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parkersroses · 3 years

Text

taken. | harry styles.

summary: harry finally found the love and happiness he was looking for. but someone from his past comes back and he’s reminded of the pain he went through.

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

word count: 4304 words

warning(s): slight mentions of sex, bullying, angst and fluff

author’s note: (disclaimer: gif is not mine!)

this honestly the longest fic i’ve written, i’m honestly shook and i wrote it in about two days! taken was one of my favs from the up all night album so this was born lol. hope you guys like this as much as i do! as always, if you do like this, leave a like, comment and reblog! your feedback is very much appreciated <3

When Harry falls in love, he falls madly and deeply.

So when he met Y/N at a record store, where she skimmed through the vinyls to pick up some Queen albums to play at home for her own pleasure, it was safe to say he quickly fell down that hole.

It was pure bliss in every moment he got to spend with her. On their first date, he took her out to the park and set up a picnic. He could still remember the smile on her face when they got there, wearing a pretty sundress and looking ever so beautiful under the summer sky. He even got her a bouquet of flowers, though he wouldn’t admit he got them last minute at a nearby florist minutes before the date.

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months and they were now happily living together. Harry swore he had never felt this much love for someone. Y/N was always there to support and cheer on him with everything he did, whether it’d be touring and appearing on a Vogue cover. He never doubted the love she had for him and it was the same on Y/N’s side. They were just hopelessly in love with one another.

On one day, Harry and Y/N were on their way to meet up with some friends for some brunch. It took quite an effort for Y/N to get him out of bed, remembering how Harry just wanted to cuddle in with her in bed.

“Harry, get up right now. I really don’t want our friends to think we’re skipping out on them because you wanna cuddle,” Y/N was picking out her outfit for the day while Harry was still lying in bed with his face buried in his pillow. She wasn’t going to lie, Harry did look adorable all wrapped up in blankets and she almost would forget about their plans or the day - almost.

“Don’t tell me you don’t love my cuddles, love. My cuddles are the best of the best!” He said as he poked his head out of the blankets.

“I do love them, baby. But I won’t have our friends tease us again for being late just because you wanna cuddle or have sex,” she said as she turned around to face him. Harry chuckled and laid on his back, putting his hands behind his head. He smirked as he saw Y/N’s eyes averting to his toned tattooed upper body and blushing at the sight.

“Think you wouldn’t mind the latter, right darlin’?” He smirked at the effect he has over his girlfriend.

Blood rose to her face and she cleared her throat as she threw a towel at him. “Stop distracting me and get ready,” she said. Harry only groaned at this.

They soon arrived at the shop and were greeted by their friends, luckily they weren’t late so they didn’t get teased this time. Y/N went around hugging everyone while Harry sat down at their saved seats. “Harry,” a voice called out to him. He looked up and to his surprise saw a familiar face he had not seen in years.

Her ash brown was straightened and her eyes were as blue as the sky on a sunny day. There’s a hint of a smirk on her cherry red lips. He hadn’t seen her ever since he went to his audition and was speechless of how she was suddenly here in their friend group.

“C-Cindy, hi,” he greeted her. “Long time, no see, huh?” She said as she sips on her drinks, looking up at him with her doe eyes. Harry, for a second, clenched his jaw a bit before giving a tight smile. “Yeah, been a while,”

Y/N sat down next to him and held his hand, he smiled brightly at her and kissed her temple. “You alright, bub?” she asked and Harry's heart just might burst at how sweet she is. He nodded and she turned to one of their friends, Josh, and delved into a conversation with him.

Throughout the whole brunch, Y/N couldn’t help but notice a slight change in how Harry was acting. Sometimes, when she asked him something, he would seem to be deep in his thoughts before breaking out of it. She thought it might have to do with Cindy, the pretty girl who sat across him that she hadn’t known of until today. Perhaps Harry and her had a bit of history together. Y/N wasn’t one to be the over jealous girlfriend; she trusts Harry very much in fact. But clearly, there’s a tinge in her heart after seeing the flirty looks Harry had been receiving from Cindy. She made a note to ask him about it later.

When the brunch is over, the couple bid their goodbyes outside of the shop. Just as they were leaving, Cindy called out to Harry. “Do you mind if I get your number? You know, to catch up?” She asked sweetly while handing out her phone.

Harry merely accepted the device, though hesitantly, and typed in his number. “Oh yeah, Y/N, this is Cindy, as you know. Cindy, this is Y/N, my girlfriend,” he introduced Y/N and she nods and smiles at his old friend. Y/N saw how Cindy stiffed up with the word ‘girlfriend’ but relaxed and gave a smile.

“Nice to meet you. Anyways, I’ll text you soon, Harry,” she said as she waves her phone. She bid them goodbye and Harry lets out a breath he didn’t know he held back. He tugged Y/N’s hand and they both headed back home.

━

When the both of them arrive home, Y/N could still sense that something is bothering Harry. When he smiles, it’s usually wide with his dimples making their appearance. But now, he only lifts the corner of his mouth. They weren’t the type to hide anything from each other and they’d always confide with one another if something was bothering them. So, she couldn't help but feel worried for Harry.

“You alright in that pretty of yours, H?” The two laid on their beds, wanting to take a short nap in the afternoon. Harry had his heavily tattooed arm around Y/N while she laid her head on his chest where his heart beated. It was no doubt one of her favourite positions to sleep in, the beating of his heart lulling her to sleep.

Harry chuckled at Y/N’s question, pressing a kiss on her the crown of her head. “Nothing, darling,” he assured her. Y/N propped her head on her hand, looking at him. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Harry raised an eyebrow at her. He didn’t think she would notice his off behaviour, but of course, she always does. That was one thing he loved about her, she just knew him all too well. She brushed her hand through his curly locks and he closed his eyes, sighing at the feeling.

“I know it might be something to do with Cindy. You don’t have to tell me everything now, but just want you to know that I’ll listen. Whenever you want to tell me,” she said. He nodded as he listened to her.

She was right, though. They never really kept things from each other so he might as well just confess to her. Plus, she only wanted to help him.

I honestly have the sweetest girlfriend ever, he thought.

“We dated briefly in school,” he said.

Y/N’s eyes widened, she didn’t think he’d say it out now. “I was sorta in love with her back then. Thought she was the prettiest girl in school and all,” he sighed before he continued. “Something happened and it just didn’t end well, on my part at least,” he let out a small laugh, but there was no humor behind it.

“Seeing her just brought back memories, I guess,” he said. He ran his hand through her hair, stroking his thumb against her cheek. Y/N kissed his palm and laid back on his chest. She figured that was all she was going to get from him, and she didn’t mind it.

“You’re okay now, right?” She asked concernedly, not wanting to trigger anything. Harry only chuckled and pulled her closer to him. “I am now. And I’ve got you now to take care of me,” he teased.

Y/N giggled and lifted her head up. “I love you,” she said softly, her words filled with warmth and love. Harry smiled and kissed her lips. “I love you too. So much,” he said back.

—

It was a few days later when Harry stumbled into Cindy again at a supermarket. He was in the middle of getting groceries when he heard her voice.

“Harry!”

He looked up from the grocery list to see Cindy walking over to him. Cindy surprised him as she went in for a hug. Harry froze and hesitantly hugged back. They pulled away and he cleared his throat.

“How’ve you been?” She asked in a sickeningly sweet tone. Not wanting to appear rude though, he tightly smiled at her. “Been good. And you?”

“I’m doing great. It’s really great to see you again.”

He nodded and cleared his throat. “Well, I’d love to stay and chat, but I have to get going. Y/N’s probably waiting for me at home.” Cindy’s smile faltered a bit upon hearing Y/N. “Yeah, Y/N. How is she?” She asked, although she didn’t seem like she wanted to know.

Harry smiled at the thought of his girlfriend. “She’s doing great! Been studying a lot but she’s doing very well.” Cindy faked a smile, but her heart can’t help but melt at his smile. He always did have a beautiful smile. “Uh, listen, I’m going to a bar with some of our friends this weekend. I was wondering if you wanna join,” She offered as she pouted her lips a bit, fluttering her eyelashes.

Harry hesitated for a minute. “Um, I don’t know. I was planning to stay in with Y/N,” he decided to make up a random excuse. “Oh, what? She doesn’t like partying? I think we all need a break once in a while,” she scoffed. Harry furrowed his eyebrows and talked back, “I never said I won’t come. I’ll think about it, alright?”

Cindy was flushed and bowed her head, as if she was embarrassed for talking about Y/N quite rudely. Good, she should be, Harry thought. “Right, sorry about that. But let me know. It’d be really nice if you come. Y/N can come if she wants to.” Harry nodded.

“I’ll, uh, see you around, Cindy,” Harry said as he quickly pushes his cart away from the scene. It was almost suffocating to be in the same room as Cindy, or aisle for that matter. Harry cursed at himself; he could’ve just said no and be over with it. Now, Cindy’s going to expect him to be there.

Good job, you idiot! He thought.

Of course, Cindy was impossible for anyone to resist and he was sure she knew this. But he didn’t feel right about it. He knew he should’ve let whatever happened in the past go, but his heart just can’t seem to do it. His heart still hurt and was still bitter for what happened.

Harry was 16 while Cindy was 17. He knew the chances are that you’d be more popular among the crowd if you dated someone a year above you, but that wasn’t his intention at all. He had the biggest crush on Cindy for quite a while. He saw her as probably the prettiest girl in school. So when Cindy asked him out, his little heart just bursted.

As one month went up, he was already falling for her. He did all the nicest things for her but unfortunately he couldn't see the red flags that warned him about her. They were at some house party, though he wasn’t one to drink back then. He remembered kissing her in one of the empty bedrooms. He remembered Cindy undoing his jeans and feeling flustered at what was about to happen. But he also remembered a couple of drunk guys, who turned out to be Cindy’s friends in her year, barging through the room, holding a recording camera. It was all a blur.

The next day, he showed up at school to talk to her, but his heart broke after seeing Cindy flirting with a senior. His heart broke even more when Cindy called their relationship off, saying that she only pitied him and never was interested in him the way he was with her. It was all a game to her. The rumours about Harry sleeping around with junior and senior girls start to spread, the recording from the party went out. Harry became the joke of the school. It completely destroyed him for a while. People in the halls gave him dirty looks, some pitied him, but what’s worse was that Cindy never had a bit of kindness in her heart to defend him. It was what triggered his first anxiety attack too.

Eventually, the video was taken down and the ones who spread the rumours were given a word or two from the principal. But, it didn’t fix the damage and pain Harry went through.

Now, he finally had the woman of his dreams, one who supported and loved through all he did. One who wiped his tears or even cried with him during the hard times. Harry felt like this was his shot at finally being happy with someone who genuinely and deeply loved him as he did her.

But Cindy's back and now he has to face the woman who played a major role in nearly damaging himself.

Harry was sure to get a lecture from Y/N about this. He groaned at the thought as he continued his grocery shopping.

━

“You did what?” Y/N asked in disbelief.

Harry had finished putting the groceries in the kitchen, all while telling Y/N about his dumb self accepting Cindy’s invitation to a bar. He was now sitting by the island with his face buried in his hands. “Go on. Tell me I’m an idiot,” he sighed.

Y/N chuckled a bit at her boyfriend, “Okay, you’re an idiot.” Harry lifted his face, his mouth agape as his girlfriend called him out. Y/N shrugged, “You told me to say it,”

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it, though,” Harry groaned.

“Look, I’m just confused. From what I know, seeing her again made you uncomfortable. Why didn’t you just decline the offer?” Y/N asked gently, knowing how stressed he is about this situation. “Because I’ll probably feel guilty saying ‘no’ and I’m an idiot.” he said, hiding his face in hands again.

“Well, you got the idiot part right,” Y/N whispered to herself.

“What?”

“Nothing!”

Harry sighed. Y/N frowned at him. She felt a bit guilty that she can’t offer anything other than advice to him. This was his problem, his past that came back to fool with him and it was driving him up the wall. She walked up beside him and wrapped her arms around, kissing his head lightly. Harry in return wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

“You know you’re not obligated to please everyone, right bub?” Y/N said gently as she stared into his beautiful green eyes. “If even her presence makes you uncomfortable, then don’t go. Of course, I won’t force you if you want to go. But don’t do something that you know it’s hurt you. I don’t know much about Cindy or what she did to you, but don't put yourself through whatever she made you feel years ago again.”

Harry stared at Y/N with his mouth slightly agape, taking in her words. She was right, as always. He wasn’t going to put himself through the pain and misery he went through years ago. He didn’t need to ‘think about it’.

“You’re right, darling,” he chuckled. Y/N smiled brightly at him as she ran her fingers through his hair, a gesture that seemed to comfort him always. “Of course, I am,” she teased. Harry rolled his eyes at him and sighed. “I'm gonna tell her I won’t come. ‘Ave the whole day to spend with my beautiful girl,” he smiled.

Y/N blushed at his words and pecked his lips. “Quite the charmer you are, Styles. Does your girlfriend know how cheesy you get?” She joked. Harry laughed and joked back, “Well, we’re still happily in love together. I’m assuming she doesn’t mind,”

Y/N beamed at him and gave him a more proper kiss. Harry smiled in the kiss, returning the gesture. When they pulled away, she pressed her forehead on his as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Think she doesn’t mind either,” she said.

━

Harry ended up declining Cindy’s offer, much to her dismay. Unfortunately for Harry though, it didn’t stop her from texting him nearly every day. She was always asking whether Harry was free to hang out, most of the time she implied that it would be just the two of them. Of course, Harry sometimes would ignore them or give her short answers, saying he was busy, which wasn’t a complete lie because he did have to go to the studio once in a while.

Though, you could really tell how much he wanted to bang his head after receiving those messages and Y/N was also getting annoyed with Cindy and whatever little plan she had.

“She needs to back off my man. She had her chance and she ruined it. That’s on her,” she exclaimed one time. Harry smirked at this and pecked her lips. “Your man, huh?” He teased.

Y/N blushed after realizing her words, but she still meant it. “W-Well yeah. You’re my man and I’m your girl,” she pouted.

Harry stifled his laugh at her adorable self. “You’re absolutely right, darling. What do you say about having some alone time with your man in the bedroom?” He said as planted kisses at the crook of her neck.

On one of the occasions he went home after being in the studio, he stopped by a nearby coffee shop to buy himself and his girl drinks. He got himself a black coffee and Y/N a hazelnut latte, even asked for two blueberry muffins.

As he was humming to himself by the side while waiting for his order, his eyes wandered and you could imagine his shock after seeing Cindy at a table across the room. He quickly ducked his head down, praying his order would be ready soon.

“Harry!” The barista called out his name. Harry cursed at the loud announcement, though he thanked them and gave them a generous tip in the tip jar. As he quickly tried to get out there with his head down, he heard Cindy call out to him.

“Harry! Hey!” Cindy called as she waved her arms at him. He internally groaned at this, he walked over to her anyway, not wanting to seem rude.

“Hey Cindy,” he said, giving her a fake smile. God, he’d rather be anywhere but here.

“What, babe? You’re not gonna sit down with me?” She smirked. Harry froze at this.

“Uh, I actually gotta go home to-“ he’s cut off after Cindy pulled his arm down, making him sit opposite her. He pulled his arm back from her, clearing his throat.

“I’ve been texting you and haven’t heard much back,” Cindy said as she pouted at him. Harry pressed his lips in a straight line before he replied, “Yeah, I’ve been busy, working in the studio and stuff,”

Like he said, not a total lie.

Cindy hummed at this. What she said next really surprised him. “I really missed you, you know,”

What?

“Didn’t you miss me, Harry?”

Harry stumbled upon his words, not knowing how to reply to that. Cindy slowly grabbed his hand. “Cindy, what-“

“You ever think what would happen if we never broke up?” She started. Harry thought all of this was ridiculous. Was she even thinking clearly?

“Last time I remember, you broke up with me,” he said bitterly. Cindy’s face became flushed. “And that was my mistake. But c’mon Harry. We’re older now. Never knew you’d be this big in the music industry. We’d be amazing together,” she said.

Is she serious? Has she gone mental?

He pulled his hand away from her grip, as if he was disgusted to hold it. “That’s really rich coming from you, Cindy,” he scoffed.

Cindy frowned at him. “Harry, I-“

Harry cut her off before speaking again. “It’s quite hypocritical of you to say you want me when you clearly said otherwise before. Now that I’m with somebody else, you suddenly want me? You suddenly miss me bowing down to you?”

Cindy scoffed. “So, I made a mistake when we were younger. But we can move past that! Plus, that girlfriend of yours couldn’t possibly be better than me,” she smirked at the last statement.

Harry was now fuming. “That girlfriend of mine has a name and she’s already better than you’ll ever be,” he said firmly.

“Yeah, right,” Cindy mumbled.

“I don’t know if you remember, Cindy, but you nearly ruined my life. I was broken for a long time because of you and your little game you played. But now, I consider myself lucky. I found someone who genuinely loves and supports me throughout my highs and lows. Someone who doesn’t see me as Harry Styles, but simply just Harry. Someone who I can cry and lean on to. Someone who’s clearly not you,” he seethed.

Harry calmed down for a bit after realising he was starting to lose his temper. Cindy now didn’t look as confident as she always does. She knew Harry was right about everything; she just wouldn’t admit to being in the wrong.

“I wish under different circumstances, we’d be on good terms. Maybe we could’ve been friends. But what you did to me is still painful to me. And now when I look at you, I’m reminded of how you’re just a beautiful mistake I made,” he said gently this time.

Cindy gasped and looked at him with her mouth agape. “Harry, I-I’m sorry,” she said, her voice wavering a bit as if she’s lost for words. Harry only gave her a nod.

“It was nice seeing you again, Cindy. Have a good life,” he said as he stood up and walked out of the coffee shop. He felt a weight being lifted off his shoulders, as if he finally let go of his past demons haunting him.

When he got home, Y/N was in the middle of painting while following a Bob Ross tutorial in the living room. He chuckled as he watched her face scrunched up in concentration to follow the instructions. He put the bag of coffee and their muffins down on the coffee table and sat down next to her.

“Hi, darling. Ya doing alright?” He asked softly as he kissed her cheek.

Y/N sighed in frustration and paused the tutorial video. “I guess. I used the wrong shade of pink for the sky. Bob is probably disappointed,” she pouted.

“I’m sure Bob will appreciate the effort. If it cheers you up, your painting is probably better than his,” he joked. She giggled at him.

“I’m sure Bob’s ghost is punching the air right now after you said that,” she joked back.

Harry smiled as he looked at her. Her hair up in a messy bun, her face free of makeup, he sure that she's wearing his button shirt with shorts. She looked ethereal. It was in that moment Harry realised that she was the one he wanted to marry one day.

“Harry?”

He’s popped out of his little bubble as she called him out. “Yeah, love?”

“You zoned out a bit. You alright?” Y/N asked as she stroked his cheek. Harry smiled at his thoughtful girlfriend and nodded.

“I’m fine, love. Just thinking of how much I love you,” he said genuinely. Y/N blushed at his words. “Well, I love you too,” she beamed at him.

“Well, I hope you do. I bought blueberry muffins for us,” he teased as he took out their drinks and muffins out of the paper bag. Y/N dramatically gasped as she took one of the muffins. “I think we’re truly meant to be together, Harry Styles,” she said dreamily as she took a bite.

Harry laughed at her words and admired her for a bit. I think we’re meant to be, too. He thought as he took a sip of his coffee. He now felt a lot of happiness and joy in his life, with his love by his side.

After letting go of his past, he felt like he could finally breathe again.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #parkersroses writing

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kneeeklaus · 3 years

Text

Decadence - Klaus Mikaelson

General Info:

TW: Swearing

Type: Fluff, innocent confession

Summary: At the Mikaelson’s Ball, you accidentally make a comment about Klaus while Rebekah’s around, she figures out you have a crush, and plays the part of a double agent wing-woman.

*I’m pretty sure I wrote this gender neutral

Another day, another fancy event to attend. Mystic Falls was kind of just like that. One might assume that after a while, these formal events may start to get boring, and while that’s generally true, tonight’s event was an exception. The Mikaelson’s Ball.

You knew the Mikaelson family to be quite flamboyant in taste, and so, you assumed they’d spare no expense. So neither did you. You had picked the most decadent of outfits, one that suited your features and fiery personality. You had to admit, you really liked one upping other people, so you went all out.

The outfit was not expensive per say, but carefully crafted, and with no detail spared. As soon as you’d heard of the occasion, you’d started sifting through ideas in your head about what you wanted to wear. The result of your blood, sweat, and tears certainly justified your effort.

You looked amazing. You were well aware of that. When you entered the Mikaelson mansion, in all its’ newly renovated glory, you could tell that many people noticed you. It wasn’t one of those movie moments where time stopped for a moment and all eyes were on you - that would be cliche. But you were perceptive enough to notice the volume in the room lower as you entered.

And soon you were aware that you knew barely half of these people, and not even a tenth of them well. You noticed a beautiful head of blonde hair skate by in between the gaps of heads, and you intrinsically knew it was Rebekah. You followed behind her as she made her way to a small seating area on the second floor.

She whipped her head around at you, she could sense your presence. “Oh, you’re here. No wonder it got so quiet.”

“You noticed that too?” You asked.

“I’m very perceptive. Moving on, you look bloody gorgeous. I’m jealous.” Rebekah whined, crossing her arms and throwing herself back into a leather chair. Her perfect posture slumped.

“Yeah, but you’ve been gorgeous for over a thousand years. I age. I think we can call it even.” You explained. Rebekah snorted and shifted in her seat.

“Very true. How have you been?” She asked thoughtfully.

“Since last night? Probably about the same as the last time I answered that question.” You said, sarcasm lacing your lips.

“Very witty, you are. But truthfully, a human’s condition can change very rapidly in the span of a few hours. You’re my favorite human, I try to check in on you often. And honestly, good things don’t really come to those associated with the Mikaelson name.” She drabbled, her expression growing bleak.

“How sentimental.” You smiled. “Luckily for you, I’m not superstitious.”

You looked around the room as Rebekah got up from her chair and joined you at the balcony’s railing, you both silently observed the guests below. In reality though, Rebekah was droning on about how old these events get sometimes, but you didn’t hear a word she said because Klaus caught your eye.

He looked so good in a suit, and it was a sight you didn’t see all that often. You took your time to appreciate it. His shoulders were wide, and he looked tall, especially when standing next to Elijah. His arms looked slender and long. The white on white on black suit ironically suited him. He looked so extravagant, with his hair parted and pulled away from his face, exposing his beautiful bone structure. The slight shadow of his facial hair made you weak. Everything about him made you weak. He looked so unbelievably good, but your gaze wondered to his lips. “He has such pretty, pink lips.”

And suddenly, you realized that you had accidentally said that last bit out loud. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you finally pulled your eyes away from Klaus to glance at Rebekah’s reaction. Her mouth was slightly agape, and her eyebrows were dipped in confusion. You didn’t know what to say, you were completely speechless.

“Y/N, do you have a crush on my brother, Nik?” She asked, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“What? No!” You said, panicked. And then you realized how stupid that sounded, and also that if you didn’t admit that you liked Klaus, she might think it was Elijah you fancied. “Okay, so maybe I’m slightly fond of Klaus. It’s really not that big of a deal, he’s just charming, okay?”

“Y/N, you zoned out, didn’t hear a word I said, and mumbled something about how pretty you think his lips are.” She raised her eyebrows “You’ve been caught red handed.”

“Look, Rebekah, I always intended to keep it to myself. I’m just attracted to him, that’s all, I’m sorry.”

“What on earth are you apologizing for? Finally, Klaus has a suitor that I actually like!” She said, quite excited.

“Shh, don’t say that out loud, what if he’s listening in? Oh god, I’m doomed. I’m done and-” You paused “Did you just call me a suitor? What makes me a suitor, I don’t have a chance in hell with him.”

“You have a better chance than you think you do, sisterly intuition. Now, come on.” She said as she took your hand and dragged you down the stairs with her.

“What are you doing, Rebekah?” You asked, but there was no answer, only a content smile lingering on her lips. “Rebekah, I think this is a really bad idea.”

But she paid you no mind, she was hellbent on making this happen. Soon, you approached the bar, where Elijah and Klaus were standing.

“Elijah! I think I may have spotted one Katerina Petrova. Do-” He cut her off by immediately walking away, towards the entrance of the mansion. “You stay here, I’m going to go deal with that.” And with that, she was gone.

But more importantly, you were left alone with Klaus Mikaelson. “Fancy a drink, love?” He asked.

You weren’t twenty one yet, but you answered “Yes” without much hesitation.

“What’ll it be then?” He quizzed you.

You really didn’t know much about alcohol, in fact, you were more of a weed person. And so you ordered a manhattan, without really knowing what it was. A short while after, it was served to you, but you took one sip and decided that was enough. The look on your face said it all.

“Would you fancy something a little sweeter?” He asked, taking a step closer to you. You nodded curtly.

He delicately took your hand, and led you away from the party to a dimly lit room, decorated as decadently as the rest of the house. There was wine lining most of the walls, which Klaus appeared to be scouring.

“Ah, there it is. A 1789 Botryis Nobel Rot.” He muttered under his breath as he pulled the wine bottle out of its’ sheath.

“I’m going to be honest, I don’t know anything about wine, but if you say it’s good, then I’ll trust you on that. Although, the 1789 part does make it sound lethal.” You explained, trying your very best to be charming.

He laughed. He laughed, at a joke you made. You couldn’t even recall the last time you’d seen him smile. An asymmetrical grin took its place on your face as you relished in the moment.

He poured two glasses and handed one to you “You do look absolutely gorgeous, might I add.” As he handed off the glass to you, his fingers lingered there, tangled with yours. You smiled and looked down, trying to hide your rosy cheeks which were betraying you.

“Oh, well, uh, thanks. And you as well. I mean-” You stuttered, tripping over your words “You don’t look gorgeous, I mean you do! But there’s a better word for that, I think. Handsome, maybe?” You really wished you could crawl into a hole, and never come out after that. How would you ever come back from that?

And then he said “Sweetheart, am I making you nervous?” And if you weren’t so god damn stubborn, you probably would’ve fainted before he even finished that sentence.

“You? Oh no, it’s- it’s the wine.”

“But you haven’t even taken a sip yet?” He questioned.

“No, I- I mean I’m still afraid this could kill me. I mean it’s way older than I am.” You elaborated.

“Love, I promise that won’t kill you.” He chuckled. And there it was, that cheeky grin that made you go weak in the knees. You nodded and took a seat on a nearby ottoman. He sat down right next to you. He watched you carefully as you took a sip, and adored seeing your expression light up.

“Oh! It’s sweet, I wasn’t expecting that.” You said, delighted. But what you really weren’t expecting was how your knees would graze his from time to time as you sat together.

“Well, it’s a dessert wine, I hoped you’d like it.” He grinned.

“What have you done with Klaus Mikaelson?”

“What ever do you mean?” He asked.

“Klaus Mikaelson doesn’t smile this much, I know him better than that.” You claimed, sipping on your wine “And he certainly doesn’t go out of his way to serve guests dessert wine.”

He shrugged “Klaus Mikaelson also would’ve gone after Katherine, had she been here.”

You had been found out. And part of you wanted never to show your face around Klaus ever again, but a part of you was intrigued. “Well it wasn’t me who said she was around, was it?”

“Don’t be daft, now, I would’ve known if Katherine was within a hundred mile radius of this town.” He said “Now why don’t you tell me why Rebekah was in such a hurry to lure Elijah away?”

“How would I know? I’m not Rebekah. Why don’t you just go and ask her?” You stalled.

“Well, the thing is, love. I don’t really need to ask her, I did actually happen to overhear bits and pieces of your conversation, and by bits and pieces, I mean all of it.” He admitted.

You audibly gasped, and set your glass down before standing up. “So you’ve just been chatting with me, knowing this incriminating information? Was this all just an elaborate plan for some shitty practical joke? Oh god, I’m such an idiot.” You sighed, hiding your eyes with your hand out of embarrassment.

“No!” He exclaimed “No, that’s not what this is at all. I simply thought you looked beautiful tonight, and well, you deserve to have some fun.”

“So you threw me a pity party?” You laughed uncomfortably.

“Wrong again, are you always this paranoid?” He said as he stood up, towering over you.

“Then what?”

“Oh come on, Y/N, you’re a beautiful girl, I just though-”

You cut him off “So you brought me here to flirt with me?”

“No, well, yes, actually. I thought that’s what you wanted? Don’t you like me?” He asked sheepishly.

“Well, obviously, Sherlock Holmes.”

“Then I don’t see the problem here? Have women always been this confusing?” He asked rhetorically.

“Probably.” You shrugged. By this point you were half convinced you were being tricked, and half teasing him.

“Well, I um, I like you too. I have ever since I met you.” He admitted. “Rebekah figured it out a while ago, but I never thought you’d feel the same. I don’t exactly have a good reputation.”

“Klaus, there’s nothing wrong with you that can’t be fixed. You’re only the bad guy because you insist on playing the role.” You explained “Besides, everyone knows power corrupts good men, isn’t that like, Newton’s third law, or something?”

“Not quite...” He said. He wasn’t even looking at you anymore, he was looking through you. “I’m sorry, can I just-” Without warning, he pulled you in by your hand and pressed his lips to yours. You melted into his touch, your fingers instinctively making their way to the hair on the back of his neck. His hands pulled you in at the waist now. He pulled away, and his forehead rested on yours.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Klaus?”

“I’ve never really done the whole relationship thing. Honestly, until I met you I was convinced I had no emotions at all. But for the first time, I want to, I want you. Please be patient with me.” He said, your foreheads still touching, his eyes still closed.

You were stunned, your cheeks went bright pink, realizing how close you were to him. “Okay” you said quietly, before wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. He wrapped his arms around your torso, and lifted you slightly off the ground. For once, things may have been looking up.

**I may or may not do a part 2 to this because I have a good plot idea, stay tuned

#Klaus #niklaus imagine #klaus imagine #klaus x y/n #klaus x reader #Klaus mikaelson #niklaus mikaelson #niklaus x reader #niklaus oneshot #klaus oneshot #the originals #rebekah #rebekah mikaelson #elijah #elijah mikaelson #tvd #oneshots #fanfiction #imagines

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zodiyack · 3 years

Text

In Regards Of My Apology

Pairing: Niklaus Mikaelson x Female!Reader

Warnings: Angst?

Words: 1,174

Summary: Y/n misses her husband so much that it affects her visibly. Rebekah allows her to rant about it then schemes with Elijah. Before Klaus knows it, his older brother and younger sister are before him with an important message.

Note: I’ve decided I’m gonna do three parts, which. on that topic, part three will be released soon!

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @dpaccione, @jenepleurepasbaby

Masterlist | The Originals Masterlist

Part One. Part Two. Part Three.

His castle, really the Mikaelson home, was deserted apart from himself. Every day, the weight of his guilt daunted him. Too stubborn to straight away admit his foolishness, even to his wife, he sat in the lonely home of the Mikaelsons. It wasn’t like he didn’t wish he could reverse what he’d done, nor did he believe he wasn’t in the wrong. Klaus was just...Klaus.

On the other hand, Y/n was surrounded by the people she loved, minus her husband. Elijah and Rebekah were constantly checking on her and rarely did they speak of Klaus. The one time Davina tried to bring him up, all three older women stared her down and shook their heads urgently. It was like he was a forbidden topic, a man who’s name was no longer something allowed to be mentioned if you so much as valued your life.

However, it was quite the opposite with Y/n. Whilst she appreciated their caring company and loving gestures, she had no problem talking of her husband. In fact, she wanted to talk about him. Y/n desperately wanted to figure out the whole situation so she could be resting beside him in their shared bed every night again rather than the uncomfortable one provided by Marcel. She was grateful, but she yearned for the love of her life.

Each time she tried to talk about him, someone was quick to interject. Eventually she gave up, but when she hadn’t heard from him for a few months, she began to grow ill with worry. She couldn’t literally get ill as a member of the undead but it did affect her drastically. It wasn’t long before the others started to notice.

“Y/n, dear, are you alright?” Rebekah paused in place, concern lacing her knitted eyebrows as she set down the teacup she was about to pour the hot water in.

“Hm? Oh, yes, I suppose I’m fine.” Her lie wasn’t nearly as convincing as Klaus deemed Aurora’s to be, which was saying a lot.

Rebekah new better than to listen to her sister-in-law at this time. “What’s bothering you, love?”

But then, that was the problem. If Y/n were to tell anyone who was watching over her while she tried so hard to get back on her feet and recover from her fight with her husband that he was what was on her mind incessantly, they were surely to shut her down instantaneously. She hadn’t tried her luck in some time, over being interrupted again and again.

“It’s nothing...”

“No, no, no. Unless ‘nothing’ is making you look like utterly useless trash, no offense, then it is something.” She crossed her arms and leaned her hip into the counter with a sigh. “So, tell me what the ‘something’ is.”

Although Y/n doubted Rebekah would let her bring up Klaus, even for a second, she decided it was worth a try. “Well...if you really want to know-”

“I do.”

“Then,” she inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly as she prepared to voice the source of her troubled thoughts, “it’s about Nik.” Y/n waited, watching Rebekah intensely, waiting for her to interfere and change the topic. But she never did.

The Blond looked around for a second, then back to Y/n, “Are you going to continue or are you just going to leave me in the dark?”

“You’re...not going to stop me?”

“No. If he has you this distressed, we might as well solve the problem instead of letting you dwell in it.” Rebekah moved forward, pulling out a chair and sitting across from Y/n. “Now. Do continue.”

“Uh- Alright.” And so Y/n explained to her sister-in-law, as though she were her personal therapist, the distress she felt, the weight of their first large and unsolved fight a burden on her shoulders like Atlas and the world. In truth, she had taken up the role and become rather serious about it.

“Well, what do you think we ought to do about it?”

“I- We?”

“Did I stutter? Or did vampirism not amplify your hearing the way it should’ve?” Despite her sarcasm, she waited for an answer, but when one did not come, she chuckled a bit. “It’s the same as the last time. I have your back. We all have your back, so, if you’re going to do something about it, so am I.”

Both Rebekah and Elijah were the first to enter the forgotten Mikaelson palace in the time since the king and queen parted ways. Klaus reigned terror more than before, threatening people because he felt like it, doing things to quell his anger even though he knew full well that the satisfaction it gave him was only temporary until he had his queen back. Klaus was just as broken as Y/n and it was only when he was in the darkest place of months without her, did he fully take in Hayley’s words and actually give an effort to see the truth.

It was true, Y/n was loyal to a fault, and yet, he believed the woman turned out to be just as evil as her brother and Lucien in plotting against the Originals. He was vengeful when he found it out, putting an end to their plan and their existences with the help of his family and some friends. That was the last time he’d seen them since then.

“Thank you, Elijah.” His voice quivered.

Elijah pulled at his cuffs slightly, then looked at his brother with dead emotion. “This is the last time I will be by your side until you realize your wrong doings and do the thing you know you must. Until then, brother.”

As Elijah walked past him, he bumped Klaus’ shoulder harshly. He couldn’t help but freeze, tears filling his eyes as his gaze remained glued to the ground.

Snapping out of the memory, Klaus wiped his tears away.

“Alas, he finally returns to reality.”

His head snapped around, eyes wide and still watery. “You came back-”

“But not for you.” Elijah was quick to put an end to any hope of his siblings trust Klaus had left. “Niklaus, do tell me, have you any remorse for what burdens you have placed upon your wife?”

“Oh...” Klaus realized the true meaning of his siblings’ arrival, the guilt swimming around his gut only intensifying.

“Oh indeed, Nik. She’s ready to forgive whenever you’re ready to apologize.”

“Are you here to help me?”

Rebekah laughed, “No, I’m afraid you’re the one who made the mess, so you’re the one who must clean the mess. We’re simply the messengers, dear brother.” She smiled with false sweetness, then turned and paced out of the room.

Elijah, once again left alone with his younger brother, uttered his wise words of advice before he too left for the second time. “I do wish you take Hayley’s words to mind, Niklaus. It would do not only you, but your wife some good.” By the door was where he stopped one final time. “Mind you, if you truly love her,” he paused, “you’d do what is right.”

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softboyuris · 4 years

Text

Doctor’s Orders

Spencer Reid x Reader

Words: 5.2k+

A/N: I did a thing. It became this thing because of @eideticmemory. I am in no way shape or form half the writer she is but I had to do this. Inspired by this anon.

Summary: Spencer losing his virginity. That’s it. That’s the plot

Warnings: sex, swearing

{masterlist}

Spencer Reid did not party. He did not go to bars or get drunk. He rarely had more than one drink when he did go out with his coworkers, or more, was forced to. Don’t get it wrong, he loved them. They were more like a family to him than work buddies but in his line of work, he rarely had a day off. So when he did, he would prefer to spend it his way- curled up on his leather sofa with a good book, or ten. And no one could change his mind.

Now Derek Morgan, Spencer’s best friend and one of his aforementioned coworkers- although some might say they’re more akin to brothers than either of those labels- he liked to party. He loved going out with his friends, doing shots and drunkenly destroying open mic night. And he always, without fail, dragged Spencer out with him.

What? He was concerned for his friend. His best friend. Spencer never talked about what happened while on the job but Derek knew it got to him. It got to them all something that came with the territory. And recently he had been extra stressed and tense and Derek knew just what he needed.

A night out on the town where, hopefully, he could help pretty boy get laid.

Spencer didn’t want this. He begged, literally begged Derek to let him stay in but ultimately lost the fight. Because in the end, Spencer did enjoy hanging out with him he just wasn’t always too happy about the location. Or getting stranded at whatever bar and/or club they stumbled into after Derek, without fail, went home with a girl. Sometimes two.

Trilly’s was a local bar, often frequented by cops meaning it wasn’t too heavily trafficked and even when it was a busy night, it’s numbers didn’t compare to the bar Spence knew Derek would drag him to.

Which is why when Spencer agreed to go out, “Just for an hour, tops,” his one condition was that they go there. While his best friend may enjoy hitting on an entire group of girls at once, Spencer much preferred to sit in a corner and observe.

Flirting was not his forte and he had little to no desire to make it one. Sure, he’d been on a few dates before. Kissed one or two girls in college but dating just wasn’t really his thing. Really, it wasn’t. It’s not like he didn’t have game or anything. That totally wasn’t the reason.

As bad as it was, Trilly’s very rarely saw females. Spencer knew the statistics, and with under thirty percent of law enforcement being female, the odds were in his favor. He could go out, have a drink with his friend and avoid any awkward confrontations when Derek would inevitably try to be his wingman. It would be a fun, easy night.

After almost a month of detective work, Y/N had finally caught the son of a bitch who had been ransacking local, small businesses over the past two months in Alexandria. She was exhausted. Twenty-seven days of non-stop work, late nights and early mornings that sometimes bled into each other. She hadn’t taken a single day off.

Many of the businesses the culprit hit had to shut down because they didn’t have the means to stay open. Citizens didn’t want to shop at a store that had been burglarized by a man in the wind, worried he’d come back for more than just a few valuables. So Y/N put all her effort into finding him with some sliver of hope that it could save the business that hadn’t gone under already.

John Willis was pulled over for his taillight being out and the cop that apprehended him noticed several of the missing items that had been reported laying in his backseat. Y/N wondered how, after evading law enforcement for two months, he was caught so easily.

She didn’t let it weigh on her mind for long though. Willis was locked up and she finally got a night off.

She wouldn’t call herself a party girl, but she was known to get a little mischievous at the local cop bar, Trilly’s, every now and then. And tonight, she planned on having some fun.

Y/N dragged her best friend and crime-fighting partner, Jasmine, out with her. Jasmine had reluctantly agreed, having just gone through a pretty rough break-up. Y/N reminded her that he was trash and she would find someone better. “Or at the very least a very hot cop to have rebound sex with.”

Jasmine rolled her eyes. “I will do no such thing.” But she agreed to come out anyway.

When Y/N got to Jasmine’s apartment to pick her up, Jas was already waiting outside, dressed in a low cut deep blue dress that hugged her curvy figure. “Damn girl, I’d take you home in that outfit.” Y/N quipped as Jasmine got into the car.

Jasmine looked her best friend, who wore a similar dress that was red, up and down with a smirk. “Right back at you, sexy.”

Trilly’s was unusually busy for a Wednesday night. When Y/N and Jasmine finally made it through the door, the place was pretty packed. The music was turned up louder than normal and a large group of people had made the middle of the room into a makeshift dance floor. Or grind floor would be more accurate, as that’s the only dance move these people evidently knew how to do.

They squeezed their way past sweaty bodies to the bar, hailing the attention of the bartender almost immediately. Y/N ordered them a round of shots.

“Starting the night off strong, are we?” Jasmine popped one eyebrow up as she leaned against the slightly sticky bar littered with peanut shells and drops of missed alcohol.

Y/N nodded. “Only way to do it!” She partially yelled over all the commotion around her. The bartender set down two shots in front of them. “To rebound sex.”

Jasmine laughed, a barely noticeable blush dotting her cheekbones. “Mmhmm, sure.” She raised her glass but Y/N stopped her before she could down the liquid.

“Nuh-uh,” She tutted. “Say it back or else it won’t work.” With reluctance, Jasmine just barely whispered the cheer back but it was enough to satiate Y/N. “Much better.” She chimed. They clinked their glasses together and downed them simultaneously, placing them upside down on the bar after.

Spencer was already uncomfortable. Derek and him had literally just stepped foot in the bar and he was already regretting his decision to go out tonight. It being a Wednesday, he never thought in a million years it’d be this busy.

People pushed past each other in front of him. A group of at least twenty people were grinding against each other in the middle of the room where they’d deemed it the dance floor for the night. The floor was sticky as was the booth and table the two men eventually found themselves seated in. Spencer grimaced, his phobia of germs eating at his mind.

“Breathe pretty boy.” Derek smiled, slapping Spencer’s arm across the table. Spencer inhaled slowly, looking around at all the people bustling around him. This was clearly not his scene.

“I didn’t expect it to be this crowded.” Spencer yelled over the noise.

Derek laughed, “Where’s the fun in an empty bar?” Spencer held back the glare that was fighting to make itself known. When he didn’t respond, Derek slapped his hands on the table. “I’m going to go get us drinks.”

Y/N scanned the crowd for Jasmine who had said twenty minutes ago that she was going to slip out to the bathroom.

After a few minutes of searching, she spotted her friend practically sitting in the lap of some stranger at a booth across the room. She laughed to herself, setting some cash down on the bar for their drinks before making her way through the crowd.

When she gets to the booth, Jasmine looks up at her. “Y/N, you found me.” Her words are a little slurred. Y/N forgot how much of a lightweight her friend is. “This is Derek. He’s an FBI agent.” She whispered the last bit, or thought she did but the men at the booth laughed.

Which is when she noticed the guy sitting opposite them. She made eye contact with him and smiled. She could feel her face get hot but she passed it off on the alcohol coursing through her veins.

He was cute. Y/N studied his face for a second, hoping he wouldn’t notice her blatantly checking him out. He looked pretty young. Obviously he was old enough to be an FBI agent but had she not known that, she would have guessed him to be fresh out of college.

His hair was longer but it suited him and he had really kind eyes that Y/N was drawn to. Even though he sitting, she could tell he was tall. His shoulders slumped slightly as if trying to fold in on himself, something she knew all too well being quite tall herself.

“Y/N.” She introduced herself, snapping out of her dazed state and returning her attention to Derek, who was the exact opposite of the guy she was just looking at. “Nice to meet you. Sorry, about my friend.” She joked.

Derek shook his head, a wide smile on his face. “Nothing to be sorry about.” Any other guy and she would have been pulling Jasmine away but there was something about Derek that was non-threatening. She somehow knew her friend was in good hands.

Literally, he had great hands. His muscled arm was wrapped tightly round Jasmine’s waist as she leaned into his side. Y/N would be lying if she didn’t admit to his obvious allure.

Y/N looked back over to the other guy, who she now noticed had been staring at her the whole time. Upon them locking eyes, he swallowed. “Is this seat taken?” She asks him, pointing to the empty spot beside him. He shakes his head, his hands falling nervously into his lap.

Spencer was mentally scolding himself for being at a loss of words, which he never was. He could rattle off facts about literally anything and talk for hours but right now, he was speechless.

Y/N slide into the booth beside him. “So, are you with the FBI too?” She asked, her hands cupping her glass. She figured he was but since he didn’t offer her a name, she figured she would try and make conversation.

He nodded. Derek cleared his throat and Spencer looked up at him, pleadingly. His friend just aggressively nodded in Y/N’s direction, a way of telling him to say something.

“I’m Spencer.” He squeaked out.

Y/N looked up from the table. “It’s nice to meet you Spencer.” She smiled. Spencer waited for the inevitable offering of her hand, getting prepared to explain how he doesn’t shake hands because the amount of germs that are passed in a handshake are staggeringly high.

His eyebrows pinched together when a few moments passed and her hands didn’t move from her glass. “You don’t shake hands?” He asked, slightly dumbfounded.

Y/N chuckled. “Did you want me to?” She asked, a smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. Spencer’s cheeks ran crimson and Y/N smiled at herself. “Not on the job, don’t feel the need to be so formal.” She summed up, leaning against the worn leather of the booth.

“Where do you work?” It feels like such a dumb question but it’s left his mouth before he can process it. You’re at a cop bar, Spencer, where the fuck do you think?

“Alexandria PD.” Y/N answers without thought, sipping at her drink. “Been there for three years now.”

“Oh, don’t be so modest.” Jasmine waves her hand at her best friend, scoffing. She turns to Derek, pressing her pointer finger into his chest to accentuate her words. “She's the lead detective. Youngest to ever be promoted.”

Spencer’s eyes don’t leave Y/N while Jasmine talks. Y/N looks at her friend incredulously but there’s a small smile on her face and a blush is creeping up her neck. “I don’t like bragging.” She says to Jasmine, a small laugh leaving her lips.

Spencer has never been mesmerized before but he’s completely lost in Y/N’s laugh that he barely hears Jasmine continue talking.

“Pfft, it’s a big deal, Y/N. It’s not every day that a twenty-five year old gets promoted to that position.” Jasmine continues.

“Sounds like congratulations are in order.” Derek smiles, his eyes never leaving Jasmine. Y/N shakes her head. Jasmine is definitely not going home in the same car she came in.

“Thank you, but it’s not a new promotion.” She takes another sip of her beer, welcoming any distraction at this point. She hates it when she’s the center of attention.

“She never wants to celebrate her successes.” Jasmine tuts, rolling her eyes. She finally breaks eye contact with Derek to look at Spencer. “You know, she was top of her class at UCLA and has three masters. Three. I barely got through my one.” Jasmine hiccups at the end, nodding.

Derek looks over at Spencer and Y/N. “Looks like pretty boys gonna have a run for his money.”

Y/N looks over at Spencer, quirking an eyebrow. “Oh.”

Spencer’s cheeks darken but he doesn’t offer further explanation. Y/N looks to Derek for answers instead. “Three PhD’s.” He says, raising three of his fingers up in conjunction with his words.

Y/N nearly chokes on her beer. “Three?” Getting her master’s was hard enough she couldn’t fathom doing it again for her doctorates.

“He goes by doctor.” Derek winks at her.

“Morgan.” Spencer warns, looking up at him with stern eyes. Derek throws his hands up in surrender. “You don’t have to call me doctor.” He says to Y/N, running a hand through his hair. “He just likes messing me.”

Y/N smirks. It’s small and nearly imperceptible but Spencer notices and it makes his breathing pick up. “Who said I didn’t want to, Doc?” Spencer swallows, pressing his hands together to distract himself.

The conversation moves on but after a while, Jasmine and Derek are in their own little world, leaving Spencer and Y/N to talk.

She learns that he was the youngest person ever recruited for the FBI, a fact which he didn’t want to own up to. Similar to Y/N, he didn’t like the spotlight on him. Unlike Y/N, he had a reason to have the spotlight on him, which she told him after finding out he’s a literal genius.

“You can’t have an IQ that high and expect people to not put you at the center of their attention.” Spencer blushed at her words.

“I don’t mind your attention.” He replies, making Y/N’s heart skip a beat. “But normally, people are more annoyed by it than they are fascinated by it.”

Y/N tucks a pieces of hair behind her ear. “Well they’re clearly missing out.”

They talk for what feels like hours. Every new piece of information Y/N gets, she savors. There’s something about Spencer that makes her want to know everything about him. And she damn near does.

He doesn’t just work for the FBI, he works for the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI, which is like the best of the best. He has an eidetic memory and can read 20,000 words per minute, a skill which Y/N is borderline envious of, and he’s from Las Vegas. Which is where his mom lives, in a clinical facility because she has schizophrenia.

“I’m so sorry, that must be really hard on you.” Y/N says, placing her hand on Spencer’s arm soothingly. Her eyes are soft like her hand which he notices when he accidentally brushes it. She really means it.

Spencer learns that Y/N came to Virginia after university because her dad passed away and she was the only person in her family close to him. He left everything to her which also meant she had to go through all his belongings.

A tenant in his apartment building found him dead. The initial report said he had died of natural causes but after his autopsy they found signs of foul play. As it turns out, he was murdered. It’s what propelled Y/N to become a cop in the first place. “I set up base here and never looked back.”

He also learned that she’s probably the sweetest and funniest person he’s ever met, and he’s friends with Penelope and JJ. She’s smart, she seems to pick up on all his little quirks and respects them. And she’s beautiful, which he knew from the instant he saw her but is even more pronounced now that he’s getting to know her.

The two had been so engrossed in their conversation they didn’t notice that their friends were no longer sitting across from them. With a quick glance behind them, Y/N saw Jasmine slip out the front door, holding Derek’s hand and laughing flirtatiously.

Spencer groans next to her. “He was my ride home.”

“Did you really think the night was going to end any differently for those two?” Y/N asks, settling back into the seat.

“No.” Spencer relents. Without thinking, he reaches across Y/N and takes her drink, taking a few sips before realizing what he’s done. “Sorry.” He says, placing the cup down.

Y/N moves a fraction of an inch closer to him. “I don’t mind.” Her hand lightly brushes his thigh. “But, as you probably already know, we practically just kissed.”

Spencer’s breath hitches in his throat as Y/N’s hand comes to rest fully on his thigh, her fingertips lightly tracing circles on his inner thigh. He tries to focus on anything else but he can practically feel the blood rushing to his dick.

Y/N notices the change in his demeanor, leaning in closer so she can whisper. “I’ll stop if you want me to.” Y/N doesn’t know what’s come over her. Sure, she’s hooked up with guys she just met at the bar before but she’s never been this straightforward with someone. Not right off the bat, and definitely not with this much ease.

The tension between them has been palpable ever since she sat down an hour ago and now, with their friends gone, there was nothing stopping her from commenting on it.

Spencer shook his head at her words, mumbling something Y/N didn’t quite pick up on. “What was that, doc?” She emphasized the last word, her hand slowly moving up his thigh.

He started to bounce his right leg nervously. Y/N smirked. “I make you nervous?” He nodded slowly. Y/N stopped what she was doing, removing her hand and putting some space in between them. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” She was suddenly overcome with embarrassment, her actions finally seeping into the logical side of her brain.

“I didn’t tell you to stop.” Spencer nearly growled. Now it was Y/N’s turns to blush as she nervously looked over at him. There was a hunger in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. She unconsciously squeezed her legs together.

He leans closer to her until his lips are grazing her ear. “The bathroom’s empty, we could sneak away, no one would even notice.”

Y/N swallows at the implication. He’s been watching, waiting for the right moment to initiate whatever the fuck this was. Which means he knew it would get to this at some point.

Without a second thought, Y/N grabs his hand, hauling him out of the booth and making a beeline for the bathroom.

Just as Spencer had told her, the bathroom was empty. That, of course, didn’t stop her from checking all the stalls to make for certain that they were alone. Trust me, no one wanted to hear what was about to happen.

Spencer was still standing by the door, his once cocky demeanor now dwindling into the awkward nervousness that Y/N had grown to love about him.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” She says softly, grabbing both his hands. They just met, she doesn’t know what he has or hasn’t done before and while Y/N might have some experience with bathroom sex, she’s found that not all people do. In fact, it’s very rare for her to find someone who has.

Spencer lets go of her hands and for a split second she thinks he’s going to turn around and walk out but then his lips are on hers and she’s trying to get her brain to catch up because she’s missing it.

In a surge of confidence, Spencer cups Y/N’s face, smashing his lips against hers. After a moment, she kisses back, her hands coming up to run through his hair.

The moans that fall from her lips at the contact has him hard. He moves them so she’s the one pressed against the door, his hands coming down to grab her hips and pull her against him.

His tongue asks for entry and she gladly concedes. In a swift motion, she’s wrapped her legs around his waist, his hands supporting her by holding her thighs.

Y/N’s dress has been effectively hiked up from the change in position and while she respects his respect for her, she wants his hands on her. She reaches down to move them up until they’re resting on her bum. With a satisfied grin she pulls away from his lips.

He looks at her, out of breath and red in the face. “You’re not wearing underwear.” He breaths out.

She laughs, curling her finger around the hair at the back of his neck. “Actually, I was. Seemed to have lost them.” She shrugs innocently.

His eyes widen as he realizes what she’s saying. Something in her knew he would get it. He chastely kisses her cheek, his lips hovering over her ear. “You took them off, didn’t you? When you went to the restroom twenty-seven minutes ago.”

Y/N bites her lip, partially to fight back the laugh that wanted to come out knowing Spencer had counted the minutes, and nods. “Naughty, naughty girl.” He whispers, biting her ear. She gasps at the action, not expecting it, which propels him to grind against her.

“You gonna do something about it, doc?” She giggles, leaning forward to place a kiss on his collarbone.

Spencer moves them over to the sinks and sets her down on the counter, standing between her legs as he kisses her neck. Y/N starts to undo the buttons of his shirt just enough to expose his chest, which she runs her fingernails down, leaving red tracks in their wake.

“Fuck.” He groans, his forehead pressing into her chest. She lifts his head up to kiss him, fingers combing through his hair again, an action she’s coming to thoroughly enjoy.

“Do you have a condom?” Y/N asks as she kisses down his neck, her hands following in motion until they hit the top of his jeans.

Something about the question jars Spencer. Like his thoughts finally register exactly what he’s doing and the nerves slowly creep back into his stomach. He nods hastily, reaching into his back pocket where his wallet is. He sets it down beside Y/N on the counter.

Y/N unbuttons his pants and pulls the zipper down, tantalizingly slow, being careful to avoid touching his erection. Still attacking his neck with kisses, she pushes both his jeans and boxers down and they land bunched around his ankles.

She can’t help but look. I mean, really, it’s human nature to be curious.

His whole body is flushed red, or marked red by her fingernails and mouth, and that doesn’t exclude what he’s packing. And boy, is he packing. Y/N swallows at the sight.

Spencer avoids eye contact now that he’s fully exposed but Y/N is gentle in bringing his eyes to hers. She kisses him. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. Bathroom sex is just like normal, bed sex.” She laughs a little at her phrasing.

Spencer just nods nervously, reaching next to her to pick up the condom. He rips the package open and, with slightly shaking hands, focuses on putting it on.

After a few moments of fumbling hands, ragged breaths and a deep red blush that’s been slowly creeping up his neck, a smile slides across Y/N’s face. She places her hands over his and he looks up at her with worry in his eyes. “This is your first time doing this, huh?”

He swallows nervously, a small nod of his head indicating that her assumption was correct. “Like, ever?” He nods again. She responds by bringing his lips to hers. Y/N kisses him gently, a lot more calm and composed than they had been walking into this bathroom.

There’s still a nervousness about him but Y/N feels him relax into the kiss, slowly gaining back some of the confidence he had a minute ago. His tongue swipes over her bottom lip, her jaw dropping to allow him to search her mouth with his tongue as if he’s done this a hundred times before.

Had she not asked, she never would have guessed that he was a virgin. Aside from the obvious nerves, which she had passed off as a combination of alcohol and public sex, there was nothing about the way he held himself that made her second guess it.

His blush has completely taken over his face and it makes Y/N’s heart beat faster, if that is even possible because it was already running at a million beats per second. The taste of him overwhelms her senses which is why she lets out a small whine when he pulls away.

Spencer looks into Y/N’s eyes, his own glazed over with lust. “It’s okay.” She whispers, dragging her hand down his chest until it lands right above his sex. “I’ll teach you.”

He gulps, audibly gulps, as she wraps her hand around his cock. His forehead falls to her shoulder briefly as a barely audible “fuck” falls out of his mouth.

Y/N shuts her eyes and tries to contain the excitement boiling inside of her.

She slips the condom on with ease. Spencer watches her do it before looking up at her. Now she can see just how nervous he is. His hands are slightly fidgeting at his sides so she grabs them, placing them on her hips.

She scoots forward enough for access while still being supported by the granite beneath her. Spencer’s hold on her hips tightens.

Y/N hooks her hands behind his neck, giving him a nod of approval. “Whenever you’re ready, baby.” She whispers, looking in his eyes. Her entire demeanor has changed. She’s settled down so that he can enjoy this as much as possible and her eyes reflect that kindness.

Spencer removes one of his hands from her hips to help guide himself. He fumbles a little but after a few misses, his tip gently pushes into her. Y/N inhales sharply at the contact.

“Is this okay?” Spencer asks hesitantly, searching Y/N’s eyes for any sign of regret. She nods her head enthusiastically, a whimper falling from her lips.

“Yes, please, Spence, fuck me.”

He obliges, inching into her slowly until he’s buried to the hilt. “You okay?” He asks again, freezing his motions.

Y/N, overcome with pleasure, takes a minute to reply. “Please keep going.”

He finds a steady rhythm. It takes him a bit of time but he gets there eventually, fueled on by the soft moans that fall sporadically from Y/N’s lips. His thrusts are slow at first, picking up in speed as he grows more confident.

Spencer, being the person he is, knows everything there is to know about sex. But knowing about it and actually doing it are two very different things and he’s coming to that realization very fast.

Words cannot describe how good this feels. The way her walls clench around his cock with every thrust. The feeling of her hands on his back, fingers pressing little crescents into his skin hard enough to leave a bruise. And the noises she makes when he hits that perfect spot, encouraging him to continue.

Pure bliss is what it is. If this is what heaven’s like, Spencer Reid would gladly die in Y/N’s arms right now.

Y/N hooks her ankles around his waist, pulling him closer. She gasps out a moan at the new angle, her head falling back. Spencer somehow manages to pull her hips even closer. He thrusts faster but at a steady pace that has Y/N’s legs shaking.

“Spencer.” She moans when his lips attach onto her neck and start sucking the spot just above her collarbone. She’s close, which honestly shocks her. She also knows Spencer’s not going to last much longer, she doesn’t expect him to at least.

“Shit.” He mumbles against her neck.

“You gonna come?” Y/N asks between gasps of breath, one of her hands moving down to rub circles on her clit.

“Mmhmm.” Spencer moans.

“Then come baby,” She encourages, getting closer to her own release now that her fingers are working are her core, electricity jolting her body.

He tuts, a moan breaking the action. Y/N can tell he’s holding back. Spencer lifts his head so he’s looking at her and it nearly sends him over the edge, that look of pleasure plastered on her face. “Wanna wait, for, fuck- for you.” He manages out between moans.

“I’m right behind you baby, just let go.” As if under her complete control, Spencer releases and within a second is tumbling over that edge, stilling inside her. His orgasm knocks the breath out of him.

He’s jerked off before, had countless orgasms in the privacy of his own bed but nothing like this. Never like this. His head falls onto Y/N’s shoulder, slick with sweat.

The feeling of Spencer unloading inside her has Y/N coming, Spencer’s name leaving her lips in broken moans as she wraps her arms around him.

Spencer remains motionless for a minute, trying to catch his breath. Y/N can’t fathom trying to move right now, so she welcomes the stillness, her hands rubbing Spencer’s back.

After a moment, he stands up and helps clean Y/N up. She smiles the whole time at the gesture. After pulling his clothes back on, Spencer stands in front of Y/N.

“That was…” Spencer breathed out, his hands landing on Y/N’s thighs.

“Unexpected.” She finished his thought. “Amazing. Best you’ve ever had?” She laughs, her hands propped on his shoulders.

“I have nothing to compare it to but I’ll get back to you on that.” Y/N laughed.

“I’ll hold you to that.” She smiles. He leans in and kisses her softly.

“It was definitely something.” Spencer says as he helps Y/N down from the counter, balancing her when she stumbles slightly under her weight.

Spencer’s arm wraps around her waist. “It definitely was.”

“Did you really think the night was going to end any differently?” He asks, repeating the words she had said to him right before everything changed.

Y/N smiled, shaking her head. “Nope. It was just what the doctor ordered.”

#dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer x reader #this is not my best i dont think #but fuck it #hope you enjoyed #first time #reid x reader #mgg #Matthew Gray Gubler

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acciofanfics · 4 years

Text

Be Quiet (Harry Potter x Reader) SMUT

Request: Can you write a story where the reader (Slytherin) and Harry fall in love with each other and have their first time (smut pls!) and at the same time Sirius and the reader find out that’s she’s his daughter? Xo

Pairing: Harry Potter x FemReader

Warnings: Smut, very slight mentions of death, unprotected sex

Word Count: 2389

A/N: I forgot to specify the reader’s house! 😭 Also I didn’t do a whole lot of set up, let’s pretend their slightly older in Order of The Phoenix and this is set in when they’re staying in Sirius’ place? -S

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(Y/N) rapped quietly on the door, she supposed knocking on the door at all kind of defeated the purpose of trying to be quiet, so she abandoned her efforts and attempted to open the wooden door with minimal squeaking. “Harry? Are you up?”

Harry was quick to appear and open the door for her to come into the room. Honestly, he felt kind of bad, because it had been his intention to come to her. She had just beat him to it, but he supposed that wasn’t too surprising; she had always seemed to be more sure of herself than Harry had. “Yeah, come in. I was just about to go look for you.”

She didn’t need to be told twice. Harry was probably her best friend...or maybe Hermione, but that would only because she couldn’t share EVERYTHING with Harry (despite her desire to do so). She plopped on the bed and let out a sigh, a dramatic, but justified one. “This is a lot, right?”

“It’s a bit much sure… not entirely bad though?” Harry knew immediately what she’d been referring to. A bombshell for sure. One thing they had been able to bond over was the fact that she grew up without her parents, Harry was thankful that she had a much more loving and tolerant aunt and uncle though. She never knew who her father was, and her mother had died around the age of 3. She knew who her father was now though… the notorious Sirius Black.

(Y/N) knew that she had been kept in the dark for her own good. Most people still thought the man was a murderer and she knew her aunt and uncle just didn’t want her to grow up knowing that they shared the DNA. “I mean I guess not… Sirius is cool and all.” It definitely sucked that his name hadn’t been cleared to anyone not in the Order, but while not seemingly knowing a lot about what he was doing he seemed eager to try as much as he would be able to.

“I feel like I’ve been lied to my entire life and I get why they did it, but I wish I would’ve known.” (Y/N) sat up and laid her head on Harry’s shoulder. He’d sat down beside her after she’d laid back. “I suppose nothing really changes that much though.”

He could definitely relate to some extent. Harry constantly felt like he was playing catch-up, and he was always a step behind everyone in knowing about himself and his life. “Right.”

A silence fell over the pair. Harry wasn’t sure what (Y/N) was feeling, but he felt content. She always had a way of making him feel that way. Hermione kept pushing him to say something, and as much as he wanted to he always found a reason not to do so. Now for example would be incredibly inappropriate, she was already so overwhelmed it just wouldn’t be fair to add the weight of his feelings for her onto her shoulders.

“Can I ask you something completely off topic?”

“Anything.”

“Do you like me?” (Y/N) felt bad for blurting out the question. Now probably wasn’t the time and that probably wasn’t the best way to go about it, but at that moment it seemed like the most appropriate option.

Poor Harry was happy he didn’t have a mouth full or butter beer or pumpkin juice because there was no doubt that he would’ve probably spit it all over the bedding and the floor. He used to say that they were close enough that she could never surprise him, but that clearly was a lie. He often wondered if she was a Legilimen, because she seemed to have some sort of innate ability to read his mind. She also knew when he was lying to playing dumb probably wouldn’t be too much help in this situation, “Uh...yeah. Hermione says it's bloody obvious.”

(Y/N) chuckled and smiled, even though he wouldn’t be able to see it, “She says the same to me if it makes you feel any better.”

“You fancy me?” Harry always had a small suspicion, he didn’t think that Hermione would be constantly trying to get him to confess his feelings if she thought it would end badly, but still he had his doubts.

“You might be the chosen one, but you can be pretty thick sometimes…” She sighed and lifted her head from his shoulder. When he turned to see what was wrong she just planted a soft kiss on his lips. He immediately melted into it, he didn’t need to be told twice to kiss her back. He’d been thinking about doing it so long that it just seemed second nature.

Their foreheads stayed pressed together even when the urge to break away to breathe came. Her eyes were still closed, but Harry kept his open (he just needed to make sure this wasn’t a dream). “Would it be too soon to say that I’m in love with you?”

“I don’t think I’d use the word soon at all.” (Y/N) teased with a soft laugh.

Harry pulled the girl back in for another kiss, the second was even better than the first (which he hadn’t previously thought to be possible). She tasted like mint toothpaste, which probably now his favorite flavor as his tongue swept across hers. (Y/N) wrapped her arms around him, an act partially meant to pull him closer and partially meant to keep a grip on him so that when she laid down he’d come tumbling down with her.

Her back hit the mattress with a soft thud, and she found herself mildly impressed with Harry’s ability to gracefully follow her. His body resting between her legs and his hands on either side of her head. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled herself further into him, earning a small groan. Her lips curled into a smile against his skin, and she set herself on a mission to elicit a similar reaction, but not before whispering to him, “You have to be quiet, apparently my dad is in the other room.”

Harry rolled his eyes at her, but soon found himself forgetting what she’d said. Instead he was more focused on the feathery light kisses being trailed down from his cheek to his neck. He took a deep breath when she began to kiss his neck, her ministrations on the skin a new and very enjoyable experience. He didn’t even notice her hands sneaking under his shirt. He shivered slightly from her cold hands, but relaxed into her touch when she ran her palms across his chest and torso. “Whatever you’re doing for Quidditch is clearly working.” She hummed into his ear.

Harry chuckled and leaned up, pulling his shirt over his head and then helping her out of hers. He was kind of shocked by how not nervous he was. There was just something about her, he doubted there was anything in the world she could do to make him think less of her and he just had a hunch she felt the same (or least that’s the way she made him feel). There was little light in the bedroom, but he could still see her (barely, but he could). He hadn’t even thought about the fact they were in her pajamas and she probably wouldn’t be wearing a bra… she definitely wasn’t and he felt his voice catch in the back of his throat.

“This is the part where you tell me how good I look.” (Y/N) whispered playfully to him. She worried that perhaps she might’ve been ruining the moment with so much talking, but she also knew that Harry was aware she liked to make jokes to ease her own nerves. He was often the only one not taken aback by the sometimes poorly time sentiments.

“You’re bloody gorgeous.” His voice held no trace of jest and he didn’t even give her a chance to respond before he went back in for another kiss. The kiss was chaste, because honestly he wanted to give her a taste of her own medicine. When his lips met the skin of her neck (Y/N) found herself having to bite the inside of her cheek to keep her voice down. However, whenever he dipped lower and found her chest the action was futile. A sharp gasp tore through her throat at the new sensation and when to shower her breasts in kisses she no longer found holding back a moan a possible option.

The sound was like music to Harry’s ears and he began to crave hearing more like it was a song stuck in his head. He switched between her right and left nipple, carefully trying to pay the same amount of attention to each one, and he only found himself willing to stop whenever she rolled her hips upward and brushed herself against the erection he was now painfully aware of. To be honest, he wasn’t quite sure what was exactly expected of him. He definitely wasn’t entirely stupid on the subject, he knew WHAT happened, but maybe he was skipping an important step in the foreplay that he wasn’t aware of. He didn’t have much time to think too much about it, because (Y/N) wiggled out from under him. He would’ve been worried that he’d done something wrong, but when she began to shed the rest of his clothes those thoughts abandoned his mind. Really the only thoughts left in his head was her… and how she looked. Completely bare. In front of him. Merlin, he wasn’t sure there was ever a sight more beautiful and he doubted he’d ever be able to think of anything else.

“Care to join me?” (Y/N) hoped she wasn’t being too forward. This really was probably too soon… they’d just had their first kiss not even an hour ago and now she was lying on his bed completely naked. She’d been imagining this for far more than a few hours though. It was definitely not a fleeting thought… well it wasn’t to her. She hoped Harry felt the same.

“Oh! Yeah!” It occurred to him how lame it must’ve been that he was just sitting there looking at her and he quickly shed his left over layers too. Now they were both naked, and still just staring.

“This is okay with you right?” She drew closer to him again, careful not to touch him until she was sure that he also wanted this.

“Yes.” He thought she was bloody insane to even ask him that, but he wouldn’t say that to her (at least not right then).

That was all she wanted to hear, (Y/N) kissed him again, but this time it was different. It was full of anticipation and desire and their lips just moved together instinctively, because they were both too focused on the feeling of their bodies being pressed together.

This time (Y/N) didn’t have to pull Harry on top of her, this time he carefully laid her down and hovered over her. The tip of his cock brushed against her core and he was worried that he’d lose it right then and there. She whimpered and raised her hips to meet him. Their eyes locked and there wasn’t a need for words to ask permission or any questions. They both knew this was exactly what they wanted. Harry reached between them and drug the tip of his cock across her folds, his eyes closed when he slowly began to press himself into her.

Immediate pleasure washed over Harry and to put it bluntly it was far better than any late night with his hand. (Y/N) felt it too, not quite as intensely as she was still adjusting to the foreign feeling of being so completely stretched by him. The thought alone made her shift her hips. He was trying not to give into the desire to just completely ruin her, the thought had crossed his mind more than once if he was being honest and now that he was presented with the actual opportunity he was doing his best to be a gentleman.

“Harry,” He had always enjoyed hearing her say his name, and this was no exception. It was at least 10 times better when it came out more of a moan than an actual word, “Move already.”

He grunted a bit at the order, but obliged nonetheless. He pulled out slowly and then resheathed himself in her again. Each time a little faster and every little whimper or moan that came from her lips egged him on ever more. It didn’t take long for the somewhat uncomfortable feeling to completely disappear and soon her weak noises became a little louder. Harry would’ve been happy to have her screaming his name, the noise echoing through the hallways, but she was right. Her father was in the other room, as well as other people who would not approve of their display of affection.

“We have.. To be.. Quiet… remember?” His sentence was broken up by the thrusting of his hips, unable to find enough concern to completely stop his movements. Knowing he was right (Y/N) roughly kissed him. She wasn’t entirely sure that it would keep the noises at bay, but it was the only thing that she could say would have the potential to work at the moment. She was getting close, she could feel something like a spring in her body being twisted tighter and tighter with every thrust and then POP. A wave of relief and pleasure erupted through her body and a moan that sounded more like a strangled sob was let out. As cliche as it sounded, it completely undid Harry and he held her close, his face buried into her shoulder as he found the same pleasure she did and his hips stilled.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“That was my first time.”

“Mine too.” He answered honestly.

“We’re pretty good at this.” She let out a quiet laugh as Harry pulled himself out of her and collapsed on the bed. She laid down beside him, her head resting on his chest.

“Honestly… I think we could go for a bit more practice.”

#harry potter imagine #harry potter smut #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #request #fanfics

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fafulous · 4 years

Text

Take Me Home (1/5)

Andy Barber x Reader (Post!Defending Jacob)

Summary: After the unfortunate events of the trial and after, a depressed Andy Barber decides to call it quits and start a mundane life far away from Newton. He decides it is best to have a fresh start away from prying eyes and alone, but he never thought his caring neighbor (and her son) would change all of that.

Themes: MAJOR D.J. SPOILERS ((The series is following the BOOK ENDING and not Show)), Sad and soft Andy Barber, Single Mother Reader. Cursing.

a/n: I hope you guys like it. We all know Andy deserves some softness :’)

The one thing you cherished about your neighbourhood was its calming silence.

Away from the hustle and bustle of the 21st century fast pacers. It did not give you any force to lead a rush life. No matter how hard life was you enjoyed this serenity, just like your neighbours.

You were the only one relatively younger in your neighbourhood, for this place was normally owned by retired elderly after experiencing everything life had to offer. But for you and your three-year-old little son, it was a second chance at life. All your neighbours except for that one loner house beside you was occupied by retired veterans and war heroes.

But that soon changed.

A man by the name Andrew Barber had moved to the house beside you. You got to know one day when you saw a huge truck with people going in and out of the house with clean and neat furniture.

Seeing all that, your vivid imagination went running and tried to picture how this man would look. Judging by the furniture (which made no sense), you thought your new neighbour was someone who would be simple and felt it wasn’t going to be someone who was, you know, old.

Oh boy were you right.

Once those packers went by, you saw him.

Andrew Barber was nothing what you thought out to be. Tall and broad, his back muscles would tell you its own tale. From afar you noticed his biceps never failed him too, for his arms screamed whenever he went in and out with a huge piece of cardboard boxes. His facial hair was a bit messy, like he is just moving into his new abode right after a sloth nap. You weren’t sure but his blue eyes had a dull finish that were deep embedded in his sunken face.

You also took notice of his sleek black Audi A6 which was parked by his driveway; It was not easy to peel your eyes away from its beauty.

This was wrong. You’re a single mother with the most adorable kid you could’ve ever asked for. After a struggle of six months your son Nikolai and you have found a hint of stability; single parenting is never easy unless you get the hang of it.

And you did.

Before you could offer any refreshments, your neighbours beat you to it. They were too kind. They were the elderly parents whose snobbish kids only visited once a year. Hence you decided to fill the gap in their lives. They loved you and you loved them back.

So now you decided that maybe when the time is right, you could meet him in a day or two and get to know each other.

Right?

—

This was new for Andy. Very foreign too.

To live a life without Laurie and Jacob was something he never expected to happen after the trial. It’s been a good handful of weeks since it happened. He did not even have the heart to think more about his son. His eyes would cloud with tears and the whole day would go wasted in drowning himself in sorrow and liquor.

He was still mourning after all.

So he decided to move. Move away from his house that reminded of his 17 years of a marriage that only seemed successful, only for it go wrong in an impulse. Move away from all of the local tabloids that hinted at himself being a next murderer.

Move away from his unsuccessful lineage.

Scattered around him were boxes of his stuff at his new house, his stuff alone. Laurie’s stuff was nearly packed and sent away to her parents’ home, the last time he’ll ever associate himself with her family.

Yes, her family.

Andy did file for a divorce while she was in prison, but that was a long procedure until it became official. However hard it was to sign those papers; it was as hard to let go of Laurie. Because if he lets her go, he has nobody.

A lone sunken soul.

The packers truck got in half of his belongings, the remaining which will come tomorrow. It was difficult moving especially with one single person. His neighbours were all elderly, so surely, he could not ask anyone for help. Also, it was another reason he chose this locality, he could be alone while he knew he lived in a tightly knitted community filled with respected war veterans.

He was extremely taken aback when many of his neighbours offered him freshly cooked food and refreshments to get over the day. He was thankful. They knew about his past and still they accepted him and asked him to reach out if any help was needed.

Andy’s day went ahead unpacking his clothes first, which took his time. He wondered if he’d ever need the fashionable suits and ties, he wore to work. There was a job opening at a swimming instructor at the local community gym; all he needs are those Speedos. But nevertheless, he kept then all back, trying to keep his mind preoccupied in cleaning.

But all that effort seemed futile for every memory crashed down when he unpacked his wedding tux.

He felt too claustrophobic, buried his hand in his face. He no longer had a marriage. He no longer had anyone to look after.

He no longer had anyone to look after him.

But amidst all this chaos in his foggy mind, he hears a lovely toothy giggle of a child.

He peeks out of his window to see a young mother and her small son sitting in their backyard with a picnic spread in front of them, while the little boy kept tripping over the grass purposefully just so he could laugh and make his mother laugh too. Andy had no idea he had a middle-aged family living nearby.

Seeing you and the son spread this familiar warmth inside Andy, reminiscing how he had this. It reminded Andy of a happier time.

Soon to be replaced with anguish. He would never have that again. He missed feeling the warmth of family, the love of a wife. Life never really gave second chances he believed.

He noticed you, a caring mother placing the little one on your lap while you fed him all the scrumptious food. He didn’t fail to miss how your eyes shined with happiness. A happy woman is always a pretty woman at heart; it is something he used to tell himself. A soft chuckle left out of Andy’s lips as he saw the boy eat the food messily, but you seemed to be patient, responding lovingly towards his naughty antics.

Her husband is one lucky son of a bitch.

He could watch you two all day, but that would be extremely inappropriate. Right now, Andy wanted his newfound house to look like a home.

Next day went by and it didn’t seem like he was getting anywhere near getting his house ready. He was waiting for another truck to get more of his stuff while he sipped on some bear till the movers arrived. They unloaded most of his stuff at his lawn and went away.

“Need a hand moving those boxes?”

Andy turned around to a gentle voice of the same woman who had he had seen yesterday with the small child.

You.

A chilly afternoon, he wasn’t surprised you sporting a loose, fluffy knitted woollen pullover with black leggings. Your hair was tied up in a bun and then noticed that he was probably staring at you for a long time.

“Uh- No. I’m fine, thank you.”

But you kept standing there looking at him smirking. He was literally struggling to carry all those boxes “Your body language says something else.”

When he looked up you saw his sunken eyes with even more detail as though the man hasn’t slept in days, “Would I be desperate man if I said yes?”

You chuckled, “Not at all. I’m Y/N Y/LN.”

“Andrew Barber”, he stretched out his hand for a warm greeting with a firm handshake. The feeling of his rough palms sends small jitters to you, but you ignored it; and just like that you resumed.

You helped him lift the bigger boxes to his house even though you knew he carried most of the weight. Two could always get the work done sooner. Both of you didn’t talk much for these 20 minutes but it was a comfortable silence while both of you took sneaky glances at each other’s features.

When you neared him, you realized he was lot more than just handsome. Sunken face was holding two blue eyes that would be enticing if he had put any effort to put any life in them. His beard was neatly trimmed although scruffy, just like you saw yesterday.

Andy on the other hand was just too despondent to, you know, check you out. He thought you to be a beautiful woman with a kind heart, especially after seeing you and your son yesterday.

He even thought of asking you about your son and family, but that would be too intrusive he wondered.

Andy thought you’d leave after moving the boxes but you insisted you’d stay to help unpack his stuff and maybe cook some lunch for him since he didn’t even unpack his kitchen utensils out. He was ready to accept the help only for a second.

The Andrew Barber he knew before the events of the trial would have gladly accepted, maybe even made lunch for the beautiful lady, instead of you, who graciously offered him help. He was divorced now so there was nothing stopping him.

But do you really deserve a fresh start with a lady Andy?

Would she be here if she knew who you really were?

His mind was plagued. He moved here with the intention of a fresh start but, he wondered if anyone would actually accept him. He decided for himself that they wouldn’t.

“It’s alright Y/N. Thanks for your help.”

There was no way a man could set up his home all alone you thought. “Mr. Barber, are you sure? I really have no problem. I’m completely unoccupied at the moment. Besides Nikolai-”

“No.”

You blinked at his curt reply.

“I’m good Y/N. I can take care of the remaining stuff here. You can go now.”

Looking at him made you realise how conflicted he was. His words likely meant that he didn’t require your presence but his whole demeanour looked like just wanted some god damn company. He didn’t mind your help at first, but at the same time now he was pushing you away. What changed?

So much for making acquaintances with the new neighbour, you thought.

Without saying anything you stiffly nodded, Andy realizing the offence written all over your face, and saw you walk away from his abode closing his door politely.

It was probably for the best to keep distance from a kind woman like you. He knew you were trying to get acquainted with him like any normal person would, but Andy was firmly grounded that he and normalcy would never go back again.

The minute you left he opened another beer bottle to sink himself. This fresh start for Andy was just bullshit.

–

You rushed back the minute you closed Mr. Grumpy Cat’s door and made a beeline to your home, only to see your son playing on the countertop with one your elderly neighbour.

“Thank you, Mr. Arthur, for taking care of Nikolai. I hope he didn’t cause much trouble.”

“I’d do anything for you sweet pea, Nikolai was a sweetheart.” The old man chuckled and turned to leave, “By the way last weekend’s pot pie was delicious. I had to make it up to you.”

Returning a hug, you thanked your neighbour again and leaped your son in your arms, attacking him with kissed while he spurted giggles. “Mommy it tickles!”

“Guess what happened peaches? I met our new neighbour”

Nikolai clapped his hand “Mista Wandew Bahhba?”

Your son was hell bent on knowing the name of the newcomer after he laid his eyes on the stylish black Audi. Boys always know their toys.

You nodded, “He’s a grumpy man peaches. I have no idea what to do with him.” And just like that you began speaking with Nikolai. He was your only company to talk. He never really understood anything, but your talented son did a fairly good job of putting up a pretense to hear.

“I offered him help and he says yes. Then I kindly ask him if I can help him more, you know like cook homemade spaghetti. But instead he becomes snippy with me?”

“Woh no,” your son whispered to your exclamation, which in reality was for his superhero figurines falling on to the floor. “I like his cahr mommy.”

“So do I Niko, but I so do not like him,” you paused and gave him a kiss on the forehead, “Guess we’re the only sunshine in this neighbourhood peaches.”

—

Days went by and you rarely interacted with your new neighbour.

Oh and when it did, it really never went well for you.

The first time was when a few standard posts under the name of Mr. Barber arrived at your doorstep, since he wasn’t available at his house. Like any other hospitable neighbour, you signed the post and made sure to drop it by him when he gets back.

"Uh Mr. Barber the post man dropped this by at our doorstep since you weren’t available. I thought I should give it to you.”

Andy opened the door with a few knocks and saw you standing with a few posts in a fluffy cable knit sweater. He took the posts from you, gently brushing over your hands. He perused through them quickly and gave you that conflicted stern look.

“I appreciate it Mrs. Y/L/N, but next time I’d like to collect my own posts irrespective of its nature. You can tell them I can collect it from the post office”

Was this man for real?

You crossed your arms and gave him back that stern look too. He wasn’t going to get away without you throwing shade. “Oh you know Mr. Barber I was just trying to be a good neighbour. It’s not like I’m dying here to get associated with you.”

He gave you a nasty grin which triggered you to make you leave away from his threshold.

Andy thought for a moment that he already crossed the line with the wrong woman.

The next time you met him was probably the last time you would ever meet him.

Your shift at the library got too late, for you were the Librarian of the local Library. You didn’t have to worry much about picking up your son late for he was at Mr. Arthur’s.

But coming home realising that he was sitting on the front porch of Andrew’s house made you park your car haphazardly in your driveway and run up to your child, ignoring Andrew’s presence.

“I’m so sorry sweetie. What are you doing here Niko?”

Andy interrupted, “Mr. Arthur had to visit the hospital. He was catching the flu and he didn’t want to give it to Nikolai here.”

You didn’t want to meet his gaze, but you forced yourself for you were grateful for this kind gesture. Maybe this Grumpy Cat has a kind heart after all.

“Mr. Barber, thank you so much for taking care of Niko. My phone must’ve been on silent if Arthur wanted to contact me.”

“Oh, don’t thank me Mrs. Y/L/N. I am just filling in the gaps of irresponsible parenting.”

It felt like a blunt hit to your heart. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, you heard me.” he whispered so closely that you could smell his musky deodorant with a hint of beer. Your son was out of earshot, sipping on a glass of lemonade that was probably offered by this man. “Trust me I know what happens to a child that is always kept away from their caretakers.”

He quickly went on to say how Nikolai was a special child when your son came near you both and how your family should take more care in your child. You never really listened for your eyes threatened to pierce with tears. No way were you going to cry in front of this man.

“Thank you Mista Wandi.”

“Anytime buddy.”

He went up and shut the door, like it was a personal aimed at you.

And you just stood there feeling numb while Niko tugged on your work coat.

“Let’s go home Mommi.”

The audacity to tell you how to be a parent. Did he even have a child? Does he even know how to it is to take care of a child single handed?

But those questions never mattered. No matter how positive you are in life, its never nice to hear someone spew your flaws on to your face.

Meanwhile minutes passed when Andy soon realised how he had royally fucked up. Everyday around 5pm you and your child would come along to the backyard and have a snack ritual while both of you played or read story books. For Andy, though he chided himself for his stalking behaviour, it brought him a sense of peace to see your son scream with shrills of laughter when he ran around the lawn.

He had nothing against you, yet he was being selfish.

I be mean to her; I stay away from here. Simple.

Today however, Nikolai sat facing away from his ypu munching on freshly baked cookies while you sported a tear stained face. He felt a twinge when he saw you staring straight ahead with a blank stare while tears rolled down. His heart successfully sunked when he saw Nikolai trying to wipe your tears and hug you. Andrew then sat down dramatically on his chair when he saw you breakdown into your son’s fragile shoulders.

Apologies wouldn’t fix this. It would, but Andrew Barber the resilient thought that being obnoxiously rude to someone he wants to be close to will make them hate him.

He never thought it would hurt you.

He decided not to take any efforts in an apology; or it could take more than an apology.

—

A few weeks passed by and you tried your level best and succeeded in avoiding banters with Mr. Grumpy Cat. Whenever you saw him, a flurry of rage fell over you. Was it your mistake you were trying to be friendly to your only attractive neighbour?

Strike out attractive. A mean soul was never attractive.

Andrew Barber on the other hand dreaded what had happened; he was a little too late to the party to realise that your house had no male inhabitant, except for that one man who had made a visit.

He soon deduced that you were a single mother.

Too late rather Andy.

And when he recalled what he had said to you, he wanted you to slap him in the face. Hard enough to have a bruise that lasted for a year.

Nikolai and you always woke up late on a weekend morning. Both of you always shared and slept in the same room for Nikolai had regularly occurring nightmares.

You never realised but you and Niko woke up a small commotion outside your house, or probably his house.

Plus, the other day it so happened Nikolai’s father paid a terribly long visit, pleading you to take him back into your life. He felt apologetic for what he did. But that lingering memory was soon cut off by Grumpy Cat’s voice.

Knowing his tendencies to irate his neighbours, (or maybe just you exclusively) you ignored it and began serving late breakfast pancakes for your son. But you soon stopped when you heard a loud, hoarse bellow.

“GET OFF MY LAWN!”

You looked outside of your window to see a bunch of vans and the reporters standing outside Andy’s lawn. Niko ran up to you and carried him over your hip for the little one heard the scary yell too.

Andy’s car was parked haphazardly on the pavement. A pair or more of reporters were taking pictures of him and his vandalised garage door.

“Oh my god.”

You put down Niko and asked him to play with his toys. Yes, you hated Andrew but what you saw on his now tainted garage door made you want to retch. It was such a distasteful thing to do. It appeared as if a spray can paint was used to write whatever it was on the door:

MURDERER, YOU WILL ROT IN HELL TOO.

Andy crouched down on his knees, his hands covering his face and ruggedly running his hands through his hair, while he kneeled down in front of the vandalism.

The very reason he moved away from Newton was now on his garage door.

You wanted to go out and help him, but your ego wouldn’t let you. Why should you help a man who was nothing but mean to you all this while?

Luckily enough you saw Mr. Arthur and a couple of his old friends admonishing the press. They threatened that this community was filled with retired war veterans and that they would charge them for community trespassing and disrupting the lives of people who have lost a limb and more for this country.

Hearing that threat made the desperate amateur reporters leave from the vicinity as soon as possible.

Andy stood up and tried to process this whole situation, looking around for any sort of help, only to lay his eyes on the faint image you from your window.

You expected him to shout and rage and ask you to fuck off from staring at his pitiful state. But he didn’t. You would never forget those embarrassed sunken eyes, silently pleading for help.

He didn’t deserve this. You have no idea about his past or who he was to garner such attention, but this was just cruel. He soon averted from your gaze and went on to thank his fellow elderly friends and made his way inside home.

Later in the evening, you caught Andy scrubbing the ugly writings with cloth and soap water. After a while, he took a few steps behind and saw that they words were still there but faded.

“I had some grey paint for Nikolai’s nursery, but never got the chance to do it.”

Andy turned to that sweet voice of yours and hesitated in meeting your gaze. He was embarrassed, for you stood there, giving out an arm to help him again despite his foul behaviour. He saw little Nikolai standing behind you with his shabby brown hair that reminded him of Jacob, clutching onto your legs while he peaked at him. He didn’t understand what you mean by the whole nursery thing, but he stood up and finally, both of you took in each other’s gaze.

Andy’s eyes were even more sunken than he had when he arrived, his blue orbs sunk in a sea of red. He must have been crying. He saw you were missing your feisty eyes that you always sported. Maybe it’s because you despised him so much.

“It’s not the exact colour of your garage door but it can do the trick I suppose.”

The second you handed over the paint to him, you quickly turned around to head towards your home. But Andy didn’t want to push you further anymore by being a dick. He was ready to apologise.

“Hey please listen up! I really am s- “

“No no no,” your voice trembled; this habit of crying while you were angry was just exasperating you wondered, “I think its best we don’t hold conversation Mr. Barber. This will be probably my last interaction with you; what happened to you was horrid and ugly. You don’t deserve that. That much I know”

Andy was hesitant, embarrassed. “Mrs. Y/L/N- “

“Quit calling me a missus! I am not even fucking married anymore-” you said drawing quotes in the air, to be interrupted by a little tug at your coat. You realised that your kid was standing next to you. And you swore in front of him. Great parenting.

“Oh Niko,” you picked him up and peppered him with a few kisses, “Sorry for that language. Mommy won’t swear again okay. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah”, the kid nodded and buried his head into your neck and hugging you tightly.

"Let’s go, sweetie. I’m done with this man.”

As you went away the little boy who was wrapped around over your shoulder waved with his short hands to Andy. To Nikolai, Andy was the one who had the coolest car and made the best lemonade (which he had when he was made to wait for his mom). He never really understood the intensity of adults’ arguments. He was just a grateful child.

It was only then Andy realised he had to make it up to you by any means for he stood there alone feeling like a real douchebag with a paint can in his hands.

—

Part 2

—

Taglist (IS OPEN): @sinner-as-saint @captainscanadian, @kakakatey @bluevelvetsam

@mrsbarneswillseeyounow

@anqelicstarc @lcandothisallday @https-bucky @readermia @chrisevansforever @ruthyalva96 @thedarkplume @sammyfresh @bloglovelylady @stuckys-dirty-girl @rindaastridfreakinreign @buckys-plums3 @marvelouspottering @sweetlittlegingy @emilykjhgsj @poppunkdork @bval-1lovepeacefood

@captainchrisstan @hista-girl @xlanawriter

@denisemarieangelina @xoxabs88xox @adreamemporium @yoncevans @oceanlenny @ididntchoosethislife @evansinlove @ninaminaromina @sodonutnutnut @nickysurfer28 @captainchrisstan @charmed-asylum @lovepeacefood @trashboggart

#Andy Barber #defending jacob #Andy Barber x Reader #Andy Barber Imagines #Chris evans x reader #chris evans imagines #defending jacob spoilers #andy barber smut #andy barber fluff #chris evans #chris evans x you #andy barber imagine #andy barber angst #defending jacob finale #jacob barber #andrew barber

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novelconcepts · 3 years

Text

fic: having so much fun all alone (i wanna let somebody know)

Control never seems so important until it’s being slowly, inexorably stripped away. Jamie finds she’s been thinking about this concept more and more as the days go by, and it’s almost fascinating. It interests her, thinking about the concept of control--not the control of another person, but control of the self. Of a person’s own body, own mind, own future.

Control had seemed a simple thing before Dani, so absent from her childhood that Jamie taught herself to seek it out the minute she had the option. It didn’t always go well. There is a fine line between wanting control over a situation and the desperate desire to feel something, anything; it had taken her too long to discover the difference. Jail time had impacted the idea something fierce, reducing the notion of control from a childish impulse toward what I want, when I want it to something smaller. Easier to fit in the palm of her hand. Control became, instead, the simplicity of keeping herself to herself.

People can’t control you if they don’t understand you, she’d reasoned. People can’t control what you do, say, want, if you never let them in. And, to a point, it had worked. Jamie’s adult life became marked by a certain kind of quiet freedom, an awareness of her own limits. She learned to keep to herself. She learned to give no part of herself away.

And then Dani had happened. Dani, whose own relationship with control was tenuous at best. Dani, whose life up until this point had been very much marked by other people’s control over her body, her dreams, her right to love.

Jamie hadn’t meant to give her control, just as Dani hadn’t meant to ask it of her. There had been no part of the exchange intended for pain, for holding one another hostage--and Jamie knows that is the only reason it happened at all. The only reason either of them--two people so used to the shackles of other people’s expectations--were willing to let the dance begin. This mutual understanding that control is only granted so lovingly because the other person will not abuse the privilege, will not turn their grasp into a cuff.

It hadn’t been simple, exactly, so much as natural. Give and take. Dani’s ghosts for Jamie’s regrets; Jamie’s scars for Dani’s still-bleeding wounds. In a way, Jamie thinks, the idea of passing control over their life together back and forth was appealing because it was the first time either of them understood how to communicate. The first time Dani had ever learned how to speak her needs in someone else’s space; the first time Jamie had ever thought someone might actually be listening in return. Not simple. Not easy. Organic, though--very much that.

It has been...an evolution, certainly. There are things Dani is carrying Jamie can’t take off her shoulders--things Dani bears with the stoic acceptance of one already a little bit gone. Jamie tries not to think about it that way, tries not to look into Dani’s eyes and think, Not quite the woman I met. She’s in there, she’s still looking back at me, but there’s something else, too.

Dani thinks that something else will, one day, supersede her. Will, one day, take the wheel in a way Dani will not be able to ward off.

Dani thinks, someday, the question of control will have nothing at all to do with their relationship, with the bond built so carefully and so firmly between them, but rather to do with the thing in the mirror. She says as much to Jamie some nights, her hand tangled in Jamie’s hair, her breathing soft and steady against Jamie’s skin. Says, in a voice so weary, Jamie can’t bear it: “I don’t know what I’ll do, then. I don’t know what will be left of me when she wakes.”

Jamie can only take her hand in these moments, the ones she knows will pass by morning--the ones Dani will pretend not to remember by the end of the week. It’s still early-days, she tells herself, bringing Dani’s fingers to her lips as she did in a bedroom across an ocean. It’s still new, and fresh, and there’s nothing saying it will happen at all.

One day at a time.

In the meantime, there are other thoughts of control. Thoughts she finds considerably more pleasurable, considerably more safe. Thoughts of what Dani truly needs some days, to remind her who is still in the driver’s seat of her life.

Jamie is more than happy to help.

***

The day has not been bad so much as long, and Jamie finds herself dragging home with a gently thrumming headache. It’s sometimes still more than she can wrap her head around: the shop, where the hours are her own to set, and the apartment, where every inch of space is open to her, and Dani, who fits into both places so perfectly, Jamie has trouble thinking back to a time without her. The world they’ve built together is warm, constantly waiting to welcome her home, and Jamie doesn’t know if she deserves it. Doesn’t know if there is such a thing as deserve. She knows only that she is lucky.

And that even the luckiest soul needs a break.

“Medicine,” Dani had advised, her expression concerned as Jamie prepared to leave the shop. “A hot shower. Uh. A cold compress.”

“Be fine,” Jamie murmured, glancing around for customers. Not a soul to be found, she pressed a kiss lightly to Dani’s lips. “Shame you can’t join me. Can think of one thing that tends to help nice and quick.”

Dani’s face lit with visible warmth, as Jamie had known it would. “I--you--”

“Easy,” Jamie said, kissing her again. “I’m only teasing, Poppins.”

“Right,” Dani said, a bit hoarsely, her arm sliding instinctively around Jamie’s waist. “Exactly. Rude to tease when I’m already worried for your health.”

“My health’ll be just fine as soon as I get home and into bed,” Jamie told her. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll just, ah, handle it myself?”

“Tease,” Dani repeated in a low, fervent whisper, even as the bell above the door chimed. Jamie tipped her a wink.

It’s always fun making Dani turn new colors, but she hadn’t been kidding--about the headache or the proposed solution. Little aggravations tend to slip away to nothing with Dani present, Dani’s hands searching her skin, Dani kissing her until she forgets any minor aches or pains. Of course, until they hire additional staff, Dani can’t really afford to join her in the middle of the afternoon just because she’s Jamie’s favorite form of migraine therapy.

Not so bad, anyway, she thinks, even as she takes Dani’s advice piece by piece in the empty apartment. Medicine, a nice tall glass of water, a shower so long it ceases to be productively hot midway through. She stands with her face against the comparatively-cool tile, trying not to think of Dani’s expression as she’d said tease under her breath, Dani’s grip on her shirt threatening to remain as Jamie slipped out from behind the counter.

Should just sleep, she thinks, changing into shorts and one of Dani’s shirts. Sleep it off, sure. Better for the whole system. She’ll just lay down for an hour or two, letting the cool of the sheets soothe the warmth of her skin as she remembers the mingled longing and worry in Dani’s face as she’d walked away. Just close her eyes, letting the steady pound in her temples lull her...lull her...

“Fuck,” she mutters, rolling onto her stomach and pressing her face into Dani’s pillow. What does it matter; anything that’ll banish this throb is worth a shot, and anyway, there’s something about the way Dani had watched her go she can’t erase. Something about the way Dani’s lips had lifted ever so slightly, the way they do when Dani wants nothing more than to remind Jamie how glad she is--how glad she’ll always be--that Jamie stayed in her life.

Just take care of it, she tells herself with the air of brushing her hands clean. The idea of Dani watching her, the idea of Dani missing her, is too strong to ignore. Just Jamie’s luck, to be the having the sort of day where a headache and a painfully strong desire to bring Dani to bed collide.

She realizes belatedly her hips are already moving without the rest of her noticing, rocking slowly against the mattress, and she sighs. Won't be enough. Won’t be nearly what it would with Dani beneath her, dragging her nails down Jamie’s back, a thigh flexing between Jamie’s legs. Still--the image isn’t nothing. Dani’s pillow smells of her shampoo, the one Jamie never uses because it should be Dani’s, should remind her of Dani whenever Dani isn’t around. She presses her face against it now, lips parted in a sigh, gripping the sheets in loose fingers.

She’d intended to be quick and dirty with it, a true resolution followed by actual sleep, but her body has other opinions on the matter. Her body, it seems, wants full control of the situation--wants her full attention on the idea of Dani thinking of her at the shop. Dani, moving among the arrangements, picking flowers, chatting with strangers, all the while thinking of Jamie here. Of Jamie having mentioned a hot shower. Of Jamie beneath the spray, one hand sliding down her breasts, the other between her legs.

Dani, thinking of her for the next hour, her breath coming in sharp little pants she’ll try to hide behind her smile. Dani, pressing her hips furtively against the counter in the empty shop, closing her eyes for a moment and wishing she could have followed Jamie home.

This’ll do it. Her grip tightens on the sheets, her legs spreading slightly. It’s all too easy to imagine Dani going slightly mad, working faster in an effort to distract herself. Easy to imagine Dani’s hands pushing back her hair the way she does when she’s most frustrated--or when she’s astride Jamie, rolling her hips to match Jamie’s pace. She breathes through the image, the perfect memory of the last time Dani had, in the middle of a movie, climbed into Jamie’s lap and kissed her like she’d been wanting to do so for hours.

Why wait? Jamie had laughed, and Dani had given a happy breathy sigh against her lips.

It’s better with the anticipation, don’t you think?

“Yes,” Jamie mumbles into the pillow now. The anticipation, that’s the trick of it. Can’t go straight for the thing, can’t just let her hand slide between shorts and skin like she wants. If Dani can’t have her at work, Jamie ought to be polite enough to hold herself out of reach here, too.

Already, she can feel the headache ebbing away, replaced by the adrenaline of pure desire. She presses herself against the mattress, enjoying the way the seam of her shorts moves against slick skin. She wonders, dimly, how long she could keep this up--how long she could hold herself in this limbo, biting down on Dani’s pillow to keep quiet, rocking at this leisurely pace. Could she do it until Dani gets home? Could this be how she greets a Dani pent-up from missing her: holding what she wants at arm’s length just until Dani comes to check in on her?

The idea nearly makes her shudder: Dani, stepping into the room just in time to catch her like this, rutting against the mattress and sighing Dani’s name. Dani, walking in just in time to watch her come apart.

Control, she thinks, forcing her speeding hips to slow again. Forcing herself to wait until she’s confident she won’t lose her patience, take a hand off the sheets, press up and in until she’s--

“Couldn’t wait for me at all?” Dani asks, and Jamie gives a leap of guilty surprise, twisting to look over her shoulder. Dani is, in fact, leaning in the doorway. Dani is, in fact, looking at her exactly as she’d been imagining: her eyes dancing, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. Jamie presses her burning face against the pillow, closing her eyes.

“I--hi.”

“Hi,” Dani says. She’s still just standing there, Jamie senses, in her jacket and boots. Just watching Jamie try to smother mild embarrassment on Dani’s side of the bed. “Oh, don’t stop on my account.”

“I wasn’t--” Oh, there’s no bloody point. “Headache’s gone.”

“Good,” Dani says mildly. “Then I won’t feel bad about what I’m about to do.”

Jamie darts another look over her shoulder, curious despite the mortification sending ripples through her arousal. “Why do I get the feeling I’m in trouble?”

“Not trouble.” Dani slips out of her coat like this is a perfectly normal conversation. Like there’s nothing out of the ordinary at all going on. She leans against the wall, removing her boots with the casual disinterest of a woman who has not just walked in on Jamie grinding against their bed.

“Dunno if I believe you,” Jamie says, a bit breathlessly. Dani smiles.

“What’s not to believe? You told me exactly what you were heading home to do...and, if you didn’t happen to do it fast enough, well...”

Fuck, thinks Jamie, her heart rate--which has not precisely calmed since Dani’s arrival--ratcheting back to full speed. She rolls onto her back, sits up, aware of the throbbing heat between her legs even as she pulls the sheets higher.

“Dani...”

“Mm?” Dani is still moving with the grace of someone in absolutely no hurry to explain herself. As Jamie watches, she removes her earrings, sets them in a bowl on her dresser. Removes her watch, lays it beside the bowl. Reaches up to unbind the tie she must have used in Jamie’s absence, irritated with her hair falling into her eyes as she worked.

“Dani, are you--”

“I’m wondering,” Dani says, “why you didn’t work harder at it.”

Jamie’s mouth is suddenly very dry. “Work...harder?”

“If you wanted to take care of it yourself,” Dani says. She’s walking closer now, almost strolling; Jamie draws in a breath, her hands bunching around the sheet. There’s something about Dani this calm, Dani moving with this kind of easy indolence, that makes her stomach do funny things. This version of Dani is one no one else ever sees. This version of Dani comes out with purpose.

Usually a very particular purpose.

She’s climbing onto the bed now, sliding under the sheet to recline against Jamie’s side of the headboard. Her expression is cool, but there’s a light in her eyes Jamie couldn’t miss even with that headache still thrashing away, a certain bright hunger specific to this room, this sort of situation, Jamie.

“So, I’m thinking, if you didn’t want to take care of it enough to do it fast,” Dani says, patiently parsing it out as she adjusts Jamie’s pillows behind her back, smooths her hands across the sheet over her lap, “there was a reason, right? You always have reasons, Jamie.”

She’s right, Jamie thinks with helpless attraction. Even now, playing whatever thrilling little game Dani has cooked up since arriving home, Dani understands her. Understands, maybe, more than Jamie even realized in this particular situation.

“I’m thinking about it,” Dani says, folding the sheet down once--again--pulling it down the bed until it’s barely covering either of them at all. “And the most I can come up with is...you wanted me here for it. Is that about right?”

Jamie grins, though her skin prickles in the chill of the air-conditioned room. “Always, Poppins.”

Dani nods, making a show of it, like there isn’t a fire burning low in her belly just now. Like she didn’t catch Jamie in the act and want to join her. Like her eyes aren’t blazing with that exact desire just now, pupils blown wide, dragging down Jamie’s body to drink her in.

“You wanted me to watch.”

“Uh huh,” Jamie says, because whether it was true at the start doesn’t matter; it’s true now. “Or, y’know--since you’re here. Can always join in.”

Dani seems to consider it. One hand trails up Jamie’s thigh, toying lightly with the hem of her shorts. Jamie moves to twist at the waist, to shift into Dani’s lap and kiss her lips--and Dani’s hand rises, catching her by the front of her t-shirt.

“You wanted me to watch,” she says, leaning in until the words are tracing Jamie’s lips. She does not, Jamie notes with a low groan of frustration, actually make contact. “So. Show me.”

Jamie swallows. “I--uh--just--”

“Here,” Dani adds, spreading her legs. She pats the mattress, a signal for Jamie to settle between them and lean back against her chest. Jamie draws a ragged breath.

“Really think this could go faster if you just let me help you out of those clothes.”

“Think you’re right,” Dani agrees, and gives the mattress another firm pat. Jamie moves, dreamlike, where she’s been directed. Sits back, her hands uncertain of where to land.

“Dani, honestly, I want--”

“You had a whole hour,” Dani says, “to get what you wanted. Now it’s my turn.”

Fuck, Jamie thinks again, a fresh surge of need clenching in her stomach. She turns her head, leans until she can see Dani’s expression clearly.

“Maybe I didn’t start right away. Maybe I’d only been at it a minute.”

“You weren’t.” Dani smiles, the sort of smile she tends to wear immediately before kneeling between Jamie’s legs and offering a thorough distraction from their nightly routine. “I was there a while before you noticed.”

“And you didn’t speak up?” Years together, Jamie thinks. Years together, with no shortage of good sex between them, but this side of Dani is special. This side of Dani, the one perfectly in control of a situation, is to be cherished. “Just stood there, huh? Watched the show?”

“Thought you’d finish fast,” Dani says. She’s got Jamie’s right hand in her own, turning it over to inspect Jamie’s fingers, to trace a nail down Jamie’s palm. “Thought I’d come in just in time for the grand finale. But then I saw your hands.”

“What about them?” There’s challenge in her voice, pushing up against Dani’s calm. It’s always best this way, giving Dani a bit of resistance before she surrenders. Dani scratches a little harder, drawing a thin red line to match the ones grooved into Jamie’s palm.

“You weren’t using them. You weren’t using anything. I thought that was interesting. Why not touch yourself, if you really wanted to take care of things properly?”

Jamie is struggling to keep her breath, struggling to keep from leaning that last little bit to press her mouth to Dani’s neck. That, she senses, is not the right move. That, she senses, will get her in trouble--and she’d really rather see where this is going.

“I realized,” Dani is saying, turning Jamie’s hand over and mapping her knuckles with slow, tracing circles. “You were actually trying to make it last. Trying to go as slowly as you possibly could. Driving yourself crazy, I bet.”

“Yes,” Jamie says, unable to stop herself. She pushes back, aware of Dani’s body, of how warm she is.

“I’m curious,” Dani says, applying light pressure to Jamie’s hand, steering it toward Jamie’s body. “How long do you think you can last?”

“Dani--”

“Only...if you want me to watch...” Dani smiles again, the smile that says she’d like nothing better than to drive Jamie out of her mind. “I really think I want a show.”

She’s dragging Jamie’s hand slowly down her own breasts, tracing down her taut stomach, pausing at the waistband of her shorts. Jamie holds her breath, waiting for Dani to slide with her beneath the band, waiting for Dani to use her hand as she sees fit--but Dani presses her farther down, curling around Jamie’s fingers as they cup together between Jamie’s legs over the loose material. And then she’s gone, leaving Jamie in place, her hand moving to rest on Jamie’s hip.

“Go on,” she says against Jamie’s ear, her free hand shifting Jamie’s hair aside so her lips can graze skin. “Show me.”

Jamie groans, letting the palm of her hand press hard against the heat pulsing through her shorts. She moves her hips, aware of the need she’s been cultivating for far too long already--

“Slowly,” Dani says into her ear. “You go until I say you’ve had enough.”

Jamie slumps back against her, boneless, a small noise escaping her lips. “I--fuck--rules?”

Dani gives the ridge of her ear a gentle nip, the barest scrape of her teeth. Jamie shivers. “That’s it. Go slow. Make all the noise you need, but remember: you are done when I say you’re done.”

Control, thinks Jamie, understanding, and knowing this is something Dani needs as much as she does. She licks her lips, drags her hand slowly against the front of her shorts. It would be so easy to rebel, so easy to wrench back from Dani what has been given to her--she could make herself come in no time at all, after all this.

She turns her head, finds Dani watching her face with avid interest. She closes her eyes.

“Slow,” she repeats, a promise. Her fingers slide across the soft material, tracing as though she has all the time in the world. Dani’s chin rests on her shoulder, her lips grazing through Jamie’s shirt once before she settles in.

“Oh, and Jamie? Make it good.”

Jamie strangles another groan, too aware that letting herself go this early will have dire consequences. She cups lightly, the heel of her hand pushing against painfully throbbing nerves. Her fingers continue their soft work, index trailing down, circling where it would much rather be pressing in.

“Good,” Dani says softly. She slides an arm around Jamie, spreading her hand low on her stomach, her eyes devouring Jamie’s tentative progress. Jamie leans her head back, breathing shallowly, trying to think desperately of flowers, of buds in bloom, of open petals and--

Nope, she thinks hastily, as her hips give a particularly sharp jerk. She pauses, closing her eyes, searching for solid ground before she can tumble.

“Very good,” Dani adds, sounding impressed. “See, you’re doing great already.”

“Want you,” Jamie mutters. Dani gives her ear another nip.

“Show me, then.”

It’s a balancing act, Jamie finds, letting her hips set a slow rhythm against the flex of her hand. A nice, easy balancing act, with her head braced back against Dani’s shoulder, every inhalation filling her senses with the scent of Dani, the push-pull of Dani drawing breath against her back, the trace of Dani’s fingernails across her stomach. A nice, easy, not-at-all-breaking-her balancing act.

“I think you’re ready to step it up,” Dani says. Jamie, who has been trying to ride the friction of her own palm as minimally as she can stand, gives her a searching look. “I think it’s too easy on you. I think you need more.”

“More,” Jamie repeats. Dani’s hand is slinking lower again, grasping the band of Jamie’s shorts and lifting. Her free hand covers Jamie’s, pressing with sudden strength once between Jamie’s legs. “Fuck, Dani.”

“Not quite yet,” Dani says pleasantly, that too-nice voice she uses when she’s actively working to drive Jamie up the wall. It’s more effective than it has any right to be, Jamie thinks, though she's smiling, her body already desperate.

She watches, her muscles loose to allow Dani full control, as Dani slides their joined hands higher, tucks Jamie’s hand into her shorts. Her fingers remain tight around the waistband, pulling it aloft and down until she gives herself a proper view of exactly where Jamie’s fingers rest.

“There,” Dani says with dangerous pleasure. “Keep going.”

Jamie wants to twist, wants to capture her lips in a hard, brazen kiss. Instead, she lets her fingers resume their work--pressing in slow, careful circles against herself. She can hear the slick slide, the soft wet sound of skin on skin, and her stomach clenches with the near-painful urge to finish. She pauses.

“Don’t think I told you to stop,” Dani says. Jamie bites down hard on her own lip. Her wrist turns, her fingers rubbing lightly--then harder, her desire sparking hard against Dani’s command. She works the throbbing little bundle of nerves between two fingers, her breath sharp, her free hand searching out Dani’s thigh to dig her nails into denim.

“Fuck--Dani--I can’t--”

“Can,” Dani corrects. “So good, Jamie. You’re doing so well. Show me how much you can take.”

The words are low, calm, but Dani’s body is beginning to betray her, too; Jamie can feel the way her fingers are driving into Jamie’s hip, can see the tremble in the hand pulling at the shorts. Most of all, she can feel Dani beginning to rock slowly against her, her hips pushing up into Jamie in search of friction of her own.

“Could be touching you,” Jamie hisses, urged into a better station of control simply by the knowledge Dani wants her to give in. “Could be three fingers deep by now, giving you--”

“You’re giving me exactly what I need,” Dani breathes. Jamie hears her own words coil into a soft moan, her hips beginning to buck. Dani’s fingers squeeze around her hipbone, dragging sharp red marks under the pulled-aside waistband. “Ride it out. Do what I tell you.”

Jamie grits her teeth, every muscle in her body tightening against the urge to lose control. Her hand is quickening, her fingers stroking and slipping and pressing until she’s certain she’s going to break. The friction is too much, every circle drawn tight around herself snapping a little more self-restraint.

“Longer,” Dani whispers into her ear. She wraps her lips around Jamie’s earlobe, sucking hard enough for Jamie’s eyes to roll back. “Don’t give up on me yet.”

“Please,” Jamie hears herself whine, even as she obediently increases the pressure. “Please, I can’t--”

“Faster,” Dani says. “Come on, be good, be good for me, you’re so--”

She makes a noise, low and desperate, a spark of electricity straight to Jamie’s core. She’s grinding herself against Jamie, her hand gripping hard to Jamie’s hip for purchase. Jamie rubs faster, feeling as though she will lose this game, she will certainly not make it much further, and finding she doesn’t actually care as long as Dani is holding her this way.

She loses herself in Dani’s voice, Dani saying with the rapid-fire recklessness of staggering toward the edge herself, “Inside. Inside, I want to see--” Dani, pulling the shorts sharply down now, allowing Jamie to spread for herself, watching as Jamie slides two fingers deep, pressing hard with the heel of her hand.

“So good,” Dani mutters, “so good. Keep going. Make it last. It’s my mouth, imagine it’s my mouth, my tongue you’re riding, god, Jamie--”

Control, thinks Jamie, aware she’s losing it fast, aware there is little left that her body can possibly take even as Dani bites down hard on her shoulder. Imagine, Dani had said, like she isn’t right there, like she couldn’t be shifting Jamie out of her lap, sliding down her body, replacing Jamie’s hand with long, slow strokes of her tongue.

But that isn’t what Dani wants. This is what Dani wants, to hold Jamie, to watch her finish the work she started wishing Dani could see. Dani knows all too well what this is doing to her; she can feel it in the cant of Dani’s hips, hear it in the sound she’s muffling against Jamie’s shirt.

“Tell me,” she begs, as her muscles clench around her thrusting fingers. “Tell me, I won’t--I won’t until you--”

“How much,” Dani asks, her voice shaking with effort. “How much do you want it?”

Jamie curses, straining away from the edge. “You know,” she pants. “You know I--”

“How much,” Dani says directly into her ear, her hands digging into Jamie’s hips, “did you want it to be me all along?”

“Always,” Jamie breathes, the word a high, helpless plea. “Always, fuck, from the very start. Please, please, I--it’s you--it’s you--”

“Yes,” Dani agrees. “Show me how it feels.”

Jamie adds a third finger on yes, allowing her body at last to clench and shudder. It’s Dani, she thinks, turning her head and muffling her ecstatic cry against Dani’s neck. She can feel Dani’s grip tightening, pulling at her as Dani spreads further, rocks with sharp, needy thrusts while Jamie’s body chases the height of her orgasm.

It’s Dani, she thinks again, Dani pushing in deep, Dani riding it out, Dani in control, this is all for--all for--

And then there is no thought at all, nothing but Dani crying out as she squeezes a hand over Jamie’s and feels for herself what she’s done. Nothing left but Dani’s name on her lips as Jamie arches, eyes closed, feeling very much as though she is no longer in possession of a body at all.

She slumps against Dani, breath coming in short waves, her head clear of anything except the residual electricity from Dani’s fingers threading through her own. She exhales, rolling her eyes to watch Dani’s face.

“Good show?”

Dani makes a muffled sound a bit like a whimper, her hips still twitching as though out of her control. Jamie shifts with some effort, breaking contact, leaving her rocking against nothing at all.

“You’re still hanging on? Well. That won't do.”

She tugs at Dani’s shirt, catching her in a hard kiss that seems only to draw Dani’s urgency higher. Dani’s hands are scrambling to pull Jamie back into her lap, and Jamie allows herself to be positioned. She lowers herself with a groan, loving the dark marks she’s leaving behind on Dani’s jeans as she presses flat against her tense thigh.

“Ride it with me,” she insists, pushing her own knee hard between Dani’s legs. Dani’s head thumps back against the headboard, her hand anchored at Jamie’s back, watching with glazed eyes as Jamie provides friction to both of them with each rough grind.

It’s a graceless thing, and yet, perfectly matched--Dani gripping at her shirt, Dani pushing up into her as she rocks down, and, this time, Jamie finds the force shattering. She’s wrapped around Dani, hands clawing into Dani’s hair, down her back, hips pumping, even as she feels Dani begin the age-old sign of falling apart: Dani, repeating her name as an endless mantra, over and over.

Control, she thinks, as she’s losing the last of it all over again, as Dani is joining her with a long, shuddering kiss. What little good it does, when it is held too tightly. What little grace it offers, when not shared.

“I should, ah, call next time?” she breathes as Dani wraps both arms around her, squirming down the bed until they're lying in a sweaty heap. “Maybe just...set up in the back and wait for you to join me?”

Dani laughs. “If you did that, we’d never leave.”

“Perfectly content with never leaving here, either, if that’s how we’re going to play it.” Jamie leans back, reaching down to brush her fingers across the ruined leg of Dani’s jeans. “Made a mess of you.”

“It was mutual,” Dani teases. She closes her eyes, draws in a long breath that turns to a yawn. “How is your head, for real?”

“Good as new. All beasts banished back to whence they came.” Jamie winces, peering at Dani’s face for sign of shutdown, but Dani’s expression is placid.

“Good. I still think you should start with medicine.”

“Took medicine!” Jamie protests. “Did all the goddamn tricks. Not my fault this works best.”

“I think you just say that,” Dani says, “to get me naked.”

“Well, not doing a good goddamn job of it, am I?” Jamie sits up, gesturing broadly. “Still wearing every last fucking stitch.”

“Mm,” Dani agrees. “Maybe you should...do something about that?”

Jamie is still laughing when Dani pushes her onto her stomach, stretching out almost flush against her back. Her breath catches, something about the press of denim against her bare legs, the way Dani’s sliding the t-shirt Jamie stole from her side of the closet up her back making her feel deliciously undone. The idea of Dani, fully-dressed, pressing her half-naked body into the mattress draws a long shudder through her.

“Unless you’re tired,” Dani adds, her hand curling around Jamie’s hips, sliding teasingly toward soaked, swollen skin. Jamie groans into the pillow, gripping the sheets in one hand, reaching back for a grasp on Dani’s jeans with the other. Dani’s hand, pushed between damp sheets and sticky skin, strokes her once, testing. She kisses the back of Jamie’s neck, rolling her tongue over the chain of Jamie’s necklace, drawing it between her teeth.

“This is,” Jamie pants, even as Dani is playing her exactly as she’d watched Jamie work herself over, “exceptionally unbalanced.”

“Then do something about it,” Dani teases, kissing along her shoulder. Jamie, somehow, finds herself quite without the will to fight back. There is nowhere she’d rather be than angling herself toward Dani’s hand, seeking the firm, rough stroke of Dani’s fingers.

Tonight, she reasons, is Dani’s turn. She’ll turn the tables some other time, when Dani isn’t itching for this exact thing, this exquisite dynamic: when the ability Jamie gives her to tell Jamie exactly what to do, exactly what she needs of her, isn’t the most important gift she could grant.

Later, she’ll pin Dani to the wall or the counter, tease her until Dani is wild for her. It’s only fair, and Jamie knows it won’t take long at all for the power to change hands again when it’s done.

“Stay with me,” Dani commands, rocking against Jamie with one authoritative motion even as her fingers sink deep and Jamie gasps.

“Always,” she promises, feeling luckier than she could possibly explain.

#the haunting of bly manor #the haunting of bly manor spoilers #fanfiction #dani x jamie #jamie x dani #this one is decidedly R rated #and started as a genuine exploration of a concept before just...casually developing into a distinctly plotless atmosphere #I make no apologies #control one-shots #(I'm making a hefty assumption about myself with that last tag we'll see if it sticks)

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stevenbasic · 3 years

Photo

Looking at the IG of one of the new applicants, Dr J thinks: What's this one's story?

About a year ago, huh..?

...

The reunion was in full swing, and Angie sipped the straw of her vodka tonic, alone for the moment at the edge of the crowd, watching him. She’d come into the evening like she did into most crowds: thinking she was the smartest person in the room. True, it’s not like she’d ended up top of her class - it’d been ten years since graduating from Middlesex High with these morons - or had found herself at a top-tier college. She totally could have, she always thought, if she had really wanted to. She just never put in the effort, it hadn’t meant enough to her. But she could have been valedictorian, for sure, right? And gone to an ivy-league? She just never set her mind to it, she told herself. Plus, back then, she didn’t have the tits...

Angie Wade was, certainly, what most people would call a “late bloomer”. Not only had her academic and career successes mainly come after her teen years in High School - she’d graduated with Honors from Bowling Green, got her Masters, and now managed two (soon to be three) branches of KLG Bank - but her figure had taken some time to come in, also. When she had graduated, she had been a mostly forgettable member of the drama club, the thin, unremarkable brunette with the big forehead. But, soon, things changed. Since high school she’d put on - haha - nearly thirty pounds, the majority of it generously deposited into the fleshy curves she’d squeezed into this low-cut black top and tight, tight knee-length white skirt. She wanted these people - him especially - to see what had become of Angie Wade, to realize what they had missed. And, the evening had gone predictably. Most of the girls, even some she’d been friendly with in school, either wanted nothing to do with her or treated her with snobby derision - fuck them. Because every guy she’d spoken to tonight had been very keen to chat. Most had given her at least a fleeting glance down her top, and many could barely keep from staring. But she hadn’t talked to AJ Shaw yet....

...and he was right over there.

...

AJ stood at the banquet hall’s bar, idly stirring his bacardi and coke, while Megan Rommety chatted animatedly in his left ear. He’d learned, among a prattling twenty minutes’ worth of other things, that she was a recent divorcee (“her decision”, to hear her tell it) She was trying to flirt with him, he had no doubt. He had been excited about coming to this thing, the 10-year reunion for his Middlesex High School Class. He still hung out, pretty regularly, with some friends from the football team; he’d even hired a couple to work on his construction team. He still touched base with old girlfriends from time-to-time, Facebook or wherever; it was cool to see them with kids and flirt with them behind their husbands’ backs. But maybe there’d be some people from out of town to catch up with. Like Megan here: they’d been in a couple classes together, she’d dated a friend of his, been on the tennis team. She was nice to see, for the first few minutes, but now she was beginning to overstay her welcome in the seat next to him. “...anyway, after I kicked Brad out, I sold the house and bought my own condo down by the lake,” Megan was saying, stirring the ice cube in her chardonnay, “sooooo nice. Real hardwood floors, a view. You just have to come see it! In fact, kids are at my mom’s tonight and…” WHoahhh...Who was THAT?

“Yeah, I uh….” he said Wearing a black, low-cut top that revealed an impressive bulge of soft, creamy cleavage, she was smiling over at him, from across the room. In fact, “smile” might have been too soft of a word. There was something dramatic about the look she was giving him, something….yikes. His stomach fluttered and everything Megan was saying was being droned out, dissolving to just a buzz on his left. Taking a sip of her drink, this woman held his eye contact for an uncomfortably long time, before she began to strut over towards him. My god, AJ thought, that is a strut. Straight back and proud, each step in her killer heels brought a new jiggle to her chest and an extra sway to her hips in her tight, white skirt. This was a woman who knew how to walk, he could see that for sure, and draw eyes to herself. Was this someone from his class?? He had forgotten that he was in the middle of a sentence, a conversation. Hell, he practically forgot where he was. He’d kinda found that happening, recently. Pretty women seemed to throw him off base more easily than they used to. Ones with boobs, especially. “Hiya, remember me?” she said, sidling up to the bar and unceremoniously boxing Megan out. He tried to keep his eyes up, on her face, on her wide, wide smile. He knew he would look like an asshole if his eyes dropped to her tits….but it was a struggle. “I…uh” he began, as his mind began to work. He was usually so good at this! He felt like he knew everybody from his class, or at least everyone important. Especially the hot ones! But he was having trouble remembering this one, her name. Her face was sorta familiar, but he certainly didn’t recognize those curves from high school. “Uhmmmm…”

“Angie Wade?” Megan interjected, from half-behind the newcomer.

Oh yeah, Angela Wade.

“Angie Wade?” AJ finally managed, lights beginning to click on, “You were in drama club, right?” “That’s me!” Angie beamed, biting her lower lip flirtatiously, “You DO remember me!” He...he did remember her, yes, Angie. But certainly not like this. The Angie Wade he remembered had been...skinny. Maybe not quite a dork, but not someone with whom he’d ever associate. If he recalled, his friends had told him she’d been an admirer of his. God, if he’d known she’d grow up into this...wow, she really grew a pair. “Excuse me,” Megan piped in, pushing her short, coiffed-blonde hair behind her ear, “We...were in the middle of a conversation?” Obviously annoyed, Megan could see how AJ’s attention had suddenly been drawn to Angie Wade and her big new tits. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Angie responded, not bothering to hide a note of condescension. She shifted to unblock Megan from the conversation, a move that just brought her closer to AJ’s left side, and in fact let her press her big right breast into his left arm. She felt him shudder, almost imperceptibly, but tried to keep her smile to herself.

Angie glanced Megan up and down with a coy smirk before turning back to AJ. “So...Nice suit! You look great,” she said, knowing men’s weaknesses for flattery, “Seems like you’re doing well?” “Um, yeah! Thanks!,” AJ replied, wincing as he heard the weird enthusiasm in his voice. He can’t come across as creepy, just talking to this girl ‘cuz she’s built. He knew he had to maintain himself, his composure. “I’ve been good,” he continued, “Staying busy with work and-” Angie cut him off. “Yeah, I saw that your company has a bid in to renovate the stadium downtown,” she said, letting her eyes sparkle in admiration. Men loved that. “That’s soooo great…” They also loved this bimbo talk, she’d learned. “Yeah well, it’s um… an exciting project,” He finished lamely, glancing over at Megan, whose glare had gone icy. What was he doing? This was rude. He should try to involve Megan some more, but found himself just really not wanting to. “But enough about me,” he said to Angie, admiring the dramatically dark makeup around her eyes, “How are you doing?” “I’m doing SO, SO good!” Angie sang, right hand reaching behind AJ’s back, resting on a shoulder. Megan scoffed, watching as her left hand then found his knee. What a tramp. “‘So so good’?” Megan finally snapped, the derision in her voice unmistakable, “Last I heard you were working at Hooters. Brad said he saw you th-” “Oh, did he? Brad, your husband?” Angie smiled, turning finally to address Megan, smile big and white.

“Ex...husband…” Megan said, voice quickly fading.

“Hm. Well, did Brad mention that he used to come in every Tuesday and Thursday for lunch, with guys from work, or sometimes just by himself?” Angie continued, a new edge to her voice, “And when I moved to just weekends, he started showing up then, too?” She smiled as she saw Megan’s eyes go wide. She loved doing this shit to prissy bitches like Megan, when they thought they could flex. “Did Brad tell you that he always asked to be sat in my section, and when I finally left he’d asked the other girls about me? Where I went? Asked for my number?”

Megan’s jaw had started to quiver, and Angie had to keep herself from laughing. She remembered Brad, though it had been awhile. Guys from their old high school had often come to Hooters to drool, whether it was over her or younger girls like Shanette or Missy. Brad had been no different. “I guess he just saw something he liked…. “ Angie concluded, straightening her shoulders and pushing her boobs forward - which drew a glance from AJ, she noticed. “Maybe something he didn’t have at home?” “Holy shit y-you bitch,” Megan sputtered, doing her best to sound appalled but glancing down at her own modest bust, unable to keep from feeling a little inadequate. Yes, Brad had been “a boob guy”... Ignoring the insult with practiced aplomb, Angie turned back to AJ, catching him looking down her top. “Besides, you don’t mind...do you AJ?” she asked him, squeezing her right breast more firmly into his nicely-muscled arm, rubbing his broad shoulder through his suit jacket, “That I used to work at Hooters?” “Um, uh, what?” he stammered, uncomfortable with the tense exchange that had just happened between these two girls, feeling weird that he’d just sat here, passively. How was he supposed to answer this? “No...not at all,” he managed, “I think, uh, service work is perfectly dignified…” “See?” Angie giggled, still rubbing his shoulder and rewarding him with an extra bit of boob, “Good boy.” Angie giggled again, so pleased with herself. Megan, for herself, looked aghast, watching AJ - who she always thought was a pretty well-put-together guy - fall for this bimbo’s simple little tricks. God, what a pair of tits can do... “I…” “..was just leaving” Angie finished for her, fixing her with a bright white smile and withering stare. She watched as Megan took her drink and stood from her stool. “You gonna go call Brad?” she added, for good measure, “Tell him Angie from Hooters said hello.” “Tell him yourself,” Megan sneered, and then turned to him, “And, AJ, nice talking to you. Have fun with the Titty Monster.” With that she stomped off, and Angie’s smile curled.

“‘Titty Monster’”, Angie repeated, chuckling to herself, “That’s rich. I think I’ll use that.” She bit her lip, narrowed her eyes. “So….” she began, turning all her attention back on AJ, her high school crush. She almost couldn’t believe it herself: here she was, little Angie Wade, proudly claiming Aaron Joseph Shaw for herself, just because she could. It was like wrapping him around her little finger. “Can I have a seat?” “Oh, uh, yeah,” AJ replied, shaking his head. What was wrong with him? He hadn’t even said goodbye to Megan. “Of course…”

AJ half-stood, chivalrously, as if to help Angie up into Megan’s now-empty chair. He sat back, finally, and began to order them both a drink from the bartender with the dramatic mustache.

“Two vodka tonics, please,” Angie had insisted, speaking over him with a will that made his loins clinch.

From there, the flirting began in earnest, disguised by a conversation about their jobs. Angie avoided divulging too much about her situation, her successes at the bank. She knew the male ego could be a fragile thing, and she didn’t want to scare him away. AJ seemed to be a successful guy himself, in his own way, but boys tended to like their girls dumb, and she could play that up a bit when she needed to. So, no mention of the degrees, no mention of the awards. Instead, she had leaned forward towards him just enough to open her cleavage for his approval.

God, she has great tits, he thought to himself, marveling at their swell and mass, and I’m really getting to be a tit-guy these days. His eyes just could not keep themselves from falling down her top, and she seemed not to mind in the least. In fact, after their second drink together, her hand had found its way back to his knee and seemed to give him an encouraging squeeze every time his gaze strayed to her chest. She...she actually likes that I’m looking at her tits, he finally convinced himself, and had slowly started to relax.

After another drink, Angie finally sat up, stock straight, and slowly stretched her shoulders back to look around the room. Some of their old classmates had begun to leave, and the room was less abuzz than it had been. Predictably, his eyes had gone straight to her chest, and shot away before she met his gaze again. She waited for him to talk, knowing exactly what he wanted.

“So, it looks like things are starting to quiet down here,” he finally asked, “do you, uh, need a ride?”

Bingo. “No, I drove myself,” she answered, watching his face, seeing the old gears turning.

“Well, I was thinking about, y’know,” he began again, poking at the remaining ice in his drink, “heading back to my loft, downtown, if you wanted to, like, come with me…?” Angie smiled, and leaned in towards him, squeezing her arms together in a dramatic show of cleavage. “Hmmm, well,” she purred, watching his eyes struggle to maintain her gaze, “how about you come to my place tonight sweetie. It’s closer....”

At that, she leaned in to his ear, and whispered into it with a voice thick with seduction. “And I still have my Hooters outfit at home. I can try it on for you….see if it still fits?”

============================================

Angie attacks! A little GITJ tangent thread being co-written with AgeoftheGiantess, who you may know from GTScity. Look for her story to continue.

Next post, our first entry by new contributor Joyce Julep, available at my Patreon

#Growing Into the Job

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melanielocke · 3 years

Text

What if Paris was the first time we met?

Based on Thomas’ suggestion in the Sanctuary, a rewritten Paris chapter where Alastair had been expelled from school before the Merry Thieves arrived there and they don’t have the same bad history. It’s not actually the first time they meet, but it is the first time they spend time together and get to know each other.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31938964

Paris, it turned out, while a beautiful city, was not enough to keep Thomas company on its own. He had taken a vacation from his travel year in Madrid and on Matthew’s insistence had gone to Paris, but since he didn’t really speak French and he didn’t know anyone here, it was rather lonely.

He’d gone to the Louvre, of course. But he’d had no one to share his thoughts with. And then he’d gone to see the Eiffel tower, but he wished he could have shared it with someone.

At Matthew’s insistence he was now at a book shop, an English book shop so he’d actually be able to read the books here. He wished he spoke some French, Thomas was good at languages and usually liked learning, but he’d never intended to go here and hadn’t bothered to study French alongside Persian.

And then he encountered someone he knew. Not a friend, exactly. He and Alastair Carstairs had only spoken a few times at parties, but he’d heard much about him and Thomas had always been intrigued.

Because of his frequent illness as a child, Thomas had gone to school a year late and Alastair Carstairs had been expelled the year before Thomas started. There had been rumors about him though. People said Alastair Carstairs had been awfully mean and clever, cutting people down with cruel words whenever he felt like it. People had said Alastair Carstairs had gotten into a fight and that’s why he’d gotten kicked out. Some said Alastair hadn’t been sent home for fighting at all. Instead, he’d been caught kissing a boy and both had been sent home.

Both Thomas and Matthew had been intrigued by him. Matthew had even considered kissing boys himself to get sent home, but had decided against it as it would also get another into serious trouble. Matthew had been absolutely insistent that James introduce them to Alastair at the next party the Carstairs would attend. James had never been fond of Alastair himself, he’d told his friends that Alastair was rather prickly and never wanted to talk to him, sometimes he was even mean. None of that had changed Matthew’s mind, of course. Not until he’d actually met Alastair, who had seemed haughty and arrogant and much more interested in Matthew’s older brother Charles. Matthew had soon lost any interest in him and had determined that the rumors about Alastair liking boys couldn’t possibly be true.

Thomas had stayed around though, trying to talk to Alastair whenever Charles was with someone else. He’d still been intrigued even if Alastair wasn’t quite what Matthew had hoped for. He’d seen Alastair a few more occasions, usually at parties, but Alastair had spent most of his time with Charles and other people like him, discussing politics and Thomas had realized perhaps Alastair was far too mature to spend time with people like him and Matthew.

Of course, that had been years ago. He wasn’t sure if he should say something to Alastair. What if Thomas’ presence would only annoy him as it had often seemed to do? What if he still thought Thomas too young and silly for him? He wasn’t given much of a choice though, because Alastair was staring at him, his eyes wide with shock and confusion.

‘Thomas Lightwood?’ he asked.

‘That’s me,’ Thomas said, smiling awkwardly.

‘By the angel, Lightwood, you’re gigantic,’ Alastair said. ‘What have they been feeding you?’

Thomas wasn’t sure how to answer that. He had grown rather a lot in the last year, towering over most people now, which was how he’d noticed Alastair in the first place.

‘Do you want to come to the Louvre, then?’ Alastair asked.

Thomas had already been, of course, but had no issue going again, especially if he now had company. He wasn’t sure Alastair had any interest in art, whenever Matthew had tried to talk to him about anything art related Alastair had just rolled his eyes and returned to speak with someone mature and serious, but if he didn’t like art he certainly wouldn’t be going to the Louvre.

‘Uh, yes, I’ll come,’ Thomas said. ‘Why are you in Paris, anyway?’

‘Why are you in Paris?’ Alastair shot back.

‘I’m on a vacation from my travel year in Madrid,’ Thomas explained.

On their way to the museum, Thomas talked a bit about Madrid, and although he feared Alastair would find him boring, he seemed to listen quite well and asked the occasional question.

‘I’ve lived in Madrid,’ Alastair said. ‘Although only for a couple of months and that was years ago.’

Thomas realized Alastair wasn’t going to tell him why he was in Paris, so instead he asked about other places Alastair had lived. He must be so worldly, Thomas thought. Thomas himself had only lived in London and Idris and now in Madrid.

‘It must have been lonely too,’ Thomas said. ‘Moving around so much, I mean.’

‘I have my sister,’ Alastair said. ‘And the Herondales visited sometimes.’

‘James said you didn’t really get along with them.’

‘James is closer to Cordelia’s age and he and I had barely anything in common. Besides, my mother was already planning his and Cordelia’s wedding in her head and that made any interaction with him rather awkward.’

‘It must have been nice when you got to go to school and finally could spend some time with boys your age.’

Alastair stiffened and Thomas realized he might have said the wrong thing. Of course, Alastair had gotten kicked out of school and Thomas realized his memories of school might not be so good.

‘Was it like that for you?’ Alastair asked after a silence.

‘Sort of. I mean, I already knew James, Matthew and Christopher before school, but we grew closer there. But other students would make fun of my height, James’ demon heritage, Matthew’s passion for art and Christopher’s experiments. I hadn’t realized until then how cruel people could be.

And then some students decided to set loose a vetis demon on James, and when we killed it, school decided to expel James instead of the boys who’d done it.’

Alastair looked horrified. ‘Why would anyone do such a thing? Don’t they know how dangerous a vetis demon is?’

‘One of the boys died. I’m not sure what they were thinking, but Clive certainly didn’t deserve to die.’

‘No, I guess not.’ Alastair’s tone indicated that he was sincere, but Thomas suspected he and Clive had a bad history. ‘I heard about you lot getting kicked out. That, together with all my efforts to get along with important people such as Charles Fairchild, made the rumors about me stop.’

Alastair looked sad in that moment, and Thomas realized Alastair always looked sad, although he tried his best to hide it.

‘So that’s why you were always speaking to him?’ Thomas asked.

‘It wasn’t just about the rumors,’ Alastair said. ‘I like Charles. He’s a good friend, and he likes my ideas on reforming the Clave. Mrs. Fairchild has done her best, of course, but there are still many old school people in powerful positions and they will block any good ideas the consul has, but Charles thinks she will consider my ideas. And if not, he will when he’s consul.’

Thomas wasn’t sure he liked the way Alastair lit up when he spoke about Charles. He couldn’t deny Alastair was beautiful when he did though, a bit different now that he didn’t look as sad. Not that Alastair wasn’t beautiful when he was sad, of course. He always looked beautiful, with his dark eyes and dark hair, which Thomas always thought was much more striking than blonde hair or light eyes.

‘Perhaps you should speak to my father someday,’ Thomas suggested. ‘He often assists the consul in her work and knows a lot about politics.’

His father’s role in the consul’s work had led to awful rumors about his father cheating on his mother with the consul. He remembered how his mother had cried about it, how his sisters had been shamed. Thomas had asked his father about it, who had assured him it was not true and that people were trying to undermine the consul with cruel rumors. That because they weren’t clever enough to argue against her ideas, they instead tried to destroy her person and had involved him in it because he always stood by Charlotte. Of course, Thomas guessed Alastair knew what it was like to be the subject of rumors.

Alastair looked amused. ‘If I ever visit London I might take you up on that offer.’

They reached the Louvre and Thomas shared his ideas of the art, things he’d written back in a notebook. The museum was crowded, which seemed to annoy Alastair, but he remained calm, and seemed rather satisfied just taking in a piece of art. Thomas found himself staring at Alastair, once again wondering if it was true he liked boys.

Thomas had not yet told his friends that he did too, but intended to tell them someday. Perhaps when he came home from Madrid. He knew it was silly to be scared of their reaction considering Matthew had already told them he liked both men and women. He guessed he just wasn’t ready for them to know, not yet. What would Alastair think, if he knew about Thomas?

They took a walk after the museum until they could see the Eiffel tower. Thomas had been up there, and had appreciated the view. The tower itself was unusual, he had never seen anything like it.

‘What do you think of the tower?’ Alastair asked. ‘I’ve heard many people say it’s ugly. They call it Eiffel’s folly. Charles has said many times that it is hideous.’

Thomas felt like Alastair was laying a trap, and wasn’t sure how to avoid stepping into it. ‘It’s not ugly. It’s just unusual.’

Alastair looked satisfied. ‘Quite right. Gustave Eiffel is a genius, and I’m sure one day he will be appreciated. Sometimes you have to stand back and let people do what they’re good at, even if it seems like madness at the time.’

They had dinner together at a bistro that Thomas thought was adorable, but Alastair didn’t seem that impressed. Of course, he had been in Paris for much longer, perhaps he’d seen much better places.

They talked about art, their travels. Alastair still wouldn’t tell much about why he was in Paris now, but he did tell him a bit about his travels from when he was younger, about the places he’d lived.

‘I was born in Tehran, Cordelia too, but I haven’t been there since I was four,’ Alastair said. ‘I don’t remember much from the city.’

‘Perhaps you should visit again someday,’ Thomas suggested. ‘Do you have any family there?’

Alastair hesitated. ‘I have some aunts and uncles, cousins. But I don’t really know them. I don’t think they get along well with my father.’

‘I have a cousin I don’t really speak to,’ Thomas said. ‘Well, had. Jesse Blackthorn died years ago and I never even met him. It might be nice to give them a chance.’

Alastair considered that. ‘I’m sorry about your cousin.’

‘As I said, I never met him. But I do feel for him, dying so young.’

Alastair then decided to change the subject, sensing some discomfort, perhaps? ‘Did you really get kicked out of school for blowing up a portion of it?’

‘No,’ Thomas said. ‘Well, I didn’t get kicked out, I mean. I left about a month after my friends did, Matthew and Christopher were the ones who blew up part of the school. I was alone and saw no point in continuing and figured I’d rather go live in London with my friends. Perhaps it would have been worth it to stay if you’d still been there though.’

Alastair looked sad. ‘I do not think it would have been. I was rather cruel when I was still in school, and I doubt I would have treated you any better than the other boys did. Perhaps it was for the best I got expelled before you came to school.’

Thomas wondered why, but wasn’t sure if he could ask that. He didn’t know Alastair that well, although he really enjoyed his company and could easily drown in his dark eyes.

‘You don’t seem cruel to me,’ Thomas said.

‘Believe me, I was. It’s the way things were at school. You were either cruel or the victim of cruelty and I did not much like being the victim of cruelty.’

Thomas was surprised Alastair was telling him this, open and honest. According to James Alastair was usually closed off and hostile.

‘Is that why you got kicked out?’ Thomas asked. ‘Because you were cruel at school?’

Alastair flinched.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… You don’t have to tell me.’

‘I’m sure you heard the rumors,’ Alastair said coldly. ‘They disappeared after a while. Of course, someone blowing up a portion of the school is far more interesting than gossip about what I might have done. You should thank Matthew Fairchild for me, he took a lot of attention off me.’

Thomas didn’t press, and realized the rumors might be true despite Matthew’s insistence that Alastair couldn’t possibly be like him. But that wasn’t any of his business and it would be cruel to ask Alastair about it. Thomas thought of the way Alastair lit up when he mentioned Charles, as if he got pleasure just out of saying his name. Did Alastair like Charles? The idea made him uncomfortable.

Thomas decided to change the subject again, telling Alastair about music he liked. He had tried to learn to play the piano when he was younger but had never been any good at it. He loved listening to music though. This prompted Alastair to tell him he used to play the piano, that he’d been pretty good at it, but Alastair wouldn’t tell him why he’d stopped. He seemed so sad when he mentioned that, and Thomas wondered why. Something must have happened to him, right? Something beyond what happened at school? Thomas wanted to know what it was, what had broken Alastair’s heart so much he’d turned to cruelty at school, so much he no longer enjoyed playing music. But he didn’t know Alastair that well, and couldn’t ask.

They talked for most of the night, not even noticing the restaurant closing down around them. Thomas told Alastair about the tattoo he was planning to get, describing the idea of a compass rose he had.

‘Where?’ Alastair asked, and when Thomas showed his arm, Alastair traced his fingers over it gently and without much thought.

It felt like fire against his skin, sending shivers down his spine and it made him long for more. He’d known for some time he was attracted to men, to Alastair in particular, but hadn’t realized he wanted him this badly until now. But Thomas no idea how to approach such subjects, how to tell if Alastair was interested. And what if Alastair really was in love with Charles? Would he still stand a chance? He couldn’t imagine Charles liking Alastair back though, and people forgot about a hopeless love eventually, right?

When they really had to leave, Alastair asked for the bill and paid for both of them.

‘Will you still be here tomorrow?’ Alastair asked.

‘I have a few more days in Paris,’ Thomas said.

‘Good. Meet me here tomorrow,’ Alastair said, giving him a note with an address and a time.

Alastair seemed unwilling to tell him where he was staying, so Thomas didn’t press. Instead, he went to meet Alastair at the street he’d given, and had begun to worry when Alastair was late. Could something have happened? Or had he simply forgotten? When Alastair arrived fifteen minutes late, he apologized for not making it in time. He looked flushed, as if he’d been in a hurry to come here. Thomas wondered what had happened, but didn’t ask. Perhaps Alastair was simply not great at keeping track of time.

‘You must see this,’ Alastair said. ‘It’s a film, a moving picture. I know we’re supposed to stay away from mundane things…’

Alastair broke off, a bit hesitant.

‘I’ve never seen a film before,’ Thomas offered. ‘It sounds brilliant. And I think it’s stupid we’re not supposed to like mundane art.’

At that Alastair smiled, and took him to the movie theatre. The movie was narrated in French by a man in the theatre, and Thomas didn’t understand much of it. Alastair seemed to enjoy it though, and Thomas had never taken him for the type to get this excited about mundane art.

Alastair’s hand brushed against his at some point, and Thomas instantly looked over at him. The other man seemed completely focused on the film though, unaware of the way their hands touched. Thomas felt like he couldn’t focus on anything else though.

Outside the theatre, Alastair was still enthusiastically explaining the film to him, telling him a bit about how mundanes made such a thing possible. Thomas commented on how it had seemed like magic.

‘It’s not magic,’ Alastair said. ‘But mundanes can do so many great things without magic, that’s what makes them intriguing.’

Thomas was surprised that Alastair didn’t hold the disdain for mundanes shadowhunters so often did. Thomas himself hadn’t been raised to look down on mundanes of course, his mother had been one until she’d ascended.

They took a bit of a walk after that, Alastair telling him that he was leaving Paris the next day and would need to get some things in order. Thomas was sad their time together was coming to an end, but perhaps he could invite Alastair to come stay in London some day when he was back.

‘You seem very curious about what really happened at school,’ Alastair said flatly at some point.

‘Well, me and my friends were kind of intrigued by the stories,’ Thomas said carefully. ‘Mr. Herondale always thought you had to be some sort of legend, although of course he seems to like everything that carries the name Carstairs.’

‘People often assume I’m violent,’ Alastair said. ‘That when I got into a fight, I must have started it. But I don’t do that. Even when I was mean and awful to everyone around me, I never hit anyone. I defended myself, and when the fight got out of hand everyone assumed I must have started it.’

‘Why would people assume you’re violent?’ Thomas asked.

‘Because of the way I look, I presume,’ Alastair said. ‘Most boys attending the academy were from white European families and I was the only one in my class who wasn’t white. Men who look like I do are often assumed to be violent.’

Thomas had always thought shadowhunters were above such prejudice, but he realized that wasn’t exactly true. The shadowhunter academy had been mostly white, mostly male, when he’d attended. Of course, many children were trained at institutes instead so he guessed most children who weren’t white must have gone there.

‘I’m sorry,’ Thomas said. ‘So you were expelled for fighting? But that makes no sense, so many students got into fights.’

Alastair shrugged. ‘It wasn’t the real reason I was expelled. But professor Fell was the one who wrote to my parents and he decided not to tell the truth. As a downworlder, he cares less, I think, and wanted me to be safe when I got home. The fight did happen, and professor Fell made it seem as if I was heroic for standing up for myself. My parents were still disappointed, of course, but my mother seemed at least proud that I did fight to protect myself.’

‘So you did kiss a boy?’ Thomas asked.

‘We were always very careful, but one day Clive Cartwright discovered us and told the headmaster. He must have been the one to spread the rumors, but he’s dead now. He’s also the one I got into a fight with.’

‘Did you at least win the fight?’

‘We both ended up bruised and beaten, but I can’t say I won. Professor Fell found us and broke us apart and while he took care of me, Clive ran off to the headmaster and told him everything he’d seen. Professor Fell tried his best to help, but even he decided sending me home was probably best since I wouldn’t be safe at school. Not that I ever was.’

‘Why are you telling me this?’ Thomas asked.

‘Because I noticed the way you looked at me the past days,’ Alastair said evenly. ‘I noticed how you started shivering and blushing when I touched your arm.’

Thomas turned red. ‘I guess that’s true. But I thought… What about Charles? I thought you were in love with him.’

Alastair showed little emotion when he responded. ‘Charles is getting married. I really need to get going, my mother needs me home and I can’t stay here much longer. But I would like to see you again someday.’

‘Perhaps you could come to London,’ Thomas suggested. ‘Once I’m back there. Your sister is to be parabatai with Lucie after all, and they should get to train together. And I would love to show you London. Have you been there?’

‘I have, but that was years ago,’ Alastair said. ‘I don’t know the city all that well. I’d love for you to show me once I can visit you, but I’m not sure when that will be possible.’

‘I’ll write to you as soon as I get home,’ Thomas promised. ‘And perhaps I’ll write you too from Madrid. You must be lonely at home. And I’ll miss you.’

Alastair smiled, and Thomas felt his pulse quicken. ‘I’ll miss you too,’ he said. ‘Spending time with you will be the best part of my time in Paris. Goodbye, Thomas.’

Alastair left, walking back to wherever he had been staying, looking back once before turning around the corner.

#Alastair Carstairs #Thomas Lightwood #Paris 1902 #tlh #the last hours #Thomastair

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tintinwrites · 4 years

Text

dreams and other things | Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales x Reader

A/N: This is inspired by an episode of King of the Hill, a show I did not even watch of my own volition yet vaguely enjoyed sometimes. No tags since the subject of this fic is quite touchy.

Rating: T

Warning: Trying for a baby and not being very successful with it. Discussions of possible infertility. Many sexual references. Naughty words. Depression. Arguing.

Word count: 1,907, apparently!!

Summary: Trying for a baby is taking longer than you thought it would, so Frankie tries to cheer you up.

GIF credit: ^ Please let me know if you don’t want me using your GIF!

----------------------

When you and Frankie first talked about trying to have a baby, it was quite possibly the best thing ever.

Yes, your sex life was pretty damn healthy if both of you did say so yourselves, but the moment you were working towards something with no condoms, no birth control?

You barely kept your hands off each other, whether you were somewhere private or you needed to sneak off to somewhere that was only semi-private.

Frankie didn’t know shit about ovulation until you peed on those little sticks and told him that meant you were at your most fertile; which meant three days of as much sex as possible, which meant he now knew a lot about ovulation and considered it to be a pretty damn great invention.

The first month of trying resulted in an obscenely expensive pregnancy test blinking a timer at you before it said ‘not pregnant’.

You were obviously disappointed, but you kissed him on the cheek and told him that it was pretty rare for a couple to get pregnant so quickly and you would keep trying.

He didn’t mind that.

But then one month became three, and three became six, and six became eight.

If someone is wanting a baby, they can only deal with throwing so many ‘not pregnant’ or one-lined sticks into the trash before it starts to chip at something. Frankie would hear you sob in the bathroom when your period came and sit outside waiting until you were pulled together enough, but you would just start sobbing again in his arms anyway.

With how disappointed he was with each month that passed without you being pregnant, he could only imagine your disappointment.

Fuck, he’d watched you weep on the bathroom floor about what a failure you were, how you couldn’t bear him a child, how much you just wanted to see two stupid fucking lines, and he still wasn’t sure he understood the extent of your disappointment.

Those three days he’d loved were starting to become something he hated, sex now an effort you both made yourselves do three days a month when it used to be something you needed to be pulled apart from doing; would this time result in a baby? Was he shooting blanks? Was there something up with your uterus, or your ovaries, or something else?

All your worries made the two of you bicker, then cry, then apologize, over and over again, until you finally broke down and told him you just didn’t know what was wrong with you.

That, at this point, you knew each pregnancy test would say you weren’t pregnant and that you hated yourself so much you were taking it out on him.

He was pissed because this was supposed to be easy, damn it. Creating a family was something biological, something anyone should be able to do if they wanted to, and he couldn’t do that for you? He wanted to yell at whoever the fuck would listen each time you cried because something that should’ve been simple just wasn’t.

Any yelling he wanted to do was kept in for the most part, aside from one time when snippy bickering made him raise his voice with everything he was shoving down.

I don’t know how to fucking fix this, okay?!

The moment the words left his mouth, his face had softened and he moved to you immediately, dropping to his knees at the couch in front of you and rubbing his palms up and down your thighs.

I didn’t mean to yell, okay? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby.

Maybe he was apologizing for more than just yelling as he laid his head in your lap, letting a few silent tears fall with the way you were running your fingers through his hair, telling him that you were sorry too, that you never meant anything you said and you just wanted a damn baby.

You decided to ease off on trying since it was so stressful for you both, and Frankie watched your heart break.

He watched it break even more when, despite not really trying, you were weeping in the bathroom once again at the blood in your underwear telling you that you still weren’t pregnant.

He held you to his chest, and kissed your head, and whispered all the truths to you of how great you were, and he suggested you take the week off work to just take a little more stress off.

You spent each day laying on the couch with dried tear tracks on your face as you watched almost every sitcom that was streaming, but he didn’t care. He’d leave something for you for breakfast in the morning, call in for something to be delivered for lunch, then make you dinner when he was home.

Most nights, he’d bring you to bed and help you change into fresh clothes, smiling at you when you’d kiss him and say a little thank you.

And then you’d fall asleep and any smile he tried to keep on for you dropped.

You were so...sad. There was no other word for it. Empty, maybe. Longing for something that should’ve been yours.

Shit, maybe he wasn’t going to be the best dad in the world, but you needed to be a mother.

Wherever he would’ve failed, he knew that baby would be okay with you loving it, and nurturing it, and kissing it, and holding it close to you.

Seeing the way you yearned for a baby made him think of all the other things you’d talked about with him, all the little dreams and other things you hoped to do with him.

He thought maybe one of them would help, maybe he could find something to help fill that void even if it didn’t fit quite right.

Something that would occupy your heart until you were finally pregnant or you looked into adopting a kid.

He came home that Friday you’d taken off work with a box in his arms, setting it outside the door before he pushed it open and stepped inside. He took off his boots like always and walked over to the couch where you were watching an old show, bending down to kiss you gently.

“Can you close your eyes for me, baby?” He tugged on your bottom lip with his thumb as you gazed up at him.

“If I open them to find you naked, I’m not gonna find it very amusing.” The time off work brought back a bit of your humor, but you did close your eyes as you moved to sit up.

“Not doing that, but I really hope you like this.” He made sure your eyes were closed before he moved towards the still open door. “It’s, uh...it’s gonna be a little work, but I know we talked about doing this before.” He balanced the box in his arms carefully, kicking the door closed as he moved inside.

“I’m still convinced this is a sex thing.” You furrowed your brow, wringing your hands anxiously.

“It’s not a sex thing, hon.” He set the box at your feet and reached in to take out the furry, wriggling creature.

“It really sounds like it is.”

“Hold out your hands.”

You did with little hesitation because you trusted Frankie more than anyone, brow furrowing even more when something soft was placed into your hands.

“Open your eyes.”

You did, pausing when you looked down to find what looked to be a little mixed hound puppy staring up at you and wagging its tail, trying desperately to lick at any part of you it could.

The longer you stared at the puppy in silence, the more nervous Frankie became that this was a bad idea and that you were going to be offended by him trying to cheer you up with a dog.

Then you started sobbing, putting the puppy in your lap and reaching up to Frankie, who quickly moved to sit next to you.

He wasn’t sure if you were happy or not, but he wrapped his arms tight around you either way and let you cry against his neck.

“Is this good crying?” he asked tentatively, relaxing considerably when he felt you nod.

“Good, it’s good. Is it a boy or a girl?” For some reason, that question broke his heart a little, but he pulled away to watch the puppy paw at your shirt.

“A girl. Someone dumped her and her brothers and sisters at the shelter. But she’s ours now, if you want her.”

“Oh, baby. She’s so beautiful, Frankie.”

You held the puppy again and she wriggled around, teetering forward to lick at your chin which made you laugh loudly.

That was Frankie’s most favorite sound in the world and he’d been hearing it so infrequently that he was pretty sure he’d just fallen in love with you all over again.

He gently rubbed up and down your back, watching the puppy gnaw on your finger with those little sharp teeth. “You like her?”

“I love her. Thank you for...everything.” You kissed him gently, for loving you, for putting up with you, for wanting a baby with you, for doing his best to provide something else you dreamed of when your dream of a child wasn’t working out.

He pressed his head against yours and looked into your eyes in a tender moment that was quickly interrupted by the puppy leaping up and licking at you both. You both laughed and you set her down on the couch, letting her sniff around the new environment.

“You’ll need to pick out a name. Alright, alright, damn.” The puppy was trying to nose in behind him impatiently and he scooted forward a little, chuckling.

“Catfish,” you said so surely that Frankie looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re kidding me.”

“I want her to be named after her daddy.”

He shook his head, looking to his side to see that dopey little tan and black face staring up at him with her tail thumping on the couch cushion. “I guess there’s enough room for two Catfish around here, huh?”

She tilted her little head as he spoke, ears flopping around slightly, then dove right into his lap and started nipping at his hands.

You laughed, leaning over and nuzzling his shoulder. “We need to buy her some chew toys.”

“Uh, I did.”

“You sound guilty.”

“—I took off work early to grab her and we stopped by the pet store for food and shit, so I bought a few toys.”

“How many is a few toys?”

“Anything she wanted.”

“You softie.”

You watched him with adoration in your eyes as he playfully scolded the puppy for chewing on his jacket. “Put the puppy in the box.”

“Huh?”

“Put her in the box for a minute.”

Frankie looked confused until your hand slid between his legs, eyes widening when you squeezed him lightly. “Alright, baby girl, you hold tight and play with the ball I put in your box, okay?”

It was a month and a half later as Frankie stared at eight lines, two on each of the four pregnancy tests you’d taken, as well as the three digital screens that said ‘pregnant’ on the other ones, that you kissed Catfish’s head again and again and told her it was thanks to her that she was going to be a big sister.

#frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales x reader #frankie morales imagine #triple frontier imagine

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silverwhiteraven · 3 years

Text

Wings of Broken White - Ch. 10

Tag List: @marichatmay

[ Posted on Ao3 ] [ Chapter 1 ] [ Chapter 9 ] [ Chapter 11 ]

[ Summary: End of School picnic preparations! ]

To celebrate the class’s successful final project, they were putting together plans for a large picnic in the park at the end of the last day of school. The last day wasn’t mandatory for students to attend unless they had work to catch up on or tests to make up. So Marinette was spending that time at home, busying herself in the upstairs kitchen, preparing food and treats.

A faint knocking sound distracted her a couple hours in, and after making sure she could walk away without anything burning, listened for the source. She gasped and smiled when she realized it was coming from above her, from her own room. The balcony! Chat must be here!

She ran up to her room and up to the lost, and sure enough, she could see Chat Blanc, seated on the balcony floor next to the trapdoor. She pushed it open quickly, and he perked up, his tail flicking and wings spreading out behind him excitedly.

“Princess! You came!” He smiled wide.

Marinette giggled and pulled herself up to sit next on the edge of the hatch. “But of course, I can’t just leave my Knight outside like a stray now can I?” He laughed at that and she hid her smile behind her hand. “So what are you doing here, gryphlet?”

“Well you see,” he flourished a hand dramatically as he spoke, “I heard that today of all days was your last day of collège, and I wanted to congratulate you. So here I am.”

She laughed and shook her head. “You sure it’s not because I'm cooking? If you heard about it being our last day, then there's no way you didn't hear that we’re planning a picnic later, too.”

He gasped dramatically, setting a clawed hand to his chest like he had been hurt. It did nothing to erase the cute smile on his face, though. “You doubt my intentions, Princess? Well, you are right to do so,” he sighed dramatically. “Indeed, I am not just here to congratulate and shower you in praise, but to rob you of your goodies. Forgive this dashing rogue of his glutinous ways?”

He fluttered his eyes at her, and she couldn't help but laugh. “You are forgiven, on one condition,” she raised her hand, index finger raised to indicate her one condition.

“Name it,” he leaned in, looking ready to do anything.

“Help me with the baking and cooking for later,” she stated simply with a coy smile. “You can eat a portion of anything you make yourself. That’s the means for you to get fed. Deal?”

“Deal!” He hopped to his feet with a big grin and she gently laughed, happy to see his energy. She led him back down into her room and then into the kitchen.

She quickly checked on everything, making sure nothing had burned while she was gone. Satisfied, she waved Chat Blanc to join her at the counter. His previously excited mood was replaced by slight nervousness. He looked unfamiliar with the layout, though his eyes sparked with curiosity. Marinette tried not to stare as she cleared her throat and started introducing him to the ingredients and tools. “Now, don’t touch anything just yet,” she added when she finished showing him around. “Cooking has ground rules you should always follow.”

“Like a chemistry lab?” His ears flicked and wings shuffled, and she giggled, nodding.

“Yep, just like a chemistry lab. First, let's get you an apron.” She grabbed one of the hooks by the stairs, and as she went to toss the neck strap over his head, she noticed the decal on the front. Kiss the Cook. She blushed and turned it backwards, swiftly putting it on Chat before he could see. Now the decal was hidden from view and she wouldn't have to think about it. She then went behind him to tie the waist strap, but paused as she looked at his wings in the way.

“Something wrong?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“Your wings...These aprons are usually for my parents. I only use them when my wings are bound,” she said quietly, a bit awkward and unsure.

“Oh,” he replied softly. Her breath caught and she stepped back as his wings moved. They dropped slightly, only to completely fold up, pull against his back. He smiled at her gently over his shoulder. “Better? As long as you don’t tie it too tightly, I’ll be purrfectly comfortable like this.

Dropping her head to hide another blush, she nodded, coming closer and tying the apron. “So, uhm, next thing. Always keep your hands- uh, talons, washed.” He chuckled at her fumbled pun but nodded and went to the sink. She mentally facepalmed, knowing it would be awkward to wash gloves.

She carried on instructing him, meanwhile trying to keep to the edge of his vision until her flustering calmed down. She made sure he knew never to cross contaminate foods, to always clean the work area as they went, and continue to wash hands frequently. She scolded him when the oven timer went off and he almost reached in without proper hand protection. He was sheepish about it, but to her satisfaction, he didn’t make the mistake again.

At some point, she hadn't noticed the amount of flour dusting him because of how well it blended in. She only realized it when he had patted her head in reassurance that he could do a task without help now. The pat left a white handprint in her midnight hair, and she guffawed indignantly when she noticed it in her reflection on a mixing bowl. She didn’t bother trying to get it off, though, knowing it was pointless.

Finally, with quiche, pasta salad, croissants, and macaroons all done after a few more hours of working together, they were now sitting on the floor, waiting for the bread rolls to finish. The dishes and counters were already clean, the aprons were back where they belonged, and Marinette had even let out her wings to stretch them out alongside Chat Blanc’s. She tried not to think about their feathers brushing as they sat shoulder to shoulder, watching the oven like a pair of tired but happy hawks.

Chat started humming as they sat in comfortable silence, and she listened to the gentle sound. It was enhanced by a subtle purr, and she had to hold her breath to keep from giggling at the cuteness of the moment.

When he stopped, she asked in a whisper, “What song was that?”

“Hm? Oh,” he smiled softly and rubbed his neck. “A lullaby my mother used to sing. ‘Robin and his Maiden’. I made my own little parody of it not long after I got my Miraculous. Well, I only managed to do the first line, really, I'm stuck on the rest.”

Marinette sat up, attention caught. “Tell it to me, I want to hear.”

He hesitated, a blush under his mask indicating it was from shyness and not from doubt. “The original first line went like this: Little Robin on a roof, without his Maiden. The story is about Robin Hood and Maid Marian. Now I say it like this: Little Kitty on a roof, without his Lady.” Marinette giggled, realizing the comparison to her alter ego. “I’m stuck on the rest, because the story doesn't seem to quite fit with the changed names, you know?”

With a nod of understanding, she nudged his shoulder with her own. “Art is hard, I know. It’s okay to be stuck. You should try playing with the names a bit, maybe the rest will come to you along with fresh inspiration.”

He nodded and looked away, back to the oven as he began to hum again. Soon, the hums turned to words. “Little Gryphon on a roof, all alone without his Princess,” he gave a cheshire grin as she burst out in laughter and a fresh fluster. She pushed him over and he laughed as he flopped on the floor. She stood up and huffed, hiding her smile as she checked on the bread. The timer went off just in time, and, feeling satisfied with their golden brownness, she took them out and set them to cool on the counter.

She glanced at the clock and sighed. “Everything is done in time, that’s good. The picnic is in an hour.” She turned to Chat with a soft smile. “Without fail, I always end up late to meet-ups because I put way too much on my plate right before hand. Looks like I’ll be on time this year. I couldn't have done this without you, Blanc.”

He smiled back at her from his place on the floor, looking perfectly content to be there as he practically basked in her thanks. She laughed, feeling light and newly carefree. When they lulled back into comfortable silence, he sat up and looked at the clock himself. A sad smile replaced his normal one.

“Looks like I need to go before then. I have somewhere to be later, too.” He stood, brushing the last of the flour off his white suit, his wings fluttering as they too shook out little puffs of powder. Marinette nodded and joined him, leading him back upstairs and out onto her balcony.

“Thank you for stopping by, gryphlet. I had fun,” she looked away, smiling to herself. “And don’t forget these, your promised treats for helping.” She handed him a cardboard pastry box, containing a few of the goods they had made together.

He beamed at her as he accepted it, and then took her hand in his and bowed. “It was my pleasure, Princess.” He kissed the air above her knuckles and she giggled, struck breathless by his action. He straightened back up and let her go, smiling wide. “I’ll see you again soon.”

And just like that, he was leaping from her balcony and gliding away on wings that matched the sky and clouds.

It took her a little while to go back inside, having taken her time to be dazed as she processed the last few hours. Tikki had broken her out of it with barely restrained giggles and a reminder that they needed to get ready for the picnic with her class.

As expected, the hour passed by quickly after that, and with a little help from her parents, all of Marinette and Chat Blanc’s efforts were brought to the park and set out on tables alongside everyone else’s contributions.

Everyone in their class made it to the park, and a few had even dragged along some family members who were willing to celebrate with them. Many of them spent the whole picnic talking about the school year, and all the random moments that stuck in their minds. Hawkmoth and some Akumas were brought up at some point, and almost half an hour was subsequently spent on everyone acting out each other's Akumatized versions in light and welcomed jest.

When it all started to dwindle to a close, everyone spent time making summer plans together and discussing which lycées they were going to. It was sad to think that their group, together for four years strong, was going to be split up. Luckily, everyone had plans to join extracurricular school groups that were likely to have them meeting up just as often as before. Even their humanitarian projects like planting public trees and gardens was something they were excited to continue.

If anything, they all knew that distance wasn’t going to make their bonds any lesser.

And so, all in all, Marinette had a good time, and she felt ready to keep going into the future.

#marichatmay2021 #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #chat blanc #ml wing au #wing-binding #willowbendt

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bitterepiphany · 3 years

Text

haircuts

Archive Of Our Own

a little aruanixhitch request for somsss <3<3<3 hopefully it helps distract all you manga readers from the pain

Warnings: none

Summary: hitch is a good friend. a fantastic one, in her opinion. so what sort of friend would she be if she didn’t help poor annie out with that boy she has obvious heart eyes for? luckily for her, armin needs a haircut

Annie Leonhardt was not a subtle starer. She never looked at anyone for longer than a few seconds at a time, even during conversations, so Hitch found it rather amusing when she discovered her friend rather obviously ogling a certain blonde head of hair in front of them for more than three-quarters of their advanced biology class.

Hitch Dreyse was tempted to chide the girl for not paying attention in class; their half-yearlies were coming up rather quickly, after all, but she doubted Annie would listen to her. But Hitch was rather curious as to why this boy in particular had caught someone like Annie Leonhardt’s attention. She waited until their professor Hange gave them a few minutes to pack up, leaned over, and rested her elbow on Annie’s shoulder.

“So, Armin Arlert, huh?”

Annie’s reaction was immediate. Her head snapped around to face Hitch, her usually half-lidded eyes stretched wide with shock. A faint pink blush was spreading over her cheeks.

“W-what?” Hitch’s grin stretched wider at Annie’s attempt at sounding nonchalant.

“C’mon Annie, don’t act dumb,” she teased, “It’s pretty obvious when you stare you know.”

Annie flushed a deeper red, turning away abruptly. She began to shove her things in her bag roughly. She stood, brushing her bangs behind her ear. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she mumbled, striding away quickly as soon as the bell rang.

“Ooh, Annie, darling,” Hitch crooned at her retreating back, “You’re not a very good liar..!”

Chuckling, Hitch barely caught the vulgar gesture Annie threw at her behind her back. She slowly began to pack her things away.

Hitch and Annie had an interesting friendship, to say the least. While Hitch was bubbly, outgoing, and popular (at least that's what she thought, well hoped people thought of her), Annie, decidedly, was not. Loner, was a pretty good word to describe the girl. She was quiet, unassuming, and pretty much kept to herself. In their freshman and sophomore years of highschool, Annie was one of the few kids who never attended a party, though not because she was disliked or unpopular; rather, she was always invited, but she just never showed up. But following Hitch’s discovery after an interesting English project together that Annie was, underneath that cold exterior, actually quite an interesting person, she made an effort to befriend the girl and bring her to social gatherings.

Hitch was proud enough to have the honour of being the person who brought Annie to the first whole year party of junior year, and since then, they had maintained an unconventional friendship. It had served useful for Hitch, as Annie was pretty smart and, surprisingly, skilled at forging signatures for late notes, and usually only requested a packet of something sweet, like donuts, in return for a favour. Annie had gotten Hitch out of a particularly tough spot after almost being caught in the boys change room one time (Hitch resolved never to go that far for a boy ever again), and Hitch was prepared to cover for Annie if her forging exploits were ever exposed.

One thing Hitch had never managed to get out of Annie however, was boys. Before befriending Hitch and occasionally hanging out with her, when she wasn’t alone, Annie was often in the presence of two other boys in their year; Reiner Braun and Bertholdt Hoover. What puzzled Hitch about this however, was that the three seemed to be stuck in some weird, broken, love triangle. Bertholdt was hopelessly - pathetically, really - smitten with Annie, but she barely spared him a glance on a good day, and Reiner was clearly pining after his best friend Bertholdt, despite how hard he tried to hide it. From what Hitch had gathered, the three were old family friends, so they gravitated towards each other naturally.

Hitch was dragged out of her musings by a sudden bang on the classroom door. She looked up, and saw a certain brown-haired boy bashing his fist against the doorframe.

“Armin!” Eren Yeager called out, “What’s taking you so long man, I don’t feel like lining up for my lunch forever!”

A head of black hair poked over his shoulder and grimaced slightly in Armin’s direction. “It’s only been a minute since the bell went, Eren,” Mikasa Ackerman chided. Armin laughed and apologised, grabbing his bag and joining the duo in walking down the hallway.

Hitch made her way behind them, keeping her eyes trained on the mop of blonde hair as he chatted animatedly with his best friends. Hitch was intrigued at how this small, unassuming boy had caught the attention of her ‘I-don’t-get-along-with-people-so-leave-me-alone-if-I-don’t-know-you’ friend. As far as Hitch was aware, she had never seen Annie and Armin interact outside of a classroom setting.

Armin Arlert was an interesting boy. In the early years of high school, he was quiet, but an absolute genius in the classroom, and it soon became commonplace for him to be topping every subject he took. But it was impossible to resent the kid for it, since he was so damn nice all the time and would happily assist anyone with their studies if they needed it. Though it also couldn’t hurt that Eren Yeager and, more scarily, Mikasa Ackerman, would beat the ass of anyone who dared look funny at the kid. By now, in Senior year, Armin had a little following of kids who he helped study in the library every week.

Hitch knew him as a part of the theatre club. He certainly didn’t look it, but he had a surprising amount of presence on stage for such a small boy. He was cute and short, with his classic blonde bob haircut that hung around his face. Armin had a sweet higher-pitched voice compared to the other boys, and was often cast to play younger characters, but he never seemed to mind, simply enjoying being part of productions.

Hitch entered the cafeteria, glancing around and spotting the person she was looking for. She made her way over and plunked her stuff down next to Annie, who was picking away at a pastry. The other girl looked at her, frowning slightly. She probably expected Hitch to continue teasing her about the Biology class. Hitch just grinned at her cheekily, pulling out her food. Other people filed into the space, and a few friends of hers and Annie’s sitting at the table with them. Hitch winked at Marlowe opposite her, who just looked confused, and waved at Pieck, who stuck her tongue out in response.

Hitch leaned over to the dark-haired girl, glancing at Annie. “I think Annie’s got a crush,” she whispered to Pieck. The girl gasped softly, hand clapping over her mouth.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Hitch nodded, still whispering so she wouldn’t risk a kick to her shins from the blonde girl. “She wouldn’t stop staring at him during Bio…”

Pieck hummed, lips parting to presumably ask who, exactly, Annie was staring at, but was interrupted by a smack, as a pissed-off looking Reiner approached their table, whacking Porco on the side of the head, who spat out his milk, as he passed.

“What the fuck, man?”

Hitch decided then was a good time to zone out their conversation as angry swearing buzzed in her ears. She looked at Annie. Her friend’s head was tilted down at her pastry, but Hitch could see her eyes were angled to look at something on their right. Hitch followed her gaze, very amused to see they were looking directly at the table where Eren Yeager and a certain one of his friends were sitting.

Hitch supposed it wasn’t that surprising Annie had taken an interest in Armin. He was extremely sweet and nice, and very intelligent. Hitch looked at him as he turned his head and laughed at something Eren was saying. Armin wasn’t bad to look at, she guessed. He had certainly grown up over the years, and there was more of a noticeable change that she could see in him after the summer. He had grown a good couple of inches taller, and he had lost some of the baby fat around his face, showing off his impressively sharp jawline.

Well, I suppose a late glow-up is better than no glow up at all, Hitch mused, a plan forming in her mind. She had made up her mind. If Annie was interested in Armin, what kind of friend would Hitch be if she didn’t become the best wing-girl there was in this lousy school?

Glancing at Annie and throwing a grin over at Pieck, Hitch stood, striding over to where Armin was seated. Slipping into the gap beside him, she ignored the break in conversation and bewildered stares sent her way, just focusing on Armin.

He looked a bit confused, but smiled at her all the same. “Uh, hey Hitch! Is there something you needed?”

Hitch glanced back at the other table. Annie was staring at her, eyes wide, a red flush creeping up her neck. Hitch smiled sweetly at her, and winked, before turning back to Armin. “Why yes Armin, there is something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“See, I saw the posting for the cast list for ‘Dear Evan Hansen’. I saw that you - “ she poked him on the shoulder, ‘ - got the leading role, huh? Look at you!”

Armin blushed, hand drifting back to scratch at his neck awkwardly. “Ah, yeah I guess I did,” he said, eyes glued to the table. He looked at her briefly. “You got Alana Beck right?” Hitch nodded. “Congrats to you too!”

Hitch smiled at him. He really was too pure for this world. “But there’s an issue, mister!” She poked him again.

“T-there is?”

“Yeah,” she frowned, sticking her hand out and flicked his long hair. “This is the problem.”

His hands jumped up to his head, clutching at the blonde locks anxiously. “My hair?”

Hitch nodded earnestly. “You turned 18, what… a couple months ago, and you expect to play Evan Hansen looking like that?” She looked him directly in the eyes. “You need a new look Armin, and I have just the plan for you.”

Hands still tugging at his hair, he looked back at her sheepishly. “I mean, I guess... I -”

“I told you Armin! I told you! That old hair is so middle school!”

Eren’s voice suddenly interjected into their conversation, his friend leaning around Mikasa, punching Armin in the arm. Armin yelped softly, rubbing the spot. It appeared that the hot-headed kid had been listening in, after all.

Armin glanced between Hitch and Eren, looking panicked. Then he sighed, shoulders slumping. “Okay, fine. What do you have in mind, Hitch?”

Bingo. Bless his willing heart.

Hitch beamed, slinging an arm around Armin’s shoulders. “I have a friend, Annie Leonhardt, she’s in a few of your classes I think, and she is a great hairstylist. I can ask her to cut your hair for you?”

Armin’s eyes widened slightly, eyes flicking to where Annie sat, presumably watching them. “Annie? Are you sure she’d want to do that for me?”

Hitch began to stand, ruffling his hair lightly. “Don’t worry, she’ll be at rehearsal tomorrow afternoon, and you two can organise it then, okay?”

“O-okay?”

Hitch smiled, waved, and began walking back to Annie. Her friend glared at her when she sat down. “What did you say to him?” Annie hissed.

“Oh, Annie, who said I was talking to him about you?” Hitch teased, “So you do admit you’re interested in him?”

Annie’s eyes grew even wider, and she began to stutter. “No, that- that’s not what I meant, I just-”

Hitch cackled, resting her hand on Annie’s shoulder. “Don’t worry Annie~, I’ve got you. See, little old Armin has the lead role in the musical, but he needs a haircut. And luckily for you,” she grinned, “I happened to recommend you as the person who can do it for him! So, I’ll be bringing you to rehearsal tomorrow afternoon, and you two can sort it out, okie-dokie?”

Annie just stared at her.

“What.”

“You are free tomorrow afternoon right?” Hitch asked.

“Uh, yeah, but-”

The bell rang shrily, making Annie jump. Hitch blew a kiss in her direction as she began to walk away. “Then I’ll see you after class tomorrow then! Look forward to it!”

Annie just stared, a surprisingly open, shocked look on her face.

****

Annie wasn’t sure why she agreed to do this. But for some reason, she found herself following Hitch as they walked to the auditorium, after the girl ambushed her at her locker and dragged her away. Annie was sure Hitch wouldn’t really try to stop her from leaving if she decided she wasn’t going to follow along, but Annie couldn’t bring herself to walk away for some reason.

Her friend was too damn perceptive for her own good. Even Annie wasn’t entirely sure why Armin Arlert had caught her attention all of a sudden, but she couldn’t seem to keep her thoughts away from him these days. Annie knew what a crush was, of course, but she had never experienced it before, previously content to ignore basically all social interaction so she could graduate and get the fuck away from her restrictive lifestyle.

She had always tolerated the boy more than others in the past years; he was just too nice and innocent and Annie couldn’t bring herself to brush him off like everyone else. But since the beginning of Senior year (or maybe it was the middle of junior year, after his performance in ‘The Book Of Mormon’, she wasn’t sure), he became more present to her, for some unknown reason. Maybe it was the way his face had gotten sharper, stronger looking, or maybe it was how his extra inches of height seemed to fill him out more, defining his lean but toned body, or maybe it was the way she wondered what it might feel like to be cared for by someone who seemed to love so unconditionally.

Stop. Why would he want some nobody like you.

Annie shook her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts as she and Hitch walked through the auditorium doors. Hitch bounded off, spouting greetings to her fellow castmates. Annie was overcome with that uncomfortable feeling of ‘I am not supposed to be here’. She stood awkwardly, until Ms Ral, one of the assistant teachers for the production, approached her.

“Annie, what are you doing here?”

“Uh...” Annie blanked for a moment. What was she doing here? “I’m here to talk to Armin?” She sounded like she was asking a question. “Um, about his hair.”

“Oh yes, yes that’s you Annie!” Ms Ral broke into a wide smile. “Armin mentioned it to me before. I think he’s in the change rooms right now, but you can talk to him when he comes out.”

Annie thanked her, feeling a little less like a fish out of water in this environment. She contented herself by watching and listening to Hitch and a group of some other girls warm up their voices, getting a bit caught up as they ran up and down scales repeatedly.

“Annie! Hey! Thanks for coming!”

She was jolted out of her stupor by the voice of the boy she came here for. Armin was dressed in a simple black getup, black jeans and a simple black t-shirt. Now that she noticed it, all the people here were dressed in black. It suited him, his t-shirt fitting him quite snugly, defining his lean torso.

“Annie?”

Shit. She was staring.

Pull yourself together Leonhardt.

Annie stood and managed to muster a small smile at him. “Sorry, yeah, you wanna chat about your hair now?”

“Sure!”

He gestured to a quieter corner of the auditorium, and she followed him and sat down crossed legged on a big fuzzy box thing. He sat directly next to her, meaning she had to turn her body to face him. She cursed her feelings for making her feel so damn nervous when she was near him.

They didn’t speak for a moment, just glancing to and away from each other awkwardly. Annie decided to suck it up, asking, “Uh, so do you know how you wanna cut it?”

“O-oh yeah!” he sounded flustered, hand reaching up to run through his locks. “I talked to Mikasa, and she thinks that having it short, kinda like Eren’s, but with like an undercut kinda thing?”

Annie tilted her head, trying to picture it. Not bad, Mikasa. She could see it.

“Yeah. Yeah I think that’ll work… I can do that.”

His eyes brightened almost comically, and he smiled so wide, Annie’s stomach lurched. “Really?” he gasped, “Oh thank you so much Annie, you’re the best!! I’ll pay you, if you want, I don’t want you to do it for free!”

Annie was blushing now at his offhand compliments, and she shook her head. “N-no it’s okay,” she mumbled, ducking her head. He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off.

“I mean if you want to get me something in return, you can… you can bring donuts..?” Her voice trailed off as her cheeks reddened even harder, her eyes refusing to meet his.

“Donuts?”

“...yeah, any kind really...”

Armin burst out in laughter. Annie couldn’t help the small smile that curled her lips as she looked at how damn happy he looked.

“Donuts it is then! I’m free on… uh let’s see,” he pulled out his phone, “I can do Thursday afternoon? Oh… is there somewhere you wanna take me to do it or..?”

“Oh no not really, I can come over to your house if that’s okay.”

Armin nodded tapping something into his phone, biting his lip lightly. “Yeah that should be fine. I’ll have to tell Grandad,” he mumbled, more to himself then anything, “But I’m sure he’ll be fine with it.”

He nodded, looking back up at Annie with a grin. He slipped off the cube. “Thanks so much Annie! I’ll see you Thursday then!” He jogged off with a wave.

Annie found herself waving back, a bubble of warmth growing in her chest. She heard a small ‘whoop’ from behind her as she began to walk to the doors. She turned, finding Hitch smirking at her, thumbs up. Annie frowned. Hitch just giggled, blowing her a kiss and winking as she turned away.

Even her friend’s teasing couldn’t pop that bubble of warmth in Annie’s chest.

****

Armin waited nervously by Annie’s locker Thursday afternoon as she packed her stuff away. He had caught her the other day and they had exchanged phone numbers. They had exchanged a few messages that day.

Thursday, 11:30 a.m. To Annie

hey annie! armin here!

hi armin

just double checking everything is ok for this afternoon?

yeah

cool! just wondering if it’s okay if we walk to my place? it’s only about 15 mins away

fine by me. meet me at my locker after 6th?

great! i’ll see u then! :)

“Ready?”

Armin blinked. Annie was standing in front of him, eyebrows raised slightly. She held a plastic shopping bag in her hand; Armin presumed it held supplies for cutting his hair.

“Oh, yeah, let’s go!”

Annie trailed behind him as they left the school grounds and he led the way to his house. They walked together in a comfortable silence for a while. The weather was pleasant, sunny with a cool breeze blowing at their backs.

Why am I thinking about the weather, of all things?

“Um, Armin?” He turned to the girl behind him as she spoke suddenly.

“I was wondering if you had your license? I wouldn’t ask, it’s only that I don’t, and I live on the other side of town, and I’m not sure how long this’ll take, so…”

“Oh do you need a lift?”

She nodded. “If that’s ok… I can just call a taxi if not, it’s no big deal-”

“No, Annie it’s fine!” Armin interrupted, “I don’t drive much because I love so close to school but it’s totally fine! In fact, I’d prefer to take you then have you go in a taxi after dark…” He rubbed his neck sheepishly at that, feeling a blush creeping up his neck.

Annie didn’t say anything for a moment, but when he turned back at her he saw a similar flush adorning her cheeks. “Thanks,” she mumbled.

Armin was saved from his suddenly scrambled thoughts - a result of seeing her pink face, he suspected - as they approached his house. He waved her up the driveway and unlocked the door, letting her through first.

“I’m home!”

He waited for the usual response from his Grandad, but none came.

“Hmm, he must be out getting shopping or something… okay, come upstairs then, you can drop your stuff in my room.”

Armin had lived with his Grandfather since he was four years old, after his parents left on a trip to Europe, promising to return after six months. They never did. Armin was too young at the time to understand they had effectively abandoned him; there was never a need for a missing person’s case or police searching - any police found them just fine and they simply refused to return home. He was put into his Grandad’s care after that, and Armin had never had the time nor the energy to really investigate or ponder why his parents had left him behind; he had always figured it was a thing to think about when he was older.

But now he had just turned eighteen years old, and any memories he possessed of his parents were just brief flashes of feelings and sound. He had pictures of them of course, but looking at them had never really brought about that sense of yeah that’s my family, the familiarity that came with being raised by someone lost on them and placed instead on his Grandad. His Grandfather had been willing to answer basic questions about his parents if he had them, but always insisted that if it was something Armin really wanted to pursue, he would have to do it himself. But Armin never did.

Maybe one day after I graduate…

They made their way up the stairs of the two-storey house, and Armin let them into his room. Annie stood in the doorway for a moment and just stared.

It was a fairly normal room, Armin thought, with blue-painted walls and the usual furniture; a double bed with similarly blue covers; a desk with a monitor and a PC computer that glowed with multicoloured parts; and a bookcase filled with a range of books. Seeming to realise she was staring, she walked in and placed her bag next to his desk, and slipping off her shoes.

“It’s nice,” she commented.

“Oh, thanks.” They stood there for a minute, awkwardness threatening to bleed into the moment, before Armin broke the silence again. “Should we go to the bathroom? I think Grandad left some stuff in there that he thought might be helpful.”

“Okay.”

As they entered the bathroom, Armin realised that there was something missing that might cause a problem. “Ah, we don’t have a seat or anything…” he ran his fingers through his hair, thinking. “I could probably get one from the dining room, but that might be too tall…”

“It’s fine, we can sit in the bathtub.”

Unsure if she was making a joke or not, he looked at her, bewildered. When they had held eye contact for a good five seconds and her expression hadn’t changed, Armin decided that she was not, in fact, joking.

“I mean if that works for you?”

She just nodded, setting her bag of hair supplies on the edge of the tub. She gestured for him to sit down. He clambered into the bath as gracefully as he could (he came this close to slipping over on his face and making a fool of himself), and sat down. Annie gestured at a towel hanging on the back of the door.

“Can I use this?”

“Yeah,” Armin nodded, and she grabbed it, swinging it around so it rested on his shoulders, acting as a makeshift hairdresser’s cape. She settled behind him, causing him to shiver when she ran her hands through his hair suddenly, pulling it back over the towel.

“So, I’ve got red and lime green, that’s the colours you wanted, right?”

“W-what?” Armin turned around to look at her. She deadpanned. They stared at each other for a few seconds. Then she broke into a breathy laugh, eyes crinkling with pleasure.

“Ah, Armin, that was a joke,” she giggled, hand moving to cover her mouth. “You should have seen your face!”

She continued to chuckle. Armin couldn’t help but join her; her amusement was possibly one of the most beautiful things he had ever heard. He resolved to try and make her laugh as often as possible.

She was still giggling softly as she began to run her fingers through his hair, feeling it out. They lapsed into silence as she grabbed a spray bottle, and she began to work, wetting it down and running a comb through the knots.

“You have really nice hair,” she murmured, “It’s really thick for a boy.”

Armin hummed, slightly lost in the way her fingers felt running across his scalp.

They lapsed into silence after that, the only words spoken coming from Annie as she requested him to move his head slightly to get the right angles. He couldn’t help his initial flinches as he felt her fingers run across his neck on occasion, couldn’t help the shivers running up his spine when her breath brushed against his skin. She would rotate around him, scissors and comb in hand, tilting her head this way and that as she concentrated on his hair, tongue trapped beneath her teeth as she snipped away. Armin was entranced by how utterly focused she became as she worked on him; it reminded him of how it felt when he got drawn into a good book, or lost himself when he was singing a song on stage.

Armin’s Grandad arrived home when Annie brought out the clippers, preparing to work on the undercut he asked for. Armin heard the door close, footsteps moving about downstairs.

“You here, Armin?”

“In the bathroom, Grandad!” he called out.

Annie paused in her work as the older man made his way up the stairs and appeared in the doorway. “Why hello there! You must be Annie, Armin mentioned you were coming over!” He smiled warmly at the girl. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too sir.”

“Will you be staying for dinner? I was just about to whip something up quickly.”

Annie glanced over at Armin. Armin nodded at her in encouragement. “Well, I guess if you’ll have me, sir, I’d be grateful,” she said politely.

Grandad clapped his hands. “Fantastic! I’ll set the table for three then!” His eyes landed on Armin, who was sitting in a pile of his own hair in the bathtub. “Looking good, Armin!” he chuckled, making his way back downstairs.

Annie went back to plugging in the clippers. They settled back into their quiet rhythm, the soft buzz of the clippers and Annie’s soft voice the only sounds permeating the room. Finally, Armin was roused from his dream-like trance - induced by Annie’s soft fingers running through his scalp intoxicatingly - when she unwrapped the towel from his shoulders and ruffled his hair slightly, leaning around him to look at it from the front.

She bit her lip, fingers brushing back his bangs. “I think it’s done,” she murmured.

They stepped out of the tub, and Armin hesitantly turned to face the mirror. His eyes widened, and he had to consciously stop his jaw from dropping. His hair was noticeably shorter, no longer in a bob framing his face. His bangs were the same length, falling over his eyebrows, but the rest of his hair was shorter, and it all fell over a short undercut. The result made him look… older? Less boyish? He wasn’t sure, but he knew that he loved it.

He turned to Annie. She was watching him with a nervous look on her face, obviously trying to gauge his reaction. “Annie,” he ran his fingers through it, marvelling at how different it felt. “It’s amazing! Thank you so much!”

Annie’s shoulders relaxed; she was obviously relieved at his reaction. She smiled softly at him. He felt something catch in chest. Suddenly, he wondered what it would feel like to kiss her. Almost trancelike, he stared at her and took a step forward. Her eyes widened slightly. His hand reached out with the intent to cup her cheek.

“Dinner’s ready, you kids!”

And just like that, the spell was broken. Armin and Annie flinched, the former jumping back almost comically, blushing furiously. Annie avoided his eyes, glancing around at the mess in the bathtub.

Fuck.

“Uh, don’t worry about that right now Annie,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, fingers gliding over the new undercut. “Let’s go have some dinner downstairs.”

“Okay.”

****

After a filling dinner of lasagna, with his Grandad showering Annie in compliments about how good of a job she did on his hair, Armin got permission to take his car and drop her home. Ducking into the fridge while she waited by the car, Armin grabbed the box he was looking for. He made his way outside, and approached the blonde girl leaning against the car door, face illuminated by her phone.

“Here, Annie,” he smiled at her, extending the box in his hands out at her. She took it, peeking inside. It was donuts, and her eyebrows raised in pleasure. “Payment and thanks for doing such an amazing job on my hair.”

“Ah… thanks, Armin.”

They hopped in the car, Armin easing it back across the driveway, and pulling out on the road. He was amused to see Annie eagerly open the box, examine the variety of donuts inside, before grabbing a plain glazed one and biting into it. She hummed in pleasure, eyes closed. It was possibly the cutest thing Armin had ever seen.

“These are good,” she mumbled, mouth still filled with donut.

He laughed. “I’m glad you like them.”

Armin was astonished to see her finish three whole, good sized donuts during the time it took for her to direct him to her apartment block. He pulled into the carpark, and she shifted slightly, balancing her donut box carefully as she grabbed her bags.

“Well, I’ll see you around then?” She stepped out of the car awkwardly, eyes lingering on him.

Unsure whether to walk her to the door of the apartments, he ran a hand through his new hair. “Yeah, I guess,” he replied, feeling awkward all of a sudden. “Thanks again for the haircut, Annie.”

She smiled a bit at that, and waved softly, before turning and walking to the door.

Armin’s mind raced. There were so many feelings that had become un-suppressed in these few hours they spent together, and now he couldn’t help but feel like he was letting some crucial opportunity pass by. Just as she reached the landing, he made up his mind.

Jumping out of the car, he called out to her.

“Annie!”

She turned, looking surprised. He jogged up to her, face burning.

“I- I, uh wanted to thank you again for today. I mean, uh, like this, I guess..”

Before he lost his nerve, he stepped closer, looking into her wide eyes. He leaned forward, and gently pressed his lips to hers. He felt her body tense up, but she didn’t pull away. A few seconds passed, and he straightened. She just stood there, and the look on her face reminded Armin of a deer stuck in headlights.

Shit. She didn’t want that.

He tilted his head up, grateful for the darkening sky that concealed his flaming face. “Uh, well, yeah. Sorry. Goodnight, Annie.” He turned away, feeling like an idiot.

“Armin, wait.”

Armin froze, shocked.

Surely not.

He turned slowly, and saw Annie placing her donuts and bags on the ground. She pushed her bangs behind her ears and strode up to him. Before he could process what was happening, she grabbed his shirt, pulled him down, and kissed him.

And just like that, it all clicked into place. He melted into her grasp, one arm wrapping around her waist, the other coming to rest on her cheek. She tasted sweet, the donut glaze lingering on her tongue. Her lips were softer than he could have ever imagined.

They stood there, wrapped up in each other for what felt like eternity, but was likely only a few minutes. Eventually, they parted, hands still lingering on each other, unwilling to let go. Annie gazed into his eyes, a slightly starstruck look lingering in hers. Armin was sure he looked no better.

“Uh, well, you’re welcome, I guess?” she whispered.

A wide grin split his face. Chuckling, he pulled her in again. And again.

Armin resolved to thank Hitch for her haircut suggestion as soon as possible.

#aruani #hitch dreyse #annie leonhardt #armin arlert #request #these three have the best dynamic #i love them sm

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supernatural-jackles · 4 years

Text

The Man on the Side of the Road - Part 6

Title: The Man on the Side of the Road - Part 6

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 5,106

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of Periods, Pregnancy, Tears, Mentions of Abuse, Cheating, Depression, Toxic Relationships, Fluff.

Summary: Driving down the road, going well over the speed limit. You come across a man walking in the opposite direction with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. His head cast down as he walked. Your gut instinct is telling you to check on this man, no matter what your parents told you growing up. Little did you know just how much this would change your life.

The Man on the Side of the Road - Masterlist

A/N: I hope y’all enjoy this part! As always feedback is greatly appreciated!! Happy Reading!!!!

You loved Friday’s. They were your absolute favourite day of the week. It was the end of the school week. Your classes finished at noon. You had the entire weekend to look forward to and you couldn’t wait to sleep in as late as you wanted to. It was the first weekend since school started that you had off. No working at the hospital. No interruptions. Just a weekend of you time.

You had a lot planned this weekend, in a good sense anyways. There was so much that needed done in the short amount of time you had. You knew you couldn’t put it off any longer. It was all necessary things. Dean had given you the car for the day, and you dropped him off at work this time around. He was going to continue working on baby on Sunday, and you agreed to come with him. He wanted to teach you a few things about cars, as he put it anyways. You had to get some laundry done. It was your turn to do the groceries.

You walked off campus, heading towards your car to leave for the day. It was a cooler day than most had been. You were having a really off day, and you couldn’t take your mind off of everything. You didn’t know if there was something going on, or if it was just the day itself. Something just felt off. You needed to get some air and take some time for yourself.

“Y/N, wait up!” a voice called out from behind you. The person was too far away for you to recognize their voice, but by the sounds of it, it was a girl. You turned around to find Ruby running towards you with her bag. A slightly panicked look on her face.

“Hey!” you smiled at her.

“I have an emergency,” she called out, almost completely out of breath. Her brown hair clinging to her face just a little. “I just got my period, and I don’t have anything. Do you?”

“Of course I do,” you nodded. You opened up your bag, reaching in the side pocket to grab her a tampon out of it. You were always prepared for those days. Having an accident once changes everything. “Here.”

“You are a lifesaver! Thank god we’re on the same cycle,” she breathed out. “I gotta go, I’ll see you Monday morning. Have a good weekend with Dean.”

“Thanks,” you smiled. Ruby took off towards the campus a little slower than she was before. You knew her next class didn’t start for another half hour. She had time to get ready before then.

You opened up your car door, slipping inside. You put your bag in the passenger’s seat, and pulled your phone out to plug in your music. Something Dean helped you set up. You were pretty sure he used it when he dropped you off but he would likely never admit it. Your heart completely dropped in your chest. Ruby said that she was happy you were on the same cycle, and she was more than right. You had been for the longest time. You opened up your tracking app instantly, searching to see if she was right.

You were late. Your last period was the day before your wedding day, and it didn’t last more than a few days. Oh god no. No!

You peeled out of the parking lot, heading straight for the drug store. Just when you thought that you were finally done with Ketch. When you were finally free of him and could move on. This had to happen. You knew you should have stayed on the pill. You knew you should have taken more care of yourself. You knew you should have kept your word about not sleeping with him until after your wedding day like you both wanted to, to make it special. This was never the plan. This was never supposed to happen. Not this soon. You weren’t ready for something like this.

The last month and a bit had been crazy. Between leaving Ketch, finding Dean. Living with Dean, school and homework. Your mental health and his. You remember getting your last period but it was much lighter than what it was usually like. It was better to be safe than sorry. You wanted to be one hundred percent sure that you were okay. You needed to move past that time of your life and start the new beginning. You had no idea why parts of him kept coming back to you, dragging you down.

You headed straight for the women’s health section, going straight to the end of the aisle. All the brands were there. You had no idea what test was the best. You had never been in this position before. You were always cautious up until this point. You went with the clear blue test because it was advertised the most. It had to be one of the best.

You knew you had to get some grocery shopping done and that would help ease your mind. It was your week to do it after all, and you didn’t want to make Dean wait for his stuff. You didn’t want him to have to run out later and pick up a few things. You were already out and you had the car. The test could wait until after. The results weren’t going to change. You were going to go crazy if you went home this early.

Dean gave you a list of a few things he needed. Shaving cream, shampoo, and razors. You figured you’d pick him up one of those pies you heat up in the oven for twenty minutes. It wasn’t homemade persay, but it would satisfy him no matter what. You had no idea what the plan was for dinner tonight so you picked up taco shells, and some other supplies to make for a good night. Then you grabbed the usual things you needed. Granola bars, fruits and vegetables, bread, chips. Before you knew it, you were one hundred and fifty dollars poorer and had groceries. The joys of being a responsible adult.

You threw your test in one of the grocery bags before chucking them all in the trunk of the car. Dean wasn’t going to be home to help you put them away. He didn’t finish until after six. By then you’d know and you could go about your usual Friday night. Today marked six weeks since you met Dean. You wanted to celebrate a little, and that was what the pie was for. You wanted to show him you were happy he was there with you. He was the best roommate you could ever ask for.

You pulled into your driveway, taking up half of it. You couldn’t wait to get the rest of the garage cleaned up so you could park in there, or Dean could when he got his car all fixed up. You popped the trunk. You knew you weren’t going to get all the groceries in the house in one go. It was going to be at least another two trips.

“Need some help?” a deep voice filled your ears.

“Dean!” you grinned, seeing him in his dirty jeans and fitted t-shirt from work. “It’s three in the afternoon. Did you get off early?”

“Yeah. Finished everything early. Bobby has something he needs to do. He dropped me off,” he told you. He had the last two remaining bags in his hands. “I see you went grocery shopping.”

“I picked up your stuff. It’s in one of these bags,” you chuckled.

“We’ll find it when we put it away,” he half smiled.

“I bought taco shells, and stuff to go with it if you want to do that for dinner,” you suggested.

“Yeah, that sounds awesome,” he nodded. “I see you bought pie.”

“For you,” you winked.

“Bestest friend in the world,” he let out a laugh. “We’re having this tonight.”

“That we are,” you agreed.

You stuck with putting away the fruit and vegetables while Dean put away the other stuff. It was quite the team effort. It was nice to have someone help you put it away. It made it much quicker. You were really looking forward to the dinner you had planned. Even if it was messy.

“Uh Y/N,” Dean called out.

“What’s up?” you questioned, turning around to look at him. Your body went rigid. He held the pregnancy test in his hand. You completely forgot you put it in one of the grocery bags, thinking he wouldn’t see it. He wasn’t supposed to be home after all.

“Are - is this yours?” he asked calmly.

“Uh,” you sighed in defeat. “I - yeah.” Your eyes cast downwards. You were hit with it all again. The potential reality of your situation. The rest of your life was going to be determined by that test. Now Dean knew too. This wasn’t what you had planned.

“I can sit with you if you’d like. You know, while you wait,” he offered. You glanced up, meeting his eyes, seeing the concern in them.

“Yeah?” you breathed out nervously.

“Of course,” he nodded.

“Thank you,” you mouthed.

You lead Dean to your room. He had the test in his hand. You couldn’t deny just how scared you were. The mere thought of something growing inside you was enough to make your stomach uneasy. That something was going to turn into a human one day. Something that was a part of you and a part of Ketch. You weren’t ready for that. You weren’t nearly prepared for that.

“I’m just going to go do this,” you whispered. “I’ll let you know when you can come in.”

“Okay,” he nodded.

You headed in your bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You could do this. Dean was right out there with you. You weren’t doing this alone. No matter what that test said, you had Dean tonight. He was your friend. He was your best friend. He was the bestest friend you could ever ask for. He was the one here for you when no one else was.

You pushed your jeans and panties down your legs, taking a seat on the toilet. You took the box, reading over the instructions quickly before taking the test out. You positioned it between your legs, your hand shaking profusely as you did so. You took a deep breath, trying to relax as you peed on the tiny, life changing stick.

You grabbed some toilet paper, placing the stick on top of it on the counter before you cleaned up. You had to wait three minutes until the test would be finished. That was a fucking lifetime. You flushed the toilet and washed your hands. You didn’t want to leave the bathroom. You couldn’t. You wanted to leave knowing what was happening with your life. You took a seat on the floor, your back resting against the wall.

“You can come in now, “ you called out to Dean. Seconds later, the bathroom door opened and Dean’s eyes scanned the room, soon falling on your figure on the floor. Dean’s lip curled up as he made his way to the floor next to you. His arm brushed against yours as he sat.

“How long do we have to wait?”

“Three minutes or so,” you answered.

“I know this is probably a stupid question. I’m going to ask it anyways,” he breathed out, “are you okay?”

“I’m trying my hardest to be, Dean,” you told him. Your lip quivered just a little.

“I want you to know that whatever that test says; I’ll stick by you. I know that the little peanut isn’t mine, but I’ll be there,” he stated, reaching his hand over to yours, taking it in his own.

“Dean-”

“I mean it. You’re not going through this alone,” he declared.

“I honestly thought I had seen the last of Ketch. I thought he was out of my life now and then this. I’m hoping that I’m not,” you told him.

“Well, I’ve been here for a little over a month now. How late are you?” he asked you. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure I got my period last month. I started the day before my wedding was supposed to be, but it didn’t feel like a full period,” you shared. “So it either could be a lighter period or spotting. Either way, I gotta check.”

“Yeah, definitely,” he nodded. “I hope you’re not so you won’t have to talk to Ketch anymore. You seemed to be doing better.”

“Me too,” you nodded.

“Did you love him?” he asked you. If you were being honest, you were waiting for him to ask you something along those lines. Especially after he found out it was Ketch.

“I want to be able to say yes,” you started, taking a deep breath. “I really do. At one point, my answer would have been yes. But I think I loved the idea of him more and what he came with. Our relationship wasn’t always arguments. Not in the beginning anyway.”

“What do you mean?” he cocked his eyebrow.

“When he asked me out the night we met, I was excited. It was the first time a guy had asked me out. It was the first time a guy had shown interest in me first, and it was strange. It was exciting. This older, good looking guy wants to take me out to dinner. Little did I know what I was in for back then. When I told my mom who I was going out with, she was ecstatic. It was the first time I felt like I had done something to make her proud of me. Everyone knew who Ketch and his family were. Ketch had connections. His parents were friends with my mom and had been for a long time according to them. Although, my dad says differently when I asked him. All I’ve ever wanted my entire life was for my mom to love me unconditionally like my dad did. I want her to be proud of me, and care about me and I felt like Ketch made ther care. Because I was with someone who was classy, and their family was great and would take care of me. I didn’t care about any of that. I just wanted to feel like I was loved. Like I meant something to someone. That’s one of the reasons why I said yes when he asked me to marry him. I would finally do something to make my mom love me like my dad always has. I just said yes without thinking about it. I wanted to make her happy. I wanted to make her love me. But I’ll never be the perfect daughter that she always dreamed about. I’ll never be Mrs Ketch, and the perfect housewife. Our relationship was good before everyone else got involved, that's how I know that there was a part of me that did love him. But I know that the love I had for him hasn’t been there for a lot longer than I’d like to admit.”

“You shouldn’t have to fight for your mom’s love, Y/N,” Dean reminded you. “That’s not how it works.”

“I know,” you nodded. “I really hope that I’m not pregnant. Not now. Not yet.”

“You want kids?” he questioned, squeezing your hand.

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “I’d love one or two at some point. But not like this. I want my kid to have two parents that love each other to raise them. I never pictured having one with Ketch. It would have been just like my parents when I was growing up. I don’t want to put them through a divorce at twelve and weekends at dads. I want to raise mine completely different. My kid is never going to doubt my love for them. They are never going to feel the regret and disappointment I felt when my mom looked at me. They are never going to doubt whether they are beautiful or smart. They are going to know that I’m proud of them everyday.”

“If you are, whatever you decide, I’m not going anywhere,” he reassured you. “You’re going to make an amazing mother. I don’t doubt that for a second.”

“Thank you,” you breathed out.

“And for the record, your mother doesn't know what she is missing out on. It really sucks to be her, because you are amazing. I’m proud of you. I’m proud to be your friend, hell I’m proud to know you. You are going to have a family someday. You’re going to marry someone and he’s going to be the luckiest guy in the world.”

“I really hope you’re right,” you breathed out. “And for the record, I’m proud of you too, Dean. I’m proud of you everyday. I don’t tell you that enough. You’re doing so good. I wish you could see it from where I am.”

“Me too,” he nodded. “I’m only doing so good ‘cause I’ve got a badass on my side.”

“Oh stop,” you giggled. “Can you check the test for me? I’m too scared.”

��Yeah,” he breathed out, releasing your hand. He pushed off the wall, standing up tall before heading over to the counter. He picked the test up, carefully reading whatever was on it. “Negative. Not pregnant.”

“Thank fucking god,” you breathed out, burying your head in your hands. You let out a sob of relief. That was the final straw. You were completely free from Ketch. It was all over. You had no ties left.

“Hey,” Dean muttered, taking his seat next to you once more “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

“I know,” you sniffled. “Just scary.”

“You’re tough,” he told you. “You can handle anything life throws at you.”

“I’m so happy to have someone like you in my life,” you confessed. You lifted your head up, turning to look at him. He gave you a soft smile. “I wish I would have met you sooner.”

“Me too,” he agreed. “But we’re here now.”

“Yeah. And there is no one I’d rather spend my Friday nights with than you,” you stated. A small smile spread across your cheeks. You watched his lips curl upwards at your words. It meant the world to you that he sat with you and waited. Even more that he said he’d stick around if that test turned out to be positive. Your eyes focused on his gorgeous green eyes as you leaned over, not even thinking about it, you brushed your lips against his stubbly cheek.

“What was that for?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

“For saying you’d stick around if I was. No one would have done that. Not for me,” you shrugged. “And because I wanted to.”

“C’mon,” he stood up once more. He held his hand out to you, offering to help you up. “Let’s go make some tacos. You haven’t had them Winchester style. And I’m starving.”

It took you and Dean an hour to get everything for the tacos ready. Dean explained to you that Winchester style meant adding a lot of cheese to whatever it was. In this case, he added cheese to the taco shells before he put them in the oven. Then added it into the taco meat along with a little extra spice that he wouldn’t tell you about. You didn’t care. It was just making dinner with him that you loved the most.

Sitting down and eating it together was even better. Watching him try and eat the taco without making a mess made you laugh more than anything. There was a part of you that thought he was trying to make you laugh, but even he couldn’t do some of it on purpose. It was nice of you to relieve the tension from the day. It was really nice to have someone to laugh with. Someone who understood you.

“Let’s just put these in the dishwasher. I don’t feel like doing the dishes tonight,” you suggested.

“Me either,” he chuckled. “What do you want to do tonight?”

“You wanna have a campfire out back? I picked up marshmallows, graham crackers and chocolate when I went grocery shopping.”

“Yeah lets do that,” he said with excitement. “I haven’t had a s’more in a long time.”

You had to grab a sweater from your room before you headed outside. It was getting colder at night now that fall was on its way. Sure the campfire would keep you both warm, you just needed something a little extra, just in case. Dean had grabbed an oversized hoodie from his room. It was far too big, even for him. He looked comfortable in it. It made you smile to see it hang off his body.

You were able to get the fire started with just a few logs you had. Dean had brought over the table so you could put the box of graham crackers on and the marshmallows. You took a seat on the swing right by the fire pit. It had been years since you had a campfire in the backyard. You always planned to have one, and every time it either rained or something came up.

“Every fourth of July, my dad would have a campfire out back,” Dean began. “We’d roast hotdogs over the fire, and my little brother would always complain that his was too burnt to eat. My dad would have to cook him another one that wasn’t burnt for him to eat it.”

“Let me guess, you had to eat the burnt one?” you giggled.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I didn’t mind.”

“You miss your brother?” you asked him.

“Sometimes,” he shrugged. “He doesn’t want to hear from me, so I don’t really try. I got tired of the unanswered calls, and the ignored voicemails. It’s clear he doesn’t want me to be a part of his life.”

“You said it’s been awhile since you last saw him.”

“Seven years,” he breathed out. “He never came back when dad died.”

“That’s rough,” you frowned. “Have you tried visiting? It’s kind of hard to avoid someone if they are right there.”

“Yeah I’ve thought about it. But what’s the point?”

“Just to see him. He may not care, but it’s very clear to me that you do,” you pointed out. “I have a week off coming up in the middle of October. Why don’t you take some time off work and we can take a road trip to see him? And if he doesn’t, then we can explore. Road Trips are fun. Maybe you’ll have baby done by then too.”

“You’d really go on a road trip with me? It’s like a thirty hour drive,” he reminded you.

“So? We can stop along the way. I’ve only been outside Kansas like twice. We’d have the week. We could take turns driving.”

“I’ll think about it,” he nodded with a soft smile. “Thanks for the offer.”

You started roasting your first marshmallow, trying to get it as perfect as you could. You wanted a nice golden brown before you could eat it. You knew that somehow, someway, you were going to burn it. The odd time, you glanced over at Dean, taking him in the best you could when you did. He really was doing much better. He was getting better and better everyday that went by. That’s all you wanted.

Your phone buzzed in your front pocket, catching you completely off guard. You reached in, pulling it out. Ruby’s name spread across the top of your screen, along with her picture. You had no idea why she was calling. As far as you know, she had plans for the night. She usually did on Friday nights. You slid your thumb across the bottom of the screen.

“Hey Ruby,” you greeted her, “everything okay?”

“What? Yeah,” she asked confused. “Are you sitting down?”

“Uh yeah. Why?”

“I’m about to tell you something and I don’t know how well you’re going to take this,” she said nervously. “You didn’t hear this from me okay? I’m sure you’re going to hear it from more than just me but I had to be the first one.”

“Ruby, you’re making me really nervous here. Can you just spill it? How bad can it be?” you asked her.

“Jo’s four months pregnant,” she revealed. You swore your heart sank in your chest. You felt a lump forming in your throat.

“Is - is it-”

“Yeah. It’s Ketch’s,” she breathed out. “She told us all earlier tonight. Ketch is the only one she’s been with for a while now.”

“Did she tell you how long they had been - been together?”

“Two years. Y/N, I’m really sorry,” she said sadly. “You know I would have told you if I knew sooner than I did. I just found out tonight. Suzy knew the whole time. Anna didn’t know, and she’s pissed for you. I’m not going to talk to her anymore, I promise. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you breathed out, tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m fine. I’m okay. Look, I’m going to go.”

“Y/N, don’t bury this underneath everything like you’ve been doing,” she warned you.

“Ruby. I’m okay,” you reassured her. “I’m okay. I’m happy that everyone is going to find out about this.”

“A lot of people already know,” she shared. “That’s why I had to tell you before you found out from someone else.”

“Thanks for telling me,” you muttered.

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine. I’m just going to continue my night with Dean. Nothing has changed,” you stated. “See you when I see you.”

“What was that about?” Dean furrowed his brows.

“Uh, that was Ruby,” you took a deep breath. “Jo is four months pregnant. It’s his.”

“W-what?” his jaw dropped.

“They’ve apparently been together for two years. Behind my back,” you whispered. “Thank god that test was negative.”

“I know you said you’re fine on the phone, but are you really?” he questioned.

“No. I’m not,” you shook your head. “I feel like I wasted the last three years of my life with someone who literally lied, cheated, and abused me. God knows what else to me.”

“Don’t blame yourself for this, Y/N,” he frowned.

“It’s hard not to, Dean,” you sniffled. “I spent so much time trying to fix everything when he didn’t care nearly as much as I did. I feel like a fucking idiot. Two years he was with my best friend. Two years! I - I don’t even know what to think right now.”

“You’re not an idiot,” he stated, reaching his hand over to you. “It says a lot about him. Not you. You were faithful the entire time. You did nothing wrong in this. You have a right to feel absolutely everything you’re feeling.”

“I should have trusted my gut when it told me that Ketch and I weren’t going to last. I should have trusted myself more and not him,” you whispered. “I should have gotten out sooner.”

“It’s going to be okay, Y/N. You’re going to be okay,” he reminded you.

“I’m totally selling my wedding dress tomorrow,” you sniffled. “Could make a couple grand off it. Not my money anyways. I don’t want a single reminder of him in her. Not a single thing.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” he nodded. “C’mere. Let’s just enjoy the evening by the fire.” Dean opened his arm for you to move into. For a second, you were hesitant, but eventually, gave into his embrace. You didn’t want to admit just how much you needed it. You felt this ache in your chest from the damage that Ketch has caused. Sure he was going to look like an asshole, and that made you feel pretty good. But Ketch was the first guy who told you he loved you. He was the first guy who showed interest in you. Who’s to say what happened with him won’t happen with the next person you were with. You weren’t the kind of girl that guys drooled over. You were simple, and you had a shit ton of issues with you. No one was going to want to be with someone like you. Someone that needed fixed.

You weren’t fucking good enough.

“You feel better?” he asked you.

“I wish I could say yes,” you swallowed hard. “But I don’t.”

“That’s okay. I’d be concerned if you did,” he let out a dry chuckle. “For the record, Ketch is a dick.”

“Oh I know,” you let out a laugh. “I should probably tell you that I have emergency money stashed in my room. In case I see him, punch him in the face and get arrested.”

“Good to know,” he smiled. “I meant what I said earlier. Anyone would be lucky to be with you.”

“How is a guy like you single?” you inquired. “You’re cute, funny, smart. You’re one of the best cooks I know. You’re sweet. I don’t know how you don’t have girls lining up to date you.”

“No girl wants a guy with severe depression,” he shrugged. “I’m not really a long term kind of guy.”

“That’s fair. You’re right. No girl wants to date a guy they have to take care of,” you agreed. “You need a woman. They can handle anything.”

“Exactly,” he laughed. “Eh, maybe I’ll put myself out there again.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, why not?” he licked his lips. “I haven’t been doing so bad lately. Maybe I’m up for a date or two.”

“I’m proud of you,” you smiled. “You’ve come so far in such little time.”

“I have you to thank for that. Bestest friend I could ask for. I know that it’s not going to be easy all the time, and I know there are going to be days where I feel horrible, but I know I’ve got you on those days. I know I’m going to be okay.”

“Yeah you are,” you smiled. His words really sank in. In a way, you were jealous. He was getting better and you were slowly getting worse. Things weren’t getting easier for you, and you just couldn’t bear to put it all on Dean. He was doing good, and you didn’t want to ruin his improvement by telling him that you weren’t. It was hard enough the day you had a panic attack. It wasn’t fair to hurt someone else. You’d be okay over time. You’d survive.

You had so far.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 7 Coming Tuesday!

Did you like it? What was your favourite part? Share your thoughts with me via reblog, reply or send me an ask! Your response is what keeps me going!

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letsbenditlikebennett · 3 years

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FroYO What The F&*% Is Up, Kyle? || Ariana & Kyle

TIMING: Before Kyle did Bex a big yikes PARTIES: @darkh0wl & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: Just two wolves who sniffed each other out in a yogurt shop, as you do.

Okay, so maybe it was winter and maybe it was too cold for frozen yogurt. But a craving is a craving, so Kyle had to satisfy it. He headed down to Flagg’s Froyo, avoided the sticky tiles inside the shop, and found a table with his cup that was honestly more topping than yogurt. He leaned back in his chair, eating specifically the popping boba one at a time. Kyle closed his eyes for a moment, relishing in the mouthfeel of boba, but he could smell...something. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what, but there was a familiar sort of smell. His brow furrowed as he breathed in deeper and looked around for the source of the smell.

The only reason her frozen yogurt hadn’t melted had to be due to the temperature alone. Even with talking through what she was feeling, Ariana still found visiting Chloe had left her feeling heavier. Like so many other effort she’d made to help others, it just seemed to crumble in her hands. At this point, she wasn’t sure which felt worse-- trying to help or not trying at all. She had stopped by here after class as a means of killing time. Athena was out at the sorority house planning some sort of event and the thought of just hanging around the apartment alone felt like too much. At least here, the constant thrum of background noise kept her somewhat stable. She stirred around her frozen yogurt with her spoon yet again and almost didn’t even pick up on the smell until it was practically hitting her in the face. Her head whipped up as she saw a guy not much older than her standing in front of her who was undoubtedly also a wolf. It was likely what drew him over to her to begin with. “You can sit,” she said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, “I’m Ari. Take it your nose brought you this way?”

Kyle didn’t honestly know what his game plan was once he was already headed toward the other table. He didn’t know why he was following this scent or what it even was. Now that he was standing in front of this girl, he felt like a major creep, but she seemed excited. Kyle did as she said and sat across from her in a bit of a daze. She smelled so familiar. Like home in a way that Kyle hadn’t really experienced before. Sure, he’d smelled the same thing out and about before--in passing, on full moons, maybe on some patrons at the bar--but never in a context that meant anything. “Uh, I’m Kyle. What do you mean my nose brought me this way? How did you know?”

As Kyle took a seat with her, Ariana quirked a brow up. Almost immediately it was easy to tell he hadn’t met another wolf before. How new was he to this? Hopefully not quite as out of the loop as Luis. Even there, she wasn’t even sure how good her help did. She swirled some of the strawberry froyo around in the cup and shook her head. “Like, literally, your nose brought you here. It’s a wolf thing,” she said nonchalantly. Sure, this was serious, but she couldn’t beat around the bush. Not right now. It was too exhausting, but she did quickly add, “You do know what you are, right?”

The bold, blunt statement of, “It’s a wolf thing,” caught Kyle off guard. He couldn’t help the look of surprise that washed over his face. He hadn’t met another, he’d just sort of figured everything out on his own, trial and error style. Kyle set his cup of froyo toppings down and ran a hand through his hair. Was she--was Ari a wolf, too? Or how had she known? He sighed in mild annoyance. “Of course I know what I am. But how did you know? Are you--y’know, a wolf, too?” He paused for just a beat before adding, “Or are you, like, a mindreader?”

It was hard to keep a straight face as Kyle was clearly taken aback by her words. Ariana had never been so great at the whole beating around the bush thing. It didn’t help that it was also the exhausting route and she was already pretty tired. Then he was asking if she was a wolf or a mind reader and she shook her head. Oh, Kyle. She’d only just met him, but this felt like a very Kyle thing to do based on all the internet memes. “Both,” she said to him with a nearly convincing serious face before a smirk broke out. “Okay, just a wolf. But you made that way too easy.” If he couldn’t immediately discern she was also a wolf, she had the feeling he was still new to all of this. Or at least he hadn’t met other wolves before. “So, how long have you been-- well, you know?” She made a little claw motion with her hands as she asked the last part.

For a second, Kyle’s mouth hung open in surprise. A mind reader?! That was incredible, and already his mind was churning with a hundred questions. But then Ari was smirking and his excitement waned. “Wait, so you’re not a mind reader? Bummer. That sounds dope as hell.” The pieces were clicking together now. Why Kyle could smell her so well, why she smelled so familiar, and even why he felt so oddly at ease with her. He tried to shove that last feeling down. He was a lone wolf and no one was going to change that. “Oh, me? I’ve been a wolf since high school. But I’m kind of the only one I know. Or, I guess I was until I met you.” He shrugged, brow furrowing as he looked back down at his froyo. A creeping question lurked at the back of his mind. Would things be different if he’d met someone sooner? Would he have become a part of some kind of pack? The thought unsettled him in a way he couldn’t pin down, so he cleared his throat and began talking again. “What about you? How long have you been…?” he mimicked the claw motion with a hand, a smirk crossing his face now, too.

Ariana almost felt bad that Kyle had seemingly fallen for her joke about mind reading. As cool as that skill may have been, there was a lot she preferred not to know. That and the world was loud enough already. Especially closer to a full moon. She didn’t need the additional ruckus of other people’s thoughts filling her head. “No, definitely not a mind reader,” she said as she shook her head, “Wolves are cooler anyway.” As she took a bite of her lemon raspberry froyo she could see him beginning to understand. So, he wasn’t necessarily too new to this wolf thing, but new enough that he didn’t know others like them. “High school… how old are you now? Had to be a tough change to make during high school, but you seem to have a pretty good grip of the whole wolf thing.” At least as much as she could tell from their current setting. Hell, at least he knew what he was already and wasn’t trying to actively push her away. She found herself laughing a bit as he mirrored her own motions. “I was born a wolf,” she explained, “My parents were wolves, too. I didn’t really- It wasn’t until recently I actually got to meet others like us. I was pretty young when my parents died.” Murdered would have been a more accurate term, but Kyle seemed comfortable with her, it was probably best to not totally freak him out. “Have you been staying safe? Do you have a good place to spend the full moons?”

“Dang, I was starting to hope this whole being a wolf thing had the added bonus of mind reading. Like, maybe I just had to unlock more levels,” Kyle said, grinning. “You’re right, though. Wolves are cooler.” He took another bite of his topping cup and nodded along with what Ari was saying. She was right. It had been a hard transition in high school. He was just figuring himself out and then he had added being a wolf on top of it. It had shaped him, for better or worse, into sort of who he was now. “I’m 22,” he said and shrugged. “I feel like I have a pretty good hold on things. Give or take.” Take. It was definitely take, but he’d just met this wolf. He didn’t want her to know too too much. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. So Ari had had a long time to practice this whole wolf thing. Maybe that’s why she was so calm about talking about this over froyo. He had questions to ask about being born a wolf--he hadn’t even really thought about werewolves being born, though it made sense--but then Ari casually dropped it on him that her parents were dead. Any smile from his face slowly fell and he let his spoon sink back into his cup. “Oh-- I-- I’m sorry about your parents. I can’t imagine that’s easy, on top of being a wolf.” But she pressed on with questions, so Kyle did his best to oblige her. “What do you mean good place?” he asked. “I mean, I’m staying as safe as I can in a weird town like this. I’m kind of just...driving to the edge of town during a full moon, and I just roam the forest, you know? Usually, I make it all the way out of town, too.” Oops, had that been too much? She didn’t need to know how fragile his grip on control was. Not now.

So Kyle wasn’t too much older than she was, though she had kind of guessed as much. Ariana was eager to have another wolf that was her age to hang out with. Part of her immediately thought that Kyle and Luis would probably get along well. “Nice, I just turned 19 a few weeks ago,” she told him with a smile, “That’s pretty amazing. It’s always a give and take sort of thing, but easier to stay safe if you have a better grasp of the whole thing. I think really riding into it helps?” It was hard to control something you denied, which at least Luis was past that phase. She could tell Kyle seemed surprised she had been born a wolf. So, outside of being a wolf and her being the first one he’d met, he really wasn’t all that well versed in this stuff. That was okay, she’d fill him on everything he needed to know. Plus, she’d introduce him to the others which would give him a whole little community. She took another big bite of her yogurt before she realized he was apologizing. No matter how much she’d heard it, she was always thrown off. “Oh, it’s fin- I’m okay,” she assured easily, “My older sister had always taken good care of me. Don’t get me wrong, losing family sucks, but like, I’m okay. And I think the wolf stuff is a little easier if you don’t know anything else, you know?” Or, at least it felt like she was starting to be. She’d had plenty of time to grieve her parents, it was the more recent losses that seemed to haunt her recently, but she was healing. She was having more good days than bad and that was something, right? She shook those thoughts away and answered his question. “A good place far away from town where you can just be a wolf without worrying about others,” she explained, “It sounds like you have a pretty good setup in place though. Still, I wouldn't mind having someone to hang out with on the full moon. I go pretty deep out into the forest. I have a few different spots I rotate between to keep hunters from catching onto where I am. So if you wanted to join…” She didn’t want to force him, but she’d feel a lot more secure that the other wolves were staying out of trouble if they were together.

So, Ari was younger than Kyle and clearly in better control over the wolf thing. That made him feel unexpectedly bad, never mind that she had had way more time to gain control. He nodded along with what she said about embracing the wolf thing. “Yeah, I agree. The whole being ashamed of what I am thing, it’s--it’s not for me. I like being a wolf. It’s way cool.” He took another bite of his toppings, popping boba in his mouth one by one as he listened to Ari speak about her family. That was heavy. He wouldn’t be coping as well as she seemed to be, that was for sure. “Still,” he said, once his mouth was empty, “it’s not easy and I’m sorry you have to go through that. I’m glad you’re doing okay with it.” He balked at the offer to join her on a full moon. That wasn’t something he’d ever considered. What if he hurt her? It wouldn’t be intentional, sure, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a possibility. He barely knew her. How could he even be sure she wasn’t somehow working with hunters? That was a ridiculous thought, though. One that Kyle brushed aside as he considered her offer. “Uh,” he started. Did he want to say yes? Did he want to commit to something he was probably going to regret later? “I don’t know,” he said, his brows pulling together. “I think I’ve been doing pretty good by myself. I haven’t seen any hunters. I’ll think about it, though.” He wouldn’t think about it. Kyle had already made his decision, whether he would admit that to himself or not. He didn’t want to be connected to someone who could possibly count on him. Not now. The circumstances didn’t feel right. He was a lone wolf, and he didn’t want to change that now. Ari seemed nice enough, but he didn’t want to be vulnerable in front of someone else.

Ariana found okay to be a fairly relative thing. She’d had nearly sixteen years to cope with what had happened to her family. Even Celeste, Sammy, Winn… time had passed. There were still days where a memory or thought could throw her for a loop, but she could manage easier now. She could keep moving forward even though her life would no longer look like she had always pictured it. She could adjust, mostly because she had to. She’d always had to adjust in some way or another and grief, pain-- it wasn’t all that different except in the fact it was harder. “Thanks,” she said as she moved some mochi around with her spoon. She wasn’t sure what else to say so she eagerly awaited his answer about joining her on the full moon, only to be disappointed. For some reason, he’d rather spend the moon alone even though instinct seemed to pull them together. “Oh,” she started slowly, “I mean, I have too, just thought it’d be nice to spend it hunting together. See who can catch the biggest buck and all that.” She wasn’t sure why the rejection stung so she busied herself with her yogurt again momentarily. When she really thought about it, all she really wanted was to help and have it go well. She wanted to fulfill that purpose of bridging the supernatural worlds together in a way Celeste had started, but Celeste had always been so much better with people. What would she do? A joke to lighten the mood was all Ariana could come up with. “What,” she said with a smirk that felt forced, “You think I’ll slow you down or something?”

Kyle’s lips pressed into a thin line. He didn’t miss that Ari had genuinely wanted him to join her on the full moon. After what he’d done to his mother… He shuddered and tried to play it off by setting his spoon down and mumbling something about brain freeze. That bought him enough time to consider her request even more fully. He hadn’t known that other wolves hunted on the full moon. It made sense, but he hadn’t really considered it for himself. Would they eat the deer they took down? Kyle wrinkled his nose at the thought. “Do you eat the deer?” he asked, prodding at his frozen yogurt. That didn’t sound like the most appetizing way to go about things, but he didn’t want to judge Ari too harshly. “I’ve never hunted anything. I guess I’m almost worried you’d speed me up,” he said with a chuckle. “I usually just...run, I guess.” He didn’t really think about it, he just went to the forest and let himself go. He let himself forget all of his human worries and just be free. Most of the time, he was in the woods, anyway. Sometimes, he didn’t quite make it out of town. But even then, he just spent the night chasing rabbits or the occasional stray cat. He never caught them, but he had fun trying.

Ariana watched Kyle carefully as she tried to make sense of his body language. It seemed as if he was considering her offer at the very least though she couldn’t be too sure. As she set her own nearly finished yogurt down, confusion crossed her features. Her head tilted curiously and her eyes widened a bit that he asked if she ate the deer. The answer seemed obvious though when he mentioned he just ran, concern started brewing in her stomach. “Uhm, yeah,” she looked around carefully before lowering her voice to a whisper, “The full moon makes us kind of bloodthirsty and all. Better deer than the alternative. So, I fuck off deep into the forest and just let instinct take over.” The thought of just running didn’t quite add up to werewolf nature though and she had the feeling he wasn’t being entirely truthful with her. While she didn’t necessarily want to call him out and push him away when he likely needed her experience, she had to bring it up somehow. “You just… run,” she asked slowly. Her wide eyes didn’t do much to hide her disbelief as she started to fiddle with her spoon again. “That’s… I really think you should join me. I’d really enjoy the company and we’re kind of pack creatures by nature and all.” Her mind briefly thought of Luis who was also new to this and went through struggles she couldn’t quite understand. She sat up a little straighter and quickly added, “Actually, I have a friend I want you to meet. He’s-- well, he’s really new to all of this and trying to figure things out. Since I’ve always been like this, I kind of worry I can’t really relate to him as well as he needs, you know?”

Kyle had to take a moment to process that Ari ate the deer. He hadn’t eaten--...had he? The creeping realization that, in fact, he probably had eaten the stray cats and wild rabbits he chased made his stomach flip. He set the cup of yogurt down and nudged it away from himself. How many missing cat posters had been put up because of him? Kyle swallowed thickly and bit his lower lip. “I--I’m not sure. I mean, I don’t eat--or I didn’t think I ate things like that? Maybe I do? I don’t know. I’m not new new to this, but I don’t know if I’m the right candidate to--what did you say? Fuck off into the woods?” He didn’t know who this friend Ari spoke of was, but Kyle knew that he couldn’t relate to them either. He hadn’t exactly embraced pack life as much as he’d just embraced the idea of being a wolf. Ari had a point that they were social creatures by nature, but the thought of being so tied down in such a specific manner had Kyle feeling uneasy at best. “I guess I could meet your friend I--I don’t know. I don’t want to disappoint, but I don’t think I’m any help, you know? You’re kind of the only wolf I’ve really met. I don’t have experience on that front. I don’t know that I could be relatable in the way he needs, I guess.”

There was no hiding the wide eyed look that crossed her face when Kyle said he didn’t think he ate things. Ariana knew that couldn’t be true, not when the full moon had such a hold over them that made them basically insatiable. Even with her memory of her full moons crystal clear, there was no denying the hold it had on her. How the hunt was the only thing that drove her during those midnight hours until she reached contentment and fell asleep cozily on the forest floor. “Right,” she said slowly, “You probably do eat things… it’s like-- the full moon makes us pretty much bloodthirsty and hungry, but not like, to each other. Pack instinct kind of kicks in there.” Her voice was low but her hushed tone was serious. The yogurt cup was long since forgotten on the table and she watched him carefully with concern in her eyes. “I think you two would get along. It’s not necessarily about tips, but it’s a pretty big life change to go through. Everyone could use someone who knows what they’re going through.” Really, Luis could use all the support he could get though now she found herself worried for Kyle, too. She noticed the sun was getting lower in the sky and glanced down at her watch before she fumbled in her bag to grab a pen and paper. She quickly scrawled down her number and told him, “This isn’t the best place to talk, but text me soon, okay? We can go for a hike if nothing else.” She only half meant that. She had every intention of working on wolf things with him, but she didn’t want to scare him off just yet. “I’m supposed to meet my girlfriend soon, but take care, okay? This town can be dangerous for people like us.”

#wickedswriting #kyle #froYO wtf is up kyle #parental death tw #sibling death tw #both tws are mentions

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havethetimeofyourstyles · 4 years

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Chapter Three. Mind Your Business

the scene is set in 1956, a young man moved to Hollywood to follow his dreams of becoming an actor. But with little money and a struggle to keep his apartment, he is approached by a man who offers him a job at Sweetland

a/n: decided to title this chapter ‘mind your business’ because no ones sexuality is anyone’s business! dont assume, make fun of, invalidate anyone’s sexuality because it’s not funny nor is it cute. YOUR SEXUALITY MATTERS AND ITS BEAUTIFUL

SERIES MASTERLIST | JOIN THE TAGLIST | chapter word count: 8.9k

warnings: biphobia (it’s the 1950s)

TALK TO ME ABOUT CN! let me know your thoughts!

pls rb to share! <3

It was Friday, two weeks later as you were sitting with your girls at Mel’s Drive in as you three talked and ate.

Frances was talking about her date that she went on last weekend with the guy that worked with them; as she did assume he was going to ask her out, which he did. She was practically gushing over him as you and Alice listened as you ate, both being happy for her.

“He was the sweetest guy! Took me to a drive in and after we walked on the beach! It was so fun, and after he kissed me-” You and Alice gasped, interrupting her story. “On my cheek! Jeez, you two are something. But it was the sweetest kiss, and ugh! I just want him to ask me out again.”

“The next time you see him, maybe mention that you’d like to go out again, or invite him for a bite to eat,” you told her, and she nodded. “So, Alice, what about you and that guy you were seeing?” She changed the subject.

Alice scoffed and rolled her eyes, “Ugh, I’m not seeing him anymore. He can never make up his mind if he wants to take me out on a date or just wants to continue fucking me, so I dropped him,”

“Good for you,” you say, taking a bite of your toast. Alice was always one for being decisive and assertive. Just like you, she doesn’t take shit from anyone, but she’s ten times more intense than you. But overall, you love her for it.

“Yeah, although, I’m having eyes for someone right now. Behind you,” she only told you, since you were sitting across from the two.

You slowly turned around, trying not to make it obvious that you’re turning around. And what you saw was something shocking, and it made you have a cough attack as you choked on your toast.

“Oh my god, doll, are you okay?” Frances asked. You grabbed your napkin, hysterically coughing into it, and Alice handed you your cup of water.

Practically everyone around your booth was staring at you oddly, wondering if you were okay or not, and once you finally calmed down and the piece of bread washed down your throat, you took a deep breath.

“You sure you’re okay?” Alice asked.

“Yeah, uh, that guy your ogling…”

“What about him?”

“That’s Harry.” Alice and Frances’ eyes widened, immediately moving their heads to take another look at him as their jaws dropped.

“That’s Harry?!” Alice asked in shock.

“Like, as in the Harry?!” Frances added.

“Yup. The one and only.” You watched your friends practically stare at the guy you’ve been thinking about for the past two weeks.

“Oh my god, he’s hotter in person than you described,” Alice swooned. “Sorry, for hitting on your man, doll.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it. If he hit on you dolls, I wouldn’t even be mad because I’d hit on you both too,” you teasingly winked at them, and they both raised their eyebrows in a flirty way

Another thing you loved about your trio was that you were able to make those kinds of remarks without them thinking it was weird. You were truly grateful for friends that accepted your bisexuality, or else you would’ve been in shambles. And besides, who doesn’t hit and flirt with their best friends?

“I can’t believe that’s him!” Frances exclaimed.

“Yeah, he’s handsome, isn’t he?” They both nodded, excitedly.

“Well, are you gonna go up to him?” Alice wondered. You turned around again to really get a look at him. He was facing you, sitting across a lady as they both chatted. He hadn’t seen you, and you were thankful for it because you didn’t want him to see the hint of sadness in your eyes because of the hint of jealousy you had in your body.

You shook your head, “Hell no. He’s obviously on a date.”

“You don’t know that!” Frances said optimistically. You really didn’t know. It was a bit after four p.m, so you didn’t know if it was for work or if he was actually on a date. Either option, you couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy. Of course, you couldn’t stop him from working, but if it was anything outside of work, the thought made your heart sink.

“Well you’re gonna have to suck it up because I just paid and he’s sitting right by the door,” Alice said, gathering her purse. You closed your eyes for a moment, preparing yourself to simply just walk by him, and you hoped he wouldn’t see you as you were doing so.

You walked behind the two, following them to the exit of the diner as you looked at Harry the whole time. He hadn’t noticed you at first, but until you walked past by his table, he definitely saw you.

As you two made eye contact, it was like you were sucked in; never for a second breaking contact with him as his green eyes captured yours. You noticed his face perk up, smiling widely.

“Hey,” he greeted.

“Hi,” you said with a smile as you stopped walking. Alice and Frances heard you causing them to stop walking as well.

“How are you? Haven’t seen you in a while,” he said; the person sitting across from him was completely forgotten as the woman watched the interaction between you two as she stirred her coffee.

“Yeah. Uh, two weeks,” you nodded, silently cursing yourself as you seemed like a complete idiot for keeping track.

You took the time to subtly look over to the person on the other side of the booth, and saw a very gorgeous looking woman who was probably in her late twenties. She was tan and had long locks of red hair, and her outfit was quite cute as well. And if you weren’t swooning over Harry, you would definitely be swooning over the lady in front of you.

“Yup, two weeks,” he confirmed.

In all honesty, he’s missed you. You two had only met once, but he’s missed being around you—your presence comforted him.

“I should get going. Have a lovely rest of your day, you two,” you told Harry and his date before walking out with Alice and Frances.

Your face remained neutral as you walked out as the girls followed. Once you were outside, they both put an arm around you, comforting you.

“I’m sorry, doll,” Frances said sadly.

“I mean, at least you weren’t too attached, right?” Alice said, somehow convincing you.

“Yeah…” you agreed, but in all honesty, you were already attached. You’ve known him for tops, two hours, and in those two hours, you came to the conclusion that you really like him. That may make you a bit crazy, but you couldn’t help how you feel. Harry’s charming and sweet and humble. How could you not fall for him?

“It’s okay! Let’s have a dolls night? We can watch a movie at my house and maybe a sleepover?” Frances suggested, and Alice nodded her head eagerly.

“I’m up for both, what do you say doll?” They both looked at you with pleading eyes, wanting you to agree to have a night with them to simply take your mind off Harry. And you wanted that too; to just be with your girls and out of your parent’s home.

“Both sounds lovely,” you agreed, and they squealed in excitement as you three walked to your car, hoping your mind gets a break from thinking about the man inside of the diner.

Harry was sitting in front of a woman that didn’t really spark his interest. Don’t get him wrong, she was very stunning in every way, but he’d noticed that you really set the bar for him.

After your little cloud nine adventure together two weeks ago, Harry had three customers within those weeks. One of them was married, so they only stuck to oral as she claimed that “it’s not fully cheating if I don’t go all the way,” to which Harry was baffled by her explanation. The next one was a young man, probably the same age as Harry or a little younger, and he told him that he was curious what it was like to have sex with another man. So, Harry fucked him and met all his expectations, to which he got a very decent tip from him. The next one was a woman his age that works at a fancy restaurant, and told him that it was her only day off and decided that she needed to get laid, and of course, Harry helped her.

But those three encounters did not compare to you. He mentally slapped himself thinking he was crazy that he was even comparing others to each other, but he couldn’t help it. Since the very first time he saw you, he thought you were the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. And it wasn’t just the way you felt around his raging hard on, but it was the way you talked to him and the way you listened to what he had to say. He felt important and valid when he was around you because that’s how you treated him.

And Daren can throw so many women and men his way, but Harry’s come to the conclusion that you’re always going to be on his mind, despite only knowing each other for less than a day, he was completely whipped.

“Harry?” Jeannette, the woman from across from he said. He broke out of trance and softly smiled at her. “Are you okay? You kind of blanked out.”

“Oh, yeah. I am. Did you want to get going?” He suggested, and she perked up at that, nodding her head excitedly.

Harry and Jeannette headed over to her apartment where they talked for about a minute or two before she inched closer to him, giving him a kiss to his cheek. Harry turned his head slightly, and she captured his lips against hers.

As they kissed, her hand traveled to his crotch and he was taken by surprise as he slightly jumped as she rubbed the front of his pants. Usually, he would be turned on, but there was a sort of rushness he felt through her actions that he wasn’t into, and he was sure she felt it in the kiss he gave her. And he wasn’t even hard.

The kiss he gave her was one that had no effort, but kissing just to kiss and going with the flow as she was the one in control of it.

“I-I’m sorry,” he said as he pulled back. Jeannette’s lipstick was all over the place and he’s sure that there’s some on his lips as well.

“Is something wrong?” She asked concerningly.

“Uh, I…yeah. Can we just take it slow?” He asked hesitantly, and she nodded her head slowly.

“Sure,” she said as she waited for him to make a move or say something.

But Harry was lost in his mind as he thought about you. And he knows he shouldn’t when there’s a gorgeous girl right in front of him, but the occurring thought of you washed throughout his mind and there was no effort in stopping it.

He thought back to the day when he met you up to when you two had sex. He loved the way you built up the sexual tension and the way you teased him into sexual agony. The way you would smirk at him when he would do something sexy or when you would participate in his playful banter. And he couldn’t forget about the slight dirty talk that came out of your mouth, to which he knew there’s more from where the words came from, but since it was your first time together, there were only a few words. But those words were enough to cum twice.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Jeannette suddenly said, and Harry’s brows raised in confusion.

“I’m sorry?”

“The girl from the diner. There’s something between you two, I can tell,” she explained.

Harry chuckled, scratching his head as she read him very well. “I-I mean there’s nothing going on, but she was a customer and-”

“And you like her,” she finished for him. Harry slowly nodded, feeling guilty that someone else had to tell him.

“Yeah—I’m sorry. I know you came to the shop for a good time, and I’m sorry I couldn’t deliver,” he apologizes with a small frown on his face, and she waved it off.

“It’s alright. I could tell she’s into you also, but I don’t know, by her wandering eyes, I may be wrong.”

Harry looked at her confused, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, she was checking me out. She had her eyes on me when she was talking to you, and I looked at her as well—saw her eyes go up and down on me. Think she might be into girls too?” She said casually as she got up and walked over to her bar cart, grabbing herself a drink.

“Oh, uh, did you have a problem with that? Her checking you out?” Harry wondered, and if her answer wasn’t the one he was looking for, then the conversation would end badly.

“Well, yeah!” And Harry got his answer. “She was checking me out, Harry. Had some flirty eyes when she looked at me, and it made me uncomfortable.”

Harry controlled his temper, answering her with a cooled tone. “I’m sure she didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. She was probably just wondering who I was with.”

“Still. I know when someone’s gay, and she definitely is. Do you really want to be with someone like that? One who can’t fully give themselves to you? It’s not a real thing,” she rolled her eyes, and Harry was infuriated.

“Not a real thing? Don’t speak about her like that! So what if she likes men and women? Her sexuality has nothing to do with you nor is it your business,” he snapped at her, fully angry and annoyed.

“Woah, why are you getting so mad? I’m just saying-”

“No, what you’re saying is that you’re assuming her sexuality, and also invalidating it. That’s so low, very low,” Harry got up, heading for the door.

“Well, don’t cry when she doesn’t want you and has eyes on another woman!”

“You’re saying a lot of bullshit that doesn’t make sense, but gladly, fuck off!” With his last words, he slams the front door, huffing all the way out of the apartment complex.

He’s never felt so angry with anyone nor had he snapped like that at anyone, especially women. His mother has always taught him to be kind and respectful to everyone. “But if there’s something that they said was wrong, I expect you to stand up for those who aren’t there to stand up for themselves and people who don’t deserve hatred whatsoever,” his mother would say. And that’s exactly what he did. He stood up for you, even if you weren’t, for the Eric and Mack who is gay and bisexual, and for everyone else whose sexualities are being hated on because ‘it’s not the right way.’

When he was walking towards Hollywood, he realized he was in Downtown; way too far for his liking to walk back. But luckily, he had some spare change for the railway.

He arrived at Sweetland a little past five, and Daren smiled, but also wondered why he was back earlier than usual.

“Sorry, Daren. The customer I had today was just…” he trailed off, not knowing how to put what had happened into words.

“What happened, kid?”

“Well, it was going well—kinda. We were at a diner, and went back to her place, kissed a little, but I wasn’t really into it, to be honest,” Harry said, and Daren chuckled. “She started saying things about gay people and how bisexuality isn’t real, and I just snapped.”

Daren hadn’t said anything, and Harry was starting to feel anxious. He didn’t know if his boss was going to be mad because he didn’t get any tip, plus he made a customer angry. But Daren reacted the opposite and smiled.

“I’m proud of you, boy,” he said, patting his shoulder.

“Really? I’m sorry I didn’t get any money and didn’t do my job, but she was insulting people!”

“Hey, I don’t care. What you did was right, and I’m glad you did it. Would’ve done the same thing, and leave them horny and to dry,” Daren laughed, and Harry joined.

“Did it for Eric and Mack too,” Harry included.

“They would be so grateful you stood up for them. Tough world out there, and it hurts that people can’t live freely,” Daren shook his head, feeling ashamed of how society is developing with discrimination and hatred.

“I’ll clean up here,” Harry said, grabbing a broom from behind the storage door. He started to sweep up the dust and candy that’s fallen out of their jars. It was a long day for Harry, and it’s going to be even a longer one tomorrow. He’s got a day off from Sweetland for a couple of days, so that means he has to run down to the studio to try and be picked to be an extra or get a screen test. He sighed deeply, thinking about how chaotic it’s going to be tomorrow, and hopefully not be let down once again.

“Hey, kid?” Harry perked up. “You said you weren’t into when you were smacking lips with that customer…why’s that?”

Harry smirked, holding the broom in his arms as he spoke. “Well, there’s this girl…”

It was the usual ten a.m morning rush when folks would gather around in front of the gates of the studio, patiently waiting for two casting directors to come out and make their picks.

He put on his best clothes; wearing a tan gridded trousers, a cream button down shirt with bottles printed on it, and on top of it, a red and yellow sweater vest. He was always a sucker for a stylish and comfy sweater vest; made him feel very professional along with fashionable.

As he made his way through the crowd, trying to find Mikey, he found that many people were incredibly rude. They pushed and shoved him as he tried to squeeze in between him, and said some really harsh words. He knew he was ‘cutting’ them, but his friend was waiting for him up at the gates.

“Hey, Mikey,” Harry greeted, and Mikey turned around, beaming his camera smile.

“Harry! I’m so glad you’re here. They’re about to come out any second,” Mikey nudged him.

“Do you think today’s the day?” Harry asked his friend hopefully. Mikey always had this sixth sense that he was able to feel the difference between the good and bad vibes from what they both manifested. And most of the time, It was either a blessing or curse to know.

“Honestly…” he said suspensefully as Harry waited for, hopefully some good news. “I have a good feeling about this,” Mikey smiled, and Harry clapped his hands once, loudly.

“That is the shit I like to hear,” Harry said excitedly, putting an arm around Mikey as the boys both smiled in anticipation.

After a few minutes, the crowd spotted two people walking towards the gate as the guards opened them. The crowd of locals went wild, throwing their hands up as they screamed “pick me!”

Again, Harry used his trick of smiling not too big and not too small to make him seem like he was trying too hard. The woman scanned through the crowd, glancing at the eager people. She pointed at the ones she wanted, usually picking about five or six people to bring with her on set; already picking five people.

Once she glanced over to the area Harry was standing, looking over if she wanted to pick another one, but stuck with five. Everyone’s eagerness altered, frustrated that they weren’t picked. Harry’s expression turned into a sad one, wishing he wasn’t too hopeful when Mikey said his senses were telling him they were good. And just as he was about to leave, something struck the lady causing her to turn back around.

Everyone in the front rows saw it, making them smile quickly at her. But Harry panicked because he thinks he’s looking right at him, despite the sunglasses. Harry softly smiled, in case she really was. And his day, possibly his life, changed when she lifted her hand and pointed right at him, gesturing to him to follow her.

Harry was in complete shock, practically not even believing he was picked until Mikey physically pushed him towards the gate because the ladies and the rest were waiting.

“Go on man! You got picked!” Mikey said excitedly, and Harry snapped out of his disbelief, beaming at his friend and kissing him on the forehead before walking inside the gates of Paramount Studios.

He was so in awe of the whole atmosphere; the crew working on building sets, making props, wardrobe, the cameras—everything. He’s never seen the real thing up until now. But when he was picked to be an extra with Mikey when they had first met, they weren’t in front of cameras or a big set; they were part of the rehearsal act that included them being in a room with all the other actors, so this was a huge deal for Harry.

When the ladies led the ‘picked ones’ to a room where the screenwriter, director, and producers sat, Harry felt his anxiety rise up again. He had no idea what was about to happen, but he made sure to do it with feeling and to give his best performance.

“Alright, everyone. In my hand, I have the script of the upcoming movie we finally got approved of. I picked six of you by random to act out specific parts that I think will fit you,” the lady explained. Harry noticed that everyone in this industry was very fierce and strong willed. But he figured, they probably have to because this is a very serious job that has to do with entertaining the entire country. “Think of this as an audition to a movie—because it is. This is the real deal, kids. We’ve never done this before, only picking you all up to be extras, but since we have some small roles that need to be filled, this is your time to shine.”

She grabbed a stack of scripts and handed it to the group. And when Harry felt the stack of papers that could possibly include one of his lines in a big movie, he felt like he was dreaming. He’s never held an entire script in his hands before, and god, he wished he would hold scripts for the rest of his life.

“Each of your scripts has a sticky note on it that says the name of the character that I think suits you all, again, based on first glance. You will go to the lounge area, study your character and the general plot of the movie, and you will come back to audition for us. You don’t have to memorize it, but it is suggested. We just want you to get a feel of the character. You have an hour to do so,” she dismissed everyone as they walked out the door and to the lounge room.

The room was like a movie theatre in some sorts; sofas lined up as people sat and talked about everything and anything. Harry picked a spot in the back, so no one would disturb him as he was buried in the script, studying the character he’s auditioning for.

After thirty minutes of studying the plot and his character, he came to realize that the movie was a romance film. The classic story of a man falling for a woman, but the woman is hesitant. The casting director had assigned Harry to audition for the main character’s best friend. And when Harry found that out, he was ecstatic. The role obviously wasn’t the lead character, but it was pretty close.

Harry took the rest of his time to memorize the highlighted lines. He knew he didn’t have to, but like the casting director said, it’s better to. And he’s very grateful for his memorization game that he’s had ever since he was younger; always memorizing lyrics to songs when only hearing it twice.

With hushed mumbles of his lines, repeated saying it over and over again, he felt confident and he was ready. He had about ten minutes to go before it was time to go back to the room, but he decided to head over there already because he learned that you should always show them that you’re ready; it builds confidence in yourself and it’s always good to be early better than late.

Harry waited outside of the room when an older lady approached him.

“Harry, right?” The woman asked, and his head perked up, surprised one person even knew his name in this place.

“Yeah, that’s me. And you are?” He asked politely, flashing her his million dollar smile.

Always be nice to others; no matter how good you think you are, you never know where kindness will take you in life.

“I’m Shareen. I’m not sure if you remember me, but I was at one of your auditions a few weeks ago,” she told him, handing him her hand to shake. Harry took it as his eyes widened, remembering the woman in front of him. She was an older woman--somewhere in her 60s. Harry noticed that she was wearing a barrette on her head, just like the last time he saw her; probably one of her staple pieces, which he thinks is lovely. Shareen had a friendly face as well; Harry not being intimidated by her like he is with the rest of them as she kindly smiled at him with bright eyes.

“Ah, yes! I remember you. It’s lovely to meet you, officially. Also, love the barette you’re wearing,” he compliments honestly.

“Oh, thank you, dear. Quite a favorite of mine.” Shareen felt nothing but giddiness when someone noticed her barrette. None of her coworkers rarely noticed it, so it made her happy when someone complimented her on it.

“It looks wonderful on you,” he smiled, and she placed her hand on his arm.

“You’re sweet. But I wanted to come by and introduce myself, and tell you that I think you did really well. It’s too bad one of the producers cut it way too short--I was eager to see what you could offer,” Shareen smiled softly, feeling bad for the young man in front of her.

“Oh, thank you. That means a lot to me,” Harry smiled widely, feeling immensely grateful for someone from the industry to say something like that to him. He rarely gets told that he’s good at what he does, and for someone to say that to him means a ton. “But I’m happy to be getting another shot.”

“Me too, dear. I just know you’ll do just great,” she patted his shoulders before walking into the room, leaving him to wait alone again. What she had told Harry had given him a boost in motivation; it encouraged him to keep going and to keep trying. And sometimes that’s all he needs--a boost of encouragement to tell him that he’s doing things right. That’s all what everyone needs.

The other five people had gathered around next to Harry as they waited for another three minutes before they were called in. He took in everyone’s moods as he does, and controlled his breathing and nerves. Everyone was obviously very nervous--Harry was as well, considering this could possibly be a huge step in their careers.

“Harry and Sky, please come in,” a man called out from the door. Sky was another actress that he assumed he would be auditioning with. She smiled softly at him before walking towards the room, Harry following.

The room was even more intimidating than the first time. Five pairs of eyes stared at the two as they walked in and stood on the mark that was taped to the floor.

“Alright, you two. You’ve studied your roles, and now it’s time to perform them. You will be auditioning for page 50.” Harry and Sky flipped to that page as they both studied it for a second. Feel free to use your scripts. But give us your best performance, okay?” One of the ladies said, and Harry and Sky nodded eagerly, nerves creeping up both of their skins.

Harry glanced at Shareen, and found her smiling at him. The friendly face and smile had calmed him down a bit, remembering her words. After a minute of gathering their notepads, she spoke again. “And action!”

Harry and Sky turned towards each other with scripts in their hands; Harry walking passed her, arms crossed so he wasn’t tempted to look down at his lines. “I just…they’re not right for each other!” He said.

“They’re getting married--what can you do?” Sky acted out, a frustrated look on her face.

“Stop it.”

“What?” Sky scoffed.

Harry grabbed her shoulders, according to the script, shaking her lightly and said, “Don’t you get it? We have to stop the wedding!”

“You’re his best friend! How could you do that-”

“Because I’m in love with her!” Harry exclaimed

“No…”

“Yes! I’m in love with her. We have to stop the wedding,” his eyes pleaded.

“You’re insane, Nate.” Sky removed herself from his hold, walking away before Harry ran in front of her to stop her, grabbing her shoulders again.

“Insane? Don’t tell me that you haven’t been thinking about it too. I know you’re in love with Matt,” Harry raised his brows.

“That doesn’t mean we stop their wedding,” Sky scolded.

“But that means we’ll be happy. Can’t you see that?”

“And cut!”

Harry and Sky broke out of character. Their faces returned back to normal as they weren’t two stressed out adults who were planning to ruin their best friend’s wedding. Half of the table clapped for them, Shareen, of course, being one of them.

“Wonderful job, you two,” Shareen said with a delighted smile. “We just need your contact information just in case, and you’re free to go.”

Once Harry gave them his contact information, which was simply his home phone, he walked out of the studio with a big smile on his face. He had no idea what the outcome would be with all of this, but he was proud of himself for getting through it, and he thought he did a wonderful job this time.

“Catherine, I know you can lift your leg up higher than that!” You teased one of your students, giving them an encouraging smile. Catherine lifted her leg up all the way to her head, and you clapped for her. “There you go!”

It was your Monday ballet basics class as little five to seven year olds were spread out, and working on the little number you made up for them. You were exhausted from the long hours of class and plus, it was eleven in the morning, seeing as you were up since seven. But you had an hour left to go before you get to go home, and have a nice bath and a house all to yourself.

Your father was at work, thankfully not going to be home until later in the night, and your mother was helping her friend with a charity foundation. And an empty house and a relaxing bath that will probably end up with you touching yourself, was calling your name.

You haven’t been laid since the night you and Harry had sex, and the most you’ve been doing since then was pleasuring yourself. There was just simply no sexual interest when you looked at others, and you may have to just curse Harry out for ruining your sexual life for you, but you were fine getting yourself off.

As you watched your class run through the routine, you felt a presence behind you, causing you to turn around and see Tyler smiling at you. Tyler was one of the few guys who taught ballet, and on Mondays, he taught the ages of eight to twelve in the morning; the same time as you.

“Hi, Tyler.”

“Hey. Are you almost done with the class?” He asked.

“Yeah. About 40 minutes left--why aren’t you in class?” You asked, figuring he had about the same time left as you, and wondered why he wasn’t with his students.

“I dismissed them early. It’s Monday, the hardest day of the week. But I was wondering if you’d like to get some lunch after your class ends? I’m free for the rest of the day,” he asked you hopefully.

It wasn’t like you didn’t like Tyler because you thought he was really nice and friendly. When you two had met, he asked you out for dinner, but you were with Chris at the time, so being a loyal girlfriend that you were, you said no, to which he understood. When he somehow found out that you and Chris broke up, he asked again, and you told him honestly that you didn’t want to date nor did you want to go out, and he understood again. But up until now, it was constant questions of asking you on a date and the constant rejection of you saying no. It was clear he couldn’t take a hint.

“Oh, uhm, I was hoping to be alone today…” you scratched your neck awkwardly.

“Gotcha,” he nodded his head. “But another question, why do you never want to go out with me?”

“Tyler, I think you’re a really nice guy and I’ve noticed you have some certain eyes for me ever since we met, but I’m just not interested in you. And I hope you understand that,” you told him honestly, but ultimately feeling bad that you even had to tell him that.

You heard him scoff and saw him roll his eyes, “Unbelievable.” You saw him start to pace, and you were afraid that he would snap in front of your students, so you stopped the music, telling them to take 5, and brought him out to the hall.

“What is your problem?” You asked confusingly.

“You think you’re the shit, don’t you?” His voice started to raise.

“No, I don’t actually.”

“You do though! Think you’re all high and mighty just because you’re a rich bitch, but guess what? You’re not!”

“I never thought I was, but okay,” you said sarcastically, completely annoyed that you have to put up with this dumb arguement.

“No, you do. Just because you like men and women, you think you can just get anyone?” You looked at him amusingly; you think it’s funny he says that because he’s been begging you to go out on a date with him. “What? You’re secret’s out.”

“Never really kept it a secret, and I’m happy about that,” you entertained him as he began to grow more frustrated, but you were completely over this conversation as you were never going to give him the satisfaction of snapping at him, so he could possibly tell people that you weren’t all what you seemed.

Before you reached for the door to your classroom, you turned around one last time. “Hey.” Tyler turned around like a kid who just got scolded, which only added to your amusement. “Feel free to spread that secret of mine, yeah? Makes me proud to be who I am.”

Your original plan was to go home after class and have a nice day to yourself, but you found yourself parked in front of Sweetland, debating with yourself whether you should go in or not.

You’ve been sitting in your car for a good 10 minutes under the sun, and your debate meter is pointing to yes because it’s scorching hot in July in California. But not only your body melting from the heat that your debate meter is green on yes, but also wanting to see Harry.

It’s been a few days since you last saw him at the diner, and it was no secret that you missed him, but seeing his face after two weeks made you realize that you truly missed him. So you made the conscious decision to get out of your car and enter Sweetland.

When you opened the door, you stumbled into someone who was pushing the door out, but you beat him to it, causing him to fall forward slightly.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Once the man regained his balance, his eyes met yours, and he smiled. “Oh, Harry.” It was the same man that you were at the shop for, and you couldn’t be more happy to see him.

“H-Hi,” he said nervously, running his ringed clad hand through his disheveled curls.

“Are you off of work right now?”

“No, I didn’t work today actually. But we’re still open, so you could go inside.” A hint of pain was felt in his chest when he said those words; wanting to be the one to help you and not one of his coworkers.

“Oh…I was actually looking for you,” you smiled, and Harry’s eyes widened.

“R-Really?” He asked surprisingly, and you nodded. “I’m not working though, I just came by to get my paycheck.”

“Yeah, but I was wondering if we could maybe go out for lunch? That’s if you’re free though.” A hopeful smile was brought onto your face and your innocent eyes looked at him, making it unbelievably hard for Harry to say no, not like he wanted to.

“I’d love to!” He said a little too excitedly, so he toned it down a bit. You chuckled at his lifted mood. “Where would you like to go?”

“Swinger’s isn’t too far from here, if you’d like to check that place out? Heard their waffles and milkshakes are to die for,” you mentioned, trying to convince him at the thought of food.

“Didn’t have to mention waffles—already wanted to go with ya,” he smirked, teasing you as he read your mind while you were trying to convince him. He earned a giggle from you as you walked to the driver side of your car as he walked up to the passenger side. “Ah, missed Rosie,” he said as he got in.

“Rosie or me?” You bantered, starting your car up.

“It’s a close tie between you two, to be honest. Although, Rosie might be winning,” he played back. Your jaw dropped dramatically, slapping his chest playfully.

“Well, what if I say we could share a milkshake? Would I earn points then?” You leaned in a tad bit, asking something so innocent but your time was saying the opposite.

“Do I get to choose the flavor?”

“The choice is all yours, honey.”

“Let’s get there in one piece and maybe I’ll decide then, yeah?” He said, ending the bacon and forth teasing. You giggled as you put your car in drive, and drove off to Swinger’s.

The booth was a cushioned, checkered print seat, but it wasn’t as comfortable as Mel’s, albeit, you’re a bit biased because you’ve been going to Mel’s ever since you were younger, so you couldn’t compare the two. But it was a lovely diner either way.

Sitting in front of Harry was a bit of a dream. You’d imagined meeting him again over and over without it leading to sex, and the simplicity of how the reality of it turned out to be made you happy.

You and Harry talked about simple likes and dislikes as a way to ease into getting to know each other. You found out that he prefered mint chip over cookies n’ cream, and to say you were disappointed was an understatement when he ordered you both a mint chip milkshake to share.

“What? It’s flavorful! Not your usual,” he argued playfully.

“But cookies n’ cream is just a staple. You can’t go wrong with that,” you raised your brows, knowing you were right and he knew it too.

“I mean you’re right, but mint chip is good! We’ll get cookies n’ cream the next time,” he told you, putting a truce on the debate, but you ignored the truce as your heart fluttered multiple times at the words ‘next time’ and you wanted to do pirouettes from excitement. “Okay, okay. Pancakes or waffles?”

“You can’t pick between the two,” you simply put it.

“That’s a very easy answer though. It’s waffles,” he said.

Just as you two discussed how you couldn’t choose between the two because you had to be in a certain mood for both, your food had arrived; the aroma of freshly made waffles hit your senses, making your mouth water.

“So…” you started, sipping the milkshake with your straw. Harry’s head lifted, giving you a smile, encouraging you to continue. “How was your date on Friday?” You asked hesitantly, not really wanting to know if it went well.

“Uh, not so good…”

“Oh?” Now you were intrigued. You tried to contain a smile from beaming out by pulling in your lips together, but your eyes said it all. And Harry read your expression, knowing you were happy with what he said. “What happened? If you don’t mind me asking?”

“Oh, uhm-”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you said, noticing his hesitation.

“I do. I just don’t know how to put it,” Harry nervously scratched his head as you told him to take his time. “So she was actually a customer from the shop,” he mentioned, and you gulped, waiting for him to continue. “She wanted to grab a bite to eat before we go back to hers, then we saw you, and I was just so lost in thought of you that I wasn’t paying attention to her that she noticed, so I suggested we just go back to hers. We got there and she immediately started making out with me and placing her hand on my dick, which kind of startled me because I wasn’t really hard or turned on nor was I into it,” Harry explained.

“Can I ask why you weren’t into it?” You asked, somewhat knowing the reason, but wanting to hear it from him.

“You. I was thinking of you the whole time, and she also sensed that. And then…” he stopped talking, like he didn’t want to tell you anything.

“Take your time, or you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you said calmly, having no idea if something bad had happened during their time together, and you were a bit pissed but you didn’t want to force him into telling you.

He took a deep breath, controlling his breathing. “We stopped, and she assumed that you were the reason why I wasn’t into it, and she was correct, but then she started to say things how you were into both men and women, saying how weird that was because you wouldn’t give yourself to one person or some shit like that, and by then I was completely off the rails--pissed.”

“She said that?” You asked with no emotion behind your words, and he nodded.

“Said it was because you were checking her out at the diner and it wasn't a real thing to like two genders or some shit. I was proper livid,” he shook his head, still in disbelief that he came across a person like that. You only nodded your head slowly, trying to take everything in. Plus, this was not how you imagined coming out to Harry. “But told her to fuck off, and how rude it was to one, assume someone’s sexuality. And two, say that it’s not a real thing. Then I left.”

Your eyes softened as you looked at him; a crease in his forehead made you reach across the table and smooth it out with your thumb. His features softened, and he looked at you, seeing your glossy eyes look right back at him.

“Thank you for saying that. No one’s ever defended me like that besides my friends, and that means a lot to me,” you gave him a small smile to which you earned one back. It felt some sort of shock knowing that people live in fear and can’t be who they want to be because society doesn’t accept it, and he felt some sort of sadness when you thanked him and said that no one else ever defended you.

“Of course,” he said, reaching across the table to hold onto your hand, which you gladly took. His thumb caressed your soft skin, making no effort to let go; not like you wanted him to.

“I was supposed to have a relaxing night to myself, but I’m glad I went to the shop.”

“Me too. What made you change your mind?” He asked, and you rolled your eyes, remembering the events that happened before you left the studio.

You told Harry about Tyler, not leaving out a single detail of what he said to you as it was still fresh and ingrained into your mind. The entire time you told the story, Harry also rolled his eyes and scoffed at some people’s immaturity. But you just shrugged your shoulders, telling him that you were going to live your bisexual life freely.

“What’d you do this weekend?” You asked, putting an end to your story as you felt like you were talking about yourself too much.

“Oh, I, uh…had a couple of days off from the shop and I had an audition,” he said with a humble smile. Your eyes widened, jaw dropping.

“Harry!”

“What?” He asked obliviously.

“Oh, I don’t know--you just casually mention that you had an audition,” you said sarcastically; a chuckle from Harry was heard. “That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you,” you beamed at him, feeling so happy for him as he maintained his composure and tried not to get too excited.

“Thank you. I’m trying not to get my hopes up, but it was such a thrill being in front of the producers,” he said, proceeding to tell you the entire story. He felt giddy telling someone other than Mikey or Daren, and he definitely felt your energy, telling him that you were just as excited for him as well.

“Harry, that’s truly so great. They would be missing out if they don’t pick you.”

“Thanks, sweet girl.” The name had slipped out. It came out naturally, but he closed his mouth immediately, not knowing if that crossed the line since he used that pet name in bed.

“I’ve missed hearing that name,” you told him honestly, and he calmed down a bit, smirking at you.

The night was going by quicker than you intended as you hung out with Harry starting around 1 p.m, and now it was nearing 4.

As much as you wanted to continue hanging out with him, you still wanted to have some alone time with yourself since it was rare that you would have the house to yourself. Besides, like he said, it wasn’t the last time you would be seeing each other.

“I should probably get going,” you say, a sad tone behind your words.

“Yeah, okay, sure. Let me just grab the check,” he turned around to find the waitress that served you both.

“Oh, I can pay for half,” you said, beginning to reach into your purse for your wallet.

“It’s okay. Let me; I just got paid. And besides, I was the one who picked the milkshake flavor, so let me pay for it,” he smiled at you, making you blush. “Next time, you’ll pick the flavor, and maybe you can pay if you want to next time.” You only nodded, smiling as you watched him just walk up to your waitress and pay for your meals.

Once he paid, you two walked out the diner; the summer sun was still bright outside, making it seem like it was still early in the day. You walked over to the driver side as Harry stayed still in front of the restaurant.

“I’ll see you soon, maybe? Drive safe,” he said, waving at you.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, I was gonna catch the railway.” he said shyly, and you chuckled, thinking you were probably crazy if you were going to leave him out here.

“You know you’re too kind for the world, and don’t need to get all shy on me. It’s just me—you’re comfortable with me?” You asked, wanting to make sure he felt comfortable with you no matter what.

“Yeah, of course-”

“Then hop in. I don’t bite, that is, only if you want me to,” you smirked, starting your car and putting on your sunglasses. He absolutely loved when you wore your sunnies; you had a different pair on than when he first met you. Today’s sunnies were pink circular glasses; the lens was see through as he saw your eyes, thinking you look absolutely stylish and all kinds of adorable.

“I live in West Hollywood,” he said suddenly, feeling a bit anxious for you to see the neighborhood he lives in because he knows that it’s nothing compared to where you probably live.

“Okay, that’s on the way to where I live anyways. Just lead the way,” you quickly glanced at him, giving him a smile before turning your head back to the road. You sensed his anxiousness as you did when you first met him; and you thought that it was simply his personality—he was a shy guy in general. That’s why you wanted to make sure he was comfortable around you, and not push his limits.

After a few directions from Harry, making a left here and making a right there, you made it in front of his apartment building. It obviously wasn’t a neighborhood you were used to, but you didn’t mind it nor were you going to judge it. It was Harry’s home, and as long as it makes him safe, then everything was fine.

Harry waited a few seconds, not immediately getting out of the car, before turning towards you as you turned your car off. “I had a really nice time tonight,”

“Me too. I’m glad we were able to go out. Until the next one?” You subtly slipped in, in case he had forgotten, or to see if he wasn’t joking when he said ‘next time’ at the diner.

“Of course. I’ll see you then,” he gave you one last smile before getting out of your car.

“Harry…” you called out just like the last time you had dropped him off. He once again turned around, leaning his forearms on the top of the door and bent down.

“Yes?”

You unclicked your seatbelt, making your way towards the passenger side as you kneel on the seat. You reached your hand to place your palm against his right cheek, feeling his stubbled skin.

“Thank you for today, and for lunch. I mean it when I said I had a really great time.” Your face was inches away from him, and Harry was starting to get very antsy; wanting to kiss you so bad as your lips were so close but so far from his.

“The pleasure is all mine. I’ll see you next time, sweet girl,” he said. He noticed how much you really like being called that because every time he does, a blushy smile appears on your face, and he would make sure to always call you ‘sweet girl’ to see that kind of smile from you all the time.

His eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips as it was painted in a bit of lip gloss. He also noticed how your attention was on his lips as well. And before he could ask you if he could kiss you, you had leaned your head into his left cheek, planting a kiss to his skin.

It wasn’t anywhere on his lips, but it was sweet and soft; a sweet innocent kiss that he would always remember and and he was sure he would giddily scream once he got back to his apartment.

“Have a good night, honey,” you said as you pulled away. Harry’s heart immediately swooned at the second time you called him honey.

“Honey?” He said as it came out as a pleasant surprise. You say back down in your seat, blushing.

“Yeah, is it too cheesy?”

“No, no! I really like it,” he smiled, dimples showing off.

“Good.”

“Great.”

You two stared at each other, smiling like idiots as neither one of you wanted to leave. But you two broke eye contact due to the car alarm that startled you both, but both looking back at each other as you two giggled.

“Bye—for the millionth time,” you said as you started your car, putting the gear into drive.

“See ya, sweet girl,” he bid you goodbye as he gave you one last wave and watched you drive away.

As he walked up the stairs to his front door, he thought of how the day had been really good and how much he had fun; anticipating the next time he gets to see you again.

one of my favorite chapters! BE PROUD OF WHO YOU ARE. YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL AND VALID.

next chapter will be posted on September 4! LETS CHAT IN MY INBOX!

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