#i stared at her pic th other day so much i was like going insane. i need the ova or i will die

[sheila--e]

if I start rebloggi g Sheila E. fanart from my hidroxifenil tag dnit say anything to me.. I'm holding back from exploding like a atomic bomb

[my-proof-is-you]

Con - Part 3

Summary: You’d been on the run most of your life--running from your memories, a past you didn’t want to remember, and your own loneliness. You did what you had to do to get by. 

You know what they say, though: you can’t con a con man.

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Warnings: flirting, canon-typical violence, swearing, fluff, eventual smut

A/N: I’m bringing it out of hiatus! I hope you all enjoy :)

*I do not own any pics or gifs

Masterlist | Tag Yourself!

You couldn’t believe you’d had phone sex with a complete stranger. 

There was just something about him, though. 

Dean. 

His name gave you goosebumps as you remembered his gravelly voice from the night before. 

You wished for the tenth time that you’d actually been able to spend a night with him in person. Instead, you picked up your phone, eager to keep some kind of connection with the mystery man. 

Y: Thank you for last night. 

D: Anytime, sweetheart. 

Y: So, where do you and your handsome partner find yourselves on this lovely day?

D: In Tucson on another hunt. 

Y: What, you get paid the big bucks for some deer meat there or something? 

D: Actually it’s...never mind. 

Y: What?!

D: Seriously, you’d think I’m crazy

Y: Psh, what’s an embarrassing admission between strangers?

D: Fine. My brother and I hunt...monsters. 

You stared at your screen. The musky motel around you faded as your eyes zeroed in on his words. 

Monsters. 

You didn’t respond, still too shocked to form a coherent thought. 

D: See? I knew you’d think I’m crazy. 

You snapped back into focus, reading his message when your phone vibration brought your attention back. 

Y: You’re just fucking with me, right?

D: If only, sweetheart. 

You sat for a moment again, memories of your nightmare from the night before flooding your mind. 

D: I’ll understand if you don’t want to talk to me anymore. But trust me, monsters are real. And they’re out there. 

You couldn’t believe you were about to confide your biggest secret to a stranger. The secret that you thought made you an insane person. The secret you’d never told anyone for fear of being institutionalized. 

Y: No, I don’t think you’re crazy or anything I just…

D: ...yes?

You took a deep breath before sending your next message. You were afraid that if you saw your words staring back at you, you’d actually lose it. You’d know you were insane. 

Y: I think a monster is what killed my family. 

Your phone rang shrilly in your hand and you weren’t sure if you wanted to pick it up. Maybe Dean was just a psycho. Maybe he would just feed into your stress-induced vision of a monster killing your parents and sister. A vision you’d long since come to accept as your own mind playing tricks on you.

You picked up the phone, though. What did you have to lose at this point?

You didn’t utter a greeting, just held your breath until his low voice met your ears. 

“What happened to your family, Y/N?”

“Th-They...they…”

“What?” he asked, almost whispering.

“There was so much blood,” you said, your hands shaking. “I didn’t know what was happening--all I could see was red…”

“Y/N, where are you?” he asked.

“I’m in Albuquerque,” you whispered, your mind still reeling.

“Okay. Just...just stay put, okay? Sam and I can be there in six hours. We can talk about this in person.”

You nodded, even though you knew he couldn’t see you. “Thank you,” you breathed.

“See you soon, sweetheart,” he said, hanging up. 

That afternoon, you sat gripping a rapidly-cooling cup of coffee in a greasy-smelling diner. Your mind had been blank since you hung up with Dean the first time. The only coherent thought you’d had was to tell him where to meet you when he and his brother got closer to Albuquerque. 

Reliving the worst night of your life had sucked the energy out of you. The stale cup of caffeine in front of you did little to your energy levels. You stared into the light brown liquid, not really seeing anything.

Dean’s voice made you jump, and you realized he and his brother had slid into the booth across from you without you even noticing. 

“Hey there, Y/E/C eyes,” he said. God, you loved his voice.

“FBI,” you returned with a half-smile. “And this must be your partner-in-crime, Agent Mulder,” you said, gesturing to his brother. 

Dean looked offended. “That would make me Scully. I’m not a chick! Besides, he’s the one with long hair!”

His brother rolled his eyes, extending his hand. You took it, noticing how truly large it was. “Sam,” he said with a smile. 

“Y/N. I don’t know if he told you, but I robbed Scully here the first night we met. Sorry,” you said with a shrug. 

He smiled. “Not like we came by it honestly anyway.”

You liked Sam already. He was easy to talk to, and he seemed really genuine. 

The touch of calloused fingers against your hand brought your attention back to Dean. He looked at you earnestly, clearly ready to get down to business.

You sighed. “Dean...I don’t even know where to start,” you said. 

“Just tell us what you remember,” he said, stroking his thumb along your knuckle. His green eyes made you melt a little and you nodded.

“I was fifteen,” you began. Your mind’s eye traveled back to that night. You could remember the house you grew up in with vivid detail; every room, every corner, every piece of furniture was burned into your brain. 

The memories were tainted, though. Perfect white doilies your mom had made flecked with blood; your sister’s lifeless eyes, staring at you from the hardwood floor of the room you shared; your dad’s favorite chair where he then sat ripped to shreds.

“I didn’t even know what was happening. It was like I was in some sort of shock. I heard my parents scream from the living room. My older sister told me to hide. We had an extra little space in the back of our closet that was small enough to crawl into. She made me go in and close the door. I kept it cracked, though. She hid in the main part of the closet and it found her.”

The men watched you recount your story, neither saying anything. They listened intently, though, and it gave you the strength to go on knowing that they didn’t think you were insane. 

“I saw it grab her through the crack. I’ll never forget her scream. The thought of it still sends shivers down my spine.” You felt the goosebumps raise on your arms like they always did when you thought about that horrible scream. 

“I watched from that spot, unable to move. I was so scared. Everything in me told me to go and help her, but I couldn’t. I could barely breathe, I was so scared. After about an hour, when I knew it was gone, I finally crawled out of there.”

“They were all dead. They had been ripped apart...their hearts were gone...and I was alone.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Sam said, reaching across the table to lay a comforting hand on your arm. You hadn’t realized that tears were streaming down your face until that moment. You had never told anyone what happened to your family—never even said the words out loud. 

“Y/N, you said you saw it a little through the crack in the door...do you remember anything about what it physically looked like?” Dean asked. 

You wiped your face with the backs of your hands and let your memory conjure up one of the scariest things you’d ever seen. 

“It was a man, but with really scary features. His eyes were yellow, like an animal. He had fangs and long claws.”

Sam and Dean looked at each other silently and nodded. Your eyes danced between them, unsure of what they were thinking.

“What? Do you know what it was?” you asked, genuinely excited for the first time in a long time.

“Yes,” Sam said, his eyes serious. 

“Well?” you asked, becoming impatient. 

“It was a werewolf,” Dean stated. 

You let that sink in for a moment, your mind replaying the word, “werewolf” over and over. 

Then, you burst into an all-consuming laughter.

Forevers:

@malfoysqueen14​ @divadinag​ @lynne1993​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​ @infj-slytherclaw​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @sammykb1994​ @lilulo-12​ @mellorine-paprika​ @tranquility-or-chaos​ @collette04​ @differentstudentrunaway-e70bf763 @hoboal87​ @bi-danvers0​ @miraclesoflove​ @defenderrosetyler​ @babypink224221​ @fabfan00 @calaofnoldor​ @beatifuldisaster018​ @olyamoriarty @satans-0-spawn​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @supernatural3002​ @lainxcas​ @mylovelydame21​ @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester​

Deanies/Jensen:

@tftumblin​ @deans-baby-momma​ @akshi8278​ @weepingwillowphoenix​ @playingdeep17​ @justanotherwinchester​ @flamencodiva​ @caligraphee​ @emma.penberthy.11 @jxackles​ @kalesrebellion @heavensangel45135​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @miufel​ @squirrelnotsam​

[stellar-alley]

•The One With The Maniac•

So this oneshot is gonna be just a little bit different from my others. It's going to be based on a song! I'm hoping to do a couple of different songs oneshots. This one-shot is gonna be based on Conan Gray's Maniac. I hope you guys enjoy!

Also, just a little disclaimer if the Losers are kinda out of character...

Summary: Based off of Conan Gray's Maniac. Richie wants Eddie back so he shows up at his home all alone, with a shovel and a rose.

~

Maniac

You were with your friends, partying When the alcohol kicked in Said you wanted me dead

Friday's sun was setting over the small town of Derry. Two teens finished off a six-pack of beer as they sat side by side in the back parking lot of their local mall.

"Rich, Truth or Dare?" The redhead asked the trashmouth as he passed her his cigarette before responding, "Dare" he smirked.

The girl took her time, pondering about the dare. She blew smoke into the cool April air before she spoke, "If you could kill one person at school, who'd it be?".

"Bev! I said a dare, you've gotta get your ears checked darling-"

"Answer the question and you'll get your damn dare" She responded, a glare in her eyes. He tended to do this when he didn't get what he wanted.

"Fine... If you've gotta know, it's that asshat from the cafeteria. Eddie fucking Kaspbrak" He responded with a rolling of his eyes.

"Isn't that the guy who ruined your shirt?" She asks, although her voice is soft, not much emotion since she's paying more attention towards the cigarette between her fingers then the conversation she was having. "The guy you dated?" She wondered allowed,  without realizing the line she had just crossed.

"Yeah, the total creep. And the nerve of that kid! Coming up to me in the cafeteria, ruining my favourite shirt. I wish I could've given him the beating he was asking for" Richie mumbled as he pulled another cigarette out from his pocket and lit it. He was tired of always having to wait for Beverly to pass hers back.

It wasn't as big of a deal as Richie made it out to be. Eddie was walking through the cafeteria with his friends, The Losers. The trashmouth was in the mood to have a little fun. So just for shits and giggles he stuck his foot out from beneath the lunch table and waited for trouble. Eddie hadn't noticed the hazard when he walked by, but that didn't mean he didn't trip and spill his mystery soup (not event the lunch ladies know what's in that shit) all over Richie and his favourite shirt.

Well, that's what he claims, the shirt was the one he won during his first track meet, the meet that changed his entire high school career, he did come in third after all. It's what got him from the losers table to the table everyone wished they sat at with the popular kids. (cliche ikr?). But his real favourite shirt wasn't technically a shirt at all, it was a button-down shirt, some may even call it a Hawaiian shirt. It was white with dark blue palm trees, but he never told his friends that, well at least his new friends... They didn't really know much about him, aside from the whole 'track star' thing and Richie wanted to keep it that way.

"Then do it... Anyone who ruins Richie Tozier's favourite shirt deserves it" Her response was laced with mockery, practically holding back the laughter.

Richie suddenly sat up a little straight, puffing his chest out in an attempt to seem more manly. "What? You think I won't?" He scuffed as Bev rolled her eyes.

"I know you Rich. Your bark is worse than your bite. You say you'll do it, and never will" She glanced away right when Richie jumped off the ledge, landing on the pavement before subtly stumbling over his feet. He quickly caught himself and tried to play it off. The two had been sitting on a ledge in the back parking lot of their local mall.

"Yeah. Well, guess what, today's the day you're wrong. Get ready to eat your own words, Marsh!" Richie practically shouted.

He'd already turned to walk away when Beverly shouted to him "Take pics for me". There wasn't much emotion in her voice though as she knew that Richie wasn't going to do it. The two had been friends for years and she would bet that Richie would make up this elaborate plan but end up spending the night alone in his room, then wake up with an ache in his wrist. So she simply watched his back as he slowly disappeared into the night.

So, you showed up at my home, all alone with a shovel and a rose

The front door opened almost immediately after Richie knocked on it.

"Hell-oh..." The voice stopped mid-sentence. Their eyes grew wide with shock "What the hell are you doing here?", the boy at the door hissed. Before either of them could get another word out, the boy at the door glanced over his shoulder and slipped outside, gently closing the door behind him.

Standing before Richie was his ex-boyfriend. The two had been best friends for the majority of their lives and decided to start dating in their sophomore year of high school. It went extremely well since the boys were head over heels for each other, powered by the countless years where they never admitted their love for each other.  Let's just say they had an epic love story, but the ending came too soon.

Richie was tall. Well taller than the boy who stood before him, he had a couple of inches on him for sure. Richie's hair was a mess of dark curls that flopped onto his rugged face. Unlike the other boy who's hair was layers of neatly combed brown waves that perfectly framed his soft face, where his confused eyes stared daggers at Richie.

"Eddie I'm so-" Richie started.

"No, stop-"

"Please just let me explain".

"Start with why you have a fucking shovel" Eddie jetted his hand out to motion towards the shovel that Richie had held over his shoulder.

"Oh yeah, shit" He cursed before carelessly dropping it, letting it clatter on the front porch. Now with the shovel gone, the only other thing in his grasp was the rose. "Eddie, please... I messed up and I'm sorry..." His voice drifted off as Eddie crossed his arms over his chest.

'Cause people like you always want back what they can't have But I'm past that and you know that So you should turn back to your rat pack, tell 'em trash

"Yeah, Rich. You and the rest of the fucking world! You're the guy who wants everything that you can't have. You know that I don't swoon over you like everyone else at that damned school and it drives you completely insane" Some could say Eddie wore a smirk on his face, but it was really his way of bitting back the tears that were begging to escape.

Tell all of your friends that I'm crazy and drive you mad

"Fine. Okay, whatever. You're so fucking stubborn. Eddie, I'm apologizing! I never do this and what, you can't even accept it! I'm trying to fix something here" Richie stopped to let out a breath of air, a heavy sigh. "This is exactly why we never worked, cause you drive me insane. I can't believe I let things get this out of hand, I should've dumped you when you started stalking me-"

That I'm such a stalker, a watcher, a psychopath

Then tell them you hate me and dated me just for laughs

So, why do you call me and tell me you want me back?

"Richie, you are the one who told your friends that it was a joke, that we weren't dating, then you went and cheated on Sally fucking Jenson..." Eddie's voice cracked as the memories of the past years flashed through his head.

The taller boy angrily ran his hand through his tangled curls. "I had to! I had to put on a show for the rest of the world so they'd get off my fucking back. What was I supposed to do? My boyfriend wouldn't even go public with me because of his overprotective mother" Richie knew the moment he said the words that he had just dug his own grave. "Shit, Eddie-" But he got cut off by the boy with watery eyes.

"What Richie, what do you want me to say? You knew that if I came out as being gay that my mother would fucking disown me. But you couldn't handle that..." his voice drifted off when a tear rolled down his cheek. He inhaled a shaky breath before continuing, "Y-You needed someone to show off to the whole school. Cause that's who you are, Rich. You're the Prince, but I'm not your fucking princess, not anymore...".

Richie didn't get another chance to say anything as Eddie's words were followed by the loud sound of the door slamming in his face.

You maniac You maniac

He knew to get behind the wheel was a mistake, especially after a couple of beers. But he had no other choice, he needed to get home somehow. On the drive home, he couldn't get Eddie off of his mind. He was furious, well... he wanted to be. He wanted to be so mad that he'd go and out Eddie to his mom, just to see his expression. But no matter how mad he wanted to be, he just wasn't. Because he knew Eddie was right. He knew that he called Eddie a crazy stalker to his friends because of the one time Eddie followed him to the mall where he went on a date with Sally Jenson. That led to some bullying by his friends and he felt really bad, but what was he supposed to do? Stand up for his now ex-boyfriend and risk losing his rank? But those asshats never really got him, or his stupid jokes... Only the Losers ever did. Only Eddie really loved him, not the jocks he hung out with now.

Sadly to realize this, Richie's mind needed to focus more on his inner dialogue instead of the road he had just driven off of. The sudden force caused his head to slap against the steering wheel, sending a wave of pain through his head.  This mind was spinning.

Am I dead? SHIT wow... Heaven looks a lot like my shitty car- OH NO, IT'S HELL! Wait-

His thoughts were cut short by the soft music still playing from his car radio. Slowly the sweet sound of Sufjan Stevens' Mystery Of Love pulled him back to reality. He realized that he'd driven off of the road and landed in a grassy ditch.

Okay, Richie, you've got this... Just look around and see what happened

After calming himself down, that's exactly what he did. Looking around at the wreckage, it was clear he'd dented his hood and the bumper of his car, but everything else seemed to be intact.  That thought changed when he felt something under his nose. Quickly wiping under his nose with the hem of his sleeve, he realized his nose was bleeding.

"Fuck..." He mumbled, resting his head on the steering wheel.

You just went too far Wrecked your car, called me crying in the dark Now you're breakin' my heart

The phone rang one and a half times before it was answered. Richie was greeted by a voice that sounded normal as if he hadn't been screaming at his ex-boyfriend only a little over an hour ago.

"Hello?"

Richie wished he could've sounded as good as Eddie had.

He tried to steady his breathing, to sound strong, but he was only able to produce shaky words with a weak voice, "Eds... baby, light of my life, I fucked up"

The words sent shivers down Eddie's spine. He hadn't heard that phrase in a very long time. To others, the words 'Light of my life', are just other words of endearment. But to Eddie and Richie, it was a code, taken directly from The Shinning. It meant that the other needed help, that they were in an uncomfortable situation and needed to get out. For example if Eddie was about to have a panic attack in class and needed to let Richie know he'd signal him over "Light of my life, I need to go use the bathroom" and then he'd help Eddie. Or if Richie got invited to someone's house and he really didn't want to go, he'd use the code phrase and Eddie would come up with some fake thing they had previously planned to get him out of that situation.

Eddie jumped from his bed and retrieved his coat from the closet, simply asking "Where are you?", before leaving the house.

~

When Eddie left Richie on his front step, he rushed to his room, hoping to avoid his mother so she wouldn't see the tears streaming down his cheeks.

Fuck, FUCK! I was just getting over him... But of course, he's gotta come back right when I'm getting better.

There was a while where Eddie just laid on his bed on top of the covers. He was curled up into a ball, holding one of his stuffed animals close to his chest as he filled its fur with the tears that fell from his eyes.

By the time Eddie's phone lit up with a call from Richie, the other boy had already cleaned himself up and was reading in bed. As he attempted to escape his current situation.

So, I show up at your place right away

Wipe the tears off of your face

While you beg me to stay

Eddie pulled over onto the side of the road near the area where Richie's car sat in the ditch. The car visibly looked okay from behind, well aside from the smoke coming from the front of the car. Eddie slowly approached the vehicle, examine the damage as he got closer. The hammering of his heart in his chest only worsened the closer he got to the car.

His heart sunk when he realized that the driver's side door was already open. What he saw next caused everything to stop, his breathing, maybe even his heart. Richie wasn't there. Eddie quickly stuck his head inside.

"Richie?" His voice filled with urgency and worry as he examined the car. He wasn't in the back, or anywhere! The blood on the steering wheel only made things worse. "RICHIE!" Eddie shouted, getting out the car. His mind was racing as he raked his hand through his hair. Suddenly it felt like he couldn't breathe, no matter how hard he inhaled he could never catch his breath.

"H-Hey Eds..." The voice was weak, tired, but loud enough to reach Eddie.

The boy's head snapped towards the source of the voice, "RICH" Eddie almost exclaimed. Richie had gotten out of the car and dragged himself on the grassy little hill that led to the road. He was sprawled out in the dark green grass, with a bloodstain on the neck of his shirt.

Eddie ran to him, sliding onto his knees to be beside Richie before asking, "Holy shit... What happened?". After only a moment of being beside him, Eddie smelt something, he leaned closer and inhaled through his nose, "Fuck, Richie have you been drinking? I can't believe you honest-". But the shorter boy stopped when a pair of arms wrapped themselves around him. Richie had sat up and hugged Eddie tightly. At first, the other boy didn't know how to respond, but he slowly gave in and returned the hug. At that moment he felt his breath finally return to his lungs.

He realized in that moment that no matter what he was feeling or where they were, Richie was always able to calm Eddie down. Whether his head was in the clouds or he was in the middle of an anxiety attack, Richie was the only one who knew what to do, and it always worked.

Richie eventually pulled Eddie down onto the grass with him, where the two laid together, their limbs all tangled up and their fingers laced together as they held hands.

Well, people like you always want back what they can't have But I'm past that and you know that

Eddie's head was laying on top of Richie's chest. Slowly rising and falling with the deep breaths that Richie was taking. He slightly shifted his position, he tilted his head up to look at Richie. His eyes were clouded as he stared blankly up into the dark sky. "Are you really sorry?" Eddie's voice was low and soft.

The words caused Richie's eyebrows to knit together in confusion. He slowly sat up, leaning on his elbows causing Eddie to slid off of his chest, he laid beside him. "Eddie, I meant every word I said. I am really sorry about everything I did. I-I let the popularity get to my head, but you know I'd leave all of that behind if that meant I'd make you happy, you know that, right?".

Did Eddie know that? Did he trust him enough to not act out, to not cheat again or spread lies? What was he kidding... The two losers had been best friends since fricken kindergarten, he wasn't going to let Richie's title of Derry High Track Star change that. Cause deep down he was still his Trashmouth.

There was a moment where the two just stared at each other as if Richie hadn't just gotten into a car accident. It was like the rest of the world stopped for a couple of minutes, giving them time to just think.

"Prove it, Trashmouth" Eddie's demand caused a small shiver to run down his spine, no one has called him Trashmouth in a long time. "Prove that you're sorry".

"Whatever you want, my dearest spaghetti" Richie said, slowly closing the distance between the two.

Eddie didn't protest when Richie got closer. He almost didn't even react, he just sat there in shock when Richie's lips brushed up against his own. The kiss was very short and sweet as if the trashmouth was just carefully testing the waters. But Eddie had been testing the water for so long now, trying to figure out his feelings. Sometimes you've just gotta dive right in. That's what he did.

A moment after their lips parted, a smile filled Eddie's face before he leaned back in and kissed Richie Tozier. This kiss was different from the last, it was passionate and forceful, Eddie practically pushed Richie back onto the grass.

The kiss was filled with emotion. It was every moment that the boys didn't spend together over the past two years. Every time they wanted to call, every time they missed the other's touch, every sad night alone and sob session. Finally reunited under the stary night sky. After a childhood of yearning for each other, plus two more years.

So you should turn back to your rat pack, tell 'em trash Tell all of your friends that I'm crazy and drive you mad That I'm such a stalker, a watcher, a psychopath Then tell them you hate me and dated me just for laughs So, why do you call me and tell me you want me back?

Their lips parted for a moment and Eddie took the chance to ask "What about your rat pack?". His voice was quiet and mumbled before the two kissed again.

This time Richie leaned away, he gave Eddie a look and asked  "Why now Eds? Gotta ruin the moment" he smirks up at the shorter boy who laid on top of him, "What about them?".

Eddie pulled away, he mirrored the smirk that Richie wore, "What are you gonna do with them? They aren't exactly my biggest fans. What do they think I am again? A stalker? A watcher? A psychopath?". A playful tone filled his voice before he leaned down and kissed him again.

In response, Richie wrapped his arms around Eddie's waist and rolled over, so now Richie laid on Eddie's chest, his legs slowly wrapping around Richie's. "Fuck them Eds. It's you Eddie, it's always been you..." Richie's voice drifted off as he buried his head deep into the crook of Eddie's neck. His eyes closed while he soaked up the warmth from the other's body. He released a shaky exhale as  Eddie wrapped his arms around Richie's tired body.

"I-I love you Eddie" He whispered. For the first time in a long time, he was serious, no dirty undertones or jokes, he was sharing his true feelings with the boy he cared for most.

"I love you too Richie" he could feel Eddie's cheeks curl into a smile against his own. But he could also feel the smile when it faltered, "Never leave me again" the cold voice said as Richie leaned away so he could look Eddie dead in the eyes.

"It's you and me against the world, you maniac".

Word count: 3486

I hope everyone liked this one shot! I know it was kinda out of character but I really enjoyed writing it and giving the two different backstories and all. I also really enjoy Maniac by Conan Gray and I'm so happy I got to make my own story based on it.

Anyways I really hope you guys enjoyed this song based oneshot, and be prepared cause I've got more like this plan. And if you have a song that you want me to turn into a Reddie one shot then comment or message me! I take requests (;

That's all from my guys,

Until next time

so long and goodnight

[blackirisposts]

Of Ghosts and Coffee Shop Whispers

This work is part of Spoopy October Writing Challenge 2019 (SOWC19) hosted by me, annnnnnd Happy Steve Bingo (HSB) by: @happystevebingo !!! ❤

Prompt: Day 6: Ghost for SOWC19 && Romance Novel for HSB ❤

Pairing: Darcy Lewis x Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes x OMC, Jane Foster x Thor ❤

Word Count: 2404

❤ Book Shop && Coffee Shop ❤

Reblog will include links and tags! ❤

Warnings: Swearing, Mild Crack and the occasional cameo ❤

A/N:  Special thanks to @pegasusdragontiger and @heartbreaker6995 for both shocking my brain into actually working and cranking out this fic ❤

Darcy’s eyes follow the blond man across the room as he moves to wait for his coffee order.  

“You’re staring.” Jane says, not looking up from the small wired contraption she was fiddling with.

“Yep.” Darcy pops the ‘p’ like the word’s made of bubble gum. “What a sight.”

Jane hums not fully paying attention to Darcy.

“Thor’s off world, your loss.” Darcy says with a slurp of her coffee.

“Thor?” Jane looks up and around in confusion.

Darcy pats her hand, “Off world, dear.”

“Right. I knew that.”

Darcy pushes a barely touched panini sandwich towards Jane.

“Eat, my scientific one. It shall give you strength!”

“Eat later. Science now.”

“Eat now. Science, well, also now?” Darcy sighed dragging her eyes back to Jane. “Don’t make me take whatever the hell that thing is away from you until after you’ve finished your no longer hot sandwich thingy.”

“I dare you.” Jane stares at Darcy.

“Jane.” Darcy arches a brow.

“Fine.”

“Love you too.”

Jane takes a few bites as she fiddles with her contraption.

“Still staring.”

“He’s still a sight to behold.”

“You stare at him whenever you see him here. Go talk to him. Dazzle him with your wit.”

“Yeah. That’s likely to happen.”

“Where else are you going to run into him? The lab?”

“No.” Darcy huffed, fixing her mass of curls. “Maybe a bookshop.”

Jane scoffs.

“You never know.” Darcy takes a drawn-out sip of her nearly empty coffee mug. “Okay, but if I ran into the glory of that in a bookshop, I’d die happy. . . oh, and then I could haunt the bookshop, too. . . okay, Jane. New plan!”

As Darcy dreams out loud, a half-asleep man in a stained purple shirt and black apron sidles up to her.

“It’s your lucky day then, Dee.”

Darcy squeaks in an undignified manner, startled by Clint’s sudden appearance at her side. She glares at him, her cheeks tinted pink. Clint’s an incorrigible gossip. And he will definitely tell Nat, another incorrigible gossip. This will not end well.

“Where’d you crawl out of?”

“I’m on break.” Clint shrugs and sips his coffee.

“You know something, Barton?”

“I could use more tips.” Clint arches a brow at Darcy.

“Ha! You’re lucky you make the best coffee in the city.”

Clint chuckles and takes the empty chair at their table, partially blocking Darcy of her glorious view.

“I might know a little something-something about a certain possibly haunted book shop on 66th street. If you’re planning on taking up an additional post to haunt it.”

“Possibly haunted?” Jane asks, suddenly interested in the conversation and not believing a word he says.

“Yeah. There’s like at least two ghosts. They’re—well they’re really annoying. Funny sometimes but mostly annoying.”

Darcy and Jane share a look and Darcy snorts turning back to Clint.

“So, what are you actually saying?”

“Maybe he’ll be there. Maybe he won’t be.”

“But?”

“But I’d check it out if I were you.” Clint grabs the empty cups and crumpled wrapper that once contained Darcy’s Danish. “You two check each other out far too much for you both to not have noticed yet. It’s driving everyone insane.”

“Whatever, dude.” Darcy rolls her eyes, biting her lip to keep her smile at bay. “If this bookshop is real, it’d be worth it to run into him there. Haunted or not.”

“Whatever you say, Dee.” Clint says walking back to the front counter.

“Okay, Jane, new plan. Same plan. Whatever.”

“Darcy. No.”

“Darcy. Yes.”

“Wait, what’s the address?” Darcy looks from Jane to Clint.

‘Look at your phone.’ Clint signs from behind the counter.

Darcy looks down to her phone to see the address and several emojis light up her phone.

“Who put this here?”

“You know who.” A tired voice replies, muffled by the rows of books.

“Dude. You can’t put this here.”

“I can. And I did.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Fix it!”

“There’s nothing to fix. It should go here.”

“No. No, it shouldn’t.”

“Guys.” The tired voice calls out.

“You cannot put Tolkien in the romance section.”

“Yeah. I can.”

“No.”

“It’s totally a romance novel. You’d know that if you ever learned to read.”

“Guys!” The voice calls out again.

“NO!”

“Yes! He goes in every section!”

“Tolkien. Does. Not.”

“Yep. Every one. That’s what everyone wants to read anyways.”

“Oh my god. It’s like arguing with a wall.”

“Guys. Knock it off.” The tired voice shouts.

A barely discernable pair of ‘sorry’s are uttered without feeling. Hushed arguing can still be heard throughout the book shop that finally stops when a book is thrown down aisle slamming into a wall with a harsh thud.

“You done yet?” Darcy asks, tapping the end of her pen against the table top.

“Does it look like I’m done?”

“No. You’re never done. Even when you are, in fact, done.”

“What?”

“You started spouting equations when you were asleep. Remember? I recorded it incase it was something import.”

“I don’t remember that.” Jane eyes Darcy. “There’s no way I did that.”

“You did.” Eric taps his head. “I remember. It was odd. All your equations where correct but they had nothing to do with each other.”

Jane huffs. “Typical.”

“Nah, just proof you need more sleep, Doc.”

“I need more sleep? Or you want to go ghost hunting?”

“Maybe both?” Darcy holds both hands up defensively. “Can’t we have both?”

“Take the rest of the day off, Darcy.” Eric chuckles grabbing the pen from her.

“Really?”

“Yes.” He gives her an incredulous look. “Go have fun with the—ghosts.”

“I don’t think they’re—”

“I don’t want to know. Just call us if you need help or are pulled into another dimension again.”

“Thanks, ma dude.” Darcy bounces on her toes and presses a quick kiss to Eric’s cheek. “And you’ll take care of Jane-y?”

“Yes. Now, go before you convince yourself not to.”

“Alright, alright. Don’t science too hard.”

Darcy bites her lip, checking her phone one more time for address to the bookshop. The entrance is warm and charming. Totally inviting. Not that there was a bookshop that hadn’t agreed with Darcy yet.

The door chimes softly as the smell of fresh coffee and paper flood her nose.

“Yeah. This is a place I could call my forever home.” Darcy mutters to herself.

Not a soul in sight. Only books and a mismatched pair of leather chairs and a purple velvet couch.

Mismatched fairy lights hang crisscrossing overhead, leading to a small stage. A framed chalkboard sign reads: Poetry reading, Tonight 8pm.

Darcy snaps a pic and sends it to Jane and Eric, found my happy place.

She wanders farther into the bookshop when she hears it.

“Was the fair palace door—”

First it sounds like a whisper.

“Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing—”

Now a little louder. The disembodied voice sounded pensive, annoyed even.

“Flowing, flowing, flowing—”

Darcy’s curiosity gets the better of her and she follows the voice, stifling a snort when she hears it curse in frustration.

She hears papers moving and an irritated sigh.

Rounding a corner, she sees the source of the voice. Not a ghost by any means, but definitely something that took her breath away. Before her perched precariously on a stool is a rather large man in a rust colored sweater, his dark hair tied messily in a bun.

“That was really beautiful.”

The man looks up and blushes. “Th-thanks. I’m trying to memorize it before tonight.”

“You’ll get it.”

“I better.” He sighs, his voice dropping low in embarrassment. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“Oh, for who?” Darcy beams a toothy grin at him as his blush darkens.

He hands her his book, an anthology of Poe, open to the poem that he’s struggling with.

“It’s for my boyfriend, it’s his favorite. If I can pull it off, I’m going to ask him to move in with me, too.”

Darcy squeaks out a noise that makes him chuckle.

“I’m Bucky by the way.”

“Darcy.” She replies. “And that is possibly the sweetest thing I’ve heard all month.”

“I call bull, Bucko.”

“What the fuck now, Sam?” Bucky asks, features going neutral.

“No way.” The man referred to as Sam crosses his arms over his chest making himself look intimidating in the small book aisle. “You paid her to come in here and say that. Admit it.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

Darcy snorts, drawing their attention. “You two don’t sound like ghosts.”

“What?” They ask in unison.

A low chuckle is heard an aisle or two over.

Darcy points in the direction of the laugh. “Now there’s your ghost.”

“Ghost?” Sam asks.

“A friend recommended this place, said it was haunted by at least two ghosts, annoying but sometimes funny. I imagine he was talking about you two. You’re not the boyfriend, are you?” Darcy asks Sam as she draws soft lines of graphite in his book.

“Oh, hell no. He wishes.” He chuckles, holding out a hand. “I’m Sam. I can only stand that man as far as I can throw him.”

Darcy takes his hand, offering her name in return.

“What the hell man? You know you can’t throw down like I can.”

“Knock it off, guys.”

“So, is he the ghost then?” Darcy snickers referring to the voice as both men roll their eyes at the phrase they’ve heard far too often.

“No.” Sam seems to pout. “You’d think so, but no.”

Darcy shrugs and hands Bucky the book back. “Here, try to memorize it in chunks, it has more rhythm that way, might be easier.”

“Thank you so much!” Bucky’s face brightens and he wraps Darcy in a quick hug, nearly crushing her. His movements startling her into laughter and cause Sam to roll his eyes.

“Why you gotta hug everyone, man. Some people don’t like it.”

“I don’t mind.” Darcy shrugs with a laugh. “Some people need kindness in physical platonic gestures.”

Sam hums, eyeing Darcy and then Bucky.

“What?” She asks confusion written across her face.

“You thinking what I’m thinking, Buck?”

It takes Bucky a moment, but he gets there. “Oh. Stevie. Yeah.”

“Who?”

“They’d be perfect together.” Sam nods, giving Darcy his sweetest smile. “You’d really love him.”

“No, seriously, who’s Steve?”

“For us to know and you to fall in love with.” Sam arches his brows at her.

“Hey, maybe then he’ll spend less time here giving us a hard time.” Bucky says, nudging Sam.

“Give the lady some room otherwise she’ll never come back here, ya crazy mutts.” Says the voice again, this time closer.

“What?” Darcy asks while Bucky shakes his head and goes back to his book. She looks to Sam who throws his hands in the air in mock defeat.

“We try and we try, Steve.” Sam says, his smirk growing into a full smile. “But we can only do so much for you, old man.”

“This is why business is erratic.” Says the voice, who Darcy is now assuming to be the Steve formerly mentioned. “You two aren’t sharing shifts anymore if you keep this up.”

“Uh oh, looks like you’ve upset the man behind the curtain.” Darcy quips, earning a fist bump from Sam and a chuckle from Bucky.

“Yeah! Good one.” Scott cheers coming around the corner, bowl of orange slices in hand. “Who’s the new girl?” he asks, offering everyone to take from the dish.

“Scott, be cool, man.” Sam shakes his head, grabbing a handful of oranges before walking out of the aisle.

“When am I not cool? I’m cool right?” Scott looks to Darcy, like she’ll back him up.

Bucky chuckles and disappears around the corner before being dragged into it.

Darcy laughs and nods, her words caught in her throat as Steve rounds the corner, rolling his eyes.

“You’re the coolest Scott.” Steve confirms, eyes tired until they fall on Darcy and light up. “Can you finish inventory in the back?”

“Can do Cap!” Scott mock salutes, shoving the large bowl into Steve’s hands as he leaves.

“Sorry about him.” He shuffles his feet a bit, suddenly shy at finding the ‘cute coffee shop girl’ in his shop. “’Bout all of them, really.”

Darcy shakes her head “You must be Steve?” Darcy smiles at the flush starting to color his cheeks.

“Yeah,” He says softly, smile as bright as she knew it’d be. “And you’re—”

“Darcy. It’s nice to meet you, finally.”

“How’d you survive the minotaurs that work here?” He asks, putting the bowl on an empty shelf, his free hand rubbing at the back of his neck.

“I know how to get around a maze with minimum casualties.” Darcy laughs, the sound feeling like a wave of sunshine rippling through his veins.

Steve can’t help but laugh with her. He should have listened to Clint and Nat and talked to her sooner.

“Would you—” He’s interrupted with a tap on the shoulder by a guy with a creepy yet happy smile holding three pizza boxes.

“We didn’t order anything.” Steve says with a confused look. “Wait. Guys? Did you order take out again?”

“No!” Come Bucky and Sam’s reply almost in unison, followed by a late and muffled ‘no’ from Scott.

“Sorry, man.”

“Smells good, though.” Darcy murmurs.

“Eh, thought I’d just say hi. This goes next door.”

“What?” Darcy takes a step closer to Steve.

“Hi. Wade Wilson.” The man says with a sigh of admiration. “Big fan.” And turns to leave.

The door hasn’t shut yet and they hear his voice again from the street.

“Fuck! I got distracted by those baby blues. What was my line? ‘Everything’s better with pizza?’ Fuck it, close enough! Can’t I do it again? Shit!”

“What the fuck was that?” Darcy asks, holding a hand over her mouth as she laughs.

“You keep the pizza, boss?” Bucky yells.

“Or are you two too busy making out already?” Sam sticks his head around the corner waggling his eyebrows.

“Why did I agree to hire you two?” Steve asks, giving Darcy an apologetic look.

“Wanna get out of here?” Darcy slips her hand into Steve’s.

“Yeah.”

“Buck!” Sam yells over his shoulder. “They’re holding hands!”

“Ha! Nat owes me twenty bucks!” Comes Bucky’s voice from behind the stacks of books.

“Coffee shop?”

“Coffee shop.” Steve agrees, his smile faulters. “Wait, do you know Clint?”

“Shit.”  

[astronomyparkers]

The Princes and The Pauper {II}

Warnings: None

Pairing: Tom Holland x reader x Harrison Osterfield

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: I feel like I’m always saying this, but I’m so sorry this update took so long!!  I really do have a hectic schedule and I don’t get much time to write, and when I do have time, I’m never motivated?? I’m the worst tbh. Also, before we move on to the story, I just wanted to do a bit of housekeeping. I DO NOT HAVE A TAGS LIST!!!!!!!!! Please stop sending me messages asking to be added, as I will not respond!!  The reason why is in my FAQ (which I ask people to check before sending an ask but...no one ever does?) and I hate that I’m probably coming off rude right now, but I try to respond to everyone, and I have to sort through so many messages asking about things I’ve already taken the time to address.  I appreciate you all like my story so much, but I am Very Tired. Please. I beg you. Don’t do it. Now that that’s out of the way...I hope you enjoy! also side note: I can’t find any good gifs of Tom and Harrison looking fancy together.  I have a couple pics??? But I like to use gifs for the beginning of my posts :(

{masterlist}

“His pen was monogrammed?  Seriously?” Jade snorted before she took a bite of her croissant. “Where do you even buy a monogrammed pen?”

“A pen store?” Penelope suggested, licking some icing from her donut off her finger. “They have those, right?”

“But why would you need a monogrammed pen?  Seems like it’s kind of niche market, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know…it gets the message across.”

“What message?”

“The ‘I’m a pretentious douche who could buy out your entire life in an instant’ message.”

“Guys.” You rolled your eyes. “Can we drop it with the monogrammed pen thing?  Was that really all you took away from my story?”

“It’s distracting!” Jade insisted. “Like, under what circumstance would you need your pen to be monogrammed?  Where in the world is—is pen thievery so bad that you need a pen that is embossed with your name?”

“I told you,” Penelope cut in as you opened your mouth. “It’s for him to sign his important rich guy name on important rich guy documents for his important rich guy company, in the most pretentious way possible.”

“You know what?” You finished your danish and crumpled up the wrapper before throwing it in the trash. “That’s it.  This conversation is over.  We’re done discussing this.”

“Okay, okay, we’re sorry.” Jade laughed, laying her head on your shoulder affectionately. “Please continue to tell us about Rich and Richer.”

“Their names are Tom and Harrison, and you know that.” You shook your head. “And that’s pretty much the end of the story, anyways.  I haven’t seen them or heard from them since the gala.”

“But that was three days ago!” Penelope frowned. “They haven’t called?  Don’t they know we only have three more weeks in New York?”

“I didn’t exactly have time to give them the full itinerary of our trip when I was running from security, Penelope.” You turned the corner and glanced up at the different skyscrapers around you, wondering if one of them was the office they had mentioned they had.

“I know, but still…” Penelope shrugged. “It sounds like they were pretty into you.  I thought they would’ve called by now, to find out why you ran at the very least.”

 And the truth was, so had you.  By the time the three of you had made it back to your AirBnB rental, you were a little saddened to see that there was no text from a new number.  And when you woke up the next day, with no new messages to display, you were surprised.  Even if Tom and Harrison weren’t as interested in you as you thought they were, didn’t they at least want to know why three security guards chased you through the MET?  Even with the circles they ran in, you didn’t think that a girl running away from guards in heels would be a common occurrence.  Didn’t they want to know the full story?

“It doesn’t matter.” You shook your head and sighed. “They’re not calling, and I refuse to spend my time in New York waiting for that call to not come.  So let’s just…drop it.  Okay?”

“Okay.” Jade and Penelope both nodded.

You pushed Tom and Harrison to the back of your mind as you continued walking down the New York street.  Despite wondering why they never called, you really did want to put the whole thing behind you.  You only had so much time in New York, and you were determined to make the most of it. So what if two incredibly attractive socialites spent a whole evening flirting with you and then never called? That had never been in the New York plan anyways, and it didn’t belong there now.  You didn’t need a phone call or text from Tom or Harrison.  You didn’t.

 You did such a good job convincing yourself of that, that when your phone rang that night and displayed an unknown number with a New York area code on the screen, you didn’t even think that it could be them.

Penelope, Jade, and you were bustling around the kitchen, trying to decide what to do for the night as you made dinner.  Jade wanted to go out to a club, while Penelope wanted to visit Times Square again, and you were the deciding vote.  While the three of you cooking in a confined space together usually resulted in a mess, the kitchen was practically a war zone as your friends both argued their sides.

“C’mon, Y/N,” Jade pleaded as she grabbed cheese from the fridge. “We’ve already gone to Times Square, but we haven’t gone to this club yet!”

“The last time you dragged us to an event, we almost got arrested.” Penelope rolled her eyes before resuming whisking the sauce beginning to bubble on the stove. “And besides, we went to Times Square during the day!  Night time is completely different!”

“What do you mean, ‘completely different’?” Jade made air quotes with a kitchen knife still in her hand. “Lots of people, giant billboards, knock off superheroes to take pictures with…you’ve gone to Times Square once, you’ve gone a million times!”

“That’s not true! Y/N, tell her!”

“Y/N is on my side! Right?”

“Oh my God, can you guys be quiet for one minute?” You asked, rubbing your temples gently, ignoring the flour you got on your face as you did so. “I swear, you’re driving me insane.”

“Just tell us which one you pick so we can go!”

“God.  Fine.” You sighed deeply as you continued to mix ingredients together. “I choose—”

Your phone interrupted your sentence, ringing loudly from the kitchen counter.  

“Jade, can you grab that?  I’m a little busy.”

“It’s not a number from your contacts…917…?” Jade frowned in confusion. “Whose number is this?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, blowing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Answer it and find out.”

Jade did as you asked, turning on the speaker phone option and setting it back down on the counter before beginning to grate cheese.

“Hello?” You said loudly, as Jade and Penelope had resumed bickering quietly in the background.

“Hello,” A British voice played through your phone’s speaker. “Sorry, is this Y/N?  Y/N Y/L/N?”

“Speaking.” You responded absentmindedly, dusting flour off your hands.

“Hey, Y/N.  This is Harrison Osterfield.  From the MET.”

For a split second, you, Jade, and Penelope all froze, just staring at each other in shock. Then you all dove for the phone simultaneously, trying desperately to grab it before anyone else could.  Elbows were thrown, arms were scratched, and you were pretty sure Penelope pulled your hair, but you emerged with the phone in hand. Before your friends could stop you, you took the phone off speaker mode and raised it to your ear.

You pushed back your friends, raising a finger to your lips to silence them. “Sorry, um, what was that?”

“I said, is everything okay?  I heard yelling…”

“Y-yeah!  Yeah, it’s fine.” You cleared your throat and tried to sound calm (and not like the small fight with your friends had winded you). “So…what’s up?”

“You gave us your number.  Didn’t you want us to call?” Harrison’s voice was a little muffled, and you began to realize that you were on speaker and Tom was most likely listening.

“Technically, I gave Tom my number.” You cleared some plates from the counter and pulled yourself up onto it, crossing your ankles as you spoke. “And three days is a little late to call, don’t you think?”

You heard Tom’s laughter quietly in the background, confirming your suspicions that he was there.

“We’ve been busy, love.” Harrison replied, amusement apparent in his tone. “We do work, believe it or not.”

“Really?  I was under the impression that you just partied.”

“And we were under the impression that you belonged at that gala, but you ended up being chased out by security.” You could practically see Harrison’s smirk. “Care to explain?”

“Would you believe I was lost?”

“Not for a second.” Harrison laughed.

“Yeah, well…” You smiled sheepishly, even though Harrison couldn’t see you. “That’s wise of you.”

“But Tom and I would still like to know.” Harrison said. “Would you like to come over tonight? Tom and I were going to have a little movie night at our penthouse, and we could use a third.”

Your eyes widened. “You—tonight?”

Penelope poked your arm. “What is he saying?”

Jade mimicked her movement. “What about tonight?”

“The car will be there in a half hour.” Harrison continued, ignoring your interjection. “You’re in that apartment off 42nd and 12th, right?”

“Yeah, I—how did you know that?” You questioned in confusion.

“I have my ways.”

“That sounds vaguely serial killer-like.”

“I’m much too attractive to be a serial killer.”

“Yeah…I really don’t think that’s how that works.”

“Nevertheless, the car will be there in a half hour.  We’re sending our best driver, Johnson.  He’ll buzz your apartment when he arrives.”

You cleared your throat. “Look, Harrison, it’s a nice offer but…my friends and I have plans tonight and—”

“I’m sure they won’t mind if we steal you for one evening.”

“Actually—”

Penelope hit your stomach. “What are you doing?”

“Say yes, you idiot!” Jade hissed.

“But we—”

Penelope grabbed your phone from your hand. “She’d be delighted, Harrison!  She’ll be ready to go in half an hour!”

Your eyes widened and you reached for the phone, but Jade grabbed your arms and held them tight.

“Hey!  I didn’t say yes to—”

“Uh huh.  Nice talking to you, too.  Bye now!” Penelope hung up your phone with a smile.

“Penelope, what the fuck was that?” You asked, eyes wide as you snatched your phone from her hands.

“That was me getting you a personal invite to two hot, rich, English guys’ penthouse.” Penelope grinned. “You’re welcome.”

“No!  I’m not welcome!  I didn’t say thank you!” You exclaimed hotly. “I don’t want to—what the fuck am I supposed to do tonight?”

Jade said “Watch a movie,” as Penelope answered “Suck their dicks!”

“Penelope!”

“What?”

“That’s not happening.” You shook your head adamantly. “I’m not being hired out like some prostitute!”

“Who said anything about prostitution?  That implies money changing hands.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“No, I’m not.”

“I’m not going.”

“Yes, you are!”

“No, I’m not!”

 Yet, somehow, twenty-seven minutes later, you were being led to a town car by a middle aged man with salt and pepper hair, who was dressed in a stereotypical chauffeur outfit and had introduced himself as Johnson.  Penelope and Jade had watched you drive off from the steps of the apartment building, amusement written all over their faces.  The emotion you felt, however, was in direct contrast to theirs, as your stomach tossed and turned with nerves for the entirety of the drive.

Johnson took you into the heart of Manhattan, pulling up outside a giant skyscraper that had gold lettering reading OH TOWER on the front of it.

“OH.  Is that for—?”

“Osterfield-Holland.” Johnson confirmed before getting out and opening your door for you. “The Tower is owned by Holland Enterprises and Osterfield Incorporated, as part of their shared business ventures.  They have towers all over the world, but their New York location is the most grand.”

“That’s…nice.” You answered, your voice faint as you stared up at the Tower.

Johnson extended a hand and helped you out of the car. “Just introduce yourself to the doorman. He’ll take you up to Mr. Holland and Mr. Osterfield’s penthouse suite.”

“The penthouse…right.” You got out of the car. “Um, thanks.”

“My pleasure. Goodnight, Miss Y/L/N.”

 You bid Johnson goodnight and walked to the door.  The doorman seemed to be waiting for you, and greeted you with a smile.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N…I think I—”

“Ah, yes.” The doorman smiled again before opening the door for you. “Mr. Holland and Mr. Osterfield are expecting you.”

“I—yes.  Yes, they are.”

“Excellent. Let’s head up, shall we?” The doorman motioned for you to head inside and followed you after you did so

You walked unsteadily into the lobby, unsure of what you may find, but the sight in front of you didn’t disappoint.

The lobby of the Tower was just as grand as Johnson had promised.  High archways, marvelous stone columns, and accents of golf against the white marble…every inch of the entrance way dripped with stature.  The people you saw milling about moved with purpose and status, the same way Tom and Harrison had at the gala. Straightening your posture in an attempt to feel less out of place, you headed for the elevator.

The doorman pressed the button and allowed you to enter the elevator before he did.  Even the elevator was grand, with mirrors and gold trim everywhere you looked.  The button panel confused you, however, as there were only fifty buttons, despite it being clear that the Tower was much larger than that.  The only other thing on the panel was a small blank screen

“Are Tom and Harrison on floor fifty?” You asked.

“Oh, no, miss. They’re on floor ninety-eight, the top floor.” The doorman answered as he pulled a key card from his pocket. “The higher floors have more restricted access, and require a key card to gain entrance.”

He held the card to the small screen, and a beep sounded from the panel.  The elevator began moving without warning, and ascended smoothly to the top floor.

Once there, the elevator doors opened with a ding, revealing a short hallway and a door.

You followed the doorman off the elevator and to the door, where he knocked on the door.

The door opened and revealed Tom.  He had the same easy going smile he had at the gala a few nights before, but instead of the tux he had been wearing, he was dressed in some sort of royal blue, silk pajama…thing.

“Hello, darling.” Tom greeted you. “It’s so nice to see you again.  Lester, thank you for bringing her up.”

Tom passed the doorman—Lester—a small stack of bills.  You could see that the outside bill was a fifty.

“My pleasure, Mr. Holland.  Please let me know if I can get you anything else.”

“I will.  Tell your daughters I say hi.  They’re in the fifth grade now, if my memory serves correct?” Tom leaned against the door frame with a grin.

Lester smiled in response. “They are.  I’ll send them your best.”

“I appreciate it.” Tom turned his attention to you. “Come on in, Y/N.  Let me show you around.”

You nodded wordlessly and allowed Tom to take your hand and pull you inside.  Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of the front hall of the penthouse.

You had been imagining what the home of the likes of Tom and Harrison would look like, but you could have never imagined the grandeur in front of you.  And yet, now that you had seen it, you couldn’t imagine anything else.  Of course every outside wall was a window, giving a spectacular view of the New York skyline.  Of course there was gold banisters, crystal chandeliers, and expensive artwork adorning the walls.  It looked like every mansion you had ever seen on reality TV shows about the 1%, all rolled into one.

“Do you like it, love?” Tom asked, squeezing your hand as you looked around.

“It’s…yeah. It’s unbelievable.”

“It is, isn’t it? Everything here was handpicked and designed for Harrison and I.” Tom said as he ran a hand over a marble side table. “We just put the finishing touches on it last year.”

You nodded again as you mimicked Tom and gently touched the marble side table.

“Come on.” Tom tugged on your hand and gave you a soft smile. “Haz is waiting for us in the theatre.”

“Theatre?”

“Well, it’s not quite the size of a standard movie theatre.” Tom shrugged as he led you to a double door. “This is a New York City penthouse, after all.”

Tom pressed a button outside the doors and they opened, revealing a mirrored and gold elevator. Your eyes widened as he led you inside before pushing a button with a 2 on it.

“Would you care to explain why your penthouse has five floors?” You asked, eyeing the button panel as the doors slid shut.

“Our entrance, kitchen, and living room is on the first floor, all of our entertainment spaces are on the second, extra space, guest rooms, and other miscellaneous things are on the third, Haz and I’s bedroom suites are on the fourth,” Tom counted off on his fingers before frowning. “What am I—oh!  Yes.  The fifth floor is the roof, where we have an outdoor patio, pool, and hot tub.  It’s very well organized.”

You tried not to let your jaw fall open. “Wow.  So you really are the 1%, huh?”

“I have no idea what you mean.” Tom smirked as the elevator came to a stop. “Come, darling.  It’s not nice of us to keep Harrison waiting.”

 You did your best to keep your expression neutral as you passed through what Tom had called the entertainment space.  If you had a dime for everything that you passed that cost more than your university tuition, you probably could have afforded the rent on an apartment like this.  You had no idea why anyone would need a small, private aquarium wall in their apartment, but you passed three before reaching a set of large double doors.

Tom opened the door for you, motioning you inside.

“Ladies first.” He said with a grin.

You walked inside, only to be greeted with the scent of freshly popped popcorn, sticky sweet caramel, and the faint air of expensive cologne.  You looked around at the movie theatre style seats and large projection screen before turning to look at the back of the room, where the scents were coming from.

There was a concession stand, featuring a popcorn machine and a tray of various candies and chocolates.  Next to that was a small bar, which Harrison was behind.  He had his back turned to you as he grabbed bottles of alcohol, before turning back around and greeting you with a grin.

“Y/N, love!” He said as he began mixing a drink. “I’m so glad you were able to make it.  Are you thirsty?”

“I—sure?” You answered nervously as you and Tom approached the bar.

Harrison poured out a pink concoction into a martini glass and handed it to you. “Try that. It’s my own recipe.”

“Harrison and I picked up a bit of mixology in Milan a couple years ago.” Tom explained as he watched you take a sip.

“It’s really good.” You said, licking your lips as you looked at Harrison. “You made this? Really?”

“I picked up mixology much quicker than Tom did.” Harrison said, a smirk playing on his lips as he busied himself making another drink.

“Yes, but I was the one who closed the deal with Orwell that trip.” Tom rolled his eyes as Harrison handed him a glass of something red and orange. “So don’t get cocky.”

“Why?  It’s what I do best.” Harrison made a drink for himself before stepping out from behind the bar. “Did Tom give you the grand tour yet, love?”

You opened your mouth to reply, but Tom answered for you.

“An explanation, but not a tour.  I wanted to ease her into it.”

“Such a gentleman.” Harrison rolled his eyes and sipped his drink. “Is it overwhelming for you, Y/N?”

“A little, yeah.” You shrugged as the boys led you to a seat. “It’s just…I can’t even fathom having this much money to just…spend?”

“Well, that’s what money is made for.” Tom sat own next to you, a small smile on his lips. “Letting it sit around in a bank is no fun.”

“But can’t you think of more useful things to spend it on than…an in-home theatre with its own bar and concession stand?” You asked, raising an eyebrow as Harrison went to fiddle with the projector towards the back of the room. “I think having your own cotton candy machine is a bit much.”

“We do spend it on useful things.  Business, traveling, education…” Harrison took a seat on the other side of you and reclined back, moving your chair so yours would fall back also. “And every month Osterfield Inc. gives 1.5% of its income to charity.”

“As does Holland Enterprises.” Tom absentmindedly stroked your hand.

“1.5%?” You took a sip of your drink as you looked between the two boys.

“It equals roughly £499, 500.” Harrison answered nonchalantly. “Give or take £50, 000, depending on the month.”

You choked on your drink and coughed loudly, leaning forward in your chair.  Instantly, both boys were concerned, rubbing your back as they furrowed their brows.

“Love?  Are you okay?”

“£500, 000 is only 1.5% of your company’s income?  Per month?” You said incredulously. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“What?  Why is that—oh, right.” Tom shook his head. “You’re probably not used to that.”

“No.  I’m not.” You sighed as the movie started. “It’s just…seeing all your wealth casually like this?  It’s strange.  It’s weird.”

“As weird as you crashing that gala at the MET?” Harrison asked.

“Weirder.  And for the record, that was Jade’s idea. We’re only in New York for a month. May as well make the most of it.”

“You’re only here for a month?” Tom asked, frowning. “Why a month?”

“Because that’s when our apartment rental ends?  And our flight is booked for then?  And we have our actual lives to get back to?”

“So we only have a month with you.”

“Technically, it’s three weeks now.” You smiled a bit, turning your attention back to the movie.

“Three weeks. That’s it?” Harrison’s voice was tinged with disbelief. “That’s no good at all.”

“Why not?”

“Three weeks is barely anything!”

Tom pulled out his phone and started flipping through it. “We’ll have to postpone the overnight trip to LA, then.  And maybe push dinner at—”

“What trip to LA?” You asked in confusion.

Harrison made an annoyed sound. “Tom, you div, that was supposed to be a surprise—”

“What trip to LA?” You interrupted again, looking between both boys.

“It was just going to be a quick dinner, love.” Tom replied, not looking up from his phone. “We’d leave in the afternoon, be back by the next.  There’s a small restaurant downtown that we—”

“We can’t—I’m not going to LA!”

“Well, not now, obviously.” Tom laughed a little bit. “If we only have three weeks in New York, why would we fly somewhere else?  No, we can save that for a different time.  Maybe make it a full weekend.”

“Oh, that would be fun!” Harrison agreed. “You start university again, what, at the beginning of September?  It could be a nice weekend retreat before you get caught up with classes.”

“I don’t think the two of you are getting this.” You inhaled deeply, pressing a hand to your forehead. “I am not going to LA with you, at any time.”

“And why not?”

“Why—?  Because we barely know each other!” You exclaimed incredulously.  You struggled to form a clear, coherent sentence as your thoughts raced. “I can’t accept a trip from two strangers I—you’re probably not used to hearing no, but—look, I’m just not comfortable with—” You took another deep breath. “Coming here tonight was a mistake.  I should go.”

You stood up, only to be pulled back down by two sets of hands.

“No, love, don’t go.” Harrison pleaded. “We didn’t mean to upset you.”

“We’re truly sorry, Y/N.” Tom added, giving you puppy dog eyes. “I know we can be a bit…presumptuous—”

“The word I would use is arrogant, actually.”

“That too.” Tom smiled slightly. “We’re just not quite used to making plans with someone who isn’t in the same life as we are.  Like I said earlier…we forget that this is all new to you.”

“You’ve both been really nice, seriously, but…” You bit your lip. “I don’t want to be your charity project, you know?  Talking with you is fun, sure, but you can’t just throw around plans about trips across the country and dinners at famous restaurants like it’s nothing.  That’s not nothing to me.”

“We know.  We’re sorry.” Harrison rubbed your back soothingly. “No trip to LA.  At least, not yet.  We’ll talk it over with you first, so you’re comfortable.”

Tom nodded. “We don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“This whole thing makes me a little uncomfortable.” You admitted as Harrison handed you your drink again.  You took a sip before continuing. “I feel a bit…bought?”

“What do you mean?” Harrison asked, his brow furrowed.

You shrugged as Tom turned down the volume of the movie that none of you were paying attention to. “I don’t know…I feel like the two of you are trying to…impress me?”

“Of course we are.” Tom replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Is that bad?”

“With the way you’re doing it?  Yes.”

Tom and Harrison both looked a little shocked.  You could tell that no girl had ever objected to their affections like you had before.

“Why?  I’m a little lost.” Harrison admitted as he sipped his drink.

“I liked spending time with you at the gala.  It was fun, and I had a good time.  And I think you’re both good people that I want to be friends with.  But I can’t get to know you two if you’re constantly trying to buy my attention.  All of this may be pocket change to you, but it means something to me, okay?” You tucked some hair behind your ear. “To me, a movie night is ordering in cheap pizza, mixing together vodka and Coke, and watching a cheesy, so-bad-it’s-almost-good-movie on my friend’s bed.  Not sitting in a private, in-home theatre, drinking fancy cocktails, and watching…what even are we watching?  Is that Jeff Goldblum?”

“It’s his new movie. Technically, it’s not out until the end of the summer, but we have connections.”

“See!  That’s weird!  You have a Jeff Goldblum guy?”

Tom and Harrison both laughed at your facial expression before pausing the movie.

“Okay.  We’ll be normal.  Or try to be, at least.” Tom said, finishing off his cocktail. “You mentioned…cheap pizza?  And bad movies?”

You nodded as Tom pulled out his phone again.

“We’ll have it delivered.  Why don’t you and Harrison head to his bedroom and—”

“Nope.  No way.  I don’t trust either of you in your bedrooms.” You shook your head and crossed your arms.

Harrison laughed. “Fine.  What about a guest room?  Is that better?  I’m sure we can find a cheesy movie that’s to your liking in there.”

You shrugged. “Okay. I guess that works.”

Tom smiled. “Good. I’ll meet the two of you there.”

Harrison stood up and offered you a hand, helping you out of your seat and towards the door.

As you walked down the hallway and to the elevator, Harrison began to chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing.” He said, shaking his head. “I just think these next few weeks are going to be…very interesting.”