#Got em locked and loaded

[thalliumstraww]

solrblsa

[spotsupstuff]

wait a damn minute.

"mocinha" does this imply that nish and his city is located in the serotonin take's equivalent to brazil or am i going crazy

TECHNICALLY he should be located in Bolivia according to the map, with Moon, Pebbles and Wind being the proper Brazilians, but i told myself "if only just for the laughs. just for the laughs i'll close my eye a lil so he can be in Brazil with them" so ye! i specifically looked up portuguese for Brazil benefits

enjoy having Nish (n the other three) over there, brazilian

[resurrectedromantic]

what EVER. think abt nicknames theyd give u ok?

[garoujo]

i’ve barely been online 2day sob ! but look wats coming 2moro yayyy < 3

[cipheramnesia]

One funny piece of media criticism floating around Tumblr dot hellsite dot com is talking about making movies that are just fun, The Mummy with Brendan Frasier being a premiere example. Generally the way it goes is, "they don't have to be good, just fun." Thing is, making a fun movie like The Mummy is a lot of work. Exciting adventure stories don't just happen by accident, and part of the immense skill of such movies is making it all look easy.

I'm sometimes taken off guard by a movie that's better than expected - usually because they seem low budget and the summary sounds boring. Sometimes it's because it looks like another boring and cliche action movie. Plenty of those exist too, it's not like thousands of creators are falling ass backwards into brilliant filmmaking, Venom is an outlier. But it's really common to experience the surprise of audiences about some kind of big dumb action movie, and I think that's because so many action movies are big and dumb, few people understand that good action movies are smart.

You know what's good about the Mummy? Why it's good? Because it's a movie that knows every genre cliche the audience is waiting for, and chooses its moments to break those cliches with great care for maximum impact. It's good because it's direction knows how to build up great tension with the plot, through foreshadowing, through audience awareness, through genre standards. And the release is beautifully controlled. The "wrong side of the river" line is funny under any circumstances but it drops as a capstone on a very intense escape scene which makes it KILL, every time. When John Hannah's character turns out to be, against all the pre-loaded genre expectations and foreshadowing, actually a generally honest stand up guy, it's so much fun! Not by accident though. It's on purpose. It's a big dumb action movie but it's a big dumb action movie made by people who are very very good at making big dumb action movies.

That's really the thing of it all. There's now a hundred MCU movies that just turned The Mummy into a formula, they've carved out all the one liners and twists and turns mechanically, but they're not big dumb movies, because they're not allowed to be made with the kind of adoration of the genre that you get in smaller films, films that aren't locked into a three year product rollout plan. But you can still get big exciting movies if you look around for em. They didn't go away, they just got pushed out to the edge.

But I gotta beg again - take the time to recognize that when those movies that seem made without a thought or a care somehow manage to hit with you, give you a great big grin and a sense of excitement, remember that's not an accident or luck, someone probably plotted that out and made it fun on purpose, with care.

[boneblushed]

And, boy, you got her

synopsis Rafe’s in charge of the pledges during Rush Week. Hazing isn’t a thing. Making you feel so high school is.

wc 3.6K

a/n omgggg Euro Trip Rafe <3333 I was living on pledgetok last week and just couldn’t not write something about it

“Holy shit,” Noah mutters, surveying the crowd over his red cup, “I swear they get scrawnier every single year.”

Rafe nods gravely, taking a pull of his beer. “It’s fucking grim.”

“Like — fuck, look at those two.” Noah gestures toward the shaded veranda, a fresh coat of gloss making its balustrades shine. Huddled in one corner, attempting to take up as little space as possible, two boys donning UNC merch survey the crowd in tandem. “We weren’t that fucking scraggy as freshman, were we?”

“You two weren’t,” Kelce snorts, coming up behind them. Topper brings up his rear, mid-bite of his loaded hotdog. “Thornton definitely was though.”

“Oi!” Topper protests, his words garbled by half chewed sausage. “S’wasn’t that bad. C’mon.” He turns to Rafe then, swallowing his mouthful. “But seriously, you locked in any potentials?”

Rafe furrows his brow thoughtfully, looking back over Delta Chi’s yard. Unsurprisingly, it’s far too early to say. Though the barbecue that they’re hosting is a good way for pledges to mingle, it isn’t exactly hazing material; they’re going to have to get creative.

“Maybe,” he replies finally, shrugging. “We’ll just have to see I guess.”

He tips back his red cup again, swallowing the last dregs of beer before acquiescing. As he’s about to announce his need for a refill, a few pledges sidle up to their group, looking hopeful.

Not overtly, of course. Painstakingly hiding their eagerness behind an armour of insouciance.

“Rafe,” the tallest of the three greets, handing him another red cup. The golden liquid inside it brims to the surface, its white foam dissolving in mocking. “Hey, bro. You need another?”

Rafe raises his eyebrows, hiding a grin. “Shit. Table service already?”

The boy grins in tandem, looking a little sheepish. “Big fan, man. I’m Dylan.” He motions at the two guys on either side of him, wearing matching squints and backwards caps. “This is Rahul and Xav, we’re all here from Trinity.”

“Durham and Chapel Hill?” Noah enquires, whistling approvingly when they nod. “Fuck, we used to love having away games there. Those Trin cheerleaders…”

“Haha, shit, what was that chic’s name again?” Rafe asks then, a pull of mirth as he turns to Noah. “The one you messed around with in junior year?”

“Blake,” Noah answers, groaning in a mock-wistful sort of way. “They didn’t make ‘em like her at the Academy.”

Rafe snorts, sending the pledges a sage glance. “Nah. They made ‘em better.”

Noah raises his eyebrows, his brown eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, so we are allowed to objectify your girl then, Cameron?”

“Damn, so you’re tied down?” Xavier pipes up, his voice gravelly and low on purpose. Overtly masculine, like he’s trying hard to be red-blooded. “Your girl doesn’t mind you partying?”

Rafe frowns. “Why would she mind?”

“Uh,” Xavier balks, pulling at the bill of his backwards cap, “shit. I don’t know… like, doesn’t she get pissed that you’re constantly around sorority girls?”

“HA —” Topper laughs, and then he falters, thwarted by Rafe’s warning glower. “Uh.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Let’s just say Cameron doesn’t give her any reasons to be suspicious.”

“Because he’s obsessed with her,” Noah adds, unperturbed by Rafe’s expression. He pauses then, an amusing idea popping into his head. “Which means…” he continues, returning Rafe’s glare with a trust me one of his own, “you guys should be too.”

Rafe doesn’t trust him. Like, at all. He sends him a bewildered look, unsure where he’s going with this. “White — what?”

Noah ignores him. He downs his beer and crushes the red cup in his hand, deftly aiming it at the nearest bag of trash. “So,” he says, eyeing the three pledges with interest. “How serious are you guys about rushing Delt?”

“Pretty serious, bro,” Rahul answers, looking to his friends for support. “Think we got a shot?”

Noah throws his arm around Rafe’s neck, his strong bicep taut as he shoots them a grin. “Depends, man, I might know how we could figure that out though.” He begins to steer Rafe away from them, sending one last, faux-somber look over his shoulder. “Be right back, yeah?”

Rafe, whose bewilderment is quickly giving way curiosity, allows himself to be marshalled out of earshot without complaints.

He shrugs Noah off of him once they’re on the verandah, his features ever-bemused as he turns toward him. “The fuck was that about?”

“Bro, I know exactly how we’re going to haze these motherfuckers,” Noah replies, his voice lilted with mirth. “You know… without breaking any rules.”

The bewildered expression on Rafe’s face doesn’t acquiesce. “Okay… how?”

“Instead of getting them to be our bitches,” he answers, a mischievous grin making home on his features. “We’re going to get them to be our girlfriends’ bitches.”

Rafe frowns. “Bro. What?”

“Cameron, it’s perfect.” He swipes Rafe’s beer from his hand and takes a generous pull. “What do frat guys hate more than being called scrawny as fuck?”

“Uh. Doing assignments?” Rafe answers blankly, still frowning. He doesn’t have it in him to think too hard about Noah’s profferance. He’s on hour two of manning this boring event, hour four since he bid you farewell, and all Rafe can bear to think about right now is the imminent taste of your peach-scented lips.

Noah shakes his head. “No, dumbass. Being called a simp.”

“Wrong,” Rafe answers, “I don’t mind that shit at all.”

“You’re the exception,” Noah replies matter-of-factly. “You and Y/N have always been the exception. C’mon, I’m talking about us,” he places his palm over his breastbone solemnly, “mere mortals.”

Rafe narrows his eyes. “Fuck off. How would that even work?”

“We…” Noah pauses to think, a slightly furrow to his brow, “alright, I got it. We assign the pledges to our girlfriends, one by one. Give them a week to make a good impression — you know, carry their bags, buy them flowers, all that sentimental crap you love.”

“You really think the guys’ll agree to this?” Rafe asks, sounding reluctant. “I mean… I don’t know if I’m alright with a bunch of idiots holding doors for my girl.”

“But you’re an idiot that holds a door for your girl,” Noah answers, not missing a beat.

“Fuck off, White.”

“I’m serious. It’ll be funny. And look… if you’re worried about Y/N, I know she’ll find it adorable as fuck.”

Rafe shakes his head. “No way. She didn’t find high-school me adorable.”

Noah raises his eyebrows skeptically. “You’d be surprised, man. Besides, these guys aren’t going to be like high-school you. High-school you was a douchebag.”

“A douchebag who got the girl.”

“A douchebag who got the girl after he stopped acting like a douchebag.” Noah smirks then. “A douchebag who’d give all these fuckers a run for their money if he was pledging Delt this year.”

Rafe grins in tandem, stealing his beer back to take a big swig. “Alright, shit, alright. Harmless shit though, right? Chivalry and all that?”

“Harmless as hell,” Noah agrees. “C’mon. You really think any of these guys has the balls to make a pass at one of our girls?”

“Easy for you to say, White. You don’t fucking have a girl.”

Noah frowns. “What d’you mean? Aren’t we going halves on Y/N?”

“Holy fuck, Noah,” Rafe groans, almost spitting out his mouthful of beer. “If Y/N heard the shit you said when she wasn’t around, she’d probably kill you.”

“Nah,” Noah replies, seemingly unperturbed. “She loves me.”

“Well,” Rafe says grimly, crushing his own empty cup in his head. “She might do now, but she sure as hell won’t by the end of this week.”

—

The first time it happens, you’re understandably perplexed.

You’re en-route to your 9AM, bag strap denting your left shoulder, when a stranger falls into your step and swipes it from your figure. It’s a motion so quick and deft you initially think you’re getting mugged.

As you double back in bewilderment, he proffers, “you alright with this?”

“Uh.” You balk. “What?”

“Your bag,” he answers, readjusting it on his own shoulder. He seems earnest. Nervous, even. “It looked heavy. I can carry it to class for you, if you want?”

You allow a pause to take him in.

“No, I’m…” another pause, more of his demeanour on display. Backwards cap, crisp white polo shirt, smile lines exposing the ghost of a grin on his face. A familiar grin, the kind that pulls a soft, maudlin feeling from your ribcage. “Look, if you’re trying to hit on me —”

“No, no,” he interrupts quickly, his eyes widening in a panic. “Shit — no, don’t tell Cameron I’m hitting on you. I’m just…”

“Wait a minute,” your eyes narrow accusatorially, because of course he’s behind this chivalrous display, “you know my boyfriend?”

The stranger grimaces sheepishly. “Uh. Yeah.”

“Explain.”

“It’s… uh… well — basically, I’m pledging Delt,” he answers haltingly, self effacement juxtaposing his frat boy exterior. “Rafe’s asked us to be all gentlemanly and shit for pledge week, I don’t know. To you guys, I mean. Like… the current frat member’s girls?”

“Oh my god,” you groan. “No he hasn’t.”

“Shit.” He looks far more nervous now that he did five minutes ago. “He didn’t tell you?”

“No,” you grumble, pulling your phone out of your pocket. “No he did not.”

Rafe’s on speed dial. He picks up on the first ring, the way he always does for you.

“Hey baby,” his gravelly timbre crackles through the phone, the low hum of frat house chatter audible in the background. “What’s up?”

“Don’t even. You know what’s up Rafael.”

A pause. When Rafe speaks again, his voice is quick and placating. “It was Noah’s idea.”

“Of course it was.”

“Dylan’s not playing up, is he?”

You raise your eyebrows at the stranger then, assessing him faux-suspiciously. “No way. He’s doing a better job than you ever did in high school.”

“Woah woah woah,” Rafe replies, a playful lilt to his tone. “That fucker’s not calling you dream girl or something, is he?”

“Worse. He’s being respectful of my boundaries.”

“Oh shit. I fucking knew this was a bad idea.”

You shake your head in exasperation, trying not to laugh. The poor stranger’s still standing there at attention, your leather bag looking ridiculous on his arm. “Rafe. Tell me he’s the only one.”

“He’s one…” Rafe starts slowly, sounding sheepish, “of three. Four, counting me.” In the background, you hear Noah pipe up and add, “five, Cameron. How could you forget me?”

“You’re un-fucking-believable, Noah White,” you shout through the phone.

“I love you too, Y/N,” Noah sings, and then he groans, no doubt shoved to the side by his indignant best friend. It’s Rafe on the phone again, voice sweet and thick as molasses as he says, “they’ll behave, baby, and make your life easier in the process. I promise.”

“What?” You accuse, fighting back a smile. “Like you did in high school?”

“Fuck no,” he replies, the grin on his face audible. “They’ll be nothing like I was, sweetheart.”

“What?” You tease. “Absolutely insufferable?”

“And absolutely in love with you.”

You raise your eyebrows. “How can you be so sure?”

“They’re under strict instruction. Have a shiner waiting for them if they pull something funny.”

Another exasperated laugh bubbles out of you, and you begin walking forward again, motioning at the boy named Dylan to follow in your step. “Right. So the boundaries are on purpose, are they?”

“The respect, too. No being inappropriate and charming at the same time.”

“And why not?” You ask faux-indignantly. “What if I like being objectified?”

“Can’t have you falling in love with them, can I?”

“Hey,” you argue, frowning stubbornly. “That is not what made me fall in love with you.”

“It isn’t?”

“Well,” you balk, “not solely that.”

“You’re fucking sexy,” he recites devotedly, almost yells, and you can hear the collective groan of his frat brothers in the background. “Are you wearing those Lululemon pants right now? Point is, I’m thinking about your ass in those Lululemon pants right now.”

“Rafe, I was fucking kidding. Stop.”

“No you weren’t.” You know he’s right; you can picture that stupid smirk on his face. It makes your cheeks warm. Asshole. “You’re blushing now, aren’t you?”

“Anyway.”

“Anyway,” Rafe agrees. “No funny business, alright? Just lots of good deeds.”

Good deeds. You suppose you could get used to good deeds, the embarrassment of attention notwithstanding.

You let out a defeated sigh, halting in front of your 9AM class. “You so, so owe me.”

“I so, so love you,” Rafe replies, and it makes your pulse leap; you’ll never get used to this feeling. “See you later, yeah?”

“Uh huh. Love you.”

Dylan waits until you’ve ended the call before saying farewell, dutifully handing your leather bag back to you and giving you a mock salute. The way he does it, all sheepish and genuine with a charming smile on his face, makes your heart twinge in a junior year of high-school sort of way. You’re feeling sentimental. It’s sweet.

You’re reminded of Rafe before he was yours, stumbling over himself to win your favour. Confusing chivalry with courting, objectifying you in the name of flirting.

Insufferable, but sweet nonetheless. You digress.

—

The next time it happens, you’re ambushed at your favourite cafe.

A dutiful Delta Phi pledge has already queued up and purchased you coffee, handing it over to you with a blushing bouquet of tulips.

You raise your eyebrows at him questioningly. “Is that…?”

“Uh, an oat iced coffee with vanilla?” He asks, sounding nervous. “I asked Cameron for your order.”

“Didn’t ask me about pastries, though,” a voice behind you adds, rough and familiar with a sweetness around the edges. Rafe circles your waist with ease and pulls you into his chest, sponging a soft kiss to your temple before handing you a brown bag.

A glossy, Daily Bread sticker shines on its exterior proudly.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you look up at him expectantly. “Tell me you didn’t drive back home for a single croissant.”

“I didn’t drive back home for a single croissant,” Rafe replies. He grins then, looking that same, sheepish genuine that pulls a maudlin feeling. “I drove back home for twenty.”

“Rafe. Why?”

“Because you like Daily Bread,” he replies matter-of-factly, like it’s obvious.

You shake your head in exasperation, tip-toeing up to press a quick kiss to his lips. It becomes less quick against better judgement. He tastes like spearmint gum and cold brew, the hand he has held to your waist tightening ever so slightly. Slipping under your shirt, massaging the soft skin he finds there expertly, discreetly. Too much for 8am on a Wednesday morning, sans coffee. Your face feels on fire. You pull away in a hurry.

Meanwhile, the freshman pledge balks at the exchange, looking out of place.

Rafe frowns bemusedly at your diffidence, only clocking the reason when you nod over at him.

“I’ll walk her over Ben,” he says, dismissing him. “You’re off the hook, bro.”

“Shit.” The boy named Ben grimaces; he needs to get his hours in, and doesn’t deem this a fair ambush. He scrambles for an excuse. “Right. Can I still give her the flowers?”

“Of course you can,” you beam, accepting them gratefully. You look up at Rafe then, asking, “And if I want to walk with Benjamin?”

Rafe grins down at you, disbelieving. “Do you, baby?”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” you say, wriggling out of his grasp. “He got me flowers.”

Rafe falters, his eyes widening in surprise. “Sweetheart, I got you a croissant.”

“Ben got me a coffee,” you hedge. “And flowers.”

“Y/N,” he placates.

“Rafael,” you echo, unperturbed by his exasperation. You take a sip your coffee. “I’ll see you later, okay? Ben’s ticking off a good deed this morning.”

Poor Ben looks helpless, taking the brunt of Rafe’s glare as you motion for him to hold the door for you.

“C’mon Ben, we’re going to be late.”

“But…” Ben pauses, his eyes flitting to Rafe nervously. “This is fine, right?”

Rafe sighs, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth in defeat. “Yeah, bro. You’re good.” He looks to you, then. “You’re unbelievable.”

You smile sweetly. “I’m wearing the Lulu leggings.”

“Oh I noticed,” Rafe replies, his blue eyes falling down your figure in slow, reverent paces. “It’s why I want to be the one holding the door for you.”

You roll your eyes. “Men only want one thing.”

Rafe grins. “Yeah. You.”

—

By the end of the week, you’re more used to the chivalry than you’re willing to admit.

You’ve enjoyed free iced lattes and filled your dorm with gorgeous bouquets, no door left unopened and no walk to class left unescorted. And really, every pledge you’ve come across has been pleasant and unassuming, albeit absolutely terrified of Rafe and therefore extra obliging on instinct.

They’ve even offered to do favours for you, got you into sought after Pilates classes and done last minute grocery runs on your behalf. It’s put you in this constant state of mild exasperation, like you can’t believe you’re worthy of this much love and chivalry.

It’s exactly the way you felt back in high-school with Rafe, and this revelation pulls lots of funny feelings from your stomach, from your chest. Feelings you’ve forgotten that are all yours and all his. Because it’s strange, having someone other than Rafe taking care of you. (Or Noah.) It’s strange because it makes you realise just how much he adored you back in the day.

These emotions come to a head at the pledge week closing bash, Delta Phi lit up with fluorescent lights in technicolour. Inebriation ensues, beer pong follows, and an impromptu DJ deck plays endless songs with heavy bass.

Rafe Cameron has you pulled close, as always, the taut muscle of his forearm pressing heat to your exposed waist. You’re a few drinks down and hyperaware of his proximity, ankles touching, thighs too, torsos close with your head resting on his shoulder.

“I think I like Dylan the best,” you announce suddenly.

“Yeah?” Rafe asks, kneading your skin absentmindedly.

You nod. “He’s sweet. Told me all about his girl back home.”

Rafe grins then, shaking his head bemusedly. “You’re such a sucker for love, sweetheart.”

“Hey!” You glare up at him faux-incensed, looking accusatory. “So are you!”

“Shhhh,” Rafe murmurs playfully. “Not so loud, you’ll fuck up my street cred.”

You scoff. “Since when do you care about street cred?”

“Shit, you’re right,” Rafe agrees easily, leaning down to draw your lips in for a kiss. He’s all patchouli and musk, beer on his tongue and unchaste intentions in his touch. When he pulls away, his lips are still an inch from yours, his voice rougher than it was a second ago, “I don’t care. Like, at fucking all.”

“Good,” Noah snorts from behind him. “‘Cause you never had any to begin with, bro.”

“There you are,” you say then, eyeing Noah over Rafe’s shoulder. There’s a mock accusatory expression on your face, softened by mirth and the alcohol on your lips. “Have you been hiding from me, White?”

Noah grins sheepishly, taking a pull of his beer. “Maybe.”

You narrow your eyes. “Tell me. When did you become worse than Rafael?”

“I didn’t become worse!” Noah insists. “He just became better. You know, after he got the girl.”

You make a face. “Smooth.”

“Hey,” Noah raises his arms in surrender, looking faux-somber, “someone’s gotta teach the next generation, don’t they? I’m committed to their education.” He raises his eyebrows then, a mischievous glint in his eye. “C’mon, don’t act like you didn’t love it.”

Rafe grins. “She totally fucking loved it.”

You aim a glare at the pair of them, failing miserably at hiding your amusement. “So maybe I didn’t mind it. Sue me.”

“Of course you loved it,” Noah says, throwing his arm around you and pulling you into his side. “You love Cameron, don’t you?”

You narrow your eyes. “Opinions vary.”

“You love me?” Noah tries.

“You fucking wish.”

“Everyone fucking wishes,” Rafe says then, throwing his arm around you too, your figure wedged between the pair of them. Frat boy sandwich, you think tiredly. If high-school you could see you now, you’re pretty sure she’d have an aneurysm. “Especially when you’re in Lululemon.”

“Rafe.”

“I’m kidding. Not really. They all love you, you know that, yeah?”

You look up at him questioningly. “The pledges?”

“Uh huh,” Rafe replies, raising his eyebrows at you. “This is what I was afraid of, you know.”

“What?” You ask, lifting yours in tandem.

“Everyone falling in love with you, like I did in high school.”

You scrunch up your nose at him, your cheeks warming in diffidence. “No one’s fallen in love with me, don’t be silly.”

“I have,” Noah pipes up unhelpfully.

“Shut up, Noah. I saw you talking to Georgia just before.”

Noah grins, pulling away and offering you a mock salute. “Guilty as charged.” He turns to survey the crowd, spotting her figure on the fairy-light lit porch. “Speaking of…”

And he’s gone before you’re able to tease him any further, leaving Rafe to guide you out of his side and into his chest. You wrap your arms around his neck, his hands exerting a warm, steady pressure into the curve of your waist.

“As I was saying,” you continue, frowning up at him playfully. “No one’s fallen in love with me.”

Rafe’s unconvinced. His gaze skates down your figure again, a tortured groan falling from his throat. “Have you seen you, sweetheart?”

You roll your eyes, face hot and self conscious. “And even if they have,” you add, “it doesn’t matter.”

Rafe raises his eyebrows. “It doesn’t?”

“No way. Because I’m in love with you, not any of them.”

Rafe grins then, a devastatingly handsome look on his face. “I’ll never get used to hearing that.”

“I’ll never get used to saying it.”

[jarofstyles]

Haze

Hi bestie babes, here is a best-friends-to-best-friends-with-benefits piece! I am unsure if I'm doing a second part but if I did it'll be later on down the line.

Check out our Patreon for early access and 190+ exclusive writings!

Send us requests in our inbox if the mood strikes you

WC- 8k

warnings- use of marijuana, friends with benefits, biting, daddy kink, soft Dom H hehe

“H? Do you really think I’m pretty?” Y/N’s voice was slightly slurred, a mix of both tired and high as a kite from the joint they’d finished just a bit ago. The cool air flowed in from the window they’d cracked in order for her landlord not to get a call to complain, but she welcomed the chill. She always got a bit hot in her skin when the high hit her. “Don’t lie to me. Give it to me straight.

She loved smoking, sure, but she hated how it made her mind think about things she had purposely been putting off. Like her awful fucking dating life and how stupidly lonely she was.

Harry sat next to her on the sofa, his legs spread in an obnoxious manspread, his fingers messing with the Rubik’s cube. It wasn’t uncommon for them to smoke together- he was her best friend- but she wanted his opinion. The poor man was going to be subject to her insecurity.

Her string of bad dating experiences lately had made it hard to believe it wasn’t a her problem.

"Pretty? Babe, you're beautiful. Come off it." he mumbled, eyes still on the puzzle game. He was in that fluid mindset, neither here nor there. His reassurance felt nice but at the same time, a little vague. Her face contorted in a frown as she looked over at him. He was still baked, so she got it, but still. A little more would be nice.

“You have to say that. You’re my best friend. Tell me honestly, H. What is.. what is wrong with me? Because I don’t know how someone can go on so many bad dates and it not be a them problem.” It had been plaguing her the whole time and harshing the high. The words needed to come out. “I’m the common denominator.”

Finally, he put the Rubik's cube down and turned to face her fully, his gaze locked on hers. Sure, he was dazed from the weed, but he wanted to be sincere with her once he had heard how she had actually been a bit torn up from it. As hard as she tried, it wasn’t easy for her to hide her emotions from him. Even high Harry could see past the playful quips she had made lately. It had only been a matter of time before she had asked him about it and in his opinion, it was bullshit. There was nothing wrong with her at all. Y/N was amazing, but it was only natural to become a little insecure when someone had the string of bad luck like she had.

"Y/N, there's absolutely nothing wrong with you. I'm being completely honest with you, I swear. It's not you, it's them.” He winced knowing how cheesy it sounded but it couldn’t really be helped at the moment. “You're a fuckin’ amazing, smart, beautiful, funny, talented, kind person... I could list off all your good qualities cause there’s loads of ‘em, but m’high and can't think straight enough right now t’give you the fancier words like… exuberant? Pretty sure that one’s right ."

Y/N let out a little laugh. She could hear it in the low tone of his voice and how it seemed to take him longer than normal to say things when he was stoned and trying his absolute hardest to get that out, but it was a little cute. Too bad it wasn’t enough to get her out of her wallowing.

“Then I’m doomed.” She groaned, sinking into the couch. Her hands came up to cover her face, a tired sound leaving her as she tried to reset. “Dude, do you know how entirely and overwhelmingly exhausting it is? And don’t you dare call me dramatic.” Her eye peeped up at him before she fell back into a huff. “I know you get sex on tap but for the rest of us normal folks, it’s like a war zone out there.”

Harry snickefed at her little quip as he watched her sink into the couch. Letting out a sigh as he really thought about it though, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. "I understand how you feel, trust me. It's not easy for anyone. Although I have to admit, I can't exactly relate to your dating struggles, not really. I just happen to be lucky enough to have a very dedicated fanbase."

He was joking but… not really. He always teased her about this. The women who tended to hang out around the garage or try to get near him after hours to ride him in the cars that he just fixed… It wasn't hard for him to get what he wanted. Being good looking, tattooed, solid and single, it got you a lot of places, and a lot of ass. If only she could relate.

“Yeah, yeah. Slut.” She grumbled lightheartedly, kicking her foot against his thigh. It wasn’t fair it was as toned as it was. “You’re a mechanic and you’ve got all the rich soccer moms throwing themselves at you for a romp in the backseat while their husbands are at work. That’s nice and all, but the dating pool for us commoners is abysmal at best.”

Shooting him a glare, she grabbed the bag of goldfish shaped crackers and popped some into her mouth. “At this point I’d be fine with a friends-with-benefits sorta thing- but god damn it, I just want someone to love me at some point.” There was a moment of silence before she cleared her throat. They didn’t really discuss their sex lives and stuff often so she took his silence as one of not knowing what to say- which was fair. She was sorta dumping this all on him. In the grand scheme of things it wasn’t that insane. Everyone went through shit like this. “Sorry. I don’t mean to actually be dramatic this time.”

Harry shook his head at her remark, giving her a reassuring smile that had his eyes crinkling at the corners. He locked his gaze on her face as he listened to her speak, his expression softening with understanding instead of the smug joking he was giving off before. "Hey, s’alright babe. You're not being dramatic. It's how you feel, and I understand that. Everyone deserves love, and I have no doubt you'll find it."

He paused for a moment, considering his next words carefully. When he spoke again, his voice low and sincere as he knocked his hand against her thigh to get her to look at him.

"Y/N... can I ask you somethin’? And don’t make it weird.” He warned, making her unsure what the hell he could be asking.

Brushing the hair out of her eyes, she turned to look back at him with a questioning look on her face. “Sure. What’s up?”

Harry seemed to hesitate for a moment, unsure whether he should ask or not. It would most definitely change their dynamic if she was offended or freaked out by it, but regardless he felt like it it was something he knew he had to ask. He shifted on the couch, turning to face her fully, taking a deep breath and letting his gaze lock on hers before speaking.

"Y’know how you were saying how you're open to a friends with benefits thing? And how you're tired of being alone?"

“Yeah…. I literally said it like, two second ago.” She replied, voice slow and drawn out. She knew she was foggy, but damn. Of course she didn’t want to draw conclusions but she had to wonder why he would be bringing that up again. Her heart beat a little harder as she narrowed her eyes at him. “Why?”

His gaze remained steady on hers, his expression unreadable. He took a moment before speaking again, his voice low and slightly hoarse. Of course he wanted to be careful with his words, in the off chance this could offend her but he knew that he’d kick himself for not asking if he avoided it. He took a deep breath before asking the question.

"I was wondering... if you'd be interested in having an arrangement like that... with me."

Blinking rapidly, she had to be sure she wasn’t just hearing things. Usually she wasn’t the type to have hallucinations when high, but she didn’t know if he would ever actually suggest that. “Uh.. can you repeat that?”

Harry smiled softly as he saw her surprise. He knew it was a big ask, but he was committed to the idea now.

Leaning forward, his voice was smooth and deliberate as he repeated his question, this time with more confidence considering she hadn’t completely looked disgusted at the idea.

"I was asking if you'd be interested in having a friend's with benefits arrangement with me. No strings attached, just a... way to fulfill certain needs without the commitment. What would you say to something like that?"

“Yeah, that’s what I thought you said.” The nod was casual, as if that hadn’t just completely freaked her out. Not in a bad way! But in a…. What-the-fuck-my-best-friend-just-asked-me to-casually-hook-up-on-the-regular, sort of way.

“Uh… I’m not saying no, but I have to ask why you’d suggest that? I didn’t think you were attracted to me in the slightest.” It had completely come out of left field. The intent behind complaining wasn’t for him to offer but to get genuine advice from him considering he never seemed to struggle in the dating department.

"Who the hell said I wasn't attracted to you? I’ve always thought you were stunning.” It wasn’t supposed to come off defensively but he had to wonder in the moment if maybe it did. Harry had never once thought of her as anything but mind blowingly gorgeous.

“Okay, but you have to say that. You’re my best friend, like I said before. I just….” Hesitance grew on her face, looking over his own for any sign of joking. If he was, her ego really couldn’t handle another blow. “I really don’t want to be a pity fuck. And I also don’t want to like… no offense to you, I don’t want to sleep with someone who isn’t exclusive with me? Not like in the dating sense but like, I’d ask you not to sleep with anyone else for safety and I don’t know how you’d feel about that.” Maybe she was rambling but thoughts were running rampant in her already overcrowded brain. Asking him not to fuck anyone else felt like an overstep for some reason.

As she spoke, Harry nodded along, listening intently. He understood her hesitation and appreciated the honesty; it was one of the things he had always loved about her- But he certainly didn't want her to feel like a “pity-fuck” either. That was the furthest thing she could be. He could respect her wanting a certain degree of exclusivity, especially for safety. He knew he was a bit of a whore and he wasn’t ashamed of it, but he had full ability and sometimes the wish to be monogamous- more than he expressed. Granted, if it were anyone else he’d probably feel a little suffocated in an ask like that but… It didn’t sound so bad when it came to Y/N.

"I get it," he said, nodding in agreement. Reaching out and placing a hand on her knee, his touch warm and gentle, he tried his best to reassure her. "I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't find you attractive, Y/N. It's not about pity, it's about wanting a connection with someone I know and trust. And it’s not like it isn’t a convenience for me, too. No awkward leaving afterward, no like… ‘here I’ll get you a cab’ or saying no to a sleepover. We’ve slept in the same bed loads of times and you know I love a cuddle..”

Sharpening her gaze on him, she tilted her head. “Is this because you wanna do some crazy kinky stuff? Cause I’m open but I dunno how crazy I’ll get.” She was kind of kidding…. But kinda not. There were her own things she wanted to explore, but she didn’t want to be a lab rat.

Harry's eyebrows raised at her question, slightly taken aback. He couldn't help but laugh lightly at her tone, but there was also a hint of genuine interest in his reply.

"You really think I'm into kink, huh? Some sort of freak in the sheets?” Wiggling his brows, he teased her. It wasn’t as if it wasn’t obvious that he was a bit of a frequent fucker, but he didn’t have much shame in that. It wasn’t a kiss and tell sort of situation, but he wasn’t shy about letting her know he’d had a lovely night the day prior when need be. “Well, maybe. But no, that's not the only reason..." He let out a breath, a smirk on his lips. "But I'd loveeee to find out what you'd be open to, if we did this."

“Nope, you first, casanova.” She bounced in her seat, getting closer. Her nosy tendencies took precedence over everything else, it appeared. Getting to know more about him that was was enticing and she couldn’t hold herself back. “What's the crazy stuff you’re into? C’mon, we never talk about this stuff.”

Harry was open about the fact he had a healthy supply of offers and hookups but she had stopped him a few times from giving details. Mostly for her sake, so she didn’t see him as some sort of deviant- even if he was. Now, though, knowing she was potentially someone who could experience said things? Her curiosity was killing the cat. Her cat. Metaphorically speaking.

The man’s lips curled into a small smile as he saw her eager expression. He leaned back on the sofa, his arm stretched out behind her. He was throughly enjoying her nosiness- maybe for the first time- considering it gave him the perfect opportunity to tease her a bit more. "Oh, where do I even start... I have quite a few kinks, darling. But I have a feeling you'd like to hear about a certain one..."

“Okay… so tell me.” She rolled her hand to motion to him to continue. Patience really wasn’t Y/N’s strong suit and it was beginning to show, even if the smoking had initially relaxed her. “Let’s hear it. I want to know what I’d be getting myself into, besides greasy hands and the smell of motor oil.” Though she’d never admit how she’d learned to enjoy it, too.

He couldn’t lie and say he wasn't enjoying how intently she was looking at him, how her gaze was fixed on his every move. He leaned forward just a bit, his voice dropping lower as he continued* "Alright, y’wanted to know, you'll get to know like the princess y’are. But keep in mind, I've got a few of these, not just one." The taunting made her give him that impatient look he was used to, snickering under his breath as she bore her eyes into him.

“Okay. Lay them on me, tell me!” She huffed, knocking his knee. “You’re edging for no reason. I already know that one because you’re gross. Tell me the real stuff.”

Raising a brow at her eagerness, he leaned back again with his arm still draped behind her. He began speaking again, letting his voice drop a bit. "Alright, just a little tiny taste then… See if you can handle it. I've got a thing for power dynamics, darling. Particularly, I like to be in control."

“Mm… I could have guessed that. You’ve got the whole smolder thing, and you do the…” Y/N put her hand behind his neck before pulling it off. “Then you do the neck holding thing when we go out. You like to control where people go. Boss me around. So I had a clue. Give me one I wouldn’t expect.”

The perceptive observations hadn’t been something he expected, but it did amuse him. He reached up to brush a strand of her hair away from her face, his fingers lingering against her skin.

"You know me too well, little dove." He muttered, his eyes sparkling with mischief. This was a conversation he was enjoying. Not one he anticipated tonight, no, but one that had him on the edge of his metaphorical seat. His real seat was leaned against the back of the couch. "Okay then... how about this? I also enjoy a bit of exhibitionism. Kinky enough for you?"

“Oh?” She sat with it for a moment. “Actually… that makes sense too. You’re understated in public but you still get a lot of attention. Behind the scenes you’re an attention whore and stuff, which I know first hand but… yeah.” She huffed. “Damn. Can’t believe I didn’t guess that sorta stuff.” Another question popped into her mind. “Wait… what have you done with that? Are you talking like. Dressing rooms, cars? Or in front of people for real?”

Harry grinned as she continued to analyze his kinks, watching her as she went through it in her head. Had she thought about it before on her own? That wasn’t something he’d mind, in all honest. He chortled at her question and leaned back, his arm wrapped behind her. He didn't want to reveal too much but he was enjoying this back and forth. Maybe a tad bit more than he should be.

"You've got good instincts, darling. Yes, I enjoy exhibitionism. And yeah, both dressing rooms and cars are on the list. But not just that... I like a bit more of an audience sometimes. But that’s a different conversation. I can explain why I like it, though. Since you seem to be so curious.”

“Do tell.” Yes, maybe she was a little nosy but… it was slightly arousing. Harry was interesting to her before but now, with the idea of her being in those scenarios, she felt an elevated desperation to know.

Harry noticed how her eyes darkened with excitement as she listened to him and it made a feeling of satisfaction twist in his gut. Having an effect on her was something he hadn’t realized he’d enjoy so much, but now that he had a taste he wanted to see more of it. He shifted a bit closer, his voice dropping into a low whisper. "I like the thrill of being caught. The danger of it, y’know? I love that it’s risky, that your adrenaline pump and you’ve got t’be quiet. Or you don’t, and you have people see- when it’s appropriate.” That was something he’d experienced a few times. “I’ve had it happen before. Maybe I could arrange that, if that’s something you’d want. People watching, not touching, just watching me touch you... and I’d touch you plenty, darling."

“I think um, I’d like it” It was hard to talk with how her tongue felt tied. “I’ve not done a lot of it but I think I’d be open to seeing and doing more of it.” Her voice weakened, feeling him close to her. His cologne was warm and slightly spiced, his fingertips brushing her arm. Y/N had never experienced the sort of thing he was describing. The most she had done was fuck in a car. “Y-Yeah. I think that’s something we could um… try.” She cleared her throat, trying not to show how affected she actually was. It was hard not to. “What other kinks? Anything I wouldn’t guess?”

Harry saw right through her attempts to seem unbothered and he grinned, his hand continuing to lightly brush against her shoulder. He was enjoying the effect he had on her, the more the minutes passed by. It was a brand new side of her that he hadn’t been privy too prior, but now that he had a chance to? He was going to indulge.

"Glad you're up for trying it, darling. And as for other kinks..." He paused for a moment, his gaze trailing over her body before he spoke again in a deeper voice.

"I'm also into a bit of rope bondage, but that’s for another day too. The typical things you’d expect in kink too, the rougher stuff sometimes, but I really like working you up until you can’t take it anymore. Making you desperate, y’know?"

“Ropes?” She swallowed the shock. “Oh. Hm…” it made sense given the other things but for some reason she hadn’t expected him to be into actual ropes. “I’d have thought maybe more handcuffs but you do like being difficult, don’t you?”

It was a joke but it slightly intimidated her. Nothing she wouldn’t try, though. She trusted him to do that sort of thing with her, if they got to it.

Harry hummed at her surprise and leaned a little closer, his hand coming up to her chin to tilt her face towards him. His eyes locked with hers, his tone serious. It was hard to ignore how beautiful she was now that he was allowed to think that way. It was something he’d tried to limit his brain from indulging in before, but knowing he’d have all the rights to be the one to stare and touch her, he felt like a layer had been peeled back.

"Yeah, darling, I like being difficult. And I like being in control. But we'll take it slow, alright?" He saw the hint of intimidation on her face and the small act of rebellion he liked to see in her. He ran his thumb over her bottom lip, her skin hot and soft under his touch. “Nothin’ you don’t want t’do. I’ll make sure you're comfortable. Even if you’re a miserable little brat sometimes.”

“I…” her train of thought was stalled by the tender touch. Harry was… he was being a lot more liberal with his touches. Sometimes he was when he was high in general but this itself had her feeling hot under her skin. There was that intention now that this was slightly more than what friends do. “I can’t lie and say I’m not slightly intimidated by the thought of us doing stuff together. You’ve done a lot more than me.” She admitted meekly.

Harry simpered as he heard her confession and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He appreciated her honesty, understanding her intimidation. It would be the same for him in her position, but luckily he was going to use his advantage for good. "I know I've done more than you, but that's not a good nor a bad thing. Everyone is experienced in their own way, darling. And that's the point of us doing this... to explore each other, to learn what the other likes." He ran his hand down her arm, his fingers lightly tracing her skin, sending chills across her body.

His fingers curled around her wrist, lightly pulling her up and leading her to straddle his lap. This wasn’t at all where she had expected this night to go but… she couldn’t complain. With her nerves aside, Harry was by far one of the most attractive people she had ever met. There was no way she could turn away the opportunity to feel the way he touched someone romantically.

“You’re really okay not sleeping with anyone else in order to do stuff with me?”

Harry gazed up at her as she straddled his lap, his hands sliding up her thighs, pulling her closer against him. He looked up at her with a mix of desire and affection, appreciating her concern for his boundaries. "I'm absolutely fine with it," he assured her, his voice a low rumble. "I don't want anyone else." His hand came up, gently cupping her jaw. "I want to make you feel good, Y/N. I want to give you all the pleasure you deserve, and I want to be the only one doing it."

Y/N let out a weak sound as his lips pressed against the corner of her mouth. Having him so close was making her feel lightheaded, placing her hands on his shoulders as he tugged her closer to him, chest to chest.

“What do you want to do tonight?” She mumbled, eyes dropping to his lips back up to his eyes. “We don’t have to do like, everything and stuff but… I dunno.” The weed definitely made her aroused.

Harry chuckled softly, his lips just barely grazing the corner of her mouth, teasing her again. Feeling her body against his, her hands on his shoulders, it sent a wave of heat through his body. He doubted she knew that he’d started getting aroused when she started talking about what he’d be into.

"You're cute when you're bashful, darling. And high." He teased, his lips curving into a smirk as he spoke against her skin. "As for what I want to do... I just want to enjoy this moment. Maybe smoke a bit more, later. But mostly I just want to touch you."

“O-okay. You can touch me however you want.” Giving him that opening was bold, but she also knew she needed to just let him take charge. He said he liked to dom, so he would take care of her. Her eyes fluttered closed as she felt soft presses of his lips over her cheek, down to her jaw.

“You smell really good.”

Harry could feel himself holding back the pleased noise. The little compliment was a welcomed one, but he didn’t get them often from her. It was a new part of their dynamic but he couldn’t find himself upset with it. In fact, he was going to do everything he could to get some more out of her. He glanced at her, enjoying the way her eyes closed in response to his touch. Running his nose down the column of her neck, he took a little inhale of her scent. Sugary Sweet. Just like her.

"So do you, darling." He spoke against her skin.

In a test of how she’d react, he let his hands slid under her shirt, his fingers tracing along her bare skin. There was no stiffening, so he continued slowly moving closer to the hem of her bra. His lips continued their path down, leaving behind a trail of tingling sensations and wet marks on her skin.

The shaky exhale was louder than she had wanted, his hot fingertips burning a trail over her skin. He took the permission to heart, tracing the bottom of her bra as his lips moved down her collarbone.

Her breathing hitched as she felt his teeth sink into the skin lightly, a firm sucking making her fingers grip his shoulders tightly and nails dig into him just a bit. “Oh, shit… why does that feel good?”

Harry giggled against her skin as he felt her nails digging into his shoulders, enjoying the fact he was already getting a reaction out of her. He continued to kiss and bite her skin, occasionally sucking on the sensitive parts, marking his territory and drawing out more sounds from her.

"Cause I know what I'm doing, darling." He murmured against her skin before biting her collarbone again, this time a bit rougher.

“Oh my god.” She keened, head falling back as her hand came up to cup the back of his head. Fingers curled in his hair, feeling his mouth mark her up while his hand went under her bra, cupping her in his palms. “Fuck.”

Y/N felt the pulsing between her slick thighs, her sleep shorts riding up as she shuffled closer and pressed his mouth harder against her skin. It had been a while since she’d gotten laid but it was a little embarrassing how quickly he managed to get her to feel completely insane.

The sounds of her keening and breathing and the feeling of her arching into his touch was making his own need for her grow. His lips continued to work her her skin, marking and kissing and doing all the things he wanted because it felt like heaven to have this on tap. He could only imagine how much better their smoking sessions would be, how much more fun sleepovers would be if he got to love her up like this without a second thought.

“H…” she whimpered. Rocking her hips slightly, she rubbed against his bulge she could feel clearly between her thighs. “You’re h-hard already?”

Harry hummed quietly, feeling a thrill as she rubbed against him. His lips curled into a smirk against her skin before he lifted his head up, looking at her with darkened eyes. "Yeah, 'course I am, darling. You have no idea what you do to me, do you?"

Moving his hands back down to her hips, he gripped them tightly to grind himself against her. Give her a taste of just how hard his cock got for her. There was no reason for her to doubt. “You did this, sweet girl. S’all your fault.”

“Oh, shit.” She groaned, giggling at the end as she felt his mouth fall onto her chest. Wet, sloppy kisses were placed on the tender skin as she felt him guide her back and forth, setting a pace for the friction. “I can’t tell if it’s been a long time or if uh… if you’re just really good at this.”

Both. It was absolutely both.

Harry chuckled against her chest, his breath hot against her skin before his smirk widened.

"Mm, I would like to think it's because I'm really good at this," his hands guided her hips, setting a slow, torturous pace. "But maybe also a bit of both. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

“Uh-huh.” She nodded. “9 months.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at her response and tilted his head to the side.

"Nine months? Damn, babe." He murmured, his hands going under her shirt, his fingers tracing up her sides, making her shiver. Getting the reactions from her felt almost as good as her rubbing over his cock. "That's a long time."

“Just didn’t find anyone good enough to let in my bed.” She retorted, using her grip on his head to guide him back to her chest. “Take my shirt off.”

Harry didn't need to be told twice. He quickly pulled her shirt off, throwing it over his shoulder, before his hands came back up to her body, slowly tracing up her stomach, his fingers brushing over her skin. The thought had been there quite a few times over what she’d look like bare, but this was a brand new vision for him. One he absolutely adored.

"Beautiful." He murmured, his gaze wandering over her chest as he took in the sight of her bare skin, his breathing growing a bit heavier.

Her voice interrupted his inspection of her body. “Bra, too, please. Have to bite the bullet.” Despite her nerves that maybe he wouldn’t like what he saw, she felt comfortable with him. Harry wouldn’t ever make her feel bad. That much she knew for certain.

Plus… she wanted to feel more of his mouth.

Harry chuckled softly and nodded, his gaze locking with hers for a moment as he ran his fingers over the straps of her bra, pulling them down over her shoulders.

"You're so beautiful, darling. Don't ever feel nervous around me," his reassurance grounded her, his voice gentle but firm.

He reached behind her back, quickly unclasping her bra and pulling it off, tossing it away. Taking a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him, his eyes lit with desire. “God. You don’t even understand how phenomenal you are, do you? M’a lucky son of a bitch that you’re letting me touch you at all.”

Y/N continued to rub herself against him, feeling flushed at the praise. It was embarrassing that she had a pretty good idea that her sleep shorts were getting soaked, but she was swollen and wet and the motions itself of him between her legs were getting her embarrassing close.

Feeling his mouth kiss over the naked skin, she let out a moan that she hadn’t expected to. He was delicate but demanding, taking what he wanted.

Harry groaned as he felt her rubbing herself harder against him, his hands gripping her hips tightly to guide her movements. He couldn't resist the need building up inside him, the need to make her moan and whimper and squirm beneath him.

"You sound so pretty, darling," The compliment murmured against her skin, his lips traveling down her chest, stopping every so often to leave wet kisses, claiming every inch of skin he could. Selfish, possessive, needy. He wouldn’t deny any three of those allegations should she so choose to label him.

“It’s gonna feel so good when you’re inside of me.” She whispered, almost in awe. He was thick and long and she could feel every inch under her. It was almost intimidating to feel it and know that was going to be inside of her at some point. “But I… we have to wait for that. Wanna do that when we aren’t all… you know.” High. At least the first time they fucked, she wanted to be sober completely. “I think I could get off just like this, though. I feel so good right now.”

Harry nodded, his lips continuing to leave wet kisses on her skin, his hands roaming up her sides as he continued to grind himself against her.

"Impatient, aren't you, darling?" He teased, nipping at her neck before moving his mouth to her ear, whispering in it. "You'll just have to wait for that, though. But...there's always other ways to get us both off, hm?"

“Which way?” She breathed, eager to hear any and all suggestions he had.

Harry held her gaze, his eyes dark and full of desire as he spoke in a low, husky tone.

"Let me show you."

He gently pushed her back until she was laying down, his hands running down her thighs, pushing them apart slowly. Shifting his position, he hovered over her, his body fitting perfectly between her legs. His weight rested on his forearms as he looked down at her, she felt her world right itself from how it had been tipped over.

Y/N hadn’t expected the shift of direction but she liked it. Feeling him on top of her, she felt… delicate. Protected. Even if his gaze was predatory and hot, she knew he was good hands to be in.

She also hadn’t expected his hands to grab her shorts, pulling them off and tossing them to the side- but as soon as her panties were exposed, he settled back between her thighs. It was less of a barrier between them.

Harry hummed in approval as he got a glimpse of her panties, taking a moment to admire the sight before him. "You're so fucking wet, darling. Made a mess of those useless shorts. Panties aren’t much better." He murmured, his eyes roaming over her body before they went back up to her face. "And I fuckin’ love that you're all mine right now."

Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. Grabbing his face, she pulled it back up to her own and kissed him. Taking matters into her own hands, she felt him reciprocate immediately. And god, could the man fucking kiss.

Harry let out a soft curse at her sudden action but didn't hesitate to kiss her back through it all, his lips moving against hers hungrily. He pressed his body closer against hers, trapping her beneath him as his tongue delved into her mouth, greedily tasting and claiming her like he had been teasing the whole time.

“I wish you could fuck me right now.” She whimpered, feeling him rock against her. His cock perfectly pressed against her cunt and their mouths lapping against one another’s, it was heated and desperate. They couldn’t, not right now, but the idea of it had her slick and throbbing. It was unfair how her body was so primed and ready for him but she had to do the right thing. He’d feel so perfect inside of her and she’d be so full and they both knew it. “I wish you were inside me.”

Harry groaned at her words, the sound almost like a growl as he buried his face against her neck, his breathing getting heavier as he heard her whimper. He rocked his hips against her, his own need growing stronger with every second that passed.

"You have no idea how badly I want that, darling. But we can't...not yet." He whispered against her skin, his hands gripping her hips tightly. “I’m plenty patient, though. I’ll wait for you to want it, and then…” the pause was heavy. “Then I’ll give you every fucking thing you’ve ever wanted out of a fuck. Can promise you that.”

“I know. I know.” There was no doubt that he was fully and utterly capable. She swallowed back her desperation, wrapping her legs around his hips to pull them closer. “You just feel so good against me. I never expected this…” she whispered against his mouth. “But I’m so happy you decided to be horny and suggest it.”

Harry laughed, leaning down to press his lips against her neck again, licking at the skin as he continued to move his hips against hers, his body hot and heavy against hers. He lifted his head up slightly, looking down at her with darkened eyes as he took in how she had started to look a little blissed out. Just how he wanted her.

"I didn't expect it either, darling. But... I'm glad I did." He murmured, his fingers caressing her skin as he settled into a slow, steady rhythm. Rubbing back and forth, rocking his clothed cock into the sticky heat of her ruined panties, he knew her scent would be on them and that just sort of did something to him. Her own mark left on him.

Y/N felt the bubbling pleasure in her tummy. Feeling him rutting against her, the softness of his tongue as it brushed against her own, his hand curled around the back of her neck in such a possessive and firm grip, she felt controlled in the best way. Her eyes rolled back as she felt him grind harder against her.

“Fuck, Daddy. That feels so fucking good, feeling you against my cunt.” She purred, keeping herself glued to him. There was a pause of moment but she could feel him twitch against her, the sharp intake of breath as he tried to catch himself. It had been a shot in the dark, but one that hit the bullseye. “You like when I call you that? Does it make you feel good too?”

The reaction was visible. The man liked it more than she could even seem but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to play into it to see just how far it went. “Daddy… daddy…. Dadddy.” She taunted, whispering it against his skin. “You’ll make me cum like this. Just keep grinding into me…. Just like this.”

Harry groaned at her response, his lips moving down to her neck, leaving biting kisses in his path. The honorific had him weak, even more worked up than he had thought he could be in this scenario. Little Y/N was getting bolder by the minute and he fucking adored it. It made him wonder what else he could get out of her.

"You're gonna get it, darling. Jus’ be patient and let me make you feel nice, the way you’ve been wantin’ too." he murmured against her skin, his hips continuing to move against hers, keeping a steady pace. His hand cupped her chin, forcing her to look up at him, his eyes dark and intense as he looked down at her. "Daddy's gonna take such good care of you, Y/N. Don’t ever doubt it."

Harry was hot to the touch, her fingers guiding his face back to kiss her as he ground his cock into her. She could feel how it twitched against her, her legs keeping him close so they could stay glued together. “That feels…” she babbled. “S’good. So good, H. I feel so hot and I’m so fucking wet and I wish there wasn’t anything between us but we gotta be good. So good.” She rambled. It was hard to control what left her mouth. She would call it temporary insanity if he brought it up again outside of their arrangement, but the simple movements were making her lose her goddamn head.

Harry's breathing was getting heavier by the minute, his heart pounding against his chest like they wanted to escape his ribcage as he continued to rock his hips against hers. He felt hot and needy, every fiber of his being screaming to be closer to her, but he held himself back, knowing that they had to at least try to be good. He’d get to sink his cock into that hot cunt another day, make her cum around it and squeeze and milk every drop from his balls into her. That was something he was going to look forward to. But for right now they were testing the waters, and he liked it way more than he thought he would.

"Y’feel so good, darling. So, so fuckin’ good, can barely stand it." He murmured against her lips, letting the praise flow easily off his tongue. It’s what the woman deserved. All these shitty hookups and no one knew how to get to those little itches she couldn’t scratch- but he could read her so easily. Harry knew what she needed. "You're doing so well for me, being so good. Daddy's proud of you."

The last sentence made her whine out loud. Pleasure flowed through her at his praise, wanting more of it. All of it. It had been so long since she had been touched by someone else, and while the last person she had expected to do it was her best friend, she had also never felt this level of desperation.

Harry could feel her body responding to his words, her whimpers and whines making his own desire for her grow even more. He loved knowing that his praise was making her feel good, that she needed to hear his words. He continued to murmur sweet, filthy things in her ear as his body moved against hers, his need for her growing more and more intense with every second.

"That’s my girl, sweetheart. You're doing so well for me, letting me take care of you like this."

He knew it had been a long time for her, felt it in how she kissed. Selfishly he would be glad to be the one she got to take care of her. No one else really deserved it. Maybe he didn’t either, but he cared for her genuinely. He liked her and he wanted the best for her- so that’s what he was going to do.

“M’gonna cum, daddy.” She whispered. “I feel it. You’re getting my clit so perfect each time you move… god, s’so embarrassing to cum dry humping but I forgot how good it feels.” Or maybe it just hadn’t ever felt this good with anyone else. It had been a while, sure, but she hadn’t actually had dry sex with someone since she was sneaking around with her boyfriends back home. Something about it made her know that it had to be a Harry thing, though. That he’s the reason it felt this fucking good and why she was desperate for it.

Harry could feel her words shooting straight to his core, his body growing hotter in response. He could tell that she was close before she had even said so, by the way her body trembled against him, by the way her words got breathier and more desperate. Hearing her say so only made him more eager to get there.

"That's it, sweetheart. Let daddy make you feel good, darling." Harry murmured in her ear, his hands gripping her tighter, his body moving against hers more frantically now as he chased his own release alongside hers. She was going to cum, she was going to cum because of him and fuck if that wasn’t the sweetest reward he could think of- he wasn’t sure what was. "You're doing so perfect for me. Just let go for me. You can do it. I've got you, sweet girl."

Y/N felt it approach quicker than she had wanted. It was no wonder, though. Harry was giving her everything she didn’t know she needed in the simplest way, and he wasn’t even inside of her yet. She felt safe and appreciated as his fingers held her and his lips cooed encouragement to her, the rhythmic back and forth of his cock rutting against her poor, soaked panties, the heat boiling over.

“I’m gonna- m’cumming, m’cumming, I’m cumming Daddy- Harry.” She babbled as her eyes welled up with pleasured tears, nails digging into his skin as she came.

Harry's breathing hitched as he felt her grip on him, her hands digging into his skin and her body trembling against his as she came. “There you go baby, there you fuckin’ go. Yes.” He gasped, feeling himself tip over the edge. His name leaving her lips in a strangled whimper had been the final straw, his own release hitting him like a wave, his body shuddering against hers as he followed her over the edge. Shooting right into his briefs, he felt the hot and sticky load and momentarily mourned the loss of it not being inside of her, but it was quickly passed over as the orgasm washed over him.

"God, darling," the man groaned, his voice low and rough as he buried his face against her neck. Mouthing over the skin as he tried to gather his bearings, he mumbled sweetness into her. "You did so well for me, sweetheart. You're so perfect. So good for me. Sweetest fuckin’ peach."

The loud groan that followed her own had caught her off guard, the sharp thrusts of his hips making her cry out in overstimulation but she did little to stop it, keeping her legs around his hips. “What the fuck was that?” She laughed, head falling back on the sofa with her eyes blurry and wet. It was hard to think.

Harry couldn’t say anything, his own brain fuzzy and his body in overload after that climax. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, his forehead resting on her shoulder. His curls brushed her skin, scalp slightly damp as her fingers settled in the mess of hair and brushed through it without a second thought.

"Bloody fuckin’ hell, babe." Harry finally managed to say, his voice a bit shaky. "That was… incredible." He lifted his head up, looking down at her disheveled and flushed form, his eyes roaming over her.

It was just dry sex, but it had been better than some of the full on stuff he’d had. Maybe it was just their connection, their vibe, maybe even being high, but he knew it felt impeccable. This was something he wanted to revisit- and he would, especially when he was all alone with his hand on his cock.

“If it feels good like that, what the hell are we gonna do when we do the real thing?” Y/N blinked up at him, the flush of her orgasm glowing on her skin. She felt her body shivering slightly, her poor panties a complete mess she’d need to change into, but there was no regret so far. It took her by surprise considering she had been anticipating a bit of awkwardness between the both of them but there was no hint of it as they recovered, a light kiss pressed over her cheek as his hazy eyes looked down at her.

Harry let out a half-laugh, his body still feeling heavy and spent after that intense release- one that had been a welcomed surprise. There had been no prior indication that would be happening tonight but for as insane as it was that it happened, he was more than happy that it did. Getting to experience this side of Y/N had been something he liked far more than he could have ever anticipated.

Leaning down, his forearms rested on either side of her head as his eyes locked with hers while he spoke. "I have a feeling that the real thing will be earth-shattering." He said, his voice low and slightly hoarse. "The wait might kill me, though."

[humiliatemeplesse]

The guy in the apartment next door knows you're a fag from all the staring you've done in the lobby and in the hall and in the elevator. One day when the two of you were in the elevator alone he said "Be at my apartment door at eight o'clock, knock once." Then he exited the elevator and went right into his place. You were so excited, you thought finally, I'm going to get this awesome stud's cock and cum load in your mouth. Maybe he'd fuck you too. At eight you went to his door and knocked once. "Come in." You opened the door and closed it behind you and he said "Lock it." You did so then walked slowly toward his voice. There he was, in the living room looking at his phone with his feet up smoking a cigarette. "I've been watching you oogle over me ever since you moved in here. That's been a long time. You fags fucking need to stop making us real men uncomfortable like that. So I'm going to teach you a lesson that'll show you where you belong in respect to us. You probably thought you were coming over here for sex, right? No fucking way. I'd never let a dirty faggot put it's mouth on my dick nevermind put it up your filthy ass. So get on your knees and kiss my stinking socked feet. Beg me to forgive you for being so fucking disrespectful. Massage them to make up for your unacceptable behavior and sniff 'em too, smell the stink of a real man, homo." You were shocked by all of this but you were a faggot who did what it was told. So you got down on your knees and worshipped his stinking socked feet and begged for his forgiveness. He kept looking at his phone and occasionally slapped you in the face with his socked foot, and hard. He blew shine smoke in your face and you coughed and he called you a fucking pussy. This went in until about eleven pm when he said he was going to bed and for you to get the fuck out. He took your cell phone number and said he'd text you to come over for more discipline whenever he felt like it and that you better respond and get to his place fast, no matter where you are, or he'd beat you. You got up, said "Yes Sir, thank You Sir," and left his apartment. You had the feeling you'd be doing a lot of rushing to his place from now on. You were both taken by his demanding masculinity but also afraid of it. You'd do what he said.

[oceantornadoo]

part two - outlaw!simon x reader who was supposed to marry johnny (rip)

when you wake in the morning, there is no husband in your bed and an angry sheriff at your door.

the missing husband is a later problem. you snatch your worn dressing gown from your nearby chair, shirking it on over your night shift as you head towards the door. you grab your rifle on the way, noting simon had unloaded it when you weren't paying attention. bastard.

"mornin' ma'am." sheriff graves is a sunny character on your doorstep, western sun and a shifty smile. you mutter a greeting back, wondering why in god's name he is pounding at your door when the sun has barely touched the sky. "did ya have any trouble last night? there's rumors of an outlaw group on the edge of town." you shake your head, gaze holding firm. "no, sir. woulda shot 'em if i did." he nods, then looks down at his boots. "and that husband of yours? he at home, protectin' his wife?" ah, so that's why he's here. everyone knows you are married but no one's ever met the guy, seeing as he's been journeying over mountains and grasslands to get to you. sheriff graves is well aware of your lonesome self, just you and your rifle. "he's around, sir. i'll be introducin' him to yall soon enough. 'course, we're spendin' some time together as man and wife first."

his pupils go wide at your insinuation, not ladylike in the slightest. 'course, you are a barmaid, so what's to be expected of you? "i see. well, i'll leave you to your mornin', ma'am." if he really wanted to give you your morning, he wouldn't have woken you up so early, but you weren't going to give him that much attitude. "good day, sheriff." you close the door when his boots are still in its shadow, a little too close to be polite.

"you protectin' me, darlin'?" you jump at his voice, nearly scaring you out of your gown. "good lord, give a girl some warning!" he's fully dressed, hiding in the shadows of your pantry in a full-black outfit. you take in the bandana hiding his face, the all-black chaps encasing his thick thighs, and the holsters strapped and loaded. "you're up early." he grunts, coming closer. simon checks the door lock, then pushes you up against it with his body, his arms coming to hold the wall over your head. "had t' water my horse. you miss me?" you shake your head vehemently. "you snore. you will not be gettin' in my bed again soundin' like a freight train." instead of taking offense, he laughs, all gravel in your ear. "johnny woulda loved you."

you can tell he regrets saying it the moment it leaves his lips. his body tightens, that easy flirtation dying in the wind. "you miss him?" you ask quietly, testing the lines between you. "everyday. less now, i think. got a spitfire to take care of." unwillingly you lean closer, crossing your arms over your chest. "you better be talkin' about your horse." he grumbles something unintelligible, one hand leaving the wall to ghost against your hip. you're reminded of last night, of his rough embrace and warm arms.

"hips up for me, sweetheart. there ya go." simon places a pillow underneath your hips, the angle revealing more of your cunt to him. you whine as he stares, hips bucking as if to entice him. "y'r so needy, darlin'." you moan, one leg reaching out around his waist to tug him closer. he lets out a laugh as you line up your pelvises, the rough material of his pants rubbing against your bare body.

"i've been horny. can't fuck anyone when you're married, apparently." he hums, opting to trace the line of your jaw instead of the seam of your cunt. "still, coulda been a killer, yet you opened up so easily for me." embarassment courses through your body but you refuse to feel the shame along with it. you reach out your hands to find his zipper, tugging it down when he doesn't stop you. "you're no killer. if johnny trusted you, so do i." your hand finds his cock beneath the layers of his clothes, tugging it out slowly. he hisses when it meets the cool night air, already so hard and ready to go. "don't go makin' assumptions about me, sweetheart. there's a lot you don't know."

the fear hits you for a moment. a realization that this man could be lying completely, some stranger off the street who barreled his way into your home. you search his eyes for the truth, sticking to your belief in the good in people. you find it in his gaze; he's trying to scare you. you smirk at the thought, this big tough man wanting to scare you, a lady living on her own in the wild west. takes a lot more to do that. "can i put it in?" you refuse to acknowledge what he said, gripping his cock tightly and tapping it against your opening. he's already made you come twice, once on the kitchen table and another against the door, but you still need to be full. "yeah baby, put it in."

you shake out of your daydream, noting the moving path of the sun lighting the outline of simon's body. "c'mon, i'll show you where my stable is. and then maybe, if you're good, you can come to my shift at the pub later." he snorts, one hand on your hip. the feeling of possession is alien. you've spent so many nights dreaming of johnny, dreaming of having a husband, that simon's presence feels like something you need to wake up from. he could be a figment of your imagination, you decide, watching him untie his horse from a nearby tree and bring her over. instead of walking down that mental path, you take another step towards this outlaw of a husband and try to shake off the butterflies in your stomach.

--

PART FOUR

yes he's wearing the gunslinger fit idc but with the bandana (i couldn't find a good pic)

tag list:

@chickennn-soupp

@vmaxis

@samanthamarkle92

@sinful-tawtute

@nightingale2124

@scottpilgrimvsmyfists

@saucypeanuttt

[seraphicsentences]

hii mamas, probably stupid since youve been writing less, but js incase can i req ellie swiping through an album of videos and photos of reader, but then her mood is instantly changed when she swipes to a sx recording thta she completely forgot about? miss youu 😔😔

i’m sorry baby ik i suck ive been reaaall busy lately so i haven’t had much time for writing but! here’s a short one. working through requests slowly but surely. enjoy!

thinking about loser!ellie turning pussy drunk for you, or rather, the thought of you, in seconds. bc when am i not thinking about loser!ellie?

loser!ellie, naturally, never leaves the house. why would she— when she has her savage starlight comics stacked up on her shelf, her xbox hooked up, locked and loaded with a never ending amount of games, and most importantly, you, to come over whenever she pleases.

except for now, unfortunately. you had gone out to see an old friend who was visiting in town, and ellie, trying her very best to be a respectful girlfriend, decided to stay in (against her wishes).

as the pathetic, attached, and adorable loser she was, she had resorted to scrolling through her compiled camera album of you, which you self- titled “the prettiest, coolest, smartest, awesomest girl ever. aka your wife.”

she laughed under her breath, shaking her head fondly at the statement as she continued to swipe through countless candids, selfies, and clips of you. her girl.

she couldn’t help but smile sweetly into the crook of her elbow, head falling sideways into her mussed bed as she relived her favorite moments with you, which was really actually every moment she spent with you.

after skimming through an 8 minute long video of the two of you trying, and failing, to kill a small bug on her bedroom wall, it’s safe to say ellie’s heart was warm, and filled to the brim.

the next video’s thumbnail doesn’t immediately draw up any memories of hers, a blurry view of what seems to be her wall of space posters, so she assumes it to be an accidental recording.

but it’s— 18 minutes long??

curiosity winning her over, ellie clicks on the video, a loading symbol popping up on the screen briefly before sounds of heavy breathing overtake the room.

bedsheets rustle in the background, as ellie watches what appears to be her own hand scrambling at the phone’s lens, propping it up on her bedside table.

the view is what can only be described as filthy. your back arching off the mattress, legs tied to opposite posts on the bed as you writhe, gasping for air as ellie holds a vibrator lush against your clit.

“ah! ellie!” you’re crying out, ankles twisting and pulling at the grasps their in.

present-day ellie’s face glows a deep red, her breathing already picking up as she watches the screen, entranced. her legs come together, squeezing, as she begins to rock her hips down into the bed ever-so-subtly, clit grazing the seam of her pants in reach for the smallest sparks of stimulation.

she had completely forgotten about this video, the post-sex exhaustion wiping it from her memory, but it served as quite the pleasant surprise for her pathetic loser!self now. she flips over onto her back.

heart pumping, she roams her fingers across her navel, dipping under her boxers as she stares at her past self humping greedily on one of your thighs, head thrown back. your hands were gripped on the meat of her hips, pushing her down harder against yourself as she continued to shakily rub the toy over you.

her soft whimpers intermingled with your pleading moans to form an addicting symphony— ellie biting down on her lip as the tip her finger brushes over her pulsing clit.

“ellie, please, need your fingers,” you whine in the current scene.

“you got ‘em,” she hears herself husk out.

ellie groans, her finger twitching down involuntarily to press harder into her needy, puffy clit.

“fuck,” she swears under her breath, head falling back into a pillow as she fucks her hips up harder against her hand. her jaw drops open, head spinning as she pleads for your touch. simply yearning like the fucking loser she is, whimpering your name over and over again as she pants out heavily.

video-ellie has now ditched the vibrator, fucking her fingers messily into your weeping pussy as you raise a hand up to cup her heat.

“gonna let me stuff you up, els?” you ask, half-lidded with a surprisingly cocky smirk for the amount you’re dripping down your thighs.

“please,” ellie cries now, in sync with her recorded whines as she replicates your motions, a halfhearted attempt to relive the eye-rolling experience.

you, or she finally slides two fingers in, curling them impatiently to rub over that one spot that has her whispering, “please mommy.”

the phone falls onto the mattress, filthy sounds still playing in the background as ellie clutches the bedsheets instead, twisting them for dear life. her fingers thrust more rapidly now, sounds of her slick filling the air as she spreads her legs eagle-wide to reach even deeper.

how pathetic she is. this wet from just a video recording? this desperate for your touch? she’s nearing her finish already, beating past-her, which from the sound of it, seems to be getting edged.

her fingers jam harder into her g-spot, little uh-uh-uh’s slipping out from between her lips with the movement. ellie’s other hand scrambles for her thrown phone, dazedly clicking your contact and thumb searching for the audio recording option.

she can’t hold it anymore, legs kicking and squirming as she tries to get her words out.

“m-iss y-you real, real- fuck- bad. mmph please- need you ho-home n-ow, babe, g-gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum,” she rambles, her voice getting higher as she gets more lost in the sensations.

her back flies off the bed, hips bucking animalistically as she chants your name loudly, fingers still moving at lightning speed.

“miss you,” she whines quietly now, catching her breath and pouting as she slides her fingers out of her raw pussy, before hitting send with her not cum-coated hand.

yes this was short asf. n what about it? i banged it out in a zoooooom. ;)

[starboye]

pairing: cheating!nick nelson x slutty!male reader

warnings: smut, cheating, handjob, cursing

summary: nick needs more of you at school so you give it to him in your own way

"I need you" is the first thing you see when you open your phone after getting a notification "what" you text back "meet me in the bathroom in ten" nick texts last, you huff as you close your phone "who was that" charlie asks peering over to your phone "no one just a friend" you say smiling a little.

"and what exactly did the friend say to get you so frustrated" charlie asks now rasing an eyebrow "charlie it's really nothing" you chuckle "fine" charlie says going back to his work, you raise your hand and ask the teacher to go to the bathroom.

as you walk to the bathroom you feel sort of guilty knowing that you're fucking your best friends boyfriend behind his back "what if he finds out" you think to yourself before entering the bathroom to find nick in the stall eagerly awaiting you.

"finally" nicks says pulling you into a kiss "woah what was that" you say pushing him back a little "I dont know I just did it" nick say smiling "what did you need help with" you ask rolling your eyes "this" nick says pulling down his pants and his hard on springing out.

"damn why not just jerk off" you say "I tried that but I still wouldn't go down, I need you" nick says "fine but let's not make this a frequent thing" you sternly say before dragging nick into the stall and locking it behind you.

"drop 'em" you order to which nick quickly does "spit" you say holding out you hand to nicks mouth, he coats your hand with saliva before you mix yours with his and smear it over his dick before stroking it lightly.

"fuck" nick lightly curses dropping his head on the wall "you like this" you ask "mhm" nick groans through tight lips "don't be shy let out those sweet moans I heard this morning" you whisper tightening your hand around nicks dick.

"ngh mmm" nick stammers "yeahhh just like that" you say, the only sounds being heard in the bathroom are the slickness of your hand stroking nicks dick, you kiss nick deeply as he moans into your mouth.

"m'gonna cum" nick gasps thrusting into your hand desperately "you can hold it longer" you say stopping nicks hips from moving "please" nick whimpers with light watery eyes.

"just a little more" you coo kissing nicks jawline "you got this for me" you say "fine" nick huffs "good boy" you compliment "call me that again" nick says through a moan "what, good boy" you ask "mhm" nick manages to get out.

"you're my good boy" you say running your finger across nicks v line making him shudder under your touch "your hands are so soft" nick whines "well thank you, I'm very talented with them" you say "wanna see how" "yes please" nick nods eagerly.

you rub your thumb along the slit of nick dick, taking long strokes from the shaft all the way to his sensitive tip "fuck it feels so good" nick brokenly moans "can I please cum how y/n" nick pleas.

"fine I guess you deserved it" you say quickening your pace on nicks dick and rubbing his tip extra hard making the whole restroom fill up with nicks vulgar sounds "nghhh" nick longingly moans as he cums all over your hand"

"you can really cum loads" you chuckle licking the cum off your fingers as you stare at nick "we could go again" nick grins with lust in his eyes "mm as much as I would love that I gotta get back to your boyfriend aka my best friend" you smile "c'mon you could spare another couple of minutes" nick pleas

"nope a few minutes for you turns into an hour for me, and I know from experience big boy" you joke rubbing nicks cummy tip one more time before putting it back in his pants "fine" nick whines pulling his pants back up before trying to go in for a kiss.

"still a no" you say blocking his kiss "so then what would you call this" nick asks "a friends with benefits" you smile as you walk out the bathroom and walking back to class with a big smile as you sit down."and what has you so chipper" charlie asks "nothing just happy" you say before getting back to your work.

[yanderenightmare]

i saw this thing a while back that i thought you’d be able to write quite well. it was responses to darling saying “it hurts” but it gets meaner and meaner. love ur work 🦋

Todoroki Touya - Dabi

TW: NSFW, noncon/dubcon, hints of forced piercings, piercings in general

fem reader

Dabi doesn’t really need an excuse to be cruel to you. He just likes the way you sing his name – how it comes out in a sticky whine, filtered with hurt and something else, something sweet.

“Dabi, please – it hurts.”

“Yea? I bet~" He drawls with a simper. "You’re really tight when I don’t prep you.”

He's got a lazily loving expression on his face – looking down at you. Brows cinched, lips curled cutely up into a pretty pout – eyes wide with tears, pleading for any pity he might feel for you.

But mercy is a distant thing he doesn’t remember the taste of. So instead, he musters up some mockery of it and flicks your clit right above where he's skewered his fat ribbed self inside you.

He'd gotten some new piercings he wanted to try out – a ladder of pins running up the spine of his shaft – as well as a stud at the very tip that poked your cervix when he’d sunk all the way inside you.

“Please, Dabi – take it out,” You cried, twisting against the sheets – whole body worming for comfort – but no matter how you shifted, the thickness inside stayed stored all the way up to the hilt. His free hand pinning yours above your head as he pressed his hips flush against your ass.

“Come on, angel-tits~” He cooed with a toothy grin – sapphire eyes drunk while enjoying you, chittering at your whimpers while he kneaded himself inside the coziest depth of your cunt. “I got ’em for you~ least you can do is say thanks~”

He pinched your clit, and it tightened you up as he started rocking against you. Whistling at the grip, he chewed his lip in a smirk whilst pumping the wet out of you one deep thrust at a time.

“Actin’ so coy on me – but you’re fuckin’ soaked like always, angel…” 

Your whining turned to moaning, though still a little teary. Squealing when he dipped to suck your tit – running his tongue piercing over the pretty silver beads he’d given your nipples some while ago – making them so sensitive, so eager for the warmth of his mouth – having you all but coil your legs around his torso, pulling him as close as you could with hips stuttering – squeezing him tight in flutters. 

“Tch – would you look at that…” He scoffed lightly, face both amused and endeared, kissing your cheek as though in praise. “Looks like you like ‘em after all.”

You’re chagrinned beneath him, still with a few after-thrills simmering between your thighs, causing you to clench on him still.

He gave your pearl another swirl, pulling another whine from your throat. “Dabi-” But he caught it with his mouth, giving you his tongue with a groan while starting up his pace again – keeping his mouth locked on yours until he dumped his load in deep.

You cringed some at the warmth. You wished he’d use a condom – not that he’s ever bothered to, but you guess even the option is gone now that he’s all but armed his cock.

He gives you a goofy grin while looking down at you. Giddy from cumming. Still with two digits on your pearl.

The cheekiness in his eyes tells you he’s thinking about something – and something about it makes you not want to know what.

 “Maybe this little clitty is due some silver next, hm?”

[luvrdrop]

#“ SPOIL HER “ !!

ft. chifuyu matsuno x afab reader!

synop: you and your boyfriend went out shopping and he was mesmerized by not only the skirt you had on, but the skimpy clothes you were picking.

cont: public sex ( in a sex store bathroom ), fingering ( f receving! ), sucking dick while driving loll, petnames sweetie, sweetheart, pretty, baby!, unprotected sex!

“ you ready yet, princess? “ chifuyu called out after turning the kitchen light off before you popped out from down the hallway, purse and phone in hand. chifuyu found himself looking you up and down, at the outfit you had chosen. a cute little crop top, with a very short skirt. he wasn’t going to scold you or tell you to change, chifuyu wasn’t that type of boyfriend.

he enjoyed seeing you all happy to dress up in your little outfits and twirling around in the mirror when you found something you liked. he could never break your little heart by telling you to change. after you both loaded in the car, he drove you to the mall. where you would be spending most of your day.

chifuyu held your bags as you went from store to store, picking out shoes, bags, clothes, anything cute you laid your pretty little eyes on. he never cared about a price, no amount of money spent could compare to the sweet smile plastered over your face when you got what you wanted, you were just too cute. and quite honestly, you gave him a run for his money without even realized. even when you tried to decline his offers of buy the things you may have shown liking to, he was always a step ahead, already placing it in the cart or adding it to his digital cart ready to check it out.

he had no will in his heart to tell you no.

after a couple of hours of shopping, you landed in a sex store. you were looking around at the lingerie and cute little toys they had. you bent down in front of chifuyu to look at something and he almost lost it. the way your ass looked, poked up in the air like that had him going insane. and you kept doing it, as if it was on purpose. so when you found yourself in the bathroom, pressed up against the wall with your boyfriend’s tongue all over your neck, you weren’t surprised.

you were panting, as he licked and sucked leaving dark marks all over your chest and neck, your thighs clenching together. “ f-fuyu.. please.. “ you whimpered out for him to touch you more, anywhere. “ mmm? “ he asked while he lapped at the fat dark mark left on your skin. “ what you want baby? “ he asked, looking up at you with a shit eating grin. “ fuyu.. it’s-.. drippin out.. “ you stammered, feeling a bit of your arousal leaking down your trembling thigh. “ would’ya look at that.. “ you looked down and seen that your boyfriend was almost on his knees, peeping under your skirt.

he smirked at the sight of your throbbing cunt, dripping with slick. “ you didn’t put any panties on.. you forgot baby? “ he asked sweetly, running his finger up your thigh to catch the dripping wetness, before rubbing that same finger up and down your clit. “ hngh- fuyu! “ you cried out, reaching down to grab at his arm. “ ah ah, stop. don’t touch me, sweet girl. “ he demanded. you whined out at the command. “ s’ okay, pretty. i’ll help you.. spread em. “ he pulled your legs apart a bit as you leaned on the bathroom sink, you felt him push you back further, so you held onto the side of the sink, placing your weight on it and lifting your thighs, “ baby.. you look so pretty like this.. “ he said as he placed two fingers into your sopping hole, his eyes were locked to yours. as you felt his digits enter you, you gasped. this caused him to rub his thumb on your clit to soothe you.

“ s’ okay, baby. “ he cooed, his eyes were now amusingly watching how your pussy sucked in his fingers, drenching almost his whole entire hand. your head threw back in pleasure as he finger fucked you into oblivion. you gripped onto the cold sink, your rings clinking against it as you squeezed on it, chifuyu sped up his finger movements, you were getting close already.

you felt a hand clasp around the back of your head pulling you upwards just enough to look straight forward, you were met with your boyfriend’s pretty eyes. “ you’re so cute, baby.. “ he said, his voice low and sensual. you felt like you were going to lose your mind. “ you can’t cum.. not yet, sweetheart. “ he pulled his fingers out of you, leaving you to whine from the feeling of him pulling away from you. he helped you down on your two shaky knees, heading to pay for your items as you walked behind him like a lost puppy in heat.

the car ride started with him teasing you while he drove, every red light he’d pull you to kiss him pushing his tongue down your throat while you sucked on it, your pussy was dripping all over the leather seats of his car. you were aching to feel him, you found yourself leaving over the arm rest and pulling down on the zipper of his pants. “ baby.. you’re such a good girl. gonna make me feel good? “ you nodded to his question while you pulled his cock out of his pants. he was hard, you started by letting a big wet glob of your spit land onto his tip as you stroked it with your hand. you felt him tense up at the feeling, you then placed your lips onto the tip of his dick, before pushing down until he reached the hilt of your throat. you moved up and down, reaching your hand down to cup his balls, massaging them. “ ah- fuck, baby. you’re so so good to me.. “ he moaned to you as this left hand found it’s way to your head, he didn’t push you, he just rested his hand there. you went faster wanting him to bust all over your face and down your throat but sadly, your wishes were denied when you felt him pull up into the drive way.

he pulled his pants up and placed a quick kiss on your lips. “ cmon, sweetie. “ he got out before quickly heading to your side to help you out of the car. he lifted you and held you, making his way into the house with you in his arms. he locked the door behind the both if you before leading you to the bedroom and laying you flat on the bed. “ chifuyu.. i want you.. “ you whined out reaching out for him. he tilted his head, “ oh yeah? want me to fuck you silly, baby? “ you nodded frantically. he tucked his fingers under the waistband of the mini skirt you had on, pulling it down and placing it somewhere on the floor, he also lifted the crop top you wore and unclasped your bra, leaving you completely naked.

he leaned down, wrapping his pink lips around your sore, perky nipples. you moaned at the feeling as he lapped at your breasts, meanwhile he was pulling down the pants he had on all day, freeing his cock to bounce up against your thigh. he lifted up with a few strands of his hair stuck on his forehead from him sweating. “ you ready, baby? “ he asked as you felt his tip lining up with your hole. you nodded again and he shook his head. “ no baby, tell me. “ he rested his elbow on the side of your head, caging you. “ yes.. please. “ you pleased, wanting to feel him deep inside you, and he pushed until he was buried inside you til the hilt. your eyes were already rolling towards the back of your head at the stretch he gave you like always. it was something that you still haven’t gotten used to.

this lasted for what seemed to be hours as he relentlessly pounded into you. you could hear it, the squelching sound of your sex’s colliding together. “ so pretty.. “ he whispered to you, his hand creeping up to land around your throat slightly pushing. his abdomen lay flat against your pelvis while he pushed you into the soaked sheets and mattress. “ oh my god… fuck.. “ you moaned out grabbing onto him as you did anytime you were close, anytime you felt that knot of burning pleasure building into your stomach.

“ you’re close, baby? “ he asked as you felt his thumb slid up to your lip, parting your two lips and resting flat on your tongue while you sucked on the digit, he pulled his thumb out of your mouth and placed it onto your almost numb clit as he bullied his cock into you, you nodded to his question. he circled his thumb fast over your nub, making your orgasm squirt out of you like a waterfall. you let out a loud cry at the pleasure spreading all over your body. “ shit baby… you gonna let me come inside? “ he asked and you whined pushing your hips up into his thrusts as he pushed his seed into your womb, feeling the hot semen settle into you.

chifuyu cleaned you up afterwards and snuggled you up in the sheets before grabbing your favorite snacks and turning on a show he knew you liked but when he got back you were asleep, so he placed the drinks in the mini fridge and put the snacks on the night stand before getting in bed, cuddling up to you.

“ i love you sweetheart, goodnight. “ as he kissed your forehead.

a/n: WAAAAA OMG this was so hard to write because my work kept getting deleted after i wrote it :(( i need to figure out what’s best to write on!! this is shorter than i expected but i hope that it’s good for now!! happy fourth of july & i have a few asks now that i have this out of the way i can work on those!! thank you all so much for the support and love!!

©️luvrdrop <3 reblogs are appreciated!!

( not proofread! )

[d0youc0py]

I am ✨obsessed✨ with your page rn and would absolutely devour literally anything you give us.

I’d love to see your take on a kidnap/break in fic though!

Something like they’re coming home from deployment and their girlfriend/wife calls them (or laswell) freaking out about a weird car outside, or someone following them home.

Just damsel in distress x protective husband vibes all the way 💕

“If we’re gonna go after them we’ve got to do it tonight. They’re expecting us to wait till they get further south.”

“What about all the civilians in the city?”

“No explosives. Everyone keep your silencers on. They won’t know till mornin’.”

“Ghost has a point. If we wait till next week our chances of hittin’ ‘em are slim. They aren’t expecting it now.”

“Yeah, they aren’t expecting it because it’s too damn risky. We do it tonight they have home advantage. We wait- all of us are on an even playing field.”

“They outnumber us 10-1. We’ll never be even.”

A knock at the door halted the conversation. A errand boy stuck his head in.

“Sorry to interrupt but this came for Lieutenant Ghost. Labeled urgent.” He held out a yellow package for Ghost.

“Thanks.” Price nodded his head, politely dismissing him.

“Johnny I’ve dealt with groups like this before.” Ghost spoke tearing open the flap of the package. “We need to get ‘em while their sitting pretty.” He blindly reached his hand into the package, his brow furrowing when he touched something soft. He pulled out a clump of hair.

His right leg gave out and he grabbed the table to steady himself.

“Ghost?” Price questioned. He gripped Ghost arms to steady him- and also urge him to give him an answer.

“No.” Ghost mumbled. He ripped open the rest of the package frantically searching for any sign that this was a prank. It couldn’t be real. Couldn’t be. “No.” He growled out. He pushed his way out the door his whole body shaking from anger and distress. The rest of the 141 followed quickly behind him. “Laswell.” She jumped as the door slammed open. “What the fuck is this?” The sight of him was enough to send a spike of fear through her heart. He threw the package with your hair on the table in front of her.

“Oh no.” Her eyes were wide and she wracked her brain for any answer she could give him.

“You said it would be alright.” He was seething at the point. Tears welled up in his eyes and he couldn’t be bothered to hide them. The air felt like it was being choked out of the room. Everyone’s skin was crawling. “You said they couldn’t trace her.”

Laswell looked over at Price for some relief, but he had not the slightest clue as to what was going on- or how to fix it. Just that Ghost was more worked up than he’d ever seen. Even Soap was shifting nervously from foot to foot.

“What going on?” Price asked. Ghost growled not answering the question, his eyes still trained on Laswell.

“I didn’t think they could.” She said calmly. “I didn’t enter it into the computer- it’s in your file, but not electronically.”

“Someone clarify what’s going on.” Price snapped.

“Ghost, let’s not jump to conclusions. Are we even sure this is Y/N’s hair?” Laswell tried to soothe.

“You think I don’t know my wife’s hair?” Ghost gritted. Wide eyes and jaws hung open around the room.

“Wife?” Soap whispered.

“Yes, my wife.” Ghost affirmed. “After I had that accident a few months ago I thought it would be a good idea to finally make her my emergency contact. So if I died she wouldn’t be locked up in the house waitin’ for me.” He explained. “You told me it was safe.”

“It is. They had to have gotten her info somewhere else.” Laswell insisted. “I’ll start tracking her down. You need to calm down.”

“Fuck off.” Ghost sneered. Price gave him a warning shoulder shove.

“We’ll go see if we can find anything on our end.” Price sighed.

•••••••••••

It only took an hour to find you. Gaz was able to PinPoint your location- conveniently the sight they were debating on hitting tonight. They could barely keep up as Ghost began to load up. The odds weren’t great for them. They knew they were coming, they were outnumbered and they had a hostage- who they knew at least one of the team members would die for in a heartbeat.

“Ghost you need to keep your cool. Stick to the plan. You can’t help her if you’re dead.” Price was trying to talk him through it. Ghost had completely shut down. He’s had nightmares just like this before. You being tortured- just the way he had been. He swallowed back bile just thinking about it. He paced back and forth on the plane, growling and grumbling like a caged bear.

They were ready for the 141. All waiting patiently in their places ready to take down the infamous task force. Smirks spread across their faces and they could practically taste the celebratory dinner that awaited them. What they weren’t ready for was the absolute hell that was about to be unleashed on them.

They all had just stepped off the plane before Ghost was blowing through people like they were paper. Soap would bet his life on the fact that he saw Ghost go through a wall at one point. He wasn’t sticking to the plan. He was moving at inhuman speed. It was impossible to keep up with him.

“Found her. Back building, fourth floor second door on the left.” Soap’s voice rang through the comms.

“Hey, I’m a friend of Ghost’s.” Johnny spoke softly. You seemed to be relatively unharmed. When Johnny pried open the door he caught a glimpse of you diving under a small cot- your hair peaking out from under it.

“I’ve told you I don’t know who that is.” You murmured. He could hear the fear in your voice. Johnny sat down a few feet away from the bed.

“Oh right.” He whispered. “A friend of Simon’s.” Soap corrected. Your head peaked out from the bed. You had a bruise on your cheek- a slap mark?

“Simon?” You repeated slowly. Soap nodded his head. “Johnny?” You asked. Soap smiled.

“So he does talk about me.” His humor was wasted on you, but it did calm you a bit. Suddenly Ghost practically tumbled through the door. You shrieked not realizing who it was and dove back under the bed.

“Sweetheart.” Ghost quickly ripped off his mask, (not wanting to scare you more) laying on his stomach to get a look at you. You shot out from under the bed wrapping every limb you could around him. His hand gripped the back of your head pressing your forehead against his lips. “I’m sorry.” He pressed a few quick kisses against your head, before pulling away, worried eyes scanning all over you.

“I’m fine.” You assured. You had been lucky- well as lucky as one could be in this situation. Your worst wound was a slap to the cheek and a shitty haircut. The worst part was the fear. Fear of what they would do to you. Now that Simon was here you were at ease. His fingers skimmed over your cheek. “Got that because I bit a chunk out of someone’s hand.” You smirked.

“Good Girl.” He growled, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “We’ve got to get out of here, yeah? I’m goin’ put my mask back on and you’re going to stay between me and Johnny, understand?” You nodded your head, while Johnny was still reeling from all the affection Ghost had displayed.

Safe to say the mission was a success.

*ring*

“Sweetheart?”

You thank the stars above that John always picked up on the first ring.

“Not to worry you”-

“You need me to come get you?”

“No, can you meet me somewhere? There’s a red car that’s been following me and I don’t want to lead it to our house.” You explained, checking in your rearview mirror. Sure enough, a bright, red sports car was bearing down on you.

“Go to the coffee shop. Don’t park until you see my car in the parking lot. Don’t hang up either.”

“Affirm.” You snickered. John was in absolutely no mood to joke with you. You could hear the sound of his car starting.

“Hope I don’t have to get in a fight tonight. Only wearing my boxers and a shirt.” He wasn’t trying to be funny, but it still made you laugh.

“Could’ve thrown a pair of pants on.” You commented.

“If the difference between you being worm food and you being alright was me wrestling with a pair of jeans I’d never forgive myself.” He grumbled.

“I’ll be fine John. Captain’s coming to save me.” Normally he would melt at that but he was too focused dodging in and out of cars. You could hear a horn from over the phone. “Please be safe.” You sighed. “I’m here.” He said suddenly. Your eyes glanced to your phone. You had only been on the phone for seven minutes and it took at least fifteen to get to the coffee shop from your house.

“Don’t worry about it.” He said as if he could read your mind.

“It’s still following me John.” You whispered. Your fingers dug nervously into the steering wheel.

“Don’t get scared on me now, Sweetheart. How far away are you?”

“Ten minutes?” You weren’t entirely sure. “I can take a shortcut through the neighborhood.”

“No.” He interjected. “Stay on main roads with traffic. Doesn’t matter how long it takes for you to get here, just make sure you stay with people.” You nodded your head. “You hear me?”

“Yes sorry. I nodded my head but you couldn’t see that.”

“I’m standing outside the car. Pull up next to me, don’t get out, I’ll get your door for you.” He had his Captains voice on. You wondered if this was how team briefings went.

“You always get my door for me.” You smiled.

“Damn right I do.” He scoffed. “But it’s important this time. I don’t just want to leave your car in the lot because who knows what type of things they’ll put on it.”

“Like a tracker?”

He hummed in agreement.

“You’re scaring me John.” You gulped.

“Don’t need to be scared. I won’t let anything happen to you, you know that. Just want you to be aware of what’s gonna happen when you park. Just stay in your car, yes?” His voice was calm. Like he had done this a million times before. You nodded your head again. “Did you nod your head again?” You swore you could hear a chuckle.

“Yes, sorry. I understand.” Time seems to slow as you finally pulled into the cafe parking lot. It hadn’t closed yet people still wandering in and out even as the sun has set. You were surprised no one noticed the large man in a pair of light blue boxers and white t-shirt. A t-shirt so thin you could see his chest hair. You did as he told and pulled up right next to him. The red car pulled in right next to you. Your eyes quickly fled to your left to look at John. He had a look on his face you weren’t familiar with.

The sound of the red car door opening caught your attention. A medium sized man stepped out. He just looked greasy. He shut his door and began walking over to your side of the car, seemingly not noticing John.

John met him in the middle, using one hand to grab him by his shirt and slam him against the hood of his own car. You covered your mouth, your eyes going wide. John’s face hovered over his. You couldn’t hear anything that was said, but when John finally let him go the man scrambled to get back into his severely dented car. John stood at the front of the car as he started it up and ripped out of the parking lot.

John tapped at your window signaling for you to unlock your door.

“You alright?” He checked, crouching down to your level. You eyes were still wide and you slowly nodded.

“What did you say?” You mumbled. John took your shaky hands with his, pressing a kiss against your palms.

“That’s a secret.” He smirked. “Didn’t scare you too bad did I?” He asked softly. His brows furrowed and he ran a hand up and down your arm.

“Honestly?”

His face paled. He hadn’t thought about scaring you. He didn’t think he acted too rash. In fact he was holding back.

“Honestly.” He affirmed.

“That was really hot.” You admitted, a hot blush across your face. His face went blank for a moment before a wide smirk crossed his face.

“Then we better get home.” He murmured, pressing a kiss against your shoulder. “Safe to drive?”

“Yes!” You said a little too enthusiastic.

You’re so sweet! I absolutely loved this request and probably went a little overboard. I was only able to fit Ghost and Price in this but would gladly do this with the rest of the 141 and other cod characters! Hope you liked it and thank you for making my day!

[ohsohoney]

When it comes to love you're just as blinded.

Part Nine

Eminem x Musician

Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.

Note: It’s here! Just figured I’d get it out quick, so I spent ages just writing and then editing! Hope it’s up to par? It’s a long one, again..

Might edit this again when I'm not running on three hours sleep:) x

| Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2

taglist: @thelastemzy

Masterlist

It wasn’t too long after my call with Danny ended that I stepped back through the garden door and into the kitchen, only to find Marshall already there, elbows pressed against the counter as he typed away on his phone. He looked up at the creak of the door and so I smiled in hello, tucking my own phone into my back pocket as I padded on closer, making sure to lock up behind me.

“Danny said his goodbyes and apologised again for his army mates.” I found myself saying with a slight chuckle and watched as Em turned off his phone to set it to the side, pushing up and away from the countertop.

“Was nice to meet him. You speak about him a lot.” Marshall replied with a small smile, the getsure genuine even under the bright lights the kitchen offered. “Kid’s in bed already,” He added with a slight jilt of his chin before his head turned ever so towards the hallway, “You up for another night of tv?”

Grinning, honestly unable to help the action, I widened my eyes and feigned fawning over the very idea, “God, you know how to entertain a woman. Who needs alcohol and a club full of sweaty people when you’ve got Rick Grimes and walkers waiting for you?”

Marshall rolled his eyes in retort, scoffing lightly in amusement, but I did note the uneasy look that crossed his face, even if it only lasted a split second. “Never claimed to be babysittin’ you whilst you’re here. You wanna go out, go ahead.”

It was my turn to gift him an eye roll then, the daft idiot. “And miss the chance of another popcorn fight breaking out? Yeah, I think not.” I said as I waltzed past him, heading straight for the living room we’d invaded the night previous.

I was still searching for the remote when he finally emerged in the doorway behind me, pausing there briefly. It was only once I’d finally caught sight of the stupid thing that he chose to speak up again, “I was bein’ serious, before. You don’t have to stay cooped up here with us.”

The tele had since been turned on, the screen buzzing to life before its loading page flashed up to greet us. My brow furrowed in my stance by the edge of the settee and it stayed even as I turned to spare him a glance from over my shoulder. He looked a little ominous standing there in the shadow of the doorway, the tv being the only thing to shed a small amount of warmth and light into the dark room. 

“Shut up, I was just messing.” I waved off whilst flashing him a wry smile, before I turned back to the tv screen so that I could scroll my way back to the series we’d been watching the night before.

But Marshall didn’t appear to be anymore at peace after hearing the sentiment, his shoulders were tense and his forehead was suddenly littered with slight lines when he decided to bypass me and drop down onto the sofa.

I joined him a couple seconds later, throwing him a wary glance as I clicked on the third episode we’d somehow managed to get to and lowered myself down onto the cushions less than arm's length away.

The show started and for the first ten minutes we sat in a mutual silence, though I couldn’t help but feel as though I’d made a real big misstep with my earlier joke. It was just as the scene shifted again, the library moulding into the prison’s outer fields, that Marshall shifted, using the pillow between us as an excuse to shuffle into a better position, one which left him sitting a whole lot closer than he’d previously been.

My legs had come up to hide beneath me not long after I’d first sat down, so with his new position it just meant that my knees were now almost grazing his own. My eyes flickered between the barely there touch and the tv screen. 

Marshall slumped. Knee pressing further into my own.

I allowed it, wondering if it was purposeful. 

“Sorry.” He murmured after a static moment passed and he didn’t make the effort to move away either. I wondered if that was really what he was apologising for. 

Deciding not to comment on it, I simply shifted so that my head could rest against the back cushion of the couch, leaving my shoulder and side to fall in line with his torso. I felt, more than heard, him look over at me, before his focus was back on the tv screen once more. 

We sat that way for the remainder of that episode, my eyes growing heavier the further in we got. I put it down to the residual lapse in jetlag, but Marshall’s presence and his unusual knack for always being able to radiate body heat like a sodding furnace might have had something to do with it too.

I jerked slightly when I eventually felt my head fall forward, startling myself a tad, and pulled back from the way I’d been just about ready to nod right off. My temple seemed to have caught the curve of Em’s shoulder though on the way down and so I shuffled back a tad to flash him a sleepy smile full of silent apology, to which he merely shook his own head and shifted so that he could offer up his shoulder without words said or questions asked.

My throat grew a little tight at the gesture, never really having had that sort of companionship before, even in the people closest to me, and slowly allowed my chin to droop, almost cautiously as if I was preparing for him to laugh me off. But he didn’t. Simply waited me out, like a person would a stray dog when trying to lure them near.

I must’ve fallen asleep there after a while, which surprised me enough to have me blinking blearily awake again once I’d realised, because the next thing I knew the sofa had shifted and the soft light from the tele had since paused in its stuttering of scenes. 

Sniffing, I attempted to bury myself further into the cushions beneath me, missing the warmth that I’d found there just moments before, but it was then that I heard a light huff of laughter, one which had me rubbing at my eyes only to cast a glance towards it.

Marshall was there, standing over me, one hand on my knee whilst he tried to shake me awake as gently as he could. My gaze caught on the small smile he wore, the same one which appeared to grow when I frowned up at him and then around the room, trying to get a sense for what had happened and where I’d fallen asleep.

A tap to my knee had me looking back at him.

“Missed two episodes.” Marshall mentioned in a low murmur, smirking at the way I wrinkled my nose in turn, “Don’t think I’m rewatchin’ them jus’ ‘cause your ass decided to fall asleep.”

I hummed, still attempting to wrap my head around the fact that I’d just been asleep and was now somewhat awake, whilst simultaneously trying to stay alert enough not to fall back into that blissful state. “Sorry.” I whispered tiredly, barely even aware of the word as it slipped past my lips.

Marshall’s mouth quirked upwards before his head was shaking again, “You’re good, was just kidding.”

I smiled at the thought of him watching the episodes for a third time, just for me, and then giggled a little.

His hand encased my knee again but squeezed gently this time, it was when I looked over at him that I realised I’d let my eyes slip closed again. “Come on, gotta get movin’.”

I dreaded the very thought of moving but knew even in my dreary state that I couldn’t stay curled up on the sofa, so I inhaled quietly and moved to nod my head, taking the hand that wasn’t holding my leg and allowing it to hoist me up.

Marshall was smooth and considerate in the way he helped guide me up, letting me lean into his side as he turned off the tv, leaving only the nearby lamp to light our way out of the living room and into the hallway. I stumbled slightly on the small step that separated the two adjacent rooms but Marshall was there again, arm wrapped tightly around my middle whilst his other hand gripped my own, to keep me steady. 

I blinked a little more at the almost fall, allowing myself to pause and squeeze my eyes shut tight enough that when I opened them again the world was a little less blurred at the edges. “I’m knackered.” I ended up saying, voice carrying in a dull whisper.

Em responded with a light snort, the hand at my hip squeezing a fraction as we started up the staircase. “This gone be a usual thing with you, me carryin’ you to bed?” He wondered, though even in my sleepy state I could tell that the ask was more humorous than anything slightly related to irritation. 

Still, the question reminded me of the night before when he’d also helped aid me up the stairs. The image of his smirking face flashed to the forefront of my mind at the prompt, the way he had waited for me to step beyond my bedroom door before he’d finally allowed himself to walk away. Tomorrow, he’d said whilst my fingers had toyed with the door’s handle.

“No.” I murmured then to his question, sniffing as I slumped further in his hold, wondering over the steps and why he had so many of them. “Normally I’m a night owl. Don’t sleep much.” I added in explanation, the words accompanied by another sleepy smile that had him gazing down at me. 

Marshall hummed but was quiet as we moved up onto the landing, it was only when we reached my door that he shifted ever so to get it open, the handle clunking back up again in his haste to keep me upright against his side. I murmured another quiet apology.

“Stop sayin’ sorry, dummy.”

I snorted at the term, eyes slipping closed again, “Is that meant to be endearing?”

His tut echoed throughout the bedroom and it was then that I realised I was perched on the end of the king size bed. I blinked, but instead of peering around the rest of the room, my eyes caught on him and the way he was now pulling back the sheets, reshuffling the many pillows on the other end. 

My lips rolled against one another before I thought to say something, “Too many.”

Marshall peered back at me from where he was stood leaning over the bed, one knee pressed into the mattress. I wondered briefly if he knew how good he looked then, before he spoke again, brow raised. “What?”

“Pillows.” I muttered, hand flapping lazily over to the mountain.

For a long second he just stayed there, eyes turning towards the top of the bed before they met mine once more. I rubbed at my face to hide an oncoming yawn. He waited another second before pillows started to fly.

Startled by the soft thuds they made when they hit the floor, I watched on as he windled the stack down to a simple two, fluffing them before his head was turning towards me once more. “Good?”

His voice was ever so soft, all kind and gentle like. It made the words I felt like saying get stuck in my throat and a light flush to paint my cheeks, I nodded. 

It was then that he tilted his head in a gesture for me to move, smiling to himself as I rolled over the top of the duvet to settle on the sheeted mattress beneath. I flashed him another tired grin after settling in, wriggling beneath the sheets to get comfy and fight away the cold that had crawled in beside me.

My face seemed to crease after that and I tugged at the duvet to get the bed frame to release its bottom end. Marshall caught on quick enough and pulled it free for me whilst I shuffled out of the trousers I’d yet to take off. He blinked at the sight of the fabric which appeared a moment later, before he snorted to himself and offered to take them, stepping away to fold them up and place them down on the dresser nearby.

“All good?” He asked once again. I glanced back at him from under the cocoon I’d created and took in the softness of his smile, the way his hands were now folded politely behind his back, and how he was simply just waiting for me to answer him, as though he had all the time in the world and wasn’t fighting off sleep himself. 

I nodded, my chin hidden beneath the covers but my returning smile was able to be seen in the slight curve of my cheeks. “Good.” I whispered. Then, feeling a little silly, I added, “Sorry for–”

He waved the end of my sentence off, stepping closer to the bed as he reached out, ready to turn off the bedside lamp. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. Makes me feel useful.” Smirking, his fingers grasped the lamp’s cord but he didn’t move to pull it just yet.

“Still,” I pushed, eyes growing heavier once more now that I was surrounded by the weighted quilt that seemed to be hellbent on capturing all the heat that it could, “Thank you, I don’t usually..”

Marshall’s smirk dimmed ever so into something more thoughtful, “Means a lot that you trust me. Don’t stress about where you fall asleep.”

Trust. Wasn’t that a funny fucking thing.

The lamp was off and he was walking away before I could utter a reply to that, and it was only when the door creaked open a tad bit further to let him have his escape that I let the weight of his words sink in. 

It was a maddening thought to realise that I did trust him. Wholeheartedly. And that was probably the strangest thing.

–

I could not for the life of me have told you where I was, let alone what the time it could have possibly been, when I roused from my coma-like state. 

The first thing I noted was that the curtains had all been closed and the jumper I’d worn last night had since been tossed to the floor alongside a plethora of pillows. It was slow going, pulling myself up and into a sitting position, letting the duvet pool around my hips when I attempted to get my brain to function properly again. 

It was another minute or two before I found the strength to roll over and make a grab for my phone, only to find that it had since been plugged into the outlet by the bedside table to charge. My brow pinched at the sight, not recalling having put it on charge, but still I reached out to grab it. 

The light I was met with had me wincing before I managed to adjust, eyes widening slightly at the time I was shown. Almost eleven. Wow, it was honestly somewhat of an achievement for me, seeing as the bouts of insomnia I often wavered through had me falling asleep far too late and waking far too early. I figured all the flying and the hectic schedule I’d had before landing in Detroit had finally caught up to me.

My mind short circuited at the reminder. Detroit. Marshall.

“Shit.” I hissed, dropping the phone down onto the mattress as I willed myself to get out of bed. 

I tried to remember what had transpired after talking to Danny, how I’d let myself be lulled by the tv and the comfort of the man sat beside me. 

Dragging a hand over my face, I felt a bout of embarrassment flutter through me, feeling oddly caught out at having let someone see me so exposed. My legs dangled over the edge of the bed for a long moment before I finally found the energy to move, pulling my body over towards the bathroom and into the shower before I could regret the decision. Any of them, including both the night befores and the choice to not linger any longer in my pit. 

The shower worked wonders for waking me up that little bit more, pushing the last remnants of sleep from my mind as I stood under its spray. It was then that I found myself feeling thankful again for Marshall and all his odd eccentricities, for him being the overanalyzing type and having had the guest bath stocked with not just the necessities most would need, but the ones he figured I’d like, seeing as the theme was a mix of vanilla and coconut– something I’d mentioned after I’d gotten a delivery of candles a couple weeks prior.

I tried to push the thoughts of how endearing that whole mess was, the fact that he’d gone and remembered, as I stepped out and made quick work of getting ready for the day, forgoing drying my hair so that I could slip into the baggiest jeans I owned and a soft tee that often slipped over the curve of my shoulder. 

The house was oddly quiet when I slipped past the bedroom door and down the steps, once again forcing thoughts of last night out of my head, of his grip, the soft smiles we shared, the–

I took a much needed breath when I reached the bottom, swivelling on my heel to cast a glance about. I knew that Rosie must have already been at school even without me not spotting her bag or shoes by the door, but I was still left with the feeling of longing I often experienced whenever I woke up to find that Lottie had since left. 

Pushing on though, I noted that the house didn’t have that familiar chill I was used to enduring back home. The English weather was a mess of emotions even on summer days where the sun shone brightly, so it was nice not to be shivering my way into the kitchen and over to the kettle. 

It was after doing exactly that though, that I spotted a small post-it stuck to the fridge door.

(Dropped off Z, in the studio if you need me. Eat!  - Em)

Snorting softly at it, I tore the note down and let the corner press into the pad of my forefinger for a second or two. It was nice, having someone care enough to not want me to worry. Even the whole Eat! had me grinning, so used to running on fumes and pure anxiety that I often forgot. It was strange to note that it was a habit he’d picked up on, or perhaps I was just thinking too much into it. Maybe it was just him being personable.

Still, I folded the post-it up and slid it into the back of my phone case all the same. Not stopping to think twice about the why as I looked up at the kettle’s violent whistle.

I moved through my usual morning motions with an ease that shouldn’t have felt effortless in a kitchen that was not mine, but I did, walking to sit at the island not long after I’d procured myself a cup of tea and some toast. 

I took to scrolling through my phone, checking Twitter for updates on friends back home and then moving over to Netflix to see if there were any new series that had dropped and appeared worth watching. 

It was during that time that my phone soon rang. With one glance at the name I was wearing a mad grin and swiping to answer, “Well, isn’t this a surprise!”

A short scoff could be heard from the other side of the line before a familiar lilt trailed through, “And here I thought I was going to be met with love and a plethora of questions about my wellbeing. But no, only your sincerest sarcasm!” Lottie sighed theatrically, as though she wasn’t defeating the entire purpose behind her whole spiel.

“It’s seemingly a familial trait.” I quipped with a fond roll of my eyes, “But I have missed hearing your voice, texts don’t make up for much.”

“And what about my short videos?” Lottie replied with enough emotion behind her voice that I could already guess that she was raising one brow and pursing her lips. “Did they not suffice enough?”

“You mean the three second clips you keep sending me?” I laughed around a sip of tea, thinking back to the latest one I’d received the very same morning, “I don’t think me seeing your knee and hearing a Rihanna song play in the background is the same thing as knowing you’re alright back there.”

“Is too, and there were others!” Lottie immediately defended before a few other voices trailed through, “How about the one of me in Maths, hey?”

My face flattened at the reminder, “You mean the one of you gettin’ your phone taken away by your teacher?”

“Yes! See, all was fine, even Ms Plait reckoned so.” She quipped, the glee which lined her tone was oh so audible. “Did you not see that lovely smile of hers?”

I almost choked on my next chuckle, not having expected the comment, “Oh yeah, I saw. She still looks the same as the last time I saw her, face like a slapped arse and with one too many missing teeth.” Lottie sniggered and once again those voices from earlier followed, “You on your way home?” I wondered, looking down at the time and noting that she should have already left school by now.

“Yeah, just walking with Shan and Tea.” Her answer was followed by a loud hurrah of hellos from the pair that had me smiling.

“Heya girls, hope you’re all alright!” I greeted, listening to them ramble away for a couple of minutes about this and that, throwing me back to the days where the two girls had first come over to visit Lotts. 

Time got away from me a little after that, leaving me with an almost finished but cold brew and the remnants of my toast that I soon got up to throw and wash away whilst Lottie and her mates said their goodbyes so that they could part ways.

“You’re having a good time then?” I found myself asking once Lotts had finished speaking about her school day, “Nothing I should worry about?”

I could practically feel the roll of her eyes as she huffed, “Yes, Lia. Honest. I’ve been keeping you updated, Mila too, whenever she texts– even Danny called yesterday! Did you meet those knobheads he calls friends? The Irish one’s well fit.”

Pursing my lips to keep from smiling, I shook my head at her antics. “I did and need I remind you, you’re fourteen?”

“I was just stating a fact!” Lottie argued, her voice unable to be drowned out even by the car that then passed, “God, you’d think you didn’t know me at all.” She tacked on, her tone teasing enough that I knew she wasn’t too bothered by the fact that she’d been called out. 

“Know you too well.” I rebuked half-heartedly and then smiled at the response I was met with. 

“Too much like you.”

“A shame that,” I snorted as I took back to sitting at the counter, eyes caught on the length of land that stretched out beyond the back door.

“Slander.” Lottie sniped, “But also the truth.”

We shared a chuckle even as I rolled my eyes, which led me onto the next topic of conversation I’d been wanting to bring up since my phone call with Danny in New York, “How’s things working out at Mum’s then?”

A pause followed that question. One that went on a second too long and had my shoulders tensing. 

“Lotts?”

“Hm? Sorry, was just– crossing the road, you know.” 

“Don’t lie. Tell me what’s going on before I hop on a plane and find out for myself.” I threatened, eyes catching on the island countertop as I pressed the phone closer to my ear, as though by doing so it would somehow allow me to be that little bit closer to her. 

“So dramatic,” Lottie joked but it fell flat, what with my impatience and the lack of humour which lined her tone. She sighed, “Dad got out early.”

My whole world seamlessly fell apart at those four words.

I couldn’t form a coherent thought let alone any real words, so it was only Lottie’s voice calling my name that had me blinking back out of my frozen stance and inhaling sharply. “What?”

She coughed, either to clear her throat or to buy herself a little more time, I didn’t know, but couldn’t bring myself to care. “He– well, he’s on parole. Got out about a week ago. Staying with Mum, sort of.”

“Sort of?” I jumped out of the barstool I’d taken up to begin treacherously pacing. For a brief moment I wondered whether it was possible for me to wear away the pattern in Marshall’s kitchen tiles. “What are you on about, Lottie? He’s serving sixteen years.”

A heavy sigh. “Obviously he got out on good behaviour then, served just over fourteen, din’t he?” 

I swallowed thickly, a motion which flipped my stomach and had me threatening to throw up the toast I’d just eaten. “Good fucking behaviour, him?” I scoffed out a laugh that was entirely mirthless, “And she’s just let him back, has she? I thought she was done with him the second he was inside!”

Lottie didn’t say anything to that, or for a while longer. It took me a minute to notice what with how seething I was. 

I forced myself to take a breath, because this wasn’t about me. Then started to think a bit more rationally.

“Look, I’ll look up flights now, yeah? I can be home by tonight, or tomorrow morning if I’m lucky. I don’t know yet. Just have to contact Mila, then talk with Marsh– Shit.”

Marshall, what was I going to tell Marshall? 

“Elia.”

Blinking, my reeling thoughts were immediately stopped by the sound of my sister’s voice, soft but demanding. She waited and I was left to tug a hand through my still damp hair.

“Listen, please don’t come back.”

What?

“What?” I croaked out, the ground having been ripped out from under me.

“It’s working.” Lottie replied, her voice still soft, trying to be kind. “I mean, I’ve stayed with Shan some nights but I’ve been staying at the house too. And it’s– it’s not bad, El. It’s nice even, to get to know him and things. Like at my own pace and whatnot.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“He’s changed apparently. Mum reckons so anyway, it’s what she told me.” Lottie continued on, filling the silence I’d left her with whilst my entire planet shifted, “Not so angry, or sad. Just tryna find a job and stuff, so he can follow the rules of his probation or something. Not sure. Din’t ask too much about it. He’s staying with Mum but he keeps to himself when he’s not trying to make amends and crap. Make up for lost time.”

Staying with Mum. In my fucking house, the very same one I’d paid for. That fucking scummy shitheaded cun– 

I forced myself to breathe. 

“El, it’s working out. I–” Lottie said, then took a second. When she spoke again, she sounded so small, her voice almost pleading, “He’s my Dad, Elia. I just want the chance to know him.”

My hand fell from my hair to cover my mouth, desperate to keep the sob that wanted to escape from being heard down the line. I swallowed it back, gave a shaky exhale, but eventually nodded. Even if it was just to myself. 

“Okay, Lotts.” I heard myself say, somehow. “Okay, yeah. That’s, it’s fair.”

I was rewarded with a big huff of air, one that told me I’d done the right thing, that she was relieved to hear me say that it was all fine. “Thanks, El! Knew you’d understand.”

I didn’t. I don’t, I wanted to say.

“Yeah, ‘course, Lotts. He’s your,” I swallowed again, the walls of my throat itching, hands shaking ever so slightly, “–Dad. If it’s what you want then, yeah. Who am I to stop you?”

Who am I? 

Violent flashes flooded my mind, words, voices. Then I was back in the kitchen again.

“Just, promise me, Lottie. Promise me that anything happens, you call me. You call Mila. You call Dan. Okay? Anyone. Anyone who can get to me. I’ll be there.” I told her in a low murmur, the desperation I felt seeping through but I didn’t take enough note of it to care. This was too important. “Promise me, Lotts.”

I could hear her smile in her next words, “Promise, El. Always. I love you.”

“Yeah, kiddo. I love you, too.”

…

I don’t know how much time passed after the call dropped, leaving me with nothing but the light spatter of rain that knocked against the house. But soon enough I was startled from where I’d been standing by the window in some sort of trance, staring down at the phone I still held in my hand. 

I looked up so fast it almost hurt, but my alarmed look softened when I noticed it was just Marshall stood there, a slight furrow marring the skin between his brows. “Figured I’d come find you.”

My eyes slipped closed as I jilted my chin in reply, taking a much needed breath before casting another glance out across the garden. My mind was stuck on my conversation I’d had with Lottie, on thoughts of home and plans that would ultimately fall through.

A hand encased my elbow. “Yo, you good?” Marshall was still there, having ducked his head a tad to better look into my glossy eyes, that frown more prominent than it had been just moments before.

I stared back at him and felt my lip wobble, before I took another short breath and put on a smile, hoping it was sort of semi-convincing seeing as I nodded in retort. Must have been a tough fucking wish though because he levelled me with an expression that ultimately called out on all my bullshit. 

“You wanna try that again?”

I casted my eyes downwards and chewed on the inside of my cheek, feeling the way his hand inched up my arm before he eventually wrapped me up in his hold, letting me bury my head in the curve of his shoulder. My eyes squeezed tightly shut and even though I didn’t move to hug him back, I sagged into his hold, which must have told him enough to keep the two of us standing there. 

“Who was on the phone?” He queried after a short while, fingers trailing over the small of my back almost subconsciously, but the gesture was enough to soothe the well in my throat and the chaos I had going on inside my mind.

“Lottie.” I answered, voice meek even to my own ears.

His chest moved with each breath he took, legs spread just far enough apart that his feet encased my own, and he smelt so familiar that it made me wonder just how quickly I’d grown to be comforted by it. Was that even normal?

“You need to head back?” He wondered out loud, the parent in him jumping out at the thought of something having happened with my sister, “You can use the jet, I can get Paul on it now.”

It amused me to no end to understand the lengths he’d go to help not just me, but my family too, warmed me completely in fact, but the offer also left me feeling lost. Because even though I would have left the second Lottie asked, I would have been devastated to leave. 

I shook my head where it rested against his shoulder, pressing my forehead to the joint there before I spoke, “No,” I told him, the syllable wavering, “Just– she asked me to stay.”

“Right.” Marshall said quietly, though it felt like he’d forced the word out, “And you don’t want to?” He questioned, trying to understand.

My head shook once more, “It’s complicated.”

His hold tightened by a fraction and we stayed that way for a long second, then two, before he drew back to get a good look at me. “You wanna talk?”

I couldn’t stand to look into his eyes in that moment, far too fearful that I’d just end up crying then and there, so I sniffed instead and glanced off to the side. “Just complicated, I guess.” I muttered, repeating myself whilst trying so very hard not to think about the anxiety I felt over leaving Lottie there, thousands of miles away from me.

“Well, complicated’s my middle fuckin’ name.” Em replied and I couldn’t help it, the stupidness of it made me laugh and I knuckled at his stomach in retort, dropping my eyes. But he stilled my hands, holding them close so that I would finally look up at him, “Mean it.”

I already knew that though.

I peered down at our hands, the way my fists were now pressed against his chest, his bigger than my own and all but swallowing them whole.

“Lottie’s dad.” Is what I found myself saying, eyes locked on the tribal tattoo that encased his wrist. Em nodded gently, the gesture moving his torso as he shifted beneath my hands. 

The muscle of my cheek was all torn up from where I’d been chewing away in my anxious mess, stressing over it all, and so I tried my best to keep from biting at it once more, not wanting to cut too deep. But even so, the notion typically centred me so I was now at a loss for how to process the plethora of thoughts that kept running through my head like a freight train at full speed. 

Marshall seemed to sense this though, because not a second later were his thumbs running over the ridge of my knuckles. I felt my hands slacken a bit in their fisted hold. 

“Well, you know how I mentioned he was inside? That first day I was here.” I finally continued, moving to peer back up at him again, only to find that he was already watching me, the blue of his eyes a shock to the system. I shook my head slightly and took another deep breath, “He got out, parole apparently. For good behaviour,” I scoffed at the very reminder but pushed on, “He’s staying with my mum and so that ultimately means Lottie too. Seeing as I’m not there.”

Marshall had since stilled in his entirety, I wasn’t even sure if he was breathing with how suddenly motionless he went, but then his chin dipped and his thumbs resumed their gentle caress. “And she said not to go back?” He asked, clarifying. 

I shook my head. “She–” I tried to get the words out but had to pause, if only for a second, to actually form them, “She wants to get to know him. Says he’s alright now, that he’s changed.” My eyes rolled on their own accord at that, not believing it for a second, “And well, who would I be to deny her that, hey? I mean, I know how she felt, never knew my dad, but she has a chance, you know? She’d hate me if I took it from her. Even if I know better.”

I slumped when I was finally able to take another much needed breath, inhaling deep enough to dislodge the heaviness that weighed on my chest but not enough to clear it completely.

Em tugged on my wrists lightly and so I peered back at him, aware of the seriousness he had since taken on. “What’s that mean, know better?” He asked and I had to pretend I didn’t reel back from him, like it hadn’t been the first reaction to the reminder that simultaneously crossed my mind. “Hey,” He tugged again, even gentler than he had before but enough to draw back my gaze, “You don’t gotta tell me shit, but,” He paused, eyes flitting between my own, “I’m here, okay?”

Nodding, incapable of doing much else, I said, “I know.”

He gifted the tiny beginnings of a smile sincere enough to have me pressing my nails into the curve of my palms. “Is she safe? With him there.” He clarified and I could only blink up at him, he waited me out.

“I think so. I–” I stuttered, memories hitting me again. I tried to brush them away, but failed. “He wouldn’t hurt her, I know that.”

Just you then. 

The words went unsaid but the look in his eyes told me all I needed to know. His hold lessened until I was able to let my hands drop to my sides. Marshall cleared his throat but I saw the way his hands fisted as he stepped away, “Was gone ask to work in the studio today, but we can just chill instead. Or you can do your own thing.”

I was quick to shake my head, already onboard with the studio idea. “No, studio sounds good. Keep my mind off shit.” I replied, looking down to check my phone and biting my lower lip when no new notifications from Lottie had come through.

“You sure?” Marshall prodded and when I looked over to him it almost appeared as though he was appraising me under a newfound light, behind the carefully guarded fortress that was his gaze. 

Trying not to frown, I nodded again in assurance. “Yeah, just lemme text her again, and maybe Mila, then I’ll be right there.”

He continued to watch me for a second longer and it was only as I was about to say something about it, that he moved. “I’ma grab some drinks. You have a preference?”

Blowing out a breath, I shrugged lightly, “Water, juice, anything really. I don’t mind.”

Marshall seemed to take that as an incentive to grab a majority of the fridge, loading it all up on the counter beside him before he let the door swing close behind him. I raised a brow after having pulled up Mila’s contact and bit back the obvious laugh that wanted to escape when he mimicked the gesture, “What?”

“You good to carry all that?”

He glanced over to the plethora of bottles he’d procured and then back to me, “Two trips.” He declared as he swiped half of the contents into his arms.

I laughed at the picture he made, wondering how easy it was for him to flip my moods entirely. “We don’t need that many!”

“If I could, I’d flip you off right now.” Was the only reply I was given as he wandered out of the kitchen. 

I let go of a sigh as I moved back to glance down at my phone again.

Messages  To: Mila (Master/Manager/Obi-wan?)  Did you know?  About Lottie?

It only took a second before those familiar three dots were littering the bottom of my screen. Though in fairness, her phone was basically her fulltime job.

Messages  Mila (Master/Manager/Obi-wan?)  Everything’s fine. I told her not to worry you.

I couldn’t stop the scowl that overwhelmed my face at her response.

Messages  To: Mila (Master/Manager/Obi-wan?)  You serious? How was that your decision to make mila??

Messages  Mila (Master/Manager/Obi-wan?)  I care about the both of you. It wasn’t a split second decision, it was something I talked to Lottie about at length. She was the one who asked me to wait until I told you.  I didn’t want it to interfere with what we had going on. 

The fury which licked through me at her reply made her words feel too ingenuine. 

Messages  To: Mila (Master/Manager/Obi-wan?)  Still not your fucking choice to make You should have told me You’re my manager, not her mother

Messages  Mila (Master/Manager/Obi-wan?)  Oh is all I am then? A manager? I thought we were closer than that, at least it felt that way when you went and entrusted Lottie to me, when you gave me that trust and asked me not to regret it. This is me trying, El. I didn’t choose to be the person to mediate between you both, that just came with the job. If you don’t like how I dealt with it, then maybe you should rethink having me in your sister's life.

Messages  To: Mila (Master/Manager/Obi-wan?)  Is this your way of guilt tripping me? I just can’t believe you didn’t mention it, not once! You are my manager mila, but I thought you were my friend first and foremost Using me being here as an excuse, with you not wanting to use something like Lottie’s father coming back into her life to intervene with my work? Is just beyond wild. I really can’t believe you didn't tell me

Messages  Mila (Master/Manager/Obi-wan?)  I thought I was doing best by the both of you. Just call me, Elia.  Please?

Messages  To: Mila (Master/Manager/Obi-wan?)  I need some time to think Maybe later

I quickly switched back to my messages with Lottie, inhaling sharply when I saw that she’d replied to my last text. 

Messages  To: Lottiebug 🐞 I love you loads and I wanna be there for you But I know you need to do this on your own I’m just worried Always worry about you, bug, but this is something I really didn't prepare for

Messages  Lottiebug 🐞 I’m sorry I didn’t tell u Just figured it would be easier to wait til u got back Maybe u could meet him then, see how good it is My stomach rolled at the thought of being close to that man again, but I pushed through and didn’t linger on thoughts of me at sixteen. 

Messages  To: Lottiebug 🐞 I can get a flight home anytime If you want me, I’m a phone call away You know that right?

Messages  Lottiebug 🐞 I know but this is something I need to do On my own Like I love u Els, but this is for me to do

She knew where to hit where it hurt, I supposed, as I stared down at the messages that had come through not thirty seconds after my own. 

Messages  To: Lottiebug 🐞 Promise me, Lottie Anything happens, you call me

Messages  Lottiebug 🐞 Nothing will happen but I promise Promise to also call u before bed tonite yh?

I bit down hard on my cheek at the reassurance, which did nothing to reassure me, and felt the first ebb of blood, the way its metallic taste fled over my tongue in a haste to flood its entirety. Silently I cursed myself, but before I knew it my thumbs were flying over my screen again. 

Messages  To: Lottiebug 🐞 Okay Love you, bug x

Messages  Lottiebug 🐞 Love u more weirdo!! Xxxx

I guessed that it would just have to do for now.

A creak had me looking up and to no one’s surprise Marshall had come back for the second half of drinks, so I pocketed my phone after making sure that it was on alert and not the usual silent, then moved to meet him at the counter. “Want help?” 

His eyes narrowed at the offer and he was quick to swipe the lot of them up, “I said two trips.”

Shaking my head, I could do nothing but follow the idiot. Hoping to whoever was out there that the time in the studio would do me some good and allow me to leave thoughts of the past behind. For a while at least. 

–

The studio was just a rather large portion of the lower level of Marshall’s house. It was decked out though, kitted with all the latest works and better than a majority of studios I’d worked in, truthfully. But it also had this homey sort of feel that allowed the music to flow a lot better simply due to the atmosphere that offered a familiar comfort.

“You got it?”

I let the door close slowly behind me, trying not to let its heavy weight cause a slam, before I trailed my way back on over to where Marshall was sat on one of the two black couches. They were leather and sleek, but their obvious expense was muted by the multiple layers of blankets and pillows he had lining them.

I glanced at him and held up the bound book I had in hand, having darted up the stairs to pull it from my case when I realised he wanted to work through lyrics first thing. 

A majority of my thoughts were often jotted down in one notebook or another, but the notes app was a saviour for whenever an idea struck me and my book wasn’t near. I’d brought just the one on this trip, seeing as I’d been using it for the last two years and it was as thick as an actual brick. But back home I had about twelve others littering an old shelf in a room I mostly used for storage. The pleasures of having a house with rooms you didn’t really need, I figured.

Marshall’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of it, wrapped and bound in a thick wire to keep the pages from spilling open. I smirked in turn, wandering closer to slump down in the seat beside him, his laptop and the many pages he already had scattered about.

“You said book, not doorstop.” He mentioned when I turned to him, eyes still caught on the thing. 

I thumped him with it before I placed it down by his laptop. 

“Jesus.” He huffed, hand coming up to rub the arm I’d hit, before he made a reach for it. 

I cringed silently in wait, it was one thing to write in the thing but there were all sorts of odd bits and bobs in that book; from little receipts from dinners that had inspired songs to bottle caps and Polaroids that had written me albums.

“Be careful,” I hurried when his fingers unwound the strap I’d had to superglue twice in the past month alone, “It’s basically–”

“Falling apart?” Marshall finished for me.

I smiled sheepishly in turn, shoulders jutting upwards in a shrug. “Yeah.” 

He huffed a small laugh whilst I thinned my lips to keep from chuckling along with him. 

A normal person wouldn’t have really known where to start with a notebook this size, especially seeing as the pages were both upside down and back to front, having been written in haphazardly over the years and oftentimes stuck back together. But it was also due to the first few pages being all blacked out and slightly torn, an artistic choice I’d claim over the truth of my hatred for the words that had once marked it, as well as the paw prints of a mate’s dog who had won a battle of tug of war with it.

But Marshall had never once claimed to be conventional and so he headed straight for the middle where a large photo had been stuck in, surrounded by a multitude of signatures, drawings and markings. “What’s this?”

At his question, I followed his gaze down to where his fingers toyed with the book, fighting against gravity to keep the remaining pages from spilling over.

“Mostly from people I’ve worked with over the past year or two. Musicians, writers, producers, even got a couple roadies too. But there are some markings from mates– like, see that little picture of a cow, right there? That was my friend Fran, she does tattoos and the like, figured it would be a nice addition. She’s beyond talented though, did this massive mural for me back home.” I paused to look the rest of them over, then reached out to point at a signature floating nearby, “That there is David’s little hello, a smiley face alongside a couple drops of his coffee.”

“As in Bowie?” Marshall asked me, eyes caught and flitting over everything else the page had to offer.

I blew out a small chuckle but nodded, “Yeah, it was just before his 25th album came out. He was proper lovely, only got to talk to him for a few minutes though.”

Marshall hummed and then tapped a finger against a stark green ink that blotted a corner of the page, “This one?”

“Matty Healy. Worked with him on the last release. He just drew a massive knob because he is one.” I replied, thinking back to last time I’d been in London and spotted him and some of the band in a Soho nightclub. “They released their own album a month or so before your last. It’s their first but they’re brilliant.”

He hummed again, so I wasn’t sure as to whether he knew who the fuck I was going on about, but before I could explain a little, Em grabbed my attention once more, gesturing towards the page’s main focus, the picture. “How old were you here?”

I scratched the side of my neck and thought about it, “I wanna say twenty-two? Maybe? Don’t quote me on that though, but yeah, around that age.”

The picture was a cutout from the Camden New Journal at one of my bigger gigs, just after I’d been scouted in the bar I’d been working at. It was a snap of me and the small band I’d worked with once we’d finished our set, the crowd throwing pints up in the air whilst they’d started to crowd the stage. It was a picture I had framed back at the house as well as in a few of my other notebooks. It was something I turned to whenever I felt as though I was failing, or feeling uninspired.

Marshall’s thumb grazed lazily over its corner for a moment before he finally moved to turn the page, eyes instantly taking in the sudden change of pace. This page was scattered; it held a lollipop wrapper in one corner from a song I’d written about well, lollipops and the like, a couple of verses that were upside down and in luminous pink, and then there was another bout of lyrics from a whole different session marked down in dark blue that were written sideways.

“Your mind’s as fucked as mine.”

I snorted at the phrasing but decided to take it as a compliment, “Thanks.”

He shook his head and then started carding his way through the rest of the book, picking out the lyrics he recognised from songs of mine, as well as a few others he liked. It went on like that for a while, the two of us getting consumed in ideas and metaphors, the way we could play with words and shape them into something or other. 

An hour or two had to have passed before Marshall started pulling up different beats he’d been working on, explaining the samples used and the many layers that had been mixed in. I found myself liking a handful of them, even going as far as to start a harmony on one that Em appeared to tally down on a page he had laying out nearby. 

“So, you gone rap then?”

The question, however off-guard it caught me, was one that had me rolling my eyes, “You gonna sing?” I snarked back, my words sounding almost like a dare.

His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip before they quirked up into a smirk, “I can’t sing. You though, you can spit.”

I shook my head and snorted, pulling the lyrics we’d scrounged up closer to me and purposefully not thinking about the notes I had stored away in my phone. 

“Don’t be like that.” Marshall prodded, shifting in his position to nudge me with his elbow, “Jus’ think about it. This could be the time to experiment. You say your label wants something different, something to garner attention on your next record, right? So.. this here, it’s just me and you. No one else. And I’m only gone judge you if you’re really crappy.”

“Oh, and that makes me wanna try so much more!” I enthused, letting my songbook spring back open as I pulled away– the thing honestly had a mind of its own.

Marshall tutted, “Come on.”

I sighed, but did end up looking back over to him. “You’re a dick.”

He raised his eyebrows in retort, then decided to try a new tactic. “Fine, how ‘bout this. You rap something of mine. Then I’ll sing one o’ yours.”

I blinked, unsure if I'd heard him correctly. “You're shitting me.”

Marshall just shook his head, “You in or out?”

My eyes flickered between his, mouth slightly agape. But found I couldn’t turn down the offer. “Alright, but I get to choose what song.”

“For me or you?” 

I flashed him a sly grin, “Both.”

He let go of a long breath but ultimately decided that the term was worth it, “Aight, bet.”

And so that was how I got to start rapping Rabbit Run in the middle of Marshall’s home studio, the beat playing throughout the room whilst the man himself watched on from the couch with a slow growing grin on his face. 

I got so into it that I ended up working my way through the entirety of the song, bouncing away and playing up to the freedom of it just being the two of us.

“Whoo, go on!” Em hollered loudly once the final lyric had come and the beat had ended, kicking his feet against the floor whilst I laughed and shook my head at the reaction. It was in moments like these that I could often forget that he was marginally one of the biggest rappers of our generation. 

When he was like this, all goofy and happy, he was just Em. 

“Good now?” I asked around another chuckle, my nose wrinkling as I moved to sag back into my seat, hating how my cheeks had flushed at being the centre of attention as well as his praise. 

“Good? Girl, you’re rappin’ on this record even if it kills me!” Marshall stated, blowing a breath out around his grin, the one I’d grown accustomed to only seeing in rare and few moments.

“Fuck off.” I huffed, but even with the harsh words I was still smiling, just sheepish in the face of his applause.

“I’m bein’ for real. You got talent. When you’re up there, you just go for it ‘cause it’s fun. It’s all a joke to you, and you like bein’ in on it. But you’re good.” Marshall told me, having turned in his stance so that he could gesture along to his words, only furthering his point. “You don’t even know it.”

I rolled my eyes and tried to look away, wanting to hide the warmth that failed to leave me as I waved off his words with a hand that he then caught with his own, tugging on my arm until I looked back at him. 

“Trust me on this.” 

Just hearing those words, I was instantly reminded of the night before. Means a lot that you trust me.

His eyes were so imploring that I couldn’t cope with it, so I smiled and let his fingers slip from my grasp. “This you trying to back out of our deal, Mathers? ‘Cause if I remember rightly, you still owe me a song.“

Marshall shook his head ever so, but let me get away with the change in subject, moving forward so that he could push himself to his feet. I slid closer to his laptop and headed to YouTube quickly to find an instrumental that someone had made of one of my songs. I looked through them all until I grinned and decided on an older work. 

“Ready?” I asked over the screen. He simply flipped me off in return, so I huffed around a smirk and pressed play, letting the track croon out of the surrounding speakers. 

Good Company was a song I’d written long before I’d gone and gotten signed. It was rough and full of soul, but was easy enough to sing along to if you missed the high runs on the bridge. It juxtaposed the best and worst parts of me, but concentrated on me only ever showing those worse and bitter parts of myself to those I loved most. It wasn’t one the label had liked at first but it grew on you, and though it hadn’t been a chosen single it had actually managed to make it onto the Top Ten when the album had debuted. It was a favourite of mine and to hear Marshall attempt to sing and not butcher it that badly, well, it was sort of like a dream come true.

“Why the fuck do you claim you can’t sing?” I announced the second the song came to a close. Because I honestly had to give it to him, even with the slight laughter he’s started out with, Marshall had truly given it his best. He’d pranced around like a div (which had just told me that he’d seen the music video) and had actually attempted to hit those higher notes that even I sometimes struggled with when playing live.

“‘Cause I can’t.” Marshall scoffed, panting slightly as he fell back onto the couch, fiddling with the rim of his hat whilst he took the spare second to catch his breath. 

“Don’t lie! You can. Bit pitchy at times,” He extended his arm out to swat me at that, yet I still continued on, “But you’re good, Marsh! We should harmonise together.”

He rolled his eyes at the very idea, but kept them shut when he pulled his hands up to rest on his stomach. I smiled at the sight. 

“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me just yet, old man.” I prompted, “We’ve got work to do.”

Marshall’s foot struck out to kick at my ankle, which was deserving, I supposed. Still, I returned the hit with just enough force to get him up and moving again. He sighed in resignation and then reached for the glasses he had laid out, swivelling his hat round so that he could look over the few sheets we’d complied.

Struck at the sight of him in his wired frames and backwards cap, I had to literally tear my eyes away and down onto the paper I was handed before he could catch me looking. He was none the wiser. 

“We’ve got some good shit. But ‘s not enough.” Marshall mentioned after a minute or so of silently debating, his eyes wracking over the sprawled lyrics we’d produced. 

I chewed on my lower lip, phone burning a hole in my back pocket. When he sighed once more, I felt the sudden need to just show him the notes and put the idea out there. 

Heaving out a breath, I forced the device from my jeans to open up my notes app, flicking past the few that were worthless until I came across one I’d been thinking about since we’d first sat down.

Em chose that moment to glance over at me, eyes somehow bluer behind the lens of his glasses. I swallowed and all but shoved the phone towards him. 

He frowned but took it, unable not to, and I watched on in silence as he read it through, then read it though again. His fingers began tapping away on his knee the third time around. 

When he looked back up at me, I was surprised by the sudden change his face held, the way his expression had literally lit up. “The fuck you been holdin’ out on me for?” He practically demanded, voice having kicked up a pitch in his eager haste to try and work this into the mix. 

I was left blinking back at him, watching as he scribbled a plethora of words and letters onto the page we’d been working on, using arrows and lines to showcase his thinking, how he wanted the song to move. To flow. 

I barely had a second to think before he had his own phone out and was dialling away. My eyes widened when the Master of Mixology himself picked up. 

“What do you want, Marshall?”

Any other time I would have cackled at the sheer amount of resignation that greeting held, but it seemed as though I was suddenly tongue tied.

“Why you always think I’m doin’ stupid shit?” Marshall shot back at the man, though from where I was sat I could see the slight curve to his lip. 

“‘Cause I know you? And you usually are.” Dre answered, blunt and to the point. Very much how I’d pictured him. “So why d’you stop to fuck up my afternoon?”

“It’s afternoon already?” Marshall asked, brow furrowing as he shared a look with me.

“Two pm.” Dre told him with a sigh.

“Shit.” Marshall muttered under his breath, gesturing to me with a hand and an almost pleading look, “Set an alarm for when Z gets in, please?”

“Be easier if you did it, Em. Seeing as I’m in New York and you’re in Detroit.” Dre answered, which earned him a scoff from Marshall. 

“Not you.” He told the older man, but I was already on it, swiping out of my notes app so that I could do exactly that.

“The fuck?”

Marshall’s mouth twitched at the disgruntled retort, “With Elia right now, man. We’ve been workin’ on some new shit.”

“El–ee–ah!” Dre called back, really getting into the pronunciation of it. I chuckled softly. “How are you? Is Marshall takin’ good care of you? No troubles, right?”

Grinning, I leaned in closer to Em to be heard. “He’s been a real gent. Holding open doors and basically waiting on me hand and foot.” I teased, earning a side eye from the man himself, “If anything you should be asking him if he’s holding up okay.”

“She got you wrapped round that finger quick!” Dre gruffed out a laugh, the sound loud and joyous even through the phone’s tinny speakers, “It’s what I like to hear.” He added as his laughter ebbed, “Glad things are working out between you both– what’s this about the album then? We got something special?”

Marshall’s tongue darted out over his lip as his eyes flickered over to find me, “I think we hit the jackpot with this one, man. Can already picture it, Dre, like honestly. Shit she’s pulled out has got me feelin’ all nostalgic– it’s good. Too good. Reminds me of some of the stuff they were spittin’ way back before I came around.”

My eyebrows rose a little at his explanation, but I didn’t dare add on or contradict his words. Not that I would, seeing as he was practically spot on with the analysis. 

“No shit?” Dre sounded surprised, but I took it in stride when Em shuffled forward on the couch in his haste to read out some of the stuff we had jotted down, as well as the few lyrics I’d just handed him. 

The man on the other end of the call hummed in thought when Marshall finally wrapped up his whirlwind of a reply, letting the silence linger between us until I was chewing on the insides of my cheeks once more.

“I’ll Facetime you later once you’ve worked on it some more.” Dre eventually said, halting the tic of Em’s knee, a gesture I only took note of once it had stopped. “It’s promising though. Real promising. Figure we got something here with the pair of you.”

The look Marshall shot me at that had my mind turning to sludge.

–

Alarms always had me spooked, the sound so abrupt and alert that even though I was expecting it, I was never truly expecting it. You know?

Marshall and I had continued to work away, floating ideas back and forth with Dre and then without him once the man eventually got called away. It was slow going, but like Dre himself had said, oh so promising.

Never had I felt so listened to during a writing session. Marshall never failed to give me his full attention even when he was scrawling away or counting a tempo, it was as though he was able to just hone in on every notion I brought up, building on it as he nodded away and pointed to the places he figured we could add it in or just blend.

So by the time that alarm finally rang out, it was safe to say we were making a hell of a lot of progress. So much so that Marshall looked torn once we’d both jumped out of our skin at the sound and I’d hurried to silence it. 

His hands fluttered through the many pages we had, as well as my songbook, mouth thinned as his brows dipped together. Rosie would be home in a matter of minutes but he was still spinning with ideas.

I, on the other hand, was all too ready to take a break, head starting to feel heavy with the sheer amount of words it had taken in today. Marshall was a fucking living and breathing thesaurus.

“I can go hang out with her for a bit if you wanna keep on working.” I offered after I’d checked my phone for any recent notifications, noting that the only message I’d received was from Mila. An apology of sorts, letting me know that she’d be willing to wait for me to reach out again.

Em’s frown was palpable. He shook his head, “Can’t ask you to do that.”

I let go of an amused huff, “Good thing you didn’t ask then, I offered.”

His forehead furrowed further whilst he continued to collect the many sheets, I passed him the one I’d been gatekeeping. “Still.” He tried to push, but I just shrugged the word away.

“I could use the break,” I mentioned, reaching for the few empty bottles we’d settled on the floor around our feet, “Might even get a headstart on dinner if you guys aren’t going out.”

Marshall looked a little perplexed at that, “Goin’ out?”

I shrugged again, but smiled when he handed me his latest bottle, piling it into the bin alongside the rest so that I could take it back up the stairs with me. “I don’t know what plans you have!” I laughed lightly.

He ended up rolling his eyes at that, “If I did they’d include you, idiot. Wasn’t plannin’ on goin’ out though.” He retorted, before pausing and glancing over to me, “Why, did you want to?”

Honestly, he was hard work. I could only huff out another round of chuckles as I shook my head at him, “No, you’re all good. Like I said, I could get started on dinner.”

The expression he pulled then looked almost strained, as though he wasn’t used to being offered help, much less willing to accept it. But I could tell that he wanted to. He was on a roll here and it was obvious that he was desperate to keep ahold of that inspiration for as long as it would last.

I stopped with what I was doing to step closer again, hoping to reassure him somewhat. “I wouldn’t offer, if I minded.” I told him gently, “Just pray that I don’t poison the lot of us or burn the house down if I do start cooking though.”

He laughed a little at that, face softening at my words. It still took him another minute or so to finally agree, dipping his head ever so slightly in the most minute version of a nod, “You’ll call out if you need me?”

I raised a brow, “What, into your soundproof studio?”

He breathed out another chuckle, tongue pushing against his teeth as his hands fell limply between his knees, papers shuffling ever so. “Call me, call me. Or just use the intercom.”

“Yeah, not happening.” I quickly quipped, eyeing the so called intercom with obvious distaste, “I’ll call. I don’t know the first thing about how to work that.”

Marshall’s smug smirk was evident when I glanced back over at him, enough so that I could only flip him off as I moved to leave the room, muttering under my breath about being too kind to idiots, something that only proved to humour him further. 

“‘Preciate it!” He called out just before the door could close behind me. 

It had me smiling all the same.

[xetlynn]

Until Dawn- By Your Side: Chapter Three, Arguments

(Josh Washington X Reader)

[two] [three] [four]

Ashley and Sam talk while I hold myself shivering. “WOOOoooOOoooooOOOO!” We hear from the other side of the door and Sam immediately goes up to the window. “Hi Chris, very funny.” She yells.

“How’d you know it was me?” He furrows his brows, showing his face. “Shouldn’t you be like, getting the lock open or something?” She ignores his question. “On it.” He makes a straight face and walks away. I sigh, throwing my head back.

I glance over to Ashley who’s crossing her arms over her chest. I grab onto her and hug her. Keeping us both warm. “Thanks, [Name].” She whispers, I hum in response, leaning my head on her shoulder. “He needs to hurry up.” I mutter, annoyed.

“Can I join you guys?” Sam asks, I open my arm and we all huddle together for the warmth. “Thank you.” She huffs up.

I hear Chris’s footsteps get closer and we let each other go. “We’re freezing our buns off out here!” Ashley complains and I chuckle remembering the conversation the boys were having earlier. Sam and I go up to the door and watching Chris put the fire on the handle of the door. He glances up at us when he stops and flings the door open. Hurting himself in the process.

“Thank you, thank you, thank, I‘ll be here all week-“ He bows but as he does a badger or some sort of animal runs out of the doorway making him squeal. Us three laugh at his reaction. “Crap that thing freaked me out.” He expresses, looking down at the ground.

“what was it? Are you okay?” Ashley attempts to stop laughing. “It was like a bear or a tiger or something.” He huffs. “Aw it was just a cute little baby wolverine!” Sam does a little pout.

“Baby?” Chris rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, you’re gonna be a big boy soon.” Josh comes up behind us, slinging his arm over my shoulder, wearing a smirk on his lips.

We all get inside, Josh letting me go to lead the way fully in. “Home sweet home.” He says.

“Sweet is not the word I’d use.” Matt mumbles under his breath.

“I think it’s nice, just needs a little cleaned up.” I get on my tip toes and kiss my boyfriend’s cheek.

“Oh my gosh it’s so good to be inside. Even if it’s still kinda freezing in here.” Ashley happily announces. “I’ll get a fire going.” Josh squeezes my forearm before walking over to the fire place.

“This place barely looks any different.” Matt comments. “Yeah, nobody’s been up here.” Josh tells them.

“Even with all the police coming in and out?” Ashley tilts her head and I sigh at the question. “Not a lot of action up here lately.” Chris says for his best friend. “Nope.” Josh adds. I watch over him as he gets the fire started.

“What’s up party people!” Mike throws his hands in the air excitedly. “Heeey!” Jessica grins. “Hey!” Josh smiles. “Make yourself at home bro.” Josh tells Mike, I only give him a short wave. I’ve never really been his friend. We have a mutual silent agreement where we don’t really speak to one another unless necessary. “Will do.” Mike pretends to take a hat off.

“Yeah, come on in.” Matt says with some sort of disdain laced in his voice. “Take a load off. Have whatever you want.” He stands up. “You just take whatever you want anyways, right?” He gets closer to Mike and I take a deep breath knowing some sort of argument is about to happen. I lean on the wall of the fireplace beside my boyfriend. “Woah, easy there cowboy.” Mike steps back.

“what the hell were you doing with Em out on the trail, huh?” Matt questions him. “What?” Mike furrows his brows. “I saw you and Em. Through the telescope.” Matt explains where he got his information. “Before? We just ran into each other. It’d been a while so we hugged and I said hello. Is that against the law?” Mike asks, I don’t think he’s completely lying but Matt supposedly does with his next sentence. “Erm. Right. Right I’m sure it’s all it was.” Matt sarcastically says.

“You know what? You can think whatever you want. It’s a free country.” Mike tells him. “Watch yourself, Mike.” Matt warns before sitting back down on the couch. Mike goes and sits with my little sister. I subtly glare over at them before looking down at Josh.

“Oh. My god. That is so gross.” Emily’s voice pierces the room. “Are you trying to swallow his face whole?” She asks my sister and I get up from the wall. “Em…” Matt steps in. “Seriously can she be any more obvious?” Emily looks at everyone in the room. “No one wants in on your territory, honey.” Emily tells Jessica.

“Excuse me, did you say something?” Jess stands up.

“Oh did you not hear me? Was your sluttiness too loud?” Emily comes back at her and I shake my head. “Sounds like someone’s bitter she didn’t make the cut.” Jess smiles to her boyfriend who seems like he’s enjoying the show. “Yeah. It’s all a big cattle call with that dreamboat. Congrats, you’re top cow.” Emily congratulates her. “Cuts real deep calling Miss Homecoming a cow.” My sister says.

“Hey, let’s calm it down, both of you.” I point to them. “You’re making everyone uncomfortable, Jess.” Matt adds in. “Jealous much?” Jess asks him. I close my eyes trying to restrain myself from yelling at them. Somehow Josh doesn’t even care as he still works on the fire. “Emily too frigid for you, too?”

“Hey, that’s, that’s uncalled- look-“ Matt starts. “Whatever. I don’t give a crap what you think.” Jessica tells them.

“At least I can think. 4.0 bitch, honor roll.” Emily says and I press my lips together. “Suck on that when you’re trying to sleep your way into a job.” I get closer to Emily and wave her to stop.

“Knock it off, please.” I whisper, looking over to my boyfriend who just wanted a fun trip. “Who needs grades when you’ve got all the natural advantages you can handle.” Jessica says and I wince at the horrible come back. “Oh please.”

“You couldn’t buy a moldy loaf of bread with your skanky ass.” Jess snaps at Em. “Are you serious? Do you think that’s insulting?” Emily laughs. “That bitch is on crack or something.” Jess looks to her boyfriend.

“Jessica, you need to shut your mouth, okay?” Matt tells my sister. “Matt, zip it.” I groan, planting my face in my hands.

“no, you’re the one who needs to keep your nose out of other people’s business.” Jessica points a finger at him.

“I’m about to get right up in your business you bitch.” Emily steps closer and this is where I jump in. “Are we about to get real? Cause I am down to get real.” Jessica gets in Em’s face.

“Alright, enough you two. What the fuck?” I push them both back. “Are you serious? This is not why we came here.” I tell them and Josh is standing behind me. “This is not helping. It’s not what I wanted.” He says to them and they look down.

“If we can’t get along for ten minutes then maybe we need a little bit of a break, right?” Josh says and I notice the girls glaring at one another again and I shove both of them. “Knock it the fuck off, seriously.” I whisper.

“Mike, why don’t you check out the guest cabin. The one I told you about.” Josh offers to him and my sister. I snap my head over at him with wide eyes. “Yeah… yeah, alright.” Mike stands up, reaching out for Jessica but I step in between them. “No. No, just for you to screw my little sister like the asshole you are?” I furrow my eyebrows. “Hey, calm down. I’m not going to do that.” He scoffs.

Jessica hits my arm. “It’s not your place to say no.” She tells me. “I’m just looking out for you.” I argue, slapping her back. “I don’t need you to do that. I’m going where ever that whore isn’t.” She walks past me and joins Mike.

“You’re so stupid Jessica.” I huff out, super irritated. “What ever, [Name]. Stay out of my life then.” She tells me and I roll my eyes. “Would love to.” I mumble, crossing my arms as I watch Mike and her walk out of the room. “It’s right up the trail.” Josh directs Mike and I give him a look. A very angered expression. Matt lets out a large sigh. Doing a mind blowing noise. “Glad that’s over.” He says.

“Yeah.” Josh gets back down to start the fire. “So Josh… uh, should we get this fire going?” Matt offers a helping hand.

“Where’s my bag?” Emily asks suddenly. “Huh?” Matt looks back to his girlfriend. “My bag! The, the little bag with the pink pattern. The one I got on Rodeo.” Emily questions. “Matt are you listening?”

“Oh my god, don’t you remember? Next to the Italian shoe place where I got the stilettos and you knocked over the rack while you were drooling all over that girl at the counter?” She reminds him. “well, I mean, she was asking about my letter jacket-“

“Right. Because she gave a shit about your designer letter jacket.” Emily rolls her eyes, I just plop down on the couch. Over the arguing that Emily always seems to bring. “Why do you hate my jacket?” Matt steps closer to her. “Matt I need my bag!” She says.

“oh my god Em, maybe you just forgot it.”

“Do you seriously think I’d forget my bag?” Emily questions him, raising a brow. I look over to the stairs to see Ash, Sam, and Chris there awkwardly as we all listen to this. “Well, I-“ “Do you?” She cuts him off. “Guess not.” He falters. “You must have left it down by the cable car station.” She says and he groans. “C’mon hun. We’ll be back soon.”

“And then we can get warm?” He asks and I know what he means by that. Every guy here is a pervert. “We can get very warm.” Emily responds, sway her body. “Okay. Okay, let’s go.” He motions to the front door and they leave.

“Okay. I’m gonna go take a bath.” Sam stands up, heading up the stairs.

Josh stands up, suddenly remembering to give Mike the keys and even though I’m upset with him. I get up to follow. His hand finding my own. “You’re mad at me.” He states quietly. I don’t look at him, only shrugging. “I’ll make it up to you.” He tells me.

“We’ll see.” I let go of his hand and open the door. “Here’s the keys.” I take them from Josh and throw them over to Mike who catches. “Hey, sorry to kick you out like that.” Josh goes over to them and I fold my arms over my chest beside him. “No worries man.” Mike waves it off.

“Oh I’m sure you’ll find a way to entertain yourselves.” Josh smirks, Jess hums in response and I feel like I’m gonna gag. “You have fun with the peanut-gallery.” Jess points into the house. Josh does a gun noise, pointing fingers to his head. He walks backwards but then stops. “Oh! Almost forgot. Gotta fire up the generator so you can see where you’re going.” Josh says. “It’s dark out there.” He goes back inside. I stand there for a minute looking between them. Shaking my head as I head back in as well.

“You ruined it, Josh.” I tell him, moving past him sort of angrily. “I figured.” He sighs, grabbing onto my arm before I could make it too far away from him.

“I just want everything to be perfect tonight.” He whispers, bringing me close to him. I know I’m not going to stay mad but what’s going on with Jess has been too much lately. She doesn’t even seem like my little sister anymore. “I… I understand.” I frown. I don’t understand but this trip is about Josh. Not me.

“I love you, [Name].” He says out of the blue staring into my eyes. I shyly look away. It took us a while to say the “L-word,” both of us having weird pasts with relationships and unfortunately what just happened to his family. So whenever he says it, it still feels like the first time. “I love you too.” I tell him, he pulls me into a kiss. “More than you’ll ever know.” He mumbles, holding me tight like I’m going to disappear. “Getting a little sentimental on me, Josh.” I pull away just the tiniest bit. His hands still around my waist.

“Only a little bit.” He chuckles, we head back to the living room.

“Sammy!” I shout. “What?” She asks back. “Need help getting the bath ready?” I tease her. “Um, well. I’m about to get into said bath.” She chuckles as my head peaks into the room. “Do you need any help with that?” I smirk. “Hardy har.” She smiles.

“I was just checking in with you.” I stop messing with her, watching as she turns the water on. I cross my arms, figuring the hot water isn’t on. “Do you know how to hook up the hot water in this big fancy lodge? Or at least your boyfriend hopefully does.” She turns to me and I shrug. “We’ll go get it figured out. Don’t miss me too much while I’m gone.” I blow a kiss, jogging out of the room and back down stairs.

“Love-“

“You can do it, man. We believe in you.” I hear Chris quietly say to Josh so I immediately quiet down. “Yeah! Totally! Woohoo! Let’s go Jo-osh let’s go!” Ashley cheers.

“Okay well I am pretty sure that somewhere in this crazy place we used to have… a spirit board.” Josh randomly tells them, I make a face remembering when him and his sisters used to try to get me to play the board with them. “Those things are a joke, man. They don’t do shit.” Chris says.

“No way bro. We used to do it all the time. [Name], me and… well.”

“Hey, love. The hot water isn’t on. Sam is pissed!” I got over to him, slinging my arms dramatically over his shoulders. “Oh, we gotta fire up the boiler. It’s in the basement.” He tells me, I let him go. “You guys see if you can find the spirit board.” He points to Ash and Chris, Ashley gets excited. “Chris let’s go find it, it’ll be like a scavenger hunt!” She grins.

“Umm… okay… guess so.” Chris slowly goes after her. “Rad. You’re not gonna regret it.” Josh chuckles. “You ready?” He turns to me, sticking his hand out for me to take. I hum, taking it.

“You notice how I gave Chris and Ash a mission together?” Josh asks me as he takes a flashlight out of a drawer. “I did.” I smile.

“Yeah I was thinkin’ they could use some ‘alone time.’ Like we could use some alone time.” He wiggles his eyebrows and I laugh. “You thinking tonight’s the night?” I ask, messing with him.

No, we haven’t done “it” yet. With everything going on it just didn’t feel right. Along with the I love you thing. As much as a pervert Josh is, he’s actually a sweetheart. Sex also just isn’t on his mind like that. We both respect one another on that. “Really?” He tilts his head, I could tell he actually got excited by my question.

“If you want to… I wouldn’t be opposed to it.” I take the flashlight from his hand and lead our way

Masterlist

Josh M.L.

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