Tumgik
#cressworth apartment au
mentallyinwalmart · 6 years
Text
‘Neighbors’ A Cresswoth AU
Not many people bothered my in my apartment. I was one of three studios on the fifth floor, and the rest of this floor was occupied by the mammoth AC and heating units, making the noise level high, but the rent low. 
The floor consisted of me, a grad student, my neighbor two doors down who had about a hundred cats that she hid on the roof whenever the super came by to fix something, and the empty apartment between us. Oh, and the temperature regulation units, and the occasional pigeon that wandered in from the often open door to the roof. 
That is, until this morning, when a whole mess of banging and cursing could be heard coming from the hall outside my door. And then, what sounded like someone trying to key into my apartment. I jumped up from my chair, dropping my book where I’d been sitting and dashed across the room, not bothering to look through the peep hole and yanking open my front door to reveal--
A boy who looked no older than I was fumbling with a set of keys, his cheeks flushing as he looked at me, then past me into my apartment. 
“I--” He stammered as his eyes moved back to my face, still managing to scan and catalog my whole face despite seeming very flustered. 
“Do you often like to break into the apartments of young women?” I ask, raising an eyebrow as I let my eyes rove over his smooth waves of hair, his piercing dark eyes, and his unfairly sharp jawline. I feel a slight tingle in my chest and curse my would-be intruder for being someone I would normally try and hit on. “Or am I a special case?” 
“The super told me 503. But obviously,” He seems to have searched every inch of me and decided he liked what he found because the blush fades from his cheeks and he leans into my doorframe. “He was mistaken.”
He shoots me a cocky grin before pushing off the doorframe and taking a step back. As he does so, the elevator dings and the doors open to reveal a heap of boxes, loose books, furniture, and the most hauntingly beautiful girl I have ever seen. Her long dark hair hangs in curtains around her face, and her face looks as though it was sculpted from marble. From the way she is dressed, to the way she carries herself, even as she holds two precariously stacked boxes, she looks like she stepped straight out of a renaissance painting. 
I drag my gaze away from her and back to the boy in the hall who is studying me as I stare at the girl in the elevator. I shoot him a dirty look before moving to close my door, but not before I hear the woman call in a voice so sickeningly low and melodic, 
“Found the room Thomas?” 
Thomas
He raises his eyebrows at the girl, eyes drifting back to me, but before he can speak, I do. 
“502 is yours.” I let my gaze rove over him one last time as I gesture to the apartment across the hall. “Hope you aren’t allergic to cats.” 
I close my door on my beautiful new neighbor and his even more captivating girlfriend, moving across the room to get back to my book.
But my day is unproductive. Noise of laughter and light-hearted bickering coming consistently from the hallway until finally, it fades into the usual silence, broken up only by the loud banging of the AC units.
I take a pause midway through the evening, deciding to change into my pajamas and make a cup of tea. I pull on some large boxer shorts and a cut-up T-shirt that boasted that “I dig bones”. I had tried to explain to Liza that this was an archeologist joke, not a forensics joke, but she had insisted on buying it for me anyway. I tied my hair into a high ponytail and finish my assigned reading while nursing my cup of tea.
 Just as I finally begin to outline my thesis and begin to feel as if perhaps I won’t lose this whole day to my new neighbor, a knock comes at my door.
Assuming it is Mrs Harvey here to ask me to retrieve one of her cats from the roof I pad over to the door. Out of habit, I open the door without checking the peep hole and, for the second time that day am faced with my annoyingly attractive new neighbor. Thomas. 
“Can I ask you a favor?” He keeps his eyes fixed firmly on my face, and I notice his own jaw seems clenched and his cheeks slightly pale. “There are about a million spiders that have just emerged from a drawer in my kitchen, and I can’t get ahold of the super.” 
For some reason, I nod. 
“Let me just fetch a few glasses.” 
He looks perplexed but I leave him at the door, quickly grabbing a large bowl, a glass, and a piece of card stock from my desk before returning to the hall. He looks as though he wants to question me, but decides against it, simply leading the way into his apartment.
It is an absolute mess. The only room that seems to be properly set up is the bedroom, the rest of them a state of disarray, boxes and random objects piled up everywhere. The layout is nearly identical to mine, and I know my way to the kitchen without his direction. 
He points to the drawer, hanging back at the edge of the kitchen as I venture closer. On the counter are three fat daddy long legs, somewhat formidable in size, but not at all concerning to anyone over the age of seven. Except apparently this giant baby. I quickly trapped all three of them under the bowl, spotting a fourth skittering across the counter. I quickly trap that one under the spare glass, and drag it across the counter before slipping the paper under both dishes. 
Thomas practically jumps out of my way as I march through the kitchen, out the door, down the hall, and onto the roof. I let the spiders go in the roof garden before turning on my heel to see Thomas standing just past the threshold of the door. 
“That was impressive.” Is all he says, and for the first time I can see him taking in my outfit, pausing for just a moment too long as he takes in my torso, eyes lingering on where my nipples are visible through my shirt, erected by the cool night air. 
I raise an eyebrow as I take in his clothing, his faded pajama pants and baggy concert t-shirt a clear indication that he too had been winding down for the evening.
Silence hangs about us in the air, and I realize it is my turn to speak. But I can’t think of anything, so I simply stare at him, tucking my dishes under my arm. 
“Let me repay you.” He says with a smile, “Dinner.” I flush and he grins, “I can’t offer much, being a broke grad student and all, but I can offer some of the leftovers my sister left in my fridge.” 
My brain whirs, catching on the word sister. So that was the beautiful girl he was with! Now that I knew to look, the family resemblance was there. I offer him a smile, stepping towards him. 
“Thank you, Thomas. That sounds lovely.” I walk over to him, stopping just before him.
He raises an eyebrow, 
“Anytime, Audrey Rose.”
I started, 
“How did you.”
But he grinned, 
“A magician never reveals his tricks.” I shake my head and step to move past him but he puts a hand on my waist, “But it was on your mailbox.” 
My heart flutters at his touch and his words in equal measure. He looked at my mailbox. A weird thing to be excited about, but I didn’t let myself get bogged down by my own cynicism. 
We eat, drink, and make merry, talking about everything from politics, to our classes in school, to whose grad program is better. By the end of the night I am very content with my new neighbor, especially when he insists on walking me home. 
I laugh as we walk across the hall and he gallantly opens my door for me. 
“This was good fun, Audrey Rose.” He says with a smile that lights up his eyes, “I would love to do it again.” 
He leans towards me and my heart flutters, is he really going to? But before I can mortify myself by leaning in as well, he plucks the phone from my hand. He types in a few numbers and ringing can be heard from somewhere in his apartment. 
“Now you have my number.” He says, “I encourage you to use it.” 
I smile as he bows his head slightly before turning away to go back into his apartment. I close the door and lean back against it, holding the phone as though it contained the most precious secret on earth, staring at that glorious set of numbers glowing back at me. 
AAAAAAAA thank you so much for reading!!! I loved writing this so much I’m thinking of making it a series. Would you guys want to read two or three more that come from this AU? 
xx
32 notes · View notes
shyvioletcat · 4 years
Note
Can you maybe do something like rowan looks at Aelin with a smirk on his face and she says "don´t you dare" and then he throws her over his shoulder and maybe carry her to her/his bed or the couch?
OK... I posted the fic on the wrong prompt *facepalm* just if everyone was wondering where that notification went. I saved that prompt though, because it was a good one. Anyway... lets try this again.
SO... I stole this prompt for my Striking Matches AU because this is a very firefighter-y thing to do in my opinion.
~~~~~
“I know I’ve said it a million times, but I’ll say it again,” Aelin panted, gripping the handrail tightly. “I hate these stairs.”
Rowan laughed from where we walked a few steps in front of her.
“How does a building in this day and age not have an elevator,” Aelin complained some more.
“It’s an old building I guess,” Rowan said over his shoulder.
“Well I hate it,” Aelin declared. “And I hate that you’re barely out of breath.”
“The stamina is all part of the job,” Rowan explained. “I thought we were well acquainted with the extent of my stamina by now. You should know that stairs are absolutely nothing to me.”
Aelin’s cheeks heated, and it had nothing to do with exertion. “Don’t tease, I don’t have the energy to fight back.” She paused on the landing to catch her breath. “Gods, we’re only on the fourth floor. I think you’re going to have to carry me.”
Aelin looked at her boyfriend, he was smirking at her – mischief shining in her eyes. 
“Rowan, no,” Aelin said, backing up a step. “No. Don’t you dare.”
Rowan didn’t listen, he only smirked wider and one moment Aelin was standing and the next she was being thrown over Rowan’s shoulder.
“Rowan,” she hissed. “Put me down right now.”
“No,” he replied simply. “I’m tired of your whining. This way we both win.”
“How?” Aelin asked, bracing herself so her head stopped dangling.
By this time was already halfway up the next flight of stairs. “We’ll be faster this way and I don’t have to listen to you complaining. You also get a perfect and interrupted view of my ass for a while.”
Aelin couldn’t complain about that. But his shoulder digging into her stomach, that she could complain about.
“I don’t think I’m winning right now,” Aelin grumbled as she tried to get a better position. Rowan sensed her discomfort and shifted her a little and she was suddenly much comfier on his broad shoulder. 
“Isn’t this one of your fantasies? Being carried by a fireman up to your room? I’m still in my uniform and everything.”
Aelin could hear the smile in his voice. She was silent on the matter, not wanting to admit to anything. The sound of Rowan’s rumbling chuckle was evidence that she had been very well and truly found out. 
“Can you at least make sure my ass is not hanging out?” 
“Oh, it’s not. But I would say I am most definitely still winning on that account.” Rowan finished his sentence with a firm slap to Aelin’s backside that had her gasping out his name in surprise. That sound had barely finished ringing when Rowan said. “Hello Glennis, how are you this evening.”
Aelin pressed her palms against Rowan’s lower back, praying that he was just playing around. That Rowan was not in fact talking to the very kind old lady from the level below.
“I’m very well, thank you Rowan,” Glennis replied. “What might the two of you be up to?”
Rowan let out a dramatic and resigned sigh. “This one,” he gave Aelin a jostle, “was complaining about the stairs so I thought I’d give her a hand.” 
Glennis laughed, then projected her voice a little. “Well dearie, if I can make it up the stairs, so can you.”
Aelin glanced up to see Rowan shake his head. “That’s what I’ve been telling her.”
Aelin scowled as Glennis laughed again and how Rowan was no doubt smiling. 
“I’ll let  you get back to it,” Glennis said and Aelin heard her door open and close.
Once she knew they were alone Aelin reached down and pinched Rowan on the butt, then further displayed her displeasure by jabbing him in the ribs for good measure.
“You’re going to pay for that,” Aelin said.
“I’m very much looking forward to it,” Rowan said, utterly sure of himself and the outcome of this little escapade.
They finally reached their apartment, luckily not running into any more of their neighbours. So easily, Rowan pulled out his keys from his pocket and unlocked the door. Aelin expected him to put her down once they got in the doorway, but he didn’t. He carried her all the way to the bedroom and then flipped her onto the bed, the breath leaving her body with an oof. There was no time wasted and next thing she knew Rowan was crawling over her, his lips on her neck, her jaw, her lips.
He pulled back, and he was smiling when he said, “See, I didn’t break a sweat. Now we both have energy to spare.”
“Oh? For what exactly?” Aelin said, smiling coyly up at him.
Rowan’s own smile was wicked and was answer enough, but still he gave her a slow lingering kiss that mapped out exactly what he had planned. It had Aelin thanking the gods for firefighters and their stamina. 
~~~~~
That last line is awful but we can’t win them all. Hope you enjoyed this little instalment of Firefighter Friday.
Tags: 
@tangledraysofsunshine // @nalgenewhore // @highqueenofelfhame // @galyxsy // @fucking-winchester-trash // @literary-licorice // @http-itsrebecca // @highladyofthesith // @aelinfire-bringer // @soup-that-is-too-hawt // @sleep-and-books // @3am-reading // @but-she-was-aelin-galathynius // @rowaelinforeverworld // @alifletcher2012 // @westofmoon // @tswaney17 // @mydarlingfireheart // @rowansfirebringer // @chocolate-eating-bitch-queen // @vanilla28 // @fireheart-of-your-dreams // @enquires-state-building // @im-not-rare-im-rarr // @your-high-lady // @mariamuses // @ttakeitbacknoww // @vi0let-femmes // @kindofawalkingpoem // @sleeping-and-books // @armixers-unite // @velarian-trash // @queenofxhearts // @princess-galathynius // @heroesofterrasen // @highladyofstoriesandmusic // @unassumingsodalovesherbooks // @empire-of-wildfire // @brittneym15 // @camerooonchiu // @worldoffae // @mybbyfeyre // @crackedship // @lowhangingtreebranches // @over300books // @yourwhisperingshadows // @thesirenwashere // @pilesofriles // @chemicha // @keshavomit // @sarahbringsoutmygay13 // @wifeofchrishemsworth // @impossiblescissorspeachpaper // @cat5313 // @judelovescardan // @illyrian-velaris // @flowerspringsea // @whitethorn15 // @whiskeybusiness1776 // @notaddictedtoanything // @thereaderandfangirl // @mynewdreamwasyou // @tintinnabulary // @the-regal-warrior // @searchingforbellarke // @queen-of-wings-and-fire // @court-of-fuck-me-daddy // @officialasianbitch // @burningbookz // @viajandosinalas // @chaoticskyy // @fanfictrash3000 // @blueeyes425 // @starseternalnighttriumphant // @bamchickawowow // @thehuntressofmoon // @giorgia-the-trashpanda // @flora-and-fae // @thereaderandfangirl // @illyrian-bookworm // @meltalgel-ig // @gay-book-nerd // @that-odd-puzzle-piece // @i-love-all-books // @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato // @girl-who-reads-the-books // @hizqueen4life // @the-third-me // @queen-of-glass // @belamoonbeam // @bestmelle // @cursebreaker29 // @b00kworm // @superspiritfestival // @aesthetics-11 // @maastrash // @mynewdreamwasyou // @the-last-apprentice // @charincharge // @aelin-queen-of-terrasen // @scarznstars // @absolute-dissapointment // @thesurielships // @df3ndyr // @trinitybailey2003 // @littleboxofthunder // @ladywitchling // @booknerdproblems // @rowaelin-cressworth // @sevenfreckles-for-sevenloves // @rolltide7 // @scandinavianromantic // @tillyrubes10 // @starwarsslytherin // @minaidss // @paytin77 // @jesstargaryenqueen // @anntheintrovert // @starborn-faerie-queen // @loudphantomdragon // @alyx801 // @amandaswallowtail // @louiseleblancdiggory // @abookishfreak // @woollycat22 // @claralady // @perseusannabeth // @fangirlprincess09 // @maddymelv // @sierrareads // @empress-ofbloodshed //
218 notes · View notes
theladyofdeath · 4 years
Text
In the Bleak Midwinter {5}
A Throne of Glass Period AU: 1920s.
Summary: 2 years after Arobynn Hammel is killed by Rowan Whitethorn, Maeve has returned from Eyllwe with a vengeance. Meanwhile, Rowan is getting married, Lorcan is a father, and Lysandra is finally ready to give her heart away. There’s been peace in The Cadre’s Orynth for 2 years, but peace never lasts.
A/N: Some chapters only have room for one viewpoint. You know...emotionally.
All characters belong to SJM. I am no more than a fan with a plot.
**Warning: mature content - language, alcohol use, drug use, sex, murders and shit.
Links & masterlists:
Fanfic Masterlist
Ask me
The Cadre - 1920s AU {TOG}
In the Bleak Midwinter {The Cadre, Part 2}
Tumblr media
Lorcan and Elide walked into the grand hall, where tables were spread about covered in golden tablecloths, candles, and expensive dinnerware. Wine glasses were at the head of every plate, and Lorcan found himself wondering what they would be drinking as Elide waved to Aelin across the room. He wasn’t a fan of wine, anything sweet made him angry just thinking about attempting to digest the shit.
Good thing he had a flask in his pocket.
It was good to always be prepared.
Rowan and Aelin managed to break away from the elderly couple they had been chatting with to meet Lorcan and Elide in the middle of the room. Aelin complimented Elide’s gown while Elide brushed her fingers lovingly over the pricey boa around Aelin’s neck – which, Lorcan took as a hint for his next gift.
“Who was that?” Lorcan muttered.
“Some rich couple planning to donate an ass-ton of money to something or another,” Rowan mumbled back.
Aelin rolled her eyes. “He works under close proximity with the Prime Minister, I’d be kissing his ass if I were you.”
Rowan snorted and whispered something into his wife’s ear that made her blush.
Elide gagged. “We’re in public, don’t be whispering naughty nothings into her ear.”
“Naughty nothings?” Lorcan repeated.
Elide elbowed him in the ribs before turning her attention to the stage as the big band began to play.
“I hate this music,” Lorcan mumbled. “It’s ridiculous. It’s loud.”
“Try not to sound like a grumpy old man for one night,” Elide crooned, a big grin plastered on her lips.
“Impossible, it comes naturally,” Lorcan protested, but he pulled her closer to his side, kissing her cheek.
Elide turned to him and he was already uneasy at the glint in her eye. She was about to ask something that he would want to say no to but would not, because she was the one asking it.
“Do you wanna dance?”
Lorcan sighed, and she laughed at his hesitation, but was already pulling him into the space in the middle of all the tables that had been cleared for those to dance. Without another protest, Lorcan was pulling Elide into his arms and spinning her around.
Yes, he hated the music.
Yes, he hated dancing.
But gods, he loved Elide Lochan Salvaterre.
And nothing compared to her smile, to the light in her eyes, to the utter joy she got from dancing with her husband.
He spun her around and caught her a second later, his hand resuming its position on her waist as his lips caught hers.
“Careful,” she warned, when he pulled back. “People around here will start thinking you’re soft and you have a reputation to uphold.”
“As long as they know I’m only soft for you,” he replied, his hand tightening around hers.
Elide’s eyes softened as the song ended and they began their walk to their table, where Gavriel, Fenrys, and Connall were already sitting. On the way to the table, they passed a waiter carrying a tray and Lorcan grabbed Elide a glass of champagne, which she humbly accepted.
“Lorcan!”
His name rang out, but he couldn’t tell the direction it came from. He looked to his left, where Rowan was pulling a gun out of his jacket, and Lorcan’s heart stopped as a shot rang out, into the grand hall.
Rowan’s shot rang out a second later, and Lorcan’s eyes followed that bullet as it met the chest of a man in a black fedora that stood in the doorway, his gun pointed at Lorcan.
The man fell down.
Another shot rang out.
His accomplice fell to the ground, as well.
Lorcan’s arm around Elide suddenly felt heavier, and time seemed to go slower as he looked to his wife, as the champagne glass fell from her white-gloved hand and shattered against the tile.
Chaos began, those who were attending the gala suddenly in a panic as they grabbed their loved ones and ran, their screams echoing in the large room. The band had abruptly stopped, those who had been on the stage gone, disappeared into the fleeing crowd.
But Lorcan didn’t pay mind to any of them, because his wife had gone still. Her eyes were wide, staring at him as his eyes fell down to where her other hand laid against her ribs, her white glove coated in crimson.
Lorcan wasn’t processing it.
Couldn’t process it.
Didn’t understand what was happening, not in the slightest. He heard nothing, everything had faded, all of it becoming background noise to the ringing in his ears. He was unsure why Elide was looking at him with pure panic, didn’t know why she was falling against him, didn’t know why her glove was ruined, covered in blood.
Her blood.
It was Elide’s blood.
She was bleeding.
Lorcan’s name was being screamed again, Elide’s name was being screamed, but Lorcan was falling to the floor, Elide in his arms, Elide gripping his sleeve, Elide whispering his name, her voice breaking.
Then it hit him.
It all hit him.
His heart began to race.
His palms grew sweaty, his forehead clammy, his cheeks wet as silent tears flowed down his cheeks.
She had gotten shot.
The man that had entered the room, those men, they were Maeve’s men, the one had pointed his gun at Lorcan…
And had hit Elide.
In the ribs.
Elide had been shot in the ribs.
He met her gaze, a soft sob shaking his body as he held her in his arms, sitting on the cold tile, his boots beneath him.
“No,” he breathed, and palmed her cheek, turning her face to meet his gaze, fully. “No, no, no, no, no, no.”
He was panicking.
He was having a panic attack.
Chaos surrounded him, two men were murdered, by Rowan, in the doorway, two of Maeve’s men, two men who had come to kill them, two men who had Elide’s blood on their hands.
Elide.
He whispered her name, and she opened her mouth but nothing came out. A single tear fell from her dark eyes, she found his hand and wrapped her fingers around his, both coated in blood. Lorcan didn’t even remember touching the wound, didn’t even remember any of it.
Time stood still.
Time was blurry.
Time was meaningless.
Everything was meaningless if Elide wasn’t there.
She was fading.
He could see it in her eyes, could see the sorrow, could see the beauty, the light, fading away.
“Elide,” he sobbed, and he wasn’t sure if he whispered it or screamed it, wasn’t sure who was at his back with a hand on his shoulder, wasn’t sure who was crying behind Elide, wasn’t sure of anything, anything at all.
“Gods no, gods no, gods, fuck.” He heard his voice, heard the endless string of words, knew that it was his voice, but it sounded so far away, sounded so desperate.  
Elide took a deep, shuttering breath, then her lips formed one word. 
Lucy. 
Lucy, their baby, Lucy, their child, Lucy, whose mother was lying, bleeding out, on tile of white marble.
“Lucy,” Lorcan repeated, and his tears were flowing from his cheeks onto her skin.
Elide nodded, subtly, slowly. “Lorcan.” His name, hardly audible from her pale lips.
He nodded, gripping her hand so tightly that he feared he would leave a bruise on her delicate, pale skin.
Elide’s eyes closed as she whispered, “I love you both.”
“No!” Lorcan screamed, and this time he knew he screamed, this time he felt the word tear into his body, into his soul. That one word, that single fucking word, ripped him apart and sent him into an endless void of panic and fear. “Open your eyes, El, open your fucking eyes!”
She did, she met his gaze, once more, eyes full of sadness and regret, then the sadness faded and complete adoration had her tearing up.
“Lor,” she breathed, those eyes going hazy, distant.
Lorcan’s voice broke when he answered, as calmly as he could muster, “I’m here.”
She was looking up at the ceiling, those beautiful eyes unfocused, as a small, serene smile captured her lips.
The land in Lorcan’s went limp.
And Elide Lochan Salvaterre went still.
But Lorcan continued to hold her, close to his body as his loud, piercing wail flooded the room. He held his wife’s head to his chest and hoped through some rare kind of miracle that the heart beating wildly, rioting, inside of his chest would somehow pour into hers and ignite it once more.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
@mariamuses  @garnet-29  @writer-reader-traveller  @rowaelin-cressworth  @space-buns-arsinoe  @negativenesta  @empress-ofbloodshed  @the-regal-warrior  @starseternalnighttriumphant  @westofmoon  @sammyjojaaaa  @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter  @carbconnoisseur @acer6437  @lorcansalvatearupmyheart  @cool-ish-nerd  @mynewdreamwasyou  @mourning-razorlust  @thespiritualrider  @rowaelinforeverworld  @didsomeonesayviolin  @gloriouspaintercreatorbandit  @yeah-just-ignore-me-thanks  @queen-of-glass  @the-dark-swan  @http-itsrebecca  @holdingon-21@babycardan @tswaney17  @mollycateoc  @chemicha  @bat-wing-rhys @exersize-me-i-dare-u @thespiritualrider  @luna-the-little @morebooks-pls  @shyvioletcat  @hermajestyanna  @a97girl  @stardustsroses  @queenofthemoon22 @alifletcher2012  @awkward-avocado-s  @faerie-queen-fireheart  @cwheart  @lovemollywho @emilyrose111294  @nerdperson524  @sleeping-and-books @cursebreaker29 @flora-and-fae @feyrethedarklady @the-dark-swan @rowaelinforeverworld @sjmsstuff @januarystears @mis-lil-red  @acourtofmoonlight   @rowaelinforeverworld  @courtofmaasdestruction @jjellybean  @thewayshedreamed  @wind-drinker  @aelin-rowan-whitehorn  @starseternalnighttriumphant  @hurema @http-itsrebecca  @lorcansalvatearupmyheart  @cityofchelsea16 @januarystears  @iliketoasterstrudels  @lightitup-bryce  @yikesitsmaddie @feyrethedarklady @i-love-all-books  @keshavomit  @sleeping-and-books @scarznstars  @http-itsrebecca @cat5313 @moondancer-204  @booklover242 @belamoonbeam @they-call-me-cuatro   @b00kworm  @mu-si-ca-l   @thegayerpotato  @abraxos-is-toothless  @keshavomit  @musicdreamer003   @superspiritfestival  @sailorsassley  @mymultiversee @alxanxah @viviaannvu123  @mysweetvillain @theghostlyharrypooperfan @highqueenofelfhame  @shyvioletcat @maastrash @thewayshedreamed @wifeofchrishemsworth  @loveofbooksandwine  @mu-si-ca-l​ @rosalineroses​ @l0sts0uls1128​ @mockingjayusa​ @musicdreamer003​ @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln​
213 notes · View notes
aleksandermorozovaa · 5 years
Text
Cressworth modern au headcanons part 3
These have been in my drafts for fucking months and i’m trying to clear it but enjoy them i guess 
Part 1 Part 2
Thomas and Audrey do face masks together like every Friday
She’s has painted his nails before and he paints hers all the fucking time because she has not got the patience or the fine motor skills to paint her hands.
Like this girl can slice and dice corpses but paint her nails with her less dominant hand???? Nope
Thomas is really good at painting nails and he actually googles different techniques to do. His favourite is ombre nails.
Both terrified of spiders. Like absolutely terrified of them. To the point, they evacuate the room or flat in some cases and call for someone to come save them. 
Once when they phoned Nathaniel to come to remove the spider and instead he like used a lighter and hair spray to roast the little shit. 
They were mortified and Nathaniel just shrugged. 
They never asked him again. 
Thomas is a shockingly bad morning person, like he cannot function before at least 10 am? 
When he’s sick he is either a complete baby or he’s fine and nothing will get him to slow down and rest. It depends on how sick/ill/injured he is 
For example, the time he had the sniffles and a sore throat and he self-diagnosed bed rest for three whole days, then the time he literally had like a kidney stone and still insisted on standing for a four hour autopsy
Audrey Rose had to phone an ambulance after he collapsed five minutes in. She refused to leave his side.
You can be sure that he milks it. Like he guilts Audrey into giving him cuddles 24/7 when he's recovering.
But like not seriously guilts her if she has something she needs to do he’ll pretend to sleep so she can go do it.
Audrey Rose refuses to buy trousers with no pockets out of principle and Thomas thinks this is hilarious.
Then he actually sticks his hand into one of the jean pockets when they are out shopping and he's like “women LIVE LIKE THIS”
Queue feminist Thomas sending hundreds of emails to fashion companies like “how the fuck is my future wife going to carry the shit she needs with FAKE POCKETS”
Thomas always begs her to get a matching tattoo and like sends her photos of couples tattoos with the caption “pls x”
Its more a joke than anything else because she's super against tattoos or at least matching ones anyway.
Then one day Thomas is talking about how cool it would be to get like the chemical stain for “Love” or smth totally dorky (I failed my chemistry i know nothing about it fuckin fight is yea?)
And Audrey Rose just agrees
And he’s like internally screaming because he did NOT MEAN IT but is also too stubborn to say no and like so is she because she’s still not like sold on the idea but she won’t say anything 
so like a couple days later they are both rocking fancy ass science tattoos because they ARE NERDS WHO ARE IN LOVE OKAY
Speaking of x’s on texts. Thomas is a slut for it. He puts x’s on all his messages and even university emails. Dr Wadsworth is super confused and doesn’t understand it, and Thomas has gotten wrong off his professors multiple times. 
Audrey is adamant that x’s on text messages is fucking stupid and she won’t do it at all. Apart from messages to Liza because she’s the kind of person that like puts 50 x’s. So Audrey sends like three back. 
Thomas has a collection of old coins that he brags about? Like why? I do not know. But he fucking is so proud of his collection omg he will tell you about it for hours. 
Low key headcanon Thomas has Asperger’s and is really quiet about it but when Audrey Rose finds out shes like doesn’t understand because he would? And like she does loads of research into Autism and Asperger’s and like they are big advocates for making life easier and more accessible for people on the spectrum. 
23 notes · View notes
mentallyinwalmart · 6 years
Text
‘Locked Out’ pt.2
Some Cressworth NSFW, a follow up to my last fic, ‘locked out’ which is a modern au
“I’m alright with as much, or as little as you want.” He says, running his thumb over my knuckles. The pads of his fingers are blessedly soft and a shiver runs through me as he touches me.
“In that case,” I say, leaning back in, “You ought to just kiss me Cresswell.”
The words have barely left my lips before he has his arms around me and pulls me in to a kiss. It starts off hesitant, both of us exploring each other’s mouths hesitantly. Soon, we have a steady rhythm and I part my lips, allowing him to slip his tongue into my mouth. But quickly, even that is not enough, and my body craves more.
I slide off the couch, not breaking our kiss and slowly crawl into the chair with him, wrapping my legs around his waist as I settle onto his lap. He moves his hands from my hands up and into my damp hair, twisting my curls in his fingers. He bites my lip as I fumble with the hem of his shirt and I moan. Spurred on by my outburst, he begins to drop kisses on my jaw, then down to my neck. When he gets to the hollow between my clavicle and my neck he drops a deeper kiss, his lips sucking as he runs his tongue over my skin. I moan again, the heat in my core increasing.
I can no longer restrain myself, and pull at his shirt, demanding it be removed. He obliges me, and pulls away from that sensitive area to pull it over his head and toss it to the side. I run my hands over his abdomen, letting my fingers trace the strong lines of his muscles. As I explore his chest, he lets his hands settle on my backside, cupping my ass with his large hands. I feel myself growing wetter in my shorts.
Now it is my turn to spread my kisses. I run a finger tip over his perfect jawline, following it up quickly with a barrage of pecks, my lips fluttering across his skin. A feeling of accomplishment settles over me as his grip on my ass tightens and I feel him growing hard beneath me.
“Audrey--” He moans slightly as I kiss down his neck, taking my time on each and every place my lips come to rest, hands fumbling with the ties of his pajama pants.
I slip out of his grip, him moaning slightly in protest as I drop to my knees before the chair, pawing at his pants, stroking his cock through the fabric. He groans and slips his pants over his waist, his member springing free and to full it’s height before me. I shiver slightly as he kicks off his pants. He is much larger than Will. But my nerves are largely outweighed by excitement as I run my fingers across the shaft, watching his writhe at my very touch. I gently lean forward and plant a kiss right on the head, enjoying the shudder that wrakes through his body.
“Don’t tease me, Audrey Rose.” He says through gritted teeth.
I look up at him, batting my eyelashes as I continue to gently trace strokes across his cock.
“Whatever do you mean?” I ask innocently, cocking my head to one side.
“Audrey Rose,” He says again, the need in his voice causing what feels like a tidal wave of arousal between my thighs.
I offer him a wicked grin before going down on him in earnest, taking nearly all of him in my mouth, and pushing it in further until my nose bumps the toned muscle just above his member. I was blessed with the lack of a gag reflex, and it has proved very popular in the past. I flick my eyes up to Thomas’ face above me, and from the way his eyes are rolled back in his head and his fists are clenched, it would appear he shares that opinion.
I continue my strokes, licking down to the tip, swirling my tongue across the head, then once again taking all of him back into my mouth. His breathing becomes laboured and his hands becomes tangled in my hair, guiding my strokes. Just as I feel the first drip of him, I pull away completely, sitting back on the floor as I look up at him.
“Audrey Rose,” he growls, “why must you continue to tease.”
I raise my eyebrows,
“I like having you under my thumb.” I say, examining my nails and looking away from his earnest expression.
But to my surprise, he catches my chin between his thumb and index finger.
“Has anyone ever told you you are a naughty, naughty girl Audrey Rose?”
If it was possible, I feel the heat in my core intensify. Will never got my hints. I push all thoughts of him from my mind, meeting Thomas’ gaze.
“What are you going to do about it?” I ask, a wicked grin playing at my lips as I meet the fire in his eyes with some of my own.
“Well,” he says, leaning closer so once again our faces are just inches apart, “if you aren’t inclined to finish what you started, I might have to punish you.”
A shive wracks my entire body, and I look at Thomas Cresswell now, with more longing, more desperate need than I ever had for Will in the two years we were together. I cock an eyebrow, heat pooling in my center as I rest my chin on his bare knee.
“I wouldn’t be opposed.” I say, blowing a breath of cool air directly towards him, watching his cock twitch with glee. He groans and I grin lazily. “Give me your best shot.”
And suddenly, he is standing, pulling me to my feet before he lifts me as if I weigh nothing and tosses me over his muscled shoulder. I shriek as he does so, kicking my legs slightly as he adjusts his grip on the back of my knees.
“Do you want to wake Mrs Harvey with all this racket?” He asks, swatting my backside with his hand.
The impact triggers a noise that comes out as a sort of half moan, half squeal. I gasp as he smacks me again, running my nails across his back, this time exclusively moaning in response to his action.
“Thomas.” I groan as he leans forward and gently deposits me before him on the bed, before taking a seat at my side.
“Did you enjoy that?” He asked, eyebrows raised incredulously.
I nod, cheeks flushing with heat as I run my hand over his bare leg.
“God that’s hot.” He mutters, “Can I-- can I do it some more?”
I grin at him as we both drop the facades we were putting up and nod.
“If you ever want me to stop, just tell me.” He says, gently running a finger along my thigh, sending a shiver up my back.
I feel like I could melt on the spot. True enough, I hadn’t been on a hookup in ages, but in my memory they were usually a lot less… respectful. I grinned at Thomas as I sat up on the bed, getting on all fours and crawling over his lap, laying myself across his knees, his cock pressed tauntingly close to my entrance.
I tremble in anticipation as he pushes my shirt up my back, revealing my silk shorts. He runs a hand across the waistband before pushing them down to my ankles. Cool air hits my backside, and I groan slightly as he traces lazy circles across my exposed ass.
The smack of his hand on my rear causes me to gasp, my lips forming an ‘o’ as he kneads the skin he had just struck between his palm and fingers. He strikes me a few more times, taking the same time to rub my tender skin after the fact. If it is even possible, I think his cock grows harder beneath me.
I slowly lift a hand to his knees, working it under myself until I am able to gently stroke his cock while he continues to rain down blows to my backside. Though it hurts, it is a pleasurable kind of pain, and the sound of hand on flesh, paired with his groans as I tease his cock are enough to undo me on the spot. I lower my hand away from his cock and to my own soaking entrance. But just as I am about to guide myself to release, he takes ahold of my wrist.
“Not yet.” He says, giving my butt one final smack before pulling me to my feet so I am standing before him, the long tee still on.
I move to pull the shirt off, but once again he takes ahold of my hands, gentler this time.
“Let me.” He says, releasing my hands to take hold of the hem of my-- his shirt.
Teasingly slow, he pulls it up and over my head, taking in my body with his piercing eyes. His gaze lingers on my nipples, reaching out to palm one of my breasts before continuing his inspection. I lean into his grip, sitting down on his leg and grinding my sex against his kneecap. He moans as, for the first time, he feels how wet I am.
His lips crash back into mine, and I run my fingers through his glorious hair as he stands to meet me, tucking me in close to him. He guides us across the room together, towards the desk. I wonder what this might be-- But before I can venture a guess as to what the desk had to do with our foreplay, he reached into the desk drawer and produced a condom. He opens it, pulling away from me as he readies himself to put it on, but I take it from his hands.
“Let me.” I say, taking the condom from his hands and gently placing it onto the tip of his cock before slipping my lips back over him and pushing it all the way to the base of his shaft.
He shudders,
“Now that’s what I call a party trick.” He groans as I get back to my feet. I can’t help but laugh, and for a moment the two of us just stay like that, laughing in eachothers arms.
But the heat within me will not be so easily extinguished, and I pull him back into me, kissing him deeply as I wrap my arms around his neck. His kiss is just as wanting, and he pushes me against the wall beside the desk, his hardness pressing into my abdomen as he leans in closer and closer to me.  I moan and wrap my legs around his waist, kissing him intensely as he moves his hands under my rear to keep me in my precarious position.
“Are you ready?” He asks huskily, “Remember you can still say no.” Despite the want in his voice, the look in his eyes makes it clear he is serious.
But I nod, lowering one hand from around his neck to take ahold of his cock and align it with my entrance.
“I want this.” I breathe, returning my hand to his face, tracing the outline of his jaw, and up his cheekbones.
That is all he needs, and in a moment he is pressing himself deep into me, seeming to complete me as he fills me. I moan loudly as he slides out only to pound back into me, harder and faster than before.
“Oh god, Thomas, that’s perfect.”
He moans as I dig my nails into his back, pounding into me harder and faster. My breasts bounce wildly with each thrust that pushes me against the cool wall. He moves one of his hands from my backside to where he is pushing into me so forcefully, quickly finding the ball of nerves just above my entrance, and rolling it between his finger and thumb. I moan again, coming dangerously close to falling over the edge as he rubs eager circles into me.
“Thomas I’m--”
But I can’t even get all the words out before he sends me crashing over the edge. He thrusts harder and rubs faster circles into my clit, extending the waves of pleasure that are crashing against me. He lets out a groan of his own just as I am beginning to come down, and finishes with my name on his lips.
My knees wobble as he gently pulls out of me and I return my legs to the floor below me. He pulls off the condom, throwing it away before he scoops me up in his arms and collapses into bed, me at his side. He pulls the blankets around us as I study his face, his brow slick with perspiration, his muscles relaxed. I gently brush a piece of hair from his eyes and he smiles at me, kissing my palm as I run my hand across his face.
“That was, incredible.” I breathe, running my hands over his body, relishing in the ecstasy of my orgasm still fresh in my mind.
“Sex as good as you hoped?” He asks, raising an eyebrow coyly.
I smack his arm, but after a long moment I nod.
“Better, actually.”
After a little more banter, we fall asleep tangled in each other’s limbs.
--
I wake the next morning to light pouring in from the window above the bed, and Thomas’ face between my thighs, his tongue stirring up the same storm that had ripped through my body last night. Guess that wasn’t a dream. I moan softly, and he looks up from where he is busy at work, meeting my eyes with a wicked gleam in his. He inserts two fingers into my wet entrance, focussing his mouth’s attention on my throbbing clitoris. I moan louder, grinding my sex into his fingers and mouth, one of my hands entwining in his hair.
“Thomas” I breathe, my last words of the night also being my first words of the morning. “Thomas I’m so close.”
But just as I say it, he pulls away, grinning wickedly as I whimper in protest.
“See how it feels?” He says, grabbing my hands before I am able to finish myself. He pins them above my head.
I squirm, but to no avail. He kisses me, and I nip at his lip in protest. He only laughs.
“What say you bust out that party trick from last night and we finish together?” He asks, flicking my nipple with his free hand.
I nod eagerly, and rise to my knees as he strides across the room to pull another condom out of the drawer. He throws the wrapper in the garbage before offering it to me. I take it, and perform the same stunt I had the night before, only this time, going slowly, gauging his reaction.
But the moment my lips leave him, he pushes me back on the bed,
“Where were we?” He murmurs huskily, gripping my wrists in one hand as he pins the back above my head.
He positions himself at my entrance, but not before asking once again, if I am okay with this. I give him a resounding yes, and all but demand for him to fill me this instant.
If possible, it feels even better than the previous night, the tenderness of my loins still fresh as he sheaths himself within me. I move with him, the two of us establishing a steady rhythm. As he gets closer to his end, he begins once again to make those slow circles around my clitoris with his fingers, pulling me to the edge with him. We finish together.
--
He makes tea for me after, bringing it to where I am basking in the sun on his bed.
“Now, not to be a cliche and kick you out,” he says, “but my sister is about to come over. So if you want to stay, that’s absolutely cool, just maybe get dressed.”
He grins and I shake my head, grabbing his shirt from the floor and slipping it over my head.
“I’ll head out.” I say, “But, this time you have to call me.” I scrawl my number on a piece of scrap paper on his desk, “Because I can dish out the ghosting, but I absolutely can’t take it.”
He laughs and shakes his head, ruffling his hair with his hand.
“I mean, I’m going to have to call you just so I can get my stuff back.” He gestures to the t-shirt I'm wearing, and I wrap my arms across my chest with a grin.
“Exactly. Or, if you just wanted to stop by and get it tonight, my door is always open.”
Suddenly I realize why I had spent the night here to begin with and smack my palm to my forehead. But before I can speak, he tosses a piece of glinting metal through the air and I catch it on instinct.
“How did you get my key?” I ask.
“We all have our tricks.” He says, shrugging.
Deciding I most likely won’t get any answers out of him, I concede and turn away from him, moving towards the door.
“Goodbye Audrey Rose.”
I smile as I cross the hallway in nothing but his shirt, quickly keying into my room and tossing my stuff onto the couch before walking towards my room.
My phone buzzes in my hand and I look down.
‘New Message from Thomas’ It reads. I shake my head as I glance over the message. ‘You looked a little sore when I saw you in the hall. Looks like someone got lucky last night.’
I can’t fight the smile that spreads across my face as I fall back into my own bed, drifting off into a mid-morning nap.
--
Aaaaaa thank you for reading :) Hope you guys enjoyed, and let me know if you like this AU set. 
xx
tag list: @city-of-fae @schmlip-scribble @nish247 
49 notes · View notes
mentallyinwalmart · 6 years
Text
Cressworth Modern Au- Dear Liza
I have a HC that even in a modern setting, Audrey Rose would still write letters to Liza when she was at Uni. Here are some of those letters throughout the first term of school~
Dear Liza,
Well the first week at Uni has been an absolute whirlwind. I miss father and uncle dearly (not to mention you of course). But I have made lots of new friends. You would love my roomate, Ileana. Noah from my anatomy class, and Anna from psychology are really cool too, and I feel lucky to have met such great people so early on. Noah and Anna are in my major study group, along with some stuck up bloke called Andrei and a few other people I don’t really know. It is a good group, all of us are very determined (though it is only the first week).
I have to tell you, Liza, the absolute funniest thing happened at orientation over the weekend. You remember Uncle’s summer intern? For the life of me I can’t remember his name, but, well he tripped coming down the steps to come over and greet uncle and I. I swear to you Liza, I almost died trying not to laugh out loud. Uncle says he is very bright, and that I will probably run into him at some point this term, seeing as he is in my same major, but so far, he seems to have disappeared. I spaced on asking uncle for his name, so it would seem perhaps I won’t encounter him again.
I am going to a party tonight, and I’m wearing that dress you made for me before I left. Ileana says I look ravishing, so cheers to you!
But enough about me, how is the school of design? How are your classes and flatmates? I want to know everything.
Love always,
Audrey Rose
--
Dear Audrey Rose,
The school of design is amazing! Paris is beautiful, and my flatmates are absolutely incredible! You must visit, because you would just die for the culture here. It is so different than home, even if it is just a train ride away.
Anna and Ileana sound just lovely. I think you’d get along swimmingly with my favorite flatmate Daciana. She has the most iconic grunge/vampy look, and it perfectly compliments my summer child vibe. We lovingly refer to one another as our “other halves”. I am dying for you to meet her. And perhaps one day soon you might! She has a brother who actually is enrolled at your school! I’ll be sure to ask if he’s the annoying Andrei. How funny would that be!
But anyway, Daci wants to take the train down to London to visit him in a few weeks time and unless something major happens between us in that time, I’m going to accompany her! It will be so wonderful, cousin!
But now that all that about me is out of the way, let’s talk about your encounter with Uncle’s (super hot) summer apprentice. WHAT LUCK AUDREY ROSE!!! I vividly remember the time the two of you met briefly, and how flustered you were when he walked away. Deny it all you want, but I know you were smitten.
If you see him again, I insist, for the sake of my romantic soul, that you speak to him, instead of laughing at him.
Love you, see you soon,
Liza
Ps- his name is Thomas you absolute fool
--
Dear Liza,
Before I get to my questions about Daci, and about the new aesthetic you’ve seemingly assigned yourself in the few short weeks we’ve been apart, I want to address how ridiculous your claims are.
I have zero feelings for Thomas. Except perhaps feelings of annoyance. True, I found him quite attractive when we met last summer, but i find plenty of people attractive without being “smitten” as you so foolishly put it.
And even if I had been over the summer (which I was not), it is surely gone after working with him this last week. Thomas was a surprise addition to my study group starting at the beginning of this week, and he has proven himself to be most insufferable.
Who has to be right all the time?
And dear Liza, I do not mean “stick to their guns even when they’re wrong” right, I mean, actually, genuinely correct, every damn time. It’s positively infuriating!
Now that we’ve established that the only thing I want between me and Thomas is a brick wall, tell me about your “summer child” aesthetic. Last time I saw you, you were neck deep in prep chic. What has changed?
Daci sounds positively lovely, and I cannot wait to meet her and to see you both.
Anna and I went on this unbelievable night hike last weekend, we went through the forest to the old ruins atop the hill. I’ll have to take you when you come to visit.
Ileana has a friend that goes to your school! She wouldn’t give me a name, saying since it’s such a small school she worries you’d know her, and is keeping her past girlfriends a secret from me ://
Hopefully someday soon I’ll get it out of her. It sounds like she was something special.
Love you, and I excitedly await your visit.
Audrey Rose
--
Dear Audrey Rose,
First off, I am, and have always been, a summer child. It’s too grey in London for me to fully unleash it. But now here, in Paris, it is lively and warm enough for me to embrace who I really am. You just like to imagine I was a prep because your taste is not nearly refined enough to understand my unique look. (Love you cousin, even if you have the fashion sense of an old woman ;) )
I can’t believe I not only go to school with Ileana’s ex, but also the sister of someone at your school! It’s fate! I’m not sure yet if what kind, but it’s something.
As for Thomas, he sounds infuriating. But then again, isn’t “hot-but-annoying” exactly the criteria for a hate sex partner? I’m just saying, maybe it’s time to ditch the sweaters for something a little more showy and get yourself some action ;)
Love you, please don’t disown me for my foul mouth.
Kisses,
Liza
--
Dear Liza,
I made the mistake of reading this in the mail room right after I opened my post box.
And who should I smack right into as my face was burning so hot I was worried my blood may boil?
Thomas.
Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was?!
Not that I care what he thinks of me, I would’ve been embarrassed if I’d run into anyone like that.
He asked what I was reading, and because I’m bad at making up lies, I panicked and just mumbled something about having to go.
He had the most infuriating smirk, I swear his already full lips probably doubled in size.
What an absolute buffoon.
Later that night I found him sitting in the (usually vacant) seat besides me in forensics. It’s such a big lecture, I didn’t even know he was in the class. I wasn’t about to ask him to move, even I’m not that harsh. He spent most of the class doodling around the edge of his notebook (he was the only one in the whole lecture who didn’t have a laptop) and yet somehow, he always had the best theories.
Though I don’t like him, I plan to glean everything I can from having him as a new seat mate. He is quite intelligent, but more than that he can insert himself into the situations. It’s fascinating the way his mind works, I intend to steal that trait from him.
As for trading in my sweaters? I will never. They are my truest love. And as for hate sex? Absolutely not. I’m not letting someone I hate be my first time.
Love, your fashion forward cousin,
Audrey Rose
--
My Dearest (fashionably challenged) cousin,
So what you’re saying, is if it wasn’t your first time, you would take the handsome Thomas straight to bed? You little slut.
Daci and I have set a date for our trip. It is to be two weeks from tomorrow, for neither of us have classes on fridays. We will take the evening train, and be with you by midnight!
Her brother is to pick us up from the station in his car, and drive us to your school. I can’t wait to see you!!!
My whole heart is bursting at the thought (just as yours is bursting with loooooove for Thomas)
Seriously Audrey Rose, no one can write that much about someone they “hate so much”.
I know just how frank you can be, and if you truly disliked him as much as you say, you’d have told him to move, or simply say somewhere else.
That and you wouldn’t have gone into such detail about how intelligent he is and how much you think you can learn from him (not to mention how full his lips are!!).
Stop denying it, and just embrace the fact that you are not only attracted to his face, but his intellect.
Can’t wait to tease you about it in person,
Liza
--
Dear Liza,
You’re wrong.
Enough about Thomas (though he did bring me a cup of tea to forensics lecture last night when I mentioned earlier that afternoon at study group how tired I was, and how I didn’t have a break until after our night lecture).
I don’t know why I felt compelled to tell you that, maybe just to do him the justice of demonstrating maybe he isn’t all bad.
But still, besides that courtesy he remains an annoyance.
I cannot wait to see you. Ileana and I have found the most wonderful little pub with this incredible live band. They’re from America, and they play this music called “surfer punk”. It is, the strangest thing, but I think you will love them. And if what you’ve said about Daci is true, she will too.
Oh, and speaking of women at your school, Ileana’s ex is apparently “the one who got away”. She told me and Anna the other night when we were all hanging out together in our room. How they only broke up because they were going to different schools. It was the saddest story.
Please don’t stop being my best friend just because you are a Parisian fashion queen surrounded by other Parisian fashion queens.
Love, your bff,
Audrey Rose
--
Dear Audrey Rose,
First of all, unless someone at school with me here can become better than you, they will never replace you as my best friend/future maid of honor. And spoiler alert, they won’t.
Daci is wonderful, but she will never replace you, no matter how alike we are, you complete me as my polar opposite in some aspects, and yet my mirror image in others.
Wow that was pretty, maybe I ought to be a creative writing major.
In regards to your little Thomas situation, i have been teasing you mercilessly, but in all honesty, that tea thing was very sweet. I think he may have a thing for you too. (Even if it’s just a “id smash if given the opportunity” kinda deal)
This feels like it’s going somewhere, I am thrilled to be experiencing this iconic love story second hand.
your bff,
Liza
Ps- if you get to insist Daci and my other fashion friends don’t replace you than I must insist that Anna and Ileana never replace me in your heart. If I find out you confess your feelings about Thomas to them before me, I will be infuriated. (That is mostly a joke, but in every joke there is a little bit of truth.)
Love youuuuu,
Liza
--
Dear Liza,
Of course no one will ever replace you. You’re stuck having me as a best friend forever.
Now that we’re done with that nonsense, I have so much to fill you in on.
We just got slapped with this massive midterm project that is due the day you leave, so naturally I am going to try and get it done before you come. I assumed I was working alone because Thomas didn’t bother asking if I might want to work with him, and I don’t know anyone else in that class. But two days ago, there comes a knock on my door. Naturally, I assumed it was Anna or that Illy had forgotten her keys, so I opened the door.
And who should be leaned against the door frame? You guessed it Liza, Thomas. He handed me a to go cup of Earl Grey and then strode right in like he owned the place.
“Messier than I expected.” was all he said before settling himself at my desk, spreading his notes across my own and launching into his take on the case.
He can be quite captivating when he puts his mind to it, and despite wanting to tell him off for barging in, the longer he talked, the more clear it became that our talents would go better together, and the only way I could get this project done on time would be if we worked together.
So I let him stay, and we have spent the last two days together working day and night trying to finish this. It seems to be driving him mad that he can’t crack it as easily as he can most things in that class. I think that must be what is suddenly making him more tolerable.
Only eight days til I see you, dear cousin. Love always,
Audrey Rose
--
Audrey Rose!!!
You are so smitten!!! When I tell you I canNOT!!! Don’t even try to deny it Audrey Rose!
I have, of course, been keeping Daci in the loop about you and Thomas’ whole “will they or won’t they” scene and she agrees with me that if his actions before hadn’t made it clear he was into you, what he pulled when he came to your room absolutely is. She says you should just make a move, and while I absolutely agree, I told her I bet you wouldn’t because that isn’t very you.
Prove us both wrong?
But even if nothing else comes of it, at least you will (hopefully) get everything done before I get in this weekend! I want every moment with you I can get! Daci and I have the whole thing planned out (of course your American band has made the schedule, Daci is very excited), you, me, her and her brother are going to be like a little posse this weekend, and it’s going to be amazing! And, if Thomas gets jealous you’re spending so much time with another man, you can just invite him. I don’t mind ;)
I’ll see you in six days Audrey!!!!
Love you to America and back,
Liza
--
Dear Liza,
I had not intended on writing you again before you visited, but a LOT happened tonight.
I penned this letter when I got back from Thomas’ room at three in the morning and honestly? The only reason I did was so that I wouldn’t think tonight’s events were some kind of strange fever dream.
We were in my room working on our midterm project to no avail, just as we have every night this week. It was infuriating. But then, suddenly I had this epiphany, and moved everything around, and it all made sense! I yanked Thomas over and I swear, he lit up like a firefly.
Before I knew what was happening, Liza, he had taken me in his arms and pressed his lips to mine. He tasted like chocolate, which mostly attribute to the mocha he’d been nursing all evening.It was the best kiss I have ever had, he put Will Blackburn from high school to shame, but he pulled away much too quickly.
His cheeks were flushed and his eyes had a mix of hunger and nerves. He opened his mouth, I can only assume to apologize, but before he could get a word out, my desire overcome me. I let my hands run through his curls as we kissed again, and as soon as it was clear I wanted it as much as he did, he was lifting me up and pressing me against the wall. My shirt was off faster than you can say “abracadabra” and his lips were making a sweet trail down my collar bone to my chest as I fumbled with the buttons on his shirt.
I had finally gotten his shirt off, and was running my hands over his abs, my legs wrapped around his waist as he left little love bites on my collar bones and upper chest until suddenly, I heard Illy’s voice outside and her key jingling in the door.
And then, the fire in my core was replaced with icy panic. Luckily, Thomas managed to get into the bathroom before she came in, and I managed to pull my shirt back on before Illy got in the door. I explained as casually as I could that Thomas was on his way out, he had just needed to use the bathroom.
When he reentered the room a few moments later, I was so worried he would give us away, but he looked perfectly put together. BUT LIZA THIS IS WHERE THINGS TRULY GOT INSANE!
HE GREETED ILLY LIKE AN OLD FRIEND!!!
Because apparently?? Thomas’ sister is Illy’s ex, and none other than Daciana Cresswell, your mother fucking roomate.
When I tell you I was floored Liza, I mean it.
Then this boy had the audacity to leave like nothing had happened. But at this point, I had nothing to lose, so after a few moments sorting through details and getting caught up with Ileana, I went up to his room to confront him.
He explained he had put it together when he saw me and Uncle because his sister had been telling him about you, her flatmate named Eliza Wadsworth.
You’d think I would be more upset that he had kept me in the dark, wouldn’t you? But surprisingly, I was not. I guess you were right, Liza. I think I have been smitten since he first stumbled down the steps at orientation.
He seemed nervous I would be angry he had held out on me, but when I told him I wasn’t, it’s like he let down a facade and suddenly he was a whole new person. Unfortunately there wasn’t much fooling around after that (besides the considerable ass grabbing that came with my kiss goodnight) because we both agreed finishing the midterm to be most important that way we can spend the most time with you guys this weekend.
He walked me back to my room despite me insisting he didn’t have to, and taunted me with another kiss, and the promise of taking me on a real date tomorrow night, ‘in the time we would have spent on the project you so brilliantly solved tonight’.
I cannot wait to see you, dearest cousin.
Love,
Audrey Rose Wadsworth
Ps- I will be with Thomas when he picks you up on Thursday night :)
~~~~~
Hope you all enjoyed! This is probably my favorite fic I have ever written!!!! I have decided it is going to inspire a tiny mini series of fic’s, so there will be at least two more coming 
Thanks, as always, for reading, and let me know if you want to be tagged as I post the next ones in this series
xx
42 notes · View notes
mentallyinwalmart · 6 years
Text
‘Locked Out’
A follow up to my Cressworth modern AU, ‘Neighbors’  that takes place two weeks after.*
*can also be read as a stand-alone
I hit the buzzer again and again, at this point not caring if he came down here mad as hell. But as the moments ticked by and I remained alone on the front stoop it became clear that the super was not home. 
I looked down at my phone. Two forty am. Three percent battery. I didn't even have the juice to call Liza if I wanted to. Which I don’t. She lived all the way across town, and I don’t have the money to Uber over there. If she’s even home one a Friday night. I sigh as I run my finger absentmindedly over the name across from my own on the buzzer board. 
Thomas J Cresswell 
It is written in slanted cursive, and I feel a slight shiver as I ponder pushing the little black button beside it. But I see a car driving slowly down the street, and the hammering in my chest makes the choice for me. I push the button and hold for a beat, praying he is upstairs. 
I stand on the stoop, shifting as I watch the car out of the corner of my eye, my heart racing until finally at passes me. I let loose a sigh. But my relief is cut short as the intercom crackles and I hear Thomas’ voice. 
“Who is it?” It sounds as if I woke him.
“It’s Audrey Rose.” I say, and there is a long beat of silence, “I--I’m sorry,” sorry I didn’t call, “sorry to wake you but I’m locked out of the building and my phone is about to die.” I twist at the strap of my book bag as I wait for him to say something, anything.
But the only sound remains the faint crackle of the intercom, and I worry he may leave me here, on the stoop of our building. But just as I am about to give up and succumb to the dread growing in my chest, the door buzzes and the lock clicks open. 
I push the button on my end,
“Thank you so much.” 
“Mhm.” Comes the faint response as I quickly enter the building. 
The elevator ride feels longer than normal, but I relish in the solitude of the warmly lit room and the gentle whirring of the mechanisms. I search through my shoulder bag for the millionth time but still can’t find my keys. 
I know they aren’t in there. I can picture them tucked in the pocket of the denim jacket I had abandoned in favor of my wool cardigan this morning. I remember surveying my appearance in the mirror and deciding that my cream sweater would go better with the yellow shift dress and charcoal flats I was wearing then the tight denim jacket. 
I had fully intended on tucking them into my purse, but then Will had called. For the thousandth time. I had answered, told him to stop calling, then slammed the door in my anger. It wasn’t until I was halfway to my six pm lecture that I'd realized I had forgotten my keys. 
The elevator doors open and I exit on instinct, still lost in thought. But before I can decide whether to knock on Mrs Harvey’s door or perhaps just sleep on the roof, it isn’t too cold, I come to a halt as Thomas is standing in the hall.
I take in his tousled hair, the same faded pajama pants as the night we had dinner together, this time paired with a different band tee. I don’t know what to say, so I mumbled the only thing I can think of,
“Thank you. I’m sorry I woke you up.”
We stand in silence for a long beat, him taking in my sundress and thin cardigan and my book bag. His eyes trace across my face and I feel his stare linger on the bags under my eyes and the frizzy ponytail my curls are pulled into. I feel my cheeks flush slightly and I shift my gaze to the floor, wishing he would stop staring at me like that. 
“Do you have somewhere to sleep?” 
His words shock me and I raise my eyes back up to meet his gaze. I open my mouth but no words come out so I shake my head. 
“Come inside.” He says, pushing his door open behind him. 
Some semblance of logic tugs at the back of my mind, but the look in his eyes and the conversations we had shared two weeks ago made me confident that I had nothing to fear from him. And so, despite what my brain was whispering, I trust my instincts and walked in. He follows behind me, closing the door quietly. 
The first greeting I get is the scent of elderberry and pine. I take in the unit, identical to my own in architecture and size, but completely different in decoration. While my own apartment is all string lights and succulents, everything placed just-so, this place feels authentic, and well lived in. Books and papers are spread across the bar counter as well as the coffee table in the living room. There are stray jackets hung on door knobs, a throw blanket strewn across the couch, and two large candles lit on the window sill. 
Though the place is slightly disorganized, it feels cozy and welcoming, as though it will not judge me for arriving with nothing but a dead laptop, a practically dead cell phone, and a bag of books, note and regular. 
“Did you want a phone charger?” Thomas’ voice once again pierces the cloud of my thoughts and I turn my gaze to see he is walking towards the room I can only assume to be the bedroom. 
“I don’t want to put you out--” I start, but he waves his hand. 
“Don’t worry, I’ve got an extra one.” He says, and exits the room with an iPhone charger in his hands. 
He extends it to me, and I smile, hanging my book bag on the hook by the door before crossing the outlet I know to be on the far wall by the windowsill. I plug in my phone and set it on the sill before turning back to see him entering the bathroom. 
“I’ll pull out towels for a shower.” He calls over his shoulder. 
“Really Thomas, I’m alright.” I say, even though a shower does sound heavenly. 
“I insist.” He calls, and I shift awkwardly on my heels, “It’ll give me time to make up a bed on the couch for you.” 
I bite my lip as I make my way over to the bathroom, unable to stop the flushing of my cheeks and the smile that plays at my lips in response to his kindness. 
“Thank you.” I say, and he nods as he offers me two fluffy white towels. 
“These got cleaned yesterday.” He says and I smile. “Holler if you need anything.” 
He leaves the room, closing the door behind him. The layout of his bathroom is identical to my own. The toilet and sink in the first section, then another door that leads to the small room with the shower and bath tub. I enter the second chamber and close and lock the door. I flip the switch for the fan on as I hang the towels on the racks next to the door. 
I turn the water on, testing it with my hand until I find a good temperature. Then I tug off my clothes, leaving them in a heap in the corner of the room before getting into the warm shower. I let the water run over my body as I look through the soaps and shampoos Thomas has in his shower. 
It feels like almost an invasion of privacy to use his shampoo or conditioner, so I opt to suds up the washcloth he had given me with the bar of soap and wash my body using that, simply content to rinse my hair, deciding to wash it with my own supplies when I got home tomorrow. His soap smells like a forrest, but also faintly like flowers. I enjoy the odor that fills the room as wash my body. 
After a few moments, I finish rinsing and turn off the shower, stepping out onto the mat, using one towel to wrap my body and the other to twist my hair into. I step back into the shower to open the window to let some of the moisture escape. 
I leave the shower room and enter the other part of the bathroom, midway through deciding what to do with my clothing. But as I set my wad of dirty clothes on the counter I notice that folded in a neat pile on the corner of the counter closest to the door is a pair of flannel pajama pants and a grey t-shirt. There is a sticky note atop the pile that says ‘these are clean as well, if you want them.’
Before I can convince myself otherwise, I pull on the large t-shirt. It goes down to my mid thighs and I run a gentle finger across the hem. I look at the pants but they are hopelessly giant, and I know there’s no chance they won’t fall off the moment I move too quickly. So I opt for the large shirt and the tight silky shorts I had been wearing under my dress. I slip them on, but you cannot even see them under the shirt. I smile at my reflection before hanging both towels on the bars in the shower room and tucking my clothing under my arm. 
With a deep breath, I reenter Thomas’ apartment. I can hear him in the kitchen, and I pad down the hall, my feet warm against the cool hardwood floors. I make it to the living room/kitchen area and take in the bed he made on the couch as promised before moving to shove my clothes from the day into my book bag before turning back to the kitchen.
Thomas is flushed from his cheeks all the way up to his ears, looking as red as the candles on the window sill. I find myself flushing under his gaze as he takes in the shirt I’m wearing, his shirt, his gaze slowly drifting down my bare legs. I bite my lip before walking towards the bar and taking a seat on one of the stools. 
“Is that for me?” I ask, pointing to one of the two cups of tea he had abandoned half way through making in favor of watching me move about the apartment.
The trance was broken and he gulped, then nodded, adding a dollop of honey into both cups before handing one to me across the counter. I take it and nod thankfully before drinking. His cheeks fade back to a semi normal color, and he walks around the bar to the arm chair in the living room. 
We sit in an extended silence, the two of us taking the time to drink deeply and steal looks at each other. Finally, when I fear I may burst from the tension I speak. 
“What does the J stand for?” Really, Audrey? That’s what you came up with? 
He raises an eyebrow and I gesture towards the door, 
“The J between ‘Thomas’ and ‘Cresswell’.” 
He nods, and a lazy grin spreads across his features.
“James.” He says.
Thomas James Cresswell I let the name roll over in my mind. It flows nicely and I smile back at him. We once again fall into silence. Silence I am not inclined to break for fear I will say something even more ridiculous. And so I nurse my tea in silence until there is nothing left. 
It would appear he finished at a similar time because after one final moment he moved to stand up.
“I think I’m going to turn in. Goodnight Audrey Rose, let me know if you need anything.” He bows his head slightly as he sets the teacup on the coffee table. 
But before he can get up I stand, setting my cup on the counter with a clink. 
“Wait,” I say, and he pauses, “Don’t you want to know why I never called?”
I see him set his jaw, his nostrils flaring ever so slightly,
“I don’t know.” He says honestly, On the one hand, I really do. But at the same time, if you’re going to reject me again I’d prefer we just leave it at you not calling.” The pang of genuine disappointment makes my heart sink and I settle on the couch  beside his chair, biting my lip as I fiddle with the hem of his shirt. 
“That’s not it.” I say, “I have felt bad about it every day, but with each day that passed I felt like it would become weirder and weirder to have called after, well, not having called for so many days.” I look back at him and find him staring intently at me. 
“I’ve had this boyfriend,” I started, “for the last two years. We met in our undergrad program, and he moved here because I got into the grad program.” I paused, “I told him not to, but he did.” I turn my gaze to the floor, “Soon after I started school we began to have problems. He was angry I didn’t have as much time for him as I used to. I realized he didn’t make me happy anymore, and I ended it.”
I look up to see Thomas has also diverted his gaze from mine. 
“That was a week before you moved in.” I say, continuing to fumble with the shirt hem, “And I knew, when you gave me your number, that I wasn’t ready for anything.” I pause, meeting his eyes finally, “Plus Will was still constantly popping by to try and get me back even though I keep telling him I am uninterested,” I pause, biting my lip before continuing, “and I knew that no matter how much I might be interested in using you for rebound sex,” 
His breathe catches in his throat and he coughs, reaching for a bottle of water on the table and I can’t help but laugh. After a moment of him collecting himself I grinned and continued,
“As much as I was attracted to you, and thought that hooking up with you might be fun, you seemed like someone I would genuinely enjoy hanging out with, even if it was just as a friend and I’d hate to ruin that by sleeping with you the first night you moved in.” 
The flush on his cheeks somehow makes me more confident and I meet his gaze as I continue.
“Plus Will can be truly awful and I didn’t want him having any kind of vendetta against you because of my selfishness.” I offer him a wry smile, “And I also thought your sister was your girlfriend until the whole spider thing happened.”
Now it is Thomas’ turn to laugh. After a moment, he settles down and looks to me. And after another long moment, I speak. 
“I’m normally not this open with people.” I say, biting my lip again, “But it is,” I look at the clock on the wall, “past three, and I am sleeping in your apartment, so I think this is already a relationship different then most of mine.” I smile at him, my confidence from a moment ago flickering. 
He leans back into his chair, scratching the nape of his neck with one hand as he raises an eyebrow at me before speaking,
“You seem pretty confident you could’ve gotten me into bed.” He says, narrowing his eyes. 
“Was I wrong, Cresswell?” I ask, leaning against the arm rest, twirling a piece of my hair through my fingers as I scoot slightly closer to him, not bothering to pull down the hem of the shirt that is slowly creeping up my thighs. 
His breath hitches in his throat, and his gaze travels from my lips down to my newly exposed thighs. 
“Fine alright you got me, it might not have been that hard.” 
He closes the distance between us in a heartbeat as he leans forward in his chair, elbows on knees, hand resting on his fist, his lips just inches from my own.
“I’ll tell you, Wadsworth, I think I would've preferred sleeping with you to thinking you were ghosting me.” he moves his mouth a hair closer so he is all but kissing me, “Even if you were just going to use me for my body.” 
“Perhaps,” I say, gaze focussed wholly on his lips, “if you had kissed me like I thought you were going to that night, things might have gone your way.” 
“A mistake I would greatly like to remedy, with your permission of course.” 
And then suddenly I realize I’m back in the same position I was in two weeks ago. I lean back slightly and he deflates as he also pulls away. 
“Thomas it’s not that I don’t want too. I do, trust me, I do.” I say, running my hand across his knee and up his thigh, “It’s just that I don’t want to give you the wrong idea.”
“I’m alright with as much, or as little as you want.” He says, running his thumb over my knuckles. The pads of his fingers are blessedly soft and a shiver runs through me as he touches me. 
“In that case,” I say, leaning back in, “You ought to just kiss me Cresswell.”
---
I hope you guys enjoyed!!! I plan to publish the smutty scene that comes directly after this as a separate post later tonight. Hope you guys enjoyed, let me know if you want to be tagged in the follow up!
xx
tags:
@city-of-fae @nish247 @schmlip-scribble
27 notes · View notes
mentallyinwalmart · 6 years
Text
‘life of the party’
A Cressworth St Patricks Day Fic. Follow up to ‘Locked Out’ and apart of my modern AU ‘Neighbors’.
I sit up in bed, wrapping a sheet around my chest as Thomas opens the window and let’s in the sound of the city.
It had been two weeks since our first hookup, and in the last fourteen nights, Thomas had spent eleven in my bed.
He claimed it was because he had earlier classes, so it was easier for him to slip out in the mornings, but I think it was because he was embarrassed of the constant state of mess that ruled his apartment.
Thomas crashes onto the bed beside me, dropping his head into my lap. He grins up at me, bare except for his pajama pants. He reaches up, and I smile, but then, he catches me off guard by pinching me.
“Ow, Thomas! What was that for?” I demand, smacking his hand away.
“You aren’t wearing green.” He gestures to his green striped pajama pants. “Happy St Patrick’s Day.” He presses a kiss to where he had pinched me before sitting up in bed.
“My eyes are green.” I fire back, leaning over to pinch his bicep.
“Doesn’t count, you aren’t wearing your eyes.” He pinches me back, softer and more playful this time. “At least I hope you never take them off.”
I shake my head and push him away. He grins and stands up, walking towards the kitchen. I hear him turn on the tap, fill something, then I hear the click of the electric kettle snapping on.
“Just make yourself at home why don’t you!” I yell down the hall.
A laugh comes from the kitchen and my skin tingles slightly. I curl my toes as a lazy smile spreads across my face.
He reenters a moment later holding a cup of black coffee and a cup of tea. He offers the tea to me before settling back into bed beside me.
“What’s got you so chipper?” He asks, a smile playing at his own lips.
“I’m just excited about the party.” I say, cocking my head as I smile up at him.
“Oh right about that. I won’t be able to make it to your party tonight.” He says, turning serious, “I’ve got a date.”
I feel my mouth drop open and move my lips, but no words come out. Thomas’ drops his facade and grins.
“I’m kidding, Wadsworth.” He says, “Though I am glad to see that you are glad I don’t have a date.”
“Date whoever you want.” I mumble, taking a deep sip from my teacup and praying the heat I feel rising to my cheeks isn’t noticeable.
“Well…” Thomas pauses, and I lift my gaze from the content of my cup to meet his soft eyes, “The only person I want to date is you.”
I choke on my tea. We haven’t had that conversation. True, I’ve thought about doing something more with him, something beyond enjoying his body, and the feelings it could inspire in mine.
But my fears overwhelm my desire, and I swallow the tea along with the lump in my throat.
“You should really get going.” I say, standing up, still holding the sheet around me, suddenly self concious of my nakedness. “I have a lot of prep for the party. Plus Liza will be here in less than two hours and I need to make myself, presentable.”
Where I would normally expect a quip about how good I looked in nothing but a sheet, Thomas was silent. He just nods, then pulls on his t shirt and silently leaves my room.
I hear him rattle with his keys before the door opens then shuts. I lean against the door frame, wishing we hadn’t left it that way. I grab my pajama shorts and slip them on, quickly grabbing a shirt off the top of my dresser. My heart sinks as I look at it.
It was the shirt Thomas had on the night of the spider incident. The night we had talked in his kitchen til the early hours of the morning.
I run my fingers across the soft fabric. Thomas likes to joke that everytime he managed to steal one of his shirt back, I took three more in its place.
I smile as I press the balled up shirt to my nose, hoping against hope it may still smell like his body wash, or his cologne. But it doesn’t. The only scent that clings to the shirt is oh my perfume, and faintly, our commingled sweat.
I set the shirt down on the bed, resolving to deal with that, and my feelings, later. I pull on a green tank top from my top drawer and walk to the kitchen, rinsing our cups and putting them in the dishwasher before turning on the oven and the crock pot. I pull some meat and butter from the refrigerator, setting a timer before I leave them to defrost on the counter.
I grab my phone and my Bluetooth speaker, checking my messages as I walk to the shower. A few texts from Liza, letting me know when she planned to come over to help me prep. But none from Thomas. I don’t even know if I want him to call me. I shrug it off and hop in the shower, humming along to the music as I clean myself, starting with my hair and working my way down.
When I get out I check my phone again:
No new messages.
I try to stop my heart from sinking at the thought of hearing nothing from Thomas. It hasn’t even been an hour since he left. I remind myself, wrapping my hair in a towel before slipping into my bathrobe.
A knock at my door pulls me from my haze of singing and baking in the kitchen and I dash across the room.
Thomas. I think as I open the door wide to reveal:
My cousin, dressed in a green pleated mini skirt and a black halter top. She grins, throwing her arms around me.
“Audreyyyy!!” She exclaims, squealing so loud I fear she may send Mrs Harvey’s cats into a frenzy.
“Liza!” I reply, letting her embrace me.
I tuck my head into her shoulder, but keep one eye focused on the door across the hall. Just open it just open it just open it. But alas, my begging does nothing but heighten the disappointment in the pit of my stomach as I close the door after Liza bounces in, two bags of decorations, and three bottles of whisky in her wake.
“Sooooo.” Liza says, “Do you think Will is going to show up tonight?”
My heart thuds as I stare blankly at her. Will, Christ I forgot about Will!
Liza looks at me, raising an eyebrow in skepticism,
“You know, Will, Will Blackburn,” she pauses, searching my eyes, discovering the secrets within them as only she can. “You’ve moved on.”
It’s not a question, but even so I nod.
Liza lets out a breathe, a sort of low whistle as she flops onto my couch.
“Is it your mystery hookup? Mr The Best Sex You’ve Ever Had?” She grins as I blush, burying my face in my hands.
“Yea.” I fess up, looking at her over the tips of my fingers. “But, well, I don’t know what’s going to happen now.”
“Why, what did you do?”
“Hey!” I protest, but she just gives me a knowing look and I sigh, “Yea okay it is my fault.”
I explain what had happened this morning, the coffee, the flutters in my chest, the sadness as the idea of him being with anyone but me, and then the way I had just completely shut down when he had all but asked me out.
Liza sits for a long moment, calculating it would seem, exactly how to get me out of this mess.
“Well what do you feel?” I had expected advice, some sage wisdom on how to get him to forgive me. But her question stumps me.
“I don’t know, Liza. It feels so soon! I mean, Will and I broke up three weeks ago, I’m worried I just miss dating, and that I may wake up one morning and realize that I feel nothing for him.” I pause, “Well besides ridiculous attraction.”
“You have chemistry, from what I hear,” She says, “you’re clearly compatible sexually, and it would seem emotionally.”
I raise an eyebrow as she continues,
“I mean come on Audrey. You spent hours together the night you first met. You were comfortable enough with him to sleep in his apartment that night you were locked out, and then, even though you barely knew him, you managed to tell him exactly what you wanted.”
“But that’s because I knew what I wanted!” I say, leaning forward to rest my chin in my hands.
Liza sighs.
“You don’t want him to date other girls Audrey, obviously that’s an indicator that, on some level, you want him to be with you.” She pauses, “Look, I’m not going to tell you how to play this. I know you’re just going to do what you want anyways, so I’m not gonna bother wasting my breathe.” She grins and I groan. “So think about it, I assume he’s coming to the party, so see how you feel when you interact with him in a non-bedroom setting.”
I smile and toss my arms around her. Despite the fact that I wish she could’ve just made all the choices for me, I love her for seeming to really get my feelings.
“Those feelings aren’t confined to the bedroom.” I give her a wicked grin and look between her and the couch she’s sitting on.
“Gross, Audrey.” She says, but I see her shift in her seat, as though she wants to touch the couch as little as possible. “Please tell me the kitchen is safe.”
I wink at her in response and she fakes a gagging sound.
We are just putting the finishing touches on the clover cookies when Liza finally dares to ask.
“This kitchen is so small, how did you even—”
I lean over the counter in response, it’s lip resting perfectly at my hips, the perfect height for Thomas to bend me over it and—
“God damnit Audrey Rose!” She says, smacking me with a dish towel, “you horny little slut.”
I giggle as I place the last cookie on the platter and survey the place.
It looks great, green table cloths spread across the counter and coffee table, shot glasses on beaded necklaces scattered throughout the room, the bottles of whisky on the counter, next to the plates of cookies, the bowl of chips, and the other entrees.
Liza moves across the room to adjust the hanging banner that boasts of the drinking to come.
“So,” she calls from across the room, “what are you wearing.”
I raise an eyebrow,
“This.” I say, gesturing to the green tank top and denim overall shorts I’m wearing.
But Liza just shakes her head.
“Absolutely not.” She says, grabbing me hand and dragging me to the bedroom, grabbing her purse as we head in.
“Okay,” she dumps the purses contents and out comes a bag of Bobby pins and mini hair spray, a green scrunchie, and a push up bra. “Now let’s get one thing straight, you are not wearing that.”
Before I can protest she throws open my closet doors, rifling through for something, I don’t bother asking what.
“Here!” She exclaims after a moment, pulling out something she had lent me long ago that I had never been bold enough to wear.
The dress is small, with a plunging neckline and capped sleeves. The hem goes down barely to my mid thighs and it looks as if it would hug every curve of me. Very different than my normal clothing choices.
“Liza I don’t know.” I say, leaning against the wall as I nervously twist a curl around my finger, “I worry ill just look awkward.”
But my cousin shakes her head and pushes the dress towards me.
“Just try it.” She says, backing out of the room before I can protest.
I consider it for a long moment before unclipping my overalls and peeling off my shorts, then pulling off my tank top. I replace my bra with the push up one Liza had brought and pause to marvel at how my breasts look all pushed up.
I pull the dress on before I can sike myself out, and call for Liza to come in and help me zip.
“Oh Audrey, yes.” Is all she says as she enters, her eyes darting across my whole dorm.
I smile at her in the mirror as she stands behind me, zipping me up.
“I do look good, don’t I.” I say with a smile, enjoying the way my figure looks fuller.
“Yes. You’ll kill your hookup before he even has the chance to say ‘let’s—’”
I smack her on the arm before she can finish.
“His name is Thomas.” I say, shaking my head, “I’ll point him out when he gets here.”
Liza beams as I surrender my hair and makeup to her, letting her put on gold eyeshadow, thick black eyeliner, pink lipstick, and a ridiculous amount of glitter on my cheekbones and collar bones. She pulls my hair into a half ponytail atop my head with the green scrunchie, and finishes me off with a few puffs of hairspray and a pair of gold hoops.
I hardly recognize myself in the mirror, but I like the changes I see before me. It almost feels like a disguise, like I might somehow be able to face Thomas after what happened this morning if this is how I’ll look from the outside.
The doorbell rings just as Liza is putting away everything.
“First of our guests!!” She exclaims, dashing to the door.
I strain my gaze, but Thomas is not among the group of my grad school friends that enter. I check the clock above my bed and see that it’s only nine, that the party had only just begun.
But nine turns into ten, and ten to eleven.
Though the party is nowhere near close to winding down, I’m starting to worry he may not show.
Liza pushes a fifth shot of whisky into my hand and clinks me before knocking hers back.
“Do you think I should go get him?” I ask, and she looks back at me, her cheeks flushed from booze, but her eyes as fiery as normal.
“Do you want him here?” She asks, and before I can think to sike myself out I nod.
“I do, Liza. I haven’t even been able to enjoy the party. There’s no one else I want to dance with, no one else I want to even talk to…” I pause as she glowers at me, “besides you of course!” I add quickly
She doesn’t even pause, simply taking the shot from my hand and setting it on the counter.
“Then you better go get him.” She says, squeezing my hand before pushing me in the direction of the door.
I close the door behind me as I step into the hall, taking a deep breath and doing my best not to stumble as I cross the hall in my heels, coming to rest just in front of his door. I raise my hand, but can’t seem to find the courage to knock. I groan, and let my head drop forward and rest against the door. However, I hadn’t accounted for the noise it would make, and as I pull away to rub my forehead, I can hear footsteps coming from inside the apartment.
I square my shoulders, smoothing my hair and adjusting my boobs inside the bra. I plaster on my best smile, trying to push away my nerves when the door opens to reveal--
A girl. Not his sister, and not someone I have ever seen before. My cheeks flush and my blood runs hot in my veins as I stumble back from the door.
“Who’s at the door Ileana?” Thomas’ voice calls from somewhere in the room. I blink back tears as I taking in her clothes, or lack thereof. She stands in an oversized t shirt and a pair of short cloth shorts.
“I’m not sure Tommy.” She says, and I begin to backpedal away from the door “Looks like she’s just come from the party.”
But as I hear Thomas’ heavy steps come towards the door I turn and begin quickly walking away, blinking furiously.
“Audrey Rose?” Thomas calls, and I freeze. “What are you doing here?”
I turn and see he is full clothed and he doesn’t look too disheveled. I take a small comfort in that as he looks me up and down, his eyes widening as he takes in the low neckline of the dress and my breasts that are practically popping out.
“I was just coming to see why you hadn’t,” I paused, swallowing the lump in my throat and doing my best to steady my voice, “shown up to the party.”
“So we were invited to the party!” The sultry voice from the first day I met him comes from the apartment, and soon there is a third dark haired individual standing in the doorway.
Daciana Cresswell’s hair hangs in long waves of black, the dark green of her dress making her skin look even more fair than it had the day I met her.
“Yes.” I manage to get out, my eyes once again trailing over to Ileana, the girl who is now threading her hand through Daciana’s.
“Thomas you liar.” Daciana smacks her brother in the arm before stepping out of the apartment. She smiles at me, her hand still holding the other girls. “I’m Daciana, and it is a pleasure to meet you for real Audrey Rose.” She says with a grin, “This is my girlfriend Ileana.” She pauses, eyes searching my face as a wave of understanding washes over me, and suddenly I feel very foolish. “It was so kind of you to invite us, I only wish Thomas had been kind enough to pass along the message.” She shakes her head in her brothers direction.
“No worries.” I say, a smile sliding across my face as I step to my door and open it, allowing Daciana and Ileana to cross the threshold and join the mob of people inside my apartment.
I stand next to the door, lifting my gaze back to meet Thomas’s. He leans against his doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. I want to cross to him and kiss the last remnants of his sadness this morning off of his face, but I hold myself back.
“You coming?” I ask, gesturing to the open door beside me.
He sizes me up for a long moment, our eyes battling for dominance the way our lips had so many times before. After a long moment, he nods, and I watch him slip his keys into his pocket before closing his door and taking a step towards me.
I extend my hand to him and he takes it. We enter the party together, and I close the door behind us.
I lose him briefly as he goes to the drink table and I go to exchange a few quick words with Liza, but he finds me again on the dance floor a moment later, his normal scent now laced with a hint of whisky.
I smile and take his hands in mine, pulling him close as we dance together. His hands find a place to rest on my backside, and I am content with settling mine around his neck. We do not speak, not as we dance, nor after he kisses me, giving my ass a good squeeze. We just share smiles and lazy kisses. I realize in these moments of silence as the party rages on around us that I could be content to have nothing but this.
We dance as the party dwindles, as slowly but surely, my friends and Liza’s are all gone, until the only people left on the floor is me, him, his sister, and Ileana. Liza is passed out on the couch, and only after I finally tear my gaze from his captivating eyes do I realize how tired I am, and how late it is.
I turn off the stereo and toss a blanket over Liza, surveying the messy apartment around me. I sigh as Thomas exchanges a few words with his sister, moving to grab a trash bag. But Liza stirs on the couch.
“We’ll deal with it in the morning, Audrey.” She drawls before turning over and burrowing into her blankets.
I move to her, unstrapping her shoes, and doing my best to wipe off her lipstick with a napkin. When I look up from her face, Thomas is ushering the girls from my apartment. I weigh my options, stay and just turn in, or chase him down.
Five shots of whisky and my need overrule my nerves and I stand up, kicking my heels off before dashing across the room.
“Thomas wait.” I say, grabbing his hand. I realize that his sister and the other girl are beside him in the hall, and their inquisitive looks make me flush. But it’s long past the time for being shy. I thread my fingers through Thomas’s. “Come with me to the roof?”
He fishes his keys from his pockets and offers them to his sister, not even looking at her as she mumbles goodnight, simply keeping his gaze on me as I lead us to the roof.
The cool breeze of the summer night causes gooseflesh to form on my arms and I shiver, leaning into him slightly for warmth. He obliges me by wrapping his arm around my shoulder.
“Thomas.” I murmur, looking up at him, his eyes dancing in the moonlight. “Do you really want to go out with me?”
He pauses for a long moment,
“Audrey Rose like I said before, I’m happy to do as much or as little as you want. I know you are still getting over Will and I don’t want to rush you--”
But I silence him by gently putting a finger over his lips.
“I haven’t thought about Will in weeks.” I bite my lip as I trace his jawline with my fingertips. Now it is his turn to shiver, and the want in his eyes lights a fire inside of me. “I realized tonight, when I felt incomplete without you at the party, when I thought that girl was someone you were also hooking up with,” I swallow, “when you held me in your arms when we danced. I feel at home when you are with me.” I trace his cheekbone with my hand, “Can we agree to see each other during the day? And to not, do what we do, with anyone else?”
For a moment, as another grin plays at his lips, I worry he is going to retort with a sassy comment, but when he smiles and covers my hand on his cheek with his, I see all the humor melt away in his eyes.
“Audrey Rose Wadsworth, I would like nothing more than that.” He says with a gentle smile, using his other hand to brush a stray curl from my eyes.
I grasp the hand he had settled on my cheek and press a kiss to his palm.
The whole galaxy seems to twirl around us as he takes my face in his hands and kisses me. Softer, purer than any other kiss we have shared before. He leaves me breathless and wanting more as he pulls away.
---
as always thanks a literal million for reading :) Please let me know if you want more from this series 
xx
tag list:
@lizziehatter @city-of-fae @beasnotebook @shaewony @nish247 @schmlip-scribble
21 notes · View notes