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cinematicgf · 1 year

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After Hours- 18+ dbf!joel

Summary: coming home from college and staying with your dad means that you get to see his attractive best friend, Joel, all the time, from nights in to neighborhood parties. but as the two of you start to see each other regularly when you’re home for college breaks, feelings start to get involved, all leading to one night in a hotel room.

Pairing: (pre-outbreak) dbf!joel miller x afab!reader

Warnings and notes: 18+, smutty smut, minors DNI, dad’s best friend Joel, age gap, fingering, pet names, phone sex, dirty talk, teasing, swearing, reader in uni, drinking, no use of y/n, a little hint of fluff and lots of smut

~ 3.9k

A/N: hey again<3 this was suppose to be a drabble but i got carried away whoops. I hope you guys enjoy this work of dbf!joel smut and as always, your feedback is always welcome so please like, comment and reblog!

ps. I wrote this over a bottle of wine before going to friends place to drink another bottle of wine so apologies if there’s any mistakes. enjoy<3

Oh, baby, where are you now when I need you most?

I'd give it all just to hold you close

The morning sunlight seeps through a crack in the curtain, illuminating the hotel room in a soft glow. Your eyes crack open at the breech of your slumber, as you take in the unfamiliar setting. Usually, in a situation of waking up to unknown territory your heart would skip to your throat and panic would set in, if it weren’t for the warm body and heavy breathing encased close behind you. One large, muscular arm keeping you in place draped over your waist and an all too familiar hint of yesterdays cologne and musk relaxes you into a blissed-out morning attitude. Behind you, of course, is Joel. Joel of contractor and fourth of July barbecue fame in your neighborhood. The man who you had been crushing on since you were a teenager, and now, with your transition into university and spending time apart from your hometown and the residents, coming back meant that you have changed.

You left a naive teenager with a passion for history and came back as a young adult, ready and willing for what life through at you. And no one had noticed this change more than Joel. Taking extra-long glances at you as your back was turned whilst you were studying in the living room, taking peaks at your ass as you bent over to grab yourself a beer from the fridge, oh so kindly provided by your father, and oh god almighty, who could forget the pet names, anything from ‘honey’ to ‘pretty girl’ which, admittedly, use to just be a friendly affirmation of care from the older man, but now sent an electric shock of arousal straight to your core.

There was one slight problem to both of your developing feelings was the Joel was your father’s best friend. Although you and your father were somewhat close, after your mother had decided to bail and your new slutty stepmother had been brought into the mix of your home life, your not-so-subtle feelings of despise toward the woman were apparent. Of course, you wanted your dad to be happy but CMON... did it have to be with Slutty Steph who flirted with quite literally every man who came within a 3-mile radius of the woman?

In your trips back from university to home over the past six months, your “friendship” with Joel had grown into the two of you flirting back and forth with hearty banter which always led to a filthy comment from either of you- (“What would my father think if I told him, you were just checking out my tits, old man” you shot at him with a smirk. “I would simply tell him his darling little girl was wearing these low-cut shirts only when she knew his best friend was coming over”, he retorted, his breath hot in you ear as he brought his hand up to grip your bare waist under your crop top.). Eventually the flirting turned to a sloppy make out sesh one night when your father had gone to bed early and left the two of you with a bottle and a half left of wine. After that night, every time you would come home from university, the two of you would secretly meet up, either to make out and explore each other’s bodies in the back of his truck, or to dip out of a neighborhood get together so he could have your up against a door, blocking anyone’s unwelcomed entry, as he held you with one huge hand under your thighs and another laced your waist, as he whispered the most filthy string of words known to mankind in your ear as you moaned softly as his cock twitched inside you and he fucked up into you at a brutal pace . Eventually, the hand on your waist would have to be brought up to your mouth to cover your moaning as he pushed deeper and deeper into you, the top of his large cock hitting your g-spot at just the right angle, this, accompanied by the leud sounds of slapping thighs and wet noises throwing you over the edge, with his hand still pressed to your mouth as you came, hard, party makeup and mascara running down your cheeks as you squeezed your eyes shut and shook in his arms as he fucked you through your high. It wouldn’t take long for his thrusting to get sloppy after you clench around him tight and he would cum deep inside you, holding you still as he stayed in your pussy, muttering praises of, “that’s my sweet girl, god almighty you did so well baby, squeezing me tight like that. Such a good girl for me, always”. This within itself almost made you come again, but soon enough, after he had gone limp and after a few more slow thrusts, the two of your would have to clean yourselves up and go back out to the familiar faces of your neighbors, pretending a man twice your ages and twice your size in height and muscle hadn’t just fucked you so hard against a bedroom door that your knees were now jello and the shirt you had changed into had a higher neckline to avoid suspicious glares at the many bitemarks and hickeys decorating your neck.

Joel, being the most eligible bachelor in the town, or so your high school friends commented one night when you were out smoking in her car on a university break, always had looks from women, mostly his own age, who were so eager to settle down with the respectable, stable (and ever so filthy) man. Sometimes you thought these little neighborhood parties your dad (and Joel too) would insist you come to were just ways that he could find someone and settle down finally. I guess everyone hoped so, or they hoped that they would be the one he would choose. I mean, with his structured face and messy brown curls, his patchy yet groomed beard, muscular arms, giant hands and not to mention the ever-present bulge in his jeans, all the grown woman in the neighborhood would swoon when he entered. He entertained their boring conversations about work and sometimes ever their husbands, but hell, you would never admit to the jealousy it made you feel. Sometimes, after one too many and a boiling of envy in your veins, you would retreat into the house of whichever neighbor had the honors of hosting and lay on the couch so as not to see the women drooling over the guy you were fucking on a regular basis. The one who was so handsome when he got down on his knees between your legs after racing to your fathers house, knowing he was at work. He would kiss and thrust his fingers into your tight hole until you came around them, back arching and moaning so loud you were surprised you didn’t get a noise complaint. The one who, afterwards, would tangle his hands in your hair as he pulled you onto his lap, feeling his achingly hard cock swell against you as your lips collided, sloppy and lovingly, tasting yourself on his tongue. The one who would whisper how sweet you tasted and who always praised you with a “good girl” after taking his cock so deep it would leave you aching for days.

When you were in the house, having the much needed lie down after your subtle (or so you thought) jealous outbreak, it wasn’t long before guess who wanders through the sliding door into the living room, which you’ve occupied. “Sweetheart…”, he drawls in a knowing tone, “Let’s get you to bed”. His voice is low as he leans against the door, one hand placed on his hip while the other rests on his thigh right next to where his jeans look awfully tight. Your jealousy is quickly forgotten in your drunken state, as you feel yourself get slightly wet from his muscular stance and understanding smirk. He noticed your absence and came looking; that’s gotta be something... right? “Why don’t you join me”, you coo, narrowing your eyes and moving your arm slightly to lean on your side, thus emphasizing your breasts in your lowcut shirt. He grins to himself, rubbing his bead as he adjusts his jeans around his crotch. “C’mon, then, bedtime for you”. He steps over. “Weeeeeeeee”, you exclaim as he picks you up bridal style, giggling the whole time. “Are you taking me for round two?”, you giggle, throwing your arms around his neck and looking at him doe eyed. “You”, he gives you a kiss on the forehead once you are both halfway up the stair, “need to sleep it over, sugar”. He puts you down in a room and gently kisses your forehead again, “G’night pretty girl”, he whispers. You smile up at him, drunk and looking with such fascination at the attractive older man. “You’re the pretty one”, you whisper, before he chokes back a laugh and kisses you softly on the lips. “Get some sleep, sweetheart, I’ll check on you tomorrow”.

At first it had just seemed like simple fun. Two grown adults fucking around with each other when you came home from university every few weeks for a break. Despite being your dad’s best friend, Joel spent an ungodly amount of time with you, either when you were staying, and you two fucked in private, or when you were back at university, and you would receive those oh so delicious late night calls of him stroking himself, telling you he had been thinking about you and asking when you were coming home so he could taste how sweet you were again. You were glad your roommate had left earlier in the year, leaving the dorm to yourself, because your moans mixed with Joel’s filthy words of pleasure and praise as you rubbed your clit and eased two fingers inside of you while his hand gripped his cock had you both climaxing at the thought of each other and, to be frank, neither of you were very quiet about it. God, your fingers did nothing compared to having his cock inside you; hell, even his fingers.

“I miss you, doll, when are you back.”

“Joel… I was there last week”, you giggled, breathlessly after you came down from your hig.

“I know, I just miss you is all”, he smiled, rubbing his beard, “I’ve been thinking about you a lot actually, I just wanna make sure that uni is taking care of my sweet girl”.

After a few hours and a knowing of morning sleep deprivation because of the call carrying into the early hour of the dawn, you both hung up. You felt different, you couldn’t stop smiling at the thought of them. That is when you knew that, maybe, you had fucked up a little. It wasn’t just a casual meet and fuck when you were in town anymore. You were both thinking about each other when you were alone and when together, the sparks would fly. But… you couldn’t be in love with your father’s best friend. It was out of the question. Shit… what if he found out? What the hell would he do? You started to overthink and the more you did, you were drawn back to his words, “I miss you” “MY sweet girl”. You decided that you needed to talk to him, fuck it. He would know what to do, and there were only really two options of what could happen. You could tell him your feelings and he could laugh at you and shut it down, maybe even coming to the realization that you were indeed his best friend’s daughter and perhaps this was a bad idea; (despite how fucking incredible you looked when you were straddling him, leaned back a little to take him deeper as you bounced on his cock, riding him so good. He would often come back to that image late at night when he gripped himself and jerked at a rapid pace, pretending he was inside your tight hole). The other option was too exciting to even think about, but you knew it wasn’t exactly ideal… or that he would feel the same. “Sure, he misses you. He misses fucking you, is all”, you speculate to yourself. He is a grown ass man, he has been fucking women since before you were born, what makes you think he is going to want you? A third-year uni student who, may I reiterate, has been his father’s best friend for the better part of roughly seven years. You sigh to yourself as you sit in bed, your textbooks discarded to the side as you squeeze your eyes shut, trying not to cry at the inevitable fate of your quick fling with Joel. You decided, fuck it, and sent Joel a text that you needed to talk to him.

And this all had led you here, lying in a hotel room in your university town with your dad’s best friend wedged behind you, naked and fast asleep. Despite your groggy state you think back to yesterday’s events. You had texted him in the morning, throwing your phone aside because of nerves but after the familiar ding a few minutes later, you took a peak and, low and behold, a message from Joel saying he would be there soon. Your nervy state only jumped at this, your uni town was two hours from home, and he was wiling to come today to talk. “Calm down” you told yourself, “It’s not going to go like that”. You laid back down, trying to ease your anxiety, before hopping in the shower to wash off all the unwanted nervousness and brace yourself for tonight. Late notice aside, he had been out front of your dorm by midafternoon, leaning against his truck, sunglasses and a t shirt stretching over the expanse of his chest, tight jeans (thank god for your sunglasses because lord forgive, your eyes immediate go there) and his arms folded. He grins upon seeing you, “There she is”, he chuckled pushing himself up from his truck and untucking his arms to greet you with a strong, warm hug. His cologne fills your senses, making you feel at home again, in his arms. He places a kiss to your forehead, opening the truck door for you as you both speed off away from the uni and through town.

Despite the nerves still kicking in your system, you start to make conversation.

“So, why come all the way down here”, you start, looking at his side profile from the passenger seat and god, if he doesn’t look beautiful. His strong nose and trimmed beard making up the artwork that is his face.

“Because you wanted to see me, sugar”, he replies, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Yeah, about that, how long are you staying, because this may take a little bit”. You stare down at your hands, fidgeting slightly in your seat.

“I got a hotel room in town, we can talk all night, doll” he chuckles, glancing at you quickly with a grin before returning his gaze to the road.

God, you wish you didn’t have this weight on your shoulder, you wish you could just get this over with and be tucked up in bed to cry yourself to sleep once his definite answer, that being, of course, that you two should end it, is said and finalized.

Once the two of you arrive at this hotel room it is early evening. The sun is caressing the outskirts of the horizon, flaming the coast, as your heart is rapidly thrumming in your chest. Joel kicks off his shoes and drops heavily on the couch provided by the room and you sit rigid on the arm, not daring to meet his gaze and not being able to utter a word as the nerves, not most insistent, claw at your throat. Joel notices and pushing himself into a sitting position, his thighs push apart of his hand falling between his legs as he watches you, waiting, his brow slightly furrowed as if he knows what is about to happen. Only then do you decide to meet his gaze. Fuck it, lets just get it over with.

“I want to, um, I wanted to talk about us”, you start, meeting his gaze briefly before your eyes return to your palm as your other hand rubs it. “And about what you said on the phone the other night”.

Joel is still looking at you, his brow has furrowed out of slight confusion, or what was that concern… maybe?

“I have found”, you begin again, slowly, not daring to look at him, focusing on a spot on the floor where the carpet meets the linoleum of the kitchen. Perhaps if you just get it all off your chest first without waiting for a response, you’ll feel better. “That I enjoy your company. I mean. Besides the sneaking away and fucking and video calls”, you say slowly. “I enjoy spending time with you at the parties and I find myself getting excited when I get a response from you over text, it’s just… maybe I’m delusional Joel but, I think I’m starting to have feelings. And trust me, I know that wasn’t the deal going into all this, and I know that I’m just a fuck to you and it’s thrilling, having that danger to a relationship, such as sleeping with your best friend’s daughter, but I can’t help it”, you voice is wavering and slightly speeding up to get this all over with quicker. You can feel the sting of tears behind your eyes, but you continue, nevertheless. “So please, just tell me that you don’t want anything now and it can be over with. We can go to those shitty neighborhood parties and talk to each other as if nothing happened but please, Joel, if you don’t want this, tell me now.” A hint of a tear drips down your cheek as you finish your dramatic speech. Your heart is trying to break out of your chest and your hands shake slightly at his awaited response. You still don’t meet his gaze. He is still sitting in the same position, frowning slightly as he takes in your words, before he lets out a heavy sigh. A small tense silence engulfs the room.

“I feel the same”, he says, just barely a whisper. Your head whips around to finally meet his gaze. You look down at him from where you are perched on the side of the couch. “I’m honestly surprised you didn’t realize sooner”, he continues, “especially after the call, and what I said to you. When you are gone, I really do miss you, doll, not just the sex, but… you”. He meets you gaze with a tired smile, and you can’t believe your ears. Your towns hottest, most eligible bachelor; the only guy who has made your heart jump like this and, for the record, the only guy who has actually made you come, has reciprocated feelings for you.

You smile lightly at him, “Really?” you choke out through unwanted tears which started at nerve crying turned into happy sobs. He chuckles, reaching his long arm to intertwine your finger with his, “C’mere babygirl”. You push yourself off the arm of the couch and slide into his lap. One hand laces around your waist while the other is on your thigh, holding you steady. His lips meet yours in a closed-mouth kiss. His hand on your waist travels up to tangle in your hair as he inhales a moan from you, using the opportunity to weave his tongue into your mouth, intertwining yours and his in a heated kiss as you grind down on his hardening cock. He pulls away to gaze at your blissed out face, lips swollen and plump, you smile at him through your daze of joy and love for the man in front of you. “My pretty girl”, he says, caressing the back of your hair, bring his hand around to cup your face and running his thumb over your kiss-drunk lips. You kiss the pad of his thumb. “You’re mine, sweetheart, my gorgeous girl”. He uses his thumb to ease open your mouth before reconnecting your lips in a tongue and teeth clashing kiss. “I don’t care if your father finds out”, he says between hot kisses and your uncontrollable light moans, “you’re my girl and that is all that matters to me”. You feel the arousal warming your panties at his words, as he slips his hand from your thigh up your skirt. Feeling how wet you are makes him grin against your lips, “all for me?”, he whispers more so to himself. “All for you”, you confirm, gasping as he slips a finger through your wet folds. Collecting your arousal, he coats his fingers and slips them inside you. Gasping, you grab onto his shoulders for support, as he reconnects your lips with his. You bring your hand up to caress his face, as he pulls your body closer with the hand that’s not inside you. He swallows your moans as you ride his fingers. “Good girl, you’re doing so well for me baby. You’re taking my fingers so well”, he praises, pressing his forehead to yours as you both watch his fingers moving in and out. You feel the coil in your stomach tighten quickly, and you squeeze his fingers. Joel speeds up slightly, your mouth falling open as a string of moans and gasps escape you. “Joel, I’m—I’m gonna “. “That’s its baby, come for me”, Joel whispers, sending you over the edge as your head falls to his shoulders; your teeth meeting the skin there. Your pussy clamps down on his fingers as he continues to move his fingers in and out slowly, riding out your high. When the stimulation gets too much, you bring your hand down to his, moving it out from inside you. You kiss him, ardently, as he brings both muscular arms to engulf you. When you both pull away for air, you notice your bitemark on his should. “Oh shit”, you run your hand over it, “I’m so sorry baby, heat of the moment I guess”, you breathe. He follows your gaze and chuckles, “Sweetheart, I didn’t even feel it”, he assures you, a cheeky, horny look decorating his features, “Besides, I’m sure that’s not going to be the first time tonight”, he chuckles. You roll your eyes, playfully slapping his shoulder as he hoists you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, as he carries you to the hotel bed, lips nudging that sweet spot behind your ear.

The day, which had started out as unwanted nerves and hopelessness, as you mourned the inevitable death of your relationship with your dad’s best friend Joel, had ended so much better than you had expected. And as you feel asleep with your head on his chest, listening to his shallow breathing as one large hand was tucked around your waist, rubbing circles on your bare skin, you couldn’t help but smile. He was yours. Now and always.

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel x you #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fic #ellie williams #joel miller fic #joel miller x afab!reader #∘* ✧･ﾟ ➳ audie writes

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rainbowmancer-gwen · 3 months

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Story time:- Shitting the bed (Disrespectful house guests) CONTAINS NSFW moments

I need to start using my tumblr more... My threapist said I should journal more and tell my life stories because a lot of them are just as absured as this... Okay so this is not an am I the asshole stories because I know I am not. I wrote this last night night whilst stoned. I also wanted to test a new clicky RGB keyboard that my Friend Kendra bought me (She was at this party too and can verify it's a true story...) Here goes

Okay, so... close to a decade ago, now I held a party after the Armageddon expo (Anime and Geek convention in New Zealand) one year.

The lead up was that I was working on an assignment for Uni that needed to be in before Sunday. Sunday was Armageddon, and I was hosting an after-party for cosplayers and furries at my parents' house.

It was a sleepover, and I had worked extra shifts to afford a boat load of Kai to feed everyone. My folks were away in the UK. They knew about the party and they knew about my rule.

If you stay cooked, breakfast is at 10 am because you can sleep in. After that I will give you a job cleaning the house. This had worked previously to great effect.

My folks' house can comfortably sleep 12 (in beds) + more on couches.

The whole of the local furry community was invited, and my best friends at the time had helped me plan.

I get my assignment done at 3am after much tinkering and fuckwittery with word counts as Uni had fucked up the brief and there was ambiguity about word count. Fuck it! It's 3am, it is done. I need to sleep and get ready to let off steam.

Arrive at Armageddon, meet friends, and help friend Cosplay as Totoro in a big fursuit. Meet more furries, including draw fest artists. Fuck it! Invite them. This party is going to be the ultimate nerd fest.

And that's when I meet AL... AL is a dragon furry, who is so up himself his fursona has two dicks... I didn't know this at the time. AL asks if he can come. I had only met him once previously but had interacted well enough online and he seemed cool.... Say fuck it! Come along.

Start getting messages out of the blue from a Trans friend, B, who had just gotten back into the country after a messy break up. Say Fuck it! She can come too. It'll do her some good!

Fast forward to the party. Everything is going swell. I am the perfect host. I'm nervous because my parents' house is full of people I have had next to no sleep and a full day of convention. I'm knackered, my best mate. Let's call him Phoenix. He has packed me a joint. Instantly feel better.

Start to notice something is off...

Notice AL and B are making out like it's an Olympic sport. They are all over each other, and it's squicking out my guests...

Ask them politely. Hey guys... It's not that kinda party. We got people playing fucking Yu-Gi-Oh! And drawing furries and you're... You're doing that...

It gets later, and people start to trickle out. The stayers are watching anime on a projector in the living room that Totoro friend, had brought over.

I'm like, sweet. This is my time for another joint, and I'll set up beds. I walk into the kitchen, and what do I see? B An 8 foot transwoman in heels sucking off AL...

I am beyond mortified and beyond words... AL smug face says something to me, which I forget.

Anyway I tell them that it's not appropriate quietly and again not that kinda party. No other party guests saw that, thankfully... Read the room seriously!

Move on to allocating beds. Okay, so let's put them separately...

B pipes up. "Um... I will have anxiety if I don't sleep away from other people who I don't know" sounds fake as fuck.

Okay, you can have the room my GRANDMOTHER sleeps in when she visits... and my room is ABOVE YOU...

Everyone hears this... Everyone goes to bed. I go upstairs when they do. Spend a little more time with core friends. Break down and tell them what happened... and how mortified I am.

They ask me why you did not tell us? Because I didn't want to ruin the party...

Go sleep. Hear fucking. PISSBOILED! I am so angry! Angry cry self to sleep listening to Weezer. "I am the greatest man that ever lived" (I was masc at the time...) more on that story later...

Skip ahead to the morning. I am up first as I had not slept, nor had they. (The headphones did not hide the fucking...!)

Here I am, angry breakfast! Thankfully, due to many doors between guests and them (except for me... I AM THE ONE WHO HEARD EVERYTHING!)

It was awful... Thankfully, everyone helped clean and was grateful for breakfast. EXCEPT FOR THEM!

THEY DIDN'T GET OUT OF BED UNTIL MIDDAY!

I had shit I needed to do! Everyone did! Everyone knew this. It was on the invites! I purposefully sent the invites. Because in the digital age, respect the party rules!

And I made it very clear 3 TIMES!

☆♤♧◇♧♤♡☆

NOT

THAT

KIND

PARTY!!!

☆♤♧◇♧♤♡☆

They have the AUDACITY! the AUDACITY! to ask where's BREAKFAST!

After a brief explanation... AL, to his credit, helps a little with the last of the cleaning....

B does a sneaky exit but gets caught at the door by me. She says , sheepish and fake sad sounding "Bye...." *Sad eyes look away* ME ME me me me kinda look.

Leaves... Whatever screw her! She's out of my life now...

Meanwhile, other guests start to ship out and thank me for my hospitality and grace, humility and kind hosting, and network skills, etc...

AL and core BFFs last to leave (Phoenix, and Rei) after knowing what has happened asked me if I wanted to stay with them. Say yes please. AL hears this (he's still not left yet) and says he'll travel with us...

Que? No, me gusta!

Does not get hint. Walk to.bus stop is silent.

Get to bus. AL invites himself by stating “Am I coming to [PHOENIX and REI'S HOUSE] with you?”

Rei who has had it at this point states “I don’t know… Are you?” and glares at him.

Finally getting the hint AL gets off the bus.

Watch him leave… Continue Bus journal. All of us are gobsmacked… GAGGING!!!

Continue to my friend's house. Phone blows up. Messages from B saying how much of a shit host I was and how unwelcome she was made to feel… CALL OUT HER BULLSHIT! Phoenix is cheering me up by making me laugh about the whole thing calling it the "Kitchen BJ saga" Rei is pouring me a hair of thedog bloody mary and a cup of tea

Come home a day later. Shit stains on the bed…. I AM FUCKING LIVID THEY LITERALLY SHIT THE BED!!

End up charging both of them for the price of entirely new bed sheets… AL reluctantly pays as he has rich parents, find out later that he payed for B too.

Never hear for B again, except randomly bumping into her in the hospital (I am an RN) No words were spoken but I honestly hope she is well… AL occasionally pops up in online circles, Never let him live it down. Trues to laugh about it because “LOL It’s been close to a decade” NO! YOU SHIT THE BED! I’m never letting you or anybody else forget it!

If you read this far you are a saint. Thank you for letting me get this off my chest

Peace and love tumblr!

MAY YOU NEVER SHIT THE BED!

Gwen

#am i the asshole #long reads #long post #furries #true story #disrespectful #shit the bed

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dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice · 9 months

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To the Shadows that Cry Witch /// Chapter 17

Hello! So I've made this one a little longer to make up for the two weeks of posting I missed, even though it's still a bit of a filler chapter, but I promise more exciting things are coming. Also I may be going on a small hiatus after posting this or the next chapter so I can get myself ready for uni. But apart from that, Enjoy! <3

Summary: Magic was real, but it came at a price. So when two girls end up in the one place they never thought they could reach, strange things began to happen. Good or bad? That's up to them to find out.

Tags: Kili x oc/reader - Fili x oc (POV to be written soon) - Thorin's company × ocs/reader (platonic) - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Bagginshield

Word Count: 3013

Warnings: Mentions of injuries and distressing events from previous chapter.

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

PLEASE START FROM THE BEGINNING IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY OK LOVE U

Want some background music? Check out my Soundtrack Playlist!

Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

<; Chapter 16 // Chapter 17 // Chapter 18 >

Part 2: Chapter 17 -

I am confusion.

Moira (Definition): A person’s fate or destiny. (Noun / Origin: Irish / Moi·ruh)

Hobbiton, The Shire – T.A. 30th September 2939 of the Third Age (1339 in Shire-reckoning)

“And he just dragged you both in unconscious and decided to let you stay? Just like that?? Yavanna he is a strange hobbit.”

We both nodded in unison at Mrs Greenfoot’s questions and watched as she let out a guffaw, her eyes widening in disbelief at the story we told about our arrival. We had left out the parts where our belongings had materialised out of thin air and the near-death experience we had falling from the sky, otherwise I was sure we would be chased around with a cane and one unhappy hobbit lady yelling about us being delirious.

We were currently sat what seemed like a sewing room, with a folding screen standing tall on one side, whilst the other wall was taken up by a large cabinet and further shelving, that housed threads and fabrics of all kinds of colours and textures. I was currently sat on a small circular ottoman stool, watching Gladiola as she stared at the numbers on a measuring tape she had wrapped firmly around Kay’s waist. Brushing a brown curl out of her face, she released the tape and turned to a small table next to her, jotting numbers down on some paper.

“Well that’s a first.” She began. “It’s not every day Bilbo just lets anyone into his home. Not after he found Lobelia that one time trying to nick an entire drawer of handkerchiefs, my word,” she said with a chuckle, “Their screaming match could be heard from across the river!”

“He didn’t ask us right off the hook, though.” Kay responded. “We explained our situation and managed to convince him in the end.”

“Right.” Gladiola said whilst wrapping the tape around Kay's bicep. “Just make sure you two stay out of trouble – for both your reputations and Bilbo’s. The hobbits here love gossip, nor are all of them friendly to outsiders, if you haven’t already noticed.” She warned.

“Yeah we’ve noticed. I counted 9 who changed their route to avoid us, and don’t get me started on the staring.” I answered unenthusiastically.

Gladiola let out a short laugh. “You’re going to have to get used to it for a little while, I’m afraid. At least until they warm up to you. Hopefully.” She made one final note on the paper and put her tape measure away. “Now, keep in mind I am limited to what I have access to in Hobbiton, but why don’t you two tell me what kind of clothes you want.”

We spent a while sharing our ideas – I asked about a simple layered dress with a bodice that was similar to what Mrs Greenfoot was wearing, and some dungarees. Kay described a something similar, but with her own colour scheme, Gladiola nodding along as she wrote it all down. During that time, Bilbo had returned with the tea, and had a kettle boiling away as we all sat at the dining table.

“Ok, I’ll see what Mrs Brownlock has at her stall tomorrow morning and get started.” Gladiola explained.

Bilbo reached into his pocket and brought out a sack of coins, handing it over to Gladiola, insisting she had some form of money-based payment for the help she was provided, and she received it gratefully. I stood up and walked over to the stove to pour another cup of tea. At that point, loud chatter was heard outside, growing nearer, and soon enough the front door swung open, several small figures darting in with haste, followed by a very out of breath older hobbit.

The taller hobbit leant on the door, his face glowing a rosy red as he heaved deep breaths, and we all watched as several hobbit children scampered around, yelling with glee as smiles plastered each of their similar faces. All of them had mops of brown curly hair, varying in shades, lengths and styles, that swished around as they tumbled down the hallway. Though that came to a stop as they reached the kitchen.

The tallest of the children entered first and immediately froze, her large, dark blue eyes, that matched her dress, widened as they honed in on us. Another two crashed into her, causing her to stumble, and one by one the rest followed, crashing into each other until they all were stood still in the hallway, staring in with wide eyes.

Finally, the older hobbit caught up, his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. He wore a grey button-up, tucked into a simple pair of brown trousers held up by suspenders of the same brown colour. A striking pair of dark blue eyes that matched the tallest child in front of him were slightly hidden by a mass of dark brown curls that spiralled down just past his pointed ears. His eyes were wide, darting around as his face held an awkward expression at the sight of the four of us.

“My love,” he greeted Gladiola, who gave him a warm smile in return. “I uhh – didn’t… realise we were having guests today?”

“Are you an elf?”

My body jerked slightly, startled as I looked down to find one of the smaller kids had silently approached me, and was now staring up with giant brown doe eyes as she poked at my knee.

“Uhhhh, no?” I answered confusedly.

“But you’re so tall?!” This time it was one of the boys that spoke up, hurrying over to join what I guessed was his sister to where I was stood by the stove.

“She has long straight hair like an elf!”

“And look! Her ears are pointy!”

“Ah, no,” I answered with a nervous laugh, “They just look pointy when I face forward.” I turned my head and pointed at my ear. “I can assure you they’re round.”

The two of them looked like they didn’t believe a word I said, and I felt myself begin to sweat slightly at the pressure of their staring. That was, until the girl glanced at Kay, and immediately set her sights on her.

“What about you!” She exclaimed, causing Kay to jump in her seat. “Are you an elf?!”

“She not tall enough.” Said the boy, and I burst out laughing at the sight of Kay’s offended face, her mouth open in shock. “Maybe she’s half elf.”

“Melba! Rothad! That’s enough!”

Gladiola’s voice resonated through the room, silencing the two kids.

“Sorry ma.” They both said in unison.

“Mum, who are these people?” Piped up the tallest who had come through first. She was definitely the eldest of the group, her protective nature showing with the wary look on her face as she subconsciously picked up the smallest child and held her in her arms.

“They’re friends of Bilbo’s dearie,” Mrs Greenfoot answered. “They’re staying here for a while, so I’ll be making them both some outfits to fit in.”

“But I thought Bilbo didn’t like outsiders?” Revealed the eldest, much to Bilbo’s chagrin.

“W-well it’s not that I dislike everyone who comes through the Shire,” He defended with a red tint to his ears. “I’ve just happened to have some unfortunate encounters with the men of Bree during the odd visit, that’s all.”

The eldest looked unconvinced, her brows pinched as she pinned him with an intense glare, causing Bilbo to shrink in his chair slightly at the sight of the challenging child.

Gladiola quickly went to break the tension, distracting her eldest child with a suggestion to introduce everyone, to which she did.

“My name is Menegilda, and these are my sisters, Melba, Berylla and Lalia.” She gestured to the girls on her right, then to the three boys grinning on her left. “And these are my brothers, Rothad, Griffo and Madoc. Also, this is our father.” She pointed her dad who had sneaked passed the seven kids, and was pouring himself a cup of tea.

He gave us both a warm grin, walking over to give his wife a kiss on the forehead, before introducing himself. “Gilbert, it’s lovely to meet you both, and to see you again Bilbo!” He clapped the other hobbit on the back, sitting down on the chair by Gladiola, who turned towards us.

“I hope you guys are up for the challenge, cause you’ve got seven kids to look after.” She said.

Her sentence was met with a wide range of reactions: Kay and I nodded in agreement, whilst Gilbert slumped in his chair with a sigh of relief (turns out he likes having his weekends off with the kids, but it was nice to have a break sometimes). The children were a mix, most of them shouting in excitement whilst others like Menegilda and Madoc – who were the eldest of the group – looked unsure at the thought of strangers looking after them. I didn’t blame them though, I’ve had my fair share of babysitters in the past, and not knowing them beforehand made things a little awkward when it came to them telling you what to do.

Though we no longer had any choice on whether or not we wanted to get to know them, because the two of us were instantly swept away, Melba and Rothad in the lead as they dragged us further into the house. I gave Kay an exasperated look.

“I think I’m gonna have a hard time remembering all these names.” I whispered as much as I could over the yelling.

Kay scoffed. “But you can recite the names of over eighty Transformers characters? It shouldn’t be that hard.” She smirked as I pouted with a frown.

It wasn’t long before Kay and I found ourselves sat on the floor of one of the kid’s bedrooms, being prodded with questions as some played with our hair, whilst the others scurried around the room, grabbing random things of theirs to show us. Menegilda had remained in the corner at first, but soon enough she was sat in front of us with the youngest in her lap – Lalia – after seeing my wrist splint and asking how it happened, but now she quietly spoke about what the seven of them usually got up to.

Hours passed, and we found ourselves waving goodbye to the Greenfoot family, exhausted from the children’s constant playing, and full from both Bilbo and Mr & Mrs Greenfoot effortlessly putting together the last 4 meals of the hobbit day - Luncheon, Afternoon Tea, Dinner and Supper. As a thanks, I promised to make another batch of Victorian sponge cakes, much to the excitement of the large family at the thought of trying a new type of pudding. And with that, the two of us and Bilbo finally made our way up the grassy path, dimly lit by the dying light of the golden hour, ready to go to bed.

25 Days Later – T.A. 25th October 2939 of the Third Age (1339 in Shire-reckoning)

It had been almost a month since we were introduced to the Greenfoot family, and things had been getting better. Kay’s concussion had finally cleared, the dizzy spells it caused now completely gone, and the large cut on her forehead was slowly losing its scabbing. We also found out, much to Kay’s relief, that her spinal injury was simply a bruised bone, and the blood-red bruising on her back had finally begun to turn into a mottled green-yellow.

As for me, my ribs were slow on their recovery journey, my breathing still painful from time to time depending how much rest I had that day. My ankle had stopped swelling finally, after Erard had found out I had been up and about too much for his liking and had threatened to twist the other ankle if I didn’t take bed rest. He came in once a week to check up on us and change my wrist splint, which apparently wasn’t going to fully heal for another 4-8 weeks, much to my disappointment. The large gash on my hand was my least favourite to think about – it was fine, not infected or anything, but it wasn’t nice to look at the reddened, gnarly raised skin, knowing that soon there would be an ugly white jagged scar replacing what was once the smooth skin of my palm. I also hated the fact that every time I looked at it, I would be reminded of what was probably the most terrifying and painful night of my life. But apart from that, all our other scratches and bruises had disappeared, apart from the larger cuts scarring slightly here and there.

A knock sounded at my bedroom door, and I was snapped out my thoughts as Kay called through, saying that Gladiola was in the kitchen with some of the clothes she’d made and if I was able to come out. Standing up from my bed, I approached the door and opened it, following Kay to the kitchen.

We spotted Mrs Greenfoot as we entered the kitchen, greeting her as she hauled a large bundle of cream coloured material onto the table. Pulling it apart, she separated it into two piles, picking something out of one of them, before unravelling it.

I gasped in delight as I recognised the shape of clothing that spanned that was longer than Gladiola herself.

“A shift!” I exclaimed excitedly. “I’ve always wanted to make one of these!”

“Well now you have one!” Gladiola announced proudly as she admired her work. “It’s only a simple undergarment, but the cotton is breathable enough for you both to wear it comfortably under any outfit.” She explained.

We both chattered excitedly with the hobbit, who had handed us our garments along with a set of cotton pants and a type of chest covering that was similar to a modern bra, and ushered us off to try them all on to check that they fitted well.

Twirling around, I admired the shift as much as I could in the small mirror on top of the dresser, watching as it swayed with my movement. It was only an undergarment, but for some reason it made me feel so happy and giddy inside.

Sitting on the bed, I slipped on the knitted socks, admiring the patterns in the cream colour that wound and twisted upwards until it reached halfway up my shins. Wiggling my toes at the soft feel of the wool, I stood up and bounded out the door, eager to show Mrs Greenfoot how well everything had fitted.

Kay appeared not long after me, sporting her own matching shift and set of socks. Gladiola was immediately upon us, tugging and prodding at the fabric to check if it fitted her standards. Apparently it did, and she relaxed back onto her heels with a satisfied huff.

“It looks like nothing needs adjusting, are you both happy with what you have so far?” she asked looking up at us. We both nodded with a ‘mhm’, smiles on our faces. “Brilliant, I best be off then, got a linen delivery coming in the hour.”

“Wait!” I blurted, and quickly hurried to the pantry, much to the surprise of the hobbit. I returned not long after with a basket in my arms, a light blue tartan cloth draped over the top of it, and handed it over. “We made some scones for you to take home, and there’s some clotted cream and strawberry jam that Bilbo taught us how to make in there as well.”

Gladiola let out a noise of delight as she lifted the cloth up to reveal a batch of giant scones, taking a deep breath of the freshly baked scents. We walked her to the door as she thanked us both, and waved as she disappeared down the hill.

Returning to our rooms as it was now late in the evening, I busied myself with tidying up, before sitting down and playing around with the ribbons on my dresser and trying to see what hairstyles suited the heatless curls I had put in last night . Deciding on a loose low ponytail that allowed my light fringe and curtain bangs to flow freely, I tightened the ribbon, and froze on the spot.

That same feeling had returned. The same one from almost a month ago when I thought I was going to be mauled to death by some ghost-looking beast. I still hadn’t decided whether it was a dragon or a demon yet, since my fear had blocked me from remembering the creature.

I forced myself to glance the my left, using the mirror to look at the wardrobe behind me that stood ominously in the faint glow of my candle. No blue. Thank god.

But that feeling didn’t leave.

It felt like a pull – a sudden motivation to do something you hadn’t thought of. But this time it didn’t pull me towards the wardrobe. Instead I felt it wanting me to walk out the door. I stood up, but not before I opened one of my drawers, taking the sharp sewing scissors and zipping them into the pocket of the waterproof coat I had worn when we dropped into Middle Earth. Slipping the coat over the shift I was wearing, I kept the wool socks on and slid on my walking boots, grimacing at the small splashes of old blood stains that scattered the material.

Picking up a lantern and lighting it, I quietly made my way through the hallways and reached the front entrance, before a voice called out.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

I spun around, staring into the darkness that stretched beyond the light of my lantern, until I spotted a concerned Bilbo as he emerged from the shadows holding a candle.

“Uhhhhh, just for a walk.”

“At night.” He deadpanned.

“I think all this bed rest is making me restless.” I half-lied, since it was kinda true.

He eyed me suspiciously, but backed down. “Alright, but be no longer than half an hour.”

I nodded, and after he disappeared back into his room, I opened the door and crept into the night.

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

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cafephan · 7 months

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(realizing from scrolling back 1 (one) post on your blog that the answer is almost certainly yes lol, but I asked cause I wanted to know more about your experience since every show was so unique!)

so my tatinof experience for show one was me bricking it because i had uni in the morning then i had to make an excuse to leave at lunchtime to be back home in time for my friend at the time to pick me up and so we could make it into the show - but once i actually got home and got ready i got so into the swing of things and i remember the people sat in front of me turned around to stare because i started bawling as soon as dnp came on stage :)))) pretty sure i would’ve been subtweeted or posted

ALSO i am 99% certain i heard my username a couple of times, not sure if it’s because i posted i was there idk but it is a core memory - i don’t even know the context it was said in

interactive introverts show one was interesting as my train was delayed and i was convinced i was going to miss the show so the second i got into the train station i just told my friend to run and we ran across a city centre and i remember sagging against the wall outside practically heaving and the queue to get in was so long and people stared again but i did not give a flying damn, as soon as i got seated (and breathing normally) and the show started i started tearing up and my friend had to hold my hand as i got very emotional - i know i sound pathetic i am aware but these guys saved my life and seeing them irl hits me

my SECOND ii show is the biggie - i stayed over in my friend’s uni dorm the night before and the friend i was going to the show with (lily aka phangirlingforphan, long will her memory live on this site) arrived and whilst we were getting ready i posted a fic i wrote the night before as i couldn’t sleep (titled cars and parking lots, in case you want to read lmao) and i had an absolute meltdown on the way to the venue. when we were finally allowed in - WHICH by the way the staff were trying to not let me in and i was like hahahaha nice try i’m vip let me the fuck in - i started using up this bottle of cooling spray i brought from the train station as i both had heat sweats and it was scorching in temperature, when dnp came out i started crying and lily had to fix my makeup in the line, lily started making friends in the queue whilst i just tried not to cry and by the time we got to marianne at the front of the queue my bottle of cooling spray was empty and i just - still crying - set my phone to screen record and made sure lily was also filming it (we filmed for each other) and i had my meet and greet - i was blubbering the entire time and honestly i can’t bring myself to watch the video atm to tell you exactly what was said the whole time as now it makes me cringe but honestly just being in their presence was indescribable for me and yes i am the lamest person ever but i stand by that

i’ve always been a lonely person and have been able to count my friends on one hand so i spent (and continue to spend) most of my time online watching content and dnp got me through so many of my toughest times that i won’t go into but seeing these tours was therapeutic as hell for me and yes i would meet them again in a heartbeat to get a redo as i fucked my meet and greet up by crying the whole time but those tours are so fucking special to me and nobody can take those away

also i again heard my username at the second ii show and refused to turn around - not even sure if they knew it was me but hey ho

#i also went to wad but you only asked about tatinof and ii so :)#this is also very brief sorry!

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sapphicsoie · 7 months

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73 questions: 1 year later

one. on a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now? solid 5

two. describe yourself in a hashtag? #hater

three. if you could do a love scene with anyone, who would it be? maybe maya hawke? or audrey plaza.... now i'm thinking ab audrey plaza...

four. if your life was a musical, what would the marquee say? "and so it continues"

five. what’s one thing people don’t know about you? this is hard bc i literally never shut the fuck up especially on the internet, but i guess most people don't know i'm from bum-fuck alabama bc i don't have a southern accent

six. what’s your wake-up ritual? i read in bed for an hour, make a cup of tea and breakfast (usually cereal or toast), and then get ready, i always have music on

seven. what’s your go-to bed ritual? i don't go on my phone an hour before bed, but i listen to music or rain noises, take a hot bath, read whilst in the bath, do skincare, get into my pyjamas, read a bit more, put on aquaphor, go to sleep (i've been trying to work on my sleep hygiene, i don't think it's working.)

eight. what’s your favourite time of day? i've weirdly become a big fan of 4:30 - 6am ?? despite not being an early bird, usually i wake up at 4am against my will

nine. your go-to for having a good laugh? brittany broski!! either on youtube or tiktok

ten. dream country to visit? i wanna hike in the alps so i guess switzerland? also new zealand would be cool

eleven. what’s the biggest surprise you’ve ever had? finding out my dad is not my biological father and i have a half-sister who lives in france

twelve. heels or flats/sneakers? sneakers

thirteen. vintage or new? vintage furniture & trinkets, new clothes

fourteen. who do you want to write your obituary? if my mom were still alive, her. if not, probably my friend virginia, we've been friends since grade 9

fifteen. style icon? noora amalie saetre from skam, also elio perlman from call my by your name (i wish i had the body of a twink ngl)

sixteen. what are three things you cannot live without? my adhd medication (lmao), my baby blanket, notebook and mechanical pencil, or something to write in

seventeen. what’s one ingredient you put in everything? probably butter lmao

eighteen. what 3 people living or dead would you want to make dinner for? my grandma, daniel handler (lemony snicket), and giula tofana

nineteen. what’s your biggest fear in life? dying alone and never falling in love again

twenty. window or aisle seat? aisle seat #gopissgirl

twenty-one. what’s your current tv obsession? i am too busy to watch tv, instead i watch stuff like mike's mic or the broski report on youtube- but if i had to choose probably fleabag or abbott elementary

twenty-two. favourite app? i think obsidian is really cool for note taking and such, i'm also guilty of loving tiktok

twenty-three. secret talent? i am really flexible because i'm hypermobile lmao

twenty-four. the most adventurous thing you’ve ever done in your life? study abroad in norway :)

twenty-six. how would you define yourself in three words? earnest, persistent, and sadly, insecure.

twenty-seven. favourite piece of clothing you own? my emotional support uni sweatshirt that looks like a hand-me-down from the 80s because i wash it so often (i spill food on it lmao)

twenty-eight. a must-have clothing item that everyone should have? cozy knitted sweater

twenty-nine. a superpower you would want? shape shifting, always and forever

thirty. what’s inspiring you in life right now? honestly therapy?? idk i feel like i'm finally making progress and working on issues i was in denial about

thirty-one. the best piece of advice you’ve received? my dad wrote me a letter for my 16th birthday since he had to miss it. he said "it is always darkest before dawn"

thirty-two. best advice you’d give your teenage self? nothing lasts forever. also please don't let her treat you like that

thirty-three. a book everyone should read? tiny, beautiful things by cheryl strayed

thirty-four. what would you like to be remembered for? leaving the world a bit better than when i found it, whether that be on a small or grander scale.

thirty-five. how do you define beauty? obvi it's subjective, but i think someone or something that warms me inside, something so beautiful it brings me joy? also women

thirty-six. what do you love most about your body? i love my freckles and my eyes. i have blue eyes with a gold ring in the middle :)

thirty-seven. best way to take a rest/decompress? taking a hot bath whilst eating two bomb pops and reading fanfiction

thirty-eight. favourite place to view art? a museum, i love the gift shops hehe

thirty-nine. if your life was a song, what would the title be? "how long will this last?"

forty. if you could master one instrument, what would it be? piano!!

forty-one. if you had a tattoo, where would it be? probably somewhere relatively hidden, like my ankle or ribs

forty-two. dolphins or koalas? koalas, dolphins are literally evil

forty-three. what’s your spirit animal? according to a random quizzes, a bumblebee

forty-four. best gift you’ve ever received? tbh the best gift i received i never got because my ex and i broke up before she could give it to me, it was tickets to play with sea otters at the aquarium. if i have to choose a gift i actually received, probably my silver bean earrings from tiffany's that i got for my high school graduation

forty-five. best gift you’ve given? i gave my sister lily of the valley earrings (our birth month flower) + a candle with her fav fandom theme

forty-six. what’s your favourite board game? ...does cards against humanity count?

forty-seven. what’s your favourite colour? i've been fond of a dark cool toned red, forest green, and sage lately

forty-eight. least favourite colour? orange or any bright colour

forty-nine. diamond or pearls? pearls 4ever

fifty. drugstore makeup or designer? designer but there are the occasional drugstore products i love

fifty-one. blow-dry or air-dry? air-dry, i cannot blow-dry my hair to save my life :')

fifty-two. pilates or yoga? pilates, i love reformer pilates tbh

fifty-three. coffee or tea? tea unless it's a cappuccino

fifty-four. what’s the weirdest word in the english language? cattywampus like ??

fifty-five. dark chocolate or milk chocolate? milk chocolate, i have grown to enjoy dark or semisweet though

fifty-six. stairs or elevators? elevators i have a bad knee from tearing my meniscus lmao

fifty-seven. summer or winter? winter, i hate sweating

fifty-eight. you are stuck on an island, you can pick one food to eat forever without getting tired of it, what would you eat? logically it should be something healthy but my heart is saying great grains cranberry almond crunch cereal with fairlife 2% milk

fifty-nine. a dessert you don’t like? any fruit-flavoured ice cream,

sixty. a skill you’re working on mastering? not being ashamed of my hobbies, like writing, being kinder to myself.

sixty-one. best thing to happen to you today? went to knitting club :))

sixty-two. worst thing to happen to you today? waking up for work with what i fear is bronchitis

sixty-three. best compliment you’ve ever received? i usually get told i'm funny and have pretty eyes so i guess that?

sixty-four. favourite smell? this is so embarrassing but probably whatever they spray in abercrombie and fitch stores ?? i do love a yankee candle though (specifically christmas eve)

sixty-five. hugs or kisses? hugs

sixty-six. if you made a documentary, what would it be about? pro-ed communities on social media + the new potrayal of diet culture on social media (i'm writing my senior thesis on this)

sixty-seven. last piece of content you consumed that made you cry? i can't really remember but i would say a tiktok about dogs aging with the text "to be loved is to be changed"

sixty-eight. lipstick or lipgloss? lipgloss!! i have lipstick dysphoria

sixty-nine. sweet or savoury? sweet, i always need a lil treat

seventy. girl crush? i am a lesbian all of my crushes are women, atm probably havana rose liu

seventy-one. a song you can listen to on repeat? i don't smoke by mitski

seventy-two. if you could switch lives with someone for a day, who would it be? zendaya, i want to date tom holland and be hot as fuck

seventy-three. what are you most excited for about this time in your life? graduating and being free from homework and exams, finally having a place to live for more than 9 months at a time

link to 2022 73 questions

#this was originally a tag game soooo if you see this you're tagged lmao #g.text #i'm mostly doing this for me

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angelkhi-reclibrary · 3 years

Text

babydoll - b.b

pairing: bucky x reader (uni au)

summary: there’s a first time for everything.

warnings: SMUT (18+ minors dni), p in v, loss of virginity, language, choking, fingering, mentions of cum, sexy times, unprotected sex, very unrealistic sex (wrap it before you tap it. pee after sex I beg of you)

Word count: 994

a little note: wrote this whilst I was very drunk (legally, I’m english) very little plot. not edited very well I’m sorry! hope you enjoy <3

You and Bucky you're good together, you're his girl, he knows that. But the woman writhing beneath him begging for more is a far cry from the shy girl he fell in love with, but my god does he love it.

He has you where he wants you, where you want to be, losing yourself on his fingers singing his name like a prayer as your second orgasm takes your body. Waves crash over you, a rioting calmness awakening every sense within you, but your want more, need more.

Bucky adds a third finger, insisting that two won't be enough for him to not hurt you, that he wants to make this as painless and possible for you. You knew the second you saw the outline of his hard cock through his jeans that he's bigger than any toy you'd taken, and Bucky knew that he didn't want your first time to be painful and he sure as hell didn't want to be the one causing that pain.

The sight of you completely at his mercy purely from the rhythms of his fingers had him painfully hard, his hips grinding into the mattress just to find some form of relief. Your words are merely whimpers against his lips, whispering so sweetly just how much you need him.

"Please Buck... I need you so bad" Your voice isn't your own anymore, the desperation and pleasure twisting your pleas into borderline pornographic moans.

"I know my sweet girl, I know. Don't wanna hurt you, wanna get you ready for my cock. " Bucky’s voice is muffled into your neck as he latches onto your skin once more, another hickey to add to the many on your already littering your chest.

"Please, feels so good James please." Your hips meet his with each thrust of his fingers, his pace increasing when you moan his name.

"You sure you're ready?" Bucky’s voice is laced with concern, his number one priority being that he hurts you as little as possible.

"Mmm. Please."

"Need to hear you say it babydoll.” He now grinds his hips into yours, his boxers pushed off some moments before

"Yes l- fuck Bucky please just fuck me." He positions himself, running the head of his cock against your folds, catching your sensitive nub a few times before slowly entering you.

The stretch is borderline painful, no matter how much he'd worked you open beforehand but my god does it feel good. He's tentative at first, your tiny whimpers worrying him, it's only when you clench around him, when you throw your head back into the sheets body limp with pleasure, does he move.

He thrusts up into you filling you to the brim, thumbing your clit to take away any remaining pain basking in how sensitive you already are.

"You're taking me so well sweetheart." He picks up the pace a little, taken by the blissed out look on your face, the feeling of your fingers running across his sensitive scalp sending a shiver down his spine.

"Perfect little pussy all for me." Bucky’s hands reach for your hips trying to steady himself, trying to control his pace and not take you as he so desperately wanted.

"More, please Bucky, I want more." Your eyes meet his and in a feral moan he's fucking up into, his assault on your clit matching the pace of his thrusts sending your legs into a quivering mess. There’s a fire in his eyes you haven’t seen before and his thrusts get quicker, to an almost bruising pace just wanting to make his girl happy.

"That's my girl, gonna cum all over my cock huh?" Your nod is frantic as your body is driven closer to release, the feeling of Bucky’s lips against your sensitive nipples stimulating your further than ever before.

"M'so close Buck,"

You’re whining now, a few tears running down your cheeks as Bucky ruins you in a way that’s so sweet and so good you’d beg for it each hour of the day if you had to. Just to have him inside of you, a feeling so full and heavy, that’s all you wanted.

"Good girl, come on my cock, take what's yours."

Your yell is silenced quickly by Bucky lips, swallowing your moans as he fucks your through your orgasm. His tongue rolls over your own as he moans into the kiss, it's lazy, sloppy almost. Just a means for further release. He thrusts into you once more, chasing his own release his hand coming around your throat as he fucks you through your third and final orgasm of the night, not a heartbeat behind you when he finishes, realising ropes of cum into your happily awaiting cunt.

His hips rut against you a couple more times, the sheer pleasure of having you pushing his body to exhaustion. Finally pulling out of you, he marvels at the sight of his cum leaking out of you. Your perfect cunt all open full of him, only for Bucky to see.

"You okay? You were so good for me." His kiss is soft against your forehead, a vast contrast to the man he had been a few moments before. He thumbs away the few tears still on your cheeks softly awaiting your response, lost in how perfect you look beneath his large frame. A nod is all you can muster, your body on fire the soft ache leaving you wanting more.

“Thank you for trusting me, babydoll.” Your eyes are barely open when he kisses you one final time, his breath tickling your cheek as it finds a steady rhythm, fingers tracing invisible patters into the skin on your hips, pulling you against him settling there for the night. He watches as your shoulders rise and fall in sheer exhaustion, thinking of all the ways he could wake you the next morning, anything to see you so perfectly undone beneath him one more time.

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #bucky xreader #the winter soldier #bucky au #soft!bucky #marvel smut #bucky #bucky imagine

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izzyrmiller · 2 years

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I Watched “My Mad Fat Diary” For the First Time and it Uncovered Memories From my Teenage Years

Last week, I watched the 2013 E4 British teen comedy TV series, “My Mad Fat Diary”. It was my first time watching the show despite many of my friends hyping it up, often in shock when I told them I hadn’t seen it before.

It was added to Netflix this month, scoring a place in the “Popular” category. Considering I had finished watching the new series of “You” and felt maybe it was time to stray away from re-watching my comfort show, (cue “I’ll be there for you” by the Rembrandts), I decided to give MMFD a watch.

I absolutely loved every second of it. It’s the kind of show that has you in fits of laughter one second and reaching for the Kleenex the next. The show has flowing storylines that make for great binge watching and features actors such as the ever-brilliant Jodie Comer and talented directors including BAFTA winning Tim Kirkby.

The reason the show resonated with me so much was because the protagonist, Rae Earl, reminded me so much of my teenage self.

Rae Earl is not fictitious. She is a writer and broadcaster who wrote the book “My Fat Mad Teenage Diary” in 2007, which later became the very show I find myself fangirling over today. In the show, Rae is portrayed by Glaswegian actress Sharon Rooney. When we meet Rae, she’s just been discharged from a psychiatric hospital in Lincolnshire in the mid 90’s. Rae is 16 years old, tall, awkward and weighs 16 stone. She’s also funny, bright, obsessed with music and boy crazy.

The show follows Rae as she navigates the already hectic and often difficult life of a 16-year-old girl. It tackles issues of mental health, bullying, sexual assault, body dysmorphia and difficult relationships.

Whilst I was watching the show, I found myself reflecting on my own experiences as a teenager.

I, like Rae, was lucky enough to have a strong group of friends around me growing up. However, I too was tall, awkward, and about 3 dress sizes bigger than my most of female friends.

Scenes including the absolute dread that Rae feels when invited to a pool party, the fears she has about eating in front of others and the scary prospect of getting undressed in front of her love interest Finn, played by Nico Mirallegro, all mirrored experiences I had growing up.

What is great about MMFD is that it portrays an extremely accurate portrayal of mental illness, not just regarding Rae but the other characters as well. Chloe, played by Jodie Comer, deals with traumas such as abortion and domestic abuse. Dan Cohen plays Archie, originally a love interest of Rae’s who is struggling with his sexuality. Archie comes out as gay and is victim to homophobia at college.

Even the adults in the show are used to portray life’s difficulties. Rae’s mum, Linda, who is played by the brilliant Claire Rushbrook, struggles with parenting her complicated daughter. She marries her Tunisian boyfriend Karim who is an undocumented immigrant and wrestles with her daughter’s lack of acceptance for him and determination to meet her real father. Ian Hart plays Kester Gill, Rae’s therapist who aids in helping Rae overcome her mental health issues whilst secretly dealing with a divorce.

At its core, coming of age shows such as MMFD will forever be important. They remind us that life is not perfect and that we are not alone in our struggles. Part of me wonders if I had of watched this show when I was 16, I would have felt comforted that there was a female protagonist on TV that echoed my struggles as a teen. Sure, we had Skins and Glee that did their part in representing those who didn’t fit the status quo but shows like MMFD provide an authentic yet often disregarded school experience for so many.

In the finale of MMFD, Rae is on her way to uni, she’s mentally stronger, braver, and ready for a new chapter of her life. I hope for more shows like this that empower young people and help them recognise their true potential, despite their insecurities and issues with their mental health

#writers #journalism #mental health #my mad fat diary #tv #british #student #television #coming of age #first post

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dallonm-archive · 3 years

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TABBY | SHORT STORY UPDATES #4

In Tabby, a reclusive man who’d rather exist as a phantom than a human notices the neighbours aren’t feeding their cat, and is sucked into a world that breaks the stillness of his own.

Genre: literary fiction, “soft” noir (??)

POV: 1st person present, very observational and detached for most of the narrative

Setting: late 1940s/early 1950s, unnamed US city but implied to be Los Angeles

Atmosphere: a summer that’s sickly, orange juice, the smell of paint, shaky hands, peach skies, sunflowers, blood splatter, a cats purr, the gut feeling that something is very, very wrong

Literal Logline: this cat is my friend and he doesn’t judge me over silly little things like the murder i just committed (also i think he might be god??)

Hi I wrote a story about a cat and got way too into it and accidentally made it about murder and now it might be my favourite thing I’ve written! Lets talk about it! cw for murder and blood imagery!

general taglist ; @kowlazovdi @avi-burton-writing @ryns-ramblings @melpomeny @kitblogsthings @ezrathings @aetherwrites @bookphobe @haldimilks @alicewestwater @bookpacking @shaelinwrites @writingamongthecoloredroses @harehearts @zemnian @onlyganymede @theelectricfactory @write-like-babs @oceancold @notphilosopherstudentblog @veiliza @sidhewrites @wolf-oak @feverdreamwritings @oasis-of-you

This entire story sparked from this photo, which I couldn’t find a specific source for, but is cute and a Mood nonetheless!

My thought process was essentially “man sits on bench with cat...........and also.......murder?” I don’t know why my brain is like this!!!

I imagine this story being set in the late 40s/early 50s, but haven’t pinpointed exactly, in a suburb of Los Angeles (but this also isn’t clear in the story as of now). This used to be my go to setting when I was really into noir, and it was fun to return to that in a non-noir piece! This started out as purely literary, but now I do see some noir elements here. They’re just very subtle - nor was I intentionally trying to capture any - and the story misses some of the fundamental conventions. To me it’s almost like...soft noir? Noir lite?? I feel like it’s inherently noir and inherently not noir at the same time but I love the vibes of it a lot. There’s this “glow” to the story that I can’t exactly put into words, like a very subtle golden hour that is very tranquil and strangely undisturbed by the general chaos going on in the actual story

I took this setting, the vibes, and the idea of a character with an innate connection to this cat, plus a murder chucked somewhere in the middle and ran with it.

I wrote this over the course of a couple days, and it came very naturally! The prose is a little more sparse than my usual writing which made the process much quicker, and I’m really into this style at the moment. A lot of it is also internal thought, which y’all know is right up my alley. I really, really love the voice in this. It starts very unremarkable, but there is an unsettling undercurrent that grows and grows and it’s been very fun to blend the mundane and the creepy. This story really reignited my drive for short fiction because the trend lately has been coming up with an idea I love that just doesn’t translate on paper, but this one despite needing a good deal of work was very smooth!

I’d say this is my first successful attempt at a nameless/faceless character and it’s one of the most interesting experiences of character development I’ve had in a long time?? The only other time I’ve done this is in my story Rinse Cycle, but the narrator never really felt much like a character (which is very unusual for me), whereas the narrator in Tabby feels as fleshed out and nuanced as any of my characters with names or faces. I rarely focus on appearances for short story characters anyway, but I’ve never struggled with finding a name for a character and this narrator just Does Not want to be named. But I think that really fits him! He likes to be invisible and drift through life unnoticed, where he is merely an observer rather than a participant; so when he does get chucked into the middle of a very messy, very chaotic situation he essentially shuts down. I really like the tonal shift this creates where we go from a very detached narrative to very in the moment, very vivid and intense, like we go from 0 to 100 real quick. I don’t want to share a lot of plot details (which makes writing this a little frustrating sigh), but it ends with him committing a murder that, whilst intentional in the moment, is entirely impulsive and practically out of his control. He is not a natural killer and goes from barely being an emotional participant in his life to fully immersed in the moment and absolutely terrified by that. I’m really looking forward to digging deeper into his psychological state as I work on this draft because Boy We Don’t Have Time To Unpack All This. A quick summary of him would be though

people watcher, picks up more than he realises

living in a house he inherited from his dead father

made eye contact with a stranger and it was physically painful

quietly unhinged

doesn’t feel like he’s a person

oh no, now i have to face the consequences of my actions!

I’m trying to limit the amount of excerpts I post when it comes to short stories [because I am always basing the value of my content on prose I share which is! not healthy!], so the only writing I’m going to share is this little description that’s not very plot relevant, but is a good demonstration of this narrator’s funky little voice:

Every morning, at seven sharp, I routinely sit on the swinging bench behind my house to eat over easy eggs and burnt sausages. I still don’t understand how to cook meat. Behind me, cars murmur and sputter into the city, housewives chatter from their separate square gardens and I do not exist in the same reality as them. I am boxed in by off-white picket fence. The fence dividing my neighbours and I – a saffron coloured house with sunflowers bordering the perimeter – is painted pinkish red like an infected tongue. Every morning, I routinely think, that I do not know what’s stranger: how the red jolts the sun house’s otherwise harmonious existence, or the way the job was never finished. It’s not as if the painter died, because if the painter died there would be a corpse; perhaps blood spatter would darken against red wood, perhaps paint would pool out of the dropped can and mimic the presence of an exit wound.

Y’all might be wondering, where does the cat fit in all of this? And the answer is it’s complicated! In terms of form, we bounce between observations/interactions of the cats behaviour and the “main plot” of the story - which is to do with the rather unhinged new neighbours disrupting our neighbours unremarkable life. Thematically, the cat definitely symbolises a lot of things and opens up a lot of conversations that I still haven’t polished because well, we’re on draft one and I was focused on some funky Cat Descriptions. Some fun ideas include the distinction between human and animal, how capitalism is impeding on our chances to live a fulfilled life, and the idea that all humans do is overcomplicate everything. It’s presence also acts as a grounding technique for the narrator, since he so easily detaches himself from the rest of the world. The writing started with a scene of the act killing a mouse and how clean and simple it all is that I’m lowkey obsessed with, and is definitely some non-subtle foreshadowing for what comes later.

I like to joke that the cat is God because sometimes the narrator says some weird shit like, how the Earth stops orbiting the sun when the cat goes to sleep and how the cat doesn’t need to worry about predators because it hasn’t invented any. So the cat is not officially “God” but like,...,,It Might Be

Quickly adding this to the end but! Your girl finally has a (working title) for her collection! I’m not ready to share it yet because I’m still not 100% on it, I feel it matches the stories thematically but not always tonally, however it captures the core idea that I’ve been following so it’s good enough for me. This was a really important step because as much as I tried I could Not Visualise a collection at all without a title, which is v annoying because titling a collection is the worst!!! I was fine just writing short stories and letting them exist but I really wanted to build them as a cohesive collection as I went, and now I really like where it’s going - it’s definitely got a long way to go but I feel like I’ve finally managed to take control of it and steer it into a direction that reflects what I enjoy to write. I spent a lot of months clinging onto the collection I started in late 2018 before The Great Writing Hiatus Of 2019, even though it really didn’t resonate with me anymore, so I’m very happy to feel like I’m now on the right path and I feel the collection really shows my growth as a writer this year! This is definitely not set in stone, but I have a lot of fun imagining the potential order of the stories and right now it looks like:

[Some of these are stories unfinished, and some of them are finished and I just haven’t talked about them because I am the Worst at remembering to write short story updates, but tbh I’m thinking of just talking about them all briefly in a big post about the collection when I write a proper intro for it in the future]

We love to see it! I’m hoping to put a lot of time into this collection in 2021 and get some submissions rolling too (I had the goal of submitting at least one story by the end of this year and I! Don’t know if that’ll happen but January definitely). I’m likely going to be taking most of the year out of uni due to the whole global and mental turmoil rn [also I’d have to apply for writing masters atm and that is NOT happening lmfao], so I’m v v excited to have some extra writing time and see where this all goes!

#atlastracking #am writing #short stories #writeblr #i am once again posting at an odd time when my dash is ~dead~#also playing around w how i format these posts as always

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pinencurls · 4 years

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“I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”

Hiii so this is my entry to @stellarboystyles‘s three year anniversary fic challenge! I’ve been busy with getting ready for classes starting and balancing other stuff so I wrote it on and off for a week and a bit but I hope you all enjoy! Feedback is so so encouraged and appreciated <3

Here’s my masterlist of some other stuff I’ve written x

Enemies (more like friends but oops) to lovers, prompt 9 “I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”

14k+ :) Not read through sorry! pls let me know of any mistakes and I’ll correct them <3 (also i k n o w the title's bad but i couldn’t think of anything, pls feel free to leave any recs.)

- - - -

It isn’t that I hate Harry. He just makes me feel...insecure. He’s never said or done anything directly but it’s hard to feel good about yourself when all your closest confidants seem to compare you to somebody else, somebody they so clearly hold higher above you. There wasn’t a single day I could meet a mutual friend of mine and Harry’s and not have them sing his praises, and apparently everyone was a mutual friend. I’ve known Julia and Theo for years, we all met in uni when they first started going out but it wasn’t until a year ago that I somehow ended up finding myself a regular within the friendship group they’d formed when they both went into the music and fashion industries. They had ties everywhere and after a pure coincidence of running into them and their circle at a pub, almost all my weekends were spent in various art galleries or new restaurants owned by somebody’s cousin or the guy they met last night at a Fleetwood Mac concert.

I’d met Harry about five months into hanging out with the group. He’d known them a lot longer than I had, weaving his way into the little pockets of interesting people for years since the x factor. I was busy with work the first few times he was in town but after a while, Nick, the persistent party planner of the group who always managed to wrangle us together, insisted that I just had to meet him. . . . . .

Eleanor’s house is huge and buzzing with hundreds of strangers. I cling to Julia and Theo’s side, Nick and Eleanor are nowhere in sight - most likely playing host or drinking too much chardonnay in another corner of the house. These four are the only people I can say I really know here, sure there are a few familiar faces on the dance floor, either from having met them at any of Eleanor's past elaborate parties or just because of they’re not so subtle fame. That’s another thing, all the people sipping wine and dancing around me are fairly...well known. Either just within the industry or to the general public too, they’d all gain fairly high status. It was a fluke really that I got on so well with Julia when we first met on a fashion course in uni.

Julia had big goals, all of which she was on track to fulfil, that conflicted slightly with mine. Her goals consisted of runway show models clad in designer brands she might one day contribute to whereas mine were more...anti, that whole world. It took a few years to find a steady footing but eventually, I was proud of where I’d ended up: a comfortable little cubby in the fashion and sustainability columns of a handful of independent magazines. After a few nights out with Julia, I was pleasantly surprised to find her shared interests and solidarity in my work and ambitions of her own within the same ideology. But whilst that’s all well and good, I’m still very much the small indie journalist that slips through the cracks when it comes to small talk at these kinds of events. It became apparent pretty quickly that my latest articles on how fast fashion had begun its destruction of a liveable environment in developing countries weren’t as relevant or interesting to the people promoting Prada and Calvin Klein as the next met gala theme.

“Do you want another drink?” Theo asks from beside me, pulling my focus from my scan of the room.

“No thanks..I’m good.” I murmur, debating how long I have to stay before I can slip out and feel a little less awkward around all the people I have no clue how to talk to. “Think I’m gonna head off actually..”

“Look I know you hate networking, but this is just a chill get-together yeah?” Theo chuckles, squeezing my shoulder before taking another sip from his gin and tonic. “We’re in the same boat about these snooty things but tonight’s not like that, relax a bit will ya.”

Theo works mostly with small-time music artists, producing debut albums and such so we share the same deep discomfort for the many events we often find ourselves at. It’s how we got close really, week after week we’d trail behind Julia as she strikes up conversations with Hollywood elite...and he always makes getting piss drunk in someone’s pool house exceptionally fun.

Before I can further any excuses about getting home to start on the legitimate and ever-growing pile of work deadlines on my desk, a tall man in far too much Gucci to belong anywhere but in a room full of models and artists makes a beeline straight from the bar to our awkward party.

“Harry!” Theo shouts, embracing the slightly tipsy man in a hug he reciprocates.

“It’s been too long mate, how ‘ave you been?” Harry cheers, leaning back from the hug and grinning down at his friend.

“I’ve been good - busy, enjoying the free bar as always.” Theo jokes, motioning between his and my matching G and T’s. Harry’s eyes wander up from the drink, realisation dawning on his face as he smiles again.

“Ah and you must be the famous Olivia,” He reaches his hand out to mine and shakes it lightly. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself, ‘m Harry, it’s good to finally meet you, love.”

“Likewise.” I smile, trying to suppress the blush his words of endearment tease. I can’t deny the natural charm and charisma everyone always talks about now that it’s hitting me straight on. There’s something about the way he doesn’t hesitate to hold eye contact just that little bit longer that makes the room go still for just a second. He’d got it down to a T.

“Aww I see you two have finally met!” Nick interrupts. My hand falls from Harry’s grip as he’s welcomed into another hug. “About fucking time as well, been trying get this one to take a night off for weeks!”

“I literally came out with you last Thursday!” I counter, not missing the smirk setting on Harry’s face as he watches Nick and I’s back and forth. “And the Saturday before, come to think of it I’m always out with you Nicky.”

“Not when Harry’s in town though n’ that’s a different kinda night.” Nick laughs, his beer sloshing slightly in his free hand as his other remains draped over Harry’s shoulders.

That was maybe the first sign of my slight resentment for Harry. All night I wandered around with Theo hearing little bits of conversations, all surrounding the star of the party. I understood this wasn’t his doing, his humility was clear in every one of his bashful attempts to turn the conversation away from his growing achievements and onto literally anything else. He was, however, a self-proclaimed narcissist. Every time somebody would swoon over him and insist he stay the topic of conversation, a smirk tugged at his lips and stayed there as he consumed the endless and animated praise from almost all the party guests.

I’d expected some of his qualities to be untrue, learning from the past never to believe blindly of someone’s pure character when you didn’t truly know them. Especially when they frequented the gossip columns. But it wasn’t him so much, he was true to his motto of kindness and courteous even as people fawned over him, it was more the attention that surrounded him. As the night went on it became clear what Nick meant even if he didn’t know it himself. A night out with Harry was different because everyone made sure to capitalize off how different he made them feel.

. . . . .

“Can I get you anything else M’am?” The young waitress asks as she clears up my empty mug and saucer. My eyes falter a little as they adjust from the blue light of my laptop I’ve been staring at for the last twenty minutes.

“Um- oh please could I just get a refill?” I ask.

“Sure thing - mint tea right?” She smiles, adjusting the mug in her hands to make a quick note.

“Yeah..s’perfect - thank you.” She’s gone before she hears my delayed gratitudes, definitely used to the throngs of bemused writers tapping away at their laptops for hours.

I turn back to my open google doc. So far it’s written in two parts I have no idea how to connect and my senseless rereading hasn’t resulted in any legitimate progress in almost an hour. I’d accept the rut I’m stuck in and work on something else for the day if I didn’t only have the day. Last night had been filled with plans of settling in early and finishing the last two thousand words on an upcoming sustainable clothing brand. That all went out the window of course as my phone buzzed off the kitchen counter with Nick’s insistence of yet another night out to celebrate ending the work week - his was quite different to mine. It was easy to ignore the persistent beeping of my phone as new texts and call notifications popped up every three minutes, but less so when the rhythmic bursts of noise were replaced by knocks on my front door.

Within 40 minutes of opening it to Nick in a silk shirt and jeans too skinny for someone pushing thirty, I was two drinks in and dancing to Blue DeTiger with a pair of hands on my waist that I didn’t entirely recognise. It was just the six of us: Me, Nick, Ellie, Theo, Julia and Harry.

He was hard to ignore, not that I was trying particularly hard. On the drive over, the limited backseat space in Nick’s car and close proximity had practically forced me into his lap. Even with thighs pressed tightly against each other, we hardly talked, a few polite hellos here and there and then silence as we listened to Eleanor recall her latest night with whichever blonde bassist was her ‘soulmate’ that week. The whole ride over, Harry kept his hands on the thigh closest to the door and leant his shoulders the same way as to touch me as little as possible - which was still quite a lot considering the packed five seater pushing seven passengers. It was fairly common knowledge we weren’t close and I got the feeling he wasn’t too keen on me, but he could at least not act like touching me would be the worst thing ever.

As the night went on he clung to Theo, ever the cuddly drunk, and I stayed more to the pleasant stranger I’d found on the dance floor.

No meanest was ever intended between us but I couldn’t help but watch the kindergarten like bitterness grow as everyone just loved him. We couldn’t go anywhere without a crying fan or two approaching the sweet and smiling man who always answered their questions affectionately and hugged them goodbye. The times he was out of town were always filled with comments about his absence, as if none of us were good enough without his added presence. I couldn’t help but wonder why they even bothered to bring me into their little group. The lack of closeness between Harry and I felt almost like a lack of closeness to the group as a whole, despite how much my individual friendships with everyone advanced.

Just as I thank the waitress - Alice, her name tag read, and take the first sip of my third tea (I had to switch after a particularly strong starter coffee) I notice a familiar man out the corner of my eye looking just as rough as me. Of course he’s wearing it better than I am.

Harry collects a drink from the counter and bows his head slightly in thanks, turning and catching my eye just as he’s on his way out. He waves with his free hand and shoots me a candid smile before making a quick change in direction towards my small table.

“Long time no see,” He pulls the chair opposite me out a little as he chuckles at his own joke. He perches lightly, temporarily. “How’ve you been?”

“A little hungover, I won’t lie..” I laugh, surprised by the whole encounter. “You?”

“Same, I might have had a shot or two too many,” I nod knowingly and shut my laptop softly. He sips what smells like coffee before going on. “Are ya workin? Sorry to interrupt.”

“Oh no- I mean I am but it doesn’t matter really, ‘ve kinda hit a dead end.” His eyes hover, waiting for me to go on. “I was gonna get it done last night but Nick had other plans..”

“Yeah Nick’ll do that to you,” He laughs, “What’re you writing ‘bout?”

He leans slightly forwards, holding eye contact and shuffling comfortably into his chair.

“Oh just this promotional piece on a new company, they’re hiring young women and training them to make these handmade clothes. They’re paying them above minimum wage and focusing on sustainability so this editor I’ve written for before offered me it.” I’m not really sure how sincere he is in his curiosity, he always seems to have time to listen when Julia has a new design plan or Theo’s found a new artist but that’s different really. I stop before I start to ramble, just in case.

“That’s so cool, what kinda stuff are they making?” He prompts, resting his chin on his fist, imitating the posture of an eager little kid.

“They've started stocking stuff by other independent artists but mostly dungarees and these cool cord trousers, they’d suit you actually, even got some 70s style ones.” Now that the two worlds are colliding in my head, I can’t help but imagine Harry in a pair of their forest green cords, the wide legs would almost bury his vans but a part of me is pretty sure he’d love them.

“Thanks, if they come at your recommendation I might have to get my hands on a pair,” He smiles, his tone’s a lot different to the usual polite cheer, it’s difficult to place where it’s landed before he’s talking again. “Reminds me of that show you took us to with the upcycled clothes, all those dungarees made of old quilts - remember?”

It’d been a small exhibit just outside of London I’d mentioned offhandedly and somehow ended up showing everyone around. It was nice to have them all in my world for an evening. Marcus, a friend of mine from college, had put it together and created a lot of the pieces. He and the others I’d met through my work were fairly shocked to say the least when Harry Styles came traipsing through the doors behind me. All night he quietly asked Nick questions, to which Nick only responded by motioning towards me and wandering off to the bar.

“I do - I’m surprised you do to be honest.” It slips before I can decide if it sounds passive aggressive or not. To be fair, it had been a surprise to me, meeting everyone at the train station and watching Harry and Nick scramble out a taxi and run towards us. He’d been dressed in proper gallery attire and seemed genuinely thrilled to be joining in on the rare night I actually played host.

“Course I do, it was a good night...I’d choose it over Nick’s tequila Tuesdays anyday.” His phone buzzes on the table, a text popping up in green. “Oh I- my manager’s waiting sorry.”

A sheepish smile is accompanied by a loose arm movement towards the door where, out on the street, I see Jeff. He’s shaking his head and motioning for Harry to hurry up. Had Harry sat down to talk to me whilst his manager had been waiting this whole time?

“It was good running into you, good luck with it all,” He stands. “See you friday yeah?”

I’d totally forgotten about his “Whenever I’m in town Friday film night.” until he mentioned it. I’d been twice in the past and stayed quietly to my corner of the sofa, only watching as everyone else laughed at whatever romcom had been chosen that night.

“I-maybe.” He shakes his head as I smile, not quite ready to commit a whole evening to watching Nick raid Harry’s wine cellar.

“You better, I’m gonna need to hear more ‘bout those cords.” He points his hand in a kind of joking reprimand/wave before he’s gone back down the aisle of tables to the door where Jeff ruffles a hand through his hair and laughs when his hands fly to fix the now birdnest of brown curls.

I open my laptop back up, skimming over the last few lines I wrote to get myself back on track. I take a sip and my tea’s gone cold.

. . . . .

“Are you coming to Harry’s tonight?” Eleanor asks down the phone, her voice chipper as she no doubt raids her closet.

“Maybe, I don’t know..I’ve got this deadline Monday morning that I’m nowhere near meeting.”

“Come on Liv, we haven’t seen you all properly together since last month, and last week doesn’t count it was too loud to actually talk!” She chimes in, the sound of clothes being tossed to the floor clear in the distant background. “Have you got a problem with Harry or something?”

“No Elle, of course I don’t-”

“Then why do you guys never talk? You hardly come with us when he’s around and when you do you barely even say hello.” Eleanor complains, she’s mentioned it in the past but it’s been easy to blow off with excuses of how busy he usually was making his way around the room to greet everyone or how we just hadn’t known each other that long and weren't particularly close yet.

“I just...I don’t know, I don’t think he likes me very much.” I pause. I still haven't decided what last Saturday was in the cafe. “We’re not really close and I’d prefer not to spend another night listening to people tell him - and everyone else - how great he is.”

“You’re saying that like he’s some arrogant twit, if you came out with us more you’d see what he’s really like around his friends. Or you know, you could actually talk to him when we’re together and see that he’s not a dick?”

It was a fair point. I haven’t made much of an effort over the past year to spend any time with him outside of larger gatherings or to have genuine conversations with him that went past the weather or a new jacket one of us had on. Maybe he really is a good guy away from all the pretentious crowds and watchful eyes he usually called to our group. He’d certainly seemed different in the quiet Saturday surroundings of Blondies Coffee Roasters in between sips of coffee.

“Okay, okay yeah I’ll see you there.” We hang up a couple of minutes later and I’m left alone in my kitchen again.

. . . . .

“Hey!” Harry cheers as the door swings open to reveal him in yet another pair of flared pants that hung comfortably around his waist. “Come in, come in.”

We all pile in through the doorway as he steps aside. Arms weaving through each other as we hang coats and jackets and Julia passes Harry the fruit platter she’d made (and scolded us all for picking at on the drive over.)

“Oh very appropriate,” Harry laughs as he uncovers the tray to reveal an array of sliced watermelon, strawberries and grapes, He sets the fruit down on the table in the lounge for us all to eat and shakes his head lightly. I look up at Julia for an explanation but she’s too busy claiming the comfiest loveseat for the night. “I’m never telling you anything again, Jules.”

Julia and Harry tease each other for a moment more until Theo catches my confused stares and laughs to himself.

“Harry wrote a song ‘bout fruit- another one actually,” Theo starts, tucking himself beside Julia and letting her take over before he can finish. “S’not just about fruit though is it H?”

Harry blushes slightly and settles his glare on Julia as he carries six wine glasses through to the table.

“‘S about watermelon, it just has some..” He clears his throat as he fumbles for his next sentence. “Other themes to it too.”

“As if mate,” Theo’s laughter booms, “ Basically Liv, he wrote this new song the other day all about how much he loves to-”

“Watermelon!” Harry yells, pointing an accusatory finger at Theo. “S’all about how much I love watermelons...I’m a fruit guy.”

“Oh are we talking about the pussy song?”

All heads snap round to see Nick, obviously having let himself in and now chuckling softly to himself as he leans against the archway into the room.

“Oh sorry H, were you tryna give an interview answer?”

Harry just slaps his palm over his eyes and lets his shoulders shake for a minute before he bounces back to host mode.

“Okay!” I can’t help but notice how flushed the tips of his ears are as he claps his hands together, desperately trying to move on from the conversation. “Who wants wine?”

Fifteen minutes later everyone is settled onto the sofas with an array of throws between us and a layout of fruits, crisps and other mid rom com snacks that make me feel bad I left my flat in too much of a hurry to remember anything but hummus.

“Okay - Sixteen Candles, When Harry Met Sally or Mamma Mia?” Nick calls out, waving the tv remote above his head to get everyone's attention. An outpour of votes follows - you’d think between only six of us we’d be able to sort out a process by now but still we fall into momentary anarchy as the room divides.

“Mamma Mia is a classic!” Eleanor protests as Nick’s shaking his head.

“And Billy Crystal isn’t?” He yells back, eyes wide and genuinely offended.

“Colin Firth is arguably more iconic, Nick really, come on.” Theo sighs. He accepts the high fives Ellie and I reach out to him and saluts us both.

“We’ve all seen Mamma Mia before though, we’ve never watched When Harry Met Sally all together,” Julia points out, winning a smirk and nod of approval from Nick.

There’s a beat of silence while Nick weighs up the votes in his head. He tilts to the side slightly and eyes Harry up, our gazes following.

“Harry?”

“Ellie?”

“Come on, you’ve got the last vote here, and I know how much you like Meryl.” Nick gasps a little, the mention of Meryl Streep as a wager to win Harry over to his opposing team was definitely foul play in his eyes.

“Yeah but he loves When Harry Met Sally...and he is a narcissist..” Julia offers into the debate, a few snickers follow her comment before we all turn to look at Harry. We’re all already half a glass in but I could swear for just a moment his eyes lingered over me, fluttering down to my smile before turning back to announce his decision to Nick.

“I’m afraid I am in the mood for a bit of Abba,” Cheers and not so subtle murmurs of frustration fill the lounge as Nick scrolls through the Romance bar on Netflix before clicking on the film of just over half of our choosing.

Everyone goes quiet as the film starts, breaking out into bursts of song only as the cast does. From the conversation in the car, it’s pretty clear everyone has just been through a pretty tiring week. We all tended to pile our workload a little heavy so it was always nice to escape for a few hours at the weekend and relax together.

Just as Voulez-vous plays through the room, a slightly tipsy Nick leans into Harry to serenade the singer with his own rendition. The duo sway slightly, both narrowly avoiding Nick’s wild limbs before there’s a crash and Harry’s cursing.

“Oh- H, Sorry!”

Nick’s wine glass that’d been balanced on the coffee table in front of him moments before now lays on its side. The, luckily white, wine trickles down onto the rug but most noticeably splashes into Harry’s lap. I’m not entirely sure how he managed it, it must have flown forwards when it was knocked but Harry quickly stands to access the damage.

“I’m so sorry Harry I-”

“Don’t worry mate, I’m just gonna go change and toss these in the wash..could you wipe that up for me?” Nick nods, looking a little less cheerful and a lot more guilty now as Harry makes it way out the room. He calls behind him: “Keep watching I’ll only be a second!”

Nick finishes wiping down the table and rug just as Harry jogs back into the room. I don’t mean to and I’m never one to check people out..unless very subtly, but I can’t help but let my eyes linger a little.

He’s still in his plain tee but instead of his fancy pants he’s found some soft wash denim jeans. The whole look paired with his thick rimmed glasses and how his hair's gotten tousled about by Nick throughout the night just made him look so...ordinary. Not in any bad way, anyone who met Harry knew he could never be ordinary, no matter how casual he dressed, but something about seeing him abandon the more dressed up looks and go for the comfortable option just made him seem different.

In a second his green eyes are complimenting the look too as he gazes down at me.

“Hi,” He mouths, nobody’s taken much notice of his return, yet another musical number taking everyone’s attention. It’s my turn to blush a little now. I avert my eyes quickly, anywhere really, before sneaking a quick look up at him to smile back.

Ellie had helped Nick in the “For fucksake save Harry’s rug it probably costs more than your car” mission and had stolen the seat beside him after they were done. It slipped my mind until Harry set the new bottle of wine on the table and sunk down into the space beside me, He curls one leg underneath him and slips me one more smile before turning back to the screen just as Donna and Sam start singing SOS.

. . . . .

“Ah shit, I think I left my book!” I curse just as we make it down the road to Julia’s car. Parking was shit so by the time we found a spot we’d ended up a good 15 minutes away from Harry’s house. “You guys go on, I’m only round the corner anyway.”

Theo and Julia were familiar with my stubbornness so let me go, yelling their goodbyes after a few hugs as they drove away, Ellie and Nick do the same as they clamber into a taxi. I turn quickly in the chilly air and make my way back down the street to Harry’s drive, punching in the familiar code at his gate before running up to the door hastily.

It was open - as always, so I let myself in. He was probably still cleaning the lounge up after we all got a little too tipsy.

“Hey it’s me...just left my book sorry!” I call down the hallway. It’s quiet despite the light Paul Simon playing in the distance so I make my way quickly to the sofas I’d spent most of the night on, praying to avoid an awkward run-in with Harry.

Although we’d actually shared some light conversation throughout the night and a handful of smiles, I’m not sure we’re quite at the stage in our friendship that me more or less breaking into his house wouldn’t be awkward to run into.

The lounge is empty when I get there. The side tables are still littered with wine glasses and tacky red rings on coasters but no Harry in sight. Or book for that matter.

I start pulling back the cushions carefully - god knows how much they cost. Despite scouring the one spot I’d pretty much clung to the whole night - incidentally beside Harry - I have no luck. Nick tossed the book back to me at some point in the night after reading it by my recommendation but knowing him it could have ended up anyway. I follow the breadcrumbs of our night down another hallway as I vaguely remember Nick talking about a certain plot twist as we searched Harry’s kitchen cupboards for the wine he’d sent us off to restock.

As I come around the white archway into his kitchen I catch a glimpse of him from around the kitchen island. He has his back turned to me but he’s leant forwards against a counter with ring covered fingers clutching the edge, a glass of amber liquid set slightly away from him.

“Oh, sorry I was just-” He jumps a little at my voice, turning quickly to face me with his now free hands coming up to hold his chest. When his eyes finally meet mine they’re red and it takes a second for him to register the tears still streaming from them before he replies.

“Shit, fu- what are you..are you alright?” His hands bat between tangling into his hair and wiping the tears from his cheeks, anything to avoid actually looking up at me again.

“Yeah, I just..um..left my book,” I mumble, taking a step closer to him when I notice how his hands shake as they move timidly around his face. “Harry, what’s wrong?”

“Uuuh um.” He wanders for a moment before slapping a palm lightly atop the counter and pulling out his infamous grin. “Nothing much, how bout you - find your book?”

“-Harry..” I take another step close, “I know we’re not, ya know..close. But you can talk to me.”

There’s a beat of silence when he keeps up the act, I’d almost believe it if it wasn’t for his bloodshot eyes and anxious fingers drumming against the tile.

“What’s wrong?”

He pauses for a moment, assessing whether or not to tell me whatever’s weighing so heavy on his shoulders. But the dam bursts.

“Fuckin’ everything Love” He laughs, rubbing his palms over his face. I try to focus on the matter at hand: Harry weeping in his kitchen. But that name’s only ever left his mouth directed at me a handful of times and it’s never made my stomach flutter quite as it did just now. “Just..Fuck I’m so lonely Olivia.”

I don’t really know any of the details but between conversation - mostly overheard, and the media frenzy, it was hard not to be aware of Harry’s break up two months ago. I can’t claim we were close enough to discuss it, having hardly ever talked beyond trivial issues, but I knew that despite them only being together two or so months, he’d been incredibly distant for the weeks that followed the break up.

“I hear about you and Aubre..I’m really sorry it didn’t work out for you guys-” Harry laughs almost, a pained sort of chuckle that told me I was way off with this one.

“It’s not..that isn’t why I..” He takes a deep breath before lifting his head up slightly to focus on where his fingers still tapped out a nervous beat on the counter. “I was lonely before her...and with her. I just, I can’t seem to get it right ever...feels like nobody wants to be with me for the right reasons.”

“Hey no..what about tonight? Your house was full of so many people who love you yeah? Maybe your bougie wine collection had something to do with it but still,” He laughs at that, peeking up from behind his fringe for just a moment. “They- we love you ‘k?”

“I know but, ‘clock hits the am and everyone leaves, it just gets...it gets so fucking lonely to see everyone in perfect pairs ya know?”

I don’t really know what I’m doing but I’m doing it - my arms wrap over his shoulders and lock with a hand at the nape of his neck. We’ve never hugged before beyond a general greeting but anyone watching wouldn’t know it, his face burrows quickly into my shoulder and his arms cocoon over my waist, holding me tightly and slipping under the thick layers of my jacket.

“I know exactly what you mean, H.”

The hug lasts longer than I imagined it might. He smells of vanilla and the coffee he brought back in bulk from Jamaica. He lets out a shaky breath and melts further into me, nuzzling my neck softly with the tip of his nose. His curls are soft between my fingers and I find myself shhing him, lulling us both into a tired kind of calm.

Another moment passes in the silence of his kitchen before Harry lets out an awkward cough and straightens up, pulling out of our hold and immediately covering his face with his palms again.

“I..sorry Jules and Theo must be waiting for you..” Harry murmured, wiping the last of his tears away and letting his hands fall and fidget by his sides.

“Oh no don’t worry they..um they already went I was actually just gonna walk.” I tell him, making his head perk up a bit.

“Wha-It’s past twelve Liv it’s not safe, how far do you even live?” He clears his throat and his voice is clearer now, it feels like a whole different world to the one we were in just a minute ago.

“It’s fine honestly, only take like thirty minutes walking - I’ve done it before-” I ramble, eager to put this situation behind me before I embarrass myself anymore.

“No - let me drive you yeah?” Harry shakes his head, adamant.

“Harry..we’ve been drinking all night, I think that’s more dangerous than me jus’ walking.” I laugh, holding his gaze for a second longer than I usually would - fuck, how do we usually act around each other?

Before I come to a conclusion, his eyes rest heavy on mine and I can see the cogs turning in his brain as he tries to work his way out of this one. Ever the people pleaser.

“Then stay.”

“Harry-”

“You said you know how it feels.” He cuts in, unwavering now as he doesn’t let my eyes fall from his. “So stay …’s safer anyway.”

. . . . .

“I can take the sofa, really Harry I don’t mind,” I reassure as he tosses me an old t-shirt and joggers to sleep in. “It’s comfier than my bed anyway.

His guest bedrooms had just been painted and were still pretty fume filled so the sofa or his bed were the only options. For twenty minutes now he’s tried to convince me to take his bed and leave him on the sofa, despite the fact we both know he’s a little too tall to sleep without his feet hanging off the end.

“But you’re my guest!” He protests again, coming up from his wardrobe to stand in front of me, hand on hips and an expression of concern on his face.

“And you’re almost six foot!”

“Hey, I am six foot.” He takes a deep breathe, exhaling through his nose in defeat before speaking again. “Okay, you can sleep on the sofa but if anyone asks I was the perfect host and you bullied me into this.”

I laugh softly, this whole new side of Harry had never been directed solely at me before and it was honestly refreshing. Usually Nick or another friend was the target of his jokes and playful demeanor and I only noticed it from afar but now he was right in front of me, hauling pillows off his bed and sticking his tongue out when he caught me staring.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” He asks for the third time since I agreed to stay the night. We’ve just finished setting up the sofa to sleep on and despite the duvet and many quilts far more lush than my own actual bed, he seemed unconvinced it was enough.

“I’m sure” I sit back into the pile of blankets and pillows, tucking my feet underneath me and looking back up at Harry. “If you’re really not, just come watch a film with me and see how cozy it is.”

The quick change in dynamic was a lot smoother than I’d imagined. Within an hour of being alone together we’d already talked more than in all our past interactions, not to mention how close we’ve gotten. He only nods his head quickly and he’s settling under a quilt beside me, rummaging around for a controller to pull up netflix again.

“Mamma Mia two?” He asks.

I chuckle a bit and nod. At the beginning of the evening I hadn’t quite seen it ending in a Mamma Mia marathon with just me and Harry.

He presses play and as the opening display begins we both lean back into the sofa and pull the blankets up over us. It’s only in the quiet of the first few scenes that I notice we’re matching. We’re both dressed fully in his clothes, grey joggers and t-shirt - his rolling stones, mine fleetwood mac. And it all smells of him. I pull the blanket a little higher over my chest and the faint, but now familiar, scent of vanilla and coffee fills my lungs and for a second all I can focus on is how desperately I want to be in his arms again.

. . . . .

“-ow” A groggy voice mumbles from above me and I feel myself being pulled forwards slightly against something hard - and warm.

I’m a few seconds from falling straight back asleep before I feel the painful ache in the side of my neck. I reach a hand up to gauge my current situation and feel my fingers plunging into soft hair - soft hair that ends too soon to be mine.

“Hi..” I recoil my hand quickly back to my side and push myself up so I’m sitting slightly. I look down and see Harry, half asleep still and hand still resting on my side.

“Oh-hey sorry,” What do you say when you wake up beside the guy you barely knew but simultaneously had been incredibly vulnerable with just the night before?

Harry seems to be waking up now and certainly more aware of our predicament as he pulls his hand away from where it was holding firmly onto the material of my - his - t-shirt and pushes himself up to sit against the arm of the sofa.

“We must have fallen asleep..sorry I didn’t mean too, ya know…” His eyes flutter between where I sit opposite him and the “Are you still watching?” Netflix screen.

“It’s fine, accidents happen an’ everything.” I smile, slipping out from the warm cocoon of blankets to stand. “I’m just gonna wash up quickly and I’ll be out of you hair.”

Before I can rush off to tame my hair and hopefully find some toothpaste to rid me of my morning breath, Harry clasps his hand gently around my wrist and tugs slightly to get my attention.

“Not in a rush Love, I’ll make us some breakfast.” He says it effortlessly, like it was a regular occurrence for us to fall asleep cuddling on his sofa. He stands, groaning as his knees pop appreciatively and lets my hand go before he’s disappearing into the kitchen.

“Okay…” I murmur to myself. “....okay.”

. . . . .

Alice is back at my table with my second refill before 11am. I thank her and take a gulp of the fiery ginger tea before reading over the last three paragraphs I just wrote. The spice licks my tongue as I tip the cup up for a second sip; it’s autumn after all.

In the last two weeks September had slipped into October and all the trees in London had received the memo. I’d been busy, hoaled up in the quietest corner of Blondies the whole time with coffee filling all my senses. I haven’t seen everyone together since that night at Harry’s. I grabbed lunch with Eleanor the Monday afterwards and told her nothing, preferring to avoid the texts my phone amassed over the fortnight. I've turned down all proposed group activities and focused on work instead. To be fair, I do have a lot to get done. There were always seasonal pieces in my to do list and with the weather getting colder it was time I got to them before it was Christmas already.

I haven’t talked to Harry either. He made us pancakes with blueberries and maple syrup in the morning and we haven’t even texted since; I’m not sure that we even have a private text between us. Eleanor and Julia have told me how much fun they’ve all had the times I’ve politely but persistently declined, I can only assume Harry’s in the mix with them all. He’s in town for awhile if I’m remembering our breakfast chatter correctly, it makes sense that they’re all hanging out together really when they don’t often get time together. Ellie’s phone calls keep me from sliding into thoughts of how easily I could fall right out of the group and not be missed, at least. I was just taking space for work. The fact that most of my afternoons at the cafe disappeared into me analysing anything I might ever have felt or said to Harry means nothing at all.

Neither does the heightened pace of my heartbeat when he walks through the stiff wooden doors of Blondies.

He orders what I assume is his regular black coffee, scans the room for a second and lands directly on me. He hesitates a little to hold my gaze, turning his head to look outside before looking back at me and smiling. He thanks the server and takes a few quick steps towards me, weaving in between the packed tables to my little spot hidden away in the corner.

“Hi,” He smiles again, although his toneos overshadowed by a slight anxious hilt. “Can I sit?”

Nodding, I close my laptop and pull my tea closer to me to make a space for him.

“Hi.” He repeats, smiling a little sheepishly.

“Hi,” I wait a second, nervous to start when I’m so unsure of how this conversation has already gone in his head. But he doesn’t say anything so I push through and bite the bullet against my better judgement. “Look, about that Friday I-”

“Can I just-” He cuts me off, leaning forwards and opening his hands out as he mulls over his next few words. “I’m sorry if it was awkward at all, I didn’t mean for anything to happen and I thought we were fine an’ everything but then I haven’t seen you in two weeks and Ellie keeps saying you’re not comin’ out. Did I do something wrong?”

“Oh god no,” I hurry, “You didn’t do anything it was just - I didn’t expect to wake up..like that...and it was just a really quick change because we’ve never really been close and suddenly it was just, us, like that.”

He nods, pushing a loose curl back a second later that broke free in the motion. He seems understanding as he looks down before leaning his elbows against the table so only the two of us can hear what he’s about to say.

“I know, I didn’t expect it either but, can I just tell you I’m glad that it happened?” He leaves a three second pause for me to flounder in confusion before continuing. “What I told you, ‘bout feeling lonely, it messes with my sleep all the time. I just get stuck in my own thoughts but the night you stayed over I slept fine - perfect even.”

Not sure what else to do with this new information, I nod for him to continue.

“I know we’ve never been close, but hanging out with you just really calmed me down.” He smiles, gaining confidence now in his vulnerability tucked away in our little hiding place. “Thank you for staying.”

“I get what you mean.” I mumble, slightly anxious any of the busy customers with prying eyes could overhear my confession. “I never really know when to stop working and I think I got the best night sleep on your sofa I’ve had in awhile, which really speaks volumes about how crappy my mattress is.”

He chuckles. Relief seems to settle in as he lets his shoulders relax and face soften.

“I was thinking - especially now that I know it was good for you as well, maybe it could become more of a regular thing?” He asks, his forefinger and thumb pinch together and twist one of his rings a little - a nervous habit, I’m sure.

“How do you mean?”

“Like..when we all go out, maybe we go home together, you know - so we can sleep better.” He moves down to focus on the metal rose he’s still fumbling at. “If..if you don’t want to or you think it’d be weird it’s fi-”

“I’d like that.” I reach forwards to comfort him, absentmindedly cupping my fingers around his. “I think it’d be nice, to get a good night's sleep I mean.”

“I’m glad.” He beams.

“..That and you make a mean blueberry pancake.” I tease, earning a light chuckle from Harry.

Just like our last cafe encounter, the ping of a his phone beats me to my new few words. He checks it quickly, shaking his head and glancing down the large room to the shop front where, once again, Jeff waits. He seems a little more agitated this time, waving vigorously whilst trying not to attract the attention of passersby, all rather unsuccessfully.

“Bollocks okay - I’ve gotta go,” Harry swears, collecting his coffee from the table and pushing his chair back quickly. “I’ll just - we can text before we go out next yeah?”

“Cool, yeah - wait a sec, let me just give you my number.” I reach up for him to hand me his phone but he doesn’t make any effort to move, instead he blushes slightly and stares at the floor. “..What?”

“I um, I already have it.” He fiddles with the hair at the nape of his neck before talking again. It’s hard not to remember how it felt when it was my fingers carding through his brown curls. “I got it from Theo awhile back when we were going to this thing, felt weird not having it. I hope that..okay and everythin’”

I nod, smiling up at him. The idea of him having a part of me for this past year without me even knowing is oddly precious. The fact that he felt odd about not having my number and going to the effort of getting it from Theo was unbelievably endearing.

“That’s fine, helpful actually.” I smile still, “Text me before we meet everyone and we’ll make a plan or somethin’”

“Okay,” He smirks, his slight cocky nature reemerging. “Will do, Liv. See you soon?”

“See you soon.”

Jeff flies a hand up to his hair like before but this time is met with a grinning Harry who doesn’t seem to mind so much.

. . . . .

Unknown Number

‘Hey! Is tonight good? We can slip off after drinks at the gallery. H x’

I look down at my phone. Caught off guard by the sudden text, I’d almost forgotten out arrangement. Julia invited us all to a gallery opening of one of her friend's new exhibits. Even as I flicked through my wardrobe for the right jacket, I hadn’t put two and two together and realised I’d be seeing Harry again for the first time since our chat at Blondies four days ago.

I save his number and I think quickly, not wanting to leave him on read when he knew I’d be leaving to see them all any second and most likely spend the whole tube journey on my phone.

‘Hi :) That’d work for me yh, just let me know when you want to leave and I’ll make an excuse. Liv x’

With another thought rushing through my head, I send a quick follow up.

‘Can we keep this between us right now? Might be a bit tricky to explain to the others.”

Harry

‘Read my mind love.’

‘See you in a bit :)’

I’m still not the hugest fan of the airy feeling that rushed through my stomach as I read over the pet name. He was just from Manchester, it was normal up there to call everything by casually affectionate little names. It didn’t mean anything at all.

. . . . .

“Livia!” Nick calls out when he sees me scanning over the faces at the entrance to the gallery. I smile instantly and make my way over, quickly falling into his arms as he rocks us for a second. “Haven’t seen you in an age!”

“‘Ve been working, we can’t all piss about Monday to Friday.” I giggle, smiling wide as he murmurs something under his breath and plants a big kiss on my cheek. “Is everyone here?”

I try not to look suspicious when I peak over around us, trying to pick a certain brunette from the crowd.

“Yeah, they’re just over there with Julia’s friend.” Nick points and I see him immediately. He’s dressed just as I expected - half gucci half grandpa sweaters. “I’m gonna get us drinks, meet you there?”

“Mhmmm” I hum, breaking out of his hold and slipping through the crowds to our small group of friends.

“Hi!” Julia smiles brightly. She hugs me quickly before stepping aside to give Eleanor and Theo their turns. They all whisper quiet ‘Missed yous’ in my ear as if I’ve been gone for years.

“Hey,” Harry appears by my side as everyone else turns their attention to the front of the crowd where it looks like the artist is setting up to introduce the night. “How’ve you been?”

“In the last four days?” I chuckle, “Good. Not been sleeping great, but I’ve got a lot of work done so that’s been great.”

He nods approvingly. A smile tugs at his lips at the mention of sleep, almost like some secret inside joke we’ve managed to form between just the two of us.

“Me neither. Jeff’s been buggin’ me what feels like every hour with deadlines.” I find myself squeezing his hand a little under his long coat sleeves so nobody can see. “Looking forward to just collapsing tonight, if I’m honest.”

“Me too.” I smile tiredly, tonight had been a big ask come to think of it. I've had work piled up twice my height all week and even having worked day in and day out I’ve still only made a crack in the mountain of final edits and emails to respond to.

Harry squeezes my fingers back and our hands linger in each other's hold until Nick emerges beside us and the artist begins her speech.

. . . . .

The comfortable chatter surrounding the booth we’d taken up a few hours ago died down as the clock ticked later and later. We’d left the gallery a while ago now in favour of the after party at a pub down the road but by now the heavy scent of beers and various gin based concoctions were giving us all headaches.

“I think I’m gonna call it a night guys,” Harry announces, a slew of groans following from the group. “Sorry, sorry! It’s been great but it’s getting late.”

Julia and Theo move out the way to let him out the booth. He slides across the red cushion to stand, pulling his coat over himself as he sneaks a quick look at me.

“I think I’m gonna head off too,” I smile, waiting for Eleanour to stand and let me out as another wave of complaints flooded me. “Sorry! I’ve got work and the tube’ll be hell any later.”

“Well if Harry’s going too couldn’t he take you home?” Julia suggests, looking between the two of us as we now stand slightly away from each other. “You drove right?”

“Yeah, I did.” Harry turns to smile at me, amused clearly by how our plan was being unknowingly encouraged by our friends. “C’mon, I’ll drive yeh.”

I nod, biting back a smirk. We say our goodbyes and wave as we slip out the heavy pub doors out onto the road outside. It’s started to drizzle slightly and I resent choosing the jacket without a hood.

“I’m just over here,” Harry points a little ways off. “Hurry, think it’s about to pour.”

We walk quickly down the street and through a metal gate into a car park when there’s a loud rumble of thunder and immediately the rain thickens.

“Fuck!” Harry laughs as he scrambles for his keys, we match each other's paces until we’re practically sprinting to his car in the far corner of the lot. The click of the locks sounds out and his lights flash red a second before we’re both pulling the doors open and throwing ourselves inside onto warm seats.

We catch our breath, chests rising and falling with uneven pants before our laughter settles and Harry slots the keys into the ignition.

. . . . .

“Do you want anything to eat?” Harry asks as he closes his front door behind us and we kick out shoes off in his hall. “I think I have some takeout menus somewhere..”

“I’m not really hungry, thanks though,” I cut off his search as he walks through to his kitchen and starts opening draws. “Kinda just wanna go to bed now.”

He nods and rubs a hand under his eye in silent agreement of my exhaustion.

“I’ll make us a tea, meet you up there yeah?” He calls over his shoulder, having turned quickly to retrieve various packets from his cupboards. “Chamomile okay?”

“Yeah chamomiles good,” I hover for a second in the archway leading into the kitchen, suddenly awkward to be alone in his house again. “Where um..where is it?”

He looks over his shoulder at me, slightly confused. His eye brows unfurrow when I motion behind me.

“Oh- just up the stairs and third room down the hall..on the left.” He smiles, turning back to the cupboard to look through his extensive mug collection.

I nod to myself, spinning on my heel and making my way up his stairs. I’ve never gone beyond the downstairs of his house before and even then I stuck to the kitchen, dining room and lounge. It felt odd to suddenly have access to something as intimate as his bedroom, I try not to overthink things as I push open the third door I see.

The first thing I see is his large bed, there’s probably enough room for three people on it and there’s definitely enough pillows to go around. The room as a whole is tidy, whether it’s always like that or only organised so precisely for my visit, I don’t know, but the thought makes my stomach flutter.

I walk up to the side of the bed with no charger on it’s table and set my bag down. We hadn’t talked about the logistics of our...arrangement, but I’d brought the basics to last me through the night. I plug my charger into the wall and take out my wash bag and a set of clothes to sleep in before sliding my bag under the table. I look around for a second. Somehow I hadn’t really thought through the fact that by the end of the night, I’d be in Harry’s bed. With Harry. In a completely platonic way with the only function to soothe our mutually crappy sleeping habits.

I hear Harry walking up the stairs just as I slip into the un suit to wash up and get changed. He’s humming a song under his breath. The clink of mugs being set down is followed by wardrobe doors opening and closing and a light thud of clothes being thrown on the bed.

I wait a few minutes to make sure I don’t walk in on him changing. Opening the door tentatively, I step out into the room in a large sweater and pajama shorts. Harry turns to look at me, he’s in the same t-shirt he wore last time and a pair of boxer shorts and the whole situation suddenly seems so amusing. After just one night of falling asleep on the sofa together, not having ever talked before, here we are standing at our most vulnerable about to cuddle in his bed together.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” He nods, looking down at himself. “Hope this is okay...I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or-”

“It’s fine,” I reassure him, “I didn’t really know what to wear either.”

His eyes flicker down my body and he smiles back up at me. He motions to the bed and we both nod a little awkwardly before making our way over to our sides. I climb in and instantly let a small groan out as my body sinks into the mattress, the pillows and duvet feel almost like a cloud as I burrow under and pull my tea up to my lips.

Harry chuckles from beside me, I peak over the mug to seem him grinning down from where he sits slightly taller in the bed.

“Sorry, you look comfy.” He laughs a little,

“I am, your bed’s insane.” I set my mug down and turn to him, bouncing slightly to emphasise the quality of his mattress that probably cost more than a year of my rent. “I really should start earning millions, feel like it’d suit me.”

He returns his tea to the bedside table and copies me, turning to face me with his legs crossed.

“It definitely would.” He smiles, bouncing a little before I let out a yawn. “Tired?”

“Exhausted.” I mumble, hand still covering half my face. Harry reaches behind him to turn to switch the lights above his headboard off before pulling the duvet back for us to slip under.

“C’mere,” Without hesitating, I shuffle back slightly until I can feel his chest behind me and an arm come up to rest around my hip. “‘This okay?”

“Mhmmm,” I hum, “What about our teeth?”

“We’ll brush ‘em in the morning,” I nod, groaning again as all the aches in my body subside as I sink into his arms and the foam mattress. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I mumble, embarrassed to have let myself go so easily around him. “Your mattress is just unbelievable. Might have to make this a regular thing.”

I speak before I think, mind clouded with sleep and my eyes already fighting to stay open.

“That’s the plan, love.”

. . . . .

When I wake up, Harry’s arms are tight around my middle and his body’s like a furnace behind me. I vaguely recall pulling my sweater off in the night to cool down as I lay now only in a vest and shorts. I slept better than I have in months though, despite the warm breaths on my neck turning my cheeks flushed.

The mix of Harry’s company and his safe haven of a mattress made for the perfect night sleep. I push back slightly into his chest and feel his arms tighten around me and a low murmur of his voice in my ear. The clock on my bedside table reads 6:30. It’s a Saturday and I can quite easily imagine spending the rest of my day - weekend even, exactly like this.

I slip back to sleep for a little awhile before I’m woken up to a low groan behind me. Harry shifts slightly, burying his face in the base of my neck and squeezing around my waist again. He must still be half asleep to be this comfortable with me.

I’m proven right when it takes another fifteen minutes for him to poke his head up over my shoulder and mumble:

“Breakfast?”

. . . . .

Our routine works smoothly for weeks. After sleeping so well the first few times, it became a given that we’d pile into Harry’s car after every night out with our friends and go back to his. Sometimes we’d get takeout or watch a film, but it wasn’t so rare that we’d just stumble out of his car, or a taxi - depending what the night had entailed, and walk with eyes almost closed straight to bed.

I stopped bringing things every night about two weeks in when a new toothbrush appeared next to Harrys and an oversized t-shirt of Harrys found its way onto my side of the bed. We also ditched the awkward pleasantries. Spending two or three nights a week in his house, I’d become pretty familiar with it all. I sometimes brought us breakfast if it was a weekend, or left a coffee beside the bed for him if I left for work first, We had very easily slipped into an oddly familiar sense of domesticity. It was strange to never mention any of it to our friends, it made it special though. We helped each other, and it was all just between the two of us. Nobody else knew Harry taught me how to make coffee just the way he likes it, or that we share his lavender shampoo sometimes.

“Ols?” Harry calls up the stairs to me. We’re running late to Julia and Theos anniversary dinner.

“Coming!” I yell back, reaching into his wardrobe to snatch a jacket before running down the stares.

“Oi! Slow down love, you’re gonna fall,” He complains, holding his hands out at the bottom of the stairs to catch me as I skid a little on the wooden floors of his hallway. “Hey! This’s mine!”

He tugs playfully on the opening of his jacket. I pull the fabric from his grasp and smile up at him.

“Not anymore…” He scrunches his nose up and pulls me towards him. The sudden movement pushed the air from my lungs suddenly. “-Fine! Just for tonight...nobody’ll notice anyway, you only just got his one.”

He shakes his head, bringing his fingers up to tickles across my stomach quickly before letting me go and clapping his hands.

“Shoes now!” He points down at my sock clad feet, “Come on we’re late already.”

I sling my bag over my shoulder and slip my boots on before trailing after him to the front door. He’s pulled his large green coat off the hangar before he’s looking back down at me, brows pulled together in confusion.

“What’ve got yeh bag for?”

“Ah see Harry, I tend not to leave my stuff places I don’t actually live.” I laugh.

“You’re not coming back tonight?” The confusion’s not joined by a hint of sadness as his hands fall from the door knob and he turns to face front on.

“Oh I..hadn’t thought ‘bout that. I’ve gotta water my plants.” I haven't been home in two days, I spent the whole day at Blondies yesterday then headed to Harry's after a few drinks with him and Nick. We’ve hung out around his house all day, sleeping in and finishing our last few bits of work for the week. “I can let them go a little dry I guess-”

“Can I come to yours?” Harry cuts me off to ask. “It’s just, I haven’t ever seen it..and that way your plant’ll be fine.”

I stay quiet for a second. Our world of sleepovers and movie marathons and home made curries for dinner existed within his house. My flat was small in comparisons to the homes of our friends, who were all, delicately put, pretty well off. Not that I wasn’t, I’d just gone into a lower paying area of my industry. I lived alone anyway so there wasn’t much point paying thousands in rent when I didn’t need much space.

“It’s fine it you want a night to yourself I can just-”

“It’s not that, H, I just didn't really think about how we only ever come here.” I mumble the last part, “Come back to mine, I don’t feel like going back on my own anyways.”

I smile a little, unsure of where we stand on the whole admitting we’d grown pretty dependent on each other’s presence, front. He smiles back, twisting the door open and holding it for me as I slip under his arm.

The car clicks unlocked and I settle into my seat. I reach over to push my seat belt in as Harry pulls his door shut and the car rumbles to a start.

“Can’t believe Jules and T have been together so long.” He sighs as we pull out onto the main road.

“Tell me about it,” I gaze out the window as rain dribbles lightly. “Feels like the year just went straight by.”

“They seem so happy still, like they’re still honeymooning,” Harry hums.

“I remember when they just started going out in Uni, even then it was obvious they’d end up together.”

“I like those kinds of people. The ones who make each other just completely themselves, ya know?” He glances over at me before turning back to the road.

“Yeah...they’re proper soulmates aren’t they.”

. . . . .

“Okay but seriously, what the fuck is up with you and Harry?” Eleanor bursts out as soon as we reach the bar. We’ve been sent off to get the third round whilst the others stayed at our favourite booth of the pub we frequented.

“Wait what?” I yell over the loud chatter of the pub, “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean!” She’s still waving her hand out for the bartender when she glances down at me again. “You’re tryna say you’re suddenly so close and nothing’s happened between you?”

“We’re not that close.” I quip, “We’ve just talked a bit more lately, I guess.”

“And nothing’s happened?” She raised a brow at me suspiciously. “You guys have left together every night for the past few weeks, just admit you have feelings for each other.”

“No, nothing’s happened.” I sigh, unsure if I sound convincing or not. “We just live close and it’s too cold now to get the tube back so late, he’s just being nice. You know Harry...he’s like that with everyone.”

Eleanor laughs a little, shaking her head. She places our order with the bartender when he makes his way to our side of the bar before turning back to me with her arms crossed.

“He’s nice to everyone, but he’s not just being nice to you.” She smirks, “And he usually doesn't give just anybody his clothes.”

She reaches out and rubs the fabric of my - Harrys - jacket between her thumb and forefinger. She looks up and quirks her brows up a little again. Before I can splutter out an explanation our drinks are being laid out on the counter beside us and Eleanor is pointing to the ones for me to carry and turning back to our booth.

A surge of anxiety washes over me as I follow Eleanor back to the group. My breaths feel unsteady and I can’t help but dart my eyes to get a quick glance at Harry to see if he’s experiencing the same kind of interrogation. He seems fine though, laughing at something Nicks said.

Soon we’re at the booth, slipping back into our seats and setting the drinks out in front of everyone. Harry’s eyes hover on me for a few seconds, brows raised a little in question. I smile and shake my head - everything’s fine.

I don’t miss how Eleanor glances between us throughout the whole night. Especially not when a different two get up for the next round and Harry and I are pushed next to each other when they climb back into the available seats. Harry seems a little suspicious too. He clearly hasn’t noticed Eleanor’s strange behaviour - or doesn’t care - because he’s kept gazing down at me every now and then since we came back with drinks hours ago. When I stop looking up at him, nervous Eleanor might question me about his constant and slightly nervous glances when we’re alone, he reaches his hand under the tables and pulls mine into his lap. He squeezes our hands every now and then. He’s always a touchy, cuddly drunk. Normally it’s a bit more obvious; he’ll wrap his arms around one of us on the dance floor or lap his head on a shoulder, nothing too intimate. Just friendly. But now he’s stroking his thumb over my knuckles and tapping out the beat of the current song playing with his foot, his knee bumping mine.

Julia and Theo are the first to go. Relief settles in me at the idea of not being the first two to leave for once. There’s no way Eleanor wouldn't’ve have noticed me and Harry sneaking the other a glance like we usually do to signal we’re ready to go, without some kind of distraction.

“It was so lovely guys, feels like we haven’t just sat down and talked in so long!” Julia smiles, leaning into Theos side tiredly as they say their goodbyes.

“I think I’m gonna head off too, it’s getting pretty late,” I smile, waiting for Harry to speak when Theo pipes up before him.

“Livs, you want a lift?” Theo looks down at me.

“Oh Olivia, that’s a good idea, you were just saying how it’s too cold for the tube.” Eleanor beams, smiling cheekily as she knows I’m the only one who’ll understand her subtle teasing.

“Oh I-” I stutter before Harry’s squeezing my hand again and looks up at Theo.

“I was actually gonna take her home, we’re only 10 minutes apart so it’s just easier.” He smiles politely, if I couldn’t feel his foot hooking over mine I’d believe he was just being nice and helping out a friend.

“Yeah but you’re gonna stay a little while aren’t you?” Julia countered, “We’re pretty close, it’s fine really.”

I nod, motioning to slide out of the booth. Harry lets me by, dropping my hand before anyone else could see. Julia, Theo and I say goodbye quickly and head out to the car park. As soon as we’re all strapped into their car, I pull out my phone and click Harry’s contact.

Meet me at mine x

Harry

Okay - what was that about?

I’ll explain when u get here, just something w Eleanor

U might have been right about the jacket :/

Theo pulls up outside my flat and I jump out the car, thanking them quickly and waving them off. I climb the stairs of my building and click the keys in my door, pushing it open and kicking my shoes off the second I get in. After a fifteen minute frantic clean, the place is looking slightly better. There’s no time to perfect it as I hear my phone buzzing on the counter, a dorky photo of Harry in one of his infamous sweaters all sprawled out on the sofa and sticking his tongue out at me flashes the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hey, I’m just outside,” He talks softly, “What number are you?”

“24, wait a sec and I’ll buzz you up.”

I tread quickly to the button by my front door and let him up, hearing a quiet thanks over the phone and a “See you in a sec” before the line goes dead.

A minute later there’s a quiet knock at my door. I open it and see Harry, he looks a little more tired than when I left him forty minutes ago, he rubs his knuckles under his eyes and sighs softly.

“Hey, come in.” I pull the door a little wider, stepping aside to let him inside. He walks past me, eyes watching the floor whilst I lock the up behind us and turn to face him. There's an awkward tension in the air that I haven’t experienced with Harry before, maybe a little that first night when I walked in on him in his kitchen, but nothing like this since we’ve gotten closer.

“What happened?” He asks quietly, lifting his head with an uncertain look on his face.”You barely even looked at me.

“I..” I stumble over what to say, I’ve been thinking I could just explain what Eleanor had said and have it done with but now I know we’re not going to be able to just leave this. If somebody’s going to find out about our arrangement then something would have to change. “Ellie thinks there’s something going on with us and she kept staring all night. I just, I couldn’t give her anything to be suspicious about.”

“S’that what you mean about the jacket?” I nod, “What did she say?”

“Just that we seemed closer, talk more I guess.” I sigh, “She didn’t believe anything I said.”

“What did you say?” He presses. His tone is unclear, he seems less hurt now and more focussed on getting answers from me.

“I just, I told her nothing’s happened.” I mumble, “She asked about us leaving together and I told her it was just because we lived close and it’s easier than the tube.”

Harry bobs his head a little, taking in what I’ve just told him before laughing a little. He shakes his head and brings his palms up to his face, cursing under his breath. We stand in the quiet of my hallway before he speaks up again.

“Can we still do this?” That catches me off guard. Of course I knew we’d have to stop sometime when one of us started dating or a friend found out, I just hadn’t thought seriously about it happening anytime soon. “If she does find out, would that be the worst thing in the world?”

I shake my head, taking a step towards him to close the gap between us that’d been building my nerves throughout this whole exchange.

“I don’t wanna stop hanging out.” I confess. Harry quirks his lips up a little, obviously relieved as he pulls me to his chest. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and rests his chin on my head as we breathe together for a moment. All the while we’ve been spending nights at his, there’s been no serious moments like this. We’ve opened up about vulnerable subjects and confessed more than we probably should have to each other, but never anything like this. There’d never been a time I thought I could lose him.

“What if something did happen.” He whispers into my hair.

“Like what?” I murmur, voice a little muffled by his jacket.

“Like..” He trails off a little and I’m pretty sure I hear him inhale a little and smell my hair. “Like what if I kissed you..or something.”

“Or something?” My chest tightens, stomach fluttering suddenly.

“Mmhhhmm,” He hums, “What would happen then?”

“Eleanor would have a field day.”

Harry laughs, shoulders shaking a little as he giggles above me. He loosens his grip on my and pushes away to create a little space to see me again.

“Oh yeah?” He teases.

“Uh huh,” I smile, “She’d never let us forget it if she knew she was right.”

“And what would she be right about?” Harry lifts his hand to cup my face, tilting it slightly to make sure I’m staring right up at him.

“..Something..happening.” I whisper, “Having feelings for eachother.”

Harry grins, cheeks a soft rosy between the outside cold and the new blush. He strokes the pad of his thumb against my cheek and beams down at me.

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh huh…”

“Really..she’d be right about that?”

“I’m pretty sure-”

Before I can tease anymore, Harry’s leaning down to press his lips against mine. I inhale sharply, closing my eyes and looping my arms around the back of his neck to hold us in place. His hand still holds my face firmly, thumb fluttering over my cheek a couple times before he pulls away and we both breathe in deep.

“She’s definitely right.” He smiles, tone turning serious for a moment. “I really like you Olivia.”

Butterflies surge through my stomach for the millionth time since he walked through my door. Blushing and happy, I tighten my arms and push my face back into his shoulder.

“I like you too H….just a little bit.”

“We don’t have to tell anyone, just want this to be ours for a little while.” I can hear the smile in his voice as he leans back down to whisper into my ear.

“I want this to be ours forever.” I hum, words quiet and part of me hoping he doesn't hear my honest confession.

A comforting quiet settles over us. I remember how tired I really am as I melt further into Harry’s body, breathing in the sweet cinnamon and vanilla scent. His breathing lulls me half to sleep as I let my eyes flutter shut and bury my head further into his neck. I feel him lifting me up as my body relaxes against his and I catch his last few words before I he’s shifting me into his arms and walking us up the stairs.

“I could hold you ‘n listen to your voice all night long, love.”

. . . . .

“Oh my god!” Julia yells out, unravelling a long shawl from pristine white tissue paper. “Okay whoever got me, thank you so much!”

She continues to squeal a little as he wraps it over her shoulders and presses the end to her nose, inhaling the lavender scent of her favourite designer brand.

I’d only spent one Christmas with the whole group before but it was clear secret Santa was a bit of a tradition. Between the six of us we all had other friends, family and mostly, relationships. Organising a secret santa within our group just relieved some of the stress of present buying - and it was fun.

We’re all sitting around Harry’s living room, it felt the homiest to us after all. The kiddy advent calendar I bought for him hung by the fireplace reading December 21st. We’ve all finished our egg nogs, meaning it was officially present time. Over the next few days we’ll all be driving up and down the country to visit family, meaning today’s the last day most of us will be seeing each other. Harry had whined about me leaving, begging me to stay another day with him or better yet - spend christmas with his family up north.

It was when I told him my own parents were spending the holidays visiting my sister and her kids in New York that his campaign started. We kissed almost three months ago now and have been on a slew of dates since. Between all the secret dinners out, brunches and farmers market trips, we haven’t found time for the talk. We had no official title. I’ve heard Harry refer to me as “m’girl” a couple times when I’ve wandered into the kitchen and overheard him on the phone to mitch, but nothing he’s told me himself. Despite this, he still insists I have to come and spend christmas with him and his close family. The idea of me hanging out with my young cousins and distant relatives apparently doesn’t satisfy him.

“Are you serious!” Eleanor gasps as she unwraps her own present. Everyone had picked the perfect gifts for each other this year. In a pure coincidence, I ended up with Harry’s name after Nick made me trade because he’d already bought Julia’s present for her. I’ve been nervous about it all evening, I was sure he’d like it, a little too sure. That was the problem. One night, wrapped up in Harry’s bed, he’d recalled his latest tragedy to me: He’d taken shroom with Mitch on his last trip to LA and subsequently decided to skinny dip in the sea, losing his favourite mustard cords in the process. The only times we’ve seen everyone else has been with the both of us present and , to my knowledge, he hasn’t mentioned this to anyone else. The brown paper package that sat on the coffee table could invite a few more questions that I was prepared to answer.

“Harry, you’re next!” Ellie grinned, hugging her present to her chest.

Thanks to our early secrecy, there’s been no opportunity to tell our friends we were dating. Eleanor hasn’t stopped her constant questioning but we’ve kept up a pretty good front of excuses. It was still freezing out so it made sense for us both to climb into his car together at the end of the night. Nobody had to know we would be going home to the same house where we’d climb into the same heavenly bed and scramble eggs together in the morning.

“I’m going, I’m going!” Harry laughs as Ellie tries to hurry him up, playing perfectly into her role as the youngest in our group.

He pulls the first fold of paper back with his ringed fingers and immediately looks up at me as the mustard fabric shines up at him. He grins wide, beaming back at me before pulling the rest of the paper back and laying the trousers out in front of him.

“No babe...where did you find them?” He’s running his fingers down the cord, in awe to have his favorite trousers back - or at least a copy.

I don’t miss how Eleanor and Nick’s heads turn to share a look of shock as the pet name tumbles out. Before I can put anything together, Harry’s standing and leaning over the coffee table. He wraps his arms around my shoulders, pulling me into a hug and whispering his thanks in my ear.

“Wait I dont - how did you know it was h-” Julia pipes up, before she can finish she’s cut off by the joint gasps of Nick and Ellie as Harry plants a wet kiss to my cheek - then my lips, and laughs at our friends reaction.

“I knew it!” Ellie yells, pointing frantically between the two of us, Harry now having stepped over the table and come to sit next to me, pulling me into his side.

“What was-” Julia stammers, “Since when!”

Harry’s eyes flutter down to my face. He giggles quietly when he catches on to my glare. This wasn’t exactly how I’d imagined the evening going.

“Have you just been lying to my face for the past three months?” Ellie asks, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting her lips.

“Five,” Harry mumbles, almost just as an inside joke for the both of us to enjoy. I slap my hand against his shoulder to shut him up but the damage is already done.

“Five months!” Even Theo’s joining in now. “How didn’t we know?”

“It didn’t start out like this honestly, we would’ve told you.” I try and explain, eager for this to quiet down so we could get to the roast dinner waiting for us in the oven.

“How did it start?” Nick pokes, drawing Julia and Ellie’s attention as the same puzzled expressions adorn their faces.

“Unimportant,” Harry brushes off, standing up to tower over us all and reaching a hand back for my own. “We better get dinner, we wouldn't want burnt potatoes.”

Harry pulls on my arm gently, leading me out the room before anyone can object.

In the kitchen, he picks up a tea towel and starts to check on the food, prodding at the parsnips. I roll my eyes as he ties his lavender apron around his waist and tentatively pulls the potato tray from the oven.

“Harry..” I sigh, trying not to laugh as he turn to face me, spatula in hand.

“Yes dear?”

“What was that?”

“Oh - You’ve gotta shimmy a little spatula under the potatoes or they’ll break apart-”

“No, obviously not that,” He makes it so hard so stay stern, a giggle leaks out as he lifts a hand to rest on his hip. “Why did you do that?”

“I want them to know.” drops his utensils, tone sincere as he takes another step towards me. “I want our friends to know how much I love you already, and you remember about my mustard cords so..it felt like the perfect time.”

“What?” I stutter, looking up at him from where he’s pulled me into his chest. His hands rest on my waist, rings a little hold against my exposed skin.

“You remembered the trousers I lost last month in LA -”

“You love me?”

His eyes go a little wide, a smile peaking through as the sides of his mouth quirk upwards. Realising what he just said, he lifts a hand from my waist to rest it against my face and lean down a little.

“Of course I love you.” He whispers, his voice a little croaky and I can see tiny droplets gathering in his eyes that make my heart flutter.

“Love you too..” I mumble. I wipe a thumb over his cheek before pulling him down into a kiss. I feel his smile against my own, and everything’s perfect for just a second.

“So you’ll come to Christmas with me?”

. . . . .

Hiii I hate the ending :)

Tysm for reading !! pls leave a like or reblog (it rlly helps <3) if you enjoyed it x

#Harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #stellarboystyles3years #“I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”#dani's masterlist #dani's writing #fan fic #harry styles #nick grimshaw #reader #idk #what do u even put in tags #christmas vibes?#friends to lovers

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shuahoonie · 4 years

Text

you [tom holland] - eight.

PAIRING: tom holland x female!celebrity!reader

SUMMARY: ah, to be young and in love. it sounds great if only you and tom were actually dating out of pure love and not for the sheer reputation of your careers. it also should be great if you two actually got along, but life isn’t that easy.

WARNINGS: mostly swearing! some fluff here, some angst there. it’s haters to lovers / fake dating au so take that information as you wish! also, their relationship is improving yall 🤧

WORD COUNT: 5.6k

SONG INSPO: mxmtoon - used to you

A/N: surprise! I actually updated after five/six months??? a lot of things have happened during the time that I was gone. most of it revolved around my mental health and uni. not a great time to have a career crisis whilst living in the middle of a pandemic lmao.

the last time i updated, i gave you guys the gift of fluff. maybe i should tone down a bit? or maybe not? i’m also sorry if this took ages. had an awful writer’s block. oooh, also i wrote an interview excerpt for this chapter. i added a link if you wanted to read it but no pressure! it’s just a lil’ sumn sumn :) anyway, enjoy reading!

hope you guys are safe & healthy! keep practicing social distancing and please wear your masks! sending all my love ♡

UPDATES EVERY SATURDAY 11 PM CST WHENEVER I CAN

gif credits: @tommybabyholland

Your friends have told you countless times to bite the bullet, however, you’ve seemed to swallow it instead. Here you were, lying in the same bed with Tom Holland, mere inches against each other.

If anyone told you that you would be lying on the same bed as the guy you swore you hated a few months ago, you’d probably laugh at their face.

You were definitely considering that maybe this whole fake dating thing wasn’t such a horrid idea after all.

The room was dimmed to almost pitch black now. You could see a small streak of light peering from the curtains, probably from all of the street lights outside, allowing you to at least see something. You were exhausted but somehow you couldn’t sleep at the same time.

The only reasonable thing that you could put your blame into was your heart, which was beating quite rapidly, by the way. You didn’t even know why you felt this nervous around him, it’s not like he’s a complete stranger.

You’ve known Tom for a good two months—two and a half if you want to be specific. You picked up on his little quirks: his eyes crinkle when he laughs genuinely, he doesn’t like that much sugar in his tea. He likes his dog, Tessa, very much which you were already a goner for. He also hums when he’s happy which surprised you one day, not knowing what to do with that information.

You also found out that his hands were always cold, which always startles you as your hands were extremely warm. Like right now, you could feel his fingertips grazing upon yours. As if your heart can handle even more of your emotions right now.

You were confused as to why you were extremely nervous around him all of a sudden. Is it because this is the first time your sharing a bed with your pretend boyfriend? Is it because the last time you shared a bed with someone who you had no relation to is with your ex-boyfriend?

It was driving you insane and you really had to get it together. You were both lying on your backs so all you could stare at was the empty ceiling. You took a quick look at Tom, who was already sleeping.

Ah, so he snores. You made a mental note to yourself, wondering how you can use that information and pester him with it. He didn’t have loud snores, just soft ones but still loud for you to hear.

You turned your body and lain on your side, choosing to face Tom. He really looked peaceful sleeping and the sight of him be at peace was enough to calm you down.

With that, you found your eyes slowly start to droop down. The image of Tom sleeping soundly was the last thing you saw before you drifted off to sleep.

You noticed three things as soon as you woke up. You still had your eyes shut, only because you refuse to accept that it was already a new day.

The first thing you noticed was the annoying alarm tone that kept ringing on the bedside table. One of these days, I’ll end up throwing and smashing my phone.

The second thing was how hot warm you felt. You felt the heat radiating beside you and you weren’t exactly used to it. You like the feeling of sleeping in a cold room while also burying yourself with blankets.

The third thing you noticed was the pair of arms wrapped around you. As you slowly opened your eyes, you were greeted by the extremely close proximity that you shared with Tom.

You found yourself cuddling Tom. Your head was resting in between his chest and his arm—the same arm that was wrapped around you. In the meanwhile, Tom’s other hand was resting on the side of your face, building the illusion that he may have caressed the side of your face.

You, on the other hand, had your left arm resting on top of his chest while the other was tucked underneath the pillow.

You wondered how the hell you ended up in this position, but knowing how you move a lot in your sleep, you probably initiated this in the first place. You also wondered how Tom can sleep through this annoying alarm, especially since it kept ringing every ten minutes.

Tilting your head up a bit, your eyes met the sight of his lips. However, from this angle, you could also clearly see the freckles speckled on his face. With the beaming sun and its fight to fill the room with light against the corners of the curtains, it only made things worse for you. Tom, with his body outlined by the light, absolutely looked angelic—as if the universe only favoured him and him alone.

You slowly reached for his hand and removed it from the corner of your neck, carefully resting it on top of his stomach. After successfully doing so, comes the real challenge. You slowly released yourself from the grip of his arm and tried your best to get out of the bed without waking Tom up.

Your logic? It would be rude to wake someone up from their sleep—especially when they can’t be bothered to be woken up by the alarm anyway. You also wanted this moment for yourself. You thought that it was best if Tom had no recollection of waking up to you two cuddling, acting as a true couple when there are no cameras around you.

You walked to the bathroom to get yourself ready. You had a whole day of photoshoots and you also had to squeeze in a couple of interviews after. You didn’t want to miss your best friend’s wedding so you had to do whatever you can in order to balance your social life and work.

You already knew that you were going to be exhausted for today and you love your job, you really do, but sometimes you wished that you could catch a break without losing sleep for the next couple of days.

After taking a long hot shower and doing your essential skin routine—knowing that this is the only form of relaxation you’re going to get for the next couple of days— you slipped into a pair of mom jeans and a loose shirt. You packed this much because you knew you wouldn’t get the chance to drive home anyway.

Just as you stepped out of the bathroom, your phone buzzed in your hand and saw a text from your manager.

Zoë: On my way to the hotel! I will be there in 20 mins or so. Be sure that you’re ready so we can get going.

“Oh, you’re already good to go?” You looked up from your phone and saw Tom yawning and rubbing his eyes. He was still wearing your sweatpants and he was still shirtless.

You nodded. “Zoë’s picking me up.” You replied as you tidied the bed. It took you a couple of minutes before the words you said just sunk in. “Oh god, Zoë’s picking me up.” You repeated with wide eyes.

“Yeah?” Tom chuckled, seemingly lost as to what you were trying to point out.

“She doesn't really know that you slept with me.” You said but as soon as you realized what you just said, you knew you fucked up. You saw Tom smirking at you which only prompted you to hit him with the pillow. “I didn’t mean it like that, you weirdo.”

“Oh, sure.” He teased as he put on his shirt. “I mean I’m pretty sure that I’m not the one who practically clung to a person while sleeping.”

“Shut up, Holland. You know I move a lot when I sleep.” You muttered as a pathetic excuse to hopefully shut him up.

“To be quite fair, I didn’t know that you do that whenever you sleep, but it’s nice to know that now.” He grinned.

“Oh god,” You groaned. “Let’s just go so I can check out now. Zoë’s going to be here soon and I want you gone asap.” You said as you glanced around the room just so you know you didn’t leave anything behind.

“Wait, what about your sweatpants?”

“Just give it to me the next time you see me.” You said as you pulled him out of the room and made your way to the front desk.

It turns out Zoë had no concept of time. As soon as you finished checking out, you saw your manager already waiting in the lobby. Oh, you recognized her big blonde hair from anywhere. She was sitting in one of the plush sofas, dressed in a white romper and even had her cat-eye sunglasses on. She looked like she’s about to catch her husband having an affair.

“Ah, Y/N,” She said with a huge smile. “Thanks but you should know if that ever were to happen, I would pick something more flashy.”

Oh, I said that out loud?! You practically yelled at yourself.

“We should get going, honey, we’ll grab you some breakfast on the way.” Zoë fixed the stray strands of your hair. You couldn’t be bothered to do your hair knowing that the stylists are going to give it hell anyway, so you just tied it in a low ponytail.

“Um,” You didn’t even know how to say it. Where you even going to bring Tom up? If so, what were you going to say anyway? That you spent a night with your pretend boyfriend? Which shouldn’t be a huge deal but you were sure that your stunt doesn’t involve actually falling for each other.

“Tom,” Zoë’s pitch went a bit higher, surprised to see Tom standing behind you. “What’re you doing here, hon?” She asked quietly.

“Oh, I-”

“He spent the night with me. Tom was exhausted and it wasn’t safe for him to drive last night, so I asked him to stay.” You explained, cutting Tom off. You just wanted to get it over with and you were bound to face the storm sooner or later anyway.

Zoë stared at the two of you for a moment, an undistinguishable look painted all over her face. You took a quick look at Tom who was also observing your manager’s reaction.

However, she chose to drop it. “Alright, c’mon, honey. You have a long day today.” Your manager said after she flashed Tom a smile and turned around, leaving you both relieved.

As you watched your manager leave and walk towards her vehicle, you turned to Tom and said, “I guess I’ll see you soon?”

Tom smiled and nodded, “I’ll see you soon, my darling.” He said softly.

You felt your cheeks start to burn again so you did what you always do whenever you don’t know how to respond or when you’re just plain embarrassed—walk away and practically scream inside your head.

You were walking—sprinting, more like— towards the vehicle and when you got in, you were greeted with a big smile by Zoë. It terrified you.

“Y/N, hon,” She initiated with a soft voice. “You know sooner or later this stunt will all come to an end right?”

“Yeah, I know.” You answered, slightly confused as to why this was brought up all of a sudden.

“Okay, good, good...” Zoë trailed off. “I just—I see how things may escalate and I don’t want to see you hurt, Y/N.”

“Yeah, I know.” You acknowledged, though this time you said it in a whisper. It was day 78 that you came clean to yourself and realized maybe you were developing a tiny crush on Tom.

The people from the magazine were doing a feature story on you. Not only that you were going to be on the cover of the magazine, but you were also going to get a ten-page spread that included an interview. The whole theme of the issue was individuality so your spread had to be rooted from your style, so the outfits, the makeup, and hair had to base off of you as a concept while still adding an editorial element to it.

You were already wearing the third outfit, wearing a pink frilly floral dress and it had hand-stitched and delicately placed flowers for the details—in which the outfit was inspired by your character in your tv series.

You were waiting for your hair and makeup to be done at the same time. The set was going to be in a pool so you also had to have your manicure and pedicure done. Basically, you had no control over your body.

“How are you doing, hon?” Zoë asked as she passed by your chair.

“’m still okay,” You mumbled. “Can I take a sip from my coffee though?”

Maria’s, the nail tech for this shoot, eyes went wide. “Your nails aren’t dry yet,” She pointed out.

“Please, Maria?” You pouted. You were literally about to pass out from exhaustion and you still had a full day ahead.

Maria rolled her eyes and gave in. “Fine, I’ll hold the cup.” She said before she grabbed your coffee from your manager.

As you happily indulged the coffee, you heard Ruby, the makeup artist, let out a sigh behind you.“Y/N, I just did your makeup.”

“Nothing bad happened! I just need to reapply the lipstick, it’s okay.” You quickly defended.

“Child, you are going to be the death of me,” Ruby mumbled loud enough for the two of you. “You’re lucky I like you because if my other clients did this I would’ve grabbed their coffee and then they would’ve gone full diva on me.”

You just gave her a huge smile before she reapplied your lipstick. The hairstylist just finished doing your hair, pinning tiny flowers all over your hair and having them scattered all over. You couldn’t believe that you had flowers all over your hair again—which only reminded you of Tom and what happened last night.

Last night felt so surreal. It was the first time you two didn’t have knives on each other’s necks. It was the first time you felt comfortable around him and the experience was very intimate, it almost drove you mad.

However, your manager’s words echoed back at you. It’s all a stunt and it will come to an end.

“Are you ready, Y/N?” The photographer asked, breaking up your thoughts. Am I?

From pink frilly dresses to big tan sherpa coats, you were finally done with the photo shoot. The shoot went on for hours and all you wanted to do was to get rid of everything that your skin and hair had to endure. However, it doesn’t end there. You still had to do a short interview for the magazine.

You were still wearing one of the outfits you had for the shoot—a black tube-top jumpsuit that clung into your body like second skin, along with tall pencil-heeled black pumps. This was definitely far from comfortable nor is it something that you’d wear, but you did like how it looked on you. “I look like the cold-hearted editor-in-chief in a magazine from a Hallmark movie” was all you said when you looked in the mirror.

You had to excuse yourself from the young journalist who patiently waited for you as your photoshoot ran a bit late. She was drinking the coffee that you had given her—a small token of an apology for the time she probably wasted waiting.

She gladly understood and went on with the interview. You were glad to do so anyway since you’re embarrassed for making her wait. You were asked about Amelia, the character that you play in the show Alchemist.

As Y/N eased into the interview, still wearing one of her outfits from the photoshoot, she was asked about her resonation with her character. “I see only tiny bits of myself as her—that being hard-headed and using self-deprecating jokes as a coping mechanism,” she answered with a small laugh.

You were also asked about your personal struggle between dropping out of school—potentially ruining your future— and your unstable acting career.

She thought she possibly made a huge mistake of ruining her future. Luckily, Y/N received a casting call for the show Alchemist. “I still believe it’s pure luck. I’m lucky that I got the part and the show helped me shape my career, however, I can’t deny that I was really close to giving up.”

Of course, the current state of your love life had to be included.

“Yeah, I am seeing someone.” Y/N admits with a soft smile. “People know who he is and frankly, I don’t think I have to explicitly say his name as who I date shouldn’t be anyone’s business.” Her cheeks were flushed red as soon as the words came out of her mouth. Y/N was kind enough to explain that she didn’t mean it to sound so harsh, but she still stands firm with her words.

You quickly and kindly expressed to the journalist that you mean well. You had no intention of being rude or for it to sound rude, but you still hold true to your words. The journalist was kind enough to understand your sentiments regarding this.

The interview ended in a breeze and you were absolutely longing for the time when you can take a nice long bath. You quickly thanked the journalist as she bid her way goodbye.

You can only hope that this cover issue finds you well.

Time went by slowly and yet very quickly at the same time. You haven’t seen any of your friends for a couple of weeks as you’ve been occupied by filming, doing interviews, and photoshoots.

You haven’t seen Tom in quite a while too—which you didn’t mind. You actually used this time to reevaluate your uncertain feelings for him. People at set didn’t seem to notice that he rarely showed up at your shoots—at least if they did, they would just assume that he’s busy since he did have an endless list of projects.

As you were still uncertain about where your feelings lie with Tom, you chose this time to at least try and forget about him. Admittedly, it was difficult since people would always bring him up at some point or he would just be everywhere on social media.

This time apart from Tom did give you a sense of peace. You weren’t in the constant state of practically having a heart attack around him, no matter how cliché it sounds. You hated that he had this effect on you but you had to act like everything’s fine—hoping that you’re doing a damn well job because acting is how you put food on the table.

However, just like the opening lyrics of One Direction’s most gut-wrenching song, Love You Goodbye, mentioned: “It’s inevitable, everything that’s good comes to an end.”

And boy, did it end alright.

Ronnie: pls tell me it’s actually ur day off bc I really plan on having dinner with u. 🥺

You were about to have a long, relaxing bath (infused with epsom salts of course) when you read the text from your best friend. You were longing for this heaven-like bath and there’s no way you’re going to pass it up.

You: technically yes. the shoot ran till morning but all i’ve done since then was sleep. I'm about to take a bath tho & not planning to get out until i turn into a human prune lmao

Ronnie: ok! I'll buy us dinner, any suggestions?

You: really craving for some hearty Korean food rn 🤧

Ronnie: gotcha! I'll get u ur usual, do u want me to buy drinks too?

You were still debating whether to go drinking tonight when your phone pinged, indicating a text.

Ronnie: babes you’re taking too long. I'm getting us drinks.

You: guess there’s no way out then lmao

Ronnie: oh u bet. I'll be there in an hour-ish, maybe earlier.

You: might still be in the bath when u arrive. 😬

Ronnie: nah you’re ok haha. I have keys anyway and I'll make myself at home but u already knew that. 😌

You rolled your eyes but still had a smile on your face. You eventually gave Veronica some duplicates as she was constantly popping by anyway. It didn’t make sense for both of you to keep Ronnie out, waiting for you to come home when you could easily just give her some keys. At some point, you even asked her to move in. She is dancing around the idea though.

Turning your phone off, you stepped into your epsom-salt-bubble bath—ready to shut off from the world and embrace the relaxation.

After strategically propping your laptop at the bathroom counter, you’ve managed to finish two episodes of New Girl whilst you were in the tub. You could’ve used the bathtub tray that Olivia got you for your birthday, but you couldn’t trust yourself with that type of risk—no matter how careful you were.

It wasn’t long when you heard a small commotion coming from the living room. You had your eyebrows furrowed, surely it was just Ronnie who’s dropping by today. Unless she invited Olivia too?

Stepping out of the tub, you wrapped a towel around your body. You shut off your laptop and grabbed your phone before you left the bathroom.

“Ronnie?” You called out above the chatter from the living room. “Ronnie, is that you?”

“Yeah, right here, babes!” You heard her yell back. Upon reaching the living room, you saw Ronnie setting the food down on the table with Harrison putting the drinks down. “Oh, hey! I got us bibimbap and tteokbokki from Kim’s Kitchen. I also asked for extra kimchi because that is to die for.” Veronica exclaimed with a huge smile. “Oh and Mrs. Kim says hi.”

You forced a huge smile in response, turning to your best friend and subtly motioning at Harrison who was standing beside her.

“Oh! oh! Y/N, I hope you don’t mind that I invited them. They called me the same time as I texted you and I figured you wouldn’t mind because we’re all friends here, right?” Veronica smiled nervously.

“A head’s up would’ve been nice, because...” You motioned to yourself, pointing out that you were still in your towel. “I mean it is my home and I should dress however I want but obviously you got your boyfriend here. The least I could do is look presentable.”

Harrison turned red and so did Veronica. “Y/N, Harrison is not my boy—”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I’ll go get changed.” You rolled your eyes and dismissed the entire thing. What can you do, kick them out? Wait—

“Wait, did you say “them” earlier? Is anyone else coming?” You asked.

“Uh...” Veronica was looking for the right words to say until her eyes met someone else’s and looked right past you.

You turned around and saw Tom standing in the middle of the room, holding plates and cutlery from your kitchen. Pinching the bridge of your nose to prevent the emerging migraine you’re about to endure and closed your eyes, you took a deep breath.

“Uh—Hi, Y/N” Tom waved shyly. That’s all it took. All of those repressed feelings that you were trying to fight off were coming back. With your heart beating furiously, you knew you were a goner and you hated that.

“Hi Tom,” you muttered. You two haven’t spoken to each other in a while since the morning after the wedding. God, this is awkward.

You caught his eyes flickered to your body and put his head down, walking towards Harrison and Veronica, avoiding eye contact. You realized you were still in your towel, turning red. “Uh, I’ll go get changed.” You muttered, practically running towards your room to change.

You were changing into an oversized shirt and into some leggings when you heard a knock from the door. “I’m decent!” You yelled.

The door slowly opened, Tom peering from the other side.

“Oh, hey.” You greeted him as he slowly went inside your room. He was looking around, observing your room. Your bedroom wasn’t special but it’s your favourite place. The walls were painted white—which is why when the sun beams through your windows, it bounces off through the walls and illuminates your entire room. Your room consisted of white furniture and bedding, but you made up for it by putting numerous plants all over your room and using earthy tones such as blankets and decorative pillows as accents.

“Hey,” Tom stepped a bit closer “Sorry about earlier. If I knew you’d feel uncomfortable, I wouldn’t have come.” He apologized.

“No, you’re good. I guess I was just caught by surprise.” You quickly dismissed.

There was an odd silence. Is this what happens when you don’t talk for quite a while?

“Oh, I also wanted to give you this,” Tom said, handing you the sweatpants that he borrowed a while ago. The cursed night that brought you closer to each other, literally. Grabbing the neatly folded pants, your fingers gently grazed upon his—the first time you had physical contact ever since that night. “Don’t worry, I washed it.” He added.

“Eh, I think I’ll wash it again just to make sure.” You joked, trying to diffuse the awkwardness.

Tom let out a small laugh, scratching the back of his head. “I’m sorry.” You heard him say as you put your hair into a loose ponytail.

“For what?” You asked, brows furrowed.

“I wasn’t exactly the finest “boyfriend” in the world.” He explained, putting air quotes on the word ‘boyfriend’. “I’d say I was busy but I should’ve made time.”

You gave him a small smile. “It’s okay, Tom.” You turned around to place the pants inside the drawer. “It’s not like you’re my actual boyfriend anyway.” You laughed awkwardly.

For some reason, that last sentence left an unpleasant feeling on you. Why are you longing for Tom anyway? Are you that deprived?

Tom let out an awkward chuckle and mumbled a quiet “yeah,”

There it is again. That awkward silence. Will this last for the entire night because this is going to be exhausting?

All of a sudden, Tom looked at you with a smile. “Why are we being weird?” Tom asked, laughing.

“Yeah, I don’t even know either,” You couldn't help but laugh as well. “I’m definitely not used to you being this quiet.”

“Are you saying that you missed it then?” He asked with a smirk. “Better yet are you saying that you missed me?”

You rolled your eyes. There’s the Tom that you knew. “I wouldn’t go that far, Tom.” You replied, fighting off a smile.

“’m just teasing, darling,” He laughed softly. “So, should we just forget everything and just be friends?” He asked, offering his hand.

You were about to reply when you heard a loud knock from the other side of the door. “Oi, are you two making out in there?” You heard Veronica yell obnoxiously from the other side.

“Veronica!” You shrieked out of pure embarrassment. You felt your face turning red, as if like you’re a preteen caught with her crush.

You pulled the door open and dragged Tom outside out of pure embarrassment, only to meet Veronica and Harrison who were leisurely sitting by the couch, trying to fight off their smirks.

“Food’s getting cold,” Harrison said innocently as you glared at the both of them.

“I see that you two are getting close,” Veronica commented eyeing both of your hands that were still clasped.

“I—uh,” You’re at a loss for words. You forgot the calm feeling of how Tom’s hands felt against yours.

You were about to let go when Tom raised both of your hands to show Haz and Ronnie. “I like holding her hand, it’s always so warm,” Tom commented with a soft smile. “One of the perks of fake dating, Y/N.”

Veronica took a good look at you while you were busy staring at Tom. Ronnie knows that stare of yours and if she’s being honest, she doesn’t know whether to feel happy or anxious for you.

“Yeah, that is until your hands get damp.” You teased, rolling your eyes. “Let’s just eat.” You said as you grabbed a cushion and sat on the floor.

“Okay, so what are we having?” Tom asked as he stared at the table full of Korean dishes.

“Well, I ordered each of us a bowl of bibimbap because I have no clue what you two like to eat” Ronnie said, pertaining to Tom and Harrison. She handed them each a bowl. “They’re all beef, by the way—oh except for Y/N’s, she has chicken.”

“Have you had bibimbap before?” You asked Tom who was behind you, sitting on the couch.

He shook his head in response, grabbing a cushion and opted to sit on the floor, right next to you. “I’ve had Korean BBQ before, does that count?”

“Not quite,” You laughed. “Here, I’ll add some chilli paste.”

“Darling, don’t add too much—” Tom argued while trying to grab the chilli paste from your hands. He ended just holding onto your hand instead.

“C’mon, it’s better when it’s spicy!” You defended, trying to squeeze more into his bowl.

“Are you sure you’re not adding that much because you hate me?” You could feel the close proximity of his face against yours.

“Oh, please,” You turned to face him “I could never hate you, Tommy.” You blinking innocently, trying to hide the fact that he’s literally inches away from you.

While you and Tom are practically exploring this whole new territory of closeness, Veronica was quietly watching it unfold in front of her eyes.

“They seem to be getting along quite well,” Harrison commented before shoving a spoon into his mouth.

“Yeah, maybe too well.” Veronica murmured, still staring at the couple in front of her.

“And that’s a bad thing?” Haz asked with a raised eyebrow. Curious.

Veronica couldn’t answer. Is it really a bad thing or was she just being overprotective? She should be happy for her friend! Heck, she should be happy that you and Tom were finally getting along for once.

Veronica chose to just look past it and accept the situation for what it is for now: a miracle.

“I guess not,” Veronica answered, smiling softly at Harrison who gladly smiled in return.

“Dinner was spectacular,” Tom commented with a smile “Well done, Ronnie.”

“Oh—psh!” Ronnie waved her hand nonchalantly, “That was nothing.”

“Yeah, because Mrs. Kim prepared all of it” You argued jokingly. “Besides, I suggested that we should have Korean cuisine tonight.”

“Then I guess I should thank you, Y/N,” Tom grabbed the sides of your face and squished your cheeks. “Thanks, darling.” He grinned.

You scrunched your face and took his hand away. “You’re annoying,” You told Tom while gathering the plates, starting to clear the table.

“I’ll get that, Y/N,” Harrison said while grabbing the plates from you. “I’ll do the dishes, you lot just stay put here.”

“Ooh, I’ll help!” Veronica stood up to help Harrison.

“No, it’s fine. Just stay there, Ronnie. It’s okay.” Harrison replied, his tone of voice suddenly warm towards Veronica.

“You’re so sweet,” Veronica said in awe. “But that won’t work for me, babe. I’ll help you, it’s totally okay.” She insisted, clearing the rest of the table and following Harrison towards the kitchen.

You were about to head into the spare bedroom when you felt Tom wrap his hands around yours. “Where are you going?” He asked.

“I’m just going to grab something,” You replied, “Even if I try to get away from you, I couldn’t. Trust me.” You teased.

Tom nodded understandably, letting go of your hand.

As you were on your way to the spare room, you couldn’t help but mumble “Why’s he being so clingy all of a sudden? Is this what he’s like to his friends?” You chose to shake off your thoughts against your better judgment.

“What’s that?” Tom asked as soon as you entered the living room.

“A bean bag chair,” You answered, dropping it in front of him. “So you can stop hogging my place on the sofa.”

“Aw, you got a bean bag chair just for me?” He asked with a huge grin on his face.

You rolled your eyes, “I didn’t buy it just for you, dumb ass.”

“Whatever you say, Y/N.” He grinned. “Whatever you say.” Tom then sat on the bean bag chair, except he sat at the very upper part of it and tried to keep his balance whilst doing so.

This is the most boyish thing you’ve seen Tom do—no fancy clothing, no assistants around him, no cameras, none of it. He looked like an average guy, doing silly and harmless things, who’s just trying to have fun.

With that in mind, you couldn’t help but pull your phone out and film him doing so. Eventually, he caught on and saw that you had your phone out, giving a smile.

Laughing, you said, “That’s not how you sit on it!”

“I’ll sit on it however I want,” He teased. You quit filming and decided to upload the clip on your Instagram story. It was cute, pure, and authentic. Three words that you swore you wouldn’t use when pertaining to you and Tom.

This fake dating thing is getting harder and harder. Seeing that you and Tom finally decided to act friendly around each other, it’s definitely going to provoke the feelings you were trying to suppress from him.

“Okay, so I got bottles of soju.” Veronica announced while wiping her hands with the kitchen towel. “Anyone up for a Paranoia drinking game?” She asked with a smirk.

“Why must we play a game while drinking?” You asked, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“I think it’ll be fun, Y/N.” Tom commented. “This is the right moment to build a tight bond with each other.”

“Yeah, because nothing says bonding like alcohol and using repressed feelings.” You mumbled.

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