place (he was just shy, really), they'd take back their so called “friendship”.

He was better off without such people.

They were few, the people he could trust. And even those he called his “friends”, he didn't trust completely. His childhood best friend, Rachel, had grown up and busied herself at the DA’s office. She reached out to him after he’d returned after all those years in training, but she was a busy woman, and Bruce had found a new passion himself – patrolling the streets of Gotham dressed up as a bat. They would talk often, but it simply wasn’t the same. They were still friends of course – childhood could link two people – but he’d changed, and so had she. No matter how well they got along, they were changed people.

So, he was back to square one, with no people to truly confide in.

There was, after all, a reason only Alfred knew of his secret identity.

No, Bruce Wayne wasn't a stranger to loneliness.

He preferred the peace and quiet of his home office to the loud ambiences of the parties thrown by pretentious people who wanted to pass by as charitable, and found that sometimes, being by himself was a better option.

Bruce Wayne could count with his hands how many “friends” he had, and how many were simply greedy bloodsuckers trying to get to his fortune.

All but you, though.

Never you.

Bruce met you a few years ago, at the bakery you used to work at.

He wasn't a regular - hell, he didn't usually eat at places like those. Bruce Wayne, the Prince of Gotham, dined at the best restaurants - a truth universally acknowledged.

But after being stuck in traffic for about thirty minutes (he'd sent Alfred on a makeshift vacation, having miraculously been able to convince the old man to take some time for himself), he decided to exit the cab and go for a stroll.

It'd been a stressing day, with about a hundred reports coming in for him to sign at Wayne Enterprises, the prototypes for his new motorcycle had proved to be a failure, and he was simply exhausted. A walk would do him good, clear his head.

That's when he walked by the bakery, noticing the colourfully decorated cupcakes and pastries on the shelves. The pastel-coloured frostings seemed far too pretty to eat, and curiosity got the best of him, compelling him to go inside and purchase one.

That's when he first saw you.

You took a while to take his order, quickly informing him you were working all by yourself. One of your coworkers was in labour, the other on vacation. You were baking, cleaning and waitressing on your own.

Bruce was surprised, to say the least. You were taking over each station, keeping calm even under pressure and tending to each task diligently.

When asked who baked the frosted treats, you smiled and told him you baked those yourself. Apparently, it was your first time exposing them, the owner of the bakery finally giving you some leeway to try your own cakes and sweets.

“No one's tried them yet, though,” you said, sheepishly. “People don’t really want to try anything new. They’re scared my food is going to suck. I keep telling myself they’re just scared of change, you know. To keep my spirits high.”

“I hear that,” Bruce replied. If he knew anything about people, it was that they were all terrified of the unknown. “It’s Gotham – what can you do? You bump into lunatics every other day. I’ll have the one on the shop window, the one with the pink frosting.”

Your eyes sparkled then, and Bruce swore he’d do anything to see them shine again and again.

“Really?” you asked, a hopeful smile playing in your lips.

“Absolutely. It looks good.”

You gave him an enthusiastic nod and went to retrieve the cupcake, placing it on top of a small place along with a fork. He paid for the treat along with a cup of coffee and sat down on a nearby table.

Unlocking his phone, he found a few messages from Alfred, asking him if he hadn't burnt down the Manor yet. Sure, maybe he couldn't cook nor clean nor take care of himself that well, but that didn't warrant a fire brigade to go check up on him, now did it?

Burned to the ground, he texted back in a joking manner. All that's left are the red slippers I gave to you last Christmas. Hadn't you lost them? It's a miracle.

Alfred replied just as quickly.

Should've let them burn too. Hideous things.

Bruce chuckled, assuring his trusted butler all was well, and locking his phone once again.

If he looked from the corner of his eye, he could see you, nervously chewing on your lip while you looked at his plate expectantly.

Right, he thought. The cupcake.

Bruce tasted the coffee first, deciding it was far better than whatever he was drinking at his office, and slowly cut the cupcake with his fork (because why would he use his hands). HIs eyes widened once he finally bit into it.

It was good, really good. It tasted like strawberries - not that artificial strawberry flavoured crap he was sure was in most of the food out there - actual strawberries.

The frosting was sugary, but not too much that it became nauseous, and the mix of flavours melted in his mouth.

You’d approached him, breath hitched as you awaited his verdict.

“So?” You asked, after a while, giving him an apologetic smile. “How is it?”

“It’s good.”

“Really?” You graced him with the brightest of smiles, holding onto your little notepad. “You think so?”

“I know so.” Way to go, Bruce. Not corny at all. You’re the man.

Pulling the chair next to him, you sighed in relief and sat down.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me. I was so scared no one was gonna like them.”

“The people of Gotham are idiots if they don’t want to try these.” He took another bite of his cupcake and your smile only got bigger.

“Well, you said it. It’s Gotham. Even something as simple as a different coffee order will get their panties in a twist. Look at how everyone reacted to that Bat guy. He takes out a few criminals and cleans the streets, and suddenly he’s the bad guy?” you inquire.

“Bat guy?” Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you know! Bat guy! They’re calling him the Batman. You’ve probably seen him on TV. Black cape, black cowl, black, well, clothes?”

“Ah,” he nodded, “The Batman, yes. I might have heard of him.” Might have. “What’s his deal anyway? I think the police are calling the guy a criminal.”

You scoffed, placing a strand of hair behind your ear. “A criminal? The guy’s doing a better job than most cops. I think they’re just jealous. And pissed that someone’s not up for briberies.”

Bruce nodded, before turning to his cupcake. You thought what Batman did was right. He brimmed with pride.

“I don’t know – he sounds like your typical Arkham resident to me. Dressed like a bat, running around with a black cape?” It was practically wired into his brain by now, the way he attempted to detach his Bruce Wayne persona from his Batman one. Even if he’d just met you, even if you seemed genuine, he couldn’t help but keep up the façade. “They should probably lock him up.”

“That’s nonsense!” you exclaimed. “He’s the only one willing to do something right for this city. The only one who’s not being compensated by turning a blind eye to criminals like half of the GCPD are. The streets are safer with him around.”

So, he made you feel safe.

Well, not him – Batman did.

Bottom line was, he made you feel safe.

And wasn’t that the reason for all of this? To make Gotham a better place? To clean the streets, to give people some hope in amidst all the chaos and darkness? Wasn’t that his goal – to give Gotham citizens their city back to them, and allow them to live unruled by fear?

“Anyway - I’m sorry, here I am, sitting next to you while you probably want to eat by yourself. Gosh, I’m so sorry. Taking care of the shop by myself makes me feel a tad lonely.” You gave him another apologetic smile (although this one did not reach your eyes), and got up, hurrying behind the counter.

For a few moments, Bruce sat in silence, eating his cupcake, and sipping from his coffee. Good stuff – nothing like the ones Alfred prepared for him, but still good.

When he glanced back up, he watched as you quickly washed some dishes, brow furrowed in concentration. He took you all in, the way you carefully rinsed every dish, ensuring it was stable on the tray nearby before moving onto the next one. Once or twice, you looked up, observing the city through the windows. He saw you sigh softly and get back to work.

To say he was intrigued was an understatement. A big one.

It wasn’t only that you were strikingly beautiful – that helped too, quite a lot – but there was something more to you that Bruce couldn’t really pinpoint and wanted to get to know more of. He was tired of fake people. Of all the fake smiles and fake laughter and fake parties and having to pretend he was someone he simply wasn’t. It was all for the greater good, sure, but hiding behind a mask was draining. No one knew that better than Bruce Wayne.

Before he realised it, he’d stood up, placing his plate and cup on top of the counter. The soft “clack” of it made you turn around and your eyes widened slightly.

“Oh – “ you mumbled. “It’s okay, I usually just do that.”

“Lifting a cup and a plate won’t kill me, I assure you.”

You chuckled and took the dishes, turning to the sink.

“You’re not at all like what people say.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not like they describe you,” you said with a small shrug. A strand of hair fell from behind your ear and Bruce’s hand twitched slightly, perhaps wishing to tuck it back himself.

“So you know who I am?” he asked, a curious smile forming in his lips. He wasn’t expecting to be completely ignorant of him – hell, it’s impossible to be unaware of his existence when you live in Gotham.

“I have a television and friends who love gossip magazines. It’s preposterous to think of a person who hasn’t come across your face, considering it’s slapped in nearly every tabloid ever.” You chuckled, soaking his plate. “And there was the matter of your credit card – I thought American Express was a myth.”

Bruce remained silent, which prompted you to go on.

“Everyone says you’re an arrogant jerk – “ The words come out of your mouth before you can process them, and he chuckles mentally, finding the way you stumbled over your words quite amusing. “I mean, that’s what they say – I’m not saying that you’re one, I just – I’m just repeating what’s been told to me. Anyway, yeah. You don’t seem like that at all.”

“And what makes you say that? We’ve spoken for all but five minutes,” he cocked an eyebrow, eagerly awaiting your answer.

You think for a while, gripping the towel at your hands and shrug again.

“I don’t know.” You turn to him. “Call it intuition, but I just felt like you were being genuine. I mean, you don’t have a bazillion models hanging off your arms – and it looked like you walked all the way here. No fancy sports car like the ones in the magazines either.” Another shrug. “You just seemed like a random guy when you walked in. No fancy titles whatsoever.”

Just a random guy.

Sometimes it felt like such a thing was unattainable for Bruce.

In front of the cameras, he had to be spoiled, rich, reckless playboy Bruce who bought hotels on a whim, hung around with hot models and spent his money on useless luxuries such as cars and yachts. When no one was watching, he had the weight of Gotham in his shoulders as Batman, sacrificing his mind and body every night just to make sure his people were safe.

It was impossible for Bruce to be just a random guy, no matter how much he wanted to.

But the way you said it – like you truly believed it – made him think twice about it.

You weren’t grovelling at his feet. Nor were you pretending not to know him as many others had done, in order to appear mysterious and different, and therefore catch his attention. No, you were just being you – or what he hoped was you. You knew who he was, admitted to seeing his face and knowing of his affairs, but that didn’t stop you from treating him like a normal person.

Just a random guy.

“Or maybe I’m just biased because you liked my cupcakes.” There it was again, that lovely smile of yours.

And you were funny too.

“I’ll admit, that was my tactic all along.” Bruce allowed a hint of playfulness to tint his voice, and your smile widened at that.

“Your secret is safe with me, Mr. Wayne.”

“Please, just Bruce.”

“Alright then. Your secret is safe with me, Bruce.” You smiled and went back to cleaning the counter. (You half expected him to leave without saying a word – why’d a billionaire entertain your company for more than a few minutes? – and were surprised when he stayed.)

“I’m sorry if I’m crossing a line here, but,” he started, “Would you like to join me for lunch one of these days?”

You eyed him curiously and cocked your head to the side, giving him a cheeky smile.

“Me? Really?”

“Exactly you.”

“Why? I don’t exactly belong with your people, Bruce – whoever they might be.”

“I was actually just hoping I’d get some free cupcakes.”

At this, you snorted out loud, covering your mouth with your hand. The other clients in the bakery looked at you with a slightly disgusted face, and it only made you laugh louder.

Once you stopped giggling (and after having wiped some tears from your eyes), you nodded and turned to him.

“Alright, fine. Lunch sounds great. Although – I’m sure you’re followed everywhere. And I don’t really want to be the latest gossip magazine cover.” You crossed your arms. Bruce nodded in understanding. After all, he knew how troublesome the media could be, especially when they were looking for any crumbs that might get them any insight into someone’s life.

(Un)fortunately for him, they couldn’t see past the playboy persona.

“I’ll take care of that – don’t worry.” Was his honest response. “Let’s say it’s easy for me to… become invisible.”

You leaned against the counter, smile ever so present.

“And how are you going to do that? Gonna wear a cap and sunglasses? A wig? Do we get to wear disguises? Maybe you could wear a mask!” Funny.

“I’ll just leave the American Express at home. Do you think that new Pizza place everyone’s been talking about accepts hundreds?” Bruce joked.

Your snort resonated through the bakery again, and the couple that had glanced at you earlier left, shaking their heads and muttering something about “decorum”.

The rest was history.

You and Bruce had become inseparable from that day onward.

Turns out that around you, he could be just a random guy, like he always wanted.

He started going to your bakery more and more, and convinced your boss to let you experiment with your cupcakes however you wanted.

“How the hell did you manage that?” you asked him, mouth open in wonder. “She told me I had full control of the menu! Two weeks ago, she said she didn’t want to try my sweets!”

“I’m very persuasive,” he replied, biting into a banana flavoured muffin – one of your more recent experiments. “It’s a bit chunky. Kind of bland, doesn’t melt on your mouth like the others do.”

“Yeah, I think I went overboard with the flour…” you mumble, writing something down on your notepad. “Anyways, how persuasive can you be? This woman has drunk the same cup of coffee for like, 40 years. She hates change.”

“Let’s just say I worked my regular Wayne charm.”

At that, you rolled your eyes and hit him with your towel but couldn’t hide the smile that graced your lips.

He’d stop by every day after work, eager to try out your new recipes and have a nice chat. It was freeing to have someone he could call his friend, with whom he could have conversations that weren’t about his job, his money, or his other affairs. It felt nice to be able to share things with you, things he couldn’t find it in himself to share with other people.

It took him a while, but he eventually told you things about himself. Slowly.

He told you about his parents, how much he looked up to his father and how he adored his mother. He told you about his childhood, playing in the gardens of his Manor or watching his father fiddle with the stethoscope, hoping one day he could make a difference just like him. He told you how sometimes he would just watch his mother apply makeup in her face, marvelling at how beautiful she looked. Other women of the high society always looked like they had this world and the next worth of makeup on their faces, but his mother was able to enhance all her natural features with a simple eye pencil or some lipstick.

“Makeup shouldn’t be used to turn yourself into something new,” she’d once told him, applying some sort of clear powder on her face. “Just to complement the beauty you already have.”

He found it easy to relate to that. Not the makeup, necessarily, but the whole “turning into a new person”. Batman was no different than him, nor was he someone different. He just brought out Bruce’s biggest desires, to keep Gotham safe.

In return, you told him about your childhood. About your first years in school, your friends and family. You told him about your passions, your wishes. How you wanted to travel the world and read as many books as possible. How you liked to laze around some Saturdays but couldn’t stay home and just had to get up and leave in others.

Bruce found the duality in you quite entrancing.

Some days, you’d be running around the Manor, goofing around with Alfred, and whipping up new recipes with him, the both of you jamming to old jazz that played on the radio – Alfred had been teaching you swing, and you enjoyed spinning around the room with him as lively tunes played.

(In fact, Bruce had walked in on you and him dancing a few times, and couldn’t help but lean against the doorway, watching and you laughed loudly and tried not to fall whenever his butler spun you around.)

It also went without saying that Alfred was over the moon now that his master no longer seemed to be alone. You might only be one person, but the Manor came alive whenever you were in it, and he relished in knowing Bruce finally had someone he could trust besides himself.

At first, Bruce thought of you as a friend. Someone he could confide in, someone to have a good time with and relax. But as weeks turned to months, he found himself developing stronger feelings. It wasn’t about “having fun” and relaxing anymore, it was now about seeing you, making sure you were alright, listening to your every thought and feelings.

He thought it was normal, though. After all, aren’t friends supposed to care for each other and be eager to spend time together? After all, it had been a while since he had friends. At least ones that spoke to him on the regular, that were there for him. This whole thing was new to him. So, he kept these feelings hidden, convinced they were nothing but the norm, enjoying whatever silly activities you engaged in.

You two had, after all, your own little rituals.

You loved reading – always had, and believed to continue doing so until you were dead and buried. And despite not having a lot of time to do so, Bruce did too. So, it wasn’t long before you two created your own little book club along with Alfred.

You would prepare a batch of cookies, Alfred would make some tea, and Bruce would wait by the fireplace in the living room, since there was really nothing he could contribute with but his insight on the books you were reading.

“So, what’d you think?” he asked, taking a sip from his tea, and placing the mug on the coffee table by his feet.

“I think it was terrible.” You replied.

Bruce nearly spat the drink in his mouth.

“Excuse me?!”

“I said what I said – it was a terrible book.”

“I think you’re the first person ever to call The Great Gatsby a ‘terrible book’.” He raised an eyebrow and looked at Alfred, who was intent on hearing whatever you were going to say next. He too was quite curious, but he had an inkling he knew where you were going with this.

You just shrugged your shoulders and brought your legs to your chair, sitting on top of them. You felt at home in Wayne Manor. Bruce had told you to make yourself comfortable after the third time you visited, and you wasted no time in doing so.

“Jay Gatsby is one pretentious motherfucker,” you say.

“Language!” Alfred tutted.

“Sorry – I meant; Jay Gatsby is one pretentious douchebag.” You bowed your head towards Alfred and the butler nodded in acknowledgment.

“Wait – why?”

“Are you kidding me?” All you could do was scoff. “Gatsby is an obsessive narcissist, an egocentric pathological liar who cares about no one else other than himself, and much probably, a psychopath.”

Bruce was perplexed. Very much so.

“I – I – well. I see.”

“And the way he objectifies Daisy throughout the whole book – he doesn’t even love her! He loves the idea of her. He’s a jerk.”

Bruce couldn’t even interrupt you, because you were on a spree, gesticulating with your arms and talking fast.

“But let’s be honest here, it’s not like she loves him either.”

“She doesn’t?”

“Of course not! She’s a shallow, materialistic, spoiled brat and I can’t stand her!” You finished your little speech by taking a bite out of a cookie and crossing your arms.

“Huh. Right.” Bruce said, grabbing his copy of the book. “Well, I thought it was a great book. And I don’t think Gatsby is any of the things you said.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really. I think he is a misunderstood soul.”

You scoffed. Again.

“He’s a misunderstood ass – “

“Language – “

“He is Alfred!”

“Yes, but you aren’t, and I would like to keep this household clean, for dear Master and Missus Wayne’s sake.” He replied casually, giving you that look you’d learn to interpret as “do not test me you silly little baker, for I am British and have the high ground”, and to which you just stuck your tongue out.

Bruce ignored the both of you and continued.

“And, well, I think he truly did love Daisy.”

“That’s impossible.”

“No, no, and here’s why, he did everything for her.”

“Name one thing.”

“Well, he waited five whole years for her. I think that’s rather romantic. He went great lengths to impress Daisy and win her love. The parties, the money, his whole persona – it wasn’t him, but he did it all for Daisy.” Bruce explained calmly. Alfred looked at him with raised eyebrows and just sipped from his teacup quietly.

“Bruce, the whole thing was a circus.” You reached in front of you to grab another cookie and took a bite out of it, missing the way your friend’s gaze dropped to your lips and then returned to your eyes in just a millisecond. “He was just showing off.”

“Perhaps,” Bruce said, “But perhaps he was just trying to be someone worthy of her. I’m sure love can make people do crazy things.” He wasn’t one to talk. It’s not like he knew what “love” was. He’d crushed on Rachel as kids, but that’s all it was, a silly childhood crush.

Perhaps the love he had for his city could count. He did do crazy things for it. Dressing up as a bat was an example.

You nodded your head a few times, pondering his answer.

“Maybe, yeah. But I don’t think so. If he loved her, he should’ve just said it. There was no need for all the show.”

Alfred raised his eyebrows once again. A very you-ish reply. He was enjoying this immensely.

Bruce replayed her words in his head. He should’ve said it. Surely, it wasn’t that easy. Jay Gatsby wasn’t your average man. He was a mystery. He had secrets and things he needed to hide. It wasn’t as easy as just walking up to Daisy and telling her “I love you”. It wasn’t that simple. “You think so?” he asked.

“Well, yeah! Absolutely – I mean, why complicate things?” you replied. “He should’ve just dropped the luxuries, the parties, he should’ve just stopped with all of the eccentric millionaire thing, looked her in the eyes and say, ‘I love you’. Simple.”

"Absolutely! I mean, why complicate things? Just look someone in the eyes and say, ‘I love you.’ Simple.”

“Simple, huh?”

You nodded, taking another sip from your tea – you drank it sickeningly sweet, with lots of honey, while he preferred one or two spoons of sugar.

“Yeah. Simple. No need for the fancy parties, and mysterious acts. Just be genuine.”

“That’s an interesting perspective,” he mumbled. “But sometimes people have reasons for not saying what’s in their hearts. Sometimes they must hide their feelings.” It was true. You didn’t know he was Batman – you couldn’t. He needed to keep you safe. All you knew was that he worked a lot, plenty of times exhausting himself and arriving home super late. It was for the best.

Alfred hummed thoughtfully, which earned him a curious look from the both of you.

“Oh, nothing, nothing. Please, do continue,” he said, gesturing for you to go on.

You gave him a weird look but simply turned to face Bruce once again.

“Reasons? Like what?”

Bruce couldn’t look you in the eye now. He shrugged and got suddenly very interested by the coffee table by his feet.

“Fear, maybe. Fear of what might happen if they open up. Fear of losing someone precious.”

You hummed, “Well, in my book, it’s always better to be honest and take the risk. Life’s too short for illusions. If Gatsby had just said it, maybe things would’ve been different. Who knows? But I still think he was one pompous son of a bitch.” You leaned back in your chair with a smug grin and finished the rest of your tea.

Alfred just excused himself and made his way towards the kitchen.

You certainly did bring some life into this once empty house.

You were lazing around in a Sunday afternoon, mindlessly scrolling your phone as a rerun of a show you liked played on TV. Even after a few years, it could still get some laughs out of you, and you’d look at the screen and smile.

All of a sudden, the couch dipped next to you.

Bruce had jumped over it, and landed next to you, sitting down comfortably, as if parkouring around Wayne Manor was something he did on the regular.

“Shit! Holy – Bruce!” You nearly jumped out of your seat, clutching your chest. Sometimes you wondered if Bruce wasn’t some sort of ninja. Being able to hide himself and be so silent wasn’t normal, and at times, to be frank, a little bit creepy.

He acted as if nothing was wrong and turned to you.

“Friday night, charity gala, you and me,” he said, matter-of-factly, as if he’d simply asked you what the weather was like outside.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, the Carringtons are throwing a big party this Friday. It’s supposed to be this big fundraiser. The profits will go for new police facilities. As if those corrupt idiots needed them…” He sighed. “And clearly, Bruce Wayne must attend. And, as expected, he has to bring someone.”

You whined and threw your head back in frustration. You’d been to a couple of galas with Bruce. Most of them were dreadfully boring, filled with fake people whose only purpose there was to flaunt their money and pretend to care about whatever topics seemed most controversial. You hated them. The fake smiles, the gross men leering on you, the women shamelessly throwing themselves at Bruce (not that you minded. After all, you two were just friends. It just made you uncomfortable that they were so forward about his advances. Clearly, he wasn’t alone. He had you. Could they not see it? But of course, you two were just friends. Which meant you weren’t jealous. You just felt sorry for them, and extremely uncomfortable whenever they looked at, spoke to, or touched him. Duh.)

“I can’t go.”

Bruce grimaced.

“Why?”

“I’m busy. Sorry Bruce, I have plans.” What a liar.

Your friend smirked and nudged his head towards the kitchen.

“Alfred checked your schedule – you’re free for the next two weeks.”

Your jaw dropped and you looked back at the kitchen, where Alfred innocently prepared a few sandwiches.

“Damn him! I swear that man must’ve been a British spy!” you muttered, shaking your head.

“So, are you coming with me?” Bruce pressed on.

“I can’t – I have to return some videotapes.” You replied smugly.

Bruce gave you a dry laugh and threw a pillow in your direction, which you failed to dodge.

“Very funny. I’m serious – I can’t go by myself. Look, I know what this is going to sound like, but the Carringtons are only doing this to show off. They don’t care about the police; they want to show Gotham just how rich their grandfather’s money has made them. They’ve been around for years and never once donated – why now?”

“Just because you have to go, doesn’t mean that I have!” you too threw a pillow at him, but as always, his reflexes were on point, and he managed to catch it mid-air.

“Look, you’d be doing me a huge favour.”

“I have literally nothing to wear.”

Bruce gave you a blank stare – that excuse did not stick anymore, not after he’d bought you a different dress for each party he had taken you to (“Think of it as a thank you gift”, he said).

“Just take a model. Or an actress. Or some other celebrity. You know me Bruce, I don’t belong with those people. They’re not my crowd.” You grabbed another pillow and prepared to throw it at him.

“I can’t stand another night of pretending to spend my free time buying hotels and yachts.” Bruce said your name softly and you let your guard down, lowering your arm. “It’s not me, and you know it.” You looked into those chocolate brown eyes that seemed to have soften – those eyes of his always made you melt, and you often found yourself saying yes to his every whim.

You pondered your choices.

He could take a model or an actress. The headlines would love speculating who the hell was Bruce Wayne messing around with this time. He’d have to pretend to be someone he was not for a whole evening – though you didn’t know why; only that, for some reason, he had a reputation to upkeep – and the next morning you’d wake up and seethe as you watched the shots paparazzi got of your best friend and some random floozy slobbering on top of him.

Or, you could go with him. It’d be a pain in the ass to pretend to like all of those people and to interact with those phony idiots who thought money was worth anything and would try their best to snake their ways in Bruce’s close circle. But you’d spend a nice evening with your friend, wear a pretty dress, drink some expensive champagne and be able to laugh at everyone else with him. There were worse fates than that, you were sure.

“Fine,” you sighed, “I’ll come with you.”

Bruce did a small “yes” gesture with his arm, and then grabbed a nearby pillow. “Now, where were we?”

“Oh – OH don’t you dare, Bruce Wayne!” You lifted your arm once again, but before you could throw the pillow in his direction, he’d grabbed your arm and pulled you to him. You fell on top of his body, hands on either side of his head as they bore the weight of your body. Your face was inches away from his, and all you could do was stare into those brown eyes that had you so weak.

You blinked repeatedly, before quickly getting up. Your cheeks were flaring up and you grabbed your phone, standing up from the couch.

Bruce, on his end, was speechless. He watched as you stood up, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“I – I should go. I need to… yeah, I gotta – I gotta do something. I’ll see you later.” You mumbled, and within seconds, you were out the door.

When you were gone, Alfred left the kitchen and walked towards the couch where Bruce was sitting, still silently staring at the wall.

“Is everything alright, Master Wayne?” he asked, although he didn’t really need an answer. He knew exactly what was going on with him. After all, he’d raised this boy like his own son for years.

“Yes,” Bruce cleared his throat, nodding. “Yes, yes, I am. Everything’s fine. How about those sandwiches you were making?” He tried changing the topic, but it was too late.

As Alfred walked back to the kitchen, he couldn’t help but think that he should probably schedule an optometrist appointment for his master. After all, one can’t help but be concerned when such a smart, capable man was so blind to matters of the heart. Almost as blind as a bat, one could say. He’d keep this joke for later. Bruce would hate it. Even better.

Funnily enough, Alfred wasn’t the only one who thought Bruce was blind to his feelings.

In fact, it seemed like everyone could see how smitten the Wayne billionaire was with you.

When you two went out, he would look at you with this sparkle in his eyes, looking at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

You walked into the party, arm linked with his, and it was as if the whole world stopped to look at you two.

Everyone knew about your existence – it wasn’t the first time you accompanied Bruce to parties – Bruce Wayne and his close friend. Friend. Yeah, sure. If the glances he stole were any indication, the Wayne heir was nothing but completely enamoured with you. In fact, it was incredible how much he’d changed. His whole attitude changed when he was accompanied by you. No longer was he the reckless billionaire who drank too much and humiliated himself, but the elegant man who liked to engage in conversations (as long as the topics were interesting) and had a heart of gold.

Yes, everyone seemed to spot the change in demeanour whenever you two were together.

“Bruce!” A voice could be heard from the distance, and Rachel Dawes made her way towards the both of you. She smiled and spoke your name once she noticed you were the one accompanying her childhood friend, before hugging you. “Oh, it’s so nice to see you here!”

You hugged her back and gave her a genuine smile. You’d met Rachel before more than a few times – she was a lovely young woman with a great sense of justice, and you were sure she was going to do great things for Gotham’s wellbeing. You also enjoyed her company greatly, since she had once told you all of the embarrassing stories about Bruce’s childhood. “I had no idea you were going to be here!”

“Yeah, well,” she looked around and smiled, seemingly looking for someone. “I was just as surprised as you were.”

Then, a very familiar face emerged from the crowd, calling out “Rachel!” and walking to her side.

“There you were – you left so abruptly; I thought something was wrong.” The man said, before turning to look at you and Bruce. You took him in. Dirty blond hair and a familiar cleft chin. You furrowed your eyebrows, before it finally clicked in.

“You’re Harvey Dent – I’ve seen you on TV before,” you said, and he smiled in acknowledgement.

“That would be me, yes.” He put forward his hand, and you shook it, introducing yourself.

Harvey then turned to look at Bruce, extending his hand to him.

“And you must be Bruce Wayne. Rachel talks about you a lot.”

Bruce shook it and nodded.

“Hopefully she hasn’t disclosed everything about me, otherwise I’d be ruined.”

The two men chuckled, and you took that opportunity to look at Rachel. You looked from her to Harvey, opened your mouth and wiggled your eyebrows, earning a laugh from her. Rachel moved to your side as Bruce and Harvey spoke about Gotham and took your arm.

“Well, well, Miss Dawes. Is there anything you’d like to tell us?” you asked in a hushed tone, still wiggling your eyebrows up and down. “How’d you meet?”

“At work. Harvey is running for district attorney. One thing led to another, and…” she trailed off, and you nudged her torso with your arm.

“And now you’re shagging future attorney Harvey Dent. Look at you go!”

Rachel covered her mouth with her hands and supressed a scoff.

“You’re unbelievable, and I never want to hear those words coming from your mouth ever! It’s just a casual thing, we’ve only gone on a few dates. Besides, you’re the one attending a charity gala with Gotham’s most eligible bachelor. I think every woman in this room has you on a death list.”

“Pftt,” you waved your hand dismissively, “You know we’re just friends. Nothing for those women to be jealous about.”

“Ah, I see. You’re just friends.” Rachel nodded, feigning seriousness in her voice.

“Yes, we are. Stop with that face!”

“What face?”

“That face you always do,” you motioned towards her face, nearly pouting. “We are! And that’s the end of the discussion! I don’t even know why we’re talking about my non-existent relationship with Bruce when you’re probably going to be First Lady someday – this is huge.”

Rachel swatted you with her purse and returned to Harvey’s side before giving you a cheeky smile – it felt nice to have a girl friend you could talk to in these scenarios. Usually, it was just you and Bruce, which, however pleasant, wasn’t the same thing as having a girl in there. You were happy to catch her off work – Rachel seemed like a different person at the office. While there, she maintained a strong and serious attitude, you were happy to see her when she had no work business to worry about and could simply be a girl with you.

“Well, I’m afraid I’ve wasted too much of your time, Mr. Wayne,” Harvey said, shaking Bruce’s hand again. “It was a pleasure to meet Rachel’s oldest friend.” He then turned to you, “And a pleasure to meet you too, Miss.” “Likewise,” you replied.

Bruce nodded.

“Of course. I’ll be sure to send you a nice bottle of Chardonnay when you’re elected district attorney,” he said in his best careless billionaire voice, and nodded at Rachel before the two walked away. “Who would’ve thought,” he muttered to you, beckoning a butler who was carrying a tray of champagne glasses close to him.

“Well, I think they’re lovely together,” you smiled and grabbed a glass, smiling once the liquid hit your lips. Champagne was always welcome.

“Well, you think everyone looks lovely together. You’re a sap.” You laugh at Bruce’s comment and hold onto his arm. He brings you close, absentmindedly, and the two of you walk around the party, occasionally being stopped by the average donor.

After eating some entrees and mingling with the guests, soft music started to play and ring throughout the room. You looked up, pleasantly surprised, and tugged at Bruce’s arm.

“Come on,”

You didn’t have to tell him twice – he was growing tired of pretending to share the same interests as these vile people. He wanted a respite from keeping the charade up, so he gladly took your hand and led you to the middle of what had become the dancefloor. You two weren’t the only ones in there, a couple more pairs having decided to dance.

Bruce gently held your waist and pulled you close to him, his other hand coming to lift yours.

“Thank you,” he spoke, ignoring the way everyone’s eyes glued onto the two of you.

“I could see you were about to actually punch that man right in the face,” you chuckled, looking at the person in question. He was a middle-aged man who could probably stand to lose a few pounds for the sake of his health, who was trying to talk Bruce into introducing him a couple of models. You just had to come to the rescue, because Bruce actually looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel. Thankfully, he was a good actor and simply promised the man he would surely hook him up with the woman of his dreams.

“I think it goes without saying I’m not introducing jack shit to him. I’m pretty sure he’s assaulted his female employers. I should have someone investigate it.”

“My, my. Bruce Wayne, ever the White Knight.” You smiled, and you could swear that for some minutes, the entire world faded away as the soft melodies of Camille Saint-Saëns filled the air.

He snorted at that but did not say anything.

The two of you kept dancing. You found looking into his eyes extremely hard, so you avoided his gaze, looking straight ahead at behind his shoulder continuously.

“I still haven’t told you how beautiful you look tonight,” Bruce finally broke the silence between you two, and you returned his gaze. He’d bought you a floor-length black John Galliano gown with delicate lace trim and a bias cut, and you had actually screamed into your pillow once you saw it – it was far too pretty.

“Thank you,” you reply, brushing some invisible dust from his shoulders. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Bruce lowered his voice and looked you in the eyes, making your breath hitch in your throat.

“I mean it. You do look stunning.”

The two of you stopped dancing for a few moments, and you were unable to look away from his almost magnetic gaze. Time seemed to stand still, and you gripped his shoulder tighter, to make sure you were real, and he was real, and this whole ordeal was real.

He was just about to speak again, when you were interrupted by a loud, shrill voice.

“Mr. Wayne! Oh, what a pleasure to have you here!”

You quickly pulled away from him as Catherine Carrington, a woman in her mid-40s with long, blonde hair approached the both of you and placed two loud kisses on either side of his cheeks. You looked away, trying to figure out how to properly breathe again, and fanned yourself with your hands.

Harrold Carrington, Catherine’s husband walked to her side and shook Bruce’s hand, far too interested in talking to you. You stifled a laugh – whoever was in charge of his wig had tone a terrible job, because it was clear as day his hairline was receding, and the hair he had on was fake.

“Ah, you must be the mysterious friend everyone has been talking about. We’ve seen you around a few times, haven’t we Miss? But I don’t think we’ve properly met – I’m Harrold Carrington. And may I say, you look splendid this evening.”

None of the Carringtons seemed interested in their spouses. Catherine was fawning over Bruce, and Harrold’s eyes lingered far too long on your exposed collarbone and cleavage. So much so, that you turned from him uncomfortably. Bruce was quick to notice your discomfort, and pulled you next to him once again, wrapping a protective arm around your waist.

“I’d appreciate it if you could keep your eyes on the lady’s face, as opposed to her chest, Mr. Carrington,” he said with a smile that you could only identify as fake, and that smug voice he used when he was feeling particularly cocky.

All of the colour drained from Harrold’s face, and he stuttered, trying to form a coherent sentence – which he failed miserably. “I – I, well – I wasn’t – I would never! I – I was just –“

Bruce faced Catherine once again and gave her another fake smile.

“Lovely party Mrs. Carrington. Very nice of you to raise money for the Gotham Police Department. Very charitable, indeed. And the champagne is just splendid. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I heard someone was eating caviar, and it’s not a real party without it, now is it?”

Effortlessly, he brought you away from the couple.

Once you were out of sight, he looked at you with a worried expression.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah – he was just creepy. Shit, I hate galas.”

“Tell me about it,” Bruce sighed, before shaking his head. “How long have we been here for?”

“About two hours.”

“How about we ditch at three? I think it’d be a crime to abandon this party now. Especially when you look this dazzling.”

He was giving you that look once again, the one you couldn’t quite decipher, and you felt butterflies in your stomach.

Bruce, on the other hand, was freaking out. You looked lovely, even more so than usual. He’d been dancing with you, and all was perfect, and then that hag Catherine had to go and ruin everything.

Was it too much to ask for a quiet dance with his friend?

Friend.

The word tasted wrong in his mouth.

No, you weren’t his friend. At least not anymore.

He thought about your dance moments earlier. How you’d held onto him, far too shy to look him in the eye, lips slightly parted and eyes sparkly. He thought of how easily you leaned into his touch and how he liked having you by his side.

He thought of how much he enjoyed spending time with you, how much he laughed in your presence, how free he felt when he was with you. He could be himself, something that he felt he couldn’t be anywhere else. You were his safe haven. You were everything.

It was that night Bruce Wayne realised he was in love with you.

One time the both of you went out to do some Christmas shopping.

(“In November?” Bruce had asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Christmas sales have already started! And I bet everyone’s going to start super soon, so we need to get to it!” Was your reply. Bruce could only sigh and agree, like he always did when it came to you.)

Besides, it was the first Christmas you’d be able to spend together after 2 years of friendship. The last two had Bruce way too busy with his company (at least that’s what he told you. In reality, he had been tracking down a few criminals who’d been wreaking havoc days before.

The main point was: after two years of being friends, you would finally get to spend Christmas together. It’s not that you’d suffered those Christmases without him; you had friends and family. But you wanted to spend the holidays with who you now considered to be your closest friend.

Bruce, however, wanted to spend Christmas with the woman he was in love with. He hadn’t found the courage to tell you – not yet. He was afraid of ruining things, of hurting you. So he kept silent, relishing in the friendship the both of you had.

Approaching the mall, you had a small list in your hand, filled with names of everyone you wanted to buy a gift for. He had around five people in mind, so he did not need all those preparations.

Once you were in the crowded mall, Bruce would hold you close to him, shielding you from everyone who might bump into you. His hand would respectfully be in the small of your back, and if he needed you to get out of someone’s way (people who refused to look up from their phones were the worst), he would slide it to your waist and gently pull you towards him.

You’d stopped at a beauty store, wanting to buy a new skin care package for your closest friend at work – heavens knew how badly you needed her to keep you sane – so you’d asked Bruce for his opinion on a myriad of perfumes.

“See, I like this one, but I think the smell is a bit too strong,” you mumbled, squeezing some of the hand lotion’s sample on your hand and applying it there. “Here,” you reached your hand to him, and nearly all the air was sucked out of your lungs when Bruce carefully reached for it, holding your pulse in his and bringing it to his face. His lips nearly brushed against your skin as he took the smell of the lotion in, and at least a dozen of women who were shopping nearby swooned.

Bruce let go of your hand just as gently and you blinked a few times, trying to wake up from your little trance.

“It is a bit strong, yeah. You mentioned she’s got a sensitive nose, so maybe something less floral?”

You were quick to nod and walk away, afraid he’d notice the way your cheeks heat up and your pupils dilated.

Once you turned away from him, focusing on the other hand lotions, he sighed, still feeling a buzzing sensation in his hand. It was as if he could still feel your skin against his, and he had to shake his head to return to the task at hand. Control yourself.

At a clothing store, you held up different sweatshirts next to him, asking for his opinion on a gift to your father. He gave you his earnest opinion, and insisted on carrying all your bags once you were done.

“Bruce – come on, I can carry them. I’m not a baby,” you’d told him, sighing in exasperation.

“Just allow me. You’re still picking up things left and right, it’s better if I carry these for you.”

You two checked out a jewellery shop – you’d been saving up to buy your mom a pair of earrings, and while you busied yourself looking through rows and rows of pairs, looking for the one you had your eyes on, Bruce quickly excused himself, and turned to a shop helper.

Approaching the counter, he placed the delicate pair of pearl earrings next to the cashier, glancing around just to make sure you weren’t paying attention to him.

“Would you like these to be gift wrapped?” The cashier asked.

“Yes please.”

Bruce continued glancing around. You too were speaking to a shop helper, pointing to the delicate pair of gold earrings you wanted to get.

“A gift for a special someone?” The cashier asked once again with a polite smile. Bruce wasn’t dumb. If he were anyone else, this would be a regular, standard question asked by shop clerks to keep a friendly conversation going. But he’s not just anyone else. He’d noticed the way the woman had glanced him up and down with a wishful expression and could bet all his money that if he were to reveal more than necessary, then she would turn to any gossip magazine as soon as he was out the door and spill whatever nonsense she thought it was going on.

He gave her a curt nod, paid for the earrings (now neatly placed inside of a box and wrapped with a pretty red ribbon), and returned to your side, hiding the box inside his jacket’s pocket.

“Did you find them?” he asked once he got to your side, and if it were anyone else, you would’ve jumped, but by now you were used to Bruce. You seemed to lean into his side and smiled, looking at the pair of hoops the shop helper brought to the counter.

“Yeah – she’s gonna love them! I was super scared they’d be sold out Bruce, I’ve been working my ass off to get these. I’m so proud of myself,” your smile was contagious, and Bruce found himself bringing you closer to him by the waist and giving you one of his super rare smiles. Once again, every woman within a five-mile radio sighed, basically eating him up with their eyes. It was no secret Bruce Wayne was a handsome man – not to mention Gotham’s most eligible bachelor – but to see him act so affectionate in public was a completely different thing, and it was clear more than woman had gotten jealous just looking at you.

(Their boyfriends were not happy with the way said women ogled Bruce up and down.)

“I’m proud of you too.” Bruce replied. It was true. You were a hardworking woman, and he beamed with pride at your accomplishments.

Of course he didn’t tell you he bribed the store to keep the earrings stored until you came along to buy them – he wasn’t about to let someone snatch the thing you’d been working so hard to get – but it didn’t matter. You’d earned it.

You grinned at him and reluctantly broke free from his hold.

“I’m gonna go pay for these, meet me outside?”

He nodded and walked outside of the store, hand coming to pat the box inside of his pocket. They’d look incredible with his mother’s pearl necklace, that’s for sure.

He carried your things to the limo, and upon arriving to the Manor, he distracted you with promises of hot chocolate and marshmallows, before handing Alfred the little white box and telling him to keep it a secret. The rest of the evening was spent with the two of you discussing presents, drinking your hot chocolate, and watching some Christmas movies as the wood in the fireplaced cracked piece by piece, enveloping you both in a cozy warmth.

Later that month, the two of you were sitting at an expensive café, having a few treats, and talking about your Christmas shopping. Although the place was very fancy and its prices had shocked you, so had the quality of their food.

“This is garbage,” you said, eyeing the cupcake on your plate. “Holy shit, who baked these? It feels like I’m chewing on a brick!”

“Yours are much better, yes,” Bruce agreed, taking his own cupcake, and looking at it carefully. “And that’s this awful taste?”

“I think she added lemon juice, but it doesn’t work in this recipe, not at all. You’ll see, it’ll basically nullify the sweetness of it, and the whole thing is just gonna taste like one sour cupcake. Gosh, people pay their rent’s worth of money for these?”

Bruce could listen to you talk for hours on end. The way your eyes lit up when you found a topic you were interested in, and how genuinely passionate you were about your hobbies. Your genuineness was something he praised and found himself looking for more and more. In fact, one of the reasons he’d taken you to this specific café was because he knew the cupcakes sucked – he’d eaten there before. He just wanted to hear you talk about them.

An old woman approached your table, wearing a Santa Claus had on top of her head, and a few Christmas related pins on her waitress apron.

“Is there anything else I can get for you?” she asked with a smile.

“Oh, no thank you, we’re fine.” You replied, returning it «.

“I see. Well, I’d just like to say, it’s a real gift to see such precious young love.” The woman gestured at the both of you, and your cheeks flared up. “This city can be so dark and gloomy sometimes; it warms my heart to know that love still prevails on top of all. You two are such a lovely couple.”

“We’re –“ you coughed, trying to clear your throat. “We’re not – we’re not a couple.”

“Oh!”

“Yeah, we’re just – we’re just friends!” you were quick to correct her and refused to meet Bruce in the eye.

Oh, right. Bruce. He was staring at the old woman, completely lost in thought. This woman thought you two were a couple. Did you look like it? And why had you shut her down so quickly? Did you hate the idea that much? Would it be so terrible if the two of you were to date?

“Oh, I am so sorry then, my apologies!” the waitress was quick to apologise. “It’s just – you two look rather lovely together. I’m sorry for the intrusion.” She walked away and you covered your cheeks with your hands, trying to mask the sudden blush that had overcome you.

Bruce, on his end, was still staring at where the woman had been. Did you two look like a couple that much? He wouldn’t mind it. No, not really, he wouldn’t mind being a couple with you. He could finally drop that stupid playboy persona, be one step closer to his real self. He could protect you and always keep you safe and closer to him. He wondered what it would be like to wake up to you every morning and be greeted with that dazzling smile of yours. Would you ask him for five more minutes in bed? Act all grumpy until you had your morning coffee? Would you drag him out of his bedroom to start the day and be productive?

“Shall we go?” you interrupted his thoughts, placing your now empty mug on top of your plate. “It’s gonna get dark soon, and I wanted to see the Christmas lights.” Your voice was lower, still tinted with some nervousness. Bruce snapped out of it and nodded, walking towards the counter to pay the bill.

While he was gone, you made your way to the bathroom and splashed some water on your face, to wake yourself up and hopefully cool down.

Once you were ready, you walked out of the café, strolling the streets of Gotham.

Sometimes it surprised you how pretty your city could be. Sure, there was chaos and corruption, and most of the times it was a fucking shithole, but it was still home, and the tall buildings and bright lights could still take your breath away.

You and Bruce walked side by side. You were still far too nervous to look at him, so you kept your distance. Bruce, respectful as ever, remained by your side, refusing to touch you until you gave him permission. As you were looking at the prettily decorated shop windows and houses, he could see the way your body shivered and trembled.

That’s what you got for refusing to bring a jacket because, “your outfit looked far too pretty to be hidden behind a coat”.

“Cold?” he asked.

“N-no. Not at all. I’m fine. I told you; these tights are really warm.” Your voice was trembling, and your teeth were close to chattering. A part of Bruce wanted to see you fight for your case just a bit longer, while the other just longed to envelop you in his arms and keep the cold away.

“Oh, really? Because I’m pretty sure the tips of your fingers are turning blue.” He said with a smug expression.

“No, I’m fine.” You replied, nodding eagerly. “I told you; I wouldn’t be cold. I’m not.”

Bruce just nodded and kept walking by your side.

After a few minutes, it was far too obvious you were freezing. Your body was trembling, your teeth were chattering, and he was sure he could see your lips becoming a dark shade of purple.

Wordlessly, Bruce began to remove his jacket.

“What are you doing?” you asked, turning to him in confusion.

“Preventing you from catching pneumonia,” he replied, handing it to you.

“N-no, T-that’s not n-necessary, Bruce. I’m fine. I’m n-not cold. I’m f-fine! See? Just p-peachy.”

Bruce had faced criminals and villains and corrupt cops, and they’d all lied to him at one point or another. None was as bad as you.

He gave you one of his “I told you so” looks, and you nearly pouted, spreading your arms as he helped you put the jacket on. Almost instantly, you felt warmth spread through your body and sighed in relief. Bruce also removed his scarf, and carefully wrapped around your neck, hands lingering on your face for longer than necessary when he brushed a few strands away from it.

“Better?” he murmured.

You looked at him through your lashes. He was close. Very close. So close, that you could hear your heartbeat hammering on your chest. You gave him a soft “mhm” and he returned to your side, keeping a respectful distance from you.

“Aren’t you cold?” you asked him. It made you feel terrible – it was freezing in Gotham, and you’d taken his only sources of comfort.

“I’m fine – believe me. I’d much rather have you not freezing on me.” He replied.

“Are you sure? It’s very cold.”

“I promise.”

You nodded and continued your silent stroll.

Suddenly, while crossing the street, some careless motorbike showed up out of nowhere. You shrieked in surprise, and froze in your place, closing your eyes in fear. A pair of strong arms pulled you away, and you collided with a strong figure. Bruce was holding you close, cursing the driver under his breath. Once you looked up to you look at him, he turned to you.

“Are you okay?” he asked, looking all over your face to make sure you were unharmed.

“Yeah – just – that dickhead –“

“I know. It’s like you can’t trust anyone with a license these days.” He muttered. It hurt to part from you. It was like you were made to stand next to him, body slotting perfectly with his. Reluctantly, he pulled away from you, giving you space, but was surprised when you held onto his arm, like you usually do.

You looked at him, silently asking for permission, which he granted. You scooted closer to him, and he smiled.

The two of you continued walking through the streets of Gotham, making comments on the architecture, the lighting, the people. There were small stalls selling all sorts of trinkets and goods, a sort of small Christmas market, and you smiled as you saw kids running around with balloons or cups of hot chocolate. It was dark and gloomy, but once again, Gotham could be so very beautiful.

“A pretty flower for a pretty lady?” An old vendor asked, extending a pretty rose in your direction.

“Oh, no thank you – “ you mumbled, shaking your head, but Bruce was quicker.

“Thank you.” He nodded, taking the flower in his hands. He handed the man a bill (and surely a big one at that, because the man’s eyes widened, and he stared at it for quite a while before thanking Bruce profusely.)

Bruce turned to you and handed you the flower.

You weren’t sure if it was from his jacket, or if your whole body had simply decided to set itself on fire. You took the flower and brought it up to your nose, the intoxicating smell of it filling your senses.

“Thank you,” you said, still looking at it. No one had ever bought you flowers.

“A pretty flower for a pretty lady,” he repeated the old man’s words, and continued walking with you by his side, but not without hearing the old man say something about how “beautiful it was to see love bringing people together”. You didn’t seem to have heard it, but Bruce did, and he smiled.

It was Christmas Eve, and you were in Wayne Manor, having dinner with Bruce and Alfred (whom he begged to take a seat at the table with the two of you). There was wine and plenty of food, and the three of you had a great time, sharing funny stories and anecdotes and just enjoying each other’s companies.

You had promised your family to visit them the day after and were dead set on spending the Eve with Bruce.

After dinner, you sat near the fireplace, talking about books, movies, and whatever silly topic that came to mind. You, with your legs comfortably spread on the couch, Alfred on the big chair, and Bruce on the floor, by your feet. To him, that was the closest he had to spending Christmas with his family, and wondered if his parents would’ve enjoyed your company. Of course they’d have, he thought, you’re perfect.

After the three of you had played a few games (Alfred had won at charades, his Batman impression making you laugh for five minutes straight), you stood up announcing that, since it was almost midnight, you wanted everyone to open their gifts. It was more about you giving yours away than opening them, really – you were quite proud of the gifts you’d bought and wanted Bruce’s and Alfred’s reactions as soon as possible.

“Alright, alright, alright, me first! Here – Alfred, these are for you!” You handed him about five different packages, and he looked at you with a fond expression in his eyes.

“You didn’t have to, Miss.”

“Well, but I did. I need to spoil my swing partner, don’t I?”

He smiled at your antics and slowly opened the packages, one by one. Inside, there were a few woollen sweaters with matching-coloured ties.

“They’re really warm, you know. And it’s real wool – the quality of these is amazing! And you can even wear them without the ties, for a more casual look. What do you think? Do you like them?” you asked eagerly, hoping to get the response you wanted.

“I do, Miss. Thank you. These are lovely.”

You beamed and hugged him tightly. “Promise? There’s a receipt somewhere if you don’t like them – but I just thought they looked so cool and they were so pretty and the fabric is so soft, and – “

“Yes, Miss. I promise. Thank you. These are splendid.”

“Well, since we’re spoiling Alfred, I don’t really want to get left out.” Bruce joked, before reaching for an envelope sitting on top of the Christmas tree (decorated by the both of you on the first of December, thank you very much.) He handed his butler the envelope and sat back, awaiting his reply.

“So, you’ve finally decided to get rid of me.” Alfred said, looking at the contents of the envelope intently.

“Don’t be so dramatic, it’s just a few weeks.” Bruce replied smugly. “If anyone deserves a vacation in this house, it’s you.”

When Alfred didn’t reply, Bruce raised an eyebrow, worry starting to pool in his stomach.

“Alfred? Is everything okay?”

Alfred sighed and shook the envelope in his head.

“A ticket to the Maldives, Master Wayne? You’ve outdone yourself this time.”

Bruce grinned, nodding. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I do indeed, but, if I may express a tiny complaint…”

“Of course, Alfred. You can always speak your mind.”

“You’re a bit of a cheapskate, Master Wayne.”

You burst out laughing, nodding along with Alfred.

“A cheapskate. I see. And why is that?”

“After all I’ve done for you, three weeks of vacation seems a bit stingy, don’t you think?” Although he was saying this, he had a smile playing in his lips. Clearly none of it was serious.

“It’s not like I can function without you Alfred. Can’t have you enjoying too much time off, now, can we? You might remember just how fantastic life is outside this place and never return. You’ll be here forever. You’ve changed my diapers when I was born, and you’ll change them when I’m old and gray.”

“I knew I should’ve never accepted Thomas Wayne’s job offer back then.” He muttered. But he then turned to Bruce and gave him an earnest smile. “Thank you, sir. This is very thoughtful of you.”

After that, it was his turn to give you your presents. He gave Bruce a (very expensive) bottle of wine, that he expressed “wanted it to be opened on a very special occasion” with a wink – which made Bruce clear his throat and change the subject. You received a burgundy scarf he’d brought from his latest trip to England, from a shop you’ve expressed your admiration for a few times.

“Holy – oh my god! This is incredible, I mean, look at it!” You hugged him tightly and wrapped the scarf around your neck, not caring that it was far too warm inside the Manor for you to require a scarf.

“Well, now, it seems to be getting rather late for me,” he announced, standing up.

“Oh? You don’t wanna stay here until midnight?”

Alfred shook his head.

“I’m afraid not, Miss. I’m quite tired. I’ll be retiring for the night.”

“Alright, Alfred. Goodnight.” Bruce said with a curt nod.

“Goodnight, sir. Goodnight, Miss.”

You’d turned away to investigate your scarf once again, you missed the look Alfred gave his master, which made him sigh and look at you fondly.

“Alright – now it’s my turn! I need to go get your gift, just wait in here!” You were quick to stand up and disappear into the hallway. You’d been gone for a few minutes, so Bruce went after you, wondering if everything was alright. He bumped into you near the grand staircase at the entrance, and you jumped.

“Christ – you need to stop scaring me like that!” you reprimanded him.

Bruce chuckled, and you shook your head.

“Anyway,” you mumbled, presenting him with a small black box. “This is for you. I know it’s not nearly as fancy as the ones you already have but – well, it’s Christmas and it’s the thought that counts, is it not?” There was a certain nervousness in your voice, Bruce could feel it.

He gently took the box from you, and opened it, revealing a fancy looking black Hugo Boss watch. His fingers trailed the screen and the expensive leather strap.

“I know you have a ton of those, but I thought, hey, this one’s special, this one’s from me!” Before you could keep on with your nervous ramblings, Bruce brought you close, hugging you tightly. You smiled against his chest and wrapped your hands around his torso. This was nice. This was comfortable and familiar and nice.

“Thank you,” he whispered into your hair, and you almost melted at the cadence of his voice.

“You’re welcome.” You replied.

When you two pulled away, something caught his eye. Looking up, he realised the both of you were standing right underneath a few branches of mistletoe. You followed his eyes and blushed furiously, your whole body heating up.

Bruce said your name and you turned to look at him, feeling as light as a feather.

“Look, I – there’s something I would like to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

Bruce thought of all you’d been through together. Laughter, tears, giggles, and scowls. You’d had great times, reading books, walking around, spending time together, and bad times, when he blew you off, choosing Gotham city at night over you. He thought of all he told you, all he trusted you with.

“I just wanted to say that I really enjoy spending time with you,” he began.

“I enjoy spending time with you too.” You inched closer to him, hands still on his chest.

“You’re amazing, and I’m so glad to have you in my life. You see through my charade. I can be myself when I’m around you.”

He thought back on the charity gala, on you wearing that lovely black dress, dancing with him. He thought of holding your hand and pulling you close to him to keep you safe. He thought of your sparkly eyes and delicate lips, and how much he could stare into the former and how badly he wanted to kiss the later.

“Thank you for all you’ve done for me. I guess what I’m trying to say is…”

He thought about how badly he wanted to always be with you. How much he’d love to wake up next to you, feel your skin against his, be able to shout from the rooftops that you’re his and his alone. He thought about dropping to one knee and seeing you walking down an aisle wearing the prettiest of white dresses. He saw a lifetime with you, side by side.

“What I’m trying to say is…”

He thought about Batman.

How he’d have to cancel date after date after date, prioritising the black suit over your relationship. He thought of you getting worried sick when he got home late, frowning as you looked at his scars and bruises. He could see it vividly, how you’d cry and beg him not to leave you, to choose you over the city for once in his life, and how he’d leave you to cry all of your tears as he put the cowl on.

“Is…”

“Is…?” You pressed further, eyes dropping to his lips.

He saw argument after argument, saw you screaming at him, accusing him of not loving you. He saw nights spent in the couch, because you were far too angry to let him in your bed. He saw your sad eyes welling up with tears in the middle of romantic dates after he’d told you he had to go because the bat signal was shining in the night sky. He thought about someone finding his identity and going after you first and foremost. He saw you tied up in some random chair, mouth gagged and tears running down your streak as some criminal tortured you to get to him.

He saw your lifeless body inside a coffin, skin devoid of colour, eyes closed, to never open again, and how he’d spend the rest of his life hating both himself and his mask.

He thought about Bruce Wayne, and Batman.

And he realised you couldn’t possibly love both.

“Is… You’re a great friend. Thank you.” He squeezed your arms in a comforting manner and walked away, leaving you wide eyed and speechless under the mistletoe.

Later, he’d gift you the first edition of your favourite classic novel and wish you goodnight with a polite nod of his head, going up to his bedroom.

Before he went to sleep, he locked the pearl earrings and his mother’s necklace inside his drawer.

Things were awkward between you two. Your friendship with Bruce was still there, but he was sort of distant. Your weekly book club meetings still happened, and he still dropped by your café to drink coffee and try new cupcake recipes, but everything seemed to have changed after Christmas Eve.

So, you tried to move on with your life.

A few weeks after Christmas, your bakery started to work with a new supplier, and you quickly befriended the delivery guy, Tom. While you started to look forward to his visits more and more, it still did not feel the same as when you were with Bruce, and you felt guilty for hanging out with him.

One day, Bruce came in for his regular cup of coffee and a cupcake and found you smiling and giggling at a guy at the counter. His first reaction was to punch the guy to next Sunday, but thankfully he calmed down and approached you with a polite smile on his face.

“Hey there,” he greeted you, not sparing Tom a single glance.

“Oh! Hey Bruce – this is Tom. He’s the delivery guy from the new supplier.” Tom’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull when he realised the Bruce Wayne was standing in front of him and tried his best to shake his hand nonchalantly.

“I’ll be right with you,” you told him, and continued your conversation with Tom.

Fucking Tom. Who even was this guy?

And why were you smiling so much? What the fuck did he have that Bruce didn’t?

Most likely, it was what Bruce didn’t have that make a difference – a mask, a secret identity, a promise made to Gotham.

After you were done chatting with the delivery guy, you placed a cupcake and a cup of coffee in front of Bruce, but instead of sitting down with him, you returned to the counter and resumed your conversation.

Bruce cursed himself mentally.

On Christmas day, after you’d left, Alfred had asked what happened.

Bruce told him everything. How he couldn’t be with you because of Batman, how he couldn’t risk your safety and life, how he pushed you away.

Alfred lectured him, telling his master that his mask was going to be the end of him, but Bruce refused to listen and went to the batcave to busy himself and get his mind off you.

As he looked at you now, radiant and smiling at someone else, he realised that he might’ve made a big, big mistake.

It wasn’t long until you two started dating. It was casual, nothing too serious, but Bruce still seethed on the inside. He found himself staring at you for longer, hands lingering on yours whenever he touched you, and his heart ached more and more whenever he saw you with Tom.

You seemed so happy with him.

Seemed.

Because the truth was, you weren’t doing as well as Bruce thought you were. Tom was a nice man, yeah, but there was something off about the whole thing. He was good looking, yes, and very kind. He listened to you and made you, his priority. He was a dream. But there was just one problem, he wasn’t Bruce.

When you two went out, you often found yourself wishing it was Bruce’s arms wrapped around you. When you two went shopping and you decided to go try on a few hand lotions, Tom simply bent over to sniff your hand, and you were brought back to that time last November when Bruce held you with such gentleness, you nearly melted.

Tom always reminded you to bring a jacket, and you did so diligently, unconsciously put off by the idea of wearing his. He’d once given it to you, and it just wasn’t the same. He didn’t wrap it around you securely, he didn’t brush the hair away from your face, he didn’t look at you the way Bruce did. He was an amazing guy, and you liked him.

But that was it.

Still, you kept your relationship going, hoping your feelings would change.

After all, it’s not like you had ever felt anything for Bruce, right?

He was just a good friend.

You enjoyed spending time with him, sure, but that was it.

So, you looked forward to every time the two of you hung out. And your heartbeat quickened every time he was near. You couldn’t get your eyes off him. You easily got angry or upset whenever other women looked at him, and even more so when he entertained their advances. You longed to have him hold you in your arms.

But that was all normal, right? It just meant you were great friends.

You mind goes back to Christmas Eve, and the way he hugged you. Standing under that mistletoe, there was nothing you wanted more than to kiss him. You remember looking at him and wishing so bad that he would lean down and press his lips against yours. Just friends don’t kiss.

And that’s what you were to him – just a friend. He’d say that himself.

So why were you so heartbroken?

Looking at an empty coffee mug, it suddenly hit you like a train.

You were in love with Bruce Wayne.

And he didn’t love you back.

So there was no need to feel guilty over going out with Tom, right? Even if you didn’t particularly want to kiss him and didn’t want his hands around you when you two went out. Even if you were reluctant to introduce you as “your boyfriend” and had more than once ditched him to stay home and rethink your life decisions.

Even if when the two of you went out on dates, you barely paid any attention to him, focusing on the times you’d sat down with Bruce over a drink and just laughed your asses off and spoke until the crack of dawn.

Even if you didn’t really love Tom.

Yeah. No need at all.

On a lovely April afternoon, you were helping Bruce do some spring cleaning. You were both wearing some casual, old clothes, and helping Alfred to make sure the Manor ended up spotless.

You were currently in charge of the spacious living room, carefully placing picture frames on top of the coffee table so you could clean the fireplace. You looked at the framed memories. Pictures of Bruce as a child, or with his parents. There was one with a young Bruce standing on his father’s shoulders, and another one of him hugging Alfred.

You smiled to yourself. What a cute kid, he was. He seemed so happy.

There were pictures of him with Rachel, knees scraped and clothes dirty from the mud, and some with you. Your gaze lingered on those.

There was one framed selfie with the two of you, faces full of flour and whipped cream. You’d been teaching him how to bake, but the whole ordeal ended up in a small food fight – which he’d won. You chuckled at the memories of trying to teach Mr. “I’m far too rich to cook because I have people to do it for me” how to measure cups of flour, and break eggs. You’d held onto his arms and guided him to make sure he got the measurements just right.

Something inside of you flared up the memory.

The other picture in your hand had been taken at the Carrington gala.

You were wearing your pretty (and extremely expensive) black dress and were smiling at the camera. You were leaning into Bruce’s touch, who was holding you close by the waist. Instead of looking at the camera, he was instead looking at you.

Somehow, tears had clouded your vision.

How you had loved dancing with him. Being held by him as if you were the only person in the world he cared about. Your fingers traced his figure in the picture, and a tear fell down your cheek, falling on top of the glass.

“Hey, are you done with the fireplace?” You jumped at the voice behind you, and dropped the frame, which fell on the floor and broke into a million little pieces.

“Shit!” you mumbled, quick to crouch and try to pick up each glass shard. Bruce was quicker though, and made his way towards you, pulling you away from the soiled floor.

“No, get away from this, you might get hurt. I’ll call Alfred and – “ he looked at you and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Tears were streaming down your face, and you couldn’t look away from the mess you had made. “Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you choked back a sob. “I’m so sorry – I broke it.”

“No, no. It’s okay, we’ll just get a new frame.” Bruce assured you, hands resting on your shoulders.

“No – fuck – it’s not okay! None of this is okay!” You cried, and he pulled you against his chest, running his fingers through your hair.

“It’s just a frame. We’ll get a new one. And we’ll clean the floor.”

You cried in his arms for a while, until your sobs subsided into quiet sniffs. Bruce didn’t really know what to do, so he stood there, holding you tight. He’d never let you go.

After a while, you broke the silence.

“I – “ sniff, “ – I broke up with Tom,” you mumbled.

Bruce’s expression was one of surprise. Really? Why would you though? You two seemed happy.

“I… I don’t really think I liked him…” you continued; voice muffled by his chest. “I think I was dating him simply because I wanted to forget you…”

What?

He looked at you, but you refused to face him, face pressing harder against his chest.

“I’m such an idiot, Bruce… Everything was fine, and then I went and fell for you… And now our friendship is going to be ruined, and I broke your picture frame…”

Bruce held you tighter. You fell for him?

“I’m sorry, Bruce… I’m so sorry – I promise I’ll fix this. I – I’ll stop loving you and we can go back to being friends, and – “

Bruce used his thumb to lift your face up and looked straight into your eyes. There was nowhere to run. You were trapped, and so was he.

“You love me?” he asked, voice as soft as you’d ever heard it.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say those words out loud, so you opted for nodding.

“But – Tom –“

“Tom was a distraction,” you sniffled, “And I feel terrible about it. But I didn’t really like him. I just wanted to forget about you.”

“You love me,” Bruce repeated, using the same thumb to rub circles on the skin of your cheek. His gaze fell on your lips.

He had two choices. He could let you go once again. He could walk away from you, tell you he didn’t love you back. He could watch as you eventually moved on with your life (this time for real) and protect you from having to choose between Bruce Wayne and Batman.

He could give up the love of his life forever.

Or he could kiss you. He could tell you how he felt. He could trust you with that darker side of him, and you two could figure it out along the way. He could take it easy. He could bare his heart and finally tell you how you felt.

Two sides of him fought against each other, but ultimately, one was stronger.

He bent down and took your lips in his, sliding his hands up to your face to cradle it.

You were surprised to say the least, but pleasantly so. You wrapped your arms around him and kissed him back with vigour, tears of happiness falling down your cheeks. How you’d wanted this. And now, it was finally happening.

When you two parted for air, Bruce refused to let you go, standing mere inches away from you. His nose nuzzled yours, and he whispered a quiet, “I love you.”

You don’t know wat surprised you more. That he’d say it, or that you said it back.

“I love you too,” you smiled, pressing yourself against him and kissing him once again.

Bruce wrapped his arms around you, attempting to convey all his feelings for you in a simple kiss. All the longing, the love, the desire, the friendship. Everything he couldn’t find the words to say, he poured into that kiss. And you smiled, accepting all his confessions, all his words.

“Well, it was about time, don’t you two think?” Alfred said from across the room.

You jumped and just stared at him, embarrassment overtaking you.

“Yes, I’m talking about you two. Do you know how bothersome it was to see you moping around and sulking because you hadn’t kissed her on Christmas Eve, sir?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“I – You wanted to kiss me on Christmas Eve?” you turned to Bruce and gave him a soft smile.

“I did. I really did. I’m so sorry I didn’t.” he replied, before looking at Alfred. “Could you please leave us alone now? I don’t really recall paying you to mind my business.”

“You don’t pay me enough not to, sir.” The butler replied with a cheeky grin and that “I have the high ground, for I am British and old and wise” smug look of his. “I am glad to see the both of you are finally getting along. If you need me, I’ll be cleaning the Manor, since no one in this house does it.”

You laughed and faced Bruce once again, cupping his cheek.

“I thought you didn’t even like me. I mean, on Christmas…”

“I’m sorry about Christmas. I really did want to kiss you, it’s just… There are things about me – things you don’t know. And I’m afraid of telling you because I don’t want you to get hurt.” He replied, hand coming up to touch yours.

“You can tell me anything Bruce, you know it. Right?”

He nodded, and hugged you close one more time.

“I do. And I love you. I really mean it.”

Bruce could hear the smile in your voice when you replied.

“I love you too.”

For once in his life, Bruce Wayne did not feel completely alone. On the next room, he had his trusted butler, who had raised him as his own and acted like a parental figure all these years. And in his arms, he had you. The love of his life, the woman he loved the most in the world.

Holding you close to him, he knew he could trust you, no matter what. He knew you’d accept him, because if anyone would, it was you. And he would cherish that forever.

Later that night, a small white box was taken out of a locked drawer and placed inside of his pocket.

Bruce led you to the same spot you’d been on Christmas Eve, handed you the small box, and after carefully placing the necklace around your neck, finally kissed you.

There was no way he was ever letting go of you.

A/N: And that's it! I hope I was able to do both this trilogy and this request justice, I was really worried about it. I wrote most of it in one sitting, you have no idea, I just kept on writing and writing and writing and when I realised it, it'd gotten kinda long and out of hand.

I also hope this Tom character wasn't useless? I mean, he sorta was, he was just a plot device, but I hope he didn't feel rushed or whatever.

Anyways, I hope you guys liked it! I really do!

Have an amazing day, everyone! <3

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x you #bale!bruce wayne #bale!batman x reader #bale!batman #bale!bruce wayne x reader #the dark knight #the dark knight trilogy #nolanverse #the dark knight fanfiction #the dark knight fanfic #nolanverse fanfiction #bruce wayne fanfiction #batman fanfiction #batman x fem!reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader

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kiwisluv · 11 days

Text

jude bellingham blurb - barca vs psg

reader x bf!jude

set during the barca vs psg leg 2 champions league match

1.4k words - i guess not really a blurb at this point😭 also not proofread soz xx

You and your best friend were sat in the tv lounge at your uni, watching the Barcelona vs PSG game since you had downtime between classes. A little bit into the first half, a group of three boys had come by to ask if they could watch the game with you two, and you obliged, figuring it wouldn't do any harm.

By the time the second half started, you and your friend were regretting your mistake. The three boys were yapping about the game the entire time, which wouldn't have been terrible if it wasn't so obvious that they were trying to flex their "superior" knowledge about footy. The two of you just kept to yourself, making a quiet comment to each other about the game here and there, but you couldn't help but make eye contact every time one of the men confidently remarked about the game, only to be making an incorrect statement. It was almost laughable the amount of times they had messed up; when their fourth friend came at halftime, one of the men loudly went, "Bro, PSG just got a red card then scored on the penalty kick." You couldn't even wrap your head around how the boy could've mistaken what he was watching THAT badly. At one point, you could barely hold back your giggles as your best friend tweeted, "Barcelona fans are the type of people to stare straight into the sun during the solar eclipse."

You had also been texting Jude throughout the game, knowing he couldn't talk right now because the team was prepping for tomorrow, but still sending him your commentary like you always did for him to read later. This included texts like "RED CARDDDDD THIS IS PEAK COMEDY FROM BARCA" and "XAVI GETTING SENT OFF I'M DYINGGGGG!!!!!!" It's safe to say that you were happy to see the downfall of Jude's rival club. At one point early in the second half, you saw the photos of Jude from his press conference and showed your friend excitedly, raving about how fit he was, and laughing at one of the videos of him trying to understand a Spanish interviewer. When they boys caught notice of this, they side eyed each other, assuming that you were just some girls who didn't even care about football and just watched for the fit guys. This got them chatting even louder, reallyyy trying to show off their ball knowledge now. Because of your mention of Jude, they started talking about tomorrow's games and proceeded to rant about how City was gonna blow out Madrid. This struck a nerve in you but you decided to bite your tongue and just focus on the game and your friend instead of biting at their bait.

After Mbappe's second goal, you were absolutely raving, texting Jude something along the lines of "KYKYYYYYYYY." You cheered with your friend as the boys sulked further into their chairs, obviously unhappy with the scoreline. "I love my man, but Kyks..." you joked to your friend as you watched PSG celebrating all over the screen. "Can't wait for you to come to Madrid baby," you joking said to the TV screen, your friend giggling at your ridiculousness. This fit was interrupted, though, as your phone started buzzing and Jude's contact picture (a quite unflattering photo of him sleeping) filled your phone. Your heart instinctually swelled at the thought of speaking to your boyfriend, and you quickly answered the call. "Please tell me you just saw that goal," you said as soon as Jude's face filled the screen. It looked as if he was done with training and sitting in the team's makeshift common area. You could hear some of his teammates messing around in the background and even saw Cama passing by in the background.

"Well hello to you too," Jude said jokingly. You rolled your eyes at his sassiness, choosing to ignore this comment and ask if he was watching the game.

Unbeknownst to you, the four boys sat in the room with you were absolutely flabbergasted. They were looking at each other with the widest eyes, unable to believe what they were hearing. Your friend saw this, biting back her smirk at their reaction. "Hiya Jude," she greeted, peaking her head into the frame to say hi to your boyfriend, who she was also quite close with.

"Hi!" he smiled back with a wave to the camera. "And yes, I'm watching the game. We just got done with training."

"We watched some of your press conference earlier. It was alright," you joked to the man. This time it was his turn to roll his eyes. "Kidding, of course. You looked sexy," you said with an overdramatic wink. You couldn't hold back your laughter at the silly remark. "But for real, your answers were perfect. You actually sounded very competent and not nearly as cocky as you actually are."

"Wow. Thanks for that," he said in fake annoyance.

"I've already got screenshots of it in my camera roll."

"You're a creep," he deadpanned. "I can't believe my girlfriend is a groupie."

This had you gasping, holding your hand to your heart as you feigned offence. "Alright, goodbye now Jude." You pretended to go to hang up the phone but were cut off by Jude going "No no no no!"

After that little fit, he asked you about how your day was, how your assignments were going, etc. He even asked your friend about how her date was last night, surprising you that he even remembered about that. She took the phone from you to debrief your boyfriend about her night, telling him the story of the crazy guy she'd had dinner with. As the two chatted away, you watched the last few minutes of the game, feeling warm inside at how happy you were with Jude and how happy you were that he got along with your friends so well.

However, your thoughts were interrupted by the four boys, who had stood up and walked over to you. You looked at them puzzled, having a hunch about what they wanted. "Hey, um, we were just wondering..." one of the boys started, obviously nervous about whatever he was going to say. At this point, you knew what they wanted, and you couldn't believe the nerve they had after slagging off Madrid mere minutes ago.

"If you could say hi to Jude?" you finished the question for him. They sheepishly nodded, one of the others adding, "We're big fans."

You held back your eye roll at that last statement, taking the phone from your friend and turning it so that the boys could see Jude and vice versa. "Jude, these are the guys that were just chatting all about how City's gonna win tomorrow." You couldn't see your boyfriend's face, but you imagined him raising his eyebrows at this statement. You and your friend laughed at how caught off guard the boys were by your statement. They looked panicked, all four of them standing with their mouths hung open but not saying anything.

"Oof," Jude shook his head on the screen. "Don't say that around y/n. She'll have your necks for talking down on Madrid."

At this, the frontmost of the boys scratched his neck and laughed nervously. "Um, we didn't mean it like that...we were just, um, talking about the odds and stuff..." he tried to scrap up a pathetic excuse.

"What team do you lads support?" Jude asked.

The four looked at each other as if they were unsure of whether to tell the truth or not. "Barca..." one ended up saying quietly. His friend widened his eyes at this, quickly adding on, "But we think you're class! You've been mental to watch this season."

"Thanks, mate. I'll have to tell the Barca lads even their fans are supporting Madrid this season! No wonder with the state of this game." At this, you brought your phone back to face you, giving the boys a look as to say, Okay, you can go now. You almost felt a little bad for embarrassing them but then remembered how annoying they were during the game and didn't regret a thing. "You're brutal," Jude said, shaking his head at your antics.

"They were annoying," you replied with a shrug. "I think I have to go to class now. I'll call you before our train to Manchester leaves tonight."

He smiled widely at this, ecstatic that he would get to see you after his game tomorrow. "Okay. I can't wait to see you. You too (y/bsf/n)!"

"Yeah, yeah. Me too. I love you, bye!"

"Love you, too." he smiled brightly before hanging up the phone.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham fanfic

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tteokdoroki · 4 months

Note

reading shyness made me think about how i became way more comfortable with myself and what i like after starting uni, it took me 2 ish years but now im so completely happy, and i feel like yuuji would be such a good boyfriend during all that, he’s so proud of watching you grow and you’ve always been pretty but seeing you like this you’re beautiful 🤍 someone tells you and yuuji that you’re a hot couple and when you say yeah i know his dick throbs

࣪𖤐๋࣭ — JOCK BF!YUUJI ENTRY #4. growth.

stop we are exactly the same!! in my final year of undergrad i felt like i was really able to come out of my shell and i had a lot more fun !! i’m so glad you’re happy n able to do the same!

with yuuji, i feel like he would never push you into going out clubbing or going to socials at uni but he would always invite you along, just to have it as an option? he’d always want you to feel comfortable in that sense. if you said no, he’d kiss your head and come back from his outings early just to spend some time with you — bringing you back snacks he stole and stories to tell.

if you said yes, however, yuuji would go out of his way to make sure you had a good time!! like i imagine him making sure you’re able to eat and drink, take part in conversations without getting talked over etc etc. If it’s more of a social at uni, he tries to team up with you but let’s you take the lead in whatever games you’re playing or activity you’re taking part in.

he would make it a thing to go get boba with you afterwards just so you can talk through how you felt at the event and what you liked :( he wants to know how you’re feeling n what he can do to make you more comfy whenever you guys go out together !!

then overtime, yuuji sort of starts holding your hand less, he stops introducing you both because now you feel confident enough to do it on your own. in fact, you become the one to invite him out to socials because everyone wants to see you and your cute boyfriend.

please, he’s so proud of how far you’ve come, so enamoured by the way you flit through rooms and charm people with your bright smiles and airy laughter. yuuji is just as in love with you now as he was when he first met you — and he’s just happy to be able to see you grow and come along for the ride.

#✧ ₊˚✉️੭ — new notification #✧ ₊˚💬੭ — unknown messenger #⋆｡°✩ — jock bf!yuuji #itadori fluff #itadori x reader #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing

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juyeonszn · 9 months

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WHAT IS LOVE?

PAIRING ₊˚⊹ lee juyeon x f!reader

GENRES ₊˚⊹ fluff﹒crack﹒angst﹒slice of life

WARNINGS ₊˚⊹ mature language bc even on a different blog i won’t ever change, uni!au, reader is a matchmaker, juyeon plays baseball, lots of kys and kms jokes, sunwoo is an incel, a bunch of lesbian jokes, um one sided pining for a while, like i am absolutely ruthless to reader for a Hot Minute i am so sorry, but it’s okay!!! bc then i’m also ruthless to juyeon, the unrequited love in this series goes crazy, it wouldn’t be a fawn smau without a second lead — so there is a small second lead moment, most of the written parts are full of sheer Angst and i’m not sorry about it, there’s like idol shipping in here ? but it’s for the sake of the plot i swear i don’t condone idol shipping 😭 it’s literally in my carrd, the bullying in this smau goes even crazier, ummm for some reason there are a lot of barbie references towards the end

FEATURING ₊˚⊹ the rest of tbz, soyeon + yuqi from (g)-idle, seonghwa from ateez, lee know from skz, sakura from le sserafim, dahyun + tzuyu from twice, jaehyun from nct and mingyu from seventeen

SUMMARY ₊˚⊹ all is well in the business of matchmaking. except it’s actually not, because lee juyeon, the school’s star baseball player, has just come to you for help in obtaining the girl of his dreams. oh yeah! and he happens to be the guy you’ve had a crush on since your first year of university.

STATUS ₊˚⊹ complete!

BEGINNING ₊˚⊹ august 1st, 2023

ENDING ₊˚⊹ october 19th, 2023

MORE ₊˚⊹ HIIIII hello!!! my first smau on another blog this is crazy ?!!2!!22!!2 fun fact; in case the plot seems familiar, it was an old wip for yeonjunszn that i had for jake from enhypen and decided to scrap for reasons that i do not remember LOL but then it came back to me and i decided to redo it for juyo bc it was so juyo-coded and now we’re here 🤗 send an ask to join the taglist (bc note and dm notifs get swallowed up with the ones from my other blog)!!

PROFILES ₊˚⊹ realize real eyes real lies | ball hitters + the token lesbian | ouran high school host club (+ tzuyu)

ONE ₊˚⊹ i’m the ceo president and chair mama

TWO ₊˚⊹ the hwang yeji incident

THREE ₊˚⊹ i hide and u seek therapy!

FOUR ₊˚⊹ /s or /j

FIVE ₊˚⊹ setting virgins up with other virgins

SIX ₊˚⊹ POSER FAKE FAN

SEVEN ₊˚⊹ #mancrushfriday #mrstealyogirl

EIGHT ₊˚⊹ I HATE WHEN WOMEN ARE RIGHT

NINE ₊˚⊹ the start of a W matchmaking season

TEN ₊˚⊹ ur on THIN ICE JAMAL

ELEVEN ₊˚⊹ Just Like A Doughnut (2.04k)

TWELVE ₊˚⊹ need a comically large piano to fall on top of me

THIRTEEN ₊˚⊹ hit tweet follow me 🙌🙏

FOURTEEN ₊˚⊹ what the bell are u talking about

FIFTEEN ₊˚⊹ THAT WAS A CRY FOR HELP

SIXTEEN ₊˚⊹ chest heavy eyes misty

SEVENTEEN ₊˚⊹ they laugh at me cause i’m emo

EIGHTEEN ₊˚⊹ sangyeon boyfriend material era

NINETEEN ₊˚⊹ Blocked and Reported for threatening language

TWENTY ₊˚⊹ A Hole In The Shape Of You (2.17k)

TWENTY ONE ₊˚⊹ men against song yuqi

TWENTY TWO ₊˚⊹ i thought we were friends.

TWENTY THREE ₊˚⊹ u think i’m pretty??? 🥰

TWENTY FOUR ₊˚⊹ for research purposes

TWENTY FIVE ₊˚⊹ The Middle Of My Heart (1.60k)

TWENTY SIX ₊˚⊹ AND THE CROWD GOES WILD

TWENTY SEVEN ₊˚⊹ to me it was

TWENTY EIGHT ₊˚⊹ clown to clown communication

TWENTY NINE ₊˚⊹ A Space Just For You (2.05k)

THIRTY ₊˚⊹ THE JUYEON THERAPY FUND

THIRTY ONE ₊˚⊹ is this pic AI generated

THIRTY TWO ₊˚⊹ i’m gay…

THIRTY THREE ₊˚⊹ 11:11 make a wish

THIRTY FOUR ₊˚⊹ Our Love Loop (2.62k)

THIRTY FIVE ₊˚⊹ graduated from bitchless university

#the boyz #tbz #the boyz smau #the boyz social media au #tbz smau #the boyz juyeon #tbz juyeon #lee juyeon x reader #lee juyeon smau #lee juyeon social media au #juyeon x reader #juyeon smau #juyeon social media au #juyeonszn #what.is.love.juyeon🩷

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writingsfromhome · 18 days

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Dos and Don’ts IV

A/N: hello my loves this final part to this fic completes the birth of one of my favourite fics I’ve written. Thank you for reading and enjoying it just as much—every like, comment, and dm meant the world <3

Parts: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

—————————————————

We have an extra day in Barcelona and the team is buzzing to enjoy their nightlife since we could sleep all day tomorrow. I’d visited here while I was a uni student so I give some suggestions.

Harry’s a little on edge the whole time. Earlier today some headline from a musician Harry worked with was taken out of context and thus took the internet by storm. Now he was being flooded with people wanting to know his thoughts and feelings. It was a hot topic.

With a joint effort of me, Jeff, and Graham, we tried to keep the spotlight on his Barcelona show. Well my role was mostly to screen Harry from seeing any further discourse online.

The show itself was one of the loudest I’d been to—I was glad I had my own ear protection. The tense Harry falls away and he’s electric on stage. Even coming backstage he’s on a high; he hugs the crew and thanks everyone like he usually did at the end of shows and disappears into his dressing room with Jeff. They look like they’re talking intensely.

“So,” Sarah slides in beside me. “We noticed you’re a bit different coming back. What’s happened?”

I try to play dumb but the girls keep pushing.

“Me and my fiancé ended things,” I confess. They gasp, Claire’s eyes actually fill with tears.

“Shh!” I shush them. “Keep it on the down low please I don’t want anyone to know.”

“But y/n why are you even here!? Is it because of tour! I’m sure Harry could have rearranged things-“

“No no,” I appreciated their support but I didn’t want to hash things out. “It’s just…I think it was a long time coming. God, I don’t wanna cry. I’m good. For now. And I want to be on tour I need the distraction.”

“I get it,” they sympathize. “We’re gonna make you forget so hard tonight.”

“Okay but don’t,” I look around us to make sure there was nobody else around. “Please don’t tell Harry. Seriously please. I don’t want him to know especially. I don’t want him to treat me differently or something.”

“Lips are sealed.” Sarah zips her mouth. “But we can all tell you’re off. It’s hard not to practically living together these last couple months. If he asks we’ll say…”

“Just say she’s on a break?” Charlie suggests.

“Yeah,” I shrug. “Things are complicated, I’m on a break, whatever that’s fine.”

The girls lean towards me and envelop me in a hug. It reminds me of my friends I’d said goodbye to.

“Thanks,” I say through tears.

And the girls hold me to their promise.

After we get dressed for the night—I chose a corset-style top and trousers—we head out. The sun dips below the horizon and the old city is cast in a warm orange glow that could inspire anyone who set eyes on it. String lights come on and music plays from various doors; the city is alive.

We tease each other about looking so glam as we wander the narrow cobblestone streets. Aside from the shows we all wore sweats and tees.

Every place we pass sets my senses alight. We grab tapas from a place that smells irresistible and chat over each other about tonight’s wicked show. I continue avoiding Harry by sitting as far away from him as I can get.

As we wander off in search of the club I can’t help but feel a twinge at how incredibly romantic the moonlit streets felt.

The club is loud and alive, the noise levels even feel normal after the roar of the last few of Harry’s shows. My mood starts shooting up steadily as I drink in the energy around me.

We join the crowd and I give away my worries and my annoyances to enjoy the music. I feel it in my chest and for a blissful moment I’m grateful for my whole damn life despite everything.

“Cute guy!” Someone shouts in my ear.

Charlie nudges me to one of the guys dancing nearby. “Get distracted!”

I shake my head no.

“Do it!” She cheers. It barely travels to me. She grabs Claire’s hand and tugs her, letting her in on the plan and they goad me into going for it.

I motion a drink. I’d need another shot for the courage.

We trail back to the bar and do a round of shots, and they grin with thumbs up as I hesitantly enter the crowd again.

The dude they pointed out is tall and beautiful. Like beautiful not even handsome. I get stuck looking up at him in awe, he wasn’t really my type. A tad too pretty boy but when he notices me looking he smiles and I’m won over. I couldn’t deny a good smile.

“Hey!” He turns his body to me. At least I think he say hey.

“Hey!” I shout back.

“Que pasa?”

“What?!” I couldn’t hear a single thing. What did I expect.

He smiles and takes my hand that had been anxiously playing with the edge of my top. The other has a hand splint that I’d received in Madrid. Apparently I sprained my fingers.

The stranger wriggles both my hands to loosen them, raising his brow at the splint. I laugh.

He asks in my ear but I don’t understand. It sounds like a question, something bylar. When I scrunch my brows he laughs, “Dance! We dance!?”

“Dance!” I laugh. He was cute! “Yes! I want to dance with you!”

“Vamos,” he pulls me in. I understood that at least.

I used to do this in uni, I think. I should be able to do it again.

He teases me a little because I’m so tense. His hands knead down my back to my waist to get me to relax. It feels nice, being touched by a man that looks like he was carved from marble but filled with music.

I begin to find my rhythm and sway with him, eventually letting go completely. He compliments me as I start to move with him and pretty soon I’ve channeled my 20-year-old self. It feels pretty spectacular.

When his lips ghost my cheek I don’t protest. Right now, I felt good. Everything was on the back burner’s back burner and I felt grounded in this nighclub with this random stranger who was paying attention to me, just me. And it’s just us. And it’s just temporary. And I feel good.

When I turn around, my back to his chest, he moves my hair to the side and kisses down my neck. It felt good.

I run my hand up into his hair and he moves lower murmuring foreign words on my skin, our bodies still dancing in the same language, his hands still gripping my waist and my hips. I feel blissed out.

It ends in a split second.

“What are you doing?” Harry’s suddenly tugging me towards him. His mouth makes the words I just fill them in with his annoyingly bossy voice.

“Hey man,” the guy I’m dancing with tries to get in between us.

“What are you doing!?” I snatch my hand away from Harry.

Harry puts his hand on my partner’s chest and says something to him, maybe in Spanish. He looks at me with puppy dog eyes and I look at Harry. What had he said.

“What did you say?” I ask. I try to call back my dancing partner but he just salutes me with a smile and fades into the crowd. No wait, I’m being dragged away.

“Y/n what are you doing out there?”

“What am I doing?” I shout. “What are you?! I was having a nice time with that guy what did you say to him?”

He walks away, further back into the edges of the club. There’s a few people milling about with a number of them involved in heavy makeout sessions.

Harry turns to face me finally. “You’re engaged y/n, Claire and Sarah said things are complicated at home is that why you’re doing this?”

“What!” I throw my hands up, tears prick my eyes. What the fuck was his problem! Since when did he care? “Why do you care?! Yes, things are complicated and I was getting my mind off of said things—what is your issue? You want to drag me back here and remind me of how shitty things have been?”

“This isn’t the way,” Harry insists. “You don’t even know that guy!”

“Whatever I’m over this convo.”

I turn to leave but Harry grabs my hand, the one in the splint, and pulls me back.

“Sorry,” he lets go of the splint. Then picks it up again. “Look. I’m worried about you. This isn’t you, you’re not the girl that goes home with another guy when your fiancé is back at home! I just don’t want you making any regrets.”

“Oh is that it,” I step towards him so my hand isn’t so outstretched. He stands still but on my second step he inches back. “Since when did you get a high horse huh? Don’t tell me who I am and who I’m not. You barely know me! If I want to make decisions I regret I can do that. They’re mine to make.”

“No. Y/n, as mad as you are don’t go home with a stranger.”

“As if you don’t!” I scoff. “What’s your real agenda here? What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” He insists.

“Why do you suddenly care so much about my chastity?”

“It’s for your own good!”

He’s lying. I know he’s lying and I don’t know why he pulled me away from my beautiful Spanish dance partner but I was actually relaxing and now he’s put me right back into this crazed and tense headspace I kept finding myself in.

Fine, I decide. I could make him regret it.

“Really? You care about my morality that much?” I ask.

With my hand flat on his chest I’ve pushed him further into the wall behind him. He watches me with a guarded look.

But I want him unguarded, vulnerable. The same way he’s made me feel. I lean in, “Are you really worried about the technicalities of me cheating on my fiancé?”

I hover a half foot from his lips. Finally his eyes flicker down to my lips and I know I’ve got him.

I slide my hand up his chest and when my hand inches up the skin of his throat his eyes grow unguarded and heady with lust. He doesn’t push me away. He doesn’t say no.

Hypocrite.

I drop my hand.

“That’s what I thought Mr. Styles.”

I watch for a wonderful moment as the lust clears from his eyes and he realizes what happened. Shame, embarrassment, resignation, and then anger.

I spin on my heel and head away from him. He could deal with the consequences of his actions all on his own.

I’m half-afraid he’ll come after me but luckily I make it out of the club alone.

“He’s such a dick,” I say more to myself. Just to get it out because I’m pissed. “Who the fuck does he think he is!?”

My night is over. I just want to take this all off and forget about it. Maybe I can lock myself in my room and raid the mini-fridge, get drunk and cry myself to sleep. Those seemed like the best options right now.

I take an uber to the hotel. As I walk up to it I notice a weird crowd outside. For nearly 2am I wasn’t expecting this and my instincts kick in that this wasn’t normal. Especially when I notice all the camera straps.

“Excuse me,” I ask the front desk. “Why are there a bunch of paparazzi outside?”

“Is there?” The man behind the counter asks. “Sorry we will tell them to leave. Are you staying with us?”

“That’s a privacy concern out there, and a concern with your staff because they’re here. How do they know who’s staying here?!”

It seems to dawn on him I wasn’t just asking out of curiosity. He promises me he’ll get management. In the meantime I call Jeff and explain the situation. He starts to panic the way I hated, looking for something to blame. He calls Graham who sounds like he’s driving in nascar. It’s a very noisy and over-stimulating conversation.

“Call Harry!” Jeff orders. “Tell him he cannot go back to the hotel no matter what! Fucking vultures man!”

“Y/N,” Graham says in a calmer voice. “You need to go back to where Harry is with some sort of disguise. A hat or sunglasses. That sort of thing-“

“It’s night.”

“Yes night. No glasses. Book the closest hotel you can find. Tell his band they can come back, but to go through the back. They might get spotted but they’re trained on dodging questions. That will keep the vultures there waiting for Harry and we can pick you two up back to the airport tomorrow morning. Where’s after this?”

“Glasgow,” I bite my nail as I think. I had to call Harry asap. What if he was on his way back. “I gotta go now to call him though. Talk later.”

I hang up and call Harry. He picks up the second time.

I explain the situation and he reacts the same way as Jeff, swearing and cursing the papps. I tell him what I was going to do and tell him to go right back into the club. To pass on the word to the team even though I was going to send them a text.

I head up to my room and grab what fits in my bag. I didn’t have Harry’s room key so I decide he’d have to wear my hat and head back out. The vultures stay waiting, now just a few feet further away from the entrance.

I speak briefly to management—I figured Jeff could talk to them and give his classic earful.

On the drive I find a nearby hotel to the club and collect Harry to get him there. We’re too tense to talk when we meet up. Once inside again, I tell him to sit in the lounge while I go up to the desk.

Act above it all, I channel a rich bitch. We needed privacy and we needed nobody to know Harry was here.

“Hi I need a room.” I say.

“Of course, how many night will you be staying with us.”

I glance back to see where Harry sits. He’s in a wingback chair that’s mostly turned away and with his hair stuffed in the baseball cap you can hardly tell it’s him.

“Just a night. I need your best room please.”

“Absolutely,” the woman smiles and I feel bad for only giving a tight-lipped smile back. I wait as she clicks away, finally looking back to me with a slight frown. “So miss unfortunately we are very booked tonight. There are a couple events going on in the city making things very popular.”

“The best room will do. Preferably large.”

“Well,” she hesitates. “A lot of our larger rooms are taken um. I can offer you a bed with one king, it is a bit smaller because it’s by the elevators. I also have one with a queen that is tucked away in the corner with a better view.”

I wanted to be as far away from Harry as possible but by an elevator was asking for trouble.

“Well, I’d rather stay far away from noise so we’ll take the queen.”

“Is that just you or…” she glances at Harry.

“Yes. Two. We’ve had a rough day of travel he’s just resting.”

I hand over ID and my card, trying not to balk at the total. At least I’ll get reimbursed.

“Do you have any bags?” The concierge swoops in as I get the key card.

“No! No. Like I said, bad travel day. We just need somewhere to sleep and we’ll reunite with the bags once they arrive tomorrow.”

They leave us alone after that. I hoped it was because I’d been standoffish enough and not plain weird.

The elevator ride up to the 8th floor is stony and I spend the spare second to text Jeff and Graham the hotel’s address.

The room itself is pretty sub-par and the adrenaline of getting Harry here safely wears off.

I drop my bag by the door and pull out my toiletry bag.

“I don’t have clothes for you to change into, I didn’t have your room key.”

“Yeah. S’fine. I’ll just sleep shirtless unless that bothers you.”

We stare at each other for a tense moment.

“I’m fine with that, you’re the one with the high horse.”

After doing all this for him I wasn’t going to be easy to deal with if he wasn’t going to be easy to deal with.

He chooses to ignore me.

“How the fuck did they know I was staying there? We were under a-“

His phone rings and he answers. Sounds like Jeff.

I use the time to go to the bathroom and finally take off the makeup. I realize I should have grabbed my pjs from my bag too. I take my hair down and massage my scalp with my fingers, letting myself calm down despite the aggressive voices outside.

“Yeah whatever. Keep me updated.” I hear. Great. That was done with.

I leave the bathroom and Harry’s still pacing the floor.

“You’re gonna wear the carpet down if you keep doing that.”

He stops and looks at me, his eyes trail down my body.

“You didn’t bring yourself a change of clothes either?”

“You wish,” I head for my bag again and grab the tee and shorts. “I just forgot them out here.”

“Do you always have to be so snarky?”

Oh, so he wanted to fight. Good news for him, so did I.

“Depends. With you? When you’re being a dick? Yeah. I do.”

“It’s really quite unbecoming.”

“Is it?” I mock his accent. “It’s not proper for a lady to be snarky?”

“I don’t sound like that. You just never let anything go.” He continues.

“I never let anything go?” I repeat.

“Yeah! Ever!”

“What do you want me to let go?” I ask.

“Everything. You’re bothered by everything just let it all fucking go.”

“No like specifically what should I let go?” I turn on him and with each question I stalk towards him. “Being treated like trash by you? Being told I’m replaceable and unnecessary? Getting bossed around about who I can and can’t dance with because you suddenly decide to be the morality police!?”

“Jesus take it down a notch y/n.” We’re fuming as we square off. “I’m not your bloody fiancé.”

“And thank fuck you’re not!” I throw the clothes in my hand on the bed. “You’re my employer Mr. Styles and I’ve been nothing but a good fucking employee for the last year! I try to keep my patience and do everything I can to do my best! You’re the one always trying to blur lines! You’re the one always getting in my damn business when I don’t pay you to!”

With every accusation I poke my finger into his chest and it’s like literally pushing buttons. His face gets stonier and stonier until I’m sure he’s going to crack.

“You wanna know what your fucking issue is?” He swipes my hand away.

“Oh sure tell me, wise Harry Styles who definitely has no issues at all. Tell me.”

“This. This is your fucking issue,” he spits. “You’ve always got such a temper on you! I’m not blurring any bloody lines I check up on you and you get all offended over nothing!”

“Over nothing?” I ask. I laugh sarcastically and walk away from him. I was seeing red. “Over nothing?”

“Yes! I don’t do shite and suddenly you’re trying to bite my dick off.”

“You fucking wish,” I turn on him. “It’s crazy you don’t realize what an absolute jackass you are! We should be refunding all those fans who’ve come out to see you because the man they’re paying for is a fake! You’ve treated me like nothing and embarrassed me countless time-“

“Embarrassed you,” he scoffs.

“Yes!” I go on. “What do you call what you said on our way to Paris huh? You can be so cruel! So if I have a temper it’s justified because you’re one of the worst people I’ve met!”

“What did I say?”

“Are you kidding? You’re going to make me repeat it?” He was crazy. He was depraved and absolutely insane. Or he just hated me.

“I’m not playing a game just tell me!”

“You said I could have skipped the whole tour and nobody would notice.” I say the words that had looped through my head. And of course, he has the audacity to look surprised. “Thanks. A lot! It makes it even worse that you were so casual with your cruelt-“

“You need to stop being so sensitive,” he has the nerve to say. “Then maybe you can manage your temper.”

“I can manage my temper any time but you’re moody like a pre-pubescent teen and that looks to be a lifetime fucking problem!”

“What’s your fucking problem Y/n! What is your problem with me!? Why do you still work for me if you are this angry all the time!”

“I’m not this angry all the time, you just makes me this angry! And I hate you for it!”

“Then quit!”

“Maybe I will!” I had to. After tonight and this blowout I had to. How could I work for Harry like this.

“Great! Then you can take your problems with you.”

“Don’t gaslight me,” how dare he. “You’re not innocent in this! You create my problems and blame me for being this way.”

“Whatever y/n.”

“No.” I wasn’t letting him off the hook. I get in his face again. “Why did you stop me tonight? Why did you keep me from doing what I wanted tonight?”

“What? I told you I was looking out-“

“Bullshit!” I cut him off. “That’s a bullshit excuse, I want to know why!?”

I feel like I’m made of flames and in desperate need of a lobotomy. How could one guy make me this crazy. How could it all revolve around him.

“I was doing it for your own good! But clearly I understand why it’s so fucking complicated with your partner-“

“Don’t you dare talk about him,” I seethe. I was mad. Fuming. I want to get physical, I wish I could throttle him or at the very least access one of the pillows from across the room and smash it to the floor. I want him to see how angry I am because my words are twisted with every angle Harry could find. I wanted him to admit to something he’s been skirting for a long time. “Tell me.”

Harry stares at me with hate in his eyes and I know I have the same look. I wasn’t going to let him get away.

“You don’t even have the balls to admit it,” I poke. “Is this why you’re so hard-headed to anything I say? Because you can’t even admit something like this to yourself?”

“Just shut the fuck up y/n and stop being so mental.”

“I refuse to shut up. I want you to talk.”

His breathing gets faster and I watch him flex his hand. He was as angry as I was. Good.

“You’re a fraud. And I hate you.” I step into his space. Our bodies are a hair’s breadth away from each other’s. I want to show him how mad he makes me. I want to do something. I want him to admit this thing he’s been dancing around. It makes me so mad!

When he starts to shake his head at me I lose it. Instinct takes over where I want to physically show him how angry he was making me. I grab his face in my hands and push my mouth against his. I meet teeth.

But it doesn’t take long for him to respond. To correct the unadulterated anger with purpose.

He pushes back, kissing me harder whilst pushing me against the wall. I feel sandwiched, my chest crushed against his and I bite down on his lip trying to get back some control.

My hands are all over him, grabbing his shirt, running through his hair, pushing under his shirt to touch skin. Harry does the same, pulling at my hair and lifting me onto him.

Our tongues clash together, his hand grabs my ass, squeezing and moving up. His hands feel hot on my skin, his metal rings an icy contrast. Neither of us want to give up control. We keep fighting, just now with our bodies.

“Why can’t you ever just let it go,” he traces his teeth over my collarbone. It all feels too much.

In response I push him back, he stares at me for a heated second before we crash into each other again. We don't care where we are. All that mattered was here and showing the other who was in control. Who hated who the most.

Harry pulls away, his mouth a deep pink from our fight. His eyes are half lidded, his pupils dilated. I can tell he wants this but a part of him hesitates.

"We're doing this," I commit, not taking my eyes off his lips.

"I’m doing this," he growls and lifts me up, any hesitancy washed away. I wrap my legs around him, not thinking about anything but what I was going to do.

He whirls me around and deposits me onto the bed, and his body covers mine while his mouth attack my neck.

He wasn't gentle or slow, but then again, I didn't want him to be. I pull off his shirt, not wanting anything between us, not caring that my nails would leave marks down his back. Leaving something permanent on him sounded exactly what I needed.

I tug on his hair as his teeth come down on my chest. I feel heated as he swears, “Teasing me with this top all night was a fucking sin y/n.”

“Fuck off,” I gasp as he figures out the row of clasps at the front and the icy rings of his fingers presses against my sternum. I grit my teeth, “I didn’t wear this for you.”

His abs contract as he pushes himself back up, his eyes dark as his hands find the clasp on my trousers, undoing them with ease and tugging them off. His other hand comes back up to tilt my chin up.

“D’you really hate me?” He asks.

“Yes,” I respond with zero hesitation.

He moves his body, covering mine with his own again. My breath catches in my throat as he presses his lips to my neck, slowly moving down. He drives me crazy with anticipation and I wriggle up to keep up the pace but he holds me in place. I let out a moan as he kisses my inner thighs, his fingers gripping the tops of them. I'm squirming under his hold, the heat pooling inside of me.

“Do you hate me?” He asks again.

“Yes,” I cry, not wanting to relent to him.

“Good,” he says and that’s the last thing I remember.

The rest is a tangle of limbs, an out-of-body sensation, and seismic wave after wave coursing through my body. It’s unlike anything I’ve experienced before; the fury we felt with each other fuzes to the passion of the moment and it blitzes every damn thought out of my head.

Hours later, or maybe the whole night later—I don’t know but all I do know was that my body was spent and I was barely hanging on.

“I can’t,” I plant my hands on his shoulders and nearly pitch forward just from pausing. His hand splays on my back, keeping me in place as he turns us around.

“Okay?” He asks low.

I nod, grateful that he was taking over.

And after riding out what I know would be my last wave he rolls off of me, and we lay there just trying to catch our breaths.

After a few minutes, I sense him tilting towards me, his eyes on my face. When he stares for so long it becomes obvious, I look back at him.

His eyes are not the same ones that started this mess, they’re breezy meadows of green compared to the icy sea glass from before. But it’s not surprising. With each round and each minute we spent with other tonight, things had grown softer. Not gentle, but softer.

And as we look at each other with the awareness that the anger had bled into the threads of these tangled sheets a long time ago, we’re left with something neither of us want to distinguish. At least I don’t.

His gaze holds something too real for a place like this and I quickly look away and back at the ceiling. I feel his eyes on me a moment longer before he himself turns away to stare at the same ceiling.

“Y/N,” someone suddenly calls my name, tapping my cheeks with a gentle pat. I have to pull myself from the depths of wherever the fuck I just went to open my eyes and look up, at Harry. He looks concerned and asks me a question that I don’t register—I was truly out of it. I must have dozed off.

I push his hand away and grab the closest piece of clothing to wrap around myself in which ends up being a sheet. I take myself to the bathroom to clean up.

I hardly recognize the girl in the mirror. My eyes are blown out and my neck looks like it was rammed by a bull. I can hardly look at the rest of me. I would need to buy something high necked before we got picked up tomorrow morning and use all the concealer I had. I know I marked every inch of him I could find too.

I had never felt that level of passion with anyone. It was unnerving.

My knees collapse under me as I sit on the toilet and try to count the tiles on the opposite wall, just to come back to earth. To my body.

I sense a shadow under the door after I’m in there for a while, I watch it move from one side to the other and then move away. I wait longer, nearly falling asleep there before going back out.

The bed looks a right mess and most of the duvet is twisted to the side. I don’t bother with it, I use the sheet I’m wrapped in and crawl right into bed. Harry seems to have fallen asleep too but as I near sleep I feel the bed dip and the heavy weight of the duvet drapes over me.

I don’t have enough clarity or energy tonight to think about what any of this meant but I know I was right about leaving.

***

We return to London on a Wednesday morning and nearly kiss the ground. Harry was still playing two shows here but getting to go back home instead of a hotel room was enough to make us weep.

I didn’t really have a home to go back to. I’d been thinking about that a lot as the tour took us closer and closer to London. I had texted Gray yesterday and we agreed I could crash there until this weekend to get my stuff together.

London had a metaphorical grey fog over it in my mind. Nothing felt appealing about it and the only thing on my mind these days was home—my childhood home.

I already knew I was going to give in my resignation letter to Harry after tour but I had a 3 week period under contract. I don’t think I could afford a hotel for three weeks and staying with any of my friends is out of the question.

These thoughts kept me preoccupied.

It helped me not to think about that night though. I avoided Harry unless it was for work, returning to the solitude of my first few months working for him. He does the same: curt and avoidant. I know others notice but nobody dares to ask.

It was the most intense thing I’d done in my whole life and that was saying something. There was a way that Harry got under my skin that nobody else could. And it was hard to find a balance after the scales had shifted so far in that direction.

I felt like I had to block it out until I could have space to process it. And yet memories still seeped through when I was quiet for a moment too long or when he’d walk past me with the same cologne as that night and I’d catch a whiff. I was doubly sure this chapter had to close.

When I get back to the flat on Wednesday Gray has vanished as he promised. He told me he’d drop by that evening to talk. Surprisingly, I felt calm about it. I don’t know if it was getting all of that ferocious energy out that had been churning for months, but I feel level-headed and I appreciate the space to myself.

Gray texts me before he arrives. Like this wasn’t the flat he was now paying for alone.

I know what he wanted to talk about—we were all supposed to go to Harry’s last show at the o2 since I had tickets for everyone. Josie was stoked and based on the way she’s been texting me leading up to the day I don’t think she knew. Gray confirms it.

“So,” he rubs the back of his neck. He looked nice in a beanie and corduroy jacket. I wonder if any of the effort was for me, then vanish the thought.

“So,” I echo.

We stand awkwardly across from each other—him propping himself up behind the couch and me leaning against the dining table. Like we needed to get as much furniture between us. Like we hadn’t shared a bed a few weeks ago.

“We should sit?”

“Yeah,” he attempts a laugh and sits on the sofa. I choose the closest chair and turn it to face him. “Yeah. Um, I don’t know how you feel about Saturday. But I haven’t told Josie yet. I haven’t really told anyone.”

I nod, “Me too. Not really. People at work think we’re on a break.”

“Right. Good.” He says. “I’m not tryna lie to people but I don’t really want to get into it…”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “So Josie?”

“I’ll let her know once…once you move out?”

Move out. Of this flat. It’s been home for nearly 3 years.

Gray had surprised me with it when he found it—I had been broke and only been able to pitch in for utilities and groceries but he’d been gracious. He’d been supportive once. But I guess his support had boundaries too. I didn’t entirely blame him for that.

“Sounds good. Or later, maybe when she’s done her exams.”

He leans back on the couch, arms spread over the back and sighs as he studies me. “Yeah of course. I should’ve thought of that. You’re always good at that stuff. She’s gonna be gutted.”

I nod. Not sure what to say to that.

“So you’ll be out on Saturday yeah?” He asks after a while. It seemed both of us had a lot on our minds. But his question stings a little.

“Yep. I’m off for most of the week so I’ll just pack things up. Uhm, with Josie and whatnot I guess we’re still acting like a couple? Will that be weird?”

“Yeah. It will be but we’ve got no other option.”

“Right.” I respond. His voice grows an edge I’m not a fan of. “Well. Thanks for letting me stay here. If you need anything else I guess you can grab it now.”

I want to ask how he’s doing, who he’s staying with, and just hold his face one last time to really remember. But his cold apathy grows like frostbite over the room and creeps into my heart. I always thought where there was love there would always be love but I’m not as sure tonight.

I stay busy and when I can’t sleep at night; I map out a dream, an exit plan home. I write up my resignation letter, I look at flights and rentals and talk things out with my family, I cancel wedding and couple shit, and grieve a fair bit.

On Friday afternoon, my only formal shift this week, I head to Harry’s with an anxious weight in my chest and a buzz in my head from the hope. Hope that this chapter of my life could end soon, and I can head home and recuperate and plan out what my life was going to look like.

Harry’s on a call when I get in. He spares me a glance but I head to the office with my stack of mail. Today was mostly for some housekeeping/admin but I hope to avoid Harry for the most part like I’ve done since that night. My letter sits like a bar of gold in my bag.

I hear him move about the flat. I restock some pantry items, and we speak as little as possible. Going with him to his meeting was my final task for today so I decide it’s a good time to hand in my letter.

I find him sitting in the studio, tapping a pen against the table.

“Mr. Styles?”

“Hm?” He drags his eyes away from his screen to look at me.

“So we’re heading to your meeting in 10. Before then I just wanted to hand this in.”

The envelope stays outstretched in my hand and he eyes it, not taking it.

“What is that?”

“Can you just take it?” I shake it a little, like a bag of treats for a puppy.

His muscles move one inch every ten seconds, that’s how slow he is to sit up in his seat and finally take the letter from my hands. I almost let out a big sigh of relief. The process was finally in place.

“What is it?” He asks again, tearing the corner and down the side like he usually did.

I wait for him to unfold the thirds before answering, “my resignation letter.”

His eyes scan the sheet left to right right to left and when he looks up at me it’s hard to say what he’s thinking.

“Is this a joke?”

“No? Obviously not? I’m handing in my 3 weeks. I’ll also email a copy to Jeff and you.”

“Why are you doing this?” He stands, his tall frame rigid.

“Why? Because I’m…I’m quitting? I think I’ve learned everything I could here a-and it’s time to move on.”

By here I don’t mean working for Harry Styles and co but just here as in London. I’ve learned a fuck ton of life lessons here, and it was time to process them elsewhere.

“Is this to get back at me somehow? I don’t understand,” the papers crinkle in his fist as he grips it tighter. “Do you want a raise? Can we talk about this?”

“No.” I say and even though there’s so much more I could say I think that sums up my answer.

He looks puzzled, then annoyed. Just then my phone buzzes. The car was downstairs.

I grab my laptop and we head down. I was coming along to take minutes and then head home. In the car I reassure Harry,

“I plan on wrapping things up in the next three weeks and making sure everything is set up for an easy transition. I’ll leave continuity notes and reach out to people I regularly communicate with to break the news. The next couple months are pretty easy anyway coming out of tour and going on holiday so there should be plenty of time for the new PA, whoever your hire, to catch up.”

He doesn’t say a word. It reminds me of our first drive to the studio together. How naïve I was. How things changed.

He continues staring out the window, resting his face on his fist. I remember my teeth dragging over that jaw. I blink the image away; this was why I had to go.

When we get to Graham’s office Harry tells Jeff, “we don’t need minutes.”

Jeff looks over at me for answers and I shrug. I guess I came here for no reason but at least I had my laptop to work.

“Uh y/n please come i-“

“She’s fine working out there,” Harry cuts Graham off. Graham looks offended, his gaze drawing between Harry and I. Again, I shrug. I wasn’t leaving today I don’t know why he was acting like it.

For the next hour or so I sit at a spare cubicle and do just as I said in the car. I type out lists for upcoming interviews and studio days. I send emails for information to note for whoever the poor person was to replace me.

I had been keeping the Dos and Don’ts updated over the last year and it feels like a baby the way it came together with so much thought. I was almost sad to part with it.

Nobody tells me the meeting is over. The door simply opens and Harry breezes past.

“I’ll be in the car.” He mutters. Any faster and I would have to hold down the papers around me.

When he’s gone beyond sight, I turn back to the open door.

“What’s the matter with him?” I hear Graham asking inside.

“You keep pushing him,” Jeff responds with irritation. “That’s not his brand Graham.”

“Well that’s a different tune. Prior to this you were singing my praises with these new ideas.”

“I don’t know. Something’s been up with him for…a while-“

“Since that article isn’t it?” Graham references the Harry Styles slander when we were in Spain. Little did they know other things had also happened.

“We dealt with that article.”

Shit, I think. Has he been any different? I think I was keeping too much distance from him to notice.

“Y/n,” my name snaps me out of my thoughts.

“Mhm?” I’m beckoned to the meeting room. “Yes?”

“Find out what’s wrong with him. Or better yet just convince him to be a bit more alive at his last show tomorrow with his usual charm? He hasn’t been his full capacity the last few shows has he?”

Shit. “Um. Burnout?”

The two men look at each other. They make a face like that couldn’t possibly be why. I tell the men what they want to hear, that I’d try to find out and get him back to his charming self (yuck) before joining Harry in the car.

“Jeff and Graham aren’t all that happy with you,” I say when we start driving. Harry was giving me a lift home. “They’re insisting you do it right at your final tomorrow. Be your charming self.”

He grunts in response, head facing the window again. Was he allergic to look forward in the car or something?

“Are you coming?” He asks after a good ten minutes of silence.

“Tomorrow?”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah. I gave my extra tickets to…my fiance,” my brain fumbles my words as it remembers what he was and now is. And the lie I had to keep up. “And his sister and her friend.”

He just nods in acknowledgement, somehow stonier.

When the car pulls up to my familiar building I thank his driver and begin my shimmy out but Harry puts a hand to my knee to stop me. His touch sears right through my stockings and he must feel it too because he slides his hand back.

“Answer this,” he looks at me for the first time tonight. Wow, this really did feel like my first week on the job.

“Sure,” I reply.

“Is it because of that night?”

It’s the first time it’s been mentioned, and his gaze burns brighter than a forest fire. It’s mesmerizing and I can’t look away.

Wait, he wanted an answer.

“It’s because of a lot of things,” I answer truthfully.

He clenches his jaw. Leans back in his seat. The seatbelt reverses to hold him in place again and he’s no longer looking at me. I take that as my cue to go.

***

Josie bursts into the flat dressed to the nines in a groovy floral jumpsuit and boas in her hand. “Don’t worry. I have one for each of us.”

Her friend trails behind her in an equally 70s inspired look.

“That’s what you’re wearing?” Josie judges her brother’s hoodie and jeans. “You’re lowering the vibe Gray do better. Y/n? Why didn’t you brief him?”

“I did!” I eye Gray. “Don’t blame me.”

This was way more awkward than I thought. Or I really was not as good of an actress as I wished.

“What am I supposed to wear?” Gray asks. “I’m not wearing a jumpsuit.”

Josie rolls her eyes. “Y/n please drag him back and find a decent tee or something?”

“Yes ma’am,” I take Gray by the arm and take him back.

“This is kinda weird hey?” I whisper when we close the door.

“I don’t really like it either,” Gray scratches his head. “But it’s for the best.”

I nod and then louder announce, “Well it’s Jo’s night so find something a tad more retro?”

We end up with a red tee and find a belt to tie the look. Josie hugs her brother with thanks when she sees it.

I had on a pair of black bellbottoms paired with a blank tank. My hair was in spacebuns and Josie plucks a few boa feathers to accessorize my hair. It’s cute.

We head off and I have to make a conscious effort to remember my mannerisms with Gray before all this. I feel woozy while I slide my hand into his on the ride there, as Josie snaps our pics on her disposable, as she tells us to get one of us where Gray’s kissing my cheek and she’ll save it to show our kids. It makes me sick.

He keeps an arm on my waist as we walk. I want this night to be over so bad but every time I look Josie’s way I perk back up a little. I wanted her to enjoy this.

And she does. I’m sure she’s lost her voice by the end of the concert. At one point we drift away a little and breathe easier to drop the act but when she’s back Gray wraps his arms around me from behind and we act like a happy couple. Again, I felt sick.

Being in Gray’s arms held none of the spark it used to. I just feel awkward and sad.

At one point Harry looks my way, I don’t know how he spotted me in such a big crowd. It’s between songs and he looks at the group I’m with. I give a pathetic wave and he nods ever so slightly, his gaze sliding off soon after. Gray’s arm tightens around my shoulder and my heart gives a squeeze in response. I’m reminded: this era was ending.

The band told me to meet them backstage at the end, to join in on the final-show celebration. Josie and Gray would wait at a local pub and with the way Josie’s Instagram stories were glowing I could imagine her sitting there uploading it all.

“I couldn’t have done it without any of you,” I catch Harry saying as I slip behind stage with my pass. “I know I’ve not been the easiest to be with but you all sit in my heart. This is our Euro tour, concluded.”

Somebody pops bubbly and I congratulate the whole team as they drink. They insist on going out for proper drinks and I’m denied not going. They tell me to invite my guests to party with them and I know, based on where we were going, Josie was going to flip.

Juniper, a club that gets us all in on Harry’s face card, is opulent and lively on the inside. Josie is buzzing about with her friend—Gray had opted to go home, claiming he had early morning sessions. Josie didn’t think twice about him, but we pretended to go back and forth with a final warning from Gray to Josie to behave.

“He’s a broody one,” Charlie comments on Gray as we chatter while we get drinks. “Sister?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t know yet though so,” I put my finger to my lip.

“So no Barcelona dancing tonight?” Sarah teases. I laugh and tell them to keep me tamed. “We gotta do some shots with the team though where is everyone?”

We gaze around the room and manage to get everyone together. After one round of shots and another that Harry forced on all of us I feel the tension I’ve been carrying with me most days slide away.

We end up sticking together as a group and dance together, laughing and cheering each other on. Even Harry’s in a cheery mood—I suspect the alcohol. I catch him watching me at one point and when I raise my brow he takes my hand and spins me in a friendly twirl. I trip on my wide-legged pants and he catches me from behind. With my back to his chest I have the urge to turn around and kiss him and feel the peculiar comfort I had received from him before. That thought drives me away from him again. Despite the tight knit group there’s too much between us to even attempt being close.

I call it quits when Josie finds me and announces she was going home. I hug the newfound family I had made over the last few months one final goodbye, knowing I might never see them together like this again.

***

Jeff’s reaction to my news surprises me the most. He’s visibly upset and tries to sell me anything to stay. I tell him there was nothing to keep me at my job but I would rely on him for a good reference. I think it’s the first time he’s ever reassured me.

Between Harry and I it remains curt. Sometimes even edgy. I post my own job replacement and Jeff keeps me updated on potential candidates. By the time my last week rolls around I’m host to a roil of emotions.

The first week homeless, Charlie had let me crash on her couch and promised not to say a word to anyone. I didn’t want to overstay my welcome and so I had checked into a hotel and called it home for now.

I’m on my way back home to the hotel after being at Gray’s. We’d invited Josie over for dinner now that her exams were over and she’d been suspicious from the start.

We had told her the truth and she refused to believe it, hurt and betrayal in her eyes as she looked at me and realized she had been kept in the dark for the last week. I felt worse then, than I did when Gray and I called it quits.

I promised her a lunch together this week to talk more. Just because I was out of Gray’s life didn’t mean I had to be out of hers. I thought I could also tell her then that I was leaving to go back home.

On my second last day at work, Harry sends me on an errand near the end of the day. When I get back there’s a small group of friendly and familiar faces waiting to surprise me. I’m touched by the gesture, and I try to corner Harry to say thank you but it feels he avoids me at every chance, always in a larger crowd.

I finally catch him while I’m heading out of the bathroom and he’s heading down the hall.

“Oh hey,” I step in his way. He looks cornered. “I just wanted to say thanks for throwing this.”

“Yeah,” he gestures it was nothing. “It was Jeff’s idea.”

Ouch. I hide the sting. “Well. Thanks regardless.”

He nods, staying mute, but his eyes speak a thousand words—just none that I can read. They stay trained on me, communicating whatever.

Slowly the furrow between his brows eases and the sharp edges of his face give way to a softened expression. I’m scared to move in case I break the trance and don’t get to hear whatever his racing thoughts spit out. Just when it looks like he’s about to say something, a guest turns the corner up the hall.

“Anyone in the toilet?” It was Mitch. Damnit.

“Nope,” I step out of the way, inadvertently brushing Harry. A shiver runs up my spine and I try to act casual but he stiffens beside me. Was it that awful being around me, jeez.

I give up. If he wanted to continue staying moody, so be it. I leave to go back to the party and don’t look back.

My final days in London are hard. The same way I arrived, I go: alone and unsure of what’s ahead.

I always thought here was where I would stay forever. And maybe one day I would return but there was a little too much friction between me and the Capital.

I finish work on an unremarkable note after going through processes with the new hire, and dotting all of my i’s. Harry is nowhere to be seen and I’m gone before he gets back. I’m frustrated that he’s behaving this way but there’s also too much between us for the simple goodbye I yearn for.

I visit all of my old favourites, have one last drink at my old local pub somewhere in between Gray’s flat and Harry’s. I shed a lot of tears on my pilgrimage through the city’s veins. I promise the paved and cobblestone roads I would be back one day.

The walls of my lungs ease open on the flight home. Still, tears cascade down my face silently as the plane sleeps. Eventually I do too. When I wake the sky is filled with bright blinding sunrise, and American soil peeks out below me: I was finally home.

••••••••••••••••••••

Present (2 years on):

My heart flutters seeing Harry here, I chalk it up to anxiety. But it annoys me that despite all the distance and the growth, he still had an effect on me.

Harry’s head turns and before I can be smart about it our eyes lock. His eyebrows raise ever so slightly before his face falls into a nonchalant facade again. I don’t even want to know what my face looked like.

Then he gets the nerve to smirk, hang his head, and then grab his drink and walk towards me.

“If I had a cross I would be holding it up right now.” I have to shout a little so he hears me before he gets to me. He was an emotional vampire feeding on all of mine.

“Now why’s that?” He continues towards me. My emotions swirl through me. “I thought time heals all wounds. Why the unfriendly welcome Mrs. Duran?”

I grit my teeth at the name, he was still filled with poison. “Right, the timeless wisdom of clichés.”

“I like to think I’m pretty timeless.” He smiles.

“I’ve found that time may heal wounds, but scars make sure you never forget.”

“Well, scars aside, you look good,” he moves on and I feel like an idiot the way I was used to feeling around him.

“Of course I do.”

“What are you doing in London? Last I checked I was getting a reference check from America.”

I debate not answering him but I was trying to straddle the line between indifference and confidence. It was like walking a tightrope.

“I’m in London for a little while,” I give vaguely.

“Ah,” he smiles and damnit I forgot how handsome he could be. How handsome could then turn into seductive so quickly. I had to remember: Still a devil. “Are you looking for a new employer? Because I could be hiri-“

“No.” I cut him off. “I finally have a job I love so I’m good.”

Something flickers in his eyes but surprisingly he stays quiet.

“What are you doing here?” I ask. I sort of wish I still had a drink in my hand, they feel awkward and clunky and I want to avoid playing with my hair. Gah. “Global star drinks alone at his local bar?”

He laughs but I can tell I hit a minor nerve. “Here I’m just a local. Always have been—it’s nice to be anonymous for a little bit.”

I roll my eyes. I didn’t believe that for a second. He loved his fame and everything that came with it.

Plus I used to come here all the time, I would’ve known if my employer was a local too. He was lying for some reason.

“Mr. Styles if there’s one thing I remember about you, you’d choose death over anonymity.”

“Firstly,” he leans in and I get a whiff of his usual cologne with a hint of malt. “A person can change a lot. So maybe you don’t know me as much as you think you do-“

“Oh I don’t think anyone can change that drastically in only a year-“

“You seemed to have.”

His words take mine out of my mouth. I hadn’t changed, not really. I’d always been this y/n but the further I got away from him the more reassured I had gotten being that y/n.

“And secondly,” he continues before I could think of a response. “You no longer work for me. Harry is fine.”

The smile he throws me is almost sweet if I didn’t know the cruelty that could hide underneath. I don’t return the smile, I only raise my brow and look back down at my phone. My cell service hasn’t gotten any better and I’d missed the wifi password.

I could connect to Harry’s wifi, ask him so that I could order an uber.

I’d rather van gogh my ear.

I weigh all my options and consider the last one again. I look up to see what Harry was doing in the silence and find him looking at me. A shiver runs up my spine as our eyes clash. So much history and words unspoken fall in between. A very specific night flashes through my mind. I wonder if it does him because he looks down first. Damn.

“So I’ve gotta get going,” I say.

“Let me buy you a drink.” He says at the same time.

He laughs awkwardly and repeats, “One drink?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“We’re not drinking buddies.” I pull my purse to my chest, wanting to hop off this stool and run home if I need to. Put as much distance between myself and this man that was put on this earth to confuse me.

“Then what are we y/n?” He asks, his voice silky smooth as he leans in. The voice that whispered sweet nothings into my ear in my worst nightmares, nightmares of cotton sheets and heated limbs, of passion and shame.

“Ex-employer,” I point to him. I point to myself, “Ex-employee.”

“Exes have drinks together,” he grins full well knowing the double meaning.

“Never ends well,” I eye the door.

“Just as stubborn as I remember.”

“And you were saying people change?” I raise my brow.

He drops the smile and sighs, “I’m not gonna be able to convince ya am I?”

I shake my head. He should know that by now.

“Can I walk you out at least?”

I shrug, couldn’t hurt.

“What is this?” I ask as he opens the door for me.

“What?”

“This? Why are you trying to be so friendly?”

“I thought we could be friendly exes.”

And when did he get so cheeky.

“Something weird is going on,” I watch him stay in step with me as I walk up. With no service I was going to take the tube. “And I don’t like it.”

“Nothing weird is going on don’t get all paranoid on me.”

“Don’t call me paranoid! You never call a woman paranoid.”

“I thought that was conspiracy theorists?”

“Nooo. You’re being weird.”

"Alright, no need to get all Freudian on me. Just trying to be a decent human here."

I shake my head, somehow in our exchange my face had decided it was okay to smile. To forget what he put me through and remember instead that when things were good between us we actually got along.

Damnit. The devil knew how to play tricks. I wipe the smile off my face while he continues walking with me.

“So…what have you been up to?” He asks.

“Working, you know me.” I say after trying to figure out what his angle was but unable to find one.

“Oretta Smith I hear, how did you manage that?”

“I’m just that good Harry,” I say. His name is weird in my mouth. Sure I called him that in my head but I usually used Mr. Styles. I can tell he feels the same with his quick glance my way.

“How do you like that?”

“Yeah, she’s a great employer like I said. Very professional. Lots of flexibility.” Each praise is a knock to his ego. But it was all true, plus with Winnie joining the team I had a friend my age that felt great.

But there was also a darker side called burnout that I barely admitted to myself. Ever since we landed in London and I had time to orient my new self in a city that molded my old self, I felt the familiar singe of purposeless. But I keep it to myself of course.

“Great.” Harry responds curtly. “What about yourself? How’s your life, are you finally married?”

My instinct is to raise my defences and chew him out, he must know Gray and I were done what with me living in the States.

And yet, when I peer past the defences and take a long hard look at him I realize he is asking earnestly and without another angle.

We’re nearing the tube now. I hesitate in lying or telling the truth.

“We broke up,” I choose to confess. I peek at him and he looks surprised, even sorry.

“I didn’t know. Sorry.”

“I’d hope not,” I reply. “Otherwise you’d be an asshole calling me Mrs. Duran.”

He huffs an awkward laugh.

“Anyway this is me—

“I can give you a ride home—wherever that is right now?” He asks.

We’re stood in front of the glass doors. There’s not a lot of people this time of night. And as tempting as his offer was, the way he looks at me right now sends poisonous butterflies to my stomach and I think it’s best I get home for the big day tomorrow and not make any regrets.

“I’m not too far,” I lie. I point a thumb to the doors behind me. “I’m just gonna…”

“Yeah. Yeah right.” He’s awkward, which is a first. He clears his throat and stuffs his hand into his pocket. I watch him with a removed sort of curiosity. Eventually he coughs out his question. “How long are you in London for?”

“A few weeks,” I reply.

He finally meets my eyes again—and there goes my stomach. He was supposed to have zero effect on me, I was supposed to stay mad at him. Why was my body betraying me? Why did it continue to loop memories from that night and remind me of the things he whispered in the dark?

“A few weeks,” he murmurs back.

His gaze travels over my face openly, no longer holding back the barely-hidden expressions from before. Because I told him Gray and I weren’t a thing? Because I was entertaining whatever bullshit this was?

“Yep,” I nod. Awkward. Nervous. Cautious.

“My number’s the same,” his eyes snap back to mine. “If you want to go for that drink later.”

“Harry,” I try to break it to him another way. I wish I could just say I never want that drink. “I don’t think-“

“Don’t think,” he cuts me off. He laughs when I furrow my brows. “I mean, I’m right here for most of the next few weeks. When you feel like you want to have that drink just give me a call. Or text.”

Why, I want to ask him. Why, after all this time, after everything that happened? And it’s like he reads my mind in the silence.

“I know you left on a pretty poor note.” He shuffles his feet. “I know a lot of that was my fault. I apologize for that. Um, but I did enjoy having you around. You were excellent at your job and…you are missed. Even Jeff remembers you fondly. Which is saying something.”

This was some sort of prank. Or Harry had gotten so famous he now had a doppelgänger roaming the streets as him. It couldn’t be that Harry, my Harry, would say something so sentimental and so…genuine.

“So uh yeah, I would love to see you again while you’re in town.” He says when I don’t respond.

“Right.” I choke out.

He shrugs when I can’t bring myself to say anything more. “We do change, whether you believe it or not y/n.”

I swallow, hoping to lubricate my vocal cords and find my voice. “I-I really do have to go.”

Crestfallen, he nods. His hand comes up to touch my elbow. “Yeah ‘course. Just…think about it?”

I look down at his hand and he lets go, we stay in another bubble of silence. His eyes flicker down to my lips and I feel a wave of warmth as I try not to do the same.

“Goodnight,” I blurt and get to the other side of the glass doors. He watches me go.

On the escalator down I risk a glance back and he’s still there, watching until I’m out of sight. That ended incredibly awkward.

Leave it up to Harry to confuse me in coming back into my life. Damn him, he could never be consistent.

***

Waking up super early to catch the train out to Cambridge is so worth it because I get to watch Josie walk the stage and graduate with distinction wearing her famous smile that beams over the vast room.

Despite what happened with Gray and I, Josie and I have kept in touch steadily over the last year. It started as weekly facetimes which reduced down to monthly calls and have now become a steady stream of texts and memes swapped back and forth.

When she found out I’d be in London around her graduation dates she gave me no choice but to show up, sending me a ticket without asking.

I knew I’d see Gray, and a part of me was nervous and curious how that was going to go. But mostly I was grateful to still be in Josie’s life and spend time with her in person. She was the part of this life I missed most.

I’m sat somewhere in the middle of the room and Josie was smart enough not to seat me with the rest of her guests. But I know I would see everyone during photos and the dinner we were having later on. I try keep my focus on the ceremony however.

“Y/N!” Josie rushes towards me when she sees me after the ceremony. The group she departs from I recognize is a mix of her girl friends, her family, and a few others.

“Josie!” I return the same energy and she leaps into my arms. I squeeze her tight to me. “I’m soo proud of you my girl.”

We sway side to side, until we get enough hug.

“Look at you!” She exclaims when she leans back. “Your hair looks amazing and you are glowing. Please tell me you have a boy in your life.”

“No,” I laugh.

“A girl?” She asks hesitantly.

“No! I’m just…happy where I am right now! How about you look at you! You look phenomenal as per.”

“Oh thanks,” she takes the compliment and giggles. “I asked my dad to grad gift me a salon and spa visit so I am rejuvenated and blown out.”

“Aren’t you ever,” I touch a lock of her hair. “Congratulations.”

“Eek!” She squeals. “Finally finished this hellscape! I can’t wait to never write an exam again—ooh wait I want you to meet my boy…”

“So that’s why we’re actually glowing,” I tease as she tugs me towards the group. That definitely has Gray. My stomach drops the closer we get, he doesn’t seem to notice. He looks busy talking to one of Josie’s friends.

“Anyway,” she deposits me in front of a 6 foot something guy made of angles. “This is Jax. My boyfriend. We met during a Friendsgiving Myles threw last year.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jax smiles. “Y/N right?”

“Yes!”

“I was supposed to get around to that,” Josie huffs.

“Sorry she talked about you a lot when she found out you were coming. She was really excited.”

“Ugh,” she turns to me like she was embarrassed but her face is glowing. Josie was in looove.

“You two are so cute,” I tease which just makes Josie blush a little harder. “So are we getting any pictures?”

“Oh yeah,” Jax swivels his head. “Liliya has the good camera if you want to get-“

“Oh we can use our phones,” Josie cuts him off.

“No get the high res one—Liliya, camera?” Jax motions a shuttering action to the friend Gray was talking to. He’s so tall above the crowd that both look up at him and comply.

“Y/N,” Josie drags my arms back and takes me on the outskirt of the crowd. “I’m so sorry I never mentioned because I thought you wouldn’t come if I did tell you but you-“

“Y/N?”

Josie’s rushed whispers are cut short when Gray notices me and calls my name. He looks stupefied. I spare a glance to Josie and she’s paled.

She didn’t tell him.

“Hey,” I force a friendly tone. I was going to kill that girl.

“Did you all want a photo?” Josie’s friend Liliya shoulders her way back into the circle with the camera on a strap. She turns to Gray, “Babe?”

It’s an odd sensation, like all oxygen has left my lungs and they’re being squeezed as if tightened in a vice. Gray’s eyes drag away from me to his…girlfriend? Definitely not Josie’s friend.

It shakes me in the moment how much I realize I still cared, still carried a shred of hope for…something. And not consciously knowing this makes this moment feel a little like a slap in the face.

What did I think? I was going to leave this country for a year and people were going to pause where I last left them? Of course Gray’s moved on. Aside from the end he was a great partner and anybody would want that.

These thoughts race through my head in the few seconds Gray responds to his girlfriend and I look at Josie. She looks guilty as charged.

“I tried to tell you just now?” She whispers.

Deep breaths, I remind myself. You’re not the hot-headed y/n these people knew last. This day is not about you. It’s about Josie.

“It’s cool. Let’s get some photos,” I smile. “Don’t want to miss having them with you.”

She sighs but keeps her eyes on my face as we walk farther out.

“I am really sorry,” she whispers.

“Hey it’s alright,” I lie. This was the worst of it—Gray had moved on, had a great girlfriend, and I was living the life I wanted. No harm and no foul. “Honestly Jo I get it, you wanted me here reallllly bad.”

“I did!” She says. “But I’m also gonna kill Jax.”

I laugh and we straighten up when we realize the camera was already pointed at us. Josie flashes her degree and a few of her friends join the pictures too. We hustle back to Gray to see them and flipping back on the first few makes my breath catch in my throat. There’s one in particular where Josie is turned to me talking and my mouth is in a big grin because I’m laughing.

I catch eyes with Gray in an uncomfortably intimate second.

“Send me that one for sure wow Gray that’s a really good shot.”

“Oh wow,” his girlfriend peers over. “That’s a great candid.”

“Yeah,” I agree. I’d love a copy too. And of course that’s when Gray’s girlfriend notices me and introduces herself.

“I don’t think we’ve met—is that an American accent I detect?”

“It is,” I smile. “I’m Y/N.”

“Oh!” Two spots of pink appear on her face. It seems she’s heard of me. “Well it’s nice to meet you—nice that Josie invited you! I’m Liliya but Lily works too.”

“C’mon!” Josie interrupts the awkward by grabbing her brother’s arm and pushes him in the direction of where her friends are posing for photos. He takes some shots but Josie hates the look of them and gives the camera to Lily instead.

With just Gray and I left behind it grows very awkward.

“I thought Josie told everyone I would be-“ I say just as he says, “I didn’t realize you would be-“

We stop and chuckle awkwardly.

“Sorry,” I shake my head.

“No,” he shrugs. “It’s cool. It’s cool you’re here actually.”

“Okay,” is all I can say. Until the awkward silence stretches. “So…Liliya?”

“Yeah. Yeah, Liliya. You?”

I want to lie, but I shake my head. “No. Sorta needed the year to breathe a little.”

“Fair. How’s America?”

“Oh y’know, still super-sized and politically a guessing game.”

“Have you turned on our news while you’ve been down at all?” He raises a brow. I laugh because he was right. It was all a shitshow everywhere.

He asks me about my family as Josie jogs up to us.

“Okay, tell me the truth is my hair going flat?”

“No,” I look behind her where her friends are hovering over Lily and the camera going over their photos.

“Good. Where’s mum and dad?” Josie asks Gray. “Dad was just here 10 minutes ago he said he’d come by for—oh there’s mum! Look!”

We turn to where she points. Michelle—what I’ve always called Gray’s mom, spots her daughter at the same time and waves. She starts to walk towards us.

It’s nice to see her but I also feel a bit nervous; going cold turkey on relationships you only had because of an ex are always weird to come back to. Especially ones you were fond of.

“Mum! You’re missing all the pictures!” Josie says. “Where’ve you been!?”

“I just saw somebody I knew back from my first job as a librarian can you believe that?” Michelle says as she joins the group.

“Crazy. Well mum look who got to show up today! Isn’t that crazy too?”

Michelle looks at me and the bright smile that was intended for her daughter dies like a flower in overnight frost. The look wipes the anticipation off my face.

“Who?”

That one word shades the sun from the sky and brings forth a gust of western winds through the group.

“Mum,” Josie look between me, her mum, and Gray. She’s confused. “Y/N?”

“Hey Michelle,” I croak. Maybe my hair was too different for her to recognize me, or maybe she had early onset alzheimers. Surely this woman who I’ve had a better relationship with than her own son has wouldn’t be treating me like your worst frenemy at your high school reunion.

But Michelle looks right through me. I can’t explain how it feels, not in the moment. I’m gutted, and feel an unexplainable wave of sadness.

“Mum…” Josie sounds hurt and Gray finally decides to swoop in.

“Mum let’s check out the photos we took already. We gotta get some of the three of us.”

They walk away and I feel seven inches tall but I turn to Josie with a brave face and face her teary one.

“That was kind of awkward,” I downplay.

“Y/N I’m honestly so sorry I-,” Josie blinks rapidly.

“No it’s ok!”

“I don’t know why she acted like that-“

“Hey It’s natural for her to feel that way I’m alright don’t get upset-“

“It’s not alright though! That was such a…she never acts like that.”

It was true. Michelle was a free-spirit as she called herself. That’s why Gray had such a hard relationship with her; in his words, she was too emotional and ungrounded for him.

Yet apparently, she was able to find enough ground to stand on when it came to treating me like a nobody. I wonder if it’s because she heard Gray’s biased side of the story or she was hurt herself—still, the way she’s always talked about herself never struck me as someone who would believe a one-sided story. Or be a bitch to someone they previously called their daughter. It hurt like a mofo.

I didn’t want Josie to find out this way, here of all places, that her mom was just human after all. She idolized that woman.

So even though it hurt, I comfort her instead.

“She probably just feels betrayed by me leaving and stuff since we were close too. Imagine if Jax broke up with you and she gave him the cold shoulder—wouldn’t you feel justified?”

Josie scrunches her brows to think about the simplified story I’ve just fed her to feel better. I can tell it still doesn’t sit well with her but she nods in acceptance, “I guess.”

“Yeah, just forget it Josie. Plus you’ve got pictures to take so dry those eyes.”

“Shit I know,” she blinks some more. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to invite you here and twist the knife at every bloody turn.”

“Jo I’m honoured to get to be here and see all your hard work pay off. Don’t worry about anything else.”

“It’s unfair,” she says before she drifts to her group of friends. “I feel like nobody understands how…how understanding you are. But I’m really glad we’re still in touch. And you came for me.”

Her words bring tears to my eyes and I nod, afraid that talking would bring them forward. I watch her crash her group and start instructing photo coordination. I help hold things for people while they take photos and feel like a stranger outside the crowd. If it weren’t for Josie, I think I would have regretted coming here. I feel homesick and unwanted. A tough combo.

I was supposed to crash on someone’s couch tonight and do brunch with Josie tomorrow before going back to London but from the last half hour alone I know I’m going back to the city no matter how late it gets tonight. I think of the hotel room that was home right now, of how lonely that was going to feel to go back to too.

Home right now was in America, in the same time zone as my family, and comfortable in my shared apartment with one of my high school best friends who I reconnected with after going back home. I miss it so bad. And I feel like I’ve bitten into an unripe fruit coming back to the UK before I was ready apparently. My experience feels soured.

I shake off the doom and gloom when the party breaks. We were all going to meet at the restaurant at 6–my plan was to explore the university city and find a place to kill some time in. Maybe go outside to a park with lunch. Josie tries to convince me to join her and her friends for their mid-day celebration but I lie and tell her I had some work to do.

I call Winnie on my stroll through the city. I insist she update me on last night first, and she has more to tell—the guy had a yacht and he was inviting her to a party tonight. She tells me to join if I came back early and we cross our fingers that Oretta wouldn’t need her before then.

I originally called her to rant about Michelle and Gray but I don’t, I didn’t want to kill her vibe. So I scroll through my other contacts but don’t want to worry my mom and it was too early back home to reach anyone else.

My eyes catch on Harry’s name, he was at the top of my texts currently because he sent me a link this afternoon asking me for thoughts on it. I hadn’t opened it yet, I wasn’t sure what to think about this new persona he was wearing or that he thought yesterday’s run-in went okay enough to casually message me for my thoughts.

I remember the weird electricity of yesterday and shove my phone back into my pocket.

He genuinely wanted to have a drink? And talk??

I did enjoy having you around. You were excellent at your job and you are missed.

Was he trying to make up for his cruel words? But he also seemed a lot more mellow than before. Maybe that was just because I didn’t work for him. What did he want? And was I twisted for believing the new schtick?

Most curious of all was him at the pub in the first place. He was not a local there—that was a big lie.

I try to conjure up my previous hatred, calling him the Devil in my head. But it’s harder to do. Seeing him yesterday, he was just a man standing in front of a woman with a head full of cautionary tales and bad experiences.

Without warning images from that night come back and I feel my heart flutter. I shut them down just as quick. Not all bad, my body tries to remind me. I tell it to shut up.

I’ve barely stepped foot in this country again and already my mind was running circles around my heart. How exhausting.

***

I’m early to the restaurant, before anyone else apparently. As the hostess finds my name on her floor plan Josie comes in behind me with Jax.

“Oh! Y/n you’re early!” She seems flustered.

“Yeah I didn’t think I would be,” it was only a few minutes to 6.

We make small talk while we’re led to the table, Josie’s eyes keep darting to where our table might be.

“Sorry I was hoping to do this before you came,” she says when we get there. There are name cards along the 7 seats and she picks the one in front of me. “I’m just gonna move mum to my other side so it doesn’t get weird. Which means she’ll be closer to dad but…I think he’s bailing since his girlfriend doesn’t want to do this.”

Josie shrugs, I know how she feels about her dad’s girlfriend. She begins explaining the plans she has to do dinner with her dad later this week and the more she talks the more I can tell that she feels awkward. And I hate that it’s because of me. At one point Jax and I catch eyes and pass an awkward smile.

“Josie,” I walk up to her fiddling with the name tags. She stops talking immediately. I grip her shoulders. “Thanks.”

“Sorry,” she whispers. I wrap my arms around her and she melts into me.

“Stop apologizing.”

“Sorry. I can’t help it. It’s a disease.”

We let go with a laugh and she seems more stable. “This is going to be fine.”

Famous last words.

It’s definitely not fine and very awkward. Jax ends up sitting in front of me, and even though Liliya’s name tag was beside mine it’s suddenly swapped as they slide in and Gray sits beside me. I guess it might be too awkward for her but not awkward enough to fit someone we both dated between us.

I can sense Michelle’s pinched face as she notices us sitting beside each other and I feel badly for Josie the most as she tries to play the gracious host. At one point I sense Jax laying a hand on her arm and taking over, asking Michelle questions about her yoga and getting her talking.

“Did you need more?” Gray turns to me with the wine bottle, it’s the second thing he’s said to me tonight. Otherwise he mostly just watches me talk and leans back enough when others are talking so I can be involved.

“I’m okay,” I whisper. I didn’t want to draw any attention while Michelle was talking. She hadn’t said a peep to me, even when Josie tried to involve us both in a shared memory. She continued acting like I was Casper the ghost.

I can feel Lily’s eyes on us as Gray offers wine, of course they would be. No wonder Gray barely spoke to me all night. Fuck me, what was I doing here.

Jax is a sweetheart, asking me about my job and encouraging conversation between the both of us. I’m so happy for Josie that she found a partner like him.

By the time dinner is over I mostly want to cry. I feel spent. But I also feel like I crashed an intimate dinner and everyone’s polite enough not to mention it. Despite Josie, I do actually regret coming.

As we pay the bill and shuffle out, Josie grabs my arm.

“So I have two friends where you can crash at their place or Jax can sleep over at mine and you can sleep at his or-“

“I think I’m gonna head back to the city.”

Her face falls. But it’s like she knew I was going to say that.

“Sorry Jo. I think you should come to the city next week—maybe visit your brother? And while you’re down we’ll do brunch then. I’m mostly free while I’m here. I’m just pretty tired and have to help Winnie with something tomorrow.”

“Really?” She says in the smallest voice I’ve heard out of her. Salt to my wounds.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I know we were looking forward to getting time together.”

She juts out her lip and I’m reminded of the girl I met when I first started dating Gray. How she’d taken to me so quickly. How the whole family had. How things could end up like this.

And suddenly I see the future laid out in front of me. After tonight it would be hard to keep this relationship going—Josie and I. She’s just seen her mom be an unreasonable bitch for the first time, I can tell she’s been trying to compensate all night but the cracks won’t go away. It’ll always be a sitting duck between us.

We might try to stay in touch, maybe I’d reach out if I was ever in London or if she ever visited the west coast. But this would fizzle out.

She was still young and naive enough that her mom hung the moon and stars; mom’s beliefs were gospel, her opinions were rulings, and she’d just delivered my ultimate sentence: I was a black sheep to the family. How could sweet Josie walk through a mess like that?

“I’m so proud of you,” I tell her as I fight tears. “Congratulations again and thank you for inviting me.”

“Thanks. And you don’t have to be so nice. I know it was kind of a shitty invite.”

“No,” I insist. “I loved being here. I don’t regret showing up for you. I can’t wait to hear what you get up to.”

“I’m going to make sure to make it to the city next week,” she squeezes my arm. “We’ll see each other soon.”

“Exactly,” I look over at the rest of the group, where her boyfriend waits for her. Her family. “And I really like Jax, so good on you for that.”

“He…” she twists her lips, swallowing what she was going to say before vomiting it out. “I always aspired to have a relationship like yours and Gray’s. I never wanted to settle for anything less so that’s…that’s why Jax.”

“Hm I think you made us the bar and you leapt over it babe,” I wrap my arms around her again. I ache with the loss of what we used to be.

“See you soon,” she says before she drags herself back to the group.

I stand off to the side, awkwardly ordering an Uber. The group begins to walk the opposite way waving bye to me. I breathe easier without the weight of them around.

As I tap my foot in anticipation of the ride to the station arriving, I feel a hand tap my shoulder.

“Y/n,” it’s Gray. “Hey I…I just wanted to say something before you left.”

“Oh. Hey yeah. Shoot.”

What was it with everyone wanting to say something to me.

“Uh…ok give me a minute,” he laughs in the way I know to mean he was feeling nervous. “I just sort of jogged back impulsively.”

“Yeah well you have,” I glance at my phone. “4 or so minutes.”

“Damn,” he ruffles his hair. “Alright. I think I just wanna say sorry.”

“Oh.” That was it. Everyone had something to say to me and the something was apparently sorry.

“Yeah I’m sorry. I…when we broke up I was so upset and caught up in my own head. I blamed you for everything. I think it only hit me when you just up and moved out of the country how things actually went down.”

I hadn’t told anyone but Josie that I was leaving.

“Yeah you were just like gone.” He continues. “I guess a part of me thought we’d get some space, maybe circle back later…”

“You really betrayed me,” I remind him.

But even I know what he means. He hurt me bad and it might be crazy stupid but on some level we were both aware we were in an ugly place and maybe with some space we might come back to the place that was good for us again. Maybe bump into each other one day, strike up a conversation, find there might still be a small amount of love left. Enough to water and grow again.

“I know,” he sighs. “I know. I hate that I hurt you like that. I regret…I actually don’t really hang out with that group of friends as much anymore. I sorta have myself to blame but I didn’t like who I was with them.”

I listen, letting him speak. It hurt too, knowing this was the Grayson I had fallen in love with. Kind and supportive, and now apparently he’s learned to communicate. Maybe that was a Lily thing.

“I guess,” he blows the air out of his cheeks. “I want to say I’m really truly sorry. I missed you a lot after you left. Nothing was the same and life was fucking hard. I wish things didn’t end the way they did and I stayed mature but I was just jealous and angry.”

I nod to acknowledge what he’s saying and watch him take a breath to continue.

“And I always appreciated how you never let us shake your relationship with my sister because she bloody loves you—I don’t think how mum treated you was right today but I never really understood her in the first place. I’m sorry about that.”

“Yeah,” is all I can manage without making it obvious how emotional this was all making me. How one year could make me feel like a completely different person. How this man I loved, and still love in some way, could stand in front of me talking about us as something in the past. Because we were. Long past.

My phone dings with a notification that my ride would be here. We glance down and out into the street.

“Anyway,” he swallows. “I just wanna apologize. And say I genuinely hope you find love y/n. Love that’s as fierce and loyal as you are. I hope you can forgive me one day. And I hope you’re successful as hell in whatever you pour yourself into.”

“Thank you Gray,” I want to say I was sorry too. For what it was worth. But my car pulls to the curb.

I wave at the driver to let them know I’d ordered it and we walk the few feet to the back door.

I face Gray and open my mouth to say it. Say something more: how I appreciated his words, how I was sorry for how things ended too, how I hope he is happy. But nothing comes out of my mouth. I just stare at him, my eyes welling with tears instead.

Gray holds out his hand and I look down at it. I knew those hands well and it’s like walking into a place you used to frequent in the past and have memories rush towards you as you remember: those hands held me and wrapped around my own and comforted me, they made me food and stroked my hair, and carried my bags when they got too heavy. They once wore an engagement band I gifted, they once held a small box with a life-changing question I had said yes to.

Now it was just a hand.

I clasp it and he squeezes.

“I know,” he says, his eyes trained on my watery ones. He squeezes again and lets go.

I rush into the car, those two words nearly cracking me in half. I wave goodbye through the tinted window and feel a wave of despair that pulls me down into the depths of darkness.

Too much was happening at once.

My emotions spiral out of me and I feel alone in this foreign country; I needed comfort where none could be found.

I don’t mean to. Or maybe I do. But on the train back to London I text Harry: is it too early to cash in on the drink?

His response is immediate: no, I was waiting for this text last night

I smile, despite myself.

Can I come over? I text with shaking hands.

H: For drinks?

Y: For drinks

H: Ofc.

***

The taxi drops me in front of the familiar building. I feel an echo of anxiety pierce through me as I go through the familiar doors. I nod at the concierge, the night replacement was new and I’m grateful nobody can recognize me making this potentially stupid decision.

For a brief second I wonder if Harry had other plans tonight but decide not to overthink it. He’d invited me openly. And maybe I was making a decision based on sadness and loneliness and grief and needing to be wanted but I make it. And I would make it like a grown woman—ready to accept the consequences.

I didn’t want to go back to my lonely hotel room. I didn’t want to call anyone and talk about what just happened. I didn’t have words. My body was taking the beating, feeling everything under the sun and now bruised and battered for it. I just wanted my body to forget that. And there was only one person in this godforsaken city that could help.

I’m let up to the penthouse and I forgot it had a distinct smell, wood-like and something indescribable. Weird that it felt comforting.

“You made it,” Harry comes into view in a simple pair of shorts and a long-sleeved white tee pushed up to his elbows. It’s the sleeves that really do it.

“I did.”

I leave my bags beside the elevator next to the umbrella stand, keeping my eyes on him. He doesn’t take his off mine either. I’m glad he doesn’t. Now I know he knows we both said drinks but meant something more.

He reaches out for me before I even get to him, and I know I would think about that later. A lot. But right then in the middle of his entryway I wrap my arms around his neck and lean up on my toes to reach him too.

His lips are soft against mine and he tucks me into him, his hand splayed out on my lower back. It feels like a return to a lover, someone who knows you, like I would’ve thought seeing Gray again would feel. But it’s just Harry, and the thought of baseless familiarity freaks me out a little.

The next time I feel his lips they’re on my jaw and neck and down to the base of my throat. He murmurs my name as he makes his way down and my body reacts immediately. He takes me by the waist and backs me up against the nearest wall, and I have a feeling I might fall.

I had made the conscious decision to walk into the devil’s lair because it was the only place I could get what I needed.

My fingers dig into his shoulders. My body wants this. Every part of me wants to pull him close and hold him and never let go. I wanted all of it tonight.

But I am so tired.

I put a hand on his chest and press gently. I can feel the warmth of his skin, the firmness of his muscles and the beat of his heart as he pauses.

“Sorry, I should have started with a hello. That was too fast was it?” He whispers, looking me straight in the eyes.

I have a million answers, but nothing comes. He puts his hand over mine and I feel it as a shiver runs up my spine.

"Is this too fast?" he asks again, and I hear the worry in his voice.

I shake my head.

He gives a breathy laugh, "Then tell me."

"I think I-“

“Don’t,” he covers my mouth with a laugh. “Please please. Don’t think.”

I smile under his palm and he drops his hand, I can tell he’s proud of lightening the moment by the sheen in his eyes. The moment is tender in a way that takes me back.

He brushes back my hair and kisses my forehead. I close my eyes, breathing in his cologne.

“That’s not where I want to be kissed,” I tell him.

“Then where?” He plays along.

“Anywhere but there.”

He kisses my nose. “There?”

“Not there,” I open my eyes to look up at him. “I’ll have you know that was very snotty just an hour ago.”

He groans, “you really have a way of taking the desire out of a situation.”

But his brows furrow and he watches me even closer.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I respond to his unasked question.

With that statement he takes a painful step back and I nearly slide down the wall without his support.

“What?” I ask.

“We should take that drink first.”

I feel the loss of his body pressed against mine, I realize miserably.

“What do you mean? I thought the drinks were just an excuse?” I ask.

He laughs a little, “Maybe tonight, but I really did want to have a drink with you. And talk.”

“Harry,” I groan. “I’m all out of talking tonight. Truly.”

“As much as I want to say forget talking and take you to bed I need to do this…just follow me,” he leads me and my flushed body through to the main living area which I was well familiar with but it’d gotten a facelift. I make commentary on the changes and he tells me more about it as he pulls a wine he wants out for us.

“I changed things around a little after you left,” he says as he hands me the wine glass. “I needed it. The change.”

“Oh.” Is all I can muster. I follow him to the sofa, tonight he doesn’t leave as much space between us but it still feels like a weird parallel to the night I landed in the hospital; a confrontation with Gray leading me to wine with Harry. “Look Harry I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Why not?”

“I…I’m at minimal capacity right now I just-“

“Just let me talk then.”

“Why does everyone want to talk!”

“I need to tell you what I should have said a long time ago and I want to apologize-“

“You already did-“

“Properly.”

I cross my arms and sigh.

“Y/n bloody hell I forgot how quickly you can get under my skin.”

“So this isn’t a great thing then.”

“Y/N,” he says my name like a warning and I want to comply. I roll my eyes and knock back my glass of wine, the buzz from the glass at dinner has long since worn away.

“Part of me wants to top you up but another part remembers what happened last time.” Harry eyes me.

“No I’m okay with just one glass. Drinking when I’m upset doesn’t end well.”

“Yeah…I don’t want you concussed on my watch again.”

“No we don’t want that,” we smile at each other, a soft and sentimental smile that gets the anxious stuttering of my heart to calm down a little. He just wanted to talk, so what?

But the anxious voice runs through the scenarios he might want to—his recent text, or something I did as his PA he wants to take up now. Gah.

“I really have missed having you around,” he says softly.

“Didn’t feel like you would with how you treated me.” I raise my brow.

“I know.” He pauses then mumbles something before talking to me directly. “You must have heard about the PA before you? Maybe from Riley?”

“Kind of.”

“Kind of?”

“Hmmm this feels like a trick question.” I say but he tells me he just wants to know what I knew. So I rip the bandaid off. “You had a fling with her.”

He hangs his head back over the seat of the sofa and sighs. “I knew that piece of…Riley makes me really mad when I think about him sometimes.”

“Does he?” I raise my brow. “I can think of someone else who makes me madder.”

“I know that’s supposed to be me. And I don’t know what to do about that except come clean right now.”

“And why is that?” I ask. “Coming clean? I came here just to get distracted in bed with you. I never thought I’d live to see the day where a guy like you wants to talk instead.”

“Y/N,” he says with such an intense look my way my stomach flips. “Trust me. I want to have you in my bed more than you do. But I told myself if that day ever somehow happened it would be after this.”

I shrug, let him continue. In reality his words make me weak and I can’t speak. Which kind of annoys me—why did he have such a strong pull over me? How did he so easily admit he’s thought about me, about having me in his bed!?

My heart flutters amongst other things.

I remember a brief conversation I had with my mom last year when she asked me why I wasn’t putting myself out there and dating again and I told her I just didn’t have the heart for it. She had said it seems I left my heart in London—my passion and my heart. Sitting here with Harry stirs something inside of me, scares me, and I want to distract that with more wine. But I manage to control myself.

“I was fairly new to the industry when I hired Riley and it was his second proper job or something so we were both a bit young and we ended up being friendlier than we should have.” Harry starts. “But he was great at his job and never gave me any issues. I stayed naïve that people in this industry would look out for my best interest-“

“That’s really naïve,” I can’t help but comment but he throws me a look and I zip my lips. “Sorry.”

“I was lucky that the first few relationships I built as I got my foot in the door were genuine but I realized too late that it wasn’t a norm. Everyone wanted a piece of me and they all wanted me to be someone else. Some angle. Shit hit the fan pretty quickly. So when I needed more help I decided to create a new role for Riley and hire a PA. She was seasoned and came highly recommended.”

I nod along to his story.

“Long story short, she started out good but she kept trying to get me alone and get me talking. And back then after being friends with my old PA I didn’t have the wisdom of setting boundaries—don’t give me that look.”

“What!” I raise my hands. “I’m just listening.”

“You’re judging me.”

“Just continue,” I encourage. I was judging a little.

“Anyway, where I thought we were just friendly she thought I—I dunno I was falling for her or something. And one night she was working late so she had dinner here. She kept refilling my drink I didn’t realize she wasn’t drinking as much. It’s not much of an excuse but by the time she came onto me I was pissed and it didn’t take much.”

He continues the story like it was nothing but his voice catches a little and he doesn’t look me in the eye. My insides grow colder. I want to reach inside of him and hold the old Harry, the naive one who didn’t know better.

“Please don’t feel bad for me,” he cuts my sympathy short. “I didn’t turn into a great person after that. Especially with how I treated you.”

“That’s right.” I pretend to be unaffected by his story like he wanted me to be. But it’s near impossible.

“So that’s how I decided it was best for me to play the asshole. I couldn’t fire her after that—it would look awful and she could report me and screw me over. But I could make working for me a nightmare and so I did. A few months later she quit.”

He sighs and takes a swig of his wine, “Then you came along and I thought ‘I should play the asshole from the get go.’ I had gotten good by then at compartmentalizing my personality in the industry.”

“Hmph,” I raise a brow. He has the decency to look embarrassed but he continues.

“But the more time we spent together the worse I felt. You were nothing like the previous PA. You were genuine and down-to-earth. Pretty fiery but I wouldn’t find that out until later,” he grins. I roll my eyes. “I tried to ease up a little but things kept happening to push me back into the asshole box.”

“But you were so snappy, and a dick.”

“I know. I didn’t know how to tell you you worked too hard without dropping the asshole act and making you feel even shittier.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had to be the villain in your story-“

“What?” What was he talking about?

“Yeah like, you were working all the time even though there were some times I told you to wrap it up for the day.”

I remembered that, thinking he was kicking me out.

“But you took the job so seriously. I appreciated everything you did but you were dogged at making sure you did the best at any cost.”

“What do you mean? At any cost?” I ask, a cold sensation running down my back.

“For example take that one time a few months in when I asked you to call me because you forgot to order wine. You bloody came all the way back to hand deliver it-“

“Yeah because you said to call you and you were gonna be pissed if I-“

“No, y/n,” he lays a hand between us. “I just wanted you to call to know where you usually ordered from so I could order that for myself. You weren’t in any trouble! But I could only blame myself for playing the hard asshole too well.”

I think about that night, Josie’s birthday party. How I left early and upset Gray. How I didn’t need to but I had been following the Dos and Dont’s list.

Shit, the lists. They were added onto by the last PA who, now I know, was having her life made into hell just so she would quit. Some of those lists were on an extreme I didn’t even have to follow. Fuck. That was on me.

My face must be a painting of regret because Harry apologizes again.

“I’m sorry but I didn’t want you to…I just felt like I had to play the villain so you could do what you had to do. So you could continue hating me and we could establish the clear boundary.”

“Right.” I have a bitter taste in my mouth.

“But I genuinely liked you, I thought you were funny and sensitive-“

“You don’t like my sensitivity.”

“I do. I just hated how angry you were-“

“Because of you.”

“I know. I created a monster, I’m Frankenstein.”

“Damn straight.” I agree and we pause a beat before laughing.

“Anyway,” he continues. “You were funny and sensitive and resilient, passionate and smart, and you cared so deeply. It was rare meeting people like you in this field. I wanted to wrap you in bubble wrap but I think I shattered you instead. I’m sorry for the way I just let my past colour your time here. I feel like you left because of me-“

“It was really a lot of reasons.”

“I know but I was part of that and I felt no good. After you left I was a miserable son of a bitch for a while. I couldn’t even enjoy my holiday because I kept thinking of you. I was miserable so I barely even said goodbye—I didn’t realize you were going to run away so far. But I also didn’t want to say goodbye because I was scared I would convince you to stay by spilling my truth.”

His words sit on my chest and they slowly sink down to my stomach. I don’t know what it meant, what he wanted me to do with this confession. It’s too much.

“Mostly,” he continues, shifting closer to me on the sofa. He lowers his voice, “Mostly I’m sorry about Barcelona.”

I flush at the mention of it. At the heat and passion from that night. His eyes roam my face.

“I’m not that guy. I should have treated you nicer, should have been the one to keep my patience.”

“I didn’t make it easy,” I admit.

“No,” he chuckles. “You really fucking did not.”

We smile.

“But you’re so much more than anger y/n. I could barely sleep that night, I kept regretting giving into the anger and not being slow and soft with you the way you deserve. I regret it all the time.”

His confession pulls the veil off my eyes and I see a sharper image of my past. Of everything. It all comes at once and I can’t sort through it in the moment but I know what I want to do.

I shuffle over until I’m up against Harry, I hold his face in mine and he cups my face in his hand.

“You drove me crazy,” I tell him. “Made my life hell.”

“I know. But you drove me crazy too. Nobody got under my skin like you did.”

“Same.”

His hand snakes down to my thigh and he nudges it over his lap so that I’m straddling his body. I feel vulnerable and scared—not the first time these emotions have coursed through me in this very room. But today I don’t feel powerless.

His lips are soft against my cheek, my jaw, down my neck. Unlike the first time he’s slow and deliberate like someone who’s waited so long to unwrap a cherished gift and can’t stand ripping even the gift wrap. He pushes my hair out of the way and trails his fingertips down the back of my neck.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispers in my ear. The more he talked the more nervous he was making me. I turn my head to capture his lips, run my fingers through his hair which is too short to really grasp. I missed his old hair.

We break apart for a breath and I can feel the tension. The desire to have him near clashing with the need to go slow. To savour this. Somehow we both feel it.

“We don’t have to do anything tonight,” Harry promises me, his finger trailing down my arm. “Just having you here is enough.”

Oh god. How did he know just the things to say. This man was way too suave. He really was the devil.

But I needed him. It’s scary to admit but I did. I wanted to be here, I really did. I needed to be in this moment with him. Fulfill some shut-out desire that had grown dusty in the corner of my heart.

“I want to do this.”

With a gentle kiss he gets us up and takes my hand. I feel myself being pulled through the living room and towards the bedroom. The sheets are cool, but not cold and when he crawls in beside me I forget that I had ever been anywhere else.

He’s attentive and deliberate and I’m buzzing with anticipation. I decide to pick up the pace, propping myself up to take off my blouse. I watch his throat bob up and down like he’s never seen me like this before even though he has. It’s endearing.

The way his hands fit in the curve of my waist makes it harder to breathe. He moves his hands up my torso and to the straps of my bra. He pauses, as if asking permission, and when I nod, he kisses me. He unhooks it and slowly slides it off my shoulders, eyes fixed on mine.

The intensity of his gaze is overwhelming.

I pull him close to kiss him again, and he pulls me under him so I can feel the full weight of him against me. This is what I needed. To be physically present and not stuck in the after tremors of the earthquakes of my past. Not that he wasn’t part of my past but this is different. A non-verbal agreement to just be present. I knew his ways with women, it could be a one-night thing and that’s what I needed.

But that’s why the moments of tenderness and adoration nearly take my breath away. I don’t know where to put these things.

He kisses down my shoulder while his hand trails down to my trousers. He hooks his finger into the belt loop and tugs gently, looking up at me for consent.

I nod.

He slowly takes them off, and when his fingers brush against my bare legs, my breath hitches.

It happens again when he presses his lips against my hip bone.

He stops for a moment, and I can almost see the cogs in his brain whirring.

He moves up to press his forehead against mine.

"I don't know how to do this right," he says quietly, and his eyes search mine.

“What do you mean?”

“This is always how I should have treated you,” he whispers. “I want you to know-“

“Harry,” I smooth out the lines on his forehead.

"No," he grabs my hand and kisses it. "I don't want you to feel like I don't care because I do. I don’t want to hurt you. I'm not good at saying these things. But I want you to know how much I value you. That I like you as a person. I respect you. I want you to be okay.”

“I-“ who was this Harry, seriously!? “I get it. I’m okay. I am.”

He smiles at me tentatively and my heart does a somersault.

I grab the back of his neck and pull him down, pressing my lips against his. I could taste the sweetness of the words he had said.

I tug at his shirt and it flies into the darkness of his bedroom. His skin is heated against mine.

It feels like an eternity before he finally reaches the band of my panties, and my heart thumps wildly.

"May I?" he looks up.

"Please," I whisper.

For the first time since I’ve met him he doesn’t make it about himself or what he needs. It’s almost intimidating how intense he is as he looks after me and it’s hard to reconcile this man with the man in my head. We’re of one mind and it’s like he knows everything I’ve been through in the last 24 hours; he just attends to my every need reminding me that I was here, right here, in his arms and in this body.

And it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you staying the night?” He asks later with a final kiss to my shoulder.

“If that’s alright?” I ask. I didn’t want to be alone in a cold hotel room.

“I’d love nothing more.” He says earnestly.

Love. I brush the word away.

He warns me that he was a slug if I stayed and he’s not exaggerating, with his arm draped over me and tucked up against him he’s like a child with a plush. He falls asleep just as quickly.

I should too but can’t. I feel so intensely about this body laying beside me, I want to crawl inside of him, understand him, understand us and how this worked.

Or maybe I wanted to just understand me, and why I felt a piece of myself sliding back into place tonight. I had to be the most fucked up person in this city.

Instead of sleeping I lay awake thinking about everything and I can’t help it. I go over this morning—god it felt like weeks ago. Josie’s graduation. Josie. Gray. Even Michelle.

I feel slightly paralyzed by everything that transpired today—it truly felt like peering through a glass window into a life I used to have. I try to break open the glass, sort it all out.

On one side is me and everything I’ve done this whole year to move on from the crumbs of my life here in London. I don’t know why but I really did think that coming back I would be 100% untouchable by my past. I was an idiot for thinking that because I was bothered that Gray seemed to have a steady girlfriend. Why did I think anything would rekindle between us?

I dig deeper, did I even want that to happen? Or did I just want to prove to myself that I was the one Gray let get away because I was too scared to face the possibility that I was the one who let Gray get away.

But clearly something didn’t work with us, I think bitterly. A few months with his new girl and he found the balls to open up with me and communicate his grievances and his apologies.

Love that’s as fierce and loyal as you are, he had said. Was I too much for Gray? Is that why we were made to burn out? It hurt too that he had damaged all my relationships I made in my life here in London only to cut those same people out of his life immediately after I left. The more I think about it the angrier I feel.

And his mom, I still feel bruised by her acting like she didn’t even know me. It stokes the anger higher. Her own son has called her crazy on multiple occasions, I was always nothing but kind to her. Gray was the one who put the final nail in our coffin yet the woman who called me her daughter and claimed to love me had been cruel. Even in the face of getting along for Josie’s sake she had put her petty feelings in the forefront.

These people made me so angry.

How did I ever think I could rekindle anything with Gray? As much as I was to blame, I realize, Gray couldn’t even be kind in the end. Just because the year apart was good to him didn’t mean he would still be good for me.

I think about the man laying beside me, in a hypothetical situation if things got ugly I instinctively want to say he would be cruel too. But I have to push past the persona he claimed to have put up and think about the glimpses of the man I saw underneath. Something tells me he would be just as fiery in letting me know how he was feeling. But with his recent apologies I’m not as convinced he would go out of his way to hurt me again.

Even in the bar last night, I just assumed he called me Mrs. Duran to be cruel but he hadn’t known. Or when I had assumed at Josie’s birthday party I would be fired for forgetting wine because he was an asshole when really he just acted like one so I wouldn’t feel worse.

How many times had I judged people because of how skewed my own lens was? It’s a sobering reminder.

Josie’s face flashes through my mind and I tear up at knowing we were going to cut each other out. No matter how much we loved each other staying in touch at this rate was no longer sustainable. For her best interest.

I think of my younger brother back home, my older sister, our family of 5. When I went back home there was so much to catch up on and eventually, apologize for. I had missed out on so much of my family’s life because I believed I needed to leave to grow. Well, life sure handed me a lot of lessons but I needed to go back home to plant them and let me grow.

Harry stirs beside me, nuzzling my neck in his sleep. I feel myself go teary eyed for no reason.

I wondered if this was just a one-night thing. If we would see each other again while I was in London. Did I want to see him? My heart sings yes immediately.

Damn.

What was it about him that pushed my emotions to the highest highs and lowest lows. How did he know every button to push and every bruise to kiss. This had to be toxic, we couldn’t just take our great big baggage of a past and see each other casually while I was in London. It couldn’t be that easy.

What if it was, hope whispers. I squirm. Could I forgive Harry for everything he’d done?

“Y’sleeping?” Harry mumbles to my left. Shit.

“Yeah,” I say which invokes a throaty chuckle from him. I check the time, it was nearly 4. Double shit.

“Liar,” he tugs on my hips and I turn to face him. “Talk to me.”

I couldn’t. Half of my thought were about him. And how could I tell him I was thinking about my ex after spending the night with him. So I just shake my head.

“Please?” He brushes my cheek with his thumb. “You need to sleep.”

“I-“ I try to say I can’t but the words get stuck in my throat. The emotions of everything I’d been thinking in the last couple hours threaten to dislodge the words from my throat so I close my mouth. But it doesn’t work.

A sob bursts out of me and before I can reel it all in the floodgates swing open and it carries all the pent-up sorrow and confusion, grief and anguish I had bottled up.

Harry freezes for a moment, probably very confused to wake up and have me reacting this way. But he recovers and pulls me into his warm chest.

“What is going on in that head of yours love,” Harry murmurs. Love. I sob even harder.

He murmurs reassuring words whilst stroking my back and I cry an embarrassing amount in the same bed where just hours ago I was blissed beyond comprehension. Life moves fast.

Finally when I gain enough composure I lean away, covering my face because crying into him was one thing but seeing my ugly cry face was another.

“Here,” I feel his body move and then tissues pressed into my hand. I’m grateful for them but I wasn’t going to blow my nose here. I sit up and try to dry my nose. His hand reaches out and the tips of his fingers rest on my spine like he was tethering my lost body to him. Somehow even that is reassuring.

“Don’t go trying to kiss my nose this early on again,” I try to joke through a stuffy voice.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he tugs my arm a little and I fall back beside him. He holds me in both his arms and I watch in horror and affection as he kisses the tip of my nose.

“Stop being so nice,” I laugh and cry a little too.

“You’re actually complaining about me being nice?”

“No I just—I’m not used to it,” I press the tissue to my eyes again.

“Well get used to it,” he peels the hair off of my face and pushes it back. “I don’t want to be the one hurting you. I swear to never ever be the reason you cry like this to anyone.”

“Don’t say those sorts of things if you don’t mean it.”

“I do,” he caresses my face. “You’re breaking my heart y/n, I don’t know who hurt you but I never want to see you like this. Especially not because of me alright? I’m sorry if I ever-“

“Stop,” I put my hand to his mouth. Which is kind of gross since I just blew my nose but I’m pretty sure him kissing my snotty nose means he didn’t care.

“But-“ he says behind my hand.

“I’m embarrassed right now,” I admit.

“You have seen me in every compromising situation,” Harry says. “And we have been through too much together to be embarrassed right now.”

“Fine,” I sigh. “It is tiring.”

“Maybe you can finally sleep now that it’s…almost 5?”

“Sorry,” I sigh. “I hope you don’t have something early?”

“Nope,” he kisses the top of my head. “And even if I did it wouldn’t matter.”

So we both try to go back to bed and I manage to fall asleep, all of those tiring racing thoughts washed away by a good cry. I feel warm and cared for and vulnerable and protected. A stark change from how Harry has made me feel before. Maybe this was temporary or maybe this was the start of something new. I’m just taking it minute by minute while all I can think is Do I or Don’t I?

***

It’s my final week in London and if you’d asked me a couple weeks ago if I was looking forward to going back home I would have said without hesitation yes.

But that night at Harry’s and putting my past to rest brushes away an old and tired film I had been viewing the city with since I landed.

We had seen each other a couple times a week since—I’ve been cautious despite my body saying otherwise. There were many days I had been free but I had made up some excuse not to see him, I was scared of getting too attached and having to leave.

But I can’t deny how nice it was to be with Harry without any labels. Most of the time I went over to his, it was tricky going out somewhere too public and risking getting papped. Together we just talk about life and work, my life back in America and my relationship with my family, his life growing up and his relationship with stardom. We watch movies and listen to music and make jokes and I open up a little about what had been weighing on my mind that night.

Winnie teases me that I was lighter than she’s ever seen me, that London looked good on me. I tell her she’s crazy. But even Oretta admits it when Winnie brings it up to her.

Harry makes the effort to make up for how he acted until it’s not just words. I believe what he was saying. And I admit to my faults too.

We still get under each other’s skin.

The thing we argue about the most is an opportunity Harry tries to get me to sign off on. The link he texted me when I was in Cambridge was an upcoming single one of his friends was releasing and he wanted to get me to bid on executing a music video for it. I tell him he was nuts and that I had no experience, plus I had a job. But he persists. He thinks I should explore putting my creative skills to use and not just my organizational skills. The arguing continues.

I have a date with him tonight, at the same bar we bumped into each other that first night. I have a question I’d been meaning to ask him.

“You aren’t actually a regular here are you?” I ask when we’ve settled.

“Of course I am,” he says but I know he’s lying. I raise my brow and he looks everywhere but at me. “Fine. I’m not.”

“So how the hell did you end up here that night?”

“Coincidence.”

“Liar.”

“I’m an honest man.”

“Truth please?”

“You’re embarrassing me here let’s move on.”

“Nuh-uh,” I’m enjoying his bright cheeks and darting eyes. “Did you stalk me or something?”

“I…I knew this was a local spot for you. Or was.”

“Really? How?”

“You mentioned it a few times? And I dropped you off here once after work.”

He might’ve. I’d met many friends and especially Gray here. I motion for him to continue.

“I might’ve known you were in town, might’ve found out you were here and…”

“So you did stalk me,” I gasp. “Oh my god ladies and gents he is obsessed.”

“That’s a strong word.” He argues.

“You. Stalked. Me.”

“Oh fine, I’ll confess: I’m used to the stalkers and I thought it was high time I did some stalking and see what the fun was all about,” he joins in on making fun of himself.

“Someone get me a restraining order,” I say just as someone approaches our table with drinks. As soon as they leave we burst out laughing.

“So have you given the music video any more thought?” Harry asks as the evening continues.

“Can we not talk about this right now?” I ask.

“I just think you should give it serious thought. I know you want to go into PR, be somebody’s Graham, but you have a really good eye for this thing. Before you pursue what you think you want, try this out.”

“You’re one dude,” I say again. “Who believes I can do this. You want me to throw away the career I’ve worked on for years to dabble in this and potentially waste time instead of getting to where I want?”

“Firstly, if you love doing something it’s not time wasted. And secondly you only ever need just one person to believe in you, angel.”

His fingers brush mine on the table, the familiar electricity courses through me just through the small touch. And of course, his use of pet names always turned me to putty. I hated how malleable he made me.

“Consider it. Just write a proposal y/n, it’s not betraying Oretta or anything. I can talk to her if you want if they choose your idea.”

It was scary putting myself out there for something I didn’t believe in myself for. But my echoes of burnout grow towards the idea of doing something less demanding than being an assistant just like a sunflower to the sun. It basks in letting my creativity flow.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Not for too long,” he taps my fingers again. We were cautious about being too touchy in public, even in a place like this where people genuinely didn’t care who he was. “Proposal’s due at the end of next week.”

When I would be back home in America. Away from here. Him.

We hadn’t talked about it, if we would try to keep in touch. I can’t really imagine a long-distance thing with Harry. Not at this stage. Mostly we enjoyed being in each other’s company and I was scared forcing labels just because we would be apart would ruin this fragile thing.

“Fine.” He’d worn me down and I submit. “Fine I’ll get something in for you.”

He pulls back with a shocked expression. “Did I just convince the stubborn y/n y/l/n to do something she didn’t want to do?”

I scowl. “Don’t get used to it.”

“I won’t,” he laughs, waving his hands around him like he was fanning in an aroma. “I’m soaking this in though.”

“Whatever,” I say with a smile.

“You make me work hard,” he smiles back. “For everything y/n. That’s one of the things I l-I-that I really like about you.”

We ignore the near slip of something far too serious for what we had going. We move past it but it sets my heart racing.

“So this friend of yours,” I change the subject. “With the music video. Didn’t you guys have like, beef when you were on tour? All that article stuff?”

“You of all people should know not to believe what you see online. It was all manipulated and put out of context.”

“I know but you were all moody for all your shows afterwards. I remember Jeff and Graham complaining. I assumed the articles had worn you down a bit.”

He raises a brow like he’s waiting on me to figure something out.

“What?”

“Really? You think it was the artcles?”

“Well what else happened that-“

Oh god. Was I that stupid?

Of course it wasn’t the articles, it was me! Us.

A smile stretches over the contours of his face as realization dawns on mine, “Twice in a row I’ve got you today, I should buy a lottery ticket.”

“I’m off my game today is all, don’t get used to it.”

I can’t believe it. Not that I didn’t believe Harry after the last few weeks but I—that night—really meant that much to him that his feelings over it had affected the rest of his tour? I had affected his tour?

“Why didn’t you say anything if it was weighing on you so much? If I recall I tried to talk to you a couple times.” I ask.

“What could I say,” he snorts. “You were engaged and my loss of control was why you cheated. Then you were quitting and I knew if I said anything you might have stayed. I didn’t want to keep you where you didn’t want to be.”

His words tug at my heart. He really had thought up a storm.

“Harry,” I lean back. “Gray and I broke up before I joined you guys on tour again. We weren’t cheating.”

His forehead creases, “What?! But you were together at my London show. I thought you two broke up after you moved back home?”

“No,” I guess in the last few weeks I’d just mentioned we broke up a long time ago. He didn’t know any specifics. “We were fake-together because he hadn’t broken the news to his sister then. But that’s why I was all…y’know in Barcelona-“

“Fuck me,” he groans. “No wonder you thought I was an ass for pulling you away-“

“Well you were-“

“Yeah alright-“

“Why did you really pull me away though?”

“I…I was feeling a bit possessive.”

“What?”

I wasn’t expecting that to come out of his mouth. He smiles sheepishly, “I thought we already came to terms with that.”

My stomach does a few somersaults. Until tonight I don’t think I’ve really focused on the magnitude of how Harry felt back then. Parts of my mind were still remembering him as a prick just because it was easier to remember my side of things. But this spins things in a brighter light.

“I was just your assistant though.”

“Y/N,” he tilts his head to the side. “Did I not already tell you what I thought about you that night in my flat?”

“Yeah but-“

“I’d never met anyone like you, I really liked you. I couldn’t have you though and I had to push you away constantly. And that drove me a bit crazy sometimes.”

I let out a noisy breath, wondering if how he felt about me was just as intense now as it was then. A part of me knows it must be. Feelings like that didn’t fade. But here I was, barely knowing what it was I felt for him. All I knew was that it was nice when we were together.

Why me, I want to ask. But I hold back. It wasn’t a question I could ask my ex-employer current-lover part-time-asshole.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “Was that a bit strong?”

“No,” I sigh again and he laughs. “Fine. A little. But it’s fine, I’m okay.”

“Okay,” he believes me. “So you broke off your engagement and didn’t tell anyone?”

“Kinda, we weren’t in a place we could come back from. We decided that mutually after things blew up. He didn’t even know I was leaving the country actually.”

Harry whistles. “You ran out on all of us.”

I scratch the side of my head, “Maybe?”

“Well I’ve enjoyed having you again, here.” He says with sincerity. “I’m really relieved to be able to get to say everything I wanted to your face.”

I agree. Neither of us mention I was leaving later in the week.

Even by the night before I’m leaving London we still hadn’t discussed a thing. But there’s a heaviness to us as we have dinner at his, as we pretend to watch a movie only to cuddle on the couch. We lay there facing each other and I trace his eyes, his nose, his wonderful mouth. It’s so odd to me that this was the same Harry Styles performing in sold out venues and on the walls of teenage bedrooms. That I got to have him in these quiet moments and be present.

I feel so grateful for this. That I didn’t have to carry around these draining stories within me anymore, that it felt like it happened to someone else. In a way even if nothing came from all this, I got closure. I was able to move on now.

I imagine my heart and it feels like when you take a stroll mid-March and realize nature was healing from winter’s blues. Warm and blooming the earth was growing again—my heart was growing stronger. Now the idea of a date or a partner didn’t seem so daunting and exhausting. I would never have guessed that it would take the man who almost broke me to come into my life again for me to see how to fit those pieces back in place again.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do not having you in town anymore,” his lashes flutter as I run my hand through his hair. It was still shorter than I was used to but it had grown in the last three weeks.

“Oh you’ll be fine,” I say. “I’ve worked on your schedule before: meetings and studio sessions and photoshoots and interviews.”

“A busy life isn’t always a full one,” he whispers. And it’s the closest thing to a confession we were going to get to. I cover his mouth with mine and we indulge in each other one final time.

There is a symphony of unexpected but undeniable intimacy woven between the beats of our entwined hearts. I know I would probably never feel this way with anyone and I don’t think I’d want to. Being with Harry was passion. It was losing myself and finding myself at the same time. It was being vulnerable and guarded and cherished and known.

My flight out tomorrow is around noon but I can’t stay the night as I’d have to help Oretta in the morning to make sure everything gets to the airport in time. Harry walks me down to his lobby and we stand there for a few, just holding each other tight. He doesn’t ask me to stay and I don’t ask him to come.

“This isn’t goodbye y/n,” Harry says when we part. His hand rests on his heart. I know the feeling, mine aches so hard I want to press my hand to it just to tell it everything would be fine.

“No,” I shake my head. My eyes had been teary ever since he squeezed me to him. “We’ll talk soon.”

“You’ll be directing music videos soon.”

I roll my eyes, “I’m still working on the proposal.”

“I have a good feeling about it.”

“That makes one of us. But…thanks for believing in me.”

“Thanks for believing in me,” he whispers. “Even when you didn’t have to.”

I’m glad I did. The only time in my life not paying attention to the warning bells had paid off.

“I’ve been working with this new producer and he wants me to come out to a studio in Cotati?” Harry mentions. “How far is that from where you are? Are you still in m Burbank?”

“Burbank’s where my parents are,” I shake my head. I look up what he’s talking about and feel a thrill when it’s less than a couple hours. Still, I try to maintain neutrality. “A little over an hour?”

“Well,” he brushes my hair over my shoulder and keeps his eyes looking just over it. “Depending on what you’re doing—maybe if you’re free…we can see each other again?”

I would love that. My heart is bursting just thinking of getting to have him in the place I called home. Of this meaning something. Of him wanting to see me again.

“Of course if you have a boyfriend by then and he doesn’t want you to see me that’s…I mean, live your life and if it works out we-“

“Yes,” I cut him off. “Yeah. Let’s see but that sounds good.”

He meets my gaze and I laugh a little, he was nervous and that was rare.

“Good,” he smiles with. “Until next time.”

“Until next time,” I step into his arms and it’s a quick affair before he steps away. I turn to head out the door, shielding my eyes from him. Not wanting him to see that this was stupidly hard to say goodbye.

He waves me off and I head back to my hotel with a heavy heart. But I think about him asking to see me again. Who knows when that would be. And I know this wasn’t the end of our story.

***

I’m happy to land in SFO the following evening, happy to busy myself with Oretta’s business, happy to have Winnie chattering away. I spent parts of the flight I wasn’t sleeping working on my MV proposal and it awakens a familiar passion inside of me I’d been afraid I’d lost.

I send out a silent thanks to Harry for knowing what was good for me.

I think of Harry often, Gray even less until I don’t think of him at all. I dream of London weekly; I missed it this time around. And as life resumes again I anticipate the change I sense on the horizon.

So when life gives me lemons I stop asking Do I or Don’t I. If one thing the last year has taught me was I had to listen to my gut and look at the signs. I had to start asking what I wanted and go after it. Even though Harry and I barely talk, I remember the lessons he’s taught me.

I stop looking to others to make decisions. There’s no guidebook or lists to help me make my decisions either. I take deep breaths and I believe in myself.

I build a new life on the remains of my old. I don’t let it dictate what I did anymore, I simply leave it as the foundation to elevate me even higher. I reach for the sky with my feet planted firmly on the ground. And I grow with reckless abandon.

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TAGLIST: @boomitsallie1 @indierockgirrl @ndunad @jerseygirlinca @sunshinemoonsposts @ninasw0rld @love-letters-to-uranus @mayamonroem @sassamanda77 @harryspirate

🤍

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asimpforyagami · 2 months

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light yagami as a yandere (headcanons)

↷ A/N ─ my first time writing headcanons! i might write a story based on this because yandere light is so daddy ugh like he defines yandere

★ COUNT ─ 1k words, 50+ hcs

!! TAGS ─ gn!reader, yandere!light, stalking, manipulation (it's light so of course that's there), blackmail, death threats

★ TOPIC ─ light yagami as your yandere senior at to-oh university

✩ ok so light yagami is literally the worst character you could have as a yandere

✩ omg so i 100% can imagine light getting interested in a junior in his uni

✩ at first, he just doesn't care about you because he mostly keeps his feelings to himself

✩ but slowly he either felt threatened by your intelligence or felt that you were "too pure" for the cruel world

✩ he's stalked you around a few times, sure, following you to events, parties or get-togethers you may be at

✩ he keeps a safe distance at all times in case you become suspicious of him popping up everywhere you're at

✩ he gets your friends to talk to him about you

✩ but he first makes sure they won't rat him out to you

✩ he slowly gathers info about you, from your daily routine to your favourite chocolate - he has to know it all

✩ he strategically places himself in clubs and events you're a part of, inserting himself into your world without you knowing

✩ he even starts sending anonymous letters and gifts

✩ but of course, this is light we're talking about, so there's no way he's stopping at that

✩ he eventually talks to you and befriends you

✩ he tries to get your thoughts about kira too in your convos

✩ he keeps an eye on you both when you're in and out of the uni, constantly trying to find ways to talk to you in the form of study dates or something else where the two of you are alone

✩ he tries to find a secret about you, something he can use to blackmail you into staying with him without giving away his identity

✩ if he finds something like that, something you don't wanna reveal to others, he'll blackmail you with that in those anonymous letters, alright

✩ but if he doesn't, he'll reveal to you in those letters that he's kira and force you to stay with him so he doesn't write you and/or your family's name(s) down

✩ when he sees you so worried about something, he'll approach you asking what's wrong, acting like he's not the one writing the letters because the bastard's such a big fat liar

✩ you eventually tell him that yea there's this dude who's obsessed with me, expecting him to help you

✩ but he's just gonna play his concerned friend role really well, being all like "oh yea? i'm so sorry about that"

✩ while internally overjoyed at the fact that he has so much power over you

✩ he comforts you whenever you're upset, manipulating you into thinking he's trustworthy

✩ light will constantly put you in situations where you'll be alone both physically and emotionally, and he'll be your knight in shining armour, and help and comfort you

✩ he even pretends to look for the anonymous letter sender who claims to be kira with light being a part of the task force and all

✩ speaking of which he will absolutely flaunt his status in the task force - not as a suspect of course lmao

✩ probably trying to get you into thinking he's oh-so-trustworthy

when in reality literally everyone in the task force is suspicious of him at one point or another

✩ talking to him is like talking to tom riddle's diary from harry potter - the more you reveal your secrets, the worse the manipulation is gonna become

✩ so now there are two light yagamis in your world - one, the caring sweet friend, and two, the unknown sender of the ominous letters you're receiving

✩ but when you tell him you're gonna inform the police about this anonymous guy, he reveals to you that he's kira and continues the blackmail

✩ any attempt at retaliation and one of your family members dies, of course

✩ in the rare case that you hate your family (relatable) he's gonna find someone you care about and kill them off instead. and believe me, he's light yagami - he will find someone

✩ he won't hesitate to kill off any other guy who even dares to look at you. he wants no competition

✩ even though he's not insecure, he feels satisfied at the way you don't have anyone in your life except for him. it feeds his ego

✩ and he won't stop until he's the only one you're depending on.

✩ he won't kidnap you - he's way too good for that

✩ no, he'll lock you out emotionally

✩ he'll make sure you have to beg him before even talking to someone who's not him

✩ he'll torture you every single day. he'll make every single minute of your life a living hell

✩ but he won't harm a hair on your head

✩ his threats are never physical

✩ unless you count the death threat from the death note

✩ he will berate you if anyone notices the changes in your behaviour, forcing you to act normal as if nothing's happening

✩ when in reality you're trying not to fall apart every time he takes you out on another "date"

✩ that is, if you dislike him.

✩ needless to say you're gonna have to get used to his presence either way because he's gonna be around a lot

✩ and if he can't keep a watch on you himself he'll send ryuk

✩ and obviously, it's light yagami, so he already has pre-installed cameras everywhere around you - your bedroom, your bathroom, heck even some of your clothes

✩ expect to be either shown off like a trophy or hidden away - there is no in-between.

✩ shown off because he's proud he's gotten his hands on you.

✩ hidden away in case someone kidnaps you to threaten him, in which case he's gonna have to kill you, sorry not sorry

✩ but who knows? if you like him it's a blessing, isn't it? a win-win situation for both of you.

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sprainedwriting · 24 days

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I'm absolutely EATING UP your collegeAU!Adam, he would treat me so wrong but whatever. But I was wondering, what kind of social status does Adam have in university? Is he the kind of really popular frat boy who every girl wants to sleep with and who's always surrounded by friends? Or is he the type of popular who thinks he's the shit but everybody dislikes (and they even say it to him lmao). Or maybe just kind of a loser but the confident type? Sorry if this question is specific, I kinda wanna know more about your Adam I love him 😭

I headcanon a possible collegeAU!Adam as a sort of Stifler from AP, he is popular-ish, some girls really do wanna sleep with him, but he's really unlikable and in the end he doesn't have that many friends 😳

Love your work btw! <3

omg thank you so much!! i have lots of thoughts about college au adam so i love getting questions!!

i thought about addressing this in the fic actually so like spoiler i guess?? but also who knows when i will continue writing it 🥲

i think he’s popular with the ladies and i mean that. i genuinely think adam can be very charismatic if he wants to be. on the other hand he DOES NOT get along with other men. at all. he straight up doesn’t acknowledge them and if he does it’s to down talk them badly

hes still best friends with lute ofc <3

adam can easily be the life of every party and gathering, he’s very much able to bring good vibes where ever he goes

so i think lots of guys also just hate him simply out of jealousy??

with his band mates it can be a very tense atmosphere, he founded the band and he’s main guitarist and singer. he’s always the main focus point. since he also founded it he gets very pissed when they don’t do what he wants to do. it’s very clearly not a democracy there 😭😭 they’re very popular tho!!!!

another plus point with adam, which girls love, is actually the fact he doesn’t kiss and tell. sure he gets with a lot of girls but *he* actually never name drops anyone. he has crude af nicknames for them but that’s about it. the only exception is lute she knows every detail and she does judge the girls hard

i kept like trying to incorporate the exorcists into the world AND I FINALLY GOT IT. adam and lute run a female self defence club. some sort of marital art idk which one yet. they even go to tournaments and stuff sometimes!! adam actually doesn’t sleep with any of these girls once they join because both lute and sera (the chancellor of the uni) forbid him from it. the fact that he’s a decent trainer also makes him lowkey hot….

#ask #hazbin hotel adam x reader #adam ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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lucy90712 · 11 months

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hi love💃 could write something with Jude Bellingham x girlfriend reader where she's out with her girlfriends and jude see her in a instagramm story talking to some guy. And he's just jelous and angry and calls reader like 20 times and goes to the club to get reader

wc: 1.9k

Since getting back from uni I have been getting ready to go out with my friends for a girls night as we haven't been out in so long. All of us have been so busy recently that we haven't been able to get together but finally we all have one night free and I'm so excited to go out and enjoy the night with them. I also haven't been out in forever so I decided to put a bit extra effort in as I wanted to feel good about myself as although I know that the way I look doesn't mean everything it's still nice to look good and feel good about myself. For the occasion I got a new dress which I have really been looking forward to wearing so of course I had to put on some makeup and do my hair to go with it. Usually I dress more casually with less makeup on but every now and then I like to go all out just to show that I can look as good as all those models on Instagram that want to take my boyfriend from me.

Just as I finished putting my makeup on the bedroom door opened to reveal Jude who had obviously just got home. He smiled at me so I got up to greet him but instead of giving me a hug and kissing me like he usually would I noticed him look me up and down and then meet my eyes with a look which only ever means one thing. To distract him I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before heading downstairs to grab my purse and shoes. Like clockwork Jude followed behind me like a shadow wanting me to give him a proper kiss and whining until I did so.

"Where are you going looking so gorgeous?" He asked

"I'm going out with my friends it's girls night remember which means that you can't come" I said

"Thats a shame I was hoping to see more of you looking like that but have fun you deserve it" he said

"You will see me later I don't plan to be out for too long" I said

"It's ok go and enjoy yourself but remember if anything happens call me" he said before giving me one last kiss

We said goodbye to each other as I left and got into the Uber that was waiting for me with all of my friends in it. Right away they gave me loads of compliments on my outfit and makeup which made me feel even better about myself than I did before. Until we got to the club we were all catching up on what has happened since we last saw each other which was a lot as between us we live pretty crazy lives. When we got to the club we split up with a few of us going to get drinks while the rest found somewhere to sit for a while. As we walked through the crowd I could feel eyes on me but it's something I've grown quite used to as people often like to take pictures or judge me wherever I go because of Jude. This time it did feel a little different though and I found myself pulling my dress down and covering my chest to draw less attention to myself.

Somehow after a while I ended up alone with some of my friends at the bar others in the bathroom and some on the dance floor. Usually I'm ok on my own but this time as soon as I was left alone a guy came over to try and talk to me but he left after I completely ignored him. A few more tried it before some of my friends came back which is when I was left alone or at least the attempts to flirt were less obvious. I have been in situations like these before but Jude has always been there to either tell these guys to stop or show them that I'm not single but this time I have to figure our what to do on my own.

I still wanted to enjoy my night so I chose not to let a bunch of drunk guys ruin it and got up to dance for a bit. Dancing isn't really my thing but when I'm out with friends I have learnt to forget about what I look like and just have fun. That's exactly what I was doing finally letting go of the stress I have been carry for the last few weeks and completely forgetting that anyone else was in the room until I felt a hand on my waist. When I turned around there was a guy stood behind me trying to get me to dance with him so I politely told him I didn't want to dance with him but he wasn't happy with that and insisted on talking to me in the middle of the dance floor.

Jude's POV

Sitting alone at home with a movie on was incredibly boring it would be made so much better if y/n was here but she's out with her friends having fun. She's been so busy recently that she definitely needed a night with her friends to just relax as I know she has been super stressed but that doesn't mean I don't miss her company. It doesn't help that she looked so beautiful when she left I just wanted to stare at her forever but I had to let her go and just hope that there aren't too many other guys staring at her tonight.

The movie was so boring that I picked my phone up out of habit to look at anything else going on. I was scrolling through my instagram and skipping through peoples stories until y/n's friends story popped up which I paid more attention to so I could see what they were doing. There was a few stories of them all dancing and having fun but it was the last one that caught my attention the most. It showed all of her friends dancing with y/n in the background talking to a guy who I could tell was into her from just the story. Seeing that made me feel really jealous as even though I completely trust y/n and know she wouldn’t cheat or even entertain the idea of another guy this guy was with her and I wasn't. He was getting to see her look so pretty while I was just at home which annoyed me and I couldn't stop myself from texting her just to check she was ok.

I sent a couple of texts to her which went unread so I called her a few times instead but she didn't pick up and they all went to her voicemail. I wanted to just forget about it and let her have fun but I had a nagging feeling in my mind that I needed to go and make sure she was ok. My mind was at war with itself as on one hand I wanted to go and make sure y/n was ok but on the other hand I know I need to let her have fun and that she can handle herself if she needed to. After going back and forth for a while I decided that I couldn't just sit there incase she was out wishing I was there to help her. I decided that I would go and check on her and if she was fine I would just leave and wait for her to come home.

Once I had decided I was going I wasted no time in heading upstairs to change and then grabbing my keys to get in the car. The drive to the club wasn't that long especially when you go a bit over the speed limit. As soon as I got there I parked the car in record time before jumping out and heading straight into the club ignoring anyone who recognised me and wanted to talk. Like every club there was loads of people in there but I fought my way through and found y/n stood to the side with some guy. I couldn't see his face but I could see hers and from a mile away you could tell she was uncomfortable which just made me angry as this guy clearly had no respect for her.

Your POV

Any shred of enjoyment at being out with my friends was gone by this point as I never got any time alone with them every two seconds a different guy was trying to flirt with me and it was getting annoying. After a while I stopped responding at all and just stood there wishing Jude was here as he would put them in their place as these guys might actually listen to him. This one guy that had been pretty persistent all night was stood probably trying to flirt with me but I wasn't listening I was just thinking about finally getting out of here and going home. As I was plotting my escape I saw Jude walking towards me and to start with I thought I was seeing things but as he got closer I realised he was actually here and I can't lie I was happy that he had crashed girls night. He came right over to me and put his arm around my waist to pull me into his side. He was staring down the guy in front of me and if looks could kill the guy would definitely be dead.

"Hey baby who is this?" Jude asked

"I don't know he just came over to talk me" I said

"I think the better question is who are you?" The guy asked

"I'm her boyfriend not that it should matter as she clearly didn't want to talk to you and you just couldn't get the hint" Jude said

"How about we go and have some fun now that you are here" I suggested to get us both out of this situation

Jude followed me away from the guy but instead of actually going to the dance floor I headed for the exit while texting my friends to let them know I was leaving. As we left he still had a tight grip on my hand which he was holding and I could tell he was tense so I tired to reassure him without actually saying anything. He led me to his car which wasn't parked too far from the club and we started driving back home in an uncomfortable silence.

"Is everything ok Jude?" I asked

"Everything's fine it's just I saw that guy with you in your friends story and I couldn't help but get jealous as you looked so good when you left that I didn't want other guys getting to stare at my girlfriend" he admitted

"Oh Jude you know that I don't care about any other guy so what if they stare at me I still come home to you everyday" I said

"And I'm the only one that gets to see you without that dress" he added

"See that's a better attitude" I laughed

After that Jude seemed happier and when we got home he carried me straight upstairs but instead of doing what I thought he would he helped me do my usual routine and then we got into bed to just cuddle. He held me tightly and just whispered how much he loved me in my ear until I fell asleep.

#jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagines

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rosaline-black · 1 year

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ᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴇ ꜱᴛᴀɪɴᴇᴅ ᴄᴀʀᴅɪɢᴀɴ - ʀᴇᴍᴜꜱ ʟᴜᴘɪɴ

Category: Remus Lupin X fem reader

Summary: University muggle AU- Remus bumps into you in a lecture, like literally… and turns out you have a lot more in common than you originally had thought.

Freshers week had killed you. You knew uni was going to be night out mad but on mornings like this where you had an early lecture with a new class, you regretted going a little too hard with your flatmates.

“Y/n are you up?” Your flatmate lily called out creaking the door open, her ginger hair frayed, with dark circles making her eyes squint.

“Yep.. yep I’m up… what’s the time?”

“8:35…”

“SHIT!” Your class started in 25 minutes and you had only just woken up.

You managed to get dressed at the speed of light, a cozy cardigan and mom jeans being thrown on as quickly as possible. You fixed your wild hair and messily applied a little makeup to brighten your exhausted complexion.

You left the flat with ten minutes till class waving a quick goodbye to your friends before running to the lecture hall. Just as you got inside, with One minute to spare, a hard body collided with your own. All of your papers and your thermos that you’d been passed by your flatmate before you left, spilled everywhere the hot coffee staining your cream cardigan.

“Oh shit! Shit, I’m so sorry…” a very tall, mousy-haired boy turned around. He dove to the floor and collected your papers, his cheeks red with embarrassment.

“Your cardigan… I’m so sorry… I was heading to my seat and I didn’t see you there because I’m pretty tall you see and..and-”

“Calm down… I’m fine.. really just shhh…”

The mix of your now damp body, your banging headache, and this boy rambling all became a little too much as you rose your finger to his lips to shut him up. He immediately did as he was told and scrambled to give you your papers back.

As the lecturer entered everyone began getting seated, leaving you following after the boy, the only remaining seat being beside him. You could feel his guilty eyes planted on you as the lecture began.

“So you’re interested in literature huh?” His voice whispered.

“Yes, I am… I assume you’re the same?” You replied politely.

“Yes.. look I know you told me to shhh but I feel really bad about me being a clumsy wanker…”

You couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped your lips, another smile falling on his face.

“I’m Remus… Remus lupin…” he offered his hand

“I’m y/n.. y/n l/n…” you shook his hand and then turned away, now paying your full attention to the lecture.

Once the lecture had ended a couple of hours later, you were practically drifting into slumber. The boy beside you had noticed and carefully tapped your arm, resulting in you springing your eyes open.

“Remind me to never go on another night out when I have a lecture the following morning…”

He chuckled deeply and nodded following after as you both exited the lecture hall. His eyes followed your figure as he finally got a chance to take in your beauty. The way your hair, although messy, fell ever so perfectly and framed your face, the way your eyes twinkled at the end of the summer sun, you were mesmerizing, it took everything in him to not throw himself in front of a car over the fact he had greeted you by throwing coffee on you.

“Right better get back to my flat..”

“Same here I’m headed this way…”

Remus pointed in the same direction as your flat and the two of you laughed walking with each other. Truthfully he just wanted an excuse to spend more time with this pretty stranger.

“Freshers is killing you then huh?” Remus attempted to continue the conversation.

“Yes, it is! My friends are insistent on going out every night… and I mean don’t get me wrong I love drinking but every night… I just want to sleep…” you giggled lightly.

“Yeah I can relate to that one… my friends are just as bad… I’m more of a casual pub guy I guess… clubs are just so busy!”

“I completely agree! And it’s always packed and gross and just… oh here’s my flat block…”

Remus’s eyes widened “you’re kidding…”

“Uh no I’m not…” you shook your head confused.

“This is my flat block too!”

Both you and Remus burst into laughter “do you live alone?”

“No I live with three other guys… we all went to school together… what floor are you?” Remus asked as both of you got into the lift.

“Four…”

“We’re on the same floor!? Are you sure we don’t live together…” he joked

“Unless you’re secretly a woman then I’m not too sure…” you teased

Once the lift dinged to your floor both exited and went to walk in opposite directions down the corridor “right well it was nice to meet you, Remus.. apart from the uh.. coffee..”

Remus blushed deeply again “sorry.. again… and yeah it was lovely meeting you… uh if you ever want to go for coffee that does result being thrown all over you then my flat number is 106…”

You couldn’t help but blush yourself and smiled “Mines 112… I’m usually just binge-watching the office and reading so feel free to knock whenever…”

Remus nodded a little too enthusiastically before they both reluctantly departed. Unknown to each other both of them immediately sighed after entering their flats. Both are already growing crushes.

“What’s her name?” Sirius asked as he attempted to throw popcorn into James’s mouth.

“She doesn’t by chance live with a redhead called lily? I met her in my classes and I think I’m in love…” James uttered dramatically.

Remus rolled his eyes and sat with his friends “I’m not sure I haven’t been over there yet… and we haven’t had a class together since… I don’t wanna be some creep who just turns up on her doorstep..”

“Why don’t we all go? We could bring them like a cake or something for housewarming purposes…” James suggested with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“A cake? A fucking cake James? Oh yeah, nothing says raw sex appeal like a cake…” Remus countered sarcastically.

“Ooh, you have sex on your mind Mooney? Bloody hell I wanna see this girl come on…” Sirius announced springing to his feet and running out the door. Remus panicked and ran after him.

A knock on the door made you jump out of your skin. You were just dancing around in your kitchen to some Bowie and the loud bang halted you in your place.

Having just got out of the shower, it shocked you to have someone knock on your door so late in the evening, let alone when both your flatmates were out doing a food shop.

Apprehensively you opened the door and the site before you was pretty confusing. A guy with shoulder-length dark hair was leaning against the door frame with a smirk, while the boy you couldn’t stop thinking about was wide-eyed and panting behind him.

“Uh… hello?” You questioned

“Hello beautiful I’m Sirius… my friend here Remus said some girls lived down the hall and well I thought I’d introduce myself…” Sirius stated with a flirty smirk.

Remus looked completely horrified. The last thing he needed was his friend, who seemed to get any girl he wanted, going after the one girl he had taken a huge liking to.

“Well hello Sirius… my friends are currently food shopping so it’s just me… and hi Remus..” you said making a point of waving at the lanky boy who looked at a loss.

“We were out…” a female voice called out from behind the two boys. Lily and Marlene stood shopping bags in hand as they looked at the two boys judgmentally.

“Marlene.. lily this is Remus and Sirius…” you introduced opening the door wider so your two flatmates could pack away the shopping.

“Pleasure…” Marlene muttered sarcastically as she barged past the boys with lily following after.

“Is there something you wanted?” You asked politely realizing the two boys were still standing there.

“Well sorry y/n we were just… well he was-”

“What my dear pal Remus was trying to say is we’d love to come in.. have a couple of drinks get to know our new neighbours..” Sirius stated confidently.

You chuckled lightly and as your two friends simply murmured in agreement the two boys waltzed in, not before texting their over two friends to come and join in on the phone.

Turns out James and lily had met previously in one of their shared classes, the two of them chatted away happily. Marlene got along well with Sirius and Peter, she and Sirius bonded over their dating tips for men and women. This left you and Remus sitting together, both of you too nervous and awkward to start up a conversation.

“I see you got the stain out…” Remus’s voice called out after a prolonged silence.

You looked down at the cardigan you’d thrown on and smiled softly. It was the same one he’d stained with coffee just a few weeks prior.

“Yes I did.. was hard though I was going to knock on your door for the invoice..” you teased enjoying his gruff laugh.

“I know you hated me apologising but… I got you this as an apology…”

Remus rifled in his pocket for a bar of coffee flavoured chocolate. When he saw it he knew he needed to get it but just wasn’t sure when to give it to you.

Your eyes lit up at the site and you immediately threw your arms around him “This is my favourite chocolate brand!?”

“Me too!!” He said just as enthusiastically which made you chuckle even harder.

*********

The following months flew by with casual encounters and Remus doing everything to accidentally run into you. The annoying part was you were none the wiser, your friends however weren’t as oblivious.

Remus was currently doing his usual walk home, which consisted of walking past your apartment and loitering in the corridor just so he may be able to bump into you. Today however it wasn’t you he bumped into.

“Remus? Not loitering about again are you?” Marlene said rather bluntly as she left the flat.

“Oh no… I was just-”

“Save it… I know you’re mad for her and between me and you the feelings are mutual… so I’m going to help you…”

Remus was in shock but appreciated Marlene’s blunt attitude. He needed to take this into his own hands.

You had just come out of your last lecture for the day. Marlene had mentioned how no one was going to be home which was a little odd. But either way, you made your way home.

By the time you’d come up the stairs and gotten to the corridor where the entrance to your flat sat, it was clear what was going on.

There stood your favorite boy with a bouquet of flowers, a box of your favorite chocolates, and the cutest nervous smile you had ever did see. You were ready to grab him by the shoulders and snog him right then and there.

“Look y/n… I don’t think it’s too shocking by now to realise that I like you a lot… and if we could maybe… go out sometime… on a date, I’d be honoured…” Remus stated proudly. It was clear he’d rehearsed it in his head which to you made it even sweeter.

“Of bloody course…” you answered taking the flowers and chocolates and placing them on the ground. Remus furrowed his eyebrows and panic set in.

“Don’t you like them?”

“I love them… I can’t kiss you if there are flowers in your face though can I?”

“Guess not…”

Both of your cheeks were now hot with anticipation. You bent up and gently let your lips glide across his. You struggled not to smile throughout the kiss, it was so sweet and soft just like the boy before you

“About fucking time…” Marlene’s voice called out from the end of the hall. Unknown to you, all your new and old friends had gathered to watch the interaction. Sirius’s idea of course

#remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #James potter x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x fem!reader #Harry Potter x reader #Fred weasley x reader #George weasley x reader #sirius black #marauders #Draco malfoy x reader

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limi-strology · 1 year

Text

Astro observations II

Decided to make a part 2, didn't expect the first one to get more than, like, 50 notes 😅

Based on just my personal experience, might not be true for everyone! ᵔᴗᵔ

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ Contrary to the stereotypes, I don't think I've ever met a two faced Gemini. They honestly seem pretty cool people, they have so many friends and they just know how to communicate, you know? Their relationship with their partner looks really wholesome to outsiders too (but could be just me viewing it this way, lol). If anything, I think they just stand out more, which makes it a bit more difficult to approach them. 🤷‍♀️

┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ Gemini sun girls also have something aesthetic about them, like my cousin has a nice academia aesthetic going on in her life and a classmate from uni has this high-end fashion sense, she looks really pretty everytime (For some reason, when I think of Geminis, I'm envisioning luxury parties with champagne and brands like YSL and Louis Vuitton, that's the vibe I get) ✨

┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ People with Sagittarius in their big three (sun, moon, rising) are some of the most outgoing people I know. They have so many connections and, once their schedule allows it, they start planning coffee dates, hangouts with their friends, clubbing etc. A friend of mine can literally NOT stay at home the entire day, he just HAS to go out or meet up with people for at least 2-3 hours. ��️

┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ To the fellas with Moon opposition Neptune; How do you guys deal with moments in life that don't live up to your expectations? You know, when your imagination goes wild and has a very idealistic scenario of a certain situation, only for it to happen in a much different way and lowkey dissapoints you? Also, do you have dreams that kind of warn you or prepare you for something that will take place in the future? Because I feel like we kind of build our own world and the universe has to remind us that life isn't always perfect, lol 💭

┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ My dear Aquarians, why the pessimism? Rather than overthinking everything and imagining the worst scenarios possible, how about you try focusing more on positive things? Even if it's just something small each time, it helps you view your daily life in a better light :)

┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ Speaking of Aquas, I've noticed that most of you guys also don't really like being alone for too long. Sure, you want to have your me time (it's fine, we all do) but you also can't stand not having company around. Like, you'll randomly decide to stay in and spend some time alone but then you'll get upset and start calling your friends and family. A friend of mine cannot stand being alone for too long, even if we spend the whole day together, he hates being home on his own, to the point where he sometimes straight up takes the bus back to his hometown. It's wonderful that you enjoy spending so much time with others (I could never, lolll) but try picking up a hobby when you don't have the chance to be around people as much. It'll kind of distract you from loneliness and give you the chance to have some quality time with yourself 🧩

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Thank you for reading, hope you have a wonderful day 💙

Edit: Bonus Observations

So a lot of you guys commented that Aquarius actually prefers solitude and could easily pass time all by themselves, so I looked into the charts of the social Aquas I know irl and see what it is that makes them so outgoing and talkative;

(I didn't include houses because I haven't gotten to confirm their birth times)

• My friend has Saturn in Gemini, which can make people talkative in any situation (I also have this placement and, although I see myself as an introverted homebody, I am surprisingly pretty chatty and enjoy going out with people that make me happy). Truly, he always gives something to talk about with everyone he knows, sometimes he'll start a conversation with another friend of his while I'm standing there not knowing what to say or do in the meantime, like 🧍‍♀️?

• He also has Mars in Sagittarius and Jupiter in Leo; energetic, lively and outgoing, thrives when surrounded by people. He almost never gets tired of hanging out with people, my low social battery could never 😅

• Other than her sun, my mom also has Aquarius in her Mercury, which makes her friendly and likeable, plus she enjoys conversing with people.

• Another thing about my mom, her placements are a bit contradictory; She has Sun in Aquarius, Moon in Virgo, and Uranus and Pluto in Libra - These indicate shyness, independence and introversion. Truly, she prefers doing things on her own most of the time and doesn't open up to just anyone. She also used to be very shy around my age (probably because of Virgo moon?). However, she also has Jupiter and Neptune in Sagittarius, which make her more adventurous, outgoing, charming and humorous. So that would probably explain this whole 'outgoing yet independent yet still can't be lonely' vibe she gives me.

Hope this explains a bit better why I had this image of Aquas at first, thanks for sharing your thoughts in the comments!

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deliciousangelfestival · 10 months

Text

My Problematic Girl - Chapter 1

Character: College!Steve Rogers x Rich!Female Reader

Prologue: Steve has lived being nobody in this prestigious university. He just wants to graduate and get a job to get more money to pay the bills for his mother's surgery.

But his life turned upside when a new student attended his class. His quiet and dull life became dangerous and full of surprises.

×××

She exhaled the cigarette smoke from her lips. She still doesn’t care even though he told her he has asthma.

She looked at Steve and said, “Bark for me.”

Steve felt humiliated, and his pride was crushed. But she held his life and secrets. He had to bury his dignity to the ground, and he murmured,

“Woof.”

******

I would appreciate any comments and feedback you can give me.

If you want to be tagged in this series, please tell me.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 ,Chapter 8 , Chapter 9,-

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Pine trees, old gates, red bricks, this is the same view Steve saw every day for the past two years at Stark University he attended as an art student.

He always remembered the moment he got a scholarship and was accepted to this prestigious university.

It was the first time he felt alive.

He thought when his problem with tuition had been solved, he could enjoy being a university student compared to high school.

But it turned out to be the same. Every student here is super rich; they come to uni with their sports car, or their driver drives them to uni.

They live differently from Steve, who has to work different types of part-time jobs to get more money and pay hospital bills for his mother.

On the first day of class, the way rich kids look at Steve when they see him walk into the class, they know he doesn’t have the same life standards as them.

Steve tried to be friendly with them; they were nice at first. But he realised they were using his talents to do their work. They treat him like, ‘It’s a privilege to hang out with us; you should be grateful.’

Since then, Steve decided it was better to be a loner. With only eight months left, he will graduate and no longer have to meet these people. His footsteps stop in front of the class door.

"Did you watch the game last night?"

"You bet, and guess what? I sat with the club owner."

“Girls, my dad got us the ticket for that concert.”

That’s what Steve heard every day in his class. He couldn’t join the conversation because of his financial status.

Steve took the headphones from his pockets and put them on his ears. No one even bothered to say Hi when he walked into the classroom.

That’s good because if one of his classmates greets him, they want Steve to do their work. It’s better to be invisible or a wallflower.

He went to his table, dropped the old canvas backpack, and took out the sketchbook.

Since Steve was a kid, drawing was the only way for him to escape from reality. He forgot how his abused father, sick mother and snobby classmates were.

While drawing, Steve heard one of the female students start gossiping. One of the nice perks of being invisible, he could get a lot of gossip in this university.

“My father met the chancellor yesterday and heard a new student will join this class.”

“Before one semester to graduate? That’s unbelievable, but how?”

“I heard she’s close with Tony Stark. I guess one of his young girlfriends?”

“No, euuh.”

All the gossipers start laughing like they are better than anyone. But Steve agreed with one thing, what kind of person could attend a class last semester?

Suddenly the class door opened, and it was Prof. Abraham Erskine; before he walked into the room, he turned back and signalled, ‘Wait’.

He put his documents on his table and looked at his students. “Guys, you have new friends. Please be nice to her, alright?”

“Yeah.”

“Perfect.” Prof.Erskine clapped his hands once and waved his hand towards the person behind the door. “Come in.”

The rumour is true; a new student is joining the class.

Everyone could see her arrogant attitude when she walked into the room.

But the way she dressed from head to toe took the attention of every female student.

One of the females who sat in front of Steve whispered to her friend, “Did she wear those shoes to class, and that watch… cost more than this class tuition.”

“Who is she? If she were in the socialite club, I would’ve known.”

“Her name is Y/N L/N; starting today, she will study with us until last semester.” Prof.Erskine looked at Y/N and said, “Please be nice and don’t make trouble in my class.”

Everyone gasped when they heard their Professor beg this one student.

“Shit, she’s that bit*h.”

Steve turned to one male student who immediately closed his mouth.

“Who?”

“Remember that chaotic night at the H club? She kicked one of the guests to the table. She didn’t even apologise and continued her drink.”

“Ohh, I heard a drunk guy won't leave the female guest. She kinda helps the victim.”

"I remember she went to the same school as me. She kicked a teacher to the window and threw the table at him."

"She didn't get in any trouble?"

“Her father is the CEO of a Law Firm."

"Her parents gave her a penthouse, and I heard she always held amazing parties."

"That's cool. We should ask her later to hang out with us."

Steve shook his head; how fast their opinion changed when they knew she had money.

Prof. Erskine didn’t bother with his students, who kept whispering. He told Y/N, “You could sit near the window with that boy. His name is Steve.”

Y/N nodded and went to the chair where the Professor pointed his finger. Everyone in the class stops talking and watches her whenever she walks. Their eyes are looking in Steve's direction.

Their gaze made him nervous; today was not his lucky day. He lowered his head and continued sketching.

Nothing happened when she sat beside him. Steve thought he had to greet and introduce himself. But it’s unnecessary because she grabs a tablet and wireless headphones and starts playing games.

Everyone widened their eyes; the audacity of her being impolite and arrogant was on another level.

What Steve had in mind, ‘Ah, another rich kid.’

Professor Erskine didn’t even bother; he opened his laptop and set up the projector. “We will continue the study of Leonardo Da Vinci of his … … …”

Steve looked to the front,t but then he glanced at the new student. Before, she played games, and now she reads online comic books.

'Wait, did she read it from that website?'

She looked at him and caught him off guard. Steve nodded his head and looked back to the front. His face felt hot because that was embarrassing.

After the class ended, the first person who stood up after the Professor left was Y/N. A few people tried to approach her, but Y/N replied to them by saying, "Get lost."

Steve was confused; on the first day, Y/N had started to make an enemy. She could quickly join the clique if she wanted to, but it doesn’t seem like she cares.

‘Bzzt.’

Steve opened the message on his phone that said, “New 24 pages. Do you want to take the job?”

He immediately typed, “Yes.” It's an offer for extra money; Steve wouldn't say no.

“Steve, I have to talk about your final project.” Professor. Erskine asked him. For their final, every student has to make an exhibition. Usually, universities will provide a warehouse for students.

But now their curriculum has changed; the uni wants the students to find the place for their exhibition independently.

Almost all the students have no problem with this except Steve. He couldn't even afford his rent. How can he get money to rent a place just for one day?

That's why Prof. Erskine asked Steve about a sponsor.

“Have you found the sponsor?"

"Not yet, sir."

Steve gulped, he wanted to ask, but he didn't know anyone willing to give their money to sponsor an art student.

Prof. Erskine sighed. "I hope you will find a sponsor during the winter break, Steve. I know you will." He carried all his stuff and left the classroom.

Steve sighed heavily; he wished he knew one person with money.

Then he saw the new student, Y/N, looking at his sketchbook. He grabbed the book from her hand.

“Ah, sorry.” He wanted to scold her, but Steve didn’t expect her to apologise. He put the sketchbook into his bag and gathered all his stuff to leave.

“Wait.”

Steve's body stopped when he heard that. Then he saw Y/N grabbed her wallet and took an old photo. She shows it to him. It's a small photo in black and white colour, the paper also being crumpled or folded many times. When he saw it, he noticed the woman in the photo looked like Y/N.

“Could you draw her to be 40 years old? In this photo, she’s 25 years old. I saw your drawing. The way you do the shadow and wrinkles is nice.”

Steve doesn't know how to feel since he never got a compliment from his classmates.

“You won’t do it for free, of course. I will pay for it. Please?”

Steve takes a good look at her face. When she talks like this, it doesn’t seem like the same person from the class. And she asked nicely, and she was willing to pay.

“Ok.”

“Great, I will give you the deposit first.” She took $200 hundred from her pocket and handed it to Steve's hands.

His hands tremble because his drawing would only cost around $75. This money is enough to pay for groceries for a month.

"Uhm, it's too much." Steve felt guilty if he took the money. He handed back the money to her.

His act made Y/N quiet for a while; he thought she was mad at him, and she probably felt offended, but instead, she said, "No, for her, it's worth it."

When she said those words, Steve could feel the sadness in her voice. He doesn't know the meaning behind the story, but he will do his best to draw the photo.

"I will finish this in 3 days."

"That fast?"

Her question made him curious, is she an art student?

"Are you-?"

"Y/N!!!"

Before Steve asks her, someone yells her name. He turned back and saw the chancellor of Stark University, Tony Stark.

It's difficult to meet him, even though there are only two places to find him: the engineering lab or a nightclub. He's a famous playboy but also a genius.

So, to make him come by to this building is fantastic. And he's here for Y/N.

Is the rumour true that she's Tony's side chick?

"Nice to meet you, Steve. See you tomorrow." Y/N smiled at Steve and went to Tony.

He saw both of them walking together. Perhaps the rumour may be true.

Steve shook his head; it was not even his business. He should go home quickly and start drawing since he got two jobs today.

When he gets home, he turns on his old PC, grabs his drawing tablet and opens the storyboard he received.

Steve clicked his tongue; as a freelance artist, he can't say no to his client, but his morals get tested every time he gets a new storyboard from the client.

His work is drawing for Hentai comics. Some people see this as disgusting, but some people will like it. And Steve works with the people who are willing to pay. He will receive any request from the website called www.readwithme.com

This is the biggest secret he kept if anyone from the university knew his work. He could get dropped out. He even kept it from his best friend, Bucky.

He carefully picks a secret name and uses another email so no one will figure him out. His ID is VioletDust18.

Many people have read his works and subscribed to the story. He doesn't get paid much, but it's enough to pay the bills and rent...

He already got the rough sketch and opened the reference to start drawing. Steve didn't feel aroused when he looked at the photo or storyboard.

When the clock showed 9.00 p.m, Steve finished three pages. He stopped when he felt hungry. He opened up his wallet and saw $200. Today he will order a food delivery to treat himself, and tomorrow, he will buy groceries.

Suddenly Y/N appeared in his mind. He is grateful that she pays more than enough. But one thing that worries him is that she opens the website with Steve’s artwork.

She seems like not an art student. She probably wouldn't notice.

Yeah, it's better if she didn't notice, and after he's done with her request, she will ignore him.

Thank you for reading. I hope you like it.

If you have any feedbacks or want to join the tagged list, you can tell me.

I will always be grateful for those who reblog. Thank you so much.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 , Chapter 6, Chapter 7 ,Chapter 8 , Chapter 9,-

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margotw10bis · 5 months

Note

can write a fic about jungkook being y/n crush where he is popular but he isn't and when he finds out about the crush he rejects her and then the next say sees her at a bar they go home together and yeah he wakes up in her bed the next morning 🙏🙏

If I get this right, Y/N has a crush on Jungkook, a popular guy while she isn't.

crush!Jungkook x reader

Genre: drabble; request; angst; smut

Words: 3.6k (I got carried away, okay? 😭 I'm sorry)

Synopsis: Confessing to your crush doesn't go as planned. You get rejected immediately... Then why is Jungkook in your bed the next day, naked?

Warnings: crying; heartbreak; alcohol consumption; unprotected sex (this is not smart, don't do that); slight hair pulling -- not edited (sorry for the mistakes guys)

Your head hurts like hell. Once again, you promise yourself to never drink again — until one of your friends asks you to go party. You growl in pain, cursing at the sunshine peaking through the open curtains. You roll around in your bed, trying to hide your face into the mattress or a pillow. You are not ready to bump into something hard and warm.

Is that…? Someone?

Jesus Christ, did you drink this much that you ended up with a stranger? You don’t see much of him, only his black hair is facing you. He is sleeping on his stomach, face turned to the other side. Your heart and your breathing stop. You urge your intoxicated brain to remember what happened yesterday. However no memories are found, only a bigger headache.

You are naked and he certainly is too. You hate yourself for drinking right now. You knew that swallowing down your sorrow with alcohol wasn’t the solution and yet, you did it. And now God is punishing you.

You try your best to delicately get out of the bed without waking up… fuck, you don’t remember his name. You stay flat on the mattress, only sliding to the side as slowly as possible. When your foot reaches the floor, you want to yell in joy but you freeze instantly when the stranger’s arm warps around you.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

This is bad. Real bad. You turn your head very slowly, ready — or not — to discover with whom you have slept with. Your breathe hitches when you witness a familiar face. Very familiar, to be honest.

"Jungkook?!" You exclaims

The said man wakes up abruptly and he frowns in confusion at your sight.

What the fuck happened yesterday?!

‧₊˚✧

22 HOURS EARLIER

Your cheek in your palm, you are daydreaming about Jeon Jungkook. You are certainly not the only one but you can’t resist. You mean, the guy is just perfect. Perfect smile with a cute dimple, perfect doe eyes, perfect bubble nose. Perfect large shoulders, firm chest, defined abs and strong thighs. Perfect.

It is not surprising Jungkook is one of the most popular guys on campus, and it has nothing to do with him being a senior because he was just as popular when he was a freshman. His popularity is due to him being him. Good at every sports, great looks, funny. It is just not surprising at all that Jeon Jungkook is the king of college.

You can’t even count how many girls are crushing on him. You don’t resent them because you are one of them. Ever since your first year in uni, you have been crushing on him — to be honest, it isn’t too hard to do.

Feeling like it is now or never because the year is almost over and you’ll grow part ways, you have finally decided to confess. Jungkook has always been nice to you, even sometimes sat next you in class. He has never mentioned the fact that you are not part of the ‘popularity club’ — it’s not something that you are looking for either.

That is why you send him a DM on Instagram. Pretty much all students follow him, his account having more than 10k followers while, on his side, Jungkook only follows about 200 people — and you are not one of them. Anyway, you ask him to meet you after class near the coffee shop you know he loves. He agrees, your heart immediately racing in your chest.

At the end of the day, you are waiting for Jungkook. You can’t deny that you are feeling stressed and your bouncing leg is a clear sign of it. You breathe deeply, close your eyes and try to meditate a little in order to calm you down. You have already been through all kinds of scenarii in your head so what could go wrong?

Deep in thoughts, you are startled when Jungkook’s deep voice lands into your ear.

"Are you okay?"

His question is a mix of worry and amusement and his sweet smile makes your cheeks burn. You nod and clear your throat.

"You wanted to talk?" Jungkook asks gently, encouraging you to explain your invitation

It’s true that you are not one to message him a lot. Actually, you’ve never had before. But like you said, it’s now or never.

"Yeah, I, uh, wanted to tell you something" You start with an unsure voice which makes Jungkook curious

He nods for you to keep going.

"So, uh" You clear your throat again

Fuck, your hands are sweaty and your heart is beating fast. When did it get this hard to talk?

"I like you. I have been for a while to be honest and I—"

"Y/N" Jungkook cuts you off and it doesn’t seem good "I’m flattered but I’m not looking for a relationship"

Ouch. It kind of hurts. And it’s embarrassing.

"You are a nice girl but not really my type. Sorry"

Ouch number 2. It’s even more frustrating when it feels like a sentence he has said numerous times. He seems so detached, and his words automatic like a line he has rehearsed. You don’t like it, at all.

You can only nod, too embarrassed to do anything else and your throat too dry to say something. You just watch Jungkook walking away from your broken heart.

‧₊˚✧

10 HOURS EARLIER

Going to the bar seemed a good idea to drown your sorrow. And it has done the trick for a couple of hours, swallowing shots after shots. But now, you are feeling alone and pathetic, which you are to be honest. You were so dumb to confess to Jungkook. Of course, you’re not his type. He is hanging with the most beautiful and popular girls of the school for god’s sake! By clapping his fingers, he has hundreds of girls ready to strip for him. There was no way you could compete…

You are heartbroken. Truly heartbroken that the guy you have loved for four fucking years has rejected you like that. Like it was easy not to love you back. Like it was nothing to break your little heart. And that, this thought, makes you cry. You have officially reached bottom, crying alone at the bar like in a stupid romcom for a guy who doesn’t love you.

You don’t even have your dignity unspoiled because this is not a pretty crying. Big rounded tears fall down your cheeks and you loudly sob. The bartender winces at you, wondering if he should do something but he is wise enough to stay away.

What you don’t know is that Jungkook is in the very same bar as you. Holding a large glass of whiskey, he drinks in one shot, wincing at the strong burn in his throat.

"Fuck, man!" Mingyu, one of his close friends, exclaims "What are you celebrating?" He jokes

Jungkook replies with a humorless chuckle, playing with his empty glass. He is not celebrating that’s for sure. He doesn’t waste time and orders another drink and swallows it as fast as the first one. He definitely needs to get wasted tonight.

The alcohol does its work because after a third glass, Jungkook feels slightly numb. He even manages to put a smile on his face. He laughs lightly, scanning the bar but freezes when he spots you. You are alone and you swipe your face to get rid of the tears. Even with the distance, Jungkook can tell. He sighs, weirdly annoyed by the scene. Why are you such a pain in the ass? Couldn’t you stay at home if you wanted to cry? Why did you have to be here? Why did you have to show how much he hurt you?

"Fucking luck" He growls with gritted teeth and stands up to walk to you

He grows grumpy, the alcohol certainly making things harder for Jungkook.

"Go home, Y/N" He orders you with a cold tone

Your eyes lift up and Jungkook hates how they immediately brighten. Why don’t you hate him?

"Kookie!" You exclaim but you speak lazily and Jungkook gets that you are completely wasted "Come sit with me, I’m all alone!" You whine and pout while tapping on the empty seat next to you

Jungkook wonders if he should sit down. It’s probably a bad idea, yet he does it.

"What do you drink? It’s on me!" You cheerfully announce with a big — or you think because it’s actually a drunken — smile

The tattooed man sighs. How can you be crying your soul out and then, the very next second, smiling at him as if you were the happiest girl on Earth?

"Straight whisky" Jungkook mumbles and you order two to the bartender "You’re sure you want one? It’s pretty strong"

You nod frenetically.

"It’s okay! I’m happy you’re here"

"What are you doing here?" He asks with annoyance

"I was sad. You broke my heart" You confess — certainly something you wouldn’t do if you were sober "So I was sad and alone. And I didn’t want to be, so I came here"

"Are you happy and accompanied now?" He mocks

"Yes, I am" You reply nonetheless, not noticing the sarcasm in his voice

The two glasses of strong liquor are handed to you. You urge Jungkook to cheer with you, which makes him roll his eyes. What the fuck is he doing here with you? He should be with his friends, enjoying the night.

"You were mean, earlier" You say at some point "You really hurt me"

Although, there is no reproach in your tone. You are just saying what you are feeling and it’s weird for Jungkook to hear someone being this honest with him. People usually play a role around him, because they want to be like him, popular.

"Sorry" He replies with automatism because he doesn’t regret rejecting you

You shake your head horizontally.

"I’m happy now, you’re with me"

You shrug your drink and grab his big hand. It’s warm and comforting and your drunken state doesn’t allow you to notice Jungkook tensing at your gesture. However, he doesn’t move. You are drunk, so what’s the point of scolding you? And Jungkook is not that sober either.

"Will you drink with me tonight?" You ask with a pout, certainly trying to make puppy eyes

This doesn’t work but Jungkook can’t, oddly, let you alone. Maybe he feels guilty about hurting you, he doesn’t know but, anyway, he accepts and orders other shots.

As the night grows darker and the drinks more numerous, you scoot closer to Jungkook, almost sitting on his lap. You can’t speak properly anymore, and Jungkook is no better. You both have intoxicated brains. That is why you don’t understand how your mouth lands on your crush’s lips. But you don’t care because it feels good. Really good.

Jungkook cups your face and kisses you harsher. You feel aroused, that’s for sure and the alcohol in your system doesn’t prevent you from moaning loudly against his mouth.

"Fuck…" Jungkook whispers in awe at your sounds because it’s fucking sexy and he is only kissing you

He deepens the kiss, turning it into a real make out session with messy kisses, wet sounds and tongues intertwining. His hands reach down your ass, squeezing it and urging you to straddle him. It’s scandalous, that’s for sure. It’s why the bartender clears his throat and asks you not too kindly to leave.

"Let’s go to my dorm" You say between two kisses when you step outside

"Hurry up, I’m fucking hard" Jungkook bluntly announces and your cheeks — already red and hot by liquor — burn

The heated make out session doesn’t stop when you reach your room. Tongues are dancing together and palms are caressing all kinds of body parts. And soon, your filthy hands peer each other naked.

‧₊˚✧

PRESENT TIME

Shit, you did fuck with Jungkook... you think. You quickly press the sheets against your body to cover your chest. Which is ridiculous because he has already seen it all. You bury your head in your hands out of shame.

"I can’t believe it…" You mumble, more to yourself than to Jungkook "Did we… did we, you know, do it?" You gather the courage to ask

"I don’t know, I was fucking drunk" He answers with a growl due to his hangover "But there is a simple way to find out"

You tilt your head up, looking at Jungkook curiously. You then realize how good he looks right now. His black hair is messy, his face a little swollen but he is as handsome as ever. The duvet is covering his naked body up to his shoulders but you get a peak at his muscular torso. You seize the opportunity to look at his full sleeve tattoo. You get hypnotized by the inked pattern for a few seconds. He is fucking hot. And he knows it because he is casually laying on your bed, comfortable with his head resting on his palm.

"Do you feel sore down there?"

And you shake your head to say no.

"Then, we didn’t fuck. Trust me, you would still feel it if we had"

You notice a hint of cockiness in his voice and you can’t believe he is joking right now. He has broken your heart and now he is making fun of you.

"You’re kidding, right?" You tell him quite harsh — which is unusual of you

"I’m serious. I’m kind of blessed for that. Haven’t you heard the rumors?"

You surely have. Jungkook is popular, and the words of him having a big dick have spread around campus. And yeah, you were kind of curious to check if those rumors were true but you are not anymore. Jeon Jungkook broke your heart and, someway, you feel even more embarrassed that, even drunk, he didn’t find you attractive enough to sleep with you — and you were fucking naked.

"Can you please leave?" You whisper because you don’t trust your shaky voice

Jungkook nods but stares at you. He can tell your eyes are getting watery despite you looking away. It feels odd. Jungkook isn’t pleased to see you hurt, he doesn’t like it. He shouldn’t care, he means, he doesn’t know you much. Just some casual chats during class but that’s it. You’re basically strangers to each other so why does he care?

"I’m sorry"

The words escape his mouth before he can think.

You don’t really know if the remaining of alcohol in your system or something else but the moment you look at him and your eyes fall on his attractive lips, you can’t control yourself and kiss him. You are sure he is going to push you away, reject you like he did yesterday because, yeah, nothing has changed.

But Jungkook doesn’t push you away. Quite the opposite actually because he skillfully slides upon you. You moan at the touch of his hot and naked body against yours. Gosh, he feels so good. His skin is so soft, yet you can feel his strong muscles.

Your legs part to accommodate his hips between them. His length, that is hardening, brushes against your bare pussy. Jungkook’s hands caress your body: your breasts, your stomach, your thighs but finally settle on your back and neck to hold you close. You feel right in his arms, that’s what comes to his mind at present time and it shakes him a little bit.

However, you bring him out of his thoughts when you tug on his black locks, moaning against his delicious lips. And Jungkook wants to taste more of you, just like the little appetizing he had would never be enough. Nothing seems to be enough.

His mouth drifts to your throat, kissing and sucking on your thin and sensitive skin. It pushes you to wrap your legs around his torso and press his cock against your cunt. You need the friction, you are too wet, too aroused to stick to a heavy making out session. You want Jungkook, all of him.

One of your hands goes South, sneaking between your glued bodies, to find his dick. Jungkook growls against you when you start jerking him off. He is so hard and he feels so big in your hand. He was right: you would definitely be sore if you had fucked last night.

"Please, fuck me" You beg

"Shit" Jungkook curses at your filthy words that just state his own wish "Shove it in your little pussy" He orders

And you do. You grab him at the base and guide his tip at your entrance. He immediately feels your wetness and it’s so fucking hot. Jungkook captures one of your nipples with his mouth while he is pushing inside you.

You gasp and your walls clench around the intruder.

"Fuck, you’re tight" He says but his tone almost sounds like a praise

He doesn’t wait one second before settling a quick pace. You whine and whimper and moan, gripping the sheets to stay down on Earth. Fuck, Jungkook is so good. He is fucking so good. It’s better than anything you have experienced before and you wish it could never stop.

"Oh my god!" You scream when Jungkook starts drawing circles on your clit

You know you are too loud, so you cup his face and kiss him. He happily welcomes your mouth back, bitting on your lower lip to slip inside. His inked arm still securely holds you tight against him, because you would be pushed up by the force of his poundings but also because he wants to cuddle you. And this is definitely a weird thought coming from Jungkook because he doesn’t do cuddles.

"Kookie, I’m gonna come" You inform him between two kisses

He lifts up his torso but his dick strokes are hard and deep, making your tits bounce. The frown on your face — not one guided by pleasure — questions him. Why did he scoot away? You miss his heat.

"I wanna see you cum" He explains and you nod

He intertwines your fingers on each side of your head and the gesture seems too kind for the sinful act you are making right now. It’s too kind and too dangerous for your broken heart. Yet, you squeeze his big palms tighter.

Your pussy tightens too around Jungkook’s big cock and you reach your high with a broken cry of his name. Your nails dig into the back of his hand but he doesn’t even notice it.

"Fuck, you are so beautiful" He says softly while he watches in awe your face torn by pleasure

He shouldn’t say that. He shouldn’t make you more attached to him than you already are. He shouldn’t get attached to you.

As soon as you have reached down after your orgasm, your mouth opens:

"Make me cum again"

You are just perfect, Jungkook screams in his head.

He pulls out, gets a strong grip on your body and flips you around so you can lay on your stomach. Jungkook slightly lifts up your ass and enters you again. The way he is fucking you is intense. His lap slaps your ass perfectly and the sounds your clapping skins create are a clear sign of this being a good fuck.

He bites your shoulder, making you moan louder. Once again, you are gripping your sheets. Jungkook’s tattooed hand pulls on your hair so he has a better access to your neck to kiss it and mark it. You hear him growls when your pussy clenches around him.

"Fuck, you are so good" He says, not even believing how right it feels to fuck you

His free hand slides between your hot body and the mattress to reach your swollen clit and rub it. Fast. Really fast and you are losing your mind — not caring about your screams of pleasure anymore. You are surely wakening all the students on your floor.

"Kookie, I’m so close" You whine when Jungkook pinches your bud

"Cum for me, cum around my cock"

Despise his naughty words, Jungkook acts tenderly: his hand is no longer tugging harshly on your hair but cupping and caressing your cheek, his arm completely enveloping you in his embrace. You don’t have time to question it because you reach cloud nine.

Your body is shaking due to your second orgasm and your cunt is so tight that Jungkook’s cock is getting milked. He cums too, filling your pussy with his hot white cum.

You are both panting and in a sexual high because there is no way Jungkook is sweetly kissing your cheek and cuddling you. But his body feels heavy on yours so there is no way you are imagining it. Your own hands brush his forearm around your waist delicately, afraid that it’ll scare him away.

Jungkook rolls on the side, realizing that he has just fucked you. It was dumb and yet, he can’t bring himself to regret it. You look at him in silence and he can easily imagine that you are wondering why he has just fucked you if he rejected you yesterday. And you deserve an explanation.

"Listen, I’m not looking forward a relationship right now, it's not the right time"

Your heart tightens in your chest and it feels like you are brought 22 hours earlier, when you were confessing — a stupid thing that you regret now.

"I know" You say quietly "Even if you were, it could be hard. I’m moving to Seattle"

Jungkook’s eyes widen. Seattle? No way, this can’t be happening.

"I’m moving there too. That’s why I rejected you, I don’t do well with long distance relationships"

"I-It’s—" You stutter, not really knowing how to feel — even if the feeling of hope growing in your chest is hard to mistake "Cool" You finally settle for "Maybe we’ll see each other again then"

Yeah, maybe you’ll meet again. Your story might not be ending at the end of the school year after all.

------

I hope that you like it! 🩷 I didn't think that I could be this inspired but I really liked writing it! Thank you for you request and don't hesitate to send more! 🩷

#bts fanfic #bts #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jjk x reader #jjk #fanfic #bangtan sonyeondan #request #jungkook request #jungkook smut #bangtan #jungkook bts #university au

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wonwoosthetic · 10 months

Text

Amour-Haine & Co. | Chapter 17 |

series masterlist

kpop masterlist

warnings – SMUT hehe, cursing, explicit fight scene at the beginning, mentions of blood and death

word count – 13k

A/N: for making you guys wait for way too long, I wanted to give you some more smut FINALLY🫶🏼 ˙ᵕ˙ of course, thank you for the continuous patience while I make my way through uni and tumblr and I hope you enjoy this series as we take it further and further <3

"We've been here once before, right?"

With one last huff, Shownu dropped the limp body of the man he had been punching only seconds ago. The white dress shirt now covered in blood, stuck to his body as he adjusted the sleeves. With the hand he had used to cause the damage surrounding him, he wiped his mouth and spat on the floor.

Bodies were scattered all over the club floor, which was usually filled with dancing feet and people drinking and celebrating. Only a few moments ago, music was playing, drinks were being shared, couples were making out, and just within a split second, everything stopped. And it all started with a woman and two men, that suddenly turned into an entire troupe with no trace of her.

The men of Monsta X stood at different points within the room, now looking at the mess they created. Heavy breathing filled the space, coughing coming from each corner. The lights were still dimmed, just like they would be on any other day, the soft red beams striking the walls.

"What the fuck just happened?!" The panicked voice of Changkyun, the newest and youngest member of Seoul's most notorious gang, echoed through the club.

With a low chuckle, the leader lifted his head, his eyes immediately scanning the men in front of him - the other group they had decided to trust merely a few weeks ago. All were breathing harshly, gazing at the ground in almost horror. Shownu's glare fixated on one person in particular.

"Yeah, Jeon." Wonwoo looked up, the cold look meeting his. "What the fuck just happened."

The SVT men's heads shot to the guy they considered their leader. The man that had brought them to where they were then and now. But he just gently shook his head, his palms open as he pointed with them to his surrounding.

"These are your enemies Son, not mine."

Shownu took one step closer, his leg lifting to cross the body ahead of him. "Then explain to me how they got in here. You really think I'd leave my doors open for my own enemies."

Everyone knew what he was indicating. They all knew it from the beginning.

The whole vision of Monsta X and SVT working together came out of thin air almost. It was Wonwoo's idea. Of course, it was. He wanted to do right what his father did wrong. And number one on the list longer than his lifeline was to fix the relationship between the long-lasting rivalry between the Sons and the Jeons. What started off with a purely business idea had turned into gang work decades ago. Each leader brought their family into it, and if you were the son of said man, you would be the next in line to lead a future team. No questions.

It had been Wonwoo's biggest nightmare. It had haunted him all throughout his childhood, up until the day he was officially assigned to the position he had been trying to avoid his entire life. But with a new generation came new connections and new leaders in line. Wonwoo had hoped Shownu would accept his offer and attempt to fix their families' rivalry instead of trying to bury each other six feet under.

It all had been going well up until that night because what goes around, comes around and Wonwoo had learned that the hard way.

"Look," he spoke up. "I don't know what you think of me, and I honestly don't care. But I couldn't give less of an interest in these guys when I was just trying to work with you, alright?" He tilted his head in a slightly demeaning way. "So maybe you should start looking for a wolf in sheep's clothing."

If the breathing of each man in the room hadn't been so unbearably loud, you would've felt the immediate change of atmosphere in the shared space. Wonwoo should've regretted the words he had just let fall from his lips, but he didn't. He couldn't. Mingyu dreaded getting closer to his leader, his best friend but knew better and stayed in the back, covering the other members he considered family.

Shownu's hands found their way into his pockets as he casually took a few more forward, his broad shoulders chilling along with with his body. His tongue glided over his teeth. "Are you trying to set me up against my own men?"

"I'm not trying to set you up against anyone. I'm only giving you possibilities." Wonwoo shrugged. He didn't budge. Not with each step the other leader got closer to him. Not even a little bit.

Shownu continued until the two men were nose to nose in front of each other, glaring into their souls. He gave the other man a quick up-and-down look before opening his mouth.

"Vernon." He got the attention of the, back then, youngest that had stayed back in a different room, only joining the other men once he heard the dead silence. "Start cleaning up the mess." Meaning the corpses on the floor. The blood splashes on the tiles would come later.

The youngster gulped, looking around the room, trying to lock eyes with one of his friends, begging for help, but all they did was copy his facial expression. Wonwoo's scoff reached their ear.

"Ehm," Vernon cleared his throat. He started nodding hesitantly, glancing at each body. "Yeah, yeah... I'll... do that." Just as he was about to bend down, his leader's deep voice bounced off the walls.

"Vernon," still staring at Shownu, no blink shared between them. "Don't you dare even lift a finger."

The older guy raised his left eyebrow. "Now, suddenly you're the one giving orders?"

"They listen to me. They're not one of your maids." Wonwoo spat back.

Shownu chuckled, looking around the room, almost finding humour in the situation. "And here I thought we would finally become one, but no, the Jeon ego just always gets in the way." Looking down at the floor, he kicked one of the bodies to give him more space. His arms were crossed in front of his chest. His glare fell back on Wonwoo. "You know, I had my doubts, Jeon. I really did. But here you waltzed in with your cute little entourage of businessmen wannabe gangsters, begging for forgiveness for all the shit your ancestors did, and I almost wanted to believe you. Almost. And then pull this shit here." He opened his arms widely, welcoming the mess around him.

"I said it before, I'll say it again. I have nothing to do with what happened here." SVT's leader pulled his sleeves up higher from where they fell down during his fight with one of the guys that attacked him in the scene that happened only a few minutes ago. "But you know," he took a deep breath, "It's always difficult trusting new people." His eyes fell on the newest and youngest addition of Monsta X. A person he considered a past friend, now long forgotten.

"And here you go doubting my men again." With quick strokes, Shownu was at arm's length of Wonwoo. "I'd better watch my mouth if I were you and want to keep living my life, Jeon. Or imma end it real quick for you."

Wonwoo casually put his hands into his pocket, sighing in boredom. "You can keep your trust issues to yourself, Son. I don't want to have anything to do with that."

Shownu squinted his eyes at the younger man before erupting in laughter, scaring not only the men on the other side but his own as well. Madness wasn't a level the leader had reached yet. But maybe the time had come.

"You know, you truly are just like your father. Just... utterly intolerable.-"

"I'm sorry, what did you just say?" Wonwoo's facial expression changed within less than a second. His eyes glared holes into the man in front of him, his mouth slightly agape.

A low chuckle shook Shownu's body. "First blind, and now he's also turning deaf," glancing at his members that joined in on the humourous reaction, before turning back to Wonwoo, who still kept his nose up high. "I said, you're exactly like your father. So you better bet-" And that's when the first fist flew. Wonwoo's knuckles clashed against the other man's jaw, a crack coming from the impact, but who got hurt more was unknown.

Shownu couldn't help but to stumbled back slightly, his fingers grazing over the burning bruise forming on his skin. He just had to chuckle.

"Struck a nerve?"

"I don't think I should be the one keeping my mouth shut."

Shownu straightened his back followed by cracking his neck by moving his head from side to side. "You really want to go separate ways like this?"

Wonwoo shrugged. "I think you'd enjoy that."

Monsta X's leader nodded, "Oh, you better I'm gonna enjoy this." Before crossing the floor to let his fist collide with Wonwoo's stomach. He was quick to catch himself from stumbling too much, reaching out to grab the man's collar, pulling him in closer, only to send him crashing against the bar counter.

That's all it took for the other men of the gang to go up against Wonwoo's group, running towards them individually, preparing themselves to follow their leaders into another fight when they had only just won one.

Minhyuk got a hold of Dokyeom, throwing him onto the floor quickly, but the younger man managed to pull him down with him.

Kihyun didn't see Hoshi, who had snuck up behind him, his arm circling around his throat to cut off the air, causing the Monsta X member to choke loudly before knocking both of them back into the wall, earning a grunt from Hoshi.

Hyungwon got rid of his jacket to wrap it around Seungkwan's wrists skillfully, pulling the younger one closer to him and twisting his arms around to his back, getting a cry out of pain in return.

The grunt reached Mingyu's ear, making him run towards the duo, only to be stopped when Wonho bumped into him as S.Coups had punched his face, involving now also the tallest member even though he just wanted to get the second youngest of the group, who had now managed to free himself and turned the fight around. Changykun was close by when his eyes found his member fighting off the eldest and the tallest members of SVT, alerting him. He snatched a glass off one of the small tables, taking it along with him. Right as he showed up behind Mingyu, he smashed the glass against his head before getting a hold of his dress shirt and dragging him off his fellow member.

Wonwoo and Shownu had gotten their own space behind the bar, earning punch after punch from each other, interrupted by a few bottles being thrown or kicks to the legs.

Huffs, grunts, moans in pain, and cracking bones were the only sounds filling the club that usually only housed music and skin-against-skin slapping during sexual encounters.

If the space didn't already look messy enough from the party before, it now seemed more than just destroyed. Glass pieces decorated the floor and bodies, the suit jackets the men had worn before were scattered on different furniture and sticky fluids covered all possible surfaces.

Shownu managed to get a hold of Wonwoo's thick set of hair, holding his head up against his, his low voice ringing through his ear.

"You're a fucking rat, Jeon. Not a bit better than your father. You're the same asshole he was and will forever be exactly just that." With full force, he pushed the younger man's head against the bar countertop. He kept pressing down while Wonwoo wiggled around, trying to get out of the situation. He was about to kick back, hoping to hit his kneecap when the pressure against the side of his skull lifted. With a quick push, he was back up on his feed, watching what had happened. He found Vernon, standing behind Shownu, a pole in his hand, with which he must've hit the Monsta X leader as he was holding the back of his head, glaring at the youngest.

Wonwoo took the chance to snap off the metal hose that was connected to a beer chug underneath the counter. Just as Shownu was about to connect his fist with Vernon's face, SVT's leader wrapped the house around the older man's neck, pulling him up against his chest. Wonwoo tightened it as much as possible, hoping to knock the other man out when Shownu smacked his head back against Wonwoo's forehead, making him lose the grip on the hose. With a quick move, Shownu got a hold of the younger one's shirt and lifted him slightly, only to throw him over the bar counter. Wonwoo's back hit the floor, making him grunt out loud as he felt the tiniest splinters of glass boring his skin.

He knew he had to get up quickly, no matter how much pain he was in. His head was throbbing, there was a continuous ringing in his ear, and his glasses were God knows where at this point - he cursed whoever was up there for his terrible eyesight. He could feel the blood trickling down his back and hands as he got up, his jaw feeling swollen, and his left eye was almost glued together from the blood that had already started to dry out.

Shownu came around the corner, spitting out a tooth onto the floor as his gaze was back on his rival. He watched the man come back to his feet. The action made him chuckle.

"You better not die on my floor."

Wonwoo glared at him. "You wish. A Jeon's corpse in your club must be like Christmas to you."

His comment made Shownu smirk. "You know me too well." Before running up to the younger man again, raising his fist. Wonwoo was quick to react and duck out of the way, snatching a knife he saw earlier from the countertop, only to jam it into the older one's shoulder. He cried out in pain, stumbling forward as he tried to reach for it, but it was stuck in a place he couldn't reach. He turned around in anger, his face burning red. Shownu was met with a gun pointed directly at him.

"Who would've thought Jeon Wonwoo carries a gun with him," he choked out, slight amusement concealing his voice.

Wonwoo shook his head, his breathing still harsh as he tried not to fall to the ground. "It's not mine."

That's when Shownu noticed the sudden silence in the room. Ahead of him was Seungkwan laying on the ground, Hyungwon right next to him, his own gun pointed at Wonwoo. Wonho was knocked out on the floor with S.Coups and Mingyu sitting on one of the blood-covered couches, Changkyun right underneath Mingyu's foot, begging for air.

Hoshi was coming closer to the leading duo, Kihyun's gun now in Hoshi's hands as he held it right against his rival's temple with his other arm tight around his throat.

Everything was quiet when a painful cough echoed through the room. Through a door, that was now flat on the floor, came Dokyeom crawling on his knees while Minhyuk pushed him further with his foot. Wonwoo locked eyes with his member, who glanced at his leader in despair and embarrassment. He nodded at the younger member to reassure him before directing his attention back to his rival.

The gun was still pointing directly at Shownu, who had decided to stay still on the floor, but he chuckled with a salty undertone.

"So you want a Son's corpse in this club?"

Wonwoo shook his head, lowering the gun in his hand. "I don't want you dead. I don't need any blood on my hands."

"Look around you. Look at what you did, Jeon." The Monsta X leader tried to trick him.

"These guys are passed out for good, but not dead." His statement earned him a look of confusion from Shownu, so he continued, "I teach my men how to fight. Not how to kill." He dropped the gun and threw it towards the leader on the floor before turning around, only to get stopped when the older man got up. He told the other members to lower their weapons with a quick hand move.

"You're still a rat." Wonwoo turned around one last time at the sudden comment. "I should've listened to my father. Don't trust a Jeon. Never trust a Jeon."

He got a nod from SVT's leader in return, who exchanged glances with his guys, making them stand up as Mingyu rushed over to help Dokyeom up from the floor.

With a quick glance at Shownu, he bid his goodbye. "Well. From now on, you won't have to anymore." And started walking towards the door, the other members in trail close behind him. He couldn't help but to let out the last comment that kept tickling his tongue before exiting through the front door. "You better start cleaning up the mess if you want the club to re-open tomorrow."

Outside, each man was finally able to breathe in the fresh air, sounding like men starved from breathing for a decade as they enjoyed the night breeze that struck their bruised skin. Wonwoo immediately started looking around for the youngest member. He quickly found his silhouette sitting on the side of the pavement, a cigarette dangling between his lips. Right next to him, was the limp body of the security guard that had let them in about two hours ago. The sight made the leader almost chuckle.

"How's the guy?" He asked the youngster, who had turned around, nudging his head towards the buff man on the floor.

Vernon puffed out the last bit of his cigarette. "Knocked out pretty good. He won't remember any of this in a few hours."

Wonwoo nodded, "Good," and patted the shoulder of the younger member, giving him a quick glance. "Well done."

"Thanks, boss."

Not even letting anyone else interrupt, the man, apparently called Shownu, continued right after he brushed off the two women on each side of him, followed by his colleagues doing the same thing. "I see you replaced your little entourage with something much much more beautiful. Hey." His eyes were fixed on your form, noticing how you had tried to hide half of your body behind the CEO's frame.

"I'm more important than her right now, Son," Wonwoo's deep voice sliced the room while you watched the women awkwardly jogging out of the room.

The other man scoffed, exchanging amused glances with his friends before locking eyes with you again. "Well, how dare you say something like that about such a beauty. What's your name, darling?"

"I swear-"

"You should've brought the other guys if you didn't want me to talk to her, Jeon." Shownu cut off Wonwoo right away. His legs were still wide, his back relaxed against the back of the couch, the other men in similar poses.

A low chuckle came from the one on the right. "He knew they wouldn't survive another visit."

"You weren't even here the last time, so shut your fucking mouth, Jooheon," Wonwoo snapped at him. He jumped up from the couch immediately, ready to rush over to the two of you, when his leader stopped him.

"Boys, boys, calm down." He stood up with a grunt, taking two steps forward. His right hand held onto the wrist of his other one, giving a clear stance of power as he gave you another look that ran up and down your body, shooting a cold shiver through your body. "I'm sure Sir Jeon Wonwoo right here is smarter than that, right? Like you said, it would just make a terrible mess, wouldn't it?"

Not getting a verbal answer in return, was enough for him to continue. "Well then." He clapped his hands, rubbing them together. "Let's not play around and cut to the chase, huh?" His eyes met Wonwoo's cold glare. "Why the fuck do I have your feet on my ground again? And more importantly-" Before bending down to the side slightly to find you. "What is a lady like you doing in a hellhouse like this?"

Uncontrollably, you lifted your hand to touch Wonwoo's back, hooking your fingers into the small belt thing in the back of his suit jacket. Wonwoo knew better than to spit at Shownu again, but he could also feel the fear radiating off your body, making him change his stance just slightly, hoping it would go unnoticed by his rival. Of course, it didn't.

With a bright smile, the other man opposite you took a step to the side, extending his arm to point at the seating arrangement behind him.

"Please." All while keeping his eyes on you. You tried to look away, tried breaking the intense contact he held with you, but it seemed almost impossible.

In the first second, your brain didn't want to understand what he was proposing, but you quickly caught onto it, shaking your head softly in response. Opening your mouth, your voice seemed so much smaller than you had wanted to. It was bound to happen, in a room as big as that, surrounded by men with their physiques.

You gently raised a hand. "I... I'm good."

Shownu stood back straight, raising one eyebrow. "I wasn't asking, darling."

All while Wonwoo was unresponsive. No change in posture, no noticeable uneven breathing. Not even a clenched fist. It seemed as if he almost didn't care about his possible biggest rival inviting the woman behind him to come closer. You let your eyes travel to the side, hoping to catch a glimpse of him looking down at you, letting you know what to do, but the CEO continued to keep his head up high, glaring at the man in front of the two of you.

With each passing second spent in unbearable silence, Shownu got more and more impatient, slowly but surely also rubbing off on the other men of his in the room as they sat forward, their arms resting on their upper thighs.

Deciding that keeping that man waiting any longer couldn't result in anything good, you dared to make your left foot step forward. You didn't even get to finish it before Wonwoo's body was quickly in front of you, hiding your entire frame behind his shoulders.

You heard Shownu sigh. "Move, Jeon."

He shook his head in return as his hand moved behind his back, showing you his palm. You were unsure if it was an act of courtesy or if he wanted you to place yours in his palm, so you just continued standing still. One glance behind you let you know that the security men were just as unamused about you two being there as the owners of the club.

"She has nothing to do with this. I'm here-"

"You know the rules, Won." A different voice suddenly spoke up. The man on the left side of the couch decided to speak up, using a nickname you hadn't even heard coming from Mingyu. Ever.

Noticing his fingertips moving, you looked down and found them extended as if waiting for something to hold onto. You hesitated at first but once you saw him clearly indicating you to place your hand in his, you did as asked. With one swift but surprising move, you were pulled right next to him, almost making you gasp. Looking up to your right, the side profile of the CEO glanced at you. You could see him eyeing you from the corner of his eye as he nodded, hoping to assure you of whatever was to come next. Your head turned to Shownu, who just kept a smug smile on his lips, eyeing you up and down the entire time. As if your outfit wasn't uncomfortable enough for you already, you now wished to rip it off your body and hide your figure in the biggest, longest, and thickest robe the world had ever seen.

With each step you took closer to the bad guy in the situation, your heart let you know just how bad of an idea it actually was. You had already had to let go of Wonwoo's hand, which you noticed only freed you hesitantly, keeping a tight grip on you until the very last second. There was one more step up separating you and the other men. While it did feel like a good and protective barrier, even though it would most definitely be the last thing keeping them away from you, you didn't get to appreciate it for as long as you would've liked to as a hand reached out for you. Looking up, you were once again met with brown eyes radiating anything but comfort. They were just as dark as Wonwoo's but yet so different. You had never been afraid of the man behind you, not even for a second. Intimated, of course, for obvious reasons, but his eyes always wrapped a cloak of comfort and protection around you while the two eyes now in front of you were clearly telling your body to run. Run and hide. Don't get closer. But you were very well aware that that wasn't an option at that moment.

Your shaky hand lifted to meet his palm, helping you up to the podium where you were now alone with the three men. Shownu's rough hands found their way to your hips, freezing your body even though they were much warmer than expected. He turned you around to face the room.

Now you understood where his confidence came from. Standing up there, you clearly felt more elevated than everyone else in the room. Better than anybody that even dared to enter this hole of a hell.

With a deep breath, you hoped to shake off the frightening feeling of the unknown as you glanced at Wonwoo, hoping to find some form of stability through him. He had hidden his hands in his pocket, carefully analyzing each man on the left and right, quickly regretting not coming up with a secret code between the two of you. He should've seen this coming. He knew the moment you'd step foot into that club, he was gonna lose the hold on you at some point, but he had prayed it wouldn't actually happen.

"Are you ready to listen to me now?" His voice was laced with slight annoyance. Shownu's hands left your hips, giving you time to breathe freely, but only for a second before you felt his hot breath against your ear.

He extended one finger in Wonwoo's direction. "Let me enjoy this here first."

You wanted to lock eyes with the man standing only a few feet away from you, but he didn't even dare. He had broken a promise he made to himself, and he couldn't even look at you. As annoyed as you wanted to be, the lips by the side of your head were too distracting, followed by the calloused fingertips running over your collarbone.

"Now onto you, beautiful," he whispered, making you close your eyes as you prayed to whoever was up there to just make it stop. "What's your name?"

"Y/N." You shot out. Of course, you could've lied. You should've lied. You noticed it quickly by Wonwoo's reaction, but in a fight-or-flight situation, lying wasn't going to be your strength.

He hummed into your ear, that almost sounded like a groan. His fingers danced around your shoulders, coming to a halt at the straps of your outfit. You wanted to call it a dress, but it was barely that. With one move, Shownu was suddenly behind you, his lips now close to your neck.

"You know, you're wearing quite the outfit here." His fingers hooked underneath your strap, to which your body immediately reacted by straightening and lifting your shoulders to stop him from what you thought would probably come next. "A bit too much for my liking." Without a warning and unfazed by your reaction, he pulled the right strap down.

"Son, I swear to-" Wonwoo's harsh voice hit your ear. You saw him take one step forward but he was quickly stopped by your sudden gasp echoing through the room once you felt cold metal meeting your lower back. Before anyone could react, you heard guns reloading and quickly realised what was being held against your skin. You closed your eyes.

"You swear to God what, Jeon? Huh? Be smart now." Shownu didn't show any sign of remorse. He wasn't going to be the one the back down from this.

Wonwoo raised his hands in defence, eyeing the other men who had raised their guns to point them at him. "I came here to talk to you. I don't wanna start anything."

"Who is she?" The older man nodded at you. "To you."

A sigh came from the CEO. "My partner." His comment made you look at him.

Shownu suddenly laughing out loud caught you off guard. "Yeah, right." His rough fingers graced your jaw and down your neck. "You really think I'd believe you bringing your own bitch here?" He chuckled again and took back the metal against your back as he rounded you to stand to your right again. "I mean, I must give it to you. You played the part of protective boyfriend pretty fucking well, but I know you better than that, Jeon. You can't fool me." And just when you thought you were out of the line of fire, he raised the gun again, close, yet not touching, to your temple. Your breathing cut off immediately. Something in your body stopped you from crying because God, you just wanted to start weeping.

"Business partner," Wonwoo quickly told him. "We work together."

Shownu raised one eyebrow as he chuckled. "No shit." He lowered the gun again, letting you let out the breath you were holding. "What kind of business?"

"Not the business you're thinking of. I told you I'm out of that." The CEO explained. "I bought a company."

"I know that. You don't think I watch the news, idiot?" His question made Wonwoo almost roll his eyes, but he knew to hold himself back.

"She used to work there, now she's COO."

A silence fell over the room. Glancing to the side, you found Shownu, looking straight ahead, his eyebrows slightly scrunched as he turned to glare at you, a smirk forming on his lips as soon as your eyes met.

"Yoon Y/N." Hearing your name fall from his lips made you gulp.

"Wow," he laughed and directed his attention back to Wonwoo. "You took Sungho's company and his little princess? You are cold-hearted, Jeon." After a look up and down your body, he licked his lips. "He used to keep her so hidden, and you're out here, showing her off like the price that she is. I taught you well." Listening to them speak as if you weren't even in the room with them made you want to accept the offer of squeezing out the eyes of every man in the room.

"You didn't teach me shit." Wonwoo gained back the confidence he usually holds himself up with once no gun in the room was pointed at him or you again. He knew very well what he could and could not do in each situation, having studied the rival group for years. When no snarky remark came in response, he continued with a sigh. "Now are you finally ready to listen to me?"

By now, you had brought the strap of your outfit back up on your shoulder, hiding your body behind your crossed arms once again, hoping and praying to escape from this place as quickly as possible.

Shownu let a small laugh tumble from his lips. "You must be pretty damn desperate to come to me."

He didn't need an answer. It seemed like everyone in the room already knew. No one in their right mind would even dare to set foot in this building if not desperately needed.

Yet, Wonwoo gave in with a nod.

"That Park fucker, I swear to God," Shownu leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his fingers running through his hair.

After shooing every single person out of the room, he got situated back onto the couch, Wonwoo taking a seat to his right at the corner, where another member of Shownu's group had been sitting merely a few minutes ago. He brought you along to sit down next to him after making sure you were somewhat doing alright. Good to know he still cared after pretending a little too well that he didn't.

"You know him?" The CEO wondered, saying out loud what went through your mind as well.

After sharing the entire story of the break-in, and the lawsuit, followed by the evidence brought in by Sehun and finishing off with Jihoon expertly recommending the two of you to pay Monsta X a visit, Shownu seemed to know a little more than you expected.

The rival nodded. "The last time you were here-"

"We went over this-"

"Those were his men."

Wonwoo stopped. He wasn't expecting that to come out. "What? His men?" Getting a nod in return. With a loud sigh, he stood up. "And you thought it was us?! When it was him all along?! What the fuck was the interrogation for then?!"

"Sit back down before I put a bullet through your head," Shownu told him. The low calmness in his voice a little sending a wave of fright through your body.

But Wonwoo didn't budge. "Why didn't you say anything?" Lowering his voice as well.

"You could be working with him for all I know. You really wanna fight about that now?!"

"Just admit that you were in the wrong."

"You better shut your fucking mouth. I'm the only one that can help you right now." Now both men were standing, facing each other with heavy breaths. It made Wonwoo chuckle as he shook his head.

"You're pathetic." Walking around the seating space as Shownu sat back down.

"So, what do you need from me?"

"The security camera videos," the CEO answered him. "Give me that, and we're out."

The rival straightened his back. "You want to have security camera footage to bring it to court and reveal what's going on in my club. I think the fuck not. You can see yourself out." He got up and was quick on his feet as he stepped down from the slightly elevated part of the room, walking towards the door.

You had finally had enough, and just as Wonwoo was about to open his mouth, you beat him to it. "They won't know it's from here." Shownu stopped in his tracks, only to turn around with a smug smirk plastered on his face.

He raised an eyebrow. "So she can actually talk." Commenting on your choice to stay quiet for the night. While he seemed amused by your outburst, Wonwoo was anything but that and quickly took in his position from before, covering half of your frame with his.

"Your watermark on the cameras isn't your fucking logo, and we won't tell them where we got the footage from."

The rival redirected his attention, leaving you in the back once again. "And you expect me to believe you?" The older man crossed his arms in front of his chest, his feet wider apart to show dominance in the situation.

Wonwoo copied him, only hiding his hands in his pockets. "You want to watch him go down just as much as we do."

Shownu sighed out loud in clear annoyance, running a hand through his hair. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend. You're taking that stupid saying a bit too seriously, Jeon."

"Trust me, you're anything but my friend."

You were advised to wait outside of the security man's room at the very back of the hallway, suggesting that what they would find on each of those videos was anything but pleasant. What you thought of the way Wonwoo was handling bringing you into this scene was still undecided by you. On one hand, you were definitely thankful you were able to stay clear of witnessing anything you'd prefer to keep unseen, but on the other hand, you were in this shithole just as much as Wonwoo and him treating you like some fragile dove was almost humiliating. Yes, of course, you weren't all that big and strong as him and whatnot, and yes, you were definitely more scared of whoever these men here were than you'd like to admit, but being a little damsel in distress would feel a bit different, you thought.

Question after question kept running through your head as you walked along the walls of the cold hallway. The stones on the side made everything just look more and more like a dungeon, sending yet another chill down your spine. This used to be a place Wonwoo would visit frequently... most of his friends along with him... How much of this timeline in Wonwoo's life did you actually want to know about? He seemed to have put it behind him, but that's when you remembered one of your dad's sayings.

"Your past will forever be a part of you."

You were too young to understand what he meant and to this very day, you couldn't recall what the context of the moment was. But it stuck with you. And now it made you think. Every single thing that had happened with Wonwoo in the past 48 hours... what were you getting yourself into? Did you want to just let yourself fall into the arms of another man when you swore to yourself you wouldn't be doing that exact thing? And what man were you even trusting here? Back in the day, he was just the stupid douchebag, a rich kid of a CEO, then he became your boss, and now... now he was a man you found comfort in. A man you could trust... you... you tried to trust. But... he had secrets. Secrets that only now are making an appearance and God only knows, if everything with Chanyeol had never happened, how would your relationship with Wonwoo even have turned out? Would you still think of him as the annoying bachelor turned CEO or would be able to see the caring man he was behind this facade? The man who despised his father's wrongs and tried to do everything right again. You saw the way he acted around his mother, and it almost made your knees give in. It was a gentleness you had never seen before. It was so foreign to you, but it made you oh that much more jealous... why did it make you jealous? You hated to admit it, and Binna would slap you and tell you 'I told you so' but in your head, you were finally able to admit it. Jealous of a soft man's touch. Jealous of someone caring for you. Worrying about you. No gang member would act like that, right? You almost chuckled at the thought of Shownu treating a woman with respect. That was not a man with the possibility of having respect for anyone but himself. But Wonwoo... no, he wasn't like that. Maybe he had changed. Potentially, he had been similar to Shownu in the past... The mere thought of it made you want to throw up... But no, he told you himself, that he had promised himself to become everything his father hadn't been growing up. But after all, this kind of life had still been a part of him at some point. The dark side. The side where men would spend hours in clubs just like the Monbebe, touching, pulling, and groping women. The image of seeing him or any other of his friends in either one of these rooms behind those doors or upstairs, enjoying a drink by the bar, eyeing women up and down as they passed them, touching them, kissing them, taking th-

The door the two men had disappeared behind a few minutes ago opened, revealing the man that had been occupying your brain for the entirety of the time you had spent alone. The smoke from your brain overworking finally stopped, letting you take in a deep breath you didn't remember holding in. Too many thoughts for one night...

"You're okay?" Where the first words coming from him as he noticed the clear distance you had out between yourself and the door.

You nodded with a shaky smile in return. Before you could say anything, Shownu made an appearance behind the CEO, closing the door before you could even try to get a look inside.

"Are you ready to leave my club now?" He snapped at Wonwoo. Clearly, the two hadn't magically just become best friends behind closed doors.

Wonwoo turned around with a nod. "You won't see me here again."

"I'm counting on it." He leaned to the side slightly, sending a smirk your way. "You on the other hand, I would love to invite you someday again."

You couldn't even react as the CEO placed a hand on the older man's bigger chest. Their cold eyes met. "Over my dead body."

"I can make that happen." Shownu smiled, smacking the hand off of him.

Without another word, Wonwoo turned to you, taking a few steps forward to step in line with you, his hand finding a comforting place on your lower back.

"Come on, let's go," he whispered. "Let's get out of here."

"You got everything?" You wondered, surprising yourself with the steadiness of your voice after keeping quiet for so long.

He nodded. "Everything we need."

Before you could run up the stairs again, the sound of the older man's voice echoed through the hallway. "You better take Park down, Jeon."

Wonwoo said goodbye with a raised hand in return, before both of you finally made your way out.

After getting out of the club, the CEO had given you his jacket once again before you found Hongseok already waiting for you. With you not knowing what to do or say, and Wonwoo unsure of what was going on in your head, the car ride was spent in complete silence. Neither one of you wanted to even dare interrupt the quietness you shared, even though it was anything but comfortable. Good for you, that you were too lost in thought to notice him moving around in his seat almost nervously. You didn't even realise that Hongseok was driving you back to Wonwoo's place. At least not until you felt a tap on your shoulder, making you turn to the side, only to find Wonwoo waiting by the open door. His extended hand was waiting for you to reach out for it to help you out. You quietly thanked the driver before letting the CEO guide you into the building, into the elevator, and right into his apartment.

It was only then he dared to speak. "You want something to drink?"

You snapped back into reality. "Hm?"

He turned back around as he was just about to enter the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink?"

You shook your head slightly, "No, no, I'm good. I had enough wine last night."

Wonwoo couldn't help but hold back a chuckle. "I meant like water... or tea?"

"Oh. Ehm... yeah, okay," you nodded this time. Remembering, you still had your shoes on, you followed him into the kitchen, taking a seat on one of the barstools. That man had way too many places to sit and eat for a one-bedroom apartment.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Your head snapped up to look at him standing by the sink. You nodded. "Yeah..." Before bending down to release your feet from the confinement of those terrible high heels. Wonwoo watched your slight struggle, leaving the cups on the countertop as he rounded the kitchen island to bend down in front of you. You let your hands drop, already knowing where this was going. Your eyes analysed his fingers playing with the clasp on the leather strap.

"You know, it's okay if... you're a bit... unsure," he softly spoke, not losing focus on his task.

"Unsure?" You wondered.

"Does scarred sound better?" He looked up. The sight almost made you gasp. Just like all the other times when you had been in similar situations. Him... on his knees... in front of you... looking up at you with those dark eyes that looked so cold yet made you feel so warm.

You shook your head. "I'm not scared."

"Okay," he simply answered before letting both of your shoes fall to the floor. A soft moan of freedom tumbled from your lips.

"Thanks."

His fingers running up your feet slightly didn't go unnoticed by you, even though you think it should've gone by the way Wonwoo just simply stood back up and got back to making you your cup of tea.

"I'm not scared," you repeated, knowing that you mostly said it, trying to reassure yourself of the truth of the statement. "Maybe a little weirded out... but not scared."

He nodded again. "I understand. And I get it."

An important question was tickling the top of your tongue. One that you had been asking yourself ever since he disappeared with Shownu, leaving you alone with your thoughts in the hallway. They gave you too much time to think and now you were starting the question too many things you shouldn't even be thinking about. But you couldn't help it. You had to know.

"How-" As soon as the first word fell from your lips, you stopped yourself. Wonwoo's head shot in your direction, leaving the water to boil in the back. Seeing his eyes trained on you just made you forget about every worry you had before. This man couldn't possibly...

"Ask," he assured you, leaning on the counter as he watched you debate with yourself. He wanted you to ask. He almost needed you to.

You stuttered. "I... I don't know if I want to know." Your voice was suddenly quieter than before as you looked down at your hands that had started a thumb war.

"You deserve to know," he simply let you know.

"But..." you sighed out loud, almost in annoyance. Who were you annoyed at though? "Jesus... I just." You tried collecting your thoughts as well as you possibly could, but there was way too much going on and your brain didn't have nearly the capacity you needed it to have at that very moment. "I don't know what to think. I... It's just weird."

"I understand that." He continued to let you know, nodding along with you as his gentle voice reached you.

With a desperate sigh, you let your elbows rest on top of the counter, bringing your hands up to cover your face. You had to. "How involved were you in the Monbebe?"

He hummed, pushing himself off to stand straight again. "I wasn't one of those men sitting, drinking and pulling women down into their lap, if that's what you're thinking."

You nodded shyly, whispering almost to yourself. "That is what I was thinking..."

"I hate that club just as much as you do now," he sent you an almost sympathetic smile before turning back again to finish the tea. You noticed two cups next to each other.

"I don't know if that's possible," you chuckled, brushing over your arms that were still covered by his jacket.

He copied you. "You're right. You probably hate it just a little bit more than me, but trust me," he placed the cup for you right under your nose, "I didn't enjoy even a second I had to spend in there. Not back then, not today."

You nodded. Still hesitant about asking more questions, Wonwoo noticed your nervous frame, deciding to continue to avoid another uncomfortable silence washing over the two of you.

"Shownu's grandfather and mine started it all." The beginning of his story made you look up, watching him set down his own mug. "God knows what exactly happened between them but it all started with them. Then, our fathers took over, and the rivalry just continued. It started as a normal business rivalry, you know, just... stupid shit and jealousy over the success of the other one. But then..." He took a deep breath. "My father made some really stupid decisions, and it brought him to the darker side of that business. And before he knew it, Shownu's father lured him into helping him and... it all took a very bad turn from then on. The whole gang shit- I... it's stupid. But if you're born into it, you're born into it. There's not much you can do. So I had I was pretty much forced into continuing whatever my father had started, but... I really wanted to make it right more so. Shownu obviously had his doubts about that, and it wasn't easy to convince him, but somehow, don't ask how, I managed to do so."

"You," you interrupted him, "You don't have to tell me all of this."

"But you deserve to know," he answered. "I shouldn't have brought you there. It was a stupid idea on my side, and now you have to carry that with you for the rest of-"

"Hey," you stopped him gently. "It was my choice to go with you. I could've said no."

"Still," he shook your comment off.

"No." You didn't even let him continue. "We had to go through that and... now we did." You shared a moment of silence, looking into his eyes before opening your mouth again. "But... I gotta be honest... I don't know how much I want to know... about that part of... your past."

Wonwoo sighed, his gaze on the mug on the countertop. "I told you I want to be honest with you, and you deserve to know everything-"

"But I also told you that I trust you," you quickly added before he could take his thoughts much further, making him look up at you. "And I meant that." You shook your head. "I don't have to know everything about that... Jesus, I don't even want to, honestly. Not now, at least." Adding the last statement a bit quieter.

With a deep breath, Wonwoo decided to speak up after watching to stir your tea with the spoon he gave you. He thought carefully about each word he let out. "I think you might see me a bit differently after... what happened that last time there."

"The bloodbath?" You wondered, remembering the comments Shownu and him made within the first seconds of meeting him.

Wonwoo just nodded, taking a big gulp from his drink.

"I don't care," your simple answer surprised him as his eyes fell back on you again. "Don't tell me." You shrugged, "In Jihoon's office, I... I wanted you to tell me what the hell was going on because I was just... confused and... I guess scared. But now..." Another sigh fell from your lips, slightly shakier than before. "I just don't think I want to know." Because you were scared. You might not verbally admit it, but God... you didn't even want to imagine what could've happened back then.

"Okay," Wonwoo understood you. He couldn't have been more thankful to leave that story to tell at some point in the future. "Not today. Another time."

"Another time," you agreed with him, finally bringing up the now lukewarm mug to your lips, letting it trickle down your throat, sending a wash of comfort through your body.

The two of you started talking about the next steps including, getting the videos to Jihoon, him bringing every piece of evidence to the court, and what could further happen. Possible delays, future court dates, and how to deal with the situation at work. It almost felt a little too nice. Too... domestic. You seating on one of the barstools, him in the kitchen, moving around as he got himself a glass of water, getting you one as well even without asking you. All while talking about work.

Before the scene could feel too good for your own good, you snapped back.

"Okay," you sighed, moving around with your hands awkwardly, "I should... probably go home now." After bending down to snatch your shoes into your hands, you made your way over to the door.

Wonwoo straightened his back from his leaning position over the counter. "Yeah, sure," he followed you to the entrance, his right hand suspiciously in the pocket of his pants.

You turned around to say one last thing when the close proximity of his chest surprised you, making you forget what you were about to say as you just stared up into his eyes. He smirked at you before you felt his hand on your free one again, placing something in your palm before taking a small step back to let you look down. That damn key again.

"Won-" you started with a heavy breath, but the show of his palms stopped you.

"You're not taking a cab or public transport. Not in this outfit."

His comment made you look down. The 'dress'... right... But you also were still wearing his jacket, which you decided to shrug off to give back to him, already deciding that fighting about the car wasn't going to get you anywhere. His hands on your shoulders stopped your movements.

"You're also keeping the jacket on."

You sighed, "You're really not gonna let me make any decisions, huh?"

His gentle smile sent somewhat of a tingle to your heart, making you almost grin too. "Not after today, no." It wasn't a one-time thing and didn't have much to do with the events of that day- both of you knew that, neither one of you decided to comment on it.

His voice had suddenly become much lower, or maybe it had always been that low, but the closeness of his body let you register it more.

Understandingly, you nodded along. "Today was... long."

"And weird," he finished your thought, his gaze still down at you while you stood in front of him, feeling smaller than usual. In just a skimpy dress, some almost see-through tights, and his suit jacket, along with your shoes in one hand and his car keys in the other, you could've jumped straight out of the depths of his imagination.

"Yeah," you breathed out. He had definitely come closer. He wasn't THAT close before. Right?... Right?! The grip on your shoes tightened as your heartbeat surprised you by speeding up. God...

You should've already been out the door. Why on earth were you still standing in his apartment, barely ready to actually walk out. Your body knew why. Your heart knew why. But your brain decided to yet decline what was going on. Your breathing and stuttering ratted you out though.

You looked around frantically, running a hand through your hair as you suddenly created a bigger space between the two of you, not noticing the hand Wonwoo just dropped back to be by his side.

"I... I'm gonna go." Without waiting for another remark from his side, you turned around. You didn't get far though.

"Y/N," his voice struck you, immediately making you turn back to him. Your face screamed hope but dropped quickly as he continued. "I'm sorry." Wait. No. No no no. That wasn't supposed to happen. That's not what usually followed the call out of a name.

You scrunched your eyebrows, all hope and desperation gone, now replaced by pure confusion. "For what?"

With two big steps, he caught up with you, not wasting another second as he reached out, placed his hand on your neck and pulled you in, his lips meeting yours instantly. The sudden movement made you jolt in surprise, your full hands coming up to his chest to steady yourself.

You quickly fell into a matching rhythm, your lips moving against each other like butter. His fingers tightened on your neck, truly pulling you in as closely as he possibly could, getting a soft moan of you return. Kissing you wasn't enough, this man wanted to breathe you in. His free hand came up to get a hold of the shoes you were still holding onto. You let go, giving him the freedom to let them drop to the floor behind him. As soon as you could feel his lips distancing from yours, a whine dared to escape from you. He kept your noses close enough to touch.

"Stay," he whispered, his hot breath tickling your lips. Wonwoo didn't give you time to respond, smashing his lips back on yours. You continued to enjoy this moment, just moving along with him, breathing heavily as you felt his left hand come to your hips, travelling to your lower back. You had to let go.

"Wonwoo-"

"Please." He didn't let you finish. Pleading against your lips as you were close to distancing yourself from him. You let your eyes meet. Your eyebrows raised, scrunched in desperation, his just as usual low and unsaying of any of his emotions. But you could hear it in his voice. The slight shake. He wanted this. He needed this. Just as much as you did. Your breaths were already becoming one, your mouths begging to touch.

Fuck it.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down onto you. He let go of your neck, both of his hands immediately working on getting rid of the jacket that was still covering your body. And you let him. He undressed you hastily, throwing the anorak somewhere onto the floor - neither of you could care less. Before you could intertwine your hands behind his neck again, his hand found yours, taking back the key, only to make it join the jacket. A chuckle left your lips at his eagerness. Everything happened while your lips were still dancing with each other. Not fighting. Not moving. Dancing, as they fit like they were made for each other. You didn't want it to stop, convinced that it would have the same effect as holding your breath forever.

Wonwoo's hands travelled lower until they reached your ass and he crouched down before whispering into your mouth, "Jump." Letting you hop into his arms, his hands firmly on your behind to steady you. Your legs wrapped tightly around his hips, hoping to be as close to him as you possibly could. You let your fingers start to play with the hair on the back of his neck, tugging slightly, making him chuckle as he leaned back.

"Careful," he whispered before lowering you down onto his bed, his much wider frame covering yours, engulfing you in comfort as he just hovered above you.

Wonwoo didn't give you enough time to enjoy his lips on yours with the softness of his bed underneath before he moved onto your neck. His mouth started following your jawline, down to the side of your neck while your hands found a good place on his shoulders. You moaned out loud, not even caring about holding it back.

"We've been here once before, right?" His voice vibrated on your skin. He travelled back up to kiss your cheek, keeping his face at a distance to look you in the eyes as his fingers petted some strands of hairs out of your face. "But I'm planning on finishing it this time. Okay?"

In desperation, you nodded, hoping to get further and get his body back fully onto yours. "Please do," you whined, his hands exploring your still-covered body.

Wonwoo smirked down at you, "I got you, baby," giving you a quick peck, which you had hoped would turn into a continuation of before, but were let down when he let go again. "Let's get you out of this first." Rubbing the material of your dress. He stood back up on his two feet, getting a hold of your hand to pull you up with him. Before you had enough time to gaze at his face, taking in every inch of his perfectly sculpted facial structure, he turned you around softly. His lips immediately went back to his neck as his fingers looked for the zip he had closed up a few hours ago, getting a soft moan from you in return.

"You look so beautiful in this," he whispered against your skin, sending a chill down your spine. "But you have no idea how fucking hard it was to keep my hands off you the entire evening." With each word he spoke, the butterflies in your stomach grew wilder and wilder. You just wanted him to never stop.

Once the zip was all the way down, he let the fabric drop down your arms, and you let him. Why should you stop at this moment? As soon as the dress fell to the floor, you stepped out of it and were turned back to face Wonwoo. His hand came up to cradle your face.

"Do you remember how I said I wanted to do this right?" You only trusted yourself to nod, scared of what sound might leave your mouth if you dared to speak. He grinned, "Good." And his lips were back on yours. Swiftly, he also got rid of your bra before his hands went down on the side of your thighs, pulling you in and making you wrap your legs around him once again. He took the opportunity to kneel down onto the bed, getting both of you onto the mattress and making sure your head met a pillow. Just like before, his lips left yours yet again to trace a line down your neck, only now also following the natural line of your collarbone before going further down and down. He didn't stop until he reached your breasts, kissing the right side first, getting closer and closer to your nipple, waiting for your moans to get higher. That's when you started to feel his tongue just on the outline of your nipple, going around it in circles, making you lift your body up automatically. His grip on your hips tightened, pushing you down to lay you flat, making you unable to move, no matter how much your body was begging for friction.

Wonwoo moved onto your left side, his mouth leaving wet kisses all over your tits as his tongue tickled your skin. You had let your hands move on their own. They found Wonwoo's grasp as they tried to loosen his grasp to give you some more freedom to move around. No chance. That man wasn't gonna let go of you any time soon.

"Wonwoo," your breathy voice made him come up to your lips again, teasing you by hovering above you, only coming close enough that your lips could potentially touch if you just moved up less than an inch. He hummed, giving you the notice to continue talking. Easier said than done when he started to place kisses all over your face again until he reached your neck.

"Please," you continued to beg for more. He couldn't help but chuckle slightly.

"Why the rush, gorgeous?" If only he knew what all of those nicknames were doing to you. Well, he was about to find out.

Not giving you time to respond, he moved himself down your body, making sure to resume his trail of kisses down your entire body. As if it was his goal to have touched every bit of your skin with his lips - if only you knew that was his exact goal. Maybe not for just tonight, but as a life goal.

His skilled finger quickly made their way into the seam of your tights, pulling them down. Slowly. Gently. Painfully.

You groaned.

"Let me take my time with you," he whispered. You shuffled yourself up, your elbows steadying you as you looked down at him now pulling off the thin piece of clothing and throwing it onto the floor.

Your heavy breathing didn't stop. "You're teasing." It wasn't a question or a cry of desperation. Maybe just a bit... but it was also a simple fact.

Wonwoo smirked proudly, getting closer to you again, stopping right in front of your face. "Good." He gave you a quick peck. "Now you know what it's like having to stand next to you every goddamn day and not be able to touch you."

"Who says you can't?" Where the sudden boost in confidence came from, was a question to everyone involved.

His low chuckle sent a warm rush right down where you were begging for him the most. "Well, I am a gentleman after all." He got slightly closer, his breath now tickling your lips, continuing his tease. You were too focused on his mouth just barely touching yours, not noticing the hand he had let travel lower, diving right into your underwear. The tip of his finger grazed your clit, getting a quick shutter and deep moan in return. To silence you, Wonwoo was quick to break the tension, covering your mouth with his once again, his tongue brushing over your lips immediately too.

As if his kisses alone didn't already make you moan enough, his fingers that had started moving in circles on your clit made it hard for you to even concentrate on moving your lips along with his.

He pushed your body down again to lay flat on the mattress before diverting his attention back onto your skin. His free hand had gotten rid of your panties swiftly, giving him more freedom to pleasure you with his fingers alone.

God... his fucking fingers... so skillfully moving over your bundle of nerves before slowly daring to go even just a bit lower. You felt him smile against your neck as soon as he came in contact with the wetness of your hole already waiting for him. His finger tickled your entrance for a quick second before diving in, making you bite your lip, not letting the high-pitched moan escape fully. It was just that Wonwoo was having none of that.

Within a split of a second, his was right in front of you again, his fingers that had just been inside of you, now on your chin as his thumb pulled your lower lip free from your teeth. He lowered himself down to whisper into your ear.

"Don't you dare even try holding back a moan tonight."

With no warning, he slowly pushed his two fingers, still covered in your wetness up to your mouth. You opened up wide enough for them to fit, already knowing what he wanted.

"Let me hear you, beautiful," he encouraged you, kissing the side of your neck to get a reaction from you as you moaned on his fingers, licking them clean of your taste. Only a second later, he pulled them out again, drawing a line down your torso until he reached your tits, engulfing one in his grip as his upper body disappeared from your sight again.

It was only when you started to feel his mouth on your upper thighs that you knew where he was going. His free hand was already tapping your legs to open up, giving him access to your inner thigh. Even though this wasn't the first time you had Wonwoo in this position, it felt just like it did back then. Perfectly intoxicating. You couldn't get enough of his touch, his lips, or... just him.

Wonwoo was everything you told yourself to never fall for ever again. But here you were, underneath the man in question, letting your body react freely against his touch.

Even though you expected it, you couldn't help the loud moan to fall from your lips as soon as his mouth came into contact with your core. His tongue didn't waste a moment, immediately giving your clit all of the attention. He started circling it before using his entire mouth to suck, getting a follow-up of multiple heavy moans from you in return. Your fingers had started holding onto his hair desperately, almost pulling too hard, yet Wonwoo didn't budge. With one hand, he made sure to keep your hips as still as possible while his other one had joined his mouth by your pussy, his fingers teasing your entrance yet again. His lips occupied with sucking your soul out of your clit, and his fingers pushing inside of you made you jolt your hips up, only to get pushed down harshly again, not even a second later.

As much as you would've wanted to form words, letting him know just how good he was making you feel, you couldn't. No understandable word from the dictionary was able to form in your mouth. You were communicating in moans, groans and heavy breathing. And Wonwoo understood every single loud you were making. He was able to read you like his favourite book, remember you like his favourite lyrics and play you like an instrument he had been playing forever. Everything just fit... too perfectly.

The squelching sounds of his fingers moving in and out of you filled the room, entertaining the two of you like a song in the background. Mixed with your moans, Wonwoo's cock was already reacting to it. From the moment he had thrown you onto the bed, to be completely honest, if not as soon as he had seen you in that pathetic excuse of a dress.

He couldn't hide a smirk once he felt your walls starting to tighten around his fingers, only letting him know to keep on going. He had switched to tickling your clit with his tongue again, the tip of it going up and down, circling the bud before pressing flat against it. Anything to make you come undone right under his touch - his biggest accomplishment. The harsh tugging on his hair got a deep groan from him, vibrating against your pussy, sending the last wave of pleasure you needed to finally release on his fingers with a loud moan. You fought against his grip, lifting your hips into his mouth as your orgasm hit you. It didn't stop him from continuing, still moving his fingers, only slightly slower now, making sure that his lips were also gently sucking on your clit, focusing more on kissing it, making you jolt with each touch. You whined out loud, your legs tightening around his head. This was heaven. No need to question it. This must be it. No other possibilities.

"Fuck," your uneven breathing filled the room, your fingers still tangled in his hair as he kept his head down, working you through your high as you tried to push him back. "Wonwoo-" you cried out. "Please- God..."

With a smug grin on his lips, he raised his head, looking up at you still trying to catch your breath.

"You call that teasing?"

You had to chuckle, covering your face with one hand.

Wonwoo pushed himself up, coming back to face you, taking your hand in his to look you in the eyes.

"You did so well for me," he whispered against your lips. You didn't know how to react, so you just pulled him in closer by his collar. A kiss was answer enough. That's when you noticed something.

You pulled back. "How come you're still in your clothes while I'm naked underneath you?"

He smiled. "Well, ladies' first." His comment made your eyes roll. He chuckled. "But I'd be happy to change that." Diving back to continue kissing you with just as much passion as he did when he pulled you in back by the entrance door.

Your fingers got to work on the buttons of his dress shirt while he was occupied with getting his pants open and off. You got rid of his shirt, letting it drop onto the floor by your side. To get out of his pants, Wonwoo sat back, letting his underwear go as well. Before you went further, you let your eyes travel over his torso, taking in every single piece of art decorating his skin. His shoulder was covered in black and grey ink, going down his right arm, hugging his biceps. Oh, to run you tongue over each piece… You snapped back and quickly joined him, hopping onto his lap, before he even had the time to get on top of you again. You had been waiting way too long for this. Way longer than you'd like to admit.

He made sure to keep his hands on your ass, placing you comfortably on his lap, his erection high, slapped against his abdomen. You didn't need to look down to know how big he was. You knew. You remembered. Hell, you even dreamt of it after the times he had already fucked you. Don't tell Binna that.

With his lips back on yours, much more eager than before, you let one hand rest on his chest while the other had gone down, swiping over your still glistening cunt, wetting your palm before you grasped his cock. An immediate moan came from Wonwoo, his breath heavy in your mouth, groaning against each other as you felt him nudge his hips into your touch. You kept your hand on the upper half of his dick, your thumb brushing over the top, spreading the pre-cum all over the burning red tip. The chill going through his body didn't go unnoticed by you, making you smirk against his lips as his fingers dug deeper into your ass, making you throw your head back in pleasure. Your hand had started running up and down his entire erection, making him hide his face in your neck as he kissed it again, sucking harshly on one specific spot he remembered you reacting to the hardest. As if it was a competition, your hand movements became harder and sloppier while his kisses became much harsher. Both of you had forgotten about moaning, turning to groaning as it relieved much more of the pleasure.

Without a warning, Wonwoo slapped your hand away and lowered you closer to the mattress, his arm on your lower back to hold you up. His free hand grabbed the base of his cock, directing it towards your entrance as you held yourself up with your elbows. He teased you by circling your hole with the tip of his dick, just waiting to fill you up.

You threw your head back in desperation. "GOD, Wonwoo just put your cock inside of me, please." With a low chuckle, he followed your plead. You couldn't hold yourself up and let your back hit the mattress as both of his hands had found their way to your hips, holding onto them as he backed out and went straight in again. Just like with his fingers - painfully slow. The roughness of each vein that decorated his erection grazed your walls, only intensifying each thrust.

"Fuck," you heard him curse under his breath as he lowered his body, his mouth back on your right breast as his right hand played with your left nipple.

You moaned out loud. "Fuck, Wonwoo," trying to move your hips along with his rhythm.

He came back up, his hand now on your neck as he groaned right into your ear. "Jesus, you feel so good." His thumb was brushing against your cheek.

"Won-" your moan was interrupted by an uncontrollable whine you had to let out as he was suddenly going deeper, making you realise he hadn't put his full length inside of you up until you. "Please," you stuttered with heavy breaths, "Please make me come."

His hand left your neck, immediately going down to your clit, after dipping into your wetness, putting pressure on your little bundle of nerves.

You nudged your hips up, "FUck, yes." Crying out loud as he kissed your jawline. Listening to his moans so close to your ear, feeling his thrusts becoming more and more irregular, almost sloppy, made you all that more aroused, knowing how close he must be getting.

With another hit at your G-spot, you almost couldn't hold back anymore.

"Wonwoo, I'm gonna cum," you whined, getting his attention as he kissed you deeply.

"Come on, baby. I'm close too. Come on. Just like that," he encouraged you, keeping his rhythm as steady as he possibly could, which wasn't much. "Good girl." Sending a heavy rush of arousal right to your pussy.

With his fingers right on your clit, his breathing against your ear and just feeling his chest move against you, his cock hitting all the right places inside of you, you didn't dare to hold back, letting go right as it hit you. A loud cry tumbled from your lips, your head digging into the blanket and mattress underneath you. The tightness of your walls almost pushing his cock out of you as the pleasure rushed through your body.

Wonwoo pushed himself up, and with three last hard thrusts into you, you felt him fill you up just as you would have begged him to. The warmth of his seamen made another moan come from you. Your hands were quickly trying to find his that were once again on your hips - seemed like they had found their favourite place.

His movements had slowed down, now making sure to work you through your uneven breathing as you came down from your second orgasm.

For a good few minutes, he continued to rock the both of you back and forth comfortably, lowering himself down to cover your frame with his wide shoulders, kissing you deeply without having to ask him to. His fingers tangled in your hair to make sure he'd pull you in as close as possible while his hips stopped moving, only one last time as he pulled out, leaving you cold and empty on the bed.

With one last kiss on your cheek, and a quick whisper of, "Stay here," he disappeared into the bathroom. You laid still. You put your right hand right under your boobs, still trying to even out your breathing.

That's what's supposed to happen when someone calls your name out in such desperation.

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