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jarofstyles · 4 years

Text

Crush

A/N: this one.... biiiitch.... giving you all a little college!harry, he’s so cute 👉🏼👈🏼 enjoy hehe 😈 - n + d

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pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: smut. FILTH.

word count: 9.7k

Harry felt a bit creepy.

It wasn’t as if it was on purpose! No... but she was at all of the places he went. At first he had thought it was a coincidence, but as he developed a routine for his classes, he found that they were often around each other for similar reasons. And usually? He would try and go up, introduce himself, and make a friend. The problem was... she was pretty.

Not like normal pretty. Pretty as in, holy fuck you make me so nervous and perhaps I’ll word vomit, pretty. He was shit at making the first move. She was in his Monday and Friday classes and sat not far from him, he noticed. And they always ended up at the Coffee Bean on Tuesday and Thursdays, sitting not too far from one another again. She got tea with a few cookies, and he got a black coffee and an orange scone. They’d work on their coursework and Harry would wait for her to leave and see her make it to her car before he would leave, not wanting to make it seem like he was following her. He’s found out her name through friends stopping in to see her. It was Y/N. Gorgeous, just like her.

Funny enough, Harry wasn’t the only one who had a bit of a crush. Y/N realized in the second week of classes that Harry was in fact one of the most intimidatingly cool and attractive men she’d ever seen. College boys weren’t supposed to look like that, but he was all soft in his sweaters and baggy pants. She wasn’t sure how he pulled it off so well, but she could admit she was jealous.

Seeing him at the Coffee bean was a relief because well, he walked in after her every time. She assumed it was because he had a class that ended later or something, but it didn’t go unnoticed that he was there. Usually it wasn’t too busy or loud so she could glance at him from the corner of her eye as they sat at one of the big tables. She felt like it would be too weird to talk to him, he seemed so... quiet. She’d never heard him speak, hell, she’d only ever locked eyes with him for milliseconds. Y/N wished she could be one of those girls that could effortlessly flirt, ask for a pencil or something, but she knew she’d freeze up and forget her rehearsed line.

Today however, when Y/N arrived, Harry was already there at his usual spot. Okay, Y/N... act natural. She thought to herself, going to order her usual before walking to boldly take a seat across from him. It would have worked out fine if her tote bag didn’t accidentally catch the corner of one of his books, sending things flying.

“Shit— sorry, I—” Y/N swore, setting her bag on the table before bending down to get the book and a few papers and a pen. Real smooth.

Harry was slightly startled when his shit went flying, but when he saw who had knocked it over, his heart picked up. Oh, shit.

“Oh— it’s okay, don’t worry about it.” Harry’s voice was a bit gruff from not using it much today, pushing his chair back and bending down to grab the stuff with her. “S’my fault for putting it so close to the edge. I used to do that at home and my cat would knock it all off.”

Great. Already rambling.

Y/N didn’t register it at first, but he was british? Fuck. If she wasn’t already on her knees she would dropped down anyway, biting her lip to stop any noises that could have escaped. She giggled when he said his cat used to knock things over, “mine too.” She mumbled and went to stand up, feeling a tug at her arm.

“Ah, shit.” Harry had caught his ring in her sweater, pulling one of the threads. “Damn, I’m so sorry.” He blushed slightly, knowing how annoying it was to have a pulled thread. His collection of sweaters was immense, thanks to his nan— and he felt terrible. Damn his chunky things. “They always get caught in mine too but I wear them anyways. I can replace the sweater, if you need.” Damn it. He was trying to come off as smooth... not so nervous. But he was. She was so pretty and she was up close, she smelled like peaches and vanilla and a bit of sweet mint and her hands were so soft.

“Oh no, It’s fine! it’s old anyway— I can just cut it off or tuck it in or something.” Honestly, Y/N would figure it out. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel bad, it was an accident after all. She let him untangle it, holding her hand still though it seemed like he needed some help. “Smaller fingers...” She mumbled, using her nails to get the thread gently off of the ring. “‘s a nice ring.” Y/N complimented, finally meeting his eyes and feeling the breath leave her lungs at the close proximity. Her lips parted naturally, scanning his face for any signs of discomfort.

She was beautiful Harry though he may get sick because wow. Wow. He had imagined holding her hand and kissing her but this exact moment he hadn’t a clue on what to do. So he improvised.

“Are you in the 8 am psych class on Mondays?” He tilted his head. “I know I’ve seen you before.” Oh, he had seen her a lot. Especially in his dreams, day and night. It had been a bit intoxicating, really. At her nod, his grin came on his face. “Sick. S’that what you’re gonna study for?” He didn’t bring up the other class because... it would be embarrassing if she hadn’t noticed him before and he knew all too much. He needed a refill of his coffee though so he grabbed his cup, gently taking her things and placing them on the table next to his. “At least let me buy your stuff though. I feel awful about your sweater.”

“I’m actually just waiting on them to finish making mine, I was on my way to secure a spot but—” Y/N blushed, realizing the mess she had made. “Could you get it for me while you’re up there? It’s for Y/N. I can sit here and watch your stuff.” She felt like that was a subtle way for her to tell him her name.

This was the most she had ever spoken to him and it had been about a month or so that she’d been eyeing him up. She knew he was in her English literature class as well, but psych was her major. Y/N wondered if maybe he too was a psych major, maybe that’s why they sort of had the same schedule? Regardless, she felt a bit nervous making conversation so she spent the time he was away coming up with what she was going to ask him and how she was going to keep the ball rolling. Hopefully she didn’t interrupt his studying, if anything she’d leave him alone.

“Y/N?” He tested it on his tongue out loud for the first time. It tasted good. “Yeah. M’Harry. I’ll be back.” He nodded, going towards the front. His heart going a mile a minute, he couldn’t believe how quickly his luck had changed. He ordered an extra cake pop today, for her. she had said it didn’t matter but to him, it did. Eventually he hoped he could buy her a replacement. Or... maybe she could wear his around. Wow. That would stroke his ego and his fragile heart to the core. He could already see her on his lavender fishermen’s sweater, in front of his fireplace back at home. She would be so cute. The voice calling her name snapped him out of the fantasy, Harry grabbing it and then his own shortly after before returning to the table. “Here. I got the last cake pop for you. Don’t tell anyone I’m the offender.”

“Ooo you’re a dead man if they find out.” Y/N said, looking around before gently taking it from him. “Thank you... that’s sweet.” She blushed, taking a bite of it before taking a sip of her chai latte. Now that she had stuff to fiddle around with she could take a breather and not have to worry about filling space. “But um.. did interrupt something? Don’t want to distract you...” Y/N nodded over to his laptop, secretly hoping that he wasn’t up to much so that she could chat to him. She just wanted to know the basics, literally anything would satisfy her craving. Harry was quite literally her wet dream, she’d been looking all around campus for someone like him to come around. “I uh... I think I’m also in your English lit class? I feel like I see you around often.” Y/N spoke, pushing a piece of her hair behind her ear. “What’s your major?” She felt like this conversation was light, something that would eventually lead into other things like... if he was single and looking for a girlfriend.

“Oh, you’re not bugging me. I’ve kind of been staring at the screen and zoning out if m’honest.” Harry chuckled, embarrassed a little to admit it. But everyone could relate to that, right? “And yeah... actually I think so.” He smiled lightly before taking a sip of his drink. Victory! She had noticed him too. He wasn’t the lonely creep who stared at the first who had no idea who he was. She knew who he was, kind of. He gently drew his sweater over his hands like little paws before going to her question. “English. I want to write and stuff, edit maybe. My dad has a publishing company so, I’m lucky I like a bit of the family business.” He tried to joke, looking at her. God. It was unnerving how beautiful and also, how fucking comfortable she was to be around. What a contrast. “And you? What major?” He took a nibble of his scone, not wanting to make a mess.

English? He’s a writer? Goodness. She was going to lose it.

“That’s cool, any specific genre you like to write?” Y/N asked curiously because well, it would actually tell her a lot about him and the kind of person he was. “I picture some mystery or possibly poetry, could go either way.” She said and squinted her eyes as she looked at him, pretending to size him up. “I can’t say I’m all that interesting, a psych major. Just like every other artsy person who doesn’t exactly want to commit to an art degree.” Y/N chuckled, “still deciding between criminal justice or counseling but... either way I’d be happy to get to pick someone’s brain. She did have the habit of analyzing people but only so she could understand them better. Y/N knew that all people wanted at the core was to be understood and loved for who they are, for the most part. Harry seemed reserved, calm and relaxed, secure in himself that’s for sure. It was extremely attractive.

“Oh? That’s really cool though.” Harry was genuinely interested in what she had to say either way. The major didn’t matter in his interest in her but it gave him information and something to talk about. If she was marketing or math he would be just as interested. “Criminal seems particularly interesting. Like that criminal minds show then? You’ll learn how they work and all of that?” He didn’t really know what it meant or why she had chosen it. “But close. I write romance novels.” He blushed fully. “Don’t judge me for it. But s’easy for me and I’m good at it, or so I’ve been told. I’ve been writing for a while.” He felt himself loosen up as they talked. Even if she intimidated him, she was really nice and sweet. “Poetry too, lots of it. But romance is my main thing, I’d like to do novels and that sort of stuff.” He could see she didn’t think it was lame, rather interesting. Which was a major relief. He wanted to impress her, so so badly.

“Sorta, yeah. Like... being able to predict a criminal's next move, psychologically.” Y/N explained and shrugged, “feel like it’s really fun and interesting but terrifying all at once. Dunno if I could actually interview a criminal without feeling like it was going to cry.” She let out a laugh, knowing she was quite soft. Her face lit up when he said he wrote romance novels. Wow. Well, as if he wasn’t a character right out of a romcom himself! She felt like that’s what this was. A romcom. Bumping into him at a coffee shop like a scene straight from one. “Really?! So you’re a proper romantic then? Buy the last cake pop for every girl, hmm?” She gave him a bashful smile. The very last thing she was doing was judge, she was more so thinking about their wedding. Yep. Already. Daydreaming because she swore she’d hit the jackpot. Wasn’t even sure if he liked her yet, but she was hopeful. After all, she’d turned on her charm.

“I guess I am.” Harry smirked to himself slightly at the good reception. Damn. He had been so worried and hesitant- he should have just talked to her. She wasn’t... that scary. Only a little bit.

He let her talk a bit more about her degree and Harry went on to speak about his favorite authors, and then the conversation shifted towards their classes and how he had been struggling slightly in psych— which led to her offering to help. Harry was shocked because honestly he hadn’t expected it from her, but he was pleased. He was happy to have an excuse to hang out with her more. See more of her and be able to teach himself to relax properly around her. He felt like a damn wind up toy, giddy and excited.

“That would be so helpful, if you could. And if you don’t mind.” He stressed. “I have a place off campus, if you’d want to go there? I’ll buy you some pizza or something for your help.” He was a giver and if it meant getting a $20 pizza for her because he wanted good quality, then he would!

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Y/N was practically jumping up and down with joy in her mind, this was a turn of events. She went from secretly crushing on him to being invited over his house in only a few hours. “I can never say no to pizza, but it’s really no problem. They say if you can teach it to someone else then you truly understand it so it’ll be a good test for me. Y/N also knew that they wouldn’t just study. Come on. It was a Friday night and study was practically code for hook up, especially considering he had invited her to his place and not the library. She had to prepare, had to make sure she looked cute and everything. She’d shower before hand too, the whole nine. “I can be there around 6?” Y/N suggested, checking her calendar app even though she already knew when she could come. She had to at least look like she wasn’t jumping at the idea.

“That’s cool. Uh— here, if you want I can put my number in your phone and whenever you want I can text you the address?” Oh, fuck. How, how the tables have turned. He had gone from wistfully staring at her every day to having a scheduled study session with her, the girl he’d been practically having wet dreams about. Having a full conversation and then her having his number! He was giddy and playing with the sleeves of his sweater as a result of the excited nerves. “Do you have any allergies? I do have a kitten at home.” He wanted to make sure he wouldn’t have to put Marie away. He loved his baby but he wanted to try something and see if she would be cool with him in a private setting. It would be less hard to talk about deeper things without people around. He took her phone from her and typed in his number, adding his name with a little 📚 after it. That wasn’t too much, right?

“Aw you do! I have one too, well... he thinks he’s a big boy.” Y/N shook her head at the thought of her sweet little Milo. Despite not doing anything she planned to do at the coffee shop, it still felt like a productive day in her eyes. Finally getting to chat with Harry felt like a breath of fresh air and he wasn’t all that scary now that she got to chatting with him. She took her phone back and smiled at the cute little emoji, sending him a text to let him know it was her before hesitantly getting up. “Alright well, I gotta get back to my kitten... but, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Y/N smiled, watching him stand up as well. The two of them walked out of the coffee shop and to their cars, Y/N being bold enough to give him a hug before opening her car door. “Night!” She was surprised with herself. Y/N was proud, completely over the moon and honestly she wasn’t sure how she was going to sleep tonight.

-----

Harry laid out on the bed that night with Marie on his chest. He had told her all about how the pretty Y/N had met him and that she would be coming over. The pretty cat was a long haired white kitty, and she purred along with Harry as he spoke. She liked hearing Harry be happy. It made him want to squeak when he heard his phone buzz and a little text from her popped up— he saved her as ‘Y/N 🌼’ because he felt like it fit. Part of him wanted to put a heart but he would be mortified if she saw and thought it was weird. She wore a yellow flower shirt one day so he figured that’s what he could excuse it as.

‘Hey, happy to hear from you! :) I hope your kitty is doing well. I meant to ask, you aren’t vegetarian are you?’

Y/N smiled at his text and attached a photo of her gray kitten laying across the top of her head while she laid down.

‘Yes, he’s quite cozy.’

‘I am actually! But I’m not too fussy.’

She couldn’t help it, she loved animals and she couldn’t bring herself to do it anymore. Occasionally, she would indulge in a chicken nugget or seafood, but for the most part she didn’t feel like she had to.

‘I’m going to get some sleep though, Good night Harry 💓’

That wasn’t too much was it? It was just a heart! She sent them to everyone. Y/N stayed up for a good ten minutes just digesting the day. Tomorrow would be even better, she had a feeling.

——

Harry was... well, he wasn’t sure how to describe the emotion. When Niall inevitably quizzed him on why he was acting strange, the best he had come up with was a mix of nerves and giddiness, also terror and extreme happiness. He was going to hang out with the girl he had been silently crushing on— and they had been texting quite frequently in the short time they had each other’s numbers. Was this going to be a regular thing? Was it going to blossom into more? He knew that he had wasted time before, not talking to her. She wasn’t scary! No... she was so sweet and kind and beautiful and everything she said made him a literal heart eye emoji. She had taken to sending him random photos, even so quickly in and it felt comfortable. He had even sent her a shot of Marie on the counter this morning, on top of his school notes. It was odd. The excitement he felt when he heard the bing from his phone of the vibration in his pocket... it was incredible. He liked this feeling. Damn it. This was such a new thing. He wanted to do more.

He saw her in class, watching as she crept in a bit after the last call should be with a sheepish smile on her face. He waved to her silently and watched her climb up, his heart beating quicker when she chose a seat closer to his than before. She wanted to sit near him? He clutched the rainbow patchwork sweater by the sleeves and fiddled with the cuffs, nerves and excitement swirling in his tummy.

If class wasn’t already on, Y/N knew she would have tried to spark up some conversation with Harry, but for now all she could manage was passing him a note.

‘I like your cardigan :)’

It was really cute. Most of Harry’s wardrobe was and in her dream world she already stole a few to wear. English literature wasn’t exactly the most exciting class, but Harry seemed invested. Y/N enjoyed watching him focus and take notes while she mostly doodled some random flowers and bears in her notebook. Her mind was thinking about what she was going to wear to his house and how she definitely needed a shower before and that she had to put on the lotion that matched her perfume. Was she overthinking this? Maybe. Of course it was just a study date, but you could never be too sure where things could go. And if they did— she wanted to be ready.

He knew that he needed to contain himself but his smile made it hard. She liked his cardigan. The random compliment had him feeling mushy and happy and there was definitely a blush on his cheeks as he clicked his pen and wrote back to her.

‘Thanks :) my nan knitted it for me. I like your little head band.’

He passed it back before opening his notebook back up. Her stare could be felt and he wanted to smirk a little at it because, well, who wouldn’t? She was so great, and he wanted to experience more of her but he was trying to not rush shit. He was a romance writer after all. All of it felt so in tune with his own wants and he had a hard time believing it was real. Sweet little Y/N wanted to hang out with him and she complimented his cardigan!

‘Awe!! That’s cute and thank youuuu 🥰’

She drew him a little smiley face with hearts around it, felt like it was very on brand for her and her emotive texting. Y/N felt all giddy because she had made a new friend but she was really hoping they wouldn’t just be friends.

Y/N knew she was hard to read because she was generally nice to everyone and honestly, Harry seemed to be the same way. She could only assume he liked her because he asked her to hang out so quickly. And he’d bought her a cake pop and was planning on buying pizza tonight. Was it a date then? Gosh, she needed to stop reading into it. Her leg kept bouncing up and down, mind trying to refocus and thankfully, their professor was discussing something she too had noticed in her reading. She still managed to steal quick glances at Harry for the rest of the class, giving him shy little smiles. It wasn’t till class ended that she ended up speaking to him, but even that was quick. She needed to get home and get ready.

Harry had gotten a quick hi, and a ‘see you tonight!’ With her hand brushing his arm before she skipped off to.. wherever she went. And that had him nearly sprinting home. Cleaning top to bottom, vacuum, scrub, vacuum again. Changed his sheets— why, he wasn’t sure— put his laundry in the basket, filled up Marie’s food and water, fluffed the pillows, cleaned the windows and coffee table... he did it all. Even cleaned out the fridge! Like she would care? Harry didn’t know. All he did know was that he was finally showered and smelled nice, hair fixed and the pumpkin patch candle was lit! The tv was on low because he was nervous and needed some filler noise to keep himself from overthinking.

Y/N was doing the same, not cleaning her apartment but cleaning herself. She stripped out of her clothes when she got home and immediately got into the shower, taking one of those full maintenance ones for good measure. Once she was positive she was squeaky clean and smelled nice, she jumped out to take the next steps. God, she really wanted to impress him. He’d been her crush for a while and she needed this. She wanted to look like she didn’t put in my effort when she did so she decided to put on some light makeup and chose an outfit that was more laid back. Usually, she was seen wearing sweaters and jeans, nothing too fancy, so that’s exactly what she settled on. Y/N wanted to look warm and inviting.

Milo mewed beneath her feet as she collected all her study supplies, rubbing against her ankles in need of attention. “I’m sorry bubs, I know I didn’t get to spend lots of time with you today but don’t be too mad.” Y/N pouted, picking him up and giving him a cuddle for a few minutes. She held him up to her chest as she finished up, deciding she needed to leave now.

‘Leaving now, be there in 20 ✨’

She sent, hopping into her car with nerves bubbling up in her stomach. God, she really hoped tonight went well.

——

When Harry heard the knock at the door he shot up, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants before forcing himself to be slow, walking to the door. And when he opened it, it really did feel like being hit in the gut. Seeing someone so beautiful, so up close? It got to him. He had to admit that. Y/N has this natural beauty that he drooled over. That felt like a hit. Every time he saw her he swore she got more beautiful.

“Hi.” He spoke with a smile, opening the door up for her. “Come inside. Marie is wandering around so I have to close the door. A little escape artist, she is.” He joked, letting her scurry in and close the door behind her.

“Hey! Oop— okay!” Y/N giggled and stepped past him into his apartment. It was very cute and very tidy. Y/N felt a little flutter in her belly, it was freshly cleaned. She stepped out of her shoes before further examining the decor. The style was something she very much expected for Harry, it was cozy and artsy. Lots of earth tones and that sweet autumn smell coming from the candle made her feel that much more excited. “It’s so nice in here! I love the pillows.” Y/N complimented, liking how some were fluffy and some had funky patterns on them. It was then that she heard a meow from below, Marie sniffing at her sock covered toes. “Oh hi there... sorry if you can smell Milo on me, gave me lots of snuggles before I left.” Y/N cooed down to the kitten, dropping down so she was closer to the ground and extended her hand for her to sniff and get used to.

Y/N realized this was very real now, especially because he had gone out of his way to make his place look nice. Most guys wouldn’t care, but maybe Harry did this for everyone. When she stood back up and turned to face him, she got a whiff of him and noticed his semi damp hair. He showered too. Oh—

Harry smiled at her and Marie, happy his kitten seemed to like her. Usually she would sniff his friends and run off but she began to weave over her legs and beg for pets. He was in awe. Christ. She had him by the balls already.

“Do you want anything to drink? I’ve got diet soda... apple juice, lots of teas. And water.” He hummed, going into the kitchen with her behind him. It was an open concept though, the kitchen the first thing near the door and it opened into a large living area, the hall down going to the master bedroom. It was simple but perfect for him in college. He gave her a moment to think it over as he looked at her. So cozy and... cuddly. He wanted to slide his hands under her sweater and feel her warm skin and nuzzle into the crook of her neck, let her fingers play through his hair.

“Apple juice sounds good.” Y/N smiled, having picked up Marie at this point to carry her into the kitchen with them. She had a feeling she’d get along just great with Milo if they ever got to meet. “You’re a sweet little thing, aren’t you?” Y/N cooed at the kitten, seeing her comfortably settled against her. “Does your Daddy spoil you with snuggles too?” She asked toying with her little paw before looking up at Harry with a smile. He had fumbled a bit with the lid of the juice at her words which made her giggle, “How are you? How was your day today?” Y/N was genuinely curious, deciding to make some small talk before actually sitting down. In her head she could already imagine the two of them hanging out here constantly, tangled up in one another, kissing and laughing and doing all the cute things that Harry likely wrote about in his stories.

“I’m— im good.” Harry’s mouth was dry. He knew that she hadn’t meant anything by it, but he heard her say ‘daddy’ in reference to him, and his stupid cock had jumped, tummy felt hot. Damn it. He wished he wasn’t so deprived but... she had been at the forefront of his mind. “It was a good day. I was happy to talk to you. You’re fun to talk to.” He meant it too. She was so interesting and funny and he was completely whipped and okay with it. Damn. He wished he had maybe a bit more restraint with his imagination but he didn’t. Not at all. “I have a harder time meeting people... i can be a little shy sometimes. I’m in my own head a lot you know? I have my core group of friends but... it’s hard to get to know people. I want to know them.” Her. That translates to her.

“Yeah?” Y/N felt her heart jump. He was happy to speak with her even just a little bit? He wanted to talk to her and get to know her? It wasn’t just a one sided thing. They were both making an effort in their own way and she was thinking someone had to break the tension. “I’m happy you think so.” Y/N blushed, “I um... I also like talking to you.” She had her little friend group as well but she never thought she’d actually end up being friends with Harry. Listening to him explain how reserved he was definitely made her feel special though. He chose to open up to her, she was special enough for that and that made her cheeks grow warm once again. “I’ll tell you just about anything you want to know.” Y/N smiled, hesitantly placing Marie down before taking a few steps closer to him to get her glass of apple juice.

“Ooooh, a little daunting. Anything? Your social security number?” Harry was joking. Trying to clear the air and make her relax because she was a bit shy too and he wanted her to be comfortable here. This place should be a good spot for her. He motioned for her to come sit on the couch with him, Marie trailing after Y/N. Little traitor had a new favorite already but... he couldn’t say he could blame her. “I dunno... it’s hard sometimes, in this age to make genuine friendships. Feels like everyone’s already got their friend groups and you don’t want to infringe upon them yeah? And... I write a lot. I’m not a partier. Not to sound cliche but again.... I’m a writer.” He chuckled.

“I said just about!” Y/N chuckled, shaking her head to herself at his joke. She felt like she was an open book, she was pretty open with the things she liked and generally she aimed to spread positivity and love where she could. Her hobbies included lots of things, music, knitting, reading, gardening. That kind of stuff. “But yeah, I get that... I’ve been pretty content with my group of friends, though I think most people are open to making new ones. At least I am... I am a bit shy though.” Y/N took a sip of her apple juice before setting it down on the coffee table again. “Yeah, you said. Romance novels.” She smiled and leaned back into the couch, getting comfortable. “What sorts of romance novels?” What? Could you blame her for wanting to know what sort of content was in them? Maybe it could give her some insight on what he wanted.

“Oooooh. Hard hitting stuff.” Harry huffed out playfully. “I’m... it’s a variety, I think. I’ve done supernatural, classic tropes, historical romance was very fun. I am partial to enemies to lovers or forbidden romances though. They’re the most fun to write.” Y/N genuinely looked like she cared so he continued. “I’ve been trying out different stuff but....” he blushed again. “I’m... looking at erotica right now.” It wasn’t something he usually would blurt out but hey, she seemed trustworthy. Plus she didn’t seem like she would judge either. It was a new favorite of his. The rawness of it and writing sex scenes... it was amazing. Reading it, writing it, he thought he could do some on the side and sell it under a pen name. It would be a fun thing to try.

Erotica. This man sat down and wrote detailed sex scenes, likely kinky, for fun? Thankfully she didn’t have any juice in her mouth because it surely would have been spat out.

“H-how are you finding it?” She asked, reaching for her apple juice because she felt like she couldn’t sit still now. How else was she supposed to go about things when all she could think about was sex. Sex with him specifically. Y/N wasn’t blind, she knew that Harry was very attractive and very much gifted with beautiful hands. She could only assume he would have a wonderful cock as well. She knew there was no way someone so quite couldn’t have the filthiest of minds, she knew hers was. Her fantasies were where she roamed free.

“I mean... I do like it a lot, actually. I hope that doesn’t come across as creepy or pervy but I like to be able to write something like that. It’s freeing, in a sense.” Harry couldn’t really properly describe why but, he was a kinky dude. You’d never think it. He was soft and wore sweaters a lot and drank tea at home from a kitty mug but he was.... a kinky fucker. And he loved sex. There was just something about it. He wanted to try more and more of it but he had a tendency to get attached to his partners, even hook ups... so he had put that on a hault.

“I’d like to read some...” Y/N felt like at some point, she’d want to read his writing. If he felt comfortable now she didn’t mind. It was just writing, wasn’t it?

“You want to?” She looked at him with bright eyes and her a fast nod so Harry decided to say, fuck it. If they were going to work as friends... or lovers, which is what Harry really wanted... she would need to accept this side. He grabbed his laptop and boosted it on, letting himself grab the latest completed scene. “Here. You can read this, i'll order the pizza.” There were obvious nerves in his belly from letting her read filthy smut from his computer but Y/N... she was different. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but she was.

They were meant to be studying.

That was long forgotten though as Y/N nodded and got comfortable on the couch with his laptop sat in her lap. It felt a bit taboo, but she figured she could separate the writer from the story.

The scene was from a male character’s perspective, describing him having a long and hard day at work where all he could think about was his partner. Y/N felt her face get progressively warmer as the character spoke about his partner, she couldn’t help but imagine this was how Harry was when he was horny and needy.

Y/N knew that if she was his, she would certainly brighten up his mood after a tough day at work. Seeing her own name in the document however proved that Harry thought the same. Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head, her eyes lifting from the screen to look up at him as he ordered the pizza completely unaware of her discovery.

This is what he imagined? This is what he wanted to do.... with her?

Harry ordered two cheese pizzas and some cinnamon dessert thing because there was a a special going on. He had thought about getting more but he didn’t want to go overboard with it, so he finished the order. Thank god for online ordering.

“Okay... it’ll be here in 25 minutes I think.” He hummed, looking up and freezing slightly. She looked blushy and her eyes wide as she read the post and he wondered why she looked a bit startled. “Hey... y’alright love?” He asked quietly. God damn it. Had he freaked her out too much? Was it just too much in general for the first time they properly hung out? He couldn’t remember exactly what scene he had pulled up. Just that it was recent, a billionaire type of thing.

Y/N casually moved the laptop on to the coffee table without answering his question. She didn’t think twice before she climbed on to his lap, hands settling on his shoulders. Sure, it was a risky move, but after what she’d read? She felt like she had to make her move. She wanted to be just as hot and sexy as he had imagined her to be. Harry’s shocked expression made her smile, hand going up to cup his cheek.

“You left my name in the document...” Y/N’s voice spoke low and slow, thumb brushing over his now parted lips. Never did she think she could be so bold so soon, but fuck did it feel good. She felt so powerful, so sexy, and so so horny. “Thought about me riding your cock so much you wrote about it?” Y/N whispered, leaning in to kiss the skin just below his ear before nibbling at the skin. “Noticed me before we properly met... thought about me... is this what you wanted, baby?”

Harry blanked.

Oh. fuck.

He hadn’t expected her to climb into his lap. Climbing on and straddling him, cupping his cheek, talking in that hot little voice that had his cock filling a bit. Holy fucking shit.

“Oh—” He was cut off by her thumb over her lip. She was into it, into him. How had this happened? He had to be dreaming. But... no. Her heat was too real to be a dream. Her eyes too clear and dark, her smell too real. It was real. “Y-yeah...” He whispered, gasping when she kissed his skin, hand grabbing her waist. Oh, hell. Under his pants, his cock was quickly hardening. You couldn’t blame him, his dream woman, his crush, was straddling his lap and kissing his neck. Talking like this.

“Thought about it ‘lots.” He muttered. She was so bold for this and that was something he found so sexy. When her teeth scraped his skin and bit down a bit harder, a dark groan left his mouth, hand on her waist tightening. “Holy shit... Y/N.”

“Hmm... feels good?” Y/N questioned, licking over the spot that she bit before moving to a new one. “Think I can make you cum in 25 minutes?” Y/N felt like she could take on the challenge, his cock was already hardening beneath her and she was a bit of foreplay away from being completely soaked. “Wanna try all of it, yeah?” Y/N muttered, nipping at the spot just where his jawline met his neck. “Riding your cock.... you bending me over, can choke me too. Please do...” She moaned at the thought, her hormones completely taking over. He still seemed to be frozen, despite his hand now on her waist so she moved her hips forward a little bit and tugged at his hair. “Wanna make you feel good.”

Y/N had a kink for giving but it seemed Harry did as well. She expected a needy hook up, rough touches, quickness, pure lust. It’s exactly what she needed. It’s been a while since she’d hooked up with anyone and she was desperate for Harry to break her dry spell.

“Ah, shit.” Harry hissed. The tug at his hair sent a shock of hot arousal down his spine. That got him going so quickly. She wanted to fuck? Right now? He would be a fool to say no, and he wasn’t raised a fool. “Yeah? Y’want to ride my cock?” He asked lowly. “Fucks sake... I didn’t know you were so dirty.” He never would have guessed it from her either but... they were here. And he was snapped out of his shock by the tug, and now he was ready to do whatever the fuck she let him. “What did y’want the most, love? Tell me.” He had taken into account that she wanted to be choked, raising a hand to gently cuff her throat, bringing her close to his face. The confidence was soaring now, and all because she was leaking it. She wanted it, desperately. “I said, tell me.” He gave a quick squeeze to her throat. “Want to know what you need.”

“Need your cock, daddy.” Y/N moaned out, eyes blown and glazed over with desire. Y/N could feel the tension in her bones, cunt throbbing and aching to be touched. “Need you so bad, please— wanted you for so long, please make me cum, please!” She pleaded, fully giving into the fantasy. Y/N was never one to hold back and from what she had read, he certainly didn’t want her to. Her body felt like it was on fire, hands grabbing fist fulls of his sweater in hopes that he’d just take it off. Y/N wasn’t sure what type of body would be beneath it, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to feel his warm skin, lick and kiss all that she could while she worked her magic. Y/N waited for his directions, falling into the submissive role easily despite her initial approach. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’re gonna have to re-write that scene.”

Harry was going to give this girl any fucking thing she wanted. He let her guide his sweater off, the cool air hitting his skin not even getting a chance because her hands and mouth were all over him. It was like she had fallen into a heat, and Harry.... he loved it. He placed his hands under her sweater, feeling her hands smooth over his chest as she kissed at his neck and over his jaw. Her skin was hot under the sweater, his hands gripping her waist and smoothing over her hips, going up and sip to her ribs where he realized— fuck.

“Not wearing a fucking bra?” He hissed. “Jesus... you’re a little minx, aren’t you? Off with this.” He spoke lowly, grabbing the ends of it but barely had a shot before Y/N ripped it off of her body. Fucks sake. She was sexier than he had ever imagined. “My god... you’re so sexy, baby.” He whispered, sitting up and burying his face between her breasts. Kissing the hot skin between them, working his way up with the wet, open mouthed kisses to her throat.

“Oh Daddy...” Y/N’s body shuddered at the feeling of his mouth on her, head falling back as she let out a happy sigh. He seemed to like her hand in his hair so she happily gripped at his locks as he scattered kisses over her skin. “Come ‘ere...” She whined, guiding him up to her lips. “Wanna taste your mouth.” Making eye contact with him in this moment felt intimate. All those quick glances in classes and at the coffee shop, all the day dreaming, it all built up to this moment where she fully felt she could let herself let go. The both of them wanted this, it was so reassuring, this was a safe space and they could do whatever they wanted. Y/N’s body rolled forward, pushing him further back onto the couch and angling her hips so she could tease the both of them before she let herself have it. Fuck was he hard... and full. Another moan left her lips, sounding more like a plea and cry for more.

“Fuck me... you’re needy. I love it.” Harry hissed, pulling her mouth to his. It wasn’t soft. No, this kiss... it was hot. Heavy. Her mouth opened and immediately he dragged his tongue inside, meeting hers. She tasted like the apple juice and a bit of mint, and he could groan just from how good it was. Sweet little Y/N wasn’t too innocent at all. “Fuck— keep teasing me like that. S’like you want to end up crying.” He had a feeling now that she did. She wanted his cock inside of her pussy, thrusting in and out and letting herself soak him. Yeah... he wanted it too. “Keep calling me daddy. You’re so dirty. Who would have fucking... known.” He spoke between the kisses, hands going for her jeans. He wanted them off, like hours ago. He was finally going to get her. “M’gonna lay you out in my bed after... first m’gonna fuck you, but M’gonna clean out your cunt with my tongue. And then M’gonna take you again. Yeah?” She has come for studying but was staying for hot sex and he hoped to turn it into a nice marathon. He had all weekend and he was hoping she wouldn’t have to go. He had too many idea for her. “Gonna let daddy lick it up?”

“Fuck— yes, gonna let daddy have his way with me...” She kept her hips rolling against his slowly, keeping the rhythm in check with the passionate kiss they were sharing. Y/N already knew this was going to be the best sex of her life, the kiss alone let her know that. His tongue would work wonders on her cunt and she’d be more than happy to return the favor. Hesitantly, Y/N began to stand to get her jeans off, one of her hands staying put on the back of his neck so the kiss didn’t break. She let him fiddle with the zipper, feeling his fingers hook both her jeans and underwear before yanking them down to which Y/N let out a little squeal.

Y/N knew she had to pull away from the kiss for air but she didn’t want to, waiting till the very last minute until she couldn’t anymore and went to get his jeans off.

“Come on. Be good.” He murmured against her lips, brushing his hips up so she could get his pants off. She tugged and easily they came down, Harry kicking them off as he pulled her back in his lap. His hands gripped her bare ass and groaned when she pushed into them, not thinking twice before pulling his hand back and smacking it the sound rang in the room and she let out the most sexy noise against his mouth, making him hiss. Fuck. He wanted her so fucking badly. This girl... she was everything. One hand went to feel and fuck. Fuck shit, motherfuck, it was wet. She was so, wet. “Jesus— you’re so wet. Baby— holy shit, you’re soaked.” He whispered. “S’cause of me? You wanted daddy’s cock this bad?” He pulled his fingers off slightly, the arousal still stringing to his fingers. He placed them at her mouth and pushed them in. “That’s it. Clean them up, sweet girl. You’re so filthy, y’know that? Precious little thing. So slick and hot, want cock so fucking bad don’t you?” He cooed, feeling her suck on the digits. “Now.... rub it against your pussy. Don’t put it in yet. get it wet.”

Y/N sucked at his fingers as if it were her job, making sure to treat it like she would his cock which included eye contact. She loved looking at him, seeing his hungry expression and his eyes that seemed to say so much more than he did. Even the feeling of her cunt sliding over his cock sent tingles up her spine. It had never affected her this much with other guys, but she assumed it was different with Harry because she had wanted him for so long. Y/N let out a whimper, feeling a gush of wetness accumulate when he pushed his fingers in farther. Harry was hot in ways she couldn’t explain, there were little things he did that just hit the spot and made her want to fuck him even harder. Y/N was practically bouncing on his cock, aching for him to let her have it inside.

“You’re such a good girl. Listening so fucking well.” Harry took his fingers from her mouth, smirking at the whine and slight chasing of his fingers when he placed it on her breast. She gave it all to him and honestly, he was ready to just... lose it. “Go ahead. Take what you want.” It was not even a moment later that he felt her begin to sink down. She was tight— so damn tight, and he choked slightly at just how good the squeeze was. He let out a hiss, head thrown back in the couch as the slick, hit cunt sucked over him, squeezing hard as she stretched open slowly. “Holy fuck.” He growled, gripping both hips now and looking at her with a darkness in his eyes. “You’re so bloody tight— Christ, you’re squeezin’ me so good.” He whispered.

“Daddy!” She whimpered as she slid farther down on his cock until she couldn’t fit anymore of him in. “I’m so full— feels so good.” Her eyes rolled back a bit as she began to bounce at a slowed rhythm. Small moans and little huffs came from her throat with every stroke of her hips, it wasn’t until she felt warmed up that she actually went for it. Y/N shifted so that she had better balance, keeping her hands on his shoulders before dropping back down on his cock. “Fuck!” She squeaked, making sure to clench one her way back up before repeating the action at a quicker pace. It felt incredible. He was touching every little part of her, feeling small waves of pleasure spread throughout her body. “Daddy! Fuck— feels so good ahhh!” Her moans were pornographic, whiny, desperate and needy. She didn’t even know she could sound like that, but apparently it was possible when she was as thirsty for cock as she was.

Never would he have guessed that this would be the outcome of their hang out. He had hoped, sure. Dreamed? Absolutely. But the reality was so much better. He had the hot, wet and extremely tight pussy gliding up and down his cock. She was moaning, tits bouncing in his face, and she was vocal. More than he could have asked for. The infatuation he had with her was only growing.

“Fuck, you’re a good girl. Such a perfect little cunt. Like bouncing on my cock, hm? Knew you’d be the perfect girl for me. Keep going.” His hand squeezed her ass, encouraging her to work herself on him. “Feels so full, yeah? Such a big cock filling such a little pussy. A nice stretch for you hm? So eager to be filled up...” her face was of pure bliss and Harry couldn’t help but take a mental photo. He hoped this could happen more than this once. “Knew you’d be good for me. Throwin’ yourself in my lap and begging to be fucked. Never guessed you’d be such a little slut, but I love it.” He took his hand, bringing it down sharply on her ass.

“Fuck!” Y/N gasped, her own hand moving to cuff his neck. It wasn’t as effective as him doing it to her, but it got the point across. The both of them grabbing at each other roughly, him thrusting up into her each time she slammed down. It could only be described as pure ecstasy, surely the hottest sex she had ever had. She needed him, she needed him to cum. Y/N couldn’t stop herself from leaning down to kiss his mouth again, making a mess of the two of them. “You’re so fucking good— love your cock, daddy... fucking love it!” She moaned between kisses, increasing her pace just enough so she could fuck him hard and steady. “I want you to cum for me daddy, wanna feel it nice and deep.” Thank fuck for IUDs. “Want you to fill me up while I cum all over your cock, can you do that for me? Can you cum with me?”

He was panting, lowering himself so he could properly thrust into her sopping cunt. He hadn’t gotten any in so long but this blew any and everyone out of the water. No one could ever understand how good this was. All the pining and imagining had come to an even better conclusion.

“I’ll do it... but you... gotta promise me.” He growled, giving a particularly sharp thrust inside of her, making her wail. “Promise me I can do it again. Let me have this pussy more.” He didn’t want it to end if it was the only time he could get it. It was too good to let go of. Drooling all over his cock and her soft whimpers and dirty words had him more worked up than anything else. “Promise, baby, and I’ll let you have my cum.”

“Promise— I promise— fuck!” She felt her breath get caught in her throat at the particularly hard thrusts Harry was giving her. “Please Daddy, please give it to me.” Y/N whimpered, moving her hands so they cupped his cheeks, keeping eye contact with him as they continued to relentlessly thrust into each other. There was nothing more satisfying, nothing that managed to hit every part of her both physically and spiritually and made her feel so alive. When you’ve wanted something for so long it makes getting it that much better and she knew that she’d always be chasing this high that only he could give her. “I’m so close, fuck, daddy—“ She mumbled between kisses, squeezing around him and continuing at her pace to bring herself to the perfect high. “Cum with me daddy, please— ah!”

Harry would work on his stamina next round. But after the whole thing, he was close to losing his mind. She was giving him the most tempting offer and he wasn’t going to give it up.

“Oh— fuck me.” He thrusted in again and again before he let himself go. Feeling her clench up around him and sob against his mouth, he let out a deep growl as he buried himself deep. Hot cum shooting inside of her cunt, rocking his hips in to get it all in there. There was no doubt that this was some of the most intense sex of his life but he was almost ready to go again, as soon as it ended. Holding her shivering form, her orgasm was tapering, he could feel her clenching still. “That’s it. Take all of it inside of you. Good girl.”

Y/N gripped Harry’s shoulders, loud screams of pleasure coming straight from her throat. There were no words to describe the high, she almost felt out of her own body as he showered her with praise. With her body shaking and face contorting with a silent scream, she found it in her to come back down letting out a pathetic whimper.

“Daddy—” She swallowed thickly, mouth finding his messily, pressing kisses to his lips and his face. The two of them were both lightly covered in sweat, breathing heavily and enjoying each other’s company. Y/N was far too blissed out to think about what just happened, but blissed out enough to know there would be many more rounds of this tonight. Y/N smiled as she nuzzled against his neck, still sponging kissing to his dampened skin. “Better?” She mumbled, smirking against his skin a bit.

“Mm.” He hummed, hands holding her hips still. Holy hell. This was the beginning of an amazing weekend- because he didn’t plan on letting her out at all, if he could help it’ he wanted her to stay, to let him indulge in her. “So fucking good.” He muttered lowly, rubbing his hand up her back and smoothing over her skin. Fucks sake. This was paradise. Nothing could pop him out of this.

At least, that was until the doorbell rang.

“Ah, fuck. The pizza.”

-------------------------------------------------

let us know what you think!

masterlist

#writing #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #Harry Styles #harry styles imagine #college!harry #harry writing #college!h

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inhale-fandoms-exhale-asdfghjkl · 4 years

Text

Highlights of the 10umentary for me:

Brian’s special boy song

Everyone hugging. Most precious thing in the world! (I also wish I could hug everyone in Starkid)

Brian’s commentary about hugging. Actually Brian’s commentary in general is amazing.

Joey, Darren and Dylan hugging “combine your bodies to become one”

Nick trying to pretend like he’s not stressed is me always.

Brian talking to the guy in the next car who thinks he’s talking about Star Wars. “People in LA are so nice”

“Here’s Diane. Diiiiannne. She doesn’t care” a queen.

“Well I’m not finding a DAMN thing at forever 21” 😂

“Yeeah baby” - Nick is so precious I cannot.

Nick and Jon dancing at 9:42-9:45

Darren is such a sweetheart

Classic Darren missing his line 😂

“I haven’t seen a lot of people in a long time” Same Joe. Same.

Omg Britney on FaceTime 🥰

Bonnie gushing about seeing everyone again. Ahhh 🥰

Everyone jamming to “make the most of it”

Omg Carlos I forgot about he was here for this. How dare I? Ahhh 🥰

Carlos: “I decided to come incognito. You know I didn’t want anyone to recognise me on the street so um you know I tried not to advertise myself or what I do”

Also Carlos: drinks from a The Flash water bottle as he says this.

The chaoticness of Carlos and Britney trying to sing together on time on FaceTime

“Is this unusual for Starkid” “no this is how we do all our shows”. At least they’re aware on how chaotic they are.

Darren is literally seems like one of the most confident people ever so hearing him talk about how he’s intimidated by AJ and Clark is crazy to me but I love it. Again, he’s such a sweetheart.

DARREN AND DYLAN HAVE KNOWN EACH OTHER FOR 20 YEARS? HOW DID I NOT KNOW THIS? I live for this friendship.

Jaime crushing them vocals 😍 not that she ever doesn’t bc she’s a literal queen!

“That’s what happens when you lock a bunch of people in a rehearsal room and sing about bugs and... Batman”

Everyone gushing about Jim Povolo. As they should.

Just a random side point but Brian’s editing skills really don’t get enough credit. All of his bts videos have done consist of him picking one thing to just continuously play throughout the whole video which is probably just from his love of repeating any bit for as long as possible until he exhausts it. Like Nick going “I don’t have time for that”. My favourite instance of this is the AVSR bts with joe saying “it’s a funny scene” and the sunglasses over Corey. Anyway, excuse my rambling. I love Brian, okay.

Nick’s dancing montage is cinematic perfection. 24:30-25:20

Richard, lily and Jim forgetting to come in for going back to Hogwarts 😂

“We just have to make sure we know what we’re doing”. Has Starkid ever known what the hell they’re doing?

Tyler fucking up his line 😂🥰

“They’re doing Voldemort is going down? Nobody likes that song” 😂

“Did you guys hear it’s the 10 year reunion” “yeah Liam”

Joe having no fucking clue what his lines are and people just assuming he’s doing a bit is just classic Joe Walker.

“This feels like an awful fever dream. A nightmare” - Also known as the year 2020.

“For those that know me, I think I and other people make fun of me for being verbose but I’m very particular... especially when dealing with Starkid. I want it to be concise and genuine.... I haven’t been in a Starkid show in a long time so it’s nice to be able to be back” I stan a man whose aware of how extra he can be. Also have I mentioned he’s a sweetheart?

“Darren’s speech was too verbose. It has been cut down for time” Brian cutting like half the speech is so savage and I love it.

Everyone jamming out to tgwdlm is a mood

“Honestly, the Brant Chant is one of the most humiliating things that will and continues to happen in my life and the fact I already had to experience it once in this run is uh-” “I MISSED THE BRANT CHANT!?!” “It already happened” “FUCK”

“It’s consistently traumatising and a highlight for everyone else except me” poor Brant! 😂

“I think everyone just loves Brant and it happens naturally”. Same.

I saw Joe Walker Interlude come up on the screen and my first thought was “I don’t know what’s about to happen but I just know it’s gonna be great”

“Horrified audience members”

Darren recording and high-fiving everyone 🥰

“I remember very distinct first impressions of people and it’s mainly by what they eat” y’know, I might start doing this.

“Joey Richter showed up with a subway pizza and I was like you don’t do that”

Lauren Lopez pulled out over her purse just a sweet potato that was pre-cooked with no toppings. Just a shriveled pre-cooked potato” - she honestly sounds so traumatised from this 😂

Nick’s bee sting story 😂

Everyone else: admiring the fan art. Brian: “What the fuck?Where’s Superman/Junior/Flopsy?”

“YOU CANT PUT LUPIN IN IT!?” I’m sorry Brian, we all know that you’re characters are iconic.

“WHAT THE FUCK!? Oh I wasn’t in this one”

I don’t know why I laughed so hard at Darren in the background of Joey talking about his drink but it’s hilarious.

Joe having a five minute warm up song that no one else is allowed to participate in is just peak Joe.

“I cried last night but I won’t do it again” - aww I love you Nick 🥰

Meredith really is just a ball of sunshine isn’t she? I love her. I feel like I don’t talk about her enough.

“It’s been ten years and we finally learnt how to put on a show”

“What’s weird about how it’s been is how not weird it’s been. If that makes any sense” no it doesn’t Nick but we love you anyway.

This video is really just an AJ and Clark appreciation video and I am here for it.

The SKH version of to have a home is my fav version of it so I’m crying a little.

BONNNIIEEE!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰

“Who knows, if America survives and the world is still habitable in the year 2029, maybe we’ll see you for the 20th” this made me laugh and cry

Liam’s got a phone call is such a bop honestly.

Also I love all the new starkids having no fucking clue about this song but just vibing with it anyway.

I literally love Starkid with my entire heart and I am so thankful for them releasing this bts finally because I needed it big time.

#starkid #starkid homecoming #10umentary #sk10 #avpm #avps #avpsy #mamd #starship #twisted #ani #trail to oregon #tgwdlm #black friday #firebringer #hmb

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itsnsfwalways · 4 years

Text

Canyon Moon

FIC MASTERLIST

WARNINGS FOR CHP. 2: swearing, mild drug & alcohol use, brief mentions of death

CHAPTER TWO: wish i could get to know you

The two of you pull up to your buddy Mike’s place, a small, hole-in-the-wall studio.

Harry parks the car and gets out to open your door, although he waits for you outside to tie your boots.

“How’d you meet this guy?”

“Oh, Mike? We can’t really remember the first time, I’ll tell you the story with him when we’re inside.”

You hop out of the car and grab his hand, swinging it back and forth as you walk up to the front, hearing soft music playing already.

The two of you reach the door and Y/N swings it open, yelling out,

“I hope you’re ready because mama wants a tattoo.”

Harry shakes his head and tries to hide his grin as he turns around to shut the door all the way.

“You’re fucking stupid,” A male voice laughs out, looking up from his sketchbook. His feet are propped up on the counter, and of course, he is littered with tattoos.

“Mike, this is Mr. Ferrari, Ferrari, Mike,” you introduce, waving your hands between the two.

“I saw that fuckin car, I was like ‘who the fuck is coming to me in that?’” Mike exclaimed, snapping his fingers.

“Hey, mate, I’m Harry,” Harry says, leaning forward to shake Mike’s hand while giving you a look that makes your head drop to the floor and your heart skip a beat.

“Nice to meet you, dude. I’m Mike, Like your tats,” Mike says, getting up from the chair behind the counter.

He leads the two of you over to his station, getting all his supplies laid out as you hop into the leather chair.

“So what are you getting, Y/N?” Harry asks, sitting in a chair near you.

“This extremely intricate design that’s going to take lots of mental power, and, of course, only gives me a few hours notice,” Mike teases, kicking the bottom of your chair.

“It’s just this geometrical thing I saw on a Tarot card a little while ago, it really stuck out to me.” You explain, pulling the card from your purse.

“Oh, cool.” Harry nods, picking up the card, only after looking at you for permission, of course. He holds it lightly by the edges, being sure to be gentle with it.

“‘S not gonna bite you, baby,” you giggle, knocking your knee against his, biting back a smile at the way his head shoots up.

He grins at you, knocking his knee back while setting down the card carefully on the table.

“I know, but I know these cards are special to some people, want to be gentle with em,” he says softly, twirling his pointer finger ring.

“Some decks are, but these are very relaxed. You don’t have to treat em like glass.”

He nods and blushes slightly, looking away for a second to hide his smile.

“You done flirting so I can start?” Mike asks, removing the transfer paper from your inner right forearm.

“You’ve had sex on my living room floor, I’m allowed to do whatever the fuck I want after that,” you say, shuddering slightly at the memory.

“Fair point.” Mike nods, beginning the design.

“So, um, Y/N said that you guys can’t remember how you met? I’d love to hear the story.” Harry jumps in, eyebrows raised at your last statement.

“Oh, fuck,” Mike laughs, dipping the needle in more ink. “I think it needs to come with a warning that I spent pretty much the entire year of 2015 drunk. She says we met at a Tame Impala gig but I have no such memory of this happening.”

“It did happen! You gave me your number because I kept bugging you about your tattoos but it was to this random mom in Philadelphia, who did not appreciate me calling her at 3 am.”

“Anyways,” Mike cuts in, rolling his eyes, “We officially met at a New Year’s Eve party later that year that my wife, Maggie, hosted. Y/N and her ex came and proceeded to break up right before the ball dropped, and she made out with my sister instead just to piss him off.”

You let out a laugh and cover your quickly turning red face with your hand, peeking through your fingers to gauge Harry’s reaction.

“Wow.” He acknowledges, eyebrows raised and fingers pinching his bottom lip, glancing back at you. His lips quiver slightly as he tries to hold back his laughter.

“Alright, haha, very funny. The ending to this, BEAUTIFUL, story, I must say, is he gave me this tattoo the next week and the rest is history.” You gesture to the sunflower bundle inked on your thigh, before puckering up your lips at Mike, who, without even looking up, shoves your face with his other hand.

“Honestly, Harry, I’d run while you can. There’s never a dull moment with this one, that’s for fucking sure.” Mike advises, rolling his eyes when you smile widely.

“I’m starting to learn that,” Harry laughs, eyes trained on you.

The three of you go into a comfortable silence, the only sound being the tattoo gun whirring and your occasional whimper at a sensitive spot.

A thin line of sweat has slowly covered your body, and Mike notices, scoffing.

“We’re gonna take a quick break. I’m gonna go get a cig when you get calm, back in 20,” He says, stopping the machine and leaving the room quickly.

“So, uh, you guys have quite a fun dynamic,” Harry comments.

You take a deep breath and look to him, your mouth closing at how he’s positioned. It’s been about an hour at this point, and he’s shifted in his seat to a more comfortable position. Leaned back against the chair, legs spread open, arms resting behind his back, it wasn’t helping your situation.

“Yeah, he’s like my older brother. His sister is great too,” You mindlessly say.

“I’ll bet,” Harry smirks, nodding slowly.

“Hey, quit it. You get to have fun with pretty girls and so do I.”

Harry clears his throat at your boldness and adjusts his positioning, changing to lean forward on his knees.

You get up to grab two water bottles from the mini-fridge under the counter, offering one to Harry when you sit back down.

Drinking about half the bottle, you let out a sigh, trying to get your shaking legs under control.

“What’s your shirt say?” You ask, still having not figured out the small black text.

“Oh, it says ‘Treat People With Kindness’. It’s kind of my motto, or slogan, I guess. Most of my merch says either this or the abbreviation for it.” He tells you, hands going down to pull the shirt away from his chest.

“That’s really nice, Harry.” He glances up at you with a small smile on his face, nodding slightly.

“Bit egotistical wearing your own merch, but hey, who am I to judge?”

He rolls his eyes and bumps the bottom of your chair with his foot.

“Why’d he stop? You don’t seem to be freaking out to me. Maybe a little sweaty,” he teases, not realizing what he’s asking.

Groaning, you lean your head backwards towards the ceiling, hating yourself for what you’re about to say.

“Got a bit of a pain kink so I’m... overwhelmed, let’s say, and Mike hates that about me.”

Harry lets out a breath of air at this and you turn your head to look at him.

Your slight leg tremors are now starting to click, the blown out pupils, and swollen red lips from how much you were biting them.

“If it makes you feel better, I had to get a tattoo on live television and to this day, I still see zoomed in photos of my eyes from it online. At least they make the process fun.”

Your jaw drops and you lift your head up.

“Alright, Harry, shit,” you mutter, wiping the sweat off your brow. “Always got to one up me.”

He looks shocked at this and mockingly puts a hand to his chest.

“Says you! From the minute I met you, you’ve continued to surprise me with everything you say.”

“Okay, Mr. ‘I sang with Stevie Nicks and cruise around Malibu in a beautiful car’.” You say, blushing slightly from his words.

“You sang with Stevie Nicks?” Mike asks, walking through the door.

“Yes! He’s a musician, let’s play his album. What’s it called?” You jump up, slapping your hands on your thighs.

“Harry Styles, it’s a self-titled album. You can listen to it later if you want, I mean, we don’t have to-“

You shut off his rambling quickly.

“I wanna hear your voice! Also self-titled, we love a man with a big ego,” You tease, getting up to get the iPad that controls the music.

Typing in his name, you raise your eyes at the number of streams he has, clicking on the album and playing the first song, ‘Meet Me In The Hallway’.

“You’re quite pretty, Harry. That’s some gorgeous cover art.” You comment, pretending to examine it further.

“Oh god,” he laughs, tucking his chin down to hide his face a little bit.

“Okay, Y/N, shut up, sit your ass down, so I can finish this and you can listen to the song properly.” Mike points, making you put the iPad down and come over.

The song hypnotizes you for a second, trying to zone out and listen to it.

“Shit, Harry, you are fucking good.” You mutter, hand going to your mouth at his talent.

“Thank you,” he whispers, looking almost nervous at your reaction.

Your jaw stays open pretty much the entire song, each note making your eyes go wider or glance at Harry, trying to figure out how he is this perfect.

“Is it too soon to propose?” You ask, his voice slowly fading in the background as it changes to the next song.

He laughs and scrunches his nose slightly before telling you, “Just a tad.”

The next song starts playing, and you’d be lying if tears didn’t fall.

Trying to play it off, you look away and wipe your eyes. Mike glances up at you and stops for a minute, rubbing your arm slightly and giving you a squeeze. You tap back on the table and he nods, feeling better that you gave him an okay.

“Fuck, sorry, this is a lot. Crying on the second song, phew. Hope you’re doing good upstairs, Harry,” You laugh, sniffling a little.

“Don’t apologize, please. Music brings up a lot of emotions, I feel so honored that you’re reacting to it so strongly.” He says, rubbing your knee slightly,

“Should I cry a little more then?” You tease, smiling at him with damp eyes.

“Boost my ego a bit, maybe,” he smiles back.

All of a sudden, the song climaxes, and your jaw drops once more.

“Holy shit, Harry! Do you have anything wrong with you? My god.” You shake your head, in disbelief over him.

“I mean, I am always traveling, so there’s that. But other than that, I’m pretty much awesome,” he pretends to boast, fake popping his collar.

The song shifts to Carolina, which Harry tells you after you ask as soon as it starts playing.

“She’s such a good girl, she feels so good. Am I hearing that right? Just wanna check,” you recite the lyrics slowly back to him, moving your free arm around.

Harry looks away, pretending to check out the pictures on the wall behind him.

“Are you gonna be like this for every song?” Mike asks, and you nod happily, bumping your head to the beat.

Almost the entire album plays while Mike is tattooing you, all with varying reactions of either, ‘Harry!’, ‘Is this real?’, ‘I’m gonna start crying’, or ‘this is the sexiest shit I’ve ever heard’. Without fail, you ask him the song name when the first few notes start playing and he tells you it, sitting quietly and smiling at you getting so happy over his music.

Mike finishes wrapping you up and goes to the back to find some healing products for you as the final notes of Woman play, and you swivel in your chair to face Harry, knocking your knees against his.

“What’s the next one called?” You ask, so in awe of the man sitting in front of you.

“From the Dining Table. ‘S the last one. Quite an emotional one.” He says back, smiling sadly at you while playing with his rings.

You nod in understanding as it starts, coming to sit next to him and leaning your head on his shoulder, so drained from the last few hours. He wraps his arm around you, tucking his head over yours.

The song goes by without a noise from either of you, sans a few sniffles that made Harry squeeze you a little tighter.

After it ends and the two of you sit there in silence for a while, you say quietly,

“I like how at the end the music swelled when you wanted them to call you, and then it cut out. That was pretty powerful.”

He nods, the movement moving your head slightly.

“I like that part too.”

You pull away from him and look at his face close up for a second, trying to read him.

“Thank you for sharing this with me. I mean, obviously not with me, but that you let me freak out over you. You’re really special, Mr. Ferrari,” you whisper, brushing his hair out of his face.

“So are you, Y/N,” he mumbles, eyes flickering to your lips for a second.

“You paying cash or card?” Mike’s voice cuts through the air and the two of you jump apart, feeling like teenagers.

“Um, card,” You say, standing up with your purse and heading to the counter to pay.

Mike rings you up and you grab a hundred from your wallet to tip him with.

“Ah, I remembered why I like you,” Mike smirks, grabbing the bill from you.

“Stupid,” you mutter, giving him a hug goodbye.

“Oh, before you leave, I’m throwing a party this Saturday, Harry, you’re welcome to come as well,” Mike adds, gesturing him over.

He moves from his spot against the wall to stand next to you, a hand resting on your lower back for a second before dropping to his side.

“Thank you, I’ll have to check and see but I’d love to come. It was great meeting you mate, might have to set an appointment up in the future,” He smiles, shaking Mike’s hand once more.

“Hell yes, brother, I’d love to. Great album, by the way. Can see why Y/N brought you by.” Mike crosses his arms over his chest and looks at you while he says this.

“Alright, shut it down,” You snap your fingers at him, glaring slightly. “I’ll text you later, loser.”

“Get out!” He yells, making you laugh as you drag Harry away.

“Need help with your bag?” Harry asks as you exit the shop, the cold air biting your bare legs.

“I’m good, thank you though.” You swing the bag so it hits his butt just to see the way he jumps and runs away from you for a second.

“Hey! No hitting the driver!” He scolds, wagging a finger pointedly.

“We haven’t even gotten in the car yet!” You argue, coming to a stop in front of his car.

“Doesn’t matter.” He shakes his head and grins at you when he unlocks the door, immediately reaching for yours to open it for you.

“Thank you.” Your voice came out as a meek whisper and you cleared your throat after he shut the door, trying to shake out your butterflies.

He plops himself down next to you and pats his hands on the steering wheel for a second.

“Do you want me to drop you off at your van or your apartment?” He asks, turning to face you.

“Trying to kick me out?” You questioned, laughing at his expression.

“Van’s fine. I’m probably just going to write, I’ve got some stuff to do for a friend.”

“Is there a name for the beach? I’m not sure I remember how to get there,” Harry admits, opening up Google Maps on his phone.

“Not really but I can just find it on the map real quick, I’ve been in this position way too many times.”

He hands his phone over and you find the cove in less than twenty seconds, handing it back over.

“So where are you from? I’m realizing you tricked me into spilling my guts without telling me too much about yourself.” Harry questions, hand going up to scratch his chin.

“I grew up kind of all around California, my family was always traveling so I was homeschooled for all my life. Only child, because we were pretty broke and I was a ‘happy accident’,” You quote, laughing at your mom’s phrasing.

“Aren’t we all really?” Harry grins, shrugging slightly.

“I think so. Anyways, my parents died when I was 15 and that really made me get my shit together. I moved in with my best friend, Laura. Graduated high school early and just worked my ass off for a couple years. Bought Miss Sunflower and renovated her, traveled through America for about a year and a half before moving here with Laura. She and I got an apartment together and just have kind of figured life out since then. She works at a record label and I’ve been working as a part-time songwriter since I was 16, mostly just helping out whenever an extra person is needed or they need some extra little sad sprinkles in a song.” You explain, taking a breath after you finish your little rant.

“I’m so sorry for your loss. I know your parents would be very proud of you staying true to your roots.” Harry sadly smiles, rolling up to a red light at the perfect time. He leans over to give you a quick hug and you graciously accept, whispering a little ‘thank you’ in his ear.

“It’s been a rough grieving process but I’d like to think they are. Please don’t pity me though, it sucks, yes, but life could be so much worse. I’m lucky to have the people in my life that I do,” you explained, picking your nails nervously.

“I completely understand. I lost my stepdad last year and being there for my mum was the only thing that kind of kept me going,” Harry sympathizes, twisting one of his rings around his hands.

“I’m sorry as well,” you murmur, taking his hand and holding it.

“Yeah,” Harry exhales harshly. “Life’s a bitch.”

You giggle lightly, nodding. “That she is.”

The two of you sit in silence for the remainder of the drive back, listening to the ocean waves and the sounds of your breathing.

Harry parks his car next to your van and puts it in park, leaving the headlights on.

“Thank you for coming with me and sharing all of this, you really know how to make a girl feel special,” you blush, tucking a loose curl behind your ear.

“Thank you, Y/N. I feel like my whole view on the world has shifted so much in the last few hours,” Harry gushes, and you have to turn away to smile for a second.

“Come on,” you mumble, hiding your mouth with your hand.

“I’m serious! I know we just met but I really like you, I’d love to continue this. And I need to listen to you play still, not fair I only got to hear from far away for a few seconds.”

“I’d definitely like to see you again, but it’s a harsh maybe on the playing,” You nod, biting your lip to stop the smile from plastering itself on your face.

“I can give you my number if that works, but, like I said, I’m always here.” You offered, gesturing to your car.

“Number works great. And I’ll let you have your spot, I don’t want to take it away from you,” Harry pulls out his phone to give you his contacts.

“No, please come join me, with friends too! I need to share this little bundle of joy,” You hope to pursuade him into visiting this spot, but his expression is unreadable.

“How about this, I’ll text you before I come?” He suggests, taking his phone back from your hands.

“Perfect. Thank you again, Harry,” you emphasize, leaning over to give him another hug.

“Of course, love. Thank you for a wonderful night.”

You wave goodbye after getting out of his car and head into your van, taking note he doesn’t leave til you’ve gotten yourself inside and shut the door.

You plop yourself down on the bed and sigh, looking up at the ceiling.

“Holy shit,” you sigh, getting up to get into the driver’s seat.

You FaceTime Mike on your way back to the apartment, unable to wait to talk to Laura when you get home.

He answers a few seconds later, beer in hand.

“‘Sup loser,” he greets you with a head nod, “You get home okay?”

“Yes, oh my god. What the fuck was tonight? What do you think of Harry?”

He sighs and moves to lean his phone against something.

“If I’m being honest, the man is unreal. I don’t know how the fuck you found him but, wow. I can’t think of anyone who is down to not only drive someone they just met to get a tattoo, but to then sit through the entire thing while having them fangirl over their album.”

“I was not fangirling!” You try and defend, but one look from Mike shuts you up.

“Okay, maybe I was, but I’m just so in awe. I gave him my number because I thought he might feel weird giving me his. He had almost a billion streams on his first fucking album. That’s insane.” You explain, biting your thumb.

“Quit biting. And yeah, I’m not going to lie I looked him up after you left. Mans is a proper superstar, used to date Kendall Jenner allegedly.”

“Bleh,” you shake. “I don’t want to know about his life from the internet, that’s so weird. Also, when Alex and I were together he was dating some new model every other week, all those magazines are bullshit.”

“True. But Alex also was dating a model,” Mike retorts, trying to pick your buttons.

“Haha, very funny,” you deadpann, rolling your eyes.

“I’m just saying, as your brother, be careful. He really does seem like an amazing guy.”

“Yeah. He really is. Say hi to Maggie for me when you get home! I’m rolling up to my place right now so I gotta go.”

“I will. I know you already know how to take care of your tattoo so I’m not gonna waste my time. Later, loser.”

“Bye, dumbass.” You hang up, pulling into the driveway.

Practically dancing up the steps and through the front door, you’re met with the cozy atmosphere the two of you have created for yourself. You can tell your favorite vanilla candle is burning somewhere in the house and you slip off your shoes, practically running into Laura’s room and leaping onto her bed.

“Hello, my love,” she smiles, hugging you tightly. Her perfume envelopes you and you squeeze her back, lying your head in her lap.

“I thought you were staying at the beach today?” She wonders, playing with your hair.

You sit up at this, resting on your elbows.

“I met a boy,” you smile, putting your hands to your cheeks.

“Shut up!” Her voice raises a few octaves and she scrambles upright, hitting your thigh with her hand.

“Ow!”

“Who is he? Where? Oh my god!” Laura rattles off, bouncing up and down on the bed.

“His name’s Harry, we met at the spot. He came with me to get the Tarot card tattoo at Mike’s.” You gesture to the bandage around your forearm.

“Shit, man. What’s he look like?”

“Fucking hot. He’s British, for one. Tall, curly brown hair, green eyes, lots of tattoos. Also, he’s got the voice of a goddamn angel.”

“You’re not talking about Harry Styles, are you?” Laura asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you know him?” You wonder, surprised she knows his name.

Her jaw drops and she fully shoves ou off the bed, emitting a ‘hey!’ from you.

“Of course I know Harry fucking Styles. Are you serious?”

You blow your hair out of your face and lean up on your elbows, one leg still on the edge of the bed.

“No, I’m not joking, what the hell?” You laugh, pulling yourself back onto the comforter.

“How the- who- what?!” She stutters, looking at you expectantly for a story.

“He came up to me on the beach asking for a lighter, we smoked a j and just kind of started talking. I asked if he wanted to go to Mike’s with me and he drove me over, and I’m me, so I tried to pick apart his brain a little. We listened to his album, which, by the way, have you heard it? That shit’s incredible.”

“Of course I’ve heard it! The entire world has heard it! Keep going!”

“Jesus,” you laugh, shocked by her reaction. “He drove me back and we got a little deep, I gave him my number before I left. I think we kind of had a moment though, he looked like he wanted to kiss me for a second.”

You pull your knees to your chest and rest your chin on them, thinking back to that moment.

“Holy shit, Y/N,” Laura sighs, falling back dramatically on her pillow.

“I know. I feel kind of weird though, he seems very closed in. I mean, I get it, I saw that he has quite a bit of fame, but I don’t want to have to pry him open, y’know?”

“I mean, yeah, but he’s really fucking famous. His fans are some of the most die-hard people out there. And there’s a hell of a lot of people who would do unspeakable things to be in your position. Myself included,” she mumbles at the end, and you swat her with a pillow.

“Gah,” you moan, lying down next to her. “I don’t know how to navigate my way around that kind of fame. What if he sees that, or still thinks that I’m lying about not knowing who he is? That’d be a bit egotistical, though, so maybe I’d be dodging a bullet.”

“Nope! You are not missing out on an opportunity to fuck Harry Styles.”

You laugh, scrunching your nose.

“I don’t want to think of him like that. Just Harry, the dude who I’ve been relentlessly teasing all night.” You turn onto your stomach suddenly.

“Shit. What if I was being too much?”

You groan again, pushing your face in her pillow.

“Than he’s dumb for not realizing how funny you are.”

Your phone pings suddenly, and you grab it from your back pocket, not recognizing the number on your home screen.

“Shit, he just texted me.” You shout, standing up onto the ground while you read the message aloud.

Hey, Y/N, it’s Harry. Hope you’re enjoying the rest of your night, I just wanted to give you my number and thank you again. Tonight was probably the most fun I’ve had in a while, if I’m being honest, and I was wondering if you wanted to do lunch tomorrow?

“Oh, fuck ME, he just asked me out to lunch.” Your hand goes up to your mouth as you look wide-eyed at Laura, who’s expression matches yours.

“Bitch, say yes!”

“Okay!” you yell back, pacing back and forth.

hey harry ! i’m glad you had fun tonight, i was worried i might’ve scared you off haha. i’d love to do lunch, what time were you thinking ?

“Does that sound okay?” You hand your phone off to Laura, getting her stamp of approval before sending it.

“Ah! Okay, shit fuck, it’s sent.” You throw your phone onto her bed and lean against her door, waiting for his reply.

Your phone lights up not even two minutes later, a text from Harry reading,

Haha, definitely didn’t scare me off. If anything, the opposite. How does noon sound? I can pick you up if you’d like?

“A gentleman,” Laura sighs, fanning herself as you read it together.

“Shut up,” you mumble, blushing slightly as you type back,

well, good, i’m glad :). noon works great, here’s my address. sleep well, harry.

I’ll be counting down the minutes. Goodnight, love.

You scream as you read his last text, shoving your face in your hands.

“Oh my god, okay, Y/N, take a chill pill,” you tell yourself, taking a deep breath in. “Ugh, why am I getting so worked up over a guy?”

“Because he’s funny, cute, talented, and rich, bitch.”

You give Laura a look and she laughs,

“Okay, money, fame, and any prior knowledge I have aside, he seems like a great dude. And if he’s not, well, my dreams will be absolutely crushed.” She shrugs, going back to scrolling through Instagram.

“Oh, wow, thanks.” You roll your eyes, standing up. “I’m gonna make some tea, you want any?”

“I’m good, thanks though.”

You nod and shut her door behind you, going into the kitchen to turn the kettle on.

Hopping up on the counter while you wait, you decide to do a little bit of Instagram stalking, just to see what he posts.

You click on his most recent one, smiling at his caption.

“Kissy,” you mutter, shaking your head lightly.

Scrolling through a few more of his photos, you bite your lip at his outfits, incredibly jealous of his stylist. His feed is better than yours, if you’re being honest, and you smile at the thought of him making sure all the black bars line up.

Hearing the whistle of the kettle, you hop off the counter and pour yourself a cup of chamomile. Closing out the app, you take your mug into your room, turning on your lights that make your room look like you’re floating in the galaxy.

Placing it on your nightstand, you get yourself ready for bed, spending a little extra time washing your face and doing your skin care routine.

You slide into bed and open up your latest book find of the week, this one being Misery by Steven King.

You find your eyes drooping after a while and set your things on your nightstand, snuggling deeper into your blankets.

With a smile on your face, you drift off to sleep, excited for tomorrow.

16 notes · View notes

bcdrawsandwrites · 4 years

Text

Here’s a random, unpolished oneshot I wrote on a whim. Features the alebrije character Pizzicato, whom you’ll recognize if you’ve seen some of my other works.

In which Héctor winds up with an unfortunate nickname, and Gustavo learns why you don’t make comments about Héctor’s wife.

(Warning for some inappropriate comments from some of the characters.)

---~~~---

Héctor paused to lean his head against the cool metal handrail again, trying in vain to relieve the burning ache in his head. Shutting his eyes to block out the overcast sky ahead, he gripped the rail a moment longer, grateful they had actually bothered to install one on these stairs. (It was a rarity to have railings of any sort in the Land of the Dead, when one couldn't really die from a fall, but some buildings did have them, whether out of newly-dead contractors building them out of habit or from the insistence of people sticking to tradition.) After a minute, he heard a sleepy chirp from the tiny bat alebrije hanging off the back of his collar, and pulled himself away, forcing himself up a few more stairs.

He'd stop drinking one of these days, he promised himself. When he found a reason to quit, anyway.

Memories from the night before swam indistinctly in his mind as he continued to mount the stairs. He'd been working in the arts district, as usual, and had taken up some local musicians on an offer for drinking. While music was something he tried to avoid these days, the musicians had seemed friendly enough, and as much as he loved Pizzicato, talking with an alebrije tended to get a bit one-sided at times. Pizzicato hadn't exactly been thrilled with his joining them, he recalled, but the temptation of just... normal human interaction had been too strong to resist.

Might've been nice if the cerveza and tequila hadn't been too hard to resist, though.

Shaking his head (and then regretting it a second later when the world tipped), Héctor finally reached the top of the stairs, practically collapsing through the open window. Pizzicato gave a sleepy squeak in protest before snuggling back into his collar—he wasn't entirely sure why she was like that, other than that it probably had something to do with whatever happened the night prior. Leading him home while he was in a drunken daze, maybe.

"I was half-tempted to pull the stairs back up on you," Ceci muttered around the pins she held in her teeth. She didn't look up from her work, focused entirely on the dress hung on the mannequin before her. "What were you doing, sightseeing?"

"Buenas dias to you too," Héctor grumbled, pulling himself up to his feet and brushing off his hopelessly dirty jacket.

Ceci did give him a look, then, eying him over her shoulder. "Buenas tardes."

"Buenas tar... oh." He scratched the back of his head, blinking blearily. "Sorry. Lost track of time."

"Hopefully you didn't lose track of that delivery I sent you off with," she went on, resuming work on the dress.

"Oh, no no no, that's... that's all taken care of." Rubbing his hand over his eye sockets, he strained to remember yesterday. That memory was a bit clearer, at least—he definitely remembered the weird look the customer gave him when he handed him the package, and the lack of a tip. "I got it to them, no worries."

"Good."

He stood there awkwardly, hand on his wrist, as Ceci continued to work on the dress in relative silence (other than the record player running in the background—Héctor wasn't really paying attention to what it was playing, only grateful that it wasn't another de la Cruz album). Briefly he wondered if she'd forgotten he was there, and he pointed his finger to speak.

"If you're looking for another job," she began—Héctor flinched, the sudden volume sending a spike of pain through his head—"the dancers left a mess out in the gallery after their practice last night. The art crew won't clean it because they say it's not their mess, but they're still whining about the glitter getting into their paints." She paused. "And on the materials," she added, brushing something shimmering from the hem of the dress.

"Ah, g-gracias," Héctor stammered, passing through the designer's workshop and out into the main studio. At once he was greeted with the familiar sight of the hastily set-up barriers separating the work spaces of different artists. Many of them were lined with various paintings and sketches, but as Ceci had said, some of them were dusted in glitter. Frowning, he stepped up to one painting of a xolo dog, swiping his finger across the canvas to remove a few flecks of glitter... and yelped when some of the gray pigment came off with it, smearing on the painting. With a hasty glance aside, he wiped his hand off on the inside of his coat and speedily walked away, looking in the opposite direction of the painting.

"Okay, okay, glitter, glitter..." Head turned downward, he found scatterings of the stuff on the floor, and then looked up again. "Ah... I need a... uh... mop? No, no... broom? Dustpan?" He glanced over his shoulder, hoping Pizzicato might be of some use, but only heard a high-pitched snoring. Cute, but not helpful at the moment. Sighing, he looked to the walls of the studio, hoping one of the janitors may have left their equipment there, but no luck—only rows of outlandish costumes. Ugh... where was the janitor's closet, again?

Héctor poked his head into the entrance to one of the partitions, raising a finger and opening his mouth to ask, only to find several very, very tired artists and a skeleton posing nude for them. Clapping his hand over his eye sockets, he stumbled away. "Okay, okay, bad idea, do not ask the artists," he muttered, uncovering his face just in time to dodge another artist hurrying by with a large canvas. Looking around to make sure he wasn't about to collide with anyone else, he continued his aimless journey through the cluttered gallery. "Ask the... uh..."

The sound of laughter caught his metaphorical ears, and Héctor looked toward the far end of the studio, by the glass windows. They were still out of sight, but he was pretty sure he knew who was hanging out there.

His suspicions were confirmed by the sound of a trombone making a long, drawn-out note, followed by more laughter. "Right... ask... the musicians," he said, nodding to himself as he approached them.

As they came into sight, one of them spotted him and hastily shushed the others. That was... a little weird, but he was honestly too tired to care right now. He would've given them a sharp whistle to catch their attention, but was afraid of the noise only worsening his headache, and besides, they seemed to all be looking at him anyway. "Hola," he said, waving casually with one hand as he rubbed his head in the other.

"Ey, Héctor!" one of the violinists—what was his name, Héctor knew his name... Gustavo, that was it—said with a grin. "You doin' okay there?"

"Ehh... I've been better," Héctor said, making an effort to straighten his stance. It took a bit more effort than usual, but with the condition of his bones, what didn't these days? "Just... a bit too much to drink last night, I think."

"We could tell!" One of the musicians began to snicker, only to be elbowed in the ribs by another.

Héctor blinked. "Right. I just needed to ask a favor—"

"A favor?" one of the other violinists asked, while a few of her peers chuckled next to her. The noise seemed to be bugging Pizzicato, who stirred behind him, whining.

"Yes?" His bewilderment seemed to prompt a few more laughs that the musicians tried to cover. "Is... something funny about that?" he asked, briefly looking over his shoulder and wondering if his alebrije was doing something behind him to prompt the laughter.

"No, no," Gustavo said, waving his head. "Go on, what favor do you need?"

"I... just need someone to show me where the supply closet is. Ceci—"

The group immediately burst into laughter, the trombonist accompanying it with ridiculous playing. The sound was like a dagger being driven into his skull, and he held his hands over his head. "Ay, stop it!" he cried, staring at them in utter confusion. "What's so funny?!"

Finally Pizzicato seemed to be roused from her slumber, and he felt her little claws digging into his wig as she climbed up to the top of his head, squeaking in displeasure.

"Who do you want to meet in the closet, eh?" one of the musicians jeered.

"¿Qué?" Héctor blurted. He couldn't make any sense of what they were talking about. Whatever it was, Pizzicato seemed upset by it, letting out a growl, but he couldn't make heads or tails of it. "I don't... meet? I'm just trying to—"

"Not one of the girls, that's for sure!" the female violinist added, causing the others to laugh harder.

"I... uh?" That made nothing any clearer, and Héctor was feeling increasingly lost. It would make more sense if the group were just a bunch of cackling hyena alebrijes in disguise. But one thing was becoming clear—whatever they were laughing about, it was at his expense. But what would they...

A sudden panic bolted up his spine, and Héctor whipped around, yanking his alebrije off of his head. "Pizzicato," he whispered desperately, clutching the bat close to his face. "What exactly did I say last night?"

Of course Pizzicato could not answer, only staring up at him apologetically. But his question had apparently not been as quiet as he'd hoped, as Gustavo spoke up behind him: "Oh, nothing too important... chorizo."

The word was punctuated with a few ridiculous notes from the trombonist, and Héctor let go of the alebrije, turning back around to face them again. "C-chorizo?" he repeated. What did that have to do with...?

"Chorizo!" one of the other band members shouted, with a few others echoing it between laughs. Still none of that cleared it up, until another went on: "What a way to go!"

What a way to... oh. Right, that was how he'd... Was that what had happened last night? He'd rambled about how he'd died? That's what was making them laugh like deranged hyenas?

His chest burned in indignation. "W-well I'm sure the way you all died wasn't much better!" he said, gesturing at the group.

"Sure it was!" Gustavo said, getting close enough to elbow Héctor in the side. "Better than choking on a chorizo!"

"What?!" Héctor stepped back, hands up defensively. "That wasn't—! It was bad, I got food poisoning!"

"Sure you did, chorizo!"

He found himself staring at them as they continued to laugh, wondering why the difference even mattered, whether he died by food poisoning or choking on—

Oh.

...Oh.

His cheek bones burned furiously, and he turned away again, covering his face. "That was not what happened," he grumbled into his hands. Not that it would convince them. Pizzicato fluttered around nearby, squeaking angrily at the group, but he tried to wave her off. "Basta—all right, you've had your laugh. Very funny. Now could you just show me where the supply—"

"Ey, didn't you say you were married, too?" Gustavo asked, one brow raised, and the inside of Héctor's rib cage was suddenly burning in anger. "Did she know about—"

The shock of anger traveled quickly from Héctor's heart to his fist.

Next thing he knew, Gustavo was staggering back, supported by the trombonist while the other musicians gave ooooohs of both sympathy and interest. A small part of Héctor regretted the action, but the rest of him didn't care, and his fist remained clenched.

Stupid jokes were one thing, but to even dare to suggest infidelity...

"What's your problem, man?" Gustavo cried, rubbing his jaw where he'd been struck. "Can't you take a—"

Before he could finish, Pizzicato buzzed in front of the group, letting out a terrible, high-pitched shriek that left all of them shrinking back, including Héctor. The noise magnified his headache, nearly blinding him, and he staggered back, blurting out a curse. Immediately the noise stopped, but he was already storming away, eyes narrowed against the ringing in his skull. "Forget it, I'm done," he snarled. "Ceci or whoever can clean the place themselves."

Pizzicato was fluttering after him, squeaking an apology, but Héctor did not slow his pace. He couldn't find the stupid broom, but he knew very well where the exit was—a different one from the fire escape ladder in Ceci's room. Unfortunately, while he left Gustavo and his stupid group behind, the anger and humiliation followed him out of the studio, clinging to his bones. He punched the metal railing of the stairs in an attempt to rid himself of the emotions, but it only resulted in a shock of pain traveling up his arm.

Finally Pizzicato caught up to him, landing on his head and squeaking in concern. "You know," he muttered, narrowing his eyes against the light as he stepped outside, "I'm starting to hate musicians."

His alebrije whined, but said nothing more.

She didn't need to remind him.

#hector rivera #gustavo #coco #pixar coco #coco spoilers #my writing #fanfic #the musicians' dialogue was not particularly enjoyable to write #but it was necessary for the subject matter

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gotboredwrote · 5 years

Text

Six Questions // TM!JFM

Pairing: Tim Murphy x Fem!Reader Word Count: 6.7K Style: One-Shot (prompt: based on this amazing post by the lovely @love-me-a-good-prompt) Warnings: Angst (my first genuine attempt so go easy on me), fluff, mentions of intimate situations (in reference to art) Summary: Y/N works as a muralist at Tim’s museum, and he loves watching her work. After working up the courage to speak with her, they strike up a partnership neither one expected. After days and days of work, one extremely involved mural forces Y/N to stay late, and Tim offers to keep her company. A game of sorts ensues. Permanent Author’s Note: To clarify, I write because I get bored. Nothing is meant to be professional in any way, nor is meant to offend, cause anxiety, cause anger, cause sadness, or promote disagreement among readers in any sort of (semi)permanent way. A/N: I’m really on a Tim kick, huh? Who’s complaining, though, because it ain’t me.

Masterlist

What started as just a job to help kill some free time while finding a job that earned you money had become something you could genuinely say you looked forward to every single day. Originally, the offer from the museum included a grand total of zero dollars, but after completing two larger projects for them, they decided they wanted to keep you. Then the offer became something you would have to have been idiotic to refuse. Not to mention the money, the people you worked with were genuinely happy-go-lucky people, clearly in love with the work they do. It was also nice to see tons of people, big and small, young and old, light up when they saw an exhibit they particularly liked. You got to do this all from the sidelines, not having to deal with any anxiety from meeting people. One day, though, you could feel eyes peering into the back of your head. It almost felt familiar, to a degree, like the eyes had looked at you before. Except this was the first time you really felt it. You were up high on a scaffold, so you carefully turned around to see if what you were feeling was really the case. That’s when you saw him; the auburn-haired boy with a visible scar on his cheek who was destined to become your personal confidant, standing there, shy as a mouse.

You really were not sure what to do. One option was lower the scaffold down to get to the ground, but that would take a minute and the descent would be awkward. Not to mention, he could just walk away at any point, which would have been a waste of time to move halfway to the ground to just have to move back up. Another option was to simply return to your work and act like he was not staring at you. A third option would be to call out to him, see if he responds at all, or if he is simply just caught in thought. You have been there, so you did not have a reason to judge him for it. You decided on your third option, risking embarrassing him and yourself, but not wanting to feel the intense gaze on yourself any longer. You wanted to ask him ‘can I help you with something?’ but something in his gaze made you pity him. It was not a sad expression, but one filled with almost a yearning sensation. The seriousness of his expression changed what your brain allowed your mouth to say without even realizing it until the entire sentence had escaped your lips.

“Are you alright?”

Clearly taken aback by your sudden question, the boy blinked rapidly at you and his cheeks flushed with color. You felt terrible for making that happen, but it was not like you could take it back at this point.

“Oh… y-yeah! Sorry. I… I was just watching you work…” With every word he spoke, realizing how what he said might have come across as stalkerish, he got quieter and quieter. Something you would come to learn was a habit of his. He had an intense sense of doubt whenever he spoke to people, not thinking that his words were worth the time of anyone or anything but his own brain. “I’m not good at art, and it kind of… mesmerizes me when I see people paint. How it works. I’m no good at things that involve the use of my hands. So—” As he continued to talk, he realized the look on your face was one of pure shock and confusion. He assumed that it completely stemmed from the fact that he was rambling on and on about himself, something that you clearly have no reason to care about. Your eyes had gone wide, and your eyebrows furrowed lightly in the middle, raised up high. Your body still stiff as a board turned around, not moving once while he spoke.

“I’m… I’m so sorry, I need to shut up. I’ll just go—”

“Wait, please!” You never meant to sound that desperate. “Um… it’s okay, you know.”

“What is?”

“Watching me work. Kinda makes me feel validated.” You chose your next words carefully, wanting to make sure of two things; one, you wanted to make sure you did not insinuate something that you did not mean, and two, you wanted to ensure that the boy would come back and see you again. “I wouldn’t mind having company the next time you’re free and I happen to be working. If you’d like.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“Well, um… I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Y-yeah!”

Never had someone reacted the way the boy did to your work. Not even your family. They knew you were a fantastic painter, but they were not ones to really express it. When the museum offered your part-time, paid position, it was with a slight bit of enthusiasm, but nothing more. Just business. This boy… clearly different.

The next day, you had come to work early, to make sure you were working when the boy showed up. It is not like the two of you set a time to meet, it was not a date or anything. Heck, you did not even know his name. You just wanted to be thoroughly engrossed in what it was you were doing so you could see the admiration on his face again. You craved that validation after not getting it for years. Then you smelled it. The smell of a burger and fries from the food truck that always liked to park at the museum. It was always so good. How did it get inside, though? Then you heard him.

“I, uh, brought you some lunch, if you want to take a break.”

You whipped around on your scaffolding, him scaring you with his words, and him clearly flustered by the whole situation.

“Sorry! Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you! I just figured… you’ve been here for over five hours and haven’t had anything to eat, so… I hope you like that food truck. Wait. Sorry, I only know you’ve been here that long because I walked in behind you. I just didn’t say anything. God, I’m a wreck, sorry.”

Now you were smiling sweetly, holding back a small laugh that would have made the boys eyes sparkle with joy had he gotten the chance to hear it. You started to lower your scaffolding while he walked a little bit closer, not knowing where your boundaries were. Once the scaffold was all the way down, you hopped lightly to the floor, walking the small distance over to the boy. You reached out to grab your bag of food and smiled lightly at him.

“Honestly, you’re such an angel for bringing me lunch. I completely forgot to pack one today. So, thank you. How much do I owe you?”

“N-nothing. My treat.”

“I can’t possibly let you get away with that. I…” You chuckled breathily. “I don’t even know your name!”

“Tim. Tim Murphy. Doctor of paleontology.”

He spoke so fast you hardly made out what he was a doctor of. But it was endearing, to say the least. He sounded bashful, even about an accomplishment as good as his.

“Well, Dr. Murphy, I really appreciate the gesture. My name is Y/N Y/L/N, and I’m no doctor. More of a dunce, really. No degree or anything, just living my dream as an artist.”

“It’s nice to meet you. Officially.”

“Yes, it is.”

Tim could feel his heart swell. Never in his life, especially not since the incident, had he been this confident around anyone outside of his family. He never even treated the people on his dig team that way. But something about the air around you made it easier for him to breathe. Easier for him to be himself. Your presence was like an ice-cold canteen in the middle of an August day in the Sahara for him. He could not even explain why.

“Te-tell you what. I insist you don’t pay me, but how about you join me for lunch instead of eating while you work? We can go sit in my office. If you’d like, of course.”

“That’s a deal, Murphy.”

Ever since that second day of interacting with you, the two of you were practically inseparable when you were working at the same time. Lunches, and sometimes even dinners were spent together, just talking about nothing or simply enjoying the sounds of museum creaking away or the buzz of bugs if you ate outside. Sometimes Tim’s coworkers would see the two of you together and make some snide comments, but neither of you paid them any mind. You were too wrapped up in the way the other spoke and held themselves to really care. It was blissful, something neither of you had really experienced previously. For Tim, it was a normal day at work, so he expected the same from you. He had promised to make homemade quesadillas and bring them for the two of you to share, and he held up his end of the bargain. He made his way over to the enormous mural you had been saddled with working on and saw that you were feverously painting away as if your life depended on it.

“Lunch is served!”

He called up to you loudly, but not loud enough to disturb the museum-goers. Except that somehow, you never heard him.

“Y/N?”

Still no response, just intense painting. Tim started to almost feel like you were ignoring him, feeling his chest deflate a little bit. Afraid that after all this time, you started despising him and his ways, just like everyone else he encountered and befriended. He made his way over to where you had been propped up on the scaffolding, nowhere near as high as the first day the two of you had met. You had told him one time that you start at the top of your murals always because if paint would ever run down before you had a chance to catch it, you could always paint over it. If paint ran down onto completed work, you would have to do it all over again, and it would be an endless cycle of a waste of time and supplies. He waited until you stepped back for a breather, which took close to four minutes, and then he knocked on the metal scaffolding, as a last resort to catch your attention. When he knocked, he earned himself a startled reaction.

“Wha—! Oh, it’s just you, Tim. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ve been calling out to you for almost ten minutes, you know.”

“You… you have?”

“Yeah. You’ve just been really wrapped up in whatever part of the mural this is. Everything okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah… it’s just that… I don’t think I am going to have time to take a lunch today.” Tim felt the sinking feeling in his chest again, which had gone away when he finally got to look in your eyes. “And I know that today was quesadilla day, and I was really looking forward to it. It’s just… look, I’ll never get this project done on time if I keep taking half hour lunches with you. Believe it or not, I am on a deadline. Please don’t think I’m angry at you if my tone makes it seem that way, I’m just overwhelmed with how big this one is and I’m doing it completely on my own, and having to buy my own materials is barely being covered by what they’re paying me. I want to spend as much time with you as we have been,” and you never even noticed Tim had pushed the ‘down’ button on the scaffold to bring you to his level, “I just need this job more than I need a delicious quesadilla and—”

“Y/N.” He cut you off with the sound of your name, the sternness in his voice, and a hand on your wrist. “Now you’re the one who’s rambling.”

“I’m… I’m sorry.” You could feel the tears threatening to fall down your face.

“Look. You need to eat and take a break. You’re going to eat lunch with me, and then work through the night if you have to. And guess who will keep you company since they have a set of keys because they’ve stayed so late in the past that the janitors just made him a set of keys?”

“You’d do that?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’ve put up with me all this time.”

“I figured you’d be sick of watching someone paint by now. Someone who doesn’t have a bunch of cool stories from adventures they’ve been on. Sick of… me.”

Tim felt that sinking feeling return for the third time, but this time it felt different, somehow. This time it was like a pang of guilt, because he truly did not mean to give off the impression that he was sick of you. Far from it.

“I don’t understand how you could think like that. I could never get sick of seeing which part of your face is going to have the paint splatter on it each day.”

You smiled sweetly and proceeded to invite Tim onto the scaffold to eat with you, that way you could get right back to work afterwards. The two of you had lunch like it was any other day, and you could feel some of the tension leave your shoulders as you ate, Tim’s presence calming you down. Once both of you were finished, Tim lifted his hands in the air beside his head as if to say ‘okay, I did my part, you can keep working’ and you got the message. You cleaned up your plate and immediately went back to working. Once Tim had stood up and started to walk away from the scaffolding, you turned around and yelled over to him.

“Thank you for lunch! And… thanks for keeping me company. See you for dinner?”

“Of course.”

A smile was exchanged, and you moved the scaffold back up to where you had been working while Tim walked away. Despite being completely invested in your work, you could not wait for dinner to come around.

You completely lost yourself in your work again, failing once again to realize Tim’s presence. Heck, you did not even notice that the museum managers had locked the doors when they left, Tim informing them that the two of you would be staying late to meet some deadlines and that he could let you out when you were done. You had managed to get to a spot on the mural where you could have the scaffold at its lowest point, so anyone could take a small step upward and be on it with you. He did not want to scare you because he was afraid you would jump and then streak a color across the mural that was not intentional. So, again, he waited, this time with a bag of warm and fresh Chinese food in hand, until he knew that it would be safe to get your attention. Except that this time it took over ten minutes, and your body language gave off the indication that you were not in the mood to stop. He just stood behind you, watching the intensity on your face. It was laced with something else, though, and he could not place it right away. He moved his eyes back to the portion of the mural you were working on, and after looking at the art itself, he looked to your hand that held the brush. And he knew it was time to intervene, not just because the food was going to get cold, but because he could see the effects of exhaustion taking over. He knew them all too well. He would constantly have to be told by his dig-mates that he needed to take breaks and get some water because he would become so invested in the site he was working on that he would go hours without drinking anything. That is not something anyone should do, which is common knowledge to everyone else, but it was not easy for Tim to pry himself away. So, he knew where you were coming from in terms of loving what you do so much that you never want to stop. He quietly placed the food down next to him, and carefully took a few steps to close the space between the two of you, so as to not alert you to his presence fully. He squatted down and lightly laid his hand on your shoulder in an effort to calmly halt your movements. It worked better than he planned, so he continued his efforts to pry you away from the wall. You had not made a noise, had not turned to look at him, but you knew by the gentle nature of the movements that it was Tim behind you. You confirmed your suspicions when you saw a set of hands reach for your own, the one holding the brush. Scarred and beautiful. One of the hands reached to grab the brush, lightly squeezing the metal part situated between the bristles and the wood handle so he avoided getting paint all over his hand, and to leave room for his other hand to take hold of the one which held the brush. While placing the brush in the warm water you had laid out, his other hand gently wrapped around yours, easing the shaking. But he could still feel you trembling underneath the one hand, so he brought his other hand to clasp around yours and you could feel him start to massage the cramping muscles in your palm. Then he would take each finger one by one and work out the tension. Alternating back and forth between wide-scale massaging and focused attention on a small muscle that was clearly overworked. Eventually the shaking subsided tremendously, and Tim reverted back to wide-scale rubbing on the back of your hand and your palm. He spoke just above a whisper so as not to startle you and to let you know that it is okay to relax a bit.

“You need to take a break. You’re gonna end up breaking your hand if you keep going at this rate. Sit down with me, okay?”

Reluctantly, you let yourself start to lower to the ground, Tim not letting go of your hands once, and still massaging them. The feeling was soothing – so much so that you actually started to feel the exhaustion Tim knew you had to have been feeling. He was not trying to lull you to sleep, it was just beginning to happen naturally. He had not taken his eyes off of you, wanting to make sure that you knew he was there for you to help you through the stress and exhaustion. You were finally feeling like you could relax to the point of tears slipping down your face because you had not felt this calm in weeks. Your newly relaxed natured ushered a question out of your mouth without you even realizing it.

“Wanna play this weird game I saw on the news the other day?”

“Depends on how weird your definition of weird is.”

“Basically, I saw this thing on the news that said there is a game that can bring two people closer than a marriage of fifty years. It’s really simple… maybe, considering the state of being I am currently in, the game would not be the worst idea.”

“How do you play?”

“Well, basically, there is one rule for the game, and it’s 100% honesty. Each person gets to ask the other three questions of their choosing, and the other has to answer in their complete truth. No holding back from either party. It’s a test of someone’s willingness to be vulnerable and open with someone, even if they haven’t known them more than five minutes.”

“Would it keep you from stressing over this job?” You nodded your head slowly, making eye contact with him. “Well, then I’m game.”

The two of you move so you are sitting face to face, and still close enough together so that Tim could still massage your hand, since he can tell what effect it was having on you. The two of you both thought in silence for a moment, before you quietly spoke up, asking your first question.

“What’s the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you on a dig?”

“Oh… that’s easy. Hard to admit, but easy to answer.” You were still just blankly staring at him, and he was determined to get a smile on your face, even if it meant embarrassing himself in front of the most magnificent girl he had ever met. “This was… years ago. One of the first digs I ever went on as an actual PhD board-certified paleontologist, so probably about six years ago or so. I was prepared for everything, right? Like I had changes of clothes, a toothbrush, a tent. I was prepared. Then one day, in a desert that rain hardly ever touches, the sky just opened up. There were mudslides everywhere, but thankfully no equipment or things in tents were ruined. The sites were, though, and I happened to be working on one when it started pouring. And my ‘seat’ became one of those mudslides. I slid down a hill about thirty feet, completely covering my one side.”

He could see the sternness in your eyes die down a little bit, sparkling a little bit brighter than before. He knew the story was working. “So, after I managed to pull myself up from the ground when the rain finally stopped, I made my way over to the shower, honestly a little surprised that no one was using it. I stripped down behind the door, needing to feel like I wasn’t a man made of mud. I started to shower, like I normally would, and didn’t catch the noise of the door hinges moving. I had just finished getting the shampoo out of my hair when I turned around to turn the water off and then I saw her.”

The light in your eyes continued to remain, but the calmness in your face faltered a little bit at the word ‘her.’ You could not explain why, but thankfully Tim did not catch it. It was not like the two of you were dating, and this story took place years ago. You did not have anything to worry about, at least that is what you told yourself.

“One of the only girls on the dig that year had gotten herself into a pretty similar situation as me, and was so determined to wash the mud off herself that she failed to notice the water running. She swung the door open and stared just long enough so I knew who she was and she recognized me, but we both had the same idea right after; shut the door. I leaned forward, trying to grab the door, and she slammed it. Hit me right in the face, hard enough to knock me down to the ground. Had to reshower and everything. I couldn’t even bring myself to forgive her on the grounds of her looks or personality. She was not my type in the slightest.”

You were stifling back a giggle at this point at Tim’s exasperated manner of storytelling. It also had something to do with the fact that he admitted freely that she was not his type, giving you hope for something that you could not explain. He was still massaging your hand, too.

“Well, at least I got you to smile. I’d say that makes the story worth telling. Now it’s my turn. I want to know… What’s the most intimate thing you’ve ever painted and why?”

You had to think about it for a minute, because you had been painting seriously since you were about fourteen. It had been a long time since you considered yourself fully dedicated, and as commission work would come in, requests became more and more intense. Realistic. After about a minute of thinking while feeling Tim’s hands still press on yours, you realized what it was.

“It was a commission… for this guy. He had recorded himself, and he made a rather hefty request of me.”

“Wait.”

“Hm?”

“How did you know this guy?” It almost seemed like Tim was feeling the same way about the word ‘guy’ as you did about the word ‘her,’ but you did not make much out of it.

“Personally, I didn’t. It was an online commission. Basically, he had recorded something and wanted me to watch it. The specific request basically said ‘watch this entire thing and I want you to paint us,’ referring to himself and the girl in the video, ‘in what you consider to be the most erotic moment in the video.’ I had a basic idea of what I was going to be watching, but when I saw that the video was over twenty minutes long, I really didn’t want to continue with the request. But, after I told him that I would be charging him extra because of the absurdity of the request and he didn’t decline the price, I was committed. One of the biggest commissions I have ever gotten to this day, actually more than the first check this museum gave me. But I guess I still have to tell you what it was, huh?” You swallowed, remembering the video more so than the rendition you did. “He… him and the girl… I assume they wanted a painting of them while actually having sex, but he told me to paint what I considered the most erotic. There was a part before they actually hooked up where she was… um… straddling his lap, and he was sitting up, head level with her chest. They were really in the moment, both still wearing their underwear though, if that matters. But at one point she held his face and he looked up at her like she hung the stars in the sky. It was one of those moments where, at least for now, all that mattered in the world was each other, and that was what I ended up painting. So… yeah.”

Tim was looking at you with such an intensity that you could feel it in your chest, how fast your heart was beating. You could not tell if the image of the painting in his head was doing that or what, but it was a look on the boy’s face that you took a mental image of for a sketch later down the road.

“Oh… wow. That’s, um… quite intriguing that you chose that part. I, uh… gosh, it got warm in here now that everyone’s gone, huh? That’s not it should… work…”

“If the idea of my painting is bothering you that much, how do you think I felt watching that video, huh, Murphy?”

That calmed him down, hearing you revert back to your normal self after talking so quietly. It was like you were not tired anymore, lighting up in the presence of the smartest and dorkiest paleontologist the museum could have thrown at you. He loved having this effect on you, because never in his life, or his wildest dreams, could he imagine doing that for someone like you. Someone perfect.

“I think it’s your turn to ask me question two.”

“Ah! Right… let me think. …I almost don’t want to ask this, but before I do, you should know why I’m asking. I think they’re incredible and tell a story unlike any other, and I think they’re beautiful.” As you spoke your preface, you reached up with the hand that has been free this whole time to stop Tim’s motions on your hands to place his in your own and lightly stroke them with your thumbs. Clearly grazing over the pale white lines on them. “What’s the worst thing someone has done to you or said to you regarding your scars?”

You were still holding his hands, and you could feel them tense and get a little sweaty. In fact, you could see that his posture had changed, like his whole body had stiffened. It was not out of fear or remembrance of painful memories. It was disgust, which meant that there was a particular instance that came to mind, and it almost made you want to retract your question. Tim spoke before you could, allowing you to hear the real answer.

“I was having a sleepover with people who I thought were my real friends, yet I woke up to a room that smelled like sharpie.” You shot him a confused look. “I got up to find that no one was in my living room with me, all of their belongings were gone, and I could see a note on the floor where their bodies should have been. It read ‘look in the mirror, freak.’ I went into my bathroom and noticed a couple of black lines on my face and neck. Then I noticed them on my collarbone, my arms, my hands, my legs, and even my feet. They had found a sharpie and marked every single scar that I had while I slept, pointing out every single flaw that I have. Every single one of my insecurities, and called me a freak to top it all off.”

You could see the tears starting to form, and you despised yourself for wanting to ask that question. You hated yourself for a number of reasons; you had made Tim remember something he clearly did not need to, you had almost made him cry, you had made him admit his biggest insecurity, all of it because you wanted to play a stupid game.

“Tim… I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t mean…”

“But you know why I’m okay? You know why I’m not going to cry?”

You just looked at him, tears threatening to slip from your eyes, now.

“Someone has recently taught me that people like that don’t matter. They taught me to ignore the snickers we heard at work because they’re just jealous. And that same person just told me that they think my scars… are beautiful.”

“…”

“You really think they’re beautiful?”

“Is that your second question, Murphy?”

“No, but I have to know that answer more.”

“I couldn’t lie to you if my life depended on it, so yeah, I do.”

He let a single tear slip from his eye, wiped it away quickly, and proceeded to ask his next question. No preface other than a serious expression painted onto his face.

“Have you ever thought that maybe you will never make it as an artist?”

“Every single day.” No hesitation. No pause. No stopping to think. It was a question that plagued you from the moment you got your first commission, shockingly enough. “Not a single day goes by when I wonder if the commissions will ever stop. Painting for myself is great, don’t get me wrong. But I have no other skills. No backup plan. That’s why I fought so hard to get this job. They have me booked to paint the whole museum at some point, and once the unchanging exhibits are complete, they will give me advance notice about the ones that do so I can come repaint the walls. But that’s the only stability I have. Another museum may come and scout the work and hate it, making sure that I get no other museum recommendations. Plus, not too many people send in personal requests. I have to hope that I get long term contracts, or… I’m just done. Penniless. Homeless.”

Tim was looking at you with a melancholy expression. He had something in his heart he wanted to say, but it was not like the two of you were together. His offer would even be weird for people who had been dating for over a year. He held back, as hard as it was.

“Is my answer okay?”

“Oh… yeah! I mean… in the sense that you told the truth. Clearly. But… can I tell you something? It might be weird.”

“I’m the one that suggested this weird game, so obviously go ahead.”

“If the museum ever lets you go, and no commissions are coming in, and your strapped in more ways than one, come… stay with me. I have enough space. I can help you. The offer will stand, even if you marry someone and have kids with him. My home will always be open to you, okay?”

If the tears were not threatening to spill earlier, they sure were now. All you could do to hold back a choked sob was grab onto his hands and squeeze. A way of saying thank you without having to actually say it. He completely understood. Then it was time to move onto the final question for each of you, and both of you had known what you were going to ask when you first agreed to the game. They were both loaded questions, but for completely different reasons. Based on his reaction to the previous one you asked, you mentally braced yourself for the worst with this third one. He was doing the same.

“Tim… I want you to tell me about Jurassic Park.”

And he did. He told you about the giant t-rex that ate a guy in a latrine. He told you about the fact that his parents were going through a divorce and that was the only reason him and Lex were there. He told you about being constantly rejected in the beginning by a man he looked up to. He told you about Lex’s screams and how they kept him up at night. He told you about being stuck in a functionless car while a t-rex was stomping around it and knocking it around. He told you about falling many feet in a metal car, to be suspended for God knows how long with no help. He told you about how he threw up. He told you about falling through the tree and almost being crushed by the car. He told you about being trapped in a kitchen with velociraptors that were four times his size and eight times his weight. He told you about being electrocuted by a fence and falling almost ten feet. He told you about the rain.

He was sobbing. Hyperventilating. You regretted it completely. You wished you could have taken it back, but there was no turning back. There was no erasing the memories for Tim. Nothing could ever take the trauma away from him. But there was one thing you could do; be there for him in this moment. You reached over and attached your hands to his face, forcing him to look at you. To make him aware that you were there and he was not back there. There were no more living dinosaurs. That he was alive and breathing. That he had you there to help him. You used your thumbs to wipe the streams of tears rolling down his now red cheeks. It was like he had opened a faucet, and he was having trouble breathing. Once he realized that you were wiping his tears, his breathing slowed, and so did the tears. You kept wiping them away, somewhat uselessly since you did not dry your hands off in between. Then your hands stilled, the two of you just watching each other. And you noticed a stray, single tear. The last one. You did not wipe it with your hand, but instead leaned over to him to kiss it away. You tasted the tang of the salt within it, but did not mind one bit because all that mattered was making Tim feel better. To take him away from the place you forced him into. You kept your face pressed against his so he could feel the warmth of your lips and face, but you could feel him pull away from you a little bit. Just enough so he could look you in the eyes. He manages to steal a glance into them, and he realizes that you are crying just as much as he is, you are just a lot better at being quiet about it. It causes more tears to slip from his own eyes, but he could not care less. All he cared about was taking care of the desperation he felt regarding the human contact and love that he had been deprived from for years. In a very unlike Tim move, he crashed his mouth into yours and kissing you with such a fervor that you started to feel lightheaded. Once the two of you pulled away from each other, he could see that he had made your lips swell lightly, making them redder than before, and he could also see the shocked expression adorning your face. He thought you hated him now. He was an emotional nightmare and felt that the right thing to do was kiss you? He could not imagine how this scenario played out well for him. He started to inch his body away from yours more, starting to relentlessly apologize for making you uncomfortable. Except that was not how you felt. Not at all. You wanted him to keep going.

“Please… don’t pull away from me.”

With the speed of a bolt of lightning, his mouth had found yours again, kissing you like there was no tomorrow and these were his last moments with you. While his kiss was passionate, it was safe. Just lips. You wanted more. With all the effort you could muster in that moment, you tried nibbling at his lower lip, wanting his lips to look just like yours by the end of it all. Pulling apart because there was no air left between you two, he pulled his head far enough back where he could look at your entire face, and tilted his head gently to the side like a curious puppy. And it was time for him to ask the final question of the game.

“Do you think you could ever fall in love with someone like me? Someone broken?”

You looked back at him, completely sure of your answer instantly. You just had to be brave and say it.

“I think I already am.”

After having let out all the pent-up emotions and putting on a show for the security guard’s cameras, you went back to working, no longer worried about the deadline, no longer trembling. You stayed seated on the scaffold, working at the bottom of the mural. Tim nestled himself into your side, resting his head in the space of your criss-crossed legs, feeling completely at ease. He leaned the back of his head against your stomach, and felt the muscles in your torso move with your arm as you painted. Eventually, you saw the warm, yellow glow of the sun through the high-up window to your right, and you looked down to see that Tim had fallen asleep, head now facing your stomach, nose pressed right above the hem of your pants. You could feel both of his arms lazily around you, an effort to make himself comfortable since he wanted to make sure his head stayed right where it was. You had stayed up all night, not panicked at all, working on some of the smaller detailing that took longer. You placed your small brush in the water for a moment, though, to look down at the sweet boy in your lap. You did not have the heart to wake him up, considering the museum employees still were not scheduled to arrive for an hour. So, you decided to gently run your hand through his hair, but not hard enough to wake him up, earning yourself a small groan from the boy in his sleep, who then nuzzled his nose more into your stomach. A feeling you could get used to.

Permanent Taglist: n/a

Tim Murphy Taglist: @gardnerlangway @drtimmurphy

// If you want to be added to either taglist mentioned above, or the one for another character I’ve written for, send me an ask here! //

#tim murphy #tim murphy x reader #joe mazzello #joe mazello x reader #joseph mazzello #joseph mazzello x reader #jurassic park #six questions #fanfiction #fanfic #art #artist #artist!reader #palentology #mural #struggling artist

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swellwriting · 6 years

Text

Scars and Secrets

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, mentions of sex but no smut just a soft lil snogging sesh, oh and some bad words like fuck and dickhead :) that is all

Request: Not a request

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: It’s a weird plot but like, soft nervous Remus makes up for it. Also this bitch is long as fuck oops.

Sirius was being abnormally annoying, droning on and on and Remus and James had had enough they distracted Sirius telling him to look at something down the hall and Remus whispered the password puling James into the Prefect bathroom with him. They laughed as the door shut and they swear they heard Sirius yell. ”Guys?” In a confused manor.

They expected the bathroom to be empty, it was just after classes had ended, what they didn’t expect was to see you fresh out of the shower in just a large towel. Remus felt his cheeks heat up, his laughing coming to a halt.

“Y/N.” James said awkwardly as you sat at the edge of the tube rubbing lotion into your freshly washed skin, one leg lifted but you were turned to the side so you weren’t flashing the boys.

“Hi. You guys can use the bathroom if you need, you don’t have to just stand there.”

“Oh no, we were just hiding from Sirius. To bug him, he can’t get in here.” James rambled.

“Mhm, and you can Potter?” You questioned knowing Remus was a prefect but James wasn’t.

“Well I have been in here before, I’m on the Quidditch team.” You teasingly raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m well aware you are on the team but this bathroom is for captains only and prefects and sadly you are neither. But then again it’s not unlike the two of you to break the rules.”

“Oi mates? Are you in this bloody bathroom?” Sirius yelled from the other side of the door.

“Oh I should go with Sirius.” Remus said looking for a way out but when he opened the door Sirius barged in about to say something to his friends but stopping when he saw you.

You stood up and turned away from them grabbing a piece of clothing to put on.

“Oh we can go if your changing.” James stammered out and Remus just stood there silent wondering if he should look away, just the sight of your bare shoulders driving him mad.

“No its okay, I’ve mastered the art of getting dressed in a towel, not even the girls on the Quidditch team have seen me naked.”

“No one’s seen you naked? Like ever?” Sirius gawked.

“Well, no. I know it’s hard to believe with the stupid rumors, I know you probably have heard and believe them.”

Rumors had been going around the school that you were sleeping with Lucius for money, which was not true at all. Remus was growing more and more uncomfortable and Sirius took note.

“Ah rumors suck, James here knows all about rumors there’s been one for ages about him being in love with Lily! Ridiculous I know, anyway’s I should go.” He said pulling Remus out of the room leaving you there with just James.

“Honestly I did at first, Remus never believed it though, not for a second.” James said after a moment of silence. You were now fully dressed and you dropped your towel making James blink a few times, you were good at that.

You blushed at the thought of Remus not even believing the rumors about you for a second.

“As a matter of fact he pointed out all the plot holes to every Gryffindor in the common room.”

“He is sweet.”

“Anyways any reason why Lucius has it out for you.”

You gulped, this was the first time any one had asked your side of the story, your sadness so pent up you just had to let the truth out.

“Over the summer I dated this boy, I didn’t know he was friends with Lucius. He uh, well he was a shitty boyfriend so I ended things with him and Lucius has it out for me now, he goes to Ilvermorny though so at least I don’t have to deal with him. Just fucking Malfoy and his big mouth.” You paused hanging your towel up to dry and then continued sitting back down on a dry edge.

“Funny how you try so hard to hide yourself from everyone and rumors like this can even be spread, I haven’t even been seen in my bathing suit, how do people believe I’m this… this whore.”

“People like rumors. Speaking of, why haven’t you been swimming yet this year, Rem- I mean we miss you, you’re fun to have around.”

“I uh, I’m kind of insecure, this year more than others.” You frowned as your tears filled your eyes but didn’t dare spill.

“Why this year, I mean I’m not trying to speak out of my place but you look fine.” He gestured to your body.

“It’s not that I just, fuck if everyone knew the truth no one would believe a word out of Malfoys vile mouth.”

“Well tell me, maybe I can help.” He sat down beside you.

“My ex, was super nice for like the first week, but after that he got angry at me, he would yell at me and blame me for everything and by the third week he started taking it out on me, he would hit me and push me into things, I have scars all along my back from being pushed into furniture and broken glass. I just can’t bring myself to let people see them, they are so ugly.”

He was lost for words and could only try to joke.

“Remus has scars...” his voice trailed of thinking about his friend who was head over heels in love with you.

“That’s different, they look good on him. I like the one that goes across his nose, it’s cute.” You said the last part more quietly but James heard it and remembered every word to tell Remus.

“I’m sure the ones on your back are fine, but we could use them to our advantage.”

“Yeah how would we do that.”

“Well Lucius clearly doesn’t know what you look like naked , no one does, but he’s been bragging for days about your body and stuff so if I question him in front of everybody and he chokes not being able to answer my question about you having scars then everybody will see him falter and not believe him. And you don’t even have to be there or anything.” James blurted out.

“I don’t want people to know I have scars.” You trailed off.

“But it’s the only way I can think of to make people believe you. Unless you want us to just prank him, that’s more our specialty.

“I know.” You laughed lightly but tried to explain yourself further. “It’s just, nobody has ever shown any interest in me before and nobody will now after the rumors or the knowledge of my scars I just-” James cut you off.

“No I know how you feel; you think Remus likes his scars? I have to have talks like this with him all the time, he thinks himself unlovable because of them.” James admitted telling you secrets about Remus to try to make you feel better, without telling you too much.

You laughed. “That’s ridiculous, Remus is smart and sweet and cute.”

“And people will think that about you too don’t worry, it will be fine.” James assured you and you just nodded your head.

“Okay Potter, I’m trusting you with this.” You said sighing in defeat but hoping for the best.

“Okay, well how many are there?” James asked referring to your scars.

“What?” You said loudly standing up. “I don’t want to show you them.”

“You don’t know how many there are?” He asked trying not to push you too far.

“No, I can’t see my own back potter.” You defended.

“Okay okay, if I can’t see them will you let Remus? He is the least judgmental person when it comes to that kind of thing.” He asked but you just stayed silent a blush adorning your cheeks.

You didn’t speak for a minute and then James caught on a bit.

“You fancy him don’t you?” He asked you softly and sweetly.

You looked up to meet his eyes and smiled weakly. “Maybe a bit. And I don’t want to ruin my chances with him by having him see the part of my body I hate most.”

“Your back is your most hated part.” He said quietly, usually people would hate facial features or stomachs or such.

“As a matter of fact yes potter, all my other parts are fine.” You loudly defended misunderstanding him.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that I just, well I can see the rest of you is fine, I mean all of you, Remus thinks so… I know that, you know what I’ll just shut up.” He mumbled near the end fumbling over his words.

You giggled a bit but finally agreed, really things were terrible they could only get better now. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.” You agreed and James jumped up. “Well Wait, I should go to Remus first, uh so he knows the whole story before we have him stick his hand up your shirt, not like in that way. Just meet me in my dorm in like ten minutes.” He ran out the door and then grabbed it before it closed.

“You can bring Lily if you want, for moral support of course.” He smiled as he joked.

“Oh fuck of Potter.” You laughed and he disappeared so you made your way to your dorm to change out of the pajamas you had put on after your shower thinking you were spending your evening in bed alone.

“You said What?” Remus asked James loudly after hearing the whole story.

“I was saying that our plan relies on the number of scars there are and you’re the only one she is gonna let see them. Oh and You’re welcome.”

“What am I supposed to thank you? I could barely stand seeing her bare shoulders earlier I choked and had to have Sirius drag me out of the room and you want me to not only touch her bare back but have to count whilst I do it? I’m a complete idiot around her and you know it!”

“Well you have ten minutes until she here.”

“Ten minutes!”

“Actually more like two since I took all that time to explain the story and our plan.”

The color drained from Remus’ face, he instantly regretted ever confiding in his friends about his feelings for you, he wished they had listened to the part where he never planned to act on them.

“I shouldn’t have told you anything.” Remus protested angrily

“No, Moony don’t say that! She likes you too, she even said she likes the scar across your nose, she thinks it’s cute.” He paused as he watched Remus absentmindedly bring his hand to feel the scar across his face, one of the ones he hated most. “She didn’t say that?”

“She did and she called you sweet and nice and cute and smart too!”

“Yeah Rem, I don’t see a downside to this, just keep your composure so you can help the girl out, if you like her so much you will want to help her kill these rumors off.” Sirius added on trying to encourage his friend that he has watched fuss over you for as long as he can remember.

Before Remus could even agree or try to leave there was a knock on the door all the boys turned to each other and stared until peter spoke up. “Well are you dickheads gonna leave the girl waiting?”

“Okay I’ll let her in and me and Peter and Sirius will say we have to go collect other info or something.”

“Got it” Sirius and Peter said in unison and Remus stood there quietly.

Someone finally opened the door and you smiled awkwardly until James welcomed you in. “Hello.” You said awkwardly and the boys all said hello back except Remus who looked like he had seen a ghost.

“Okay so I explained everything to these gits here.” James started.

“I’m not gonna help if you call me a git.” Peter argued.

“You called us all dickheads a couple seconds ago.” Sirius argued back.

“Well is he wrong though?” You shrugged and smiled cheekily.

“If we were dickheads we wouldn’t be helping you.” Sirius said pointing at you and raising his eyebrows like he had made the most intelligent deduction. “Speaking of, Me, Sirius and Peter best be off to get the rest of the needed info on Malfoy.” And with that the three boys left the room.

You turned to Remus who still stood there awkwardly. “We don’t uh, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” You said getting his attention.

“Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?” He joked and sat beside you on his bed as you fiddled with your fingers.

“I uh guess so yeah. This can’t be that weird for you, I mean it’s weird but I assume you have touched a girls back before.” You laughed awkwardly.

“Can’t say I have no.” He coughed clearing his throat as his cheeks heated up in embarrassment.

“Oh I just, assumed. I haven’t done anything like that either so I’m really not one to talk. Not to mention no one has seen or touched my back since the summer.” The conversation was awkward and Remus’ heart fluttered hearing that you were just as unexperienced as him, not that this was anything sexual just he hoped that this would lead to more in the future if not just friendship.

“Okay, uh turn around.” He said his voice getting caught in his throat as you turned your back to him and sat cross legged pulling your hair out of the way.

You took a deep breath.” Okay Lupin, I trust you.” You whispered and his heart swelled.

Remus used one hand to lift up the back of your shirt reveling three scars going different directions. He coughed “There is um three. I think.”

“You think? You can um touch them, and make sure you remember exactly where they are.” You encouraged him and he took a deep breath bringing his hand to your back.

“Okay there’s this one that’s in between your shoulder blades, it’s really faint.” He traced it lightly his hand brushing over the back of your lace bra and his heart felt like it was going to leap out of his chest.

“And this one goes parallel with your spine.” He traced it down, it was a lot deeper and he felt bad for you, knowing some stupid guy did this to you.

“And this one, it starts here.” He started tracing from directly underneath your left shoulder blade. “And it goes across to your ribs here.” He stopped almost wishing there were more to trace but not wishing you to have to endure anything more than you have. He dropped your shirt and you turned around your face hot and you were embarrassed by how much you enjoyed that, maybe just because it was Remus doing it.

“Thanks” You said bashfully and then James came in.

“Okay we are gonna confront him right now, you can wait here y/n and don’t worry we are going to make him look like a fool.” Remus explained to James the scars and their locations and insisted he stay in here with you and wait.

James and Sirius and Peter stopped Lucius in the hallway, just enough people around to witness and Sirius took the lead.

“So I heard about you and that Y/n girl.” Sirius said as casually as he could.

“Yeah, Black. You heard correctly. I thought you guys were friendly with her?” He questioned remembering seeing them together at some point.

“Not as much as you.” Peter chimed in but James glared at him.

“What he means, is not so much this year. We can understand why now; you have been keeping her busy.” Sirius faked a laugh as he spoke, wanting to punch himself in the face for his own words.

“Yeah, I’ve kept her quite occupied.” He smirked people stopping to hear the gossip.

“She’s pretty hot yeah?” James asked and Lucius nodded raising an eyebrow.

“You probably memorized every inch of her haven’t you? You could probably tell us every detail about her, like every freckle or tattoo or mark.” James quipped.

“Yeah you probably know her back like the front of your hand.” Peter added in ruining the saying.

“I don’t think that’s how you say that, but yeah I would say so.” He bragged.

“Well tell us.” Sirius demanded and every eye in the hallway was on them.

Lucius’ eyes widened. “Why should I?”

“Well you haven’t kept anything else a secret why this?” James asked curiously.

“Oh of course she is uh, flawless that one, I mean smooth skin, a few freckles maybe.”

“That’s it?” James asked.

“Positive’ He replied.

“Well, if you actually have been paying her for sex-”

“I don’t pay her for sex, she does it for money because she is a filthy whore.” He spat growing angry.

“As I was saying, if you had really known her body so well you would know she has exactly three scars on her back, put there by your friend over the summer, the one she dumped which is the whole reason you created this stupid rumor about her.” James yelled and Lucius backed up.

“You have no proof.” He barked like a scared dog with its tail between his legs.

“What? Almost like you have no proof in these rumors you started? Pathetic Malfoy, only you would create a rumor in which you still had to pay a girl to fuck you.” The small crowd cheered and laughed at the insult making Lucius speed walk down the hallway. One of the people near the back of the crowd was Lily who smiled watching the Potter boy do something so selfless, she took note of it as she walked away, maybe he was changing.

Whilst all this happened so perfectly you and Remus sat unaware in his bed, once James left the room your turned to Remus facing him. You sheepishly looked over his face “My turn?” You asked and his face fell, you really had no idea how many there really were. “You want to see my back?” He asked confused.

“No I just.” You closed the space between the two of you moving your hand to his face tracing over the one across his nose, your face so close to his he could feel your breath, it smelt like strawberries which he determined must have been from your pink chapstick that he desperately wanted to taste.

“I hate the ones on my face.” He admitted as you traced them, you placed your other hand on his shoulder.

“Really? This one is my favorite.” You smiled.

“Yeah, James told me.” He blurted out before he could stop himself and you took your hand away looking at him.

“He did? What else did he tell you?” You asked mildly annoyed with James.

“Oh nothing that’s it.”

“I find that hard to believe. If Potter spilled one thing, he probably spilled all of it.”

“He may have mentioned that uh, that you might fancy me.” Remus whispered the last part timidly.

“Really? He said that? He said the same thing about you too.”

“What that I fancy Myself?” Remus joked and you laughed.

“Yeah exactly.” You agreed as you watched him look over your lips and lick his own.

“But based solely on the way you are licking your lips and staring at mine I would assume you fancy me too.”

“Oh really?” He smirked.

“And a few other things gave it away.” You teased and before you could continue he pressed his lips to yours roughly, the kiss felt like an eager question and he ran his tongue over your lips tasting your chapstick.

He wrapped his arms around you holding you close, you gasped lightly and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth deepening the kiss, you moaned lightly as he squeezed your sides but before anything more could happen the door swung open and James yelled.

“It worked!” The boys pilled in just to freeze at the sight of you and Remus breaking apart from kissing, Remus still holding you close.

“Worked better than we planned actually.” Sirius corrected but James was quick to object.

“No I totally planned that part too. I get credit for that.” He said excitedly seeing the both of you blush as you hid your face in Remus’ neck.

“Thanks James.” You mumbled and he came and sat directly beside you.

“Don’t thank me, actually do thank me by bringing Lily to Hogsmead this weekend. It can be like a double date.”

“What about us? We helped too.” Peter added in.

“I can get my own date.” Sirius bragged and Peter pouted

“Is that what you call helping mate, a few snarky remarks.” James asked still sitting uncomfortably close to you and Remus.

“I’m sure I can find someone for Peter too.” You laughed genuinely, your day went from utterly terrible to amazing in a matter of an hour and you couldn’t be happier.

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