#the event was scheduled for tomorrow and friday.... shit i was gonna do something on friday ill have to | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

strawberrysturniolo · 2 months

Text

never grow up seven

summary: after taking things to long distance, sunny and chris face the highs and lows of their love story. smuttyyyyyy and angstyyy. mentions of depression. some phone sex.

part six

part eight

Chris’ POV

The first two weeks of me and Sunny were so good. So fucking good.

We were on such a high, a honeymoon phase I had never experienced before. We were talking consistently, both of us trying our hardest to make time for each other while we continued with our lives as we lived on opposite sides of the country.

One weekend in particular, I was kinda shit about responding, but it really wasn’t my fault. I had a shoot for Fresh Love on Friday, then had to go to an event that night. Saturday, we filmed a collaborative video all day with other YouTubers, and that night we filmed our podcast for Monday. Sunday, I met up with my friends at a music video shoot, and now that it’s Monday again, Sunny is back in classes.

I woke up late from having such a loaded weekend, and when I tried calling her at 1 p.m., she declined my call.

Me: Hey. Are you in class?

Sunshine: at work

Me: Oh

Me: Sorry. I had a crazy weekend. Woke up late because I’m exhausted. Can you talk after work?

Sunshine: i wont get home until midnight and then i have an 8 am tmr.

Sunshine: you didnt have a minute to text at all?

Me: I’m sorry baby

Me: I was really busy

Me: I’m trying to talk now but it’s the time zones fault

Sunshine: yeah

I know she’s upset with me. This is one of those unfortunate things that comes with distance. I’m really trying. When both of us are free, it’s great, and we can talk forever, but when one of us is really busy, it throws everything off.

My schedule was loaded this weekend, and hers is loaded through the week with her classes and work, so with those combined, we haven’t really talked in a week.

Me: I love you. Text me when you’re home from work so I can say goodnight

Sunshine: i love you too

I feel like shit. I’m really trying here. I can’t read her tone over text messages, and we haven’t had the time to have a real conversation over the phone.

We’ll try harder tomorrow.

–

Sunshine: are u kidding me christopher!!!!

Me: What!!!

Sunshine: what are these flowers for??????

Me: Lol. Surprise

Sunshine: i’m gonna cry

Me: Noooo they weren’t supposed to make you sad

Sunshine: i’m happy! this was just so sweet. i miss you sm

Me: Can you talk?

She FaceTime’s me instantly. I was never a FaceTime kind of guy. Even though me and my brothers are away from everyone we grew up with, I still was never the kind of person to opt for a FaceTime call.

With her, I’ll always answer a call so I can see her face.

“Hey, pretty girl,” I smile, watching her place her flowers into a clear vase in her kitchen. I lay down on my bed, tucking a pillow under my chin.

“Hi!” she waves. She’s fucking adorable. “This is so cute, Chris. I had no idea you were doing this!”

“That’s the point of a surpriseeeeeee,” I remind her. “Did you see the card?”

“I did,” she nods, smiling big at me. “Very sweet of you.”

I shrug casually. “I try. How was your day?”

She lets out an exhausted sigh. “Good, but busy. I’ve kinda been feeling like shit lately.”

I sit up straight, pushing the pillow I had been laying on out of the frame. “What? Why didn’t you say something?”

“You’re 3,000 miles away,” she reminds me. “What are you going to be able to do?”

“Listen while you rant, give you advice, give you some encouragement,” I list off for her. “What kind of shit?”

“Just the usual–”

“Sunny!” I interrupt her. “You gotta tell me these things!”

“Well, sorry! I didn’t want to text you, ‘Hey, congrats on all the great stuff you’re doing, I’m super depressed and feel miserable all the time and all I want is my boyfriend to come home and be with me.’ That would only make me feel worse.”

I frown at her. I don’t want her feeling like she’s going to rain on my parade.

“I’m okay, Chris,” she assures me. “Promise. I wasn’t feeling too well, but I’m better now.”

“Will you tell me next time? I don’t want you to be alone.”

She nods gently. “Mhm, I’ll tell you.”

“I’ll come back by myself if I have to–”

“No,” she interrupts. “You’re going to stay and do your thing because I need to be able to figure this out myself. You can’t run back to Boston anytime I have an issue.”

“Why not?”

She gives me a ‘come on,’ type look, like I’m being ridiculous. “How was your day?” she asks me instead.

I lift the camera up so she can see me laying in my bed. “Hasn’t started yet.”

I can see her eyes scanning my body closely, her face inches from her phone as she bites her bottom lip. I know she’s staring at my body. We’ve been feeling more risky about things, sending each other suggestive photos. It’s the only way I can really feel close to her sexually. I never thought I would be sending her, of all people, pictures of my hard dick through my underwear.

The other night she got me good, sending a picture of herself in the shower, her arm covering her tits, but pressing them into her chest enough for them to look plumper than usual. The water droplets on her skin added more to the photo, sending me into a spiral.

“Whatcha looking at, babe?”

She smirked at me through the phone. “The underwear poking out of your sweatpants.”

“Yeah?” I asked, pushing my pants down so she could see my underwear fully. I pulled the bottoms of it down more, seeing that it rode up my thighs as I laid down.

“Jesus,” she sighed, taking me into her room with her.

“Yeah?”

I set the phone up on a stray pillow across my bed so she can see my entire body. I press my hand into my dick, palming myself lightly. I immediately feel a rush through my dick, forcing me to shove my hand into my briefs to touch myself.

“I miss you baby,” I nod at her. “Miss your sweet face.”

She watches me as I stroke my dick, whispering softly in that sweet voice, “I miss you more.”

Not a fucking chance.

“No shot,” I challenge.

“I promise,” she insists, her doe eyes really doing the trick to convince me.

I hold my dick still in my fist, shoving my briefs out of the way so she can see me. “You see how much you turn me on, baby?” I ask her, hoping she notices how red my tip is right now from the swelling, not to mention the fact that I have precum leaking out of me like I’m touch starved, probably because I am.

She lays down on her bed, right on her stomach. She mumbles a “fuck,” as she gets comfortable. “You’re so hot.”

“You are,” I smile, stroking myself faster.

I watch as she pulls her jeans off, lifting her ass in the air for me to see.

I pause for a second as I stare at her lower back, the thong hugging her hips in the most perfect way. I’m contemplating booking a flight right now so I can put my handprints all over that ass.

“Ohhh fuck,” I groan, squeezing around my tip with a tight fist. “You’re perfect.” She smiles at me as she watches my motions, now listening to my groaning sounds as I struggle to keep myself casual.

“Does that feel good?” she asks curiously as she turns over to her back.

“Mhm,” I hum. “Not as good as you.”

She lowers the camera to her pelvis, showing me her hand as it glides down her thong, and settles right over her pussy.

“Oh good girl,” I nod. “Show me how you touch yourself, Sunny.” She lowers the camera even further, settling it between her legs on a pillow somewhere a few inches out. I have a clear shot over her fingers burying themselves in her. A loud moan escapes my lips. “Perfect fucking pussy. All mine, right?”

“Uh huh,” she whimpers.

My cock continues to drip, and I quickly spread the precum across my length. “Talk to me baby. Tell me how much you need me,” I taunt as the sound of me fucking my hand fills the room. “My mouth on your swollen little clit, yeah?”

She nods desperately as she rubs herself faster. “I need you so bad, Chris,” she whines for me. “Stretching me out like before.”

“Yeah?” I ask, mindlessly bucking my hips so I get the illusion of her pussy as my hand right now, hovering above me as my dick buries itself into her. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum baby.”

I set my phone up next to me, changing the angle slightly so she can see my face and my dick in the same shot. My balls tighten, and I rub them for some sort of release.

I listen to her pretty moans, using them as fuel to the fire.

“You’re so pretty, Chris,” she tells me, but I can’t focus on it. I’m moaning so bad, I sound like a fool.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chant to myself, my face scrunching in pleasure as she continues to try talking me through it, but my ears are fucking ringing as the release floods through me. “Oh! Shit!” I curse loudly, laying my dick on my stomach and rubbing myself through my orgasm, the cum dripping across my abdomen.

I keep my eyes on her despite how heavy they feel. My breathing is just as bad. “God, keep going baby,” I encourage her, noticing how badly she’s dripping in front of me and I can’t fucking touch her.

“I’m close, Chris.”

“Uh huh, you got it.”

The sound of her fingers going in and out of her has me ready for another round. I’m half hard, really debating on going again as I watch her.

“Oh god, Sunny,” I breathe out. She looks fucking beautiful. She always does. “My perfect fucking girl.” She bends her knees, the most perfect shot of her pussy as she cums directly in my vision. “Ohhhh there you go.” She starts panting tirelessly as it drips down her hand. “Good girl. Fuck, I wish I was there to lick you clean baby.”

She looks down at the mess she made and says, “Me too.” Once she cleans herself up and settles back in bed, she asks, “When are you coming home?”

I wipe my stomach clean and pull on a clean pair of underwear. “I don’t know yet, I answer honestly. “Maybe the end of the month.” She nods at me, and I can tell she’s disappointed. “Soon, I promise.”

“Okay,” she gives me a half smile. “I have to go change for work.”

I nod, disappointed that our call is coming to an end. “Okay. Have a good day, baby. I love you.”

“I love you,” she says, and that’s the last time I talk to her that day.

–

The last few days have been rough. We’re back to barely talking. I feel like shit. I feel guilty, but it’s not my fault. I’m trying, I really am. It’s the time zone. It’s fucking everything up. I sleep in, and by the time I’m up and doing stuff, she’s at work and can’t talk. Then she’s going to bed, and we have like… an hour in the day to talk.

I thought we could make this work. I thought things would fall into place.

I’ve stayed up every night this week trying to think of how to talk to her about this, but I’m too scared. I keep holding back everything that I feel.

I’m quite literally shaking as I click on her contact, texting her a quick message.

Me: Hey. Can you talk?

Sunshine: i’m about to go to bed

Me: Please

A photo of her smiling pops up on my phone with her caller ID on top. I answer the call with a deep breath.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” she mumbles. “What’s up?”

“Are you in bed already?”

“Mhm,” she hums. “Long day. Is everything okay?”

No.

I’ve never been in this position before, and I don’t know how to do this the right way.

Just rip off the bandaid.

“I don’t think this is working out,” I say simply. My voice is soft, yet firm.

I hear the rumbling of her bedsheets and then her broken voice. “What?”

Shit.

That pretty voice that sews me together just ripped me apart.

“Sunny– I just– I don’t think I can give you what you need,” I say honestly, picking at the subtle rip in my jeans on my thigh. I pull at the fraying material and toss the scraps on the floor.

“Chris–”

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, looking at my ceiling. “I just don’t think it’s fair to keep stringing you along if I know it’s not going to work out.”

I know this isn’t what she wants to hear. I think in the future we could work out, but right now, we’re doomed. I don’t want to have this heartbreaking story when we could prevent it. We were in over our heads.

“We’ll try harder,” she says.

The desperation in her voice is killing me. “I know this is hard.” Fuck, I’m trying to keep myself together so I don’t back out of this. “But I think it’s better this way.”

“We can make it work, Chris,” she insists.

I shake my head, trying to keep myself from breaking down. “It’s not that easy. You deserve someone who can give you everything you want and need. Someone who can be there for you, emotionally, and physically… and I can’t do that for you right now. It’s so hard for me not being with you. I just want to hold you and be with you and I can’t, Sunny. I want to come home and be with you everyday but I need to be in LA.” The line is silent, and I know she’s going to make this hard for me. I deserve it, but she deserves the truth. “I really want this, but I can’t give it to you right now, and it’s not fair for either of us.”

The only conversations we’ve had this last week are us arguing or sexting. That’s not how this should be.

“How long have you been feeling like this?” she asks hesitantly. I know she’s scared of the answer.

I let out a heavy sigh, my hand running through my hair and tugging on it. “A little bit. I don’t know how long, but I’ve been trying to ignore my feelings and–”

“And you didn’t tell me you were having doubts?!” she asks accusingly.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to talk about it with you. I just– Fuck, Sunny– This is difficult and–”

“How is it difficult!” she asks. “I’m your best friend. I’m supposed to be the easiest person for you to talk to.”

“I know,” I agree with her, but does she not realize how fucking hard it is knowing that the one person I’m trying to be open with is the person who is going to face the damage? “That’s why it’s so hard. I don’t want to lose you as a friend too.”

She ignores my point.

“Why did you start a relationship with me then? You started this, Chris.”

I mean, she kissed me, but alright.

I’m too in shock at her tone and fight for this to think of anything to say.

“I… I didn’t mean to,” I stumble over my words. “I thought… I don’t know. I thought we could make it work.”

“Then let’s make it work.”

I roll my lips into my mouth, trying to keep myself from crying. The sound of her voice is destroying me. “Maybe we can, but right now I just need some time to think.”

“How much time?” she asks.

“I don’t know. A few days, maybe? A week?”

She scoffs. “Chris, if you have to think about if you want me or not then–”

“I said I need time to think, Sunny,” I remind her. “I’m not making any decisions right now.”

“But you’re questioning us to begin with! You said you’ve felt like this for a while so what’s there to think about!”

“Baby–”

“Don’t,” she says sharply.

I pace my room, a pit in my stomach growing. This is fucking awful. “I said I can’t right now.”

I hear a soft cry from her end, and I freeze. “Please, don’t do this.”

My eyes well with tears. “I’m so sorry. I really am. But I can’t be in this with you if I’m feeling doubts. I just need to figure things out, and maybe we can work it out.”

Something in her switches and all those tears and sadness turn into anger.

“So you fuck me after we’re friends for our whole lives. Then you leave without a word. Then you come back and say you’re in love with me, fuck me again, and then leave and want me to move on and be with other people. Oh wait! But then!” she continues. I just stand there in the middle of my room and let her rip me apart through the phone. “You want me to be with you and we’re happy and great and then you drop this and say you’ve been unhappy and want to break up?”

Yeah… So, I sound like shit.

My eyes narrow as I grip my phone. “That’s not fair,” I say, shaking my head. “I didn’t force you into anything, and I’m not trying to hurt you.”

“But you made me feel wanted by you!”

“I do want you!” I remind her. “But this isn’t about what we want, it’s about what I need right now.”

She pauses and lowers her voice. “Do you need me?”

I hate myself for the way I hesitate to answer her.

“Yes, I do.”

I can almost hear the sigh of relief in her voice.

“But not in the way you’re asking.”

Then I hear her cries. At this point, I’m breaking down with her.

“Is there anything I can do to make this work?” she asks again.

“No. There’s nothing you can do.”

I sit on my bed, listening to her cry, and I feel awful knowing that I can’t wipe those tears like I always do.

“I love you so much Chris,” she says desperately.

I wipe the tears that fall down my own cheeks. “I love you too, but I can’t be with you like this. Not right now.”

“Are we still going to be friends?” she asks. “Or are you going to go ghost again for four months?”

“I’m not going to ghost you,” I assure her. I fucked up that time, I really did, but I thought it’s what we needed. That time of no contact to figure ourselves out. It clearly made things worse. “I think we need some space though, just for a little bit.”

She’s pissed. It’s obvious. She’s gone from trying to talk me into staying with her, to now saying nothing at all.

“Look,” I say, trying to keep myself from sounding like a broken record. “I get that you’re hurt and disappointed, but I need to do this. I can’t keep going through this cycle of wanting you and then pulling away from you because I’m scared. I need to get to a place where I feel secure with you and I know we can make it work. Right now, it’s not that time.”

All I want right now is to hold her, kiss her, tell her it’s going to be okay. I want to lay next to her and smile at her before we go to bed. I want to be with her forever, never losing sight of each other.

But if we keep trying to force this relationship, we’re only going to ruin everything.

“I wish I could hate you,” she sobs. “I really do. But I could never hate you, Chris, and that’s the worst part.”

“I’m sorry,” I keep saying to her. The pain in my voice only becomes more evident. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“I’m always going to be in love with you, and you’re always going to know it.”

I sigh heavily. “I know. And that’s part of the problem.”

“Why?”

“Because,” I say, pausing to find the right words. “I can’t be with you like this. I need to figure myself out first.”

“You started this!” she says again.

“I know.” My voice is heavy with guilt. “And I’m sorry.”

“Are you even upset about this?” she questions. “I’m sitting here fucking crying and it’s like your emotions are shut off! Give me something, Chris!”

“Of course I’m upset!” I raise my voice in frustration. “You want to hear me cry? I never meant to hurt you like this.”

“THEN STOP!” she screams.

“I’M TRYING!” I yell back, my eyes rimmed with tears. “I can’t keep having this conversation. I’m sorry, but we need to break up.”

The line goes silent again.

“Please,” I plead with her. “Just say something.”

After a minute of silence she says, “I love you, and I hope you can get your shit together. If not for me, then hopefully for the next girl so you don’t fuck her over the same way.”

I sit staring at my floor. I don’t know what to say that will fix this or give her the same hope I feel for us. I do want this. All I’ve ever wanted was her. I just can’t do it right now. It’s not the right time.

I’ve dreamt of marrying this girl, and the idea of us having the wrong timing is terrifying me. It needs to be perfect, and it’s just not right now.

“I’m sorry,” I say finally, my voice thick with emotion as I try not to break down again. “I really am.”

I expect more fight from her considering she wouldn’t back down before.

I don’t get that.

“Goodbye.”

I’m torn between heartbreak, confusion, and anger.

“Goodbye.”

tag list : @mbbsgf @mattbrainrot @mattsneezing @r6diosturns @thottie777 @obscurechris @plasticferal @angelworldspost @alluringsturniolo @sleepysturnss @sturniolovoid @struniolos @skyeteller @sturniololol @sturniololoverr @flowerxbunnie @gamermattsgf @lunarsturniolo @luvsturniolo @lacysturniolo @luvmila444 @christinarowie332 @bellybumm @bernardenjoyer @n6ptunova @pepsiskiess @luverboychris @mattitties @sturnioloobsessed @sturnsbaby @sturnsblunt @sturnsreader @sturnsiolos0 @sturnswift

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #strawberrysturniolo #Spotify

397 notes · View notes

jxmieoleksiaks · 2 years

Text

Nonsense / Brady Skjei

This fic is for @antoineroussel ‘s 2022 summer fic exchange for @xsyntheticsensation ! Sorry this is posted a day before the deadline, but 45-47 hour work weeks kill your creative processes lol. i ‘m not sure if we’ve ever spoke before, but i do hope you enjoy this, and you can come into my ask about the suffering red wings anytime. (though lets hope the yzerplan works)

length: ~1.9K words tw: just a little swearing. it’s more cute than anything summary: sometimes it’s good to have a friend that can get you into events.. song inspo: Nonsense - Sabrina Carpenter gif: Mine.....don’t steal

The one good thing about not having too many friends? Your best friend didn’t either, and you were always her plus one at cool events. You had known a couple of her friends that worked at the arena with her for the events staff and others, but they were at the events too, so that gave you the lucky invite to free concerts, and free canes.

The first thing you knew about going to games with her, is that Aho was her absolute favorite. She would always joke around that maybe he would show up to a worker orientation and he would fall in love right then and there She was pretty without any effort though, so if that were to happen, it probably would.

“Allie, I bet one of these guys would fall in love with you before me.” She would say, with also having her eye out on an older co-worker, but that was a different rabbit hole.

It was a normal Friday night. You ended up getting carry out from your favorite diner near your apartment, and had a facetime with your mom back home in Tennessee. She had more of a life than you did, but always made time for a dinner facetime once a week. Her move shocked you, but it’s what you needed, and she knew that. Being in Carolina for a few years had helped you more than you thought.

During the facetime, you got a text asking to go to a free Canes event tomorrow afternoon. You read the text out to your mom and she for sure wanted you to go.

“I don’t know, let me check with Oreo, I do have a never ending schedule.” Mentioning your cat, like she was going to stop you.

Saturday came, and you threw on a normal Canes shirt with your favorite ripped jeans, and a little makeup look, because you wanted to look cute.

“So, what’s the event actually?” You had no idea what it was even about, it could be a season ticket event, even though she would know better, you get too many calls about season tickets since you end up getting ticketmaster resale ones most times.

“Just like a summer event, music, free shit and some players are supposed to be there.” She sounded excited.

“So, you’re finally gonna fall in love with Aho? Do your coworkers approve?” You asked with a slight laugh as you pulled into the parking garage, and she swiped her badge.

“Maybe, i don’t know who’s gonna be here, maybe I should have tried more?” She laughed. “Listen as I keep saying, could happen to you!” She smiled, she meant it genually, but to you, you just couldn’t believe it.

The concourse was hopping with loud music, and it made the both of you miss hockey season. You both loved coming to games seeing teams that you both, or separately enjoyed play the team. You ended up getting free shirts and phone chargers, and saw an interactive board on who was going to be there.

“Allie, you gotta meet Brady. I’ve seen him at the Christmas event at Kroger and he was cute, plus I think he and his wife split up.” Her eyes grew at you and gave you a smirk.

“Yeah he’s cute, I..don’t know if he would like this but..” You motioned down to yourself, knowing what kind of girls these hockey boys were into. You heard too many stories from her and seeing the significant others of these guys.

“Allie, now.” She grabbed your hand and shoved you around the concourse to where one of the bars was that you had dinner before games.

He was standing with Martinnook, and you couldn’t lie to yourself He was pretty attractive, the gray hair, though he wasn’t even thirty yet, was doing something to you for sure.

“Can you even get in this line?” You asked as you two stood in the long line.

“No one has to know, plus I think everyone knows I’m here, I’m a fan first.” She said, which was true. She always took the free tickets, and everyone knew she was a die hard fan before she took the job.

The line moved, and you two were walking up to the line. You said hi to Jordan with a smile and got an autograph and a quick picture. You then made your way to Brady and grinned and said Hi as he stared signing the photo. He looked up at you and stopped. Your fear was that he was disgusted…or something, you didn’t know.

“Hi..” He stopped in his tracks before you got to the photo opp.

“Well, I think he’s feelin something there.” Jordan laughed with your friend who was behind him.

You took the picture and he was very close to you, more closer than other players you had met at signings. You saw your friend laughing with Jordan, but the moment was over as security rushed you out, and he smiled and waved goodbye before you two met in front of the bar.

“I think he likes you.” She winked before messing with her phone, typing something quickly before shoving it back into her pocket. “And I know what you’re going to say, and don’t even.” She said, pushing you back to earth.

You two enjoyed the afternoon and headed home, as she had a dinner for her brothers birthday. She dropped you at your apartment and grinned at you as you walked to the building. She was acting pretty weird since the interaction, but you think she was just pretty excited for you. She knew men interaction for you, was rare as could be.

You had just fed Oreo and sat on your couch, trying to figure out what to make for dinner. You got up from the couch, heading back into the kitchen, when your Apple Watch buzzed and saw a number pop up that you didn’t notice.

Unknown Number: Hey. I got your number from Jordan. I don’t know your name but you were at the Summer Bash?

You ran to the couch to grab your phone. This..isnt real? This only happened on the internet..right?

Allie: Hi Yes I was… I’m Allie…did he get a number from a taller brunette?

Unknown Number: He did. Nice to meet you, Brady. If you’re not busy, how about dinner at Bru’s? I know, kind of sudden, but I don’t get that much time off.

You were frozen. This was so not happening right now. How much did Maya pay him?!

Allie: That would be perfect. I’ll meet you there : )

You threw your phone down and ran your hands through your hair. You could not comprehend the afternoon already, and now this?

You quickly texted Maya, explaining the saturation to her, and all she could send was a laugh, and smirk emoji.

“That bitch.” You said to yourself with a laugh, not even knowing what to think.

You redid your makeup and changed your top before petting Oreo on the head.

“Wish me luck Oreo.” You laughed nervously.

You hopped in your car and drove downtown. You were only about 20 minutes, but you were hoping the drive would take longer, so you could attempt to hype yourself up.

You walked into the restaurant and was seated at a booth. You were always so early, but if you were on time, your brain made you think you were late. You ordered a drink and waited, hoping this wasn’t a prank, or if someone weird got your number, and you were going to be kidnapped. After a couple sips of your drink, and scrolling Instagram, a tall man walked over to the table. You looked up and noticed the graying hair that you saw earlier today, and your eyes could have popped out of your head.

“So I’m not being punk’d or kidnapped?” You said, which, you probably shouldn’t have, but it just came out.

“Uh, nope, don’t see Ashton Kutcher here.” He laughed before he sat down.

“So, how in the hell, did you end up wanting my phone number….” You looked at him.

“I uh..” He ended up getting nervous. “I thought you were cute, and Jordan started laughing at me, and I think your friend tried to get us together.” He laughed.

“So not a dare?” You asked, hoping he wasn’t going to laugh at the words.

“Dare? Has…that happened to you before?” He asked.

You looked down, didn’t happen exactly like that, but you were not looked at by anyone really.

“Not the point, but just seems insane, you know? No complaints, just crazy.”

“Well, never know how it’ll turn out.” He smiled before he ordered his drink.

The conversation flowed easily. You listened to his stories and how he became a name thanks to Saturday Night live. That skit was iconic for sure. He also listened to you, how you moved to Ralighe, and just wanted to find a different life for yourself, but also stay the same.

You finished up your meal, and had another drink you both felt like you were done.

“There’s an ice cream place down the street, you up for some dessert?” Brady asked as he put his card down on the table for the waiter.

“If I ever say no to ice cream, somethings wrong with me.” You laughed before grabbing your bag.

You two were the only ones in the shop, which was not that normal for Saturday nights, but you figured it was a lull. You both ordered some ice cream and sat down at a table. Some people finally came in, and was surprised that no one noticed him, or if they did, didn’t ask for him.

“Wow, you must blend in with the public well?” You laughed before taking another bite of your ice cream. “Or, they don’t know who you are because I’m not blonde.” You made light of the situation.

“I mean, I”m not Seb, not the most popular.” He laughed. “But the blonde thing isn’t true…well..I guess we have to prove them wrong.” Brady said before shaking his head lightly.

You two finished your desserts and walked towards the parking garage that you parked at. He walked you to your car, and you talked for a few more minutes.

“Thanks. This was probably the best real actual first date I’ve been on.” You said, probably shouldn’t have admitted that out loud.

Brady’s face turned into a look of concern. Did you just blow it for yourself?

“Wait, you’ve never been on a date before?” He asked you, moving slightly closer to you.

“Not exactly.” You shrugged, before looking down. You hated how that experience really wasn’t in the cards for you.

He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your lips. He smelled like cologne, and tasted like the chocolate chip ice cream he had just eaten. You read about the spark that happened with a good kiss like that, but to find out it was real? Way better than the kisses you’ve had before.

“Sorry.. I don’t know if you’re good with that early…” He didn’t make that much sense.

“It was perfect.” You felt yourself blush. “I don’t mind early, I’m early for most things.” You spit out, the two of you were almost talking nonsense.

“Tuesday? I’ll take you on the best second date ever.”He winked before placing another kiss on your lips.

#the summer fic exchange 2k22 #brady skjei #brady skjei fic #Carolina Hurricanes #My writing

91 notes · View notes

unrequitedloveletter · 1 year

Text

VIGILANTE SHIT- Inej Ghafa

Okay!! First post for the new posting schedule as far as midnights fics go. I’m gonna be posting fics for this event every friday (though it might be every other friday--it depends on how much I can get done by the end of this week lol)

Fic type- this is mostly fluff

Warnings- mentions of knives and poisons

Inej grinned slightly as she heard your footsteps. She grabbed a rag that’d spent ten minutes soaking in hydrogen peroxide, grabbing a blood stained knife from the roll in front of her.

“You’re all right, love?” She asked, looking to where you’d stood, leaned against the doorway, bad shoulder purposefully not pressed against the wood. “That’s a rather stupid question, actually. Judging by the state you were in when Nina found you, the answer is clear.”

You gave her a grin. “Better than I was before,” you said, adding a shrug to the words. “Worse than I will be by tomorrow. Did you—”

“They’re dead,” she cut. “The lot of them. Couldn’t leave them alive, not after your screams were all I’d heard from a mile out from the Slat.”

She began to clean her knife of choice as she paused. “—How bad, Y/N?”

“Poisoned their knives with something unique to Druskelle. Kills otkazat’sya and Grisha both. If Kaz hadn’t grabbed the antidote in time, I would’ve been another body on the way to the Reapers Barge. He told me that he left my assailants in your care. I’m glad to know that you did as you have done.”

Inej shrugged. “They chose to hurt someone I love. They have nobody to blame on their deaths—on the fact that they will not find anything but unrest in their next lives, except for themselves.”

“Is it just in the eyes of your saints?”

“When it comes to you, I’ll do the killing on your behalf first. Pray to the saints and justify the deaths I cause later.”

“I love you, Wraith.”

Inej turned to you, pausing her work for a moment. “I love you too, Y/N. Even in the situations where you dance toe-to-toe with death.”

#inej ghafa #inej ghafa x reader #six of crows #shadow and bone

17 notes · View notes

lectergrahams · 2 years

Text

it’s just so frustrating how it seems like any time i go out and do something with my friends that’s like…a little more extra than normal (like if we go to a different city mainly and it’s a work day before 5) that he gets so salty with me?? like today it wasn’t THAT bad but he still was like ~must be nice to have flexible hours~ which is shit he says all the time, pissy at me bc i work a simple job from home on my own schedule. then i have to start a super hectic week tomorrow to next thursday where i’m gonna be driving between my parents house and my house every day to give connie & sunshine their medicines twice a day, AND i’m willing to still go to cincinnati saturday to go to an event with him that we’ve wanted to go to. but then he acted like i was being ridiculous to imply he could still come to springfield with me friday night?? and kept going on about how much driving he’d have to do that weekend and i’m like? hello lmao. then he constantly brings up how annoying it is that my parents live north of here while his live in between us?? i’m like i don’t get why this is something u bring up liek i can change?? then gets so overwhelmed with trying to figure out plans even tho we literally just figured them out. i laid out what we’ll do and he’s like WELL tomorrow you better figure it out. i’m like dude i literally just did? is that plan not good with you? if so then you need to say so??? and he wants to go on a trip together next month and i’ve told him like three times i can only take off one day but with how much i work, i can go on a 4 day trip and every time he’s like YOU SAID YOU CANT TAKE ANY TIME OFF

And i’m like. when did i say that lmao

#personal

0 notes

disturbedbydesign · 2 years

Text

Take Me Home - Part 1

PAIRING: Dennis Baker x Reader

SUMMARY: It’s been nearly a year since your ex-boyfriend dumped you and left you with a laundry list of insecurities, and you haven’t been able to really put yourself out there since. But when Dennis shows up at the adoption fair you’re running for your job at the animal shelter, there’s just something about him that makes you feel like you’re ready to try again.

WORD COUNT: 6K

WARNINGS (more to come): Body Issues (Dennis and Reader), References to Past Animal Abuse, Emotionally Abusive Exes (Dennis and Reader), Eventual Smut. 18+ only, no minors.

A/N: @littlelioncub43 you asked to be tagged in this mess so I’m sorry in advance for *gestures wildly* whatever this is.

Series Masterlist

Part One

It’s 11pm on Friday night, and you know you need to be up at dawn but you can’t sleep. Part of the problem is your roommate having very loud and enthusiastic sex with her latest Tinder date, but that’s not really the crux of it. Your mind is racing, thinking through all the possible things you could have screwed up or forgotten to do. The rational part of your brain knows that everything is all set for the adoption fair tomorrow. You’ve been planning it for months and your many extensive checklists (which have been a source of both amusement and irritation to your coworkers) have covered everything that needed to be done, but you still second-guess yourself. You’ve worked at the shelter for over two years now but this is the first event that you’ve been totally in charge of. You need it to go well—not just for you, but for the animals. You scratch your mutt Badger behind his right ear, in that spot that makes his back leg shake a little, and you ask him, “I’m gonna do good, right bud?” But he doesn’t have to answer—you know he’s your #1 fan.

The sun has only just started to brighten the sky when your alarm goes off, and you groan as you throw off the covers and shuffle to the bathroom. Badger is still sprawled out on your bed, and he gives you a look that says that not even the promise of breakfast could get him out of bed this early. He’s still lazing around by the time you’re dressed, but he’s got no choice—he needs to eat and go for his morning walk early today because you need to be at the park by 8am to set up.

As you put on his harness and leash, Badger looks at you with the big brown eyes of betrayal. You know he takes comfort in routine—that the first few years of his life were awful in ways that you will never fully know—and you do your best to keep his daily schedule pretty consistent. But today you’ve got to find forever homes for other dogs and cats just like him. If he knew, he’d understand.

When you and Badger return from your walk, your roommate Mal is brewing coffee in the kitchen.

“Made you a to-go cup,” she says, handing you your travel mug. “Good luck today!” You take it from her with a grateful smile as she scratches Badger behind the ears. “You need me to feed him? I know you’ve got to get going.”

“That would be great, yeah,” you reply, taking a sip of your coffee. It churns in your stomach, which is roiling with nerves. “I’m freaking out, Mal.”

“It’s gonna go great,” she says. “You’ve been working so hard. You always fucking do this.”

“Do what?”

“Assume the worst.”

You sigh because she’s right but you don’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing it. “So,” you say, “is your guest still here or did you kick him out?”

She laughs. “He’s gone. The dick was good, but it wasn’t stay-til-morning good.”

“I’d take anything at this point,” you tell her and she shakes her head.

“Don’t say that. You deserve only the highest quality dick, especially after dealing with your piece of shit ex for so long.”

You don’t want to talk about Brad and it rankles you a bit she’s brought him up, especially this fucking early when you’re already half losing it. It’s been almost a year since he broke up with you for another woman and you’re still not over it. Well, you’re over him, but not the many insecurities he left you with. You’d only dated for a few months, but in that time he’d managed to break you down and leave you a shattered version of yourself—not that you were the most confident girl to begin with, but over the course of your relationship, Brad had turned you against your own body and mind. He made you feel clingy and needy and crazy, made you feel like your body was nothing but a compilation of flaws to be tolerated. He made you feel like a charity case that no one else would ever want to take on.

You’d been on a few dates since the breakup, and one of the guys you’d actually really liked, but you never got past the third date. You’d allowed him up to your apartment for a nightcap and a makeout session, but even though you wanted more, you’d stopped him when he tried to undress you. You couldn’t bring yourself to be naked in front of him, to let him see all of you—all those pieces that Brad had convinced you were ugly. Your date was sweet about it, told you that he would take things as slow as you wanted, but you ghosted him after that.

You weren’t ready. You didn’t know how you ever could be, at least not without a bunch of plastic surgery you couldn’t afford. Every time you look in the mirror, all you can see are the things you want to fix—your nose, your breasts, your tummy, even the size of your labia (which you hadn’t even known was a thing until Brad came along and made you feel like even your pussy was hideous). You’d never had any complaints before, but now these imperfections are all you see, and the idea of exposing yourself to a new man for judgment is just too terrifying.

Of course, Mal doesn’t know any of this. You’re too embarrassed to tell her why you’ve stopped going on dates and haven’t been laid in forever. You think that, if you tell her, she’ll just say nice things to make you feel better about yourself (because that’s what friends do) but none of it will actually be true. Because you know what your body looks like—you don’t have perfect tits or a tight body or a pretty pussy. You’ll know she’ll feed you that “all bodies are beautiful” bullshit, but that’s easy for her to say because she’s fucking gorgeous and has men lining up to get a piece of her.

“I gotta go,” you say. “Can you take Badge for a walk around noon?”

“You got it,” she replies.

You blow Mal an air kiss as you freshen up Badger’s water and turn on the TV for him. For whatever reason, he’s obsessed with HGTV, so you throw on House Hunters International as he settles in on the couch.

“Wish me luck, Badge,” you say as you head out the door, but he’s fully engrossed in some annoying couple’s tour of an Italian villa.

As you head out, you wonder (as you often do), whether Badger’s inexplicable love of House Hunters is a not-so-subtle hint that your apartment is a piece of shit. He’d be right, of course, and you’re working hard to save money for a house so he can have his own yard. But you just can’t afford it yet—not on your shelter salary. Your parents have been bugging you to find a better-paying job but you just can’t leave. You absolutely love what you do. These days, it’s about the only thing that makes you feel good, so obviously you’ve turned it into your entire life. It’s often emotionally challenging and it’s always hard work, but it’s so rewarding. You feel good at the end of the day. You feel like you’ve made a difference. You’ll never find that kind of satisfaction working as a mid-level manager at some company that doesn’t give a fuck about you and contributes nothing of substance to the world.

You’re the first to arrive at the park, which is good because the problems start almost immediately. The table and chair delivery is late, and when it arrives you discover they forgot the tents, which are an absolute must so the animals can stay out of the sun. Two of your workers, Jack and Betsy—an adorable couple who volunteer at the shelter together and make you want to puke with how in love they are—call in sick with the flu. When the sound system shows up, it’s not working properly and you are hopeless when it comes to technology. Things are absolutely falling apart around you, but at least the decorations look cute and there’s some good buzz going on your socials. You were able to get a few of the local businesses on board to promote and support the fair: the pet store donated a ton of supplies, some of the local restaurants are sending food trucks, and you even managed to swing a partnership with one of the smaller pet insurance companies trying to build their social media presence (and they donated almost all the money you needed to cover the event costs).

All of that means that attendance should be good, and the more eyes you get on your little cuties, the better chance that they find their forever families today—and that’s all you care about, really. The fair starts at 10 and the animals start to arrive at 9:30. That, at least, goes smoothly. You and the volunteers get everyone set up in their pens with their adorable little pictures and bios displayed in front. Of course you want every single dog and cat here to find their family today, but there’s one dog in particular that you absolutely have to find a home for.

Jax is a 4-year-old German Shepherd mix who was brought in about 2 years ago in absolutely horrific shape. It was only your second week of work and you’d never seen anything like it. He was found by an older couple, dumped on the side of the road like trash. The poor thing was skin and bones and so weak he wouldn’t have been able to walk even if his front leg hadn’t been completely shattered by who knows what. The vet took one look at it and knew it had to be amputated immediately. But even through all of that—and the months of rehab that followed—Jax has always been the absolute sweetest, smiliest, goodest boy. You don’t understand how he hasn’t found a home yet, and you would have taken him in a heartbeat if Badger was good with other dogs.

As you approach Jax’s pen, he stands up on his back two legs and flashes you that big smile of his. You take a look at the sign with his picture and bio, which you made a point to create yourself, and everything is as it should be. You decide that today is the day—you will find this dog a home if it’s the last fucking thing you do.

“It’s gonna happen for you, Jax,” you tell him, tossing him a treat that he catches in his mouth. “I can feel it.”

The people start trickling in at 10:15 or so, and you’re initially discouraged by the turnout, but by noon it is absolute chaos. There are people everywhere, over 20 of the animals have applications in already, and more and more people keep coming. You briefly check the event hashtag on Instagram and see a fuckton of pictures from the event, and the insurance company, Purrs & Wags, has already started adding them to their story. You search the feed for any pictures of Jax but there aren’t any, and when you look over at his pen, he’s all alone—just smiling at everyone who walks past.

It breaks your heart. It really does. Everyone wants a puppy or some young adult with no major issues. But that’s not how it works—with people or pets: no one is perfect, everyone has flaws and baggage and scars (emotional or physical), but they deserve to be loved just the same. You’ve basically given up on finding it for yourself, but you won’t give up on it for Jax. It makes you so fucking angry sometimes, like right now when you have a thousand other things to focus on. You decide you need a break and you sneak off behind one of the food trucks to have a smoke.

The cigarette takes the edge off (and you’re going to quit soon, you swear), and when you return to the fair, you see a man kneeling down in front of Jax’s pen. You rush over, practically sprinting because you have to make sure that this man, whoever he is, knows exactly how special the dog in front of him is. Not many people will stop to greet a tripod like Jax, and you know before you meet him that this man has a good heart.

You stop about ten feet from Jax’s pen to compose yourself and then saunter over.

“I see you’ve met Jax,” you say to the man. “I think he likes you.”

The man stands up and turns around and he’s much taller and broader than he looked from a distance. He looks at you nervously from behind his glasses.

“Uh, y- yeah. I think I like him, too.”

You introduce yourself and reach out to shake the man’s hand and he wipes his palms on his khakis before taking your hand in his.

“I’m Dennis,” he says. “I, uh, I work for P&W.”

“Oh!” you exclaim, slightly disappointed that he’s probably just here as a company rep and not interested in adoption. You need to keep it professional though, keep it all off your face. “I had no idea they were sending someone! Thank you guys so much. We would never have been able to do this event without your help.”

“I didn’t have much to do with it really.” He stares at his feet as he replies. “I work in legal, but I wanted to check it out. I’ve been wanting a dog for a really long time, I just could never have one…”

He trails off and sticks his hands in his pockets. You know there’s a story there but it’s none of your business. All you care about is that he’s here now and he is, in fact, interested in your boy.

“Listen.” You lean in toward Dennis like you’re sharing a secret. “I shouldn’t say this, but Jax is my favorite. You won’t find a sweeter, more fun-loving dog in this place.”

Dennis shuffles his feet and turns his attention to Jax’s bio. “It says here that he’s been at the shelter for two years?”

“Yeah,” you say. “Most people can’t see past the leg, but he’s perfectly healthy and he gets around great. I can barely keep up with him, honestly. And he’s just the happiest, most affectionate little guy. I really hope we can find a home for him today.”

Dennis looks at a smiling Jax, and when he reaches inside the pen to pet his head, Jax gets up on his hind legs and does a little spin. Dennis smiles wide at Jax, and you see his face absolutely light up, but when he looks back at you, he’s all nerves again.

“So, uh, w- what exactly do I have to do? To adopt him, I mean.”

Your heart is practically bursting from your chest and you know the excitement is written all over your face. You want to jump up and down and squeal and wrap your arms around this man and give him the biggest hug ever, but you have to keep it professional.

“OK,” you say, trying to keep your cool, “well first I need to ask you a few questions so we can make sure you boys are a good fit for each other.” Dennis looks crestfallen but you don’t want to lose him now. “Don’t worry,” you assure him. “I’m sure that you’re gonna make a great doggy dad. It’s just a part of the process.”

Dennis nods as you give Jax a scratch on the head. “Be right back, buddy,” you say, and then you take Dennis over to one of the tables.

“So first thing, what’s your current living situation. House? Apartment? Trailer?”

“House,” he says. “Got a nice big backyard. All fenced in.”

“Perfect,” you say. “And how many people are in your household and what are their ages?”

You see Dennis look down at his hands and you can’t help but notice the slight indentation on his ring finger—the ghost of a wedding band perhaps?

“It’s, uh, it’s just me,” he says softly, and he gives you a sad smile.

“Well,” you reply, looking back at Jax smiling in his pen, “I don’t think it’ll be that way for long. So, what are your hours like at Purrs & Wags?”

“Usual 9 to 5,” he says, “but I can work from home sometimes, too.” His leg is bouncing and he’s got his hands clasped in his lap. “That’s what I’ll do when he first gets home… I mean, if I can bring him home. I don’t want to assume-”

“Dennis,” you interrupt, “relax. I still have to process your application and go through the motions, but I’m confident that Jax has found his forever home with you.”

“Yeah?” Dennis asks, and you can see his blue eyes start to water.

“Yeah. I’ve been waiting a long time to find someone special for Jax, and I always told myself I’d know them when I saw them, and when I saw the two of you together, I just knew.”

Dennis lets out a huge breath and takes his glasses off to wipe his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says. “God, I don’t know why I’m crying. You must think I’m such a loser.”

“I don’t think that at all,” you say, on the verge of tears yourself. “I think that you’re a kind person with a good heart and that you and Jax are gonna make each other really happy. That’s what I think.”

“Thank you,” he says, sniffling a bit. “So what next?”

“Well, usually I would need some references, but since you work for P&W I think it’s safe to say that you’re someone who cares about the well-being of animals and understands what pet ownership actually entails, especially the costs involved.”

“Oh, I have lots of money,” he says, and then he shakes his head and mutters to himself, “Jesus, Dennis. Get it together.” He looks back up at you. “That didn’t come out right. What I meant to say was-”

You laugh because he’s all red in the face and just so adorably flustered. For the first time, you’re really looking at him, and it occurs to you that Dennis is a very handsome man.

“I get it,” you say. “You’re in a good position financially to take care of Jax.”

“Yeah, that sounds much better. Let’s just pretend I said that.”

Dennis rubs his hands up and down the thighs of his khakis and you notice just how massive he is—his thighs and his arms are fucking huge and practically bursting through his clothes. He’s dressed like a total nerd with his pink polo shirt tucked into his pleated pants, but you can’t help but think to yourself this guy is ripped. His face isn’t hard on the eyes, either. Between his pretty blue eyes and those insanely long lashes and that plump, pink bottom lip he keeps biting…

No. Stop. You have a job to do. Operation Find Jax A Home is in progress and you can’t let the weirdly attractive man sitting in front of you throw you off. You see Dennis staring at you and realize he’s asked you a question you didn’t hear.

“Sorry,” you say. “I was… uh… I just got distracted for a second there! My bad. What did you say?”

“I asked when I’ll be able to take him home.”

“Oh! Well, barring any complications, you’ll be able to bring him home in a few days.”

“And do, uh, do you need to do a home visit? I heard some places do that.”

“We do sometimes, but that’s mostly if there are young children or other animals involved, or if the applicant lives somewhere that might not be dog-friendly. Why, do you want me to come over?”

You freeze as soon as the words leave your lips. Why the fuck did you just say that? What is wrong with you?

You laugh it off. “Sorry, I.. I have no idea why I just said that! Let’s pretend that I didn’t?”

Dennis smiles awkwardly at you. “I wouldn’t mind. I mean, if you need to check it out. For Jax.”

Now you can feel your cheeks heating up and you have absolutely no idea what to do. You can’t remember the last time you felt like this around a guy. You don’t do flirting, because what’s the point? It’s not like it can really go anywhere because you won’t let it. Still, you don’t know what it is about Dennis, but he’s got you all kinds of worked up, and for what? All this nice man wants is to adopt the world’s sweetest dog and here you are acting like a complete fool. But really, who gave him the right to walk around in a shirt that damn tight with his pecs busting out and biceps that look like they could crack walnuts.

Oh my GOD. Jax. Focus on Jax.

“So, um, I’m gonna get your paperwork started and the whole process going and we’ll be in touch in a few days. If you can just take this form and fill out all your info and the best times to contact you, then you’re all set.”

He takes the form from you and you try not to stare at the veins in his massive hand or how small the pen looks in it. You look over at Jax to distract yourself and when you see him intently watching you and Dennis, you give him two thumbs up.

“Here you go,” Dennis says, handing you the paperwork. “That’s my cell number. You can call anytime… or, I mean, anyone can call anytime. So if I have questions, do I just call the shelter or-”

The words come out before you can stop them. “You can call me if you want.”

“Uh, ok,” he says, and he sounds a bit taken aback. “Yeah. That would be great. I mean, because I know that you and Jax… you’re like his mom basically.”

You smile at him but you’re screaming inside because you have no idea who this person is that you are being right now. You don’t just give random guys your number. Dennis isn’t even hitting on you. He wants a dog not some woman who hasn’t been laid in so long she’s practically feral at the sight of a dude’s arm muscles. God, you’re so fucking pathetic and desperate. No wonder your ex left you.

You write down your cell number and hand it to him before you can think yourself out of it. The whole time your brain is screaming what the fuck are you doing you don’t even know this guy, but you do it anyway. He has a gentle, non-threatening way about him. Of course, that’s what they say about date rapists and serial killers, but you can’t think about that now.

You can see his hand shake a bit when he takes the slip of paper from you and it’s obvious that you make him nervous, but as he walks away you tell yourself that it was a perfectly normal and professional thing to do. Jax is your baby and you want to be involved every step of the way. It’s nothing more than that.

But you know that’s a lie, because over the course of the next few days, you can’t stop staring at your phone and wishing that Dennis would check in. You even think about texting him to update him on his application process even though there really isn’t anything to say—everything is progressing as it should, there’s no real reason why you’d need to contact him. But you can’t stop thinking about him and you don’t know why. He’s attractive, sure, but there’s something more there that you can’t put your finger on. You think that maybe it’s because he just looked lonely and so terribly sad. It’s a look you know well. You wear it every time you’re alone.

***

Dennis Googles you the second he gets home from the adoption fair. He only knows your first name, but the shelter website has your full name in your bio and a picture of you with Jax that makes his heart skip a beat. He fell for Jax first, but you were a close second. He’d never seen such a beautiful woman before, but it was your kindness and your spirit that had him gone for you almost immediately. He feels a bit like a stalker as he scrolls the shelter’s Instagram looking for pictures of you, but there are a lot of them and he just can’t stop. Each one is more adorable than the next. You’re that perfect combination of cute and sweet and sexy and Dennis is practically drooling like one of the shelter dogs just looking at you.

He finds your personal Insta but you’ve got it set to private. He almost sends you a follow request, and if he were a braver, more confident man, he would. But Dennis does not feel brave or confident; Dennis feels like the most worthless, pathetic loser than has ever walked the earth. He knows you’d never look twice at a guy like him, that you were only nice to him (and… was that flirty?) because you wanted to find Jax a good home. And that’s ok. Dennis was happy just to spend that half-hour in your presence. He knows you only gave him your number so that you can stay in the loop on Jax, and he shouldn’t use it unless he has to.

But he wants to. He wants to call you and ask how Jax is doing and how your day was and what you did and what you ate for breakfast and if you want to have dinner with him. He won’t do any of that, though. He’ll just sit on his couch watching ESPN and pining for a woman who probably laughed at him the second he walked away.

Dennis is slogging away at work on Wednesday afternoon when he gets a text notification. No one really texts Dennis anymore. He doesn’t have any friends—not since the divorce—so his heart soars thinking it might be you with a Jax update. That bubble is burst instantly when he sees that he’s got a message from his ex-wife. These days she only texts him when she needs something (or occasionally when she’s drunk and feeling cruel). It’s too early in the day for her to be drinking, so he assumes (correctly) that it’s the former.

I need you to come fix the dishwasher.

That’s it—no “please” or “sorry to bother you,” just a demand. He’s not surprised, but he knows he’s going to do whatever she says because he always does. It’s not because he still has feelings for her, though; it’s because it feels good to be needed, even if it’s just for manual labor. He texts back immediately.

Ok. I can come over after work tonight.

I have a date tonight. Come in the morning.

Dennis agrees because it’s pointless not to and he doesn’t want to get sucked into an argument with her. He hates confrontation; he just wants to be nice to people and have them be nice back, but that’s not how the world works. The world is full of cruel people who hurt people because they think it’s fun. Of course his ex couldn’t resist telling him she has a date. Just like she couldn’t resist telling him how many guys she fucked while they were still married because of how terrible he is in bed and how unsatisfied he left her. What even is a “bad penis”? Dennis still doesn’t know, but apparently he has one.

He’s been too terrified to put himself out there again since his wife left him. The fear of rejection and the deep insecurity about his sexual prowess (or lack thereof) is just too much for him to overcome. His therapist says that it will take time to build his confidence back up, but Dennis never had any confidence to begin with. He can’t remember the last time he felt good about himself. He works out for his health, but he doesn’t feel good about his body—how could he when there’s one thing (the most important thing, some would argue) that he can’t fix?

He sighs and pulls up your number, and it’s not even about you in this moment—not really. Dennis is just lonely and sad and he wants to hang out with his (hopefully) soon-to-be dog. With Jax, there’s no judgment. He won’t look at Dennis and think what a pathetic loser this guy is, what a joke. Dennis finds something like inspiration in Jax because he could easily have come out from his trauma afraid of the world and ready to lash out at any moment; he could have let it turn him nasty, but he didn’t. He just let it roll off his back and stayed the happy gentle boy he was born to be. Dennis doesn’t look at Jax and see a broken dog; he sees a creature far stronger than he is. He needs some of that strength today, and Dennis’s palms start to sweat as he sends you a text.

Hey, this is Dennis from the adoption fair. I’m not sure if this is allowed and if not that’s totally fine but I was wondering if I could stop by the shelter today and see Jax, maybe take him for a walk? If not I understand.

Dennis tries to return his focus to work but really he’s just waiting and hoping to hear back from you. It’s two torturous hours before he hears that longed-for ding.

Hi Dennis! So sorry. I was in a staff meeting and just got your text. You can absolutely come by and take Jax for a walk! He would love that. When were you thinking?

Dennis barely finishes reading before responding.

You just tell me when and I’ll make it work.

How about 5:30?

I’ll be there.

Great! See you soon :)

Dennis spends an inordinate amount of time staring at the smiley face at the end of your text, thinking of your actual smile and how he gets to see it in a few short hours. The workday has never felt longer and he cuts out a bit early to head over to the shelter.

When he walks in, he sees a woman at the front desk who is not you talking to a man holding the world’s smallest Chihuahua. They are so wrapped up in each other that they don’t notice him standing there. Dennis is used to that, though—being invisible. He clears his throat and the woman turns to him.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! How can I help you?”

“My name is Dennis Baker and I’m here to see-”

“Jax! Oh, you’re Jax’s Dennis! We’re all so excited for Jaxy to get to his forever home. But wait, you’re not taking him home today, right? Because-”

“He’s just here for a visit,” you say, popping around the corner and smiling at him. “Gotcha day is on Saturday.” You turn to him. “I was going to text you you’ve been approved but I figured since you were coming by, I’d tell you in person.”

“That’s wonderful news,” Dennis says, and he feels his throat tighten.

He tells himself goddammit Dennis do not fucking cry in front of her again and he manages to keep it together, focusing instead on how pretty you look. He’s only ever seen you in your work clothes—a black shelter t-shirt and jeans—but you manage to make it look like you’ve just waltzed off a red carpet somewhere. He finds himself wondering what you’d wear for a date but he stops just short of thinking about what you’d look like in nothing at all.

He hears you say, “Dennis?” and he snaps back to the present.

“Sorry,” he says, “I was just... I’m just happy.”

“We are too. So, you wanna take your boy for a walk?”

“I’d love to,” he replies, and the question just comes out. “Are you gonna come?”

You smile at him and it’s like sunshine after a rain. “Of course. He’s my boy, too.”

Dennis paces as he waits for you outside. He knows he’s going to have to make conversation with you and there are so many things he wants to know about Jax, but he also wants to know about you. For example, are you single and willing to go out on a pity date with a pathetic anxious loser? He knows he’s not going to ask you out, but he lets himself think about how he would do it and the things he would say if he were a different type of man—one with the balls to just go for what he wants.

Your sweet voice rings out. “Here he is!”

Jax practically drags you out the door as he runs toward Dennis and jumps up on him. Dennis catches his front paw in one hand and pets his head with the other.

“Hey Jax! Hey buddy! You wanna go for a walk?”

Jax barks his approval and Dennis hears you laughing.

“That’s a big ol’ yes,” you say. “He really does love you, Dennis. It’s like he already knows you’re his dad.”

“I can’t wait to get him home. I’m so happy this worked out.”

“Me too. You have no idea how much. We’ve been waiting for you for two years. Where the hell have you been hiding?”

“Well,” Dennis says, focusing on Jax’s smiling face because looking at you is like staring directly into the sun, “my wife… shit, no, my ex-wife… she doesn’t like dogs so I could never have one. We just got divorced a few months ago so… yeah… here I am.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you say, but then you drop the social niceties. “Actually, fuck that, no I’m not. If that’s what got you here, then it was supposed to happen.” Dennis watches out of the corner of his eye as you shake your head, and when he finally looks at you, you’re slightly apologetic. “I’m sorry, that was… aggressive. But who doesn’t like dogs? You’re better off without her.”

Dennis laughs and looks back to Jax, lifting his back leg to piss on a tree he’s deemed acceptable. “I like your logic,” he tells you. “It’s a much better approach than me feeling sorry for myself all the time.”

You ask him, “Are you dating?” and Dennis is a bit shocked, not by the question itself but because he isn’t used to bluntness that isn’t laced with cruelty. You backtrack before he has a chance to answer. “Wow, that is totally none of my business! I should shut up now.”

“I’m not dating. I… uh… wouldn’t even know where to start with that.”

“Well, Jax is a total chick magnet,” you say. “I mean look at that face. One trip to the park and you’ll be swimming in ladies.”

Dennis lets out a nervous chuckle. “I seriously doubt that.”

“Why?” you ask. “You’re an attractive guy. I’m sure you won’t have any trouble getting back out there.”

Dennis shoves his hands in the pockets of his khakis and smiles at you but he can tell it looks like more of a grimace. He’s uncomfortable with you now, because you’re just saying that to be nice. You must be. You couldn’t possibly be attracted to him or interested in him beyond the adoption process. You’re way the fuck out of his league, and even if you weren’t, he knows he’d only disappoint you in the end. It’s cruel of you, he thinks, to tease him like this. Maybe you’re not the nice sweet girl he thought you were.

But then you ask him “Do you want to get a coffee or something?” and your tentative voice and the hopeful look in your eye tells him that maybe you’re actually for real. “There’s a place about two blocks up that’s super dog-friendly and…”

“I’d love to.”

PART TWO >>>

#dennis baker x reader #dennis baker x you #dennis baker fanfiction #dennis baker #chris evans #chris evans characters #take me home series

251 notes · View notes

just-come-baek · 3 years

Text

body rhythm

Pairing: Taeyong x reader | mentions of Seulgi x Irene | mentions of Johnny x almost everybody

Themes: smut | fluff | dance!au

Word count: 14.8k

Summary: Taeyong and Seulgi participate in a nationwide dance competition. However, due to unfortunate scheduling, she has to drop out of it, suggesting you, out of all people, fill in. Taeyong isn't pleased with how things manage to fall out of place, but he is in no position to be whiny about it. For him, it's either learn to work with you or lose yet another time to his arch-enemy.

A/N it's my entry for song association event, I hope you like it, and also don't forget to check out other entries ^^ they must be all out by now lol

“Are you ready?” Johnny inquired as he set his fourth coffee of the day on his desk and plopped onto the swivel chair in a cubicle next to mine. It was a really long day at work, and we both had trouble sitting through the end of it. Heaving a deep sigh, I looked at the pile of documents that required my attention, groaning before I sprawled across my workspace.

“I thought it’s canceled tonight,” I spoke as I looked at my wristwatch, wincing when I realized there was still one more hour until Johnny and I could finally clock out.

A few months ago, our lovely firm, instead of giving us a well-deserved raise, had decided to provide us with a variety of extra activities. Though I’d rather get some monetary benefits, together with Johnny, we chose dance classes. Our company was paying for it, so we might’ve as well attended.

Ever since then, every Thursday, we would go to a dance class to sweat out all of the pent-up frustration. I didn’t have plenty of expectations, still bitter after the company’s decision, but the dance class turned out amazing. Seulgi was our teacher, and although she was a bit demanding, she was patient enough to teach us some sick moves. If that didn’t scream talent™, I had no idea what did.

“Well… last week, she said she might be absent today, but I got a text from school that someone will fill in,” Johnny spoke matter-of-factly. I sighed, checking my phone, reading the same text message from the studio. I really didn’t have energy for dance classes, but there was no way Johnny would let me skip.

“Do you want to grab a drink after? I think I need one, or a few,” I proposed as I sat back in my chair, trying to let my eyes rest from the computer’s screen.

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Johnny asked rhetorically, smiling at me as if I just read his mind. It was almost Friday at this point, and we deserved a little treat.

Though it felt like an eternity, the clock finally struck 5 p.m., letting us leave our claustrophobic cubicles. Tomorrow we would come back for another dose of torture, but right now, we were free. Only for a few hours, though.

Quickly, I returned home to get my gym bag. Thankfully, I lived within walking distance from both – my office and the dance studio, so it wasn’t as troublesome to commute as it was for Johnny, who got stuck in traffic almost every day.

A few minutes before the dance class, I was already changed into my gym attire, waiting for Johnny. Though no one was texting me, I stared at my phone, furiously typing away. Moon Taeil, also known as my secret crush, was leaning against the wall on the other side of the corridor, and I tried every single trick my mind could come up with not to look desperate.

“At this point, he must think you hate him,” Johnny commented as he conjured in front of me out of nowhere. “You should hit on him instead of trying to bolt every time he approaches you,” he added, and I rolled my eyes at his yet another one shitty advice.

“Can you remind me why I don’t take dating advice from you?”

“Why are you attacking me? I just wanted to help. There’s no need to get so aggressive,” Johnny defended his case, not really answering my question. Johnny was a self-proclaimed love expert, but to me, he was more of a pathological playboy. Either way, he seemed to understand the secrets of flirtation to pick up girls whenever he set his mind to it.

“I am just trying not to be obvious,” I commented, stealing a glance at Taeil. It was a silly crush, and though Johnny encouraged me to go for it, I never decided to act on my feelings. Taeil probably didn’t feel this way about me, so remaining idle actually saved me embarrassment after an inevitable rejection.

“Speaking of which, I figured out why Seulgi is so resistant to my charms,” Johnny announced proudly, and I raised my eyebrow, waiting for the big reveal. Everybody in our group knew that Johnny was attracted to Seulgi, but every time he tried to approach her, she would brush him off.

“By figured out, you mean you stalked her, right?” I commented when Johnny handed me his phone, showing me Seulgi’s profile. According to what Johnny dug out in social media, Seulgi was getting married to Irene – her girlfriend of five years. “Huh,” I mused as I gave him back his phone, trying not to laugh at him. Seulgi was already madly in love with someone else, no wonder she could resist his charm.

“Call it whatever you want,” Johnny started, putting his phone away. “Just don’t hold me down when FBI finally recruits me for my impeccable detective skills,” he argued, and I laughed as I imagined him leaving our lovely company. That would be a shame; I couldn’t imagine anyone else sitting in the cubicle next to mine.

“The room should be open,” someone hollered, mentioning for us to open the doors and get inside. I had seen him a few times around the school, so I deduced he must’ve been our substitute teacher today.

Once everybody took their spot on the dance floor, the man cleared his throat. “Hello everybody, my name is Taeyong. Together with Seulgi, we run this school, and I hope we will have a lot of fun today with new choreography,” he announced politely with a practiced professionalism. Perhaps Taeyong didn’t seem as cool as Seulgi, but we had to give him a chance to prove us wrong.

Taeyong was intimidating. I wouldn’t want to be left alone with him. When he showed us a few moves, he was immensely focused on delivering one hundred percent. It was impressive and admirable, but at the same, Taeyong gave off a scary fierce aura. Though he was a great dancer and teacher, Seulgi was just better.

“I think I have a heart attack,” I panted, gasping for air. The new choreography required lots of jumping, and I didn’t expect so much cardio today. I wasn’t out of shape; however, after dancing to Taeyong’s choreography, I had some doubts.

“We should’ve skipped,” Johnny commented, bending over with his palms on his knees, supporting his huge body. Taeyong’s dance routine was too much for us, and we weren’t the only people struggling to breathe. Thankfully, next week Seulgi would be back.

***

“You’re not gonna believe this,” Johnny announced, craning his neck to look inside my cubicle. Heaving a sigh, I put my pen down, giving him my full attention.

This better be good.

“What is it? Who are you stalking this time?” I inquired, giving him the attitude. Johnny was spending too much time on his phone during working hours, but I couldn’t really frown upon it because I often caught myself doing the same thing.

“First of all, I thought we agreed to call it researching, not stalking,” Johnny clarified, and I rolled my eyes. “And second of all, it’s Seulgi. She and the other guy from the dance studio qualified for some dance competition. Check this out,” Johnny explained, handing me his phone.

Seulgi and Taeyong rocked the stage. Though I had nothing to compare their performance to, they just oozed charisma, uniqueness, nerve, and talent. Without any shred of doubt, they would make it to the grand finale.

“Wow,” I mused, not sure how to appropriately respond. I was happy for their success; after all, their performance was broadcasted during prime time on national television. At this point, Seulgi and Taeyong were celebrities.

“I can’t wait for today’s class,” Johnny added in excitement, hiding his phone away inside the pocket of his jacket. “I have to congratulate her.”

“Them. You have to congratulate them,” I corrected Johnny as he seemed to forget about Seulgi’s dance partner. It wasn’t a solo competition, so both Seulgi and Taeyong deserved praise. “And as if you’ve forgotten, Seulgi is not and will never be interested in you. You gotta let this one go, man,” I added, hoping Johnny would stop his relentless flirting with Seulgi. Though it was funny at the beginning, it was evident Seulgi would appreciate it if he stopped.

“I am all over her. Trust me,” Johnny reassured me, and I let out a shallow sigh, wanting to believe him. “Do you know Wendy from the HR department? I think I’m gonna ask her out. I am all over Seulgi,” he added, and it actually convinced me. Although Johnny didn’t seek anything serious at this point in his life, and when something didn’t go according to his plan, he would shake it off and forget all about it.

“Ok, I believe you,” I said, giving him a genuine smile. “Oh, and I was thinking… how about some beer and chicken after dance classes today? I’ve been craving them the whole day,” I offered, and Johnny enthusiastically nodded. It did sound like a solid plan.

Thankfully, this week Seulgi was back, and everybody appreciated it. Taeyong was a great teacher, but we were a group of beginners, and it was difficult for us to follow his routine. We just weren’t ready for such complex choreography.

Everybody had so much fun today. At first, we practiced some old routines, working on synchronization. Later on, Seulgi taught us a few new moves, which I recognized from her television performance. Admittedly, they weren’t as difficult as they looked. Maybe it was a little bold of me, but I was thinking I was doing a pretty good job today.

At the very end of the class, Johnny delivered a dramatic congratulatory speech, making people laugh out of utter cringe. It was a nice gesture, and Seulgi’s embarrassment was adorable. She would cover her blushed cheeks and turn around, hoping the ground could swallow her up. In all honesty, it seemed to be the only way to shut up Johnny.

Just when we were about to be dismissed, I heard someone calling my name. Surprisingly, it was Seulgi. She must’ve wanted to discuss something with me. Damn it, was she going to scold me for not improving? Or was it because I sat half of the song out? I just needed a short break; I had no idea it would get me in trouble.

“I am sorry,” I apologized even though I wasn’t sure what for yet. Seulgi would enlighten me in a second, so I cleared my throat to apologize to her once again. However, when she giggled instead of yelling at me, I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.

“I’ll wait for you outside,” Johnny hollered before he strolled out of the practice room.

“Am I in trouble?” I asked, and Seulgi smiled, shaking her head.

Great, it was a relief.

“Actually, I may sound crazy to you,” she started, fidgeting a little. It was strange, Seulgi was a strong and confident woman, but right now, she seemed rather bashful. “Would you like to participate in a dance competition?”

Her question took me aback.

“What?” I asked, trying to wrap my head around the topic.

“Let me explain,” she offered, and I reluctantly nodded.

By the look on her face, I could tell it wasn’t going to be a quick chit-chat. Seulgi had a lot of things to explain, so we decided to sit on the floor before she began her speech.

Patiently, I listened to everything she wanted to tell me.

Seulgi and Taeyong wanted to participate in a dance competition ever since they had decided to open up a dance school together. Last week they really thought they were going to achieve their dream. Unfortunately, as soon as they qualified and received the schedule, complications started to follow.

Maybe it was a little bit overconfident of them to think they’d make it to the finals, but it still made them anxious. Regardless of their talent, they wouldn’t be able to perform in the grand finale. Apparently, on the very same day, Seulgi was getting married.

At first, I wanted to interject that they could reschedule, but Seulgi beat me to it.

“It would be the third time we reschedule it, and I just can’t let that happen. I don’t want Irene to think I prioritize dancing over her. She means the world to me, and I’d quit a thousand times to get married to her,” Seulgi confessed, and I tried my best to contain my feels. There was something raw and pure about Seulgi’s love, and it moved me.

Seulgi’s proposition was genius in its simplicity. Together with Taeyong, she would perform, climbing up the rankings. And if by any chance, they would make it to the final round; she wanted me to fill in. Given I had been dancing at their studio for about four months I couldn’t comprehend why she chose me.

I was a rookie, for crying out loud!

Finding a substitute dancer made a lot of sense, actually. Instead of dropping out, they could find a replacement. This way, Taeyong could still make his dream come true. And next year, together with Seulgi, they could try to defend the title.

However, once again, Seulgi read my mind and answered my question before I voiced my doubts. She must’ve really thought this through before approaching me. It seemed she had rehearsed all possible inquires and came up with perfect answers.

“All of our dancer friends either compete against us or failed during qualifications,” she declared, and I hummed in response. “Unfortunately, people who already attempted joining can’t fill in for other dancers.”

“That sucks,” I commented, and Seulgi dryly chuckled.

“I think you would be a perfect fit,” she started, and I held my breath, wanting to hear what made her think I’d be able to rise to the challenge. “Everybody can memorize moves, but you have a natural passion for dancing. I can see it in class. Maybe you can’t see it yet because dancing is a hobby to you more than anything else, but I can tell you have the it™ factor.”

I was speechless. Seulgi, the dance prodigy, was praising my dancing skills. I couldn’t believe my ears. What kind of self-indulgent dream was it? Why couldn’t I dream like a normal person? I had tendency to toot my own horn sometimes, but it was just too much.

“I bet with proper training, you and Taeyong could win.”

“Let me think about it, okay?”

“Sure, of course! No pressure!” Seulgi replied enthusiastically, giving me enough space to clear my mind and think about it.

“See you next week.” I waved at her, exiting the dance room. Absentmindedly, I changed out of the gym clothes and walked out of the building, almost walking past Johnny.

“Hey, what did Seulgi want?” Johnny asked, grabbing my wrist, pulling me out of trance.

“She wants me to dance in her place if she and Taeyong ever make it to the finals.”

“What?!”

***

At first, I was hesitant about this whole thing. I wasn’t a professional dancer, and I really didn’t want to contribute to them losing the competition. However, Seulgi really made a point that they would have to drop out anyway, so in some twisted way, my participation gave them a slimmer of hope for victory.

Once I explained everything to Johnny, he really insisted I should help them out, spitting nonsense about fame and recognition and how I couldn’t doubt myself and just go with the flow. Opportunities like this rarely occurred, and I ought to welcome them with excitement.

So I did.

Every Saturday and Sunday, I dropped by the dance studio for practice. Taeyong still intimidated me, but I could deal with it. Seulgi was always around me to nag him whenever he demanded too much from me. They balanced each other very well, and it was fun working with them. Even though each practice left me with sore muscled, I was still excited. It was tangible proof I was improving.

Seulgi and Taeyong smoothly went through the contest, winning each battle with ease, slowly climbing in the ranking. There was still plenty of work until the grand finale, but everything looked they were to make it to the very top.

Unfortunately, the closer to the D-day, the less time Seulgi had to help us during practice. With her wedding coming up, she had a lot of preparations to deal with. As a result, Taeyong and I had to practice the dance routine on our own.

“No, you’re doing it all wrong,” Taeyong yelled in irritation when for the nth time, I turned to my right instead of my left. “Do it again; five, six, seven, eight,” he added, playing the song from the very beginning.

To say I was frustrated was an understatement of the century. I was aware that Taeyong really wanted to win the competition, but he didn’t have to be a dick about it. With no Seulgi to supervise him, he was unbearable.

“I think I need a break,” I declared once I turned to the wrong side again before Taeyong managed to scold me for it. Even though he shouted something again, I ignored it. With a deep sigh, I walked over to my gym bag to get my water bottle.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Taeyong asked, staring down at me with his arms folded across his chest, his demeanor dominant. His eyes were drilling holes in my head, his jaw was tightened – it was evident I was driving him up the wall. It was just a matter of seconds before Taeyong would snap, lashing out at me.

“I am taking a break,” I answered quickly, ignoring his angry stare. I was at my limit. If Taeyong didn’t back off, it would be the end of the practice for today. One more mean word and I’d storm out of the studio. I was here voluntarily. I was doing him a favor, and I didn’t deserve this type of treatment.

“Is it a joke to you?” Taeyong carried on, and I rolled my eyes. Of course, it wasn’t a joke to me. But at the same time, I was sick and tired of his shenanigans. I wanted him to win, but not when my mental health was on the line. He was pissing me off, and I wouldn’t let him walk all over me. “I thought you decided to help us out, but you’re not trying at all.”

He did not just say that.

“What?” I rhetorically asked, standing up, poking his chest with my forefinger. “I am trying my best here. You’re the one who makes it impossible to have fun dancing. You’re making it a chore, sucking all the fun out it.”

“Then tell me what I should do for you to finally make some progress? We’ve been stuck at this part for two weeks, and you still haven’t learned how to turn right!”

“Then go ahead and find someone else who can put up with your shit. I’m out,” I spoke, bending down to pick up my stuff, ready to leave the studio. Unfortunately, before I managed to exit the practice room, the doors opened, and Seulgi walked in with a confused expression on her face.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” She asked in worry, trying to put two and two together. It wouldn’t be the first time Taeyong and I argued, but it seemed to be the most intense one so far. It didn’t sit right with her. “Please don’t tell me you fought again.”

Briefly, I summarized what happened, and Seulgi looked down at Taeyong disapprovingly. I was glad Seulgi took my side; after all, she knew Taeyong could be too demanding.

“I am a dancer, but why does it feel I am a couple counselor? You two really have to learn how to work together when I’m not around,” she scolded us, making her point. If this whole arrangement was to work out, we both needed to establish some ground rules and learn how to put our differences aside. “I have an idea.”

Oh, no.

There was something mischievous in her tone, and I didn’t particularly like it.

“Let’s finish for today,” she proposed, and I smiled, thinking it was a great idea. Taeyong and I needed some time to chill, and calling it a day seemed like an appropriate way to do it. “Let’s go out clubbing instead!” Seulgi added cheerfully, clapping her hands in excitement.

“What?” Taeyong and I asked in unison, a bit surprised by Seulgi’s statement.

“That’s my prescription for the two of you,” she started, and I rolled my eyes. Taeyong and I didn’t get along as well as she wished for us to, but it wasn’t that bad. We didn’t need to bond over a few drinks in a crowded club. We would do just fine if Taeyong learned to go easy on me. “I believe we all can benefit from clubbing.”

“How come?”

“First of all, it will remind Taeyong that dancing is about fun, not overworking oneself,” Seulgi spoke, and I hummed, agreeing with her. “Second of all, it’ll give you a chance to loosen up. Your moves are still a bit stiff during intimate parts of the choreography,” she added, and Taeyong nodded in agreement. “And I really need something to drink because wedding planning is stressful as fuck.”

Not even thirty minutes later, we were inside the club.

“It’s a very sensual song. And you two really have to work hard to convey emotions through your dance,” Seulgi started as she sipped her tropical cocktail. “You must feel comfortable around each other and just ooze longing and sexual attraction,” she added, and I almost choked on my drink.

Performing with Taeyong was going to be more difficult than I had anticipated. When Seulgi and Taeyong showed me the choreography, I was amazed. Absolutely blown away. The way their bodies moved in synchronization left me speechless, but at the same time, I was a little bit nervous because I didn’t see myself living up to their level.

I wouldn’t consider myself particularly sexy. It made me feel awkward when I thought how seductive the dance routine actually was. I wasn’t sure I could pull this off, but Taeyong still had a lot of time to teach me.

“Take her to the dance floor,” Seulgi elbowed Taeyong, almost spilling his drink. Unenthusiastically, Taeyong looked at me before standing up and extending his arm.

Drunken people were jumping around us to the rhythm, and I awkwardly swayed from side to side, staring at Taeyong. With godlike precision, he moved, getting lost in the music. One could tell straight away Taeyong was a professional dancer.

Upon noticing how stiff I was, Taeyong shook his head, yanking me against his lean body. “How about you take a five-minute break to get that stick out of your ass? You look like you have no joints,” he yelled into my ear, his breath tickling my sensitive skin.

“I’ve had too little alcohol,” I replied, but Taeyong wasn’t having it.

“When we perform on the stage, will you need alcohol to let loose too?” Taeyong challenged with a playful smirk, and I rolled my eyes, too prideful to admit he was right. I couldn’t participate in that competition drunk. We wouldn’t win if I wasn’t able to come out of my shell and show everybody I had a sensual bone in my body.

“No,” I yelled into Taeyong’s ear. “How do I let loose?” I asked, hoping to hear some words of wisdom from him.

“Mirror what I’m doing,” Taeyong guided, and I nodded, focused on my new task. I could do that. I had been mirroring Seulgi’s movements during our classes, and I was pretty good at doing it. I could copy Taeyong’s moves.

At first, Taeyong danced a few classic moves we usually did during our warm-up routine. It was easy, and I think I nailed it. Later, he wiggled his upper body, feeling the rhythm. With envy, I observed how his body executed every single move, owning it. I wish I was half as good as Taeyong. Next to him, I probably looked like a crippled kid.

Upon noticing my struggle, Taeyong began jumping around, throwing his hands in the air. He looked ridiculous, but I remained focused on my task, dancing as if I was his shadow. Our bizarre moves earned some attention from other people, but our eyes were trained on each other, slowly getting lost in our own bubble.

I was sober, and I was on my way to owning the dance floor. I couldn’t believe it was happening. Maybe Taeyong’s charisma overshadowed my poor attempts of showcasing mine; however, I was sure I made a big step in the right direction. Slowly, I was improving.

“How about we spice it up a little bit?” Taeyong shouted into my ear, and I cocked up my eyebrow, thinking what he meant by that. “Don’t be shy,” he added, yanking me against his body. Taeyong was so close I could feel his legs rub against mine. “Come on, sweetheart. Touch me, tease me, feel me up,” Taeyong snickered, getting on my nerves. Not only Taeyong was smug for no reason, but he also quoted the song, which I was slowly growing to hate.

Taeyong must’ve assumed I’d back out. Surely, he didn’t expect me to follow his instructions and actually run my hands across his chest, shoulders, and back while simultaneously swaying my hips, earning approving stares from impressed men on the dance floor. At first, he was surprised he talked me into it, but a second later, he smirked, resting his palms on my sides, slowly exploring the valley of my butt.

I had no idea I had it in me, but Taeyong helped me discover it. We were basically grinding against each other, and it somehow didn’t feel awkward at all. We were just two people having fun.

“I’m sorry I was so harsh on you,” Taeyong apologized, shouting in my ear. “I’m just stressful all the time, and I think I may sometimes take it out on you,” he added, and I looked at his face, which was dangerously close to mine.

“It’s understandable,” I replied as I wrapped my arms around Taeyong’s neck, finding it much more comfortable. Now with our bodies pressed together, it was easier to have a conversation. “I know how much you want to win this competition. I’ll try harder,” I promised, and Taeyong released a relieved chuckle.

Who would’ve thought an adult conversation would work better than shouting at each other?

“Thank you,” Taeyong spoke genuinely, and I pulled away, staring at his face. His eyes were trained on mine. No matter how many hours we had spent at the dance studio, his gaze still intimidated me sometimes.

“Ekhm, I need a break,” I said in a desperate need to break eye contact with him. The dance floor was crowded, and it was making me dizzy. I was getting dangerously hot, and it seemed like heaven to get back to our booth and finish our drinks.

“Of course, you need a break,” Taeyong teased, sending me a lopsided smirk. “It’s okay, though. We still have plenty of time to work on your stamina,” he added as he grabbed my hand, leading me out of the crowd. Carefully, we zigzagged around drunken people, trying to make it safely to Seulgi.

Unfortunately, by the bar counter, someone walked into Taeyong, almost knocking him down.

“I’m very sorry,” a man shouted, but I could sense the words weren’t genuine.

“Doyoung,” Taeyong spoke, gritting his teeth, staring at the other man. Taeyong’s grip tightened around my hand. I figured he didn’t particularly like Doyoung.

“Taeyong,” Doyoung sighed, checking Taeyong out from head to toe before his gaze shifted to me. There was something spiteful about his lingering eyes, but I couldn’t pinpoint it. For sure, there was some bad blood between two men, and I suddenly felt an urge to know more. Inquisitiveness got the best of me.

Taeyong and Doyoung kept glaring at each other almost as if it was a competition. The tension was so intense one could cut it with a knife. I cleared my throat in a poor attempt to break their stare contest, but they didn’t even acknowledge my presence.

“I saw your last performance,” Doyoung finally spoke, scoffing. “You’re getting out of it, and here I expected to kick your ass in the finale. I wouldn’t be surprised if you and your partner got eliminated next week.”

I thought I had seen Taeyong furious, but right now, I was proven wrong. The way he looked at me whenever I was a handful during our practice was nothing compared to the way he glared at Doyoung. Taeyong was scary, and I decided to not get on his wrong side ever again.

“I’d gladly kick your ass here, but I’d rather wait for the finale. You know what people say about prolonged gratification,” Taeyong talked back, and I gasped, trying to comprehend what I just heard. Taeyong was getting cocky, and it made me nervous. I was already stressed about the possibility of performing, and he just added more pressure on my shoulders.

“We’ll see about that,” Doyoung replied, focusing his scrutinizing gaze on me. “But I have to say I kinda look forward to seeing you cry again. The way I beat you the last time was spectacular.”

“Let’s go, Taeyong. Don’t waste your breath on him. He’s not worth it,” I exclaimed, pulling Taeyong’s hand, reminding him I was there the whole time. I couldn’t listen to Doyoung talk trash about Taeyong. If Taeyong wasn’t going to walk away by himself, I had to intervene and pull him aside. Doyoung was provoking him.

“And who is that?” Doyoung asked in a mocking tone, displeased by the way I looked at him. Though I didn’t know the back story, I took Taeyong’s side. At least, Taeyong didn’t try to humiliate his rival, while Doyoung had already tried a few tricks to tick Taeyong off.

“You’re right,” Taeyong said, looking at me. It was evident he was holding himself back, trying his best not to take the bait. “Let’s go,” he added, pulling me away from Doyoung.

“Who was that?” I asked as we approached our booth. Unfortunately, I didn’t get my response. Upon arrival, we noticed that Seulgi was sprawled on the table, giggling to herself.

“Is she always like this?” I inquired, concerned about how drunk Seulgi got in such a short amount of time. We were gone for thirty minutes tops, and she was barely conscious after drinking her and our drinks.

“Aww… there you are… my dear friends,” she cooed cutely, trying to attack Taeyong with cuddles. She was adorable, but it was kind of irresponsible to drink by herself when we were on the dance floor. Thankfully, nothing happened. We returned just in time to collect her and escort her home.

“I can’t believe my plan worked,” Seulgi grinned, pointing her finger at Taeyong. “You no longer have a stick up your ass,” she exclaimed at Taeyong, too drunk to realize she should be talking to me. “And look at you! You were having fun!” Seulgi yelled, extending her arms to hug me. “I am so proud of you!”

“I should take her home,” Taeyong reasoned, considering it the safest option. He could call an Uber for Seulgi or just phone her fiancée to pick her up but bringing her home himself seemed to be the most rational solution. “Will you be alright by yourself?” He inquired, and I nodded right away. It was sweet of him to look after me too. Thankfully, I barely touched my cocktail; I could get home safely on my own.

“Don’t worry about me,” I replied casually, sending him a reassuring smile. “Just make sure Seulgi makes it home safe,” I added, warming up at the way Taeyong hauled up Seulgi, carefully leading her out of the club. It made me wonder if Johnny did the same to me. Probably. He wouldn’t be that gentle, though. If anything, he’d throw me over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. Or just drag me out like a corpse.

“Give me a call once you get back home,” Taeyong demanded before we parted ways.

***

“You went clubbing without me?” Johnny dramatically asked after I told him everything that happened on the weekend. Despite my detailed narration, it seemed as if that was the only thing he caught on to. “How could you?”

“Relax, dude,” I rolled my eyes, shuffling around my desk, getting ready for work. It was Monday morning – it was about time we start our gossip routine.

“And I was wondering… would you mind helping me researching this shady dude? There’s some conflict between him and Taeyong. And I need to know what happened,” I started, wondering if Johnny would cooperate with me and put his stalking abilities to good use.

I was too embarrassed to ask Taeyong about Doyoung. Besides, I had a hunch he would either brush me off or scold me.

“Do you know anything about this dude besides his name?” Johnny pulled out his phone, no questions asked. “Please, don’t tell me that’s the only thing you know.”

“I mean… he’s probably a dancer,” I added with a sheepish smile, making Johnny heave a deep sigh. “He must be a big deal, though. Apparently, Taeyong lost a competition to him.”

“I’ll try to find some dirt, but it may be difficult given how little info you gave me,” Johnny declared as he began his thorough research.

It took Johnny five minutes to find the correct Doyoung. It was remarkable. If it wasn’t enough for the FBI to hire him, I’d gladly present them a recommendation letter. Quickly, I opened Doyoung’s profile on my phone, scrolling through his feed.

At first glance, Doyoung seemed to be a regular bratty internet star with an overgrown ego. His follower count was impressive. Studying his profile, I learned a lot about him. Unfortunately, it had no value. There was nothing specific about his conflict with Taeyong.

“How was your date with Wendy?” I asked Johnny as I gave up on my research. Whatever was the root of their bad blood would have to remain a mystery.

“It was fine,” Johnny started, but I could tell he wasn’t entirely honest. His disappointed tone betrayed him. “She left before the waiter brought the dessert. Apparently, she didn’t particularly like when I kept calling her Wanda.”

“Ouch.”

“No hard feelings, though,” Johnny shrugged it off, trying to focus on the positive aspect of their terrible date. “At least, I’ve had two slices of cheesecake. Besides, I’m kind of into Sooyoung from the creative team now. I think she is the one.”

“Every girl you’re into is the one,” I interjected, rolling my eyes, done with his antics.

“Oh, by the way, I’ve forgotten,” Johnny chimed in, staring at me in excitement. “Taeil asked me about you,” he revealed, and I almost spat out my morning coffee.

“What?”

“Are you still into him, though?” Johnny inquired, rubbing his temple in deep thought. “I haven’t heard you gush about him these days,” he pinpointed, and I wondered if my crush on Taeil was still as intense as it was a few months ago.

Taeil was insanely hot. I kept drooling whenever I saw him operate the printer. It was inappropriate to check him out whenever he bent down to change the ink, but I couldn’t help myself. Or whenever we met by the vending machine.

Good old times.

Right now, though, I rarely caught myself thinking about him. At first, I thought it was due to a hectic schedule. I was either at work or at the dance studio or getting shit-faced with Johnny on another wild adventure with him and his friends.

It was difficult to comprehend how easily my crush faded into thin air. Taeil was still sexy as fuck, but while I appreciate his looks, I wasn’t daydreaming how to get into his pants. At this point, I was just admiring his attributes in the most nonsexual way imaginable.

Apparently, the lack of response on my part was everything Johnny needed to confirm his suspicion.

“So what? Are you into Taeyong now?” Johnny asked boldly, and now, I actually choked on my coffee, thinking I heard him wrong. How did he jump to that conclusion?

“What?”

“Don’t get me wrong, but it kinda looks like you’re into him,” Johnny commented, playing with a pen. “You talk about him all the time with lots of passion. I think there’s something going on between you two. Is he single?”

“I talk about him all the time because I live to complain, and recently he’s the sole reason why I gotta vent,” I defended, but Johnny didn’t seem convinced. “And I don’t know if he’s single. I don’t really care,” quickly, I rejected all accusations, but in all honesty, his words got me wondering.

Was I attracted to Taeyong?

Surely, Taeyong was ridiculously attractive. He danced well, too. Unfortunately, we didn’t click much. There was passion between us, but it wasn’t romantically stemmed. We just kept annoying each other. I wouldn’t consider it sexual. We were just getting on each other’s nerves often, unable to properly solve our differences.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, honey,” Johnny teased, and I fought the urge to throw the stapler at him. “I bet fifty bucks you’ve imagined him naked, fucking you dumb.”

What the fuck, John???

I did not imagine Taeyong naked!

Not until now, at least.

“I seriously hate you right now,” I complained, deciding it’s about time I focus on work.

***

After Johnny had planted naughty thoughts in my mind, each dance practice was unbearable. My mind was running wild, coming up with different scenarios involving Taeyong and me in intimate situations. It was wrong on so many levels, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop.

After months of practicing the dance routine, we decided it would be best to make some changes to the choreography. Though it was still sensual as hell, with our hands roaming each other’s bodies, we found it crucial to accentuate Taeyong’s talents.

It was a strategic plan. While typically male dancers helped the female dancers shine, we put a little twist to it. Though our performance was still pretty balanced, Taeyong had a few crucial parts of choreography, in which he would snatch everybody’s hearts.

Seulgi didn’t object to our strategy. Well… she was never there, to begin with. Seulgi was a ghost, never present during our practice, always busy doing some last-minute wedding prep.

“Let’s take a five,” Taeyong hollered as he turned off the music, sending us off to a short break. It sounded weird when it came out of his mouth, but I didn’t complain. We’ve been practicing nonstop for the past hour. At this point, I was panting.

Lying down onto the floor, I rested my head on my towel, reaching for my phone. Quickly, I unlocked it to see a series of notifications from Johnny. He had sent me a link to a video, telling me in all caps to watch it.

Having left the earphones in the locker room, I played the video quietly through my phone’s speaker. It was a short film with Doyoung. It must’ve been his performance from last year’s competition. Jamming to the music, I studied his moves.

Doyoung was really good. I mean… it wasn’t professional expertise, but I could tell he had talent. His body control was impeccable, his hip thrusts must’ve impregnated plenty of women in the audience, but his shoulder rolls were just otherworldly. Along with the female dancer, they showcased quite the performance. From the beginning to the very end, I couldn’t look away, failing to notice Taeyong approach me.

“What the hell are you doing?” Taeyong shouted, tearing my phone from my hand, double-checking what I was watching. “Why are you watching this?” He angrily asked, locking the device, wishing for it to stop playing music.

It was difficult to explain.

I couldn’t exactly tell Taeyong that I asked my best friend to do research on Doyoung in hopes of finding out what was the root of their conflict. Though we had never found anything substantial, Johnny would send me more footage to check out. However, regardless of how much stuff Johnny had provided me with, I was still clueless.

“Why are you shouting at me?” I spoke, biting on my bottom lip. I was in big trouble, so it was only logical to play dumb.

Taeyong stared down at me, demanding a genuine answer. His jaw was tensed, his knuckles around my phone turned white. It was just a meaningless clip, but it got him fuming at me. Regardless of what I’d tell him, he wouldn’t like the answer. I figured this much.

“Why were you watching that?” Taeyong yelled, raising his hand, almost smashing my phone against the floor. Thankfully, he held back and gently put it on my bag.

It was incredible how much the video affected Taeyong. The movie worked on Taeyong like a red rag to a bull. One moment he seemed fine, but once he figured out what I was watching, he snapped.

“You really want to know?” I challenged as I rose to my feet, staring at him. It was my turn to raise my voice. If he kept shouting at me, I was going to give him the same treatment. “Ever since that night at the club, I was curious. You were basically throwing daggers at each other, and I really wanted to know what happened between you two. You never bothered to explain it, and I didn’t want to push you.”

“Do you have your answers now?” Taeyong exclaimed, and I rolled my eyes, agitating him even more with my fed-up behavior. He was scary right now, but I refused to let him intimidate me. “Or do you want to read my diary too?!”

I resisted the temptation of saying yes to his offering. Taeyong wasn’t the type of person to write a dairy. He was exaggerating, but I didn’t want to provoke him further. At any mention of Doyoung’s name, wrath took control over Taeyong, turning him into his destructive self.

“If it makes you feel any better, I know shit about him,” I confessed, throwing my hands in the air. “I wanted to know what he did to you, but I came up with nothing. And believe it or not, the way he treated you that night made me worry. You’re my dance partner, and I care about you a lot, and it really hurt me seeing you in distress,” I spat, not thinking about consequences. I was talking without filter, probably spilling too much information.

My verbal diarrhea confused Taeyong. His huge eyes were staring at me in astonishment. He was studying my expression, wondering if everything I said was true. Oh, no! My reckless words made him uncomfortable. He must’ve grown to hate now.

In embarrassment, I looked down at my shoes. I felt terrible, and I needed to come up with something clever to say to save my dignity and ease the tension. However, before I managed to voice my sincere apology, I felt Taeyong’s hands cup my cheeks as he surged forward and kissed my breath away. It was sudden, but I reciprocated the kiss in an instant.

Stress, anxiety, anger, sexual frustration, and probably many other factors led us to this very moment. I had been daydreaming about Taeyong’s mouth on mine for a while now. And when it finally happened, I eagerly swept my tongue across his lips, deepening the kiss. Though I had tried my best to withstand the tension between us, I wasn’t oblivious to it.

Taeyong already knew almost every inch of my body, so his hands naturally began roaming across my skin. Moaning into the kiss, he held me closer, keeping me pressed against him.

“Taeyong,” I breathed out as I pulled away, only for Taeyong to smash his lips against mine again, successfully shushing me. This time around, the kiss was even more passionate, making my knees weak. In a rush, Taeyong pushed me against the wall, pushing his thigh between my legs. “We shouldn’t,” I spoke, but my tone wasn’t convincing at all. I wasn’t even sure who I was trying to convince that it was a bad idea.

“Shut up,” Taeyong demanded as he tilted his face, sucking on my bottom lip. His hands were on my butt, kneading my flesh, trying to make me moan into his mouth. In all honesty, it worked. Maybe, I whimpered incoherent sounds, but it’s was just a poor attempt to encourage him to keep kissing me.

Regardless of how much he was to gift me, I needed more. I wasn’t going to stop until I’d take everything Taeyong was willing to give.

I craned my neck to the side, and Taeyong quickly caught on, leaving a wet trail down my neck. His lips were delicate, careful not to leave a mark, while his hips were grinding against me, letting me feel how stiff he already was.

“Legs,” Taeyong ordered, gently slapping my thigh. Obediently, I spread my legs apart, letting his hand cup my sex. It was ridiculous how horny he was making me. Once his raspy voice echoed in my ears, I fulfilled his wish, waiting for another command in excitement.

“Please,” I begged, needing more of him. Whatever he planned on doing to me, I needed it now. Whether he was to tease me with his beautiful fingers or fuck me raw with his cock, he better do it now.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he whispered against my skin, pressing feather-like kisses along my collarbone. His touch was driving me insane. His hands were everywhere but where I wanted them the most. This type of teasing should be illegal.

It was more than I could take, so I took matters into my own hands. I could play this game, too. With a mischievous smirk upon my face, I hooked my forefinger under the band of his tracksuit bottoms. Unfortunately, Taeyong quickly swept my hand away.

“You’re such a bad girl,” Taeyong commented before he captured my lips again, sliding his tongue into my mouth, knowing I’d talk back to him. “You have to do everything your way. Would it kill you if you listened to me at least once?” Taeyong muttered, staring into my eyes.

Yes, I was a brat. Taeyong wanted me to submit to him, and I would do it eventually, but not before I’d tease him first. What was fun in that?

“Don’t answer that,” he added, and I rolled my eyes. Though we barely hung out outside the dance studio, Taeyong learned a lot about me. Having an answer to everything was one of those things he had the pleasure of discovering.

“Just fuck me, please,” I said nicely, staring into his eyes, hoping it would be enough to make him cave. “I can’t take it any longer,” I added, rubbing my loins against his restrained cock, making him let out a guttural moan.

My plan was working. Slowly, Taeyong was giving in, probably taking his time to think about the consequences of letting me experience instant gratification. Orgasm would’ve been sweeter if he made me wait a bit more, but it was difficult for him to control his urges.

Without any doubt, Taeyong wanted to bury his cock inside of me as much as I wanted him to fuck me dumb. We withstood so many practices without jumping at each other – I should consider it foreplay.

“Fine, but I’m gonna eat you out first,” Taeyong spoke, and I almost lost it by just imagining his jaw going between my thighs. Swiftly, he knelt in front of me, pulling my leggings down to my ankles in one fluid motion. Having kicked off my gym shoes, I wiggled the fabric off my feet, sending it flying across the dance studio.

Taeyong ran his fingers across my panties, inspecting how soaked they already were. With a smirk upon Taeyong’s face, he pressed a chaste kiss against my skin above the waistband before he yanked the undergarment down.

“Beautiful,” he said under his breath before he surged his face, taking my clit between his gorgeous lips, making me tilt my head in pleasure. Frustration got me sensitive. Even the slightest touch got me purring in delight.

Taeyong licked and nipped at my entrance, and I run my hands through his hair, encouraging him to keep going. He flicked his tongue, and I buckled my hips, wanting more.

“I need your fingers,” I pleaded, looking down at him. Taeyong looked breathtaking, with my juices were dripping down his sharp jaw, with his lips turned into a satisfied smirk. He was proud of how he was making me feel. His glistening skin was the very evidence of his skillful moves. “Taeyong, please, I am so close.”

Though I didn’t expect him to, Taeyong listened to my humble request. His middle finger slid right it, making me purr in satisfaction. I could finally feel him inside of me, and it was heavenly. His palm moved quickly, working me up.

The first orgasm was building up. Taeyong was fucking me now with two fingers while his mouth was fiddling with my clit. If it wasn’t for Taeyong’s palm, holding me still, I’d buckle right into his face for more friction.

“I’m about to come,” I declared, shutting my eyes close. As tempting as it was to peek at the mirror on the other wall and check out the view of Taeyong eating me out, it was more than I could take. My instinct to squeeze my eyes shut and welcome the orgasm was too much.

Unfortunately, it didn’t happen.

Before tiny tingles of electricity could unite and explode, shooting through me like a lightning strike, Taeyong pulled away, denying me of my orgasm. It physically hurt when instead of a blissful peak, I felt nothing.

“What the fuck?” I barked angrily, ready to pull him by his hair against my sex and press him against me, so he could finish the job.

“We’re coming together, or we’re not coming at all,” Taeyong sternly replied, standing up. His lips were swollen from all the work he was doing, and they looked even more kissable.

“I’ve never pegged you for such a teaser,” I stated matter-of-factly, still a little bit butt-hurt over the way how smug he was about not letting me come first. Maybe I was a handful most of the time, but I didn’t do anything wrong to deserve such treatment.

“I’m not,” Taeyong chimed in, biting down on his lip. “There’s just something about you that makes me want to punish for your misbehavior,” he explained, and I got it where it came from. I wasn’t the best student he could work with. “Isn’t it the sweetest torture?” Taeyong challenged before he surged forward, smashing his lips against mine again, raising my thigh and giving it a gentle rub.

“Please, Taeyong, I need you inside of me,” I begged as I ground my sex against his rock-hard cock. I couldn’t comprehend how self-disciplined and patient he was; his budge was throbbing underneath his pants. It must’ve been painful for him, and he did all of that to teach me a lesson. “Fuck me, already.”

“Relax, sweetheart. I got you,” he softly spoke as he hoisted me up, pressing me tightly against the wall. “To be honest, I expected you to lose it sooner,” Taeyong added, and I hoped he was talking about my sanity. I endured more than enough; his teasing was too much.

“How should I fuck you?” Taeyong asked, looking around the practice room, seeking a perfect spot to stuff his cock inside of me. We didn’t have a lot of options, but I didn’t care. He could fuck me in the middle of the room, and I’d eagerly spread my legs for him. “Screw it,” he cursed, gently lowering me down onto the floor. “Do you mind?” Taeyong inquired, and I shook my head as I wrapped my legs around his hips, pressing him against me.

“Strip,” I ordered, and Taeyong smirked before he pulled his T-shirt over his head, revealing his lean physique. My eyes marveled at his beautiful shoulders and toned muscles. I had touched him more than I could count, but I never saw him bare, and when I finally did, I gawked.

“What about you, sweetheart? Come on, I am waiting,” Taeyong teased, and I took off my T-shirt. I was only in my sports bra, and Taeyong bit his lip, staring down at me, admiring my simple beauty. With no further comment, Taeyong leaned in, attacking my collarbone. It was hot how attentive he was, but right now, all I needed was his cock buried deep down my cunt.

Desperately, I reached to his sweatpants, palming his erection through the fabric. As soon as I touched him, Taeyong released a needy growl, rolling his hips into my hand, finally giving in to the pleasure. He lost his self-restraint, and now, he seriously needed to fill me up with his throbbing length.

“Take them off,” I breathed out, pulling by the hem of his pants. With a lowered head, Taeyong tsked before he yanked them down to his knees, wriggling out of them. Just as I expected, his cock urgently entailed my attention.

Though the thought of blowing him crossed my mind, I eventually decided not to entertain this idea too much. It was apparent Taeyong wanted to him inside of my pussy. I’d suck him dry on a different occasion. Hopefully, it would happen soon.

“Fuck me, Taeyong,” I moaned as I trembled when the tip of his cock brushed against my folds. I was embarrassingly sensitive after his ministrations, and he dared to tease me again. “Please,” I begged as I gave his length a few gentle strokes, aligning it with my entrance.

“Aaahh…” Taeyong growled, slowly pushing his dick inside of me. Inch by inch, he filled me up, stretching my walls. A lot of different sinful noises came out of his mouth as he began steadily thrusting his hips.

Taeyong’s stamina was no joke. It was hard to believe how long he could snap his hips without messing up his rhythm. His low voice mixed with my desperate moans echoed inside the room, creating a wicked symphony along with the sound of our sweaty bodies smashing against each other.

He was fucking me hard, and I was in seventh heaven. Taeyong was filling me up so good; I could come undone on his cock anytime.

“Taeyong,” I moaned his name as I watched him fuck me. Though it was hot to look at his cock disappear in my pussy, it was even sweeter to stare in the mirror. With my head turned to the side, I studied the whole picture how Taeyong was fucking me.

“I am coming,” I screamed as I felt the bliss approach. Taeyong was panting, struggling to maintain his tempo with the way my walls tightened around his sensitive cock. Once he hit my sweet spot, I was a goner. After a few thrusts, I came, digging my nails in his back.

“Fuck,” Taeyong cursed, shouting my name as he shot his load inside of me, collapsing on top of me. We were a breathless mess, our bodies sticking together, but neither of us minded. At this point, we were too spent to care. “You were incredible,” Taeyong whispered as he pulled out, rolling to the side.

“You weren’t that bad yourself,” I panted, giggling, still recovering from the mind-blowing orgasm. Thankfully, Taeyong didn’t pay much attention to my playful jab. “I meant it what I said,” I added, turning around to look at him.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” Taeyong started, staring into my eyes, showing me his sincerity. “I just can’t help myself but get angry when I see him or hear about him,” he continued, and I nodded my head, letting him know I was willing to listen.

I didn’t expect that Taeyong would agree to vent to me, but when he did, I patiently heard him out. After all, I was pretty sure we were at least friends now.

“It all happened about a year ago. We were competing in the same contest, and he made my dance partner quit. Doyoung seduced her, toyed with her, and once the trophy was his, he dumped her. Because of him, I was disqualified, and she quit dance altogether.”

Listen to his story made me both sad and angry. Doyoung had been a dick to interfere like that – he must’ve known he hadn’t stood a chance against them in a fair fight. My blood was boiling in my veins as I put all the pieces together.

Sadness took over next. The way Doyoung had manipulated Taeyong’s dance partner was upsetting. The wound had been cut so deep, she couldn’t have forced herself to keep going. Doyoung had wrecked two lives, and it made my blood boil, too.

“We’re gonna beat him. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure we do,” I spoke, reassuring him. It was impossible to tend the wounds, but the least I could do is help Taeyong win. For what he had done, Doyoung deserved punishment. If I were Taeyong, I’d not hesitate to beat him up.

“I hope so,” Taeyong muttered, reaching for my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s still fine if we don’t. I’m pretty sure karma will get to him eventually,” he added with a sigh.

“I’ll work harder,” I declared, feeling an extra wave of determination wash through me. “I’ll try my best,” I said, and Taeyong smiled fondly, content to hear me say it.

“Thanks. It means a lot to me.”

For a while, we were staring at each other. It felt nice and somehow more intimate than all the fucking we had done. If we were in bed, I could do it all night. Unfortunately, we were still lying on the uncomfortable floor.

“Let’s get washed up before we get too sappy,” I added, trying to ease the tension. I really enjoyed it, but it was getting a little too much.

“I hope you don’t mind sharing the shower with me. You know… water bills are a bitch,” Taeyong spoke, and I giggled at his bullshit excuse, finding it incredibly cute, considering what we had been doing a few minutes ago.

“Of course they are,” I deadpanned, chuckling. Though his excuse was lame, I liked Taeyong enough to go with it. “Come on. Let’s go. I don’t want anyone to catch me naked.”

***

After that one time at the dance studio, Taeyong and I made it a regular thing. However, we kept it civilized. We wouldn’t jump each other’s bones in the open like animals like we had done the first time. Usually, we would go on small kind-of-dates, which consisted of picking up food, going to my or his place, and then rolling in the sheets.

We were having lots of fun. It was a perfect way to de-stress. After all, the finale was this Saturday, and we were nervous as hell. In all honesty, I was still scared, but these orgasms were numbing my anxiety.

“I think that’s it,” Taeyong spoke, and I smiled brightly, unable to contain my joy. It was the first time Taeyong ever approved of our performance. Most of the time, he was nitpicking, complaining about the slightest mistake, but finally, he was satisfied with it.

I was ecstatic; I never expected to live up to Taeyong’s approval. Through hard work and persistence, I managed to earn his eulogy.

“What should we do now? How about we order some food?” I asked, feeling in a celebratory mood. Maybe it was a little bit too early to drink to this small success, but it’s still worth a shot.

“We should do it again. We should dance it flawlessly at least a couple of hundred consecutive times before celebrating,” Taeyong seriously replied, and I rolled my eyes. Despite his painstaking nature, a couple of hundred times, it was a bit too much. Even for him. “Don’t give me that look. Let’s start again; five, six, seven, eight.”

Though usually, I’d complain and try to force him into a five-minute break, right now, I was oddly energized. We were dancing for the past two hours, and I was panting out of exhaustion. Nevertheless, the thoughts of finally mastering the choreography kept me going.

“I’m pretty good at this,” I confidently commented while roaming my hands across Taeyong’s shoulders before he twirled me around to the rhythm. I could tell that Taeyong was just waiting for an excuse to pause the music and scold me for making a mistake. However, much to his dismay, I executed every move impeccably. “I had a pretty good teacher,” I added, stroking his ego. The D-day was approaching, and Taeyong obviously needed an extra boost of confidence.

“I must admit you were a piece of work. I have no idea what kind of sorcery is this,” Taeyong teased, staring into my eyes. We had practiced the routine plenty of times; we could probably perform it in blindfolds and not make a single mistake. “I must be a magician or something.”

“Don’t push it,” I warned him in a very non-threatening tone, making him smirk. “But it’s only partially your success. Seulgi told me I have the it™ factor,” I proudly said, cracking Taeyong up, messing the choreography. “Is it a student-has-become-the-master kind of moment?” I asked, laughing at Taeyong. For the dance prodigy, he was getting distracted way too easily. It was suspicious.

With a broad smile upon his face, Taeyong grabbed my wrists, making me look at him.

“How about we finish up for today? I have a surprise for you,” Taeyong said, and I cocked my eyebrows, biting my bottom lip. “Not that kind of surprise,” he added, rolling his eyes at me. “We might get it on later, though.”

“What kind of surprise then?”

“Wait a second,” Taeyong spoke, quickly jogging out of the practice room. In a minute, he was back with a garment bag in his hands. “Here, that’s for you. Seulgi came in the morning to drop it off for you,” he explained, and I pulled down the zipper. It was going to be my costume for the contest, and I was curious how it looked.

I was speechless. At first, I thought it was a joke. I wouldn’t be able to perform in that. However, the more I looked at it, the more sense it made. It was a simple white suit shirt, but when mixed with a leather body harness, high-waisted shorts, and boots, it fitted the concept beautifully.

“Do you like it? I thought it was too revealing, but Seulgi insisted you would look amazing in it. I mean… it fits the mood, but if you’re not comfortable with it, we still have some time to find something else,” Taeyong blabbered, and my heart swelled. It was very sweet of him to consider my comfort above anything else.

“It’s skimpy, but it’s fine. I like it,” I replied, having no idea where my confidence was coming from. A few months ago, I’d be anxious to even try it on in the confines of my bedroom. However, now I was planning on showing a lot of skin on national television during prime hours on the weekend. I must’ve gone insane.

“Do you want to try it on?” Taeyong challenged, pulling the hangers out of the bag.

“You mean… here?!”

“Come on, it wouldn’t be the first time you took off your clothes in the middle of the practice room,” Taeyong concluded, smiling at me mischievously.

“Pass,” I firmly rejected his dare, even though it felt tempting. “It’s not fun when I’m doing it alone,” I added, and Taeyong grabbed the hem of his T-shirt, more than ready to discard his clothes in a blink of an eye. “Don’t fool around,” I warned him, placing my hand over his before he managed to take his T-shirt off.

“You’re right. Let’s go to my place first,” Taeyong agreed, zipping the bag before he grabbed my hand, leading me out of the practice room.

***

On the day of the performance, I woke up with a terrible stomach ache. No matter how much fantastic sex Taeyong and I had, I was not mentally prepared to perform in front of the whole nation. I felt sick, almost as if my body was telling me to quit before I’d embarrass myself on national television. Stress was eating me from the inside.

“What are you doing up so early? Let’s go back to bed,” Taeyong purred in his raspy morning voice as he sneaked his arm around my waist, pulling me against him. “You need to be rested before the performance. Trust me, you don’t want a camera to catch you yawning,” he added, nuzzling his nose in the crook of my neck, breathing hot air against my skin.

“Thanks for giving me one more thing to stress about,” I deadpanned, heaving a deep sigh, staring at the ceiling. It was a mistake. I should have never agreed to Seulgi’s proposition in the first place. What the hell was I thinking? “I think it’s a bad idea. We should quit.”

Taeyong wasn’t in the mood for my nagging so early in the morning; he was having none of it. “You’re being ridiculous. We’ve practiced so much. We’re gonna win it with ease,” he declared, pressing a featherlike kiss against my jaw. “But for real,” he added, climbing on top of me, trapping me between his thighs, “we’re going to win. And even if we don’t, it’s fine. Really, if somehow we lose to Doyoung and his partner, I’ll just punch him backstage.”

“How can you say that?” I said with a sigh, running my hands across his thighs, finding it rather calming. “I know you said we should rest, but how about…” I trailed, and Taeyong smiled before eagerly capturing my lips, reading me like an open book.

“Say no more,” Taeyong whispered before his hands traveled under my shirt.

Unfortunately, Taeyong’s phone started buzzing on the nightstand before he managed to pull my panties down. With a groan, he extended his arm, staring at the screen.

“It’s Seulgi.”

“What are you waiting for? It’s her wedding day. Pick it up,” I yelled at him as I fell on the pillow, admiring his handsome face when he was talking to Seulgi.

“Please, not you, too,” he barked, rubbing his face in annoyance. Though I barely could make out what she was saying, I figured this much Seulgi and I were suffering from the same stress-fuelled illness. It was her wedding day, after all. Even if it was obvious she loved Irene with a burning passion, she wasn’t immune to pre-wedding anxiety.

Seulgi was talking her stress away, and Taeyong just hummed and nodded his head, registering her words. For some reason, the pressure didn’t seem to bother Taeyong at all. It was weird, but at least he was the voice of reason, which could help me and Seulgi cope.

“Breath in, breath out,” Taeyong spoke when Seulgi made a pause long enough for him to interject. “I know it’s a big deal, but there’s nothing to worry about. You’re getting married to Irene. You love her so much,” Taeyong reminded her, winking at me, expecting Seulgi to end the call soon. “Everybody’s a little nervous; it’s completely normal.”

It was beautiful how close Taeyong and Seulgi were. They had each other’s backs in all types of situations.

About ten minutes later, Seulgi finally calmed down. Taeyong’s reassuring words swept the anxiety away, and she was more than ready to get married to the love of her life.

Once Seulgi hung up, Taeyong threw his phone on the bed and secured my legs around his hips before he leaned forward, giving me a quick kiss. “Seulgi says hi, by the way,” he added, sneaking his hand under the hem of my panties.

“What?”

“What do you mean what?” Taeyong looked down at me, creasing his eyebrows in confusion.

“She knows?” I yelled, unable to comprehend how, on Earth, Seulgi figured out I was in Taeyong’s bed. She couldn’t know. She wasn’t even there when our romance bloomed. “How?”

“Yeah, is it a bad thing, though? You didn’t want to fuck me in secret, did you?” Taeyong challenged, not really answering my inquiry. Did Seulgi figure it out on her own? Or did Taeyong told her about us? And, the biggest question mark was: what were we to begin with? “Seulgi must have some sort of sixth sense. She was bothering me about the sexual tension between us since day one of your training.”

“I wouldn’t call it sexual tension per se, but there was something going on,” I replied, reminiscing how rocky our beginning was. “But I think we were interrupted…” I reminded him, and Taeyong with a playful smirk on his face dived right between my thighs.

***

The streaming should begin at 8 p.m., but we had to arrive before 5 p.m., so the make-up artists and stylists could prepare us for the performance. Sitting in that chair and waiting for all pampering to be over with was stressful as fuck. I tried to preoccupy myself with an idea of Taeyong, but whenever someone threw a question in my direction, I was being pulled out of my train of happy thoughts.

I wanted to get on the stage and be done with it. Unfortunately, whoever funded that contest didn’t think of the mental health of its participants when making today’s schedule.

Punctually, the show began its transmission at 8 o’clock. However, at the very beginning, the MC had to introduce all sponsors. Going through them took him about twenty minutes. Then, they interviewed some of the eliminated dancers, asking them questions either about their experience in the competition or simply who they thought would win.

Later, they decided to rewind the contestants’ moments in the show. At first, they showed Doyoung and his partner, and a few experts analyzed their performance, wondering what the odds of them winning were.

When the host announced the rewind of Taeyong’s and Seulgi’s stages, the jury only talked about the sudden switch up, confirming it was the first time it ever happened in the grand finale. It startled a lot of people why would Seulgi drop out, but Taeyong explained it in a brief interview.

“It was a crazy coincidence, but Seulgi couldn’t participate today because she is getting married today,” Taeyong revealed, and the audience cooed loudly, obviously supporting her choice. “I was stressed at first, but Seulgi found an amazing dancer to take her spot. She really chose well,” he added, and I looked at him, trying not to cry in front of everyone.

It was almost impossible to fish out a compliment from Taeyong during practice, but right now, he did it on his own accord, melting my heart with his words.

“Everybody is dying to know more about your partner,” the MC started, shifting his attention to me. I didn’t particularly like to be put in the spotlight, but before I managed to spit some nonsense, Taeyong butt in, rescuing the day.

“Although she doesn’t have much experience in dance competitions, I think she’s a great dancer. To think of it, she is my secret weapon,” Taeyong added, and I almost ran into his arms, feeling too overwhelmed by his speech.

“Alright then, let’s see what you got after a short commercial break,” the MC cheerfully announced before I bolted out of the stage as I felt the stress crept into my head.

“Calm down,” Taeyong softly spoke as he approached me, holding my hand, drawing circles with his thumb. “You’ve got this. Just focus on me,” he added, flashing me a reassuring smile before kissing my knuckles.

“Awww… isn’t it adorable?” Someone snickered, and I didn’t need to turn my head around to know it was Doyoung. He was like a venomous snake, trying to sneak into our subconscious and make us even more anxious. It couldn’t be fair play.

“Buzz off,” I barked as I didn’t want to let him tick Taeyong off. Taeyong was my safety pin, and I didn’t want him to go full rage on Doyoung. Their backstage battle would make it to the news, but I’d rather prevent it from happening.

“With Seulgi on your arm, I was giving you a five percent chance of winning,” Doyoung started, ignoring my warning. “Now, when she’s gone, I won’t even have fun beating you on the stage,” he added, and I almost surged forward to punch him. If it wasn’t for Taeyong, who held me in my place, I’d definitely rearranged Doyoung’s face.

“Don’t let him get into your head,” Taeyong whispered into my ear, and I nodded my head, sighing. Then, it struck me. Doyoung’s motive wasn’t to mess with Taeyong but with me. He knew I was the weakest link, and he wanted to guarantee his victory by making me doubt myself. His words rung in my head, but one look at Taeyong helped me relax. We had practiced it a thousand times; there was not a chance I would make a mistake.

“Come on. Let’s go. They’re calling us out,” Taeyong mused, pulling me towards the stage.

The silence filled the auditorium when we got on the stage, taking our respective places. I stole a glance at Taeyong – he was mouthing words of encouragement seconds before the MC announced our performance.

I can hear it callin'

Loving the way you wanna talk

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

Callin', something in the way you wanna talk

On two sides of the stage, we moved to the rhythm, telling the story of two strangers lusting over each other from afar. With hunger in our eyes, we tried to seduce each other with sharp movements, showcasing our attributes.

You got me sayin', you got me sayin'

How you doing? Tell me what's your name (Ey, tell me what's your name?)

What's your sign? Feeling like you are into me

Taeyong ran up to me like a man enchanted by the siren’s voice, rolling his body against mine. It was his moment to shine; everybody’s eyes were on him as he owned the stage with his overflowing charisma.

Baby, we're two distant strangers

I know you don't speak my language

But I love the way she's talking to me (Talking to me)

I can hear it callin' from where you are

Loving the way you wanna talk

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

It was a classic game of cat and mouse. Though our bodies were so close to each other, we moved in perfect synchronization, careful not to brush against each other. The chemistry between us was undeniable, and the feeling of yearning was visible from the very last row.

Max, max, max, we can have it all (To the max)

If you back, back, back, back, back it up (Back it, back it)I'll take you where you wanna, got the gas in the tank (Wow)

If you really wanna make it last (Git, git, git)

Finally, as the song slowly progressed to the end, we were showing intense frustration. We were portraying two individuals, yearning for intimate contact, who were hastily losing their minds over uncontrollable passion.

I can hear it callin' from where you are (Callin', woo)

Loving the way you wanna talk (Love the way you talk)

Touch me, tease me, feel me up (Yeah, yeah)

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

The song was to end soon. The last chorus rolled in – it was our cue. After all teasing, we finally made the connection, ready to combust out of raw craze. After three minutes of painful longing, we were to reach completion.

I can hear it callin' from where you are (Callin', woo)

Loving the way you wanna talk (Love the way you talk)

Touch me, tease me, feel me up (Yeah, yeah)

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

It was all or nothing. We were finally together, touching each other with fervor. The audience was eating our performance up – particularly when Taeyong showcased his flexibility and body control.

Tell me how you like it babe (How you)

I don't even know your name (How you, ey)

I love the way you're talking to me

It was finally time to finish our performance with a bang; we needed to show something spectacular, something Doyoung wouldn’t ever think about. As the singer began the last verse, it was my cue to run into Taeyong’s embrace. The second the last syllable rolled of the singer’s tongue, Taeyong caught me in his arms, and the lights went out to add a dramatic twist to our performance.

For a while, the audience was silent. However, a few seconds later, they roared in excitement, clapping loudly, showing how much they enjoyed our stage.

The MC was congratulating us, but I was too thrilled to register his words. I still couldn’t believe I performed on national television and didn’t trip and smash my face.

I had no idea how I found myself backstage, but there was a high chance Taeyong led me off the stage. I was too overwhelmed to do it on my own.

I even forgot that Johnny, together with Yeri – the love of his week, had backstage passes. I only remembered that when he wrapped his arms around me in a bear hug, congratulating me.

“You gotta quit that office job and start dancing professionally,” Johnny ordered, and I smiled, glad that he enjoyed my performance. “We both gotta quit. You’ll be dancing, and I’ll be a badass FBI agent.”

“You two were great,” Yeri politely said when Johnny let me go. “Thank you so much for letting me backstage.”

“No problem,” Taeyong replied as he grabbed my shaking hands. “Are you okay?” He asked, cupping my face, making me look at him. “You rocked the stage,” he added before he leaned forward to peck my lips.

Ignoring Johnny’s perplexed expression, I wrapped my arms around Taeyong in a comfortable hug. I hadn’t suitably introduced Johnny to the concept of me dating Taeyong, but hopefully, our interaction got the message across.

Emotions were slowly fading away, but I still needed Taeyong’s support. I was a rookie, and I had no experience with this type of stress. Something was calming about Taeyong’s aura; I couldn’t pinpoint what exactly, but I wasn’t going to question it.

“Anticipation is killing me,” I muttered against his skin. “Can he already go on that fucking stage?” I yelled, wondering why Doyoung’s performance didn’t start yet. I knew the MC was building up tension, but it was too much for me to handle.

“We could always skip,” Taeyong casually spoke, and I pulled away to look at him. What the hell was he talking about? I hadn’t agreed to help him out, so we didn’t wait until the end. “If we lose, we lose. If we win, your friend can accept the prize, can’t he?”

“Are you insane?”

“Maybe a little bit,” he answered with a bright smile, brushing stray hair off my forehead. “I just want to know the result already so we can go to Seulgi’s wedding and congratulate them,” he added, and I nodded my head. Though we couldn’t participate during the ceremony, the least we could do was to show up ridiculously late to the reception.

“Can they hurry the fuck up now?” I craned my neck, trying to find Doyoung and his partner. They were arguing about something right behind the curtain. Everything seemed they weren’t in the right headspace.

“I don’t think I want to see their performance,” Taeyong whispered, tightening his grasp on my waist. “How about a quickie in the dressing room? What do you say?” He proposed, and I smacked him, telling him to behave. It was tempting, but we really shouldn’t. I wouldn’t walk up that stage with messed-up post-sex hair.

“Get a grip,” I added, gently elbowing him. “Let’s just hit the snack table. I am hungry,” I spoke, pulling him away when the MC invited Doyoung and his dance partner onto the stage.

While munching on snacks, we stared at each other fondly. In some weird way, we were helping each other cope with anticipation and stress. Though it was tempting to check out their performance, we decided it was for the better if we didn’t.

They performed to “Hips Don’t Lie,” and it was almost impossible to turn my head around to check out Doyoung’s sick moves. Having considered all the videos I had seen of him, I was sure he looked gorgeous.

“What about a little peek?” Taeyong questioned, unable to control his urge to see his rival’s performance. “I thought I could endure it, but I can’t,” he added, and I nodded, giving in. Instantly, we ran to the nearest screen to watch their stage.

It was everything I imagined. Their moves were executed with precision and grace, but entertainment-wise, I was bored. They had the skills, but something about the general concept didn’t fulfill my expectations.

No matter how great of a dancer Doyoung was, he just could not pull this song off as the original artist did. Regardless of how hard he swayed his hips, it just didn’t live up to its potential. Though I wasn’t educated enough to give an honest review, it felt meh.

The audience in the studio whistled and shouted once they finished their performance, giving them a round of applause. With genuine smiles, Doyoung and his partner bowed before they ran off the stage.

Now, only thirty minutes of aggressive advertising, and we would know the winner.

“Is it too late to agree to that quickie?”

“You should’ve said so earlier,” Taeyong answered with an innocent smile as he reached to hold my hand. “The best I can do is cuddles,” he added, leading me to the couch, letting me rest my head on his shoulder. “It feels nice.”

“It does, but it doesn’t take my mind off things like a quickie would.”

“Don’t even try. I am not going on that stage with a boner in my pants,” Taeyong warned, peeling my hand off his thigh, pressing a delicate kiss against my knuckles.

Though it wasn’t as preoccupying as sex, it was still nice. And most importantly, it took our minds off the unbearable anticipation. A staff member actually needed to gently shake Taeyong’s shoulder to remind us that the MC was calling us to the stage.

Taeyong’s hand didn’t leave mine once we were waiting for the big reveal. It was fine if we lost. Next year, Seulgi and Taeyong would definitely make it to the top.

When the MC announced the winner, a few confetti bombs exploded. The audience roared in excitement, but I had no clue what was going on. Uncertainty was over – one of us won.

Stress, anticipation, and anxiety slowed down my reactions. However, I figured it would be weird if Taeyong picked me up and spun me around in his arms if we lost. It could only mean one thing – we did it.

We won.

Taeyong’s acceptance speech was short and simple. He thanked everyone who succored him discover his passion for dancing, who supported him throughout his dream, who directly helped him get this far, and me.

When I was handed the microphone for the first time that evening, I basically rephrased Taeyong words. Maybe it wasn’t my dream, but it felt damn good to assist Taeyong in achieving his. It was a bumpy road, but overall, it was all worth it.

The MC handed me a statue after shaking my hand, congratulating me once more. Taeyong, on the other hand, was gifted a huge check for 20 thousand dollars.

“Let’s go,” Taeyong whispered to me, running off the stage with me.

***

It was shortly before midnight when the Uber parked in front of the hotel where Seulgi’s and Irene’s reception took place. It was beautifully decorated with lights and flowers, making it look like a magical castle.

Though the security didn’t want to grant entrance, one of Seulgi’s aunts recognized Taeyong and told the man to let us in. She was nice enough to help us out, but she still found some time to glance disapprovingly at my stage costume. I wouldn’t be surprised if she gossiped to her entire family I was a prostitute.

As soon as we walked into the ballroom, Seulgi noticed us. She was sitting by the table, eating the wedding cake with Irene. In an instant, she rose from her chair and ran up to us, throwing herself on Taeyong’s neck.

“You won! I knew it!” She shouted as she gave Taeyong a bone-crushing hug. “Irene and I sneaked out for a while to watch your performance. You smashed them,” Seulgi added before she turned to me, congratulating me too.

“You were amazing,” Irene approached us, sending a polite smile. Unlike Seulgi, Irene was much calmer and collected.

“You are finally married,” Taeyong spoke, beaming. “You better have everything recorded. I gotta know every embarrassing thing that I missed,” he added in a teasing manner, earning a playful jab from Seulgi. “I bet you cried during your vows.”

“Congratulations,” I chimed in, breaking their friendly banter before it properly started. It was Seulgi’s wedding day, after all.

After we caught up, Seulgi and Irene walked off to the dance floor, leaving us by the table alone. For a while, we admired them. They looked absolutely stunning in their white suits, dancing, basking in happiness.

“Do you know where the gifts are held?” I inquired suddenly, looking around.

“Why? Did you have time to get them anything?” Taeyong asked before he stuffed his mouth with a chocolate glazed strawberry. “Or are you thinking of stealing some?”

“I just want to give them my part of the prize,” I started, making Taeyong choke on the fruit. “Seulgi’s the rightful winner, and I think it’s only right.”

“Are you sure? It’s a lot of money.”

“Yeah, I know, but I really want to do that,” I replied, fiddling with my fingers. “I don’t need this money, so I want to give it to her.”

“You’re so hot right now,” Taeyong said, making me turn my head in embarrassment. “If that’s what you really want to do, do it. But remember, you earned it.”

“I am sure.”

“Then let me spoil you with my prize,” Taeyong offered, staring into my eyes. At first, I thought he was joking, but when his gaze didn’t even falter, I understood how serious he was. “Well… look at that. What are the odds?” Taeyong spoke as a familiar melody echoed within the walls of the grand ballroom. “It’s our song. Shall we dance?”

Having glanced at Seulgi, who whispered something to the DJ, I smiled at Taeyong. Though I was sick and tired of Love Talk already, it was kind of our song. We had been listening to this song too much, and regardless of how good it was, the prospect of it being our anthem terrified me.

“One last time,” I gave in, accepting Taeyong’s invitation, letting him lead me to the dance floor. Despite having mastered the choreography to it, I just wrapped my arms around his neck, slowly waltzing to it.

“That’s nothing like we practiced,” Taeyong pinpointed, and I chuckled, shaking my head. “I don’t mind, though. It’s comfy,” he added as his hands found purchase on my hips.

“Seulgi doesn’t look pleased. She didn’t expect us to perform, did she?” I whispered into Taeyong’s ear, hugging him closer. “Also, it can’t be our song. We have to change it; the sooner, the better,” I complained, but Taeyong just chuckled into my ear, humming softly.

Instead of giving me an actual answer, Taeyong decided to sing it.

“I love the way you're talking to me.”

#taeyong smut #neosmutsongs #neosmutcollective #nct smut #taeyong #lee taeyong #nct u smut #nct 127 smut #nct fluff #taeyong fluff #dance au

296 notes · View notes

prismatica-the-strange · 3 years

Note

SG1 and you go to a bar on Friday night to relax (you know that Daniel can’t handle any type of alcohol) and he gets ass blasted drunk (on accident) you take him to his apartment and he confesses his feelings to you you know that he probably won’t remember anything in the morning so you have to act like you don’t know anything next time you see him.....

You had a feeling that going drinking with the team was a bad idea.

Sure you got to finally wear that outfit you'd been dying to wear, but now you weren't sure it was worth it.

No. No last night was enjoyable enough that it was definitely worth it.

You had found yourself at the bar for one last drink before getting a cab home. Daniel fell into the seat next to you, a dopey smile on his face as he signaled the barkeep for another beer.

You rolled your eyes as you took your last shot of the night, "Are you sure you want another one?"

He scoffed and took a drink from the bottle.

"'M fineee," he laughed, his cheeks pink from the alchohol.

"Y'know, maybe it's time we all head out," Jack suggested, putting his phone back into his pocket, "Just hot a call from Hammond, we're now scheduled for a briefing for tomorrow."

"That's bullshit," Daniel groaned and Jack snatched his beer.

"That's enough for you, I'm calling you a cab."

"I have one on the way, I can take him home," you offered.

"See Jack? Y/N's got me covered," Daniel smiled as he put his arm around you shoulders. He stumbled off his chair when he reached for the beer in Jack's hand.

You bid the others goodnight, paid your tab, and helped Daniel out to the cab.

He was animatedly telling you a story of some miscommunication off world and laughing on the ride to his place.

He leaned on you on the way up in the elevator, and you were so distracted by the proximity that you couldn't tell that he was unable to keep his eyes off you.

"Oh wow! I didn't know you were so forward, Y/N," he teased when you reached into his jeans pocket, fishing for his keys after he didn't hand them over.

You rolled your eyes and pushed the door open, dragging him with you.

"You'll definitely owe me one after this Jackson," you mutter.

"Y/n?" You turn to look at him and suddenly his lips are on yours.

You took a step back, eyes wide, face burning.

He looked surprised at your reaction, "What's wrong?"

"Daniel, you're drunk."

"'M not," he whined, hands finding their way to your waist, "Just wanna kiss you."

You placed a finger on his lips when he started to leaned in again.

"I'm not doing this when you're wasted," you told him firmly.

"But I always wanna kiss you," he said, lips still pressed your finger. He moved your hand and rested his forehead against yours, "C'mon, you know I love you."

You felt your heart swell in your chest, to hear those words come so easily from his lips.

He muttered something in a language you didn't know before going after your lips again.

"Daniel!" You chastised, pushing him away, "You are so drunk! I doubt you're gonna remember any of this tomorrow."

Something in you hurt at that realization, but you shook it off for the moment.

You managed to get him to his bed, pulling his hands off you when he tried to drag you with him.

You left some water and aspirin on his bedside table before heading to your own apartment.

Now that you had time to review the night before's events, you still weren't sure if it was worth the anxiety you felt as you made your way to the briefing room where Daniel was with two coffees in your hands.

"Morning Sunshine," you loudly announced from the door, making him flinch.

"Thanks," he chuckled when you handed him the cup of dirty bean juice. He rubbed his temple, eyes closed, "I am never drinking again."

"You're such a lightweight," you teased, taking a seat and kicking your feet up on the table.

You took a sip of coffee and missed the way he looked at you.

"So last night," he said timidly.

"What about it?" You asked, trying to sound as oblivious as possible.

He squeezed his eyes shut and hissed out, "Please tell me I didn't actually do that."

"Do what?"

He gave you a look and you sighed, "Well..."

"Oh god," he groaned, dropping his head onto the table.

"It's fine," you lied, "people say stupid shit when they're drunk."

"Well, I guess it's out there now." He sat back up and picked at his cup. "What's the saying? 'Drunk words are sober thoughts?'"

You looked at him in awe, he was completely serious.

"So you love me?" You tried in a weak attempt at teasing. His face flushed pink and he looked at you with nervous eyes.

"Daniel I..." He wasn't drunk anymore.

Putting your feet back on the floor you gripped his shirt and pulled him into a kiss.

Masterlist

#Daniel Jackson #daniel jackson x reader #drunk!Daniel Jackson #thank you for the prompt anon!#prisma writes

41 notes · View notes

acciostorian · 4 years

Text

what friend you are in the friendship group based off your fave sge character

tedros of camelot

-you give me the kind of vibes that you text the group chat about you midnight food order in all caps

-“GUYS I GOT THE FUCKINF MCDONALDS LETS FUCKIFNF GOOOXZ”

-*sends picture of random person to the groupchat* omg they/she/he are so fucking cute ejdjcjd

agatha of woods beyond

-you have to be persuaded to leave the house

-*rings up friend* is that thing still on today?... yeah?.... FUCK

-everyone hates that you wear all black during the summer, you’ve probably been told that looking at you is making everyone else hot

sophie of woods beyond

-you get jealous when someone else in your friend group starts liking something you like (ifykyk)

-“hottie at 3 o’clock. everyone smile and wave.”

-you pick where the group goes to eat. no one else is allowed to choose.

hort of bloodbrook

-you either send the weirdedest fucking messages, or you send really blunt, troubling messages to your friends at 3am whilst their sleeping with no follow up

-always getting left on read, or no one wants to go out with you because your idea is really weird

-the ultimate third wheel

nicola of woods beyond

-you have all the group chats on mute unless stated otherwise

-will not say anything in the chat for ages whilst it’s popping off, then’ll read all the messages and add something really funny and just leaves for another decade

-“no i won’t join the video chat. i’ve been fucking working on the project. what have you been doing? failing you fucking physics exam.”

chaddick of foxwood

-you’re good at sport and you always have matches so all your friend get pissed and are like “whhhhyyyy cant you come on friday? is it because if your sporting event? :/“

-either have to have the dirty jokes explained to you or you’re the one explaining the joke

-have some sort of catchphrase and/or you’ve said something really stupid in the past and your friends bring it up whenever they can

beatrix of jaunt jolie

-WHY ARE YOU UP SO EARLY???? stop fucking messaging the group chat at 5am. get help.

-you’re either healthy and you try to get everyone to get good habits or you have TERRIBLE habits and everyone’s just really concerned for you

-you’ll repeat something stupid someone said in the group chat but you’ll type it LiKe ThIs

rhian of foxwood

-you’ll go ia for DAYS and then you’ll come back and everyone will be like “where the fuck were you??” but you always have an excuse

-you’ve got some sort of god complex/call yourself a god/have really good self esteem

-you bully your friends in front of others but if one of them were to trip you’d be the first one to ask them if they’re okay etc etc

reena of pasha dunes

-the pretty friend. don’t deny it. some many people ask your friends to put in a good word for them and all that

-SO MANY REACTION IMAGES. instead of typing something or something, you’ll instead send like the fucking eddy hearn reaction imagin thats like “let’s say, hypothetically, that everything was okay” (ifykyk)

-please stop being so late to events.

kei of foxwood

-you constantly screenshot the funny moments and just scroll through your camera roll when you’re sad (honestly same though)

-you’re the kind of case where it’s like, you’ll say something at like 5am and everyone would be like “are you up so early because you went to bed really early or because you haven’t even gone to bed at all?”

-stop throwing your phone from hand to hand, it’s making everyone really uncomfortable

kiko of neverland

-you can’t start a message/conversation normally. it’s constantly “what’s up fuckers” “hello fellas” “what’s popping” “hey mamas” “hola amigos” “GOOD MORNING SIMP NATION”

-you’ll say bye/goodnight to the chat really early but then you’ll be caught active at 3am on instagram

-you’re so loud when you’re outside with your friends. please stop shouting things out of context.

japeth of foxwood

-stop sending people pictures of the sun rising. we get it. you sleeping schedule is absolutely fucked.

-you’ll send those ‘how well do you know me’ quizzes to your friends and block the ones that got the lowest

-sends something scary into the group chat at like 2am and scares the shit out of everyone

millicent of maidenvale

-*likes the message and just ends the conversation there*

-you just constantly spam the group chat with animal videos

-made friendship bracelets for your friends and were happy that they all wore them

aric of bloodbrook

-you’re that fucker that’ll be on a facetime to all your friends really late at night and then you’ll just scream down the mic.

-you’re the worst texter. so blunt/spelling things wrong/still have caps on for some fucking reason/SENDS THE LAUGHING CRYING EMOJI

-“i know it’s late, and you’re all probably still asleep. but i really need to tell you that i accidentally blew up [instern friend’s name here]’s minecraft house”

yara of avalon towers

-texts in full sentaces, proper punctuation, but still no caps

-always have such aestheticlly pleasing recent emojis???

-*sends screenshot of someone being disrespectful in someone’s comment section* will you please help me shut down this racist/transphobe/homophobe/fucking idiot

hester of ravens wood

-will be on a call with friends at like 4am then’ll say “hold up whilst i go down stairs real quick and make a coffee.” like what the fuck bro

-STOP LEAVING YOUR FRIENDS ON SEEN

-“who wants to play a horror game with me??? no i don’t care if it’s 2am and you’ve got school tomorrow, i wanna play five nights at fucking freddy’s 4”

anadil of bloodbrook

-only sends voice messages, too lazy to type

-you’ll go to sleep really early and then complain the next day that you missed out on the chaos in the group chat

-when you go to someone’s house your immediate reaction is to ask to see their pets

dot of nottingham

-*sees cat in the corner of someone’s photo* send up a picture of the fucking cate [insert friends name here]

-keyboard smashes, so many keyboard smashes

-“i’ll bake cupcakes, but i’ll put mustard in a few of them so it’ll be a fun game of who’s gonna be sick first?”

#sge #school for good and evil #sge textposts #this took so fucking long #did someone say queued?

49 notes · View notes

perseusjackson-jasongrace · 4 years

Text

Empires on the Horizon I

Jason is a CEO: Part I

Here’s my masterlist for the next part and my other stuff

i fear it might break me

then break

break

let spirit crack you open

-a letter to the king

There was something almost sinister in the whiskey-induced haze of a Manhattan skyline. The buildings nothing but dark blocks, uneven stairs.

There was something lonely about the haze too.

But Jason Grace couldn't give two shits about the blackening playground of buildings, couldn't give two shits about the incredible view from his twenty-second story window, couldn't give two shits about anything except his whiskey bottle and the burn because today could only be described as hell. Worse than hell maybe.

His son of a bitch ex-boyfriend and his son of a bitch new girlfriend, well ex-girlfriend now, had decided to christen his office. The deal he'd been working on for months didn't get legal approval, which meant everything had to be redrafted. And on top of everything his sister called to tell him she’s setting him up on a date with a quote, unquote ‘lovely girl who seems just right for him.’ He wanted to slam his phone across the room, and he would have if he didn't believe she had the supernatural abilities to know when he was pissy.

The shrill ring of said phone interrupted his anger.

"Talk to me"

"Hello Grace, you sound like shit."

"I'd sound better if you didn't fucking call me, you ass."

A laugh echoed down the phone.

"What do you want Valdez?" A smile played at Jason's lips, despite his day.

"Just wanted to check in and see how you were doing," Leo Valdez sighed, "I heard what happened with bimbo and brainless today."

He winced, "I don't know if I want to burn my office or throw them in an unmarked swamp to swim with the crocs."

"We can do both." His friend replied, conviction lacing his words.

He chuckled darkly shaking his head, "I think I'm just gonna drown myself in the good stuff tonight. I'll face the world tomorrow."

"Okay, I've sent over a tub of your favourite ice-cream. Sorry I can't be there; The lady has been raving about this theatre show for months. I'll be dead if I bail now."

"No worries Firefly, thanks for the ice-cream. Let's meet tomorrow for dinner?"

"Sure bro. I'll book us at the Labyrinth."

"Great and bring your better half!"

A laugh was the only reply before the call ended.

Jason collapsed onto the couch, folding his body into the corner of the seat and taking a large swig from the whiskey. Every time his mind wandered to the horrors of the day he drank. It took a horrifyingly short time to see the bottom of the bottle. The world blurred and tilted, swayed like young trees fighting against the wind. Tears spilled hot and fresh down his cheeks- he didn’t bother to wipe them away. Today he was allowed to cry, today he was allowed to break. It was okay, okay...

“OKAY!” He yelled, trying to untangle his legs from the blanket and wipe the drool on his mouth.

The banging at the door started up again and he cursed a blue streak. With a growl he yanked the door open, “What?”

“Well good morning to you too Mr. Grace,” A cheery-faced Hazel Levesque greeted.

“Hazel,” He sighed “Hi, sorry I- come in,”

“Everything okay Boss?”

“Had a bit of a rough day yesterday, I’m sure I smell like the inside of a whiskey bottle,”

“Uh-I don’t know if I should say anything to that,”

“Good call, I might burst into tears if you do.”

She gave him a wide-eyed look but he waved a dismissive hand, picking up the pillows he had flung in rage and the bottle he had discarded just before he crashed on his couch.

“I’m going to go shower; I’ll update you over some breakfast.”

She gave him a long look before nodding and taking up a set at the kitchen counter. He thought about explaining or offering her something to drink but his soul was exhausted; at the very least he could help himself to a shower before he had to face the world.

The water scorched his back, his forehead pressed to the cool tile. He considered himself lucky for having eaten before he got drunk, otherwise he would have spent the morning with his head in a toilet bowl. His brain pounded against his skull but the alcohol was only half to blame; crying for two hours had its fair contribution.

“Okay you can do this. You’ve gotten through a lot of shit, you can get through this.” He stared himself down in his mirror, fixed the clasp on his watch and shouldered his suit jacket.

With a deep breath he stepped out of his room, his business face firmly in place.

“Shall we grab coffee at Reedpipes, you can update me on my schedule on the way.”

“Sounds good Boss let’s go,”

And within a matter of moments they were stepping into their favourite café. Flowers bloomed in the middle of every table and ivy wrapped around the industrial fixtures above them. A bright hello sounded from the barista’s station.

“Good Morning Grover,” He smiled, at the bearded man already frantically working on their orders.

“How’s it going? I haven’t seen you in a hot minute.” Warm eyes twinkled up at him. It took immense self-control not to burst into tears.

Grover, oblivious to his turmoil prattled on, “Hazel how’s the strawberry pot coming along? Did the compos-“

Jason zoned out, the world becoming a blur of sound and moving colours. His mind hurtled him back to yesterday when he had walked into his office– oh gods it hurt to think about. The evidence of them had been everywhere. Clothes strewn on the floor, his papers and trinkets thrown like a hurricane had swept through. And they had just grinned, like they were waiting, like they planned for it. His stomach flipped, ache and regret flooding him.

“Mr Grace!” A small hand shook his shoulders.

He startled back to the present, “Sorry, sorry.”

“It’s okay” Hazel gave him a weird look, “I’ve got our coffees let’s grab a seat.”

He nodded letting her lead them to a little wooden table in the corner of the shop. Sun was just starting to filter in, and the beams caught on the subtle gold accents rimming each table. Once they had settled in across from each other she handed him his cappuccino and took a long slurp of her iced coffee before setting her intimidating golden eyes on him.

“Spill Boss.”

He sighed, running a hand down his face.

“Yesterday I went back to my office after the meeting with Titan Industries, we need to do a redraft for that by the way,”

She nodded, already tapping on her phone to diarise an appointment with the legal team.

“So I get the office and Piper and Luke–“ He gulped, steeling himself, “They decided to use my office as their playground.”

He didn’t know how to put it delicately and little Hazel shouldn’t have to hear his real thoughts on the matter which mostly sounded like ‘fucking fucks, stupid dumbass wankers’ and various other curse words

“Oh Jason,” She gasped softly, reaching out a hand to squeeze his, “I am so sorry. Why are you even coming in to work today? You should have taken the day to yourself.”

“I still have a business to run Hazel, and besides I can’t let their selfishness stop me.”

“You are allowed to be hurt Jason.”

“I know, I know. But I can be hurt this weekend, right now we need to redraft that stupid contract and I need to make some calls about the new buildings starting this week,”

“Right will add that, don’t forget we need to get your suit for the alumni dinner on Friday,”

“Ugh I forgot about that, okay just pencil that in for some time today and maybe call Drew or Silena to find out if they can have a few ready for me to try on. Also I have dinner with Valdez tonight so no calls after six thirty.”

“You got it Boss, and hey–“ She tugged at his sleeve making sure he looked at her, “If at any point you need to stop, you let me know. And if I see you neglecting yourself like you did last time, I will book a trip to the smallest island in the middle of the damn ocean and throw you on a plane myself,”

He laughed at his fiery assistant, and gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder, “Yes ma’am.”

***

Jason’s day wasn’t going great, but it was at least fifty times better than yesterday. All his belongings had been moved to the floor above and his tainted office was being cleaned out. He didn’t know if he wanted to go back there ever again but maybe he could convert it into a room for his employees. At least they won’t be haunted by the events that occurred. His call with Miss Arellano had gone surprisingly well even if the drafting of this stupid Titan Industries project was proving to be a real pain in the ass. He didn’t even know if it was worth it to do this much readjusting.

“Hey boss,” Hazel knocked at his door, “Frank is here to take you to your suit appointment,”

“Damn is it already four?” He frowned at his watch, “Alright give me two minutes to finish this email and then I’ll be ready. You should go home for the day.”

She snorted, “Thanks, but I got some admin to catch up on. You mind if Frank comes back to drop me off at home afterwards though?”

“No problem, you know he would be happy to do it.”

And maybe if Jason hadn’t been so distracted, he would have caught the blush his assistant was trying so hard to stop.

“Right well, let me know if you pick out a suit or if I need to reschedule. Also Mr Valdez called to confirm your reservation at the Labyrinth for seven thirty.”

“Thank you,” He gave her a brief smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes before turning his attention back to his blinking cursor.

***

“Hello ladies,” He entered the open, marbled boutique that was Aphrodite’s Armour.

“Jason!” A sweet voice squealed, coming towards him for a hug.

“Hello Silena, how are you?”

“Much better now that my favourite customer is here,”

“Aww,” Another voice pouted, “I thought I was your favourite customer?”

“Babe you don’t count,” Silena laughed, booping her fiancé on the nose.

“Well if it makes you feel any better Drew, I know she’s lying because she says that to all the customers.”

Silena gasped, smacking his arm, “I DO not.”

“Yes you do hun,” Drew laughed, “You here for your suit Mr Grace?”

“Yea it’s for the alumni dinner at SPQR University this Friday,”

“Oh yes we’ve heard a lot about this dinner. We’ve had all manner of folks come in these last few days.” Silena nodded, already making her way to the back of the store.

“I’m sure. It’s the big charity dinner where they get all the ‘successful’ alumni together and then milk us for all we’re worth.” He shook his head with a smile.

“Ah you rich people can afford it,” Drew scoffed, smirking at him over her shoulder.

“Yes I do agree,” He nodded, “Where’s my favourite of you lot?”

“Oh Charlie isn’t in. It’s Wednesday so he has to go to his sites.”

“He’ll be sad he missed you though, I think he has some project he wants to pitch.”

“Tell him to give me a call, I’m always happy to talk business.”

“Yes, although I’m sure he’ll be much happier to get down to business with you,” Drew cackled.

“And how would his two fiancées feel about that?” He raised a blonde brow.

“Quite excited,” Silena bubbled, a glitter in her eyes.

Jason let out a real laugh for the first time all day, “Sorry darlings but I don’t think I’d be much fun right now.”

Drew gave him a kiss on the cheek “Well, we’ll be here when you do.”

“Much appreciated,” He grinned.

“Okay, I think I have the perfect one!” Silena moved from behind the racks shoving a black bag into his hands, “Go try it on.”

He stumbled into the changing room and pulled out a gorgeous maroon suit. The lining was a deep blue and the detailing on the seams matched it perfectly. He knew immediately this would be a favourite of his and got confirmation when two minutes later he stepped out to gasps and applause.

“Mr Grace,” Drew’s eyes were wide.

“This is the best one yet,” Silena sighed, assessing him.

“Thank you ladies, it really is beautiful.”

“I think the wearer may be more so,” A low voice from behind them said.

Jason’s head shot up only for his gaze to land on the most exquisite person he had ever had the privilege of laying his eyes on. The beautiful stranger stood with their hands tucked in their pocket and an appreciative look on their face.

“Oh Mr Jackson we didn’t think you’d be here so early.” Silena jumped into action, ushering him through the door and out of site.

Jason was standing stock-still unable to get the image of sparkling green eyes and molten brown skin out of his head.

“Who was that?” He breathed.

Drew was pulling at his suit, synching it and marking the fabric with needles.

“Oh that was Mr Jackson, he comes in here fairly often too. It’s a wonder you haven’t met before, I’m sure you run around the same social circles, what with your fancy parties and all that,” She was mumbling around a mouth full of measuring tape.

“I’ve never seen him before in my life. Trust me I would remember a face like that.”

That got the seamstress’ attention, “Oh someone has a crush,”

“How could you not? We did see the same person, right? Tall, wonderful curly black hair, unbelievable sea green eyes, a voice like crashing waves and earth and-“

He was cut off by her laughing.

“What?” He frowned.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone fall so hard from a five second interaction.”

He blushed, looking away from her all-knowing gaze, “I’m just saying what I saw.”

“Well I’m pretty sure he’s going to the dinner on Friday so maybe you can talk to him there.”

‘He’s what?” He whipped around to look at her, eyes comically wide.

“Yea, he was telling us all about it when he came in earlier this week.”

“Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods, oh gods,” He muttered, heart racing.

“Oh don’t panic, he’s honestly one of the nicest guys you’ll ever meet.” She shrugged before pulling at his arm to take the measurement, “Alright, all set to go. You can pick up the suit tomorrow afternoon or we can send it tomorrow evening?’

“Uh yea, send it.” He said distractedly, already pulling on his clothes.

Drew gave him a cheeky smile, “Goodbye Mr Grace,”

“Bye Drew, tell Silena I said bye, and tell Charlie to call me.”

He stepped into the entrance of the shop, but the beautiful man was nowhere to be found. With a final glance around he made his way into the street, ready for dinner with his friends.

“Hello Grace, glad to see you haven’t gone full hermit,”

“Hello Leo,” He snorted, “It was the ice-cream you sent last night. It gave me hope.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” His friend laughed, “How are you though, seriously?”

“I’ve seen better days, but I’ve seen worse too. I’ll get over it.”

“There is no doubt in my mind Jason Grace,” A soft reassurance floated towards them.

He smiled, pushing out of his seat, “Hello Annabeth,” He enveloped her in a hug.

“Hello my darling,” She gave him a gentle smile.

He let her go and she moved around him to give Leo a quick peck. He smiled at her with overflowing adoration and muttered a soft, “Hello love,”

“Tell us what happened?” She sat down next to her boyfriend and reached out to squeeze Jason’s hand.

So he took a deep breath and relayed the story of his nightmare yesterday. By the time he was finished the couple looked like they were ready to storm the castle and beat Luke and Piper with sledgehammers and drawing compasses.

Annabeth’s grey eyes were hard and stormy with anger, “I’m going to kill them,”

“Don’t worry babe I’m there to help.” Leo said vehemently.

Jason couldn’t help but smile at the protectiveness of his friends, “Thank you guys but I’m fine. Really.”

They gave him a dubious look, their expressions so similar it was comical. He gave them another, hopefully, reassuring smile before they launched into a discussion about work.

Both were engineers with too many degrees to count and an abundance of knowledge circling between them. It was almost scary how exquisitely their minds worked. Jason had recruited them time again for his projects– from designing the education center to building the water systems and electricity grids in the downtown area. His work helping small businesses and improving ‘run-down’ neighbourhoods would be a thousand times harder if he didn’t have them to help him in design and implementation. Annabeth, as the civil engineer, often went to sites with him and over saw a fair few of his community projects. Leo was a mechanical engineering professor at the university they all attended but he was always willing to help if need be. Jason was eternally grateful for that because he didn’t trust many others to oversee his works.

When dessert had been cleared away sometime later the three were laughing and ribbing each other like they were back in college and not big-time owners of various companies.

“Okay, okay,” Leo gasped, “No more of your stories man. Annabeth doesn’t need to know all my secrets.”

The lady in question snorted, digging her elbow into his side, “You wish you had secrets. If you can’t recall I was there for ninety percent of your dumbassery in varsity and I’m here for one hundred percent of it now.”

“You don’t know what happened on our guys nights,” Leo narrowed his cassiterite eyes at her.

“Keep telling yourself that honey,” She smirked.

Jason watched on in amusement as Leo’s face morphed into panic.

“Tell me she’s lying Grace?”

Annabeth’s smirk was wicked, “Oh yes Valdez I know about the ‘pants on fire’ situation, and the ‘jumped off a Ferris wheel situation’ and the–“

“Okay stop. How did you ever choose to date me knowing all these things?” He looked at her with some mixture of horror and wonder.

She shrugged, “I figured if you were smart enough to get a PhD and a Masters you were smart enough to know when I’ll kill you for doing something stupid.”

Jason burst out laughing, “She may be taking your space at the top of my favourite’s list Firefly.”

His friend gave him a look of disgust, “That’s just rude, we’ll see who takes your phone away next time you’re drunk on vodka,”

They all dissolved into fits of giggles after that and Jason felt his heart grow a hundred times lighter.

“Are you guys going to the dinner?”

Annabeth nodded, “I heard the university has a proposition for us this year.”

“I’m mostly excited for the mini tacos,” Leo grinned.

“You’re always excited for the tacos,” She rolled her eyes playfully.

“I can’t help it, there’s just something about them, you know?”

Jason couldn’t help but agree. They really were delicious.

“I guess I’ll see you guys there.”

“You can count on it,” Annabeth gave another of her dazzling smiles, reaching forward to rest a hand on his arm.

“And don’t worry bro I know for a fact Luke isn’t going to be there.”

“Yea I know,” He sighed, “I asked Hazel to check this morning.” They stepped into the chilly night.

“Call us if you need anything,” Leo gave him a look before pulling him in for a hug. Annabeth echoed the sentiment and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

He watched them walk towards their car, fingers intertwined, Annabeth’s blonde curls resting against Leo’s shoulder. A flutter of ache washed through him at their closeness, their easiness. He had had that once. Until Luke had gotten greedy with his ambition. And he may have had that with Piper if she hadn’t decided to screw his ex.

His life was a mess.

Yet when he crashed into bed that night he felt more hopeful and loved than he had in a long time. He slipped into sleep with a soft smile playing on his lips.

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

Okay what are we saying? How do we feel? GIVE ME THOUGHTS!

Tags (if you want to be added to/ taken off the tag list just let me know, all my channels of communication are open):

@lesbian-peanuts @leydiangelo @queen-of-demons-and-hell @msdrpreist @sparkythunderstorm @nishlicious-01

75 notes · View notes

marvinswriting · 4 years

Text

tiny swap part one: damian and aaron

"This is stupid." Janis huffed. "I don't wanna go with Gretchen."

"Hey!"

Damian laughed at the girl in his hands. "It's only for a week. Besides, we all have pretty similar schedules. I'll be there."

"Who am I supposed to talk to while I'm in art?"

"Uh, Gretchen?"

Janis shook her head. "It's not the same."

Damian clicked his tongue. "Just don't be too reckless okay? No jumping off tables or climbing on arms. I don't want you getting hurt."

"Nu-uh. If I have to be miserable, I'll make it fun."

"Janis."

"Yes?"

Damian gave her a pointed look and the artist caved. "Fine. No fun. Totally boring week. Got it."

"That's not what I said."

"Sure sounds like it."

"Are you guys ready?" Karen called out. Each tiny and their giant were talking a bit before a swap. Damian wanted to laugh at how dramatic this whole 'event' was being made out to be. They're still gonna see each other. He'll just be holding Aaron in the halls and making sure Aaron doesn't dive of tables. Not that Aaron would do that.

"Yeah," Cady said, Aaron gave a thumbs up.

Regina mumbled something and Gretchen just shook her head with a smile. "We're all good."

"Same here." Damian pulled Janis close to his chest as everyone met in the center of the empty classroom.

"It's Monday, seven am, before the official school day." Karen reminded them. "You will all be 'swapping'." She did air quotes. "The giants are in charge of making sure their new tiny gets to everywhere they need to be safely, whether that's around school or rides to and from school. Tinies need to make sure not to drive their temporary giant insane."

Janis laughed nervously as Karen pointed to her.

"This is mainly so Damian and Gretchen will stop arguing over who has more bullshit to deal with."

"Hey! Wait a second-" Regina made a noise of offense.

"Everyone will swap back, Friday at lunch." Karen continues. "Obviously if something bad happens, we can switch back, but let's hope it doesn't come to that.

Damian nodded. There have been plenty of times where Janis would get so worked up over something and only Damian could calm her down. It comes with being friends with her for so long. He knew Gretchen and Regina were the same.

But let's hope it doesn't come to that.

"Everything clear?" Karen asked. After receiving a chorus of 'yeahs' she grinned. "Then lets swap!"

Monday, 7:10 AM

Damian walked down the hall, Gretchen to his left and Cady and Karen on his right.

Aaron sat closest to Cady and talked with her, Regina, and Karen.

"So, Janis." He grinned to her girl on Gretchen's shoulder.

The artist crossed her arms. "Sorry, I don't talk to traitors."

"Okay, Jan." Damian rolled his eyes at his best friend's antics.

She blew a raspberry in retaliation.

She'll get over it in ten minutes.

The group made their way to period one. A class they all had together.

Gretchen sat in the front row with Cady behind her and Karen next to her, while Damian sat a couple of rows back. Typically Janis would be with him, probably trying not to fall asleep and it was easier to hide her from the teacher form the back of the classroom.

But not this time.

"Bye, you guys!" Damian said, waving to the group.

Aaron threw up a peace sign as everyone sat down.

Damian watched as Janis let Gretchen place her on the table instead of slipping down herself. He smiled to himself knowing Janis was paying attention to what he said at least a little bit.

Monday, 2 pm

"You sure?" Damian asked.

"Yeah, I take the tiny bus all the time." Aaron said waving his hand.

They stood at the tiny pick up zone.

"We both know Cady isn't the best driver. I just take the bus to and from school, it's no biggie."

Damian grinned. "Do I even want to tell Cady you said that?"

"Oh, she knows."

"Alright then. Get home safe Aaron."

Tuesday, 12 pm

"Lunchtime!" Regina cheered as Damian sat down, lowering Aaron to the table.

"So," Karen grinned. "Everyone is here. Who's been dropped yet?"

"Almost." Janis wiggled her eyebrows.

"It was her fault!" Gretchen raised her hands in defense.

"I believe it." Damian teased. "Just be glad you only have her for a week."

"You love me." Janis huffed.

"I do." Damian agreed.

Aaron walked over, sitting next to Janis and Regina.

It was during lunch when things felt normal. Janis and Regina would bicker, everyone would ignore them until Regina threatened violence and shoving people off tables. Gretchen and Karen would carry the conversation for the most part, while Cady, Aaron, and Damian join in whenever.

"It sucks not to be able to just-" Janis made vague motions with her hands. "Take a nap whenever! I'm so fucking tired all the time."

Damian laughed. "Miss me?"

"Just your jacket."

Wednesday, 8:56 am

"Damian."

The boy looked up from his classwork. Aaron was sneakily texting on his phone.

"Yeah?"

"I'm gonna stay after today, do you think you could give me a ride home? I might not be done before the tiny bus, it's unclear."

"Of course." Damian nodded. "What are you staying after for?"

"English afterschool help."

Well, Damian knew what that meant.

Wednesday, 3:15

"They haven't had any of their secret rant meeting in months," Cady said, standing at the tiny pick up zone. "Do you know how crazy we must be driving them for them want to have English help again?"

Damian laughed. "Speak for yourself, I'm having a great time with Aaron. He doesn't jump off my shoulder while I'm walking."

"Janis is a nightmare," Gretchen said, sipping coffee at three pm.

"Damian tried telling you." Karen points out.

"I'm gonna be so grateful to get Regina back. She can yell at me for a month and I won't complain oh my god."

Damian laughed. Yeah, he was nervous with the idea of Gretchen carrying Janis around. It wasn't a big secret that Gretchen wasn't the best at not dropping tinies. Add that onto Janis's overall reckless behavior and somebody's gonna get hurt.

Probably Janis.

"I will say though," Gretchen pauses to sip her coffee. "She isn't nearly as bad to me. Like yeah, Janis has no regard for her safety, but it's clear she doesn't trust me as she trusts you. For good reason, too."

Damian smiled softly. "For still seeing Janis all the time, I'm sure miss her a lot this week."

"I don't." Gretchen sighs. "You got the easy tiny, Damian."

"Yeah," Cady nods. "Regina is a nightmare. She's no Janis but I'm so used to Aaron that this is wild."

Karen laughs. "I have to deal with them whenever one of you is sick from school."

"A true wildcard." Cady grins.

"If this week is teaching me anything, its to respect Karen a hell lot more." Gretchen said.

Thursday, 12 pm

"I would like to take a moment to point out that Gretchen hasn't dropped me yet." Janis says from her perch on Damian's shoulder. The gang agreed lunchtime could be a free pass since the tinies typically sat with anyone regardless of whos giant was whos anyway.

So naturally, Janis didn't hesitate to scale Damian's arm.

Just when he was starting to get used to this whole, not having a reckless tiny thing.

"Thank you, Gretchen." He laughed.

"It's not easy." She grumbled.

"Trust me, he knows." Janis grinned, leaning into Damian's neck.

"I would like to say right here right now that Aaron no longer gets tiny support group rights. Cady's an angel." Regina said from her spot at the table, leaning against Karen's water bottle.

"If we're playing that game, Damian isn't half bad when you aren't jumping off high points every thirty seconds," Aaron said from his vantage point in Cady's shoulder.

"That's just because he's with you," Janis said shaking her head. "Damian would worry if I was in his pocket all day."

"It's true, I won't deny it," Damian said with a grin.

"But I also think maybe Regina is more reckless than we thought. Because Gretchen drops her a lot more than she drops me." Janis said.

Thursday, 5 pm

"The final day is tomorrow." Damian said, Aaron's face filling his phone screen.

"Yeah. This week wasn't bad, actually. For any of the tinies. I though Janis would go through it, but we all had fun."

Damian would never get over how tinies sounded on call or camera. Their voices were louder, more clear. And slightly lower.

Aaron was no exception.

Wild.

"It was nice to have a tiny who wasn't trying to jump off me at all times."

Aaron laughed. "I do try and prioritize health."

Damian smiled. "Seriously, thank you, for making this week easy. I have a hunch Janis wasn't on her best behavior, intentionally."

Aaron just laughed. "You know Janis. Did you ask Cady how Regina's been? When I asked Regina she told me to mind my own business."

Damian shook his head. "Cady had been oddly quiet about her experience. Gretchen and I won't shut up and she just sits there. I hope everything went okay for them."

Friday, 12 pm

Damian weaved his way through the halls, heading to the cafeteria with Aaron on his shoulder.

"You excited to be with Cady again?" He asked.

"You and Cady aren't too different, Damian," Aaron says. "This week wasn't a drastic change. I had fun."

"I did too." Damian smiled, entering the cafeteria.

There was an excited buzz in the room-

-and a crowd around their lunch table.

"Oh, that's not good." Damian pushes passed people, mindful of the tiny friend on his shoulder.

He reached the center of the crowd as gasped filled the cafeteria.

Everyone fell silent.

well shit @realmisspolarbear @smallsoysauce @musicallygt @sourishlemons

#g/t mean girls #tss #tiny aaron #giant damian #ft #tiny janis #tiny regina #giant gretchen #giant cady #giant karen

11 notes · View notes

thefandomsinhalor · 4 years

Text

The Lucky Pairs of Christmas Underwear

An Advent Calendar fic by thefandomsinhalor

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Rating: Not Rated (it is rated as such until I finish the fic, right now it’s leaning on Mature.)

Summary: Due to heavy workloads and conflicting schedules, Sam and Dean, living in different cities, are both disappointed when it appears that they won't be able to spend the holidays together—something they had always managed to do in the past.

This turn of events, however, offers them both the opportunity to seek someone else to share their respective holidays with, and when Dean's last year crush is paired up with him at the Gift Wrapping booth, and Sam keeps running into a charming new acquaintance, by helping each other, the brothers feel hopeful that Christmas time might not be ruined after all.

Read on AO3

---

Chapter One: A Holly Jolly Time

“Dean? Hello? Did you—are you still there?”

Sitting on a very uncomfortable chair at an overpriced café, for someone of his limited means anyway, Dean swallowed hard. Still holding the phone to his ear, he lowered his eyes as he felt his heart growing heavy at the news he had just heard.

“Dean?” repeated Sam at the other end of the line.

“Yeah. Still here. Sorry. Just—I didn’t expect that.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I feel awful. It’s just—work is crazy.”

“It’s okay, Sammy. I get it. Hell, I’m in the same situation. If not worse.”

“And this is why I’m really sorry. I had agreed to be the one to—”

“Sam, stop.” He cleared his throat. “I—it sucks, but like I said, I get it. We’ve been lucky so far, but I guess that this year…” he let out a deep sigh. He couldn’t even finish the sentence.

“I promise I’ll do my best to change it, but right now, um, it doesn’t seem like I’ll be able to join you for Christmas,” Sam said in a desolate voice.

Dean nodded blankly. “Any other good news?”

Sam let out a deep sigh in turn.

“I—I just, Dean, I hate the idea that you’ll be alone for Christmas.”

“Me? I’ll be fine, Sam. What about you? What are you going to do?”

“I’ll be okay too. I’ll be at work.”

Dean lowered his phone and shook his head for a moment, and then he brought his phone back to his ear. “That’s what I mean, Sam. You, not being able to make it here because of work, deadlines and travelling schedule, that’s one thing. But to actually work on Christmas? I mean, I’m not even doing that and all I do is work.”

“I don’t have a choice. And honestly, it’s just, you know, one day. For a few hours. Which is really annoying when said like this, but...Work will be a nice distraction. And we can still talk. And skype for the rest of the day if you want. It’s ridiculous, but we can do it. I was almost going to suggest that we postpone Christmas and meet up soon after, but….”

“Nah. I mean, even if I knew for a fact that we could do something in the following week, I feel like we would have missed it. It would still be cool, but you know.”

“That’s what I thought too,” agreed Sam. “But we should do something for New Year’s Eve. I’m definitely working on that.”

“All right. Work will still be nuts on my end, but it should have diminished a bit by then. Or maybe I could make it to your end this time.”

“Dean, no. I—unless you let me help you out with money—”

“No,” blurted out Dean.

“—but I know you won’t agree to it,” said Sam, sighing.

Biting his bottom lip, Dean pondered on Sam’s suggestion. “I’m not saying yes, but I’ll think about it,” he brought himself to say.

“You will?”

“Just because I haven’t seen your freaking face for far too long now. But still. Not a definite yes.”

“But you’ll consider it?”

“Yeah. But it’s still too early in the month to have a clue of what the situation’s going to be at that point. So, I’ll leave it to that for now.”

“All right. That’s great,” said Sam.

Dean could hear how happy Sam was at the idea, so he decided that he should make an effort to make it happen.

“And Dean, even if for whatever reason that doesn’t work out either, I promise I’ll visit you soon, okay?”

“All right, Sammy. But don’t worry. I’m—it’s disappointing, but I know you tried. It will be okay.”

“Thanks Dean. I—thanks for understanding.” There was a long pause, and then Sam asked, “So, besides that? Anything new?”

Welcoming the change to a less depressing topic, Dean said, “Not really.”

“What about work? Is the holiday frenzy rising?”

A slightly less depressing topic.

“The frenzy is settling in, all right,” he sighed.

“Is the music driving you nuts already?”

“It’s been driving me nuts for the last two weeks. I was actually freaking humming Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer yesterday and I didn’t even notice it. I only did when a customer mentioned it.”

Sam let out a laugh. “Sorry. A few more weeks and it will be all over. And it’s better than last year, right? Since you’re at the Chocolaterie this time. I thought you said it was a bit more shielded than the rest of the store now that they moved its location this year.”

“Yeah, well that was the plan, but not anymore.” Dean leaned back into his seat.

“What? I—what do you mean?”

“I was about to tell you earlier. I was transferred a couple days ago to another department. Sort of.”

“No! What? But why?”

Dean cleared his throat. “It just needed to be done.”

“Why? Dean, what does that mean?” asked Sam, nearly aggravated as though he already knew the answer.

Dean debated for a moment whether or not he should share the specifics with his brother, knowing that Sam would most undoubtedly be worried and annoyed at him.

Nor would he be shy to express his views about it.

And Dean had worked really hard to avoid this particular lecture.

But since Sam had been honest about his work situation, he concluded that he owed him the same courtesy.

So, Dean replied, “Because another position opened up at the last minute and it offered more hours. I gave my name and here we are.”

“Dean,” groaned Sam.

I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.

“It’s all right, Sam.”

“Is it? How many hours are we talking about now?”

Silence.

“Dean?”

“Twenty hours.”

Sam swore loudly. “On top of your full time job at the garage? And the gig that Jo got you with Pam?”

“I was hoping you forgot about that…”

“I didn’t. Dean, this is nuts. How are you even able to pull this off?”

Dean crossed one arm over his chest, lowering his eyes.

“Bobby is helping me out. I’m solid during the day at the garage throughout the week, so I can have my nights and the weekends to do the rest.”

“That’s not what I meant. Do you even have a day off? A night off?”

“You’re one to talk, Sam. And it’s just for December. Everything will be back to normal after that.”

“December starts tomorrow and it’s already insane. And answer the question.”

Dean sighed. “I work at the store on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday nights. And in the afternoon during the weekend. And then Saturday nights, I wait at Pam’s events, which is really not a big deal. I did it this summer. It’s good money.”

“You did it once, Dean. One wedding. Not four in a row on top of—”

“No weddings this time. Pam said it will be Christmas parties for companies. The first one is tonight. It’s gonna be fine.”

“That leaves you with what, though? For free time?”

“I still have my evenings Sunday through Tuesday.”

“If you’re not pulling extra hours at the garage, you mean? Which I’m guessing you’re already doing in the mornings during the weekends? Am I right?”

“Sam,” warned Dean.

Sam remained silent for a good minute, until he said, “Dean, I’m worried.”

“Don’t be. It’s all going to go in the piggy bank so I’ll be able to catch my breath during the harsh winter,” he joked.

Sam let out a deep sigh. “And what about the new position at the store? Shit, Dean. I—I know you were really happy about—you were actually looking forward to the Chocolaterie. Now, I feel even worse about not being able to go.”

“It’s not your fault. And anyway, it’s just a job for the holidays. No matter what it is, we both know the novelty would have worn off eventually.”

“Okay, hold on here. Because we both know the real reason you wanted to work in that department. And it had absolutely nothing to do with the job in question…”

Dean pursed his lips, lifting his head to look at the ceiling, annoyed.

“Ugh. Not this again, Sam. I told you, it was…it’s not important.”

“Bull. You’ve been whining about this guy for, like, literally a freaking year now. A year.”

“Well, whatever,” urged Dean. “Doesn’t change anything now as he’s not even here.”

“But you said that last year he hadn’t shown up until a week or so before Christmas.”

“I said I only noticed him at the end of the season. Nuance.”

“But you also said they had added employees as Christmas approached. So maybe he was one of them. And he will be this year too.”

Dean let out a sigh. “I don’t know, Sam. All I can do is wait and see.” And after a short pause, he added in an urgent manner, “If I cared. Which, I don’t. Not really.”

Sam snorted. “Right.”

“What about you, huh? Made any headway with your office crush?”

“I—there’s been progress.”

“Yeah? Asked her out yet?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

At the sound of Sam clearing his throat, Dean shook his head.

“Did you or did you not ask her out, Sam?”

“I…okay, I haven’t yet, but—”

“God, Sam,” said Dean, cutting him off. “What are you waiting for?”

“If you would let me finish, I was going to say I’m going to. I’m just waiting for the right opportunity.”

“And when’s that? On your wedding day?”

Sam huffed. “I’ll get to it. The timing and the setting have to be right.”

Dean was not impressed by this statement.

“Don’t wait too long.”

“I won’t.”

Not wanting to push it too far, Dean asked, “Got anything else planned for today?

“Not sure. Kevin texted me. He and some of his friends are going out tonight. He told me the address of the bar. He said he invited Bela too…”

“Perfect! You can make your move then. You’re going, right?”

“I don’t know. I have so much work to do.”

“Sam, I swear if you don’t go, I will somehow teleport to Chicago and drag you there myself.”

“Dean, this isn’t really my scene.”

“That’s precisely why you should go. Live a little. And if Bela’s there, she gets to see you somewhere else than at the office. A different setting, like you’ve been waiting for. And if she’s not there, you still get to have fun.”

“But hitting on her at a bar? Like, that’s just—that’s not really how I had pictured it.”

“Sam, maybe start by finding out if she’s interested? And when you know that she is, feel free to execute whatever fantasy of courtship you had planned out,” he said with a grin on his face. “At least, go to the damn bar and enjoy yourself, huh?”

“In which department are you working at The Milton’s now?” asked Sam.

“Changing the subject, huh? Nice try.”

“I’ll think about what you said,” he assured him. “But I’m curious and you didn’t say earlier.”

There was a reason for that.

“The…I’m working at the Gift Wrapping Booth.”

There was a pregnant pause. “Sorry, the what?”

Dean groaned. “You heard me.”

After a long pause, Sam said, “I see.” Sam hadn’t laughed, but Dean knew full well his brother was most likely holding down a massive fit of laughter. “I’m—wait, aren’t those usually managed by volunteers? And it’s for donations or—”

“It still is. The donation part, I mean. Look, I don’t know the whole story, but apparently, there was an issue last year with some of the volunteers, so this time, they decided to offer their own Gift Wrapping services. Nothing has changed. Every customer is entitled to the services, to donate however much they want, and all the funds goes to the Children’s Hospital, just like last year. The only difference is that the store is employing people instead of relying on volunteers.”

“Is this unusual?”

“I have no clue, but it creates jobs, so I’m not gonna complain about it. It’s actually kinda nice of them to do that since they really don’t have to. And the store is providing the wrapping paper and everything, and let me tell you, it’s not the cheap stuff either.”

“Cool. Cool. I just have one question.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

“Had they seen you wrap anything before they gave you the job or…”

“It’s wrapping, not rocket science.”

“Dean.”

“I’m fine,” he said defensively. And then, after a short hesitation, he added, “They do have a certain fancy way of doing it.”

“Thought so.”

“But I’ll manage. I practiced at home a bit—I mean it’s wrapping for God’s sake!”

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine, Dean. I was just curious,” said Sam sincerely. “And how do you feel about it so far?”

“Well,” sighed Dean, “honestly, it’s been somewhat uneventful. I’m the only one in the booth—it’s more like a box, but whatever. At least I don’t have anyone boring to tear my ears off, but people haven’t been super eager to have their purchases wrapped so far. So it’s basically been me, sitting on a stupid chair and looking at people buying stuff I can’t afford. While listening to the same twelve songs.”

“Well, I don’t know if that’s encouraging or not, but I’m pretty sure the pace will pick up soon enough.”

“Yeah. Not sure that’s a silver lining.” Moving the phone away from his ear, Dean looked at the time on his phone. “All right,” he said, after putting the phone back, “I have to head back. My break is almost over. I’m lucky they even give me one, so… Thanks for the phone call.”

“Same. Though, I wish I had better news. Hang in there, Dean. The holiday season will be over soon.”

“I will. I’ll call you back tonight after my gig. And you better not answer because you’re out having fun for once,” he said with glee.

“We’ll see.”

“You freaking better.”

“Fine! Bye!”

Dean, walking to his booth, trying not to drag his feet, passed by toys’ department and spotted his friends, Charlie and Jo, looking at the board games.

Not in a talking mood, he simply waved at them and continued his route.

“Dean, wait!” said Jo.

Dean came to halt and let his friends catch up to him. “Sorry, I have to go back.”

“We’ll walk with you a minute,” said Jo. “Are you still good for tonight?”

“Yup. Pam called me Thursday night to double check. She gave me the address and everything. And a reminder of the regulations. I’m trying not to take it personally,” he said, beaming.

“Don’t. She did the same for me too.”

“Thanks again for giving her my name.”

“No problem.”

“You going too, Charlie?”

“Yes,” she sighed. “Which sucks. That’s when I had my D&D meet ups.”

“Create a new one, then,” said Jo. “I’ll join.”

Charlie lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t toy with me, Harvelle.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

Then Charlie, smiling, said, “You think we can convince this one too,” she said, poking Dean’s chest with her finger.”

“If I had time to have a life,” he said, “I would.”

Charlie squinted at him. “We’ll have to see about that then.” Continuing walking side by side, she asked him, “So, do you like your new position, Dean?”

“I’m not thrilled, but it’s not bad, either. And if I’m honest, it’s certainly an improvement from last year…”

“That wasn’t very hard to beat,” pointed out Charlie, remembering full well as she had been stuck in the same boat as he had.

“True.”

Having reached the booth, Dean pushed the half-door, stepped inside the booth, and approached the counter facing the girls.

“Wait, I thought you were at the Chocolaterie?” said Jo. “That was like perfect for you.”

“Yeah. I agree,” said Dean. “But I switched for the hours.”

“So, who is manning the Chocolaterie now?”

“Meg,” said Charlie. “I saw her this morning.”

“What?” exclaimed Dean. “Oh, man! I didn’t even know she was back.” And he made a face of disgust.

“She’s actually not that bad,” said Charlie.

An opinion that was not, it seemed, overly shared with her friends.

“Not that I care about that kind of stuff, but she always seemed kind of a manipulator to me,” said Jo.

“I don’t trust her,” said Dean simply.

Charlie lifted an eyebrow. “Um, one, you barely trust anyone. And two, I’m pretty sure the main reason why you don’t like her is because you saw her lurking around that guy you had heart-eyes for last year.”

Jo turned briskly towards her. “What’s that now?” A smirk appeared on her face. “What guy?”

“You didn’t know this?” asked Charlie.

“No. What guy?” she repeated.

“No one,” said Dean, busying himself by moving the wrapping paper around, which was utterly unnecessary.

“Not no one,” said Charlie. “Last year, there was this guy—dark hair, killer blue eyes, about yay-high—he was one of those last-minute employees. You know the ones who are brought in within the last few days before Christmas for emergencies, substitution or additional help?”

Jo nodded, understanding and eager to hear the rest.

“Okay, well, last year,” she continued, “Dean and I were elves helping out kids to have their picture taken with Santa. Which was not very far from the Chocolaterie. And this guy showed up just a few days before Christmas for additional help there, and from that moment on, all Dean did was constantly stare at his pretty face.”

“I didn’t constantly stare at him…”

“You didn’t ask him out?” said Jo.

Dean, pursing his lips, let out a deep sigh. “I never got to. As it was the last days before Christmas, I didn’t have one second to myself. I don’t even know his name or even exchanged a few words with him. And I didn’t work here after Christmas. I, um, did stop by the store a few times, but…and since I’ve been back, I tried to find out if anyone knew anything, but I haven’t had much luck so far.”

“I asked around too since they kept me on after Christmas, but nothing,” said Charlie.

“The only one who may have something is Meg and the only thing she had said to me last year was that his name was Clarence and I’m pretty sure it’s a goddamn lie. Hence: I don’t trust her.”

“Uh-huh. Were they a thing?” asked Jo to Charlie. “‘Clarence’ and Meg, I mean.”

“Who knows?” said Charlie. “It’s possible. I think Meg was the only one who got to interact with him. But he didn’t stay around for that long and I haven’t heard anything suggesting that either. The guy’s a mystery.”

Frowning, something was still bothering Jo. “Why not ask Rowena? If anyone knows who he is, it would be her, no?”

But Dean and Charlie shook their heads. “Rowena wasn’t here last year, remember? It was that atrocious-ass Adler.”

“Right. I think I had repressed that,” she said with a grim face. “Still, there has to be a way to find out. A record or something?”

But Dean was officially done with the subject. “Whatever,” he shrugged. “It’s not like my life depends on it. It was, like, one guy. Who may or may not have been good-looking. From afar. Whatever.”

Charlie and Jo exchanged devious looks.

Ones that made Dean roll his eyes. He waved them goodbye, as he knew they both needed to head back to their own departments, and watched them stroll down the aisle.

And so, left by himself, and with no customers in sight (for him, at the very least), just as he had told Sam, Dean pulled up a chair, sat down and…waited.

Attempting to seem alert and ready to help.

And not appear overly depressed at doing nothing.

At least it’s not complicated and it certainly beats dealing with rude customers.

On the other hand, killing time by staring in front of him blankly felt like a waste of time. Even if he was technically earning money while doing it.

But he knew he shouldn’t complain. As Sam had mentioned earlier, soon enough, he would most likely reminisce on the time when he was bored out of his skull.

But being kept in that booth with nothing else to do but to watch the people around him, while he was stuck alone, served as a painful allegory to his life. Everything around him was moving and there he stood, waiting for someone to come to him, while he was expected to just smile as if he was having the time of his life.

And now, the one silver lining he had had for the holidays was apparently gone as well.

No Sammy. No traditional cookies. And no making fun of old Christmas movies, while eating junk food and drinking eggnog.

They had never spent Christmas apart before. Even when Sam had been away at college. Even when either of them had been in a serious relationship (though that had mostly been Sam’s case, not Dean’s), they had still celebrated the holidays together.

No matter what. That was their thing.

And now he would have to spend it on his own.

Alone.

Assuming he would survive the crazy amount of workload awaiting him in December.

And not be driven mad by this infuriating Christmas music.

Awesome.

I hate my life.

“Hello.”

Dean nearly jumped out of his skin. A hand over his heart, he turned to his left only to realize someone was standing next to him.

In the booth.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you. I was told to join you today.”

Regaining his composure, Dean said, “Cool. Um, the place has been pretty de—”

And the rest of his sentence died in his throat, the moment his eyes fell on his new co-worker.

Dark hair.

Killer blue eyes.

About yay-high.

It’s him.

And he’s here.

With me.

At the freaking booth.

Dean gawked at him.

Chapped lips.

Stubble beard.

And a deep voice that—

And all I’ve been doing is staring at him like a complete moron.

“Hi!” Dean nearly yelled, waving his hand.

Stop now.

And he immediately dropped his hand.

“Hello,” the man repeated.

“Dean,” said Dean, pointing at himself.

“Hello, Dean. I’m Castiel. Nice to meet you.”

Castiel.

“Um, same. Hi, Castiel.”

And he smiled at him like an idiot.

--End of Chapter One----

Read Chapter Two and the rest of the fic on AO3 :)

#spnpetra #spn fic #xmas fic #advent calendar #destiel fluff #sabriel fanfic #my fanfic #christmas shopping #spn xmas

34 notes · View notes

heyyyharry · 6 years

Text

New York

(from the Flatmate!Harry Series)

…in which Y/N goes to New York, and so does Harry.

Warning: a long chapter (i’ve said that about every chapter lately but yeah), a bit of angst, a bit of fluff, a bit of smut, it’s a wild ride so buckle up everyone!

“Congratulations!”

Hana looks up from the documents on her working desk and finds Harry smiling down at her. She looks rather confused, so without waiting for her to ask, Harry continues anyway, “I just ran into Daiki by the coffee machine and he said you were going to New York on Wednesday.”

“Daiki who?”

“The marketing guy.”

“Ugh I hate the marketing department!” Hana pinches the bridge of her nose and asks him to take a seat.

Harry pulls a chair and sits down in front of Hana, seemingly confused by her reaction to what’s supposed to be good news. “What’s wrong? The CEO picked you for this trip to New York and you’re here looking like you just won a oneway ticket to hell.”

“Because it’s the same thing.” Hana sighs, resting her chin on her knuckles. “Do you know who’s coming with me?”

“Who?”

“Rei.”

“Oooh, I like her, she’s nice!” Harry exclaims, smirking as he tells her, “she gave me a donut yesterday.”

“She did that to get your attention, Harold. Someone gave you a donut and you assumed she’s nice.” Hana exhales a laugh as she watches Harry furrow his eyebrows. “That girl hates me.”

Harry squints his eyes in response. “And that would make me change my opinion about her because…?”

Hana’s eyes grow wide as she snorts, grabbing an eraser on the table then tosses it at Harry but he successfully dodges it in a flash. As the two of them burst into laughter, a man walks up to Hana’s desk to greet her with the first great news of the day.

“Good morning Hana, Harry.”

“Hey Mac!” Hana looks up, smiling at her colleague and so does Harry.

“I need to tell you something,” says Mac. Harry immediately stands up when he hears that but Mac stops him midway. “It’s fine, stay, I’ll be quick.”

Harry sits back down, then Mac begins, “so I was supposed to book a hotel room for you and Rei for the trip but she just called me this morning. Unfortunately she got into an accident last night, she’s fine but has to stay in the hospital for at least two weeks.”

“YES!”

Hana’s excitement causes the two men to stare at her, so the girl quickly clears her throat then lowers her voice. “I mean…I’m glad she’s fine.”

Mac lets out a sigh. “So you want to pick someone else to come with you or let the boss decide?”

“Well…”

“Hey, can I go?” Harry volunteers unexpectedly, making Hana exchange looks with Mac before turning to face him.

“Harry, I’m not sure an intern can go,” she says.

Harry’s face falls at the answer he receives, that frown, however doesn’t get to stay for long.

“It’s okay, the boss said H was better than most employees here, I’m sure H can go. I’ll ask him for ya. Don’t worry.” Mac gives Harry a small smile, making the boy’s heart topple over as he hears the news.

“Thank you!” Harry rises from his seat and shakes the man’s hand with both of his, then happily shoves them into his pockets as he watches Mac walk away.

Hana giggles a bit at the intern’s reaction. “You seem to like New York.”

“Not New York,” Harry replies. “My girlfriend is there until Friday. If I can go I’ll get to see her again, maybe surprise her.”

Just the thought of how happy Y/N will be when he shows up unannounced can already make Harry start grinning like an idiot. So now all he has to do is hope that his boss will let Hana bring him along.

...

Niall is at New York’s Central Park with his friends when he receives a call from Harry. Because Harry’s currently in Tokyo so he usually just texts Niall if he wants to talk. Therefore, if he calls, it’s probably an emergency.

Niall falls behind as the group walks ahead just so he can answer the phone.

“Yeah, H?”

“Mate, I’m coming to New York tonight!”

“Haha, funny.”

“I’m not joking Niall. I’m at the airport.”

It takes Niall a moment before he starts squealing excitedly, holding a fist to his mouth as he exclaims, “holy shit I’ve got to tell everyone! Y/N’s going to be so happy!”

“No! Don’t tell Y/N! I want to surprise her!” Harry chuckles when he hears how happy his best friend sounds. “Just text me your hotel’s address.”

“Sure!”

“Horan! Hurry up!” Louis calls in annoyance since everyone else has to stop to wait for only Niall. The boy doesn’t want to get in trouble so he hurries his feet in order to catch up with his friends.

“Hey, are you and Layla talking again?”

“Nope.” Niall purses his lips. “It’s been nearly a month since her birthday and not a single word. I’ll tell you when you get here.”

“Okay, have fun.”

“Alright.” Niall chuckles then puts his phone away just in time he gets to where his friends are waiting.

“Who was that on the phone with ya?” Liam asks.

Trix immediately jumps in, “your girlfriend?”

Layla doesn’t say anything but Y/N can see the sadness in the way she’s staring at the ground. She wraps her arm around Layla’s shoulder, rubbing the girl’s arm while acting casual so nobody will suspect a thing.

Niall’s girlfriend was supposed to come with them on this trip but for some reason she couldn’t. That’s why Ethan came along, to take her spot so they wouldn’t have to waste a plane ticket.

“It’s Harry,” Niall responds. “He called to check on Y/N.”

Layla simply rolls her eyes then walks ahead as soon as she hears that. Y/N, on the other hand, smiles happily as she grabs Layla by the arm to follow the girl, asking her to slow down.

“Look at you, being loved and shit, I cannot relate.” Layla smirks, taking a quick glance at Y/N who’s grinning from ear to ear.

“When are you gonna talk to Niall again?”

“When I want to, right now I don’t.”

“Layla—”

Layla stops and turns to face Y/N. Everyone else have stopped to buy ice-cream so nobody really pays attention to them.

“You can’t change my mind, Y/N. Niall deserves this, I’ve known him for the longest time but he told everyone, all the boys, even Trix, about his new relationship before telling me! Harry’s in fucking Japan but he was the first to know!”

“Layla! Y/N!” Ethan shouts out, waving his hand in the air to get the two girls’ attention.

Layla turns her head and accidentally makes eye-contact with Niall, who’s already staring at her, so she turns away quickly, then tells Y/N they will not speak of this again until they leave New York.

...

Harry and Hana arrive at the hotel in New York at around 7PM, both exhausted after many hours on the plane.

“I can’t believe we didn’t get first class seats!” Harry complains, dragging his suitcase behind him out of the lift, to their room.

Hana uses the key to open the door as she gives him a look. “We have to share a room and you expected them to put us in first class? I’m not the damn CEO.”

“But aren’t you representing the CEO on this trip? At least they should—” Harry stops in the middle of his sentence once he finally sees the room. At this point he really hopes they got the wrong key because...

“Why is there only one bed?!”

“Shit...Mac!” Hana exclaims as she swings her arms in the air. “He booked this room on purpose! He knew how much I hated Rei so he wanted us to share a bed!”

“But he knew I was coming.”

“The room had already been booked by the time Rei said she weren’t going, sweetie.”

Hana rolls her eyes then drags her suitcase inside anyway. She takes off her coat before sitting down on the edge of the bed while Harry stays near the door.

“We’re here for only two nights, it’s okay.” She chuckles, leaning backward with both hands on the mattress to support her weight.

Harry eventually closes the door behind him, scanning his eyes around the small hotel room before announcing, “I’m gonna ask my girlfriend if I can stay with her at her hotel tonight.”

“Suit yourself. I’ll get the whole bed to myself.” Hana gives him a shrug, afterwards rising from the bed.

While Hana is taking the shower, Harry sits on the bed, checking their schedule for tomorrow on his phone while waiting for Niall to text him the address. He can’t believe he’s going to see Y/N again tonight and after one month apart they can finally fall asleep together.

Of course, she may not be happy to find out about Hana, but he thinks telling her about all the crazy stuff that’s happened in person is better than on the phone.

Harry’s train of thought is derailed by Hana’s loud scream from the bathroom. As an instinct, he runs to the bathroom door to check if she’s alright but just as he gets there, the door flies open without warning!

Hana, in nothing but a towel rushes out, trips on her own feet then collapses suddenly, knocking Harry down on his back on the floor with her full weight on top of his.

They both look at each other for a second before screaming out loud!

All of a sudden, the front door is opened wide, there stands Y/N, his girlfriend with shock on her face and her mouth agape at the scene she has to witness by accident.

Hana wastes no time to stand up and quickly secure the huge towel around her bare body before running back into the bathroom. Harry gets back on his feet right after that. He opens his mouth, about to explain, but Niall pops up out of nowhere, looking inappropriately joyful as always.

“Y/N! We’re on the wrong floor! Our rooms are upstairs!” That’s when Niall finally sees his best friend. “Harry?! You’re staying here? What a lovely coincidence!”

The gleefulness on Niall’s face is soon washed off when Hana walks out, wearing the shirt Harry lent her a while ago. In that event, Niall immediately takes a step back because he knows shit is about to go down in that hotel room, and he doesn’t want to be a part of it.

“Y/N, I can explain—“ Harry begins but Y/N doesn’t want to hear his reasons.

She looks at Hana, eyes burning with anger. “Are you wearing my boyfriend’s t-shirt?!”

“No. I mean yes! But it’s not like that! He lent me this shirt when I slept over at his—“

“Hana!” Harry shouts, making the older girl jump in shock.

“Okay, I’ll shut up…”

His eyes softens when they switch back to Y/N who seems so enraged and at the same time downhearted.

“You. Me. Outside. Now.”

Harry swallows hard, because he knows whenever she uses that tone he’s in so much trouble. Exchanging looks with his best friend Niall, Harry walks out of the room and closes the door, leaving Hana behind. Now he’s facing his angry girlfriend with his head hung low, and Niall just awkwardly stares at them, wondering why he has to be here now.

“It was nothing like what you saw!”

“You’ve got three seconds to explain.”

Harry takes a deep breath, then starts talking immediately, “she’s my instructor at work we’re on a business trip and they gave us a room with only one bed and she was in the shower when she screamed and I came to ask if she was alright but she ran out and knocked me down on the floor that was when you showed up and thought we’d done something but we didn’t do anything.”

When Harry finishes, almost breathless, Niall burst into laughter. He’s immensely impressed by his friend telling the whole story in only one breath, but when receiving a glare from Y/N, Niall shuts up immediately.

“Why did she say you two slept together then?” Y/N inquires, still looking unconvinced.

“We didn’t sleep together! Hana’s my neighbor, she was locked out of her flat so I let her stay in mine and lent her that shirt so she could change. I slept on the sofa that night I swear!” Harry raises one hand, frowning at the way she’s squinting her eyes at him.

“Let me get this straight.” Y/N states while laughing but Harry doesn’t think she actually finds this funny. “You’re living next to a girl, who’s also your boss, who slept over in your bed, who came here with you on the business trip you did not tell me about, and you’ve never mentioned a word about her to me?”

“I planned on telling you when I met you tonight. I told Niall I was coming here to surprise you!” Harry turns to Niall, eyes pleading for help. “Tell her Niall!”

“It’s true he—“

“Niall can just lie for you! He’s your best friend!” Y/N nearly shouts at Harry.

Despite having done many stupid things before, Harry swears he’s never seen her this angry. For this reason, he doesn’t say anything else when she storms away, to the lift at the end of the hall. He intends to come along, but she warns him not to go after her.

“I don’t want to look at you right now,” Y/N announces before leaving, and Harry, being too afraid to act against her words, is left with no choice but to watch his girlfriend go.

Hana shows up at the door soon after that, now fully dressed in her own clothes.

“Harry, are you okay?”

“Why did you fucking run out of the bathroom naked?!” Harry raises his voice which startles the girl.

“I saw a rat!” She reasons, looking slightly annoyed because he pins the blame on her.

“And you had to put on my shirt later?!”

“I thought you gave it to me.”

“No I didn’t give it to you I forgot to take it back!” Harry squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, trying not to think of the worst before he declares, “just don’t talk to me for now.”

Without looking at her, not even once, he walks towards the lift. Hana rolls her eyes in response then finally notices Niall, who’s already looking at her.

“I’m Niall.”

“Hana.”

They share a smile and shake hands, then immediately breaks apart when Harry calls for Niall to come along.

…

“Why are we sitting here? Shouldn’t we be out there looking for her?” Harry asks, walking back and forth in the girls’ room with his hands on his hips.

While Layla and Trix are searching for Y/N and Ethan everywhere in the hotel, Liam and Louis are sitting on the bed with Niall, trying to calm Harry down.

“She’s going to be fine. Would you just please sit down?” Niall begs his friend, who brushes that off and continues pacing still.

Layla and Trix burst through the door not so long later, looking elated as they tells everyone they know where Y/N is.

“I was just on the phone with Y/N, she’s safe. She’s in Times Square.”

Harry rushes to the door as soon as he hears, yet Layla blocks his path. “Where are you going?”

“To Times Square.”

“I mean, she was there when I called, I’m not sure if she’s still there now! I told you she’s fine! Ethan’s with her.”

“I’m sure that bloke’s been waiting for an opportunity like this to get in line!” Harry combs his fingers through his hair in frustration then marches his way back to the bed, sitting down next to Niall.

“You can’t blame anyone but yourself. You didn’t tell her about the girl!” Layla remarks, but she’s staring at Niall instead of Harry.

Niall, who apparently notices that, has to fire back right away. “Maybe because he knew she was going to overreact and stop talking to him?”

“She isn’t talking to him now so what’s the point?”

“Are we still talking about Harry and Y/N?” Trix speaks up, but everyone decides to ignore her.

Abruptly, the loud ‘ding’ of the lift pulls all of the attention in the room to the hallway. Harry pushes past Layla to go out but then bumps into his girlfriend and her friend Ethan at the door.

“Baby, I was so worried about you,” he says, reaching out to hold her hand but she shrugs him off then walks into the room.

Ethan passes by Harry, each of them gives the other a hostile stare but neither says a single word.

“Was everyone waiting for me? I told Layla I was fine.” Y/N smiles at her friends, standing with her back facing Harry like he doesn’t exist, and it drives him mad.

“We thought you were out there alone,” Harry breaks his silence. “It’s not safe to walk around New York at this hour! What if something had happened to you?”

Y/N faces him at last. “But I wasn’t alone. Ethan was with me. He would’ve saved me like he did last time when you weren’t there.”

“Are you seriously doing this right now?” Harry puckers up his forehead as he questions, making everyone stand up all at once then automatically head out of the door.

Ethan is the last one here. He touches Y/N’s shoulder and asks if she’s alright to which she answers with a simple nod.

Watching the guy shut the door on the way out, Harry clenches his fists and thinks to himself, I’m going to punch you in the face if you touch my girl again.

“Was that a payback? Because congrats, you won!”

“Won? This is not a competition Harry!” Y/N crosses her arms, her eyebrows knitted together. “Is our relationship just that to you? A competition to see who can hurt the other more?”

“No! Of course not!”

“How would you feel if I slept over at Ethan’s, wore his shirt and landed on top of him with only a towel that barely covered myself?!”

“I would be very upset…”

“Yeah. So you have no right to be jealous!”

“You’re right…I’m sorry…Can you just calm down and we’ll talk this through?”

“I am calm. If I weren’t you wouldn’t be alive to talk to me right now.” She breathes. “Have you two kissed?”

Harry’s frozen for a second, and Y/N’s eyes almost pop out of her head when she sees the look on his face.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“We didn’t kiss! She kissed me!”

“What’s the difference?! Oh my god you cheated on me!”

“I didn’t! I would never!”

“Kissing someone else that’s not your girlfriend is considered cheating, Harry!”

“I can explain if you’d just calm down!” He begs but she already has her face buried in her hands.

Her shoulders start trembling and a look of terror crosses Harry’s face as he quickly approaches Y/N. Harry wraps his arms around his girlfriend’s shoulders, pulling her in and gets surprised when she doesn’t tell him to stay away.

They stand in utter silence for a little while, until she slowly withdraws herself from his embrace. Her eyes are watery and red, the sight of which makes Harry’s stomach clench for he knows this is his fault. They hadn’t seen each other in a month and when they did, he made her cry.

However, what Harry doesn’t expect, is Y/N pulling off the promise he gave her at the airport and handing it to him. Because he refuses to take it back, she grabs his hand, puts the ring inside his palm, and closes his fingers into a fist.

“I want you to leave.”

“Y/N—“

“Don’t let me say it twice Harry. Leave!”

Harry feels a lump in his throat. His mouth drops slightly as he’s about to say something, but he knows no matter what he says next, she’s still too angry to hear him out. Therefore, he holds the ring tightly in his shaky fist then heads towards the door like she told him to. Harry’s heart breaks at his every footstep.

His friends are all waiting in the hallway, and they look shocked when he comes out of the room, looking defeated.

“Did you guys hear all of it?” He asks.

Trix nods her head and Layla violently elbows the poor girl, making her squeal in pain.

“Don’t worry. She’s just angry. I’ll talk to her,” assures Layla as she gives Harry a small smile.

Harry mumbles his thank. Then just like that, forsakes his friends to return to his room.

…

Hana went out to buy some midnight snacks and when she returns to the hotel room, she finds Harry sitting on the floor with his back against the bed, staring desolately at the silver ring between his fingers.

She knows he’s going to flip if she starts talking to him, but he didn’t leave her alone the last time she was sad. She shouldn’t leave him like this now.

“Was it bad?”

He doesn’t answer her question. Hana silently joins him on the floor by his side. That’s when she notices how puffy and red Harry’s eyes and nose are. He must have been crying before she came back. She doesn’t see Harry at someone who would easily shed tears, so this girl must mean a lot for him to be hurt this way.

“I’m sorry…I shouldn’t…Fuck, this is all my fault.”

“No, it’s mine. I’m a terrible boyfriend.” He shakes his head slowly from side to side. “I promised a lot the day I left, but I couldn’t keep my word.”

Hana frowns as she stares at him.

“I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose her.” He sniffs, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. “But if she wants to leave me, I’m gonna let her go…I’ve never been good enough for her anyway.”

“No! Don’t!” Hana suddenly protests and Harry turns to look at her, confused by the sudden change in her tone.

“You’re stupid if you think you should let her go!”

Harry swears he’s never seen Hana this serious before, even at work.

She takes a deep breath, then lets it all out before telling him, “I lost my boyfriend to cancer two years ago.”

Shock flashes across Harry’s face as he hears what she just said. He parts his lips to speak but she goes on before he’s got a chance, “the night you found me crying was the anniversary of his death. I was just going through our videos and the next thing I knew I was crying so hard I couldn’t stop…”

“I—I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine…,” she tells him, smiling sadly. “When we first met I was shocked by how much you reminded me of him. You didn’t look like him but the way you talked was exactly the same…I might have felt something for you, maybe now I still do…but at the end of the day, when I’m alone, I still cry myself to sleep thinking about him and the fact that maybe I’ll never be able to love someone as much.”

“Hana—“

“Harry, look, there are certain people in your life you just can’t replace no matter how hard you look for them in someone else.” Hana gives his hand a squeeze as she asserts. “I’m going to have to move on at some point, but it won’t be the same. So if this girl means so much to you and she’s still not out of reach, you do whatever it takes to keep her. Understood?”

Harry thinks for a moment while trying to steady his breath.

“Yes,” he eventually tells her, eyes glued to the promise ring.

…

“We’re going to miss the flight because of her!” Y/N complains as she checks her watch and finds out they have to leave in less than an hour. She hurries her feet, following Niall to his room.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with Layla!” Niall rolls his eyes. “She came to talk to me and she got mad then kicked me out! Now she refuses to leave the room!”

They both stop in front of the door and Niall shoves his hands in his pockets as he takes a quick glance at Y/N. “She would only speak to you.”

“Okay, don’t worry, I’ll handle this.”

Y/N opens the door and casually walks in. But the person she finds in Niall’s room isn’t Layla. It’s Harry.

He immediately stands up from the bed once he sees her. Confused and surprised, Y/N turns around to question Niall but he’s already disappeared behind the closed door. She desperately turns the knob several times but it’s now locked from the outside.

“Niall Horan! What do you think you’re doing?!” Y/N bangs on the door as she raises her voice. “And what kind of door that can’t be unlocked from the inside?!”

“I won’t let you out until you talk to Harry!”

“If you don’t let me out we’re going to miss the flight!”

“Then you’d better hurry up!”

Y/N groans out loud. Given no choice, she has to turn around to face Harry. He’s wearing that cute little smile on his face and that makes Y/N wish she didn’t love it that much.

“Don’t be mad at Niall. This is my idea.”

“Well you and Niall are two six-year-olds.”

“I had no choice. You wouldn’t talk to me…”

Y/N inhales deeply, eyes turned to the floor to avoid meeting his. She seems a lot in control of her emotions than last night so Harry assumes it’s a good sign.

He rubs his sweaty palms on his pants and nervously speaks up, “I only ask for two minutes, no more.”

“Okay.” Y/N finally agrees, crossing her arms in front of her chest like she’s putting up her guards. “Two minutes. Go.”

…

The lift arrives and the door opens for Layla to walk out. She quickens her pace down the hallway only to find Niall standing outside his room with his ear pressed against the door.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Jesus! You scared me!”

“Where’s Y/N?!”

Niall immediately shushes the girl then grabs her by the arm and drags her away from the room. When they reach the end of the hall, Layla pushes him away, clearly annoyed and startled by his strange behaviors.

“I’m sorry but can’t you just wait? Y/N and Harry are talking in there…well, or so I hope.”

“You fooled her into doing that, right?”

“How do you know?”

“Y/N was really mad at H. She wouldn’t want to be in the same room with him,” Layla answers with her eyebrows furrowed. “I can’t blame her though. He brought it upon himself.”

“H is our friend!”

“So? Y/N is also our friend! Why is it okay for the guys to break the girls hearts?!”

“Please! We both know you’re not mad at H! You’re mad at me!” Niall accuses, but then he realizes he’s being too loud and these walls echo, so he lowers his voice. “Well, we’re here alone now so say what you want to say!”

“I have nothing to say to you!”

“My girlfriend broke up with me because of you so I think I deserve the truth!”

Layla is taken aback by those words. Her green eyes soften for a moment as she looks at him questioningly. “Wait, what?”

“She broke up with me after reading our old texts. She said she couldn’t accept us being so close and told me to choose between you and her.”

“And you chose me?” Layla feels her heart wanting to burst when Niall says nothing at all and just nods his head as a yes.

“Well then…” She breathes, trying to not show that she’s happy when in fact she is elated by the news. “She’s an idiot.”

The corners of Niall’s lips curve into a gleaming smile, but he’s quick to remember their biggest problem is still unresolved. The voice inside his head tells him not to leave this hallway until the conflict is no more.

“Mind telling me what’s up with you in the past month? It wasn’t just because you were the last to know, was it?”

“Why was I the last to know then?”

“I was afraid of how you’d react when you found out. I mean, c’mon, you got really mad when I told you I’d gone on a couple dates with her.”

Layla looks down at her feet like a guilty child who just broke her mother’s favorite vase. Seeing her like this nearly makes Niall laugh. Even so he keeps a straight face because he cannot give in, no matter how cute she is.

“Layla I don’t know how you feel if you avoid me every time I do something that upsets you. I wanted to talk to you at your birthday party but you disappeared, making me think something bad had happened to you!”

She finally lifts her face up and locks eyes with him.

“What if something bad had happened to me? What would you do?”

Her voice is quiet and soft, which is nothing like her usual self but Niall doesn’t know why he’s not surprised. It would normally take his brain a while to process and find the appropriate thing to say, but now he’s temporarily done with using his head to express how he (should) feel.

“I would never forgive myself,” he confesses, not breaking his stare with her.

And Layla smiles.

This moment in the hallway is no doubt the happiest this girl has ever been.

…

Harry finishes his story about all the things that have happened to him in the past month including what Hana told him last night. Nevertheless, there’s no reaction from Y/N.

She just stares at him with the same indifferent expression on her face, which somehow scares him to death. His palms are getting more sweaty as he doesn’t know what to do next or if she’s understood and forgiven him. He’s also too afraid to even ask.

“Was that everything?”

“Yes, I didn’t leave anything out, I swear,” he guarantees.

Y/N nods her head slowly then lets her arms, which are crossed, fall back down to her sides. Her body language says she’s no more in defense and finally lets him back in. Harry’s no psychologist but he knows his girl better than herself sometimes.

“I didn’t cheat on you, love. I know just hearing me say it isn’t a solid proof, but I would never cheat on you.”

He thinks he should stop now because the more he speaks the more guilty he sounds. But he cannot stop, he’s too afraid of losing her to shut the hell up like his mind is telling him too.

“I haven’t laid eyes on or even thought about any other girl. I would never do such a stupid thing so you would leave me.”

“Harry, stop.”

And he does, his heart also stops with him.

“I believe you.”

Harry’s heart rate goes back to normal thanks to those three words. He presses his palms to his chest and heaves out a sigh of relief. For a moment he really thought she was gonna break up with him.

“But you’re still an idiot,” she says, slowly approaching him.

“I know I’m an idiot…um…such an…idiot.”

She stops right when she’s only a breath away from kissing him. Harry hasn’t been this close to her for a month now. To have her so near, innocent round eyes looking at him like this makes his breathing go out of control and his mouth dry. Yet he doesn’t know if he should make a move, she may still be mad.

Y/N starts talking, her voice is soft and slow, “you had the audacity to get jealous with Ethan when you had a naked girl in your room that wasn’t me.”

“Love—“

She shushes him and notices how he’s had the promise ring back on his pinky. So she grabs his left hand, slides the ring off and puts it back on her ring finger, where it belongs.

Everything after that is like a movie scene fast-forwards.

In a blink of an eye, Y/N has Harry pressed down on the bed with her sitting on his thighs as she pulls his t-shirt over his head. Harry lets out a helpless groan, reaching out to help her unbutton her blouse but she swats his hands away and does it herself.

Once her shirt’s been tossed somewhere on the floor, she hurriedly unbuckles his belt. Harry, now has his fingers digging into her hips, just stares down in shock at her hands pulling down his pants.

“Baby, slow down.” He chuckles and catches his girl by surprise when he sits up unexpectedly. His arms secured around her waist as he slams their hips against each other, causing her breath to hitch in her throat.

“Behave yourself! Niall’s outside!” He whispers hoarsely, with his lips brushing against her lips. He’s really just teasing her, she can misbehave however she wants because he’s all on board for this.

“It’s not like Niall doesn’t know we fuck.”

“Language, young lady!” Harry gasps slightly, furrowing his eyebrows as he stares at her in surprise.

Y/N says no word, fingers turn to fists in his hair as she forces his mouth on hers and he returns the kiss with the same level of enthusiasm. She’s always been so shy in bed and it’d be a lie to say he’s not turned on by this. They fall back on the bed and not soon later strip each others’ naked, leaving their clothes lying all over the floor.

That’s how they both end up like this, two orgasms later, Harry lying on his back while holding Y/N, whose head is on his chest. Her lips are nibbling at the flushed skin of Harry’s throat, as if the hickeys she’s given him aren’t enough already.

The couple are still trying to catch their breaths, even though they’ve come back from their highs for about five minutes now.

“I’m going to pull a Steve Jobs and wear a turtleneck to the meeting.” Harry lets out a tired laugh, making Y/N laugh along.

“Why? I want her to see these,” she replies, running her fingertips across the marks she made on him.

“Fuck, you jealous little thing!”

Harry growls as he holds one of her knees then flips them over so she’s now on her back and he can take a better look at his girl. He brushes hair out of her face, lays a kiss on her nose, her cheek, her forehead, her lips. She looks so cute like this, and she’s his and his only.

“You weren’t nice baby, you were very rough with me.” Harry fakes a pout, which makes Y/N giggle.

“I’m sorry I pulled your hair.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” His smirk makes her blush. “I’m going to get you jealous more often.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“Poor Niall must be terrified from hearing you shout my name like that.”

Y/N swats him on the arm. If Harry hadn’t mentioned, she would’ve forgotten about Niall, though it’s unlikely that he’s still waiting outside after all the sounds they’ve made.

Y/N brushes her fingers gently through Harry’s chocolate locks then stares into his eyes as she finally admits her fault, “H, I want to say I’m sorry too, for not being honest myself. If I hadn’t been drunk, maybe you wouldn’t have found out about Ethan.”

“Can’t blame ya. I would’ve flew back just to murder that asshole for hitting on you. I nearly did when you came back with him last night, then I thought about how he saved my girl, so I let him get away with it.” He gives her a toothful grin and pecks her on the lips. “But you…You need to be punished.”

“As much as I’d loved for that to happen, I don’t want to miss my flight.”

Disappointment drowns Harry’s face as she pushes him away to sit up. Though neither of them wants to leave this bed, they still have things to do other than each other.

Once they’ve put their clothes back on, Y/N comes knocking on the door to call for Niall.

“Hey, open the door Niall! We’ve got to go now! Niall?!” She bangs harder on the wood but there’s no answer from the outside.

“Niall, mate!” Harry raises his voice. “Let us out! We’re good now.”

“I don’t think he’s still out there.”

“I’m going to call him.” Harry brushes his messy hair out of his face and pulls out his phone.

Now, as Y/N cannot take her eyes off him, she starts thinking about saying goodbye for the second time and having to wait five more months to see him again. It hurts her to even remind herself that.

“He doesn’t pick up,” Harry says.

Suddenly, Y/N wraps her arms around his waist with her cheek pressed against his chest, and tells him how much she loves him as if he didn’t already know.

“Aww, I love you too, angel.”

“Come to the airport with us. I don’t want to say goodbye now.”

“I have a meeting later baby. And you know it’d be harder to watch you leave if I came to the airport.” He holds her face and kisses her forehead. “Call me when you get home safe, okay?”

“Okay…”

Without a warning, Niall bursts into the room with Layla behind him, both look so frantic, trying to catch their breath.

“Sorry we forgot about you two.”

“Excuse me?!” Y/N pulls away from Harry, raising her eyebrows at both Niall and Layla. “You locked us in here and forgot?”

“Look I’m sorry but we must hurry up! Louis said he would just leave us behind if we made them wait for longer than five more minutes.”

“Jesus!” Y/N rolls her eyes, turning around to kiss Harry one last time as Layla and Niall flee first.

“Is it me or are they holding hands?” Harry asks in doubt so Y/N pokes her head out of the door and finds Niall and Layla hand in hand waiting for the lift.

“Nope, definitely not you.”

Harry nods then leans closer to whisper into her ear, “keep me updated on that when you get home.”

“Absolutely.”

“Y/N! The lift’s here!”

“I’m coming!”

Y/N parts from Harry and hastily catches up with her two friends. Before the door closes between Harry and Y/N, there’s just enough time for her to mouth one last ‘I love you’ to him.

In that moment, Harry knows he’s going to miss her even more than he did before.

…

[2 months later]

Y/N stops in front of her flat then uses her free hand to fish out the key from her bag. She’s on the phone with Layla, who, once again is in an argument with her boyfriend Niall, because they couldn’t agree on a topic in class. Two months into their relationship and these two still argue on a daily basis, but Y/N knows they’re happier than ever, which is kind of weird but also lovely.

“No, Layla, you are not right. Niall is! Listen to Niall! Bye, love you!”

Y/N sticks the key inside the hole as she ends the call before Layla can continue her rambling. That’s when she realizes the door is not even locked. Weird. Y/N remembers doing it when she went out and even checking it twice to make sure she didn’t forget!

Carefully, Y/N opens the door and steps inside without making a sound. She hears noises coming from inside the kitchen, and she assumes she’s got an intruder.

Y/N thinks to herself, if she screams right now it’s unlikely she can outrun this person, what if they attack her and rape her or worse kill her and dump her body somewhere?! She cannot call the police either, because what if she just forgot to lock the door and the noise in the kitchen is just a mouse digging through her rubbish?!

At the end, Y/N decides to grab the umbrella by the door then dials her neighbor’s number.

“Hello? What is it darling?”

“Ben,” she whispers, slowly approaching the kitchen. “I think someone broke into my flat. Are you home?”

“Oh dear, no, I’m at work! Do you want me to call the cops for you?”

“No, just—“

Y/N shuts up abruptly the moment she enters the kitchen. The person in there immediately turns around just in time she drops the umbrella to the floor.

Harry’s face lights up once he sees his girlfriend again. She stares at him in shock for two seconds then screams at the top of her lungs and literally jumps right on him with her legs wrapped around his waist and arms around his neck. This time, unlike the last, he catches her impressively.

“I knew you were gonna do that,” he mumbles into her hair, holding her close as if it was still possible.

On the phone, Ben freaks out when he hears that scream. “Y/N! Are you alright?! Oh no, I’m going to call the police! You hold on and fight for your life!”

“Ben, it’s alright, it’s just Harry!” Y/N says on the phone, giggling and showering Harry’s face with kisses all over.

“He’s home? Well congrats! Wow I nearly thought I would be the last person who got to speak to you!” Ben laughs, making Harry laugh as well. Y/N presses her phone to her boyfriend’s ear so he can greet their neighbor.

“Hey Ben, how are you?”

“I’m great! We’ll catch up when I get home. You kids enjoy each other! I mean…You know what I mean!”

“Okay, thank you Ben we will!” Y/N replies gleefully then ends the call, burying her face back into the crook of his neck. “Baby, you’re home. Why are you home? When are you leaving again?”

“I’m not.”

She pulls away, mouth agape.

“I finished half of my internship and asked them to transfer me back to their office in London. Should’ve done it in the first place but I wanted to go to Japan so bad.” He pauses and strokes her cheek with one hand. “Then I learnt the hard way that all I’d ever wanted was you. I’m not leaving you again, angel.”

Y/N squeals and kisses Harry again. “Pinch me! I don’t believe this!”

“Hmm I have something else in mind.” He chuckles, shifting her a bit in his arms to get both of them comfortable. “Now, let me show you how much I’ve missed you.”

#flatmate!harry #boyfriend!harry #bestfriend!harry #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles series

885 notes · View notes

marsupials-of-mars · 5 years

Text

Dreams

(Because tumblr decided to lose Dreams an Nightmares for no reason I have to reupload)

“Yknow, life’s pretty awesome. Who knows what could happen? We could go to a party, watch a movie, hang out with your friends, eat out... what if something big happens tomorrow? You rescue a puppy off the side of the road, and it turns out that it has puppies, and now you’re a dog grandpa. Or they discover an ancient castle in... some place that has castles....” Roman rambled off predictions. It was he and Thomas’s nightly routine, at least on good nights, on bad nights Virgil might take the shift. But Roman cherished his turn each time, predicting the events of the next day, week, year. It helped Thomas get to sleep, like a bedtime story.

“Thanks Ro.” Thomas yawned and rolled over. In a few moments his breathing deepened. Roman smiled and sunk into Thomas’ mind, energized by a job well done.

He looked around the hall. He didn’t feel tired. Usually if the sides didn’t feel tired at night it meant that they had a shift with... the prince gasped and looked down the hall. Sure enough there was a black and pink door sparkling at the end of the hall. Unlike the side’s rooms, this one only showed up to a side when it was their turn, or if they’d been given specific permission. Roman squealed. He hadn’t been there in weeks. He trotted down the hall eagerly and knocked on the door.

“Ugh, What? I’m working.” An annoyed voice spoke muffled through the door.

Roman smirked and leaned on the door.

“Fine then, I’ll just party all night all by myself.” There was silence a moment. The door flew open and Roman fell into the room. The door-opener sidestepped just in time.

“Watch it, you almost made me spill!” Roman looked up at a leather sleeved hand held out. He grabbed it and was pulled up quickly, almost wrenching his shoulder.

“Okay, ow...” he rubbed his wrist.

“Where have you been you bitch, It’s been so boring around here!” Remy pulled the prince into a hug. “What were you thinking leaving me so long?!”

Roman chuckled and shoved him. “You know if I had a choice I’d be here every night Rem.”

“Okay, OKAY, this is a big night, I’ve got some microwave popcorn in the kitchen, two new nail polishes, and I can queue up some Queer Eye, this is OUR night girl!”

He clipped his sunglasses on his shirt revealing winged eyeliner that none of the other sides could pull off if they tried. “Cmon lets fucking party!”

Roman grabbed his friends shoulders. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Um...drinks?”

“The reason I’m here?”

“To.....party...?”

Roman rolled his eyes. He loved Remy but he could be an airhead a lot of the time.

“Dream mode? Dreams? We need to make a dream.”

Remy blinked. “Well duh, I knew that, we’ve got all night.”

Roman sighed. “You know if we put it off you’ll end up dragging me into the best night of my life and Thomas will go without any dreams for another month.”

“Uuuuuugh!” Remy groaned dramatically. “Who shoved that stick up your ass?” He raised a brow and smirked. “Our Friend Lo~”

“Shut up!” Roman shoved him into the couch. He giggled evilly. “Cmon girl, liven up, live a little!”

Roman rubbed his eyes. It’s times like these he hated, acting like the adult. Who else would be lively enough to tell him, Prince Roman, to liven up? “Fine, why not?” He threw his coat and sash off. “Let’s have some fun first.”

Four episodes of Queer Eye and six collective wines later, Roman stood up. He swayed on his feet a bit. “Dreams! Dream time!”

“Aw, Cmon, my third coat’s nearly dry, give it a minute!” Remy blew on his dark pink nails. Roman touched his cherry red gloss to make sure it was dried.

“Okay, a minute.” He slumped on the couch and watched Remy.

“So what’s been up with you Remington? Whats the deal with the old REM cycle? What’s he been up to?” He turned himself so his knees hung on the back of the couch.

“Not much. Works been kicking my ass. Thomas has been trying to ‘reestablish a healthy sleep schedule” or some shit. It’s haaaard.”

“Does that have to do with the lack of dreams?”

“Yeah, he’s been pretty drained, deep sleep mode. Dreamless, Dark, boring.”

“Sounds gross.”

“Understatement much? It’s literally hell.”

Roman laid back and sighed.

“They dry?”

Remy touched his nails. “Looks like it.” He shoved up from the floor. “Yknow what? Let’s make this dream one to remember, go batshit crazy, more than usual, who’s gonna stop us huh?”

”I’m supposed to be the one coming up with the great ideas!” Roman stumbled to his feet.

“Tough bitch, Cmon!” Remy grabbed his wrist and dragged him into a black room. The door closed behind them, disappearing and leaving them in a blank space. No floor or walls, nothing but them. He waved his hand and a file drawer extended from the nothing. Roman peered over his shoulder.

“So what do we have to work with tonight?”

Remy pulled out a stack of folders. “Here’s all we have from this month.” He pulled out the first. “Ah! His aunt got a new puppy-“

“Oh my god YES! Have you SEEN her her name’s Lucy! She’s the sweetest thing!” Roman gushed.

“So... I’m guessing we’re using this one?”

“Uhdoy!” Roman grabbed the folder. He reached in and pulled out a coffee colored yorkiepoo. “And what if she was... horse sized?” He resized the puppy and squealed. “Cute! And now she’s blue!” He patted her belly and her fur faded to blue.

“Oooh fun, I love it, another!” Remy pulled out the next folder and checked the title. “His friend just introduced him to a guy from her yoga class who he thought was kind of cute but would never care or find any reason to act on.”

“He shall ride the dog! And he’ll be wearing a tux!” Romans pulled the man from the folder and customized his clothes. The man jumped onto horse Lucy, who roared like a lion in response.

“Love it, love it!” Remy pulled the next folder out. “Some random lady working the front desk at his doctors! Her face could be used for anything.”

“Hmmm... save that.”

Remy put the folder back. “What about that cookout he went to where he was eaten alive by bugs?”

“Perfect! Our antagonist! Roman plucked a handful of gnats from the folder and blew them up to the size of softballs, sending them to battle yoga boy and horse Lucy.

“Getting there! What else?”

“He had dinner with his mom recently...”

“Aha!” Roman pulled Thomas’ mother from the folder. He took the secretary and assigned her the role of mother. “His Mom is now the secretary!”

“Okay, Okay! Now? This next one is the entire layout of that cabin he vacationed to in sophomore year!”

“Perfect! I’ll meld it with his own house! We have our setting! Now for the plot!”

“Um... we have either ‘the video is going to be up late’ or ‘the fish I was served at a restaurant recently still had the head.’”

“The second one is juicer! The fish is still alive somehow and he feels the need to take it to the ocean!”

“Why would he-“

“Logan isn’t here! Now, I need one more person!”

“I have...” Remy spread the remaining folders out on the floor. “‘Red haired man he saw on the sidewalk on the drive to Joan’s house’, ‘Amethyst from Steven Universe’, and ‘Junior year Algebra 2 teacher’.”

Roman pulled out Amethyst. “Perfect! Her new name is Carol, and she’s yoga boys big sister! Should we see from her view in first person, or watch her antics in third person?”

“Um...” Remy thought. “Both?”

“GENIUS!” Roman conjured a keypad and typed up a quick script. “Aaaaand done!”

Remy locked in the dream and hit play. He quietly led Roman out and shut the door. “Cmon, we’ll miss it!” He pulled the prince back to the couch and shoved him into the cushions. He turned on the tv and the dream played out onscreen. Roman beamed at his masterpiece. As Thomas dreamt, Remy conjured face masks and frappuccinos. Roman dozed off. Tipsy Remy tried to find out how many popcorn kernels he could balance on his friend’s face. In a few hours the dream finished. lights dimmed. Remy shook Roman awake. “Rise and shine RoRo, he’s waking up.” The prince blinked awake.

“Oh...”

“Lunch this Friday? We need to keep in touch better.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Now get out of my room.” Remy pointed Roman to the door with a manicured finger.

“Bye bitch.” Roman saluted him with two fingers before stepping through the door. It disappeared behind him. He yawned and went to check on the waking Thomas. He rose next to him, sitting at the kitchen table eating cereal.

“Oh, hey Roman! I just had the weirdest dream...”

#roman sanders #sanders sides #thomas sanders #remy sanders #sleep sanders

27 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

Playing Cupid: Chapter 2 (Witney & Shalaska) - Rosie

Summary: Overworked and underpaid, two personal assistants meet in an unsuspecting way. Bonding over their hatred for their ridiculous working conditions and cruel bosses, they hatch a plan to solve all their problems, discovering along the way that sometimes… love needs a little assistance.

Chapter Summary: With their plan set in place, Willam and Courtney pull back the strings of their love bow and arrows and aim straight for their respective bosses, Sharon and Alaska, all the while ignoring the hearts forming in their own eyes.

A/N: Thank you for loving chapter one of Playing Cupid! Here’s chapter two which includes some of my favourite scenes I’ve ever written.

Catch Up on Playing Cupid: Chapter One

“Love is in the air,” Courtney sang to herself quietly as she unlocked her apartment door and walked inside, dropping her bags on the floor and shrugging off her coat. She didn’t know how the rest of the song went but she didn’t care – she was on cloud nine after tonight’s absolute success.

She couldn’t stop smiling to herself on the subway ride home, too excited over the thought of playing cupid, pulling her love arrow back, and striking her boss Alaska right in the heart. Alright, perhaps that was a bit far, but she couldn’t wait to get everything underway. She had traded numbers and emails with Willam and the pair had decided to meet tomorrow to compare schedules in order to pencil in the perfect moment. The more time she spent with Willam, the more the woman intrigued her, so the thought of seeing her again so soon sent a flutter through her stomach.

In the meantime, Courtney had ordered them to think of a dreamy way for Sharon and Alaska to ‘accidentally’ meet. It was a bit of a reach, but Courtney was already fantasizing about the two of them somehow running into each other outside a luxurious Tiffany & Co. window display before laughing over a brunch of croissants and coffee, or seeing each other across the crowd at a rooftop bar, something tropical in both their hands while the sun set behind them.

Turning the corner, she jumped back in mild shock at the sight of seeing her roommate and her girlfriend intertwined on the couch, half their clothes thrown around the room.

“Farrah!” Courtney exclaimed.

“Courtney!” The pastel pink haired girl replied in shock, pulling her lips away from her girlfriend lying underneath her.

“Aja,” Courtney waved as she walked past them to get to the kitchen.

“Hi Courtney!” Aja replied, her voice breathy from kissing Farrah, or maybe because Farrah’s weight was on top of her.

Their legs were a tangle of limbs, Aja’s skirt was completely gone, and Farrah’s bra looked like it was 4 seconds off joining other garments on the floor.

“Sorry,” Farrah apologized sheepishly, grabbing her blouse from between the couch cushions and holding it against her chest. “We can move into the bedroom?”

“Oh, I don’t mind! I won’t be here long, you two can have the living room back in a second,” Courtney said genuinely, opening the fridge to grab the Vegemite and vegan cheese in order to make a late night toasted sandwich.

Both Farrah and Aja looked at her in shock. They had a habit of loosing track of things in the living room when Farrah had a perfectly good bed in her room. But Courtney’s late hours meant they always forgot and felt like the apartment was their own. After Courtney had walked in on them fully naked on three separate occasions, she hit the roof, announcing there had to be some rule changes. Expecting to be deservedly scolded, Farrah had braced herself for Courtney’s annoyance. To hear that she ‘didn’t mind’ was astounding.

“How was work?” Farrah asked, frowning at her friend.

“Fantastic!” Courtney said, throwing her dinner into the sandwich press with a ridiculously toothy grin on her face.

Farrah and Aja exchanged a look. Courtney wasn’t one to whine, Farrah did enough for the three of them, but Courtney’s job was incredibly grueling. Farrah couldn’t remember the last time she had returned home from a 12-hour day with a giant smile on her face.

“Alrighty, I’m all done, I’ll be in my room if you need me, you kids have fun,” Courtney rambled, balancing her sandwich, a drink, her bag and her phone as she walked past the girls again and retreated to her room, not realising they could hear her humming ‘love is in the air.’

Willam Belli: S got a 1h lunch meeting @ 12 I don’t have 2 b @ – u free ?

Courtney Act: Yes! I’ll come to your office, there are too many people at mine :)

At midday exactly and not a minute later Courtney took the elevator up four extra stories and made her way into Willam’s office. It was just as vast and grand as it had been last night, but instead of the cozy, lamp lit lighting that cast shadows around the place the previous time she was here, during the day it was brilliantly white, with sunlight bouncing around its exceptionally clean walls.

Like a drop of vivid nail polish on clean white jeans, Willam sat at her desk in the middle of the room, her loud choice of a fiery red, orange and yellow ombre body con dress screaming against the minimalistic interiors.

She was scribbling something down in her planner, but her head snapped up when she heard Courtney’s heels click against the tiled floor.

“Hello Ms Act,” Willam said, shooting Courtney a smile before finishing up her notes.

“Hi,” Courtney said, suddenly feeling terribly plain in comparison in her black skirt and baby pink blouse.

Willam opened her mouth to speak, but a loud ring from her desk phone swallowed her sentence. She picked up the receiver, gesturing to Courtney to have a seat and that she would only be a moment.

“No, we’re not letting Valentina wear a full face mask on the red carpet of the premier next month. She’s our main star, she’s selling our movie. If you don’t tell her to get that fucking thing off of her face, Darienne, and organize something else stat, I’ll rip it off her myself.”

As Willam barked orders down the phone, Courtney let herself subtly look at the other woman. She noticed how her blown out eyeshadow mimicked the colours in her dress, a beautiful mess of warm shades intensified with glitter and defined by black eyeliner. She noticed how her lipstick was a metallic shade of deep purple, and how her high heels were bright red and glossy. If Courtney wore the same outfit, she’d look like a drag queen on their first night out. But somehow on Willam, with her razor sharp tongue and take-no-shit attitude, all the chaos and colours just worked.

“Sorry,” Willam said sweetly, slamming the phone down before clearing her throat. “People can be just so pushy. Now, we said we were gonna try and find a free slot of time somewhere, right?”

“Yes,” Courtney said, unlocking her iPad to view Alaska’s schedule for the week ahead, a perfectly colour-coordinated wall of meetings, events and appointments staring back at her.

Willam pulled up Sharon’s on her desktop, which was just as jam-packed.

“Alright, I’m just gonna yell out times Sharon has free. 9:30am tomorrow?“

“Nope, we have the Her January cover shoot all day,” Courtney said. “What about 11am next Monday?”

“No luck, Sharon reads screenplays for like 3 hours a day. 4pm Tuesday?”

“Nail appointment. Alaska has 45 minutes in the afternoon though on Wednesday?”

“Nope, Sharon’s out of town until Friday morning then takes the afternoon off to be with Aquaria. This is like a shit game of Battleships,” Willam sighed.

Courtney bit her lip. Having to wait over a week to get their bosses in the same room together would eat her alive. She just wanted it to happen now.

“What about 2pm this afternoon?” Willam asked in a bored voice, the fun of this plan gone now that it looked impossible.

“Today… Thursday… 2pm…” Courtney searched her iPad. “Oh, wow, yeah Alaska is actually free.”

Willam immediately perked up. “Perfect. Let’s do that, then.”

Courtney blinked.

“Whoa, today? Now?"

“Yes.”

“But that’s… today.”

“I’m aware,” Willam said, typing away on her keyboard. “What? You suddenly scared? Little Miss Love not prepared?”

“Well,” Courtney stammered. Willam was right. She didn’t feel prepared. “It’s just all so sudden. And so soon.”

“Love can be like that sometimes,” Willam concluded nonchalantly before smiling to herself. “Oh, by the way, I thought they could meet in an elevator.”

Courtney was dumbfounded.

“An elevator?” She tried to sound nice, but really, an elevator? “I was thinking of something more romantic. Like outside Tiffany & Co, or at a rooftop bar while the sun set behind them.”

“This ain’t some rom-com fantasy dream, this is real life,” Willam waved her off. “Haven’t you ever had a bangin’ woman waltz in and stand next to you and all you wanted was for the elevator to jam so you could fuck all sweaty on the floor?”

“Oh my god Willam—“

“I have! Don’t lie to me, you probably have too. If you can’t think of anything else that would actually work before our deadline of 2pm today, which is in an hour and 35 minutes, it looks like we’ll be tampering with the lifts.”

Courtney massaged her neck, suddenly feeling stressed.

“We can’t actually jam the elevator though. It will be a fleeting meeting that will only last seconds,” Courtney hated how negative she sounded, but she just didn’t see how this would work.

“Who said we couldn’t jam the elevators? I know a girl.”

10 minutes later, the two of them were standing in the rundown alleyway their sky scraping office building back onto. It had become the designated smoking spot for the many receptionists, cleaners and maintenance crew who looked after the building, not to mention the dozens of stressed workers who popped down to smoke a quick cigarette or four in their lunch breaks.

Courtney had never found herself in this part of their building, so she tagged along after Willam who weaved her way down the alley, looking for a specific spot where she knew she’d find a certain person in particular.

“Adore!” Willam exclaimed upon spotting the person in question.

There in the corner against a wall of colourful graffiti sat a girl who looked young enough to be in college. She wore the standard khaki overalls all maintenance workers were required to wear, but her baggy fit, rolled up sleeves and high-waisted belt made it look actually cool when paired with her Doc Martins and grungy 90s style makeup.

From her seated position on an upside down milk crate, she jumped slightly at Willam’s call, before exhaling the smoke in her mouth and pulling her headphones down to sit around her neck.

“Willam!” Adore smiled, standing up and wrapping her arms around her.

“Adore, this is Courtney,” Willam introduced. “Courtney, meet Adore.”

“Hi honey,” Adore drawled, smiling at Courtney and twirling a lock of her ombre blue hair around her finger. While Courtney smiled and said hello, she felt almost patronized by a girl who was clearly younger than her. She immediately disliked Adore, and hated the fact she had Willam’s arm draped around her.

“How’ve you been, bitch?” Willam smiled, before bringing Adore’s hand to her mouth and taking a quick drag of the cigarette still perched between her fingertips.

Adore laughed and lightly punched Willam’s shoulder while Courtney stood awkwardly to the side, feeling like she was at a high school party.

“Girl,” Adore drawled, “work’s been so exhausting.”

“Mhhmm yeah, these 3 hour breaks really take it out of you,” Willam joked, making Adore laugh again. “In all seriousness though, I’m mostly not just here for a smoke. We have a favour to ask.”

“Fire away,” Adore said.

Courtney watched as Adore’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped the more Willam revealed about their plan and Adore’s crucial, potential involvement.

“If this is too much,” Courtney suddenly said, interrupting Willam, “you don’t have to do it. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or anything or feel like we’re compromising your job.”

Adore’s eyes darted between the two women before laughing. “Are you serious? This sounds fucking awesome!”

“So you’re in?” Willam asked.

“Uh let me think about it,” Adore paused, before smirking. “Uh abso-fucking-lutely!”

“Right, I’m off to pick up your dry cleaning,” Courtney lied, standing in the middle of Alaska’s office. “Don’t forget you have a meeting with Milk about the upcoming Marc Jacobs campaign across town at 2:30… so you should leave soon… so you should aim to be out of here and in the elevators at 2…”

Alaska’s gaze shifted from her computer screen to her assistant before she zeroed in on Courtney’s weird behavior. Suddenly terrified, Courtney braced herself for Alaska to instantly know she was lying.

But in a wild turn of events, her boss actually praised her.

“That’s a good idea,” Alaska said. “I always leave my office on time, but so many of the girls need my attention on my way out that I end up instantly running late. Also I totally forgot I had dry cleaning. Huh.”

“Happy to help!” Courtney said brightly as she exhaled in relief. “I’ll see you when you get back from the meeting."

Courtney calmly exited Alaska’s office, but once she was well and truly out of sight, she bolted to the elevator and directed it to take her straight to the basement. When the doors parted, Willam was standing there with her phone to her ear.

“The koala has arrived,” Willam said into her phone before hanging up and snorting as Courtney rolled her eyes at the code name. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy it, though. She followed Willam down the narrow corridor to what must be the maintenance control room Adore told them to meet her in.

“If we’re doing code names, what’s yours?” Courtney asked.

“What do I remind you of?” Willam shot back, throwing a glance to Courtney behind her and giving her wink.

“Oh uh,” Courtney’s mind was too busying replaying that knee-weakening wink to be able to think of animals. “Something loud, and colourful, like a peacock.”

Willam burst out laughing before throwing a hand over her mouth. “I’ll take that. I would have said a pig.”

“Does Sharon have a reason to go in the elevator? We’ve got less than 10 minutes until show time,” Courtney fretted.

“Yes, she’s going to a meeting I told her was pushed forward by an hour.”

Willam abruptly stopped at a random door in the hallway and Courtney almost ran into the back of her. Knocking on the door three times quickly, then once, then twice more, they stood in silence for a moment before it suddenly opened upon hearing the secret knock.

“Come in,” Adore hissed, ushering the two blondes into the dark room before sticking her head out the doorway to check they weren’t seen. She slipped a broom between the handles to lock out anyone trying to walk in on them before turning to the women and rubbing her hands together. “Whose excited?”

“Me!” Willam shouted, before noticing the many screens displaying the live security footage of all the cameras around their building. “Whoa, this is some FBI shit.”

“Here are the elevator ones,” Adore said, sitting down in the hot seat with the controls in front of her while Willam and Courtney stood on either side.

“Cool,” Courtney said, noticing how they had multiple angels inside just one elevator. “Is there any sound?”

“Unfortunately not,” Adore said. “But I can give you a copy of their footage if you want to analyse it later."

"That’d actually be quite cool,” Courtney said. “Kind of illegal, but cool.”

“Oh my god,” Willam pointed at one monitor, “is that Sharon? She’s in. The bat is in position.”

Adore’s fingers flew across the keyboard, programming only Sharon’s elevator to be able to stop at Alaska’s floor.

“Is there a camera on Alaska’s level? How will we know she’s ready?” Courtney said, already biting one of her nails.

“There isn’t one, so we’ll just have to see,” Adore said.

The three of them sat in silence as Sharon’s elevator descended one level, then another, then another. Courtney checked her watch.

“6 minutes passed 2,” she mumbled, suddenly feeling like this was all for nothing. There was a huge chance Alaska could have been held up in the office and would miss Sharon entirely. In a weird way, Courtney would feel like it was her fault if she failed to get her boss in the right place at the right time.

Sharon’s elevator stopped at a floor.

Everyone peered in closer to look at the CCTV footage on the monitor.

“There she is!” exclaimed Courtney, pointing wildly as Alaska appeared on the screen.

“We can see,” Willam snapped as Courtney gripped her forearm with nervous excitement.

Alaska stepped into the elevator and flicked her long blonde hair over her shoulder as she pressed the button for the ground floor, not even acknowledging Sharon.

Willam’s heart pounded in her chest, and Courtney’s insanely tight hold on her arm wasn’t helping things. She tried not to think about why her cheeks were starting to heat up, or why when Courtney finally let go, she wished she hadn’t.

“God, Sharon didn’t even look up from her phone,” Willam seethed. “Why don’t people fucking look at each other anymore.”

To their dismay, Alaska started checking her phone too, leaving Courtney, Adore and Willam to stay engrossed at a monitor displaying two women frozen in place as they tapped away on their emails.

“A little emergency stop should distract them,” Willam said, wiggling her eyebrows. Even though she was a little nervous, she wasn’t going to pretend she didn’t love this feeling of playing Cupid — or God.

“So I’m good to press stop?” Adore asked, her finger hovering over the keyboard.

“Wait, whose that?” Courtney whispered as the doors parted on the 10th floor.

Willam anxiously ran her fingers through her hair as another person entered the elevator. They hadn’t factored in an unexpected character in this planned storyline.

“Oh, it’s just a delivery person,” Adore sighed in relief as a sizeable woman entered the elevator and placed two giant boxes on the floor.

“But it’s still a person,” Willam said in annoyance. “They can’t fall madly in love with a fat FedEx employee standing between them.”

“Willam,” Courtney said in disbelief as she shot her a glare, “that’s really rude.”

“She can’t hear me,” Willam muttered, rolling her eyes as Courtney turned back to the monitor. But a sting of rare embarrassment hit her as Courtney called her out. She didn’t mean to be such a bitch. She bit her lip, wanting to take it back.

“So can I hit the button?” Adore asked again, still confused but incredibly eager.

“No,” Courtney and Willam said in unison. The timing wasn’t right.

Adore hit the button.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Willam yelled.

“I thought you said yes!”

“We said NO you dipshit.”

“Willam,” Courtney scolded, even though she was thinking roughly the same thing.

The elevator came to an abrupt halt, its three passengers inside staggering slightly at the sharp motion.

Inside its metal walls, the trio of woman reacted.

“Did the elevator just stop?” Alaska asked, snapping her head up from her phone.

“Oh sweet mama no,” the delivery woman pleaded in a thick Southern accent. “I’m claustrophobic, I can’t do this.”

Both women looked at Sharon, who really didn’t know what to say. Yes, it was obvious the elevator had stopped, and she couldn’t do anything to help the claustrophobia.

“Um, it’ll be fine,” Sharon attempted.

She would have added more, but the only thought bouncing around Sharon’s mind was how beautiful the blonde opposite her was, and how her tight dress fit her curvy figure perfectly. Had she been in the elevator this whole time?

Back in the control room, the mood was plummeting fast.

“Make it go again, nothing is happening,” Courtney sighed, watching as her dreams of being Cupid were dashed as she observed all three women just stand around awkwardly and not fall in love.

Adore hit some keys before they watched the passengers become visibly relieved when the elevator began to work again.

“If FedEx doesn’t exit in the next four, now three, floors, we’ve completely lost our chance,” Willam sighed, her arms already crossed in defeat.

Suddenly, the elevator halted again.

“Adore!” Willam exclaimed.

“I didn’t press anything!” Adore held up her hands, which had been placed on her lap.

It was true, she hadn’t.

Her fingers quickly flew across her keyboard in a bid to fix the situation, but nothing worked.

“I think it’s actually broken down this time,” Adore said softly.

Inside the elevator, the women began to sweat – however, some more than others.

“It’s stuck again,” Alaska commented, instinctively grabbing the handrail for support as it came to yet another sudden halt.

“Yep,” Sharon replied shortly.

“Oh no no no no no no no,” the delivery woman said, shaking her hands and moving from foot to foot as if she had to go to the bathroom. “I can’t do this, no sir no ma’am.”

“It’s okay,” Alaska said calmly, glancing at the woman’s ID tag on her belt and attempting to sooth the situation. “Uh, Eureka, is it? It’s okay, we’re going to be fine, we just need to—“

“Can everybody just calm down!” Eureka yelled, looking to the ceiling as if it was the heavens above. “Just calm down!”

Sharon and Alaska exchanged a glance.

“I’m just going to press this emergency option,” Alaska said slowly as she reached passed a now hyperventilating Eureka to press the button.

In the control room, Courtney, Adore and Willam jumped as a red siren on the wall with the words ELEVATOR EMERGENCY painted above it buzzed once, alerting them to a mishap they were clearly going to ignore.

“I’m going to call 911,” Sharon said, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she tapped away on her phone. “That’ll be much more effective.”

“How?” Alaska said in annoyance as she detected attitude in the other woman’s voice. Why was this chick making it a competition for who could save them the fastest? “That button is literally for this exact situation. And there’s no reception in here.”

“Is it hot in here or is it just me?” Eureka gasped, fanning herself with her hand.

“Maintenance is some young college drop out who only comes to fix things after she’s had her fifth cigarette on her four break,” Sharon scoffed, bringing her phone to her ear. “Trust me, we’re not getting out anytime soon.”

Alaska could only blink in response.

“It’s too hot in here,” Eureka gasped, pulling at her brown uniform as it clung to her skin.

“Wh— what are you doing?” Alaska stammered as Eureka practically popped a button off in a bid to undress.

In the control room, three intrigued faces leaned in closer to the monitor, watching the plot of their silent film go completely off script.

“What… in the ever-loving fuck… is she doing?” Willam asked as they watched the FedEx employee disrobe.

“I… I can’t believe this,” Courtney said in astonishment as Adore tried and failed to hold back laughter.

“Now I know why God abandoned us,” Willam wheezed with laughter, absolutely perplexed at the scene unfolding on the screen. “You create humans and this is the shit that happens!”

Back in the elevator, Sharon and Alaska could only watch.

“I gotta get out of these clothes, try and calm down so I don’t have one of those panic attacks,” Eureka said, moving to sit on the floor as Alaska and Sharon stepped back into opposite corners of the small elevator. Alaska didn’t know where to look as Eureka exposed herself, stripping down to just her beige bra as she struggled to peel her overalls down her legs from her spot on the floor.

“This is how all good horror movies start,” Sharon commented, a smirk on her lips. “The elevator could just drop and kill us all.”

“Hey!” Alaska snapped as Eureka wailed from her spot on the floor. “You’re not helping.”

“And neither is that button of yours,” Sharon replied, cocking an eyebrow at a now speechless Alaska.

They stared each other down.

Alaska loved the colour of this other woman’s lipstick. It was a deep, velvety burgundy that looked so striking against her pale skin and black hair. If she wasn’t such a bitch, Alaska would have asked her where it was from. If Eureka wasn’t here, she would have pressed her against the wall and kissed her hard.

“There’s no reception here,” Sharon huffed, finally dropping her phone into her handbag.

“I said that before,” Alaska said.

“No you didn’t?” Sharon lied, wondering how much she could rile up this hot blonde.

“Oh my god! Yes I did!” Alaska exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.

A lot, apparently.

“I’m gonna throw up,” Eureka announced, rocking on the floor slightly.

Everyone froze.

“Don’t you dare,” Sharon ordered as Alaska instinctively stepped back and placed her hand over her mouth.

“Someone needs to rub my back,” Eureka whined, gesturing to her back which was coated in a sheen of panic induced sweat. “It might not stop the nausea, but it might help.”

Sharon looked at Alaska. Alaska looked at Sharon.

In an instant, Alaska began repeatedly pressing the Emergency Assist button like her life depended on it while Sharon dialed the police again, ready to throttle the first person she saw if they ever made it out of this cursed elevator.

Back in the control room, the assistants made the final call.

“Alright, that’s it!” Willam exclaimed, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “This is a mess, get ‘em out!”

The emergency siren buzzed loudly each time Alaska forcefully pressed that button, lighting up the room with a bright red flashing light that never gave up.

“I feel like I’m in hell,” Courtney yelled, her hands over her ears.

“Hell is that elevator,” Adore joked.

She jumped from her seat, slapped on her utility belt and grabbed her toolbox before saluting the women and leaving to fix the elevator.

“Jesus,” Willam laughed, rubbing her neck as she paced around the small control room. “Well apart from it not working out at all, that was kinda fun.”

She turned and saw Courtney flop into Adore’s empty seat, her face looking as defeated as her slumped posture.

“Hey,” Willam said softly, using the toe of her electric blue stiletto to gently nudge Courtney’s wheely office chair. “We tried.”

Courtney shrugged her shoulders.

“I just had such high hopes!” Courtney finally exclaimed. “I wanted them to fall in love! I wanted to see sparks fly! And instead it just looks like they fought.”

Willam didn’t argue. Sharon had that cocky look on her face Willam knew all too well, and Alaska’s up-tight body language didn’t appear positive at all. But even though Courtney’s idea didn’t go as planned, it still happened.

“Look, I know fireworks didn’t go off and they didn’t grind up against a wall—“

“Willam—“

“Oh come on, I wanted that to happened, don’t act like you didn’t too.”

Courtney didn’t debate it.

“But your plan still worked. Sure, they might not be in love yet, but at least they know each other, which was a hell of a lot better than where they were 10 minutes ago.“

Courtney was silent for a moment as she contemplated.

“Yeah,” She said slowly. “That’s true. And like, this doesn’t mean our work is over. We can just try something different, or plant more seeds, or arrange more plans.”

“Exactly,” Willam smiled, watching as Courtney slowly got her positive attitude back.

“Wait look,” Willam said suddenly, spotting something over Courtney’s shoulder. There on the monitor was Adore slowly appearing on the screen as she pried the elevator doors apart from where it was stuck on Level 5.

They laughed as they watched Sharon clap and Alaska bounce on her toes as the doors were opened. Moving to look over at Sharon, Alaska smiled at her before tucking a piece of hair behind her ear and looking down, just as Sharon glanced over at her.

“Oh my GOD did you see that?” Willam yelled as Courtney squealed.

“Yes!”

“That was a smile!”

“And a hair tuck!”

“That was something!”

Courtney couldn’t help herself. She pulled Willam into a hug, who hugged her back just as tightly, euphoria bubbling through them at the sight of a shy smile. They bounced on their toes, before Courtney broke the hug first to keep looking at the screen, catching the moment their bosses finally escaped the elevator as everyone involved applauded.

Suddenly, their phones vibrated at the same time.

Alaska/Boss: Courtney I just got stuck in the elevator!!! I need a Xanax ASAP :((

Big Daddy: Willam you won’t believe the fucking shit I just went through holy fuck

“Well I call that a success,” Willam said after their both quickly tapped out a reply.

“Me too,” Courtney smiled. Caught up in the excitement of the moment, Courtney swallowed her nerves and pushed forward.

“Would you like… well I mean if we’re not working tonight, which will probably will be, but do you wanna get drinks tonight? I don’t know, I just think we need to celebrate, and also plan stage two of this whole thing.” She could have said it more gracefully, but at least she said it.

Willam looked up from her phone. “Oh we totally should! I can’t do tonight though, I’ve got plans with my girlfriend, it’s our 6-month. Next week we’re definitely continuing this though!"

Courtney could only nod along, not really taking in anything Willam was saying after the word girlfriend. Willam’s phone buzzed again.

“I gotta run, Sharon needs me. We’ll keep each other posted, yeah?”

Courtney just nodded. “Yep!”

After Willam left, Courtney sunk back down into the chair and didn’t move, instead staring at nothing while trying to understand what she was feeling. She refused to accept that it felt like her heart was breaking. That was entirely too dramatic, even for her standards. It was never in a place to break, but right now it kind of just felt like it had… popped. Like a red heart shaped balloon gently rising before Willam had swiftly exploded it right in front of her eyes with a sharp ‘girlfriend’ shaped needle. It was a dumb crush, and the vibes she had gotten from Willam, which only further fueled her little infatuation further, was all something she made up in her head.

It was a dumb crush, Courtney told herself again.

“Here we are! Today’s deliveries, tomorrow’s box office hits,” Willam said in a sarcastically cheerful manner as she pushed a small trolley full of paper into Sharon’s office and towards the couch where her boss was currently reclining. Her high heels were kicked off and a half finished vodka soda sat on her coffee table.

Every single day Sharon was delivered stacks of screenplays that Willam would organize and present to her. Every single day Willam was able to hold hours, weeks, months of people’s hard work in her hands, their hopes and dreams there in black and white, and every single day Sharon tore them to shreds.

Sharon slid her glasses on and peered at the title of the one on top. “The House. Let me guess, a white family moves into a haunted house they know is haunted and are surprised when they start getting haunted.” She opened the first page to skim-read the synopsis. “Correct!”

Grabbing the entire screenplay, Sharon promptly threw it into the fireplace next to her, almost choking the flames before they bounced back and roared to life against the hundreds of pages.

As Sharon grabbed another, Willam sat down on one of the plush chairs opposite her and began tabulating data, writing ‘GOOD’ ‘MAYBE’ or ‘FIRE’ next to titles considered for just today alone.

After 5 minutes of silent reading, Sharon posed a question without looking up.

“Have you ever seen a blonde in this building?”

Willam froze.

Sharon was still looking at the page in front of her, but Willam wondered if she had even read a word in the 5 minutes they had been sitting there.

“Yes, I’m a blonde myself,” Willam joked, her heart racing at what she thought Sharon was asking. Was she asking about Alaska? Had their plan actually worked?

“You’re not a blonde, you look like a My Little Pony doll threw up on your hair while it was retouching your roots. That’s why Aquaria’s always grabbing at it when she sees you,” Sharon tried not to smile.

“I’ve seen some blondes… you’ll have to be more specific,” Willam probed. Even if Sharon wasn’t going to mention Alaska, Willam loved the idea of at least someone grabbing her lonely bosses attention.

Sharon pressed her lips together, before suddenly reciting every feature of someone who looked impressively like Alaska.

“She’s tall, a bit taller than me. Really skinny, but like not too skinny, I don’t know, she looks like a good weight, you know what I mean? Curvy, but like that’s not the point. Really plushy lips, I remember because they’re just as fake as mine. Gorgeous, has these really dark eyes, really fashionable. She was holding a magazine. She kind of drags out her words and while you’d think that’d be annoying, I can’t get her voice out of my head…”

Willam screamed internally.

“Oh! Did you say blonde before? I think that’s Alaska Thunderfuck, Editor of Her, this gay fashion mag for women. She started it all, I think. Really cool chick. Their office is in our building. Why do you ask?”

Sharon could only blink in response to the wave of valuable information.

“I think that’s who I could stuck in the elevator with,” Sharon said almost breathlessly before she cleared her throat. “Get me her number… wait actually, her email… I need… to thank her because it was her idea to press the maintenance button, and they saved us in the end.”

Willam couldn’t fucking wait to tell Courtney.

“Sure,” Willam replied, calming rising from her seat and leaving Sharon’s office. Once seated at her desk, her legs tapped against the floor, too excited to remain still. She messaged Courtney instantly.

Willam: SHARON JUST ASKED FOR ALASKA’S EMAIL BECAUSE SHE WANTS TO SAY THANK U FOR PRESSING THE BUTTON I’M DYING WE DID IT

Courtney: Yay!

Willam frowned at the short, arguably lackluster response, but Courtney was probably just busy. She passed Alaska’s email to Willam, who passed it along to Sharon via a Post It note 5 minutes later.

“What are you gonna say?” Willam asked, not retreating from Sharon’s office.

“Thank you for pushing that button,” Sharon snapped. “Duh.”

“Do you want me to help you draft it?” Willam asked eagerly.

Sharon frowned at her from her curled up spot on the couch, her phone in one hand and her vodka soda in another, though it shook slightly. Willam just knew Sharon was nervous.

“No,” Sharon said quietly. “I’m fine, you can go.”

Willam turned on her heel and existed the office, only to open Sharon’s emails on her own computer. She had all of Sharon’s passwords, they both knew this, but a level of trust was there that meant Willam only went into her inbox for emergency purposes only.

This was an emergency.

Almost half an hour later, a message appeared in Sharon’s Sent folder.

To: Alaska Thunderfuck

From: Sharon Needles

Subject: Thank You

Hi Alaska,

It’s Sharon, one of the women who was caught in the elevator before (not from FedEx). I just wanted to thank you for pressing the emergency assist button earlier. I didn’t think it would have worked, so without you who knows if we’d still be in there.

Warm regards,

Sharon Needles

CEO of Scream Queens

Willam gritted her teeth at that fact that Sharon hadn’t grabbed herself by the balls and just asked Alaska out. But still – baby steps.

“What do you know about Sharon Needles?” Alaska asked after she had called Courtney into her office.

Courtney’s deflated mood went on hold for a moment while her heart rose in her chest.

“Sharon? Sharon Needles?” Courtney stalled. She barely knew anything about Sharon, but she was about to sell the absolute shit out of her. Willam had just screenshotted Sharon’s email and sent it to her, so she hoped and prayed she knew where this was heading. “I know she’s some CEO of some big film company… like some queer horror film company… kind of like Her… but for films.”

“I get the concept,” Alaska hurried her along. “It turns out that’s who I was stuck in the elevator with.”

“Oh my god! Wow!” Courtney exclaimed, as if Alaska had just had a run in with Barack Obama. Too much, she told herself.

“Yeah… anyway,” Alaska continued. “She just emailed me saying thank you because I was the one who saved us, and I thought that was really sweet of her to do… so what I’m wondering is… is it too forward to ask to grab a drink with her?”

Courtney grinned.

“Absolutely not.”

“I just don’t want to seem too like… desperate or too much too soon or like weird?” Alaska shifted in her seat, visibly anxious.

“Well,” Courtney persuaded, tapping her chin with her fingers as she was thinking long and hard, “I think the fact that she went through the effort to track you down, find your email, and personally tell you thank you means she has some sort of interest in you… So I don’t think she would be blindsided at all. I think she would love to grab a drink with you.”

Alaska pursed her plumped lips and tapped her fake acrylic nails against her desk. Courtney didn’t breathe as her boss contemplated her words.

“Alright,” Alaska decided, inhaling deeply. “But Courtney, can you… help me write it?"

Touched at the offer, Courtney beamed. “Of course.”

When Courtney returned home, her mood had risen since the 2pm elevator fiasco. Her and Alaska had drafted the perfectly casual but to the point email asking Sharon out. Alaska hadn’t sent it yet, though, wanting to sleep on the offer as if to not seem over eager. Courtney had tried to push her into it, but also feared scared Alaska entirely. While that factor was annoying, it was miles ahead of where she predicted they’d end up when she woke up this morning. Sure, the elevator scheme wasn’t how she thought they’d get there, but they did it.

Her heart skipped a beat when she thought about the control room from earlier, which will forever be tainted with Willam’s revelation of a girlfriend. Why was it still bothering her? The thought was ripped from Courtney’s mind though when she entered her living room, a romantic scene of candles, pillows on the floor and rose petals disorientating her.

“What’s all this?” Courtney asked, before spotting Farrah with her arms around her girlfriend Aja.

Upon seeing Courtney, the two girls broke apart and turned to face her, their cheeks wet with tears of happiness.

“Courtney!” Farrah cried. “Aja just proposed to me!”

She held up her left hand, showcasing two pink little gems on either side of a beautiful diamond that Courtney instantly wondered how Aja could afford. Immediately dropping her late night groceries, Courtney gasped and threw her arms around her roommate, before pulling Aja into the hug as well.

“Oh my god! That’s incredible! Congratulations!” Courtney gushed, admiring Farrah’s ring and asking about every detail, and also requesting to have a glass of the champagne current going around between the two of them.

After over an hour of catching up and celebrating, Courtney retired to her bedroom and crawled under the covers after her shower. The entire day played through her mind as her body refused to fall asleep.

She thought about Willam’s fiery dress against her pristine office, meeting Adore in the graffiti filled alleyway, the wink Willam threw over her shoulder. She remembered the code name of koala Willam had given her, and how hard she had laughed when Courtney called her a peacock. She thought about the control room, the monitors, and how Willam had squeezed her just as hard when they hugged and it was Courtney who had to be the one to pull away first, because Willam was making no motion of letting go. She thought about Willam and her girlfriend, Alaska’s smile and hair tuck, Sharon’s email, Alaska’s desire for a date, Willam’s wink, the engagement, Willam’s girlfriend, Willam.

Courtney wanted to cry in frustration; she just wanted her mind to turn off. Grabbing her phone, she searched for a distraction, going through all her apps before finding herself on Tinder. Left… left… left, left, left, definitely left. It was the same old story. Courtney was about to give up, turn her phone off and try to go to sleep, when her final swipe of the night actually showed potential and caught her attention.

Andrew, 28

I have a British accent, need I say more?

Courtney rolled her eyes at the sentence, but he was without a doubt the most attractive person she’d ever seen on Tinder. Brown hair, blue eyes, Prince Charming jaw line.

Feeling like everyone else in her life was in love except her, Courtney swiped right.

#rosie #playing cupid #cisgirl au #fluff #adore delano #courtney act #alaska thunderfuck #sharon needles #aja #farrah moan #rpdr fanfiction #witney #shalaska #lesbian au

36 notes · View notes

5hfanfiction · 7 years

Text

you're like a piece of art (you need to be nailed against a wall)

A/N:

Part of a one shot book on wattpad, at jaureguicabello5eva

–

Camila doesn’t know what she’s looking at exactly. Actually, she does know what she’s looking at, she just doesn’t understand the big deal. Like, it’s a bunch of colorful squares and rectangles? She thinks she’s absolutely capable of painting that, and she doesn’t even consider herself an artist, so yeah, pay her whatever they’re paying these “abstract” artists. Whatever that means.

God, she feels uncultured as fuck, she thinks as she takes a sip of her third(?) glass of champagne.

Camila’s spending her Friday night in a too-tight red dress at the Museum of Modern Art in New York instead of catching up on sleep like she had planned. The museum is holding an exclusive exhibit for the weekend that features several works from known artists around the world. Not that Camila actually knows any of them.

Dinah, her best friend since coming out of the womb, had scored passes for the event from the sister-in-law of her cousin’s best friend’s girlfriend? Camila lost track after sister-in-law to be honest. Dinah knows way too many people, and she’s related to like half of California, so who knows?

Anyway, Dinah had gotten these passes and had planned to surprise her ex-boyfriend, who is the broody, artist, mysterious, lying, cheating, S.O.B. type apparently. After finding her ex in a very compromising position with some wench in their previously shared apartment, Dinah had immediately broken it off and proceeded to get over him by getting under as many people as she could, until she got over that too, and now she’s sort of just wallowing in self-pity.

So, Camila, because she’s the greatest best friend in the world, naturally, offered to go with her to the stupid exhibit anyway in hopes of cheering up her best friend, and maybe you’ll even get lucky with some hot-shot artist who makes hundreds of thousands of dollars painting blobs, Dinah!

Well, now she’s kind of regretting her decision. She loves Dinah, she really does, but is everyone who attends exhibits just naturally broody and boring or does she just have to widen her perspective?

–

Lauren is in heaven. She thinks this must be where starving artists lay their brushes down and go to die. She’s surrounded by incredible pieces that range from hundreds of years old to decades to within the last few years. There are pieces from your classic Van Gogh and Warhol, to newer pieces by Philippe Parreno, and her personal favorite, Weiwei. She’s convinced she’d actually died and gone to artist paradise.

She’d gotten a hold of a pass for this exclusive exhibit from Normani, her best friend, and who, by the way, was already Lauren’s favorite person in the world before she’d given her the pass, but now undoubtedly and solely owns the green-eyed girl’s heart.

And because the universe is being extra kind today, the exhibit just so happens to have Piet Mondrian’s Tableau I on loan from Museum Ludwig in Germany.

Lauren is absolutely ecstatic. She’s been having kind of an artist’s block lately and there’s nothing like one of the greatest pieces in abstract history to inspire her. Mondrian’s Tableau I is a math-based geometric perfection that brings colors and lines and absolute arithmetic precision to life and Lauren can’t wait to see it in person.

She’s majoring in architecture [A/N: sorry I keep writing Lauren as an architect/aspiring architect lol] though if things were up to her, she would have majored in fine arts with a focus on painting and drawing. She’s a great painter and she’s not too bad at digital design either, but her passion lies in drawing. Give her a pencil and anything can be her sketchpad.

She’s studying architecture because it incorporates her love for design and drawing and you need to major in something realistic, Lauren. There’s a reason they’re called “starving” artists. Do you really want to starve your future husband and kids?

Has it been mentioned that her mother can be a bit overbearing? Well she is, and so Lauren is going to let her mom have her way because as suffocating as her mom can be, the dark-haired girl does love her with everything that she has. But since she’s hell bent on getting some say in the matter, she’s also minoring in fine arts with a focus on, yup, drawing and painting.

She needs inspiration for her project in her Drawing II class as well as for her Advanced Urban Design class and thinks Tableau I is the best of both worlds. Some people might think his work is just rectangles and squares but those are probably the same people who think pineapple on pizza is okay, which it’s not.

Also, her mother doesn’t know it, but she’s pretty sure she’s not going to end up with a husband anyway. Not when she’s just laid her eyes on the most beautiful person? goddess? God’s gift to gay women? she’s ever seen.

Lauren is on her way to where she knows the painting is displayed when she spots a brunette squinting at Mondrian’s work. One of her hands has delicate, slender fingers wrapped around an almost-empty flute, while the other is worrying the bottom of her luscious lip.

Normani who? This woman owns Lauren’s heart now as far as she knows.

Lauren is your typical artist/aspiring architect so of course, she carries a sketchbook and pencil everywhere she goes. She pulls them both out and sits on a bench not too far, but not too close to pretty, brown eyes either. She doesn’t want to seem creepy, even though she is being creepy.

Lauren forgets the world around her as she gets completely absorbed in trying to capture the beauty in front of her as best as she can. She needs to capture how this girl’s long lashes curve up in the most tantalizing way and the delicate way they fall over her mesmerizing eyes when she blinks. She needs to properly portray the gentle slope of her nose, the curve of her mouth when her desirable, full lips smile, and the defined cheeks and sharp jawline that flank her entire face.

And that ass though.

She’s finishing up on outlining how her hair falls perfectly down her curved spine when she looks up and the object of her affection is gone.

“Shit,” she whispers to herself. “Where did she go?”

“I’m right here,” Normani says as she takes a seat next her. “I thought you’d be glued to an art piece by now, Laur” Normani chuckles. “You were so excited to come here and I find you just sat here, not even appreciating the work around you?” Normani clicks her tongue.

“Whatcha got there anyway,” she asks as she leans over and tries to see what’s got her friend busy.

Lauren scrambles to close her sketchbook and answers, “Nothing, just- um,” she struggles to look for an excuse that’s not I was drawing this pretty girl I saw. “Just working on a piece for my class,” she finally says. “All these pieces have given me the right inspiration,” she says with a bright smile and a thumbs up.

“Uh huh,” Normani says skeptically. “Anyway, I have to get back to finish this thing that’s due tomorrow. Did you want to leave with me or do you wanna stay for a bit?” Normani asks her friend.

Lauren takes one last desperate look around the museum for any sign of the mystery girl, and finally gives up when she sees none. “I’ll go with you I guess,” she answers despondently.

–

It’s been two weeks since Lauren saw Ms. Brown Eyes and she still can’t get her out of her head. The girl’s been hounding her thoughts, partly because she feels frustrated that she can’t finish her piece, and partly because, well, pretty girls tend to occupy her mind a lot.

She’s rushing out of the Starbucks on campus to get to her design class on time for once when she spots the same wavy, brown locks that she’d been trying to re-create on paper, sitting on one of the outside tables. She guesses it won’t make a difference now if she’s late to class one more time.

She goes here! Of course she goes here!

When Lauren sees the girl get up to leave, she immediately follows her before she realizes what she’s doing. Stalking is probably not the way to get her point across to the girl, although, she’s not really sure what to say to her.

Hey, I saw you at the museum and then I started drawing you without your permission, but you left before I was able to finish, so do you mind just posing for me for a bit. Also, you’re really pretty. My name is Lauren and I’m an idiot.

That doesn’t sound like it would get her a very desirable outcome.

So, naturally, she proceeds to just follow the girl like the creep that she actually is and finds out that she’s taking a class in the BIOL. building around two-thirty on Thursdays. The stalking gets a bit out of hand and before Lauren realizes what’s happening, she’s basically got the girl’s schedule on three out of the five days of the week memorized.

In her defense, she really just wants to get a few more details on the girl’s face so she can finish the drawing. She’s an excellent artist, but she’s also a perfectionist, and her memory just isn’t doing the girl justice.

“Mani,” she catches up to the girl one afternoon. “I saw her again but she took a different route to the CHEM building today, and so I still don’t have enough details for my sketch,” she pouts. Lauren has given up on keeping the girl a secret from her best friend and since that cat got out of the bag, it’s all she ever talks about now.

Normani rolls her eyes and tells her, “You are an actual stalker. Just go up to the dang girl, geez. I’ve never seen you have so much trouble talking to a girl.”

“She’s not just some girl, Mani” Lauren insists.

“So you think the best course of action is to never speak to her,” Normani deadpans.

“Alright, fine” Lauren responds. “I’ll talk to her tonight. After her night class in the physics lab building” she decides with a determined nod of her head.

Normani looks at her like she’s crazy and shakes her head, “I’m not even gonna say anything about how that sounds.” Lauren rolls her eyes but slings an arm over the other girl’s shoulder. “I think I’m in love, Mani” she sighs dramatically, putting a hand over her heart as the other girl laughs and pushes her away.

–

So the whole coming up to and talking to mystery girl plan has totally fallen through. Lauren’s not sure how she got to where she is but that’s not important at the moment. Right now, she’s truly reached absolute stalker level because she’s currently following her in the dark to what Lauren assumes is her apartment on campus. Every time she tried to approach her, the green-eyed girl’s nerves got the best of her and she ended up psyching herself out. Now, the window in which it’s acceptable to approach a stranger about possibly drawing them has passed and Lauren is stuck.

She’s so lost in her thoughts she didn’t realize the girl she was following is no longer in front of her. She takes a few steps forward and when she passes an opening to an alley, the mystery girl jumps out in front of her with her hands holding something pointed towards the dark-haired girl and screams,

“I HAVE MACE! STAND BACK” the girl screams and Lauren can’t help but think even her voice is sexy, and wow she’s about to be sprayed.

“No! Wait,” Lauren pleads, raising both her arms up. “I’m not going to hurt you I swear” she tries to convince the girl.

Camila is a bit taken aback by the girl in front of her. When she first realized she was being followed, she expected some buff, tattoos-in-the-face, hoodlum, who may or may not be armed with a knife or – or like nunchucks (she’s never robbed anyone before, she doesn’t know which types of weapons are appropriate).

Anyway, she wasn’t expecting this- this, beautiful human being. God, those eyes are mesmerizing, she thinks. But, back to the topic at hand.

“Okay green eyes, I’m gonna need you to explain yourself and if you so much as make a move,” she warns, “I’m going to spray you.”

Lauren keeps her hands up and decides to just rip the band-aid off. This situation cannot get any more out of hand so she thinks it’s best to just come clean.

She takes a deep breath and says, “Okay, well, I saw you at MOMA a few weeks ago and I was just so taken by your beauty and I thought you were the prettiest piece of art there so I started drawing you for my class, but I lost you before I had the chance to finish, so I started to sort of follow you around? You know, to add details to my sketch but it’s so hard when you’re constantly moving, so now I have this unfinished piece and it’s due tomorrow and I was wondering if you would mind posing for me? So I can finish my drawing?” Lauren rushes her words all in one breath. “How was your physics lab by the way?” she asks with a nervous chuckle.

Camila tries to process all the information and when she does, she can’t help but flush red. This gorgeous human being called her pretty? And she wants to draw her? She’s not sure if she’s creeped out or endeared.

She decides on the latter.

She slowly brings her hands down and puts her mace away. Lauren relaxes at that and throws her a meek smile. “I mean, it’s probably a hundred percent not safe because you just admitted to stalking me and you’re a complete stranger, but you’re really pulling off the whole awkward-but-cute thing you got going on, so….” Camila trails, putting a finger to her chin and pretending to think.

“…sure,” Camila concedes. “I’ll pose for you.”

“YES!” Lauren exclaims and then clears her throat. “I mean, thank you so much,” she says, her cheeks flushed. “My name is Lauren by the way.”

“I’m Camila,” the younger girl answers back while trying to contain a smile, extending one of her hands.

“Great, where do you want to do it?” Lauren asks after shaking hands with her. Then she realizes what that sounds like and backtracks quickly, “I mean do the drawing, for my piece, not like, do it in that way – I mean not that you aren’t, you know, attractive - because you totally are, and I’m not assuming you’re even into gir–”

“Oh my gosh, Lauren. Calm down,” Camila says amidst her laughter while putting a hand on Lauren’s arm to calm the girl down. The touch is doing things to Lauren’s body and she feels a spark of heat travel from where Camila is touching her to the rest of her body, sprinkling a comforting kind of warmth in its wake.

Lauren flushes a deep red that’s accentuated by her light features and rubs the back of her neck.

Once Camila thinks the girl has gone back to her normal pale color, she answers Lauren’s question, “We can do it at my apartment, so at least if you turn out to be a sociopath, my roommate, Dinah, will hopefully get back to the apartment and find evidence of what you might have done,” she winks and Lauren is blushing again in no time.

On their walk to Camila’s apartment, Lauren says “Well if I were really crazy and was planning on killing you, I think I would be called a ‘psychopath,’” she explains. Camila furrows her eyebrows and Lauren elaborates,

“Both obviously have problems regarding their conscience and the way they think, but psychopaths tend to seem like well-adjusted members of society. They can even have charming personalities and hold high-paying jobs, like, they could be doctors,” Lauren explains.

“Sociopaths, on the other hand, are a bit more obvious in their behavior and they tend to be antisocial, and since you think I’m “awkward-but-cute” which I’m going to interpret as subtly charming, I would be a ‘psychopath,’” she concludes.

Camila looks at her and says, “Yeah, your knowledge of this is not helping your case in convincing me that you’re not out to kill me.”

Lauren looks back at her and shakes her head, “I was just clarifying you know,” she says nervously. It’s like she’s lost all of her ability to function socially around this girl. “I swear, I’m not usually this weird,” she responds with a nervous chuckle.

“I hope not,” Camila winks and continues to walk on.

Once they’re in the apartment, Lauren is wringing her hands nervously and Camila raises an eyebrow, “Is something wrong?”

“No, I just-” Lauren sighs.

“Not to push my luck or anything, but since we’re here and you’re willing to pose, do you mind if I start the drawing over? Like the one I’ve been working on is kind of hard to finalize because I’ve had so many viewpoints of your face. So, if it’s okay, would you be willing to pose for a whole, new drawing instead?” Lauren asks nervously.

“Well, since we’re here anyway,” Camila thinks about it. “Sure,” she finishes with a smile.

Laurens spends a couple of hours perfecting her drawing. Well, she tries to perfect it anyway. She doesn’t think it’s possible for anyone to capture Camila in a way that does her beauty justice. Now that Camila isn’t constantly moving and because she doesn’t have to draw from a distance, she does a better job at highlighting some of her features.

When she showed Camila the finished product, Camila had gasped into her hand and praised her talent so much that Lauren was convinced the blush on her cheeks was going to be permanent.

Now, they find themselves watching Black Mirror on Netflix and no, they’re not Netflix and Chilling. They’re actually just watching.

Lauren is in the middle of a passionate rant about the dangers of social media especially bullying in social media after watching an episode where literally hundreds of thousands of people died because of it, when Camila catches herself staring at the girl’s beauty.

Lauren is obviously pretty on the outside, but after spending a few hours with her and speaking with her about her passions and views on life, Camila is convinced maybe that the saying about beauty coming from within is true because Lauren is the embodiment of beautiful. She’s breathtakingly exquisite without reservation.

“Sorry, I’m ranting,” Lauren says with a weak smile.

“No, I think it’s great. I think you’re great,” Camila responds without thinking.

“Um, thanks” Lauren says. Then, she doesn’t know where she gets the courage, but she asks anyway,

“Would you like to have coffee or something, some time this week, my treat” Lauren asks shyly. “You know, it’s the least I could do to thank you for saving my assignment and not calling the police,” she says with a nervous chuckle.

“Are you asking me out,” Camila asks teasingly.

“I mean we can do something inside,” Lauren responds cheekily.

“Oh my gosh, you’re a dork,” Camila says mid-laugh. Lauren thinks she’d gladly shed her bad girl persona and be the biggest dork if it elicits laughs like this from Camila.

“It’s a date,” Camila says and Lauren’s heart soars.

Lauren is about to bid her goodbye when a loud clap of thunder, accompanied by a sudden downpour of rain and strong winds, sound from outside and reverberate through the apartment.

The girls jump and Camila says shakily, “Um, maybe you should stay the night? It’s late and it’s raining, I don’t want something bad to happen to you,” she explains. “Also, I’m not sure when Dinah is coming back, kinda depends on how her date goes.”

Lauren starts to refuse and says, “I don��t want to impose and-”

“Honestly, Lo. It’s fine. I’ll feel better knowing you’re safe,” she says with a genuine smile.

“Okay, I’ll take the couch,” Lauren concedes, the nickname catching her off-guard but sending another wave of pleasant warmth through her chest. She recognizes this feeling and she knows it’s way too early, but Camila’s soft smiles and genuine concern and just her overall presence is captivating Lauren in a way she’s not sure she has a chance to go against.

“No you can-,” Camila starts to protest.

“No, Camz,” Lauren says resolutely.

She shakes her head internally for letting the name she’s been calling Camila in her head all night slip out loud. “I’ve already asked too much from you, I’m not gonna take your bed too,” she says with a smile when it doesn’t look like Camila is going to object to the nickname.

“Okay,” Camila breathes out.

–

It’s about two in the morning when Lauren sleepily rubs her eyes as she hears movement from the far side of the couch. She jumps up from the couch in fright when she sees a figure standing above her and sighs in relief when she realizes it’s just Camila.

“Shit, Camila,” she gasps. “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” Camila answers quietly, her breath shaky.

“Is everything okay?” Lauren asks the younger girl.

“Um, it’s just that – I mean the thunder, you know, it hasn’t really stopped,” Camila answers weakly.

There’s a curve to Lauren’s mouth when she says, “Are you scared of thunderstorms?”

“What, no,” Camila says indignantly. “Of course, not. You’re scared of thunderstorms,” she throws back lamely.

Lauren raises an eyebrow and tries to stop herself from smiling.

“Okay fine, I’m scared of thunderstorms, so you’re either coming with me to bed or I’m joining you on the couch,” Camila dictates while crossing her arms.

Camila’s words spark a jolt of lightning through Lauren that starts from the base of her stomach and courses through her veins, spreading to her extremities, leaving her hot and bothered. She shakes the many different, dirty ways she’d made out of Camila asking her to bed and responds as steadily as she can, “Y-yeah, I’ll just join you. I don’t think we can fit in this couch anyway.”

She knows she wasn’t successful in hiding Camila’s effect on her when she spots the younger girl smirking at her shaky response from the corner of her eyes.

The heated atmosphere between them dies down when they settle in Camila’s bed. It’s not long before they start talking about anything and everything under the sun. They get in passionate debates about world issues and laugh at the silliness of toe socks.

Lauren, for her part, is decidedly continuing conversation between them because she recognizes a distraction is what Camila needs as she realizes early on that Camila’s fear of thunderstorms is pretty serious. Camila can tell that Lauren is fighting off sleep to keep her company and she feels herself falling.

It’s been less than twelve hours, Camila she thinks. There is no way she’s actually falling, right?

She goes to sleep free of the nightmares that usually plague her whenever there are thunderstorms and dreams about green eyes and white smiles and flushed cheeks instead.

–

The next morning, Camila walks out of her room and she is immediately jolted awake by the sight in front of her. Lauren had borrowed her clothes to sleep in and she’s wearing Camila’s favorite oversized hoodie that goes down to Lauren’s mid-thigh, sufficiently covering her short shorts and giving the illusion that she’s not wearing anything underneath.

Her messy hair is in a loose ponytail, highlight her widow’s peak and a few dark strands are framing her face. Her burrows are furrowed as her tongue is poking out between her teeth, seemingly in great concentration as she mixes what looks like pancake batter.

The sight is doing unhealthy things to her heart and even unhealthier things to the heat between her thighs.

She walks forward and makes her presence known. The green-eyed girl looks up and flashes her a smile that is threatening to combust her heart from where it’s trying to escape from her chest. The morning light catches Lauren’s eyes perfectly, making them the lightest green she’s ever seen them and highlighting the brown specks that are scattered right around her pupil. Camila’s heart needs a break, for crying out loud. How can anyone look this good at – Camila checks the time - seven in the morning?

She’s shaken out of her thoughts when she hears a raspy voice say, “Good morning, I hope you don’t mind me taking over your kitchen. I made you breakfast,” she says while gesturing to a plate that’s already made with eggs, bacon, toast, and pancakes. Okay, she seriously needs to stop.

Lauren’s voice sounds even sexier in the morning and Camila has to take a deep breath to collect herself. She’s about to respond when –

“Why thank you, kind stranger,” Dinah says, walking out of her own room and grabbing Camila’s toast from her plate, proceeding to stuff her mouth with it.

Camila scowls and Lauren just looks amused.

“Wow, none of Camila’s previous hook-ups have made it past midnight before,” Dinah says while chewing. “And here you are making her breakfast and shit,” she says chuckling.

Lauren feels unmistakable heat creep up her neck and into her cheeks as Camila throws a piece of bread at her best friend, “Dinah! We didn’t hook up. Jeez,” she says scandalized, not yet at least. “She’s a friend. I helped her with a project. Lauren, this is Dinah,” Camila says gesturing to her friend, “Dinah, my friend Lauren,” she says as she introduces the two.

“Hm-mhm,” Dinah says, eyeing the two skeptically. “We all know what ‘friend’ means,” she says with exaggerated air quotes.

–

Their coffee date goes well and they continue to find out new things that they like about each other. Lauren is as passionate about her art as she is about world issues and Camila somehow pulls off being goofy and sexy at the same time while still keeping up with Lauren in their many, varied conversations.

They’ve gone on a few dates when Camila asks Lauren to go on a road trip with her to Baltimore one weekend. Lauren says yes without even thinking about it. She thinks she’ll follow Camila to the ends of the earth if she asks her.

Camila is finishing up her make up on the dresser in their hotel room when Lauren comes out of the bathroom, already made up, except for her dress, which she’s holding in the front of her chest with two hands.

“Hey Camz,” she says as she turns around and flips her hair over her shoulder so Camila can have access to her back, “Can you zip me up please,” she asks with her head only half-turned. She misses the way Camila basically drools at all the exposed skin.

They’ve only been dating a couple weeks and haven’t gone further than heated make out sessions where Camila had snuck a couple gropes on a breast or two and Lauren had made herself familiar with expanse of skin that is Camila’s ass. But right now, Camila is seriously considering throwing away her plans and throwing Lauren to bed instead and telling her she won’t need clothes for the rest of the weekend.

She’s shaken out of her trance when Lauren’s voice floats through the air and addresses her, “Camz?”

“Oh, uh, sure,” she says as she stands up and goes behind Lauren. They make eye contact through the full body mirror in front of them and shoot each other meaningful smiles.

Camila steadies her shaking hands as she rests her left hand on Lauren’s hip and the other grabs the zipper near her lower back. She swallows hard and slowly pulls the zipper up, her knuckles grazing Lauren’s skin and leaving goose bumps in their wake. She hears a soft gasp from Lauren and she squeezes her hard on the hip. When she sees Lauren through the mirror closing her eyes with her red-painted lips slightly ajar, Camila leans forward, turning her head to face Lauren’s side and grazing her mouth on Lauren’s ear as she breathes out, “Can’t wait to help you of this later,” she husks as she gives Lauren one final squeeze and a quick, but deep kiss just below her ear.

Lauren turns around breathless and says, “I don’t care what the surprise is, I want you naked on this bed now.”

–

Camila should really get an award for having the world’s greatest self-control. After Lauren not so subtly expressed that she’d wanted to take Camila to bed, Camila had to power through and convince Lauren that the surprise is worth seeing.

Not very many people can defer such an offer from one Lauren Jauregui.

Lauren walks into the Baltimore Museum of Art and an energy of pure excitement courses through her as she looks around the exhibit. The museum had secured an exhibit from Ai Weiwei, Lauren’s absolute favorite contemporary artist. Weiwei is the perfect embodiment that showcases the intersectionality between Lauren’s two loves, art and activism. He uses his prominence to give voice to victims and decry faulty governments. He’s using a hundred percent of his profits from this specific exhibit to help the refugees in the Middle East.

The exhibit was pretty hard to get into and many other prominent artists and powerful figures had already secured VIP passes to this exclusive, one-night show months ahead, from what Lauren knows anyway. She looks at Camila and her heart soars at the way she’s looking back. Surrounded by magnificent art and Camila is looking at her like she’s the central piece.

“How?” she asks quietly, Lauren’s eyes stuck on Camila’s.

Camila shrugs her shoulders and says, “Pulled a few strings. I knew some people so…” she trails off when Lauren keeps looking at her like she had brought the moon to her.

“Thank you,” Lauren says sincerely squeezing Camila’s hand in hers.

“Anything for my girl,” she says with a with a wide smile.

–

After spending a couple hours in the exhibit, Camila finds Lauren in front of Weiwei’s Odyssey, a wallpaper piece that covers an entire wall on the far side of the gallery. The piece depicts the struggles of refugees in the Middle East in an ancient art style in which the characters in the piece are drawn as if they would have been in ancient times, on earth ware clay (Shaw, A. (2017) “Lest we forget, Ai Weiwei’s first show in Turkey is a meditation on refugee crisis. The Art Newspaper) [A/N: I still don’t know how citations work].

Camila comes up behind her and gently wraps her slender arms around Lauren’s midsection, laying her chin on the other girl’s shoulder.

“Do you like your surprise,” she whispers softly.

A fond smile forms on Lauren’s red lips. “I love it,” she says turning her head slightly. “I don’t even remember mentioning my favorite artist’s name to you” she says furrowing her brows.

“You may not have said his name, Lo” Camila explains. “But you mention his works a lot. Gosh Camz, there’s this artist I love. His pieces are so powerful and he’s a self-taught architect. He’s like me basically! An artist, an architect, and an activist,” Camila says in a deep, husky voice in what is supposed to be her imitation of Lauren’s raspy voice.

Lauren laughs softly, and god, she is endeared by the woman in front of her. “I do not sound like that,” she says mid-laugh. “I hope you don’t do that impression of me to anyone else.”

Camila feels that familiar warmth in her chest whenever she hears Lauren laughing because of her and she tightens her arms around the girl, trying not to say anything that could definitely scare the other girl away. Two weeks is way too short for such deep feelings.

“But I can’t believe you pay enough attention to my ramblings to pick out my favorite artist just from talking about different pieces. I mean, I talk about a lot of other pieces too,” Lauren continues to point out.

“Well, it really isn’t hard to pay attention to you, Laur,” Camila responds softly. “I know you don’t notice it, but half the room pays attention to you even when you’re not doing anything. It helps that I’m also always so in tune to everything you do. It’s like my body and mind are programmed to listen to and watch everything you do,” she finishes.

Lauren’s heart is hammering against her chest. She can’t believe Camila turned out to be even more beautiful on the inside once she got to know her. She turns around in Camila’s arms and wraps her own hands around the other girl’s neck.

“You know, you called me ‘your girl,’ earlier,” Lauren says.

“Oh did I?” Camila pretends to scrunch up her face.

“Well, am I?” Lauren asks hesitantly. “Your girl I mean, like, are we girlfriends?” she powers through the mad blush that is taking over her face.

Camila can’t believe this precious human being is all hers. “Lauren Michelle Jauregui,” she responds while trailing her hands down Lauren’s back so softly Lauren might not have noticed it if all her nerve endings weren’t firing like crazy at the moment.

“Will you be my girlfrie-,” Camila tries to say.

“Yes,” Lauren breathes out before she even finishes and attacks Camila’s lips with her own, immediately slipping her tongue in Camila’s mouth when she gasps. Lauren indulges in the warmth of Camila’s mouth and tongue and the soft breaths she’s letting out for every particularly hard swipe of her tongue before she pulls back, lest they get kicked out for public indecency.

Camila opens her eyes slowly, still slightly dazed, “I’m gonna go research a bunch of exhibits you like if I get thanked like that every time” she says in a breathless voice.

Lauren laughs and then leans close to Camila’s ear, playing with the hairs behind her neck when she rasps out, “That’s not all, baby. I plan on thanking you a lot more when we get back to the hotel.”

Camila swallows hard and responds shakily, “H-how exactly are you going to do that?”

Lauren smirks and subtly sucks on Camila’s skin where her jaw meets her neck while wrapping her slim fingers around Camila’s neck lightly, but noticeably more tightly than before,

“How about…,” she whispers, “I let you have your way with me?” she says and Camila drags her out of the museum before Lauren even has a chance to figure out what’s happening.

–

They’re cuddled up on Lauren’s bed one night with Lauren’s arms wrapped around the other girl and Camila facing away from the green-eyed girl, the brunette’s own hands playing with Lauren’s fingers, which have snuck their way in Camila’s shirt and is drawing patterns on her toned stomach when Lauren breathes out against her neck,

“Will you let me paint on you?” she asks.

Camila turns around in her arms and brings both hands to Lauren’s face, cupping her face gently when she responds with a cheeky smile, “You want to paint me like one of your French girls?”

Lauren laughs lightly and turns her head to plant a quick kiss to the inside of Camila’s palm. Camila’s gaze softens at the action and she’s close to saying the same words she’d made a conscious effort not say to anyone for a very long time when Lauren says,

“No I mean like, paint on you” she says. “I want to paint on your back, specifically.”

Camila shakes her thoughts away internally and thinks about it for a second. “Hmm, that’s very tumblr-y. And kinda gay. That’s very tumblr-y and gay, Laur” she finally says.

“Well then it’s perfect for the both of us,” she says with a bright smile. “Come on,” she implores while running her hand down Camila’s back and up her shirt, tracing the soft skin along the ridges of her spine as she leans forward to breathe out against the other girl’s neck, “Your back is so sexy, baby. It would be like making art on art,” she husks out after sucking on a sensitive spot on the other girl’s neck.

“You can be very persuasive,” Camila half says, half moans.

Lauren smirks against her skin and pulls back, “So is that a yes?”

Camila looks her girlfriend in the eye and says, “You’re way too charming for your own good, you know that? It’s kinda scary, like what if down the road you want to paint our kids’ room a crazy color or display raunchy paintings in our living room because it’s art, Camz.”

They both seem to realize the implication behind Camila’s words and the brunette flushes a deep red as her hands become sweaty.

Shit. She’s gonna run. I totally freaked her out.

Lauren’s heartbeat is thunderous in her chest and she can’t help but picture a future with Camila. A slow smile forms on her lips and she says before the other girl can backtrack, “Then I guess I’ll just have to persuade youthe only way I know if I want paintings of naked girls in our homeor if I want to paint our kids’ room a light shade of smaragdine.” [A/N: it’s green].

Camila’s heart leaps in her chest and it’s like Lauren and Camila’s hearts are competing to see who can jump out of their ribbed confines first. They look at each other with soft smiles and twinkles in their eyes, and against all the dating rules they’ve placed for themselves, with love. With Lauren’s response confirming that the green-eyed girl is in this for the long run, Camila can’t help but think she can’t wait to hang paintings of naked girls and design smaragdine-colored rooms.

That’s how Camila finds herself on her stomach with her top off and wearing only her Iron Man boy shorts with Lauren straddling her, the green-eyed girl perched right on top of her butt. They both go to sleep in just shirts and underwear so Lauren herself is sitting on Camila with nothing but a shirt and some lace underwear and Camila is finding it hard to focus.

They’re facing towards the foot of the bed so Camila has a perfect view of Lauren working on her back through the mirror on Lauren’s dresser, which is in front of the bed across the room. Lauren’s The 1975 shirt, or is it Camila’s(?), has already collected a few paint spots as Lauren seems too absorbed in her work to notice anything else. Her hair is up in a messy bun and her tongue is poking out between her teeth in the way that it does when she’s concentrating and she’s wearing her glasses and Camila is in love.

She’s still reluctant to say it because it’s still way too soon in her opinion and she’s had her heart broken too many times. She’d given her heart out way too easily in the past and she refuses to lose in love again. Her thoughts are broken when Lauren moves on top of her.

The older girl leans forward and props her right hand by Camila’s chest, her fingers grazing Camila’s exposed side boob, while she uses her left hand to work on, apparently, a very small detail on Camila’s back because her face is inches from Camila’s skin and her hot breath is sending a warm, tingling sensation throughout her body. Lauren leaning forward also shifts where the green-eyed girl’s center is sat on top of Camila’s ass and the friction causes Camila to moan.

Lauren seems to be shaken out of her focus and immediately asks, “Shit, are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“NO! Um-,” Camila clears her throat. “I mean it’s just um-” she tries to gather her thoughts to no avail and swallows hard.

Lauren looks at Camila’s flushed cheeks through the mirror and sees how her blush has spread to her ears and the back of her neck. She smirks, “Oh, I see what’s happening. Can’t you keep it in your pants for like two seconds?” Lauren says while chuckling, their point of contact making Camila feel every vibration through her body.

“No I can’t just keep it in my pants. Have you seen yourself?” Camila huffs indignantly.

Lauren just shakes her head and laughs. She leans forward and puts her brush down, placing both of her hands on either side of Camila’s head, being careful not to touch the paint, and turns to give Camila’s cheek a lingering kiss followed by a whisper in her ear, “Later, babe.”

Lauren finishes up and takes a picture of Camila’s back with her polaroid camera while remaining seated on Camila. She retrieves the picture and can’t help the smile that forms on her lips. The flawless curve of Camila’s back had been the perfect backdrop for the galaxy that she painted, the swirls of the cosmos perfectly complementing the shape of Camila’s body. She can see her own pale thighs dotted with paint and contrasting against Camila’s tan skin as she straddles her. Camila’s head is turned to the side, showing her mid laugh with her eyes closed and smile wide.

Lauren looks at it and knows she’s in love.

–

Lauren and Camila are at another exhibit and this time, it’s Lauren’s.

It’s been three years since Lauren stalked Camila on her way to her apartment and started their story of a lifetime. Camila graduated with high honors and is now nearing the end of her first year as a medical student. Lauren, on the other hand, had been picked up by a benefactor when Camila and Lauren spent the summer after graduation in France.

Her patron’s massive wealth combined with her incredible talent meant it took almost no time before Lauren gained ground in the art scene and became one of the fastest rising artists in the world. Following the footsteps of her artist/activist hero, Lauren has been donating a good portion of her profits to various charities, some she’d founded herself, after she had established a steady pace in her career.

Now, she’s in the middle of one of her most important exhibits yet. The gallery is filled with art pieces that depict her own life. Her benefactor had convinced her to create a showcase as a way for people to “get to know the artist.” She had used as many different media as she could think of to symbolize the many different layers and nuances that make up her life. She has her career, her friends, her family, her hobbies and interests, and of course, she has her Camila.

Lauren feels exposed and not because there are people looking into different aspects of her life, but because even after years of being with Camila, she feels the most nervous about her art when it comes to the brown-eyed girl. What if she thinks the whole exhibit is ridiculous and narcissistic?

“Hey, babe” Camila addresses her cheerily as she comes up to her girlfriend, effectively stopping Lauren’s train of thought. She looks up and sees her inspiration for just about every significant art piece she’d sold.

“Hey,” she says. “What do you think?” she asks nervously.

Camila comes up to wrap her arms around the other girl’s neck and Lauren instinctively places her hands around the girl’s waist. “I think you continue to amaze me with your talent is what I think,” Camila says, pride shining in her eyes.

Lauren lets out a sigh of relief and grabs Camila’s hand, “Come on, it’s time to reveal the central piece.”

Lauren is next to Camila as the curator for the gallery is giving an introduction about Lauren and her piece and Camila can feel the nerves radiating from the girl next to her. Lauren had refused to show Camila the piece before the actual exhibit. She had even worked on it in secret, sneaking out at night and sneaking back in the early hours of the morning. It had caused quite the problem for them.

–

Camila stirs awake and her hands instinctively reach out for her girlfriend’s warmth, only to be met with cold, empty sheets. She sits up and rubs her eyes, adjusting her eyes to the darkness and finding no sign of the green-eyed girl. She gets up and calls out into the empty apartment,

“Laur?”

Nothing.

Her heart thuds in her chest and she feels a familiar ache in her chest. Lately, Lauren has been busy “working on something” and she’s barely seen her. She had trusted the girl early on, but Camila had been cheated on so many times she knows the signs like the back of her hand. She picks up her phone and dials the other girl’s number only to see it vibrating on the coffee table.

“Damn it, Laur” she whispers.

She tries to stay up for the girl but finds herself falling asleep on the couch after a couple hours. She’s stirred awake when she hears keys jingling on the door. She stands up and crosses her arms immediately. Lauren walks in looking tired.

“Long night?” Camila asks harshly.

“Camila, what are you doing up?” Lauren asks.

Camila looks at her like she’d lost her damn mind, “What am I- are you kidding? Where have youbeen?” she asks angrily. Her temper rising against her own volition.

Lauren sighs and moves to the kitchen, “I’m tired Camila, can we not do this right now? I told you I’ve been working on something.”

“Something or someone?”

Lauren turns her head and says angrily, “Are you serious? Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“You’ve been out late most nights and all you have to say about it is you’re ‘working on something’.” Camila says heatedly. “I mean, we live together and I barely see you, Laur,” Camila says, her voice cracking. “I just miss you.”

Lauren looks at her with an unreadable expression, “Do you not trust me?”

Camila looks at her and stays silent. Lauren scoffs and shakes her head, “Unbelievable, after almost three years of being together, you still think I’m like your exes? Like I’m just gonna get up and leave? What do I have to do to show you that I love you and I’m here for the long run?” she asks exasperatedly. “You’ve been looking for reasons to not make this work, Camila, and as far as I know, I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Lauren I’m sor-”

“You know what, I can’t do this,” Lauren says picking up her keys again. “Come talk to me when you’re ready to listen” she says as she walks out the door.

That following night, when Lauren doesn’t come home, Camila cries herself to sleep. Lauren had left her phone again in her haste to leave and now Camila doesn’t know how to reach her.

Lauren is spending another late night at the studio and when she walks out of the ART building, she sees Camila by the steps. “Camila?” she asks. The girl turns around and gets up quickly. Her body is aching to bring Lauren in her arms and hug her and never let her go again, but she’s not sure where they stand so she keeps her hands to herself, choosing to stuff them in her pockets instead. Her eyes are swollen and she looks like she hasn’t slept in the last couple days. Lauren’s heart breaks at the sight. She thought she was doing the right thing by giving them space.

“I’m sorry,” Camila says, trying to keep her tears at bay. “I do trust you Laur. I do. It’s me, I just get so insecure,” she looks up with pleading eyes. “Please come home.”

Lauren closes the distance between them and wraps her arms around the other girl. She’d miss Camila and her warmth and just her these past few days, it’s like she’d been on autopilot until she got to touch her again. “I’m sorry,” she responds. “I’ve just been so stressed lately and I thought I was doing us a favor by giving us a break,” she turns her head to give Camila’s head a kiss.

Camila pulls back with tears in her eyes and leans forward to give Lauren a watery kiss, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Lauren sighs. She’s glad to be home again.

The next morning, Camila wakes up to empty sheets again but when she turns her head, she sees a single rose with a note,

“I love you, Camila. I’m sorry if I did anything to make you feel otherwise. I’ve packed your stuff. Get dressed and come meet me downstairs, I’m getting the car ready. We’re going away for the weekend. – Yours forever, Lauren”

Camila smiles to herself and gets ready as fast as she can. She sees Lauren downstairs leaning against her car and holding a bouquet of red roses with her attention on her phone. “Is this how you’re going to make it up to me every time we fight?” she asks as she approaches the green-eyed girl.

Lauren looks up and smiles as she offers her girl the flowers. “Actually, I’ve had this planned for a while. I’d been working late because I was trying to finish my piece so we can have this weekend all to ourselves,” she says sincerely.

Camila’s gaze softens and she starts to feel guilty. “Don’t,” Lauren interrupts her moping. “I should have done a better job at communicating with you. We both messed up,” she says as she brings Camila’s chin up with her fingers. “We’re going to continue to mess up but it won’t matter because at the end of the day, we’re always going to come back to one another. My heart isn’t capable of doing anything else but beat for yours, okay?” she assures Camila as she kisses her forehead.

–

Camila looks over and sees the girl worrying her lip and fiddling with her fingers. Camila reaches out to stop her fingers and interlaces their hands instead. Lauren gives her a soft look and mutters a “thank you” in her ear when she leans over to give her forehead a kiss.

“…and now, it’s time to reveal, The Center of Her Universe,” the curator announces as the veil is pulled down from the framed piece.

There are soft gasps all around and flashes flicker as the invited press takes pictures of the gigantic drawing in the center of the room.

Camila herself is finding it hard to breathe. She’s looking at the piece and it’s causing a rush of emotions that bulldozes right through her entire being. The art piece is a larger-than-life drawing of a girl that looks a lot like Camila.

The artist’s perspective shows the girl’s side profile. She’s standing with her hand worrying her lip as she looks to be concentrating on what’s in front of her. Camila notes the familiar geometric shapes that the girl is looking at.

Tableau I.

It’s a drawing of Camila when Lauren first laid eyes on her.

What makes the drawing breathtaking is the fact that on the dress Camila is wearing and throughout her wavy, brown locks, there are miniature drawings of different scenes from Camila and Lauren’s time together. The mini scenes are drawn with exquisite detail despite the seemingly non-existent space. There are sketches of their movie dates, gifts they’ve given each other, and quotes and declarations of love they’ve said over the years.

Camila, with tears in her eyes, turns to look at Lauren, who of course, is already looking at her.

“Lauren,” she whispers in awe. “This is incredible.”

“It doesn’t do justice to half of your beauty and what you’ve done to my life since I found you,” Lauren responds sincerely. Camila can’t say or do anything but throw her arms around Lauren and say, “I love you so much.”

–

They’re sitting on the rooftop of the gallery a couple hours after the exhibit had come to a close with Camila’s arm intertwined with Lauren’s and her head leaning against the other girl’s shoulder.

Camila can’t think of any other place she’d rather be.

Lauren disrupts the silence when she reaches for something in her jacket and for the second time that night, Camila is speechless. In front of her, Lauren is holding onto an open small box with a ring.

“I actually wanted to this at the reveal, but then I remembered how every milestone in our relationship had always just been between the two of us and I also didn’t want to pressure you in front of those people so…” Lauren says with a nervous laugh.

Camila looks up into her favorite green eyes and she sees the other girl’s nervous gaze as if Camila could even say anything other than yes to her.

“Like I wanted to depict in my main piece,” Lauren starts. “You’re the center of my universe, Camila. You’ve brought nothing but happiness and pure love to my life and I can’t thank you enough. You continue to be my number one supporter and have stayed by my side through everything. I want to spend the rest of my life showing you how grateful I am for you if you’d let me, so…” she takes a deep breath.

“Camila Cabello,” she starts again, “Will you marr-”

“YES!” Camila answers and throws her arms around Lauren’s neck and kisses her as if to say every single thing she doesn’t know how to describe in words through the way her mouth moves along Lauren’s. She’s kissing her to show Lauren that with the green-eyed girl, it’s always going to be a resounding yes. Lauren owns her heart and everything else. She owns all of Camila.

“A thousand times yes,” she breathes into Lauren’s mouth as the other girl’s lips curve into a smile.

–

Camila is admiring the ring on her finger when she suddenly says to the other girl, “I still can’t believe you didn’t just come up to me that first day in MOMA,” she says with a confused look.

“That was probably honestly for the best,” Lauren says.

“What, why?” Camila asks curiously.

“The only thing that was going through my mind at the time was a lame pick-up line that definitely would not have worked in my favor,” Lauren says laughing to herself.

“What was it,” Camila asks.

Lauren looks at her and concedes. She clears her throat and says in a deep, husky voice,

“You’re like a piece of art,” she starts.

When Camila only raises an eyebrow, she continues.

“I want to nail you against the wall.”

–

The End.

–

A/N:

Hey everyone,

I’m back with another one shot. I’m compiling my one shots in a book on wattpad under @jaureguicabello5eva (still working on getting these on ao3). I have a few ideas and I’m going to try to upload semi-regularly.

Feel free to send me some prompts or just general things you want to see in future stories and I’ll see what I can do.

Comments/feedback give me life so please tell me what you think. Talk to me about some ideas, scenes within the story, your thoughts on the plots, the characters, point out some typos if you want, etc.

Hope you guys enjoyed this one!

side note: there are pictures in wattpad if you want to have a better idea of the pieces being referenced

-Maddox

#UPDATE #one shot #AU #slash #camren #angst drama #humour #romance fluff #submission #youre like a piece of art you need to be nailed against a wall

96 notes · View notes