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outofsstyles · 4 years

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WILDEST DREAMS

a/n: soo I’ve been working on this for a little while now and I’m very excited to share it with you al!! This piece is inspired by Taylor Swift’s music video for her song Wildest Dreams. If you’ve never seen the video, or don’t remember it really well, I recommend you watch it *after* reading the story so you don’t get it spoiled! If you’re interested then you can watch it by clicking *right here!!*

Word count: 17.2k Rated: M, mature

You agree to help your friend on her film project and Harry is playing your love interest.

“You’ve been frowning a lot and haven’t said a single word in the past five minutes, what’s wrong?” You looked up to your quiet roommate sitting opposite to where you stood near the kitchen counter.

A playlist you both had made months ago, meant only for cooking days, as Nia had instructed, played faintly in the background. You hummed along to the melody of a song you didn’t really know the name of, but had listened to it enough to mumble the lyrics, as you focused on cutting banana slices.

Nia was the one who brought up trying out a new fruit smoothie recipe she had found while scrolling around on Pinterest. She was pretty excited after coming home with the groceries, ready to start the process. Which is why seeing her sitting quietly as she glared at her phone was a big sign that something was wrong.

“I think Jordan is about to pull out on us,” she groaned loudly, locking her phone and throwing it on the counter, running her hands on her face, “I can’t believe this is happening a week before filming starts.”

“Oh, that’s not good news” you said, looking back at your friend’s defeated state in front of you as you threw the banana slices into the blender. “What happened?”

“He said he decided to go with his cousin to Ibiza.” Her arms muffled her voice as she lied on top of them, sighing once again, “this is the third one that leaves, I might as well just cancel the entire thing and fail this class.”

You rolled your eyes lightly at her, shaking your head as you listened to her dramatic reactions. Being her friend for as long as you have, you knew how stressed Nia got with a project, specially something she was passionate about. She was always too hard on herself, trying to push everything to be as perfect as possible, which is a good thing when you focused on the ultimate results. But she often tended to over-stress herself, and that’s what makes you worry.

With this one in particular, you could tell how excited she was from the day her teacher assigned it. She came back home and rambled for hours on end about making her first film. Which is why when she begged you to be part of it, and you couldn’t find it in your heart to say no.

It was a small production after all, it just being Nia and her partner Evan, whom you have known had gotten close to her in the past months. She assured it would a rather simple concept, with only two characters. The trickiest part being the fact that they would film it out of town, in a camp house that belonged to Nia’s aunt. You had agreed to it to make her happy, and with her promise of buying you chocolate muffins. Most uni students, however, didn’t seem as keen to sacrifice a week of their spring break as you were.

“You’re being dramatic Nia,” you reassured, turning on the blender and cringing at the loud noise that took over the place. “Maybe they just read on the script that they would have to kiss me a couple of times and got too nervous about it,” you tried to humor, raising your voice a bit before turning the processor off. Nia looked back at you with a serious expression, making you scoff, “calm down, grumpy pants, I’m sure Evan knows someone who can do the role, stop worrying.”

“All I do is worry, you know that,” she sighed, standing up to walk towards the cabinets behind you. She selected two matching cups that she had gotten for your birthday, one had Elsa printed on it, and the other Anna. You smiled as she placed them on the counter, knowing you always thought matching friendship objects were silly, but Nia loved it, so you loved it too. She looked vaguely at the blender, letting her shoulder weight down. “At least we have a banana smoothie.”

“And something else!” You said, jumping on your feet to get to the fridge and retrieved a tupperware. You held it in her direction and smiled, “leftover spaghetti from Joe’s!” you exclaimed, attempting to brighten her mood. She looked back at you, grabbing the container from your hands, as she tried to fight back a smile.

“Yes, how could I forget the leftover spaghetti?”

As the days passed by, the both of you had gotten more stressed out. Nia was still worried about everything related to her film project. With the days passing by and no one to fill the other role on the script, she found herself on a daily cycle of stress breakdowns.

Just two days after your former cast partner dropped out on the project to spend his week on the busy beaches of Ibiza, she had bought three different boxes of hair dyes. And as you helped her turn her hair into a light shade of pink, she cried about how everything seemed to go wrong in her life.

Meanwhile, you had been struggling to fight your procrastination tendencies and try to finish as much work as possible before spring break. A task that was showing itself to be extremely difficult, considering your mind seemed more focused on binge watching true crime shows on YouTube.

The blank document stared back at you from your computer screen, as you wished that if you looked at it for long enough, the essay would somehow write itself. Writing a couple of words but soon deleting them and going back to an empty page, you signed. Why was it so difficult to introduce a topic? You took a sip of the hot drink on the sparkly Cinderella mug you had chosen for the day, another one of Nia’s Disney-related possessions.

You frowned at the blank document, your failure to write a single paragraph still open in front of you. You heard a light knock on your bedroom door, but before you could even say anything, you spotted the already fading pink hair coming into the room.

Nia walked in jumping excitedly, saying your name in little squeals and almost tripping down as she made her way to sit on your bed in front of you. Breathing out, she looked at you with a big smile and messy hair before blurting out.

“We’ve got you a husband!” you stared back at her, arching your eyebrows. You knew she was referring to the role on the film, but you still laughed off at her choice of phrasing. “Evan got someone, it’s like his old friend or something, said he trusts him not to drop out.”

“Well, fourth time’s a charm, I guess?” you smiled at her.

“We’re planning a pizza night this Friday, so we can, you know, set the details and all that.” She properly lied down next to you, playing with the strings on the hem of your pajama shorts. “Also so you two can meet each other, of course, you’re going to be married for a week after all.”

“The way you say it seems like we’re actually doing it,” You laughed, finally closing your computer, and moving down to face her. “We’re just playing characters, Nia.”

“I know, I know… You’re really no fun, aren’t you?” She moved her arm up to support her head and poked you with her free hand as you rolled your eyes at her. “Also, he seems pretty cute, Evan showed me his picture, maybe you two can hit off.”

“I’m sure he is,” you tried not to fall for her attempt on teasing you over someone you don’t even know. Sure, you’ll be playing love interests, but you’ve done this plenty of times before, back on your theatre days. Kissing someone on stage doesn’t mean you have feelings for them in real life, and you knew that pretty well. You sighed, looking down at her, not wanting to engage into this kind of topic.

“Anyway, should we celebrate your new cast member and my inability to write a single sentence about art history?” you changed the subject, trying to distract yourself from your own thoughts. “We could watch Devil Wears Prada and make caramel popcorn.”

Nia gasped dramatically, “these are the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard coming from those pretty lips of yours,” jumping to her feet as she pulled you to stand with her. She then ran out of the room, screaming back, “I’ll get the blankets and you start with the popcorn!”

It’s been years since you’ve known Nia, but yet the dynamic between the two of you has never really changed. You’ve always considered yourself very lucky for having a friend like her in your life. From the day you met her in your English class, it was like seeing someone you had already known your entire life; it was always that easy to be with her.

You two became inseparable from day one.

Looking back, it’s crazy for you to realize how well your high school plans with each other had turned out. Most people you know had those friends in school they only really talked to because they saw them five times a week. But as soon as graduation came by they parted their ways and became only good nostalgic memories for one another. With the two of you, everything just worked out.

You both got into the university you wanted, ready to get matching art degrees. On your second year of college, you moved in together. And halfway through the course, Nia just dropped out to enroll on an eighteen months film school. And that’s when she met Nate.

You always knew she was destined to be that kind of person who just has one great love in her life. Which was funny considering that anyone who spent over five minutes with her and Nate in the same room could swear they would never work together. They just were those kinds of couples who are the polar opposite of each other.

Nia was a little social butterfly, who could start a conversation with anyone about anything. She could talk for hours with the old ladies at the grocery store about how the new brands of beans are just not as good as the ones not as well known. Or chat with the yoga moms about a new reality show that had premiered on Netflix. She loved experimenting on new things, trying out new recipes or mix distinct colors together on her clothes.

Nate, on the other hand, just wasn’t much of a talker at all. Since the start of their relationship, he often stops by at your apartment -wearing a different shade of grey every time - but it would be a lot to say that you two have had a conversation for longer than five minutes. He just mostly kept it to himself.

They balanced each other, which is why they worked so well.

It would be a lie for you to say you didn’t think about having something like that for you. You thought maybe you just weren’t the kind of person to have one meaningful relationship in your life. And that was okay. You’d like to think you’re better off on your own, anyway. But now and then you wondered how it would be to fall asleep in someone’s arms every day.

But you tried your best to keep those thoughts locked away in the back of your head. You knew that for the most part love is not really meant to last, Nia was just part of the lucky few.

The atmosphere in your shared apartment was cozy, as you waited for Evan and his friend to arrive before you started the pizza hangout, as Nia called it.

You both had spent the day tidying up the place, trying to decorate it a bit with some fairy lights and nice pillows you found in your room. It had been a long time since you had done any kind of social gathering in your home, and Nia wanted everything to be perfect. She even insisted on making the pizzas herself, which took most part of the afternoon, and a lot of bossing around on her part.

By the time the food was in the oven and the only thing left to do was wait, her boyfriend joined the two of you.

She was very talkative and bubbly, as she usually is, getting the wine bottles she selected for the evening and placing them on the counter as she chatted with him. It was nice seeing her back do being her usual self after such a stressful week.

You got the right amount of glasses, placing them next to the bottles, as you hummed along to the Declan Mckenna’s voice playing in the background. You weren’t really paying attention to Nia’s babbles, catching a word or two as she rambled about some dolphin documentary she had to watch for one of her classes. Pouring out a glass for yourself, you looked over to Nate who had a puzzled look on his face, as he tried to make sense of whatever rant his girlfriend had going on. You took a sip of your wine, and laughed lightly at yourself at the contrast between the two of them, something you had always found very amusing to observe. But before you could go further into your thoughts, the sound of the buzzer took over the small apartment.

“They’re here!” Nia gushed, as she quickly made her way out of the kitchen to get the front door, yelling back at you to get the pizzas out of the oven.

“Yes, ma’am,” you teased after she left, earning a light chuckle from Nate.

Making your way around the kitchen, you took out kitchen gloves that had figures of little chicks printed on them, giving one last check inside the oven to make sure everything was ready, before opening it and taking out the food. You could hear Nia greeting Evan excitedly in the background, as she rushed him and his friend to come inside. As their voices got closer, you turned your back to the entrance, concentrating on not burning yourself while you placed both pizzas on top of the counter.

“There’s our star!” You heard Evan’s loud voice taking over the kitchen space, making you look over your shoulder and laugh at him.

You turned around while taking off the gloves, as he pulled you into a tight hug, the strong scent of his cologne invading your nostrils. He wasn’t much taller than you, making him being considered short for a man. But his presence in a room was always so loud and bright that he seem much bigger than he actually is. You pulled back and looked at him, suddenly feeling underdressed in your own home. His entire outfit was bright red, being consisted of a jean jacket and silk pants, his eyes matching with vibrant eyeshadow taking over his whole eyelids.

“It’s very nice to see you again Evan,” you smiled at him, his hands still holding onto your shoulders as he looked warmly at you. “It’s been too long! You look fabulous!”

“Oh honey, you flatter me too much! It’s why I love coming here,” he scoffed playfully, coming to your side and wrapping one arm over your shoulder as he guided you. “But tonight is not about me, unfortunately. It’s about the two of you.”

As you finally moved your attention to the kitchen entrance, you realized another presence standing there. A man, who you assumed was Evan’s friend, already smirking down at you as both of you approached him.

You suddenly felt nervous under his stare while you could hear Evan commenting on something you didn’t really pay attention to. You had been taken completely by surprise by the man standing in front of you. Sure, Nia had mentioned to you once or twice that he was good looking, but you were not expecting this.

It was a weird feeling, being this affected by someone you had just met, but you would have to be blind not to notice. His face was beautiful, a sharp jawline contrasting his soft skin, his fingers poked at his bottom lip as he smirked, you could notice the hint of a dimple forming on his cheek. His hair was short, but still long enough to see the shape of slight curls forming in it, some locks falling charmingly against his forehead. But what hit you the most were his eyes, thanks to the dim lighting you couldn’t really tell if they were a shade of forest green or more of a hazel tone, but you could feel your cheeks warming up from the way he watched you as you got closer.

His shoulders were broad, as he was leaning against the entrance, the hand that wasn’t poking at his lip resting inside the pocket of his brown pair of trousers. He wore a blank white shirt, partly tucked in, underneath a beige cardigan. The sleeves had been rolled up to his elbows, making you notice the tattoos hugging the skin of his arms. You felt a curious wish to know how many more you could find under all the layers of clothing..

As you and Evan got closer, he moved from his leaning position to stand tall in front of you. The smile never leaving his lips, and his eyes still watching you closely.

“So, darling, meet Harry,” Evan spoke up, gesturing you towards his friend. “He’s a pest, but I’m sure you’ll get along just fine”

“Way to give a first impression, E,” Harry rolled his eyes at his friend’s teasing, before turning his attention back to you. He moved closer, embracing you into a side hug “S lovely to meet you-”

You quickly cleared your throat, afraid that your voice would give you away, before saying your name. The attempt didn’t really seem to work, as your words came out higher than you had intended. You could feel Nia’s gaze turning to you on the corner of your eye, but tried your best to ignore it. He repeated it, before shooting a smile in your direction, the sound of his deep voice and the way his lips circled around the words making the hairs behind your neck rise.

“Okay! So how about we move this party to the living room?” Nia’s voice broke into the atmosphere. “Everyone can get their wine glasses and make themselves comfortable while y/n and I finish arranging the pizzas.”

She shot you a knowing look, before moving to get the wine bottles and handing them to Nate. Everyone shifted to get their glasses and settle in the other room, leaving you and Nia alone.

You moved to get the knives and looked at the pizzas standing on the counter in front of you, calculating how you could cut out even slices on each. You could see your friend from the corner of your eye leaning on the counter staring directly at you.

“You know you can’t fool me even for a second, miss,” she teased, you could hear the smirk on her voice.

“I’m not doing anything,” you murmured, still not looking in her direction. She scoffed, elbowing you lightly as she mimicked you, saying your name in a high-pitched voice. You shot her a dirty look before shushing her, afraid the guest in the other room could hear her teasing. “I didn’t sound like that!”

“Oh please! You should have seen how you looked at him!” She rolled her eyes at you, “thought you were gonna drop down on your knees right then and there!”

“Nia!” you screamed in a whisper, your cheeks warming up at her words as you pinched her, making her squeal. You quickly shot a look at the entrance to see if anyone might’ve heard her, but they seemed to be enrolled in their own conversation. “Let’s just get this done quickly before they suspect we’re in here for too long.”

“Okay, cheeky girl,” she bit her lip and moved to get a knife to cut one pizza, but still eyeing you with a slight smile, leaning in one last time, “but I told you he was cute.”

Eventually, the two of you finished sorting out the pizza slices and joined everyone in the living room. Nia then rushed to join her boyfriend on the loveseat, leaving the only spot available for you being between Harry and Evan on the couch. She shot you a teasing smile, but you tried your best to ignore it and focus on finishing the wine glass you had poured for yourself earlier.

“Okay, so I’m going to need everyone to eat the food and tell me how good it is,” Nia pointed out to the center table where the pieces of pizza laid upon, “I’ve spent the entire afternoon on these babies, so eat up!”

“You know that I’ve helped you with them, right?” you added, squinting your eyes at her, “some credit wouldn’t hurt.”

“You only laid the toppings on the dough so they would look even,” she snapped back pointing a finger at you, “I did all the hard work, so shush it.”

But before anyone could move to get a slice, Evan was already stretching out his arms to stop you from moving. “Wait a second,” he spoke, “I feel like I’ve watched enough seasons of MasterChef to be the first one to judge.”

“I mean, you are the best critic I know,” Nia pointed, leaning in to get a slice and offering to Evan, “but again, I don’t really know any other critics.” She humored as he took the food, making a show of analyzing it.

Everyone waited expectantly as Evan bit into the pizza slice, keeping a straight face that didn’t reveal much of his opinions. Nia leaned in his direction, nervously biting her bottom lip as she waited for his final verdict.

“You have to be honest,” she warned, observing him, “but know that I can get my feelings hurt pretty easily.”

“I don’t mind that,” Evan finally said, straightening his posture as he looked back to Nia’s waiting eyes, “I’ll say that it’s not the best pizza I’ve ever had,” he announced, “but it works.”

“You know what, I take it,” everyone laughed lightly as Nia visibly released a breath she had been holding in, “It’s not a bad review for a first time.”

The hours went by quickly as you eased into a conversation with everyone. It was nights like this you missed the most when the stress of all the accumulative work weighted on your shoulders. Having a more of a cool night to hangout with a few friends, drinking some wine and chatting about whatever topic came to mind.

As time passed, you could tell Nia and Evan got more agitated, probably due to the amount of wine they had consumed without even realizing. They chatted excitingly about Midsommar, their voices raising a bit too loud. But every time you tried to shush them, jokingly reminding of the neighbors next door, they would soon forget about it again. You watched them babble, giggling when they would get excited on a certain topic and start to trip over a few words.

You also felt lighter because of the alcohol, not as much as them, but still enough so you could feel your chest warmer and your mind a bit dizzy. You still felt an annoying tingle at the pit of your stomach when you felt Harry’s eyes fixating on you when you spoke, or when your hands brushed as you reached for the bottle at the center table. It was silly, and it made you feel like a teenager being in the presence of an attractive boy for the first time.

When it all quiet down eventually, Nia had dragged Evan to her room so he could give an insight on how she could decorate it. It was something she would do now and then, give her room a big renovation so the change in the space could make her more motivated, or something like that. Sometimes, if she felt inspired enough, she would change around the living area or even your own room - when you allowed her, of course.

Nate was still sitting on the loveseat looking like he was about to fall asleep at any moment as he scrolled through his phone. He hadn’t spoken a lot during the night, which wasn’t unusual for him, but he still managed to chat for a bit.

That left you and Harry alone sitting on the main couch, with one person less it left you enough space to cross your legs, making yourself more comfortable. He was sitting on his side, his back resting on the big pillows by the arm of the couch, his chest turned towards you.

You reached for the wine bottle at the center table, realizing there was just a bit left, enough for a last glass for the two of you. “Wanna help me finish it?” You turned to him with the bottle in your hand. He had a smile resting on his lips, as he raised his glass toward you so you could pour the liquid into it. You could tell his eyes were a bit cloudy, but you knew none of you had had enough to be drunk.

“Thank you, love,” he said, the raspiness on his voice as he spoke the pet name making the hairs in the back of your neck rise. You poured yourself the rest of the wine left, emptying the bottle as you settled it back where you got it. “Should we make a toast?”

“Sure,” you replied easily, smiling at him, “what should we toast for?”

He looked away, puckering his lips slightly as he made a puzzled expression, a hand scratching at his chin as if in deep thought. You giggled at his dramatics before he pointed his finger up, his face turning into a big smile. He raised his glass in your direction, as you did the same. “A toast for being husband and wife?”

You chuckled, clinking your glasses together, “that’s fair,” you said, “ ‘s why we’re here after all, isn’t it?” you joked, taking a sip of your drink before settling it down on your lap.

“Sure is,” he mimicked, rising his glass to his lips, a smirk still adorning them as he managed to not break eye contact. He took a small sip before settling his glass back on the table. He scratched the tip of his nose slightly with the side of his finger, before he relaxed back on the couch. “So” he spoke up, bringing your attention to him, “E told me you’re an actual actress,” he raised his eyebrows at you, “made me a bit nervous, love.”

“That right there is a lie,” you chuckled, biting your lip and shaking your head. “I used to do theatre back in the day, haven’t done any acting for years though.”

“A theatre kid, huh?” He laughed as you rolled your eyes jokingly.

“I’m aware we have a poor reputation, yes,” you said, “I reckon we deserve it, but we weren’t that bad, I promise.”

He giggled, making your heart skip a beat at the sound. His smile was something you could easily get used to, the way it formed crinkles in his eyes and the dimples deep on his cheeks. You had to stop yourself for staring too much, moving your gaze to the glass on your lap.

“People are too harsh on theatre kids,” he reassured, “I think it seems pretty fun — only time I did it was when I played Elvis when I was about five, I think.” He added, resting his arm against the couch, his hand just a few inches away from your shoulders. “Had the time o’my life though.”

“You got main character though, that’s impressive,” you expressed, raising a hand to poke at his side playfully. “Have you done anything since your big debut as the king?”

“Can’t say I have, no,” he chuckled, “guess this is my big comeback, maybe I’ll get a call from broadway soon.”

“I’m sure you will!” You giggled, taking another sip from the glass in your hand.

You found it easy to dive into a conversation with him. You were both giggly from the wine, but it still seemed like you could stay like this for hours on end, just talking to each other.

He told you he wasn’t planning on doing the film, considering he never really thought about acting. But when Evan asked him if he could be part of it, he saw how desperate he was to fill the role, so he agreed. It warmed your heart to hear how fondly he spoke about his friend, telling you how willing he was to help, even if it involved doing something out of his comfort zone.

You two bounded over your mutual wish to become teachers. You found out he was studying Literature, a choice that for him as an easy one, considering throughout his life he had always been an avid reader. He said no matter how harsh thing got, he always found an escape between books, you could tell how passionate he was about it as he spoke about his favorite reads.

Eventually, you could hear voices coming closer from Nia’s room, as they seemed to be gushing about the filming that was starting soon.

As Evan came into the room, he made his way to the couch, placing his hand on Harry’s shoulders. “Honey, as much as I wish we could stay here ‘til dawn, I’m afraid we must get going.”

With his declaration, everyone moved around to gather the dishes splattered across the center table to put it all at the kitchen counter. After some insisting -mostly on Harry’s part- on helping with cleaning, you convinced them you two could handle the task just fine. And they were the guests, after all.

Finally, you said your goodbyes, pulling Evan on a small hug, assuring him you’d do your best to do his script justice.

And as you came to face Harry, he leaned into a hug, giving you a last kiss on the cheek, before telling you how lovely it had been to meet you.

You had woken up with your door opening abruptly, making you jump a bit from the sudden change in the peaceful atmosphere from your deep slumber. Before you could process the situation in hand, Nia was already pulling out the covers and spitting out words at a faster pace than you could comprehend in your mind state.

“Get up already! We are very late,” She urged as you lazily scratched at your eyes before sitting up to look at her. “Evan is going to kill us!” She cried out.

Your head pounded slightly, making you search for your water bottle previously prompted by yourself the night before, knowing you would need it in the morning. You reached for it in your nightstand, taking big gulps as you watched amusingly Nia run around your room picking random clothes and throwing it in a duffel bag you had just noticed.

Resting the bottle down on your lap, you yawned lightly, still in the process of waking up. “Calm down Ni,” you mumbled, “We still have time, we’re only leaving at like, two.”

She looked back at you as if you had just slapped her across the face, your shirt falling partly from her hand. “It’s already one,” she informed, making your eyes bulge as you reached to check on your phone, confirming as it read 1:16pm. “We don’t even have our bags packed AND we got a sink full of dishes to wash.”

The minutes after that were rushed, as you two did your best to get ready as fast as possible. Mentally slapping yourself for leaving everything for the last minute, but still managing to pack your bag in record speed.

But as time passed and the list of things to do was still far from over, Nia phoned Evan and let him know you would need a few more hours to be ready to leave. To say he wasn’t the happiest about the news was an understanding, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

A couple hours later you were finally packed, and after a quick stop to shop for road trip snacks you were off on the road.

You left much later than planned, and even if it wasn’t that much of a long drive, it was still 3 hours until you got there. The ride itself was mostly quiet, except from Lorde’s Melodrama playing softly in the background. You hummed along to the words, but apart from that there wasn’t a lot of talking between the two of you, all due to the limited amount of sleep you got from the previous night.

As you got closer, the scenery of open grass camps and blooming flowers at the peak of spring was a peaceful change of scene from the busy city streets you were used to. And when you finally got to the house, the sun was almost setting on the horizon. The sky being a satisfying mixture of blue and orange. There was a car already parked in, and as you got closer, you could see two figures sitting on the front stairs.

Getting out of the car, you quickly made your way to where they stood. “Have you been waiting long?” Nia asked as you got closer to them.

“Longer than I was planning to, I’ll say that,” Evan replied, taking off his sunglasses to greet you.

Harry came up from behind him, looking incredibly cozy wearing a knitted cream sweater. It took everything in you not to nuzzle on him as he met you with a quick embrace. You had to focus on keeping your breathing steady as you looked up at him when you parted. The sun coming from behind you doing wonders as it hit his face perfectly. His eyes were the prettiest shade of green as he smiled down at you before moving to greet Nia.

“We’ve been here fo’ ten minutes, don’t listen to him,” he assured with a small laugh.

The house itself was much bigger than you expected, it wasn’t huge, by any means, but you had pictured a small cottage with barely any space for the four of you. The place, however, was big enough for you to have your privacy but still small enough to feel cozy and welcoming.

You quickly found there were three rooms, and despite you arguing you didn’t mind sharing one with Nia, considering you two lived together, she still insisted that you and Harry had your own bedrooms. It was her way of thanking you for agreeing to help them.

After you got established in your respective room, you met everyone down at the kitchen. The place was loud with chatter as they played around while making dinner. Nia seemed to boss the boys around to cut the vegetables properly, as she concentrated on figuring out how to work the old stove. They laughed lightly as she cussed under her breath in frustration after another failed attempt. You watched quietly for a moment, before joining in to help her.

You finally turned the stove on with the help of a few matches you found laying on the counter, being able to cook with no more trouble. It was already getting late when you finished eating and gathered the dishes to lay them on the sink. Still, Nia insisted on watching one of the movies she had carefully selected on her extended collections of DvDs to bring with her.

You decided to make yourself some tea while the rest of them moved around to arrange themselves for the movie night. After offering if anyone else wanted a cup as well, you were met with Harry’s warm smile as he accepted shyly.

Soon enough everyone settled down on the big couch to watch the movie. Evan took his place on one of the armchairs, while Harry opted to sit by the end of the couch, setting his legs on the footrest in front of him. As you walked in with your mugs, he gazed up at you, shooting a soft smile and muttering a quick ‘thank you’ as you handed him his drink.

He patted the spot next to him, indicating for you to sit, to which you happily obliged.

“Wanna share?” he asked, holding up a blanket that lied at the arm of the couch. “There’s jus’ three of ‘em.”

“Sure,” you replied, moving to pull the blanket, so it was covering the two of you. You knew very well you could always get an extra one from one of the bedrooms, but you would never bring yourself to suggest it.

Finally, Nia entered the room with a small pack of m&m’s on one of her hands and the DvD case for ‘Love Actually’ on the other. She was quick to insert it on the player before settling down next to you. Pulling out the leftover blanket for herself, she lied down to rest her head comfortably on top of your legs.

It didn’t take long until she fell in deep slumber, cuddling up on your lap as soft snores left her lips. You pouted slightly down at her. The poor thing was exhausted from driving all the way, and the bad night of sleep the day before.

As the movie progressed, you could feel your eyelids getting heavier as well, the words coming from Keira Knightley’s mouth becoming more of a background noise as you fought to keep yourself awake. But before you could doze off, you felt Harry shifting slightly next to you. Suddenly feeling his arm hugging your shoulders, as he gently pulled you closer.

You moved your head to look at him but before you could say anything he shushed you softly and pulled you back in. “ ‘S fine, love,” he whispered, “can see that you’re tired.”

And with a half-woken mind and heavy eyelids you laid back on his shoulder and allowed yourself to snooze.

You woke up with him shifting again from under you, opening your eyes slowly to find the end credits rolling up the screen in front of you. You yawned lightly before sitting up, being careful not to wake a still-very-much-asleep Nia on your lap.

“Sorry,” you heard Harry say as you scratched at your eyes, “didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s fine,” you assured, your voice a bit raspy from your nap, “would have to happen, eventually.” You looked down at the unconscious girl lying on you, knowing you had to get her to bed so she could sleep properly. “We should wake her.”

“Want me to carry her to her room?” he asked.

“I think she’ll be okay,” you replied, gently calling her name so she could slowly wake up.

Surely, it didn’t take a lot of coaxing to get her eyelid to flutter open, as she lazily rose from her sleep.

You helped her to her room, afraid she’d trip down the stair in her hazy state of mind, still half asleep as she dragged her feet across the floor.

As soon as she laid down in her bed, you made your way back to the kitchen to fix yourself a glass of water so you could go to sleep.

It surprised you to find Harry still awake as you entered the space; he looked up at you from his position leaning on the counter with his phone in his hand. Quickly placing it in his back pocket as he saw you coming in, giving you a slight smile. “Thought you’d gone to bed.”

You reached for the cabinet Nia had pointed you to earlier where the cups were placed, picking one with little thought and closing it. “Just came here for a glass of water,” you spoke, moving the cup under the tap, “always have one next to my bed, y’know, in case I get thirsty and stuff.” You shook your head slightly, not wanting to ramble about the benefits of staying hydrated during the night just to make a conversation.

“Smart girl,” he joked, causing you to chuckle as you felt blush creeping out on your cheeks. You could see him coming closer to stand next to you from the corner of your eye, which didn’t help the tingly feeling forming at the pit of your stomach. “Excited fo’ tomorrow?” he asked, crossing his arms on top of the counter as he leaned next to you.

“Guess I am,” you answered, looking up at him and finding he was closer than you had realized. You smiled nervously as you met his eyes gazing down at you, before clearing your throat lightly. “What about you?”

“To be honest ‘m a bit nervous, love,” he confessed.

“Why’s that?”

“I mean,” he started, his eyes still fixed on you, “ ‘s not every day I get to pretend ‘m married to a pretty girl like you.”

You could feel your heart skip a beat as he reached one of his hands to move a strand of your hair behind your ear. He kept his hand on your cheek just as his eyes seemed to gaze down at your lips, so subtly that it felt like you might’ve imagined it.

The silence in the room was loud as you could almost hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears, as he leaned down just barely, getting closer to you. He looked down one more time at your lips, this time making sure you realized the unspoken question behind that action. You suddenly felt water pouring through your fingers, as the forgotten cup in your hand overflowed. This caused you to jump back a bit, quickly turning the tap off and resting the glass on the counter.

“Oh my god,” you squeak, reaching out for a towel right next to the sink to dry your hand. “I’m sorry, that was-” you chuckled, glancing at Harry who seemed to watch you with an amused expression. “That was awkward, sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” He assured, picking the full glass and moving it in the counter so it was out of your reach. “ ‘t was actually quite cute,” he moved closer to you again, reaching his hand to hold at your jawline.

You held back your breath as you felt his own hitting the top of your upper lip, your noses brushing slightly.

“Been wanting to do this fo’ a bit now, love,” he spoke a bit above a whisper, his deep voice sending chills down your spine and making you grab at his sweater, ”would you let me?” his thumb caressed your cheek lovingly, “would you let me kiss you?”

You could feel your heart beating strongly against your rib cages, swallowing hard as you looked up at him. He was watching you closely, his dark emerald irises gazing down at you as your lips barely brushed. You nodded at him, trying to pull him closer.

“Use your words, darling,” he insisted, not budging from his position. “Wanna hear you say it.”

“Please, Harry I-” you moved your hand to grasp on his waist, “just —kiss me.”

Giving a satisfied hum, he finally leaned down, closing the space between the two of you. His hand remained stroking your cheek softly, as the other sneaked under your neck.

He moved his lips ever so slightly, his cupid bow founding its way above your inner lip, sucking on it gently. The kiss was teasingly slow, making you hyper aware of all of your senses. Your hands feeling the soft fabric of his sweater, grabbing at it as if asking for more.

He moved the hand on your neck, pulling gently at your hair, making you angle your head up a bit. As his tongue poked to lick at your bottom lip, you opened your mouth, deepening the kiss.

You stayed like this for a while, pressed against the kitchen wall as you enjoyed the taste of each other.

When you pulled back, he splattered a few kisses along your cheek, giving one last peck on your mouth before pulling back.

“As much as I don’t want to end this now,” he muttered, moving his hand, so they were both holding your cheeks, “We should get some sleep fo’ tomorrow.”

“We should,” you agreed.

“We’ll get the chance to do this again,” he said, making you bite down a smile at the innuendo behind his words.

He gave you one last kiss before pulling away completely, reaching for the glass of water you had already forgotten about on the counter and handing it to you.

You walked back to your rooms without saying a word, but still sharing glances and smiles along the way. And as you got to your respective rooms, you whispered quiet good nights before parting ways and closing the door behind you.

The days that followed were rushed, considering the filming had officially started. You two barely had the chance to be alone again, which was disappointing. But still you couldn’t find yourself time to miss the feel of having his soft lips against yours, considering the scenes you had with each other. What you did miss was being able to kiss him without it being written in a piece of paper, or having someone from outside tell you to. You missed the intimacy of feeling his tongue meet your own and having his hands pulling you close as you both craved for more. You missed the shared secret between just the two of you, that was knowing how it felt to have him all to yourself.

It was discomforting, earning for someone you barely even know. Jumping into a feeling you know there’s no way can end well. You both were playing characters. Lovers, yes, but it was all pretend. It didn’t help that he was so good at it. In front of the cameras he would be so loving that you often wondered how much of it was just part of the act.

It was subtle things that made you think of it, like a glance across the room between takes. Him leaning close to you every time they called you to watch back something you had just recorded. Or when he sucked in your lip during a scene, so softly you could barely notice but still made your heart skip a beat.

But as much as it was nice to pretend that you two had some shared secret, you knew that the most likely scenario was that he was just doing his work and being friendly. So you tried your best to convince yourself that all of it was just your mind playing tricks, this way you could prevent yourself from inevitably getting hurt. That encounter in the kitchen was most likely his way of making things less awkward to when you inevitably would have to do it in front of a camera. That was it, nothing more.

It seemed to have worked pretty well, you two had the chemistry Evan hoped for when he wrote his script. Nia kept teasing you with every given opportunity. You didn’t tell her about the late night kitchen situation, but you knew she could sense the ‘chemistry’ was not simply because you two were just that good at acting. No one was complaining though, considering everything was going so smoothly they suspected it could be wrapped up even earlier than expected.

Every time they would mention the possibility, you found yourself wishing deep down something would set you back on the schedule. You felt bad for it, and you never voice your inner thoughts, but you knew wrapping up early meant going home early, and you were getting a bit too comfortable getting to act all loved up on camera.

As if some kind of outer force had listened to your wishes, just as you were halfway throughout the week, mother nature seemed to be your biggest ally.

You had just woken up with the annoying tune of your alarm clock, one you had chosen for finding it soothing at first. But you soon found that those sounds are not meant to feel soothing at all, as it woke you from your deep slumber. You were quick to turn it off before rubbing your eyes softly and enjoying the warmth of your bed for a few more minutes. You could hear the gentle sounds of raindrops hitting your window, but barely paid any attention to it as you rose lazily, stretching your arms above your head.

Making your way down the stairs you first noticed Evan standing by the big window in the living room, looking out with a hand resting on his hip and the other one holding a mug. Behind him, in one of the armchairs, sat Harry, also drinking out of a mug as he read a book quietly. But as if he felt your presence as you got to the bottom of the staircase, he looked up, smiling at you as you made your way into the room.

“G’morning,” he spoke, alerting the man by the window of your presence as he turned around to look at you.

“Good morning,” you said back, before realizing the worried expression on Evan’s face, “is everything okay?”

“A disaster just happened, honey, look out the windows!” he snapped, gesturing behind him where you could see the rain hitting the glass. The sky was dark with clouds, suggesting it was just the beginning of the storm that was to come. You looked back with a puzzled expression, knowing the weather was not the best, but as far as you remembered you had already shot all the scenes you needed outside. Evan rolled his eyes, “our natural light is gone, honey, it’s too dark to shoot!” he barked.

“Hey, no need to yell at her like tha’,” Harry looked back at his friend, attempting to calm him down, “ ‘s fine, we were early on schedule anyway, one day is not gonna delay it.”

He shot a look at Harry, his hand finding its way back on his waist as he let out a deep breath. “I’m sorry, this is just incredibly frustrating.”

You smiled at him to assure it was fine, knowing how much stress he was putting on because of this project. “Doesn’t Nia have one of those light things you were using the other day to make the scene brighter?” You suggested.

Evan sighed, “that’s a reflector, it just— well, reflects the light, we would need the sun for it to work, and seems like she’s not showing her face anytime soon,” he weightened his shoulders down, clearly feeling defeated. “I guess today is our off day — we should use it to pray for sunlight tomorrow, otherwise I’m pulling my hair off.”

When Nia woke up, you could tell she was not happy at all with the news that filming had to be cancelled for the time being. She spent the whole breakfast whining and crying about the poor weather. You tried your best to console her, but knowing your friend you knew her dramatics showed off when she worried about something. She tended to overthink every scenario that could go wrong, which did nothing to help the pressure she put on herself.

The day went on as eventless as it possibly could, the rain outside just seeming to get angrier as time passed by. You did your best to distract Nia from her own head, asking her about the recent documentaries she had watched, knowing she could go on tangents for hours. You talked about crime shows you have started before filming and shared different theories you had on them. You even listened to her deep analysis of trashy reality shows she loved to watch and always tried to drag you to get into it.

You talked and talked with no end, considering there wasn’t much else to do. Nia’s aunt hated computers and refused to install any kind of wifi, leaving you with a shitty connection that barely loaded a five-minute video.

As the evening came by, and the raindrops still hit angrily at the windows, you decided to watch another movie — this time it was Evan’s choice of Freaky Friday.

You volunteered to grab the blankets from the cabinets on the second floor, while Nia excitedly announced she would make popcorn for everyone.

Quickly moving along the hallway, you made your way in front of the doors and opened them. You could hear footsteps coming up the stairs as you tiptoed to reach the top shelf where the soft blanket you had used the first night lied on top of.

“Need help?” You heard a voice approach, looking over your shoulder to find Harry walking towards you with an amused expression on his face. You nodded, chuckling as you quickly stepped out of the way to allow him to take your place. He reached up, easily retrieving the blanket and giving it to you.

“Thank you,” you muttered, looking up at him for a moment.

“No problem, darlin’,” he said, fetching two other blankets before closing one door with a swing of his hip. You closed the other one with a small giggle. You started to quietly move along towards the staircase when he cleared his throat, causing you to look up at him. He kept his gaze down before speaking softly, “After the movie, think I’ll go back to my room a bit early,” he looked at you for a moment, “ ‘f you want to join me.”

You stopped walking to look at him arching your eyebrows surprised, not expecting this kind of proposal at this moment. He stopped a step ahead of you, staring back with nervous eyes and shooting you a shy smile. “I’m not saying we have to do anything, I just-” he spluttered, “just wanted to be with you, without the camera and stuff.”

You smiled at him, “of course,” you voiced, “sounds nice.”

Shortly, you found yourself in the same position as the first day. Sharing a blanket with Harry, but this time Nia was wide awake next to you with a bucket of popcorn plopped on her lap. Some people would consider her to be the worst kind of person to watch movies with, considering she would always get too excited and comment on every scene she could. You had gotten so used to it with time, that it felt weird watching a movie without her voice interrupting a scene every five minutes.

It got hard to concentrate on this one in particular, and not because of Nia’s speaking over the lines, but the sudden feeling of Harry’s hand resting on your knee halfway through it. Your legs were crossed on top of the couch, making part of it rest slightly on top of his as he eased his thumb over your skin.

As time passed, he moved his hand up a bit, finding its final place on your inner thigh, causing goosebumps to arise on the back of your neck as he caressed it softly. You caught yourself holding your breath multiple times, something he was also probably aware of, considering the position of his arm on the side of your chest.

The tension between you two was almost palpable as the end credits rolled up. At that point you had prompted yourself to lean your head on his shoulders. He grasped your skin slightly before removing his hand and motioning his position to get up, making you pull back from him.

“‘m going back to my room now,” he announced as he got up, shooting you a knowing look, “g’night.”

You stayed back for a few minutes so as not to look too suspicious, folding up the blanket you had used and scrolling through your phone for a bit. Not long after you excused yourself, climbing the stairs two steps at a time.

You found him in the hallway, leaning in on the wall right next to his door as he looked down on his phone. As he felt your presence he gazed up, grinning softly before bringing his finger above his lips as to warn you to stay quiet.

The two rushed inside his room, trying to be as quiet as possible, considering your friends downstairs could come up at any second. He closed the door behind him, looking right at you as he leaned back. His room was similar to yours, the difference being a few more clothes lying on top of the small couch standing at the corner. The curtains hanging on the big windows were pushed open, allowing the moonlight from the now-clear sky to illuminate the place.

Your breath got caught in your throat as you stared back at him, meeting his dark irises. He started stepping closer to you until he could lean his forehead against yours. His hands found their way caressing your jawline, one of them going as far as to pulling lightly on the hair above your neck. You held your breath, gazing up at him as you waited for his next move.

He smiled lazily, brushing his nose against your softly before placing a peck to the corner of your lips. He was teasing you, his hand leaving your hair to find its way down your body, paying special attention to the side of your breast before placing itself holding your waist.

You swallowed dryly, feeling your heart speed up as you pulled him closer, wanting desperately to close the space between the two of you. Too scared that your voice would give out your desperation, you moved one of your hands to the back of his neck and pulled him in. He didn’t think twice before finally closing the space and allowing you to feel his lips against yours.

The kiss started slow, both of you still trying to figure it out how it was to taste each other like this. His lips were soft, moving teasingly as he sucked on your bottom lip. Your hand pulled his hair gently, causing him to whine into mouth, licking at your tongue as he deepened the kiss. The hand on your waist moved up, caressing the side of your breast softly as he tried to pull you in as close as possible.

He started easing you backwards, considering neither of you were willing to break the kiss to watch where you were going. You felt the mattress of his bed hitting the back of your knees. You allowed him to lay you into the bed, parting for a moment so you could move upwards, laying your head on the pillows. Shortly enough he joined you, placing his elbows on both sides of your head, not wasting any time before closing the space between your mouths again.

The two of you stayed like this for a while. Slowly kissing each other, as your arm found its way back behind his neck and one of his hand caressed your cheek. You could get used to this, with him being the only thing you could sense. His taste. His touch. His scent.

He was all you could think about.

When you finally pulled back, you could see his red, puffy lips even with the limited amount of lighting going into the room.

He looked into your eyes for a moment, “you look so pretty like this, darling,” he murmured, his voice just above a whisper, sending chills down your spine. “Could eat you up.”

A small whimper left your mouth, as he dove back in to spread kissed along your cheek and down your throat. You bit hard into your lip and swallowed back a moan as he sucked in a spot right below your jawline. You could feel him grinding his hips down on your tights, making you aware of the growing bulge inside his sweats.

You placed your hand on his shoulders, pushing him gently and disconnecting him from your neck. He pulled back, looking back at you with a puzzled look. You kept pushing him until his shoulders hit the mattress, reverting the previous position you both were in, as you stranded his waist.

Looking down at him, you wanted so badly to discover his body, to make him feel good. So you took the same position he had on you. Placing your lips against his neck and running your tongue against it, sucking in his skin. You kept doing it as your hand smoothed down his body, finding the hem of his shirt and lifting it enough so you could scratch at his love handles. He gave you a small moan, a sound so delicious to hear you that made you want to swallow him whole.

Both his hands found their place on your waist, pressing you down so you could feel his need between your tights. You quickly pulled your head from his neck, giving him a soft peck on the lips.

“Please, love, just-” he grunted, looking up at you with pleading eyes. “Just do something, please, I-“

His hands gripped tightly on your waist as you rolled your hips against him. Neither of you could contain your moans as you repeated the movement, even fully clothed his bulge rubbed deliciously against the place you needed it the most.

You leaned down again, this time pushing his shirt up as you made your way down his body, splattering open-mouthed kisses along his warm chest. You paid a special mind to the tattoos you met along the way, sucking spots over the wings of a butterfly inked on his stomach. As you licked along the leaves of the ferns that adorned his love handles, you felt one of his hands tangling in your hair, his hips rising slightly as he whimpered.

“A bit impatient, you are,” you spoke, feeling his belly tighten as you placed a playful bite under his belly button, causing another moan to leave his lips.

“Darlin’, please,” he whined, “Just- fuck, just need you right now.”

You decided not to tease him for too long, considering you needed it just as much as he did. Finally, you moved down once more to place a kiss above the hard on over his pants. He lifted his head, watching your every move as his hand that was placed on your hair pushed some strands away from your forehead. You wrapped your hand around the hem of his sweats, rising your eyebrows at him as you felt he wasn’t wearing any underpants. The thought of having such easy access to him making you press your thighs together, feeling your wetness already damping your underwear

Slowly, you bit your bottom lip, keeping your gaze focused on him as you moved his sweats down, he raised his hips as to help you out. Once his cock was fully out, you stared back down at it lying proudly against his stomach. You ran your fingers gently along his length, causing him to hold his breath, his abdomen tightening once more. He was definitely bigger than anyone you had ever been with, causing your mouth to water a bit and your thighs to press together once again at the thought of fully having him.

You could feel him peering down at you as you wrapped your hands around the base and applied the smallest amount of pressure. The precum was already escaping from the tip and sliding down the tiniest bit.

Moving your head forward you looked back at his waiting eyes, spitting on top of the head as you moved your hand up caressing it. This time he gave you an actual moan, throwing his head back at the pillows behind him.

Looking down at him, you didn’t know where to place your lips first, wanting to bite and lick every part of his body. Finally deciding on sucking a spot on his thigh, right next to where rested an ink of a tiger head.

You kept the movement of your hand, twisting it and applying more pressure eventually as you watched him shift around under you. He raised his hips slightly as he pleaded under his breath for more, his hand firmly on top of your head as the other was thrown above his own.

You moved your thumb to run across his slit, caressing the head with a flick of your wrist as you moved your mouth to place kisses at the base. At this point he became a moaning mess, throwing his arm over his mouth as to muffle the sounds while you licked up his shaft.

“God- fuck- such a good girl,” he moaned on his arm, moving it out of the way so he could look down at you. “Doing so good, you feel so good- shit.”

Smiling at him, you jerked him off a couple of times before resting your hand at the base so you could replace it with your mouth.

You licked around his head, giving it a small kiss before you moved down as far as you could go. He cried out, tightening his grip on your hair and moving his hips up to meet your movements as you sucked on him.

He was desperate to reach his climax, and you were desperate to see him cum undone under your touch. So you started speeding up, your mouth licking at his veins, your hand helping you as you moved it along his dick. He was cursing and moaning over you, pleading for you not to stop. You kept moving your hand as you licked at his head once more before detaching so you could look up at him with pleading eyes.

“Almost there?” you asked, having him nod frantically at you, “will you let me have a taste?”

That seemed to do it for him, as he pushed your head back down, making you attach your lips to his head as you felt him shoot his load inside your mouth. You milked him as he came down from his high, feeling his softness on your lips as you swallowed down.

You sat up and looked down at his hazy eyes while he calmed down with heavy breaths. He adjusted his sweats quickly before moving himself up to pull you in for a frantic kiss. “God, darling, you’re a dream,” he spoke between kisses, his hands gripping at your waist as he positioned you to lie on top of him, moving one of them under your shirt, pulling it up slowly.

You quickly placed your hand on top of his stopping him from going further as you detached from him. He furrowed his brows at you. “I should go back to my room,” you said, “got an early day tomorrow.”

He gave you a puzzled look, “but you still haven’t- “

“it’s okay,” you interrupted, moving to get up from his bed, suddenly feeling nervous under his gaze, “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Good night!”

You left his room before he could protest, wanting to slap yourself from running away like this.

The next morning was thankfully much brighter than the one before, with sunlight shining through the windows at the earliest hours. You didn’t get a lot of sleep, tossing and turning around, replaying the previous night in your head. The thought of what could’ve happened if you had stayed imprinted itself in your mind. You started to overthink it. What did he even think of you? After running away like that?

Your thoughts consumed you as you sat in of the stools in the kitchen by yourself, for the first time being the first to be awake. Your coffee running cold by the minute, as you frowned to yourself, taking a sip every so often.

It didn’t take long until you didn’t find yourself alone anymore, having Evan join you as he happily cheered about the nice weather. You nodded along to him, not really in the mood for talking as you anxiously poked at your nails.

It was when you walked towards the sink to wash your used mug that you saw Harry walking into the kitchen. His hair messy and his eyes sleepy, making you annoyed at how charming he managed to look even after just getting out of bed.

He greeted you with a raspiness to his voice, his eyes lingering on you a moment too long as he smirked before moving to the cabinets. He stood next to you while you washed the dishes, grabbing himself a bowl while he worked on his breakfast.

Yours arms would brush every so often as you moved while doing your tasks, making you gaze at him. He kept a grin sitting on his face as he casually made a conversation with Evan, his dimple poking out the smallest bit, but still not looking back at you.

As soon as you were finished you left for your bedroom so you could get ready for the day, but not before sparing one last glance at Harry. This time his eyes were already trained on you as he chewed slowly his fruit salad. You felt your cheeks getting a bit warm from the eye contact, making you look down and leave the room with a speeding heart.

The work started early, as you ran around to keep up with the schedule after losing one day of productivity.

Harry seemed to be in it for teasing you. His touches lingered longer than needed. His kisses were harsher, the need behind them being almost palpable. His gaze on you told you something you couldn’t really tell exactly what it was. Lust? Desire? You weren’t entirely sure, but every time you caught him watching you felt a warmth take over your face.

In one occasion, between takes, as Nia and Evan discussed the best position for the camera considering her broken tripod. You stood awkwardly waiting for their instructions as you played with the hem of your dress. You could feel him staring closely, looking up to find him with the same smirk he gave you in the morning. He looked quickly over your friends who were still trying to figure out the problem before leaning up close to you “Still haven’t let me have a taste, love,” he said quiet enough to that just you could hear, the words sending a chill down your spine and making your core twitch as you glanced back at him.

That same night, after you announced you’d tuck yourself in, just as you changed into your pajama shorts, you heard a soft knock on your door. You opened up to see his darkened irises staring back at you as he quietly let himself in. And within a few minutes he found his place between your legs, your hand gripping tightly at his curls as you moaned into your pillow.

The following day wasn’t much different, starting with a tight filming schedule that was coming to a close end. An exchanging of glances across the room and yearning touches with underlying motives behind them. Ending with you lurking into his room at the dark hours of the night, craving-filled touched and muffled moans.

The wrap up of the film was welcomed with a bittersweet feeling settling itself in the pit of your stomach. Knowing as much as you were glad everything had gone as smoothly as possible during this week, it was time to leave it all behind.

You were nervous about how it would be with Harry after you got home. Was this the start of something that could potentially become a warm and beautiful feeling? Or was it just a lust-filled affair that would end as quickly as it had started? It made you anxious to think about it, not wanting to let go of it just yet.

Nia walked into the living room with two champagne bottles that had been brought up for this exact moment. The atmosphere was filled with chatter as everyone celebrated the end of the hard work.

You were dressed in the fanciest clothes you had brought on your rushed-packed bag, which consisted itself in a black blouse and a loose pair of pants you stole from Nia’s wardrobe a couple weeks prior. But you once again could not compete with Evan’s sense of style, as he seemed right out of a cover with a hot pink turtleneck under a sparkly black dress that hung all the way to his feet.

But you still couldn’t keep your eyes off of him.

You watched as he laughed along at something that had been said, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before fixing on Nia as she offered to serve him the champagne she had just opened.

He looked so good.

Like you, he didn’t opt for a very glam look, wearing a simple graphic white tee with a rainbow printed on it, and a simple pair of checked trousers. But as plain as someone could argue it was, he still managed to look incredibly inviting, which made it harder for you not to latch yourself onto him.

You were coming into your sixth or seventh glass when it all died down. Your head was fuzzy, and you felt giggly as you cheered along with everyone about the successful week you had. Nia had already gone back to her room. She didn’t drink as much considering she would have to drive early in the morning, wanting to leave most of the celebration for the premiere day.

The glances stolen between you and Harry were getting more frequent, the longing in each other's eyes visible with the effect of the alcohol.

He had you pressed up against your bedroom door as he sucked in your bottom lip harshly. His hands gripped at your waist tightly, putting his weight against you.

You wrapped your hand around his neck as the other pulled at his shirt desperately with the need of having him close. You felt overwhelmed by him in the nicest way. Having his hips pressing against your own, making you open your tights slightly as you felt his arousal straining on his trousers.

You whimpered into his mouth at the feeling, suddenly needing him as close as possible. You could tell his desperation matched your own by the way his hand pressed on the side of your body and his mouth moved against you. His groans getting lost in your throat every time you tangled your fingers on his roots, pulling at it.

“You’re gonna kill me like this, baby,” he breathed out, his lips moving against your wanting ones, “so fuckin’beautiful.”

You tried to keep your shaky hands steady as they travelled down his chest, scratching as his tummy lightly under his shirt before you began pulling it up. He detached from you to quickly reach over his shoulders and pull it off completely. He didn’t waste any time bringing his hand to unbutton your blouse, peppering kisses along your lips as he moved it down your shoulders, only to be met with your bare breasts underneath.

“Fuck me,” he groaned staring down at you, attaching your lips once again as he pulled you from the door as he fiddled with the zipper of your pants. You stumbled on each other's arms across the floor until you were met with the plush feeling of the bedcovers on the back of your thighs.

You stepped out of your pants as they got loose around your waist and fell damply to the floor, allowing Harry to push you gently into the mattress. He quickly got rid of his own trousers, wasting no time before towering above you, connecting your mouths once again.

It was like no matter how close you were, it still wasn’t good enough to satisfy the craving you had. You still wanted more. Needed more.

He was fully licking into you, his hands gripping your tights as he rolled his hips to meet yours. You moaned in unison at the feeling of your arousals meeting deliciously as he repeated the movement once more before parting your mouths so he could spread kisses along your neck.

“Harry,” you breathed out his name, dragging your nails along his back as you moved your hips up eagerly.

He moved his head from your neck o hover above yours, licking his lips teasingly as he looked down at you with dark eyes. He moved one of his hands to caress your cheek lovingly, as the other found your breast, his thumb grazing over your nipple. “Can I have a taste, baby?” he leaned his forehead against your, not breaking eye contact, “just a fo’a bit, then you can have me.”

You nodded frantically, brushing your nose against his. He gave you one last peck on the lips before moving down again to lick down at your skin. He pressed open-mouthed kisses at your chest, sucking harshly between your breasts. His tongue moved along your belly, craving his finger into it playfully like you had done to him, making you squeal above him.

He finally settled down between your thighs, his hand gripping at them to keep it apart before moving teasingly slow to the hem of your underwear. Your breath got caught in your throat as you moved up to lean on your elbows, gazing at him, hyper-aware of his every move.

He looked up, grinning like a devil, before moving his face down to nose gently at your mound. Pulling away, he pressed his hands on your sides, sliding your underwear off your legs as you helped him, raising your hips slightly.

You whimpered as you felt him kiss along your inner thigh, meeting your middle as licked you once. Your hips raised impatiently, making him smirk at you again before completely diving in.

You got lost in the pleasure as he licked his tongue into you, letting yourself fall back in the cushions behind your head. Your hand moved to grip at his hair tightly as he sucked in your clit, making you yelp and call out his name. His mouth was warm as his saliva mixed with your own wetness every time he licked into you.

Feeling your arousal pooling on your folds, you desperately needed to feel him as close as possible. Wanting every inch of him against you.

You pushed him from you, grabbing at his shoulder so he could move up to face you again. He didn’t protest, spattering quick kisses along the way before pressing his mouth against yours. The taste of champagne still lingering on your tongue mixed with your own taste on his as he licked into your mouth.

“y’taste so good, baby,” he groaned, parting from you as he moved to remove his briefs. The limited amount of light illuminated his face beautifully, making you able to notice the glistening of your juices down his chin. You felt your core twitch at the scene above you, desperate to have him fill you up.

“Please,” you urged him, grabbing at his hips to pull him down.

“Can I have you, darlin’?” His voice was raspy, as he looks down at you with hooded eyes, “‘d you let me?”

Your arousal blurred your mind, your grip on his waist tightened as you raised your hips impatiently, nodding along to his question.

“Have to hear you say it, love,” he spoke, leaning down to place kisses along your neck, “just say it, and you’ll have me.”

“You can have me, please, I-” you moaned desperately, babbling words without thinking, “I need you, please.”

He raised his head from your shoulders, giving you a quick peck before reaching down to guide his length between your folds. Your belly tensed as he rubbed his head against your clit, holding back your breath as he finally slid in you.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he choked, pushing his hips all the way, allowing you to feel every inch of him fill you up. You breathed out a moan, reaching your hand on his back. “‘s this all fo’ me?”

You whined out a ‘yes’, rolling your hips as a way of urging him to move.

His movements began slow, his cock rubbing heavenly against your walls, making you clench around him. You both moaned and whimpered as your lips brushed.

“Can feel me deep?” He asked, resting his forehead against yours as he pushed his dick all the way in. You nodded, yearning for him to start moving again. “Can feel me in y’belly?”

“H, please,” you begged, gripping your nails on his shoulder blades.”Want you.”

“y’have me,” he kissed you hard before moving again, rolling his hips as he picked up the pace.

The air around you was hot as you threw your head back with the delicious feeling of him hitting the spot inside of you. He was addicting. The salty taste of his skin. The touch of his hands gripping on your sides. The smell of his cologne faintly mixed with sweat. The sound of his skin meeting yours. It made you earn for him in every possible way.

You felt your wetness dripping out of you as he pulled your leg up to your chest, allowing him to effectively hit deeper spots. The new position made a cramp start to creep up on your thight, but you ignored it to focus on the way his hips met yours.

Time seemed to pass like a blur as you pleasured each other, but soon enough you felt your orgasm building up. His thrusts became more frequent and smooth as he felt you clench more around him.

“that’s it, baby - fuck,” he grunted, moving his hand down to flicker your clit, causing to arch your back, moaning loudly. “Wanna feel you come for me.”

His cross necklace dangled over you as he watched you closely. You kept your gaze locked on his as you felt the feeling deep in your tummy take over your entire body. A moan got stuck in your throat as you opened your mouth to an ‘O’ shape, digging your nails further on his shoulders as you reached your high.

Getting home, you soon realized that throughout the week you had been so lost in your feelings with Harry that you didn’t even think of asking him for his phone number.

The month that followed passed by surprisingly quickly. During the first week you were swiftly thrown back again into your old reality of course essays and textbooks. You hadn’t heard a word from Harry, and the most frustrating part is that he seemed to have settled his place inside your thoughts. You tried asking about him to Nia once or twice again, but every time she seemed to come up with vague answers and change the subject, so you figured she had other things to worry about.

It was a disappointing end, to say the least. Even knowing from the start that being let down was the most possible outcome, it didn’t hurt any less. You often wondered if it had been something you’d done that made him pull away, or if he just wasn’t in it from the start.

By the second week you had gotten a job at a tiny local cafe you used to go after class to study and eat cinnamon rolls. That’s when time starting to rush by, as you found yourself busy through most of your day. Nia was working more than you’ve ever seen her. You two barely talked as she spent most of her time with Evan or inside her room editing. And as the week at the camp house got further away, it started to almost seem like you had imagined all of it.

Having a lot of distractions helped, but you never seemed to push the thought of a certain curly-haired boy completely away. Sometimes during a tedious lesson you would daydream about the feeling of his lips against yours. Or right before you fell asleep you would think about the taste of his skin, how strong his hand were gripping on your thighs. Maybe even at work. When there wasn’t a lot of movement, you could almost hear the sound of his voice.

It was aggravating, the effect he left on you. It got to a point where you got angry; sometimes at him but sometimes at yourself. He was the one who had gone after you, and yet he was the one who disappeared. But again, he didn’t really owe you anything, and that’s what’s frustrating. You were the one who allowed him; you knew from the start that you would get hurt but you still went for it, anyway.

As you got closer to the premiere night that was planned, you started to get anxious. You would catch yourself daydreaming more often, not being as focused as you were. You even started picking your nails again, which is a habit you thought you’d kick it a long time ago. But truth to be told, you were nervous.

The thought about seeing him again made your heart race. You wished that you could somehow find a way not to go. Maybe ask Nia if the two of you could have a private viewing. You had even thought about bribing her with making your mom’s brownie recipe. But you already knew the answer before you even suggested it. This was an important night for her, and you would be there to support it.

You were overthinking this. Was it going to be awkward when you met him? How would you even greet him? Would he kiss you? Would he ignore you? Should you ignore him? All the scenarios in your head made you want to throw up and run away.

When the two of you finally arrived, you were greeted by a cheerful Evan, who jokingly teased you for being late. As you got into his house, you found a bigger group than you expected. It seemed like you and Nia were the last ones to arrive, as there was around ten other people in there. Some of them you recognized from being Nia’s friends, others you had never seen, but none was the one you earned to see the most.

Evan guided you across the living room area, “I’ll show you the kitchen so you two can get some drinks,” He held up his glass as he spoke. Gesturing to the entrance of the room, “We’ll start everything in around ten minutes, so get ready.”

As you entered the kitchen behind Nia, you could feel her stiffen her posture a bit, before looking back at you. You frowned lightly at her, confused by her behaviour, gazing inside the room and finding immediately a pair of green eyes already watching you. It made you think back to the first time you were in this exact position, except in your own kitchen. This time, however, he was the one to approach you.

He looked really good, which did nothing to help the butterflies flying relentlessly in your stomach. He was in all black, a buttoned up shirt with a few buttons open, exposing a bit of the skin on his chest where a silver necklace laid upon. You swallowed dryly at the sight of his hand running swiftly through his hair, with a ring hugging each one of his fingers.

As he got close, he greeted Nia first, giving her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, before turning his attention back to you. He shot you a shy smile, before embracing you into a hug. You didn’t really know if it was your mind playing tricks but you felt him a bit hesitant as he greeted you and placed a kiss on your cheek. Pulling away, he cleared his throat, running his hand again through his hair, he almost seemed… nervous?

“‘S nice seeing you again,” he mumbled, “this uhm… ‘s my girlfriend, Jess.”

You could felt your heart drop with his words as you finally noticed a smiley girl coming to his side.

She wasn’t much taller than you, her red hair pulled back in a perfect ponytail. She matched him with a small black dress that annoyingly hugged her body in all the right ways. You could barely register her greeting you, as you tried your best to keep a straight face to hide the shock that took over your body. You felt a heaviness at the pit of your stomach, a feeling so distressful that made you want to scream as an attempt to make it go away.

You didn’t pay a lot of attention as Nia made a conversation with the girl, knowing that’s what she did best. You kept your gaze directed to Harry, your eyes asking a million questions - you didn’t even think you wanted to know the answers to. But he kept his eyes locked on the floor, eventually looking up at the girl in his arms as she seemed to mention him. But never meeting your own. Her hand was caressing his chest lovingly while his found their way on her waist, keeping her close.

“I think I’ll get something to drink,” you announced, realizing you might’ve interrupted the conversation as they stopped talking. You turned to Nia, “do you want something?”

She looked back at you with sorry eyes, “I should go with you,” she quickly turned back to the girl, “It was lovely meeting you, Jess.”

“Oh! Sure,” she smiled brightly at you two, her hand moving to rest on Harry’s chest, “we should go get our seats as well, right, babe?”

You left the scene as quickly as you could, not wanting to hear any more of it. Looking at all the drink options on top of the counter, you tried to think which one could get you drunk enough to stop feeling hurt over someone you spent just a week with, but still sober enough so that you could pretend everything was fine. Before you realized, Nia was standing next to you, getting two plastic pink cups before she stared at you with guilty-filled eyes.

“I should’ve just told you about it,” she sighed, “I didn’t want to make you sad, but looking back it was probably best if you already knew.”

You turned your head to look at her, “so you knew it all along?” You swallowed the lump in your throat as you felt it close once again.

“Evan told me like a few days after we got back!” She rushed, “I don’t know if they were together while we were filming.”

You took a deep breath, knowing Nia was probably blaming herself for putting you into this situation. But you knew it wasn’t her fault, she would never purposely put you in this position if she knew about it before.

“You know what, it’s fine,” you tried your best to cover up the hurt and gave her a weak smile, “it’s not your fault Ni. It’s okay. I’m fine.”

She pulled you into a tight hug, “I’m sorry, bubba,” she said, “let’s get you something to drink so you can enjoy this party like the star you are!”

The two of you decided on the vodka mixed with watermelon juice, something you had never even thought of trying before but seemed to be ideal to handle the situation you found yourself in. You walked back to the living area, where people were already beginning to settle on the chairs.

Following Nia, you prompted yourself on a seat at the edge closest to the door, opposite to where Harry sat with the girl. His girl. You thought bitterly, taking a big sip from your cup and cringing at the strong taste.

There was a speech you didn’t pay much attention to before they started the film, only giving a slight smile when you realized the mention of your name.

Before you knew it, the lights were out and your face took over the screen.

It was harder than you thought it would be. Looking up at the scenes you had with Harry, knowing everything that happened behind the cameras. Knowing every touch and every kiss felt more than just playing a character. You knew the actual feeling of having him to yourself. But now staring at it right in front of you, it just left a sour taste in your mouth.

You finished your drink barely ten minutes into the film, the feeling of your chest aching starting to become overwhelming as you watched your shared kiss on the big screen. You could feel your throat close once more, your eyes watering a bit.

“I’m gonna get some air,” you whispered to Nia sitting next to you, who gave you a sympathetic smile as you got up. You glimpsed quickly to Harry who had his eyes trained on you, the girl next to him leaning to whisper something in his ear.

You could feel the tears falling down stubbornly as you left the room. Standing in the hallway, you made the decision to turn to the front door instead of the back, not wanting to face anyone with reddish eyes.

You left the house, picking your phone with shaky hands as you managed to call a ride home, sighing in relief as your screen told you it was just about three minutes away.

You heard the door open behind you as stood on the sidewalk hugging yourself to get some warmth on the chilly night. You tried your best to swallow back your tears as you turned around, expecting to find Nia looking at you with pitiful eyes.

To your surprise, the person standing there was Harry, looking like a deer caught in the headlights as he took in your tearful eyes. He spoke your name in a soft voice, causing you to look away.

“Don’t-” you interrupted, raising your hand at him, “I don’t wanna hear it.”

He frowned at you, not wanting to upset you more. “I’m sorry,” he hesitated, taking a step forward.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, as you watched your ride pulling in front of you. You looked back at him, “I’m sorry too,” you said before moving to enter the car.

You spared him one last glance through the window as the driver pulled away.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #wildest dreams #writing #fanfic #Reader x Harry #my writing

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elizabeethan · 3 years

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Watch the Sunlight Fade: 14 / 17

Emma Swan finds out that her boyfriend has been hiding something from her: he’s in a gang and trying to get out. Reluctantly, she decides to support him, sticking it out with him until they have enough money to flee to Florida. All she has to do is wait and ignore that feeling in her gut that something is seriously wrong. With the help of a kind and handsome stranger, she just might make it out alive.

Or, alternate summary: I’m horrible at summaries, please just read it.

Something of a cross between a What Still Remains AU and a Sons of Anarchy AU.

A/N: Here comes the whump!! There's a good amount of violence in this chapter (well, not really, but it's more than I've ever written). As always, if you need more details you can message me!

Rated M

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~~~~

“Hello, hard worker,” she hears from the door as it creeps open. Looking up from the blank screen, she smiles at Tink.

“Hi,” she greets in return. “How are you?”

Tink gives her a smirk and chuckles. “Probably not as good as you are.” Emma’s eyes widen and her cheeks turn hot at the implication. She doesn’t even know what Tink is implying, but she does know that she’s pretty experienced in all things related to sex, so her assumtion probably has some backing. “I’m not gonna say anything,” she finally consoles.

“You know?”

She moves into the room, the door already shut as she makes her way for the chair Killian usually sits in. “He didn’t tell me, if that’s what you’re worried about. But when he mentioned leaving, and when he mentioned getting you out, specifically… It was obvious.”

“Oh,” Emma nods, biting her bottom lip into her mouth. It’s sweet that the way he talks about her gives him away, but she can’t help but feel nervous about it. Could he be giving himself away to just anyone?

“It’s also obvious that he loves you, just so you know. But only because we’ve been friends for so long.”

She takes her words as consolation. They’ve been each other’s only friend for years, learning each other emotionally and physically, so it makes sense that Tink would figure it out before anyone else does. “Thanks,” she says with a smile.

“And I don’t want you to worry. He ended things with me the night you came here. He and I are friends before anything else; I’m just happy that he’s so happy.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Emma says truthfully. “I trust him. And… and you.”

“Good,” she says pleasantly, her smile meaningful as she seems to understand Emma’s sentiment; her implication that they’ve become friends, too. “So I guess you’re just sitting here and wasting time until we can go, huh?”

“Yeah,” she laughs. She enjoys Tink’s company. It’s easy to laugh with her, her lightheartedness contagious despite them both knowing the danger they're in. Killian has been quietly planning their escape, and it’s almost time to go, so the danger is getting more and more real as the minutes tick on.

They sit for a while, joking and laughing together, and Emma reflects silently on how nice it is to have a friend. Killian’s been her friend from the moment they met, but she hasn’t felt this close to another girl in all of her life. She hasn’t felt supported and genuinely liked by another girl since she was a kid, before the runaways and the homelessness left her completely and utterly alone.

“You seem happier,” Tink reflects with a soft smile. “The first time we met… Just-- I’m sorry, Emma. I should have been nicer to you. I’m just glad things are starting to look up for you now.”

“Thank you,” she smiles. “It’s nice having a friend.”

“Yeah,” she laughs. “Elsa’s nice but… I don’t know.”

The conversation takes an unexpected turn, guiding Emma down a path she didn’t know was there. The inclusion of Elsa in their discussion of friendship should seem natural enough, but Tink’s suggestion is that she isn’t as good a friend as either of them are to each other.

“What?” she asks, easily letting her confusion be known.

“Something about her,” she answers with a shrug. “I never trusted her. Killian does, though.”

“Well, she’s almost like his sister-in-law, right?”

She rolls her eyes, shaking her head. “Yeah, I guess. Not like that seems to mean much to her. Her loyalty lies with her family.”

Emma’s eyes narrow suspiciously, wondering what on earth Tink is talking about, where she’s gotten this idea, and what she could possibly know that Killian doesn’t. Killian is Elsa's family. “What are you--”

“Hi,” Killian says as he pushes the door open. She bites down against the smile teasing at her lips.

“Hi,” she whispers back. “Everything okay?”

She wasn’t expecting to see him today, not in the middle of the day, at least. But his arrival is nothing short of a pleasant surprise. It’s not entirely unusual for him to pop in during the day and see how things are going for her, but they should be lying low to avoid stirring suspicion, especially after their risky meetup in the bathroom last night.

“Aye, just checking in,” he answers as he bends to plant a kiss to her forehead. “Morning, love,” he says to Tink.

“Good morning, fearless leader. Everything all set for today?”

“Yes, indeed,” he answers playfully. She hasn’t ever seen him this light and happy outside of his bed when they share it together. The prospect of finally, finally leaving is a weight lifted off of all of their shoulders, and it’s clear that his spirits are lifting the closer they get to implementing their escape. “Just taking care of some last minute details.”

Tink nods knowingly, and Emma immediately wonders what he’s talking about. Without her having to ask, she turns to Emma and explains, “convincing Elsa to go will take a certain level of… finesse.”

“Not to worry,” Killian consoles gently, placing his hand on hers and giving her a soft and loving smile. It’s the one she knows he saves just for her-- the one she never saw until they started to get close. “I’ll take care of it. I’m about to go and talk to her now, I just couldn’t resist giving my lady love a kiss before I went.”

She giggles like someone who has never felt pain before and he bends towards her, planting a soft, slow kiss to her lips that leaves her craving more. She’ll always crave more. And soon, she won’t have to deny herself the pleasure of being with him

~~~~

They’re almost ready. Robin and Killian just need a few more things, some food and clothes and weapons with which to defend themselves, before they're ready to depart. Emma has already shaken enough from Neal’s safe to last them, and she’s certain that he hasn’t noticed and likely won’t until long after they’re gone. The availability of Gold’s yacht is certainly convenient as well, but they must be careful to load their supplies at the last minute, just before they're ready to leave, to avoid being caught.

Really, all that’s left is to round each of them up. Tink is more than ready, the two of them dreaming of fleeing for years and finally ready to take action. Robin has been silently wishing his life to be different since he was born into the club. The only person he truly worries about is Elsa, because she’s been gaslighted and unfortunately hasn’t been able to see past their tactics. She spent most of her life here, her mother bringing her and her sister into this lifestyle when they were just children. Now, he has to go against decades of brainwashing to convince her that it’s dangerous here-- that it’s not worth the risk that comes with staying.

He’s just stepping out of his apartment, having just dropped off some groceries, when it happens. He doesn't even see who does it. He isn’t sure who hits him and with what. But in the blink of an eye, his hopes are dashed as his world goes dark.

~~~~

The blackness fades slowly, the buzzing around the edges of his vision dissolving as he comes to. He moves to scrub his hand over his eyes, but it doesn’t move, prevented by the rough material around his wrist. His other stays put as well, the same material keeping him still.

Of course, he thinks in the darkness of the muggy, dank room. Of course this is happening. They were so happy-- they were so close. Of course they’re found out just before they planned to leave.

“Ah, he lives. Glad you didn’t knock him out too hard, Neal.”

“I want him to suffer some more before I do.”

He wants to roll his eyes, but when he tries, he’s met with innumerable pain. Neal must have done a number on him, his eye swollen and painful. With each breath, his ribs sting and he hisses. He mumbles, “Bloody hell,” but it’s probably a bad idea.

Another fist strikes the left side of his face, further damaging his skin and the bone and tissue underneath and making him cry out. “You’re in for it now, Hook,” Neal hisses. “Elsa told Peter what you did, and I'm gonna make you suffer for it.”

He lets out a pained groan, blood trickling from his cheek. He tries again to wipe it away, but the ropes stop him, burning the tender skin of his wrist. “Elsa?” he asks in confusion, still fighting against the haze that’s perpetuated by another strike, this time to his right cheek. His neck cracks in such a way that can’t be good news as his head is whipped to the side.

“That’s right. Did you expect loyalty from your family? Good luck with that. Unlike you, she understands that we are her family.”

Something hard whacks against his shin, making him cry in pain again. It’s not a fist; more likely to be a metal rod or perhaps a plank of wood. “That’s right, Neal,” Peter praises. “We’re all family. Elsa doesn’t have loyalty to only one.”

“Because you’ve brainwashed her,” he argues, met with another strike against his already stinging ribs.

“We’ve enlightened her. She’s dedicated to her family.” He isn’t even sure which one of them speaks as Neal delivers another sharp blow to his chin.

His ears ring as Neal’s open palms meet them, clapping both sides of his head at once and making his eyes grow wide in breathless agony. He can barely make a sound in response, his jaw dropping but any noise in protest stuck in his throat.

As the fog in his brain clears after a few moments, Neal allowing him to recover slightly before continuing his torture, he finally speaks again. “She also told us how she found out. She overheard you in the bathroom. During Rufio’s funeral. You sick bastard.”

His hand finds Killian’s throat, squeezing firmly until one eye starts twitching and his lips begin to go numb. Then he squeezes harder.

“Tell him what she heard, Neal.”

“You murdered Rufio,” he accuses knowingly, and Killian realizes that any sense of privacy that he and Emma thought they had was false, even with the door locked. Elsa must’ve gone to use the bathroom they commandeered, and she must’ve been forced to tell Peter and Neal what she overheard when she was caught, too.

“And what else?”

“She heard you attacking my girlfriend,” he hisses, throwing Killian back until his throat is released, although it’s at the expense of his back as the chair tips and he lands solidly against the concrete ground. “She heard you trying to take advantage of her!”

He lets out a rasped, choking sound as Neal’s boot pushes against his throat, barely giving him time to recover from his last assault. He can’t breathe, the muscles in his neck protesting against the firm weight pressed to him. He isn’t sure if the back of his head hit the floor when he collided with it, but he knows that would be bad.

“You fucking bastard!” Neal screams, clearly not worried about their location or activities being given away by an excessive noise level. “You tried to ruin her? Why?!”

Neal’s question needs to be answered with finesse. He can’t say anything that will imply that Emma was in any way a willing participant in their activities. He can’t let Neal find out that their affair is two-sided-- that they love each other. That they plan to run away together.

Of course, the possibility of their plan actually going off at this point is slim. Honestly, Neal might kill him tonight, his derangement making it impossible for him to see that Emma wants out just as badly as he does.

“Answer me!” he finally screams again, removing his boot and driving it forcefully into Killian's ribs. He can’t even double over, or roll onto his side to ease the pain, because he’s still bound to his chair. “Did that whore let you soil her? Or did you force yourself on her?”

“She had noth-- nothing to do with it,” he gasps, barely able to speak, barely able to breathe. “It meant nothing; she means nothing to me. I just did it to piss you off.”

Neal kicks his broken ribs again and Killian sees white. His vision blurs in response to his torment, but he hopes he doesn’t pass out because he knows he might not wake up if he does. It would be so easy to give into the blackness that clouds the outer rim of his sight, but he can’t.

“You took advantage of her. She’s weak, she can’t defend herself. She doesn't know what’s best for her. How dare you?”

“Aye,” he agrees painfully. It hurts to admit this in falsity almost as much as it hurts when Neal’s heel drives into his stomach.

He hears Peter say something, but his voice is tinny in his ears and he can’t make out his words. He’s slipping under the blanket of unconsciousness, the numbness taking over far too intriguing as he lets his eyes fall shut and his mind go black.

~~~~

“Bring him out,” Peter commands, his violent voice making Emma jump in her seat. She can’t help but notice that her chair has been placed suspiciously closer to Neal’s than it usually is. He sits beside her, his body still and rigid and his eyes staring straight ahead. His face is threatening and tense, his jaw locked. “I need everyone to see what happens when you betray this family.”

A family meeting was called unexpectedly, interrupting Emma's sham of dedication to her research. She and Tink stared at each other, terror written across both of their faces as they stood and followed the small crowd to the intimidating room, met with Peter looking absolutely irate at the head of the table. Neal’s knuckles are bruised and bloodied, she’s realized.

The door opens slowly, two men dragging along a limp and seemingly lifeless form before throwing him into a chair and laughing when he groans.

Killian.

Emma stiffens, her eyes stinging and filling with tears that she immediately works to blink away. She bites the inside of her cheek until she tastes blood. She can’t let anyone see her reaction to seeing him like this, but the fact is, she thinks she might be dying on the inside.

He’s so broken, so mutilated. The bruises on his face make him almost unrecognizable, the swelling of his eyes and chin and cheeks distorting his beautiful features painfully. He’s holding his arm over his middle, likely suffering from some injuries to his ribs. He looks like he can barely breathe. There are deep purple bruises painted around his neck, taking on the shape of someone’s angry fingers.

The same angry fingers grab for hers, and she knows immediately that Neal has done this to him. He’s hurt her endlessly, but now he’s battered the man she loves, and this cannot stand.

“Tell the men what you’ve done, Hook,” Peter insists. One of the men holding him upright in his chair, Walsh, snickers madly.

“I--” he starts, his voice rough and tattered. Walsh laughs as he pushes his hand against one of his bruises for sport, causing Killian to wince. “I killed Rufio.”

The men around the table gasp, each of them straightening and making as though they’re about to stand and hurt him even more.

“And what else?”

“I tried to damage Neal’s property. I manipulated her; I told her lies to make her believe that I felt something for her.”

The words are rehearsed. They trained him in exactly what to say. But still, she feels a stab in her heart at him announcing that she means nothing to him. “And tell them why.”

“Because I’m mad. I wanted to cause Neal pain. And I--” he cries out again as Walsh pushes his finger against another angry bruise, laughing at his response. “I want to cause the club to suffer.”

“He wants the club to suffer, and he’s succeeded. I want everyone to take a long, hard look at the man who used to be our brother. Killian Jones is a dead man. He’ll die at sunrise, but for now, he’s to act as a symbol to anyone considering betraying the club. We’re a family, and we will not be trifled with.”

The crowd around the table cheers loudly in agreement, each of them getting riled up in response to Peter’s ostentatious speech. He continues, “As for the Kings of Elsinore, we’ll continue our plans of attack. I don’t know about you lot, but I’ve about had enough of people who want to see us suffer. No one messes with the Lost Boys and lives to tell the tale!” The men cheer, fists banging against the table and making Emma jump. “They Kings will be a symbol for any other club thinking of going up against us. We are the rulers here! Prepare for battle, men. At dawn, we raid the Kings’ clubhouse!”

She’s silent as the room empties slowly, everyone who walks past Killian giving him some form of further physical punishment as they make their way out the door. Soon, it’s just Robin who remains, staring angrily at Killian, and Neal by her side.

“Ems,” Neal says darkly, and her blood runs cold in sudden fear. She’s been so consumed with worry and anger for Killian that she hasn’t even considered the repercussions from Neal at them being discovered.

She turns to face him nervously, her fingers shaking as she grips the arms of the chair. “Yeah?” she nearly whispers.

He gives her a soft, if not terrifying smile that she thinks is an attempt at being comforting. “I forgive you.”

Her brows raise on her head, almost meeting her hairline, and she asks, “You… what?”

“I know this bastard manipulated you. I know you’re not… Well, I know you're naive and desperate for attention wherever you can get it. Hook trying to seduce you isn’t your fault. I forgive you.”

She nods weakly, feeling as though she's in a trance. In a moment of clarity and brilliance, she decides to go along with his thoughts and says, “Can I have a minute with him? I need to look into the eyes of the man who… who tried to hurt us.” She chooses her words carefully, saying exactly what she knows will coerce him into giving her what she truly wants.

“I don’t know, baby,” he shakes his head, taking her hand and roughly dragging it towards his mouth. “That’s not your brightest idea.”

“Robin’s here,” she reasons. “Look at him-- he’s just as mad as we are that his friend betrayed our family. He’ll keep me safe.”

He gives her another leering smile that she’s sure he thinks is sweet and winks. “I guess you’re not so useless up here after all,” he concedes, tapping his finger against her temple. She forces herself not to flinch away. “Rob,” he barks as he stands, “keep her safe from this asshole.”

“‘Course, mate,” Robin answers, taking Neal’s hand and shaking it. “I’ll watch him like a hawk.”

Neal is out the door in an instant, not bothering to say anything more to Emma in favor of shoving against Killian’s shoulder on his way out.

She's still for a moment, taking in the grievous sight of him and barely able to move. It takes her just a second after he lets his eyes fall shut and a weak breath fall from his lips to hurry to him and take his hands. “Killian,” she pleads in a whisper.

His brows screw together in pain and she pulls back, but his grip on her hand tightens. “I’m sorry,” he struggles.

“No,” she cries, pressing her lips firmly to the top of his hand, the one part of him that hasn’t been battered violently. “Don’t say that, baby. It’s okay. You’re gonna be fine.”

“I didn’t mean it.” He opens his eyes, or tries to, one of them almost completely swollen shut. She’s met with his genuineness, and it breaks her heart.

“I know that,” she promises. “You didn’t have to take all of this punishment just to keep me safe.”

“They’ll never hurt you,” he vows, and it’s like he's promising himself, too. She stands, bending at her knees so that she can look at him head on. His bottom lip is swollen and bloody, but she plants a kiss there anyway.

“I love you,” she tells him seriously. “I’m so sorry.”

He doesn’t respond-- she doesn’t think he can-- but she does feel him squeezing her hand once more and bumping his likely broken nose against hers.

This is her fault. He wouldn’t be here if not for her. If not for her making stupid mistakes and getting caught up in ridiculously dangerous situations, she wouldn’t be here and he would be okay. He wouldn’t be bleeding and bruised and have cracked ribs, and she wouldn’t be worried about his lungs being punctured or his skull being fractured. She would be alone, she would be lost without ever knowing him, but at least he would be okay.

“We have to get him out,” she says to Rob after a few moments of thick and desperate silence. “He needs help; he needs a doctor.”

“I know,” he nods in agreement.

“No,” Killian begs weakly. “Just go. Leave me, please. Don’t risk getting caught--” he cuts himself off, gasping in pain as he tries to move in his chair. “Please.”

“Killian, no offense, but shut up,” Robin says. “We’re all planning to flee. There’s not a chance in hell we let you die while we walk free.”

“Right,” Emma breathes, relieved to hear that his friend feels the same as she does. “It’s almost dark. Do you think anyone will be here much longer? Can we sneak him out?”

“Rob,” he practically whimpers, letting his head drop back as his breath catches against the pain in his throat. “Please. Don’t put her in any more danger. Please.”

The room falls silent again as Robin considers his friend’s pleas, looking between the two of them pensively. Honestly, she doesn't care how it’s done. She just needs to make sure that Killian is out of here and away from danger as soon as possible so that they can follow through with their plan.

“Alright,” Robin concedes. “Emma, you should go back with Neal. We still don’t want to tip anyone off to our plans. I’ll get him out since I’m supposed to be keeping watch anyway. But at that point, we’ll both be wanted by the club. Round up Tink and Elsa and meet us. You talked to them both, right?” he asks Killian.

He shakes his head. “You have to check on Elsa first,” he insists. “Leave me and make sure she’s alright. She told them--” He gasps again, and Emma rubs her thumbs over the tops of his hands. When he looks into her eyes, he says, “She’s how they found out.”

“What-- she what?”

Emma’s dumbfounded, shaking her head in thought, unable to wrap her mind around the betrayal. It isn’t until her conversation with Tink makes itself known in her memory that she realizes what she meant.

Elsa’s loyalty lies with her family.

“Emma, please, check on her. They probably tortured it out of her.”

She nods, if only so that she doesn’t cause him any further distress as she figures out the truth. There isn’t much about this lifestyle that makes sense to her, but one thing that seems abundantly clear is the fact that Elsa has never been as loyal to her brother-in-law as he has to her. Emma doubts very much that Elsa was tortured at all, much more likely to have given up the information freely.

“I will,” she promises, kissing the top of his left hand. “I’ll meet you soon. I love you.”

“I love you,” he whispers, letting his eyes fall shut.

When she stands, she makes anxious eye contact with Robin and says, “Get him out of here. He needs to see a doctor.”

“I will. Grab Tink and Elsa and meet me at the docks when you can. I’ll wait a few hours before I start looking for you.”

She nods, making her way towards the door and making a silent vow to herself. She’ll grab Tink, and she’ll prove her own hunch about what Elsa has done to Killian.

~~~~

Robin has just gotten to the docks, tucking his friend away safely on the boat they’ve pilfered, when he hears the footsteps. He got Killian to the bed, cleaned his wounds-- although he didn’t look much better when he was done with him-- and gave him some rum to help him sleep before he heard someone rustling above deck. Only it’s too soon for Emma to be back. As he steps out of the cabin, he sees a shadowy figure on the dock.

“You,” the figure calls, making their way towards their stolen boat. Robin nervously reaches for his gun and points it at the shadow. They reach for something as well, holding it up before themselves, and Robin cocks his gun in response.

“I’m armed,” he warns.

“FBI.”

~~~~

Tagging: @courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64 @onceratheart18 @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89 @swampmedusa @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy @love-with-you-i-have-everything @shireness-says @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @ouatpost @daxx04 @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @therooksshiningknight @eeteeaytay @xsajx @itsfridaysomewhere @alexa-fangirl-forever @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @qualitycoffeethings @rapunzelsghosts @spaceconveyor @badcats-andmice @batana54 @sailtoafarawayland @deckerstarblanche @zaharadessert @xarandomdreamx @hookedmom @pirateprincessofpizza

#Watch the Sunlight Fade #captain swan #captain swan fanfic #cs ff #sunlight ff #captain swan au #killian jones #whump #killian jones whump #captain swan angst #once upon a time #ouat ff

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konlyfans · 3 years

Text

Bambi

pairing: au!Ten x au!Johnny x female reader

genre: all the smut

summary: the second installment in Eden, I’m so excited I finally finished this. in this one, you and your bestie are booked together for a weekend that’s sure to be full of surprises.

“Good morning, Elsa,” you yawn as you plop down onto the couch next to your best friend, Ten. He’s still in his pajama set just like you, though his top hangs unbuttoned and showing off his toned and tattooed torso. He pulls you close, swinging your legs over his and resting his head on your chest.

“Good morning,” your virtual assistant greets.

“Felix had a long night,” you tell her, “we can start this morning without him.”

“Alright. I suppose it doesn’t matter since the only new request is for the two of you.” Ten grunts a sound of confusion as your eyebrows lift. It’s not the first time you’ll be paired with another person for a client, but it’s your first client with him. “A new client by the name of Johnny has requested you both for the weekend.”

“And the details,” Ten prompts.

“As follows: ‘I would like one submissive female, and one male switch. I’m not looking for anything too rough, in fact I’d like a rather sensual weekend. I would prefer they follow orders with little pushback, and begging is appreciated. I would like to meet Friday night in the presidential suite, and have the pair for the full weekend. Gifts will be included. No specific kinks or costumes, but I’d like them to dress sexy and arrive together.’”

“It’s not like it’s our first time sleeping together,” you shrug, “and honestly the gifts have me sold.”

“I’m down, but I’m not very used to topping...”

“Your client is inexperienced with men, Ten,” Elsa informs quickly. “Shall I confirm your date?”

“Yes please,” you both answer in harmony.

“Perfect. Please have Felix check in with me once he’s awake. He has a reschedule from a regular of his.” With that, your virtual assistant disconnects, leaving you and Ten to prepare mentally for your date the next night.

“He said he wants a switch... So maybe he just trying to see what he likes? Maybe you won’t have to top for very long...” You ponder aloud, pulling Ten from his thoughts.

“You’re gonna top?” You both turn to see Felix come into the room, rubbing his eyes and stretching a little. Wearing just his sleep pants you can see the bruises and scratches that litter his torso from his aggressive date the night before. “Even I would pay to see that.”

“Shut up,” Ten snaps, “I’ve done it before.”

“She was really rough on you, wasn’t she?” You frown as you beckon the youngest closer. “How are you feeling?” He snuggles in behind you, dragging his nose across the swell of your shoulder and inhaling the comfort with a low grumble. With Ten wrapped in your arms and Felix being your big spoon, you’re filled with a familiar sense of love.

“I’m alright,” he assures you in his velvet baritone. “Why are you two all tangled up?”

“Our next date is together,” you spill, “and the client wants him to switch.”

“Now I would definitely pay to see that,” Felix chuckles as he affectionately kisses your ear.

Hand in hand, wearing similarly colored outfits, you and Ten use the key you’d been given to enter the presidential suite. The pair of you took a ‘let’s do this’ shot of something sweet at the bar before coming up, and you can still taste the sugar and liquor on your tongue while you walk in the door. The presidential suite has always been one of your favorites; from the floor to ceiling windows that offered and amazing view of the city, to the expensive furniture and faux fireplace, everything oozed luxury. You squeeze Ten’s hand and giggle, touching your nose to his shoulder as you do. He practically beams at you, you’re always so cute in your sub space, and for a moment you think he may kiss you.

“Well aren’t you two adorable,” a deep voice states, cutting into the moment. You look up and lock eyes with your date for the weekend, Johnny. He’s much taller than you thought he’d be, and his broad chest peeks out from where he’s undone the first few buttons of his dress shirt. Ten hums in approval at your side, like he’s just been served a treat he can’t wait to dig into, and you watch Johnny’s gaze shift to him. The way he looks at Ten is different, he’s completely enamored as he lets out a breathy laugh. “You’re both more stunning than I remembered.”

“You’ve seen us before,” Ten asks, tilting his slightly.

“Once upon a time I came here for a drink with a few friends, and you two were at the bar with another young blonde guy. All three of you were adorable together, laughing and dancing... I could tell you guys had something unique going on. When I found out I could book both of you together, I couldn’t resist.”

“We’re all roommates,” you inform him, “and dates. But I’d be lying if I said we haven’t all played together once or twice.”

“That’s... So sexy,” Johnny sighs, and you can see a bulge already forming in his slacks.

“Can I ask why you chose me too? Our assistant said you were...” Ten trails off, trying to find the right words.

“Inexperienced?” Johnny smiles. “I’m inexperienced, but attracted. I don’t know if I want to top or bottom or both... But I want to find out.”

“We’ll take good care of you,” you promise, voice sweet as honey as you look back at your best friend and ask, “won’t we?”

“Of course we will,” Ten agrees, never taking his eyes from Johnny. “What are our rules?”

Johnny looks confused for a moment and sort of shrugs. “I figured we could just use the color system if needed, but I have no rules. I’m open to anything as long as we communicate freely.”

“I have one rule to add,” you say softly and Ten squeezes your hand reassuringly. He knows what you want to say, and as you meet his soft gaze you feel to shy about it to continue, so he does for you.

“In addition to green, yellow and red... Blue is for a medical emergency and purple is for mental.” He looks at Johnny then with a new seriousness in his tone. “I’ve never had to use a safe word in my life, but she has. So since we don’t exactly have a plan here just be mindful.”

“Absolutely, of course,” Johnny nods firmly. There’s a short lull between the three of you with each of you wondering where to start. You hurry to break the tension as you kick off your shoes as take the lead towards the bedroom, now barefoot and grinning from ear to ear.

“Last one to the bed is the first one on their knees,” you quip before scurrying away ahead of them. You hear the fumble to follow as Ten laughs and falls behind. You climb onto the bed in time to see Johnny right on your heels, and Ten stops in the doorway, defeated.

“I guess I lost,” Ten pouts. Johnny sits at the edge of the bed, lust filling his gaze as Ten comes close enough to sink to his knees in front of him. You get on your knees behind Johnny, wrapping your arms around him and unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way. You let your hands roam the expanse of his newly exposed skin while Johnny undoes his pants and watches Ten expectantly.

“Goes easy on me,” Johnny tells the both of you, “I’m a little excited.”

“A little,” Ten chuckles, now laying his eyes on quite the hard-on trapped in Johnny’s boxers. “There is nothing little about that, handsome. Can I have it in my mouth? Please,” he adds, looking up at Johnny through his lashes. Johnny can only nod as he stands just enough to get his pants and boxers to his knees, then he falls back into your arms. Ten wraps his hand carefully around Johnny’s cock, pumping slowly and licking his lips. You watch the way Ten deliberately takes the the tip between his lips, making Johnny drop his head back to your shoulder and exhale shakily. He looks cute with his lips around Johnny’s girth.

“Can I have kisses,” you whisper sweetly to the man in your arms. Turning to you, he mutters something incoherent before he gives you what you ask. The sound of Ten working diligently sparks a fire deep in your belly that’s quickly pooling between your thighs, and soon you’re moaning right along with Johnny, caressing your fingers gently over his nipples. You want to be touched too, but this weekend is about him.

“You’re twitching so bad,” Ten notes as he stops abruptly. “I don’t want to give you too much to fast.” Johnny already looks like he can’t think straight, so you and Ten take this chance to undress him the rest of the way. Once he’s naked, you and Ten follow, giving a little show of undressing each other. Johnny scoots up the bed a bit, making it easy for him to settle down on his back and you take initiative to straddle his waist. “Hey,” Ten says softly, voice aimed at you. There’s a smirk on his lips as he leans in and captures you in a hungry kiss. His nimble fingers dip between your legs, dancing over your entrance as his knuckles brush Johnny’s dick, and he finds you soaking wet.

“Oh fuck,” Johnny sighs in awe at the sight of the two of you. You feel his calloused fingers trail up your thighs till he can grab your hips while he watches Ten slip his fingers inside you. He hardly needs to prep you but he does anyway, rolling his thumb over your clit. “Can I kiss you too,” Johnny timidly interrupts. You know he’s asking for Ten, one hand has left your hip and you feel Ten groan against your tongue. You break the kiss to see Johnny’s hand wrapped around Ten’s cock, stroking him slow.

“You heard him,” you grin, “kiss him.” Ten is anything but shy as he presses his lips to Johnny’s, he leads the kiss with confidence and desire. You take it upon yourself to work Johnny up again, though you can’t take your eyes away from the way their tongues tangle. You sit yourself on Johnny’s cock, sliding him between your folds as you grind your hips back and forth, coating him in your honey.

“Wait, I have an idea,” Ten declares, and you pause to listen. Johnny looks half drunk and like he might not hear what comes next. “Johnny, get on top. We’re gonna try something.” You’re surprised that Johnny complies immediately, and you’re pinned under him as he’s scattering kisses across your chest. Then he shivers, you feel it run the length of his tall body while his forehead drops to your shoulder. You crane your neck to see that Ten has disappeared behind him, presumably rimming him. A trembling moan leaves Johnny’s lips, and you run your fingers through his hair.

“Relax, just breathe.” You kiss all over his face, and he’s barely holding himself together. “How do you feel?”

“So fucking good,” he shivers again. You can hear the cap of a bottle of lube open and close, though Ten never stops his tongue against Johnny as he slicks his fingers.

“Let me know if it’s too much,” Ten says, and you feel Johnny tense completely. Ten kneels behind him now, slowly easing one lubed finger into him. You’re almost sure Johnny stops breathing for a while as Ten begins to pump his finger slowly.

“I don’t... I don’t know if this is for me,” Johnny confesses quietly against your shoulder, and Ten immediately stops. “I’m sorry...”

“Don’t be, I don’t really enjoy being on top anyway.” He smooths his hands over Johnny’s back and gives you a wink, letting you step in again. “Why don’t you take care of her first, hm? She’s so wet for you.” Ten slides a condom onto Johnny and just like that he’s pushing into you. There’s a slight burn as he stretches you open and rolls his hips so he’s buried deep.

Johnny swears under his breath as he starts to fuck you, and he wasn’t lying when he said he wanted a sensual weekend. He takes his time, dragging his length so you feel every inch, tip to base. You cling to him and note the way that Ten gently massages his ass, not putting his finger back in but keeping it how Johnny liked. You feel bad that he’s gotten almost nothing out of this so far, but you’re too distracted by the way Johnny is making love to you to do anything about it.

“Ten… Baby, come here.” Obediently Ten shuffles up the bed till he’s kneeling beside you, brushing rebellious strands of hair from your forehead. Your eyes flutter shut for a moment until you hear Ten moan, and you open them to see Johnny sucking Ten off. Johnny takes him in easily, but he quickly gets sloppy as his hips begin to stutter. You’re honestly impressed, the way Johnny seems to be enjoying him make you clench around him.

“Can I touch myself,” you ask, knowing better than to try without permission, “please, I’m so close.” Before Johnny can try to answer Ten grabs him by the hair, refusing to let him stop.

“Go ahead baby,” Ten tells you, letting a bit more of his dominance show as he begins to thrust into Johnny’s mouth. He keeps a tight hold on Johnny’s hair, and you can tell Johnny loves it by the way he whines. You hurry to squeeze your hand between you and Johnny where you rub tight circles on your clit, and you feel the flower of an orgasm blooming in you. “Please.... Please do that again,” Ten whines, and you assume Johnny did something he loved. He sounds as close to cumming as you are, and you begin to moan louder the closer you get.

Somehow, like the besties you are, you and Ten manage to cum at the same time. He messily covers Johnny’s lips and tongue in thick white ropes and you gush around Johnny’s cock till it drips onto the sheets. Johnny isn’t far behind, you feel the devastating emptiness as he pulls out, tosses the condom aside, and ejaculates so hard it hits your chin. He’s beautiful with his head thrown back, hand flying over his length as warbling moans bubble from his chest. You don’t realize your staring till he looks at you and Ten and smiles shyly.

“It’s... Well it’s been a while,” he chuckles breathlessly. “That was better than I ever expected.” He wipes his thumb across hip bottom lip to clean off Ten’s release, and you open your mouth to taste it with a little ‘ahh’. Johnny lets you suck his thumb until it’s clean, and Ten leans in to kiss him again.

“Well, you’ve got the rest of the weekend for more of the unexpected,” Ten promises.

#nct smut #nct johnny #nct ten #wayv ten #wayv smut #kpop smut #kpop fan fic

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whimsicallyenchantedrose · 3 years

Text

Once Upon a Flower Shop

Pairing: Captain Swan

Summary: When Killian’s flower shop, Jolly Blooms Flower Shop, fails to deliver the bouquet Emma ordered, she pays the establishment a rather angry visit. Little to either of them know this mix up might just turn into the best thing that ever happened to them.

Rating: G/K

Words: 1520

Other Chapters: (2) (3)

This fic was written for the #love4teamhook event as a way to support Alma, @teamhook while she’s going through a difficult time. Thanks to @jrob64 for her work in betaing for me!

Killian Jones cupped the delicate blooms of an orchid in his hand and nodded in satisfaction. He’d been rather worried about this particular plant. It had shown signs of distress a week past, and for several days he’d feared it wouldn’t make it. He had done his research, separated the diseased plant from its mates and cared for it as tenderly as a parent would their child.

Today was the first day the orchid showed signs of improvement. Like Killian himself, this orchid was a survivor.

Killian gathered up the plant and placed it back inside the bright, humid greenhouse, and then stepped back behind the counter of his shop Jolly Blooms Flower Shop. Sometimes it amazed him, the life he now led. As a young man, he’d longed for adventure, danger. He’d joined the navy to be close to his brother, and the life they’d led had been fascinating. He’d loved every minute of it.

Until the moment his brother Liam opted to leave the navy and marry his highschool sweetheart, Elsa.

Suddenly, with his brother no longer at his side, danger and adventure no longer looked nearly as appealing. Left at a crossroads, he’d taken some time to evaluate what he wanted to do with his life, and in the end, he’d opted for the pursuit of beauty.

There was something so calming and yet rejuvenating about being surrounded day after day by beautiful flowers. Providing a product that brought joy and comfort to his clients was infinitely rewarding. His was a quiet, peaceful existence.

His introspection was interrupted when his shop door was suddenly, forcefully opened. He looked up to find himself face to face with the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Her golden hair fell on her shoulders and down her back like a cloud of sunshine. Her green eyes shone.

Unfortunately, today they seemed to be shining with anger. So much for his quiet, peaceful existence.

“May...may I help you, love?” he asked, hesitantly as she reached his counter, planted her feet and crossed her arms.

“Yeah, I wanted you to help me yesterday, but apparently asking for a flower shop to deliver flowers was too big of an ask,” she clipped out.

Killian found himself at a loss for words, barely even registering what the vision before him said. They say when you’ve found your soulmate, your True Love, you just know. You can feel it. He’d rather thought that was nonsense, but now...well, now he was beginning to rethink every notion he’d ever had about attraction, romance and even love itself.

“Well?” she exploded, planting her splayed hands on his wooden counter and scowling fiercely at him.

Killian blinked, shaking his head slightly, willing himself to come back to his senses. Whatever his attraction might be to this woman, she was a customer, and he must get it together and provide her the customer service that had made him one of the most sought-after small flower shops in the area.

“My apologies,” he said. “Was there a problem with a flower delivery?”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh I don’t know. I ordered a bouquet to be delivered yesterday, and yet still no flowers have arrived. Seems like a bit of a problem to me!”

Killian frowned. He’d had several flower orders go out yesterday, and he’d gotten no complaints from his delivery people that they’d been unable to complete their tasks successfully. “Could I have your name, love?”

“Not your love,” she gritted out. “Emma Swan. I ordered a bouquet of snowbells to be delivered to Mary Margaret Nolan. It was very important that they arrive yesterday on her birthday.”

He remembered the order, because of its unusualness. Few people specifically requested snow bells, and those who did typically wished for them to be an accent in a larger arrangement rather than the sole flower within the arrangement.

Killian typed for a moment on his computer, bringing up the order details. “According to my records, that bouquet was delivered as requested bright and early yesterday morning.”

“And yet my sister still does not have her bouquet of flowers,” the woman, Emma Swan, said.

Killian peered down at his information once again and groaned. Will. He should have known his newest--and most annoying--employee would be at the center of any mix up.

“Scarlet!” he called over his shoulder.

A moment later the man in question stepped through the back room door and walked up to the two of them. “Anything I can do for ya boss?”

“There seems to be a mistake with yesterday’s deliveries,” Killian said, willing himself to keep his voice even. There was just something about Will Scarlet and his care-free and yet somehow insolent style that made Killian wish to throttle him more often than not.

“Nope,” Will said, grinning. “No problems with yesterday’s deliveries. Handed the flowers personally to every person on my list.”

“What about the bouquet of snowbells for Mary Margaret Nolan?”

Will tapped on his chin, seemingly deep in thought, and then he brightened. “I remember her. Pretty woman, that. Long, curly, fire-red hair. Kinda thought about asking her out, but decided that might not be so professional-like.”

“Curly red hair?” Emma Swan bit out. “Mary Margaret doesn’t have curly red hair. She has dark brown! I don’t think she even knows anyone with curly red hair!”

“Did you confirm the name of the recipient?” Killian asked.

“Yep, just like you taught me,” Will said, nodding vigorously.

“And this red-head confirmed that her name was Mary Margaret?” Killian asked.

“Well, I mean she said her name was Merida,” Will conceded, “but I figured hey, that must be a nickname for Mary Margaret or somethin’.”

Killian rubbed at his temples, a pounding headache beginning to set in. “And you didn’t think to confirm that you had the right address and that this person, with a different name, was the actual intended recipient of your delivery?”

Will shrugged. “Hey, I don’t ask questions. I just go where the Google maps lady tells me.”

Killian full-on facepalmed this time before glaring at his unbelievably dense employee. “Just...just go back to what you were doing. Later, we’ll have a long, probably rather loud discussion about the proper way to deliver flowers.”

Killian watched the idiot disappear into the backroom, muttering to himself about it being Mrs. Google’s fault and then turned back to face the wrath of the avenging angel before him.

“Miss Swan, my sincerest apologies for this unfortunate mistake,” he said. “The delivery man at fault will be dealt with, and I will set to work this moment to create a replacement for your sister.”

The remainder of the visit was completed in a matter of moments. Killian took down his dream woman’s information, apologized profusely, and then assured her yet again that he would personally see to the creation and delivery of the arrangement, that it would be his first priority.

Killian’s reassurances seemed to mollify the woman slightly, though her ire was clearly not entirely ameliorated. Satisfied that she’d at least accomplished what she’d set out to do, Emma Swan turned and walked briskly out of his shop and out of his life.

It rather amazed Killian what a profound sense of loss he felt as the door closed behind the lovely lady. He’d only known her for the space of five minutes, for Zeus’s sake, and most of that was spent with her yelling at him. It made no sense that he’d feel such a deep, elemental pull to her already, and yet the heart wanted what the heart wanted.

Killian grabbed a vase and headed in the direction of his snowbells. There was no doubt about it; he must find a way to see Emma Swan again. Slowly, an idea began to take shape within his mind. It was a bold move, perhaps even risky, but if there’s one thing Liam had instilled in him it was this: A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets.

If he didn’t at least try with Emma Swan, Killian knew he’d regret it for the rest of his life.

Notes:

--This story is loosely inspired by The Words music video, as you might have picked up. I’ve never written about florist Killian before, and I decided it was time to change that.

--I’m anticipating 2 more short chapters that I’ll post on each of the next Thursdays. (The point of this event was to post one shots...but my muse is terrible at following directions, lol.

--Up next: We’ll get some Killian pining (a la the music video), but the bulk of the chapter will be from Emma’s POV. We’ll find out why she was so angry about her flowers not being delivered, and we’ll see her reaction to Killian putting into action the plan he comes up with at the end of this chapter.

NEXT CHAPTER-->

#love4teamhook #teamhook #cs ff #captain swan au ff #cs florist au ff #fluff #my fanfiction

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bad-at-names-and-faces · 2 years

Text

Plus One

Day 25, fake dating. I was thinking, does fake dating always have to lead to angst or real dating or even any sort of pining or misunderstanding or prelude to meeting “the one”? I don’t think so. On that note, here we go: modern AU Elsa and human!Olaf, just being friends.

Elsa sat at her desk sipping at her ice tea, staring out the window. It was a slow time of year, and she really didn’t have much work this afternoon. She didn’t need to be in the office, but if anything did come up, she’d just have to come right back, anyway.

There was a knock at the door.

“Hi, Elsa!” Olaf chirped, walking in.

“Oh, hi, Olaf,” Elsa replied. “What are you doing here?”

“Are you busy? Because I could come back later,” he said, starting to back up.

“I’m not busy,” Elsa assured him, “I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t a professional question.”

“No, no it’s probably rather unprofessional,” Olaf chuckled.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, there’s this friend’s wedding coming up, and I need to bring a date along.”

“Wait, what?”

“Are you going to be busy this weekend?”

“I- No, I don’t have plans, but what kind of date is this?”

“I told an aunt of mine that I’ve got a girlfriend, and now I need to produce one for my cousin’s wedding.”

“I’ll help you out, Olaf, but you know I don’t-”

“No, I totally understand, Elsa, that’s why I’m asking you.”

“Oh, um, I guess I’ll take that as a compliment?”

“Sure!” he smiled. “So, Saturday, I’ll pick you up at two?”

“Um, great?” Elsa said, watching Olaf turn and leave her office. “Bye, Olaf!”

***

“Wow, Elsa, you’re dressed up!” Anna called from the couch as Elsa walked through the living room. “What’s the occasion?”

“Olaf needed to bring a date to a cousin’s wedding, so I’m helping him out,” Elsa explained.

“Aw, that’s sweet of you,” Anna said, getting back to watching TV.

Elsa’s phone buzzed, and she noticed a car waiting out front. “Oh, looks like he’s here.”

“Is he coming in?” Anna asked.

Elsa checked the message on her phone. They were already running ten minutes late, and his family was punctual.

“Nope, we’ve got to get going now. I’ll probably be out late, just so you know,” Elsa said.

“No worries!” Anna called back. “Tell Olaf I said hi!”

“Will do, Anna. Have a good evening!”

Olaf was wearing a suit, sitting at the wheel of a decade old Honda Accord, and waved excitedly as he saw Elsa come out the door. He leaned over and opened the passenger side door.

“Hi, Elsa, thanks for doing this!”

“No problem,” Elsa laughed, “I’ve got to admit, it’s kind of fun to dress up like this.”

“This is a big help,” Olaf said as he pulled away from the curb.

“So, tell me,” Elsa asked, “what’s our story here? You told me your aunt thinks you have a girlfriend. I don’t want to mess this up.”

“Oh, so the good news is, I didn’t give her any details.”

“And the bad news?”

“Everyone else assumes I’m gay, so you might hear some comments about that.”

“Wait…” Elsa realized she really hadn’t thought to ask.

“That’s not important right now,” Olaf interrupted, anticipating her question. “The important thing is that my aunt has a friend whose son is in the theater program at the college, and I absolutely do not need that.”

“Oh, um, okay.” Elsa was even less sure of how she would answer any questions from Olaf’s family now, but that was fine.

“Anyhow, want some music?” Olaf asked. “I had the radio on before I picked you up. Light rock, is that fine?”

“Sure,” Elsa replied.

They pulled into the parking lot of a church. Elsa had missed the name, but it looked fairly nondescript and suburban.

The music had already started, though the wedding itself hadn’t, so they took the programs and got themselves seated. Elsa glanced at the program.

“Which one is your cousin?” she whispered.

“Samantha,” Olaf whispered back.

“Ah, I see,” Elsa replied, carefully setting the program on her lap once she heard the door close.

The ceremony seemed to drag on, though the musical selections were quite lovely. Once it was done, everyone seemed to be in a rush to get back outside. They congratulated the bride and groom, with nothing but polite smiles and thank yous from the family members.

As they stood around by the parking lot, Elsa realized that she might get roped into the family photo, and asked Olaf if that was what they were all waiting for.

“Don’t worry,” he told her, “my grandmother only lets people who are at least engaged be in family photos. You’re safe.”

“Ha, I hope that’s not part of our arrangement today?”

“Oh god I hope not,” Olaf laughed. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Elsa replied.

Olaf briefly left to appear in the family photo, and then everyone got in their cars to drive to the reception venue.

At the reception, they chatted with a few people, some of whom Elsa vaguely remembered from elementary school. There were some awkwardly vague conversations catching up with each other, and then they’d move on to another appetizer and another set of people to briefly chat with. Their table mates were cousins that Olaf hadn’t seen in several years, and spouses whose weddings he’d missed due to being out of the country at the time. For the most part, they seemed determinedly uncurious about their cousin’s plus-one.

When the rest of the table had gotten up for the first round of dancing, Elsa finally decided to ask Olaf what had been on her mind through the reception.

“So, which one is the aunt you told about the girlfriend?”

“She’s at table three. Why? Do you want to meet her?”

“Not particularly,” Elsa admitted.

“Oh, good!” Olaf exclaimed. “Because I really hadn’t figured out any backstory for us.”

“Telling the truth is usually easier,” Elsa said.

“Oh, I know,” Olaf said. “Anyhow, want to dance?”

“I don’t really dance,” Elsa said.

“Look at them!” Olaf said, pointing at the family and friends on the dance floor. “You’ll be fine.”

“Good point,” Elsa laughed. “Let’s go.”

#FFC 2022 #frozen fanfic #modern au #fake dating #Elsa #Olaf #no drama #Samantha

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botanicials · 3 years

Text

wish this was the full part, but here is a sneak peak of falling in love at a coffee shop. the first few rough paragraphs. coming soon! littles will be posted until then ❣️

falling in love at a coffee shop

i. (sneak peak!)

October 13

The cold NYC wind is forgiving for once, all things considered. You had just spent your evening watching over seven sugar high eight-year-olds that had decided finger painting was the ideal after school activity. It was laborious at times and their parents probably weren’t too pleased, but the kids were happy.

Your phone is warm against your cheek as you walk, owing to the Disney Favorites playlist you were asked to play- and Eloise skipping nearly every song that wasn’t sung by Elsa or Moana. Your mother’s words are insistent in your ear: plane tickets, dinners, graduation details.

“It isn’t for another… what? Four months? We’ll figure it out.”

You hear your mother sigh. “I’d rather plan everything out now, the end of the year brings me enough stress as is.”

“It-“

“And what is it with your graduation ceremony being in January? Such an odd time. I mean, right after the holidays? Don’t they realize we might want a bit of a break?”

You laugh lightly at that, eyes spotting the familiar rusting sign hanging up ahead. “Um, has to do with my hours and the kids’ semester ending. I don’t know. Tickets should be cheaper, they usually are after Christmas.”

“Suppose that’s a positive.”

“Definitely a positive- I’ll call you later, I’m grabbing some food so I can hurry up and get home. There's an apron covered with paint in my bag and I’m convinced it’ll stain everything I have inside.”

You begin to unwrap your scarf from your neck as you near closer to the mahogany red door, turning to push it open with your side. “You put an apron covered in paint in your bag?” She sounds incredulous.

“It’s rolled, mom. I’ll call you later.” You repeat.

“Soon.” She says, and you hum before finally ending the call.

A gust of warm air hits the chilled skin of your face when you enter, along with the strong aroma of brewing coffee and a hint of vanilla. You move quickly to close the door behind you, not wanting to disturb anyone with the reality of what they’d have to endure once they leave.

“Welcome in.”

Your eyes follow over to the voice that called out, to catch him take a quick glance at you before turning to meet your eyes again.

He’s not much taller than the familiar college students that work here, but judging from his shoulders, his build is clearly much larger. Atop his wool baby blue sweater is a- definitely used -burgundy apron you’ve seen time and time again. Who you haven’t seen, however, is him.

Once his eyes flicker to the new customer in front of him and back to you, you realize that you’d completely ignored his greeting. And hadn’t moved from the door?

You find yourself sending a clumsy smile before moving across the hardwood floors to stand in line behind the short balding man repeating his order.

Your phone is in your hand a moment later, needing a distraction as to not ogle at the pretty green-eyed barista any longer. Your thumb instinctively lands on Instagram, as much as you wish it hadn’t.

A selfie of an old friend from high school.

A photo of someone’s newborn. The third you’d seen this month.

The conventional food flat lay.

You hear the man in front of you make a second order of two dozen bagels for a big meeting tomorrow morning. “Hoping for a promotion,” he says, a clear smile in his voice. You silently wish him the best. With bagels from Coldwell’s, he was bound to make a good impression.

You’ve been coming here since the beginning of your junior year, finding the cozy café to be a home away from home. You’d discovered it after moving out of your dorm, it was an unmistakable upgrade from the campus coffee shop you were forced to visit every morning.

Thick floor to ceiling windows on one wall, exposed brick and a menu on another; coupled with the bulbous string lights, numerous plants hanging from the ceiling and perched on shelves with the occasional vintage record.

There were unspoken sections inside; couches and low tables for group study sessions, a line of comfy booths along the back for brunches and dates, a few tables with mismatched wooden chairs for those who’d rather spend some time alone. It was always clean and well kept, and during Christmas, it smelled of nutmeg.

Depending on which barista had their phone connected to the speakers, the shop was either playing Spotify’s Chill Lofi Study Beats or smooth jazz, both welcomed by the regulars that filtered in day-to-day.

You hear the last drop of the bagel slicer when your phone buzzes faintly. Milo: We should go for breakfast one morning. When are you free? :) That message alone was enough for you to stuff your phone into your bag. Jesus Christ.

You watch the man’s scuffled loafers as he makes his way out, the arm free from two large boxes lifting to wish his barista a good night. Speaking of, he’s got a welcoming grin on his face when you step to the counter. There was no doubt he was recalling your odd entrance.

“Hello.”

His eyes are bright, they remind you of a dewy morning in a garden - and you wish you were in the right state of mind to watch him the way he was watching you. “Hi, um”, your eyes fly up to the menu as if you weren’t sure of exactly what you were getting. “Are you still selling those bottled fruit drinks? I usually get them in the morning.”

“The Pressed ones? Got a few in the back but I’ll grab one for you. What flavor?” You take a second to inwardly scold yourself for focusing too hard on the way he’d flavor, there was no second-guessing on whether he had an accent or not from moments ago.

“Blackberry,” you say, sending a small smile.

He taps at the screen of the POS, his lips tucked into his mouth as you reach into your bag for your wallet.

Not there. No. Not that pocket either.

You frown.

“So, a blackberry Pressed, anything else?”

Your head is nearly inside of your purse as you move your belongings around, cautious of smearing Crayola paint anywhere. “Please, a blueberry um...”, you flip the apron to stick out a bit and allow you more room to see, careful not to squeeze it too hard, “bagel?”

A beat of silence.

“You sure?”

Your head snaps back up to find the barista- Harry, his name tag reads, it suits him -smiling at you, teasing.

You laugh at yourself a bit before buttoning your bag closed. Your wallet was nowhere to be found; which would frighten you if you hadn’t already left it in the classroom twice this week. “Yes-. Yeah, sorry my brain is like, fried from studying.”

“No, yeah totally get it,” he says. Tot-ally.

You find yourself contemplating on whether you should tell him to completely scrap your order or give in and finally figure out how ApplePay works. He scratches at his chin. “Erm.. cream cheese?”

You have some at home. “No, thank you.”

He nods and you take a glance at the tiny hoop earring that catches in the overhead light as he does. You’re just about to resume digging in your bag to check one more time, when he surprises you by saying something that isn’t your total. “What are you majoring in?”

You readjust. “Education. I want to teach 3rd grade.”

“Do you?” His smile is wide and you notice the dimples that sink into his cheeks. Because of course, the guy has dimples.

His genuine happiness takes you by surprise and you laugh. “Yeah, I graduate this year. Well- hopefully. Still have to pass my finals.”

He’s still tapping at the POS- definitely taking much longer than normal, but you don’t mind. Thankfully you had nowhere to be for once.

“M’sure you’ll do great.” You smile, despite the fact that his eyes were still on the screen in front of him. “I um, I graduated just last year,” he looks up to see your eyebrows rise in question. “Film.”

“Film?” you repeat. “I.. Honestly, I can see that.” The earring, the eyes, his style. It made sense.

Tap. Tap. You catch the price going down.

“That because I’m working at a coffee shop?”

“That- What? No, no. I-“

He lets out a boyish giggle and shakes his head. “Only joking. That was a bit of a dig to us film majors, hm?”

“A little. It just makes sense,” you continue. “You look like a film major.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s a compliment,” you say, and his lips twist to fight a smile.

“I’ll take it,” he says, slipping a glove onto his left hand. Your eyes immediately take notice of the cross etched next to his thumb. “Total comes out to $3.21. I’ll go grab your-“

“You didn’t have to do that.” You’ve ordered this countless times, and though Anne let you have your things for free when no one else was around, it’s always come out to $6.78.

Harry only frowns, shaking his head. Don’t worry about it. “I’ll go grab your drink.”

“Sure. Thank you.”

The second he disappeared into the kitchen you’ve seen so little of, you quickly lift your wrist to try and figure out how this stupid watch worked.

You told yourself to test this out at some point, but you just haven’t had the time. The pad of your figure taps and swipes against the tiny screen, nothing screaming pay with me!

Not that app.

Not that one either.

Had you even set it up?

You hear the door smack lightly against the wall. “Alright here’s- oh,” Harry stumbles upon return, eyebrows drawn together. “Did the card not work? There’s a chip at the bottom-“

“No, I was- I left my wallet at work and I’m trying to..” You point at the card reader. “Does this have Apple Pay?”

His eyes flicker between your watch and the reader before nodding. “Yeah, you’ve just got to..” he leans over the counter a bit and his hand hovers over yours. “May I?”

With confirmation, his nimble fingers press lightly into the inside of your wrist, tilting it toward the reader. His touch is soft- he’s excessively gentle despite only adjusting your hand. He moves his thumb to double click a button on the side of your device, the palm of his hand brushing the side of yours.

The both of you look up at one another, eyes meeting in much closer proximity than any time tonight.

You can’t possibly pick up a guy at a coffee shop. Right?

Ding!

You look down at your wrist that’s still in his hold, your tiny screen now displaying a successful checkmark.

He swiftly pulls his hand away, the gloved one quickly grabbing your bagel as the other grabbed a waxed baggie. “Sorry-“

“No, thank you.” You can’t help but let out a clumsy laugh at the moment the two of you just shared. Silly, you think to yourself.

“To go, yeah?”

“Please.”

He smiles, eyes focused on the screen before the printer hums to life and begins to spit out your receipt.

You watch as he works the bagel slicer and toaster without conscious thought, large hand pulling off his glove before taping the flimsy paper to the front of the bag. He’s sliding your items over to you to grab when you speak once more.

“And thank you again, for the discount.”

He only shakes his head, lips turning down into a funny looking frown. “Don’t worry about it, really. Good luck on finals.”

You smile gratefully, managing to hold your juice and bagel in one hand as you make your way back over to the door. “Thank you! Have a good night.”

“Bye, love you—“ He practically chokes on his own spit, turning quickly to cough steadily into the crook of his elbow.

You were halfway out of the door when you heard him, and now you stare, amused as the cold wind nips at the left side of your face. “Love me?”

“I-“ His nose crinkles, and he coughs one last time. “Sorry, I-“ You watch as he visibly relaxes once his focus is back on you and not on trying to breathe correctly.

Your head is tilted to the side, an obvious glint in your eye.

He lets out a breathy laugh before trying to continue. “I don’t-” Your eyebrows rise as he stumbles. “- love you. I just- I say it to friends a lot and I guess it… slipped? I don’t know-“

“I’m teasing.” You call out over the wind that blows through as you push the door open wider. You can’t help but laugh to yourself as you move to leave. “Don’t worry. Bye, Harry.”

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senorarelojes · 3 years

Text

Pizzaverse artwork and ficlet: 'A Little Piece'

@maiyashu made this really cute and beautiful Instagram post of Pizzaverse Dave being silly and drawing little monsters/creatures on the notes he leaves for Alan and their kids around the house. Of course, Alan shows off his husband's work on Instagram. Under the artwork is an accompanying ficlet set in the future for the Pizzaverse timeline. Thank you dear Shu for your gorgeous (and funny) artwork! Happy Father's Day to the boys!

Title: A Little Piece Pairing: Dave/Alan Rating: General Tags: Pizzaverse, Kid Fic, Fluff

Dave was always amused whenever Alan teased him about being the one in their relationship who was more addicted to social media. It seemed they were both on an even keel; Alan posted more often, while Dave had a variety of accounts across various platforms that he’d lost interest in after the initial posting frenzy. They had their different addictions too: Dave liked the spontaneity of Twitter and TikTok, while Alan for some reason preferred Facebook and Reddit. But Instagram was their common vice, and most of their friend circle were on it as well.

Before fatherhood, Dave had imagined that his use of social media would dwindle because he simply wouldn’t have the time. But instead he’d found the opposite to be true: now he wanted to post about Alan, Paris and Stella all the time, and he didn’t even care if no one outside their family and a few chosen friends would find it cute.

Of course, both Dave and Alan took care to obscure the faces of their daughters. But the adorable things they did were up for grabs: Paris’ first steps, then followed by Stella’s in a few years. Their first stuffed toys. Their first drawings. Dave shamelessly spammed his IG feed with various pictures and videos, and refused to feel bad about it because Martin was doing the same with his kids, and so was Fletch, who seemed convinced that his daughter was a maths prodigy.

Of course, Dave posted pictures of Alan on his feed as well. Naturally his husband was usually included if it was a picture or video with one of the girls, such as Alan helping Paris with her homework or feeding Stella at dinnertime. But sometimes Dave saved a few precious shots he’d snuck on his phone, like Alan frowning at the computer in his tiny makeshift home studio, or stealing a rare moment after the girls had gone to bed to listen to one of the many records he owned. Those didn’t get as many likes and comments as anything Dave posted of the girls, but he didn’t care much.

In truth, Dave would have probably gone on like this if Alan hadn’t taken him aside one night and asked him why he’d stopped posting pictures of his art. “My art?” Dave echoed, genuinely surprised that Alan had been keeping track because Dave certainly hadn’t.

“Yeah, your paintings.” Alan gestured towards Dave’s most recent effort, which was a white cat posing regally by a candle. Even that had been painted more than a year ago, before Stella had come into their lives. “You don’t really post them anymore. Or paint much more, for that matter.”

Dave just kept staring at Alan in astonishment. When they had gotten married and subsequently made the decision to become parents via surrogacy, it had been pretty much an unspoken agreement between them that family and work would have higher priority. This meant their hobbies were naturally the first thing to be sacrificed for time, and Dave had been fine with that. They hadn’t touched the band in years, not since the last time everyone had performed at Martin’s wedding.

But now Dave realised that he missed painting with an ache like a phantom limb, like something that had always been a part of him was now oddly missing. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d picked up a paintbrush for the hell of it. Everything he’d designed or illustrated over the past year had solely been for work, and that thought pained him like a spike through his solar plexus.

In contrast, Alan - who had always been very driven and disciplined - seemed to have no problem reviving his interests in mixing and composing after Stella had started sleeping at more regular hours. So Dave didn't even have the excuse of fatherhood.

“You should pick it up again,” Alan told him with a gentle squeeze of his hand, before moving on to the topic of Father’s Day, which was coming up. Dave just nodded distractedly when Alan suggested ordering in brunch from a nice restaurant, still preoccupied with thoughts of Alan’s mind-blowing revelation.

After that conversation with Alan, Dave decided to try and carve out time for painting. Although that wasn’t always possible, he did want to show Alan he was trying, so he started with small gestures. If he left reminders and post-its for Alan around the house, he’d be sure to draw a funny cartoon to accompany his loopy handwriting, like a sentient postbox (to remind Alan to go to the post office) or a funny caricature of Martin and Fletch (to ask Alan if he wanted to have dinner and catch up with them).

Alan never really mentioned the little drawings beyond an amused eye-roll, but Dave knew Alan was never particularly verbose about his true sentiments anyway. Dave had learned to look towards Alan’s actions instead. Sure enough, Alan started taking pictures of Dave’s little drawings and posting them on Instagram with an accompanying dry and witty caption, along with the hashtag ‘#artisthusband’. To Dave’s surprise, it really took off among their friends and other family members, and Dave always had to fend off demands from his mum and Sue about more cute artwork everytime he called home.

Since Paris and Stella loved the drawings too, he started drawing little monsters for them on their paper lunch bags, which he would prepare for them before Alan would drop them off at daycare. It wasn’t long before Alan started posting these on Instagram too, and his comment section would get animated at times because Martin, Fletch, Paul, Daryl and the rest would start discussing which creature Dave had meant to draw. He didn’t have the heart to tell them he’d made them all up on the spot.

Having Alan’s support like this, even for his silly little drawings, was more fulfilling and touching than Dave had expected. So he’d really meant it when he said he was going to get art supplies, but more often than not Dave would get distracted and buy Elsa colouring books for the girls instead. Alan hadn’t said anything at all, but Dave knew how to read him pretty well by now. His husband was definitely planning something.

On the morning of Father’s Day, Dave was the first out of bed so he put in the order at the restaurant before going for a run in Hyde Park. His metabolism wasn’t what it used to be, and he’d gotten into the habit of eating off the girls’ plates whenever they couldn’t finish their food. Alan was a really good cook too, so Dave knew he had to fit in a run today if he was going to be feasting on french toast and eggs benedict for Father’s Day.

When he got home, he thought he spotted Alan in the study with a giggling Paris and Stella. “Hello, my loves,” he yelled out at the door, even more mystified when Alan quickly stepped out of the study with the girls, closing the door hurriedly behind them.

“The food’s just got delivered, I’ll set the table,” Alan told him with a too-bright smile. ‘You go shower first, yeah?”

Dave decided to let his suspicious behaviour go for now. “Alright, sure.” He loped over to where they were, giving Alan a brief kiss and a I’m-on-to-you squint before bending down to stretch his arms out to the girls. “Can I get a hug first?”

“Daddy’s stinky!” Paris protested laughingly, while an uncomprehending Stella just giggled along with her older sister.

Dave’s jaw dropped in mock outrage. “Stinky, am I? How about I make you stinky too, huh?” He pretended to chase a squealing Paris and Stella for a hug, laughing when they ran to hide behind an amused Alan’s legs.

“Just go shower, the food’s getting cold, you lunatic.” Alan shook his head at Dave with a grin before shepherding the girls to the dining area. Dave left him to it, washing up quickly so he could join his family for breakfast.

However, he wasn’t expecting to find Alan and the girls waiting for him outside the bedroom, all of them grinning innocently at him. “What’s going on?” a suspicious Dave asked.

Paris took his hand and tugged him to the study, Alan picking up Stella and following with her in his arms. When Paris pushed open the door, Dave stared in shock at the brand new easel waiting for him, along with the art supplies neatly piled on top of a blank canvas. He stepped forward, picking up the paints and brushes with trembling hands. Alan had gotten everything right, remembered every detail from when Dave used to paint before they’d gotten married and become fathers.

“I had to take a bit out of the holiday budget for this,” came Alan’s soft voice behind him. “But it’s worth it for me to delay our trip. I’d rather see you painting again.”

“We want more of Daddy’s paper monsters!” Paris declared gleefully, while Stella stared at all of them in bafflement.

“I--” Dave just couldn’t speak. His heart was so full, like it was going to overflow with joy and sentiment and his overwhelming love for his family. There were simply no words that could possibly encapsulate the emotions warring within him now, so instead he grabbed Alan and the girls to him in a tight hug, his breaths ragged and his eyes wet.

“Happy Father’s Day,” Alan said quietly, the smile evident in his voice even though Dave couldn’t quite see his face.

“You too, Al.” Dave pulled away to kiss him, then smothered his squealing girls with equal affection.

#dalan #pizzaverse #maiyashu #fanart

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hookedonapirate · 3 years

Text

Book Update

If anyone is wondering when Hard To Handle will be coming out, I have some news! So, for those who don't know, Hard To Handle is an original A Helping Hand rewrite featuring Harper and Owen (Killian and Emma) and will be part 2 of the series. And if you haven't guessed yet, part 1 features Audrey and Brady (Elsa and Liam from A Helping Hand) with a Harper and Brady friendship. For those interested in their story, I have a little treat for you below. However, this Sneak peek doesn't show Audrey and Brady meeting yet because I haven't gotten that far.

This is sort of an enemies to lovers story (I say sort of because their "enemy" status in the beginning is too complicated to slap a label on it) that starts off with Harper and Audrey butting heads with their new neighbor, Brady, and him and Audrey exchanging love hate letters. 😉 Then Brady and Audrey form an alliance and break up Harper and Bryce. I promise it's not evil like it sounds because Brady discovers Bryce is cheating on Harper. Remember, Bryce is the Neal of AHH.

This book is a bit darker than book 2 because of the toxic nature of Harper's relationship with Bryce, and because Audrey often pays the price for his shenanigans, but there's still humor and fun in this one.

Anyway, here are the first few chapters. I may post more if anyone's interested ❤️

Chapter One

Brady

There are strange sounds coming from the unit next door.

Laughter maybe?

Yes, definitely laughter.

More like Cackling. From one—make that two—females.

Two loud, annoying females.

Just great.

I take pride in being a fairly simple man who doesn’t need much to be happy. A few things like fishing, enjoying an ice-cold beer and having a few moments of quiet time usually does the trick. Even the sound the can makes whenever I crack open the pull tab of Coors Light is music to my ears. I finally have time to relax after sweating my ass off from all the unpacking I did. I just moved in today and couldn’t stand the idea of tripping over boxes or searching through them every time I needed to use something. I was unable to stop unpacking until every single item in those boxes had a home.

Now I’m able to sit back in my patio chair, prop my feet up on the plastic stool and breathe in the pleasantly cool evening air, enjoy a refreshing, ice-cold beer and some quiet time.

Or at least I was able to until my air of tranquil serenity was so rudely disturbed by my cackling neighbors.

They could at least close their balcony doors, so the entire building doesn’t have to hear them.

I’m already in a foul mood, and the two laughing hyenas aren’t helping. If anything, my mood is worse than it was when I was packing.

They, however, sound like they’re having a grand old time. Doing what exactly, I’m not sure, but it sounds like one of them needed a break from studying and the other one is encouraging her to get drunk and let loose. Which means they’re college students.

Just fucking perfect.

This is exactly why I moved off campus, even though it meant paying rent and enduring a much longer commute to work.

It’s just my luck to get stuck living next to two loud teenagers or early twenty-something-year-olds. I’m around college students all the time, considering I’m an instructor; I don't need to live next to them, too. I learned that very quickly.

Young adults, my ass. More like impudent children.

I feel like the property management should’ve included that minor detail in the apartment listing. Or that not everyone is required to follow their uniform policies.

A peaceful, friendly community? Ha!

The management will definitely be hearing from me about their false advertising.

“Dude, I’m sorry to tell you this, Harp, but your boyfriend’s a fucking loser! Even Elisa said so!”

“He’s just misunderstood!”

“Misunderstood?! Bryce is such a creep!”

“Is not!”

I take a swig of my beer through gritted teeth. I really wish I had a TV right now.

It won’t be delivered until tomorrow, though. Which is very unfortunate and inconvenient at the moment because I need a distraction from reality. Listening to their conversation makes me furious and sad at the same time because it reminds me of me and my brother arguing about his girlfriend. I kept trying to tell Owen she was no good for him, but he wouldn’t listen. I bet this Bryce guy isn’t married, though.

Or maybe he is; I really don’t know.

I need something to take my mind off the overwhelming urge I feel to hop on a plane, fly to Chicago and kick my brother’s ass for being the fucking moron he is. And let me tell you, the urge is very strong right now. Earlier today, Owen told me the woman he’s been seeing is married. They’ve been dating for six months, during which she was lying to him the entire time. I already didn’t like her very much to begin with because she was a controlling bitch—I’m the only one who’s allowed to be a controlling bitch to my brother—and because ever since he started seeing her, I haven't been able to hang out with him very much. Whenever we made plans, he canceled them because Naomi wanted to spend time with him instead. And he was my best friend. Now he tells me she’s married and that he’s still staying with her.

What the actual fuck?

He’s so brainwashed by her, I couldn’t talk a lick sense into that goddamn head of his. Now he wants me to be okay with them staying together while she’s still with her husband?

Fuck that shit.

“Okay listen, if you’re going to talk shit about my boyfriend, we’re going to need more wine.”

“Agreed.”

It becomes silent next door for a few minutes, which makes me sigh in relief. Soon I hear, “Son of a fucking bitch!”

There’s a litany of curses and then, “We need a new corkscrew!”

“But we’re too drunk to drive anywhere!”

Damn, if only I had a corkscrew so they could drink more wine, get drunker and become even louder and more annoying than they already are.

That’s actually not a bad idea, though. If they’re anything like my ex-girlfriend, the quicker they get drunk, the quicker they’ll be ready to sleep. The quicker I’ll finally have my peace and quiet.

I contemplate driving down to the corner store, but what would I even say if I showed up at their door with a corkscrew they didn’t ask for? Oh, hi, I was eavesdropping on your conversation and took it upon myself to go to the store and buy you this corkscrew so you could both drink yourselves into an alcohol-induced coma and I could finally have some peace and quiet?

Nope, I definitely can’t say that.

Chapter Two

Audrey

“Son of a fucking bitch!”

When I rush into the kitchen to see why my roommate’s cussing up a storm, I’m expecting the counter and floor to be covered in wine and shattered glass, even though I didn’t hear any glass break, but Harper’s just holding the corkscrew and staring at the top of the bottle.

“What’s wrong?”

“We need a new corkscrew!” Harper grabs the bottle of wine and points the top of it at me. The cork is still jammed into the neck of the bottle, and the worm of the corkscrew is stuck inside it.

Which is very unfortunate.

She’s been studying her ass off, except for the occasional interruptions from her asshat of a boyfriend, Bryce. She had a really tough time getting him to finally leave so she could study, and she had to literally push him out the door. So I thought Harper could use a break and I could feel saner again by indulging in some wine. But one bottle of wine quickly turned into two. Or rather, it would’ve if not for the end of the corkscrew inside the cork.

Fuck.

“But we can’t drive anywhere,” I point out, considering how tipsy we both are, even though we only went through one bottle between us. But we’re both lightweights.

“Hold on,” she says, picking up her phone from the counter.

I cock my brow. “You do realize Amazon Prime takes two days to ship, right?”

“Yeah, I know, Aud. I’m not that drunk.” After looking at something on her phone for a minute, she leaves the kitchen, returns with one of her tennis shoes and sets the phone down to pick up the wine bottle. She places the bottom of the bottle inside the heel of the shoe, raises her hands above her head and goes to one of the walls in a striking pose.

I rush over and put my hand on her arm to stop her. “Wait, what are you doing?”

“This will push the cork out.”

“But won’t the wine spill all over?”

“Not if I can only push the cork part of the way out and then pull it off the rest of the way.” She hits the shoe against the wall a few times, but the cork doesn’t budge.

“Why don’t we see if any of the neighbors have a corkscrew,” I suggest. “This method doesn’t seem to be working.”

She sighs and drops her arms. “Who do you think would have one?”

“What about Mandy? She’s a wine drinker.”

Harper shakes her head. “She doesn’t get home from the office until late on Mondays. And there’s no way I’m trying mister grumpy pants across the hall. It always seems like he’ll snap at any moment. Plus, once his dog starts yapping, she never shuts up.”

“What about the new guy who just moved in next door?”

I shake my head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. What if he’s an ax murderer?”

“I saw him earlier when he was moving in. He seems harmless enough, and is kind of cute, actually.”

“Yeah, well so was Ted Bundy. And I’d like to stay alive with my head intact, thank you very much.” I haven’t seen the new neighbor yet, but I don’t think going over to a stranger's place while we’re both a little tipsy is the best idea, for several reasons.

She flicks her hand. “Well, you don’t have to go. I will.” She grabs her keys, removes her pepper spray from the attached chain and throws her keys back on the counter before heading toward the door.

“Harp, wait…”

Ignoring my pleas as I follow behind her, she slips into her Nike slides. “I’ll be fine. I got my handy dandy pepper spray,” she says, holding it up.

Before I can talk some sense into her, she’s already dashing out the door and calling out over her shoulder, “If I’m not back in five minutes, call 911!”

I sigh and lean against the door, pressing my ear against it so I can listen for Harper’s screams or any signs of a struggle.

Chapter Three

Brady

When I head inside from the balcony, there’s a knock on the front door. I scratch my head and stride over to answer it, wondering who it could be. I just moved into this apartment today, so I literally don’t know any of my neighbors yet.

I open the door to a skinny blonde with green eyes, long, shimmering hair and soft pink lips. She’s easy on the eyes, but I have a feeling she’s one of the laughing hyenas next door. She’s not as young as I thought she’d be, though. She looks to be around my brother’s age. When I give her a once-over, I notice the pepper spray she’s trying to hide in her fist.

I wince at the sight of it. She doesn’t even have the safety lock on.

I offer a tight-lipped smile. “Hello.”

“HiI’myournextdoorneighbor,” she mumbles, her words slurred together. She’s a little tipsy and has to lean against the doorframe so she doesn’t fall over.

“How can I help you, next-door neighbor?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the pepper spray. The sight of it brings back too many painful memories. Memories I’d rather keep locked away.

“I was wondering if you had a corkscrew my roommate and I could borrow?”

On the balcony, I wanted to strangle the two neighbors who were interrupting my quiet time, but now I feel very protective. She’s obviously drunk, yet stumbling over to a neighbor she doesn’t even know. I mean, I like to consider myself an overall decent human being, or as I’ve been called before, “one of the good guys,” but this woman doesn’t know that. She knows nothing about me, yet she’s over here asking to borrow a corkscrew. And yes, she’s carrying a weapon, but I doubt she knows how to use it properly, and with how tipsy she is, I doubt she’d even be fast enough to use it.

“I’m sorry, I don’t.”

Her smile fades, but she looks determined, so I’m hoping she doesn’t go knocking on all her neighbors' doors asking for a corkscrew.

“I could buy you one,” I offer, trying to sound as polite as possible. Which is difficult when I’m irritated.

Her eyes widen in surprise. “Really? You’d do that?”

I cross my arms and give her a stern look. “On one condition.”

She nods excitedly. “Of course, anything.”

I’m so glad I’m a nice guy because this woman seems far too trusting, and I’m afraid of what would’ve happened if I were anything less than a decent human being. “I’ll go and get you a corkscrew if you return to your apartment and keep the noise down for the rest of the night. And maybe close your balcony doors so the entire building can’t overhear your childish conversation.”

I’m thinking this is a very reasonable request. I’m willing to leave the comfort of my apartment to get in my car and go to the corner store to get some women I don’t know a corkscrew, and all they have to do is put a cap on the noise.

But the scowl on her face tells me she doesn’t agree. “First of all,” she raises her index finger, “ruu-uuuuuuude!” She raises another finger. “Secondly, my roommate and I aren’t children. We’re having a stressful week and were finally able to relax and drink some wine when the corkscrew broke. But that’s okay, we’ll figure out how to get the cork off ourselves!” She turns on her heels and starts to head toward her apartment, but spins around again and gets in my space, jabbing a finger at my chest. “And thirdly, we weren’t being that loud!”

I clench my jaw as she storms away and slams the door shut after disappearing inside her apartment. I throw my own door shut, huffing in frustration.

Why couldn’t my neighbors all be sweet old ladies?

So much for having a relaxing evening!

I head back to my balcony when there’s another knock on the door.

“Son of bitch,” I curse under my breath as I march over to the door and yank it open. “What, now?” I ask angrily when I see her standing at my door again.

“I need to borrow a dress shoe.”

I furrow my brows, growing more agitated. “A what?”

She sighs as though I’m the one inconveniencing her. “A dress shoe,” she says impatiently. “Surely you’ve been to a wedding or funeral. You must have one.”

“I do, but why do you—” Before I get the chance to answer, she shoves past me and heads toward my bedroom.

I follow her in there and cross my arms over my chest in the doorway as I watch her go to my closet. “What in the ever-loving hell are you doing?”

“I told you, I need to borrow a dress shoe.”

Seriously?!

The audacity of this woman waltzing into my apartment and taking one of my shoes! “That’s funny because I never said you could borrow one.”

“Wow, your closet is super organized,” she comments as she looks around, easily finding one of my brown dress shoes and grabbing it from the shoe rack.

I’m still standing in the bedroom doorway when she tries to get through. I reach for my shoe, but she steps back and aims her pepper spray at me. I instinctively duck out of the line of fire and lunge forward, grabbing the pepper spray from her hand and twisting the safety lock.

“Wait, please don’t kill me! My roommate’s calling 911 if I’m not back in two minutes!” she cries, shielding herself with her hands.

I sigh in exasperation and extend the pepper spray to her. “I’m not trying to murder you, I was trying to get my shoe back.”

She slowly drops her arms and narrows her eyes as she snatches the spray from my hand. “Then why did you take away my weapon?”

I scoff. “It was a reflex so I didn’t get sprayed in the face since I wasn’t actually attacking you. Do you know how many times I’ve been pepper-sprayed in the face?”

“Why, because you’re a rapist?!” she accuses, stepping away from me and aiming her pepper spray at me again, even though the safety is still on. She probably doesn’t even know that, though.

I sigh in exasperation and raise my hands in surrender. “No, because I was in the Marines. Getting pepper-sprayed was part of my training. It taught me how to use my weapons and equipment.”

She lowers the spray, guilt etched in her features. “Oh, sorry. My roommate said you might be another Ted Bundy, and I don’t want to be raped and murdered.”

“Yeah, because breaking into your neighbor’s apartment and stealing their shoe is a good way to prevent that from happening,” I say, my words laden with sarcasm.

“Well, no, but that’s what the pepper spray was for.”

“It won’t do you any good if you don’t use it properly. You need to have a firm grip and use your thumb to activate it so it can’t be taken out of your hand like I just took it out of yours.”

“Thanks for the tip.” She raises the pepper spray at me again and presses the button to activate it. But it’s still disarmed. Once she realizes her mistake, her eyes widen.

I cock my head to the side and plant my hands on my hips. “Really?”

She offers an apologetic smile, then scurries toward me, ducks under my arm and squeezes past me, darting for the front door. “I’ll bring it right back, I promise!”

I let her go and exhale another deep sigh. What could she possibly need my shoe for anyway? To squash a spider or something? Can’t she use her own Goddamn shoe for that?

Right, she probably doesn’t want to get her precious shoe all gross, so she’s using mine instead. Which means my shoe will be returned with spider guts on the bottom.

Just great.

I go to the balcony and curtly grab my beer so I can head inside and not have to hear every goddamn word of their conversation again.

Pound, pound, pound.

What the hell?

It sounds like they’re banging something against the wall.

My shoe, perhaps?

Pound, pound, pound.

Then I hear a loud pop!

“Yessssss!”

They got the cork out.

“Holy shit, you made a mess!”

“Sorry, but at least we can keep drinking!”

“Woohoo!”

I head inside and close the sliding doors, hoping to go to bed and get some rest. But then there’s another knock on the front door.

“Fucking hell,” I groan as I go over to answer it. It’s probably the blonde neighbor with my shoe, but I’m not sure I want it back.

Sure enough, it’s her.

“Thanks for letting me borrow it.” She hands over my shoe with a small smile and heads back to her apartment.

“You didn’t borrow it, you stole it!” I call after her. But she completely ignores me.

“And sorry I tried to spray you...twice!” Before I can respond, she’s already inside her unit.

I bring the shoe to my nose to get a closer whiff of it. I noticed the smell as soon as she handed it to me. “Hey, why does my shoe smell like wine?!”

But I’m talking to the door at this point.

I shake my head and go back inside, trying to decide if I should try to get the smell out or just toss the pair into the trash. For now, I set it aside and go to the bathroom to get ready for bed, hoping my neighbors will down the bottle, get tired and pass out so I can have a quiet evening.

No such luck.

They turn on the music, and I can hear the pounding bass through the wall and also, “Yeeeeesssss, this is my jam!”

The walls are actually shaking.

Why do the other neighbors put up with this! It’s absurd, really.

They should be evicted.

I contemplate calling the police to make a complaint, but this is New York City; the police have better things to do than respond to non-emergency noise complaints. So I return to my bedroom, strip down to my boxers and toss my clothes into the hamper before slipping into bed. I can still hear the noises coming from the unit next door, but thankfully, I’m a patient man. I’m sure they’ll get tired soon and go to bed. Or at least I hope so.

But an hour passes, and the music still doesn’t cease. I groan and roll over on my stomach, pulling the pillow over my head, wishing I had noise-canceling headphones right now. I’m normally against the idea of something that cancels all sounds, because it also cancels sounds that alert danger. Like if a burglar broke into the apartment or there’s an explosion or gunshot. But right now, I’d do anything to get a good night’s sleep. Between arguing with my brother over the phone into the wee hours of the night yesterday and spending all day moving into my new place and unpacking, I’m completely exhausted. Not to mention I always start my day at five in the morning. My classes don’t start until eight a.m., but I like to get an early start to my day. I got up that early when I was in the Marines, and some habits just never die.

I’m about to get up and go down the hall to ask them to turn down the noise, but I’ve already asked her once and she got offended, so I doubt it will do any good.

Chapter Four

Audrey

I’m immediately regretting the two bottles of Barefoot Harper and imbibed last night. My head is pounding, I’m dehydrated, and I have to be at work in an hour. I take some aspirin, drink a full glass of water before jumping into the shower.

When I leave my bedroom, dressed and ready to go, Harper is shuffling out of her room.

“Morning,” she says groggily, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

“Morning, Harp.” I head to the kitchen to make her some coffee. I’m not a coffee drinker myself, I prefer tea, but I know Harper can’t function in the morning without a fresh cup of hot Folgers.

“Why did we drink on a weeknight again?” she groans, taking a seat at the table.

“That’s an excellent question.” I pour water into the pot and place it in the coffeemaker, turning it on.

Harper buries her face in the cradle of her arms on the table as I grab some aspirin and a tall glass, filling it with water. She doesn’t have to work today, but she does have classes. She’s already a registered nurse like me, but she’s going for her master’s degree to open up more job opportunities. And also because she’s an overachiever, when it comes to her career at least. I just wish she were an overachiever when it came to other aspects of her life, like the kind of men she dates. Or maybe Harper was purposefully aiming for Class-A levels of douchebaggery when she started dating Bryce. If that’s the case, then she definitely went above and beyond expectations. And while she is my best friend and roommate, there’s only so much sense I can talk into her. And I'm not willing to let some lowlife scumbag get in between our friendship.

“Here, these will help.”

Harper lifts her head and takes the aspirin and glass. When she pops the pills in her mouth, swallowing them down with a big gulp of water, she already appears to be more human again.

I grab my keys and strap my purse over my shoulder, heading toward the front door.

“Speaking of drinking, are you going to be here Friday night?”

I snort-laugh and turn to look at her, placing my free hand on my hip, knowing exactly where this is going. She’s still recovering from her hangover and already has booze on the brain. “That depends. Is Bryce going to be here?”

When she takes a slow sip of her water, I know what her answer is before she says it out loud. “Well, considering he’s the one who invited a few people over, yes, he’ll be here.”

“Then no, I definitely won’t.” I head for the door, trying to leave again.

“That’s a shame because Bryce has a good-looking friend who thinks you’re gorgeous.”

I spin around, cocking a brow. “Which friend?”

“Treyton. You haven’t met him before, but he saw your pics on Instagram.”

I walk to the table, placing my hands on top of the chair, my key ring dangling from my finger. “How did he find my Instagram account if we’ve never met?”

“Bryce showed it to him.”

What the fuck?

I furrow my brows in confusion. “Okay, why is Bryce showing his friends my Instagram account?”

She smirks. “Because Treyton was asking him if I had any cute, single friends.”

I sigh, not liking the idea of Bryce trying to set his friends up with me. I’ve met some of his guy friends, and neither is one I’d kiss if he were the last man on earth. “Sorry, not interested.”

I remove my hand from the chair and try to leave again.

“Oh, come on, Aud. Give the guy a chance. I mean, I don’t know him that well, but he’s fucking hot.” She picks up her phone from the table and pulls up something before handing it to me across the table. “See for yourself.”

I reluctantly take the device, a heavy sigh leaving my lips. I highly doubt his looks will sway me. Even if is hot, he’s still Bryce’s—

Holy crap.

He’s got those smokey grey eyes, a chiseled jaw and a little smirk on his beautiful face that makes me melt.

Well, fuck.

“So, what do you think?” Harper asks curiously, trying to stifle a smirk as she perches her chin on the back of her joined hands, her elbows resting on the table.

I try not to show how attracted I am to a freaking photo of a guy I’ve never met before, but damn, those eyes are spellbinding, and I’m pretty sure I’m blushing. “Okay, he’s a little cute.”

“A little? Honey, you and I have similar tastes in men, so I know you don’t think he’s just cute.”

“Yeah, that’s true. We usually do, which is why I have no idea how Bryce got your attention. He must have a big dick or something.” I narrow my eyes. “Does he have a big dick? Because that would explain a lot.”

Harper bursts out laughing. “Oh my God, Aud, you know it’s not all about the size! And no, he doesn’t, he’s average, but as much as you hate him, you can’t deny he’s good-looking.”

“Yes, maybe on the outside he’s cute but personality-wise he’s ugly as fuck.”

She sighs in defeat as I hand over her phone. This is just an argument neither of us will ever be able to agree on. Well, until she finally decides to take off those damn rose-colored glasses and sees Bryce as he truly is. But I know it would make Harper happy if I agreed to stay for the party. I know that sometimes she feels out of place considering most of Bryce’s friends are college kids. Normally, she’s the oldest one there, but you could never tell, because she has a baby face and looks at least five years younger than she actually is, so to the other college kids, she's one of them.

“Fine, I’ll be here for the party.”

Harper’s eyes widen in surprise. “Really?”

“Yes, but if any of his friends grab my ass, I’m leaving.”

She laughs. “Okay.”

The coffee machine beeps, so she gets up from her seat, grabs a mug and creamer and pours the steaming, hot liquid into her cup. She returns to her seat and sips her coffee as I once again try to leave. “Thanks for starting the coffee, Aud.”

“No problem. See you tonight.” I unlock the door, and when I pull it open, I notice a folded up crisp piece of copy paper taped to the outside. I cock my brow and peel it off, unfolding it. I’m expecting it to be from the building management.

But then I read the first line...

To the two hoity-toity princesses,

I immediately suspect it’s from mister grumpy pants across the hall, but the letter is in fancy cursive writing. Who even writes in cursive anymore? Maybe an old lady or mister grumpy pants, I suppose. But he normally doesn’t leave letters. He’ll just knock on the door with his cane and chew us out in person. Harper said the first time he knocked on her door to complain about the noise, he made her cry.

When he tries that shit with me, I give it right back to him and threaten to call the cops on his dog and have her taken to the pound. He tends to leave us alone now. So, I’m surprised he’s resorted to leaving us notes.

Can you kindly tone down your loud music and obnoxious woohooing, laughter and overall commotion that kept me up until 2 a.m.? Some people actually have to work on a Tuesday morning. I, myself, wake at 5 a.m. every single day and am now forced to go to work on three hours of sleep. Luckily the students I teach possess much more class and are at maturity levels you both obviously could never achieve if you actually tried. I know neither of you could possibly understand waking up early for a job or getting your hands dirty, as you’re city girls who probably live on mommy and daddy’s income and never worked a day in your lives, but some people actually have responsibilities and obligations, not just classes they can skip whenever they feel like it. So have a little respect and lower the volume a few notches.

This time you get a warning, but if the noise persists, I will be forced to contact law enforcement. Have a lovely day drinking your Starbucks lattes and trying to get rid of what I hope are nasty hangovers.

Sincerely,

The tired and cranky guy from 8C, thanks to his loud, annoying neighbors

P.S. The blonde who took my brown dress shoe owes me a new pair seeing as it now reeks of Pinot Grigio, thank you very much.

My nostrils flare before I even finish reading the letter. The audacity of this asshole! He doesn’t even know us, hell he hasn’t even met me in person, yet he makes all kinds of false assumptions about us.

I know neither of you could possibly understand waking up early for a job or getting your hands dirty.

What the actual fuck?! Harper and I both wake up at the crack of dawn to go to work at the hospital, and we’re constantly on our feet for at least twelve hours. We only work three days a week, but our jobs are emotionally and physically draining; I mostly use the other four days to sleep, recover, clean the apartment and run errands. So, for someone to say we don’t work or ever get our hands dirty is a blow to the gut. We’re nurses for crying out loud! Getting our hands dirty is part of the job!

Another remark of his that irks me: We’re city girls who probably live on mommy and daddy’s income. My parents would actually laugh out loud if they read this comment. They always tell me how independent I am. Hell, I wouldn’t even allow them to pay for my schooling even though they wanted to; I wanted to do it all on my own, so I had two jobs while I went to college. They also weren’t too happy when I took a job in New York, but they told me if anyone could handle herself in a big city, it was me. Not to mention, Harper had it way worse than me, growing up.

But the fact that this douchebag is so ridiculously wrong about us makes me smile a little. It will feel so goddamn good to make him see the error of his ways.

I’m still carrying the letter with me as I go to my bedroom closet and grab my stationary from the top shelf. I take out a sheet of paper and a pen from the box, replace it on the shelf and return to the kitchen. I hate the idea of using my good paper on this asshole, but if I’m going to stoop to his level and leave a note on his door, I might as well do it with class.

“What’s the note about?” Harper asks with furrowed brows. “I paid the rent just in the nick of time.”

“It’s not from management.” I take the pen and paper to the table and start writing out a letter. “It’s from our friendly neighbor in 8C,” I say sarcastically.

Her eyes widen as she reaches for the letter. “What did he say?”

I look up and hand it to her.

When she reads it over, the sleepiness in her eyes morphs into anger. “What the hell?! Who does he think he is? He doesn’t even know us!”

“Exactly.” I look down again at the paper and continue the sentence I was working on.

I can feel her staring at me as I write. “What are you doing?”

“Replying to him,” I say without taking my eyes off the page.

“What, are we in elementary school?”

“According to him, we are.”

“He’s just a douchebag, you can’t take anything he says seriously.”

I almost laugh. Normally she’s the one wanting revenge when someone wrongs her, and I’m the one having to talk her out of it. “Maybe, but this will teach him not to make assumptions about people.”

After I’m finished, I let her read it before I tape it to his door. I head to work with a smile on my face. This should teach him not to be such a dickhead.

Chapter Five

Brady

Dear self-righteous butthole in 8C,

~~~

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e-milieeee · 4 years

Text

four ways to say i love you

Summary: It’s the little things—such as waking up at five in the morning to cook for him or lending her a coat when she’s cold—that mean the world.

Because Marinette loves her partner very, very much, and she’s so lucky that he feels the same.

Notes: I was initially going to do one side of the lovesquare, but all sides are equal and therefore have all four sides in this oneshot :) Post reveal, established relationship. A commissioned piece for @mlbforblm—there’s plenty of talented artists and writers who still have slots, so make sure to commission!

Or read on AO3

Adrien is brushing his teeth when Ladybug comes crashing through his window.

He’s a little later than usual today, still decked in his Ladybug pajamas that he’s so unashamedly proud of. He has tied his bangs back with an elastic band, and it sits like a little tree on top of his head, water still dripping from his face.

“And here I was, thinking you’d be ready to eat breakfast,” she tsks playfully.

He grins back. “Sorry, M’lady. Plagg turned my alarm off.”

His smile is, as usual, contagious and in a way that can’t help but to smile back. Ladybug returns to his room and takes out the box from her bag, where she’d painstakingly prepared breakfast for him at the expense of a shattered bowl and spilled jug of milk. It’s still warm to the touch, thankfully, and her slightly rough landing in his room hadn’t messed it up too much.

Adrien joins her a couple minutes later. He has taken the hair tie out, but his bangs fall softly over his eyes like it does when he’s Chat Noir, and Ladybug wants to run her hands over it so to feel just how soft it is. She refrains herself, though, as they both settle cross-legged on the ground where she has laid their breakfast out.

His mouth drops open. “Wow,” Adrien marvels. “When you said you were going to make a feast, I thought you’d fry an egg or two and slap it between some bread and that would’ve been it. This is… can you describe food as gorgeous? Because this is gorgeous.”

“Just because that’s the only thing you can cook doesn’t mean it’s all I’m capable of,” she sniffs, but underneath, Ladybug preens at the compliment.

It’d taken a lot of effort, and Ladybug had collected the ingredients the day before and planned every single detail before going to bed. Then, at five in the morning, she dragged herself out of bed looking and feeling like a zombie just to prepare it.

There are four egg rolls drizzled with homemade sauce, then sprinkled with dried seaweed and sesame. Next to that are neat cuts of green onion cake, made from absolute scratch (she burned herself in the process of deep-frying them). Inside the longest container are fried fish, the ones her mother had prepared the night before. Finally, the leftover mooncakes from the Lunar Festival are in the little box, tied with a red bow. Marinette had spent careful care on that one.

“Miso soup,” Ladybug tells him as she hands him the thermos. “Uh… I think I added too much paste and it’s too salty, so you might not want to drink that one. And…” She opens the last box, where a variety of fresh-cut fruit awaits. “For health reasons, there are fruits. Oh! Also a cheese platter for Plagg, but he’s still asleep, so he can have it later.”

Adrien is positively beaming when she unpacks everything. “You’re the absolute best,” he gushes.

“Couldn’t have you starving on your diet, right?” The nonchalant act can only go so far when she’s grinning so wide. “I’m just hoping it tastes as good as it looks.”

“It’ll taste good just because you made it.” He throws her an exaggerated wink, then immediately reaches for his chopsticks to dig in.

Ladybug watches him take a bite out of green onion cake. He chews, swallows, eyes lighting up. “This is amazing, and I promise I’m not just saying that because my diet’s forced me to eat boiled chicken breasts with no seasoning of the past week.”

She giggles. “Just let me know when you want me to bring you breakfast.”

He places a hand on his chest. “I can’t believe Ladybug’s my personal delivery girl. Do you offer lunch services as well?”

“Only for you, kitty.”

His grin is worth getting up for at 5am.

***

Marinette is freezing at lunch break, but they’ve agreed to eat outside, so she sucks it up. At least the lunch she’d packed for her and Adrien is warm.

It’s late autumn now, and the last couple of leaves cling to otherwise bare trees. She regrets the outfit she picked—cute, but not practical. Especially not in this weather. Looking at Alya bundled up in a hoodie and combat boots, Marinette really regrets the dress.

The noodles in the thermoses are slightly soggy, but the flavour is still there. They chat for a while—about upcoming tests, about projects and the end-of-the-year field trip that is still months away, and everything is lovely. Lovely, but cold.

Halfway through, her noodles emptied, Adrien notices her shivering. “Are you cold?” he asks, eyes growing wide in concern.

Alya halts her conversation with Nino as well. “Wait, Adrien’s right, you’re wearing a dress. I’m chilly and I have a sweater on.”

Marinette, who has refrained from speaking for the past couple of minutes in fear of her teeth chattering too loudly, manages to shake her head.

She gets a scrutinizing look-over by Adrien before he makes his verdict. “This isn’t going to do,” he declares firmly. Then, with one fluid movement, he shrugs his own sweater off and drapes it over her shoulders.

“Oh, he’s smooth,” Alya remarks with a wicked grin.

Smooth, indeed. The jacket is wonderfully warm, and, with a content sigh, Marinette slides her arms through the sleeves. There’s also the faint smell of his cologne and it’s so very him that she can’t help the smile that crosses her face.

He opens an arm in a beckoning gesture and Marinette happily settles into his embrace.

***

Because of his father’s strict rules, it’s much easier for Adrien to come by as Chat Noir after school, which he does almost everyday. Sometimes it’s between his schedules, sometimes it’s after, late into the night when both his father and Nathalie believe he’s asleep. Marinette always listens for the thump on the skylight, an indication that he’s there. The trap door is always left unlocked for him, so she only needs to wait as he climbs down the ladder.

It’s nearing nine when he comes this time. She sits at her desk finishing up the rest of the notes when the door creaks open and Chat Noir climbs down.

“Evening,” he greets. “What—ooh, you brought croissants for me.”

He zeroes in immediately on the food that Marinette had, admittedly, prepared for him. Between Adrien’s schedule and that godawful diet his father insisted putting him on and his time sprinting across rooftops and fighting akumas, it’s a miracle that he hasn’t fainted from lack of nutrition. Marinette has made it her personal goal to make sure he’s properly fed, and she ensures there’s a snack waiting for him every time he drops by.

Half a minute later, he’s munching enthusiastically on the food and Marinette can no longer focus on the rest of her notes. She sorts them out—there’s at least four pages that she’d copied in her neatest handwriting—and then hands them to Chat.

“Here,” she tells him. “You missed both physics and mathematics today because of the photoshoot, so I copied the notes from class and re-organized them. I also added a review section from last class so it’s easier to figure out just where we are since the two lessons are connected. And…” She shuffles through her desk once more, producing the textbook. “It’s on page one hundred and twenty seven to one hundred and twenty nine, if my notes don’t make sense. You can study here, if you’d like. My parents won’t be coming back up anyway, so we should be left alone for now.”

The last time her mother had walked in on her and Chat doing homework together, she’d been understanding. Understanding, but skeptical. It had been awfully hard to explain why Paris’ superhero was lounging in her room like he lived there—and much harder more awkward to explain that Adrien was one hundred supportive of her friendship with Chat after her father had become defensive that he had ulterior motives.

Chat takes the papers from her. “You’re absolutely unbelievable,” he tells her, eyes shining in a way only his can. “Seriously, Marinette, have I ever told you?”

She pretends to count on her fingers. “Let’s see… only about six times today. Why? He shakes his head, a grin pulling at the corner of his lips. In one fluid movement, he leans down to pluck the textbook from her hands and plants a quick kiss against her cheek in the process. “What would I do without you?”

“Go hungry, probably? Start lagging behind in all of your classes?” Marinette tsks at him. “God, you’re right. What would you do without me?”

Chat’s laugh is wonderful and full and happy. “Then aren’t I lucky to have you.”

***

The akuma strikes at midnight.

Marinette, about to change into her pajamas after just sending off Chat Noir, curses to herself. She’s tired and not in the mood to transform, but when Chat comes crashing back down from the skylight urgently, she knows she has no choice.

“Akuma!” he informs her, as if the tremors outside could be caused by anything else. “It’s close to here. We should be able to take this one quickly.”

“Why is Hawkmoth even awake?” Marinette grumbles, but transforms nonetheless. Chat waits patiently on the side, though he’s drawn taut, prepared to scramble into action the moment she’s ready. Then they’re climbing out of the skylight, into the light, where the akuma has begun its rampage. The once-quiet night is ripped apart with panic and terror.

The akuma is relatively easy to deal with: a little girl, apparently inspired by Frozen, is decked in full Elsa, wielding similar powers. She covers the streets in ice, a snowstorm whirling around her, as spirals of icy sculptures rise and fall.

Both she and Chat have icicles hanging off them by the time Ladybug purifies the akuma. Even after she releases the Miraculous Ladybug, the cold from the girl’s powers haven’t seeped out of her bones. Judging from Chat’s chattering teeth, he feels the same.

Despite her watch reading 12:32 and the next day hailing as a school day , they stop by at a 24-hour-cafe for hot chocolate. A couple minutes later, seated on the rooftops warming their chilled hands, they’re huddled against each other and staring out at the gleaming cityscape.

“Another successful take-down, m’lady?”

Ladybug laughs as he raises his cup for a toast, and she obliges and bumps her own against him. Hot chocolate sloshes over the lid, splashing onto her suit. She flicks it off. “What a team we make, huh? Now, if only Hawkmoth would get the memo and stop creating his akumas so late. Why is he even up now? Say, do you think he has a life outside of being Hawkmoth?”

“He probably wants to catch us off guard in the middle of the night. Remember that one time we got woken up at three because there was an akuma attack? Plagg wanted to tape my mouth shut so I couldn’t transform.”

Ladybug groans. “I did really bad on a test the next day because I got three and a half hours of sleep—I fell asleep halfway through the test! It’s— ugh. He’s so annoying.”

“There’s one good thing about midnight akumas, though,” Chat points out.

She takes a sip from the hot chocolate, which, during their conversation, has cooled down to just below scalding. “A good thing?” Ladybug echoes. “Name one good thing, chaton.”

He nudges her shoulder. “You, m’lady. It’s nice just being alone like this without anyone else, right?”

Then, like he’s said nothing out of the ordinary, Chat goes back to drinking his hot chocolate with infuriating nonchalance.

Ladybug finds herself smiling. “You know,” she tells Chat Noir. “You’re ridiculously good at this. Where do you even get the inspiration to say these things?”

“You.”

“You are completely overdoing it.”

“You love me, admit that.”

“No.”

“So you would get up at five in the morning to make breakfast for just anyone, Bugaboo?”

Ladybug relents. “Okay, maybe a little.”

Chat Noir’s laugh rings crystal clear throughout the night, loud against the crisp air. Ladybug wants to trap that laugh and hold it close to herself. She can’t help but treasure it, after all: it’s a sound that chases away worries, soothes fears, and she thinks she's so, so lucky to hear it everyday.

“I love you,” he tells her when his laughter dies down. “Don’t forget that, m’lady.”

Ladybug leans her head on her shoulder. “I love you too,” she replies quietly. “You better not forget it, either.”

Notes: Here’s my fics masterlist!

#miraculous ladybug #ladybug #chat noir #adrien agreste #marinette #marichat #ladrien #ladynoir #adrinette #fluff #post reveal #established relationship #mlbforblm #my writing #mlb fic

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greatqueenanna · 3 years

Text

Talking about the differences between Frozen and Frozen on Broadway

The Broadway Musical version of Frozen was always, not only a source of more Frozen content, but also a source of more detail into the Frozen universe as a whole. While is delves into a more soft canon, as it’s meant to be a mature remake of sorts, it does offer some interesting insights into the world and gives more detail about the character’s motivations.

Here, after I *finally* had the chance to watch the show, I will be comparing the major differences in the plot. I will lightly retell the events of both stories, giving an idea of how each is structured. Towards the end, I’ll give my thoughts on what changes I liked and didn’t like. Let me know your own thoughts and opinions on the changes, and let me know if I missed something important.

The Accident

Film: The film starts with Frozen Heart, where Ice Harvesters are foretelling the events in the film. Then, Elsa hits Anna in the ball room while she is trying to stop her from jumping off a snow hill. Agnarr is the one with knowledge on what to do, looking up the location of the Trolls. The family go to the Valley of the Hidden Rock, where Grand Pabbie erases Anna’s memories. He then warns her that her magic is beautiful but dangerous, and that fear will be her enemy. During this time, Kristoff is there watching the entire scene go down and gets adopted by Bulda.

Broadway: Frozen Heart is removed, and replaced with Let the Sun Shine On, giving us insight into the royal family. Then, we hear another song as Elsa and Anna are playing with each other, A Little Bit of You. Later, Elsa hits Anna in their bedroom when she accidentally gets in the way of one of Elsa’s magic blasts. Their parents come into their room, and it is Iduna who has knowledge about the Trolls, who are called the Hidden Folk in this version. She issues a call, similar to that of the siren in Frozen 2, to call the Hidden Folk to the bedroom through the window. Grand Pabbie erases Anna’s memories, but then Elsa asks him to erase her powers as well. He tells her that this isn’t possible, and that fear will be her enemy.

The Parent’s Deaths

Film: Agnarr and Iduna leave (for Ahtohallan) when Elsa is 18, and Anna is 15. It is implies that Elsa ruled Arendelle from this point, until Elsa officially became queen at 21. Anna sings the last verse of Do You Want to Build a Snowman in the perspective of a grieving sister, seeking Elsa’s companionship. Elsa is on the other side of the door, grieving as well with her powers out of control.

Broadway: Agnarr and Iduna leave when Elsa and Anna are still around the same age as when the accident happens. Elsa doesn’t rule at all, since she’s a child, and is instead guided by a regent. Anna sings the last verse of Do You Want to Build a Snowman with different lyrics, implied to be the the day before the coronation. Elsa is again on the other side of the door, but her unleashed powers are for her anxiety for the coronation.

The Coronation

Film: We briefly see an adult Kristoff buying carrots for Sven, and then we are also introduced to the Duke of Weselton talking about exploiting Arendelle for riches. Then, Anna wakes up and dresses herself, running around the castle until she runs into Hans. Hans and Anna have a short interaction, fumbling around in a boat, before she returns to the castle. During this time, Elsa is trying to practice for the coronation, already dressed in her coronation outfit. We then go the the church scene where Elsa almost reveals her powers. A lot of her reactions and emotions are told by her facial expressions and subtle actions. We then go to the introduction of the party scene, where Elsa is seen happy and relieved.

Broadway: We immediately begin with Anna waking up, this time being helped to get dressed by servants, a change also reflected in a lyric change for For the First Time in Forever. The scene has Anna running through the castle as well, but she has more interactions with servants and other guests. Elsa is not dressed in her coronation outfit when we see her, instead in a blue dress. Anna runs into Hans again, but the scene includes a song called Prince Hans of the Southern Isles and has a bit more sexual tension related comedy. This is also where we first meet Kristoff, as Anna and Hans fall into his cart instead of the boat. Later, during the Church scene and extending into the beginning of the party scene, Elsa actually has an inner monologue song to express her emotions instead, called Dangerous to Dream.

Climb to the Mountain

Film: As soon as Elsa leaves, she arrives on the top of the North Mountain that same night and sings Let it Go. Anna follows her but gets lost, traveling around for around a day before reaching Wandering Oaken’s Trading Post. This is where she first meets Kristoff, and then buys her new traveling outfit before bribing Kristoff to take her up the mountain, where he briefly sings Reindeers are Better than People. Later on, after traveling and being attacked by wolves, they group meets Olaf, who sings In Summer. We later see an update of what is happening in Arendelle, with Hans arguing with the duke before seeing Anna;s horse and deciding to go after her.

Thus, the order of events are as follows -

Elsa runs, as Anna decides to go after her.

Elsa reaches the North Mountain and sings Let it Go.

Anna travels around, reaching Oaken’s.

Anna meets Kristoff.

Anna and Kristoff argue about love.

They meet Olaf.

We get an update on Hans in Arendelle.

Broadway: There are a few major changes in the order of all of these scenes. Elsa is shown leaving, but actually doesn’t reach the North Mountain until around the second night of traveling, singing Let it Go as a closer for Act 1. Anna meets Kristoff (in which they have a duet What do you Know About Love and is given her own ice harvester outfit) and Olaf (who sings In Summer) before reaching Wandering Oaken’s Trading Post in Act II, where we hear another song called Hygge. This is when Anna purchases her iconic traveling outfit. We then see the update in Arendelle, with Hans arguing with the duke, however the citizens of Arendelle intervene and start to sing Prince Hans of the Southern Isles Reprise. He then sees Anna’s horse and then decides to go after her.

Thus, the order of events are as follows -

Elsa runs, as Anna decides to go after her.

Anna meets Kristoff.

Anna and Kristoff argue about love in song form.

They meet Olaf.

We get an update on Hans in Arendelle.

Elsa reaches the North Mountain and sings Let it Go.

Act II begins with them reaching Oaken’s.

*Note* In the ‘traveling’ versions of the Broadway musical, Hygge is sung before Prince Hans of the Southern Isles Reprise, and is not used as an opener for Act II.

Confrontations and Trolls

Film: Anna and the gang reach the Ice palace, where Anna talks to Elsa and the two sing For the First Time in Forever Reprise. The conversation eventually leads to Anna being accidentally struck by ice magic, where Elsa then summons Marshmallow to kick them out. The gang realize Anna’s predicament, and go to the Trolls to figure out what to do. The song Fixer Upper is sang, and then Pabbie tells them about an the act of true love. Later, during the Siege, Hans fights Marshmallow and eventually reaches Elsa fighting with the duke’s guards, eventually causing the chandelier to fall on her. He returns her to Arendelle, where they talk to each other. Then, Kristoff reaches Arendelle and delivers Anna.

Broadway: Again, some scenes are miked around in this version. Anna and the gang reach the Ice palace, where Anna talks to Elsa and the two sing For the First Time in Forever Reprise. The conversation eventually leads to Anna being struck by ice magic, however Marshmallow is not in this version as Anna is dragged out by Kristoff. The gang realize Anna’s predicament, and go to the Hidden Folk to figure out what to do. The song Fixer Upper is sang, and then Pabbie tells them about an the act of true love. Then, Kristoff reaches Arendelle and delivers Anna. Here, Kristoff sings a solo Reprise of What do you Know About Love, called Kristoff Lullaby. Later, during the Siege, Elsa sings Monster, now wearing pants, as Hans and the guards try to find her. He eventually finds her, but convinces her to go back without throwing a chandelier on her. they return her to Arendelle, where they talk to each other.

*Note* In the ‘traveling’ versions of the Broadway musical, For the First Time in Forever Reprise is replaced by a new song called I Can’t Lose You. This song is similar to FTFTIFR, but goes into more details on Anna and Elsa’s feelings about each other, their desires for their relationship, and their fears of losing one another.

The Ending

Film: Anna tells Hans about her situation, in which he turns and betrays her. He then announces to the dignitaries that he is charging Elsa with treason, and sentences her to death. Olaf arrives and tries to help Anna get to Kristoff, eventually leading to her seeing Hans try to kill Elsa. Anna sacrifices herself, leading to the act of true love and the great thaw. Vuelie is played in the background while Elsa thaws everything. Olaf is then stopped from melting by Elsa, Then, possibly a few days later, Anna and the gang are seen happily enjoying their new lives. No more songs are sung during the ending.

Broadway: Anna tells Hans about her situation, in which he turns and betrays her. Anna sings a song called True Love where she reflects on her choices and thoughts. Olaf arrives and tries to help Anna get to Kristoff, where she hears Hans announce that he is charging Elsa with treason. This scenes follow similarly to how they play out in the film, but is performed with a song called Colder by the Minute. Then Anna sacrifices herself, leading the the act of true love. Then, Olaf sings When Everything Falls Apart, as he is melting before Elsa saves him. Elsa then thaws everything, which is done with performance of a finale song, a Reprise of Let it Go.

*Note* When Everything Falls Apart is placed differently depending on the show. Sometimes, it’s after Finale/Let it go, and others its not present at all.

*Note #2* Hans and Anna actually kiss in the Broadway version before the betrayal scene. They kiss after Love is an Open Door, which is dragged out for comedic purposes.

My Thoughts

~ Changes I Liked ~

I liked how they incorporated Iduna more in the beginning. I feel it balances the parent’s roles a bit better. However, given that the creators did not have the ideas for Frozen 2 while writing Frozen, it makes sense that they did not include anything about Iduna’s heritage yet.

I loved the inclusions of Dangerous to Dream and Monster. One of the criticisms of Frozen was how Elsa did not have enough screen time, and these songs really add to her character and clear up some of her thoughts and positions on different elements; like how she feels about Anna and having a more active role in wanting to stop the winter.

I really enjoyed actually having songs after Fixer Upper. Frozen ending it’s soundtrack so abruptly was always jarring in the film, and I think having songs like True Love and Finale/Let it Go really helps make the story feel complete and could’ve benefited the original film.

The Kristoff centered songs, What do You Know About Love and Kristoff Lullaby were welcome additions. While I feel that the film reflects very well about Kristoff’s feelings for Anna and a song like Kristoff Lullaby wasn’t really necessary, a song like What do You Know About Love would’ve really benefited the film. It would have not only given Kristoff a more proper song, but also help better set up Kristoff and Anna’s relationship.

HYGGE HYGGE HYGGE HYGGE HYGGE - HYGGE HYGGE HYGGE HYGGE HYGGE - HYGGALY HYGGALY HYGGALY HYGGALY HYGGALY - I’m obsessed with this song, it’s the most hilarious thing I’ve ever heard haha.

I liked seeing A Little Bit of You for young Anna and Elsa. I would’ve loved in the film if we saw more time with them together, but I understand that given all the elements they had to cover and the limited time, they couldn’t fit too much in the childhood days.

~ Changes I Didn’t Like ~

The age change of the girls when the parents died was strange to me and how they changed Do You Want to Build a Snowman was jarring. I feel it lessens to impact of the song.

I wasn’t a big fan of the song Prince Hans of the Southern Isles. I don’t think the song is very memorable and I would’ve wanted Hans to have a more interesting song to be honest.

When Everything Falls Apart is a really ugly song in my opinion. It’s honestly the only Frozen song that I just really don’t like. I’m glad in some versions this song vanishes haha.

I feel the sudden change from For the First Time in Forever Reprise to I Can’t Lose You is a bit unnecessary. Not that I Can’t Lose You is a bad song - it’s a gorgeous song - I just feel like that For the First Time in Forever is fine and continues the idea of mirroring the songs from Act I into Act II that we see.

Making Hans and Anna kiss after Love is an Open Door lessens the impact of the betrayal scene in my opinion. In fact, a lot of the sexual humor between them was unnecessary. I understand it - it’s to help make the comedy more mature and show that Anna’s attraction to Hans is more physical than romantic. But I feel it wasn’t executed all that well.

Changing the Trolls was also unnecessary. I can see how they wanted to make the Trolls more mature, but just make their designs less cartoonish, not completely change them into a different creature entirely.

I prefer Frozen Heart to Let the Sun Shine On. Both songs are great, and I know that Let the Sun Shine On is a better Broadway opener, but I like the more mysterious elements of Frozen Heart.

#frozen broadway #frozen on broadway #Frozen #greatqueenanna/analysis

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punkpoemprose · 3 years

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A Convenient Arrangement Part 8

Universe: Canonverse Arranged Marriage AU Rating:T Length: 5547 Words A/N: They talk about the Hans thing. Prepare yourselves for feelings!

My plans for the new year are to finish some fics so you can start expecting at least one chapter per week of one of my current WIPs. It might be a different fic each week, it may be the same fic for a while and then change, or what have you. I’m playing it by ear at this point! Hope you enjoy this chapter! Know there is fluff to come!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7]

Dinner had been informative to say the least. Elsa had introduced herself in a more personal capacity, informing him that he may call her by just her first name so long as they were in private. After a short bout of questioning him about his life before the wedding, asking about how he’d come to be under the protection of the trolls, and what ice harvesting was like, she’d seemed content in the knowledge that he had no intentions of hurting Anna or anyone else for that matter.

For his honesty, he’d been rewarded with the assurance that while she couldn’t promise him an open-door policy, she had seen enough of his interactions with her sister to want to assist him in his acclimation to life in the castle if possible. She’d also commented on her own discomfort in her role, which was more comforting to Kristoff than anything else she could have said.

If the Queen isn’t comfortable being royal, I suppose I’m allowed a pass.

Anna had held his hand under the table throughout dinner, her fingers twined with his in a now familiar way. She’d encouraged him and her sister to share throughout the conversation with touch and looks and quiet comments despite still appearing quite pale. He knew that they’d need to speak about that later even when he’d been sitting at her side. He wouldn’t press her for details, but he had a feeling she needed to share them.

In the quieter moments as they dined, he’d found that there was a kinship he could find in the Queen. She was quiet, shy, content to listen to others speak before offering her own words. He could appreciate that.

Anna had spoken during the meal, tentatively, of her sister’s preference to be alone, and he could see the hurt in both women’s eyes when they spoke of it. That too, he could understand. He’d never been a people person, and he’d spent much of his life independently, just spending time with family from time to time and his fellow harvesters when he needed to do so for work.

Elsa seemed to him to be introverted, protective, and anxious.

I can deal with that.

They had the same goal after all.

They wanted Anna happy and safe.

The knock wasn’t a surprise to him, or at least it wasn’t as much as it might have been a few days before. On their wedding night he’d never imagined that they would continue to spend their evenings together. A friendship was something that they’d both wanted to build, but he already knew that the path they were on was going to lead to more than friendship.

He’d never wanted that before, but with Anna, his wife, he imagined a life and a true marriage beyond one in name alone. They’d been together for less than a week and he was already feeling comfortable at her side, and more surprising to him, he had the distinct impression that she was comfortable at his.

“You can come in.”

No sooner did he say the words than Anna entered the room in her nightgown. This one was different than the last he’d seen her in. It was a soft green color, and while it wasn’t as revealing as her chemise, there was something about it that had him flushing. Maybe it had less to do with the garment and more to do with the intentional way she was wearing her nightwear into his space, not out of necessity, but out of desire for his company.

“Hi.”

It was a quiet sound, an uncertain one, and he understood. They’d only slept separately once, but of the evenings they’d shared a bed, the first had been an accident he wasn’t even certain she knew of, and the other had been out of necessity. Her entering his room now, at the time they were both preparing to lay down for the night, showed an unwillingness to spend the night alone.

“Hey.”

He didn’t know what else to say. He was too busy staring at her, memorizing the way her wavy hair hung loose around her shoulders, the way her flush carried across her cheeks and how she was pressing her lips together in a sort of nervous smile. Her hands were at her side, clenching, opening, moving slightly, like she wasn’t sure what to do with them. He couldn’t help but grin when she let her shoulders relax and waved of all things.

So he waved back, and stepped back into the room a bit more, beckoning her in. It wasn’t a wholly organic thing for him, to invite her into the room like it truly was his space. It didn’t feel like it, not like his cabin had.

She stepped in, the trepidation evident in the slow way she stepped forward. He was simply glad that he’d already dressed in his night clothes, one of the few things that they’d managed to find in his size in the markets. He’d soon have to meet with a tailor, and while he wasn’t exactly looking forward to having a bunch of overly formal articles of clothing fitted and sewn for him, he had to admit that the clothes he’d brought back with him we’re exactly proper when compared to what Anna wore each day. Even her simplest clothes seemed to be ornately embroidered.

“I… I don’t know what I…”

She sighed, then started again, “Sorry to interrupt you. I just, I don’t know. I thought that you might?”

She gestured toward the bed, and then flushed. He thought that she looked a bit comical, holding back when it was obvious to him what she wanted.

“I mean, not like that. Not yet. I just thought… You know, we could talk, and then maybe I’d stay. Like at the cabin.”

“I’d like that.”

It was so simple to say, and it was the truth. He very much liked the idea of her staying the night with him. He’d been surprised how easy it was for him to sleep with her at his side before, how right it had felt to hold her in the night. He’d surprised himself by not wanting to leave the bed in the morning even after he was sure that she was awake, so that she wanted to stay with him again, sharing the space, was a comfort.

She feels it too.

***

Anna was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, laying a foot away from his side in his bed, their fingers interlaced and resting above the blankets between them. He’d welcomed her into his room, into his bed, and with no expectation beyond conversation and a good night’s sleep. She’d only wanted that as well of course, but when she was faced again with him without a shirt, she felt a bit warm all over.

Stop thinking about more. You’ll just hurt yourself.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, squeezing his hand lightly, “For not asking me any questions during dinner. I’m sure you have plenty.”

She stared up at the ceiling, doing her best not to look at him lest she let her eyes wander across his chest. He had the blanket rolled down to his waist, and it would be too easy for her to sit up a bit and let her gaze cross his chest, down to the soft but strong planes of his stomach, and to the waist of his night trousers. Their relationship was too young for her to allow herself what lay below. They’d only known each other briefly.

She also couldn’t look at him while she brought up Hans again, even subtly. She was terrified to see pity in his eyes, or worse, disgust. Now that her sister had given him a better sense of the reason for their marriage, she was terrified that he’d not want her.

You’re flighty. You’re ditzy. You want love so bad you’ll take the first man who looks at you. If only there was someone who loved you.

“I do,” he replied simply, “But I won’t ask anything of you. You’ll tell me in your own time.”

“And what if that time never comes?”

What man would want a woman who won’t tell him her history? What man would want a woman who wouldn’t sleep with him on their wedding night?

“Then I’ll have to be content with that. I think I am content with that. If you never tell me it’s more my fault than yours, because it would mean I hadn’t given you cause enough to trust me with it.”

She rolled to the side and found him looking at her. She’d felt his eyes on her, and she saw now that there was no pleading, no pity, in them, only interest and something like love. Warmth was what she’d been calling it. Maybe even “like” in her more optimistic moments because he couldn’t possibly love her yet.

Unless he is. Unless he’s falling in love.

“How can you be so…”

She wasn’t sure of the word for it. His innate trust of her, his faith that she’d answer his questions in due time, his ability to open himself to her because of her interest in him despite her own inability to do the same. There wasn’t a word for it. It was more than supportive, more than caring, more than trusting.

He gave her hand a squeeze and looked her in the eye.

“Because I respect you, and this… you and me… it’s making me start to believe my family’s right. It’s making me believe fate might be real.”

She couldn’t breathe.

Fate.

She wasn’t used to having hope. She wasn’t used to having her feelings returned or having anyone else believe in her. She wasn’t used to being wanted. She wasn’t used to Kristoff.

I want to be.

Laying at his side it was so easy to imagine a life. It was easy to imagine a day where they’d be intimate, a day where they’d have no secrets, maybe even a day where they’d have a little family together. It was easy to believe in it because he believed in her, even when she was too afraid to ever believe in anything again.

“It’s okay,” he said quietly, “I know it’s a lot to take in. The fate thing with my family, and Elsa telling me things you probably didn’t want me to know yet. It doesn’t change anything for me, just so you know. I liked you before, I wanted us to become friends. If there’s more now… I’d like that too, but Anna I don’t think anything would change the way I think about you.”

She didn’t even realize she was crying, until he started telling her that it was okay, until she felt his thumb rubbing across the top of her hand gently. It took her a moment to stop, to wipe the tears away with the side of the hand that wasn’t holding his. It felt foolish to cry, and she felt like she hadn’t shed so many tears since her parents died.

She’d been strong through everything since, through Hans and the lies and her almost death, through the wedding. But then, once she’d had him, it was like a switch was flipped, like it was okay to cry again. She wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad.

“I’ve been crying around you a lot,” she said quietly, focusing on getting the sound out as she took measured breaths, “I don’t want you to think this… that you… I’m still happy Kristoff. I’m so happy that it’s you. I just…”

She didn’t want to tell him everything. She didn’t want to tell him that Hans had been so easy to trust, that she was scared of letting Kristoff in totally because while she already knew he wouldn’t hurt her, there were parts of her that were less confident in any of her decisions. Even the ones that felt logical.

It’s not you, it’s me.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me Anna. Not tonight, not until you’re ready.”

“What if I were ready?”

“Then I would listen.”

She had a thought. A mad one that no one would possibly ever understand or consent to unless they truly thought that she was worth the strangeness.

“What if I wanted to pretend… just for a minute… that you already knew so it wouldn’t be so strange to talk about. What if we pretended that you knew before we were married and that it didn’t change anything? What if we had been married by choice instead of… instead of this?”

He gave her a soft look for a moment, like he was confused but didn’t want to tell her that he was. She could understand that, that she hadn’t explained it very well and that he wanted to be supportive. She thought that he might let her down gently or find a way to let her know he didn’t understand. But then he smiled.

“I don’t think that would be too difficult. You’ve already met my family. You’ve seen my home… that’s something I’d only do for someone I wanted in my life. I think if we’d planned this, if it had been something where we’d had a little more time, I would have introduced you to them before the wedding.”

That was a nice thought, that he would have wanted to introduce her to the trolls, that it might have all gone differently. She thought about what it might have been like if he’d warned her ahead, brought her there slowly and with more trust between them. She liked to think that she would have asked them more about him, how they came across him, what he was like as a child instead of focusing only on her own forgotten childhood memories. There would have been that too, of course, but then she would have been more prepared, they would have known more of her, the process might have been slower and more comfortable. She imagined the troll he called his mother telling her about Kristoff as a child, all the little stories of him playing and growing and learning.

She would have liked that.

Maybe I’ll get a chance.

“If you think so…then we could talk about it. We could talk about all of it, because you’d already know the story, and I wouldn’t have to be afraid you’d change your opinion of me, because you would have married me for…”

“Love.”

That he’d said it had her heart racing.

She had to look away from him, she had to breathe deeply and focus on slowing the pounding in her chest. It would be so easy to trust him with it all. It would be so easy to tell him.

“Can we?” she asked, her voice so small she could barely hear it, “Can we pretend?”

“I want to if you do Anna… but if we’re going to do that…” there was an edge to his voice, something vulnerable that did little to calm the racing of Anna’s heart, “Then I need you to know something.”

“Okay.”

She said it, but she felt anything but okay, even with his hand in hers. They’d been vulnerable with each other plenty in the past few days, but the idea of letting him into her recent past, letting him know her dirtiest laundry and having to hope that the odd game they were going to play would be enough to keep it from disgusting him, was something that made her feel like running.

“I know that you were pretending to be asleep this morning.”

She bit her lip, still not looking at him, trying again to focus on her breathing and the rate of her heart’s beating. She was hyper aware of the fact that she was in his bed, just a foot from his side, a distance that could be crossed in a moment. She could feel his warmth at his side and could remember how nice it had felt to wake in his arms. His hand tightened on hers, denoting a tension in him that worried her more than anything.

Maybe this is too much too soon for him. Maybe he doesn’t want to pretend to be more because I already crossed a line.

“I was.”

She wouldn’t lie. She wouldn’t lie to him if she could help it, and there was no point in trying. He already knew, as she suspected he did, that she’d faked being asleep just to stay in his arms a little longer.

“Anna… I’m choosing to believe that means something, because to me it did. So, I think you should know that before we start pretending to be more than we are right now, even if it’s just for a moment.”

She felt her chest go tight and then she relaxed. Something akin to euphoria flowed through her as she came to the realization that he wasn’t about to tell her that she’d overstepped but was, rather, letting her know that he’d felt something.

We’ve only known each other a few days.

She couldn’t deny the feelings she was developing for him. He was kind and well meaning and he believed that this, their relationship, might be fate.

She was starting to believe it too.

“It did. I… Kristoff I haven’t felt so safe in a very long time, and I didn’t want to wake up because that meant we had to leave and I didn’t know if we’d…”

She looked back at him and saw a softness in his expression, a knowing look in his eye. He understood because he felt the same.

“Do you… do you still want to pretend? I know it’s silly, but even with everything… we’re almost strangers and I want to tell you, but I don’t know if I can without knowing that you won’t push me away.”

“Anna… I can promise you I wouldn’t… but I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I want to know what it would be like to pretend… just for a little while that we’d known each other longer. So I want to if you do.”

“I do.”

It wasn’t the first time she’d said it in the week, but this time she was much more sure of it. This time it was a choice.

He didn’t respond in words, but pulled her close instead, his fingers unlacing from hers to slip under the sheets and tentatively span her waist.

She gasped at the contact, but then leaned into it, helping him reduce the space. She wanted this. She wanted so badly to pretend that they were more than just maybe, could-have-been, and someday.

You need to tell him now before you never do.

“He made it so easy to trust him…” she started, letting him lean down to look at her, closing the space until there was nary a paper’s width between their bodies and mere inches between their faces.

“And it wasn’t your fault that you did. I’ve heard what he was like Anna. Everyone trusted him.”

“But it was my fault because…”

“No,” he said quietly, interrupting her, the hand that wasn’t on her waist moving to push hair out of her face, “Being open and kind doesn’t give someone the right to manipulate you.”

He really does know. Already. He’s known.

She wasn’t sure how he could. Unless Elsa told him more than she thought he had. Unless Kai had. Or unless he’d just done his best to figure it out from the little pieces of information he’d been given, from the things she’d said, from the way she’d acted.

“I was just so lonely.” “So was I,” he said gently, “And I didn’t even know it until I met you.”

***

It felt strange to pretend, but mostly it felt strange to call it that when he wasn’t really pretending anything. He was acting like he knew the whole story with Hans, which he didn’t, but nothing else was fake. He’d been dying to hold her again since that morning. He knew that things between them were moving much too fast, he knew that he shouldn’t have been so forward with her under the guise of make-believe, but there was something about being with Anna that made him feel more like himself than he’d ever been.

The trolls believed that everything and everyone was just a half, that there was something or someone that they needed to make them whole. He’d thought for many years that it was his work that would complete him. He’d pretended then. He’d pretended for quite some time that he didn’t feel a jealousy and sadness when he looked at his parents working together hand in hand. He’d pretended that he didn’t need anyone.

Holding Anna, telling her that nothing that happened to her with Hans wasn’t her fault, that wasn’t pretend.

I’m not pretending to feel whole.

He let his hand shift a bit on her waist, feeling the curve of her side obscured only slightly by the light fabric of her nightgown. She was so small, so slight. He knew that he’d need to be gentle with her, and was reminded of this when the roughness of his fingertips caught on the fabric of her dress, prompting him to steady his hands and stop their path.

“Kristoff… you don’t understand… I was stupid and I just let him in… I didn’t think I just…”

Her voice was high, the pitch of each word escalating as she fought against the tears he could see collecting in her eyes. She’d apologized before for crying, but that too was something he’d wanted to tell her she never needed to be sorry for. He could feel her trembling under his hand, so he tightened his grip on her again, hoping that she would understand it as supportive.

She’s so strong. My wife has been through so much.

There was a conviction in the set of her jaw, in the way she was staring at him despite her tears. He understood just how much it meant to her that he understood what she was trying to tell him.

He didn’t interrupt her this time, didn’t tell her that she wasn’t at fault, because he would do it after. He knew that she needed to get this out, this secret that was in the way for her.

“He walked into the kingdom with a plan. He wanted the throne and he was going to go through Elsa first. But then he heard more about her, he knew she wouldn’t fall for him, so he went for me because I fell into his lap. He knew I would take any attention I could get and he knew I would be so dazzled by it that I wouldn’t hear anything other than wedding bells. And I didn’t. And because I didn’t, he nearly killed me… he nearly killed us both, and Elsa had to show her powers and it nearly destroyed everything. I almost levelled a kingdom with a bad decision and if I just opened my eyes none of this would have happened.”

She was crying openly now, the tears rolling down her cheeks unrestrained. He could feel her shaking and he could hear the panic in her voice.

“I almost threw everything away because I was lonely. And I got you dragged into it too. And I’m constantly terrified that I’m going to make a bad decision again and that you’re… How can you…”

She doesn’t trust herself. She doesn’t trust you.

That hurt. He was beginning to understand why she hadn’t wanted to tell him, and he was wondering if he shouldn’t have agreed to pretend. Especially now that she’d brought up their arrangement, signaling the fact that they weren’t really pretending anymore anyway.

He tensed. He couldn’t look away from her, he couldn’t move, because that would hurt her. It would show her that she’d thought right and that he would think differently of her.

He was frozen in place, his hand on her trembling waist, watching her cry.

What would the trolls say at a time like this?

He wasn’t quite sure when he’d started to realize that maybe his mother’s advice was more useful in this situation than it had ever been before, but he wished that he could recall more of it. He wished that he’d asked more about relationships, and women, and all the topics he’d always avoided with his family.

“I can’t promise you that things between us won’t go wrong,” he replied, “Like right now… I think maybe this is something we should have waited to talk about... until you trusted me more… until we didn’t have to pretend. But Anna, I can promise you that my only motivation for our arrangement right now is my interest in you. I’m not good with words. I wish I knew the words to say to make you feel like this is all okay, but I can tell you how I see everything you just told me.”

He took a deep breath and slid his hand back up her waist, to her back, bringing them even closer so that he could rest his forehead against hers. He could feel her untense a bit under him, and though her breaths came in and out in hiccupping and stuttering bursts, he felt that she was at least trying to calm herself down.

He wished he knew better how to help.

It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to feel so much that you feel like you’re falling apart.

His mother had been so good at calming him when he was young. He hadn’t cried in many years, but he could feel tears pricking at the corners of his eyes when he saw his wife hurting. What they had was so new that he could only reliably call what was between them friendship, but he already knew from the aching in his chest that he loved her.

“I don’t blame you for wanting someone to love you. I don’t blame you for everything that happened because you let someone in who hurt you. I only blame him for that. I don’t know how long it will take you to stop having reservations about our marriage… I have reservations of my own… not about you, but about palace life. I know that sometimes confidence comes and goes, and we are going to have our issues because I don’t think anyone doesn’t…”

He let himself think about his parents again for a moment. They bickered at times, they had different opinions and thoughts about how things should be handled, they got competitive and didn’t always agree, but they loved each other through it all. They talked about their problems, and they always made it through.

That’s what I want for us. Whether she ever loves me or not. I just want her to know that being my wife means that we’ll make it through.

“But you’re my wife Anna… and even if this wasn’t how we imagined our married lives… I want you to know that I’ll always be here for you. If you want me, I’ll be at your side.”

***

She hadn’t been able to keep up the ruse, not longer than a few moments.

She hadn’t had the mental strength to focus on pretending when she was thinking about every unique way Hans had broken her. She’d been fighting for so long to not allow her fears a voice, to keep them in, but as soon as she thought about how easily Hans had manipulated her, and how easy it was to let Kristoff into her life, she couldn’t hold it back.

You hurt him.

She let her eyes close as she cried out everything she was feeling. There was a headache twinging behind her eyes as she fell apart, but his soft reassurances and the feeling of his hand on her back and his forehead rested against hers lessened the ache. She’d just told him that she wasn’t ready to trust him entirely, she’d just told him how easy it was for her to fall in love with another man, and he was holding her through it.

This should be enough for you. This should erase any doubt.

It did, somewhat. She wasn’t really sure if she’d ever doubted him much at all, but she’d needed to give her fears a voice, even if she thought that in the end they were irrational.

“I’m so sorry,” she managed to choke out after a lengthy silence punctuated only by the sounds of her sobbing.

He just held her tighter.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he said, his voice low, a hurt in his tone but a strength too.

You managed to marry a mountain man… of all the men in the kingdom… maybe fate is real… maybe someone or something out there knew you needed someone resilient.

She wrapped her arms around him as best as she could, melting into him, trying to match her breathing to his and finding it easier than she would have imagined.

“I wish I’d met you before,” she said, her voice low as she told him the thought as it came, “I wish that everything had been different and that I would have tripped and fell into you in the market.”

“I probably would have told you to watch where you were going,” he said, a hint of self-deprecation in his tone, “I’m not normally so good with strangers.”

She let herself feel a bit of amusement at that. She remembered the hardness in his eye at the wedding, the way he’d shut down a bit around the castle staff. He certainly wasn’t much of a people person at first glance, and yet he was holding her close, just days after they met.

“And I would have tried to apologize, and probably would have rambled for ten minutes straight about how clumsy I am.”

He let out a soft sound, an almost laugh, and she felt a warmth return to her that had been absent since they started talking about Hans. She let herself hold onto it, allowing her closeness to him to chase away the feelings of dread that were still lingering on the fringes of her consciousness.

“And I would have been charmed, whether I was willing to admit it or not. Because you’re beautiful and kind and so far, impossible to be upset with for any more than a moment.”

He thinks you’re beautiful.

She felt the flush rise to her cheeks, and she couldn’t help but feel a little giddy at the idea of her husband finding her attractive. He’d already demonstrated this before, and she had been told before that she was lovely, but there was something about hearing him say it so openly that made her beam. Also that he seemed to find her good company seemed a blessing.

“And I would have offered to buy you lunch in the market for inconveniencing you… and also because you’re not bad looking yourself.”

“I doubt I would have been able to catch the eye of a Princess if we didn’t already know each other.”

She very gently shook her head, her forehead shifting against his. She could feel his breath when he spoke, they were so close that she’d just need to shift a bit to press their lips together.

Not yet.

Soon.

That thought sent a tingle down her spine and made her cheeks go even hotter than they were. He was her husband. She could kiss him if she wanted. But they were still getting to know each other, and she knew that it was something that needed waiting.

She’d thought once before about the fact that she was falling in love with him, and how easy it was to do so. She knew that even if they’d met under other circumstances, she still would have found him attractive, that she would have found him loveable as soon as he opened up to her.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” she replied, “I think you’re incredibly attractive Kristoff.”

“Well, I’m glad my wife doesn’t find me difficult to look at.”

She almost balked at his words, but then she realized that he was joking.

My husband is teasing me.

She liked it once she realized. She liked it when he joked. No one ever teased her.

“And I’m glad my husband finds me beautiful,” she said, teasing back.

“Maybe I just have a thing for red hair?”

That had her laughing. Of course, he might really have a thing for red hair which was neither here nor there, but she liked that she could laugh with him after crying so much.

“I like this kind of pretending better,” she said quietly, “Thinking about the what-ifs in a nice way and not feeling bad that it didn’t go that way.”

It may have been simpler if it had of course.

But nothing had ever been simple for her.

“Me too Anna,” he said warmly, holding her close, making her feel safe again like nothing could go wrong so long as he was around, “Me too.”

#A Convenient Arrangement #kristanna #Arranged Marriage AU #Frozen Fanfiction

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