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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years ago

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I live in the neighbourhood - Part 3

What happened to the cycling classes after work and the occasional drinks with coworkers? Now it was flying to Italy to vacation for the December holidays with Harry and his family and friends.

Ok part 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and the final part of ilitn i believe! let me know what you think! plssss! Not proofread, but your support means the most and it means the world to see your thoughts, literally anything about it, and this little harry I always have to remember that’s the simp your honor ^ right there! anyway happy reading!

Read Part 1 | 2

Word Count: 10.9k | Warnings: swearing, smut! (finally) - oral (m+f receiving, dirty talk, choking? i can’t remember ngl there might not be, sloppy sex, outdoors by the pooldeck just btw, christmas, idk but hopefully nothing I missed, feelings! happy ending (possibly rushed

“You’re really flying to Italy and then traipsing around the Italian countryside for three weeks with Harry and his family? I cannot believe you’re leaving me behind.”

“You’re gonna kill me for saying this, but he had said I could invite a friend or two if I wanted. But I thought it’d be weird with his family so you literally can’t be mad at me!”

“Fine. I’ll move past it, but how did you move past the whole panic attack? Like you barely spoke to him for a month and then he’s on your doorstep and you’re kissing and agreeing to a Roman Holiday?”

“It’s Harry,” she sighs, laying down on her couch. “How could I not, I got scared because he was gone, but once he was back, nothing else mattered.”

“I guess,” Cate mumbles.

“Oof, sorry Cate I have another call, I’ve got to go…”

By the time she tries to pick up the other line has gone to a message and she’s left to listen to her boss over a voicemail:

“Hey Y/N, I know your holidays have just begun, but I wanted to inform you that you’ll be getting a new client in the new year. Big artist! Anyway, just wanted to inform you that I’ll be emailing over some of their paperwork. Feel free to ignore it until the new year! Have a nice trip.”

She sighs. “Interesting...but will definitely be waiting for the new year to even think about work,” she says to herself.

She throws her phone to the side. Tired of all the phone tag and messages she had begun to have to deal with as the Holiday season dawned more and more upon her. She had more important things to think about. Most important being the suitcase laid out before her and the flight she was bound to be taking in less than 24 hours. This time, she wouldn’t be picking Harry up from the airport. No, this time they were flying out of London Heathrow together.

Together together? She wasn’t sure. The kiss on her doorstep and plea of Italian holiday meant a lot to her, but did it scream committed relationship? She had no idea when it came to Harry. Maybe it was better not to ask and just wait until he told her. Wondering had gotten her in a pit last time and she never wanted to feel the way she had over the last month while he had been gone.

She sleeps in her bed for one last night before leaving for a month. Harry had managed to convince the airline to allow Rori to ride with them in first class, so she wouldn’t have to leave her dog in a kennel or with friends during the holidays. She was grateful for that and she just didn’t understand how she had gotten so lucky as to have someone like Harry in her life.

They fly first class and while Harry had secured her ticket last minute, she insisted that he take her money to pay for the ticket. She was determined to not lose herself in this process. She would happily go along with Harry’s crazy life as long as she maintained her constitution. And paying for her own ticket was one of her ways of doing that.

The flight is short, a quick jaunt compared to the arduous trips across the Atlantic, both her and Harry were quite used to from their work and family lives. He smiles at her throughout the journey, coming across the aisle often to check on her and pet Rori. He would make little jokes that wouldn’t make anyone else laugh but them and he would grab the airpod she would take out and play whatever she had been listening to and offer a dance. His little dances were so sweet, if strange and awkward in the small flight cabin.

She wore grey marbled leggings and a matching thick strapped tank top beneath a nondescript hoodie. Harry’s dressed quite nice for traveling, she presumes in case he’s papped. Linen trousers, a collared coat, and some beaded necklaces he had taken to wearing over the last few months - each month seemed to add on another necklace, but she wasn’t counting.

He had reminded her to bring large sunglasses for the airport.

He had said “I don’t care if we’re seen together, but it’s more for your comfort. I hate when my friend’s lives are put on display for the whole world. You’re not the one who signed up for this.”

She had been appreciative and grabbed her largest pair of sunglasses because truthfully she didn’t want to be seen with Harry. She didn’t want the whole world knowing her or her business, it wasn’t who she was. No, not at all. So when they step off the plane and head to baggage claim after customs, she feels aware of her surroundings in a way she never has been. It reminds her of the way Jeff, Charlotte, and Mitch had conducted themselves in the bar that one time. Extremely alert. Watching people’s eye movements and considering whether they recognized her companion. She trails behind him a fair amount, three paces at least. Harry glances back every few moments, checking in to make sure she’s still with him as they move through the bustling airport.

They make it to baggage claim with no stops, but sadly Harry’s luggage seems to give him away. That or just his presence, he was a 6 foot tall and extremely broad man who gave off this energy that couldn’t help but turn eyes. And all it took was one of those eyes to recognize the fluff of hair, the olive-y skin, the peaking bird tattoos and colorful necklaces to alert the world of just where he was.

He doesn’t get stopped for any pictures, but she feels the number of eyes on him grow. She also watches as Harry doesn’t shrink from the growing attention. If anything, it simply makes him move quicker, but only slightly. He glances at her once to see her hood up and big green glasses covering up half her face. Rori has left his carrier and is covering the other half as she pushes a cart in front of her. He makes a nondescript nod and then sets off towards the exit, she follows behind easily.

By the time they’re in the car that was waiting to drive them to Harry’s villa, he’s gotten buzzed by Jeff just to check-in since a few photos have been uploaded of him at the airport. People were so fast. She shook her head in disbelief as she looked up Harry Styles on twitter and saw the scene she had just been apart of minutes ago on her screen now. She’s unrecognizable in the photos she happens to appear in and to everyone else she looks like another traveler instead of Harry’s companion or whatever she was to him. Instead of his friend.

Harry calls Jeff as they’re driven to his lovely sprawling home near Lake Como. He informs him they’re fine - he is quick to ensure that Y/N is well after asking her himself once they had gotten into the confines of the small car. She thinks it’s sweet especially because she was sure that Jeff really was more focused on Harry and his well-being since he was both his friend and his client while she was just an extra. The two men talk about the flight and customs and what Jeff will be doing with his holiday since he had turned down Harry’s invitation to come out to Italy as well. This leaves her to stare out the window at the passing scenery. She and Rori are completely content with this as they watch the tranquil life around them as they pass by little forests and towns over cobblestoned ground.

The colors seem brighter throughout Italy compared to the sad and gloomy winter of London. The dreary scape traded for something far more picturesque. Italy growing ever more beautiful the closer they drive to Harry’s home. Everything was so radiant, from the sun shining above her head to the little dew drops still pooled on the perfectly green leaves of plants she knew not the names of.

The car pulls up to the long driveway to Harry’s place which he insisted was just a house, but she knew better. The driveway felt like half a mile of perfect cobblestones, seemingly handpicked to make the smoothest drive. Outside the house sat a gorgeous little convertible that was in between steel and cream and sparkled in the sun. The top was currently up, but she could tell the interior was just as nice as the exterior. Harry had a thing for cars and she suspected that no matter where he was, he managed to keep his cars in perfect condition.

The house was breathtaking due to its simultaneous simplicity and intricacy. It’s coloring was variations of cream and gold and some terra cotta. But it sprawled into the hillside behind it and wrapped around the nature to the side of it and the pool to the back right of it. There also was a little separate shed like thing that also seemed to be a residence. Harry insisted it was just an extra bedroom, but it looked like almost another house to her.

As she stepped out of the car, she thought that she might get lost in that house if she was left to wander around it by herself. A feeling she feared to get accustomed to.

The door of the house was a dark green that seemed oddly familiar to her as she walked through it. And when Harry looked back to make sure she had gotten in the house alright she recognized it. His door somehow matched the color of his eyes in dark lighting. A green that was timeless and ancient at the same time. A green that was unnerving yet inviting. A green that was Harry. She never thought she had a favorite color, but in that moment she was sure it was his eyes.

Harry calls her name and she realizes he’s been saying it for awhile.

“Sorry?”

He smiles fondly at her confused face and leans towards her as if he might kiss her. She stops breathing in that moment, wanting more than anything for that to be his next move. His chest brushes against hers, his warmth invading her space. His face is a mere milimeter from hers and she can count every speck of stubble on his jaw. But his lips don’t brush gently over hers in a way that she knew was addicting. Instead, his strong hand reaches past her and shuts the entrancing green door gently.

His eyes flicker back to her face when he pulls back, taking a single step backwards to allow for a comfortable space between them. Still close, but not like he’s about to embrace her expecting frame and kiss her.

“I asked if you wanted a tour of the house? Or if you just wanted me to pick your room.” His eyes are crinkled at the corner, a smile on his face even though his mouth is hung open in a lingering question.

She blinks her eyes and twitches her head to glance around the rest of her surroundings. Rori had run off the moment they had gotten in the door. The hallway Harry and she found themselves was narrow and simple, a single painting right behind Harry’s head was the sole decoration and a tapestry style rug beneath their feet. She nods after a moment, feeling all her words caught somewhere in her throat for no reason at all.

“Good,” he nods and gives her a funny look, trying to understand her quiet demeanor. “Just drop your stuff here for now,” he adds.

His hand encircles her wrist, as it had grown accustomed to, to lead her through the house. She bites her lower lip to muffle the little giggle that somehow escapes her as he tugs her playfully down and through the house.

He goes on about almost every piece of art and trinket he has hung and placed throughout the house. Each thing has its story and Harry waxes eloquent on every single one. He shows her each room in the house and then leads her outside through the single door of the master bedroom on the second floor. The door takes them onto a small balcony that overlooks the center of the estate which included the pool and then a garden to the left of the converted poolhouse - what Harry insisted it be called when Y/N had told him it was a mini house.

His hand has traveled down to intertwine with hers as the tour had drawn on. So as he leads her down the little spiral staircase to the ground floor, she hums at the warmth his thumb rubs into her skin ever so softly. His eyes flicker to her face and hold her gaze for a moment as he watches her descend the last two stairs.

She smiles at him, her cheeks rosy from the air outside. They walk between the garden and the pool to reach the ��converted pool house” and she stops for a moment to dance her fingers through the perfectly clean pool water - he must have had a housekeeper who came by recently to open everything up and clean it all.

“This is truly amazing, Harry,” she sighs as she stares out at the entire house from the single stone upstep to the little cottage. It gave her a view of the entire place besides the front of the house. It was gorgeous.

Harry nods, tucking his head to his chest slightly, possibly feeling a little bashful. Behind the successful man that stood before her was a young boy with a dream that had made this possible and he never forgot that.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely and unlocks the door of the cottage, a similar green is painted on this door as well.

She goes ahead of him at his request and he watches her fingers on the green paint, caressing it softly, each finger never wishing to leave it as they slowly depart its surface. This place is just a microcosm of the house they had just been. A kitchenette, a living area, a bedroom, and a full bath - including a freestanding tub.

She all but runs around the place, fingers running over the countless spines of books that Harry mindlessly chose to store there in ceiling high bookshelves and eyes taking in prints of personal photography he had been too nervous to store anywhere but here. There were larger poster sized prints as well as smaller ones, all black and white, of different scenes on the walls of the living area. Some were portraits of loved ones, others were landscapes of cities and countryside alike, and some were of past lovers with their hair swept behind them as they looked back at Harry in some beautiful place. She smiled at these obviously film photographs and turned to Harry after a moment, almost mirroring the people in the more personal pictures.

“When’s the last time you used your camera?” She asks.

Harry’s figure is perched in the door, his body slightly slumped on the frame while he rolls his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger. He hums, thinking back to the last time he took out his camera.

“Last tour...I think. I got film back with Camille in it and I just didn’t feel like putting more in it after that,” he rasps out and clears his throat at the end, clearly unnerved by the topic.

“Well, these are beautiful, you have a smart eye for catching precious moments,” she smiles softly, understanding Harry’s apprehension.

“Thanks,” his voice still a bit deeper than usual, “I still use my Super8 pretty regularly when I’m doing things for work. Like when I shoot music videos, I usually bring it along to get my own footage for later.”

She only nods and watches him enter the room, moving closer to her to gaze at the images more up close as well.

“I like to have something to remember it by. Just in case, someday,” he starts and sighs, eyes trained on the wall of memories, “My mind isn’t what it once was.”

She watches him delicately place his hand on the couch behind them to brace himself and she notices the slight fear in his face as he says it. She blinks at the scene in front of her. A man in an amazing moment in his life fearful that it might all disappear from his vision someday. A horrible thought that seems to plague him more often than one would expect.

She nudges closer to him immediately. Her shoulder brushes his arm as she presses her head to his own shoulder and stays there firmly.

“Thank you,” she whispers and his head drops down to look at her face now radiating warmth against him. “For sharing this with me.”

His hand on the couch moves to wrap around her shoulders and pull her closer. Instinctively, she wraps her arms around his waist and he rests his head atop of hers. He stays silent but places a chaste kiss in her hair. She squeezes harder, telling him everything is alright and all he had to be with her was himself.

He switches his gaze between the girl wrapped up in him and the pictures of the rest of his life in front of him and he takes it all in. He feels safe, a comfort he was hard pressed to find with his life always on the move. The bustling change felt eons away while he was wrapped up in her. She was constant and kind. Understanding. She took him as he was, no expectations. That realization has him melting further into her, his head dropping down to her shoulder and nosing into her hair. His hands cusping at the back of her neck and the small of her back. And he presses firmly yet gently.

They stand there, swaying slightly to an unknown tune that played only in their private world of just them two.

A branch sways too and breaks them out of their reverie when it taps against the French doors that lead out to somewhere else in Harry’s estate.

“I think I’d like to stay here, if that’s alright,” she says, pulling back from him only slightly.

His hands migrate from their embrace around her back and neck and slide to her hip and her shoulder separately. Her hands both rest on his chest and she feels his consistent heartbeat that she had been listening to for the last few minutes against her ear.

His eyes sparkle at her suggestion. “Really? There’s plenty of spots in the main house,” he rushes.

“No, I love this place,” she glances around once more, soaking in the cozy room that housed Harry’s art. “Plus, your family will be here tomorrow and you should all be together under one roof for the holidays. I know how rare that can be.”

He nods in agreement and twists a tendril of her hair around one of his fingers slowly. She doesn’t notice until he makes an experimental and playful tug on it. Her lips purse at the feeling and her eyes narrow.

“You’re an evil little thing under all those layers of niceties and kind words, Mr. Styles,” she says as she pulls away from him.

Now that it was decided on where she would be staying for the next few weeks, she wanted to get her things settled and take a shower possibly. She also needed to check in on Rori and see what he had gotten up to while they had been wandering.

Harry laughs, filled with an unmatched glee as he follows her out of the cottage and back into the main house, “I can show you evil if that’s what you want, dove. I’ll give you anything you want.”

And while she knows he’s saying this in jest, she knows he’s also telling the truth. He’d give her just about anything she wanted, all she had to do was ask.

After settling the house a bit, finding where Rori wanted to sleep - he chose inside the main house, and some showers, she and Harry both felt refreshed.

She walked out of the front door of the cottage and crossed to the French doors at the middle point of the house. They had them open to get fresh air in the house and she walked right through and into the kitchen where she found Harry and her dog happily perched on the countertop.

Rori batted at Harry’s hands and nuzzled into his scratches as Harry cradled him to his chest. It was criminally sweet and she knocked on the door frame to pull Harry’s attention away from her furry friend.

“You look nice,” Harry smiles.

She glances down at her outfit; a cashmere olive colored sweater and high waisted cream corduroys along with her sneakers of choice. She thought it was casual, but she appreciated the compliment nonetheless. She murmurs a thanks and a quick “you too”, she didn’t even need to look at what he was wearing, he always looked good. Her head tilts to rest on the door frame as well, her eyes trained on Harry’s face.

“Do you want to go for a drive?” He inquires as he places Rori back on the ground.

The dog scampers to her side for a moment before running off to do his own thing. Her lips quirk up on the sides and her eyes narrow slightly. He’s looking at her with a quiet confidence set in his jaw that she doesn’t quite understand.

His smile makes her bite her lip, slightly unnerved by the energy he was giving off. Maybe it was because they were completely alone - not something new to them since that’s how they interacted almost solely, but something about being in Italy seemed to have shifted the dynamic. Something in the water or whatever that saying was.

“Do I get to drive?” She stands from her leaning position and crosses in front of him.

His laugh comes out quickly and heartily. “No chance, dove.”

She groans and pushes at his shoulder.

“Trust me, you’ll like it better. Can just enjoy the scenery, don’t have to focus on the road.”

He wraps a hand around her waist and then scoots her towards the door that would lead them out of the house. She giggles at the contact and she feels him watching her. It felt nice, felt simply theirs.

He drove her down the driveway and onto a country road until it merged into a road by the lake. He brought the top down so the wind rushed around them, blustering about as he drove at a quick yet somehow leisurely pace. She glanced at the scenery and took a few pictures, but something else kept demanding her attention.

Harry. He was a quiet kind of handsome in this moment. It wasn’t in your face, it was just how each curve of his skin seemed perfectly placed. Every pore was clear and every mole had a reason. His tattoos peeking from his collar and shirt sleeves were that perfect inky black that remained smooth. It was consistent, the way his hair fell over his forehead and he would smooth it back without even thinking. His eyes were focused and bright, yet slightly stormier than normal. It was beautiful. He was beautiful. And she wondered what she had done to be beside him at that moment. Wondered what it was that she had done to be cared for by Harry.

His hand on her leg brings her out of her mind once again. His looks always seemed to get her lost in thought. He was just that special. No one else had ever caused any similar reaction. His fingers splay on her thigh, no rings on them today. He rubs his thumb back and forth softly and she leans closer to him to whisper in his ear. They were completely alone, but it felt like something even the wind didn’t deserve to hear.

He tilts his head to her, eyes flickering to her movement for a moment and then back to the road. His hand on her thigh slips upwards with how she moves.

“I’m the most lucky girl in the world,” she says, her lips brushing the shell of his ear as she says the words.

She pulls back and stares at him, her hand going down to her thigh to play with his lovingly. He looks at her again and sees her serious expression. This causes him to pull over on the side of the road by the water. He rubs at her thigh again with his thumb and she shifts in her seat.

“And why’s that?” His voice low as he asks and shifts the car into park.

“Because I’m here, with you. And I wouldn’t trade that for anything in this world.”

He hums in response and licks at his lips when her sweater happens to fall off her shoulder. She notices the slip, but doesn’t bother to fix it since she also saw how Harry’s eyes danced over the newly exposed skin.

“I wouldn’t trade this either” the words dance slowly off the tip of his tongue. His accent fuller as he says the last word. “Let’s walk around,” Harry suggests when he sees her eyes flicker between his and his lips.

They explore the grassy area that lives just before the dip of the water at Harry’s request. He guides her along with his hand entwined with hers. Her eyes stay on only him still, the scenery unable to compare to the beauty of him that she was just fully realizing how bad she wanted to be enveloped in. His profile is illuminated by the sun shining above them and she swears he’s sparkling under the light.

The fear of what they were and all of the things that came along with labels were the furthest away thoughts. The man who had been the quirky neighbour had transformed into the man she was pretty sure she was in love with. Too afraid to say those three words, she decided the best thing she could do was to show rather than tell.

“Harry,” she calls and he stops his wandering, turning to face her instead.

A hand reaches up to trace over his strong cheekbone and caresses down the side of his face and cradles his slightly stubbled jaw. Her thumb rubs over the place where his dimple often showed up. He sighs into her touch and says her name back. His voice fails him as he gazes down at her, everything he means to say dies in his throat, for once at a loss for words.

She purses her lips and reaches up to connect their lips, having missed his sweet lips touch. They were meant to press against hers. Harry seems to forget how to breathe, her initiating the kiss between them, something foreign to him, but not unwelcome. He leans down to make it easier on her and she glows in his reciprocation. His hand shifts to cradle the back of her head as the kiss continues. Their lips dance, brushing back and forth, tongues slightly licking into one another’s mouths ever so delicately, playfully even.

A specific clash of teeth as the kiss continues leads to a breathless laugh from her as Harry presses himself closer to her. His other hand pressing her waist safely into him. She happily obliges, sinking one hand to rest over his backside which makes him smile.

“Naughty,” he mumbles against her brightening lips, eyebrows bobbing over his closed eyes.

She laughs now, her head tilting up for a moment, eyes opening to look at his face, yet up so close it's just his eyes and upper cheeks. His eyes are extra large from this angle and the grey green they had been dancing between had merged into a darkening seafoam green that was rather rare for them. She wanted to take an inventory of every color his eyes managed to be, but she was sure the list would never end.

“You like it,” she quips back, a peck sneaked at the corner of his mouth. That little love touch leads to more minutes of making out. Her supple and soft chest against his strong one, hands roaming the other’s body searching for purchase. Soft sighs and gentle moans leave Harry’s mouth when she nibbles at his ear and leaves loving kisses to his neck and collarbone. She makes similar sounds when he laves his tongue over the hollow of her neck and mouths happily on her neck.

The sight of them is two lovers enthralled in each other’s mouths and bodies in a meadow beside a lake. The sounds of nature are only overtaken by their happiness with each other.

When he ruts his hips against her body and she writhes against him with eagerness previously not seen, Harry realizes just how in public they are and he pulls away. A whine of discontent falling from her lips before she can control herself.

“We should…” He falters again, staring down at his neighbour he had begun to want more than anything else in the world, “Should head back.”

“Right,” she nods curtly.

Hands falling back to her sides, but Harry grabs one of them and intertwine their fingers as they had them before. She smiles so wide her eyes crinkle at the corners and he can’t help himself to peck at the left side of her temple.

They drive back to the house and Harry suggests a dip in the pool which Y/N agrees to easily. Something to cool them off from the heavy makeout session they had partaken in down by the water.

“Everyone else is arriving tomorrow,” Harry says after he surfaces from his expert dive into the deep end. He treads water lightly and drifts towards her.

She’s floating on her back a little ways from him. Her hair was shimmery all wet again and the skin of her face glowed with tiny droplets. Her eyes were closed as she moved her hands back and forth through the comfortable water.

She feels his eyes on her, burning into her, waiting for a response. She peaks open one eye and looks at him. His cheeks pinken quickly from the slight embarrassment of being caught, but he doesn’t look away.

“It’s going to be really fun, Harry,” she rights herself and swims closer to him causing him to smile happily. “I’m really happy to be here.”

“It won’t be just us anymore,” he says, swimming backwards and creating a slight chase for her as she follows after him.

She narrows her eyes at his tactics, but still follows as he swims to the edge of the pool where they could both stand.

“Nope, but we’re gonna really get the holiday spirit flowing. Family dinners and games, shopping for gifts...this really is one of my favorite times of the season,” she smiles back at him and puts her hand against the edge of the pool, her chest emerging from beneath the cooling water.

Droplets roll down her chest, racing down her body and in between her cleavage. Harry’s eyes follow the water droplets disappearing beneath her bright red tied bikini top. He gets distracted when the air pebbles her nippls beneath the thin wet fabric, his tongue darts out to wet his lips at the sight. The round of her breast was especially full in the thin fabric. He had never seen this much of her despite their friendship lasting for many months now. It was...mouthwatering and his eyes stayed trained on her breasts as they rhythmically moved up and down with her breathing. It was like a spell.

That he was brought out of when a splash of water flicks at his face. She gives him an obvious look saying she had caught him staring and then she rolls her eyes at his smirk obviously not embarrassed by his latest fixation.

“We won’t be alone like this,” he steps closer to her, his own chest running with water droplets. His hair messy and wet atop his head as he pushes it off his forehead. “Possibly at all for the next three weeks,” he continues and hears her breath catch as he moves even closer. His body hovers a moment away from hers as he stares down at her. His nose almost brushes hers as he starts to lean down. She stays almost completely still. Her head moves though to allow Harry access to where his mouth seems to be headed, the side of her neck.

“After today,” he whispers before smudging an open mouthed kiss just below her ear.

A small gasp escapes her at his hot breath and a searing kiss against her chilled skin. She feels his smirk on her skin as he continues down her neck, leaving spongy eager kisses down the column.

“Well, I don’t think that’s a problem,” she tries to remain composure, feeling the burn inside of her pitch back up. The fire had dulled from the kissing by the lake once they had swam, but here he was pressing into her once again. Suddenly more eager and forward than he had ever been. Her breathing is hard to regulate with his expert hands running along her naked sides below the water and his legs backing her into the edge of the pool while his lips make love to her neck.

“Oh?” Harry hums, moving a hand up to fiddle with a strap of her top, the wet nylon twisting easily and then he lets it snap back softly. Her arousal only grows from the tiny smack. “Not a problem, eh?” His lips travel down between her breasts and she gasps in anticipation.

“Won’t be able to make you feel this good anytime you want,” he breathes and then ghosts over her covered pebbled nipple.

“You’re a tease, Harry,” she grips at his shoulders that are hunched to allow him to kiss on her. Her eyes having the perfect view of his curved neck and spine, the skin an expanse of clear perfect flesh, no tattoos in sight from this angle. The little curls at the nape of his neck trickling with spare droplets as he sucks on her own skin.

“Hmm…” his lips travel back up to the underside of her jaw causing her to tilt her head back and her stimulated chest to press into Harry’s. A chuckle passes against her skin as he feels her two points press into him.

Then, suddenly, he pulls back and grips at the back of her head to make her look at him. His eyes are deep and dark as the day starts to wear on, the sun beginning to set off in the distance.

“Maybe I need to demonstrate just what you’ll be missing out on?” He tilts his head at his suggestion and the glimmer in his eyes shows that he knows exactly what he has to say to get his friend - and soon to be lover - riled up.

Her chest heaves once, longing for the warm touch of Harry’s lips again. “What are you getting at?”

“Wanna make you feel so good you’re begging me to call my family up and tell them to not bother coming because we won’t be leaving your bed for the next few weeks.”

A breathless laugh leaves her, in disbelief, but also in wanton need. Her desire for him grew tenfold in the last ten minutes. His last sentence leaves her itching with longing. For his touch as he promised it.

“Give me the best you got then,” she challenges, her conviction never wavering despite her needy state.

That little sentence is what sets Harry’s eyes ablaze and has him gripping her waist and picking her up and setting her on the edge of the pool.

A quick press of his lips against hers and a “wait here” before he’s pulling himself from the water and shuffling to grab one of the towels he had laid out. She watches him curiously, confused why he had just promised to ravage her but was pausing to towel off.

He comes back with the towel and lays it behind her.

“Harry, what are -”

A finger presses to her swollen lips as his other hand goes to her shoulder and lays her back.

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

She nods, eyes wide and glassy as she stares up at him kneeling over her, his body between her bent knees. He leans down to press another kiss to her lips and then begins his decent.

“Gonna make you feel so fucking good, sweetheart,” he whispers.

Down her throat that he had happily been sucking on. His lips ghost over her still hard nipples and his hot breath has her arching off the ground immediately. A whine leaving her lips when he mouths between her two breasts in the valley just above the tie of suit. His fingers dance around on her skin, playing with her swimsuit fabric and she wants to scream at him to just untie it and really touch her, but she refrains. He continues his assault down her body. His hands grip at her knees when his lips travel below her navel. Her breaths have grown more strained as he’s gotten closer and closer to her heat. The cold wet fabric that covered her was a poor substitute to what she wanted to rub against her.

“Please,” she begs in a sigh as Harry’s lips skip where she wants him, instead traveling to her upper inner thigh.

He spreads her legs wider with his arms and her back arches further, her body just about fully on display for Harry. His eyes flicker up to her face that was staring right back down at him, watching his every move.

The cheeky bottoms left little to the imagination and the ties on the sides were so enticing Harry’s fingers smoothed up her thighs and began to toy with them. His face now hovering over her clothed center. His breath fanning the flames of her arousal just below the cherry fabric.

“See,” he smirks, eyes back on her face, “I haven’t even touched you yet, but you’re already begging.

“You’re an ass,” she grits out, trying to not be bothered by how easily he has gotten her in this position.

He clicks his tongue and tugs experimentally at one of the bottoms ties, “S’not a very nice thing to say to the man who’s about to stick his tongue in ya’?”

She gasps and slaps at his right shoulder at his crudeness. “You’re dirty!”

“And you’re wet,” he says confidently, smirking up from between her legs.

His fingers finally tug the ties undone and pull the fabric away from her center. The red bikini bottom falls limply to the ground and Harry’s eyes train on her glistening mound. Wet with the pool water as well as her arousal. To add to the cool air ghosting over her newly exposed skin, Harry blows his own breath over her. She writhes at the sensation, she bites at her lip to hold back any possible moans.

He glances at her face again and settles one arm to be wrapped around her leg and pressing down on her left hip. His other hand snakes between his face and her body and lightly drags between her folds. She bucks her body again, completely in need of some friction after all of the build up and teasing of today. Every nerve down there was electrified at the possibility of Harry finally touching her like this.

His finger pulls back and a string of arousal clings to him, a testament to the filthy thoughts she had about her neighbour. Thoughts she had pushed away for so long until recently. Thoughts she only indulged in in the dead of night, when she was exhausted but her mind insisted on wandering to the green sharp eyes that might stare at her if he ever were to delve into her depths. Her hands would travel to where he was now and rub out a triumphant shake of her thighs and heaving chest all in hopes that maybe he would bring her to that euphoria himself one day. Well that day was today.

He filthily takes that finger into his mouth and grins. “So wet,” he corrects.

His eyes disappear from view as he launches into his work. His drying curls flop over his forehead and tickle at her lower stomach slightly. He flattens his tongue and licks a strong stripe between her folds. The wet from her weeping hole spreads to her lips and around her clit as his finishes the lick with a little swirl. He uses his free hand to spread apart her lips a little more and takes the new angle to suck on the little puffy nub that is already throbbing. She gasps audibly when he pulls off of it with a squelching sound.

“Fuck,” he sighs and goes back to eating her out, happily pressing his tongue into her.

His hand on her hip travels to grope at one of her breasts and he deftly pulls at the top’s tie and grips onto her skin underneath the fabric. The strong grip mixed with his expert work between her thighs has her moaning loudly and her body writhing as he builds her up.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he rasps, thumb on her nipple flicking happily back and forth. “Scream it out,” he says into her quivering center, “Nobody around to hear you, be as loud as you want.”

She moans louder at his words, her hands gripping harder into his hair. The thought of this scene turns her on even more. In all honesty, if someone did hear them she’d kind of like it. If someone walked in and saw her stretched out next to the pool with their wet bodies writhing against each other in pleasure. Harry’s head buried between her thighs making her feel better than she ever has, her breasts falling out of their top as he massages them harshly.

“Taste so sweet,” he groans, lapping at her tight hole, the muscle contracting against his tongue’s invasion.

She liked how messy he got with it, not that she really had much coherent thoughts in this moment. But his hot tongue swiping up and down and back and forth over her glistening lips and sucking on her clit left her breathless. Her juices and his saliva were making a mess of her thighs and the towel below her. When Harry felt her getting closer he’d back off and pay attention to another part of her and then go back to sucking and nipping perfectly into her.

She was eventually stuttering out, “I’m going to cum, Harry.” Breathing becoming uneven as she was about to tip over the edge. He nods, sucking harder at her clit one last time before taking his tongue and pushing it in and out of her hole, one of his thumbs traveling to rub over her clit in quick succession.

“Cum for me, dove,” he mumbles quickly before going back to making her feel good.

She grips her own nipple now with one hand and Harry’s hair with the other, her hips pushing up into Harry’s face over and over again. And then she’s hitting her climax and tipping over the edge, a moan ripping from her throat and freezing on her face as Harry eats her out through it. His tongue licking over her quivering pussy. His thumb rubbing comforting circles around her clit until she stopped shaking. Her breathing slowing down, eyes fluttering open eventually. They lazily stare at the man below her who’s lips and chin are slick with her juices as he grins up at her.

“Do you want me to call my mum now or wait until you’re fully back on earth,” he says slyly and kisses the inside of her thigh once more. Eyes lovingly staying on her pleasured out face.

“Seriously talking about your mom while you’re still between my thighs,” she breathes out, completely in disbelief. Harry and her had never gone that far before and it was life changing. He had been right, even if she didn’t want to admit it, she wasn’t sure if she could go three weeks without that again.

He sits up and begins to gently pull back on her swim bottoms and tie them back up. She lays there watching him work.

“How about now?” He asks with a smirk, moving to sit beside her and help her sit up when her bottoms have been readjusted. The fabric against her newly sensitive area was definitely interesting, but she couldn’t care with Harry beside her. She ties off her top on her own, even though Harry gestured that he could do it.

“Shut up,” she laughs and takes a hand to caress at his cheek.

He nuzzles into her touch.

“You forget I’m staying in the cottage...separate from everyone else,” she winks at him.

“Think they’ll still be able to hear ya’ from in there, dove. You’re a loud one,” he bites the inside of his cheek as he teases her.

She huffs and drops her hand, “I was gonna return the favor, but now I don’t think so.”

It’s Harry’s turn to laugh and reach out to her face, he pulls her face close to his, bringing her eyes level with his. “I’m just teasing. Plus, you don’t need to return the favor, I’ve been wanting to do that for ages.”

A laugh bubbles from her lips at the thought of Harry wanting her as much as she wanted him and she pecks at his lips. She grimaces only a little, tasting herself on him still.

“We’ll just have to be sneaky,” she pulls back and rests her forehead against his.

“Yeah,” Harry breaths out. His breath hitches when he feels her hand begin to trail down his chest and fiddle with the hem of his shorts. Her eyes are trained on his, expressionless like she wasn’t beginning to palm his hardened length over his sticky swim shorts.

“I told you,” he musters, “You don’t have to.”

“But,” she rasps, finally. “I want to,” she licks her lips with determination, “Want to make you feel good, too.”

He hums as her soft fingers go back up to the hem of his shorts and he helps her pull them down as he gives a nod of approval to her watching eyes.

Her eyes widen when his length is finally revealed and its bright red tip stands tall and strong against Harry’s stomach, placing itself slightly just below one of the ferns. Harry watches her lick at her hand and then places it between his thighs, her body positioned right next to him. On her knees, she makes an experimental first pump, seeing how his body responded. Her eyes mainly watch his face and an open mouthed smirk twitches onto his face when he notices her gaze. She pumps him again, twisting her wrist this time and swiping at the precum leaking from his tip. A groan leaves Harry’s mouth at that and his stomach flexes, the skin beneath his many tattoos hardening.

“Feel good?” She inquires.

“Great,” he breathes out as she leans forward on her knees and attaches her mouth over his head.

She slowly moves her head down and attempts to fit his entire length into her mouth, but despite her best efforts, she can’t quite get her throat to open up for his entirety yet. After holding him there for a moment, his head scratching at the back of her throat, she pulls off. Heaving a sigh and continuing to work him with her hand, her now glassy eyes look at him. Saliva gathers at her mouth and Harry can’t help himself but reach one of his hands from behind him to her lips. He swipes at it and presses the wet to her lips which she sucks at eagerly, a whine hidden beneath the action.

When his hand pulls away she says, “You’re quite girthy.”

“Girthy?” He sputters, both at the funny comment but also that she’s said it while still jacking him off.

“Mhmm,” she nods seriously, “Couldn’t get you all in.”

“That’s alright,” he starts, but falters on a specifically masterful tug. She grins, knowing what she's doing to him. “You seem to excel, no matter the setbacks.”

“I’ll get it eventually,” she begins to speed up her strokes, “Just need a bit of practice.”

Then her lips are pressing back onto Harry’s prick. She sucks solely at his head and Harry moans out as he gets more sensitive. Then she slides down further and bops her head vigorously. She wants Harry to come undone for her just like she had for him. Make him feel like she had moments ago. And within a few more minutes of enthusiastic sucking and pumping of her hands, even some fondling of his balls which Harry had been extremely receptive to, she has him stuttering beneath her.

One hand gripping at her hair, while the other keeps him upright, Harry’s head is thrown back on his shoulders as he tries to keep his eyes open and trained on the girl taking him so well down her lovely little throat.

“I’m almost there, sweetheart,” he pants, his hips bucking up once as he begins to lose control.

This only spurs her forward, spit drooling down his cock every time she pulls back from his slightly. Her ass is high in the air now as she arches over his length, trying to get him to unload.

“Taking me so well,” Harry praises. “Fuck,” he exclaims at another squeeze of his balls.

She swirls her tongue around his runny head and then hollows her cheeks and sucks on him with everything she’s got. This has Harry cursing and repeating her name, his load spurting into her mouth as she stays still. His chest now covered in beads of sweat as he tries to catch his breath after tipping over the edge himself. His eyes are trained on her. She keeps her lips diligently around his cock, wanting to swallow everything he’s just expended. When he’s done, she pulls back and sits on her legs, swallowing quickly and staring at Harry as she does it.

His eyes bug at the sight. She was the hottest woman in the world and she’d just sucked him off so well that he’s pretty sure he saw stars. Then she made eye contact as she swallowed his cum with her pretty little bikini barely covering her anymore, as she seemed to shift slightly uncomfortable in her drying bottoms. God, he was fucked.

“Shit,” he says, still trying to catch his breath. “You’re an absolute angel.”

Harry’s family arrives the next day and the pair have a hard time keeping their hands off of each other. She doesn’t know why they decide to start this little game where they pretend like they don’t want to jump each other’s bones each minute of the day. But as the days go by, they maintain to his family and chosen family that they are only neighbours who became friends. Anne gives a knowing look to Gemma every so often and Gemma’s boyfriend whispers in her ear sometimes, but for the most part they buy it.

No one notices that some nights Harry’s or Y/N’s beds are vacant sometimes. They don’t see him descend his spiral staircase at midnight or see her scamper next to the pool and slip into her cottage in the wee hours of the morning.

In the nights, it’s Harry’s soft lips pressed against her hot skin, panting praise and leaving little bite marks that can’t be seen with clothes on. Her lips mouth at his shoulder when fills her up and she exhales a breath that feels like she’s been waiting to let go for her entire life. They make each other feel good and they don’t talk about it but the secrecy of it makes it all the more enticing.

At least that’s what she thinks. Harry had been completely ready to tell his family about him and Y/N, at least that things were new between them, but when she introduced herself to his mum and Gemma she had said she was a friend. Harry had gulped, his adam’s apple bobbing hard, taking in the change of direction and agreeing with Y/N immediately. “Just a friend” he confirmed with a nod of his head and glance at her. She had smiled wide and given a hug to the other most important women in his life like she’d known them forever.

He didn’t understand why she wanted it this way, but his objections would be forgotten when night fell and she’d do the things he’d only dreamt of. Her breathy whimpers and pliant body would all but wipe his mind of any other thoughts but her and then he had no complaints, just a wish for the night to never end.

Y/N doesn’t even tell Cate when she calls her a week into the trip. It’s just something she wants to keep to herself and Harry. Their own private world.

It’s Christmas Eve when that bubble pops. The Champagne has been flowing for hours non stop - well only stopping when a different drink is in their hands, whether that be red or white wine or a mixed drink Harry has decided to concoct.

In the big Italian house, he’s free of prying eyes and he’s able to truly spend quality time with his loved ones. They have fancy dinners at private restaurants, go on gorgeous hikes, swim, and relax. They have a good time with playing holiday games, which they do most nights when they stay in.

Tonight’s the first night that Harry and Y/N haven’t ended up on the same team. He fears that most times he cheats it by swapping a paper or two, but tonight the alcohol has fizzed his brain and he forgot. This shouldn’t be a problem, not really. Except that everyone in the house has learned over the past week and a half that besides being perfectly matched in almost everything else, Harry and her are both equally and extremely competitive. Being on the same team has both advantages and avoids squabbles like the one the house has found themselves in at half past 11.

Harry’s arguing that his team got the last question before the buzzer went off, but she won’t back down. She is sure that Gemma had said the correct answer, but after the timer had run out. Everyone else was too sauced to care, but Harry and her were adamant and passionate about game play. As the argument heats up, Anne gives Gemma another one of those looks.

Y/N has stood up and crossed the short distance to Harry. She’s a breath away from him and he puffs up his chest, his eyes dark and serious as he’s ready to fight for this win all night.

“The time was out,” she says simply, but her eyes are beginning to glower.

“No. It was not.” He states back.

His eyes narrow at her as she stares right back at him.

“Was too.”

“Was not.”

They go back and forth, rapid fire as the alcohol in their veins flows straight to their mind and hearts.

“Children please!” Gemma exclaims, finally growing tired of the bickering. “It’s Christmas. Harry show some spirit and let your guest have the final say.”

They think she’s done but then adds, “Or else she might never want to come back here.”

Harry exhales harshly through his nose as his gaze flickers to his older sister and listens to her scolding. Handing over the timer to Y/N, which had been what kept them from moving on, he turns on his heel and walks out of the room.

“Oh gosh,” Y/N says after a moment, her frazzled mind processing that Harry’s leaving has something to do with her. A hand goes to her lips for a moment, a ghost of his warm breath still there, but gone too soon.

“I’ll...I’ll be right back,” she confirms and exits the room, following Harry’s footsteps.

She finds him on his front porch step, his breath misting in the cold air, much like it would back in London when they’d walk the neighbourhood streets together.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” she says, placing a hand on his left shoulder to really get his attention.

He turns from looking out at the clear night sky, his nose and cheeks already pinkened from the night breeze. His eyes are still dark out here, but there’s no malice or anger behind them. His lips tilt up on one side for a forgiving half smile, but there’s also some pain mixed in there.

“You wouldn’t not come back, right?” He asks helplessly, his smile faltering.

She swallows, taken aback by the question, both unsure of where it came from but also how exactly her drunk brain was supposed to respond with the double negatives.

“I’d come back next Christmas and the Christmas after that, Harry,” she whispers, “If you wanted me to of course.”

“Of course I’d want you to. I want you, sweetheart. All the time.” His voice isn’t slurred, but it’s raspy, a slight dry mouth from all the alcohol consumed tonight.

“Okay,” she confirms, “Then I’ll come back.”

They stand on the porch silently for a few minutes, eyes on one another, but no movement towards anything. It’s not a profound moment for their hazy minds, despite the meaning behind their words. It’s not quite clicking for them, but maybe tomorrow when they wake up with massive headaches it will register.

“I really am sorry,” she repeats when she sees little goosebumps begin to prick at his skin.

He had forgotten a jacket. And while his drunk blanket makes him immune to the feelings, her brain still registers that she doesn’t want him to get sick.

“S’alright. For what it’s worth, I was being a little childish. So, m’sorry too.” He says sincerely, maybe a little slurring of words slipping in.

He reaches a hand out of his pocket to touch at her upper arm. She can feel his warmth from beneath her thin long sleeve. They smile at one another and turn to reenter the house, feeling the giggly tide of alcohol wash over them again. Euphoria on their mind rather than family game malice.

Just as they’re about to open the door to the house. The two of them at the precipice of a house, a place they often find themselves, Gemma swings it open face and with little care for its heaviness. She glances between her brother and his “friend” and then up to the top of the door.

The top of the door? Why was she looking at the top of the door? Mistletoe.

“Mistletoe!” Gemma exclaims, pointing between the two of them. “You’re beneath the mistletoe, go on!”

Harry shakes his head in protest, falling onto the sword of friendship again. But then Y/N is grabbing at the back of Harry’s neck and pressing her lips to his. It’s a little sloppy, but Harry can’t help but enjoy the taste of her against him. They slot together like they usually do, but this time his sister is watching them, which is a little odd, but his muddled mind quickly forgets that fact. Her tongue is the deciding factor as it licks into his mouth and he licks back, pulling her closer by the waist. They get lost in the kiss and only pull apart when they hear a cough.

Gemma is now accompanied by the rest of the household watching them in disbelief. Everyone’s eyebrows are raised and even Rori is standing with the group, confused that the humans didn’t know they were doing this.

“Erm…” Harry has no idea what to say, shifting to face his family more fully.

Y/N blushes and shrinks into Harry’s chest, feeling like a teenager caught in the closet with her crush.

“That’s not how friend’s kiss one another,” someone murmurs.

There’s a few “I knew it”s mixed in as well with the rest of the chatter.

“Well…” She finally musters and throws a hand out to her side in a ta-da motion,

“Happy Christmas!”

After the revelation on Christmas Eve, everyone won’t stop teasing Harry and Y/N. The two laugh it off but something always nags at the back of their head. What they were to the other person. The status of this relationship. This friendship that had taken a turn to something else entirely.

It’s another Eve of a holiday when Harry finally musters up the courage to ask her directly. They learned from Christmas day that they couldn’t drink as much as they once did for multiple reasons. So on New Year’s Eve, they both choose to only consume a couple glasses of Champagne.

It starts with “Can we talk about us?” right after midnight. Right after Harry’s just started the New Year with her lips on his. She hears his question and takes it in, her stomach twisting with nerves and possibly excitement as well, and nods.

They slink off to his bedroom, but not for the activity everyone else was certain they were engaging in.

He sits them on the edge of the bed, both her hands clasped in one of his. He’s been quiet all day, she just realizes as he stays silent another moment longer.

“I love you,” he says in his dimly lit room.

Her jaw drops slightly, not quite expecting those three words yet.

“You don’t, don’t have to say anything yet. I just wanted you to know that,” he continues. “And that I want to be with you.”

“Harry,” she starts, breathless at his words.

“No,” he stops her again, “I felt something draw me to you the day you moved in across from me on Sherwood, like I was meant to know you or something. Then I met you and you made me feel so comfortable, all I wanted to do was be with you and that month when you didn’t really talk to me...dove, those weeks were wretched. But when I came back, it was like nothing happened and I was so happy because I couldn’t fathom life going back to the way it was before you. When we kissed, I felt overjoyed, I was so happy that you liked me like that because every time you called me friend...felt like a knife in me. I don’t want to be just your friend,” he pauses to say her name again, “I don’t want to be just your lover, I want to be your boyfriend or whatever they call it now - If you’ll have me.”

He takes a deep breath and blinks away the little well up of water that had grown in his eyes. He had forgotten to blink for a moment he realized.

His stare had been intense as he’d confessed all of his feelings to her, but she didn’t feel intimidated, his gaze had warmed her with its sincerity. It had strengthened his confession.

She sighed, her own eyes not as strong as his, unable to hold his gaze as she herself said her own confession.

His hand rests between them on the bed, steadying himself upright with it. She places her own hand over it and their fingers slightly intertwine. She feels him begin to fiddle with her fingers like usual. Like normal.

“Thank you,” she starts, “Of course I’ll have you. All the time, Harry.” She repeats his words from Christmas Eve back to him.

He starts to interject, the rambling thing, but she tugs at his pointer finger and he takes it as a sign to be quiet.

“I want to be your partner, too. I want it all with you, lover,” she gazes at him now, his free hand reaching up to caress her cheek in that moment. “Want it all,” she repeats in a whisper before he’s kissing her again.

Kissing her and kissing her. Over and over again. Because she was his. And he was hers. And it was a happy beginning. A happy new year and a happy new beginning of a relationship that was bound in friendship, born out of proximity, and nurtured by two kindred souls.

And it all started with her parents making her take her dog. Harry really needed to thank that dog for being the best wing man to ever run around on four legs.

Who knows who that new client of Y/N’s might be...

674 notes · View notes

g0ldengubler · 4 years ago

Text

chapter one~one wild night

(*gif made by recsbylotte*)

A/N: I'm so sorry this chapter is so long, but I had to get everything down, I was having too much fun with this concept. Also, please give a listen to the song Nauseous here so you get the full idea of where this story will go and if you like the song, check out Zubin's other songs as well! Highly suggest the song "Backseat" which also has Fantasy Camp! Ok, enjoy :)

Category: Smut

CW: light-ish smut, fingering, alcohol, weed (please smoke responsibly!)

Word Count: 3985

before you read | next chapter

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Great job everyone!" said Aaron Hotchner to his team.

Everyone in the BAU team gave a small round of applause on their jet, but yours was a bit louder than the rest. This was your first case and you worked so hard to solve it with the team to prove that you deserve to be with them. You wanted this job since you were a little girl. Jason Gideon was holding a class on the basics of profiling with his partner, David Rossi, and you and your dad went because you both loved watching 80's crime and law shows like "Murder, She Wrote" and "Matlock", and from the way your eyes would be glued to the tv, he knew that you wanted to be someone like Jessica Fletcher and her friends at Cabot Cove.

At one point, Gideon asked a question and you answered it right away, which took both of them back a bit, including your dad and everyone else in the room. A ten year old girl, understanding what was being said and not getting scared of the pictures that were shown. You were sure some of them thought of you crazy, but your dad was proud.

After the class, THE Jason Gideon and THE David Rossi came up to the two of you to talk. You were totally fangirling a bit because the two people you looked up to wanted to say how shocked but also kind of happy that someone so young was fascinated with this subject. Rossi told you several years later when you went to one of his book signings, that once you were old enough to give him a call and he'd set some things up to get you into the academy, and that's exactly what happened when you turned 21.

Because of your love of solving crime, you worked hard in school. So much so you were one of the top students. College was no different, and Rossi seemed to notice. He kept tabs on you from time to time to see how you were doing after you emailed him about doing well in high school and your first year of college. During your second year, Rossi asked if you could come to the BAU and talk with him and his coworker, Aaron, who was the team leader. They both agreed that you were incredible in your studies and saw a lot of potential in you. Your dream was starting to come true after accepting their invitation to the academy, and you could feel butterflies in your stomach.

Now you were 25, and Hotch had officially welcomed you to the team. As the ride back continued, you remembered how your first day went, even though it was only a few days ago. You met the team, and right away, you befriended the only one closer to your age, Dr.Spencer Reid. You remembered seeing his long hair and cardigan kind of melting together as he sat down at the round table and gave you a small wave. You didn't have many friends growing up, but he reminded you of your only friend back home, but that almost brought you to tears straight away, making you snap out of your daydreams.

You get up to have a glass of water. As your pouring, someone scares you from behind.

"Hey, Y/N!" A man's voice said.

You jumped which made you spill some water all over the place. "Spencer!"

"I am so sorry!" He chuckles as you both grabbed some paper towel to clean the counter, laughing at the incident.

You both go back to your seats, which were right next to each other on the couch. After meeting Spencer on your first day, Rossi told you that you two would get along perfectly. And you did. It made you feel comfortable right away and you pulling a...well, you, you were stuck to him like glue as a safety net. You used to think it was something every newbie did on their first day; try to find someone who you click with and stick with them until you got the ropes. Apparently, that was something people found annoying, and had you fired the first two jobs you got. With Spencer, however, he didn't mind it, which made you feel unsure but happy at the same time.

You and Spencer talked about the similarities you had and laughed at all the nerdy jokes you were making. At one point, another member of the team, Derek Morgan, had to throw a pillow at Spencer because he was laughing so loud and he was trying to sleep, which made even Hotch (who you guessed never even cracked a smile before) laugh a little bit.

"Boys, behave," Jj joked, not even looking up, "Or daddy's going to send you to your rooms when we get home."

"Ok, pLEASE don't say "daddy" ever again unless your at home." said Emily Prentiss, which made everyone laugh even harder.

You could tell that this team was more than just coworkers getting the job done, they were a family. And YOU were invited into this family. This was a feeling you always wanted: friends acting like a family.

30 Minutes Later

Finally you were back at the BAU. The case was stressful, and the flight back kinda made you tired, but your excitement and happiness were taking over rapidly. You usually fought those feelings because you felt emotions differently than others, and it always annoyed the people around you. Tonight was different, so you cut yourself some slack for once.

As you head back to your desks, Hotch spoke. "You guys deserve a break after that case. The heads of the BAU are giving us one month off. Get some rest and enjoy your vacation. Garcia invited us all to her place to celebrate but sadly Rossi and I are going to have to pass tonight. Jack has a big game tomorrow and I don't think the parents would be too pleased if their kid's coaches were hungover."

On cue, Penelope Garcia runs in with her bags. "Oh we're gonna have fun-to-night!"

"What exactly are we doing?" asked Emily.

"It's a surprise silly, but yes there will be alcohol of course." She then turns to you, walking up to go to elevator arm in arm.

"Y/N," she says, rambling to you how the team usually celebrates and what the plan was as you make your way to the elevator, "ok usually we'd go to our favorite restaurant or club or go to rossi's when we can but tonight I really want to celebrate the success on your first case!"

"Aww, Garcia!" you said as Morgan pressed the button, "Your so sweet. Thank you guys, seriously."

"Trust me, Y/N, this night is going to be one of the best nights ever!"

At Garcia’s Morgan sets the alcohol on the counter as everyone settles in. You sit on the couch with Spencer and Emily, getting a good look of Garcia's apartment. Purple walls with shiny (plastic) jewl's, cat toys filled most of the corners. Just as you saw the toys, a black cat jumps onto your lap making you jump a little.

"Aww, Sergio!" said Emily, "Thank you again Garcia for watching him for me while I go on cases."

"Are you kidding me? He's become a lovely roommate at the Garcia Gardens!" says Garcia as she brings over some bottles and glasses. She sets them down and begins to pour the Vodka shots.

"Garcia 'Gardens"? Jj asked.

"They both have G's, I don't know it seemed to work." They both laugh.

Morgan helps Garcia pass out the shots, getting ready for a toast. Everyone stands up, holding theirs shots a few inches away from their face.

"I would like to make a toast," said Garcia, "not just for the success of this case and because we have a month off, but to Y/N. She has done wonders this week, and I am so happy and grateful that you are now apart of our little family. To Y/N!"

"To Y/N!" Everyone cheered as they clinked their shot glasses.

You thought you were about to cry. You've never felt this much love in a room ever.

Everyone took their shots and sat back down. You look over at Spencer and laugh at the face he makes.

"God, I usually don't drink Vodka but that was an experience." he says.

"Oh c'mon," you said, "already gonna pussy out?"

"Now those were fighting words, Pretty Boy!" Morgan chuckled.

"Is that a challenge?" Spencer asks.

"Ok, I'm taking the shot glasses away because I know Spencer can get competitive and I don't want you to get sick." Garcia grabs the glasses from everyone's hand and walks to the kitchen, everyone giving a little whine about it.

"So what was that surprise you had for us?" you ask Garcia.

She walks in her room to grab something and came back with it behind her back.

"Before I say anything," she began, "I'm not forcing anyone to do anything they don't want to do and if no one wants to it's not a big deal."

Garcia takes her hands from behind her back to show what looked like vape pens. "Nicotine?" Emily asked.

"Noooo nonono," said Garcia, "That stuff is not good for anyone. They're weed...pens..." Garcia got quiet. You could understand why she got nervous, who knew if this would happen or not.

"Baby girl," said Morgan, "You are the last person I'd think of for this."

"Her parents were hippies, Morgan!" says Emily.

"Good point." He said.

"But now the question is, how?" you said.

"Well yeah, my parents were hippies. Both of my parents did before they got pregnant with me, but my dad would smoke when I was a kid. He would always do it before bed so he could actually fall asleep. He had horrible insomnia which he gave to me. A couple of months back, I couldn't sleep for the life of me. Nothing was wrong either for it to happen, but nothing could get me to fall asleep or if it did I acted the next day like I got up on the wrong side of the bed. So, I went to a doctor and got my green card and I've had peaceful nights of rest since. I thought, since we don't have to go into work for awhile, why not have some fun for one night?"

Everyone looked at each other, unsure but also kind of wanting to.

"This wouldn't be a problem with work, right?" asked Jj.

"Oh god, no, if we only do it tonight it'd be out of our system by then." said Reid.

Everyone was shocked hearing that coming from his mouth. "What? I had to do a research paper on the study of cannabis use in college."

You wanted to be the first to agree, but then you worried that it would be a bad look on you, the newbie.

"I'll give it a shot," said Emily, "It's only for one night and we have a lot more time off than we usually get, why the hell not?"

Slowly, everyone else agreed, including Spencer, who no one in the room thought in a million years he would. Garcia passes out the pens to everyone and told them how to use it. She said if we liked it, we could keep them for only certain situations where you absolutely needed it.

We all start taking 3 hits, which was the amount she said to take first. She explained how one time she took too many hits at once and greened out really bad.

Garcia turns on some music and we all sit around, drinking the very special drinks she made for us. The girls had vodka cocktails while the guys had whiskey. After a few minutes, you can start feeling it. Your body begins to tingle and your eyes started feeling heavy.

"How ya feeling, kid?" Morgan asks after several minutes. Spencer just sat there, looking at the ice cubes in his drink.

"Honestly, I've never felt this before. I don't know what I feel but it's nothing bad."

You giggle at his answer. It wasn't funny, and you knew that. Maybe you were giggling because seeing Spencer high was adorable.

"Ope, we have a giggler!" said Emily, but your giggling made everyone else giggle with you.

"Boy genius, you are too adorable!" said Garcia, who was sitting on Morgan's lap, her head on his shoulder.

You take more hits as the night goes on. At one point you had to stop because you were really baked. You've smoked before, so you knew your limit. You look over at Spencer again, but this time he was really sinked in the couch, looking up at the ceiling. What could that big brain be thinking in that now empty skull?

You were about to ask him but Garcia got up and grabbed an empty vodka bottle. "Who wants to play truth or dare?"

Everyone said they were in, except for Jj, who was already passed out in her chair.

"Damn, gone already?" Spencer says.

"You owe me five bucks tomorrow, Y/N" said Morgan. Earlier, you bet Morgan that Jj would stay up because he said she wouldn't. She tried her hardest, but sadly Morgan won. You move your head to Spencer's lap. You felt very cuddly for some reason, and Spencer was right next to you. He flinched a little, but then after a minute he started playing with your hair.

Garcia puts the empty bottle on the table and spins it. It lands on Emily. "Truth." she says.

"Have you ever made out with a girl?" asked Garcia.

"Are you kidding? Of course I have," she got quiet then murmured, "And I loved it."

"I knew it!" said Garcia.

Emily spins and it lands on Morgan. "Dare."

"I dare you to give Garcia a kiss! No making out, just a peck on the lips."

It happened, their banter had finally caught up with them. Derek and Penelope go in for the peck and once so they blushed.

Spencer was still playing with his hair. You looked up at him and saw something in his eye. Not literally, but there was something going on in his head. His eyes sparkled underneath the apartment lights. His mind must've been running all over the place thinking of something trippy, or maybe he suddenly wasn't thinking at all, letting his mind wonder to thoughts he never thought of before. The bottle was rarely spun to either of you, so you decided to talk softly.

"What are you thinking about, Spence?" you ask.

"I'm thinking about everything and nothing at once," he said, "It's hard to explain, like I'm thinking of things I wouldn't normally. Or at least not on a daily basis."

"What is tha-"

"Y/N! Truth or Dare?" said Garcia

"Umm...dare." you slurred. Were you really that fucked up right now?

Garcia thought for a moment, then as she looked at the two of you, a light bulb lit up in her head. "I dare you to take Spencer to my room, shut the door, and make out for 10 minutes!"

"10?!"

"What, are we still in high school?" you ask sarcastically.

"Be glad I didn't suggest 7 minutes in heaven. Poor boy is just so innocent!"

"Can you even get up, Pretty Boy?" Morgan asks as you lift your head from his lap and start to get up.

Spencer takes another vodka shot and a few more hits of his pen before getting up. After gaining his balance back, you take his hand and walk him to the bedroom. He shuts the door behind him and goes to lay on the bed. Arms stretched out on either side of him, he went back to staring at the ceiling.

"Wanna tell me what you're thinking about now?" you asked.

He said nothing. You then lay next to him, doing exactly what he was doing. Garcia had put glow in the dark stars all over the ceiling. They looked brighter than they would've have been to you. Your blurry vision made your tingles more intense as the lights played with your eyes. It was almost really trippy, but you felt so good.

"I've never felt like this before and usually we put people away because of weed, but for some reason, I feel at peace with everything.

"I'm sure if you got your green card, Hotch would be more understanding towards it. If not, Penelope would've been kicked off the team."

He placed his hand softly on your thigh. Spencer, you thought to yourself, she didn't say it was 7 minutes in heaven.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," you said, "We can just ramble about anything and tell them we did."

He then gets on top of you, holding your wrists down to the bed. "No, I want to. Unless you don't want to, but this is what I've been thinking about when I was playing with your hair."

You nod your head. You knew what he meant because you were thinking the exact same thing at that same time. When you met him, you didn't think of him in that way. But once everything kicked in that night, you felt yourself slipping into that 'what if'. You thought he was cute when he was giggling at you, and the way his fingers were in your hair, it was like you'd known each other for years.

Spencer's lips were quickly on yours. It felt like heaven, like he had done this before. You kiss him back, indulging in the sweet bliss. It was your time to return the favor, as you run your fingers through his hair. You were into guys with long hair, and Spencer seemed to fit the bill. But in no way were you catching feelings for him. He'll probably not remember this night at all, so why get your hopes up when he's doing this for the dare.

Suddenly, you felt his right grip let go of your wrist and slowly began to go down your body. It made you feel heat from the bottom of your stomach. You haven't felt like this in a long time, needing for someone's touch. You felt ready though, ready for that feeling again. The feeling of letting go and go forward in lust. He stopped, however, letting you know that he was asking if you wanted to continue without breaking away from your lips. You nod and a small quiet moan left your muffled lips, letting him know it was ok.

His hand continued to go down your body, feeling every curve he could. His fingers gently graced your tits and it sent shivers up your spine. Soon enough, you felt his fingers lightly rub the fabric that stood between him and your slit. His touch was so feather like you thought he was teasing you just to get you all worked up.

"I've hardly done anything to you and you're already so wet for me." He said through the kiss. You were shocked how his tone changed from sweet and innocent to dark and low. It kind of turned you on. Somehow, you went from being dared to just make out to what felt like was going into 7 minutes in heaven, except not in a closet.

He then continued to rub the fabric is circles as he broke the kiss. With the moon being your only source of light, you see the hunger in his eyes. He wants you and he wants you bad. He smiles as he moves the fabric over to the side and sticks his middle finger inside you, making you gasp at the entrance. His grin grew bigger as he really felt how wet you really were.

He sticks another finger in there and you let out a moan that you were trying to be soft about, but you were louder than you wanted to be. Spencer quickly covered your mouth with his hand, continuing to pleasure you. "Be quiet, angel," He whispered in your ear, "You don't want the others to know what we're doing, do you?" You shook your head. "Good girl, now tell me when you're close. I want you to cum all over my fingers."

You never thought of Spencer as the dominate type. He seemed so to himself and sweet. You thought he'd be more submissive. Maybe it was his cross faded brain talking, but this side of Spencer made you want more of him. You wanted so much more than his fingers. Your thoughts clouded you as you were reaching your climax.

"Spencer I'm close. I'm so close!" You quietly moaned.

"Hold it, angel. I want you to beg for me."

You couldn't hold it in anymore. "Please let me cum, PLEASE!" You begged.

"Cum for me, angel."

At that, you felt your whole body tense up and almost screamed at the pleasure, but knew to just whisper it and breathe heavily. He laughed with a bit of a growl, feeling you on all over his fingers. He was enjoying this, and you could tell by the tent in his pants. You wondered if you were going to help him out with that as your breathing began to go back to it's normal pattern. He gets off of you as the timer went off, and he stuck his fingers in his mouth, tasting yourself.

"Ok lovebirds, time's up!" you heard Morgan say.

You sit up from the bed as Spencer sat next to you. "We'll be right out!" You said, "Holy shit, Spence. I didn't think you had this side to you."

"Everyone does," he said, "I know I pull off this small and meak kind of person, but they don't know what I think about when I'm at home. Even sometimes at work when I'm stressed on a case. I'll just give myself a breather and let my mind wonder. I even-"

He stopped himself in his tracks, taking back what he was originally going to say. He stood up, pulling you up with him. Your faces were then really close together. "Now, tonight I won't have you touch me. We'll save that for another day ok?" You nod again. "What are you going to do about 'that'?" Pointing to the tent.

"I'm gonna take care of it in the bathroom. Now, we don't tell anyone about this. Especially Garcia."

"Yeah, it'd be a bit weird if she found out that you fingered me on her bed."

"Well that, and the fact that she can't keep a secret to herself for the life of her."

"Good to know." you said.

You did as planned and walked out, going your different ways. You headed back to the living room and joined the rest of your coworkers. You sat there and took more hits and more shots, hoping to pass out. You couldn't help but want to let your thoughts wonder on its own.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid #dr spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #mgg #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #fan fiction #spencer reid fic #dr reid #spencer x y/n #spencer reid x y/n

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haik-choo · 4 years ago

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bokuto as your boyfriend

request: The type of lover fic is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever read 🥺 could I request relationship headcanons with bokuto?

a/n: AH thank you for loving it!!! i like writing those types of things whenever im in a mood to write but not write *seriously*! and yes i LOVE bokuto he’s such a HIMBO my BABY GOD -- also i’m trying a different layout for hcs! i think i like my old ones better than making a separate header for each character but,,,,we shall see

[bokuto boyfriend headcanons]

-bokuto, obviously

the most hyperactive lover ever -- one second he’s at the other side of the room waving wildly at you, and the next second he’s next to you and squeezing the life out of you

is the type of boyfriend that honestly needs a lot of affection/attention, he can deal with a lover who’s not as affectionate as he is, but then he’ll need words of affirmation instead -- he just likes to be told and showed that he is wanted and loed

i know it may not seem that way -- but i think that he can get really lonely sometimes. he’s fine by himself, but when he’s with people, he’s much happier

especially you, he loves to be around, because even if you don’t talk at all, your presence makes him feel calm and happy -- just knowing you are there with him because you want to be

drops by wherever you work randomly just to bring you lunch or say hi and that he’s missed you. your coworkers are lowkey jealous of you and your amazing relationship

asks you to come to every single one of his games, and if you don’t he gets all sulky. usually you show up in the stands with a huge ‘bokuto kotaro kick their ASSES’ sign

but when you don’t show up at all he’ll be really sad, even if you already told him you wouldn’t be able to go. but just tell him when he gets home that you watched it on your phone -- and he’ll perk up

when your back is facing him, he’ll come up behind you and wrap his big beefy bokuto arms around you and snuggle his face into your neck and inhale your scent -- you complain because he always lifts you off the ground, but he won’t stop

when he gets back late from practice and you’re in bed, he’ll just drop his duffel by the bed and fall on top of you

“boKUTO ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME? YOU ARE LITERALLY 6′1 AND B U I L T”

“:((( so no cuddles?”

“....come here you himbo oaf”

his cuddles are the BEST -- he wraps his arms around your back and pulls your face into his chest and nuzzles his face in your hair before releasing a huge breath and kissing the top of your head, i --

he loves it when you grab his face and pull him to your lips, the feeling of your fingers pulling him towards you -- to him, it shows how much you want him to be around you, and how much you love him

he doesn’t usally notice the small things you do on a daily basis for him )like making him tea or smth like that), but he will notice IMMEDIATELY if you deviate from your routine

like say you always check your emails before you get out of bed, and one day you just don’t -- he’ll notice that and he like “what’s wrong? do your eyes hurt? there’s eyedrops in the medicine cabinet”

bokuto is extremely emotionally intelligent -- trust me. he can tell when you’re uncomfortable or when you’re stressed, or when you need a pick-me-up, he can even tell when your boss yells at you because you wear a certain expression when that old geezer does

fights w/ bokuto are short-lived, mostly because he hates yelling and he hates when you’re mad at him

but when it does happen -- bokuto can be loud. but that’s it, he doesn’t bang his fists on the counter, he just rests his head in his hands, or he’ll do extra practice to release steam. but he’s loud, his voice just booms, and he isn’t really aware of it

but he is aware of how your face scrunches when his voice gets past a certain point, and that’s usually when the fight stops and he takes you in his arms and apologizes or softly talks to you

fortunately, fights are rare, because bokuto is very aware of your emotions and where you stand on things -- he doesn’t mind letting a problem taking a backseat temporarily if it means it can be solves peacefully later, when you or him aren’t in a bad mood

relationships with bokuto are strong and nearly unbreakable because his willingness to grow and change with the person; bokuto doesn’t fall in love easily, so when he falls for someone, he falls forever

bokuto gets infatuated easily, this is true -- but love isn’t just infatuation. love is an acceptance of the other’s flaws, it’s a feeling that lays deep in the heart, it’s unconditional support for the other

bokuto knows he loves you, and he will for as long as he lives. a relationship with bokuto is a once-in-a-lifetime thing, no matter what happens, he will remember you

,,,

in conclusion please just love this himbo and he’ll love you unconditionally back

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyū!!#haikyuu!! fluff #bokuto kotaro #bokuto #bokuto fluff #bokuto kotaro fluff #bokuto headcanons #haikyuu bokuto #bokuto x reader #bokuto x reader fluff #bokuto imagines #haikyuu fukurodani #haikyuu boys #haikyuu headcanons

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sorryjustafangirl · 4 years ago

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mascot mysteries

a/n: me posting something that isn’t at like midnight? wow. anyway i thought this was a super cute idea so i hope you all enjoy it :) this is also a gender neutral reader! and this is a covid-free AU

Pairing: Nolan Patrick x reader

Word Count: 1.8k

warnings: a few couple words, a little bit of anxious movements, Gritty (if that needs to be a warning)

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and real person fiction if you don’t like that, please don’t read! also the gif isn’t mine! all credit to the incredible gif-maker!

tagging: @barzypatty

You walked into the Wells Fargo Center, admiring the arena. This was your dream job ever since college. Honestly you couldn’t believe you got it. You pull out your phone with the emailed instructions of where to go. You look for the “hallway next to the washroom” only to discover there are three different hallways that have signs directing to the washrooms.

Well fuck.

“Are you good there?” You look to your left to see two guys, likely players based on their attire. One was taller, with longer hair and a small smile. The other one was shorter but looked more rambunctious. It looked like there were in a little bit of a rush, but you were really lost.

“I’m actually kind of lost. I’m looking for conference room B8? But the instructions I have are really vague, so I have, like, no idea where I’m going,” you admitted, folding into yourself a little bit.

“That’s on our way! Come with us, we’ll show you where it is,” the shorter one said, motioning you over to where the two of them had stopped. “So, you’ve never been here?”

“It’s actually my first day on the job, so, um no. I haven’t been here before either, I, uh, grew up in Canada,” You cursed yourself. This was your first impression with the organization and you couldn’t even make a conversation without the stammering.

“Cool! Me and Patty are from Canada too! Shit, sorry, I’m TK and that’s Patty,” He said, motioning to the taller guy beside him. “And don’t worry about getting lost, Pats here got lost on his first day too,”

“Good to know I’m not the only one whose bad with directions,” you directed your comment to Patty, making brief eye contact with him. A rosy blush brushed his cheeks and you caught a mumbled “yeah”

“What do you do….?” Patty prompted, his voice quiet, but somehow you still heard it. He couldn’t deny you were pretty.

“Oh, sorry, I’m Y/N. And I’m in media? I don’t know my exact title, but working for one of the best marketed media teams was too good for me to, uh, turn down so…” You said, slightly talking in front of TK so you could answer Patty’s question.

“Oh cool! Maybe you’ll get to meet Gritty, he’s the fun residence troublemaker,” Travis popped in.

“I thought that was your job Teeks,” which earned a jab from TK into Patty, who just snickered.

“Travis, bud!” The three of you stopped to see someone else motioning for TK, who jogged over to the other man.

“C’mon, the conference room isn’t too much further, I’ll walk you there,” Patty said, already making some steps forward. After a small comfortable silence, he stopped in front of two double doors. “So, uh, this is it. Good luck on your first day,”

“Oh! Thanks. And, um, thanks for showing me where it was,” You tugged down on your jacket. “I guess I’ll just….” you motioned behind you to the doors.

“Oh right, yeah, I’ll, uh, let you go,” You gave a small wave and turned towards the conference doors and he turned back to go where he came from, only to turn around after a few steps. “Hey Y/N?”

“Yeah?” You took a few steps back towards him.

“You’re in media, yeah? So you might be at games or maybe even practices?” He scratched the back of his neck, slightly mumbling towards the end.

“Uh, yeah maybe. I’m not too sure where they’ll put me just yet but I like being in the action. I know that might seem weird ‘cause I’m sorta shy and quiet but..” You wrung your hands together.

“No, no, I get it. It’s like being a different person, when you’re behind the camera or something. You get to be someone else and it’s nice. I get like that on the ice sometimes. I can make the big hits and stuff and no one treats it like it’s different from being quiet outside the game,”

“Yeah, like a different person. That’s exactly it,” You met his eyes again. Holy shit, why is he so gorgeous?

“Y/N Y/L/N?” A head popped out from behind the conference room doors. “We’re ready for you,”

“Great, thank you,” You turned back to Patty. “That’s, uh, that’s me, but I’ll hopefully see you around, Patty?”

“I’d like that a lot. And uh, you can call me Nolan,” The blush came back to his cheeks but you could barely notice over the heat in your own cheeks.

“Bye Nolan.” You gave him one last smile before entering the conference room and closing the door, slowing entering the room. Once you came into sight, the people around the table jumped up.

“Ah! There they are! Our new Gritty!”

***

After that first encounter, you seemed to bump into Nolan more. Before work, sometimes after work. You would make casual conversation, both mumbling, but you just got each other. And it didn’t take too long for him to muster up the courage to ask you on a date. While you were slightly hesitant, he was quick to assure you that “I may have asked G to ask management if it’d be okay with our jobs and, uh, everything’s fine, so…?” which earned him a kiss on the cheek and a yes.

The problem was your job. You loved being a mascot. Seriously, you did. You were hooked after that first varsity game you went to in college. The energy of the crowd, interacting with the players and fans, the anonymity. The anonymity was the issue. Behind the costume, no one knew it was shy ol’ you. You could do anything and no one would tell you that you were being too rowdy or obnoxious. No one expected anything out of you except fun. It was perfect. And being Philadelphia’s beloved mascot/political figure was the dream. Telling Nolan risked the anonymity of the job. But to not tell Nolan was becoming an issue. He understood you had to work during game days, but it was becoming increasingly difficult not to see you with the other better halves in the stands, especially since you worked here. There was no reason for you not to be there. Every other teammate of his got to see someone they loved in their jersey but he didn’t.

When he brings this up, all timid, you are so quick to make a compromise. Before every home game, you’d meet in the tunnel for a good luck handshake. It might seem ridiculous but he got to physically see you before each game and it was a fun, quirky ritual.

“It’s like a different person right? You get in your zone and I’ll get in mine,” You told him. He responded with a kiss.

But you were running out of excuses why you were late either before your handshake or after his game, where you would also meet him in the tunnel. You had used the “I caught up with work” at least four times, “I saw a coworker who wanted to talk” a few times, and even resorted to “I got lost” once. You could see it was throwing him off a little. He was still playing perfectly fine, but it didn’t have that same “umph” he sometimes brought to the ice.

It was the home game against the Penguins when he finally snapped. That’s how you knew it was bad. Gritty was asked to do the fun pre-show, and you hadn’t had time to change to see Nolan before the game. He threw more hits, had more aggression, and more than the normal Pennsylvania rivalry. You couldn’t help but think that part of it was because you didn’t show up before the game. He’d even gotten in a fight with Tanev early in the second period.

So, during the intermission between the second and third, you asked your team to lead you down to the tunnel and grab Nolan out of the dressing room. The Flyers were up 3-0 so you didn’t think it’s be a huge issue with Coach.

He quietly exited the room, confused on why he got pulled out. A member of your team just gestured to you in your costume, which did little to clear up his confusion. You held your hand up in a fist for a fist bump, the first move in your handshake. When he still gave that bewildered look, you softly grabbed his gloved hand and pushed it against yours. When you lifted your hand up for a high five, he still needed some prompting. But when the down low high five came, you started to see the gears in his head turning. He gave a small chuckle and slowly worked through your handshake, ending with a pinky promise and a kiss to your respective thumbs. When you’ve finished, he just gives you that small side smile and shakes his head, with a chuckle.

You can hear the boys getting hyped up in the dressing room, and then the buzzer goes, so you break away from Nolan, but stay in the tunnel. As the boys single-file pass you, you give them each a boop on the head, with some extra love given to Nolan.

That third period, Nolan seems to have his “umph” back. An assist and a goal, and he celebrated both by glancing up to you, celebrating as per usual with the fans, especially after his goal.

After the game, you go and have your own shower, all sweaty after the 5-0 Pennsylvania battle. You took your time, knowing you’d have to have a semi-serious conversation with Nolan. But when you join him in the tunnel, he’s all smiles. He wraps you in a hug, spinning you around, before setting you on the ground and nuzzling into your neck. You run your fingers through his own freshly washed hair. The two of you stand there for a bit before he mumbles into your neck, barely audible.

“Like another person, eh?” You smiled and tucked your head into his chest.

“Oh shut up, I don’t even know if you’re allowed to know.” A hearty laugh escaped him.

“Secret’s safe with me, babe,” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and kissed the top of your head as you started to make your way out of the arena. “Fuckin’ Gritty, I can’t believe it. I thought you were ignoring me,”

“I’m sorry, Nols. It’s just a lot to take in. Didn’t want to scare you off,”

“Well, I’m sticking around if that’s alright with you.” You looked up at him, and his cheeks started to redden, and not just from the game.

“Yeah. That’s alright with me,” You leaned into the crook of his shoulder, glad you didn’t have to hide any part of yourself from Nolan anymore.

Bonus: “Did you ever actually punch a kid?”

“Oh my gosh, I’m not answering that,”

“It’s a valid question babe! I’m not going to stop you, I just wanna know,”

feel free to let me know what you think! thanks for reading

#nolan patrick #nolan patrick imagine #nolan patrick fic #philadephia flyers fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl x reader #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nolpatty #abby writes

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marshmallow-phd · 4 years ago

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Scarlet Moon

Genre: Scarlet Heart Ryeo!AU, Time Travel!AU, Alternate History, Royalty!AU

Pairing: OC x EXO OT9

Summary: This isn’t Gwen’s time. She was from the modern era, with technology and electricity. But during a solar eclipse, she’s transported back into a previous life in a time and place she does not know. Now, as the foreign daughter of a merchant living in a prince’s household, she must tread carefully, watch her back, and guard her heart. But with the princes locked in a battle over the throne, the chances of her making it out alive might disappear.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3

********

The paper sliced across the skin before any action could be taken to avoid it. A high pitched hiss followed by a short whine. The flap of skin that had been separated was being dyed red.

Gwen stuck her index finger in her mouth to sooth the stinging. It helped a little bit. Still sucking on the appendage, Gwen stumbled over to the supply closet and opened the thin metal doors with the other hand. She kept this feat up as she opened the first aid kit and pushed around the different types of bandages, trying to decide which one to use. The cut was right on the tip, right where you never want it to be. It was hard to get a band aid on that kind of cut. Eventually, she found a smaller version of a standard design and ripped the paper covering opening. She wrapped the band aid around her index finger before heading for her desk. It was back to the files that had injured her in the first place.

The pile was tall; by her standards, at least. Gwen had been dealing with it for the past hour. The dates on the files needed sorting, separating the ones could be sent to long-term storage. She almost gave out another whine, but she didn’t want the others to hear and start the relentless teasing. Her coworkers were quick and very witty.

It was a friendly floor. Everyone joked and played around without the fear of feelings being hurt. If Gwen didn’t have to do the actual work that came with the office space, she wouldn’t mind staying here forever. But dealing with these files and demanding customers and meeting quotas was not what she wanted to do for the rest of her life. Not that Gwen knew exactly what it was that she did want to do. She’d tried a lot of things over the last few years in her slow going college years. Marketing, history, education - hell, she even took several makeup courses and skincare lessons that focused on natural resources. None of it stuck, none of it held her interest, though the information could be recalled if needed.

“You alright there, Gwen?”

Drudging up from the bowels of her thoughts, Gwen looked up at Kimberly, who had stopped at her desk on the way back from the printer.

“Yeah,” Gwen nodded with a sigh. “Just… ready for the week to be over.”

“Ain’t that the consensus,” Kimberly laughed.

“How are the dogs?” Gwen was seizing the opportunity to distract herself from work. Kimberly owned two dogs with opposite personalities. One was the well-mannered older brother, the other was the skittish, hyper younger brother. She loved to talk about them and there was never a shortage of entertaining stories.

Kimberly rolled her eyes. “Kurt is back to back to demanding his breakfast at five a.m. Oh, but Kent now does this thing where he walks backwards. Whenever he starts doing that, we’ll beep at him. You know, like the garbage trucks? Then he gets all shy and hides his head.”

Gwen couldn’t stop giggling at the thought. “Oh, the poor thing!”

“You’ll have to see it next time you come over.”

“I can’t wait.”

As Kimberly walked away, Gwen sighed. She didn’t get out too much and the humor that most of her socializing outside of work was with one of her coworkers wasn’t lost on her. Just another dart to throw at the board that was Gwen Sinclair.

It wasn’t like her life was a complete disaster. Really, it could have been worse. She could imagine a thousand different scenarios that she could be living right now that were worse off then her current situation. Truthfully, if glanced at from the outside, Gwen’s life was simply... mediocre. She was blessed with tolerable roommates, an okay job that provided a nice paycheck for a twenty-three-year-old who had yet to finish college. But… the loneliness was killing her and overall, she was craving for something more.

She was exhausted from obligation and responsibility. She wished to go back to the days where she read about adventure and intrigue and imagined some day living that out herself. After having those words in her hands, she felt empty in her reality. Somehow, each day felt even more draining.

With the end of another workday, Gwen packed up the files that still needed to be sorted, locked up her cabinets and tugged on her coat as she waved goodbye to Kimberly and the others. A few other coworkers were chatting excitedly about the solar eclipse happening in a few minutes. Gwen, however, was annoyed. Annoyed at the fact that all anyone - online or in person - could talk about was the solar eclipse, as if it was the only one that had ever been seen in this generation. When one person mentioned the eclipse, it was fine. When it was every post and every comment and every conversation, it felt a little ridiculous. Gwen couldn’t care less about the event. Getting home was her current priority. But escaping wasn’t that easy.

For the millionth time, Gwen rolled her eyes as she scrolled through the newsfeed, waiting for her car to warm up in the parking garage. The weather was cold and dreary, slowing down her progress on getting home. Puffs of steam escaped her lips in the below freezing temperature. Other employees hurried past the back of her car to get to their own tiny sanctuaries. An alert for a new email popped up at the top of the phone screen. From the quick scan of the notification, she saw that it was from her eastern history professor. He wanted to go over the latest paper from class. Oh, no. That was never a good sign.

Gwen huffed, threw her car into reverse, and pulled out of the parking space. First the papercut, now this.

Since all her classes were online, Gwen had the minor luxury to not be forced to talk to her professor face to face, which surely would have been humiliating. But it couldn’t be avoided completely. She’d email him back once she arrived home. Or maybe she’d put it off until tomorrow. Dealing with this was the last thing she wanted to do. Stress was already causing her skin to revert back to puberty, she didn’t need this as well.

Her phone rang and she struggled to answer it while carefully winding down the levels of the garage. It was Jaynie, the favorite of the roommates.

“Hey, Janie, what’s up?”

“Oh, nothing, I was just wondering if you were coming straight home today.”

Gwen smirked, knowing exactly where this was going.

Over the past several months, a bit of an obsession had developed with Korean dramas. The shows the two of them consumed were different from the same old, boring American television and there were years worth of stories to choose from. Currently, they were in the middle of another romantic comedy. While Gwen loved the storyline and was in a constant state of swoon, as soon as the credits started rolling, she was reminded how pathetically uninteresting her life was. But those sixty plus minutes of pure escapism made it all worth the crash that came afterwards.

Gwen tried to wait patiently in the line to leave the parking garage, but her frustration was getting the better of her. It was stop and go, stop and go, stop and go.

“I’m planning on it. That is, if people decide any day now to not drive idiotically.”

“Ugh, I had the same problem on my way home.”

Curious. Both of them worked in the downtown area. “How did you get home so fast?” Gwen asked.

“I got off a little early today.”

“Lucky.” Her accounting job often led to flexible hours. Gwen was jealous of that level of freedom.

The road was slick from the freezing rain. Weather like this brought out all the stupid drivers as if this wasn’t a yearly occurrence. She was careful to look both ways before exiting the garage and inching into the street. What she didn’t account for was the other emptying lot across the street. A large black SUV pulled out right at the same time, but went too fast, hitting the water that was slowly turning to ice on the asphalt.

With no time to react, the SUV slammed into the side of Gwen’s compact car. Glass from the driver’s side window shattered and sprayed her face. Her phone flew out of her hand. The crunch of metal hit her ears before she could fully process what had happened. With the force of the collision, her forehead slammed against the steering wheel before the airbag deployed. The sound of screams echoed around her, but the words were unintelligible. Slumped over in her seat, a shadow creeped over the scene. Through the slits of her barely open eyes, Gwen watched as the sun disappeared behind the moon. Then all went black.

********

The water was what brought her back. It filled her lungs and surrounded her on all sides. She flailed her limbs, desperate for traction that couldn’t be found. Her clothing weighed her down, the hems being pulled as if hands had gripped tight on them. She needed a miracle. And a miracle she got. Two hands held onto one of her wrists and pulled her to the surface.

She gasped for air as her rescuer struggled to bring her to shore. The cloth that covered her felt as if it weighed a hundred pounds, making it nearly impossible to move. Water made its way up her throat, spilling over her lips. Her lungs were finally clear. They took in as much oxygen as they were allowed, burning with each brath.

“Lady Gwen! Lady Gwen!”

A young girl blocked out the bright sun. She shook Gwen’s shoulders desperately.

Gwen’s brain processed that the girl was not speaking English, but… she could understand her. The girl’s damp, dark hair was pulled into halves on either side of her face held in place by wide red straps. She looked at Gwen with deep concern, like a lifelong friend. But Gwen was sure she had never seen this girl before in her life.

“My Lady, can you hear me?” she asked frantically.

“Who are you?” Gwen finally choked out.

That made the girl pause in her panic. “What?”

Slowly regaining her strength, Gwen pushed herself up to her knees. As her eyesight cleared, she took in her surroundings. Gone were the tall metal and glass buildings, traffic lights, and speeding cars of her modern home. Now all that surrounded her were trees and a sandy beach of a large, calm lake. In the distance, wooden houses with curved rooftops, painted in bright reds and greens dotted the horizon. The heaviness that weighed her down was a dress made of too many layers and of no western fashion that she’d ever experienced before.

Whispers bounced around the rocky shore. All the faces that were looking on with concern around were unfamiliar. Gwen grabbed the hair cascading down her back, but it was still the red she knew, darker from the dampness of being pulled out of the water but still her hair.

“Where am I?” she asked in a quiet, gasping voice.

“My Lady, don’t you remember?” The girl panicked. “You’re in Songak. Goryeo.”

“Goryeo?” Gwen screeched. All the minor details she could summon up of the country came rushing to the forefront of her mind. It was information overload and her brain couldn’t handle it. Her lungs tried desperately to keep up, breathing in as much air as they could, but her throat was closing up from the panic. The landscape blurred and she fell to the ground.

********

She was in a bed this time when she regained consciousness. The room was cold and dimly lit with soft, orange candlelight. A man, Caucasian unlike the others, sat beside the bed on a stool, worry etched into every facet of his face.

“Gwen, sweet, are you all right?”

English. He was speaking English. But that was a footnote of comfort to the bigger problem. She still didn’t know what had happened to her or how she got here or who these people were that seemed to know her. The man, who was about in his mid-forties with salt and pepper hair, smiled down at her, though his eyes were confused. “Gwen, does it hurt anywhere? Can you tell me if you hit your head?”

Gwen took a moment, to calm down and to evaluate what she was feeling physically. Her head didn’t hurt, nor did any other part of her body. Wordlessly, she shook her head. The man seemed relieved.

“Are you all right?” He asked again, a different meaning under the question this time. “Chae Ryung said you couldn’t remember her or that we were in Goryeo? Do you at least remember your papa?”

Gwen weighed the choices in her mind. There wasn’t a mirror around, but she started to wonder if she had taken the place of someone else. Someone who knew these strangers. She could say that she didn’t know any of them - the truth - but would they think her mad if she spilled too much? Perhaps she could say she remembered a few things. Like him, if he is this poor girl’s father. Why am I here? In this time?

Choosing to comprise with herself, she gave the smallest of nods. “Papa.” Sitting up, she pulled him into a hug and there was something comforting about his embrace. This body remembered him, at least.

“What happened?” she asked after she let go.

“Chae Ryung said that you’d wandered off again and she found you, you’d been the water a long time.” The man, Papa, sucked in a breath, his eyes beginning to water. His genuine concern over her wellbeing made Gwen choke up as well. “The doctor said you stopped breathing. That could explain your lost memories.”

Good. The excuse was already in her hands. That should make it easy enough to play along while being forgiven for any missteps. But they shouldn’t be in Goryeo. That didn’t make any sense, historically. If anything, they might have been in Joseon – late Joseon. Was this some sort of alternate timeline? Or maybe she hit her head really hard in the car crash and this is really all a dream from the stress of her paper and too much K-drama.

Yes. Too much K-drama.

That had to be the explanation. This was all a strange dream. Which meant, she could play along and not be afraid. She could ask questions and live out the day until she woke back up in her own time, most likely in a hospital with a bandage on her head and her mother fretting over her.

She glanced around the room, taking in the architecture that she had only ever seen in pictures. In person, it was even more stunning and intricate. This wasn’t an ordinary citizen’s home. Interesting. What else could her brain come up with? “Why are we in Goryeo?”

“Your father’s a merchant, remember?” He spoke slowly. Each word was deliberate, giving Gwen time to process. Good filler for her mind. “I made a large fortune here and planned on taking you back home, but… your mother is buried here. We couldn’t leave her behind.”

A wave of emotion hit out of nowhere. Though her mother was alive and well, it didn’t stop a tear from escaping. “Mama.”

Papa wiped it away with a coarse finger. Gwen gasped back, surprised by the realness of the touch. Her dreams were never this intricate. The blanket strone across her lap scrunched in her fingers. It was cold and soft… and very real.

She wasn't dreaming, was she?

Confused by her reaction, Papa paused for a moment before continuing his explanation. “The eighth prince is graciously letting us stay with him while we wait on the construction of our home to be complete.”

The eighth prince?

Panic grew tenfold. If this wasn’t a dream, then she was in very big trouble. If history told her one thing, it was that proximity to royalty was the most dangerous place to be. Gwen might possibly have been able to skate by if they were simply staying in some unknown village far from the capital, but they were in a prince’s home. Which meant they were in… Songak, the capital city, just like that girl – Chae Ryung – had said. Right under the King’s nose. Breathing became difficult again. Each one was shallow, barely letting in any oxygen. Gwen could feel her chest tighten and her vision blurred.

“Gwen!” Papa jumped up and tried to keep her straight to give her lungs as much room as possible. He switched to Korean as he called out over his shoulder, “Someone, get the doctor! Now!” Shuffling sounds echoed off the floor on the other side of the sliding door and then faded away.

A minute later, breathing no better, two men and a woman rushed inside along with Chae Ryung. The older man stepped in front of Papa and took his place. He pushed Gwen’s shoulders gently until she was lying down. Two cold fingers against her wrist checked her pulse. The other, much younger man stepped up to Papa.

“What happened?”

Papa frowned. “It seems she’s lost some of her memories. I was explaining why we were here when suddenly she had trouble breathing.” He stopped, struggling with his own breath. “I’m sorry we’ve become a burden to you, Your Highness.”

Gwen’s breathing was regaining strength and she was able to concentrate on the conversation. So that was the eighth prince. He was younger than she would have guessed, handsome even, if she had to focus on something other than her lack of breath.

“Do not think such a thing,” the Eighth Prince replied. “Your presence has greatly improved the household. Lady Gwen will get better with time.”

Papa bowed, obviously grateful at the response. He turned to the woman. “Lady Hae, may I enquire after your own health?”

“Today is a better day,” she smiled, though her pale, drained complexion said otherwise. “Please, don’t worry about me. Keep your thoughts for your daughter.”

The doctor released Gwen’s wrist, satisfied with the improvement of her pulse and breathing. He stood up.

“It was a mild panic attack,” the doctor said calmly to Papa. “If it happens again, she should lie down and focus on her breathing. The incident at the lake seems to have taken a toll on her body. She simply needs rest. In time, her memories and her body will recover.”

Gwen didn’t agree with that statement fully. This body might get better in time, but there was no way memories that didn’t exist would ever return. One by one, the occupants left the room until it was only Gwen and Papa remaining behind. Silence hung in the air. After a moment, Papa sat down on the stool and took Gwen’s hand.

“I was worried I had lost you,” he whispered.

Gwen’s eyes fell down to the blanket covering her legs. Things were becoming clearer to her now. This was not a dream and she was no longer Gwen Sinclair from the twenty-first century. Something must have happened. She didn’t know what exactly had occurred or what would happen now, but she was here. And little did this man – known only to her as “Papa” – know that he had indeed lost his daughter. The face may be the same, but the Gwen inside was different. She would try her best to be good to him, at least until she found a way to get back to her own family. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

********

The next morning, the doctor, along with the Eighth Prince, came back to check on Gwen. The doctor commented that her pulse was stronger and that she seemed well on the road to full health. However, he still insisted on keeping her on bedrest.

Bored with these same walls and too curious about her temporary home, Gwen sat up. If she was going to be here for a while, she might as well get to know it. “I’m fine. Please, don’t make me stay in here all day. The sun and air is good for you, isn’t it?”

The sudden rebelliousness against the doctor’s suggestion did not seem to sit well with any of them. Gwen gave Papa a pleading look. A father couldn’t resist those eyes. He sighed, turning to the doctor. “Perhaps, a little exercise in walking around the grounds would be all right?”

The doctor looked reluctant, but he agreed. “But she shouldn’t overexert herself.”

“Chae Ryung will stay with her,” the Eighth prince ordered. “If you’ll please excuse me, I must meet with my brothers.” He bowed and left, followed by the doctor.

Having heard her name from the hallway, Chae Ryung shuffled quickly inside and over to Gwen, holding out her arms for the latter to balance on as she slid off of the bed. “Are you sure you want to go outside?”

Gwen nodded. “Yes. Perhaps seeing more of this place will help jog my memory.”

Chae Ryung tilted her head. “How can your memory jog?”

Gwen snorted, both at Chae Ryung’s confusion and at herself for the slip of the modern phrase. “Sorry, I just meant, maybe my memories will come back.”

“Oh.” The look on her face was enough to make Gwen laugh again.

Gwen scolded herself internally. She had to be more careful with her words. Every step was one on thin ice. She couldn’t change who she was, not completely, but she would have to pull back. Chae Ryung, however, felt safe, like a shelter from the rain. With her, Gwen could find answers that might be dangerous to seek elsewhere. Straightening her shoulders, Gwen smiled broadly and took her newest friend’s hand. Chase Ryung grinned brightly at her and guided her out of the room.

#exo royalty au #exo royalty!au #scarlet heart au #scarlet heart ryeo #exo time travel au #exo time travel!au #exo angst #exo series #exo x oc #exo x original character #exo ot9 #Scarlet Moon

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ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa · 4 years ago

Text

With Cherries On Top

Chapter 2: The Proposal & The Deal

Summary/Author's Notes: Oh.my.god. the response from part one was fucking WILD. I love you guys so so so much! As always, dedicated to @rae-gar-targaryen. She’s had a bad week, yall, go show her some love. <3 ITS WHAT MAX WOULD DO.

Max explains himself and gets down on one knee to ask the big question. Your trust is tested as he tries to pull a fast one, but he makes you an offer you cannot refuse.

Pairing: Max Phillips x Reader (The Proposal AU) Word Count: 3.3k Warnings: Language, flirting, SEXUAL TENSION, Max Phillips is a bastard man, vampire themes

Chapters [1] [MASTERLIST]

Max finally caught up with you and convinced you to go with him to the immigration office. The entire cab ride across town you were seething. Neither of you spoke, and when the cab parked in front of the Federal Plaza building you got out. Glad to leave him to pay for the cab and top it off with slamming the car door in his face. You heard him growl his frustration but didn’t stop as you stormed into the building and he had to jog to keep up.

"Will you slow down?" He snarled and you ignored him.

How could he be this egregiously shameful? You knew Max was cunning. That he would do anything to make the sale, to close a deal, but this--this was a whole other level, even for him.

In hushed tones, in his office, as you threw your items in your purse, he had explained that he was being deported. That the government had caught him in a technicality of his after-life status versus his human one, and although you agreed it seemed to be a petty place to draw the line, his way of kicking you into the fire with him made you not want to help. Did he deserve to be sent back to Romania? Probably not. But forcing you into marriage? Or an even better term for it would be forcing you into fraud. The two of you were breaking the law and he didn’t even have the balls to ask you first.

The immigration office was jammed packed with multiple lines of people waiting for a free attendant and dozens of others waiting in chairs, looking over reading material and playing on their phones. This was going to take forever. Apparently, Max had other plans, as he grabbed your hand and pulled you both to the front of the line. No one stopped him, no one questioned him as you tried to make your face as apologetic as possible to the people already in line that were giving you dirty looks. He asked for the fiancee visa application and the next thing you knew the two of you were being led into a cramped office in the back and looking over the desk at a very stoic, older, government worker.

“Sorry about the wait, folks,” the older man said as he pulled out a file folder filled with papers. “Busy day.”

“Of course, of course,” Max nodded, crossing his ankle over his knee and giving the man his best smile. “We appreciate you meeting with us on such short notice.”

The older man looked Max up and down slowly and smirked--whatever Max was selling, he wasn’t buying and the realization made you want to lean over the chair and vomit on the floor. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Okay, so, I only have one question for you,” he continued to smirk as he closed your file and steepled his fingers in front of him. “Are you both committing fraud, in order to keep Mr. Phillips here from being deported back to Romania and losing his position as CFO at his company?”

“What!”

“Ridiculous!”

Max and you both scoffed at the same time and shook your heads as you waved your hands in front of you and he rolled his eyes, giving a good-hearted laugh.

“Mr.--�� Max looked at the nameplate on the desk as he leaned forward and addressed the man. “Yates. That is an absurd assumption. We are just a couple that want to get married and I assure you, our case will be the easiest one you have all day. So, just tell us what we need to sign and we can get out of your hair.”

You wished more than anything you had the courage to grip Max’s leg and beg him to shut up. His normal bullshit was not going to get either of you any favors with this man and if he didn’t tread carefully, you both were about to be in a world of trouble. You knew you wouldn't last in jail, but Max really wouldn't last in jail. That mouth that never seemed to stop talking would get him stabbed...wait, maybe jail was a good idea after all.

"What makes you think we're lying, Mr. Yates?" You asked, crossing your ankles and moving your legs to the side comfortably.

"A tip that came in this afternoon from a concerned citizen--"

"His name wouldn't happen to be Evan, would it?" Max asked.

"As a matter of fact, it is."

"I knew it. He is nothing more than a very disgruntled employee who is out to get me." Max shook his head and waved it away as if that discredited the tip. "I fired him this morning."

The other man scribbled down a couple of notes and went back to pressing his fingertips together and leaning his elbows on the desk. He heaved a large sigh and suddenly looked very tired.

“Here’s what’s going to happen next, you two. I am going to schedule you an interview for next week. I am going to put you both in separate rooms. I am going to ask you a series of questions that real couples would know all of the answers to.” He said the term ‘real’ in a pointed way and looked directly at you, making your stomach fall to your feet. “And that’s the easy part--”

“Okay, seems fair.” Max started, but Mr. Yates ignored him.

“Then I am going to dig deeper. I’m going to check your phone records, your emails, talk to your friends and family--your coworkers. If anything, and I mean anything, seems out of order or does not match your story, you,” he pointed to Max. “Will be deported to Romania indefinitely. And you, young lady,” he turned and pointed to you. “Will be fined two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars with a minimum five year sentence in federal prison.”

You swallowed so hard it hurt as you felt your vision narrow, your body threatening you with the idea of passing out. You felt like you were sitting inside a vacuum, like a larger entity had sucked all of the air out of the already too small office space.

Prison. It wasn’t enough that you had been at his beck and call for the last five years. If this all went sideways, Max Phillips, in a last act of extreme selfishness was going to get you sent to prison.

“So, that being said, Ms. (y/l/n),” he smiled and crossed his arms as he addressed you. “Do you want to talk to me? Tell me what’s really going on here.”

“What’s really going on--” you started, your heart hammering in your ears so loudly that you were sure Mr. Yates could hear it.

You looked at Max and thoughtp about how you wanted to do this. Could you really throw him under the bus and let them ship him away from his home? Could you match his heartlessness and protect yourself above all else? No. Despite how much he deserved it, that wasn’t how you operated. He had insisted on dragging you into this mess and now it seemed, at least for the time being, you were going to have to play along. He looked at you with those soft, coffee colored eyes, so full of anticipation that you almost groaned. Instead you reached over the arm of his chair and patted his leg.

“What’s really going on is that Max and I are getting married,” you squeezed his knee and saw him give a full body sigh of relief out of the corner of your eye. “We just couldn’t tell anyone.”

“And why not?”

“Because he’s a vampire,” you shrugged. “And we were worried how my family would take it.”

“I see,” Mr. Yates leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms waiting for you to continue.

“And--” you, glanced at Max and back. “Because of the promotion.”

“Promotion?”

Both Max and the older man said at the same time and you steeled your resolve and continued.

“Yes, I am in line for a big promotion, and both of us felt if our relationship went public before that it would look unprofessional. Right, honey?” You looked at Max and although you were smiling, your eyes dared him to say otherwise.

“That’s...right, dear.” He nodded, putting his hand over yours on his knee.

Mr. Yates looked at the both of you for what felt like a very long time. You kept your smile even for so long, your cheeks started to ache. The hand you had on Max’s thigh offered a small amount of comfort and you allowed it to ground you, to center your mind as you did your best to look like the definition of truthfulness.

“Well,” he sighed and opened up a filing cabinet and pulled a very large binder full of papers for the two of you. “If that’s the story you’re sticking to. Here are the questions you could be asked, there are about three hundred of them--along with all of the forms that need to be filled out, references we will need, and copies of your identifications. As well as,” he paused and looked pointedly at the both of you. “The marriage certificate.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly as you leaned forward and took the binder from him.

“Have either one of you told your families about this, happy little arrangement?” he asked as he gestured between the two of you.

Max laughed and shook his head. “No, my parents are dead. Only child, too. It’s a real shame.”

Mr. Yates, chuckled dryly, not understanding how such information could be considered funny. “And what about you, Ms. (L/n)? Are all of your relatives dead as well?”

“Mine?” you put a hand to your chest. “No, no, they are alive--”

“We were actually going to tell them the news this weekend,” Max chimed in and you looked at him in surprise. “It’s grandma’s 85th birthday--we thought it would be a nice surprise.”

You stared at him like he had grown a second head. How did he know about your grandmother’s birthday? The idea that Max paid more attention to you than you thought was sitting uneasily in your stomach, but you continued to smile and nodded in agreement.

“We’re flying up to, (y/n)’s parents house.” Max took the binder as you handed it to him.

“And where is that?”

“Alaska.” You said simply, crossing your legs and adjusting the hem of your pencil skirt, reveling in the way Max’s entire face fell.

“Ah-ah-las-kah?" Max stuttered and glared at you. "Alaska." He cleared his throat and repeated.

You returned his intense look of malice with an overly satisfied smile. It felt good to ruffle those feathers, to catch him off guard and see him out of his element.

“Well, I wish you both a safe trip,” Mr. Yates stood up to show you the door and the both of you mirrored him. “I’ll call to schedule your visa interview after what I’m sure will be a lovely week.”

Leaving the federal office felt like you were walking in slow motion. You vaguely heard Max put his bluetooth on his ear and take a call, letting his boisterous voice echo in the too loud, too crowded lobby. Going out onto the street and feeling the cool air on your skin didn’t make breathing any easier as you thought about what just happened. In your trance you almost dropped the heavy glass door on Max’s face.

He hung up the call and started talking like everything was just a normal day back at the office, like the two of you hadn’t just been threatened with the American government absolutely ruining your lives.

“Okay, sweetheart,” he said as he put his sunglasses on to protect him against the already very overcast autumn sky. “What’s going to happen is we are going to run up to your parent’s place, act like we’re boyfriend and girlfriend--we can stay in a hotel and that will make it easier to fake. Make sure you use the miles for the tickets--”

“Max…”

“I will pay to have you fly first class, but only, and I mean only if you use the miles. If I don’t get rewards, then we aren’t going.” He pulled his sleeve up slightly and looked at his watch. “Also, please confirm they offer vampire accommodations, because I swear if they put me next to some old hag like last time and I have to smell her O-positive, diabetic, dustiness for six hours--I’m. Going. To. Lose. It.”

“Max--”

He stopped as he realized he had walked quite a ways in front of you and he turned around. “Why aren’t you taking notes?”

Your jaw dropped and you stomped over to him and shoved the binder against his chest with enough force that he stumbled back a step. “I’m sorry! Were you not in that room with me just now? Were you not fucking listening??” You were almost screaming and he looked around quickly before stepping closer and towering over you.

“You look crazy, calm down--”

“Calm down? You have some neve, Max. Some. Fucking. Nerve.” With each word you poked your manicured finger into the middle of his chest, on top of his stupid, yellow tie. He grabbed your wrist to stop you but you yanked out of his grip. “Don’t touch me.”

“Listen,” he took a breath and spoke to you like the ticking time bomb that you were. “You did well back there. That thing about the promotion? That was genius. He really bought that.”

Evan’s words rang back through your head and you took a step back looking at Max. He's never going to promote you. You know that, right? Five years. For five years you had done everything for him. You had done the work of an executive level salesman and made a secretary's salary. And for what? To constantly be missing out on important things in your life? Friends. Family. Dating. You couldn't remember the last time you had actually been on a date with anyone. Everything seemed to revolve around the man in front of you--and you had reached your limit. All of this was asking too much of you.

When you finally spoke, your voice was flat and even. “I meant it. I want that promotion.”

“To what? Evan’s job?” He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“I’m the one that is facing a two hundred and fifty thousand dollar fine, and jail time--that changes things. I want Evan’s old job and a thirty percent raise.” You crossed your arms and planted your feet as you held his gaze.

Max moved his bottom jaw from one side to the other, a tick you had often seen and come to realize meant he was mulling over his options. “Fifteen.”

“Forty.” You counter offered the wrong way and he gave a hard bark of laughter. “Okay, fine. I’m walking. You’re screwed. Goodbye, Max--have fun in Romania.”

No sooner did you turn around did Max lunge forward and grab you by the upper arm. “Okay! Okay. Fine.”

“Fine?”

He looked at you pointedly and pulled you into the front of his body. His eyes shimmered for a brief moment and his lips turned upward into a small grin. “Unless--you’ll take something else? Plus, ten percent of course, I’m not a monster.”

You felt as if a small breeze was whispering against the nape of your neck, and you fought the urge to bat at it like a fly. The press of his voice worked its way into your ear and you could almost feel it trying to go deeper. When you realized what he was doing, you gasped and slapped him across the face. “Did you just try and hypnotize me??”

“Ah, shit!” he released your arm and put his hand to his cheek. “Did it not work?!”

“Go to hell, Max!” You turned once again and started walking down the sidewalk, ignoring the faces of the people that were nosily watching your heated exchange.

“Why the fuck didn’t it work--” he mumbled, continuing to rub his cheek and coming to his senses once he saw you putting more distance between the two of you. “Hey!” He jogged quickly and passed you easily in your high heels, turning around so he could look you in the eye. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean it. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Typical,” you scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“I can’t do this without you,” he held his hands up defensively and gave you an almost pleading look. “I’ll give you the promotion, and the raise. If I’m not at that company, they will get rid of you like that,” he snapped his fingers and you clenched your jaw. “I don’t want to go back to Romania. I didn’t have such a good trip the last time.” He smiled way too large, an action more for the purpose of pulling back his lips so he could gesture to his fangs. “So, will you do this?”

"I have a few conditions."

"Name them."

"We do this my way, and on my terms. This is my family that we are lying to, so we will tell them when I want, and how I want."

"Done. Next?"

"How did you know it was my grandmother's birthday?"

"You think I can't hear every time your family calls and begs you to quit? Even without superhuman hearing--you sit right next to my office." He made a gesture of his hand pantomiming a small distance.

"Fine."

"Fine." You both said one right after the other in shared stubbornness and mutual disdain. "Anything else?"

You crossed your arms under your breasts slowly and straightened your shoulders. “Ask me nicely.”

“Ask you what? I just--”

“Ask me to marry you.”

Max paused and leaned back a bit, rubbing a hand down his face and chuckling like your request was unbelievable. “Uh. Fine. Fine.” He nodded and cleared his throat. “Will you marry me?”

“Like you mean it,” you insisted. “On your knees.”

He gaped at you like a fish out of water. His large hand rubbed the back of his neck as he looked around embarrassed by the idea that any of the hundreds of people on the street could see what he was about to do. He looked at the ground to make sure there wasn't anything obviously sticky lurking on the pavement before slowly getting down on one knee.

"There. Happy?" He gestured to himself and you nodded.

"Oh, extremely."

He sighed and bit his tongue with what he really wanted to say as he looked up at you from his spot on the ground. "So, will you marry me?"

"I believe I said, ask me nicely. Sales. Is. Seduction. Right, Max?" You clenched your fists and brought them into your chest, mimicking his speech from earlier in a most obnoxious way. "Seduce me, then. Really sell it."

Max blew a heavy sigh in the form of a loud raspberry and cracked his neck. He shook out his arms in a dramatic display like he was getting ready to perform and finally looked up at you. His expression was genuine enough. His eyes were warm and his smile small, and he even took your hand and held it out in front of him lightly.

"Sweetheart--(y/n), beautiful, intelligent, decadent, sexy, vibrant--"

"Enough." You said with a frown. "Remember, I'm a person, not a dessert."

He continued as if you hadn't interrupted his string of praise. "Will you please, with cherries on top, marry me?"

You tapped your chin in mock contemplation and gave a single nod. "Okay. Yes. Although I don't appreciate the sarcasm." You let go of his hand and let it fall to his side as you adjusted your purse on your shoulder. "Get me a ring. If we break the news to my mother and there's no ring, she will go bezerk."

"Fair enough."

"See you at the airport, Max."

You walked passed him without another word, leaving the most powerful man you had ever met on his knees in the middle of the New York street.

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#max phillips #bloodsucking bastards #max phillips x reader #pedro pascal #pedro character fic #with cherries on top #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #max phillips x you #the proposal

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bluemusickid · 4 years ago

Text

Breezeblocks

Pairing: law student! Andy Barber x Professor! Reader

Warnings: eventual smut, 18+, angst, age gap (not much, also legal)

Word Count: 881

A/N: And so continues my love for female characters in control. I got this idea at 2 AM and leaped outta bed just to type some part of this lmao. This is my first series (of sorts) so please be gentle! Feedback is appreciated. :) Also, I haven’t made a taglist or anything as of yet, but please lemme know if you wish to be tagged ^_^.

Chapter 1

The alarm clock beeped, rudely rousing you out of your peaceful slumber. Great. And so begins my misery.

It wasn’t easy being a soon-to-be divorcee. Getting a house had been hard, especially since your savings were frugal at best, but getting a job at a firm, in a new city, had been tougher. You had hoped that your resume would get you some job at least. Sure, you weren’t always at the top of the class, or had enough recommendations from your professors like those ass kissers from your year, but hey, it was good enough for a small firm. But no, instead, you had to teach Criminal Law to college students. Everyone knew that college students were the toughest to teach, after high school students.

Oh well. You gotta earn your stripes, you muttered, checking yourself in the mirror. Years of being married had changed you. You realised that the wrinkles had become deeper, a constant reminder of how stressful that last year had been. Getting a fresh start was the best thing, you felt, at the time. Now? Not so much.

Sighing, you grabbed your tote bag and made your way to the car, dreading every second.

Parking your car, you got out and looked at the main building in the campus. Welcome to your future, for the next year or so. Grabbing your stuff, you made your way to the dean’s office for your briefing, checking your phone for the email which had all the details.

Damn it. Where the bloody hell was Room 105?! Shouldn’t there be signs or something?!

You had to begrudgingly accept that you were lost and needed help in this goddamn maze. Hesitantly, you stopped a man walking towards you.

“Excuse me, do you know where Room 105 is?” you asked, faltering a little after you saw how cute the guy was. He had the most beautiful blue eyes you’d ever seen.

“Oh yeah, just take a left up ahead and walk straight, it’ll be on your left.” he replied with a smile. Damn, he’s gorgeous.

“Great, thank you so much!”

You rushed to the Dean’s office, your thoughts drifting to the gorgeous man with his beautiful eyes. Beautiful eyes? What? You were here to do a job, not to ogle at some people, especially not at people who could be your coworkers! Focus, Adriana. You have a goal, and this was the only way attain it.

You reached the Dean’s office with just moments to spare, walking up to the desk of who you guessed was her assistant. Greeting her, you informed her about your meeting with the Dean. She checked her computer and told you to take a seat, the Dean was on a call and would be with you in a moment.

Setting yourself on a chair, your mind drifted off. Would you have taken up a teaching job had you still been married? No. Never. James had been quite dismissive of the idea of lawyers who had taken up teaching jobs. Why would you give up the big bucks to teach some twentysomething know-it-alls? he would say.

You closed your eyes, exasperated. You hoped he wasn’t right, especially about the know-it-all part.

Interrupting your train of thought, the secretary, Miss Stevens, called your name out. Making your way into the office, you knocked on the door, your nerves threatening to get in the way.

“Come in!”

Upon entering, you noticed a middle-aged woman sitting at the desk, sifting through what seemed like a deposition, making notes.

“Mrs. Gupta?” you ask awkwardly.

She looked up, giving you a warm smile.

“Hello there! You must be Ms. Lee. Please, take a seat.”

“Oh please, call me Adriana.”

“That’s a lovely name. Well, Adriana, welcome to New England Law. I trust you’ve moved here recently?”

“Yes, it’s just been two weeks or so.”

“Well, you’ll fit in here and become a part of our family in no time, I’m sure.”

You quickly settled into some more small talk, and she handed you your schedule for the semester, explaining the marking schemes and teaching aids. You took it all in, slightly overwhelmed with the sheer volume of work.

“That’s pretty much all of the ground covered. I won’t keep you any longer, I see that your first class starts in 15 minutes. Best of luck with your class, and keep a watch out for the new ones. They’re a perspicacious lot.” she said, with a smile.

You smiled wanly, exiting the office and marching your way to Room 115, all the new information whirling in your brain and making you slightly dizzy.

Entering the room, you saw that there were still a few minutes to go for class to start, so you decided to get all your things ready. Laying out your notes on the table, you turned to the board and started jotting down a few points. You heard the students shuffling in, the sound of desks being moved and general chattering reaching you.

Bracing yourself, you turned around to see a bunch of eyes staring at you. And among them, were those gorgeous eyes. His eyes. That gorgeous man, or rather boy, was not a coworker. He was a student.

He was your student. For the rest of the year.

FUCK.

A/N 2: I’m posting this before I second guess myself and delete the whole thing. Feedback is welcome, and needed. :)

@donutloverxo @chris-evans-indian-fanfic

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lalainajanes · 4 years ago

Note

17 + 43 for the prompts!! so happy to see that you're accepting prompts

Okay, these are from a list I reblogged awhile back thinking writing would be done (but then 2020 decided do continue to be 2020 - aka a series of awful awfulness). I’ve missed writing and I’m getting back into the habit so I decided to finish up a short-ish thing that was already in progress.

#17 was meeting at a party whilst drunk au and #43 was falling in love with their best friend’s partner au. But I didn’t get to drunk and I’m cheating a little bit with the definition of partner – my brain is an angst free zone these days!

That Perfect Stranger

As much as Caroline hates surprises, she does take a certain amount of joy in surprising other people. When she’d gotten an invite to Bonnie Bennett’s 50th birthday party, she’d immediately started investigating flights to New Orleans.

She hadn’t RSVP’d. Rude? Probably. Caroline had rationalized that, based on the invites (champagne cardstock embossed with a shimmer so subtle it had to be stupidly expensive), whoever was throwing the party wouldn’t skimp on food or drink, so an extra person wouldn’t be an issue.

It’s been about ten years since she’d last seen Bonnie, and she’s never visited Bon’s adopted home town.

Weaving her way through the thick crowds on the streets, carried along by the music and the energy, Caroline’s kicking herself for not making the trip sooner. She has a general idea of where she’s going, has the address memorized, but she’s content to take a meandering route.

That might be the slight buzz she already has going – either the drinks from the bars here are really heavy on the booze, or there’s something in them designed to affect vampires. She’s getting a few appreciative leers in her short metallic dress, but given the vast array of attire on display – from ratty jeans, to sparkly costumes, to the tiniest club skirts – she doesn’t feel out of place.

She might have to stay a few extra days and do some exploring.

Caroline’s not entirely sure how her oldest friend had ended up in New Orleans. They’d reconnected long after Bonnie had made the move. Bonnie’s never been one to brag though Caroline’s heard whispers from other acquaintances. Something about evil witches coming back from the dead, mortal danger, a showdown of supernatural species, then Bonnie showing up to kick ass and take names.

At the time, Caroline had still been committed to pretending to be human. She’d fled Mystic Falls when it became clear that far too many people wanted to kill her, had hitchhiked across a few states before her cash had run out in Chicago.

Luckily, she’d mastered compulsion easily. Chicago was home to all sorts of easy marks – business bros who genuinely thought hitting on a seventeen-year-old girl was a thing they should be doing. Typically, such a man’s only redeeming quality, which Caroline had been happy to take advantage of, was the lack of a limit to how much money he could withdraw from the ATM at once. It had taken a little trial and error, but she’d mastered feeding enough to sustain herself without leaving a pile of bodies behind.

She’d built up a nice little nest egg, had even gotten her first college degree. She’d optimistically sent her parent’s an invite to her graduation. Her mother hadn’t shown; her dad had. He’d just been armed with a stake and a jug of vervain.

After that, Caroline had given up on blending in.

She’d been flitting around the globe for about a decade when Bonnie had found Caroline on Instagram and sent a DM. At first, Caroline had been leery about another trap. Bonnie hadn’t been too thrilled to make Caroline a daylight ring, and she’d kept her old email address for years, hadn’t heard a peep from anyone she’d grown up with. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she’d replied.

Stilted text conversations got longer, more fluid. Eventually, they’d progressed to phone calls. Caroline had carefully planned their first meeting, in a city where she had connections and witches were thin on the ground.

They’d had some hard conversations on that trip. Ended up spending way too much time ugly crying indoors, considering they’d been in freaking Porto in June. They’ve made up for it in the years since.

Caroline sidesteps a pack of probable frat boys – cute, she notes idly, probably tasty – twists her head a bit to make eye contact (she’s not hungry now, but who knows how the night will go). She smiles, a little flirty, only to stop abruptly as the noise disappears as if someone had pressed the pause button.

She can still see the street behind her, jam-packed with people and lit up by streetlights and neon bar signs. In front of her, however, it’s quiet. Still. Caroline jumps when a throat clears, her head whipping around to see a man in a white tux who definitely hadn’t been there before. “What the crap?” she squeaks, fangs dropping.

His face remains smooth, not even a hint of shock or fear evident. He’s blandly handsome, nonthreatening, but she’s learned not to trust outer appearances. “Miss Caroline Forbes, correct? You’re here for Miss Bennett’s birthday?”

Warily, Caroline nods.

White tux smiles, friendly now, “Excellent; she’ll be pleased you’ve made it. Can I see you inside?”

His head tips, and Caroline almost jumps when a stone staircase freaking shimmers into view. White Tux pretends he hadn’t noticed her shock, jogging up the steps. He pulls a gleaming door open. It lacks a doorknob, is instead marked with half a shiny M (probably real gold, she decides).

He waits patiently while Caroline makes her way up the steps. She’s careful, given the fact that they’d appeared magically. Between her high heels and her short skirt, even her vampire reflexes won’t save her from humiliation should she take a fall. When she’s at the top, she peers inside curiously.

She hears music again, the clink of glasses. Laughter. “Do you need to see my invite?”

Caroline’s got it in her purse, but the man shakes his head. “Not necessary. You wouldn’t have seen me if you weren’t on the guest list. Welcome to The Abattoir. I hope you have a pleasant evening.”

“Thank you,” Caroline murmurs, biting back her questions about the impressive magic this place obviously holds. No need to seem like a total yokel if she’s wrong, and cloaking gigantic buildings in the middle of a busy city is in every witch’s bag of tricks.

The lights are low, and most flat surfaces are covered in candles, lending a warm glow that bounces off ornate framed paintings and crystal chandeliers. The click of her heels is lost under the sounds of the party, louder now that she’s crossed the threshold. She follows the noise easily, walks through a set of double doors into a packed ballroom.

Caroline lifts on her toes, scanning the room, notes the party spilling out the far side, where several sets of French doors open onto what looks like expansive grounds. “Well,” she mutters, snatching a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, “Bon, you’ve been keeping some secrets.”

“I have not,” Bonnie says, and Caroline whirls, narrowly managing to avoid tipping her glass.

“Bonnie!” she squeals, shifting forward and throwing an arm around Bon’s shoulders. “Great dress.” It’s teal and short, with dramatic sleeves and a deep neckline, just a tiny bit witchy.

“I’m so glad you came!” Bonnie says, returning the hug enthusiastically.

“I am too, actually. Why have I never come to New Orleans before?” She sways a little to the music, drains her champagne, smiling when Bonnie laughs, “Seriously, I had a better time on the walk here than I have in ages.”

“We do like to hear that,” a low voice replies, just behind Caroline. She startles, dropping her glass, though it’s neatly caught by long fingertips, just next to her bare thigh, before it hits the floor.

People have got to quit sneaking up on her.

A hand lands on her hip, nudging her away from a potential collision with a nearby couple, and Caroline whirls, ready to remind Mr. Sneaky Feet that it's rude to interrupt a conversation.

The words don’t come. Caroline hadn’t realized just how close he would be.

Or that he’d be really attractive.

Her eyes dart to the champagne glass clutched in his hand, to a bare wrist, then a crisp white sleeve that’s already rolled up. His tie is askew, and his eyes are downcast, in the middle of giving her person an equally thorough perusal.

She can’t even be mad about it.

His thumb toys with the sequins that cover her dress, flicking one absently back and forth. She opens her mouth, unsure of just what is going to come out. There’s a 50/50 chance it’s either snippy – because hello, personal space – or flirty because she’s got excellent eyesight and fully believes in shooting her shot.

Thankfully, Bonnie interrupts, tugging on Caroline’s arm until she has the personal space that she’d been slow to take back for herself. “Klaus, this is my very good friend Caroline.”

There’s a definite warning in her tone. Caroline glances at Bonnie’s face, finds her expression is pleasant enough, at least to a person unfamiliar with Bon’s moods. Caroline is, however, so she studies Klaus a little more carefully. She shifts, boxing him out, and waits until Bon meets her eyes. A quirk of an eyebrow, then a tilt of her head, and Bonnie gets the message. “No, ew.”

So he’s not an ex, or someone Bonnie’s interested in. Good news, Caroline thinks, because that would be awkward considering how much she hadn’t minded his hands on her.

However, Caroline can’t help but look at Bon like she’s nuts.

Bonnie sighs, “It’s a long story. Klaus and I are…” she trails off, like she’s struggling for words.

“Partners,” Klaus supplies, smoothly shifting so they’re a circle once more. Caroline’s pretty sure he’s unused to being ignored.

“Eh, more like coworkers.”

A flutter of Klaus’ fingers and a new tray of champagne appears. He waits for Caroline to select a flute before taking one for himself. Bonnie declines with a shake of her head. “I feel like there’s a story here,” Caroline says, nudging Bonnie not so subtly with her foot to let her know that she’s a little peeved she hadn’t heard it before.

“Klaus is the one who first… invited me to New Orleans.”

Caroline doesn’t miss the hesitance. She narrows her gaze, shifting her weight to widen the distance between her body and Klaus.’ A smirk tugs at his full lips, but he sips his champagne, doesn’t press forward again. “I’m sensing the word invite is doing a lot of work there.”

He grins at that. “Truth be told, it was more of a coercion. A bit of blackmail, a few threats. But it all worked out for the best.”

Dubious, Caroline looks to Bonnie, only to find grudging agreement. “I will never admit Klaus is right about anything. But New Orleans is home now.”

Klaus’s smile turns taunting, and he lifts his glass, tipping it in Bonnie’s direction. “You’re welcome.”

Bonnie’s lips press together and Caroline feels an odd crackle of energy but then two other men, one familiar, one not, are at Bonnie’s side. The man she doesn’t recognize is taller and cups the back of Bonnie’s neck, pulling her into a kiss that’s so not appropriate for company. Enzo’s mouth brushes the side of Bonnie’s neck and Caroline knows she’s gaping at the scene like an idiot. Bonnie melts into Enzo though, her hands tugging the other guy closer. When he pulls back he tosses Caroline a salute, before spinning Bonnie onto the dance floor. She just catches his words before they’re swallowed up by the crowd, “No aneurysms on your birthday; you can torture Klaus at family dinner on Sunday.”

Enzo’s towed along, managing a wink at Caroline, “Hello, Gorgeous. We’ll catch up later, yeah?”

“Enzo, what…”

But he’s gone and Caroline resists the urge to dive in after them and start asking questions. “When did that happen?!” she exclaims, forgetting she has an audience.

Klaus leans closer, “Kol and Bonnie have been off and on for decades. They’ve been consistently on since Enzo arrived… about two years ago now.”

“I cannot believe they didn’t tell me,” Caroline grumbles. Enzo she kind of understands, he’s not the best at texting or emailing, is forever losing his phone. Bonnie should know that getting into a polyamorous relationship is the kind of juicy dirt that needs to be shared, damn it.

Klaus lifts a shoulder, “I’m not entirely sure your friend views it as serious. I expect a blow up once Kol presents her with the gift he bought for her. Possibly why he’s attempting to institute a no aneurysm rule.”

She’s dying to fish for more details, has to bite the inside of her lip to keep from immediately peppering Klaus with questions. He’s watching her expectantly though, his lips curled in amusement, and she knows that’s exactly what he expects.

Caroline would hate to be predictable.

She looks at the people near them, notes that most of them avert their eyes, as if they’ve been attempting to eavesdrop. “Klaus,” Caroline says again, letting the name roll off her tongue slowly.

“Mikaelson,” he supplies, with just a hint of a sigh. She supposes she has to give him a point for not attempting to deflect. “I assume my reputation precedes me?”

“That you’re an evil megalomaniac that’s prone to violent murderous rampages when things don’t go your way? I might have heard a whisper or two.”

He carefully avoids her gaze, sipping his drink calmly. “I’ve mostly cut down on those,” Klaus mutters.

Caroline hums noncommittally. But she doesn’t leave. “Bonnie leads the witches here, that much I know. What is it that you do?”

He moves closer, until she can feel the heat of his arm pressed against hers, skin separated by only his shirt. “I built this city.”

Caroline’s eye roll is automatic, too used to similar bragging from men who are trying to impress her. She reaches out, straightens his tie. “Sure,” she drawls, rubbing the obviously expensive fabric between her fingertips, “you seem like you build things all the time.”

He takes no offense, presses her hand flat against his chest, a laugh rumbling out of him. “You long are you planning on staying in my city, Caroline?”

His touch is light, his thumb stroking the back of her hand. It feels like an invitation, not a threat. Still, one can’t be too sure when playing with dangerous hybrids. “I assume that’s not a ‘be out before dawn if you don’t want your head on a pike’ hint?”

He circles her wrist, lifts her hand to his shoulder. He sets his glass aside, Caroline does the same. “Correct. You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like.”

“Good to know,” Caroline says, letting Klaus lead her onto the dance floor.

She had already been contemplating a few extra days, hadn’t she?

#klaroline #klaroline drabbles #i don't remember why I didn't make this one ah to be honest #also am on my bonnie/enzo/kol bullshit #bonnie deserves nice things damn it

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atlafan · 5 years ago

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Take it Slow - Part Forty-Three

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: TW: Mention of past abuse!!! (It’s really graphic) Fluff and Smut.

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

Harry wanted to make more of an effort to have time with you in the morning. He missed you so much all day, and wanted to enjoy the few minutes with you before you had to leave for work, so Monday morning he got up to have breakfast with you. He made you both oatmeal.

“This so nice.” You say sitting next to him at your island. “Thank you sweetie.”

“Course.” He smiles sleepily at you.

“Harry…I was wondering if you had to work late tomorrow night?”

“Shouldn’t have to, love. Why?”

“Well, and feel free to say no, but I was sort of wondering if you’d want to see Dr. Mara with me tomorrow.” His eyes softens and he puts a hand over yours.

“Did I…do something wrong?”

“No! Oh my god, no not at all.” You smile reassuringly at him. “I have sort of come to realize I have a real communication problem. You’re not a mind reader, and I feel really bad about when I sort of snap at you when you ask me certain questions…like I expect you to just understand something. It’s not really fair of me. She actually suggested I bring you with me after what happened last week, and I’ve had some time to think it over, and I think it would really help. She knows everything about me so…maybe she can help me explain some things to you. She can also be a mediator if I start to get a little snippy.”

He knew this was a huge deal for you. Harry had been to therapy before, he knew it was an incredibly vulnerable thing to do.

“I’m there.”

“Really?”

“Of course! I’m…honored you’re asking.”

“I really am sorry for all the times I’ve just sort flown off the handle. My undergrad degree is in communication for fuck’s sake, I should really know better.” So that’s why she was so good at reading others and assessing situations, he thinks to himself.

“I thought your degree was in like film studies?”

“No, no. That was my minor. My major was Communication and Media studies.”

“Ohhh, that makes a lot more sense.” He laughs.

“I should really practice what I preach. I can always tell when other people don’t communicate well. Or honestly, I’m great with like workplace, interpersonal communication. But I guess in my relationships I struggle a little.”

“I don’t love when you blow up at me, but I understand it. I can’t imagine how scary it must feel to be triggered by something, and have all of that adrenaline running through you.”

“Don’t make excuses for me, please, it’s okay. I’ve been wrong a lot of the time, I can admit to that.” You finish up your oatmeal. “Mm, this was so good.” You look at your watch. “Shit, it’s my day to pick up coffee, I need to get going.” You give him a quick kiss. “Have a great day.”

“You too babe. You goin’ t’the gym tonight?”

“Yup, should be home around six.”

“Great.”

You get Niall his coffee, and discuss theories about You and set up certain days to watch it during your lunch breaks. Everything felt back to normal with him which you were thankful for. The last thing you needed was for your work environment to be stressful. Your classes were all signed up for, and you’d be starting your first one in just a couple of weeks.

A companywide email went out about your annual holiday party. You were always thankful your CEO had the party at the end of January to give everyone time to recover from the holidays themselves. It was at this swanky hotel, and there was a huge ballroom for dancing. The food was always exceptional too, not to mention an open bar.

You come home sweaty from the gym, excited to tell Harry about the upcoming party.

“Hey babe!” You say.

“Hey! Just got through the door myself, haven’t had a chance to make up dinner.”

“No worries, I can cook.” You shrug. “Mark your calendar for the second to last weekend in January, the company party has been announced!”

“Oh great! What hotel is it gonna be at?”

“The Boston Harbor Hotel, it’s so beautiful!” You open the fridge and pull out some cauliflower. “M’gonna make some buffalo cauliflower, that work for you?”

“Sounds amazing.”

“Hmm, I’m gonnna have to go to Macy’s this weekend to get a dress.”

“Right, cause you don’t have enough in your closet.” He says playfully. You point your knife at him.

“You realize if I go shopping you get to watch me try on a bunch of different things right?”

“Ohh, okay, new dress it is.” He kisses your cheek as you prepare the rest of dinner.

“Your birthday is the weekend after that right?”

“Mhm.”

“I was thinking, if you wanted, we could go to a nice dinner.” He smiles at you.

“Just the two of us?”

“If that’s what you’d like.”

“I’d love nothin’ more.”

You toss the cauliflower into a bowl of your homemade buffalo sauce and toss it around. You pop them into the oven, and wait for them to crisp up a bit. You go to change out of your sweats and wrap your robe around your body. Harry’s sat as his desk. You go over to him and wrap your arms around him. He leans his head back to look at you.

“You know what this weekend is?”

“Hmmm.” He gives you a funny look. “What’s that love?”

“Five whole months together.” He tilts his head to kiss you.

“How lucky are we, hm?”

“So lucky.”

Harry meets you at Dr. Mara’s office after work. You were incredibly nervous, but happy he agreed to come with you. You had so much to get off your chest. He gives you a kiss when he meets you in the lobby, and holds your hand as you wait to be called in.

“Y/N?” Dr. Mara says, her smile deepens when she sees Harry with you. “Come on in. Is your friend joining us today?”

“Yes, Dr. Mara, this is my boyfriend Harry.”

“It’s so nice to meet you dear, I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you.” She shakes Harry’s hand.

“Same to you.”

You and Harry sit on the couch in her office.

“Harry, I’d like you just to observe for a bit. Y/N and I usually talk about our week, and anything positive that may have happened.”

“Sure.” You don’t let go of his hand.

“So, Y/N, how was your week, since I saw you last. You seem much calmer.”

“I am! Niall and I worked everything out. We’ve set up some new boundaries.”

“That’s very good.”

“Our CEO announced our annual holiday party.”

“Oh, you love that party.”

“I do! It’s so much fun. Harry’s coming with me this year.”

“That’s great. You must be excited to introduce him to so many people.”

“I am.” You look over at him. He smiles at you.

“Would you like to tell me why you’ve brought Harry with you today?”

Harry liked Dr. Mara. She reminded him of his mum. Her demeanor was calm, and her voice was quite soothing.

“Well, after what happened last week, I had a revelation that my boyfriend is not a mind reader.” You laugh. “I can’t expect him to understand why something may be upsetting me if I don’t fully explain everything first.”

“I see. And what would you like to explain to him today?”

“Why I don’t feel comfortable doing it from behind just yet.”

Harry chokes on the air in the room. You and Dr. Mara were both so calm about the subject. He didn’t realize you talked about the nitty gritty in here.

“Harry, are you uncomfortable with this conversation?” Dr. Mara asks. “It’s alright if you are, we can work our way up to this subject matter.”

“No, no, I just, um, didn’t realize we were going to be so…blunt.”

“I tell Dr. Mara everything, she knows a lot about…us.”

“This is a safe space Harry.” She says, giving him a reassuring smile. “Absolutely no judgement. These types of situations are sort of my specialty.”

“Alright.” He smiles back weakly. He looks over at you, and you squeeze his hand. Your heart was beating fast.

“Y/N, would you like to start?”

“Sure. So…I feel really bad for our fight last week. You really did ask me a simple question, and it triggered me. But I know I handled it immaturely. And then I just got more mad when you spoke with Niall about it.”

“Why does it bother you when Harry and Niall discuss these things?”

“Because even though they’re also best friends, and should be able to talk about their girlfriends, I just feel like if I don’t want to talk about something or if I’m not ready for Harry to know something, it shouldn’t be up to Niall to just tell him anyways. I feel like you two run off to each other sometimes, and it bothers me.” You say looking at him.

“I’m sorry…I can work on that.” You nod.

“Anyways, it was the third time you had brought it up, us doing it like that. And you sort of brought it up out of nowhere.”

“It had been on my mind.”

“Why?” He looks at you and then Dr. Mara, then back to you.

“Because…it feels good, and it’s a position I’d like to really do. And you hadn’t really given me a reason other than just shaking your head or saying no. I just wanted a little explanation. I know in the past I’ve told you that you didn’t need to explain things, but I was just very confused because we’ve done other things.” You nod.

“I see how that would have been confusing, and I should have just come right out and explained myself.” You take a deep breath. “Um…I’m going to tell you something…I’ve told you a little bit about what happened that night, but not the full story. If you’re okay with hearing it, I’d like to tell you.”

“I’m all ears.” You shift and let go of his hand. You twiddle your thumbs and look down to your lap.

“You both are doing great.” Dr. Mara says.

“So that night, Jake and I had only sort of made out up until that point. I didn’t want to have sex with him yet, but there were other things I wanted to do with him, that I would have been happy to do.” You close your eyes. “I can’t quite remember how it all escalated so quickly. I know he didn’t slip me anything.” You open your eyes back up, but keep them glued on your hands. “We had moved to the bed so we could kiss more comfortably. I was on top of him at first, and then he got on top of me, and pushed my dress up. Then he moved my underwear to the side and started touching me.” Harry’s jaw tenses, but his eyes remain soft. “I was fine with it, he was being gentle.” You look up at Dr. Mara, then back to your hands. You feel a tear go down your cheek. Harry grabs a tissue and hands it to you. “Like I said, I can’t remember how it escalated so quickly, but the next thing I knew, my face was being pushed in the mattress and he was just drilling it inside me. It hurt, a lot. He didn’t make sure I was wet enough for how hard he was going.” You shift, feeling uncomfortable from the memory. “He was pretty thick, so I knew I was tearing. Because he was being so forceful, I was too scared to fight back or tell him to get off me. I didn’t know what else he might do to hurt me. So I just let him do it.” Your voice cracks. “When he was done, it felt like a razer was being pulled out of me. I don’t know how he didn’t see the blood on his penis, there had to be a ton, there was enough between my legs and on the sheets.” Harry swallows hard, grabbing a tissue for himself to dab his eyes with. “When I think of doing it from that angle again, I just…” You take a deep breath. “I’m just automatically reminded of all of it.”

“The night we, um, you know when you let me?” His voice was hoarse, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“That was different, for whatever reason. You had taken your time with me, and I felt safe. I wanna work up to doing it, I really do. I’m just…I can’t not think about it.”

“I’m so sorry…” He puts a hand on your shoulder. “I can’t imagine doing something like that to someone. I truly will never understand how people can be so cruel.” He looks at Dr. Mara. “There’s a question I’d like to ask, since we’re in a safe space. Somethin’ that’s been on my mind since you first told me everything.” He looks back at you.

“What babe?”

“Why…why didn’t you ever press charges?” Your eyes grow wide and your mouth drops open. “I’m not trying to shame you or anythin’, I just don’t understand.”

“I almost did, but I just wanted it all to go away.”

“Didn’t you ever think that he might do it to someone else?” Your body was starting to shake, and you felt your breathing start to move rapidly.

“I…I feel…” You couldn’t breathe.

“Shit. What should I do?” He looks at Dr. Mara.

“Y/N, get up and walk around, I’ll get you a paper bag.”

You get up and pace around the room quickly trying to calm your fight or flight. Dr. Mara hands you a paper bag to breathe in and out of. She rubs your back lightly.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No.” You say returning your breathing to a more normal pace. “No, it’s okay, it’s a valid question.” You sit back down. “I don’t have a good answer. I still have everything, the sheets, the outfit…it’s hidden in my storage unit. I think I just wanted to pretend like nothing happened, or that it wasn’t as serious. I didn’t really want to seek vengeance, but I see what you’re saying about him potentially hurting someone else. I was selfishly only thinking of myself.”

“You’re not selfish Y/N.” Dr. Mara interjects. “Everyone deals with these things differently, and it’s up to you at the end of the day.”

“Wouldn’t you encourage her to press charges though?”

“It’s not my job to tell her what to do. Forcing a victim to go through that trauma over and over again is a lot to ask.” Harry nods.

“Someday I might, but right now it’s just not something I want to do. I know it doesn’t make sense, Harry.”

“It doesn’t have to, it didn’t happen to me.” He clears his throat. “Not that everything needs to be about sex, but Dr. Mara, how would you suggest we proceed with all of this?”

“Well, that’s up to the two of you. Keep having this open communication with each other. Don’t be afraid to speak up. Y/N, we’ve talked about you trying small things when you feel comfortable doing so. The two of you could try getting into the position, but with no penetration. Little things like that.”

You look at Harry, and back to Dr. Mara.

“I have another suggestion, Harry I don’t think you need to come here every week with Y/N, just so she can still feel like she can talk about anything with me, but why don’t you come once a month or even every other month so we can have small check ins like this?”

“Yeah, I could do that. Is that something you’d want?” He asks you.

“Yes, definitely. This was really helpful.” You smile at the both of them.

When you get home later, Harry doesn’t let you out of his touch. Whether it was his hand needing to hold yours, or his arm being around you, he wasn’t to let go of you. Neither of you said much, nothing really needed to be said. He was still trying to process everything, you finally told him about that awful night. You both had gotten cozy into some pj’s, and he made some soup for dinner. You ate on the couch while the two of you watched TV. He kept a hand on your knee the entire time.

“Harry?”

“Yes, love?”

“Would you read to me for a while?”

“Like on the sofa?”

“Yeah, I could lay on your chest and get cozy. I wanna know what happens next and I don’t wanna be too tired for it.”

“Alright.” He smiles and gets up to retrieve his book and glasses from the bedroom.

Harry lays on the couch, resting against the armrest. You snuggle up to him, and pull the blanket from the back of the sofa over the both of you. He picks up where he left off, and reads the story to you. You close your eyes to imagine Eric and Jane. Two best friends. You’ve gotten to the part in the story where Eric realizes he has feelings for Jane, but he has no idea how she feels about him. He talks about wanting to be around her all the time, and anytime she’s near, his heart flutters.

“Harry?” You interrupt him.

“Hm?”

“How long have you been reading books like this for?” He shifts his glasses to the top of his head.

“God, for a long time. I never realized how much I liked them until uni though. I took this young adult literature class for an elective, and I loved like every book we read. The professor let us pick out a lot of our own to read as well, and I sort fell into this genre. I think I like them because you can just get so lost in these stories. They can get a bit steamy sometimes, but that’s not why I read ‘em. I could read about two people fallin’ in love over and over, and never get bored.”

“You’re so romantic.” You kiss his cheek. “It’s sweet.” His kisses the top of your head. “Please, continue.”

He chuckles and continues reading. The characters begin to have a fight over Jane’s son. Harry gets choked up when she tells Eric she needs to move because she can’t afford her apartment anymore. She tells him she’ll need to move in with her mother, who lives hours away. Eric offers to have them move in him, but she says no, and the fight just gets worse. Harry full on starts crying, and has to take his glasses off to rub his eyes.

“Are you alright? You’ve read this before baby.”

“I know.” He says through his tears. “This part just makes me so mad because if he just fuckin’ told her how he felt she’d stay because she loves him too.” He dog ear’s the page and takes a deep breath. “I need t’take a break, they’re both just so fuckin’ stupid. And her poor son, he looks at Eric like a father and like to rip the two of them apart? It’s fucked.”

The way Harry was getting worked up reminded you of how you cried over Max and Liz at the end of the first season of Roswell: New Mexico. You loved how sensitive he was, and how invested he was with his book. You take the book and his glasses from him, and rest them on the coffee table. You kiss him tenderly and wipe his tears away.

“I can’t wait to hear what happens next. I have a feeling they’ll work it out.”

“Yeah, but at what cost?” You burst out laughing, and so does he.

“Did I tell you earlier how much I appreciate you coming to therapy tonight?”

“I was happy to go.”

“I love you so much, Harry.” You snuggle into him.

“I love you too, baby. You’re so strong and brave, I hope you know that.”

“I want you to know that I’m open to trying some different things. Not tonight, obviously, but I’m going to be less closed off when you suggest things.”

He holds her tight to him. He was impressed with her attitude change.

Harry tended to keep a cool exterior at work. He liked keeping his personal life private. He worked with mostly women and only one other guy. He wasn’t close with any of them, friendly enough though. He knew a couple of the interns had crushes on him. Sometimes he wished the magazine didn’t hire on so many college students. He didn’t pay them much attention, but he could always tell when they were watching him work.

He had a small office with a desk and decent size monitor so he could edit whatever pictures he needed to on the spot. He had a few photos in there, one of his mum and sister, and one of you. Actually two. He had one from your weekend away in New Hampshire, and one from England. He snapped a cute picture of you in your pj’s on Christmas morning. You’d probably kill him if you knew that was the picture he had of you on his desk. When he needed a smile or a good chuckle, he’d look over at it. Sometimes he’d find himself scrolling through Facebook or his camera roll to look at pictures of you. He hated how much he missed you during the day, but he couldn’t help it.

He was working at his desk, he looked over at one of the pictures of you and smiled. He really did think you were cute. There’s a knock on the outside of his door, pulling him from his distraction. He looks up to see one of the interns.

“Yeah?”

“Um, hi Mr. Styles-“

“You can call me Harry, I’ve told you, it’s not that formal of a place.”

“Right…sorry, um, Harry.”

“So, what’s up?”

“Oh, right…um, I was told to give these flash drives to you. These photos need touching up.” She continues to stand in the doorway.

“Okay, can you come hand them to me please?” She blushes and walks further into the office. He holds his hand out and she drops them into his palm. “Thanks.” He says without looking at her. She notices the photos of all the women on his desk.

“Are all those women related to you?”

“Hm?” She points to the pictures. “Oh, no.” He smirks. “Well, that’s my mum and sister, and then that’s my girlfriend.” He looks at the picture and smiles, then back to the intern. “I love her very much.”

“Oh…well…that’s nice.” She stands there awkwardly.

“Did you need anythin’ else?” He asks, putting his earbuds back in.

“Nope.” She walks out and goes to the other intern, defeated. “He has a girlfriend.”

“So, not like he’s married.”

“He looked at me and said he loved her very much.” She groans. “Who was I kidding, that’s the most he’s ever talked to me.” She looks back at him. “He’s so fucking hot, of course he has a girlfriend.”

“Did you see a picture of her?”

“Yeah, he has two on his desk.” She rolls her eyes.

“Was she pretty?”

“I didn’t get a good look.”

You got a call around 10:30 in the morning from the realtor. He let you know that you got approved for the apartment. You squealed and yelled and freaked out in your office. You didn’t want to just call Harry to tell him. The realtor gave you all the details you needed to move forward and you told him you’d call him back in a little while. You decided to do something you never did before: surprise Harry at his office.

You looked really good today. You had blown out your hair and added some curls on the ends. You were wearing a green short sleeve shirt and a black pencil skirt that came a few inches above the knee. You had black tights and heels on. You were wearing a white blazer as well. You grabbed your long jacket, and decided to take an early lunch to go surprise him with the good news. You grabbed your red lipstick that you knew he loved so much, and touched it up in the mirror in your car.

The building he worked in had the heat cranked up, probably to keep the plants from dying. You took your jacket off, and got into the elevator up to the studio. He had described the building enough times for you to know where to go.

When you walk in you see a young man sitting at a large desk. You smile at him and ask if Harry was in. He smiles and points to where Harry’s office was. It was set up so different from your office. There was a large open space and multiple set ups for photos to be taken. All of the office had glass windows. There were some other desks out in the open. You see two younger girls looking at you, their eyebrows raised. You turn and see Harry’s name on the outside window next to his open door. You run your hand over it and knock.

Harry was deep into his work. He figured it was just one of the girls hanging around his door again. You knocked a little louder.

“Excuse me, Mr. Styles?” He rolls his eyes and sighs, taking his earbuds back out. He gasps when he sees that it’s you.

“Oh my god.” He immediately perks up, and stands to greet you, wrapping his arms around you. The interns watch the whole thing. “What are you doin’ here?”

“Got a sec?” You say with a big smile on your face.

“Yeah! Come in, let me grab the door. Not that it makes for much privacy.” You watch him close it.

“I can see why you’re not able to have sex in here.” You smirk, and sit on his desk. He chuckles.

“You look really nice today.” He takes the end of your hair between two fingers.

“Thank you.” You blush.

“That has to be his girlfriend.” One of the girls says.

“Shh, I’m watching. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that guy smile so much.”

“So for real, what’s with you surprisin’ me?” He boops your nose.

“I got a call a little while ago.” You beam at him.

“Oh really?” You bite your bottom lip, and he can’t help but stare at your mouth. “Babe, you’re killin’ me.”

“We got the apartment!” You squeal jumping up and throwing your arms around him.

“What?!”

“The realtor called me earlier!”

He wraps his arms around you, lifts you up, and spins you around. He dips you slightly and kisses you, your hands go into his hair as he deepens the kiss, not caring who could see.

The girls who were watching the entire exchange have to pick their jaws up off the floor. The boy who works at the reception desk walks by them and sits on their desk.

“That’s the luckiest bitch I’ve ever seen.” He says to them.

You break the kiss as Harry sets you back up right. You giggle at his now red lips. You take your thumb and try to rub it off.

“Sorry ‘bout that.”

“S’okay, I really don’t care. So, what do we need to do next?”

“He said we can call him together after we both get home from work. I was just so excited, I didn’t want to just-“ Your eyes bug out and you snatch the picture of you in your pj’s from his desk. “Harry!” You whine. “Out of all the pictures we took that week, this is the one you choose?” You look down at it. “I look like such a dork.”

“No, you look so cute. It makes me smile every time I look at it.” He pouts. You roll your eyes and put the picture back on your desk. He grabs your face with his thumb and forefinger. “I really, really fucking hate it when you roll your eyes at me.” He says with a smile on his face. You bite your bottom lip.

“Harry.” You whisper. “We’re at your place of work.”

“And?” You were starting to sweat. You look down then back up at him through your lashes.

“We should, um, celebrate tonight.” You put your hand on his and slide it up to your mouth, giving his knuckles a kiss. “Don’t you think?”

“Great idea.” You look over your shoulder, and squint at the three younger people watching you. They all look in opposite directions.

“You really don’t have much privacy, do you?” You chuckle.

“Nope. I think all three of ‘em have a crush on me. He’s worked here the longest out of them, he’s the least annoying. The girls are interns from some college. They bother me all the time.”

“I don’t blame them.” You smirk.

“What?”

“Harry, if I was twenty years old, and I was working at a place where I had to be around a guy that looked like you all day, I’d bother you any chance I got.”

“That so?”

“Oh yeah, I’d be in here all the time like, Mr. Styles I got you a coffee, Mr. Styles you’re needed for a photo, Mr. Styles you are so funny.” You giggle as he shakes his head at you.

“That’s literally what they say to me, minus that I’m funny. I don’t think I’ve ever cracked a joke around them.”

“Really? I’m surprised, you’re a performer at heart.”

“Oh shut up.” He nudges you. “So you really came here cause ya just wanted to tell me in person.”

“Yes, you goober.”

“Ha!” He throws his head back as he laughs. “That is seriously my new favorite word. I’m not goober though, you’re goober.” There’s a sudden knock at his door. A woman with really short hair and a tattoo on the side of her neck and a hoop in her left nostril. Harry waves her in.

“Hey Harry.”

“Hi Mariah, this is my girlfriend, Y/N, she was just stoppin’ by quick.”

“No worries, hi, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Same to you.” You smile.

“I’m having trouble setting a shot up for one of my frames and I’m starting to get aggravated, do you have a minute to help me?”

“Course, give me two minutes.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey, where did you get your nose pierced? I’ve always wanted one, but the place I’ve gotten my other piercings went out of business, and I can’t find any good places around here.”

“Oh! I went to the same place I got my tattoos. It’s this little place called Rob’s Ink. Ask for Andrew, he’s the best, made me feel totally relaxed.”

“And you didn’t have any issues after?”

“Not at all. I will say if you want a hoop, just make sure you get it pierced with a stud, the hoops heal weird.”

“Good to know, thanks.” You smile.

“What other piercings do you have?” You blush.

“Oh, just my, um, naval. Pretty basic.” Harry smirks.

“Cool, mine’s pierced too. So two minutes H?”

“Yup.” She gives you a small wave as she leaves.

“She seems nice.”

“Mariah? Yeah she’s cool. She’s been here about as long as I have. She’s the only one I don’t find to be a complete idiot.” He squints at your nose. “Do you really want your nose pierced?”

“Yeah! It’s becoming more acceptable at my work. I want a little hoop, I think it would look cute.”

“It would look hot.” You shake your head and smile.

“I better go so you can help her. I’ll see you tonight. Meet me at home so we can call the realtor and then we can go grab a bite?”

“Sounds good, love.” You give him a quick kiss, and leave his office. “I love you.” He says just as you walk out.

“I love you too.” You blow him a kiss, and he catches it, putting it in his pocket for later. Your heart flutters.

Harry walks over to the interns. The young man had gone back over to his desk. Harry places his palms on the desk and leans over.

“You girls enjoy the show?” They both blink at him as he smirks at them. “Maybe you both should find somethin’ t’work on.” He stands up straight and walks over to Mariah’s set up. They watch him walk away.

“He has to know the power he has.”

“Oh yeah, he knows exactly what he’s doing.”

“What I would give to be the girl he was kissing, my god.”

When you get back to work you tell Niall all about the apartment, and he hugs you. You couldn’t wait to get home so you and Harry could go over everything. He got home a few minutes after you. You both sit at island and call the realtor going over all the steps you’d need to take next. He said you’d be able to move in, in February.

“Harry I am so excited!!”

“Me too!” You both stand and hug each other.

“Okay, where do you wanna go to eat? I’ll bring my laptop and we can make a spreadsheet of our budget. I was almost thinking we should open a joint checking account that we could just both deposit into to pay the rent through automatic payments.” He had never seen you talk so…businessy.

“Um…sure, we could talk about all tha’.”

You grab your laptop and put it in its case. Harry grabs his keys and you both head out the door. You go to a local bar that had wifi. You sit on the same side of a booth so you both can add the numbers into a spreadsheet. You talk about the different banks that you go to, and research which one would be best for you both to open an account with. He was so impressed with you. Once you finish with all of the “adult” stuff, you start to sip on the drinks you ordered.

“So…we should probably tell our families soon, huh?” You say.

“Yeah, I’ll call mum tomorrow.” He smiles. “She’s gonna be thrilled, I know it.” He puts his hand over yours. “Do you want me to help tell your folks?”

“No…it’ll be alright. My mom will be fine with it. I’m sure she’s half expecting it anyways. Maybe I’ll drive in to see her Sunday.”

“I don’t mind going with you.”

“I should really tell her myself, but thank you sweetie.”

“What about your dad. I really don’t want him yellin’ at you. And this is somethin’ you should tell him in person. Do you want me to like ask him for his permission or whatever?” You laugh.

“No, he’s not like a super traditional guy. I mean Erica and Kyle (her brother, I never named him) both moved in with their significant others early on…well, not this early on. But…I’ve always been different from them. My dad doesn’t think I think everything through, but I do.” You kiss his cheek. “I’m not going to let him ruin this for us.”

“Anythin’ special you wanna do this weekend? Five months is a big deal ya know?” He smirks.

“I would love to spend all day Saturday with you.”

“That can be arranged.”

“In bed.”

Harry got you out of that bar and into the backseat of his car faster than you could count to five.

#harry styles #take it slow #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles y/n fic #harry styles smut #harry styles smut fic #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #throwing this at you a little earlier than usual #i know a lot of you are bored stuck at home #im going to to try to write some blurbs tonight too #let me know what you think!

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honey-andtea1889 · 4 years ago

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The Cold Autumn Evenings (H.S.) Part One

AN: Okay so I really tired making this an MGG fic but it didn’t work out like at all. However, Harry literally fit this so well and I seriously couldn’t resist. I’m currently working on parts two and three already and I’m so excited for y’all to read this! Please don’t forget to request stuff, my asks are open and dry asf!

Summary: Y/N works as a writing intern for a large Publishing Company in London. Harry is her boss and wants her to read a novel he had written, little does she know that the novel has a deeper meaning to Harry.

Warnings: None

Song: The City by Ed Sheeran

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It started like any other day. The November morning was frigid as Y/N had made her way into the publishing office she was interning at with four coffees for her coworkers and boss. The heat of the building caught her as she walked into the small, busy office. Fall in London was always beautiful, but the cold could take its toll more than anything.

Y/N had gotten this internship during Uni, she was lucky enough to be able to get it due to it’s high demand for already set writers. It was one of the more prestigious Publishing Companies to work for. She had applied for the paid internship position earlier in the semester and was very lucky to have gotten in when she did. The company was only hiring one or two interns and with how much Y/N loved writing, she knew she had to push to get the job.

Y/N had been writing stories since she could pick up a pencil. She thoroughly enjoyed writing fantasy stories, however she’s recently grown accustomed to romances. She always knew this was a career path she wanted to take which made her job all the more worth it. She was able to lose herself in her writings, that’s what she loved most about it.

“Thank you Y/N!” Claire, Y/N’s best friend, said as she took the warm beverage from the cup holder.

“No problem! How’s that story going so far? Anything interesting yet?” Y/N asked as she passed out the other coffees.

“Ugh no. Don’t get me wrong, the whole Sci-fi feel of it is cool, but there’s little to no understanding of the plot. Plus no background on the characters at all, and don’t get me started on the vague descriptions of the settings.” Claire groaned as she flopped the packet of paper down on her desk.

“Yikes, sounds rough. What chapter are you on?” Y/N asked.

“Chapter five.. I don’t want to toss it just yet because there’s some potential to it but seriously, this guy couldn’t have tried a little harder?”

Y/N chuckled as she settled into her desk, getting herself ready for the day that was planned. She had a set schedule for each and every day. She would answer calls, take stories back to her boss, and so on. Y/N was happy that she landed this internship but she wanted to show off some of her writings. She knew she wasn’t terrible with her stories and there’s always room for improvement, but she wanted to show what she could do. She had actually brought it up to her boss, Harry, but he never had the chance to read it simply because he was too busy with other clients.

Harry always took on a lot of work. He would read almost 4 stories a day! It was astonishing to see that someone who runs one of the top publishing companies still had time to make himself a meal in between all of the work he was doing. That was an admirable trait about him. Y/N knew that asking Harry to take time to read something she had written was asking a lot, to which she never really tried.

Y/N had also tried reaching out to Claire but she felt as though reading a friend’s work was biased, like she already knew she would go through and publish it without reading it all. Y/N didn’t want to just be given that kind of credibility. She needed to work for it and the only way to even remotely come close to that was for her boss to read it or for her to go to an opposing firm which could cause her to lose the internship and everything she had worked for up to this point. So with that in mind, Y/N left it alone.

There was a stack of papers on Y/N’s desk for Harry, contracts and other stories that needed to be read over again for editing. She sighed as she picked up the stack and walked over to his office, slightly knocking on the mahogany door.

“Come in.” Harry said as he pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose.

“Good morning Mr. Styles! I have your coffee and here are some things that were left for you. There’s a contract or two for the last couple authors you signed and some stories that came in this morning.” She said, settling everything in its proper place.

“Thank you, Love. Don’t know if I could do this job without ya!” Harry smiled, his thick English accent melting into the words he spoke.

Y/N blushed and left the office with a skip in her step.

In a sense, Y/N was Harry’s assistant. Though that wasn’t necessarily her job title, it was basically the job of it. She didn’t mind it though. She actually loved the job, only because Harry made work so much better.

There’s no denying that Harry is attractive, anyone with a pair of eyes could see that. His dark brown hair flopped on his head elegantly, a few loose curls falling down around his face sometimes. He had these bright green eyes that could captivate anyone with a single stare and these plushy, raspberry colored looking lips that looked so inviting. His dimples that appeared whenever he smiled were some of the cutest things people have seen. His stature was also something that caught the attention of people. He was tall, just the right height to show some intimidation. He had broad shoulders that had Y/N weak in her knees nearly every day and his suits always clung onto his built form, driving every woman in the office mad with how great he looked. Hell, the word attractive doesn’t do the man any justice.

Y/N flopped on her desk and began her work. She spent most of her day answering emails and printing off agreements and such for incoming clients. It wasn’t the most fun, but she was able to stop into Harry’s office a few times so she wasn’t too bummed.

“Well I’m sorry Mr. Thompson, but unfortunately, this was already written and made into a play on broadway. I can’t really do that considering it’s plagiarism and I can get into a lot of trouble with that.” Harry sighed as he rubbed his forehead.

Y/N giggled as she set the last set of stories on his desk. He shook his head and hung up the phone, rubbing his eyes and groaning out of frustration. Y/N smiled and sat down on the chair in front of his desk.

“What was that all about?” She asked.

“Some very estranged gentleman wanted me to publish a story about two witches in a form of High school setting.” Harry said as he leaned back in his chair.

“Wait...isn’t that Wicked?” Y/N asked as she crossed her legs.

“Exactly my point. Do you know what he wanted to call it?”

“Oh man, this should be interesting.”

“He wanted to call it ‘Haunted High’. Sorry but I’m not going to be sued because of his lack of creativity and effort.” Harry chuckled.

Y/N giggled and ran her fingers through her hair. Harry smiled at the girl in front of him.

He did have a form of admiration for Y/N. He loved how hard she worked and her drive for the job. He enjoyed having her around the office as well. Her energy was something sweet to behold and he adored her personality. She was always so happy and bubbly whenever he saw her. Harry was a little nervous when she was brought in from Uni. He didn’t want to overwhelm her with everything they did but she’s been working like a champ. He was so lucky to have someone like her to help him out.

“I was going to head to lunch here pretty soon, did you need me for anything before I go?” Y/N asked as she stood from the chair.

“I think I’m all set at the moment, love. Thank you.” Harry smiled as he turned to his computer.

Y/N smiled as she exited the small room and headed to the elevator. Claire joined her as they went down to the main floor. The pair walked to a small cafe that was down the street from the Publishing building. They found a few seats over by the big window and happily sat down for their lunch hour.

“So, have you tried to get Mr. Styles to read your book yet?” Claire asked as she skimmed over the menu.

“Not yet. He’s got a lot coming up and not to mention the I-couldn’t-tell-you how many new stories to read every day. I don’t wanna add to it, ya know? He doesn’t need the extra stress.” Y/N explained.

“Though I do understand it, I still think you should try. I’m sure he’ll make time for you.” Claire winked.

Y/N chuckled as she continued looking over the menu.

Claire had a preconceived notion that Harry had a bit of a crush on Y/N and vice versa. Anyone could see the slight attraction between the two and it was only a matter of time before either one made a move on the other. Even Y/N’s mother thought that they’d make a cute couple!

She thought about what Claire had said. Would Harry really make time for her? And if so, why? She’s only his assistant, it’s not like they were the closest of friends or something. Y/N wanted some of her stories published, but was she ready to actually pull through with it?

After lunch, Claire and Y/N returned to the office to finish up their work day. Y/N sat at her desk and contemplated on talking to Harry about her stories. She built up some courage and made her way to his office. She knocked on the door and heard a faint ‘come in’ from the other side. As she entered, she could see Harry with his glasses on, indulged in one of the stories that was brought in earlier. She cleared her throat, Harry picking his head up and smiling at her.

“Hello, petal! To what do I owe the pleasure?” Harry asked, looking back down at the packet.

“M-Mr.Styles....I was wondering..I-I know you’re incredibly b-busy with other stories a-and clients b-but...I was curious that...m-maybe you could look at..m-my story that I’ve wr-written?” Y/N stumbled on her words.

Harry looked up at the girl in front of his desk. She was playing with the buttons of her blouse, indicating that she was nervous to ask, as though her mumbling and stuttering didn’t already give that away. He smiled at her. Harry had a feeling that Y/N knew it might not happen due to how busy he always is, but she looked so sweet with asking and she’s probably worked so hard on it. She wants him to look over her work. In his heart, he’s honored. It’s not every day where one of your employees wants you to take a look into their daily lives. Y/N wanted his opinion and his judgement on something she holds near and dear to her.

“Alright, Y/N. Since you’re so eager for me to see it, bring it in tomorrow and I’ll take a look.” Harry said.

Y/N could feel the weight lift off of her shoulders.

“You’re kidding.” She coughed.

“Y/N, when it comes to doing my job, I don’t do anything of the sort. I will do you the favor of reading it, however this does not guarantee that it will be published. You’re still rather young so I am not having my hopes super high for it.” Harry sighed, closing the packet and setting it in his briefcase.

Y/N felt the slight pang in her chest from his words. He didn’t think her writing would be good. She was hoping he would be a little more excited about it but it seems as though she was wrong.

“Yes Mr. Styles, I understand. I will have it on your desk tomorrow morning.” Y/N whispered.

She exited the office as quickly as she could and slumped over to her desk.

How could he think her book would suffice to all of the other bullshit he was reading? It just didn’t make sense to her. She knew she had to prove him wrong. She pulled out her computer and began looking for her best story. She found the one she had written in her 3rd year of Uni and printed it out. She wrote on a sticky note for Harry to see that it was one of her best pieces.

Harry was leaving his office when he saw her making a few notes on her calendar. She looked up and straightened up her posture, becoming a little nervous that he might ask if she was upset by his comment that was made a few minutes prior.

“I’m heading home now, I’m going to be a bit late tomorrow morning. I have a meeting with corporate. They’ve been on my arse about how things have gone here and why we haven’t met our quota for this quarter. Whenever you get your story, please leave it on my desk and I will try to read it as soon as I get in.” Harry stated, looking down at his phone.

“Yes sir. Is there anything you need me to do tonight?” Y/N had asked.

“N-..actually yes. There’s an extra novel in the top drawer of my desk that needs to be looked at. I can’t get to it at all, is there any way you could look at it?” He asked.

Y/N nodded. He bid his goodbyes and left the building. Y/N entered the office with her book in hand, placing it on the center of his desk neatly. Presentation is key. Before she left, Y/N grabbed the novel that Harry was talking about and exited his office. She looked at the title and stopped in her tracks.

His Beloved, Her Heart by Harry Styles.

He wanted her to read his novel. Just like hers, there was a note attached to the packet of paper.

Y/N, I know I was a bit harsh with my words earlier to which I apologize for and this is probably the last thing you want to do tonight but I need a second opinion. I trust your judgement and would appreciate any feedback you give. Xx H

She traced over his handwriting delicately and felt a smile creep on her face. She soon packed up her things and scampered back to her small flat on the South side of London. When she returned home, Y/N threw her shoes into the closet closest to the door and entered her kitchen. She heard the small pitter patter of her french bulldog, Sam. Petting the sweet pooch, she started up her coffee machine and went into her bedroom to change into some comfier clothes.

Y/N snuggled into her couch with her coffee in hand and began reading Harry’s story. Within the first few chapters, she was hooked. The plot of two people meeting in Central Park and falling in love during Christmas time was enticing, not to mention the beautiful descriptions of the settings, emotions, and character development was captivating.

She never really pegged Harry as a writer. From what she’s heard around the office, Harry was more for reading poetry and writing music rather than stories. Rumor has it that he didn’t want the job of running the company in the first place. However, from what Y/N was reading, those statements were more wrong than anything. She loved how he worded certain paragraphs and how delicate the characters were made to be. It almost felt as though she was reading the script to her favorite Hallmark Christmas movie.

She did note a few small things like grammar/spelling mistakes (happens to the best of us, really), questioned why he wanted to end a certain chapter the way he did, and so on. It was almost one in the morning before she noticed how late it was.

With that in mind, Y/N headed to bed, preparing for more reading tomorrow.

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iwillhaveamoonbase · 4 years ago

Text

Replay ch. 3

Chapter is rated M

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Rayla got up at seven, eyes heavy from the lack of sleep last night. “Noooo. UGH.” She turned to angrily glare at her alarm that had interrupted her rain noises. Aberdeen wasn’t the rainiest place in the world, but the sound of a rain storm always helped put her to sleep. Her mum and da always joked she was named ‘Rayla’ because she was born right when the moon shone through a stormy night.

Rayla went through her emails quickly, making a note in her phone to call both sets of her parents this weekend. She missed the days in Scotland when Runaan would speak French with her and talk cheese or helping Ethari in his jewelry business. Runaan ran the books while Ethari ran the artistic side, his work with metal and jewel placement both tasteful and modern while taking classic elements from Celtic art.

Her parents had yet to retire from being bodyguards, but they regaled her with stories of Africa and Asia and Australia, how kind people were, the different foods and cultures. Sometimes, she wished she could have grown up going with them. Other times, she knew they had made the right choice leaving her with Runaan and Ethari. They wouldn’t have had much time for her anyways.

Sighing, she rolled out of bed. She had a breakfast date with Corvus before she had to be at the office. God. She hated those pricks sometimes; a lot of old money lived in that office. She had thought she was leaving classism behind when she did her study abroad in the States for her law degree. Apparently, America just hid their classism really well instead of openly displaying it like they did back in the UK.

She lived well, was paid well, did better than anyone had expected her to do, probably. She had been more focused on athletics as a kid, leading Runaan to force her into ballet (‘you already know some French. It’s perfect!’), Ethari insisting on Irish step dance (‘Lain’s mother was Irish. It’s a world wide sensation, Rayla!’), and her own parents signing her up for kickboxing when she was in high school during their vacation from work. Her teachers had been frustrated that she was smart but didn’t ‘apply herself’ whatever that meant. She got good grades, did better in college, got into law school in another country, and passed the bar. She could apply herself just fine. She just liked to be active.

Rayla sighed as she stepped into the hot water of her shower. She had made a good choice buying this shower head. Slowly, she felt the burn that had started last night begin to build back up again. Green eyes entered her mind again, as well as a voice that she would love to hear calling her name out while she rode him. ‘Calm down, Rayla.’ She couldn’t meet Corvus horny. Rayla sighed, putting her forehead against the shower wall before starting to massage her breast. She tried to imagine it was Callum’s hand stroking her, dipping down to touch between her thighs where she ached.

Would his hands be soft or rough? There hadn’t been any obvious calluses when she had shaken his hand at the cheese shop. She moaned, dipping her fingers into her wet heat. Her thighs rubbed together as she tried to chase that elusive release. She didn’t have time for this. The more she tried to speed up, the more it just wasn’t happening. Growling in frustration, she tried to play with her clit, breathing deeply as she finally found a rhythm that was working. Rayla bit her bottom lip and sighed as she came, inwardly crowing with satisfaction. There was no worse start to a day than being unable to cum after a wet dream or being too horny to function.

She washed and dried off, stretching her muscles before dressing. The green pantsuit and black top showed off her toned figure without drawing too much attention to any one place. Her heels made her even taller and, hopefully, a little intimidating to jerky clients or coworkers. She grabbed her purse and went out the door. When she finally made it to her car, she leaned her head on the steering wheel. Had she really started her day off by masturbating to a guy she met YESERDAY?

She shook her head, driving off until she made it to the little café she and Corvus frequented. Corvus also worked in the same building, but for a different law office, specifically divorce. Rayla had no idea how he did it, but someone had to. She saw Corvus at their usual table, smiling at something on his phone. “Your boyfriend sent you a naughty text?”

Corvus smirked back up at her. “Nope. Just something about one of my latest clients. Well, their soon-to-be-ex.”

“Good news or bad news?”

“Well, considering it’s a custody case, it’s good for my client.”

“Abuse?” Rayla frowned.

“I would not be smirking if that was the case. No. Apparently, the ex has been mismanaging the children’s money. Lying about putting it in a back account for them and spending it on gambling debts.”

“You don’t call that abuse?” Rayla smiled up at the waiter who came over, ordering an earl grey, a coffee to go, and an omelet.

“Thank you,” Corvus nodded to the waiter. “I do, personally, but everyone views that differently. The children were never struck, no record of emotional, mental, or oral abuse. It seemed like it was going to go 50-50 custody, which tends to be the ideal situation, but my client was concerned about the gambling problem.”

“So best case scenario, gambler’s anonymous and supervised visits eventually leading to 50-50 custody?”

“Best case scenario. Probably won’t happen, but we can all hope.”

Rayla shook her head. “I don’t know how you do it. I didn’t do criminal law or divorce law because I wasn’t sure I could handle seeing evidence of child abuse all day.”

“It’s a lot. We try to spread those cases around as much as we can, because it gets to be too much when it’s all you see. When police reports come into play, it’s even worse.” Rayla nodded. “While you work for old money. Tell me, how’s Kasef doing?”

“Hitting on me, again. Got upset when I told him off for glaring at a guy in a cheese shop for asking me a question.”

“He comes down to our office on his breaks and hits on half the women there.”

“Believe me, I know. His father gets really upset about it.”

“How is Mr. Ahling?”

“Still insisting we call him ‘Mr. Ahling’ and not the proper ‘Mr. Patel.’ His health is starting to go downhill, so we’re hoping his daughter graduates soon and can start to learn how to take over the office.”

Corvus shook his head, smiling at the waiter with her when they brought their food. “Thank you. I’m telling you, join our office. You could be really good at gathering information.”

“Thank you, but, no thanks. I grew up believing in true love with both sets of my parents. I’d like to continue believing in it.”

“You still believe in love. I love my boyfriend so much we’re moving in together.”

“Well, congratulations to you both. You moving in to his apartment or is he moving into your’s?”

“Mine’s bigger and closer to both our jobs.”

They talked work for a few more minutes, keeping an eye on the time. Rayla sighed as she looked at Corvus. “I’ve got a favor to ask.”

“My hairdresser would love to do your hair. Those layers are cute, but maybe you need a new look.”

“Ha ha. My hair’s fine, thanks. You remember me mentioning a guy in the cheese shop?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, he asked to draw me. He said it’s cool that I brought a friend and I would like to bring you. I don’t really have any other friends in the city.” She finished her tea, opening the lid of her coffee to put some cream in.

“He seem legit?”

“I saw his art. He also runs a YouTube channel with his friends and little brother?”

“What’s his name?”

“Callum Evans.”

“Katolis Squad!” Corvus smiled, clapping his hands together.

“You know them?”

“Of course. They do a lot of food stuff. I found this café because of one of their videos. Also, my boyfriend’s a baker, remember? Ezran and Claudia do a series on baking and sweets and he likes to watch them. Callum Evans is also kind of known in the art scene in town and I’ve met his aunt a few times. Lovely lady, so’s her wife.”

“Huh. Apparently, I’m out of it.”

“You just arrived in Katolis last year. I grew up here. You remember my boyfriend’s beignets you liked so much?”

“Those were delicious.”

“Ezran’s recipe. His grandmother’s friend was from Louisiana and she taught him how to make them like it’s done in the French-Quarter.”

“Huh. So, you’ll come with me?”

“Sure. Callum Evans seems harmless, but since he already approved it, might as well take advantage.”

“Agreed. I can take care of myself, but, you never know.”

“Where’s it going to be?”

“At his house. He said he has an art studio there. At least, that’s what he implied. I’m waiting for a text from him to iron out the details.”

“Maybe he’ll ask to draw you nude?” Rayla flushed red at that, looking down at her almost finished breakfast. “Oh? Something you want to share with the class? A reason you were distracted during kickboxing last night, perhaps?”

Rayla glared up at him, taking a few harsh bites of her omelet. She swallowed, keeping eye contact with him. “He’s cute, I’m single, that’s it.”

“He’s single.” Rayla paused. “He broke-up with his last girlfriend months ago. She made a big Instagram post about it, saying they wanted to focus on their careers. Which was weird because no one even knew they were in a relationship.”

“So, he’s probably used to people trying to use him for fame.”

“Most likely. He keeps to himself.”

“I saw that when I went digging online. His step-father’s the governor and his mother was in the military for a few years, rising through the ranks very quickly.”

“Yeah. They try to keep their channel separate from all that, though. People are always asking them questions about it and they’ll either ignore it or say they aren’t a mouthpiece for Harrow Williams.”

“Fair. I’ll text you the details. I’ve got my coffee, gotta go.” Rayla put a $20 on the table and waved good-bye to Corvus, leaving to head to the office. Well, this just got even more interesting, didn’t it?

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Callum rubbed his eyes as he looked up at the ceiling. All night, he had dreamed of Rayla. Her white hair down and around bare shoulders, purple eyes starting deep into his. ‘Come on, Callum. Make me feel good.’ He tossed and turned in his bed, suddenly thankful for the fact he lived alone. His cock was at attention and it was not going to be going down any time soon. Rolling out of bed, he took his sleep clothes off as he made his was to his shower. He winced at the cold water, but sighing in relief as his erection went down. He had no time to rub one out. He was already running late for his meeting with Ezran, Soren, and Claudia. They had to go over whether or not to actually hire a crew now that their channel had six million subscribers.

It would be a smart move. Claudia’s home-made beauty series was getting a lot of attention, as were her and Ez’s baking series. Soren and Ezran’s sub channel and Twitch channel was getting a lot of attention in the video game community for their let’s plays and commentary. Even Callum’s art sub channel was getting more and more attention. He was just worried about going bigger because, if they did, what if drama followed? It had been a PR nightmare when his ex-girlfriend had posted on Instagram about going their separate ways for their careers. Callum had asked her to keep it between them because he wanted to keep his personal life and his YouTube life separate. She had apparently felt that, after they broke-up, what he wanted didn’t matter.

As he quickly ate breakfast, he couldn’t get the idea of Rayla from his dreams or of her in a forest out of his head. Those eyes haunted his every though. ‘She’s a freaking fae. That must be it.’ Callum rubbed his eyes again, sighing. He sent a quick text to Rayla asking if she would be alright with her modeling for him in the woods outside of town. She would probably say ‘no’, but Callum needed to get this image out of his head and out of his system. He had just met her and she was distracting him already. Still, Callum wasn’t so sure he could ever get someone like her out of his system. Even if they had sex a week straight, he would probably still crave her. ‘Stop getting ahead of yourself, Callum. She’s probably in a relationship, you just want to draw her, and you have other things to focus on right now.’

All day, as the group discussed the benefits to do YouTube full-time, barring Ezran because he was still in college, a Scottish accent and a pair of soft eyes stayed in the back of his mind. Beckoning him to find her and take her under a waterfall in the forest. Would she scratch and like it rough or did she like to go soft and slow, like a wave?

Ezran snapped his fingers in his face. “Callum, focus.”

“Right. So, I think taking a step forward is a good idea….” He didn’t have time to be thinking about faeries in suits from Scotland.

#rayllum #rayllum fanfic #tdp #the dragon prince #au #replay #moonbase fanfics

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lovemollywho · 4 years ago

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Bitter Rivals - Two

Previous Chapter

AN: Sorry this took a lot longer than anticipated! Originally I didn’t think that everyone was going to want a continuation but now I have more of a storyline in my head so there will be more chapters after this! Enjoy!

The following week after Aelin’s little present passed in a blur, but every so often Aelin would think back to the look on his face when he read the words on the chocolate and smile. However, she did have to find a new hiding spot for her sweets other than the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet. Rowan had sent a couple of emails to Aelin throughout the week, setting up meeting dates and mentioning similar past cases but she wanted to be a step ahead of Rowan at all cost, so she picked up the phone and got to work.

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“Mr. Whitethorn?” Rowan picked up his head from his computer screen to see his secretary stand in the middle of his door frame holding a box of case files that he had requested. It looked heavy so Rowan got up from his desk to help.

“Thank you Remelle,” Rowan said, placing the box on a coffee table, opening the contents, and shifting through the files. “Will you let Miss. Galathynius know that I would like to meet up sometime tomorrow around lunch if she has the time. I want to split these case files before the meeting with Mr. Havilliard.” Remelle pulled her iPad up to look through both his and Aelin’s calendars.

“Miss. Galanthynius cannot do tomorrow sir.” “Today then?” He asked. It was last minute but if she wanted to be petty about the chocolates he could be petty too.

Remelle shook her head. Rowan could feel himself getting frustrated with the beautiful blond woman. He really hadn’t meant to eat her chocolate but it had been a long day and while Rowan usually wasn’t one for sweets he had an intense craving. Seeing the bitter dark chocolate in the glass container wasn’t going to do the trick but if he had known that this was how she was going to act over something so trivial then he wouldn’t have bothered.

“Okay, well she’ll feel foolish when I walk into the Havilliard meeting with amazing suggestions, then the partnership will be good as mine. Remelle can you confer with Miss. Galanthynius’s secretary and set up a meeting sometime next week, and can you send for Miss. Lochan as soon as she can. Thank you.” Rowan continued to look through the box of files when he saw Remelle still standing in the doorway.

“That will be all,” Rowan said but Remelle shifted slightly from foot to foot looking nervous. Rowan narrowed his eyes. “What is it?”

“Sir, the reason that Miss. Galanthynius can’t do a meeting today or tomorrow is because she already has lunch dates with Mr. Havilliards team today and a meeting with Mr. Havilliard himself tomorrow.” Rowan saw red. He marched out of his office to the elevator, people in the hallway moved out of his way knowing that he was a man on a mission. He all but threw the door open to find Aelin standing, hunched over her desk writing something on a legal pad with her phone to her ear. Despite the loud noise that Rowan had made opening the door she never glanced up, continuing to write and even smiling at whatever was said by the person on the line. When she finished writing she looked up to Rowan, eyes flicking to his briefly before she turned her back on him to face the window.

The absolute nerve of this woman. Rowan was furious, he was angry. All this attitude over chocolate? Rowan decided then and there that she was nothing more than a spoiled child “Alright, but I don’t want Judge Zane see if we can switch to the judge that was on the Kozack case.” She nodded her head in agreement. “Alright I will see you Friday then?” She paused. “Great, bye.” She hung up the phone and turned to face Rowan placing a bright smile on her face.

“Yes, Mr. Whitethorn?” Her tone was light and it only added to Rowan’s frustration. Aelin started gathering things that she needed, checking her phone before looking up to Rowan waiting for an answer. She raised an eyebrow and Rowan was caught momentarily off guard at how good she looked. She was wearing a white vest with a long gold necklace that only highlighted her cleavage, with tailored white pants that fit the curve of her hips so well, ending with red suede stilettos that matched the matte red lipstick she was wearing. She wore her sexuality like a weapon that she had mastered, taking no prisoners as she dived a knife into your heart.

“Were you planning on telling me about your lunch meetings?” Rowan asked after a second too long.

“Oh that.” Aelin said, brushing past him to place the things she gathered into what looked to be an expensive tote bag. “They wanted to meet as soon as possible and you didn’t have anything open until at least two weeks from now. I took the initiative and set up the meetings.”

“We’re supposed to be working together Miss. Galanthynius.” Rowan said, trying to release some of the tension in his jaw. Aelin smirked. “Which is why I told Clarisse and Arobynn that you greenlit the meetings after we discussed your very busy schedule and workload. Poor Clarisse was worried that maybe you were taking on too much, but I told her that I had everything handled and that you would catch up when you could.”

“You did what?” Aelin smiled and shrugged. “If you’ll excuse me Mr. Whitethorn I have a lunch meeting to get to.” She left him standing in her office, a cross of anger, confusion, and amusement dancing on his face. This game wasn’t over by a long shot.

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The meeting with Dorian Havilliard’s team went as well as could be expected but it was the lunch meeting today that had Aelin bouncing in her seat with excitement. True to her word she had sent an email to Rowan updating him with the notes that she had taken but hadn’t received an email back. That was fine with her, she had the high ground so far, and as long as she kept it the partnership would be hers. He had looked sexy storming into her office, but she had long perfected her poker face and wouldn’t let the sight of him phase her. There was a ping from her computer notifying her that she had received an interoffice message.

RWhitethorn: Thank you for catching me up. I’ve marked some of the case files you mentioned with notes that are attached. Let’s set up a meeting together to go over it before we meet with Dorian Havilliard again next week.

AGalanthynius: Perfect. I’ll look over it before I head to lunch with Mr. Havilliard. Monday work for you?

RWhitethorn: 10 am?

AGalanthynius: Perfect. I’ll put it on my calendar.

Aelin looked over Rowan’s notes and had to admire the information that he offered. If they weren’t up for the same promotion Aelin would have loved to sit down and ask Rowan questions about his past cases. He clearly was talented and attractive but that wouldn’t distract Aelin from the goals that she had in life. She made her own notes for the meeting before glancing at the clock and realizing that she had to leave if she was going to make it to her lunch meeting with Dorain on time.

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

“Mr. Whitethorn I have a lady here from Snowleapord Bakery.” Rowan smiled before getting up from his desk and buttoning the front of his suit jacket. Standing before him was a beautiful woman with dark brown hair and striking green eyes. She was dressed in a white shirt and jeans, the kind of casual chic that you see celebrities wearing that every woman tried to pull off. She was holding an iPad typing something in when Rowan stepped up to her.

“Rowan Whitethorn I presume?” The woman asked. Rowan nodded his head and offered her a smile, one that had been known to charm the pants off of most people. The woman smirked and offered her hand. “I’m Lysandra.” Rowan took her hand and shook it. “Oh I didn’t know that the bakery owner was going to deliver the order herself.”

Lysandra went back to typing something on her iPad. “My best friend works here and usually orders things for the office. I figure I would drop off your order and then go say hi.” She offered the iPad to him. “I just need you to sign here and then I can unload everything.”

Rowan took the iPad from here. “Who’s your friend?” He signed his name and handed the device back to her.

“Aelin Galanthynius. In fact she ordered chocolates from me for a coworker. Was that you?” Lysandra said and Rowan felt his shoulders stiffen but tried to brush it off with a smile.

“Yes, they were delicious, thank you.” Lysandra looked at him for a couple of seconds smiling pushing her tongue to the top of her teeth. “Uh-huh.” Was all she said, clearly knowing that Rowan was lying but played along to help him save face.

“Anyway, I’ll just go unload this chocolate buffet of items that you bought and then go say hi to Aelin.”

“Miss. Galathynius isn’t here I’m afraid.” Rowan said, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Oh? When is she coming back, do you know?”

“Sometime after 2pm I think.”

“Mr. Whitethorn, you told me the treats were only needed from noon to 2 pm, am I to understand that Aelin will not be here to enjoy the things I’ve made?” Rowan brought one hand out his pocket and rubbed his thumb on his bottom lip. Lysandra huffed out a small laugh, “You know I have to at least tell her what she’s missing right?” Rowan sighed and nodded.

“I didn’t know you had close ties with her, or else I would have asked another bakery.” Lysandra laughed a little, placing a comforting hand before pulling out her phone and walking away.

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

Aelin’s phone buzzed on the table slightly right as Dorain Havilliard walked up to where she was sitting. He was handsome in the way that anyone with dark hair and blue eyes was always handsome, but his smile made Aelin’s heart squeeze, there was beautiful and then there was breathtaking.

“Miss. Galanthynius?” Dorian held out his hand for Aelin to bring her hand to his mouth and placed a kiss on the back of her knuckles.

“Mr. Havilliard, thank you for taking the time to meet with me,” Aelin said, offering him a smile and gesturing for him to sit down.

“No, thank you. I understand that Mr. Whitethorn won’t be able to join us, I know that this meeting was last minute.” Aelin’s phone flashed with a notification but when she saw it was from Lysandra she turned the ringer down and placed her phone in her bag.

“So, Mr. Havilliard do you have any recommendations?” Aelin asked, picking up her menu.

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

The meeting with Dorian went as perfectly as Aelin could have planned. As the son of one of the most profitable export companies, the case between father and son was complicated, intriguing, and fascinating. She had mentioned some of the notes that Rowan had given her and was surprised at how well Dorian followed along. Surprisingly enough, Aelin couldn’t wait to tell Rowan everything that she had learned, wanting to get to work as soon as possible as she had a really good feeling that they could win this case together. Granted she knew that there were things that needed to be finessed but between her and Rowan she wasn’t too worried. Aelin got out as her driver pulled up outside of the building and remembered that Lysandra had sent her a text before her lunch meeting.

Best Bitch: Don’t get mad, I didn’t know you weren’t going to be in the office today Best Bitch: Also why didn’t you tell me how HOT Rowan Whitethorn was?!?!?!?!? Best Bitch: As your best friend I feel obligated to tell you that if I wasn’t happily dating your cousin I would want a date with that man ASAP Best Bitch: that jawline though Best Bitch: a n y w a y Best Bitch: Like I said I didn’t know, I thought he was waving the white flag

?????????????? What are you talking about?????? Also, he can’t be hot! Hes the ENEMY!

Aelin walked into the office super confused. Lysandra had yet to text her back but when she walked into the office kitchen to get something to drink she froze.

“What the fuck?” she whispered under her breath. The kitchen trash was overfilled with Lysandra’s green boxes, some were stacked on the side empty, the remains of a chocolate fountain on one of the tables. At least a 100 boxes were in the kitchen alone but Aelin knew that people would take boxes of Lys’s baked goods back to their offices to enjoy them later.

She grabbed a bottled water out of the fridge and pulled out her phone to send a text to Lysandra.

What the F U C K?!?!?! HOW MUCH DID YOU BRING? THERE’S NOTHING LEFT LYS!

Best Bitch: I’M SORRY! Best Bitch: I already have some brownies with your name on it at my apartment! Best Bitch: Come over after work? Best Bitch: I’ll kick Aedion out and we can get wine drunk?

Aelin sent back a GIF of someone raising a wine glass and headed back to her office. She couldn’t believe that Rowan had bought the entire office a sugar feast filled with chocolaty goodness and she hadn’t even been a part of it. That fucker knew she would be out of the office, this wasn’t a coincidence, this had been planned. When Aelin walked into her office, sitting on her desk was a green box with a white ribbon wrapped around it. Aelin felt some of her anger resign as she placed her bags down and went to her desk. He had left her something, maybe it was time for a cease-fire. After all, promotion or not she should still try to get along with the buzzard.

Aelin opened the box to find chocolate bark, the same kind that Rowan had eaten in the first place. Perhaps this was an apology for eating hers the other day. Aelin turned on her computer with a smile on her face, ready to shoot an email to Rowan thanking him. While she waited for her computer to load she grabbed one of the pieces of chocolate and took a huge bite out of it only for bitterness to explored in her mouth. Aelin spit out the chocolate and took a giant swig of her water. That fucker!

Inside the box was a folded up piece of paper, Aelin unfolded it to see two words written on it.

Game on.

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

Tag list:

@safewithintheheart @acer6437 @starseternalnighttriumphant @bamchickawowow @westofmoon @rowaelin-cressworth @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @flowerspringsea @aelinchocolatelover @tswaney17 @yeah-just-ignore-me-thanks @rolltide7 @queen-of-glass @cool-ish-nerd @acourtofmoonlight @rowanelinforeverworld

Let me know if you want to be tagged <3

#Bitter Rivals #Bitter Rivals 2 #rowan x aelin #rowaelin #throne of glass #Throne of Glass series #My writing

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mrsbhandari · 4 years ago

Text

Shutter - Part 2

a/n: HI it me!! i don’t really have much to say lmao, but i hope you like it!! also the cover of vogue looks like this, by the lovely @lxdy-starfury, and is like the entire inspiration behind this fic so yee!

warnings: some language but that’s really it

words: 2k

tags: @lxdy-starfury, @huntress1024, @anotherbeingsworld, @brightpinkpeppercorn, @chaotic-ramsay-queen

“Can you believe I got his number?”

“You what?”

“We talked a little bit after the shoot.” Nia guiltily fidgeted with her tea cup, her ring making small clicks against the porcelain.

“Okay, talking is very much different from getting his number. You have a billionaire’s phone number.” Incredulous, Naexi sat back in the plush seat of the book store lounge area, shaking her head. “So now what? Is he gonna be your sugar daddy?”

“What?! No!” Nia blushed furiously. “I don’t like him...that way.”

“Sure. And I didn’t just get credited with the cover of Vogue.”

“Congratulations, by the way.” Nia tried to change the subject, which Naexi picked up on and allowed. Nia grabbed the latest issue of Vogue off the table in front of them, admiring the glossy cover of Tyril with his hair in a messy ponytail and a somber look behind his glasses. “He was...unexpected, though?”

“What do you mean?”

“I expected him to be like all of those aloof and distant love interests in romance novels.”

“And how did he seem to you?”

“He was really sweet! Super warm, like you could just talk to him all day about everything and he would totally understand.” Naexi hummed, looking down into her coffee. “What? How did he seem to you?”

“I’m...not sure.” She shook her head and looked back up to her friend, giving an easy smile. “He felt nice enough, but I totally bet it’s all some act. He’s definitely a vampire.”

“At least he’s attractive.”

Naexi sent a glance down to the magazine. “Maybe.”

“So what I’m getting from this is...you’re in love?”

“That’s absurd! I am in nothing of the sort.” Tyril sat straight up in his chair, which was a direct contrast to Mal, whose feet were spread as he lounged lazily in the wire seat. Despite the cold, they sat in the outside seating section of a small cafe, right near small space heaters set up by the table. “I never said anything about even liking the woman--”

“Alright, alright, chill out. I was only joking, but it sure seems like I might’ve been right.” Mal sent a smug smile over the table and raised an eyebrow.

“What are you talking about?”

“Dude, you want to impress her? You want her approval? You noticed the smell of her lotion? I diagnose you with love, bud.” He crossed his arms and briefly glanced towards his bike that was parked across the street; a car seemed to be driving kind of close to it. When he returned his gaze to Tyril, his friend was pensively staring at the half-eaten pastry on his plate and chewing on his nail. Reaching across the table, Mal plucked Tyril’s hand out of his mouth and held it on the table top to get him to stop. “It’s not a bad thing.”

“I don’t have time for it, though. That’s the problem.”

“C’mon, Ty. We both know that’s bullshit. You’re into her, but you’re afraid of getting hurt and don’t want to take a risk.” Mal squeezed his friend’s hand. “I agree that what happened with Kaya sucked, but you have to be willing to step back out on the edge to see the view, even if you might fall.”

“Poetry is supposed to be my thing, Volari.”

“What, I’m not allowed to be romantic?” He batted his eyelashes and placed a hand under his chin, prompting a small smile from Tyril.

“Not with that haircut, you’re not.”

“Hey!”

“Um…” Naexi cautiously eyed the large vase of flowers on her desk, tapping her coworker Belana on the shoulder before approaching the tulips. “What is this? Who delivered these?”

“Well, they look a lot like tulips and a delivery guy just came with them about ten minutes ago. Who’s the admirer?” Belana wiggled her eyebrows, laughing when Naexi shoved her shoulder.

“As if I know.” She set her bag down and dug through the jungle of vibrant red to find a small card. The gold inscription read “When I’m around you, I lose my focus,” paired with a tiny drawing of camera in simple black ink. It wasn’t signed.

“Well?”

“I have no clue what to make of it.” She handed the card to Belana, who burst out laughing at the joke.

“That’s a good one! Because you’re a photographer!”

“No, stop, please. My stomach hurts from laughing so hard.” Snatching the card back, she read it again before pushing the vase to a miraculously unoccupied corner of her desk and placing the card in one of her frames, the one housing the picture of Nia and her on a work trip in Paris. Nia was a bookkeeper at a small bookstore, but she abused the hell out of Vogue’s plus one policy on trips. She grabbed her phone and found Nia’s text conversation quickly, typing out a short message asking about the flowers.

NIA: that’s so weird! I have no clue who could have sent them.

Nia definitely had a clue who could have sent them. She had so much of a clue, in fact, that she scrolled down to her conversation with Tyril, the exact person who sent them.

NIA ELLARIOUS: She got them! And she doesn’t know who sent them.

TYRIL STARFURY: Did she like them?

NIA ELLARIOUS: Hm, I’m not sure. She didn’t say anything about them, just that she wasn’t sure who they were from. We’re having lunch today, I can ask her then.

TYRIL STARFURY : I can’t thank you enough! I hope this isn’t awkward, being somewhat of a spy for your friend.

NIA ELLARIOUS: Of course not! I think it’s incredibly sweet what you’re doing.

TYRIL STARFURY: Thank you, I’m very nervous about it working.

NIA ELLARIOUS: Don’t be! It will all work out, I can promise you that.

TYRIL STARFURY: Thank you.

Nia slipped her phone into an apron pocket and went back to humming as she dusted the shelves.

“I’ve probably gained twenty pounds since you’ve started working here. These pastries are to die for,” Naexi moaned as she bit into her chocolate croissant, savoring the flakiness of the breading that practically melted in her mouth.

“Me, too,” Nia sighed, nervously fidgeting with her apron.

“What’s got you all nervous?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing!” She offered a shaky smile, which did nothing to squash Naexi’s suspicions.

“So we’re lying to each other now?”

“No, of course not!” Nia struggled to come up with a believable lie that could easily segue into talking about the flowers. “I’m just still trying to think who would’ve sent you flowers today. Very odd.”

“To be honest, I kind of forgot about them.”

“Really?!” Nia set down her teacup before she had the chance to drop it. “I know if someone sent me flowers, I would be thinking about it for the rest of the day.” Naexi hummed. “What?”

“Now that I’m thinking about it again, it is kind of weird. I haven’t been dating in a while, so who could’ve done it? And obviously they were sent by someone who barely knows me, because the joke was….not my style.”

Smirking, Nia spoke before she could stop herself. “Maybe that’s why you’re so cranky. You need to put yourself out there more.”

After a small moment of silence seemed to be occupied by Naexi’s thoughts, she waved her hands. “I think not. No significant other is going to keep me from being my grouchy self. Sorry to disappoint.”

Nia threw her arm around her friend’s shoulder. “I’d never want you to change.” For the rest of her lunch break, the two girls sat and talked while watching people pass outside the window of the store. As soon as Naexi left, Nia eagerly fished out her phone and found Tyril’s text conversation.

“I shouldn’t have gone with that inscription.” Tyril was pacing back and forth in his office between where Imtura sat in one chair and Mal sat in another. He was chewing on his nail again, and Mal stood to take his hand away again. He sat back down in his chair with a firm grip on Tyril’s hand, limiting the length of the billionaire’s pacing while still not stopping it.

“Will you stop panicking? I’m sure the girl loved it,” Imtura reassured, barely looking up from her phone. “It was a pretty funny joke.”

“But what if she doesn’t like jokes?!” Tyril exclaimed, running a hand through his hair and pulling some pieces out of its tidy half-up do.

“Ty!” Mal stood and grabbed his friend’s other hand, forcing him to stop and look at him. “I’ve never seen you like this. C’mon, talk to me.”

“I’ve just never done something like this. Flirting and relationships and what have you....It’s all foreign to me. I want to make sure it’s perfect.” He jumped as his phone went off in his pocket.

NIA ELLARIOUS: She still doesn’t have any idea who sent the flowers, but she doesn’t really like puns. Especially about her job.

TYRIL STARFURY: That is...most unfortunate. Thank you so much for your help.

NIA ELLARIOUS: Would you like to come by the shop and have lunch with me on Thursday?

He looked at the date; It was Tuesday.

TYRIL STARFURY: I would love to.

NIA ELLARIOUS: See you then!

“I knew I shouldn’t have gone with your idea, Mal.”

“She didn’t like the joke? Sounds like this girl’s a real snooze, if you ask me.”

“Good thing he’s not,” Imtura joked, dodging a punch from Mal.

“Well, Nia invited me to lunch with her on Thursday--” He was cut off by his phone ringing, his father’s contact flashing on the screen. “Pardon. Hello, Father?”

“Tyril, I hope you are doing well.”

“You as well, Father. To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?” In his seat, Mal cringed at the formalities.

“I’ve sent the information to your email, but I wanted to remind you directly about a charity gala I’m hosting next week, for the company.”

Mal rolled his eyes, but Tyril snapped his fingers and gave him a stern look, akin to a mother scolding a child. “Yes, of course.”

“Your sister has a date, so I would have to ask you to bring one as well. It would look good for the company.” Tyril opened his mouth to speak, but his father beat him to it. “Mal is already invited as a high ranking member of the company, therefore he cannot count as your plus one.”

“Yes, sir. I will find a date for your gala.”

“Thank you, Tyril. Goodbye.”

“Good bye.” Tyril continued to look at the phone, even after his father hung up.

“Well.” Clapping his hands together, Mal stood up and sighed, placing his hands on his hips and swiveling his body to crack his back. “He’s even more of a snooze than the girl.”

“Are you kidding me? Again?!” Naexi exclaimed, throwing her bag down on her chair since her desk was occupied by yet another large vase of flowers, this time peach dahlias. “Who is doing this?” Belana peeked over to her coworker’s desk, whistling at the sight of the large collection of flowers.

“Damn! Wait, what logo is on the card?” Naexi fished the card out.

“It says it’s from a place called Loola’s.” While Belana typed something into her laptop, Naexi read the card aloud. “‘For a woman with a unique view of the world and the means to capture it.’”

“Holy shit!”

“I don’t think it’s that good, but I--”

“Not that. I looked up a bouquet of peach dahlias from Loola’s and it looks like that one cost about a hundred and ten bucks.”

Naexi blinked. “It still isn’t signed. I don’t…” she trailed off, looking again at the bouquet before whipping out her phone and texting Nia.

NIA: Wow, another one?

NAEXI: Yeah! Belana says it cost 100$

Despite knowing who sent it, Nia’s eyes still widened at her phone.

NIA: Seriously?! Any idea who it’s from yet?

NAEXI: Nope.

NIA: We can brainstorm tomorrow over lunch.

#tyril #tyril starfury #choices tyril #blades au #choices blades #blades of light and shadow

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