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auteurdelabre · 3 months

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Please, Mister Miller Sequel: Part 6 BFD!Joel x f!Reader

words: 18k (yeah. That's right)

summary: It's Graduation Day and your parents are here... so is Joel...so is an unexpected visitor.

tags/warnings: age gap, infidelity mentioned, p in v, unprotected sex, angst, fluff, namecalling (slut, good girl, sweet girl), oral sex (f receiving), Daddy-kink in parts, public-ish sex, voyeurism, mentions of childhood trauma, shitty parents, clothes ripping, lovingmaking, reader has hair Joel can grab.

a/n: over 18,000 words on this fuckin' monster. If I don't get some damn good reviews I'm gonna riot. In other news, FUCK the next chapter is gonna be a goddam monster too... unless I break it into 2. We'll see. What do you wanna see happen?

masterlist here

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You wake on graduation day with a knot in your stomach and you know exactly why. The text you received last night. You pick up your phone, eyes scanning the brief message and sighing deeply.

[MOM]Just got in. See you at the ceremony tomorrow. Be sure to wear the dress.

You look over at that ridiculous dress, a totem of innocence and purity and you want to laugh. Innocent? Pure? What a joke. If only she knew the photos of Joel you have on your phone, or the absolutely depraved things you’ve done with him.

As if you’ve summoned him, a text comes through.

[HIM 💜] Can’t wait to see you, bby.

You smile at your phone. You can almost hear his deep voice, the rasping purr.

Can’t wait to see you! xoxoxoxox

Though after the stress of seeing my parents I’m gonna need a massage.

[HIM 💜] Deep tissue? Swedish? Internal?

Oooh Deep Tissue followed by internal please. Lol.

Sarah wakes soon after positively vibrating with excitement.

"I can't wait to see Charlie!" She shouts, jumping up out of bed. "And I can't wait to travel this summer!"

You force a smile but you can't deny you're envious about Sarah's summer. Yours is bound to be a solitary one living back with your parents. You need to get a job back home to help pay for school in the fall.

Perhaps Joel will come and visit you back home once in a while? Or perhaps tonight will be your last rendezvous? It's hard to think of how it can continue, despite what Joel says. He can't exactly come over and meet the parents can he? And your parents will likely have a very close hold on you, wanting to introduce you to the right people, trying to convince you to switch your Masters degree for something more profitable.

Despite how well off your parents are they have made it clear from the start that you'll make your own way in the world. But that’s fine by you because you have scholarships and you’re a hard worker. Living at home means saving up money. Saving up money means moving out away from them.

But until then, it’s long, solitary days back in Chicago with your family.

Sarah gives a stretch before falling onto your bed with an oof. She sits, knees touching yours and smiling broadly.

“We’re almost graduates!”

“I know!”

And funnily enough out of everything with your parents, it’s not that which upsets you the most. It’s the fact that will be no Sarah to look forward to in the fall. No more giggled nights over cheap beer or joined study sessions helping the other make flash cards.

She’s become a touchstone to you. A person whose Snapchat's and text messages through the summers made life bearable when your parents were too much for you. Whose soup delivered to your beside during sick days at school made you feel taken care of. The roommate who dragged you to parties to make you socialize and subsequently introduced you to Conrad, who for a short while made you very happy.

Without Sarah you don’t know who you would be today.

"I'm going to miss you so much," Sarah says gently, her large eyes teary.

"Same here," you say, trying to swallow the tremor in your voice.

"I can't believe we're just gonna suddenly not live together," she says, chin wobbling and the sight of it makes it impossible to stop the tears that slip down your cheeks.

“I know,” you say and now the tears are free flowing and the words you’ve never voiced come out wobbly. “I’ve never had a friend like you. A best friend.”

Sarah lets out a choked sob and the two of you collapse into a sniffling hug that makes your heart swell. You finally pull back long enough to brush the tears from your eyes, the two of you laughing at how emotional you both are.

"You're gonna be traveling all over South America all summer," you remind her with a watery smile. "You won't have time to miss me."

"I will so!" Sarah insists with a friendly push to your shoulder. “I’m gonna get you something really nice too!”

When you put on the white dress later that morning you're struck that you're the vision of chaste. The lace sleeves, the ruffles, the high neckline. It gratifies you greatly when you pull on the most scandalous panties you own, red completely see through. They tie at the hips and they barely cover anything.

You pull them up over your hips and lower the dress over them. The fabric is so thick they can't be seen, but you will.

And soon Joel will too.

///

By the time the ceremony starts hours later you're almost shaking with nerves under your robe and mortarboard. The rasp of the dresses ruffles at the shoulder make you twitch.

Sarah is seated next to you, her eyes scanning behind you. You know she's looking for Joel and Charlie. You already spotted your parents near the back of the large auditorium looking as dour and bored as they always have.

"Oop there he is!" Sarah murmurs as the Provost drones on at the podium. You glance at her before you allow your eyes to drift in the direction she's looking. And there he is, seated beside a beaming Charlie, is Joel.

Your Joel.

He's so handsome you could cry. His hair is longer and curled, looking so soft you want to leap out of your seat to run your fingers through it. He's wearing a button down and he's grinning at both you and Sarah. When she turns around to face the speaker Joel casts you a sly wink that has you flushing.

You feel his eyes on you through most of the ceremony, and when you go up after to collect your diploma you hear his clapping and shouting of your name over the crowd. To anyone else he looks like the supportive parent of his daughter’s friend. But when you cast your eyes into the crowd and see his beaming smile, you feel the pride from where you stand on the stage.

Soon enough the ceremony is over and you and Sarah are official graduates. You give her a tight hug after you toss your caps into the air. You both give yelps as the caps fly around you, laughing as you find yours before handing her the one next to it on the ground.

"Gonna go find my dad," she tells you as you give her one final squeeze. You nod watching her rush through the bustling array of people in search of the man you cannot wait to hold and kiss.You slip through the crowd until you find your parents still seated and looking at the passing crowds with distaste.

You take a deep breath, swallowing before you approach them with a tentative smile.

"Hello Mom, Dad."

The two of them stand simultaneously, giving you a once over before your mother gives you a detached embrace. She’s likely trying to see if you’re wearing the dress she insisted upon. Your father pats your shoulder companionably.

"Congratulations," he tells you with a thin smile. "Graduation with honors."

"Thank you," you say, surprised with the compliment.

"Not valedictorian," he reminds you quickly. "But I suppose there was lots of competition."

Your mother says nothing and you just nod, wanting this interaction to be over as quickly as possible. You notice now that your father is holding a small wooden box with a bow on it. He thrusts it at you.

"Take this and be sure to take care of it."

"Yes sir," you nod, taking the small box from him. You open it up to see an ornate fountain pen sitting on the velvet. "It's beautiful. Thank you."

It’s hideous and nothing like your style. You don’t even write by hand anymore unless it’s for the word jumble. Just another example of how little your parents know about you.

"We'll go to dinner," your mother tells you. "Afterwards we'll collect your things and you can come to the hotel with us. Our flight is first thing in the morning."

“Oh, I thought I was going to spend one more night here at the dorms,” you say, a bit of panic coursing through you. “To finish up packing and everything.”

That had been the plan. You and Joel would have dinner with your families and then meet up at the hotel he sent you. You can’t do that if you’re with your fucking parents at some fancy hotel near the airport.

“That’s a waste of time and I don’t want to be late for the airport,” your mother says with a frown. “You were to have finished packing last night.”

“I underestimated how much I had to pack,” you defer, trying not to sound as concerned as you feel. “I’ll take a taxi to the airport early tomorrow, I promise. I won’t hold you up.”

Your mother goes to deny this request but your father holds up a hand, making her flinch.

“If she’s paying for her taxi who are we to tell her no?” your father says with a shrug. “Let her.”

Your mother silently stews, shaking her head in a short nod. This entire scene is simply a precursor to what awaits you this summer. Their strained marriage, your strained relationship with them. It’s a nightmare.

Moving back home feels both terrifying and humiliating all in one. You hated being under their thumb, but you can't afford rent and school. And despite what they say, you want to pursue your schooling. It makes you happy. It's a small sacrifice to secure your future.

You nod, head held low. It jerks up when you hear your name being called. You glance over your shoulder.

Fuck.

You feel your anxiety grow when Sarah, Charlie and Joel approach.

'I'm so glad that's over!" Sarah says with a laugh. "I don't want to think about how many people wore this gown before me."

You smirk at this before turning to your grim -faced parents.

"You know Sarah," you say to your them, noting that Joel hangs back a moment, watching the scene.

"Of course, hello Sarah," your mom says as your dad gives a tight smile to your roommate. They've seen Sarah plenty of times in the background of your sporadic video calls home.

"This is her boyfriend, Charlie," you say and the shy Charlie offers a timid wave in reply. Your father is looking over Charlie, noting the slump of his shoulders, the shy way he doesn’t make eye contact. You’re positive they’ll have something scathing to say about him during dinner.

You notice Joel staring at you and then your parents. You try to hold back the flush starting at your cheekbones. His hands are at his side and he finally approaches the group, his eyes on your parents.

"Uh, and this is her dad, Mister Miller," you say softly, unable to make eye contact with him. For some pathetic reason you want this to go well. You want them to love Joel as much as you do.

"It's Joel, sir, ma'am," Joel says, all southern manners as he shakes each of their hands. He brushes by you to do so and you can't help but inhale his cologne, dark and spicy.

"Pleasure to meet you," your mother says with a quick once over of what Joel's wearing. When she sees no obvious designer labels you can tell she's already written him off.

Your dad however is intrigued by Joel's appearance, being the only other man in a group of women. He gravitates towards Joel with a little smile on his face.

"So what do you do, Joel?"

"I run a renovation business with my brother," Joel answers with an easy smile that shows his dimple. You melt. He’s so fucking gorgeous. Your father gives a look of clear disapproval at his answer.

"Just the two of you?"

"Ten years ago it was just the two of us and now we oversee a staff of twenty," Joel answers breezily able to overlook your father's open judgment. He’s a humble man, not one prone to bragging. But you know what he’s trying to do, to disarm your parents, to make them like him. And the thought of why he’s doing that has your stomach spinning delightedly.

"Self made man, I respect that," your dad says nodding and you have to stop yourself so you don't beam with pride over at Joel.

"S'how I was raised," Joel shrugs with humility.

"Same here," your dad says with an approving nod. "Built up my law firm from nothing. Now we're one of the biggest in Chicago."

"Impressive," Joel says even though you know he couldn't care less.

His eyes dart to you briefly before landing back on your father. He’s likely noticing how different you are from your parents. They’re all cold, serious calculation while you are smiles and blushes and easy affection.

"Wish you boyfriend took a page for Joel's book here," your dad says with a look in your direction. "That Conrad was raised with a silver spoon firmly lodged in his mouth."

The smile you had on your face falls immediately. You feel your hackles rise up when it feels like all eyes suddenly drift over to you.

Why are they still bringing up Conrad?

"Conrad and I broke up months ago."

"That's what you said at Christmas too," your mother says with a sniff, digging through her purse for her lipstick. "Then by January it was on again."

Your jaw clenches tightly. This is a classic family maneuver, making you feel insecure in your decisions.

"I'm sure you two will find yourselves back in each other's arms soon enough," your father says not bothering to hide his displeasure at the thought. He covers it with a false laugh that your mother smiles politely at.

"I can promise you I won't," you say with a tone bordering on a growl. You're just thankful you haven't seen Conrad at graduation all day.

"I sure hope not," Joel murmurs surprising you all. Even Sarah glances over at this in surprise and you feel Joel's panic. His eyes widen a fraction before his mouth curls into a displeased line and he shrugs.

"Just from what I heard from Sarah I think you deserve much better."

Sarah shoots you an apologetic expression to which you reply with an an embarrassed half shrug. You’re not upset that she talks about you with him. If anything it’s sort of sweet.

"Anyway I better be gettin,' Sarah and Charlie here out to dinner," Joel says taking your hand in his a moment. "Happy graduation to you."

You feel your heart flutter, willing the blush in your cheeks to die down.

"Thanks, Mister Miller."

He gives you a subtle wink before bidding farewell to your parents. Sarah pulls you in for another tight hug.

"Promise me you'll come out and visit me when I get back."

Your eyes fly to Joel behind her shoulder for only a moment before you're nodding and smiling back at her.

"Definitely."

“If she’s not busy playing around in school that is,” your father laughs from behind you before turning his attention on your roommate. “Sarah, you were studying… what again?”

“Computer Sciences,” Sarah answers hesitantly.

“A good career path,” your dad continues, despite everyone in the vicinity being uncomfortable. “Much better than Anthropology. Might as well be Philosophy for all the decent paying jobs it’ll get you.”

Your eyes are wet before you can stop them. You cringe visibly, gaze on the ground as they always are when your parents are around. They have the uncanny ability to make you feel so impossibly worthless, so misunderstood, so unseen for who you truly are.

You can’t even look at Joel you’re so ashamed. You must look so pathetic to everyone.

"Sarah why don't you and Charlie go get the car," Joel murmurs to her with a gentle smile as he hands her the keys to his rental car. "I'll be there in a sec."

Sarah shoots her dad an inscrutable look before shrugging and taking Charlie's hand and Joel's keys. She casts a worried look at your face before she breaks from your group. You watch them disappear into the crowd before your eyes draw back to Joel and suddenly the levity from his face is gone.

He steps towards your parents, dropping his voice. This is a Joel you rarely run into. An angry Joel that’s quiet voice is more terrifying than a shout or scream. The quieter he gets the more nervous you become and right now his voice is a soft purr.

"Now I'm normally not one to tell a man how to speak to his kid, but you're being downright shameful to yours."

Your stomach swoops in both elation and terror. You want to kiss Joel senseless for sticking up for you, but seeing your dad's brows rise has you staring between both of them in shock.

“What did you just say?” your father asks, convinced he’s heard incorrectly.

“I said you're talkin’ to your daughter shamefully,” Joel says speaking slowly and enunciating as if your father is slow. Your mother gives a small gasp at this, her hand going to your father’s shoulder. He shakes it off, his face pinking all over as he glares at Joel.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Your dad seethes.

Your dad takes a step towards Joel, used to people backing down from him at work. But this isn't his law office and Joel has a good three inches on him, not to mention biceps and broad shoulders that would easily pummel your father to dust.

He pauses when Joel steps forward as well, your boyfriend not backing down a fraction.

"Sarah's known your girl for years and we had the pleasure of having her to ours this Christmas," Joel tells your father, looking thunderous. "She's a delight."

"Not so delightful for her parents," your mother chimes in. "You wouldn't understand Mister Miller. Your daughter clearly has ambitions and-"

"And yours doesn't?" Joel bites back. "Sarah told me she wants to be a professor."

Sarah told him no such thing. It was you who told him during your time together. He looks over at you, concerned that he got that incorrect.

"That right?"

"Yeah," you nod, trying not to smile. Joel looks back at your parents and his gaze turns cold again.

"'Side from that, your daughter is smart and talented and funny as hell," Joel sneers at your parents. "And that's nothing compared to her warmth and her heart. And now that I've met you both I don't know where the fuck she got that from."

You are officially fucking Joel Miller's brains out later. Right after you stop the tears pricking the back of your eyes.

"She doesn't need people like you in her life," Joel continues and you know he's saying this part for your benefit despite glaring at your parents. "She's a strong, independent woman that doesn't need anythin' other than herself. And if you both don't get your heads straight, she's gonna walk right outta your life and never look back and it’ll be your loss."

Your parents can only stare at him and your father, always so quick with a harsh comment or jab is silent. His face is so red it's almost mauve. His hands are at fists at his side. Your mother looks like she's about to faint.

You however feel as if your heart is overflowing with your love for Joel in this moment.

Joel turns his eyes on you and you pray no one can see the burning passion he holds for you in that gaze because it seems so obvious to you.

"You wanna grab dinner with us?" Joel asks you, jaw clenched. You know he desperately wants to hold you, to bring you into his arms.

"No it's okay," you tell him with a gentle smile. "You have fun with Sarah and Charlie."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

You see the concern in his dark eyes, the searing depths of his affection. But he's aware that you know your own mind and so he just nods, giving you a small smirk before he's heading away from you.

"Take care."

The second he's out of earshot your parents are tripping over themselves to talk.

"That rude man!"

"Uneducated idiot."

"Did you see what he was wearing? And the way he spoke? Positively barbaric," your mother spits, readjusting the purse on her shoulder and shooting you a levelling look.

Joel’s broad shoulders are disappearing into the crowd, but as if he can feel your gaze he turns. He sees your eyes searching for him and he darts his gaze to your parents, seeing they’re both facing you. He gives you a gentle smile and wink and then he’s gone, leaving you warm and strangely emboldened.

"I don't want you anywhere near that family."

You turn to face your parents who are still fuming about Joel and for some reason you suddenly see them for what they truly are.

Small.

Joel made them small. So small that it seems foolish you were ever afraid of them at all. So small that is laughable to think that they have any control over your life. You owe them nothing. They give you nothing but pain and a love that is built on toxicity.

And suddenly it's so easy to sever that tie between you and them.

"Enough about that horrible man," your father grumbles. "Dinner reservations are-"

"I'm going back to my dorm," you inject with a smile, feeling strangely light. "You two enjoy dinner."

"Excuse me?" Your father is exasperated with everything that has gone on. You see it in the tired look he’s giving you. “Since when?”

"I don't want to have dinner with you," you tell them, unable to stop your smiling from growing. "Either of you. So you two go on. Enjoy."

You've never spoken back to them like this. Never with this serene calm, this positively cheerful countenance. You feel your phone vibrate in your purse and you just know it’s a message from Joel. The thought makes it even easier to stand there staring them down.

Your parents gape at you as the crowd of students mills past, looking at your beaming face. It's your father that speaks first.

"This disrespect you're showing your mother and I is disgusting," he spits. "Your sister-"

"Heather isn't here," you tell them so sharply they wince. "And I'm sick of being compared to her."

You've never mentioned Heather’s name to them. Not in all the years since your sisters death. You've felt too guilty, too scared.

But no more.

"Hey now," your dad begins, his face falling. "We never-"

"I'll never be Heather and that's fine because I'm me," you say over him. "And I don't need the two of you trying to tell me that's a bad thing."

They both stare at you, your mother's jaw is actually dropped, almost cartoonishly so. You realize that this is it between you and them. They brought you into the world and they've made you regret it ever since. They’ve punished you for surviving that car crash instead of Heather. You're done with them.

You thrust the pen and the wooden box it came in back at your father. He takes it in slow shock, as if what's happening is a dream.

"So go enjoy your dinner," you tell them. "And have a safe trip back."

You take the phone from your purse as you stride from them. They call your name but you ignore them, your eyes are already on the text from Joel.

[HIM 💜]: Same hotel as last time. Room #461. Give your name at the front desk. Come when you can. Can’t wait to hold you, beautiful girl.

///

You sit at the bar of the hotel a short while later. Your overnight bag is at your feet and you're still wearing that stupid dress front your parents because you wanted to rush over here. You'd been so desperate to see Joel, to feel his arms around you, his mouth on your flesh.

But then as you strode into the hotel and saw the trendy looking bar you decided that a drink was necessary. A celebration for how you stood up to your parents. And then something Joel said months ago tickled the back of your brain. A comment that has stayed with you.

“Do you think we could pretend for this week? That I'm not married, that you're not my daughter's friend? That we met in a bar one night and found each other attractive and just wanted to spend time together gettin' to know one another?”

You smile as you sit at the bar; legs crossing before you order a gin martini from the bored looking bartender. You pull out your phone, typing hurriedly amongst the chatting patrons and jazzy music over the speakers.

I’m at the bar downstairs.

[HIM 💜] ??

Come down. Dress nice. Xx

Joel walks into the dimly lit bar minutes later, his eyes traveling the length of the space until they get to your face. The smile that breaks out nearly makes you faint at the sight. But you maintain your composure, pretending you don’t notice him until he’s right beside you.

He’s so close you can smell his freshly applied aftershave and the soap he used to wash this morning

“Hey bab-“

"That seat is free for now,” you say coolly pointing to the leather stool next to you. Joel gives you a confused smile, crooked and endearing.

“Huh?”

“Look like my date is running late," you tell him in a flat voice, taking a sip of your drink.

Joel looks a bit offended at your cool tone and lack of smile.

"But perhaps you could keep me company until he arrives."

Joel's mouth curves into a smirk as he catches onto the little game. His eyes dip down the length of your body before he backs up a few paces. He adopts a more seductive look, his eyelids lowering a fraction.

"Hello there, my name's Joel Miller," he replies in a husky purr as he takes the seat next to you at the bar. "And you are quite possibly the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen."

"I accept the compliment Mister Miller," you say with a calm nod, trying not to giggle at the characters you're both playing. You want to play this out as long as possible. There’s something hot about the people around you not knowing you two are together.

"Call me Joel," he replies gently. He holds his hand to you and you take it, noting how warm his tender grip is, how sweetly he rubs your knuckles with his thumb before gently dropping your hand when you pull back.

"Alright Joel," you reply breathlessly. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Joel assures you, eyes raking up and down your form before settling on your eyes. “Pardon me for sayin’, but your date is a fool to let a woman as gorgeous as you sit here alone for more than a second."

“Quite forward of you,” you say with a cool raise of your brow, trying to suppress your smirk. The bartender comes over and takes Joel’s order, quickly sliding him a whisky before going to attend to the other patrons.

“So what’s a beautiful woman like you do for fun?” Joel inquires, taking a sip of his drink.

"Oh I haven’t had much time for fun. My day today was especially taxing," you tell him, swirling the toothpick and olive in your martini glass in what you hope is a seductive manner.

"Oh yeah?" Joel is practically purring. "Tell me all about it."

"Well, first off, I graduated with honors today."

Joel gives an impressed whistle as if he’s not completely aware. "Sexy and smart? Damn, baby, you're somethin' else."

You grin, feeling your cheeks pink in delight.

"Then my parents started in on me right after the ceremony," you say rolling your eyes. "And just when I was gonna fall apart, my boyfriend just let them have it. He told them off. I've never seen anything like it. My parents just stood there and it was so inspiring that when he left, I told them off too."

"Really?" Joel breathes, his face midway between concern and amusement.

"Mhmm. And it felt amazing. So amazing that I wanted to come to this bar and celebrate." You give Joel a sultry look. "Then you came up to me and well, here we are."

Joel smirks cheekily and you feel his hand come to the back of your bar seat.

"Can I tell you somethin’?" Joel asks, lowering his voice so you have to tilt closer to hear. His full lower lip grazes your earlobe when he speaks. "Every man in this bar is hoping you'll go home with him."

He pulls back, his pupils expanding rapidly. You let your hand fall to his knee, rubbing gently as you give him a grin.

"Oh, I'm very discerning," you say coquettishly. "I won't go home with just any man. He has to be the right type. Older, handsome, smart, sweet... The whole package."

You watch Joel's golden cheeks turn pink at the compliment. He takes a deep pull off his whisky. He leans back in his bar stool, looking at you tenderly.

"So Miss Genius who graduated with honors. What's next for you?"

"I'm starting my Masters in the fall," you say with a proud smile as if Joel wasn't already aware. "Got a really good scholarship too. Just have to work a bit too save up for the rest."

"How're you gonna do that when you're in school?" Joel takes another sip.

"Oh, it's all online," you tell him as you drain your own glass. "A lot of them are now with everyone's schedules and how hard it is to make ends meet."

"It is?" Joel says and you can tell he's dropped a bit of the act. "I didn't know that."

"Yeah I needed it to be online so I can work at the same time," you explain, then your brow furrows as something occurs to you. Joel notices immediately.

"What?"

"Oh it's just... I just realized I also need to find a place to rent," you say more to yourself than anything. The character you've embodied slips away from you and you blink rapidly." My parents sure as fuck won't be welcoming me back with open arms after what I said to them. And even if they did I don't want anything from them."

Joel looks at you a long time, his fingers tracing absently along the bar top. He looks like he wants to say something but he holds back.

"But that's not exactly first meeting in a bar kind of talk," you say, lowering your hand to fall atop his and you let your voice drop to a seductive purr. "Tell me about yourself."

“Whadda ya wanna know, beautiful?”

You cross your legs the other direction, facing him more. You notice his eyes flit to your bared legs and then back to your face.

“Well your accent isn’t from around here so what brings you to our fine city, Joel?”

“Here to watch my daughter graduate,” Joel says with a gentle swirl of his drink. “I’m from Texas.”

“You got anyone special in your life, Texas?”

“I do,” Joel nods, eyes like burning coals. “This girl I’ve been seein’ that I’m just crazy about. Can't get her outta my head."

"The sex must be great," you giggle with cheeks flaming.

"No words," Joel admits with a dimpled grin. "But s'not the sex that does it for me."

"No?"

"Nah," Joel shakes his head. "See, she's real smart. Startin' a Master's degree in the fall."

"Wow."

"She's not just smart," Joel shrugs, taking another pull from the bottle. "She's gorgeous too. Fuckin’ stunning."

He watches your eyes drift to his collar, suddenly shy. This emboldens him, makes him lean closer again until his whisky-soaked breath lands in huffs against your cheek.

"I miss how she smells," Joel continues. "I never told her this but I went to the mall and got a bottle of the perfume she wears. I spray it on my pillow from time to time just to make it feel like she’s there."

"You do not!"

"I do," Joel chuckles. "Never smells the same as when she wears it though."

Shit, you can feel your eyes watering.

"And when I talk to her she's the first person who's really listened. She doesn't just nod and wait for her turn to speak. She's the first partner that's ever really wanted to take care of me."

Partner.

"You're easy to take care of," you murmur. "I assume," you add hastily, not wanting to break character.

"So's she," Joel tells you and his face sobers. "The kinda woman I would die to take care of. But I worry. I'm pretty old-"

"Not old-"

"And she's got a whole future in front of her,” Joel says and the levity is gone from his face. “I worry I’d hold her back from it. Hold her back from a lot.”

It takes all your resolve not to throw yourself into his arms right this second. Instead you give him an impossibly gentle smile, leaning your face closer to his.

“You said this woman is smart,” you reason, feeling your pulse flutter. “I think she knows exactly what she wants. And from what it sounds like, she wants you, Joel.”

Joel gazes at you a few moments, his finger absently tracing the rim of his whisky glass.

"You know you're a beautiful woman," he murmurs in a sultry tone, his eyes lowering seductively. "And this may be forward but I'm staying at this hotel and I'd love to take you to my room."

You smile.

"I'd love that, Joel."

///

You’re in each other’s arms seconds after opening the door to your room. Joel crashes his mouth against your and you leap into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. He licks into your mouth as he stumbles the two of you towards the bed.

He lowers you gently to the floor, giving a lingering kiss to you before the ruffles of your dress rasping against his shirt distract him.

“Such an innocent looking girl in this dress,” Joel muses, his wide hands sliding down the white fabric as he smiles. “Who’re you tryin’ to fool, baby?”

“I didn’t pick it,” you huff a laugh. “They did.”

The amusement is immediately gone from Joel’s face. Without warning Joel’s hands are at the neckline of your dress. You frown up at him before gasping as he rips the fabric brutally. It tears down the middle, exposing your breasts.

“Joel!”

He turns you around, ripping the skirt from it as well. You’re left in tatters of fabric and you watch as ruffles hit the carpet slowly before looking up at him and laughing. He grins at you, throwing some of the remaining lace fabric in his hands onto the floor.

“Joel,” you laugh loudly. “What the fuck?”

“You don’t have to wear what they tell you to ever again,” he promises you. “You don’t have to listen to another goddam thing they say. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. You’re your own woman. And when I take you to bed I’m fucking you, sweet girl. Not some virginal doll version of you that they’ve created in their heads.”

You shiver in anticipation as you feel his warm body behind you, still clothed. You feel Joel’s hands come to your waist, holding you.

“My good girl fucks like a champ,” Joel whispers against your ear. “And she loves my cock doesn’t she?”

“Yes,” you sigh.

“She likes fucking in public,” Joel continues, hands coming to cup your breasts from behind. You feel his hips rubbing against your lower back, cock hard and waiting for you. “She gets wet bein’ a bad girl.”

“Fuck, I do,” you whimper, letting Joel take control of your movements as you go boneless against him. “I really do.”

“That’s who I’m taking to bed,” Joel reminds you, pulling the remaining tatters of your clothing off your body until you’re standing in nothing but the red panties you picked out. His eyes are drawn to them, a smirk bleeding over his face.

“And look at that,” he says as his hands slip down the front. “She’s already wet for me.”

“Always.”

He kneels in front of you and unties your panties at the hip, groaning appreciatively as they flutter to the ground. You’re naked before him, and you feel his eyes take in every square inch of flesh. You hear his clothes fall to the ground in a rustling heap.

His mouth is on your pussy before you even register what he's doing. You feel your body tensing before his large hands come to hold your thighs in place.

"Such a pretty pussy," he groans, delving deeper between your folds. You feel your legs begin to tremble. He begins giving you exquisitely probing kisses between your thighs, chuckling when you begin to tremor.

"Please Joel," you beg quietly. "I need your cock."

He gently ushers you to the bed onto your belly before bracketing your hips with his thighs. Joel's fingers move to the back of your neck, curled into your hair. He moves it up, out of the way so he can press long kisses to the bare flesh of your neck.

"My girl loves gettin’ fucked," Joel grunts out above you. "Ain't nothin' virginal about her."

He groans against your shoulder as he slides into you, hips slowly pressing against the swell of your ass. You sigh, allowing yourself to be pressed into the mattress. You’ve missed this. And judging by his poorly stifled moans, Joel has missed it too.

"Such a good girl," Joel coos, coating himself in your copious arousal. "She missed me."

"Uh huh," you whimper out because all of you has missed Joel. Not just your body but your heart, your mind. You can hear him smile behind you as you thrust yourself back on his length.

"Such a pretty girl," Joel murmurs as he pulls out and then slowly pushes himself in again. He kisses the top of your spine, tongue trailing over your flesh as you moan below him. Your wrists are held by him, resting at your lower back. Your face is tilted, cheek on the sheets as you moan, your vision growing blurry.

You can only writhe under him, body flailing with pleasured arches. Silent screams to keep going to go deeper. Nothing is rushed, everything is tempered and slow and deep. He fills you up so fucking well, so achingly patient.

"She likes having this pretty pussy full 'a me," Joel says as if he has to remind you. "Don't you, baby?"

"Yes yes yes."

"Look at you," he marvels as he stares at you. His free hand slides down your spine, petting you like a cat. You smile drunkenly over your shoulder, watching his hips flexing as he continues to drive himself into you. "You need more, honey?"

You can only give a weak nod, going down on your forearms, presenting yourself to Joel to use.

"Yeah, she needs it harder," Joel murmurs, you feel him flexing, cock sliding through your folds as you whine brokenly. Your head falls forward as your face screws up, brows saddling. Joel’s hot breath is at your ear, his voice a husky purr.

“What do you think your parents would say, knowin’ I’m balls deep in their sweet, innocent girl?” Joel murmurs, tongue coming to trace the shell of your earlobe. “What would they say knowing how you sucked my cock and begged for my come that first time?”

Your body twitches in arousal at that.

“What would they say if they knew their precious little girl was on my camera covered in my come an’ callin’ me Daddy?”

Joel continues to move so slowly within you, extending the pleasure to an almost unbearable level as he glides in and out of your drooling cunt. Joel's fingers begin to circle your clit as his cock thrusts into you.

"Baby," you offer, voice sluggish. "You feel so fucking good."

"Naw sweet girl," Joel says running his nose against your cheek. "That's you. You make me feel so goddam good."

You know what he's not saying and it's not just the sex. That being together feels good. That clinging to one another feels good. That just existing in this moment with each other feels so fucking good.

"Needed this cock didn't you?” Joel asks, hips starting to rock into you with more abandon. "Needed me to take care of you."

His hips are slapping against your ass now, making your eyes cheat to the back of your head. The slapping sound is so visceral, so overtly sexual.

"Yes," you manage to articulate.

"Needed my come?"

You can't even answer that, you just let your eyes shut and feel as the climax courses through your body, making you cry out in broken sounds as Joel fucks into you. You milk his cock as you come down, body boneless. Joel continues, his hips driving forward over and over until-

-a knock at the door sounds.

You hear Joel curse behind you, his body stuttering to a stop. You give a high whine, head twisting to see him over your shoulder. His face is red, his forehead dotted with perspiration. He pulls out of you slowly before reaching for his pants.

"Dinner," Joel says raggedly. He kisses you again before pulling back, going to retrieve the tray whilst trying to hide his erection as you hold back a laugh.

“But you didn’t come,” you remind him, as if it weren’t painfully obvious. Joel gives a breathy chuckle before kissing your sweaty cheek when he returns.

“Plenty a’ time for that, baby.”

Dinner is a steak for each of you with a side of fries, salad a charcuterie tray that Joel thought you’d like. You take a seat on the end of the bed with him and the two of you eat, chatting away about Joel’s flight over here and how he feels about Charlie (bumpy and he’s a good kid).

A short while later when everything is digested he removes the champagne from where it sits over ice and offers to pour you a glass. You’re struck by his thoughtfulness, of all the trouble he went to for you.

“Joel this is so sweet of you.”

“It gets sweeter,” Joel says with a grin. He lifts one of the silver trays and you smile when you see chocolate covered strawberries for dessert. Joel pours you each a flute of the champagne before handing you yours.

"To my genius girlfriend," Joel toasts, clinking his glass to yours. "And her extremely bright future."

"To my impossibly sweet boyfriend," you say smiling dopily. “And his huge heart.”

The two of you sip your champagne, letting the bubbles tickle your tongue. He holds the plate of strawberries out to you but you shake your head.

Joel watches as you place your flute down on the floor before crawling into his lap. He gives a soft chuckle before you're nestled in between his legs. He drains his champagne glass, placing it on the side table.

"I want a different dessert," you breathe, urging his large hand between your legs and gently rocking. "Is that okay?"

His fingers curl into you, finding you wet and waiting. Your thighs spread, giving him better access to penetrate you deeper with his fingers.

"Yeah, that's okay," Joel breathes against your skin. "S'your big day, baby. You tell me what-"

Before he can finish the sentence there's another knock at the door. Joel freezes as if remembering himself. He tugs your robe closed.

"Put on some panties," he urges you. "Your other gift is here."

"Another gift, Joel? And one I need panties for?"

"Trust me," Joel winks at you. "Now put on panties like a good girl even though we know you're anything but."

He swats your ass playfully as you sit on the edge of the bed; watching Joel turn the corner and hearing him open the door. You pull on and re-tie your red panties once more, listening as your boyfriend opens the doors to two strangers you can barely make out in the mirror.

"Oh I thought they were sending two ladies," Joel said, his rumbling voice a twinge irritated.

"So sorry Mister Miller, our usual girl called in sick,” a small redhead says with a concerned look. “Gus is all we had available. But I know you specifically requested deep tissue and he is the best.”

Joel pauses and then nods. “Alright then. Lemme help you with the tables.”

All southern manners Joel brings in the woman’s table despite her protests. You watch as the two masseurs dressed in white pants and white t-shirts set up their tables, bringing out lotion and a portable speaker.

“We’re here for your couples massage,” the woman says grinning from you to Joel. “We hear you’re celebrating your graduation.”

“I am.”

“Congrats,” the man – Gus – says with a patient smile in your direction. “You must be glad it’s over.”

“I guess not glad enough,” you laugh. “I start my Masters in the fall.”

The woman is small with large eyes and a smattering of freckles over her nose. Gus is tall with blonde hair and the straightest teeth you’ve ever seen. He comes over to you with a charismatic nod of his head.

"I take it you’re the one who likes deep tissue?"

“Yes.”

"My name is Gus, I'll be your masseur today. Please let me know if you have any problems with the treatment.”

You see Joel eyeing you from where he stands by his table.

“Greta and I are going to step into the bathroom to give you both some privacy to undress to your comfort and slip under the sheets. Any questions? No? Alright then."

The two of them head into the bathroom, closing the door behind them. You shoot Joel an amused look before the two of you undress to your underwear. You can’t help but let your eyes linger on Joel’s broad naked back as he lays himself on the massage table. He sees your peering as he pulls up the sheet to his waist.

“You gonna stare at me all night?”

You give a sheepish smile before climbing onto the table next to his, raising the blanket up to your shoulders before spinning onto your stomach.

Greta and Gus emerge when Joel calls out that you’re ready. The lights in the hotel room are dimmed and your eyes shut. The scent of lavender washes over you, the oil warmed by Gus’ hands. At the first stroke along your back you give a soft sigh, enjoying the feel of your muscles being taken care of.

You sneak a glance to see Joel laying with his eyes shut tightly, looking more in pain than anything. You hold in a laugh before closing your eyes again and surrendering to the calming sensation of Gus’ large hands on your body.

The massage is divine. So much so that you can't help the little mewls and groans that escape you when Gus hits a particularly good spot. You didn't realize how tense you were.

You hear Joel give a few coughs during the massage, but you barely notice. Greta murmurs something to him and he shakes his head. She nods and you hear Joel give a soft groan when she gets to his lower back.

You’re not the only one feeling good and this pleases you greatly. Joel works so hard, he deserves to be spoiled. With Gus' strong palms pressing into your shoulder blades along with the lavender scented oil you feel transported.

The hour goes by too fast and when the masseurs tell you to relax before getting up you want to cry. You wanted it to keep going on and on.

"Thank you so much," you murmur to Gus, your voice dripping with gratitude.

"We'll just step outside so you can get dressed again," they tell you and Joel in quiet whispers. "Please take your time standing."

You make a soft sighing noise before you feel Joel’s hand skimming along your spine. “That feel good?”

“So good,” you groan, allowing him to help you off the table and into the robe. He sashes it for you before giving you a kiss. He walks over to the door, allowing the masseurs to enter back into the room. They hand you both a glass of water that you drink eagerly.

"We hope you enjoyed your treatment."

“We did,” you enthuse sleepily. You feel so good right now, your limbs heavy in a sleepy way.

"Your boyfriend is so thoughtful," Gus murmurs as he packs up.

"Mhmmm," you say with a wide grin. "I'm very lucky."

You and Joel watch them pack up their things before they’re heading out. When the door is closed you flop down onto the bed, your body so relaxed. It feels heavenly to be touched like that, your muscles soothed.

"You liked that?"Joel says in a deep voice.

"Yeah, felt amazing."

"Yeah?" Joel crawls over to your side of the bed, eyes primal. "I didn't."

Your eyes crack open to see Joel inches from your face. His dark eyes are blown black, his mouth curved into a tight smirk. He throws a leg over your waist, straddling you, his weight heavy and pressing you into the mattress.

"What didn't you like, Mister Miller?"

"Watching that man touchin' you," Joel murmurs, eyes on your waist as he unties your robe.

A fire flames in you at the jealous tinge of his voice. You’ve never really known Joel to be jealous. Even with Conrad he’d been more territorial by the end. But having Joel jealous . . . it’s kind of a turn on.

"He was just doing his job," you say rolling your eyes.

"He was taking his time and starin'," Joel says with a sheepish grin. "I saw him."

"You were watching me the whole time? Weren't you just enjoying your own massage?" You ask with a laugh.

"I did both."

You break into a fit of giggles as Joel's face breaks into a guilty grin

"He was just doing his job," you repeat and almost laugh at the petulant jealousy Joel is displaying.

"I know," Joel says with an embarrassed flush over his cheeks. "I just hated watchin' another man touch you and you makin,' those noises for him."

His hands gently throw open your robe, displaying your breasts to him. He makes a soft noise of appreciation, hand sliding up your ribcage to cup them. You shutter when the thumbs drag along your nipples and they pebble tightly under his touch.

"I wanna be the only one making you feel that good," Joel continues, amusement clear in his face when you begin to start squirming under his touch.

"No one makes me feel as good as you do," you assure him, feeling his cock resting heavily on your belly. "No one."

You groan as he removes the robe from his body before pinning your wrists at either side of your head on the pillow.

"Yeah?" Joel cocks his head to the side, smirking. "I think you need to remind me."

"I'll show you every fucking day if you let me," you groan, hips rolling under him.

"Gonna need you to show me now," he says against your mouth.

"Joel you know I don't want anyone else," you tell him breathlessly. "I just want you."

"Yeah?" Joel's smile is genuine.

"Yeah," you nod, "No one fucks me like you do," you tell him. "No one takes care of me like you do."

"I love takin' care of you," Joel admits, palms cupping your breasts again. He dips his head and rolls his tongue over a stiffened peak and groans when you shiver.

You smile gently as he pulls you to a stand beside the bed. He removes the robe from your shoulders, leaving you beautiful and naked for him. He kisses your shoulder blade reverently, his hands slipping down to cup your ass.

He takes a moment to appraise your exposed flesh before he turns the lights off in the room. You wonder what he's doing when he's taking your hand and guiding you to the large window overlooking the darkened city.

"I'm the only one who takes care of you," Joel murmurs as he twists your body around, facing you to the window. "And I want everyone to know it."

The night is dark; the world dotted with streetlights, restaurant bistro lights, the warm little squares of nearby hotel rooms.

"See them down there?" Joel asks, pointing to the people milling down on the ground below you.

Its groups of patrons down several floors smoking and chatting near the entrance to the hotel bar. Several of them are smoking cigarettes or inhaling vapes. One girl shrieks and stumbles on her heels.

"Yeah."

The people below talk loudly, some tossing their heads back when they laugh.

"You think any of 'em has seen a better pair of tits than these?"

His hands cup your breasts, thumbs grazing your nipples. You shiver, knowing that when Joel's voice drops to that dark baritone something is coming. He kneads your breasts, his mouth coming to kiss your neck, beard tickling the sensitive flesh there as you sigh. The sound of muted laughter breaks you from your reverie.

"Joel someone could see-"

"Maybe," he teases before nibbling gently on your earlobe. "Maybe not."

His fingers are teasing your nipples into hard points, twisting gently until you whimper. Your cunt throbs, anticipation and fear coursing through you.

"Bet if they can see they're thinking how they'd love the chance to fuck this sweet pussy," Joel continues, hand sliding to slip between your legs, fingers curling into your dripping cunt.

"But they don't get to, do they sweet girl?"

You rock against his touch, desperate for the friction. Your hand reaches behind you and goes to his neck as you lean against him, face tilting to his.

"No," you promise him, head falling against his shoulder. "Only you."

"That's right," Joel rasps against your cheek. "Only me."

Your eyes dart down to the group below and you pray that the darkness of the room shields you. You feel Joel hard and twitching at your lower back. He's getting off on this in a major way.

"Let 'em see what they can't have," Joel whispers against your ear. "Let's show 'em what's mine."

Joel's robe which had been shielding you slightly is pulled back from your body. You stand naked, framed by the large window. Your reflection is there, gazing at you like a sultry twin. You twist away from the cool glass, your cheeks flaming.

"Joel-"

"Shhhh," Joel soothes, kissing the top of your head. "S'okay baby. I got you."

His hand comes to your jaw, forcing you to keep your face pointed to the window. Your cheeks burn but you're so wet. You feel his body pressing into yours, herding you closer to the window.

"That's my girl."

He continues like this, pressing you further against the window until your breasts are flattened against the glass. It's cool, and if your nipples weren't already pebbled they would be now.

You allow yourself to be tilted, shifted, your stance widened and your pelvis pressed against the window. Your eyes remain on the figures below, terrified that they'll look up and see you naked and arched.

You hear Joel's robe fall to the ground and know that he too is naked behind you. His wide hand comes to cup your pussy and you whimper, eyes falling shut. You feel him notch himself at the entrance to your cunt.

"Be good for me, now."

Joel slides up into you, the two of you groaning in unison. He makes you feel so full, so deliciously stretched. His fingers begin to worry your clit, tapping and rubbing as he thrusts into you against the window before withdrawing.

"Joel one of them is looking up," you say, even though the people are far away and they could be very well looking at any of the number of hotel rooms.

"What do they see, baby?" Joel groans, shoulders rolling as he slides his fingers along the slick of your clit.

"They see us," you groan, cheeks flaming.

"Uh huh," Joel coos, cock teasing your entrance. "They see you takin' my cock like a good little slut."

This sentence causes your knees to almost buckle and if not for Joel's body pressing you against the window you would have collapsed.

"I want them to see how good my girl looks when I'm fucking her," Joel grunts out, pressing your body against the glass. Your pebbled nipples smoothed against the chilled surface.

"They can't fuck you. Only me."

You whimper before Joel is sliding all the way once more, making your breath come out in little shudders. He picks up the pace, watching as you crest, and your orgasm washing over you. A small one, an appetizer.

You wonder what the people below will see if they look up. A bit of movement in the darkness? Or a young woman pressed luridly against the glass while a broad shouldered older man pounds into her relentlessly?

"They're watchin' me fuck what's mine."

The possessiveness in his statement hits you directly in your cunt, causing you to moan lowly. Joel pins your hands to the window under his, both of your palms flat as he drives into you to the hilt.

"You're all mine," Joel groans. His chin is on your shoulder, digging there. "Say it."

He thrusts brutally into you, his hips unrelenting. You're momentarily distracted before his voice is in your ear, hot and urgent.

"Say it, baby."

"Say what?"

"Say you're mine. I wanna hear it."

His hips are starting to thrust so hard it leaves you breathless, body jolting against the cool glass. It feels so good, so grounding. He presses all of him against you, your body flat against the window and he fucks up into you. His breath is hot at your temple, stirring the hair there.

"I'm yours," you cry out.

"Again."

"I'm yours, baby," you keen, hands slipping down the window, your body going boneless. Your cheek is shifting against the window, your now damp body squeaking against the glass.

"Louder."

"Yours," you punch out as Joel's mouth sucks at your jaw. Every word is now punctuated by Joel's snapping hips you pelvis smacking into the window. "Yours! Yours! Yours!"

He smells so good. Like sweat and the spicy cologne he wore at graduation and the lingering scent of the lavender massage oil. You want to wear that smell on you every day for the rest of your life.

His breath is hot and damp on your neck, teeth scraping against your jaw. Your breasts are pressed tightly against the glass, showing your naked body off to anyone who can see this high up. His fingers rub your clit in gentle circles, palm pressing into your abdomen.

"Again," Joel groans, his hips slamming into you, arousal soaking his length. You're pinned between his gyrating hips and the window. "Say it again."

"Joel I'm yours!" Your voice is cracking as your orgasm starts to creep up on you. "I'm fucking yours! I have been since Christmas!"

You're getting so close to another climax, you're almost there.

"You only want me and my cock" Joel groans, his hands on your hips now as he fucks you brutally, so much that you jump a bit with each thrust, your breasts rasping against the glass. "I'm the only one who fucks you properly."

"You know I only want you," you tell him. "I only want you, Joel. I lo-"

You hold your tongue despite everything. Joel knows how you feel, he must. But the first time you told him he convinced you it was just a connection, not love. You don't want to be the one to say it again.

He grips the back of your neck, forcing your head back and your mouth to graze his. He looks completely fucked out, shiny with sweat, pupils blown, mouth parted.

"Mine," Joel rasps once before his mouth overwhelms you. His lips slot between yours as you let the pleasure overwhelm your core and tightened limbs. Your cries are weak and converging into whines as he continues fucking you.

“Mine, mine, mine,” he growls against your open mouth. “Fucking mine.”

You come down moments later, body boneless and quivering against him. You feel like you're consumed by Joel, his arms around you, his body against yours.

"I ain't done with you yet," he says breathlessly. Before you can say anything he has you in a bridal carry and he's taking you back to the bed. You gaze up at him with adoration, convinced your pupils must be heart shaped at this point.

I love him. I love him.

He sits at the end of the bed, holding you tenderly in his lap, body pliant and ready for whatever he'll offer you. You just want to be with him, near him, always.

His eyes are roving your naked body, the sight of his turgid cock between your legs. He shifts, watching it slip between your lips, grazing the clit.

"Joel," you sigh if only to hear the sound of it.

He seems to remember himself at the sound, his eyes on yours. They go to your mouth, fingers gripping your chin.

"You ready for more, baby?" He asks you, nose rubbing along your own. "Can I give you more?"

His palm trails over your breasts, down your stomach and grazing your inner thigh.

"Yes," you breathe, eyes heavily lidded. "I want more.”

There is a curl at the corner of his full mouth.

"Be polite," Joel murmurs with a smirk. His mouth trails behind your ear, voice a soft huff. "Ask Daddy nicely, baby."

Your eyes don't leave his face, even as your ass begins to roll over his hard and weeping cock. His mouth is at your neck, kissing and sucking.

"Please."

"Please what?" He mutters against your throat.

"P-please," you whimper shakily. "Please fuck me, Daddy."

Joel groans low in his chest at the sound. He takes your hands in his; drawing them up, up until they're laced behind his neck. He leaves them there, his broad hands making their way down your arms, your breasts as you arch, your soft stomach and then between your legs. He holds your soft inner thighs and parts them widely.

Your head tilts back, leaning against his shoulder so you can gaze up at him. He watches you for a moment, eyes tracing your face before he kisses you gently, tongue dabbing against yours as you settle there on his lap, hands on his at your waist.

And now he hooks your thighs over his own, parting both sets of legs widely until you're luridly exposed. Joel's fingertips make a slow trail along the crease of your thigh until they land at your clit. You make a small whimpering noise before settling back against him, eyes shutting in languid pleasure as your head sags forward.

Joel gently pulls your hair, tugging your face up from where it rests against your sternum. The pull is delicious, your heavy eyes staring up into the mirror above the dresser on the opposite wall of the hotel room.

“You're gonna take it like this," he tells your reflection in the mirror. "So we can both see how good you look when you're getting fucked by Daddy."

You whimper and nod, hand splayed over his. Joel is panting heavily behind you, large, dark eyes on yours in the mirror. Your eyes remain on his in the reflection, watching as he helps to lower you onto his cock. From this angle he feels even bigger. You're so slick that when he thrusts inside you think you’ll take him easily, but his size and the angle makes it a strain to take all of him at once.

"You can do it, baby,” Joel soothes as the stretch makes you wince. You can see the flush over your cheeks, the red in Joel's face and chest. His muscles ripple under his beautifully tanned skin.

"Be a good girl for me," Joel whispers against your temple. "Make Daddy feel good."

///

Tess sees rather than hears the two of you first in the reflection of the mirror atop the hotel vanity. At first she's confused when she sees Joel on the edge of the bed facing the mirror. But then she sees the woman in his lap facing away from him, her knees slung over Joel's as he keeps her glistening sex spread wide.

"That's right," Joel rasps against her temple. "I'm gonna take care of you, baby."

His cock is pressing between the woman's thighs, both coated in arousal as he thrusts. Tess can see his middle and ring finger on either side of the woman’s clit, rubbing gentle circles there.

"You always take care of me," the woman on Joel's lap groans, her thighs flexing as Joel drives himself up between her thighs. "Feels so good."

When the woman lets out a husky moan Joel's eyes shutter but they never break from the woman. The woman's face tilts and Joel's eyes are so full of adoration that Tess feels physically sick. She watches as Joel's hands move to cup the woman's face.

"Never felt this good with anyone," Joel tells her softly. "Never."

"Me neither," the woman whimpers before pressing her mouth to his. They kiss slowly, reverently, lovingly even as he fucks up into her. The woman makes a soft whimpering sound, her body quaking as Joel’s cock slides in and out of her. Joel's face breaks. His brows saddle and his thrusting reaches a fever pitch.

"Keep goin'," Joel is slurring. "Uh huh, you take it baby. This is all for you. S'always gonna be for you."

///

You sigh, feeling him bottom out inside you. He lets out a sharp hiss, his hands moving up your body to cup your breasts, pinching the nipples as you moan. He begins to thrust his cock into you, slowly at first, wanting you to acclimatize.

You watch yourselves in the mirror, hypnotized by the way Joel looks as he’s entering you over and over. The way he has your legs spread so wide, so obscene. The sight of Joel’s cock disappearing into your sopping cunt as he kneads your breasts. His eyes are heavy-lidded, but stuck on your face.

“You’re mine,” you tell his reflection, your damp temple pressed against his cheek. “Only mine.”

You don’t feel territorial like Joel, but you want to hear the words from him. There’s something like satisfaction in having Joel say it.

“Yes,” Joel pants, sawing his cock between your thighs. “Only yours.”

Your hands continue to lace around his neck, holding there as he continues to thrust. Your breasts bounce at every jolt, his large hands coming to hold your hips stationary.

"This is your cock baby," he tells you as he pumps into you. "Only you fuck it. Only you."

Your eyes are on his as he thrusts deep and fast, watching your body bounce on his lap, his broad forearms and shoulders caging you against him.

"Joel you feel so fucking good," you moan, eyes closing as he drives himself firmly into you. "No one fucks me like you do."

"That's right," he purrs. "Because I’m yours and your mine n’ Daddy knows how to make his good girl feel good."

He’s fucking up into you with abandon, his hands on your thighs, keeping them apart. He can’t stop staring at the two of you in the mirror, bodies rising and falling together, slick with sweat, moaning together in some feral symphony.

You feel suddenly shy, your face turning to him, forehead pressing against his cheek.

"No no," Joel commands gently, his fingers gently forcing your face to the mirror. "Look at how good you look takin’ my cock, baby."

His face slides next to you, cheeks pressed together and in the mirrors reflection you can see the stark difference in your expressions. Joel is completely un-tethered, eyes narrowed and his teeth bared in a feral smile as he thrusts into you. It's the view of a man taking what he thinks is his, of possession, of desire.

You on the other hand are completely fucked out, hair falling into your glassy eyes, mouth hanging open as you make inhuman noises, your naked body jolting with every thrust. You're totally gone, your body his to mold, hands barely able to hold onto his own around your waist.

"Oh pretty girl," Joel groans heavily into your hair. "You're doin' so good. Keep goin' just like that. Daddy loves those sounds you're makin' just for him."

"Fuck me harder Daddy," you gasp, bouncing along his cock. "Harder."

He holds your thighs tightly, fingertips dimpling the flesh as he holds you open for him to see in the mirror and fucks into you even harder. He looks lost watching as your cunt swallows him time and time again, thrust after thrust. Joel cups your tits again, squeezing them together.

"Joel," you whine, pelvis tilting back and forth as you continue crying out at the ceiling. "I don't wanna stop."

"We're not gonna," Joel promises, the two of you falling into a rhythm as he flexes into you. "We ain’t stoppin’."

He doesn’t know what you mean. That you don’t want to stop seeing him. You look over your shoulder at Joel and you let out a keen when you see how fucked out he looks. You have never wanted him more.

"Joel,” you groan, eyelids fluttering. "I need to come."

"C'mon an’ be a good girl," Joel urges you; planting a sloppy kiss to your cheek as you two bounce together. "Use your manners."

He's so deep, working so hard that his back is slick with sweat. Your thighs burn as he holds you open but you don't stop, you don't even adjust because the strain adds to it. It makes it feel even deeper, even sharper. His fingers are on your clit again, sliding and rubbing in the way he knows you love.

"That's my girl," Joel croons against your temple, his mouth breaking into a sinful smile against your hair. "So good for me."

"Please Daddy," you moan. "Let me come for you."

You rise and fall together like the waves of an ocean, his arms wrapped around your middle as your arm goes behind your head, fingers clinging to his neck, your forehead against his jaw. Your hips roll over him, sliding back and forth as Joel fucks into you. You stretch your spine out, back arching and face up at the ceiling as you cry out in high, raspy intonations.

///

"Please Daddy, let me come for you."

The woman’s hips flex as she rides his cock. Her chest rises and Joel's left hand moves to cup her breast, his fingertips worrying her nipple. Tess tries to make out the woman's face but her hair is in her face.

"You gonna come on Daddy's cock like a good girl?"

"Yes Daddy," the woman keens.

Tess feels her eyes blow wide at this. She's never heard Joel refer to himself as Daddy, has never had him encourage her to use the term. He's never fucked Tess on the edge of the bed, holding her in his lap and watching their damp bodies writhing together in the mirror. He's never been unrestrained, so recklessly passionate like this.

Tess registers that her marriage is well and truly over not only because the woman is drawing moans from Joel that Tess has never been able to encourage in him in all their time together. It's because Joel has never looked at Tess the same way he's looking at the woman now. The naked look of reverence and desire mixed in one. Never shown himself to Tess like this, never let himself truly let go.

Tess can see Joel's slick cock sliding out and into the woman's bared pussy, deeper and harder with every thrust.

“That’s it baby," Joel whispers against your mouth. "Give it all here. Lemme have it and you can have mine. Look at Daddy when you come for him."

She does, face tilted up to him, crying loudly and bouncing in his lap, her thighs spread wide. Tess sees arousal flooding over Joel's stiff cock still stuffing the woman's tight cunt.

Tess holds in a grimace as Joel grips the woman's hips in his long fingers.

"You like this?" Joel rasps, fingers worrying the woman's clit as she rides him. "Like me holding you open wide so you see how Daddy fucks his good girl?"

Tess watches the woman’s stomach tighten, sees the fresh gush of arousal around Joel’s cock and knows that she’s come. She gives out a shuddering cry of Joel’s name, her fingernails digging into his hands on her hips. Joel watches her face with a look of naked adoration, his mouth curling into a crooked smile.

“Feel good, baby?”

"Yes," she replies and Tess feels her stomach heave when the two share a soft and tender kiss.

The woman says something else but Tess doesn't hear it. The woman's mouth moves to Joel's ear and suddenly he's got her around the waist, holding her against his chest as his cock saws in and out of her dripping slot, the sounds obscene in the quiet hotel room.

"You feel so fuckin’ good," Joel grunts, his voice guttural.

The woman moans, hips rolling. Her palm comes to hold Joel’s cheek. "Wanna make you come, Joel."

And she does. Tess watches Joel’s face go pinched, his hands clutching the woman tightly to him as his hips slap against her from behind. Joel moans, his entire body convulsing a moment before he empties himself into the woman. They both groan at the sensation, bodies so tightly pressed as their hips slowly stutter to a stop.

Tess stares at the woman and Joel, her eyes fixed on the debauched view of his come leaking out of her pussy as she sits spread wide on his lap. Joel's eyes won't leave the woman's face and the woman’s fingers lace through his curls at the base of his scalp.

"I've never wanted someone the way I want you," Joel confesses quietly.

It's not just that comment which infuriates Tess. It's the way Joel's eyes are still gazing into the woman's face. It's an open, loving look without restraint. The woman murmurs something to Joel, something Tess can't hear. And suddenly Tess can't take it another second. She bursts towards them, eyes blazing.

"What the fuck is going on?"

///

You start when you hear Tess ' voice sound out behind you. Instinct tells you to turn around but everything in you stays frozen on Joel's lap as his softening cock slips from you.

"Tess," Joel croaks. "What are-"

He stops himself, realizing that he's still holding your naked body open wide. You know he's hoping the same things you are. That Tess didn't see your face.

Joel snaps into action, he grips the nearby robe and wraps it around you. He slips you off his lap, leaving you shaking on the bed as he pulls on his boxers. He stands between you on the bed and Tess standing watching you hide behind him.

Tess stands at the door of the room, her suitcase in one hand and a hotel key card in the other. In your frenzy neither of you heard the beep of the door as she came in.

"Conference got cancelled," Tess says stiffly. "Thought I'd come surprise you and Sarah. Looks like I really surprised you."

Tess is quiet as you rush off to the bathroom, Joel's come leaking down your leg. You slam the door behind you, leaning against it as you slump to the floor. You can hear their voices outside in the room.

“How did you get in here?”

“I told them my husband was staying here,” Tess hisses back. "Who the fuck was that, Joel?"

"None of your business, Tess.”

You sit against the door, ear pressed even though they're both speaking so loudly you needn’t have bothered.

“Should have known you’d have a little side piece to keep your cock warm.”

“That’s not what she is,” Joel defends angrily. “And you’re not mad at her. I’m the one you were married to.”

“Were?” Tess says choking down a laugh. “Did I miss something Joel? Last time I checked we still were.”

“Tess,” Joel says in a soft voice. “The divorce papers are signed. I don’t even know why you’re here in the first place.”

“I was coming here to see if we could still make it work,” Tess says chagrined. “I have the divorce papers in my bag. I was sitting on mailing them out. Fucking foolish of me when you have a little whore keeping your dick wet.”

“Don’t call her that,” Joel snaps. “I’m serious.”

You wish you could see him through the door. You stand, moving to sit on the toilet, wrapping the robe tighter around you. You clean yourself with one of the towels, feeling sick to your stomach.

“She seemed young,” Tess scoffs. “Now I understand the fascination. Bet you love eating her pussy don’t you? She taste good, Joel? Sweet?”

Joel doesn’t answer and you’re frankly shocked at how Tess is speaking. She didn’t seem this kind of person when you met her at Christmas.

“She just love sucking your cock?” Tess continues and you can feel Joel’s shame through the door. “Does she know you have a daughter about her age?”

“Yes.”

“How long have you known her for, Joel?”

Silence. The kind of silence that is more incriminating

Say something Joel. Something. Anything.

And then he does say something. But it’s not what you expect.

“No, Tess don’t-“

The door to the bathroom is thrust open and Tess stands in the doorway, staring down at you. You feel your soul leave your body when her see her register who you are.

"You?" She chokes out. "You?!"

"I'm so sorry," you say and the tears are spilling from your eyes. "I'm so so sorry."

Because you are.

You feel so deeply ashamed with yourself. All the times you told yourself it was a fling and it didn’t matter. All the times you pushed Tess from your mind because she wasn’t there to remind you that you were doing something incredibly wrong. And you feel so much guilt because you want her husband, you love him.

Tess backs into the room, her eyes blown wide as she looks at you emerging from the bathroom, face blotchy and eyes wet with tears.

“I welcomed you into my home,” Tess whispers in horror, her face white. “I cooked for you, I- Oh my God – is this… did it start back then?” She whirls on Joel looking ashamedly at his feet. “How long has this been going on, Joel? Tell me the fucking truth.”

Joel’s voice is low and quiet.

“Christmas.”

“Christmas,” Tess echoes weakly. “You’ve been fucking this little college slut for months?”

“Hey,” Joel says sharply, inadvertently coming to stand between Tess and the bed, shielding you.

“Big, strong protector,” Tess says with a disgusted laugh. She gives you a hollow look. “Until he gets bored of you and finds another college girl to fuck, right?”

“Tess, I know you’re hurtin’ and I’m sorry,” Joel says truthfully. “But you need to stop.”

“Did you fuck her in our bed?”

Joel can’t reply and you feel your stomach drop when Tess shake her head before sneering over at you, giving you a once over full of derision. Then her eyes are back on Joel’s increasingly red face.

“You get that you’re just some older guy she’ll fuck until she gets bored. A story she’ll look back on and laugh about with her age appropriate husband in about ten years.”

"Tess-"

"You feel good knowing you threw away our entire marriage for some college pussy?"

“Stop, please,” you beg, hating the look that’s clouding Joel’s face. That scared, uncertain look. “Please, Tess.”

"Why?" Tess scoffs angrily and you flinch at the way she hisses at you. “You don’t like hearing the truth? How you broke up a family because you wanted to fuck my husband?”

You hate knowing that you’ve hurt Tess so badly. You just never thought she would find out.

“Tess stop,” Joel says and now his voice is that same dark whisper. The scary one that sets goosebumps across your body. “I was the one that cheated on you. Be mad at me.”

“Oh don’t worry about that, I am,” Tess says with a shallow laugh before pointing at you with the key card. "But she played an equal part in this. If she’s old enough to have an affair with my husband, she’s old enough to hear this. You understand that you’re a midlife crisis, right? Most men get sportscars, but I guess Joel Miller’s not like most men.”

“She ain’t that,” Joel tells Tess and you feel the anger mixed with shame radiating off of him.

“No?” Tess’s mouth is curled into a ghoulish expression of amusement. “Why Joel? Are you in love with her or something?”

"Yes."

The speed in which he replies shocks not only Tess but you as well. Your head jerks to the side to face him. His eyes go to your face, the feeling so clear in his gaze. Your heart swells at the sight of it despite everything.

“Of course you are,” Tess laughs cruelly. “Joel Miller the romantic.”

“Tess-“

“You two are just fucking around, ruining marriages and families and I’m supposed to believe this is some love story for the ages?” Tess scowls as she collapses into the chair nearest to her. “Are you fucking deluded?”

You chance a glance over at Joel to see his jaw clenched and his dark eyes far away. Part of you wants to beg Tess’s forgiveness; the other part wants to slap her for making Joel look so beaten down.

"How many others have there been?" Tess demands. You watch Joel's cheeks flame and your stomach drops at the length of time it takes him to answer. Were there others? You never even thought to ask.

"Just her," he finally utters quietly. "Only wanted her."

You realize now his hesitancy. If there had been several you'd just be a number Tess could forget about. But as it is there is only you, which means something more. Tess turns her ire on you now, her light eyes flashing.

"How could you do this to your friend?" Tess demands of you. "Forget about me, how could you do this to Sarah? How could you break up her family?"

You feel sick to your stomach. All the minutes and hours and weeks and months you spent pining for Joel, did you ever really consider the true ramifications? Or the people you would both hurt? Or were you just so intent on having him that everything else was pushed aside?

"Tess, it wasn't her," Joel assures her. "You and I had been unhappy long before Christmas. Meeting her just... It just confirmed how I'd been feeling for months."

“We were married. We were happy.”

"Were we really happy Tess?" Joel challenges. “I wanted more kids and you didn’t.”

“She’s gonna give you kids, is that it?”

Joel ignores this question, can tell without looking over at you that there must be a stricken expression on your face.

"When you weren't at work and it was just us we barely spent time together. And when we did most of the time we'd argue."

"But there were good times," Tess defends.

"I know," Joel nods. "S'why I didn't break things off right away."

You don't like hearing this. Hearing how Joel wasn't sure. Hearing about his life when you weren't there. It makes your face crumple when you hear it. Joel must notice because his face is turning to you.

"But I couldn't forget her."

He goes to reach for you but stops when he hears Tess give a disgusted scoff. Your arms are wrapped around your body, wishing more than anything this moment was over. But Tess isn’t finished. Not by a long shot.

“And what did Sarah have to say about this?” Tess demands. “Something tells me she wouldn’t have been thrilled to see her best friend and her father fucking.”

The dual silence of you and Joel tells her everything.

“Ohhh….She doesn’t know,” Tess says in a mock hushed tone. “Well, maybe someone should tell her.”

You watch in horror as Tess reaches for her cell phone in her purse. Your stomach lurches and you dart forward, ignoring Joel’s hand grazing your waist as you pass him.

"Tess please," you beg, hand outstretched. "You can hate me and Joel as much as you want. But please think of how telling her like this will affect Sarah.”

Tess stares at you, a sinister curl of amusement on her lips. “Like you thought about how it would affect Sarah when you started fucking her dad?”

No, you never thought of Sarah. All you thought about was your own selfish pleasure. How were you so fucking deluded to think that loving Joel would be enough? Tess is one thing – according to him their marriage was already suffering and aside from this moment you never thought you’d have to see her.

But Sarah? Sarah was innocent in all of this. Sarah your only true friend.

“I didn’t because I’m a selfish piece of shit,” you tell her firmly. “But you aren’t.”

“Oh no?” Tess is almost laughing at your solemnity.

“No,” you shake your head. “From the moment I met you, I knew you were the kind of person to do the right thing. And you know that telling Sarah about us like this is wrong. It would break her heart. Sarah doesn't deserve this. She's never done anything to you. Ever."

“And I deserved it?” Tess challenges. “I deserved to have some little college slut fuck my husband?”

The tears are falling down, hot and steady down your warm cheeks. Because she has every right to hate you both. You did something wrong, so impossibly wrong. You shake your head lightly, trying to swallow more of the tears.

“No, you didn’t.”

You feel your cheeks burn with shame and guilt as you lower yourself to your knees, head bowed. You face her, subservient in your stance, ignoring as Joel calls your name. Your fold your hands in front of you, lacing the fingers together as if in prayer.

“Tess I’m so so sorry for what we did. I know that an apology means nothing. It means less than nothing,” you say, debasing yourself. “I understand you hating me for the rest of your life. What we did was fucking wrong, there’s no way around that. I don’t know how to fix it. I really don’t.”

You take a deep breath and try to swallow down the cracking sobs starting in your rib cage.

“But Tess I’m begging you, please don’t tell Sarah. Sarah loves Joel so much, finding out this way would devastate her. She doesn’t deserve to pay for our fuck up. She doesn’t deserve to learn about it like this, please don’t tell Sarah. Please.”

The sobs begin in earnest and you try to swallow them down once more, your chest heaving. When you finally glance up you can see that Tess is glassy-eyed and ignoring you there on the floor.

“I wanna talk in private,” Tess says, looking at Joel. “You owe me that much.”

You continue sitting there on the floor, tears streaming down your face until you feel Joel’s hand gently alight on your shoulder.

"Can you give us a minute?" Joel asks you. "I'll send a text."

For some reason this hurts more than anything. To know that you’re the one being asked to leave in all of this. And yet you nod, grabbing your phone from the nightstand and leaving quickly, tightening the robe around your middle.

///

You’re sitting in the pool area, lying on one of the puffy chaise lounges. It’s been two hours of scrolling your phone and wiping away tears as you try to face away from the families splashing around in the pool.

Joel loves you.

Sarah is going to hate you.

Joel loves you.

You keep waiting for Sarah to call you in tears, screaming at you for ruining her life. When your phone buzzes you feel your stomach jump. You raise the screen to your face with shaking fingers.

[HIM 💜]: She left.

The trudge back to the hotel room is a slow one, your heart heavy. There’s no way Joel is going to want to continue this with you. And you’ve realized now that it’s going to break your fucking heart when he ends things.

You slip past him when the door opens, trying to mask your tears. You go to the bed, looking at the rumpled sheets and your red panties strewn to the side. It doesn’t look like the bed of two people in love. It looks like the bed of two selfish people.

Joel rests a hand on the doorknob, shoulders hunched at his ears. You can see the red at the back of his neck when you look back at him.

“Is she gonna tell Sarah?”

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Joel says it firmly, without question and you believe him. You want to ask him what he and Tess talked about, but at the same time you don’t want to know. You don’t want to think about how hurt she was.

And now you can’t stop thinking about Joel loving you. He loves you. Love. And you love him. This should be a time of celebration. But instead you stand there, eyes on his feet. Because love won’t be enough. He won’t want this with you, not at such a cost.

You blink back the tears and try to steady your voice.

“I guess we’re over, then?”

You make a motion between your bodies, waiting for Joel’s agreement. When several moments pass in silence you finally raise your gaze to Joel’s. He’s put a t-shirt on, but he still wears his boxers. He looks so vulnerable, despite his breadth and you can see the gloss that has begun in his dark eyes.

"Baby, come here."

Without thought you cross the room and move into his waiting embrace, arms banding around his waist. He holds you tightly to him, your head tucked under his chin. He sways you gently from side to side, his heart under your ear.

“I don’t want us to be over,” he murmurs against the crown of your head. “But I understand if this is too much for you.”

You hold him tighter, the tears no longer flowing. Being in his arms feels so safe and so right. You hate how right it feels in Joel Miller’s arms. If it felt even a tiny bit awful you could turn away, you could walk from this hotel and never give him a second thought. As it is, you feel something deep and eternal for him.

"Did you mean it? About loving me?"

Joel’s large hands move to cup your face, turning your red-rimmed eyes up to face him. He stares at you in that impossibly soft way that only Joel Miller possesses. The kind of way that spells affection in the flecks of honey in his iris, the way that shows adoration in the round of his pupils.

"Yeah," Joel whispers and suddenly he looks like a lost little boy as you stare up at him. "Is that okay?"

It takes everything in you not to cry again. You’re sick of crying. You want to remember how Joel is looking down at you now. How your hands lay against his waist, holding him. How in this moment you’ve never loved anyone more.

"Yes,” you finally whisper back. “Joel, I've loved you for so long."

“I know,” Joel admits, his eyes glassy. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time, baby. Was just scared to admit it, I think.”

His mouth finds yours, his hand sliding to the back of your neck as you wrap your arms around his waist once more. There’s no heat in this kiss, just a deep abiding love that you sense with every soft dab of his lips against yours.

“I wanna take care of you,” Joel murmurs, kissing the corner of your mouth. "I want you to come back to Austin with me. I want you to come stay with me for the summer. Please say yes."

Your stomach jumps in both anticipation and tremendous fear. This is a huge step for the both of you. And you’re scared that Joel is offering this because of how horrible this evening was with Tess. You bring a thumb to stroke his cheek, smiling up at him gently.

“Let’s go to bed,” you say.

Joel blinks before nodding, pressing a full-lipped kiss to your mouth before taking your hand in his and leading you to the bed. The two of you are completely wiped from everything. Still wearing your robe and Joel in his boxers, the two of you collapse into bed. Joel flicks off the light and draws you to him.

“I love you,” Joel murmurs against your forehead. Your heart sings at the sound of it and your mouth curls into a soft, contented smile.

///

You wake the next morning with a strange sensation. A mixture of joy an apprehension as you open your eyes. Joel is already awake, balancing on one arm and looking at you with a gentle smile. His hair is mussed from sleep, the curls flattened on one side. That shouldn’t make your heart jump with affection, but it does.

“Was wondering when you’d wake up. You were out like a light.”

“Shit,” you say, propping yourself onto your elbows. “What time is it?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Joel soothes, brushing the hair from your eyes. “I got us a late checkout.”

“Thanks.”

Your eyes drop to the space between you on the bed. A small sliver of waved blankets that in this moment feel like a canyon. You smooth your hands over it, feeling the soft texture. Joel watches this, you can feel his eyes on you. He knows you so well.

“What are you thinkin’ about?”

“About what you asked me last night,” you admit. “About coming to Austin with you.”

Joel grows serious, taking a slow inhale. “And?”

“I’m worried you’re saying it because of everything with Tess,” you admit, fingers plucking the bed sheets absently. “And I don’t want that. I want it to be because it’s something you want, not something you feel obligated to do.”

Joel launches himself off of the bed before you can finish your thought. You watch his broad shoulders bared, his body covered in only his boxers as he knees down, rummaging for something in his suitcase.

You stare at him puzzled when he comes back with an envelope and a small square box. He sits across from you on the bed, his large frame comically child-like in the cross-legged pose. He passes you the envelope first.

You open it, confused when you pull out a long piece of paper until you realize what you’re looking at. An airline ticket to Austin and your name in on it. Your eyes dart in surprise to Joel’s open gaze. He sits with his hands folded on his muscled thighs. He rubs the palms along them a few times before nervously swallowing.

“Wanted this for a long time,” he tells you. “Longer than I wanna admit.”

A smile breaks out over your features. This wasn’t a last minute plan to smooth over what happened last night. He wanted you to come back with him to Austin for a while. Living with him for an entire summer.

“I was gonna ask you properly last night,” he admits. “The same time I gave you this.”

Joel takes your chin in his thumb and forefinger, stroking sweetly before motioning to the box between the two of you. It's a small square box in a color you know too well: Tiffany blue wrapped in a black ribbon.

"Open it."

You do slowly, feeling nervous with Joel's gaze on you. The ribbon drifts to the floor until all you're left with is a small square box with Tiffany & Co embossed on the front. You let your fingers trail over the grooves of the letters.

He wouldn't propose.

No it's too early. It's too much. You can't possibly say yes can you? No, it's insane. His divorce isn't even finalized yet. Your trembling fingers open the box, eyes widening until you see what rests inside.

Relief floods you when you see a delicate silver chain and pendant sitting on the velvet cushion inside. It's simple; a thin x with diamonds in each of the empty spaces and the shape is unmistakable.

A snowflake.

It's on a slender silver chain that sparkles in the light as you remove it from the velvet cushion.

"Here, lemme put it on ya," Joel murmurs, taking the delicate jewelry in his wide fingers. You twist away from him, sliding your hair over one shoulder. You feel him fumble with it against the nape of your neck and you hold in a shiver at the sensation.

"Perfect," be murmurs, tracing a finger along the chain.

"It's just ... This is so much, Joel. The necklace, the hotel, the massage.” Guilt gnaws at your belly. “Did you get anything for Sarah?"

Joel's head tilts slightly as he regards you. "You're worried I didn't get anything for Sarah?"

"I guess ...” you falter. “I just ..."

"I got her a ring made from one that used to belong to her mom. I paid for her and Charlie to stay at a swanky hotel in town for the weekend," Joel promises, kissing the worry from between your brows. "Plus a few other things that ain't your business because she's my kid."

He says the last part in a jesting tone, pinching the end of your nose in his knuckles and squeezing gently a moment. Relief floods you at this admission.

"Good."

Joel surveys you a moment, features drawn. He takes your hand in his, wide thumb tracing the back.

"My daughter will always be my biggest priority," Joel informs you, concern trailing over his strong features. "You never have to worry about that."

"Alright."

Joel swallows.

"But you also need to understand it, too. I need you to be okay with it, cuz that ain't changing. She's always gonna be my kid."

Adoration flows from you as you look at Joel. The difference between he and your parents rearing is so stark it fills your eyes with tears.

"I think that's why I fell for you from the start," you admit without thinking. "Because of how well you love her."

Joel's face is pure sweetness as he looks at you.

"But that doesn't mean you're not a priority too," he tells you with earnestness. "You're my girl."

His large palms come to either side of your jaw, tilting your mouth to his. His girl. How long did you pine over Joel Miller dreaming of a life where you're his? And now you are. Here in his arms, kissing him fiercely.

You break apart, flushed happily. You look back at your necklace, tracing the small pendant before turning it over. Your brows knit together in confusion as you see the engraved letter on the back.

"H?"

"For Heather," Joel tells you shyly. "I just know she'd be proud of you, baby. Maybe even more than me."

And that’s it, the moment you fall so hard for Joel Miller than no one could catch you. Your heart overflows with affection for him as you launch yourself into his lap, holding him. Everything about him feels right as he pulls you against him, his breathing soft and steady.

“I wanna come back to Austin with you Joel,” you tell him with a watery smile. “I wanna spend the summer with you.”

“Are you sure, baby?” Joel asks, concern clear in his features. “I don’t wanna pressure-“

“I’m sure,” you answer, your mouth kissing his jaw, then his lips. You pull back because there is something so engaging about Joel’s eyes. You see everything in the depths of his large, chocolate colored gaze.

"Joel... How do you just..."

"Just what?"

"See me," you say softly. You can’t find another word to describe it. All the things you’ve tried to keep hidden, the secrets, the shame, he sees it all. And he loves you through all of it.

"Same way you see me," Joel offers.

Joel's eyes are so impossibly soft as he stares at you and when you press your mouth to his, he's so warm. You’re convinced that if you cut your veins they would bleed the color of Joel’s eyes, that your heart is wrapped up in his flesh, that you are a part of him and he’s a part of you.

"Make love to me," you whisper against his lips.

You don't know that it's possible considering all that’s gone on in the last twenty four hours. But you need to feel him inside you right now; you need to be as physically close as two people can be.

"Of course," Joel murmurs back his nose gently tracing yours. "Whatever my girl wants."

Any fears that he won't be able to perform are allayed when he brings your thigh over his and you feel his hardened cock at your entrance. You both shimmy out of your under things, kicking them onto the hotel floor. He removes the robe from your body and on his side he holds you, thumb rubbing the plush of your hips. He urges your thigh over his hip and then he slides into you slowly, both of you gasping softly at the sensation of his cock and your cunt meeting in pleasure.

“I love you so much sweet girl,” he tells you. “So much.”

“I love you too,” you whisper, eyes locked on his. “I've never really been in love before."

And it's true, you realize as Joel slowly and sweetly makes love to you that you've never actually loved anyone. You thought you loved Conrad but that was an infatuation. He never saw you like Joel does. He never held you like Joel is holding you now.

He holds you like a cherished artwork, like something precious. Like you’re worth something, even though your whole life you’ve been told the opposite.

His mouth goes to your neck, kissing and licking there as you whimper against him. He gently moves you onto your back and you let him take control of the motion. Your hands lace in Joel’s at the side of your head, holding you in place, his body sliding along yours.

"Gonna hold you like this every day in Austin," Joel breathes as he continues to slowly thrust into you deeply from this angle. "Gonna cook for you. Gonna take you on dates. I’m gonna take care of you."

"I want that too," you breathe, mouth over his, swallowing his cries. "Wanna be with you so much, Joel.”

He notices your eyes closed tightly, body rocking gently against his. He lets this happen a few moments, watching as your body begins to flush and your brows saddle. But soon he feels himself approaching his climax and he needs your gaze.

"Eyes open for me, pretty girl," he murmurs and your eyes crack open at his request.

The two of you stare deeply into one another's eyes, the moment heavy. You can see Joel's mouth starting to quiver as he breathes, something he does when he's about to come. He holds you tighter to him and neither of you can look away when your climaxes overtakes you.

He spills into you while crying out your name, you follow soon after with his name half-uttered before your groans of pleasure become too much. You both stay like this a moment, he soft but still buried within you. You kiss fiercely, desire flooding you both at the knowledge that this is only the beginning.

“Better get you to the dorm,” Joel offers. “Gotta pack for Austin… As long as that’s still something you want?”

You see the indecision in his eyes, the continued concern that he’s forcing you into something you don’t want. You hum a soothing noise before you press a palm to his whiskery cheek, watching him go from nervous to calm at your touch.

“I can’t wait.”

-----------

taglist:

@fanficaddictmwah @southernbe @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @604to647 @ashleyfilm @survivingandenduring @weirdoneattheparty @lilipads @cinnamongorll @katiexpunk @emotrash1 @booksaremyfood @mellymbee @ashleyfilm @magpiepills @sptbear @getitoutofmymind

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luffyvace · 3 months

Note

helooo can i request saiki x reader bf texts please? thank you so much !! anything is fine honestly as long as its saiki content i miss him 😭😭😭😭

ooooou I haven’t got a request like this yet and it seems very fun!! No problem hun <3

IKR after you finish the anime it feels like such limited content is left for the saiki k fandom!! 😭😭

💓💗 Saiki and his boyfriend~ 💗💓

“Wanna go get some coffee jelly”

“This is oddly specific but can you tell the magician outside to leave please?”

”can you keep aiura and torisuka distracted so I can leave school?”

”thanks I’ll pay you back in (favorite thing)”

”let’s meet at the arcade”

”I’m annoyed my mom is forcing me to go outside but I know I’m gonna run into kaido”

”please come with me to make this more bearable”

”don’t forget to study for that test”

convos :3

”how do I make friends with that average guy from the other class without seeming weird”

”Kusuo idk just go up to him and talk to him 😭”

”yeah but if I don’t have something to talk about it’ll be awkward and my likeability meter will go down”

”can you figure out his interests for me so I can talk to him?”

”what? YOU do it 🤦”

”no i can’t the nuisances will find me”

convo 2 ;P

“Do you wanna come shopping with me?”

”your not gonna invite the nuisances too are you?”

”no kusuo 😭”

”oh okay well no”

“I'm NOT!”

“I know but nuisance number 4 just showed up”

”at your house?”

”no at the mall”

”ohh well fine 🤦”

convo 3

”can I borrow your bike nendo broke mine”

”HOW?”

”idk he sat on it”

”WHAT LOLL”

”I need it so I don’t have to go shopping with my dad”

”why is that so bad?? 😭”

”because he starts begging for things at the store”

”??”

“Isn’t he a grown man?”

”yeah I know that’s why I need to borrow your bike”

”sure babe..😭🤦”

convo 4

”my mom wants you to come over for dinner”

”oh alright!”

”no”

“??”

”say your sick”

”kuu why? 😭😭”

”can’t I come over??”

”no my parents are embarrassing”

”LOL”

”but I’ve come over plenty of times before tho”

”I know but, please just don’t come over”

”what’s happening??”

”fine. My dad wants to play a prank on someone because when he try to scare me it didn’t work. So I need you to come over and pretend to be scared so my mom doesn’t kill me”

”what?? So now I’m supposed to come over?”

”let’s just get it over with”

”you go through so much I swear 😭💗”

convo 5

”when you come over and my mom asks if you wanna meet my brother say no”

”whaaat but I kinda wanna meet him”

”say no”

”for both of our sakes”

”if you don’t go I won’t have to either”

”fine 😒”

convo 6

”goodnight kuu”

”goodnight m/n”

convo 7

“I hear nuisance number 4 isn’t showing up to school today”

”no she isn’t”

”rejoice. God is real.”

”KUSUO 😭😭”

convo 8

“your driving home today right? Can I hitch a ride? Nuisance number 1 is here”

”wait which nuisance is that again?”

”how can you forget? It’s the second most terrible one. Nuisance 1 is nendo”

”OHH YEAHH”

”hurry he’s coming”

”YEAH MEET ME AT THE CAR LOL”

convo 9

”come with me to nuisance number 2’s house so I don’t have to go alone”

”kaido right? he’s not so bad right? I can’t I have homework”

”no he’s just really weird and cringe and awkward”

“I’ll wait”

”okay 😭”

convo 10

“can I come over and we can watch that show you recommended me?”

”yeah sure any time kuu”

”you really don’t have to ask, I could get you a spare key if you want”

”yes an emergency escape route in case of nuisance surprises”

”WOW OK”

”and you ig”

convo 11

”that was sweet. what you did for them”

“Yeah I guess they’re not so bad for now”

”for now Kusuo?”

”you sound like my mom”

”actually, that’s not an insult I love your mom”

”I know”

”WYM 😭”

”you hug her more than I do”

”well that proves smth 🤨🤨”

”eh. I’ll get her a gift”

”good cuz she’s awesome 😙”

convo 12

“let’s finish playing that game you have”

”NO”

”WHY IT WAS SO FUNNY”

”you have never even played it he’s so annoying”

”LOLL YOU DIDNT HAVE TO TELL HIM TO DIE THO”

”you wouldn’t even think it’s funny if I hadn’t have told you”

”come on at least least me see the chapter you said you hated”

”you just wanna see me suffer”

”If I did I wouldn’t have distracted hairo for you earlier”

”FINE”

”LOL YIPPIE I’m coming over as soon as I’m done with my homework 🙂”

”😒”

convo 13

“How do I transfer to class 2”

”you just wanna be with satou don’t you”

”you don’t know how?”

”no kuu, I don’t 🤦”

convo 14

“I have to go visit my grandparents and my granddad is really awkward come with me”

“I’D LOVE TO MEET THEM”

”why do you love my family so much?”

”they’re strange”

”I love YOU 😒”

”are you calling me weird”

”in what way are you normal mister magic powers with weird friends and family who also has to stop a volcano from erupting yearly”

”those are just ordinary daily tasks”

”now your coming right?”

”I should leave you”

”you wish you were normal so bad”

”when are we going”

”on second thought you can stay here”

”STOP BEING SALTY IM COMING”

”NOW TELL ME WHEN”

convo 15

”let’s reschedule the coffee jelly date for Sunday”

”it’s too chaotic”

”it’s Friday”

”I know I’m dreading the weekend”

”my poor kuu 😭”

”stop”

”you sound like my mom again”

*read* 1:39pm

LOL I LOVE CONVO 10-15 😊😈 (it got more chaotic as it went on- 😭)

muahahahahhaha hope you enjoyed! these were quite fun :3

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serpentthecrow · 1 year

Note

Hi! May I request a Peter Pevensie x GN Reader Polaroid Love songfic? The plot idea sets in Highschool AU where Peter had a love at first sight meet-cute with a transferee student? Just pure fluff too, thanks! ❤️

HI!!OMG MY FIRST REQUEST!! THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON❤️❤️ this song is really good! Anyways, I hope you like what I've come up with!! It's not that long and I have no social skills whatsoever, so, sorry about that.

Polaroid love

Peter Pevensie x GN!reader

Summary: it's your first day at your new school and it's no surprise you run into the said school's golden boy; Peter Pevensie. What is a surprise though, is that the meeting starts something more than a new term.

Warnings: like... None, except for cringy fluff and also highschool!AU

📷💓📷💓📷💓📷💓📷💓📷💓📷

'This school better be good'

You think, as you enter the main building of your new highschool. You have just moved to London from your home country and it's time for you to resume the education you ended in your previous home.

As you put your things into your newly assigned locker and look around, the school looks pretty much like any cliché public highschool from Friday night rom-coms. The ones following the stories of highschool sweethearts in an overdramatic charade that lasted for way too many uncreative episodes. The one where girls would freak out that no school-team footballer looked at them for whole 2 seconds, always so reliable on love. A school that would be perfect for romanticising the inevitable dread of studying in attempts to make it a bit more bearable. Who needs love when you've got books?

Only if you knew what was about to happen..

Some of said stereotypes were walking down the hall just now. A bunch of boys, no doubt coming from early morning soccer practice. One of them, assumably the captain of team and leader of the friend group even opened the locker next to yours, but you knew better than to try and talk to boys, so the only thing you caught on your way to your first class of the day was a glimpse of blonde hair.

"Thank you kids, that'll be all for today, but finish reading this chapter today please!" The teacher called over the sound of numerous students packing their supplies into their backpacks. You packed your supplies as well, only leaving the book your teacher mentioned on the desk.

You were headed to the school grounds to spend your lunch break outside, so you could read the remaining pages on your way there, at least you wouldn't forget to finish it later. However, this school was bigger than the one you were used to, which meant more kids, and that resulted in reading not being the best thing while walking.

Halfway to your destination, you suddenly bumped into something, or rather someone. A bit of golden hair flashed in front of you, just like at the lockers. Not that you connected that, when in a matter of seconds, you lost your balance and if the blonde person didn't catch you, you would've been on the ground.

"Hey woah, easy there" were the first words you heard from him. "You okay?" The boy questioned, cocking his head downwards to look you in the face. "Yeah" you respond immediately. " I'm so sorry, you're new, right?" The stranger asks. "Yeah" you reply once more. His concerned expression morphs into something almost guilt-filled as he remembers his manners and sticks a hand out for you to take. "Peter Pevensie" he-Peter introduces himself, adding a name to the face. You shake his hand and tell him your name, to which he grins.

"You've got a really pretty name" he compliments. Your face feels hot from the comment. "Thanks" you stutter out. What are you supposed to say to that?

"I'm really sorry though. You're going for lunch, aren't you? Mind if I walk you there and carry your books, you know, as an apology?" The request seems almost nervous. "Sure, I could use a hand" is your slightly awkward reply while you bring his attention to the stack of textbooks in your hands by lifting them slightly, which he uses to his advantage, taking them from you.

You begin a somewhat slow stroll together, one that ends at one of the benches outside of the school building. Peter ends up eating with you, talking without anything and everything. He checks his watch some time later, realizing it's almost time for his next class. Before he leaves, you exchange numbers with him and as he reluctantly walks away from you, he turns to you once more with a sweet smile and a wave. When he's out of sight, you grin widely looking at his number, before starting to pack up yourself.

As you are putting your lunchbox into your bag, your best friend, who was, not so discreetly, observing you a few benches from you, walks past and drops a small paper on the table in front of you. When you turn it around, you find out that it's a photograph from their Polaroid camera which they got for their recent birthday. It's a photo of you and Peter, laughing at something funny he said, heads thrown back. Looking at the photo, you think, that maybe love wouldn't be so bad.

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

If you'd also like to requests something, my requests are open, please read my pinned post before requesting, there you'll find rules but also the fandoms I write for ❤️❤️

#peter pevensie #narnia imagine #peter pevensie imagine #peter pevensie x reader #highschool au

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v4leoftears · 1 year

Text

Dorm days (Daredevil) 18+ Matt Murdock

Dorm days (oneshot) 18+ MINORS DNI!!

Synopsis: College life has Matt and Foggy exhausted, living together without privacy makes Matt try to seek a little peace in the shared bathroom without any luck, he can hear EVERYTHING Foggy does in his 'free time'.

Warnings: Voyeur, Masturbation.

THAT'S IT, ENJOY!! (First time posting a fic around since English is not my first language, let me know what you think!).

********************

It's another late night studying and sending papers for revision in the friends room, Foggy is just finishing up on a lecture when Mathew opens the door with a little too much annoyance, a frown on his face and a heaviness in his walk.

"Hey green man! you better be careful with that thing or we are gonna have to replace it with our own money, and I should remind you, we have like $15 bucks in our favor for the rest of the month." Foggy laughs innocently while Matt processes what just happened.

"I uhh, sorry." Matt replied dryly, his mind seems to be too busy today to even have a little chuckle from his roomie shenanigans.

"Everything okay man?" Said Foggy with a worry in his brows. "I'm just... exhausted, you know how things have been the entire week" Matt replies, taking off his jacket and shoes.

"Yeah man, It's been nuts, but HEY CHEER UP A LITTLE!" Foggy says a little too excited. "Weekend is just one day away and we are going to be able to get hammered for free in that dude's party, remember?"

"UH yeah, that guy from your Punjabi class right?" Matt replies as he finishes placing all his belongings on the bed. "I thought It was going to be next week, I might be a little busy over the weekend."

"You need to lay off the books from time to time Matty" Foggy says playfully as he walks to the other side of the room to be an arm's length away from Matt. "Enjoy life, be a little wild with me! Come on man, just this time!" He adds with his hands making a prayer gesture.

"Okay, okay! I'll think about it buddy" Matt replies with a chuckle. "But before that I need a shower" he says as he takes his towel off the hook from behind the door.

"Sure man, take your time" Foggy replies as he goes back to his bed and places his headphones and laptop comfortably with him, Mathew walks to the bathroom and locks the door.

As Matt finishes undressing he starts noticing a change of pace in Foggy's heartbeat, it was heavier and faster, after all those months of getting used to each other he knew more than well what that meant. As per usual occasion, Foggy took the liberty of improving his mood on his favorite website while Matt is out of sight, Matt on the other hand has been pent up for days without a single chance to relieve himself due to the lack of privacy and things to do, and while he prepares to hop on the shower, small and quiet grunts of annoyance fills the small room as Matt tries not to listen at whatever lusty sounds came out of his friend’s headphones. Without any luck to suppress them it has him battling his own mind on whether he should be hearing such an intimate moment, he knew it was wrong, but his heated thoughts had other plans against his will and he was feeling already guilty for what was about to come.

Taking on a deep breath he let the hot water run on his back, it felt so good against his tired muscles. Droplets of water drowned the sounds of his friend and his headphones, it made everything so much softer and bearable for him to focus on his own pleasure, softly running a hand through his lower abdomen while the other hand massages his neck, it was such a warm and delicious sensation he was so desperately needing. He hesitated a few moments before placing one of his large hands on his needy length, his own heartbeat running wild as shy moans tried to keep up the pace of his strokes, the steam of the shower only helped build up as much heat as he could handle, he was already so sensitive and he tried to fight his own pleasure just to keep it going a few more moments to enjoy the sensation.

Fighting his own mind and thoughts he sinfully got his attention back to how his friend was doing, he knew it was wrong, it was so wrong it felt so good, a drowned moan invaded Matthew’s ears, his friend had finally reached out his climax, guilt and embarrassment written all over his face as he stroked faster to end up the bashful act, he huffed and panted quietly as he felt the rush of dopamine flood his head, and without any more thought in mind he let his sinful doing spill all over his hand. Trying to get his breath and heart rate at ease he couldn’t help but feel so guilty at what he has just done, not the act itself, but the boundaries he stepped on while invading his best friend privacy got his head overthinking, he knew it was going to be uncomfortable to small talk before going to sleep, but to his wonderful surprise Foggy had just fallen asleep when he stepped out of the bathroom, and with a tired everything he simply gave his body up on his still messy bed and passed out as the soft bed sheets comforted him.

Sweet dreams you handsome devil.

******************

#matt murdock #daredevil fanfiction #foggy nelson #daredevil x reader #daredevil fic #marvel smut #daredevil smut #matt murdock x reader #marvel fanfiction #mattfoggy #foggymatt #mattxfoggy

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dumbsweetielemonpie22 · 2 years

Text

Zoro x Reader - Unbearable Heat Pt1

Hi again, I wrote this OneShot around March?, I was not very well and just needed to distract myself so I wrote this, it is the first part and I will write the second part later.

Also I tried again not to mention the gender of the reader, it's not mentioned but it has a slight hint of being female because of Sanji.

(e/c)- eye color

(h/c)- hair color

Happy reading~

CW: sick reader, hyperthermia, reader with low self-esteem, self-doubt, fluff, mention that the reader has fluffy a tail and ears

Sleep had been impossible, even though we were in the middle of the open sea, we must have been affected by some summer island by now. The heat was unbearable and you, as a user of Devil Fruit with the power to transform into a snow leopard and born on a winter island, couldn't stand the heat.

Finally you decided to get out of bed and put on something fresh, hoping there was a cool breeze on deck. You headed in the direction of the noisy kitchen.

You were already feeling a little headache but as it was still bearable you decided to ignore it, opening the kitchen door finding everyone awake at the table, except Sanji who was cooking breakfast for everyone. You wished everyone good morning and sat down between Nami and little Chopper, who looked tired.

The little doctor wasn't good with high temperatures either, just like you, so you figured that was the reason for the younger's condition.

- Looks like the day will be super hot today.- Nami commented, the redhead was dressed in some shorts and bikini top. You let out a despondent sound at her comment.- Yeah, Y/N, Chopper, how are you guys doing?

- I think I can handle it, but I wouldn't feel at all like skipping my daily workout.- discouraged at the thought that you would probably have to, you let out a sigh. You didn't mind the mild weather, the spring heat or a little early summer heat, but the one that was going on was already starting to bother you.

- I'll stay near the aquarium and study the books I got from the last island we were on, it's always a bit cooler there.- the little reindeer replied taking his glass of juice enjoying the coolness in his hooves.

- Thank you Sanji-san.- you thanked the blonde who had just put a glass of orange juice with ice in front of you. Soon the cook replied with a smile and the typical hearts in his eyes.

- All for you, Y/N- Swaaan~ !- you smiled taking a sip of the fresh juice, starting to eat the rest of your breakfast, before your raven-haired captain decided to steal yours, as he had already done with poor Usopp who was already arguing with him.

Despite all the hustle and bustle, you loved how lively the meals or any time with the Straw Hats crew were, you smiled to yourself at the thought of it but soon got up from the table as you felt your headache getting a little stronger.

Immediately you noticed that a certain swordsman had already left the kitchen, you decided to go look for him and that you would keep him company, if he was taking his usual nap in the shade.

As soon as you leave the kitchen you are greeted by the strong heat and light that the sun emanated, after muttering an "unbearable heat" between your teeth, you went in the direction of one of the trees of Thousand Sunny, where you heard, with your keen hearing, a light breathing, as you approached you found the greenhead leaning against it with his eyes closed, he opened one of his brown eyes as soon as you approached.

- Hi Zoro. - you gave a smile to the older one - Can I keep you company? - he replied with a lazy "hmmhmm" and with a small smile he nodded at the same time.

You and Zoro got along well, you talked and trained together, you were friends, which made you wonder when he started to affect you in another way, despite the sea of feelings that he caused you, you denied it and thought you were capable of not denouncing yourself to the biggest, you thought...

You lay in the shade next to the swordsman, face up on the wooden floor and prepared to close your eyes but the taller one spoke.

- You can use my leg as a pillow if you want, Y/N. - he stretched his legs out and crossed them at length, you could feel your cheeks heat up at the proposal, but you took the opportunity.

- T-Thank you.- you spoke placing your head on the older's lap, using his thigh as a pillow.

You couldn't not look at his face, the same one had already closed his eyes again, you kept watching the greenish one's peaceful face thinking that he had already fallen asleep. What you didn't know was that the swordsman was still awake, pretending to sleep, and he could feel your gaze on him with small warmth on his cheeks. As soon as you became aware of what you were doing you turned to the other side, trying to rest.

Despite all the noise, and the shouting of your captain playing with Usopp, and your headache that had increased, you eventually fell asleep.

You woke up feeling considerably worse than before, the headache was now unbearable and plus the heat made you feel like your body was hotter than the inside of a switched on oven. But you only opened your eyes when you felt watched.

Zoro watched your peaceful face as you slept, more so because he hadn't noticed when but your ears and tail had appeared. You rarely left them 'out' except when you used the powers of your Fruit, mostly in combat or occasionally in training, so he couldn't help but stare. Greenish was surprised when the thought of you being cute, especially with your face so peaceful and your white ears stained, crossed his mind, but soon his gaze changed to worried when you made an expression like you were in pain, seconds later you opened your eyes turning to the same, he disguised that he was still asleep.

Your head felt heavy and your body so hot it felt like it was going to explode, you couldn't remember when was the last time you had felt this bad. You got up slowly, on account of feeling dizzy but specifically so as not to wake the sleeping swordsman, going slowly to the kitchen avoiding your captain and the crew gunner, who were playing catch, so as not to involve you in their game.

You opened the door to the kitchen finding a blond man busy with something on the countertop, you sat down at the table, laying your head on it then watching Sunny's cook work. It was starting to get more than unbearable but you didn't want to disturb little Chopper who couldn't be much better either.

- Hey, Luffy! I already told you that you have to wait for lunch!- Sanji said, already a little tired of the visits of the hungry captain, turned towards you and immediately froze when he noticed that besides being you, he noticed your fluffy ears that moved in confusion.

- Sorry to bother you, especially while you're working, Sanji. - you rushed to apologize to the tallest.

- No, you're no bother at all, Y/N-Swaan~.- he quickly returned to his normal Sanji self. - Did I mention how cute you look like that?! - he approached you with one of his little dances and hearts in his eyes, you didn't think much of the womanizer's comment and just gave him a weak smile, which he quickly noticed by getting serious.- Are you alright, Y/N-chan?

- Just a little tired from the heat. - you lied. - Could you make me something cold? Please? - you asked, laying your head back on the table.

- Sure, on my way~.- he turned to prepare something for you.

After a short while, the blond man placed with a smile a bowl full of your favourite ice cream in front of you, you thanked the tall one. - Maybe you should go see Chopper.- he commented, you denied it saying it was no big deal and attacked the ice cream making the most of the cool feeling it provided. Your tail wagged from side to side lightly while you ate the candy in front of you, the cook would look at you every now and then, looks that went unnoticed by you but not to the green haired swordsman that entered the kitchen.

Zoro soon received a look from Sanji which he ignored and walked over to the fridge, took his bottle of sake from there and sat down next to you.

You looked discreetly at the greenish, and as you do something white moves into your field of vision, you follow the movement with your gaze finding your tail.

"Wait...Tail?"-when did it appear, would you be so bad as to not hold the power of your Fruit?You thought gritting your teeth slightly hoping they wouldn't notice and tried, what you thought was, discreetly hiding your tail inside your t-shirt and bringing a hand to your head also trying to hide your ears in your hair (h/c). You felt your cheeks more than red, had Zoro seen you like this?

- They've been like this for a while now.- the swordsman commented sipping from his bottle, leaving you more clumsy.- You don't have to hide it.- You blushed slightly, taking your hand off your head and releasing your tail, trying not to wag it so much.

You hated it when you lost control of your Fruit, you felt weaker when it happened, plus you were a little embarrassed to walk around with your tail and your white spotted ears showing. You didn't want to look weak among them all, you were in a very strong crew and you didn't want to disappoint, or make him regret his choice, your captain who had chosen you with one of his companions to achieve his great dream, or disappoint your friends, or the swordsman you admired so much, you were also afraid of falling behind everyone.

In fact, despite all the self-esteem you showed in combat and when you used your powers, it only increased because of the snow leopard inside you, in this case because of your Devil Fruit. You had and always had little confidence in yourself, avoiding to show it.

Would you ever be able to save your friends and companions as they had saved you? You wanted to be strong enough to protect them and be enough for them.

"Am I enough for Zoro?"- the thought flashed through your mind, you shook your head trying to push it away and went back to your ice cream that was already starting to melt in the bowl.

You let out an energyless sigh as soon as you were done with the ice cream, the feeling of relief passed and the headaches and heat started to affect you again. It started to become difficult to keep your head up and you started having difficulty breathing because of how hot the air was, your breathing started to become heavy, rapid, because of the lack of air in your lungs that complained when the hot air came in and consequently failed.

You didn't want to worry the others so you struggled to keep your breathing as normal as possible, got up from the chair feeling a torture, which you ignored, and left the bowl on the sink, preparing to leave the kitchen and go to rest from it all alone in your room. Or that was your plan if you hadn't passed out when you got to the door.

With the shock, the two men present were slow to realise what had happened, but soon Zoro immediately went towards you realising that you had fainted.

- Y/N!- Sanji and the greenish one called your name. Zoro picked you up carefully, trying to wake you up. - Go get Chopper, EroCook! -the swordsman shouted, practically ordered, to the blond who ignored his tone and worried about you ran around the ship looking for the doctor.

Zoro felt that he had never felt so worried as he did now, and your face told him that you were in pain even though you were unconscious. The older put a hand to your forehead and immediately noticed that you were running a fever, he cursed himself for not noticing sooner that you were not well and took you better in his arms and leading you to the little reindeer's office.

As soon as he laid you down on the bed, Chopper ran into the infirmary screaming for you not to die and Zoro had to tell him that he was the doctor until the worried reindeer realised and started rushing to check your condition. The little doctor took your temperature, he had another panic attack when he saw that it was too high, worrying him even more, he immediately started shouting for a doctor again until this time he realised by himself that it was him.

Realising that the doctor was already serious as he walked around you working, the greenish one prepared to leave your side and let the reindeer work in peace. But as soon as he turned around something grabbed his hand lightly, he looked at you, still unconscious, despite that you wouldn't let go of his larger hand.

After seeing such a cute gesture coming from you, he had no choice, even if it had been unconsciously. He pulled up a chair and sat down next to you still holding your boiling hand.

Chopper continued to treat you, placing a towel soaked in ice water on your forehead trying to lower your temperature and then headed over to start making medicine for you.

You had been sick because of the excessive heat and because you hadn't listened to your body. The reindeer had confirmed that it was nothing out of the ordinary and that as soon as your body cooled down you would at least wake up.

The little doctor could not help but laugh, discreetly , at the concern, exaggerated even, of the swordsman and of you who refused to let go of his hand even though you were unconscious.

You felt a little better and easier to breathe as you started to wake up, you also felt weight on your left side of the bed, plus something pleasantly cool and wet on your forehead. You opened your eyes lost, you didn't remember going to your room, you remembered going but not getting there.

You observed where you were, it took a while on account of you having just woken up, but eventually you recognised Chopper's doctor's office and the weight on your left side was the head of a certain greenish person who seemed to be asleep.

"How long have I been here?" "Or is he here?"- you wondered mentally, watching him you noticed that you couldn't move your left hand, seeing that it was being held by the big hand of the older one. Your heart raced, that feeling and the feeling of butterflies in your stomach became stronger, you pouted as you noticed the feeling.

"This is your fault, you idiot!"- you sighed as you reminded yourself that you couldn't feel this way. You brought your free hand to the larger man's grass-coloured hair, resisting no longer, and stroking them lightly, not failing to notice that they were incredibly soft.

The older moved turning his head towards you, opening his brown eyes, you immediately stopped, taking your hand out of his hair.

- Sorry.- your voice came out weak because of your state, the bigger one didn't look angry but his serious and tired look caught you unnoticed, you blushed more and although you didn't realise it, so did the greenish one.

- Finally, you woke up.- he spoke, for a moment you thought he was messing with you as the same always did, but you could see his serious worried face and not the typical swordsman's sideways smile.

Your heart skipped a beat. - Sorry to have worried you.- your ears lowered against your head. - How much time has passed?- you could tell it was late.- What happened?

- You fainted when you were leaving the kitchen, I brought you here.- you tried not to think that you were in his arms, but to no avail. - It must have been about nine hours.- he spoke. - Why didn't you tell anyone that you felt bad?- his tone became serious, you lowered your ears more and your tail stopped moving, Zoro noticed that. He had realised that your ears and tail were more expressive and honest than you.- And don't answer that it was nothing , because nothing wouldn't lead you to the state you were in!- he stopped as he noticed the tone in which he was beginning to speak. - I'm sorry, I...- he didn't finish the sentence verbally,- "I was worried." - he mentally completed it. - Why didn't you say anything to me? You were with me the whole time.- he asked calmer.

You had never seen him like that, so you gathered your courage and decided to tell him why you hadn't said anything.

- I'm sorry. - you started by apologizing once again and mentally cursing yourself for your voice failing. - I didn't want you to worry ... or for you to think I'm weak. - You lowered your head, trying to hold back the tears that were forming in your eyes, he couldn't watch you cry. The greenish one didn't say anything, you rushed to try to explain yourself. - I know I'm not, and never will be as strong as all of you but I wanted to. - you stopped talking when you felt a hand on your head and you couldn't hold back the tears any longer, you didn't gather the courage to look at the older one so you kept your head down.

- Y/N. - You shuddered to hear your name leave his lips. And your head started racing a thousand times, was he going to say yes you were too weak or something like that? But you were surprised at the words that came out of his mouth, even though you already knew, you just needed someone to say them for you. - You're not weak for getting sick, you're human, regardless of whether you're a Devil Fruit user. Even Luffy gets sick! Even ... me. - he said low the last as if he didn't want to admit it, you smiled lightly, you looked at him wiping your tears, he had looked away and his cheeks were flushed lightly.

- You are quite strong, Y/N, even if heat is your weakness. - he added, you gave him a smile and the swordsman could feel his heart skip a beat.

- Thank you, Zoro. - You smiled even more at him, but the tears continued, the hand that he had brought to your head came down to your cheek and gently with his thumb wiped your tears. You looked into the swordsman's eyes, you had to regain the courage to do so, and his gaze crossed yours (e/c) and so you stayed for a few minutes while you calmed down.

- I'm sorry, again, and thank you. - you whispered to him, not wanting that moment to end.

- Don't apologize anymore.- he spoke without breaking eye contact, you didn't know how long you were going to endure under the intense gaze of the greenish one, your face was red and the same one could see that.

- Sorry...- you asked for apologising too much, then biting your lip for apologising again.

Before you could say anything else, the larger man's lips were glued to yours, surprise it took you a while to realise what was happening, but you soon reciprocated before he pulled away, the kiss became passionate, you clung to the swordsman's shirt, putting all your feelings for him into that kiss responding to the greenish one.

You pulled away because of the damn breathlessness, you kept holding on to the older one and his hand went down to the back of your neck and before you could look away or hide, he pulled you in for another more intense kiss, this one shorter than the previous one because of the breathlessness you hadn't recovered yet.

A few tears escaped your eyes again, startling the swordsman for seconds before you threw yourself at him, hugging him and hiding your face red as a tomato on the bigger man's shoulder, he returned the hug by encircling your waist with his strong arms. Your tail wagged from side to side and the bigger one noticed how hot you still were.

- Hey, Z-Zoro. - you called softly, not wanting to leave his arms. Your face warmed even more, if possible, at what you were about to admit to him. And your heart was jumping like crazy, you were a little afraid that the older man might hear it, just as you could hear his racing heart, which made you smile against his neck.

- Hmm? - he asked showing that he was listening to you.

- I love you. - You whispered, but it was enough for the green one to hear and smile slightly blushing, but when he was about to answer he noticed that you had fallen asleep in his arms, he laughed lightly and whispered very softly to your ear that moved in response.

- I love you too, Y/N. - As he said this, he enjoyed the feeling of having you in his arms a little more, blushing all the way to the tips of his ears, and he lay you down on the bed, with a little difficulty because you clung to him as if your life depended on it.

You clung to him for fear that it was only a dream or that the greenish one would change his mind. Little did you know that the swordsman would never do such a thing because he already had feelings for you from the moment you joined the Straw Hats' crew.

#zoro roronoa x reader #zoro x reader #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #zoro x you #one piece #one piece oneshot #roronoa zoro #roronoa x you

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nothingofvaluewaslost · 11 months

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STORY: Slabbed Maris

Low-key science fiction/horror? Maris is a young distance runner. Out celebrating her first big win, she is approached by a man who has a rather unsettling business offer.

If you enjoyed it, feel free to visit my Patreon.

Slabbed Maris, by Christina Nordlander

Maris stepped outside in the stadium and felt the world narrow. The detox, hours of looking down into the toilet bowl, dad’s still upturned face in the hospital ward, all sunk to some lower streak of her mind where she didn’t have to focus on it. The process was slow enough that she could feel it happen.

During her last balancing steps to the track, she diagnosed herself, let her sensations flicker up and down the steel web of nerves. She wasn’t twenty any more – heavier, more swollen with muscle – but her lungs were as deep, the tendons in her calves and knees as hard.

The world moved in blinding jolts. Now she was on one knee, her sole against the textured pedal. The Bosnian was at the block in front, to the right. She was just a pale-skinned back and a lowered head, but she was close enough that Maris could smell her skin, almost close enough that she could feel her pulse beat in her own flesh. The rubber surface under her palms must have been rolled out in sections. If she’d had time, she could have studied it to find the point where the pattern started repeating. Tree canopies rocked above the bleachers, heavy and dark with leafage.

She never looked up at the crowd when she was in the stadium, and she wouldn’t do it today. There was no reason for them to send the one she’d recognise. Even if they weren’t present, it made no difference.

Time was extenuated. The moment that had been right before her when she knelt in the starting-block felt more distant with every breath, until some part of her started to believe that it wouldn’t come.

Now.

The moment she heard the shot she exploded from the block, knees pistoning, the burning air shooting in and out of her lungs. The Kenyan was in the lead to the left, but the space between them didn’t seem to be increasing. Yes, Maris was gaining on her.

It had been after her first big win: the European Championship, eight hundred metres, when she’d been barely more than a girl. Victoria had thought it was a good idea to celebrate with a club night: heavy food, air spiked with alcohol, a venue of glass and neon, music that pulsed on her eardrums. She could hardly say no when she was the woman of the hour. Everything except the volume was bearable.

She kept close to the wall, a single sheet of glass. They were eight floors up, the street was a ravine where blurry darkness had started to rise. Here it was possible to imagine that you were in a faerie forest of crystal spires, and had perhaps started to detach from the Earth.

Mum’s and dad’s warm arms hugged her. Dad’s tan suit had already got wrinkled, he’d found the drinks and probably new friends already. Mum had straightened hair and a cucumber sandwich in her hand. Maris smelled the cucumber. She didn’t even look thirty.

They congratulated her, and the intoxication got nourishment for a little while longer. It felt like she’d already started to distance herself from the Maris who’d knelt on the red pitch beneath the golden sky.

“We are friends, right?” mum said when she came back with a glass of water for her.

“Uh?”

It felt like it took a long time for the memory to return. It had been the last time she’d left their house in Peetri.

“Oh, you mean that...”

Mum raised her hand to her smooth cheek. After the operation, she’d shown them photos from the clinic, where her face had been covered with something that looked like creased cling film.

There was nothing there to see, all scars had floated beneath the surface.

“Mum, I was never angry, was I?” Maris said. “I just didn’t think you need to make yourself younger.”

Mum squeezed her in a hug. When they let go, she said:

“I know you just want what’s best for me, honey. But if there were an operation that made people faster, you’d be singing a different tune.”

After a moment, Maris said:

“I guess you’re right. I give.”

Mum laughed, slapping her back.

“Someone has to beat you today!”

A while later she went to take a seat with dad, and Victoria came back, a slim drink in her hand.

“Not to worry you,” she said, her voice low, “but there’s a guy creeping on you.”

She gestured towards the darkness of bodies in the club’s interior. Points of light sparkled on her rough nail polish.

“Sure it’s on me?” Maris said. “My mother was here a while back.”

Victoria sniffed. “Seriously, Maris. You want me to have a talk with him?”

“Depends. Is he good-looking?”

It wasn’t all a joke. All her instincts were running on all cylinders after the race, including those. It was many months since she’d seen Kris go out to his car in their drive. She wasn’t getting him back.

Victoria clicked her tongue. Maris followed her gesture. She got a couple of steps closer to be able to see. The low light had made her eyes water.

The guy was sitting on a neon green couch without a backrest. If he had a drink she couldn’t see it. He didn’t look many years older than she, indifferent looks. Victoria was right, he was creeping. “Undressing me with his eyes,” a forgotten classmate had said, and Maris had had a hard time picturing it, how to tell one kind of look from another. This guy was studying her as if he were rotating her body parts before his eyes, one at a time, and knew exactly what to use them for.

She raised her hand in Victoria’s direction, an averting motion, and took a couple of steps across the floor. The ones sitting with him might have been his group or strangers, she didn’t have time to care.

“Do you want anything from me?” she said in English. “You’ve been staring at me for a while.”

Maybe her voice sounded harsher to him. Her movements were as forceful as in the stadium, but she had no experience of this type of situation.

The man lit up, as if his gaze had been just a way to attract her attention.

“I have an offer that I think may be of interest to you, Ms. Burale,” he said, putting one hand in the upholstery. “It is something we’ll have to discuss in private.”

“You realise why I’m not able to do that.”

The guy grinned, as if to show that he wasn’t a threat.

“You can bring a chaperone,” he said. “Or, it’s steroids you’re worried about, isn’t it? Ask your promoter.”

Maris went back to Victoria. She’d expected her to say no – “chaperone” was an old-fashioned concept, out of place here in the aquarium-lit club – but Victoria inclined her blond head.

“If you want to speak to him,” was all she said.

A black-clad staff member went with them to unlock a conference room. Maris followed behind the guy. Behind her, she heard Victoria’s heels, bright on the wood tiles, how they sank to muted thuds on the carpet.

The staffer let them in and left them. White walls, a shiny table and chairs that enclosed you. In her memory, it felt like the circuit of light hadn’t reached all the way to the walls. She had to stop herself from gripping the chair arms and pushing up a couple of times. “You just won the Championship,” Victoria had said when she’d complained about missing training. “Tonight you can take it easy, surely?”

They sat with their backs to the door and the guy facing them. With his smooth black hair and the skin colour that might have been called “olive,” he looked like he might have been from many places on the globe. He wore a dull dark blazer with the mint-green logo of a company, and he’d put a cardboard folder on the table, without looking at it.

Maris waited, but Victoria was silent. She was the one who had to start:

“So what did you want?”

“Ms. Burale,” the guy said, “I want to buy your body.”

Victoria gave a hiss and Maris put her fists on the table.

“That was a joke,” she said. “Not a particularly funny one, either. How about you get to the point, why we’re here?”

The guy leaned closer.

“Have you heard of slabbing?” he said.

The only thing she could imagine in this context was a slang term for some sex act. That wasn’t it. She shook her head, her flat-top swaying a little beneath the draught.

“Not surprising, it’s still a new process,” the guy said. “There is no reason for you to have heard of it, unless you were interested. My group purchases bodies. We contact individuals who interest our line of customers, aesthetically, and pay them what they want, in return for them bequeathing their physical remains to us.”

He smiled, making a little gesture towards his folder as if to open it.

“The bodies are washed, internally and externally. Any cavities are filled... like in embalming. Then, each body is placed in a tank that is filled with liquid polyethylene. Clear polyethylene. As soon as the plastic has cured, it is preserved. The block is placed in a casing of a more durable polymer, for protection. I can describe the process in more detail, if you wish. If you’re interested, certainly.”

Then it was just paperweights with a 3D engraving inside the block. Or amber lumps with insects, sleeping in slow light.

“And then, do you sell them?” she said.

He nodded.

“To whom? Rich giants who need a paperweight?”

He laughed, maybe mostly to acknowledge that it was a joke.

“Private buyers make up the greatest part of our turnover. But we also have a fair number of buyers from exhibitions, non-profits... you do realise, we don’t buy your old granddad with bingo-wings and an enlarged prostate. Of course he’s no worse as a human being, but... millions live happily, with bodies that do everything that’s required of them, without being of interest to us. Whereas your body... after all, we saw today what it can do.”

He leant forward again. His eyes were on her with their moist shine.

“1:57:01. Women’s European champion at... twenty? And it’s not just about your physical capacity, even if that’s why we’re here. You’re straight, long-limbed, hard-bodied. Firm caramel skin, impressive hair. You turn running into an art.”

Maris looked ahead, waiting for him to finish. Normal compliments she could have handled, maybe. Victoria rocked her chair with a little creak, as if to remind her that she was there.

“I’ve got photos,” he said, “if you want to see the result.”

Maris put out her hand and pulled it back before he had time to give her the folder. A moment later she’d changed her mind, but it was too late to say anything. She glanced at Victoria, in case she might ask for it, but instead she said:

“Are you all right, Maris? We’ll leave whenever you want.”

“I’m all right.”

She turned her gaze towards him again:

“They’re dead. I’ve never seen a corpse.”

She’d intended it to sound self-ironic, but maybe he just heard how pathetic she was. (She must have seen corpses in the news or in photographs, city squares after bombings. How could this feel different?)

He sat quiet.

“Do you pay people up front, or their next of kin?”

It sounded rational.

“Everyone chooses whether to take the payment or give it to their family,” he replied. “Or a part of each.”

“What kind of price are we talking about?”

“The price is negotiable,” the guy said. “We can start with... twenty billion euros. Do you want to go higher?”

For a moment she sat almost impassive. It was as if her brain could grasp “twenty” and “billion,” but not both at the same time.

The guy focused on her.

“Are you interested?” he said.

“Yes, I am interested.” Her voice grew stronger. “I need to speak to my family... if my parents don’t like it, I might change my mind. But so much money for what you do with my corpse after I’m dead? I won’t be using it then!”

She was still a little removed from reality. She didn’t need billions, not now that running was her day job.

“There’s one more thing,” the guy said.

His voice wasn’t loud, but something in his tone grabbed her and silenced her.

“We’re interested in your body as long as it’s at its peak. We’re not interested in how it’s going to look when you’re eighty. Think for yourself, you must have read the statistics. You might still be running when you’re forty... but you’re not going to be in a state to compete any more, are you? Even a few years from now, you will have to upgrade to longer distances, if you want to stay competitive.”

“Where are you going with this?” Victoria interrupted.

But something in her voice was troubled.

“Those who accept our offer get slabbed in the prime of their life,” the guy said. “Yes, it shortens your natural lifespan by many decades. We have never lied about that.”

“So you kill people,” Maris said. “How do you get anyone to agree to it?”

He laid his hands on the table, palms upward.

“If we were immortal, I would never make this proposal. But no matter what we do, we can’t choose to live for ever, can we?”

He flashed a smile, a magician performing his pièce de résistance. The runners of Victoria’s chair scraped against the floor.

“Maris, we can leave if you want,” she said loudly.

“You can leave if you want,” Maris replied.

She’d started feeling the cold of incipient nausea in her fingertips, but you couldn’t hear it from her voice. If she’d left, he would have taken it as fear. Instead, she met his gaze, like one blade against another. It was a childish defiance.

“How do you kill them?” she asked.

It felt brutal. “Euthanise” wasn’t right, they weren’t ill.

“Morphine, several times a lethal dose,” the guy replied. “I was given morphine once, when I fell with my dirt bike as a teen. It’s the best death you could hope for.”

“I’m not gonna lie,” Victoria said into the silence, “I think you’re bluffing. When people have received your payment, what is stopping them from running away?”

“As soon as the subject has signed the contract,” he said, “if they want the payment for themselves, they get to move to one of our resorts. There they get to stay and enjoy their money... restaurants, beaches, until... well. It’s as luxurious as you could ask.”

He opened the folder, turning it towards them. He hadn’t wanted to show them the bodies, but he showed them the resort. She saw white walls of stone that looked cast in one piece, the blue infinity symbol of a pool. All photos were too distant and angled to see any humans. They might have been from a travel brochure. Perhaps that was where he’d found them.

Silence took over. The guy let the folder drop, but she didn’t hear it.

“What profit do you make from it?” she asked. “Are people prepared to pay so much for one?”

The guy nodded several times.

“Ms. Burale,” he said. “As an athlete, why do you think we non-athletes are so fixated on you? Take me: I don’t think I’ve run a mile in my adult life. Think about the billions that will be spent this year on football alone. Those are greater sums than the ones my company turn over.”

“It’s aesthetically enjoyable, isn’t it?” Maris said. “The strength and beauty of the human body... the same reasons you watch ballet.”

He hadn’t given her time to shape her thoughts. The guy swiped his hand sideways, not a yes or a no.

“You’re a sin-offering for the rest of us,” he said. “You show that strength in the exertion, you press yourselves to breaking-point while we’re sat in the couch with a bag of crisps. That’s the perfection we want to preserve, so that future generations also can strive for it.”

Silence flooded the room. It made Maris draw a breath and move her fingers to make sure that she still could.

She looked at Victoria. The promoter’s pink and glitter-blue face jolted, as if her look had been a touch. She collected herself.

“It’s your choice,” she said with a pale little smile. “You’re a grown woman.”

Maris turned her gaze forward.

“I just want your interest, or lack thereof,” the guy said. “It’s not final until we come and get you. That is also why many choose to bequeath the payment to their family, to retain the option....” His gaze slid into hers. His eyes were grey, normal. “But I can’t persuade you to choose either.”

“People agree to it,” Maris said after a moment.

He hadn’t said how long you could stay at their home before they harvested you. It couldn’t be many years; they wanted you at your peak. In the photos she’d seen pools, the chromed tubes of gyms.

She sucked in air and spoke again:

“What makes them do it?”

The guy reached out his hand. It fell slack on the table. (If mum and dad had been struggling for money, if any of them had needed some expensive treatment, wouldn’t it have been her duty to do it?)

“The same thing that you must have asked yourself a few times,” he replied. “What will they do when they see the decline up ahead?”

Maris got up. The movement made her chair clatter. He peered up at her.

“Is that a no, Ms. Burale?” he said.

“It’s a maybe. I need to consider.”

Her voice sounded distant in her ears.

They were heading back to the club. Victoria’s heels ticked in front of her. The man was just behind the edge of her vision, so that she only felt that he was there. If she didn’t say anything, he’d think it was from cowardice.

“And what do you gain from it?” she said out loud. “Do you get some kind of bonus for each new athlete?”

She knew that he smiled, a strip of smile that changed the light level a fraction.

“I like it,” he said.

1,500 metres. The world had shrunk to a layer of heat on her skin. She couldn’t remember a world without the shadowless sunlight or the thunder of feet. The sky above the stands was one field of gold. There was pain, too, during the last lap, but all the others were so far behind, she couldn’t hear them.

Maybe not today either.

THE END

#fiction #horror #sports horror #corpse artwork #sports

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keefwho · 2 months

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March 18 - 2024 Monday

11:02pm

6.5/10

This morning, partly agitated by having to wait for my hot water, I didn't do much cleaning. I just waited until I had enough to shower. It had to be another quick one. For breakfast I made a grilled cheese and soup in the box. I did a little reading on the subject of ACT Therapy thought defusion since thats what monday is about so I intended to keep it in mind today. I also watched a Minecraft stream.

During work I warmed up with more torso/leg studies. Then I worked on the Venus comic commission for the 2 hours. We watched pretty good episodes of Uncle Grandpa and Ed. Quite a few people showed up today capping out at 10. Most weren't chatting though.

After work I did my 4 mile jog and situps. I watched a bit of the Chris Chan documentary during that since I'm trying to finish it. I'm on episode 77/85. Itll be a few weeks if I only watch it while I work out. I took another quick shower and then made rice stir fry again for lunch. This time I tried it with chicken stock and canned chicken and it was great. I have a new meal to add to my chef portfolio. While cooking and eating I joined BR's server and watched hoarders with them. I left to do my afternoon work.

I had Twitch on the side while I did today's request and finished a drawing of Adora. While working on PL's VRchat world, I tried hanging out in DV's server but they were just playing Helldivers so all I got was game chatter. When I was done working I left to chill for a bit with a stream. DS wanted to Just Dance so we did that and I think I did pretty good today. She picked songs that I was bad at in the past but I think I'm getting the hang of figuring out what kind of movements the game wants.

Afterwards I had to get ready for my late therapy appointment which was cancelled because he didn't account for daylight savings time since he's in Australia so I sort of wasted 30 minutes. After that I waited for DS to get in bed. We did our puzzles, read 2 Melody and 1 Frankie chapter from the Monster High book, and I played Kingdom Hearts. We talked about body shaming and how bad of an impact media like Monster High can have on young and impressionable people.

~~~

Today was normal. I tried to maintain a connection to my art throughout work and mostly succeeded. I try to remember that the things I choose to do serve an important purpose which is what makes them bearable if I can keep in touch with that sentiment. In the afternoon I started feeling sort of lonely? Or moreso just bleh, not a good feeling. I made plans with JR this weekend to either go on a hike or go to the Hungry Bear so that'll be good for me. I had looked forward to playing the My Little Pony game more today but didn't find the time.

3 things I liked about today:

Chicken stir fry.

Just Dance with DS.

Monster High reading with DS.

#journal #diary

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starvette · 11 months

Text

T 16/90 || 1

I woke up at two at night and it was over. The cookie and cake idea crept back into my mind. I finished up what little molten sorbet I'd left by my bedside last night. No new cramps. Wondered if they were really caused by that damned meat.

Today starts the second half of 2023 so how could I possibly ruin this for myself? At four, I got my bike and bag without wallet in it and rode to the 24/7 store. Saw another imprisoned cat in the flat above grandma's. I had no idea. Unfortunately I found a sexy looking expensive giant box of tiramisu. I swore off eating anything bad ever again because this mindfuck is just no longer bearable and I keep arriving at this same conclusion over and over again. Then I got the cake and another tiny 110 gram cheesecake. The plan was to eat them with coffee while enjoying the newest Kurzgesagt production. I took a picture of my last unmeal and got started. Right away, the video blew me away and I cursed myself for having such a tiny chicken brain and living for cheesecake. Suddenly it was easy to stop eating. I left a third of both cakes uneaten. They were both mid as hell, by the way. Later I got a little hungry again and did eat the last third of the tiramisu. So it was a lot. But that's over now. I'm good now. It's scary at times but it's over, and it's been a long fucking time coming. They won't haunt me anymore.

It was a hot overcast morning. I checked on neighbors (grandma had a guest over, looney was off to P for some important business), did some chores, browsed some mostly hot air stuff (media of current it girls eating junk food) until my about 3 hours of sleep last night caught up with me and I crashed. The police had released some grainy pictures of the guys who beat that lady up for no fucking reason. Their gang even had a girl in it.

Woke up at five. Sunbathed. Had a new cursed craving of some sort of chocolatey brownie cake with coffee. If I just eat that today it will still kind of count as yesterday like with the tiramisu at 5 in the morning, and therefore I won't have fucked up? That's how that works, right? Thank God, I remembered that brownies specifically have a fuckton of healthy vegan keto schmeto versions online that aren't very complicated. Relaxed and put that out of my mind. Rewarded myself with expensive luxury raw organic health ginger cookies. Bless up. Saw M in the center with some girlfriends right when I'd finally convinced myself that this tiny town really is full of strangers and not all just people I know. I'm pretty certain she didn't see me. Whew. It would be just a little too awkward to say hi. Got La Molazza olive oil on sale at eco store. Right now my EVOO strat is to just close my eyes and pick one. I feel so vulnerable when I buy olive oil. Ran around shops looking for tuna. They only had the wrong kind. It tasted inferior. Still no UVmune. Finished my day at the pharmacy. Paid 6 euros total for 15 grams of tretinoin. I just cannot believe those prices. They are beautiful. And then...as I was packing my bag to leave I heard the guy who'd stood in line behind me ask for his minoxidil. I should've asked him, but I'm a slow thinker and shy, and so I just left hoping that I didn't just make the biggest mistake of my life. What if this was Universe finally lending me a helping hand and this is how I show my appreciation? I just biked home thinking about all the positive fin studies I'd read and other ways to meet guys like him again. Looney neighbor had won 300 euros gambling. He had the cash in hand and told me he'd asked people to go celebrate with him at a restaurant or something but nobody had wanted to go. He asked me again what my name was. I told him the same as his daughter's hoping that will help him remember. I congratulated him and went home. He helped me get my bike in. I said thanks. He said no, thank you for listening to me.

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lorei-writes · 1 year

Note

For the fic writer asks: 🎈💞🪄🦋

!!! My, my, today is full of treats for me!

From future Lorei: ... How come that it tends up being a long post when it's your ask? Hahaha.

🎈describe your style as a writer; is it fixed? does it change?

I don't think I can answer that with full certainty. Only I sit inside of my head, and so what I consider to be the case, and what others perceive it as can be two completely different things. (It happened more than once).

If I were to attempt to look for a 'me-fic' indicators regardless... For one thing, my native language bleeds sometimes into how I structure my sentences. I'd say it's typical for me to gravitate towards more compressed forms.

All the other things that come to mind would fall more so into "attempted" category. One of them would be being fairly deliberate sentence length choices for invoking certain effects, but... It was attempted. Whether it translated into any reaction, I don't know.

💞what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language

Authenticity. I don't generally care much about the embellishments. I think words should not stand in the way of reading experience, but also that words exist for the story, not the other way around.

But, those are plenty words, and very few explanations. To preface what I'm about to say, I don't think it is even something that is always applicable. It is just something that I find particularly interesting to look for, and value a lot whenever I'm even in the position that allows me to notice it.

So. Explanations. First, I do not read a lot of fanfic. If I do read it, it is probably on Tumblr, and I most likely follow you, or you're my friend. I may have some idea on who you may be, on what you value, what you find pleasure in writing. Of course, it is the case with only some people I know.

And damn, it is the best thing in the world when I read something, and I can tell a person cared. That it's so typically them, so true to what they've showed me about themselves, that I can see them on the other side of it.

This may not be directly what this question is about, but... Well. How do I put this? We sometimes take requests. Sometimes we write characters we're not that passionate about. There is nothing wrong about that, of course... But I did see it taken to extreme, to the point when I even wondered why the person bothered writing if it brought them no joy. So if I can see the genuine care, love for the story, that's, that's what I'm after.

🪄what is your post-writing/sharing aftercare? How do you take care of yourself or celebrate yourself when you've finished a fic?

I don't have any! Finishing it is a reward in and of itself :) Although sometimes I read it aloud to myself. Partially to see whether it doesn't need to be edited a little more, partially to put stress wherever its due, to see if the rhythm holds up.

🦋what are you most insecure about when you post a fic?

Sometimes I feel bad about not being particularly successful or popular, but when I look at this closer... I don't even know who is popular, nor what would define a success or a failure. I fear not being enough, but I don't even know what is enough.

But at the same time, it's... Not really about any of this. Those thoughts generally appear only when I'm feeling down about the way my life is going. (Having to put off your studies due to health reasons once is bearable. Twice, if you add the fact that you will need to start over, this time with more limitations? While people your age start families, graduate, get jobs? That makes everything seem more gloomy than it really is).

Other than that... I suppose I sometimes feel insecure, because I don't know whether I'll reach the things I want to reach, and others don't seem to have that issue.

But then again, the stress should be put on "seem", and oh well. I will certainly not accomplish some things I want in this lifetime. It's pointless to attempt to fear something of the like, so I give myself a pat on the shoulder and move on.

Ask game

#answered #krys-loves-otome #ask game #long post

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copperbora · 1 year

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My Mom Officially Made it to February 2023! HUZZAH!

She just keeps beating the horrible doctor predictions regarding her survival.❤️ She's like the Secretariat of cancer patients.

Half a week into going on ADHD meds I don't really feel too much different - maybe slightly less helter-skelter mentally. (Honestly I can't believe that I only started them last Saturday because life just moves slower when you are a caretaker to a critically ill and beloved parent.) It's still early days with this medication but so far I have observed:

- Literally no more energy. These drugs are supposed to be a stimulant equal to four cups of coffee. Instead, I feel slightly sleepier, if anything. The first day I took them I passed out on the couch and slept until lunchtime. I don't even remember my visiting brother J leaving!

- The drugs make me slightly nauseous by the end of my work shift. I can deal with slightly nauseous.

- I'm still distracted as heck. Squirrel!

That being said I had a marvelous epiphany today that the reason why cleaning (at home*) is literal hell for me is because of the ADHD, which would much prefer literally any other activity. Thank goodness for distractions like Youtube, podcasts and audiobooks which make such tasks bearable for my crazy little miswired neurodivergent brain. Today I read in the textbook that I am studying, Taking Charge of Adult ADHD (by Russel A. Barkley PhD,) that we ADHDers are impulsive beings and that this is often what gets us into serious trouble (also our coon hound-like brains which want to identify EVERY SINGLE DISTRACTION.) Like speeding tickets, serious injury, and, well, you know - death. Looking around at the several questionably stupid purchases which I made last year (being a well paid courier would have been great for destroying my debt - had I not been afflicted with ADHD,) I can definitely see that, yeah, I really need to work on the impulse control. My itch to practice a bit of mild retail therapy definitely is not helped by:

- The fact that I grew up dirt poor. There was a couple of years where every supper featured plain rice. I'm only just recovering my liking for the stuff!

- The fact that up until recently all my jobs were retail and featured truly craptastic pay.

- The fact that I am stressed out of my mind from being a caretaker to a very sick loved adored parent.

Those are my excuses. I will master this so that I don't blurt them anymore; my future happiness needs it. (I'm thinking... letting myself have an allowance. A very small allowance. Like $20.)

I'm really damned grateful that I do live with my parents because if I didn't I'd probably be dead. Plus, I wouldn't get to look after my mom, and I wouldn't be able to work just part time.** Part time is at least paying my bills even if it isn't doing much to slay my college debt. Eventually, I tell myself, I will be able to move out and get a dog. And go on international adventures like finishing the Scottish National Trail. Eventually.

______________________________________

*I clean apartment buildings for a living. It's only doable with the magic of the previously mentioned interesting audio distractions.

**I'm glad it's only part time because I don't have enough energy for full time. Perhaps if it was less boring and I wasn't also a full time unpaid caretaker. (Except I am paid - in treats - which miraculously have not made me put on any holiday fat according to my weigh scale. Apparently trudging up and down apartment building stairwells is keeping that off.)

#cancer #adult adhd #coping with mental illness #living with adhd #adhd stuff

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miladyufo · 1 year

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My reflection on 2022 and my goals for the new year, for me to read again next December:

Art-wise I don't see a dramatic improvement like I did last year. Maybe it's because I was still learning the basics in 2021, or because I was trapped in a room alone with nothing to do but draw. That was certainly a mixed blessing and I'm glad I got to devote so much time to learning a skill. Although I wasn't unhappy, long-term it's not good for me mentally; I'm feeling so much better now that I can see my loved ones and go exist in physical spaces again. It's funny to still be drawing out the story I wrote in 2020 while I was very paranoid and discontent. Actually I don't think 2020 me was wrong about things at all but being able to sit outside with my friends and have a meal together makes everything more bearable.

Working on that comic forces me to go outside my comfort zone frequently. But it also leaves me with no time to do studies or practice other things. I think it would be a good idea to take a small hiatus (1-3 months) to build my buffer back up and then resume regular uploads with smaller chapters. For 2023 you — me, using second-person for a minute because I need to tell myself this— should aim to finish up to the night beach scene (future you/me knows what we're referring to). If you go beyond that, great, but you have permission to take a slower pace and leave the climax, denouement and special chapters for 2024 if you want. After the epilogue you can decide if you feel like going further. Hidden Facers has a cool ending (imo) so it's fine to stop there, but if you start the second part you probably want to do the third part too.

Anyway, I did a short NSFW comic about a werewolf this year. I'm happy with the results and it was refreshing and fun to make. Although I have no idea where it should be uploaded or shared. For 2023 I'm planning to make a comic of similar length about an orc.

My (failed) goal for 2022 was to be more active on social media. I made accounts here and there and found lots of great people to follow but I can't be moved to post much myself. Insta feels like it's full of bots and twitter makes me dizzy. Tumblr might be my favorite (I like reading long-form rants) but I haven't used it much. Tiktok would probably shred what's left of my brain but maybe that would be fun?

With regards to my career, living situation, relationship etc. things are no different than they were at the beginning of the year. I am grateful to have had a steady and peaceful year, even if not much happened. I know my own life will be very different by next year's end and I hope that it's for the better. Conditions in my country are getting worse and in some cases collapsing. I hope at least to be able to take care of myself and the ones around me.

Writing out these paragraphs took a while. My thoughts must be more disorganized than I realized. It's mostly just elevator music up here right now. I used to write all the time— maybe I should try to write something like this at least once a month or so for my own sake. Actually, it could just be that I skipped breakfast and lunch today and it's my third coffee on an empty stomach. Over the holidays it's been all chocolate and coffee. Even so, you should try writing more anyway. I mean, I should try.

2022 personal review: A-

#2022 #webcomic #Maybe I just need to check my iron levels

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atelophobicity · 2 years

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time, curious time

a part-time job is at its tail end today. i knew this would happen but i didn't want to acknowledge it for it to not become real. if i didn't act like my dad and my mom, i wouldn't have stuck myself in a job that's going to end inevitably soon. i wouldn't have told myself to look for greener pasture while also doing nothing to look for said greener pasture.

it's graduation yesterday. if i persevered through 2020 and not let my worst get the best of me, that would have been me with them. i would have closed that chapter of my life prettily. maybe i could have been working on a job that's related to the course that i've studied for 5 years. the alternate scenario is me going into the bpo industry, because the good money is there for people like me.

fourteen days before writing this post, my parents told upfront that i needed to secure their future for them too. and that threw me for a loop, because graduation season was up and coming that time, and i was facing the existential dread that comes with not being a failure in life.

seven days before writing this post, i was recovering. i still hate that my life is barely holding on to any sense of control but that was becoming bearable. i fooled myself into thinking that my existence exists in a vacuum, when that can't be farther from the truth when i'm the supposed breadwinner of an asian household in a third world country. that was on me on lulling myself to a false sense of security.

last weekend, i was looking forward to this week. because i was determined to break off the old habits. because i was resolute in settling paperwork and starting to find jobs that pay more. because i was hopeful that this week was going to be productive and i can turn things around, one step a time.

but today just had to happen, apparently.

the final straw. the straw that breaks the camel's back. the cherry on top. the final push to just sleep this day away.

i'd love to write on this that this is just a minor setback. that tomorrow, i'm going to be okay. that eventually, i'm going to be up and running soon. that today might not be my day, but tomorrow might be it for me.

i would love to. but then i'd be lying. and i've had enough of doing the universe any favors of pretending that i'm still okay enough to be here.

#2022 diary

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the-dendrophile-bookdragon · 2 years

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Hi. May I please request a fic of Charles Xavier x Sage (female mutant OC with botanical manipulation powers) who isn’t currently living in Xavier Mansion and is stuck in a stressful roommate situation that they feel trapped in and anxious/mildly depressed/emotionally drained from (I really need some comfort from Charles right now ☹️)?

A/N: Hey there. Here is another pick me up. Hope you are doing better! Enjoy!!!

Pairing: Charles Xavier x OC (Sage) Warning: shitty roommate, stress, fluff

Eyes Open

University was hard. Especially today. After she exited the lecture hall of her last lecture rain started to pour down on her. She thought the weather would hold till she was at home but luck wasn’t on her side at all. She missed the bus home and had to walk home in the rain. A car passed by and sprayed her with murky street water.

As she entered her flat she heard her roommate and other people laugh. People she wasn’t informed of. What are flatmate rules for? As her roommate spotted her, she wanted to slap her. “You reek Sage. Go shower! I don’t want my guests to smell your filthy botanic smell.” Sage only smiled and went into her room to get her toiletries.

The next thing testing sage’s breaking point were her flatmate and her guests being loud. Maybe even intentionally. After all she heard her roomier tell someone that she wanted Sage gone out of the flat. The problem her roommate forgets, Sage is the main tenant. The only thing Sage could do was back her bag and go down to Ms. Nox, their landlady. The older women caught Sage studying on the staircase and made the offer to let her study in her apartment. Since then every time her flatmate wasn’t respecting their rules about being loud and having guests over during finals week she would study at the old lady’s apartment.

She knocked three times on her landlady’s door before entering. Ms. Nox looked up from the stove and smiled, “Is she botherin’ again, deary. You should really throw her to the curb. I will even pay the money you can’t bring up as long as you can’t find a new roommate.” Sage smiled and nodded, “I will think about that offer.”

The next day you woke up with a fright. There was a bang, like an explosion coming from the kitchen. You ran out of your room and to the source of the noise. Sage’s roommate stood at the microwave when she came into the room. She had a surprised expression on her face. As she saw Sage’s furious face she smiled awkwardly, “Oops! Sorry! I didn’t want to wake you. It’s your free day, isn’t it?” Sage took a deep breath before straightening her posture and looking at her flatmate, “What the hell did you do?” Her roomie pointed at the smoking microwave before explaining to her what exactly happened.

With a clam but cold voice Sage pointed to the front door, “Pack your thinks and go! You have two hours. After I come home from work you and your things are gone.” Her roommate looked at her shocked before exploding into a fit of rage, “You can’t do that! You don’t own this flat! I’m going to the landlady!” Sage just smiled and nodded, wishing her good luck with their landlady.

Uni today was much more bearable. She wasn’t too bored out of her mind. One professor even shortened his lecture. Sage waited in the courtyard on a stone bench. She didn’t have to wait long before the person she waited sat next to her. She looked over and came face to face with the ocean blue eyes of Charles Xavier. “Hey, everything good?” Sage just shrugged, “Uni, yes. At home, hell no.” Charles had a questioning look on his face, “How so?”

Sage demeanour changed drastically. You could see the hidden rage in her usually calm eyes. The roses growing next to the bench slowly formed thorns. Charles panicked a little and reached for his friend, “Hey there, petal. You have to calm down. The roses are getting thorns.” Sage turned to the roses and what she did. Her eyes grew wide with panic. Charles reached out telepathically and calmed her mind. Sage looked into his eyes and smiled in thanks. “So what happened? Don’t let the poor thornless roses get thorns again.” The woman chuckled next to him, “My roommate blew up the microwave because she forgot to put away the tin foil. She broke all our agreements in one day and I had to pay her rent for this month again.” Sage huffed in annoyance, “Now I threw her out. But I can’t pay the full rent.”

As Sage looked over to Charles she saw him deep in thought. She nudged him to come back into reality. “What were you thinking Xavier?” The telepath looked over to his friend and smirked, “Move in with me and Raven. The only thing you have to do is cook once a week and do your assigned chores.” Sage was perplexed. “O-okay?! Yeah?! Yeah! I move in with you two.” Charles smiled.

One month later Sage was ready to move into the Xavier mansion. She had finished her degree as did Charles. Raven was up packing the kitchen while the other two heaved the boxes from her bedroom into the truck. Charles stood downstairs and waited for his friend when he saw her struggling with her boxes. He walked up to her and took the box out of her hand.

Both turned to the gasped as they heard Ms. Nox gush over both of them, “Oh such a nice gentleman. He is a keeper, deary. Nice partner you have there.” Heat crept into Sage and Charles face. Both looked into each other’s wide eyes. They were told a lot that they are a cute couple. Both always denied their feelings for each other. Charles shrugged, a big toothy smile forming on his lips, “What do you think? Everyone but us sees it. Maybe we should see it too?” Sage grinned at Charles, “Let’s open our eyes.”

Wanna stay updated? Click here

@andromacher @groovy-lady

#professor charles xavier x reader #charles xavier x you #charles xavier x reader #charles x reader #charles xavier #charles xavier imagine #charles xavier x oc

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messers-moony · 3 years

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Ignored | R.L

Paring: Young!Remus Lupin X Deaf!Fem!Reader

Summary: Remus thinks his Charms partner is ignoring him until she tells him something that changes his view of her.

He knew something was off about her. Remus knew something was off with her from the day she ignored him in Charms with no second thought. They were supposed to work together that day, but how could he when it seemed that every word he said went in one ear and out the other. It saddened him because, frankly, Remus really liked her. He thought she was stunning.

Not to mention she was very close friends with Lily, who spoke the world of her. But it seemed that Y/n never really talked. Lily and Y/n studied together frequently, but how often did they really talk? Thinking about it, Remus had never seen Y/n talk. Sirius always made her blush, and James even made her smile, but she never spoke. It was worrying.

Finally, Remus gathered the courage to poke her in Charms class, and Y/n turned to him with a confused expression on her face. The curious glint in her eyes didn’t go unnoticed by the scarred boy, and it almost made him melt on the spot. Y/n’s hair was slightly tousled, making him want to fix it for her. He was getting distracted, again.

“ We have a project to start today; it’s due in a month. When would you like to start? “ Remus asked, and Y/n turned to her quill.

Once again, she ignored him, or so he thought; then he was handed a piece of parchment, “ I’m deaf. “

“ Oh. “ He muttered; now he felt daft.

Remus gently took her hand in his and began tapping in Morse code, “ Do you know morse code? “

“ Yes. “ Y/n tapped back with a gleeful smile.

That smile was enough to turn him to mush. So this project would be more complicated than initially planned because they would have to write back and forth or tap back and forth. But they would get through it. They had to.

“ Library, after dinner? “ Remus tapped, “ Yep! “

Remus chuckled. Y/n wished she could hear it. He always looked so beautiful when he laughed—the way his green eyes slightly glazed with a gorgeous tint of clear coat. The sides of his sides would crinkle adorably. His lips turned up in a breathtaking smile. His hands felt soft when he tapped to her in Morse code. Was there anything this man couldn’t do?

The day went on quicker than expected. Remus sat with the Marauders at dinner and told them of his new phenomenon. Y/n sat with Lily at the end of the Gryffindor table, where they tapped to each other. Y/n even got to tell Lily all about the project she had to do with Remus. Lily even confessed her lingering feelings for the Potter boy, which Y/n smirked at.

After dinner, Y/n and Remus both made their way to the library. Y/n collected the books while Remus had taken a seat near the windows. A hidden spot in the corner of the library. He always saw her sit in this particular corner. So when she took notice of his observation, Y/n smiled happily.

They studied together and began their project on apparating and disapparating—a two-parchment essay on the dangers and the benefits of the particular charm. Remus was to do the risks, and Y/n was to do the benefits. They worked in silence and diligently. Remus’ love language was always quality time anyways.

The noise of a book shutting made Remus jump in his spot; then, he was handed a piece of ripped parchment, “ I’ve finished my part of the essay. “

“ Okay. “ Remus replied, and Y/n gave him a glorifying smile.

He watched as Y/n left the library. Remus tried to think of all the ways to possibly ask her out or take her on a date, but his brain was scattered. The full moon would be tomorrow, and his focus wasn’t great. Worries and insecurities filled his mind. So after another hour, he finished his part of the essay and walked back to the Marauders dorm.

The following day was sluggish. Remus felt extraordinarily tired. When he went to sit down at his Potions seat beside Lily, a chocolate bar was waiting there with a piece of parchment. Lily smiled cheekily while Remus stared in awe of his favorite chocolate. The boy sat down and picked up the piece of parchment, quickly recognizing Y/n’s messy sprawl.

“ I know your secret ;)

I hope you have a good day, regardless! “

- Y/n

Remus’s cheeks flushed a brilliant magenta, and Lily chuckled at his star-struck expression. The boy was so clueless. Remus pocketed the note and removed part of the wrapper, then began eating the delicious treat, still flabbergasted at its mouth-watering taste. Honeydukes was truly amazing in every way.

The full moon seemed more bearable that night. Not just for him but for the dog, stag, and rat. None of them were injured too badly this time. Nonetheless, Remus was still dragged to the infirmary, where Madam Pomfrey took care of all his wounds that would eventually turn into awful-looking scars. No ones perfect, and Remus Lupin was no exception.

But when Remus woke up the following day to tapping on his hand, he smiled, “ I love you. “

“ I love you too. “ Remus tapped back, and Y/n blushed after realizing; she hadn’t known he was awake, “ No need to be afraid. I’ve liked you for a while. “ Remus added.

“ Date me? “ Y/n tapped while smiling sheepishly, and Remus patted the spot beside him on the bed.

Y/n climbed from the chair she was sitting on and laid beside him. His right arm wrapped around her waist, and her right hand laid on top of his chest. Along with her right leg placed gently over his. Remus kissed the top of her head carefully before tapping on her waist.

“ Of course. “

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littlemisslipbalm · 3 years

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“you make me so angry sometimes”

idk if this gif makes sense, but i feel like it will if you read the story, it just gives me that vibe.

A one shot I cooked up idk, it’s about Harry and a makeup artist on DWD, it’s quite angsty, idk how that happened, it’s also very long, idk how that happened either, maybe i do a part 2, maybe i don’t idk lmk. Feedback is appreciated, not proofread. REBLOGS help writers tremendously and i love reading whatever you write in the tags its my favorite thing!! Love yall and Merry Christmas!

Word Count: 17.7k | Warnings: ENEMIES to LOVERS! swearing, angst!, some anxiety -like self-doubt, yn being mean to harry kind of a lot, i dont remember, nothing too crazy, Nick Kroll?, lots of conversation

When she pictured herself as a makeup artist in Los Angeles, she hadn’t pictured exactly what she was doing right now.

She had expected doing gorgeous makeup for gorgeous actresses or doing wildly fun stuff like in Euphoria. And because of that she had worked her ass off to get where she was today. She had practiced for hours, worked countless hours for free, and networked to the cows came fucking home.

So why the fuck was she using tattoo-strength concealer to cover up the maybe 60 tattoos some asshole musician turned actor had all over?

Don’t Worry Darling was her first major film to work on so she couldn’t complain. She was happy to simply be there. Well she had been. The first day she had showed up 15 minutes early and had worn her favorite power suit she had. It was dark navy with a white lace long sleeve turtleneck underneath. She hoped to look fun but professional.

Hollywood was all about impressions, especially first ones, even when you’re the makeup artist. She had quickly learned that she was one of six makeup artists. One of them being the friend who had helped her get the job, Angie. Angie was like her surrogate mother in Los Angeles that she had met on her first film job for something much less high profile than Olivia Wilde’s second directing project. Her braided grey hair and fabulous jeans had drawn Y/N right in and they had connected instantly.

Since Y/N was deemed the most inexperienced by the head of the makeup department, she was relegated to easier jobs: assisting the other artists on main characters sometimes, mostly dealing with minor characters touch ups (and full make-up if she was lucky), and the job nobody wanted: tattoo coverage.

Harry Styles was one of the leads for the film and besides his minimal acting, everyone knew he was a worldwide rockstar. With the rock and roll life starting off as a popstar life at the ripe age of 16, he had amassed around 60 tattoos in the past decade. Impressive by her standard normally. She usually counted herself as an appreciator of tattoos and their art, finding them similar to makeup and the self expression that came with both forms. Especially since she had a few of her own, but when she walked into Trailer #6 and saw a good amount of Harry’s tattoos, she wanted to murder every artist he’d ever been to.

She had to make an inventory the first day of all of his visible tattoos when he was just wearing boxers. He had been friendly, trying to make conversation, but as the time wore on, they both grew tired and silent. She had to write down the location and a description of every tattoo and as he took off everything but boxers she grew more and more annoyed with his random and dumb tattoos. Some of them were amazing, the eagle, the anchor, the butterfly, and the ferns were probably her favorites. But some of them, she couldn't hold back her rolling eyes and annoyed expressions. The “Big” on his right big toe, a miniscule lock, almost everything on his inner left arm (the packers logo, Pingu, etc.)

She traces at the rose and the ship and then flips his arm out to reveal his inner arm to her gaze. “That is a big fucking bee.”

He snickers, “Y’like it?”

She ignores his question. “For god’s sake, someone is needle happy,” she said as she examined his left arm, taking note of every permanent drawing.

He shrugs his right shoulder, uninhibited by her prodding. “Dunno, beginning to regret some of them.”

“I would hope,” she mutters, scribbling on her paper the various ones she had just seen on his arm. Next was his ribcage ones.

He scoffs, “Oi, it’s not like you haven’t got any.”

“How would you-” She looks at him wide eyed.

“Right…” he takes his right hand and pushes her hair past her ear to reveal three little red line butterflies following the curve of her ear, “There. At least.”

She huffs and knocks his hand away from her. Her hair falling back into its place.

“Maybe some located in a few more intimate places I’m guessing from the red rushing to your cheeks right now.”

“Can you just let me do my job,” she says, not giving in to his teasing or sparing him a glance as she feels his intense gaze on her face. She was studying his left rib cage where a few cool tattoos happened to be.

“You at least have some taste or persuasive artists because not all of these are shit,” she speaks again after just the sound of her pen on the paper filled the trailer.

“Gee, thanks,” he laughs unamused and rolls his large green eyes.

She thought he had some of the biggest eyes she’d ever seen. But she also knew to keep that to herself because he’d either take it as a compliment and think she was noticing him too much or he’d take it as a massive insult and get her fired.

His right hand taps at his thigh, tapping a rhythm she didn’t care to pay any attention too. She just wanted to finish the stupid inventory of the stupid tattoos on this stupid man.

“Take those off,” she says to Harry, looking back at her clipboard again, filling up quickly with her notes.

He stands there, staring at her stubbornly. He was entirely bored with this exercise, especially since his company was some of the worst he’s ever had. She spares him a glance when she doesn’t notice any slipping off of the colorful sweatpants he’s wearing.

She arches a brow at him, her pen tapping impatiently against the paper. “Go on. Can’t imagine you want this to go on longer than it already has.”

He rolls his eyes again, slipping his thumbs into the waistline of the pants and tugging down. Simultaneously, he toes off the dirty vans he seemed to wear everywhere. The fabric pools easily and he steps out of them and discards them on the couch behind him. He’s actually wearing black briefs. She chooses not to notice anything further than that.

“Socks...can stay on,” She tries to say as he begins to peel one off. He stops midway and nods.

She flings his shirt to him, not needing to see his naked torso for another moment, “I know you’ve got some feet and ankle tats, but I also know that you won’t be wearing anything that will expose them. Thank your lucky stars that I don’t have to makeup your feet.”

He catches the shirt easily and slips his arms inside before tugging it quickly over his head and over his expansive shoulders. The ferns disappear out of sight.

“Well then we’re almost done then. Just got the knee ones -”

“And the tiger. That’s gonna be one son of a bitch,” she sighs and examines his legs, not bothering to crouch.

“What the actual fuck dude?” Her tone is exasperate and like she would rather be anywhere else than here.

“I’m sorry?” He sputters, hands on his hips and eyes bewildered.

“Yes. No. Oui. Non. Who are you?” She rubs at her eyes and shakers her head.

“S’a little rude.”

“You’re right,” she semi-rushes out at his serious tone, ready to apologize. When a grin spreads over his face and he chuckles under his breath she really wants to smack him upside the head. He was exhausting. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Thought it was funny at the time. Kind of think it’s even funnier now since it’s got you all mad.” He leans over her shoulder to look at her notes and when she glances at him unhappily he just looks smug.

“Alright,” she finishes the scribble of a description and clicks the end of her pen, “All done. You can get dressed. I’ll see you bright and early for tattoo makeup. It’s gonna take about an hour to do all this, just so you can mentally prepare for that.”

“It was nice to meet you,” he attempts at a friendly and professional farewell. “See you tomorrow…” he trails off as he watches her turn on her heel and walk out of the trailer door swiftly. The door swung shut and bounced a little bit in her wake.

Harry sighed and adjusted his clothes and hair in the mirror. After a moment he shakes his head, an even louder sigh escaping him.

“Good morning!” She greets happily, walking into the trailer without a knock. Well-rested and happy at least that she doesn’t have to just inspect a body, she looks around the trailer.

She realizes no one is there and she’s taken aback. First of all, if Harry wasn’t there then he shouldn’t have left his trailer unlocked. And second, he was fucking late, the fucking twat.

She grumbles, setting her coffee on the countertop. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “In through the nose, out through the mouth” she mutters. She knew this was a big opportunity and having a big star like Harry in her corner could make her career. She needed them to get off on a better foot today.

“Good form, I’d say relax the shoulders a little more,” the door swings open carrying the California twang-British accent that she would soon become all too accustomed to.

Harry points at her shoulders and narrows his eyes regarding her in the trailer. She offers a strained smile through the mirror and Harry sets down his personal things on the couch.

“Alright, well let’s get started shall we,” she smiles and turns to him, gesturing to the swivel chair next to her.

He nods, a twinkle in his eye as he regards her. He’s unsure of the tone and attitude she’s giving him today. She had been feisty yesterday, cordial at times, but mostly biting and witty. He had liked it. It had made the whole ordeal bearable whereas now she seemed to be laying it on a little thick.

“Just your hands and neck today,” she says, pulling out the makeup materials needed and a checklist of the tattoos she needed to make sure were invisible.

“Should only take..a little under an hour today. Just gonna remind you now though, other days we won’t be so lucky.”

Harry chuckles under his breath and rolls his head around his shoulders before sitting in the chair. “Were you tired yesterday?” He inquires.

“Why do you ask?” She throws a glance over her shoulder at Harry. He’s begun slipping off his sweatshirt and yawns as he does it.

“You seem different from yesterday and I’m just wondering which one is the real you.”

She continues working about the room and rolls her eyes to herself, “I’m always the real me. I come no other way, but this morning I woke up and thought ‘this is the job you’ve fucking wanted for ages, so stop being such a bitch so you don’t get fired, you prick’.” She pauses and turns to face Harry. “The ‘you prick’ was directed at me, that was still part of my thought,” she adds.

He throws his head back and laughs. Then he nods, still laughing lightly, “I get that. Sometimes I’m just so in my head and yesterday I was just so fuckin’ bored. Sorry if I got on your nerves.”

“Don’t mention it.” She waves her hand at him nonchalantly.

Then she moves to inspect his hands and notices the lack of rings, unlike yesterday when she had to make him take them off.

“You have amazing cuticles,” she notices and mentions without any pretences. Harry mutters his thanks, pursing his lips as he watches her work.

She stops her inspection and places the clipboard on the countertop in front of them.

“Could you take your necklaces off? I need to cover up half of the swallows and the years, for when you unbutton your shirt a bit.”

He wets his lips and nods, hands going to fiddle with the clasps behind his neck. He slips off one of the necklaces with ease, a yellow eye beaded necklace that he lays gently on the countertop next to the clipboard. Then he takes his cross and pulls it over his head, no clasp needed.

“Could I put some music on?” Harry asks after five minutes of Y/N working in silence and Harry only being able to stare either at himself, her work, or nowhere.

“I can,” she stops her work for a moment, “Can’t have you messing up the makeup before it sets. Otherwise I’d have to kill you.” Harry can’t be sure if she’s joking or not. Therefore, he was intent on not messing it up.

“Any requests?” She stands at the counter now, instead of seated on a stool working on Harry's left hand.

He shrugs, like he hasn’t got the faintest idea about good music. She refrains from rolling her eyes once again because she feels herself in a test. She wets her lips, sifting through different things in her Spotify and then lands on her playlist titled “it’s your song” named after Elton John’s song. It had some other musicians, a mix of Queen, Bowie, and more and she was sure she would pass the test.

She presses shuffle and She’s Always A Woman by Billy Joel begins to play over her laptop. Harry nods pleased and she wants to shake her head at him.

She can’t hold back the scoff though after a moment of going back to finishing his hand.

“What?” His British accent thickens with his annoyance growing.

“Nothing,” she chirps, intently putting the final touches on his wrist.

“Seriously. What?”

She stands and sets down the makeup. “Can you unbutton your shirt?” She made a note to herself that from now on she’d have to have him take his shirt off before setting to work because if his hands got messed up she’d have to start over. Thankfully he was already wearing a button up this morning.

He stares at her, offering no movement, just inquisitively waiting for her to respond to his original question.

She shuts her eyes, taking another deep breath and then bites at her lower lip. “It’s just...you’re so easy to read.” She fears adding anything else and moves towards him with the makeup hoping to encourage him to unbutton his shirt.

His right hand deftly pulls at the buttons as he regards her. His eyes are intent on her, she can see him clearly calculating her. Her green paisley button up tucked up into the back of her bra leaving a splay of her stomach. The semi-balloon sleeves cinched at the wrists leading to her slightly ringed hands. The oversized blue jeans that have no holes, just a tiny patch right next to the left pocket. The frayed ends of the pants laying over her rather pristine white old skool vans.

The Boxer fades in as she waits for him to finish the unbuttoning of the shirt. He’s still staring at her.

“Am I?” He finally inquires, voice pitched higher like he doesn’t believe her.

She gives him a serious stare and leans over him and adjusts the collar of his shirt. She adds paper towels to avoid makeup on his clothes.

“Yes!” She laughs, “And you don’t even think so, which is like...of course.”

He hums, tilting his head back as she sets to work on covering up the swallows. He wiggles his hands that now both rest on the arm chairs.

“I don’t see it.”

“Of course you don’t,” she glances at his face, their eyes meeting for a moment. “You’re Harry Styles. Everyone is in love with this image you created for yourself and it has just enough of your true self that people feel like they really know you, but you also maintain the illusion. So you think you’re this mysteriously amazing, not like the rest guy, but you are just like the rest of them. Obsessed with yourself and rich so you’re deemed eccentric rather than crazy for all the extravagant shit you do. So when you want me to play music and don’t offer any suggestions I know exactly what music I need to play for you to like me.”

“I feel like that last part says more about you than it does me,” he quirks a brow at her, straining his neck to look at her face as she continues to work.

She flushes, his response both better and worse than she expected. She had gotten a little carried away in her response and she had no idea why. She truly wasn’t one to go off on people so easily and especially not with someone she hardly knew, but something about Harry had her on edge. She was just thankful he hadn’t gotten mad at her response, instead he took it in stride. Further proving her point that he was extremely smart and did things purposefully and she saw right through it all.

She grumbles, “It says that all anyone has to do to get close to you is understand the smallest bit about you and you’ll let them in.”

“That is just so completely wrong, Y/N, I hate to break it to you.” It’s Harry rolling his eyes now, unable to move much more of his body as she continues painting on the concealer to remove his tattoos for the movie.

“Fine. Enlighten me on what I got wrong.”

Their argument had all but drowned out their music. They both did love this music and ironically if they would just shut their mouths, they’d probably like each other a lot more.

“Might as well,” he sighs. “First of all, my image is authentic and of course I don’t want to give myself all away. I enjoy my privacy and for everyone to truly know me I’d have to give that up. Which I’m not keen on. So, I regret to inform you but I am the same guy everyone is “in love with”. Second, I know I am a little self-involved, how else would I get here if I wasn’t constantly taking inventory of myself and reevaluating who I am. As a musician, I want to give as much of myself as possible or else it just feels inauthentic. And the extravagant thing, I can’t help that I like nice things and my job has allowed me to afford those things.”

He stops to take a deep breath and she’s working in stunned silence, in disbelief that Harry is even telling her any of this or that he’s spoken that much and so quickly. Wasn’t he notorious for speaking slowly with barely even a sentence worth of actual information. He sounds tired and frustrated, but also, surprisingly, sincere.

He continues, “The music thing. Maybe it was a test, but still it doesn’t mean I give everyone a mile when they say their favorite musicians match up with mine or something. I note that they either did their homework or might be an interesting person to get to know.”

“So which am I?” She widens her eyes.

“Obviously the second even if you’re also making it painfully clear that you don’t like me.”

“You’re smarter than I thought, Harry. I’ll give you that,” she smirks slyly, finishing up the bird coverage now.

He laughs. “Thanks,” he drawls out.

“And I admit that maybe you aren’t as easy to read as I made out, but I think we’re going to have to agree to disagree about the whole being your authentic self. I just don’t buy it. I can see your mind working constantly, you’re not one to just let yourself be free in public. And I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, I’m just saying, you shouldn’t pretend like that’s not what you’re doing.”

Her final thought leaves Harry silent. She pays no attention to his silence or at least she’s actively ignoring it. Instead she tunes back into the music that had gotten them back onto the wrong foot. This was going to be a long few months.

When she’s satisfied with her work, she has them sit there for thirty minutes to give it all time to set before Harry is off to hair and other makeup. They sit there listening to music. Neither of them have spoken again, except instructions from her and Harry’s hums of approval of songs.

Harry stands up after thirty minutes as she stays behind to pack up some items. Just as he’s about to step out of the door, he turns and calls her name.

“For the record, I don’t think you’re giving me a fair shot. You said yourself that you’re different every day. That every version of you, is you. So I hope you’ll give me the same allowance, every version of me is me. In this trailer, in my music videos, on tv, in interviews, in my free time. It’s all truly me.”

She bites her inner cheek as he ducks his head and exits the trailer, not allowing her any response.

“You’re late!”

“Meeting ran over with Nick and Olivia. Sorry,” Harry says as he begins to undress.

It’s the first day she has to cover all of his tattoos. It was going to take forever by all accounts. It had been two weeks since shooting had begun and she had gotten the simple hands and neck down to 45 minutes so she could only dread what his entire body would take.

“It’s fine,” she grumbles, knowing there wasn’t really anything else she could say about him coming late from a meeting with the director and producer.

Over the last two weeks, they hadn’t grown any fonder of one another. Not at all. They at least had gotten into a system though and she was grateful for that at least.

They showed up, Harry got in his chair, she set up the music, and they got to work. Harry would practice lines on some days and he’d tell her that before she turned on the music so there were no interruptions. Sometimes they talked about stuff on set or music or she’d give Harry his line when he was trying to be off script and forgot one. She wouldn’t classify it as pleasant, but they weren’t at each other throats like they were originally.

Trailer 6 had gotten a little homier as the weeks went by, too. Harry began leaving some of his stuff there and he started putting up silly drawings he would make while on set or polaroids people had taken with him while he was there. He tacked up napkins of restaurants that catered the set and wrote funny jokes and quotes on post it notes. His personal assistants sometimes brought in snacks while Y/N was still working and Harry always offered her some. They were usually healthy, but sometimes she’d eat some. Jeff, his manager, had also stopped by on occasion during his tattoo touch-ups that had become a thing after shooting days had grown longer.

On first meeting, Jeff had said, “Y/N? Harry mentioned you.”

She had turned to Harry with an arched brow and he had shrugged. When she looked back at Jeff she didn’t see Harry give Jeff one of the deadliest looks he could muster. She had grimaced and said “Well we spend enough time together for him to know my name. So thank god for that at least.”

They had all laughed and she had gotten back to work on Harry’s wrist.

Today, she needed Harry in his shorts. It was the first day of shooting where his character would be only in his boxers so she had to cover up all his visible tattoos. Olivia had told the makeup department they actually had to cover up his feet tattoos as well. She wanted him sockless in the scene and Y/N had groaned immediately when she made it to the trailer and Harry wasn’t already there.

“But please, for the sake of my job, strip, dude.” She says, arms crossed over her chest and leaning against the counter as she watched Harry set his things down. Her soft green striped cardigan is open, exposing the white tank top sitting underneath. Her bright green shorts hang loose on her, cinched at the waist and folded over once. Her white high top nike’s tap impatiently on the floor, waiting for Harry to get moving.

He nodded, truly feeling sorry for his tardiness, knowing today was a long day. He was anxious and tired. Acting was a different experience to music and he just was really trying his best.

As he began to take off his shirt, he laughed. His arms pulled the shirt over his head and when it popped out from beneath it, he repeated, “Strip, dude,” attempting to mimic her American accent.

He had practiced his American accent in front of her while running lines, but it had a 50’s drawl to it. His acting coach had been drilling him for weeks before shooting and he still liked to practice. The accent he had just down was far off from that and far off from hers too.

“Do not,” she warned.

“What?” He asks innocently and flutters his eyelashes.

She knows his game by now and she knows she should just ignore him. She knows this after fourteen days. She knows this after hours with him. She knows this, but then she’s opening her mouth and playing into his teases.

“Sorry, what’s a word you would know? Mate?” She tries for a British accent with the last word, knowing she can’t win this.

Harry snickers and scratches at his nose with his index finger before starting on taking off his pants. “You’re so Californian.”

“Thank you,” she chirps, moving to sit beside him now that he had settled.

“I like your shorts,” he muses, crossing his legs, likely a little cold.

She glances down at her cotton shorts that showed more of her thighs when she sat for a moment before returning her gaze to his left arm. The longest task of the day was this damn arm.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, “Wanted to be comfortable today. Knew it was gonna be long.”

A smile bubbles onto his face, his pink lips parting to reveal his shiny white teeth behind them. “So true.”

The music is low today. She had chosen Joni Mitchel’s Blue album for the first pick of the day. She had quickly learned Harry preferred listening to albums in order. It tended to make him less jumpy when the same artist came on multiple times like an album. So when she tried to play just an album one day, she found him more cooperative and less irritable.

After thirty minutes of work, she can’t stop noticing how shivery Harry is. It was late October in LA, so it was still warm, but admittedly the mornings could be a little chilly. His shivering was concerning for many reasons. Mainly he was messing up her work and concentration, but she also didn’t want him to get sick or something.

“Do you want me to see if they have a blanket and slippers or something? You look like you’re turning blue.”

Harry turns his attention to her. He had been reading over the script for today again. “That’d be great. I can call…” He trails off trying to think of the name of one of his assistants, but apparently he’s too scatterbrained for it. She assumed it was the hypothermia traveling to his brain already.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll walkie someone.” She says as she grabs the walkie talkie, flicking to the personal assistants channel.

“Hey,” she chirps happily. Harry noted how she talked to other people. So sweet, yet sincere. With him, it was serious and sincere but more biting, callous at times. Less so lately, but she definitely was sharper with him. He didn’t know if it even bothered him anymore. She was engaging if nothing else.

“Is someone free to bring two blankets and men’s slippers over to Trailer 6? I’ve got a naked Jack and I don’t want him freezing before I’m done covering up his tattoos.” She takes her finger off the talking button and glances sideways at him, “Who knows, maybe that would improve his acting. Y’know on second-thought-”

“Alright, alright,” Harry tries to grab for the walkie talkie, but she turns from him holding a finger up signalling him to wait as she listens for a response.

Someone says a simple “On it” and she turns off the walkie talkie and gets back to work.

“I took my finger off the speaker before I said the thing about your acting. Relax, Harry.” She says when he’s still glaring at her. “Just love to see you squirm.”

He shakes out his short chestnut hair, some of it falling over his forehead. Instinctively, she reaches up without even looking and smooths it back. Like she was tucking her own hair out of her eyes, but instead it was Harry’s. She decided to say nothing and was relieved when Harry didn’t say anything either.

She finishes his forearm and moves to his outer upper arm. The rose holds her attention when the PA knocks on the door and she has to race to get it. Nothing could stop her from moving on this work. It was already an hour in and she wanted to scream.

She swings open the door and she wants to die. It was Autumn. Her least favorite PA, of course. She was insufferable and obsessed with Harry. Which was not why Y/N found Autumn insufferable. There were so many more reasons. So many. But that particular character flaw didn’t help her case either. Y/N tried to just take the blankets and slippers from Autumn, but the woman insisted that she come in.

“I’ve got it,” Y/N says.

“No, don’t want you to get makeup on anything,” Autumn’s saccharine voice grinds at her ears and she contemplates cutting them off.

Harry sat in his chair, legs crossed, nodding along to the music, his script discarded on the counter in front of him.

“Hi Harry!” Autumn practically yells, walking right up to him.

Y/N takes a deep breath at the door, letting it swing shut. She bites her lower lip as an attempt to bite her tongue as she walks back to her set-up. The set-up Autumn was conveniently blocking.

“Hello, Autumn,” Harry says kindly, making eye contact with her. “How’re you today?”

“So great! So great! Thanks for asking. How are you?” She points a finger at him like she might poke him and Harry squirms away from her a bit. She, of course, doesn’t notice this.

“Well, thanks.” His eyes flicker to Y/N, who is standing behind Autumn, hands on her hips and attempting not to tap her foot. His tone is clearly dismissive, but Autumn must ignore it. Y/N knows Autumn isn’t as helpless as she tries to come off.

Autumn asks, “Where do you want these?”, gesturing to the two blankets and slippers stacked on top.

“Just on the counter is fine, thanks,” Harry says.

Autumn does as he says and then stands there with baited breath. Y/N’s not sure what she’s expecting. For Harry to ask for her hand in marriage or something? But he just glances between the two women. His own foot begins wiggling in impatience.

“Busy day,” He attempts at dismissing her once again - with kindness.

“Oh my gosh, totally!” Autumn gushes, starting to go off on all of the tasks she has to do. She stands so close to Harry, Y/N genuinely thinks she’s going to sit in his lap. Y/N stares up to the ceiling, begging god or whoever to end her misery right there and then.

Harry sees Y/N’s expression and tries to maintain the neutral expression he’s had for the entirely too long interaction. A smile threatens at his rosey lips that had chapped from the morning air.

“Right, well,” he cuts off Autumn, “Y/N needs to get back to tattoo coverage, I think. So...have a nice day.”

Autumn’s eyes widen like she forgot that there was anyone else in the room and steps back from Harry. Y/N nods, a grimace clear on her face. Autumn gives her the same small she used to get from the popular girls in high school when she happened to be talking to their cool guy friend that they wanted to be more than friends with. Sickeningly sweet and completely fake. She could see the contempt in Autumn’s eyes that swirled just beneath the surface of her perfectly outlined green-ish eyes.

“Okay! You too, Harry!” She begins walking to the door and Y/N takes her seat again, closing her eyes and counting to ten. “And Y/N,” Autumn adds as an afterthought.

“Oh my fucking god,” Y/N sighs, her hands going to rub over her face and through her hair. “That was exhausting. Jesus Christ.”

“What? She’s nice. Maybe a little clueless,” Harry counters. “But she was so nice,” he confirms again, seemingly trying to convince himself of it as well.

She grabs the slippers and slips them on the ground so Harry can put them on easily. Then one of the blankets that she drapes over Harry’s bottom half. He smiles at the gesture, a ‘thank you’ said in a whisper.

“Please, she knows what she’s doing,” Y/N scoffs, “And she’s obsessed with you!” She grabs the concealer to get back to work, “She was all over you and never took her eyes off of your body. It was like she wanted to touch you or something. It was icky.”

“You touch me,” Harry adds cheekily, adjusting beneath the warm blanket.

She laughs, a smile gracing her lips as she gives Harry a look. He was clever.

“It’s my job to touch you, Harry.”

Harry had really tried to not laugh, but it was just so funny. They both snicker, their eyes meeting for a moment longer than usual.

“Speaking of my job,” she adds after controlling her laughter, “Does she not realize just how long it takes to cover all of your bloody tattoos with this shit to make it look like you’re a pristine skinned 50’s psycho killer?”

She finishes the rose coverup and moves to the ship. Harry nods solemnly.

“It’s true...And it doesn’t help that you’re terrible at it, so it takes a thousand years longer than it should.” He adds, laughter overtaking his serious tone at the end.

“Oh my god!” She shrieks in delight, trying not to mess up her work, “That is so rude! I messed up one time - mostly because of you, by the way. And give me a break, this is so not what I thought I’d be doing as a makeup artist for movies.”

He nods again, muttering “Fair, fair.”

They grow silent, enjoying Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, the album that she had queued after Joni’s.

“The body thing, I just learned to ignore it, I think.” Harry mutters, eventually, but it’s thoughtless, like he’s not revealing anything about himself with the statement. But it kind of shocks her. Her eyes widen and she stops her work to stare at his face.

“Harry,” she waits till his eyes meet hers, “That’s, like, not normal. Are you serious?”

“I mean, I’m very comfortable with my body, like I haven’t minded the last 45 minutes of sitting practically nude in front of you. And I have plenty of revealing photos out in the world. I just don’t notice staring anymore, it’s not, I don’t think it’s what you’re thinking,” he tries to reassure her. His eyes are intent on hers, full of seriousness that hadn’t been there a few moments ago.

“It’s one thing to be comfortable in your skin and another to be desensitized to objectification,” she insists.

He nods. “I know. Thank you. I would let you know if what she had done had bothered me, so don’t worry. I felt completely safe the whole time.”

“Good,” she nods back and concentrates again. “Good,” she repeats once more under her breath. There had been way too many distractions already today and she wasn’t even done with his arm yet.

As she continues to work up his arm, Harry sings along to some of the songs on Elton’s album. He happily taps his feet to the different beats, now safely tucked in soft fluffy slippers. She would never admit just how amazing it is to be in the same room as Harry’s singing. It was truly special to be less than a foot from him and hear him sing just under the unique voice of Elton - who was someone he actually knew, which was equally as cool.

He hit every note and knew every word. She was impressed. How could she not be when a literal rockstar sat before her? This was the first time she was truly starstruck by her charge, Mr. Harry Styles.

By two hours, they had moved onto an album by Dolly Parton and they were both singing. They strangely had no fights today, maybe some snarky comments from both of them, but no outright mean-spirited words were exchanged.

She stood in front of Harry, finishing up the swallows. She had finished both arms and the birds, all she had left was moving down his body. Up next, the butterfly.

“I love this tattoo,” she mumbles, twisting Harry’s standing body to face her and taking her seat again. This left her eye to eye with the butterfly on his stomach.

He makes a surprised face and raises his recently plucked eyebrow at his counterpart. “Oh really?”

“Don’t act so surprised. I told you day one that not all of them are rubbish and honestly they’re all pretty cool. I just was so annoyed that I had gotten tattoo coverage as my job and then I had to go and index them all.” She flicks her eyes up to his sculpted face and sees he’s watching her work. “Plus, I have some butterflies of my own, remember?” She grins.

“Yeah,” he ponders her words, “I don’t think that’d put me in a good mood either.”

He pauses again and she continues to work silently.

“So what’s your excuse for the second day then?”

“You provoked me,” she doesn’t spare him a glance, shrugging like it was the simplest answer in the world.

“Pardon?”

“Let’s not go down this road again, Harry.” She sighs, smoothing over the freshly covered butterfly tattoo. His sternum looked so naked, it was unnerving. Now the ferns.

Harry involuntarily shivered when her fingers traced over the ferns lightly, taking note of the expanse of skin she’d have to cover.

“You’re right,” he agrees, “But agree to disagree on the provocation.”

“Sure,” she says curtly, focusing on his skin and her job.

The expanse of skin that the ferns inhabited was slightly fleshy and especially soft. It bordered where his boxers began and she ignored that part of his body completely. It was of no importance to her and she really had no issue blocking it from her vision, even when it was right in front of her. She finishes one fern with Harry jumping only twice from her cold hands. He couldn’t put his robe on until the makeup had all set for half an hour so he’d have to be cold for possibly another hour still.

She traces the fern that is still visible and Harry shivers. She instinctively shushes him softly and his body quiets. As she works, her hair splays around her shoulders and Harry looks down at her working and doesn’t realize what his hand is doing until it’s too late. His right hand runs over her hair, smoothing it out of her face. It was rarely ever down, so it must have been the novelty of it.

“Sorry, I-” he chokes out when he jerks his hand back.

She sits back, slightly taken aback. Her body flushes just from their positioning and what a hair caress would mean normally in this position, but she’s a professional and she shakes it off.

“It’s fine. We’re even.” She assures him, breaking eye contact with his own wide eyes. “Seems like we’re both hair touchers.”

“It’s just so soothing,” Harry muses. “I think it’s human instinct to touch other people’s hair since it’s so enjoyable for yourself.”

“Possibly,” her voice raises, his thought was definitely plausible. Or maybe they were just two touch starved people who were very much in each other’s personal space 24/7.

At the two and a half hour marker, she gets a walkie message from Olivia’s assistant asking when they’d be done. She had just finished the tiger tattoo, which had been surprisingly easy. It took a while, but Harry didn’t shiver once and neither of them pet each other’s hair.

“Probably 40 minutes, sorry. He has a lot of tattoos and the makeup needs to set.” She says seriously and gets back to work, barely regarding the response of “Yeah it’s fine, just wanted an estimate”.

“Jesus,” Harry moans as she covers up his knee tattoos.

She groans in veiled disgust, “Did I just hit a secret erogenous zone? Is that why you have ‘oui’ there, you creep?” There’s a teasing tone behind the nickname she uses.

Harry laughs and runs his hand over his face, pulling at his jaw and lower lip. His jaw is so sharp, she watches him adjust it. “No, no. I’m just so goddamn tired of this.”

“And it’s not your fault,” he adds, feeling bad immediately after he said it. “It’s actually been nice today, but I’m feeling antsy, like I need to move. I don’t like to sit still.”

“I know,” she says under her breath. She simply nods in agreement.

Finally, the tattoos are all covered up and set. They had talked about George Michael when she got to his ankle tattoos that she hadn’t seen before and they laugh about the tattoos and chat a bit more. She helps him slip on his robe that he keeps in his closet in the trailer and then follows him out of it. They had decided they were hungry and he had been pushed back an hour since he had taken so long, so he had a free half-hour.

As they walked to craft services, they talked about actual things besides work. She was pleasantly surprised by what Harry talked about. It was more than music or the movie. It was the tv show he was currently obsessed with and how he hated LA’s traffic the most out of all of his dislikes for the city. She couldn’t help but grin at his Los Angeles slander. She loved this side of him.

Breakfast together after finishing his tattoo coverage became their regular thing. He would come into the trailer, racing from his morning meeting accompanied with tea for two, they’d get his tattoos covered as quickly as possible, and then they’d eat together.

They’d save their “in-depth” chats for breakfast. In early November, he joked about No Nut November and insisted he really wouldn’t have a problem with it - which had made her laugh. They worried together over the U.S. presidential election and meditated together in his trailer to Fleetwood Mac.

Around late November, Harry had requested that Y/N just do his face makeup as well, just to simplify his life a little more and the department had agreed easily. She had to spend extra time on set getting lectured on how to properly do Harry’s makeup, but after two days she stopped getting notes about it. She was so extremely proud and thankful to Harry for doing that.

All he said was: “I mean, you’re extremely talented so I’m not scared of you fucking up my face. Plus, it does make my life easier. Two birds with one stone.”

In late November, he told her about his favorite holiday drinks at Starbucks and what he was getting his mother for Christmas.

When the Vogue cover came out, he laughed over that woman who responded to his cover saying the world needed to bring back manly men. He joked that he was going to really push that from now on, that he was a manly man, and he would sputter with laughter every time he tried to say it with a straight face.

He hand delivered her a special ‘Treat People With Kindness’ sweatshirt that he only had for the cast and crew of the film. Most everyone got them from a PA, but Harry decided since you saw him first in the morning, why not.

He told her about him winning Hitmaker of the Year from Variety when he had left the award sitting in Trailer 6 and about how weird it was to film acceptance speeches in an empty room. His smile had lit up the entire set that day and the day he did his interview on set. He was so smiley she had to bump him with her elbow because he wouldn’t stop smiling at her and it was unnerving.

“Stop that,” She muttered.

“Stop what?” He smiles wider.

“That!” She squeaked, her head shaking as she ducked it to regard his anchor tattoo. “You’re smiling too much.”

“Oh no,” he says sarcastically, “God forbid I be happy.”

“It’s not that,” she bumps his thigh with her elbow, trying to keep her own smile off her face, “Your face is just so intense when you smile. Feels like you’re gonna burn a hole through me.”

He laughs, completely unconvinced, “You just don’t want me to be happy is what I’m hearing.”

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever, dude.”

She saw he was serious about the ‘manly men’ references when the Variety photos came out and everyone and their mom posted the pictures with some variation of that comment as their caption.

She still found that she rolled her eyes at some of the things Harry did, but she genuinely counted him as a friend by the time December had rolled around.

Over three hours, almost always completely alone, doing work for a job you both care deeply about can really make or break a relationship. And that first full-body coverage day had made them stronger together. After that, Harry and her would banter with one another, but there was never anything intentionally cruel. Just friends giving each other shit sometimes. Harry had been right, he had changed her mind about him. And she had realized that that was who Harry was. He was a deliverer. If you didn’t like him at first, he would try and try again until you did, but he did it in a way that wasn’t weasley or anything. It was terribly genuine and she saw it in every relationship he had on set.

On several occasions she had witnessed his friendship with Nick Kroll. A man she had regarded with dislike before the film. She had quickly realized that dislike was misplaced, but she maintained that it was just because she hated adult cartoons - citing that she literally refused to be friends with any person who willingly watched the Simpsons, Family Guy, and/or American Dad and all of those similar shows.

Nick was far nicer and less weird than she had realized. So she quickly shot her friend from high school an apology text for all the Nick Kroll slander she had spouted back in the day. Her friend had rejoiced but also said how jealous she was that Y/N got to see him regularly on set.

Nick and Harry got along great. Harry generally got along better with older people, she noticed when she was introduced to his friends on the somewhat frequent occasion. Trailer 6 was where Y/N saw most of these reactions take place. She would be introduced in the first minute and then she would smile politely and get back to the work of covering up Harry’s numerous tattoos.

Harry would say something simple and Nick, the literal famous comedian, would laugh. In the beginning she’d raise a brow, confused because it truly wasn’t that funny, but as Harry’s friend now, she kept her mouth shut.

Nick would come and sit on the couch while she’d work and eventually all three of them would chat. Sometimes she would get up to go to the bathroom during those morning chats and she would look in the mirror and think to herself “How are you casually talking to these two men right now” and then she’d think “Because you are a boss ass bitch, you got this” and go back out there with a smile on her face.

“Y/N, what are you doing tonight?” Nick asked on the first Friday morning of December.

She looks up from Harry’s cross tattoo that was half covered. Harry was reading, a book casually propped in his right hand and glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. He glanced at the other two in the room. Nick had been getting some work done before he had spoken.

“No plans,” she states simply before getting back to work. It wasn’t full body today, but it was arms and torso, so kind of a lot still.

“You should come over for dinner at my place with Harry,” Nick smiles kindly. His scruff was really coming in today. “To celebrate us almost wrapping the first half of the movie.”

Harry had thankfully freshly shaved before he sat down. It was her least favorite part of her new job. Whenever he came in for touch ups and she had to shave his afternoon shadow. She was terrified she’d cut him and never live it down from her department or Harry. She had no idea which would be worse.

“My wife will be there too, of course,” he adds, hoping to entice her to say yes.

Harry glances between Y/N and Nick again before focusing on his book again.

She purses her lips, finishing Harry’s hand and moving onto the anchor tattoo. “Yeah, I mean, I don’t know why I’d say no. As long as I’m not intruding on the throuple,” she grins up at Harry.

He stares at her with his big green eyes, slightly obscured behind his prescription glasses. He raises his brows and wiggles them a little bit, teasingly.

Nick laughs and slyly winks at Harry through the mirror. Y/N none the wiser as she removes all traces of Harry’s tattoos.

“Great!” He claps his hands and stands up. “We’ll talk or I’ll make sure Harry gets you the info or something. I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out. My wife’s been wanting to meet you,” he smiles again and walks out of the trailer.

She tilts her head at the last part. He talked about her to his wife. Did he really count her as that close of a friend? She was just a makeup artist and he was a producer… She glances at Harry and he gives away nothing. His jaw looks extra prominent and she knows it’s because he’s clenching it. He did that when he was focused or angry, remembering it bulging on the first day they met and how clenched it had been then.

“Unclench your jaw,” she mutters, “It’s not good for you.”

Harry hums and unclenches it.

He stretches his neck by rolling his head around his shoulders and she glances at the movement. His skin is still beautifully sun-kissed and his pores look so soft, only his moles change the texture of his skin. She loves his moles though, they make him especially unique in her eyes. Not that he needed anything else to set him apart from the crowd. Still, she loved them. His collarbone is prominent as he sits there shirtless and she wishes she could reach out and brush at it. But she gets back to work, knowing the only time she’s gonna be brushing near that part of him is when she’s covering dates in those dips behind his collarbones.

“Y’know, I could just drive you to Nick’s tonight,” Harry says, putting his book down and taking off his glasses. He rubs at his eye with his free hand.

“You’re blind and British, how do I know you can even drive yourself?” She asks sillily, pointing to his glasses.

He shakes his head, “I’m serious, Y/N. Aren’t you staying in the same area as me?”

He asks because they had relocated to Palm Springs a little while ago and everyone had gotten rentals and it was hard to remember where everyone was holed up when they weren’t on set.

“Yeah, think so. But you don’t need to pick me up. I have a car.”

“Nonsense. I’ve been to his place before, don’t want you to have to deal with directions, that’s just silly.”

“I guess...” she resigns relatively easily. She had never hung out with Harry off the set or Nick for that matter. It felt surreal, but she knew the right answer was usually just say yes in these situations. So that’s what she says. “Yes, that’d be great, thank you,” she confirms and watches as Harry’s eyes glimmer softly before turning back to his book. A triumphant soft smirk rests on his face.

The words die out between the two of them as she works on. He hums along to the music and continues reading his book. When she’s done with his tattoo coverage and his face makeup, she sends him off to hair and the rest of his day. He gives a flirty wink as he walks out the door and she rolls her eyes in response. She tidies up her kit and then goes to do some other makeup work.

When she wasn’t working with Harry, she was assigned to some of the minor characters and doing their makeup. They were always her second concern, especially now that she did Harry’s makeup as well as his tattoos. As she works on them, she can feel her mind drifting to Harry. Harry and how they were friends now. She was pretty sure, right? They were friends. He had never really said a mean thing to her if she really thought about it. It was her… She had been rude and mean-spirited and he had just taken it. He rarely had even thrown it back at her. He was so good to her and patient and she realized that he had proven to her that he was good. He was better than good, he was kind and loving. Considerate. Wonderful. All of those positive superlatives, Harry filled them. And she had the audacity to be mean to him.

She paused the brush that was adding blush to an actresses cheek.

Lisa, the actress, looks at Y/N confusedly, “What’s wrong?”

Y/N twitches her head, refocusing on her task at hand. The realization of her pausing her work becomes clear as she looks between her hand and the cheek that has not enough blush on it. “Oh,” she breathes. “...I just realized that I was terrible to someone who doesn’t have a mean bone in their body.”

Lisa nods, “Apologize.”

“Yeah, I mean...We’ve kind of moved past the phase where we don’t get along. Like now we’re friends, but the realization just really hit me.” She sighs, picking up where she left off on Lisa’s makeup. “I’ll make sure to apologize next time I see them.”

Lisa smiles.

At the end of the day, Y/N realizes she left her tattoo coverage kit in Harry’s room after their touch-up session halfway through the day. She had run off to help with a makeup emergency for a tiny cut on a minor character’s face and forgotten to go back and grab her things. Another roll of her eyes and a huff of breath and then she’s walking back to Trailer 6, a place that seemed like a home away from home now. She knocks, patiently waiting at the bottom of the steps.

Harry swings open the door and props it with his hip. He’s got a toothbrush held in his mouth, slowly scrubbing back and forth with his left hand. His costume is somewhat taken off, he’s still got the pants on with suspenders hanging down, his chest was completely bare and he looked funny with some of his tattoos only being half covered based on what parts of his skin had been showing today. Her work. His skin looked half silky smooth and half tattooed like usual.

His naked skin seemingly left her breathless because as her eyes returned to Harry’s face, she breathed a soft, “Hi.”

“Hey,” a smirk twists onto his face. “Forget something?”

“Yes,” she nods, coming back to her senses and entering the trailer at Harry’s gesture.

She begins to pack up the kit that had been left haphazardly strewn around on his counter. “I’m sorry I left a mess like this, I got called over to something else and forgot.”

“Don’t worry darling,” Harry grins at his joke.

She looks up from her work and sees Harry in the reflection of the mirror. He’s wiping off the makeup from his chest and his beautiful tattoos reemerge as entire images.

She laughs humorlessly, “It gets less funny each time you use that.”

“That’s not true,” he looks at her through the mirror now, his green eyes trained on her face, “Everyone else still thinks it’s hilarious.”

“They’re humoring you and your fragile ego,” she winks and watches as Harry’s smirk twitches from his perfect face.

“You’ve got a very mean disposition, you know that?” He asks.

He finishes his chest and moves to remove the makeup from his left arm, glancing at the mirror every so often to check himself and to flicker his eyes over Y/N’s face.

She genuinely laughs at that, but scolds herself internally for being mean when she had planned to apologize the next time she saw Harry. This was the next time so why was she doing this instead?

“Rewrite sweet disposition for me?” Her voice honeyed. Clearly stubborn and terrible at saying sorry...maybe her and Harry were a better match than she realized.

Harry twists his lips as he slips on his t-shirt he was wearing today.

“Pick you up at 6:30?” He says as his head pops out from beneath the rainbow striped sweatshirt he slipped on top of the shirt. His chestnut hair had been toweled out and was flopping over his forehead slightly.

She sighs and zips close the kit, standing from the seat she had taken at his counter and turning to face him now.

“6:30 is perfect. Thanks again for doing this. I just can’t believe Nick Kroll is inviting me over for dinner!” She smiles, shifting to lean against the counter as she waits for Harry to finish up. She didn’t have to but for some reason she felt like she was in no rush.

“Are you serious?” He’s moved on to changing his pants now and he’s slipping on black sweatpants.

“Yeah…” She blinks and her eyes widen as Harry appraises her expression.

He straightens up after fixing a cuff on the pants and he can’t tell if she’s being genuine or sarcastic. It was always so hard to tell with her.

“I mean, Nick Kroll is like a huge celebrity and I know in the entertainment business you’re not supposed to get starstruck but when I was in college my sister thought he was weirdly hot and my friends and I would shit talk him. I don’t know, it’s just kind of surreal to be having dinner at his place. Like I’ve watched him on tv and now I’ll be eating with him...so weird.”

He shakes his head, beginning on his dirty vans now. A small laugh escapes his mouth and he glances between her and his shoe, scratching his head quickly. “I still can’t tell… It feels like you’re fucking with me right now.”

“I’m not!” She insists, her hands coming out in front of her in a confused fashion. “I used to watch that guy’s tv show then he’s my boss now he’s inviting me over for food? It’s a lot to process.”

“How come it’s not surreal to be having dinner with me then?” He asks semi-joking, a hint of offense tinged within it. It’s visible only in his knitted brow and twisted lip.

“Careful there, sailor. Venturing into some dangerously self-absorbed waters.” Her eyes light up, a quick raise of her brows accompany the shine, and she decides now is her time to head out. Especially as she thinks about getting ready for this soiree tonight. She needed to shower and pick out an outfit with less than two hours to prepare.

Harry sputters at her response and fumbles with his pink shoelace. “That’s not...that is - You’re being unfair. My question is valid.”

She shrugs her shoulders and skirts Harry’s attempt at grabbing at her arm to stop her from leaving. “Okay, Mr. Big Man On Campus. I promise you you’re the most popular boy in school.”

She blows him a kiss and walks out the door as he attempts to get her to come back by calling her name a few times and slightly shouting “C’mon! I wasn’t being insecure. That was a reasonable ask…”

He sighs and shakes his head again. Every interaction would end with one of them either rolling their eyes or shaking their head and usually a sigh on both of their lips. It was exhausting, but exhilarating too.

20 minutes later, Harry receives a text from Y/N: “You’re still picking me up right :))) ?”

He’s in his car, getting ready to finally leave after getting held up with last minute schedule changes that he had to be informed about by some PA that he had forgotten the name of. His lip quirks to the right and he closes his eyes for a second enjoying seeing her name on his phone screen for a moment.

He types back: “Of courseeee”.

“Fab.” She sends back, immediately followed by: “Fanks BMOC ;)”

A full smile rolls onto Harry’s face after he swipes his tongue over his lower lip. “Yeah, yeah, save it for the next guy” he types out quickly before throwing his phone gently beside him and driving back to his apartment. She made him feel young, not that he wasn’t young, but generally his friends didn’t text like she did.

At 6:28, she receives a text from Harry Styles - his name in her phone. A name she had never expected to see in her phone unless her Spotify was on shuffle. Yet, instead, his name popped up under messages and it read “Here!” followed by a quick “I think” and then a phone call coming through from the apparently anxious man himself.

“Hello Harry.” Her tone even. She throws little items into her purse, making sure everything she needs is there.

“Could you peek out your window? I’m not quite sure I’m at the right place and people are staring…” nerves laced in his rushed tone.

She ambles to the window and opens up the shade she had closed to change. Below her, she sees a sleek black Range Rover with a slightly disarrayed hairdo and big dark glasses peeking below the windshield. She ignored the instinct to retch at the sight of the Range Rover and peered at the lamp lit sight below her. It was definitely Harry, but she searched for the prying eyes he was worried about and saw none. Well, maybe a few, but it wasn’t a lot.

“I see you, I’ll be right out, dude. Just deep breaths, it’s mostly crew staying here right now so they’re just seeing that it’s you, another guy they work with. They won’t come up for pictures...I would hope.”

She hangs up with no farewell, snatches her purse from its place on the bed and races out the door. Harry smiles anxiously at her when she stands next to the passenger’s door and he unlocks it. She bites her lip and raises her brows, waiting to hear if anything terrible happened in the minute and a half it took her to come downstairs and out to the car.

“Hi,” he exhales.

A smirk crawls onto her features and her eyes sparkle with a bit of a childish glee that normally she didn’t exhibit as she glances at him. “Hi.” She says quietly. “Alright big boy?”

“‘M fine.” He huffs but balks at her smile that she maintains while she stares at him. “What?”

“Just happy to see you, I guess,” her smile returns after speaking and Harry glances between her face and the windshield in front of him.

He can’t tell if she’s being serious or not once again. But he fears that conversation of her either ridiculing him for thinking she is serious or being offended that he still can’t tell. Instead, he will keep his mouth shut. For the most part.

“Happy to see you, too,” his lips create a closed mouth smile quickly before turning out of the parking lot.

She watches him. Their first time together outside of work. And they were friends. She needed to get used to simply thinking that. He picked her up to take her to dinner with her other friend and his wife. This was normal life, just with big names behind those terms of relation. Jesus, she always said it didn’t bother her to be around celebrities so why did she think about it so damn much?

She twitches her head and refocuses on Harry and his driving. His jaw is clenched again and she wants to reach out and sooth it herself. Instead she starts to open her mouth to correct him, but stops herself from that as well. They weren’t at work and it didn’t feel like something just a friend would say right now. She refocuses on the view of his eyes that are barely visible while he regards the road. His large eyes that she had grown acquainted to are surveying what he’s doing, every so often drifting to the right side of the road to check out the lane beside him. But then, always back to right in front of him, leaving a crescent of green visible to her.

“Can feel you staring at me…” His voice sounds like it’s rolled around in gravel after the long work day. It makes her wonder if he’s supposed to have a vocal rest when he’s not at work, but then again it’s the weekend now so maybe it was fine. Maybe she should ask him. Or maybe she should stop worrying so much about him.

“Have I got something on my face?” His low register bumps her from her racing thoughts. He doesn’t take his eyes off the road, but she can see he’s widened his eyes in wonder.

“No! Of course not, I just was...making sure you weren’t going to crash us or something.” She grasps at straws, desperate to not be caught by Harry.

A low chuckle bubbles from his chest and he spares a small glance over at her bundled up in his passenger seat. She matches his gaze with something of distrust hidden behind her eyes. She hopes to convey that she’s being silly and when Harry turns back to look at the road unassumingly, she feels like she has won. The harmonies of the beginning of a Queen song take over the silence, Harry’s spindly fingers thrumming against the wheel.

They arrive at the Kroll’s Palm Springs residence at 6:50. 10 minutes early and the two twiddle their thumbs for a few minutes, trying to pass the time and not intrude earlier than they were supposed to. She appreciated that Harry liked to be timely but not early, similar to how she was.

“So what is the fascination with Range Rovers?” She queries, leaning against the door’s armrest. The back of her head touches against the semi-tinted window.

Harry shifts in his seat, seat belt no longer constricting him and no road requiring his attention as they sit in the driveway. He rushes a hand through his hair and lets a single strand of hair fall over his prominent forehead.

“Dunno,” he shrugs his shoulders and allows a hand to fall onto the steering wheel absentmindedly. “I don’t really prefer them anymore, but when I’m in LA and doing work, it makes things easier. My other cars are a little flashier...have more privacy in this.”

“Yet the effect is similar,” she muses.

Her head tilts to take in Harry’s appearance, sharp black silky button-up and dark green plaid slacks, and she rubs a hand over her jaw. His eyes flicker to the movement and attempt to really take it in, even in the dim glow of the lamp light outside barely peeking into the dark interior of the car.

“Effect?”

“Y’know…” She arches her brow at him. He feigns innocence or possibly the expression is genuine. She’s begun to realize Harry was as genuine as they came, but she just didn’t think he was that unaware. An assumption that was likely correct, but even Harry liked to pretend he was a completely unassuming individual.

“Forget it,” she finishes when he gives no indication that he knows what she is hinting at. She doesn’t want to get into it with him again. Especially when he plays at this game where he has no idea what she’s talking about. It made her feel like she was crazy for thinking he made these calculated decisions to get his desired outcomes.

They move on, neither of them quite sure what the other was getting at in that conversation. The two of them walk into the house a minute before their expected arrival time side by side and are greeted happily with Nick and his wife. They’re ushered in and Y/N is happily received by the happy couple.

“So, Y/N, how’s it been for you working with these two? I know they can be more than a handful - especially together,” Nick’s wife, Lily, asks after a sip of wine.

The group of four had been eating for a while with Nick and Harry bantering for quite a bit at the beginning about whether or not Harry would be willing to hand feed Nick. The answer was settled at “another time”.

Harry seems to have a very specific habit of watching whoever is speaking - no matter what. So after Lily has finished speaking, his gaze flickers to Y/N, the person his brain expects to speak next. He watches her attentively as she wipes her mouth on her napkin before speaking.

Her hair was styled differently tonight than it usually was on set, she had it down rather than up in a ponytail or braids. He hadn’t had time to really look at her when they had been in the car, his mind occupied with stress and exhaustion that he refocused into driving and deep breathing. Now, in the comfort of a trusted friend’s home, he was far more relaxed and able to truly take in her appearance, which he couldn’t help but think was beautiful. He’d have to tell her that at some point. That he thought she was beautiful. Not that he didn’t see her on set and think she was beautiful...he just hadn’t really thought about it before. She was his wily makeup artist who was critical of him most times, but occasionally sweet, who had an amazing taste in music and good aesthetic style. The beauty part of it all, he guessed wasn’t something integral to their relationship before.

But now he was sitting beside her at the Kroll’s nice dining table and she had her hair splayed in front and behind her shoulders with one side tucked behind her ear and her outfit fit her impeccably. The top she had on had capped sleeves that cinched with buttons at her delicate wrists and a severe drop to create a small sweetheart neckline just above the curve of her breasts. It was silky and shiny, a blush pink that complemented the high waisted dark grey slacks that flared over shiny black boots that he wasn’t sure where they ended beneath the pants.

“Well,” she starts, chuckling under her breath when she meets Harry’s stare, “Harry and I spend a lot of time together, covering up all his tattoos, and he yaps a lot. So, it’s actually pretty refreshing when Nick comes in, because Harry’s then talking half the normal amount.”

He huffs a scoff, while Lily and Nick laugh happily. Nick interjects an “ouch” for the bite she just took out of Harry, but she thought it was fine, he can take it.

Harry thought to himself that if she can serve it, then she can definitely take it. His eyes remain on her as he opens his mouth to speak, but then look at Lily when words actually come out. “Well, Y/N, she thinks she can read people really well, but it’s actually quite the opposite. She had me completely wrong when we first met, so I talk now in hopes that she’ll really understand me.”

His head tilts to her when he mentions her name, but otherwise doesn’t glance her way away again. He scrunches his nose at the end of his comment, implying he converses with her out of pity.

It’s her turn to scoff and stare at him unamused. Nick and Lily share a look, unsure of what was going on, they had concocted this dinner date idea in hopes to set the two up but the way this conversation was going, they seemed to be pushing each other further and further away from one another.

“That’s simply not true,” she says curtly and takes a sip of her quickly emptying wine glass.

“Which part?”

“Almost all of it, I’d say,” her eyes glaring back at him, fiery with a disdain he hadn’t seen in awhile. “You’re proving my original perception of you with every passing second,” she adds.

“Care to elaborate exactly what the original perception of me was for the class,” his eyes are wide and wild, any extra adoration he had started to feel towards her slipping away just as quickly as it had come, like a wave along the beach.

“You know, so why don’t you?”

“I want to hear you say it,” he grits out the command.

She shifts in her seat, glancing at Nick and Lily who are watching on and she has a feeling she won’t be getting an invitation again anytime soon. Lily gives her a semi-reassuring smile like she was sorry to have asked the question at all, but Y/N knows this is kind of her fault, not that she would ever admit that. Her comment could have been taken innocuously, but Harry’s pride wouldn’t let it slide. Like she said, she should have known better, the weeks of friendship were flying out the window and she was helping them along.

“And what if I don’t?”

“Have fun calling an uber at this time of night,” he shrugs, malice dripping in his tone.

She truly was taken aback at this. A slight sound of shock leaving her mouth. Harry was many things, impatient and anxious usually, but downright cruel with her, she had yet to see it. Arrogant and pompous, definitely, but this wickedness that was starting to creep from the shadows worried her. But the little fiery demon within her wasn’t going anywhere either - yet she might back down to save herself some money and hassle.

“Fine,” she raises her brows in a challenge to him and restates her original take on him - possibly adding a bit extra malice in her phrasing, “You are a shell of a man, held up by the people around you, creating the illusion of a completely genuine and down to earth rocker who dabbles in acting, philanthropy and all around goodness. No one’s ever had a bad experience because no one’s ever truly met you. Not the real you.” She takes a deep breath as she shakes her head in disbelief now, a sarcastic laugh leaving her mouth, “And I thought, I really thought, that I had been wrong. Because these past months you really fooled me with your sweet smile and deep eyes. But when it comes down to it, you tricked me just like everyone else.”

Harry stares at her blankly and she shakes her head once more, feeling foolish. For thinking Harry was someone he wasn’t. For thinking the past few months had been real. For thinking that tonight would go off without a hitch. And the shit part of it was that she had really hoped that all of it was true. She wanted this to be her life, but her instincts had been right. Beware of the picture perfect because it always is just a mirage of deceit and lies.

“All I’ve got to say is you’re a damn good actor Harry, so at least you’ve got that going for you.” Then she pushes back from the table and stands, turning to Nick and Lily. “I really am so sorry, I understand that you probably want me to leave, so I’ll just be going,” her voice faltering at the end, she wasn’t as strong as she liked to pretend and she was pretty sure she just ruined her chances of working again in Hollywood. You’d have to be an idiot to be an enemy of Harry Styles and she feels like she just became his first.

“No!” Nick says quickly, standing too, “I think things just escalated really quickly and some things were said that both of you didn’t mean. Um...just, let’s take a few minutes to cool off. Harry could you and Lily deal with the dishes and I’m going to talk with Y/N alone.”

Everyone nods and Y/N follows Nick down a hallway, a little confused but following after he beckons her with his hand. They go out a side door and end up on a porch in the backyard. He stoops down and opens a little sitting mailbox she didn’t see and pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He places one between his teeth and then offers one to her. She accepts, not usually a regular smoker, but right now seemed like a fair time to indulge in the bad habit. She needed to calm her rapidly beating heart.

He lights the cigarette for her when he sees her shaking hands and then in turn lights his own. They stand on the porch beside each other and stare out into the dark night sky.

“Well, this wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go,” Nick starts, after a few exhales of smoke.

“No,” she laughs nervously, her foot toeing at the wooden slate on the porch. “I shouldn’t have tried to make a joke.”

“No one’s to blame,” Nick says quickly, glancing at her, “You and Harry...you both have really strong personalities and I don’t think either of you are used to being challenged.”

She nods along, she definitely had to agree after the argument they had both willingly gotten into in front of other people.

“I think that can be a really good thing, challenging each other, because then you two can both grow. But what happened in there was more of a battle to the death rather than a friendly spar.”

“Yeah,” she exhales, flicking at the burning cigarette between her fingers, “I don’t know why he gets under my skin sometimes in a way I’ve never dealt with and it’s kind of uncomfortable so I lash out, I guess.”

Nick stays quiet, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Ugh,” she groans, “I wish I hadn’t done that. We were doing so well, it’s like I don’t even really know what I’m saying, it’s like I can’t handle a friendly spar, I always end up going in for the kill - as you put it.”

She rubs at her face with her free hand and then takes a drag herself. Nick bites at his lower lip, trying to think of a solution.

“Y’know? Lily and I had concocted this plan to try and set you and Harry up tonight,” he says slowly, revealing the plan that had clearly been taken off the table as they just needed to attempt to salvage cordiality.

“Really?!” She’s in complete disbelief and slight dismay that the plan was seemingly ruined.

“Well,” he sputters, “When the two of you aren’t throwing verbal fireballs at each other, you’re actually quite sweet to one another. Those fond little glances you hope no one sees, well he does that too, and you both fail miserably because I see it all the time. I’m sure plenty of people do too.”

“Oh,” she states, visibly deflating. She looks to the ashtray conveniently on a table behind her and presses out the rest of the cigarette. “Should probably talk to him, huh?”

Nick nods, stamping out his nub of a cigarette as well. They go back inside and into the kitchen where Lily and Harry have plated dessert. Harry looks a little sheepish, likely having a similar conversation with Lily and she wouldn’t be surprised if her expression looks similar, if not a bit more flushed from the outdoor chill.

Lily murmurs that she and Nick are going to eat their dessert in the living room, a fair bit away from the kitchen and the two now deflated counterparts nod and then stare at each other, knowing what they need to do.

“Can we talk?” Harry rasps out, his voice even lower as he speaks softly, a mere foot away from her in the kitchen.

She nods, but moves further from him to lean against the counter and tuck her hands behind her. She’s lost her appetite and doesn’t want Harry to see her shaking digits.

He’s ducked his head and a stray curl falls over his forehead, laying there softly. He doesn’t move to fix it, just stares at his feet until she begins to talk. He can’t not look at her face when she speaks.

“So…” She slowly starts, not enjoying the tension in the room. Her eyes can’t meet his though, his stare dark and unnerving like usual, but almost painfully so now. “I can start.” She kicks at the tiling on the floor like she had done outside as well, trying to not think about the eyes trained on her right now. “I’m sorry I lashed out on you, Harry. I didn’t mean what I said, it was just a heat of the moment response.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Harry says immediately once she finishes speaking, “I shouldn’t have gotten upset over a silly joke and brought up a sensitive subject. Then it escalated…”

“Yeah, I really liked the friendship we’ve garnered these past few months and I just can’t believe I almost ruined everything - including my career…” she squeaks at the end and tears start to roll from her eyes. “Oh god,” she is hit with the gravity of all that she almost ruined as Harry stares at her again. “I’m so sorry, Harry, I really am. Do you forgive me? I don’t think I could stand it if you didn’t.”

She stands there and feels sobs wrack through her and her hands go to cover her face out of embarrassment. She had caused a scene and now she was making another one. In front of Harry.

In an instant his arms are wrapped around her frame and he’s hushing her cries. They had never hugged before, but now seemed like as good a time as ever. His arms were strong around her and she pressed her face into his chest, not caring at all about how she looked or whether this was worse than getting in a fight and running off.

“Of course I forgive you,” he says and then begins repeating her name over and over, trying to soothe her. He definitely had been hurt by her words, but it seemed like she was more upset about the whole situation than he was and he didn’t think bringing up what specifically had hurt him would help her frame of mind.

She settles after some time, her whimpers and tears subsiding after being rocked into a more peaceful mindset with the help of Harry’s calming voice and reassuring embrace.

“I really am sorry,” she whispers again.

Harry pulls his neck back and his head off the top of her head to look at her face. It was tear stained and her eyes were glassy, lips slightly puffy. He gave her a soft tight-lipped smile. “No more apologies,” he states sternly and then softens again at the slight quiver in her lip. He pulls from her a little more, leaving her at arm's length, with his hands still attached to her hips, fingers slipping over the plaid fabric. “I meant to tell you this earlier, before things…” he stares at her face again and she holds it this time, “You look beautiful tonight.”

She scoffs and her eyes immediately drop to her feet, “Definitely not anymore.” She doesn’t believe Harry.

“‘M serious,” he insists. His right index finger goes to rest beneath her chin and brings her face up to look back at him.

“Sure,” she says, still not convinced but not sure how else to respond. She feels herself warming at all the positive attention he’s pouring into her.

His gaze won’t falter from her face, he’s intent upon making her understand him. He whispers her name, “Accept the compliment.”

“You’re stubborn,” she notes.

“So are you,” he counters quickly.

“Fine, thank you,” she sighs when he won’t stop giving her that look of his. That look that makes her want to melt into the ground because it feels like she’s the only person in the world. “Though you looked especially good tonight, too,” she adds, her hands rubbing over his shoulders softly.

“Thank you,” Harry states lowly, the words only traveling to her ears. His hands fiddle with the sides of her top, thinking about the night and where they were now. Her eyes were red from crying and overall she looked tired beyond her years. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“That’d be nice.”

They make a quiet farewell to Nick and Lily, as well as apologies from both her and Harry. They don’t speak in the car and the music plays loud enough for it to not seem unreasonable for them to be silent. Harry’s hands don’t tap against the steering wheel, they sit in their spots stoically doing their job and nothing more. She watches the window, legs crossed and hands clasped in her lap. She’s thankful for the music because she knows that even though they had talked, it wasn’t enough. What she had said was hurtful and one apology wasn’t enough for how she had behaved. She didn’t think her and Harry would be the same after tonight, but the silence made it possible for her to pretend none of it had happened.

Just as Harry’s car is pulling up the apartment complex that is far darker now, the harsh splatter of rain begins to fall on the pavement and the sleek black car the two are still sat in.

“Oh,” she comments offhandedly, just responding to what she had noticed.

The rain grows louder when Harry parks and then turns off the car. He glances at her for the first time since they got into the car. She registers the look out of the corner of her eye, her face still looking out at the rain. She loved the rain, but there wasn’t always a lot in Southern California, especially not in Palm Springs. It seemed that tonight was different.

“Well,” Harry breaks his silence, she thinks that’s her cue to leave and unbuckles her seatbelt, but he continues. “This certainly wasn’t how I expected this night to go.”

She stops moving, her hand hovering over the handle of the door. She sits back and settles into the seat, feeling her teeth bite into the plush of her bottom lip.

“That’s what people keep saying,” her eyes remain on the rain hitting the front of the car, the splatters of seemingly black liquid that form when the clear rain touches the onyx hood of the car.

“Huh?” Harry grows perplexed at the rather wistful tone of her and how she won’t look at him again. He was still hurt, but he had hoped them talking in the kitchen had straightened some things out. During the car ride he hadn’t wanted to talk, but it didn’t mean he was still angry with her. Just confused, and growing further confused by the second.

“Oh,” she repeats, “Didn’t Lily say? Her and Nick concocted that dinner in hopes to set us up.”

Harry hums, knowing that because Nick had left out a little part of that plan. That he had been a part of it. He had been talking with Nick about getting to know her better outside of work and how Nick had thought it’d be a good idea to have dinner so he had told Lily and they set it up like a casual dinner party. Harry didn’t know how to respond because her knowing that he was in on the plan might just make matters worse. He really didn’t think things could get much worse, but it seemed that they always managed to make it happen so in the end he decided to keep his mouth shut.

“I don’t know if we’d ever be able to work out differences out for that,” she decides to continue, when Harry stays quiet. She scans the interior of the car and watches Harry for the briefest moment before going back to looking out the window. “Nick said that we challenge each other to grow, but all I see us do is hurt each other.”

Her voice is just above the rain pattering outside the car and Harry thinks it sounds almost melodic if it weren’t for the sadness laced in every word.

“I disagree,” he states before wetting his lips.

“Of course you do,” she laughs in spite of herself.

“Even after all these months together and you still don’t get it. I like you.”

“You don’t like me, I don’t know how you could ever like me,” she shakes her head. “We just...we get under each other’s skin. You can make me so angry sometimes and I know I make you angry too. And when we’re not angry, we’re focussed on something that doesn’t have to do with ourselves.”

“I don’t think what you feel for me is anger,” Harry insists, “Just because something feels burning and fiery, frustrating even, doesn’t mean it’s anger.”

His body shifts closer to the center divide and she turns to face him finally. His eyes are extra dark in this lighting, which is barely there from a streetlamp a ways off. She longs for the comfort of his light green eyes, the soft pale glow of the moss that seems to have been trapped within his iris. Maybe for that reason she unknowingly leans closer to him.

“Then what is it?” She whispers, eyes blinking slowly as her breathing grows strained.

“Passion.”

Immediately, her head is tilting to meet his lips. Her mind knows one thing, she needs to be kissing Harry right now. And then she is. His left hand goes to cup her cheek as his lips attach themselves to hers. His soft lips press to hers in a long searing kiss. They stay there for a moment, pressing all of that passion and frustration into the kiss.

She presses impatiently forward, her lips starting to move more, wanting to kiss him deeper. Harry obliges, parting his lips and kissing her more vigorously. He licks into her open mouth and smiles at the sound she makes in appreciation for his actions.

She’s shifted to have herself kneeling on the leather seat and she’s leaning over the console. One of her hands finds purchase on Harry’s thigh and grasps tightly, her other at the back of his neck, pressing him closer if it were possible.

His chest is pressing against hers as he pulls her closer. He kisses her and his fingertips rub softly at the apple of her cheek. Eventually they run behind the shell of her ear and trail down her neck.

Eventually, she pulls away and stares at Harry. She watches as his eyes flutter open gently. His soft eyelashes dust his cheeks before moving away, allowing his eyes to peer at her in the dark.

Her breathing feels a little irregular after the kissing and she’s sure she is heaving her chest slightly, likely mirroring Harry’s chest as well.

“So, where to now?” She inquires, lips quirked up at her suggestion.

Harry giggles and scratches his nose against his index finger.

Harry doesn’t stay the night, he walks her up to her apartment door though. He kisses her chastley in front of her door and wraps an arm around her waist as he does so. He bids her a goodnight and a promise of seeing her soon.

They don’t see each other for a month. Both of them had been so blissful after the endorphins of kissing their person that they had forgotten that filming had wrapped. They weren’t set to work for a month. Harry texted her the next morning informing her that he’d be in England until filming resumed. She was still going to be in California, filming was moving back to Los Angeles, so she’d be back in her place there. Her family knew she was working, so they had sent her presents ahead to her place instead. Angie, her only true friend in the area, was spending her time with her actual family and Y/N didn’t want to intrude.

So the holidays were going to be spent alone. Those four weeks alone passed surprisingly quickly. She practiced techniques on herself, bought a tiny Christmas tree like the one in A Charlie Brown Christmas, watched A Charlie Brown Christmas and just about every other holiday movie possible. She fell in love with young Hugh Grant and Colin Firth for the thousandth time. She sang carols to herself and decorated her place with decorations from Target. She jammed out to the new Miley Cyrus album and held dance parties for herself in the house. She baked cookies and even attempted a trifle after watching a Great British Bake Off episode. She did and she did all in hopes that her mind wouldn’t wander to the guy who hadn’t called.

Harry texted occasionally, but it was infrequent at best. He was a busy person, she knew that. She knew who he was. And she didn’t want her mind to have enough time to feel sorry for herself. For her to think that she was just somebody to pass the time with while at work, because if she stopped doing things that’s where her mind would wander. Why did her mind spiral like it did? She had no idea, she’d always been like that.

His absence, their separation, made her question if her own feelings were even true. She wondered if when she saw him he would act as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t said their relationship was passionate and she had kissed him until she couldn’t breath.

Too much time alone, she needed some fresh air. On January 2nd, after an uneventful night at home and a lackluster countdown washed down with cheap champagne, she decided to go and walk around near her place. There was a coffee shop that wasn’t extremely expensive that she also liked that she figured she would get coffee from. After a brisk walk, she walked through the store's doors and ordered an iced green tea. As she waited, she watched the other customers around her, wishing to see a friendly face, someone she knew. And seconds later, she was met with half of that wish. Someone she knew, not necessarily a friendly face.

“Autumn.” She states with a grimace when someone taps her on the shoulder and she spins around.

“Y/N? It is you!” Autumn, one of the PA’s from Don’t Worry Darling who was especially in Harry’s business, exclaims overly happy as per usual.

Y/N bites the inside of her cheek and gives a tight lipped smile, trying her best to be cordial.

“How’s your holiday been!” Autumn asks.

“Great. You?”

“So great!” She’s quick to lean closer and say in a hushed tone, “But I miss working on set, especially getting to see that Harry everyday. He’s just so gorgeous.”

A breath gets stuck in Y/N’s chest at the mention of Harry’s name. Her brows can’t help but raise a bit at Autumn’s comment. Even lowering her voice didn’t make it feel alright to talk about Harry like this. He was her friend after all.

“Sure.” Y/N nods abruptly, realizing Autumn wants some recognition of what she’s just said. Y/N’s eyes glance around the room, hoping for an out like her drink is ready or something - no such luck.

“I mean,” Autumn keeps talking, of course, “You’re so lucky. You get to see him shirtless, like what? Everyday practically? Don’t tell me you don’t miss that just a little bit!”

“I miss working,” Y/N says, avoiding what Autumn is trying to get her to say. “And Harry’s my friend, could you maybe not talk about him like that with me?”

Autumn’s eyes widened in shock, her lips parted dumbfounded by her co-worker's response. Y/N’s name is called for her drink and she’s thankful for the serendipitous nature of that sound getting her out of the awkward situation she had just been in.

When she gets back to her apartment, she surprisingly has a text from Harry himself. She’s always telling everyone; speak of the devil and he will appear, in one way or another. It’s a Happy New Year well wish followed by a separate text asking how she was.

It was sent a minute ago so she decides to try and give him a call. She preferred talking on the phone over texting.

It rings a few times and then, again surprisingly, he picks up.

“‘Lo?” His voice is nice and deep and sounding extra British after his weeks surrounded by family and such.

“Harry,” she sighs contentedly.

“Happy to hear your voice,” he says her name and she can tell he’s smiling just like she is, from ear to ear.

She bites at her lip, hearing him say her name.

“I’m well, thanks,” she says after a moment of happy silence.

“What?” Harry laughs, confused.

“You texted asking me how I was and I called to respond.”

“Got it,” Harry chuckles, and she hears him shuffling around, likely sitting down on something.

“How are you?” She continues.

“Good, starting to wind down for the day,” he lists off the things he’s been doing over the past few days. Some of it work related, some of it family activities. All of it fun, he insists. “What did you do today?” He finishes, knowing she was an avid activity doer based off of the snaps she had sent him over the past few weeks.

“Tidied my place, went to the coffee shop and got iced tea…” she tries to think and then she gasps, “Oh! And I saw Autumn, one of the Don’t Worry Darling PA’s -”

“The one who’s obsessed with me?”

“Exactly!” She laughs, “And I may have kind of told her off… accidentally.”

“Accidentally told her off?” Harry repeats, incredulous. “How’d you do that?”

“Well,” she doesn’t want to tell him the rest, but there’s also a tiny part of her that really does, “She was gushing about you, which, ew. And then she asked if I missed seeing you shirtless everyday.”

“Well do you miss seeing me shirtless?” Harry smirks.

“Oh shut up!” She’s quick to reply.

“So you do?”

“If I really wanted to see you shirtless, all I’d have to do is type in “Harry Styles sh” and it would come up,” she rolls her eyes even though she knows he can’t see them. “Wouldn’t even need the whole word. Guaranteed.”

“Uh-huh?” Harry questions still, “If you want me to send you shirtless pictures that the rest of the world hasn’t seen, Y/N, all you have to do is ask.”

“I do not want you to send me shirtless pictures of yourself!” She exclaims. She feels like jumping out of a window right now. This conversation had escalated so quickly and she felt herself flushing, maybe even perspiring a little bit. And she also knew that she also would probably like it if he sent her shirtless pictures, which made this whole thing worse.

“Offer stands,” he says, smug as he normally was, happy he got to banter with her again. It had been dull without her, if he was honest with himself. “If you ever find yourself in need, just send a cheeky text and I’ll whip one out for you, no matter where I am or what I’m doing.”

“See this sounds like you’re saying something sincere, but really you’re just telling me you’ll send me nudes at any time.”

“No one said anything about nudes!”

“Shirtless, nude, sounds like you’re getting too caught up in the details, hon.”

“No!” He protests, “You’re the one who’s supposed to be flustered right now, not me!”

“Aww, you’re flustered,” She coos.

Harry groans. “Whatever. I’ll be back on the 8th, be ready to go out on the 9th. I’m taking you on a proper date.”

“How do you know I’m going to say yes?” She bite her lip again, she’s really sweating now. She couldn’t believe he had just asked her out on a date out of nowhere. Out of them just joking about nudes. Maybe she didn’t know Harry as well as she thought.

“Because you called me,” he says confidently.

“I call everyone.”

“But I don’t offer shirtless pictures to everyone.”

“That has nothing to do with me saying yes to this date.”

“Or does it?”

She laughs at his words, at how his voice still manages to convey every facial expression and quirk of his lips. She knows there’s a smile on his lips as he stares in the distance, imagining her face just as she is his.

“Yes.” She smiles.

“Yes!” He repeats happily.

She hears him stand up and spin around possibly and she chuckles slightly, amused at the silly man across the world who had seemed to have stolen her heart.

“See you soon, Harry.”

“Not soon enough.”

On the Saturday of their date, Harry insists on picking her up. He meets her at her door and winks at her after pulling away from their short hug. He laces his hand in hers and she follows behind him as he all but drags her to his car that is downstairs. He seems giddy. His hair has grown out in the month he’s been gone and she knows they’ll cut it when filming resumes. He’s wearing Gucci flared blue jeans - she knows from the big logo on the bottom left pant leg - a ‘Waiting for Sunset’ graphic tee beneath a black cardigan with little animals and items knitted in it. And of course, his dirty ass vans. She had hoped that maybe Christmas would bring him a fresh pair from someone, but it seemed there was no such luck.

Either way, he looked good and upon scanning his outfit, she was pleased that she had dressed correctly for the occasion, knowing one of the sins of Los Angeles was being improperly dressed wherever you might go. Harry had said casual, but casual can always mean so many different things. She got it right with light wash high-waisted levi’s, a brown cream rib-knit long sleeve that buttoned like it could be a cardigan, and some fun chunky boots that added some height to her normal stature. She had contemplated between this and possibly twenty other tops and a few other bottoms. Landing on this felt right, plus it didn’t clash with Harry, the color of her shoes actually matched the color of the snake on the cardigan.

They both compliment each other on the way out to his car and she giggles when he stops and twirls her around. He says he didn’t get a “proper look” before for him to compliment her adequately. After the twirl, he nods and starts them off again, complimenting the specific pieces of her clothes and says she looks beautiful again. His giddiness was contagious.

“No Range tonight,” she muses when Harry stops them in front of a Mercedes-Benz cream convertible, top up.

“Not working,” he replies, unlocking the car with the key into the passenger’s side door handle.

She smiles and slides into the car and watches him jog around to his side and unlock it as well.

“Tonight is going to be fantastic,” he says, leaning over the console and kissing her cheek, just beside her lips.

And when he pulls away with that smug smile of his, she knows he kissed her there on purpose. But the little tease only makes her smile more. He was good at this. And he was right.

The night was fantastic. As was every night after. And she learned that Harry was so much more than anything she ever thought. She counted herself lucky to be loved by a man like him.

#harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #enemies to lovers #dwd!harry #idk I always feel like theres more I need to put in here but idk #pls leave feedback and reblog

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