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tobesobri · 3 years

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Traditions | 17.3k

a/n: it's been a while since I uploaded writing and for some reason I decided to sign up for this challenge and by some miracle actually managed to write something for it 🤯anyways, this is for the Valentine's Day Challenge by @1dffchallenges and it's honestly just a bit of fun, enemies to lovers little bit of angst and some smut! so i hope you enjoy! I'd always love to know your thoughts!! (also pls excuse any errors, I wrote this in a week with little editing lol)

prompt: doube date

dialogue: “So let me get this right. You want to hire me as your date for a Valentine’s Day Party?”

Pink and red were speckled throughout the entire office, whether it was a bouquet of chocolate roses, a banner of hearts, or stuffed bears residing next to bowls full of heart-shaped candies. Every employee’s section of the office had been filled to the brim with decorations as well. Pink and red ribbon taped carefully around the edges of their desktop computer, little store-bought balloons, also heart-shaped, grouped together and tied to desk chairs.

And Y/N, dressed in her typical all black outfit, rolled her eyes as she paced through the office toward the one section in the back that was immune to all things heart-shaped, pink, or stuffed.

She sat down at her desk with a loud sigh, her purse hitting the floor in its usual spot just before she slipped out of her jacket and draped it haphazardly between her back and the chair. It’d be wrinkled by the end of the day, but she didn’t care all that much, nor did she put much thought into the stains on her purse from leaving it on the floor. All she concerned herself with, after settling in, was getting straight to work… which was put on hiatus when she came face-to-face with both a pink and heart-shaped sticky note plastered onto the center of her computer screen.

Groaning, she ripped it off and moved to turn her computer on before she bothered to read whatever was written on the note. She considered three potential suspects while she pulled her keyboard down onto her desk and logged in. There was Kayla, who worked front reception and was one of the main culprits of all the Valentine’s decorations. A strong contender. It could’ve also been Ines or Carmen, her closest work friends whom Y/N knew both owned a pad of pink, heart-shaped sticky notes.

However, when she finally let her eyes fall to the note as her computer loaded up, the handwriting didn’t match any of the women she knew, and she was quite positive that none of them would have written was was sprawled out in black ink either.

Roses are red, violets are blue. I will fill your office with teddy bears and balloons, if you don’t send me your half of the proposal by two.

Harry.

She crumpled the note and tossed it into the bin under her desk. He could go fuck himself for all she cared. Sure, she was nearly done with her portion of the work and would be able to send it to him before then, but now that he’d pestered her about it, he’d be lucky if she even bothered to send it to him at all.

She didn’t doubt the promise, i.e. threat, he made on the note, but being surrounded by teddy bears and balloons would be worth making Harry’s life just a tad miserable.

After opening all the apps she’d need to get her work done, namely Photoshop and Illustrator, she connected her drawing tablet and set up the rest of her work station for the day, both on screen and off.

Harry had worked at the company for about two years longer than her and she’d started off as an intern while she was still in college and, after graduating, was hired as a permanent graphic designer. They had never really gotten along ever since Harry—jokingly—asked her to get him a coffee once… or twice. Unfortunately for her, though, they ended up working well together and their boss had stuck them both on the same projects ever since. Especially after the month-long project last spring that had been their most successful one to date.

While she came up with the design parts of client projects, Harry handled the more technical side of things and they’d never really argued much over each other’s work even though they clashed constantly at a more personal level.

“I see your feeling festive.” Just as she’d gotten into the groove of her typical morning and had forgotten all about Harry’s stupid note, his voice interrupted her entire thought process. So when she swiveled around to find him leaning into her little office space, it was hardly a surprise when she glared at him, even though he feigned offense at her bitterness.

“You got my note, I presume.” He let himself into her space anyway, holding a mug of steaming coffee she was sure he’d just made in the workroom, and leaned up against the opposite side of her desk that housed a much larger, digital drawing tablet for when she needed to do more intricate design pieces.

She just swiveled back around to face her computer again and went back to work as if he was no longer there. Pretending to ignore his existence proved to be quite difficult when the very particular woodsy, vanilla scents of his cologne met her nostrils and filled her entire office. Not to mention, the sight of what he’d been wearing singed the backs of her eyelids so that she still saw him every time she blinked. It was as if her brain refused to let her forget what he looked like in his white button-up, sleeves rolled to the crooks of his elbows, all tucked into his fitted black trousers that tended to get the imaginations going of all the women in the building.

Not her though, of course. She was better than that. Obviously.

He cleared his throat, still very much present in her space and still very much giving her a migraine. “So will it be ready by two?”

“Well, I planned to send it to you before lunch.” She tweaked the spacing between letters of a potential logo for the millionth time. “But now… I think I might need the rest of the day.”

She heard rustling behind her and knew he was shifting his weight impatiently and running a hand through his hair as he often did when he was… displeased. “I told you I’m leaving early tomorrow and I need it no later than two.”

She cocked her head to the side, still staring at her computer screen and not giving him an ounce of satisfaction. “Did you tell me that?” She teased, an amused smirk lifting the corners of her mouth when she heard him groan behind her. “I must’ve forgotten.” Shrugging, she went back to her work.

“Unlike you,” he snapped, “some of us actually have a love life and I’d appreciate you not fucking up mine.”

She froze then, only for a split second, when his words sank in. Two thoughts raced through her head. The first a string of curse words because of his assumption that she didn’t have a love life. But the more prominent and worrisome part of his statement was that he did have one. And that he was leaving early tomorrow—Valentine’s Day—so he could get ready for a date.

Throwing both her prickly exterior and heartbreaking smirk up again, she turned to face him. “I’ve known you for three years now and if anyone has the potential to fuck up your love life, it’s you.”

He narrowed his eyes at her and her gaze fell to the hand that seemed to wrap a bit tighter around his Bugs Bunny mug. His knuckles whitened and she met his heated stare again, pleased with herself for getting him riled up before he’d even finished his morning coffee.

“So,” she continued before he get get a word of retaliation out, and sat back against her chair, crossing her legs confidently as she folded her hands in her lap. “Who’s the poor girl you’ve tricked into going on a date with you this time?”

Harry had a terrible track record. The longest relationship he’d been in lasted for two months, and that was well before she’d known him. Everything else he had was just a one or two night thing and nothing more. Sure, it was all more than she had, but she preferred it that way. Harry seemed to resent the fact that he couldn’t keep a girlfriend to save his life.

“You don’t know her.”

Her smile widened. “How long have you been seeing her?”

“Couple weeks.”

“Ooh, that just might be your second longest relationship, Styles.”

“Well at least I’ve had one.”

His jab didn’t have an affect on her however, and he knew it wouldn’t because it never did. He knew she didn’t give a damn about relationships, or at least that’s what she claimed anyway. He couldn’t think of many twenty-four year old women who actually wanted to be alone. He actually couldn’t think of a mid-twenties anyone who wanted that.

“You’ll have to try harder than that.” She said nonchalantly, which irked him even more than he already was, and then swiveled away from him one last time, picking up her drawing pen and getting back to work.

“What’s your issue with relationships?” He went on and she knew he was headed right down a path intended to hurt her feelings just as much as she had his. So, she tensed slightly and braced for impact. “Is it a commitment thing? Or can you just not find anyone to put up with you for longer than five minutes?”

She let his words sink their teeth in and then smiled to herself. “Hm. Seeing as you’ve been in my office now for,” she checked the time at the top right-hand corner of her screen, “eight minutes, maybe we should date.” She lifted a brow, awaiting his next response.

It felt a bit like a cat-and-mouse chase bickering with Harry and since she was usually the cat, it brought her way too much pleasure fighting with him.

He scoffed. “Like I’d lower my standards for you.”

That one hurt, she had to admit. Not out loud or to Harry, but it still stung because it was true. He’d have to drop his standards to the floor to even consider dating her and she knew it.

“Maybe,” she began, still half focused on her work, and ignored his comment all together, “some of us like being alone.”

“Nobody likes that.” He responded quickly and she heard a shift of his weight again and then his voice once more a few moments later. “It’s nice to be by yourself sometimes, yeah, but you can’t tell me you don’t want someone to come home to at the end of the day.” He crossed one leg over the other as he gripped the edge of her desk for support and just when she thought he was done, he kept going, “Someone you can vent to about your annoying co-worker.”

She glanced at him through the little portable mirror hanging above her desk—mostly used to make sure she looked decent before meeting with clients or, sometimes, Harry—and saw the tight smile on his lips. Almost as if that’s what he wanted, like he was talking about himself and not her.

She’d slowed her progress down while he’d talked until she was no longer working at all. She no longer swiped her pen across the pad or had any idea what she was even doing when she focused solely on his words. Because, once again, whether he was talking about himself or about her, he was right.

“Yeah well,” she quickly hid herself back behind her wall and made her hands function properly again. “Some of us also don’t have the luxury of choosing whomever we want.”

She imagined him smirking at that one because, buried deep within her words was a compliment. That he was handsome enough to actually have anyone he wanted.

Instead, when she glanced at the mirror again and found him, there was the complete opposite of a smirk on his face, and as he stared down into his mug, clearly lost in thought, she wondered what the tightness in his jaw and the frown pulling on his lips meant.

She sighed and stole his attention away from his coffee. “I’ll have it to you before lunch. You can go now, unless you’d like to argue some more and slow me down by another…” she glanced at her clock again, adding up all the time he’d been standing in her office, “fifteen minutes.”

Without another word, she listened to the drag of his footsteps as he finally left her office space. And although she was glad to be rid of his distraction, the room felt so much bigger and so much colder and emptier without him in it. Shivering, she slipped back into her jacket and spent the next few hours doing nothing but staring straight ahead at her screen as she made final adjustments to her designs.

Any other conversations with Harry were had over email as he worked in his own respective office, messaging her with every little concern he had in order to get his work done efficiently so that he wasn’t stressing to finish it tomorrow before he had to leave. Even though Y/N considered not responding to him a few times, just to spite him and slow him down for her own amusement, she found herself feeling guilty after leaving him hanging a couple times. Sure, she hated Valentine’s Day and everything surrounding it, but she’d almost hate even more the idea of both her and Harry being miserable tomorrow, so she inevitably gave in and cooperated with him. She’d probably regret it when he came back on Thursday spreading around the office all the gory details of his date, but at least he wouldn’t also be in a shitty mood. Her days were both boring and slow whenever Harry wasn’t having a good day. And although she’d blame it all on selfish reasons, it did also make her sad to see him frowning around the office and sulking when all she wanted to do was bicker with him and make him smile again, even just a little bit. But it was easier leaving him to his own devices than risk him finding out she cared about him enough to not wish sadness upon him.

She couldn’t say the same for him. Harry probably relished in the days she came into the office in a sour mood. He probably celebrated and threw a party whenever she was upset, and, even so, it didn’t change how she felt about him.

The sun had long set and most of the office was gone by the time she finally called it quits and began packing up her things and giving her computer a rest for the night. There were still quiet murmurs from other workaholic employees, which comforting her knowing she wasn’t completely alone in the building, since the last time she’d done that, it took everything in her not to have a panic attack all the way to her car.

Even though her boss told her countless times not to stay past five o’clock, as he told every other female employee that worked for him that he didn’t wish to see attacked after sunset in the city. Of course, when she was the only one who didn’t listen to him, he hired more guards and one of them rounded the corner into her office space, ready to escort her all the way down to her car.

“Figured you were still here.” He leaned against the walls of her cubicle and watched as she startled, twisting to meet his eyes for a moment before she settled and returned to slipping her belongings into her purse.

“I don’t need you to escort me.” Zipping her purse, she rose from her chair, checking one last time across her desk to make sure she’d grabbed everything she needed to take home with her before turning to him as he still lingered in the opening of her little office.

William had been hired a couple months ago, and was only a year older than her, but even so he was more than a foot taller than her and his biceps were about as big as her head. While the entire office drooled over him, she tended to keep her eyes and her thoughts to herself.

“You say that every night you stay late. Just let me do my job and shut up about it.” He smirked at her and when her eyes met his again, sharply, glaring at him, she groaned and whirled past him toward the elevators. He followed swiftly behind, knowing she’d close the doors on him if he didn’t keep close enough pace with her, mostly because she’d done it before.

As he took his spot beside her and she pressed the button for the parking garage at the basement of the building, a familiar voice rang out through the office.

“Wait!” As if she wasn’t already annoyed enough with William’s presence, his stupidly large arm held the elevator doors open as Harry slipped inside a moment later.

“Thanks, mate.” Harry said exclusively to William as he caught his breath and stood wedged in the middle between the guard and Y/N, who was inching closer and closer into her corner to get away from Harry.

“You have any plans tomorrow?” Harry asked, his attention solely on William again while the elevator took off down through the levels of their building. Not fast enough for Y/N, of course.

William sighed, crossing his arms and trying to resist smiling. “Me and my girlfriend take turns surprising each other every year. And it’s her turn this year… so I guess I have plans, but I don’t know what they are.”

“Damn, way to make us feel incompetent.”

Y/N whirled her head to glare up at the side of Harry’s face. “Speak for yourself.” She warned.

Harry just ignored her though. “What did you guys do last year?”

Again, William stifled a grin. “I had been saving up for a while and took us both to Paris.”

“Shit.” Harry’s eyebrows rose and Y/N rolled her eyes away from him, watching the LED screen above the elevator doors as they neared the bottom levels of the building. She knew Harry and William had become friends, mostly because Harry was annoying and befriended everyone. Except her, of course. She heard his stupid voice again and wished she could just transport herself directly into the front seat of her car and be done with the both of them. “And now she has to do better than Paris.”

Y/N glanced around Harry just in time to see William smirk and she should have known what was about to come out of his mouth before it did. “Well, I don’t consider much better than her mouth ar—“

Y/N cut him off. “Ew! Are you serious?”

Both men eyed her curiously just as the elevator came to a stop and, with a ding, the doors opened. She flew toward them quickly.

“Y/N wait, I have to—“

Again, she cut him off, turning once she was out on solid ground. “I’ll be fine, besides trying to rid my mind of that image you just burned into it.” She turned on her heel and headed off toward her car.

William made a move toward her and Harry grabbed his arm, “I’ll walk her. Forgot she’s a bit of a prude.” They shared an amused look and Harry jogged out onto the concrete and asphalt until he reached her side.

“I heard that, you know… and I know for a fact your car is not parked in this direction.” She seethed and he just smiled to himself, happier than ever that she was in the mood to bicker with him, because he wasn’t quite in the mood to leave yet, where he’d have to wait till tomorrow morning at nine-thirty to see her again. And she wasn’t always the most talkative person on Valentine’s Day, either.

“Why are you the only female in our building not foaming at the mouth over him?” He asked instead, referring to William.

He heard her scoff. “Just because he’s attractive doesn’t mean I have to be interested… or want to hear about his girlfriend sucking his—“

“Cock?” Harry finished for her and within a second she spun around to face him, forcing him to stop in his tracks just inches from her now. His smirk only grew when he saw just how quickly he’d gotten her all flustered.

And then, as they started each other down, the hardness in her face softened and she drew out a breath, forcing his eyes to fall to her lips and his smirk to fall from his mouth. He thought back to last spring, when there were numerous late nights with her just like this one. When he went home and couldn’t stop thinking about…

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She asked and he blinked a couple times before he lifted his eyes.

“Like what?” He furrowed his brows, trying to track down all the resentment he had for her but he couldn’t find it anywhere anymore. He couldn’t summon it and say something that would save his ass from being caught looking at her like he wanted to kiss her.

Like he wanted to taste her and feel her against him, and hear what she sounded like when he tugged at her hair for more.

“Nevermind.” She shook her head, silencing the chaos going on in his brain. And then she turned, continuing the walk to her car with or without him, but, when she heard the echoing click of his shoes against the asphalt once more, she knew she wasn’t rid of him yet.

“I don’t suppose you’ll give me a ride back to my car, will you?” He easily stepped back into place beside her like nothing had happened.

She didn’t say anything for much longer than he was comfortable with. And then, finally, they reached her car and she sighed. “Get in before I change my mind.”

As she went for the driver’s side, he took quick steps to the opposite side, watching her over the top of her little Honda as she unlocked her door, and then, after clicking the button, his door as well. They both slipped in at the same time and while she fastened her seatbelt and settled in for her drive home, he sat perched with his backpack in his lap, knowing he’d be out of her car within only a couple minutes.

He still glanced around at his surroundings as she backed out of her parking space. “Should’ve guessed your car would be as neat as your desk.”

She didn’t say anything as she drove in the opposite direction of the exit toward the section of the garage Harry always parked in. It was closer to the elevators because he always came in before her and snagged a prime spot. She preferred an extra few minutes of sleep over walking an extra fifty steps.

And he started up again when she continued to not talk to him. “Most artists I know of are super messy.”

“I’m not an artist.” She gritted out through her teeth as she came to a stop once she spotted the rear-end of Harry’s BMW. Although she knew it well enough to distinguish it from the other black BMWs in the garage, it also helped that Harry had an old, faded license plate cover filled with a collage of cute pictures of puppies. He’d said it won him bonus points with women, but she also knew his screensaver at work was a picture of puppies as well, and no women he was interested in ever saw that.

He peeled his eyes off his car and looked over at her. “I know you can draw, too.”

She paused, gripping her steering wheel. She did enjoy both art and design and she knew Harry knew the difference between the two. She just didn’t know why he always insisted on bugging her about it.

“Yeah, well that doesn’t make me an artist.”

When he didn’t say anything, she glanced at him just in time to find him shrugging a shoulder like he was agreeing to disagree. Even if she couldn’t draw, he’d still consider her an artist because the things she managed to design always blew his mind and if that wasn’t art…

She rolled her eyes. “Are you going to get out, or do I have to drag you?”

He grinned, and it was almost as if her eyes refused to see anything else but his dimples and the bright whites of his teeth, and the birthmark to the side of his mouth…

“I’m going.” He assured, and yet he still hadn’t moved an inch. “Even though I’d love to see you try to drag me.” With her knuckles whitening on the steering wheel, he chuckled and unzipped the small pocket on the front of his backpack, withdrawing his keys as he finally swung her door open.

Once he was out, he gripped the top of the door and leaned back in to find her staring straight ahead. “Drive carefully, yeah? Would be quite tragic for your bitter ass to die on Valentine’s Day.”

She reached over and, despite having to brush her knuckles along the side of his thigh, grabbed the handle of the passenger door and yanked. His body remained in her way, however, and he was unfortunately a lot stronger than her.

Then she finally looked up at him, and those thoughts he had earlier surfaced again as much as he’d tried to bury them. This time though, he didn’t fight it as he glanced at her lips once more, then back at her eyes, which had widened slightly just before the dimples reappeared in his cheeks. “And I guess I would miss bickering with you every day.”

With that, he was gone and she retreated back to her seat as he shut the door for her. She had no idea what to think about what had just happened. Why he’d looked at her like that again. What that look even meant.

By the time she reached the freeway, she’d convinced herself she was just seeing things. Harry wasn’t looking at her in any other way he had before when he was intent on pestering her. But, as she took in the scent of him still lingering in the cabin, she allowed a small part of her to hope she was wrong.

Her eyes fell on the man down the hall from her door as she slipped her key into the lock, her brows furrowing as she watched him. It wasn’t unusual for their paths to cross, as they tended to get home around the same time, but it was quite odd to see him sitting on the floor outside his apartment, his head in his hands.

They’d said hi to each other a couple times in the mailroom, but she definitely didn’t know him well enough to go up and ask what his issue was or try to fix it for him. And after it was confirmed that he hadn’t, in fact, lost his keys, as they sat beside him on the floor along with his phone, she figured it best to leave him be.

Turning her key, she pulled her gaze from him and disappeared from the hallway.

The second she was inside her apartment, she felt all the weight lift right off her shoulders, especially when her cat came racing up, screaming at her from the floor while also coaxing her toward the kitchen to fill the food bowl. Whatever was going on with her neighbor still very much on her mind, she tried to focus instead on relaxing and getting both her and the screaming Pretzel some dinner.

She tried to remember his name as she heated up leftover pasta. She knew it started with an A, but her brain was coming up short. So, while Pretzel crunched on his food in his corner of the kitchen, she tried her hardest to remember.

And it was no question why she cared so much. Her neighbor was someone she was actually interested in, and she had been since she first saw him. Of course, she was never foolish enough to think he was into her, but she still let herself fantasize. He was tall, nearly black curly hair atop his head always in a state of disarray, and he had the most beautiful blue eyes she’d ever seen hidden behind his glasses. And, if she was being honest with herself, he was just a darker-haired version of Harry. Maybe that’s why she liked him.

The beeping of her microwave tore her thoughts from the dangerous path they’d been headed down. Harry’s voice rang in her head a moment later.

Like I’d lower my standards for you.

She’d needed to hear him say that, because sometimes her thoughts got carried away when it came to Harry and sometimes she did let herself be a fool who hoped. But after he’d said that one damning phrase, it was enough for her to stop. She didn’t meet a single one of his standards, inside or out.

Still, she tried her hardest not to go back out into the hall and make sure her neighbor was alright. Maybe he just needed someone to talk to and it wasn’t like she was doing anything important. Even if she didn’t have a dumb crush on him, as she did Harry, she still didn’t enjoy seeing him in the state he’d been in.

Before she could work up the nerve, however, a knock sounded through her quiet apartment.

She held her breath as she opened her door, really hoping it wasn’t the boy from across the hall, since she was still blanking on his name, but she couldn’t imagine anyone else knocking on her door this late into the evening.

So when she inevitably found him there, looking down at her through his annoyingly long lashes as she took in the horrible state he was in—red, inflamed eyes and hair that needed to see a brush rather than his hand—she completely lost her breath instead.

“Uh, sorry, I… saw you come in and I know we don’t talk and this is a weird thing for me to ask but…” He ran said hand through said messy hair and she found her breath again while looking up at him like she’d do whatever he’d asked just so he’d stop frowning.

He sighed, glancing down the hall toward his apartment and then met her curious and somewhat concerned gaze. “Can I come in?”

She recoiled. “Um… why?”

“Well, um, I was hoping you could help me with something and I’d rather not have the entire floor know about it.”

She was beyond confused now, but still, she stepped aside and let him pass, assuming that if he was actually a murderer he would have done her in a lot sooner than this. He had plenty of other opportunities. Plus, something in his face just… made her want to trust him.

She closed the door and turned to him, watching as his eyes scanned her kitchen and where her food still sat before he twisted around, eyes wide. “Shit, I’m sorry for interrupting.”

She shook her head. “It’s fine.” And after clearing her throat, she crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you, um… what do you need help with?”

He swallowed and she watched his Adam’s apple budge in his throat. “I don’t imagine you’ll like me very much after I ask but… I need a date.”

“What?” Again, she nearly flew out of her skin.

His eyes darted back and forth between hers, gauging her reactions and very obviously on the verge of seeing himself out and pretending this never happened. Instead, he stuffed away his pride and went on. “My ex… she, uh… well we broke up a few months ago and I saw her the other day and she’s seeing someone and we were talking and I… told her I was seeing someone too and so she invited me to go on this stupid double date with her… but the thing is… I’m not actually seeing anyone and I just told her that so she’d be jealous but she didn’t seem jealous at all and I don’t exactly have many friends to ask for help and I saw you and…” He rambled, but she managed to understand his predicament just fine.

“A double date? With your ex?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know either. She’s… she does weird shit but… I still want her back.”

Y/N’s heart ached in her chest. As much as she detested relationships, she was a sucker for other people’s relationships and she was definitely a sucker for her beautiful neighbor, even if he was asking to use her to make his ex-girlfriend jealous.

“Not that I’m saying yes but… when? And where?” She finally asked after thinking things over for a moment.

“Tomorrow night… I can pay you. I will pay you, I mean… but, seriously, you don’t have to do it I just thought I would ask.”

“Where is this date at?” She repeated when he didn’t answer that part of her question.

“At this party… and bef—“

She cut him off. “Okay so let me get this right. You want to hire me as your date to a Valentine’s Day party?”

He lifted a brow, “Well, there’s more… she wants to get dinner before going to the party.”

She shook her head, looking away, “I don’t really do Valentine’s Day…”

“You wouldn’t have to do much. I’ll pay for your dinner, too. Whatever you want. I just… really need your help and you’re my only option.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You realize I’m not exactly…” she waved at her face and his eyebrows screwed together in confusion. “I’m not easy on the eyes and I don’t think taking me will make anyone jealous.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, just stared at her incredulously. She shifted her weight nervously and he finally opened his mouth. “You don’t actually think that, do you?”

Her features scrunched up and she kept her eyes planted on the middle of his chest. And then he realized that she, in fact, did.

“I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have asked you to do this.” He also realized that using her to make his ex jealous would possibly hurt her more than it would help him and he could no longer fathom putting her through that. “I’ll figure it out. I’m sorry.” He moved to walk past her, back to his apartment but she stopped him before he got far.

“No… I’ll help you.” And then she realized his identity was still somewhat of a mystery to her. “This sounds even worse than what you just asked me to do, but… I completely forgot your name.”

He breathed out a laugh. “It’s Adam.”

She knew it had started with an A!

“Y/N.”

He smiled wider and nodded. “I know.” And then his face grew sad again. “I am really sorry I’m asking you to do this on Valentine’s Day, it’s definitely not my proudest moment.”

She waved him off. “I wasn’t going to do anything anyway. Just tell me what you need me to do.” She didn’t bother brining up the whole payment thing. She didn’t really care about being paid. He was nice, the only nice person she’d encountered in her apartment building and if getting him back together with his ex meant she’d never have to come home and see him in the fetal position on the floor again, she’d suffer through a date and a party on her least favorite holiday.

It was somehow even worse than it’d been yesterday. The decorations seemed to triple in size. Not an inch of the office was untouched by something pink and she prayed whoever had put up even more decorations had spared her little cubicle.

“Oh, hey, Y/N!” One of the receptionists most responsible for the overflowing decor, Kayla, called her over to her desk not even a minute after Y/N had arrived. And she stalked over until she saw the package Kayla pulled out that instantly lifted her spirits.

She stopped in front of Kayla’s desk and took the thin box from from her, already knowing what it was and thanking god for the timing so that her entire day wasn’t completely miserable. It was a new drawing pad she’d ordered, a bigger one that she hoped would be a bit more efficient to use than her current one.

Even with her back turned to the rest of the office, she sensed Harry’s presence long before he stopped beside her with his mug in hand.

He lifted a brow at the package in Y/N’s hands just as she reluctantly turned to look at him. “Getting gifts sent to the office? That’s a first.”

She rolled her eyes and stuffed the box under her arm, holding herself back from running off to her office to set it up. “Jealous?” She cocked her head.

And instead of his condescending smirk and a hateful response to go with it, the sparkle in his eyes seemed to fade as he eyed the box again, genuinely worried now that it was actually a gift from someone.

Before either could say anything, they all turned to find a delivery man walking up to Kayla with a giant bouquet of flowers in tow. And so it began. Although, when Kayla took the vase from the man eagerly, a bright smile on her face because Kayla loved love a little too much, Y/N couldn’t help but think about Adam. About how the only time she’d managed to get a date on Valentine’s Day was when it wasn’t even real. Instead, she’d stupidly agreed to help her cute neighbor win back his ex-girlfriend in exchange for a free dinner.

It was… pathetic. To say the least.

She felt Harry watching her, too, while she eyed the bouquet of flowers as they departed reception with Kayla and made their way to their recipient. As stupid as she found everything about the holiday, she couldn’t help but want someone to send her flowers. To give her anything for that matter. To have thought about her for at least a second of their day. Harry cleared his throat and she tore her eyes away.

“So… what’s in the box?”

“None of your business.” She rounded him, heading to her office, but he grabbed her free arm to stop her short and didn’t speak until she met his gaze again.

“Can we meet up in my office to finish the proposal? Think it’ll be easier to get it done than over email.”

She had every reason to be suspicious of him. They almost never worked in each other’s offices. When they did work together, which was often, it was in one of the empty conference rooms and it was usually at the beginning of the process when they needed the space to plan things out. The last time they’d really been in each other’s offices was last spring. Figuring he just wanted to get things done so he could be out of the office on time, she let it go.

“Give me fifteen minutes.”

He watched her walk away, watched her even as Kayla returned and noticed his gaze and giggled at him as she took her spot back behind her desk.

“It was something she ordered for herself, by the way.”

“What?” Harry whipped around again, not having even realized the other woman until now.

“I know you two pretend to hate each other but I see the way you look at her, Harry.” Kayla lifted a brow at him as she began typing on her keyboard.

He feigned disgust. “I’m seeing someone, you know.”

“Are you?”

“Yes.” He insisted. “I have a date. Tonight.”

She lifted her hands in surrender. “Okay… I’m just saying.”

“I don’t look at her.”

Kayla suppressed a smile and snorted instead. “If you say so. I guess you didn’t also sneak into her office this morning, either.”

“I think all these flowers and stuffed bears and heart-shaped things have gotten to your head.” He pointed around to the decor littering her desk while holding his mug steady.

Kayla met his eyes and her smile slipped off her face. “Harry, please don’t mess with her.”

His face screwed up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If you don’t like her then don’t lead her on.”

“I don’t think she’s capable of being led on.”

Kayla froze for a moment and then nodded. “You’re right.”

He wasn’t sure what she meant by that either. “Why are you being weird?”

“Because,” Kayla sighed, brushing her curled brunette hair onto one shoulder and then lowered the volume of her voice. “I happen to know she doesn’t think very highly of herself and I’d rather not see her get hurt, especially not by you.”

Now Harry froze. The hand that gripped his mug tightened and he didn’t even flinch as it began to burn his skin. He heard Y/N’s voice in his head then as he drowned out his surroundings.

Some of us don’t have the luxury of choosing whomever we want.

He had instantly regretted what he’d said to her yesterday when she’d told him that. And now hearing Kayla, in a way, confirm what he’d read between the lines of Y/N’s words… his chest tightened in quite possibly the worst way ever. He’d hated himself most of the day after telling her he’d never lower his standards for her and he could say he was just bickering all he wanted, but he knew now for certain she took it the wrong way. And he wished more than ever that he hadn’t said something so horrible to her, especially when it was the farthest thing from the truth.

And the real truth, that he was trying desperately to shove away with stupid remarks like that, was that he didn’t meet her standards. She wasn’t into relationships and he knew he wasn’t good enough to change her mind.

“How do you know that?” He finally asked.

“That Christmas party last year… she’s a really happy drunk until she’s not.”

He flinched. “Did she say something?”

“I don’t want to get into it, mostly because I don’t think she remembers and would probably kill me if I told you but… just leave her be.”

He hardened back up again. “She does’t have any interest in relationships anyway, ‘specially not with me.”

Kayla scoffed. “She’s a really good liar.”

Harry stood there for a few more moments, feeling as if his life had just gotten flipped upside down. He’d been in such a good mood mere minutes ago before his dumbass waltzed into reception all because he’d seen Y/N. Because, despite everything and despite the fact he was already attempting to date someone else, it was Y/N he wanted to be close to all the damn time. Groaning, he turned on his heel and left for his office, hoping she wasn’t there waiting for him so he could have a moment to himself to gather his thoughts.

In a hurry to open her package, Y/N slumped down into her chair tossing her purse on the ground at her feet and pulling out her box cutter in a rush of movements. She was so distracted, in fact, that she didn’t even notice the little stuffed frog, the box of chocolates and envelope sitting on the other side of her desk near her mouse. Instead, she unboxed her new tablet and began setting it up, not noticing the gifts until she went to turn on her computer. And then she froze.

With reluctant hands she grabbed the envelope first, her name printed on it in perfect cursive. She knew nobody in the office who had such good penmanship. Opening the card in hopes of finding out who had placed the items on her desk, instead, she just found it signed as ‘secret admirer.’ Rolling her eyes, she set the card down and realized it had to be from her boss. Sometimes he remembered to go around and give everyone little gifts on the holidays. Obviously he’d remembered this year.

She dug into the chocolates as she set up her tablet and began calibrating it to suit her needs before finally testing it out in the little bit of time she had before she needed to make her way to Harry’s office.

And once that time came, she left everything in its place, besides the box of chocolates, which she continued to pick at while she made her way through the room. What she didn’t notice while stuffing her face with candy was that… no one else had a stuffed frog or chocolates or a cheesy little card on their desks.

She rounded the corner into Harry’s office, which was a real office and not a cubicle that he usually shared with one other person who was thankfully out with clients for the day. She knocked on the doorframe to get his attention after just watching him focus on his screen for a moment. Harry was cute when he was focused.

But then he turned to her and his eyes fell to the box in her hand.

When he didn’t say anything, she held it out toward him. “Do you want some? I think Andrew was feeling generous this year.”

Harry’s eyes quickly panned up to hers and his brows furrowed as if she’d just punched him in the gut. And she couldn’t make out what that expression meant no matter how hard she tried.

“He didn’t give me anything.” Harry motioned around his desk.

“Maybe he doesn’t like you.” She shrugged, setting the chocolates down on his desk while she grabbed his office mate’s chair and pulled it up beside him.

Harry sighed, turning to his computer for a moment and then watching her from his peripheral while she picked out another piece of chocolate. “I didn’t see anyone else with chocolates on their desks this morning.”

Y/N just shrugged. “There was a frog too. And a card.”

“And why do you think he’d give you all of that and no one else?” Harry hoped she’d get the hint but he didn’t hope too hard. She was still Y/N after all. And he really didn’t mean to sound so bitter… well, okay, he did. But he knew she’d misplace his bitterness, crushing what little hope there was to bits.

“Maybe he likes me better than all the rest of you.”

Harry scoffed, shaking his head as he put his attention back on his screen.

“No one else in this office would give me a card signed as a secret admirer so… maybe I did something I don’t remember doing and he’s thanking me?” Now that she really thought about it, and if Harry was right… then it really didn’t make much sense. It’s not like she was Andrew’s favorite employee.

Harry just lifted a brow and then pretended to lose all interest.

Sensing the tension, she slipped the box closer to him. “Here. I think you need a knock-off Snickers if you expect me to work with your grumpy ass.” He made no move to indulge her, however. And so she went on, continuing to poke the bear. “Why are you in a lousy mood anyway? Isn’t this your favorite holiday? And you get to leave early.”

His eyes fell from his screen and he stared at the brick of sticky notes below his monitor before mumbling, “I’m sorry about what I said yesterday.”

Taken aback, she searched what she could see of his face for answers to what he was apologizing for. He’d said a few things she could imagine deserved an apology and yet, so did she. Maybe she should have been the one to apologize to him first.

“I didn’t mean to say what I did.” He finally turned to meet her face on. He’d hoped the frog and the chocolates would have been atonement enough, but considering she thought they were from their boss and not him, he just had to suck it up and actually say what he meant.

She shrugged. “It’s fine. I can be a prude sometimes.”

He searched her eyes for a moment and then shook his head, “No that’s not… I meant what I said earlier in your office… about lowering my standards. It was a stupid thing to say and not true in the slightest.”

But then she smiled and he grew confused. “Yes it is. It’s okay to have standards, you know.”

“I know that. But if we… I wouldn’t have to lower my standards. And it was cruel of me to have said that to you.”

She couldn’t stand looking at him any longer and averted her gaze, clearing her throat. “Well it doesn’t matter so… can we just get this proposal done?”

He’d wanted to spend how ever long it took to convince her that it did, in fact, matter, but Y/N was persistent, more so than him, and so he’d given in and they moved on to being productive with their time. And in less time than he’d anticipated their proposal was finished, being sent off to Andrew for approval before their presentation at the end of the week with their clients.

Harry sat back in his chair and she returned her own to the other desk where it belonged, all while he watched her.

“What do you do on Valentine’s Day?” He asked, just trying to get her to stay longer, knowing that if those were his true intentions, then he was fucked. That he wanted to be around Y/N, even though he was seeing someone else, albeit for just a week so far, even though she’d never want the same from him.

Maybe he was just as terrible with relationships as she claimed if he always chased after what he couldn’t have.

“That is also none of your business.” She grabbed her box of chocolates from his desk, his voice pinning her in place again though.

“Let me guess… it involves chocolate, your cat, and the most anti-romantic movies you can find?”

He would not think her very prudish if he knew what else she did on Valentine’s Day while alone in her apartment, but she figured it was best to keep that to herself. Instead, she smiled at him. “Something like that.”

He narrowed his eyes and threw his arms up behind his head as he laid back in his chair, watching her curiously like he was trying to figure her out. Meanwhile, she was trying to not make it obvious she was staring at his biceps as they just about bulged from underneath the sleeve of his pink button-up. He’d done it on purpose though, so as much as she tried to hide it, he still grinned with satisfaction when she became flustered.

“Well, have fun with that, then.” He nodded, and for a moment while she was lost in his eyes and growing embarrassingly hot, she wondered if he could read her mind. If he knew exactly what not-so-innocent things she did on Valentine’s Day. Then he brought his arms back down to rest his elbows on the edge of his desk, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers and watching as she rolled her eyes, held her chocolates close, and left his office.

Adam arrived right when he said he would at five-thirty. It had given her plenty of time to change out of her work clothes and into one of the few dresses she owned, to at least seem somewhat convincing that this was a real date. She also fixed her makeup and put on a pinkish-nude lipstick before switching out her bulky purse for a smaller crossbody.

When she opened the door to him, he most certainly did not disappoint. She almost let herself get lost in the delusion that it was a real date when she saw him dressed to the nines and cleaned up for the first time since she’d known him. And she especially got a little lost in it when he pulled a small bouquet of flowers from behind his back and handed them to her.

“You didn’t have to—“

“I know.” He gave her a once over when she wasn’t looking. “You didn’t have to do this for me either.”

She quietly accepted the flowers and let him in while she found a vase and filled it with water. He leaned on the counter, watching her as she did so.

“You look… beautiful, by the way.” He blurted out once she had cut and placed the stems into the vase. Her hands froze, though, and when he met her eyes, he knew he’d made a mistake.

“You’re paying me to make your ex-girlfriend jealous. Please don’t flatter me.”

“Sorry.” He muttered, although he was beginning to wonder if the bigger mistake was not taking her out on a proper date that had nothing to do with his ex.

She sighed and adjusted the strap of her purse. “Let’s go then.”

He went over all the final details on the Uber ride to the restaurant. Things about his ex he thought Y/N should know about. And he made sure she knew, for about the hundredth time, that she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to. And she reminded him for an equal amount of times that she never did anything she didn’t want to do. So, settling that, he helped her out of the back of the Uber when they arrived and opened the door to the restraint for her as well. Everything that she’d expect from a normal date, which only left her disappointed when she reminded herself it wasn’t.

She waited quietly, and tried to catch her nerves, while Adam talked to the hostess and gave her his ex’s name for the reservation. The place was packed and anyone who didn’t call ahead surely would not be getting a table tonight. She’d never been out on Valentine’s Day, though, so it was like stepping into a brand new world for her. And as she followed both the hostess and Adam, she paid more attention to all the couples enjoying their meals than anything else.

Except for when he reached back and grabbed her hand, entwining their fingers just before they came to a stop. She blinked her eyes at their hands for just a moment before he gently pulled her around next to him. And whatever way she’d felt about holding Adam’s hand went right out the window when she locked eyes with Harry.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

The last thing she expected to find, while Laura, the gorgeous blonde ex-girlfriend, stood to hug Adam, was Harry fucking Styles. And what a fucking coincidence it was, almost as if this was her karma for feeling the need to constantly help people.

Adam’s hand slipped from hers but she didn’t even notice it anyway. She and Harry still stared each other down and neither of them moved a muscle either. Well, besides the one in his jaw as it tightened. Then he did move, glancing over at Adam with a blank expression before landing his gaze back on her again. And then his eyes fell to the glass of water in front of him and she felt like she’d been released from chains he’d tied around her wrists.

“This is Y/N,” Adam’s hand went to the small of her back, guiding her forward to meet his ex-girlfriend and Harry’s current… whatever they were.

Laura held out her hand, her smile a little too forced. “Laura. It’s nice to meet you. Please, sit.” She ushered them to the table as she took her spot beside Harry again. Adam, of course, took the chair opposite Laura, which left Y/N in the one opposite Harry.

This would be a long, hellish night.

She couldn’t help but wonder what Harry was thinking. That maybe she’d come to crash his date. Or, even worse, that he’d already figured the whole thing out. That Adam was paying her to be here. She really hoped he’d never find out because it was just embarrassing enough to make her want to change her name and move across the country, thousands of miles away from him. Harry finding out that she couldn’t get a real date to save her life… beyond humiliating.

“This is Harry.” Laura motioned to him and he just barely lifted his gaze, nodding at Adam and ignoring Y/N entirely. “You know,” the blonde went on, glancing between Adam and Y/N, “I was a little shocked when you told me you were seeing someone again.”

Adam just shrugged.

“How did you guys meet?”

Y/N left all the talking to him. Mostly because she was still in shock that she was sitting across from Harry. And she hadn’t even taken the time to properly take him in and realized he’d also changed his clothes since work. Swapping his wardrobe out for a fitted black button-up, that wasn’t buttoned all the way to the top as his shirts normally were. The sleeves were already rolled to his elbows. He’d shaved off the scruff along his jaw as well and fixed his hair so that it was combed back out of his face, although a a couple rebellious strands hung down onto his forehead. He looked… like absolute perfection. And he was being forced to be on a date with the ex-boyfriend of the girl he was seeing and his annoying co-worker. She felt terrible for him.

“Oh, uh, well we live on the same floor.”

Laura nodded, clearly anticipating more. “Is that it?”

Y/N felt Adam tense up beside her and so she took over, easily spinning a lie. “I ran out of milk one night a few weeks ago. He’s the only one who answered the door.”

She noticed a flash of movement in her peripheral and turned to find Harry’s gaze on her again, one eyebrow lifted curiously. He was either wondering how she hid it so well, or trying to figure out what to ask in order to reveal their ploy. He never said anything, though.

“Sorry, um,” Laura’s tone changed as she glanced between Harry and Y/N, both of them looking away when the other girl interrupted. “Do you two know each other?”

Harry grinned, sitting back against his seat and folding his hands in his lap. “Something like that.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “We work together.”

“Really?” Although her tone said otherwise, Laura’s face said everything about how she felt upon hearing that bit of information.

Adam twisted his worrisome gaze to Y/N, but she ignored it. Harry, however, did not.

“Don’t worry, mate. I was under the impression she was celibate up until now.” With that, Y/N kicked him under the table and he sat forward to swallow the groan that very nearly left his lips after she’d jabbed him in the shin with the toe of her heels. “Guess she’s really good at hiding things, though.”

Adam just chuckled nervously and Y/N shot him an apologetic smile, trying to reassure him that this date would still work out despite Harry.

“What a small world.” Laura laughed, trying to break the tension but dinner hadn’t even started yet.

Sometime during the main course, Laura excused herself to the bathroom and Y/N almost, in a desperate attempt to flee both Adam and Harry, invited herself along. But she figured it’d be worse to be alone with Laura than with them. Laura might ask questions she wasn’t prepared for. So, she stayed put, as much as it pained her to do so.

“So, Adam, what do you do for a living?” Harry asked suddenly and she wanted to kick him again. Mostly because his tone was that of a jealous teenager and he’d waited until Laura was gone to pester her ex-boyfriend who most certainly did not deserve Harry’s pestering.

“Oh, uh, I’m an artist. I work for an animation studio at the moment but I’m trying to get into freelance.”

Harry’s eyes shot to the suspiciously quiet girl sitting across from him. “So is Y/N.”

Adam turned to look at her, but she just glared at Harry. “Oh, I didn’t know that.”

Harry titled his head as he narrowed his attention in on Adam again. “So you’ve known her for a few weeks and you never asked what she did?”

“Harry.” Y/N warned, trying to kick him under the table again but he dodged out of the way.

“Well… she said she was in graphic design… not art.” She had told him that, during their crash course yesterday while they got to know as much as they could about each other in a span of a couple hours.

“I think it’s the same thing.”

Adam just shrugged. “I guess. I don’t think I could be a designer, though. Most artists make what they think looks good, designers create things to appeal to customers.”

“Just ignore him.” Y/N advised and Harry was the one shooting her daggers and attempting to stomp his foot on top of hers under the table this time.

“You and Laura used to date then? She never told me how you split up.” Harry moved on.

Adam swallowed nervously. “She broke up with me.”

“Why?” Harry pushed and Y/N looked at him like she wanted to kill him, which he ignored.

“I, uh… I had a drug problem for a while. I was not the best person to be around sometimes. But after we broke up, she helped me with rehab and everything.”

“Guess that explains why you’re on such good terms.”

Now Y/N really wanted to do more than just kick him.

Adam grabbed Y/N’s hand under the table and pulled her straight from her violent thoughts about Harry. And he didn’t lace his fingers between hers, instead, it felt as if he had just been looking for something to ground himself with. And her hand resting on her lap was the closest thing he could find. It didn’t, however, go unnoticed by Harry and his jaw clenched as he stared at the point in the table where, just below, there their hands met almost as if he was trying to set everything on fire.

Laura returned shortly after that.

As promised, Adam paid the entirety of both his and Y/N’s bill, even though she attempted to snag it from him, seeing as the date had gone to shit and it was all her fault. Well… maybe it was also Harry’s fault a little bit too. But she definitely did nothing to make Laura jealous. Adam, on the other hand, did a great job at making Harry jealous just by existing and being Laura’s ex, whom she was still friends with.

The four of them stood outside on the curb awaiting their Uber after dinner was over, agreeing upon splitting one car to get to the party instead of taking two. Laura was apparently very cautious about fossil fuel consumption.

Y/N shivered as she stood between Adam and Laura, wishing she’d bright a jacket instead of relying on a long-sleeve dress to keep her warm. Then an arm wrapped around her shoulders and Adam pulled her close, running his hand up and down her arm to form heat. She tensed up, though, forming into an immovable brick. She had no idea the last time she’d been that close to another person, let alone a member of the opposite sex. When he felt her go rigid, he leaned down until his lips were at her ear. “Is this okay?”

She just nodded and tried to relax. Which turned out to be quite easy because Adam was warm and he smelled nice. She, of course, didn’t let her mind wander off too far. He was still in love with his ex. He’d still shove cash into her hand at the end of the night for her troubles and go on with his life.

Adam let go of her when the car pulled up and quickly went to the passenger door to confirm with the driver. Then he opened the back door for the three of them to climb in, Laura going first, then Harry, and, at last, Y/N, while Adam slipped into the front seat beside the driver.

While the car took off, Y/N was shoved into the corner when Harry moved closer to her in order to find both his and Laura’s seat buckles in the dark. Eventually, he settled back into the middle and gave her some space again. When she made no move to do the same as them, Harry turned to look down at her.

“Put your seatbelt on.” He whispered.

Her eyes whirled up to his. Wordlessly, and of course after rolling her eyes, she grabbed her seatbelt and he made room for her to buckle it in. Then she sat back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest while she stared out at the traffic through her window.

She would have stayed in that exact position the entire trip, too, if Harry’s knee didn’t insist on bumping into hers constantly. And she couldn’t tell if he was doing it on purpose or not.

When she glanced up at him, and found the corner of his lips curl upward, she figured it was, in fact, purposeful. So, with the hand closest to him as her arms were still crossed, she poked him in the side, right against his ribs, hoping it hurt.

“Ouch.” He whined, covering the spot with his hand dramatically. Everyone in the car glanced at Harry, all except for Y/N who snickered as she returned to staring out the window.

Harry wasn’t giving up, though. This time, with his arms crossed in his lap, and glancing at Laura to be sure she wasn’t watching, he walked his pointer and middle finger up the outside of Y/N’s thigh, close enough to her hip to make her squirm slightly when his touch tickled her. And as soon as he got her attention, he looked down at what he was doing and pressed his middle finger against her, meeting her gaze with a smirk.

In the same moment, the driver turned up the music in the car as they waited tirelessly at a red light. It was better than silence or listening to his passengers breathing. But Harry mentally thanked him and turned his attention back to Y/N, leaning into her slightly until his lips were at her ear and she shivered for an all new reason.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress before.” He whispered for her ears only. The music was especially loud in the back and he wasn’t sure Y/N had even heard him.

Especially since she didn’t respond right away. But how could she? Harry’s fingertips were still grazing her thigh, as if trying to emphasize the dress she had on. And his stupid knee was pressed right up against hers. She couldn’t think straight.

Though when she finally turned to him and whispered back, “Don’t get used to it,” he knew she had, in fact, heard him well enough.

He leaned again, “Afraid I already am.”

She hated that there were butterflies in her stomach. That he was saying such odd things to her when his date was sitting just on the other side of him. The date who most definitely met all Harry’s standards.

Huddling away from him, she stuck her eyes out the window and kept them there the rest of the trip.

It was just past eight when they arrived, a fifteen-minute trip up through the city taking half an hour due to all the Valentine’s Day traffic. Another reason she hated this holiday.

The party was being held by Laura’s best friend, who’s name Y/N did not care to commit to memory. In the elevator ride up to the penthouse, though, Harry stood close to Laura, his arm wrapped around her waist and Adam to Y/N, although he didn’t touch her. She wouldn’t have minded if he did, but she figured it was best to keep those boundaries in place anyway.

Pink and golden balloons littered the ceilings of the penthouse. The drink cups were also pink, as was the communal punch bowl that Y/N steered clear of, having no idea what was in it, or who had already spiked it. She knew nobody at the party besides who she’d come with, though she assumed both Adam and Harry were somewhat acquainted with Laura’s friends.

It was most definitely not someplace Y/N ever saw herself being at, not only because it was a Valentine’s themed party, but also because she wasn’t exactly comfortable around so many people. Especially when those people were all so unfamiliar to her.

“Here,” Adam handed her a drink and then grabbed one for himself. She downed the thing in one go, needing to take the edge off. It might’ve been a slight mistake when the alcohol burned the back of her throat, but she didn’t care too much when she grabbed another.

Then he was leading her into the dancing pit of bodies where they huddled close enough so that his lips were at her ear. “Is it alright if I touch you?”

She glanced over at where Laura and Harry had been left, finding both her hazel eyes and Harry’s green ones glued to the both of them. She wasn’t sure what Harry’s deal was, but this was her moment to fix things and make Laura jealous, so, turning back to Adam, she nodded.

He eased his hands onto her waist as they began swaying to the music. And then he pulled her closer, his hands slipping to the small of her back as her arms wrapped around his neck, being careful with her own movements even though she desperately wanted to sink her hands in his hair.

And, god, he smelled so good as her head rested in the crook of his neck. And he felt good, too, as he moved against her body. She knew it wasn’t real, and that the alcohol was making skewing her perception of things, but it was still nice. Nice to be held and to just let go for a change.

Over Adam’s shoulder, Y/N caught Harry’s eyes again. His jaw clenched and he looked the same as he did back at the restaurant. Angry. And then she realized that maybe she wasn’t really trying to make Laura jealous anymore at all, but rather Harry.

It was dumb, she knew that. He’d have to like her in order for her to make him jealous. But… the way he was looking at her. The way he had looked at her. His eyes lingering too long on her lips. What he’d done in the car ride here.

She heard Adam in her ear again. “I think it’s working. She just stormed off into the kitchen.” Then he pulled away and she realized she hadn’t even seen Laura. Just Harry. Harry and his stupid, obnoxious green eyes.

“You owe me more than just dinner.” Y/N teased but Adam grew serious.

“I know. And since you refuse to accept my money, I’ll have to figure out another way to repay you.” He smiled and then twirled her around so that she no longer had any line of sight toward Harry. He pulled her close again, one hand going to her waist while the other stayed locked to one of hers. “Suppose I could start with making your coworker just as jealous… although I think he already is.”

Confusion flooded her features as she peered up at him.

“Oh, come on! He was ready to rip my head off when he realized I’d grabbed your hand. And when I put my arm around you? I thought I might be better off just giving you my jacket and freezing to death instead.”

“I don’t…” she shook her head in disbelief. It was one thing for her to be pretending to make Harry jealous in some delusional hope that it’d work. But this… this was a whole other thing.

“I’m actually quite interested to see what he does if I kissed you.”

She was shocked at first and then, possibly due to the alcohol, just as interested. “Are you asking my permission?”

“Are you saying yes?”

Y/N hesitated. “Is she back?”

Adam’s eyes scanned the room and Y/N realized he hadn’t asked to kiss her for Laura’s sake at all.

“She is.” He finally announced.

Without any more second guessing, Y/N’s hand slipped to the back of his neck and pulled him in. As soon as their lips collided and she tasted the alcohol on him, she knew that she’d never agreed to this without it. Or maybe she would. Adam spun them back around again, deepening the kiss as her eyes opened and fell into the direction she’d last seen Harry.

He was still there.

Still watching.

His hands in fists. His jaw tightened into a crisp line. His nostrils flared. His eyes… sad.

She pulled away. Adam steadied her, grabbing her shoulders when she swayed. But, as she caught her breath, the dizziness went away.

“I’m going to find the bathroom.” She told him and after he nodded, she left, forming a rift for herself through the bodies that danced all around them until she was in the clear. Then she was avoiding Harry as she walked past him, not so sure his gaze was still set on her. Maybe she’d gone too far. She didn’t often just kiss people for no good reason and that’s exactly what she’d just done with Adam. She barely even knew him.

She didn’t exactly need the bathroom, just an open, empty and quiet place. And so, she fell back against a wall in the foyer and ran a hand through her hair.

“That was quite the show.”

She startled at the sound of his familiar voice and looked up just as he stopped a few feet away from her. “What are you talking about?”

He lifted a brow. “You expect me to believe that that you, anti everything to do with this holiday and with relationships and romance, are actually dating that guy?”

“Is it that hard to believe?” She crossed her arms, willing to go as far as she needed to before she let Harry see the truth. That she was that pathetic.

“Yes.” He didn’t even hesitate to respond and she flinched.

“Well, I’m sorry that you have a hard time believing that someone may actually like me.” She had no reason to nearly be shouting at him and no reason to be saying what she was because Adam didn’t like her.

“That’s not what I said. It’s hard for me to believe you just dropped all your ideas about relationships for some guy with obnoxious blue eyes.”

“I didn’t.”

“So then what is this?”

Y/N hesitated. Hating that the truth was about to boil over out of her mouth for him to see all the embarrassing bits of it, but she had no other way of convincing him. And it didn’t really help that Adam was so far out of her league that it wasn’t even convincing to begin with. Nor did she want to convince Harry of anything either. It was clear now that he hadn’t been jealous, he was just trying to figure out when she stopped hating relationships so much.

And the truth of that was she never really hated them. It was just easier telling herself she didn’t want it than admitting no one ever actually wanted her.

She trembled, not even sure why, but he was making her incredibly nervous, so much that she wished she could rewind and stay squished next to him in the back of the car forever. Being that close to him... his stupid fingers on her thigh, whispering things in her ear that made her head spin. She’d much prefer that than standing in front of him now, seeing every ounce of judgment he was about to throw her way.

“What do you want me to say, Harry?” She shrugged and dropped her eyes to the white marble floors between them, focusing on calming her anxiety while she was no longer looking at him. “He needed a date and I felt bad for him.”

“What does that mean?”

Letting her head fall back against the wall, she stared up at the ceiling this time as her eyes burned with embarrassment. “He paid me to be his date so his ex-girlfriend didn’t find out he wasn’t actually seeing anyone. That’s what it means.”

Harry didn’t say anything.

“So, yeah.” She folded her arms, looking down at the floor again, still unable to meet Harry’s eyes and see the look that would be on his face. A smirk of amusement at her expense. Even probably his dimples, taunting her and turning her into the joke she already was. “You were right. I can’t find anyone to tolerate me, which is why I’m on this stupid date that isn’t even real.”

“Him kissing you seemed quite real to me.”

There was more exasperation than humor to her laugh. “It wasn’t.”

Harry seemed to finally understand. “He’s trying to make Laura jealous.”

Y/N just nodded. “I promise I didn’t know you were going to be there, that he was trying to get her back from you.”

“You still kissed him though.”

She couldn’t argue that, nor could she tell him the real reason she’d agreed to the kiss. That it wasn’t exactly Laura she was trying to make jealous. She’d never live that one down, if she ever managed to live any other aspect of this night down.

When she didn’t say anything, he stepped closer. “Why did you kiss him?”

“I’m sorry, Harry I just... I don’t know.”

He shook his head and took another step, making her eyes widen when he was close enough that she had to crane her head back to meet his gaze. “Seemed like you were trying to make me jealous.”

She swallowed, not exactly in the position to laugh it off and argue with him when he was this close and all she could feel were the traces of his fingertips on her thigh. Her voice was quiet when it finally came out. “Making you jealous would mean I assumed you liked me in the first place... which I’m definitely not stupid enough to assume.”

A crease formed between his brow and his stupidly perfect jaw hardened as if he was biting his tongue from saying something. And fuck him for choosing then to finally stop opening his mouth.

Just then, a pair of drunk guys, one on the other’s back, came racing through the foyer, screaming at the top of their lungs while a few others followed quickly after them. It was enough to force Harry away from Y/N again, enough for the both of them to step out of the little bubble they’d been in together the past ten minutes.

Once they were alone again, their eyes gravitated toward each other and just when she thought Harry might say something after all, he flipped around on his heel and left. And she watched as he turned the corner and mixed back into the party.

After a few moments to gather herself, she followed him, not exactly sure what she was going to do now that Harry wouldn’t talk to her and it felt weird being with Adam while Harry knew everything. But, whatever plans to keep herself occupied no longer matted when she spotted Laura.

Making out with Adam in the middle of the room.

Without even thinking, she turned to locate Harry and he might as well have been a source of gravity because her eyes fell right to him within a second. And he was watching them too. He knew.

He met Y/N’s eyes and she wasn’t quite sure if he was upset or not. She couldn’t really read anything on his face, and stopped attempting to when he moved towards her and she had other things on her mind, like where he was going and if he was going to bother taking her with him.

Shortly after he stormed past Y/N she made sure he wasn’t going to leave her behind and chased after him. She didn’t know Adam very well and definitely not Laura to want to stay with them. And everyone else in the room were complete strangers to her. Adam had promised he’d take her home, but he probably hadn’t expected to be making out with his ex by the end of the night, either.

Harry didn’t say anything, not even when they’d reached the foyer and Y/N asked where he was going. He just located his jacket and slipped it on before making his way out the front door.

And right when she thought he really was going to leave her behind, since she was the reason he’d just lost Laura to her ex, he held the door open and glanced over his shoulder at her while she still stood on the other side of the threshold.

“Are you staying?”

Without a word, she sprung into motion and trailed right behind him into the hallway like a lost puppy, letting the door shut behind her that cut them off from the music as it faded into the background behind them.

It was a silent trip down the elevator, mostly because she had no idea what to say that would sound sincere and he didn’t say anything at all. At least not until she followed him through the lobby until he stopped on the curb just outside the main doors.

She took up the spot next to him, eyes glued to the side of his face as he took in a deep breath of fresh air, or at least as fresh as traffic allowed it to be.

Then he spoke, and it seemed like the first time she’d heard his voice all night. “I’m the one who gave you the chocolates and the frog.”

She narrowed her eyes, both not exactly sure why he’d just said that or if he was even being serious. “What?”

He looked down at her. “It wasn’t Andrew, it was me.”

“Why?” She breathed and while she was positive she’d be freezing cold soon, the fresh air after being surrounded by so many people felt good. It felt freeing and she wondered if he felt that way too.

His eyes scanned hers before he looked away. “Well partly to apologize for what I said.”

“What’s the other part?”

Sighing, he turned his entire body to face her now. “Something else entirely…” He trailed off, only confusing her more as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and stared at his feet. “I didn’t tell you because I know you don’t like all this stuff, but seeing you with him tonight... I wish I had.”

“It’s not that big of a deal. It’s just a frog.”

He shook his head, grinning. “It’s not just a frog, Y/N... because the thing is,” he paused to catch his breath, “I’ve been in love with you for... a really long time… since last spring. But with you being the way that you are, I never thought you’d feel the same way.”

She opened her mouth and then closed it.

“And then you come in with that guy and...” He pulled his fingers through his hair. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more jealous in my life... because all this time I thought you weren’t interested in relationships, but you just weren’t interested in me.”

Inhaling, she summoned every ounce of courage she could fathom. “You were right about why I kissed Adam.” He lifted a brow, waiting for her elaboration which never came. “You were right about other things, too. I wish I had someone to come home to almost every single night I got to bed alone. No one—“ She cut herself off, trembling again as tears stung her eyes. “I pretend not to be interested so I can ignore the fact that no one’s ever wanted me.”

“That’s not true.” He had that same look on his face as before, when she’d told him she wasn’t stupid enough to think he liked her.

She just nodded. “And I’m sorry but... why would you want me when you could have someone like Laura?”

“Y/N...” He huffed and stepped closer to her, the heat from his body making her shiver. “This is not the first time I started seeing someone to get over you... in fact, all my relationships since I met you have been shit.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Well you’re very anti-relationships so I think I was justified in wanting to avoid you rejecting me… especially since we work together and it would have been really awkward.”

“I don’t, uh... I...” She stammered, not really sure what to say to him even though her heart was screaming at her in full volume.

He held his breath and then, in almost a whisper, “Is this the inevitable rejection?”

“No.” She didn’t even hesitate that time and at this point, her mind no longer controlled the words coming out of her mouth as she let another organ finally speak for itself. “No, I liked you the second I saw you, Harry... and at no point tonight was I ever trying to make Laura jealous.”

The corners of his mouth began to curl into a smile. “That was very cruel of you to do to me.”

“I didn’t think you liked me at all twenty minutes ago, Harry.”

“Twenty minutes ago,” he fully invaded all of her space now, leaving the smallest gap between their bodies as he could get away with, lifting his hand to her jaw and rubbing his thumb over her cheek. “I was still on this date with the wrong person.”

“I think the date is over now.”

“No,” his eyes fell to her lips just like they had before. “It’s not.”

“You’re looking at me like that again.” She mumbled, out of breath.

He lifted a brow and didn’t once remove his eyes from her lips. “Like what?”

“Like…” she trailed off, not having the courage to say it in case she wasn’t right.

“Like I’ve wanted to kiss you for a very long time and I’m tired of pretending?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

He grinned, both of his dimples making an appearance just before he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. And once her brain realized what was happening, she sunk right into him, letting his arm wrap around her waist as his other hand tangled its way into her hair to bring her closer. She threw her arms over his shoulders and he hunched lower to meet her. She staggered back a step when he did, nearly losing her balance but he caught her instantly and then drew his lips back as he laughed.

“This is not how I expected tonight to end.” She couldn’t help but think the way he struggled to catch his breath was possibly the hottest he’d ever been. Not to mention the tiny bit of her lipstick smeared on his face. She could look at him just the way he was right there and then for days and be perfectly satisfied.

“It doesn’t have to end yet.” She fully blamed her sudden burst of confidence on the cold, but refreshing February night. And maybe she also just wanted to get out of it before it caught up to her and she would, yet again, regret not having a jacket.

“Oh?” She wanted to smack the mischievous smirk off his face and leave him there on the curb. “And here I thought you were a prude.”

“You thought a lot of things about me that weren’t true, Harry.”

He thought about that for a moment and after realizing she was right, he then wondered just how wrong he was when he’d called her celibate. “I suppose… I’d quite like to find out just how wrong I was.” He slipped a loose strand of her hair back behind her ear, which is where his lips ended up as he whispered softly, “And I’d also quite like to show you just how wrong you were about me not liking you.”

They stumbled into her bedroom in the dark, Pretzel racing out between their twisted feet in a hurry, screeching at them in the process. Harry giggled against her lips, “Your cat sounds friendly.”

“Well, since I was supposed to be spending tonight with her, and chocolate, and anti-romantic movies…” She pulled away from him, watching as his smile spread further. Maybe she could actually believe he’d been in love all this time.

“Right… I’d be upset too.”

She shook her head and kissed him again, then pulled back a second later. “You know that’s not actually what I do on Valentine’s Day.”

He lifted a brow and waited for her to explain but she didn’t.

“And what is it that you do, then?” He finally asked, curiosity getting the best of him, although he had some inkling as to what she was talking about.

Her smile was devoid of innocence as her hands fell to his belt. Harry’s shirt had already been lost to the kitchen floor. Her dress hardly covering what it was supposed to once Harry had gotten his hands on it.

“Maybe you’ll get to find out.”

When she brought her lips back to his, after undoing the buckle just under his navel, he spun them around and led her backwards to the bed. He wasn’t sure how far it was, but hoped he was headed in the right direction. And because of that, when her knees did finally bend over the mattress, he practically came flying down on top of her.

She squirmed out from under him, crawling back towards the pillows as she watched him at the end of the bed while he stood and removed his belt completely, trying not to drool at the sight of him. At the sight of Harry, her fucking annoying ass, perfect, beautiful, coworker standing shirtless at the end of her bed where he was also about to be…

He pushed his trousers down off his hips and they fell to the floor with ease, almost with the same amount of ease that her eyes fell to the tight boxer-briefs he wore underneath. She swallowed as he adjusted the waistband back into place, quite certain that, even in the low light, her eyes were not deceiving her.

The bed shifted at her feet as he joined her, and then it took all her willpower to not fling herself at him as he crawled up the length of her. As he settled himself between her thighs and she felt every last, very hard, inch of him pressed against her. She couldn’t be blamed for the whining moan that she let out in his ear as his lips became familiar with the shape and taste of her neck. She also couldn’t be blamed when her hips instinctively collided with his.

He just giggled again and shook his head, the loose strands of his curls tickling her forehead. “Easy now.” He warned in a hushed mumble, his lips vibrating right against the vein in her neck that pulsed so much faster the more his free hand began to wander up underneath her dress.

He left her speechless for multiple reasons, but the main one was when she felt his fingers tracing down her thigh and then, moments later, after he shifted his weight and used his knees to keep her legs open, she sucked in a breath of air as she felt him pressed against her clit, forcing her nails to dig into his back but he didn’t seem to mind.

Coming back down to kiss her, he began moving his hand in expert little circles, grinning against her mouth every time her body begged him for more. It wasn’t long that he complied, either, when he sat back on his knees between her legs and tugged her underwear off for good, throwing it to the depths of her bedroom floor. He wouldn’t have known where they landed even if he tried because his gaze belong to her only as he lowered himself to his elbows before her, kissing his way up her thighs until he reached her center.

When she squirmed away from him, he wrapped his arms around her thighs and pressed his hands into her hips after gently moving her dress out of the way.

“You know when we used to stay late at the office working?” He asked suddenly and the heat of his voice against her made her squirm again, but he held on tight. “And you would get sick of sitting in an office chair and made me promise not to tell Jim when you sat on his desk instead?” She had no clue where he was going with it, but still, she nodded. “Every single time I turned to look at you, I thought about doing this.” Before she could get words out or even a coherent thought, she felt his tongue on her. And this time when she jerked against him, she nearly slipped out of his hold until he grabbed her again and pulled her back down, digging himself further into her as she struggled to breathe properly.

She dug her fingers into his hair when he brought her close to the edge and showed no mercy. And somehow, she’d managed to get the sole of her foot up onto his shoulder in order to kick him away, but it didn’t matter much because he never budged. Not that she wanted him to, but he just felt so good…

“Harry!” She shouted, pulling at his hair and making matters worse for herself when he moaned against her sensitive bundle of nerves. He let her come, never once lifting his mouth from her even as her hips jerked off the mattress and she very nearly pulled his hair out. When she stopped screaming, her voice caught in her throat because she was lost to her own orgasm, is when he lifted his mouth, replaced it with his fingers and watched her as she came down. As her eyes fluttered shut and her chest heaved, her lungs struggling to get oxygen back into her system. Her hold on him loosened as she came undone around him, melting into his hands it seemed like.

And when he began rubbing his index and middle finger into her, once she was far and beyond overstimulated, and he knew that, she reached down with a whine and grabbed his wrist with what little strength she had in her and pulled him away. His hand fell to the other side of her hip, which he used to his advantage to pull himself up over her again, his other hand taking her dress with it until he was able to tug it over her head and toss it. Then he came back down to kiss her, letting her taste herself on her lips. He rubbed his thumb across her cheek and when he pulled away, found her looking at him finally. Although it was with heavy lids as she still struggled to regain her bearings.

Before they could get much further, a loud crashing sound from the other room made both of them nearly jump out of their skin. She shot up instantly, grabbing hold of Harry’s bicep before moving him out of the way and sliding off the edge of the bed.

“It’s just the cat.” Harry would have probably said the same thing even if it was not just the cat, he’d say anything just to get her to stay with him.

“I know but it sounded like…” her voice trailed off as her feet hit the floor and the moment she went to stand on her own two legs, her knees buckled. He reached to grab her waist but she righted herself before he could. She didn’t see the way he hid his cheeky smirk at the fact that he’d been so good, she was still dizzy.

“You good?” He asked as she stumbled her way into a shirt. With only a groan in response, and what he was sure was her middle finger, she left him alone in her bed to investigate the noise. Sighing, he laid on his back and got comfortable amongst her pillows. And after about three minutes, decided to locate the remote to her TV to entertain himself.

He flipped onto his side and felt around her bedside table, but his fingers never landed on anything remote-like. So, frustrated, he reached up and switched the lamp on. Again, he found nothing. Looking further, he realized the table had a drawer and so he pulled it open in hopes of finding the damned remote before she got back.

But what he found instead was so much better than turning on late night news.

“Fucking cat knocked over my vase.” Y/N was back within ten minutes. Harry had left the light on, but made sure it wasn’t obvious he’d gone snooping into her drawer, at least not yet anyway. She crawled back into bed beside him and it was then he noticed the bandage on her thumb.

“Are you alright?” He forgot all about what he planned to tease her with when he gently grabbed her hand to inspect the damage.

“Yeah. I was in a bit of hurry trying to clean up the glass…”

Harry rolled his eyes and dropped her hand. “I would have come help you.”

She just smiled up at him as he fit his arm around her shoulders, his bicep under her neck. “That’s alright.”

He shrugged. “It was for the best anyways that I didn’t.” When he smirked, she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him.

“And why’s that?”

She followed his other hand as he reached for something and then, moments later, it reappeared with a very familiar pink object clutched in his grasp. “Because then I wouldn’t have found this.”

Her first reaction was to pry it from his snooping fingers, but when she reached across him to grab it, he way too easily held her back and, at the same time, held it far out of her reach.

“So this is what you do on Valentine’s Day, then?” He flicked his wrist back and forth, waving her vibrator in the air as he taunted her.

“If you don’t give that back to me,” she reached for it again to no prevail, “you won’t be doing anything, least of all, me.”

He clicked his tongue. “Why would I give it back when I plan on using it?”

She froze and he chuckled at her reaction.

“Would be rude of me to break your traditions, wouldn’t it?”

She swallowed, her eyes slowly meeting his again. The appearance of his right dimple told her he wasn’t playing any games. She had no idea how many times he planned to make her come tonight or whether or not she’d even be able to walk tomorrow at work. But, given the stupid look on his face, she almost began making plans to call out sick instead.

“Do you actually know how to use that thing?” She finally asked, glancing at the wand still held very firmly in his hand.

He looked at her like she was crazy moments before he pivoted and pinned her onto her back, settling himself into the position they’d been in before the interruption of the cat.

Just, this time… he was clicking on her vibrator and watching her face as she began to regret her words.

“‘Course I know how to use it. The real question is,” he brought his lips to her ear, the soft vibrations and the sound of his voice mixing together like sin itself. Even more so when he nipped at her earlobe. “Do you know how to handle it?”

#1dffvalentine #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine

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violetlilysunshine · 3 years

Text

Like a Sleepover

Tom Holland x Female Reader

Requested

Anon: Sleeping over Tom Holland house for the first time. Lots of fluff please

WC: 3,544

Warnings: none, just fluff

A/N: I'm seeing this take place in Atlanta, but it’s not really specific if you wanna imagine it somewhere else!

REQUESTS OPEN - Or just come chat :)

MASTERLIST

You and Tom had been together for a little while; you were getting serious, spending more and more time together.

Last month, you finally put a label on yourselves, “is it...ya know, uh… can I, well…” he stuttered.

“Spit it out, Tommy,” you joked.

“Can I call you my girlfriend?”

You were taken aback for a second, “well, uh, to be honest, I kinda thought I already was…” you giggled.

He laughed at you gently, “well alright then, girlfriend…” he trailed off with a raise of his eyebrows.

“Okay, boyfriend.”

TUESDAY

Flash forward and you’re making plans for this weekend seeing as you're both off from filming.

“Yeah, so they’re showing Outsiders at the drive-in on Friday, and we’d have to go to the later showing after I finish filming, but uh, I thought it would be fun and something different for us and I know you love the movie. Might be fun to dress like Greasers too,” he proposed through the phone, calling you between scenes.

“Ooh that does sound like fun, but I wanna be Cherry,” you said, giggling a bit.

“Okay, you can be Cherry, I’ll be Ponyboy,” he finalized.

“Sounds good, well I gotta go,” you said, “duty calls.”

“Yeah, me too, but uh, one more thing real fast?”

“Sure, what’s up, babe?”

“Well seeing as it’s going to be really late, I just thought maybe after it’s over, you could maybe stay with me?” his voice tweaked up at the end. He was met with silence on your end for a minute before he added, “ya know, like a sleepover…”

“Uh, yeah, maybe…” you trailed off, “we’ll see what the wind blows, huh?”

“Oh,” he said, his voice dropping a bit, “yeah sounds good.”

“Okay, well I really do have to run.”

“Alright, darling, talk to you tonight.”

“Bye,” you said, already walking out of your trailer and back to set.

“Yeah, bye,” he answered to himself, seeing as you’d already ended the call.

You had never been nervous with him before, but now he’d casually invited you to stay over at his house for the night, something you’d never done with any boyfriend, ever. You didn’t know how to act, and it kinda freaked you out.

Was he expecting anything? What would you even wear? Should you bring a change of clothes? Would late night last into early morning? What if you woke up before him and didn’t know what to do in his house? What if he woke up first and you slept in really late, leaving him bored and trapped?

Questions swirled your mind, and you knew he would bring it up again, but you had to force them away. You hustled back to set, getting into character and trying to forget about everything.

He called you later that night, “wanna grab a bite with Harry and I?” he proposed.

“Uh sure,” you thought since Harry would be there, he wasn’t likely to bring it up again.

You met him just down the street from his house at the forgotten diner you frequented, never being recognized and getting some peace together. You grabbed burgers and chatted about your day as you ate and everything seemed fine. He didn’t bring it up again, and you thought you would have another few days to process everything and hopefully get over the hurdles in your mind. You wanted to stay with him, but you didn’t know how that would play out, exactly.

“Finished?” he asked, gesturing to your empty tray as he stood up.

“Yeah, thanks,” you smiled, and he cleaned up the table and took the trash to the can.

“I’m gonna walk back, if that’s okay,” Harry said, standing from the table, “got some photos I wanna edit.”

“Sure, bro, I’ll be right behind you,” Tom answered, coming back to you.

“Bye,” you waved as he left you and Tom alone.

“Walk you to your car?” Tom offered.

You stood up, turning around to thank the workers as the two of you left the diner. He walked you to your car, one hand secured around your shoulders, hugging you tight to his side.

“So, uh, I kinda got the sense that you didn’t want to stay with me earlier,” he said slowly, testing the waters to see how you would react.

You swallowed hard, turning to lean on the door of your car, “oh,” you whispered, “well uh, it’s not that, it’s just that I don’t - I’ve never really, uh, done that before.”

“Yeah I know we haven’t, love,” he chuckled.

“I mean, like ever,” you whispered, looking at the ground, “I just uh, don’t really know how that works.”

“Oh, well, uh, it’s not that hard really,” he soothed, “you just sorta sleep at my place, and I take care of you, and make you breakfast, and we just be together.”

You looked into his chocolate eyes, nothing but love pouring out of them. You don’t know how long you held his gaze for, but he started to get a little nervous at your lack of response.

“I mean, we’ve napped together before, it’s kinda like the same thing, just longer,” he added, trying to put you at ease.

“But like, what’s gonna happen?” you said, fiddling with your hands.

He understood what your emphasis meant, bringing a hand to your shoulder and rubbing it gently, “I’m not expecting anything, love,” he soothed you, “if it happens, fine, I’m ready for that. If you’re not that’s fine too, just wanna cuddle with you. Feel you pressed against me. Have my sheets smell like you when I get in ‘em the next night.”

You felt more at ease about it, but wrinkled your nose at his last statement.

His eyes grew wide, “no no no,” he hurried out, “I didn’t mean it, like, in a weird way! It came out wrong!”

You giggled at him, “it’s okay, bub, I get it. Why do you think I like wearing your hoodies all the time?”

He breathed a sigh of relief, chuckling at you, “yeah?”

“Yeah, and to be honest I don’t really even like hoodies. I’m a sweatshirt kind of gal.”

“Noted,” he answered, saving that info for later, “so what d’ya think about Friday?”

“I’ll stay, but like, do I bring anything?”

“You can bring whatever makes you comfortable, love,” he answered quietly, stepping towards you and cupping your face in his hands.

“Okay,” you breathed, connecting your lips to his.

You kissed for a while, his body pressing yours into the door. You pulled back to take a breath, resting your forehead on his, “but really, do I bring like, a toothbrush and stuff?”

“Yes, love, bring a toothbrush,” he chuckled, pecking you again. He swung his arm around your shoulder again, pulling you off the car, “let’s get you home, yeah?”

He opened your door, letting you inside the driver’s seat and closing the door. You started the car, him still standing there watching you. You rolled down the window, “are you coming or what?” you laughed.

“What?” he asked with a chuckle.

“I’m taking you home, obviously,” you giggled.

He ran around to the other side, hopping in quickly and buckling up. His hand rested against your thigh instantly, stroking his thumb across your skin.

You made the short drive to his house, lights on downstairs showing that Harry was already there.

“Thanks for the ride, baby,” Tom said, leaning over the console and giving you a quick peck.

“Anytime,” you whispered, pecking him again.

“See you Friday,” he said with a raise of his eyebrows, squeezing your thigh.

“Yeah, Friday,” you answered quickly.

He pecked you one last time before slipping out of the car and jogging to the front door. You watched him go inside, waving to each other before you drove off.

THURSDAY

After you were off, you took a long shower, exfoliating everything and shaving your legs, in preparation for tomorrow night. You carefully packed your bag: toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, mouthwash, hair brush, extra ponytail holders, face wash, cute pajamas, fuzzy socks, extra undies (more than you’ll ever possibly need but can’t be too prepared, right?), a cute outfit for Saturday, and a book (because who knows what the tide will bring?).

You’d spent so long worrying about what you would take with you, that you’d forgotten that you had to find something to wear to the movie. You’d already agreed to be Cherry, so you had to come up with something.

You slipped to the back of your closet, finding an old-plaid-navy-school-uniform skirt. That’ll work. You pulled out a plain white sweater that you’d never found a chance to wear, thinking you could tuck that in, and a lace bralette to go underneath it; after all, you wanted to feel a little sexy. You pulled forward some old blue Vans and some white crew socks, planning to fold them over. You also planned to ask your hair and make-up artist to help you with your hair before you left set tomorrow, saving a few pictures for her.

By the time you’d done all that, you figured you better go to bed, turning off the light, crawling into bed, and thinking about what tomorrow would bring.

FRIDAY

You’d had a long and stressful day filming, stuttering over your lines, missing your marks, and overall just not giving your best performance. Everyone has their off days, but you knew this was coming from your worries about tonight.

You called Tom as you were getting your hair done after wrapping for the day.

“Hi, bub, am I interrupting you?” you asked as soon as he answered.

“Never, love,” he answered, “what’s up?”

“Well, I’m getting my hair done for tonight, then I was going to head home. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t want me to stop and get anything at all or bring anything specific with me..”

“Course not, darling. You just have to bring that pretty face…” he trailed off.

If you were with him, you’d have slapped his shoulder lightly. Instead you just giggled, asking, “you’re positive?”

“Yes darling,” he insisted, “I’ll pick you up at 9:00.”

“Alright…” you trailed, “guess I better let you get back to work.”

“I’ll see you later, beautiful,” he whispered, “bye.”

“Bye.”

Your hair and make-up artist finished her work, expertly recreating your example images. You thanked her profusely, complimenting her over and over.

She answered with a simple, “it’s nothing dear,” and a wave of her hand.

You hugged her thank you, heading back to your trailer to collect your things.

By the time you got back to your apartment, it was already 8:30. You quickly dropped your work and other set junk on the table, scurrying to your room to collect your bag for Tom’s. You checked over everything in there, playing all the possible scenarios in your mind before deciding you were prepared.

You changed into your outfit for the night, lacing your shoes and admiring yourself in the full length mirror. You snapped a few pictures, deciding that one was cute and posted it to your Instagram story with the caption, “where’s my Pony?” and a cherry emoji.

As soon as you put it up, Tom knocked on your door. You rushed through the living room to the front door, flinging it open to see what Tom had concocted for the evening. You took in his appearance, mouth watering at the sight. You admired his slicked back hair, tight grey t-shirt, sleeves rolled up a bit of course, loose jeans, cuffed at the hem, beat up black converse, and red flannel hanging over his shoulder; you didn’t realize the effect this dress-up would have on you. You giggled, eyeing him up and down as he did the same to you.

“Hey, doll,” he grinned, meeting your eyes again.

“Hey, Pony,” you laughed.

“Ready to go?” he asked gently.

“Yeah, let me just get my bag from my room,” you said, turning back to grab it from your bed.

At the last second you decided to throw a box of tampons in. You weren’t expecting to use them, but you didn’t want to get stranded without them. You sighed, zipping up the bag and turning off your bedroom light.

You emerged from the room, walking towards Tom, standing by the table.

“Ready,” you said, voice kind of quiet.

“Let’s go then,” he smiled brightly, taking your bag from you and grabbing your hand. You locked the door behind you before following him to his car.

~~~~

When you parked to watch the movie, Tom was quick to pull out his phone, snapping a picture of the title screen and posting it to his public story. You knew fans would be in a tizzy, considering your earlier post, but they always were so what’s the point in worrying. Then he turned to you, “take a photo with me, love?”

“Course, Pony, anything for you,” you said dramatically, even though you loved it.

“Are you gonna call me that all night?” he chuckled.

“Maybe forever,” you answered, laughing loudly.

He pulled his phone up to take a selfie. You smiled wide, pressing your faces together, and he turned to peck your cheek. He snapped another, smiling as well, saving it and setting it as his lock screen.

The movie was great, as expected, and the drive-in atmosphere made it even more fun. You didn’t have to worry about fans interrupting you, a big plus, but it also just fit the movie so well, and it was fun to be in costume.

When it wrapped up and you were waiting in the traffic to pull out of the lot, Tom asked gently, “still wanna come over?”

“Yeah, sure,” you said, trying not to overthink things.

“Okay, just making sure. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Just want you to be comfortable,” he said, dropping a hand to your thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Oh, well I wanna give it a go,” you said with a small smile, placing your hand on top of his.

He smiled wide, picking up your hand to give it a kiss, before dropping it back into your lap.

The drive to his house was quick after you finally made it out of the parking lot. He hurried around the car, opening your door for you, before grabbing your bag from the backseat.

He placed a hand on your lower back, gently guiding you to the front door. He shuffled around to unlock it, pushing open the door and allowing you to enter first. You stepped inside, making note of Harry on the couch. It was almost 1:00 AM, so you’d assumed he'd be asleep.

“Oh, hey Harry,” you spoke lightly.

“Hey, was wondering when you’d get here…” he trailed off, “I was just about to turn in. Outfit’s great by the way,” he said, standing from the couch and gathering his laptop.

“I don’t mean to chase you out,” you said, not wanting to be in the way.

“No, no, you didn’t,” he soothed, “it’s time to turn in anyway, gonna go golf in the morning.”

“Oh, okay, goodnight.”

“Night,” he said, trudging down the hall.

Tom had set your bag on the bench in the entryway, coming up behind you. He placed his hands on your hips, pulling you flush against his front, as he snuggled his face into your neck.

“Hi,” he whispered in your hair.

“Hi,” you giggled back, attempting to turn in his grasp.

His hands held you in place, wrapping around to cross over your stomach. He rested his weight against you, slowly swaying the both of you back and forth.

You eyed the mirror across the room, desperate to take pictures like this. After all, he got a new lockscreen earlier…

“Bub,” you giggled, feeling his breath fan across your neck.

“Mmm, yes, my love?” he grumbled, pressing kisses against your skin.

“I wanna take a picture,” you giggled, “over in that cool mirror.”

He squeezed you tighter for a second, before releasing you, “mmkay,” he answered, letting you lead him over to the mirror.

“Do that again,” you told him, guiding his arms around your waist.

He was quick to settle back into you, breathing in your scent as you snapped a few photos in the mirror: a few of him kissing your neck, a few with you both looking in the mirror, a few of him looking at you, lovingly. He buried his face even further into you, hiding completely, as you took just one more. You asked him if it was okay to post one.

“Let me see it first,” he said, wanting to check all of the surroundings for spoilers and whatnot.

He was quick to approve the photo with his lips pressed to your jaw, making you smile.

You put it up on your story, captioning this one, “found him,” with the horse and cherry emojis.

He kissed your neck a few times, watching you post, before mumbling, “ready for bed?”

You yawned slowly, “yeah, I think so.”

“Alright,” he whispered, pecking your cheek one final time.

He slid one hand down your arm, locking your fingers together, and pulling you towards the staircase. He picked up your bag, carrying it with him up to his bedroom. You followed him in and he set your bag on the end of the bed.

“Alright, darling,” he said, rubbing his hands together gently, “make yourself at home.”

“Okay,” you giggled, stepping towards the end of the bed gently.

He’d placed your bag in the middle, next to a sweatshirt. You looked at him, making note of its presence.

“Oh, well, uh, you said you didn’t like hoodies, so I uh, pulled this one out for you, ya know, if you want it,” he said, shuffling his feet.

All you could do was smile, You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into you. You kissed him gently, lingering for just a second.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his lips.

“You’re welcome, darling.”

You turned towards the bed, stepping back from him.

“So what’d you bring?” he asked, one hand finding the zipper of your bag as he tried to get a peek inside. You were quick to stop his hands, not wanting him to see the box of tampons thrown on top.

“Things,” you said giggling, “teeth stuff, hair stuff, clothes, a book…” you trailed off.

“A book?” he laughed lightly, “what book?”

“Looking for Alaska,” you answered, “it’s my comfort book.”

“Well, you’ll have to read it to me,” he said with a glint in his eye.

“Okay,” you whispered with a sheepish smile.

“I’m gonna pop in the bathroom real quick, alright?”

“Of course, it’s your house,” you laughed.

In his absence, you changed clothes, dragging on your tiny sleep shorts and matching tank top and pulling his sweatshirt over the top. You moved your bag off the mattress, dropping it on the floor. He came back quickly, seeing your new outfit, and smiling widely.

“Looks good on you,” he grinned.

“Thanks,” you said, “can I take my makeup off?”

“Course,” he answered, gesturing to the bathroom.

While you did that, he changed as well, dressing in a new t-shirt and clean boxers; he didn’t want to get in bed with you for the first time in dirty boxers of course. He shuffled under the covers, tucking into his usual side and propping against the headboard. He scrolled through Instagram, reposting your stories to his own and liking a few posts of yours.

You returned, dropping your items back in your bag, and grabbing your book. You flipped off the overhead light and stepped into the other side, enjoying how utterly domestic everything felt.

He flipped on the lamp on the side table, opening his arm for you to rest against him. You settled against his chest, opening your book to start to read to him. He kissed your head and rubbed small circles into your arm.

Your eyes were getting heavy as you read, but you would gladly stay up all night reading with him. Unfortunately, he started to doze off, snoring just enough for you to hear. You closed the book, marking your page but knowing you’d have to go back a little bit tomorrow, and reached over to turn the light off.

He woke up a bit, grumbling, “what’re you doing, love?”

“Just turning off the light,” you whispered, “go back to sleep.”

He sank down to lay against the pillows. You dropped back over to your side, curling up, but leaving some distance between you two. You faced him, admiring his face as he slept.

“What’re you doing?” he grumbled, eyes still closed.

“What do you mean?” you giggled, “going to sleep.”

“No, c’mere,” he said, reaching an arm out to wrap around your waist.

He pulled you into him, tangling your legs together and pecking your cheeks. You giggled at him, pulling his lips to yours, kissing him goodnight.

“G’night, my love,” he grumbled, tipping his head back to rest his chin against your forehead.

“Night, Pony,” you whispered back.

He chuckled, squeezing you tighter before you both drifted off to sleep.

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x female reader #tom holland x fem reader #tom holland oneshot #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland sleepover #violetwrites

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englishmensbitch16 · 2 years

Text

“ I will love you either way” part 2

Summary- this is the second part of my remusXreader story based off the song it’ll be okay by Shawn mendes

Warnings- underage drinking, self hatred, self loathing, Jealousy, use of the word slut, no smut just yet, angst, anger, fluff

Before the party

It was now 1 hour before the boys were expecting people to show up in the common room, they invited everyone from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw and a few Slytherins due to the fact that they over heard the Marauders talking about it in potions. Y/n, Lily, Mary, Marlene and Dorcas were all on their dorm getting prepared for the festivities tonight.

“ come on y/n I saw the way Remus was looking at u in the great hall there’s no way he’s not into you, besides have u seen how hot you look since last year I mean damn if he doesn’t go for u I might have to” Lily said with her back facing the girls as she was doing her hair at her vanity

“Lils that’s not even remotely true I mean come on it’s Remus he’s tall and smart an-and he’s kind and he’s wayyy to good for me I mean really there’s no way he likes me back, I’m just me, I’m a clumsy not very pretty annoying freak why would he even look at me when he could have anyone else, he definitely doesn’t feel the same ” y/n sighed throwing herself on her bed “I don’t know maybe I’ll just stay here and read” she said shoving her face into her blankets.

Lily whipped her head around at her friend sulking in her bed “there is no way I’m letting u sit in our dorm and read all night when Remus is expecting you to be there tonight, he literally told you that he’s not going to dance with anyone else because he only wants to dance with you, i don’t know why ur so hard on yourself about things like this, your beautiful and smart so what if ur a little clumsy but y/n you deserve to show people what kinda of badass you are, Remus has been ur friend since we sat on that train in first year and he has always looked at you like ur the stars and the moon… your just so blinded you can’t see the way he looks at you” Lily got up from her seat sitting down beside u on ur bed.

“ you know she’s right basically everyone else can see it” Marlene adds as she throws her clothes across the room trying to find an outfit for tonight “I mean I swear that boy look at you the same way James looks at Lily” she says with a giggle cause Lily to glare at her

“ I mean what if he doesn’t feel that way what if he was just being nice you guys know how kind he is” y/n says voice still muffled by her bed

“ darling we know Remus is kind but he’s never that kind with us, the way he openly flirts with you and calls you nicknames I mean come on the boy calls you love so many times I’m starting to think it’s ur birth name” Lily laughs as she pulls u up from ur bed so your standing in front of her now “ your going to that party, ah don’t even try telling me no. Get ur cute ass in that shower and me and Marls will pick out your outfit and Mary will do your hair when u come out and Dorcas can do ur make up. End. Of. Discussion”

You don’t even bothering arguing with Lily as you make ur way to the shower once your in the bathroom you lock the door behind you and turn the shower on as u remove your clothes from ur body u can’t help but watch your self in the mirror I mean you don’t hate the way you look there are just somethings that you wish u could tweak, you try not to give that to much thought as you step into the now steaming shower.

The girls are Turing the dorm absolutely upside down trying to get ready, Lily and Marlene have already found you the perfect outfit (you guys can picture anything you want and would be comfortable in:)) the girls were now all dressed and waiting for you to finish up in the shower, once they heard the water stop running Lily open the door slightly to hand u the outfit. You came out of the bathroom feeling much more comfortable in the clothes she and Marlene picked for you. Mary sat you down to get started on your hair first doing a drying charm so she could curl it using her wand and Dorcas started to do your makeup.

In the blink of a very detailed eye you were all ready to head down to the party you could already hear the music going and the voices of students along with the loud shouts of Sirius and James telling people its “TIME TO PARTY” Marlene handed u a cup of fire whiskey “what fun is a party if you don’t pregame” she winked and cheersed the girls as u felt the burn of the drink go down your throat you felt a little more confident about going down.

“ alrighty let’s get this show on the road” Marlene grabbed Dorcas hand pulling her out of the room heading down stairs with Mary following after them.

“You ready love bug?” Lily squeezed your hand lightly

“As ready as I can be” your squeezed her hand back and let her pull u out of your dorm heading down the stairs.

“Y/n! Lily! Oh your finally here and looking very fit if I may add” an already tipsy Sirius stumbled his way towards you two throwing his arms around you and Lily pulling you further into the party, you couldn’t help yourself from looking around trying to spot Remus, when ur eyes finally found him he was sitting on the couch beside the fire place with Peter talking about something you couldn’t hear but just at the sight of him your cheeks flushed and a small smile crept onto your lips.

Sirius pulled you and Lily to the same couch that Remus is sitting on and he practically threw you into the spot next to the tall boy.

“ well hello love nice of you to join the party” Remus smirked as he brought his drink to his slightly chapped lips after he took a large sip he leaned down so his lips were hovering just over your ear “I thought my dance partner was planning on standing me up” he whispered just loud enough for you to hear him over the loud music and he moved back to his original position except letting his arm rest comfortably on the sofa behind your head.

“ well Remus I would never want to miss the opportunity to dance with you” you say with a slight low tone looking up at him through your eyelashes with a small smirk playing on ur lips, Remus visibly gulped at the tone of your voice and the look you gave him he’s never quite seen you match his energy before and it starts to make he feel hot and flustered, maybe pregaming was a good idea after all “ I’m going to go grab a drink I’ll be back” you add after u noticed the red in his cheeks starts to darken you grip his thigh so u can get up but just as your hand is about to leave his leg his hand encases your and he pulls you slightly down so your can hear him

“ be quick I don’t want to wait much longer till I can dance with you love” he voice was huskier now he gently squeezed your hand before letting go so you can walk away, a small smirk has formed on your face as you made your way to the drink table, Lily and Mary were standing by the table already giving you a conniving look as you walked up to them.

“Well looks as though u have a new found confidence” Lily smirks at you

“ you know maybe I’m just tired of being afraid to get my heart broken, I mean what’s the fun in hiding when I could be do a lot more fun things” you say as you pour yourself a drink into a red cup

“ yeah fun things, like Remus” Mary giggled behind her cup, Lily giggled when u shot you head up to stare at her with wide eyes

“ you know what I’m not even going to deny that” you say as a small smirk makes it’s way onto your lips and u give the girls a cheeky wink before heading back to your spot on the couch.

When u turn around you eyes are immediately drawn to the blonde now sitting next to Remus in your spot with her hands gripping his bicep as she tosses her head back in a fit or flirtatious giggles and you swore you saw RED. Wtf is going on you thought Remus only wanted to spend the night with you, but know there’s a blonde Hufflepuff bimbo hanging off him like a leech, you can’t help but feel a little jealous as she runs her hands up and down his arm and she moves closer to him almost sitting on him like you were earlier today.

“Fuck this” you say to yourself as u chug the rest of your drink down and go back to the table to pour yourself another one.

“ hey love bug what you doin back so soon?” Lily ask her brows raising in question when she noticed the scowl etched onto your face she looks behind you and sees the blonde girl practically hitched on Remus’ lap finally understanding why your upset “oh hell no what the fuck does she think she’s doing, all over him like that everyone knows you and Remus like each other, I’m gonna bloody kill her” Lily tries to stampede her way over to them but your grabbed her are before she could even move three feet.

“ lils it’s whatever clearly he just doesn’t feel the same way it’s fine I mean he’s not the only reason I came tonight I can just hangout with you” you chugged down your drink again before grabbing Lily’s hand “c’mon let’s go dance and help me forget about that boy” you gave her a small smile basically telling her you need her right now and who would Lily be if she didn’t help you through this right now, you and Lily made your way to the makeshift dance floor the boys had set up and began swaying to the music.

what you didn’t notice was Remus’ eyes searching for you when they finally settled on your body he couldn’t help but noticed the way your hips were moving and the way you hands were hanging off of Lily’s neck as the both of you danced together he also noticed how much you’ve changed from last year you seemed to have matured and grown and he felt his body grow warm as his eyes travelled down your body, he was brought back to reality when the blonde girl beside him moved closer to him, he didn’t even know this girls name let alone why she was all over him but he didn’t want to be sitting here with her he wanted to be out there with you.

You finally caught his eyes with yours noticing him staring at you, a smirk fell onto your lips and you had a sinful idea “ hey you” you noticed a decently cute Slytherin dancing only a few feet from you and Lily, he turned around and looked you up and down like you were his prey “ wanna dance?” He immediately placed his hands on your hips and pulled you close to him as your body’s moved to the music, of course you were only doing this to get a rise out of Remus but hey why not have some fun tonight.

Remus felt a rush of anger when he saw that boy touch you he couldn’t just sit here and watch as you danced so closely to another man he had to do something and quickly, practically tossing the blonde Hufflepuff off him lap he stood with such dominance and anger. “ what the hell was that for?” He looked down at the girl on the floor where she had landed.

“ oh um sorry but your not my type” he said to the girl who scoffed at his response and he made his way to where you were dancing.

You felt a presence behind you and you turned to see if Lily was still there, the boy you were dancing with still holding u against him, your back to his chest as u spun around thinking you’ll find Lily’s green kind eyes you instead found intimidating hazel ones burning into you, you almost let out a squeal when u saw him standing in front of you, no blonde girl hanging off his arm anymore just him with a gaze that made you feel small and his chest heaving with anger you could practically feel the jealousy leaking off him.

All the sudden you felt your self being ripped away from the boy you were dancing with and into the arms of Remus “oy mate what the fuck you think your doing that’s my girl” the Slytherin boy shouted at Remus.

Remus chucked at that statement “ yeah mate we’ll sorry to break it to you but she’s far from being your girl” Remus wrapped he arm tightly around your waist holding you close to him as he moved closer to the boy staring him dead in the eyes “she will never be your girl” he moved to the boys ear so you couldn’t hear what he said next “ but she will always be mine” the boy just scoffed and walked away back over to his Slytherin buddies and Remus turned back to you

“What do you think your were doing love?” He pulled u close

“ well Remus I was dancing” you felt your body grow warm from how close he was

“ no no I seen that, what I meant was” he moved his lips closer to your ear before speaking again “what the fuck were you doing hanging off that wanker like a little slut” his voice was dripping with venom as he spoke

Your eyes shot open in surprise, you’ve never heard Remus say such things in such a way it made you feel different, but alas you weren’t gonna let him win.

“ oh I was the one being a slut if you don’t recall there was some blond Hufflepuff bitch practically on your lap just a few minutes ago”

“Oh love is that what this is about” he mocked, the cocky fucker was mocking you right now “you were jealous?”

“ oh I’m the one who’s jealous?” You smirked at him “ weren’t you the one who ripped me away from that guy then scared the bloody life out of him” you taunted as you ran your hand down his chest, his arms still wrapped tightly around your waist.

Remus pushed out a breath “I was not jealous”

You looked at his eyes “ oh you weren’t jealous?”

“ no I wasn’t” he clenched his jaw so tight you thought he might break a tooth

“ oh alright then I guess I’ll just back to dancing with him then” before you could even take a step away from him you felt Remus’ hand latch onto ur wrist and suddenly your feet were moving faster than you could usually keep up with.

Remus had brought you to the area before the stairs heading up to the boys dorms no one else was here and the music was less loud so you could actually hear your self think, it happened all at once you were pushed against the wall and Remus had a tight hand on your right hip and the other was placed on the wall beside your head, you could see the way his muscles flexed from how hard he was pushing on the wall.

“Don’t . You. Dare” he was breathing so ragged and heavy, you’ve never seen Remus like this before, it was erotic.

“Don’t what Remus? What don’t you want me to do?” You teased him slightly, of course you knew he was talking about the boy but you wanna hear him say it.

“Don’t talk about him, don’t look at him, don’t even think about him, because when u do all I can imagine is his hands on your body” his voice was huskier then your ever heard it “and he’s not allowed to touch you like that” his head was coming lower and lower until his forehead was resting against yours “only I can touch you like that” your voice hitched in your throat when the words left his lips you couldn’t help but move your head to look him in the eyes to see if you could find and trace of regret, when you couldn’t find any the words just slipped out of your mouth

“ so show me I’m yours then” his lips instantly crashed onto yours with so much passion and feelings behind it you felt like all the air in your lungs got trapped his hand was on the wall now moved to the back of your neck pulling your hair slightly to make you tilt your head more and the hand that was gripping your hip now moved to wrap around your waist pulling you closer to him entirely you couldn’t help but let out a whimper as he broke the kiss.

“Does that prove it to you?” He was smirking, and he pushed a piece of your hair out of your face and behind your ear “ y/n your mine”

You couldn’t trust your voice right now to reply to him so all you could do was wrap your arms around his neck pulling him back in for another kiss, although that one was cut short by Peter running in to grab your attention “guys Sirius is really drunk and is on the table belting somebody to love, come quick”

“Again?”

You and Remus laughed at the fact u spoke simultaneously.

“ Okok Petey we’re coming” You laughed as you started walking back towards the party but u hand was tugged back and u hit Remus’ chest

“ just want one more before we go back in” he kissed you again but this one felt different than the first it was calmer softer more romantic and grounding “ ok let’s head back in love” he smiled at you, you don’t think u ever smiled so big.

Oh god now u gotta tell the girls.

#remus lupin smut #harry potter #remus lupin x you #remus lupin fic #marauders smut #remus x reader #remus lupin

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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years

Text

While You Sleep

Chapter 9

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: N/A, just fluff this time! Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier.

(a/n: yes i really used some cliche scenes expected from a bucky fic but come on you have to, right?)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

If you thought you were scared before your first encounter with Bucky, your feelings as you got ready for this date were unbelievable.

The pressure really felt on this time.

In the anxiety of nervousness and self-doubt, you had bought a whole new outfit for this date. You stood in the mirror, checking yourself over as you adorned a lovely knee-length, flowy dress. It had little flowers decorated all over it. The fabric was soft and comfortable, easing worries just a bit more - if you felt good, all would go good, right? The entire thing was complimented by a new pair of flats. You even spent more time on your make-up, making sure everything was just right and accentuating all your features pleasantly.

The more you did, the better you felt, until you realized there was no more to do. Once your hair was laid gently over your shoulder in a cascading braid, you had to face the fact that it was almost game time. Glancing over, your clock told you Bucky would be here any minute.

Still, back at the mirror, you couldn’t help yourself from fidgeting. You tweaked your braid, fixed the invisible wrinkles on your dress, even reconsidered your lipstick color choice… But then it happened. Your phone’s ringtone sang throughout your room, giving you a jumpscare. You had to take a deep breath before crossing the space and answering the call. Bucky’s name flashed on the screen.

“Hi, Bucky,” you said.

“Hi, doll,” Bucky responded, a little sing-songy tone in his voice. His cheeriness was practically contagious through the phone. Your heart fluttered. “I’m outside whenever you’re ready.”

“O-Okay,” you sputtered out, letting out a cough to cover it but it didn’t work well as Bucky let out a light chuckle at your nerves. You chose to ignore it and continued, “I’ll be down in a second.”

“Alright,” he said. “See you soon.” The line disconnected. You sighed, gripping your phone probably too tightly. Closing your eyes, you inhaled then exhaled, centering yourself, letting your pounding heart come down.

One last look in the mirror and you realized that it was game time. There were no more preparations you could make. Your soulmate was waiting downstairs and off you went to get swept away.

Bucky wasn’t the only thing that greeted you when you exited the apartment building. He was standing by a taxi, one arm leaning against it like it was the world's most romantic chariot. A smile broke out on your lips as you approached him.

“Good evening.”

Bucky gave a nod, “Good evening.”

He kept staring at you, taking you in fully and shamelessly. You blushed under his focused eyes and quickly looked away. Motioning towards the taxi, you said, “Is this our ride for the night?”

Now he was smiling as well. “Just to get us there.”

You hummed, interested. “Where is ‘there?’”

“Gotta get in the taxi and find out, sweetheart,” Bucky said with a proud smirk as he opened the door. He extended his arm out dramatically, motioning for you to slide in. You mumbled a shy thank you, still feeling your blushing was out of control and got comfy in the cab.

Once Bucky was also settled in, he leaned in very close to the driver and whispered the destination. You pretended not to notice but had to admit, he sure was sticking to the whole surprise thing. It made you feel quite giddy inside knowing he was going through all this just to surprise you. To give you a (hopefully) nice date.

Once the taxi driver understood the address, Bucky leaned back and the drive began. You stared out the window, watching your neighborhood pass by, as you tried to ignore Bucky still staring at you. It was like he was really focused on you like he was searching for something. It made you feel all kinds of warmth under your dress.

“You look beautiful,” Bucky finally said, breaking the backseat silence. Your heart that was once pounding suddenly was going a million miles an hour. Uncontrollably, you whipped your head to look at Bucky. You met his eyes which were looking at you with such wonder and longing. Oh yeah, it was getting warm in this taxi, you thought.

“Thank you,” you said, shyly. You still didn’t understand where this nervous, antsy of you was coming from. You had been around him plenty of times, even had a bit of a fight that night in your fucking apartment, but now this was what you were scared of? A date? You had to shake your head to literally shake off the nerves, something that was becoming a habit of you now.

Eventually, you forced yourself to add on to the conversation, “You look great, as well.” And that certainly was the truth. Bucky had cleaned up nicely. His hair was slicked back casually. He wore a soft sweater and black slacks. The outfit was paired with dress shoes. The entire look just felt… Classic but in the best way. In a way that was Bucky at heart.

You two fell into silence again but it was more comfortable, like Bucky’s words had hidden messages telling you to calm down. This was just another date, as couples do, and you two had been through crazy stuff - cough, cough… the fucking apartment showdown. Well, maybe that was a bit dramatic, you thought, but it sure felt hostile in the moment.

Moments later, the taxi stopped outside some… dance hall? You peered up at the sign, quizzically. You had no idea these places even existed anymore. This was already turning out to be the most unique you had ever been on but it wasn’t like you had been on many.

You were about to get out when Bucky stopped you. Confused, you watched him run around the front of the taxi and stop at your door. He opened it for you, as any gentleman would. He offered you his hand and helped you out. After paying for the cab, he came back to join you, offering his arm for you to take.

“Dancing?” You asked as you two walked towards the entrance. “You’re taking me dancing?”

There was a faint blush creeping up on Bucky’s neck. “I am,” he said. “Back in the day, when I wanted to woo a girl I took her dancing. I hope that’s okay with you.”

You giggled, “Yeah, it’s...” Your words abruptly stopped as you were suddenly hit with the realization: you didn’t fucking know how to dance. Even in your own time period, you couldn’t be thrown out anywhere expecting to bust some moves. Your feet stopped moving before you could enter the hall.

Bucky turned to you, concerned. “Everything okay, sweetheart?”

You wouldn’t look at him and instead looked past him, through the clear doors of the dance hall, watching the couples spin and twirl about. “I don’t know how to dance.”

Bucky waved a hand in dismissal and continued walking. “There’s no need to worry, doll,” he said as he opened the door for you. “You can follow my lead and you’ll be just fine, okay? I’ve got you.”

Your heart skipped a beat as Bucky placed a hand on your lower back, leading you around the hall. The music was loud, more on the big band side, though. You saw up-close now as the couples flung each other around, laughing in awe at one another. There was a bar off at one end where patrons moved around it with beverages. The place was fairly crowded as well, something you didn’t really peg Bucky for being enthusiastic about, but his face lit the second you two walked in. There was something like a sense of familiarity in his eyes.

You didn’t comment on it, though, and instead took his arm again, letting him guide you to the bar first. You were silently thankful, hoping a nice drink would loosen you up - at least, enough to actually get you on the dance floor.

Bucky ordered for you two which you actually appreciated. Part of you enjoyed seeing him take charge like this. Plan the date, open your door, order a drink you might like… The care of it all made your heart sing.

Retrieving the drinks, he handed you one. You thanked him as you took the drink and looked it over. The drink was something dark poured over ice. An orange peel and cherry bobbed in the liquid, next to the ice. You sipped it, letting the taste of whiskey and orange essence hit your tastebuds.

“It’s lovely,” you said and took another sip. For as nice as it was, you weren’t exactly well versed in cocktails. “What is it?”

“An old fashioned,” Bucky answered as he took his own sip of the drink, letting himself lean in closer to you as you two stood at the bar. He still watched you with a curious intensity that made your skin all kinds of heated. “I-I’m glad you like it.”

A silence fell over you two once more as you sipped your drink and let your gaze wander back to the dancing pairs. They moved so majestically and vibrantly across the hardwood floor. Engrossed with one another, trusting as they spun about. You had to admit, it did look quite fun.

“Up for a bit of a dance after this, doll?” Bucky drawled, a hint at what sounded like a little Brooklyn accent peaked out, making you grin. He must’ve been absolutely transported back in time and you were so thankful you could be there with him.

You took a drink, probably more than you should’ve in one gulp, and said, “Maybe if this drink kicks in soon I’ll let you show me a few moves.” You smiled to yourself. “That is, assuming you still have moves.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows at you as he stared at you above his glass. “Excuse me?”

You giggled, “Well, you’ve got a few years in you. Just want to make sure you can show a gal a good time.”

Bucky scoffed and then, without any other warning, he grabbed your drink from your hands. Slamming both the glasses on the bar counter, he gripped your hand in his and dragged you out to the floor. You shuffled to keep up, giggling loudly at the fire you had sparked within him. It was amazing what a little banter could do to him. Once he picked an area, the band began playing a new song and Bucky fell into the rhythm quickly.

You stared, a bit stunned watching him move. But Bucky wouldn’t let you just stand there for long. Getting into the beat, he grabbed both your hands and began instructing you on the steps. Thankfully, it wasn’t as serious as you thought it would be. This was just a dance hall, after all. Everyone was too caught up in their own lovers to pay attention to others. You watched his feet intensely, as you kicked and stomped, feeling a bit clunky but Bucky, you glanced at him every now and then, was watching you with a hint of pride in his eyes.

Suddenly, he decided to get daring and spun you out, quickly pulling you back into his arms. You let out a laugh, enjoying the spontaneous move of it all and reveling in the feeling of his arms around you. Following that, you fell back into the rhythm. As you got more confident, you could actually look at Bucky better and saw he looked just as pleased and excited as you were. You felt you two had melted into the crowd well despite you feeling like a sore thumb.

The twirling was probably your favorite and you were very pleased with your dress choice. As he moved you, it would flare just slightly around your thighs, making you feel like fabric just drifting in the wind. Bucky seemed to like it as well as his hands felt like they made a point to never leave your body, always prying and begging for you close.

Eventually, after a couple of upbeat songs, the music turned down, now on the more slow side. Bucky, however, seemed very prepared for this as he pulled you into his body without a second thought. His hand landed on your lower waist, your front pressed to him securely. His metal hand was entangled with yours, lifted away from your bodies, as you two moved in a small circle.

You and Bucky finally really locked eyes for what felt like really the first time in the entire dancing sequence. His eyes looked at you so softly, so in total awe. Maybe there was even a hint of admiration just lurking, you noted. You felt yourself blushing intensely, but then again, when weren’t you like that around Bucky?

Bucky eventually spoke. “You were a natural, sweetheart.”

You shrugged, a small smile on your lips. “I think I just had a really awesome teacher.”

“Oh, yeah?” He grinned. “He must’ve been great. Taught you some nice moves.”

“Mhm,” you nodded, “he’s the absolute best. Really good-looking as well. That’s a nice bonus.”

“You’re making me blush, doll.”

“Good. That’s how I get all the time around you. It’s time you had a taste of your own medicine.”

Bucky threw his head back, letting out a loud laugh. “Really, honey?” His eyes met yours again. You jumped at the new pet name. It felt so much more...domestic. “I make you blush? Make you feel a bit warm?” His tone got lower as it was just above a whisper. A shiver ran up your spine.

You bit your lip, contemplating how far this was going to go. “You make me feel many things, Bucky. Good things.”

His grin had turned to a full teasing smile now. He didn’t respond, though, just nodded with a mischievous expression now coming across his features. You were going to ask what he was thinking about when the music stopped and the band announced they would be taking a break. It sounded like Bucky let out a sigh of relief as he promptly took your hand and began leading you off the dance floor.

“You hungry, doll?” He asked, stopping next to the exit, hands in his pocket now, looking all casual. But the casualness was a nice cover, you thought, as his expression held everything but unsuspecting.

You hummed. “I could go for something.”

He nodded, still smiling. “I planned to cook you dinner. Is that alright?”

You gasped, “I get to go to your apartment now?”

He laughed as he took your hand again, now leading you out of the dance hall. You two began making your way down the street, hands gripped tightly together.

“You will get to see my apartment but fair warning, it’s nothing special.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, like mine was a real looker.”

“At least yours looks lived in.”

You looked up at Bucky quickly, mouth open now as if you wanted to say something but you didn’t really know what. He wouldn’t look back at you now and instead just kept leading you to presumably his apartment building. You turned your sights back on the sidewalk, watching the cars and people rush around in the nighttime landscape of the city, as you let Bucky guide you.

It was a fairly nice area he lived in, an estimated taxi ride away from you. The area was really bustling with people now and there were shops and eateries galore to browse. You glanced in the windows as you passed, watching others mingle about and eat their dinners.

Eventually, Bucky stopped in front of a building and pulled open the door. He let you in first, still ever so the gentlemen despite you not knowing where the hell you were going. Neither of you dwelled on this though as Bucky took your hand again and led you to his apartment. You felt yourself getting antsy the closer you got but you didn’t understand why. As much as you wanted your flirting to get you a little bit somewhere, this was dinner. A nice lovely dinner with your soulmate. One that he planned to cook. (Could he actually cook, though? You debated this as you went.)

Bucky unlocked the door and let you in. Sadly, he wasn’t too far off from the comment about it not looking lived in. There wasn’t… much of anything. There were the essentials - kitchen, couch, stools, television - but nothing that screamed Bucky. Or that he even actually stepped foot in here.

But you weren't about to say any of this. You lingered by the kitchen counter. “It’s cozy.”

Bucky chuckled, “Thanks for trying, doll.”

You frowned. “I-I mean it. It’s nice. Clean and… and formal.” Well, you thought, what could you expect from a former soldier?

Bucky raised his eyebrows, though, not buying it.

“Alright,” you sighed, “it could use maybe some personal touches but your space is your space. Who am I to judge when mine looks like it's falling apart?”

“Yours has personality,” Bucky shrugged as he slowly took steps towards you. You were leaning against the counter now, arms crossed watching him approach.

“That means it's a trainwreck.”

He smirked, “It means it fits you and I like you, so, naturally, I’m going to like your apartment.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. “You like me?” You asked and winced at your words. Apparently, you were having a hard time growing out of this silly schoolgirl crushing phase.

Bucky nodded, now pretty close, staring you down. One hand came to rest on the counter beside you, slightly trapping you in. “I do like you.”

You couldn’t get over how close he was now. Even during your slow dance, you don’t think he was like… this. Towering, confident. Your eyes flicked to his inviting lips quickly before returning back to his eyes. They held amusement and… Was that a hint of amorousness in them? Your pulse was racing.

“Enough to make me dinner?” You let out a breathy chuckle, trying your hand at humor to figure out what was going on here. You didn’t mean to be practically dismissing these advancements but you also couldn’t believe they were happening. You thought it was just some sweet back and forth in the dance hall, a possible side effect of the adrenaline from dancing getting to you two. But, no. This fact was simple. Bucky wanted you.

“You know,” he sighed, “I don’t think I’m really hungry.”

“Oh?”

“At least not for dinner.”

You were barely able to let out a gasp at his confirmation before Bucky’s lips were on yours, hot and heavy.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #mcu #mcu fic #marvel fanfiction #marvel #avengers #soulmate au #fluff #writing*#the winter soldier #fanfic #fanfiction

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happyandticklish · 3 years

Text

A Matter Of Spirits

Notes: Does anyone actually want a Dorian Gray fic? Probably not. Am I going to write one anyway? Abso-fucking-lutely. I do have a fic request that I’m editing right now, so that’s also coming soon. Based off the book, not any of the film adaptations.

Summary: When Dorian refuses to sit for a painting, Basil turns to Henry for assistance.

“Dorian. Please.”

The other continued to slump in his seat, staring off into the distance in that irritating, brooding fashion of his. This had been going on for a while now, no matter how Basil attempted to persuade the other. Dorian was in a mood which meant he would not sit for the painter and he most certainly wouldn’t smile. Normally, Basil was patient with Dorian’s swinging fancies, leading him to great heights of euphoria one moment and the depths of despair in the next, but today was different.

The painting wasn’t for himself this time. A client had offered a great price for it, a sum that left the struggling artist dazzled. Normally, he didn’t sell portraits of Dorian—they were his secret joy, a beauty he could admire without the prying eyes of others. But that much could not be ignored, and so Basil had decided to make an exception, just this once.

Unfortunately, it appeared his plans were going to be ruined if Dorian continued to act like this. Basil’s brow pinched in annoyance and exhaustion as Dorian fell back against the couch, one arm thrown over his face, the very picture of agony.

“It’s just one painting,” Basil tried again, trying to force his voice to take on an appealing tone. “One painting and then you can go about your tantrum.”

“It isn’t a tantrum,” came Dorian’s muffled protest. “How can you expect me to pose when I’m miserable?”

“I hardly think the situation calls for one to be miserable—”

“My favorite pair!” Dorian interrupted, sitting up suddenly to glare stricken at the other. He pointed to his pants, which now spotted a rather unfortunate blue ink splot. “Ruined. It’ll probably never come out, and even if it does, there will be a stain, and then where will I be? How am I to go on with stained trousers?”

Basil resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It was true that the paint might not come out, but Dorian was not one who could be accused of having a low supply of nice apparel. He had dozens of other pairs, all fairly similar in style. There was no need to get so worked up about the accident. Nevertheless, Basil knew if he put it like that his painting would never come about.

“What’s all this about?”

The pair turned to find Lord Henry strolling idly into the room, one hand poised elegantly on his cane. He was always elegant, no matter what the setting. Basil would have been impressed by it if he didn’t find it so irritating. Henry glanced between Dorian, distraught on the couch, Basil, standing next to an empty canvas, and finally at the empty chair in the middle of the room where Dorian would under normal circumstances be posing. He raised an eyebrow.

“Henry,” Basil said, a note of relief to his voice at the presence of his friend. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I let myself in. Dorian, whatever is the matter? You look as though poor old Basil here has just made an attempt on your life.”

Dorian sniffed, tilting his chin up petulantly. “He has, at least to me. Look at this!” He pointed to the stain, as though that itself should have been cause for outrage from the other.

Henry blinked, before nodding slowly. “I see. He has… stained your pants? To what end?”

“It was an accident,” Basil explained, crossing his arms. “I was showing Dorian some of the new colors I had got brought in recently, and a bit got on him, that’s all. He’s overreacting.”

“Ruined,” Dorian repeated with a lack of anything else to say in his defense.

Henry balanced his cane on the edge of the sofa, coming to take a seat beside the other. He examined the stain carefully, making sure to glance at it from all angles. Basil and Dorian watched him, both waiting to hear whose side he would take. Finally, he leaned back, clapping his hands together definitively. “Why, Dorian, you have nothing to worry about! It’s only a little stain, and hardly noticeable at that. A quick wash ought to fix it.”

Dorian fixed him with a suspicious glance, but it was difficult to doubt Henry, and finally a bit of hope came into his eyes. “Really?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Henry assured him. “Now, come, you’re being ridiculous. Sit for Basil. He only wants a portrait, nothing more. Surely you can accomplish that?”

Dorian looked as though he were on the edge of giving in, but finally he turned his face aside stubbornly. “I can’t. The mood is ruined. I can’t pose when my spirits are so low. I’ll look dreadful.”

Basil threw his hands up in frustration, ready to give up altogether and try again tomorrow, though he knew it would heavily delay the process. Henry, however, was not deterred. “A matter of low spirits, you say?”

There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and all at once Basil realized his plan, recognizing the look from years of being around the other. Dorian had not yet experienced Henry’s fullproof method for cheering one up, and so he simply frowned in puzzlement, reluctantly glancing back at the other.

“What is it?” he asked apprehensively. “Why do you look like that? Henry, what—hey!”

Dorian’s next words were overtaken by a surprised giggle as Henry’s hands found their way suddenly to his sides. He squirmed back against the couch, weakly attempting to bat the other away. “W-Wahait, noho!”

“I’m simply raising your spirits, nothing more,” Henry replied calmly, expertly maneuvering against the clothing protecting the other and finding each and every spot that had Dorian desperate to get away. “After all, you’re laughing, aren’t you?”

Dorian was, quite a lot at that, and the sound was breathtaking as Basil listened and watched the scene unfold. His laughter had always been uproarious, a carefree, wild sound that brought to mind the joy of childhood; Dorian had never been one to hide away his emotions, always feeling and existing in his truest self. But now that same laughter took on a more frantic cadence, breaking off into fits of giggles and every once in a while a sudden shriek when Henry hit a good spot. It was unreasonably endearing, and Basil felt a blush fighting its way onto his features. He knew he should look away or help—though whether he was to help Dorian or Henry he couldn’t say—but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight.

Dorian was a mess of limbs, his outfit thoroughly rumpled by this point, something that he would have cared about if he wasn’t so focused on the way Henry’s fingers skillfully climbed his ribs. “P-Plehehehease, Ihihihi’ll dihihie!”

“I’m certain you shall be fine, there’s no need for dramatics,” Henry dismissed, working around Dorian’s attempts to shove him off. “Besides, to die of laughter would be a worthy death in my opinion.”

Basil scoffed at the vague poetry, stepping in and placing a hand on Henry’s shoulder. “Don’t you think he’s had enough?”

“That is up to Dorian himself,” Henry replied, his eyes sparkling with a mischievous delight. “Well? What do you say, my friend? Are you significantly cheered up yet?”

In truth, Dorian could already feel his poor mood dissipating, but despite this he continued to persist. “Of course not,” he huffed, grabbing at Henry’s wrists finally and holding them firmly. “This is ridiculous, I am not still a child. I have no time for such silly behavior.”

“And yet you were certainly acting like one earlier,” Basil commented without thinking, and Dorian shot him a betrayed look.

“Basil is right,” Henry agreed. “Which is why he’ll be assisting me. I can’t have you squirming around so much, you’ll only get in the way. Basil, his arms please.”

Basil snapped his head up, having not expected to get brought into this. “Well, I don’t think—”

“Basil is far too soft-hearted for this torture,” Dorian interrupted before he could finish. “He is not so bold or ruthless as you.”

The comment worked better than anything Henry could have said to convince him, and in the next moment Basil was on the couch behind him, slipping his hands under the other’s arms and securing them in a tight grip. “Henry, proceed.”

Dorian’s eyes went wide as he realized his predicament, and he surged against the hold to no avail. “Wait, hold on, there’s no need—ahAHA!”

His words broke off into wild cackling as Henry continued his attack, wiggling his fingers with quick, deft gestures under his arms. “Feeling anymore cooperative now?” Henry teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Thihihihis ihihis cruhuhuel!” Dorian protested, his actions growing more desperate as the vulnerable spot was continuously pursued. Yet no matter how he thrashed, there was no escape. “Bahahahasil!”

“Yes Dorian?” Basil asked, growing more confident in his actions as he listened to the sweet giggles, and the delighted expression that Dorian was doing a poor job at hiding. “Going to me for help will do you no good, not after all you’ve put me through this afternoon. I’m afraid you’re simply going to have to face the consequences of your actions.”

“Mehehehean!” Dorian kicked his legs out uselessly, throwing his head back into Basil’s chest. He jerked suddenly when Henry’s fingers began to travel, pinching up and down his ribs. His laughter pitched several octaves, and his hands flapped about, attempting to grab hold of anything that would help him out. “AhAHAHA, HEHEHENRY!”

“Dorian, please, calm yourself,” Henry said, shaking his head. “You are causing quite the ruckus, what if the neighbors hear?”

Dorian could hardly reply, too lost in his own laughter. Each tweak or prod of his ribs had him spasming, his layers doing little to protect him. The spot appeared to be unbearably ticklish, worse even than the cruel scribbling under his arms. Dorian was no stranger to his own sensitivity, a fact which had been brought to his attention in stark clarity when he was a child, but he hadn’t been tickled in many years and he was unprepared for just how intense it could be.

Finally, he managed to form enough coherency to spew a stream of giggly protests. “I-Ihihihihi dehehehehemand thahahahat—ehehehe, aha—thahahahat yohohou stahahahap ahahahahat ohohonce! Ihihihi wihihihill—ah! Heh, nahaha, nohoho! I wihihihill gehehehet m-my, mihihi—stahahap ihihihit, nahahahat thehehere!”

“You’re not making any sense, I’m afraid,” Henry informed him sympathetically. “Really, I have spoken with you about the benefits of proper articulation before, there’s no need to stammer so. Basil, can you understand a word of what he’s saying?”

“I can’t say I do,” Basil replied, and suddenly his own fingers had been added into the mix, scribbling over the edges of his armpits from where he held him tight. Dorian shrieked, unprepared for the double assault, and burst into a round of cursing as his laughter advanced to an even more frantic pitch. “I suppose we’ll just have to keep encouraging him until he remembers the proper form of speech.”

Red had begun to creep across Dorian’s features as well, a testament to the teasing that was slowly working to unravel with along with the tickling. With that, his stubbornness finally caved. “Ohohohokay, OHOHohohohokay, I-I’ll sihihihihit!”

Henry and Basil exchanged a pleased glance and collectively sat back, releasing Dorian to wrap his arms around himself in a giggly pile between them. After he had regained his breath somewhat, Dorian managed a half-hearted glare in Henry’s direction. “That was wholly uncalled for.”

“Are your spirits not cheered?” Henry pointed out. “You cannot convince me you weren’t enjoying yourself. You’ve never been one to give in so easily to something you weren’t willing to engage in.”

Dorian blushed, sitting up straight and adjusting his jacket with a cough. “That is ridiculous, Henry, utterly ridiculous. I did nothing of the sort. And to think I thought you were a man of intelligence.”

Henry raised a wry brow, shrugging his shoulders. “If that is what you must tell yourself, I will let you believe it for now. Don’t fool yourself into thinking I won’t discover the truth on a later occasion, however.”

Dorian’s stomach flipped not unpleasantly at the idea, but he merely scoffed, springing from the sofa and bounding over to the sitting chair. “Well, if I’m going to sit, I’m going to need a change of outfit at once. Look at me, I look positively tousled, like I’ve been out in a storm!”

Basil watched him as he continued to waltz about the room, making endless comments about dress and hair, but with a far more agreeable air than before. “Thank you,” he whispered gratefully to Lord Henry, who startled at the sound, tearing his gaze away from Dorian where it had previously been taken.

“Yes, of course old friend, always happy to help. Although you might be careful he doesn’t discover your weakness as well.”

He reached over and tweaked Basil’s side playfully. Basil yelped, having not expected the sudden attack, and batted away his hand quickly. He flushed, glaring at him. “Quiet down with that, will you? For your information, that is not information that will be getting out anytime soon.”

“Basil! I can hardly paint this portrait by myself now can I?”

Basil’s attention immediately snapped back to the other, and he rose to his feet, offering an obliging smile as he made his way over. “No, you cannot. You would make a miserable artist.”

The two continued to talk and bicker contentedly as Basil helped him fix his hair which had gotten tangled in the earlier tussle. Henry watched them with a knowing smile, certain they would figure themselves out. Perhaps not that day, but eventually. After all, they must do it in their own time.

Henry slipped out quietly while they talked, allowing them to have the day to themselves.

Maybe one day, he thought with a gentle smile.

#tickling #tickle fic #dorian gray #basil hallward #lord henry wotton #basil x dorian #fanfiction #classics #the picture of dorian gray

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writing-in-april · 3 years

Text

Cinematic Coincidences

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader

(Spencer’s POV)- listen I just love his POV lol

Summary: Spencer can’t bring himself to go on another date that’s been set up for him- so he stands his date up. Spence seemingly can’t catch a break and runs into the date he stood up.

A/N: Hey heyyy- here’s my seventh fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April!! This one was requested by @andiebeaword (I added a reference for your love of hallmark movies in this hehe)- this is the original request- I tweaked the characters involved just a small bit lol I accidentally end up defaulting to using the people on the dream team lol- im going to start working in later characters in the show into some stuff in upcoming works (I’m also rewatching the later seasons so that’ll help get me inspired) Im always looking for feedback on my fics or really to talk about anything with my followers so feel free to drop into my inbox- here!! Thanks for reading- y’all have been so sweet 🥰 and hope y’all enjoy!!

Warnings: Insecure Spencer, Getting stood up for on a date, Morgan and Garcia (just the team in general) not really understanding Spencer fully, one tiny sexual innuendo- I think that’s it nothing too bad this time around

Main Masterlist Word Count: 2.4K

This was not what I wanted to be doing today. Garcia had once again inquired about my love life- along with Morgan of course, wanting to find out about all the juicy details. I didn’t know why they continued to ask when it was obvious that my love life was about as exciting as watching paint dry.

I gave my normal response to these types of inquiries, brushing them off without sounding too hurtful. Unfortunately Garcia would not be satiated by my response, apparently she was now fed up with my dull love life and felt like she needed to be personally involved. Garcia was very near and dear to me, just like Morgan, but I couldn’t deny that this grated my nerves.

“We’ll make you a dating profile too! Maybe you’ll find someone cute to date- or maybe get some?!” Garcia was chipper as usual, with her eyebrows wiggling at her suggestion that I should have a one night stand. All that I felt from her words was dread.

The dangers of online dating swirled in my mind and I tried to protest, it came out more like a stammer though. Morgan then patted me on the back and piped up, giving his own opinion, “Yeah- I think it’ll be good for you, pretty boy.”

Again I wanted to protest, beginning to stammer out another reason why I didn’t think it was a good idea. I sighed heavily when I was cut off again, by Morgan and Garcia already planning on what pictures they were going to upload of me. At least I knew that they had my best interests at heart, they wanted me to be happy with someone- or get some like Garcia had mentioned earlier. Still, it didn’t change the fact that there was no way I’d ever want to go willingly on a date with someone I had met on the internet.

—-

My thoughts had not changed since Morgan and Garcia had set up the dating profile for me. There hadn’t been any person I had been on a date with that had successfully been able to keep me interested beyond a few conversations.

“No luck with the online dating?” Morgan had teased when I had walked in with my head held low. This endeavor was just making me realize how picky and undesirable I was. Why couldn’t I just find someone pretty and be happy with it?

Morgan’s face twisted from a smile into a frown when I didn’t answer him, making my way silently to my desk.

For the rest of the day the team tiptoed around me, sensing my sadness. There was part of me that was angry at them for thinking that I couldn’t handle a few bad dates. But, they were right. I couldn’t handle the sting of rejection or the disappointment of a date that didn’t live up to my expectations.

Emily always seemed to know how to cheer me up, so I did attempt some small conversation in the break room while we were both getting our coffee. She never gave me any pity like the others who just flashed me sad looks, unwilling to make any effort to help- or like Garcia and Morgan, they helped in the wrong way even if their intentions were pure.

Her solution to my problem did make my ears perk up a bit, “Hey- I saw that you’ve been down and that it’s been about the online dating Morgan and Garcia made you get into.” I nodded my head in confirmation then gesturing for her to continue while I poured copious amounts of sugar into my drink. Emily opted for mostly cream instead of sugar, stirring her coffee a little, then continuing her thought,”I wondered how you would feel about being set up on a blind date. It’s someone I know so maybe that would make you feel better about going on it? Instead of having to deal with technology that I know you despise.”

Emily had a way of seeing exactly how I was feeling and not just spitting out facts without solutions like the others. Her solution made me nervous of course, there would probably never be a date that I wouldn’t be nervous for. However, this option made me feel a little bit more hopeful about my prospects in the dating pool. It was someone that she knew and trusted enough to suggest them as a potential match for a coworker. Emily didn’t trust easy, I could trust her judgment on this despite my nerves.

I gulped down a large sip of my overly sweetened coffee, collecting my thoughts before then answering, “Alright- I’ll go.”

—

The date that I was supposed to go on was at a quaint cafe near work. Emily had even made the effort to make sure that I had been there before so I might be more comfortable.

At first I had been extremely excited for the date, even going so far as to pick out my outfit. I would have worn my purple button up, that was the one I got the most compliments in. Emily had told me some stuff that my date was interested in so I made sure to brush up on my knowledge by reading about the topics. I had even called back to the restaurant menu in my mind, preparing myself by picking out what I wanted beforehand. On one of my dates set up through the dating app I had stumbled on my choice for food, making the person unnecessarily snappy. I had to cover all my bases to minimize potential awkwardness on my part.

Self doubt began to creep in after I had gotten fully dressed. I had gotten ready way too early in anticipation for the date, now sitting on my couch tapping my foot impatiently. I looked at my watch that sat over my long sleeves watching the clock tick closer and closed to when I was supposed to leave.

Biting my lip in worry, my mind couldn’t help but wander over into my self doubts. I couldn’t help but ask myself why anyone would want to date someone as tall and lanky as me- or why would someone want to go on a date with someone that couldn’t keep their mouth shut about random topics that no one cared about.

My self doubt swallowed any confidence that I had begun to build up in preparation for the date. I knew Emily would be furious with me tomorrow when I went into work, I didn’t want her to find out through her friend though. Deciding to get it over with I pulled out the phone I never used and texted her, telling her that I wasn’t coming. I told her to give my regrets to my date, who at this point was probably waiting patiently for me at the cafe. Sighing in defeat I then retreated into my bedroom again, crawling under my covers.

——

Emily hadn’t been furious with me- well that was a lie, at first she had stomped up to me the next morning to chew me out. She became more disappointed than anything when she found out my reasonings. She hadn’t mentioned anything about how the person I was supposed to be going on the blind date with felt. Not that I really wanted to hear about it, it would only make me feel worse. All I got from her was a small remark mumbled under her breath, “Idiots- the both of you…”

For the next few weeks I tried in vain to push thoughts of my failed blind date out of my head. I had avoided going in the general direction of the cafe. Luckily I took the metro everyday to work otherwise I’d have to drive by it every day, and I already hated driving.

I was at the bookstore for used booksjust around the corner from the cafe that was supposed to hold my date a few weeks ago. This was the closest I dared to go near it in a while. Since then I hadn’t been able to go there anymore, even though I loved the coffee there. Immense guilt had wormed its way into my brain when I had tried to order something there a week ago. All I had done was stammer at the cashier before bolting out of there, just another addition on the list of embarrassing things that I’ve done in my life.

I was flipping through an old edition of pride and prejudice out of boredom, there hadn’t been anything interesting stocked on the shelves since I had last been here. Then a voice piped up through the air that had a bit of dust flying through it,

“Excuse me, sir- if you’re still looking at that book would you mind if I looked at the ones on the shelf behind you?”

It took me a second before I realized the person was talking to me. I then removed my eyes from the book to blink up at them a few times, then registering what they had said to me and moved out of the way.

Their eyes were still glued to mine, the bookshelf behind me that they had wanted to look at forgotten. An awkward chuckle was all we both could seem to manage as we looked each other up and down. Emily had shown me a picture on her phone of my date so I would have been able to spot them at the restaurant. My cheeks flushed hard once I realized who was standing before me. There was no doubt who this was, the date I had stood up the night before.

Silence then fell between us and not the pleasant kind, it was most definitely awkward. I couldn’t imagine how they must have been feeling after I hadn’t shown up last night. They probably had sat

“Um- hi…” They spoke hesitantly, wringing their fingers in trepidation. My jaw opened and closed a few times, trying to come up with anything to say.

“Hi!” Was all I could manage to squeak out, plus a small wave in their direction.

They wrung their fingers a few more times, seemingly trying to come up with a response. I was surprised they hadn’t hit me with one of the books near them out of anger. It would be a normal response to being stood up for a date, the trepidation and silence just served to unnerve me further. Eventually they spoke again, saving me from anymore awkward silence which in my opinion was worse than awkward conversation, “Um- sorry for um, standing you up uh- a few weeks ago.”

That made my eyes bug out of my head- they had done the exact same thing as I had? Insecurity soon swept in, trying to tell me exactly why they had not shown up without hearing their side of the story. I looked down at the book I was holding, reading a few words for a moment of reprieve. Taking a deep breath I asked quietly, not admitting to my own faults yet, “W-why did you um- not go? If you don’t mind me asking…”

A deep sigh was what I got at first, one that obviously had a lot of stress in it. They then did provide me with an explanation, despite their obvious embarrassment, Well- It had nothing to do with you- a simple explanation would be saying it was my insecurity’s fault.”

Not that I would ever want anyone to feel insecure, but I would admit that them saying that did make my own stress melt away. They had not gone for almost the exact same reasons that me. I decided to be upfront, giving them my own reasoning- though I wasn’t even sure they realized that I hadn’t gone as well. “I don’t know if Emily told you, but I um- stood you up as well. It wasn’t because of anything bad! It was really for the same reason as you.”

They then broke out into giggles after they had processed my words for a second, which were much more relaxed than the awkward ones from before. I didn’t blame them, it was a pretty funny coincidence that we’d both stand each other up only to run into each other not knowing what we had done.

“I feel like we’re in one of those cheesy Hallmark movies right now…” Their comparison only confused me, I had no clue what they were talking about.

“What’s a Hallmark movie?” More giggles came from them at my questioning, though for once I didn’t feel like I was being laughed at. I felt like they were laughing at the whole situation, not at me specifically like so many people had often done. Also, I couldn’t help but admit to myself that their giggle was very cute.

Once their giggles had subsided a little they asked me something that almost no one would ask the person that had stood them up, “Maybe I could tell you over a coffee? If you want to of course- Emily told me about how much sugar you like in it.”

My interest was peaked, making me further regret having stood them up in the first place. Though I tried to push that thought out of the way considering we had both done the same thing. It was time to let that go so I could go on a date with them finally. Seeing them in person and being able to glimpse part of their personality made me want to know more.

“Alright- sure.” I set down the book I had been passively reading, now completely disinterested in it. There was something far more interesting in front of me now compared to a classic book I had read over ten times.

We both walked around the corner, to the cafe that we had originally had our date scheduled at. Conversation flowed easily between us, showing me that Emily had been totally right to set us up initially. Her words now made sense to me, we were both a couple of idiots.

We then got our coffee, which had been much smoother of a transaction compared to the last time I had been here. I took note of how much sugar and cream they liked, just in case we were going to do this again. Sitting down at the closest booth I then asked, “So tell me about Hallmark movies?”

Ask Me Anything

—-

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littledrummeraussie · 3 years

Text

we’d fall from grace.

Ashton Irwin x assistant stylist!reader

part 2 of if these walls could talk | read part 1

story masterlist | general masterlist

word count: 3710

This was probably my most requested “we need a part 2!” story, and you know what - here we go! Hope I’m not gonna disappoint anyone! ❤️

warnings: flirting & teasing. mentiones of previous sexual encounter. sex with protection. tour bus & bunk bed sex. almost getting caught. female receiving oral. and a big load of angst to finish it up.

- - - - -

You could still feel Ashton’s touch on your arm where he grabbed you after their show was over, see the excitement in those hazel eyes as he tried to pull you with himself, ready to go back and finally come up with his post-show ritual. But time wasn’t on your side. Before he could take another step you needed to pull back, telling him that everyone was running late and he needed to be up on their bus in the next 10 minutes. Ashton rolled his eyes, grumbling something colourful under his breath as he changed directions to grab his stuff.

“Don’t forget your boxers,” you made one last fleeting comment, referring back to your little shared moment in the back room; Ashton was almost out of the door to go back to the dressing room and you needed to remind him that he left his underwear right next to his bath tub.

“But they are wet,” you could still hear the pout in his voice as he caught them when you threw them at him. Now he only flashed you a grin, clearly remembering your answer.

“So am I.”

“You could bring them for me next time,” he winked at you, flirt lacing his voice. “Just like you did with my towel.”

“In your dreams, Irwin,” you returned his teasing, only the two of you knowing the double meaning of your words.

An hour or two has gone by since then, and you were left with your thoughts and the memory of Ashton’s body pressed against your side as you’ve made him come – the sounds of his pleasure still ringing in your ears. The bus was mostly quiet as it made its way to your next stop, and you snuggled up in your bunk with your sketchbook, wanting to work on some ideas you’ve been playing around with, but mostly just wanting to forget about Ashton. You could feel your cheeks heat up as you recalled his words, the touch of his skin, how his hair felt between your fingers, how his lips were soft but his kisses hard. In the end you needed to realize that none of your actual ideas made it on paper, but instead you came up with a whole line of outfits for the man himself, and you sighed, tucking the book back under your pillow.

One can’t just forget about Ashton Irwin.

Your phone buzzed next to your elbow and you slowly picked it up, not knowing who would bother with sending you a text at this time. But the name that flashed across the screen made you bite your lip, and you knew you couldn’t resist answering him. The little annoyed face emoji you’ve put next to Ashton’s name made you giggle, the feeling quickly turning into something else after your adventure with him.

Ashton: Hey, are you still up?

Y/N: …maybe.

Ashton: …did I wake you?

Y/N: Can’t really sleep until we don’t stop for something.

Y/N: Not a big fan of sleeping on buses.

Ashton: You get used to it after some time.

Y/N: I prefer my own bed, but thank you for your input.

Ashton: What about my bed? 😉

You needed to put the phone face down next to you, cheeks turning hot at the offer. He was on the other bus with the guys, maybe chilling with them in the front or doing something stupid that band members usually do at this time, yet even like this he was able to turn you into a hot mess. The thought of crawling into his bed and touching him again made you bury your face in your pillow. There was nothing innocent about his offer – and there was nothing innocent about your thoughts either. Not since you’ve walked in on him naked and gave him a handjob. Not since he’d told you that he got off on fantasies of you every night.

Another quick buzzing sound broke the silence of your bunk, then another. Maybe you’ve been quiet for too long and Ashton thought he went too far.

Ashton: I can’t sleep either.

Ashton: Can’t stop thinking about you or what we did.

Ashton: Wish we had time to do more.

Y/N: You still have your dreams, Irwin. Solve that problem. 🙃

Ashton: I’ve thought you were the problem solver. 😘

Y/N: I can’t really do anything about it from here. You’re kinda on the other bus.

Y/N: …and I’m still wearing clothes.

Ashton: Not in my head. 😉

A picture popped up under the texts, Ashton snuggled up in his bunk with tousled hair and pursed lips, a smile clearly playing at the corner of his mouth, earbuds tucked in his ears.

Ashton: I could call you and talk your ears off until you fall asleep?

Y/N: But where’s the fun in that? 😊

Y/N: Tell me about the song you’re listening to.

Y/N: Wanna know what’s playing while you fantasize about me.

Y/N: …hope it’s not Calum singing…

Ashton: Don’t ruin the mood!

Ashton: Fuck. Wish you were here so I could shut your smart mouth with my own.

Y/N: That’s a very poetic way of telling me you want to kiss me again…

Ashton: Not just kiss you.

Ashton: Want you in every way. Every kiss, every sound, every touch. Everything.

Ashton: You’re all I can think about.

Y/N: This might end up being the longest night of all…

Y/N: You’re close… but still not close enough…

That was the point when Ashton started sending you songs sharing whatever he was listening to, and if you closed your eyes it almost felt like you could curl up against him, sharing his earbuds as you both got lost in the music, ready to fall asleep. It was so easy to pretend, so easy to imagine him there with you. If only the two of you were on the same bus.

There was a light knock on the side of your bunk, and you pulled back the curtains, coming face to face with Kat. You could hear commotion from the front, people talking over each other as they got off the bus and you realized that you’ve stopped moving.

“Guys called over from the other bus that they are stopping at a 24/7, and we did too. Just wanted to ask if you need something? Maybe some of those snacks you like so much?”

“That would be great, thanks Kat.”

“Try and get some rest, okay? I know you can’t fall asleep on a moving bus,” she nodded, fingers tugging on the curtain. “This is your chance to catch some Z’s. I think we’ll be here for 30 minutes or so, should give you plenty of time.”

“Alright mama, I get it,” you laughed, burrowing against your pillow. “Night, Kat!”

“Night, Y/N! See you in the morning.”

You were ready to turn back around and finally get the sleep you’ve been craving since settling in your bunk, but then you felt it again. Your phone started buzzing next to you, and it took you a second to realize that these were not text messages, but an actual call. Ashton’s name was flashing across the screen, and you quickly picked it up, not wanting to miss your chance at hearing his voice.

“Where are you?” his voice was a whisper, his tone almost impatient. “Everyone went to the store and I didn’t see you leave the bus!”

“I’m still up? Trying to get some sleep,” you furrowed your eyebrows, clearly not following what he wanted.

“Fucking hell, Y/N,” he groaned, a small laugh following. “Get your cute ass over here before anyone comes back! Hurry!”

With that the call got disconnected, and in a second you scrambled out of your bed, pulling the curtains back so it looked like you were sleeping. When you were sure no one was around you quickly jumped off the bus, eyes searching for the other one. Then it caught your attention, a person waving at you frantically, and you sprinted over to the bus parked just a little bit away from yours. Ashton curled his arms around your waist, dragging you up the stairs and into the small living area, his lips already on yours as he pushed you against a wall.

“Damn, you look sexy in our crew hoodie,” he grinned when he finally pulled back, fingers curling into the hem of the fabric.

“It’s really comfy to sleep in,” you stroked the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging him back for another kiss.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve been doing it too,” Ashton sucked on your bottom lip, knocking his forehead against yours. “But now I just really want to take it off you.”

He grabbed your hand, quickly leading you to the back of the bus and before you knew it Ashton already pushed you down on the couch, legs on both sides of your waist as he wrestled off his hoodie and shirt, tossing them on the floor. With elbows resting next to your head he leaned forward, lips crashing together again, his fingers diving into your hair to angle your head towards the kiss. You squeezed his shoulders and biceps, wanting to pull him even closer and melt against his body, get rid of your clothes and just feel him. The memory wasn’t enough anymore – not when he was right above you, sweatpants riding so low on his hips that you could have easily slipped them off of him.

Ashton’s fingers curled into your hoodie again, working it upwards until he needed to pull away to get it off you. He groaned loudly when he saw you wearing only a top, your hard nipples straining against the thin fabric. He nuzzled his face against your skin, nose lightly skimming the open neckline of the top before he closed his lips around one of your nipples, sucking it into his mouth through your shirt. A moan finally broke out of you, gripping his curls between your fingers as he teased you with his tongue and teeth, his other hand slipping under your shirt to tweak your other nipple.

“That’s exactly how I’ve imagined you,” he pressed open mouthed kisses against your throat, sucking a quick mark into your skin where the hoodie would cover it. “So responsive and sounding like a fucking dream.”

“What’s your favourite fantasy?” your nails scratched the top of his shoulders, leaving faint red marks on his skin. “Other than getting me naked?”

An almost wolfish grin pulled at his lips as he pulled off your shoes and dropped them next to the couch, your legging quickly following. His palms cupped your ass cheeks and squeezed them before pushing his shoulders under your knees, and your legs spread involuntarily as he kissed the soft skin of your thighs, dangerously close to your pussy.

“Eating you out,” his eyes bore into yours as he pressed his lips against the wet spot on your panties, quickly licking over it. “Fuck, you taste amazing!”

“Ash, fuck–” your hips lifted to get closer to his mouth, and he chuckled, tugging your soaked panties to the side.

“Soon, baby,” and with that he wrapped his lips around your clit, lapping at it quickly.

You needed to put both hands on your mouth to keep your sounds at bay, not wanting anyone finding out about the two of you – what Ashton was doing between your legs was only for you to know. He groaned against your skin, tongue licking between your folds as his eyes searched you, and you were ready to combust just from this. Fingertips teased against your hole as Ashton kissed your stomach, sucking on the skin to give you another hickey, his knuckles slowly slipping inside. He rutted his hips against the couch as he licked at your pussy lips, fingers already searching for that one spot that would make you go crazy.

Laughter and shouts flew across the parking lot and you whined, trying to push Ashton away from you, making him groan. He swiped his fingers through his hair, brushing it away from his forehead as he kneeled up, listening to the sounds getting closer.

“I can’t be seen here,” you reached for your clothes, ready to tug them back up and somehow make it off the bus in record time.

“I’m not letting you go,” he caught you around the waist, motioning you towards his bunk. “Quick!”

His arms were already full with all your discarded clothes, throwing them at the end of his bed as he scrambled after you, pulling the curtains closed behind himself. He was pressed against your back as both of you listened to the sounds, your heart pounding in your chest from possibly getting caught. A minute passed, maybe two, but when no one came up on the bus Ashton let out a sigh, stifling it against your neck, the sensation making you shiver from head to toe.

“I can’t wait anymore,” his lips skimmed against the back of your neck, whispering his words on your skin. “Gonna lose my sanity if I can’t have you.”

“We need to be quick,” biting your lips you moved your hand back, reaching for his hard dick that’s been pressing against your ass for minutes now, squeezing it through his sweats.

“Then we better get to it,” he reached under his pillow for a condom, pushing his pants down to free himself.

He pulled your hips back to his, tugging on your panties until you kicked them off, then let your body melt against his, burrowing close to each other in the small space of his bunk. Ashton pushed his cock between your thighs, stroking it between your folds until he got coated in your wetness, then wrapped his arms around you, keeping you still as he started pushing inside. His face was in your hair, his small sounds making you dizzy as you took him inch by inch, the stretch already building the pleasure in the pit of your stomach.

“God, you really are soaking wet,” he nipped the shell of your ear, pulling out just to push back in deeper. “Taking me so fuckin’ good.”

“Don’t hold back,” you breathed, reaching for his hand to squeeze his fingers. “I can take it. I want it. I want you.”

“Definitely better than my fantasies,” he pressed a kiss against your jaw, pulling you back on his cock as he moved his hips, quickly fucking into you.

The air was hot around you, your skin already slightly sweaty and sticking against Ashton’s as he held you close, hands finding their place on your chest and squeezing your breasts as he pounded into you. He shifted on the bed and pulled you with himself, changing the angle of his thrust and drawing out another set of needy sounds from you.

“Yeah, that’s it baby, you sound so hot,” he pulled your face to his, lips gliding messily against the other’s, his thrusts getting quicker. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come again?”

“Gotta solve this problem too, yeah,” you let out a giggle, kissing his chin as you moaned against his skin. “Fuck me, Ash, harder!”

Ashton growled, ready to pound you into oblivion when someone started climbing up the stairs at the front, and he stilled, palm pressing against your mouth to keep you quiet. His breathing was heavy in your ear, trying to be silent and keep his composure, hoping that whoever came back won’t bother him now.

“Ash, mate,” Calum’s voice was drawing closer, and you were sure this was the end of it all. “You’re up? Forgot my wallet.”

You could almost feel Ashton rolling his eyes, his face buried in your neck as he waited for Calum to go back to the store.

“I know you’re not sleeping. Do you need me to pick up anything for you?” Calum was still chatting away, and you felt that Ash had enough as he pulled one arm back from around you, just to stick his hand out between the flaps of the curtain, and probably throwing his middle finger up at Calum. “Alright, alright I hear ya, you grumpy fucker!”

He kicked the side of the bunk as he left, and in a few seconds he was gone, making Ashton groan loudly.

“I’m not gonna let him kill the mood,” he grabbed your face to pull you in for another kiss, his hips quickly working back to their previous pace. “Gonna make you cum so hard you’ll see stars.”

“You better do that cause I’m already so close,” you sucked on his bottom lip, pulling his hand between your legs. “Yeah, just like that.”

Ashton circled his thumb around your clit, rubbing it quick and hard as his hips snapped against you, the tip of his cock dragging against your g-spot, and you felt your thighs shake, your pussy clenching around him as you finally reached your peak. He kissed your moans away, pumping into you quickly as he chased his own orgasm, and soon you felt his body tense, pulling you close as he came with a groan, his cock twitching inside you as he filled the condom with his cum.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” he smeared kisses on your lips and cheeks, hair all over the place and tickling your face as he burrowed close to you. “So fucking incredible.”

“I don’t think I can move,” you let out a giggle, pressing sweet kisses against his lips. “Guess I did see the stars.”

“Come ‘ere,” he shifted to give you more space, pulling you close and tucking your head under his chin. “Just wanna hold you close.”

“I can’t stay, you know,” your fingers lightly ran up and down on his side, kissing his collarbone. “But I really can’t feel my legs.”

“It was that good, huh?” he grinned, squeezing your hips as he reached for the blanket.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you closed your eyes, pressing even closer to him. “Wake me in 5 minutes, okay?”

“I will, I promise.”

Something wasn’t right – you felt like you’ve forgotten something, and you knew it’s gonna get you into trouble. But you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was that. And you had a slight feeling that you shouldn’t care. Not when you were tucked against Ashton’s chest, his body warm against yours, hot breath tickling your skin as his lips pressed against your temple, his eyes beautiful in the morning light filtering through the curtains.

Morning. Ashton. Ashton, who was still very much naked. You were in his bunk. In his bunk only wearing a top. You had sex last night. In his bunk. On their bus. You were still on their bus and you slept through the night. You didn’t go back to your bed. Or your own bus. You had sex with Ashton and you were still here, even though…

“You didn’t wake me up!” you hissed, already pulling away from Ashton. “Fuck, you’ve told me you’re gonna wake me up!”

“You fell asleep and I didn’t have the heart,” he propped himself up on his elbow, reaching for your hand. “Hey, it’s fine!”

“It’s not fine,” you were frantically moving around in the small space, looking through the bedding to find your own clothes. “I should have been back in my bunk by the time they got back! Kat will be looking for me, and…”

“She knows you’re here,” Ashton added and you felt your ears start ringing, your head going dizzy. “I’ve sent her a text that you’re with me and that you fell asleep.”

“Fuck, Ashton, I only asked one thing from you!” you tugged on your hoodie, still looking around. “Shoes. Where are my shoes?”

“Are you looking for these…?”

The curtain was drawn back and you saw Calum holding up your sneakers, a sympathetic look on his face. You felt heat crawl up your neck as you took them away from him, pulling those on as well.

“Y/N, wait,” Ashton was reaching for his own clothes as you slipped out of his bunk. “Fuck, no, wait!”

You didn’t spare him another second, already feeling shame take over you as you passed Calum then Michael and Luke in the front of the bus. They acted like they didn’t see you, like they didn’t know why you were sleeping in Ashton’s bunk, but you knew it was clear as day. The bus was already parked at the venue, you’ve probably arrived just a few minutes ago, and as you stepped off the bus you could already see the rest of the crew packing. You pulled on the neck of your hoodie, hoping it hid the hickeys Ashton has left on your skin.

“Y/N–” Ashton suddenly jumped down from the bus, only wearing his sweatpants, another hoodie in his hand. “Y/N, wait–”

It felt like cold water was dumped on you as you realized that the one you were wearing was Ashton’s hoodie, the sweater so big on you that it definitely showed all the marks on your neck and the one in his hands… well, yours.

“Thanks for nothing,” you whispered, quickly tugging the fabric out of his hand.

“No, Y/N, I– I didn’t mean it,” Ashton fumbled around with his words, and you rolled your eyes, hoping the tears won’t come.

“Of course you didn’t. Just as you didn’t want to see me taking my walk of shame back to my own bus,” you crossed your arms over your chest, starting to finally go back.

“Hey, come here,” you felt someone step next to you and wrap their arm around your waist, and you felt a sob escape you as you realized it was Kat. “Don’t you have better things to do?! Everyone go back to work!”

You felt people staring at you for another moment before they scrambled back to their work. There was a loud thump coming from behind you and you were sure Ashton was kicking something, probably the tire of the bus, cursing loudly. Before you made it up to your bus with Kat you’ve heard one last comment – this time from Calum, addressed to Ashton.

“You know… fucking her and screwing with her are two very, very different things.”

- - - - -

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#ashton irwin #ashton irwin x reader #ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin angst #ashton irwin fanfiction #fiction time #afic: if these walls could talk #series: if these walls could talk

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blossom-hwa · 3 years

Text

fashion major!kevin

ANYWAY THERE WAS LIKE ONE PERSON WHO CALLED FOR A FASHION MAJOR KEVIN SPINOFF OF THE COLLEGE MODEL JUYEON AU I JUST POSTED (linked below) anyway! hope you enjoy, please reblog if you did, and check out my other dumb overly long blurbs in the stream of idiocy tag on my blog <3

pairing: kevin x gender neutral!reader

wc: 2.5k

genre: fluff, university!au

triggers: cursing

college model!juyeon

TBZ Scenarios Masterlist | TBZ Drabbles Masterlist

kevin moon is known on campus for two things: 1. his bright personality literally everyone loves him and if you don’t you’re jealous of him like sorry not sorry i don’t make the rules you know i’m right and 2. his.... unorthodox fashion sense. like eric thought his snake patterned shit was weird as hell?? but there are weirder things in kevin’s closet i swear to you. anyway this unorthodox style is what got him accepted into the fashion program at the university and even though there are a few assholes who stick their noses up at kevin’s work the vast majority of people are cool w his outfits even if they personally wouldn’t wear them and kevin is v well-liked in his major and on campus in general bc he knows everyone and is nice and polite and really a v cool person to be around when he’s not being a fucking idiot

and on campus there are fashion shows a few times every semester to show off the fashion majors’ work, and let’s just say that this university if p well know for its fashion major so some famous people sometimes come along to these events so EVERY TIME a fashion show rolls around the fashion majors get nervous as FUCK and there’s a lot of speculation on who will get noticed and whatever and everyone is secretive about what they’re working on and just. everyone goes fucking haywire and kevin is always v happy when the stress winds down after a show

(no one knows it but kevin has gotten offers from several companies to work with them after he graduates. he hasn’t told anyone except a few friends like juyeon/jacob and his family)

anyway you are also a fashion major who secretly really admires kevin’s stuff?? like you just think he’s so daring and creative and all of his work is absolutely amazing even if it’s a little weird and honestly you don’t even feel overshadowed by his talent and hard work you just feel in awe that you can be in his presence at all. you’re p sure kevin has no idea who you are bc even though you have a lot of the same classes you’re always too shy to sit or work near him bc even though he seems so nice and approachable he’s also just.... god he’s so good

BUT THEN. one of your professors announces that for the next fashion show they’ll be modeling projects that he’s assigning right now. which is weird asf bc usually you’ll all take your best clothing and like fix it or tweak it for the next show, like sometimes people will make something completely from scratch but that’s nerve-wracking and not many people do it unless they’re in a real pinch but it gets even WEIRDER bc this is not a regularly scheduled fashion event?? it’s like a smaller event apparently that they’ve organized just for this project AND THE WEIRDNESS TAKES THE CAKE when your professor says that YOU ARE GOING TO BE THE MODELS. YOU ALL ARE GOING TO PICK SOMEONE IN THE CLASS TO MAKE CLOTHES FOR AND THEY WILL MODEL YOUR OUTFIT

and this SENDS EVERYONE FREAKING THE FUCK OUT??? bc oh god you can’t rely on the models you’ve been using all semester now??? and you have to make flattering clothes for someone you might not even know v well and it’s just. holy fuck holy fuck holy FUCK

meanwhile you already know who you want to create for (/ahem kevin moon/) but you’re also chicken so like??? you’re just sitting in your seat looking over at him but not saying anything until your friend chanhee just pushes you out of your seat in kevin’s direction and is like GO ASK HIM BEFORE YOU LOSE THIS CHANCE and you’re like JESUS FUCKING CHRIST CHANHEE but kevin’s noticed your movement and he’s looking over with a smile on his face and you’re like jfc i can’t do this but chanhee shoves you again and so you kinda smile (you really hope it looks like a smile) and your voice is LITERALLY shaking when you go over and ask if it would be ok to use him as a model for this assignment and he’s like.... oh my god yes

because what YOU don’t know is that kevin has been ogling your designs all year?? like he enjoys his own style and is comfortable in it but he loves your work as in LOVES IT. he thinks your designs are absolutely flawless and original and you combine styles so effortlessly that he just wants to look into your brain when you come up with ideas bc what the fuck?? you may have different styles but kevin knows how to admire art AND YOUR DESIGNS ARE ART.

so you’re reeling a day later bc now you have kevin moon’s number and he has yours and he’s now texting you on when you think you’ll have the first preliminary designs ready and when you can meet up so you can get each other’s measurements and all that and when you eventually meet up your hands are shaking so much that you can barely take his measurements and kevin is screeching in his mind as well bc oh my god you’re going to model his clothes YOU’RE GOING TO MODEL HIS CLOTHES

most people are again being secretive about their designs and even though someone in their class is modeling for them this time so there’s a bit less secrecy they’re still working alone so you get a shock when kevin asks if you want to coordinate your outfits. like work on designs together and maybe make something that matches a little though ofc retaining your own styles and you just shriek when you get the text and poor childhood best friend younghoon spills his coffee (you have been friends since basically birth and there are no romantic feelings whatsoever ok it’s strictly platonic like you watched younghoon vomit after eating too much bread when you were like 10 and he watched you get tangled up in a soccer net when you were 13 there are no romantic feelings stemming from any of that)

needless to say you reply yes yes ye sYES and kevin is grinning so wide on the other end that juyeon wonders if he’s gone slightly insane (which he has but we’re not gonna dwell on that) and both of you show up to the work rooms nervous as all hell (i’m not a fashion major i have no fashion sense i still think t-shirts/leggings are the way to go so idk how any of this works do not sue me) but kevin has a natural ability to defuse any tension in the room so within minutes you’re comfortable and laughing with him and wondering why you were so scared to approach him before and THEN YOU’RE REMINDED WHY when he shows you his design for you because... oh god.... it’s unbelievable. like it has a distinctly kevin feel to it but he’s clearly been paying attention to what you wear and what you design because it’s something you would like to wear and something you even think you could look good in. holy shit

and you just blurt out like kevin what the fuck this is so good did you like stalk my designs or some shit?? and you mean it as a joke ofc but kevin just goes beet red and mumbles something about how he really likes your work and how it’s so sharply elegant but also insanely creative and you’re just. open-mouthed like. dude i’m in love with your work too oh my god i’m gonna cry my fashion idol just said he likes my designs i’m gonna screaM

kevin stops you from screaming though even though he also feels like he’s gonna scream and this is the start of a very productive partnership between the two of you like most of the fashion majors are friendly despite the competition but you and kevin are on a whole other level?? and you start hanging out more and more often even when you’ve finished designing and are actually sewing (you ask him if this part can be secret bc you want to add a few things as a surprise - he ofc says yes and winks and tells you he has things he wants to add too which just makes you want to scream out of excitement)

and it’s a week before fashion show day and you and kevin are finished with putting together the designs and you’re excited as all hell and kevin is literally about to burst from his own skin and you insist that he goes first and when he pulls the outfit from the bag you’re just. in absolute awe. the colors match the design you made, it looks like it’ll fit, and even though it screams kevin moon it also has a distinct vibe from your own fashion style and you just yell KEVIN MOON YOU GENIUS as you snatch it from him and go change

(you don’t know obviously but kevin is blushing like a tomato while waiting for you to finish changing)

it fits almost perfectly, kevin marks a few places to fix and is debating whether or not to compliment you bc??? that sounds like he’s complimenting his own work and that’s egocentric as hell but then you say something like does it look fine and he just blurts out more than fine. you look great

AND YOU’RE SO FLUSTERED THAT YOU ALL BUT THROW YOUR OWN BAG AT KEVIN and are like GO CHANGE

so he takes out the clothes and goes silent and you’re like.... oh my god does he hate it i mean we worked on the designs together and he said he liked it then but what if he changed his mind but then he looks at you and his eyes are sparkling and he’s like y/n this is perfect. literally perfect and he rushes to go get changed and when he comes out your eyes are bugging out of your head bc holy hell you pictured kevin in these clothes obviously since they were made for him but he looks so much better than you ever imagined

and then you blurt out something like holy shit you look beautiful

and kevin blushes again

anyway you both take your measurements and run out and then the day of the fashion show rolls around and both of you are freaking out backstage but the instant you two go on it’s like you both are literal gods bc you feel so confident in each other’s clothing and the crowd can feel it THEY CAN FUCKING FEEL IT and they go nuts when you two walk out!!! and even though it isn’t like a huge major fashion show, it’s just for this one project that your professors cooked up, you and kevin are both beaming like the sun when it’s over despite the fact that it wasn’t an important event bc holy shit you two had fun and everyone’s complimenting your clothing and it’s great it’s just great

finally all the chaos is over and the clothes have been put away and the makeup removed and you and kevin are now standing outside the venue in a kind of stunned silence that all of it’s over. it’s all over. and then you suddenly thrust out the clothes you made that kevin wore and tell him to keep it. it’s a present. and kevin takes it but he also forces you to take the outfit he made for you. and then there’s silence again

but if there’s anything you’ve gained over the past few weeks it’s a bit of courage. courage that let you talk to kevin, courage that let you design clothes for him, courage that let you become friends (and maybe something more) with him. you’ve also learned that kevin is a massive dork and a lovely human being and you’d really love to at least stay in contact so in that the moment you smile and say ‘if i asked you on a date, would you wear that outfit?’

poor kevin looks like he’s about to have a fucking aneurysm and you start to lose confidence but then he’s nodding like there’s no tomorrow like yes ye sYE S OH MY GOD YE S and omg you now have a boyfriend whom you like very very much and kevin has a partner whom he likes very very much

you two may not be a pda couple but you ARE that couple that matches every outfit they wear, you make jewelry and accessories for each other and also make each other clothes every so often. everyone is jealous of your combined fashion sense bc even though the outfits might look outrageous, you two both manage to pull them off and look fabulous at it, but also they can’t even be that jealous bc you two are the sweetest couple and are absolutely lovely

both of you do wear the outfits you made for that show on your first date which is to like a musical or smth bc theatre kid kevin is something you can pry out of my cold dead hands and everyone’s staring but you two are in your own little world and it’s amazing

kevin admits at one point that he was afraid to ask you out bc he thought younghoon was your boyfriend and you just snort and tell him everything stupid younghoon’s done and by the end younghoon is done with you, kevin is about to vomit he’s laughing so hard, and you are smirking like no tomorrow

for the end of year fashion show you and kevin fix up and accessorize the outfits you two made for the show that brought you two together and there is absolutely no surprise that several different fashion companies scout both of you (and a couple modeling agencies too since you and kevin decided to model your own clothing again - younghoon whines that you’ve replaced him but you shut him up with chocolate bread)

kevin’s a sucker for romance (you CANNOT tell me this isn't true) so your first kiss is on the roof of the fashion building at sunset when kevin does the cheesy thing where he says you look more beautiful the view and you almost slap him but you’re laughing so hard and kevin’s cackling and somehow it turns into a kiss

you are a dork and kevin is even more of a dork and it just works out beautifully bc you’re so absolutely in love that it makes people fake vomit from the sides (looking at chanhee right here) but it’s also really sweet in that you two trust each other completely and would do absolutely anything for the other except murder. kevin made that v clear but really only bc blood would stain his clothing and he doesn’t need that. you agree wholeheartedly (younghoon/juyeon are looking from the sides like what the fuck is this couple do they need help and you two are like just go away and let us be the weird couple we are ok). the conversation ends in a v soft v sweet kiss and just. ik i said it with juyeon but kevin moon is also best bf ever ok you cannot convince me otherwise.

and that’s how it goes :)

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for this weird-ass couple)

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judediangelo75 · 3 years

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Claws To Wings

Welcome one and all~

I did say I was going to be working on the Talith lore, so here’s another installment of that. So I did some tweaking to the storyline that Jam City had. So the first Valentine’s Day happened in 4th year instead of 5th (because you can unlock I think both Valentine’s Day TLSQs in the same year and it didn’t make too much sense to me).

Plus there are future true events that happen in 6th year, if you’re already familiar with the Without You/The Man Behind the Necklace series than you already know. During that time, Judith and Talbott are together and have been for quite some time. But before that, they have been pining after each other for years.

In my first story, “The Scent of Love to the Heart of a Loner Poet”, Talbott is coming to realizing how deep his feelings were for Judith (whose been crushing on him since 3rd year). Between then and now, those feelings have grown and they’ve been dancing around each other.

There’s gonna be some details here that are definitely gonna be new (because it’s part of a super old character reference I created for her when I first started posting about HPHM content here).

Anyway, enough rambling. On with the story! Enjoy! 💛

MC friend: David Willows ( @that-scouse-wizard )

---------------------

Talbott stood before his mirror, readjusting his tie for probably the fifth time.

He was trying to soothe his nerves. Why you may ask?

Because of the Ball.

The Valentine’s Day Ball.

In his right mind, he would avoid such social gatherings like the plague. But it’s fair to say he hasn’t been much of his right mind ever since he met her.

Judith Harris.

A Hufflepuff witch with pale gold eyes and a heart of gold to match.

He met her alongside her best friend, David Willows, early third year. When they came to him seeking help on becoming Animagi. He was quick to shut both of them down. While David glared and protested, Judith eased the bullheaded Hufflepuff and gave him a shy sad expression along with an apology for disturbing him.

At the time, he wasn’t sure why he suddenly changed his mind to help the two. But as he got older, he did realize it was because of her.

Something about Judith was familiar. And…

He didn’t like the sad look into those bright eyes…

After the two achieved their forms and helped him find his feather necklace, Judith and Talbott became closer. Even to the point where he followed her out to the cemetery and learned about her dead father, Kendrick, on the anniversary of his death.

That’s when he learned that she was a part of his past.

That single day of his childhood where he made a friend. And developed a bond on a girl who he thought was unique with her long pretty locs and Caribbean accent.

With it being their 5th year, Talbott has gone on two dates with her. Their very first date out by the Black Lake and last year on Valentine’s Day when he learned that he has deeper feelings for her outside of a friendship.

He can still remember the sweet blush on her face after he shyly gave her a kiss on the cheek after gifting her with a heart statue.

Giving her a physical representation of his heart.

He fiddled with the ring she gifted him that day. He always remembers seeing it on a black chain around her neck on occasion. Judith was a person who cares about sentimental value so it’s very likely she gifted him something that has a level importance to her. But he was so stunned when she slipped it onto his finger, and that it fitted perfectly, while announcing that it was her Valentine’s Day gift to him that he forgot to ask…

Maybe today he will. After all, after the Ball, he had a special surprise for her.

Of course, there had to be some last minute changes when he realized a certain Slytherin witch ALSO planned on using the Library and two fairies also got into a squabble. He had at least a day to make the arrangement work and the “Most Powerful Witch at Hogwarts” actually might of done him a favor.

It would be nice to revisit where their tale began.

Talbott sighed, looking over his appearance once more before turning on his heel and leaving his room.

‘I hope she likes what I planned. She’s the only who deserves to see this side of me,’ he thought as he made his way to the Great Hall.

——————

“C’mon Little Tigress! We’re gonna be late,” David huffed, knocking insistently on his best mate’s door.

“I look ridiculous! I’m not going anymore!” Came the stubborn reply from the other side. David rolled his eyes at Judith’s behavior.

They’ve been busting their asses to save the Valentine’s Day Ball from a lonely Madam Pince by using a pining Mr. Filch. However, due to all the planning and finally asking out Merula and Talbott (after Judith finally got over her initial shyness), they didn’t have time to style an outfit for themselves. So they went to the resident Style Wizard for help.

David’s pick was easy.

Judith however… not so much.

It was fair to say that Judith was more than disgruntled as she looked in the reflection for the suit Andre put together.

“You lost your damn mind Egwu if you think I’m going to the Ball like this. I look like a mom in her mid-30s looking to speak to your manager to file a complaint.”

David was on the floor in tears when he saw the offended look on the Ravenclaw wizard’s face. To be fair, the suit plus the pixie cut that Andre magically put together wasn’t doing his best mate any favors.

However, she didn’t step out to show the dress to them. She tried it on, switch back into her normal clothes, and left without much of another word.

Now David was curious to what could be wrong with Andre’s design for her to believe she looked “ridiculous”.

“C’mon Judith. What’s wrong with it? Surely it can’t be as bad as that suit Andre design,” David coaxed.

“…It’s… a lot…” David wasn’t sure what to make of that and they’re gonna be late if Judith kept this up.

“Judith, it’s either you open the door willingly to show me what you’re talking about or I break into your room to see for myself. We don’t have time for this right now,” David huffed. He didn’t want to late with for his dance with Merula.

Silence ensued and David was half considering going through with his threat when the tell tale sound of the door unlocking hit his eyes. David turned the knob and walked in.

He paused when he took in the sight of his little friend.

Judith was wearing a short black dress decorated with pink and red roses. A small slit can be found on her right leg. White 3-inch open toe heels were on her feet. Her usual ear accessories and earrings were present. A familiar dark red lipstick, dark eyeshadow, and black eyeliner made an appearance on her face. Her hair was out from its normal twists, curls and coils tumbling down her back and a bang swept over her right eye.

“David,” Judith mumbled awkwardly as her friend stared at her. That seemed to have broke the spell on the wizard as he shook his head to recollect himself.

“Well I’ll be damned… you look far from ridiculous, Judith. You look beautiful,” David said with a smile. Judith blushed and rubbed the back of her neck.

“You sure? It’s kind of revealing, don’t you think,” she asked. David cocked his head to the side, rescanning the girl from head to toe.

He could see her point, but it wasn’t as bad she probably thought it was.

The dress fitted her like glove, revealing the curves she was developing as a young woman. While the dress did show quite a bit of skin, it was still respectable.

“No, not really. To Bill and Orion, possibly but they’re big brothers who naturally want to keep every perverted wizard away from you. Hell, I may end up breaking someone’s teeth in if they think they can disrespect you like that. But you look beautiful Little Tigress, don’t think otherwise. Talbott would definitely agree with me,” David stated, watching his fellow Hufflepuff blushed at the name of the boy she’s been crushing on since third year.

David has been watching the two dance around each other since Judith admitted that she fancied the Ravenclaw wizard in the Charms classroom when practicing the Memory Charm. He was waiting for the two to finally get together already.

“If you’re done worrying, we still have a Ball to get to,” David said with a raised brow.

“But-EEP!” David already saw the protest in her eyes was quick to walk across the room and throw Judith over his shoulder. He only resorted to such measures when she was be difficult, and she was definitely being difficult.

“C’mon Little Tigress, your bird boy is waiting for you,” he said as he made his way out of her room. Judith spluttered over her words, mainly out of embarrassment at both what he said and the unnecessary position David has put her in.

“DAVID! Put me down, you brute! I’m in a dress for Merlin’s sake,” she protested loudly, wriggling in David’s unforgiving grip.

‘Damn demon lineage...’ she thought with a grimace.

“I'm well aware, we can clean you up when we're there with a spell, I not missing my chance to dance with Merula,” David said breezily. Judith gave up, allowing herself to be carried off like a sack of potatoes.

“Bloody sap... stupid dance,” she grumbled under her breath. David chuckled at her disgruntled mood.

“You’ll thank me for it by the end of the night, trust me,” he said. Judith pouted.

‘Assuming I don’t hide in a dark corner somewhere first...’

“Do that and I'm casting Lumos Maxima so there's nowhere for you to hide,” David said suddenly, nearly scaring the girl half to death. Judith mentally slapped her forehead out of exasperation.

She should know better not to think aloud around David, seeing how they’re both Legilmens.

Damn it...

“Fine,” she huffed. Luckily for her, they finally arrived near the entrance of the Great Hall. David finally set her down, and casting a spell that made her look presentable again.

David offered his arm to her.

“Shall we, Little Tigress?” Judith felt her cheeks heating up at the thought of the person waiting on her inside the Great Hall before letting out a sigh. She took her best mate’s arm.

“I guess we shall...”

-----------------------

Talbott was chatting alongside with Merula, twirling a red rose between his hands when he heard a whistle. Both turned to make out the figures of their dates not too far from them.

David separated himself from his fellow Hufflepuff to walk up to the two. David gave Talbott a smirk and nodded over in Judith’s direction before stealing Merula away.

Talbott only raised a brow at the Hufflepuff wizard’s behavior before walking up to his date for the night. As he stood in front of her, any words that he was going to say to her, died at the tip of his tongue.

Talbott stared at his date, heart racing with a blush on the high points of his cheekbones as he looked at her from her curls to her high heeled shoes. The silence was starting to unnerve the Hufflepuff witch as her long time love interest stared at her without saying anything.

“Y-you clean up quite nicely, Talbott,” she blurted. She mentally smack herself immediately afterwards.

‘When did I become this awkward, goodness…’

However, seem to have done the trick and snapped Talbott back to reality.

“S-sorry, little bird. I-I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I-It’s just that…” Talbott shook his head, trying to focus.

“It’s just that,” Judith echoed slowly, biting her bottom lip. She was worried that David might’ve been wrong and she looked like a fool in front of the boy she had feelings for.

Talbott stepped closer to her, tilting her head up by her chin so she could look at him. He offered a shy smile.

“You look beautiful, Judith. More lovely and temperate than a summer’s day,” He said softly, placing the rose he had behind her left ear. Judith blushed as she felt her heart race at his barely there touch.

“I-I… thank you, Talbott…” The Ravenclaw wizard smiled at the shy response. Behind them the instruments started seemed to be warming up to play the first song.

“May I have this dance,” Talbott asked, mock bowing to the girl. Judith giggled behind a red manicured hand.

“You may…” Taking her hand Talbott led Judith close to the center of the dance floor, with David and Merula standing not too far from them. The fairies that were lighting up the room swirled around the students, leaving them in awe at the magical moment. In the midst of this, David gave his friend a wink, who in turned returned it with an unimpressed glare. Judith returned her attention back to her date once she felt him take one of her hands

“I’m not usually one who likes public displays, but… I quite like this one… almost as much as I like you,” Talbott quietly admitted as he looked into pale gold eyes.

‘Is it possibly to pass out from blushing so much? Because I think I’m close…’ Judith thought as she ducked her head with a smile. Talbott was being so sweet and kind to her, she wanted to be wrapped up in his arms and dance the night away.

Judith looked back up at him with a teasing grin.

“I hope you like dancing too, because it’s our time to shine…”

————————

Talbott was smiling at the laughing girl in his arms as he spun her around. The two have been in their own little bubble ever since the dance started.

Their shy exteriors melted away leaving behind something much warmer and intimate. Anyone with eyes can see that they were clearly smitten with each other. Which were plenty watching them on occasion.

Red eyes darted around the Great Hall, finding the person he was looking for. He gave the Headmaster a subtle nod which he returned with a knowing smile. Talbott stepped back from Judith to clear his throat with a smile.

“All this dancing is making me thirsty, I think I’m gonna get a refreshment,” he said. Judith smiled at him, making his heart stutter in a lovestruck sigh.

“A refreshment sounds great, actually! I’ll go with you-”

“N-no need! I-I’ll get one for you! Just... stay right there,” Talbott stuttered before taking off. Judith’s brows furrowed in confused as she watch Talbott disappear in the darkness.

Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder. Turning, she saw the cheery smile of David.

“Cheers, Little Tigress! I see that I was right about you enjoying yourself,” he said with a grin. Judith glared and punched his arm.

“Cheeky bastard,” she growled. David laughed good naturedly while rubbing his arm.

“I’m surprised you’re not with Synde. Seeing how eager you were to get here and be with her,” she retorted. David shrugged.

“Mer said she going to get refreshments for the both of us. She actually suggest I go find you to see how your night was so far,” David replied. Gold eyes narrow out of suspicion.

“That’s a little odd. Talbott just let to do the same thing...”

“Was it? I found it very typical of Miss Synde and Mr. Winger,” a third voice said. David and Judith turned to see the amused face of their Headmaster.

The pair chatted with Professor Dumbledore for a while when Judith noticed something was amiss.

“It’s bit awhile since Merula and Talbott went to get refreshments. Surely it can’t take that long,” Judith pondered out loud. Dumbledore smiled.

“Clever eye, Miss Harris. That’s because they’re no longer here and they personally asked me to distract you,” he chuckled. David and Judith glanced at each other before looking back up at Dumbledore.

“Professor,” David asked warily. Dumbledore chuckled.

“Mr. Willows, you can head to the library. Miss Harris... while Mr. Winger wasn’t explicit with the location for you to go to, he did say ‘Remember our first date’ as a clue. Enjoy the rest of your storybook fairytale night, you two. You deserve it,” Professor Dumbledore informed the pair with a knowing smile.

Judith blushed walking out of the Great Hall with David. The two said their goodbyes as Judith made her way outside. Transforming into her Black Sparrowhawk, she couldn’t help but wonder what Talbott had planned at the Black Lake...

-----------------

Judith landed on the shore and transformed back, only to be surprised to find who was waiting for her.

“Lily,” she asked as the little fairy flew around her, buzzing out of excitement.

What was her little friend doing all the way out here?

The magical creature took ahold of her hand, tugging her to the Boat house.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming. Just slow down, I am wearing heels after all,” she laughed gently. Judith followed the excited fairy inside only to freeze at the door way.

Standing inside was Talbott. The place looked to have been cleaned out. Numerous fairies including her own lit up the Boathouse in a soft glow. Rose petals scattered the floor, along with some candles. A large heart made up of different colored roses was hung up behind the Ravenclaw wizard. A small table with some chairs of some of the food and drinks form the Ball sat in a corner. Somewhere in the background, there was soft music playing as well.

Talbott walked up to the stunned Hufflepuff witch and took her hand.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, little bird,” he spoke softly. Judith shook her head out of disbelief.

“W-what is all this, Talbott,” she asked. The young man bit his lip.

“I-I... I may have been planning this while I was at the Owlery... I wanted to surprise you. While I did originally plan to do this in the Library, someone else had the same idea... So I’d figured the Black Lake was the next best thing. I did have some help putting this together,” Talbott admitted.

Lily buzzed, as if she was giggling at the two. Judith rose a brow at her Fairy’s cheeky behavior before chuckling.

“I just thought that... after everything you’ve done for Hogwarts, for me, you deserved a storybook romance,” Talbott said. Judith rescanned the room before offering a smile.

“I had no idea that you could be such a romantic, Talbott. But clearly you are.” Talbott blushed, scratching the back of his neck.

“I guess all that poetry paid off...”

--------

The pair sat and ate, chatting in between. Talbott giving going as far to feed Judith a bit of a cupcake. He ended blushing when he felt her lips touch his fingers tips as she let out a pleased moan.

Currently they were slow dancing in the middle of the room, listening to the music softly playing in the background.

“This is really amazing, Talbott,” Judith spoke up, daring to look up at red eyes that reminded her of rubies.

“You’re the amazing one, Judith. I was simply following my heart,” Talbott replied, squeezing her closer. That foreign yet familiar scent that clung onto the Hufflepuff filled his nose.

“O-Oh stop it. I am not,” Judith insisted with a nervous laugh. Having Talbott so close to her was causing her heart to beat faster than normal. Talbott stopped dancing in favor of holding her hands. His gaze was unwavering.

“I mean it, little bird. You made this Valentine’s Day perfect for everyone, even Flich and Pince... And especially for me,” Talbott confessed. Pearly whites flashed at him.

“All I wanted was a magical Valentine’s Day with my date,” Judith started, glancing down for a quick moment to gather herself before looking back up at Talbott through her lashes.

“...And... And I’m so happy that date is you...” And she was. Truly.

Talbott was the picture perfect gentleman. And the fact he went through great lengths to make Valentine’s Day memorable for her reminded her of happier times from her childhood. Except now it was with someone who likes her for her.

She hasn’t felt this special in years...

Talbott urged his heart to calm down as he reached for his wand.

“I feel the same way, Judith. And I... made something for you...” Stepping back, Talbott casted a spell, causing a book to appear. Judith blinked out of surprise at the book that hovered between them. Carefully reaching for it, she opened it to a random page somewhere in the beginning.

“...The loner poet listened to the Howler professed the words he wasn’t aware that lived in his heart. Speaking of a deep longing for a girl with otherworldly pale gold eyes. To never leave him because when he looks into her unique irises, he can see future. A future where he would wake up to them every morning. A future where he would look at child with the same eyes as her. A future that would lead to forever together.

He felt his heart stall in his chest, itching to cast a spell to light the Howler ablaze to prevent its words being heard by unwanted ears. It was then he smelled her before he heard her.

A hint of sea breeze that made him feel like he was standing so close the never-ending ocean. Chocolate that reminded him of her skin tone. A variety of fainter sweet scents, most he couldn’t name but the one he could pick out was honey.

Her melodious low voice sung to his eardrums:

“Hey, what did your Valentine Howler say?” He swiftly turned to find pale gold eyes curiously looking up at him. He could feel his heart speed up when he connected the dots.

It was her.

She was the one his heart longed for.

Everything that has transpired that day and this revelation became too much for the loner poet to take. He was quick to deny that his Howler hasn’t said anything, using the opportunity their teacher has created to leave the classroom.

He needed time. Time to think of what to do next...”

Judith was so engrossed in words written on the page that she didn’t realize that Talbott was now standing behind her.

“It’s not finished, more so of a... work in progress for an ongoing story...” Judith jumped a little when she felt his breath ghost over her visible ear.

“This is about you,” she whispered, releasing the book to float again. She turned to find Talbott staring down at her with half lid eyes.

“It’s about you and me, little bird,” he whispered, cupping one of her cheeks. Judith closed her eyes, leaning into his warm touch.

There was a shift in the air and she nervous but secretly excited to where this could lead...

Talbott withdrew for a moment forcing Judith to open her eyes again. She notice a heart shaped key necklace in his hand.

“What’s that,” she asked quietly.

“This is the key that unlocks the book. I made it be this way so you can wear it like a necklace. So our story would always be with you,” Talbott answered, carefully placing the it around her neck. A full body shiver raked Judith’s body when she felt the tips of his finger ghost over the sensitive skin.

“I... I never had someone put this much effort for me. To bare your feelings like this, Talbott... I... I don’t know what to say,” Judith confessed quietly. She could barely hear her own voice over the roar of blood rushing to her face combined with the sound of her heartbeat pounding against her eardrums.

Talbott caressed her cheek again.

“I don’t expect an answer from you right away little bird. I’m more than happy to do this for you. You’re the only one who deserves to see this side of me...” Talbott leaned closer aiming to place a kiss on her cheek. Much like he did last year.

What Judith did next surprised both of them.

Turning her head ever so slightly, she caught Talbott’s lips with her own. This stunned the pair, both remaining motionlessly for a few moments. Just as the Ravenclaw wizard was about to pull back, Judith held him there by his tie, pressing against him. Her painted lips moved against his unresponsive ones slowly, testing the waters and his resolve.

After a moment of deliberation, Talbott gave in and returned the unexpected kiss. With one hand cupping her face, its twin finding refuge on her lower back, pushing her closer still. Judith released his tie in favor of wrapping her arms around his neck, melting in his embrace. Both of them were placed under a cloudy haze as their lips continued to move against one another.

The pair broke apart for air, foreheads resting against one another. Talbott silently licked his lips, picking up the taste of vanilla.

‘She tastes just as sweet as she looks. Good Gods help me...’ came the helpless thought as he found himself at the end of Judith’s sultry stare.

‘What are you doing to me, Talbott? Why do I feel this way towards you...’

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Talbott,” Judith whispered, placing a soft kiss against the corner of his lips. Talbott shivered at the sound of her voice, which has dipped down an octave. Her accent came out, loud and clear. His hands, which has migrated to her waist, squeezed down on the curve for a few seconds.

He could listen to her speak to him like this for hours...

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Judith... Thank you for being my valentine...” Judith let out soft chuckle, pulling him in for another kiss.

In the midst of this an involuntary thought passed through her mind. One which would shatter the Hufflepuff witch later on.

‘I love you, Talbott...’

-------------------

Some time has passed since the Valentine’s Day Ball. Judith more or less went back to her life as per usual.

With occasional outing with Talbott when classes and working for Rakepick became too much for her.

It was late at night and she was at the shore of the Black Lake, practicing her spellwork. She always wanted to remain sharp on her skills and it was a way for her to prepare for the upcoming O.W.L.S., which was approaching fast.

She decided to practice the Patronus Charm, seeing how she hasn’t casted it in awhile.

“Expecto Patronum!”

What came out of the tip of her wand shocked her.

Instead of her usual Siberian Tiger was a-

“G-Golden E-Eagle?!” Her eyes watched as the avian predator flew above her before disappearing.

She shocked her head, not believing what she just saw.

Over and over again, she casted the spell, waiting to see her beloved tiger. Only to watch the animal that came out soar its wings above her.

Her legs gave out from beneath her.

“No, no, no! How can this be happening?! Patronuses don’t change,” she panicked. A vague memory came resurfaced in her mind.

“Though I have heard of Patronuses changing forms after falling in love...” Judith’s eyes widen.

That voice belonged to Tonks when they were dealing with the Dementor threat from last year.

Another memory surfaced, however, much older...

“Gift this ring to the one your heart desires above all others. It will only fit and accept that one person, anyone else, it’ll reject and return to you...” Tears ran down her cheeks. When she realized what memory it was.

“Gran-Gran...” came the broken whisper. Her grandmother gifted her a magical blue and silver ring before she died. The same ring she gave to Talbott just a year prior. She didn’t remember her dear grandmother’s words when she gave it to him.

Now that she thought about it, the ring never returned to her. And it was on Talbott’s left ring finger the night of the Ball.

Even as she kissed him, those three words that haunted her since childhood has crossed her flowery dazed mind.

She couldn’t do anything but face the truth. To speak the words that haunted her in form of a Boggart from third year.

“I love Talbott Winger...”

And she was secretly terrified.

Because she knew if he were to confess the same, she was done for.

Her heart would be his.

And risk breaking if he were to ever leave...

17 notes · View notes

isitgintimeyet · 4 years

Text

Just A Friend

AO3

Another Sunday, another chapter. Hope it’s a good weekend for you all, despite these uncertain times. I always intended this story to be a bit of fluffy light relief from the real world. Thanks for all the support for it.

There will probably be another 3 chapters after this, depending on how the characters behave. I cant seem to make them do what I want sometimes!

Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta

Chapter 11: From Marriage to Mackenzie

It’s 1pm and I’m in a hotel room, still in a bathrobe, sipping Buck’s Fizz whilst a hairdresser wrestles with my wayward curls, finally managing to corral them into some sort of recognisable hair style.

Geillis is sitting on the edge of the bed incongruously dressed in tiara and bathrobe, her hair arranged in an elaborate updo. I catch her eye through the dressing table mirror and smile before my vision is obscured by a miasma of hairspray.

A few final tweaks of my curls and it’s done. I am just amazed that my hair can be cajoled into such glossy, bouncy curls, held behind one ear by an ornately decorated comb. With suitable compliments and thanks, Geillis and I bid goodbye to the hairdresser.

The bride stands up and adjusts the belt of her robe. She seems the epitome of calm.

“Are you not nervous, Geillis? You’ll be walking down the aisle in about an hour’s time.”

“Weel, I am a wee bit worried about a couple of things,” she admits. “I dinna ken how ma cousin Janie will behave. She may try tae proposition every man under the age of seventy five. And as fer Dougal’s Uncle Eric—he has been known tae get steamin’ drunk and puke in the rose beds. But about the marrying? Nah, I dinna have any nerves about that. I want tae spend ma life wi’ Dougal and that’s what today is all about. I have nae worries about making that commitment. He’s the one fer me. When ye ken, ye ken. Trust me, Claire.”

The pocket of her bathrobe begins to buzz. She quickly pulls out her phone and reads the message.

“I’d best go. That was Mam, fretting about something or other. Are ye ok getting dressed on yer own?”

“I’ve managed for the past twenty nine years or so. I dare say I can manage another day.” I sigh theatrically.

“I ken. Ye can manage on yer own. Ye always do. But thanks fer being here with me today. It means a lot tae have the people who mean the most tae me around,” she leans over and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “But remember what I said, Claire, when ye ken, ye ken. Dinna ignore it.”

Pausing at the interconnecting doorway, she does a quick body shimmy and grins. “Woo hoo! I’m getting married. Canna believe it’s here now,”

From the adjoining room, I can hear a shouted response. “Geillis Duncan, ye get here now. Yer mam reckons that makeup lassie has done her eyeliner wonky. It looks fine tae me. Can ye come and talk some sense in tae the daft cow?”

“Alright, Da, I’m coming.” Geillis yells back before leaving to deal with her parents.

I sit down and study my bridesmaid’s dress, now hanging on the wardrobe door. I’m getting excited about the day ahead. Probably not as much as Geillis, obviously, but a host of butterflies appears to have taken residence in the pit of my stomach.

I’m truly thrilled for Geillis to be marrying Dougal—they love each other so much. But, also, it’s scary to me. She is willing, eager even, to commit to one person, to base her future life, her future happiness on one man. If they should ever leave…well, I’m not sure I’d be able to cope with that. If you love too hard, you can hurt too much. Trust me on that, I know. People leave you. Don’t give your heart to anyone, keep it hidden away, protected…intact.

The ping from my phone diverts me from this somber train of thought.

I’m downstairs at the hotel. Can you come and say hello?

I quickly type:

Come up to the 2nd floor. I’ll meet you by the lift.

Making sure the keycard is in my pocket, I slip my feet into the hotel’s complimentary slippers and shuffle out to meet Jamie.

I’m already waiting as the lift door opens and he emerges. My first thought is oh wow, as is my second...and third. He has made an effort for this wedding, and it’s certainly paid off. Eschewing the more formal Prince Charlie style, he’s wearing a charcoal grey jacket and waistcoat, perfectly matching the grey in his kilt. A crisp white shirt and burgundy tie complement the secondary colours in the tartan. His sporran is black leather, heavily etched or embossed. I can’t quite make out the detail. Then I feel myself blush as I realise I have been clearly staring at his...er, lower body. I look up quickly.

Fortunately, he doesn’t seem to have noticed. He looks me up and down and smiles. “Nice outfit,” he comments drily. “Is the bride wearing white towelling too? What’s the theme? Salon chic?”And is that part of the design?” He points to an orange stain on the front of my robe. I pull a face and tie the belt tighter, trying to tuck the offending piece of material out of sight.

“Must have spilled a drop of my Buck’s Fizz.”

“Drinking already? Dinna be staggering down the aisle.”

He reaches out towards my hair and pauses for a second before making a random circular motion with his hand. “And this…I like yer hair. It’s verra…verra…” he searches for the word. “... asymmetric.”

“Thank you,” I hold the ‘skirt’ of my robe and bob a little curtsy. “That’s totally what we were going for—asymmetric.”

He laughs. “Nah, seriously. Yer hair and yer makeup look grand. I’m sure ye’ll look lovely in yer dress.”

I gesture to my room. “I’d best finish getting ready.”

“Aye, I’ll see ye downstairs.” He presses the button for the lift.

“By the way, you look grand too.” I try to say it in an understated way. It’s true, but I don’t want him to read anything into the statement.

The lift arrives and he steps inside. As the doors close, he fires a parting shot. “Especially the sporran, eh?”

*********

Now in my bridesmaid’s dress, I practice a couple of pirouettes in front of the mirror before hearing a quick knock on the door to the adjoining room.

“Ye ready, Claire? Mam’s jes’ gone down. Only us three left.”

I walk through to the other room to be met by a riot of open suitcases, bags and boxes. A variety of towels, dressing gowns and footwear seem to be carpeting the floor.

“‘S ok,” Geillis’ voice comes from behind me. “It’s no’ ma problem. I’m no’ sleeping here tonight. I’ll be in the bridal suite. This’ll be Mam and Dad’s room.”

I turn to see my best friend now fully dressed and ready. Her father is hovering next to her, clad in kilt and full formal regalia. I always knew she would win that battle.

As beautiful as she looks, the thing that really strikes me is the way her father is watching her, with such love and pride. She returns his gaze and brings her forehead to rest against his cheek.

I swallow hard, fighting the desire to shed a tear. It’s such a precious image, so intimate, but also, I realise that, since Lamb died, I have nobody, no father figure, to share something like this. I feel a momentary pang of, not jealousy, but a feeling of regret over an emotion that I will never get to experience.

And then, just like that, the moment passes.

It always does.

Geillis passes me a creamy white posy tied with a simple ribbon and gathers up her bouquet of peonies, roses and fragrant eucalyptus.

“OK,” she takes a deep breath and breaks into a huge grin. “I think I’m late enough tae get Dougal jes’ a wee bit nervous. Time tae roll.”

*******

The hotel’s orangery provides a perfect setting for the wedding ceremony. Softly diffused sunlight filters through the white muslin drapes at the large windows. A slight breeze wafts the fabric gently, giving tantalising glimpses of the formal gardens outside.

At the end of the room, Dougal and Angus stand beside a large arch of succulent green foliage, staring straight ahead as Geillis and her father begin the procession down the aisle with me following.

Even before he turns to look, I can spot Jamie — his auburn curls are head and shoulders above those around him. He stays still at first, but as we draw near he turns around and grins before doing his funny blink, screwing up his face and closing both eyes, which I have learnt, is Jamie’s attempt at a wink. I return his smile before focussing on the arch getting ever closer.

Dougal appears rooted to the spot, but Angus turns around and watches for a moment before giving me a perfectly executed wink. I smile politely even as I shudder inwardly. The sheer self confidence of that man is beyond belief. Then he disappears from my thoughts as Geillis reaches the arch and passes me her bouquet to hold. The joy on her and Dougal’s faces as they prepare to make their vows is wonderful and I’m so happy to be a part of it all.

***************

They say the sun shines on the righteous. Well, Geillis and Dougal must be exceptionally good, as it’s a perfect summer afternoon. It’s beautifully warm, but not too hot, as all the guests mingle in the gardens, admiring the beautiful surroundings whilst drinking chilled champagne.

The photographer has finished with the formal photographs, so I’m allowed to relax and enjoy a glass or two. I can still spot him wandering around, ready to take more natural, candid shots of the proceedings but nobody seems to mind.

I was initially worried about inviting Jamie to the wedding for a couple of reasons. The first was my friends. Of course, my friends are great, but Anna and Mary can sometimes have an issue with boundaries and I had visions of the ‘conversations’ they might try to have with Jamie — ‘nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition’ unless Anna and Mary are around.

The second reason was that Jamie would literally know only one person at this wedding —me. And that, when I was off doing official ‘wedding stuff’, he would be on his own, billy-no-mates. But, as I look around, I realise I had absolutely nothing to worry about on that score. He has the knack, it seems, to get on with everyone.

At the moment he’s talking to Geillis’s father, laughing and joking like they’re old friends. He notices me looking at him, lifts his empty glass up and points to me. I hold my glass up and nod. He excuses himself and strolls towards the bar.

There’s a slight touch on my elbow. “Hello, dear.”

I draw my attention to the old lady standing next to me—Geillis’ great aunt Frances. I’ve met her on a couple of occasions before and have always enjoyed her company. She’s a straight talker and makes no bones about it. “When ye get tae my age,” I remember her commenting to me “ye dinna have time tae beat about the bush, ye need tae say what ye think.” I like that in a person.

“Hello, how nice to see you.”

“Ye too,dear. I must say ye’re looking awfa bonnie in that dress. It’s a fine colour on ye.”

“Thank you. And you’re looking lovely yourself.”

Frances makes a self deprecating ‘hmph’ sound, dismissing my compliment with a wave of her hand. “Away wi’ ye. Ye do yer best wi’ what ye’ve still got. Which isna much in ma case.”

I shake my head. “Not at—“

But she decides to change the subject and moves on with her next question. “Is that yer young man over there?” She points at Jamie, heading towards us with two glasses of champagne. “He’s a handsome chap, is he no’? Mind ye, that’s no more than ye deserve. Sae, mebbe ye’ll be next?”

“No, we—“

I have no chance to say anything more, before Jamie is by my side and handing me one of the glasses. I take a sip as he notices that Frances has no drink and, without hesitation, he passes the second glass to her.

“Aren’t ye kind… er?” She accepts gratefully.

“Jamie.”

“Weel, Jamie, let me tell ye. It’s been a long while since a good looking young man has brought me a drink. I should make the most of it. Anyway, I was jes’ saying tae our Claire here, how bonnie she looks today. Does she no’?”

She fixes her gaze on Jamie, demanding an answer.

“Aye, she looks lovely.” His eyes meet mine for a second, before I look away and try to change the subject.

“Don’t you think Geillis looks beautiful, Frances?”

But, it seems that Frances has one line of conversation that she is keen to pursue. “Oh aye, she does. But, Jamie, I was jes’ saying tae Claire that mebbe she’ll be next. What d’ye think?”

Fortunately, I’m spared any response as a gong sounds and the maître d’ announces that dinner is served and that everyone should make their way inside to the dining room.

****************

Having narrowly avoided any embarrassment, I am somewhat apprehensive to see Frances at our table. Fortunately, Geillis’ cousin and baby are enough to divert her attention away from any matrimonial prospects that may or may not be on my horizon.

With Jamie sitting by my side, I catch him up on all the behind the scenes activity of my day and we fall into our pattern of easy conversation and gentle banter. From time to time, I can see Frances, opposite, watching us with a look of approval on her face, but she says nothing.

Once the speeches and toasts are over, there’s a palpable change in the guests. Jackets are draped over chair backs, sleeves rolled up and waistcoat buttons undone. I can spot more than one woman moving awkwardly in her chair, struggling to locate the shoes that were eased off out of sight under the table. Cheeks become flushed with an abundance of rich food and tongues become looser with a surfeit of fine wine.

I sip my whisky, savouring its peaty smokiness. Jamie is in a serious rugby related conversation with his neighbour. A rustle of fabric behind me announces the arrival of the bride, a look of frustration on her face.

She greets the table politely before whispering “Can I borrow ye, Claire?”

I make my excuses and follow her into a quieter room.

“What’s up, Geillis? Is everything alright?” I’m concerned that there’s something genuinely wrong.

“It’s his bloody family,” she hisses. “The Mackenzies, if ye give them an inch, they’ll take a fuckin’ mile.”

She takes a deep breath and continues. “Dougal invited his second cousin Gary and his wife tae our evening do. Jes’ the two of them mind. Sae they turn up an hour and a half early and try tae cadge dessert and brandies from the waiters.”

“Where are they now?”

“Och, they’re sitting outside wi’ a couple of spare bottles of wine.” She gestures angrily to the gardens visible through the window. “And they’ll be first in the queue fer the buffet this evening, nae doubt. And what's more, they took it upon themselves tae bring their three bairns too. Weel, I say bairns, but they’re all in their twenties so it’s no’ as if they dinna have a babysitter.”

She finally sits down and lets her shoulders relax.

I take her hand and try to look serious. If this is the worst thing that happens today, that’s not so bad. Although clearly, in Geillis’ eyes, this is a catastrophe. “It’s not going to spoil anything really is it? They didn’t gatecrash the meal or the speeches,” I speak in a soothing tone. “Are you ok now?”

She nods. “Happen ye’re right. I jes’ wanted tae get it off ma chest. And I kent what I was getting in tae wi’ his family. But tae drag Gregory, Alicia and Laoghaire uninvited wi’ them jes’ pisses me off.”

I stare at her. “Laoghaire? Laoghaire Mackenzie?”

“Aye, that’s right. Unusual name, is it no’? Ye dinna find many of them around—thank god.”

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dontasktheradiodemon · 3 years

Text

Musical Tryouts (1/31/2021)

Please pretend I posted this chat log a month and a half ago when it actually happened, sob.

Valera @autokrates is leaving an audition for Hell’s first production of Hamilton, and runs into Alastor, waiting for his turn to audition. They hang out and chat until it’s his turn—which marks the first time in forever they’ve had a full conversation that wasn’t Incredibly Awkward the whole way through. Hooray for progress.

Chronologically, this chat log happened between this (note: art of extremely hilarious outfit) and this (note: art of another hilarious outfit)

Alastor

Alastor hasn’t auditioned for a show since the seventies, and hasn’t auditioned and *cared* about it in almost a century. He’d like to think he doesn’t look nervous, but he knows he’s reread his typewritten lyrics about a hundred times and every couple of minutes he catches his leg bouncing again. That’s fine, he’s in disguise, he isn’t supposed to look like himself anyway. He can look a little nervous.

When he realizes he’s more staring a hole through his pages than actually reading them, he forces himself to lift his head, slouches back in his cheap metal chair, and looks around the makeshift backstage waiting room. Maybe he can figure out if anyone else is trying for his parts, drag them into the back alley, and mangle them. It would defeat the purpose of showing up in disguise, but it would burn some nervous energy, and anyway he’s already seen one would-be Angelica pin another down and slit her throat. His gaze scans over the other hopeful actors.

Valera

From the stage comes the muffled sound of someone singing, as expected. But the singing gets louder as the voice approaches the door, and it certainly sounds like Not A Musical Number. It sounds a lot more like someone who needed to be accompanied by someone torturing a piano with a series of small hammers. Was that a Will Wood number? Why yes, yes it was!

Through the curtains and round the corner comes the fish supreme, bedecked in enough frills and frippery to lose an orphan in with their 18th century french fashion, belting out lines from I/Me/Myself as they saunter towards the exit with barely a glance for the other hopefuls waiting for their call. Barely a glance at all, until their eyes land on Alastor. Then their jaunty tune is cut off with an uncanny impression of a record scratch crossed with a chicken being strangled, head whipping around for a double take as they freeze mid stride. Holy fuck what was he WEARING???

Alastor

Alastor’s ears threatened to perk up beneath his temporarily shapeshifted hair at the sound of a very familiar and very beloved song from another performer—he’d almost considered performing that one himself, God was he lucky he’d decided to go with “Modern Major General”—and he turned to see who it was with the spectacular taste in music—

“Valera?!” What the hell was Valera doing at a musical audition in Hell?

Valera

It WAS Alastor! They KNEW it! They gasp, pointing at him as their eyes boggle. "Al--" And just as quickly, a hand is clapped over their own mouth, teeth clicking as they clamp their mouth shut. Okay, try that again, *without* ruining his disguise.

They stride over to where he's sitting, leaning in slightly before hissing. "What are you WEARING?"

Alastor

Alastor plays the sound of something crashing over when Valera starts to say his name—the other waiting performers look around to see which props just toppled over—and hops out of his seat to meet Valera in the middle when they approach him. “Do *not* expose me,” he hisses, flinging an arm around Valera’s shoulders. “Nobody here knows I’m the Radio Demon and if this is going to work, nobody *can* know.”

Then he looks down at his own outfit. “A disguise.” Obviously. “I asked my listeners, ‘What’s the last thing you’d ever expect me to wear?’”

Valera

Oh, great, he's touching them AND he's already mad at them for something they'd already avoided. This seemed like par for the course, might as well get through this as painlessly as possible. Valera's face tightens into a stiff little smile, stomach already twisting into knots. "I've got no plans of exposing you, it would be a shame to ruin the work you put into your... outfit."

A slow exhale from the nose, and they force their shoulders to relax. Can't have the other actors see the two of them at odds, they're clearly just a couple of friends running into each other! A funny coincidence! Their voice raises back to a normal speaking tone, all sunshine and cheer as they give Alastor a pat on the back that falls short of actually touching him. "I take it you're here to audition for a part, then?"

Alastor

Alastor wheezes a near-silent laugh. “Isn’t it hideous?” he whispers. “You should see what the full leggings look like, they’re horrible.”

He lets go and steps back. “I am! I was seized by a wild burst of inspiration, and auditions happened before that inspiration ran out. I take it you... *already* auditioned.” Which raises a whole slew of questions, but Alastor starts with the most important one: “Which part?”

Valera

Valera sends up a silent prayer of thanks to any God listening, hands folding behind their back as they admire Alastor's grotesque attire. "Unfortunately, I kind of love it. It's vile, but with a few tweaks it could be a genuinely good outfit."

They clear their throat at his latter question, rolling back on the heels of their new shoes. "Washington. I didn't come to Hell today expecting to audition for anything, I was just here buying shoes. But I heard music, saw the theater, decided to pop in and see what was going on. And hey, why not try out? Didn't expect to run into you of all people."

Alastor

A little tension drains out of his shoulders at the answer. He glances down to idly check out Valera’s new shoes. “Oh, good! I don’t have to duel you for a part.” He almost instinctively starts playing a snip from “Ten Duel Commandments” to underline the comment, but catches himself. He is, after all, trying not to blow his cover—he’s even consciously suppressing the radio distortion to his voice, he nearly sounds like a normal person. “The feeling’s *entirely* mutual. You’re about the last person I’d expect to try out for a show around here, so far from home!”

And he’s not sure how he feels about it yet. He’s been trying to avoid talking to Valera—can’t get in trouble after interacting with them if they *don’t* interact, can he?—and now here he is doing the opposite of that... but they haven’t started another stupid argument. Yet. “What are you doing if you actually get the part? You’re committing to being in Pentagram City on a near daily basis for—goodness, months at least!”

Valera

They don't know how they feel about seeing him here either. It went from being a fun little spur of the moment tryout before icecream into an UNEXPECTED INTERACTION with A PERSON THEY DON'T KNOW WELL. But no, they have to tamp down on the urge to make their excuses and leave, things would never improve between them if Valera did nothing but avoid him after all.

"IF I get the part! I haven't been in a production in years, I'm rusty compared to plenty of the actors here today, I'm sure." A hand waves, lazy and dismissive. "But if I do pull it off, I've been planning on spending more time in Hell anyway. This is just a convenient excuse."

Alastor

“Hah, I haven’t tried out for a show since—well, since before you were born.” And then, he’d just been doing it as a lark, too—something to attempt to keep his mind occupied. He hadn’t actually *wanted* to be in a production this badly since he lived in New York, before he gave up on making it on Broadway and went into radio. “But how many of *them* can launch into a full musical number at the drop of a hat!”

Valera

Right, it was easy to forget that Alastor was old enough to be their dad. Or Grandpa. Probably? They'd done the math at some point..

"Hatched." They correct on reflex, reaching up to fuss with the feather on their hat. "Who are you trying for? Lafayette? I could see you as a Lafayette." They're saying it because of the French, but they will NOT say that out loud.

Alastor

Great-grandpa, easily. Maybe even great-great grandpa if a few generations got early starts.

His face brightens. “Let’s hope the casting director thinks so, too! Yes, Lafayette and Jefferson—the same actor played them both in the mortal realm, why shouldn’t one person play both down here, too?”

Valera

Great-grandpa Alastor, the spryest old man in the nursing home. Eating the interns when he gets bored... That sounds like a typical older Veci actually.

They hum, looking Alastor up and down in his getup. "You'll get the part, or I'll eat this silly chapeu. I've seen the competition you're up against. They're good, don't get me wrong, but..." A vague gesture at him. "Nobody could compete!"

Alastor

"You flatter me!" All the same, he's beaming widely. "But I was hoping that would be the case, what with when they scheduled auditions. January's a bad time for, well, *most* people's schedules. I'm afraid I missed all but the tail end of your performance—spectacular choice of song, though!"

Valera

"Why thank you! Will Wood doesn't fit the show's theme in the slightest, but it certainly shows my singing chops! Though if I'd planned for this audition I might have gone with an outfit a bit less.. *French*." They grin, shimmying their enormous sleeves. Unrepentant in the slightest. "Might. I could see Washington's doughy self in this getup."

Alastor

Alastor examines Valera’s getup. Was that French? It just looked old-fashioned to him. “Well, hopefully they’re not going to judge based on fashion!” He glances pointedly down at his own outfit.

Valera

Another glance at his outfit, and they give a thumbs up. "You've got a bowtie on, you'll be fine."

Oh. Would it be a supportive friend thing to do to sit and wait for his call with him? Or would that be somehow rude? They couldn't just ask, if it *was* rude he'd probably be offended by the notion, but if it wasn't... Something bad. Probably? Maybe they're being unfair. A quick clearing of the throat, and they gesture towards the door. "Do you want to sit down? I've got time to kill before. Uh... *Mon Cerf Rouge* arrives with my ice cream."

Alastor

*Oh right*, he’s wearing *Valera’s husband’s* bow tie. His hand flies up to cover it as if that will prevent it from being identified, and he quickly forces his hand back down. “Well! I wasn’t going to show up to an audition underdressed, was I?” He laughs thinly. Don’t act suspicious it’s fine.

Is Valera hanging out with another Alastor? He wonders which one. How is it that every version of himself manages to get along with them but him? It wouldn’t be so galling if *none* of them could get along with Valera, but if it’s something he uniquely is doing wrong—no, don’t worry about that right now.

His first inclination is to turn down the offer, they’ve had a cordial conversation so far and he can’t mess it up if it ends right here; but there’s a chance they’re about to both end up in the same show, isn’t there? Polite avoidance might not be an option for long. Better get to work on getting along. “Sure! It’s a bit yet until my turn.”

Valera

What a reaction! They will politely pretend they didn't see him have a miniature panic over being seen wearing Pentious' bowtie. Far too busy inspecting their gloves, for some reason. How convenient.

Well, now they've done it, they're stuck here. Though it's surprising he accepted the offer, maybe it'll be okay? If he really wanted to avoid them he could have turned the offer down. They're probably overthinking it. A quick nod, and then they perch on the edge of a seat so their fuckoff huge tail can actually fit amidst the mounds of ruffles. On the plus side, nobody but Alastor was going to be taking the seats next to them anytime soon, unless they wanted to fight the tide of frills.

Time to.. Get along? Polite chit chat? "Is this the first production of Hamilton in Hell? It's a fairly new musical, and I know there's a bit of a delay getting things down here."

Alastor

“The very first! In fact, this production company is the one that got the first recording smuggled down from the living realm! Online there’s a few amateur recordings of recent arrivals singing the songs they remember, but so far that’s the only presence Hamilton has had in Hell. Anyone who gets in this show has an opportunity to *define* their roles in the eyes of the public.” Oh, he’s getting a little starry-eyed just thinking of it. “I suppose you’ve probably seen the original production in the mortal realm?”

Valera

"I did, though that was long before I met you or I'd have invited you along!" They're going to take the hat off, it's very silly and the feather keeps floating around in the corner of their vision. Plus, now they have something to hold in their hands so they can't start doing anything weird with them. Win win!

Alastor seems genuinely excited about this production, he'd gone through all the effort to get an outfit, come for tryouts.. And they just sauntered in on a whim. Thank the gods they weren't trying out for the same part, Valera would have had to bow out immediately. "I wonder if any of the actual founding fathers have survived long enough down here to see the show. Wouldn't *that* be something?"

Alastor

“Wouldn’t it just! I can’t think of *anything* I’d enjoy more than prancing around on stage making Jefferson look like an absolute damn fool while the real deal seethes in a front row seat!” He laughs. It’s not a terribly friendly laugh. “But I don’t know if any are down here. I don’t pay close attention to that sort of thing—and anyway, most *important* people who end up damned either find themselves on the receiving end of a deluge of assassination attempts or else change their identities fairly fast. A founding father could show up and audition to play as himself and we might not know.” A thoughtful pause. “Although I doubt any of them would get the part.”

Valera

"I'd assume they wound up here, considering the whole owning slaves and starting wars thing. Good PR post mortem doesn't absolve you of shitty behaviors in life, unfortunately." Yes. Very unfortunate. That's why they're grinning so toothily. "Imagine if we got the actual King George on the roster? Though I'd rather see Pentious try for the part, personally." There's no way George was still around, he'd gone batty enough in life that he'd probably wandered onto the nearest angelic spear first thing. But they could dream!

Alastor

“One would hope! But no one’s ever sent me the rule book on what does and doesn’t get you access upstairs, who knows for sure? I can tell you what I think *should* get you down here, but I can’t tell you with complete certainty whether or not it does.”

Oh, his eyes light up at that. “Just imagine him in the full raiment of a king! But no. Getting up on stage to have hundreds of people laugh at him for dressing and acting like royalty? He’d hate it.”

Valera

"He'd look glorious in a crown! But you're right, he'd never want a comic relief role, even if he WOULD get to sing about sending battalions after people." Alas and alack, King George ala Pentious would have to live in their dreams. But they smirk, leaning a fraction closer to Alastor to whisper. "But we might be able to get him to sing it privately, at least, and wouldn't that be lovely?"

Quickly pulling back, they cross one leg over the other and put on that cheerful grin again. "What do you think *should* qualify to send people to Hell, my fine fellow? It's a broad question, so we can skip it if you'd rather not open that can of worms."

Alastor

Wouldn’t it be lovely, indeed. He smiles uncomfortably and glances away.

“Oh, skip it.” He waves a hand vaguely. “I find the topic as sanctimonious as it is futile. It may not be for *you*, perhaps—for you, it’s little more than an interesting thought experiment on alien morality—but for us? What’s the good of debating why people should be damned when we’re *already* damned? It’s not going to help us get out of Hell. God isn’t going to take our suggestions into consideration. All the topic does is make one bitter that the powers that be don’t appear to be judging people to one’s personal moral standards—or else it inspires one to assume that God *is* operating in line with one’s personal understanding of justice, and try to pigeonhole everyone one meets into the crimes one believes are worthy of damnation. I’ve run into countless people down here who *don’t know why* they’re damned—and yet they *are* damned, which means they’ve done something that *is* damnable even if they themselves don’t believe it. If people can’t understand their own sins, how can they be trusted to judge anyone else’s?”

Valera

They lean back as Alastor skips one can of worms for another, watching him as he broke down his reasoning. It was interesting, insightful, even if they didn't have much to say to him in response. He was right, after all. For them it was an alien concept, a novelty to roll around and discard when they were bored, just like so many other human notions. But not everyone was so lucky. A nod of agreement, and they flick their tail.

"You're right. My apologies, Alastor, it's easy to forget how... fortunate I am, to be in the position I'm in." A side eye at the other actors, who PROBABLY couldn't hear the conversation, but even so. "Something lighter, then. Have you had a chance to work on restoring your deathday gift yet? You did a fine job with Alexander, he's as glossy as the day you *finished* him."

Alastor

“Oh, that’s just to be expected. How many people have a chance to measure their lives up against the dead and damned, anyway? We’re not given opportunities to interact with anyone but our fellow prisoners and our jailers, and that’s by design.” He’s occasionally side-eyeing the other actors himself, but none seem to be paying attention.

“Oh—yes! Cleaned out the guts and got off the worst of the grime of age. I need to get a few cleaning supplies to finish the job, but soon the both of them will be spick and span!” Look at him beaming, the proud father. “How *is* Alexander? I wanted to talk to him while visiting your place, but his time seemed to be monopolized by someone else the whole trip!” He really did feel bad about that. He feels like he’s got something a duty to Alexander, but so far he hasn’t been able to meet it.

Valera

This was a MUCH better topic. Radios and mutual friends, much safer. They let their shoulders relax under the jacket, chirping as their fins waggle. "I'm sure they'll be as good as new by the time you're done with them, mon collègue. You'll have to show me how they come out. A beautiful antique is always twice as radiant when restored with care, and those radios were gorgeous."

Ah.. Alexander. Their face twists, a frown tugging at the corners of their mouth. "Alexander is.. alright, I suppose. Nothing terrible has happened, and I've been trying to work with him on his manifestations with generally mixed to positive results." They shrug, sighing through their nose. "I think he misses other humans. Or former humans, I suppose. We get along well, but he'll see something and start talking about.. Ponzi? Or his mother writing to him from the" Airquotes here as they squint "Dust Bowl?" What the fuck is a dust bowl? They don't know, it sounds like something a chinchilla would roll in. "And he loses me completely."

Alastor

“I’ll have Vaggie take pictures some time.”

Alastor’s eyebrows shoot up. “That poor man got tangled up with Ponzi *and* the dust bowl? Goodness, what an unfortunate life he lived! But you’re right, he really needs more humans to talk to, doesn’t he? I’ll—“ A pause, and then he says thoughtfully, “I’ll see whether I can contact him myself. If not, I’ll let you know and we’ll arrange a play date. If it works, though—you’ll probably hear about it from him.”

Valera

Contact Alexander himself? Valera opens their mouth to ask how, then it clicks. Right, radio to radio transmissions. Could Alastor reach radios outside of Hell? Maybe it would be easier if the radio was haunted, a bit closer to the fuzzy boundaries between Heaven, Hell, and Earth. Or, Okkylk in this case. Hm.

"I'll take your word for it, I haven't got the foggiest about what either of those are. What the *devil* is a Ponzi?" They've heard "Ponzi Scheme" said in movies, but maybe it wasn't even the same Ponzi! Maybe Ponzi was a normal human thing. Like a brand, they do love their brands... "But thank you. I think he'd benefit from having more than one very alien being to talk to."

Alastor

“Charles Ponzi! A con artist! He convinced a whole slew of people to give him a mountain of money to invest in what he claimed was some post office money-making scheme and that he’d double their money in a month or two. Instead, he pocketed the money, convinced *another* slew of people to give him money for the same scheme, used that money to pay off the first wave of suckers—and rinse and repeated until he’d scammed thousands and stolen millions! Spent a few years in prison, got out and tried another scheme, got arrested in dear old New Orleans trying to flee the country! You knew you weren’t going to be bored any time he showed up in the papers!” Alastor loves a good con artist story. “The Dust Bowl, I missed myself—just a little bit after my time—but from my understanding it was a big drought in the middle of the States that dried out a bunch of farmland. Lot of farming families starved those years.” Alastor loves a good con artist, but starving people are just sad.

Valera

This Ponzi guy should have gone into politics, hot damn. Valera makes a low whistle, nodding their approval. "That DOES explain why he thought about Ponzi, we were talking about the weird political scams my predecessor left me on the hook for when I snuffed him out. Though I think that Charles there pulled it off with more flair than that bird brain ever could have. What a character! I've got to respect that kind of daring."

Probably best not to comment too much on the dust bowl, that sounds like a downer. But, they did bring it up, and if they're talking about Alexander.. "That does explain it. I believe his family was based in that middle area." A nod, and they immediately jump to something less negative. "Let him prattle on at you about his electronics store, he'd love it. The man talked my fins off for twenty minutes about something called a Perikon Detector a regular asked him to order and I STILL don't understand why he was so exasperated about it."

Alastor

“Oh, did he ever have flair! There’s a story I heard about when news of his scams started hitting the papers—all his investors swarmed his offices to demand their money back, he went around to them one by one offering coffee and donuts and smiles, and charmed them so well they *left* their money with him!” Alastor laughs.

Perikon Detector? Alastor stares off into space a moment, trying to dig the term out of nearly-century-old memories. “... Probably because Perikon Detectors were replaced by vacuum tubes before ninety percent of the nation ever even *heard* of radios. What the hell did someone want a Perikon Detector?”

Valera

They laugh, clapping their hands together. Charles Ponzi, was it? They'd have to look the fellow up later just to see the details of his escapades, maybe forward the information to a certain lawyer they knew. But for now, their potential costar has been oddly silent..

Alastor in a state of blank befuddlement was a rare treat, and one that Valera enjoyed while they could before he seemed to snap back into focus with his scrabbled knowledge in hand. "You'll have to ask him for specifics, but judging by the choice of insults, this person had a habit of asking for obscure, outdated parts rather frequently. Maybe a collector? Upcycler?" They shrug. "I still have no idea what a Perikon Detector IS. It sounds like a little bauble they'd use in a bad sci-fi show."

Alastor

“Well, it detects perikons, obviously!” He pauses. Dead silence. “Right, forgot I gave the laugh track the afternoon off. You at least know what vacuum tubes are, right? They, uh...” Has Alastor ever actually learned what it is, *exactly,* that vacuum tubes do. He knows how to use them. He knows how to tell which one he needs. He’s put them in radios. He’s *made* radios. But his eyes glaze over whenever he tries to learn what exactly it is the electricity *does* in there.

“Well,” he says confidently, “they control electrons, you see. You’re not getting very far in electronics if you can’t control electrons.” There’s a smattering of laughter. “Shut up, you’re all on break. Anyway, you’ve got vacuum tube radios and crystal radios—there’s a crystal in a Perikon Detector, see—and vacuum tube radios actually need some electricity to power them—which means you’ve got enough electricity to also power a speaker. Crystal radios are powered only by the very radio waves they pick up, but you’ve got to squeeze headphones against your face to hear it—so not very useful if you want to use a radio while doing anything but sitting in one spot very quietly with your hands over your ears. A Perikon Detector is just one brand name of crystal detectors that pick up radio waves.”

Valera

Alastor's initial joke is delivered, and Valera rather wished it hadn't been. In fact, they'd like to file a formal complaint with the verbal post office, they seem to have delivered an auditory assault instead of pleasantries. Silence reigns between them, oppressive and all consuming like an unjust monarch, three eyes staring silent judgement at the Radio Demon for his awful, terrible, no good dad joke levels of comedy. Jingle the bells on your little jester hat, old man-- Oh wait, he's talking again.

Valera stops squinting, rolling their eyes with a groan. He's still telling bad jokes. Those are only funny when YOU'RE the one telling them, the bastard. But they're going to completely gloss over his evil sense of humor and focus on the technical talk, and if there's a little upward twitch of their lips it's his imagination. Shut up. Dad jokes aren't funny. "Interesting! I'd never even heard of a crystal radio before, humans upgrade their technology so quickly that it makes the mind reel. One of their.. Your? Finer features."

Alastor

Alastor is goddamn hilarious and a gift to the microphone and the world is better for him and his humor having been in it, if we’re not counting those murders he did. “It *is* one of our more impressive parlor tricks! Although, truth be told, only one we picked up in the last century or so!” A pause. “Last *two* centuries. I keep forgetting the 1820s aren’t a hundred years ago. Anyway, we’ve really picked up the pace lately, relatively speaking! I once heard someone say—I don’t know how he knows, but I’m sure someone looked it up—that for several thousand years, the human *pelvis* evolved faster than the plowshare! And then all of the sudden, boom! Factories! Steel! Trains! Airships! Radio! How did people before the nineteenth century not bore themselves to death, I’ll never know.”

Valera

Valera cocks their head to the side, mind casting back. "From what I recall about sixteen hundreds France from my earliest visits, there was a lot of interpersonal drama and dying from preventable diseases to keep people busy. Much less interesting than the industrial revolution. Though the water was also a lot *cleaner* back then." A dissatisfied scoff. "Late eighteen hundreds London was a foul, foul place. Only went once and I had a cough for a week."

Alastor

"Oh, *that's* right! *Human drama!* Entertainment at its purest! I would have been an insufferable gossip, I'm sure." His smile broadens with satisfaction at figuring out what he would have done before radio.

Valera

"Oh don't sell yourself short, Alastor. I'm sure given the chance, you could be an insufferable gossip now, too!" They flutter their lashes dramatically, fanning themselves with their hat as they titter like a fine court damsel. Okay, enough of that. "They should be calling you soon, no?"

Alastor

“You flatter me! If more people shared gossip with me, I *would* be!”

Oh, right. He’s here for the first audition he’s cared about since dying. He sits up a little straighter, ears almost lifting out of his absurd disguise hair as he strains to listen to the current audition on stage. Sounds like it’s wrapping up. “Probably.” He looks down at his printed lyrics again and, predictably, forgets how to read.

Valera

Valera glances at Alastor's paper, humming as their hands rest on their hat. Was he *nervous*?

"Are you nervous?" Wait they said that out loud didn't they. Well, shit. Better commit. "What did you say you were doing again? The Major General's Song?"

Alastor

He's gonna ignore the hell out of that first question. "Yes, Modern Major General—and I learned a couple of songs from the show, more or less. I don't know what they're going to ask for. I figured at a minimum Modern Major General would show I can sing fast enough for the parts, if they don't want anyone to sing from the show."

Valera

If he'd actually answered the question, Valera would have probably accused him of being an imposter. Alastor wasn't known for admitting to his emotions unless you happened to be a Victorian steampunk snake, and even then. A sigh, and they lean back in their seat as much as their tail allows. "They let me sing Will Wood, so I think your selection should be perfectly sufficient. You even went with another musical theater song!"

Valera

Even then, he only just sort of failed to deny straightforward accusations. Kind of like what he just did. "I'm glad I didn't go with Will Wood," he mutters.

Yep, there's no more singing or talking from the stage, they're definitely wrapping up. Any second now.

Valera

It sounds like Alastor's turn is coming up, and good timing on that. They had no idea how to respond to his mutterings beyond pointing out that no casting director in Hell was likely to have heard of a semi obscure avant-garde jazz musician. Which might not even be accurate, maybe he was popular down here.

Out comes the phone, the ultimate distraction to ignore a potentially awkward silence. Better to end the talk on a positive-ish note, considering they're going to be seeing this garishly dressed man on the daily for possibly months. Sit next to one Alastor, text another, barely suppress snorts when the second gets confused about "phish food" being an ice cream flavor. As a fish does.

Alastor

The most recent actor comes backstage again, and another demon calls, “Next, uh... Lass?”

Alastor hops to his feet. “That’s me! That’s my name.” He turns to Valera. “Stage name. Drag name, usually, but as long as I’ve got the hair and the dress today—Anyway!” He claps a hand on Valera’s shoulder. “Tell me to break a leg!”

Valera

They glance up from their phone at the name call, sliding their eyes back down as Alastor hops up. Off he goes then? Maybe not, he's talking now, they should respond--

They make a very undignified BWAGH at the unexpected touch, hat flying off their lap as their whole body jumps. Then immediately pretends it didn't happen, clearing their throat noisily. What? No, they didn't just jump out of their scales. "Break a leg, Alastor."

Alastor

*Wheeze.* He doesn’t apologize but he *does* quickly take his hand back, which is probably as close as they’re gonna get from him. “Thanks!” He startled the hell out of someone and got a quick laugh out of it, that does something to steady his nerves. He folds up his lyrics, tucks them away god-only-knows-where, and strides out. Showtime!

Valera

Valera watches him go, shaking their head as they stand. Well, that's one radio demon out of their hair. Time to go willingly throw themselves at another one! The hat is plucked off the floor, and off they go. Not too shabby a day, not too shabby at all.

#chat log #autokrates

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missjanjie · 4 years

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Hold Me Tighter (Even Closer) | (6/?)

Title: Hold Me Tighter (Even Closer) Summary: A sequel to Hold Me Closer, Tiny Dancer. Brooke Lynn and Vanessa are back at NYU, but with new and improved positions. Brooke’s ready to start her career as a professor when, as fate would have it, she realizes her TA, Jackie, might have the hots for a student named Jan. The couple just might see it as a sign to give two new girls the love story they found in the same place. Word Count: ~3k (this chapter) / ~18k (total) Relationship(s): Branjie (Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo), Jankie (Jan Sport/Jackie Cox) Rating: E

read on ao3 | ko-fi

Chapter Summary: Jan gets closer to a flirty, French castmate, and it awakens a green-eyed monster in Jackie. Meanwhile, Brooke and Vanessa are readily and eagerly working to avoid ‘lesbian bed death’.

Jan had thrown herself into Heathers rehearsals as soon as they began. This was her element, when she was at her best. Simply practicing her songs on stage gave her a serotonin boost, it was addictive, always has been.

Having a great cast helped perpetuate that positive energy. Jan usually got along with everyone she acted alongside, but she’d butted heads in the past. But everyone seemed genuinely relaxed and fun. One castmate she had gotten particularly close to was the girl playing Heather Chandler, a French student named Nicky.

Initially, Jan was intrigued by how easily Nicky could switch her fake American accent on and off. Being terrible at accents herself, that had been the catalyst that’d gotten them talking. Then she allowed herself to acknowledge how attractive Nicky is – it was hard to ignore, considering how openly and casually she flirted with her.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Nicky asked out of the blue during one rehearsal.

Jan cleared her throat and looked down. “Well… Short answer, no.”

“And the long answer?”

She let out an awkward laugh, toying aimlessly with the hem of her shirt. “No, but I have a friend who I’m, you know, hooking up with. And no one ever believes me when I say that’s all there is to it,” she explained.

Nicky nodded as she listened. “I believe you,” she offered. “I’ve hooked up with plenty of my friends. I do not see the big deal of it.”

Jan clasped her hands together and nodded quickly. “Yes! Exactly! Finally, someone gets it.” The vindication she felt was immediate and intense. That was precisely what she had been swearing up and down, mainly to Gigi, but to anyone that questioned her as well.

“How long has this been going on?” She asked, amused by the dramatics in Jan’s response.

Jan paused to count on her fingers. “Um… a couple weeks, give or take.”

Nicky tried to hold it in but burst out into a fit of giggles. “Sorry, sorry, it’s just… You’re this worked up over a girl you’ve been fucking for two weeks? Have you considered this to be why people think you are more than friends?”

“You don’t understand,” she insisted, “our whole relationship is complicated.”

“Is she married? Inside the closet?”

“No, but, um, she’s my TA.”

Nicky’s eyes lit up in interest. “Oooh, comme c’est scandaleuse!” she gasped and pressed her hand to her chest, then leaned closer to Jan to urge her to go on. “Which one is it? Is she hot?”

Jan’s gaze returned to the floor, this time fidgeting by running her fingers through her ponytail. “Of course she’s hot, give me some credit here,” she giggled. “Do you take History of Dance?”

She shook her head. “No, but I wish I did now, damn. I guess you’re both lucky,” she winked.

------

“Remember, we’re working on the traffic light system,” Brooke Lynn was saying as she tied a silk blindfold around Vanessa’s head, covering her eyes. “Red is stop, yellow is slow down, green is go.”

“I know how traffic lights work. I’ve gotten enough tickets for running them,” Vanessa chuckled. While they had relied on safe words in the past, they decided to try something different, something they thought would be more effective and allow for clearer communication.

Brooke laughed softly. “Every day I thank God that you don’t drive anymore.” She waited a beat, allowing herself to shift into the ‘domme mode’ her wife was patiently waiting for. Sure, they couldn’t be as spontaneous as they’d been in the past, they were both excited for the quality intimate time they’d carved out. “Now, go lay on your back.”

Vanessa readily obliged, laying on her back with her head nestled in the pile of pillows that was always on their bed. She listened to the sound of the bedside drawer opening and closing, then let Brooke manipulate her arms until she got them in position. Her heart started beating faster as her wife tied silk rope around her wrists, the other ends secured around the bedposts.

Once the ropes were firmly secured, Brooke took a step back to admire just how perfect Vanessa looked. They had picked out the lingerie set together – a strapless red bra with matching panties, garters that connected to knee-high fishnets. She loved how Vanessa looked in red – she could stun in any color, but something about red against her golden-brown skin was just perfect. Her outfit was similar, though her lingerie was black and her bra had thin, lace straps.

Brooke crawled on top of Vanessa, her hands dipping under her to unhook her bra, tossing it aside. She kissed her languidly, hands roaming the expanse of her body, then moving one to pinch and tweak her nipples while the other teasingly rubbed over the front of her panties. “You’re being such a good girl for me,” she praised, pressing kisses down her neck.

But as soon as Vanessa had started to get used to the pleasure, she lost the contact and just barely swallowed a whine. She couldn’t discern much noise, but she was able to tell that Brooke was undressing, and her heart rate picked back up in anticipation.

“Mommy’s going to sit on your face, okay?” Brooke got back on top of Vanessa as she spoke, moving further up her body, but stopping short to wait for an answer.

Vanessa nodded. “Yes, please,” she breathed out, adjusting just enough to get more comfortable.

Brooke shifted her hips over Vanessa’s face and held onto the headboard so she wouldn't need to rest all of her weight on her head. “Fuck…” she let out a soft, pleased gasp when she felt her wife’s tongue ease into her, but stayed still until Vanessa picked up a steady rhythm.

Vanessa’s instinct was to try to hold onto Brooke’s thighs, but with her wrists bound, she had to trust that Brooke would ride her face with the right amount of pressure and fervor. The bit of risk it brought, the way her other senses were heightened with her sight gone, it sent an intense wave of arousal through her body. She had to squeeze her thighs together just to keep herself from getting too distracted from the task at hand.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Doing so well,” Brooke moaned, her hips rolling steadily, keeping time with Vanessa’s movements. Her grip on the headboard tightened, knuckles turning white. “Shit, gonna make me come,” she warned not long after.

Vanessa nodded the best she could, thrusting her tongue faster, sucking on Brooke’s clit harder. She could tell when Brooke came by the way her body trembled and eagerly fucked her through it, only stopping when she sensed her getting off the bed.

“You did so well,” she praised, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Mommy’s gonna reward you now, baby.” As she spoke, she reached into another drawer, this time to pull out her strap-on and hook it around her hips. She sauntered back to the bed, taking her time running her fingers up Vanessa’s legs, sliding off her panties. “Soaked already, my eager little slut,” she cooed. She pushed Vanessa’s legs apart and moved between her thighs, pushing forward just enough for the head of the silicone toy to rub against her slit, conveying what her intentions were. “Color?”

“Green, fuck, please,” Vanessa couldn’t get the words out fast enough. She kept her legs propped apart, waiting in desperate anticipation until she finally felt Brooke ease into her, eliciting a loud moan.

Brooke was slow at first until she was certain Vanessa was comfortable. Then she began thrusting harder and faster, pushing Vanessa’s legs back and holding onto her thighs to get a better angle. “Mm, there we go, you take Mommy’s cock so well,” she praised.

Vanessa arched her body towards Brooke, fervently writhing in time with her thrusts. She moaned and cursed and babbled to the point where Brooke couldn’t discern what language she was using.

But Brooke loved it, she loved being able to fuck her wife into a hot, moaning mess. She kept one hand on Vanessa’s thigh while the other moved to rub her clit in tandem with her thrusts, eyes trained on her face to watch for the second her orgasm hit.

By the time Vanessa had finished riding out her orgasm, her body was sweaty, trembling, and her head was in a blissfully dizzy fog. She let out a sigh of relief when Brooke untied her and took off the blindfold, and eagerly accepted the water bottle she gave her. “Shit, didn’t realize how badly I needed to get fucked like that.”

Brooke chuckled softly as she got in bed and pulled Vanessa close. “See? I told you we had nothing to worry about. No lesbian bed death here.”

“Oh, don’t act like you wasn’t a little worried,” she teased. “But we’re good. I love you so much,” she tilted her head up to press a tender kiss to her lips. “We might have to re-evaluate the ‘mommy’ thing once we got a kid, though.”

------

Jackie moved quickly as she packed up her things after Brooke’s afternoon class. “You have everything else covered, right?”

Brooke arched her brow as she watched Jackie scurry about. “Yeah, I’m fine. Where are you off to in such a rush?”

“Rush? I’m not rushing,” she insisted. “I mean, I thought I might stop by the auditorium on my way back home, you know, just to see if anything’s going on.”

“You mean to catch Jan when she’s getting out of rehearsal to hit her up for some totally platonic sex?”

Jackie huffed and pulled her bag over her shoulder. “No! I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to it…”

“Just embrace being horny, Jackie. It makes the sex more fun,” Brooke chuckled as she gathered her things. “Speaking of which, I’m gonna head out and pick up dinner so I have time to rail my wife when she gets home. We’re on a hot streak. Bye!” She left before Jackie could complain about the oversharing.

“Embrace being horny, Jackie. I’m gonna rail my wife, Jackie,” she mocked to herself once she was alone, continuing to mutter in discontent as she made her way out of the classroom and towards the auditorium. The door just off the side of the theater’s front row was propped a bit less than halfway open, allowing her to inconspicuously peer inside.

Jan and Nicky were sitting about ten feet away – just close enough that when Jackie peered in a bit more, she was able to eavesdrop on the two.

Nicky was sitting on the floor with Jan between her legs while she braided her hair. “What shampoo do you use? Your hair smells so nice.”

Jan beamed brightly at the compliment, only to frown as her brows furrowed. “Y’know, I don’t remember what it’s called, I just started using it a few days ago. I’ll text you a picture when I get home, though.”

“Or you could just take me into the shower with you and I’ll find out for myself,” she teased, nudging Jan’s leg with her own.

“Nicky!” Jan giggled, playfully pushing her thigh, though her hand lingered, and she found herself grateful for how warm it still was in late September, allowing Nicky to wear short shorts and her fingertips to lightly stroke across the smooth skin. It was harmless, she would remind herself. Harmless flirting. Which she was allowed to do because she was single.

Jackie, however, felt sick to her stomach. Her legs carried her away from the auditorium before her brain even told them to. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to vomit or cry or take a nap, she just knew she felt bad. But with that bad feeling came a sense of anger and frustration – who the hell was she to be upset by that? It wasn’t like she could blame Jan for flirting with a hot blonde with a French accent.

On top of everything else, Jackie didn’t even want to vent her feelings to anyone. She was sure Brooke or Jaida would be quick to say ‘I told you so’ if she admitted that she didn’t like seeing Jan flirt with someone else. Hell, she knew she would be struggling to admit it to herself for at least the rest of the night. “This is nothing, this is stupid,” she muttered to herself, “she’s not your girlfriend, you guys are just having sex, get over it.”

“Harsh mumbling to yourself. Never a good sign.”

Jackie was startled and jolted back into reality when she realized Katya was walking in step with her for at least the past few seconds. “Huh? Oh, I just… you know, have a lot on my mind. Busy times.”

Katya chuckled softly. “You don’t have to pull that act with me, kid. I know all about your situation, I went through this shit with Brooke and Vanjie too, remember?”

“This isn’t like that,” she insisted. “I was just… caught off guard when I saw Jan flirting with who I assume is one of her castmates. She’s pretty. Blonde. French.”

“Uh-huh,” Katya did her best not to laugh, but a chuckle slipped out. “I wonder how you say ‘jealous’ in French.”

“Jalouse,” Jackie answered automatically, then huffed and added, “which I’m not!” But then her expression softened into a timid, almost childlike one. “Because I’m not supposed to be, right?”

“God, you young lesbians have one fucking setting and it’s ‘hopeless pining’,” she observed, then placed a gentle hand on Jackie’s shoulder. “Look, you’re human. You’re having human feelings about the human person you’re having human sex with.”

“Please don’t say ‘human’ again. You make it sound like there’s an alternative option.”

“I mean… vampires, ghosts, possibly-”

“Katya!”

Katya cleared her throat as she got herself back on track. “Right, right. Anyway, my point is that there’s nothing inherently wrong with how you’re feeling. It’s normal, and maybe you should consider talking to her about this.”

Jackie shook her head. “I can’t do that. I don’t wanna come off as weird and needy. I’m supposed to be the wiser, more mature one. I’m kind of her teacher, after all.”

“You’re overthinking, just drop the act and work out how you feel. Yes, even if it involves talking to Jan,” Katya told her, then paused, scrunching her nose. “Wow, I’m experiencing some intense deja vu here.”

“Oh, don’t compare this to Brooke and Vanjie,” she huffed. “It’s different.”

“Yeah,” Katya agreed, “you’re much more difficult.”

------

As Jan and Gigi left class, Jan couldn’t help but feel that something was off. “Did Jackie seem… weird to you today?”

“She’s always kinda weird,” Gigi shrugged. “I thought that was part of the appeal. Like, the sexy nerd shtick or whatever. Maybe it’s just the thick-rimmed glasses that do it for you,” she laughed at her quip before refocusing on Jan. “Why, what did you think was wrong?”

Jan gestured vaguely, hoping the words would come to her. “I dunno how to explain it. She seemed distant, I think. Almost cold, like she didn’t wanna be there. And I mean, she could’ve just called in sick if that was the case, but still. It felt uncomfy.”

“You worried she’s gonna stop putting out?” she teased. “Hey, if your bed stops feeling empty, you could always hit up Nicky.”

“No, no,” Jan groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s not like that, none of that. If something is wrong with Jackie, I wanna know. You know, in case I caused it or could help fix it. And… I haven’t decided if I’m gonna pursue anything with Nicky yet.”

Gigi arched her brow. “But you’re considering it?”

“I’m not not considering it,” she admitted. “Jackie and I aren’t in a relationship, she doesn’t even know about Nicky. I can have a sex life outside of what we have going on if I want to” she defended, then looked down, her voice quieting as she continued, “I just don’t know if I want to.”

“Sounds like you’re a little worried about her finding out about Nicky.”

Jan scoffed and crossed her arms as they walked. “I am not! I mean, I’m not gonna make a point of announcing anything, but it’s not any of her business. I don’t go around telling all of my friends about who I’m thinking about hooking up with. Just you, because you’re borderline unhealthily involved in my personal life.”

“Only borderline?” Gigi laughed lightly. “It’s just so fascinating to me how you’re so unwilling to admit you have feelings for Jackie. You wouldn’t even hesitate to get with Nicky if she didn’t mean anything to you, or if she was actually ‘just a friend’. I just don’t get why you’re being so stubborn.”

“Because I don’t know how I feel!” Jan finally confessed. “Whenever I think about it too much I get flustered and dizzy. Maybe there are feelings there, maybe it’s just chasing the high from the sex. The point is, I don’t wanna shake everything up until I know for sure where my head and my heart are at, it’d be too messy and someone could get hurt.”

This caught Gigi by surprise, the both of them stopping in their tracks to process what Jan had blurted out. “Huh. You know, that’s the most sense you’ve made on the subject so far. But it sounds like you’re… I dunno, afraid to take a risk. And I get it, trust me. But what’s the point of college if not to take risks and try new things? You guys have chemistry, like, it was obvious from day one. I just think that means something.”

Jan sighed and leaned against the wall. “Maybe it does,” she conceded. “Maybe I am afraid.” She looked back down the hall as if she’d see Jackie waiting there for her. “I know I can’t avoid talking to her forever.”

#branjie #jankie #rpdr rpf #rpdr fic #rpdr fanfiction

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avidrawsthings · 3 years

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If you were to give Stands to other HPHM characters who would you see and he best candidates and why?

Starting with why: It's simply because I wanted to explore their characteristics more. It's in part why I initially cut it down to 4 others outside of Reina and Ricardo (Talbott, Rowan, Barnaby and Ben). Torvus was definitely a top contender but in the end I left him out since I've never drawn a centaur before and on top of that I wanted to keep the profiles to a minimum so I wouldn't be overwhelmed. I'm still not sure why I burn out easily. Just the 5 I worked on (Reina was already completed this time last year) took months of work, on and off.

For the time being I'm leaving the following 8 characters as ideas that I might get to at some point. I at least already figured out their powerset and even have placeholder names for each of their Stands (the only official one is Torvus'). Placeholder names will be highlighted in blue. Anyway, onto the chosen characters!

As usual, I tried to make it as short as possible but it still ended up being lengthy. Sorry about that XD

Torvus

I'd like to think his Stand manifested sometime after the arrowhead was stolen from him, and it helped contribute to his exile. Torvus wanted nothing to do with his Stand at the time, thinking it was some kind of bad omen. It wasn't until after befriending Reina that he understood that wasn't the case.

Stand: Sagittarius

Powers/Abilities: Can summon numerous arrows he can control the trajectory of. Can also create elemental arrows, allowing each type to produce different effects.

Jae

He'd totally have a Stand that would help him in seeking out and selling his contraband. It manifested for him some time before he started Hogwarts. As he's not confrontational, his Stand would also help him to avoid getting caught, and make a quick exit if necessary. He'd have a Colony type Stand, meaning it's composed of small units with the power and strength divided between them. Jae's count would be a unit of about 1000 maximum, which can go around undetected, gathering items and intel. His range would be massive, at it extends to places he's already been to no matter the distance.

Stand: Work Smarter Not Harder

Powers/Abilities: Can multiply itself to 1000 units maximum. The units are smart enough to take orders from Jae and seek out what he asked them to get. They can move around undetected, gather around Jae to help him hide, and can combine to form portals for instant travel from one place to another. They can also be sent out to spy and replay conversations back when asked.

Diego

His Stand manifested some time after he started school. His abilities would help expand his skills as a duelist, so they'd consist of short range teleportation and creating blinding lights to stun his opponents. He can also absorb sunlight to boost his Stand's own power, and can create some pretty sturdy shields when enough power is stored. However, being the honorable guy he is, Diego will rely on his own skills when dueling classmates. In the case of more serious threats, he'll summon his Stand.

Stand: El Dorado

Powers/Abilities: Blinding lights, short range teleportation, blinding lights to stun opponents, solar light absorption and shield generation.

Badeea

Being very imaginative and highly creative in her own right, her Stand would reflect that by expanding on her skills as well. Being so focused on her art, I can totally see her not even realizing she had such a "spirit" at first. She strikes me as the one that hasn't stopped painting from the moment she picked up her first brush as a little kid, and she saw her Stand as a byproduct of her spell creation.

Stand: Avant Garde

Powers/Abilities: She can bring art to life outside of the canvas, so even items she draws are made real as long as it's nothing too complicated. She can also create different paints to create different effects, like mirror paint, glitter paint and so on. I'm thinking of maybe also letting her create paint copies of herself to increase productivity.

Andre

His Stand would manifest around the time he realized his potential as the Fashion Wizard extraordinaire. While I already have an OC with the following abilities (from my story Earth 14), I felt they'd suit Andre just as well. He'd have Cloth Creation and Manipulation. While it gives him balanced offense and defense, outside of duels, Andre sticks to his fashion designing.

Stand: Haute Couture

Powers/Abilities: He can create outfits that come to mind out of any cloth he knows of, and can also manipulate the properties of existing clothing. Simple fabrics can be made as durable as shields from various spells, and in the cases of opponents, distract them by using their own clothes against them.

Liz

I went the Rowan route in my au and gave her a few personality tweaks of her own. This Liz began coming out of her shell with the help of Rowan and the others, improved her people skills and learned to not be so reckless when it came to valuing creatures over the safety of people (like with the Chimera incident). I wanted Liz to be more than just the "animal lover that prefers them over people" person. She learns to value both sides and gained enough skills to be willing to duel for their safety if necessary. Her Stand would manifest sometime during their 6th year, once it nearly hit home that R was not above murder to get what they wanted.

Stand: Sanctuary

Power/Abilities: The primary power is Summoning. Liz's Stand takes the form of a deck of cards, with each card containing a magical creature she's familiar with. The deck grows with each new creature she learns about. Said creatures can be summoned from these cards to serve various purposes (fighting, defense, transportation, etc). If the summons are defeated, they'll simply return to their card for future use. All summons are loyal to her.

Ismelda

In this setting Ismelda gradually matured out of her whole edgy phase and became a more rounded out person thanks to her friendship with Reina and the others. She stayed friends with Barnaby while distancing herself away from Merula throughout their 5th year. While she still likes messing with people, it's easier to tell there's no malice behind her words. I don't know why I like this idea so much, but her Stand would take the form of a large doll that can split into 40 smaller ones that can move freely on their own. When it's time to fight, their form changes into half-human, half-spider.

Stand: Arachnophobia

Powers/Abilities: The Stand can split into smaller variations of itself and move around freely. They gain half-spider forms when they switch into battle mode, and in addition to enhanced speed, they can also produce different webs to provide different results (elemental webs). The webs are very powerful and can be used to trap and imprison opponents as well.

Chiara

Of course best girl is gonna be the healer of the group. Honestly with her desire to be a Healer and helping around in the Hospital Wing, it suits her perfectly. Her Stand manifested some time after she was bitten by a Werewolf as a child. She saw her Stand as a wonderful gift after seeing it was capable of healing. As her knowledge and experience in healing grows, so does her Stand's capabilities.

Stand: Medela

Powers/Abilities: Healing. Early on she was already able to reduce the healing time required for most injuries. Her Stand evolved to heal broken bones, internal/external injuries and lacerations in a matter of seconds, and with high surgical precision. It can also heal most injuries inflicted from Dark Magic, and later on can even restore missing body parts depending on the severity of the damage. The healing also extends to other creatures, animals and even plants. While it can't cure lycanthropy, as a passive effect it grants those afflicted with mental clarity so that they won't lose control when transforming, bypassing the need for Wolfsbane Potions. This extends to Chiara herself. By her 6th year her Stand could split into 5 copies of itself to heal more people in a short amount of time.

#ask avi #jjba au

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bjy-on-ao3 · 3 years

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Hi, I really enjoy you writing, especially your Persona content. The way you portray Adachi is on point, at least in my opinion. So I'd like to request Adachi being visited by his s/o in Prison (during a conjugal visit) and they have sex, please?

Here you go, Anon~ I hope you enjoy!

I once was considering something like this in the past, but crushed my own hopes when researching stuff. Turns out only a handful of countries allow conjugal visits (Japan not among them), as well as only a handful of states in the U.S. and not for heavy crimes like murder (which makes sense considering) - and even then they aren’t exclusively for sex stuff. However, knowing that someone else wanted something like this lets me suspend my disbelief a little and write it, anyway.

(There’s still a LOT of stretch here though, so don’t take this as a source of information. For example, the visitor isn’t strip-searched - but it’s more fun to have that as part of the fic.). Also funny enough, this is the first non-dubcon/noncon Adachi fic I’ve written for some time. (As usual, you can find the AO3 version of all my uploads [and some things I don’t post here to tumblr] via my Masterlist blog page.)

Tags/Warnings Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Slight Cockwarming, Vaginal Sex, Wall Sex, Begging, Established Relationship

Summary In which Adachi gets a conjugal visit in prison from his s/o for not-so-wholesome purposes.

Fic Friday

Pent-Up Penitentiary (F! Reader/Tohru Adachi)

Going through the long, tedious process of filling out paperwork and waiting for approval, you had wondered again why a conjugal visit to your boyfriend in prison sounded like a good idea. Not that sound decision making was your strong suit, considering you had chosen to stay with him after the revelation he responsible for the murders of two women. Maybe you secretly had a death wish of your own. Or you thought you knew him better than either of those women had and that knowledge protected you. That aside, you had spent a lot of time alone with him. If Tohru Adachi had wanted to kill you by now, you figured you would have already been dead.

The boring and seemingly endless paperwork had been a mild inconvenience compared to the next part of the process. A strip search was mandatory, they informed you, and you had hated every second. Sure, it was a fantasy you had played out before, but with Adachi, not some random idiot whom you barely knew and cared nothing about. ‘It’ll be over before you know it and worth it’ you had repeated silently, pulling a sour face the entire time. Finally, it had ended, and you let out a breath of angry relief you didn’t realize had caught in your chest.

The more difficult parts of the process behind you, they had escorted you to the designated area - a short row of plain, small single-story buildings surrounded by a tall, sturdy fence that towered oppressively on all sides. A reminder your visit served only as a temporary illusion of normalcy and when it was over the bars, bulletproof glass, and shitty phone systems would separate you all over again. Your face fell as you dwelt on that reminder, freed from your thoughts when the escort officer stopped by a door and cleared his throat, nodding to it before returning toward the gate.

Taking a deep breath to tamp down the fluttering in your chest, you opened the door and stepped inside, taking a quick glance around the interior. It was much more than you expected - nicer than some studio apartments you had seen in Inaba, outfitted with a small kitchenette and bathroom, an archway with no door leading off into a bedroom. In the central area there was a coffee table and even a small television, sitting opposite a comfortable, but well-worn looking couch.

As you stepped further into the blandly decorated space, the sound of the door opening and shutting interrupted your inspection. You heard boots on the floor come to an abrupt stop and sensed a presence behind you. “This is… nicer than I expected.” You said casually, turning in place.

Your eyes fell as expected on Tohru Adachi’s face. His lips were set in a small, bare smile that was tired, cynical, and, dare you say, a little happy, all at once. You knew if you mentioned that last emotion he would vehemently deny it and suggest you get your eyes checked. “Well, not the process, that was awful, but this,” you added with a wave of your hands.

“Go figure, even criminals get it better than hard-working people,” he answered, and you could hear his bitterness. Having heard his feelings before on how he seldom got what he felt was owed to him, it was no surprise. “Whatever, that’s not what we’re here for,” he dismissed, shaking his head as if to banish the thought.

You didn’t step forward to embrace or kiss him, simply waiting for him to make the first move. If you knew Tohru, a few months behind bars would not have turned into a ball of sappy emotions. Even if he had thrown himself at you, you knew he would have told himself it was all carnal need, not sentimental in the slightest. Besides, he liked to lead the show. “Strip.” The word was demanding, and to almost anyone else, you were sure it would have sounded cold.

“Straight to the point,” you answered, unruffled. You knew the game with Adachi. Many months dating the man - from shortly after the murders, up to the time of his apprehension - had taught you a lot. “You never had any patience,” you ribbed with a half-smile, but didn’t move to shed any clothes. It was more fun if you didn’t make it that easy on him - especially when you had a good idea of how he might respond.

“Oh? I’m the one who has no patience?” He moved away from the door until he was so close you could feel the heat of his body and breath. “I don’t remember being the one begging all the time before,” he reminded you smugly, and you felt your face flush.

“Only because you-” you argued.

“Ah ah,” he touched a slender finger to your lips, cutting off your argument almost childishly, “enough flapping those pretty little lips.” You felt your skin heat further and a vague hum of arousal between your legs, catching an undercurrent of excitement beneath his condescension. “Get undressed. Now.” The last word was hard and low, but the glint in his eyes was more devious than angry. “Unless you want to be punished?” Adachi added, grabbing your chin in one hand and tilting your head to ensure you looked directly into his grey eyes.

You wet your lips involuntarily - a quick flash of pink that Adachi’s eyes followed - before swallowing thickly. “Like you won’t punish me anyway.” You countered, enjoying the expressions swirling in his gaze.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it.” In a quick motion, his hand swept from your chin to the back of your head, curling his fingers harshly in your hair near the root. You groaned in response, biting down on your lip at the sting that shouldn’t have been so pleasant. “That’s what I thought,” Adachi hissed cheekily, “Now don’t make me say it again.”

He released your hair and let his arms drop, taking a step back so you had space to undress. You rubbed your scalp gingerly before finally obeying, starting with your shirt. You unbuttoned and peeled the garment away, revealing the low cut cups of the bra you had bought for the occasion. You peeked at Adachi as you stripped, the tingling between your thighs quickly rising, joined by growing dampness that made you press them together for an instant of relief. Next came your skirt, which you shimmied out of as enticingly as you could, revealing panties to match the bra.

You reached back, undoing the clasp bra clasp and letting the straps slide off your shoulders until they caught around your elbows, the cups falling away. Your nipples, already half peaked from excitement, stiffened fully with exposure to the cool air. “That’s better,” Adachi said appreciatively. He stepped back toward you as you pulled off the bra and tossed it onto the floor, reaching forward and greedily filling both hands. “God, I’ve missed these tits,” he confessed, kneading roughly before he began to tweak and roll your nipples between his fingers.

You sighed and moaned at the rough touch you had craved since Adachi had been sent away. It wasn’t the same when you fondled yourself alone at night - the warmth of his skin and calloused feeling of his hands was impossible to replicate. “They’re all yours, Tohru,” you breathed, almost dreamily, eyes drifting shut, surprised by how much of a relief his touch on your body again was.

But Adachi wasn’t about to let your sudden compliance go unnoticed. “Look at you, acting like a brat before,” he pinched a nipple especially hard as if continuing to punish your previous defiance. “But you sure sing a different tune once I get my hands on you. What’s the change of heart, baby? Did you miss me?” The words were mocking, rather than sweet, as if the thought of missing someone was something to be humiliated about.

You fought through a whimper while Adachi continued to grope at your chest, attitude not entirely driven away by the thrill of having his hands on you again. “I don’t know, did you miss me?” You asked, imitating his tone.

He pressed in closer, dipping his head toward your neck and nipping it sharply. “The only thing I’ve missed is your body,” he said dismissively, squeezing your breasts hard enough you gasped and whined. “Your tits and that sweet ass and tight little pussy,” he growled in your ear. “I missed what’s mine.” His voice rang low and possessive, and he sealed his claim by latching onto the racing pulse in your neck and sucking a dark mark into the soft skin.

“Fuck you, Tohru,” you cursed, feeling your cunt throb in reply to his words. “I-I don’t even have to be here.”

Adachi straightened up, and when you met his eyes again, you recognized a dark tint among the hunger. “Oh? Then why are you? Admit it, you wanted this as much as me.” There was cruel delight in his voice. You knew he got off on putting you in your place as much as you did from agitating him. “Missed my cock so bad you were willing to let a stranger strip search you to have it again.” Your chest heaved as one of his hands drifted down your stomach and over your hip, and you couldn’t suppress another lewd sound. “Because you know no one else can make you feel as good as I do.”

His wandering hand stroked over your clothed cunt, before slipping to your backside and pressing your hips into his so you could feel his hardness through his slacks. “But it’s been a while. Maybe I need to remind you,” he mused.

The hand on your chest moved to your head, forcing you down onto your knees in front of him. You looked up, eyes half-lidded and pupils wide. You licked your lips again, eyeing the bulge in his pants. Even if you took pleasure in insolence, staring up at Adachi as he loomed over you like a starving beast was insanely arousing and you were willing to be compliant.

“I forgot how hot you look on your knees where you belong,” Adachi sneered. He wet his lips as you had, but the same action on him was hungry and predatory. Pinning you in place with his lustful stare, he reached to unbuckle and strip off his belt and unfasten his pants. He pulled out his cock, flushed and leaking, and stroked it for a moment. He didn’t miss how your gaze followed the relaxed motion or the way he smeared the pearl of pre-cum on the head over it. “Tell me how much you want my cock and maybe I’ll let you have it.”

You hesitated, running your tongue over your lips, eyes remaining on his cock. As much as your on-and-off bratty act irritated him, it made watching you struggle between it and your desire for him before eventually giving in so satisfying. He smirked as he spied the instant of resolution pass over your face. Your hooded eyes flicked up to meet his, lips wet and slightly parted. “Please, Tohru?” The words weren’t sickly sweet, instead oozing arousal. “I want your cock. I need it.” You continued to look up at him, lustfully and hopefully.

“Hmm,” he hummed, pretending to mull over your plea, “I don’t think you want it bad enough,” he said, and only your craving for what was in front of you kept you from half-heartedly rolling your eyes. Adachi always liked to push, and that hadn’t changed in your time apart.

But giving in to start made it easier to keep going. “Tohru, let me suck your dick, please. Don’t you want me to?” You did what you could to give him your best pleading expression to match your words. “I promise you won’t be disappointed.”.

The signs of Adachi’s smug satisfaction increased, your pleas stoking the rush of power and hunger he enjoyed so much. “There’s the little cockslut I remember,” the way he said it, the degrading name sounded almost like praise. “I guess you’ve earned it.”

He buried one hand in your hair, tilting your head back and pulling you toward him. You eagerly met him the rest of the way, slipping the head of him past your lips. You sucked lightly at first, swirling your tongue and dipping it into the slit before tightness in your hair urged you forward. You gladly took more of him into your mouth, relishing the familiar taste and weight on your tongue. Letting your eyes droop nearly closed, a satisfied moan escaped your lips as you hollowed your cheeks and began a steady pace, loving how Adachi’s hand in your hair flexed.

There was a low, answering sound from above you. “Fuuck, I’ve missed this. You look so good sucking my cock.”

Eyes opening, you glanced up as best you could. Adachi’s intense stare met you, wide blown pupils rendering his stormy eyes nearly black and his chest rising and falling quicker. The tantalizing look sent a shudder through you, encouraging you to continue with even more enthusiasm. You lay one hand on the leg of his slacks, bracing yourself as you went on. Adachi cursed again, rolling his hips forward, and only the hand on his leg kept him from choking you on his dick in surprise.

Streams of swears and a few lewd names muttered under heavy breath drifted from him, accompanied by several more bucks into your mouth, until his pace was almost constant. After the first you had prepared yourself for more, knowing they would come, focusing on relaxing your gag reflex. You still choked a few times on his length, but reigned in the spasms, feeling a few tears well up and burn your eyes and a single stray trail of saliva drip down your chin.

The labored breathing above you escalated, as did the number of curses and obscenities until they seemed to blend. “Damn, you’re gonna make me cum if you keep that up. Shit,” he swore, and the strain in his tone was obvious.

His cock twitched on your tongue, rewarding your efforts with more salty pre-cum, before the hand in your hair stiffened. His harsh grip stopped you, sunk down on his cock as far as you could go, and you glanced up questioningly. The rock of his hips had come to a full stop, not the stuttering pace you were used to when he was about to cum. He tugged you off his cock completely and you whined in protest.

“Tohru, please.” Having gotten a taste of him again, you wanted nothing more than to finish what you had started.

He blew a quick puff of a silent laugh through his nose, his pompous expression marred by the lurid flush on his cheeks. “Who’s the impatient one here, again, sweetheart?” He teased. Your lips twisted in a frown and your brows furrowed, bottom lip sticking out sulkily. “Heh, you look so cute pouting like that. Don’t worry, I’ll let you have plenty of my cum later. But not yet.”

He pulled you up roughly, steering you towards a wall as soon as you were properly on your feet. You stumbled, your back hitting the wall with a thump that made you wince and mutter a quiet curse. The prick of pain was quickly forgotten as Adachi closed in, pulling your panties down so eagerly they almost tore, eliciting another sound of quiet protest before you kicked them away. He hiked your legs up around his waist, pinning you against the wall with the force of his hips.

When his dick slipped slickly against your pussy lips, your head fell back against the wall with another thud, a low hum coming from your mouth. You rolled your hips and pushed against him, admittedly just as impatient as Adachi was to have to his dick inside of you, but only brushed the swollen head over your clit.

“Bet you’ve been thinking about this as much as me.” His lips were warm against your ear, breath rolling over your neck in hot puffs. “Tell me you want it and I’ll give it to you,” he coaxed, wanting to hear you beg again now that he was pressed so close to your heat. You groaned, wishing he would just hurry and fill you up rather than play more games. “C’mon, baby, speak up. You went through all that trouble, didn’t you? Tell me how much you need my cock again.”

“I want it. Now,” there was an edge beneath the desire, the hint of your impatience and annoyance. “Fuck me, Tohru. I can’t take it, I need your cock. I can’t wait.”

Adachi didn’t make you beg further, pleased with the filth he had drawn from your lips. He adjusted the angle of his hips before lining up with your slit and pushing inside. You groaned and he sighed as his thick head slid past your opening, each hot inch of his cock stretching you in a way you didn’t realize you had missed so much. He pulled back a few inches, before rocking his hips back and smoothly sinking into you completely.

A growl met your ears before his lips touched your neck, sucking hard. You gasped and cried out, hips reflexively grinding against him as you basked in his lips and the fullness from his dick. “Ah, fuck, better than I remembered,” he breathed when his lips left your skin, giving a languid thrust out and back in, to the delight of you both.

You hooked your ankles together around his waist, urging him closer, deeper as his thrusts became more steady. His lips returned to your throat, peppering your skin with nips and sucking more small marks into it. Hands clenched around your thighs, Adachi shifted you against the wall, the new angle letting his cock stroke you in a way that elicited even more excited sounds from your lips.

“Yes, fuck, Tohru. More, more, harder,” you pleaded.

“Fine, sweetheart, I’ll give you more,” he answered, the force of his hips driving harder until each thrust left your head feeling thick and foggy. “I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t think about anything else,” Adachi promised. Sure enough, all you could care about was the pleasurable ache each time he pounded into you and the cruel, seductive rasp of his voice.

“Yes, yes, please. Fuck me until I can’t think of anything else!” You echoed, again pressing him forward with your heels and trying to meet each brutal thrust. Your mouth hung open, every sound unrestrained and wild. “More, more, more,” you repeated like some obscene chant.

“Just can’t get enough, can you? You asked for it, sweetheart. I’m gonna fill you up again and again and you’re gonna love it,” he said, his bawdy words reaching through your lust-addled mind, making your cunt clench more greedily around him. “Maybe I’ll just keep fucking you until you pass out. I bet my little cockslut would love that, wouldn’t you?”

“Aah, fuck, yes!” All you could do was agree with him, your stubbornness long forgotten in the throes of the ecstasy you hadn’t been able to relive in months.

“Fuck, almost there,” Adachi breathed when your cunt contracted around him extra tight, as if trying to force him to fuck you even harder to draw out of its embrace. “I wanna feel you cum on my cock first. Touch yourself for me,” he compelled you, how close he was getting plain in his husky voice and labored breathing.

“Fuck, Tohru, yes, anything for you,” you agreed, in a tone even further gone.

You reached down almost mechanically, fingers clumsily reaching just above the place your bodies met and rubbing your clit urgently. Already awash with pleasure from Adachi’s rough pace and dirty words, your body reacted swiftly to the new attention, the buzz of pleasure in your gut transforming into a hot coil that threatened to snap.

“That’s right, anything for me,” he agreed possessively, his eyes glued to where your fingers worked feverishly and his cock disappeared into your body. “Who do you belong to, baby? Who’s the only one who gets to fuck you like this?”

You struggled to answer him with coherent words, the spring in your belly reaching its breaking point and bursting in ripples of heat. “You, Tohru, I’m all yours. Only, aaah, you, you, you,” your speech melted into an incoherent jumble of wild cries and expletives, unable to focus any longer on anything but the delicious clenching of your pussy and the electric waves of pleasure crashing over you.

“Fuck, that’s right. So here’s a reward for my sweet little whore,” he degraded, leaving sloppy kisses and more bites on your neck, his pace spurred on by your cries. “Just the start of how much I’m gonna fill you up tonight.”

With his promise, he stiffened against you, bucking especially hard several times into your trembling heat. He came in hot spurts, filling your cunt with warmth until it seeped out around him. He murmured your name low, before biting hard into your neck, a yelp interrupting your moans.

When Adachi was completely spent, he withdrew, easing you back onto your feet and stepping away. Legs weak and threatening to buckle, you stayed against the wall for much-needed support, eyes closed and panting heavily. Nearby you heard the rustle of fabric and the soft sound of more clothes hitting the floor.

Before much longer, you were yanked away from the wall, nearly falling. You opened your eyes to see Adachi stripped down to nothing as well, and despite how tired you felt, you couldn’t help but linger for a moment on his cock, still half-hard.. Adachi pulled you through the open archway to the bedroom, dragging you down onto the bed. He pulled you roughly against him until your back met his chest, both damp with sweat.

“Tohru, let go,” you complained, feeling overheated and sensitive. Surprise jolted another moan from you as he groped your thighs, spreading your legs long enough to bury himself in your heat again.

“Weren’t you listening? I’m gonna fuck you until you pass out, sweetheart.” he reminded you snidely, curling his arms around you. One splayed across your stomach, the other squeezing a breast roughly, but almost absently. “I just need a little more motivation first.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing he couldn’t see. “Sure, motivation. Can’t just call it cuddling like a normal person, can you?” You accused dryly.

“Shut up,” he snapped. You had a feeling his face was flushed with a mixture of anger and humiliation at your words. Whatever he wanted to pretend, his actions spoke louder than his defensive words. “You sound a lot better when your mouth is stuffed with my dick. Maybe I should just put it back to better use instead,” he threatened.

“Well, I am still waiting for that taste, Tohru.”

#writing #fanfiction #ao3 #tohru adachi #fandom #fic friday #nsft #n/s/f/w #upload #anonymous #asks #answers #request

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hollywooduniversityalumnus · 3 years

Text

5. headhunter

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Another day, another lecture.

Thomas paced in front of his students, having abandoned his stance before the lectern more than half an hour ago. With only fifteen minutes left until class ended, and still much to cover, he spoke at a slightly faster speed than usual. He doubted his students noticed; most of them had packed away their notebooks already and were distracting themselves with their phones held in their laps.

Fools, he thought. Do they think I don’t know what they’re doing?

He didn’t have time to raise hell for their insolence; he had a meeting to attend. So, as much as he hated letting things slide, he gritted his teeth and pressed on.

“The more credited ‘writers’ a film has, the worse it will be. The sheer number of revisions a screenplay must go through to rack up six, seven, eight writers . . . it’s appalling!” He rubbed his temples with his fingers, as if trying to erase the memories of his time trying to – and ultimately passing on - play script doctor for an action-adventure franchise that had employed no less than eight writers to cobble together the final, nonsensical storyline that effectively alienated large droves of the franchise’s fans.

Checking his watch, he mentally cursed at the time before heading right for his desk.

“Remember, your papers on prewar and postwar experimental cinema are due next class. Any submissions sent in later than precisely nine o’clock in the morning will be deducted points. None of you could stand to lose any points, if the grades so far for this class this semester are any indication. Class dismissed.”

Thomas turned his attention to packing up his things and hightailing it out of the lecture hall. Yet, beyond the rush of feet moving towards the door and mindless chatter about what people’s plans for the evening were – did I ever consider Wednesday nights party nights in college? he wondered briefly – he could hear a few distinct voices among the din.

“Since when does Hunt check with you before he does something?” he heard Ethan Blake say.

He paused in the middle of stashing away his laptop.

After a pause, Miss Schuyler said, “I just meant . . . don’t you think he’d tell the class before-”

“Are we really discussing this in front of him?” Miss Sinclair stage whispered.

He lifted his head to find the three students still standing by their desks, looking directly at him. Upon capturing his attention, they started at being caught and leapt into extremely unnatural stances: Ethan Blake rubbed the back of his neck with one hand while staring pointedly upwards, Miss Sinclair focused intently on the palms of her hands, and Miss Schuyler . . . was still looking at him, but had pasted a terrifyingly wide smile on her face.

He glanced again at his watch. He truly didn’t have time for this.

Rolling his eyes at the trio, he headed straight for his office to grab his jacket and keys. Then, it was off to the inanely named restaurant where he’d be meeting the faculty recruiter of Southern California University’s film school.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

“Don’t you think he’d tell the class before ditching us in the middle of the year?” Margot asked. “He isn’t the type to cut and run. I just know he isn’t! We can’t let him leave!”

Ethan’s eyebrows rose. “You’re awfully emotional about this news.”

Margot glared at him over the table grill of Grilling Me Softly, a Korean barbeque restaurant that opened twenty minutes away from the university. Their platters of pork belly, lemon-and-herb marinated chicken, chadolbagi, and bulgogi had arrived, and it was her turn to do the cooking. She tweaked with her hair, which she’d pulled up into Sailor Moon-like buns to keep the long locks from enticing the flames.

The sight of her with metal tong poised in the air and her glare piercing him from across the circular table had Ethan quickly changing his tune.

“It’s good that you care,” he backtracked. “I just . . . if there’s any professor who would evoke that kind of response from me if there were rumours of them leaving, it would be, like, Moriyama. Someone with a heart.”

Addison, who was already digging into her portion of their wild mushroom japchae starter, nodded, cheeks bulging with food.

“He did defend me in my hearing, or have you forgotten?” Margot picked up a few pieces of meat from each plate and dropped it onto the grill, reveling in the satisfying sizzle and steam that instantly came out upon contact. “He’s not so bad.”

Addison dabbed at the corners of her lips with a napkin. “Okay, but how are we going to convince him to stay?”

A body slid into one of the seats next to Ethan so suddenly that the agent nearly leapt from his. Crash, smiling broadly, immediately reached for a bowl of soft rice and egg, chopsticks at the ready in the blink of an eye.

“Convince who?” he asked.

“Jesus, Crash,” Ethan said, pressing a hand over his heart to calm it.

“We’re convincing Jesus?”

Margot rolled her eyes. “Where’s Lisa? Didn’t she give you a ride here?”

Crash, around a mouthful of egg, mumbled something about paparazzi. Margot craned her head around just in time to see her pink-haired friend arrive, settling into the seat beside her while keeping her gaze focused on one of the booths in a corner of the restaurant.

“Hey, Lisa,” she said, turning the meat over with precision.

Lisa wrangled her hair into a high ponytail, securing it with an acid-green scrunchie that clashed horrendously with her outfit and made Addison mentally weep at the fashion faux pas. She finally tore her gaze away from the corner and shot them all a look.

“Hunt’s here,” Lisa said.

Margot’s eyes widened. “Here? In a place called Grilling Me Softly? There’s no way.”

Ethan snickered. “I feel like he’d disintegrate before he’d set foot in a university student hangout, much less one with a punny name.”

“Maybe it’s another man who wears a suit every minute of every day,” Crash suggested.

“Uh, this ‘university student hangout’ is more expensive than our usual fish and chips or burger joints,” Lisa pointed out. “Still, isn’t it strange? And who is that woman he’s with?”

Margot’s cheeks flushed at the mention of a woman.

Not that she had any claim on him whatsoever. She wasn’t even sure of her feelings for him anymore. Sure, they had . . . something, but it wasn’t clear what it meant to him, and she didn’t want to act like a fool for him if he was solely focused on being her instructor.

Maybe he’s a friend now, she considered. He’s done some friendly things. He’s held his umbrella over me, drove me home after the date auction, and comforted me on the movie set. He didn’t have to do those things, but he did.

He also kissed me, she reminded herself, and she quickly busied herself with replacing the meat on the grill with new slabs, distributing the cooked pieces to her hungry friends.

Meanwhile, with the subtlety of a bull in a china shop, Ethan maneuvered his head until he caught a glimpse of the professor sitting in the corner booth. He squinted at the person he was seated across before turning back to his friends, a mixture of awe and shock on his face.

“Penelope Locke,” he said in a hushed voice. “Headhunter for Southern California U.”

Lisa’s eyes flashed with excitement. “Like an assassin?”

“Who would eat dinner with their assassin?” Ethan replied.

Crash smiled. “I would, just to say I did.”

“You wouldn’t have survived-”

“Guys.” Margot turned her attention back to Ethan. “A headhunter, eh? So he really must be considering leaving Hollywood U.”

Her stomach twisted. Though the smell of the sizzling beef and pork belly was intoxicating, she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to eat any of it knowing that Professor Hunt was sitting across the room possibly planning his escape.

And then the dak kalguksu she ordered came, and her stomach untwisted itself in anticipation of the noodle soup she’d been craving for weeks.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Across the crowded restaurant, Thomas tasted the plum wine Penelope Locke ordered for them both and sighed. It wasn’t scotch, but it would tide him over until he could get home and have a few fingers from his favourite bottle before bed.

The woman sitting across from him knew his game already, but still pitched him on an open faculty position at SCU Cinematic Arts. But mostly, she kept her expression serious, even when they endured the forty-five minute “meeting” with mostly small talk and occasional glances at the paparazzi waiting for . . . whoever was important enough to be present and photographed at a place called Grilling Me Softly.

Eventually, the bill arrived. Penelope tucked a credit card into the black leather booklet quickly and handed it back to them. Thomas polished off his wine before slipping out of his seat.

“Thank you, Penelope,” he said quietly.

“Anything for a friend.” Penelope’s face was carefully blank as she added, “The paparazzi was a nice touch. They’ll hear about this meeting in no time.”

“Perfect.” He pulled on his coat. “Though I admittedly didn’t plan that part.”

He turned his head to survey the room, searching for the person who had attracted the photographers outside like moths to the table grill’s flames. A shock of pink hair that he usually saw in a bedhead disarray caught his attention, and he groaned internally at noticing that Miss Schuyler and her entourage (including the celebrity in question, Lisa Valentine) were stuffing themselves with near-reckless abandon.

“Do you know them?” Penelope asked, tilting her chin towards the group.

Thomas grimaced. “Yes. I’ll admit I’ve never seen them eat before. It’s . . . rather disturbing.”

Penelope laughed. “Good thing we arrived when we did. They might bankrupt this restaurant yet.”

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

The week after his meeting with Penelope, Thomas settled behind his desk in the lecture hall as his Hollywood 101 class filed in slowly. He had already laid out the grading rubrics for the students presenting their midterm projects that day. And, as the presentations began, he immediately regretted staying out a little later than usual the night before, catching up with an old colleague who had since become Hillview Film Academy’s recruiter.

Seriously, Thomas thought, Lance’s continued attendance at this university is inconceivable. Who does a midterm presentation on “glossy, tangle-taming hair masks for the modern male model”?

When it came to Miss Sinclair’s presentation, however, he was admittedly impressed by the line of men’s business suits she had come up with. Though he felt she should have cited a more recent point of inspiration than Mad Men or Sex and the City, he marked her accordingly, noting the special craftsmanship and detail-conscious care that she had put into every suit on display.

I wouldn’t mind wearing the gray one . . .

Clearing his throat authoritatively, he spoke up. “I’m surprised at your drastic change in artistic direction, Miss Sinclair. I hope you have defended your decisions in the accompanying write-up.”

Miss Sinclair nodded.

Thomas checked his list. “Finally, Mister Yamaguchi.”

Spencer Yamaguchi grinned, already making his way to the door. “All right! I’ve got it all set up in one of the auditoriums. It’s a one-man show about a plucky hero, who struggles with his-”

“Save it for the show, Mister Yamaguchi.” Thomas sighed as he looked at his neatly organized desktop. “And in future, please inform us beforehand if we are to move locations for project presentations. That goes for all of you.”

Grumbling, Thomas picked up his rubrics and laptop and herded the class to the auditorium. While they settled into their seats, Mister Yamaguchi disappeared behind the red velvet curtains that obscured the stage. Among the murmuring of the students waiting for the show to begin, Thomas could hear a microphone check and a five-second snippet of music being tested on the sound system.

The lights went down.

The curtains came up.

A spotlight turned on, illuminating a backdrop of two-dimensional high-rises and streets edged with trees and parked cars.

And the song that had begun to play as part of the sound system check began and continued as the protagonist appeared.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

“Welcome to The Many Adventures of the Amazing Arachnid Boy!” crowed Crash from where he dangled from the ceiling, parallel to the stage. “I’m your host, Arachnid Boy himself, and this is the story of . . . me.”

From behind her, Margot could hear Professor Hunt snort. Hearing such an undignified sound from him made her smile.

The hip-hop beat kicked in, and Crash began climbing a cardboard skyscraper, freestyling about his new superpowers without stumbling over his words. His dark red leather jacket had an iron-on spider-shaped patch on the back, and he turned around to show the audience it as the song slowed down for a melancholy bridge.

“No one knows my pain, no one knows the strain,” Crash sang, “on my mental health, gotta be so stealthy . . . I know I seem witty, ‘cause I fly above the city, but when I stop, I can’t stop, I won’t stop . . .”

The beat kicked back in, and he jumped around and immediately leapt to the next cardboard building with exuberance.

“I can’t risk someone getting the drop on me, finding out my identity, putting the serenity of my family at risk . . . ya hear me, villains? Take a shot at me, you’d better not miss!”

As Crash’s show continued, Margot snuck glances over her shoulder at the professor. He seemed more shocked than anything else, and his pen was moving at lightning speed over the paper he had balanced on a clipboard.

Hopefully those are good notes, she thought.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

After Mister Yamaguchi’s self-insert rip-off of an existing superhero defeated its archenemy, the Emerald Elf, the audience around Thomas jumped to its feet in raucous applause. Thomas brought his hands together twice before returning to his notes, jotting down some last-minute observations – rhymed “city” with “litty”; did the Emerald Elf need a self-deprecating R&B solo? – and then ushering the class back into the lecture hall.

“Our presenters for next class are Miss Valentine, Miss Stone, Mister Ortega, Miss Perez, Jayden, and Miss Schuyler. The remaining students will be presenting the following class. Until then, class dismissed.”

As Thomas unlocked his laptop to begin inputting grades, he sensed someone sidling up to him. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who might be approaching him.

“Hello, Professor,” Miss Schuyler said softly. Her bag was already slung over her shoulder. A quick glance to the door indicated that her friends were leaving her behind; he almost wished he could call them back in, to make sure that whatever it was she had to say was said in front of witnesses.

After the Fairy Kingdom Formal, he’d felt odd whenever he so much as looked at her. He wasn’t sure what to make of the new sensation. He worried that it meant something. But it couldn’t, could it? She was a decade younger than him. She was his student. It couldn’t be-

She told you about her childhood, he reminded himself. She confided in you. It’s not love. It’s you worrying over how she lived when she was younger. That’s all.

He wanted his thoughts to stop right there, but they kept coming anyway, like a second inner voice had joined the conversation to argue a different opinion.

You knew it was her at the masquerade. You spoke with her. You danced with her. You kissed her.

Stop.

You took care of her when she was hungry, cold, and sad. You slept in the same bed as her.

It meant nothing. It was nothing-

You drove her to her dorm after Chris Winters left her in the aquarium. She told you she thought you mattered to her, and you lived off that feeling for days after.

Stop-

You held your umbrella over her. You helped her get to her ride home with little incident.

That doesn’t mean anything-

You like her.

Stop-

You might even love-

“Professor?”

He blinked and found himself staring up at a very concerned Margot.

“Are you all right?” She adjusted the strap on her shoulder. “I was just . . . did you like Crash’s musical?”

He felt a bit dizzy. “It was interesting,” he said slowly.

“Good interesting?”

He cocked his head to the side, which didn’t help the vertigo. “I always find it fascinating when students suddenly decide that their passions have changed, Miss Schuyler.”

And, though she was an admittedly talented actress, Margot did not hide her nervousness. “Oh, yeah. I see how that could be interesting.”

“Might you know anything about Mister Yamaguchi and Miss Sinclair’s newfound passions?” he asked, mostly to see her squirm.

There, see? he told himself. I revel in making her uncomfortable, in treating her just like all my other students. This “love” theory is absolute bull-

“Maybe.” Her eyes widened comically. “I mean. Um. That’s all. Bye.”

She sped-walked out of the hall, and Thomas took a minute to gather himself before turning back to his laptop.

Sifting through his notes, he took extra time with Miss Sinclair and Mister Yamaguchi’s rubrics. They had both delivered impressive projects, ambitious if a bit contrived, but if her reaction was anything to go by, Miss Schuyler had something to do with their sudden fascinations in suits and musical theatre.

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He can’t leave. He just can’t.

Margot had been standing in the main building of the university with her friends, rehashing Lisa’s surprise operatic performance as well as her own avant-garde film she directed, when she saw him hurrying towards a clearly marked administrator’s office. Though his stride was purposeful, and he attracted attention wherever he went due to his being Thomas Hunt and all, something about him radiated the energy of a man who did not want to be seen.

Before knocking on the door, she watched the professor take a deep breath.

And then he stepped through the doorway and out of view, leaving her to draw her own conclusion.

“I hope we did enough to convince him to stay,” she said quietly.

Lisa placed a hand on her shoulder. “If my rendition of Pavarotti didn’t convince him, I doubt anything could.”

“He did like your film, Margot,” Addison said reassuringly. “He didn’t trash it or anything!”

“Sad how that’s a good sign, isn’t it?” Ethan lamented.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

The first class after the midterm project presentations was mostly silent. Thomas had planned it that way; after hearing some of the most illogical projects from this class, he wanted a break from them in a way that still kept them on track with the semester work. He was playing a series of short silent films on the projection screen while he finalized the midterm grades, and apart from some minor whispering – another thing he’ll temporarily turn a blind eye to, as he simply did not have the energy after faking so many recruitment meetings the past ten days – it was peaceful.

“Any word about Hunt’s job situation?”

Or not.

Before Miss Sinclair could reply, Thomas cleared his throat.

“Miss Schuyler. Care to share with the rest of us what you were about to ask Miss Sinclair?”

He’d never seen Miss Schuyler’s cheeks so red. They almost suited her, drawing attention to her high cheekbones-

Stop.

“Not with the rest of the class, no, Professor,” she murmured.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Then perhaps you will share it with me . . . after class. My office.”

She nodded, turning her attention back to her worksheets.

And, as he similarly went back to his own work, he fought to keep the grin off his face.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

“You wanted to see me?”

He leaned back in his chair, setting his arms on the structured arm rests of his chair. “I know what you and your friends have been doing. Don’t play dumb. Miss Sinclair designing suits, Mister Yamaguchi doing a musical, Miss Valentine singing opera.”

She winced. “I guess we were kinda obvious.”

He rolled his eyes. “Extremely obvious.”

“Did it work? Are you gonna stay?”

Was he imagining the eagerness in her voice? The hope that permeated those questions, as if she wanted him to remain at the university, to continue being her professor? He worried he was projecting, but there was something about the way she was looking at him that made him feel . . .

Made him feel.

“Do you want me to?” he asked.

She shook her head hard enough that her earrings clacked against her neck. “No. No, I – don’t leave.” She caught herself and added, in a much less emotionally wrought voice, “In my opinion, anyway.”

He looked at her, taking in her slightly trembling hands.

She looked at him, noting the curiosity in his eyes.

Desperate to know what the other one was thinking, but afraid of what they might be thinking of, they stared for a long moment in silence, trying and failing to read each other simply from body language.

Finally, he said, “Then it’s a good thing I was never planning on leaving anyway.”

She let out a sigh – of relief? he wondered – and sunk into the chair opposite him. Instantly relaxing into his own seat, he watched her take a few calming breaths before looking back at him with a new question burning in her eyes.

“Wait, so if you were never planning to leave, then why did you meet with those admins from other schools?”

He smirked. “For leverage during salary negotiations, obviously. I only do it when I feel it’s necessary, and this past year has been quite trying, particularly due to some students.” He looked pointedly at her, and she feigned shock.

“Crash’s musical was ingenious,” she argued.

“Stan Lee’s estate is on its way with a lawsuit as we speak,” he said dryly. “Dr. Seuss could – and has – written better verses.”

“Those are fighting words, Professor.” Margot’s eyes twinkled. “Crash could write The Cat in the Hat, but Dr. Seuss could not write ‘Emerald Elf Hates His Emerald Self.’”

#thomas hunt #thomas orson hunt #only fools fall for you #hollywood u #fanfiction

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