#I JUST got my pen and started drawing straight away LOL | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tobesobri · 4 years ago

Text

Traditions | 17.3k

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

prompt: doube date

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t know her.”

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

“Couple weeks.”

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

“Well at least I’ve had one.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Damn, way to make us feel incompetent.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N wait, I have to—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like I’d lower my standards for you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She recoiled. “Um… why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A double date? With your ex?”

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

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

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

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

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

“At this party… and bef—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He breathed out a laugh. “It’s Adam.”

She knew it had started with an A!

“Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was… pathetic. To say the least.

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

“So… what’s in the box?”

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

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

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

“Give me fifteen minutes.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you?”

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

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

“I don’t look at her.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He flinched. “Did she say something?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You didn’t have to—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

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

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

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

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

This would be a long, hellish night.

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

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

Adam just shrugged.

“How did you guys meet?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think it’s the same thing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Laura returned shortly after that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Put your seatbelt on.” He whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He leaned again, “Afraid I already am.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Confusion flooded her features as she peered up at him.

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

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

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

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

“Are you saying yes?”

Y/N hesitated. “Is she back?”

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

“She is.” He finally announced.

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

He was still there.

Still watching.

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

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

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

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

“That was quite the show.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t.”

“So then what is this?”

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

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

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

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

“What does that mean?”

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

Harry didn’t say anything.

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

“Him kissing you seemed quite real to me.”

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

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

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

“You still kissed him though.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Making out with Adam in the middle of the room.

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you staying?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s the other part?”

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

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

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

She opened her mouth and then closed it.

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

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

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

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

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

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think the date is over now.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Something like that, yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right… I’d be upset too.”

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

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

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

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

“Maybe you’ll get to find out.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And why’s that?”

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

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

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

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

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

She froze and he chuckled at her reaction.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1K notes · View notes

taetaespeaches · 4 years ago

Text

“I could never want less of you.”

hoseok x reader (or oc) genre: angst; fluff word count: 3.3K

a/n: Ok, I’m giggling because this was supposed to be much angstier than what it turned out to be lmao. But like, it’s Hobi and Petal, they just work shit out, idk lol. Anyways, these two are taking a big step in their relationship and it brings out some stress and insecurities and it leads to an argument that is really patched up very quickly lol. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :))

SITTING at the kitchen island, you scrolled through the photos displayed on your laptop screen of a seemingly perfect apartment that was currently available. The location was conveniently placed in close proximity to both yours and Hoseok’s workplaces, the apartment was stunning, and the building was safe and secure. It appeared to be exactly what you and your boyfriend were looking for.

It was a month ago when you and Hoseok decided you should move in together. He practically already lived at your place anyway, you loved having each other around, and you absolutely planned on spending the rest of your lives together. Finding a new place together felt right.

Bookmarking the page, you wrote down the realtor’s name and number and noted a few details about the living space. Clicking onto another apartment, tapping your pen on the notebook, your front door opened, the sound drawing your eyes to see Hoseok kicking his shoes off before meeting your gaze.

“Hey, Petal,” he gave you a small smile, his eyes darting to your hand that was tapping the pen repeatedly.

“Hi, Sunshine,” you grinned before turning back to the screen to pull up the perfect apartment once again. “Guess what I found,” you said excitedly, Hoseok humming as he approached you. As he peered over your shoulder at the screen, you gestured to the laptop with a playful, “ta-da!”

“Oh, an apartment?” He questioned.

“I really like it, look,” you started, Hoseok already losing focus as he took a step away from you.

“Petal, I just got home,” he pointed out, you turning to look at him, inspecting his features. Your heart dropped at the apprehension displayed in his expression. Throughout the past week, your boyfriend had been acting less and less interested in apartment hunting, and you were beginning to take it personally.

When you and Hoseok first decided to move in together, he was the one who suggested it, stating that he couldn’t wait to have a shared space with you.

Lying in bed together, your nude forms pressed together in a post-sex cuddle, you dragged your finger across his chest as he soothed his knuckles up and down the curve of your hip.

“I missed you,” he spoke softly into the moonlit room, the illumination pouring in through the bedroom window.

“Did you miss me or my bedroom skills?” You teased, Hobi chuckling as his hand moved to tickle your side, you squirming against him until you rolled on top of him, resting your chin on his chest. “I missed you too,” you admitted before bringing your finger to his nose, tapping it gently with a “boop”.

“Your apartment is too far from the studio and dorm when the schedule is packed,” he complained with a slight whine. He had been upset all week that he hadn’t been able to see you due to your hectic new job and his demanding idol schedule with a comeback in the works. “Six days is too long,” he added.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get to the dorm to visit,” you apologized, the man instantly shaking his head.

“No, our places are just too far apart,” he pointed out. “I couldn’t get over here either.”

With your eyes raking over his face, you huffed. “My apartment is too far from everything now,” you thought aloud. “It was good for university but now my job is closer to where you’re at and it just doesn’t really make sense to be living clear out here.”

“Are you thinking of moving?” He asked, his eyes widened.

“I don’t know,” you pondered. “Maybe?”

Your boyfriend nodded slowly, watching you carefully. Inspecting his expression, you knew there was something on his mind. “What is it?” You questioned him, the man smiling in response at being caught in thought.

“Well,” he started nervously, you staring at him curiously. “You’re thinking of moving,” he added, you humming in confirmation, “and well, I’ve been thinking of my life with you. Our future,” he clarified.

“Hobi,” you realized, making him smile wider.

“Would you want to move in together, Petal?” He asked, you holding back your smile as you stared at him.

“You’re not just suggesting this because I might want to move, are you?” You asked, Hobi quickly shaking his head. “Because this is a big decision, it can’t just be made out of convenience,” you added, your boyfriend chuckling as he tried to cut in. “Like we need to actually want this,” you continued, Hoseok smiling even wider.

Calling your name to get your attention, you stopped talking to appreciate the grin spread across his face. “I actually want this, Petal,” he assured you. “I’ve wanted it, I plan on spending my life with you, I obviously want to live with you.”

The words circled your mind for a moment before a smile broke out on your face. “I want this too,” you agreed easily. “Of course I do,” you added, more telling yourself than him. “I hate not having you here in the evening,” you realized suddenly.

“So, yes? Are we moving in together in?” He asked for clarification, you scrunching your nose at him, the man letting out a cute scream in excitement, you laughing in amusement of him. “Omg, you have champagne in the kitchen,” he realized, gently rolling you off him as he ran out of the bedroom butt ass naked to retrieve the celebratory drink, only to return a second later.

“Did you forget something?” You asked through your giggles, the man nodding.

“This,” he said just before kissing you hard and passionately, pouring every ounce of love he had for you into the action. The champagne could wait.

However, as time went on, Hoseok seemed to become anti-enthusiastic about the very real apartment hunt, and it made you worry he only liked the idea in theory. When put into action, he seemed to be changing his mind.

When you turned back to the screen, Hoseok sighed, noticing your dejection. “Ok, show me,” he started, moving closer to you as you shook your head, minimizing the tab as you pulled up your email, shifting focus as you continued tapping your pen against the notebook. “Petal,” he called out.

“No,” you said simply, not wanting to get into the fight that was inevitably on its way.

“Will you please just show me the apartment?” He asked, an annoyance in his tone. Scoffing at him, you continued tapping the pen against the notebook, Hoseok focusing in on the steady rhythm as you scrolled through the pointless junk emails. “Stop tapping that,” he suddenly spoke, you dropping the pen as you pushed your stool away from the counter.

Standing, you began to walk away, pushing past Hoseok only for him to reach for your hand. You let him take it, turning to look him in the eye.

“I don’t want you to look at the apartment because you feel like you have to, I want you to look at it because you want to, because you’re excited about living together, because-”

“I am excited,” he insisted, you rolling your eyes as you pulled your hand from his. “What?”

“Do you think I’m stupid? You’ve acted bothered every time I’ve brought up apartments to you for the past week,” you pointed out, Hoseok huffing as he watched you walk further into the kitchen. “Is it me?”

“What? No. Is what you?” He asked in concern and confusion, you staring at him as your heart pounded in your chest.

“Do you not want to live with me? Is that why you’re not excited?” You asked, holding back the emotions that were bubbling to the surface.

“I do want to live with you, there is not a single bit of truth in that entire thought process, so stop,” he told you firmly, you shrugging. “I’m just tired,” he defended his recent lack of interest, you shaking your head.

“Don’t blame whatever is happening on tiredness, I know you better than that,” you informed him, the man looking at you guiltily. “You went from being really enthusiastic about the whole process and loving every apartment to nitpicking the apartments over small things to completely avoiding looking at the apartments at all,” you continued. “Something is happening.”

The man simply stared at you for a moment, you biting your bottom lip as you tried conceal the tears that were quickly working their way to the surface. Instead of speaking, he looked to the laptop, placing his fingers on the track pad.

“Don’t,” you told him, closing the laptop, Hoseok moving his hand out of the way just before you shut it completely. “What is going on?” You asked him desperately, the tears pricking your eyes as they gathered along your bottom lash line. Sighing, he looked down at the pen. “Hoseok.”

“The pen tapping,” he whispered, you glaring at him in confusion.

“What?”

Looking up to meet your gaze, he noticed the tears, his face dropping at the realization that you were nearly crying because of him. “You tap your pen whenever you’re focusing on something,” he said, furthering your confusion.

“Ok?” You questioned. “So you don’t want to live with me because I tap my pen?” You asked, the man letting out a huff of air as he shook his head, you wiping your face with the back of your hand.

“No,” he spoke in a fragile voice. “I love when you do it. It’s cute and it’s how I know you’ve lost yourself in thought.” His own emotions began taking over as he tightened his jaw.

“What the fuck is happening, what are you saying?” You questioned in frustration, not understanding the point he was attempting to make.

“People say that the small things you love about a person sometimes become the stuff that drive a wedge between you,” he explained, you staring at him in disbelief.

“Seriously?” You questioned, your boyfriend scoffing at your judgmental tone.

“Just forget it,” he dismissed, turning his face away from you to wipe his eyes.

“No, let me get this straight,” you continued, Hoseok looking back at you with a glare. “You think our relationship is so fragile that being locked in a shared living space with me as I’m tapping my pen will be the ruination of us?” You asked him coldly. “That’s what you’re saying?”

“Jesus christ,” he complained, waving you off. “What I’m saying is that I’m scared,” he admitted. “It’s a big change and I’m scared that all the weird little things about me that you love now are going to end up being the things you hate.”

A small sob escaped your lips at the realization that he wasn’t concerned about him falling out of love with you, but rather you losing feelings for him. “Hoseok, do you understand how much I love you?”

“Yes,” he told you as a tear slid down his cheek. “But I also know how fiercely independent you are and I’m worried that with too much time with me, you’ll realize you want less of me,” he told you, revealing the insecurities he had been hiding away.

“But that’s so ridiculous,” you told him, the man shrugging. “Hoseok-” you started just as your phone rang, cutting you off. Your boyfriend looked at the device that sat next to your laptop.

“It’s your work,” he told you, you sighing.

“It can wait,” you told him, Hoseok shaking his head. “No, we’re not done,” you added, your boyfriend holding the phone out to you.

“The job is new, you need to answer this,” he told you, you shaking your head stubbornly. Pressing answer for you, he gestured to the phone, you huffing and cocking your head at him, taking the phone and bringing it to your ear. Sniffling, you greeted your coworker on the other side of the call.

Hoseok walked out of the kitchen, your eyes following his every step, you listening intently as he moved about the apartment. When the shower started, you tried to focus on the call, taking the opportunity to take care of your work while he was occupied. However, you couldn’t care less about the work issue when you knew your boyfriend, who was just feet away, was so scared of you losing feelings for him. Hoseok and his worries consumed every corner of your mind, making you resort to hums and one-word answers to the fellow employee on the phone.

By the time he stepped out of the shower and entered the bedroom, your work call had ended, you instead sitting back at the island as you looked through the photos of the perfect apartment over and over. How could he not know that you’ve pictured your future with the man since your first date? Your love wasn’t so frail that your feelings would just simply go away.

You not so patiently awaited his return to the kitchen to continue the previous discussion, but he never appeared. After about five minutes, you picked the laptop up and made your way to the bedroom, quietly peeking your head inside to find Hoseok underneath he covers in bed, his back turned to the door.

Despite the tension and the leftover frustration, the concern and hurt, you felt nothing but relief in that moment. Watching as his body rose up and down slightly in accordance to the inhales and exhales that entered and left his sleeping frame, you were just thankful that he was there. You always wanted him there.

Stepping into the room, you placed the laptop on your bedside table before crawling under the sheets, and turning toward your lover. You could only see the side of his face, but he looked peaceful as he slept. You were with him. Through all of it, whatever may come. And the knowledge that he questioned that was enough to elicit tears as you draped your arm around his waist, holding yourself tightly to him as you rested your cheek against his shoulder blade, matching the air that entered and left his lungs as he breathed in and out.

The man stirred at your touch, his hand finding yours that rested at the center of his abdomen, his larger one enclosing over yours.

“I don’t know how to assure you, but I’m just so happy you’re here right now,” you told him through your tears, the man immediately turning in your embrace to face you at the sound of your emotions.

“Petal,” he frowned, you hugging him tightly as you buried your face in his chest.

“I love you so much, I need you to feel it,” you cried to him, your boyfriend pressing his lips to the top of your head comfortingly.

“I do,” he promised. “It’s just a big step, I got overwhelmed.”

“I don’t always express myself as much as I should, but I need you to understand that my love for you is the most sincere and intense mix of emotions I’ve ever had the pleasure of feeling and I don’t ever plan on letting you go,” you told him in a surprise verbal confession that neither of you expected to leave your lips. “I love you, Jung Hoseok,” you told him, lifting your face from his chest to look him in the eye, no shame, no embarrassment present. “Thank you for being here,” you told him genuinely. “I always want you here.”

The man leaned his head toward you to press a sweet kiss to your forehead, you leaning into the touch. “I know that,” he whispered against your skin. “I do, I promise I do,” he assured you. “And I don’t want to be anywhere else than right here right now.” You sighed in relief, Hobi’s lips curving into a smile against your head. “Except maybe in our shared apartment,” he added, you giggling lightly at the comment.

“I know it’s overwhelming,” you told him. “I’m nervous for it too, but I’m sure of us.” Hoseok’s smiling lips pressed a few more kisses to your forehead quickly before he pulled away to look at you.

“I am too,” he nodded.

“Good,” you told him with a small smile. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“I’m glad you did,” he chuckled.

Inspecting his sleepy features, you brought your hand to his face to run your finger along his cheek purposelessly. “How tired are you?” You asked.

“Why do you ask?” He questioned back, smiling fondly at your smirk.

“Can I show you the apartment?” You asked in a hopeful tone, Hoseok’s grin widening as he sat up quickly, nodding happily.

“Please, I really want to see it,” he told you, you wiggling in excitement before sitting up with him and reaching for the laptop.

“Ok, it’s located perfectly between your studio and my office, and it has a small little deck area, and the floors are hardwood, and omg it has a bathtub,” you ranted on, pulling the computer onto your lap. “Oh and wait until you see this fucking closet it’s mass-” you were cut off by Hoseok placing a finger to your chin, turning you toward him to immediately place his lips to yours, you easily kissing him back.

Your lips worked flawlessly against one another’s, his soft and warm as always. Pulling away from you, he beamed in utter adoration, you grinning shyly. “I really cannot wait to live with you,” he told you.

“Me too,” you agreed simply, back to your short words with big meaning. “And I could never want less of you,” you told him, the man’s gaze softening at your assurance. “Plus,” you added, intriguing your boyfriend. “If I ever get sick of you, I’ll just tell BigHit to send you on a worldwide tour,” you teased, Hoseok playfully scoffing in feigned disbelief.

“You’re so mean,” he joked, kissing your cheek repeatedly, you giggling at the action.

“You’re so obnoxious,” you retorted happily.

“I know,” he grinned, pecking your lips softly. “Now show me this thing,” he told you, gesturing to the laptop.

“Ok,” you turned to the screen, clicking on the first image. “We could have a little garden here,” you told him, “and oh my god, look, we could put a little bed here for Mickey so he can bask in the sun.”

As you went through the photos excitedly, explaining your vision to him, he could see everything vividly. Waking up and walking into the kitchen to see you dancing around to music as the coffee brewed. Cuddling on the couch with you as you both attempted to watch yet another horror movie, only getting five minutes in before you both called it quits, turning on an animated film instead. On the rare days he got home before you, he would cook you dinner at that stovetop and when you came in and greeted him gratefully, you’d sit at the kitchen island and you’d tell each other about your days. On lazy Sundays, he could see you sitting on the deck area reading a book, Mickey in your lap as you read aloud to the little pup.

Every room, every space, he could see your lives happening.

“Can you call the realtor in the morning?” He suddenly asked as you explained the specifications of the apartment.

“You want me to?” You asked, looking toward him, meeting his smile with your own.

“I love it,” he told you, you scrunching your nose before discarding the laptop to the bottom of the bed, promptly crawling onto your boyfriend’s lap as you kissed all around his face in excitement and happiness.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” you repeated between kisses, the man giggling as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“I love you so much, Petal,” he replied. “I love our life.”

He truly did. And he loved your future. No matter what it brought, he already loved it. Because it was yours, together.

265 notes · View notes

not-xpr-art · 4 years ago

Text

Art Advice #3 - Drawing tips!

Hi everyone!

As you may know, every week or so I’m writing blog posts with art advice hints and tips for artists of any skill level in the hopes of helping some people out a bit! The tag is here so feel free to check out some of my other posts!

This week’s post is going to be some drawing tips I’ve picked up over the years that could hopefully be useful for beginner artists!

(this is about 1800 words altogether btw)

Drawings tips!

I’m going to split this post up into little sections which will hopefully make it easier for you to scroll to find certain advice you’re particularly interested in!

Part 1 - How to get started?

I’m a firm believer that anyone can be an artist, regardless of what materials or equipment they have. So when it comes to my advice on what kind of materials I recommend for beginner artists, I’d mainly say ‘whatever you have’.

But if that’s a bit vague, I’d essentially recommend you have a set of pencils which you can usually get relatively inexpensive online or in craft/art shops which range from 6B all the way to 6H (’B’ being for softer, darker pencils, often good for shading, and ‘H’ for the harder pencil leads which are best for much lighter shading or if you want a really faint sketch. Something important to note about ‘H’ pencils is not to press too hard with them since they’re a lot more likely to leave indents in the paper than ‘B’ pencils! For general sketching I personally use 2B or 3B pencils since they have the perfect balance of soft & hardness in my opinion!)

Of course, you can just draw with whatever pens or pencils you already have, so definitely don’t feel you have to go out of your way to buy something new or expensive just because your favourite artists use a particular brand of pencil or pen... Of course, often higher quality pens or pencils (especially colouring pencils) will have better pigment payoff than the cheaper alternatives, but as someone who’s been using the same WHSmith pencils they got when they were a child, I definitely think that as long as you have something to draw with, you’re all set to produce masterpieces of your own!

A lot of my art education got us using charcoal for a lot of our drawing practise. It’s not a medium I’m particularly fond of personally, but it is a great way to practise being a lot quicker and expressive with drawing, so definitely if you’re up for the challenge you can try some charcoal stuff! Only piece of advice is that I wouldn’t really recommend those ‘charcoal pencils’ you can buy in some shops, since they mostly just break apart every time you try and sharpen them... Regular charcoal is messy, though, and smudges very easily, so if you are interested in using it I’d say to do a little bit of research before hand!

(Or feel free to send me an ask if you want any further advice on using it!)

If you’re wanting to get into digital art, I’m planning on making a post discussing my tips for beginners to digital so... keep an eye out for that in the near future lol!

Part 2 - Getting over ‘Drawing Anxiety’

Drawing can be a daunting thing, particularly when artists who are already pretty good at it can seemingly produce a perfectly proportioned face out of thin air. But these artists weren’t magically born with this skill, of course, so with practise and some perseverance, I can assure you that you’ll be at that stage one day!

So my first piece of advice here is to be patient with yourself. Don’t expect yourself to be perfect straight away.

Second piece of advice is to sketch constantly!! I notice a lot of people who haven’t been drawing long are really careful about how they draw, almost like they’re afraid to be rough with the pencil. So I’d really recommend just starting to sketch a lot: be rough, be messy, draw things you can see and things from your imagination!

Observational drawing is another thing I think is crucial in improving your drawing skills (and I’ll go into more detail with this in a bit), but honestly just sketching things you like is such a great way to help you grow as an artist! And yes this includes drawing anime fanart or drawings of your original characters!

Below is some comparisons of my attempts at drawing Freema Agyeman from 2013 to 2019... Is the latest version of this perfect? Of course not. But I just want to show what constant practise can achieve!

Part 3 - Observational drawing

I honestly think that observational drawing was one of the most important things I learnt in my years of art education.

Observational drawing can take on many meanings. Perhaps it’s drawing a still life of a fruit bowl, or a life drawing class with a naked dude in front of you, or even drawing from a photo. The point of observational drawing is to improve how you translate the world around you onto a 2D surface, essentially.

And you don’t need anything fancy to do observational drawing either! Just placing an array of things in front of you and trying to sketch them (try and focus on a mix of textures and surfaces for the objects. So, for example, including a cup along side a woolly hat will help you get a handle on how to create texture with your drawing, and drawing anything with a reflective surface like cutlery is both challenging and interesting to do! Basically just use what you have around you!)

If you’re lucky (or unlucky, depending on how fond you are of seeing naked people lol) enough to have the chance to do life drawing, I would honestly recommend it! Often the final results aren’t great, but it’s a really good way of practising your observational skills! And even if you don’t have the opportunity, just trying to sketch a friend or family member from across a room, for example, is something that can really help you improve!

Top tip: a teacher once told me that when you’re drawing something like a face, for example, a way to improve how you draw is to see the face not as a ‘face’, but instead as a collections of shapes. Because our brains have a preconceived idea of what a face looks like that we end up drawing what we think we can see rather than what we can actually see!

There’s a lot of art snobs who believe that drawing from reference images is ‘cheating’ in comparison to life drawing, Of course, this is bs, and I’d say I’ve learnt just as much from using reference photos for the basis of my art as I have from drawing from ‘real life’. For more information about my thoughts on references and how to use them, see This post!

Part 4 - Drawing from references: Tracing, Grids and Freehand (which is best?)

Tracing in the world of art is a ... Contentious subject to say the least. And I’m not really interested in getting into the ‘moral’ implications of whether it is ‘cheating’ or not.

Instead I want to focus on the pros of using something like tracing when you’re starting out. I think particularly if you’re trying to improve how you shade things, colour things or how to get better at blending, then I do think that tracing can be a useful tool! Even I used tracing in the very start of my delve into digital art, but soon found that tracing wasn’t really something that was helping me in the long run so moved onto freehand stuff.

Overall, I think tracing is good as a starting point when you’re still learning about art, and also if you’re not too comfortable with your freehand drawing skills yet. I’d also recommend you mention if you have traced a piece if you share art to social media. Of course, no one is obligated to do this though!

This is an example of an artwork that I traced (it’s from 2013, hence why it looks... like That lol)

But if you’re someone who perhaps has used tracing in the past and found it doesn’t really work for you, or if you don’t want to start with tracing at all, then a good ‘next step’ I’ve seen other artists get into is using grids.

Now I have to admit, I’m not the best person to talk about grids since I’ve actually never used them lol... But I know a lot of artists who do, particularly people who do a lot of traditional work, since it makes it a lot easier to translate the reference image to your piece of paper or canvas.

And in a way I would recommend grids more for people starting out in drawing than tracing, and this is mainly due to the fact grids force you to use a lot more observational drawing skills than tracing! If you’re interested in getting into using grids I’d recommend doing a bit of research yourself!

The final technique of drawing from references I want to talk about is freehand! Now this is the one I’ve been doing for the majority of my art ‘career’ and honestly is probably the most ‘difficult’ to do of the three techniques.

But I find freehand drawing particularly rewarding with the ways it can make you reimagine an artwork in ways you never intended! Like what I mentioned in my Reference advice post, I have found that making ‘mistakes’ in freehand drawing can actually lead to more interesting and unique works of art than tracing or grid work could ever do!

I also think that freehand allows you to create your own characters or concepts in a much more free way. For example, my Spirit of Somerset piece was something I created from a variety of references (I seem to remember I used Isak from SKAM’s mouth as a basis for the girls’ mouth?) and the dragon was based on a real mishmash of references, which is something that I I feel I couldn’t have done if I’d have been using grids or tracing!

With this I’m not trying to say that freehand is the ‘best’ way of drawing, it is just the one that I personally have found to fit me the best, which is the entire point of this post! All of my advice is just pointers I think could be useful for new artists, it is up to you to find which ‘path’ in art suits you best!

And of course, I’ve phrased these techniques as separate purely for the sake of explaining them easier, but the fact of the matter is that you can use a combination of these in your art if you wish!

If you struggle with drawing the outlines of hands, perhaps use tracing as a way to get a handle of the shape and then maybe use freehand to fill in the colour of them! Use a grid to draw a tree but freehand the leaves and bench below it!

Remember that your art is your art, and no one can tell you how to draw things!

I think I’ll leave this here for now! But I may do a part two at some point in the future! & my ask box is always open for anyone who wants any specific advice!

I really hope you found this at least moderately helpful, and a massive thank you to everyone for the constant support of these posts and my art!

#art advice #drawing #drawing tips #art advice for beginners #drawing advice #artists on tumblr #art #i SWEAR i am trying not to ramble in these i just... have a lot to say lol

54 notes · View notes

freddiefcknmercury · 4 years ago

Text

A Promise(part 2)- Crimson & Clover

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader(Black coded/Genderless)

Word Count: 2.7+

Warnings/Disclaimer: SMUT. ANGST. cursing. mild depression/heart-ache. etc etc. if something needs to be tagged please lemme know.

A/N: LOL I'm back on my bullshit yall. heavy angst/depression from the previous Steve centered storyline so if you haven't read "You really think I didn't know?" I'll do some magic linky links here and at the bottom just in case. Also I'm trying something kinda different with the way I post the fics so feedback is welcome.

ALSO this one comes with a tiny playlist! there are Bolded lyrics throughout if you want to get a deeper sense of where I was emotionally writing this and where reader is as well you can Def give these songs a listen, they are in order of appearance:

Crimson & Clover- Tommy James & The Shondells

Every Time I Breathe- Arlissa

Navy Blue - Hasani

Summary: Bucky takes an extended leave for "work" related reasons and reader slips back into some dark places in his absence...

~*As always, be Nice to me I’m Delicate*~

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

He said he might be gone most of the week. Sam called the day before and all you know is it's something important. He didn't go into detail, just packed a bag and you'd never seen him do that before. But he was also only gone a day or two at a time and never felt the need to tell you about it before now either.

Up until recently you'd tip-toe around each other. Not like you used to with Steve though, worse. Bucky is a lot better at making sure you don't know he's there until it's too late. It felt like you'd never get used to each other, or more likely that you'd never want to. You might've still been secretly hoping that he'd stop caring and go away... after a while you got tired of your own bullshit and realized he's giving off that vibe on purpose. Wordlessly telling you how you should feel about him, not wanting to get too close. You never much liked being told what to do.

It was only about two months before you became a Barnes' expert. You'd sit up at night listening intently for when he'd shower, get in bed, or wake up. He never slept more than five maybe six hours at a time, you'll never understand how he can function like that. You know how he likes his coffee, which angle he holds his cup. How and where he takes off his shoes, how much ice he puts in a drink, the way he likes to cut his toast, and what time he has to do all of it. There's an almost unnerving pattern to him, one that's always been there and you were just unwilling to notice for so long, and you're not sure if he's even aware of it.

You woke up to him already gone. You knew he was leaving but actually being left alone like that unsettled you more than you anticipated, a serious case of Deja vu. You went into your routine like normal, because everything still was, but by the fifth day... you stepped into the front room and got that empty feeling. One you hadn't really had since...

It stopped you for a few seconds longer than you liked and a large knot formed in your stomach. You spent the whole day trying to ignore the feeling but it only got worse. Like a hunger pain but much more vague, crawling through each muscle. You'd catch yourself staring at his room, Bucky's room but also... Steve's. It's the first time you let yourself admit to him fully crossing your mind in over a year.

You laid up in bed, trying to count the metaphorical sheep to no avail. Getting up thinking that a snack or a warm drink will stop the restlessness, you pause in the tiny hallway shared by your bedrooms. The low blue light from the moon outside dustily illuminating the space through a cloudy bathroom window. You stare at the door like any second he's going to ask what you're doing up so late and you can tell him to mind his own business while pouring two cups of tea.

You just wanted to touch the knob; turn it to make sure it still works- that you're still "allowed in there if you want". But stepping inside was too far, an invasion of Bucky's privacy, and you felt it. But you couldn't help yourself. You needed to know.

They were definitely cut from the same cloth. Sparse furnishings and no decorations, save a few very small trinkets he'd held onto from who knows where. There is exactly one row on his bookshelf filled with composition notebooks that were beat to hell and back. Sticky notes lined the edge of most of the pages, so much so that they easily could've been mistaken for feathers on a quick glance. You dare not touch them. Observing someone with a past that checkered is very different to reading into the things they deem worthy of physically writing down.

Where Steve used to leave small drawings and notes Bucky left half empty ink pens and a few well used pairs of gloves. You saunter to the far corner of the room and caress a worn leather jacket hanging precariously on the lowest peg of a coat rack. Doing a slow sweep of the space something in the otherwise barren closet catches your eye. The knot in your stomach that had almost disappeared was back and it brought friends. Your shirt. His shirt. The big one that said BROOKLYN across the front, what you didn't know was your "going away gift." The one you balled up and shoved in the top corner of his closet, at the time hoping you'd never look at it again. You're amazed that it's still here, that Bucky hadn't tossed it out or tried to give it back to you when he moved in.

So you put it on. You're still not sure why but you needed to wear it. To feel it drape over your skin, enveloping you in warmth and that beautiful clean familiar scent you... loved once. It sent a shiver down your spine. The knots in your stomach were gone but now there's one in your throat. You can feel the tears seated right behind your eyes. You sit on the bed holding your face pleading with the water to stay put but it's too late. You miss him. You hate to admit it, but it's true and it always has been. You're angry and you should be, you loved him- you thought he might've loved you. Pulling the hem of the shirt up you wipe the tears off your face and fall into a pillow, trying to calm yourself out of your rage unintentionally drifting into sleep.

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

You wake up to the sound of music in the kitchen.

...Ah, now I don't hardly know her, but I think I could love her...

You sit up quickly checking your phone: 11:34am. You'd fallen asleep in Bucky's room, in his bed. A blanket had been placed over you and a short scan of the room returned a brown leather duffel bag and set of black boots that weren't present last night. He'd come back early this morning and found you here. You can feel your heart fall straight out of your ass, the void that was left being filled with pure embarrassment. Is he angry? He did tuck you in...

As slowly and quietly as possible you make your way towards the door, poking your head out just enough to assess the situation. You can see his back in the kitchen, he's hovering over the sink. You notice the couch, the spare blanket and pillow from the bathroom closet folded neatly on one of the arm rests, he had to sleep there. The void gets deeper. You pull the door open just enough to slip out of and there's a quiet creak. Steve never did fix that, and you just figured out why.

Bucky didn't turn around but definitely noticed. He steps to the side, now in front of the stove and you here something crack and sizzle. You're not sure what to do here. You can try to apologies and explain but there's no un-embarrassing way out of this one. You fold your arms over your stomach trying to hold all your very delicate pieces together while you attempt to speak up. Finally reaching the bar and fully prepared to say good morning when he quickly sets a hot bowl down in front of you. White rice and a fried egg- runny yolk. You'd make it for breakfast when you'd get up early or couldn't sleep, a friend from school put you on to it. Looks like he's been studying you too. You make eye contact but, just briefly. From what little of the expression you get on his face nothing indicates that he's mad. But he hasn't said anything to the contrary either.

How was your trip? Dangerous I bet-sorry you couldn't come home and sleep in your own goddamn bed! Oh?! AND you made me breakfast!

You feel like a crazy person.

"Comfy last night?"

He's pouring himself some coffee, not yet turning your way. There's no hostility in his voice.

You chuckle nervously.

"Yeah.. sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it."

He sets a small glass of juice down in front of you. Heavy eye contact this time, but his expression is soft. He didn't ask for an explanation and you really didn't want to give him one. But you still feel guilt looming over you. You take the glass in both hands and nurse it.

He nods at you with a squint, taking a big sip of coffee.

"If I knew that was yours I would've given it back."

The shirt. You forgot you actually put it on. You hold your breath stroking the fabric gently. Contemplating your next words.

"It's not- well, not really."

He raises an eyebrow.

"It was a gift, so I guess it does belong to me..."

Glancing back down at it you can see him realize it says "Brooklyn." His expression changes to a knowing one and it reads like regret but he quickly tries to box it back up for you. This is a new move for him.

There's a much longer pause in conversation than either of you would like before he shifts his weight awkwardly.

"Sorry."

You push glass, now empty back across the bar towards him.

"Don't worry about it-"

You swivel in your seat quickly, taking your bowl and getting up to leave. He steps out from the kitchen after you.

"Thanks for breakfast."

The tears had been welling up and started to pour over as you left. You're still in no state to pretend to be a functioning person right now. Trying to save him from your ugly cry face by escaping but he grabs your shoulder gently suggesting you backwards.

You cover your mouth to hush a sob. You can see your chest start heave but there's nothing you can do to stop yourself. He grabs the bowl setting it down carefully, then you feel a warm metal sensation squeezing the back of your neck.

"You don't have to be over it."

He's been back a couple hours and already knows you're still a mess. You scoff, laughing at yourself really.

"What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing."

He whispered back quickly, exasperated, but tender.

You sniffle; pathetic.

"That's not how it feels."

"He fucked up. He just doesn't know it."

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders pulling you into his embrace.

It's nice to feel another person. A real solid human being; you can't remember the last time you hugged someone like this. You turn in his arms to face him. He looks tired. Not just 'had-to-sleep-on-an-old-couch' tired. Emotionally repressed. Maybe he has actually wanted to talk to you. He pulls you into him, it's just a hug but it almost hurt how sweet this was.

Then a thought came to you, not really sure how, you can't handle more rejection right now; but you kissed him anyway, hard. Like him being gone almost killed you- because it did. He pulls away from you, just a little, reading your face his own expressionless. You search his eyes for any kind of hint as to what's going on inside his mind. You're not ready to admit this was a mistake yet. There's no real way to know how long you stood there like that. You only dare to move after you hear the song change in the background.

Words... thought they just fade away

but hurt... gave them a place to stay

"Do something."

You were sure it was just in your head but it creaked out past your lips in less than a whisper, pleading with him.

He covered your mouth with his, smoothing both hands down your neck to your shoulders gripping them gently, intently. You cling to his waist almost afraid to explore anywhere else, then slowly drag nails along his back. He pulls you back into him, you want to fuse with the warmth radiating off of his body, he bends and you collide onto the floor with a muffled thud. He cradles your head quickly so you don't get hurt but you wouldn't care at this point.

The way you fit into each other is unnerving, like your bodies weren't meant for anybody else. You both scramble to undress him in between breathy wet kisses and he's... magnificent. He pulls off his shirt and you swiftly run fingers from his neck down each arm. The metal one is warm, this surprises you for some reason. You watch as each "muscle" dances at your touch and you catch a small glimpse of something on his face that resembles insecurity... or fear. He shelves it quickly in response to you bucking your hips up to dismiss your underwear.

He buries his face in your neck, warm breaths ghosting your skin. Hooking his hands behind your knees he hoists your legs up around his waist. He bites down gently and you gasp. It's too much. He's everywhere, all at once. The last person to touch you event remotely close to this was-

"...Steve."

It just came out, you almost didn't notice it. Bucky stops, pulling back and away. He scans you, a pitiful, panting mess on the floor. The most vulnerable you've probably ever been and definitely in front of him. He shakes his head slowly once, chest heaving.

"No."

Knots line your stomach once again. He grabs your wrist to hold your arms in place up above your head and presses his forehead against yours.

"Look at me."

You hold eye contact there for a solid minute, you're sure of it. He leans forward delicately dragging teeth against your ear.

"You're gonna keep saying it until you can't forget."

He drops his hips and lines up with your entrance. You feel a thick wash of euphoria from the pressure, throwing your head back as much as possible given the floor. You roll your hips along to his, cradling each other perfectly.

His eyes didn't leave your face until you both feel your legs begin to tremble.

"Oh Bucky."

The only words you can remember.

You feel every stroke hasten and all his muscles tighten each time his name falls from your lips. He pulls your shirt up to your neck looking to spatter kisses and bite marks across your torso. You futilely dig one set of nails into the floor and the other in his shoulder as he hungrily growls into your stomach, cursing, longing for mercy.

"Fuck."

You pull him back up to your face demanding his tongue. You hear the floorboard creek from the pressure of a metal hand, the flesh one surely bruising your hip by now. There's a deep enduring moan from the back of his throat as he finds his release inside you. You gasp at the sensation and you both pant into each other, nothing but a mess on the floor now.

He presses a long, firm kiss into the bridge of your nose then falls gently on his back beside you. You roll your head up to look at his face, whatever it is he's feeling isn't immediately obvious as he stares up at the ceiling. You shift onto your side placing a light, cautious hand on his chest and he glances over at you, reaching to squeeze your thigh reassuringly.

The sky is Navy Blue soon to be baby blue and baby you got nothing but time...

He looks over your face in a deep sigh before retiring his gaze to the ceiling.

"I don't know him... The guy that left you like that."

You watch intently has his jaw clenched, he's never been able to hide that bit very well.

"I don't know what kind of..."

He trails off, clearly upset.

You sigh deeply.

"I was gonna die that night."

He rolls his head back to look at you.

"The day I met him? I had pretty much made up my mind."

You start to fiddle with the hem of your shirt. Almost reminiscent.

"But he found me in the staircase..."

You hate how subtly he did some things. If you weren't lying next to him. There's no way you'd ever be able to tell his breathing had changed.

"Essentially-"

You pick your head up, chin on his sternum.

"He saved my life."

You state matter of factually. You watch his body relax in a short, bitter way.

He rolls his head over just enough to look you in the eyes. You kiss his chest once tenderly before moving to stand up. You extend a hand down for him to grab.

"That isn't good for your back."

"You really think I didn't know?" Part1

28 notes · View notes

tomthesoftie · 5 years ago

Text

laundry day

a/n: this took me like 2-3 hours to write - oops - i came up with this idea when i was drawing in my sketchbook, hopefully it’s good because it’s already 4 am lol

pairing: college!flirt!tom holland x nerdy!reader

warnings: foul language, kind of sexual not really, tom being a dick and a flirt, y/n has a shitty day, rip harry is such good friend

masterlist

pt.1 | pt.2

After a long day, you headed back to your dorm, taking a bath a soon as you got back. You had planned on going to the library to do some late night studying, or just reading, after your bath. Unfortunately, it was laundry day and you only had a white, cropped camisole and a short skirt, that was too short to be worn anywhere, left in your closet. You groaned having no other choice than to take those.

The day had been terrible for you. You had been assigned stacks on stacks of papers that were either due by the end of the week or 3 weeks, maximum. Then, when you were rushing to get your lunch, some ass cut in front of you and took at least 30 minutes to order, resulting in you not having any lunch and rushing to your class. After that class, you had 15 minutes to get to your next lecture, so you decided to get yourself a coffee. Thankfully, you were able to order this time with no interruption, but when you were walking to the lecture hall, a curly brunette “accidentally,” and harshly, bumped your shoulder, making you drop the coffee in your hand. You cried out, feeling your anger succumb your every emotion.

“Dude,” you exclaimed.

You were never the kind to fight back, but today had already been so shitty for you that you’d snapped.

The brunette grinned, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“My ass,” you rolled your eyes, clenching your fists at your side, “look, buddy, today has already been a very shitty day for me, so if you wouldn’t mind, at least sound sincere when you apologize for fucking spilling my only source of energy.”

“Sheesh, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” he laughed, not taking a single word you had said seriously.

“You know what? Just fuck off,” you stomped away, remembering that you still had to get to your next lecture.

He snickered behind you as you walked away, clearly finding amusement in your indignation.

That brings you to where you are now: heading to library in a skimpy outfit with a strap of your book bag clinging onto your right shoulder. By now it was 8 P.M. and you still hadn’t gotten any food to eat. Although your stomach was growling louder than a predatory animal sensing danger, you were determined to get to the only place you could seek peace: the library.

As you walked in, Harry, one of your close friends was eyeing you weirdly. He had volunteered to work at the library, seeing he could do his homework and study there, as well as get in a few aesthetic pictures.

“What are you wearing?” His eyebrows furrowed, scanning your outfit.

“Don’t judge, it’s laundry day and today fucking sucked,” you groaned loudly, knowing that no one would be at the library at such a late time of day.

Your stomach growled, “You got a lion in your shirt, or shall I say piece of fabric?”

“I haven’t eaten lunch or dinner at all today,” you slouched, dropping your bag to the floor, “got anything I could eat?”

“Of course, I got to have a snack or twenty if I’m going to be working till 10 P.M,” he handed you two large energy bars, “you’re gonna need it.”

“Thanks, you’re the best,” you pulled a chair over to the circulation desk, where Harry was seated.

“I know,” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes before grabbing you book bag, pulling out Pride and Prejudice, one of your favorites. You opened the book to the page you left off on and began reading. Harry had gone back to studying and taking pictures, mostly of you.

“Harry,” a voice boomed as it entered.

You had only gotten 45 minutes to read in peace. You mentally and probably physically banged your head with the book.

“Are you ready to go?” The voice continued.

As you listened closely, you realized you’d heard to voice before. You just couldn’t put your finger on who it was.

“I still have 1 hour left, Tom,” Harry stated.

You lifted your head in the direction of the familiar stranger. It was curly brunette, the one who had knocked your coffee out of your hand and given zero fucks about it.

“Who’s there, Harry?” you asked, staying hidden in your seat.

“Just my older brother, Tom. I don’t talk about him much ‘cause he’s a dick,” he said, raising his voice at the end, making sure Tom could hear him.

“Right, I’m the dick,” Tom mumbled to himself before snapping back, “call me another name and I won’t be giving you a ride home tonight. Also, who’s the girl?”

“Y/N, she’s my friend,” he replied, paying no mind to his brother.

Tom brought it upon himself to scope you out. He wandered through the isles of books and looked at all the seats in the library, finally finding you to be sitting with his brother. His eyes scanned your body, admiring the suddenly too tight tank top and short skirt on you.

“Hey, coffee girl,” he winked.

“You know Tom?” Harry glanced at you, confused.

“No, I don’t. I just know that he’s a douche who can suck and choke on his own dick,” you had tensed and your anger from the afternoon had started rising again.

“I’m sure you’d like to,” his stance not faltering.

“Son of a bitch,” you simply flipped him off, not wanting to put anymore effort into him than necessary.

He chuckled and brought a chair over to sit himself next to you. The warmth of his body was radiating off of him.

“Pride and Prejudice, a classic. I’ve never read it, though. Would you say the 2005 film was worthy of its positive reviews?” Tom tried to start a conversation, but you ignored him, scooting your chair away from his.

“C’mon, darling, if you’re still mad about the coffee, I can make it up to you,” this peeked your interest.

“How so?” You asked, placing your chin in the palm of your hand.

“You and me, tomorrow at 12 P.M, that french café near the garden. See you then?” He offered, arching his brow.

You sat silently, thinking about it, “Fine, but don’t think that this is a date.”

He grabbed a pen and post it, writing his contact information on it, “Whatever you want, princess.”

You snatched the paper out of his hand and began packing your bags. Forgetting that you were wearing practically a strip of fabric around your waist, you bent over and grabbed your bag, giving Tom a great view of your ass and the black, lace panties you wore.

Harry cleared his throat, “Y/N, your skirt.”

Your eyes widened in realization, “Oh shit, sorry.”

You stood up straight, pulling the skirt down as far as possible and started to head out before a voice stopped you.

“Also, feel free to wear that tomorrow,” Tom winked one last time before letting you walk away.

Your face was burning red and you couldn’t help but let your giggle slip through your lips. You were sure gonna wear this tomorrow.

305 notes · View notes

acetechne · 4 years ago

Note

I really love your art! While both mediums that you used are amazing I am fascinated by your traditional art! I was wondering what supplies do you use? I think you watercolour for colouring instead of gouache since it looks much thinner but I could be wrong.

Hi there! I’m so glad you like it :D

I’ve been neglecting traditional art a lot since I’ve moved all around the country in the past three years, so some pieces might look vastly different than others because I have access to different spaces and materials at different times. Tbh, I reaLLLY would like to get some gouache, it’s just that I have been living out of a suitcase while I was in school and wasn’t able to get any ;;

The Secret

GENERALLY however........... my secret is that I’ve been using the same watercolour palette I’ve had since high school :’ ) and I dont know what brand it is because the transparent lid literally fell off and vanished ages ago, it was something that my art teacher had picked out.

(As you can see, my yellow is almost completely gone which is a Huge Problem because I use yellow as a base for a lot of things Especially skin tones. It’s great to have other colours, but a lot of art i do relies on just mixing the three primary colours.)

Most watercolour art I do is using this palette, like this or this or this. Since I brought it with me while I was studying in Toronto, nearly all of the art I’ve done in the past three years with some exceptions has been done with this old boi. I wish I knew what it was because I’m going to have to replace it eventually... I’m back home now so if the art stores here still carry it, I can investigate.

(THIS GOT LONG SO I HAVE SOME MORE SUPPLIES AND RELATED THOUGHTS UNDER THE CUT) (feel free to ask for clarification on anything) (And if you ever need watercolour tips I cannot recommend Watercolour by Shibasaki enough, the man is a god, LISTEN to when he says to use a Big Brush he Means it)

Pricier Stuff

The great thing about watercolour is it’s a cheap and highly accessible medium. If you want strong pigments that last for years, by all means please get something a little pricier. I use a Sakura Koi field set for painting outside or in cafes, like this, this or this or even doing comics like this. Although its great for small paintings, a lot of stuff I do with these tends to turn out a bit washed out because I’m Afraid of using too much pigment which I have to get over. Also, Daniel Smith gives you rich, buttery colours and you don’t need very many tubes to get a gorgeous range of colours and you can even get a “dot card” which is like a little paper palette with a few smears of paint on it for a more affordable price. My tubes have been in storage until just a few weeks ago, so I don’t really have many examples of using them... but I think I used them here. (I even had some dried up paint on my palette when i got back and used it for this and look how rich and vibrant that blue is after sitting dried up in storage for three years).

The Secret... Part Two

However like i said, the brilliant thing about watercolour is its affordability and accessibility. Whether you prefer tubes or pans, you’ll probably find something in your price range thats easy to use and gets you the results you want as long as you practice. I have a set of Staedtler student watercolour tubes I haven’t used much yet that I picked up on a student sale ages ago (art stores, especially ones near art schools, sometimes have discounts for students of all ages at the start of the school year). But you know, if you just want to add a pop of colour to a page in your sketchbook and you’re not too worried about something fading, use that old crayola set from kindergarten! I mean it! If you have one around, dig it up and play with it. This is Crayola, and so is this and this and this! Kids paint works a little differently than other paints (and it fades like HELL if you leave it in the sun, so dont hang it on your wall too long), but it’s great for confidence boosting and livening up your sketches (or drawing attention away from sketches you dont want people looking at lol)

PAPER!!!!!!!!!!

You can get away with using dollar store paints to make good watercolour. You can’t get away with using copy paper. If you have to spend money somewhere, spend it on good paper.

Great news: Canson XL Mixed Media sketchbooks are cheap, come in all different sizes, AND THEY ARE AWESOME!!!! There are haters out there (including Quatsch, who much prefers the Strathmore Soft Covered Art Journal). The paper crinkles because it’s not as durable as Actual watercolour paper, but its fantastic for practicing and putting a light wash on other types of drawings. I love it.

Other stuff I use

- INK: Most of my inking has been done with Staedtler Fineliners. These are good quality pens, especially for technical drawing, because you can paint over them no problem, they dont get mutilated by erasing, and they draw crisp straight lines. However, they don’t angle or turn corners super naturally like a Fabercastell might, even if they are more durable and leave stronger marks. I only just started using Sakura Microns (which I’ve coveted for a long time) and as long as you are gentle with them, I think they’re the best of both worlds.

- TEXTURE: You’ll notice a lot of my art has pencil crayon (CoLoReD PEnCiLs, sorry Americans) on top because i like to beef up the colour and detail. You can use pretty much any kind for this, but I use Laurentians which sadly are no longer produced even though they were THE staple, default pencil crayon brand for Decades in Canadian schools. If you’re lucky enough to find any, hold on to them!

- WHITE: Uniball signo white gel pen babyyyyyyyy

- BRUSHES: I don’t... know, i got my acrylic brushes from high school and I just pick up a watercolour brush or four whenever I feel the need, you can’t really go wrong here. I use waterbrushes for travel which are good as long as you keep them clean (because stagnant water Will go mouldy so don’t leave it in there)

- OTHER: When I get tea from a take out place I sometimes save a paper cup or two and wash them out after i finish, they’re handy for water. I also use glass jars for pesto that I’ve cleaned out because the lids make them easier to sneak into school xD Use one for clean water and one for dirty water P L ea Se

GO FORTH AND CREATE!!!!!!!! Especially now that there’s more hours of sunlight, it’s night to sit outside or in a window and do some painting.

#hapo replies #this took me like a whole hour to write i got excited #art reference #watercolour #art advice #roniebuttercups #IM SORRY MY PALETTE IS SO GROSS IT LITERALLY HAS MY HAIR STUCK IN IT

10 notes · View notes

desiraypark · 4 years ago

Text

The Weight (Pt. I)

Clyde x Sherri (Non-Linear Series) This entry is in response to @aloneandsleepless‘ prompt request! The message reads: Hey Desi darling! Can we have a little drama with Clyde and Sherri? Requesting "being physically/emotionally vulnerable" from the Non Sexual Forms of Intimacy list! You're so incredibly creative, I'm sure you'll come up with something amazing! ❤️ First of all, thank you *cries*. Second, I hope this meets your expectations! :) Content: Angsty? | Sadness/depression (denial of depression); impostor’s syndrome; ageism (imposed on self because it’s imposed by society, tbh lol); couple’s spat; spouse approaching the other but the appropriateness and effectiveness of the method might be debatable. A lil’ bit o’sap. Word Count: 2,402

“The llllittle...boy licks to...likes to b...ah...ck...” “Vroom, vroom...!” Sherri looked away from her pan and glanced in the dining room at the children. Chris’ face was inches away from their homework, and Sid had turned the dining table into a freeway for their toy car.

“What are your ‘a’ sounds?” Sherri asked. “Ah, ah...” Chris said. “And the other one?” “Ay...” “Did you try the other sound?” Chris looked back down at the worksheet. “B-ay-kuh...bake...” Sherri looked back at the pan. “Good job. Start it from the beginning.” “The little boy likes to bake...” “Vroooooooooom...” “...he licks...likes...” “Sid?” Sherri called. “Yes?” “Can you play quietly so Chris can concentrate?” “Yes, Mommy. Sorry.” “It’s alright. Thank you.” Sid turned the vocal engine off and drove the car in silence. Suddenly, there was a rumble at the front door. The lock turned and the kids hopped up from the table and ran through the living room.

“Daddy!” they shouted.

Clyde opened the door and scooped both of the little ones up in his arms. “Arrrgh!” he growled, holding them up. “What’s goin’ on?” he asked. He planted kisses on both of their foreheads and put them back down. “Ms. Daniels gave us homework today!” Chris exclaimed. “Oh yeah?” “Long sentences!” “Well, alright, my lil’ Einstein,” Clyde said. The trio made their way into the dining room, but the kids sat back at the table. Clyde walked straight for the kitchen and Sherri gave him her cheek to kiss. “Mmm...” he hummed. “Those lips taste as good?” Sherri smirked and faced Clyde so he could give her a peck on the lips. Then another. And another. “Eww!!!” the children said. “Eww?!” Clyde mocked them. “What y’all mean eww?” Sherri and the kids laughed. Then, Clyde rested his hands on Sherri’s protruding belly. He gave it a rub. “Now what you got to say about it, Littlest One?” “It said, please don’t keep mommy up tonight...” Sherri mumbled. “Well, I can’t make no promises on that...” Clyde whispered in her ear, before giving the lobe a nibble. “Leave my kitchen, Clyde,” Sherri said giggling. Clyde gave her butt a tap and walked into the dining room. “What’s this homework about?” he asked, sitting beside Chris. “Different stuff,” the oldest responded. Clyde adjusted his glasses by the hinge and looked over the homework--a sheet full of short sentences.

“You or Mommy are supposed to draw lines under the stuff I said wrong,” Chris added. “Is that so?” Clyde read the instructions and realized that either he or Sherri had to underline any words Chris had gotten wrong, or didn’t self-correct. So far, only the word “fluffy” had a line under it. Clyde smiled at the sight. “Underline bake, Baby.” Sherri said. Clyde searched the table and noticed the red ink pen resting against the table’s centerpiece. He underlined “bake”. “Hey, Babygirl...?” Clyde called over his shoulder. “Mm-hmm?” Sherri responded. “A man came into the restaurant this afternoon. He started a non-profit education center. Supposed to help kids with all kinds of needs. I uh...I got his card for you.” Sherri froze for a second, then kept cooking. “For what?” “He’s lookin’ for people to join his team. It’s very new. He wants people from different backgrounds helpin’ him out...” Sherri didn’t say anything. She turned off the stove and reached into the cupboard for plates. “Okay.” _____________________ Later “What’s this you were telling me about? About this man?” Sherri asked, walking into the bedroom.

Clyde was already in bed with a book. Sherri grabbed a bottle of cocoa butter lotion from her dresser and sat on the bed. “He started a non-profit company for kids with special needs. Behavioral, academic. Kids with problems at home, anything. He said he wanted to hire a few reading tutors...” Sherri began to rub the lotion on her belly. The circular motions soothing her emotionally, as well as physically. “He said you didn’t need a formal education. It wouldn’t pay much now, but it would be a great experience.” Sherri let out a wry laugh. “So, you told a stranger in a restaurant that your dropout wife was looking for a low-paying job?” Clyde stared at the back of Sherri’s head with furrowed brows. “No, I said I would tell my wife about it, and see if she’s interested.” Sherri closed the lotion’s cap and put it back on her dresser. “Well, thank you for thinking of me, Baby. But I’m good...” She yanked back her covers and climbed into the bed. “But are you, though, Baby?” Clyde asked. Sherri was just about to turn on her side before she glared back at him. “What do you mean?” she asked. “It ain’t no secret that you regret not settin’ out to be in education, Babygirl. I thought this would be a good way to get you back on track. But I guess I was wrong,” Clyde said. Sherri turned on her side and laid down. “Yeah, you were. I don’t need you job huntin’ for me.” Clyde looked down at his book. He tried to keep reading, but Sherri’s response was eating away at him. He took in a deep breath. “So, you just wanna be a receptionist for the rest of your life, Sherri?” He didn’t have to see her face to know what it looked like. Slowly, Sherri turned on her back and sat completely up. “What is this about, Clyde? Are you ashamed of me all of a sudden?” she asked. Clyde huffed, then closed his book. “No...” he answered. “But I know when you’re feeling sad, Baby. And I know you’ve been real sad these last few months.” “First of all, don’t tell me when I’m sad. I’m not sad. I’m not depressed or any of that. And even if I was, that doesn’t have shit to do with my job...”

“Sherri...” Clyde said patiently. “You can deny it all you want to. But you know and I know that you ain’t happy where you are.” “I am happy!” Sherri snapped. “What are you talking about?!” “You like your job, Sherri. But you ain’t happy,” Clyde continued on. “You regret not finishin’ school, Baby. It’s all over your face. You think you’re hidin’ it from me, but you’re not. You never have. And denyin’ it hasn’t made it better.” Sherri scoffed. “Please, Clyde. You don’t know what I’m hidin’ and what I’m not. Whatever the case may be, I’m halfway through my life, now. I’m damn near 40 years old, I’ve got two kids--almost got three. I’ve got to run around after three kids--” “Stop usin’ our kids as a crutch, Sherri.” Sherri’s eyebrows lifted. She was speechless. Clyde wasn’t as mild and meek as people assumed he was, but he’d never drilled into anyone like this before. Especially Sherri. He had the patience of a saint, and Sherri could tell that the patience had suddenly started wearing thin. But so was hers. “You my therapist now, Clyde?” Clyde drew in a deep breath. “No, I’m not. But I am your husband. And I know you better than I know the back of my own hand.”

“And look here. I don’t appreciate you sittin’ up here talkin’ like you the only one takin’ care of our kids...” “That’s not what I said. And it’s not what I meant, either,” Sherri responded.

“Whatever you meant, there ain’t nothin’ stoppin’ you from goin’ back to school, but you. I tell you about a potential job in your field, and you up in here actin’ like I stole somethin’ from you,” Clyde fussed. “I just don’t understand where this is comin’ from. Our life is just fine right now. Since when did you start feelin’ like it wasn’t good enough? Suddenly it’s so bad that you need to go job scoutin’ for me?” “Ain’t nobody say all that, Sherri. Yes, our life is just fine. It’s real nice. But you ain’t no “just fine” kinda girl. You ain’t never been,” Clyde said.

“Everything about you is excellent, but when it comes to stuff like this--your dream, you start actin’ real cowardly.”

Sherri stared at Clyde and huffed. “Look. Whatever the case, Clyde. I don’t need you bein’ my reference. I don’t need you recommendin’ jobs for me. You worry about what you’ve got goin’ on, and I’ll take care of what I’ve got goin’ on.” Clyde nodded. “Alright.” He put his book on the nightstand and took off his bionic arm. He put the arm on his dresser, climbed back in bed, and turned off the lamp on his nightstand. Then, he slid down and pulled the covers over him.

“You ain’t got to worry about me sayin’ another thing,” he added. “Gon’ and pass that impostor’s syndrome down to our baby.” Sherri didn’t give his statement a chance to marinate in the air.

“I think you should sleep on the couch,” she said without hesitation, or a even a thought. And Clyde didn’t argue. He climbed out of the bed, grabbed his pillows, and walked out of the room with them. He dug through the linen closet for a blanket, and curled into a ball on the little chaise of their sectional. ____________________ The Next Day As she did every weekday morning, Sherri got up at 4:30AM. The scent of oatmeal soap still strong from last night’s shower, she gave herself a quick wipe down at the sink, then got Sid up. She helped Sid take care of their personal needs, and got them dressed. Per usual, mother and future middle child got a quick bite and made their way to the Busy Bees Daycare. Every week day, Sherri oversaw the front desk of the daycare and helped to keep an eye on all of the children, including her own. Every week day--even on Mondays when he didn’t work--Clyde woke up and got Chris and himself ready. They too, sat at the table for a quick bite--cereal, usually. Then, Clyde would walk Chris to school. Today was a work day, so he hung out at home for about for about 45 minutes before making the seamless fifteen (or twenty, depending on his mood) minute drive to Strafford’s Kitchen. Today was definitely a “twenty minute drive to work” kind of day. Sherri always got off at 2 o’clock. Her and Sid would head home and hang out until it was time to pick Chris up. They’d walk to the school, chat with Chris’ teacher, and make their way back home to start homework and dinner. When Clyde was off, he would start dinner while Sherri and Sid walked to get the eldest Logan child. Sherri had spent her day snatching every chance at mental solitude she could find. Clyde didn’t know what he was talking about. She was happy at Busy Bees. Had been for seven years. And more importantly, it was too late for her to consider going back to school. Especially with the cost of tuition nowadays.

“What’s on your mind, Sherri Pie?” Mrs. Barbara asked. She’d snatched Sherri out of a daze. “Hmm?” Sherri asked. “Everything alright?” Sherri forced a smile and nodded. “Yes, everything is fine.” Mrs. Barbara raised an eyebrow at her and Sherri laughed. “Me and the husband had a little spat, that’s all.” “Hmm,” Mrs. Barbara said with a nod. “And you know what Mrs. Barbara?” Sherri asked. “What?” she responded. She peeped into the commons space to get a look at the children, then back at Sherri. “I just might owe that man an apology.” Mrs. Barbara laughed. “Well, wives can be wrong sometimes, believe it or not. What was the argument about? If you don’t mind me asking...” Sherri shook her head and rolled her eyes--at herself, of course. “He started talking to me about going back to school, and things like that...and I got really defensive, I think.” “You think?” Sherri sighed again. “I did.” “Do you want to go back to school?” Mrs. Barbara asked. “It would be nice, but it would just be too much right now. With Sid and Chris, and this one...” “Well, I’m gonna stop you right there, Sherri,” Mrs. Barbara said. “It would be nice sounds like you want to go...” “...yeah, well...” “You’ve got us. You’ve got your neighbors. And from what I know of Clyde, that man would put the world on his shoulders for you if he could. You’ve got more support than a lot of people in this world...” Sherri chuckled to herself. “Clyde said something along those lines.” “Well...” Mrs. Barbara said, peeping into the commons space again. “If Clyde and I mirror each other’s thoughts, then he must be right.” Mrs. Barbara winked and walked back into the commons area. Sherri just smiled to herself. ____________________ Sherri and Sid returned home at about 2:30. “Can I watch TV, Mommy?” Sid asked. “Sure, baby,” Sherri said. She put her purse on the coffee table, turned on the television and flipped straight to PBS. Then, she made her way to the kitchen to hang her keys on the HOME hook. A familiar greeting card was sitting on the counter. On the front, it said “For You, Just Because. Blood rushed to Sherri’s cheeks, and she opened the card.

Her handwriting was on the right side, and read: Honeybunch, I love you and I appreciate you. Thank you for loving me and taking care of me. I know you’re feeling down now, but I want you to know that I’m always here, and I want to take care of you just as much as you do me. Love You, Sherri New handwriting was on the left side of it: 10/12/2027 Babygirl, I love you with ever fiber of my being. And I’ll never stop taking care you. No matter how much you take on, be it a little or a lot, I’m always going to carry it all with you. I just want you to be happy. And I want you to believe in yourself just as much as I do. If not more. Love You More, Honeybunch Butterflies fluttered in Sherri’s belly. She gave her little bump a rub and read Clyde’s message one more time before closing the card. Then, she walked into the living room, joined Sid on the sofa, and pulled the raven-haired middle child into her arms. “Goodness, I can’t believe Arthur is still comin’ on...” she said. ____________________ TAG LIST @aloneandsleepless @direnightshade @finn-ray-nal-beads @a-true-janian-reply @thegreenmatt @sister-winter73 @loewsy55 @mariesackler @clydes-hole @sydneyssmut @kirah36 @lovelyyandtired @morby @tsarinastorm @clydes-hole Tag List request post

#clyde x sherri #The Distant Future #the weight

29 notes · View notes

ds-ts-smut-fics · 4 years ago

Text

Cave Boys [Chapter One]

Edit: Please tell me if the ‘read more’ isn’t working because this is the third time I tried adding it in and on our blog, it shows, but when I see it on my dash it isn’t there. I’m really sorry if it’s still not working.

Synopsis: While exploring, Logan finds an unknown cave. He’s too curious for his own good and wanders inside, only to be kidnapped by monsters and taken to their civilization as a prize to be sold to the highest bidder.

Genre: Logan-centric whump with a happy ending for all, NSFW, romantic intrulogical, parental loceit, parental logicality, romantic moceit, background romantic prinxiety

Trigger warnings (for the entire fic): Angst and whump, blood, gore, kidnapping, monsters, human in a cage, human in a collar, human on a leash, I think maybe technically body horror?, implied unsympathetic Janus, implied unsympathetic Virgil (neither of them is unsympathetic they’re both just assholes lol), human slavery, human being treated as property, human up for sale, threats, eventual non-con, lots of bullying, poverty

Trigger warnings (for this chapter): Traps, ankle injuries, knives that go unused, suicidal speech, talk of a person ‘fading’ (very briefly and it doesn’t happen), arguing and insults, implied poverty

Word count: 6171

Written by: Claire and Virgil

Edited by: Virgil

A/N: Hi, I played Janus and if you ask me where his personality comes from, I have no answer ~Mod Virgil

When Logan was upset, he explored the forest by his house.

The woods spread over hundreds of miles. They were covered in towering pines, ground in thick moss and large boulders. There were plenty of places of interest marked out and documented— Hot springs, caves, clearings, ponds.

Logan had visited all of them.

It got to the point where he merely wandered, focusing on landmarks instead of the people who upset him, who had once again let him down. After all, he had to be able to find his way home. A few times he got lost in the forest for longer than desired.

He was several hours into his hike, in a direction he had never been before, when he came across an undocumented cave. He checked every centimetre of his map- The one he updated every night -but no one knew of its existence.

Humming, he flicked on his light, circling the area just in case, and making a note of the find in his journal before stepping in carefully, eyes wide with wonder. “Stupendous…."

The entrance of the cave was made of high ceilings and jagged walls covered in moss. The gurgling of running water from somewhere to his left echoed through the room, and straight across, through a narrow crack in the wall, was something… Glowing. Glittering, even, shining with purple, pink, yellow, and blue.

Gasping softly, he crept carefully towards the crack, a small shiver running down his spine. "Were I more superstitious, I would say this is a fairy ring or some nonsense… how does it shimmer like that though!” Reaching out, he slipped some gloves on to touch the nearest one, the darkest blue he’d ever seen.

It was… So warm. Warm and beautiful. What was this rock- No, crystal? If he got some of it back home, he could test it… He’d have to get through the crack to harvest some of it.

Leaning out a little further, he grunted. The moment he stumbled out of the crack, metal slid against metal, and as bars flipped upward to lock him in a claustrophobic cage, pain exploded in his ankle as something clamped around it. Cheers sounded nearby.

A terrified yelp spilled from his lips as he pushed and pulled at the metal. What’s going on?!

Thick, hairy hands curl around the bars of the cage, the metal screeching along the stone floor as Logan was hauled into the darkness.

“That’s four for me,” the voice closest to him grunts, “and none for you. Have you noticed that? I have.”

His hands flew to his ears. He quickly lost track of where he was, darkness and the long strides of whoever, or whatever, now had him, making it impossible. The screaming pain in his ankle had hardly subsided by the time the moving finally stopped. The only direction Logan was certain he went in was down. He started to realize why this place wasn’t marked on the map.

“Do him like the other humans, there should be an open spot close to the city,” the same voice ordered. “I’ll go update the books.”

His heart sunk. He flinched back as a long arm reached for him. The monster tugged at him even as he kicked with his unbound leg, fumbling in his pockets for his knife and swiping. “Get the hell away! Let me go!!”

The thing laughed gleefully as its slim form easily avoided his slashes. “You know,” it clamped down on Logan’s injured ankle, pain forming black spots in his vision, “those stupid crystal things were the best thing we’ve ever done for our jobs. Made things so much easier.”

Logan snarled, certain that if he could just get one hit in, it would be fine. Maybe he’d even wake up, bed sheets wrapped around his ankles instead of this millipede nightmare.

“If you don’t stop struggling,” it sang, “you’ll never be able to use that ankle again.” It squeezed tighter, digging the metal further into his flesh, Logan’s vision turning white.

He screamed and fell limp.

The thing dragged him forward by his ankle and slapped something against his neck. It crumpled and curled around like a collar, but the material was some type of metal Logan didn’t recognize. It almost… Harnessed heat. The longer it stuck to his skin, the more it burned, like holding your hand too close to fire without touching it.

It clipped a chain on the collar and dragged Logan across the dirt floor. Logan will never forget the things he saw as it led him further into the cave system.

It brought him down to an area with square holes cut in the walls, light seeping into the makeshift hallway. What could only be described as monsters peeked through the windows, watching Logan with expressions he couldn’t recognize. There was occasional hissing, chirping, incoherent English mumbling… But not a human in sight.

Slumped in the larger pen, he tried to put together what had happened for a long time after the creature left, he finally had looked down to see the bloody mess his ankle was, and the trap attached to it. It throbbed with his panicked heartbeat ever since he had given up getting it off.

“You’re such a bitch, you know that?”

An androgynous voice, sounding almost-human, echoed down the hall as two pairs of footsteps headed for his cage. Were they human? Were they going to save him?

Shifting to his feet, Logan carefully hopped back a little. A soft whine left his lips as he imagined the horror to come.

“What?! I’m a bitch?!” A louder tone answered, an almost trill to the end echoing off the cavern walls. “You!” The voice sputtered, as if trying and failing to defend itself. “You’re not even looking at me, fang boy!”

“I don’t have to look at you to know you’re a moron. You’ve tripped over more rocks than me, and I’m fucking blind.”

Two figures came into Logan’s vision. One of them was biped, and looked vaguely humanoid, but a long snout protruded from its face and in place of nails, long, black talons curled. They were sharp enough to slit Logan’s throat. The thing’s eyes, for what tiny slits they were, had no colour.

Gesturing with a broad swipe, the second figure proclaimed loudly, “So, I wanted to be fashionable and pretty for the new arrivals, Count Woe-laff! So sue me!"

“Count… Who?”

Logan gingerly hopped out of range of the claws and the cloak the louder one wore. It floated and fluttered, as if it sat on a tide. Eyes lifting to meet Logan’s, the loud one found a rock and went down hard. He squeezed out a pained breath.

The badger thing slapped a paw to its face, right above his snout. “God, you are such a moron.” It knelt down and wrapped a paw around the other’s wrist, and for a moment Logan thought those talons were going to draw blood, but the thing helped its counterpart up and patted its back roughly.

Huffing, it dusted off, just now noticing Logan. "So, I missed a safety measure or three. Did you see-? Oh! There’s a human!"

A deep rumble fell from the badger boy’s throat, presumably a laugh. “No, I don’t see. But do you know how I know anyway? Because I listen when we’re given orders.”

The two of them stopped in front of Logan’s cage. The badger held large, flat pieces of stone and ran a single talon along it. The nail wormed its way between all the grooves and indentations, face clenched in concentration.

“Logan?” It tried. “Did I say that right? You’re listed as male, is that correct?”

Mouth opening a few times, Logan managed after a few moments, "I… Yes? How do you know that?! I haven't… There weren’t any questions asked!”

“Everything I have here is first impressions, things our superiors could tell from sight. My name is Virgil, and the idiot back there is Roman. He uses he/him, I use they/them. What do you use?” They cocked their head towards Roman and mumbled, “Did I ask that correctly?”

Roman snorted softly. “I’m not an idiot, V!"

"Yes, a bit stiff and formal, but basically correct. I prefer he/him pronouns and my name is Logan. Why am I here? Can either of you get this device off of my leg?!” He balanced, using a part of the cage furthest from the two beings, uncertainty clouding his mind.

“You were unlucky,” Virgil answered, and then the rest of Logan’s words caught up with them. They snapped something in a language Logan didn’t understand, in the same implication of one spitting out a chain of curses, and asked, “Damnit, Roman, did they leave that fucking thing on again?”

“Looks like it. They pushed it in, too! Even when they struggle, that’s just mean!” Lilting sounds left his lips in much the same implied tone. “We have to get closer to get it off.”

“I’ll do it. Just make sure he doesn’t escape.” Virgil gave Roman the tablets and pulled a set of keys from one of their many pockets. They spoke as they unlocked the door. “Roman and I are assigned to guard you when you’re on good behaviour. If you act out too much, we can’t help, and you won’t like where you end up.” They knelt in front of Logan and pat the ground. “Put your ankle right here. You’re going to have to trust us, and accept the situation.”

Slowly pushing off the wall, Logan carefully slid to where Virgil indicated, voice soft and stubbornly resigned. “Do I have a choice? I don’t know where ‘here’ is or how to get home, even if I thought that I could walk or climb to get there.”

“You’re smarter than most humans they catch.” Virgil slipped a talon into a slot on the device, a thin tongue poking between their lips. They plunged the talon deeper, and the device popped off, ripping off some of Logan’s skin with it.

“FUCK! That hurts!” He groaned. He tugged his foot close and rocked, pressing at the bleeding parts of his foot. He glared. “What good does being smart do me? I’m still here.”

“I’m sorry.” They sounded genuine. “I didn’t want to warn you, it would have just freaked you out.” Virgil stood and left the cage, closing and locking the door behind them. They took the tablets back from Roman. “We don’t have a lot of human food. Do you have… Uh, fuck, what did that girl call it? Come on, Roman, speak up, you know way more about humans than I do.”

Roman jumped a little. “Which girl, the one that had those little bars in her bag or the one that said she couldn’t eat nuts?”

“The one who couldn’t eat nuts. She said it’d kill her. We weren’t aware humans weren’t able to eat all human foods. That’s so fucking weird… You guys are fucking weird, you know that?”

“Those are called allergies. Sensitivity in differing degrees to parts of our environment. I don’t have an allergy to anything. That I’ve encountered so far at least?”

A horrible grating sound sliced through the air as Virgil noted that down with their talon. “And how old are you? We’ve tried guessing age before but another thing humans are fucking weird with, you guys don’t look the same ever.”

Covering his ears, Logan gritted his teeth. “Twenty- I’m twenty years old.”

Virgil noted that down as well and, to Logan’s immense relief, pocketing the tablets. “Okay. So what’s gonna happen is I’m gonna grab you some food while Princey here watches you, then-”

“VIRGIL! ROMAN!” An impatient voice echoed through the corridor, rapidly coming closer. “I’M HERE TO MEET THE NEW HUMAN!”

“Get lost, Janus,” Virgil growled. “The human’s not open for meet and greets yet!”

Logan hissed softly, pushing back against the wall. No more new things…

At first glance, the rapidly approaching creature looked human. It almost startled hope in Logan, until it came into the light.

It was not human.

Its skin was ghostly pale in the spaces it wasn’t covered in shimmering green scales. Its eyes were slit like a snake’s, its fangs poking out between its lips. It had similar talons to Virgil’s, but a fraction of the length and looked almost manicured.

A dazzling grin slid across its face as its eyes landed on Logan. “Oh, hello darling.” It frowned, gaze dropping to his ankle. “Oh, dear, did these two do that to you?”

Virgil shoved the thing. “You can’t keep doing this every fucking time a human arrives. Just because you meet them first doesn’t mean anyone can guarantee you a lower price.”

“P-Price?!” Logan trembled. “You mean I’m to be sold… Like property?!” His vision swam. He curled up tight around his injured limb, rocking slowly as he panicked. “Maybe I should just fucking run… Hope I find a damn cliff or something’s claw…”

All three of them jumped in visible panic, jumping over each other to discourage him.

“-horrible, horrible idea-”

“-please, darling, you’ll only get hurt-”

“-you won’t make it far enough and the punishment will make you regret trying-”

The snake thing wrapped a hand around one of the bars. “I know it looks bleak now, but if you trust me, convince the others that I would be the best buyer… You’ll be happy they took you in the first place.”

Logan laughed with a snort. “Why the fuck would I want something like that?!”

“You’re going to confuse him,” Virgil growled. “Don’t make him think he has any say. Just go and wait for his display day, okay?”

“You’ll look fabulous! And certainly end up with a better owner than snake lips there!” Roman blocked the view with his body, winking.

“I can make you happy!” It insisted. “Please, don’t listen to them! My name is Janus. What’s yours? Let me get to know you, darling.”

“Happy?! Go suck an egg and choke.” Turning, Logan tugged at his ankle, turning to Virgil. “Is there any medical treatment? Water? Clean cloth?”

“Yes, I’ll bring you water with your dinner. Roman, did you-”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Janus did not seem sorry, “but I’m not familiar with that human expression? Was that- Was-”

“You were rejected,” Virgil said flatly. “When are you going to accept that no one wants you?”

“I don’t trust any of you and I don’t like this one bit,” Logan muttered softly.

Janus hesitated, then spun on his heels and left.

Virgil sighed. “Roman, did you remember the gauze?”

Producing a roll from a bag on his hip, Roman nodded. "Of course!”

Virgil took it and unlocked the cage again. “I’ll go grab your food after I get this wrapped up, okay? Did they hurt you anywhere else?” They sat and patted the same spot on the floor.

Slowly stretching out again, Logan thought. “The collar-thing felt like it was burning… But I don’t think so?” Looking at his hands, he hummed.

“Bruises on his hands at least,” Roman piped up, “probably all over from those damn cages.”

Virgil wrapped Logan’s ankle and held out their paws, palms up. “Give me your hands.”

Carefully, Logan held them out, palm down. “What is the purpose of taking humans? What use are we to you?”

“It’s different for each buyer.” Virgil’s dark skin was surprisingly soft as their fingers rubbed along Logan’s palms. “The simple answer is that there’s a huge market for it. There are rumours that people buy humans because they want to take out their anger at being locked down here while you all are free up there, but I think that’s bullshit. We could go up there if we wanted, we just don’t. I think the people who think that are cowards.”

Logan snorted. “Everything I’ve seen here is like a cross between a fantasy tale and a nightmare… Things most people don’t believe even exist! There’s no way there’s a lock or force keeping you here! That’s just not logical!"

“Exactly.” Virgil grinned, squeezing Logan’s hands. “You walked right in, didn’t you? What’s stopping the ones desiring to walk right out?”

"Well… I was exploring, curious. I rather fell in? It was a doorway, though!” He blushed, thinking back. “Seems it was a trap, though, from what they said.”

“Yeah,” Virgil mumbled as they rose to their feet. “It’s those crystals. Humans go crazy for them. The severity depends on the person, but it just makes you want to know… Everything about them. And you’ll put that priority over any others.” Virgil slipped out of the cage, then shut and locked the doors. “Humans are so stupid,” they sighed, and left to get Logan’s food.

Logan curled in on himself. Did I upset them? “Oh…"

Roman hummed softly and slipped into place at the door. "Should we get you more coverings? Are you too cold?"

Pausing, Logan shook his head. Virgil came back a while later with a tray of what looked close to oatmeal, and a few bottles of water. They slid it through a gap in the bars, towards the bottom.

“You should try to sleep after you eat.” They shoved a thick roll of cloth through as well. “Tomorrow’s going to be a big day. You’re going to meet one of our superiors, and she’ll be preparing you for your display day. Please, please obey us, and obey her. If you misbehave, Roman and I will not be able to help you.”

"I… Okay, I’ll do my best. Thank you for the advice. What- What exactly is a display day?"

“One of our superiors will take you to the city, along with some other humans, and, well, put you on display. People come by to meet you and look at you, and bids will start.”

"Oh… Has anyone ever… Gone home?”

Virgil hesitated, expression darkening. “You mean… Left the cave?”

“Yes. Is there a chance that I will ever see the surface again?” He raised his head to watch the expression of this strangely compassionate being. “Will I ever see my home again… Or am I here until I die?”

“Don’t ask questions like that,” Virgil hissed. “That’s exactly the kind of thing that will land you in a place you don’t want to be in. I’m sorry, I’m sure it must be hard to accept, but this is your best option now.”

“Oh…" His head dipped, resting on his knees. "That tells me what I need to know, I guess.”

“It’ll be okay,” Virgil promised. “If you’re smart, you can find yourself a good owner who’ll make you happy.” They looked over their shoulder. “Roman, will you set up our tent? I’m taking second watch tonight.”

Roman rolled his eyes. “Been setting it up as you two gossips talked, guess you really are blind, batboy!”

Virgil looked at them incredulously. “Do you think I’m exaggerating when I say I’m blind?”

Logan couldn’t help but laugh softly, a hand muffling the sound as Roman teased in that other language, causing Virgil to swipe at him.

Virgil finally just rolled their eyes. “Goodnight, Roman. Don’t be stupid, wake me up for my shift, okay?”

He huffed softly. “Fine… Sleep well, emo nightmare!”

“Goodnight, Logan. Let Roman know if you need something.” Virgil ducked into the tent and zipped it up behind them.

Logan spent most of the night struggling to sleep. The blanket Virgil gave him barely softened the hard stone floor, and every time he fell asleep for a few minutes, he jerked awake, body insisting he was in danger. Eventually, he settled for leaning against the back wall of the enclosure and mentally reciting the constellations to try and remain calm. At some point he must have passed out, because he jerked awake when the door opened, an unfamiliar voice speaking with the two guards from earlier.

“How has he been behaving?” The feminine voice asked.

“Perfectly,” Virgil said dryly. “Just went right to bed last night, didn’t even think about escaping.”

“Hmm. That’s perfect. Have you noticed anything strange about him, anything to take note of?”

Roman chuckled. “He seems quite intelligent, if a bit scared. The first crew beat him up a bit and I’m not sure if he’s having issues from that first handling?”

“Hmm,” she sounded indifferent, “I’ll check when we get him to the tailor. We’ll definitely have to market his intelligence, most humans are so dumb.”

Slowly pushing up, Logan hummed softly as dread crept into his stomach. Watching her body language for clues, he steeled himself for whatever she might do to ‘display’ him.

She talked with the two a little longer. She looked remarkably similar to Virgil.

She unlocked the cage door and beckoned Logan forward. “Are you awake? Come here, please.”

“I am.” Standing, he slowly approached, watching those long claws carefully. “Am I allowed to speak, ma'am?”

Her barely-there eyes widened a bit. “Wow, you guys weren’t kidding. He is smart. Yes, Logan, you can speak, but keep it to a minimum. I presume Virgil and Roman told you where you’ll go when you misbehave, and I feel it’s important to tell you that our rules and their rules will not be the same.”

“What are those rules, ma'am? I would prefer to avoid punishment if possible.” Gulping as she approached, he fought not to run.

She gracefully slid her talons under his collar and brought him closer, clipping on a chain. She gently tugged, like beckoning a dog, and stepped out of the cage.

“The obvious ones,” she told him as they walked through the dark corridors, Roman and Virgil flanking them, “like don’t try to escape, don’t be rude, don’t attack anyone. Any others, you have permission to break once, since you won’t know, then any time after that you’ll be assigned new guards.”

He nodded. If he were to break any rules, it would certainly be fighting back or being rude. “Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am.”

“You’re very welcome, Logan. You’re very polite.”

She took them down a route Logan didn’t recognize, and seemingly all at once, the cave walls turned into carved out homes, the narrow hall opened up into a huge cavern bustling with noise, and he was surrounded in life. It was a complete city, underground, and crawling with monsters. “Roman, please visit the office and update the books while Virgil and I bring him to the tailor.”

Smiling wide, Roman saluted. He took the tablets from Virgil before turning with a flourish. “Certainly! I’ll meet back up with you there!"

Virgil’s boss led him through the city. Despite her lack of vision, she never ran into anyone or anything. She brought them to a tiny little building made of jagged rock, some of the door crumbling as she pulled it open.

“Go in, now.”

Stumbling slightly, Logan ducked inside. His eyes slowly adjusted to the lowered light. He could barely make out a small shop with piles of fabrics, some chains and restraints on the walls. "H-Hello?"

Scratching sounded as a figure rounded the mounds, low syllabant voice purring as wings and claws came into view. "Greetings, human… Hand over the chain, Sylvia? I need to see all of him easily, you know!”

A griffin.

Sylvia chuckled and passed it over. “He’s very intelligent, so we’ll need an outfit to highlight that, Rose, make sure everyone who sees him knows.”

Rose’s paw looped the chain over a stand as she drew him in closer. “So I see… His eyes are watching everything. Maybe if we highlight them….” Grabbing some materials, she draped them to check the shade. She sketched concepts with soft mutters. “Scholar… Robes?”

Sylvia hummed appreciatively and found a seat. Virgil stood guard by the door. “Yes, I’m sure that’ll work,” Sylvia said.

“Of course, darling, I AM the best!” Moving Logan with firm but gentle paws, she measured and worked on creating a heavy-looking robe with colours that complimented his features. It made him look wise, and yet hampered movement so he wasn’t tempted to run. Showing him off when she finished, she motioned for Logan to turn. “I would add some makeup for those eyes if you really want him to sell at mark up, sweetie!”

“I’ll mention that to the stylist tomorrow. I trust you’ve done a wonderful job, if there’s anything the boss has to say I’ll bring him back before closing hours.”

She stood and pulled a few gems out of the bag at her hip. One of them was an amethyst, but Logan didn’t recognize the rest. She held them out in Rose’s general direction.

Taking the stones, Rose purred and traded them for Logan’s chain. “A pleasure as always!”

“Virgil, come take this.” She held out the chain, and Virgil felt around until they found her wrist, and felt their way to the end of the chain. “Wait outside for Roman, then get him back to his cage and make him something to eat. I’m going to make sure the work on his display cage is going smoothly.”

“Sure.” They gestured for Logan to follow, taking it on faith that Logan saw and tugging him out the door.

Logan stumbled as he adjusted to the change in leading style. “Virgil?”

Sylvia passed them outside and disappeared into the crowd of people. Virgil leaned against the wall of the tailor. “What’s up?”

“Just a question. Am I to wear this outfit only for presentation, or is this to be my new daily attire?” Logan touched the navy fabric, careful not to mess it up.

“We’re just fitting you for your display day. After we get the boss’ approval, you’ll change back into your original clothes and we’ll keep that safe until everything’s ready. Why?”

“Oh… They are much warmer than what I currently have. The space I was in, it’s colder than I’m used to?"

Virgil stepped forward and clumsily rubbed one of their paws over the side of Logan’s face. “Hm. You’re right, I don’t think humans’ skin is supposed to be this cold. I’ll grab you a hoodie when I get your breakfast. Jesus, do you see Princey anywhere? He’s so fucking distractable.”

Shivering, Logan leaned into the touch. "Mmm…"

Roman scoffed softly, coming up behind Virgil. "Petting him without me, V? You’re bonding nicely!”

They dropped their paw with a sigh. “He’s cold. You should carry him back. Body heat should be able to warm him up just as well as fabric.”

“Oh!” Stepping in, Roman scooped Logan up after a quick consideration on how to position him. “Okay! He’s so light… Are they supposed to be this small?”

Virgil shrugged as they made their way back. “I don’t know. Like I said, humans almost never look the same. Feel below his chest, can you feel his ribs through his skin?”

Logan squeaked as Roman poked at him. “I am not underweight!”

“Just let Roman check,” Virgil sighed. “We need to make sure we’re feeding you correctly.”

Blushing a bright red, Logan nodded and tried to relax.

Roman hummed softly. “Not easily… Skinny but like just not a lot of natural padding? He is super cold though… Shivering.”

“Yeah, like I said, you gotta warm him up. Use friction.”

Chuckling, Roman cuddled Logan close, hands sliding under his clothes to rub gently. “Got it, V!”

They brought him back to his holding cage, Virgil holding out his old clothes. “Go ahead and get changed, I need those.”

Turning for modesty even though he knew it was useless, Logan nodded. He held out the robes to Roman. “Here… Might I request something warm for food? It helps.”

“Of course. We have some soups that are safe for humans. I’ll be right back.”

Roman grinned and settled Logan in his lap, stroking gently. “Soooo… Do you want to talk while V’s doing the boring stuff?”

He blushed and cuddled into Roman’s chest. “Sure?”

“Awesome!” Petting Logan’s hair, he bounced a little. “So, what do you do for fun? Do you live alone? 20 is above the age of leaving your parent’s territory, right?”

“It varies from person to person. It’s not an abnormal time to be on your own.” He shrugged a little. Somehow, thinking of his old life seemed… Bleeker. “I read a lot. Um, I did a lot of exploring, obviously. I liked finding things I didn’t know about and taking it home to run some tests, see if there’s anything interesting. And, uh, yeah. I lived alone.”

“Oh! So humans’ life patterns vary? There’s no set time to leave your first home, find a mate?” Roman’s eyes were wide, fascinated.

Logan nodded slowly. “Yeah… I mean, you can do whatever you want, really. Do you… Have a ‘set time’ to find a mate?”

He blushed. “Kind of? My species has a limit on how long you have to search. We have a token that we’re to give to our mates after courtship… and if you don’t, we kind of… fade?"

Logan frowned deeply. “That’s horrible. What if you don’t want a partner?”

Roman’s head tipped in confusion. "Who wouldn’t want a life partner? The world is lonely sometimes!”

“Well, plenty of people upstairs.” Logan turned to face Roman, wrapping his legs around him. He was slowly warming up, but not quick enough for his liking. “I mean… Well, are we talking about ‘life partners’ or ‘mates?’”

“Oh! You separate the sexual pairs from the companionship ones?” Roman chuckled. “That makes more sense now!”

He nodded, hesitantly resting his head on Roman’s shoulder. “Yeah. Some people only want one or the other, or neither. I mean, most everyone wants someone to be with for their lives, but… More separated. It’s hard to explain. People can just do whatever they want with their own relationships.”

Roman hummed, sliding off his outer covering layer to hold Logan closer, fingers playing with his hair. “It’s complicated. We do have some help, though? Our tokens can act as a guide, giving a nudge if we’re blind to our feelings!"

“Hmm… That’s really-”

“VIRGIL? ROMAN? ARE YOU BACK YET?”

Wincing, Roman groaned and tucked Logan against him. "Son of a sea cow! GO AWAY!”

Janus appeared in the light, looking flustered. “Oh- Logan! You’re out of your cage!” He smiled shakily. “How did you sleep? Oh- Are you cold?” He started to shrug off his jacket.

Logan snickered softly. He patted Roman’s hair as he hissed at Janus and bared his fangs.

“I am,” Logan said, “I slept some… Roman is taking care of me, but, thank you?"

“Oh, I don’t mind!” Janus messily grabbed some gems out of one of the pockets and stuffed them in his pants’ pocket, then held out the jacket. The inside was covered in patches of various fabrics, some of those patches with patches of their own. “I was hoping you’d be more up to talk today? Are you busy?”

Deciding it to be rude to refuse the gift, Logan slid into the jacket carefully. It wasn’t very comfortable— Scratchy, the material stiff. "Well… Um, I don’t think I’m allowed to before presentation day? I don’t want trouble.”

“Janus.” An irritated voice echoed through the tunnel, and Virgil came into view. “Why are you back?”

“I’m trying to talk to Logan.” Frustration bit into his voice, Janus’ hands curling into fists. “Is that a problem?”

“Yes,” Virgil snapped. “He doesn’t want you. You can bid on him tomorrow like everyone else.”

“Thank you for your interest, Janus… But perhaps some other time?” Logan set his head on Roman’s shoulder, confused by the odd snake creature’s persistence.

One of Janus’ fangs poked into his lip. “Of course. I wouldn’t want to bother you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Virgil set the tray of food down and came over to Logan with a thick hoodie. They felt over Logan’s shoulders and frowned in confusion, then anger.

“Take that off,” they snapped.

Blushing, Logan quickly obeyed. “Sorry… It seemed rude to refuse?”

Virgil tossed the jacket on the floor, one of their talons catching and ripping another hole. “When Sylvia said you couldn’t be rude, that certainly does not apply to him. Don’t trust him. Don’t take anything he gives you.” Virgil wrapped the hoodie around Logan’s shoulders and patted him softly. “Let’s get back in your cage, okay?”

Janus picked up his jacket silently, and left.

“Oh… why?"

“He doesn’t deserve to be around humans. You don’t know how things work down here, so you wouldn’t understand, but trust us. He should not be around humans.” Virgil held out his food tray once Logan was in the cage.

Taking the tray, Logan leaned against the bars, wishing for Roman’s warmth again but sipping the soup happily. "Do you have any other advice?"

“You’ve been doing fine,” Virgil promised. “Just get some rest for your display day.”

"Are most humans bought after just one display day?” His forehead pinched at the thought of being uprooted again.

“No. There are usually four, and you’ll be waiting at least a month. How long exactly depends. Bids are open for at least a month, and depending on the popularity of the subject- You -the date might be extended to try and raise a higher price.”

“O-Oh… and I’ll be kept here, or a different place between displays?” I wish I had my notebooks, my things… I dropped all that outside the hole when I fell in.

“It depends on your behaviour. If you behave, you’ll be kept with us until you’re bought. If you break a rule, though, you’ll immediately be switched guards until you’re either bought or the superiors are convinced you won’t act out again.”

Shaking his head, Logan nibbled his bottom lip. “I meant is there a way to earn perhaps… Warmer space, things to distract myself with? I am used to activity, knowledge-seeking.”

Virgil frowned. “I’m sorry. No, that’ll have to wait. You can ask your owner when you’re bought.”

His shoulders slumped. “Oh… This will be a very long month then.” I’m to be bored and confused and scared, lovely.

Virgil headed back to Roman.

Blushing a little, Roman pulled out a small package and handed it to Virgil. “Oh, before I forget, I saw this new tea at the vendors! It’s supposed to be super calming and it smells really good!"

Virgil pressed the bag to their snout, sniffing it curiously. “Mm! Spicy! Thanks, Ro!” They jumped to their feet. “I’m gonna go make some, do you want any?”

Preening a little, Roman made a little chirp of happiness. "Sure!”

Logan arched an eyebrow. Is… Is Roman courting Virgil?!

Virgil squeezed his hand and rushed away. Logan arched an eyebrow. “So… You did say gifts were instrumental to the courtship process, did you not?”

Blushing bright red, Roman turned to Logan. “Yeah… Doesn’t have to be expensive, just thought out!”

Logan finished his soup and hugged his knees. “How many gifts have you given them? Do they understand what you’re doing?”

Roman hummed softly as he thought. “There was the material for a new hoodie, some repair on their clothes… The tea, a few meals. I don’t know if they do, but I hope so! They’re so sure that nobody would want them, silly Clawsian!"

“How long do you have until your, um, deadline?”

Looking down, Roman tugged at his cloak gently. "Six lunar cycles…"

Logan’s eyes blew wide. “What-? That’s- Tell them! You have to tell them!”

Roman blush deepened. "Well, I don’t want to make them become my mate out of a sense of duty, to somehow save me? They’re so honourable…. Kind.”

“That’s-”

“That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard.”

Two mugs clanked against the stone and Virgil charged forward. They felt up Roman’s arms, his shoulders, neck, finally cupping his face, then tilted his head to kiss him hard.

Melting into the strong hands, Roman moaned, kissing back with equal passion as he revelled in the caring touches. “Virgil~”

Logan laughed. “I would agree… They seem quite amenable!”

Virgil slid their talons into Roman’s hair. After a moment or two, he pulled away, voice ragged. “If you ever put yourself in danger for me, ever again, I will break up with you so fucking fast, Princey-”

Face bright red, Roman nodded quickly and chased the touch. “O- Okay! I promise to tell you if I’m ever in danger again!"

Virgil poked his nose. “Good.”

They grabbed their mugs of tea and settled against Roman’s side. Virgil’s smelled approximately ten times spicier than Roman’s.

Nuzzling lightly, Roman smiled. "Does that mean we’re together then, you accept me as your mate?!”

“Depends on how good this tea is.” Virgil took in a long sip, eyes fluttering shut. “Yes, I accept.”

Laughing, Roman snuggled in and sipped his own. Virgil finished the mug and rested their head on Roman’s shoulder, falling asleep for a nap while Roman took watch.

The sub of this duo, Virgil, does commissions! Earn yourself 300 words for each coffee and the knowledge that you’re helping me pay the bills and start my own business

You can read my writing specifically here

#logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #prinxiety #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic janus #not safe for sanders #ds writes #cave boys #logan #virgil #roman #janus

18 notes · View notes