#The ribbons are still on nearly every store front | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-demon-of-a-thousand-eyes · 2 months

Text

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒟𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓃 𝑜𝒻 𝒶 𝒯𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓈𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐸𝓎𝑒𝓈 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 40 Sight a Proposal, Plans Go Awr-Eye

Pairing: Alastor x F!OC (Theia, The Demon of a Thousand Eyes)

Chapter Summary: You, Alastor, and Ombre get your dance to 'We Three' by The Inkspots, Alastor gives his proposal speech, and friends get to give their congratulations. Even 'Uncle' Noctua makes a surprise appearance. It's not the only surprise in store, however…

Word Count: 8.7k

Warnings: Implied Cannibalism, Alastor talking for fucking waaaaay too long, kidnapping

A/N: I haven't finished writing 43 and I suspect I might never complete it, but I will give you all what I have left, and at the end of the chapters in the notes, you can find what my initial plans were for this story, as I've had it for quite some time. Find me in the after chapter notes for an explanation as to why I have decided to leave this story as a mostly WIP despite knowing the entire story's ending.

It’s late into the afternoon by the time you’ve finished your postponed meal at the cannibal café with Alastor, and you feel quite full and satisfied. A complete twenty minutes later, and the two of you are in the town square. The sun is low in the sky but it’s not dark enough for the streetlights to come on just yet. Every part of the square is still covered in those bows of red ribbons with the black lacy overlay topped with an eyeball bead. They stare at you from every street lamp, bench, tree, and hydrant.

In the gazebo, there is a full piece band, and they’re ready to play any song that you choose. Alastor, remembering your request for ‘We Three’ by The Ink Spots, relays the message to them, and pulls you into a waltz.

The three of you are gliding simply, Ombre about your shoulders as usual, with just a simple box step over and over again and you let him lead, always will let him lead if he’ll let you follow.

Your gaze is locked on his as Ombre begins to murmur the words in your ear, singing the song with which you’re so familiar.

“We three, we're all alone

Living in a memory

My echo, my shadow, and me

We three, we're not a crowd

We're not even company

My echo, my shadow, and me.”

He pulls you into a dip and you sigh with a smile on your face, pleased to meet him nose to nose once more as you come back up again to continue the simple box step.

“What good is the moonlight

The silvery moonlight that shines above?

I walk with my shadow

I talk with my echo

But where is the one I love?

We three, we'll wait for you

Even till eternity

My echo, my shadow, and me.”

He leads you into a spin and you know it’s coming long before it begins. You know his steps before he takes them, and you’ve learned the way his body directs you. As Ombre’s voice speaks the words spoken in the song, you shiver and nearly swoon as Alastor pulls you close to spin you gently in a circle.

“‘We three, we're all alone. Seems like we're livin' in a memory.

That's my echo, my shadow, and me.

We three we ain't no crowd.

Fact is we ain't even company.

That's my echo, my shadow, and me.

You know I been wonderin'

what good is the moonlight

that silvery moonlight that shines way, way up above?

Yeah, I walk with my shadow, I talk with my echo, but where is that gal that I love?’”

The look in Alastor’s eyes tells you that the gal is right in front of him; it’s you, and your eyes are full of love and devotion. He starts you both in on a simple box step again as the song continues and Ombre starts to sing again,

“We three, we'll wait for you

Even till eternity

My echo, my shadow, and me.”

Alastor spins you once more, and then as you meet him, he kisses you fiercely. As you break apart, Alastor murmurs, “While that song reminds you of us, nostre fiancé, it reminds us of you.”

Then the clapping begins, and you notice the whole town plus all the guests Alastor had invited have all gathered around the edges of the dancefloor, waiting for you to finish. You flush at the attention and wave.

Alastor summons his microphone, and declares, “Thank you all for joining us for this momentous occasion. Due to unforeseen circumstances—”

“—that honestly should have been foreseen given the nature of how the two of us work—” You cut in, and Alastor chuckles then continues,

“—my dear Theia has already accepted my proposal.” A round of groans before he waves them down. “Now, now, before we get all upset, my dearest has already agreed to let me give the speech I had written and she will say yes again so as to not upset all of you who took the time to make your way out here tonight. We both sincerely apologize for ruining the surprise but are grateful you came to enjoy the party and the festivities nevertheless!”

When Alastor is done with his announcement, he pulls you into his arms for another searing kiss. In the distance is Charlie, Vaggie (with her new eye) standing beside the princess, Angel, Husk, Sir Pentious, and Niffty at their feet. You see Rana, a small gathering of imps, one of which you recognize, a hellhound, and not far from them, you think you might see your ‘uncle’ as well.

Alastor manifests a piece of paper, winks, then begins. “Long before I met you for the first time, Rosie talked about you constantly, talked about the strange woman with so many eyes and a penchant for eating them. When she insisted I come to meet you, that you’d become incredibly depressed, of course I came at her behest. I’d longed to meet you, intrigued by the woman she’d spoken so highly of on so many occasions.

“You fascinated me from the moment you introduced yourself, deliberately choosing an alias instead of your real name, and announcing it so distinctly as such. You were just as witty as I’d anticipated, and amusing to boot. Conversation with you was easy, despite your reluctance for it, and you spoke as if you knew of me, despite the fact that you’d claimed to never have purchased a radio. At least you hadn’t said you preferred TV.”

The crowd laughs as tinny canned audience laughter escapes from his microphone; he winks, and then continues, “When Rosie spoke of redemption, it wasn’t that you didn’t believe in such nonsense, in fact, you made it quite clear you believed it could be possible, but that it never could be for you. While one could assume this was because of the choices you’d made, from what little I understood of you from what Rosie had said, it seemed to me it was quite the other way around. Your actions were dictated because of the impossibility of your redemption, not in spite of it.

“Needless to say, I was entranced. You were an enigma wrapped inside a riddle, and I wanted to understand your secrets. Perhaps a little too eager, as Rosie knew as well as I that you had many you were refusing to share with the world, and as you came to the hotel, I was curious not just of what your secrets entailed, but who you were underneath that cool exterior and near-perpetual smile you chose to wear.

“When you told our Angel Dust in confidence that the smile you wore is something you’d picked up from watching me ‘all these years,’ I was stunned. We’d only just met, and yet you seemed to know so much more about me than I’d ever anticipated. I teased you about it, but you were quick on the uptake, and banter seemed to flow between us as if we’d known each other for decades.

“Calling you ‘dear’ and ‘darling’ started as a joke. Something to tease you about, ruffle your feathers. I liked to watch you flush, see your interesting reactions. Back then, I didn’t understand why. Now I can tell you it was because I had the first inclination of budding attraction in all my life or death.

“Our first date was truly on accident. I had wanted to impress you, take you to the fanciest restaurant here in Cannibal Town, but I’d forgotten that Tourniquet is known for being a place exclusively for couples.” The proprietors of Tourniquet whistle at being mentioned, and you give them small smiles as they do so. Alastor then continues, “Not only was our conversation interesting and the meal delicious, you continued to intrigue me when you pushed back against my insistence to pay for the meal and somehow coaxed me into agreeing to take you to see my radio tower and to another meal together, with the threat that if I refused, that you’d tell Rosie I’d taken you on a date.

“While technically true, I was trapped, caught with the realization that I’d done so on accident, but with the knowledge that I still wanted it to be one. When we made our way to Rosie’s afterwards, as had been the plan, she saw through us immediately, as to be expected.” Your eyes find Rosie in the crowd and she smirks. You giggle behind your hand as Alastor continues, “You kept your end of the promise you’d made even though you didn’t have to; no deal had been struck. I threw caution to the wind when I saw you debating over choices that required refrigeration. I wanted you closer to me, so I had Niffty move your things to the suite beside mine.

“On the way back, when you saw that knife in the window, I knew it met the criteria for exactly what I’d described. It was somehow perfect for you, as if it had been made with you in mind, despite its location in a random innocuous shop window. A knife, sheath, and belt all adorned with eyes of gold and silver—it had to belong to you. So I took you inside, and purchased it. Calling you ‘dearest’ was a slip of the tongue, but seeing the way you responded, it felt like I’d done something right.

“Then we went up to my radio tower, and somehow, it all fell apart. As part of our arrangement, I was allowed to ask you a question, and if you refused, I could choose another. I was greedy and curious, wanting to know about the powers you’d so eagerly kept to yourself as part of your deal with Vox, so of course that was my first question, which you immediately shot down. Then I asked you about what you’d been thinking about before you’d discovered the knife, and you turned sour when I asked you if you’d been thinking about kissing me.

“I didn’t mean for it to come out harsh and cruel, but as I’d told Rosie not an hour before, I was terrified at how I might respond if you showed real interest in me, had real interest in me. I wasn’t supposed to start finding you more interesting than your secrets, but you are quite funny when you want to be, and you expressed genuine interest in my work, and my mother, and even my choice of food, despite it being unpleasant or even unpalatable to others.

“You grew cold with me, bitter, and pulled away from my side, talking of how you should have known it had just been a ploy for you to reveal all your secrets, that it was a trap and you had nearly fallen inside it, going so far as to insinuate that Rosie might have had a hand in it herself.

“You told me I didn’t have to pretend to have interest in you to learn your secrets, that bringing something to the table as equal trade for a deal would have been sufficient, but I was too stunned to answer. It was then, in that moment, as you told me I didn’t have to pretend that I realized I wasn’t, and it was seemingly already too late. When you spoke of keeping your agreement with me, about sharing a meal and even taking the knife’s first victim in front of me, I grasped at them like they were the key to survival, already drafting versions of an apology in my head.

“The next evening, when you were so inebriated you could barely stand, waxing poetic and using so many puns I could barely discern your meaning, you found me of all people in that hallway, collapsed in my arms and I carried you to your room, had Niffty dress you, wrote you a letter, and told you how utterly captivated I am by you. Little did I know that you were fully aware of it the whole time, aware that I was apologizing to you as you lay unconscious, thinking you were asleep.

“I had Ombre look after you but only from a distance, as you’d been so careful to include them in your insistence for space, not knowing that they too, were hurting, perhaps even more so, as they’d known from the beginning that they were intrigued and fascinated by you, and I was the one slow on the uptake for once.”

Everyone chuckles, and he gives a sheepish smile as Ombre rumbles amusement as well, then he continues, “So when Ombre appeared on the awning above you as you left to go see your dear friend Rana and you encouraged me to appear, I did so, and you called me ‘Al’ again, like you’d done before. I didn’t understand, couldn’t understand, why you were suddenly alright with me, as if the events of two nights prior had never occurred, even as I called you Theia, respecting your boundaries and wishes, even as I saw that you winced when I did so. As you walked away, my thoughts were focused on continuing to draft that apology letter, revising and editing it over and over again in my mind.

“When the day you’d planned to make the meal we were to share together arrived and you’d told Niffty you needed an apron and oven mitts, I nearly broke at the thought of seeing you in one, all dolled up for me and serving me a meal.” He says sheepishly.

Angel calls out, “He fuckin’ bleated! Twice!”

The crowd laughs, and Alastor, a blush on his face, continues, “While we were on uncertain terms, I’d do anything to appease you, anything to give you what you wanted and needed, so when I saw you sit on the floor, I made my move, coaxed you to a chair, and went off in search of a very specific apron and oven mitt set, with trivets to match. I had it designed out of fabric I found, and was pleased it only took half a day to complete. Afterwards, I put on the suit I’d had my tailor perfect days prior, and prepared my room for our meal—our second date.

“I will never forget how you looked in that moment. You stole my attention and my breath in an instant. I have a detest for cameras, but then, in my room with you looking the perfect picture of a nineteen-thirties housewife, I wanted to capture your image to look upon at my whimsy, to never be rid of that wonderful display you’d chosen to make just for me. Then that dress, that little housedress changed before my very eyes into something stunning and elegant, and I thought once again that I’d lost my mind, even as you told me that I could call you those pet names that I so longed to call you again. I didn’t understand of course, but you said I could, and I would, had longed to call you them from the moment you’d told me to stop.

“Then I tasted the meal you prepared. The best meal I’ve ever eaten in my death. It reminded me of my mother, of the care in which she’d put into her meals, but it tasted like us, like a future we could have together. I didn’t understand why you were so easy and open and honest with me after our gross misunderstanding only two nights prior, but I accepted your explanation that I’d forgotten my rather embarrassing first draft of the note, riddled with little pet names and affections for you that I knew I had to leave out. You asked me about what my intentions were, and I was flummoxed, unable to answer.

“Just as I told you then, I had no idea what I wanted, was so focused on apologizing to you, on telling you that I just wanted you to no longer feel disdain for me, that I didn’t even conceive of the notion that you already had long moved on from forgiveness. The words you spoke, telling me that it was alright that I wasn’t sure what I wanted, that you’d let me have whatever I was willing to offer you no matter what that might be and at whatever pace that I wished nearly broke me again.

“When the meal was over, I gave you the candied eyes I’d bought, and you spoke words that hurt my heart at the very notion that you would think so lowly of yourself. I was determined to explain to you that if anyone else had said those words that I would gut them at your feet. Those words still hold true to this day. No one should ever say such things about you, ma très chère, least of all yourself. I must have made you uncomfortable, which upset me, but then you moved on to discussing how your first kill with that knife of yours would go, and I was fascinated when you told me you were aroused by the idea of killing someone in front of me. Of course I was fascinated. Arousal had never been something that enticed me, intrigued me, even as I yearned for you in ways I had never understood.

“So the next morning, after I’d escorted you to bed, you decided to be a little minx and turn on the radio. Of course I came to you, lured like a sailor to the rocks, and you coaxed me into breakfast after I coaxed you into dancing with me, and we spent the morning in the ballroom, dancing a lovely foxtrot to a song I’d never had the pleasure of dancing to while I was alive. Afterwards, I saw you off with a smile and affectionate kisses everywhere but your lips. I was starting to become acclimated to your touch, to touching you, and I have always been grateful that you allowed me to take things at my pace.

“When I came back to the hotel after tracking down your future prey, Niffty told me she found you in Angel’s room, and I didn’t even mean to, didn’t need to, but I found myself jealous. When you told me that it had just been to see his pet pig, that you’d been in there as his friend because of course you were. You are good to everyone around you—even to me—I grew bitter, furious, furious I no longer had a justified reason to be upset, and somehow, impossibly, you understood, spoke French to me, and broke me in an instant, broken for the first time of many.

“Yet even as you broke me, shattered me to pieces, you were careful with your precision to put me back together, carried the pieces of me that fell into your lap and took me to my room in the blink of your eyes. You let me hold you, communicate with you in a way you’d designed so that I didn’t have to speak, didn’t need words, and you curled into me in a way that just felt right. You told me about how your powers work, showed me how they work, told me that you saw how I took care of you that night when you were drunk, heard my apology and confession from my lips. I was shaken, to be sure, but pleased to know that you had heard it, for it had always been genuine. I encouraged you to tell me about how your deals work, since you’d been so eager to tease me with the notion before, and then you told me words that nearly broke me to this day.

“You told me that when you made a deal with me, that you’d mark me, leave me with a gold eye with a silver iris, that you’d put it under my chin, so that anyone who looked up to me would know that I was yours. I will always be yours, bien-aimée, but in that moment, right then and there, I knew I wanted to be yours. So of course I kissed you, my first kiss to anyone besides my own mother. It was awkward at first, but you seemed to understand what I wanted, and helped make it better, made it perfect, just like you.

“Not long after, on that rooftop in front of your prey, you told me your name, let me carve it into your victim, then unleashed your demon form and I almost broke a third time. I didn’t know how much better it could be with you, but seeing you in your true form, two stories tall and shrieking, hungry and out for blood, was the best spectacle I have ever witnessed. You are radiant, ma beauté monstrueuse, and I was entranced, captivated, and aroused for the very first time as I watched you watch me as you slayed that sinner. Of course I made love to you for the first time that night, soaked in your victim’s blood. You were perfect, are perfect.

“I wanted your mark on my skin, and jumped at the chance to have it when you said I had to keep your name a secret. Of course I did.” He intertwines his fingers with yours and the deal glows once more. “I wanted everything with you, would have it in a heartbeat, but Ombre insisted, they wanted to be a part of this too. How could I say no? They had known from the start that you were the one who would be perfect for us both. The least I could do was give you the ability to understand them too, even if no one else can understand them.

“The next morning, we ate breakfast together; you broke me again, put me back together, showed me what the rest of the hotel was up to, and coaxed me into inviting you to the Overlord meeting. We made a laughing stock of the Vees once more together, learned some valuable secrets, and discovered a flier seeking you in a way that had you in a panic. I took you back to our rooms, and you called it ‘home’. It broke me to see you like that, but it also felt like I was taking you home, taking you back to the place that the three of us shared.

“You left me with a note the next morning, and it scared me at first. I thought you’d left forever, that you’d decided that this wasn’t enough, and I nearly screamed. You can never leave me, Theia. The deal we made prevents that, but in that moment, I was terrified, terrified you’d changed your mind, terrified that flier had sent you packing, running. Ombre, for that is what you named them, reassured me that you would return, that you had simply woken before I’d arisen and that you were participating in the day’s activities.

“When you returned to the hotel, I could tell that something was plaguing your mind, that you felt like something was weighing on your heart, but Niffty, our dear sweet Niffty, had decided that Boring Closet Stuff was to be explored. You seemed eager to have something distract you, and I was pleased to be in close proximity to you, even as I saw the new eye on your skin as soon as I’d set mine on you. I didn’t mention it, thought it best to wait, as Niffty led us into the mysterious room and all the fascinating objects inside. I collected that book that fell from the trap door and into the tunnel to the side, and I could never have known then how valuable it would become.

“We sat and shared time with Niffty in her little Hidey Hole, and you were eager to explain that you’d made a deal with me when Niffty asked about the eye underneath my chin. When she’d assumed we’d gotten married and you’d said it was more of a promise and she’d said it was like a proposal, I reassured her that it would be far more grand.” He looks up from the paper and into your eyes for a moment. “It was then that I had already started planning this evening.” Then he returns to his script, this love letter he drafted to you to read aloud to all of Hell.

“That night, you told me who you are, how you came to be Theia, the one who eats the eyes of her enemies, the one who takes charge and steals the gaze of anyone who sees her in an instant. You told me of the filth of a man who you rightfully removed from life after what you discovered he’d done to your friend, and you did it so creatively, I might add. I understand why you did what you did, Theia. I removed filth from the streets myself when I was alive. You told me of the curse that plagues you, and we vowed to remove it, even as we hadn’t yet discovered that it truly is a curse. The three of us made love for the first time that night: Ombre, you, and myself, and while you slept, Ombre and I poured over the book we’d discovered.

“We knew your whole story, the story you hadn’t shared, but perhaps you were unable to let your lips form the words, scared to say your family’s history. We were going to tell you what we found when you awoke, but a terrifying nightmare had you rising far earlier than anticipated. When you told me that it wasn’t a nightmare, that you see the true events that take place in Hell and gave me a perfect example of an event I already was aware of, I held you as you made sure that our Angel Dust was safe, that he and Husk were alright, together and happy. I reminded you that no matter what happened you were not to blame for the actions taken by another, and certainly not one as horrific as Valentino.”

Your perfect vision around you refuses to deny you the look of shock and what you pray isn’t pity on Angel’s face. Husk takes and squeezes one of his hands. I’m glad one good thing came out of that horrible night, you decide as Alastor continues. “We coaxed you back to sleep, and in the morning, your dear friend Rana was eager to call you. We had a lovely talk, and we joined her and Rosie for tea. You had a surprise visitor, that with your impeccable eyesight, you saw before any of the rest of us did. Ombre and I would have lost it if it weren’t for Rosie and Rana. You terrified us, disappearing without a word like that. When you returned, we were so grateful, so joyful to know that you were alright. You spoke of a family member you hadn’t seen in years but were happy to be reunited with, and we were pleased to know that not all of your family was terrible, that you had someone in your life who treated you with respect.

“Afterwards, we discussed what I found in the book, about your curse, about the angel that performed it, about Boring Closet Stuff again, and about the possibility that you could be pregnant. You were panicked, crazed, dazed, and furious. You threw caution to the wind and announced that you would tear Valentino apart for what he’d done to Angel, and that you wanted me to watch you do it. Of course I said yes, as long as I was there to keep you safe, could watch the show. What a show indeed. You never cease to impress. It’ll be days before he respawns but when he does, I look forward to watching you do it all over again.

“That time we made love it was the most ravenous, primal, needy, and desperate I have ever been. I will never forget it and hope to do it again sometime, but not in your current condition.” Both his and Ombre’s hands move to your abdomen in unison, and you let them, placing your hand, your left, the one with the engagement ring, on top of both of theirs. “When Lucifer arrived at Charlie’s discretion, I made sure to keep your distance from him for as long as I could manage, knowing that you feared that if he saw you, he’d insist that you leave the hotel and never return.” Charlie’s face looks shocked and upset. Alastor doesn’t notice as he continues, “I wanted to distract you with killing the loan sharks, and while it was fun, it set you up to be seen by him as we returned. So the time came for us to sit down with The King of Hell about why you were here, about what could be done.

“I would never, will never allow anyone, not even Lucifer himself take you away from us, Theia. You are ours and we will never let you go. When you made that deal with Lucifer to protect the hotel to the best of your capacity, none of us knew you were pregnant, and much less with twins. Lucifer saw the twin souls in you, and I knew, in that moment, that the three of us were to be parents for sure.

“It was upsetting, to see you so terrified of motherhood, but after you allowed yourself to relax, I was grateful to know that you were reassured by Ombre and my abilities to father and rear our children at your side.” He lets the notes disappear back into his shadows, pulls you close, and looks into your eyes as he holds the microphone with one hand and, with his arm wrapped around yours, his other on your belly. “This morning, when you killed the sinner who started Theia’s whole story, you jumped into my arms, told me that you love me so impossibly much and then jokingly asked me to marry you.

“It was a challenge, and you know how I like those. I couldn’t let you just get away with saying that. I had a ring burning a hole in my pocket, even as I knew that Rosie was making sure the town was putting the finishing touches on this little event, even as I knew that all of our friends would be in attendance. So I fished out the ring box and proposed at your feet next to the corpse. I called you by your name, the name given to you at birth, and I asked you for your hand in marriage.

“Now, I will do the same, but I will say the name you chose, the name that matters far more to me because it is yours. Theia,” He says as he drops down to one knee again, simply for the sake of formality, “nostre reine, will you give me the pleasure, the honor, and the blessing of being my wife?”

Tears prick your eyes you didn’t know were coming, for even as you stood and listened to all of these words that he’s been speaking, you never expected your reaction to be like this. “YES!” You declare with a yell as you lean into the microphone, and he kisses the ring already on your finger.

The applause begins as a quiet thudding and escalates into a roar, loud yells and cheers and people jumping. Everyone is thrilled, and so are you. You see everyone deeply moved and overjoyed at the beautiful speech he delivered. When he takes a bow, you hear a click as the broadcast ends, and you smile through the tears that threaten to fall.

One by one, your friends approach you. Rosie first, as hostess, pulls you into a gentle hug, whispering, “Congratulations, dearie. I look forward to the wedding.” You kiss her cheek.

“Thank you, Auntie Rosie.” You give her a delighted smile.

Charlie is next, Vaggie beside her, and after Charlie almost picks you up and swings you around, a look from Alastor makes her change her mind. She sets you back down gently, and Vaggie offers you a hug, her arms open. You take it, smiling back at her.

It is a short embrace, and when it is over, she steps away from you. “Congratulations Theia!” Charlie declares excitedly. “When you’re ready, come to me and we’ll start planning your wedding! I already have a few ideas!”

“She has filled pages and pages of a notebook already.” Vaggie says, amused.

You look to Alastor. “Didn’t you tell her just yesterday that you were going to propose?”

“No, nostre reine. This morning, actually, mere hours before you awoke.” He says, amusement in his eyes.

“So much already, why that doesn’t surprise me, Charlie; you’re always full of ideas!” You say easily, a little intimidated by how enthusiastic she is about the idea of planning your wedding.

Vaggie, sensing your unease, coaxes Charlie away, and Niffty runs up next. “When I said we’d talk later, Theia, I didn’t think it would be at your proposal party!” She giggles as Ombre makes room for her to crawl up and sit on your shoulder. She gives you a hug. “Congratulations!” She says and leans over to give Alastor a hug too, who looks surprised but pleased. “I expect to be a part of the wedding. One of the bridesmaids, maybe.” She thinks for a moment as she kicks her legs. “While I’m small enough in stature to be the flower girl, I’d really rather not.” She says with a chortle, and you chuckle along with her.

“That’s understandable, Niff.” You say easily, and she gives you both another hug.

“I’m going to go see if Rosie needs any bugs killed! I’ll see you later!” She declares as she scurries off elsewhere.

Sir Pentious comes up to you both next.

“I don’t see why I’m always last to find out about these things.” Sir Pentious declares, irritated. “It appears the entire hotel knew you prefer to be called Theia despite The King calling you ‘Iris’ and that you’re pregnant except me?!”

“Sorry, Pen, these things happen sometimes.” You say sadly, feeling a little bad that you hadn’t managed to talk to him yet but glad he’d been able to make it anyway. “I’m glad you came, though, and I’ll be sure to spend more time with you soon.”

“Coming from anyone else that would be doubtful, but as it is you, I anticipate many talks with you in the future, Theia!” He says excitedly, and you smile as he slithers off into the crowd.

Angel and Husk walk up next. You delight in seeing them still holding hands from earlier. Angel drops the hand to pull you into a four-armed hug, but makes sure to hold you loosely and above the waist. “Congrats, Occhi!” He exclaims, and you wrap your arms around him.

When he steps away, Husk pulls you into a hug, the first of its kind. You smile into his fur and wrap your arms around him too. He’s soft, far softer than you’d anticipated. He smells like family. “Congrats, kid.” He says affectionately, and pats you on the head. You chuckle. He turns to Alastor. “Congratulations, Sir. May she be good to you.”

“You’re too kind, dear Husker.” Alastor says with a knowing smile, and you frown at them both.

“Alastor, don’t put words in Husk’s mouth. He does enough for you already.” You pinch him on the ass, determined to prove a point. He bleats, his ears pinned back against his head.

Angel barks out a surprised laugh. “Do it again, Occhi!” He chortles, and you shake your head.

“Once was enough.” You say easily, then kiss Alastor on the lips gently. “Be good to your souls, Al. You know what happens to bad boys who don’t play well with their toys.” You say with a teasing smirk. “Though I would never cut you up, of course. I’d just deny you sex. After all, if you want me to find other ways to teach you a lesson, all you have to do is be good.”

“Kinky!” Angel says with a smirk, and you roll your eyes.

“Don’t you have elsewhere to be, Ange?” He laughs, but takes the hint.

“See you later, Occhi.” He waves, takes Husks hand, and leads him away.

“Later, kid.” Husk says with a wave of his own, his eyes never leaving Angel’s delighted face.

You don’t have much time to pay attention to how cute their new love is before Rana, Blitzø, a pair of imps you don’t recognize, and a hellhound step forward to see you. Rana pulls you into a fierce hug before she steps back to introduce everyone. “You already know Blitzø, of course, but the rest of the gang you haven’t met yet. This is Moxie and Millie, the other two members of I.M.P., and this is Loona. She works there too.”

“She’s also my daughter!” Blitzø supplies, and Loona groans and pulls out her phone. You giggle. Teenagers these days, always staring at their phones. “Where did—he was just here a fuckin’ minute ago.” You suspect you know who he’s talking about but don’t comment.

“Pleased to meet you, Theia!” Moxie says with a soft bow.

Millie smirks, “Charmed, I’m sure. Rana’s told us all about ya.”

You laugh and offer your hand for them to shake, much to their surprise. “A pleasure to meet the both of you. When we’re not so busy, I actually have a task for I.M.P. No murder this time, unless that comes as a side benefit. I have a package I need delivered, and I’ll need it delivered to someone on Earth. I hear you’d be the ones to speak to about such matters. I’ll pay extra, of course.”

Blitzø brightens at the idea of more money. “We’ll talk later.” He says, and then looks around again. “Where the fuck did he go? He was so goddamn determined to be here, and now he doesn’t even bother to show when we finally get a fuckin’ chance to talk with the newly-engaged couple? He fuckin’ loves this sappy ass shit.”

You see your ‘uncle’ in the distance, see him hold a single finger up to the hood of the cloak he wears, and you understand, keep your head level. You’re not sure why he’s insisting on being stealthy, hiding from everyone, but he is.

“Maybe he went to get some refreshments.” You suggest as a means of distraction, and everyone takes it easily.

“I could go for some food.” Rana says, understanding your desire to get them to peel off on their own. Blizø follows behind, bitching the whole way; Loona stares at her phone as she leaves, muttering a half-hearted ‘congrats,’ and Moxie and Millie give their congratulations before they take up the rear.

After they are long out of earshot, your ‘uncle’ walks up to you gracefully. Keeping the hood up, he opens his arms, and you run and jump into his embrace. “Uncle Noctua!” You exclaim. “You came! How did you even know this was happening?”

“Word got around, as it always does, little nebula. Why you insist on calling me ‘uncle’ I’ll never understand, Iris. I’m only six years older than you.”

You laugh, resting your head against his chest. “You’re so much taller than me, silly. Besides, you’ll always be an old man in my eyes. You’ll live to see the end of time itself.”

“Don’t say such devastating things, little nebula. You’ll see it too, someday. Now that the book has been uncovered we can begin the task of breaking the curse.” He says easily, and lifts your chin to look into your eyes. “You’ve done so well so far. There’s not much more, I’m sure of it.” His gaze turns to Alastor then. “Now, Iris, introduce me to the man who has captured your heart.”

“Alastor, I give you permission to call me in front of Prince Stolas, son of King Paiman, Lucifer’s most loyal. Noctua, I’d like to introduce you to the man I have chosen as my better half. This is Alastor, The Radio Demon, and his shadow, Ombre. They are two sides of the same man, and the two halves of my better half.” You say, and Alastor smiles, offering his hand to shake as you step back into Alastor’s embrace.

“Iris, or Theia as she prefers to be called these days, has told me about you, your highness.” Alastor says with his ever-permanent smile, but it’s genuine, his words sincere. It is rare that he speaks to someone with more power than him with respect and decency, you suspect. “She speaks kind words about how you are the only family she considers truly hers. Thank you for showing her how family ought to treat her, so she has someone to think of how she’ll want our future family to be treated.”

“While Theia has not told me about you to the same extent, I know that she has chosen the right one for her, for only a man who knows her secrets, knows her story, knows her royal lineage and chooses to see past that could possibly live up to the standards set by both her and myself for what we hope to attain.”

You interject, curious. “Do you believe you’ve found that with Blitzø?”

“I think I have, little nebula, though there are times when I wonder about things.” He says with a sigh, and you see worry in his eyes.

“Time will tell, Noctua. I suspect it will all work out in the end, even if it’s a bit of a rough start. He was looking for you earlier. He cares about you, even if he has difficulty showing it. I’m familiar with these sorts of things.” You say as you squeeze Alastor’s hand. He squeezes yours back.

“I should be leaving now, little Nebula.” Stolas says, and you give him a sad smile.

“Are you still coming by the hotel tomorrow?” You ask earnestly, hoping to see him again.

“Absolutely. There is, I’m afraid, quite a lot to discuss. I hadn’t planned on coming tonight, but when dear Rana mentioned that your engagement party was tonight, I couldn’t stay away.” He opens up his arms again, and you leap into them once more. “Good night, little Nebula. Congratulations on your engagement, and I will see you soon.” He kisses you on the forehead, and you wave goodbye as you step once again back into Alastor’s embrace.

“Goodbye, ‘Uncle’ Noctua!” You call with a tease, and he laughs, his laugh echoing into the darkness as he retreats.

“He truly is a good one, Iris darling.” Alastor murmurs into your ear. “I’m glad you had someone as kind as him in your life growing up.”

“I am too.” You sigh into his ear as he pulls you close.

As the band strikes up something lively, Alastor asks with a bow, “May I have this dance, mon fiancé?”

“With you? Always.” You reply with a curtsy, and he pulls you into his arms to lead you in the complicated footwork required for the dance at hand.

It’s simple; it’s expected, and it’s soothing. This is a dance for lovers, and a dance for just the three of you, even as others partake beside you on the dancefloor. You finish the night with more dancing and refreshments, wrapped in his embrace.

It is so wonderful to have a night as quiet as this one, you think to yourself, I hope many more are just as enjoyable, just as calm.

Several dances and conversations later, everyone says their goodbyes to you and heads out into the night. Soon, it’s just Alastor, Ombre, Rosie, and yourself. It is dark. The streetlights have all come on to illuminate Cannibal Town in their glow. The square is empty, save for the beautiful wrappings on every tree, streetlamp, bench, wreath, and gazebo. It’s cool, and the air is impossibly still.

“Well, dears, the guest room is available for the night should you choose to stay.” She winks. “I changed the sheets already, so feel free to get a good night’s rest.”

You flush, realizing that she knows about your earlier escapades. “Thanks, Rosie.” You reply as you try to calm your breathing. As she walks away, your hairpin slips from your bun. As it clatters to the ground, you bend down to pick it up, and accidentally pierce your finger. The blood drips onto the pin and a few fall on the ground, soaking into the dirt.

“So thoughtful as always, Rosie dear.” Alastor replies, not noticing your little mistake. “We’ll gladly take you up on spending the evening in your guest room. It’s been quite a long evening and I’m sure Theia is exhausted.” You pick up the pin with your uninjured hand. A yawn escapes you before you realize it, and Ombre chuckles. Alastor kisses your forehead. As blood drips from your fingers, they remain unaware. “Right on cue. Let’s get you into bed, hmm?”

You nod, and he uses his shadows to materialize into the guest room again. Blood drips onto the carpet. Alastor’s eyes dilate as his nose catches the scent of your fresh blood. “Bien-aimée, have you injured yourself?” He lifts your hand to inspect it, sucks the finger into his mouth.

“I pricked myself on my own hairpin by mistake.” You say with an embarrassed laugh. “I’m just so tired.”

He tsks and you let yourself be chided. “Ma très chère, you must take better care of yourself.”

“At least I have the two of you to take care of me.” You murmur, then realize where you are. “You know,” you say in between yawns as he closes the wound with his tongue. If I weren’t so tired this might have started something, you think with a shiver, “we just as easily could have gone home. The effort to materialize here versus there is virtually nothing. I of all people would know.”

“Yes, ma très chère, but it would be rude to have said ‘no’.” He says with a kiss to your finger and then your forehead. “Now are you awake enough to dress yourself, or shall I do it for you, bien-aimée?”

“In what, Al?” You raise an eyebrow. “Are you going to send Ombre for my nightdress?”

He chuckles, and manifests a wrapped present. “The first of many gifts, mon fiancé.” He says as he hands it to you.

You sit on the bed and inspect it. It’s not very large, clearly a garment box, wrapped in gorgeous red paper and an equally stunning black bow to match. There is elegant threading work on each. You take the time to undo the bow carefully and open the wrapping so as to keep it intact and avoid reopening the wound on your finger.

He chuckles, bemused, as he sits beside you, watches your careful and deliberate motions.

Finally, the wrapping falls open and you lift the lid. Under tissue paper, you find sheer red lace. As you pull it out of the box, you find a bra, panties, garter belt, stockings, and a robe to match, all in a stunning red and black. “You don’t have to wear it all to bed, of course,” he says with a nip at that mark on your neck, “but just know that you’d look ravishing in them.”

You shiver at the thought and Ombre pools onto the bed from your shoulders as you tug at the collar of your dress. It splits open, and you find yourself doing a sort of reverse strip tease as you stand, sliding off your plain white panties to slip the sheer red ones up and over your hips, followed by the stockings, one foot and then the other. Next is the bra, up and around your breasts then over your shoulders. Lastly, you take the robe, slide it over one arm and then the other, and lastly, cinch it at the waist with the belt.

Ombre practically leaps against you and you laugh as you wrap your arms around them, collapsing onto the bed with them next to Alastor, who pulls you tight against him with fierce kisses to your face as Ombre nips at your neck.

You laugh freely, pulling them each into a kiss one after the other and again, then Alastor slips down your torso to untie the robe. You laugh harder as he does so. “Was the point of wearing this just so you could take it off me? Otherwise I don’t see much point in wearing it in the first place.” You stifle a yawn, and he kisses your forehead.

“We shall have to save divesting you of these delightful garments until the morning, bien-aimée, for we really ought to let nostre fiancé get her beauty rest.”

You yawn again and slip under the covers as Ombre curls into your side. Alastor settles on top of the covers in his suit and you raise an eyebrow. “Surely you’re not going to lay there and fall asleep on top of the covers, Al.”

“I don’t need to sleep, ma très chère.” He says with a half a shrug as he lays down on his side to stroke a hand through your hair.

“No, but you indulge sometimes, or is that just after we’ve made love?” You say with a raised eyebrow. “Will you indulge for me, mon fiancé?”

He sighs, but you can tell by the sparkle in his eyes that his smile is still genuine. With a snap of his fingers, he is naked save his boxers. His suit jacket and pants hang over a chair, his boots at their feet. His shirt is neatly folded on the seat. You pull back the covers and he slides underneath them, wrapping his body and legs around you as he pulls you flush against him. He nips at your neck and you whine, then yawn again.

With his hot breath on your neck, you relax as the two begin to snore in purrs and static. You find yourself drifting into slumber.

At first, all is still. It is a boring dream, you curled into the embraces of your lovers, your fiancés, the two halves of your better half, in Rosie’s guest room. You roll over to stretch your fingers, and as you do, the wound re-opens and a single drop of blood falls onto the sheet before it heals completely.

In an instant, a towering figure that nearly touches the ceiling appears at the far end of the room. As he walks towards you, recognition hits your features. It is your father, looking far older than the last time you saw him, but of course, sixteen years have passed. He grunts and glares, but says nothing as he shoves Alatstor aside and rips Ombre from you. As he lifts you from the bed and into his arms, he catches sight of the ring on your finger and you see his jaw tighten, gritting his teeth. His four eyes darken as he snatches it from your finger and sends it into his void.

You are furious but motionless as you lay limp in his grip, his clutches, and he disappears in a flash, a blink. The room shifts to the one that has felt like a jail cell ever since you were small. If you could shiver in fear, you would, but you are limp, motionless other than your calm, even breathing.

As your brain emerges from the dream, you whimper out, terrified by the images you’d seen, “Al?” Hearing no answer, you blink your eyes open and let out a scream.

You remember that you don’t dream.

You’re alone. Your father snatched you in the night.

This is your childhood bedroom.

He took your engagement ring.

Just as soon as I get my ring back, I’m out of here, and I’m never returning again. He can keep his castle, his throne, his perfect son as his perfect king. I want nothing to do with any of them. I just want my peace, my husbands, and my children.

May Prince Seere rot in his little hole in his pathetic corner of Hell.

A/N:

Is this a better cliffhanger, or worse? cackles

In all seriousness, I have two and a half chapters left for y'all. You can have them, and then after if you want, I can tell you how the rest of the story was intended to go, as I've devoted myself to writing an entirely different story.

So in a surprising but welcome turn of events, I have fallen in love with a clown and created a circus with them.

Theia--Hellaverse Theia, that is--is a sweet child who I adore, but she isn't the same as my new favorite Theia.

Theia, The One Who Sees, is a fortuneteller gifted with The Sight. Her arms are littered with tattoos, one for each year of her life. She is cursed to have only a hundred years, has known this since she was seven. Her nanny took her to the circus to comfort her, and there she met the ringmaster she would focus on to get her through the next eighty-seven years of her life.

At such a young age, she has access to none of her powers until thirteen, when the entire world appears to her, is able to see everything everywhere all at once except for that small circus she longs to view once more. Trapped by her parents and forced to live in cramped, horrific conditions, she focuses on the music from the circus and the memories she has of that one magical night to keep her comfort, along with her addiction to peppermint candies she discovers she has.

This ringmaster, who would eventually take the name Peppermint Patches, realized his life's calling when he saw a young girl with eye tattoos terrified to go home. He devotes it to seeking her and all other children who are terrified to return to the place that should be comfort to him. In the years that follow, he forms a circus that is his family, and while he blames himself for never finding the girl with the eyes once more, fate and The Sight have other plans.

They meet once more as adults, and The Sight shows them the promise of a future completely and utterly devoted to each other. Her tentacles, The Ones That See, have known he was the one from the moment they awakened along with The Sight.

See them and all the rest of their magnificent circus in

The All-Seeing Circus!

First || Chapter 39 || Chapter 41

#the demon of a thousand eyes #hazbin hotel fanfiction #theia #demon of a thousand eyes #hazbin hotel oc #alastor x reader #eye #eyes #eye puns #eye puns as a coping mechanism

8 notes · View notes

minhio22 · 6 months

Text

White Day Surprise

Ando shiki x reader

You found it weird , finding a box of chocolates under your desk. I mean sure, every other girl is finding either chocolate or disappointment but you didn't expect for you to be in the former considering it was White Day. No name, no signature, no thing to go off of just a nearly written note that wrote 'thanks'.

You held the piece of paper up and examined it. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, just some hard paper that you could get from a craft store. You moved it to the ceiling light as if it could reveal some sort of secret but nope. You couldn't stop admiring the penmanship though, it was prettier than yours. You just wished you had a clue at whose handwriting it was. You then placed the card back down on your desk and your eyes wandered back 5o the box.

A hexagon shaped white box neatly tied with a purple ribbon. You haven't opened it yet. You were too busy trying to figure kut what you did to get this gift. Usually a girl who gets chocolate on this day is basically getting a returning gift from the on that they give on valentine's, however you didn't recall ever giving one.

You hadn't finished accessing the situation when the ball rang, signaling the start of class. You supposed you could continue pondering about it later as you slide the box under your desk. Unbeknownst to you the whole time you did your antics of checking the gift a pair of eyes were following your every move.

You went to the rooftop during recess, bringing the small box of chocolates with you. You don't know why but no one ever really comes here so it's a really nice place for a getaway alone.

You were walking to the edge but it turns out you weren't alone. He didn't seem to notice you until you got closer, your footsteps the only noise that signaled your presence.

“Ah, Y/n, what are you doing here?” Shiki asked timidly.

You looked at him, soft fluffy brown hair that always made you tempted to run your hand through it, pinchable round cheeks and those eyes that sometimes seem to waiver but always sparkle when he's rapping. If you were asked to name a cute boy at school it would be him albeit the little bundle of nerves he is.

You got lost in your thoughts until you snapped out of it. “Oh? Hmm? Oh… just needed some quiet time to think about something.” You answered.

Shiki seemed to have caught on as his eyes were on the box in your hand. He blushed faintly but it went unnoticed by you. You walked past him to the edge of the roof which was fenced off.

“You know Shiki? I'm surprised to see you here. You never seem keen on this place.” You told him, still looking at the horizon. You sat down and patted the floor beside you. “Care to join me?”

Shiki sat down although he looked pale and his breath had quickened a bit. “Hey, you don't need to force yourself to join me. As I thought you don't really like this place, Shiki.”

Shiki shook his head. “N-no it's fine. I-i wanted to be here.” Truth be told he was there because he knew you frequented the roof a lot. It took him a lot of courage to get there but it'll be worth it in the end.

You hummed thoughtfully as you examined the box that you had placed in front of you. You had finally opened it, the ribbon now in your hand. “What do you reckon Shiki?” You picked up a chocolate and examined it. It seemed handmade and seemed delectable.

“It looks good. Handmade.” Shiki noted.

“Yeah, I still have no idea who gave it to me although I have to give it to them. It looks delicious.” You took a bite. “And tastes delicious too.” You were lost in thought which made you miss Shiki’s expression, flashing from surprise and returning to normal again. It caught it off guard that you didn't know who gave it to you when it should've been obvious.

“Hmm? Wouldn't that mean you gave someone a valentine?” Shiki asked.

You did plan to give it to the boy beside you but you caught cold feet at the last moment and left the box of chocolates somewhere. You worked really hard on them however you didn't manage to give it to him when you saw his smiling face. He just felt out of reach to you. “Did you get any? Valentine chocolate I mean.” You asked.

Shiki blushed. “Ah yeah, one.”

That made your stomach drop and maybe got you a bit jealous but it's your fault that you ran away at the last moment. Anyways it was you to blame. “Ah I see….” You went quiet.

“Say-” Shiki started.

“I'm going to take my leave now, Shiki. Thanks for the company.” You left the rooftop before Shiki could even speak.

He sighed frustrated at the lost chance. He stared at the box of chocolates that you had forgotten and picked it up. He was ecstatic that you liked it but he wished he would man up and tell you his feelings just like Yohei and Saimon had advised him to. He had hoped to tell you that he had received that box of chocolates. Someone had found them with his name and your signature on it and passed it on to him. He was a blushing mess at that time. To think someone like him to have his feelings returned even though you were unaware of it was absolute heaven. The little animal shaped chocolates you had taken so much care into making almost made him tear up and the short but simple note that you wrote got his heart fluttering. ‘You might not think much of yourself but I think a lot about you.’ was what you wrote. You didn't have the neatest handwriting but he could tell you tried to make it as neat and pretty as possible for him which touched him. He had got back to the bar in such a chipper mood that day even when Ryu came to pick him up he was curious. Saimon and Yohei too but they seemed happy to see him in such a good mood. The box of chocolate you had forgotten would eventually be returned to your desk with a new note hidden in the crevasse of the box. Only when you finished the chocolates would you find it. It would eventually end up going home with you. And that night, you would eventually lie on your bed with the ‘thanks’ note in hand, staring at it. Wondering who it could be and you being full of regrets about missed opportunities with Shiki, things left unsaid. Someday these things will be said but maybe today wasn't the day.

#paradox live #paradox live x reader #ando shiki #shiki ando #shiki ando x reader #white day oneshot #oneshot #at first i was confused why i put the setting there then when i read it to the end it made sense dkdndknd

16 notes · View notes

powerofelvis · 2 years

Text

Merry Christmas, Baby

Pairing: Elvis Presley x f!reader

Word Count: 1K

Warning(s): Fluff that’s it.

A/N: I don’t know what happened with this one. Y’all may like it, but I felt like I could have done better with this one. This request is for my darlin’ @crash-and-cure! I’m so sorry if you don’t like it baby, my brain just wrote this. As usual, this is day 3. I’m probably gonna post another one tonight to make it up to all of you!

Christmas was always such a challenge for you being Elvis Presley’s woman. It wasn’t because of the glitz and glamor of it all, but it was because you were never able to figure out what to give the world’s most famous man and the world’s most incredible gift giver. Elvis was truly prodigious when it came to giving gifts, mostly because he was always giving—even when it wasn’t the holiday season. You would visit every department store in town in hopes to find something that he maybe didn’t have.

Here it is, a week before Christmas, and yet you were still empty handed.

It wasn’t unusual for you to be stomped on what to give Elvis for Christmas, but this year was a bit different. He made it known that he wanted to throw an extravagant Christmas party for

everyone. He wanted the lights, the music, the works so as time ticked closer, you were truly at a loss for what to give your husband. You wondered how you would get out of this stomp—until you saw his spirituality collection looked awfully bare.

You knew there was one thing that Elvis loved more than anything in the world was his relationship with God. He would always be up during the times of the night, reading over his numerology books and writing things down that he had heard from the Lord. However, you had no clue where you could get such books, unless you went to the local bookstore. “Jesus baby, what has you lookin’ like a spring chicken this morning?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin at Elvis’ voice as he walked into the kitchen, where you were currently sitting in front of your morning coffee, hands in your hair—deep in thought. You gave your husband a small smile, taking in his appearance as it seemed he was getting ready to leave for the day. Good, he can leave and I can go find my gift for him. “Oh, it’s nothing, baby. I’m just thinking about the Christmas party next week. We have to get so much done,” You began as you could see his face contort into a smile.

“There’s nothing to worry about, baby. I have everything handled. You just worry about having my gift ready, sugar. I know you’re gonna knock me off my chair again this year.” Your heart jumped into your throat because you didn’t have his gift yet, but you were indeed going to knock him off of his ass. Once your husband left for his daily duties of being a famous superstar, you went off to find his gift.

Christmas finally made its appearance, you being the first out of the bed as you raced down the stairs. Elvis peeked his head out of the door, clearly scared awake at your abrupt departure from your shared bed. “Baby, what in the hell has gotten into you? You jumped out of the bed like someone lit a match under your ass.” He laughed as he watched you from the top of the stairs. His present had finally come and you were filled with Christmas joy.

“It came! It came baby, come see what I got you!” Elvis came down soon after, clearly confused about what had you so happy. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear. “Darlin’, what made you so excited this morning?” You turned around to him, placing a wrapped present in his hands. You had asked them to wrap it with their best wrapping paper and ribbon. Only the best for your Elvis.

Elvis unwrapped his present, his eyes lightening with joy at the spirituality book that was engraved with both of your signs and initials. Recently, he was becoming more obsessed with spirituality but his schedule was so busy that he didn’t have time to get more books. It may have seemed like something meniscal to the normal people, but he knew that his wife took pride in the little things. One of the main reasons that he married her.

The tears fell from his cheeks as he wrapped his arms around her, pressing his lips to hers in a sweet kiss. “Doll, it may not seem much to you, but I’m truly blessed to have you. How did you know that I wanted this?” You wrapped your arms around his neck as you pulled him into a hug. “I knew how much you were into spirituality lately, so I decided that I would gift you something that was from the heart. I know you have everything already, baby. But one thing that is priceless is your love for the Lord.”

He pressed his forehead to yours as he sniffled a bit, the emotions at its peak and it wasn’t even noon yet. He reached under the tree to grab one of the presents that he had for you, placing it in your hands. “I’ve waited months for you to see this, baby. I hope you like it.” You giggled, noticing that his boyishness was showing. He always wanted you to like the gifts that he gave you—sometimes to the point that he would offer to return the gift and buy you something that you liked.

You didn’t waste time on opening the box that was in your hands. It was a necklace that you saw in the store window the other day, but it was engraved with your name and his. You didn’t even know that he knew that you wanted it as he was always gone because of the strenuous schedule that his manager had him doing. You were full of emotions, but nothing would pass your lips. Instead, you pressed your lips on your husband’s sweetly.

“Merry Christmas, Baby.” Elvis whispered against your lips softly before returning to kissing you. For the remaining day, you were surrounded by family and friends, but it felt like it was only the two of you. He never left your side, wrapping his arms around you and following you like a lost puppy. You were truly in love with this man, lucky to be his. This was a beautiful Christmas indeed.

#elvis presley #elvis 2022 #elvis x reader #elvis presley fluff #daisy’s 12 days of christmas requests #daisy writes #elvisaaronpresley #elvis presley x reader

184 notes · View notes

siriuslystargazing · 11 months

Text

Sirius' Moving Castle PT1

... yeah i know it's probably been done before but what the hell.

In a small town, hidden amongst the valley, is a boy who makes shoes. These shoes are nothing special, but the boy tirelessly works on seven pairs a day unless he feels life broguing, and then it’s five pairs that day. But today, the boy made six and a pair of brown boots for himself. Simple in style but a perfect fit for himself. The boy looked out the window of the luxurious department store his mother owned, dusting off his hands and pulling up his goggles; soot from the fire pit left an ashen impression that covered his freckles but highlighted his amber eyes. His hair flopped around like a mop, and his mother was starting to nag at him. He did need a haircut, and it was the first Friday of the month, so that meant it was a half day.

“Remus dear”, the motherly voice came through from the grand shop floor, followed by a plain woman with chestnut hair. He opened the door to his tiny workshop. “oh good, you're getting ready. I want you to drop off this hat to Lily at the bakery.” her name was Hope. Hope Lupin, the local seamstress who fashioned the most exquisite dresses from the simplest of materials and the owner of Lupin’s Bazaar, the quality department store and hidden gem of the little village hidden away in the valleys. Remus looked at his mother, smiling. Remus thought he was plain like his mother, with sandy blond curls and amber eyes freckles that glittered on his face.

“Of course, I was thinking I might go to the barbers this afternoon to get my hair sorted.” Remus pulled the ribbons of his apron, shrugging it off and hanging it on the hook by the door. Hope held her son’s face in her hands, her heart melting at how Remus was growing older and into his face. “What?” Remus looked down at his new boots, letting a nervous chuckle slip,

“Nothing, Fy mab.” Hope planted a kiss on his forehead. She let him go, handing over the elaborate hat box to Remus as he left the shop.

The brass bell on the front shop door chimed in exit, but Hope did not let Remus leave without warning. “Do be careful on your way home, Remus. I heard news that the Dark Wizard Black is in the valleys!”

Remus rolled his eyes and bid his mother farewell, entering the streets. He wasn't sure why his mother would warn him the Dark Wizard didn’t go for men. He only kidnapped pretty girls with no brains. Remus winced. He could feel the scolding his mother would give if he said that out loud, but it was a half-truth. Remus hated girls like that who just giggled and curled their hair around their fingers and batted their eyelashes at him. He wasn’t even into girls, but still, he would at least like to hold a conversation with them on more exciting topics. That’s why he liked going to see Lily. She was smart and enjoyed talking about the mysteries of the world.

Remus continued down the street. Colourful bunting hung from the lamposts, and streamers were being fired off. The kingdom’s flag was flown from nearly every window and in front of horrible flying machines the domain felt so proud of investing in. It appeared The war effort was going well. A fresh batch of soldiers had just returned a few hours before, and another was about to be dispatched, but not without the pomp and circumstance. Remus saw it as a massive waste of time and money. The war was pointless over some missing prince and this war-hungry general from way up north fighting with the Wizard of the Wastes. Remus didn’t care for the politics of it all. He just wanted it over. In his eyes, if the great Kingdom of Griffdom had put the efforts and resources they did for the war into finding the Lost prince, he would have been found by now! Remus stayed on his path, avoiding the crimson and gold soldiers and drunken patriots. Heading down a secluded alleyway, it wasn't any better. He could see the piles of ready-to-go packs and guns of the soldiers; it made him feel uneasy, but still, the bakery was just around the corner–

“You look a little lost?” a gruff older voice called out from behind Remus. He stopped suddenly tensing as a second, much older man appeared in front of him, a bushy moustache and a hungry grin on his face as he met Remus’ amber eyes.

“I’m not lost”, Remus stated, straining himself up. “if you don’t mind, I'm running late–”

“He is quite cute.” the moustached man bent down to look at Remus in the eyes. Remus was tall, a good 6 foot, but he was skinny like a noodle and had terrible posture like one, too. The soldiers were also tall but stocky, just vast masses of men. “You look a little thirsty. Why don’t we treat you to some Tea?” he asked, his primal grin unnerved Remus even more. Remus wasn’t one to baulk at the sign of danger, but the men that were harassing him felt an unhuman sort of evil festering inside them. Remus stepped back into a body.

“There you are, starlight; I’ve been looking everywhere for you”, a sultry voice, and a warm, comforting hand fell onto Remus's shoulder. Remus didn’t turn to look at the man that was essentially saving his ass but instead melted slightly.

The crimson soldiers soured at the presence of their prey being stolen. “do you mind? We were just –”

“Actually, it looked like you two were just leaving”, his silken voice spoke out again, and he lifted his index finger. The soldiers puffed out their chests, ready to fight, but stopped. Remus looked on in awe as the two men stood up straight and marched away like toys. Remus watched on in amazement. It was magic, real magic, so that meant only one thing: the man who was currently rescuing him was Sirius Black, the Dark Wizard. “Don’t hold it against them; the soldiers from this kingdom aren’t as bad... Now, where to?” Sirius bent down, picking up the hat box Remus so carelessly dropped; it really was him; with blond hair and steely grey eyes, he didn’t suit being a blond. Remus thought his complexion was too pale. He would be better with jet-black hair. Wait? Why did he even care?

“So where to?” gods above his voice were like melted chocolate. Remus wanted to combust every time the Dark Wizard Sirius Black opened his stupid mouth…

“Oh, the um bakery.” Remus was sure he was blushing. His face felt hot. Sirius just smirked, slinking his arm with Remus and walking along the alleyway. His aggressively bright coat hung on his shoulders; obviously, it was kept there with his dark wizard magic. And then his waist. Remus was staring, and he didn’t care. He was also drooling a little at how Sirius's black high-waisted dress pants and a simple white frilly dress shirt hugged his slutty waist and fit him so perfectly. Then he saw his shoes… oh.

They were worn and not looked after, in dire need of a polish, and the leather needed rehydrating. They were abysmal. They–

“Everything all right there?” Sirius drawled, capturing Remus’ attention again

“YES!” to loud! “Yes, it’s just your shoes, you might need new ones… if you come by the shop, I can–”

“Thank you starlight, but I must–” Sirius stopped, sensing a shift in the air. Remus just watched him. “Don’t get alarmed, but it appears we are being followed.” Remus went rigged, followed! But Sirius just smirked as they continued down the alleyways. “Just act normal.”

Something began oozing out of the walls; they morphed and slobbered across the floor, coating the cobbles in the dark, inky sludge as they manipulated themselves with human-like features, Giant noses and little straw hats. Sirius frowned but continued, “I’m sorry, it looks like you’re involved.” Remus gasped as many black oozy creatures slithered out the walls and shadows climbing over each other towards Remus and Sirius.

Sirius quickly whipped round the corner with casual grace, the sunlight beaming into the alleyway. His smile wiedend, but Remus scoffed. How can he be so happy? It is horrible being chased around by slimy, oozy creatures! And now the creatures were oozing out from the exit. They were doomed; Remus looked over to Sirius, who was still beaming with pride as he swiftly moved the arm he had linked with Remus’ through his waist, drawing him closer to his side. “Hold on”, Sirius muttered as they continued walking with speed and Woosh!

Remus closed his eyes and felt the calm spring wind and the sudden warm embrace of the sun. he peeled his eyes open, not feeling the solid ground underfoot, but could still feel Sirius' tight grip on his waist. Remus looked out, shocked; he could see the rolling hills of the valley and the river that splits into a stream that runs through town, even the noon train! He was flying!

“Come on now, straighten your legs and start walking.” Sirius grabbed Remus' hand in his; Remus slowly extended his legs and began a walking motion; they were walking on air! But how? Remus looked down at the waltzing people; mothers danced with their sons and husbands, and young lovers waltzed for the final time as the music played out. Remus couldn’t describe the feeling, but a little bit of his heart broke at the sight, the thought of the men going out to the awful war never to return–

“Look at you, you’re a natural.” Sirius looked at Rmeus as they met eye to eye. Remus felt his heart fluttered as he lost himself in those stormy grey eyes. The two continued to walk on air, swiftly passing the street parties below and towards the giant bakery.

Sirius landed on the railing of the balcony. Pulling Remus down gently, landing just below him, Remus finally got a moment to drink the handsome stranger who saved his life. He was gorgeous, just like the rumours said, with grey eyes that swirled like storms and blond hair that shimmered in the sun, with a mole under his right eye, sharp features and a constant smirk he was the Dark Wizard but how can someone so evil be so good looking? Remus let Sirius’ pale hand slip from his, and he landed on the oak wood balcony. Sirius handed over the hat box and laid his hand above his heart.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to draw them off, but wait a while before heading out again”, his voice silken and smooth, so intoxicating. Remus swore he could get drunk on it even if he just sang the alphabet.

“Okay”, Remus sighed. Sirius smirked, jumping off the balcony; Remus gasped, leaning over.

“That's my boy”, he smiled, disappearing into the streets below.

The bakery was busier than ever. Lily was used to mad rushes like this, but it was even more active than expected, thanks to the street parties. The tables in the small cafe were all occupied by soldiers and their entourage of women and men. Lily went back and forth, listening to orders, grabbing perfectly wrapped boxes of business from the shelves and trying to distance herself from the more suggestive men who only wanted her and not the pastries. Luckily, one of the other bakery girls ran over to her, telling her that Remus was upstairs waiting on her.

Lily sped through the corridors and up the staircase to find Remus looking out the window as if he was searching for answers.

“Remus!” Lily cheered, running up to him and embracing the skinny boy in a tight hug. “One of the girls told me you landed on our balcony!” Remus looked at Lily. Something sad hid in his eyes.

“So it really did happen. It wasn't a dream?” Remus whispered. Lily hugged him again, pulling him down the stairs and into the delivery room behind the kitchen.

Lily dusted off a few crates, sitting Remus down. He was still dazed as if he was running through what had happened, and then he remembered the hat box.

“Oh! Your hat, Lily, Here.” He handed it over. Lily smiled but did not open it. She just set it down.

“Will you tell me what happened?” she grabbed a few pastries from the kitchen, and a chef followed her with two mugs of sweet tea; they sat for a few minutes as Remus gave her the rundown of his encounter with the Wizard. Lily listened intently, her eyes fixated on her friend as he looked at the bottom of his teacup.

“He must have been a wizard then Remus!” Lily protested, grabbing Remus' shoulders

“But he was so kind to me, Lily.”

“Of course he was! He was trying to steal your heart!” Lily scrunched up her face, but Remus still stared out towards the piled stock boxes. She sighed. “you were so lucky, Remus. If that Wizard were Sirius, he would have eaten it”, Lily softened, slumping back, but Remus looked up at her.

“No, he wouldn’t. Sirius only eats the hearts of beautiful girls, not plain boring men like me.”

“Don't say that!” Lily shrieked, “You need to be more careful out there. The wizard of the waste is back on the prowl. And his horrible henchmen, too, call themselves Death Eaters such a pretentious name– Hey! Are you even listening to me?” Lily looked down at Remus, who was lost in deep thought, probably thinking about the pretty wizard who saved him (he was).

Lily and Remus sat in the stock shed for a while until one of the chefs told her some fancy pastry was done, so Remus took that as his cue to leave; he was sure he had given himself plenty of time for the Wizard to get rid of throes horrible oozy blob men. Remus bid Lily farewell and went on his way back through the once-crowded streets. The Parties had finally ended, yet a few piss-ups continued in the teaveners. Remus contemplated a drink but decided just to go home; he had enough excitement to last him a lifetime.

By the time the tram took him back to the shopping district of the town, night had fallen across the valley, and the stars peaked through the clouds. Remus always stole a glance at the stars; he loved how pretty they looked, and the vibrant blue-green hues the clustered ones emitted were his favourite. He couldn’t quite grasp why he was so fond of the night sky or why he enjoyed tracking moon cycles. He honestly believed in a past or alternate life; he might have been a werewolf or something. Remus chuckled at the thought, his breath curling the cool spring air.

The shop lights were out, an obvious sign Hope had gone to bed upstairs. Remus decided to go through the main entrance so he wouldn't disturb his mother; the shop was grand in design. The main floor was full of women's hats, and just at the back were the shoes, all the boots that Remus had made that month; he looked down at the new pair he had made just that day, smiling at the thought of his father being proud of him. Lyall had gone to war two months prior, but no word had come from him. Hope stayed strong and ironically hopeful, but Remus was sure his father was dead; it was easier to think that than torture himself with the idea he was missing in action. Remus tidied the shop floor up, putting hats back on the stands and pulling a few pairs of boots down to give them a touch of polish when the bell rang from the front door. Remus furrowed his brow, looking up. He could have sworn he locked that door. Remus got up, heading to the front desk. Standing in the foyer, grinning ear to ear with gnarly teeth and a beastly face, was a Death Eater. Remus schooled his features to a neutral calm. He could hazard a guess as to what dark magic the Death Eater had used might have involved heightened animalist traits if he went off the strange maw-shaped mouth and nose.

“I’m sorry, sir, the shop is closed. You’re more than welcome to visit tomorrow during our opening hours of 9 am to 4 pm,” Remus stated, keeping his cool; the beastly Death Eater grinned, baring his disgusting teeth.

“What a tacky shop... And yet you’re by far the tackiest thing here,” she growled. Remus narrowed his gaze, keeping his temper in check as he marched over to the door, whipping up the air around the Death Eater. His foul smell made Remus’ eyes water as he pulled the door open.

“Like I said, we're closed!”

Death Eater held his smile as if he had just caught his next meal. “Standing up to the Beast of the wastes, Fenrir Greyback”, Fenris chorteled. He unsheathed his clawed hands, and the firelight from the oil lamp danced across his black fingernails; Remus stood his ground. Just because Greyback, the beast from the western wastes and loyal Death Eater to the Wizard of the Wastes, was threatening him didn’t make him cower didn’t mean he wasn't scared shitless either way.

Remus stood his ground, but Greyback didn’t care. He widened his eyes as dark magic flowed through and as if he turned into smoke. Greyback ran through Remus, leaving a viscous curse in his wake. Remus gasped at the feeling. He turned to see Greyback in the doorway, smirking. “The best thing about that spell is you can’t tell anyone about it.” Greyback grinned. “Riddle sends his regards to the Brothers Black.”

Remus dropped to the ground, his body weak and heavy. He tried to run after Greyback but felt he had no energy left in him. Whatever that curse was, it obviously wasn't good. Remus pulled himself up, groaning. His bones creaked, clicked and popped worse than ever. He stumbled over to the vanity mirror, peering at his reflection, but an old withered man, a much older greyer version of Lyall, stared back at him. Remus gasped, taking a step back. Indeed, it wasn't him. Surely, he wasn't an old man. He was 18 years old, for god's sake.

Remus thought this couldn’t be happening. Perhaps it was just a bad dream or a funny hallucination from all the sugar at the bakery. Remus lifted his wrinkled hands to his face, pulling at his leathery skin; it was definitely him in that mirror. On the bright side, he wasn't a dog or a wolf-shaped man. He was glad about that. Remus paced around as much as his old legs would let him; in his mind, he was still 18, but his body was pushing 90, it seemed. The only thing he could think of doing was to go to bed to sleep and hope he woke up himself and not an old man. So Remus did.

#wolfstar #marauders #marauders fic #harry potter #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #howls moving castle #AU fic #fan fiction #long fic #xSIRIUS' MOVING CASTLE

33 notes · View notes

algolstare · 6 months

Text

My beautiful writing tool of choice to stay up way too late getting some not-so-great wip stuff out so that sometime later it can become somewhat-okay wip stuff

Cold snow crunched under her boots, & Annetta could feel the chill even more than before, as if it were gnawing at her with growing hunger. Her hair blew about, ends flicking her cheeks. The North Wind, which had carried her all this way, now played with falling snowflakes, sending them sideways & in spinning spirals of white.

Through the flurry, the young girl could just make out the dancing ribbon of green fire above her. The aurora looked as if it were making itself into a crown for the cold mountain that lay close ahead. Fluttering, for a moment she thought of great dragons – fire-breathing, girl-eating beasts. If only she had the comfort of a fire.

Annetta continued to plod along, one freezing foot in front of the other. Slipping a hand into her pocket, she felt the smooth facets of the gem, rubbing over the faces of it with her thumb. She dared not pull it out of its hiding place too soon.

As she came fully upon the base of the mountain, she saw the promised archway looming tall, nearly taller than the treetops. Worn stone, surely ages old, solemn carvings still clear. She ran her small hand over a portion, & felt almost as if the stone was humming beneath her palm. For a moment she considered her own hand, not nearly able to cover a single symbol, chapped & red.

Many more pattering steps into the grand archway, & Annetta faced the door. It felt as if it bore down on her with all its weight, for a brief moment the girl was fixed in place by the magnitude of her quest.

The North Wind howled as it went over the old stones, & she steeled herself. With both hands, the little child pushed at the great door with all her might.

For a long moment she feared it wouldn't budge, but then, with a loud rumble & groan, slowly the door gave way enough for little Annetta to slip through. It slammed shut behind her as soon as she was inside, & no longer could she hear the wind.

Instead, there was now a distant thudding. With each step through the huge hall, the air around her grew warmer. The noise was clearer with every moment, thudding turned to hammer striking metal, footsteps, & the murmur of conversations whose words she couldn't make out.

Ahead, shadows were cast on the wall, opposite another doorway through which warm light poured out. Her steps became lighter, & she held herself closer to the wall. Peeking her head just enough to see, Annetta held her hand over her mouth to muffle a gasp.

All throughout the humongous room were dwarves at work, some on various crafts so beautiful, others carrying raw metals about, still others polishing, sharpening, tinkering. Glittering piles of finished pieces in silver, bronze & gold lay about, most on tables.

Pulling back behind the doorframe, Annetta closed her eyes & took in a deep breath.

"What've we got here, a thief?"

Stood in the doorway was a dwarf with rosy cheeks & a beard that nearly reached the ground. The little girl stepped into full view, & saw some of those closest had paused their work in alarm. She was nearly, but not quite, the man's height.

"No, sir, no thief am I,"

Her voice came out just barely louder than a whisper. With a trembling hand, little Annetta pulled the gem out & held it high. It caught the torchlights & forge-fires in its faces, & bent them into blue refractions that danced across their landings.

"You are the dwarves that live in the only mountain to remember the shape of its root,"

More had stopped their doings to stare.

"Long has my journey been on the North Wind's cold back, past the lamp of night that guards this place from travelers,"

A clump of melting snow slid from her shoulder & plopped onto the stone floor.

"I've pulled seven silver scales from the winding-wyrm of West-of-Wyrd, I have traded my hair for a jewel from the Queen of Elf-hame's stores that holds three tears inside,"

The blue light of the gem quickened its motions, appearing as if to spin & wink. Annetta's heart dropped as she recalled the curse placed upon the jewel, the price of its miracle. She had been a fool to take the fairy's words at face-value, but there was naught she could do now.

"I have come to demand the fulfillment of Gulgorra's promise to Morguen, that you make a ring of the gem, for which the only price may be my own two hands."

The dwarf in front of her combed his fingers through his beard, looking from the still-shining jewel to her with furrowed brows. She was sure she was insulting them, there was no benefit to them at all. Annetta thought of her mother, skin & bones, hair coming out in clumps as she tried to brush it.

"And something I may safely carry it home in, please,"

She added in a quivering voice.

#teddy art wip #i suppose?#decided to just pick details via mental dart throw & change them later if i feel they dont fit #rather than sit there & obsess only to deconstruct & reconstruct my web later

1 note · View note

the-yandere-cryptid · 3 years

Note

Female!reader Prime Merlinean is hiding from yandere Horvath, but it’s only a matter of time before he finds them.

maxim horvath getting more than a little obsessed with f!reader, who is also the prime Merlinian

I’m currently working on the continuation to Low Lays the Devil but, that’s slow-going so have some Horvath to quench the thirst in the meantime \m/

You weren’t sure how he managed to keep up. You knew this area of New York like the back of your own hand, had used every side street and crowded sidewalk to try and give your tail the slip, but it felt futile. Even your best efforts didn't slow the enemy at your heels, always following just a short distance away. Horvath had switched forms a few times, appeared as various other bystanders, but his magical cane gave him away every time. You wondered why he didn’t whisk it away as part of his disguise, and the only answer you could figure was that he wanted you to know that he was still behind you. The implications of that only pushed you into a deeper panic.

You needed to lose him before he managed to catch you alone.

You rounded a corner, giving yourself a precious few seconds out of eyesight. You ducked into the entrance way of the shop on the corner, barely sparing a glance to see if anyone was looking before phasing your body through the glass door. Rushing past huge rolls of fabric and yarn displays, you ducked behind the counter and crossed your fingers hoping Horvath would disappear. The store was dark and the shadows passing by gave you little to go off of, so you counted the seconds passing on your fingers until a whisper caught your attention.

Ears perked, you crawled on your hands and knees to peek around the counter, eyes widening at the sight of gray smoke oozing in through the cracks of the door. It moved pointedly around the room, combing over the displays while you went back to cowering behind the register. All your fear about being cornered, and here you had gone and cornered yourself! You kept your body tucked as flat against the counter as you could physically manage, frozen still while the cool smoke rushed over you. It lingered in front of you for a moment before zipping back to the door, the whisper becoming fervent.

Shit. You sprung to your feet, running around the counter as the smoke began to solidify. He was blocking the door, so you made a run for the glass storefront, trying desperately to push the huge wooden display back far enough that you could phase through. Thin string wrapped around your ankles, and you held fast to the shelving to keep yourself from being pulled back.

“I’ve already caught you, Mišiću.” He was approaching, pulling harder on the yarn. Your feet floated off the ground, body nearly horizontal as you fought his influence. Then, a hand gripped your ankle instead. “No use in squirming.”

You panicked, using your ring to grab the first thing you felt and winging it in Horvath’s direction. He caught the massive skein of yarn with one hand, tugging you away from the display and throwing you as if you weighed as much as the wool. Magic controlled the way you soared across the room, ending with your back pressed against the far wall and your arms crossed over your chest. Horvath split the paper holding the bundle together and charmed the yarn into unraveling, slithering over to your body and wrapping around you.

“No use in running, either,” he added, walking the thread closer to you. You felt the thick wool change as it snaked around your form, becoming thinner, wider, sleeker. Its rich red color became shiny, the satin ribbon coming to meet at your front and weaving itself into a massive, elaborate bow. It squeezed you tight before settling, and Maxim reached up to adjust the two loops with his own hands, his grin nothing short of wicked.

“For me? You shouldn’t have.”

#maxim horvath #maxim horvath x reader #sorcerer's apprentice #yandere scribbles #drabble

110 notes · View notes

tobesobri · 4 years

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

hoe-doroki · 3 years

Text

steel and lace

minors do not interact

warnings: 18+, anal play, sex toys, voyeuristic fantasy, scratching, creampie

pairing: bakugou x fem!reader

wc: 3.8k

summary: The only one who manages to get Bakugou’s birthday right is you.

a/n: This is my addition to the Bakugou Birthday Bash collab (masterlist). Many thanks to @lady-bakuhoe for helping me flesh out the ideas with this story!! You were integral to this idea, love! And additional thanks to @whats-her-quirk and @therealvalkyrie for beta reading <333

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

Bakugou never took work off on his birthday.

Never. Why would he? Villains didn’t give a shit that this was the day the old hag had unceremoniously had him evacuated into a hospital room however many years ago. They didn’t give a shit that his friends—who were also heroes who should be fucking working, by the way—wanna come over to his house and surprise him. As though his reconnaissance-trained ears weren’t as fucking fine tuned at hearing idiots on the other side of the door as theirs.

What villains should care about was that he was a year older, wiser, and fucking stronger, and he was going to kick all their asses. That was what he told all his idiot friends every year when they asked him if he was going to take off work.

Every year he regretted it.

The idiots he works with really must not care about hero work, because every year they want to send him out on a field post sugar crash from some store-bought cake with his name on it. Or buy him gifts that he’ll probably toss in the trash on the way home. He’s not being rude; he just doesn’t need junk that he never would have bought himself in the first place.

Everyone is always grinning at him, wishing him a happy birthday—as though he’s any goddamn happier to see their ugly mugs flapping their lips at him—and trying to start stupid-ass conversations. If he doesn’t like small talk normally, why would he want it on his birthday?

And the singing.

If people really wanted to wish him a happy birthday, they’d find a way to do it silently while doing some respectable fucking hero work. Make his day easier.

But no, none of that was what happened. So he should have just stayed home. Let the villains have a fucking field day on April 20th, and he could have his real gift killing them all tomorrow on the 21st.

But, unfortunately, he was a dumbass and had gone to work anyway, like he’d learned nothing from the last many years of antics. And the continued antics had got him a little pissy. And when he was pissed off, his heart rate increased, his breathing grew heavier, and, of course, he sweat.

Well. Guess what happened?

“Bakugou, I am currently paying to treat burns and fractures on three villains. Care to explain?”

Best Jeanist was sitting in his office chair, blinding sunlight streaming in behind him. Late afternoon sun—darker in color but way more resentful towards human eyes, apparently. It was reflecting off of all of the neighboring glass corporate buildings, making Bakugou squint behind his mask.

Bakugou shrugged, petulant as he stood behind his chair instead of sitting in it. “Overkill.”

Best Jeanist nodded. “Did you…lose control?”

“Tch,” Bakugou scoffed. As if he ever lost control. “Villains were weaker than I thought.”

Bakugou felt the stare of that one fucking eye and stood firm. He knew he was looking at a suspension, hopefully just for a day or two. It wasn’t like he’d done anything terrible. Villains got hurt sometimes, just like pros did, and they got their care and then they got their justice. It’s not like Bakugou was violent on purpose. Anymore. And Jeanist sure as hell knew that, so it wouldn’t take Bakugou off the field for more than a slap on the wrist. He probably wouldn’t even be technically suspended. Just chained by the fucking dick to his desk with some paperwork.

“Just…” Bakugou braced for it, narrowing his eyes but keeping his snarl to a minimum. “Just be more careful next time. Shower and go home—see you tomorrow.”

Bakugou’s jaw dropped. He closed it quickly, trying not to look like Dunce Face in front of his boss, but in all that was real and true what? He was just about to say something—he didn’t know what, probably something insubordinate—when Best Jeanist took out his own paperwork and waved him away.

“Happy birthday, Bakugou.”

Oh. So that was it.

Bakugou grit his teeth. Happy fucking birthday indeed.

It was nothing. His brain told him over and over again that it was fucking nothing. He hadn’t been punished, he hadn’t even really done anything wrong; he just hadn’t been squeaky clean up to fucking code. He could still show up for work tomorrow, business as usual. He should be tickled fucking pink.

But he wasn’t. Special treatment for being the birthday boy? What was he? Five years old and given a pass after stealing the chicken nuggets off Deku’s plate? Jesus Christ.

And if he was honest, he was mostly pissed at himself. Sure, he could blame how the weather always seemed to sprint from spring to summer around his birthday every year, strengthening his quirk. He could blame the villains for being weak enough that they had no business even stepping foot in his neighborhood. But losing control of his quirk even a little—and it had been a little—was fucking amateur and he’d have to pencil in some extra time at the gym. Maybe snatch Shitty Hair for some sparring, and, unfortunately, probably nab an extra therapy session and talk about this anger thing again.

At least walking instead of sitting on that stifling, crowded train car was doing him some good. Let him cool off a bit before he got home and you saw that something was wrong. He was nearly entirely relaxed by the time he got to his building’s lobby, even having the grace to nod at the concierge—who didn’t know it was his birthday, thank God—before heading up the elevator.

When he got off on his floor, it suddenly occurred to him that you might have done something truly repulsive, like inviting his friends over. He could imagine Shitty Hair’s shitty fucking hair sticking up from behind your sofa as he tried to hide before leaping up and yelling surprise.

Well, if that was the case, then the surprise was going to be him kicking all his dumb friends out of the apartment with one foot. Ain’t no way he was going to host a party on his birthday.

It turned out his worry was for nothing, though, because when he turned the knob—fully braced to punch out some teeth with his other hand—he was greeted with a totally bare apartment.

Like barren.

For starters, it was perfectly clean. Bakugou kept a tidy house normally, but this was certainly cleaner than he’d left it this morning. But more than that, there was nothing extra lying around. No stupid friends. No presents. No cake or even the smell of one. It was almost disconcerting.

No, it was a relief. A relief because he didn’t want any of that stuff. He’d had the slice of cake at work—and was slightly hangry now to show for it—and wasn’t interested in having another. And even though you’d choose better gifts than the extras at work would, it was nothing he couldn’t buy himself. So no, this was perfect. He was absolutely not disappointed. Maybe a bit confused. But not disappointed.

He took his shoes off and set his things on the small table by the door. Then he wandered into the kitchen, downed some water, and thought about what he might make for dinner. He might have expected that you and he would make dinner together or maybe even that you would have surprised him with something, but he didn’t mind doing it alone. It wasn’t like he’d learned to cook just to find a housewife someday to con into doing it all for him.

He decided to go to the bedroom first to plug in his phone. He was just sliding it out of his pocket when he opened the door, saw you, and stopped short.

You were on the bed—not in bed, but on it—wearing a black zip up with his signature orange x over the chest. You were on your knees with your legs spread wide, looking him dead in the eye with a deadly smirk on your face, painted in bright lipstick.

“New prototype. You like?”

The two of you had met when you were scouted from his parents’ business to design the clothing for his first merchandise line. He’d sworn off dating you from the beginning, because the last thing he wanted was to give the old hag anything to say about, firstly, her being at all responsible for finding him a girlfriend or secondly, the fact that dating a fashion designer would mean he was dating his parents. He’d said fuck that to anyone who would listen.

But you’d gotten his brain from the beginning. Your designs were all sick from the sketch to mock up to the prototypes you always wore for him. Maybe he was a simple man for falling for a girl dressed in his colors, aiming to please him, but fuck it. You were talented, too smart for your own good, and pretty as hell.

So what? Now he had a dream girlfriend and one more reason to fight with his mom. Net positive for sure.

Still, that jacket wasn’t a prototype. That was from his first official line, no doubt, and he’d seen you wear it hundreds of times. He knew from here how much it would smell like detergent and how much like you.

You caught his eyes, raised your brows once, and then pulled the zip on the sweatshirt.

Underneath was nothing but lace and ribbon, contrasting the black and orange of the sweatshirt with moss green outlining your silhouette. The moss green from his gauntlets and his belt was caged around you in the thinnest strips of fabric, scraps of floral barely covering your breasts and pussy. The lingerie was an all-in-one, with the tiny bra connected to the panties by a few ribbons crossing over your belly. Not hiding a damn thing, but showing it off for all its worth.

“Fuck,” Bakugou groaned when the sweatshirt hit the bed, your arms still in the sleeves, but the look underneath now fully revealed to him. He could feel the blood going to his dick, just seeing you on display like that getting him up to half mast in seconds.

“Not a lot of coverage on this version,” you mused, sticking your thumb under a bra strap. “Maybe an edit for the second try?”

Bakugou growled, taking a step forward, but you weren’t done just yet.

“I was also thinking maybe full panties next time,” you said, turning around, sitting on your heels. The sweatshirt hung just below your ass, framing round cheeks that were caged by thin elastic crosses, and that was it. Not so much as a triangle of fabric to speak of. “Maybe write: Property of Dynamight on them? Or is that too much text?”

That was all it took for Bakugou to pounce. One arc of his fist had his shirt thrown with a smack to the floor and then his hands were on your shoulders, spinning you face up as he pushed you flat on the bed.

“You know I don’t like unnecessary words,” he growled.

And then he was kissing you, a hand running up the falke stockings pinned on your thighs as you pulled your arms out of the sweatshirt. One leg came up automatically to wrap around his hip, and Bakugou began rutting against your center, fully hard already. On his second grinding thrust, his pants snagged on the scrap of lace you were wearing. Wetness was already glistening on his trousers and he moved his thumb down to your core, groaning at what he felt.

“Crotchless panties?” he mumbled against your mouth. “You’re making this too easy, sweetheart.”

“Shouldn’t have to work so hard on your birthday,” you mewled.

There was a rumble in Bakugou’s throat, half scoff, half chuckle. “Yeah, remind me of that next year, will you?”

You were soaked already—the swipe of his thumb told you that much. Either you’d gotten really excited when he’d texted you that he was coming home early, or you’d…gotten yourself excited at some point after. Either way, it meant that foreplay could wait for round two.

He pulled his thumb away from your core and pressed it against your lip, smudging what lipstick had survived the kisses down your chin. You were half ruined already. You stuck your tongue out and licked at essence on his thumb before sucking it into your mouth, eyes wide as you looked up at him. Fuck, he could feel himself straining against his pants, grinding circles against your half-bare cunt for a spot of relief.

After you licked him clean, he took his hand back, leaving your mouth open and wanting as he began to fuss with the front of his pants. He caught your smudged lips again, holding your jaw with one hand as he pushed his pants down with the other. He pulled his lower half away from you, kicking off the pants—hadn’t bothered with boxers for the commute home—and let them slide off the edge of the bed.

“Ready?” he asked.

Your smile was big and you bit the tip of your tongue, nodding your head twice. That was all he needed. He grabbed his cock in his fist and slid it through your wetness just once, and then he pushed himself in.

Immediately, he felt the drag of something hard and angled against your lower wall right along his cock, pressing from tip to base as he slid home inside of you.

“Woah,” he groaned. “What the fuck?”

You giggled, the action making your walls flutter against him.

“Got myself a new toy,” you said coyly, wrapping your legs around his hips. “Promise you can get yourself something pretty on my birthday too.”

Bakugou reach a hand around your thigh, feeling the elastic garter pulled taut against the stockings that were rubbing so deliciously against his back and his hips. He grabbed a handful of your ass, and the tips of his fingers felt a rounded edge of warm metal slid just between your ass cheeks.

“You fucking naughty minx.” Bakugou grinned, showing all his teeth, rearing back out of you before thrusting back in, feeling the novel pressure of the toy on the way out and back.

No wonder you had been so wet to begin with. You must have lubed yourself up before putting in that butt plug—which wasn’t small, from what he could feel of it. He could imagine you, one leg up on the sink, ass sticking out as you fingered yourself, mouth dropping open when you inserted the toy. How cold it would have been when it first touched your pert little hole and how you’d gotten it all warm for him as you waited with your little secret for him to get home.

“It’s curved to hit prostates,” you gasped as Bakugou rocked hard, steady thrusts into you. “In case you’re interested.”

The thought, much to Bakugou’s surprise, sent a thrill right through his belly down to his dick. He couldn’t help but slam rapidly into you, making your eyes roll back. Fuck, was that something he wanted? It wasn’t something he’d ever thought about, and he didn’t have the mind right now to ponder it.

“God you feel so big.”

“You feel so tight, sweetheart,” Bakugou grunted, refusing to acknowledge the fresh heat that was on his cheeks after your previous comment. “Squeezing me from all sides.”

The butt plug left it so there was barely enough room in your pussy for his cock to pump in and out. The pressure was hard on one side, making him fucking twitch every time the head of his cock caught against it, leading him to opt for long, deep thrusts in and out of you. It was so good that he didn’t even care if the only present he got for his birthday was a little hunk of stainless steel halfway up your ass. He’d gotten home five minutes ago and already he could feel his balls tightening, threatening to bust a nut.

“Just think of it, Katsuki,” you said, your voice dreamy as he fucked you raw. “All the women wearing this set, thinking of you when they show it off for their partners. All wishing that you were the one fucking them. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby? But they’ll never have anything but their husband’s sad cock that they pretend is yours.”

“Fuck,” Bakugou growled, putting a hand on the headboard and nearly splintering it in his grip. You were riling him up and it made him want to press his palm flat against the burnished oak and let off his quirk, send shards flying. His hand was already drenched with more sweat than it should have been, just like with those villains earlier. Goddamn this time of year. He couldn’t help it; his quirk begged for it. He was in dire need of release of some kind, and it wasn’t like he could cum yet. He had to know how your pussy felt when it convulsed around him, ass cheeks tensing and squeezing that toy hard against his cock until he was spurting into you.

Bakugou let off a few crackling pops from his palm, moaning as relief filled him, the tension lessened for a moment. A faint smell of wood smoke spread through the room, slightly embittered by the resin blackening around his hand. One more scorch mark on the bed frame. You groaned underneath him, taken by the sight of Bakugou’s ever-tight control slipping for you. You knew he’d fuck you through the bed until the rest of the frame gave way if he wanted. You’d both be flat on a busted mattress and he’d keep going until he felt you clench around him.

“How’s that sound, Katsu?” you continued, your voice growing higher as Bakugou took his hand off the headboard and pressed four fingers, still sweaty and heated from his quirk, against the lace covering your clit. It was soaked through. “A-Ah, you’d like the idea of a woman home alone, dressed up just for you, fucking herself on the dildo she hides in the back of your closet, screaming out your name and hoping to God that her neighbors don’t hear?”

Bakugou couldn’t do the long, slow thrusts anymore. Your legs had grown tighter around his waist, your calves soft and silken against his ass as he kept his thrusts deep. The butt plug was rubbing against the base of his cock as he pounded into you, his fingers swiping over your clit with little finesse, but speed and steady pressure making up for it.

“But no matter…” you continued, the words coming out in little huffs as you panted with your head thrown back. Bakugou couldn’t resist leaning down and licking a line up the length of your neck, biting your earlobe when he got to the top, “no dildo, no matter how expensive, no matter how long and fat, will be good enough. The whole time…they’ll know they’re missing out. Oh, fuck.”

All of a sudden, your thighs were squeezing tight against his hip bones, arms thrown over his back and finger scratching hot lines that would mark him even more as yours tomorrow. Then you were gasping, walls squeezing and Bakugou fought against your grip to pull out just enough so that the metal toy was rubbing just over the cleft of his head with every convulsion.

He didn’t stand a chance. There was hardly any warning before he was cumming into you, streaks of his seed dribbling out of you. He couldn’t even pump himself through it; you were gripping him so tightly and, more than that, he didn’t want to move. Everything was white hot, so he just waited it out, barely moving save for where his hand was still rubbing over your clit.

Eventually you stopped him, grabbing his wrist just as the grip of your cunt loosened around him. Then you brought his hand, glistening with moisture, up to your mouth, and broadly laved your tongue from the base of his fingers to the tips, looking him dead in the eye. You then brought his hand down to your neck, and allowed him to streak the combined fluids across and down your décolletage.

Fuck—there was no way he was going to work on his birthday next year. He’d let villains overtake the city first.

“They’ll know they’re missing out,” you breathed, and it took Bakugou a second to figure out that you were continuing your voyeuristic fantasy from before, playing it out to the end, “They might even think they understand. But the only one who will truly know, is me.”

You smiled, your eyes and grin both heavy, sleepy, sated.

“Got that fucking right,” Bakugou said, pulling out of you, his cum already dripping down your ass. He eyed it, only catching a glimpse of the glinting metal plug before your legs fell to the bed, spread and limp. He smacked your hip lightly with one hand. “Roll over.”

In no mood to argue, you flipped willingly, ass up, plug still hidden from view. The lingerie was damp in some spots from where your wetness had spilled from your pussy. He leaned his mouth towards one of the strips of elastic stretching against the swell of your ass and bit. You gasped, back arching, and Katsuki smirked as he pulled away.

“A fucking lingerie line?”

A chuckle escaped your throat. “It was supposed to be a joke, but now…”

Katsuki pinched the elastic with his fingers and snapped it, watching the slight jiggle of your cheeks as you jolted. “No.”

“But Katsuki,” you whined.

“Mm,” he amended, as close to ‘maybe’ as you were going to get. You both could always talk about the idea—truly ridiculous idea—later. Katsuki put a hand on one cheek under the strips of lingerie and spread it.

There was the plug, a stainless steel handle. It was thin and shaped like an oblong donut, not like one of those cheap bejeweled things. This one, even just what he could see of it, screamed quality, and, for a moment, Bakugou wondered again what it would be like to wear. If you’d gotten it in, he sure as fuck could. And he did hold a certain anatomical advantage in using it.

He put his thumb and forefinger to the phalange and gave the toy a twist, pressing it just slightly deeper into your hole. You groaned, your voice low and deep in the pillow like when he gave you a back massage. He smirked and kept at it. Seemed this was a birthday gift for him after all.

“Katsu, don’t tease,” you moaned. “Sensitive.”

Bakugou, however, had no mercy. He flipped you over again, pulling a little yelp from you, and then picked you up bridal style, carrying you off the bed.

“Where are we going?” you asked, your voice suddenly much more awake.

“Shower,” he answered simply. He squeezed the meat of your upper thigh. Not quite your ass but close enough for the point to be made. “I’m not done with my present yet.”

#bakugou smut #bakugo smut #bnha smut #mha smut #tw: voyeurism #not/sfw #bakugou birthday bash

798 notes · View notes

sopxhiea · 3 years

Text

Disturbance

Alfie Solomons X Reader

Summary: The scary gangster realizes that there’s only one creature that will not do as he says and his soft spot for the eldest girl grows into something else before he can prevent it.

Part 1

“She’s cranky.”

“Move away if you don’t want this kiss.”

He’s not going to say it.

Not when he watches you fiddle around with the buttons in your hand, the one your younger sister ripped off her jacket the same morning. He will not open his mouth when you come around to talk to him about some shipments and some things that don’t add up. Not even when you’re so close to him, standing right next to his seated form that he can smell the vanilla off you.

Although everyone knows it.

The match was rather uneventful, a test of some sorts for the gangster to make sure he kept his hands to himself. He had behaved, asked after the girls and about you and you’d given him vague information while wearing what he thought seemed like a golden shower. He had gone out to gather himself a few times, leaving a confused pretty lady and snickering Ollie behind.

He was a man that got everything he wanted.

People never said no to him, most of the time they already knew what he wanted anyway but you just toyed with the gangster. A few smiles here and there, a slight touch on his arm and he was feeling some type of way already. He had dropped you off at your house after collecting your sisters and found his eyes searching for you in every little corner.

He was right fucked, as he’d put it.

It’s been a couple of months of you working for the gangster. The workload is significantly demanding and the more time passes, the more jobs he gives you but you don’t dare complain. Your sisters are all in school, some sort of daycare in the weekends whenever you have to work and he’s the one making sure you’re all taken care of.

There’s less screaming in the mornings, as Essie has grown fond of the broad man who shows up nearly every morning with breakfast in his hands. She’s young, and even Lily doesn’t see the way he steals glances your way but Emily, the oldest is not blind and the gangster forgets that. Although he doesn’t mind in the slightest.

The bakery is hot with the changing season, hot to a point where short sleeves do not cut it anymore. The women at the front bakery store have told you to wear skirts, long ones with less garments underneath but you have decided on a dress, nothing fancy but something to get you by around the house as well. It almost hugs you too tight in some areas and you realize this once some bakers start giving you a look but are too afraid to flirt or even comment.

Since you’re off limits.

Apparently everyone knows but you. The workers, the bakers around the front, even Emily but she won’t say a word because she thinks Alfie will take away her going out at night privileges she’s earned by taking care of Lily. You climb the stairs, footsteps soft against the wood and he hears it, almost feels a lump in his throat but decides he’s too much of a man to feel light-headed around a woman, whatever that means.

You knock once and enter, don’t realize the way his eyes are ogling you in the dress you’re in. A smile is apparent on your lips and he knows what day it is.

“Mr. Solomons-”

“‘s Alfie, lass.” he says, like a plea at this point to try and get you stop calling him by his surname. Not only does he want to hear you say his name but the formality does things to him where he has to shift in his pants.

“Mr. Solomons, Lily has that ballet recital today and I was wondering if I could leave early to get ready.” you say and he nods, looking at your eyes the entire time.

He knows what day it is, since Lily has spoken of it so much and you realize the gangster remembers everything, well almost everything, they say. She’s been showing him some moves she’s learned for the recital every morning he’s around and all he’d do was to clap with Essie on his lap.

“When is it, pet?” he asks, the pet name stuck on you after months of working for the man and you don’t mind. If anything, it’s the evident mark on his soft spot for you but you don’t ponder on it too much.

“Around 7, I think. Shouldn’t last too long.” you speak and he throws a light smile your way. His lips are closed this time as he watches you, head to toe and you wonder about how appropriate some things he does around you are.

That is not to say that you’re not oblivious but you’ve been around enough men to know the signs. The way he leans towards you while walking, the small nods he throws your way each time you’re around his perimeter and not to mention Essie telling you that Alfie had been calling you ‘the pretty sister’ for a while now.

But you decide some things take time.

And you speak this time, before he can ang the slight glisten in his eyes do not help. ��You want to come with?” you speak, and his eyebrows raise slowly.

He’s a smart man.

Taking care of his late employee’s girls as much as he could, that was smart. Offering them all his help and even visiting them in the mornings, that was smart. Hiring his pretty little daughter who happens to be an excellent bookkeeper to walk around in dresses, that was not smart.

Going to the younger one’s ballet recital, that would not be smart.

He didn’t care for the talk around town, people loved to gossip and he knew it from being around the streets but he figured it would hurt the little girls and her. And he wouldn’t let that happen, it simply wasn’t smart.

But he did want to see you in a different dress, all dolled up.

He wasn’t too proud of the dreams he’d been having, they were mostly daydreams but he’d caught himself envisioning you in too many scenarios that involved a lack of clothing and an expression of pure bliss. He knew the boundaries but the looks you would give him didn’t help.

“Lily would like it.” you speak and it’s the last blow.

And you know it.

Unlike what many would’ve thought, the gangster is not all he was told to be. Sure, he’s scary looking and very cruel to some but not to little girls. He’s soft, too kind at times you find out as you watch him play with your little sisters every morning.

He doesn’t care, he realizes and the words leave his mouth before he can stop himself, although it doesn’t bother him in the slightest. “I’m fuckin’ there, lass.”

------

He can hear the screaming.

He knocks once on the door and braces himself. The man has been to war, seen dead bodies with their brains all over the soil but this, this he has to get ready for. Emily opens the door with a scowl, which then turns into a smile when she sees it’s him. She’s wearing a pretty dress, hair done beautifully and Alfie wonders how the other ones are looking.

“Hello, Mr. Solomons.” she speaks, Alfie can tell you have taught her to speak that day but reckons he can do better.

“Aye, Emily, what did we say about ya’ callin’ me that, hm?” he asks, not swearing although it takes all his might to be careful.

“But Y/N said-” she says and confirms his suspicions. Alfie throws a smile at the young girl before stepping in and realizing the living room is empty, although the screaming has not stopped.

“Eh, your sister says a lot of things, don’t she.” he asks and sits down on his usual place on the sofa and Emily sits next to the gangster and nods. She’s changing by the passing day and Alfie feels like he can’t catch up.

“Good thing she’s pretty.” Emily says in all seriousness and it causes him to burst into laughter, laughter in which Emily joins her.

And that’s when you emerge from the bedroom.

Lily is holding your hand, wearing a purple dress with ribbons on her hair. Alfie can tell she cried from the hiccups that come and go but she has a smile on her lips now. Essie, on the other hand, is still crying as you hold her on the other side. Her dress is slightly different in color, looks wonderful nonetheless.

And there’s you.

Your dress is slightly shorter and completely different in color. The olive green material ends around just under your knees, with a generous look around your collarbones. Your hair is tied, a low bun which Essie threatens to ruin at any given moment. Alfie feels himself get stuck for a second but Emily slightly elbows him so that the brute can gather himself and speak.

“’ello, pet.” he speaks and Lily slowly approaches him, as she sometimes does and reaches for the beard. Alfie lets him, eyes traveling from the little one to you.

“I didn’t hear you come in.” you say, voice soft as you put Essie on the couch next to Emily so you can get your coat and theirs.

“Em let me in.” Alfie says and Emily nods, her youngest sister on her lap.

“Oh..okay.” you say and disappear behind the door. The entire time, Alfie is watching you go and Emily is watching him. She’s amused to say the least.

And that’s when Essie starts crying again.

You emerge from one of the rooms with all their coats. The little one is not coming with you, as your trusted neighbor has agreed to watch her for the night. You dress Lily and Emily dresses herself in their coats and Alfie clears his throat, making you look up at him and he signals Essie and her crying.

Although he’s far too used to it at this point.

“She’s just cranky, I don’t know why.” you say, clearly frustrated as you finally let go of Lily and reach for Essie to put her coat on.

“Tried the bribin’?” he asks with a smile on his lips and you shake your head.

“Well, if you’re talking about giving her sweets to shut her up....yes.” you say and he chuckles with a curt nod.

Then all of you get in the car, with Alfie’s hand on the small of your back and you carrying Essie. You don’t miss the way Emily looks at you, eyebrows wiggling each time she catches your eye but you just tell her to stay put. Then you drop off Essie, with much trouble and get to the recital with a gangster sitting next to you.

----

The recital goes on pretty smoothly, all cheers and smiles as Alfie lingers at the back. Emily claps for her sister, a smile on her lips as she does so but you excuse yourself a little after to get some air as they get ready for the next act. Alfie watches you walk towards the back part through the exit and decides Emily is old enough to take care of herself.

He finds you sitting on the pavement around the back part of the building, breathing deeply as you look around every now and then. He knows you need these moments. Moments of stillness without any screams, without Emily asking you for a dress or Lily’s chocolate covered hands. He knows you love them but the deed is much too strong for you.

“Y/N.” he says, cautious as he approaches you. You’re no longer sitting but leaning against the concrete block.

“Emily’s inside?” you ask, your prior concern always being your sisters. He nods and speaks.

“Yeah, she ‘s.” he says and you nod this time.

You search his eyes then, for something that will tell you why he’s there. It’s easy to grow fond of him, you think, especially when you see him so much but there’s another side to the coin you don’t like to think of. The danger that comes.

“Something wrong?” you ask and see the heaviness in his gaze. You don’t quite know what it is, since he’s not a man easily read but you figure you know a thing or two by now.

He shakes his head and then looks at you. There’s uncertain things swimming in your orbs much like him and he wonders if they’re the same things. Doubts and then turns his face to look at the sky.

“There’s somethin’, yeah..” he speaks and you know better than to interrupt him. “.....somethin’ I really wanna fuckin’ do.” he says and you nod, urging him to go on but he seems to stall for a second. He then speaks, he’s not looking at the sky anymore but you. “But see, pet, there are things yeah, fuckin’ things blockin’ my way.”

he says and watches you nod, understanding but then you stop and a smile graces your lips. It’s not mocking but not sweet either.

And then you speak, not afraid to counter his words. “I never took you as someone who’d stop just because there were....things blocking the way.” you speak and you half-know what he’s saying.

He’s not the most subtle of admirers. You’re not bothered by it, quite the opposite if anything. You know he’s a man of power, known as cruel to some although you’d speak to differ. His lines are all harsh, you’re too soft compared to him so you don’t count on the opportunity of anything happening.

He takes a step towards you, and then one more until he’s entirely too close. You don’t dare move and his eyes are locked into your lips. You are right, he thinks, he’s not a man that stops at anything just because he’s had a couple of doubts. But then, the doubts are worth taking into account if it’s you. He’s all harsh lines and your softness seems unreachable to him.

His eyes look at your lips for a solid second, his entire presence looming over you as you stay still. He’s tall, a bit too tall for you if you’re honest but you just crane your neck and he leans down slightly, you’d know what his lips would feel like against yours.

And then he moves and speaks. “Move away if you don’t want this kiss.”

He’s not a man of doubts, he gathers and yes, there is a lot at stake but he goes after what he wants. Alfie always has and currently, the thing he wants is standing right in front of him and he’ll be damned if he’s gonna pass up the opportunity to kiss the pretty lass.

His lips are soft, unexpectedly so as his hand finds your waist and resides there while the other cradles your skull with a gentleness that seems foreign to him. He kisses you softly before pulling away slightly to see if you’ve moved in any way but sees you staring at his lips, standing exactly still.

Then you reach for him.

He thinks he’s dreamed it until your lips peck his for the last time and you break the kiss. He sees the blush rising on your cheeks, lipstick smeared and hair slightly puffier than before. He doesn’t take a step back, stares down at you as you fix yourself too fast for him to realize what’s happening but he remembers you’re good at fixing people up.

You sigh, licking your lips once more to savor the feel of his lips before you speak. Your voice is breathy and he has to stop himself from assaulting your lips once more. “Come on, then. Emily will be waiting.”

And he follows you like your tail for the rest of the evening.

-----

He’s smiling like a damn fool.

It’s easy to realize that the big scary gangster is not all that cruel. Sure, there is a side to him that’s simply cruel. He’s not the most forgiving when it comes to some either but he also happens to be a huge teddy bear, you think as you watch him handle Essie after you’ve opened the front door to the house.

“Emily, can you take care of Essie for a minute?” you ask, not waiting for an answer from your sister before you drag Alfie by his sleeve to the kitchen. The girls stare at each other for a while before they all move to their rooms, except Lily who waits for you in front of the door.

You close the door, immediately after he enters the kitchen and look at him with a stern gaze. He’s making it obvious, all of it. The big scary gangster has had a stupid grin on his face ever since you’d kissed him and it makes you frustrated.

“What?” he asks, still smiling a little as you stand in front of him, arms crossed and not amused at all.

“Are you going to stop smiling?” you ask, a slight mock to your words as you stare up at him.

He takes a step towards you then, his aim to trap you between his broad form and the door almost achieved before you escape his embrace by ducking under his arm.

“Lass, come ‘ere.” he says with a tone you haven’t heard before and you don’t follow his orders, as much as you want to.

“Alfie, the girls are right outside.” you say, trying to take steps back each time he takes one towards you. Your back meets the cold wall then, a ‘shit’ passes your lips and he chuckles. His breath tickles your face. It’s not that you don’t want to kiss the gangster but the chance of Emily barging in to see the scene is too high to risk it.

But it seems as though he doesn’t care.

His lips are greedy this time, not as soft as they’ve been as he devours you within the short amount of time he’s given. You moan lowly at the way he’s kissing you and hear a thump against the kitchen door which makes both of you stop.

“Let me in!” Lily screams and it makes Alfie chuckle while all you do is glare.

Before you can open the door and pick your sister up, Alfie traps your small frame between the wall and him again and speaks. He’s not daft and knows how he wants to carry this out. His voice comes out muffled between his small pecks.

“We’ll talk once they’ve gone to fuckin’ bed, yeah, I’ll wait, pet.” he says, eyes greedy as he lets you go. You nod once more before opening the door and taking a red-faced Lily in your arms.

She doesn’t say anything at first but then speaks, connecting the dots a bit faster than you’d initially thought she would. She speaks as loud as she can and you swear she’s doing it on purpose.

“What were you doing?!” she says and finger points at Alfie but before he can answer you put her on the sofa and speak.

“Grown-up stuff.” you say and that seems to shut her up for the time being.

Emily then comes in the living room with Essie on her arms, Lily now sitting on Alfie’s lap as he tells the little girl a story about another dog he had. You watch him as his eyes meet yours in the middle of speaking, a childish glisten before he cradles her in his arms and speaks. “Now, time for bed, innit.”

The rest of the night is filled with you running around as Essie screams and Alfie rocks her around. She doesn’t seem to mind the rocking until she almost throws up on him and it makes you laugh entirely too much for an accident. Emily takes care of herself, in bed before bedtime and you take care of Emily in the meantime.

When you walk into Essie’s room, you see her on his arms as he rocks her back and forth, the little one sound asleep. You note the way she’s holding onto his bracelets and how he hesitates to put her in the crib. You give him a small nod and close the door behind you. He pecks your lips once more before taking your hand and dragging you away into your room and murmurs under his breath to not wake the little one. “Time for grown-up stuff.”

----

Tagging: @clairecrive @parkbearum @sourirez @vetseras @mollybegger-blog @babylooneytoonz @peakascum

A/n: Heyyy I hope you liked this chapter, do let me know what you thought and if you’d like to be added to the tag list !!

464 notes · View notes

angelmavmurdock · 3 years

Text

Our Little Secret: Part Eight - A.R.

LAST OF THE SERIES

Word count: Summary: 5 years later...

WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF MURDER AND SEXUAL ASSAULT (basically everything Arvin and the preacher did in the movie is touched on).

5 years later

"Well, y/n, your application is outstanding. We'd love for you to work here." The headteacher spoke to me from across his desk.

"Really? Wow! Thank you so much!" I beamed.

"The new school term starts in August and the kids really need a well-taught, professional, young teacher who can help them grow as children. I think you're perfect for the job."

"Thank you so much, that means a lot. I can't wait to start."

Teaching. Teaching year 1. It was my dream to work with kids and now finally after 4 years of college I could do it.

I've been living in Cincinnati since I left high school 5 years ago. I needed to get out of that town as soon as I could. Everywhere I went it would remind me of Lenora...and Arvin.

I kept in touch with Emma, though. We still chatted at least a few times a month on the phone and she told me every time how much she missed Lenora and how much she missed Arvin. Though it was easier with Lenora because she knew what had happened to her - well, not fully - but she knew that she was gone. With Arvin, she didn't know why he was gone, what he was doing or had done and if he was still even alive. I didn't tell her about what Arvin told me on our last night. I promised him I wouldn't.

But every time I called her it was like I was being set back on my journey of grief and getting over him. I was with a lovely guy called William and we've been together since my last year of college. He didn't know about Lenora or Arvin or the Russell's.

But he did come with me to my father's funeral a few months ago.

Daddy had gotten worse and worse since being in New Coal Creek. We thought he was going to get better once we got him into hospital but it didn't make a difference. And when I moved to Cincinnati, I hardly ever saw him and Ma and I's row got in between Daddy and I's relationship.

So I went to his funeral feeling like the worst daughter on the planet. And I felt as if I was losing everyone I had ever truly loved.

Will was lovely and he worked in the same position Daddy used to work at. We had a house together and we lived there comfortably. It's much like how I grew up living. A big house with no one to fill it with. We didn't even have a dog or a cat because of his allergies. We were engaged to be married and he had bought me a very expensive and big diamond ring which was nice but I had no interest in.

Of course, I accepted. But as soon as he asked me the million dollar question, the first person that popped into my head was Arvin. And then Lenora. And then Daddy.

Wedding planning was very stressful when you don't have many friends or family around to help.

And after my meeting with the headteacher I was heading into town to find my wedding dress.

I was dreading it.

Ma was coming down to help and we'd meet at the place.

I thanked the headteacher and walked out excitedly, ready to start my teaching career. I got in my car and I drove into town. The closer I got, the worse I felt. I didn't want to get a wedding dress and I didn't want to get it with Ma either.

I parked outside of the dress shop and reluctantly got out. The shop was extravagant and elegant. I dreaded going inside. But my feet took me in as my brain lusted for home.

"y/n!" Ma exclaimed, shuffling up to me, already carrying dresses in her arms.

"Ma, hi." She nearly winded me as she embraced me.

I lightly put my hands around her but she tore away quickly.

"This place is just wonderful! I've already found a few you'd look great in!"

"Ma, I'd love if I was the one who would get to pick out my own weddin' dress." I raised a brow.

She sighed, "Fine. Yes, of course. Go into the changin' rooms and I'll follow."

I rolled my eyes and walked to one of the rooms where a consultant with a pearly white smile greeted me.

"Miss y/l/n, lovely to meet you. I'm Angela and I'll be helpin' you today! Are these the dresses you'd like to try?" She chirped, referring to the dresses in my mothers arms.

I sighed, "Yes."

"Great! Come on in."

I stood on the podium in front of the wall-length mirror with the fourth wedding dress on. It was a column dress that fell straight down with only a slight cinch at the waist. It had long sleeves and a high neck and lace covered the bodice. It was not my style.

"You look beautiful!" Ma complimented.

"I don't like it, Ma." I shook my head, twisting and turning to look at it.

"It's your fourth dress and you haven't liked any of them."

"They're just...not my style." I sighed.

Ma rolled her eyes and stood next to me, "It's not about your style. It's about looking gorgeous on your wedding day."

I furrowed my brows, "It's my wedding dress and it's my wedding. I want to love my dress."

"Well you are not the one paying for it." She brushed over my hips.

I felt rage bubble inside of me.

"Fine. We'll take this one then." I stated with a scoff and returned to the changing room in a huff.

"Okay, your fitting will be next month and that's when you'll get your dress home, alright?"

"Thank you." I smiled weakly at the consultant.

"You're welcome. Have a nice day!"

We waved goodbye and began walking out the shop. I placed my white gloves on and adjusted the white hat ornamented with a flower on my curled hair. I smoothed out my white and pale blue polka-dotted dress and adjusted the sky blue belt around my waist. Ma opened the door for me and I thanked her before leaving and hearing the click of my heels on the ground.

"y/n, I won't keep you long, but...you're a woman now. You're 23, you're getting married, you live away from home, you're getting a job. You're a woman. But just because you are older, does not mean I stop being your mother. I will always be your mother whether you like it or not and you have to treat me as such." Ma said, folding her arms over her red, floral tea dress.

I took a deep breath and looked at her.

"You took away my freedom when I was a teenager and because of that, I lost time with - not only Lenora - but Arvin, too. I don't know where he is now. No one does."

Just as I was about to talk about our last night I remembered she still didn't know I snuck out.

"I lost my best friend and the love of my life in the space of weeks and you kept me locked away until there was no one left. I'll never forgive you for that." I said, my head held high.

Ma took a few seconds to process the information and then nodded.

"I'm sorry you feel that way. I had no idea. I love you, y/n. I will always love you, alright?" She held my shoulders.

I swallowed and nodded, not looking at her.

"Congratulations on your new job, honey. I'll see you soon." She leaned in and gave me a kiss on the cheek then turned and walked away.

I took a few deep breaths as I watched her, guilt and anger washing away gradually. Part of me didn't want to go home. I wanted to escape for a while. I didn't want to have to go back and sit alone in a huge house I didn't like and I didn't want to wait up for a phone call from Will. I wanted to be by myself. I needed to. I looked around and at my car before deciding I'd go into town for a while.

I left the car and stuffed the keys further into my handbag. I clicked down the pavement until I reached the main road of shops, leading to a lake and a park where families would walk and eat ice-cream.

It was summer, so the sun was out in full, the trees swaying in the warm breeze and the sound of a few buskers playing accompanied by the noise of town people roaming around filled the warm air.

I smiled and said good mornin' to people as I walked by, waving at a few kids and cooing at some babies. I'd never really spent much time in town. I was always working or at the house with Will. It felt good to be out and alone. I wandered around, looking in some shop windows and wishing for the dresses but deciding against it.

It wasn't until I passed a shop and briefly glanced in it that I actually stopped to look closely. I took a double take and stood in front of the window, looking up at the displayed mannequin. It was a white blouse paired with a white tennis skirt and blue ribbon tied around the neck. A fond grin grew on my face. It reminded me of high school. Though I never wore mine on my neck, I still wanted it. I never wore ribbons in my hair anymore.

I couldn't help myself but go in. I entered the seemingly quiet shop and found the nearest shop consultant.

"Hi! I love that ribbon you have on show, is it for sale?" I asked with a smile.

The woman looked almost confused, "It's a ribbon...it's for decoration?"

"Oh...well, I'd still love to buy it. Name a price." I smiled again.

She looked at me dumbfounded for a moment but then shook it off and walked to the mannequin. She untied the silk and walked back over with it, placing it into my hands.

"It's free." She smiled.

"Thank you so much. I love it." I grinned.

"Have a nice day, now."

"I will." I beamed, walking out the store.

I felt giddy with nostalgia and excitement as I pulled my hair back under my hat and tied it with the ribbon, giving it a delicate bow. I checked it in my compact mirror and smiled with joy. I felt closer to myself.

I continued walking down the road and then to the lake. I stood and leaned against the railing, watching the elegant swans float by, their white feathers contrasting beautifully against the dark blue of the water. I watched them for a while, probably for about 10 minutes before I felt a light tug on my dress.

I got a fright and looked down where a young girl was standing next to me. I immediately smiled with relief and stood back.

"Hello," I waved.

"You're very beautiful, ma'am." She complimented in a strong southern accent.

"Why thank you, Mrs." I grinned.

"Would you like some bread to feed the swans?" She offered, holding up a chunk of bread.

"I would love some. Thank you." I graciously accepted the bread, holding it in my gloved hands.

The girls' mother called her back. She looked up at me and waved.

"Bye!" She said, before running off to her mum.

I smiled and laughed a little before turning back to the swans. I broke a piece of bread off and threw it in the water. I threw some more pieces in and watched as they all swam to the food, fighting over who got what.

Once I was out of bread, I sighed, leaning against the railing by my forearms. I took in my surroundings. I looked to my left where children were playing with each other as parents stood or sat on benches, resting. A few elderly couples walked by, hand in hand, arm in arm, chatting about everything and nothing.

A girl on a pink bike caught my eye. She was gorgeous and sat atop the seat with joy and pride as she rode by. My eyes followed her as she rode behind me and kept going.

But my eyes shifted focus when she rode by someone.

Someone who looked eerily familiar.

He had brown, woven, checkered trousers on and a white dress shirt with sleeves that were rolled up to his elbows. Brown suspenders hung over his shoulders and a white vest peeked out from the unbuttoned shirt.

But the dark eyes with the brown, slicked back hair and the cigarette in his mouth gave him away.

He was already looking at me, however. Like he had been for hours. I turned slightly, feeling my heart beat rise as he threw his cigarette on the ground.

It can't be him. It's just a lookalike. It's because I've been thinking about him today. It's not him. He's not here.

He walked closer to me but stopped about 2 metres away, hands in pockets with his chest rising and falling as rapidly as mine.

I could feel my chest heave against my dress as I stared at him, trying to decipher if that was truly him or if I was just dreaming.

"y/n?" He finally said, unsure of whether I was who he thought I was.

"A-Arvin?" I whispered.

A smile began to grow on his face and I knew it was him. It was him. Arvin.

I dropped my handbag and ran towards him, throwing my arms around his neck a our bodies collided, nearly setting us back.

His arms wrapped around my waist and lifted me up, making my legs pop up. He still smelled the same and he still felt the same. He felt like home.

"I can't believe you're here." I whispered, feeling a tear fall down my face.

He placed me back on my feet and I looked at him, cupping his face with my hands. He held them, stroking my thumbs with a smile.

"Why are you here?" He asked softly.

"I-I live here. I have since...since high school." I gulped.

He raised his brows, "I've been here for four years, y/n."

My mouth dropped open, "What?!"

He grinned, his hands squeezing mine, "We've both been livin' here for four years but not ran into each other."

I stuttered, "Wh-what? How is that- oh my gosh." I laughed, bringing my hands away from his face.

"I can't believe you're here, Arvin." I gulped, my chin quivering slightly.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again." I bit my lip, trying to stop myself from crying in public.

"Hey, shh." He brought me into him, cradling my head against his chest.

"We're here. I'm here." He said softly.

We decided to walk around the park to catch up which seemed both amazing but alien at the same time. We were still us but we had changed so much.

"Still wearin' ribbons I see." He grinned.

I laughed, "Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not. I always loved them." He smiled.

I blushed and looked to the ground.

"So, why Cincinnati?" Arvin asked.

I sighed, "I couldn't live there anymore after school." I gulped.

"It was just too hard. And I got accepted into college here so I decided to move."

"You'll be finished school now, right?" Arvin queried.

"Yeah. I just finished and I actually just got a job today, so." I smiled.

"That's amazin'. I'm happy for you." He grinned.

"Thank you..."

We walked in silence for a little longer than I would have hoped. But he broke it again.

"Why're you in town today, then? Considering I spend every day here and I've never seen you leads me to believe you don't come here often." He chuckled.

I nodded, "Yeah, I never get the chance too. But I was uh...I was actually in town for a dress fitting." I coughed, looking down at the floor.

"Goin' somewhere nice?" He asked.

I scoffed a laugh and looked up at him, "My wedding."

He stared at me in surprise, eyes wide and mouth open, soaking in the information.

"Y-you're engaged?" He croaked.

I nodded, removing my left glove to show the sturdy ring that sat on my finger.

"W-wow. I mean...he must be rich if you got a ring like that." He swallowed, looking down at his shoes.

"I mean...yeah, I guess." I shrugged awkwardly, putting the glove back on.

"How long have you been-"

"Uh, since last year. We met in college. He was doin' finance and Daddy actually put in a good word for him and he got his old job."

"He got your daddy's old job?" Arvin repeated.

"Yeah...yeah once uh...once he passed, they needed someone to fill his shoes so." I gulped.

Arvin stopped, "Your Dad passed? When?"

I chewed the inside of my lip, "Earlier this year."

"y/n, I am so, so sorry." He placed a hand on my arm.

"No, don't be silly. It's fine. He just never got well after he took a turn in Coal Creek." I said, beginning to walk again.

"I remember how sick he was..."

My chest fluttered. It was as if our past was an alternate universe. Like we never really lived it. It was just a different version of ourselves that did. Because now, we were here and it didn't feel the same. Not completely.

"So...should I ask how you ended up here?" I asked cautiously.

He tilted his head from side to side as if trying to figure an answer out himself.

"I don't think you'd like the details." He stated, reaching into his pocket for another cigarette.

"Did you..." I stopped, looking around us before lowering my voice.

"Did you do what you implied you would?" I asked, looking into his seemingly innocent eyes.

He inhaled some smoke and then exhaled, turning away for my sake.

"I did what I implied." He stated simply.

My stomach turned. I kept chewing my lip with nervousness, looking into his eyes. He didn't seem like a killer. He wasn't a bad person. I knew him. I knew who he was. And a murderer was not in his description.

I wanted to know about it. About him. I needed to know. So, impulsively - a word I hadn't used since our last night in Coal Creek - I invited him back with me.

"Would you come home with me? I live 15 minutes out of town and I'd really like to talk but I don't think a public park is appropriate." I said in a hushed tone.

He thought about it before nodding, "Sure."

The drive to my house was a little awkward. The radio played at a low hum while we sat in near silence, only the sound of the wind and other cars passing by filling the air.

"Used to be me drivin' you everywhere." Arvin commented with a chuckle.

I smiled, "Oh, how the tables have turned."

He laughed and so did I, then we resumed our mutual silence.

When we got to Will and I's estate, I drove through the gates of the house to the driveway where at the top, a large house sat - much like the one in Coal Creek.

"Our drivin' might've changed but this certainly hasn't." Arvin sighed, almost as if he was disappointed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked with a raised brow.

He shrugged, "Feels all too familiar, that's all." He said before getting out the car.

I screwed my face up at his comment but decided to let it slide. I got out of the car and locked it before following Arvin who seemed as if he knew the place, up the steps of the porch.

"Is your fiancé home?" He asked the ground, hands in pockets.

I shook my head, "He's out of town for a weekend with work."

I stuck the key into the lock of the wide, white front door and opened it. I walked inside then held it open for Arvin.

He walked in and looked around, taking in his new surroundings.

The hallway was wide and white, only paintings filling the wall space and a large staircase to the left winded up to the next floor.

"Wow...I mean, you've done well for yourself." Arvin scoffed a laugh.

"Thank you." I smiled weakly, taking my hat from my head.

He looked up at the high ceilings, appreciating the chandelier that hung above the doorway.

"Come on through. Do you want tea? Coffee?" I offered, walking down the hallway and into the open kitchen/living room area while taking my gloves off.

He walked in behind me, looking around the new room he was in before following me into the kitchen.

"How about a scotch?" He asked with a smirk.

I smiled, "That'd be appropriate, I think."

I got the crystal decanter and two glasses from the tray that sat atop the kitchen table. I poured us two glasses and then handed Arvin one. I brought the decanter with us as we migrated to the couch.

I slipped my heels off before sitting down, my dress puffing and fanning out over my lap. Arvin sat opposite me, his ankle resting on his knee comfortably.

"So..." I started.

"So." He repeated.

"I think I might have more questions about you than you do about me." I smiled weakly.

He nodded, "Probably right."

I took a deep breath before asking any questions.

"Who got Lenora pregnant?" I asked.

I thought that would be a good starting point. It was what started everything.

"Reverend Teagardin. The new preacher that came to town." Arvin answered.

My eyes widened, "What?!"

"He took Lenora - and other girls - into the woods," Arvin began to explain.

He stared at the crystal in his hands and the liquid floating inside of it. He didn't once look up at me.

"He'd make them pray before they got started and he'd take advantage of them."

"Didn't he have-"

"A wife? Yeah. But he was abusin' her at home, too." He gulped.

"Oh my god. That's horrible." I sighed, my stomach feeling uneasy.

He finally looked up at me and I could feel his curiosity burn into me.

"Do you...do you still talk to Grandma?" He asked, his voice slightly shaky.

I smiled and nodded, "Yeah. I talked to her last week."

A slight smile grew on his face with relief, "How is she?"

"She's okay. She always talks about you and Lenora. Mostly you now, though. I mean, I never told her a thing about our last night and she still doesn't know about Lenora's pregnancy. She knows just as much as when you left."

He licked his teeth and nodded, "Thanks for keepin' in touch."

"Of course. I said I would, didn't I?" I grinned.

He nodded with a smile.

"So how about you? Livin' here in this big house with a big-shot fiance. Must be nice." He quirked his brow, taking a sip of his drink.

He was trying to pry something out of me, I could feel it.

"It's good. He takes care of me and we're happy." I stated.

"It's not boring?"

"No." I lied.

He tilted his head, "I can tell when you're lyin', y/n."

I scoffed, "You haven't seen me in five years and you think you can just come back here and tell me you know me so well? Don't start with that bullshit, Arvin."

He furrowed his brows, "Are you mad at me? What did I do?"

I rolled my eyes, "You don't know me, Arvin. So don't act like you do."

I sat my glass down and swiftly stood up from the couch. He did the same.

"I might not have seen you in years but I think I know you better than anyone on this planet. Am I right?" He asked, watching as I paced up and down in front of him.

I scoffed and shook my head.

"You're tellin' me that this guy- this guy - knows you better than I do?" Arvin lifted a picture of Will and I up to demonstrate.

"Yes. He does."

"Bullshit." He spat.

"You don't get to say shit like that Arvin. You know why?" I challenged, standing close to him with my hands on my hips.

"Why?" He retorted.

"Because you left! You left to murder someone! You'd have rather been a killer livin' with guilt for the rest of your life than to be with me." I shouted.

I didn't notice how close we were until he laughed and I could feel his familiar breath on my face.

"I had to do it. That preacher was no good. And neither was that cops sister and her dirt-bag husband." He snapped.

I blinked at him in confusion.

"Wh-what do you mean the cops sister and her husband?" I asked in a soft tone.

He looked away from me and gulped.

I gasped and held my hands over my mouth, "Did- did you-"

He grabbed and held my hands, "They were gonna kill me, y/n. They would take hitchhikers and murder them to take pictures with their dead bodies. I wasn't about to be the next one."

I widened my eyes, "They did what?!"

"And then I got caught out by the cop...his sister was the wife. He followed me to Knockemstiff and tried to shoot me with a shot gun. I had to, y/n. He was gonna kill me I-"

I could see the tears and the panic in his eyes. I just reached my hands up and wrapped them around his shoulders, bringing him into my arms. His face went into my neck and I could feel tears drip onto my skin. I threaded my fingers through his hair.

"I'm a bad person, y/n. I killed four people..." He sniffed.

"Arvin, look at me." I tugged him from my neck and cupped his cheeks.

"You are not a bad person. You were just caught up in some twisted shit and you had no other way. You are a good person, Arvin." I said sincerely, feeling tears spring into my own eyes.

"I lost you because of it, though I just- I can't-" He cried.

"I know." I sniffled, feeling a tear drip down my face.

I looked at him; teary, eyes swollen and red, complexion pale. I didn't know what else to do.

"You're a good person, Arvin." I said again, leaning up on my tip-toes to kiss his cheek.

He hummed at my touch and I kissed his other cheek, "You did nothin' wrong."

I went back to his right cheek and kissed it again like I needed to feel his skin on my lips once more.

Just as I went to kiss his other cheek, he leaned forward and caught my lips with his instead.

I gasped, pulling away from his body and looking at him, touching my fingers over my lips.

"I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. You're an engaged woman and I-"

I launched forward, wrapping my arms around his neck and crashing my lips to his. It took a second to make sure it was real. But as his hands slid effortlessly onto my waist, I knew.

"You're the love of my life, Arvin. You always have been and always will be." I whispered, pulling away briefly.

He stared into my eyes but didn't say a word. But I knew what he was thinking. He kissed me again, our lips moved over each other's with fervour and passion, the excitement and thrill of tasting each other again for the first time in years. In too long. He felt and tasted the same but more mature and wiser.

He pushed me back by my waist until my back hit the wall. I let out a moan of surprise and pleasure. He smirked against my lips before devouring me again. His tongue slipped easily into my mouth and I hummed, fully tasting him. My fingers ran through and tugged at his hair, and his hands ran up and down my sides and my back.

His touch felt nostalgic but euphoric and in the heat of the moment, everything was perfect.

"Your lips taste amazing," He said breathlessly between sloppy kisses.

"So do yours." I replied.

He wrapped his hands around my back and skilfully unzipped my dress. It fell to the floor in a pool around my ankles. I brought my hands to his shoulders as our kiss got heavier, teasing his suspenders before sliding them off his arms. I began unbuttoning his shirt in a hurried fashion as his lips started trailing down my jaw to my neck. I was finally able to push the fabric from his shoulders and then pulling his vest over his head.

And as his hands came down to my thighs to lift me up and around his torso, and as he carried me up and into my bedroom; I knew that he was it. He was the person I was destined to be with. He was the love of my life.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

5 years later

(Play ‘That Old Feeling’ by Doris Day now)

I placed the needle carefully onto the record and turned it up.

I walked through the house and got to the porch where I looked out and saw Arvin and Jack playing catch. I stood with a grin as my husband and 4 year old played enthusiastically - the old baseball still intact and very much in use.

I crouched down and placed the 2 year old who rested on my hip, onto the ground. She wobbled slightly but quickly got up and running. She made her way to the stairs which I quickly intervened and grabbed her hand to help her down onto the soil.

"Go get Daddy, Charlotte. Go!" I laughed, pointing to Arvin.

She squealed happily and ran towards her Dad, arms flailing clumsily as she sprinted. Arvin stopped the game of catch briefly as he saw his daughter coming towards him.

"Hey princess!" He grinned, crouching to his knees and grabbing his daughter.

He lifted her up and sat her on his knee, handing her the ball.

"Throw the ball to Jack, Charlotte!" Arvin prompted, pointing to the blonde haired boy who stood confidently.

She babbled a few words and then threw the ball onto the ground. At least she attempted. I whooped and clapped as I walked over.

"Good job, baby!" I praised in a baby voice.

Arvin stood up, letting Charlotte run around with her brother for a while, the dog joining them, enthusiastically bounding around them.

"Hey, handsome." I grinned as I reached Arvin.

"Hey, beautiful." He smiled.

He wrapped an arm around my waist and kissed me, tongue briefly slipping into my mouth. I hummed in surprise and pulled away.

"Careful, Arvin or you'll be makin' another one of those tonight." I giggled.

We stood side by side, an arm wrapped around each other's back as we watched Jack attempt to play catch with his sister.

"Why don't we make another one, then?" Arvin suggested.

I looked at him with raised brows, "If you want to push one out of your ass, then by all means let's do it."

He chuckled, "I'm serious, y/n."

I turned to face him and he wrapped his arms around my waist while I played with the bottom of his hair.

"Another baby girl or boy? With a dog?" I laughed.

"Yeah...I mean it's crazy but it's our crazy." He smirked.

"Hmm, depends how nice you treat me tonight." I bit my lip.

He held back a shit-eating grin, "Oh...you're so gettin' knocked up tonight."

I gasped, smacking his chest with a laugh.

"I love you." He smiled.

"I love you, too."

"Forever?" He quipped.

"And ever." I smiled.

And we meant it.

A/N: oh my god. that's the mini-series done! i loved writing for Arvin it was fun with the southern dialogue and the 60s time period! i hope you all enjoyed reading as much as i enjoyed writing. If you'd like to request any one shots, head over to my instagram @tomholland1510 to request!

ALSO!! bonus points to anyone who understands the easter eggs in the kids' names! do they seem familiar? ;)

{Tags: @notandordinaryprincess96 @imagine-yourself-happy}

#arvin russel #arvin russel x y/n #arvin russel fluff #arvin russel smut #arvin russel angst #arvin russel x reader #arvin russel mini series #mini series #tom holland #tom holland series #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland angst #tom holland fic #arvin russel fic #one shot #imagine #tom holland imagine #arvin russel imagine

142 notes · View notes