#we hung out twice before he went back to uni and had a lot of fun but I wasn't flirting at all

[nadjabear]

Girls when they think they have a good friendship with a man but then they start to like you romantically (I’m girls)

[heshoes]

She was his best friend and they shared everything together already anyway. What difference would it make if it were a hat, shampoo, or the same bed sometimes? So what? That's what the Uni Daze were about, having fun, traditions, getting serious, new relationships, friendships, heart ache, break-ups, make ups, secrets, the occasional/casual bajingo here and there, and possibly, just maybe, finding the love of your life and hoping that it all works out.

Warnings: smut, slow burn, angst, mentions of abortion, mentions of verbal abuse

Harry Styles x OC (Face claim Zendaya)

Uni Daze Masterlist

Chapter 1 (Word Count 4k)

Harry

Water droplets cascaded down my neck before I grabbed a towel to throw over my head. That shower was definitely needed. My muscles would be sore from my workout this morning, but I enjoy the ache. As I headed towards my room to put on clothes I noticed that my roommates door was still closed and for Michelle this can only mean one thing.

I pulled up my trousers and pulled my t-shirt over my head before layering it with a plaid button up. If she doesn't wake up soon, I'll be forced to take measures into my own hands. I walked halfway down the hall and then stopped to pick up the beanie that I let Michelle borrow last night. The hat was carelessly tossed on the floor along with a t-shirt of hers and a pink-ish orange lace bra. This was just one of the many downsides of living with a woman. Even if she is your best mate, finding the occasional bras and panties mixed into your clothes on laundry day can put a damper on your chances of trying and talk to a girl if you don’t have a washer and drier in house, and lets not even mention those four to five days out of the month when a tampon box is left on the bathroom sink and you have to explain that to a date. Not thinking, I picked all of the items up before I dropped the shirt and bra on the ground, feeling somewhat awkward touching something that was so close in contact with Michelle's...intimate bits.

"Michelle?!" No answer…

"Mitchell?! Wake up you're gonna be late for our first class!”

I laughed to myself at her lack of response before I sauntered back down the hall to my room grabbing the Ultimate Alarm; a fog horn that Michelle, the lads, and I nabbed from a school footie game. We each have one and have all have organized to use it with each other when the drink has made us more sluggish than functional.

Not much has changed since the first day I met Michelle. She's the only one here that I've met who seems to have stayed the same throughout all the three years of university that I've known her....That can be looked at as both a good and a bad thing.

Shaking the foghorn with devilish delight and biting my cheeks so that I wouldn't blow my cover, my feet stopped in front of her door once again. I cracked the entrance slightly sticking my arm in the room and turning my head away to shield my ears as much as possible from the noise. As soon as I pressed the button to sound it off, I heard a loud thudding sound followed by cursing. If she wasn't up before, she's up now.

"WHAT THE FUCK, HAZLAND?!”

I ran back to my room to put the horn down and grab my bag. This is the first year that I haven't strained my back to pick it up. Fouth year with a lighter load but more studying than I did in all the other three years combined seems pretty backwards to me, but I won't complain.

"What time is it?”

"Half- Oh-“

Michelle emerged from her room looking worse for wear. Her hair was in a nest atop her head and she only wore a long sleeved burgundy t-shirt and a black pair of boy short knickers on her lithe, lanky frame. I  swallowed deeply and turned my head away not expecting her to be so scantily clad. The colors contrasted with her warm honey/caramel skin tone and it was only then that I took in how much of her skin was actually showing. I've seen her naked before but it was an accident and brief. Very brief. I only saw her outlines really, nothing of real importance... not that I was trying to look or anything.

"Half past eight. Go put on trousers! I don't want to see your bajingo!”

Michelle primped her dry lips at me prior to moistening them with a swipe of her tongue, making sure to flip her middle finger up in my direction before she disappeared back into her room.

"Everyone wants to see my bajingo Harry and that's plenty of time for me to get ready. You didn't have to use the Ultimate Alarm. It's not like I was in a drug induced coma!”

"I called you twice but you didn't answer. I thought that-“

I trailed off my words as a gorgeous blonde walked out of Michelle's room. Her hair was tussled and she was scrambling to adjust her skirt as Michelle looked at me with a tightlipped grin, feeling out the room.Michelle walked her secret house guest to the door and gave her a lingering kiss that caused the girl to stand on tip toe before awkwardly waving a goodbye to her and shutting the door. I was left stunned.

"Pick your jaw up off the floor Styles!”

"That- that was a girl.”

“Yes."

"She was your friend?”

“No."

Michelle walked into the kitchen grabbing an orange juice carton out of the refrigerator. She took a sip straight from the jug causing me to grimace before she rolled her eyes at me and grabbed a  red solo cup. I was only momentarily distracted before I continued on my previous trail of thought.

"But, you were...and she…"

"Yes Harry, spit it out come on. You're almost there. I know it. I can feel it”

"She was putting her clothes back on.”

Michelle nodded her head in agreement as she continued to guzzle the rest of our citrusy, pulp free juice. After she finished it, she tossed the empty plastic to me and then walked out of the kitchen. I was right by the bin but set the cup on the countertop as my brain continued to navigate through what I think I want to ask.

"You didn't have on many clothes…"

"No, Harry. Neither of us did last night.”

Michelle folded her arms while squinting at me. The hint she's dropped allows what comes out of my mouth next to be uninhibited and honestly sound a bit too over zealous about the idea.

"You had sex with her?”

Michelle nodded her head up and down grinning slightly. Almost a smug look on her face I would say. She hadn't been in a relationship in a while. The last one I remember was when she was with my best mate Louis. It's how I met her as a matter of fact. Michelle and Louis are virtually the same person. It's freaky sometimes. She could be a reincarnate of him as a girl. They were inseparable, but when it ended it ended badly. I'm still not clear on the reason why. Neither of them will talk about it, but I managed to stay neutral in the whole situation and still be able to carry on a friendship with both of them. I'm still good friends with Lou, but he doesn't come around as much since I moved in with Michelle. Me and her got on so well while her and Louis dated it was hard not to become friends with her as well. Louis moved on and moved in with his bird earlier this year and I haven't really seen Michelle with anyone...Until now.

"So-so, you're a lesbian then?”

"Yes Harry. I've 'switched teams' as they say.”

"Since when?” I was just so shocked.

"Since over the summer...Does it bother you?” Michelle looked down at the ground and scratched the back of her neck as if she were bracing herself if I said it did and to be honest I was slightly offended that she’d think that way of me.

“No… No, I just never saw you with anyone over the summer.”

I could hear a sigh of relief escape Michelle’s lips as she turned to leave the front door.

I could have sworn she only hung out with me and the lads when Louis wasn't around. She hung out with us so much and we'd gotten so comfortable around her that we actually started counting her as one of the guys and calling her 'Mitch' or 'Mitchell' instead of Michelle. She always pretends to get cross with us when we called her that, but she can never keep a straight face long enough for us to believe that she doesn't like it.

"That doesn't mean I wasn't with anyone Harrow." Michelle winked at me and went back into her room coming out ten minutes later in joggers, a t-shirt, and Nike trainers with no backpack, one pencil, and a pen. Very prepared.

"Told you thirty minutes was more than enough time. Come now, Hazland.”

"...That's what she said." I smiled proudly at my own joke while Michelle gave me an unwavering a stale face.

"If I can say anything about growth in these last 4 years of our friendship it would be that you have made the least of it. You are the worst.”

“The pot shouldn’t call the kettle names. I thought it was funny." I grinned at her irritation grabbing all of my things in preparation to start the final year.

"Of course you did. Usually when you think it's funny that means it's not.”

Michelle exited out leaving me to lock the door to our new off campus apartment but I wanted to know more. 

I followed behind her and asked her all types of questions. You can't just spring on people that you've switched sides and not expect them to want to know all of the details. In all honesty it wasn't a big deal as long as she was happy. Perhaps I was just being nosy, but after usually seeing her with mainly men my underlying question to her was probably, "Why?"

"I wasn't having that much luck with guys, Haz. One night I went out for a drink and a girl approached me so I figured, why the hell not? What could it hurt, really? Nothing. I went for it, and I enjoyed myself.”

She didn't have a great track record with guys after her split with Lou. She was so unhappy at one point, but then again when you bring home assholes and expect them to turn into stand up gents tears are to be expected. They always looked like gutter grunge to me but at the moment that seemed to be her type, so I didn't say anything. I've actually spent a lot of nights with Michelle rubbing her back as she cried against my shoulder and handing her the odd Kleenex to substitute for my shirt. Now that I think about it, last summer I really didn't see her with any guys. I guess when I saw her with girls I always assumed they were just her friends.

"So...What's it like?”

"What's what like?”

"You know the, um, the switch...What's it like?" Michelle threw her head back and laughed as we reached the main building for our senior seminar class.

"You mean what's it like going from cock to fanny? Is that what you're asking me?" I raised my eyebrows at her bluntness and I could feel heat rise in my cheeks. There's no beating about the bush with Michelle, not anymore anyway.

"Pretty much, yeah. That's what I'm asking. I’m just being nosy. If it’s too much you don’t have to-“

"Honestly," Michelle shifted her eyes back and forth as if she was going to tell me the secret to life in her next sentence, "It's so much better. Guys have no clue what they're doing down there. It's so refreshing to have someone know exactly what it is that I want, when I want it, and how I want it without explaining myself like I'm a bloody rubix cube. Did you know that there are three holes down there?” She asked me sarcastically as if we weren’t both on track for Med school.

"I resent that! And no…no I didn't know that.” I replied to sarcasm with sarcasm, grinning to myself much like the purple devil emoji. I surely did know all the holes.

"Why is that, Hazland? The resentment issue?”

We took our seats in the half full lecture room at the back of the class as we normally do. Michelle, myself and the rest of the gang have started many an early weekend by sitting in the back of the class, signing the attendance sheet and then leaving when the professors back was turned. I don't think I'll do that this year though. I have too many important tests to take if I want to be a doctor. I mean to pass the UKCAT exam the first time.

"Because I'm not half bad at it. At least I don't think I am... Never got a complaint before and I don't intend to.”

Michelle laughed loudly as the professor walked in, drawing attention our way. I smiled and waved at the onlookers before Michelle chuckled again grabbing my hand to stop me as the professor started to speak.

"Just because you never got a complaint doesn't mean that it wasn't said, Harrow. Nine times out of ten, if you don’t hear a complaint it’s because she cares more about your ego than her orgasm...It’s a shame really.”

I primped my lips at her and we continued to whisper to each other back and forth while we took notes on what the professor wrote on the whiteboard during the lecture. There would be two major papers in this class. Thankfully for the twenty page essay that we'll be assigned to do later on in the quarter we can have a partner. Michelle quickly leaned her head on my shoulder choosing me to work with when the paper isn't even due until the last week of class. I of course accepted her. Not only is she my friend but she's one of those annoyingly clever people. I've honestly never seen Michelle open or purchase one required textbook in all of our three years knowing each other in our university careers, but every time marks are posted her marks are always first class honors.

By the end of class, I ended up giving Michelle a hefty amount of paper for notes in seminar and for the other classes she had throughout the rest of the day. It baffles me as to how she's this born genius, but the most unorganized person that I know at the same time. Her only response to my annoyance was, "At least I have writing utensils.”

"Was that girl this morning your girlfriend?”

"No. I'm an admitting fuckgirl. What’s the saying? If you can’t beat them join them. I refuse to be part of the played group any more. It's our last year after all. I figure it's time to up the ante. Let monogamy go.”

I laughed and shook my head before another question came up. It was always something I wanted to know about lesbians but was too embarrassed to ask. It's not like I have many lesbian friends who I could turn to and get the information that most want to know.  I'm never that embarrassed around Michelle though.

"So, erm, um...who's more dominant, when you're...You know?”

Michelle rolled her eyes at the question and I began to feel like an ass.

"When we're scissoring?" She spoke loudly making my thought about embarrassment wrong.

“Chelle!"

Michelle snickered knowing that she's put a vivid image in my head of her and the mystery blonde. I shake the thought before I get too carried away. I'm not supposed to get aroused with the thought of my best friend and another girl.

"Whoever feels like it whenever they feel like it? It was always a competition with men isn't it?”

“I don’t think it’s so much a competition as it is that some women don't like being on top?” I spoke presenting the idea causing her to pop her lips in disagreement.

“It’s never asked though is it? Sounds like male assumption to me. When I'm with a girl it's just flat out pleasurable for the pair of us. It's not about dominance, Harry. It's about getting off. Scissoring isn't a thing though, by the by.”

I nodded my head up and down still in awe that she of all people had taken a liking to someone who has the same bits as she does. It didnt' bother me like she thought it did earlier and I hope I didn't give her that impression by my line of questioning. Honestly these were just things I always wanted to know. I'm actually more hurt that scissoring apparently isn't a thing...They make it look so pleasurable in porn...I've been bamboozled.

"That's enough questions about me for now. What's happened to you?”

"What do you mean?"

"Harry full offense, but you were a slut when I first met you. You've since depleted in your numbers dramatically, except I'm sure the use of your hand. There were tissues in your bin the other night when I was cleaning the apartment and you don't have a cold…"

"I have h-hay fever Michelle! Allergies kick up at random times... Don't clean my room, I'll do it! It's personal in there. I knew I couldn't find any of my shit for a reason. And hang on-" I knotted my eyebrows playfully at her earlier slut comment.

I admit that I got around, but I moved very slowly. I've only ever had sex with seven or maybe nine girls in my twenty-one years give or take. I don't really keep count. It's not like they were souvenirs or notches on my belt for me to keep track of. All of them were an experience and I'm pretty sure I could name them all if I had to.

The first time happened my last year in 6th form or high school you could say and I didn't even know Michelle then. I got teased for that a bit, but I wasn't in a rush. The maybe other seven or eight happened here at uni but it wasn't as frequent as Michelle makes it out to be. The first two were in my first year when I met Michelle, one of them ended up being my girlfriend over a span of Five months. After that, I only was only ever active with a few more spaced out over the course of two and a half years, and they were regulars. That's not that bad when you think about it, especially for a guy my age at university.

"You were Haz! You had a new girl every weekend.”

"I did not! They were the same few people. They just kind of, alternated? You just never paid them any attention so you thought they were different every time. You're giving me more credit than I deserve." 

Michelle rolled her eyes and continued to tease me.

"Whatever. What's happened then?”

"I don't know what you mean. I got invested in my studies. I have to take the UKCAT this year.”

"When is the last time you fun bit wrestled, willy waggled, played 'hide the helmet', rolled in the hay as they say?" I scrunched my nose and then thought about it and then got frustrated that I had to actually think about it.

“Yet I’m the worst? Who’s this they you speak of?" I asked her, squinting my eyes and tilting my head to the side.

"Everyone says those things when talking about sex. The more mature ones do anyway. Stop dilly dallying and answer the question. When is the last time you put your 'p' in a ‘v'?"

"S-spring? Early spring? Early Spring terms I guess…"

I could feel my cheeks turn red as I answered her question and Michelle bit her cheeks as an odd snorting noise left her nose while she tried to hold in her laughter. It's not that funny.

"You haven't fucked since the spring?" I  laughed more at myself than at the shocked look on her face and shook my head no.

"No, not actual Spring. Early spring terms, so February...My birthday.”

"Harry, we're at the end of August here! You might as well count yourself as celibate. Not that I can blame the girls for dodging you. You still call a vagina a bajingo.”

I chuckled before I spoke, "The word vagina is honestly just as bad as bajingo. And this is coming from someone who has over a hundred words and phrases for sex.”

"A hundred and counting, Harrow.”

I shrugged my shoulders and tried to make the red in my cheeks less noticeable by rubbing my hand over my face. Spring term is when I decided to get more focused. I threw myself into clubs and my books to try to get more into school and buckle down. I'm even president of our graduating class now, prepared to serve on the Alumni council after graduation and I for one am proud of myself for getting this far. The greater half of my first three years here at university was spent at frat parties and in my bed sleeping class time away. I barely know how I made it through this far with decent grades, but I'm grateful that I did. Failure isn't an option.

Michelle stood on tip toe, leaning her head on my shoulder all the while soothingly rubbing my back. When I turned my head to face her, she batted her long lashes at me and made her big brown eyes look like one of those odd cartoon characters whose eyes cover more than half of their face.

"It's okay, Harry.”

"What is?”

"That you haven't gotten any pussy in over six months." Michelle has officially taken a back seat and let Mitchell take the wheel. This is how she got the nickname in the first place.

"Sod off Mitch! It's not like it's a bad thing-“

"Like shit it isn’t."

"I'm busy anyway.”

"With your hand and those bin tissues." I nudged Michelle off my shoulder feigning to be fed up with her masturbation jokes.

"Well if you weren't in my room you wouldn't have seen them! Gosh, you do something one time and then that's what people automatically associate you with!”

Michelle lets out another awkward snort that causes both of us to laugh out loud as we walk through the halls preparing to go our separate ways for the rest of the day.

"That was actually kind of funny Harry. Your jokes are getting a bit better.”

"Yeah, I know. They're funny when they're at my expense.”

"Aw, Hazland. You poor, poor serial masturbator. I'll see you later, yeah?”

"Yeah," I grinned at her before I turned to leave.

"Wait, how much later?” Michelle walked back towards me with one eyebrow raised to the sky as I tried to quickly map out my schedule for the day in my head before spitting it out to her.

"Uh, I get done with classes at half five, then I have a class meeting at six, and then I work at the first year halls front desk from seven to eleven thirty tonight. So I'll probably get home around midnight."

I contently sighed and grinned at Michelle as a look of pure horror took place of her once relaxed features. Her eyes seemed to widen larger after every additional activity that I listed, but I truly enjoyed remaining busy. Michelle's face remained contorted with displeasure before she spoke.

"So you're still coming to the pub later with the lads right?”

"Uh-oh. Chelle I don't know. I kind of forgot all about that. I don't think I will though, it's Monday and-“

"Ah, ah, ah, I'm not taking no as an answer. You promised and it's welcome week anyway. The pub is gonna be live! Just swing by and have one drink.”

“Nahhh I think I’m gonna-”

"One drink.”

“Sit this one out.”

"One drink, Harrow. One. Come on its tradition. You can't just bum out on tradition. This is our last year." She held up her tiny pointer finger to emphasize her point before she spoke again, this time in a small whisper, “One."

“No."

“Please?"

“No."

“Please?” Her lips pouted and her eyes turned sad trying her hand at manipulation.

"No, Chelle. No. Stop looking at me that way...Oh! Gah! Fine. I'll head to the pub when I get off work. One drink. One.”

Michelle bounced on her feet and clapped her hands in excitement making me shake my head before I turned to leave. Before I could make a real step Michelle called my name again.

"Hey, do you think I could borrow a pen? I seemed to have dropped mine."

[asociallyawkwardteen]

FACE - Woosung/Sammy Kim - Drabble

Kim Woosung/Sammy Kim x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers

Word count: 2,5k

Summary: After a long semester of uni finally comes to an end, y/n and her friends are able to go out again and have fun. A fun night out turns into something very beautiful.

(Also I would like to apologize for any errors, english is not my first langugae so please have mercy on me ^^’)

~Hope you like it!

„Finally!!! We are done with all those stupid exams!!!” your friend Coco shouted once you got back to your apartment from Uni after having your last exam for this semester today.

“Hey, you do know that we have neighbors, right?” you giggled, hitting her in a playful way.

“Yeah, yeah, but aren’t you glad that we finally can relax?? We should celebrate it!”

“Of course I am glad, silly. So how do you want to celebrate surviving another semester?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure yet but I want to do it tonight! Otherwise it’s not as much of an celebration.”

“Sounds a lot like you want to go drinking, huh?”

She smiled at you sheepishly, “Maybe…”

“Okay so a girls night out it is?”

“Eeeeh…” she started hesitatingly, blushing a little

“what do you mean ‘eeeh’?”

“How about…”

“Wait! You want to ask the cute guy from our history class out, don’t you??” you said wiggling your eyebrows at her

“Heyy!” she punched your arm, “what I was going to say was: we could gather a few of our friends… and maaaaybe also hajoon…” she got quieter during the end mumbling the last word.

You grinned. “Well you can invite some people I guess, still don’t have a lot of friends that aren’t also yours here” you smiled a little embarrassed at yourself hearing that coming out of your mouth after being here for already one and a half year.

“Oh just not too many please… I’d like to still keep the circle small tonight.” you added

“Sure thing she said, sitting down on the couch and already looking through her phone for the right people”

Some time passed and you used it well by taking a nap, seemed like the best idea since you’re probably gonna be out the whole night. However, your peaceful slumber was rudely interrupted by Coco barging in your room exclaiming that she finally had the perfect selection of people.

You mumbled a half awake “Shoot” and nuzzled your head back into your pillow.

“Okay so, since we want a rather small group this time, I made sure that I selected them very carefully!” She listed a few of your friend group to which you just nodded to, still half asleep.

“And-I-also-might-have-asked-Hajoon-if-he-was-free-and-he-is-joining-us!!” She quickly spat out hiding her face in her hands squealing like a little kid.

You grinned at her, “glad you finally had the guts to ask him out!”

“That’s not all thought, I thought that since I would be a little occupied with hajoon tonight I though I would invite someone for you too! BUT- Please don’t hit me now okay!”

You slowly opened your eyes looking at her kinda pissed already. “And who would that someone be?”

“Sammy…” she mumbled

“HUH?!?!” now it was really over with your beauty sleep, you shot up in your bed looking at her in disbelief. “Sammy?, you… mean Sammy Kim?? Your freind from highschool, who I had nothing but awkward interaction with since I met him last year?” 

“Awkward Interactions?” she giggled, “ if that’s what you call love at first sight but no clue how to handle it, yeah sure you guys had some AwKwArD InTeRaCtIoNs. And now don’t act like I didn’t realize how you two were looking at each other that night, plus how often you too hung out to sTuDy.”

“No No No, he really helped me out with my photography project back then, and you promised me that we would never speak of that night again!” Just as you finished your sentence Coco’s phone made a ding. She opened it and grinned once again.

“Oh come on you both have the hots for each other but your are both to scared to admit it and I like the effect you have on each other, you both are like creative chargers for one another. I’ve yet to see you procrastinate when he is around and you have heard his music improving yourself, do you think that comes just out of nowhere? Huh? Whatever he just texted that he is coming tonight so this discussion is over!”

You looked at her with wide eyes and your heart skipping a beat. You definitely have a crush on Sammy and yeah maybe that happened the first time you met him BUT you were just never really the relationship type of girl, plus you didn’t plan on staying in Korea after Uni so you didn’t want to get to attached to something/someone plus you liked things the way they were up until said night. New Years Eve Party to be exact. You and Coco had a party at the Apartment and most of your friends were wasted at 1am already and Sammy and You also had quite a bit to drink, one thing led to another and you only remember waking up next to him in your bed, all cuddled up together with and hunch of what could have happened. Luckily you two were up before everyone else thinking nobody noticed but of course Coco knew the second she looked at you once she woke up. Sammy had to leave quickly that day because of some issues with brother, who wanted to visit him on New Year’s. Ever since than you two tried to keep it casual by not addressing it at all and kind of ignoring each other and your feelings for one another a bit. Until now apparently.

You sighed falling back into your cozy bed once Coco left your room.

~Time skip~

You pushed the thoughts of the night ahead to the side -mostly for Coco since she was worried that you were actually mad at her.

To proof her wrong you put on a smile and you two started to get ready together while blasting music and starting to pre drink a bit. It felt so good though to finally have the time to go out with some friends again after all that studying and stress with exams, just getting ready with your roommate was already so much fun.

Soon your uber came and you were on your way to the club where Coco told the others to meet you. You saw Sammy already when from the car, and your heart stopped a beat. He was just leaning against the wall, headphones in and on his phone. You took a second to admire him before the car came to a spot where you guys could get out. Coco saw him as well form where you two were and tried to scare him since he wasn’t aware of his surroundings, but she failed.

You greeted Sammy with a warm hug, thinking that he would probably feel your fast heartbeat but you always hugged him to say hello and you didn’t want to make things more weird. To your surprise you could feel his heartbeat as well, which weirdly calmed you down a bit.

You too still kept a bit of a distance for now just making things seem “casual”, clearly aware of the tension between the two of you. You got a table at your favorite club and soon drinks started to flow. Your group had an awesome time dancing, drinking, catching up and just enjoying your freedom for now

The DJ was great and constantly playing what you wanted, a couple hours went by and your friend group started to get smaller, one after the other leaving with someone they flirted with for about half an hour. Oh and Coco was all tangled up with Hajoon just as you both expected. You didn’t care about all of that too much just enjoying yourself on the dance floor and chatting a bit with Sammy while still continuously ordering drinks.

Of course some dudes tried to hit on you especially while you were dancing, overflowing with confidence but you just told them to get lost, you were really not interested in any of them. You were really just here to have fun but as you caught a glimpse of the way Sammy was watching your every move you smiled a bit to yourself.

You both were a bit buzzed by now, it being around 1:30am and most of your friends, well actually all of them already gone. The club was still buzzing and you were in no way ready to leave yet, neither was Sammy. It may seem a bit boring to just stand at a table watching a girl dance for hours, only taking breaks to pee or take another shot, not for him tho. Watching your body float over that dancefloor, never missing a single beat, smiling with closed eyes. And every time you were sick of a song you made your way over to him smiling with sparkling eyes in which he could get lost in forever. Every time you would come over you two had a shot or two and every time you went back on the dancefloor you tried to convince him to come with you. He came with once or twice, wanting to stay there with you the whole night just being weightless together but he knew that if he kept dancing with you and already being a bit drunk, he would want more and he wasn’t sure if you were okay with that so he stayed at the table.

At around 3am your feet started to hurt from all the dancing in your heels and you were feeling pretty dizzy, still not wanting to stop dirinking. Sammy knew by the way you came back to him that you were ready to leave and get some food somewhere.

“Sammy…! Wanna grab a bite somewhere?!” you shouted in his ear hoping he would understand with all the loud music and people talking.

To be completely honest he didn’t understand anything over the loud music and his own spinning head but he knew what you wanted so he just nodded and you two left. Once you stepped out of the club you both took a deep breath an looked at each other for a second. In this moment the only thing you wanted to do was kiss him, get lost in his touch and never wake up from it again but instead you just smiled at him and repeatedly said that you were hungry.

Sammy was in the same position, he knew that soon he would not be able to contain himself if you keep looking at him with those intense eyes of yours. He laughed at you being a whiny baby and took your hand to lead you to your guys’ favorite 4am drunk-food place. You both knew that he initially just wanted to yank you a bit in the direction you had to go yet you kept walking hands interlocked up until you got to the food place. It just felt so natural that none of you wanted to let go, so you kept it that way for a few moments longer.

You two kept chatting a bit while enjoying your food. For the few other people in the restaurant you two just looked like a regular couple acting all cute together, feeding each other and giggling while still ordering a few drinks. The owner of the restaurant actually thought you two were so cute that she gave you another soju-bottle for free, “For the lovebirds” she said as she put a the bottle down and winked at you.

You looked at each other with big eyes and you started to giggle since you were still pretty drunk. You took the soju with you and left the restaurant after paying. You were not ready to leave one another yet but you remember that Sammy had that great view from his apartment rooftop so you went there, on the way your hands found each other again and you just walked in silence, enjoying each other’s company.

You set up everything and settled down on the roof with your soju and a blanket just starring into nothing. Soon the two of you were cuddled up listening to each other’s breath.

You sighed “I missed this, you know?”

“Missed what?” he tried playing dumb

“This.. you… us..” you mumbled into his chest trying to hide your blushing

“Me too” he said while running his hands through your hair.

You lifted your head to look at him in the dim light just taking in his features bit by bit. He just smiled at you, slowly closing his eyes, like a cat would do. Carefully you sat up a bit and firmly pressed your lips on his. He smiled into the kiss. It was a very sweet delicate kiss, maybe even innocent, savoring every little moment of a innocent yet so powerful love. You two dragged the kiss as long as your lungs would allow it, after that you quickly nuzzled your head into his warm chest again.

“We should head inside it’s really getting cold and I don’t want you to get sick…” he softly whispered

You nodded and you packed your things to move into the apartment. It was so much warmer and just as cozy as you remembered it. You let out a yawn, stretching your body, Sammy saw his chance and wrapped his arms around you from behind burring his head in your neck. “Tired?” he asked softly.

“yeah… a bit…”

“then let’s go to bed then, shall we?” he asked while already heading towards the bedroom. He gave you his favorite shirt and shorts to sleep in, knowing you would have asked for them sooner or later, also he loved the way they looked on you. You excused yourself to the bathroom to change.

Once you locked the door behind you, you started to freak out silently a bit but on the other hand, everything just felt so right, Your bodies and minds just fit perfectly together and you were kind of mad at yourself for wanting to cut this awesome connection after it got a bit more serious. You washed you face, changed into the clothes he gave you and took a deep breath before heading back to the bedroom.

Sammy was already all cuddled up and his room looked even more comfortable with the delicate fairy-lights you gifted him last Christmas. You crawled next to him getting comfortable. He gave you another soft kiss, but you wanted more. You started to intensify it to which he gave in, you were hungry for him the whole night already so you were more than eager letting your hand slowly travel over his body an to the hem of his boxers but suddenly he grabbed your hand. A bit perplex you broke the kiss and looked at him confused.

“did... did I do something wrong?” you asked quietly “Do you not want to?”

“you didn’t do anything wrong y/n…” he gave you a peck “It’s just, the last time we did it too quickly and lost each other for a few months… And I don’t want to lose you… this... us again... is… is it okay if we just fall asleep in each other’s arms for now?”

You started to tear up a bit at his words, this was the first time he actually told you how he really felt -probably a bit because of the alcohol too but you didn’t mind that- and it made you realize how you felt as well, so you nodded stealing one last kiss before cuddling up with him and slowly drifting of to sleep while listening to his heartbeat.

~To be continued~

[hockeyforthefirsttime]

Home For Christmas- Mat Barzal

AN: This is no shame, I started this before Christmas with the intention of finishing it as well... bitch I didn’t, so here we are.

Word count: 4k

TW: bad parenting, mentions of cheating, kind of angst? idk 

Sitting alone by the kitchen table, you watch the snow fall heavy over the town. You’re supposed to be working on your masters thesis, but your mind is a thousand miles away, 2 185,4 miles to be exact. 

And even that far away, Mat is still everywhere to be seen in a town he’s never been in. He’s in the cafe with the really bad coffee and the really good cakes, he’s in the window reflection in the old thrift shop you used to go to when you were younger. And you can imagine him so easily outside on the front porch, playing in the snow. 

In all honesty that would be ideal, having him here. But he’s not, he didn’t have the opportunity to come. You understand that. You understand that he’s got his own traditions, family and friends to see. 

But when you left JFK to come to the cabin in Alta, you wished that he was by your side, you by his. Instead of the snoring man that sat on your right hand side the entire flight. At least you got the window seat. 

Your parents went out to have dinner or visit some friends, you don’t care enough to remember. 

All you could think of was how Mat had been babbling about how excited he was for Christmas, and going home. And how you deep inside dreaded coming here. It’s not that your parents don’t love you, they just love the idea of the past you. Mat cares for you a lot, you know that, you’ve settled for that. But you haven’t had the heart to tell him how your parents only care for perfect facades and flaunting their riches. That's also why you haven’t told them about Mat. 

The snow is still falling over the perfectly decorated front lawn. 

You’re still thinking of Mat and how he would look with rosy cheeks from the cold, when your parents move in through the front door whilst talking in low murmurs. 

“Y/N, darling? You’re still awake?” 

Your mother asks, not yelling though, never yelling. She waits until she can see you from the hallway. 

“Yes, still kind of working.”

You answer politely. 

“Oh, you’re still writing your thesis?” 

Quickly as she comes around the table, you switch from the spotify tab, to the uni home page.The lie comes smoothly and she doesn’t notice, she never does. 

“My little hard worker, you’re gonna be such a good psychiatrist one day.” 

And your heart sinks all the way down to your stomach. You’ve never told them that you switched majors three years ago. Or that you’re not writing a dissection of the human mind, but rather a song. As well as a thesis. 

“Hey, I’m gonna go to my room.” 

Your mom nods at you with what almost resembled a fond smile. Passing your father in the hallway you see him slip something into the pocket of his already hung coat. 

“Night sweetheart.” 

“Night dad” 

You smile half heartedly while balancing your books and laptop in your hands. 

No matter how nicely the property is decorated, no matter how hard you try, you’ll never be what your parents expect you to be. They are much like their cabin in your opinion, pretty and inviting on the outside, shallow on the inside. 

You don’t know how to handle this. Because while you grew up a lot around here, New York feels like your home now. With pictures on the walls and tiny memories littered around the place. The bedroom you’ve always had in the cabin hasn’t changed much since you last were here. Pictures of people you no longer talk to still hang on the vanity you never used. 

Crawling underneath the thick duvet, you pull your phone off the charger on your nightstand. There are a few messages on snap chat and instagram you’ve missed. Mostly friends from college, all in their respective homes with their old friends and family. 

You close both of the apps, and sigh when you see the wallpaper of your phone. It’s a picture of you and Mat. You’re dressed in a hoodie with his jersey over it and his arms slung around your middle from behind, the both of you smiling at Beau behind the camera. You remember that day. 

It was in the early days of your relationship and only the second or third game you had been too of his. The Islanders had played the Rangers and won, Mat scored twice and it was overall a good game. The WAG’s had all started to head for the locker room hallway, while you set your path for the exit, planning on meeting Mat back at his apartment. Lauren was the first to see you trying to sneak out. And had instantly called you out on it. She’s a miracle worker with people, and within seconds she had figured out how scared you were that Mat wouldn’t want you there. After all this was a team win, and you didn’t quite feel like you were a part of the team. Not yet at least. 

And despite your fears, Lauren convinced you that he would love to see you first thing as he exited. And he had been. His already beaming face had swept you up in his strong arms and spun you around. Mat truly was and still is at times more excitable than a puppy.

-----

You wake up abruptly from someone yelling. That someone you quickly recognize as your father's voice. And your heart drops, even though the words are muffled, you can imagine the scene. Your mother, sitting at the kitchen table, in the same spot as you sat last night, telling him to calm down and stop yelling. Your father pacing in front of her, screaming about something you can’t quite figure out what is yet. He is obviously ignoring her.

Picking your phone up from the mattress as you sit up, there doesn’t seem to be anything new. You enter the messages app and shoot Mat a message, telling him to call you in thirty minutes. 

With a sigh, you pull the warm, comfortable duvet off yourself and drag your body out of the bed. Everything in the room seems a little colder, and you know it’s probably because of the badly isolated windows. That’s probably why the cool floorboards tickle your feet when you step on them. Luckily there is a pair of thick socks on the floor next to the bed, so you pull them on and walk to the door. 

Carefully you let the door creep open silently. 

“- and why couldn’t you just leave it be?” 

You hear your father yelling. 

“Because you’re my husband and I love you, you’re not supposed to have a second phone, much less a second girlfriend.” 

Immediately your stomach sinks. Your dad has a mistress? Then it was probably the second phone he slipped into the coat pocket last night. God, christmas spirit, eh? You shut the fight out of your mind instantly, not wanting this to be your christmas. In this moment you hate all the bad hallmark movies you’ve watched with Mat. Not for having watched them, but for letting them give you hope of a normal christmas.

On autopilot, you start packing the bag you never finished unpacking. It takes fifteen minutes for you to finish. Your phone starts ringing as soon as you zip the back shut. With a deep sigh you answer the phone. 

“Hi Mat.” 

“Hey, babe. You okay?” 

You can hear laughter in the background and the smile in his voice. You hate yourself for the next words. 

“No, not really.” 

The admittance lies heavy in your chest, but some of the weight seems to lift off when you speak the feelings into existence. 

“I’m sorry, is there anything I can do?” 

It's like the world disappears for a minute, and just hearing his voice calms you down. 

“No, I don’t think so, I just don’t think I can handle this right now. ‘M just gonna head home to my apartment. I can’t take my parents right now.”

It’s a relief to get the words out of your mouth and into existence. You can imagine him right now, with the cute frown on his face and the cogs and wheels in his brain turning.

“Hold on, you’re not gonna spend christmas morning alone are you?” 

“Why not? It’s not really different from what I’m used to, and it’s already the 23rd today anyway.” 

“That gives you just enough time to fly here!” 

 Your heart soars at the thought of waking up with Mat in his childhood home, but reason strikes you seconds later. 

“Mathew, I’m not gonna intrude on your family like that.” 

The sigh he releases on the other end of the phone, is followed by a small chuckle. 

“You’re not intruding. I promise. Plus they all love you.” 

------

You order an uber straight after calling Mathew. When you open the door to your bedroom, the yelling still hasn’t stopped. The log walls have always been pretty soundproof, but you swear, right now there is an echo in the house. Silently you close the door behind you. Your dad is still ranting on about how none of this is his fault, and how some things women simply don’t understand. 

You sigh and take off your shoes to make your steps even quieter than usual.It’s not that your father isn’t kind, it’s just that he seems to have been too kind to another woman. And it puts a great deal of fear into your heart. It makes you scared that Mat might do the same. 

You shake the thought (almost) out of your head, Mat is not your father, and you are not your mother. Still, you can’t help but feel like your mother deserves better. Leaning against the door frame, you pull up your phone and start scouring the web. 

The uber app alerts you of your rides arrival, and you go into your travel backpack and pull out a piece of paper and a pen. Quickly you write down the number and name of both a divorce lawyer and a couples therapist. Your coat is already on and your bag doesn't have wheels, so it’s a silent endeavour to the other bedroom in use on this floor. Your parent’s room. 

It looks like it always has. Everything is neatly put behind closed doors and the bed is perfectly made. No knick knacks on the bedside table, not even a book or an alarm clock. You sigh, put the note on your mothers side of the bed and leave.

You’re glad the kitchen doesn ‘t have a clear view of the hallway, your parents are too immersed in their fight, to notice the fact that their child is slipping through their fingers. They don’t notice you walking away from them.

------

The airport is not so surprisingly filled only with stragglers and people who are most likely working this christmas. The pine trees are decorated and everywhere, but you don’t feel as sick to your stomach as you usually do. Quickly you find your gate. It’s got a great view and you watch the snow fall under the lights of the airport and sip the holiday drink you uncharacteristically got from the coffee shop beside the gate. You have already checked in the luggage, so yet again you pull out a pen, but also a worn and torn leather bound notebook that’s been with you since the start of your degree. 

The songs usually come from poems but somehow this one is different. You start the melody quickly, writing down notes and sometimes little words that you feel make sense with the melody. Your hands start to itch for the ivory and ebony keys of a piano, but just as the feeling arrives the flight attendant calls up your flight and you have to pack up. 

 The plane is only half full, so you get a row to yourself. Resting your feet across the two free seats is a little uncomfortable, you’ll admit as much, but the feeling of having the piano at least on your computer is settling some of the itch. 

-----

Mat comes alone to pick you up from the airport. He’s standing in the parking lot leaning against his car. The second he hears you approaching he looks up from his phone, pockets it and meets you halfway. Immediately he hugs you tight.

“Hi babe, I missed you.” 

He says with a low voice into the scarf wrapped around your neck. You just hug him tighter. The tension that took a hold of your body during the layover, is releasing from your body. Mat’s entire being is like a weighted blanket covering you. 

When he lets you go, you miss his warmth, but it’s short lived. He picks up the bag you dropped to the snow covered ground and puts in the trunk before opening the passenger door for you. Upon entering the car, you are engulfed in everything Mat and warmth. 

“You gonna tell me what’s going on with your family?”

You sigh at the question, knowing it was going to come sooner or later. To be honest you’re glad he asked now, and not back home, back with his family. It’s just, how do you explain the entire messy situation to Mat, without getting pity points? You don’t want to feel like some charity case or, even worse, like some spoilt child who can’t handle the situation.

Instead of dwelling over it for too long, you decide to jump into it as he starts the car and enters the freeway. 

“My dad is cheating on my mom, and she found out last night. I think they were up the entire night just arguing. I just left a note on mom’s bed with the number of both a divorce lawyer as well as a couples therapist.”

You rant off, state it matter of factly. Trying to shut off your emotions. 

“Are you okay Y/N?” 

Mat asks. Simple as that. He asks you if you’re okay, and you can’t quite handle it. The tears are pressing on behind your eyes. And you look out the window, trying to hold them back. But when he puts a hand on your thigh, you let the first tear fall. 

“No.” 

And it really is as simple as that. You’re not okay. And you hate it. Just in that second your phone starts ringing in your back pocket.

“Sorry.”  

You say as Mat looks at you. He just gives you a soft smile. You check the caller id, and see it’s your mom. Quickly you clear your throat and wipe your tears away. 

“Hello mom.” 

You answer, trying to sound neutral. 

“Y/N, where are you? Did you go to one of your friends here? I can’t find any of your things.” 

She sounds confused to be honest. 

“Yeah no, I left, I’m on my way to my boyfriend’s house.” 

You hear her suck in a breath. Probably trying to calm down. You do the same, hoping for a calm conversation. 

“You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend? Where are you?” 

You sigh, know it’s gonna be a long conversation. 

“No, I know, I didn’t tell you on purpose. He lives in New York usually, but he’s from Canada.” 

Ideally, you know, this would be a conversation to have with Mat, about why you haven’t told them about him, before you had it with your mother. 

“You’re in Canada?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, what does he do then?” 

“Mom..” 

You start to avoid the question, but she interrupts you. 

“No, I want to know what he does that makes you think it’s okay for you to run away from your family right before christmas.”

In that second, just a split second, you get a little fight in you. 

“First of all, it wasn’t his call, he invited me, when I called him. Originally I was just gonna go back to New York. Alone. Second of all, I am not interested in spending christmas around you and dad when you can’t figure out your lives. Third of all, he makes me feel safe and appreciated and I can’t imagine being anywhere else right now.” 

You can feel the tears streaming down your face, but you don’t care. 

“Fine, if you are going to be like that then.” 

“I am gonna be like this mom.” 

“Fine.” 

She says, and then she hangs up the phone. And to be honest you’re kind of glad she did. 

“That sounded rough.” 

You nod and close your eyes. You don’t want things to be this way. You truly don’t, but it the way it is. 

“You didn’t tell them about me?” 

Mat asks. Possibly sounding hurt. 

“No, I was scared that they were gonna be who I know them to be, especially upon finding out that you play hockey for a living.”

He sinks a bit back in the driver’s seat.

“You think they wouldn’t like me?” 

He definitely sounds hurt. 

“I think they would like your image, your paycheck and what you could do for them publicly.”  

You answer earnestly. Before continuing. 

“They want a solid paycheck and all the nice things in life. The things that prove that they’ve got a lot of money, and that about sums it up.” 

“Oh, well that’s not good.” 

Letting out a sad chuckle, you nod your head. You can tell you’re closing up on his house because he seems to be driving slower now.

“I hope you know I’m not into you for the paychecks.” 

“No I know-”  

He turns and smiles at you. 

“You’re in this, for the amazing sex, eh?”

“Oh, for sure.”  

You smile and take his hand.

---

Waking up is always kind of heavier in the winter, but with Mat’s arms wrapped around you in the morning, it’s just something else. You fell asleep in one of his hoodies and flannel pj pants. You’ll admit it, it is a bit too warm, but hell it’s so worth it. 

You can feel him behind you, bare chest rising slow and steady. Soft snores escape him every now and then, but his arm around your waist stays there. Mindlessly, you start tracing shapes and letters on the back of his hand. You feel his hand start twitching, and all of a sudden he squeezes you tight and pulls you on top of himself. 

“I love you too.” 

He smiles up at you with his bleary eyes. Your cheeks heat up. You didn’t think he’d actually notice the letters you had been spelling out on his hand. So you hide your face on his shoulder and stay there. Just placing small, light kisses there. 

“Can you say it? Like out loud?” 

He asks you, quietly. 

“That I love you?” 

Immediately you feel him smile into your hair. 

“I love you Mat Barzal.” 

And you swear, you can feel his heart skip a beat in his chest.  

“Merry Christmas, by the way.” 

You say, feeling content. This is by far the best Christmas morning you’ve had, and you haven’t even gotten out of bed. 

“Oh shit, it’s Christmas morning!”

And before you know it, the light is on, and he’s out of bed and pulling on a shirt and a pair of sweats. He turns and looks at you expectantly. 

“Well, aren’t you coming?” 

He asks, moving in your direction. Mat all but drags you out of the bed and barely let’s you go to the bathroom to brush your teeth, before meeting his family downstairs. And it’s a glorious sight that meets your eyes. The christmas tree is decorated with little lights and different colour baubles?, as well as glitter. It looks homemade, and not like the perfectly decorated trees that have made their mark on your childhood. 

The sight of it causes you to stop dead in your tracks. God, how you love the normalcy of this. The morning is filled with laughter, jokes and copious amounts of hot chocolate. It’s not until the end of the gift unwrapping, that Mat slips away from you, claiming that he has to go to the toilet. 

He returns a few minutes later, carrying a big box wrapped in paper. It doesn’t take you long to notice that all eyes are on you. 

“Maty, I told you no gifts.”

You sigh, but you can’t help the smile that creeps onto your lips as you see how giddy he is. 

“I know I know, and originally I was going to stick to it, but I saw this in the store and I know you said you’d manage without it, but I just couldn’t help myself.” 

And as you listen to him rant his heart out to you, realization dawns on you. 

“You didn’t seriously..” 

Your sentence trails off as you watch him carefully place the box down on the dinner table. 

“Please, just open it?” 

And he knows you could never resist his pleading, just as well as you do. Nodding, you head to the table and start unwrapping the way too expensive gift. Soon the logo of the electric keyboard begins to unravel to you, and tears are seriously prickling behind your eyes.You pull the sleeves of the hoodie over your hands and wipe the tears away.

“Mathew, this is seriously the best christmas gift I have ever gotten.”

You mumble. He comes over and wraps you up in his arms again, and you can feel him smiling, how his entire being is happy, and maybe a little proud of himself. His mom and dad gush over how cute the two of you are, whilst Liana rolls her eyes with a fond smile. 

“Well, why don’t you play us something sweetie?” 

Mats mother asks you carefully once you unwrap yourself from Mat. 

“Yeah, I can do that.” 

And just like that the living room is cleared enough for you to set up the keyboard along with a chair from the kitchen. You even go back upstairs and find the chords you have written down for the song you wrote in the airport.

Testingly, you play a few chords. That is the moment you notice how quiet they’ve all gotten, so you decide to speak up, just to shake the nerves a little. 

“Okay, so this is kind of a rushed song, I wrote it on my way here, but I do hope you like it.” 

And then you start playing the first notes. You do love how the keys seem to find their way to you right away, like you’ve been playing this keyboard for a long time already. And then the words spill from your mouth. And you just sing. 

Careful what you say

This time of year

Tends to weaken me

And have a little decency

And let me cry in peace

But there's a place where I

Erase the challenges I've been through

Where he knows every corner

Every street-name

All by heart

And so it is a part of my

Courageous plan to leave

With a broken heart

Tucked away under my sleeve

I wanna find home for Christmas

Let me find home this year

I wanna find home for Christmas

Let me find home this year

I'll pack my bags

And leave before the sun rises tomorrow

'Cause we act more like strangers for each day

That I am here

But I have someone close to me

Who never will desert me

Who remind me frequently

What I I can truly be 

And so it is a part of my

Courageous plan to leave

With a broken heart

Tucked away under my sleeve

I wanna find home this Christmas

Let me find home this year

I wanna find home this Christmas

Let me find home this year

I don't know what my future holds

But I know who will love me

I can’t tell you where I'm from

But this one loved me to life

And so it is a part of my

Courageous plan to leave

With a broken heart

Tucked away under my sleeve

I wanna find home this Christmas

Let me find home this year

I wanna find home this Christmas

Let me find home this year

Playing the finishing keys, you look up from the keys, and see both Liana and Nadia smiling through a few tears. Mike is holding his wife close as he smiles at you. But Mat, he looks at you like you hung the stars in the night sky. 

Quickly you get up from the chair and wrap your arms around his neck. Closing your eyes, just letting yourself be completely enveloped in him. 

For a second though, he pulls slightly away, just enough so he can look you in the eyes. 

“I love you so much, and you’ll always have a home with me.”

Your heart swells ten times bigger than what your chest is made to encompass. 

“I know. I love you too.”

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

in which you study in a different country and meet someone along the way.  

hi lovelies! this is my fic for miss olivia’s @bfharry​ boyfriendathon! i’ve had this concept for a year now, and i’m so happy i was finally able to write it!

thank you to @bopbopstyles​ @stellarboystyles & @avhrodite​ for beta-ing! <3

enjoy 7.5k words of friends to lovers & uni!harry & boyfriend!harry !! also the story is supposed to go semi-fast since it is mostly flashbacks, the sparkly breaks will tell you when the flashbacks start and end! 

i’ve made a playlist for this fic! if anyone would like to listen while reading click here

please please leave feedback! super excited for this because it’s probably a fav of mine and i’m really proud of it, so i would love to know what you think! a reblog, comment, and/or ask would mean a lot! <3

The birds were chirping and the sun was beaming on you, leaving a glow to your skin that had shined ever so brightly, giving you a healthy and lovely tint to your skin. It was a lovely day that there was not an ounce of complaint in your mind because of the beautiful weather Mother Nature decided to provide you with, knowing that you hadn’t gotten perfect weather for the past few weeks. The trees and grass were as green as ever as slight wind rustled between the leaves, making the sound of the crisp leaves loud. 

It was a moment like this where you felt so happy and grateful to be in a beautiful city; that you had made the right decision. The London view and atmosphere does not compare to any other place in the world, aside from the fact that you haven’t been to many places in your life. But you’re a bit biased on your opinion because London graced you with your boyfriend, Harry. You remembered the first time you came to London just two years ago, and you never imagined how your life had planned out until this very moment. 

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

You had stepped on the plane with nervous thoughts running through your head. It was the first time you ever rode a plane, and your destination was hours away, practically a full day. It was a major step, and you probably should’ve thought it through; maybe traveling to the next state, but to travel to another country was a big step for you. 

It wasn’t a vacation, more like, school in a different country for a few months. You had decided to study abroad when you were in high school, wanting to get away from home and also learning in a brand new place without the toxicity hanging onto your foot as you try walking away. It had taken a while to finally study abroad because the requirements of you needing to finish your first year of college before you could study in the fall. 

Your family hadn’t taken it well, but you decided that there was nothing you could do to stop them. You were going to pay for the trip and your expenses all on your own. It definitely helped that you got a scholarship to go to university in the first place, and lucky enough to live on campus away from home.

You were sad that they didn’t feel an ounce of happiness for you, and you had asked your cousin to take you to the airport, being the only person to bid you goodbye. The feeling was overbearing and overwhelming, making your heart sink but at the same time feel full with sadness. At the time, you had felt like everything was holding you back and you just wanted to get away. 

A new start was needed. 

It was August when you traveled alone to London. Anxiety was boiling in your throat as you craved the need to hold onto something as the ride was quite bumpy, making you sweat and shake. But you survived, and you were at your new home. At least for the next 4 months. 

It wasn’t a hard decision to decide to study abroad, but you really hoped you met good people and made friends. It had always been a struggle making and keeping a good batch of people in your life. You had thought it was easy to make friends during your time in London; no one knows you and they don’t know your insecurities. So, you thought it was going to be easy.

And luckily, you were right. 

You had met your three best girl friends, all that you had shared a small place with. The common room had held so many memories between the four of you, and you felt so immensely grateful for them. Late night talks and laughs while drinking wine and eating snacks were some of your best memories. You had missed the common room greatly. 

One night, Tanya had suggested a night out on their first week there, “let’s all go out with the guys tonight! I already met Peter, and we talked about going out, so we could introduce you to everyone!” 

The girls and guys were stoked for the most part, and you were excited too, but also nervous, hoping the guys had found something interesting about you. 

And that was the night you met Harry. 

Some of the students that went to university in London shared a dorm with the abroad students until they left. Half were in the art program and the other half was the journalism program. Two of the girls in your dorm, Donna and Sophie, were in the journalism class, and you and Tanya were in the art one. You had wished everyone was in the same class, but that made get togethers and dinners at night way more fun because it had felt like everyone had so much to catch up on, and the fun was at the highest level. 

You had seen Harry approximately twice within your first week, but it was merely just from passing. But that night was the first proper night you hung out with him and everyone else. 

You couldn’t deny that he was insanely attractive. Just at first glance he had that sort of charm to him that was irresistible and alluring, wanting more after he was done talking. He was a bit on the quiet side when you met him, but learned that he started getting louder and talkative once you warmed up to him. He was outgoing and fun, the life of the party once he had a drink or two in his system, and when he does have some liquid courage, he gets cuddly and affectionate. 

“Do you want another drink?” He asked in his buzzed state. 

“I think I’m okay right now, and who’s going to take care of you when you keep having more?” You teased. It was definitely the alcohol talking because you would have never voluntarily teased someone like that. 

“Well, we have a few people in our group.” It had made your heart flutter when he said ‘our.’ You had never had a group of friends to call yours, and although it was only the first week, you had known they were going to be a group of special people close to your heart. 

“Our friend group is also drunk off their asses, so I think there needs to be a responsible person right now, and that is me,” you put your hands under your chin and started fluttering your eyes innocently. Harry thought you were the most charming and sweetest girl he’s ever met, and it had only been a week. 

“Okay, whatever you say, missy,” he teased. You held back your big smile, corners of your lips turned up. 

“Go get your drink. I’ll wait here,” you pushed his shoulder slightly towards the bar with a chuckle. 

“Ooh, bossy. I like it,” he said with a wink before he headed towards the bar. You were lucky that he had already left to get a drink, or else he would’ve seen your face turn into a light red shade, flustered from his actions.  

As the night went on, Harry had practically clung onto you when he was buzzed, and never let you go until everyone walked back to the dorms. 

“No, don’t wanna leave ya,” he whined a bit when you tried handing him off to his friend. “Nooo, don’t make me go with him,” he pouted as if he was a child. You had gigged, thinking he was the absolute cutest when he was drunk (and not drunk) as he clung onto you until you physically had to put him in his bed.

His arms were still tight around you, your body was laying slightly on top of him. Lazy smiles and droopy eyes were made at you, causing you to chuckle. 

“Mmm. Hello,” he said with a giggle. 

“Hi. You okay?” 

“Yup. Perfect. You know...you’re very pretty,” he says as he smiled. Although he was drunk, Harry was telling the truth. 

“Thank you.” And although he was drunk, it still made you smile. 

“Mhm…” he mumbled in response. The silence between you two was enough to lull him to sleep; arms were still around you. 

“Goodnight, Harry,” you said against his forehead, giving him a small kiss as you tried your best to slip out of his hold. 

That moment had changed everything. 

The two of you had gotten closer after that night. The next day, you bumped into him in the lobby of the building and he asked if you wanted to walk to class with him. 

You laughed about it with him as you walked, “you were so cute last night.” 

“Yeah, M’sorry about that. I get like that when m’drunk,” he shyly said. 

“No need to apologize. I’m glad you had fun,” you said with a smile. He had smiled back at you as he felt the butterflies in his stomach flutter around. 

You and Harry spent almost everyday after class together or in between classes for a quick bite to eat. There was a usual coffee shop near the building that you would always meet each other at on Mondays and Wednesdays. On Tuesday, you two would walk together to a fish n’ chips spot for lunch. On Thursdays, it was a sandwich shop. Fridays you saved your outings for that night as everyone got together on Fridays. 

“We could make this our thing, y’know?” Harry suggested. 

“Fish n’ Chips Tuesdays?” You beamed at him. 

“Yeah, and coffee shop Mondays and Wednesdays, and sandwich shop Thursdays,” he was quite nervous getting that out, but he managed to do it with a smile. 

“That would be nice. Don't you think you would get tired of me?” You teased him, raising your eyebrow as you took a handful of fries and shoving them in your mouth. You hadn’t realized, at the time, how unattractive you might’ve looked, but Harry couldn’t help but smile and fall deeper. 

And he never got tired of you. 

Aside from having lunch and coffee everyday together, you had taken him to art museums. He wasn’t horrible at trying to interpret art, but looking at you beside him as you gazed at the art above yourself was something that he was fond of. He smiled every time you got lost in the art as you studied it, passionately looking up, trying to figure out what each piece means to you. It was admirable, really. 

“You’re gonna be up there one day, watch,” he had whispered to you as you were in a daze. You chuckled as you looked at him, seeing if he was messing around. He wasn't though. He had seen your paintings and sketches, and thought that you deserved to be hung up high in the gallery. 

“You’re sweet,” you smiled and he put his arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer to his side. The affection had made you blush, thinking how you were falling for your best friend. 

After two months into studying abroad, you felt the happiest you’ve ever been. Aside from the constant moving around and trying your best to explore every part of the city, you felt like you belonged there. All those years living, you felt like you weren’t truly living, and being in London was possibly one of the best decisions you’ve ever made. 

You felt at peace. You were calm, and genuinely happy. Your head wasn’t racing like it was back in your hometown, and you weren’t anxiously looking over your shoulder, realizing that no one really is after you. 

The group decided to take a trip to Paris for the day, and the rest of the days would be spent hitting up a city or two. Everyone had the week off; a bit like spring break as you finished the first half of studying abroad. Everyone was super excited, and you haven’t been to Paris before so it was going to be a new place that you could check off from your list with your favorite people. 

It was a two and a half hour train ride from London to Paris, so you had loaded up a two hour playlist for the ride. 

At the time, it seemed like everyone knew that you were crushing on Harry, except Harry himself. When everyone boarded, the only seat empty was the one next to him. You weren’t mad, in fact, you were thrilled that the seat next to him was vacant. When you sat next to him, his eyes beamed, glad to see you, and you looked over at your friends as they gave you that teasing eye look while you rolled your eyes. 

“Anyone sitting here?” You asked and he shook his head no, giving you a small smile to sit down.

Everyone was still tired, considering it was 7 in the morning, and the group wanted to stay in Paris for the entire day. You yawned and Harry looked at you, giving you a soft smile. You grabbed your earphones out of your purse, handing one earphone to him and placing the other in your ear. In that moment, Harry was so happy as you two listened to Frank Sinatra on the way to Paris, placing your head on your shoulder and his on your head as Frank lulled you both into a nap before your adventure together. 

The entire day was eventful, but exhausting. With everyone on their feet, they were all ready to crash and luckily it was nearing sunset before the last train of the day. 

The last touristy place was the famous Eiffel Tower. Everyone had decided to get some wine and snacks as the whole group sat on a big blanket in the grass area in front of the Eiffel Tower. The sun was slowly setting and the guys were playing with a soccer ball, passing it around as the girls drank and talked; music playing from the speaker Sophie had brought with her.

 You took a mental picture of the scene around you; the people, atmosphere, and the feeling. And you had softly smiled, thinking these are the people in your life that are going to be in your life forever. Despite the fact that half of you had to go separate ways, there was a certainty in your head that everyone will always end up back together again. 

The sun had fully set and the lights on the Eiffel Tower had turned on as it started twinkling, lighting up Paris since the sun had gone tired. The guys were getting tired as well, so they sat with the girls. Harry was on your right side, arm behind your back but he didn’t touch you as it rested on the blanket and he leaned on it. 

“Dance with me,” he whispered ever so softly in your ear. You turned towards him and he smiled. 

“Right now?” 

“Yes, right now. Please, dance with me,” he pleaded and you nodded. He had immediately gotten up and helped you up. 

‘A Sunday Kind of Love’ by Etta James began playing softly as you and Harry swayed. Your arms were around his neck and his were around your waist. Chests pressed together as you had felt his heartbeat that pounded through his chest that gladly traveled to your chest, making your heart beat in sync with his.

It was silent between you two. There were no outside noises interrupting your bubble as you two ignored the eyes your friends were giving you. It was just you and Harry, the music, and the Eiffel Tower that captured your love and kept it for memory sake as you swayed under the moonlight. 

Harry had pulled away from you, looking so intently in your eyes, fondness gleamed out of them.

“Be mine,” he said softly. “I’m fallin’ for you, and I’m fallin’ hard. Please be mine already?” You were about ready to cry in that moment, but tears glossed your eyes.

You nodded and he beamed, “Only if you agree to be mine as well because I’m falling for you too,” you added. 

Harry immediately nodded, “I’ve been yours…this whole time.”

“Harry…” 

“Yes, darling?” The pet name had come unexpected, but you loved it nonetheless. 

“Kiss me.”

He took your face in his hands, brushing away the strands of hair that had covered your pretty eyes before capturing your lips with his. The molded between your lips and his was perfect, like they were meant to be kissing Harry’s. Your hold on him grew tighter as your tongues touched for the first time. It sent shivers down your spine and made the hairs on the back of your neck rise. 

It was a moment that would never leave your mind and you two would cherish it forever. 

It had been two weeks since the group arrived back to London from Paris. Two weeks since the best day of your life, and you and Harry were attached at the hip and at the heart. It had been so easy to be around him, and you couldn’t believe he was your boyfriend. Your boyfriend.

You’ve been falling for him ever since the day you went out with everyone for the first time and clung onto you like a koala. But you were glad to be that tree for him that night. 

The regular dates hadn’t stopped. You two acted the same around each other, and that was because of the friendship before the relationship. And you were able to hold his hand while walking down the street and kiss him against the wall of an alley.

It was the third month of school, and everyone was swamped in midterm studies. The amount of stress everyone had was enough for an entire school year because of how fast paced the program was. 

It neared eleven at night in the boys’ dorm. Everyone’s heads were in their books or typing on their laptop, papers scattered around them. For the art program, you had to visit various museums and look for a painting that defined the meaning of Impressionism art along with a 2,000 words that went along with the painting. 

Multiple yawns passed through the room, and everyone was exhausted. 

“Alright, I’m done for the night. Can’t do anymore studying,” Tanya said as she started packing her things up loosely. 

“Yeah, think we should call it a night,” Cade suggested. 

A series of ‘goodlucks’ and hugs went around the room as everyone packed their things up, and the girls went off to the dorm as you were still packing, wanting a minute alone with Harry. 

“Stay the night?” He had suggested, and you turned around and stopped fixing your things. 

“You want me to?” 

“Yeah. Think I’ll sleep better with you here and m’all stressed out.” 

“Okay,” you replied back, thinking that you would sleep better with him as well. 

As you two got into bed, Harry had played music on his phone, saying that it had helped him sleep and it was a habit when getting into bed. You noticed that you and Harry had the same love for Frank Sinatra as he hugged you to his chest. 

The two had laid there, not even closing your eyes to try and get some sleep. But rather, staring at the ceiling, running your hands up and down each other’s skin. 

And the moment you had leaned up to give him a kiss, you two couldn’t stop there. 

Hands that roamed your body had made that electrifying feeling stronger, pulling him in for more. The passionate kisses that you two traded had triggered each other’s arousal as he hovered over you. The pull and undressing of each other’s clothes while ‘Strangers in the Night’ played had left you wanting more and more of him. 

“I’ve never done this before. Like any of this,” you whispered. 

“Do you want to continue? We don’t have to if you don’t want to--I’m definitely fine with just kissin’ ya,” he said with a smile, causing you to beam at him being a gentleman. 

“Yes, want this so bad, baby.” You responded quickly, feeling very eager. He smiled in return and continued what he was doing.

He had asked you throughout the experience if you were okay with everything, and when you told him ‘yes please, give it to me’, he made sure he got you ready for him; rubbing your button and fingering you to your high, something you’ve never experienced with another person. 

It was the reassurance that Harry had given for your first time, and the constant questions of making sure if you were okay and if you were comfortable when he slowly pushed into you, trying to make sure he wasn’t being too hard with you because of his hard and big length. 

“So good for me,” he whispered out, kissing your lips. 

“Feels so good,” you had moaned out, never experiencing this type of feeling before. The pleasure had taken over the stinging feeling of your Harry entering you for the first time. You two were connected in a way you’ve never felt before. 

The soft whispers of praises that fell from your lips, and your arousal and orgasm prior that lubricated Harry’s thrusting, had made him feel so many things. He wanted to last for you, he didn't want this moment to end. Scratches in his hair and down his back had encouraged him to continue as you moaned his name in his ear, and he pressed wet kisses to your neck as he grabbed your breast. 

Two strangers in the night who had no idea of each other’s existence just three months ago. They had no clue of what their life was going to become when they met each other. It was the way you looked at each other that he knew you weren’t going to be just a stranger to him. Although he had a bit of alcohol in his system, he knew in his heart that he was going to find that sort of comfort and caring personality when he started talking to you. 

Harry continued to make love to you as the moonlight was seeping through the blinds, like the love that seeped through your veins for each other. He brought you both to your highs, and the only thing that was heard was the hushed moans and groans that came out of your mouths that could signify the love you have for one another.

It was that moment that changed everything. 

The fourth month had approached sooner than you would like. 

You and Harry hadn’t discussed what was going to happen when you had to leave, but you had hoped that you could make long distance work. 

The feelings you had for him were nothing you had ever felt before. It had made you cry out of happiness in random times, but also made you want to scream because of how too good to be true he is. 

He treated you like a queen. Making sure to give you as much love as you could handle, but sometimes a little more because he couldn’t hold it in. 

Throughout the weeks, you had learned so much about him and him, you. You didn’t think there was someone in the world that was so kind and caring; someone who shares similar passions and likes the same things you do. He was an angel sent from above, and you wanted to keep him for as long as possible. 

One night, you two shared your pasts together as you laid in bed together after a session of love making and a few rounds of hard fucking per your request. 

The fear you had inside of you was trickling down with your words when you had told him your insecurities and stories of your family that you wanted to forget. But he took everything so well; never looking at you for your insecurities, but only for your heart. 

“They weren’t very really supportive of me--of what I wanted to do. They just expected me to follow what they wanted, and I didn’t like that…” His hands roamed your skin innocently, comforting you and let you know he was there for you. “I was already miserable there. I didn’t want to be even more miserable doing something I hated. So I went against their demands and they said they weren’t going to pay for anything. But luckily I got a scholarship, and moved away from home.” 

“I’m proud of you for doing that.” You looked up at him as he continued. “It’s admirable to see you chase your dream and do what you want to do, despite being told by parents who don’t support you. You’re strong for that, y’know?” You hadn’t responded; just took in his words of support and comfort. You kissed his chest, leaving soft and wet kisses to his skin. 

It was like you couldn’t get enough of him. The magnetic pull that you had between you had grown, making the force stronger than ever, and you never wanted to leave his side. 

As the last few weeks of studying abroad we’re coming to an end, everyone was focused on finals. There weren’t that many dinners or nights out at that moment, but everyone had time since the people who lived outside of England had a week before they had to pack up and leave. 

One night as Harry was in your room, studying on the bed as you were writing a paper for your final project, he had suggested visiting his hometown. 

“Darling, I have a question,” he perked up. You looked at him and nodded for him to continue. “You could say no and that would be totally fine, but how about we go to my hometown this weekend? We could even study over there. It’s less noisy and it’s not a hussle and bussle kind of town. I just want you to be able to see where I grew up.” 

You smiled, “Sounds nice. Where are we going to stay?” 

“Figured we could stay at my mum’s? She’s got a great backyard, or we could explore and I could take you around,” he said with great hope. Your heart fluttered, Harry wanted you to see where he grew up. He wanted to show you every corner of his hometown. 

“Oh…at your mom’s. Is she going to be there?” The thought of meeting his mother had scared you. You had never met anyone’s parents, and it was the nagging thought in your head telling you that you were going to mess it up. 

“Yeah, but we could get a hotel or something-”

“No! I would love to stay there, and I would love to meet your mom.”

Harry smiled, giving you a kiss to your lips before grabbing his phone and texting his mother.

The train ride to Holmes Chapel was about two and a half hours. 

You suddenly had a fascination with trains as you felt like it kept you calm while you watched different towns and buildings pass by. 

With the speed of the train, it had felt like you were in slow motion. Your eyes tried taking in everything you saw, capturing every moment of what you want to remember. And Harry is in a lot of those images. 

Holmes Chapel was very welcoming and warm. Despite the weather, it was warm. It felt like home. It was a small town and everyone seemed to know the next person, but you loved every part of it because it was where Harry grew up. 

His childhood home was even lovelier. Maybe it was because of the fact that Anne lived there and Harry grew up there, but she was ever so sweet and welcomed you in with open arms. 

She had taken a liking to you immediately, telling you childhood stories of Harry and his sister, Gemma, that only family knew. Harry was ultimately surprised at how quickly Anne opened up to you. He knew his mother was kind, but she kept to herself and didn’t speak when she was uncomfortable, so to see his mother laughing loudly with his also somewhat shy girlfriend, made his heart burst with love. 

Harry had watched them sit at the dining table, sharing stories as he leaned against the kitchen counter as he wore a robe to keep him warm while smiling so big that his jaw physically started to hurt. 

He’d never had felt so loved and had never loved anything like he does with you. It surprised him how fast he fell for you, but it was quite possibly the easiest thing he did. There was no judgement in the relationship. You had kept him grounded and helped him when he was going through a rut when writing. 

The only thing that was bad about the relationship was the distance that will be put between you two when you leave to go back home. He didn’t want this to become a fling, to have a time limit. He knew exactly what he was getting into the day he asked you to be his, and he didn’t want to let go of you. 

And he truly hoped you felt the same. 

Just after you and Harry were back in London after visiting Anne and his hometown, finals had approached rather quickly. You had had a great time spending a little time with his mother, and you think she liked you very much. There were countless conversations and laughs that you will never forget. 

“Can I ask you something sweetheart?” Anne asked. 

“Of course,” you said, and you had been nervous as to what she was going to ask. 

“You mentioned that you were leaving just before the holiday, but I just wanted to ask where that leaves you and Harry. Are you two still going to be together?” A frown had made an appearance on her face, resembling your own. 

“I would like to. We haven’t spoken about it, but I’m sure that conversation will happen soon,” you had answered honestly.

“You still would still want to be with him?” You nodded in response. “That’s great to know. I like you a lot, and Harry has taken quite the liking towards you as well, but I just didn’t know if it was some sort of abroad type of relationship; someone to just keep you company in a new country-”

“No, it’s nothing like that! I know it’s only been almost two months of our relationship, but I love him, and I would never let him go. I didn’t want to study abroad to have a relationship, but he stumbled into my life so unexpectedly and I don’t have plans of letting that kind of love go.” 

Everything you had said was the whole truth. You weren’t expecting a relationship to come out of this, but you’re so immensely happy that it did because Harry walked into your life. Although you hadn’t known him for a very long time, quality overruled quantity. The connection you two had made within the few months meant something deeper than a fling. 

Anne smiled and nodded, like she was appreciating you and her respect for you had increased. The topic was over, and it was onto the next that was followed by laughs. And that entire time you stayed at her house, Anne knew exactly why Harry had fallen in love with you. 

The last week of being in London had come very quickly, and sadness was an understatement. 

The people who were leaving had decided to start packing the things that they didn’t need and weren’t going to use anymore, so they had extra time to spend and go out with everyone because packing your things for four months plus the things you bought wasn’t all that fun. 

It was Monday morning after finals when you had heard your phone buzz on your bedside table. You had groaned as it felt like you had slept for only 30 minutes. You debated on whether to check it in your sleepy state. The buzzing had stopped, making your thoughts turn off, but started back up once again and you figured you should check it. 

Harry was calling you in the early hours of the morning. It was 6 a.m and if it were anyone else, you would ignore it. 

“Harry? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You had mumbled once you answered the phone. Harry chuckled, but also fell deeper in love as you were just as caring as you were awake. 

“Darling, m’fine! M’actually outside of your dorm. I didn’t want to knock and wake everyone else up, but get up. We’re going on an adventure,” he said in a hushed voice, and you practically heard his smile through the phone. 

“Harry…” your eyes were still closed, exhausted from your slumber. 

“Please, baby. You won’t regret it.” 

And you didn’t. You never regretted anything when it came to Harry. 

You had gotten up and dressed warm enough for your adventure, and met Harry outside to which he rewarded you with a hug and kiss, thanking you for putting up with him. 

You both got in Peter’s car that Harry had begged him to take for a little bit, and luckily he agreed because the tube wasn’t running at that time. With Harry’s arm in your lap, you leaned on his arm as you closed your eyes until he took you both to your destination.

It was still a bit dark out, but it was way past the starry night it was a few hours ago. The sun was just about ready to rise, and the early bird got the worm. 

Harry had held your hand as he led you both up to top of the Primrose Hill, showing the beautiful London city. It had taken you both a while to get to the top, due to you being extremely sleepy still and sluggishly holding you both back. Harry had set a blanket down for you two to sit on, and you immediately snuggled into him. 

“Don’t fall asleep on me, darling. We have a sunrise to watch,” he said, leaning his head down and caressing your face. 

“Mmm. Tired,” you grumbled. 

“Please? It’s your last week here,” he said sadly, and you wished you hadn’t complained that you were tired because hearing his tone had almost broke your heart. But that woke you up slightly, realizing that you didn’t want to miss another moment with him. 

The sky had gotten a little lighter, and Harry checked his phone for the time, about 30 minutes till the sun started to rise. 

“Tell me something,” he said. It had been a thing you two did when you started hanging out. It was sort of a confession time; either can say anything you want to say and the other will listen. 

“I’m going to miss you so much that the thought of us not being physically next to each other will hurt so bad,” you confessed. 

“I’m going to miss you too.” 

“Baby, you don’t understand. My heart will completely break once I part ways with you at the airport. I cant handle it, Harry,” your body had completely faced his, and he noticed your eyes were swollen from the lack of sleep and the incoming tears. 

“Hey, I know exactly how you feel. You’re not the only one who gets to feel like that,” he said more seriously. “But we’re gonna get through this, okay? We’ll do everything to make sure we make it together,” he had placed a hand on your cheek. 

“You want this right?” Your insecurities had gotten in the way and you needed reassurance from him, and Harry knew that and didn’t ever complain to give it to you. 

“Of course, baby. Never gave you a reason telling you I didn’t want this, right?” You shook your head, tears had made its way down your face, and Harry had shared the same tears as you. “Then don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine. I’ll make sure of it.” Harry held you to his chest and you both cried in each other’s arms. 

The sunrise was as beautiful as ever that morning, screaming for a new beginning as the sun illuminated the sky into an orange and yellow glow. The new beginning was right in your arms as you held him tighter while tears fell down both of your faces, feeling powerful and stronger together as you two poured every emotion and energy into each other. 

Harry was your sunrise and your sunset. 

You wanted to spend the beginning of every morning with him and have him be the last thing you see before you are pulled into a deep slumber, dreaming of him for hours until you see his face again and make him your reality. 

And you both were going to make it. 

The ride to the airport was long and filled with silence as words weren’t needed at that time; only the hurt because of the love that was so strong that nothing could come between you two. Not even distance. 

You already missed the whole group dearly, and the last dinner with everyone was bittersweet. It was an emotional one as everyone talked about their favorite times and laughed at memories of drunken stories. And at the end, everyone raised a glass. 

“To the best group of friends out there.” 

“To a talented ass group of artists and writers.” 

“To love, laughter, and the pub.” 

“To new beginnings, but never endings.” 

Everyone cried and hugged each other, making the moment last forever, but it was definitely not the last time. 

You slowly walked with Harry, hand in hand as he rolled your luggage, to the area where you both had to part your ways. He had kissed your hand and head multiple times until you stood facing in front of him. 

The embrace you two shared was the most gut wrenching feeling you had ever felt in your life, and it felt like your heart was physically breaking along with Harry’s. 

Your hearts had always been in sync, beating as fast as the other or filling in beats for one another when one of your hearts had skipped a beat. Being without one another would feel like a missing beat in your hearts, and you needed the other to fulfill it.

“This is not goodbye. It’s never going to be goodbye with you, okay?” Harry’s voice croaked and you nodded, too afraid to speak as tears spilled out of your eyes. 

You were breathing deeply, knowing you should go through TSA already as you both were trying to spend every last minute together. 

“Tell me something?” Harry had asked one last time in person. You thought hard about it, wanting to make it the best one he’s ever heard. 

“I love you, baby.” 

He gave you a small and sad smile as more tears formed in his eyes, “I love you too. So much, darling.” 

And then you were off.

Harry had watched you walk away until he couldn’t see you anymore before he had sulked back to his dorm, crying all the way back. He felt empty without you beside him. With spending everyday with each other for the past four months, it had felt like a punch to his chest when you had left. 

When he had gotten back to his room, he noticed a large square board wrapped in festive wrapping paper with an envelope attached to it. 

‘To my lovely Harry, 

Thank you for loving with me, laughing with me, and living with me. You’re the best person I’ve ever come to know, so I hope you enjoy this piece that was dedicated to you (and our group of friends). I’m so grateful you’re the person who has my heart.

I love you and miss you so much. 

Yours forever.

The tears hadn’t stopped since he saw you leave, and they kept on coming as he opened his present.

Sitting in his hands was your final project along with your paper. It was a painting of his hand holding a heart as blood dripped from it. He noticed it was his hand because of the various rings he wore. The London Eye, Big Ben, the Eiffel Tower, and the pub were at the aorta as a plane curved from around the heart. The background was painted as an orange and yellow color, symbolizing the sunset. 

Harry sobbed and hugged your painting to his chest, feeling as if it’s the last thing he has of you for a while. He picked up your paper and read the title. 

‘The Power of Being Vulnerable’ 

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

And so you were sat on a floral blanket, two years later; setting up your lunch, and taking out your sketchbook along with your supplies. You had brought your painting easel, in case it wasn’t going to rain, and you’re glad that you brought it because the weather was just gorgeous enough to paint outside for a while.

Before you went to the park, you had time to make a quick and small charcuterie board that was filled with Brie, prosciutto, crackers, and honey; a snack that would take up your time under the warm sun. 

You started sketching your drawing until you felt a familiar pair of lips against your cheek behind you. 

“Hi, darling,” his raspy voice that had brought you immediate peace said in your ear. You turned your head, and saw the beautiful smile beaming down at you before sitting down and meeting you at eye level, giving you a kiss to your lips. 

“Hi, baby.” 

“Sorry I’m late, quite the line at the sandwich shop, but I got your favorite as always.” You smiled after him, thanking him for waiting in that line and for the food. 

“It’s okay, practically just sat down a few minutes ago, and set everything up.” 

“Okay, good. By the way, you look absolutely beautiful,” he took off his sunglasses to give him a more clear look. You were wearing a dress that complimented your skin tone, making your eyes enticing that he couldn’t help but fall more in love.

“Thank you, my love. You look so handsome,” you complimented back, leaning in to peck his lips. Harry was wearing a plaid button down flannel, black jeans, boots, and a fedora. His hair has grown much longer over the past few years, and you honestly love it. One day, you had told him that he looks like a prince to which you earned a blush. 

“Gonna paint, my darling?” 

“Yeah. Nice weather out today, so definitely going to.” 

“Can’t wait you see what you put together,” Harry smiles, making the dimples that you love so much, pop out. 

You and Harry spent the rest of the day together before it was time to head to dinner with the six other people that had changed your life. It was something simple like sitting on top of the same hill you were at two years ago that made your heart flutter. With his head in your lap as he read a book, occasionally stopping to scratch his head and give him a kiss to his forehead, and you sitting upright painting away as he fed you crackers and cheese, you would have never known this is how your life would turn out. 

You were extremely grateful for the years you were given to be with Harry and your group of friends that you love so dearly. You were a shy girl, scared of being scared, hardly opened up to anyone. 

But that same shy girl blossomed. She blossomed into a beautiful woman who was being praised and treated like the way she should. The man beside her had reminded her every single day that she is a stunning and caring person that deserves the world and more. She eventually started to believe it herself. She began to start seeing herself that way. She woke up and looked in the mirror and started to remind herself that she was beautiful and that she was going to take over the world. 

The affirmations had come from opening herself up to people who genuinely cared about her. Because being vulnerable isn’t bad whatsoever. 

It allowed you to let go of whatever pain there was inside your heart and leaned onto someone so they could hold your pain as well because you finally weren’t alone. You finally had people who loved you and needed you. 

You had opened your heart up all those years ago, and it led you to the best thing that’s ever happened to you. 

With two years of loving each other and two years of long distance, you had opened up your heart to the most special man in the world. The constant tears of missing each other from the other side of the world. The need to feel his touch. The tiring plane rides every four months to visit him, until it was his turn to visit you. The care packages. The long FaceTime chats. They all led to the best hugs when you reunited with Harry. 

You would travel the world and back if it meant Harry was your destination. 

And it was where the world took you that led to your forever. 

feedback is appreciated here! <3 also i would love to take blurbs for this and write more about them, so please let me know what you like to read!

[illfoandillfie]

Curtains - Part 4

SERIES MASTERLIST

Pairing: Roger x Reader

Summery: You turn Roger down

Warnings: Smut (18+), angst, an argument with some very mean words, rough sex, choking, badly handled Feelings

Words: 4,192 (longest chapter so far)

A/N: penultimate chapter is a bit of a downer lmao

Taglist (though notifications don’t seem to be working so hopefully ya’ll see this):  @laedymoon​  @dtfrogertaylor​   @ezmina98​  @vee-ndetta​ @atomic-watermelon​ @kellypenac​ @labessieisallama​ @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr​ @drowseoftaylor​  @hannafuckingsucks​​

@bohemiansweede​​ @rogershoe​​  @lnnuend0​​  @funitrog​

You’d managed to avoid Roger for a solid three weeks. It hadn’t been easy considering you went to the same uni and lived next door to each other and you still hadn’t hung your curtains, but you’d been managing alright. There’d been a lot of ducking into bathrooms or around corners when you saw him on campus. A lot of studying on your couch rather than in your room to avoid him knocking at your door again. A lot of leaving early and sneaking home when you knew he’d be playing at the pub or else crashing on friend’s couches when possible. Anything to avoid Roger and the questions he was sure to have about your cancelled date.  

The night he’d asked you out had been a sleepless one despite what you’d told him, your brain keeping you up with misgivings about dating Roger. Sex with him was one thing but an actual date was a whole different ballgame, one you weren’t sure you wanted to play. You needed more time to think, weigh up what you wanted. Did you enjoy being around Roger? Or did you just like that he could get you off? Most of your conversations had happened just before you slept together, while you were too horny to think straight, or just after, while you were coming down from the high. Which made it hard to know if you actually liked him, or it was just the endorphins talking. He seemed sweet enough, if a little full of himself, from what you knew about him, but really he was a giant question mark. He might be a complete arsehole. Or a control freak. He might be a serial womanizer. Or a serial killer. So you’d called it off, the day after he’d asked you out. A purposeful accidental meeting on his way out of the house. It had taken hours of sitting by your front door, changing your mind over and over again as you waited for him to step outside and head towards his van. A small wave to get his attention and then, when he’d smiled and greeted you, an apologetic look and some bullshit about a family situation meaning you weren’t going to be able to see him on Saturday. The lack of sleep might actually have helped you sell your story. He’d looked disappointed but not half as disappointed as he was a minute later when he tried to reschedule, and you said you’d have to get back to him with a day that worked. Since then you’d done everything in your power to not see him. Ostensibly so you could think things through, give yourself some time to work out what you actually wanted, though the reality of it was closer to making excuses and hiding. Sometimes literally hiding. He’d come over a few times, sending you scurrying for cover in your bathroom. You’d found notes each time, once or twice accompanied by a flower, saying he really wanted to talk with you. You stopped reading them after the third one, though you didn’t throw them out. Just left them in a pile on your coffee table, waiting for you to get curious enough to take a peek. And now it had all gone to shit because you’d forgotten to account for his dumb friends. 

“Y/N, can you just tell me what’s going on?” Freddie asked you, having cornered you on campus before you could think to escape his notice. You hadn’t even considered Freddie or anyone besides Roger wanting to talk to you about it.   “Sorry Freddie but it’s really none of your business. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got t-”  “Rog has been really bummed out since you cancelled on him. Moping around, playing the worst fucking music. Constantly, for two and a half weeks now. Just rubbish record after rubbish record. I think that entitles me to an explanation of what the hell happened between you.”  “It just didn’t feel right,” you shrugged.  “But fucking in the pub bathroom did?”  “That’s different,” you said, annoyed that he was inserting himself in your business, judging your actions, “The sex was just sex, I never signed up to get involved. Besides, Roger isn’t the sort of guy I date.”  “Bullshit,”  “What? You think because I'm shy and find it hard to approach men that I can’t have a casual fling? That I’m so desperate for attention I’ll say yes to anyone?”  “Darling you don’t have a monopoly on being shy,” He paused for a moment, eyeing you up, “Everything you just said is rubbish.”  “Excuse me?” You crossed your arms over your chest, waiting indignantly for Freddie to continue.  “It’s got nothing to do with things not feeling right or whatever else you’ve told yourself. It’s because you’re scared. I know you were scared to approach him when you moved in and you were scared to make a move on him at the pub. I saw you, hoping he’d notice you. And we all saw you after the show the other week, laughing at his jokes and all those little smiles when you thought no one was looking. You turned him down because you got scared.”  “Fuck off Freddie. We hung out one time, you don’t know me and frankly neither does Roger.”   “Isn’t that the point of going on a date though? To get to know each other?”  “Maybe I don’t want him to know me. He only thinks he’s interested because I’ve been sleeping with him. As soon as it stops being fun or he finds someone new, he’ll ditch me.”  “You need to give Roger more credit than that.”  “No, what I need to do is get to class,” you pushed past him.  Freddie's voice followed you as your stormed off, “Fine, Y/N, but can you at least talk to Roger about it?”  You threw him the V over your shoulder as you walked away.  

Still stewing over everything Freddie had said, you didn’t pay any attention to where you were walking.   Wanker, you thought to yourself, what’s it to him anyway. Not my problem Roger’s in a shitty mood and has crap taste in music. Says a handful of sentences to me while we hung out in the van one time and he thinks he knows a single thing about me. Thinks he can butt into my business. It’s got nothing to do with him if I never see Roger again! You spent the next few minutes cursing Freddie and coming up with a list of things you wished you’d said to him, only stopping when you realised you were standing outside your front door, yelling a single, loud, “SHIT” into the air. That summed it up really. Shit. Everything was shit. Missing a class you really should have been at was shit, being cornered and read like a fucking book by Freddie was shit, not seeing Roger was shit. You decided to call the day what it was – a total fucking lost cause – and have a nap. Your bag thumped against the floor where you dropped it by the door, your shoes making equally loud bangs as you kicked them across the room. The small pile of notes still sat on the coffee table, taunting you, but you ignored it heading stright to your room. You shimmied out of your jeans and climbed into bed, pulling the covers over your head to block out the sun streaming in through the curtain-less door. God I've really got to fix that. 

Just as you got settled you heard a tapping against the glass. You screwed your eyes shut, having a feeling you knew who causing the racket, and willed him to go away. He didn’t. Instead he tapped louder, his voice muffled by the glass as he called your name.   “Y/N, I know you’re in there! I heard you swearing!”  You buried your head under your pillow, trying to block him out. The constant tapping alone was getting on your nerves, never mind his voice.  “I can fucking see you moving around! Can you please just talk to me?”  “Go away Roger!”  “Not until you talk to me!”  “For fucks sake,” you hissed under your breath before throwing the covers back, “Fine!” You strode towards the door, yanking it open, “Fine, let's talk then.”  “Drop the attitude Y/N. You’re the one who blew me off and then fucking disappeared for weeks, I just want to know why.”  “Take the hint Roger, I don’t want to date you.”  “Jesus, yeah I got that. Why are you being such a cunt about it though?”  You stared at him for a few seconds, stung though you knew he was right.  “Well? Are you going to say something, or just stand there?”  You decided on neither, moving to shut the door in his face but he was too quick, wincing as it his his shoulder.  “No, you owe me an explanation Y/N,” he said pushing the door wide enough to get inside, “What did I do? Something happened between me leaving and the next day when you cancelled and I want to know what the fuck it was,”  “I came to my senses that’s what happened,” you stood your ground even as he invaded your personal space and a voice screamed in the back of your head to just stop and be honest.  Roger shook his head, “You think you’re being so fucking clever, don’t you? Well you’re not. You’re just being a bitch.”  “You don’t know me, Roger. You think cos we fucked a few times you know a single goddamn thing about me but you don’t.”  “I had it right the first time.”  “What?”  “The first time I fucked you. Left as soon as I’d finished with you, that was the right idea. All that hanging around after shit was a waste of time.”  “Yeah well, if you ask me none of it was worth it. Should have realised after the first time you weren’t a good enough fuck anyway.  “That's bullshit and we both know it. Do you have any idea how fucking pathetic you looked, how desperate, waiting for me to notice you? One fucking word was all it took to have you spread your legs for me, and in a room full of strangers no less. Literally begged to suck me off last time, like a proper slut. You’re the easiest pussy I ever got, Y/N. And It was stupid of me to think you were worth more than the time it took me to cum.”  “That’s how you feel is it?”  “Yeah, it is,”  “Really?”  “Yes.” His voice was dripping with contempt as he glared at you. 

There was a beat as Roger seemed to realise what he’d said, eyes widening in horror and then your hands were at his fly, nails catching against the denim as you almost tore the button off in your haste.   “Y/N wh-”  “Shut up and fuck me,”  He still looked a little shocked as you made to pull his shirt off.  “Jesus, do I have to do everything,”  That reignited his frustration and he managed to do what you couldn’t, tearing a few of the buttons from your shirt, sending them scattering across the floor, as he pulled it open to reveal your breasts. You got a hand into his pants, tugging at him as he pushed you towards your bed, door left standing open behind him. There was no time to think, no time to talk. One minute you’d been cursing at each other and the next you were lying on your back with Roger roughly pulling you towards the edge of the mattress. He let go of you long enough to get his pants down, moving your underwear to the side as he lined himself up. Your back arched when he entered you and you gasped as he paused.  “Fucking move, arsehole,”  “Still a pathetic slut,” he growled back bringing a hand to your throat as he leaned over and rammed into you. He’d been rough with you before but not like this. Careless. Inconsiderate. Brutal. Roger found a harsh rhythm and stuck to it, tightening his grip on your throat whenever you opened your mouth to hurl another insult his way. You grasped his wrist, nails digging into his skin which only seemed to inspire a rougher treatment. He didn’t bother to rub your clit, made no attempt to hold off his own orgasm and let you catch up. Left it up to you to get there or not. The familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach was only beginning to build when he grunted in your ear, hips stuttering. He left you feeling empty and unsatisfied, tucking himself away as you sat up and stared. There was a moment of quiet, both of you breathing heavily, watching the other.   “That’s exactly why I cancelled,” you said softly. You could feel your chest tightening, eyes prickling, but you were determined not to break down in front of Roger.   His shoulders slumped as he looked at you, absentmindedly raking his fingers through his hair, “Y/N, I’m, fuck, that wasn’t-“  “Get out,” Your voice was steady.  “That’s not how I wanted it to go. I didn’t mea-"  “Just get the fuck out of here Roger.”  He gave you a final apologetic look before flinging himself out of the door and disappearing around the corner. You held yourself together just long enough for him to leave and then you sunk to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest, tears falling onto them and rolling down your legs as your body shook with sobs. You hoped he could hear, door still standing open. You hoped the whole fucking street could hear.  

Over the next few days the fight was all you could think about. He, thankfully, hadn’t left any bruises or marks on your throat, but there was a dull pain where he’d thrust into you so roughly, like he’d bruised your insides. A constant reminder of what happened, not that you needed one. You heard Roger’s taunts almost in a loop, each word drilling into your skull. A cunt. Easy. Pathetic. Every time you closed your eyes you saw him, glaring at you, spitting out how little he thought of you.  But the hurt settled into a bitter vindication. So much for Freddie’s faith in Roger, you’d been right after all. Maybe you didn’t go about it the cleanest way but you’d done the right thing. You saw hide nor hair of Roger, not even so much as a glimpse of him on campus, though Freddie and Brian both tried to trap you. From what you could gather, they knew you and Roger had fought but knew nothing of the specifics. Every time you passed them they tried to stop you, but you ignored them, walked away as they yelled after you that Roger was sorry.   “He’s really fucking torn up about whatever he said to you,” Brian said softly, catching your arm as you walked home, “I keep catching him mumbling to himself about it. He swears he didn’t mean it, whatever he said.”  “Sounded like he meant it,” you wrenched your arm free and doubled your pace until you reached the safety of your living room. Eventually they stopped, giving up on trying to convince you, and you thought it was done. 

Until the day you got home from an evening class to find Roger sitting cross legged in front of your door. You stopped in your tracks, “What are you doing here?”  Roger jumped to his feet, dusting his hands off on the back of his jeans, “I Just want to talk,” he held up his hands like someone in a movie, trying to prove they didn’t have any weapons.   “I don’t want to talk.” The people in the movies usually had a knife or something hidden up their sleeve.  “Please, Y/N? I’m really sorry about what happened last time. I understand if you never want to see me again and if that’s the case then I’ll leave you alone after today. But I’d like to have a better goodbye than that.”  Crossing your arms over your chest, you considered him. Part of you wanted to tell him where to stick his apology. But he did look genuinely upset and sorry and you felt guilty, knowing the part you’d played, “Fine. Can you move so I can open my bloody door?”  “Actually,” he glanced next door, “I was hoping we could go for a drive. The other three are home and I don’t want them to overhear.”  “Worried they’ll take my side?”  “No. It’s just none of their business. So, do you mind?”  On one hand, a bit of privacy would probably be good and being elsewhere might stop another scene from erupting. On the other, though, it was harder to tell Roger to fuck off if he was your ride home.  “We wouldn’t go far, just away from here.” He looked over at his place again.   “Yeah, okay,” You said quietly.  Roger gave you a small smile, and held his hand out in an after you gesture, letting you lead the way to his van.  

The drive was almost silent. Music had started playing as the engine came to life but Roger turned it off before you could hear more than a few notes of the melancholy tune.   “Not your usual sound,” you said, awkwardly trying to make small talk.  “Spose not.”  You didn’t know what to say. Neither, it seemed, did Roger. Luckily, he didn’t go much further than a few blocks, pulling into the carpark of the local park. Usually the place would be crawling with children, screaming at each other and their parents. But now that the sun had set it was virtually deserted. A few people taking their dogs for late walks passed by as he backed the van into a spot.  “Let’s sit in the back, more space,” Roger said climbing through and opening the back doors.  “No instruments tonight?”  “Nah, not tonight.” Another small smile as he helped you through. You settled in the doorway, legs pulled in close to your body, taking up as little space as you could manage. Roger sat opposite, chewing on his lip as he turned his head to stare out over the dark park.  “I am very sorry about what I said the other day,” he looked at you and then back towards the pond, “I had an idea of what I wanted to happen except it didn’t go that way. I got pissed off and just wanted to hurt you.”  “Mission accomplished.”  “I know. Haven’t stopped thinking about it since. The second I left and h-heard you crying, I wanted to turn the clock back and undo it all. It was so cruel. Everything I said, did, was just needlessly cruel and I cannot apologise enough. I didn’t mean any of it.  “I know you didn’t mean it. Don’t get me wrong, it sucked but I pushed you on purpose,” You let your eyes wander over Roger’s face, watching his reaction, “I wanted to hear you say something like that. And then I instigated the sex because doing it confirmed what you’d said. It was just a way to prove I was right to not go out with you. Make myself feel better about being so horrid to you.”  He sighed, bring a hand up to rub the back of his neck “Like I said, not how I wanted it to go.”  You both stopped, waiting for the other to say something, though when it became clear Roger wasn’t going to continue, you stepped up.  “Guess I was looking for a fight. Freddie caught me off guard earlier, standing up for you, so I was already pissed off. I would have had a crack at just about anyone who came past but seeing you just made it worse,” you let yourself relax a bit, one leg slipping down to dangle out of the van, “We can talk now though. Promise I won’t bite your head off.”  “I just want to understand why you changed your mind. That’s all. Not to try and convince you to change it back or anything, I just want to know if something I did upset you or…”  “It wasn’t anything you did, Rog.”  He nodded, looking a little relieved, “Can I ask what it was then?”  “Yeah, umm” you sighed, trying to find the right words, “When you asked me out and I said yes, I was still on this high from the whole night. Hanging out with you and your mates was fun and fucking you in the pub was fun. And then you kissed me, which I wasn’t expecting. You’d never kissed me before. So going out with you seemed like a good idea. But then as soon as I was alone again, I freaked out about it. Freddie was right. He called me out for being scared and he was right.”  “Scared of what?”  “Everything? I don’t know. Scared you’d only asked me cos you’d been drinking or so I’d keep sleeping with you. Scared of getting hurt when you realised you didn’t really like me. Scared that one date would lead to two would lead to a serious fucking relationship. I panicked and decided it was easier to cut everything off thank risk anything. I handled this whole thing appallingly didn’t I?”  “Yeah, little bit.”  “Sorry.”  You both fell into silence again. Roger’s brow was furrowed as he looked at his own fingers. You stared out at the pond, the stars reflected in the water blurring the longer you went without blinking.  

It started to rain softly, the drops tapping against the roof of the van. You barely noticed the drops splashing onto your ankle or the chill wind that accompanied the shower, too caught up in your own head, trying to work out how to fix the situation you’d tangled yourself and Roger in.  “Shit, you’re shivering,” Roger said, breaking through the mess of thoughts swirling round your head, “I think I have a blanket back here somewhere.”  You watched, rubbing your arms to try and fend off the cold you’d only just noticed.   “Here,” Roger said at last, throwing a fuzzy blanket over your shoulders, “Wrap yourself up in that,”  “Aren’t you cold too?” you glanced at the t-shirt he wore.  “Nah, I’ll be right,”  “We could share,”  “I don’t want to overstep,”  “You wouldn’t be. Plus the extra body heat might help me warm up faster,”  “Are you sure you’re okay with it?”  “Wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.”  Roger scooted closer, pausing before he came closer again, testing the waters. When he reached you he pulled the blanket around his own shoulders, one arm falling behind you so he was pressed in close.  “Definitely warmer,” you said, leaning your head against his chest, ready to spring back up if he said anything. It felt nice to be so close to him again, without the anger of the last time.   “I did mean it, when I asked you out. It was a genuine request not some ploy to keep sleeping with you or whatever. Just so we’re clear.”  You nodded, leaning into him. Without thinking you began tracing your fingers over his wrist, following some marks you couldn’t see properly. There was a pang of guilt as you realised your nails had left them there.  “It doesn’t hurt,” he said softly, reading your mind, “probably deserved it. Did I hurt you?”  “A bit yeah."  He shifted your hair, trying to see any signs of how he’d squeezed your throat.  “Not there.”  “Oh, Y/N,” he held you tighter, wrapping his second arm around you, pulling you against him, “I’m so sorry,”  “It’s okay Rog. Only hurt for a couple of days. And if anyone should apologise more it’s me. I was a cunt and you didn’t deserve how I treated you.”  “It’s okay. I get why. But why don’t we make an agreement to stop going in circles apologising to each other and put it behind us, if we can.”  “Go back to before?” You asked slowly, sitting up to look at Roger, trying to get a feel for what he was hoping for, “Hooking up casually?”  “If that’s what you want, I can do casual. We don’t have to though; I’d be happy to just be friends, or whatever. As long as we’re not fighting anymore.”   “Friends would be good. But maybe you should try asking me out again? If you’re still interested?”  “Really? I don’t want you to feel obligated to say yes out of guilt or because you want to make it up to me.”  “Ask me,”  This time when he spoke there was no hesitation, “Do you want to go out with me sometime?”  “I’d really like that.”  Roger tilted your head towards him. He paused, looking into your eyes. And then, when he was satisfied with whatever he saw there, he kissed you. Softly, one arm around your waist, the other resting on your cheek. 

[azozzoni]

It’s like as soon as I have something else to work on, all I want to do is write fic... So okay, who am I to fight my impulses?

***

The smell of food wafted through the air as Filippo pushed open the front door to the apartment and he paused as he set down his camera bag. Eleonora’s cooking certainly didn’t smell like that on a regular basis. The chances of it being his mom were also slim, and he headed for the kitchen, poking his head curiously around the corner.

A smile spread over Filippo’s face as he caught sight of Elia, his back to the door, stirring something on the stove.

“What are you doing?” Filippo asked, stepping inside and watching Elia whip around, spoon clattering on the stovetop, as though Filippo surprised him.

“Fuck, Filo, make a sound next time,” Elia said, letting out a breath, but he didn’t seem upset, dipping his finger in something on the stove and holding it out. “Here, taste this.”

Amused but not surprised, Filippo stepped forward obediently, licking the white sauce off of Elia’s finger. He caught Elia’s wrist, holding him steady, meeting Elia’s smirk.

“Delicious,” he said, yanking Elia forward and kissing away the smirk on Elia’s face, humming contently when Elia wrapped his arms around his neck and melted into him. Nudging Elia away, he smiled at the way Elia followed his mouth instead. “But you didn’t answer my question.

“I’m making dinner,” Elia replied, biting his lip, eyes on Filippo’s.

“And how did you get in here exactly?” Filippo asked, glancing over Elia’s shoulder at the pasta boiling on the stove. He didn’t remember Elia saying he was coming over or he might have cut his photoshoot short. The prospect of Elia cooking dinner was too good to pass up—Elia was an infinitely better cook than anyone in Filippo’s immediate family, and there was always dessert.

“Eleonora let me in,” Elia said, seemingly reluctant to let Filippo go as Filippo moved over to the counter to inspect what Elia was doing, as if he knew anything about it.

“Where’s she?” he asked, not bothering to glance around. If she was around, she would probably choose to appear at the most inopportune moment.

Elia leaned back against the counter, eyes traveling down Filippo, as if they hadn’t seen each other last night. Not that Filippo minded. He bit back his smile as he purposefully ignored Elia’s wandering gaze.

“Think she said she was going out with Edoardo or something,” Elia replied, unconcerned, crossing his ankles, watching Filippo turn from the stove.

“And you just thought you’d come by and make dinner unannounced?” he asked. Elia wasn’t typically the spontaneously romantic one in their relationship—Filippo was pretty sure that anything romantic Elia did was thoroughly vetted by Nico and Marti first, which he appreciated.

Elia tilted his head to the side, looking pretty pleased with himself as Filippo boxed him in against the cabinets. Filippo knew Elia liked this, playing this game.

“If you’re not hungry, I can just go,” Elia said, failing at hiding his smile, as though he knew what Filippo’s answer would be. And maybe he did. Maybe after so many months, Elia knew exactly what Filippo would say to that.

Shaking his head, Filippo moved his hands to splay over Elia’s hips, watching the way Elia swallowed, mouth falling open slightly as his eyes flicked to Filippo’s.

“We have only one rule in this house, and it’s that you finish what you start.”

“Guess I’m in the right place then,” Elia said, licking his lips a little too seductively.

Filippo still wasn’t sure how this had happened, this thing with Elia, but he was glad it had. He was glad it had led to Elia practically breaking in, or at least somehow convincing Eleonora to leave him alone in their apartment so that he could look at Filippo like that, a little smug, a little wanting as Filippo shifted into him, their hips pressing together. He felt Elia’s exhale against his chin.

“You know what I like most about this kitchen?” he asked, and Elia hummed softly, tugging at the hem of Filippo’s silk over-shirt.

“How cozy it is?” Elia smirked, rolling his hips into Filippo, and it took all the self-control Filippo had not to get his hand in between them, get Elia’s jeans undone and his dick in his hand, just like he knew Elia wanted. He had a bit more restraint than that.

“That the counters are the perfect height,” he said instead, watching the way Elia’s eyebrow quirked down.

“For what?”

“For this,” Filippo said, hooking his hands under Elia’s thighs and lifting. Elia jerked slightly, grabbing Filippo’s shoulders as Filippo slid him onto the counter, stepping between his legs instead.

Elia’s surprise only lasted a second as he leaned into Filippo, slightly taller than him now, arms around Filippo’s neck, forehead pressed together.

“Have you done this a lot in here?” Elia asked, but Filippo knew he didn’t care about the answer. Elia was about the least jealous person he’d ever met. He hadn’t even cared when Filippo had met up with Dario to help with the donations, knowing they’d dated.

“Once or twice,” Filippo admitted, sliding his palms up Elia’s thighs, smiling when Elia wrapped his legs around his back.

“So it’s tried and tested,” Elia said, sounding satisfied, and Filippo had to close his eyes against Elia’s hot breath ghosting over his neck.

It was all very domestic, he thought, at least, the cooking was. Maybe not the way his fingers made their way under Elia’s shirt or the way Elia’s lips slid down the line of his throat, slow and tortuously hot against his skin.

A hissing noise interrupted the moment, and Elia’s head snapped up, cursing at the pasta boiling over.

“Ow, ow, ow, hot,” Elia said as he grabbed the lid with his bare fingers, tossing it onto the counter. “Fuck.”

“Come here,” Filippo said easily, pulling Elia’s hand towards him, blowing on the red pads of his fingertips while Elia watched. He didn’t miss how dark Elia’s eyes went when Filippo brought the fingers to his mouth, licking each carefully.

“Filo,” Elia said, voice low, a strain of desperation Filippo didn’t usually hear, breath short as Filippo sucked a finger into his mouth.

They’d tried a lot of things since they’d gotten together, and somehow, it never failed to surprise Filippo what turned Elia on, what made his pupils go wide, his mouth go dry, made him clutch at Filippo and say his name like a prayer.

“Fuck,” Elia breathed, dragging his wet fingers along Filippo’s bottom lip before he kissed him, full of desire and lust and just fucking need that Filippo loved. He loved that Elia wanted him like this, needed him like this.

Elia’s tongue in his mouth was slick and hot, Elia’s hands gripping at the back of Filippo’s neck as if afraid he might decide to leave. Filippo had no intention of leaving, not with Elia groaning into his mouth, body hot to the touch as Filippo slid his hands up Elia’s chest. He never had any intention of stopping Elia when he was like this, sliding forward on the counter so his hips could press into Filippo’s stomach, a slow roll against him.

“The bechamel,” Elia muttered in between kisses, and Filippo had no idea what he was saying, gripping Elia’s waist instead, fingernails digging into his skin. Elia didn’t stop the kisses, pulling at Filippo’s lip ring, barely breaking away to say again, “Filo, the sauce.”

“Hmm?” Filippo asked, distracted by the press of Elia’s hips against him, Elia’s arousal obvious through his jeans.

“Take it off the heat or it’s gonna burn,” Elia murmured in between licking into Filippo’s mouth, wet and slick against Filippo’s tongue.

Dragging his wits back together, Filippo pulled away from Elia long enough to yank the pan off the burner and turn it off.

“Have I ever told you how glad I am that you chose culinary school over Uni?” he asked, returning to the soft heat of Elia’s mouth, rising on his toes to regain the height he’d lost by Elia’s position on the countertop. He felt Elia’s smile more than he saw it, heard Elia’s contented sigh.

“Once or twice,” Elia said, echoing Filippo’s words from earlier, and Filippo laughed, sliding his hand down Elia’s stomach to the waistband of his jeans. He knew Elia was watching from the way he went quiet, the angle of his head as Filippo thumbed open the button, dragged down the zipper.

Filippo was sure this was what Elia had wanted when he’d decided to show up and cook dinner tonight. Elia never had a problem asking for it, telling Filippo exactly what he wanted, but there were times when Filippo got the feeling he just wanted Filippo to know. Like maybe it had been a hard day at classes but Elia didn’t want to say it, didn’t think it was important enough to bring up, so he showed up like this. Filippo hadn’t quite figured that out yet.

But he wasn’t going to turn Elia down, not when Elia exhaled, shaky, in his ear, as Filippo got his hand under his boxers, wrapped around Elia’s hot prick.

“Oh god!”

A voice behind him made Filippo startle, twisting to find Eleonora in the doorway, her hand covering Edoardo’s eyes, as if he needed to be shielded from the sight of Filippo and Elia.

“This is not why I let you have the kitchen,” Eleonora said as Edoardo shoved her hand down, rolling his eyes.

Careful, tugging his hand from Elia’s jeans, hearing Elia’s tiny huff of disappointment, Filippo hung his head.

“What are you doing here, Ele?” he asked, glancing up at Elia, noting the flush on his cheeks that probably wasn’t entirely from the fact that Filippo had been about to jerk him off.

“I can’t find my phone. I think it fell out of my pocket and into the couch.”

“Well, the couch is in there,” Filippo said, nodding at the living room, and he heard Eleonora’s scoff, as if she wasn’t the one who’d just interrupted what was going to be a very good time.

“Sorry, man,” Edoardo said as Eleonora finally left the doorway, and Filippo waved him away, lifting his chin to Elia once they were both gone.

Elia chewed on his bottom lip for a second before nudging at Filippo’s nose. “Maybe we should eat dinner.”

Reluctant, Filippo let Elia slide off the counter, closing his jeans and pulling the pasta off the burner.

“Only if there’s something amazing for dessert,” Filippo said, placing his hands on Elia’s shoulders and pressing a kiss to his neck. He heard Elia’s laugh.

“There will be,” Elia promised, and Filippo hummed, content enough for now.

“We’re leaving!” Eleonora called from the front door. “Please don’t forget the wipe everything down before we—Hey! Edo!”

“Bye, guys!” Edoardo said before the door shut behind them.

Filippo sighed, wrapping his arms around Elia’s waist, and breathing in deeply and willing down the heat in his lower body. “So what are we having?”

Elia glanced back at him, easy, and Filippo really didn’t care what it was. He never really did as long as Elia was the one making it.

“Something amazing,” Elia replied, leaning into the kiss Filippo pressed to his cheek.

“Isn’t it always?” Filippo asked, but he let go of Elia to help get out the plates, smiling as he watched Elia assemble the dish. Maybe it was disgustingly domestic, like an old married couple, but Filippo thought he could definitely get used to this as Elia met his eyes for a brief second, not bothering to hide his smile as he looked back to the dish. Yeah, he could definitely get used to this.

[simplyshelbs16xoxo]

‘Run Away with Me’ Chapter 6: I Don’t Wanna Fight No More

FFN | Ao3 | Buy Me a Coffee?

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               There weren’t any fresh bodies in the morgue today. Molly resigned herself to the fact it would be a long, tedious day. There was a good sized stack of paperwork that needed to be done, and so she worked for hours at her desk, only stopping to use the loo or eat. She was exhausted due to having trouble sleeping the night before, the fight she had with Sherlock continuously playing on a loop in her head until finally she had succumbed to the tears she fought.

��              Things brightened up a bit when Greg and Sally came in, a body following not too far behind them. “Edith Shepherd, twenty-eight,” he told Molly. “Found dead in her home around ten this morning.”

               Molly took a look at the body, now lying on the slab. “Cause of death appears to be asphyxiation, but she has many other injuries that will need to be looked at first. Any idea who could have done this?”

               “I think it’s the husband,” Sally chimed in. She almost looked smug about that particular comment, and Molly wondered if it was a jab at Sherlock and their marriage. Who was she kidding? Of course it was.

               “Well, maybe the husband’s innocent,” Molly shot back. “That’s the most obvious choice, well done.”

               Greg looked uncomfortable, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Donovan, why don’t you wait outside?” She rolled her eyes, but did as he asked anyways. When she was out of sight, Greg placed a comforting hand on Molly’s shoulder. “Molls? Everything okay?”

               “I’m fine,” she muttered, shrugging him off. “Sorry, I just—I’d like to get on with the autopsy.”

               He backed off. “Of course, my apologies,” he spoke gently. “I just, uh—well, I want you to know that despite the initial shock, I do wish you and Sherlock all the happiness in the world. And I’m no consulting detective, but I can see that you’re going through a rough patch. Just hang in there, okay?”

               Molly offered a sad smile. “Thanks, Greg. That really means a lot.” When he left, she picked up the scalpel and positioned it just where she needed it to be. Whatever clues this body could provide her would help in the long run. As she cut into the woman’s flesh, Molly spoke in hushed tones, “Please, just this once, don’t be the husband.”

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               “Hu-hoo!” Mrs. Hudson alerted Sherlock of her presence. He was curled up in his chair, his eyes unfocused. She set a cup of tea down on the small table before taking a seat in John’s spot with her own cup. The woman who was like a second mom to him said nothing, just sipped on her tea.

               Sherlock sighed. “What is it Mrs. Hudson? Couldn’t help but overhear mine and Molly’s fight yesterday?”

               “I’m sure it could have been heard all down Baker Street, dear,” she told him.

               He harrumphed. “It’s not as if you were entirely supportive of my marriage.”

               Mrs. Hudson straightened up in disbelief. “I never once said I didn’t support it. I was trying to give you advice. I adore Molly—I think she’s a good match for you. I was worried you weren’t prepared to put in the effort, dear. Marriage isn’t a choice to be made lightly.”

               “I know it appears as if I just jumped into it without thinking,” he told her, “but the two years I was away, all I could think about was her—that when it was all over, I’d come home to her. Where we live doesn’t even bloody matter to me.”

               The elderly woman gave him a knowing smile. “I thought not. But all the same, you will have to learn to compromise on things you truly don’t agree on.”

               “I know,” he sighed. “I said something most unforgivable yesterday. I doubt there’s any chance of forgiveness. Mycroft had me so convinced I’d mess this up, and lo and behold, here I am.”

               “Don’t you listen to him,” Mrs. Hudson advised. “He doesn’t know you as well as he thinks he does. Your brother may have taught you all that rubbish about relationships and friendships being a waste of time, but he’s wrong.” A beep from her flat downstairs sounded loudly. “Biscuits are done.” She stood to leave, but not without one last bit of advice. “Sherlock…talk to Molly.”

               He wanted to go to her last night, but thought it best to give her space. Sherlock hadn’t even slept in their bed, instead having fallen asleep on the sofa where her scent still lingered. He took a deep breath and finally got up off his chair. He grabbed the cup of tea, sipping at it slowly. Hesitantly, he made his way to the bedroom, his mouth falling slightly open at the discovery he made.

               Molly had left behind the book he gifted her in Paris. He reached out, picking it up, when several items slipped out onto the floor. Sherlock set the cup aside and knelt down to investigate. There were several photos from their time in Paris, but two in particular caught his eye. One was a photo they had someone take whilst they got married. It was of the kiss that sealed their nuptials. The other was one they took their first night in Paris, after having just made love—twice. They were in bed, Molly gazing at him adoringly, a huge smile on his own face.

               He picked up the second photo to admire it closely, his fingers brushing something taped to the back of it. Turning it over, he discovered a small bit of paper with his handwriting. So she did find it. It was the short message he wrote for her whilst he was dismantling Moriarty’s network that he had posted to the Lonely Hearts and Missed Connections wall in the bookshop.

               I need her. I miss her. My heart aches without her. I’ll be home soon, my darling.

               Sherlock checked the time. It was nearly six o’clock. In two hours, she would be off work. In two hours, he was going to see his wife.

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               “Mister Holmes.” The sharp tone of voice told him she wasn’t happy with him. Anthea raised an eyebrow, questioning him without a word. “I hardly ever find it necessary to question your motives, but I’m questioning them now.”

               He blanched only for a moment, resuming to his cool exterior. “Do go on, then.”

               “Exactly why are you badgering your brother? His marriage isn’t your business, and I mean this with all due respect, sir, but you need to stop being a child.” Anthea crossed her arms. “Love is nothing to discourage him from.”

               “He is incapable—he’ll only hurt her,” Mycroft replied. “I believe he thinks he’s in love, but it is a falsity. He wants it to be true so much, he is not only lying to her, but to himself.”

               Anthea shook her head in disbelief. “Why does it bother you so much? Why are you trying to hurt him?”

               Mycroft sighed. “I’m not trying to hurt him. I realise it seems that way, but trust me, I’m doing him a favor.”

               “How so?” she questioned.

               “The sooner he realises I’m right—that he and I aren’t capable of love—the less painful it will be for the both of them when it ends,” Mycroft explained.

               Furrowing her brows, mouth slightly agape, Anthea stared at him incredulously. “I don’t think you’re incapable of love.” She stepped closer, her hands steadying herself as she leaned over his desk. “I think you’re scared of it.”

               Just as quickly as she approached him, she straightened up and left, leaving a speechless Mycroft Holmes behind.

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               Molly breathed a sigh of relief after finally being able to clock out after having to stay an extra hour to finish up yet another autopsy. It took all her strength to keep it together, having to figure out what caused a twelve year old girl to pass away during surgery on her broken leg from the car crash she had been in. It turned out she had a brain bleed. A head CT could have told them that, but whoever her doctor was had chosen to focus all their time on her leg. One misstep had cost this young girl her life. It was heartbreaking.

               Upon reaching the street as she waited for a cab, Molly was immediately drenched from the pouring down rain. It was so cold, she felt the shivers deep in her bones. Needless to say she was thankful when a cab pulled up. Molly enjoyed the warmth of the vehicle, hesitant to get out once they reached her flat. She planned to make a run for the door, handing over what she owed the cabbie. Stepping out and into a decently sized puddle, Molly dug around for her keys, stepped up onto the sidewalk, and—

               “Sherlock?” Her mouth hung open as she stood there, unmoving, raindrops clinging to her lashes and falling down her cheeks like tears. Sherlock was just as drenched as she was—if not more—and his curls were plastered every which way to his face. “What are you doing?? You’ll catch your death out here!”

               Sherlock moved away from the door as Molly went to unlock it. “I was waiting for you to return.”

               She turned to him, eyebrows scrunched together. “You have a key.”

               “I was trying to respect your boundaries,” he replied. “Molly, I—“ She was pulling him inside by the hand, refusing to let go until they reached the bathroom.

               “Get out of those clothes whilst I get your spares,” she instructed him. “I’ll be right back.” Molly finally took the time to breathe during her short trek to the bedroom. Sherlock was here. He had waited God knows how long in the frigid rain for her, which had her so worried, she didn’t have time to be upset with him. She stripped down, even choosing to replace her damp underthings with dry ones, forgoing a bra, and slipped on her pajamas: pink shorts with black polka dots and an old uni tee.

               Before leaving, she grabbed Sherlock’s spare pajamas and boxer shorts, and took a moment to compose herself again. Molly stifled a giggle when she heard the sharp intake of breath her husband greeted her return with. She left him to dress in order to start up the kettle. Warm tea is just what they needed. It wouldn’t be too long now before Sherlock would appear, so she prepared herself for whatever he might say.

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               Now that he was in dry clothes, he was beginning to warm up. Sherlock took one look at himself in the mirror, his curls dampened and frizzy, and took a deep breath. No, he didn’t have any grand gestures planned, but Molly usually wasn’t one for that sort of thing. Though it would be nice to treat her with something lavish, this wasn’t the time for it. Hesitantly, he made his way toward the kitchen where the kettle was whistling.

               His nerves began to get the best of him the longer he stood there, watching Molly prepare their cups. He swallowed hard, feeling as awkward and out of place the night of the Christmas party many years ago. Soft and unsure, he spoke. “Molly.” He stepped closer.

               She looked up, watching as he approached her. “Yes?”

               “I am sorry,” he told her, his voice raw with emotion. “What I said—it was inexcusable, as was my behaviour.” Sherlock let out a shaky breath, taking her hands in his. “Molly, darling, I didn’t mean what I said. Being married to you is everything to me. I don’t regret it and I never will. And I don’t care where we live. We could live here and my Baker Street flat would just be used for work and experiments. It would be rather unsafe for us to reside there—especially you. I don’t want anything to happen to you or to the children we may or may not have.”

               Molly freed a hand out from his hold and caressed his face, smiling as he leaned into her touch. “You are going to kiss me right now, Mister Holmes, and then you’re going to tell me what’s been bothering you.” His eyes lit up, pleasantly surprised she was no longer angry with him.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Sherlock bent over as Molly rose up on her toes, their lips meeting, brushing softly together. The moment his tongue slipped inside her mouth, she whimpered, tugging him closer. He urged her to jump up into his arms, groaning when their bodies made contact, her legs wrapped around his waist. “Molly, I love you,” he whispered as she sprinkled his face with kisses.

“I love you too, Sherlock,” she replied breathlessly, sighing when he began to trace her mouth with the tip of his tongue. “Bedroom—right now, Sher—oh!” Molly tilted her head to the side whilst his lips and tongue worked at her neck. He drew back long enough to get them safely to the bedroom, gently setting her down on the duvet. His eyes sparkled with adoration for her. Molly slipped off her t-shirt and tugged at the hem of her husband’s. The rest of their clothes were shed quickly in a fit of impatience.

Hovering over her, Sherlock dipped his head down, pressing soft kisses to the hollow of her throat, along her clavicle, and the soft swell of each breast. He lowered himself, kissing her lips whilst his fingers gently brushed through her hair. Molly encouraged him, pressing against the small of his back with her hands. He buried his face against her neck as they finally lost themselves in each other’s arms. “I forgive you,” she whispered.      

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               Tracing circles on his chest with her index finger, Molly adjusted her head so she could face her husband who looked pensive. “What are you thinking about?”

               “What a fool I’ve been,” he answered, stroking her hair. “I allowed my brother to get in the middle of our marriage. In doing so, everything I feared would happen did happen.”

               Molly nodded in understanding. “A self-fulfilling prophecy if ever I saw one.”

               “He told me it would be best to end things before we were ‘too involved,’ which I assume meant before children entered the equation,” Sherlock told her. “Essentially, he said you would be better off without me…and I was frustrated because I agreed with him. I took it out on you, and I shouldn’t have.” He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling her lips press to his shoulder. “I only brought up the fact of you having not moved in completely because it somehow triggered my fear that you agreed with him too.”

               “Oh, Sherlock,” she sighed. “Don’t you think I’m the one who should decide who I’m better off with? Okay, so getting married was a spontaneous choice, but it only stemmed from how much I wanted to share my life with you—how much I love you.”

               He flashed a crooked smile. “I realise that now. Mycroft may think you deserve better than me—hell, I still think you do—but what you deserve more is the best version of me, and I haven’t been that since we returned to London, and for that, I apologise.”

               “We both have our shortcomings, and despite them, we still love each other. I have a tendency to run away when things get complicated—granted, not permanently, but I felt like I should have stayed after we fought or at least should have encouraged you to tell me what was really bothering you.” Molly slid her hand up into his curls. She laughed then. “Hell, we both ran away to escape everyone questioning our marriage.”

               “Well, yes, but a sex holiday is permitted for newlyweds,” Sherlock chuckled.

               Molly gave a playful roll of her eyes. “You are incorrigible.”

               “Mm,” he smirked, “but you love me anyways, don’t you, Mrs. Holmes?”

               “I do,” she smiled. “I really do.”  

[h-styles-babes]

TEN

It was no surprise to Sia that she practically bawled her eyes out while confessing everything to Mitch that afternoon. When her first tears had spilt, before she’d even got to her explanation, Mitch had taken her hand and stood her from the rolling chair she was sitting in. She’d willingly followed him to the couch that was set up against the far wall. He’d tugged her down beside him and let her keep a clutch of his hand. He sensed that she needed all the support she could get, and it holding her hand was enough for her, he’d let her squeeze the shit out of it all she wanted. He really wanted to offer her a glass of scotch on the rocks, since that was what this conversation called for, but it was only half noon, and it seemed a bit inappropriate when she was essentially still on the clock.

It took Sia nearly a half hour to spew out the whole devastating tale from start to end in a way that would connect for Mitch. She had to take multiple breaks to clear her eyes and blow her nose, but they’d become useless in the next few seconds, as her body readily produced more snot and tears. It seemed futile, but Mitch kept handing her tissues from the box on the table beside him, tightening his grip on her hand when he felt she needed that extra comfort. Mitch didn’t seem like much of a hugger or cuddler, so Sia was surprised when he slung his arm around her shoulder after freeing it from her grip, and pulled her body into his, guiding her to rest her head against his chest. He was skinny, so his chest was less comforting than she was used to, but she readily absorbed his comfort and warmth and used it to strengthen her resolve in telling him the whole morbid thing.

When she’d gotten out all she needed to, he just let her cry, rubbing soothing circles on her back as her whole body shuddered. Mitch couldn’t recall a time that he’d seen someone so emotionally tormented. He understood now why it was that Sia seemed so hostile toward Harry. And while he’d felt the need to remind her that she couldn’t really hold it against him because he didn’t know, Sia expressed it herself. She knew it was irrational to take the crushing sense of loss and anger at what had happened out on her ex-boyfriend simply for the fact that he hadn’t been there. No part of her clearly-thinking mind wanted to continue that behaviour, but emotions weren’t controlled by that part of her brain. Her emotions were raw and unfiltered and she honestly couldn’t help the visceral reaction her experience caused her to continue to have. She’d spoken at length with her therapist about it, and while she’d learned some coping techniques, the root of the problem still remained: she hadn’t told Harry. Both Sia and her therapist were pretty sure it was still a long way coming before that would happen, but she felt she was one step closer everyday that she was around him. Today had been a setback, but she was hoping it wouldn’t halt her progress completely. She needed closure too much to allow this to stop her from reclaiming her happiness.

Sia did her best to clean herself up before everyone was due back from lunch. She was starving, but she was just going to wait until they broke for the day to eat now, since she’d spent her lunch break letting her sorrows out onto her new friend. She apologised to Mitch about making him miss his lunch, which he’d shrugged off. She went to restroom attached to her room and applied concealer and reapplied her mascara that she’d cried off in order to have some semblance of composure when she had to face everyone again.

There was a knock on her bedroom door just as she was exiting the restroom, so she quickly went to open it.

Mitch was standing on the other side, a cup of tea in one hand—chai, she identified just from the smell—and a plate with two bagels with cream cheese in the other. She nearly started crying from his thoughtfulness. Her emotions were still raw, evidently.

“You’re too sweet,” she cooed, taking the mug from him so he didn't have to balance both things on their way back to the studio.

He flashed her a soft smile, a bit shy around the edges. “What are friends for?”

She gripped at his shoulder with her free hand and pulled him into her to give him a brief but meaningful hug. “I’m really glad we met, Mitch.”

His smile was larger this time, and he led her back into the studio, where everyone acted like a near blow out hadn’t happened just an hour before.

~*~*~*~

It was another two days before Sia and Harry talked to each other outside of the studio, and even there, their words were strictly for work purposes, only. Sia would suggest something about arrangement of instruments or a possible timing change for songs that seemed a bit too upbeat for the lyrical content. Harry would politely ask her to make the changes so he could listen, and then they’d all decide what the best route to take was for the song. It was civil and easy, since this was what both of them were most passionate about, but there was always an underlying sense of unease and tension between them, even when Harry would offer her a polite smile for her hard work.

It was strange, to say the least.

On Thursday, they broke early since they’d gotten a lot done, but they were a bit stagnant on one song that Harry had mostly recorded. He was unsure how he wanted the song to progress and felt that it was missing something, but he had listened to it too many times to actually put his finger on what it was that it was lacking. Sia and the rest of the technicians were at a loss too, so they’d called it quits just after three o’clock, promising to listen back with fresh ears the next day.

Sia, however, thought she was onto something with the song, and was unwilling to just abandon it for the day, afraid that it would evade her the next morning. So, she stuck around in the studio after everyone trickled out. Mitch hung back and asked her if she was alright, but when she told him it was just work related and she was fine, he’d nodded with a smile and left her on her own.

She took the time to play the entirety of what they already had recorded listening to it all the way through twice before she realised it needed something underlaying it in the background. It needed to be quiet but present, just enough to drive the song forward but not overrun the melodic qualities of Harry’s voice.

With sudden urgency, she grabbed the laptop she had been making the arrangement on and went into the booth. She picked up the headphones and adjusted the microphone to better suit her height. She pressed play on the track she already had set up and sat in the booth for a good half an hour, recording her own voice to underly Harry’s on the track, hoping to get it perfect to give the song that little bit more that it needed. Her vocals were barely noticeable under Harry’s in the chorus, but it gave it all a sweet note that she’d realised they’d been missing. She made a note to have Harry stack some vocals with hers, as well, to make it more cohesive. She also recorded ascending notes to fill in the pause before the bridge, hoping to make it flow in a way that everyone had thought it had been lacking.

When Sia felt that she had enough to at least take to Harry the next day for a suggestion, she took the headphones off and pushed the microphone back out of the way. She was just closing her laptop when she realised there was a person on the other side of the glass that separated the recording booth from the control room.

Harry met Sia’s eyes, and when he realised the look he saw there was one of shock and embarrassment, he flashed her what he hoped came across as a reassuring smile. He pushed a button and leaned in closer to the mic on his side to tell her, “Yeh know I’ve always loved your voice. No need to be embarrassed.”

He saw Sia huff before she came out of the booth, rounding the corner and playfully rolling her eyes at him. He was glad she seemed to be in a good mood compared to how tense all their interactions had been lately. It was a nice change from the absolute shit show their recording session had been just a few days earlier.

“I was just tryin’ to figure out what to add to this song. Think it worked out pretty well,” she told him. She placed the laptop on the control set up in front of them and pressed play on what she’d recorded. She skipped ahead to the parts where it was relevant, and watched anxiously as Harry listened for the first time.

Sia had always been astounded at what an ear Harry had for music. What she had studied at uni for years, he was able to do with just his experience in the industry. It had always been amazing to watch him work, whether it be writing or recording, and being a part of the production of his first solo album was an honour, despite how contentious it had been up to that point. Harry had an innate sense of when something was good, and it was a thing to behold.

So, it was with bated breath that Sia watched as Harry listened to the changes she had made. It wasn’t until nearly the end of the song that a smile pulled at his lips and he turned to look at her.

“It’s really good. I like that a lot.”

Sia raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yeah. I think that’s what was missing.”

Sia finally smiled at him. “Alright. Thanks.”

And that smile meant more to Harry than Sia would ever know.

~*~*~*~

Later that evening, after Sia had reemerged from the studio in order to fix herself some dinner, she returned to her room to take a shower. The humidity in Jamaica had her in a perpetual state of gross and sticky, and it was requiring showers nearly twice a day. Not to mention the havoc it was wreaking on her hair was more than annoying. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like for someone with textured hair. Harry’s short hair made it manageable but she was sure it would have been a riotous mess if it was still long.

Sia took her time too deep clean her hair and exfoliate and shave and all those things girls always want to have time to do in the shower but never really get a chance to do. She was just stepping out, with a towel already wrapped around her hair, when there was a knock at her door.

“Yeah?” she called out, wrapping another towel under her arms. She was assuming it was Mitch, possibly coming to suggest they go out on the sand and have a bonfire or hang out on the patio with a beer or glass of wine.

However, she was surprised when her door opened, revealing Harry’s aforementioned flouncy head of curls, his eyes peeking in around the door. When his and Sia’s eyes met, they both widened, realising the precariousness of this situation. Harry seemed to come to his senses first, quickly trying to backpedal.

“Sorry,” he quickly said, fumbling to try to exit the room, walking backwards.

Sia caught sight of the mugs in his hands, the things that were making it specifically hard for him to back out of the room.

“Did yeh bring tea for me?” she asked, making him stop his awkward struggle.

“Uh…yeah. It’s that chai one from Clipper yeh always liked. Know it’s hard to find in America,” he said, slowly inching back into the room, dutifully locking his eyes in on her face. He didn’t want to screw up this new lighter civil interaction between them by letting his eyes wander over her nearly naked body. It was obviously nothing he hadn’t seen before but he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable by looking at her for too long.

“Oh my god, yeh serious? Don’t leave with that tea, Styles. Bring it in.”

If Harry was surprised by her invitation to stay and bring her the tea, he didn’t show it. He walked in and gently closed the door behind him, leaving it open just a crack to not make Sia feel like he was blocking her in or anything. He was aware of how great of an opportunity this was, considering they’d been at each other’s throats for the last two weeks and hadn’t spoken to each other since about a month after their break up. He wasn’t going to intentionally do anything to make her more uncomfortable than she already probably was or upset her in anyway, since she seemed to have a pretty short fuse these days. He came here with a peace offering. Making her angry would be counterproductive.

“Hope yeh still like your chai with a splash of soy milk. I made it before I realised it’s been nearly a year since I’ve made it for yeh,” Harry commented as he walked to the bedside table. He heard Sia walk into the small walk-in closet and figured he’d keep his back turned in order to give her a little bit of privacy.

“Don’t think any of my likes have changed in only a year, Styles,” she called back to him, quickly stepping into a pair of sleep shorts. She was apprehensive about Harry showing up here out of the blue, but she was going to take this as the opportunity to call a truce with him. Ellen and Mitch were right: It was time to make the amends that she could so she could start fully healing. She wasn’t prepared to tell him everything, but hopefully this was the first step she needed to take in order to move forward.

“Except for your like of guys named Harry Styles,” Harry scoffed, mostly joking. He knew he had no right to be bitter, but her abhorrence of him hurt in a way that he couldn’t fully describe and definitely wouldn’t admit to to anyone but himself.

“No offense, but yeh brought that one on yourself,” she called back. She’d finally slipped a shirt on over her head, so she emerged from the closet to see Harry sitting gently on the edge of her bed.

She took her hair out of the towel on her head and shook it out with her fingers, tossing the town onto the edge of the bathtub.

Harry sighed and watched as she walked over to join him, picking up the mug he offered her before taking a seat more toward the middle of the bed, folding her legs under her.

“I know. And that’s kinda why I’m here,” he told her. He waited until she took a sip of her own tea to pick up his own. He nearly smiled at the little satisfied grin she got after she swallowed but figured she’d find it weird that he was watching her that closely.

Sia raised her eyebrows at him. “To discuss why you’re not my favourite person at the moment? Kinda masochistic, Harry.”

He snorted. “Not like that. I just…wanted to say that I’m sorry for snappin’ at yeh the other day. I shouldn’t have done that in front of everyone. Or at all.”

Sia smirked at him over the rim of her cup. “Kinda deserved it. I knew I was pokin’ at all your buttons. I should’ve known better.” Her smirk dropped and she sighed. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t’ve done that. Yeh don’t deserve it and it was incredibly unprofessional.”

“Jeff wasn’t happy with either of us, but I begged him off. Told him we’d get our shit together.” Harry took another sip of his tea. “I don’t blame yeh for buggin’ me like that. May not have done it very nicely, but it was actually sound professional advice. Jeff just doesn’t want this to escalate to something that jeopardises the production schedule. I promised him it wouldn’t.”

“If he’d talk to me, I’d promise the same.” She scowled down into her tea. “Guess we know Jeff is the type to take sides. At least Ben is still actin’ neutral.”

“He’s my manager, Sia. It’s not personal. He’s actually been askin’ after yeh. Wants to make sure you’re okay, but he’s afraid of upsettin’ yeh.”

“Well, let him know I won’t bite his head off. And I promise not to create any more trouble.”

“Then can we promise each other to put all our personal bullshit aside? Just for now, at the very least. I realise callin’ this truce doesn’t fix everything, but I just wanna get rid of the tension for now. So, if we could just tentatively be work friends, I would love it and really appreciate it.”

The way he was gazing at her, with those bright green eyes, all pleading and sparkling, it made her heart skip just like it always had when they were together. They were entirely too pretty for his own good, and she knew that nearly every person he’d come across had fallen sweet victim to that gaze. It was hypnotising and captivating. It could get him whatever he wanted, but Harry was too good a person to use it to his advantage.

Damn him for hurting her, but he was a one in a billion type of person.

“Yeah. I’d really like that,” she agreed. She flashed him a small smile that Harry hesitantly reciprocated. She chuckled at his apprehension. “I promise, Harry. We can deal with all our ‘personal bullshit’ after we’ve produced a kickass record. So, as long as we’ve agreed, we act like friends and get this done. Then, when it’s over, we can deal with…everything. If we’re feelin’ up to it.”

“I never wanted us to end up like this, Sia.”

The tears that swam in Harry’s eyes had a lump forming in Sia’s throat. She had to cough to clear it.

She nodded. “I know, Harry. I know.”

[birth-fic-lover]

Second chance with my teen crush

I was 15 when I saw Rai McCoy for the first time, I was new to the tiny sleepy english village and she lived in the house next door. It was so tiny that all there were just a few little shops and a lot of farms surrounding the area, me and Rai were the only teen girls in the whole village. Maybe that’s why she hung out with me, she was 17 and in the city I had grown up in she wouldn’t of looked twice at me. But here we would always be hanging out after school and at the weekends, she was tall with short brown hair. She didn’t seem to mind that I was shy and sometimes nervous around her at first, but the more time I spent with her the more confident I got.

We both went to the same secondary school and would take the bus together to it, but at school we were part of different worlds. She was a sixth former and I was doing my GCSE’s, but sometimes I swear she would give me a secret smile if we passed each other. When we were together we would spend hours listening to her music or climbing to the top of a tree and carving our names into it or swimming in the wide river that ran by our village. 

One hot summer afternoon we were taking turns jumping into the deep river, hoping it would cool us off. We had not planned on doing this so neither of us were in swimsuits, when we finally left the water her top was now see through. She caught me looking at her sports bra, it was the first time I noticed she had boobs too. It sounds silly but she had always been such a tomboy, suddenly it clicked that she was this amazing person but also an attractive girl. We had spoken about many things together, but never boys I guess because neither of us are really into them. I knew right then that I liked her because she wasn’t like the other girls who wore make up, she was my first crush.

I though she would get upset seeing where I was looking but to my surprise she took my hand and led me into the forest, “I’m getting a right rash, stay lookout while I take it off.” But to my surprise she doesn’t turn around, she takes off her top right in front of me. But she doesn’t look embarrassed she smiles a smile that puts a warm feeling in my belly, she takes off her bra and drops it to the floor. Then stepping towards me she asks for my permission with her eyes before taking my hand at bring it to her breast, it’s so soft and warm. I feel so safe and then with my hand still on her breast we kiss, I take my hand away and bring both my hands onto her back holding her naked torso close. When we break away she slips her shirt back on, then grabs her sports bra off the floor. I take her held out hand and we start to walk back to her’s.

From that point on it didn’t feel like anything changed between us but more our relationship grew, back then we weren’t able to even utter the word lesbian or bi or girlfriend but we didn’t mind what we were we just knew we belonged to each other. 

Being 2 years older Rai had always been a bit more advanced sexually then I was, but she never pushed me to do anything I wasn’t ready for. So the most of we did when hanging in the woods was kissing and the occasional exploring each others bodies, Rai told me she wanted our first time not to be a secret in the woods. But eventually it was time for her to go to uni, we both knew I wouldn’t be able to visit and long distance would never work. So we said goodbye tearfully hoping to see each other again one day, I kept hiding my sexuality focusing only on men until one day I saw her again.

After a bad breakup I was forced to move back in with my parents, I saw her in the back garden so I knew that she was still living next door. Usually I would rush over and find out how she was doing but I had a souvenir from my last relationship, I was pregnant and almost full term at that. It wasn’t that I was ashamed that I was pregnant it was that I had slept with someone else, although I was bi and had been with men somehow I wanted Rai to know that I had never felt closer to anyone as much as to her. 

I wanted a chance to explain myself before she assumed anything I guess, but then my mum told me that she had already told next door that I was back. I knew that I had to see Rai, I didn’t want her thinking I was avoiding her. So I took a deep breath and picked up the house phone, it hadn’t been since I was a teen I had rang Rai. I was surprised when she told me that her parents had moved and she now owned the house, I wondered if she had a partner or family to fill the house. My curiosity got the better of me and I asked her out to dinner, looks like she would be seeing me that evening in all my pregnant glory.

I got to the pub early securing myself a booth, the table hid my bump quite nicely. It wasn’t long before I saw Rai approach smiling. I only had a quick glimpse of her before, now I could see that she look pretty much the same just more mature. I wondered if she had a wedding ring on, I looked and saw her hands were clear of rings.   

We sat and the conversation flowed so naturally, it felt like no time had passed at all. She was so gorgeous in her check shirt and skinny jeans, I wanted her back in my life so bad. We ordered food and the hours passed so quick, a few times I caught myself staring at her wondering if she had someone at home waiting on her. I knew I had to ask, “What's been going on since the last time I saw you?” I asked.

"You mean since I was 18 and went to uni?" She said with a laugh "I moved back in with my parents after 4 years and a huge student loan, I started a business fixing computers and re-selling them. Then my parents moved south and I decided to buy my childhood home from them, I have too many good memories here to leave this place behind just yet. You were a part of many of them" she adds and I blush.

“Really, that's pretty cool. You a part of my best memories from here” I say before asking "so is it just you in the house?".

“At first it was" she says, and I feel my heart sink. "But then I did up the other 2 rooms and now I rent them out on air b and b. I thought it might be nice to have a bit of company".

“What do you mean?” I asked assuming she must of had girlfriends in the past or be dating.

“Well" she seemed to be the one blushing now "After I got back I didn't really have any substantial relationships so I've been a bit lonely, I met a few girls at uni but nothing that led anywhere. But enough about me, what about you?"

So I tell her about my job in the city and how I'm now back here, that I am also single. Leaving out my impending motherhood, but when I finished talking Rai gave me one of her no nonsense looks. "My mother told you didn't she?" I said.

She laughed "of course she did, I love your mother to pieces but we both know she's a gossip." I can't help but laugh, Rai is probably one of the few people I would let call my mother a gossip. So I tell Rai about how I was in but had been with only men, and how my last relationship had become boring and dry. But unfortunately one of our last attempts had caused my current condition.

“What did he say when he did find out”, Rai asked chewing on some bread from her meal.

"At the point I found out he's already moved on and found someone else, so he tells me he will financially support the child but that's it."

"So because he found someone else he doesn't want to even meet his child? Well at least he is paying his way" Rai says "but this is why I'm glad I never mix with men".

"I'm done with them, the only relationship I've ever enjoyed I was with a woman" I say with a laugh.

"I thought you had only dated men since I went to uni?" She asked rasing an eyebrow.

"I did" I say shyly "but you know, we were a relationship kinda".

Rai gave me a shy smile before starting to slide from the booth, “I’m done with my meal, lets go for a walk so we can stretch our legs."

I had already finished my food and we had paid when we ordered so I had no issue. Leaving the booth I revealed my large round and low hanging belly, Rai looked at me for a while a faint smile on her face.

She held out her hand and we walked outside, “how about a walk down memory lane?" She asked.

"Sure" I say wondering where she means, the pub was in walking distance of both our homes so we didn't have our cars with us.

Rai and I swing our grasped hands as we walk, she asks me "so why didn't you wanna tell me about the baby. I mean you obviously wanted to see me, but you didn't want me to know about the kid?"

“Well, I wasn’t sure you would go running off into the hills, I guess I didn't want to bring up my romantic history before I was ready." After a few minutes I know exactly where we are heading, and I smiled but Rai seemed to be thinking.

"It doesn't both me that your bi or that you've been with guys, I don't expect anything from you. But at the same time if something happens then I'd welcome it, I know that for some a child counts as baggage but not for me. We are both adults who've lived lives since the last time we were together."

"I'd like something to happen" I say before I can stop myself.

To my surprise Rai stops walking and let's go of my hand before, wrapping me in a warm embrace. “I have waited so long to see you again” she whispers in my ear and I feel like I’m back where I belong. 

We only part when my child gives Rai a large kick, “oh gosh sorry” I say embarrassed and disappointed the moment is gone. 

“No worries” she said, “that was a strong kick, how much longer do you have till the baby is due?”

“Any day now” I confess “since I’m so close to home I didn’t think it would be a problem”.

“Well as long as you tell me if it’s go time”

“Oh you’ll be the first to know after the little one let’s me know” I joke taking her outstretched hand and we keep walking.

"Even if it didn't happen today, i mean like would you let me be here for the birth" she asks looking a little nervous as she asks.

I can't help but smile, "Rai McCoy holding me as I gave birth, now that would really be something. I think if your truely seroius about sticking by us, then I would like nothing more".

We stop walking again and she tells me “this child doesn’t have to be a symbol of a failed relationship, it can be the start of a new one. Between you and me, if that’s what you want. Don’t decide anything yet, but think about it okay?”

"I already know I want you to raise this child with me". She smiles and we keep walking.

But the thing is I don’t want to tell her but I just then feel I dull pain, a bit like when I am on my period. I know I just promised but I don’t want our time together to end yet, especially if she is taking me where I think she is. While we walk I use my other hand to rub my belly, trying not to let on how uncomfortable I’m suddenly feeling. 

“Everything alright? The baby given you hell?” she asked laughing.

“Yeah” I said trying to put a smile on my face, I hope if I don’t think about it I won’t feel it anymore. But the prefect distraction takes my attention, the concrete path was turning into the dusty dirt one that lead to the river and forest we used to go to when we were teens. 

The memories came flooding back for both of us it seemed as Rai had a huge grin on her face too, we walked down the steep path that lead to the wide river. “I can’t believe we used to run down this path, how did we not fall head over heals”.

“I guess we were too busy falling head over heals in other ways” I said clinging onto Rai to keep myself from falling. Rai looked concerned for a second, but before she could say anything I said “I’m fine, just my centre of gravity has changed. So, when was the last time you went to the river?” I asked trying to distract Rai.

“Right after I got back from uni for Christmas during my first year, but it never felt the same. You had gone to your grandmothers, this place isn’t special without you” she said softly. We stopped at the bottom of the path, “what about you?”

“All the time, I would come here to remember you and us I guess. You were more then a first crush, you were my first love” I said. It felt effortless to tell Rai these things. 

“You were my only love” she said, “I guess I never got over you”.

“I tried but I never got over you either” I said, Rai stepped closer and then took my hand and pressed it against my belly her hand over mine.

"I can't believe your back in my life with a chance to be a family due any day now".

“I just don't want that family life to start right this moment ” I half joke and we kissed, my heart beat fast in my chest. I felt 16 again kissing my best friend, I felt 15 again seeing her for the first time. But now I was able to keep her and be with her forever. 

Another mild cramp clenches in my belly, I just need to keep ignoring it for a while longer. Then I have an idea, "why don't we have a dip in the river? Just like when she were teens, the weather is perfect for it. We can just wear our underwear, we will dry in seconds afterwards." I know that the water will help with the pain, plus it eould be nice to relive the memories.

Rai looks at me for a second and shrugs "I mean I suppose it woukd be nice". We start removing our clothes, Rai helps me with mine and we wade into the water hand in hand.

When we get knee deep Rai takes a proper look at me, my arms naturally wrap around myself. I know I don't look as hot as I did as a teen, my belly covered in stretch marks and breasts now long and heavy with milk. But Rai seems to be looking at me like I'm a piece of art, "pregnancy suits you." She says softly, then continuing, "its a shame i didn't get to watch you grow and develop with child".

"There's always next time" I hear myself saying, but I wonder where it came from. A next time? I hardly have finished being pregnant this time.

“Next time, I like the sound of that” she said, then after a moment or two passed she looked at the water. I squeezed her hands and we get deeper into the river careful of the tide, we don't want to be swept away.

She held me protectively and it felt great to be in her strong arms again, my breasts against her forearms both covered in little droplets.

I was right about the water helping, but I knew that once we were out the water I would have to tell her it was time. But till then I enjoyed splashing and chatting more, but mainly we floated next to each other.

"My belly looks so huge" I said,

Rai laughed, "it's very pregnant, I think you look beautiful. I think your baby will be beautiful, I'm just so happy”.

“Me too" I say, then I don't know who kissed who but our lips connected, and we fell into a deep passionate embrace both trying to stsy afloat.

"Maybe we should get back on land" she saud stroking my face.

"NO" I insisted, Rai looked at me curiously.

Her hand slid smoothly over my belly, "everything okay?"

I nodded "please" I say, for a second I don't know if she knows that I'm begging for this moment to continue for a little longer before rushing to the hospital or if she just thinks I want to enjoy the river longer. She draws me close, holding me with one arm and exploring my body with the other. The memories just kept flooding back, her exploring my body wasn't just sexual it was her way of showing me how much she loved me.

As our legs intertwined as I pulled her hips against mine, "I got you" she whispered. We kissed again and again, until I let out a moan againt her lips. I knew just then that these were contractions, my labour was progressing. I had hoped that I could pretend it was a moan of pleasure but my face gave me away twisting in pain.

"I know it’s time, I felt your belly just harden" Rai said and I just nodded. Without a word Rai gathered me and got me to the river bank.

“I’m sorry” I said “I just wanted some time just you and me before...” but Rai shh’d me.

“It’s okay, I understand. But lets get you to my car so we can get you to the hospital”. She helps me get dressed before I watch he dress herself, so rough compared to how gently she helped me get dressed. I felt my belly tighten again and Rai came straight over, she kept a hand on my back as we climbed the steep path. 

I kept stopping rubbing my low belly, “this isn’t helping, infact I think walking against gravity is making my labour progress”. 

“Once we get on the flat I can carry you” she offered and we kept moving, I looked forward to sitting in the car once we were outta here. I tried to pant though the pain but it was getting more intense, “this baby is in a hurry too meet you” I said and Rai looked worried. 

As soon as we got to the top of the slope I clung onto a bench, I started to feel a lot of pressure. I swayed my hips and released a groan I didn’t realise I had been holding inside of me. “Naaahhhhhhhh hooo hoo naaaagggggaaaaa”. 

Rai went pale, “are you pushing?” she asked.

“No no” I reassured her, “I think I’m gonna be okay now that it’s a flat path”.    

“Still want me to carry you?” she offered, but I shook my head. I didn’t want to risk any sudden movements that might squeze this kid outta me.

“Then lets hope walking isn't making it worse”, she said not hidding the worry that was conveyed on her face.

Just before I could respond I felt a contraction that was like a vice like grasp around my middle. "Ohhhhhh noooooo, no no nooooooohhhh gaaaahhhhhhh" I moaned. Rai put her hands on me to keep me steady, "gaaaahhhh the pressurrrrrrre its tooooooo muchhhhhhh" I moaned.

"Dam I wish we weren't so far from the main road, there is no way I can even explain to an ambulance crew where we are. But I honestly don't think we are gonna make it back home in time, let alone drive you to the hospital."

I put my head on her shoulder, "I wish we jad stayed down by the river, the water helped with the pain" I said glad my contraction was over.

"Me too, but we will have to make do with what we have around us. I don't think it's wise to move you much further". With that Rai carried me to a patch of grass in time for me to hold onto a tree as another contraction took over.

"Gaaaaahhhhhhh" I moaned "ohhhhh ohhhh GAAAAAAAHHHHH" and then something inside me realised as I felt my waters break and trickle down my leg before becoming a gush. I could feel gravity pulling the baby down into my birth canal, the primal urge to push took over. My legs bend as I sqaut slightly, I can sense Rai can see whsts happened as rubbing my back and letting me do my thing.

"That's it" she whispers, "just follow what your bodies telling you to do. Your gonna be an amazing mother, no wonder our baby is wanting to come meet you."

My contraction ends and I feel my body relax before it tenses up again for the next one. I keep pushing and breathing, it didn't take long until I felt the head against my cervix. "Gaaaaahhhhh, our baby is about to start crowning".

"Don't push anymore, we need to remove your panties" Rai reminded me.

"TAKE MY DRESS OFF FIRST" I shouted agreeing I needed to be able to push the child out without my clothes being in the way. The dress was easy to take of but my panties was another matter, I was in such a deep sqaut at this point and there was no way I could straighten up. "I can't" I explained in the precious few seconds between contractions “it’s too late the baby's coming out.”

I couldn't fight it, now I was pushing I had to continue. My lips parted more and more as my baby crowned, soon there was a bulge between my legs. Rai was now on her knees behind me and I held the tree for support, she put her hand on the hard round mass that was our childs head as it emerged. "Thats it, keep going." She encoraged me as I strained to deliver the child, she held my underwear out the way as finally the head popped out of me.

“Make sure the cord…” I started to say.

"Don't worry theres nothing around the babies neck" she confirmed and I continued to push, now battling the shoulders. I moaned as the baby's shoulders were hard to birth, but then I was surprised as I felt the baby slide out of me.

Rai seemed ready as she caught the baby pulling my panties down in the process, I turned around and leaned against the tree. She handed me back the child as it started to cry it also pinked up. Both of us were speechless, looking down at the new life in my arm.

"You did it" she said, "our son, our first child".

I laughed "yes first of many I suppose" because we both knew that we made a great team and we couldn't wait to do this again.

[neo-couture]

mine

When Lucas woke up that morning, he had no idea he’d bump into you at the café down the street. It had been a year since you’d last seen each other, since Lucas had left to study abroad. You’d only known each other a short while so the two of you decided to call your thing off. It was casual, so it was fine. But Lucas got the impression it was “casual with lots of feelings” that neither admitted to or said aloud. He figured he’d get over you after a year in Japan, and he’d tried. He’d dated other people, but all he could think about was you. Short lived as the relationship might have been, it had left quite an impact.

He told his friends he’d be back in a sec, before strolling up to where you were sat focused on your laptop. “Y/N.”

You looked up from your paper and recognized the man in front of you immediately. Lucas – that Lucas – was standing in front of you with a cup of coffee and a big, dumb grin.

“Lucas? Oh my god, hey! How’s it going?” You got off your chair and gave him a quick hug, letting your hand linger on his arm. He was wearing a baggy hoodie, a staple of his when you were dating. Or whatever the relationship had been.

“Good! It’s been a while,” he gave you another crooked smile, the kind he used to give when he wanted to say more. “How have you been?”

You two briefly caught up, asking how uni was going and typical things like that. It was really good to see him. You knew he was with his friends so you didn’t keep him, but as he turned away, he caught himself.

“Give me a call, okay?” You blushed and nodded. With a wide smile, he turned and went back to his friends. You caught some of their stares, but went back to your paper, grinning to yourself.

Lucas tried to act casual about it when he told his friends who you were, but the faint pink on his cheeks was a dead giveaway.

“That’s Y/N? Dude! What’re you doing back here talking to us? Go and talk to her again, try and get her back,” Yuta said. “Look man, I know you never got over her. The universe is giving you a second chance, right here in this cafe.”

Lucas flushed and looked into his coffee cup when Johnny chimed in after blowing on his coffee, “we are all very aware, Lucas. You can’t hide it from us.”

“She’ll call,” Lucas said. And he really hoped you would.

--

You did, of course, the next day, asking him if he wanted to meet. You invited him over to your apartment and it felt like old times. He didn’t even ask for your address and you were secretly thrilled that he remembered.

Twenty minutes later, Lucas showed up on your doorstep looking slightly disheveled but happy, a bag of food in his hands. The smell wafted up your nose and you realized that you were starving. You pulled him in, feeling oddly giddy.

The two of you sat on the floor, food scattered about the coffee table. You caught up on the past year, Lucas’ semester abroad, your semester here, and you found that you really missed taking to him. His loud laugh, funny jokes, and his big gestures brought along a sense of nostalgia. Just having him next to you in your apartment again made you feel warm and comfortable and safe.

While you were talking, Lucas’ hand gravitated towards your thigh, his thumb tracing small circles. There was no ulterior motive to the gesture, other than wanting to touch you the way he had many months ago, but it made your stomach twirl. It was so familiar and you hadn’t realized just how much you craved him.

You waited a decent amount of time after you had finished eating, not wanting to appear desperate, before you just couldn’t take it anymore. You swung a leg over his lap, straddling him. Lucas’ eyes widened in surprise. Not giving him time to say anything, like one of his dumb (adorable) quips, you tugged your shirt off, leaving your chest bare. His jaw almost dropped to the floor and he hesitantly reached out to touch you. His large hands covered your breasts as he massaged them in his palms. It was gentle, yet rough, as his hands were rough and calloused, just as you remembered. You’d always bugged him about moisturizing and a smile tugged at your lips, knowing some things hadn’t changed. You flipped your hair out of the way and tugged him in for a kiss, feeling his lips on yours for the first time in a year. You let out a soft whine and Lucas grew more confident with his touch, squeezing harder and rubbing your nipples with his thumbs. Pulling away with a soft click, you gasped against his parted lips.

“I’ve missed you,” he said with a dopey grin.

You laughed. “I missed you, too.” With that, you connected your lips again, swallowing each of his groans and whines. You rolled your hips down on his lap, feeling his erection grow beneath you. His large hands had moved from your chest to your waist, gripping tightly and urging you to continue you movements. You hoped there would be bruises.

One of his hands snuck down the back of your pants, over your ass, and he dipped a finger inside your dripping entrance. You moaned and rocked back on his finger, hoping he would add another. When he did, followed closely by a third, you whimpered into his neck. You’d forgotten how amazing his fingers were; long and bony and well acquainted with your body.

Once you’d had enough, you cupped his jaw and locked eyes with him. “Fuck me. Please. I need you.”

Lucas didn’t need to be told twice and he made quick work of his shirt. He pushed you onto your back on the floor, asking if it was okay. You nodded, not giving a shit where he fucked you so long as he did. And ideally soon. Lucas tugged your pants and underwear off, leaving you completely naked beneath him. Your legs settled on either side of him, giving Lucas a perfect view of your wet, swollen pussy. He breathed out a soft fuck and quickly took off his own pants.

His cock hung heavy between his legs and you clenched at the sight of him, recalling how it felt to have his long, thick length inside you. Lucas searched his jeans for his wallet, and pulled out a condom which he quickly opened and rolled on. Reaching out, he put his hand by your mouth. “Spit, baby.” You smiled and did as you were told. Lucas was always kind of dirty like that, and you loved it.

You watched, enraptured, as he slicked up his cock with your spit and positioned himself at your entrance. When he start pushing in, you collapsed against the floor with a groan. He went slowly, pausing occasionally to allow you to adjust. “Relax, baby.” Leaning over you, he nibbled on your earlobe. “No one’s been fucking you good, huh? Not since I left? Not used to a big cock anymore, are you?”

It was then you remembered Jihoon and wondered if you should tell Lucas. No, it was only casual with Jihoon. That’s what you decided anyway. And besides, Lucas did have a point; no one had fucked you like this. And you didn’t want him to stop now.

So, you shook your head and whimpered as he bottomed out.

“Atta girl,” he whispered. “You always could take me so well.”

Once you had adjusted to his size, he started moving, dragging his cock in and out of you at a painfully slow pace at first. You urged him to go faster and he began pounding into you at a relentless pace. His elbows rested on either side of your head, his face so close to yours. You felt something. Something that was foreign to you. Yet it felt so present in that moment with Lucas and his bright eyes locked with yours, his fingers toying with your hair. It was a lot.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you focused on his cock inside you which, admittedly, wasn’t hard to do as he was hitting that spot mercilessly. Lucas was also a biter, and so he was gently nipping at your jaw and your neck, growling each time you tightened around him.

As both your climaxes approached, Lucas hooked your legs over his shoulders, effectively bending you in half. He must’ve remembered you liked it this way because of how the head of his cock constantly pressed against your most sensitive spot. Tears spilled from your eyes and he breathed your name and soft curses into your mouth.

You surprised yourself, and Lucas, when your orgasm washed over without even being touched. Your legs shook around him as you cried out and he cursed as he watched you. He finished not long after, spilling into the condom. You barely registered this as your brain had basically shut down, overstimulated as he fucked you.

Your legs fell beside you, completely useless, as Lucas pulled out. He pressed his lips to yours for a brief kiss.

“Mm, just as amazing as I remember.”

--

The next day, after Lucas had left for class, you got a text from Jihoon. He wanted you come over for dinner. You felt a pang of guilt, thinking about how you and Lucas fucked three times last night. But then you remembered that you and Jihoon had agreed to keep it casual. Casual.

However, as soon as you walked through the door of Jihoon’s place later that day, you felt sick to your stomach. Nerves hit you when you saw the fancy dinner on his table, candles and all. He clearly didn’t want casual anymore. And sure enough, after dinner, once the two of you had retired to the couch to watch a movie, he asked you to be his girlfriend. For the two of you to be exclusive.

You stammered out a sure, which should have actually been a no, but you panicked. Jihoon was really, really nice, and you didn’t want to hurt his feelings. More to the point, you were completely caught off guard and felt incredibly guilty since you were planning on breaking up with him.

Immediately after you agreed, Jihoon pulled you in for a kiss, pushing you onto your back, and made love to you right there on the couch.

You wondered if he could smell Lucas on you.

--

You told Lucas the next day. A silence hung over you as you waited for Lucas to respond. You didn’t know what to make of the situation because you certainly didn’t want to stop seeing Lucas.

“Do you love him?” Lucas asked, avoiding your gaze.

“No. I don’t know. Maybe?”

He nodded, swallowing thickly. “I guess we… have to stop then.” Tears pricked your eyes at this, but you reluctantly agreed.

An hour later, Lucas had you on your hands and knees, ass up in the air as he fucked you roughly. His hand was tangled in your hair as he held you down, draping himself over your back. He tugged at your ear with his teeth, nipping and licking at the skin.

“Bet he doesn’t fuck you like this, does he? No one can fuck you like I can,” he growled almost absentmindedly. As if it was a private thought that neither of you would talk about later. You sobbed into the sheets, mascara running down your face with your tears. You were glad you could attribute the tears to the ecstasy of sex, rather than the aching pain in your heart.

--

Later the next day, you and Lucas got drunk at your place. You figured it was a way for the both of you to cope with the situation at hand. Sat on your couch, legs curled up under you, you faced Lucas who looked fucked up. He was grinning at you, hair falling into his eyes. You flushed under his gaze which never seemed to let up.

He reached out to you, stroked your cheek with the back of his hand. His thumb traced your lips, tugging the bottom one gently. “You’re so beautiful,” he said. He sounded so genuine you almost cried. Giving you a pained smile, he cupped your cheek. His touch was so gentle and you felt a stabbing pain in your heart. “He better treat you well. It’s what you deserve.” Closing your eyes, you placed a hand over his and leaned into his palmed. What he said next made your heart skip, in part because it was said under his breath, like he hadn’t wanted you to hear.

“I just wish it was me.”

--

You and Lucas continued that way for a couple weeks; fucking any chance you got. You still hung out, too, but there was an awkwardness to it, neither of you knowing what to say or do. Not knowing what emotions were off limits. So, you generally just stuck to sex.

Every time you would fuck, one of you would say you shouldn’t do this anymore, that it was wrong. But these words never stopped you. They were often said between heated kisses, and at that point, there was no going back.

You also noticed that Lucas fucked you especially hard whenever you mentioned Jihoon, like he was trying to make a point. On one occasion, after you told Lucas that you and Jihoon had cooked dinner together at your place, he fucked you right on the counter, letting your come mixed with his leak out of you and drip on to the cold surface.

It was toxic, you knew it. And you wanted to break up with Jihoon, you just didn’t know how. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt him, but you knew you already were.

At one point, when you were with Lucas, you happened to mention Jihoon again in passing and Lucas snapped.

“Please! Please just- just stop,” his voice trailed off at the end of his sentence. He braced himself on your kitchen counter, head hanging between his shoulders. You got off your chair and stood next to  him, hand on his back. “I don’t want to hear about you and him. Please.”

“Lucas-” you started but stopped when he whipped around, his eyes brimming with tears. He held your face in his hands, a few tears trickling down his cheek. His thumbs stroked your cheeks, a pained look on his face. You held his wrist, trying to sooth him.

Knocking your foreheads together, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “You could leave him, you know,” he said quietly, “and come back to me.”

“Lucas-” you tried again, but he cut you off again, shaking his head with a tortured expression on his face.

“Be with me. Please. I lo- you know I care about you. And I know you care about me.” He went to kiss you, but he stopped himself. “Be mine again.” It was barely a whisper and you weren’t even sure you heard him right.

Your voice caught in your throat, thick with emotion, wanting to tell him that yes, you want to be with him. You wanted to break up with Jihoon and be with Lucas. That’s all you wanted. But Lucas spoke again before you had the chance. Knowing Lucas, you felt this was because he wasn’t ready to hear rejection. Even though that’s what you weren’t going say.

He composed himself, letting go of your face and wiping away his tears. “Just… just think about it, okay?” He left you there in the kitchen, and you watched the door of your apartment shut behind him.

--

It wasn’t easy, breaking up with Jihoon. He really was incredibly nice and maybe if you hadn’t been in love with Lucas, you would have stayed.

Jihoon was great, he understood that you weren’t feeling it. He cried, as you expected, and you comforted him, feeling guilty. He didn’t deserve this. Lucas didn’t deserve the pain you put him through either.

You left Jihoon’s place on good terms with him, which was more than you expected, and headed down the street, one place on your mind.

--

You knocked on Lucas’ door and he opened it, looking dejected, but livening up when he saw you. Before he could say anything, you asked, “any of your roommates home?”

He shook his head. “No, they just left-” Before he could finish, you pulled him into a tight embrace, crashing your lips together. His large hands moved to your back, holding you close.

“I want to be with you. Just you. I don’t want anybody else.”

He smiled and laughed breathlessly. It tugged at your heartstrings and you kissed him again before you cried. He slammed the door behind you, hiking your legs up around his waist, and carried you to his room.

Dropping you on his bed, he gave you a goofy smile. You reached to unbutton his shirt when he stopped you. “Before we… I just want you to know that I love you. It’s not just about sex for me. I really love you. And I want you. Forever.”

“I want that too,” you said. “I love you too, Lucas.” That was all he wanted to hear and he joined your lips together again, ecstatic.

Clothes were quickly removed and discarded around his room until the two of you were completely naked. You stared at each other for a few moments, gazing upon each other in a new light. When Lucas touched you, it was gentle, almost careful, his large palms skimming across the bare skin of your legs. He planted a kiss on the inside of your thigh. He continued his way up your thigh, across your stomach and your chest, and up your neck until he reached your lips.

Hands explored bodies, committing each and every curve and angle to memory. Each touch was gentle and you felt no hurry to rush the moment along. It was perfect and you never wanted it to end.

By the time Lucas had pushed himself inside you, you felt delirious with emotion. Ecstasy and an intimacy you had never felt before, and you had never felt more secure and at peace. Everything was right.

He braced himself on either side of your head, your foreheads touching as he rolling his hips against you. Lucas kissed you all over your face, your neck, leaving no spot untouched. You held onto his forearms as he thrusted in and out of you, looking into his deep brown eyes.

It wasn’t long before you reached your climax and Lucas’s hands slipped into yours, squeezing tightly, reassuring you. You came with a sob, crying into Lucas’ neck. He followed soon after, spilling into you.

You wrapped your arms around his back as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, panting. Reaching around, you held his face in your hands, brushing your lips together. “Mine,” you said. Lucas smiled.

“Yours. “

[aziraamane]

Human AU - Part 4

(Previous) - (First)

"Anthony Jophiel "AJ" Crowley (born 12 October 1979) is an English physicist, socialite, and philanthropist, formerly serving as a professor of Physics and Astronomy at the University of Manchester. He is the youngest of media mogul Beatrice "Bee" Crowley's five children…"

Ezra didn't mean to snoop, but, well, the information was right there on the Internet, and surely it was the done thing to know a bit about the person whose home you were visiting, yes? Or that was what he kept telling himself, as he skipped to the bottom of the page to the section entitled "Personal Life."

"Crowley seldom interacts directly with the media and has confessed that he can be shy. He identifies as humanist and denies claims of atheism, stating that he would rather “listen and analyse.” In a rare television appearance on the American late-night talk show Conan in 2013, Crowley admitted to foiling the media’s attempts to take newsworthy photos of him, by wearing similar clothing every day and never taking off his sunglasses, a stunt later emulated by actor Daniel Radcliffe in 2017. 

Crowley has no children of his own and has never married. He adopted his nephew, Adam, in 2018. They currently live in Mayfair.”

"Dad! Are you ready?"

Ezra clicked off the tab open on his computer screen before shutting the machine down. "Yes, darling, I'm ready," he called back into the flat at large, getting to his feet with the slight groan and creak of a body beginning to feel its age. 

Well, well. It seemed that Ezra had vastly underestimated his schoolyard acquaintance. Not just a pretty face, as the saying went. There was a clever brain and a big heart behind the black clothes and dark glasses. 

Ezra and Warlock lived above an old bookshop in Soho, neighbouring Mayfair, so it was a simple case of one bus and then a short walk to the address sitting in Ezra's message inbox. He had to get Warlock to help with the whole GPS navigation thingy on his phone, but without too much trouble, they soon found themselves standing in front of a high-rise block of flats that Ezra knew, just from the exterior, had to be wildly expensive. He held Warlock's hand firmly, and pressed the intercom button beside the door with his free hand. 

The speaker crackled a moment. "Hello?" came a young voice. 

Ezra's cheeks plumped in an affectionate smile. "Hello, Adam, dear boy. I've brought Warlock to see you."

"I'll be down in a minute! Hang on!" A burst of static, and then silence.

Barely thirty seconds later, Adam came flying down the hallway and almost slammed head first into the glass doors. "Whoops," he laughed as he opened the doors. "That was a bit silly. Hello!"

"Adam!" Warlock crowed, jumping up and down. 

"Are you our guide, dear?" asked Ezra.

"I think so. Come on, but the lift is broken, so we have to take the stairs, but it isn't very high up! Come with me!”

“Not very high up” meant the sixth floor in Adam's language, by which time Ezra was wheezing slightly, thighs and ankles aching. Not for the first time, he wondered if he ought to lose some weight. 

But then Adam opened the front door, and Ezra lost his breath for an entirely different reason.

Crowley's flat was magnificent, all carved marble and polished granite, very minimalist and yet utterly stylish. There was a hint of nature in the air, rich soil and woody sap, alongside the freshness of cleaning products and notes of smoky cologne. From somewhere in the flat, Freddie Mercury's soulful warble sang Let me Live.

"Uncle AJ!" Adam yelled. 

The music dropped in volume, followed by a series of dull and then metallic taps. And then there was Crowley, dressed down in a loose vest and ripped jeans, dirt under his fingernails, a smudge on his cheek...

And no glasses.

"Hello, Anthony!"

Crowley blinked once, twice, then went pale. "Shit - um, just a sec." He disappeared a moment, returning with sunglasses back in place. 

There had been something there, something not quite normal...Ezra couldn’t put his finger on it, and decided it was best to say nothing. Crowley scratched the back of his head, sheepish. "Sorry. Knew you were coming, just lost track of time - should I change? I should probably change. Um-"

Ezra shook his head, laughing. "Anthony, dear chap, this is your home, you needn't dress up just so the boys can have a playdate."

Warlock waved from beside Ezra. "Hi, Mr Crowley."

"Hey, kid. Find the place alright?"

"Think we did."

"Great, good stuff. Adam, why don't you take Warlock to your room, show him your toys and such?"

"Alright." Adam took Warlock's hand and they ambled off into the flat. 

"Take your shoes off, Warlock!" Ezra called after them.

Crowley shook his head. "S'alright, I'm not fussy about that sort of stuff. Here, just...chuck your coat anywhere, I'll wash my hands and get us a drink."

Ezra frowned. "Am I staying?"

"Ngk - er - I mean, if you want?" Crowley practically squirmed on the spot. "Or I can drop Warlock off later. S'up to you."

"I don't want to intrude-"

"You're not. Honestly."

"In that case, yes, I shall stay." Ezra began unbuttoning his tan overcoat. There were a few empty pegs by the door; he hung it on the nearest one.

Crowley grinned. "That's my man. Alright, follow me."

The entryway led to a kitchen on the right hand side, plus an adjoining dining room and lounge. Crowley strolled over to the sink to rinse the dirt from his hands while Ezra primly seated himself at the island in the centre of the room. "You look as though you've been gardening," he remarked, tracing a finger absently over the polished granite counter top. 

"Er, yeah. Something like that." Crowley turned to face him, picking out the last of the dirt from under his nails. "Got a few plants in the back, 's a hobby of mine."

Ezra blinked in surprise. Of all the things he expected of Crowley, gardening wasn't on the list. "You're quite the decorated gentleman, Anthony.”

“Mm?”

“Oh, yes. Botanist, scientist, philanthropist - is there anything you can't do?"

Crowley paused with his hand halfway to the kettle. "Ezra," he said in a low voice, "have you been reading my fucking Wikipedia page?"

Oh, bugger. 

After a moment, Crowley burst out laughing, and what a sweet, merry laugh it was. "I'm just messing with you," he said as he filled the kettle. "S human instinct, isn't it, to hunger for knowledge, want answers. Can't say I blame you for looking. I'd have done the same, if it were my kid going to some fancy schmuck's house. Tea or coffee?"

"Tea, please." Ezra found himself relaxing infinitely. That laugh had done wonders for his nerves.

"Sugar?"

"Just milk will be fine."

"Gotcha." Crowley brought two cups over, setting one in front of Ezra. "So…" He sat on a vacant stool, drawing up one long leg to rest his heel on the edge. "Librarian, right? Which uni?"

"King's." 

"Chancery Lane?" 

"Yes, as a matter of fact." Ezra wrapped his hands around the steaming mug and sighed at the heat seeping into his palms. "I suppose I just live to be surrounded by books. Tried my hand in the bookshop below me when I was younger, you see, but it hurt me so much to sell the poor things, I just couldn't do it."

"And now you lend them out to students. Late fees, tea rings, dog-eared pages, drunken frat boys, the lot." Crowley laughed again. "Couldn't sell a book...that is the dumbest thing I've ever heard. I love it!"

Ezra smiled politely, a blush on his cheeks. It sounded like a compliment, but he couldn't quite be sure. "You're looking better today," he said quietly. 

"Practically overdosed on Benadryl last night. Reckon I was high as a kite using that bloody headset."

"Was that wise?"

"Still alive, aren't I?"

Ezra tittered as he sipped his tea. "You high-fliers, always living in the fast lane."

"Is that admonishment I hear, angel?"

Blue eyes blinked rapidly over the top of the mug obscuring the lower half of Ezra's face. Angel? 

He shook the thought from his mind quickly. It wasn't too different from his usual affectionate “dears” and “darlings.” "I'm hardly in a position to scold you, dear fellow," he replied, and Crowley chuckled as he sipped from his own mug.

"Staying for lunch, Ezra? You a fussy eater at all?"

"Do I look like a fussy eater, dear?" Ezra patted his plump belly. The movement prompted Crowley’s eyes, jewel-bright behind his sunglasses, to follow, a gentle smile tugging at his lips, possibly the first true, relaxed smile that Ezra had seen.

"Oh, I think you and I are gonna get along just fine, angel."

[the-fiction-witch]

Yes Mummy,

REAL LIFE: COUPLE: IHW X READER RATING: SMUTTY AF (MUMMY KINK)

Warnings: terribly SMUTTY mummy kink! Now for disclosure! I don't quite know how a mummy kink works like I know how daddy kinks work but like the serious like daddy baby girl kinda thing so this is gonna be quiet out there (Case you didn't know what that is? You know how like some girls call there bfs daddy, yeah this is effective the gender swap on that, so here we go!)

"Isaac" I call as I wandered into his room he was still in bed his head buried on his pillow his brown hair a shaggy mess, his body pale and soft in the place it stuck out from his dark blue duvet covers, his glasses sat on his side table under his lamp and next to his phone, his arm hung out the bed from where he obviously checked the time in the night and never actually got completely back in bed I smiled going over and putting a cup of tea on his table beside his glasses and giving his head a kiss making him sturr in his sleep a smile creeping into his lips "Isaac wakey, wakey" I smile lightly shaking his shoulder "Ummm five more minutes" he complains trying to turn over "No, now" I tell him Pulling the duvet away from him exposing his soft skin and his black and blue tight boxers shorts with his morning wood stretching the fabric a lot, he just groaned and buried his face in his pillow so I laughed going over and opening his curtains letting the Bright sunlight flood in "Uhhhhh! Y/n...let me sleep" he complains "No, come on" I laugh sitting on his bed as he sat up rubbing his eyes and putting his glasses on checking his phone and having a sip of tea "Thank you for the tea dearest," he says giving my cheek a kiss "ummm I'm so tired" he complains "You Should have gotten to sleep earlier," I tell him "rather than staying up till half past midnight playing that game," I tell him "I know" he sighs resting his head on my shoulder "How did you sleep?" I ask "Fine, just wish I could have had more of it" be complains "good morning" he smiles kissing down my neck and down between my breasts making out with my chest his head nuzzled between my breasts where they hung from my nightie "Why do you always say hello to them First?" I laugh "They draw my attention, first thing in the morning" he smirked so I pushed him out of my cleavage and went to get dressed in my room, me and Isaac have been roommates since we started uni almost everyone else has moved out now in with partners, me and Isaac are a couple but since we only have single beds we sleep in our own rooms still.

I sighed looking for something to watch on TV "Hey" Isaac smiled dumping himself beside me on our cheap sofa "what are we watching?" He asks "No idea yet" I shrug "why something on you wanted to watch?" I ask "Nope, just wanted a cuddle" he smiles resting his head on me so I laughed petting his soft hair for a while till we found some old movie on so we sat watching for a while a blanket now wrapped up around us as we cuddled I smirked as I felt Isaac press little kisses down my neck and chest and he kept going putting his head in my lap I giggled a little readjusting my hips to make sure I and he where comfy in this new position his head nuzzled into my lap "Comfy?" I ask after a while and he nods sweetly and just in that quiet he spoke "Yes mummy" he blushes and I smiled slyly stroking his soft brown hair a moment letting him nuzzle into my strokes and I chuckled "Does somebody want to play baby boy tonight?" I ask "Yes please mummy" he blushed turning to face me I smiled holding his waist or well where his waist would be if he wasn't so dam skinny he smiled going along with me so he sat on my lap "pretty please mummy? Can we play tonight?" He smiled "Alright" I smile "go on little boy, upstairs to bed mummy will come play in a minute" I tell him he smiled licking his bottom lip excited giving my lips a gentle kiss and going to to his room I waited a little while before heading up to my room changing into my little dress and going over to Isaacs room when I got there he was sat in bed with his PJ's on hugging his teddy bear "awww what a big boy getting into bed all by himself" I smirk sorting his room for him "phone away?" I ask and he nods "good boy" I smile giving his head a kiss "now? What else does my little boy need before he goes to bed?" I ask slyly tapping his nose "Ummmm I need my orgasm mummy" he smirked "Ohh do you? Didn't you have one yesterday?" I ask "No... I didn't" he complains "pretty pretty please, I've been ever so good" he smiles "Well... As you have been a very good boy so far tonight" I smile sitting on his bed and slipping my hand into his pants and grabbing the shaft of his cock "Uhhhh... Ummmmm" he moans holding onto his big teddy bear extra tight grinding himself against my hand "uhhh uhhh uuuhh" he moans loudly "Ah ah ah too nosiy little boy" I warn slowing my hand "Ummm I'll be good mummy" he complains "One moment Isaac darling," I smile kissing his cheek and getting up giving his shaft a squeeze as I did going to my room getting a couple things from my box of toys and returning to his room when I did I noticed he had wrapped his legs around his plushie near and was grinding his bonner on it almost humping the innocent bear as he grew more desperate waiting for me I smiled putting my things down and taking his bear away "ah ah ah Isaac, you can have him back when you behave" I warn him putting the best with the other stuff "naughty boy" I told him tapping his nose "I didn't mean to...you where taking so long, I couldn't wait" he groans "Over know" I tell him as I sat on his bed he blushed and smiled bending over my knee I smirked slapping his arse cheek with my hand I felt him flinch his cock getting harder pressing against my leg as I spanked him "Uhhh uhhhh uuuhh" he moans as I spanked harder getting into a rythum with his harsh breaths and gagged moans "Humm? Naughty naughty boy" I tell him pulling down his pj pants and slapping his bare arse "Uhhhhh! Yes!" He moans "I've been naughty...I've been a bad bay boy" he moans I smirked getting a little toy of ours and spanking him with the harsh wood "UUUHHH uhhhhhhh," he moans "You've been a very bad boy Isaac," I smirk "who's been a bad bad little boy?" I ask "Ummmm I have, I've been a bad baby boy, a bad little boy that needs his mummy... desperately" he begs "Humm well alright" I smile getting some rope and tieing his hands behind his back making him stand infront of me I bit my lip looking at him his fluffy hair a mess, his face in that mess of pleasure and desperation, his eyes closed and his glasses asche, his little pj shirt rolled up to his elbows on the sleves and sticking alittle to his skinny body, his arms tied behind him helplessly, his pj pants on the floor around his ankles, his hard cock standing tall sometimes moving up and down in his pleasure filled state, I smirked looking at him this way I thought he looked adorable so cute and helpless waiting for his mummy to give him the pleasure he was so desperate for "come on out of them, Don't want dirty boys dirtying there nice clean PJ's" I smirk grabbing his arse and pulling him closer he blushed stepping out his pants "good boy" I smirk pushing him down on his bed and getting up starting to strip my dress off "ah ah ah what do you do Isaac?" I ask "Ummm I speed my legs for my mummy" he groans opening them wide for me rolling his head on his pillow already as I lety dress drop and climb on his lap "ummm mummy looks ever so beautiful" he smiles "Isaac, you should know by now, flattery doesn't get you anything" I smirk kissing his soft lips he happily kissed back softly I smiled feeling him grinding on me a little "humm is my little boy getting desperate?" I ask stroking his cheek and he nods "Please, your little boy needs attention" he begs "please mummy, I need it so badly please... your little boy need to be inside you" he moans "I'm begging you," he begs "What's the magic words Isaac?" I ask sweetly kissing down his neck "Ummm..." He moans "pwtty pwtty please baby boy need his mummy" he pleads childishly I smirked grinding back in him gently "ummmmm please! Please  please! I'm desperate, I'll be good I promise" he begs "Good boy" I smirk...

I yawned as I began making coffee letting the kettle boil getting the milk from the fridge "good morning" Isaac smiled making me jump "Ah! Not like you to be up so early" I laugh continuing with the coffee "Humm," he mumbled cuddling me closely and kissing my head "is it weird?" He asks "You being awake in the morning? Yes very" I laugh "Not that" he laughs "The what?" I ask "Playing baby boy?" He asks "No... Everyone has there kinks Isaac, your just happens to involve allot of baby talk and sometimes a pacifier" I shrug having my coffee and starting on Isaac's tea "Do you think it's weird though? Honestly?" He asks "It can be odd I guess, but most people don't batt an eye when a girl calls her boyfriend daddy why should anyone think twice about you calling me mummy, it's no worse then those couples who take the daddy Princess thing to far" I explain "You like playing baby boy Isaac nothings wrong with that" I laugh "besides, I think you always look soo so cute!" I giggled cuddling him tightly "something oddly adorable about you such a sweet baby boy being all tied up and restrained, looking so cute and innocent while asking for the dirtiest of things to be done to him" I smirk "same mix of cute and sexy you get with anime girls" I giggled "did baby boy want his teddy bear back now?" I giggled "No, can't I just grind my morning wood off on my mummy?" He begs "Alright" I giggled "but mummy has work to do" I tell him picking up the little pacifier from the table "so quiet Isaac" I tell him

p2?

[raywritesthings]

An Unearthly Temp

My Writing Fandom: Doctor Who Characters: Donna Noble, Tenth Doctor, Jenny, Wilfred Mott Pairing: Doctor/Donna Summary: An old man and his granddaughter briefly settle on Earth after traveling through space and time, only to run into trouble with a couple humans from the local school. A story everyone has heard. But in another universe, things are slightly different. AO3 link

Jenny Smith arrived for university in her dad’s car the same as any day. She knew that wasn’t entirely usual, but neither was going to the same university that a parent worked at, so she’d given up on fitting in right out of the gate.

She’d thought about going away, but she’d worried. Her poor dad would lose his head if it wasn’t attached. It wasn’t as if she was going into his department, either, so he couldn’t hover too much.

And it had always been the two of them against the world. Jenny has never quite gotten the hang of making friends; she was too tough for the girls and too girly for the boys, apparently. Her dad blames himself, as he wasn’t exactly the most normal bloke in the world. He could talk a person’s ear off, but he couldn’t quite seem to hang onto people once they’d passed out of his day-to-day life.

At any rate, they had each other, and that had always been enough. Jenny didn’t know it, though, but that was all about to change.

She entered the main office ahead of her dad, planning to drop off her heavier books for her afternoon class in his office for safe-keeping. The same as any day.

Then she looked up and spotted a new woman at the secretary’s desk for her dad’s department. “Oh, hello!” The woman had red hair and wore a bright purple cardigan.

She looked up with a start as well and stood with her hand held out. “Professor Smith! Brilliant to meet you!”

“Er, no. Sorry, I’m just his daughter.”

“I would be Professor Smith,” her dad said, extending his hand.

The woman took it and pumped it up and down. “Oh, sorry! Of course you are. Yeah, you’re the picture of professor, aren’t you? All skinny legs, suit and tie. Do they not have a meal plan for the faculty?”

Her dad looked down at himself, seeming unsure how to respond. “Um.”

“Donna, Donna Noble, that’s me,” the woman added. “They’ve sent me over to sit at the desk here. The temp, that’s what they called it.”

“Oh, that’s right! They did say there’d be someone new this week. Well, good to meet you. This is Jenny, my daughter. She’s a student here, too, so she’ll be in and out a lot.”

She turned to Jenny with a smile. “You go to school with your dad? That’s so sweet! I’m keeping house with my grandad, myself. He likes to get around, so we’ve been all over the uni — um, the universities. Around the world,” Miss Noble said, twirling her finger around in a circle.

“A traveler! Well, that’s brilliant. I’ve always been meaning to go more places,” her dad admitted.

Jenny felt a pang of regret; there’d been plenty of research trip offers, grants and the like, but he’d turned them all down not wanting to disrupt her childhood. Jenny wouldn’t have minded, but he’d been firm about wanting her to have as normal a life as possible, even with only the one parent.

“And how long will you be with us?” Her dad was asking.

“I don’t really know. I hope it’s long. I’ve been liking it a lot here, so far.”

“Well, I hope you continue to.” Her Dad was grinning ear to ear, and it seemed to Jenny that he rather liked this Miss Noble. Unfortunately, a glance at her watch showed the time was getting a bit late.

“Dad, can you unlock your office for me?”

“Oh, right. Yeah, got to be getting on.” He nodded and stepped back from the desk, walking backwards as he continued,

“Well, I’m sure we’ll be getting to know each other as it goes along, Miss Noble.”

“I’m sure. Oh, Professor Smith!”

Jenny just managed to snag his elbow to keep him from crashing into his own door.

“Ah, right,” her dad said with an awkward laugh. He gave Miss Noble a cheery wave and unlocked his door. Jenny stepped in, set her books down, and kissed her dad on the cheek goodbye before heading out.

“Have a good day,” she told Miss Noble as she passed the desk.

“You too, sweetheart.”

She was nice, if a little odd. A rather perfect match to her dad, really.

God, she hoped he didn’t screw this up.

—-

Over the next couple weeks, John found himself spending more and more time with Miss Noble. She showed him some of her souvenir collection — “I always try to stop in a little shop or something wherever we go, just to have something to remember it by.” “That’s brilliant. I love a little shop.” — and didn’t mind his idle chatter. She could chatter back near twice as fast, as a matter of fact.

She was perfectly sweet and polite, except when she wasn’t. One morning he came out of his office when he heard a raised voice and found her shouting down the phone.

“And that goes double for your mother!” Miss Noble hung up and pushed her bangs back, catching sight of him in the corner of her eye. “Oh! Professor Smith! I’m so sorry, but they’re saying the copier’s still broken.”

“Ah, well, the copiers are notoriously difficult,” he replied. “We’ll get on without it.”

He wondered sometimes if that rougher way she had was some of her true self poking through the mask of professionalism. John rather loved it. Having raised Jenny all on his own as well as having countless student charges, he’d always felt the need to be a model citizen. It was refreshing to see someone who could be so unrestrained.

“So what is it that you teach?” She asked one day out of the blue.

He blinked. “You didn’t ask what department you were in when you got the job?”

“It all sort of happened rather fast,” she said.

“Well, I teach history.”

“History,” she repeated.

“Yep,” he said, popping the p on the end. “I know it’s not one of the more exciting subjects. Or considered all that useful outside academia—”

Miss Noble shook her head. “History’s brilliant. My Gramps says the only thing humans never learn is their own history. There’s always been history. I mean, if you think about it, we’re living history right now.”

“That’s what I’m always telling the students.” John grinned and leaned both elbows on her desk. He fancied himself rather in love with this woman. “History’s what you make of it.”

Miss Noble hummed in agreement, then was quiet for a time. It looked as though she was deciding whether or not to say something.

“I’ve been interested in seeing them. Lessons.”

He straightened up slightly. “What, you’ve never been?”

Miss Noble shook her head. “I’ve been moving around a lot. Never really had the time to just settle in somewhere.”

“Well, that won’t do at all,” John said. “Look, you can come by one of my classes. Sit in the back, see how you like it.”

“You’re sure? I don’t want to be a bother to the kids.”

“You wouldn’t be in the least. Really, I insist. It’s never too late to learn.”

She bit her lip as she thought it over. John tried not to watch her worry it with her teeth. But then she smiled so dazzlingly bright John had to blink to clear his head.

“Then I’d love to! Oh, this is brilliant!”

He laughed with her, a bit giddy at having made her so happy.

Miss Noble showed up the next day five minutes before his last class and went straight to a seat in the back. Unless he was mistaken, she was practically bouncing in her seat as the lecture hall slowly filled with students.

He’d prepared a good one on the off chance she had decided to sit in today, and so he started class promptly, wanting to get as much in as possible. Things were moving along nicely the first twenty-odd minutes, but that’s where it started to get strange.

“Now, no one knows for certain what became of—”

There was a cackling laugh near the back of the hall. He turned around.

It was Miss Noble, who stopped abruptly. “Oh, sorry.”

“Something wrong, Miss Noble?”

“No, nothing,” she said, one hand held up in front of her as though swearing an oath. “You carry right on.”

He cleared his throat. “Right. So, as I was saying, no one knows what became of these early settlers. There are a few prevailing theories.”

There came an odd muffled sound, like a giggle behind pressed lips. Sure enough, Miss Noble appeared to be hiding another strange bout of mirth.

John could feel the tips of his ears burning, and it only got worse as a handful of students began chancing glances back at Miss Noble and then murmuring to each other. Continuing the lecture seemed a valiant effort on his part after that, though he wondered if any of it got through to anyone. At the least, he was grateful for the ringing of the bell that signified the end of their time.

He packed up his things, only looking up when he was sure everyone else had gone.

Except Miss Noble was standing there, watching him. She had a big smile on her face. “That was lovely!”

“Really? It didn’t seem to impress you much.”

“No, you were brilliant, honest. It’s not your fault. I mean, from a twenty-first century perspective you’ve got it spot on—”

“Sorry?”

Her mouth snapped shut and she stared at him with wide eyes for a moment. “Um. Forget that! Don’t know what I’m saying half the time. It’s just nonsense what comes out of my mouth, really don’t even listen to it.”

“But I do. I want to. I mean—” John stopped and cleared his throat. “I like spending time with you. Even if I don’t understand half of the things you come up with. And I’d like to spend more time with you outside of the University, if that’s alright with you.

“Oh, John,” she sighed, and it sounded like music. Her eyes were welling up and the smile on her lips was a sad one. “I’d love that. Really, I would. But I- I can’t.”

His hopes plummeted. “Was that not on? I wouldn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I just thought—”

“No, no, it’s not you, really. It’s- it’s me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That wouldn’t just be straight from a film, would it?”

“They’re very helpful,” she defended. “Especially with slang and the like, but- but that’s not the point. The point is I’m not the right woman for you.”

“Don’t I have a say in who the right woman for me is?”

“Course you do, but you don’t know me, John.”

“That’s sort of the point of asking you out. I’d like to know you.” Somehow she still could amuse him even when he wanted nothing more to curl up in a ball and cry.

“I can’t. Please don’t ask again.”

“Sorry.”

“Oh, don’t apologize. Not your fault,” she repeated. “I should, um, I should go.”

He had no idea what to say, and merely watched as she walked from the lecture hall. John shouldered his bag and trudged back to his office.

Jenny was waiting in the visitor’s chair in front of his desk when he got back.

John heaved a sigh, glad he hadn’t mentioned his plans to his daughter before having them shot down. “Ready to go?”

They’d been running late that morning and all the spots in the lot had been taken, so he’d had to park a few streets away. He led the way down Totters Lane, Jenny’s bag slung over one shoulder and his rucksack over the other. He’d been in the habit of carrying her things ever since she was little and continued to cling stubbornly to it despite her protests of not being a kid anymore.

“So, how was your day?”

“Fine. You?”

“Oh, just fine,” he said. He didn’t think he was quite ready to talk about his recent rejection and hoped Jenny wouldn’t push if she detected his low mood.

“Hey dad, isn’t that Miss Noble?”

“Don’t point,” he chided gently, even as his eyes followed in the direction she’d indicated. It was indeed Miss Noble across the street, hard to miss with that brilliant hair swaying side to side with her purposeful stride. Although, as that stride carried her straight up to a wooden gate which read I.M. Noble, Scrap Merchant, he had to wonder just what she was doing going to a place like that. She glanced to her right and left before pushing the door open and slipping inside.

“What on Earth? Wait here, Jenny.”

“No way, I’m coming with you.”

They looked both ways before darting across the lane and slipping in through the gate the way Miss Noble had only just done.

He just caught sight of her disappearing through the door of some old box, one of the ones the police used to use by the sign on it. They’d all been decommissioned by the time he’d been born, dumped in junkyards like this one.

“What’s she doing?” Jenny asked.

“I’ve no idea,” said John. He walked up to the box. “Miss Noble? Is everything alright?”

There was no answer, but she had to have heard him. The wood wasn’t that thick. But when he tried the door, it wouldn’t budge.

“Miss Noble!”

“Hey now, what’s all the racket?”

Jenny yelped and he whirled around at the unexpected voice. An old man stood behind them, short with a bit of scruff. He had a checkered shirt and jumper on along with a red woolen cap despite the evening being quite warm.

“Er, sorry. Are you I. M. Noble? We don’t mean to trespass,” said John. “Have you got a key to this?”

“You can’t go in there. That’s my box.”

John was brushed aside as the man placed himself in front of it. “Right, sorry. It’s just a friend — well, a colleague of sorts — we saw her go in just now.”

“A woman?” The man gave a nervous chuckle. “No, no you’re mistaken. There’s no woman here.”

“But we saw her!” Jenny protested.

“Listen, you’ve got to leave it, alright?” The old man requested, wringing his hands together.

“No, I don’t think we will,” said John, frowning at the suspicious turn events had taken. “Now stand aside so we can make sure Miss Noble’s alright, or I’ll have a real officer down here to speak with you.”

“Go and get an officer if you like. They won’t find nothing.”

There was a clicking noise and the door opened a crack.

“Gramps, are you out there?”

“Donna—”

“Miss Noble!” Jenny darted under his arm and through the door, which banged fully open to bathe John and the old man in a brilliant light.

“What…?”

“Oh, Donna, sweetheart, now you’ve gone and done it!”

“Jenny? John?”

Miss Noble stood framed in the doorway which led into a room. An impossible room.

It seemed to stretch farther back and to the sides than the box that contained it. He circled round the outside once just to be certain. Jenny had disappeared from the view through the doorway, so he hurried in and found her standing on the other side of some strange machine with buttons, dials, and levers all around it.

“How- how’s this possible? I mean it’s—”

“—bigger on the inside,” Jenny finished for him when he couldn’t find the words.

“Yeah, we’ve noticed,” Miss Noble observed. She heaved a sigh. “Okay, look, so I wasn’t entirely honest when I told you both about myself.”

They both looked to her. Miss Noble was looking at her grandfather, who shook his head. But she continued nonetheless.

“We are travelers. But we’re from the future.”

“What?”

“And a different planet,” she added.

“What?” John repeated.

“You’re aliens?” Asked Jenny.

“Yeah,” said Miss Noble. “Yeah, we are.”

“You shouldn’t be telling them this,” the old man scolded. “They’re not meant to know about other species yet. What’d you let them follow you for?”

“I didn’t know they were following me, did I? Look, who’s gonna believe them — no offense,” she said, turning to them again. “But you know people would say you’re mad if you told them what you’ve seen.”

“I’m not sure I’m not mad,” John murmured, looking around at the wide, mostly white room. There were little round things on the the walls. He had no idea what they did.

“No, no. This won’t do at all.” The old man walked up to the machine. He pressed a button, and the doors snapped shut.

“What are you doing?” Miss Noble asked, a note of warning in her voice.

“Well, we can’t leave them here, with what they’ve seen!”

“Gramps, just let them out. They’ll promise not to tell, right?” She directed the last word at them, a pleading look in her eyes.

“It doesn’t matter what they promise. The High Council’s got its ways, and they’re looking for us.” The old man wagged a finger at her. “I promised I’d keep you safe, so that’s the way it’s got to be.”

He reached for a lever.

Miss Noble started forward. “Gramps, no!”

Too late, the old man flipped it down. The whole room shuddered for a moment, and both John and Jenny reached to grab onto something as an engine seemed to hum to life. A central column of the mechanism pulsed up and down as the strangest grinding, wheezing noise filled their ears.

Something was happening to the box. He got the strangest sense that they were moving somehow. John and Jenny went down to the doors and found them locked. He raced back up to the old man.

“Mr. Noble—”

“Doctor, it’s Doctor,” the old man said.

“Doctor Noble—”

“Noble, ha!”

It occurred to John that the Noble name his department’s temporary secretary had given them was possibly entirely an alias, copped off a junkyard sign no less. Did aliens have last names?

“Doctor, then. Just what have you done? Where are you taking us?”

This Doctor refused to answer. John looked to Miss — Donna, just Donna — instead, who had a hand over her mouth and was refusing to face her grandfather.

“Anywhere. Anywhen. He can’t control it.”

“I’m learning,” the old man stubbornly insisted.

“Well learn faster and take them home!”

“Are we in space?” Jenny asked, sounding both fascinated and terrified at once.

“No, it’s the, uh, the time Vortex,” the Doctor answered. “But we might end up in space.”

“Might? Might?” John could hear his voice getting higher with each word. “You’re meaning to tell me you’ve just kidnapped me and my daughter and we might be going to space?”

“Well, it could be Earth. Just not your time.”

The back of his legs hit a chair as he staggered back, and he sat down hard.

“Dad!” Jenny hurried over, but it was Donna who got to him first.

She crouched down, placing a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry about this.” Her eyes were swimming with tears. This was why she’d turned him down, he realized, so he wouldn’t get mixed up in all this. But to think all this was her life!

Her grandfather kept looking over his shoulder, quick, guilty looks. There was a sudden thud which forced the Doctor to hurriedly check all the controls.

“We’ve, uh, we’ve landed.” The old man looked at all their miserable faces and wrung his hands again. “Look, you’ve got to understand. I’ve got my family to look after, too. I’d have just made you forget if I were any good at it—”

“Made us?” Jenny repeated.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, sweetheart,” the Doctor assured her. “I barely passed that bit in school. I’d never just try it out on a human.”

John looked from him to Donna. They didn’t seem like malicious alien invaders. Nonetheless they’d taken him and Jenny from their home, their planet even. But what was this mysterious High Council that had the Doctor so worried for Donna? What were they running from? What would happen to them if they were found?

“Gramps, check the scanner,” Donna suggested as she stood back up. Her hand squeezed John’s arm once before falling away. “Maybe we’re only a few months off.”

The old man nodded hurriedly and flicked another switch. A screen came on, displaying a rocky terrain that did not look at all like Britain.

“Oh. Oh dear. Maybe if I try again—”

“No,” John decided. They all looked to him in shock.

“John?”

“We’re here, aren’t we?” He breathed in once through his nose and nodded to himself. “Might as well make the most of it.”

Jenny’s expression slowly morphed into a grin. “We can have a look around?”

“Well,” said the Doctor. He looked behind himself at a panel. “Well, theoretically yes. Atmosphere is good, levels stable. Wouldn’t hurt nothing.”

Jenny looked back to him, her grin even wider now. Donna was watching him with the most curious expression, like she wasn’t sure quite what to make of him.

John stood up. “I did always say I wanted to travel. I’d be a hypocrite not to, now.”

“Alright. Alright, I suppose we’ll take a bit of a walk around then. See what we make of the place,” said the Doctor. He looked rather relieved that the shouting and tears had ended. The Doctor hit another button and the doors opened slowly. “Well, after you then, Mister, er—”

“Professor,” said John. “Professor Smith.”

“Oh. Right then,” said the Doctor with a nervous chuckle.

John wasn’t at all sure of what he was doing. He was in an unknown place and time with aliens and no certain path home. But he needed to be strong, for Jenny’s sake at the least. They’d get through this.

And if Donna’s smile made his doubts that much quieter, that was alright, too.

Blimey, what a day to find out he’d fallen head over heels for an alien!

[quicksilversquared]

How To Fake A Marriage Ch. 23

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(AO3) (FF.net)

As the summer and Adrien's job finally drew to a close, Adrien made one last push to try to get all of his filing done. That meant a week of early mornings, and a lot of whiny, sleepy girlfriend when he first got up.

"Nooooo," Marinette complained as Adrien rolled over to try to get out of bed. Sleepy arms latched around his waist. "Air's too cold. Stay in bed."

Adrien smothered a laugh and scooted back under the covers to try to pry Marinette's arms open. She refused to budge. "I have to go in, Mari. C'mon, let go of me."

"Noooooo."

"Marinette."

Marinette's arms tightened, pulling him back several centimeters. Adrien suspected that she was anchoring herself somehow, because otherwise she would be the one moving. "Bed's too cold without you."

Adrien snorted, letting himself slide up next to Marinette for a few moments more. He couldn't deny that the thought of staying with Marinette for a bit longer was a tempting idea. "Right, right. And then what do I tell my boss when I'm late and can't finish up my filing, hmm?"

Marinette didn't answer, only snuggled into his side more.

"I don't think my boss would be impressed if I told her that my neighbor wasn't letting me out of bed."

Marinette snorted, wriggling to get comfortable on top of him. "That makes it sound like some random person you barely know broke in and sat on top of you to trap you in bed."

Adrien gave the top of her head an amused pat. "Well, you are sitting on top of me."

"Not random though." Marinette yawned widely. "And I didn't break in."

"True enough."

"And I do know you pretty well."

"But you are trapping me." Adrien gave her arm another tug. "C'mon, Mari. Let me up. We can snuggle later."

Marinette groaned, slowly letting her grip loosen until Adrien could work his way free. There was a small pout on her face and Adrien couldn't help but grin and duck down to press a small kiss to her lips.

"You have to get up soon anyway," Adrien cajoled as he dug in his dresser for his clothes. Marinette had already buried herself again under the cover. "You won't get to sleep for that much longer."

"It's a whole hour," Marinette's voice said from under the cover. "Nope. Sleeping."

Adrien laughed and started to get dressed. It was amazing how fast he had gotten comfortable with dressing and undressing with Marinette still in the room. He knew that Marinette wouldn't look if she knew he was in any state of undress, so there was no point in getting all shy about it.

Besides, it wasn't as if Marinette wasn't ever going to see him undressed at some point, considering how things were going. He really wasn't all that concerned about it. In fact, if she did decide to ever watch, he might put on a little show just to tease her. He would probably get a pillow to the rear for his efforts, but it would be fun.

"Didn't you use to get up earlier to go over to work?" Adrien asked as he straightened his shirt. "I remember going over to your apartment sometimes last fall and you would already be gone."

Marinette groaned and peered out from under the blanket at him grumpily. "Yeah, well, first year, first few months- I had to make a good impression. I'm, like, a senior intern now and I don't have to be so overeager. I can do a great job without coming in before most of the normal designers. Now shush and let me sleep."

Adrien just laughed and patted the sleepy girlfriend-lump in his bed before heading out to keep getting ready.

The day went by fast. Adrien spent most of the day plowing through paperwork, determined to get the pile down to nothing before he left so that the normal secretary wouldn't have to try to catch up on much once she returned from maternity leave. It helped that a lot of people had been on vacation and so not as many forms had been coming in for him to file as normal. He had nearly finished for the day when Nathalie called him.

Sighing, Adrien picked up his phone and answered, hoping that it was only Nathalie and not his father who wanted to speak with him. "Yes?"

"Adrien," Nathalie greeted. "I know this is last-minute, but do you think that you could come back to Paris for a photoshoot before your next semester starts?"

Adrien frowned. "I thought I already modeled fall stuff!" he protested. He was almost certain that the photoshoot that he had done at the very start of the summer had included a fair amount of fall outfits. After all, he had spent several hours baking in the summer sun while modeling long-sleeved looks.

He had heard of suffering for fashion before, of course, but he would rather it didn't involve his suffering.

"Yes, well, your father made some new things that he wants in the fall spread, and there's some early winter ads that he wants to get done." Nathalie sounded completely unconcerned by the dismay in his voice. "So do you finish up with your job early enough this week to come back to Paris? I can get the train tickets-"

Adrien sighed, turning to his calendar. As much as he wanted to just refuse and tell Nathalie (and, by extension, his father) to just find a different model to use, it would be easier in the long run if he just agreed to the shoot. "I'm working through the end of this week, and then I'll need the weekend to get ready for the new semester and make sure that all of my books and everything are in order. But I suppose I can go back to Paris the first weekend after school starts again."

He didn't want to. He really didn't want to. Going back to Paris for a weekend meant a weekend where his father could complain about his life choices in person, should he actually choose to show up at any of the shoots or for dinner. But he wouldn't mind seeing Nino and Alya again, even if it was only for a short while, and Marinette had mentioned that she wanted to get her sewing machine from Paris sometime to work on some of her own projects. He could fetch that while he was in Paris, so Marinette wouldn't have to make her own trip.

Unless she wanted to, of course, which was entirely possible. After all, she actually enjoyed seeing her own parents.

"Any chance of you coming back over your fall break this year?" Nathalie inquired. "Do you know yet? Does it line up with your friend's Fashion Week?"

"No, this year it's two weeks before my break," Adrien said automatically. He and Marinette had checked early this year so that they could be prepared. While the timing still wasn't the best, it seemed like it should be better than the previous year. "But we were thinking of going somewhere during my break. We hadn't decided on where yet, but she has vacation days saved up that she wants to use, and we want to explore the country."

"I don't suppose you would be interested in coming back to Paris?" Nathalie tried hopefully.

"Not a chance."

Thankfully, Nathalie didn't try to argue. "Very well. We wouldn't be able to put the full photoshoot off until then anyway." She paused. "...actually, do you think you could do two weekends in a row? One for fittings, one for the photoshoots? Otherwise, it's a whole lot to fit into one weekend."

Adrien made a face. He didn't really want to go back to Paris twice in one month. Even if he didn't have any specific plans in London, he, well...

He wanted to spend time with his girlfriend. So sue him.

"Of course, I understand if you'll be too busy at that point in the semester," Nathalie continued when Adrien didn't respond. "But it would be difficult to fit both fittings and photoshoots into the same weekend unless you could come over before mid-day on Friday."

"That sounds better," Adrien said immediately. He pulled out his phone to double-check on his schedule for Fridays to make sure that he was remembering it correctly. "I have two classes on Fridays, both lectures, and the second one ends at ten. I could probably make a noon or eleven thirty train."

"I'll book you for the eleven-thirty train," Nathalie decided. There was the sound of her clicking something on the computer. "And then back on Sunday night on the nine p.m. train, so you can have time to catch dinner with your friends before you leave Paris."

Adrien grinned. That was really nice of Nathalie to think of that. Hopefully his father wouldn't try to stick in an evening photoshoot on Sunday.

After ironing out a few more details (Adrien had to promise to have Marinette do his measurements so the seamstresses would have the absolute most up-to-date accurate measurements for his outfits), Nathalie hung up and Adrien dove back into his filing, hoping to finish the pile he was on before he took off for the day.

"Why didn't you just say no?" Plagg wanted to know, popping out of Adrien's bag. "Surely your father has other models. They're not exactly in short supply."

Adrien let out a huff. "Yeah, but sometimes it's better to choose my battles. It's one weekend, and I'll get to see Nino and Alya again for dinner, hopefully. It won't be any fun to have to do a ton of back-to-back fittings and photoshoots, but I'll manage."

"I better get cheese if I'll have to spend forever cooped up in your bag on the train for ages," Plagg grumbled. "Your bag smells."

"It does not, I just washed it," Adrien said automatically. He reached over the desk to grab a paper and squinted to read the writing on it. "It smells just fine. If anything, it just smells a lot like Camembert. And it wouldn't do that if you didn't leave crumbs all over."

Plagg just sulked.

  The end of the summer came too fast and too slowly all at once. Adrien was glad to be done with office paperwork and glad to see Paul and his other uni friends on a more regular basis again, but now he had homework and readings and projects to take up his time. As expected, his coursework had picked up for his second year, and the concepts took a little more work and focus to understand. The professors also warned them that there would be more papers this year, something that worried Adrien. He had to write the papers in English, and it could sometimes take him quite a while to work out the grammar and to edit correctly. Writing research papers when he had to read published papers first was even harder, since it could take quite a lot of time to wade through the technical jargon in English.

In fact, Adrien already found himself hard at work all week to make sure that he would be on top of things and wouldn't have to do any homework over the weekend. In fact, he was spending more time in the evenings working on his assignments than Marinette was spending on her commissions.

At least he had a fantastic soundtrack to do his homework to in the evenings. Marinette had been sent several more demo tracks from the bands that had commissioned her, and they were pretty good.

"I don't understand why your wife decided not to come with you this weekend," Plagg said as he and Adrien rode the Eurostar back to Paris. "Doesn't she want to see her parents and Nino and Alya again?"

"She thinks that there would probably be a lot of speculation if we both went back to Paris the same weekend if there wasn't a holiday or something," Adrien said. He marked his place in his book so he wouldn't have to re-read the passage he had just waded through. "It makes sense that we would travel together when we go exploring and whatnot, but if we're just going back to Paris, then it starts to look like we don't want to be apart at all."

When Plagg didn't respond, Adrien went back to his book. He hadn't quite grasped the concept that his professor had introduced that morning, and he wanted to have a solid understanding before their next lecture on Monday. He only had a couple hours before he would be in Paris, and he was determined to make the most of them.

By the time the train pulled into Paris and Adrien hopped into the Gorilla's waiting car, he had read the section over twice and had done a few practice problems for good measure to make sure he was understanding and applying things correctly. He had his Physics section down, just in time to switch over to modeling instead.

The rest of Friday passed in a furry of fittings. Things were nearly perfect- clearly the measurements Marinette had taken helped speed things along- and then Adrien got a slight haircut before being shuffled off to an evening winter-themed photoshoot. By the time that was over, it was late and Adrien hadn't had a chance to eat more than a few bites in between shots.

"At least early-morning shots aren't a staple of fall and winter shoots," Adrien said with a sigh as he scarfed down his late dinner. Next to him, Plagg was loudly inhaling a round of Camembert. "I'll actually get to sleep. Not as much as I would at home, but I won't be woken up before the crack of dawn, at least."

Saturday was a mix of outdoor and indoor green-screen and set shoots. Adrien ate whenever he could, snitching bites during set restagings and whenever he had to wait for another model to finish getting ready. There was a proper break scheduled in for dinner- Adrien figured that he probably had Nathalie to thank, as his father usually didn't take things like food and breaks and rest into consideration when making schedules- but she was busy coordinating the photographers and makeup artists and hair team for the next round of sunset and evening shoots and wouldn't appreciate an interruption, even if it was to thank her.

By the time Sunday rolled around, Adrien was fairly certain that it would take a full week, if not longer, to get all of the product out of his hair. It had been brushed and styled and sprayed and re-brushed and re-styled and re-sprayed more times than he could count. A piece would start to slip marginally out of place and an army of stylists would immediately descend and spray it back into submission. His hair didn't even feel natural anymore.

Once he got back to London, he was going to have to hop straight in the shower.

Thankfully, everything was running on schedule under Nathalie's watchful eye. Everything seemed to be going right, and Adrien hoped that it would hold out for the entire day. He had made plans to join Alya and Nino for dinner at their apartment at six, so they would have a couple hours together before he had to swing past the Dupain-Cheng bakery to pick up Marinette's sewing machine and her sewing kit and then head straight to the train station.

He hadn't spotted his father at all weekend. Adrien wasn't certain if he was happy about that or not.

With the last photo snapped, Adrien only gave himself a few seconds to relax before he was dashing off to the changing room. He had to exchange a few pleasantries with the other models before they let him go and he dashed off to get in the car. His small suitcase for the weekend was already stashed in the trunk.

"Remember, you should be at the station by eight fifty at the very latest," Nathalie reminded him as the Gorilla pulled the car out into traffic. "If you want to stop by the bakery after your dinner, I would say you would have to leave your friends' apartment by eight or eight fifteen."

Adrien nodded. He would probably leave closer to eight, simply because a short visit with the Dupain-Chengs was a thing that really did not exist. He would probably leave with not only the sewing stuff, but a large bag of bakery leftovers as well.

Once he arrived at Nino and Alya's apartment, Adrien had only just stepped inside the outer door when he was nearly bowled over by Nino. His friend was grinning as he slapped Adrien's shoulder.

"Hey, model boy," Nino said with a grin. He squinted at Adrien. "Dude, is that eyeliner?"

"Hey, I had to look pretty for the pictures," Adrien said with a shrug. "Blond doesn't showcase the eyes that well, so I have eyeliner. And I came here directly from the shoot, so no judging."

"Aw, but where's the fun in that?" Nino asked as he lead Adrien up the stairs towards his apartment. He grinned. "Seriously, it looks like your hair might just crunch if I touch it. Like, it looks fine from a couple paces back, but up close..."

"Yeah, it's lucky we don't do shots that focus on my hair," Adrien agreed. "It feels fake right now. They could have added in all sorts of hair extensions and I honestly wouldn't be able to tell anymore."

Nino laughed.

Alya already had dinner on the table when they got upstairs. She greeted Adrien cheerfully, wasting no time in joining Nino in teasing Adrien about his makeup and hair.

"Hey, we don't have that much time together," Adrien protested as Alya ruffled his very, very stiff hair. "So I didn't want to waste half of that time showering."

Alya snickered. "Really? You'd spend an entire hour showering? Your water bills must be horrendous. I suppose it's a good thing you and Marinette don't live together, or she would never get any time to shower herself."

"I have more stuff in my hair than I normally do," Adrien protested, deciding to ignore the jab about Marinette. "So therefore it would take longer to get out. I don't spend that much time in the shower."

Neither Nino nor Alya looked convinced.

"It's too bad Marinette didn't come back with you this weekend," Alya said as they dished up. "She hasn't been back to Paris for forever, it seems. But I heard that she has more commissions that she's working on!"

"That she does," Adrien confirmed with a grin. "Several sets of album art, and then one of the singers found out that Marinette sews, too, so she has a couple rocker outfits to make. She has this faux leather stuff all over now."

"Is she going to use the sewing machines at Madam Rosalie's for those outfits, then?" Alya wanted to know. "I thought she left her sewing machine in Paris because she thought it would be too bulky and heavy to bring to London."

"She did leave her machine originally, and I'm getting it before I go to the train station," Adrien told her, impressed that Alya would remember that. "Marinette let her parents know so they could gather everything up, since I'll be in a hurry. I brought a big suitcase back to Paris so I can pack her sewing machine into it so it'll be easier to carry." He grinned, remembering his bodyguard's expression when he saw Adrien with his largest suitcase packed for one weekend at the train station. "The sewing machine is packed in a box for travel, so I had to pick a really big suitcase so it would fit. The Gorilla was really confused when he first saw it, because he thought I packed a ton for just one weekend."

His friends laughed.

"So what are you up to now?" Nino asked him. "You're done with your job now, right? The filing one?"

Adrien nodded. "Yeah, thank goodness. It was all right for a job, but it just wasn't what I wanted to be doing. I'm just focusing on school right now and honestly, I don't know if I could do more at the same time. It's only the first week, but it's already obvious that it's gonna be a whole lot harder this year."

"So that means he's gonna be boring," Nino mock-translated, grinning when Adrien kicked him under the table. "What? You know that's true. You'll be all study, study, study."

"It'll only get worse my third year, or so I've heard," Adrien said. He shrugged. "I think this week was as hard as it was mostly because I had to get all of my homework done before the weekend, and because I had to get used to new professors. They have a different teaching style, most of them, and I need to figure out how to get the most out of their lectures and then it'll be easy. Easier, at least."

"You could ask older students about those professors," Nino suggested, then checked himself. "I mean, students who have been in the program for longer. Third year students."

That was a good idea, actually, and not something Adrien would have thought of himself. He wasn't used to having to ask for help in catching on to a professor's teaching style. Normally he was the one that other people came to for help. "It would just be a matter of finding those students. I'm not super-familiar with people outside of my classes and I can't exactly, like, just go up to other students at random and ask them if they've had a certain professor."

"Then go to the tutoring center or something," Alya told him. "They should have students that did really well in those classes there that could give you study tips or readings and stuff so you can stay top of your class- because I know you're a crazy student like that."

Adrien just shrugged. There was nothing wrong with him wanting to put his best foot forward in his classes. The better he understood the concepts the better he would do in his classes, sure, but it would also make it easier for him to understand stuff in the higher-level courses later on.

From there, Adrien got to hear about how Nino's DJing was going (apparently he was largely in between doing indie movie soundtracks at the moment), and about the articles Alya had been writing for the paper. She was finally getting to do articles with more substance instead of just fluff pieces, though as one of the youngest on staff she still had to do jobs like sorting through letters to the editor and small local interest pieces.

"It's busywork, really, "Alya told them with a huff. "And at least I don't have to go through all of the letters to the editor. The interns whittle it down some to get rid of the junk, and then when it's my turn, then I just narrow further so that the editor can just look through a few things before making the final selection."

"It's not as exciting as covering superheroes," Nino told Adrien in a stage whisper. "Most things aren't, though."

Adrien had to laugh at that. "I can see where stuff would be a little less exciting than what you did with the Ladyblog. But at least your dates and interviews don't get interrupted all the time by attacks. Paris is doing better with Hawkmoth gone."

"Yeah, but it's less exciting," Alya complained. "At least I have my research to do when it's a slow day. It's a lot of sifting through dead ends, but when I find something, then it can be really fun."

"Or really frustrating, if you can't find anything else about them," Nino added. He grinned at Adrien. "She forgets that I hear all her grumbling in the evenings when she'd found a potential historical user but can't find more than, like, two really vague sources."

"It's frustrating!" Alya defended herself. "I just get a feeling about someone, that they were probably a user, but there's no proof. And without proof, all I have is a folder of random normal heroes and people throughout history from all over the world."

"Do you contact historians then?" Adrien asked. "From those areas? I know for that the big ones you could find experts on that person, but maybe you could just find people who were just experts on that period of time. They might have access to other materials that you couldn't find online, stuff that wasn't translated. You might need to find a translator to contact some of them, though."

Nino looked a little nervous. "Uh, maybe we could hold off on hiring a translator," he suggested. "Just have a list of historians you want to contact and the language you would want to contact them in for your application packet. Otherwise I can see it getting really expensive really fast, and we don't exactly have a ton of extra money sitting around."

Alya pouted.

"I mean, if you can find someone who speaks one of those languages who's willing to do it for free- like, one of our friends- then go ahead," Nino said quickly. "But if you'll probably be able to have the newspaper pay for it, then we won't have to spend a ton on translator fees."

"I suppose," Alya grumbled. "I just hate dropping a lead like that. Or not dropping, but at least putting it aside for a bit. I just worry about forgetting about some of the things I've found," she told Adrien. "My research is a bit messy right now. There's a lot of information and a lot of research, but it's a mess. I really have to sit down and properly sort it some time."

"She's getting a filing cabinet for her birthday," Nino whispered in Adrien's year when Alya hopped up to go refill her glass. "And oodles of folders and other organizing stuff. Maybe it's a boring gift, but she needs it right now."

Adrien just grinned.

The rest of their time flew by far too fast, and then Adrien was hugging his friends good-bye and heading out to the waiting car. The Gorilla drove him straight to the Dupain-Cheng bakery and Adrien hopped out, grabbing his ridiculously large suitcase from the back.

His clothes were going to be a wrinkled mess by the time he got back to London, with the amount of flopping around they were doing in his suitcase, but that hardly mattered. He'd have to wash them once he got back home either way.

"Remember, you only have thirty minutes with them before we have to go to the station," Nathalie reminded Adrien as he made to go up to the front door. "So don't linger too long."

"Of course."

It didn't take long for Tom to answer the door after Adrien pressed the doorbell. The large man grinned when he spotted Adrien, and as soon as the door was open, Tom enveloped Adrien in a hug.

"Adrien, son! It's good to see you," Tom said. He gave Adrien one last friendly squeeze before releasing him. "It's too bad Marinette couldn't come back for the weekend with you. Is she busy with work?"

"Work and commissions," Adrien agreed. He stepped inside the door so Tom could wave to Nathalie and the Gorilla before closing the door and leading the way upstairs. "She's working hard, making connections and whatnot. If she's ever between design jobs, she'll be able to get enough commission work to support herself, I think. And it'll look amazing on her resume, of course."

"She's done very well for herself," Tom said proudly. "Sabine and I had initially been concerned when Marinette wanted to become a fashion designer, since it's such a competitive industry and so many people don't succeed, but I don't think she'll have a problem."

Adrien nodded in agreement as Tom led the way into the living room. He could see where Tom might be concerned, since the fashion industry was very competitive and plenty of talented designers went undiscovered. The designers who ended up struggling the most were the ones who decided to strike out on their own instead of joining an existing company, and it seemed that Marinette had already decided against doing that. It was probably a smart move- while being an independent designer probably sounded glamorous, it was a lot of work and a lot of struggling to get things on the market and popular while not earning a particularly steady income.

"Adrien, dear!" Sabine called eagerly as she caught sight of him. "It's so good to see you! We got Marinette's machine all packaged up, and then we found everything else she wanted and got it in her sewing bag there." She pointed to the bag and box sitting on the table. "But won't you visit with us first before you run off again?"

"I can stay for a bit," Adrien agreed. "Just let me get the sewing machine into my suitcase right away, so we're not rushing at the end."

"Be really careful with it," Sabine warned, fluttering around him as Adrien unzipped his suitcase. "It's a sturdy machine and all, but too many knocks around will throw parts out of line and it can be pretty expensive to fix."

"I'll take care of it," Adrien promised. He glanced into his suitcase and quickly scrambled to cover a couple, ah, purchases he had made with a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Over the weekend, he had managed to squeeze in a trip to the store to pick up a few things, stuff that he couldn't exactly risk buying in London in case the paparazzi happened to spot him- and no, he wasn't being paranoid. The reporter that he and Marinette had spotted in the store had been there around the same time as they were several more times, and on top of that, several of the cashiers were young uni students that recognized him from the tabloids and he didn't want any of them taking note of any, ah, mature purchases.

Not that he was necessarily going to need any of said mature purchases anytime soon, but Adrien preferred to be prepared. He also preferred that his secret girlfriend's parents not notice the aforementioned purchases.

"So you just started classes this past week, I heard?" Tom asked as Adrien carefully moved the box with the sewing machine in it from the table to his suitcase. It was heavier than he had expected. "Is your second year getting off to a good start?"

"It is," Adrien confirmed with a grin. He arranged the box in his suitcase- it only just fit, which meant no rattling around when he carried it from place to place- and then tucked everything else in the suitcase into the space over the sewing machine box. He quickly zipped up the suitcase before the Dupain-Chengs could see anything incriminating, and then the suitcase went next to the table so he wouldn't forget either it or Marinette's stuffed sewing bag. "My classes are going to be more interesting this year, I think. We've moved on from the more basic stuff, and I think I get to pick the first of my elective classes second semester."

"Exciting," Tom said. He grinned at Adrien. "And you get to keep my daughter over there with you for another year, so I'm sure that's a bonus."

Adrien nodded a bit cautiously. He could recognize fishing for information when he saw it, especially after spending so much time with Alya and Nino. "Yeah, it's great to have her there! I love having a friend from Paris in London, and right next door, too. And then I get to hang out with Marinette and her friends from work, too, which is always fun. And I hate just sitting in my apartment alone, so..." He trailed off and smiled, trying to not let the smile get too sappy. "We hang out a lot. It's nice to have the company."

"Would you invite your friends from university over otherwise?" Sabine asked. She plopped down a large paper bag that, from the smell of it, was filled with delicious pastries, then headed over to perch on the couch. "Are most of them younger than you are?"

"I have invited my uni friends over before, just not anywhere near as often," Adrien told her. "None of them live in the building or next door like some of the other Rosalie workers do, though, so they have to come further. And yeah, my friends from uni are all younger than I am. There's a few other nontraditional students in my classes, but they're all, like, a lot older, with families and whatnot."

"I don't know if you're old enough to count as a nontraditional student," Tom said with a laugh. "And come over here and sit down, son. You don't have to just stand over there. We want to know how things are going in London."

Adrien grinned, crossing the room and settling down on the cushion Sabine was patting. Marinette's parents were always so welcoming and eager to hear what he was up to. In only twenty minutes, they learned more about what Adrien had been up to over the summer and his first week of the semester than his own father had learned over the entire weekend. There were more than a few pointed questions about him and Marinette that Adrien had to dodge, but Adrien had had so much experience with reporters that it was child's play to evade all of the questions.

"Oh, is that your ride?" Tom asked when Adrien's phone chimed. He looked disappointed. "Is it time for you to leave already?"

"Yeah, I have to get to the train station soon," Adrien admitted, checking his phone and shooting a quick message back to Nathalie to assure her that yes, he was on his way. "Nathalie got me on the latest train back to London, so I can't miss it. It was great getting to talk to you guys again."

"It was great getting to see you again too, dear," Sabine told him fondly. "Now Tom, do you want to help him carry everything downstairs? Maybe you can take the suitcase."

Tom ended up taking both the suitcase and Marinette's sewing bag while Adrien trotted down the stairs after him with the bag of pastries. How he was going to carry everything once he was getting on the train he had no clue, but he would make it work somehow.

"Take care of our girl for us," Tom told him as Adrien stepped out the door. "Make sure she doesn't overwork herself, between her job and her commissions. And see if she'll come back with you next time you come to Paris, all right? Facetiming her just isn't the same as seeing her in person. And give her a hug for us."

"I'll do that, sir," Adrien told him. "I promise."

[theothercourse]

40 QUESTIONS — MEME FOR FIC WRITERS - 7, 8, 9,10, 15, 17, 19, 20, 35, 38. Again, a lot, I'm sorry, but I love when you tell us more about your writing! And happy new year, sweetie!! Hope it's full of love, peace and wonderful things for you and your loved ones! Love you! .Maizie

I love that you asked, and I certainly don’t mind answering many.

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

This is from The Best Intentions, the RP romance between Ansgar Martinsson and Joline Lindberg. I wrote for Joline and loved this part:

Joline hiked up on her booted toes to erase the last bit of distance between them, wanting for be consumed by the torrential heat blazing off of him. The tangle of tongues sent the sweetest torture of sensation straight to her core, her body heavy with need. One of his hands dug into her hair to hold her captive against his mouth, the other pressed into the small of her back, tipping her hips against his. Dull fingernails scraped along his scalp when she took hold of his curls.

Lust played an undeniable force around them like gravity held them to the Earth’s surface. Slaves to it, but masters of it within their sphere of two. Their friendly jogger, his sights on Ansgar, now making his fifth lap past them, cut his losses and kept going to beat off his own arousal at the picture the two made, a smash of leather, denim and desire.

Ansgar was the one to end the meld of lips and teeth and tongues, regrettably. He knew that if they went on as they were he’d tear her clothes from her body and take her right on the spot, the wandering curious gazes be damned.

Joline herself felt ready to jump into her arms, coil her long legs around him and search out the closest surface to fuck against. He tasted of coffee, sex, danger and she already felt the addictive streams pouring through her body, her pores itching for his fingers and mouth as a balm.

His breath panted against her lips, swollen and pink from the pressure of their passionate kiss and the burn of his goatee. But—Fuck! She was a vision! His influence on her for all to see, he was almost… enchanted by it. He dragged his thumb across her lip, “You’re delicious. I simply cannot wait to taste what other flavors you’re hiding.”

Joline kept her eyes closed, concentrating on the bursts of heated breath spreading over her abused lips and the vibrations from his lips to hers. “God-fucking-damn it, Martinsson!” Only her voice had dropped to a seductive purr instead of the angry tones from moments ago.

He dropped his mouth to her ear, his tongue rasped at the fleshy lobe just once before her murmured, “Search out other art on your skin.”

The five ink decorated skin spots hidden beneath her clothes tingled, sending out a honing signal for him to lock in on. Joline pried her eyes open as he lifted his face to peer into hers. The brassed off woman had been somewhat tamed by temptation, he could see it in the flush of arousal and the relaxed scowl. “If this is what ‘intrigued’gets me, I’m fucked if I ever pique your interest,” she quipped in a delayed response to his comment that led to the heated argument and equally as heated kiss.

The pride and arrogance displayed on him in the forming of a Cheshire grin. “You’re fucked either way, as soon as I get you alone,” he replied confidently.

There’s just so much of their dynamic wrapped up in this part. I really loved writing for Joline, and writing with a partner. I always felt that writing with my partner made me better. My partner is infinitely talented, and I was lucky to have the opportunity to work with them twice! Really lucky. 

Joline stretched me as a writer. She was rough with harder edges than any of the other female characters I’ve created. She had to be to be a match for Ansgar. They loved each other fiercely, and fought just as much. Some of my best writing came out of doing that RP.

8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Here’s a small snippet of Chocolate that followed after The Course of True Love Never Did Run Smooth:

“Are you waiting for him, turtledove? Are you waiting for Tom? He told you not to.”

Avoiding Terry’s gaze, I zeroed in on the steam rising over the rim of the wide width of the cup, considering his question seriously, weighing up how much of my reluctance was hung up on the man that left me behind. I didn’t blame Tom in the slightest. He was chasing his dream in Los Angeles as I was in New York City. Our careers were important and set in motion before we met each other. Although we fell in love, we couldn’t be together. Noble Tom set me free to date and possibly find another love, insisting that I shouldn’t wait for him until he could come back for me.

Our six month separation became ten with one phone call. Tom and I spoke only that once since he left, only to tell me that his career path was leading him back to England, and he couldn’t come back for me or the Hiddleston family watch that he gave me. There was no true end in sight for our separation.

“Button?”

Blinking repeatedly, I leveled my eyes on Terry’s concerned puppy dog expression. I cleared my throat and huffed a small laugh to cove my pause, reveling in the memory of Tom and I in our one week together. “I’m trying, Terr. I’m trying to not wait for him. But my heart… my heart isn’t in dating. Tom took it with him when he left,” I said honestly, picking at the chocolate donut, the very thing Terry was sugaring me up with.

“Have you talked to him?”

“Not since the Spielberg call, seven weeks, three days and sixteen hours ago.”

Terry said, sarcastically, “Excellent! I was worried you were counting.”

With a rueful shrug, I confessed, “I can’t help that, babe. All he left me with was time and a way to measure it.”

Mainly, I love what Kristiane says. It was so fortuitous that Tom gave Kristiane his watch at the end of The Course. I had originally wanted it to be some kind of trinket that Tom found along his theatre journeys that he kept for good luck, that he would eventually give to Kristiane as a hopeful ending to the story. I then thought it would be a piece of jewlery like... a broach or necklace. I’m grateful that it was a watch and I could use that line. It’s so... sad and hopeful at the same time. It’s romantic.

9. Which fic has been the hardest to write?

I answered this one in the previous ask.

10. Which fic has been the easiest to write?

I’ll go with The Best Intentions. It was always the easiest and most inspiring to write with a partner, someone to bounce ideas off of, plot with, get ideas from, and generally to get feedback and support from. I did the most writing I’ve ever done with a partner. 

15. If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?

Answered in the previous ask

17. Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

Definitely, definitely out of order. That’s exactly why Down with Love and How the Other Half Lives have been so problematic. Piecing things back together is a bitch.

19. Stephen King once said that his muse is a man who lives in the basement. Do you have a muse?

Yep!

20. Describe your perfect writing conditions.

Summer day, late breeze, my balcony, sun bright, Broadway tunes, nowhere else to go... no time constraints, no distractions. A bottomless glass of ice tea and pink starbursts. My London themed notebook and my purple ink pen (Uni Ball Signo, medium, purple ink).

35. Would you ever kill off a canon character?

I’ve thought about it, but I don’t know if I could ever go through with it. I’m too emotionally connected to my characters to do it. I thought about it for the Best Intentions and Down with Love. I won’t reveal who or why or what it would do for the narrative and trajectory of the story.

38. Talk about a review that made your day.

All of them. Seriously. Beyond a shadow of a doubt. Any response to something I’ve written makes my entire day. I realize how much social anxiety and fear that goes into putting yourself out there, as a writer and as a reader. Any message or question that I get means so much to me.

Thank you, Maizie. You’ve been an amazing support for me, even while I’ve been so stuck. I appreciate it.