i guess i have a thing for trench coats

Teachable Moments (Coda to 12x12 “Stuck in the Middle (With You)”

Dean’s driving Cas home when Cas has the sudden urge to take Dean up on his offer for one of his ‘teachable moments’. Dean, still dealing with what went down in the barn, does what Cas asks. But will Dean be the teacher… or the student? AO3)

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stevetrevvvor  asked:

Something I've seen since WW released, legit upsetting me, is people attempting to lessen Chris' significance in his role as Steve Trevor or just completely writing him off. He's been so gracious and an all around stand up guy about supporting both Gal and this film, so it pisses me off how quick to dismiss him people are simply because they don't like his character or the fact that he's a romantic love partner to the lead. He deserves every bit of credit for what he alone offers.

Oh, I have totally noticed it! And I won’t stand for it!

Steve Trevor, and Pine’s portrayal of him, was a breath of fresh air in comic book films. And to lessen his importance to the Wonder Woman mythos, no, that I cannot allow. And shame on anyone who is participating in that narrative.

His character was equally important to the story being told. Things would not have progressed had it not been for him (and the kind of character he is).

I guess in a way, people are doing to him, what they do to other female love interests. I shouldn’t be surprised, yet here we are.

A Little Too Late Part 39

gifs are not mine

Title: A Little Too Late Part 39

Characters: Denise (mom minor OC), Lucifer, Castiel, Gabriel, Y/N (final no pairing chapter!)

Word Count: 1,111

Warnings: slight angst, fluff

A/N: The reader gets some comfort from her mom before she has to choose who she will be with for the rest of eternity.  WHO WILL IT BE? Feedback is welcomed and appreciated! I love you all so much! <3<3

The masterlist for this series can be found HERE!

As you got dressed, you thought back to a few nights ago.  There was nothing but laughter while the four of you ate.  The angels didn’t eat, but they smiled while you, Sam, Dean, and your mother talked.  You knew today would be different no matter what.

As you slipped on your rings, you smiled at the one Balthazar had given you the first day he met you.  It was the ring that you could seal sigils with.  The other rings were gifts from some of the other angels such as Naomi, Samandriel, and Michael.

There was a knock on your door, causing you to turn around.  Your mother walked into your room, a sheepish smile on her lips.  “Hey [Y/N],” your mother spoke softly.  “I just wanted to see if I could borrow a sweater.”

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Wardrobe Malfunction: a CS Halloween ficlet

Happy Halloween! I want @bashful-killian to feel better, so he’s a short, silly story that has almost no point.

Are you free tonight, love? I thought we might celebrate the holiday together.

Emma frowned at her cell phone. Killian wanted to celebrate … Halloween?

Really? she texted back.

As usual, his reply took a while, given his disability. Aye. I thought we might have dinner together on my ship. I’ll dress for the occasion.

Now that, she had to admit, she wanted to see. You’re going to dress up for Halloween?

Of course. I want to fit in, my love. You know that. I think you’ll like what I’m planning to wear.

Oh, will I? She added a winking emoji.

Your lad helped me with it. You’d better wear something equally stunning.

She snorted, catching her mother’s attention from across the table. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” Emma ate another fry before texting again. All right, I’ll be there tonight. Should I bring food?

“Not nothing,” Mary Margaret said suspiciously.

I’ve got the evening all set, love. No need to bring anything except for your lovely self.

“You’ve got that look,” Mary Margaret continued.

“What look?”

“The look that says you’re thinking about doing inappropriate things with your pirate boyfriend.”

Emma blushed. “Ew, Mom!”

Mary Margaret rolled her eyes. “Look, I was your friend for months before I knew you were my daughter. We’ve talked about worse. It’s fine. Just tell me you’re not sexting in front of me.”

“We are not sexting.” Now, Emma added mentally.

“So what’s going on?”

Emma shrugged. “He wants me to go over to the Jolly Roger tonight to celebrate Halloween.”

“He what? How does he even know about Halloween?”

“He asked about it the other night,” she recalled. “He wanted to know what was with all the pumpkins and stuff. I explained about dressing up and getting candy and stuff, and he thought it sounded kind of cool. But I had no idea he wanted to celebrate it.”

“He really does want to fit in,” Mary Margaret reminded her. “So he has a costume?”

“Yeah, he says Henry helped him pick it out, and that he thinks I’ll really like it.”

Mary Margaret frowned thoughtfully. “Well, if Henry had to help him pick it out, it’s probably not anything he would have worn in the Enchanted Forest.”

“Probably not.”

“I don’t know. Did you guys watch any movies lately?”

“Well, just—oh.”

“Oh?”

“He really loves Star Wars, and we just rewatched the original trilogy a couple weeks ago.”

Her mother chuckled. “Lemme guess—you think he’d make a sexy Han Solo.”

She felt her blush deepen. “I may have mentioned something about it to him.”

“So you need a Leia costume? I’ve got a white dress you might be able to use.”

“Not to go back into gross territory, Mom, but I think there’s a different costume he’s expecting.”

“Ew,” Mary Margaret said. “You’d better talk to Ruby, then.”

Several hours later, Emma shifted uncomfortably under her trench coat as she approached the Jolly Roger, feeling a little bit pervy about the whole thing. She hoped Killian wasn’t going to insist that they actually leave and go trick-or-treating, but given how pleased he’d been to hear her admit she’d had the hots for Harrison Ford’s character, and his reaction to Leia’s metal bikini, she had a feeling they’d be staying in tonight.

It had been really embarrassing asking Ruby for help, but at least she’d been non-judgmental about the whole thing. And Emma had to admit, she’d be a lot less comfortable without Ruby’s trusty double-sided fashion tape. She just had to focus on enjoying Killian’s reaction. She got on deck and knocked on the hatch that led to his cabin. “Come on down, love,” he called. She lifted the hatch and made her way down the ladder.

To find Killian waiting for her, wearing a perfectly tailored three-piece suit, complete with boutonniere. “What are you supposed to be?”

He winced. “Bloody hell, Henry promised I had it right,” he said. “Is the tie wrong?”

“No, I mean …” Was he supposed to be James Bond or something? “I don’t get why you’re dressed like that for Halloween.”

“You said that for the holiday, we were supposed to dress up. Henry swore this passed for formalwear in your realm.”

Oh. Oh shit. “Shit.”

“What?” His eyes narrowed. “Henry didn’t lie to me, did he?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Did you tell him why you needed to dress up?”

“No.”

“Shit, Killian, for Halloween you dress up in a costume.”

“Like a masquerade?”

“Sort of.”

“So, not formalwear.”

“Nope.”

“But I did the formalwear correctly.”

“Yeah.”

“Swan, now I am intensely curious regarding your attire.” He was grinning. “Shall I take your coat?”

“No.” She pulled it more tightly around her.

“So you’re just going to wear your coat all evening?

“Maybe.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Ah ah ah!” He moved too quickly for her, though, and managed to use his hook to undo the knot she’d tied to keep the trench coat belted shut. Half a breath later, he was pressed up against her, pushing her gently into the ladder, and undoing the coat’s buttons with dexterity he’d had centuries to practice. “Well, I must say, if this is what passes for women’s formalwear in this realm, I approve wholeheartedly.”

“Stop it.” She wrapped the coat around herself defensively. “I thought you were going to dress up as Han Solo.”

“Now I wish I had,” he murmured. “You would wear that to walk around Storybrooke, asking for candy?”

“No,” she said hotly. “I figured we were staying in tonight and I could wear something … like this.”

“Well, we are staying in tonight, darling, so I approve wholeheartedly.” He cocked his head. “Though I wish I’d dressed appropriately.”

“You look fine, I’m just embarrassed.”

“Why?”

“Why?” she parroted back. She rolled her eyes and opened her trench coat. “Because you’re dressed to the nines, and I’m wearing a metal bikini!”

“Well, then, I suggest if you dislike it so much, you stop wearing it.”

An hour later, Emma stretched languidly, wishing they’d figured out a way to install heat on the ship. “I think dinner got cold.”

“Worth it, darling.” His hand snaked around her and pulled her to his chest. “How could I resist the urge to ravish my beautiful Leia?”

“It’s not fair,” she complained. “I wanted to see you as Han.”

“Perhaps next year. Unless there’s another holiday sooner on which I could appropriately do so?”

She shook her head. “I guess you could next year, but I’m not doing this again.”

“You could wear her initial outfit.”

“And the cinnamon bun hair?”

“Aye, and the cinnamon bun hair.” He chuckled.

She shook her head. “Nah. You can be still Han, but maybe I’ll go as Chewie.” She tried to make a Chewbacca roar and broke down in giggles at her own terrible impression, as well as the expression of disgust on Killian’s face. “No good?”

“I’d rather you wore the trench coat,” he admitted, before looking thoughtful.

“What is it?”

“Well, I did wear the suit correctly, yes?”

“You did. You looked great.”

“I’d still like to see what you look like dressed formally.”

She thought for a moment, and then grinned. “I’ve got just the movies for you to watch.”

“What’s that, love?”

“Did Henry mention James Bond at all when he was helping you out with the suit?”

“He did, actually. Who is this Bond person?”

“Let’s just say he spends a lot of time all dressed up with equally dressed up ladies.”

He grinned. “Well then. Here’s to next year, Princess Leia.”

Home (Sequel to 'Angels and Demons')

Character: Castiel x Reader (Female)

Word Count: 2,409

Warnings: Minor Swearing? 

F.Y.I : [Y/L/N] - Your Last Name. [Y/H/T] - Your Home Town.

Request:

Please, please, please write a part two for Angles and Demons

I need an Angels and Demons part 2!!!

Angels and demons was sooo good omg it wAS HONESTLY THE BEST FIC IVE EVER READ AND IVE BEEN AROUND A WHILE PAT YOURSELF ON THE BACK AND WRITE ME ANOTHER PLEASE :D

Hi:) “Angels and Demons” was so good :) Can you write another part where after few weeks of living with the brothers and Cas and her uncertainty about her decision.

AN: Hey, guys :) I hope everyone is having a good day!! Sorry for being a bit M.I.A. lately… I’ve just been trying to get caught up in school, and with work, it hasn’t been easy. I’m thinking that my schedule should even out soon :) anyways, I hope everyone enjoys!! Tell me what you think? Feel free to leave a request, ask a question, or just stop by to say hello!

-Megan :)

x

Part 1 - ‘Angels and Demons’

———————

What is a home?

You had been pondering this question for a few months now…

Is it a place? The location where you feel the safest and most comfortable, where you can truly be yourself? 

…or can a home even be defined in such terms? Is it instead, a collection of the things that you love? Your family and friends?

Whatever the answer, you knew one thing for sure… 

You were not at home, here in Kansas.

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i can’t interact with the post mentioning this because I guess OP blocked me at some point, but I wanted to bring up something.

Forget being huge in a species where a lot of adults are already huge-ish. Imagine being from a species where a lot of folks are like 8 ft tall and people have to build for that anyway, and you’re over here barely 6 ft. The tallest people in the fantroll community would be hella short to trolls. my 5′6 ass would barely reach counters. me and some friend could do the two small people in a trench coat thing and the top one paint themselves grey and wear horns. Someone please make two humans who do this

Kindness of Strangers

Dean Winchester had been homeless for months now. The only family he had left had all died recently and things went downhill. So there he sat, begging strangers to show some sympathy. It had been around three days since he’d eaten and all he needed was another dollar and he could by himself something substantial to eat. 

Unfortunately, the sun set below the horizon and the temperature dropped. Dean reached to his bag to grab the only blanket he had, but he was afraid it wasn’t going to be enough.

The hunger pains in his stomach grew larger as time passed, the smell coming from him was unpleasant, and the air was frigid. He wasn’t sure how much worse it could get, until he saw a few snowflakes fall from the sky. At this point, he knew he needed somewhere warm to stay, but there was nowhere he could think of. He looked up to the city skyline stitched to the dark sky and shivered. 

Just then, a man in a trench coat walked by but stopped when he saw the shivering pale figure. 

“You must be freezing,” the man said.

“You can say that again,” Dean looked up into the man’s eyes and saw they were an extravagant blue. His hair was tossed around and glittering with the tiny snowflakes that dusted it.

“You can’t stay out here all night. Will you let me buy you some food?”

Dean’s eyes glimmered with hope and his stomach let out a loud roar just at the thought of finally feeding himself. 

“Are you an angel?” Dean asked as he stood up.

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Supernatural Pref. #7: You're Obsessed With Butts
  • Sam: You and Sam were on a case in some small town. You two had a few facts about what was going on, but you needed some more details. So, you and Sam did what you two do best and went to someone's house to ask some questions. "So, ma'am, could you please tell my partner and I what you think happened to your husband," Sam asked an elderly lady. "Well, the police say that it was a some maniac, but I think that it was a..." You lost interest in what the woman was saying, Sam handled these things better than you anyways. Plus, you were getting a little a distracted by the way Sam's butt looked in his dress pants. As the woman continued her story, you snuck in a few glances of your boyfriend's booty while you smiled to yourself. He caught you staring and nudged your shoulder to make you pay attention. "Is there anything else that you can think of, ma'am," Sam asked the older woman. "No, sorry," she answered. "That's okay. If you ever remember anything, anything at all, then just give me or my partner a call." "Okay. Thank you," the woman said. You and Sam were finally leaving the house and heading towards your car. "You can drive," you said tossing Sam the car keys. He caught them and stepped in front of you to open the car door. But, before he could even put the key in the door, you gave Sam's butt a big squeeze, making him jump a little. "Nice work in there, fancy-pants," you said slapping his booty. Sam was about to say something when you kissed him on his cheek and winked at him. "You're so lucky that you're cute," your boyfriend said as you both got in the car and drove to your motel.
  • Castiel: "Y/N, could you please stop grabbing my behind?" "Cas, I can't even grab your butt with that trench coat of yours in the way," you complained. "Well I guess it's a good thing that I have it," Castiel replied. "Hey, Y/N, why don't you just lift the back of the trench coat up," Dean suggested making Castiel roll his eyes. "Why didn't I think of that before," you asked smacking your forehead, "Thanks Dean." You raced over to your boyfriend and pulled his coat halfway up and hung on to it. "You know what," you said, "I'm not even going to touch your butt, Cas." "Thank you, Y/N," Cas sighed as he tried to walk away. But you still had a tight grip on his coat. "Instead, I'm just going to follow you around, just like this and stare at the booty," you finished. Castiel sighed again, but then he smiled once he remembered how happy his butt made you.
  • Dean: You were outside sitting on a chair watching Dean while he gave the Impala a little touchup. He was bending over in front of the hood checking for something, when you started to notice how Dean's ass looked in his jeans. "Woo! Shake it baby," you shouted with a big grin on your face. Dean gave you what you wanted and he started to shake (almost actually twerk) his butt. "How's this for ya," he said moving closer to you while he continued to rotate his hips. You then stood up and kissed your boyfriend while your hands made their way to his perfectly, round ass. You squeezed his butt hard too, but Dean didn't mind, he loved it when you did that. He groaned several times in your mouth before he finally pulled away. "Babe," Dean said, "you wanna take this to the Impala?" "You know I do," you replied biting your lip and giving Dean's ass a slap before you got into the backseat of the car to have some more fun.
  • A/N: So I hope you guys actually enjoy this. Also, Dean's part was getting really close to turning into a smut.
The Hard Questions (Chapter 3)

Chapter 2

“Hey.” I wake to a gentle nudge on my shoulder. “Elodie.” I groaned and tried to swat the hand away. “Elodie, I really hate to do this to you, but if you sleep much longer the jet lag is gonna mess you up.” I felt the bed shifting and then Steinem’s excited good morning kisses. I let my eyes flutter open and gently pushed Steinem off me to see Harry smiling gently.

“Morning.” he greeted. 

“Likewise.” I replied. “Do you have coffee?”

“I do actually,” he said, producing a cup that had been set on the nightstand. “I don’t know how you take it-”

“Black is fine,” I said accepting the cup. Inhaling the steam rolling off the life-saving liquid, I could smell a rich, full-bodied brew. I took  a tentative sip and sighed. Delicious.

“Thanks,” I said, holding the cup in two hands and looking up. Harry was standing awkwardly at the foot of the bed, unsure as to whether or not he should stay and talk with me or leave me to my drink. 

I didn’t want him to leave.

“You can sit, if you want,” I told him. He perched on the edge of the bed with his own cup.

“So,” I started, trying to break the silence, “what do you have planned for today?”

“Packing, mostly.” he answered. “Some friends of mine are throwing a party, and I’d like to go. You can come if you want.”

“I kind of have to,” I said. “I have to write an in-depth piece, remember? I have a job to do while you’re punishing me.”

Harry studied the coffee cup in his hands. Steinem looked from me to him as if he were watching a tennis match.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, so quietly it was just above a whisper. “I know this is hard for you, I admit that threatening to sue you probably wasn’t the most mature choice.”

I had to hold back a snort of derision. “Then why make me do this?” I asked.

“I want you to see me.” he told me quietly. “I know you probably don’t want to hear this right now, but you’re wrong. About me and who I date. I wanted you to see that.”

“Eight months of telling me I’m wrong seems just a tad overboard, don’t you think?”

“Well, I’ve read your articles.” He answered. “You’re blunt, and you’re honest. You don’t sugarcoat anything.” He looked up from his cup to face me.

“Even though we’ve come a long way as a band, people still call us a boyband, like we’re a couple of kids.”

“And you think I could change that? And how many of my articles have you read?”

“I’ve read a fair few. And I think a piece in Smirk about the real stuff would help people realize that we’re not boys anymore.”

“Oh.”

“Plus,” he turned to me with a smile, “I really like hanging out with Steinem." 

He reached out and patted my dog’s head, who reacted with a happy bark and wagging tail. I smiled. This was one of the moments where I regretted how bitchy my article sounded. Maybe I should’ve gotten to know him more.

"Well,” I started, “If you need help packing, I’d be happy to lend a hand.”

“Thanks.”

—————————————————————-

“Isn’t this shirt worth like $1500?”

“I think so. Why?”

“No reason. It just looks like something you could get something you could from a thrift store for like, five cents.”

“Heeeeeeeey. It’s a cool print.”

I giggled. We had dove into Harry’s extensive wardrobe and had been attempting to sort it into piles, once that was done, we had been putting the piles in suitcases. And as much as people on Twitter liked to joke, his wardrobe really was 75% skinny jeans. The rest was printed button downs, YSL coats and weird hats.

“Um, Harry?” I asked. 

“Yeah?”

“Is this…..a woman’s coat?” I held up a Burberry trench. Harry’s cheeks immediately turned pink. “Oh, uh,” he stammered. “Yeah, it is.”

I raised an eyebrow. 

“I got a little carried away in the store one day,” Harry explained. “Midnight Memories had just dropped, and we had just gotten our first checks.”

I could see his eyes sparkling at the memory and I couldn’t help but smile. He studied me for a moment. “You should try it on.” He stated. I looked up, my eyes widening. “Me?” I asked.

“No, Steinem. Yes, you.” he laughed. “Go on then.”

I put the coat on, looking at him curiously. It fit perfectly, which struck me as odd, given how skinny Harry was. He stepped close to me, tugging the coat into place and tying the belt tight. I looked up, realizing just how close our lips were to each other. “Perfect.” he whispered. We both were moving closer by the centimeter, when Harry’s phone buzzed in his pocket. We both shot apart, Harry picking up his phone with a curt, “Hello?” a pause. “Yeah man, I’ll be there in like, an hour. Okay. See you then.”

He put his phone down and turned to look at me. I had since removed the coat and placed it on his bed.

“Hey,” I asked suddenly, “why isn’t there a sheet on your bed?" 

There was nothing but bare mattress beneath his comforter. I looked up and Harry had gone white as well……a sheet. "Um,” he mumbled, “I’m trying to get used to a tour bunk. They’re really firm." 

"Oh.”

“Anyway, we should start getting ready.”

“Already?” I looked at my watch, shocked to see that it was already about four thirty in the evening. “We’ve really been at this for that long?”

“I guess so.” he was studying me again. “You should take the coat.”

I looked down at the trench again. It was probably worth at least three paychecks, minimum. “I really shouldn’t,” I said, “It’s way too expensive.”

“Good thing I paid for it, then.” Harry replied with a smile. “C'mon, think of it as a peace offering. Besides, doesn’t really fit me well in the shoulders, makes my hips huge, and the way it looks with my boobs, you don’t even wanna know.”

I laughed. “Well,” I responded sarcastically, “If you really think it would improve relations between us, I guess really don’t have a choice, do I?”

Harry’s face instantly softened. “Yes you do,” he answered. “You always have a choice with me.”

We looked at each other for a moment. He looked concerned, as if he was afraid I was going to start sobbing about how much of a prisoner I was. Instead, I picked up the trench and held it up to myself. “Maybe I’ll just hold onto it for you.” I said quietly. I then made my way to his bedroom door, turning to him on my way. “I’ll go get ready for the party.” I told him. I clicked my tongue for Steinem to follow, who got up from his spot beneath the window and followed me to my room. I gently closed my door gently and leaned against it. 

What was going on? Why was he acting this way? Did he genuinely like me and care about me? We barely knew each other. Was he just trying to distract me and get on my good side so I wouldn’t make him look bad again? 

I pondered these questions, shrouded in a confused fog as I dressed and got made up for the party. In my trusty Louboutins, triple-markdown Alice & Olivia LBD and a necklace given to me by my best friend Gretchen, I felt at least semi-ready to take on the crowd we were going to hanging with tonight. Just as I spritzed on some perfume (Clinique Happy) there was a tap at the door. 

“Are you ready?” Harry’s voice softly inquired from the other side. 

“Just about.” I responded, surveying myself in the mirror. Yep. That would work. I opened the door to a waiting Harry, whose eyes widened when he saw me. I had to stop myself from smirking. “Are we taking a cab, or…?” I asked. 

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Harry stuttered. “We’ll have to leave separately. I hope that’s not a problem.”

“Not at all.”

There was a cab waiting outside, the number for which we were given once we had been dropped off at the Shoreditch House, at which I had interviewed a few Smirk cover stars. I had never liked the place. It was like a douchebag refugee camp. Granted, I wasn’t exactly Mother Teresa, but seriously. Just because you had recently acted in a film that did well at the Cannes or had painted something cool did not give you license to act like a tool. I followed Harry through the dimly lit maze of pretentious artists and their muses, spoiled heiresses and heirs, uppity filmmakers and actors and worst of all, models. Dozens of them. It was like a convention for the underfed. Nonetheless, I felt myself suck in my stomach as we made our way upstairs, which Harry told me had been privately booked for the event. The room we made it to was blessedly emptier, with quite a few couches and chairs for people to rest on. As we neared the host, a waif-like redhead shoved past me, practically elbowing my clutch out of my hand while wiping away some telltale white powder from underneath her nose, chirping a hello to Harry. I rolled my eyes as we finally reached our host, revealed to be Nick Grimshaw. Nick had appeared as a guest DJ on Smirk Radio, our Sirius XM station. He recognized me and we hugged and exchanged the usual English greeting of quick cheek kisses. “Didn’t know you’d be coming, Els.” he said warmly.

“Here on official business, Nick” I replied. 

“She’s touring with us,” Harry piped up.

“Really? What for?”

“He’s paying me back for my article I wrote on Wednesday.” I stated.

“Why? It was hilarious.” Nick laughed. 

“And untrue.” Harry grumbled.

Before I could reply, a loud, flinty voice called out both Harry and Nick’s names. We all looked back to see Jada Cherrise, the current face of Prada, whose unofficial motto was, “Yes, I’m a cunt-faced bitch with the personality of a frozen cactus, but don’t my looks make up for it?” The daughter of a mafia heiress and international heroin magnate, Jada had grown up in New York with a silver spoon ensconced firmly in her mouth. At least, it was in there when she wasn’t sucking dicks or screaming threats at people to get what she wanted. Rumor had it, the life had partner of the adverstising manager for Prada had mysteriously gone missing for a few days, then returned once Jada was publicly confirmed as its spokesmodel for its spring season. Kelly and I had both nearly gotten black eyes when interviewing her last month at Fashion Week. Minutes later, while looking for her to finish our interview, we had caught her in a supply closet with Karl Lagerfeld’s assistant’s dick in her mouth.

Nick rolled his eyes and groaned as she came closer, a bouncer trailing her.

“How the fuck did she get in?” he grumbled.

“What’s wrong with Jada?” Harry asked. “She’s nice.”

“Yeah,” Nick replied. “If you’re a multimillionaire.”

“Heeeeeeey.”

“NICK!” Jada shrilled as she got close enough. “This stupid fatass has told me that I’m not on the list. Please tell him he’s wrong.”

The bouncer in question opened his mouth to reply but was waved away by Nick. “It’s fine, Jake.” he said. “Thanks for trying.” He then turned to Jada. 

“Truthfully, Jada.” he smiled fakely, You weren’t on the list. And I’d appreciate it if next time you’d call ahead instead of crashing and abusing my staff.“

"Oh, what-the-fuck-ever.” Jada whined. “Daddy always says that if you want something, anything is necessary.”

I couldn’t help it. I snorted. Audibly. Harry frowned and Jada whirled to me. “And who the fuck are you?” she spat. Before I could introduce myself, Harry jumped in, desperate to keep the peace. “Jada, this is Elodie. She writes for Smirk.” Jada’s eyes narrowed. 

“Weren’t you that fucking rag that tried to tell everyone that I suck dicks in order to get contracts?” she snarled.

“Don’t you?” I asked with fake cordiality. 

Harry glared at me. Nick, however, appeared to be having the time of his life.

“Who wants a drink?” He asked. 

“I’d like a gimlet, please.” I answered.

“I’ll have the Cranberry Cosmo.” Harry added.

“Do you want it in a rocks glass so you’ll still feel like a man?”

Harry fake-glared at Nick. “Yeah.”

“Nothing for me.” Jada snapped. Nick left to get our drinks. Jada turned to me. 

“I remember you,” she snarled. “You and your bitch friend wrote an article about how I push anorexia on teens or whatever." 

"I may have.”

“Fuck you.”

“No thanks. I hear you’ve been everywhere, and catching a venereal disease just doesn’t appeal to me.”

“Look, so I’ve blown a couple guys to get what I want. What does it fucking matter?”

“You literally set feminism back ten years every time you do it, so-”

“Oh, please. We both know feminism is for fat ugly girls.”

I was opening my my mouth to reply when Harry jumped in. Nick had brought back our drinks, and I took a gulp of my gimlet, the alcohol both soothing and increasing my anger

“So, Jada.” Harry said, “I hear you’ve signed with Chanel.”

I nearly choked on my drink. “Yeah, I have.”  Jada sneered. “They took some persuading, but I’ll be in their fall shoe campaign.”

“Is that so?” I asked “I hear their shoes are pretty uncomfortable to kneel in.”

Now it was Nick’s turn to choke on his drink. “I think I’ll go see how Alexa and Daisy are doing.” he turned and walked away.

“Okay, what is your fucking deal?” Jada shrieked. “Do you know who I fucking am?”

“Unfortunately, I do.” I replied, my own voice rising. “You’re a pampered brat who steps on and shames others and uses her body to get what she wants. You give women a bad name, and you have no problem with that. That’s who you are.”

“Okay,” I heard Harry’s voice in my ear and felt his hand grasp my upper arm and firmly pull me toward the exit. We stood in the upstairs hallway. My chest was heaving with anger, and Harry’s cheeks were rosy with the same emotion.

“Alright.” He spat. “You can make fun of me. But don’t ever be rude to my friends again. Ever.”

“Jesus, you call someone like that a friend?” I snarled. “What, is it some form of penance?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but I interrupted. “Y'know what? I’ll just go. But if you think for one fucking second that that cunt is worth your time, then my impression of you is already off to a disappointing start.” I turned to leave, but Harrys hand still on my arm stopped me. He pulled me close to him, our faces inches apart.

“Just because I prefer to see the good in people doesn’t mean I’m a bad person Elodie,” he hissed. I snorted in his face.

“If you can see any good in that bitch, then you must have x-ray fucking vision.” I hissed back. I then yanked my arm away and stalked down the hallway and stairs, ripping my phone out of my purse and dialing the number for the cab. 

Twenty minutes later, I was back at Harry’s, wrenching his door open with the key he gave me. Steinem looked up from one of his toys and padded over to me, nuzzling into my hand. I absentmindedly petted him before stomping upstairs and showering, swearing under breath the entire time. By the time I was scrubbed clean, I was still seething. How could he stick up for that brat? Goddammit! Stomping downstairs, I ripped open Harry’s fridge, looking for something, anything sugary and fattening. All I could find was soymilk and veggies. Slamming it closed, I opened the freezer side, finding nothing remotely close to what I was looking for. Just as I was about to give up, something caught my eye, hidden behind a package of frozen berries. I tore it away to see six different kinds of Haagen-Dazs. I snickered gleefully and grabbed a pint of Vanilla Caramel Brownie. I also grabbed a glass of and poured myself some wine from Harry’s vast cellar. Just because I was in a different country didn’t mean I had to skip my cheat day.

I climbed the stairs with my prizes and settled into my bed, setting up Netflix on my laptop. After finishing the ice cream, wine and three episodes of American Horror Story, I stated to get drowsy. I turned off my laptop and made sure everything was packed and ready for the next morning before nodding off.

———————————————————————-

 After Elodie left, Harry  tried to soothe Jada’s ruffled feathers, but after thirty seconds of talking to her, he realized Elodie was right. Jada was a bitch. She couldn’t stop talking, and all she did talk about was how jealous people were of her and dropping innuendos. Harry finally managed to excuse himself to talk to Nick and Alexa.

“Where’s Elodie?” Nick asked.

“She and Jada got into a bit of a spat, so she left.”

“I should’ve stayed around to watch that.”

“Real nice, Nick.”

“Oh come on, Harry.” Alexa groaned. “Jada’s awful and we all know it.”

“Also, Elodie is seriously fit. You gonna get on that?” Nick asked.

“She’s not a that, Nick. She’s a her.” Harry said. “A her that I barely know.”

“So maybe, then.” Alexa winked.

They continued talking, but Harry wasn’t listening. All he could think about was Elodie, and how she looked in that black dress, her cheeks aflame and her hair framing her face perfectly. He realized with a shock he was starting to get hard. He quickly mumbled he had to use the loo and made his way there, hoping neither Nick or Alexa had noticed his growing bulge. By the time he had reached the upstairs private bathroom, he thought he might explode. Once the door was shut and locked behind him, he yanked down his trousers and and boxers, his cock slapping against his abs. Taking hold of it, he pretended his hands were Elodie’s and began to vigorously stroke himself. 

“You want me don’t you?” she was whispering in his ear, his prick getting still harder with each syllable. “You want me on this gorgeous dick, huh?” He was still flicking his own wrist against himself, but what he saw was him slamming into Elodie from behind bent over the counter, hearing her moan with each thrust. “You want this, Harry.” she said. He thrusted faster, making her lean her head back and mewl into his ear. “Oh, that’s so good.” she cooed. “You like it, yeah?” Harry growled. “So much.” she replied. She then gasped. “Oh, Harry. I’m so-so close!” she began moaning loudly as his fingers dug into her hips, his own release drawing closer. After a few more thrusts, she shrieked and fell pliant in his arms, mumbling his ear to keep going. After one last jolt into his palm, he came. He opened his eyes to see his own sweaty reflection, his hand and the counter covered in cum. He washed his hands and used some paper towels to wipe it up. 

No one had ever made him feel this way. No woman had ever made him want to duck into the bathroom of a very posh club and wank like a teenager. Why did he even feel this way? Elodie made fun of him. She called him out on things. What was happening. Harry pulled his trousers up and splashed some water on his face before exiting the bathroom, dodging Jada before making his way to Nick and announcing his departure.

“Good of you to come, man.” Nick said, clapping him on the shoulder. Harry hugged him and Alexa before heading downstairs and calling the cab. When he got home, Steinem was waiting for him in the entry, tail wagging as if this were their normal routine. 

“Hey, bud.” Harry yawned while making his way to the kitchen. Opening up his freezer, he noticed the frozen berries in front of his secret stash had been disturbed. And that the Vanilla Caramel Brownie was gone from his collection. Guess it’s not a secret anymore, Harry thought to himself as he grabbed a pint of Strawberry Cheesecake. After a few bites, he put the container back in the freezer and made his way upstairs with Steinem following. The giant dog nudged the door to Elodie’s room open, bounding onto the bed next to his sleeping owner, who didn’t so much as stir. Harry closed the door and made his way to his own bedroom, showering before collapsing into his bed, the suitcases all around him being the last thing he saw before sinking into a deep sleep. His last thought, however was how strangely excited he was to be sharing a tour bus for the next eight months with the woman across the hall from him.