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gigabyte-flare · 2 years ago

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Hybrid

(A Gigabyte Flare One Shot)

Summary: The year is 2123. The latest craze to hit the market are Hybrids, humans genetically engineered to have animalistic traits, born and raised to be the perfect companion. Your mom convinces you to get one since you live alone in a big city, however you get way more than you bargained for

Word Count: 3.8k

Pairing: puppy!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Pet play, dubcon, oral (f receiving), somnophilia, sex [p in v], mommy kink, breeding kink

A/N: Finally hopping on the puppy!Leon band wagon! Huge shoutout to @nexysworld for creating the adorable puppy!Leon for this fic's banner and for her and @elfven-blog for enabling me to write a puppy!Leon fic. Also lightly inspired by the puppy!Leon POV series by Nekrophil/ABP0RNS on Twitter (go check them out, their artwork is *chef's kiss*) Enjoy!

“Hybrids, the latest craze in New Los Angeles for human companionship. Humans spliced with animal DNA and raised to be your best friend! Hybrids are the perfect addition to any household! Adopt your Hybrid today at your nearest--”

You abruptly change the channel, sitting in a living room with your mom at her condo.

“Those things freak me the fuck out…” you say, mindlessly scrolling through channels.

“Hybrids? Aw, really? I think they’re cute!”

You turn to your mom, giving her a disgusted look, “really? You don’t see anything wrong with those things?”

She shakes her head, “no worse than the cyber augmentations people get, sweetie”

You watch your mom ponder for a moment, her eyes suddenly widening, “you should get one!”

“What-- Mom, no!”

“You’re in that apartment all away across town all by yourself, it’ll be good for you!”

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How you got dragged out to adopt a Hybrid is beyond you. Your mom somehow convinced you to at least go and look at what they have available for adoption. You lean your head against the passenger window and watch the sights of the city. You mindlessly listen to your mom rattle on about how excited she is to look at the Hybrids and you picking out one, which finally draws your attention.

“Whoa hold on, Mom, I never said I was buying one! I just said I would look, that’s all!” you draw your attention back out the passenger window, “besides, I can’t afford one, you know that. I’d never have enough credits in my lifetime for something like that.”

“Hun, I’m going to help you with that, don’t worry. This is for your wellbeing, after all!”

“Great…”

The large neon sign proclaiming that it was the location of a Hybrid adoption center made your stomach sink. Your mom pulls the car into the parking lot, getting out and practically dragging you out of the passenger’s side to go into the building. The reception area is a blinding white, a stark contrast to the neon grunge of the city outside. The woman behind the desk greets both of you both with a smile.

“Welcome to the Hybrid adoption center! How can I help you ladies today?”

Your mom grasps you by your shoulders, pushing you forward, “my daughter wants to see the Hybrids available for adoption today!”

“Oh that’s fantastic!” the receptionist says, her smile still plastered on her face, “what kind of Hybrid are you looking for?”

You look at the receptionist with a confused look, “what do you mean what kind?”

“Well, we have different kinds that are spliced with different animals! However, our dog and cat Hybrids are our most popular, would you like to start with one of those?”

You look at your mom for a moment before shifting your attention back to the receptionist, “um… I guess the dog ones…?”

“Great choice! Now then, I’ll notify our active adoption coordinator and have her come out to take you to see what we have for dog Hybrids, have a seat!”

You and your mom take a seat in the waiting area. You lean forward, fiddling with your fingers as you both wait. Your mom was more excited to see the Hybrids than anyone. You just wanted to please your Mom and move on. You had no intention of adopting a Hybrid. The sound of a door sliding open makes you jump as a woman with a clipboard comes out to you and your Mom.

“Are you the two ladies here to see our dog Hybrids?” she asks enthusiastically.

“Yes we are!” your mom immediately answers, practically jumping out of her seat.

The woman motions for you both to follow her, you do so reluctantly. She leads you down a set of pure white corridors before coming upon another door that slides open. Both sides of the room were lined what you could only describe as cells and you see them, the Hybrids. You expected to hear barking for some reason, but that’s not the case here. They all are saying hello and grabbing the bars that keep them in their cells.

“They can talk…?” I ask.

“Yes! Hybrids are perfectly capable of human speech! Did you have something in particular in mind for a dog Hybrid?”

“You should get a male--” Mom interjects.

“Mom!”

The coordinator just laughs, “we have plenty of males to choose from, let’s take a look!”

The first thing you notice is all of them are naked, making this whole situation even more awkward. Hybrids were quite literally people with animal parts grafted onto them; it was quite unsettling to you.

“How is this even ethical?” you whisper to your Mom.

“Stop it!” your Mom scolds you.

Most of the Hybrids were much too… eager and hyper for you, making you a little uncomfortable. It wasn’t until you got to one of the last cells when a Hybrid actually caught your attention. He, of course, was nude like the rest, but he wasn’t jumping all over the place trying to get your attention. He was laying on his back, looking up at the ceiling. He had blonde hair and blue eyes and, admittedly, he was quite gorgeous; you were bummed he was a Hybrid and not a human. He finally notices you, rolling over and smiling as he grasps the bars on his cell.

His voice is gentle, “hi there! I’m Leon!” his matching blonde tail wagging back and forth.

Something you hadn’t noticed before was that all the Hybrids had two sets of ears, their human ears and their animal ears, “do they all have two sets of ears?” you ask.

“So their animal ears aren’t actually ears, they’re simply appendages meant for cosmetics. Their human looking ears are their actual ears.” the coordinator replies, “this is Leon, he just turned 21; he’s a very calm boy, very loyal and friendly, but protective, too.”

“Oh sweetie he’s perfect for you! Look at him! He’s adorable!” your mom exclaims before speaking to the coordinator, “she lives in an apartment all by herself.”

“Oh! Leon would be perfect for you! What do you say?”

Your gaze shifts to Leon, his pretty blue eyes practically pleading at you, his tail still wagging.

You let out a heavy sigh, you can’t believe you’re actually doing this, “I’ll take him.”

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The next few days were a blur, consisting of filling out paperwork and buying things Leon would need for when he comes home. Thankfully Hybrids eat the same things humans do, so you just have to make sure you buy for two instead of just for yourself. The day came for Leon to come home to your apartment and your first order of business was getting clothes on him, having him naked all the time was just way too weird. That was proving harder than you anticipated.

“No! It’s itchy!” Leon whines, kicking off the pants and underwear you had put on him for the fifth time before curling up on the floor.

At that point you conceded defeat, you were just going to have to deal with him being naked for now. You guessed it made sense, he’s probably been naked his entire life. You watch him as he plays with a rubber bone you had bought him, immediately noticing his canine teeth were much sharper than a normal human’s would be. You look over in the corner where you had a large crate set up, it was actually at the coordinators recommendation that you get a crate for him even though the idea of putting him in it made you really uncomfortable. You’d hope you wouldn’t have to use it.

Your attention returns to Leon, who’s still playing with his bone happily, sporting this new collar you got him. It was a blue leather collar to match his eyes and had a bone shaped tag that had his name on the front and your contact info on the back.

“Leon,” you suddenly call to him, holding your hand out, “wanna play fetch?”

Leon immediately perks up onto his haunches before crawling over to you with the toy in his mouth.

You tried your damned hardest not to focus on his very large dick, even flaccid it was quite large. Again, you curse that he’s not a human internally. He drops the toy from his mouth into your hand and you reach out, giving him a scratch behind one of his dog ears. His cheeks turn red, leaning his head into your touch.

“Aren’t you a sweet boy…” you say before tossing the toy gently.

Leon chases after the toy, picking it up in his mouth and bringing it back over to you for you to throw again. You do this a few more times before Leon decides he’s had enough, he climbs up onto the couch next to you, laying his head in your lap as he stretches out across the rest of the couch, his tail making a rhythmic thumping sound as he wags his tail. You run your fingers through his hair, looking down at him.

His blue eyes look up at you and he smiles, “I love you, Mommy!”

You feel your breath hitch at his words, but you quickly recover and smile back, “love you too, Leon.”

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“Leon, get back here right now!”

You never thought you’d be starting your day chasing Leon around the living room with a pair of boxers in your hands.

“Leon, come on! My best friend is coming over and I can’t have you running around naked, at least wear these boxers for god’s sake! I even cut a hole in the back for your tail, just get over here so I can put them on!”

“No! It itches!” Leon protests, somehow managing to stay one step ahead of you as he darts around the living room on all fours.

After a while, you manage to corner him on the couch, quickly slipping on the boxers, making sure to pull his tail through the makeshift hole you had made. He starts to pull them off when you scold him.

“Leon, no! Do you want to go in the crate?”

Leon stops, pulling the boxers back up and giving you the most pathetic puppy eyes, “no, Mommy…”

“Then they stay on at least until my best friend leaves, ok?”

Leon nods, climbing off the couch, grabbing his rubber bone before climbing back onto the couch to chew on it.

“Thank you… good boy…” you say before you work on cleaning up your apartment for your best friend to arrive.

About a half hour goes by when you hear your phone go off, a notification displaying that there is someone at the door. With a couple of taps on your phone, your best friend’s face appears on the screen.

“Hey there, I’m here!” she says, giving you a big smile.

“Hang on Hailey, I’ll be right there!”

You go up to your apartment door, push a few buttons on the key panel next to the door and the door slides open. Hailey, your best friend since you were kids, comes in and gives you a hug.

“It’s been too long! What is it that you wanted to show me?” Hailey asks.

You motion for Hailey to follow you into the living room, where you find Leon still contently chewing on his bone, the boxers thankfully still on.

“Is… is that one of those Hybrids?!” the shock is evident in Hailey’s voice.

“Y-Yeah… mom convinced me to get him; his name is--”

“Hi there!” Leon sits up, his tail wagging in full circles as he looks to your friend, “I’m Leon!”

Hailey leans over to whisper into your ear, “are all Hybrids that hot?”

You elbow her, “shut up! It’s hard enough to deal with as it is without you mentioning it!”

Leon looks between the two of you, cocking his head in confusion, his tail still wagging, now hitting against the couch.

“Listen, I’m pretty sure most people fuck their Hybrids, like, look at him, how could you not?”

“Hailey, no! That’s fucking weird.”

“You’re telling me that you haven’t at least thought about it?”

“We’re not talking about this, not in front of Leon.”

Leon, meanwhile, has returned his attention to his rubber bone, chewing it aggressively when he suddenly picks up an unusual scent, one he’s never smelled before. He stops chewing, flaring his nostrils as he sniffs the air. Whatever it was, it smells sweet, almost like a wildflower. He quickly realizes that it’s you that smells like this, even though it was so faint. He wanted to get up and stuff his nose into you to take in more of this sweet smell, however, he knew he’d get in trouble, especially with your friend being here. To his dismay, you and your friend went back into the kitchen to hang out, bringing that irresistible smell with you.

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In the dead of night, Leon is restless, tossing and turning in his plush bed that sat at the foot of your bed. The smell from the other day has only become stronger over time and it was getting to Leon’s head. The smell was making his cock hard, something he hadn’t really experienced until now. It is almost painful; just him simply running his fingers along his cock made him flinch. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore, he sat up, carefully climbing onto your bed. You were laying on your back, sound asleep with your legs spread open.

Leon gently crawls his way between your legs, the intoxicating smell emanating from the spot between your legs; he notices a dark spot on your panties. Gently, he presses his nose against the wet spot, inhaling deeply as his tail wags back and forth.

That’s it… that’s where that smell is coming from…

He glances up at you, you’re still sound asleep. He gently hooks a finger on your underwear, pulling them aside to reveal your glistening cunt to him; it practically makes him salivate. He hesitantly runs his tongue over your slit, his eyes fluttering closed as he savors the taste of you. You suddenly stir, your hips shifting slightly as a soft moan comes out of you. Your eyes flutter open and you look down to find, to your horror, Leon between your legs, eating you out.

You blink a few times before shouting, “LEON!”

Taking his mouth off of you, Leon’s eyes widen as he pushes himself off the bed, letting out a soft whimper as you sit up and cover yourself with your blanket.

“In your crate!” you point to the bedroom door, your face beet red, “now!”

“Mommy… I’m sorry… I just--”

“GET. OUT!”

Leon’s puppy ears droop and his tail tucks itself between his legs as he crawls out into the living room. You follow behind him, making sure he puts himself in his crate before shutting the crate door behind him. Looking up and whining at you, his fingers grip the bars of the crate as he stares up at you, pleading to you with his blue eyes. Unfortunately, you simply shake your head at him and walk back into the bedroom, shutting the door behind you. Leon feels tears well up in his eyes as he grips the bars on the crate.

What did he do wrong? He was only doing what his instincts told him to do, why was that bad? Releasing his grip on the crate bars, he makes himself as comfortable as he possibly can in his situation, crying himself to sleep, your sweet scent still lingering in the air.

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You didn’t sleep a wink the rest of the night, between the sounds of Leon’s cries echoing through your bedroom door to just the thought of waking up to Leon eating you out disturbed you to your core. You finally get yourself out of bed, throwing on your pajama bottoms before walking out of your bedroom. You find Leon awake in his crate, his eyes red and puffy from crying all night. Upon seeing you, he immediately sits up, gripping the crate bars, his tail wagging so hard it was a blonde blur. Against your better judgment, you walk up to the crate, unlocking it to let him out.

As soon as you open the crate door, Leon bolts out, wrapping his arms around your legs, holding you tight. The fact that he buries his nose into you and deeply inhales doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Thank you for letting me out, Mommy! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ll be a good boy, I swear!”

You pry his arms off you and push him away, “Just… just go play with your toys Leon…” you say before walking into the kitchen to make yourself coffee and breakfast.

Once you have your coffee and breakfast, you practically collapse at the small dining table, rubbing your face with your hands. What are you going to do? You could start crating him at night, but something about that didn’t sit right with you. Suddenly, you feel something rest on your lap and the sound of something thumping against the floor. You move your hands away from your face to find Leon’s head resting in your lap, his tail wagging against the floor.

“What’s wrong, Mommy?” he asks, his blue eyes looking up at you, his puppy ears erect and alert.

“Nothing, Leon…” you say with a sigh, “you must be hungry. I’ll make you something to eat…”

You get up from the table and over to the stove where you make him some eggs and bacon. Once finished, you put them on a plate and set it on the floor in front of him and watch as he scarfs it down. You sit back down at the table and slowly pick away at your breakfast and take sips out of your coffee mug. You feel Leon rest his head onto your lap again. You look back down, finding him looking up at you longingly, his tail wagging insistently.

“What is it, Leon?” you ask, leaning back in your chair.

Leon doesn’t say a word, however, as he climbs up until he’s face to face with you, staring directly into your eyes, his tail still wagging. He lets out a soft whimper as he grinds his hips into the side of your thigh. You happen to glance down, greeted with his painfully hard member rubbing against you. Looking back up at him, Leon whimpers again, his hands softly caressing your arms.

“Leon… are you ok…?”

You watch as Leon swallows hard before he continues rutting himself against your thigh, his breath trembling.

“I need… to mate with you…” Leon finally replies, his grip on your arms tightening as he continues to grind into your thigh.

Your heart begins to race as very conflicting feelings begin to overtake you.

This is so wrong, you think to yourself.

That thought doesn’t stop you as you lean forward, giving Leon a gentle kiss on the lips, cupping his face in your hands. Leon deepens your kiss, his tongue dancing with yours before playfully biting your bottom lip. You stand up from the table, leading him back into the bedroom, shutting the door before you begin to undress. As soon as you're naked, Leon stands up on two feet, pushing you into the bed face first so that your backside is propped up. You feel yourself tremble in anticipation as you feel Leon climb onto the bed behind you. You flinch when you feel his cock caress your soaked slit, coating itself in your arousal before he pushes himself inside you.

“Oh… Oh god--!” you cry out as Leon’s length fills you completely, pushing into your g-spot almost immediately, your fingers gripping your sheets.

You hear Leon whimper as his hips begin to move into you. He starts out slow, but he quickly gains confidence and begins to thrust into you harder and faster, his hands gripping your hips so hard that you’re bound to have bruises later.

“Yes… oh yes, Mommy… you feel so good…” Leon moans as he pounds into you harder, “am I a good boy…?”

“Yes…” you reply in a breathy moan as your eyes roll back into your head, “you’re such a good boy, Leon… you fuck Mommy so good…”

You feel his hands grip your hips even tighter as he pulls your body to him, thrusting into you even harder, his loud moans and whimpers filling the room along with the wet sounds of your needy cunt taking him.

“Aaaaahhh… f-fill me up with your puppies Leon--!” you suddenly cry out, your pussy walls squeezing around his cock as he continues to thrust into you.

Leon growls in response, placing one of his hands onto your back to push you into the mattress as he fucks you relentlessly. His instincts are in overdrive, his thoughts completely overtaken by his burning desire to breed you.

“Oh my god… you’re such a good boy, Leon!” you praise him, completely drunk off his cock, your legs trembling as you’re filled with complete ecstasy.

You suddenly feel his cock start to swell inside you and you quickly realize he is knotting. It feels surprisingly good, making you feel full. You sit up on your knees, pressing your back against his chest as he continues to thrust into you. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, nuzzling your cheek against his as his hands find their way to the front of your body, caressing your breasts as his chin rests on your shoulder.

“I can’t wait…” Leon starts, his voice rough, “to see your belly full of my puppies.”

You repeatedly moan his name, the word fuck and good boy as he pounds his cock into you, your legs starting to feel weak as they violently tremble. Before they give way, a sudden warmth fills your pussy as he pushes himself inside you as hard and deep as he possibly can, his hands gripping both your breasts tightly as he bites into your shoulder. You let out an animalistic moan as you also cum on his cock, your greedy cunt milking his seed deep inside your womb.

Both of you collapse onto the bed in exhaustion with his length still buried inside you, ensuring that not a single drop of his cum is wasted. His arms and legs wrap around you as his face nuzzles into the back of your neck. Your whole body is trembling, completely overwhelmed by how good Leon was for you. You reach back, running your hand through his hair and caressing one of his puppy ears, whispering softly to him that he is a good boy.

You’re going to get used to this.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader smut #puppy!leon kennedy #gigabyte writes

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freshl6ve · 17 days ago

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𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒. 𝐒 | 𝐒𝐇𝐔𝐓 𝐔𝐏 & 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄⁵

⭑.ᐟ : 𝐀𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞, he floored it without hesitation. The car lurched forward as he stepped on the gas pedal, the tires of his car screeching against the asphalt, as he sped out of the area.

“Hold on tight,” he warned, his voice laced with excitement and determination. The chase was on.

We could hear the sound of approaching sirens in the distance. The cops were hot on our tails. Chris maneuvered the car through the city streets, taking sharp turns and speeding down narrow alleys to try and lose them.

I recognized the streets as we raced through them, adrenaline coursing through me. I yelled over the roaring engine, “Go down this street!”

Chris shot me a quick glance, slightly surprised by my demand, but he quickly focused back on the road. “Why?” he asked, a hint of confusion in his voice.

I could hear the sirens growing louder and closer. I had to think quick. “Just do it, please!” I exclaimed, my voice filled with urgency.

We were getting closer to the condo building, the gate coming into view. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small card, handing it to Chris. “Here, please don’t make me regret bringing you here,” I said urgently.

Chris took the card from me without a word, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. He slowed down slightly as we approached the gate, and quickly swiped the card, unlocking it and allowing us entry into the garage.

The gate slowly opened, revealing the empty garage, and Chris quickly drove the car into the space. He parked the car and we both let out a breath, the tension of the chase finally lifting. The sound of the sirens faded into the distance as we sat in the quiet garage, thankful that we had managed to shake the cops.

I took a deep breath, still feeling the adrenaline coursing through me. I looked over at Chris, who seemed to be catching his breath as well. “C’mon,” I said softly, gesturing for him to follow me.

I got out of the car, the sound of my footsteps echoing against the empty garage. Chris followed suit, slipping out from behind the wheel.

I led him over to the elevator in the corner of the garage, my heart still pounding in my chest. Chris hurriedly locked his car, making sure it was secure before joining me.

As we waited for the elevator to arrive, I pressed the button for the last floor of the condo building. I could feel Chris’s gaze on me, silently questioning where we were heading.

The elevator doors slid open and we stepped inside, the cool air of the cabin providing a stark contrast to the adrenaline-filled chase we had just experienced. I pressed the button for the final floor, and the elevator began its ascent, the whirring of the mechanics the only sound between us.

As the elevator reached the last floor, the doors slid open again, revealing another door in front of us. I reached into my pocket and fished out my keys, picking out the correct key and inserting it into the keyhole.

With a quick twist and click, the lock disengaged, and I pushed the door open, gesturing for Chris to follow me inside.

The door swung open, revealing my spacious condo unit. I stepped inside, the familiar scent of home filling the air. Chris followed closely behind me, his eyes scanning the place, a mix of curiosity and surprise on his face.

I locked the door behind us, the click of the lock echoing in the quiet space. I placed my keys on the counter, the metal clinking against the granite surface.

I watched as Chris took in the view of Los Angeles from the floor-to-ceiling windows. The city lights spread out before us like a canvas, a mesmerizing sight against the night sky.

I suddenly remembered that Matt was still out there, racing in the streets. A pang of worry washed over me. “Chris, what about Matt?” I asked anxiously, my voice filled with concern. “Did they catch him? I mean, he was racing, so they must have caught him, right?”

I started pacing back and forth, unable to sit still as I worried about Matt’s safety.

Chris leaned against the back of the couch, watching me anxiously pace. He could see the worry etched upon my face, and he tried to assure me that everything was fine.

“Y/N, he’s fine,” he said calmly. “Nick always warns us a few minutes before they actually reach the scene. Matt probably fled away from the race the moment he got the word before anyone else could.”

I stopped pacing for a moment and turned to chris, my worries still gnawing at me. “How can you be so sure?” I pressed. “I mean, he hasn’t even called. What if they caught him?”

Chris pushed away from the couch, a reassuring smile on his face. “He’s my brother, I’m a hundred percent sure he got away just in time,” he repeated confidently.

Chris reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, quickly unlocking it. He brought up his list of contacts and found Matt's name, placing the call. The dial tone sounded through the room as we anxiously waited for Matt to answer.

The dial tone seemed to go on forever as we waited for Matt to pick up the call. Finally, just as we thought it was going to go to voicemail, the line picked up. “Yeah, what’s up?” Matt’s voice came through the speaker, slightly out of breath but sounding unhurt.

I walked over to where chris was standing, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly at the sound of Matt’s voice. Chris had the phone on speaker so I could hear both ends of the conversation, and we both waited for Matt to explain what had happened.

Chris glanced at me before speaking into the phone, his voice filled with relief. “You managed to get away in time?”

On the other end, we could hear Matt's voice, slightly winded but reassuring. “Yeah, I’m at our condo right now,” he said. “Nick told me once he saw them so I managed to leave the race before anyone else could and made my way here.”

Matt's voice came through the speaker, slightly anxious and concerned. “How about you? Where are you? Oh my god, what about Y/N?”

There was a pause before he continued, his tone filled with worry. “Please tell me you took her with you. This wasn’t supposed to happen, I was supposed to take her back home. Fuck, man.”

In response to Matt’s increasing panic, Chris spoke up to calm him down. “Relax, she’s with me,” he said firmly. “We were near her condo building so we’re all safe.”

There was a brief moment of silence before we heard Matt let out a deep breath, the tension in his voice fading at the news that everyone was safe.

Chris spoke into the phone, his voice calm but firm. “Let’s just lay low for the night. The cops will forget about it in the morning.”

As they continued their conversation, I silently slipped outside onto my balcony. The cool night air engulfed me as I settled on the sofa I had out there. I buried my head in my hands, the adrenaline from the chase earlier finally catching up to me.

I sat there for a moment, trying to calm my racing thoughts and steady my breathing. The city lights glimmered below me, a stark contrast to the chaos that had just taken place below.

Inside, I could still hear the faint sound of Chris’s voice as he talked to Matt, the conversation muffled by the glass door that separated us.

After a few quiet minutes, I remained unaware of Chris’s presence until I looked up and noticed him sitting in a chair next to the sofa, separated from me by a few feet. I had been so lost in my thoughts that I hadn’t heard him come out.

I glanced at him, a mix of surprise and gratitude in my eyes, appreciating the space he left between us. The last thing I needed right now was to be crowded.

Chris spoke up, his voice gentle and concerned. “You alright?”

The sound of his voice caught me off guard for a moment, but I took a deep breath and nodded in response. “Yeah, just trying to process everything that happened,” I replied, my voice a bit shaky.

Chris chuckled slightly, his tone amused but understanding. “First time experiencing this, I’m guessing?”

I shook my head, my gaze fixed on the city lights in front of me. “No, actually,” I said quietly. Chris raised an eyebrow, surprised by my response. He tilted his head slightly, silently asking for an explanation.

I answered his unspoken question, my voice filled with a hint of nostalgia and regret. “I used to be a street racer too.”

Chris looked genuinely surprised, his eyebrows slightly raised as he processed my words. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes studying me, curiosity and intrigue dancing in his gaze.

Chris smirked slightly, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Is this the big secret you’re keeping from me?”

I chuckled softly, shaking my head. “No, it’s way worse,” I admitted. “To be honest, it’s not even a secret. I don’t really like talking about my past, but I just make it feel like a big secret.”

Curiosity still flickered in Chris’s eyes as he leaned forward, more interested in learning more about my history.

Chris nodded, a realization crossing his face as he connected the dots. “Being a ex street racer explains why you own so much expensive stuff,” he said, a hint of admiration in his voice.

I shifted slightly in my seat, a mixture of pride and embarrassment filling me. “Yeah, I guess you could say that,” I replied, a small smile tugging at my lips.

Chris couldn't resist the opportunity to tease me, it was just in his nature. However, for once, he was making me smile instead of annoyed. I almost had to wonder if I was dreaming.

He leaned forward, a curious expression on his face. “Why’d you stop?” he asked, genuinely wanting to know the reason behind my departure from street racing.

I thought to myself, the realization slowly sinking in that maybe it wasn’t so bad sharing this part of my life with him.

“Well,” I began, my voice tinged with bittersweet nostalgia. “I started college, so I couldn’t really keep street racing if I wanted to focus on school.”

Chris nodded in understanding, his expression thoughtful as he absorbed my answer. He leaned back in his chair, mulling over my words.

“That makes sense,” he responded. “Can’t blame you for putting school first. Must have been tough to give up something you loved, though.”

I shook my head, clarifying my decision. “I didn’t give up on it,” I explained. “I knew racing was still going to be an option when I entered college. I knew I was going to go back and do it again. I just wanted more knowledge on how to be better, how to fix things, to be a good mechanic.”

Chris listened intently, his gaze fixed on me as I shared my motivations behind attending college.

I continued, my determination evident in my voice. “Yeah, I know I’m good at fixing cars, but I can always do better. There’s so much to learn and improve on, and I couldn’t just be happy with where I was at. Plus, having a degree as backup never hurt anyone.”

I confessed, my voice filled with a mix of passion and sadness. “I want to open up a shop one day where I can put my skills to the test and honor my dad at the same time. He was the one who taught me everything I knew about fixing cars, and it’d be kinda like keeping his memory alive, you know?”

Chris picked up on the mention of my dad, his interest piqued. He tilted his head, silently prompting me to elaborate on the reason behind wanting to honor my dad.

Chris got up from his chair and walked over to the balcony, pulling something out of his pockets as he did so. I recognized the sound of a lighter, and soon after, the faint scent of smoke wafted through the air.

He leaned against the railing, taking a drag from the joint in his hand. “Opening up a shop sounds nice,” he commented, exhaling a plume of smoke into the night air.

Chris took another drag from the joint, the embers glowing briefly as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. He turned to me, his gaze steady and serious.

“But why honor your dad too?” he repeated, his tone cautious, aware that the question might hit a sensitive nerve. “You don't gotta answer if it’s too personal,” he added, giving me an out if I didn’t want to dive further into the reason.

I took a deep breath, feeling a sense of safety and comfort in Chris’s presence. Nate was right; Chris wasn’t always the annoying, playboy he appeared to be. But I couldn’t let my guard down completely.

“When I was little, my mom was never in the picture,” I began, my voice soft but steady. “She wanted a son, and when she found out she was having a girl, she was so devastated she left after a year I was born.”

Chris continued to smoke his joint, listening intently as I shared my story. The glow of the joint’s tip lit up his face slightly, the shadows casting a solemn look across his features.

“Damn,” he finally said, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “That’s rough. How’d your dad handle it?”

“My dad had to raise me alone, and he was the best damn father in the world,” I said, my voice filled with a mix of admiration and sadness. “He worked two jobs to make sure I had everything I needed.”

I continued my story, speaking softly but firmly. “When he showed me his love for cars, it became clear that that’s what I wanted to do. Fix them, like he did. My dad always loved helping people with their cars, he was well-known for it,” I explained, my voice tinged with both pride and nostalgia.

I paused for a moment, the memory of my father’s illness still heavy in my mind. “Everything went downhill when he was diagnosed with cancer,” I continued, my voice shaky but steadfast. “He had beaten it the first time, but the second time… the symptoms were worse.”

I took a deep breath, willing myself not to cry as I continued my tale.“When he died, it was heartbreaking,” I said, my voice cracking slightly, “but I couldn’t just sit around and do nothing. I was 17 with no family, no one to fall back on. I had to earn money if I wanted to survive. And so, I started street racing.”

I chuckled softly, a hint of bittersweetness in my voice. “I mean, if I knew how to fix cars and knew how to drive, how hard was it to earn money to race?” I added, a flicker of determination igniting in my eyes.

I spoke with a mix of pride and defiance. “I was the best,” I asserted. “Well known out there. Chased by the police left and right.”

Chris exhaled a cloud of smoke, a ghost of a smile on his face, impressed by my boldness and skill despite the circumstances.

The smoke from Chris’s joint mingled with the cool night air, creating a hazy mist around us. I continued my story, my voice filled with a sense of accomplishment. “No one could beat me. No police, no rivals, no one. They all knew my name.”

Chris extended the joint towards me, silently offering me a hit. For a brief moment, I hesitated, worry creeping in that I might fall back into addiction. But I pushed it away, assuring myself that I could control it this time then took it from his hand, raising it to my lips and inhaling slowly.

I exhaled a wisp of smoke, a mix of relief and unease coursing through me. Chris then took a seat next to me on the sofa, his presence providing a comforting reassurance.

The smoke from the joint dispersed through the air, creating a lazy cloud around us. We sat there in silence for a moment, passing the joint back and forth between us, taking turns inhaling and exhaling puffs of smoke into the night.

Chris leaned back against the back of the sofa, his head lolling slightly as the effects of the weed began to take hold. He turned to me, the haze of the joint evident in his gaze.

I confessed, my voice soft as I looked at the joint in my hand. “I haven’t smoked in two years,” I admitted.

Chris raised an eyebrow, surprise briefly crossing his face. “Really? Why’d you stop?” he asked, his tone curious.

I confessed, my voice shaking slightly with the weight of the past. “I was an addict,” I admitted, my gaze fixed on the joint. “It was the only thing that numbed my pain after my dad passed and after my best friend passed away in a car accident.”

There was a beat of silence, the room bathed in the soft glow of the joint’s smoldering tip. Chris absorbed my words, a flicker of realization crossing his face as he began to understand the depth of my struggles.

He reached over and gently took the joint from me, his touch warm and tentative. “You really shouldn’t be smoking again then,” he observed, his voice laced with concern.

I let out a weary chuckle, a hint of defiance in my voice. “I get that you’re concerned, but I’m older now, Chris,” I stated, my words filled with a mix of confidence and weariness. “I can control myself."

“I was freshly 18, and me and my best friend, who I met at school, decided to go to a meet up for my birthday,” I began, my tone growing solemn as I recalled that fateful day. “It was her turn to race, and when she was racing, a car came out of nowhere and ran into her.”

My voice cracked as I continued, the memories of that night still fresh in my mind. “The guy was drinking that night and was driving a little too fast,” I added, a mixture of anger and grief in my tone. “I was heartbroken. I had lost my only friend. I grieved so hard that I was doing the worst substances and drinking so much. I gave up on street racing, finding hatred in something that was once loved because it took my best friend away.”

I took a deep breath, my voice gaining strength as I continued. “A year later, I decided I wanted to try again. Since I was in need of the money, I went back to street racing. That night, I met Matt,” I recounted, a hint of fondness in my voice. “Matt has seen me through all the worst times. That’s why I trust him so much. From the times I couldn’t put anything down, to the times I’ve OD, to the time where I was in a bad relationship. Matt was just always there.”

My voice grew softer and more introspective, a wave of emotion rippling through me as I spoke. “I tried to push him away, but he always stayed,” I confessed, my voice tinged with both gratitude and confusion. “I never understood why.”

I took a deep breath, my voice quiet but resolute.“That’s the ‘secret,’” I confessed, my gaze steady as I looked into Chris’s eyes. “I used to be an addict, and I always hated telling someone about that part of me. That's why I didn’t want to tell you, because I didn’t know what you'd think of me now.”

I paused, the weight of my past actions hanging heavily between us. “Plus, it felt worthless to let someone else into my life, knowing what could happen if they got up and left with my secret.”

My words hung in the air, the weight of my confession settling over us like a thick fog. Chris remained silent, his face a mask of contemplation as he digested the revelation.

The silence seemed to stretch on forever, each second feeling like an eternity as I braced myself for his response. Would he accept this part of me, despite my past? Or would he leave, just like so many before him?

Chris leaned back on the sofa, his gaze fixed on the glowing tip of the joint as he took a moment to process my confession. I could see the gears turning in his head, his expression unreadable as he pieced together the puzzle of my past.

“I had no idea,” he said, his gaze never leaving my face. “I can’t lie and say it doesn’t change how I see you, a little. But it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

A wave of relief washed over me at his words. Despite everything, he was still here, still willing to accept all of me, even the messy and ugly parts.

Chris gave a solemn nod, his gaze meeting mine with understanding. “I can’t judge the way you grieve,” he said softly. “Can’t judge you, in general, when you come from a backstory like that.”

His words were gentle, but they carried a depth of empathy that touched me deeply. It was a relief to know that he didn’t see me as a junkie or a lost cause, but rather as someone who had been through hell and back.

Chris’s voice softened further, a tone of regret in his voice. “I’m sorry for pushing you to tell me something when that something wasn’t meant to be shared,” he apologized, his eyes filled with a mixture of remorse and concern. “I should’ve never put you in that position. It wasn’t fair to you.”

Chris’s expression turned sheepish, a hint of self-awareness flickering across his face. “You just popped out of nowhere, and all I wanted to do was figure you out,” he admitted, his voice laced with a mix of curiosity and contrition. “I guess I just got carried away.”

I couldn’t help but grin, a sense of ease settling over me.“Honestly, I’m glad I told you because now, you can shut up,” I joked, a teasing lilt in my voice.

Chris chuckled, a crooked grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, don’t you dare make me shut up now,” he retorted, his tone playful. “I have so many more questions for you, ma.”

Chris let out a soft breath, his tone becoming gentler.“If you don’t mind, you said you were in a relationship,” he repeated, his eyes fixing on mine. “How did that go? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

I paused for a moment, collecting my thoughts before answering Chris's question.

“Horrible,” I confessed, my voice laced with a hint of bitterness. “After my dad and friend passed away, I thought it was a good idea to be with someone.”

The memory of that relationship brought a wave of regret and anger to the surface. “I found myself trapped in a toxic relationship with a controlling and verbally abusive ex-boyfriend. He preyed on my broken state, tearing me down while parading his infidelity in my face.”

I took a deep breath, my shoulders slumping slightly as I continued. “He was a master manipulator, making me believe I was worthless and powerless to leave him. Every time I thought about walking away, fear paralyzed me. Fear of what he might do or how he might retaliate. The shame of staying with someone who hurt me so deeply only added to the self-loathing I carried.”

I looked away from Chris, my gaze fixed on a random spot on the wall as I finished my story. “It was a constant cycle of pain and manipulation. He made me believe I was nothing without him, and the more he belittled me, the more dependent I became on him.”

I continued, my voice wavering slightly as I recounted the painful memories.“It was all good at first, but I knew he was cheating on me. I even saw him kissing other girls in front of me.”

My words hung in the air for a moment, the bitterness seeping through. “But I couldn’t do anything about it because if I brought it up, it would turn into an argument. He would just call me insecure and throw a whole lot of hurtful insults at me.”

The truth stung as it spilled from my lips. “He was a player,” I admitted, my voice laced with a mix of anger and resignation. “And it was so hard to realize it because he was so good at not showing it.”

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “The breakup was the worst,” I admitted, a flicker of pain in my eyes. “But I should be grateful that I got out of it.”

I paused for a moment, reflecting on the string of failed attempts at relationships since then. “I’ve hooked up with people here and there, but they all ended up being jerks, too.”

My voice turned slightly hard, my eyes fixed on Chris. “That’s why it was hard to trust you,” I explained, a hint of past pain in my words. “Because you act just like them. And trust me, I know the type of person you are because I’ve dealt with them.”

Taking a deep breath, my eyes narrowed. “You guys just want a quick fuck and leave so you can feel better about yourself, knowing you can get whoever you want.”

“It’s all about the thrill of the chase for you, isn’t it?” I accused, my eyes searching his face. “You don’t care about me, or my feelings. You’re just trying to add another notch to your belt, a quick conquest to brag about when you’re done.”

My voice cracked as the old wounds flared up again, the pain of being used and discarded seeping back into my heart.

“I’ve seen it all before,” I said, my tone more vulnerable now. “I’ve been played and fooled, used and abused. And I won’t let myself fall back into the same trap again. Not with you, not with anyone.”

I leaned back on the sofa, the weight of my confessions draining me. A soft sigh escaped my lips as I closed my eyes, trying to regain some composure.

Chris’s gentle voice broke through the quiet, and I opened my eyes to find him looking at me with an earnest expression.

“I do care,” he said softly, his words carrying a weight of sincerity.

I turned my head slightly, my gaze meeting his as I kept my head leaned back against the sofa.

“No, you don’t,” I repeated, my voice laced with skepticism. “You say that just to say it. It’s empty words meant to soothe me and make you look better. But I’ve heard it all before, and I’m not falling for it again.”

Chris shifted on the sofa, his expression serious as he met my gaze. “I do care,” he said firmly, his voice holding a conviction that made me pause. “And I hardly ever tell anyone that I do. I'm not just saying it for the sake of saying it. I mean it.”

I shook my head, my defenses rising again. “I don’t even know why I opened up,” I said stubbornly. “I don’t need your sympathy, and I especially don't need you to feel sorry for me.”

Chris let out a soft sigh, his eyes softening as he leaned closer to me.“I’m not trying to pity you. I just… I care about you, Y/N. Can you at least believe me on that?”

My heart softened involuntarily at the earnestness in his voice, but I still stubbornly held onto my defenses.

My voice wavered slightly as I replied, my eyes locked on his. “You hardly know me,” I reiterated, a hint of doubt still lingering. “How can you care about someone you met just three days ago?”

Chris leaned forward, his eyes unwavering as he spoke softly. “It’s not just about how long we’ve known each other. There’s something about you that just… speaks to me, you know?”

He paused, searching for the right words. “Maybe I haven’t known you for very long, but in three days, you’ve made more of an impact on me than girls I’ve known for months.”

I rolled my eyes, a hint of sarcasm in my voice. “Chris, you’re high,” I retorted. “Just stop. You’re saying things you don’t really mean.”

Chris chuckled, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I’m not just saying things because I’m high. In fact, it’s kind of the opposite. When I’m high, my guard is down. I’m more honest with my feelings. And I’m being completely honest when I say I genuinely care about you, no matter how high I am.”

He studied my face for a moment before continuing. “You know, I think it’s adorable when you roll your eyes like that.”

Chris leaned in slightly, his hand reaching out to gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. His touch sent a shiver down my spine, but I quickly suppressed it, responding jokingly.

“You’re so annoying,” I muttered, trying to maintain my aloof facade.

Chris chuckled, his hand still lingering near my face. “Oh, come on. You know you secretly love it.”

He continued his light-hearted teasing, a playful glint in his eyes. “You can roll your eyes all you want, but deep down, you appreciate my annoyingness.”

I lifted my chin, meeting his gaze defiantly. “Just so you know, I don’t trust you still,” I said firmly, my voice unwavering. “Not yet at least.”

Chris raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Oh yeah?” he responded with a soft whisper tone but with a challenge in his voice.

I locked eyes with him, our faces just inches apart. His hand still lingered on my cheek, warm and gentle. “Yeah,” I said quietly, my heart beating a little faster. Up close, it was harder to ignore the effect he had on me.

Chris chuckled softly, his gaze flicking down to my lips and then back up to meet my eyes.

“You can keep trying to pretend you hate me,” he murmured, his voice husky. “But your eyes are giving you away.”

His thumb lightly traced a path along my jawline, causing a shiver to run down my spine.

I swallowed, my breath catching in my throat. His touch, his proximity, the way he was looking at me, it was all sending my heart racing.

“You’re imagining things,” I managed to respond, my voice sounding more breathless than I would have liked.

Chris’s finger continued its path along my jawline, tracing over the edge of my lip. The light touch sent shivers down my spine, my breath catching in my throat again.

“Imagining things, huh?” he said softly, his eyes never leaving mine. “So you’re telling me you’re not affected at all by me being this close to you right now?”

I tried to respond, but my words died in my throat. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through me, making it hard to think straight.

“Well... that’s just because you’re being annoying,” I finally mumbled, trying to maintain some semblance of control.

Chris chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Oh, I’m being annoying now, am I?” He shifted slightly closer, his breath now ghosting over my lips. “And what if I do something even more annoying, ma?”

My breathing quickened, my heart hammering in my chest. I could see the smugness written all over his face, and it made me want to simultaneously push him away and pull him closer.

“You wouldn’t,” I challenged, my voice barely above a whisper.

Chris leaned in, his lips mere centimeters from mine. Anticipation and excitement welled up inside me, but just as I thought he was going to close the gap, he pulled back with a sly smirk.

He stood up, strolling over to the balcony without a word. Frustration and disappointment mixed with desire within me, my eyes following his movements.

I sat there on the sofa, my heart still racing from the almost kiss. Frustration and disappointment warred with desire within me, but beneath it all was a growing fear.

I had let my guard down, allowed myself to be vulnerable in front of him. And now, as I watched him standing casually on the balcony, a part of me wondered if I had made a mistake.

The effects of the highs coursing through her system caused her voice to come out as a soft, almost pleading, whisper.

“Chris…”

His name hung in the air, an unspoken plea for his attention. He turned from the balcony, his arms resting on the railing as he glanced back at her.

“Hmm?” he responded, a question in his gaze.

I extended my hand, my finger beckoning him to come closer. Despite all the reservations and walls I had built up, I found herself yearning for him, drawn to his presence.

Maybe I had been too quick to judge him based on past experiences. Perhaps there was something about Chris that made him different. At that moment, I was willing to push aside my doubts and give in to what I wanted.

A kiss, just a kiss. What harm could it cause?

Chris smirked, sensing the shift in me. He pushed himself away from the railing and sauntered over, stopping directly in front of me. He leaned down, his face just inches away, his eyes holding a mix of mischief and desire.

“You calling me over like some sort of puppy, ma?” he teased, his voice low and sultry.

I let out a huff, the hint of a smile playing at the corner of my lips. “Don’t flatter yourself,” I retorted, trying to maintain my composure despite the fluttering in my chest.

I tugged at his jersey, pulling him closer. “Just shut up and come here.”

Chris chuckled, enjoying the way I was taking charge, despite my earlier protests. He leaned down even further, his face so close to mine that I could feel his breath against my skin.

“Bossy,” he murmured, his hand coming up to cup my chin. “I like that, ma.”

I met his gaze, the mixture of amusement and desire in his eyes causing my heart to skip a beat. Slowly, I lifted my hand, my fingers tracing a path along his chest until they reached his neck.

I caressed the sensitive skin there, my touch gentle yet firm. I could feel his pulse beating rapidly beneath my fingertips, mirroring the pounding of my own heart.

“You’re not being fair,” he breathed, his voice husky as he closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the sensation of my touch.

I smiled, enjoying the way I was affecting him. I continued to explore his neck, my fingers tracing the lines of his collarbone. “Who said I was trying to be fair?”

He leaned further into my touch, his hand coming up to cup my cheek. “You’re making it hard to stay composed, ma,” he whispered, his voice rough with barely concealed want.

“Is that a bad thing?” I replied, my voice soft as I continued my exploration of his neck. A small shiver ran through him as my fingers brushed a particularly sensitive spot, and I couldn’t help but feel a thrill at the effect I was having on him.

“Maybe,” he murmured, his eyes opening to meet mine again. “But I’m not complaining.”

He leaned closer, his lips just barely brushing against the sensitive skin of my ear. “I like it when you’re in control,” he whispered, his voice sending shivers down my spine.

Our faces were so close, and the air between us seemed charged with electricity. I was about to close the gap, to finally feel the touch of his lips against mine, when Chris spoke up.

“As much as I want this,” he whispered, his eyes fixed on mine with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat. “You’ll regret it in the morning when you’re sober.”

The words broke through the haze of desire that had enveloped me, a sobering reminder of my current state. I swallowed, a mixture of disappointment and understanding flooding through me as I nodded slowly.

“Maybe you’re right,” I murmured, my fingers still resting on his neck. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t still want it right now.”

My words came out like a whispered plea. “Don’t you want it?” I breathed, my voice trembling slightly. “I’m right here. Just take it.”

Chris’s eyes filled with want, his body tense with restraint. But he shook his head, his voice firm.

“I’m not gonna take advantage of you when you’re not yourself,” he repeated, his expression holding a mix of desire and determination. “I’m not a complete dick, ma.”

My heart clenched at his words, both frustrated and touched. I wanted him, more than anything in that moment. But he was right, and I knew it. The drugs in my system were altering my perception, making me more open and vulnerable than I would normally be. Taking advantage of that would be wrong, no matter how much I protested.

Chris’s hands were still framing my face, his eyes searching mine. “You’ll thank me for this in the morning,” he said softly, his voice filled with conviction. “I know it’s hard to think clearly right now, but trust me on this one.”

Chris took a deep breath, steeling himself. He gently released my face from his hands and stepped back, putting some distance between us.

“Let’s get you to bed,” he said softly, the desire in his eyes replaced by concern. “C’mon, ma. I’ll help you up.” He extended his hand, waiting for me to take it.

I huffed in annoyance, the frustration at the interruption to our moment mingling with the hazy state brought on by the drugs. But I knew he was right, and reluctantly, I took his hand, allowing him to help me off the sofa.

“I can walk on my own, you know,” I mumbled, my voice a bit wobbly as I leaned on him for support.

Chris chuckled softly, steadying me as we began to head towards the bedroom.

“Sure you can, ma,” he said, his tone laced with amusement. “That’s why you’re leaning on me and wobbling like a baby deer learning to walk for the first time.”

Chris led me up the stairs, his arm wrapping around my waist to provide support as we went. Once we reached the top, we were already in my bedroom, the open loft layout allowing us to head straight into my bed.

He guided me over to the bed, his touch gentle yet firm. “There we go,” he said softly, letting me sit down on the edge of the bed.

I felt the mattress beneath me and slumped slightly, the exhaustion of the day and the effects of the drugs finally catching up to me. I let out a sigh, my eyelids feeling heavy as I looked up at him.

Chris knelt down in front of me, his eyes studying me with concern. “You need to get some rest,” he said softly, his voice gentle. “Can you undress yourself, or do you need help?”

I mumbled a response, my eyelids fluttering as I struggled to stay awake. “Mmm…”

“Alright, hands up,” he said softly, his eyes firmly shut. “Can’t let you sleep in that outfit, ma.”

I lifted my arms, my movements sluggish and uncoordinated. Chris carefully helped me out of my clothes, his eyes closed the entire time to respect my privacy. He gently slid the random shirt over my head and helped me put it on, his touch careful and restrained.

I fell back against the pillows, exhaustion weighing heavy on my limbs. As I lay there, I heard Chris ask, “Can I take your pants off?”

I nodded sleepily, not having the energy to protest. Chris kept his eyes firmly shut the entire time, his movements efficient and quick. He slid the remaining clothes off me before gently pulling the covers up to my waist.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, his hand moving to brush the hair out of my face. “You good?” he asked, his voice a whisper. “You need anything else?”

Chris watched as I settled into the bed, my breathing slowly evening out. He knew I was exhausted and likely wouldn’t remember much of this in the morning.

He got up from the bed, his gaze lingering on me for a moment before he spoke softly. “Get some rest,” he said, his voice quiet. “I’m gonna crash on the couch downstairs.”

With my breathing steady and soft as I slept, Chris quietly left the bedroom. He descended the stairs and made his way to the living room, collapsing onto the couch with a weary sigh.

He spread his legs apart, leaning his head back against the cushions and staring up at the ceiling. Taking his hat off and throwing it on the coffee table, running a hand through his hair, a mixture of exhaustion and frustration etched on his face.

He closed his eyes, trying to relax and get some rest himself. But his mind kept replaying the events of the night, the memory of my soft skin under his fingers, my breathy whispers still echoing in his ears.

He knew he had made the right decision in refusing to take advantage of the situation, but part of him couldn’t help regretting it.

The exhaustion and frustration from the night finally caught up to Chris. He shifted his position, getting more comfortable on the couch. With a weary sigh, he closed his eyes, allowing himself to drift off to sleep.

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#★┊[𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒.𝐒] .ᐟ 🦌₊˚⊹#₊ 𖦹﹕𝐒𝐇𝐔𝐓 𝐔𝐏 & 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄 ₊˚꒰🏁꒱‧#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #chris sturiolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #chris x y/n #chris x you #chris x reader #chris sturniolo series #street racing au #street racing #freshl6ve

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agirlwithdemonblood · 7 months ago

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The Celebrity Next Door: Chapter 1 - Welcome to the Neighborhood

Pairings: Jensen Ackles x Reader (Written in first person, but with Y/N)

Series Summary: Y/N's life takes an unexpected turn when she moves next door to Jensen Ackles, a famous actor navigating life post-divorce. Their initial awkward encounter over a broken window leads to a budding friendship, navigating the challenges of celebrity life and forging meaningful connections in their neighborhood.

Chapter Summary: Y/N, a New Yorker adjusting to life in Los Angeles, finds herself entangled with her neighbor Jensen Ackles and his daughter Katie after a baseball mishap leads to unexpected connections and new beginnings in their shared neighborhood.

A/N: Okay, so it may be weird but I'm writing this in first person POV, but the name will be changed to Y/N. Might be annoying, but it's easier for the story. Thank you!

Series Masterlist here!! & Main masterlist here!

The sun beamed through the bay window of my living room, filling the air with the chirping of birds and scurrying of squirrels. It was a surprisingly joyful sound that welcomed me on my first real day in Los Angeles—a city I had dreaded joining.

Maybe my initial judgments were coloured by my New York roots; after all, I was unquestionably a city girl. I've always found comfort in the sounds of the city; cars honking, people scattered everywhere living their lives-that was the life I was used to. As much as I was excited about the new chapter of my life, there were qualities of LA that would take some getting used to, things that puzzled me.

Like why was it always so damn bright here? The sky, the buildings, the houses-all of it seemed to glow with an intensity that demanded sunglasses just to step outside. And why were the houses so enormous? It seemed ridiculous. I only need a bed, a bathroom and a kitchen yet here I was in what they called a condo, but felt more like a mansion with its space.

But despite my initial objection to LA’s charms, I couldn’t deny the peacefulness of the palm-tree-lined streets and the birdsong that greeted me each morning in a way New York never could.

I rolled onto my side, glanced at my phone, and sighed. 10:00 am already. There was still so much unpacking to do, and no one to help.

These first days were going to be busy. Pushing myself off the less-than-comfortable bed, I shuffled to the kitchen where the only thing I had set up so far was my Keurig machine. Leaning on the counter, I patiently awaited that first magical cup of morning coffee. Glancing outside, I squinted at the brilliant sunlight that threatened to overwhelm me. Seriously, why was it so damn bright here?

The coffee machine groaned, signaling it was ready. I turned to grab my mug when a sudden crash shattered the quiet. Instinctively, I dropped to the ground.

Peeking slowly over the counter, I discovered the cause—a baseball sitting right there on my kitchen floor, glass scattered everywhere around it.

I chuckled softly and shook my head. One thing I wouldn’t miss about New York: the reflex to duck for cover at every unexpected noise.

Moments later, the doorbell rang, nearly sending me into cardiac arrest. I approached guardedly, peeking through the side windows. A little girl stood on my porch, her expression guilt-ridden.

I opened the door, looked around for a parent nearby before crouching down to her eye level. “Hi there. Can I help you?”

Her small hands fidgeted with her zipper nervously. “I… I accidentally hit your window with my baseball. It’s inside your house.”

I smiled warmly. “It’s okay. What’s your name sweetie?”

Her eyes glanced up slightly, a light sniffle coming from her nose. “Katie."

“Well, Katie, I’m Y/N. Let’s go get your ball, alright? Are your parents around?”

She looked around and shook her head. “My daddy’s inside. Mommy’s not here.”

I nodded, retrieving the ball and returning to find Katie waiting patiently on the porch. I couldn’t help but giggle at her adorableness. Despite the broken window, I looked forward to having children around, filling the street with laughter and play.

Carefully navigating the scattered glass, I handed Katie her ball. She beamed up at me as I closed and locked the door behind us. “Where’s your house? I’ll take you back to your dad.”

Katie pointed to a massive white house next to mine, surrounded by a high fence and perfectly kept lawn which only peaked my curiosity.

Following Katie to her gate, I watched her disappear inside the house quickly, calling for her dad to come to the door. I waited patiently and suddenly anxiety filled my chest at the concept of meeting my new neighbour in this way.

It took a few minutes, but finally the little girl returned with a larger figure I could barely see from where I was standing. He approached the door and with every step he took towards the light, the more my breath got caught in my throat.

I knew him—or at least recognized him from somewhere. His piercing green eyes met mine, and suddenly it clicked: Jensen Ackles. I struggled to maintain composure, reminding myself he was just a person like me, despite my heart threatening to burst from my chest.

“Can I help you?” His voice was direct, cutting through my nerves.

I managed a polite smile, trying to gather my thoughts. “Hi... I just moved in next door. Your daughter accidentally threw a baseball into my kitchen window, and she came over to...”

“Katie!” His sharp voice interrupted, causing me to jump. He turned to his daughter, arms crossed. “What did I tell you about throwing the baseball around? This is the third time this month!”

Katie’s eyes dropped, on the verge of tears. I wanted to comfort her or maybe scold Jensen, but I knew nothing about parenting. Still, seeing him yell at her harshly made my anxiety rise.

The worst part of this whole situation though, was the way he was glaring into my soul, arms still crossed, a deep frown on his face. It felt like the very essence of my being was completely ruining his day.

He sighed, leaning against the doorway with a hint of apology in his eyes. “Is that all, or is there something else?”

I faltered, sensing his impatience. “Uh, no, that’s it, I guess.”

“Okay. Thanks, bye.” With that, the door closed, leaving me staring at the wooden texture of my first celebrity encounter.

As I walked back to my house, I couldn't stop the sadness that crept in. It was my first day, and it had already started roughly. I wondered if I would ever warm up to this place.

An hour later, most of my boxes were unpacked, clothes neatly put away away, and a single family photo hung in the hallway that was taken at a family reunion over a year ago. Our family wasn't the photo taking type, and that's one thing I vowed to change, because as I stared at the empty wall with the lone photograph, I felt sad.

But when I looked around my spacious new home, I felt a sense of relief. The morning’s drama and anxiety had faded away.

I grabbed my coffee and stepped onto the front porch, sinking into the swing that came with the house. Examining the neighborhood, I noticed kids playing—biking, rollerblading, and drawing with chalk.

My gaze landed on Jensen’s front yard. Katie was there, playing with a little boy who looked just like him. Jensen was noticeably absent, which didn’t surprise me.

I headed out to collect my mail, when I heard a familiar voice calling my name. My heart warmed as Katie waved at me from her yard. Returning her wave with a smile, I realized maybe I wouldn’t hate this place after all.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Chapter 2 coming soon stay tuned!

Like, comment, and reblog, feedback is my fuel 💕

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #supernatural one shot #dean x reader #dean #spn fic #jensen's smile #deanwinchester #spns #jensen ackles x you #jensenxyou #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x reader #jensen and danneel

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brian-in-finance · 5 months ago

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Instagram

•••••

WHAT THE STARS ARE SAYING

Check out why so many famed actors use Backstage

Trusted since 1960

Founded in 1960, Backstage has a storied history of serving the entertainment industry. For over 60 years Backstage has served as a casting resource and news source for actors, performers, directors, producers, agents, and casting directors.

Over that time, Backstage Magazine has also appeared on numerous TV shows, such as “Mad Men,” “Entourage,” “Glee,” “Oprah,” NBC's “Today” show, Comedy Central's “@Midnight”, NY1's “On Stage,” and “Saturday Night Live,” as well as multiple mentions on shows like “Inside the Actor’s Studio,” “Girls,” and appearances in films such as “13 Going on 30,” the Farrelly brothers' “Stuck on You” and Spike Lee's “Girl 6,” and even a mention in Woody Allen's short-story collection “Mere Anarchy” and Augusten Burroughs' novel “Sellevision” – and Backstage has received accolades from multiple Academy Award-, Emmy-, and Tony-winning actors and directors. (Plus, the hit musical “The Last Five Years” even includes Backstage in its lyrics: “Here's a headshot guy and a new Backstage / Where you're right for something on every page.”)

CAITRÍONA BALFE

ACTRESS

"I still get Backstage emails 'cause I still subscribe to Backstage. [Backstage is) kind of the Bible in the beginning, which is amazing. Samuel French and Backstage go hand in hand, you know? You go there for your plays when you're in classes, and then you get your Backstage."

Backstage 1

•••••

Brian’s Note: The following story originally appeared in April 2015. Most recent update is December 2020.

The Gorgeous Determination of Caitríona Balfe

Caitríona Balfe is on the move. That's been true most of her adult life— especially the 10 years she was modeling for Victoria's Secret, Dolce & Gabbana, and others—but as she sits on the rooftop patio of a West Hollywood hotel in mid-March, she mentions that she's pulling up stakes from Los Angeles.

"It just feels silly to have an empty place for 10 months until I figure out what I'm doing with my life," the Irish-born actor says. "I've rented the same place for the last four years and now I have to give it up." Her apartment is being razed to put in condos, but her departure from L.A. is extra poignant considering this is the city where Balfe journeyed when she decided to put aside that successful modeling career and focus on the vocation she'd always wanted: acting.

Photo: Luc-Richard Elie

"I've moved so much since I was 18," she says. "I mean, l've lived so many places. New York, I lived in for almost eight years [while modeling], and that's been the longest of anywhere since I left Ireland. But L.A. is where I came and said, 'OK, this is what I wanna do with my life.' "

She refuses to think of her move as a permanent one, though. "I'll be back," she declares, "but it feels really sad. My little apartment, it's got so many memories."

Balfe's sadness is no doubt mitigated by the fact that part of her need to move is due to the precipitous rise in her fortunes. She'll soon be flying to Scotland to shoot the second season of "Outlander," which returns to Starz April 4 to conclude Season 1.

When last we saw Balfe's Claire, the resourceful British nurse who comes home after World War |I only to be inexplicably teleported into the 18th-century Highlands, she was half-naked with a knife to her breast. Don't worry: Claire will get out of that scrape, but more perils await-to say nothing of the emerging multi-era romantic triangle developing between her, the Scottish warrior Jamie Fraser (Sam Heughan), and her 20th-century husband, Frank Randall (Tobias Menzies), who wonders where she's gone.

Based on the much-beloved Diana Gabaldon novels and developed for television by "Battlestar Galactica" rebooter Ronald D. Moore, "Outlander" is an ostensibly lush period-piece-within-a-period-piece drama that's consistently richer and thornier than its romance-novel trappings suggest. And much of the credit goes to Balfe, who had managed small parts in films such as “Super 8” and “Now You See Me” before landing the central role in this adaptation.

In person, Balfe is far less imposing than the steely Claire, who has to weather the dangers of being a woman in sexist, violent Scotland in the 1740s. Cast late in the preproduction of “Outlander”—Moore has mentioned in interviews how hard it was to find the right Claire—she didn’t have time to consider what the role would do to her life. “I’m so bad on social media," she confesses on this warm afternoon, nestled underneath a cabana. "I had set up an account on Twitter maybe a year or so before I got this job and had, I thought, a lot of followers — 250 or something, and most of them are my friends. Within about a month or two, it was thousands of people — and my phone, I didn't know how to turn off the alerts, so it was just going all the time. That was the beginning of the awareness."

Growing up in the small Irish community of Monaghan, Balfe had considered acting from an early age. ("I was devastated that I wasn't a child actor," she says, smiling. But after traveling to Dublin to study theater, she changed course once she received an offer to model. It wasn't a secret passion of hers, but who turns down a trip to Paris? "My parents felt that I should finish college," Balfe recalls, "but l'm slightly headstrong, so l took their advice and I completely ignored it."

Over the next decade, she lived in France, Italy, Germany, and Japan, her modeling inexperience hardly a detriment. "You'd be amazed how little information or training goes into it," she says. "When I first arrived in Paris, I was told to take a bus to the office. I left my suitcase — I barely spoke any French — and someone took me across the street, helped me buy a Carte Orange. They printed out five addresses that I had to go to that day, and then they sent me off." She still remembers at 18 riding the subway alongside 16-year-old aspiring Russian models, who knew no French or English, homesick and sobbing their eyes out. "That was just the way it was," says Balfe. "You become pretty tough. When I went to Japan, it was similar: They would drive you to their castings, but the minute you got a job, it would be like, 'Here's an address, here's a map. Good luck.' They don't have signposts in English in Japan, so the map and the address are not always very helpful."

Hear Balfe recount her early misadventures in modeling and you can't help but think of Claire, who's equally thrown to the wolves once she arrives in the 18th century amid people wary of the English in general and assertive women in particular. "Honestly, l've been in so many situations in my life where you just are completely displaced," Balfe says. “You have to adapt very quickly and figure it out. I definitely think that informs Claire a lot. It helped me understand her."

Did moving to Paris at such a young age teach Balfe that she can cope in any circumstance? "I think I didn't really realize that until many years later," she replies. "I have a great knack of not thinking about things and just going for it. You learn the hard way sometimes that you're able to get through, but sometimes it's quite tough when you're in a situation where you don't know anyone and you're trying to find your way around cities. But if an opportunity presents itself and it seems like a good idea, l'm just like, 'OK, let's do it, then I'll figure it out.'”

The decision to reconnect with her acting ambitions was conducted just as boldly. Ready to quit modeling, she moved to Los Angeles because a writer she was dating lived there. He was the only person she knew, but she had read a Vanity Fair interview with Amy Adams in which she said she trained with Warner Loughlin. "I could walk to that place from my ex-boyfriend's house," she says, "so l was like, 'Well, I'm gonna go there because I can't really drive. I started from scratch. I didn't have any managers, I didn't know any agents, I hadn't acted in almost a decade." But she just kept taking classes, moving from Loughlin to the studios of Sanford Meisner and Judith Weston. "I think when I first got here, I had a nice little air of delusion: 'It's gonna work out,'" she says with a laugh. “You just don't know how."

And then came "Outlander." By email, Moore admits that he didn't know Balfe's work until her audition tape came unsolicited to his office from her agent. Once she was chosen for Claire, he made it clear how demanding the job would be. “I told her in our first meeting that this was going to be an even bigger responsibility and workload than the normal TV lead," he writes. "Because the story was being told from Claire's point of view, Cait was going to be in every scene, every day for months, which is an extraordinary amount of work, far beyond what most actors are ever asked to do."

Moore's warning didn't faze Balfe. Writes Moore, "After she met with the president of Starz... and it was clear that she was going to land the role, I walked her to the elevator and just before the doors closed on her, I said 'Your life is about to change forever,' and she gave me a grin that was both thrilled and slightly nervous. I never saw her hesitate after that."

She's never hesitated before. As Balfe prepares to say goodbye to L.A. (for now, she thinks back to her early days in the city, trying to convince casting directors that she was more than just a model. "I went on many, many, many, many auditions that were Hot Girl No. 2 — you wanna shoot yourself," she says, laughing. "But, you know, I'm very lucky that l was even getting those auditions in the beginning. And it toughens you up. At least for me, to have that fuel to prove people wrong—it definitely spurs me on and makes me wanna work harder." Then she smiles conspiratorially. "And shove it to them."

Backstage 2

Remember… I told her in our first meeting that this was going to be an even bigger responsibility and workload than the normal TV lead. — Ronald D Moore

#Tait rhymes with hat #Good times #National Actors Day #8 September 2024 #Backstage #April 2015 #Story last updated December 2020 #Instagram

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female-buckets · 4 months ago

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WNBA teams are required to provide one bedroom apartments for players.

Angel is choosing to rent an $8,000 unit instead of accepting the one bedroom apartment provided by the league.

Somebody needs to pull her aside and give her some financial advice.

If you have deep pockets, why are you GIVING AWAY $8K A MONTH IN RENT???

$8K A MONTH IS A MORTGAGE PAYMENT ON A HIGH-END HOME IN ANY BEAUTIFUL CITY IN THE WORLD.

If you don't want to buy a home in Chicago because you want to leave the team ASAP, fine. But if you buy something, you can always sell it later. When you rent, your money is gone forever. Paying $8K in rent when there's a free apartment in your contract is the stupidest thing I've ever heard.

Stewie has millions but you know where she lived when she played for Seattle? She lived in the free apartment that came with her WNBA contract. You wanna know what she did with the money she saved? She bought a fancy condo in NYC.

Everyone can spend their money however they want. But I worry about some of these NIL babies

#wnba

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deanwbigbang · 1 month ago

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No Direction Home by amypond45 | art by midnightsilver dean x sam, E, 15k

Dean is overwhelmed with guilt when Jessica dies at the end of the pilot. Sure that it’s his fault, he leaves Sam and runs, eventually finding a witch who agrees to alleviate his suffering by removing his memories. But what Dean doesn’t count on is losing his memories of Sam, and when a handsome young man starts haunting his dreams, Dean’s life changes forever.

fic (lj) | art

Free To Be You, Me, and a Baby by Ophelia_Yvette | art by Morokolli dean & emma, dean & sam, dean & cas, T, 12,7k

Seattle was wet—that was just a fact of life. Seeing the sun was like seeing a unicorn in the sky. It’s why Dean never liked coming here, it was much too rainy for his liking. Rain is fun when you’re a child splashing in puddles but as an adult it’s just one more way your day can be ruined. Dean tried not to think about Sam—where he was, what he was doing. He wasn’t here and now Dean was stuck with Castiel as his partner for this hunt. Dean wondered if he was sitting on a beach down here drinking Mai Tais. Or if he’d taken a page out of Dean’s own book and was drowning his sorrow’s somewhere in a bar? He shook his head trying to clear his thoughts—he needed to focus on the case, not on Sam.

fic | art

A Distant Memory by SamandDean76 | art by QueenSilber dean x sam, E, 10,3k

Dean is an Omega on the streets, just trying to survive. He is picked up and taken back to an opulent condo, where he is told to clean himself up and await his Alpha. The problem being that Dean can barely remember who he is, let alone who his mystery Alpha might be. And he is being plagued by alternating visions. He is either a desperate Omega, half-starved and filthy, or he is dressed for success in a tailored power suit. Every time he catches a glimpse of his reflection, his reality alters. Sam is trying his damnedest to save Dean, his soulmate who defended himself after Zachariah assaulted him. But the punishment rendered has left Dean unable to distinguish his true reality. Together with Castiel, Sam works to save Dean and punish the monster who led to them being cast out of heaven.

fic | art

Virgin Veins by ratzeebatz | art by TwinOne dean x cas, M, 22,9k

After Deans’s failed suicide attempt at an unnamed cliff in Kansas, he’s followed by Castiel- a man who claims to be an angel with a mission. His only job on Earth is to protect Dean Winchester, but all Dean wants is to get drunk and sleep forever. But Castiel is insistent, and a journey to reconnect with Sam and their missing Father makes both Castiel and Dean rethink their purpose and what they were meant to be all along.

fic | art

The Ball’s In Your Court by markofcain | art by MasoenArt (Masoena) dean x cas, E, 12,5k

Inspired by Challengers (2024) movie Dean and Castiel were once best friends turned teenage lovers, competing together in junior tennis championships. But Dean’s struggle to accept his sexuality ultimately drove them apart, leaving Cas to abandon his career altogether. Now, five years later, Dean has become a star tennis player, while Cas has rebuilt his life as the coach of top women’s player Elena Ivanova. Their paths haven’t crossed since their painful split—until Dean signs up for a charity match, where his doubles partner turns out to be none other than Cas’s protégé, Elena. While Dean assumes Cas must resent him, he soon discovers that might not be the case. Can Dean finally confront his past mistakes and win back the love of his life?

fic | art

In My Time Of Need by jdl71/jld71 | art by MasoenArt (Masoena) dean x sam, E, 68,8k

After working a case in the idyllic seaside city of Port Townsend, Sam and Dean have a fight. Angry, Dean leaves, needing to drive and maybe stop at a bar where what he thought playing a harmless game of pool leads to a fight that leaves him bruised and broken. Waking in the hospital with Sam by his side, his memory is affected, leading him to mistakenly believe that he and Sam are mated.

fic | art

#dean winchester #dean fanart #dean fanfic #deanwbigbang #supernatural #supernatural big bang

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realtyhubph-blog · 1 year ago

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#Angeles City #angeles city apartment #Angeles City COndo #angeles city fields avenue #angeles city hotels #Angeles City House and Lot #angeles city house for sale #angeles city pampanga #angeles city philippines #angeles city red light district #apartment angeles city #high society angeles city #horizon tower angeles city philippines #life in angeles city philippines #philippines apartment angeles city #vfw angeles city philippines #walking street angeles city

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melleonis · 2 years ago

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it’s 2015 and i am

sitting on my mattress on the floor in the spare bedroom of the chicago condo my friend’s parents bought for them with oil company money. both of us have undiagnosed and unmedicated adhd. neither of us clean. the wide, shallow bathroom sink grows a yellow-black film of residue and shaved hair.

i am trying to come to terms with being dead. the year prior was a cascade of horror, a chain of a hundred different sudden sickenings in the gut, and as far as the world and most people in it are concerned, i no longer exist - which would have been more than fine with me, except that time continues to pass.

until recently, porpentine had been writing a column for rock paper shotgun called live free play hard, reviewing free indie games. itch.io is in its infancy, but unity is ten years old now and really starting to come into its own, and this is the heyday of the so-called walking simulator - Dear Esther in 2012 to Firewatch in 2016. i never played most of the big names, the ones that attracted all that sneering gamergate hatred (Gone Home excepted) - after all, they cost money, and in 2015, i didn’t have any of that. so every porpentine article was a damp, fertile patch of sometimes-delicious always-free mushrooms. i play a LOT of itch.io games that year, and i’ve been missing them lately, so i wanted to talk about them here.

live free play hard is a decade old, at this point. links are dead. games don’t quite run the same on modern computers. twine games which once had music are now silent. these are some of the survivors.

their angelical understanding by porpentine, herself. ***STROBE WARNING*** and also for a text-based game this is an intense PTSD simulator. i considered linking others of her games here: neon haze (link appears to be broken), CYBERQUEEN (about which i’ve already said a lot) or howling dogs (which is arguably still her best), but i went with t.a.u. because, well, in 2015 a PTSD simulator was what i needed.

CHYRZA by kitty horrorshow kh has probably Made It as an indie artist more than anyone else on this list? my metric for this is that there are two whole jacob geller video essays about her games. CHYRZA is pure tone: jittery unity platforming up desert monuments collecting audiologs. trust me, it’s really effective.

Bernband by Tom van den Boogaart this one still runs, but there’s a bit of slowdown in some areas. this is pure exploration through a very pixelly alien city: nightclubs, power stations, overpasses, late-night noodle bars. an empty chapel. a trumpet recital. the empty corridors and stairwells between everything. it’s stuck with me for all these years.

SABBAT by oh no problems this is the least subtle it is possible for a text game to be. it starts with animal sacrifice and gets really fucking explicit from there. as someone who had at the time cut a picture of baphomet out of the liner notes from a random black metal cd found in a des moine record store and taped it to my bedroom doorpost like a mezuzah, all i really wanted from SABBAT was the ability to have snakes for dicks, and buddy, it delivers. i remember there used to be a sort of sludgey doom metal soundtrack, but it doesn’t seem to exist anymore, and the credits link to a nonexistent soundcloud. so it goes.

HEARTWOOD by Kerry Turner hahaha man i’d completely forgotten about this game until i went back through the archives but fuck, it rules. it’s so simple. it’s pure sensation. i loved it then and i love it now.

Off-Peak by Cosmo D i think Cosmo D is still going strong these days! actually, i’m pretty sure i have unplayed games by them in my steam library, i should fix that. Off-Peak is a jazz exploration of the world’s most colorful train station. people are playing bespoke 2015 eurogames. a vendor is selling a bunch of sheet music that musicians have had to pawn, what with the way the economy is going. you understand. triplets stalk you. a man strokes a cow, menacingly. i would say it’s peak itch.io, but in point of fact it is, of course, off-peak itch.io.

anyway i lived, eventually, and went on to make art of my own, but it’s my belief - it’s my hope - that all my writing carries the spores these games and games like them put in me when i was dead and decaying and fertile ground for such things. i hope you play some of them. i hope you enjoy them. thanks for reading <3

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somethingvicked · 6 months ago

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True love of mine part 13

warnings: female reader, fluff, slight nsfw.

Now

Y/N

After Eddie’s statement things got better. Your Instagram was still private so no one could send hateful messages to you. That didn’t stop them from making rude comments on Eddie’s account however, but you could live with that.

As long as no one sprayed hateful words on your building or tried to throw eggs at you when you went outside, it was okay.

Already you and Eddie were planning to move in together. A bit soon, some might say, but you had known each other since you were barely twelve years old – you’d already gone through the dating stage back when you were teenagers.

It just felt silly to start dating again. Even so you both knew that fifteen years apart could’ve brought changes so you decided to wait a month at least before starting to look for a place together, and see if any troubles came up.

It didn’t, so when the month was up you gave your notice to your landlord.

Eddie was usually based in Los Angeles, where he had a house, but he also had an apartment in your city, which is where he had stayed since you two reconnected that night after the concert.

You couldn’t move to Los Angeles because of your job, though, and Eddie understood that. He said that his job was flexible, he could practically live everywhere. Most of his team lived in L.A. but in the age of technology everything was possible.

You two agreed to find a new place together, because your apartment was too small for Eddie to have a studio in and Eddie didn’t want you to move in with him – he wanted you two to have a place that belonged to you both.

Eddie would sell his apartment in the city but keep his place in Los Angeles, for when he was needed there.

You said no when Eddie wanted to buy a big house for you two – you had never seen the point in having a house with eighteen rooms when there was just two people living in it. Eddie also needed privacy from his fans so you decided on a condo, in a secure building. Eddie would pay the bigger share of the rent, because he needed more space to work.

You would get your own study for when you needed to work at home and to keep your collection of notebooks with your poetry as well as shelves for your regular book.

Eddie had been concerned over you going to yoga classs and after a few times when journalists and gossip bloggers had crowded you, you understood why.

Eddie offered to hire you a private yoga instructor, but you didn’t want him to pay for your exercise, so instead you two agreed that you would use apps on your phone instead. Eddie had already wanted a gym in the apartment - or live in a building with a gym available for its tenants - for his own workouts. Since Eddie would use the gym as well, you agreed.

You didn’t try to be obnoxious on purpose, you knew that Eddie would share every penny he had with you, without you asking for it.

But the comments about you being a gold digger had stung more than you realized. They could call you ugly, old and everything in between that, but they wouldn’t accuse you of taking advantage of Eddie. You never had and you never would.

And perhaps it was a bit of a pride thing, too. You would never make as much money as Eddie did but you refused to not contribute to anything in this new home of yours.

Otherwise it would be the same thing as you moving in with Eddie, with everything being his, in all but name.

Eddie hired a real-estate agent to help you find a place and you two were lucky – only a month after the first, the ‘test’ month, they had found an apartment that met your criteria.

Eddie

It took about two weeks for Eddie and Y/N to move into their new home. It would take a bit more time to unpack and make it an actual home, but Eddie didn’t care. He and Y/N were back together and now they were also living together in a place of their own.

Eddie planned on making good of his promise, to propose to her, but decided to wait with that – maybe on the the very anniversary date which they both had tattooed on their arms – the day they met.

They could even have a year long engagement then and then marry on the same date. That would be amazing.

One day when they were unpacking and Eddie placed his box of jewelry in the closet while Y/N was stashing away her shoes – God, so many shoes! – she asked Eddie a question he had just waited for her to ask.

“Hey, what happened with your guitar pick necklace? You used to wear that all the time but not now.”

Eddie sighed, rubbing his eyes. He remembered the devastation he had felt when losing it. That pick had been like his lucky charm for so long.

“I lost it when I went to jail,” he confessed, shaking his head. “I had it on me the day they transferred me and it was supposed to stay among my things until I got out. But when I got out and my things were returned it wasn’t there. Someone must have taken it. I complained, of course, but what could I do?”

Y/N gaped at that and then came over and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, running her fingers through Eddie’s curly hair. “I know how much that pick meant to you.”

He nodded. “Yeah. But still, if I had to pick which I’d rather have back, I would always chose you.”

Y/n snorted at that but gave him a kiss, a look on her face Eddie recognized. It meant she was thinking about something, but when Eddie asked what it was she just smiled and said it was nothing.

Turned out it was not nothing, Eddie found out a few days later when she came home with a present for him. Eddie was surprised, because it wasn’t his birthday, but she snorted at that and said that it hadn’t been her birthday when he got her the cat ring either. “When you’re in a relationship you can give presents whenever,” Y/N told Eddie with a smile. “In fact ‘whenever’ is the best time for a present!”

He laughed at that and then opened the present, his jaw dropping when he saw that it was a small jewlery box, inside a chain with a small guitar pick in silver, and the inscription, I will always pick you.

Tears clouded Eddie’s eyes as he immediately put it on and then lifted Y/N up in his arms, refusing to let go for over ten minutes.

That was also when he got the bright idea for them to ‘christen’ their home by having sex in every room of it.

Then,

Hawkins, 1984

“Hey, can I ask you a question,” Y/N said one day when they were sitting on the couch in Wayne’s trailer, sharing a joint.

“Sure,” Eddie said, blowing out smoke. “What’s on your mind, kitten?”

“Where did you get this?” she asked curiously, leaning forward and touching his guitar pick necklace.

The neckline of her shirt fell with her movement and Eddie had to swallow hard to be able to answer and not just stare at her beautiful breasts. It didn’t matter how many times he saw them, they were always gorgeous to me.

“Earth to Eddie!” Y/N giggled and waved a hand in front of his eyes.

“Hmm? Oh! Well, it’s not that deep of a story, kitten. It was the first guitar pick I ever owned. I bought it myself with my allowance when I was eight years old and started to play guitar.

I of course bought and acquired new ones later on during the years, but somehow… that became my lucky charm. A reminder of the first time I managed to get a melody out of a guitar and realized that I was good at something. Not just a failure of a kid, with a dead mother and a criminal father. That I was good at something too.”

Y/N’s eyes became wet and she took the joint from him, wrapping her arms around my his neck and kissing him.

“You are good at a lot of things, Eddie. So many things. Not just guitar, even though you have a heck of talent. But you know what’s more important than that? You are a good person. The best person I know. And even better – you’re my good person. My favorite person.”

taglist: @ali-r3n @quinnyficsy @mewchiili @melodymunson @ches-86 @jenniquinn @eddiemunsonfuxks @stolen-in-moonlight @alastorssimp @pandemoniusstuff

(let me know if you want to be on the taglist!)

please, like, comment and reblog!

Your likes are wonderful but reblogs expand my reading circle.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #older!eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things au #joseph quinn #v's writing #true love of mine

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justawastess · 3 months ago

Text

[ alisha boe, cisfemale, she/her, muse 15, heiress / pinkpantheress ] welcome to show name, JUNIA NELL LARSEN — or should i say the magnet ? … a quick google search tells me you’re a TWENTY SIX year old SINGER who’s worth 50M . you've called avalon home for TWO YEARS, however something tells me there’s more to you than a flashy resume and penthouse 23A on your door ? it seems you’ve managed to earn a reputation around the city for being CALCULATED, yet, upon further investigation it seems you're also quite WITTY. but hey, thats the kind of mix that keeps people guessing. i'm sure as a CANCER you're used to people commenting on your TELFAR BAG / SOFT VOICE DRIPS OFF OF THEIR TOUNGE LIKE HONEY. CLEVER AS THE DEVIL AND TWICE AS PRETTY. HEAD THROWN BACK OUT THE WINDOW. but still we can't wait to watch you flourish ( or fail ) these next few weeks … [ zay, 28, she/her, est, none ]

Basic Information

full name: junia larson

age: twenty-six

dob: june 4

hometown : manhattan, new york

Pronouns: she/her

Orientation: pansexual

face clain: alisha boe

label : the magnet

Her grandmother said on her 10th birthday. “Oh Nia, you don’t have a bit of sense, but you’re so damn sweet it makes up for the…lack of brains.” Needless to say, her grandmother was ushered out before the cake was served.

Junia was quite the oddball in a family of successful scholars and stars. The Larsons are known to be respected socialites in New York City.. Her mother, Angel, is a successful actress, and her father is the heir to a diamond mining company he inherited from her late grandfather. And there's Junia who was….talentless. But for some reason, her airy cadence, and amiable presence attracted people like a moth to a flame. She blamed it on being rich because no reason existed for anyone to like her. Junia wasn’t a stereotypical rich girl: she was charming and witty.

The whole thing that jump-started her questionable career was a walk of shame. Twenty years old. After a night of partying hard, she spent half an hour hungover looking for a shirt and just said ‘fuck it,’ walking out of an expensive condo in only a black miniskirt, a bra, and a pair of YSl boots that weren’t hers. She walked all the way home without knowing the paparazzi was around.

Junia believes she became famous out of pure luck. There was no specific box anyone could put her in: she wasn’t a model, barely a socialite, and known for being the youngest Larsen's child. But, along the way, more opportunities started to arise: being a guest host, appearing on shows, and modeling for high-end magazines. People loved the hot and fun party girl.

The more her fame grew, the more people wanted to know about Junia. The biggest topic about her was her dating life because of Junia’s previous promiscuous nature. Dating a partner was never a problem for her, but keeping them was a struggle. The media turned it around and painted her as opportunistic since she was dating other celebrities.

Personaility

Junia is witty, and charming, and loves to engage in witty banter with others. She is also a fun-loving, spontaneous person who loves to try new things and explore the world around her. She's a confident individual who is comfortable in her own skin and isn't afraid to express her opinion—even if it's controversial. She’s a bit careless, never think things through. She has a hard time taking responsibility for her actions and often makes decisions without thinking. And often acts impulsively.

HEADCANCON, POSSIBLE WCS, AND MORE.

Take Me To Your Best Friend’s House- name.

A childhood friend or someone she met early in the industry, Junia loves dearly and cherishes like gold. . They grew up supporting each other. You will always see Junia praise them for their accomplishments.

With Friends Like These, Who Needs Enemies- name. in the media, they’re known to be close together because of a viral project for a magazine..What fans don’t know is they hate each other. But we always are set on projects together! ( I was thinking like music or something to do with modeling or something tv related) But they continue to work with each other because their fake chemistry works and makes them

Wow it's brutal out here

They were in short-lived relationship that got ugly really fast. They had a big blowout on social media and vowed to never talk to each other again. Well until now.

#etv.intro

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moneyque · 1 year ago

Text

— monique mitchell, task OO3: p1.

𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝟷: 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙱𝙰𝚂𝙸𝙲𝚂

What is your full name?

Monique Ella Mitchell.

Where and when were you born?

May 23rd, 2000 in Canarsie, Brooklyn.

Who are/were your parents? (Know their names, occupations, personalities, etc.)

Michael Mitchell is an infamous drug distributor who owns several clubs throughout New York City. He can be described as stoic, over-protective, and intimidating. Monica Mitchell was a registered nurse before she passed away but was described as nurturing, loyal, and had a lot of sass & cheek.

Do you have any siblings? What are/were they like?

Monique is an only child.

Where do you live now, and with whom? Describe the place and the person/people.

Monique lives in her penthouse condo in Los Angeles, California by herself.

What is your occupation?

Monique is currently a socialite, influencer and a model.

Write a full physical description of yourself. You might want to consider factors such as: height, weight, race, hair and eye color, style of dress, and any tattoos, scars, or distinguishing marks.

Standing at 5’4 and a half, Monique has dark brown eyes as well as dark brown hair that runs past her shoulders. She identifies as black, race-wise, and weighs around 145 lbs. She has numerous tattoos scattered around her upper body— a symbol on the back of her neck, ‘MUSE’ underneath her collarbone, her ex-boyfriend’s name tracing her ear, & another small tribute to her former relationship on her hip, ‘get money or get lost’ on her forearm, the outline of a diamond on her finger, and ‘new york’ on her left hand. Her style of dress is definitely trendy/ahead of the trend, fly, anything and everything designer, flashy, revealing, and anything to show off her curvy figure.

To which social class do you belong?

She belongs to the upper class.

Do you have any allergies, diseases, or other physical weaknesses?

None.

Are you right- or left-handed?

Monique is right-handed.

What does your voice sound like?

Monique has a distinct New York accent mixed with her somewhat high-pitched tone.

What words and/or phrases do you use very frequently?

‘Stop playing with me.’ ‘Ode.’ ‘Girl.’ ‘Cute.’ ‘Weird.’ ‘Real.’ ‘Likeee.’

What do you have in your pockets?

Dior Addict Lip Maximizer in the color ‘Holographic Pink’ with a matching compact mirror to go with it.

Do you have any quirks, strange mannerisms, annoying habits, or other defining characteristics?

Monique has a habit of flipping her hair or touching it. She also rolls her eyes constantly throughout a conversation and is overall very expressive with her facial features to a fault. Monique is very vain, so any time she gets a chance to look at herself or admire herself, she takes it. Monique makes it a point not to wear the same purse/handbag two days in a row. Another defining characteristic about her would be the color pink being incorporated into every single aspect of her life in almost a childish manner.

𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝟸: 𝙶𝚁𝙾𝚆𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚄𝙿

How would you describe your childhood in general?

Monique’s early childhood was a rough start for her. At the time, her father was still dealing with the loss of his wife/her mother as well as being a dope boy on the corner trying to bring in a steady income for his new born daughter. Initially, they struggled, living in the projects, surviving off of food stamps and a necessity-only lifestyle. Despite that, Michael always made sure Monique never wanted for anything. So, the transition from the projects to their penthouse in Brooklyn in her late adolescent years was somewhat smooth for her.

What is your earliest memory?

Monique’s earliest memory would be opening presents on Christmas at Sakari’s house, where she celebrated with both Sakari and Josiah’s family. Her father had just gifted her a Barbie DreamHouse, which sparked up her love for the doll/franchise.

How much schooling have you had?

Monique has been in school her entire life up until now, the highest point she reached being her B.S in Business and B.A Communication.

Did you enjoy school?

The only aspect Monique enjoyed about school was meeting up with her friends, or hanging out with them afterwards. She viewed school as mandatory and experienced a lot of pressure from her father to be a straight A/B+ student throughout her years in school.

Where did you learn most of your skills and other abilities?

Monique learned a lot from her best friend Josiah, as far as street smarts, gang life, and how to make money.

While growing up, did you have any role models? If so, describe them.

Monique’s father was her biggest role model. As well as Josiah. She also considered Barbie a role model to her, in the sense that she was perfect, very feminine, had it all, and could be whatever she wanted.

While growing up, how did you get along with the other members of your family?

Monique got along with her dad very well, he was one of her best friends up until she reached high school. Which is when she started to take note of how overbearing, overprotective, controlling, and stubborn he was, which ultimately led her down the path of deceit and dishonesty.

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?

Monique wanted to be rich.

As a child, what were your favorite activities?

As a young girl, Monique loved gymnastics, exploring the city and watching classic movies with her dad.

As a child, what kinds of personality traits did you display?

Monique displayed traits of resilience, sass, being outspoken, very saddity, and very adventurous.

As a child, were you popular? Who were your friends, and what were they like?

Monique was popular amongst her peers, throughout her childhood, mainly because she was always in the latest, had the best clothing, and appeared to live a lavish lifestyle. However, she always kept her friend group short. Her main friends were Josiah Reeves and Sakari Vaughn, but they grew to be like family to her. She kept very few close friends in school and mainly hung around the older crowd that she was introduced to.

When and with whom was your first kiss?

Her first kiss was from one of the boys in her neighborhood at the age of six.

Are you a virgin? If not, when and with whom did you lose your virginity?

Monique isn’t a virgin. She lost her virginity to her first boyfriend when she was 15.

𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝟹: 𝙿𝙰𝚂𝚃 𝙸𝙽𝙵𝙻𝚄𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴𝚂

What do you consider the most important event of your life so far?

Monique considers moving out of the projects the most important event in her life so far.

Who has had the most influence on you?

Herself.

What do you consider your greatest achievement?

Monique considers establishing herself as a brand, a household name and being able to make money off of just being herself one of her greatest achievements.

What is your greatest regret?

Monique has no regrets.

What is the most evil thing you have ever done?

Monique sold her ex-boyfriend’s social security number and pushed a girl down a flight of stairs causing her to sprain her wrist.

Do you have a criminal record of any kind?

Monique has been to jail for stabbing a woman in the arm, but her father got her record expunged.

When was the time you were the most frightened?

Monique was most frightened during her first car accident during a speed race.

What is the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you?

Her ex boyfriend’s mom walked in on them having sex when she was 16.

If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be, and why?

Monique would change how fast she grew up. Monique feels like she rushed into being a grown up, and faced harsh realities very early on. She feels as though she didn’t get to experience ignorance and innocence for long.

What is your best memory?

When her dad bought her a G Wagon, her first car, when she was seventeen.

What is your worst memory?

Being in school and finding out her best friend had gotten shot, and was in critical condition at the time.

𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝟺: 𝙱𝙴𝙻𝙸𝙴𝙵𝚂 & 𝙾𝙿𝙸𝙽𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂

Are you basically optimistic or pessimistic?

Monique tends to lean towards the pessimistic side, even though she’s working on it, she finds it easier to see and expect the worst.

What is your greatest fear?

Monique’s greatest fear is her father passing away and letting her guard down and then being hurt by someone she loves or trusts.

What are your religious views?

Monique isn’t spiritual at all but believes in God.

What are your political views?

Monique shares liberal political views.

What are your views on sex?

Monique sees sex as something somewhat sacred to her but fun. She doesn’t have sex with just anyone, she’s very calculated with whom she shares her body but she’s also accepting of people who think differently when it comes to sex, and sex work in general.

Are you able to kill? Under what circumstances do you find killing to be acceptable or unacceptable?

Monique isn’t a killer but when she’s pushed to the limit, it’s no telling what she’ll do or is capable of doing. Killing is acceptable when it’s to protect one’s self or someone else, and is unacceptable when it’s senseless.

In your opinion, what is the most evil thing any human being could do?

The most evil thing a human being could do is maliciously harm the harmless.

Do you believe in the existence of soul mates and/or true love?

Monique does believe in true love and soulmates.

What do you believe makes a successful life?

To Monique, having a successful life is accomplishing what they want/set their mind on and acquiring wealth while doing so.

How honest are you about your thoughts and feelings (i.e. do you hide your true self from others, and in what way)?

Monique is usually very honest with how she feels or thinks, especially if she feels like she has the right to be or is justified in her thought process. If she has any doubts in her mind, she’ll keep it to herself and deliberate amongst her trusted friends and loved ones before communicating it.

Do you have any biases or prejudices?

Monique is biased & prejudice against men, in general.

Is there anything you absolutely refuse to do under any circumstances? Why do you refuse to do it?

Monique absolutely refuses to do anything that 100% comprises her self-respect or whatever she considers beneath her. She holds herself to a certain standard and any time that standard or boundary is pushed, she’s quick to attack the situation or retreat.

Who or what, if anything, would you die for (or otherwise go to extremes for)?

Monique would die for her father, only.

𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝟻: 𝚁𝙴𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙿𝚂 𝚆/ 𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝚂

In general, how do you treat others (politely, rudely, by keeping them at a distance, etc.)? Does your treatment of them change depending on how well you know them, and if so, how?

Monique is very standoffish and keeps everyone at a distance but still is polite/kind and considers herself approachable. Her treatment of them changes depending on how she perceives them, if they are friends or closer, or if she wants to get to know them romantically/financially.

Who is the most important person in your life, and why?

The most important person in Monique’s life is her father because time after time again, he’s proven to be the most genuine, solid and stable person in her life.

Who is the person you respect the most, and why?

Monique respects her father the most, because of all the things he has risked and done for her to be where she’s at today. He could’ve just given up after his wife/her mother passed and stayed stagnant, and hindered her, but he’s put everything on the line to make sure she had what she wanted at all times and nothing/no one could supersede that.

Who are your friends? Do you have a best friend? Describe these people.

Monique’s friends are Asiah Porter, Josiah Reeves, and Sakari Vaughn. She views Josiah as her best friend.

Josiah is an older brother figure in Monique’s life, the second man in her life who took care of her, protected her and introduced her to the street life, fast money, and everything she’s known growing up. Monique sees Josiah as selfless, reliable, solid and loyal.

Sakari is the older sister figure in her life who’s always stuck by her side growing up. Sakari and Monique share similar home situations and upbringings which only brought them closer, as well as their fathers being close friends, and former business partners. Monique would describe Sakari as nurturing, soft-spoken, and not quick to express how she really feels.

Asiah Porter is Monique’s former roommate, she met Asiah through Sakari and once Monique moved to L.A., they formed a strong bond. Monique views Asiah as her partner in crime and a listening ear whenever she needs one. To Monique, Asiah is often the voice of reason, has juvenile tendencies, and is very friendly.

Do you have a spouse or significant other? If so, describe this person.

Monique is single.

Have you ever been in love? If so, describe what happened.

Monique has been in love three times. The first time was with her first boyfriend, rapper Artist Dubose, who she dated for five years consecutively and thought she was going to spend her life with but they broke up due to both sides taking things too far and being disrespectful. The second time was with an on and off again situationship that ended up becoming more serious than she had originally intended it to be. She realized she was in love as she broke things off with him, due to internal issues. Lastly, Monique was in love with her ex-boyfriend of nine months, which also started off as harmless but eventually turned into something deeper. However, towards the end of the relationship, fights broke out that revealed issues with their relationship, resulting in her ending things with him.

What do you look for in a potential lover?

Monique looks for a provider, someone who's consistent, with a charming personality. Someone who shares similar traits to her father, someone who will defend her blindly whenever need be, someone who will cherish, reassure her, and exercise patience with her and not give up on her. She also looks to see if they trick.

How close are you to your family?

Monique is extremely close with her father, being that he’s the only family she’s ever really known or had. Monique is familiar with her mother’s side of the family but doesn’t have a close bond with them due to them not being as fond of her father and his occupation.

Have you started your own family? If so, describe them. If not, do you want to? Why or why not?

Monique hasn’t started a family and doesn’t wish to at the moment, simply because she’s currently too selfish to have kids at the moment. Pregnancy scares her.

Who would you turn to if you were in desperate need of help?

Monique would turn to her father or her best friend.

Do you trust anyone to protect you? Who, and why?

Monique trusts her father or Josiah just because they have shown her things in the past that make her feel comfortable with them doing so. Her father’s shielded and protected her, her entire life, treating her as if she was fragile and Josiah has fought for her many times before.

If you died or went missing, who would miss you?

Monique believes the entire world would miss her.

Who is the person you despise the most, and why?

Monique despises her entire block list, and people who don’t like her in general because she feels as though they’ve picked unnecessary problems with her.

Do you tend to argue with people, or avoid conflict?

Monique would 100% argue with someone and by no means avoids conflict.

Do you tend to take on leadership roles in social situations?

Monique leads herself in social situations, she wouldn’t try to control the crowd unless she’s being paid to host. Amongst her ‘peers’, she does her own thing or keeps her distance.

Do you like interacting with large groups of people? Why or why not?

Monique doesn’t mind interacting with large groups of people, she’s used to entertaining a large crowd because of her social position what she does for work, and who she is. She doesn’t necessarily like being around a lot of people, and if she had the choice, she’d stay by herself.

Do you care what others think of you?

Monique cares about how she's perceived, not necessarily about what others think of her. This means she cares about the impression she gives and the vibe she projects, but she doesn't necessarily care about how people personally interpret it.

@la-resources

#— ‘task.#— ‘character dev.#L.A task100

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twistedmindtales · 1 year ago

Text

The Penthouse

Justin was a wealthy stock trader known for his extravagant lifestyle, reveling in the opulence that money had bestowed upon him. Now in his mid-thirties, he hailed from a modest family in a small town, he grew up with dreams that seemed far out of reach. Yet, even from a young age, Justin possessed an unwavering determination and an insatiable hunger for success. His analytical mind and innate ability to predict market trends led him to pursue a career as a stock trader.

Leaving his hometown behind, he ventured to Wall Street, immersing himself in the fast-paced world of finance. With relentless dedication and a sharp intellect, he swiftly ascended the ranks, accumulating a significant fortune and earning a reputation as a shrewd trader.

Charismatic and confident, Justin exuded an air of self-assurance that commanded attention. His belief in his abilities drove him forward, propelling him through high-pressure situations with ease. Ambition coursed through his veins, and he refused to settle for anything less than extraordinary. Setting his sights on ambitious goals, he pursued them with relentless tenacity, using his sharp intellect and a keen eye for opportunities to make calculated decisions. Though his drive sometimes manifested as arrogance, it stemmed from his unmatched confidence in his capabilities.

Yet, beneath his ambitious exterior, Justin wrestled with an insatiable hunger for more. The pursuit of success often left him yearning for greater heights, preventing him from fully appreciating his accomplishments. There was a constant fear of complacency lurking within him, driving him to seek the next big challenge. With his thirst for material wealth and status, Justin struggled to find true contentment. Once he amassed his fortune trading on Wall Street, he now purchased the tallest and most luxurious penthouse condo in the heart of Los Angeles.

It was an architectural marvel that offered breathtaking views of the sprawling city below, with its shimmering lights and pulsating energy. Perched high above the bustling streets of L.A., Justin’s luxurious penthouse exuded an air of refined elegance. From the moment one stepped into the grand foyer, they were enveloped in an atmosphere of unparalleled luxury and sophistication.

The entrance hall, lined with gleaming marble floors, bathed in the soft glow of crystal chandeliers that cascaded from the lofty ceiling. Intricately designed wall sconces dotted the walls, casting gentle light upon the exquisite artwork. Moving deeper into the penthouse, an expansive living area awaited, showcasing a harmonious blend of contemporary timeless aesthetics.

Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the panoramic views of the City of Angels, where the shimmering lights of the sprawling metropolis stretched as far as the eye could see. A state-of-the-art home theater system seamlessly merged into the walls, providing a sanctuary for cinematic indulgence. Adjacent to the living area, a gourmet chef’s kitchen beckoned, replete with sleek granite countertops, top-of-the-line appliances, and custom-designed cabinetry that housed an impressive collection of culinary treasures. A sprawling center island, illuminated by delicate pendant lights, served as the heart of this culinary haven, inviting guests to gather and witness the masterful culinary creations that would emanate from its depths, although Justin dined alone most evenings.

The master suite, a sanctuary of tranquility and indulgence, awaited at the end of a private corridor. Upon entering, one was greeted by an expanse of space adorned with plush, handcrafted furnishings. A king-sized bed, adorned with sumptuous linens and an array of meticulously arranged accent pillows, stood as the centerpiece, commanding attention. A private parlor behind a small inconspicuous door off the bedroom, adorned with rich mahogany bookcases and a custom-designed desk, offered a retreat for Justin’s intellectual pursuits. The ensuite bathroom, a masterpiece in its own right, boasted floor-to-ceiling Italian marble, cascading rain showers, and a decadent soaking tub that overlooked the breathtaking Los Angeles skyline. Ornate gold fixtures sparkled under the gentle glow of intricately designed chandeliers, adding a touch of regality to the space. Throughout the penthouse, an intelligent home automation system seamlessly integrated technology with the utmost sophistication. From the touch of a button, the ambient lighting would adjust, music would softly waft through hidden speakers, and motorized curtains would glide open, revealing the majestic vista outside.

The piece de resistance of Justin’s castle, a sprawling outdoor terrace awaited, beckoning Justin and his guests to bask in the glory of the city night sky. A sparkling infinity pool stretched towards the horizon, seemingly merging with the sky, while plush loungers and sumptuous seating arrangements provided the perfect setting for sun-soaked relaxation or elegant soirées under the stars.

Amidst the resplendent backdrop of his penthouse, Justin decided to host an extravagant gathering to commemorate the closure of a momentous business deal. The space was transformed into a scene of revelry and excess, as the crème de la crème of the business world mingled with glasses of champagne in hand. Guests, adorned in designer attire, oozed an air of self-importance as they engaged in spirited conversations, their voices laced with arrogance and thinly veiled competition.

Alexander proclaimed, “Did you hear about my latest acquisition? It’s a game-changer, I tell you.”

Penelope scoffed in response, “Oh, that’s cute. But let me tell you about my recent expansion into international markets. It’s only a matter of time before I dominate them all.”

“Please, both of you, step aside. My latest venture capital investment is the talk of the town. The future of Los Angeles belongs to me!” Maxwell said while popping his collar.

Amidst the cacophony of boastful declarations and competitive chatter, Justin’s weariness from the festivities and celebratory libations began to take its toll. As the night wore on, he found himself growing increasingly aware of subtle, yet peculiar happenings within his opulent abode. Whispers seemed to linger in the air as if carried by unseen forces, and shadows danced with mischievous energy. Drunk and disoriented, Justin’s senses played tricks on him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the elegant paintings lining the walls observed the soirée with a mischievous glint in their eyes. The flickering candlelight cast elongated shadows that seemed to move of their own accord, adding an eerie touch to the luxurious ambiance.

Justin was the only one who seemed to notice.

As he stumbled through the lavish space, his steps grew unsteady as he encountered his reflection in a grand mirror. For a fleeting moment, he swore that his own reflection had smirked back at him, the contours of his face twisted in a sinister grin before returning to its familiar visage. Echoing whispers again floated through the air, carrying snippets of conversations long past or that may have never existed at all. A soft touch of a breeze suddenly tickled the nape of his neck, though no windows were open to invite such a draft.

Disoriented and increasingly unnerved while struggling to maintain his composure, Justin decided to retreat to the solace of his private parlor. The sanctuary offered a much-needed reprieve from the overwhelming presence of his self-absorbed guests and increasingly strange occurrences.

The room, shrouded in shadows, seemed to pulsate with otherworldly energy. The elegant furniture that once exuded comfort now loomed with an unsettling presence. The once-vibrant colors appeared distorted as if painted with shades unseen by mortal eyes.

Justin quickly burst through the small door leading to his bedroom and collapsed onto his bed, the weight of the evening and the inexplicable events pressing upon his weary mind. As he drifted between sleep and consciousness, his thoughts swirled with questions and trepidation. Was it the alcohol playing tricks on his senses, or had his penthouse become a stage for something far beyond his comprehension?

As the night wore on, and the final echoes of the gathering faded into silence, Justin’s exhaustion consumed him. Eyes heavy with weariness, he succumbed to a weighted slumber.

As the morning light filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, Justin groaned and reluctantly stirred from his alcohol-induced slumber. His head throbbed mercilessly, and a parched tongue clung to the roof of his mouth. Disoriented, he initially believed that the previous night’s unsettling occurrences were merely the byproduct of an overindulgent celebration.

Shaking off the remnants of his hangover, Justin rose from his bed and began to wander aimlessly through the expansive penthouse. The space, adorned with its lavish decor, appeared as it always had. Yet, a nagging sense of unease tugged at the edges of his consciousness, his only relief was seeing that his guests had all left and seemingly cleaned up after themselves.

As he moved from room to room, Justin’s footsteps echoed through the expanse, seeming oddly hushed against the plush carpets beneath his feet. He cast his gaze upward, expecting to see familiar ceilings, but something caught his attention. The height of the penthouse seemed subtly different—almost imperceptibly taller than he remembered.

Puzzled, Justin’s eyes traced the walls, searching for clues. The crown molding that had once elegantly framed the rooms now stood slightly higher, accentuating the lofty ceilings. The custom-made furniture, which had once fit perfectly within the space, now appeared ever so slightly dwarfed against the expanded dimensions of the penthouse.

With a furrowed brow, Justin continued his exploration. The windows, once offering a mesmerizing view of the Los Angeles skyline, now seemed to be positioned higher, as if the penthouse itself had been lifted closer to the heavens. The breathtaking panorama appeared distorted, the familiar landmarks below appearing minuscule against the backdrop of the city.

Every corner he turned, every detail he observed, heightened Justin’s unease. The grand chandeliers that had once graced the ceilings now dangled at an uncomfortably greater distance from the floor. The art pieces that had once adorned the walls seemed to shrink in proportion, lost within the expanse of the newly elongated space.

His heart quickened, and a sense of apprehension settled within him. It was as if the penthouse itself had undergone an inexplicable transformation, stretching upward in defiance of the laws of physics. The very architecture of his sanctuary seemed to mock his attempts to find normalcy, whispering an unsettling truth—that the events of the previous night were not merely the delusions of an intoxicated mind. Justin reached for his phone only to find that he was not receiving any service at these new heights. He rushed towards the elevator, and it was as if the elevator car was thirty floors below and completely unreachable. The door that lead to the emergency stair exit was now covered and was like it never existed at all.

Bewildered, Justin couldn’t shake the lingering feeling that he had stumbled into an altered reality, where the dimensions of his penthouse exceeded the boundaries of normalcy and he had lost all contact with the outside world. The once-familiar dwelling now loomed with an eerie grandeur, leaving him to question if he had unwittingly stepped into a twisted realm where the laws of space and perception were forever changed. With each passing day, the frequency and intensity of these disturbances escalated, unsettling the very core of his being. Shadows danced on the periphery of his vision, objects shifted position when his back was turned, and eerie sounds reverberated through the halls, chilling his soul.

One fateful night, Justin awoke to a chilling realization that his once-familiar sanctuary had been irrevocably altered. His disheveled state of mind was met with a surreal scene, as his bedroom had undergone a profound transformation. The meticulously arranged furniture now adorned unfamiliar corners, and his bed had inexplicably migrated to the opposing wall. Paralyzed by fear, he grasped at straws, attributing this bizarre occurrence to the mischievous antics of his affluent companions—a high-stakes prank orchestrated by those who reveled in his fortune. But this was no prank, and his friends seemed light-years away.

Nevertheless, the passage of time shattered Justin’s fragile illusions. The ethereal metamorphosis within his home grew increasingly extreme, plunging him into a maelstrom of disorientation and despair. The very architecture of the walls seemed to shift and contort, defying the laws of physics and reaching unimaginable heights nearing the edge of the Earth’s atmosphere. Mysterious symbols and cryptic markings etched themselves onto surfaces, their enigmatic origins eluding comprehension. The once-secure walls now seemed to harbor an otherworldly force, tightening its grip on Justin’s sanity.

The anxiety and fear made him pass out on the floor and when he awoke, he was no longer confined to the familiarity of his fancy penthouse. Instead, he found himself confined within a sterile, antiseptic chamber devoid of windows or discernible exits. The stark white walls offered no solace, their pristine surfaces mocking his predicament. Trapped and alone, Justin’s heart pounded with trepidation, his breath hitching as he realized that he was now at the mercy of an otherworldly presence.

These extraterrestrial beings, tall and slender with elongated limbs and piercing black eyes, conducted their clandestine observations upon Justin. Their elongated fingers probed and prodded as if dissecting the secrets of his very existence. Terror coursed through his veins, pleading eyes beseeching for mercy, yet the enthralling gaze of the aliens remained impassive, oblivious to his desperate cries which seemed to have no actual sound.

Justin found himself subjected to a series of bewildering and unsettling experiments. Initially, the alien beings conducted physical examinations, meticulously analyzing his body from head to toe. Their touch was precise and clinical as if they were studying an intriguing specimen. They scanned him with advanced devices, emitting faint hums and glows as they delved into the intricacies of his physiology.

As the days turned into weeks, the experiments took on a more invasive nature. Justin was subjected to strange devices that emitted eerie lights and emitted low-frequency vibrations. The aliens seemed to be testing the limits of his endurance and resilience, pushing him to the edge of his physical and mental capabilities.

They probed his mind, delving deep into his memories and thoughts, seeking to unravel the intricacies of human consciousness. Justin’s thoughts and emotions were laid bare, his innermost secrets exposed to these otherworldly beings. It was an invasion of privacy that left him feeling vulnerable and violated.

The aliens, driven by an insatiable curiosity, continued their relentless exploration. They exposed Justin to bizarre environments, altering gravity and atmospheric conditions to observe his reactions. They manipulated time itself, subjecting him to accelerated or decelerated experiences that distorted his sense of reality.

Through it all, Justin’s pleas and protests fell on deaf ears. The aliens seemed incapable of understanding his distress, their motives and intentions were shrouded in enigmatic silence. He became a mere pawn in their pursuit of knowledge, a specimen trapped in their inscrutable experiment.

The sense of dread that had initially consumed Justin grew with each passing day. He realized that escape was futile, and a profound sense of hopelessness settled over him. Days turned into weeks, and any glimmer of hope flickered like a dying ember. The confines of the alien vessel became his prison, the relentless experimentation an inescapable torment. He witnessed the boundaries of his endurance crumble, consumed by the unshakable certainty that he would never again witness the embrace of the outside world. Dread constricted his every thought, the lingering fear of forever languishing within the clutches of these inscrutable beings—an existence devoid of all hope and devoid of the life he once knew.

#horror #scifi #short story

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avacoleman · 1 year ago

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when the lights go out || a firstprince fic

summary: Henry Fox’s career is in crisis and his dating life isn’t faring much better either. After a chance encounter with a charming man becomes memorable for all the wrong reasons, Henry throws himself into his next assignment: writing the memoir of a beloved C-list actor. Henry, however, knows Alex best for the role he played as his random, awkward one-night stand. Henry enters their professional partnership keen on keeping their relationship just that. But after Henry confesses that their hookup was less than spectacular, Alex concots an arrangement that Henry is unable to resist. In addition to ghostwriting Alex’s life story, Henry will teach him a thing or two about satisfying a man. As they spend months out on the road together, they must decide if the connection between them is yet another story worth telling.

chapter 7/8 || rated e || read on ao3 updates every tues. and fri. *

Los Angeles, CA Day 1 They trade one sunny coast for another and Henry has mixed emotions, the likes of which he’s never experienced before. It all, as usual, is linked to his uncertainty over what comes next. He can now count on one hand the amount of days he has left in Alex’s company. He feels grateful for the time they’ve been able to share, but knowing that he’d soon have to part ways has made this all so bittersweet. Henry supposes he’s become spoiled on this tour by Alex’s company, the knowledge that there was always another city to accompany him to. The cold hard fact that this was officially the end of the line settled like an uncomfortable weight on his chest any time he allowed himself to dwell on it. He tries to cling to the good where he can.

Even after a delayed flight out of Miami, Henry saw the upside to it, getting more one-on-one time with Alex as they hung around the gate, trading music and stories back and forth. For all of the physical elements they’d breached while out on the road, it was this genuine friendship with Alex that Henry loved the most.

It’s been a bit uncanny though just how easily they’ve slipped back into a normal routine with each other after that night of their final lesson in Miami. They haven’t spoken about it since; neither of them has even come close to crossing that line now that they’ve finished with Alex’s syllabus. Henry figures that’s probably for the best. Safer even.

They head straight to the Crescent Valley lot from the airport after making it out of the absolute labyrinth of LAX with just enough time to spare.

Seeing the cast together again is a treat and Henry enjoys every bit of watching them film B-roll for the special. Henry wishes Pez could see it all now, but he reminds himself that his best friend will join him during the actual reunion. Alex had been gracious again and secured a spot for Pez alongside him.

Henry sits back and watches the photoshoot the cast does on different sets from the show, admiring their ability to go through outfit changes and touch ups to their hair and makeup. They take it all in stride and it allows them to wrap within a few hours.

It’s a surreal feeling after that to be alone with Alex again, to have him all to himself and journeying back to his place. Henry can admit he’s curious what home in L.A. looks like to Alex, this man who he’s known to be such a nomad over the last three months.

Alex’s condo is a gorgeous unit with floor to ceiling glass windows that bathe the entire space with natural light.

“I bought this at the start of season three,” Alex says as they stand now in the kitchen.

Henry cranes his neck back to take in the high ceilings.

“It’s more space than I really needed at the time. Hell, even now. But I don’t know. I just kinda fell in love with it.”

“I can see why. It’s incredible, Alex. Truly,” he replies, looking at Alex again.

Alex smiles. “I gotta say, it’s kind of trippy seeing you here.”

Henry laughs. “How so?”

Alex shrugs and takes a seat on one of the stools at the large island in the center of the space. Henry takes a seat beside him, their bodies turning toward each other. They're close enough that their knees just about touch.

“I guess after spending three months in hotels, it’s surreal having you in my actual place. It’s nice though, don’t get me wrong. It’s really freaking nice. You got to see my home in Austin and now here. It’s like the last puzzle piece snapping into place, you know?”

Henry doesn’t actually know what to do with that statement. He wishes he could actually fit into the grand scheme of Alex’s life, that he could be an essential piece to complete the picture.

Alex grows quiet, his eyes a bit soft. He rests a hand on Henry’s knee. His thumb brushes back and forth lightly, his lips parting. It’s been days since Alex has touched him this intimately before. It’s downright jarring and confusing how sudden this all feels.

Henry tenses and moves back.

“I think we should stop,” Henry blurts out.

Alex’s face falls for a moment before he schools his features as he pulls away.

“Oh.”

Henry sighs and rises from the stool, tucking his hands in his pockets.

“It’s just that we’ve tackled everything. There’s nothing left on the syllabus. I go home in a few days and with that, we’ll be back on our own coasts for good. I’m practically done with the book. I…I don’t think we should complicate things now.”

Alex doesn’t say anything, but it’s so clear his mind is racing.

“What are you thinking?” Henry asks.

Alex blinks twice and shakes his head.

“It doesn’t matter. Wasn’t that a term in the agreement? One person wanting to stop was reason enough. You even went ahead and gave me your explanation as to why, though you didn’t have to. I respect that. You’re right. The lessons are over. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

Alex stands. “I was out of line,” he says as he moves around the island.

Henry is quicker and he gently grabs hold of Alex’s wrist.

“I never quite mastered the art of mind reading in the months we’ve been together. Please talk to me.”

Alex looks down at where Henry is holding him and back up to his face.

“What is there to say?” he asks softly. “You made a great point. We go back to the real world in a couple of days. The smart thing to do would be to start preparing myself for that instead of clinging to whatever this has been these last few months. It wasn’t actually real. I can see that.”

Henry lets go of Alex as if he’d been burned.

“I’ve deeply enjoyed my time with you, Alex. I don’t want to give you a false impression nor do I want to make you think I’m somehow just biding my time, watching the clock until I’m meant to return to New York. I have felt the presence of our time together slipping away each and every day and I’ve loathed it. If I had it my way, this tour would never end and I could stay in your company just that much longer.”

Alex’s bottom lip quirks, his eyes looking glassier with unshed tears.

Henry stands immediately, framing Alex’s face with his hands.

Alex blinks and looks away, but Henry sees the tear race down his cheek. In that quiet cry, Henry understands everything at once.

“When did our lessons stop being hypothetical for you?” Henry asks, lowering his hands.

The muscle in Alex’s jaw flexes twice.

“Can I plead the fifth?” Alex asks, sniffling before turning those beautiful brown eyes back on him.

Henry shakes his head.

“We’ve both done enough dodging, don’t you think?”

Alex pulls in a breath, squaring his shoulders.

“Arizona,” Alex says.

Henry stares at him, his jaw dropping a bit as he grapples to make sense of what he’s hearing.

“Alex, that was day one of the lessons.”

Alex simply shrugs. “I know. But kissing you again, it brought me back to the night we met…the way we connected right off the bat. I felt that same spark when we kissed in Phoenix and I thought, I don’t know. It seemed like you got so lost in it. I thought you might’ve felt it too.”

“I did,” Henry says quietly, rubbing his face. “Christ, Alex. Every bloody second, it’s been real for me because it was real since New York. I’ve traveled with you, falling for you all over again in every single city. But, I…,” he sighs.

“I don’t know where this leaves us though. You don’t date outside the industry.”

Alex's face falls.

“That was my preference at one point in time. It isn’t a law. Things change and they should. They already have.”

Alex’s eyes water again as he lets out a deep sigh.

“The night we met…I felt something I never really have. That didn’t just up and go away after you left. I really like you, Henry. Sometimes I think I may even–,” he stops short and takes a breath.

Henry’s heart slams against his chest over Alex’s unspoken words.

Alex swallows hard and blinks twice.

“I don’t mean to complicate things and I sure as hell do not want to scare you off. But I can’t lie anymore. To you or to myself. I won’t.”

Alex searches his eyes. “Do you want to be with me?”

Stunned, Henry looks away. It feels like too much, the question too big and yet too exact.

“I don’t see how this could work. We don’t even live in the same time zone.”

“That’s not what I asked. It’s a simple question. Do you want to be with me?” Alex repeats slowly.

Henry glances back at him then. Alex is being so brave right now. It’s both admirable and terrifying the way he’s able to put so much of himself on the line. Henry knows he ought to do the same.

“Desperately,” he answers truthfully, seeing no other alternative. “But I fear it might not be as simple as you think it’ll be– though I want it to be. I wish that it were.”

Alex opens and closes his mouth, color draining from his face.

“Henry. Henry, please don’t do this.”

Henry lets out a breath.

“I’m not doing anything. I’m only being realistic.” He looks around himself.

“We lead such vastly different lives. Being on tour with you was exciting and fascinating, but also illuminating. I don’t know how or even if I could fit into your world beyond this moment.”

He dares to step a little closer, needing his next set of words to be heard clearly.

“But, Alex, please do not misconstrue that with what I feel for you. Never in my life have I felt this drawn to a person. I don’t expect that I ever will again.”

Alex puts a hand to his mouth, rubbing harshly against his jaw.

“Then why are you doing this to us? I don’t understand you. We’ve been at this for months now. We want the same thing. Why isn’t that enough?” he asks, his hand dropping.

“It seriously kills me to see you do this to yourself especially.”

His eyes are so intense, a perfect cocktail of frustration and sadness. Henry can’t look at him for long.

“At some point, Henry, you need to accept the fact that there’s so much waiting for you, if only you allowed yourself to actually experience it.”

His tone isn’t malicious, but the truth of his words cuts deep all the same.

“I’m not naive or stupid,” Alex continues. “I fully get that long distance would be difficult as hell, but I also fully recognize that you and the relationship we could have would be worth it. What we have matters to me enough to want to try.”

Henry’s head snaps back towards him.

“It matters to me too. That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” Alex demands. He closes his mouth and steadies himself.

In all their time together, Henry has never seen Alex like this before, this indignant. The fact that it’s directed towards him makes Henry uneasy though he can’t deny it’s more than warranted.

“You’re cutting us off at the knees without so much as putting up a fight, without even making an actual attempt and for what? You don’t think I’m scared? I’m fucking terrified by what I feel for you. But I want whatever is on the other side of this feeling because I know it could be incredible if we let it be. All I’m asking is for you to trust me. To trust us.”

Henry shakes his head and looks away again, his eyes stinging. He looks around at Alex’s condo, the life he’s built for himself here in Los Angeles. For the times Alex would be away, he could be in any city across the country at any given moment. In just a few months’ time, the revelations in his memoir would be out and he'd have no shortage of far more interesting people vying for his attention while Henry continued drowning in his insecurities.

Yet here it was now, Alex telling Henry he wanted him. Alex was right. That should be enough. That’s all Henry has wanted to hear for months now, after all.

But Henry could do the right thing now, no matter how difficult, to spare them both the inevitable heartbreak down the line when they accepted love wasn’t enough.

Henry simply wasn’t the kind of person people ultimately stayed around for. Perhaps he’d be wiser and walk away before Alex could.

“I should go,” Henry says, wiping unseemly at his nose, nodding to himself.

Alex's face falls as he rakes a hand through his hair, his curls sticking out wildly at the ends. He looks nothing like the leading man on screen, the heartthrob that’s won over millions on television. He looks vulnerable and scared and Henry despises himself for reducing Alex to this.

“Please don’t. Let’s just talk it out. I’m not trying to pressure you,” Alex says quickly, voice panicked. All his upset from moments before fizzling like a fire being extinguished.

Henry shakes his head and looks at him.

“You aren’t. You’re saying all the right things and I know you mean them. I do. I care so much about you, Alex. I need you to know that. You deserve so much more than I could give you.”

“I just want you, Henry. I don’t care about anything else. You have to see that.”

In truth, Henry does. If anything, that’s what scares him most of all.

“I need to think. I need…,” he trails off, desperately looking around again. It feels like the walls are closing in.

“Time. Time away from me especially,” Alex supplies quietly.

Henry’s heart breaks.

“It’s not like that.”

Alex holds up a hand.

“I get it. Or at least I’m trying to.”

It’s a kindness Henry doesn’t feel deserving of at all.

Alex moves back, resting against the edge of the counter, his arms crossed to his chest like a barrier to protect himself. Henry can’t believe just how quickly he’s managed to become something Alex needs safety from.

“Maybe you really should go,” he says quietly.

Fresh tears prick Henry’s eyes at the gentle dismissal.

“I’m in no position to ask anything of you, but please, don’t hate me. I’m so sorry.”

Alex shakes his head and looks back at him then. There’s no malice or ire.

“I could never. You know that. We can talk when you’re ready.”

His tone is detached and whatever walls they’ve allowed themselves to lower over these last few months feel as if they’ve been reinstalled, built stronger this time around. There’s no fight in Alex anymore. It’s a deeply sobering and troubling realization.

“I promise, we will,” Henry says softly.

At least that’s something he knows he can make good on in time.

He looks at Alex again and his heart breaks just that much more. It doesn’t look as if Alex fully believes him. Henry can’t fault Alex. He knows he hasn’t given him a reason to.

~*~*~

The Uber back to the hotel the publisher arranged for him feels like the loneliest journey Henry has ever taken in his life, far worse even than leaving England for a new life in New York.

This isn’t how he pictured his first day in Los Angeles to go. Right about now, he and Alex should have been taking on the city, with Alex showing him around like a personal tour guide to all his favorite places.

It wasn’t supposed to end with Henry feeling as if he’s about to throw up, his stomach twisted into knots in the backseat of a stranger’s car, driving away from Alex instead of to him.

He fights back tears, having enough presence of mind not to sob like every cell in his body is demanding he do. No, that can wait. He’s already embarrassed himself enough for one afternoon. He doesn’t need an audience.

Mercifully he makes it to the hotel and gets checked in. The second the door to his room shuts behind him though, Henry loses it completely.

He isn’t sure how long he stands there, struggling for breath as he sobs, but he pulls himself together enough to seek out something to tether him.

He fumbles for his phone, overtaken for a moment with a thought to call Alex, to tell him he’s made a mistake, to grovel if he has to in order to set things right.

Instead, Henry pulls up Pez’s name in his favorites and clicks to FaceTime him as he steps further into the room, abandoning his carryon at the door and taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

Pez picks up mere seconds later.

“Hello, hello!” Pez greets brightly, his face falling immediately as he looks at Henry.

“My God. You look as if someone has passed on. Henry, what on Earth happened to you?”

“Pez, I ruined everything,” Henry says, his throat feeling so tight from keeping in his tears.

Henry feels homesick seeing Pez’s bedroom in the background, his posters of various pop stars and fashion icons in collages above his bed.

What Henry wouldn’t give to be back in New York now, to be somewhere familiar and safe. Instead he’s stuck in this lifeless hotel room feeling cut off from everyone he loves most.

“Alex…we…,” he trails off before a heavy sob overtakes him.

If this were anyone else in the world seeing him like this, save for perhaps Bea, Henry would rather die. But Pez has seen him through so many upsets. This one won’t be any different.

“I got scared and I took off and...he says he doesn’t hate me, but he most certainly should. I broke his heart. I know I did. God, Pez, if you’d seen his face.”

Pez looks anxious but he doesn’t push Henry to hurry along. He gives him his undivided attention and once Henry trusts himself to share, he launches into the full story of the afternoon.

Pez’s face grows concerned the more he talks and Henry thinks it says something about this story that Pez is uncharacteristically quiet.

“Everything was perfect. I don’t know why I did this,” Henry says, confusion coloring his words.

Pez lowers his gaze, his lips pinching together.

“What is it?” Henry asks.

Pez pulls in a breath, his cheeks puffing up before he lets the air out.

“I say this with absolute love. You are my nearest and dearest friend in this chaotic and beautiful world. You know you are like family to me.”

The preamble makes Henry nervous, but he knows he deserves whatever harsh truth Pez is gearing up to bestow.

“You’ve always had it in your head that you don’t deserve good things. When things feel too good to be true, it scares you. It’s almost like, you need to pull the rug from under yourself before someone else does,” Pez says, not unkindly.

Henry sits back and lets those words wash over him. It’s a fact. He’s always known that about himself, as much as he hates it.

“I don’t mean to do it. I can’t help it.”

Pez looks sympathetic.

“I know, darling. You’ve been hurt before by people you trusted. I’m no psychologist, but I don’t think it’s hard to see where it stems from.”

His brother’s and grandmother’s faces spring to mind. Henry squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, trying to block them out.

“Perhaps this time around, you might find yourself keen to do things differently. Seeing you guys, even from that little time in Denver and the way you talk about him…the fact that he wants to give this a fair shot…Henry, this could be so beyond amazing. There’s life outside your comfort zone.”

Henry runs a hand through his hair. He’s never been good at taking chances. His life has been a study in complacency.

“But what if something goes wrong?” he asks, searching Pez’s eyes on screen.

“On the severe off chance that it does, you’ll deal with it then. But right now? Hazza, I’ve never seen you like this over a guy before and I got just a taste of it. Darling, this man could give you a whole lifetime of happiness for all you know. It sure sounds like he’s willing to try.”

Henry’s eyes well up again, a sour feeling tight in his throat as he tries to keep from crying.

After a moment, he loses the battle. He allows himself to feel the hurt, to truly shed tears over the utter mess he’s made of things.

He wipes at his face, chewing on his bottom lip as he looks at his best friend. There’s no judgment or ridicule in Pez’s eyes and Henry wishes they were actually in a room together now.

“Henry, my love, my moon, my stars. Can you promise me something?”

Henry sees his confused face in the little window on the corner of his screen. Pez licks his lips, his eyes softening.

“Please don’t lock yourself away. Don’t go dark. I’ll be with you in just a few days’ time. Please try to hold on until then.”

Henry wants to be able to swear an oath, but the way he’s feeling now, he’s not so sure he will even have the strength to stand, never mind get back to aligning himself to Alex’s Crescent Valley schedule for the homestretch.

Dread courses through him just thinking about having to cross paths with Alex soon.

“It hurts so much, Pez. Everything hurts,” he says, a complete non-answer.

He can tell Pez realizes this too, but he must sense Henry doesn’t have much fight left in him. He doesn’t push the point again.

“Because it matters. You wouldn’t be feeling this much pain if it didn’t. Question is, what will it fuel you to do next?”

~*~*~

Los Angeles

Day 2

Though he hadn’t actually promised Pez anything, Henry does his best to uphold his best friend’s wishes the next day.

Every inclination Henry has is to stay holed up inside his hotel room, to pass the time by watching the sun cast shadows throughout the day until nightfall.

In all fairness, that is what Henry allowed himself to do after hanging up with Pez, but today, he’s determined to let go of at least one bad habit and not isolate himself.

He takes a shower first thing in the morning and makes a point to eat and get dressed in something other than joggers. Henry collects his phone and laptop before heading out into the world. It’s a strange thing wandering around a city he’s never been to before by himself, but it’s also pretty freeing too. He’s just another face in the crowd.

He sets up shop in a quaint coffee shop he happens across. He opts for a window seat, able to observe passerby as he nurses an Earl Grey. As his laptop comes to life, his phone buzzes on the tabletop, the screen lighting up with an incoming message that’s quickly followed by another.

Alex

you don’t have to respond to this message. i know you need more time and honestly? so do i.

Alex

i just wanted to say that, for what it’s worth, i hope you’re okay. i’ll see you soon…if you’re still planning on coming to the set

Henry stares at the screen, his heart twisting at the messages.

No matter what, the book ranked supreme. Whatever personal drama he was responsible for causing to unfold, Henry held fast to keeping his word. He wouldn’t let anything impact their professional dealings.

He’d see Alex for the filming in two days. There’d be little to say to Alex– if anything at all.

He could survive the awkwardness. After today, he only had to endure a few more days in California until he’d be back in New York, able to put this whole unexpected whirlwind behind him.

Henry sighs and sets his phone down again, opting not to reply.

He puts on his headphones and drowns himself in music and writing. He takes another pass at his most recent edits to Alex’s book but he knows it’s ready to go. He makes a mental note to find a shop in the area to print it out before closing the doc entirely and takes a look at his drive.

It’s truly a graveyard of unfinished pieces, stories he loved but grew discouraged by before fully completing them.

Henry opens up his favorite, his mind swimming with the memory of the promise he made to Alex, that he’d return to his original writing and pursue it in earnest this time around.

In a way, it almost feels like honoring the dynamic they were building.

Henry dives into it headfirst, fueled by the desire to keep his word in some capacity when it comes to Alex.

He’s interrupted an hour or so in when he gets an incoming call. Henry grabs his phone and sees Shaan’s name on the screen before he answers quickly.

“Hi, Shaan. How’s everything?” he asks, tearing his eyes off his screen.

The coffee shop is relatively empty; there’s no one in close range to him that he’d be disturbing by taking this call.

“Everything is brilliant or at least I thought you’d know that. Have you checked your email yet?”

Intrigue seeps through Henry enough to make him switch over on his browser to his inbox where an email from Shaan from thirty minutes ago sits right on top. Henry double clicks on the offer, his eyes catching first onto the insane figure at the bottom. It’s twice what he’s receiving for Alex’s book and yet he feels not even a fraction of excitement over it. He tries picturing himself working with this other actor, a name he actually does recognize as the man has been on the same procedural for half of Henry’s life.

Henry doesn’t even feel an ounce of interest nor can he even fake it.

“So? What do you think?” Shaan asks.

Henry frowns and looks out the window, trying in vain to muster up something to say. But Shaan reads his hesitancy for what it is.

“You’re really done, aren’t you?”

Henry closes out of the tab with his inbox and looks again at his own writing.

“In one sense, yes,” he says. “I can’t write for other people anymore. I’m losing myself too much.”

“Is everything okay with you and Alex? I thought things were going well on the road. Your passes have been impeccable.”

Henry bites on his lip. Technically things are far from fine with Alex, at least personally. But professionally, at least he can be honest and say, “I think he and I have been amazing together for his book. That’s actually what’s giving me this push now.”

Henry sighs.

“It was always going to come to this at some point. This new offer is incredible, but I just…I can’t wonder what if anymore. I still want to write, but I need it to be my words plus my name out there.”

Shaan is quiet on the line and Henry wonders if he’s somehow managed to break his agent’s brain. The amount of money being offered here is such a clear indicator that Henry is truly carving out a lane for himself with ghostwriting. But it’s not fulfilling. It hasn’t been for quite some time now with the exception of Alex’s book.

“I understand. I’ll decline the offer,” Shaan says. “I do hope this means you’ll get something to me soon that’s all your own then?”

Henry smiles. “I was actually just in the middle of that before you called.”

“I won’t keep you any longer then. Get back to work,” he orders, but Henry can hear the mirth in the command.

He’s ready to end the call when he hears Shaan speak again.

“Henry?”

Henry puts the phone back to his ear.

“Yes?”

“Pardon the sentimentality, but, I do hope you know that I’m quite proud of you.”

“You’re getting soft on me, Shaan,” Henry teases, but he soon grows serious. “I do though. I can’t even begin to tell you how much that support means to me.”

~*~*~

Los Angeles, CA

Day 4

“I feel like a bonafide star right now,” Pez says, completely looking the part with his cat eye sunglasses that he moves smoothly to rest atop his head.

He puts his hands on his hips and looks at the reserved seats in the front row of the stands with their names on it.

Ever since Pez arrived late yesterday afternoon, Henry has felt so much more settled. They spent the evening exploring Los Angeles, popping into different shops along Sunset Boulevard where Pez came across the very shades he’s donning now. Being out and about had been enough to take Henry’s mind off his troubles for a little while longer.

But today, there could be no avoiding the elephant in the room and Pez was armed at the ready with a well-needed pep talk before they arrived here at the studio for the reunion filming.

They take their seats as excited fans in the audience around them settle in too. The buzz is so reminiscent of the crowds at cons that, for a moment, Henry feels as if he’s right back on the road with Alex.

For the millionth time, Henry’s mind conjures up a montage of their time together on tour. These last three months haven’t had any shortage of good moments. But it’s these last three days that have put it all into such a tailspin.

Before Henry can spiral any further, the reunion gets underway. A video plays with some of the most popular, fan favorite moments of the series. Each time Alex’s face pops up on the screens, Henry’s heart twinges a little. The video ends with the final shot of the series, the Crescent Valley signage appearing as the video fades to black. The audience cheers and gives an enthusiastic round of applause that somehow gets kicked up twenty notches when the lights come up and the cast is seated on the soundstage.

Henry immediately locks his sights on Alex. It’s been three days and every moment, both waking and asleep, has been consumed with thoughts of him. He looks incredible, perfectly at ease among his castmates and before a crowd. Henry is all too familiar with this public side of Alex. He plays the part so well, Henry wonders if the other version of Alex even wonders or even cares to know if Henry is in the crowd tonight.

The reunion is an absolute treat. The cast recounts their favorite scenes and arcs on the show and divulge behind-the-scenes secrets. They share never before seen footage that hadn’t made it onto the show. In many ways, it’s truly a love letter to the fans. He can feel that with each tidbit that gets offered up, in every thoughtful answer to questions they receive from the show's creator who acts as host.

Alex’s eyes find Henry’s for the briefest of moments as they wind down and Henry instantly feels the air get knocked out of him. His skin tingles, his blood rushing so loudly in his ears that he can barely hear any of the closing remarks the actors are now saying.

He jumps a little in his seat when the audience begins to clap. Henry blinks twice and looks over at Pez who eyes him quizzically before looking back towards the soundstage.

Henry follows his lead and joins in the applause as the cast waves at the in-studio audience and to the cameras until they wrap.

All around him, people are getting to their feet, talking amongst themselves about the in-depth discussion with the cast but it all sounds like static to Henry as his eyes trail after Alex as he leaves with his castmates.

“Shall I see you later then?” Pez says.

Henry snaps his head back to his best friend.

“What do you mean? I thought we would go back together.”

Pez scoffs. “If you think I’d allow you to leave here without speaking to Alex, then clearly you’ve lost your mind somewhere in this city. I of course, being the generous person that I am, would help you find it. But only after you work your way backstage and talk to that man. We go home tomorrow, Hazza. This is your only chance to do this face to face.”

Henry frowns.

“So, as I’ve said, I’ll see you later, honey bunny. Ta.”

Pez gives him a kiss on each cheek before leaving without another word. It’s truly amazing how anxious Henry feels without Pez beside him. He’s practically been a human security blanket since they met years ago.

He knows Pez is right. This isn’t the kind of talk he wants to do over the phone. Alex deserves far better than that, especially after the way Henry left him a few days ago. Even if this time away from each other has somehow hardened Alex’s heart, Henry is ready to face the consequences of his actions.

He makes his way backstage, following the same path Alex and the cast just made.

A few members of the crew recognize him from his first day on set and let him through without incident.

Henry winds down the corridors towards the cast greenrooms. He hadn’t gone back here that first day, but the helpful signs guide him. He can hear chatter behind a few closed doors along the way, but he doesn’t pay attention to any room for longer than a second as he searches for Alex’s name.

He finds Alex’s designated room at the very end of the hall. He leans in close to the door, trying to gauge if Alex is still in. It’s silent but as Henry gets ready to turn away, he hears a heavy sigh on the other side of the door.

He knocks quietly twice.

“Alex? Are you in there? Might I come in and have a word?”

There’s the sound of rustling and footsteps and within a few breaths, Alex appears before him.

Henry’s heart sinks a little. Alex’s face is indifferent, closed off even. It’s as if he’s looking at Henry without really seeing him. For the cameras and fans just moments before, he was his usual vibrant self. Alone here now, the mask is completely off and shattered.

Alex searches his face, the only real indicator that he’s presently registering Henry’s appearance at all.

These last few days have clearly taken their toll on him.

“I thought you might’ve left already,” Henry says pointlessly.

Alex’s eyes haven’t stilled. After a moment, he blinks twice and shakes his head.

“I probably should have, but I needed a minute. Everyone is going out to celebrate in a bit. I’m not sure I’m feeling up for it though.”

Henry frowns.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spoil this for you. These past few days…I’ve acted horribly.”

Some folks a few doors down laugh about something, clearly in a happy mood. The contrast to Henry and Alex now is staggering.

Henry glances toward the sound of their merriment and back to Alex, looking past into his dressing room.

“Come in,” Alex says, stepping back so Henry can enter.

Henry looks around the room. There’s a clothing rack with a few of the outfits Alex wore during the promotional filming yesterday. There are a few floral arrangements spread throughout the room too, clear markers of just how much there is to celebrate now.

“I should have gotten you flowers to commemorate. But maybe you’ll like what I’ve brought instead.”

Alex’s brows furrow as he leans against the vanity, his arms crossed over his chest. Henry isn’t quite sure how to gauge what Alex must be thinking or feeling about his presence here. But the fact that Alex permitted him into his greenroom is at least somewhat promising.

Henry flips open his messenger bag and takes out the bound manuscript he had printed right after he left the coffee shop a few days ago, eager to hold this project in his own two hands.

Alex’s eyes widen, a soft breath pushing past his lips.

“Is that really…is that our book?”

Henry smiles as he steps forward and hands it over. Alex takes it from him, staring in awe and thumbing through.

“It’s your book, Alex. It’s your story. I just helped put it on the pages.”

Alex looks up at him.

“It was a partnership from day one,” he says and Henry hears the double meaning in it.

Henry concedes the point, his hands gripping the strap of his bag for something to do.

“I’ve actually received an offer to do another,” he says.

Alex looks up quickly at that, his hands clutching the manuscript tighter.

“Is that right? What’d you say?”

Henry smiles tentatively.

“That I want to end on a high note with your memoir as I leave ghostwriting behind.”

Alex sets down the manuscript and stands up straight.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Henry can feel his face warm up a bit as he nods.

“You were right. I’ve been depriving myself of a lot of things out of fear and it’s holding me back. Truthfully, it’s been rather debilitating most days. That’s no way to live and I’m tired of it. Of myself really,” he says.

“So, I’ve set about making some proper changes. I told Shaan thanks but no thanks on that offer and I spoke to him about wanting to query my original fiction. I went back to a few of my works in progress and I feel hopeful. Confident even that I might be able to make something worthwhile with them.”

Alex smiles at him, a genuine affectionate thing that Henry doesn’t feel worthy of but he basks in it.

“I’m so proud of you, Henry. Seriously. I can’t wait to be first in line to buy your books.”

This stuns Henry for a moment. For all that they’ve been through these last few days, it touches his heart to know Alex would still want to support him, that he’d remain in his corner.

“First I need to actually turn something in to go on submission. We’re getting a little ahead of ourselves here,” he says, aiming to keep things light a little while longer. He’s all too aware of the elephant in the room.

Alex waves him off.

“I’m speaking into existence. It’s bound to happen for you. You were given a gift. This is meant to be. I know it.”

“You and the universe,” Henry says, more so to himself.

Alex shrugs nonchalantly, crossing his arms again almost defiantly.

“Some things are destined. I stand by that.”

“Like, maybe, you and I?”

The words fall from Henry’s lips so quickly that for a moment he doesn’t realize he’s actually uttered them aloud until Alex’s previously warm eyes shutter. He stands ramrod straight and falls silent as he stares at Henry.

Henry’s heart beats faster, but doesn’t lose his nerve. He can’t afford to. Not anymore.

“As I’ve said, fear and, admittedly, insecurity have been plaguing me for far too long. I've stood in my own way. I’ve held myself back from opportunities because I haven’t felt deserving of them. Doing so in my career was bad enough. Now with you…,” he trails off, arms falling to his side.

“I’ll never forgive myself for the way I acted back at your place. For months now, I’ve been dying to hear that you feel deeply for me, as I do for you. Yet still I froze when it proved itself to be real. It felt too good to be true and so I convinced myself that it was.”

Henry frowns.

“I’ve become something of a professional at blowing my life up. I don’t want to do the same with yours. There would be no coming back from that.”

Henry’s lips quiver, but he steels himself, forcing himself to keep going.

“In your text, you said you needed time. If you aren’t ready to talk about us now, I’d completely understand. Maybe now isn’t the best time to speak of this, but I didn’t want to leave here without at least trying. I know that makes me horrendously selfish. I swear I’m not trying to be. I only wish for you to understand. To know that you’ve done nothing wrong. I hope you haven’t been placing any blame on yourself.”

Alex avoids his gaze. Henry didn’t think it was physically possible, but his heart sinks even further.

“Oh, Alex.”

Alex looks at him. “I thought I came on too strong.”

Henry shakes his head.

“Not at all. You don’t know how much joy you brought me. I got in my own head and spoiled it for both of us. That wasn’t right.”

Henry sighs and looks around at all the flowers Alex has been gifted. This should be a happy time in his life, yet now he was spending almost an entire week troubled and filled with doubt.

“I feel like I’m overshadowing and ruining your reunion excitement with all my foolishness.”

Alex reaches for his hands.

“Keep talking. You aren’t wrecking anything, I promise.”

Henry brushes his thumbs back and forth across the backs of Alex’s hands. He marvels at the smoothness of Alex’s skin, not to mention the warmth.

He feels water begin to well in his eyes, his throat constricting.

“I need to know what you’re thinking. You’re annoyingly good at damn near everything,” Alex says, though his voice trails off a little.

“Except for letting people in,” Henry concludes.

Alex gives his hands a gentle squeeze, subtly urging him to talk.

“Think of it as an area of improvement.”

Henry recognizes his own words from their very first day of this tour being playfully tossed back at him. Henry smiles a little in spite of himself.

“I guess…I know that I’m worried I won’t be worth the effort at some point. I know you mean what you say now, but so much is in store for you once this comes out,” he says, tipping his chin towards where the manuscript sits.

“My life feels as if it’s in limbo, a no man’s land. You have everything in order and here I am just floating. I…truly do feel like a ghost sometimes. Apt career on my part, I suppose.”

Alex’s brows knit together. Concern etched into his beautiful face. He cups Henry’s cheek and Henry greedily leans into his touch.

“Well, I can see you,” he says.

“Thank God for that.”

Alex smiles, his thumb brushing the apple of Henry’s cheek.

“All the same,” Henry continues, “I go back to New York for good tomorrow. There will be three thousand miles between us. Sometimes I worry…proximity has played such a key role these last three months. Soon you’ll have scores of men added to the mix who are far more along with themselves, with their careers. They’d be vastly more interesting and perhaps better suited for you than I.”

He stops himself, realizing how pathetic he must sound. But from the way Alex looks at him, it’s clear the other man isn’t judging or pitying him.

“Hen, I could live on the goddamn moon and I would still want us to try. You mean everything to me. I don’t care who comes out of the woodworks when the news breaks. And I sure as shit do not care that you’re still figuring some things out. You’re currently talking to the poster child of that. We literally worked on a book together about that very same thing.”

Something changes in Alex’s eyes. They grow fiercer as he lowers his hand from Henry’s face.

“I swear to God, I want to cage fight anyone that’s ever made you feel like you aren’t worthy because there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to be with you, do you understand me?”

“I do. I just…I don’t know why or even how I managed that.”

Alex swallows hard, his eyes softening again. He looks vulnerable and already it makes Henry’s heart ache.

“Henry, I love you. I love you so fucking much. You don’t even see how freaking exceptional and rare you are. I wish that you would. But I’ll be here to tell you every damn day if I have to because it won’t ever stop being true.”

Henry blinks twice and tears fall from his eyes immediately.

“I clearly have some things I need to work on. But I promise, I am in this with you, Alex. I love you too. Terribly. I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. I meant what I said the other day. You’re unmatched. You’ve had my heart for quite some time now and I know that you always will. It’s terrifying and exciting all in one breath and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The look of relief on Alex’s face makes Henry hate himself for ever making him worry or doubt his place in Henry’s life. He feels grateful now to at least be able to demystify Alex’s fears.

“So much of my life feels up in the air right now, but not my feelings about you. You’re one of the few things I feel sure of anymore,” Henry continues.

Henry leans in closer and touches his forehead to Alex’s. Alex hugs him at once and Henry sighs softly in the comfort of his arms.

It’s only been a few days since he last held Alex, but Henry has missed everything about this level of contact. He buries his face against Alex’s neck, breathing him in and clinging to the warmth of his body.

It hadn’t actually been New York he was missing when he’d called Pez the other day. It’d been here, the safety of Alex embracing him. Here in his arms, nothing can touch him, not even his traitorous, sabotaging mind.

Alex pulls back to look at him and Henry’s eyes sting with unshed tears, his mind racing with all the words he’s been keeping in since they last spoke openly.

Alex doesn’t give him a chance to say anything just yet as he leans in and kisses him. Henry’s heart jumpstarts, goosebumps rising on his arms as he kisses Alex back.

It’s still slow and sweet, but there’s an undercurrent of longing and anxiety coming from Alex. Henry answers it in kind with reassurance, imbuing the kiss with a wordless promise that Alex will never have to be without him again.

They break apart but stay close enough for their foreheads to touch. Henry keeps his arms wrapped around Alex as the man drapes his arms over Henry’s shoulders and combs through his hair lightly. It’s a simple gesture, but it lights Henry up.

There are still a million things he needs to say. Above all though, an apology seems most pressing.

“I’m so sorry.”

It hardly feels like enough.

I’m sorry I ran that day. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I almost ruined everything. He hopes Alex understands all that this encompasses.

Then again, he always seems to.

Alex sighs and Henry feels the slight tremble in his hands as he continues to stroke his hair soothingly.

“I’m just glad you felt safe enough to come back.”

Henry runs a hand up Alex’s chest, to the key that dangles near to his heart.

“I’m always going to find my way back home to you.”

#rwrb fic #red white and royal blue #firstprince #henry fox mountchristen windsor #alex claremont diaz #userthai #tusersonia #tuserpaige #usernicholas #usersteen #tusersilence #userjamiec #iuserzoe #uservalentina #kimmy writes

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