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berrynarrybanana · 4 years

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Me and You Together

A/N: Hello! I would like to say first of all that ^ is not my gif. I had it saved on my computer from somewhere and it just felt perfect for this. I do love my little sweet pea and frat boy Harry, but I also feel like I’ve done them dirty in this fic. I wanted to add more angst, but we all know I’m shit at that kind of stuff bc I’m soft at heart. Anywho, I really hope that you enjoy this and I just want to thank the lovely @stellarboystyles for putting together this little fic challenge. Congrats on 3 years babe! I hope that you like this story and that I have done this celebratory moment justice!

Word Count: 11.9 k

Warnings: Alcohol, smut, pining, Louis being a dickhead, a mean roommate

Trope: Best Friends to Lovers with Frat Boy Harry

Prompt: “Just sit on my fingers. Yeah, just like that.” (this is all the way at the end tbh, just a heads up lol)

P.s I know nothing about frat’s honestly and I just tried to avoid that the best that I could but fratboy!h lives in my mind rent free and I wanted to write it so....yeah.

September

Piper’s POV

I rolled my head back on my neck, looking up at the ceiling as my roommate sighed.

“Has anyone told you that you’re a selfish bitch?” Carli asked, her perfectly manicured nail resting on the cheap, wooden door of our dorm room. “I’m trying to unwind and relax after an extremely hard week and you’re ruining it for me.”

“I live here too!” I felt my brows pull together in frustration as I adjusted my bag on my sore shoulders, shifting from foot to foot. “The least you can let me do is come in and change before you start fucking.”

“You’re killing my mood!” She groaned, holding her hand out. “Give me your fucking bag and tell me what you need.”

“Carli-”

“Tell me what you need or I’m shutting this door in your face, I swear to god.” She snapped, her brows arching up as she wiggled her fingers at me. “You have five seconds.”

“Fine!” I said, shrugging my bag off my tired shoulders. “I need my purse, a black t-shirt, and a jacket.”

“Great.”

She slammed the door in my face, flicking the lock as I brushed my hands over my face angrily.

College was not supposed to be like this.

The next four years of my life were meant to be spent making new friends and partaking in fun activities on campus. So far, the only person I knew was Carli and she most definitely hated my guts with a burning passion. I wasn’t sure why she hated me so much when I mainly kept to myself, hunched over my desk with headphones on for most of the night when I studied. I hardly ever talked to Carli besides the odd argument about my typing being too loud and my presence being too...obvious. I hated every second of college so far and this wasn’t helping me at all.

I was moments away from having a breakdown, the build up creeping up my throat as I stood there in the hall, waiting for Carli as everyone else stared at my back. I tried not to let their prying eyes bother me, but I could feel the hairs standing up on the back of my neck as I crossed my arms over my chest. I tried to distract my mind, thinking about where I was going to go while Carli got her rocks off in our shared room. Maybe the library? Maybe a cafe?

Just as I started listing off cafes in my head, the door opened just a crack.

“Here’s your stuff, don’t come home before midnight.” She stuck a hand out, her voice muffled by the door. I rolled my eyes, grabbing my things from her hands. “Bye, Pippi!”

“It’s Piper, you unbearable asshole.” I sighed, holding my stuff close to my chest as frustrated tears started to accumulate behind my eyes. “I hope you don’t have an orgasm.”

I turned on my heels, ready to storm towards the communal bathroom so I could change and collect myself before leaving. I only made it halfway down the hall when I heard someone shouting behind me. I wasn’t sure they were actually calling out for me until I felt a hand on my shoulder. I stopped in my tracks, sniffling as I reached up to wipe at my cheeks.

“Piper, hold on.” The girl who was calling my name stepped in front of me, letting out a shuddery breath. She only had eyeshadow on one of her perfectly shaped eyes and a makeup brush in her hand as she stopped. “I just wanted to say that I am so sorry your roommate just did that to you. You can use my room to change if you’d like? I know the communal bathroom doesn’t always offer the most privacy and my roommate is never home. I’ll stand outside and everything!”

“You don’t have to do that.” I sniffled before offering her a forced smile. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with teasing right now. “But thank you.”

“I insist.” Her brown eyes looked softer as she spoke, her hand falling to her side. “My name is Eleanor. I think we have Modern English together.”

“Piper.” I said. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “I don’t mind it at all, babes.”

Eleanor left me in her room to get dressed, politely standing outside as I collected myself.

I took a few deep breaths, trying to compose myself as I stripped out of the blouse I had been wearing all day. I pulled my black t-shirt on, huffing when I realized that this wasn’t the one I actually needed. This one was meant for darker jeans and a pair of heeled boots. This top was meant for parties and bars, not a cafe. The criss crossed pattern was far too fancy for a late night cup of coffee and a lonely piece of cheesecake.

When I opened the door, my old shirt bundled up in my hand, I smiled at Eleanor.

She looked over my outfit, her eyes growing wide.

“You look great!” She said. “Do you have plans tonight?”

“I was just gonna go to Fitz and Co for coffee and dessert.” I gave her a nervous chuckle, clutching my old shirt in my hands. “Probably going to wander around campus after to kill time.”

“Don’t take offense,” She gave me a sweet smile, her accent growing thicker with each word she spoke. I hadn’t noticed it all that much before when my emotions were on overdrive and my mind was swirling with anger. “But that sounds absolutely dreadful and you deserve to have a little bit of fun. It’s Friday night for fuck’s sake and we’re in Uni!”

“I don’t really know anyone on campus.” I shrugged. “I’ve not made a ton of friends yet, you know?”

“I do, actually.” She nodded. “If I had to say, you’re the first person I’ve tried to make conversation with since I’ve been here. I’m going to a party tonight because my boyfriend’s frat is hosting it, and he’ll just text me all night if I don’t go.”

“That sounds like fun.” I said. “Thank you for helping me out and offering me your room. I really hope you have fun tonight."

“Why don’t you come with me?” She asked. “I know frat parties sound horrible after all the stuff you see in films, and a lot of them are pretty shit, but I would love to have a drinking buddy.”

“I don’t want to impose.” I said. “I’m sure you want to spend time with your boyfriend.”

“Nonsense, he sees me everyday.” She shook her head. “I would love to have someone to chat with that isn’t one of his football friends from back home.”

“Um, okay.’” I shrugged. “I guess that’s not too horrible and I kind of owe you one.”

“You won’t regret it.”

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“So the house shouldn’t be too crowded.” Eleanor pulled her flannel tighter around her body, hunching over as the wind whipped around us. “A few of the guys are still out getting alcohol and people aren’t supposed to start showing up for another hour at least.”

“That’s good.” I nodded. “So why did you decide to come to school here?”

“Louis.” She said. “I couldn’t stomach the idea of being away from Lou and there are so many opportunities in America for both of us. He’s here on a footie scholarship and I’m here on a performing arts scholarship.”

“That’s really cool!” I exclaimed, my eyebrows raising up. “I didn’t peg you for a theatre nerd.”

“Just a tiny one.” She chuckled. “I’m more into the costumes than anything. Fashion has always owned my heart and my Mum took me to so many musicals as a girl. I figured I would combine my love for both and make it my career.”

“I admire that.” I said softly, glancing down at the sidewalk as we turned a corner. “So how long have you and Louis been together?”

“Four years.” She smiled. “We met on a holiday to London one summer and we’ve never let go of each other. Last year we went to the same University for our first year before deciding to come abroad and it was….magical.”

“He sounds lovely.” I said. “He makes you happy?”

“He does.” She nodded, her lips pursing slightly as she tried to hide her smile. “He’s a proper gentleman, even when he’s being a bit too laddie.”

“I don’t even know what that means.” I chuckled and Eleanor joined in. “What is a laddie? Is that like Lassie, the dog?”

“Not like that dog.” She scrunched up her nose. “I think you call them ‘Bro’s’ over here.”

“Ah, I do understand then.”

Eleanor and I continued chatting as we walked down Frat Row.

The houses were large, but they looked a little plain and rundown. I imagine having a group of rowdy, drunk boys living in a house without supervision didn’t do well for wear and tear on a house. Eleanor told me that the last house on frat row in the cul-de-sac belonged to pretty much the entire footy team with a few odd guys sprinkled in.

When we arrived, my jaw nearly dropped to the ground.

I was living in a tiny dorm room and these men were living like kings and a gigantic and modern house that looked brand new. Eleanor laughed as I took in the dark, blue-grey exterior. The shutters and the porch were both painted a dark, charcoal grey. We walked up the stairs and I continued to look around like a kid lost in a candy store.

Maybe joining a sorority wasn’t a bad move?

“So, that is the living room and just down that first hall is the bathroom. I recommend going upstairs to Louis’ room if you want to use a clean and unoccupied bathroom.” She chuckled. “I’ll show you around upstairs later if you’d like.”

“This is the cleanest Frat house I’ve ever seen in my life.” I said slowly, looking around. “How is it so pristine?”

“A few of the guys are really obsessed with cleanliness and organization.” She chuckled. “Also I spend a lot of time over here, so I do what I can.”

“I would spend all of my time here, too.” I said. “Why are you even in a dorm if you could be here?”

“Rules.” She rolled her eyes. “Technically women aren’t allowed to be housed in a frat, which blows, but I understand it.”

“Well, I’ll pretend to be you and stay in your dorm if you want to fly under the radar and move here.” I teased, patting her shoulder. “It’s a win win for both of us.”

“I might take you up on that.” She giggled, guiding me through an open archway. “This here is the kitchen-”

“Ellie, s’that you!”

Eleanor flinched at the booming voice from upstairs, her eyes casting up to the ceiling as she grumbled.

“Bloody hell, these men,” She shot me a sympathetic look and I tried my best not to laugh softly at her annoyance. “Yes, Niall?”

“I need help.” This accent was slightly different than Eleanor’s and it almost reminded me of the guy on the lucky charms commercial. “I don’t know what trousers to wear, should I do these dark jeans or these plaid one’s.”

The voice was closer and closer with each word and suddenly, a half naked man appeared in the doorway, holding two pairs of pants as he looked down at them. He was wearing white boxer briefs and white socks, the rest of his pale and freckled skin on display. I had to admit that he was extremely attractive, chestnut colored hair on top of his head and a soft stomach rounded out with a matching chestnut happy trail dusting under his belly button.

“Oh, hello.” He looked up, smiling at me with piercing blue eyes and extremely handsome features. I tried not to blush, my eyes glued to his. “Which one’s do ya think I should wear, love? Good to have an outsider’s perspective sometimes.”

The sound of a door shutting behind us caused my head to snap around.

This was more of a man standing at the opposite end of the kitchen, his chocolate colored curls framing his face and resting on his broad shoulders as he looked up at me. His face was perfect, adonis like features catching my attention and his bright green eyes causing my breath to catch in my throat. He offered me a small smile, his features soft as he cleared his throat.

“Hello.” He said softly to me before his eyes darted up, looking behind me. “For fuck’s sake, Niall. Why are you nearly naked!”

“I needed help!” I turned my head back towards Niall as his brows pulled together, his lips turning to a scowl. “I can’t decide what trousers to wear and Liam is no help!”

“We have a guest.” The green eyed god spoke from behind me, but I didn’t dare turn my head. I was afraid that if I did, I would be stuck staring at him for the rest of the night. “Don’t be rude.”

I glanced over at Eleanor who lifted her hand to pinch the bridge of her nose.

I tried, again, not to laugh at her misery.

“I swear to god, Niall,” She sighed heavily. “The least you could do is introduce yourself to the poor girl before you flash her.”

“M’Niall,” He rolled his eyes, looking over at me. “What’s your name, love?”

Harry’s POV

“My name is Piper.”

I stared at the back of her head, trying my best not to think about running my fingers through her soft curls that nearly matched the shade of my own. I inhaled sharply as I pressed my fingertips into the marble countertop below me. I had seen this girl, Piper, around campus before. I saw her flitting from building to building with her head tilted down and her headphones tucked in her cute little ears. I had a huge crush on this girl and now she was standing in my kitchen with my half-naked roommate and my best friend’s girl.

This wasn’t a good thing at all.

“S’nice to meet you, Piper.” Niall winked at her and I rolled my eyes, shooting him a glare over the girls head.

His brows furrowed and I gave him a pointed look before mouthing, ‘That’s the girl’.

Niall’s brows lifted up and he shot me a cheeky grin.

He was the only one I confided in about my girl troubles.

He knew all about the mystery girl that I passed by every day on my way to physics class and he had suggested to me several times that bumping into her was the best way to catch her attention. I declined, rolling my eyes at his childish suggestion. I had to admit though, if she had been in my class, I would have tossed paper at the back of her head to get her attention.

It was a trick that never failed.

“Well, I’m gonna go get dressed then.” He cleared his throat, glancing over at Eleanor. “Lou is stuck on the phone with his Mum, babe. I think he might need some rescuing if he’s going to join the party at all tonight.”

“Oh,” Eleanor stood straighter, glancing over at Piper. “I don’t want to leave Piper-”

“I can stay with her.” I cleared my throat, reaching up to fiddle with my hair as both girls turned to look at me. “I’ve finished my part of party prep, so I don’t mind.”

“Harry, I don’t know.” Eleanor said. “I’m already afraid Niall’s neon white body is going to scare her off. I don’t need you turning on your Cheshire Charm.”

“Oi, I resent that.” I narrowed my eyes at her playfully, trying to fight off my smile as she chuckled. “I won’t be turning on any charm tonight, love. I’ve got a big match to play tomorrow, remember? Gotta save my strength and energy if I wanna do well.”

“Alright, fine.” Eleanor sighed, turning back to Piper. “Are you okay if I disappear for a few minutes? I promise I’ll be right back.”

“It’s fine.” Piper smiled at Eleanor, gently nodding her head. “Please, go ahead. I don’t mind waiting down here.”

“You’re sure?” Eleanor asked, her face laced with concern.

“Positive.” Piper glanced over at me. “I think I’m in good hands with ol’ Cheshire Charm back there.”

My smile was so wide that it hurt my cheeks.

She was funny and gorgeous.

Eleanor glanced between the two of us before saying a quick ‘be right back’.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Piper turned around, her hands pressing against the countertop as Niall wiggled his brows behind us. He disappeared behind Eleanor moments later, leaving Piper and I alone in the kitchen. “Would you like a Whiteclaw?”

“Oh, sure.” She nodded, her eyes dropping down to her hands. “I would love one.”

“You seem a bit nervous.” I said, walking towards the fridge. “Do you have a flavor preference?”

“No.” She said softly. “And yeah, I guess I am a bit nervous. I’ve had a pretty tough day and I wasn’t exactly prepared to come to a frat party.”

“Why are you here then?” I asked, my eyes scanning the shelves until I landed on the one filled with canned drinks. I reached for two lime flavored cocktails, pulling them out before I shut the door with my hip. “If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

“Um, Eleanor extended the invitation and I kind of owed her one.” Piper smiled, taking the drink with a soft ‘thank you’. “My roommate is a bit of a dickhead and she kicked me out so she could get laid. Eleanor saw me in the hallway on the verge of a mental breakdown and we just...hit it off, I guess.”

“Sorry your roommate was a dickhead.” I smiled, letting my eyes roam over the soft features of her face. “I’m glad you and El hit it off though. It’s nice to have a new face around here.”

I let my eyes trail over the features of her face now that she was up close and personal.

Her eyes were hazel, a soft golden hue to her irises. Her brows were thick and wild, but perfectly shaped. There were soft freckles peeking out from under her foundation and her cheeks were a soft shade of red. Her nose was soft and rounded at the end and I couldn’t help but think of hovering over her, brushing my own nose against hers as I thrust into her.

I hated being a man sometimes.

She was a beautiful girl and even in my head she deserved better than to be thought of that way. She was more than just a sexual object and she didn’t need some creepy frat guy thinking dirty thoughts about her only moments after meeting her. I cleared my throat, reaching for my drink. I took a long sip as she raised her brows, offering me a sly smirk as she sipped at her own drink.

“Eleanor is a really sweet girl.” I rested my can on the marble countertop. “She’s been having trouble making friends over here, so it’s nice that she’s found someone to hang out with besides us.”

“I really like her.” Piper said softly. “I’ve been having trouble making friends, too. I’m not really the best at putting myself out there, you know?”

“I think you’re doing just fine.” I flashed her a reassuring smile, noticing how her cheeks turned a shade darker. “I don’t think I’ve fully introduced myself, love. I’m Harry.”

“I’m Piper.” She held her hand out and I took it, giving it a soft shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Harry.”

Her skin was so bloody soft, her hands a little cold and damp from the can she was holding.

“You too.” I said. “If you need anything tonight, please don’t hesitate to find me. I know how overwhelming these parties can be and I’ll be happy to keep you company or walk you out for some fresh air if you need it.”

“Thank you.” She said softly. “The same goes for you. If you need any company tonight, I’m your girl.”

Just like that, my mind was back in the gutter.

All I could hear in my head was the echoes of her sweet moans, her voice chanting over and over again ‘M’your girl, Harry. Yours’. I cleared my throat, giving her a tight smile as I tried to avoid thinking about her tucked in my sheets, writhing and gasping as I licked into her.

I was so totally fucked.

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“Piper, babe,” I laughed, holding her hips tightly as she swayed. “I think we should sit you down for a minute, yeah?”

“If I sit, I’ll sleep.” She whined, looking up at me with her sweet puppy dog eyes. “Where did Eleanor go?”

“Eleanor is going upstairs with Louis.” I said softly, digging my fingers into the fleshy skin above the waistband of her jeans. “Do you want me to take you home?”

She pursed her lips, shaking her head as she pressed her hands into my shoulders.

I knew exactly how we’d gotten here.

The party was still going strong around us, people dancing and shouting as Piper swayed in front of me. I wanted so badly to brush her hair from her face and stroke the soft skin of her cheek, but I would never do something like that when she was this off her face. Holding onto her hips was already too intimate for my liking, but I was afraid she would topple over without some form of support. She swayed forward, her eyes face pinching up ever so slightly before she pressed one hand to her forehead. I frowned, pulling her closer as a group of guys rushed by.

If Niall hadn’t suggested we play four drinking games in a row, Piper and Eleanor might not have been off their faces within the first two hours of the party. I had to admit that I didn’t exactly mind taking care of Piper. She was a funny drunk, silly puns and snide comments slipping from her lips carelessly as she leaned against me. It was when her eyes started to drift shut and her body started to sway, that I started to worry about her. I pulled her into the kitchen alongside a giggly Eleanor, handing them both bottles of water while I quickly cooked up some pizza rolls that Niall had hidden in the freezer. Both girls ate between loud laughs, knocking into each other as I watched them with a small smile on my face.

Seeing Eleanor happy made me happy, but seeing her happy with the girl of my dreams made me feel like I was on cloud nine.

“Mate,” Louis’ hand clapped down on my shoulder and I turned my head as Piper’s body fell into mine. “I can take her off your hands. El told me they live in the same halls-”

“She can barely stand on her own, Lou.” I shook my head, glancing down as she rested her head on my shoulder. “Gonna go put her to bed in my room. I’ll sleep on the couch after everyone is gone.”

“Lock the door if you leave her up there.” Louis said. “I’m going back up to El in a minute, but I figured I should get some painkillers and water for the morning.”

“Bring some up for Piper?” I asked him. “I probably won’t leave her alone in there, knowing all of these jackasses are around.”

“Tell me about it.” Louis snorted out a laugh, shaking his head. “I’ll be up in five.”

I nodded, watching him disappear through the crowd of people in our living room.

“Hey, love,” I said softly. “Gonna take you upstairs and tuck you in, okay?”

“Kay.” She mumbled, turning her head until her nose brushed against the column of my neck.

I made a mental note to have a talk with her tomorrow about going places with strangers when she was drunk. I knew that I meant no harm, but we were still getting to know each other. It set off a level of worry that I only ever felt when it came to my Mum or Sister. It was almost a primal need to protect, my arms winding tightly around her as I guided her to the stairs.

It was no easy feat to get her up the staircase, but when we finally made it to my room, she snapped into a more alert mode. She looked up, her tired eyes growing as wide as they could before she brushed some of her hair out of her face. She looked up at me, her eyes searching my face as I pressed my hand lightly to her lower back.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Harry.” She said softly. “I’m really sorry I’m ruining your fun.”

“Nonsense, love.” I shook my head. “S’just another party, there will be plenty more.”

“Still.” She mumbled. “I don’t want to take your bed. Sleeping on the couch is bad for your back and I overheard that you have a match tomorrow.”

“S’alright.” I said. “I’ve slept on a floor before a match and still kicked ass, Piper. I don’t mind giving my bed up for a good cause.”

She let out an aggravated sigh, rolling her eyes at me.

I tried not to smile as she grumbled under her breath, reaching for the doorknob to my bedroom door. I followed in behind her, flicking the light switch on before I shut the door behind me. Piper staggered a little and I hovered, my hands waiting to catch her should she fall. Instead, she stumbled over to my bed on bambi like legs, collapsing on the foot with a soft groan.

“You need some help?” I asked her as she lifted her leg, struggling with her shoe. She merely waved her hand at me, shaking her head. “You want something comfy to change into? I’ve got sweats, shorts-”

“Sweats sound lovely.” She mumbled, a soft ‘aha’ falling from her lips as she finally tugged the shoelace of her boot out of a knot. “You’re a true gentleman, has anyone ever told you that?”

“My Mum.” I chuckled, walking over to my dresser in search of comfy clothes.

“S’good,” Piper sighed out as her boot hit the floor. “Hard to find a proper gentleman these days, Harry. I think Jude Law was the last of them.”

“I won’t argue with you there.” I shook my head, trying to contain my laughter as I sifted through my sweatpants. I settled on my favorite pair, the light grey fabric soft and worn. “Do you want a t-shirt to sleep in or a long sleeve shirt?”

“Um, t-shirt.” She mumbled. “Your room is lovely. Did you do all of the decorating yourself?”

“I did, yeah.” I nodded. “Brought a few key things from home, but I spent most of my money in Target when I got here.”

“Amen to that.” She hiccuped softly. “I like your record player. I’ve always wanted one of those.”

“One day you’ll have to come up and listen to some records with me.” I glanced at her over my shoulder, noting how the corners of her lips ticked up into a girlish grin. “What kind of music do you like?”

“All of it.” She said simply, her voice trailing off. “I’ve always been a fan of classical music for studying. My mom calls me a psychopath.”

“They are known for indulging in the genre.” I snorted, pulling out a white t-shirt before I turned around. “I think that’s lovely, though. I’ve heard some good stuff from Bach in my music theory class and I have to say, it makes for good studying music.”

“That’s what I’m saying.” She said. “I love me some cello, mate.”

“Look at that.” I hummed out, holding the clothes out to her. “Got you talking like a proper brit now, don’t we. Didn’t even know what footy was at the start of the night.”

“Piss off.” She grumbled, trying to hide her amusement as she mocked my accent.

“I’m gonna run to Louis' room while you get dressed, okay?” I said. “Gonna steal you some makeup wipes from El’s overnight bag so we can take your makeup off. I want you to lock the door and don’t open it for anyone besides me. I don’t care if it’s Niall or god himself, alright?”

“Alright.” She whispered softly. “You’re really fucking nice, Harry.”

I tried to resist the urge to brush my knuckles over the soft skin of her cheek, but I couldn’t.

I inhaled sharply as she closed her eyes, leaning into my touch with a soft hum.

“I’ll be right back.” I said softly. “Lock the door.”

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Piper’s POV

Falling in love with Harry took me all of five minutes.

I decided that it was physically impossible not to love someone so perfect. He was a real gentleman, keeping his hands in respectful spots even when I was falling all over him, drunk off my ass. I felt a little guilty about being so touchy-feely with someone I hardly knew, but I was comfortable around him from the start. He stood by my side for most of the night, talking with Eleanor and I as we tossed shots back like water.

I stood up from the foot of his bed, fiddling with the button on my pants. My vision was most definitely blurry and my fingers were shaking as I swayed on my feet, but I managed to pull the button from the loop before I shoved my pants down my legs. It took a bit of wiggling to get my ass settled into Harry’s sweats, an article of clothing clearly meant for a man with no….assets.

With a soft hiccup, I worked on my shirt, tossing it to the ground before I reached behind me to take off my bra. My drunk brain didn’t care about etiquette or embarrassment anymore. That all flew out the window with my third shot of tequila that Niall handed over. When I settled the fabric of Harry’s shirt over my tired limbs, I heard a soft knock at the door.

I stumbled over, pressing my ear against the wood to hear who was there. I was plastered, yeah, but I remembered Harry’s speech about not opening the door for anyone.

“Who is it?” I called out, my voice breaking just a little.

“S’me.” I heard Harry’s gruff voice. “S’Harry.”

I flicked the lock on the door, opening it up with a soft smile.

Harry held up some makeup wipes and a bottle of water, flashing me a cheesy grin. I laughed, shutting the door and flicking the lock behind him again as he walked into his room. When I turned around, my arms crossed over my chest, he was looking at my body with soft eyes.

“Everything feel comfy enough to sleep in?” He asked.

“Yeah, thanks.” I nodded.

“Alright.” He nodded, looking up at me with glassy jade eyes. “Let’s get you tucked in, shall we?”

I smiled, walking over to his bed.

I picked the side farthest from the door and closest to the window.

Harry pulled back the covers, waiting for me to climb in before he rested them over my legs. He set the bottle of water on the bedside table, two painkillers falling to the wood next to the plastic bottle. He sat down next to my legs, ripping into the makeup wipes with ease. I watched him pluck a sheet out before closing the pack back up, tossing it to the nightstand with the other items. I rolled my lips in as he turned towards me, holding the cloth out.

“Do you want me to do it?” He asked. “Just so you know it’s all gone?”

“Yes, please.” I nodded.

I could take my makeup off in my sleep.

I’d done it before, actually.

But there was something about being doted on by Harry that I wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

I preened as he wiped the cloth over my skin with gentle strokes, swiping away concealer and highlighter with ease. I let my eyes slip shut when he asked, his index finger gently brushing at the small bit of liquid liner and shimmery shadow on my lids. When it got to my lips, he did a few quick dabs before his touch was gone from my face all together.

“All clean.” He smiled, tossing the wipe towards the bin in the corner of the room. “Alright, I’m going to tuck you in and turn on a movie. I’ll just be on the floor next to you if you need anything at all. Bathroom is through that door right there.”

“Don’t sleep on the floor.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m okay with sharing a bed with you, Harry. Friends do that all the time, don’t they?”

“But you’re drunk.” He said softly. “And I don’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable-”

“I don’t.” I said. “From the moment we met, you’ve made me feel very welcomed and comfortable. I promise that I don’t feel unsafe or pressured in any way, Harry. If you feel more comfortable sleeping on the floor, then I understand, but I’m okay with you sleeping next to me.”

Harry reached up to rustle his long strands of hair, his curls flopping about as he looked at me with a curious gaze. He inhaled sharply, nibbling on his lower lip as I stared back at him with raised brows and an amused grin.

“I’ll put a pillow wall between us and everything.” I said. “If it makes you feel comfortable.”

“I just don’t want you to wake up in the morning and freak out.” He said softly. “You’ve had a lot to drink and if you don’t remember any of this tomorrow, it might be a little scary to wake up with a strange man in your bed.”

“Well, it’s your bed.” I said softly. “And I’ve been worse off than this and still remembered what happened the night before, Harry. I come from a very small town where drinking is considered a sport. This is a regular Tuesday for me.”

“Alright.” He whispered through a breathy laugh. “But if you change your mind at any point through the night, feel free to kick me out of bed.”

“I won’t.” I rolled my eyes. “Get ready for bed, yeah? You’ve got a big day tomorrow and I can’t have you losing a match because of me. People will think I’m bad luck.”

🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃

Harry’s POV

When I woke up in the middle of the night, our pillow wall was gone.

Piper’s cheek was pressed into her pillow, soft puffs of air escaping her parted lips as she tightened her grip on my shirt. Her hand was resting on my tummy and her foot was hooked over my calf muscle, but she remained on her side of the bed. I lay there for a minute, watching her peaceful face as she slept. I tried to commit her features to memory, my heart squeezing in my chest as she shuffled around a bit. I rested my hand over hers, softly brushing my fingers over her knuckles as her body moved just a little closer to mine.

The dry feeling in my mouth pulled me from my peaceful moment, urging me to go downstairs for my own bottle of water. It was silent in the house, no more music pumping through the speakers downstairs, and I felt safe enough to leave Piper on her own in my room without the doors locked. I would only be gone for a few minutes at the most, running down for water before I ran back up to curl back up next to the sleeping girl in my bed.

When I made it downstairs, Louis was already in the kitchen.

“Hey,” I grumbled, walking over to the fridge. “What are you doing up?”

“Same as you.” He said. “Thirsty.”

“Hmm.” I nodded. “Eleanor still knocked out cold?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “Love that girl to death, but she snores like a bloody chainsaw.”

“That she does.” I laughed, pulling a water bottle out. “I’m glad she’s got Piper as a friend. It was nice to see her unwind tonight.”

“It was.” Louis nodded, pressing his hip into the countertop. “Piper likes you.”

I nearly choked on my water as Louis looked up at me.

“What?” I asked. “How on earth-”

“It’s obvious, mate.” Louis rolled his eyes, an amused grin on his lips. “She’s got a bit of a crush on you, but what girl doesn’t?”

“Lou-” I said slowly, my eyes narrowing. “Why do I feel like you’re about to give me a speech.”

“It would break my heart if Eleanor lost her as a friend, Harry.” Louis said softly. “She doesn’t have anyone over here and I at least have you and Niall, you know? If she lost Piper because you two decided to fool around and things ended badly-”

“That’s not what this is.” I said quickly. “And I don’t appreciate what you’re trying to say, either. I would never hurt Piper, or anyone, on purpose. She’s a very sweet girl and it just so happens that I’ve liked her for a while.”

“You know each other, then?” Louis brows arched up and I sighed. “Wasn’t aware.”

“We don’t know each other, but I’ve seen her around campus.” I mumbled. “Always had my eyes on her, Lou. She’s fucking gorgeous.”

“Harry,” Louis said softly. “I’m asking you as a friend, please don’t get involved.”

“That’s a shitty thing to ask.” My voice was hoarse. “It’s late and we’re both still pissed. I’m going to bed.”

“Just think about it.” He said, knocking his knuckles against the countertop.

Lucky for Louis, it was all I could think about for the rest of the night.

🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃

Piper’s POV

When I woke up the next morning, I could feel Harry’s heartbeat against my cheek.

The annoying beeping of his alarm had me groaning and turning my face into his chest. I heard him mutter a soft series of ‘sorry’s’ before it turned off. Harry’s arm draped over my back, holding me against his chest as I closed my eyes again. I let out a soft hum as he brushed his fingers up and down my back, his chest rising and falling slowly under my head.

“I see that we’ve lost the pillow wall.” Harry’s voice was deep and raspy, causing a shiver to run up my spine.

“Sorry.” I whispered, lifting my head up as I pressed my palm to his chest. “I guess I tossed it aside in the middle of the night.”

“You did.” He chuckled softly. “You pushed it down with your feet and then you pulled it out and chucked it because you were trying to get comfortable.”

“You watched me?” I asked, blinking a few times to try and focus my vision as I rested my chin on the back of my hand.

“I felt you flopping around like a fish out of water and I had to check on you.” He said slowly, his own eyes still shut. “I fell back asleep and when I woke up for a wee you were snuggled so tightly against me that I could barely pry you off.”

“I didn’t know that I was a cuddler.” I mumbled softly. “I’ve never really slept in a bed with anyone else before.”

“Well, you can tick that box off of your bucket list.” He smiled, his fingers still brushing over my back as I looked down at him. “You staring at me?”

“A little.” I confessed, a small smile creeping up on my lips. “Think you’re pretty.”

“Love,” He let out a breathy chuckle. “Easy.”

“What?” I asked, dropping my head back to his chest. “Why can’t I say you're pretty? We spent the night together, I’m allowed to compliment you a little.”

“Do you think it’s a good idea to flirt with me?” He cleared his throat, shifting around under me. I groaned, falling back to the pillow next to him. “Do friends flirt?”

Friends.

I should have known better.

There was no way on earth someone like Harry would want to be with someone like me.

“Friends can call each other pretty.” I said dejectedly, turning on my side. “And friends can cuddle, too.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, you’re an amazing cuddler.” He said softly, pressing his palm to my bicep as he leaned over to kiss my temple. “You’re welcome to sleep more if you’d like, but I would love to take you out to breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” I turned my head, looking at him with furrowed brows. “I thought you had a match this morning?”

“I’ve got a few hours.” He rested his body next to mine, his head falling on the pillow next to mine lazily. “Eleanor will be at the match.”

“I know.” I whispered.

“You should sit with her.” Harry smiled. “I would like that.”

“Okay.” I said softly as he snaked his arm underneath my own, curling it around my middle. I tried to fight off a smile. “Thought we were getting up?”

“Few more minutes.” He mumbled. “You smell nice. S’that your perfume or your shampoo?”

“Probably both.” I smiled, resting my palm over his forearm. “Both sweet pea scented.”

“Piper.” He mused. “Sweet pea.”

“What are you mumbling about?” I asked, trying to contain my giggles at his sleepy rambling.

“Gonna call you sweet pea.” He mumbled. “Because your name starts with a P and you’re so sweet.”

Fuck being friends.

I liked this boy.

And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t ignore the fluttering feeling in my stomach.

I was truly fucked.

⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️

December

Piper’s POV

There were only a few seconds left in the match and our boys were killing it.

Eleanor gripped my hand tighter as Louis shouted to Niall across the field. Seconds later, he was kicking the ball with the side of his foot. Harry was much closer to the goal, ready to land the winning kick into the goal. I looked at him, his chest heaving and his hairline coated in a thin sheen of sweat. His face was intense and it made my thighs clench ever so slightly to see him so serious. He was always so attractive in the middle of a game, his brows pulled together and his lips pinched tightly together. I loved watching him pull his hair up before a game, twisting the long strands around before he tossed it up in a bun on top of his head.

“He’s got this.” I said. “Come on, Lou!”

“He’s gonna pass to Harry.” She shook her head. “He has to, babe. He’ll miss from back there.”

“They have five fucking seconds.” We always got a bit snippy during games, but never at each other. “It better be a flawless fucking pass.”

Louis passed the black and white checked ball to Harry with a swift kick and I held my breath, waiting to see what would happen. Harry pushed a guy on the opposing team gently with his shoulder, sliding low until his foot collided with the ball. Just as the last second ticked down, it collided with the net behind the goal and Harry collapsed on his back as players rushed around him.

Everyone cheered loudly, Eleanor jumping up with a loud cheer alongside the crowd. I could barely move, my heart thumping so loudly that it was all I could hear. I watched Harry’s back flat on the ground, my eyes watering as he continued to stay still. When I saw him sit up, shaking his head, I finally took a deep breath. Moments later, Louis and Niall were lifting him up on their shoulders.

“Thank, fuck.” I whispered, standing up next to Eleanor as I clapped.

Harry’s eyes flitted to the stands, landing on mine with a wide grin.

He was covered in mud and dirt, but he was fine.

Eleanor grabbed my hand, guiding me down towards the field.

She was quick to launch on Louis when her feet hit the grass and Niall was quick to run over and scoop me up. I patted him on the back, laughing as he shook me around in his arms.

“We won!” He cheered. “We bloody won!”

“I know!” I chuckled, brushing my hand over the back of his head. “I’m proud of you, Ni.”

He put me on my feet, pressing a kiss to my cheek before he turned around to Harry. He grabbed his best mate by the face, kissing his forehead before he ran off shouting something that was terribly hard to make out. I rolled my eyes, steadying myself on my feet. Harry walked over to me, holding his arms out with that same wide and cheeky grin on his lips.

“Come give your best mate a hug,” He said. “Gotta thank my good luck charm.”

“Harry, no.” I said, holding my hands up. “You’re covered in mud and grass and- Harry!”

I squealed, taking off on the grass as Harry chased me.

I dodged a few members of the opposing team, apologizing profusely.

It didn’t take very long for Harry to wrap his arms around me, pulling me against his chest.

“I deserve a bloody hug, sweet pea.” He squeezed me tight. “I won!”

“I know, but you’re gross.” I groaned, dropping my head back. “You get to shower before we go to lunch and I don’t.”

“You could always join.” He whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “Know you’ve been dying to see me naked, haven’t ya pea?”

“I will elbow you.” I grumbled, spinning around in his arms. “Don’t be a prick.”

“Just like watching you blush, Piper.” He reached over, pinching my cheek softly. “Where are we going for lunch today?”

“Where do we always go for lunch?” I rolled my eyes. “Go on, get cleaned up so we can go.”

“Fine, fine.” He sighed. “I’ll see you in ten?”

“I’ll be here.”

I walked back over to Eleanor and Louis, my mind stuck on Harry’s cheeky comment.

I hated when he did stuff like that.

He was always toying with my emotions, pulling me to and fro like I didn’t have any feelings at all. He knew that I had a crush on him and he knew that it sucked for me to be so close, but I had the power to stop it at any time. The truth was that I couldn’t stomach the thought of being away from him like that. I wanted him in my life, no matter how I could have him. I walked towards Eleanor with a heavy sigh, crossing my arms over my chest as she kissed Louis deeply.

Being around a couple constantly was torture when you weren’t apart of one yourself. Especially when the person you wanted to be a couple with was always around anyways. When the pair were done kissing, Louis ran off towards the stadium to take a shower in the locker room. Eleanor smiled over at me and I gave her a blank stare, my lips turning down.

“What happened?” she asked softly.

“He’s done it again!” I tossed my hands up. “He was all ‘you should come shower with me, I know you want to see me naked’. Isn’t he the one who keeps insisting we should just be friends?”

“He’s an idiot.” She rolled her eyes. “I hate that he keeps doing this and I hate that you won’t let me talk to him about it.”

“I don’t want to come between you and an old friend, El.” I shook my head. “He’ll grow up eventually, I guess. If he doesn’t, I guess I’ll have to start moving on.”

“I think you two would be so perfect for each other, babe.” She sighed. “I don’t know what his deal is!”

“Has Louis said anything?” I ask softly. “I don’t want to pry but-”

“Not a word.” She said, her sympathetic grin causing my heart to sink. “He spends all of his time with you and we both know that he’s into you, but something is holding him back.”

“Yeah.” I grimaced. “I like him so much, El.”

“I know.” She frowned. “I wish I could smack some sense into that thick skull of his. I mean, men can be so daft and then they say we’re the complicated ones!”

“I know!” I exclaimed. “Anyways, you and Lou are still coming to lunch with us, right?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Louis is dying for a turkey apple sandwich.”

“That does sound good.” I hummed out. “I was thinking about soup, though, it’s freezing out here.”

“Oh, soup.” She groaned out. “That’s perfect,”

⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️

Harry’s Pov

I wrapped my towel around my waist, letting out a heavy sigh as I turned the faucet off.

I hated what I was doing to Piper.

My sweet pea.

I couldn’t help but rile her up like that, watching her face flush red as I whispered in her ear.

Part of me was certain that I was riling her up so that she would make the first move. If that was the case, maybe Louis would realize that our feelings for each other were real.

“Mate,” Louis said. “What was that on the field?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, my brows furrowing as I walked up to my locker. “We won, Lou.”

“I meant when you were chasing Piper.” He said. “That was flirting, Harry.”

I snapped my mouth shut.

If he heard the things that passed between Piper and I when we were alone, he’d be livid.

It was borderline verbal sex with us sometimes, the tension so thick that it had her clamping her legs shut and me shifting in my seat.

“Was just teasing her, Lou.” I rolled my eyes. “You’re not getting onto Niall for picking her up and kissing her face.”

“Niall means no harm.”

“And neither do I.” I shot him a glare. “Mind your mouth.”

“Why her, Harry?” He sighed. “You could have any bird or lad on campus and you want her, why?”

“Because she’s Piper.” I turned towards him. “She’s the one that I want, okay. I can’t tell you why I think about her every moment of the day or why I want to be with her, I just do. I want to be there for her and you’re stupid fucking fear for Eleanor is standing in my way.”

“You can do what you want.” Louis’ jaw tensed. “M’not standing in your fookin’ way, mate.”

“But you are!” I shouted. “You are because you know that I would never do anything to hurt you or El because you’re family to me. You asked me not to do something and I’m being respectful of that because I respect you. I can’t say that you respect me though, because you would never ask this of me if you did. Can’t you see that this is killing me?”

Louis let out a frustrated huff as I turned back to my locker.

I grabbed my clothes, angrily pulling them on before I ran my towel over the wet strands of my hair. Piper would be pissed to see me pulling at my curls instead of properly scrunching them up with a soft t-shirt, but I couldn’t be arsed to care about that right now. I slammed my locker shut, hiking my bag onto my shoulder before I stormed out of the locker room. When I walked out onto the field, Eleanor and Piper were whispering amongst themselves.

“I just don’t get it.” Piper let out a sad sigh. “I want-”

“I know, babe!” Eleanor interrupted her with a chipper voice, pressing her hand to Piper’s bicep with a wide smile. “I wish they still had pumpkin spice too, I already miss it.”

“You women and your pumpkin spice.” I grumbled, pressing my hand to Piper’s hip before I leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Know you miss it, Pea, but it’s peppermint season now.”

“You’re right.” She gave me a playful pout. “I guess I can survive with that for now.”

“Thatta girl.” I chuckled, pulling my hand back as she reached up to touch my hair. “What?”

“You didn’t scrunch your hair properly, H.” She sighed. “I’ve told you to take better care of these curls! They’re going to be frizzy when they dry.”

I licked over my bottom lip, resisting the urge to lean down and kiss the pout off of her lips.

“Sweet Pea, I’m sorry.” I said softly. “I was in a little bit of a rush, yeah? Wanted to get my favorite girls to lunch.”

“In that case, I guess I can forgive you.” She mumbled.

☕️☕️☕️☕️

Piper’s POV

I sipped at my peppermint latte as Harry tossed a french fry into his mouth.

“So when are you all flying home?” I asked. “Only a few weeks left until Christmas and exams are almost over.”

“El and I are flying out next Friday.” Louis said, smiling over at his girlfriend. “I’m excited to see me Mum and sisters.”

“Me too.” Eleanor nodded. “Missed them all.”

“What about you, H?” I asked.

“I decided to stay.” He shrugged. “I don’t want to disrupt my schedule mid year, you know? It’ll be hard for me to get back into things come January if I spend an entire three weeks vegging out with Mum and Gem.”

“Oh.” I said softly, my face falling as he cleared his throat.

He was avoiding something and he was sad about it.

“I’m not going home either.” I said softly. “Too expensive to fly around the holiday’s, you know? Don’t make nearly enough being a full time fan girl for the footie team.”

“Tell me about it.” Eleanor rolled her eyes playfully. “Who do I talk to about getting that raise I was promised.”

“Oh, you get plenty as it is.” Louis leaned forward, capturing her lips. “Pay you in love and other things.”

Harry let out a frustrated sigh, standing up from the table.

“I’ve gotta go.” He pulled his wallet out, tossing twenty five dollars onto the table. “S’enough for both of us and the tip, Pea. I’ll see you later in Mcgregor Hall for our study session.”

“H-”

“Bye.” He leaned over, pressing a sloppy kiss to my forehead before doing the same to El.

I watched him storm out with a confused look on my face.

“Should I not have asked about Christmas?” I looked at Eleanor with soft eyes. “I can’t….El, I can’t do this anymore.”

“Babe, it’s gonna be fine.” She said softly. “He’s just a bit moody today, isn’t he? Misses his Mum a whole lot, it has nothing to do with you.”

“What are you two on about?” Louis asked, glancing between us. “Is something going on between you and Harry?”

“No.” I shook my head. “That’s the problem.”

“They have this chemistry and Piper really likes Harry, but he told her that being friend’s was their best option.” Eleanor explained softly. “Sometimes he’s sweet on her though and it makes her sad because she wants him.”

“El.” I mumbled, my cheeks growing warm. “He doesn’t need all of the details.”

“You like that miserable sod?” Louis asked. “You’re not worried about a relationship with him ruining your friendship?”

“Not really.” I shook my head at Louis. “Harry and I will always be friends.”

“No, I mean,” Louis sighed. “You’re not worried about it ruining you and Eleanor’s friendship?”

“No.” I said slowly. “What are you talking about?”

“I feel like if you and Harry were to break up, you wouldn’t want to be friends with El because he’s always around.” Louis said softly. “Wouldn’t that be hard?”

“For a bit, yeah.” I shrugged. “We’re both mature, though. I think we could work through any differences and remain friends.”

“Why are you being so nosy?” Eleanor narrowed her eyes, looking at Louis. “What have you done?”

“Nothin’!” Louis exclaimed. “I’ve not done anythin’.”

“Louis!” She cried out. “You’re lying to me.”

“M’not.” He fidgeted in his seat, avoiding her gaze. “Swear I meant well.”

“Louis, what did you do?” I asked softly, my heart dropping as he avoided my gaze. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything, I just…” He licked over his bottom lip, looking between Eleanor and I with wide eyes. “I just asked him to consider your friendship with Eleanor before making any moves on you. I didn’t want to see her lose her best friend, you know?”

“You’re a sodding prick, Louis Tomlinson.” Eleanor snapped. “You knew that Harry would respect that if you asked. He thinks of you as a brother and he would do anything for you.”

“I have to go.” I grabbed my bag and my coat. “I have to find Harry.”

“Go on,” Eleanor said. “I’ve got a very naughty boyfriend to deal with.”

❄️💠❄️💠❄️💠❄️

The first place I ran to was the frat house.

Harry wasn’t there and Niall hadn’t seen him at all.

The second place I ran was the park on the far end of campus that we often spent weekends at.

He wasn’t there either.

When I finally found him, I was only a little shocked.

“You just played a match, mate.” I let out a relieved sigh when he snapped his head up, his eyes softening when he saw me. “What are you doing out here?”

“Just needed to clear my head.” He said as I walked closer. “Why are you here?”

“I had to see you.” I took a deep breath, swiping the ball from between Harry’s feet with a swift kick. It landed in the goal and Harry let out an amused, but breathy chuckle. “I’m getting good.”

“You’ve got a good teacher.” He snorted out a laugh. “Everything okay, sweet pea?”

“No.” I said. “You see, I’ve got this friend and he’s having some girl trouble.”

“Oh, yeah?” He asked. “What’s his deal?”

“He really likes this girl and he flirts with her all the time, but he hasn’t made a move.” I shrugged, glancing up at Harry. “There’s this other friend of theirs that asked an impossible favor of him and he’s being loyal, which I admit is admirable, but a little daft, as you would say.”

Harry’s Adam's apple bobbed up and down softly and he looked over my head.

“He does sound quite daft, doesn’t he?” He let out a soft laugh, closing his eyes. “Piper-”

“It makes me love him more though.” I said softly. “The fact that he’s putting aside his feelings because he’s that loyal to the people he loves. It’s stupid, but really sweet.”

“You think so?” He asked, his eyes a little watery as he looked down at me.

“I do.” I nodded. “Why didn’t you talk to me about this, Harry? We share everything with each other and-”

“This was the one thing I couldn’t tell you, pea.” He said softly. “I never wanted to hurt you and...I knew that this would. I didn’t want you to feel like I was choosing something over you, because that isn’t the case.”

“Harry, it’s okay.” I said softly. “I would have understood and I also would have had a very long talk with Louis about minding his own business, darling. You’re free to be with whoever you want and no one can tell you otherwise.”

“What if I want to be with my beautiful best friend, pea?” He reached up, brushing his thumb over my chin. “What if I want to be with the girl that stole my heart the moment I saw her?”

“Then make a fucking move, Styles.” I let out a breathy laugh as he leaned closer. “She won’t wait around forever. She’s a fucking catch and-”

Harry’s lips pressed into mine, cold and wet and perfect.

I pressed my fingers into his shoulders, gripping his coat tightly with glove covered fingers.

He tilted his head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of my lips.

“You’re perfect, Piper.” His breath washed over my lips as I shuffled closer, desperately seeking his body heat. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” I said. “Just be with me, H. Be mine.”

“I’ve always been yours, Piper.” He brushed the tip of his nose over mine. “Always will be.”

When Harry’s lips pressed to mine again, something wet landed on my cheek.

We both pulled back, looking up at the sky with wide smiles.

“Snow.” I said softly.

“Christmas miracle isn’t complete with snow, is it?” He teased, brushing his nose against mine.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️

Harry’s POV

Louis looked like a child who had just been told Santa wasn’t real when Piper and I walked back into the cafe holding hands. He shot me a soft look that said ‘mate, I’m really sorry for being a dickhead’ and I gave him a tight smile in response. We still needed to have a talk about everything, but there was no use in fighting over something that was in the past now. It felt good, sitting next to Piper as her boyfriend and not just her best friend. It was sudden and my mind was still reeling, but I wouldn’t want it any other way. I walked her back to her dorm that night with a pout on my lips and our fingers tightly laced together.

“I don’t want to say goodbye, pea.” I mumbled, my thumb brushing against her cheek softly as we stood in front of her door. “Just got you.”

“You’ve always had me.” She snorted out a soft laugh.

“Never been able to make out with you, though.” I wiggled my brows. “Think we can finally carry through on all that sexual banter we’ve been partaking in.”

“Yeah.” She said quickly, her cheeks getting pinker. “But not tonight, H. Think we should take some time apart to think about things before we jump right in. It’s going to be a bit different now and I need to get used to the idea.”

“Take as much time as you need.” I pressed my lips to hers in a soft kiss. “I’ll be waiting.”

I was only slightly regretting my words now.

Everyone had left for Christmas and we had the house to ourselves.

We were in the middle of a movie marathon in the living room, a few bottles of wine and takeout boxes scattered on the coffee table as we snuggled into each other. Piper’s head rested on my chest and her fingers rested against my stomach, slightly drumming over the bit of holiday weight I had put on over the last week or so. She looked so cute all snuggled up in my sweater and a pair of fluffy sucks, my sweatpants tucked into them carelessly.

“You’re thinking too loud.” She whispered, lifting her head up. “What’s going on in your head, H?”

“Just thinking about how cute you are.” I smiled down at her. “You’re all snuggled up in my clothes with your pretty hair and your pretty eyes. I just can’t believe that I’m lucky enough to call you my girl.”

Her eyes searched my face as I reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I want you.” She said softly. “But I’m scared.”

“I wasn’t…” I trailed off. “M’not trying to get in your pants, sweet pea. I just wanted you to know that I’m so in love with you.”

“And I’m in love with you.” She sat up. “And I would really, really like to show you how much I love you.”

“When you’re ready.” I said. “I know that you didn’t have the best first time and you’re a little nervous to dive back in, but I can wait. I want you to be one hundred percent ready when the time comes.”

She inhaled sharply before giving me a soft nod.

“I love you.” I said, brushing my thumb over her bottom lip. “Get back over ‘ere, pea. Wanna snuggle you some more.”

🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️

Piper’s POV

Harry was snoring softly in my ear on the couch.

The sun had long gone down and the credits for The Holiday were rolling on the flatscreen in Harry’s living room. With a soft groan, I flipped around in his arms, nuzzling my face into his chest as he tightened his arms around me. The scent of his cologne filled my senses, nearly lulling me back to sleep. I was moments from falling back into dreamland when I felt something firm pressing between my thighs, causing my eyes to snap open. I pulled back to look at Harry’s face, his eyes still shut as he continued to softly snore. He was still fast asleep.

I let out a soft gasp, my walls clenching down as I shifted against his thigh. I let out a soft gasp, my fingers tightening against his sweater as I stilled my hips. I tilted my head back, looking over his face as he slept peacefully. I didn’t want to wake him, but was done waiting. I wanted him. I wanted everything with Harry and I especially wanted to indulge passion filled moments with frantic hands and desperate kisses with a christmas film playing in the background.

“Harry.” I said his name softly, my fingers trailing up his throat to cup his cheek. “Harry, baby, wake up.”

“S’wrong?” He asked, tucking his head down. “You alright?”

“I want you.” I said it softly, my heart pounding against my chest. “I’m ready.”

“Sweet pea, s’late.” He opened his eyes. “Are you sleep talkin’?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I mean it.”

I rolled my hips, grinding my core against his thigh to really send the message through.

“Piper.” He gasped, his eyes wide open. “Darling, what….what’re you doing?”

“Was trying to snuggle up to you and you put your thigh between my legs, H.” I said timidly, my face heating up under his gaze. His lips were curling into a soft smile and I bit the inside of my cheek. “It felt nice.”

“S’that why you want me?” He let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Needy girl.”

“Please.” I whispered. “I need you.”

“I’ve got ye’.” He leaned down, pressing a series of soft kisses to my lips. “Gonna push your pants down, okay?”

I nodded, but she shook his head.

“If we’re doing this, I want to hear you.” He said. “I need you to say what you want.”

“Take my pants off.” I griped, tilting my head back.

“Good girl.”

Two little words.

They sent a shockwave through my body, running straight to my core.

I let out a soft whimper as he pushed at the waistband of my pants.

“M’too tired to fuck you.” He said softly. “But I promise to make you feel so good, sweet pea. Gonna have you cummin’ fo’ me.”

“Please.”

I shifted my hips as he moved the waistband of my sweats to my thighs, his hand brushing up the skin of my leg to my hip. He gave it a soft squeeze as our lips collided and I squirmed beneath him. He pulled back, brushing his nose against mine with his eyes shut tight.

“Do you want my fingers?” He asked me softly.

“I do.” I nodded. “My fingers are too small and I can never get the angle right when I try.”

“Fuck, pea.” He groaned, opening his eyes. “You’re killing me, my love.”

“Just want to love you.” I pouted my bottom lip out. “Wanna feel good.”

“I know, darling.” He sponged a few soft kisses over my hairline. “Let me get on my back, okay. I want you to ride my fingers.”

Harry wrapped his arms around my body, turning onto his back. I fumbled, my chest pressed tightly to his as he let one of his hands trail over my bum. I whimpered when he tucked his fingers between the crease of my bum and my thigh, brushing the pads of his fingers over my lower lips. His other hand maneuvered its way between our bodies, his thumb brushing swiftly over my clit before it dipped towards my entrance.

“S’this okay?” He asked. “You feel comfortable?”

“Yes.” I nodded. “I’m good.”

He inserted his thumb, pulling it out quickly before he slipped it back up to my clit.

He rubbed soft circles over it as his fore and middle finger brushed over my entrance in a teasing manner.

I rolled my hips, desperate to have them inside of me.

“Yeah, just like that.” He said gruffly. “Ride my fingers, sweet pea. Take what you want from me.”

I gasped when he pushed two fingers into me, my slick walls stretching around them as I moved my hips. I pushed down as Harry curled his fingers up, stroking over that spongy spot inside of me. I moved my hips up, his fingers sliding out slowly before I fucked back onto them. He cooed, brushing the pad of his thumb over my clit in quick circles.

“You’re so tight, Piper.” He whispered into my hairline as I gripped onto his shoulders. “You’re clenching my fingers so tight.”

“Feels so good, Harry.” I whimpered. “Wanna cum.”

“Are you close?” He asked, a teasing lilt to his voice. “My girl is so greedy, isn’t she? Gonna cum before I properly fuck her with my fingers becuase she wants it so bad, isn’t that right?”

“Yes.” I gasped against his throat. “I need to cum, Harry. It feels so good and I can’t...I need it, baby. Please let me cum.”

“Take it.” He said, sliding his free hand up to my hip. “Take it from me, Piper. Make yourself cum for me sweet pea.”

I felt my thighs clamping as he pressed harder against my clit, my hips stilling against his hand as he stroked that spongy spot inside of me. I felt my walls clenching down around his digits, my whole body warm as my mouth fell open. It was better than any orgasm I had ever experienced on my own and it had me crying out into the skin of his neck. He brushed his hand up my back, slowly slipping my fingers out as I started to come down.

“You’re so good.” he whispered. “That was perfect, darling. Did so well for me, didn’t you, pea?”

“That was nice.” I mewled. “Thank you, thank you-”

“Gonna treat you so good tomorrow, darling.” He promised, a sharp edge to his voice. “Gonna spend hours with my head between those pretty thighs and then I’m gonna fuck you like you want. Gonna have you screaming for me, sweet pea.”

I whimpered into his neck, nodding.

“I want that.” I whispered.

My eyes felt heavy as he started to pull my pants back up.

“I love you so much, H.” I whispered, my eyes slipping shut as he covered me up. “Love you, darling.”

“I love you more, pea.” he whispered. “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

I drifted off to the sound of Harry’s voice, my face snuggling into his shirt.

This was all I ever needed.

#kaylee i hope you like this #stellarboystyles3years #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles frat au #harry styles frat boy #harry smut #harry writing #harry fluff #fray boy au #best friend #friends to lovers #bff!harry #fratboy!harry

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smallerinfinities · 4 years

Text

mad woman: iii (nessian)

a/n: *taps mic* does this thing still work? OH hey! hello! yes, this fic is properly old now and probably everyone thought I abandoned it but joke is on everyone including myself lmao...turns out I love these two..and after acosf well I would 10/10 die for them. so here we go! a ride to be sure! people do be getting naked!

warnings: 4.8k of smut (like woah). language. guilt.

Nesta wasn’t exactly sure what she was doing.

It had seemed like a good idea. Everyone in certain social circles knew the truth about Hewn City. Knew the dance club for the front it was for the shadowy bowels beneath. Here, she had thought yesterday morning, here she could be on even ground with him.

Him.

Cassian's hand was still in hers as she led them both down the long hallway toward room 3B. His words before hadn’t completely hidden his reactions to her clothes, her face, her body. She smiled to herself remembering the slight widening of his eyes. He probably thought he hadn’t reacted, but she knew. All men are weak. Just put on a dress and show some thigh and she knew she’d get his attention. Even if it was probably all for show. Cassian was a fine actor.

She thought back to four days ago. Or was it five, she thought. They had started to bleed together after the bender she’d gone on after wishing Cassian death on the phone with Amren.

Feyre was in her apartment for the second time in a week. An unprecedented occurrence. If the judgment in her eyes was any indication, she had come to check on things. Baby sister coming to her rescue. How rich. She stood on the carpet again, with her perfect heeled sandals and her tidy camel trench coat. Thankfully, she’d left the hat at home this time. Her arms were crossed tight against her chest as she surveyed the room.

“I see you’ve already made yourself at home again,” she observed, picking up a half-empty bottle of gin, “I’ll send Alis this afternoon.”

“I don’t want anyone else in my fucking apartment, Feyre,” Nesta cringed at the lingering slur in her voice.

“So you can drown yourself in this shit alone?” She held up an empty bottle of vodka in her other hand. “Nesta, it’s only been a few days since I was here the last time. Can you even stand right now?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Nesta sneered, settling back into the couch cushions. She couldn’t, but Feyre was a bitch for even asking, so she spat back, “At least I cope with my problems legally, High Lady.” In a fantasy world, smoke would have curled from her lips when she exhaled those last words.

Feyre stilled, breathing evenly. Nesta wasn’t sure if she was containing her rage or accepting the shame she had to be feeling.

“I see you gave Amren a call.”

“She didn’t tell you?” Nesta was surprised. Amren had seemed like one of Feyre’s inner circle, no matter how much money the High Lord and Lady may have given her.

“No, I told Amren that what you did with her number was your business,” she wrung her hands. She was….nervous. How odd. Feyre Archeron was a lot of things, but nervous was rarely one of them.

“Well,” Nesta exhaled, the anger fleeting like wind taken out of her sails, “yes, I called. Everything was very cryptic until someone showed up here who was not a therapist and started taking his clothes off. Honestly, what were you thinking, Feyre?!”

“I…” she hesitated, sinking down on the other end of the couch with Nesta, bracing her elbows on her knees, “I don’t know. I was desperate. I just want you to feel something again, Nes.” She hadn’t called her that since they were children. Nesta felt a little pang in her chest. I need another drink. “I know it’s...unconventional, but it really does help. Rhys and I...well, you know there’s a lot of stress involved in our lives.”

“So you fuck it out with strangers that you pay to keep silent??” Nesta asked incredulously.

“When you put it like that it sounds a lot seedier than it actually is, but,” she huffed, swallowing back some kind of emotion, “yes. There’s a lot of….relief, if you just give into it. Amren knows what she’s doing.”

“Are you and Rhys having problems?” It was the only explanation Nesta could understand for this. I mean it was one thing to hire a hooker if you weren’t getting any, but from the forced lunches and “sister dates” that Elain made the three of them go on, Feyre had always seemed to have a very active sex life.

“Oh, God, no,” Feyre visibly relaxed, caught off guard by even the implication. That made Nesta’s stomach relax. She hadn’t even realized she cared. “Rhys and I are fine, stronger even. There is power in giving up power, especially when you grapple with it on a daily basis. But this isn’t about me or Rhys.” Feyre leaned over and reached out to take Nesta’s hands, but stopped when Nesta visibly tensed at the mere idea of contact. “I’m really not lying when I say I think a little relief would help you.”

“Why do you insist I need help?” Nesta ground out through her teeth.

Feyre sighed and stood. There was something settling over her face, deep in her eyes. Sadness. “Suit yourself, sister.” She stood and, to Nesta’s surprise, took a swig from the half-empty gin bottle she’d pushed in Nesta’s face earlier. Her face screwed up in a grimace, “Jesus, how do you drink that shit?”

“I don’t even taste it anymore.” Nesta looked off, toward the window. Toward the empty corner where the wedding dress had hung for months. She’d taken it down that night after he had left.

That bone-deep sadness returned to Feyre’s eyes, “Alis will be here this afternoon.”

She left without another word.

Nesta sighed, catching Cassian’s attention, but she said nothing. She kept a steady flow of booze in her veins after Feyre left for three more days, sometimes just laying in bed for hours while the world spun. She saw Tomas, saw Elain, but most often she saw hazel eyes and bold, dark lines inked across a broad, tanned chest. Those were the torturous hours, when the desire would rise in her, when she would feel something just like Feyre said. Even if it made her soul burn. He was haunting her. He’d left her alone, angry and wet, for what? Because she refused to accept his “help”? Wasn’t this all just fucking anyway? What difference did it make how she responded?

The frustration had overwhelmed her until she finally realized that it didn’t matter how much she drank, he wouldn’t go away. She couldn’t chase him into a whiskey-soaked oblivion like she could the memories of her fiancé and her sister. He was real. He was still breathing. He was making her life a living hell.

He was going to pay for it.

So, she’d called Amren back. Had made him meet her here of all places. Had put on a dress and a pair of heels and more makeup than she’d been planning to wear at her own wedding. A costume. A mask. If he was going to “help” her, at least it wouldn’t seem like her that he was helping. She’d fuck him out of her life on her terms. Just once wouldn’t damn her to hell, right?

Nesta had never been to Hewn City before. Clubbing had never been her style. She was more of a library, bookworm kind of girl. But now that she was here, she kind of liked the secrecy of it all, the discretion everyone had whispered about. It made her feel like a character in one of her books, a different kind of escape than booze offered, with the rouge-tinted lights and shadowy, padded hallways. She could be anyone here. She would be anyone here. Anyone but herself.

“I think this is it,” Cassian’s deep rumble sounded behind her. They stopped in front of a painted black door, the marker flickering “3B” in the light of the candle sconce behind them. Nesta fit the key into the lock and turned it.

The room was cooler than the hall, but she wasn’t sure the temperature was what made her break out in gooseflesh. There was a massive four-poster bed in the center of the room covered in black satin sheets drawn back against a deep crimson comforter. Only a handful of hanging exposed bulbs lit the space, giving the boudoir decoration some industrial finishes. It was like a scene out of some vampire film noir. The light reflecting off heavy restraint cuffs at each corner of the bed only heightened the effect. A dark armoire loomed in the corner. Nesta was sure that if she opened it, she would find any number of instruments with which to tease and taunt Cassian with. This place was a sex dungeon and she had paid to be a mistress tonight.

Cassian’s mistress.

Nesta took a deep breath and settled into this new character, some confident woman who knew exactly what she wanted and knew exactly how to take it from a willing participant. She sauntered over to the foot of the bed and leaned back against it to look at him. He was so quiet tonight, looking around the room like she had, taking it all in.

“Cat got your tongue?” Nesta proded.

“No,” he hesitated, stuffing his hands into his front pockets like an embarrassed school boy rocking forward on his toes. It only lasted for a second before he hid it behind a smirk, “no, just a little….confused?”

“About what?” She crossed her feet at the ankle and let the deep slit on her dress fall open, revealing almost every inch of her long legs. His eyes widened momentarily before he cleared his throat. Was he….nervous?

“Well, uhh,” he was stammering now, the false bravado unable to keep up with the situation unfolding in front of him, “if I’m being honest, I’m not sure what to do.”

“You mean, Cassian, self-proclaimed sex therapist, doesn’t know what to do?” The teasing in her voice blushed his cheeks pink, “well, color me surprised. I thought it would have been clear by now.”

“It’s not that it’s...you’re…” he cocked his head, “different.” His eyes followed every inch of bare skin from her painted toe to the top of the slit an inch below her hip. “Something changed.”

Why does he make this so damn difficult?

“Yes, well,” she replied, biting her bottom lip for effect, “I decided that I want you to help me.” His head straightened.

“Do you?” He crossed his arms over his broad chest, emphasizing the size of his biceps. His nervous energy cooled in seconds, giving way to something else, something that had been simmering beneath the ice.

“I do,” she slipped back a little farther onto her palms, tilting her head back. She was a predator, setting a pretty, needy trap for him. If he got off on a savior complex, she’d play the part until she got what she wanted. “I just want to feel normal again.” She smiled internally as she watched her words wash over him. Watched him take a few deep breaths, watched him move for the first time since they walked in the room.

He kept his body closed, his arms a barrier between the two of them, as he stalked forward. Nesta stopped breathing, feeling his gaze shift from confusion and questions to calculated assessment. He paused in front of her and bent down, his hands sinking into the mattress on either side of her slim waist. The space between them was thinner than the air atop the mountains in Illyria.

“I think…” he looked her in the eye, no blinking, no touching, just a wisp of mint from his mouth, “that’s a load of bullshit.”

A rush of fury, so white hot it blinded her, licked down her arm. She raised her open hand and ripped it through the air.

Only to be caught in an iron grip.

“Ah, ah, dear Nesta,” his lips curled up on one side, “I like a little pain with my pleasure, but not without my consent.”

All she could do was stare him down as she huffed, imagining the breath leaving her nostrils in puffs of hot smoke. A caged dragon in pretty clothes begging to get out. But hell would freeze over before she moved first. She could feel the tension between them, feel the electricity pulsing through him where his fist gripped her wrist. Maybe it was her pheromone-laced delusion but she thought he might want this as much as she did. He wanted her challenge, her adamant wall. He wanted to break her, remake her. Little did he know that you can’t break what’s already broken.

Just a character, just a role to play...

“Oh, come on, Cassian,” she tried to free her hand but he remained hard as stone around her wrist. He hadn’t pinned her legs though. She slid one bare leg up the inside seam of his jeans. The muscles flexed and contracted underneath the well-fit fabric, higher and higher, until she reached the apex. He hissed. A feline smile spread across her face when she felt it, felt him, hard and begging for her. “I think you want this a little more than you’re willing to admit, more than you’re allowed to admit.”

His nostrils flared, barely imperceptible, but even the smallest changes in him drew her notice. Why? It was a question she didn’t want to even ask herself, but it kept coming, night and day. Why did this night feel like the edge of a dangerous cliff? Why did his agreement to come tonight feel like more than just a business arrangement? Why did the tension between them feel like her only anchor to this life? She pressed harder into him, needing to move, to get this over with, to fuck him right out of her head.

“Nesta.” His voice brought her back from those questions that haunted her like the inked lines hidden underneath his t-shirt. So close now, so close to her fingers, her mouth. She looked up at him, aware of her knee still cradled between his legs.

“Cassian.” Her voice practically sang. The song of his own personal siren.

He was so still. If he hadn’t said her name she wouldn’t have been sure he was even breathing. He placed his hand between his groin and her knee and stepped backward. His pupils were wide, endless pools, black as tar and eating at the hazel surrounding them. He was drunk on the lust, drowning in it just like she was.

“Take off that dress before I rip it off.”

A bone-deep shiver ran from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes at the command, reaching back up to settle between her thighs. She flushed from the heat of his gaze on her skin as she stood, reaching behind her neck to loose the three pearl buttons between her pride and her desire. Fuck it. The dress pooled at her feet.

The corner of her lip tugged upward when she heard his breath catch. She wasn’t wearing anything under the dress. Lingerie had felt like too much and her regular cotton cheekies would have been too conspicuous beneath her close-fitting dress, so nothing had been the only choice. The right choice if Cassian’s jeans had anything to say about it, clearly growing tighter by the second.

Nesta backed herself onto the bed again, digging in with her heels to push herself toward the headboard as gracefully as she could while burning alive. And she was burning under his gaze. Every flick of his dilated pupils, from her bare legs, to her full breasts, to her smooth stomach, to her glistening cunt, she burned. When her head thudded against the carved cherry wood headboard, his eyes finally met hers. A low growl sounded in the back of his throat.

“See something you want, Cassian?” she asked, struggling to keep her tone innocent, indifferent.

“Depends, Nes.” She ignored the heat that pooled at the nickname, especially when he said, “what are you offering?”

She bit her lip at his words. And spread her knees open for him. Now, come and take it.

He went wholly still as pink creeped into his tan cheeks. He was fucking blushing at her cunt on display for him. A filthy thought entered her head and before she could shut it down, she reached between her legs and traced a finger over her slit. The low lights flickered in the reflection off the wetness laced there before her finger disappeared….

Right between Nesta’s wine-colored lips.

His eyes tracked that finger in and out of her mouth as she sucked and swirled her tongue around it, moaning at the taste of her arousal, the eroticism of the gesture. She released her finger with a pop and smiled wickedly at him.

“Want to taste?”

Cassian moved swift as a thunderclap, as if her words were paddles jumpstarting his heart into quick, heavy beats. He pulled off his shirt. Those thick, black lines of ink that haunted her dreams were on full display, curling around his biceps and across his broad shoulders. She wanted to trace them with her tongue, taste the salt on his skin. He didn’t bother with some cliché striptease. His fingers fumbled with his belt, fumbled with the top button and zipper of those tight jeans. He tripped out of them, splaying his hands across the rumpled comforter as he kicked his pants somewhere across the room, losing his shoes and socks at some point between.

She would have smirked at the clumsiness, questioned his self-proclaimed prowess as a sex therapist, if her throat hadn’t gone completely dry at the size of him. Even through his underwear there was no mistaking it—massive, just like every inch of the rest of his body. Of course, he had a cock to match.

He grinned, following her eyes, guessing her train of thought. The bed dipped as he crawled toward her, full prince of cats on display again. A man who knew what people saw when they looked at him and enjoyed that power, that raw sexual energy dripping from his every pore. With that glint in his eye, she was happy to play along—for now.

Every thread in the expensive duvet cover beneath her set a thousand sparks rocketing across her skin. His movements were measured, purposefully kept from touching her skin. He was so close she could feel the warmth radiating off of him with every inch forward, every inch toward where she wanted him. All of him. His fingers, his mouth, his cock. Nesta started to fidget with anticipation, ready for him to spread her open and take, take, take, but she wouldn’t beg. Wouldn’t reach or claw or whimper, no matter how much she wanted to.

Feyre might be paying, but she would own him before the end. Even if she had to sacrifice her soul to do it.

When his mouth finally made contact with her skin, a whisper of a kiss along the inside of her thigh, it was a struggle not to moan. Loud. She was strung tighter than a bowstring and he knew. Her traitor body was going to beg for him with or without words, so she opened her mouth instead.

“Gonna fuck me senseless, Cassian?”

His head jerked up from between her thighs, that feline smile turning her molten. “You know, Nesta. I think I’ll shut you up instead.”

Someone as big as he was shouldn’t have been able to move that fast. Shouldn’t have been able to cover her entire body with his and claim her mouth between one second and the next. His hands curled behind her neck to pull her firmly to him and devoured her. Their tongues clashed, dancing together, as she moaned into his mouth. Whether it was surprise or pleasure or both that pulled it from her, she wasn’t sure. The mint and adrenaline still laced his tongue, this time with a natural smokiness that she hadn’t noticed before. He licked at her, sucked at her lower lip. She nipped at him, teeth as much a weapon as her words, her hands. She dragged her nails down his naked back and drew a hiss from him, maybe some blood too if the tang of iron was any indication.

It only spurred him.

“You know these lips taste better when they’re not liquor-stained,” he panted. He studied her face, she knew it must be flushed from his kiss, and slowly ground his hips into hers, with the same bruising intensity he claimed her mouth, drenching himself in her through the thin fabric of his underwear. Those really need to disappear. Her fingers continued their violent path down his back to the waistband of his boxer briefs, the only barrier left between everything she wanted. Wanted, never needed. They danced around to the front of him and sought purchase.

Another moan, loud and throaty filled the space between them.

My God.

“Off, off, off, off,” she was chanting when he finally released her mouth to move down to her neck, surely to mark her like she’d marked his back. It was going to be tit for tat with him. “OFF,” she clawed at his hips. He raised up and smirked at her.

“You just have to ask, Nes.” His lips curled to the side, “maybe say please.”

She held his gaze. Please. It was a chant in her head but she couldn’t say it. He saw it there, the challenge, the struggle, but this was a battle of wills. And Cassian was a seasoned general.

He ducked his head and nosed at her jaw, along her throat, peppering her skin with close-mouthed kisses. “Just say the word,” he ground into her again, not nearly the friction she wanted. His hands found her peaked breasts and traced her nipples, slow circles at first, then quick pinches accented by his teeth at her throat. There was no pattern, no guessing, no preparation. Every nerve ending was a live wire, screaming for his touch.

Nesta Archeron was going to die here. The flames in her belly were going to consume her and she was going to die at a high-priced sex club. And maybe she should. It might be worth it. Rhysand would never live it down. She wouldn’t sacrifice her pride for an orgasm. But, as his hips did another slow roll against hers and he scraped at her neck with his teeth, her resolve imploded.

“Please,” she croaked. She felt his smile against her skin.

“What was that?”

“Please,” she said a little louder, still barely a whisper.

“That’s awfully quiet, Nesta,” he licked at her collarbone and made her eyes roll back into her head. “Makes me think you don’t really want it.”

“Please,” she repeated, her head thrashing, “please, PLEASE.”

“Okay, okay,” he pushed up to lean back on his heels above her. “No need to shout.” The tease in his voice forced an impatient growl from her. He cocked an eyebrow as he toyed with the elastic waistband on his underwear, slowly pulling it down below the defined V set low on his abdomen, revealing inch after inch of smooth, tanned skin, until finally they were gone and there was nothing left between them but sexual tension and a promise of release.

Her eyes raked down his muscled body, unable to keep her hand from reaching to touch the hard planes of his chest and abdomen, reaching lower. His fingers wrapped around her wrist.

“Uh, uh, princess,” her cheeks flamed as he lifted her hand to his lips and left a tender kiss on her palm, “it’s my turn.”

She blinked and his mouth was on her. His hair, tufted at the back of his head, bobbed between her legs as he lapped up the wetness that had been pooling since they started their games tonight. Since he first leaned against her door frame, if she was being honest with herself. His lips wrapped around her clit and when he moaned around her, she saw stars. Her toes curled. Her fingers buried themselves in his hair. Her knees bent to capture his head forever between her thighs but he caught them before she could crush him with the force of her pleasure.

It might have been hours, days. He held her spread open and licked and suckled and fucked her entrance with his tongue. Careful, slow strokes to stoke the fire ripping through her veins but not enough to send her to her peak. Her thighs began shaking; her fingers knotted into his hair and held his mouth against her. His name was a holy chant in this unholy place.

“Cassian,” she sobbed as a tear rolled down her temple and into her sweat-soaked hair.

He groaned and release ripped through her. Waves of pleasure locked her body in a silent scream, her head tilted back and her mouth wide open. He kept stroking her through it, his tongue undulating against her clit over and over as her body jerked involuntarily once, twice before relaxing completely, melting into a warm, soft puddle of flesh.

There were no words. No thoughts. Nothing inside her head except for the truth of it. No one has ever made her feel like that, forced that kind of pleasure from her. Her harsh breaths were the only sound in the room as Cassian traced patterns on her inner thigh. She blinked furiously, clearing her eyes of any emotions that might betray her. Looking down, she caught his eye and his answering smile made her forget her own name.

He was looking up at her, his cheeks pink from the heat and pressure between her thighs. His hair was a fucked out mess. He looked...content. As if her orgasm was all he wanted, like he could do it again and again and not care if she ever touched his cock even though she’d never wanted anything more in her life.

But...what if he doesn't want that?

She tensed suddenly. He was an escort after all. This wasn’t his choice. What if all of this is just an act? She knew she shouldn’t care. She was a paying customer and shouldn’t care what he wanted. What his desires were. She should just take her pleasure, satiate her own desire, and leave. That had been the plan when she came here. Hell, she had just been acting when this all started.

Until he gave her the best orgasm of her entire fucking life. Until he called her on her bullshit, got naked, and got on his knees for her. Until he made her gasp his name and fucking cry for the privilege.

This was wrong. She shouldn’t—couldn’t—

I don’t deserve this.

Her breath caught in her throat. I need to get out of here.

She sat up so quickly her head spun. Her fingers caught on the restraints attached to the headboard and she recoiled. What am I doing? Why did I think this was a good idea? Cassian jerked up from between her legs at the motion, the perfect window for her to rip her legs from his vicinity and swing them to the floor.

“Nesta, what’s wrong?”

She heard him, confused, still panting, but she couldn’t find the words to answer him. The panic was bitter, the taste in stark relief to Cassian’s tongue. Stop! Where is my fucking dress? Her head swiveled frantically. A slip of navy stuck out from under the armoire in the corner. She lurched forward, grabbing and pulling on the dress that barely covered her ass, left nothing to the imagination. What have I done?

“Nesta, what is happening?” Cassian was louder this time. Loud enough to draw her eyes. He was leaning on one elbow, wide-eyed and still painfully hard. At this angle, she could see the angry red marks across his shoulder, darkening with dried blood in some places. A damning souvenir for what she had done. A claiming.

She couldn’t ignore the voice in her head. A betrayal.

“Was—” he sat up and leaned on his knees, “was it not good?” Some unfamiliar emotion danced across his eyes as he waited. She stared and stared and stared. “Did I—“ he kept hesitating, “did I not make you feel good?”

It was the doubt, thick and traitorous, in his voice that made her silently turn around and walk out the door.

------ *runs away*

tags: @sleeping-and-books @greerlunna @sjmships @cupcakey00 @queenestarcheron @awesomelena555 @mysticalunicole @lordof-bloodshed @courtofjurdan

#acotar #acosf #acotar fic #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #sjm #sarah j maas #nessian #nessian fic #nessian au #acotar au #acotar smut #my writing

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idreamofplaid · 4 years

Text

Hidden

Square Filled: Director AU for @spnfluffbingo & Ugly Christmas Sweaters for @spnchristmasbingo

Characters: Jared x Reader; Britney (OFC)

Rating: Mature

Summary: The reader thinks it’s better if she and Jared keep their relationship a secret; he disagrees.

Word Count: 3864

Created for @spnfluffbingo & @spnchristmasbingo

“Come to my place tonight?” Jared was looking down at the script in his hands while he talked, pretending to be asking you something about how he should deliver his lines.

You swirled the plastic stirrer in your coffee and took a sip, trying to make the exchange look as businesslike as possible to anyone who might be observing. “We agreed we wouldn’t do that anymore, Jared, not until after filming is done, and we’re in post production.”

You pointed to a line on his script as though you were making a suggestion. “If anyone found out, you know how people gossip. They’d say you slept with me to get this part.”

Jared closed his script. “So, let them.” For a second, you thought he was going to make a move, come closer to you. Touch you. God, how you wanted that, especially today.

All day long, you hadn’t been able to get your mind off the sex scene that was scheduled to be filmed that afternoon. Here, right in the middle of this light hearted, feel good, movie was one of the steamiest sex scenes you’d ever read, or maybe that was just because you were picturing Jared in it.

It was a challenge to remain professional and not let jealousy take control of you. An actress was about to crawl into bed, basically naked with him, while he put his hands and lips all over her. Weren’t these kinds of movies supposed to be about laughter, finding yourself, maybe helping some people? Who said anything about sex?

The next time you saw Jared, he’d be wearing nothing but a sock to cover his most private parts; and that woman, the tall thin example of what society called physical perfection with the full pouty lips and long glossy hair, would be topless and waving her boobs in his….

With that thought, you tightly squeezed your hands around the copy of the script you were holding until it was starting to fold and crease. “Y/N, are you okay?”

Your answer was crisp and to the point. “Jared, you need to go get ready for the next scene. Hair and makeup will need some time with you.” You didn’t state the obvious, that wardrobe wasn’t much of a factor.

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

It had taken you a good part of your life to come to terms with the fact that you were not classically beautiful. You had relied on that old “eye of the beholder” cliche, understanding that objectively you were not the woman that men turned to stare at when you walked into a room. You’d finally come to accept that, even though deep inside every girl wants to feel pretty.

The most devastating blow had come when you’d fallen in love with acting. It didn’t take long to realize you would never be the leading lady. Naively, you had auditioned for parts like that, thinking talent would get you one of those roles. The result was, after a number of rejections, you felt unattractive and resigned to the fact that your future in this industry was behind the camera.

That’s where you were now, checking the framing and angles for the shot. The set had been cleared of all but essential personnel due to the nature of the upcoming scene. It was unusually quiet except for the thoughts raging in your head. It still stung that you weren’t “the beautiful one”. That long present wound was enough to give doubt about your blossoming relationship all the fertile soil it needed in which to grow.

Maybe Jared was flirting with you, taking you to his bed, trying to get close to you because it would help his career. Your heart didn’t believe that because he was one of the most genuine and down to earth people you’d ever met in this business, but insecurity was a nasty bitch. Add to his sincerity the fact that he didn’t seem to be aware of just how gorgeous he was, remaining modest every time any sort of reference was made to his good looks. In many ways, he was too good to be true, and that’s why your head was telling you not to trust what was happening between you.

When he walked onto the set wearing nothing but a robe and the sock you knew was underneath, it only reinforced the out of control thoughts shooting through your mind and landing like daggers in your heart. You were definitely feeling more for him than it was wise to feel. What had been occurring between you was a dalliance, a fling. It was secret meetings for hot sex. Secret. Nothing could come of that. It was time to stop thinking that it might.

It was no wonder you were struggling, trying to stop yourself from falling for him. Jared had taken control of the room without even trying as soon as he entered it. Even among actors, he was tall and well built. His muscles were attention grabbing, even under his clothes. His hair skimmed the top of his shoulders and had just enough wave in it that it almost defiantly refused to stay out of his face. It begged to be touched, and it would be very soon, just not by your fingers.

Maybe it was his eyes that had lured you into this deep pool of confusing feelings and conflicting emotions. Of all his notable assets, his eyes had to be the best. They were unpredictable. Sometimes they were full of sunshine, flecked in gold or painted with a starburst of color through his iris that resembled a flower blooming. Other times, the shadows and the depth took over, and they became stormy gray with a flash of blue like the color of the sky when it was illuminated by lightning.

He was looking at you with those incredible and surprising eyes now. Today they were a classic hazel, light even brown. You almost forgot what you were doing until Jared asked, “Where do you want me?”

It would be easier to tell him what you wanted him to do before she got here, so that was the approach you took. “Take off your robe and get in the bed under the covers.”

It was hard not to look when Jared untied his robe, flipped it back over his shoulders, and let it drop to the floor. His shoulders were broad, and his stomach was flat except for the well defined abs that swelled, leaving dips and valleys between them. You tried not to let your eyes drop below his waist, but they did. You darted them back up quickly. Be professional. Maintain focus. It was nothing you hadn’t seen before, but in this setting it was different. It made you a touch self conscious and overly aware of his physique.

He was huge. That scrap of material he was wearing couldn’t hide that, and it certainly didn’t keep you from remembering the times he had stretched you to the point of a pleasurable scream while he thrust deeply into you. Today was going to be even more difficult than you had imagined.

Once he was under the sheets, you breathed a little easier. Jared looked to you for direction. Time to do your job and keep your personal feelings out of it. “When Britney gets here, I want you to get on top of her.” Well, you’d managed to choke that out and make your voice sound normal. “We’re starting more or less in the middle of the scene, none of the foreplay. It should be hot and intense from the second I call action.”

Jared arranged the sheet around his waist just so, like it wasn’t going to move. It did call attention to the way the stark white of the sheet complimented his skin tone, and made you think back to the last time you’d seen him naked in bed. That was when he first suggested you come out of the shadows, go on dates, be a couple. When the bed linens were arranged to his liking, he looked to you and asked, “What’s my motivation for this scene?”

It wasn’t an unusual question for an actor to ask a director, but part of you wondered if Jared was asking you to see what you’d say. Was it more flirting to get you to talk about sex and attraction? You looked directly into his stunning eyes and responded, “You’ve been denying your attraction for weeks now. You work together, so that makes it complicated. In the office, you haven’t been able to keep your eyes off each other. Your sexual tension has reached a peak, and it’s exploding right here.” You gave the bed a pat for emphasis, then realized what you’d said.

You felt yourself start to flush and kept on talking to try to cover it up. “Bring some intensity to it, but keep it tender. You’re falling in love, but you’re not ready to say it. Show her with the way you touch her.” Your eyes met, and something unspoken passed between you.

Jared was about to speak, but then Britney arrived on set in a flourish. Her makeup artist was trailing behind her, making some final touch ups. She made a big show of disrobing, exposing her breasts to the remaining crew. They gawked and stared, just as she intended. You did your best not to roll your eyes into the back of your head.

Unlike the others, Jared hadn’t paid any attention to her. His eyes were still focused on you; that unspoken thing was still in them, and there would be no chance to say it now. Britney climbed right into bed with him without any instruction from you and had the nerve to start flirting with him right in front of your face. She didn’t know what you were feeling. That was, after all, the point. You didn’t want anyone to have any idea there was anything going on between Jared and you. Or, maybe she did suspect and was being sadistic about it. Women had a way of seeing things men failed to see.

Whether Britney knew or not, she wouldn’t care how you or anyone else felt about it. She was that girl, the one who thought about herself at all times. Romance between co-stars was good press that typically guaranteed increased media attention for the project and both parties involved. The studio would love it. Hell, they’d probably even encourage it. Scratch that. They would encourage it.

The next couple of hours were excruciating. Love scenes were some of the hardest to film under the best of circumstances. Every detail was important: the lighting, the camera angles, and most important body positioning. They competed with fight scenes in terms of difficulty to film. You would have much preferred a fight scene.

For two hours you told Jared how to kiss another woman. “Tug on her bottom lip with your mouth. Be tender.” At one point you had physically taken hold of his hand and placed it where it would look best for the camera. It made you ready to run out of your own skin, escape in any way possible, be swallowed up by the floor beneath your feet.

It was even worse telling her how to touch him. “Slide your hands down his back. Dig your fingers in a little.” This resulted in the sheet that was covering the lower half of his body sliding down far enough to show just a hint of butt cleavage, and it looked good. You would leave it in the final cut.

Mercifully, you finally got the takes you wanted and called it a wrap for the day. You gathered your things together and made your way to your car as quickly as you could, hardly even saying good night to anyone as you breezed by them to make your exit.

As you approached your car, you hit the button on the remote. The familiar beep greeted your ears, letting you know that soon you would be surrounded by the warmth of the car’s interior. When the December Canadian air was frigid like this, you had to take a moment to remind yourself it was far preferable to the superficial fishbowl of LA.

Just as you touched the door handle, you heard the crunch of someone jogging through the snow. Couldn’t you be left alone ever? No doubt whatever this was could have waited until tomorrow, but being available to the cast and crew was one of the responsibilities of being the director.

As you took a deep breath and tried to put an expression of patient interest on your face before you turned around, Jared’s voice carried across the cold winter air to your ears. “Y/N, wait.”

This required an even deeper breath before you turned around. He was barely breathing any heavier after running through the snow. That wasn’t surprising considering the shape he was in, but you were surprised he was chasing after you. Randomly, you thought he must’ve gotten dressed really quickly. It was probably your brain’s way of protecting you from deeper thoughts, but Jared wasn’t going to let you off that easily.

“I was hoping we could talk before you go.” He just really had no idea, did he? It was hard watching him with another woman, even if it was fake, when it was getting harder and harder to pretend your encounters with him were just casual affairs. It was more difficult to convince yourself you were fine with being his secret, even if it had been your idea.

“Jared, I’m really tired. I just want to go home, okay? We can talk later.” You wished you could tell him the true reason you felt so tired, wanting more than anything to find comfort and reassurance in his arms. Somehow it felt even worse to hide yourself and your feelings from him.

He didn’t say anything else, just nodded, took a couple steps back, and watched you get in your car. As soon as you started the car, holiday music filled the interior. Immediately, you turned off the radio in no mood for the cheerfulness. In your rearview mirror, you could see Jared. He hadn’t moved. He was still standing there, watching you go. Unwanted tears of frustration and confusion pooled in your eyes. You brushed them away so you could see the road.

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

Once home, you put on your favorite pajamas and started a fire in the fireplace. A wood burning fireplace was one feature you had insisted on when looking for a home in Vancouver. The rowhouse you finally purchased had a charming one, made even more so by the garland and Christmas stockings hanging from the mantel. You’d put up a row of stockings, never mind you didn’t need them; it looked better that way.

You settled in among the decorative pillows in holiday colors and plaid on the sofa, pulling one of them onto your lap and hugging it close while you listened to the crackle of the fire and watched the flames sway. It lulled you and took some of the edge off the day. Your mind was drifting to a better place when your doorbell rang.

Reluctantly, you rose from your comfy spot. You opened your front door to find Jared standing there wearing one of the most ridiculous looking Christmas sweaters you’d ever seen. It was green, covered in tinsel garland and shiny three dimensional ball ornaments. It was surprising enough he was standing there, but what he was wearing left you a tiny bit baffled and slightly amused.

It was impossible not to smile when you took in the details of the sweater again. You asked, “Jared, why are you here, and why are you wearing that?” He responded by showing you his dimples, and your own smile got bigger. You could feel more of your bad mood melting away, and you were overtaken by the urge to reach out and play with one of the ornaments on his sweater.

Instead of answering, he held out a box he was holding. It was wrapped in gold paper and had one of those peel and stick bows on top of it. You held out your hands and took it, noticing the box was reasonably well wrapped. He had really tried, and that touched you.

“What is this?” His expression was pleased but subdued.

“I got you something.” A smile spread across his face, dispelling any reservations he may have had. Whatever was in that package, he was clearly excited about it.

Beneath the gold paper, there was a white box the size of a shirt box. You lifted the lid; inside there was a sweater that wasn’t quite as over the top as Jared’s, but it was definitely in the ugly Christmas sweater category. It was red with falling snow and candy canes on it.

You looked at him, a questioning expression on your face. “What are the sweaters about?”

Jared took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I want you to wear it at the studio Christmas party, and I want you to go with me. Will you?”

You saw the hope in his eyes while he waited to hear what you’d say. His words were sinking in, but did he understand what this could do to his reputation? “Jared, everyone will know.”

He glanced down at the floor and ran his hand through his hair. When he raised his head, his eyes found yours. The hope that had been there earlier had been replaced by determination. “I want them to know, Y/N. We aren’t doing anything wrong.” He cupped your face in his hand and brushed his thumb softly across your cheek. “I know what today did to you.”

“Jared, I…” You didn’t know what to say, but it didn’t matter because his mouth cover yours. You dropped the box you were holding and wrapped your arms around him, losing yourself in the kiss. With his hand on your waist, Jared pulled you closer to him. All the reassurance you had longed for earlier, you found.

While still kissing you, Jared lifted you into his arms and started to walk down the hallway toward your bedroom. You broke the kiss and buried your face in the side of his neck while he walked, breathing in the smell of him.

Jared rarely wore cologne, and you were glad he didn’t, preferring that nothing mask the smell of him. The lingering hint of his soap on his freshly washed skin was comforting to you. You could smell the soap mingling with his skin now. Tears oozed gently from the corners of your eyes. He had showered before he came to you, erasing her scripted touch from his body.

He put you down gently on the bed and took off the brightly colored sweater he was wearing along with the t-shirt underneath before taking his place on top of you. You kissed his bare shoulder, wanting to leave some mark of you on him. It was the only signal he needed to start undressing you and kissing you in return.

His lips were warm on the pulse point at your neck, your collarbone, and your breasts. His hands moved over every part of your body, stroking and bringing you to a heightened state of arousal. By the time he took off his pants, you were nearly begging for him. “Jared, I need you.”

He hovered over you, his face only inches from yours. He looked into your eyes and laced his fingers through yours. “I’ve got you, Y/N. I’ll take care of you.”

Jared made love to you slowly. He took his time and satisfied every need that was crying out from deep within you. He knew how to make you feel beautiful, knew how to make your body shake with the intensity of release, and knew how to make you feel safe after you’d opened yourself to him completely and were feeling both satisfied and vulnerable.

You lay in his arms, your head on his chest. Jared was dragging his fingers slowly up and down your back. After a few minutes of silence, feeling the moment together, he kissed the top of your head and asked, “Could you feel it?”

You smiled, still drifting in the safe bubble he had made for you. “I felt a lot of things.”

He kissed the top of your head again and let his chin rest there. “When I touched you, could you feel that I love you?”

Your heart started to beat faster, and you raised your head to look at him. “I love you, Y/N. That’s why I don’t want to hide anymore. I want everybody to know it.”

You traced the firm line of his jaw with your fingertip. “Jared...I love you too, but that wouldn’t be good for you.”

He sat up a little and put his hands on your shoulders. “How do you know? It wouldn’t be the first time an actor and a director were together.”

“I don’t ever want anyone to question your talent, Jared.” Your heart was full of so many things, the truth of the words you’d just exchanged along with the fear those words evoked.

His hands moved from your shoulders to the sides of your face. He held your face in his hands, his eyes pleading with you. “And I don’t ever want you to question how much I love you.” He dropped his hands, keeping just one under your chin to ensure you would keep looking into his eyes. “I saw what today did to you, how hard it was; but do you know what it did to me?”

No. You had no idea, hadn’t given it a thought. How could you have ignored his feelings? All you could say was “What?”

He had the most serious and pain filled expression you’d ever seen on his face. “I don’t want other women to come on to me in front of you, knowing what that’s doing to you, and not even be able to brush them off because this is a secret.” He let his hand drop from beneath your chin, trusting your eyes wouldn’t leave his now. “It hurt me to see how much you were hurting.”

“Jared, I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

He covered your lips with his fingers and shook his head. “And I was so proud of you for working right through that hurt to put something on film that will make other people happy, that will make them believe in love. It doesn’t matter that what you were showing wasn’t real. Love is real. Ours is real.”

He kissed you before you could cry again. When the kiss ended, you rested your forehead against his. “You’re right. It is real, and we shouldn’t hide it. I don’t want to hide it anymore.”

Jared’s hand was in your hair, holding the back of your head. He was so close, you could feel him breathing. “You mean more to me than anything, Y/N. You always will.”

Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @onethirstyunicorn @peridottea91 @logical-princey @emilyshurley @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @shaniquacynthia @mariekoukie6661 @tumbler-tidbits @67-chevy-baby @fandom-princess-forevermore @terrarium-jpeg @emoryhemsworth @crashdevlin @heycasbutt @jules-1999 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @mrs-meghan-winchester @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @lonewolf471 @dawnie1988 @volleyballer519 @outcastedangel @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @sorenmarie87 @winchesterxfamilybusiness

Sam/Jared: @girl-next-door-writes @stunudo @feelmyroarrrr @sammit-janet @idabbleincrazy @evansrogerskitten @focusonspn @autumninavonlea @spnxbsessed @durinsbride @deansyahtzee @wendibird @waywardnerd67 @fullmooner @julesthequirky

#spnfluffbingo #spnchristmasbingo #jared fluff #jared angst #jared x reader #spn rpf

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years

Text

KEEPING UP WITH THE ARIZAS

Michael “Riz” Ariza x Reader

Chapter 6: “The first date: first attempt”

Word Count: 2.3k

Author comments: Warning of some angst, and I'm not even sorry. This work wasn't re-edited, so I'm sorry if you find grammar mistakes! I hope you all enjoy. Gif isn't mine, more or less 'cause I cut it to keep Antonio's part, but credits to the author.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 @chibsytelford @dazzledamazon @mara-mpou @sammskellington @gemini0410 @1-800-imagines @briana-mishell24 @sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @xx--day-dreamer--xx @spiced-reads @leaalfred ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

“I can't believe you're gonna actually do'et”.

Your father appeared from nowhere, resting a shoulder on the door frame, cross-armed. He looked at you from top to bottom, rolling his eyes with a snort, while you put your makeup on point with a red lipstick. The rest was somewhat light, but you needed to highlight your lips, one of your best attributes.

“Do what, dad?”

“Trying to ask Riz out”.

“Why?” You inquired turning at him, with both hands supported on the edge of the sink, twisting your neck some inches to the right.

“'Cause he's my friend, my brother”.

“Then, I just have to kill you. Which is a good idea 'cause he could feel guilty for god knows why, so he would want to take care of me. Maybe live together at the ran—”.

“He's older than you. And not even his type”.

“The encouragement you give me… Wao, papá!”

“I'm trying to protect you”.

“Well, thank you. I don't need it, okay? I've been preparing myself since I have fifteen. And… shouldn' you let me commit my own mistakes?”

“Good. I don' wanna hear you cry after him laughing at this… bullshit”.

Those last words felt like a knife stabbing your chest. Almost five years working on it. Trying to be his friend, losing your ass even when he was simply breathing close to you, taking interest in whatever he could be doing (...). It wasn't only a physical attraction. You really found him very intelligent, funny, hard-working and loyal. And it could sounds bad, but sometimes you wished to be one of Vicki's girl, because of the much care he had with them. Almost five years working on it, arming yourself of courage, just to see how it burned among the flames of your insecurities at the end.

You raised your eyes subtly outlined, looking your reflection in the mirror. One minute ago, you were feeling stunning, amazing, out of this world, even sexy wearing a tight black dress over your knees and a heart shaped neckline. It was the first time you were dressing like that, trying to surprise him, being used to see you on your ‘rider outfit’ which is a cool one too. Now you felt ridiculous, with some painful lashes running under your chest, snorting because you knew your father was right. Taking off the makeup from your face with a wipe, your father put his head out the door.

“Are you re—? What are you doing? For god's sake, (Y/N), when I get to the party, there will be no beer! Those fucking prospects drinks more than the fuckin' Charlie Sheen on his day off”.

“I forgot I have an exam next week, leave to the clubhouse”. You just said, cleaning the red color covering your pinky lips.

“Mi amor, listen…” He raised a hand close to you, being stopped before he could touch you.

“Dad, just fuckin' leave! Okay? I'm fucking fine”. Interrupting him, you threw the wipe inside the sink with a sudden move. “I fuckin' get it. Your brother. Older than me. With interest in women, not in… in… I don' even know what the fuck I am”.

“Cariño...”

“A fuckin' clown, dad. That's what I am. A. Fucking. Clown”. You pointed out every word on air with your left forefinger.

“You don' need to be this rude”.

“Well, fuck you for breaking my fuckin' heart, instead of telling me ‘go, do it and if he doesn't want you, I'll hold you’. That's what a normal father would say to his daughter”.

“I didn' mean to hurt you”.

“But you did”. Turning at your father to face him, you took off the black dress raising it on air hanging it in your fingers. “I had to work at Bernardino's one month to afford it, and all the makeup you see here. From dusk till dawn, surrounded by creepy drunk old men”.

“I could have paid it for you”. He said then, with a guilty tone of voice because of everything.

“But, that's not the point, dad! I was trying to show Riz I can also earn my own jack”. You leaned towards the toilet where you left your huge Mayan's black shirt to wear it. “Go to the party, get drunk with your brothers, fuck some chick and have fun”.

Your father toured his incisors with the tip of his tongue, nodding in silence. After clean the mess in the bathroom and keep all your stuff there, you just lay down in bed hugging one of your big pillows. You were waiting for that weekend for five long days away at the university, as every week since you move out of Santo Padre to San Diego.

You didn't know you had keep it. You totally forgot it and finding it brings you bittersweet memories of that night and what happened the days after. Giving a spin over the black high-heels, putting well the tight dress on, you have a look in the mirror. Still fitting like a glove to your anatomy. And you're incredibly stunning in it. You like it, you have always liked. But you don't feel like you can use it. It's like if it is going to bring some bad luck to your relationship.

“Shit, you look like a cheap bitch, baby”.

You were so self-absorbed, that you haven't realized Riz was resting his back on the door frame.

“Yeah, I'm gonna ask Vicki to be one of her girls, 'cause you can't even find your small cocky”.

Teasing each other all the time it's a current mood. And you love it. Turning at him and focus all your attention in your husband, your eyes notice the way he tied his hair in a small black bun with some bristles falling by his temples. No matter how many years can pass away, he will run you out of air with the most minimal detail.

“Are we celebrating something?” Riz lifts up an eyebrow, licking his lips. Not being nervous, but excited about the idea. “I know every special date and today isn't one of them”.

“It's just a dress, Michael”.

“Really? I was about to ask you to marry me again”. He chuckles crossing both arms on his chest covered by leather.

“I bought it seven years ago, for a… date I should have had, and that never happened”.

Riz's jaw get tense from zero to one hundred, just in a second. His gesture turns into somewhat more confused, when he notices the sadness and the pain in your voice. You never told him about that night, but maybe could be a good moment to do it. Your eyes come back to your own reflect in the mirror, before taking off the shoes, heel against heel losing almost seven inches of high.

“One month working in a… bikers' pub, enduring bullshit, to buy it. But I stayed at home”.

Riz isn't sure if he wants to know how a guy broke your heart, but he's pretty sure he doesn't want to know why you kept that dress, seeming it like the dead body of a bad memory. And you're talking about something that happened seven years ago. Before being together, so he's starting to make his own Netflix movie in his head.

“I was i—”.

“I don' wanna fuckin' hear it”. He just raises a hand slightly, shaking his head.

“Why?”

“I don' give a fuck about what you did seven years ago”.

His hardened voice gives you some chills around your back, knowing he's really angry because of what he's imagining. Something too far from reality.

“Take that fuckin' dress off”.

And that is the best confirmation to know the grade of his annoyance.

“Riz, I wanna tell you something”.

“Fuck, no! You have told me a million times that I was your first love. Your only one. But something happened seven years ago that broke your fuckin' heart and fucked you down, and you keep that… clothe you were gonna use with him. How the fuck should I feel, ah? So you lied to me and… what? I was the second choice?”

“You should be a film director”.

“Good, thank you for first hurting me and then fucking laughing in my face”.

“Could you plea—?”

“FUCK, NO, (Y/N)! I'm fucking disappointed right now!”.

For a second you could swear that your husband is about to cry, with his eyes getting reddened. You can feel the tension in his body, seeing how furious his chest grabs and expels the air.

“It was my father”. You say then, before giving him the opportunity to leave the room. “My father broke my heart, actually. Even if the date wasn't with him. It was me who didn't go”.

Now, he's a little more confused, turning at you after giving you his back some seconds ago.

“Actually, me and… the ‘other guy’... we never talked about having a date. I just… wanted to force it. I mean, he was my friend. The point was come to the clubhouse and maybe earn some time together, alone”.

Yes, you're making him suffer a little, but he never was clear with you. So it's a kind of payback. And you know exactly what he is thinking. Clubhouse, Mayan, friend, seven years ago: Angel. He has been your best friend since ever.

“I can't fuckin' believe you…” He whispers letting his head falling down, until his chest meets his chin, laughing between teeth bitterly.

“But my father told me that he would never notice me, as I wanted, as I wished it. Do you wanna know why?”

“Fuck, no. And fuck you, (Y/N)”.

You have to do a big effort to not break in laughter, walking closer towards him.

“Because he was his brother. He was loyal. And a little bit older than me. Apparently I wasn't his type either”.

“I'm fuckin' done with this… bullshit, (Y/N)”. He says then whilst moving his hands about to lose his mind, walking away from the main room, looking for his helmet to leave the house.

You don't move a single inch of your body, waiting just one second before raising your voice.

“But he finally noticed me, 'cause I broke a bitch's nose who was talking shit about him!”

Silence. You can't hear his heavy boots touring your home. Riz is standing next to the principal door, and you don't need to be looking at him to know it.

“That night when Coco was full patched! I was ready to go and ask him out!” You add dancing your hips from the left to the right slightly, waiting patiently for Riz to coming back. “I was mentalizing myself for almost five years to do'et! But I thought my father was right! And I decided not to do it 'cause… I was more scared of losing that friendship, than him breaking my heart”.

Even if that last sentence is recited something low, you're sure he has heard it, with his steps walking through the hallway right to the room.

“But… well, I finally got my date, but I didn't use that dress just in case it brought me bad luck. I was too in love, to ruin it for a superstition. And I kept it in a bag”.

Riz appears again with pursed lips and his dark eyes on his feet. A little ashamed because of his words, but still being mad because of you making him believe something it wasn't true just to tease him.

“And…” Taking some steps close to the Mayan, you grab the helmet to leave it above a chair, placing his hands on your waist after that. “I made him the love of my life, my best friend, my confidant, the prize of my good karma, my soulmate…”

“All that?”

“Nope, I made him a lot of things more. But those are the most important”. Traveling your hands to his shoulders and lifting up yourself on your tiptoes, you kiss your husband with all the love you feel inside your chest. Slowly, enjoying it.

Sometimes you forget how lucky you are of having Riz by your side, and sometimes he does it too, but you know you own the whole world being together. He's the most kind man of all. The most loving, pleasing and empathic husband you could ask for. Always working hard to make you smile, to make you feel like a goddess, to make you feel proud of what you two have. Michael lives for you, and you live for him.

Deepening the kiss a little more by straining his tongue between your lips, his fingers go up to your cheeks caressing them and pushing you closer to him, with his scent intensifying and flooding your lungs. His mouth molding perfectly to yours, as always, so slow that steal you a soft gasp tangling your hands on his wrists.

“I have never felt love for anyone it's not you, mi rey”. You say almost in a whisper, when you pull away yourself a second to take some air, touching his nose with yours. “And marry you for a second time sounds so good…”

“Change your clothes, mi amor”. Riz soughs, eyes closed, with a silky loud tone bristling your skin. “We're leaving”.

“To Las Vegas?” You sound excited as a five years old about to go to DisneyWorld for the first time, even if you're already married.

“You wanna marry me again?”

“I wanna marry you every day of my life, Riz”.

#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #michael riz ariza x reader #riz ariza x reader #riz ariza #michael riz ariza #keeping up with the arizas

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0utatnight · 4 years

Text

Thor/Avengers Movie Star AU

Jane is a scriptwriter known for two acclaimed films who cares deeply for her craft and insists on being involved in the films she creates which means she doesn’t work well with a lot of people. Darcy is her assistant/wrangler who smoothes over a lot of the negotiating as well as keeping Jane comfy while she’s working. They’ve been working together since the beginning, when Darcy was an undecided major and Jane was just looking for an office assistant while working on her first script. (6 years now, two major films, first one was with Thor)

A/N: this is dipping my toes into something a bit darker than my usual, please do read the tw just beneath the cut and if I’ve missed anything do let me know and I’ll add it on. <3

TW: sexual harassment, sexual harassment in the workplace, closeted characters, threat of outing an LGBTQA character, homophobia, panic attacks

The next movie they start working on is a spy film featuring a Krystyna Skarbek-esque character that Jane also wants a hand in producing since her first two films have garnered her some money and acclaim. They’ve already scored a leading lady (Natasha Romonov, known for her role as the iconic black widow a few years back, about a woman who escapes a violent family situation via murder and later in life convinces a friend to do the same), but are still looking for their leading men.

Tony Stark runs the production company that Jane signs with, and a family acquaintance of his, Obadiah Stane, has offered to finance the film. Bruce Banner is directing and has worked with Tony before.

James Buchanan Barnes signs on as one of the leading men at the beginning of the story, and suggests a friend who’s only really done a few arthouse films for the role of the other man. Jane happens to be there for Bucky’s casting (he’s not familiar to her) and feels that he nailed it, so when he suggests Steven Rogers she wants to screen him as well and encourages bringing him in.

He blows the competition out of the water and Jane gets him in front of Tony and Bruce. Bruce is all for it and Steve is quickly brought into the fold.

Meanwhile, Darcy’s had some unfortunate run-ins with Stane. She’d always heard that Tony was the one to watch out for- there’s always rumors in their industry- but it’s Stane who turns out to be handsy and always a bit too close for her liking. He makes some uncomfortable comments about her body and Darcy gets a bad vibe and tries to keep the younger staff away from him/shield Jane.

Then one day she’s asked to do some menial task or another that is not in her job description, and while she’s at it she gets cornered by Stane who, knowing they’re alone and she won’t have proof, threatens her job and then tells her to do something vulgar. Steve walks in on the uncomfortable silence that follows and notes how scared Darcy looks, and recalling other times Stane has said something out of line he clocks what might have happened and gets Darcy out of there real quick, claiming Jane is looking for her.

Darcy is grateful and tries not to freak out too much in front of Steve- she can’t honestly say how she would have reacted if the situation hadn’t been interrupted, or what else Stane might have done. She doesn’t go into detail about what happened but Steve can guess well enough and turns around to go pummel him. Darcy stops him and says she thinks he was just messing with her, besides which, what can they really do about it? He didn’t do anything, she doesn’t have it on record that he said some gross shit, it’s his word against hers and she knows how these things usually go. She’s been keeping other staff away from him, she’ll just have to be a bit more careful herself.

Steve isn’t pleased with this but relents, as it’s Darcy’s decision, and tells her if she ever needs a hand or someone to talk to, he’s there. She thanks him and he asks if they can eat lunch together; a little surprised by the invite but pleased, she says yes.

Steve and Darcy grow closer over the next week or so, and as such Darcy ends up spending more time with Bucky. He catches on to the Obadiah situation when Steve helps hide Darcy in the makeup trailer one day and though he asks about it Darcy doesn’t share any details (she doesn’t feel entirely comfortable around him). They continue their banter and later he tries to bug it out of Steve, but is told it’s not his story to tell. Steve asks him to keep an eye on Darcy for him though, and Bucky complains but agrees.

Meanwhile Stane finds more reasons to turn up at Jane’s portion of the studio and Darcy becomes even more cautious on set as he grows bolder with his advances. She flat out tells him to stop and that his wife probably wouldn’t be fine with what he’s doing but he claims she’s has so many affairs he’s lost count, and they have an agreement, what one might call an open relationship- he asks if she’s had any experience with that kind of thing, seeing multiple people at the same time, and Darcy brushes him off and makes more of an effort to never be alone with him.

While all that nonsense is happening, Steve and Darcy spend more time together and Bucky can tell Steve is falling for Darcy pretty hard, while Darcy is trying to keep her crush on her new friend under wraps. Then one night after filming the crew is all heading home at the end of the long day and Darcy walks in on Steve and Bucky making out in one of the quieter areas of the set. She leaves discreetly and they don’t notice her, and that moment causes her to acknowledge that Steve is far more out of her reach than she thought (the potential superstardom thing was enough to make her hesitant but this is an obvious ‘he’s never gonna notice you and is not available’ to her).

She doesn’t exactly go out of her way to distance herself but she pulls back from their relationship a little and she can tell Steve is hurt and confused. When he asks why she isn’t spending her lunches with them anymore she tells him Stane stopped bothering her so he doesn’t have to worry about it, which she knows wasn’t the whole reason they were spending time together, but she needs a way out without admitting her attraction to him.

Bucky, on the other hand, just gets straight up angry. He bitches her out when there’s finally a quiet moment between the two of them and Darcy just bites her tongue, not wanting to humiliate either of them by admitting what she saw and why she’s more hesitant around them (aka breaking her own heart).

Something about the conversation keeps bothering Bucky and the next time he goes to leave the set at the end of a shoot he notices her car’s still there. He decides to stay and get a real answer out of her.

Darcy is picking up a notebook of Jane’s that she’d forgotten when she turns to leave and runs smack into Obediah Stane. He’s creepy as usual and then pushy, a hard hand grasping at her throat, asking why she ducked out so quick on him last time, and then asking about her time with Rogers and Bucky. He drops a slur and she slaps him, finally angry enough to snap out of her fear, and he tells her she’s gonna regret that. He lets her go to touch his now bloody lip and tells her she has ten seconds before he comes for her- he likes a chase- and Darcy darts out into the hall and heads through studio, as the parking lot is on the other side. She books it but she’s also wearing heels, trips and skins her knee in her jeans, and doesn’t get far.

An arm snags her from out of the darkness and she screams, bringing Obediah in her direction. It turns out to be Bucky who grabbed her, and he pulls her into a dark corner of the set (an old 1940’s diner). When Darcy calms he asks her what’s going on and Obediah’s voice drifts through the hollow studio, taunting Darcy. Bucky tells her to head to the parking lot and not to worry about this, his car is unlocked. She asks what he’s going to do but he tells her to just head out.

Darcy refuses, and they stand up to Stane together. He’s not pleased, after insisting he was just teasing Darcy and having Bucky tell him he’ll report him, so he lashes out and tells Bucky he knows all about his exploits with his ‘friend’ Steve and threatens to out them to the press. Stane also says Darcy already knows and he’s surprised everyone on set hasn’t caught on to their arrangement. Darcy steps in at this and shoves Obediah back, calling him a real piece of shit and saying if he says anything about Bucky and Steve to anyone she’ll move press charges against him for sexual harassment. Stane reluctantly relents after a few sneered threats and she and Bucky leave, both shaken.

They’re quiet when they get in Bucky’s car (Bucky insisting she can’t drive herself home while she’s still shaking) and Darcy says he can just drop her off at the bus stop- Bucky interrupts to insist he take her home. After settling into silence again, Darcy quietly apologizes for involving him in this mess. Bucky snaps at her not to apologize and then reigns himself in, realizing his tone. He tells her it’s not her fault that guy is a fucking creep and lets out a long breath. He asks how long this has been going on for and Darcy hesitates before telling him for about a month now.

Bucky clenches his hands on the steering wheel and when it becomes clear Darcy isn’t going to volunteer any information asks if he’s ever put his hands on her. Darcy thinks back to him slapping her ass while walking by her in Jane’s office, to copping a feel of her chest right in front of people when she dropped some papers and he stooped down to ‘help’ her, and tonight, when he put his palm flat against her sternum and then grasped her throat. She swallows, not quite knowing how to answer because she knows this isn’t really what Bucky is asking, and opens her mouth but she’s taken long enough and he can see from the look on her face what she wants to say. He pulls over and stops the car.

He asks if she’s okay, and she nods and says she just needs some air, getting out of the vehicle to crouch at the side of the road and gasp. Bucky gets out and says he thinks she’s having a panic attack, and holds her hand through it when she reaches out for him. She’s okay, calms down after a few minutes, and is left feeling weak and tired. Bucky gets her back in the car and asks where she wants to go- he can take her home. She hesitantly admits she doesn't want to be alone, and Bucky, telling her not to worry, gives Steve a call while she dozes off asking if they can come to his place.

Darcy wakes up when he opens the driver side door, and he helps her to her feet after coming around to her side to open her door as well. She’s still sluggish but resists his offer to carry her, and he tucks her arm into his as they head to the front door of a one story. Steve answers the door and is very confused, and Bucky tells him Darcy needs to crash here for the night- so will he. They’ll explain later.

Steve lends Darcy a sleeping shirt and some oversized sweatpants and tucks her into bed as she’s still disoriented. She thanks him and passes out to the sounds of their quiet voices on the other side of the bedroom door.

The next morning when she wakes up, Steve is making breakfast. Bucky has gone out for fruit to go with the pancakes, Steve tells her as he pours her a coffee and ushers her to a seat. He’ll be back soon. When Darcy quietly sips her drink, Steve asks while hovering over the oven how she’s feeling, and she shrugs, kind of numb now and also the situation is surreal to her. Without looking back at her he asks why she didn’t say anything to him.

Darcy clutches her coffee like it’s a lifeline and Steve clarifies that Bucky told him last night that she knew about the two of them. Her tension drains a bit, knowing he’s not talking about the situation with Stane, and she clears her throat, trying to think of a way to say it was none of her business without being rude, or giving away that she’s actually way too into him considering how unavailable he is and it hurts. Steve keeps his back to her as he cooks, and she says he didn’t talk to her about it and they were obviously keeping it secret. She didn’t want Steve to feel like he’d have to act differently around her, or think that she was like spying on them or whatever. She just didn’t want to get in the way of what was going on with them.

Steve tries to ask how she could have gotten in the way, scoffing, and she says it’s always the three of them together, and she doesn’t know what their deal is- a relationship or just casual or whatever- but it’s clear that he and Bucky truly like each other and she was basically taking up their alone time. Steve quietly says that it wouldn’t have bothered him or Bucky and Darcy hmms into her coffee, not quite sure how to reply.

She settles on telling him she’s happy he has somebody who cares for him so much, he and Bucky are always connected at the hip, and Steve turns slightly to give her a once over. She baldly asks if they’re dating while she has his eye and Steve turns back to the pan, and says it’s complicated. Darcy says it seems like it and that the industry can be a tough place to be if you’re not out. Steve nods and adds that all Bucky has ever wanted to do was be a leading man, get those action roles. And he’s not sure that’ll keep happening for him if their relationship is discovered. Darcy apologizes and says it shouldn’t be like that.

Bucky unlocks the door to the two of them brooding and asks what happened, sensing the foul mood. Steve perks up and tells him pancakes are almost done, and Bucky gets to the sink to wash the berries and grab some plates for them. He asks Darcy how she slept and watching the two of them in such a domestic setting has put some butterflies in her stomach for some reason. She clears her throat and says she slept great, thanks Steve for letting her stay again. He’s plating the pancakes as Bucky hands him dishes, and tells Darcy she’s welcome any time.

They sit, Steve with a huge stack of pancakes, Bucky with a slightly lesser plate, and Darcy grabbing a measly two in comparison, and she thanks them for breakfast while digging in. Bucky smothers his in whipped cream and Darcy goggles at him while he scarfs it down, almost impressed. Steve takes a bit more time with his meal and asks Darcy if she wants a ride into the office with them today. She mentions her car is still in the lot and thanks him for the offer, and Bucky says through a mouthful of pancake and blueberries that he can walk her to her office. She tells him it should be fine, Stane isn’t supposed to be on set today, and Steve puts down his fork.

It takes a moment for her to realize that he’s gone from 0 to 100 in the span of a second, but Bucky slows his eating and a silence descends upon their tiny kitchen table. Darcy looks up in the weight of that quiet to find Steve staring her down. He carefully asks why she’s bringing up Stane, and then asks if this has to do with whatever happened last night?

Darcy swallows her food and looks wildly to Bucky, thrown. She starts to ask whether Bucky said anything about it but she doesn’t even get the whole question out before he shrugs and says it wasn’t his place to tell. He crosses his arms and leans back in his chair to watch the impending explosion as Darcy hisses that he might have let her in on that earlier.

Steve says she told him Stane had stopped bothering her and Darcy doesn’t have anything to say to that, squirming guiltily in her seat, so he presses on, asking what happened, looking to Bucky who simply gestures back to Darcy. Steve asks again, gentler this time, seeing how uncomfortable Darcy is, and she keeps her eyes on her plate when she says she lied about Stane stopping. It hasn’t stopped. In fact, it’s gotten worse.

She peers up at the ceiling and starts blinking away tears in an effort not to cry, not sure if it’s because of all this shit built up with Stane or because she feels like she’s sabotaged her own relationship with this person she really likes. The guilt over stepping away from Steve hits her like a ton of bricks but she pulls herself together as Bucky lays a hand over hers on the kitchen table. She spills what’s been happening the last week to Steve whose face grows stonier with every word, and then confesses exactly what happened in that room before she ran out and into Bucky. She turns her hand in his to clasp it and thanks him for the first time, and to her delight he seems vaguely uncomfortable with her sincerity, flushing while he tells her he didn’t even do anything.

#darcy lewis #Darcyland #darcy x bucky #darcy x steve #bucky x darcy x steve #bucky x steve #mcu fanfic #mcu fanfic prompt #fanfic prompt #hollywood au #movie star au #plot outline #unfinished #please mind the tw under the cut #deals with some more serious issues than my other fic ideas #wintershieldshock

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

Heatstroke (Shillam) - Ortega

a/n: it’s ya boi, back from holiday with a very Summery bit of nonsense for u all! love to purecamp for just screaming beta-ing this. hope u all like it and if u do, pls hop into my ask box or pop an ask here to show me some love xo

summary:

“Or…how about we swap shifts? I take yours now, you cover my beach shift later on. Gives you more time to crack on with the nonentities of reality TV.”

Chad looked initially excited then suddenly narrowed her eyes, following Sharon’s quick gaze over to the three girls on the sunbeds, where the pink-haired one in her line of vision was now arguing with the sunbed-reservers. As Sharon snapped her gaze back to Chad, the other girl was now giving her eyes a colossal roll.

“Oh, Sharon, could this be any more of a cliche?”

(4kish oneshot. Sharon’s a lifeguard. Willam’s a dumbass. lesbian au bc it’s me xo)

***

The bright sting of sunlight beamed down onto Sharon’s skin as she frowned, squirted out another huge dollop of factor 50 into the palm of her hand, and rubbed gently at her shoulders. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to the heat over here and she cursed as she watched the other lifeguards wander around the poolside, all gorgeous and tanned and straight out of an ITV2 reality show. Sharon was pale and fair, a combination that didn’t mix well with Ibiza in the height of July. She got blisters on her shoulders the first week she came- she’d never been abroad before and thought that one thick layer of suncream in the morning would be enough to last the whole day. Seven days, various baggy t shirts and three full bottles of aloe vera lotion later, she had learned her lesson.

As she cast her gaze over the resort where a healthy mix of sixth form holidayers, wannabe instagram influencers, and 40 year old men with skin the same tone as a gammon partied or swam or sunbathed away, across the way she caught the eye of a girl on the sunbeds who had already been looking at her. She was lying on her tummy and reading a magazine which was resting on the stone tiles below the sunbed. Her gaze had flicked back down to the glossy pages, pink hair falling over her face as she attempted to disguise the fact she’d been looking at Sharon just moments ago. Or maybe Sharon was going crazy, which was probably the most likely option. It had been a couple of months since her ex had broken up with her (okay, five - she was counting) and since Phi Phi, she hadn’t received the attention of any girls and she was starting to go mildly insane. That was part of the reason why she’d even applied for the job at Ocean Beach in the first place- the other was that she desperately needed some sun, and when she got offered the job there she accepted in a heartbeat. A whole season away from home would be weird, but really what was she leaving behind? Her one bed flat and a bunch of potted plants she could barely keep alive?

Sharon felt something burning on her again, and this time it wasn’t the sun. She slowly, cautiously, turned her head around to the spot she knew the girl was lying down at and, sure enough, she was looking at her again. Only this time she hadn’t turned away and was allowing Sharon to take in her blue eyes, surrounded with last night’s glitter, mascara and eyeliner. On anyone else it would look horrific, but this girl seemed to suit it as if she’d woken up that day and decided to put her makeup on like an Escher painting. She’d evidently put on fresh gloss and her lips were a shining metallic blue, rendering Sharon unable to see what colour they were actually meant to be. She didn’t really mind. The girl’s bikini was like holographic dental floss- the bottoms were practically disappearing between her cheeks and the singular strap of the top had been unclipped and was draped on either side of the girl’s body allowing her to avoid a tan line. Sharon was suddenly glad of the mirrored aviators she was wearing which were allowing her to look at the girl without her knowing- which sounded creepy in Sharon’s head, but she justified it by knowing she hadn’t been the one that started it. Just then, the girl gave her an exaggerated wink, making Sharon thankful for her sunburnt cheeks as she knew she was flushing the same shade as the neon pink bikini that an Only Way Is Essex star was wearing two sun loungers along from her.

“Willam!” there came a loud shout that cut through the noise of two different sets of speakers, as the girl’s head snapped to the side and glared at two other blonde girls (one tall, one smaller) that had appeared beside her. The tall one was speaking. “Girl! We’ve been shouting across to you for like five minutes! What do you want from the bar?"

As the girl dragged her eyes off Sharon she barely had time to overthink about whether she’d seemed reluctant to stop staring or not, as she had to blow her whistle at a group of eight boys on holiday together all seemingly trying to drown each other.

***

Sharon boredly swung her whistle around in her hand, the small metal noise box from hell constantly threatening to fly off its lanyard. She’d been scanning the side of the pool all of yesterday and all morning but she still hadn’t seen a flash of pink hair, and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t disappoint her. She didn’t know why this one girl- Willam, Sharon reminded herself- had grabbed her attention so forcefully with just a wink worthy of a Carry-On film and a holographic bikini. Ocean Beach was frequented by beautiful girls with glossy hair, perfect blinding veneers and tans worthy of Greek goddesses, and for the first week she’d lifeguarded there Sharon had felt like a bitch in heat. But Willam was so different to them. She was almost special because she didn’t conform to the classic Ibiza-Barbie beauty standard with her pink hair and messy makeup. Sharon frowned to herself and shook her head before taking a swig from her water bottle. What the fuck was she doing getting so hung up on a random girl she literally hadn’t spoken to yet and who she only knew the name of by sheer dumb luck?

She was suddenly distracted by someone leaning against the lookout, and was ready to blow her whistle into their face when she realised it was only Chad. She’d completely forgotten that her shift was almost over, and it hit her with a pang of disappointment that she hadn’t seen Willam yet. Chad swept her dark fringe out of her eyes and smiled up at her.

"Guess who slept with Rykard Jenkins last night?” she bragged, her poised posture somehow making the whole interaction seem classy. “I’m not naming names but it was definitely me.”

“Oh my God. Is he a minor royal?” Sharon gasped extravagantly, placing a hand to her chest and laughing as Chad rolled her eyes.

“You know he was on Love Island, Sharon,” she glared at her, unimpressed. Sharon gave a chuckle.

“No, you’re right. I did know that. Does he have a thing for girls whose first and last names usually belong to men? Chad, I don’t know how to tell you this, baby,” Sharon stage-whispered down to her friend. “I think he’s gay.”

Chad managed to hold her unimpressed look for all of a second before spluttering out a laugh. “God, you’re the worst. Remind me why I’m friends with you?”

“Because I’m the only bitch in this place that wouldn’t sell your soul to Satan for a bottle of Moet.”

Chad laughed and made to climb up the ladder. “Let me on my goddamn shift, bitch, before I tip this thing over."

Suddenly, something caught Sharon’s eye. Three girls- two blonde, one pink- strutting up to three sunbeds which already had towels on them, flinging them away and replacing them with their own before kicking their wedges off and lying down. Sharon felt excitement catch in her throat.

"Or…how about we swap shifts? I take yours now, you cover my beach shift later on. Gives you more time to crack on with the nonentities of reality TV.”

“Oh, Sharon, could this be any more of a cliche?”

“Shut up! I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” Sharon frowned, mentally kicking herself that her second statement should probably have come before her first. Chad raised an eyebrow to indicate she’d read Sharon’s mind. “Look, it’s nothing, okay, it’s just…she’s cute, and I want to get to know her."

Chad gave a laugh and climbed down off the first rung. "Well as long as nobody dies because you’re too busy staring at a cute girl. Which one is she, the legs?”

“No. Pink hair,” Sharon risked a look back over to find that chief-sunbed-reserver-bitch was practically at Willam’s throat. Sharon gave a long blast of her whistle which made the sunbed-reserver drop her towel. “Hey! No reserving! You know that shit!"

As the sunbed-reservers slunk off, Sharon didn’t miss the beaming smile of thanks that Willam was sending her way. She gave a small, self-conscious salute and turned back to Chad, who was cringing.

"A salute? Girl. You’re not fucking Little Mix.”

“Piss off and let me make heart eyes in peace.”

So Chad did, and Sharon tried not to focus too much on Willam because as Chad had mentioned, there were many people here that were already more than a few drinks down despite it being 11 in the morning, so Sharon had to watch that they didn’t stray too close to the pool’s edge. As her gaze drifted back to the three sun-loungers, she saw that one of them was empty. Willam wasn’t there any more, but all her stuff was. As Sharon felt her heart sink with confusion, she was distracted by a deafening cry of “CANNONBAAAAALL!” which was immediately followed by a crashing splash in the water, which soaked many unimpressed Instagram influencers who were trying to perfect their poses on unicorn-shaped inflatable rings. Frowning, Sharon blew her whistle again before she realised who had launched themself into the water- a slick of wet, pink hair floated back to the surface, Willam’s grin plastered over her face, clearly happy that she’d caused the maximum amount of destruction possible. Nonetheless, Sharon had blown her whistle and she had to commit to it.

“No bombing!” she yelled across to her, Willam only glaring briefly at her and shooting her a smile.

“Calm down, princess, I ain’t Al-Quaeda!"

Sharon tried to stop the quirk that her lips gave. Princess. She definitely didn’t like that as much as her body was telling her that she did.

The rest of the morning seemed to pass way too quickly. Sharon was trying to do her job to the best of her ability but she kept getting distracted and her gaze kept being pulled over to the set of three sunbeds to update herself on what Willam was doing. Namely chatting to her friends and sunbathing. Sharon felt like an idiot, willing her to come and walk past her lookout so she could just happen to strike up a conversation with her. Really, though, what the fuck would she say? Hey, I’ve been weirdly lowkey (highkey) checking you out for the past three days and I already know your name even though we’ve barely exchanged words. Wanna go out?

It turned out she didn’t have to worry as, from the way Willam began to act, it was almost as if she wanted Sharon’s attention. It began when she teetered back from the bar, mojito in hand. She slipped her heels off and made her way into the pool, where she sat her drink at the side and dipped her body into the water. As much as Sharon was taken in by the sight of the neon green faux-snakeskin swimsuit she was wearing and how well it fitted her (definitely not how well it clung to her body), Sharon had to blow her whistle again. Her heart gave a thump when Willam looked over her shoulder at her, straw between her teeth and her damp hair giving a flick.

"No drinks,” Sharon shouted over, unable to stop herself from giving a small smile as Willam rolled her eyes and pouted.

“Who the hell are you, Casper the Nazi ghost?” she yelled back, turning and gesturing to her smaller blonde friend to collect her glass. The girl leant down to Willam and whispered something quietly, the other girl’s face lighting up as if she’d just discovered Uranium. There was the smallest, tiniest glance to Sharon, so small that Sharon wasn’t sure if it had even been directed at her or not.

She soon had her answer.

Around twenty minutes later, and mid-daydream, Sharon was distracted by Willam again. She had floated into her line of vision on a donut-patterned rubber ring, and Sharon was about to admire how gorgeous and tanned she looked when she spotted what Willam had in her hand. Willam seemed to sense Sharon’s eyes on her and she smiled, lifted an enormous, lettuce-and-ketchup filled burger to her mouth and took a huge bite.

The whistle was at Sharon’s lips in around a second.

“Are you serious?!” she found herself yelling over, Willam simply smiling and batting her eyes at her.

“You want some? It’s really good,” she said placidly, Sharon rolling her eyes at her so hard they threatened to roll out their sockets.

“Get out the damn pool,” she frowned, narrowing her eyes at Willam before realising she wouldn’t be able to see them through her sunglasses. Nevertheless, Willam shrugged and pushed herself towards the steps where she evacuated her rubber ring without spilling a single bit of the burger.

Five minutes later, Sharon’s gaze was pulled from a group of lads on their stag do who looked increasingly close to falling into the water by a huge shout.

“HEY ALASKA, WATCH HOW FAST I CAN RUN!"

Before Sharon knew what was happening, there was a blur of pink hair and neon green, as Willam made a pretty successful attempt to imitate Usain Bolt’s first time in six-inch heels. Sharon scrambled for her whistle as Willam came dangerously close to knocking someone who she might have recognised from Ex on the Beach into the pool.

Slightly less attracted to her and now far more annoyed by her, Sharon beckoned the girl over. Willam, for her part, looked more proud than ashamed and she made her way around the cavernous pool over to where Sharon sat perched on the lookout. As soon as Willam reached her and beamed up at her with her perfect teeth however, Sharon’s annoyance faltered. What the fuck was she going to say to her?

"Hey, lifeguard,” Willam quipped flirtatiously, Sharon trying to ignore the tone she’d taken with her and going straight to bollocking mode.

“Right, what the fuck is your problem? You’ve been fighting with other guests, chucking yourself into the pool like a sea lion, taken your drink into the pool, taken a fucking burger into the pool, and now you want to act like Mo fucking Farah? You almost knocked Jess Impiazzi into the water, are you trying to end up in the papers?”

Willam fiddled with the buckle on her swimsuit’s belt, looking faux-coyly up at Sharon from under her lashes. “Just page 3 of ‘em.”

Sharon nearly choked. “Well then stop acting like a tit. You’re at Ocean Beach, not the fucking local lido.”

“Well you appear to be a Drumsticks Squashie masquerading as a human being and no-one’s pulled you up on that,” Willam bit back with a cheeky smile. She had a dimple near her chin when she smiled. Sharon tried to ignore that and her hurt pride as she self-consciously touched the sleeves of her regulation polo shirt.

“One more strike and you’re out,” Sharon attempted a withering putdown but her voice seemed to betray the regret she felt in her voice. She didn’t want to ban Willam- she really, desperately didn’t- but rules were rules, and her manager would come down even harder on her if she continued to let this clownery take place a moment longer. Willam simply gave her a single nod and a flirtatious smile.

“Okay, lifeguard,” she deadpanned, before flicking her hair (which had now gone wavy) over her shoulder and walking off. Sharon sighed. She wished Willam didn’t rile her as much as she did. She wished she was less annoying. She wished her legs didn’t look so good in her wedges as she walked away- fuck, no.

Sharon tried to completely clear Willam from her mind. She only had around ten minutes until her shift was up, she could hold on til then. That was what she thought until she scanned her eyes over the pool and saw a mess of pink hair face-down in the water, her body starfished and floating on top. Willam’s two blonde friends seemed to have noticed Sharon’s initial panicked reaction and had begun shouting.

“Oh my God, Courtney, Willam’s drowning!”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Alaska, she is! If only there was a…blonde, skinny…kinda pale…lifeguard to come and save her!” the smaller blonde shouted. Sharon briefly wondered how many calories you could burn via eye-rolling. She’d surely lost a pound today through that alone.

Sharon blew her whistle, walked down from the lookout post and lowered herself into the pool where she swam over to Willam, levered her skinny arms around her neck and swam with her over to the poolside. Positioning her on the steps so she was face-up, Willam gave a dramatic gasp for air and fixed her gaze on Sharon.

“Oh my God! That was so fucking scary…I just passed out, I don’t know what happened…”

Sharon tried to ignore the fact that Willam had consciously kept her arms wrapped around her neck. “Very good, Meryl Streep. Get your shit. You’re barred.”

“What?!” Willam cried, her expression contorting into one of outrage and regret stabbing at Sharon’s heart.

“I told you, didn’t I? One more strike. Piss off,” she scolded in as strict a voice she could muster. Willam scrambled on the ground, moved to snatch her towel up from her lounger, and then squared up to her. She was standing close. Too close, because Sharon’s head was being filled with all sorts of scenarios and fuck, things would be made so much easier if the girl took just one step back.

(Of course, Sharon herself could have taken a step back. But where would the fun have been in that?)

Willam’s eyes narrowed, but there was still a playful spark in them that set Sharon’s nerves alight. “You’re lucky you’re cute…” she began, then flicked her eyes down to the nametag on her shirt. “…Sharon.”

With that, Willam flounced off with her friends quickly following her, and the death stares they were giving Sharon were offset by the smell of Willam’s perfume which managed to overpower the chlorine coming from the ends of her hair.

***

No matter how bored she was of drunken holidaymakers, overhearing the sunburnt, bigoted expats talking about Brexit, or the mosquitos, Sharon would never get bored of the sunsets here. Mostly they were the standard beautiful orange with a hint of yellow or red or both, but sometimes whoever controlled the skies threw something truly special up there. Tonight the sky was almost entirely pink, different hues of dark red-pink high in the sky fading into cherry blossom, then baby pink and then a bright white strip where the sky met the sea. The calm surface of the water meant that the whole beautiful scene was reflected against the surface, and a mirror image of the sky shone back at Sharon as she sat against a cushioned sun lounger that was usually reserved for paying guests. She sat and drank it all in whilst thinking about home, and Phi Phi, and what she could have done differently. She didn’t miss her- she just missed having someone to love. Sharon sometimes felt she had too much love and it always threatened to pour out of her, to burst at her seams.

“You just give me the ick, Sharon, you’re too much for me!”

The words still stung, no matter how much Sharon was over it.

Suddenly there was a small thump beside her on the sun lounger and Sharon had to stop her heart rising like one of the parasailers they took out to sea during the day. As she turned, it was as if someone was smiling down on her because there sat Willam, burying her own feet in the sand and swaying a little where she sat. It had been a day or two since Sharon had seen her last and in that time she’d managed to entirely fill her head, regret at having barred the girl completely consuming her. Sharon still hadn’t stopped looking at her, deigning her much more beautiful than the sunset in front of her. She had chunks of glitter in her hair as well as covering her arms, collarbones and chest.

“Hey,” she began, wondering if Willam really had noticed her as she seemed completely intent on entombing her ankles. Willam’s head suddenly gave a lurch to the side and she smiled up at her goofily, making Sharon’s stomach give a dip.

“Oh hey. It’s the strawberry mini milk,” she slightly slurred out, making Sharon laugh despite the jibe.

“Ouch.”

“That’s a joke, by the way. You’re not that sunburned,” Willam followed it up, her eyes seeming to plead with Sharon to never stop looking into them. “You’re more like a…vanilla mini milk.”

“What is this obsession with mini milks?” Sharon chuckled, Willam giving an elongated shrug.

“They’re rich in calcium.”

Sharon wondered if this girl was ever going to stop making her laugh. As she quieted down, she noticed Willam had gone quiet too and she was back burying her feet. “You’ll get sand under your nails.”

“Meh.”

“How was the glitter party, then?”

“Tried to chat someone up from the last series of Love Island.”

“Oh. Very nice,” Sharon raised her eyebrows, wondering why everyone seemed to be obsessed with these manufactured, airbrushed ideas of what an attractive human should look like. To her, none of them had a patch on Willam.

“No, bitch, it wasn’t nice! Because I’m still alone, aren’t I, instead of getting pounded into the mattress,” she mumbled sadly, Sharon’s heart going out to her for some reason. With a stab to her heart, she realised she hadn’t counted on Willam not liking girls.

“Well, you’re not technically alone. Because I’m with you,” Sharon kept her flirting subtle, part of her not wanting to be deterred. She was rewarded by Willam smiling at her shyly. It seemed out of character.

“Well, Sharon the lifeguard. Since I’m not-alone-with-you. Tell me things,” Willam leant forward onto her elbows and her head came just that little bit close to resting on Sharon’s lap. Her breath hitched in her throat.

“JLS have had the most number ones out of any other UK X Factor winner.”

“What?”

“You told me to tell you things. That’s a thing,” Sharon shrugged lightly, the other girl bursting into a laugh that made her sound like a bike horn.

“No, you idiot! I meant about you! I want the first draft of the autobiography,” she giggled, and Sharon’s heart sprang to life.

“Well. There’s not much to tell really. Was a lifeguard at home before I came out here, just working at the local pool. Can’t really tell what’s easier to be honest. Suppose dealing with drunk adults is a little bit like dealing with children,” she reeled off, suddenly self-conscious about how boring her life sounded. Willam didn’t seem deterred.

“How old are you?"

Sharon was going to make a quip about how it was rude to ask a lady’s age, but thought she might have been taking it too far there. "Twenty-seven. Probably too old to be working at Ocean Beach, but-”

“Oh my God, me too!” Willam cried, drunk and happy. As she rolled onto her back she said something that sounded a bit like “No age gap, then.” but Sharon was sure her mind must have been playing tricks on her.

“What’s your story?” Sharon asked, fighting the urge to rest her arm against Willam’s waist.

“ ’M a receptionist for some company in the Shard. AK…C…VIP or something like that,” she waved a hand dismissively, and Sharon laughed.

“What do they do?”

“It’s a payments ecosystem,” Willam said dryly, Sharon holding in her laugh for about a second before it came bursting out of her.

“You definitely made that up.”

“Bitch, they definitely made it up! Nobody knows what the hell it means,” Willam cried out defensively, before shifting uncomfortably. “No one knows what it means, but it’s provocative. This isn’t comfy. Hang on.”

Before Sharon knew it, Willam’s head was in her lap and her heart was fluttering dangerously quickly.

“So how come you’re out here?” Sharon asked, taking her mind off her impending heart attack. She felt Willam shrug.

“Same reason everyone’s out here. Holiday. Escaping my boring fuck of a life.”

Sharon gave a laugh. “I think most people are out here to get famous.”

“Well in that case, I ain’t most people.”

There was a pause before Willam spoke again, in which Sharon, against her better judgement, brought her hand up to tangle in Willam’s hair. She could have imagined it, but she thought she heard Willam give a little purr of happiness. Willam broke the silence all too quickly.

“The sky looks like the lesbian flag.”

Sharon looked up at the rapidly receding sun and took it all in. “I guess it does.”

“Representation,” Willam punched her fist in the air weakly. Sharon’s heart gave a jolt as if she’d just been pushed down a water slide.

“As in?” Sharon heard herself asking, willing her voice not to sound too hopeful. She fully expected an answer that was akin to Oh I love the lesbians! Pink is pretty!

“As in, I’m getting the representation I deserve?” Willam gestured as if it was obvious. Sharon didn’t dare believe what she was implying.

“Oh, you’re a lesbian?” she asked casually. Except it didn’t come out as casual as she’d hoped.

Willam turned over so her head was peering up at Sharon, unimpressed. “Oh don’t tell me you’re some homophobic bitch, because I had you pegged as a butch top and I’ve never been wrong before in my life.”

Sharon’s mind immediately burst into the Hallelujah chorus.

“No! No, no, no. I mean I’m not homophobic. And I’m also gay,” she shrugged, trying to ignore the angels with trumpets that were blasting in her ears. She gave a snort as she realised what Willam had said. “Butch?”

“Oh yeah, girl. Butch as fuck. Embrace it.”

There was a quiet pause in which Sharon didn’t stop playing with Willam’s hair and Willam began drawing against Sharon’s skin with her fingers. Willam was the one to break it.

“What 'bout you, bitch? How come you’re out here? You gonna be on Baywatch?” Willam spoke too-loudly, interrupting the moment.

Sharon gave a small sigh. “I broke up with my girlfriend. Well, no, she broke up with me. Moved out of her flat. Got one of my own. The job came up and I had nothing to lose so I just went for it.”

“Damn. She’s a fuckin’ idiot. What was her name?"

"Phi Phi,” Sharon said, the words sounding all wrong in her mouth. She was glad when they were out of there.

“She sounds like a bitch,” Willam shifted so that she was comfortable and her fingers could continue to make patterns against Sharon’s legs. Sharon should have moved further away. She didn’t.

Sharon twirled a lock of pink around her fingers, eager to change the subject. “So wait, who was the Love Islander that-”

“Megan from season four. She’s by far the hottest girl to ever grace the show and she’s bi so I thought I was in with a shot,” Willam pouted up at Sharon. “Turns out she likes brunettes. You look a lot like her actually.”

Sharon gave a laugh that hoped disguised the fact that her pulse was racing. She barely knew the girl, but simultaneously she felt as if they were old acquaintances. They had some sort of inexplicable connection, which sounded crazy but Sharon felt it was true. “Comparing me to the most attractive girl ever on Love Island. High praise.”

“No, you’re the most attractive girl to exist ever,” Willam slurred out, Sharon’s pulse now surely breaking every speed limit to exist.

“You barely know me, Willam,” she laughed softly, trying not to let the regret tinge her voice too much. Willam narrowed her eyes at her as she stared up.

“How d'you know my name, bitch?”

Sharon froze. She tried to turn it on Willam. “Well how do you know mine?”

“It was on your fuckin’ nametag,” Willam laughed, curiosity still in her eyes. Sharon covered her face as she realised she would have to reveal what a massive fucking stalker she was.

“I heard one of your friends shouting on you the other day. Committed it to memory. That makes me sound weird, and it is fucking weird, but I just-"

Sharon was cut off as Willam pushed herself off Sharon’s lap and moved to sit close beside her. Their bodies were touching and some of the glitter from Willam’s leg transferred onto Sharon’s, a little part of Willam that was stuck to her. Willam tucked her hair behind her ears and looked towards the sand in an uncharacteristically demure gesture.

"You know I’m coming on to you, right? I don’t mind spelling it out if you can’t tell,” she said, sounding more sober now than she had throughout the entire conversation. Sharon wasn’t sure what to do next. She didn’t really think she would get this far, happy with admiring Willam from a distance. Now this seemed all so real and possible and not just images Sharon had conjured up in her head before she went to sleep.

“You’re drunk as fuck.”

“So were my parents when they conceived me and bitch, here I am,” Willam shrugged, nudging her shoulder against Sharon’s own. Sharon let out a laugh.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to convey.”

“I’m saying fuck my blood alcohol ratio and kiss me, goddamnit,” Willam muttered.

Without too much more encouragement, Sharon leaned in and did exactly as she was told. Willam’s lips were soft against hers and the way she took control made Sharon think perhaps she wasn’t as drunk as she was painting herself out to be. The kiss was slow and lazy, as if they had all the time in the world, and for a moment Sharon was convinced time really had frozen around them as they could have been kissing for seconds, minutes or hours. All she knew was that she never wanted to stop.

Willam rested a hand on Sharon’s thigh as she pulled away, smiling gently. Sharon hadn’t seen Willam look shy often. This was definitely a first.

“How much have you actually had to drink?” Sharon asked, remembering her earlier thought.

Willam let out a splutter, suddenly blushing. “One malibu and coke and four glasses of water.”

“Bitch!” Sharon exclaimed, Willam descending into chaos-inducing laughter beside her.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t be into me! Easier to pass off a failed seduction attempt when you’re drunk. I’m a good actress, what can I say,” Willam laughed, punctuating her final sentence with a shrug.

Sharon was suddenly filled with a swell of affection. She put an arm around Willam as the other girl rested her head on her shoulder.

“When do you fly home?"

"Got another week here,” Willam muttered, sounding suddenly tired.

“I want to get to know you,” Sharon said quietly, as if she was afraid that words would ruin everything. The sun was almost completely set now, the pink sky being overcome with black.

“I want you to rail me on my balcony,” Willam shrugged, and Sharon could tell she was only half-joking.

“There’s time for both those things,” Sharon kissed Willam on the top of her head, afraid to move her.

“Mm,” Willam nodded, her voice coated in sleep. Sharon didn’t know what time it was. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to. She enjoyed existing in this little time-exempt bubble with Willam, where flights home didn’t exist and real life was a distant memory.

“We should get you back to your room, baby.”

“Mmh, no. Wanna stay out here with you.”

So they both stayed on the sun lounger, Willam soon falling asleep and Sharon staying alertly awake until the black sky and platinum stars turned into blue and white with a yellow orb, not wanting to waste a single second in the company of the pink-haired girl asleep with her head on her lap and hoping that the upcoming week would drag slower than any she’d ever known.

#rpdr fanfiction #shillam #sharon needles #willam belli #lesbian au #oneshot #ortega #heatstroke

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macgregorhoughton · 3 years

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First off, thanks for sharing your headcanons, I love them! I'm really hoping theres gonna be ride references too, from the clips we're getting the puns at least. I'm gonna be watching the backgrounds for any sneaky references to the Society but I bet you're right, its going to be in there somewhere. I’m the same with the Native issue, I’m a bit worried how they’ll deal with it but hope they might have a bit of awareness and address how messed up some of the stereotypes the ride had were- cont

Response under the cut! (following asks copied there too for reference)

First of all before I respond to anything, you do not have to apologise. This is quite literally my dream way to spend my time- talking to someone about a thing I like at length. The fact that you checked all the posts I made and took time to respond to them with your thoughts means the world to me.

2- I’m also really hoping we get a lot for McGregor (wtf is with that alternate spelling Disney?? But I do want the other two to call him Mac, I’d love that), learning to relax and find his place. I LOVE that Lily gets to do physical comedy, you’re right female characters often only get to be funny so long as that means they can still be sexy while doing it. Lily looks like she just goes “nope” to that and dives headfirst into a bit of slapstick and I love her already- cont

3- I really like Dwayne, hes got a warmth to him that comes across in Frank, even if hes trying not to show it to the siblings at first. I really want proper sibling moments too and I love that little one we got in the clip. Like, “you don’t get to laugh at my sister, now excuse me while I go give her a hand while laughing at her”. Like thats a great example of having siblings, I’ll help you out, but I’m totally going to mock you while doing it, but no one else can. BTS have me hopeful too- cont

4- I love your idea for the coming out scene. I think they’d be walking a very fine line in order to get it right, but if they did it could be wonderful. I really really hope we get that scene, no skirting around it or making vague illusions, I want McGregor to say “I’m gay” outright. Like, we’ll all know he is even if they don’t let him say it but for once I want Disney to live up to what they promised and let an actual main character be actually gay.- cont

5- I love the connection with the lights for our trio in the posters, I didn't put that together. I really want them to be a proper Trio, I’m really hoping this is a success so we can get sequels. Even if they’re terrible I still want them to see these three together. FRANK IS HUGGING MCGREGOR, I’VE GOT A GOOD FEELING ABOUT THIS ALREADY. I don’t really have many thoughts on our three villains, other than I'm getting evil musketeer, smug plantation owner & WWII in that order- cont

6- I LOVE THAT GIF SET OF THE PUNS SO MUCH!! McGregor’s little smile and his laugh, hes loving it, Frank is loving getting a reaction, Lily is going to eventually find it funny how unfunny they are. I can’t get over how much I love McGregor’s little face in this, I can’t want for this scene, I’m gonna join you in imploding. Also, in your protective brother gifset, is he wearing a little tartan/ plaid suit? Love it. And on that note, I adore Lily’s costumes- practical and realistic but flattering

7- ok so thats me taken up far too much of your ask box, I haven't even property looked at the press tour things yet, but I do have one more thing, I have a theory about how Jack ends up in the middle of Emily and Dwayne's kiss if you'd like to hear it. Thanks for kickstarting this fandom and the wonderful gif sets, we're so close now! - Skip

So on to my very long response!

I've watched SO much about the ride just so I'm prepared to catch any reference. They just released Behind the Attraction on Disney+ and ep 1 is about the Jungle Cruise ride (Dwayne Johnson is in it too!). He talks about how much he loved the ride as a kid and used to imagine himself as a skipper which is SO cute and I'm so happy his dreams came true (and I find it very relatable as someone who dreams about being a raptor handler at Universal).

I'm genuinely a lil mad that the spelling changed. Because if you google it really everyone thought it was McGregor, they must've at some point released something on the movie for the press with that spelling and then changed their mind. Now everyone has it wrong because I suspect these featurettes are also gonna be the DVD/Bluray extras so I'm confident this is the final spelling. However I will continue to live in denial until I see the other spelling ON SCREEN.

"I really like Dwayne, hes got a warmth to him that comes across in Frank, even if hes trying not to show it to the siblings at first." Yes! I love that every character is a trope that I ADORE. Frank is the cynic who thinks everyone just wants to cheat you anyway and miracles don't exist who eventually cracks and warms up to people and shows that there is a soft, warm person in there after all. Lily is wildly optimistic and aggressively individualistic, not trying to fit in or caring about what anyone thinks and will probably have a moment of losing that optimism and doubting herself after all. And McGregor is the person who appears to think he's better than everyone, who's pampered and refuses to sacrifice any of the luxuries he's used to until he reveals he's gay and you realise most of it was just a show to cover up how hurt he really is. Three PEAK character tropes we're working with here and COMBINED with a reluctant-allies to lovers and a siblings trope.

"Like, “you don’t get to laugh at my sister, now excuse me while I go give her a hand while laughing at her”. Like thats a great example of having siblings, I’ll help you out, but I’m totally going to mock you while doing it, but no one else can" I have a gifset for that queued already, I love that you also focused on that rightaway bc I really went "Siblings! peak sibling energy!!" and gifed it immediately.

Based on the reports (that I cannot stress enough I have no idea how accurate they are) he doesn't say "gay" but it's unambiguous what he's talking about. Let's hope that's true! I'm imaginging some sort of "relationships with men" or "no interest in women but rather men" or sth like that. I hadn't really considered that it might be ambiguous to someone who doesn't know he's supposed to be gay so that's a new fear unlocked lmao

I'm going to be so sad if we don't get sequels cause so many franchises with several movies don't have a core group of actors that are just friends and get along as well naturally as these three. Or if we get more movies and Jack isn't in them or sth like that. Like any future where these three aren't the leading trio in more movies is a nightmare.

"I'm getting evil musketeer, smug plantation owner & WWII in that order" this sent me I swear. I'm most interested in Edgar Ramirez bc I'm curious abt the whole "conquistador alive "today"" thing. also what's up with the snakes lmao.

McGregor laughing at Frank's puns alone could sustain me another year if I had to wait that long for the movie. Luckily I don't have to. It is so wholesome tho, like the fact that they're gonna get along and also get closer and McGregor won't end up sidelined for being a bitch until the last minute or sth is so wonderful.

And yes! It's tartan! We've seen p little of the beginning of the movie in London and since that's gonna be focused on just Lily and McGregor I'm so excited bc we got so little content so there's gonna be SO much in the movie to look forward to that I can barely even piece together!!! (All we know is lily will steal the arrowhead before falling out of the window which mcgregor sees and he immediately follows her so I assume he knew to come there and that there's a scene where she asks him in one of their bedrooms about wanting to go on an adventure. So I'm assuming the bedroom scene comes first and she'll tell him about the arrowhead, he'll refuse to help her but decide to come last minute because he's worried about her (and the worry is immediately proven right as she falls out of a window lol). But we know so little that it's a really loose theory.

And yes!! Lily's costumes are so good. Frank calls her Pants so they will absolutely address that she's dressed very unusual for a woman of her status in 1916/17 and I hope they explore that a little and address where she even gets her clothes and everything. I mean Emily Blunt looks good in everything but the costume department really made something gorgeous with this. She is, for the time the movie is set in, very gender nonconforming which I love in a female lead. And Emily described Lily's fighting style as very Indiana Jones and brutal without much tactic or thinking and just brute force and I really would die for this characterisation. Like when I compare this to similar female leads like in The Mummy for example they're usually highly feminine, aggressive only in their attittude and witty banter but always emphasised to be beautiful and wearing dresses and lots of (usually historically inaccurate) makeup and they get like one scene where they smack the bad guy with sth heavy or sth so noone can say they're a damsel in distress even though they are. But Lily feels very much like a coherent person to me. She's very unusual for a woman at her time, her desire for adventure is in line with how she fights and dresses but she doesn't seem to have the "uwu I'm not like other girls" thing going on, she's just exactly who she is and wants to be.

and of COURSE I wanna hear your theory are you kidding! Cause I still haven't figured it out at all lmao. I just settled on "she probably meant he was off screen but right next to them while they filmed it" or sth bc I couldn't make sense of it otherwise.

also I haven't posted everything new directly here I think, but you probably know where to look for the new stuff. like there's some clips on their instagrams and most stuff is on youtube.

#you are keeping me sane here skip #I am not kidding when I say there's noone who's reasonably interested enough to listen to me talk this much and in depth about it #you are god sent i swear #ask #skip

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deathsteel · 3 years

Text

This Ain't a Scene Its a Goddamn Drag Race

~Part 3~

The response was almost Pavlovian, all five of the queens’ heads turned in sync to look at the large television mounted near the staircase that Gabby liked to make her entrances on. Kevin let out a little squeak of joy before he tossed down his tweezers and started the mad scramble of the queens to the little ‘X’ that had been taped on the floor by the production crew to mark where the contestants should stand.

Castiel remembered when they had first started all of this the fourteen original queens had jostled and elbowed each other viciously for a spot up front where the cameras could see them, now he and the others just aligned themselves in a ragged semi-circle. With every elimination it felt more and more like they were being lined up to be executed or maybe he was just being dramatic.

The mounted television flared to life with an empty glaringly pink background before Gabby’s image was seen marching onto the screen from the left hand side, doing a sharp turn to face the camera that made her signature honey blonde beehive wobble just a bit on the top of her head.

‘Ten-hut, ladies! It’s time to slap on your war paint and get down to business. Betta make sure your Louboutins are spit shined and your weaves are stitched in tight ‘cause ‘don’t fuck it up’ is about to become F.U.B.A.R. So look alive soldier, the time for pussy footin’ around is oh-ver.’

The video ended with Gabby arching a shrewd eyebrow before she smirked and then burst into those distinctive giggles of hers and the screen faded to black.

“What the...are we sodding enlisting or something?” Balthazar muttered loud enough for his microphone to pick up, but soft enough to still sound as if he was just thinking out loud.

It was all strategy, every move the queens made or thought they voiced aloud and Castiel knew that in the end it would all be chopped together in the editing booth to make someone into the villain for America to hate and someone else into a victim. Castiel still felt like Holly Cummunion was on a see-saw, like if he pissed off one more producer they would make him look like the world’s biggest bitch and god if he lost this….well, then what? Then he’d be single, broke, and worst of all unpopular.

He could hear the other queens murmuring to themselves or each other about what Gabby’s message could possibly mean, but Castiel had a feeling that today at least they wouldn’t have to wait too terribly long for their host to show up to break it down for them. Time to turn on Holly.

“Well, helllooo, ladyboys,” Gabby’s melodious voice rang out in greeting (still carrying a hint of that Nashville twang despite the host’s years of living on the west coast).

The host was defrocked, dragged down to his street attire like he always was during the mini-challenges and when Gabby decided to take a turn around the workroom to offer the queens tidbits of advice. That didn’t mean that the other man wasn’t looking stylish as fuck; with his chin length golden brown hair slicked back and a pair of fashionable black framed glasses perched on his nose, Gabby looked every inch the sinful professor in his dark purple suit, paisley print waistcoat, anda heather grey dress shirt that made the subtle streaks of silver in the host’s hair look dapper instead of depressing.

“Hello, Gabby!” The queens replied back sort of in unison, they were getting better at it with each passing episode.

Gabby descended the stairs, regal as anything, before giving the queens his most sparkling, pageant-winning smile. “Now, I’m sure you’re all gagging to hear what we have in store for you and kittens, I hope you had your Wheaties this morning because today you’re going to...drag booty camp.”

Inwardly, Castiel groaned because he was hungover and his morning run had already taken just about everything out of him, but outwardly Holly cooed excitedly along with Kim who was standing at her side. Kim gave an excited little shimmy, and fuck Holly wished she had the energy of a twenty year old again.

“Oh, Pit Crew!” Gabby called, cupping his hands around his mouth as he called for Sam and Zeke who were regular fixtures in most of the mini and elimination challenges.

The host clapped his hands excitedly when the two tall, well-muscled men appeared looking like they had just been slathered with baby oil all over their bodies except for the black Saxx briefs they were wearing. And honestly those didn’t leave too terribly much to the imagination. Sam’s hair was swept up into an artfully messy bun on top of his head and Zeke’s was just tousled enough that it didn’t distract from his light scruff on his face.

By now the queens were so used to the two men, having gotten to know them on a personal level that flirting with them was just weird, but that didn’t stop them from doing some appreciative whistles for appearances sake when the pair came through a set of swinging doors at the end of the working room pushing a rack of pink outfits on hangers.

“As you can see, the boys have been nice enough to put together some outfits for you ladies for booty camp,” Gabby continued as Sam and Zeke rolled the cart to a stop a couple of feet away from the contestants before going to stand casually on either side of the host. All their muscles were flexed, so really...it wasn’t that casual. “And of course you’ll be wearing heels from my own line of Iron Angel shoes and bras from BreastForm.com because you can’t go to battle without a good stiletto and a pair of bazookas. Am I right?”

God, it was the cheesiest joke. But of course they all laughed because it was a joke told by Gabby fuckin’ Reale. One made sure to laugh at all of mother’s jokes.

“Chop-chop, girls,” Gabby said, snapping his fingers in a Z-formation to get the queen’s attention once more. “Get dressed ‘cause booty camp waits for no one.”

Holly let herself be mostly pushed towards the rack of clothes and shoes by Kim who seemed way more enthusiastic for the mini-challenge than anyone had any right to be. She snatched off a hanger that had a sweatband with the name ‘Holly Cummunion’ stitched on it in lurid curlicues and claimed the heels that were placed on a low platform beneath it that just happened to be in her size, 11.

“Oh my god, I was not in the mood for a tuck today!” Tasha exclaimed, waving around the barely there pink, spandex booty shorts that accompanied every one of the queen's outfits. “Even God rested on the seventh day.”

Weirdly enough Eva snorted at that and much like her male alter-ego, Luc, Eva was not one to do much other than be catty, standoffish, and sulk. “Girl, did you just compare your dick to God?”

“Well, if it don’t get some time to breathe soon then he’s gonna be meeting his maker for sure, honey,” Tasha explained, stripping out of her street attire which honestly wasn't that much different than the outfit the queens were supposed to be wearing for the mini-challenge.

“Fuck, I didn’t shave my legs this morning,” Dianne cursed as she dug through her trunks of clothes presumably for some hosiery.

“Just put some leggings on,” Kim advised the other queen, tugging a pair of wrinkled, grey tights out of her makeup case. “All of our legs are gonna be put to shame by Holly Thunderthighs anyway.”

Holly just smirked to herself because yea, she did have some pretty great fucking legs and at least she had remembered to shave her legs this morning even if she hadn’t had time to shave her face.

“I look like my mother,” Eva announced loudly, causing the distracted queens to look up from where they were stuffing and tucking themselves into the various pieces of their outfits. The other queen was wearing several pairs of nude hosiery along with her heels and tiny shorts and just her bra that had been pre-stuffed with rubber breast forms.

“Poor woman,” Holly replied before anyone else could because really it was just too good of an opportunity to mess with Eva to pass up.

The older queen sneered at Holly in the reflection of the mirror before going back to looking at her chest, giving a little bounce on her toes to make the rubber jiggle.

Holly scoffed at her rival before reaching back to tug her shirt over his head, mindful of the tape on her back that was holding her microphone pack in place. She debated the pros of doing an actual tuck as she shucked her pants and briefs in one go, uncaring of the film crew meandering around the room or the other queens seeing her nudity. Being in the workroom was a lot like being in a high school locker room, generally unsexy unless you were watching badly scripted porn.

“Ten minutes ladies!” Gabby called from where he casually leaned against the bannister of the staircase talking to Sam.

Swearing under her breath, Holly did probably the hastiest tuck of her career; getting her gaff mostly in place before maneuvering her balls up in a way that wouldn’t be excruciating and pulling her dick back between her legs and pulling up the gaff up the rest of the way to hold the whole package in place. Taking advantage of her newly shaven legs, she opted for a pair of shapewear panties instead of tights to keep her gaff from falling down her decidedly unfeminine hips and then quickly threw on the rest of her provided outfit sans shoes which she carried to the mirror with her so she could slap on some lipstick before she ran out of time completely.

“Shit, my titty!” Kim cursed, frantically wiping at the left side of her tank top where her eyeliner had apparently gotten away from her while she had been trying to apply it one handed, using the others to adjust her slightly dingy looking tights.

“Oh honey,” Holly replied sympathetically, in her beleaguered Southern belle falsetto, for the sake of the cameras hovering around them of course. “Bless your heart, you’re just a hot fucking mess.”

“Holly, haaaalp,” Kim whined piteously enough to cause Holly to pause in her own lipstick application to rifle into the gigantic toolbox that served as her makeup case, pulling out a Tide To-Go stick and tossing it to the younger queen with just a raised eyebrow in response to her thanks.

“One minute girls!” Gabby called, letting his fingertips tiptoe lazily across Sam’s abs with a sigh before moving back to his own assigned ‘X’ that was taped on the floor.

“Guess that’s gonna have to be good enough,” Holly muttered to herself, swiping her pinky along the thin wings she’d just painted onto the corners of her eyes before popping her headband messily into place over her natural hair and rushing back to the lineup with her shoes in hand.

“Alright my dah-lings,” Gabby said, ignoring the fact that Holly was basically tripping into her shoes and that Tasha was still flipping a wig onto her head while Eva continued to fondle her own breast forms. “Now that you’re all ready for battle I have a special guest who has a little bit more experience with drilling things then I do. Please welcome Marine Corps Sergeant Benoit “The Bear” Lafitte.”

#fic writing #spn fanfiction #destiel fanfiction #rpdr au #gd drag race

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mynotsoawesomescenarios · 8 years

Text

Signs of Paradise

A/N: Okay, but Mark’s voice in Paradise (you know what part I’m talking about) makes me think about...things that will be mentioned in this fic.

And just to give you a vivid setting for the club. Imagine the set from Girlsx3 and then the garage(?) from Never Ever, then it’ll make sense.

~Admin Allie

"Y/N, get off of your ass and get dressed." Your friend Nora walked out of the bathroom and was dressed in cute shorts with a plain white crop top on. She looked at you as you sulked on the couch in the suite and shook her head at you.

"But why? We've only been here for a few hours and I want to sleep." You had no reason to be so sleepy. You had gotten a lot of sleep the night before your flight, during the flight and you even started to doze off once again before Nora was fussing at you about getting dressed.

"Why do you want to sleep when we just got to Miami?"

"Because we just got to Miami. Why can't we just take it easy for the night and then use the rest of the week for our wild adventures?" She shook her head at you in disapproval.

"No, you're getting dressed. Right now." She pulled you off of the sofa and pushed you into the room you would be calling your own for the next week. She opened your untouched suitcase and looked through your clothes. "All you bought were jeans and tee shirts?" You shrugged at her.

"You know I don't wear all those fancy things like dresses and... heels." You pushed out the last word to show your distaste for them. She pulled out a pair of your tattered jeans and a big, semi-sheer white shirt that said "Punks not dead" on the front.

"Throw this on and put on your dirty ass Chuck's. You'll have to go with the 'I-don’t-give-a-fuck-but-I'll-fuck-you' look." You sluggishly dragged your feet across the soft carpet that sank under your every step. You pulled off your comfy airplane clothes and put on the clothes that Nora had laid out for you. When you finished dressing yourself, Nora touched up your tragic hair and made it look messy but in a good and presentable way. She stepped back from you and looked at you.

"Hmm, do you wanna throw on some makeup?"

"I don't really care. What do you th-"

"Yes." She ran to the bathroom quickly and got a few of her makeup products. You watched her wipe off a few of the things with an alcohol prep and take out one of her disposable spoolies to apply your mascara. She just put a tittle eyeliner on you and smeared it out to give you a sultry look. When she finished with your eyes, she applied a deep wine color to your lips. "Okay, we're done."

"Thank you."

You two stood outside of the club after you got out of the Uber and looked around the place. It was almost completely empty outside and it was too quiet to be where a club was.

"Are you sure this is the place," you asked her while looking around for signs of a club.

"Yeah, I'm sure. It's one of those secret clubs." She placed her hand on your lower back which told you to walk along with her. "It's in a sound proof basement." She pulled open the door to a run down building and you both walked in. She looked down to her phone and told you that you needed to go to the door in the back of the store. The place was old and dusty, it made you uncomfortable.

"Are you sure this is where we should be?" You usually trusted Nora's judgment but this one time where you didn’t feel too confident in her. "I don't wanna be killed on the first day of our vacation." She pulled you to the back of the store and placed her hand on the rusted knob. When she pulled open the door, you saw a stairway that was lit up by green glow sticks. She started to walk down the stairs and all you now heard was the clicking of her heels on the steps. You followed her slowly and reluctantly, ready to bolt out just incase you saw her get snatched up by someone. You loved Nora, but there would be no sense in trying to fight off a kidnapper for her. You would be better off leaving and calling the cops.

At the end of the stair was another door but this door was clearly new and had a sign on it.

"Take a glowstick," you read out loud. You looked at the wall and picked up two, handing one to Nora. She pushed open the heavy door and as soon as she did you could hear the soft muffle of loud music. The walls of this short hallway looked to have scrap metal from a plane wreck on the walls and white fluorescent tube lights on the floor. At the end of the hall, you were met with the last door. She looked back at you with slight worry and you raised your eyebrows.

"We're already came here, no use in bitching out now." She nodded and pushed open the door with more strength than was probably required. As soon as the door opened you heard the loud house music booming. You two walked in and you noticed immediately that it wasn't a usually club. The décor just didn’t make sense at all. The walls were all concrete and had huge pillars on each side. There were wire fences on either side, giving the place a very trapped feeling. It was also very long and didn’t feel very welcoming. When you walked deeper into the club, you saw a glass box that was filled with plastic plants and go-go dancers. The seating area was made of deconstructed cars and had gas masks that were connected to hookahs and bongs.

"What kind of club is this, Nora?" You held on to her arm as she walked to the bar, ready to party.

"I don’t know but everything looks so cool. And the music is so good." She laughed at you with excitement. "Hmm, let's stay sober tonight, yeah?" You nodded at her and told her that you'd take a coke. "Two cokes please," she asked to the man at the bar. "Let's go find a seat." She grabbed your drinks and headed for the rest area. "It says that this place gets super packed around this time so let's sit here until more, and cuter, people arrive." You agreed with her as you held out your hand, asking for your drink without speaking.

Minutes later, the place was filled with people, most of which headed for the dance floor as soon as they entered. The place was lively and the way people behaved drastically contrasted the way the place looked. The people who danced were having the time of their lives and it made you jealous of them. You stood up from your seat and stretched. "Let's go dance." You pulled Nora along and started moving your body to the song. You didn’t know it yourself but you quickly caught on when everyone started screaming "GO HIGHER!" and going crazy. You were jumping up and down with Nora and laughing with random strangers, the excitement from the music hitting you to the core.

After a few more amazing songs you and Nora took your sweaty bodies to the bar and asked for two bottles of cold water. You two were falling all over one another, laughing for no reason, just because of the pure fun you were having tonight. You got your waters and guzzled them down. As you sipped, some water escaped the corner of your lip and ran down your jaw, neck and eventually collarbone. You wiped the water up with back of your hand. When you bought your hand down you felt someone's thigh under your palm. You quickly jumped away and looked to the stranger to apologize. He looked unphased and gave you a cute smile.

"It's okay." His smiled widened as you kept staring at him. "Three waters please." He held up three of his slender fingers toward the bartender. You tried to rip our eyes off of him but the more you looked at him, the more attractive he got.

"What's your name," you asked him way more abruptly than you meant to. He chuckled at your eager voice.

"Jinyoung," he said with a smile. "What is yours?" You picked up on an accent in his voice this time.

"Y/N." He smiled at you and looked like he was going to say something but his head turned away from you. You looked in his direction and you saw two other men walking in your direction. They greeted you and Nora with polite smiles as they stood next to Jinyoung.

"These are my friends, Mark and Jackson." They both waved to you and continued to smile.

"My name is Y/N, and this is my friend Nora." The boys all started to chuckle and stared at her in surprise. "D-do you guys know Nora?" She shook her head to tell you that she didn’t know them.

"We know a Nora," Mark informed,"but she's a cat." Mark's accent was different from Jinyoung's and it made you wonder exactly where they were from.

"I don’t want this to sound rude, but where are you guys from? I can't really place your accents."

"I'm from Hong Kong, Mark is from LA and Jinyoung is from South Korea. That's where we all live now. We're here for vacation." You slightly gawked at them not only amazed that they were all from different places but also because you never meet anyone outside of people from your own country.

"That's so cool!" You said with a touch of too much excitement. You tried to pull it back a little but everyone was looking at you with endearing smiles.

"Excuse my friend," Nora started, "she's not used to hot foreign guys." You lightly elbowed her and tried to hush her.

"Do you guys live around here? We could use someone to show us around."

"No, we're from this country but not this state. But, Nora is good at finding all of the cool places. She somehow found this one."

"This place is dope, it reminds me of a video we filmed once." Mark looked around the club as if he was looking back on good memories.

"Video?" Nora questioned. "You guys some kind of small time filmmakers."

"Kpop singers," Jinyoung said confidently.

"Singers?"

"We rap," Jackson pointed to himself and Mark. "Jinyoung is the singer here."

"Our group is Got7," Jinyoung said proudly.

"Hmm," Nora was clearly skeptical of them. You couldn’t blame her. These pretty guys just came up to you and told you that they are kpop singers, it wasn’t the easiest plot to believe. You saw Nora pull out her phone and start typing away on the screen. You looked down and saw that she started to do her research on them.

"You can't just google them when they're right here." You scolded her just a little, almost embarrassed of her actions. "Sorry..." Mark shook his head.

"No, we get it. It's hard to bel-"

"Holy shit, you are famous!" They all chuckled and nodded at her.

"We wouldn’t say famous but thank you." Jackson looked at Nora with a wide smile.

"Why don't we ask the DJ to play some of your music?" They looked at one another and had looks of worry on their faces.

"I don’t know." Jinyoung lost the confidence he had before and looked down at his fingers that played with the neck of the water bottle.

"They've been playing music in all kinds of languages all night. These people can dance to anything with a good beat." They all looked at you, still a bit scared of what the people in the club would think about their music. "Do you have any songs you think the people would like?"

"Maybe a few songs from ours most recent album? Some of the songs are good for dancing." Jackson spoke up, unsure of himself.

"Name a few songs off of it, we'll see if the DJ would be willing to play it."

"All of them except for tracks four and six."

"Hmm, okay, we'll see what the DJ says. I'm sure he'll decide to play some of your song." You reassured them before you and Nora walked to the DJ's booth. He was open to suggestions and said that he would play the music after one of his people listened to it to make sure it was exciting enough to keep up the energy of the club. You listed the songs off to the DJ's apprentice and when you got to a specific song, he stopped you.

"I know all of these songs! We played one of the earlier! I'll get him to play some of them soon."

"Yay! Thank you so much!" Nora grabbed you by your wrist and headed back to the guys who were now sitting at the table you and Nora were sitting at originally. She sat down excitedly and gave them the good news.

"The guy shadowing the DJ knows your music so he'll play it soon!" The boys looked at one another, excited. They thanked the both of you multiple times.

"It's no problem, good music deserves to be heard." When you looked at Mark he was staring at you with a look you couldn’t read. When you made eye contact with him, he shook his head and looked away before licking his lips nervously.

While you waited for their songs to come on, you all conversed about random topics. You learned that Jinyoung was a celebrity longer than the other two, Jackson was supposed to be some kind of fencing prodigy and Mark was good at Martial Arts tricks. They way they talked to you and Nora in such a comfortable manner, as if you had known them for a while. But what seemed even more strange was how well you were getting along with strangers in a club while all of you were completely sober.

"...but we had to get rid of Nora and now we have Coco because Youngjae is all-" Jinyoung stopped his rant about trading in a quiet cat for a dog that pissed on everything. You tilted your head to the side and watched him as his face grew bright. "That's our song. That’s our song Never Ever!" The boys started to giggle with excitement. You all walked to the dance floor and found yourselves in the middle of the crowd.

"Shall we dance~" Jinyoung sung along and held his hand out to Nora and she started dancing with him. Your energy picked up once again and you danced freely to the music, watching the boys as they had random burst of in sync choreo. They started doing a sexy shoulder dance and Mark gave you a flirtatious smirk as he did it.

"If you're trying to seduce me, you're gonna have to try way harder." He chuckled at you and stopped dancing to get closer to you.

"You sure it didn't work? Not even a little bit?" He smiled at you and bought his hands to your hips, making a bold and sudden move. Your breath hitched a bit, clearly affected by Mark's hands on your body. After the first song went off, the club was brought down a little by a song with a sexy, tropical vibe to it. "Dance with me."

You started to sway your hips while he still had a hold on them. At first your moves were small and hesitant but the song unexpectedly took you over. He looked down to your hips as you danced, mesmerized by the way you moved them. He spun you around and started to softly grind into you, not being to eager or overly sexual with his dancing. He kept his hands on you and a few times he would slightly push you forward to keep you from getting him a little too excited. As you danced, he placed his lips next to your ear. He started to say a line from the song in a low, deep voice.

"I don’t know what you're thinking right now. It's about time we both go out and do something about it, you know?" You almost fell to your knees. His voice was so smooth and seductive. And to have it so close to your ear was indescribable. He smirked at your reaction and held on to you tighter.

"So, you want to leave?" You asked him, turning your face to be way to close to his. He was undoubtedly a beautiful man but his looks up close were extraordinary. Everything about his features made you wonder how someone could be so handsome.

"Yeah, if that’s fine with you."

"Yeah!" You said with too much excitement. "I mean, yeah, that'd be cool." He laughed at your attempt to not look like a total spaz. "Uh, lemme just go get Nora. We promised we wouldn’t split up for this trip, it's too risky." You looked at him, slightly apologetic since you couldn’t just drag him to wherever and fuck him.

"I understand," he nodded and let you go. He stayed behind you as you made your way to Nora, who was still dancing with Jinyoung and Jackson. They looked like they were having so much fun, laughing like a group of friends that knew each other for longer than they could remember. You didn’t want to break up their fun so you decided you ask them to come to the hotel as well.

"Hey, wanna take this party back to our suite?" You looked at Nora with pleading eyes. You knew she would question you but with the way you looked at her and held on to Mark's hand, she smirked at you, understanding you immediately.

"Yeah! You guys wanna come along?" Nora asked the two men directly. They nodded.

"But we have to leave after you guys do, just in case someone knows who we are," Jackson told you.

"That’s fine. Um, I'll text Mark the address and you guys can leave in...twenty minutes?" They all agreed to the plan. "Can I see your phone?" Mark went into his pocket and unlocked the phone before handing it to you. You put in your number and sent a text of his name to yourself. You handed it to him and he accepted it with a smile. "You smile a lot," you said with a giggle. " I like that." You walked away and you felt Mark's eyes one you.

As you and Nora left the club and headed back up the staircase, your phone called for your attention. But before you could look at it, Nora started talking to you.

"Are you gonna fuck him?"

"Nora!"

"What!?"

"...maybe. Hopefully. Have you heard his voice? Oh my god."

"You're gonna have sex with him because of his voice when he's that hot? That’s new."

"Don't get me wrong, he's very attractive, but his voice is..amazing."

You and Nora got outside as soon as your Uber pulled up to the club. The car was silent and made you remember to check your phone.

*What are we doing when we get back to your place?* Your fingers hovered over you phone, not knowing what your response should be.

*Have sex????* Delete.

*Chill, I guess* Delete.

*Whatever you want ;)* Ew. Delete. Nora looked at you and noticed that you seemed to be having an inner conflict.

"What?"

"He texted me and I don’t know what to say."

"Lemme see." You handed her the phone and watched as she typed away. You wanted to see what she wrote before she sent it but she didn’t let you see it and sent it without your consent.

"Nora!"

"Stop screaming at me!" You looked at the text she sent.

*You'll just have to come and see, don't you?* You had to admit, it was way better than anything you had planned on sending him. You sent him a follow up message with the address of the hotel.

As soon as you arrived to the hotel, you got a text from Mark, letting you know that they were now on their way to you. You glanced at the text before going to your room put quickly clean up the mess that Nora had made earlier while looking for clothes for you to wear. As time went on, you got more nervous, not having any idea how things should go with him.

"I mean, do I just drag him to my room and then we have sex? Or do we stay in the common room for a bit and then I show him my bedroom eyes and then bring him here? Oh go-" You looked to the bed and saw your phone buzzing. Mark was calling you. "He's calling, why is he calling? Who calls people anymore?" Nora held the phone up to her ear and answered it for you.

"Hello? No, Y/N is on the bathroom." You hit her arm and silently scolded her. "What was I supposed to say," she mouthed. "Mmhm, we're in room thirteen o'eight. Yup, see you soon."

"I feel like I could die."

"Oh god, it's just a one night stand, you are overthinking this by a long shot."

You stayed in your room for a little. Just as you were getting up, you heard a knock at the door.

"Yeah?" You heard the door knob turn and Mark peeked his head in.

"Can I come in?"

"Oh! Yeah, sure." You sat up on the side of the bed while he came in and closed the door behind him. "I didn't know you guys were here already." You really had no idea. You didn’t hear them come in and no one called for you.

"Well, we just got here and Nora told me to come to your room."

"Oh? She did?"

"Yeah." He sat next to you. The way the bed went down made your body shift closer to him. You were now sitting shoulder to shoulder. "So, what are our plans for tonight?" He said to you with a voice that was clearly shaky. He fidgeted with his fingers and looked around the room, avoiding your eyes.

You reached out for his hand and laced your fingers into his. "I don't know. What do you want to do?" You cringed at yourself. You felt like a teenager who was trying to make a move on prom night and it was so awkward, but in a somewhat cute way.

Mark examine your hand that clasped onto his. He lifted your hand to his lips and softly kissed it. He laughed at how cheesy it was. You mirrored his actions and kissed his hand.

"Ooh, romantic." He said, making you laugh harder than you should.

"Shut up," you said, kissing his wrist this time. Your kisses made their way up his arm and eventually to the part of his shoulder that joined with his neck. You laid soft kisses at the base of his neck before looking at him again.

"So that’s what you want to do?" His voice was lower this time and his nerves were gone.

"Yes." With those words, he let go of your hand and brought them to your waist. He rubbed on your clothed torso for a while before sliding his warm fingers under your loose shirt. His fingers softly gripped your ribs as his thumbs played with the bottom of your bra. He watched your face as you enjoyed his simple touches and fingers that danced across your smooth, warm skin. As his eyes searched your face, he couldn’t help but admire your beauty.

"You are so stunning." His voice was sensual and serious, it was satisfying to you ears but made you crave more.

He pushed his body weight into you and you slowly laid back on to the bed. His hands were still all over your body when he leaned in to kiss your lips. He approached you in a relaxed way, making it obvious that he wanted his time with you to last a long. He lips finally met yours and they were so soft and welcoming. He added a light pressure to your lips as you kissed and lingered in it for a few seconds before pulling back to give you another one. He kissed you like this a few times, skillfully using my muscles in his lips to make them perfectly firm for the kisses that made your heart jump.

You opened your mouth, making him escalate things a bit and when you did he slipped his tongue into your mouth. Your tongue mingled with his and you got a taste of the fresh flavor of spearmint. You hummed into the kiss and the movement of his hands got bolder. He groped at your breast that were still confined by your bra and held them tightly in the palm of his hand.

He decided to pick up the pace of things and pulled off his shirt before helping you take off your own. You placed your hands in front of his pants and undid his belt before quickly undoing the button and zipper on his jeans. He smiled down at you and looked at you as you hungrily undressed him. Once you were done with his pants, he laid on top of you.

"You can take your time. We have all night baby." His words made your breathing stop. His velvety voice made wetness pool between your legs. Yes, Mark was a beautiful man and his looks alone would make you want him, but his voice was unreal. It made you feel like you were under a spell every time he spoke to you in that low tone.

"Okay," you said to him, now willing to listen to and obey his every word.

He stood off of the bed and dropped his pants to his ankles. He shyly removed his briefs and looked at you while you stared at his cock. You saw his face redden a bit and you chuckled at his expression.

"Don't laugh because I'm about to make you feel the same way," he said with a joking tone.

He worked on your jeans quickly and pulled them down along with your panties. As he remained standing, he stroked your thighs and hips, watching as his slender fingers glided over your skin. He got back on the bed and pushed his hands between your thighs. He pried them apart and the cool air made you realize how turned on you were.

He stared at your pussy with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. You started to feel how he felt moments ago when you were admiring his package

"Mark, stop." You tried to close your legs but he pushed them down, opening your legs even further. His head dived between your legs and his face was so close that you could feel the breath from his nose at your entrance. He lifted his middle finger to your clit and circled it slowly. He moved his finger down and plunged it deep inside of you, all the way down to his last knuckle. He twisted his finger inside if you a few times before pumping it in and out. He soon added another finger and you began to moan, happy to feel your pussy stretch a little more. He lowered his lips to meet your clit and he sucked on it and gave it a few licks with his stiff tongue. While he sucked on it, he quickened the pace of his fingers. Your panting began and your chest rose and fell quickly, edging onto your release. With a few more thrust of his fingers, you came. He looked up to you with a sexy gaze. He lifted his fingers to his lips and hummed at the taste of your pussy.

He laid next to you with his back up against the backboard of the bed. He tapped his leg, inviting you to get on top of him. You climbed on and wrapped your arms around his neck. You lowered yourself on to him while you kissed him, both of you moaning into the other's mouths. You were still so sensitive from before and you were sure to be done soon. His cock seemed to be made for you because even without moving you had gotten so much pleasure from him.

You started to rock your hips back and forth slowly, allowing yourself to feel every vein and contour of his cock go in you and slide out of you with ease. Mark held on to your behind as you rode him, gripping it tightly because of the pleasure he was receiving from you. You moved your hips quicker and rougher, chasing after the release that was guaranteed to hit you soon. He kissed on your breast as they bounced in front of his face and gave you love bites on your collarbone as he tried to hush his groans. The attention he was showing to you is what made you tighten around his member.

"Don’t hold it in baby, let it go." His voice was strained because of the lack of air in his lungs but it was still sexy enough to make you cum for him. Your body stilled as you experienced your second orgasm. Mark was moving under you, impatient and wait for his own release. He pushed you back into the bed and started to fuck you hard. He pounded into you roughly and his warm breath grazed against your neck as he graced your ears with his beautiful groans. "Uh, fuck." His thrust were no longer precise and controlled, they were irregularly timed and spastic. A few strokes later, you felt him spill into you, every last drop being delivered to the deepest part of your pussy.

He stayed inside of you until he regained enough strength in his knees to pull out and roll over to the other side of the bed.

"Oh my god," you exclaimed.

"Jesus christ," he said, chest still quickly rising and falling. The room was silent for a while before he began to speak. "Uh, is this a one time thing? Because... I don’t want it to be." He laughed nervously.

"Hm, I don’t think it will be."

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