I don’t even recognize myself anymore. When did my eyes become so hollow? When did they lose their spark of joy? When did this permanent frown become glued to my face? When did my dimples disappear? When did my cheeks lose their fullness?
Prompt: Reader is Bills gf, and she’s a famous book author and she’s terrified of clowns. They both support each other and are each others biggest fans so when he tells her he got the role she swallows her fear (he knows about her phobia) and helped him prepare for the role, but she didn’t want to go to visit on set; but the kids are her fans and she went to visit them one day later he tells on interviews he was scared for their relationship because of the role.
You hummed as you wrote on the computer trying to figure out what to write for your new book. You at the moment we’re having the worst kind of thing an author can go through—writers block. You had tried to start a new book but it just ended up falling apart before it could even take off.
Even the best authors such as Stephen King and J.K Rowling had writers block. According to most you were considered one of those truly best selling authors but you didn’t really think of yourself as one of the best even though that was how you met your boyfriend the Bill Skarsgård.
He was one of your biggest fans and you were of him and then one day during a book signing you met and it was pretty much love at first sight. You looked up from your computer at the tv show currently playing on the TV, Supernatural. You were on the episode with Sam and the clown.
Your heart raced incredibly fast when you saw the clown and had to look back down at the computer to avoid watching. You were terrified, TERRIFIED of clowns. When you were little your older brother and his friends thought it would be a good idea to fill the cellar full of antique life size clown dolls both made for Halloween (aka motion activated) and just for decoration.
And no, they didn’t just leave you in there for a few minutes and then just let you out they left you in there all night. You had to go to therapy for 2 years just to get over not suddenly shrieking at the top of your lungs for several minutes when you saw a clown on the tv.
Even if it was a fun colorful clown with painted dimples and mouth you still had a bad breakdown. You continued to stare at your screen and try to figure out how to even start the story.
Once upon a time?
Once upon a dream? (Reference!)
So a man walks into a bar…?
You groaned and slumped down tapping your bottom lip in thought. Several minutes had passed and you still didn’t write anything down. Your prayers were sort of answered when Bill came in.
“Hey!” He called from across the condo.
“Hey honey! How was your day?” You called.
“Amazing. You won’t believe what role I got.” He replied walking into the living room.
“Ooh is it popular?” You asked picking up your mug of coffee.
“Yeah you know that movie IT? I’m playing Pennywise.”
You instantly choked on your drink coughing and hacking and placing the mug back on the coffee table to avoid dropping or spilling it. Bill rushed over gently patting your back as you wheezed and felt the rest of the coffee go down.
“What’s wrong babe?” He asked.
Bill remembered your extreme clown fear and frowned, “I know your afraid of clowns so that’s why I came to you before I could accept.”
“Uh…yeah, I’m perfectly fine about it. Just don’t think about coming home dressed as a clown unless you want me to beat you to death with a bat.” You warned.
He smiled and kissed your head before saying, “Thanks baby. I love you.”
“Love you too.” You sighed.
He walked off and you continued to stare at the blinking cursor.
So far the IT remake had been in production for a month now and Bill was doing a pretty good job making sure to not act like Pennywise when he arrives home. The first time he did slip up was with his creepy laugh.
You both were putting the dishes away and talking when he did the Pennywise laugh and your glass slipped and shattered onto the counter. Bill snapped his head towards you and saw you were staring at him wide eyed and paralyzed like there was a clown right behind him.
“No, no it’s fine. I’m fine.” You said before walking off to get the duster. L Ever since then he’s been extra careful not to act or talk like his character.
3 months into production he had finally been able to meet the Losers kids. He talked to them when he was out of costume and when he mentioned you all their eyes lit up in a split second.
“Your dating (Name) (Last Name)???” Jaeden (aka Bill) asked.
“Yeah you know her?” Bill said.
“I love her book Deathly Dreams.” Sophia (Beverly) said her eyes twinkling. All their eyes were as they shared what books they loved the most.
“Can you please bring her down here? My life would be complete if I got her autograph and got to talk to her.” Wyatt (Stan) pleaded.
“Pleeeaaase?” All the Losers nearly begged making puppy eyes.
Bill laughed knowing he was out matched against the seven kids (both in and out of character) and calmly said, “Alright, alright. I’ll try to get her down here.”
They cheered and Bill frowned hoping you’d be up for it. Maybe if he just tried to avoid you in costume like he did with the kids you’d be fine.
Later that night he bit his lip as he came home to find you were sitting in front of your computer typing your book.
“Hey sweetie.” He greeted kissing your head.
“Hey honey.” You replied picking your head up for a lip kiss instead.
He eagerly did and sat down next to you gently rubbing your shoulders making you look at him concerned.
“What?” Bill asked.
“Are you okay?” You asked.
“No your just looking tense.” He replied.
“Well how did filming go today?” You asked turning your head to continue to type.
“Good. I uh…talked to the kids…and they’re actually big fans of you.”
“Really?” You asked snapping your head towards him.
“Yeah. They were fangirling over you.”
“Awww that’s so sweet.” You giggled.
“Well…um…they also wanted to see you.”
Your smile faded slowly realizing why he was doing that. He wanted you to come onto the set to see the kids but…he would be in his character and…oh no.
“I mean you don’t have to we can just-”
“N-No it’s fine, I’ll go. I mean I kind of always wanted to see a movie behind the scenes with my own eyes. Maybe it’ll help me with this stupid book.” You said.
“Bill, I’ll be fine.” You assured him.
“Alright.” He sighed.
The next day you went in with him and got to meet the director Andy who was also a big fan of your books. He lead you over to where the children were for makeup and as soon as you walked in they recognized you and nearly tackled you in a hug fangirling.
“Oh my gosh your (Name) (Last Name)!” Jack (Eddie) squealed.
“Yes I am.” You smiled feeling like you were floating in space.
A famous horror movie director and 7 soon-to-be famous kids loved your books?
You took selfies with them, signed their books, talked to them, until you needed to use the bathroom. Good news was you were in a warehouse so you didn’t have to do your business in the woods or in a porta potty.
Bad news was you were lost trying to find your way back from the bathroom.
You were sure you had gone too far deep into the warehouse and now were wandering around the creepy place looking everywhere. You couldn’t find anyone to ask where you were so you were alone, becoming scared, and confused.
You sighed as you continued to wander your footsteps echoing. You heard the sound of laughter and shuddered remembering that laugh. A clown’s laugh. It sounded so familiar to the one over a decade and a half ago when you were in the cellar. Your heart was racing as you tried to get away from the source of the laughs.
Fear was overtaking your mind as you hurried to find your way out looking left and right. The echoes only seemed to be getting closer but you couldn’t tell if it was you or the thing releasing the laughter going closer.
You finally came into a room and your blood ran ice cold and your heart seemed to stop dead. Standing there was a clown. Your brain was so filled with fear that it didn’t recognize that it was Bill.
If anyone saw him really unless they knew they wouldn’t be able to recognize him underneath all the makeup. You surely didn’t. When the clown turned to face you your skin turned paper white and your breath was trapped in your throat.
“(Name)?” Bill said in his real voice.
He started walking towards you and you took several steps back before running.
“(Name)!” Bill called.
He watched as you ran as fast as you could which was faster than him.
“(Name)!” He called.
“Leave me alone!” You screamed.
You ran into a closet and slammed the door shut hyperventilating. You ran your fingers through your hair and curled up in the corner feeling incredibly dizzy and sick.
“(Name)? (Name) please, where are you?” He asked.
You weren’t able to reply back gasping too hard. It hurt to breathe. You heard the knock on the door and you shuddered, “(Name)? You in here?”
“Bill I’m so scared.” You sobbed.
“(Name), it’s just me. Okay. I’m dressed as Pennywise but I’m not going to hurt you. Okay?”
“Can I come in?” He asked.
“(Name), I need a yes or a no…”
You took a deep breath before firmly replying, “Yes.”
The door opened and you squeaked and curled in on yourself. Despite this Bill walked over to you and knelt down in front of you.
“(Name), please don’t be scared. It’s me Bill.”
You slowly opened your eyes but you could still only see the clown. Your heart was pounding so fast your body had told you to get up and run but Bill was quicker and pulled you to his chest in a hug. You frantically panicked nearly hyperventilating as you tried to get away.
“(Name), it’s just me. It’s just me.” He whispered comfortingly.
He took off his silk glove and reached up to his eye before taking off one of the yellow contact lenses revealing his actual blue-green ones. You gradually relaxed and leaned onto his chest.
Under all that latex and makeup you could still smell his cologne letting you know it was indeed him. You wrapped his arms tightly around him taking slow breaths to calm yourself down.
“You okay now?” He asked after a few minutes.
You nodded and he smiled and nuzzled your forehead since he’d smear his lipstick.
“You actually helped me get over my fear of clowns.” You said softly.
He smiled and leaned down to kiss you. When he pulled away he couldn’t help but smile noticing your lips were tainted a light red. Bill placed his eye contact back on and you shuddered but otherwise didn’t run away.
“I love you.” Pennywise said softly.
“I love you too.” You giggled, “And your little clown nose too.”
“Yeah I brought my girlfriend who is like terrified of clowns to the set to ya know meet the kids and, um, she ended up getting lost and found me when I was deep in character as the clown and…yeah I scared her really badly. I thought she was going to break up with me but she didn’t…. I have the best girlfriend ever…”
Epilogue: I really liked this prompt idea cuz I’m terrified of clowns and like Bill is equal parts sexy and scary. Idk that’s just me. Thanx for reading! :3!
(A/N) WAZZZZZUPPPP GUYS! Your gal is back at it again with that smutty smut and with her ultimate bias too! That’s right, more yummy Jaehyun for everyone, and this time it’s a college AU. Hope you like this one, I really had a blast writing it!
P.S. ISN’T THIS THE PERFECT GIF FOR THIS STORY??? WHEN U FINISH READING TELL ME IT’S NOT LIKE???
It all started at the end of the first semester of your sophomore year in college. The glances that were snuck from the corner of the eye, watching from your peripheral vision each other’s movements, the strategic sitting for the best view. It was innocent at first, just simply checking one another out due to curiosity. You barely knew him at all; knew that his name was Jung Jaehyun and he was a first semester junior majoring in music and fine arts with many obnoxiously talented friends.
this has absolutely no plot. none. i wanted to make it that way, but i knew if i did i’d make another series and no one wants that right now. i know all you dirty bastards want is sex. i know i do.
warnings(prepare this is a long list i just wanna be thorough): sex, cunnilingus, rutting, multiple orgasms, rimming, slight!anal, fingering, oral(giving/receiving), dub/sub, dub-con, slight blood, biting, slapping, kind of abuse, deep throating, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), talk of impregnation, breeding kink, REALLY ROUGH a lot of kinks okay? just all together really fucking filthy raunchy fuck me running smut. i really wouldn’t advise reading this unless you need mental help like i do. please.
A hopeless, helpless, absolutely fucking pathetic fool. But oh, did playing the fool pleasure you in various ways, words not having the glory to ever come close to explaining.
How he would look at you, a single glance searching through a crowd of people and your lungs would constrict, drowning in his raging ocean. A flick of his wrist, a feathery touch of his talented knives. A single word from his sharp tongue, rolling like thunder to your ears would have you on your knees in a matter of seconds. You were a fool each time for following his careful gaze; when his expression would be light, calling in a frightened animal to his jaws, comforting as he would ghost his fingers over the skin of your neck. His trap was laid out clear, not covered by any disguise, and you would kneel into it every time with open arms.
How could you not?
It was simply nature, you’d like to tell yourself, a false hope on the wings of a flightless bird. He held power, so much power in his tanned hands, and it was not an option to follow your Alpha’s command
— or any for that matter. It was etched into your soul, your very core that dripped with slick down your thighs as you inhaled deeply, his rough fingers gripping your hair tighter, guiding your head downwards. There was no need to command you, you were all too willing to spread your legs for Ivar the Boneless, no matter the condition, but he was sick, enjoying it when you put up a little resistance as though you could actually think for yourself.
There was nothing too it, and yet, it was everything you lived for, your nose digging into his pelvic done as your forced your head down, your skull pounding under his grip. You couldn’t help but whimper just at the scent of him, how it surrounded you, ate you like a wild beast in the night, and with every passing noise that escaped your mouth, he would only laugh. He knew, of course he knew, opening your jaw as wide as you could, glancing up at his sharp features through your lashes, there was nothing but lust in his expression as his nostrils flared and your hips rutted against the air.
You were disgusting, you knew, groaning in pleasure as he wrapped a hand around his cock, wiping the head of it around your swollen lips and tapping it along your outstretched tongue. “Fuck, just look at you..” Just his voice caused your eyes to roll in the back of his head, and the way you thighs quaked you could of come undone as he slid into your watering mouth. You wasted no time, whinning around his taste, never getting enough of his smell as you began working on him; bobbing your head up and down, swirling your tongue and sucking on him like your life depended on it. “That’s right, little lamb, just like that…” Ivar praised, a growl resonating in his bare chest, and you sneaked a peak up, watching his muscles jerk as her moved.
Despite the hot saliva dripping down your chin, you met his gaze and held it as you continued to take him deeper and deeper — a dangerous move, connecting eyes with an Alpha, but the curl of his lips, mixing with a snarl only egged you further. He loved it when you watched him, when he could see into your soul as you swallowed him down, as you choked on him. “So beautiful. Gods, I trained you so well..” And he pushed deeper, forcing you to do just that, water building in the corner of your eyes as he held himself there, listening to your struggled gasps and gurgling around him.
Holding your life in his hands was his ultimate pleasure.
“Take it all, you whore.”
You keened, curling in on yourself as his pulled back, allowing yourself to breath for only a moment and a damn inside of you broke, your juices flooding the floor around you before he began fucking himself into your mouth. Ivar laughed, thrusting up with harsh, deep movements, keeping a slow pace and holding himself deep for several seconds at a time. Just that one word rolling form his mouth, and he knew all of your secrets, your fantasies that you had shared with him. “Did you cum already? How boring
— you filthy fucking Omega.”
There was nothing that excited you more than listening to him degrade you, put you down, and own you like you were nothing. “Almost useless,” He hissed, yanking you off his slick cock, forcing you to arch you neck at the angle he held you. Mouthing hanging open, you listening to him groan and his neck crack, looking at the pre-cum and spit that rested all around your mouth. “Maybe I should throw you to my brothers, just like this and see just how many times you can cum…” The snarl on his mouth was cruel, and his hand moved from your hair to your cheeks, squeezing them together and pulling your forward by your face. “Would you like that, you little slut? For me to toss you on your hands and knees, all needy and drenched in your slick, your scent attracting my brothers as they used you liked animals one by one until you were nothing but a cum soaked disaster?”
You were drowning, and there was nothing to save you, but your skin was burning as fire licked at every inch of you. You body jerked, quivering at the thought, only moans falling between your lips as you opened them to answer him, knowing Ivar loved it when you used your little voice. When you whined, and begged, told him everything you were thinking and feeling. Everything you wished he would do, only to have him punish you for ordering him around. But tonight, oh tonight, it failed you. There was no pleasure or amusement in him now, his head pulling back before jerking forward, and something warm splattered on your cheek where bruises would surly show soon. “What was that, bitch? Use your words.”
“N-no..” You whimpered, keeping your hands on your thighs obediently, digging your nails into the thick flesh there, wanting nothing more than you reach out and touch him — to remind him that he was all you wanted, all you had, all you ever needed.
“No?” Ivar echoed, quirking his brow and the corner of his mouth twitched up, the dimples displaying a false innocence in his smile.
You shook your head the best you could despite his vice grip, another whine erupting from you, your legs slowly spreading out as you began to rut against the air. Your back arched, baring yourself to him, submitting once more and he loosened up, allowing you to speak. “O-only you, Alpha. Want only you, only your cock..”
He hummed for a moment, his tongue darting out over thick lips, head tilting to the side as he kept a cap on his hormones, despite the clenching you could see the quivering of his muscles, and you knew he wouldn’t last much longer. “Prove it.”
Shock came over your features, and for some reason, you could feel pain erupt within your body. It was no secret that Ivar did not trust anyone, but you? You had given him everything you had, and more if possible. You would give him the world on it’s knees if you had the strength to do so. “What?” Came a dumb reply, your eyes widening.
“Are you deaf?” Exhaling sharply, like a dry laugh, he let go of your face completely, confusing you thoroughly until you were tossed to the side, a burning sensation creeping across your face and tears welled up in your eyes. But if only, it seemed to fuel the slick dirtying your body and the lust pooled in you belly. “If you make me repeat myself one more time tonight, bitch, you will be sleeping outside with the real dogs.”
Reaching down, you whined at his threat and the new grip he had on your hair, pulling you up and forward until you were on your sore knees, the wood work causing them to scrape and bleed. Again to night, you were at his face, but he only hissed at you, bringing up his free hand to stab his finger against your skull. “Since you are obviously too fucking stupid to understand…” Came his snarl, causing you to flinch as his breath ran over your nose and more slick leaked down your legs. “I want you to prove to me that I am the only one.”
Never would you admit it out-loud, but for a split-second, the tone in his voice changed as did the look in his eye, causing a part of you to fall further under his spell and soften, but it was gone as quickly as it came, and he was ready to snap again. “Anything, Alpha
— anything you want.”
“If you are true to me
— you will bare my mark…” He murmured, running the tips of his fingers on his free hand across the mating gland that rested on your neck, but it trailed down past your hardened nipples, to your womb. “And my pups.”
Honestly, just the thought of those two things could of had you cumming and rutting on his leg right there, which you did a little bit, causing him to grin, his hand flying down to your dripping center. Ivar wasted no time in pressing two fingers into your dripping cunt and curling them, causing you to howl in pleasure, grinding down against them, pushing them deeper. “Hmm, something tells me you’d be more than happy too.”
“Y-yes! Alpha, please, I
Pulling his fingers out, he did not remove them from your slick womanhood, only seeming to pet your cunt while he whispered a praise in your ear, listening to you come undone for the second time that night. “Such a good, good little Omega for me..”
You nodded, whimpering as he practically picked you up in his arms, your body curling around his warmth and he turned on the bed, tossing you under him, and you caught a slight glimpse of your slick glistening on his abs and arms. Resting his weight on one arm, Ivar brought up the hand that had currently been pleasing you in front of his face, his nostril flaring as he inhaled deeply, black exploding over the blue in his eyes. “You smell so fucking good…” He moaned obscenely, seemingly having trouble not sucking your juices off. Instead, he peered down at you, offering his hand out to you. “Tell me, little lamb, does it taste sweet?”
Obediently, and oh so good, your mouth opened once more, your tongue rolling forth and waiting for him. They descended with a chuckle, until your lips wrapped around the two fingers and you began to suck, swirling your tongue around them with disgusting noises vibrating against his flesh. He left them still, burning his gaze into your as you drug your head back, your teeth slightly scraping his skin and you popped of them, a string of saliva connecting you. “Not as good as you,” Your voice cracked slightly as you purred, letting your eyes droop at him.
“I can’t wait.” Watching as he continued to smile at you, confusion ran through your brain until the world around you shift with a gasp — you were once again on your knees, supporting yourself with your forearms, and his hands were spreading your legs painfully a part. Skin met skin and you squealed, surging forward until blunt fingers dug into your burning ass. “Do not let that ass drop until I tell you.”
There was no chance to reply when you mouth fell open, a scream erupted from your lips as he began to feast on your succulent cunt, drinking the nectar that poured from you, only for him to drink. But you were burning, sweat slicking your skin as you quivered and shook, your fingers clutching onto the soft furs below you for your life. You could not help the gush of slick that came from your core quickly. He had done so much to you already, teased you, plucked at you, explored you, those things he would say to you. But you had to bury your face forward and shove your back to keep it from falling to the bed, wanting nothing more than to please him. But one orgasm would not stop him from eating like a starving man, despite how sensitive you became.
How he managed to hold out so long, you would never know, but all of the frustration that he would allow to build up, would have you fucked limp by the time he was done with you.
The sloppy sounds of his mouth on your cunt only pushed you on, especially when he pulled back and inhaled shakily, his fingers digging into your flesh to pull you a part even more, causing a slight pain as the skin around your womanhood stretched. “So fucking delicious, little lamb
— could have me cumming before I even get to split you open…” And he continued, once more, his hands exploring every part of your lower body again, even pressing the tip of his thumb against the tight hole right above his destination, letting out a horrific chuckle as you squealed and almost jerked away.
Twice more, he pulled back, and despite how worn you were, your body shaking like an earth-quake, your vision shifting, you looked back over your shoulder to see him caressing your thighs. His face was drenched in your slick, but his tongue just didn’t stop licking the area around his lips. Ivar leaned forward, pressing his hands flat beside your body, and his slick chest slid perfectly against yours as you both met, sloppy tongue and teeth clashing over your shoulder, moaning into his hungry mouth as you tasted yourself on him.
This was the moment you lived for, a weak hand trailing up cautiously and he allowed you to thread your fingers through his thick hair, whinning into your mouth as he met you with growls and moans, the both of you rutting back and forth against one another, and he was so painfully hard against you.
“Are you ready, my little Omega? Ready to fully become mine?” He asked, nipping harshly against your shoulder, and it jerked as a bit of skin broke. His tongue lapping over the tiny wound. This time, there was no punishment for not verbalizing you answer, only him praising you for being so good as you sobbed in pleasure, his cock stretching your cunt open in the most delicious of ways. There was nothing holding him back down as one hand gripped the back on your throat like a vicious dogs mouth, shoving your deep in the bed. He held you both there. “You feel this, slut?” He growled, rutting his hips, pushing himself deeper than you thought possible. “Every inch of me is inside of your soaking cunt, and it’s going to stay there until you’re filled with my knot, and my seed is drenching your womb…”
You only cried, tears spilling from your eyes as he began to move, snapping his his against yours, the sound of his skin beating against your ass as he moved, his nails digging into your neck, leaving red marks that burned in the sweat. “Can’t fucking wait!” Ivar roared, seeming to pick up the past, bruising you against him now. “Gonna fill you up, fucking breed you like the needy little bitch you are!”
Normally you would last longer with Ivar, but tonight was special. Tonight you would give him everything you had, even as you came for the umpteenth time that night, screaming out his name and his title, listening to him resonate a cruel laugh around the room as he dropped forward on you. You fell forward as well, you body jerking in the aftermath of another orgasm, and your eyes rolled back, but he continued his onslaught, pinning you beneath him. How long he was at it, you did not know, losing track of time among the tangled and sweaty bodies you were, you lost where he ended and you began.
The only thing that mattered to you was the swelling on his knot, and the teeth that scraped over your mating gland. You begged, thrashed, tried to plead at him to do it, promising to stay with him forever. You never want another. Never.
It was when he bit down, did you finally see a bright light, you felt another heartbeat in your chest and millions of emotions rushed through your body, filling you to the brim and your mind exploded, more tears cascading down your cheeks as his movements stops, a howl escaping his mouth as his warmth spilled inside of you. He collapsed, still connected to you, and when you could finally think straight again, you were on your back with his hands gently trailing your body, his mouth leaving tiny worships along your skin.
Groaning as you joints screamed and ached at you to move, he looked up from your stomach, his blue eyes filled with slight concern, your fingers carding through his hair. “Are you alright?” Ivar murmured, completely changing from what he was moments ago.
Giving him a lazy smile, he crawled back up your body, sweetly kissing your lips, and pulling you to curl against his chest. “I have never been better, Ivar,” You assured him, bringing your hand down to cup his cheek, watching as he leaned into your touch.
It was his turn to stroke your hair, his mouth running along your temple, his lips curling up. “Allow me to clean you,” He offered.
You simply shook your head, not wanting him to leave you just yet, even if it was only for a moment. Curling in closer, you nuzzled under his chin. “Want to sleep in it.”
Summary: An ideal fourth date in February? Simple. A cup of coffee and maybe a confession or two that Chris has been keeping from you for long enough. He couldn’t wait another moment to tell you that he saw as the stars aligning for him; the moment he met you.
“Because! Come on, what’s the worst that could happen?”
“I give you something that you’re allergic to and you die on my account and your fans stampede to my house and then they kill me too.”
“You’re quite creative…”
You shrugged and looked down at your dirty boots, “Some would call me cynical.” Chris smiled and just shook his head laughing quietly to himself. “Well, cynically creative it is then.”
A small smile on your face. He just grins down at you then looks up at the menu.“Okay, well I’m only allergic to two things; Shrimp, and Cats. So if you find a shrimp cocktail on the Starbucks menu, I suggest you divert to another food.” A giggle flew out of your mouth, making the two dimples on the apples of your cheeks strike Chris’s eye. He looked in your direction as you stared up at the menu above the Barista when he saw the beauty next to him chuckling at his allergies. Chris looked at you, with a spark in his eyes, “What!”
“Shrimp? Really? Interesting…”
“Oh, well Ms. Perfect, what allergies do you have?”
“I’m allergic to men who wear t0o much Axe body spray.” Chris bellowed out a laugh and didn’t receive a wink of attention from anyone inside the cramped Starbucks.
It was a busy Monday morning in Manhattan, people didn’t have time to glare at the happy couple on a weird ‘eight in the morning on Monday’ date.
Slinging his arm over your shoulder, Chris brought you closer as soon as you two finally reached the register. Suddenly it felt a hundred degrees hotter in here than it did a second ago.
When you ordered for Chris you decided to get him an Americano iced, with milk and one sugar. Adding a cake pop to your order, much to Chris’s amusement. He knew that you’d steal it from him later.
“I’ll have a Venti, Iced Caramel Macchiato with skim milk, and one slice of lemon bread to go, please.”
Your mouth must’ve hit the dirty Starbuck’s floor once he finished his order. You looked at Chris and saw he was amused by your expression when he glanced down at you, out of the corner of his eye.
“How the hell did you know that was what I liked?”
“Babe, we’ve gone on three dates and I’ve known you for what, a year now? If it’s mid-spring, and you aren’t wearing a jacket it’s an Iced Caramel Macchiato with skim milk, but you hate the thickness of regular milk, and lemon bread because it’s fucking awesome. No matter how much hate lemon bread gets, you’d defend it to your last dying breath.”
“I just don’t understand why this generation has no respect for lemon bread. It’s disgraceful!” Smiling down at you, he rests his head on top of yours as you two wait for your orders to be filled in the sea of busy Bostonian’s.
“So, what does your daily horoscope say today…” He peaked over and smiled, leaning back so people couldn’t get a good look at his face. He didn’t want to be recognized on your date, he wanted it to be just you two.
“What does it say?”
“Well, Miss. Aquarius, you are having a five-star day- and hey! So am I, the Gentle and Genuinely Handsome Gemini, if I may add.” Rolling your eyes, you put your hand on your hip, rolling your hand forward for him to continue. “It says; Wait for opportunities to come your way. You are waiting for a sign but you will not receive one unless you shoot for your goals. You are going to cross paths with…” He pauses for a second and smiles, leaning back as he looks at you. “What? I’m gonna cross paths with what?”
“The love of your life.” He says quietly.
You stopped for a second, and don’t even care when your name is rung out, “Order for Steve and order for James.”
Your eyes are wide, even while Chris moves to grab both your orders, “It says that?” Chris nodded, bringing you the lemon bread and iced drink.
“Well, what does your’s say?”
Chris sighed in content, pulling the door to the streets of Pant Suits and Cabbie’s yelling at one another. As the harsh winter air hit your faces, the breeze takes your hair back. Brushing the curly strands off of your shoulders that we’re covered in a simple black peacoat. “It said, ‘Gemini, you have already met your one and only. Don’t let them walk away without telling them how you feel or it will haunt you. You’ll regret it the moment they turn away into another lover’s arms.’”
Smiling down at you while you two start the short walk back to his apartment, Chris couldn’t help but a breath escapes him at the side of your perfect, pinched pink cheeks and puckered lips from being chapped from the vicious blowing winds. “Well do you think your horoscope is true?”
“Hell yeah…” Chris answered you coolly, although a wave of anxiety hit him when he paused for a second before shooting a glance at you and quietly repeating you back your question, “Do you?”
You don’t need to look up from your lemon bread to know he’s watching you, you could just feel the love of his eyes bearing deep into your heart, making it pump blood faster every time those blue eyes were looking in your direction. With a small sip of your drink to let the bread go down easily, you reply confidently to Chris, not even skipping a step. “Fuck yeah.”
Smiling at you no longer feels like enough for him, so letting all fucks fly into the wind, he stood in front of you and bent down to land an impassioned kiss on your stinging lips that now just felt numb. Numb with a bee’s sting of love.
Chris was kissing you at the traffic light, not bothering to worry whether the world was watching or not. When the walkers started across the street, your lips parted from each other and Chris guided you along, letting you lean on him as a bit of support. Still in shock of the electricity that now coursed through your veins bled straight into your heart. Your brain was a haze by the moment you two just shared with a thousand other people on the corner of Village Street.
Together, you walk silently now, no longer feeling the need to fill the silence. The sky was blue and the sun had risen high above you two. Feeling his hand reach yours, you hooked your fingers with his and felt them grasp stronger, intertwining his fingers with yours. Chris was clutching onto you as if he was gonna lose you in the bustling crowd. Suddenly it felt like your safety came before his own on the bustling streets.
After a while, when you finally reached his apartment, you two sat down and relax for a second with Dodger begging to play fetch with his favorite toy, a rubber turtle that didn’t bounce that bad but let Dodger get in a bit of a good exercise until you’d take him down to Berrington Park.
Chris suddenly gives you the look of the joker, with a wide grin that could almost appear as sinister. He was too cute to be sinister, though. You took a bite of the lemon bread that was barely left. You had one, maybe two bites before it’d be done. Scarfing it down in what you knew would be very unflattering paparazzi photos soon.
“You made those horoscopes up, didn’t you?” Smirking, Chris nods, taking an unauthorized sip of your macchiato. Not that you cared or anything.
“What did yours really say, Chris?”
“It said…I’d fall in love with a lemon head.” Smacking him on the arm, you giggle before surprising him and bringing him forward with your hand on the back of his head.
“Your such a clown sometimes, Christopher.”
“Some call it more sarcastic or dry.”
A soft smile fell onto your lips as you press them barely to Chris’s. He felt like a feather now laid on his lips. Setting the two drinks on the coffee table, you just barely mumbled into his kiss as those large, beautiful, slightly chapped lips brought you in, “The Sarcastically Dry Comedian it is then.”
She couldn’t tell if he was trying to prove a point to himself or her. Either way she received a text from him each day of the week following the party. Sometimes she responded, sometimes she didn’t.
She wasn’t actively ignoring him, though. She just wasn’t the best texter (a fact of which all her friends with the exception of one could attest to). She could talk and interact with someone from sunup to sundown in person, but the moment they parted ways it’s like she couldn’t bring herself to communicate. Face to face,she could read social cues and body language and just blurt things out to keep the conversation going. Communicating via text was different. There was way too much room for ambiguity. She would get in her head and read things in different tones and he wasn’t big on emojis which made things that much worse. Also, she struggled to find ways to respond to how are you, beautiful? because a) she didn’t think she was all that beautiful b) it was clear that he was flirting and c) he is Harry Styles.
She was sat in the spinny chair at her desk, legs drawn up to her chest, head resting on her knees when her phone began buzzing. She looked over and saw that it was Harry calling. It was a lot easier to ignore a text than a call, so she picked up despite the anxiety she felt swelling in her chest. “Hello?”
“Hiiiii. How are you, beautiful?”
She looked ahead blankly, before pulling the phone away from her ear and glaring at it. She knew that he knew exactly what he was doing. She wracked her brain for something to say back.
“Are you really going to leave me on read in call, too?”
She chewed on her lip for a few seconds and decided honesty was the best policy. “I didn’t leave you on read. Before you so rudely interrupted me with this phone call, my phone was in front of me and I was thinking of something to say back.”
“All I asked was how you were doing? That’s pretty straightforward, I reckon.”
“Yeah, but… you called me beautiful…”
“Because you are,” he stated plainly.
She scoffed in return. “Yeah, okay,” she responded in a sarcastic tone. “I’m fine. How are you? How’s tour? What’s up?” she fired back rapidly in an attempt to get the conversation off of her. She picked up the bottle of water sat on the desk, holding her phone in between her ear and shoulder.
“I’m good. Tour’s great. I wanna see you again,” he fired back just as rapidly. She began choking spastically, nearly spitting out the water in her mouth. “We saw each other last week.”
She could feel him rolling his eyes through the phone. “I thought we agreed we could try being more than friends.”
“I thought we agreed to after your tour is finished.”
“How do you feel about Manchester?”
She squealed. “One time I was at Starbucks in Barnes and Noble and the barista was from Manchester and we flirted and I had to stand in a corner for like five minutes to get myself together. His accent was out of this world,” she sighed dreamily.
“So… meeting guys in Starbucks is like… your thing…” Again, it was like she could see what he was doing. The smirk was evident in his voice.
“Oh, piss off.“
"So, Manchester?” he asked, bringing the conversation back on topic.
She was still caught up in a bout of nostalgia over the barista. “What about it?”
“Huh? Oh. Um. I’m not sure if I could book the time off work. Also, I don’t have a passport, so even if I wanted to I couldn’t. And, well, no offence, but I don’t think I’d be comfortable flying out of the country to see someone I met last week.” She was chanting honesty is the best policy in her head repeatedly as if it was some sort of mantra.
There was silence for a few beats. It was almost as if she could see the cogs turning in his head. “No, you’re right. I’m sorry. I wasn’t really thinking. I mean, I was, but…” he trailed off. “What about– I could– I’m not sure… This is stupid.”
“What is? It’s probably not. You don’t have to be afraid to tell me anything.” She didn’t mean to make it seem like he made her uncomfortable, but flying her out was a bit much.
He took a deep breath before speaking. “I’m off next week, and I could come down and maybe we could get dinner or something. If that’s okay with you. But, if you’re not comfortable… I don’t want to… You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. Just whatever you want.”
She chewed on her bottom lip, thinking it over for a few moments. She wasn’t sure what kind of relationship they could have or if they could have a relationship at all. She didn’t want to start something neither one of them could finish. But, dinner was doable, she supposed. It’s not like she was going to sleep with him after or anything. He kept saying he just wanted to get to know her, and she knew there was something there. It would be unfair to her and to him to continuously deny such a simple request. He wasn’t asking for her hand in marriage. He was just asking for dinner. She could do that. "I mean… if that’s how you wanna spend your time off, I wouldn’t be opposed to dinner.“
She smoothed the fabric of her dress down once more before she entered the restaurant. As she stood at the podium waiting for the hostess to confirm her as the other half of Styles’ party of two and direct her to the table, she had already spotted him out in the far left corner, running his fingers through his hair.
The lady was saying something to her, but she couldn’t hear anything over the beating of her heart. Every time her and Harry had some sort of interaction, she was riddled with nerves. They always eased with time, but she was still confident that one of these times her heart would break her ribs and pump right out of her chest. She didn’t realise they had already arrived until she was snapped out of her daze by the hostess asking if she was okay and Harry lightly grazing her hand. "Oh! Sorry. Sorry,” she said turning to the hostess, then Harry. “I was just thinking about… anatomy…” She flashed a smile to the hostess then quickly plopped down into her seat.
“Your waiter will be right out,” she informed them.
She watched as she made her way back to the front of the restaurant.
“You take an anatomy course in uni or something?”
She blew raspberries into the air, sputtering out a few chuckles trying to release some of her nerves. “No…. I just…” she contemplated telling him what was she was actually thinking about but decided against it. “I find it interesting.” She didn’t know what to say next, so she settled for awkwardly looking around the room.
“I would’ve ordered you a drink, but I didn’t know what you wanted and I didn’t want to like… overstep my boundaries.”
She frowned, not because he didn’t order her a drink but because that one comment she made the week prior obviously still has him shook. “You don’t make me uncomfortable, Harry. I just want you to know that. Also, it’s okay about the drink.”
He nodded his head, chewing on his bottom lip.
They needed to get past this awkwardness if they wanted the evening to go somewhere—anywhere. “So… the weather,” she said, a coy grin plastered on her face.
She watched his face light up, the corners of his mouth turning upwards and dimples coining into his cheeks, before he burst into laughter, then groaned, face turning a lovely shade of pink. “I hate you.”
She held her hands up. “No judgment, bro. What you do on twitter is your business.”
He chuckled softly, shaking his head at her, as she took a sip from her drink and he followed suit. The conversation flowed freely between the two from there. When she didn’t dwell on his career, things were easy. He was a wonderful bloke—respectful, clever, silly, funny—everything she hoped he’d be and more.
He was nose deep in some story about something or the other when he realised she was doing little more than staring at him, too caught up in her thoughts about him to pay attention to what he was actually saying. “Have I got something on my face or summat?”
Her eyebrows raised up before she actually processed he was saying something that required a response. “No, no. You’re just really…”
“Handsome? Hot? Breathtakingly gorgeous?” he asked, cutting her off with a mischievous smirk stuck on his lips.
Her entire face crinkled up. “Self-centered? Narcissistic? Egotistical?” He giggled then nudged her foot with his. “I’m sorry. What were you going to say?”
“I was going to say nice. You’re nice. This is nice.”
He dragged his fork through the pasta she hadn’t finished, stuffing it in his mouth, before agreeing. “Best date I’ve been on in years.”
“This is a date?” Panic swelled within her chest. She hadn’t known this was a date.
He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “I mean, you’re wearing a dress.”
Her jaw dropped. “Yeah, but, that doesn’t mean… This is– I agreed to dinner.” “Does that change anything?” he prodded.
She mulled it over in her head. Calling this little rendezvous a date didn’t change the fact that she thought he was nice and funny and respectful. It didn’t change the fact that she was having a great time. And, it certainly didn’t change the fact that he was, in fact, handsome, hot, and breathtakingly gorgeous. She’d never admit the last part out loud, though. “I guess not,” she pouted.
“So… this is, like, the best date you’ve ever been on, right?”
She snorted. “Stop fishing for compliments.” He stole another bite of her food. “But, I mean, now that this is a date… It’s pretty standard. Like dinner? Okay. What’s next? A movie? The Notebook, perhaps?”
His face lit up and he opened his mouth most likely to suggest actually watching the movie, but she cut him off before he could even get the words out.
“Absolutely not, Harold. That movie is tremendously overrated and painfully anticlimactic.”
He clutched his hand over his chest. “It’s like I don’t even know you, anymore,” he gasped.
This time she painted the smirk on her face. “And, it’s only been a couple weeks, baby. Buckle up, mate. Buckle up.”