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moonsbypadfoot · 1 month

Text

interest | theodore nott x female reader.

warnings : angst, fluff, based on real live events that I am still going through! (Some parts are still made up, I've only experienced the first half, the second half are made up) 😘🙃, slytherin reader (doesn't really affect the story), usage of y/n, short, short, short fan fiction, wrote this in like 30 mins, english isn't my first language and I am convinced that I'm dyslexic, second person pov,

have fun reading!

🦖

it was your fifth year at hogwarts, fifth year being friends with pansy, and your fifth year being hopelessly inlove with theodore.

yes, you've had 'relationships' before him, but he was still at the back of your mind. theodore was still lingering.

Theo seemed funny, moody, and so much more, but, you didn't expect him to like books.

Pansy looked down while eating her food, and simply said "you're reading little women too? Theodore loves that book" To which you hushed her immediately.

But that didn't stop you from asking her about Theo,later that day. "He likes it? " You asked, showing the book to pansy, "who likes what? " Pansy scrunched her eyebrows, and you groaned loudly.

"Theodore, pansy, Theodore! "

Pansy nodded her head, saying "oh yeah, he likes it". You gasped at how chill she is, and you said " This might be it pansy! ".

And oh you were right, it is it. You and daphne were sitting on a bench, gossiping about other people. When all of the sudden, Theodore passed you two, and said "Laurie, mhm? ".

"So you do like little women? " You and daphne's attention were shifted to him "since forever", and just like that, he left.

That became a more and more of a schedule for you to sit on that same bench everyday, on the exact same time. Daphne doesn't know that you still like him, it was well common knowledge that you used to like Theodore, but, everyone thought that you had moved on.

Daphne was so tired of Theodore, that whenever she sees him coming to you two, she'd roll her eyes sand say stuff like 'here he goes again' and make the biggest sigh ever.

Your first 'real' conversation was him coming up to you, saying "I like jo more than amy". At that point you didn't know what to say, neither Daphne or Pansy was there to make you less tense.

You scoffed "Amy is way better". You tried to keep yourself cool, and you did just that.

For days to days you two became closer. You'd have little chit chats after dinner, and your liking for him became bigger, but it shouldn't have.

"I have some little women.. Merch, I can send it to your room, later" Theodore suggested. "First of all, pansy would kill me if I had a boy in my room. Second of all, that will not happen cause if you do the stairs will turn into a literal slide and make you look stupid" You said, to which he just started at you.

You stupidly dreamt of him in your room, which is obviously forbidden.

Unsurprisingly, Daphne eventually found out about you still liking him, and she's convinced that Theo likes you back.

"Do you not remember what he said? 'I used to like little women, now I like it again because of her' and the boy pointed at you! And do you not remember quidditch? "

Oh boy, you do remember Quidditch.

His Quidditch match was last Wednesday, and two days before that, you two made a bet. If he won, you have to give him 15 galleons, and if he lose, he has to give you 15 galleons.

See, that same week, your professors had bombarded everyone with exams. So, if it wasn't for him you wouldn't have watched any of the Quidditch stuff.

That Wednesday, you kept exactly 15 galleons in your pocket. And, unsurprisingly he won. The slytherins celebrated like crazy, and, after that, you came up to him, saying "I could've bought myself candy but, I have your 15 galleons".

"No need for that," Theodore softly smiles, and went back to his friends who were cheering and waiting for him.

That day you couldve swore you spent a thousand hour telling pansy what you felt.

All of the sudden, Theodore didn't seem interested. You hadn't told Daphne about this, but pansy is so mas at him for the sudden stop of interest.

"See, boys are immature" Pansy groaned and rolled her eyes. "I wanted to know about his friend and, theodore-"

"Not so loud! " You sushed her, reminding that you two were still in the great hall. You doubt anyone heard you but, still, for safety reasons. "How about.. My 'him', we can call him uh.. "

"Toaster, cause if he doesn't act right Im gonna-"

"Hold your horses, pansy, let's call him trex"

"Fine, you're way too nice for that guy, and uhm, what should I call my 'him'? " Pansy asked, and, there was one minute of silence.

"Maybe trial number #2? "

That was the day your nicknames were born, and, things excelated from there. 'Trial #2', which is blaise, talked to pansy in the Slightest way possible, and 'trex' which is theo is talking to you, but he makes the conversation as dry as possible.

Theo is almost always the conversation starter, but when it comes to keeping the conversation going, it's you, and it is hardwork to keep Theo talking to you

That also reminded you of a conversation you had a long, long time ago with millicent. About how he's broken home and doesn't have a mother, and turns out it was true.

"So, that explains the on and off thing with you and him" Pansy shrugged "if you're really in love with him, you're in some really deep shit. Trial #2 barely talks to me"

and in deep shit you are, as the days became longer because he didn't want to talk to you. Pansy convinced you enough to just stop talking to him.

You felt better but, there is still something in you still craving him dearly.

"He's just there, pansy, like.. Like a word about to be spoken, but then vanishes out of our brains! One second he's there and the next he's gone! " You complained.

What made you more confused is that, you and him became more confusing. You felt like you're more than a friend, but you don't know what it is because of one thing he said.

It was common for you friends, lorenzo, and Mattheo, to tease you about Theo. It's as if they know.

Obviously, Theo was there too, along with Daphne next to you. "Y/n, I think you and Theodore are a good fit" Lorenzo laughed, and the others chimed with agreement. But, it was a subtle whisper from Theo that made you down for the rest of the day. "Don't say that, I like astoria"

You kept laughing, though it was obvious for those who actually knows you that your laugh was so fake.

You kept ignoring him, and you truly do feel better for once. As pansy says 'give him taste of his own medicine ' and you did what she said, and you felt better, for awhile.

Till he came up to you and forced you to confess.

"The fuck is wrong with you y/n? " Theodore said. "What do you mean? " You said, but, the pit in your stomach tells you exactly what he means.

"You're avoiding me. I thought we were friends"

"That's the problem" You said, in a confusing tone, which made him think.. Was it a question or a statement?

"I thought we couldve been more, Theo" You rolled your eyes at his oblivion, and you paused "you like astoria, don't you, mhm? You said it yourself".

Theo frowned "don't act so innocent, you and Macmillan were so close I thought you two were dating".

"I wasn't" You paused, "I moved on a long time ago, unlike you, no one moves on in the span of two weeks".

"Her friends told me she doesn't like me! "

"So what? That makes it right? I don't care if she likes you or not, I care if you like her or not. If I'm just your second choice, this won't work. Pansy told me that I'm better than any boys in Hogwarts, and I agree with her! Because boys like you suck"

"I like you, okay? Will you get that into your thick skull?" Theodore groaned and rolled his eyes.

"You're weird" You said, "what about me Is weird? " Theo asks.

"Your on and off stuff. You act interested, then when I actually wanna talk to you you get so dry, do you not think of that? Or you're actually really dumb? "

"You ignored me too"

"That's because I wanted you to feel what I felt! "

You honestly felt sad but, anger was more visible. But Theo looked emotionless. He wasn't happy, angry, sad, he was just there.

You both wanted to say something, but you didn't. Neither you nor Theo said a thing. You opened your bag and found your book, well, technically his.

"Here's a book that i borrowed" You said, giving it to him. "You can keep it" Theo pushed the book back to you, but your hand didn't budge. "No thanks, theo.. Ive written somethings in pencil. Don't worry too much because it's so thin you could barely tell what I wrote, a single swipe with your finger or eraser, it'll be gone".

A week has passed. And you knew for a fact he didn't re read the book.

On your favorite page, you wrote 'three broomsticks, next month, 9:00 AM? ' a month ago.

You knew way more than to come there, or did you?

499 notes · View notes

nouvxllev · 3 months

Note

Hi, just wanna say I love your stuff! I was wondering if you’d do a Jenna x reader who is the daughter of Winona Ryder and Jenna meets her on the set of Beetlejuice 2. Winona acting as a wing woman for Jenna.

head over heels, your hand over mine

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

Summary: ^ request!

Words: 5.0k

Warnings: longer than i intended it to be

a/n: first of all... tysm!!! and second of all, thank you for the request!! means alot to me and i wrote it to the best of my abilities, hope you'll like it!!!

seq. || masterlist

Shit, shit, shit...

Jenna cursed under her breath as she practically hammered down the first-floor button as if that was going to make it go faster.

She glanced over to the indicator right above the door, the numbers slowly inching towards the ground floor. Her foot kept directing her side to side in the elevator, a stressed back-and-forth pace she caught herself on all while she gripped the Beetlejuice 2 script right in her hands, the paper almost being punctured with holes and such.

Jenna could almost blame herself for this.

Actually, she does. She damned herself so much she wouldn't be surprised if she got hit by a bus, really.

It wasn't any other day you'd get a role in Beetlejuice, 2, might she add, and even landing the role of the daughter of Winona Ryder who is possibly one of the most outstanding actresses out there and a 90s icon.

And now she's just slightly fucking it up with first impressions with how she's atleast 10 minutes late to their set because she spent her entire night in reading and rereading the script over and over until she perfected her lines to the point it's probably better if she'd just make Beetlejuice herself.

When the doors slid open, Jenna bolted out until she made her way to the entrance, her hand tightly clutching that damn script and her other gripping the strap of her bag.

Fumbling with her phone to call an Uber, she couldn't help but grimace at the thousands upon thousands of texts saying that she was late and her alarm clocks repeatedly being turned on to snooze just minutes before.

Of course, this day of all days just so happened to be the day that the universe decided that it had a grudge on Jenna for whatever reason because all Ubers were somehow booked and it would probably take atleast 30 minutes for another one.

So, like the hardworking actress she is determined to get a first impression even with punctuality falling behind her, she ran.

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It wasn't long, thank-fucking-god, till Jenna got to set. She slowed her pace a little when she saw the cameras and people surrounding a particular area.

She took a moment to compose herself as she approached them, smoothing down her pants and fixing her hair all while she tried to catch her breath before possibly collapsing on the ground. The crew members spared her a glance, how comforting, even if they all had concerned looks on their faces.

Jenna always worked with such talented actors and directors, and now here she was working with Winona Ryder meanwhile she was looking like she ran a marathon on the side while going to set.

"You're here!" Winona called out, lowering the script in her hands while she offered a warm smile. "We almost thought there were some complications in your schedule."

The young actress offered a sheepish smile, embarrassment flowing in her mind as she offered a weak hand gesture. "I'm so sorry, all Ubers were somehow booked and I woke up late." She admitted before introducing herself. "I'm Jenna. Ortega." She added.

Winona chuckled, "No worries. The tech team is sorting out some equipment issues, so it's a bit of free time right now." She explained, offering a handshake. "Winona Ryder. Your mother. Well, on-screen." She joked while Jenna laughed with it.

"God, sorry if I look worn out. I really admire your work, it's all so amazing." Jenna took her hand, reciprocating the gesture. She was almost going to add something until a figure approached Winona, looking like a split-perfect resemblance of her. And oh how she did the fastest double-take in her whole life.

"Oh, right!" Winona pulled, possibly the most prettiest and gorgeous, girl Jenna has laid eyes on in her 21 years of continuous breathing by the shoulders and pushed her in front of the young actress. Now life without you suddenly looks like something she just completely wasted her precious time on.

Just by looking at Winona and how excitement reflected in her eyes, Jenna could tell how much she beamed with pride for her daughter; it made her heart swell.

"Meet my daughter, Y/n."

There were things Jenna should do when she meets someone. She introduces herself in a calm manner and maybe engage in some friendly talk with them whether if it's the most awkward-est thing in her life or one of the moments she'd like to spend forever in.

What she shouldn't do is slowly have a mid-introduction nosebleed, completely throw out the knowledge that she has the ability to speak and say words while her mouth is half-agape and her eyes wide and never blinking. This rule seems to be more strict when she's convinced she has met the love of your life.

It's safe to say that Jenna checked all the boxes on the latter.

Jenna met your gaze, and oh how that was the stupidest decision she had ever made in her entire life. She felt a blush creep up her cheeks, breath caught in her throat, she tried to speak for a second but nothing came. It was like she was drowning but in the best way possible. And also falling head over heels in the worst way possible.

It's concerning how she almost wants to drop down and marry you on the spot; she's already rehearsing her vows inside her brain.

Jenna raised her hand, a shaky one at that, to offer a handshake. "I'm Jenny," she managed to squeak out, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at fumbling her own damn name. "I mean, Jenna! Sorry, not Jenny. I'm Jenna. Jenna Ortega." Oh, fuck, please just slit my throat already.

In every bad and awkward introduction, there's always someone from the other line slightly concerned but plays with it.

Your eyes crinkled, a bright sight to see that would put all sunrises to shame, and your lips parted like how the clouds part after a gloomy day, letting out a laugh that calmed Jenna's heart almost immediately. It was still running and skipping a fuck ton of beats per second, but your laugh seemed to warm it all.

"I'm Y/n, of course." You held Jenna's faltering eye contact as you reciprocated her gesture, "I'm really only here to accompany my mom," you explained. Please stay here forever. Better yet, be with me. Jenna almost said.

You shook her hand in the most softest way possible, her palm fitting right into yours. "Can't believe I met you, honestly." Jenna heard you mutter under your breath, a squeal following it.

Oh, if falling head over heels over you was a sin, she'd gladly be the epitome of something so mortal.

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

And that was only a week ago. Just imagine how much internal panic she goes through whenever she sees you now.

Jenna repeatedly cursed under her breath, staring at the reflection of herself in the mirror as she gripped the cold parts of the sink, glaring at herself in complete thought.

Almost so serious as if her mind wasn't battling with something so completely stupid she'd rather drown in self-pity and misery.

Jenna Ortega, deemed as America's #1 IT girl who practically swooned all seven continents by now, almost had a near anaphylactic shock when her hand grazed over yours and how you gave her possibly the most sweetest and soul-crushing smile with that stupidest crinkle in your eye to ever exist on this damned earth, holy fuck.

Why should she be so head over heels for you?

She lowered her head in defeat, a heavy sigh escaping her as the same image of your smile flickered in her mind, and now a stupid grin from your stupid image graced her lips.

It was only a week in being on the Beetlejuice set, and she damn near lost her mind.

You were always there, well of course you were there since you were Winona Ryder's daughter, but she didn't expect to be so obsessed with you to the point she needs to go to the bathroom to silently scream whenever she hears or sees your intoxicating smile.

It's sweet. Almost endearing to her.

As if she even has the right to even think about you in that way.

Jenna stepped outside, patting her hands dry by the hem of her shirt. her name already being called out by the directors, their voices only getting louder and louder until it dwindled down to nothing and she could only assume that Winona stopped them, it was still her break after all. She was almost like a real mother to her, a comforting one at that.

She started to take a pattern in her steps before she saw you sitting on the railings of the trailer. More importantly, Jenna's trailer.

Okay, she shouldn't have seen this as a sign from the universe that you liked her back, but she did and that was all the hope that the fate or whatever deity could do because she was too desperate and too drunk on the lack of attention and attraction you were giving her.

But how could she not do that when you look so perfect just being... you? Being everything she wanted? Needed? Just being so damn perfect almost feels like Jenna could die.

"You like my daughter, don't you."

Jenna looked behind her, the sudden voice that crept being Winona, the mother of the daughter she had been smitten for, a noticeable faint smile on her lips. It was more of a statement than a question. A fact, really.

Jenna could almost deny it if it wasn't so accurate. But what was she supposed to say? "Yes, I do like your daughter, in fact, I love her so much I would absolutely give up my very career to buy her the most expensive wedding ring to ever be created from the hands of a human, or even a Greek God perhaps, to show that she owns my entire heart, body, and soul."

Panic was evident, Winona could clearly tell by the way Jenna looked like was scramming to think up of a half-assed excuse.

"Yes—I mean, not like like. I love her, really. She's talented, hardworking, and passionate in the things she talks about. But that's really it; I love Y/n, in a friendly way." Jenna stammered. Even if she was spouting complete lies and nonsense about how she doesn't have a massive crush on you, her gaze was stuck on, of course, you yourself.

Winona arched an eyebrow, "Jenna, I know when someone is horribly in love with my daughter and who’s not."

"The both of you were always somehow joined together, even if none of you were talking. You’re always finding a reason to bring her up in a conversation even if no one was even talking about her. Also, everyone takes notice of how your gaze was always focused on Y/n. Even on scene, you couldn’t take your eyes off of her for a second."

Yeah, that seems about right.

Jenna sighed, her line of sight never laying off of you. It's amazing how you still haven't noticed she and your mother was staring at you like a bunch of stalkers.

"Y/n deserves someone like her, someone in her league," she turned around, now walking in the opposite direction to her original one. She almost sounded like a teenage boy who realized they couldn't get with the popular girl. "She looks like someone even from the heavens above couldn’t fathom they created her from their own mind and hands."

Winona's expression softened as she caught up to Jenna, now walking beside her. "If you, The Jenna Ortega, fail to get her attention and love then it's all over for us." She never heard someone talk so romantic about her daughter, it's truly unfair how the ones who love the most always fall short.

Jenna's steps slowed, her body slumping against the fall as her gaze was fixed on the ground. God, why was she acting like this over you?

The young actress nodded, her hands going up to her face and sliding them down as she spoke, "She's like this incredible and unattainable dream you want to continue after you wake up, Winona." She mumbled through her hands, "Y/n's gorgeous, gentle, charming, and just… perfect." She let go of her face, her hands now on her sides. "It's intimidating just by looking at her, knowing she's the essence of beauty and perfection. Like, how do you compete with that? Overall be someone who she wants to stick by her side?"

The actress observed the young one, Jenna's head down and fidgeting with her rings. Winona could almost say that this was the most vulnerable sight she ever saw from her. "You don't have to match her perfection, let alone measure yourself up to that; you just need to be the missing piece she didn't know she needed. "

Jenna took a deep breath, her head slowly rising, "I just don't want to mess it up. She deserves someone as awesome as her, and if she ever likes me back, I'm afraid of waking up and realizing I'm not enough for her to be someone she loves."

Winona tilted her head, crossing her arms, "Tell you what, I don't know much about my daughter now. She's not closed off, but she isn't open either." She could see how Jenna flicked her head upwards, listening attentively. "But I do know that she's been watching all of your movies and shows up to this point."

Jenna's eyes widened in surprise. She doesn't wanna take any risks, but she doesn't wanna lose any chances either. "She... she has?"

Winona nodded, a soft and warm smile playing on her lips, just like the one you always have if not more comforting.

"I could never hear the end of it. She says you have this genuine charm whenever you speak, you're calm but you're also being true to yourself. Y/n admires you so much, I almost get sick of it," she laughed that pulled a chuckle from Jenna. "You're perfect in her eyes, but that's not what she likes about you. She likes you because you're authentic, yourself." She reached out for Jenna's shoulders, giving it a reassuring squeeze, "I'll be your wingman. I'm sure you're the perfect girl for my daughter."

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And that was maybe two to three months ago.

Now Jenna's thinking that you might be the most oblivious person to ever roam this entire globe. She's been dropping hints everywhere you go and you still wouldn't catch up that she has feelings for you!

Ever since Jenna got into Winona's wing, she knew everything that makes you happy. Your music taste, what type of flowers you like, what type of outings you like, clothes, scents, foods, colors, even legos, just basically everything under the sun she gave to you within a heartbeat.

Jenna gives you flowers everyday, hell even bouquets if she's feeling fancy. Reads and writes you letters, and ever since Winona gave her your number, she's been sending you voicemails of your favorite songs every morning as some goodmorning text. She's been nothing but romantic to you! Was she just missing something?

The only thing that really progressed was something of strangers to friends. The two of you were as close as ever to the point if one of you were needed, somebody probably would need to surgically remove both of you.

But that was it! No nothing, just friends. It was selfish for Jenna to want something more when she has the love of her life close to her as a friend, sure, but she needed just a little bit more before she mentally goes insane.

"I mean, come on!" Jenna complained to Winona, sitting across from the other chair just right beside her trailer, script in her hands but she was paying more attention to Jenna. "Flowers, letters, voicemails… I'm practically screaming 'I like you' at this point." She slumped over the table, "or maybe she's just really ignoring them."

"I think you're thinking too deeply, Jenna," Winona stated, looking over to somewhere far, "maybe you should confess. She's right there."

Jenna was about to stand up and say it all out and die in a hole if she gets rejected until she realized you were wearing something so... fucking gorgeous? stunning? breathtaking? ethereal? She needed a stronger word than all words combined.

It wasn't your everyday casual wear, in fact, it was something you'd wear to go on a date. A date that meant something, a date that you'd go with another person and to confess their love.

Oh, don't fucking tell her she was too slow to confess and some random dude confessed earlier.

"I don't..." Jenna stammered, she could sense that agonizing feeling of her heart sinking, a stinging pain but it was mixed with immense pressure, like she was almost drowning. "I don't really think it's the right time."

Winona let out a sympathetic sigh, "she did tell me that she was going somewhere important." She waved in your direction, grabbing your attention. "Y/n!"

Jenna didn't know it was possible to drown without having any bodies of water near you, now she was fully experiencing it by how her heart sank even further as she heard Winona's words.

She shouldn't be surprised, after all, somebody actually had the guts and mindset to actually confess to you personally without having to hide behind a facade and without having to drop a fuck ton of hints instead of saying it out loud.

It stung. Thinking that someone out there was that one for you. And how that someone was never Jenna. But it was sweet. She winced.

Jenna couldn't shake the pang and sting of disappointment as she watched to walk over to Winona, a smile on your lips like you've met the most wonderful person to ever be in your life. She couldn't read if it was real, and she hoped to God it was fake.

"What's with the get-up?" Winona asked, standing up while giving Jenna the look.

"Going on a date with this guy, he asked me." You smiled, yet again, but it was even brighter.

Yeah, she figured. When did she even assume that you liked women anyway?

"Can I borrow your car, mom, please?" You asked of her, your puppy eyes going in action while you mentally crossed your fingers.

Jenna wasn't the one to brag, but she could drive a car! Not that idiot guy who couldn't even take whatever vehicle to fetch her as a nice gesture. Hell, it was a date for godsakes!

Winona sighed, glancing between Jenna and you. "Sure, you can borrow the car," she stated before digging into her pockets and fetching her car keys, plotting it down to your hands, "but make sure to bring it back in one piece."

Jenna bit her lip, suppressing the urge to completely pull herself out of her chair and scream 'I love you so goddamn much, Y/n! Can't you see I'm the one for you and not some guy who couldn't even go the mile to drive you to the damn date!?' But no. Instead, she stayed in her seat, nodded as a goodbye, and forced yet another smile.

"Thanks for the flowers by the way, Jenna! I should really pay you back sometime." You chuckled, before hugging her head as your way of goodbye. "I'll tell you all about it when I get home."

"Don't worry about the flowers. No need to pay me back," Jenna replied, doing her damn best to keep her tone light and her knuckles not so light. As you hugged her, Jenna couldn't help but savor the moment, imagining that it wasn't a goodbye to go off on some date with some random dude but rather a lovely gesture. "I'll be waiting to hear all about it."

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That was atleast three to five hours ago.

Jenna never knew how a 2$ caesar salad bought from a suspicious vendor on the sidewalks could be so depressing but still mock her on how she just lost the love of her life to someone who actually had the guts to confess until she actually experienced it.

It was a slow day on set. Probably because it was already so late at night. There were still some scenes being recorded, but most of it was Winona's.

So along those hours when Jenna wasn't with you or she couldn't text you through the phone, all she could really do was stare from afar and hope that you'd magically have some miraculous change of mind mid-date and maybe you'll soon believe and realize Jenna was the one for you after all.

Of course, life wasn't like a damn movie and that damn date was still going to happen no matter what she does.

Winona sat beside Jenna, offering a sympathetic look at how Jenna was poking around her lettuce. "You know that's her quote-on-quote I don't really give two shits outfit but I still need to look good for a requirement that is people's feelings."

Jenna let go of her fork, damn even it looked sad. "But she looks beautiful."

Winona could almost roll her eyes if not for the young actress wallowing in her own thoughts. "It's because you're head over heels for her, Jenna. She could wear some obnoxious color-clashing clothes and she'd still look like a goddess for you."

Jenna sighed, picking up her fork again and halfheartedly stabbing a folded lettuce leaf. "I mean, don't you?" she asked, glancing at Winona. "You're her mother."

Winona shrugged, "Her clothes, her choice, but I still absolutely would not." She laughed, and her smile brightened when Jenna allowed a smile to crack through her lips.

Jenna could almost face-plant herself into the salad bowl if not for a notification pinging in Winona's phone. A notification that Winona only applied for you.

"...Or you could tell her that she's much better off with you rather than some guy that stood her up." Winona showed the phone to Jenna, your message illuminating on the screen.

y/n

mom can u pick me up? karaoke room 217 stood up on me lol come quick, pls. thx

Jenna would've been lying if she said she wasn't jumping, screaming, throwing up in literal joy.

Well, of course, she was mad that you of all people were stood up, but she was semi-glad that you were.

Jenna's urgency was visible as she scrambled to get out of her seat, grabbing her bag with such hast and making a sudden beeline for the exit.

"Tell her that you can't go! I wanna surprise her," She yelled to Winona, her excitement in her voice echoing through the room. It's almost weird and insane how happy she was about how you were stood up.

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You waited for 2 hours.

It wasn't disappointing. You already knew it was just some sort of dare or a prank that one of his friends pulled, but you showed up anyway. Not like because you wanted to play with his feelings; you couldn't do that if you didn't have any.

In fact, you had feelings for Jenna.

Ever since she showed up on your screen, she was the only actress you could ever think about. She was charming, alluring, the only person who could make the daylight so dark if her smile was out of place.

You didn't know her, personally then, but you loved her. You were willing to start wars with the world, may it be against you or may all odds and fate oppose you, you’d do everything for her even if it kills you to be someone who would take all her hidden suffering and plead for tears with your palms locked and thrown away.

And now that you were working with her on set, you couldn't help but be someone you're not. All thanks to you and your mother on reluctantly giving up on the idea of not bringing you to set. You wanted to confess, you really did. It was just a silly little crush like you'd always have but this one with Jenna seemed real and your life would've ended if your feelings were rejected.

Though, even after all that, Jenna was the one you wanted to be with. The one you hoped would walk through that damn door and hug you until your worries and thoughts all disappeared, only met with her voice and her comforting arms.

That would've been a fleeting memory, wishful thinking. That is until the very girl that made you go insane rushed into the room.

What the fuck.

She was exhausted, you could tell by her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath, you couldn't help but smile at the sight of her; looking like she had gone the extra mile and maybe even drove a car on the way instead of running, just to be there with you. You could almost start laughing and be that snarky person you've always been to her if not for everything else fading into the background until Jenna was the only one left.

Without hesitation, she pulled you into a tight embrace, wrapping her arms around your body as she tightened the hug as if you'd die if she ever let go of your body. The warmth of her touch, the comfort in her soul, and her very being brought something so grand as you hugged her back. You feared that letting go would mean losing her forever, and she thought the same way.

"I love you." She murmured on your shoulders, closing her eyes. You notice how her voice cracked with vulnerability and almost sorrow as you tightened your hold on her.

"I love you," she whispered yet again, as if you didn't hear her the firs time. "I love you, I love you, I just love you." She dug her head under your neck, her breath warm on your skin as you waited for her to finish.

You could feel Jenna's heartbeat against your chest, fast and beating while it synced with your own. "I love you, Y/n. You don’t know how many lifetimes I would kill myself for you to look into my soul, everything beneath, and even the darkest parts of my heart so then you’ll see how I perceive you to be everything I look for. I can't understand how you don't understand how much you mean to me. How much your laughter was something I didn't know would be the cure to whatever terminal illness I had in life, your actions being my motivation, your soul being my guiding light, and your smile being something so bright that not even the sun could beat its glory."

Jenna slowly pulled away from you, her eyes searching yours for a reaction. The room was always so silent, but it never felt like it was the funeral of sound itself.

"I'm sorry—That—That wasn't... I didn't—" she stammered, her body already getting up and pulling away from you.

Gently, you reached out and cupped her face with your hands, your thumbs brushing away the newly formed tears that had welled up in her eyes and dripped from her cheeks. You could feel the warmth of her skin beneath your touch, her freckles, and everything that made Jenna her was right beneath your palm. You want nothing but to cherish it.

You couldn't think of a reply. You could, but it would never beat the confession Jenna had for you. It was more than a mere confession, but something out of a book that would put every writer to shame.

"Is this okay?" Your eyes searched for Jenna's consent in hers as you leaned in ever so slightly, her breath lingering on your skin until Jenna's lips met yours in a hesitant, gentle kiss. The touch of her soft lips against yours sent a shiver down your spine, her hands coming up to cradle your face as she melted into you while your own hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened.

Life felt like something you wasted without her lips touching yours. How you felt everything and how you were everything under her soft touch, her presence. It was if every moment before her had been leading to this one. Every heartbeat, every breath, every time you've experienced something happy, sad, or even something conflicted was building up to the moment your lips finally met hers. You felt whole, alive, reassured, and comforted.

Her touch felt like a warm embrace from something so indestructible, a star so far away that only you could see it shine from afar but yet you could feel every inch of its presence.

Then it stopped. The both of you pulled back.

But your heart never did.

"You know I asked for your mom to be my wingman."

"Please don't destroy this moment we have by mentioning my mom, Jenna. I'm serious."

Jenna chuckled, her eyes twinkling, "give her some credit. I never would've confessed to you without her."

You couldn't help but smile, realizing she was still the Jenna you fell in love with. "I guess, but I don't really want to talk about my mom after I just got stood up and then kissed the girl I love."

Jenna's chuckle turned into a soft giggle, her hand finding it's way to your palm as she intertwined her fingers with yours. "Also, for the record, that guy was an idiot."

You nodded after shared laughter. With everything that's going around between the two of you, you almost miss how Winona arrived just in time. Standing by the door with a smile on her face.

But even with Jenna's hand over yours, she'd still fall head over heels for you.

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

just some fuckass aftermath dialogues:

W: "You finally confessed." J: "Did she tell you?" W: "Well for one she's been awfully cheery and gave me a questioning I love you mom and offered me to go shopping with her."

#jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x femreader #jenna ortega x female reader #jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega

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cupid-styles · 4 months

Text

new year's stranger

in which harry and y/n only see each other on new year's and he tries to convince her it's fate.

word count: 5.5k

content warnings: cheating (not on y/n or harry), drinking, drug use

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

New Year's Eve, 2020

Y/N hates New Year's.

If it were up to her, she'd sleep right through it, but Alice would never let her do that. It's why she's at this party to begin with. The owner of the house is a friend of Alice's who Y/N has never met, and isn't expecting to be introduced to tonight. The second they walked in, it was pure chaos, and it set off blaring alarms of anxiety throughout her entire body. She'd lost Alice somewhere around 10:30, but she was grateful that despite having a less than fun time, time still ticked steadily to midnight.

The sooner 2021 arrives, the sooner she can leave.

Harry, on the other hand, doesn't mind New Year's, but he hates this party.

Gemma forced him out with her and her boyfriend after finding out his planned accompaniment for the evening was a bottle of red wine and his favorite Elton John records. She said she hated to see him having a hard time with the breakup (that made Harry want to throw up on the spot) and demanded that he at least try to have a nice time tonight.

However, she failed to loop him in on the details of this party, which was apparently a proper rager that had him feeling like he was 17 again, but only in the worst ways.

He wasn't snooty by any means, but if one more drunk person comes up to him and asks if he's the Harry Styles, Gemma and her boyfriend can try to find an Uber home.

(He would actually never do that, knowing it would be impossible to locate one that wasn't three times the normal price given the holiday, but he can't help imagining cozying up in his bed, clutching one of his ex-girlfriend's tee-shirts, soaking it with tears, and falling asleep.)

It's why he's taken to sitting outside in this stranger's backyard, enjoying their wooden patio set. He doesn't typically smoke but he's chain smoking cigarettes tonight; he asked to bum one off of some guy inside, and he gave him the entire pack because he's — you guessed it — that lad from One Direction! So now it's sitting prettily next to a half-gone bottle of Cabernet, and Harry really, truly thinks this may be the worst New Year's he's had in a very long time.

He's grateful no one's discovered his little hiding spot yet, but perhaps he's spoken too soon as he takes a draw from the lit cigarette in his right hand. His shoulders tense when he hears the patio door slide open, desperately hoping Gemma found him and wants to go home.

"Oh, fuck, I'm sorry." The voice says, making Harry crane his neck slightly to see its owner. He can't really tell if he recognizes them, but it's clearly a female figure dressed in a black mini skirt, tights, and an oversized vintage sweater. "I didn't know anyone was out here, sorry."

"'s fine," Harry mutters, stubbing his cigarette out in the grass and toeing it out with his slip-on Vans, "It's all yours."

He goes to stand up, reaching over to grab the neck of the bottle of wine, when he accidentally bumps into the small table and knocks it over. He curses loudly as he watches the deep red hue stain the concrete floor, the puddle growing larger with each passing second.

"That's unfortunate." she points out and he scoffs. If he wasn't in such a piss poor mood, he may have contemplated cleaning it up, but he's decided that he doesn't like the owners of the house, especially because of their tiny little patio table.

"I think the hosts of this party are dicks, so I wouldn't worry about wiping that up," she says, almost as if she's reading his mind, "Sorry if you're friends with them."

"I'm not." Harry says curtly, leaning down to at least pick up the shattered pieces of glass.

"That's good. They're letting people do blow and ketamine off their dining room table. I think breakfast tomorrow will be interesting."

He snorts as he gathers broken chunks. He thinks that she's left him alone when he doesn't hear her ramble on anymore, but she returns a moment or two later with a garbage bag. She gets down on her knees and nudges the opening in his direction, wordlessly encouraging him to drop the pieces in it.

"Thanks." he mumbles through a sigh.

"Sure," she nods, "Having a bad night?"

"Yeah. Don't really feel like talking about it, to be honest."

Harry knows better than to discuss personal matters with strangers at parties (he learned that lesson years ago), regardless of how down he's feeling. She shuts up after that and continues helping him clean up the shards, tying off the bag when all that's left is a dark purple mess.

"I'll toss it." he says, stretching his arm out to take the garbage bag. She nods and gives it to him. "Thank you for helping."

He hopes she takes the hint as he ambles through the darkness of this unfamiliar backyard, attempting to locate the garbage bins. Eventually, he finds one (he knew they were shitty people, they don't even have a separate one for recycling!), and breathes a sigh of relief when he turns and sees that she's gone. He was starting to worry that she would ask for a picture or an autograph.

He sits back in his original seat and pulls his phone from his pants pocket, scrolling through drunken New Year's texts from people he barely knows. Really, he's only looking for two names (Gemma looking for him, or his ex-girlfriend magically deciding she needs to be with him going into the new year), but neither appear. He grumbles and reaches over to grab the pack of cigarettes, jumping in surprise when he realizes the girl is standing there with another bottle of wine.

He clutches his chest dramatically, "Were you trying to scare me or something?"

"Oh! No, I'm sorry, you just looked busy so I was waiting," she replies, placing the unopened bottle on the table. "Here. Um, is it okay if I sit out here? We don't have to talk. I know you said you don't want to."

His night can't get much worse, so why not split some wine that suspiciously appeared with a stranger that refuses to leave him alone?

"Sure." he mutters.

As promised, it's silent for awhile. She doesn't say anything but he notices her pick at her tights, then her nails, clearly antsy from the lack of discussion. The steady thumping from the music inside is the only relief.

He doesn't know if it's been five or 10 or maybe even 15 minutes, but finally, he breaks. He holds in a sigh as he turns his head to look at her.

"Are you having a bad night, too?"

She shrugs. "Kind of. I just don't really like New Year's."

He nods in understanding, "It is a bit overhyped."

"I lost my friend awhile ago," she adds, biting her lip. "I feel like I'll end up just going home a little after midnight."

"Yeah, my sister and her boyfriend dragged me here but I haven't seen them in hours."

She chuckles humorlessly. "Maybe I'll just try to get a cab now."

Harry glances at the time on his phone screen. It's 11:04 and he knows it would be stupid to do the thing he's thinking about, but he can't help it — maybe it's the strange connection he's feeling to his fellow sad stranger, or maybe he just really wants to go home and needs a good excuse. The words are leaving his mouth before he even truly contemplates it.

"That's crazy, you'll never be able to get an Uber at this time. If you don't live too far, I can give you a ride."

Y/N is quick to bat him off, easily rejecting his offer. "Thank you, but you don't have to do that. I'm sure you have tons of plans tonight."

A wrinkle forms between Harry's brows. "No, actually. This was it. And if I'm being honest, I'm dying to get out of here, too."

He watches as she contemplates it, gnawing on her bottom lip and wringing her hands in her lap like a child. Finally, he speaks up.

"I'm leaving with or without you, so really, it's your choice."

Her eyes glance over to him and she quickly nods, gathering her purse to her side. "Okay, yeah. I'll take the ride, please."

"Sure," he says with a nod, rising from his seat. "Do you live far from here?"

She gives him her address, surprised to find out that she only lives a few streets over from his own apartment. He sends off a text to Gemma, claiming that he ran into someone and needed to take them home (it wasn't a complete lie, even if he knows he was being pushy about leaving), and they silently walk in the dark, one in front of the other, quiet footsteps sounding against the stone pathway of the backyard. Eventually, they approach his sleek black Range Rover, Harry mumbling out a "this is me" and unlocking the doors so she can get in the passenger's seat.

"Thank you again for this," she says as he cranks the heat up. He had noticed that her teeth were chattering on the short walk back to his car.

"'s fine."

Harry doesn't play music or say anything else on the short drive to her place. Exhaustion is hitting hard and he's ready to go home and curl up in a sad ball. When he pulls up to her apartment, she's already clicking her seatbelt off and pulling her keys out of her bag. He wonders if he was being that standoffish, to the point where she's all but jumping out of his moving car.

"Well, happy New Year." she murmurs with a small smile, glimpsing over at his tight expression. He nods curtly, hands gripping the steering wheel.

"Happy New Year." he returns tersely.

"I hope 2021 is better for you," she says, her tone almost so genuine it makes his heart thump wildly in his chest, but just for a moment. "I'm sorry you had a shitty night."

He swallows harshly, willing away the lump of tears forming in his throat just from a stranger's kindness.

"Same to you."

She pauses, as if she wants to say more, but instead pushes the door open and gets out. With one last smile, she waves goodbye to Harry.

He waits to make sure she gets in safely before driving away.

. . .

New Year's Eve, 2021

"I'm not going out to a karaoke bar on New Year's Eve."

Y/N rolls her eyes at Mike, her boyfriend of six months. She had told him weeks ago that this was the plan for the night — her friends wanted to have a fun time out, and after last year's disaster of an evening, she was more than willing to put some cash in to rent out a room at a karaoke bar in downtown LA. But of course, a mere hour before they were due to all meet up for dinner, Mike was trying to bail.

"You agreed to this forever ago," Y/N replies with a sigh, lowering her eye shadow brush. She swivels in her seat to face him with a slight pout. "It'll be fun, I promise."

"What's so fun about people singing shitty cover songs all night?" he sneers, crossing his arms over his chest childishly. "I think it would be better if I just went to Reese's place tonight. He's having a party, you should go there instead, too."

"I already put money down and told my friends I was doing this with them, Mike."

He scoffs. "But I'm your boyfriend."

"And they're my friends."

"So you're seriously gonna ditch me, then?" he asks snidely, a pang of guilt firing through Y/N's chest.

"I mean, maybe I can meet up with you later? I can try to come to Reese's after dinner or something."

He rolls his eyes, making him look like an angsty teenager.

"Whatever. Don't bother, I'll just see you tomorrow or something."

Mike doesn't even send her off with a kiss or wish her a happy New Year before he's out the door. Y/N sighs, resisting the urge to bury her head in her hands and mess up the makeup she's applied to her face. Mike was great at the beginning — she thought she'd really gotten lucky with him, but around two months ago, he started acting like everything she asked him to do was a chore. From date nights to attending family dinners at her parents' place, he always made her feel dumb for requesting his presence.

She tries to ignore the anxiety brewing in her stomach when she meets her friends for dinner. They all ask where he is, and when she has to say that he would rather go play video games with his friends all night, they're quick to jump on what an awful boyfriend he is. She knows that — she really, truly knows that, and she doesn't know why she hasn't ended things yet.

When they get to the karaoke bar around 10 pm, Y/N's already tired, even if she's attempting to press on and make the most of her night. She giggles as she watches her friends scream the lyrics to songs by Queen and Fleetwood Mac, and she's particularly impressed by Nina's cover of "good 4 u" by Olivia Rodrigo, which she of course dedicates to Y/N.

With a few shots and two mystery cocktails under her belt, Y/N's actually having a good time. She excuses herself 10 minutes before midnight to go to the bathroom, not wanting to miss out on any of the excitement when the clock strikes 12.

Only, when she's walking down the long hallway, her eyes on the floor as she navigates her slightly drunken steps, she bumps into a figure. A hard figure, wearing a fuzzy cardigan.

And when she glances up, it's the last person she expects to see.

"Holy shit!" the curly haired brunette exclaims, pupils wide and breath smelling of tequila. It's clear that he's just as messed up as she is, if not a little bit more. "You're that girl from last year!"

She immediately giggles, the warmth of the alcohol in her system dismissing any embarrassment she may have felt otherwise.

"From that shitty house party, right?" she asks, thinking back to 2020.

"Yes!" he shouts, slamming his palm against his forehead. "You helped me clean up that wine!"

"And you drove me home." she laughs.

"Oh my god, this is crazy," he declares, making Y/N laugh even harder, "Sorry, I'm kinda fucked, but this is still exciting."

"Why? We were both having awful nights last year and I could tell you wanted nothing more than to kick me out of your car."

"What are you talking about? You were the nicest person I met at that party," he replies with a slight wrinkle between his brows, "Plus, you were the best part, since you got me out of it."

Y/N snorts. A few people attempt to brush past them in the hallway and they both move to the side, leaning their shoulders against the wall.

"I'm glad I could be of service," she says with a smirk. "What are you doing here tonight? Are you having a better New Year's?"

"I mean, I'm definitely higher and drunker this year," he cracks and it makes her roll her eyes playfully, "How about you? Feeling good?"

She allows the question to ping pong around in circumference of her brain. She was feeling good, but only because of alcohol, her friends, and the absence of her boyfriend. Taking a beat, she looks up at the green-eyed male before her, her breath catching in her throat when she realizes he's somehow gotten closer, likely because of all the traffic in the hallway. She swallows, her throat suddenly feeling dry.

"I'm feeling good," she finally answers, wringing her hands together in front of her.

"That doesn't really sound like a confident answer." he teases, crossing his arms over his chest. Her eyes flutter down to the tee-shirt he wears underneath the striped cardigan, the word sex scrawled simply across his chest.

"I had a fight with my boyfriend before I came here," she admits, though she doesn't quite know why, "He knew about these plans for weeks and he just bailed to go play video games with his friends. I'm kind of pissed about it."

He hums and she notices that his jaw clenches slightly when he presses his lips into a line. She's not sure if it's from the drugs or something else, but she quickly glances back up at his eyes.

"Sounds like a dick move." he says decidedly. Y/N shrugs.

"He's kind of a dick, to be honest."

That makes him bark out a laugh, shaking his head as his lips form into a half-hearted smile.

"What do you need to turn your night around, then?" he asks, patting his pockets as he looks for something, "I have some more coke on me if you need to get inappropriately high. I'm also not against buying you shots at the bar, but given my inebriated state, I unfortunately can't be your Uber driver tonight."

"Do you always speak like a scholar when you're fucked?" Y/N mocks with a smirk.

"Maybe," he grins, "So what can I get you, New Year's stranger?"

It hits her then that they've never exchanged names. Not officially, at least. Y/N of course knew who he was — his name and face had spent the better part of 2020 being plastered across tabloids, and she recognized him back to his One Direction days — but it felt weird to just assume as much.

Likewise, Harry wasn't above asking Gemma if she was familiar with the girl he'd met a year ago today. He hoped she may have some connection to her, given the fact that her silly little ramblings stuck around in his brain far longer than he would've anticipated. After Gemma asked around, he learned her name, but never did anything with it, instead opting for a year of distracted hookups and flings.

And even without acknowledging the fact that they each know the other's names, they're somehow more comfortable with being a New Year's stranger.

"Can I bum a cigarette off you?" Y/N asks, remembering back to last year when he was chain smoking, somewhat pathetically, on the back porch.

"Haven't smoked for a year," he replies cheekily, "But I can ask a friend for one if you want."

She shakes her head. "I just need some air, really. Would you wanna take a breather with me?"

Harry nods and follows her out, eager to speak with her away from the crowded, loud interior of the bar. He can't help but check her out from behind, lips pressing together as he drinks in her thin slip dress, black tights, and platform heels. She looks cute. Similar to last year, just a tad more mature. It fits her, he thinks.

When they get outside, Y/N's ears are ringing, but her warm skin is enthralled by LA's sad excuse for winter weather. She instantly feels less clammy, leaning back against the brick exterior of the building and allowing it to cool her. Harry follows her lead, his mind spinning slightly as he continues to take her in.

"How've you been?" he finally asks, desperate to break the silence. She peeks an eye open and glances at him in her peripheral.

"Fine. Work's busy. Friends are good. Boyfriend's... there," she answers in short sentences, like she's checking things off. "You?"

"Just about the same, minus the boyfriend. Single as can be, actually."

Y/N hums. "Any shitty exes this year?"

"Not any official ones," he says, his nose wrinkling as he mentally runs through the year's rolodex of flings. "Can I ask why you're still with this guy if he's such a dick?"

She lets out a humorless laugh before shrugging her shoulders, a look of disarray twisting her features.

"Your guess is as good as mine, stranger."

Harry turns to look at her, pressing his side into the cold brick building. "You don't have to torture yourself with him. If you're unhappy, you have every right to stand up for yourself and leave him behind. Life's too short."

"I know," she says, her eyes fluttering shut again, "I know."

"You deserve to be happy."

She smiles, but there's no happiness behind it.

"You don't know me."

"You think it's a total coincidence we ended up meeting again, exactly one year later to the near hour?" Harry asks, halving the distance between them with a single stride, "This feels like fate."

"This feels like we're both fucked up on New Year's Eve."

"Sure. But alcohol and drugs didn't get us here."

Y/N sighs. When she opens her eyes, he's right in front of her, so close she can see the lengthy wisps of his eyelashes. She swallows tightly, unsure of her next move or his intention. If she really cared about Mike, she would leave Harry here. If she didn't feel the mutual attraction to the man in front of her, she would go back to her friends. If she didn't wonder if he was onto something with this fate thing, she would forget this whole thing ever happened.

But she doesn't care about Mike, and she's attracted to Harry, and he's making her believe in fate.

"It's almost midnight, stranger," Harry breathes, and Y/N glances behind him to see people beginning the countdown from 10. "What do you wanna do about it?"

She knows what he's implying.

She's not drunk enough to view this as a mistake, but she's sober enough to want it.

"Tell me what you want."

"Kiss me," she exhales, her hands shaking at her sides, "Kiss me, please."

There's cheering and yelling and whooping from everyone around them. Cars are honking their horns, fireworks are going off in the distance, people are screaming happy new year. And with all the stimulation surrounding them, all she can focus on is Harry's lips on hers, wet and sloppy and still somehow so perfect. She kisses him back eagerly, teeth clashing annoyingly, hands exploring hips and backs and sides as they lick into each other's mouths, heavy and hot with lust.

She doesn't know how long they've been at it, clawing at one another on a public sidewalk in downtown LA. But she knows that eventually, someone stops to breathe and she takes it as an opportunity to step back. Harry's eyes flicker open, confusion and sadness radiating through the jade green, and she gives him a sorrowed smile in response.

"See you around, stranger."

She's gone before he can stop her.

. . .

New Year's Eve, 2022

"You're fucking joking, right?"

Maybe if Harry had glanced up from his phone two seconds earlier, he could've turned around and avoided this happening. But he's stupid, and he was too busy flipping through his mom's annual Christmas post on Instagram when he hears her voice, and he knows he's in for it.

So he's not entirely surprised when the interaction ends as quickly as it began, just with a tequila soda staining his sweater from her angry drink throwing.

If he's being honest, he gets it. After last New Year's Eve, when they so intelligently decided to eat each other's faces in the middle of LA, gossip blogs and tabloids alike blew up. He felt awful — there were pictures of it everywhere and his fans were desperate to find out who she was. It wasn't a shock to him when they found her social media, job, and, worst of all, the fact that she was in a relationship with someone.

Harry wanted to send flowers, bake her a million apology pies, and grovel on his knees to express how gross he felt about the situation. But instead, he figured it was better for him to stay away. He could only assume that continuing to bother her would make the situation worse, especially considering how cruel the internet could be.

Instead, it just seems like a sad, sick joke that they ended up at the same New Year's Eve dinner party.

When he agreed to come, he was completely unaware that his friend Lea was dating Alice, one of Y/N's oldest friends. They just moved in together a month back and decided to throw a small get together to ring in 2023.

He wishes someone would've warned him that she would be here.

A year ago, he was in a different place. He was in deep with doing drugs and drinking to cope with stress after a busy year of nonstop work. He knows it wasn't an excuse for what he did, and while it took both of them to form that situation, his world was far more complicated than hers. Had it been any other person, it would've been a one-off hookup on New Year's Eve.

With a sigh, his heeled boots carry him to Lea and Alice's kitchen, where he's eager to dry off some of the liquid that's sopping through the material of his sweater. Luckily, it's empty, the rest of the party meandering around the dining and living rooms as they wait for dinner to be served. He mentally curses Sarah and Mitch, who were supposed to accompany him tonight, but bailed last minute because their baby was being fussy.

A shit excuse, if you ask him.

He's forced to rejoin the party when Alice announces it's time to eat. Harry's thankful to be friends with such excellent chefs, who have prepared an array of vegetarian, vegan, and meat dishes for every food restriction imaginable. When he sits down at his place setting, he's admiring the salad in front of him when he feels someone towering over him.

"Alice, can I change my seat?"

Of fucking course.

He looks up to see her standing there, pinching her own name plate between her fingers with a less-than-satisfied expression painted on her features. His eyes follow her target, the brunette with a shag haircut holding Lea's hand, who sends a glare back her way.

"No. Just sit down, Y/N."

Silently, she does, though her actions seem far more petulant and childish than her lack of response. She doesn't exchange any words or throw any more drinks at Harry as she serves herself, though she also doesn't offer to pass any of the plates he's clearly reaching for, either. With a sigh, he allows her to avoid him, all the way through the toast when she refuses to clink her glass with his.

The table settles in a baseline chatter, the sounds of multiple conversations filling Harry's ears as he scoops forkfuls of quinoa and asparagus into his mouth.

"Can you stop chewing so loud?" she hisses at him, just loud enough for only him to hear.

"Can you stop being so rude?" Harry fires back lowly, wiping his mouth with the cloth napkin, "I'm sorry for last year and I apologize for anything that came of it, but it's not fair for you to only blame me."

"My job fired me," she sneers and Harry's eyebrows shoot up, "And what did you get? More album sales?"

"No— no, I didn’t get anything from it, but— I’m so sorry, I had no idea—“

She rolls her eyes, suddenly standing from the table and pushing her chair in. Her heels clack against the wood floor as she steps away from the dining room and in the direction of the outdoor balcony. Immediately, Harry follows her lead, feeling Lea and Alice's eyes on him.

Her back is to him, the doors shut, but he can tell she's exhaling smoke from the cigarette wedged between her fingers. Carefully, he twists the doorknob open and gently closes it behind him, his stomach gurgling with nerves.

"I'm very, very sorry that your job fired you. I didn't know. I wish I did more. I thought about you constantly — I wanted to apologize but I didn't, and that's no fault but my own." he pauses to swallow but she doesn't look at him once. "It's not an explanation, but I was really drunk and high. Last year was... messy. And I should've known better, but I didn't."

She hums, as if in contemplation, as she takes another draw from her cigarette.

"You just... you took so much from me without even knowing it. I know it was both of us, but..."

"I know," Harry says, taking a step closer to her. "I can't express to you how awful I feel."

She shrugs. "It's fine, it's in the past. I just wanted… an apology, or closure or something. I didn’t know you wanted to offer that.” she takes a shaky breath. “I got a new job."

He resists the urge to say that's good, because in actuality, it isn't, and he's the reason why it happened to begin with. Instead, he bites his tongue, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers as she turns to face him.

"Are you still not smoking?"

He smiles gently. "Yes. No drugs either, this year. Maybe by the time we run into each other in 2023, I'll be totally sober."

"You don't seem like the type. Feel like every time I see you, you have a glass of wine or tequila in your hand."

He chuckles.

"To be fair, you've only seen me on New Year's Eve."

"Mm," she nods, stubbing her cigarette out with the heel of her boot, "Isn't that weird? All these years of being my New Year's stranger."

The nickname sets fire to his chest. 12 months later and he forgot that's what they'd started calling one another last year.

"It is weird," he nods, agreeing, "Almost seems like fate."

"Oh, we're not going down that road again," she snorts with a roll of her eyes, and it makes his own eyes crinkle in amusement. "If it was fate, we would've run into each other more. I think we just have mutual friends."

"That might be true. We only live 15 minutes away from one another."

She raises her eyebrows, "Really?"

"Have you moved since 2020?"

She shakes her head.

"Then yes. You live on Maple, I'm on Bleeker."

"That's three blocks over," she says, clearly bemused, "How did we seriously never see each other otherwise?"

Harry shrugs. "I mean, I guess I'm out of the city, like, 9 months of the year."

A silence blankets over them as she presses her elbows against the cool banister on the balcony, looking out to the city. Harry glances at the watch on his wrist. It's a few minutes past 10, just a few hours before the year ends.

"I'm sorry for throwing a drink at you."

"It's okay. I deserved it."

Silence again. And then: "Would you ever want not be my stranger?"

Y/N tilts her head and looks at him with confused eyes.

"I mean," he pauses in an attempt to get his words together through his slightly buzzed brain, "Would you wanna know me outside of New Year's? Start fresh, maybe."

A gentle smile worms its way onto her face. It gives him a glimmer of hope.

"Remember what you said about fate?"

He nods.

"Find me any other day of the year," she says softly, stretching her arm out to pat his hand lightly, "If you do, it's fate."

. . .

2023

Harry's having the most chaotic morning ever.

He slept through his alarm (something that rarely ever happens), got to his pilates class late, and completely forgot he has three early afternoon meetings with his record label. From the gym, he rushed over to the grocery store because he recently got home from tour and there's absolutely no food, and he has about 20 more minutes before his stomach starts growling embarrassingly loud.

He's all but pushing old ladies out of the way with his cart, grabbing boxes of granola bars and bins of fresh fruit with no agenda in mind. Glancing down at his watch, he sees his first meeting begins in a half an hour, which means he'll definitely have to take it in the car over Bluetooth, considering traffic makes it near impossible to get places within a reasonable amount of time.

He's huffy, tired, hungry, and sweaty as he waits in line to check out. He's wearing his sunglasses inside like a douchebag, but he can't be bothered to take them off. He's also trying to be better about not distracting himself with his phone when he's in public places, so he decides to people watch and take stock of those around him: An elderly couple who are struggling to use self check-out, a woman who looks like she may be on one of the housewives shows on TV, and a girl that looks suspiciously similar to his New Year's stranger.

Only, when she turns her head, thanking the cashier with her bag of groceries in her hand as she walks out of the store, it hits him like a massive bag of bricks: It is his New Year's stranger.

Suddenly, nothing else in the world matters — not his cart full of snacks, his meetings, his empty stomach. He's jogging, damn near running to catch up to her, brushing past the morning rush of the supermarket as he tries to grab her attention. It isn't until they're out in the parking lot when he finally does it. Perhaps one of the more embarrassing things he's chosen to do in broad daylight, but he doesn't care, because it's her, and he's not letting her get away this time.

"Hey! Stranger!" he shouts, cupping his hands around his mouth to carry his voice against the parking lot.

Almost immediately, she turns around, her eyes wide as she looks to see who the greeting came from.

And maybe it's just wishful thinking, but Harry doesn't think he's ever seen someone grin so beautifully when her eyes finally meet his.

489 notes · View notes

kerrslvr · 4 months

Text

reward // mary earps

summary; in which, after she wins SPOTY, you give mary a reward like no other.

warnings; dom!mary, sub!reader, cocky mary, cunninlingus, fingering, mary loves to manipulate reader into saying i love you, strap-ons, grind pads, reverse cowgirl, spanking, daddy kink (blink and you'll miss it), nipple stimulation, fluff at the end. probably missed some warnings and probably made typos, sorry. also… take this as a christmas present. merry christmas u filthy lesbians x

pairing(s): romantic mary earps x scott!reader, platonic jill scott x sister!reader (r is about 24/25 in this… mary & jill are their current ages at the time of writing - 30 & 36 respectively)

based on this request x

"this is live on the BBC and you're wearing a dress with a slit that deep?"

the frown in jill's voice was clear as you stepped out of the taxi and into the chill of the manchester air, the immediate swarm of camera flashes turned your way.

"can tell you're getting old," you replied as you adjusted the skirt of your dress, "you're starting to sound like mum."

your oldest sister was not amused by her likening to your mother. shelly couldn't make it to the spoty ceremony, and seeing as most of jill's friends were going anyway, she'd invited you. originally, you'd been invited by the company you work for, but being a sports journalist in-training, they'd found someone more qualified than you to do the job; and jill didn't like that.

"just make sure your dress doesn't malfunction and cause headlines tomorrow," she said, waiting patiently for you to catch up as you scurried along beside her, "otherwise mam'll have a breakdown."

you shrugged your shoulders at your sisters worry, you weren't wearing the dress for her, or the cameras. there was only one person you were wearing it for, and you could see her in your peripheral vision, stepping out of her vehicle, dressed to the nines in what can only be described as a revenge dress on you.

she spotted you instantly, your pretty hair and your not-so-innocent eyes and the way they twinkled as they met hers across the carpet. your dresses almost matched, the gaping neckline, the peeks of skin through the lacy mesh, the long black skirt.

you had to fight your jaw so it didn't drop to the floor, and it seemed like everyone else around you also had to fight their urges. people screamed mary's name and you struggled to keep your composure as you and jill eagerly waltzed over to see her.

"i'm so proud of you," jill sqeaked eagerly as she wrapped her arms around mary's shoulders. the look she gave you when your sister wasn't looking almost let your knees give way. "and you look lovely."

"very similar to your sister, come to think of it, jill," mary pointed at your dress and scanned you up and down, "minus the obscenely high split."

you cursed mary with a knowing look before jill turned to compare. if she found out you and mary were frequent flyers in each others beds she would probably wring you out herself, let alone your mother.

"i was just about to compliment you, earps," you shrugged off her devilish eyes and knowing smirk, "but i think i'll just keep my mouth closed."

the two of them did press for a little while, and you watched from the sidelines, admiring mary's demeanor. you couldn't remember how long ago everything started between you and mary, although the euro's final was the first night you spent entangled between her sheets. you didn't even know you were into girls - let alone mary - when you first started sleeping together, and at first, that's all it was, until it wasn't.

she started picking you up from the station, inviting you to games, date night after date night, after date night. one morning things changed and you both realised there were painfully strong feelings of love underlying, but she was thirty and you were twenty five, and she was your sisters best friend, and you were a sports journalist. you both knew how bad it looked.

but, the feelings of love outweighed the feelings of lust, and that was the worst part.

"don't you fancy asking me some questions then, love?"

mary's voice lulled you from your daydream, and she met you in a less crowded corner of the carpet. you could see jill mingling with leah and jen, the three of them chatting politely while they waited for mary to finish up with her interviews - at least, thats what she told them.

"surely you've had enough of questions, mary."

she tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and let her hand rest on your shoulder. the heat from her skin on yours sent burning flashbacks rushing through your brain.

"maybe i have," she leaned down and tilted up your chin with her fingers. even without her heels on she towered over you, but with her heels on she was even taller, nearing six foot, and it made you squirm. "but i've not had a single question from the person i want to speak to."

you couldn't help but let a smile come to your face, and mary admired your fluttering eyelids, "and who might that be, earps?"

mary's thumb traced your lip, and you couldn't help but pucker your lips. "i think you know exactly who it is, princess," she laughed, and for a moment, she thought about kissing you, but she wanted to have her fun tonight, "you can unpucker those lips and ask me your first question."

you sighed and looked at her with soft eyes - of course she was in one of those moods tonight. mary got off on you when she put you in these situations, it drove her absolutely insane. "don't you want to kiss me in public?"

mary rolled her eyes and leaned in, her lips pressing against yours softly as the breeze of manchester air blew across the two of your bodies. a storm was coming, and the chill sent goosebumps across your skin, mary's too, but she was much better at composing herself.

you wanted to deepen the kiss, to outstretch your arms and pull her closer, to guide her hand up into the slit of your dress, but you knew better than to draw attention to your escapades.

mary was first to pull away, and the pink hue of your lipgloss had tainted her light brown. it was a sight to behold.

"better?"

"hm," you shrugged, "what do you plan on doing if you win the award tonight?"

"finally a question i can answer without lying," mary hummed, "if i win tonight i'm going to be taking my girlfriend back to my hotel room, and doing many, many inappropriate things with her."

you shivered at her words, and had to fight the urges running rife inside your bloodstream.

"oh, really?" you questioned, a raised eyebrow. jill noticed you two were standing together in a quiet corner, "and what do you plan on doing if you don't win?"

"oh, well, lets see," mary faked a thought, and you spotted jill walking towards you both with an excited grin, "oh, yes, i'll be taking my girlfriend back to my hotel room and doing many, many appropriate things with her."

you couldn't help but blush, and you opened your mouth to reply but jill stood in your way. "ceremony's gonna start soon, we really should think about going in, Y/N," she gave you a questioning look, silently asking if you were okay, and you nodded. "they want you for a few more pictures, mary, we'll see you in there."

jill was quiet as the two of you walked behind leah and esme, and you were petrified she would bring up the question and ask you what's going on between you and her best friend, and you didn't have an answer.

"she's your type," she said after a while, nudging you with her shoulder, "mary, i mean, not the girl you were telling me about in the car earlier. mary's the best, hilarious, good with her hands -"

"okay, jilly, thanks," you hit her on the shoulder, "i don't need you to play matchmaker, especially not with mary earps, now c'mon, my heels are killing me."

mary couldn't quite believe she'd won the award, and as the night lingered on, her body consistently kept gravitating towards yours. you didn't mind, it seemed everybody in the room kept themselves occupied, if they weren't pulling mary away for five minutes, they were mingling with each other.

jill noticed you and mary spending more time with one another than what she thought acceptable as two people who don't know one another all that well, and she knew she ought to bring it up, but when you began to say your goodbyes approximately ten minutes after mary did at almost midnight, her intuition kicked in.

"leaving already?" she asked, coming up to you before you could show up in front of her, "you and leah are almost always the last two on the dancefloor singing shania twain, or... do you have something better to do?"

you knew that look, the look she was giving you. it was the look she always gave you when she was disappointed you didn't tell her things, like when you failed your driving test and told her you'd passed just so she'd let you drive her new car, or when she'd swung open your bedroom door when you were nineteen to find you in bed with your first boyfriend, much to her disgust.

"if you're galivanting off to sleep with mary, i don't mind," she said, brushing the hair out of your face, "i've watched the way she's looked at you all evening, i noticed the brush of her hand on your thigh and the way you look up at her. i don't mind, y/n, really, i don't."

you knew mary would be on her way to the hotel by now, if not, already there, waiting for your arrival. as much as you wanted to spill your two and a half years worth of secrets to jill, you couldn't bring yourself to do it in this moment.

"then why do you sound so disappointed?"

"i'm not disappointed, i just wish you'd tell me," she ruffled your hair and kissed your cheek, "i'll see you at the buffet for breakfast, and please, for the love of god, stick a do not disturb sign on mary's door."

you slipped into a taxi, and within fifteen minutes you were knocking at mary's hotel room door, and the time it took her to answer the door felt like forever. she swung it open, only so you could see her from the neck up, but you could tell by the angle in which she was standing that she was hiding something.

"took you long enough, love."

"i could say the same for you," you replied, watching mary as her eyes trailed right down to your exposed leg, the slit higher than she remembered, "what're you doing in there?"

she smirked, simply allowing the door to swing open, and when it did your knees almost buckled again. your eyes weren't really sure where to look, it seemed the lace top of her dress was detachable from the long black skirt, and there she stood before you in a lacy bodysuit which made your mind reel.

this was far from the mary you knew, usually with her hair in a messy pony, more often than not, a face with faint green stains of grass, and the familiar smell of either the pitch or the training room, her dominance unrelenting.

although she was in a lacy black bodysuit, the latter statement about her dominance still stayed the same.

"are you just going to stand there gawking, or are you going to come in and let me get my reward?"

you stuttered, struggling to get the words to travel from your brain to your mouth. it was too late for you to answer, though. mary had lost her patience, and she pulled you in and - for lack of a better word - you slammed into the nearest wall.

mary kicked the door and her lips devoured you as if she hadn't kissed you for months, her hands struggling to find a place to rest. your hands settled on resting around her shoulders, your heels giving you just enough of a height boost to be able to stand in that position comfortably, your lips moving together in perfect harmony.

mary's hands found a place to rest on your hips, but she wasted no time in parting the split in your dress and letting her hand explore. a blush crept its way onto your cheeks when she clocked that you weren't wearing underwear.

"oh, sweetheart, really?" she pulled her lips away from yours and gave you that look, the one that accompanied the 'you're not smart, so don't act like it' talk, and you gave her your best innocent eyes, "no underwear, sweetheart, why's that?"

"because you told me not to," your voice was shaking as you spoke, "last week, you told me i couldn't, y-you told me if i did that you wouldn't be very happy."

mary pushed the split in the dress apart and the fresh air touched your cold pussy, sending goosebumps across your skin. it was even worse for you when she knelt down, the heat from her breath juxtaposing the goosebumps and sending your skin into overdrive.

"have i ever told you how pretty of a pussy you have, darling?"

"once or twice," you pushed the hair from her face so it didn't tickle your skin and push the goosebumps further, "but you can tell me again if you - oh."

mary couldn't help herself, her eager tongue needed to taste you. she licked along your slit as you spoke, and reduced your words to a slur of moans. she parted your legs further and scooted closer to your body until you were practically sitting on top of her face, her tongue slipping further and further into your folds.

"i should be the one d-doing this to you, surely," you hummed, hoisting your dress across your hips and allowing her much easier access to your pussy, "you have just won the best award in your career to date."

mary pulled away and you could see her chin glistening with your wetness, causing her makeup to go patchy. her fingers traced the space that her tongue had just been, circling your hole teasingly in only the way she could.

"yes, i have, and you can keep stroking my ego by telling me that again as you take off your dress," she raised an eyebrow, halting the movements of her finger until you did as she asked, "but, your pussy is my reward and i expect to get as much of a reward as possible this evening, do i make myself clear?"

"y-yes," you nodded, allowing your dress to slip straight down your frame until it pooled at your ankles, showing your naked frame to the woman kneeling before you, "i understand."

mary's finger slipped inside of you, albeit ridiculously slow and with nowhere near enough friction to make you cum, but it felt great nonetheless.

"you're such a good little girl for me, aren't you, y/n?" she asked, stretching you out with another finger and curling her fingers in an excruciatingly slow come hither motion, "leaving the afterparty like i asked you to, following me back to my hotel room so i could look at this pretty pussy and hear those innocent little moans all night," she kissed your clit softly and it sent a fluttery feeling scattering through your stomach, "anyone would think you love me, darling."

you opened your mouth to speak, and right as a word began do leave it, mary added a third finger. the stretch was painful, but delicious at the same time and you bunched a hand in her hair, fighting all your urges to cum all over her fingers. she smirked, "cat got your tongue, sweetie?"

"oh, fuck," you hissed, "fuck mary your fingers feel unbelievable."

"that's not what i was looking for you to say, angel, but i'll take it."

she smirked again, this time her lips pursing around your clit and causing a long, breathy moan to tumble from your mouth. the feeling bubbling away in your stomach grew with each flick of her tongue, each curl of her fingers, and it left you a wriggling mess.

you knew what she was waiting for you to say, her body was practically fizzing with the anticipation of hearing you tell her you loved her. it was her new favourite sound of yours to get off to, and she had plenty; but something about your voice was so soft, so subtle.

neither of you ever anticipated it would turn into this, loving each other, you weren't even sure how to love somebody. you both thought that hiding the relationship would be much harder, but it was significantly easier than you realised, less pressure, less worry. and mary didn't ever want you to stop saying it.

"you know you're not allowed to cum until you say it, darling, so you might as well get it over with."

"i love you, mary," every single time you said it, the words slipped out of your mouth easier than any other words ever did, and you hated how much it affected you both. "i love you, now, please - f-fuck - make me cum."

the smirk on mary's lips was unfathomable, and her fingers stretched you out deliciously as she continued to fuck you with them, desperate to stretch you out so she could slide her cock inside you. she stood up, her free hand wrapping itself around your neck instinctively, temporarily halting the bloodflow to your lungs as she squeezed in rhythm to her thrusting fingers.

"you really wanna cum that badly, huh?" she asked, lips scraping your ear with every word, "said you loved me twice in one sentence."

you were unsure whether mary was in a mood nice enough to let you cum now, and while you craved it desperately, you were there for her pleasure this evening, not the other way around.

"god, m-mary, please just let me cum, p-please," you choked, "i-i know you're gonna want my pussy nice 'nd wet, so p-please let me cum."

the noise mary made was akin to a growl, and she sped up the movement of her fingers, moving the angle so her thumb was rubbing your clit frantically. your legs threatened to buckle and you locked your hands around mary's neck, a moan tumbling from your mouth as a trail of her spit lingered on your bottom lip.

"god, not so fuckin' innocent now, are you? can't believe i found myself such a naughty little girl," her teeth nipped at your earlobe and she noticed the bead of sweat trickling down your forehead. "are you going to stand there moaning or are you going to cum for me, little one?"

the use of your favourite petname sent your head spiralling, and with that, your legs shook and your entire core tensed as your orgasm peaked. mary's name fell from your lips and she couldn't help but groan as your wetness flooded her fingers, trickling down her knuckles and the palm of her hand, and the sound of your release was music to her ears.

as mary pulled her fingers out of you, she gave you time to breathe, despite the look of disapproval on your face now that you weren't full. you watched her tongue slide across the skin of her palm and it made you feel dizzy.

"look at those little puppy eyes, my love," she held her fingers out in front of your mouth and let you suck them clean, "how could i ever say no to that face?"

your eyelids fluttered as you tasted yourself on mary's fingers, and when you licked them clean they pulled out of your mouth with a pop. she slipped her arms out of her bodysuit and you watched with eager, desperate eyes as it fell down her hips and to the floor. your eyes almost bulged out of your head at the sight of mary naked, it never felt real.

"what do you want, sweetheart?"

"hmm?"

"i know that look, it's the look you give me when you want to ask a question," she gave you the smirk again, "so, ask me the question."

"i, uh," you straightened yourself up, "i thought as your reward you could let me ride you."

mary leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips, "oh, my darling girl, you can't ever be without my dick inside you, can you?"

you shook your head sheepishly, and mary said nothing as she walked to the bed around the corner of the room. there, on the corner of the bed, lay mary's favourite toys. a strap and its harness, lube and her grind pad, which was a lifesaver when she fucked you. it meant she could feel every sensation, and cum when you did.

"why don't you get my pussy nice 'n wet, darling, hm?" she tucked a curl of hair behind your ear, "and then we'll think about letting you ride my cock, okay?"

nodding, you sunk to your knees and steadied yourself between her legs. she was already preparing the strap harness, fiddling with the grind pad and waiting in anticipation for you to taste her.

she shivered when your tongue made contact with her clit, allowing herself to soak up the feeling by pausing her movements and letting a hand rest on your head.

you did exactly as you were told, getting her pussy nice and wet by smearing your spit all across her clit. she pulled you off, your enjoyment of eating her out short lived, but mary knew if she let you carry on a minute longer she would cave to her instincts and let you eat her.

"if i don't fuck you within the next five minutes, i think i'm going to die," mary hummed, "so please, my love, wait patiently for my cock."

as you sat and waited, you reached down to take off your stiletto's, but mary stopped you.

"don't you dare," she stood up, tightening the loops on her harness and leaning down, "you know how much i love fucking you in heels."

she sat back down on the bed, pulling you down - not completely, just so you were leaning over her frame with your hands on her thighs - and pulling you in for a kiss. it was hot, searing, and your hand instinctively pumped at the lube until you got enough to stroke the strap up and down, soaking it in the liquid so your descent would be easier.

mary groaned as if she could feel the friction through the strap-on, and it made you whimper.

"do you want me to face front or back?" you asked, pulling away for air. the answer was clear when mary's hand came down hard on your arse, the sting brutal but desperately needed. she rubbed the spot she slapped before repeating the action sequence multiple times.

"as much as i love looking at your pretty face, and that insane rack," mary chuckled, "you know i'm an arse girl, love."

you hummed, shifting your body and allowing her to get into position on her back. a whimper left your mouth when you saw her pumping the cock with her hand. she patted her upper thighs, a silent signal for you to lower yourself down, and as you got into a comfortable position, you threw your head over your shoulder and gripped the base of her cock with one hand.

the noises you made as you sunk yourself down on her cock were like music to mary's ears. the grind pad gave her the perfect friction, and as she grunted while you rocked to get comfortable, it felt as if the whole notion of you riding her dick were real.

"c'mon love," she pinched your hip, "don't have all night to waste rockin' back and forth on my cock, you know what i wanna see you doing."

"mhm," you slowly began to pull your hips up from the base of her cock, "yes daddy."

your reply earned you a slap to the bum as you sunk back down, and a sharp moan left your lips. "say it again, love, just once."

"y-yes, daddy."

slap.

"one more time," she stroked the reddening cheek with the palm of her hand, "for daddy's sake."

"yes, daddy."

slap.

mary let out a deep grunt, throwing her head back as you began to bounce up and down to a solidified rhythm, your knees already beginning to ache but this was your reward for mary, and she was not going to take over unless you collapsed from an orgasm; but with her grind pad in use, it was only a matter of time until mary's orgasm crept up on her anyway.

with every bounce of your hips, the pad stroked at mary's clit with a perfect amount of pressure, and a perfect angle, that everytime you pulled up she would whimper, or draw a sigh of relief that her orgasm hadn't hit her yet.

"fuckin' hell, love," she slapped the other cheek this time, "you really do have the most perfect arse, don't you?"

she couldn't help herself, her fingernails digging into the skin of your hips as she began to raise her own off of the bed, fucking up into you and watching your arse ripple with each thrust of her hips. your moans grew louder, unable to control your noise as you gripped onto mary's ankles.

she bent her legs at the knee to help take the weight off of your legs, allowing you to rest on her thighs a bit more. the change in angle of mary's legs changed the deepness of her cock, and it was so deep inside you now it almost made you feel sick.

she reached her hand around your waist so her fingertips brushed your stomach, "can you feel my cock in your stomach, baby? hm?" she waited for you to nod, and her fingers lowered to your clit, "want you to make yourself cum all over my cock, darlin', can you do that for me?"

"not gonna last much longer, mary?" you questioned with the little sarcasm you had left in you. a loud smack echoed the bedroom, and you immediately regretted your question.

"say something stupid like that again and you won't cum at all tonight," she pinched your stinging bum, "understood?"

"yes, mary."

she sat herself up now, so your back was pressed flush against her stomach, and instinctively you wrapped your arms around her neck. the angle of her legs changed again, spread out ever so slightly on the bed so she could hold her balance within her core.

with this angle, mary's fingers were able to pinch at your nipples, and you were so caught up in the feeling of rocking back and forth, and the sound of mary's moaning that you completely forgot you were supposed to be rubbing your clit.

"don't see much going on with your fingers, love," she teased, "please don't make me pull out of this tight little cunt now, and just do as i say, hm?"

you nodded, your index and middle fingers immediately circling the bud of nerves that had you whimpering immediately. mary's lips traced your neck, and without even giving you time to complain, her teeth sunk into the skin and softly nibbled. mary's tongue soothed the burn of her teeth on your neck right as she dragged her fingers under your nipples, making you yearn for an orgasm.

you could tell she was close, her core was beginning to become lose and her legs were beginning to twitch, and your orgasm was on the cusp.

"m-mary-"

"-wait," she breathed, her lips trailing back up to your ear, "wait for me, love, 'nd we'll cum together."

"i-i don't know if i can hold -"

"-you can, and you will," she pinched your nipples, "i'm close, but the longer you talk, the longer this will take."

you nodded, biting down on your lip to fight the urges of begging. a few more rocks of your hips and mary would be toppling over the edge.

"oh, fuck, Y/N," she hissed, "ready to cum all over my cock?"

you nodded aggressively, a feeble 'yes' tumbling from your mouth in a desperate attempt to cum. mary stilled when her orgasm arrived, allowing your hips to do the friction work against her clit, your name falling from her mouth in a desperate groan.

her noises triggered your orgasm, and as much as you tried to ride your way through it, your hips stilled and your fingers on your clit carried you the rest of the way through. you didn't even clock that mary had moved her hands to your hips so she could steady you, and her lips kissed soft lines along your shoulders.

"i'm never going to get over that sound," she said, her hands moving from your hips to around your waist, hugging your body close to her, "i can't believe you're mine."

you managed to wriggle from her grip and lay down against the pillows, with mary following suite. her body cocooned you from the cold air, and her hands resumed their position across your waist.

"i can't believe you're mine," you repeated her words, and turned your neck to the side so you could kiss her nose, "but, i, uh, i think jill knows about us."

the look on mary's face didn't change. in fact, she was relieved she didn't have to hide you anymore. she wanted to show you off, and she was thankful it was almost out in the open now.

"i don't care," she hummed, "maybe it's a good idea for us to get it out in the open now, we've been doing it long enough."

"i like that idea," you spun your whole body around in her embrace at this point, and the smile on your face told her all she needed to know. "i'm so proud of you, maz, nobody deserved to win tonight more than you, i love you."

a heartwarming smile came to mary's face, and you relished in the way you still made her cheeks blush.

"i love you too, darling," she kissed your nose and nuzzled her head into your neck.

"now please, lets get under the covers because i'm freezing my tits off."

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630 notes · View notes

hgfictionwriter · 3 days

Text

Scattered

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: ADHD can be a lot to navigate, but Jessie embraces you, your ADHD and everything that comes with it.

A/N: Based on this request. This came a little too easily lol. Renews my empathy for my wife LOL. Bless her haha. And bless Jessie cause I bet she'd be just as thoughtful.

You lifted your head as motion in your periphery caught your eye. You took out your earbuds when you saw Jessie giving a quick wave from the doorway.

"Don't forget - we have to leave for dinner in an hour," she reminded you patiently. "I'm not saying you have to get ready now, we just need to be out the door at 5:30."

You looked at the clock and then gave her a nod. "Thank you."

She knew you were hyperfocused on something and if you had to abruptly stop you'd be in a foul mood. You'd learned that it helped when you had a wind-down period, so to speak.

You mapped out the time, making a mental note of when to pack up when you thought better of it and set a timer on your phone instead.

Before you knew it, your alarm went off, pulling you out of your trance. You sighed inwardly - you were on a roll and you didn't want to lose momentum. And it's not like you didn't want to go to dinner - you loved Sinc and Janine, but it still took effort for you to compartmentalize and get a move on.

You emerged from the office and looked around the apartment you shared with Jessie. She was sitting on the couch reading, but was dressed for dinner and you noted she had her things neatly laid out by the front door. She gave you a small smile and a wave.

"How'd it go?"

"Good," you said, somewhat distracted as you were trying to determine what you needed to do and in what order. "Thank you." You stopped yourself and returned her smile, now giving her your attention. "How's your book?"

"It's good, baby," she said with a light laugh before gesturing with a nod. "Go on. Get ready."

Jessie knew you well. She recognized what you were trying to do, but also understood that you needed to get sorted and moving if you were going to stay on schedule. She didn't take offense.

"Thanks," you said with a look that was both grateful and a bit shy. "I'll ask you more about it in the car."

Opening your closet, you already knew what you wanted to wear tonight, but a heavy frown fell across your face as you realized the shirt you had in mind was still in the laundry. You swore it was clean.

You sighed as you examined your other options. You eventually narrowed it down to two, your eyes darting back and forth several times. Would that shirt go with the pants you picked? Where were you going again for dinner? What did Jessie wear? Was it cold out? Jessie was in a t-shirt. But she's always warm. It was warm earlier. But it was going to be night, so... You eventually just tossed the one shirt back, forcing yourself to make a decision.

You checked the time and rushed into the bathroom to finish getting ready. You were doing your hair when your mind wandered and you remembered that you told Jessie earlier that you'd update the grocery list. You mulled it over. What were you doing this week? That would affect the list. You went to check your calendar but when you opened your phone you saw an email notification from this store you wanted to get Jessie a gift from.

You were putting in your shipping information when a brief rush of alarm went through you as you heard Jessie getting up. You looked at the time. Oh shit. Wait - what were you supposed to be doing?

A flurry of activity ensued as you worked to finish getting ready. You had to backtrack a couple of times because you'd just left something laying out in your wake. On a second pass through, you had to make a point of stopping to pick it up and put it away.

Before you and Jess moved in together, your apartment could've been described as organized chaos. Clusters of items here and there, but you knew where things were. For the most part. Jessie, however, was very neat and orderly. And you loved her desperately, so you tried to be very mindful of how you tended to leave mess and clutter. It took a little extra effort on your part, but if it helped Jessie feel more at ease and didn't make her feel like she had to pick up after you, it was absolutely worth it.

You rushed up to Jessie who was casually putting on her shoes at the front door. You were slightly out of breath from your zig-zagging through the apartment and she smiled at you affectionately.

"Right on time," she said with a nod of approval, gesturing to her watch and giving you a wink.

You exhaled. "Chaos."

She laughed and held out your jacket for you, prompting you to weave your arms through.

"Thank you," you said and leaned in to give her a quick kiss.

"Anytime," she said as she grabbed her things. She paused as you started patting your pockets and looking around.

"Phone?" She asked knowingly. You looked to her with a frown of concern and nodded. She rolled her eyes with a soft laugh and reached over to the side table. Your phone was on the corner.

"Oh, there it is," you said brightly with a laugh of your own. She reached around and tucked the phone into your back pocket, giving you a smirk and kissed your cheek as she pulled back.

"Oh, one last thing," you said, holding up your index finger. "I need to write it down before I forget." You quickly grabbed the notebook and fancy pen Jessie bought you previously (stationery was a past fixation of yours) and jotted down something on your to-do list. You clicked the pen and put the notebook aside, turning to her.

"Ready to go?" She asked, a smile still lingering.

You gave her a cheesy 'OK' gesture with your hand and winked. "All set."

"And you call me a dork," she joked.

"You love me."

"I certainly do."

There were many ways you knew Jessie loved you, but the fact that Jessie - who herself was very put together - navigated and embraced your quirks with patience and affection, told you she loved and understood you. Sure, you frustrated her now and then, but chances are those were times you were even more frustrated with yourself. She always talked things out with you or tried her best to make things easier. You adored and appreciated her for it.

She was one of the very few people you let your walls down around. The flurry she'd just witnessed is something most people would never see. At work - and previously in school - your reviews always said you were diligent, organized, and composed. And you were - but it came at a cost. By the time you got home every day, you used up all of your mental faculties to stay on top of things at work or with acquaintances. Home was your reprieve; you could recharge, relax and just be yourself.

As Jessie drove you both downtown, you began flipping through songs. Short, fleeting bursts of music filled the car before cutting to the next piece. While your attention was fixed on the console screen, you felt Jessie's eyes on you. "Which song are you looking for?"

"I'll know it when I hear it," you answered, eyes still transfixed on the changing song titles.

Jessie sighed wearily, but you spied the burgeoning smirk on her lips when you glanced over.

At dinner, your knee bounced incessantly up and down as you listened to Sinc and Janine speak. You hardly realized what you were doing until Jessie reached out a hand and gently placed it on your leg. You held her hand and played with her ring instead.

At one point, Sinc was sharing a story and it sparked a thought far off in your mind. You intermittently sat forward and back, waiting to speak - trying very conscientiously to not cut her off by interjecting. When you got your opening, you literally sat on the edge of your seat and began talking, waving your hands animatedly as you did.

You ended up on a couple of tangents, pausing momentarily with a frown before speaking. "Where was I going with this? Right. You mentioned Vancouver, which made me think of real estate, which led me to appliances. So Jessie and I..."

Jessie just chuckled and idly rubbed small circles on your lower back.

At some point, Jessie herself told an uncharacteristically convoluted story. Janine and Sinc were frowning at her in confusion, but you followed her train of thought easily. You reiterated it for her.

"I'm with you.” You gave her a charming smile. She turned to her teammates with a small, satisfied grin.

"She always gets me."

After dinner, the four of you went to meet up with other teammates at a bar. You hung out for a couple of hours, but between the socialization and a long week of meetings and masking, you felt your social battery drain. You started disassociating as people talked and you were having trouble focusing.

Jessie came by, sitting next to you and leaning in to be heard over the din of the crowd.

"You about ready to leave? I'm just about at my limit," she said. You gave her a grateful look.

"Are you sure? We don’t have to leave on account of me,” you tried to assure her. She grasped your hand, lacing your fingers together.

“Babe. I’m ready to go, too. Another 10 minutes? Then say bye to everyone?” She asked.

You leaned your head on her shoulder. “Thank you. I’m sorry I can’t handle more.” You felt her turn her head towards you.

“Baby. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

You lifted your head up to look at her. You’d had this conversation before but you still got in your head about it all and it was hard to stop.

“I just want to be the best partner for you. But sometimes I just get overwhelmed. And then I can’t function or interact the way I want to. And I probably talked too much at dinner. And about god knows what. I hope I didn’t embarrass you-”

Jessie held up her hands, gently coaxing you to stop.

“Baby. Please.” She smiled affectionately at you. “You’re doing it again,” she said with a soft laugh. “You were great tonight. You always are. I could never be embarrassed by you. I’m always so proud to have you with me.”

She tucked your hair behind your ear and went on. “We’re both at our limit. So, let’s finish up here. Can we cuddle when we get home?" She asked.

"That sounds amazing.”

A/N: Okay, y'all. This next part has nothing to do with Jflem, I just have to share this personal anecdote that just happened. The timing is too perfect considering I was writing this ADHD fic.

*Wife calls me while I'm driving and it sounds like she's crying*

"Are you okay???"

"Are you okay?"

"Huh?" My concern immediately shifts to confusion.

"Do you have everything you need in order to be successful today?" She asks in a very measured way.

Realization hits me immediately. I turn to the passenger seat and instead of seeing my work bag, I only see a pair of shoes. Shoes that I made great mental note of that morning to bring with me to the office. But no sign of my work bag that I packed that morning, alongside the idle musing of, "Wow, it would be so bad if I forgot my laptop."

By now, my wife is cackling. She wasn't crying at all when she called, she was trying her hardest not to laugh.

I'm 25 minutes into a 30 minute drive.

"Can you make it work without your bag somehow?" My wife asks amongst her ongoing laughter.

"It has my laptop. My pass. My wallet. Everything. Guess I'm coming back home!"

We're killing ourselves laughing at this point.

"Okay, well, I'll see you soon. Don't get pulled over!"

ADHD struggles are real, folks lol.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader #woso #jflem #woso imagine #canwnt x reader #adhd brain

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phyrestartr · 7 months

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The Intern | Miguel O'hara x M!Reader

#NSFW, Age Gap (mid 20s and mid 30s), reader's a homewrecker, Miguel's a cheater, mentions of toxic marriage, male!reader, bussy loading, porn with feelings, Miguel's a bit of a dickhead, top Miguel (for now), bottom reader (for now)

Note: I can't write anything without making it into a series lol I'm writing another part right now leave me alone!!!

-- The Intern --

[ How it Started: 1/2 ] [2/2]

Miguel didn't take interns. He hated them, actually; the way they'd needle him with too many annoying questions, the times they tried flexing their unimpressive knowledge of genetics, the way they'd fail to flirt and catch his eye–all of it ticked him off, made him snap and snuff out their bright, curious flames. He didn't mean to. He didn't want to make future scientists lose steam. But he had a limit, and these day, it was hit way too fucking often.

That didn't change when the tours came through. Actually, between his wife pushing his buttons and the young, bright-eyed scientists eyeing him over, everything just pissed him off more, shortened the limit exponentially.

And he saw you there, listening to someone with a better temper talk. You didn't look all too impressed. You were maybe a little bored, actually. Your eyes swept across the room in wide arcs, looking for something interesting to land on. That was a feeling Miguel could relate to all too well.

But your eyes eventually landed on him, somehow. You pursed your lips slowly, like it'd make too much noise otherwise, while your cheeks lifted in amusement. You glanced back to the speaker and back to Miguel, eyebrows gesturing too perfectly: get a load of this guy, eh?

Miguel's expressionless mask slipped for a moment, and he twitched a smirk. He shook his head and looked back to his work.

He did, however, glance at you on your way out. You didn't look back at him.

–

He and Dana agreed to separate. It'd be a momentary thing, a way to work out the kinks in their marriage without more random accusations and hurtful words being thrown at each other on the daily. Miguel didn't want that. He didn't want Gabi to be subject to it, most of all.

The separation calmed things down quite a bit, down to the point where Miguel wondered why they were arguing so much in the first place; until Dana did a very Dana thing and decided, for some reason, she couldn't take care of Gabi by herself while they were separated. Probably a ploy to get them back together under the same roof. Probably a scheme to manipulate the situation.

But Miguel could play hardball, too.

He'd pick Gabi up every day after school, and take her to the lab, but sequestered off in the cafeteria where a security guard was always present. She'd get to snack, she'd do her homework, and Miguel could work knowing she was safe. Not ideal, and maybe a little lonely for her, but easy.

Checking up on her was another good excuse to walk away from his work, too. And one of the times he passed by, in desperate need of a cup of coffee and boost from his little girl's warm smile, he saw someone sitting with her.

He watched for a moment as he stirred his coffee. Then, he realized it was you, that random intern from the tour a few months back. You were sat across from her, munching on whatever your late lunch was, and nodding emphatically to whatever his little girl was going on about. Her arms gestured wide and her giggle resonated brightly in the room, drawing some annoyed glances and cooing comments, but you didn't miss a beat, matching her laughter and big gestures. It was nice.

Miguel's shoulders relaxed a little for once.

He saw you there more days than not. And the days you weren't there, he often spied Gabi looking around, no doubt wondering where you were. It hurt his heart a bit to see her pout, truth be told, and he started to realize he should probably get to know you if you were inadvertently babysitting his kid.

So, the next time he found you there, he walked over.

You were beside her this time, both hunched over her usual tablet full of homework. You were the one gesturing wildly this time, talking too much with your hands as you explained fractions and common denominations and the sort in a way that truly only kids could tolerate and understand. Miguel had to put an end to it if he wanted to talk with you.

"So, for this one, the little bitch on the bottom is–"

"Sorry, 'little bitch'?" Miguel interjected, smirking when you jumped and Gabi gasped in delight. "Don't think that's proper terminology. Just a hunch."

"Daddy!" Gabi called, happily turning in her seat to hug her father. Miguel's mean smile softened into something kinder and gentler.

"Hey, mija. Doing your homework, huh?" He asked as he brushed back his girl's hair. "He's not giving you all the answers, is he?"

You balked before interrupting yourself. "Woah, hey, no, no, no, I'm makin' her do the stuff 'n the things, don’t worry 'bout it." Woah. Okay. That was a heavy Nueva York accent. Not what Miguel expected.

"Yeah! I'm doing all the work! Mr.(Name)'s just helping when I get stuck 'n stuff!" Gabi's brows knitted together in concern. "Don't get mad at him!"

"Yeah, don't get mad at me, Doc–she’s a smart kid, she don’t even need me to do this stuff for her, y’know?”

“Well, I already knew that.” Miguel smirked as you huffed. He sat down on the other side of Gabriella and peered across her tablet at you. “You’re an intern, right? You were at the–”

“The tour, yeah.” You nodded a bit and propped your elbow up on the table before resting your cheek against your palm to watch Gabi solve her equations. “Saw you, too. You looked pretty pissed.”

“Intern day isn’t my favourite day,” Miguel offered with an unbothered shrug.

“Yeah, I figured. You looked like you wanted to light ‘em on fire."

"I could've, but then I'd be out a free part-time babysitter."

You laughed lightly, and Miguel caught the charming dip of dimples light up your face. "Oh, so that's how it is, huh? Guess I ain't mad at that. Gabi's a good kid, reminds me of my niece."

Miguel raised his brows a bit. A niece. "Huh. Guess that explains a lot."

"Dunno what you mean by that, but I'm gonna hope it's a good thing."

Miguel smiled a bit. "It's a good thing."

You smiled, too, though a bit more smug and proud. "Yeah? Good." You glanced up at the clock on the wall and sighed, the cute tilt to your lips suddenly vanishing.

Gabi caught on and sent a powerful pout your way. "Already?"

"Yeah, sorry, chica. Gotta get back to work." You stood up and offered your hand to Miguel. "Didn't introduce myself. I'm (Name)."

Hm. Miguel liked how that sounded.

"Miguel. Miguel O'hara." But you probably already knew that, though you had the decency not to point it out.

"Nice to meetcha, Doc."

You shook his hand and ruffled up Gabi's hair before seeing yourself out, a sudden haste in your scrambling steps as you checked the time again. Hah. You must've been late for something.

"He's nice," Gabi said. Miguel's eyes fell back to her.

"You think so?" He's not bad-looking, either. "You're okay with him? You feel safe?"

"Ah-huh, ah-huh. He's not mean." Her big brown eyes sparkled up at Miguel, then. "I like 'im! Are you gonna be friends with him?"

Miguel glanced back your way, surprised to see you standing by the elevators and glancing back at him. You looked away when you got caught, but turned back again with a little wave, like you’d realized turning away looked awkward and suspicious and had to rectify it.

A light smirk tugged at Miguel’s lips. “Yeah, maybe.”

–

It started with chatting at lunch. Then, it turned into light touches on the shoulder and your thieving hands plucking whatever sort of drink or snack Miguel held in tired hands. And then, well, it just got worse.

Miguel growled into your ear as he held you pinned against the wall, his hips slamming up against yours, driving himself deep into your core. To your credit, you held your voice well, only letting the slightest peeps and squeaks out when the older man happened to hit your soft spot in his wild momentum. It’s not that it would’ve mattered, though; the Halloween party’s music blared too loudly in the cafeteria for anyone to hear you getting fucked braindead in Miguel’s office.

“Mmmmnnn–Doc, wait, wait, ow, ow, ow–” Your thighs constricted around his waist in a panic as you hissed and dug your blunt nails into his massive shoulders.

Miguel paused his cruel tempo and finally took a second to breathe. “I–what? You okay?” He asked, brushing some of your messy hair from your face. The corner of his mouth quirked with amusement as he was reminded of the dried fake blood trailing down your mouth, and the glue-on fangs you had set to your canines. You looked quite cute as a fucked-out vampire intern, he had to admit.

You nodded weakly as you panted. “Y-Yeah, ‘m good, you’re good.” You tilted your head back and bonked it on the wall behind you, no doubt influenced by the alcohol in your veins. “This wall sucks. Hurts my back.”

Ah. Miguel probably shouldn’t care. This was just a fling, some stress-relief from his frustrating marriage.

But he was too weak, apparently. “Tch. Picky,” Miguel scolded into your ear before pulling you off the wall.

“Picky?” You repeated, clinging to him desperately.

“Incredibly picky.” He walked a few steps, carrying you with his cock still buried deep inside of you, and rested you on his pristine desk instead. “Better?”

You sighed and pulled your shirt down more while you both got situated. “Yuh-huh.” You looked at him with that infuriating, lazy smile and wriggled your hips against him. “Continue.”

Miguel’s eye twitched. He couldn’t help but feel like he was accidentally subservient to you for that split second. He was supposed to be in control, not you.

“Smug brat,” Miguel scoffed before hoisting your legs over his shoulders and pistoning into you cruelly.

His core ached with want as you arched beautifully off his desk, and through the buzz of booze, he admired you; your own heavy cock wept against your stomach as your diaphragm stuttered with each needy dive into your messy heat. Your face flushed a captivating crimson while your eyes fluttered and shone with unspent tears clinging to your lash line. Then, your stupid costume teeth bit into your lower lip as your voice started to break free from its restraints and pushed by your bobbing Adam’s apple, letting new whimpers and clipped moans fill his office.

“Doc,” you whined, screwing your eyes closed and fisting your hand around your length. “Doc–”

Oh. Oh no. You were cute. Really cute in the way you started letting out bubbling praise and babbled wants, in the way your free hand clawed at his arm to just touch him and hold him while your high threatened to push you off the edge and into that endless spiral. Miguel hadn’t felt this wanted in a long, long time. He hadn’t been showered in praise, told how good he was, given someone’s full attention for even longer.

He couldn’t remember the first time he came first, either.

Because he did, with his teeth clenching, his thrusts breaking down into something erratic and out of tempo, he spilled inside of you. Electricity pulsed through every synapse of his nerves, bringing a wash of cool, prickling energy to his palms and curling fingers as he gripped on you harder, tighter, jamming himself inside of you with a reckless abandon.

“D-Did you–?” You asked. Miguel caught your gaze, and another gush emptied out of him–your eyes, wide and doe-like in surprised amazement, were too captivating, too endearing. And when you realized that, yes, you’d made him cum first, you were quick to reach the same peak.

Miguel was the one to moan this time. Your body clenched down around him in desperation to hold him still while your own white-hot bliss ripped through you. Pearly strands of white roped across your trembling hand and your stomach, one after the other, until there was nothing left to give. But with a sharp slap to your ass, Miguel found there was just a little more you could both give.

“Good boy,” Miguel mumbled, voice thick and full where it trilled. He gave you another good spank. “Good boy.”

Miguel slowed his hips gradually, slowly catching his breath in tandem with your wild panting as the afterglow stayed where the too-hot sear faded. His nerves relaxed with his body. His mind soon followed suit, too, which was a problem and a relief; a problem because he didn’t feel a shred of guilt, but relief in the realization of how simple this exchange was. Just sex. With someone he could tolerate.

“Shit,” you breathed. You glanced down at the mess you’d become, and grimaced. “C-Can a good boy get a, uh, a tissue or, like, five?”

Miguel rolled his eyes. He popped open one of the drawers to his desk and pulled out a tissue box and set it beside you before, like the bastard he was, he pulled out of you without warning and watched your hole clench around nothing before glossy whiteness oozed out of you. He ignored your sharp complaints in favour of enjoying the show and meanly stuffing his cum back into you before, for a third time, giving you a slap on the rear like you were a good ol’ used truck.

Miguel snatched the first tissue to clean himself up and tossed it away, tucking himself back into his pants and straightening his clothes out like nothing happened, before turning and walking away.

“Hey, wh–seriously?!” You cried (or whined, or complained) at his back.

Miguel smirked to himself before calling over his shoulder, “Make sure you clean my desk up, too. I’ll get you kicked out of the program if it’s not in perfect condition tomorrow morning.”

But he almost crumbled under your sweet, cooing pleas for him to come back, to stay a little longer, but thankfully, a whirlwind of petty insults were thrown at his back when he reached the door. And he found the strength to keep going, to subject you to his little game.

A cruel game of torturing his favourite intern.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #atsv imagine #atsv reader insert #male reader insert #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x male reader #miguel x male reader #male!reader #atsv male!reader insert #atsv x reader #atsv x you #miguel x you #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #phyrestartr #smut

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hollytoshaw · 1 month

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noisy neighbour part one | harry lewis

summary: in which y/n owns a coffee shop and harry is her noisy neighbour

word count : 4.3k

a/n: this is part one of my noisy neighbour series!!! this is the first full length fic (non insta au) that i've written on here so hopefully it's not half bad and you all enjoy it. any feedback much appreciated xx

requests: open for insta au's and short storys xxx

rest of my work hereeee : masterlist

✩ ✩ ✩

Y/N was having the worst week imaginable.

For just over a year, she had poured her heart and soul into her coffee shop, 'Sweetheart's Sip' (a cheesy name, she knows), that was located in the heart of Shoreditch, a few roads away from Boxpark. It had always been a dream of hers to open her own little cafe, and a few years after leaving university, she did just that. It was one of her biggest goals to spread the joy of enjoying a tasty slice of lemon cake or hearty brewed cup of breakfast tea to everyone in the area, and after searching for what felt like years, Y/N found a vacancy for a small shop in London that luckily had a flat free above it. With a few trips to Ikea and endless nights of painting and decorating, Y/N was finally able to call 'Sweetheart's Sip' her home.

Living above her shop was so convenient for her, as she opened at 7:30 most days, and when she was left closing late after a busy day of making flat whites, it was nice for her to just trod upstairs and into her peaceful solitude, not having to worry about catching a tube or bus halfway across the city.

The shop just next to her cafe had a flat above it that had been vacant for ages, long before Y/N had even opened her little place. However, recent weeks saw the arrival of many construction crews and noise, some with cameras, which she found quite odd but intriguing, signalling a new tenant for the adjacent flat was on their way.

And this is why Y/N was having a bad week.

Don't get her wrong; she was excited to meet her new neighbour. She had even made bets in her head that it would be some trendy hipster (it was Shoreditch after all) or hopefully a quiet office-goer who wouldn't make too much noise. But Y/N had lost her own bet; she was completely off with her guesses.

Instead, as the days passed and her neighbour moved in, all she could hear was loud house music and a male voice shouting for a good 6 hours out of the day—this was no trendy hipster or quiet office-goer.

The noise was so bad that the whole cute atmosphere of 'Sweetheart's Sip' felt completely disrupted, the loud music drowning out the conversations of her customers sipping away at their coffees.

So, a week passed before Y/N let the noise get the best of her. She'd taken numerous trips to Boots for paracetamol to try and numb her headache, but it wasn't enough; she needed to confront the noisy neighbour head-on. But Y/N hated confrontation; the thought of having to single out someone and tell them that they needed to essentially 'Shut up' was making her headaches even worse, especially when this person was someone she'd never met and now a person that could be living next to her for years to come.

She knew she had to do it, though. As much as it pained her to do so, the noise was so bad. Disrupting her in her own flat was one thing, but the fact that customers were reluctant to enter in fear that they'd hear thumping music that was enough to shake the teapots hung up on the wall was Y/N's breaking point.

She flipped the sign on the front door of the cafe from 'open' to 'close' as no one was in the cafe, a rarity for Y/N but no surprise with the past week's events. Taking three deep breaths, she rehearsed a little speech in her head, unsure of who would be waiting on the other side of the door. ''You can do this, Y/N,'' she thought in her head. Rehearsing a little speech was something Y/N always did whenever she had to talk to new people. Or if she knew she was going to a new restaurant, she'd have to rehearse her food order in her head about a hundred times before telling the waiter. It made her feel less anxious, and anxious was exactly how she felt right now.

Ringing the buzzer of the blue door, she heard a man's voice shout, ''One-second boys, think my Deliveroo driver's here.''

The sudden thought of turning back and going back next door was so tempting at that moment, but she knew if she turned around, there'd be no resolution to the issues, and one terrible week would soon turn into a terrible month.

A waft of aftershave hit her in the face as the door opened, and she was met face-to-face with the noisy culprit she'd been so apprehensive to introduce herself to. A rugged man, blonde-haired with scruffy facial hair and blue eyes, similar in age to her, stood in front of her. Expecting a food delivery driver, his eyes narrowed at the sight of her. She stood awkwardly outside his front door with her green apron on that she'd forgotten to take off before closing up.

She could still hear the heavy bass of house music pounding from upstairs, this time much louder.

Clearing his throat, the man spoke. ''Can I help you?'' His voice was deep and quite posh, but still nice, she thought.

''S-sorry. I mean yes,'' she paused, jumbling up her words, the rehearsed speech gone out the window. ''-I'm from next door, the cafe?''

''Oh right.'' he laughed, leaning against the door frame. ''Yeah, Sweetheart's shit or something like that?'' What a rubbish attempt at a joke, or maybe just plain rudeness, she thought.

''Sweetheart's sip, not shit,'' she stated, to which he smiled back.

''Oh right, well... What can I do for you?'' he asked, looking down at his phone to see if his Deliveroo app had updated an estimated time of arrival for his chicken burger, not half interested in what she had to say.

''Well, as I said, I'm from next door, and I've had a few complaints from customers about loud music and shouting coming from your flat, and I was just wondering if there was any chance you'd keep it down a bit?'' she asked. '’I hate asking, but it's sort of taking a toll on my shop.''

''What? The sweetheart's got nowhere to shit anymore?'' he tried, but was met with a stern look from the small girl standing on his doorstep. ''Right, not funny. Sorry, I'll try to keep the noise down.''

''Thank you.'' she smiled.

''Anything else?'' he said, eyebrows raised.

''No, that's all; I've got to get back,'' Y/N replied, pointing towards her cafe.

Turning on her heels, a sigh of relief left her lips as she retreated back to the shop. That wasn't too hard, she realised. The problem of loud music and shouting was finally resolved. She could get back to her sweet little cafe, and her regulars would finally have their quiet place back to chinwag again.

But as she was nearing the door, she heard the man clear his throat, shouting over the noise of traffic that passed them both. '''Before you go, any chance you know the person that lives above your cafe? You know the one that's next door to me upstairs?''

She turned back to face him, seeing his head sticking out the door, slippers clad on his feet so he would not step barefoot on the dirty London pavements.

''I do, yeah,'' she replied. She didn't necessarily want to let the man know that it was, in fact, her that lived next door to him. She couldn't be bothered to make small talk, as she needed to get back to work. And if her initial introduction was anything to go off of, she didn't think this man would be someone who'd want to make small talk with her anyway.

''Any chance if you see them, you'd tell them to keep their own music down? Kept me up the whole of Saturday and Sunday night listening to ABBA.'' he said, pinching in between his eyes as if to emphasise that he had a headache all weekend from it.

''Really?'' she said.

''Yes. Honestly, if you think my music is bad, you should have heard the screechy singing I had to put up with all weekend. Like nails on a chalkboard,'' he laughed.

Y/N was embarrassed. Not only had it taken all her courage, paired with a few rehearsal speeches, to come and confront her noisy neighbour, she had now been told that her music and singing were in fact much worse and the reason for his headaches. She wanted to hide away in her flat; she was mortified.

Turning back towards her door in attempts to get as far away as possible from the reason for her embarrassment, she muffled a quick ''I'll let them know.'' before retreating quickly into the front door of her cafe.

✩ ✩ ✩

A few days had passed since her awkward encounter, and luckily for Y/N, she hadn't seen the sight of her noisy neighbour since then.

She descended the stairs from her flat and unlocked the front door of her cafe, bracing herself for what she knew would be a busy day. Fridays were always Y/N's busiest, whether that was people popping in during their work break, tourists stopping by to try something 'authentically British' or just her regulars back to try the 'cake of the month', Fridays just always seemed to draw in more people than any other day.

The brief encounter she had with her neighbour had lingered in her mind the whole week. While the music and shouting had quietened down, every so often, Y/N would hear the start of a house tune or a loud shout that only made her wince and think that maybe her embarrassing confrontation was all for nothing.

Today, however, silence greeted Y/N as she walked into the cafe, ready to start the coffee machine and display her various sweet treats on the counter. She had never felt more grateful.

Throughout the day, customers came and went, their conversations having a soothing melody compared to the previous week's discord. Y/N felt like she could finally relax and enjoy the solace of their company, grateful for the return of the peaceful cafe that she had worked so hard to create.

As evening came around, Y/N was getting ready to close up her shop and retreat upstairs to her apartment, eager to unwind. She loved her Friday routine—she'd go upstairs, stick on a pair of cosy Primark pyjamas, light a scented candle, indulge in a simple dinner (usually the Gigi Hadid Vodka Pasta off Tiktok), and curl up on her sofa, flicking through the television and ultimately landing on an episode of Real Housewives.

Her back was turned as she began to clean the coffee machine. Looking at the clock, she could see it was 5 minutes to 5 p.m., and at this point, she doubted anyone would come in at this time, so she kept herself busy, cleaning away so she could rush upstairs.

4 minutes to close, and she heard the door chime. Her tranquilly was short-lived. Before turning around, she heard a man's voice: ''You're not closed yet, are you?''—that unmistakable man's voice that had been ringing in her ears and around her mind since the whole door confrontation moment. Y/N's heart dropped. Had he finally realised she was the'screechy 'neighbour playing ABBA at last?

''Oh hi.'' she smiled, throwing the cloth she was using to clean the coffee machine under the counter. ''What can I do for you?''

''Hello'' he paused. ''I'm in the mood for a sweet treat after a long day. You got anything like that?''

''Hmm,'' she hummed, her eyes scanning the very little treats she had left after her own busy day. ''I've got two slices of lemon cake or some chocolate cupcakes if you fancy?'' God, she hated this. Trying to act polite and unbothered, when in reality all she could think about was the fact that he'd probably heard her every move for the past two weeks.

''Oooh.'' He looked carefully at the baked goods, noting that there were many options. ''You know what? I'll have one of each. It's been a long day today.''

Y/N knew what he was doing. Nearly every customer did it. They'd drop subtly into conversation about how their day was going badly or what sort of plans they had later, in hopes that Y/N would entertain them for a brief second. She didn't mind usually; it was nice to hear about a stranger's life for a brief second, something to take her mind off the fact she was actually working.

But right now, she hated the fact that she probably had to entertain his huffs about having a long day. She'd look rude if she didn't—being a business owner and all—even if he had already heard her belt out the lyrics to 'Dancing Queen' not so long ago.

''Coming right up,'' she said, grabbing two boxes with branded stickers that said 'Sweetheart's Sip' on them—she'd gotten them off Etsy. ''Long day, you said? How so?''

He had taken off his backpack, leaning onto the counter. Oh, he was getting comfortable, she thought. Great.

''Just a long day of shoots. Feel like I've been around the whole of London ten times over.'' he sighed.

''Shoots?'' She looked up at him as she cut a slice of lemon cake.

''Yeah, like video shoots.'' He paused, his cheeks flushing a bit red. ''Like Youtube. I do Youtube.''

Y/N had never met a YouTuber. Sure, she'd seen a few videos over the years, her comfort watch being a classic Zoella vlog, but that was the extent of it. She much rather indulge in reality TV—'a true brain rotter', her mum would always say.

''Oh wow. That's very cool,'' she said genuinely, placing two boxes in front of the man.

He smiled and said, "That's nice of you to say. I usually get the classic 'Does that even pay well?' sort of response. ''

''Well, does it?'' she let out a small laugh, ''Only joking.''

Y/N felt proud of herself at that moment. The small talk wasn't as awful as she thought it'd be. The idea of her singing and him having an agonising headache all weekend had gone out of her head.

''Pays well enough for me to treat myself to a slice of lemon cake and a chocolate cupcake, if that's what you're asking.'' he laughed back. ''How much do I owe you?''

Usually, Y/N would have lapped up any chance to make some more cash, but considering she was serving the same neighbour she had been supposedly keeping up with all weekend with her own renditions of 'The Winner Takes It All', she thought she'd be nice.

''It's on the house.''

''You sure?'' he said, holding the two boxes in one hand and his backpack in the other.

''Of course.'' she smiled. ''Long day and all.''

''Well, thank you, then,'' he smiled. ''I'll see you around then; have a nice weekend.”

''You too,bye,'' she watched as he walked towards the door. She turned her back, picking up the cloth she had once thrown in haste, and began to clean again.

''Oh, actually,'' The voice began, and she realised he hadn't left yet. ''Did you manage to talk to my neighbour yet? Just the racket hasn't stopped since.''

She could have died on the spot. He was so dramatic. Since their little incident, she had toned it down on the ABBA tunes, stoically sticking to singing in the shower and the occasional hum of a tune as she cooked dinner—nothing outrageous.

''No, I haven't seen them yet.'' she lied.

''Right, okay. Well, I'll be off then,'' he settled. ''Also, before I go, I just want to say sorry for being short with you the other day; you just caught me at a bad time.''

She smiled. So maybe he wasn't as rude as he came across the first time they met.

''No worries, all forgotten'' she said. Lie, as if she'd ever forget that moment.

He gave her an odd thumbs up, and she watched him as he walked out of the shop, turning left momentarily and then stopping at his front door to unlock it.

'The racket hasn't stopped' She thought of his words. What a load of rubbish. If anyone had the right to complain about noise, it was her with his deafening screams that she now assumed had something to do with the whole 'Youtuber thing' and not to forget his god-awful drum and bass.

Even though he had apologised for their first meeting, Y/N sort of wished she hadn't given him those free treats now.

✩ ✩ ✩

The weekend passed with Y/N enjoying her days off, and luckily her days off were silent; there was no loud noise from next door. Y/N had seen no more of the 'noisy Youtuber' she was now referring to him as. She had wished she had gotten his name so she could have done some stalking or at least come up with a reason for all the shouting. She thought he must have been one of those crazy gaming channels.

Monday came around quickly after the weekend, a quiet day for Y/N. She'd get a few people on their work journey in for an Americano or the occasional little old lady to come in for a morning cup of tea, but that was about it. It was a slow day. But Y/N didn't mind; it meant she could do all the tasks that she had left from the week before—a little bit of admin, ordering new coffee beans, replacing any damaged cups—all that sort of thing.

She ran the cafe solely by herself, and while sometimes it felt like she was in over her head, it was also very peaceful. She was her own boss and also had no one to boss around, which she loved because she was very bad at telling people what to do - a bit shy in that aspect.

She had just finished serving an old lady a slice of carrot cake when she heard the door chime. In waltzed her noisy neighbour. For fuck sakes, not again.

He walked in, the sunlight from outside dancing upon his tousled blonde locks, casting what almost looked like a golden halo around his head. His cheeks were flushed and his face was shiny; he must have been coming from the gym.

Clad in a blue and white hoodie adorned with bold red lettering, he exuded effortless athleticism. Y/N thought if she hadn't been so hindered by his presence, she might actually fancy him. The way the fabric hugged his toned body, accentuating the contours of his chiselled frame, There was no denying that he was an attractive man.

As he moved closer to the counter, Y/N let out an exhale—a breath she didn't even realise she had been holding.

''Hello again.'' he smiled, placing a medium-sized box on the counter. She hadn't even realised he was holding anything when he entered the shop; too busy staring at his face.

''Hi.'' She smiled back at him, surprised she'd managed to even get any words out. ''What can I get for you?''

''Oh, nothing today,'' he paused. '',though the food the other day was amazing, honestly, no complaints. ''

''I'm glad.'' she grinned. She knew her baked goods were delicious, but hearing it from other people was always lovely.

''It's just that I got a parcel delivered to mine, but I think it's actually meant for my neighbour. I rang their doorbell, but they didn't answer.'' His eyes narrowed, looking at the name on the front of the parcel.

''Oh, right.'' she said. Shit, shit, shit. That's all that was going around in her mind. It's her bloody parcel, and he's got it.

''Yeah, I was just wondering if you had a way to get a hold of them. Says the name on the front is Y/N.''

She was screwed. Absolutely screwed. He knew her name. Well, he knew the name of his neighbour, but he didn't know that that same name belonged to her. All it took now was for one of her regulars to come through the doors shouting 'Afternoon, Y/N' and her cover was blown. She was truly fucked, she thought.

Y/N wasn't even sure herself at this point why she was so desperate for him to not know that it was her living next door to him. Maybe it was the fact that he had heard her sing every 80's song known to man in one weekend, but it can't have been because she'd heard him sing equally worse over the last few weeks. Sure, she had even heard his numerous shouts that still startled her; God knows what he was up to in there. But still, despite all that, she felt embarrassed at the thought of telling him now that she was the girl next door. It had gone too far now.

''I haven't heard anything from them in a while. Maybe they're on holiday,'' she lied further.

''No, I don't think so,'' his face screwed in a look of concentration as he tried to come up with something plausable as to what his'mystery neighbour' was up to. '' I heard them singing again last night. They're definitely about.''

''Oh, that's strange, then.'' The lie just kept going; she couldn't stop. She was in too deep.

''I'll have to try again later, I suppose.'' She wasn't going to answer if he came ringing her doorbell later. She couldn't even remember what she had ordered at this rate, but all she knew was that whatever was in that box was not worth the humiliation that she'd feel if her lie was exposed.

''I guess so.'' she paused. ''You sure I can't get you anything while you're here?''

He pondered for a second, his eyes scanning the menu hung up on the wall. Various coffees, teas, matcha, and cakes ''Actually, I'll take a chamomile tea if that's alright.''

''Coming right up,'' she smiled.

She moved behind the counter, grabbing a stainless steel jug to fill up with hot water. She could feel his eyes on her as she took a blue disposable cup, placing it in front of him. A little wooden spoon was placed on the side too.

Once the hot water had filled the jug, she took out a chamomile tea bag, placing it in the cup and pushing the tray towards him.

''There you go. That's two pounds when you're ready.'' she said, tapping two pounds and holding the card reader towards him.

He tapped his card and lifted the cup that held his chamomile tea on it with one hand, the box in the other.

''Thank you.'' he said. ''Hopefully, I'll see you later when you can get hold of my neighbour.''

''I'll keep you updated.'' She smiled back, the most unconvincing smile she'd probably ever made.

As he left, Y/N felt herself sink into the counter, her head hanging down. What was she going to do?

✩ ✩ ✩

The weeks passed in a blur for Y/N, each day blending into the next as she worked tirelessly to keep her cafe running smoothly. But no matter how hard she tried to push the thought to the back of her mind, the truth of her situation lingered in the back of her mind, a constant reminder of the lie she was living.

It wasn't until one fateful day, when her noisy neighbour walked through the door of her cafe, that she realised she could no longer keep up the facade.

''Morning.'' he grinned, stepping through the door, his eyes lighting up as he caught sight of Y/N behind the counter.

''Hi.'' she replied, trying to ignore the nervous fluttering in her chest. ''What can I get for you?''

''Actually,'' he smiled. ''I was wondering if you'd managed to get hold of my neighbour yet?''

Y/N felt her heart sink at his words, a wave of guilt washing over her. She knew that she couldn't keep lying to him and that she had to come clean about who she really was.

''Actually,'' she said, her voice trembling slightly. ''I am your neighbour .''

He stared at her in disbelief, his eyes wide with shock. ''You're joking, right?'' he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

''No, I'm serious.'' she replied, her voice barely audible over the sound of her pounding heart. ''I'm the one who's been causing all the noise.''

Her neighbour's shock quickly turned to amusement as he burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the empty cafe. ''You're having me on.'' he said, shaking his head in disbelief. ''All this time, I thought it was some crazy person living up there.''

''I'm sorry.'' Y/N said, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. ''But you're one to talk; don't think there's a day that's gone by where I haven't heard you shouting.''

He laughed, holding his hands up in defeat. ''That is fair; I'm sorry as well.''

She smiled, and a sense of relief washed over her. He wasn't angry that she'd dragged her silly lie out for the past few weeks. And if anything, it was amusing to her too—the pair were both as loud as each other, complaining about the other's noise - a pair of idiots.

'''Honestly, I should have guessed it was you sooner.'' her neighbour said, still chuckling to himself. ''With your little cafe here, I never see you leave.''

''Home and work all rolled into one.'' she smiled.

A silence came over the two, and Y/N couldn't tell if it was awkward or not. But the truth was finally out. There was no dancing around her little lies anymore. All the awkwardness was gone.

He broke the silence. ''Well, now that we've got that sorted, where do we go from here?''

''I mean, a proper introduction on my part is probably needed,'' she laughed. ''I'm Y/N, but you knew that already, sort of?''

A smile tugged on the corners of his face. ''Good to put a face to the name.'' he paused. ''I'm Harry.''

Finally a name, Y/N thought.

Harry. Harry, her noisy neighbour.

a/n: thanks for reading!!! part two out soon!!! split up my writing into parts so it's not too long to read. hope u all enjoyed. bit of a slow burn but more to come!!! xxx

#w2s #wroetoshaw #w2s x reader #harry wroetoshaw #harry lewis #harry w2s #sidemen #w2s fic #w2s imagine #wroetoshaw imagine #wroetoshaw oneshot #hollytoshaw #chris md #arthurtv #sidemen x reader

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gurugirl · 3 months

Text

an adorable bad boy | loveable!rogue!harry

This is part 1 of a Patreon AU (4 parts have been posted on Patreon already). If you'd like more check out my Patreon! xoxo

A loveable rogue is someone who breaks the law for personal profit while being nice and charming, likely with a sad or dark past.

AU Premise: Harry has been in and out of jail for nearly a decade due to a string of bad luck and bad choices. But he's not a bad guy. Not really.

Summary: Harry's trying to keep on the straight and narrow now that he's out of jail but things have never come easy for him. And then he meets the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. Maybe things won't be so bad after all. If only she'd give him her number.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warning: Mentions of drugs and the sale of drugs, mentions of jail time

❊❊❊

Harry’s life sucked. Every time he tried to get on the right track, his past would come back to haunt him. He took responsibility for the things he did and he knew he deserved to have the book thrown at him. But he also knew where he came from didn’t make things easier for him. Starting at a young age he had to act like an adult and do things most people would never imagine needing to do just to get by.

Now, nearing 30, he was determined to get his shit together. If he had to step foot in another jail cell again he was going to just end it. He couldn’t handle another sentence that had him losing a job, his car, the place he was staying… Every time he got into trouble it was like he had to start over again. From scratch.

And he was always well-behaved once behind bars so he usually got out early on good behavior. But keeping out of trouble as a free man was nearly impossible. He’d be tossed out on the street once he was released but with no place to go and not a dime to his name, times were hard. He had to hustle for a dollar. And when he meant hustle, it usually involved something illegal.

Getting a job that paid well was a joke. No one wanted a convicted felon. No one would hire a man who had a criminal record. Why risk it? He sure as hell wouldn’t if he were in their shoes.

There was no program to help him reintegrate. No help for a safe spot to sleep. Shelters wouldn’t even allow him a safe haven due to his past. He had nothing. Incarceration meant drudging through, keeping his head down, and following directions. That was easy. But there was nothing easy about rebuilding his life over and over again once he was out from behind bars.

His sister wouldn’t answer his calls anymore. He’d drained that well dry. His mother had cut him off too. His cousin was a last resort, but that’s sort of how his life was these days. Everything was a last resort.

“Harry! My dude! You get out?”

He was leaning against a tall residential building in an alley with a cigarette in hand. The phone he was using was the one that he had when he got locked up, kept for him upon his release. The officer helping him fill out his release forms allowed him to charge his phone before they pushed him out the doors. How kind.

The wifi signal from the bookstore gave him access to his apps so he could make the phone call he was dreading.

“Yep. Glad to be out of there. How are you doing?” He figured he’d make some small talk before getting to the point. He didn’t want to be rude, after all.

Saul gave him the rundown of what had been going on with everyone. And then Harry learned he was engaged.

“Wow. Congrats, cousin. Proud of you. You guys living together?”

“Nah. Not until after the wedding. She’s a really good girl. Super sweet. Her whole family is. Just like, the nicest people I’ve ever met. But she doesn’t want to move in until we’re married since that looks bad to her parents,” Saul laughed. “They’re super conservative about stuff like that. They think she’s still a virgin.”

Harry humored him with a chortle through the phone and then sighed. The sun was going down. Small talk needed to come to a halt. He had to get this part over with.

“So, uh… hate to ask this but um, could you let me crash at your place for a few nights? I’ve got nowhere to go since I just got out and gonna be cold tonight. Otherwise, I’d just sleep in the park or something.”

Silence for a few uncomfortable seconds.

“Did you ask your sister? I mean I’m sure–“

“She hates me right now. Won’t take my calls. But man, look, it’s okay if you can’t. I get it.”

“You know what? Sure. You can stay here for a bit. I know shit’s hard. How you gettin’ here?”

Harry let out the breath he’d been holding in and leaned his head back into the building in relief, “Gonna walk. Literally have nothing to my name. Just my old cell phone, half charged, and this free wifi I’m using to call you. I can get there in like an hour.”

Saul told him he’d pick him up but Harry didn’t want to trouble him anymore than he had. It was already embarrassing asking for help. Plus a walk through the city would feel good. It’d been a while since he’d seen the hustle and bustle of daily life in the city.

It was late September. He was wearing black jeans and a black t-shirt with boots. At least he had a beanie on his head. His cousin lived in one of those “up-and-coming” neighborhoods. Gritty but recently gentrified. His flat was two floors up. A flimsy plastic call button for the residents hung outside the reinforced glass door that opened up to a small lobby with mailboxes in the wall to the left and just beyond that, old wooden stairs that led up to each apartment.

Saul was on floor three. Harry took the stairs two at a time and the door was already open with his smiling cousin waiting for him and then a warm embrace that made Harry feel like maybe he was going to be okay. Silly as it sounded. He hadn’t been hugged in over a year. Hadn’t felt safe and relaxed in over a year.

“Ordered some pizza from this fire spot. Should be here soon. Beer?”

Harry could cry. He hadn’t had pizza or beer in over a year either. There was a lot he hadn’t had in over a year.

“Uh, yeah. Thank you, man.”

Harry followed Saul into his tiny galley kitchen and leaned against the frame of the door as he watched his cousin pull a beer from the fridge, “And thank you for everything. For this. I really mean it. I’ll pay you back as soon as I get a job.”

Handing Harry his beer Saul laughed, “We’ll see. Alyssa and I might need help for the wedding next summer. Her dad wants to have the wedding at their place. They’ve got this nice house with a massive garden in the back. But they need people to help landscape and do some manual labor to get it ready. Might save us a little money if you could help. But that’s a ways off,” he waved his hand as he walked past Harry into the living room. “Don’t worry about it right now. I’ll figure out a way you can pay me back.”

. . .

A few nights turned into a few weeks. And Harry did find a job, but he’d need to save up for a while longer to be able to afford a place on his own. He figured, at least he could pay Saul for food and help pay some of the bills in the meantime.

Fortunately, the job he found paid pretty well. Unfortunately, it was illegal. It was what had gotten him thrown in jail in the first place.

Selling drugs. Mainly weed. Some shrooms, ecstasy, molly… party drugs.

He applied to 28 places. Twenty. Eight. Dishwasher, food prep, janitor, midnight stocker, busboy, fast food line cook… everything he could find from places that might take a chance on someone with a record. After a week of having Harry sleeping on his couch, Saul appeared to be getting frustrated. So, Harry did what he always did when he needed money (and who doesn’t need money?). He called Memo.

Memo always had a spot for Harry. And because he trusted Harry he gave him an advance.

The first thing Harry did with his money was buy some clothes for himself and groceries for the house. Getting rid of his supply was easy. He still had all his old contacts to sell to and with Harry’s natural charm, he was introduced to even more people who wanted some killer weed and Harry was their man.

Saul seemed to lighten up a bit when Harry began paying him cash for his part of the bills and to help cover some of the rent.

Being a drug dealer bought him time. Eventually, he’d find a better gig. He knew there were places that would hire felons, he just had to be patient. But in the meantime, doing shady shit to get by was necessary.

“So, I’m going out tonight. With Alyssa and a few others. Just going to Ray’s. You can join us if you want.”

Harry was sitting on the couch readying himself for another night in but maybe going out with his cousin for a few beers could be fun, “Anyone I know going?”

Saul shook his head, “Doubt it. It’ll be Alyssa, her little sister, and a few of our mutual friends.”

Harry figured it was better if the people that were going to be there didn’t know him. And besides, what better way to spend a Friday night as a single man? Sitting at Saul’s house was fine, but going out and meeting new people with a few beers in hand sounded a hell of a lot better.

Harry nodded, “Why not?”

. . .

Roy’s might have been an old hole in the wall, but it was a popular old hole in the wall. Harry could hear the music before they walked into the black brick building with the lighted, vintage metal sign that hung above the door.

The smell of stale cigarettes and beer hung in the dark space, a shiny lacquered bar that ran half the length of the room, high-top tables, two pool tables, and a few booths.

Alyssa nearly pummeled Saul, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and kissing him on the cheek as she squealed.

“We’re just over here! Tony got us a big booth 'cause he got here early.” She pulled Saul along with her. Harry followed.

The group that came into view were two young men and two young women. He barely had a chance to take it all in before Alyssa pulled his arm, “Everyone! This is Harry, Saul’s cousin. The one we were telling you about.”

The one we were telling you about. Harry knew what that meant.

Harry smiled and nodded as he slid into the booth. It was long and easily accommodated all seven of them.

“I’m Kelin,” the man he sat next to held his hand out to Harry to shake. The one next to Kelin greeted Harry, “I’m Tony,” he turned and looked at the girl next to him, “And this is my girlfriend, Dasha.” Dasha smiled and waved at Harry.

Then as Alyssa moved into the opposite side of the booth with Saul at the end she hugged the girl next to Dasha, “And this is my little sister, Y/n.”

Some moments in time are unexplainable. Like moments when things feel like fate but you don’t believe in that sort of thing. Or like when someone is speaking a language you don’t know but you swear you understood everything they just said. Sometimes it was more like a riddle you couldn’t figure out all day only to wake up in the middle of the night from a dream with the answer.

The moment Y/n set her pretty gaze upon Harry was like that for him. Something inexplicable. Something enchanting. Almost mythical.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Harry spoke as he tried to tear his eyes from the angel called Y/n. He forced his pupils away to look at everyone else but his heart was already beginning to thump violently in his chest.

Drinks were ordered and conversation resumed to wherever it was left off before Saul and Harry’s arrival.

“So, we were discussing anything but the wedding!” Dasha laughed as Alyssa moaned exaggeratedly.

“I was only letting you guys know the theme!” Alyssa laughed.

“Girl, tonight is a night off. And the wedding isn’t for like another 8 months!”

Harry tried to focus on the conversation as he sipped his beer but he couldn’t help allowing his eyes the indulgence of Y/n’s pretty face. She had some kind of clear drink. A vodka soda maybe. And when Kelin started talking about the Halloween party he was throwing Y/n’s eyes met Harry’s again and he thought he was going to fall limp to the floor in a puddle at her feet.

He didn’t even know what her voice sounded like and he was already imagining waking up next to her in the morning and getting to see her disheveled hair and warm pajamas and soft, tired eyes. He had never had such a visceral reaction to anyone before. Ever.

Another round of drinks made its way to the table and Harry hardly spoke a word. Y/n only laughed a few times at what was being said but otherwise, she remained quiet as she sipped her drink.

He needed to talk to her. He needed to learn all about her. He wasn’t sure why it felt so important, so vital to him. But every time she looked at him his throat went dry and he searched her face for any sign that she might be feeling the same odd connection that he was feeling.

“I need a cigarette,” Y/n spoke as she looked at Alyssa, making Saul and Alyssa scoot out of the booth to let her out.

Harry tapped his fingers on the table as he watched her walk past before speaking up, “Yeah, me too.” He hopped up from the booth and jogged to catch up with his dream girl before she could push the door open.

“Allow me,” he grabbed the handle and opened the door for her.

“What a gentleman. Thank you,” she grinned teasingly at him and Harry felt his head swirl and his knees go weak. She smiled at him and he was sure he was in love at that moment.

“I try,” he chuckled as he followed her to the edge of the building before she pulled out her pack of cigarettes. Harry liked the same brand.

He pulled out his lighter and held it out as she put the filter between her lips. The flame lit the tip and then Harry put his own cigarette into his mouth and lit it.

“You have good taste,” Y/n gestured with her cigarette toward his and watched his mouth as he inhaled the smoke into his lungs.

“Guess we both do,” he blew the smoke out and it mixed with the smoke she blew out at the same time.

“Heard you recently got out of jail. Alyssa told me to keep my distance,” she laughed as she took another puff, her eyes on his.

“Yeah. Trying to keep on the straight and narrow now. Jail sucks,” he let his gaze wander over her lips and jawline and down to her neck, “I’m not that bad, though. You gonna get in trouble with your big sister for having a smoke with me?”

She snorted (which Harry found adorable and irresistible) and shook her head, “I’m an adult. She tries to act protective and tough but she knows better than to tell me what I can and can’t do. In fact,” she took a drag and lowered her gaze to Harry’s outfit and then back up to his eyes before exhaling, “When she tells me not to do something it just makes me want to do it more.”

Harry felt his face grow warm as he listened to her speak and couldn’t help the smile that took over his face, dimples winking awake in his cheeks.

“Oh shit,” she leaned into the brick and crossed an arm over her middle, one arm angled out with the cigarette propped between her two fingers, “You’ve got dimples.”

Harry ashed his stick, keeping the smile on his face, “I guess I do. Is it okay?”

Y/n laughed softly, the prettiest sound Harry had ever heard, and nodded, “Of course it’s okay. It’s adorable.”

“Adorable…” Harry repeated as he leaned his shoulder into the brick and faced Y/n, “Think I’m adorable?” He pulled his lips into his mouth, tamping his wide smile as he blushed. Yeah, he was blushing.

She reached her hand up to his shoulder-length hair to tug at a curl, “You are. Pretty curls, green eyes, dimples. I get why Alyssa didn’t want me to get mixed up with you. An adorable bad boy. Dangerous combo.”

Harry shook his head and looked down at her feet before winding his pupils up her frame to her face, “Bad boy? Nah, not really. Just made some stupid decisions.”

Y/n shrugged and pulled at her cigarette before blowing out the hot smoke, “Mmm….” She pursed her lips and squinted at him, “You’re definitely a bad boy. You kind of emanate that persona. And I bet you use those dimples to charm all the ladies.”

Harry chuckled and looked down again to give his retinas a break from her breathtaking beauty. When he looked back at her he shook his head slowly, “If anything you’re the charmer. Making me blush over here.”

She giggled and leaned her head back as she looked up into the sky. Harry was not going to be getting over her laugh. He knew he’d be dreaming about it too.

“I’m just honest is all. Not particularly charming I don’t think.”

Harry shook his head and pointed at her, “No. You are definitely charming. Sweeping me right off my feet.”

“Oh, I am? Falling for me already, Harry?” She smirked at him and turned her body to face his, mimicking his stance.

Was it too soon for him to fall for her? Yes. But Harry was never one to play by usual timelines. He grinned and licked his lips, “Be bad if I said I was?”

She puffed out a laugh, “Probably would be bad. You don’t even know me. I’m really not all that great. Lots of issues. Very unstable,” she laughed as she gestured at her head and then wrapped her lips around the filter to inhale.

“If that’s the case, then you’re just that much cuter,” Harry parted his lips to place the cigarette between them as he kept his eyes on hers.

She bit her lip and turned to look out into the street, “You gonna go to the Halloween party next week?”

Harry shook his head, “Probably not. Wasn’t invited. Don’t like to dress up for shit like that anyway.”

“Hmm… If you go I’ll go,” she turned to look at him and raised her brows.

Harry stitched his brows together and tilted his head, “Are you serious?”

She nodded, “Sure. Why not. Wasn’t planning on going either but I will if you do.”

Harry narrowed his eyes at her and grinned, “Still wasn’t invited, though. We’ll see.”

Y/n tossed her butt down to the ground and stepped over the tip to crunch out the burning end, “Probably should get back in there. Alyssa’s gonna think we’ve run off together. That’d really get her going.”

Harry chuckled and followed suit with his own cigarette and nodded before following her back to the booth in the bar.

This time, as luck would have it, Harry scooted into his original spot and Y/n sat down next to him at the end.

“I wish you wouldn’t smoke,” Alyssa frowned at Y/n and Harry leaned forward to put his elbows on the table as he turned to look at Y/n’s profile. She was certainly stunning.

Y/n shook her head and looked at Dasha, “Will you pass my drink down?”

Harry looked down at his lukewarm beer and pushed himself into the seat, his back hitting the vinyl cushion behind him before turning his head to watch as Y/n drank from her glass.

Everyone at the table resumed their conversation but both Harry and Y/n were thinking about the way their thighs were pressed together and how warm it felt. How nice it was.

“You’re staring,” she whispered with a grin as she set her glass down on the table and turned slightly to see the limn of his outline in her peripheral.

He grinned as he leaned his shoulder into hers as he spoke quietly, “Can’t help it.”

Harry tried to be as subtle as possible with everyone around but his skin was tingling in delight any time she shifted to pick up her glass her thigh ran against the stretch of his jeans. He regretted that he couldn’t stare into her beautiful eyes but he loved her nearness. The smell of her perfume and her shampoo.

“So, Harry,” Tony spoke up, “What do you do for fun?”

Harry was caught off guard. He’d been far too focused on the girl next to him that he nearly forgot he might need to participate in a conversation.

He laughed and looked at Saul and then to Tony, “I like music a lot. Um… reading. I don’t know,” he shrugged.

“He used to be in a band. Plays guitar and sings. He can play almost any instrument actually,“ Saul chimed in.

Harry rolled his eyes when everyone began to ask questions. He didn’t enjoy talking about himself because then that wound up leading to discussing his time in jail. Thankfully no one brought it up, though he was sure everyone already knew anyway. Saul wasn’t exactly discreet.

When the bill was paid after everyone threw down some cash, Y/n slid out of the booth with Harry right behind her, “Can I have your number?” He spoke so only she could hear as he brushed his fingers against hers.

She stopped and turned toward him, a mischievous grin on her face, “I’ll give you my number if you come to the party next weekend.”

Everyone began to walk to the door and Y/n turned to leave but Harry wasn’t done. He felt his heart walloping in his chest as he hastened his steps after her, pulling at her hand as stealthily as possible, “I can’t just crash a party I wasn’t invited to.”

When they stepped outside Y/n moved to the side to let everyone walk past and she looked up at Harry, “If you don’t come then you don’t get my number. It’s up to you.”

Harry swallowed as he looked down at the pretty girl in amazement, “Fine. I’ll be there.”

She smiled sweetly and raised her hand to poke at his dimple, “I know you will.”

NEXT PART (link goes to Patreon)

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