#Of course you'll always see Drugs put along with his name.

[criminalisticonsultant]

A bittersweet feeling when people realize how boring and dull Sherlock is...

Disappointing, isn't it?

[im-just-a-boy-guys]

Expanding on an idea I had, I'll link the post :3

(MULTIMONSTER/GLORYHOLE/AFAB/FTM/ANY BODY TYPE/WERE-TIGER/ORC)

(3.8k words)

(CNC/FREE-USE/MONSTERKINK/GLORYHOLE/ANAL/ORAL/VAGANAL)

SCROLL DOWN TO THE BOTTOM TO SEE THE REFERENCES OF THE CREATURES!<3

(Heads up, pink text is just for unassorted side characters, they might make an appearance in future parts of the fic, and might have their own colors then.)

You walk into the facility excitedly. You had passed the screening, background check, drug test, lab work, and numerous other loops to fill the position you had applied for. You knew it was a sex-working job, but didn't have much more information than that, which you didn't mind.

You walked up to the front desk with your paperwork to greet the busty woman sitting there, her bright green eyes darting up at you from beneath her bangs. Her long black hair draped over her shoulders and the coils, along with her breasts bounced lightly as she moved. A flush of red swam across your cheeks and you tried to avert your gaze, pushing your view back up to her eyes.

"Hello!, I'm (y/n)! I'm here to see-", By the time you'd gotten past your name, she'd already found you on the list.

"Ah! (y/n), Spelled like this right?", She showed you the clipboard and smiled, pointing to your name with a pen. You nodded and returned her cheery expression.

"Yep! That's me!", She nodded and stood, you could now see her red, partially unbuttoned blouse and tight, black, knee-length skirt. As your eyes traveled down her body, they fell on her lovely bright red heels. All of these colors complemented her Olive skin delightfully, so much so that it was very difficult not to stare.

"Come on, hun. Follow me.", I wandered closely behind her and she led me into a large warehouse-type hallway, with many different doors leading into different hallways or rooms. We walked down the hallway and into a blue door on the left. She scanned her keycard and the door buzzed open.

"Once you've been here for a couple of days and decide that you'd like to continue, we will give you a keycard. Until then, I will come let you in."

The door opened into a large waiting area, The flooring was a beautiful dark wood, leading up to the furniture. All of the furniture was luxurious, the arms swirling elegantly. The couches and chairs were a red fabric with black flowers strewn across them, little whisps of swirls against the flower pattern. There was a Traditional Gold Damask on Bright Red Wallpaper lining the walls, all the way to a front desk with another woman with red hair and blue eyes looking up from her paperwork through her glasses.

"Oh! Is this the new hire? They're gorgeous!"

"Yes isn't he? I just know the clientele is going to love him. Alright, Cassandra, I'm going to take him back. Don't send in anyone too rough until his third day please."

She smiled and Cassandra nodded, "Of course Andromeda. As always."

She returned to her paperwork and the dark-haired woman led me into a room with an "Employees only" Sign.

"Alright, and If you just strip down, You'll be led to your room for the night. Oh, I almost forgot to ask, would you prefer human clients or monsters-", You'd almost forgotten monsters would be an option, but you felt your heart race at the idea. You'd never been with a monster before and the very thought put slick between your thighs.

"Monsters- please.", You said politely. She nodded and left you in the room by yourself. You looked into the body-length mirror as you undressed, hearing Cassandra's words in your head, calling you gorgeous. You were feeling super confident.

You heard a soft rap on your door, "May I come in, (y/n)?"

"Yes, I'm ready...", You bashfully covered yourself but only slightly. Andromeda smiled at you and gave you a soft look up and down.

"You look beautiful, come with me this way to your room.", You nodded and walked slowly behind her as she opened the door and led you down the red hallway, Along the wall, there were dark, red cushioned lifts that hung about 3 feet above the ground. The same wallpaper as the waiting room shines softly in the dim lighting. The woman opened a door with her keycard, another "Employees only" sign hanging from it.

As you entered, the hallway wrapped around as if to mirror the one you were just in, full of box-like rooms that were slightly elevated. She opened one of the secure doors, as you looked inside, the room was filled with that same, cushioned material, a pillow built into a table in the middle, and a red button hung next to the door.

"I'm going to open the door and you will put your rear end and your knees on the other side of the wall. It will secure your hips in place, and you will put your abdomen on this table. when your lower half is secured, this wall will open a small hole in front of you and the table will adjust you fowars slightly, or this wall will get closer to you."

You tried to keep up with what she was saying as you looked all over the room, figuring out how the mechanisms functioned so well. There must've been a lot of science, engineering, and thought put into these rooms. Andromeda scanned her card on the button pad, which helped adjust the walls and seating.

Once your hips were through the wall, and your knees were comfortable; you adjusted the closeness of the wall, and a hole opened up. The hole was right up next to your mouth and you couldn't help but daydream. Just thinking about the randomly colored cocks that would be in your face, how they might taste, and how thick they might be. More slick dripped down your thigh and you prayed no one would notice.

"Alright, are you comfortable?"

"Yes, Ma'am", She looked over her clipboard at how you addressed her as she checked off boxes, you almost wished she would play with you herself, now shamelessly staring at her chest, or at least what you could see under her clipboard.

"Would you like an aphrodisiac?", You looked at her confused and blushed.

"What- is that?", Andromeda put her clipboard to her hip and smiled,

"It's a drug, more spasifically a gass for us as a compsany, that makes you feel extra- in the mood."

She winked and chuckled. You nodded and looked down shamefully, "Yes please-"

"Alright hun, I'll be sure to set you up before we open. I'm going to ho around to the other side and make sure your legs are as open as they need to be, Ill close the wall once you're adjusted and we'll help all the other girls in. While you're waiting well hit you with the drugs okay?"

"Mhm"

You answered softly and let yourself relax, resting your arms on the rectangular table, your back arching softly as you adjusted. You were happy to find there was another armrest and a small lift button for the table. You messed with it, raising the table slightly and lowering it. You rested your arms on the wall, armrest, practicing how you would suck on the monsters that offered their cocks to you. Andromeda could be heard behind you,

"Oh, my~", she giggled softly as she examined you.

"Someone's exited huh? Alright, do you mind if I touch your legs and thighs? Make you look presentable?"

"No, I dont mind."

She hummed softly as her soft hands wrapped around your calves, pulling your legs carefully apart and gently spreading your pussy lips but making sure not to touch your aching hole. You wished she would, you imagined her acrylics gently rubbing at your insides, her fingertips rubbing your G-spot. You gasped softly when you felt her spread you, and she heard.

"Alright, you're all set up and look monster-ready", She chuckled and made her way back to the front hallway.

"Ok sweety, I'm going to close the holes around you and obviously the one in front of you will just close. The room will fill with a light gass, but it shouldn't feel suffocating. If it does, or anything hurts or goes wrong, press that red button to your left. Am I understood?"

You nodded and looked into her bright green eyes. You wanted to make her proud and prove you deserved to stay and that you could do the best at your job. Maybe you'd get a reward for doing well.

The hole closed and the wall behind you clenched tightly around your hips. This made you feel secure and the squeeze made you feel secure. A robotic voice sounded in a speaker,

"Is your waist secured too tightly?", I sat there for a moment and I answered out loud not sure what else I could do.

"No."

"Good. Prepare for Aphrodisiac.", As the voice went silent, you heard a soft hissing, and quiet music began to play. You took a few purposeful deep breaths as you let your mind wander to the various creatures that might violate you.

You hadn't realized how much time had gone by and soon the hole in front of you opened up and the hole around your hip loosened slightly. You could hear talking behind you, a deep gruff voice sounding out.

"Good- gods... Look at this one-", Another voice soon to follow.

"Damn, I wonder how good his mouth is...(y/n) huh? Cute name. I'll take the mouth first then we can swap out."

You looked down to see the drool pooled against your chin and your face flushed in embarrassment. You sat upright, trying to ready yourself for the fun.

"Ooh. You're really exited for this huh?", A harsh slap fell across your ass, causing you to moan out. The creature laughed and you felt a pointed tip against your sloppy hole.

Soon a thick, green cock was pushed through the hole in front of you, the pre-cum-covered tip pressed lightly against your cheek. The feeling of it was amazing, the drugs filling your head with so much glee. You rested your weight on your elbows and took hold of; what you were assuming was an orc's cock with both hands and rubbed the leaking, pink-tinted tip all over your face.

A soft groan could be heard from the other side of the wall and the creature began to thrust into the hole and against your face.

"Fuuck yes.. god whatever you're doing, pretty boy- keep going-", This excited you, and you happily obliged, and began to softly kiss against his soft tip. You smeared his leaking cum against your lips like salty lipgloss.

The animal behind you thrusted into your cunt roughly, causing you to pull the Orc just into your lips and moan out around him.

"Mmm!", You pushed your hips back against the man behind you.

"Very eager arent you, Sweetheart... I'm going to make you into a delightful little cum-mutt.", he growled as he began to push his hips forward into you, filling you and letting your walls stretch around him, all the way down to his inflating knot.

You were praying it was a Were-Tiger, you loved how handsome they were, their enticing colors, a Lion, or maybe a panther- the daydreams swam around in your head as you began to throat the Orc without much thought, swirling your tongue around his sensitive tip.

"Oh my god, that's so fucking good- yes- Good boy. I might become a regular if you keep this up...", this was encouragement, and you began to suck him into your throat deeper, bobbing your head faster.

You felt a set of claws sink into your hips deeply, but not breaking skin as the creature behind you pounded into you and pressed his knot as hard as he could against you. It was obvious how much he wanted to force it in.

The hole in front of you was big enough to fit the orc's balls through and you used one hand to steady his cock in your mouth, the other reaching down to fondle and squeeze them teasingly. Another soft hissing noise filled the space next to you and a little of the gas spilled out of the holes, encouraging the monsters to be more aggressive with you.

Your holes were getting violently fucked from both ends now and you could feel their lengths pulsing and throbbing against your walls and esophagus. You moaned loudly over the orc's cock, the vibrations sending him into a thrusting frenzy as he forced himself as deeply into your mouth as he could, cum filling your throat quicker than you could swallow, the warmth flooding your chest as you tried not to gag and choke.

Soon after, you felt the man behind you shove his knot into you as he came, his sharp tip pressing against your sensitive cervix. You squirted against him and pressed back against him, trying to ride out your orgasm on his knot. As your pussy clenched and grabbed at his cock, he made sure to grind with you, milking himself as much as he could. The orc pulled out of the hole in front of you and you could hear his heavy breathing as he leaned on the wall.

"Oh my- fuck that was so good.."

You moaned even louder, now that your mouth wasn't full as the man began to fuck you with his knot, popping it in and out as he continued to drain himself. He pulled out and groped your ass affectionately. You happily spaced out and arched your back, laying down and breathing for a moment. After about two minutes you felt a set of two giant fingers rub up and down your pussy and asshole.

The orc was using both you and the man's juices to lubricate both of your holes. You pushed your hips back against his fingers needily.

"Hold on sweet boy. I'll be inside of you soon.", This made you let out a soft pathetic whine, and then a thick, red, textured cock entered the hole in front of you. You immediately wrapped your mouth and hand around him excitedly, circling your tongue around his length.

A roar sounded from the other side, and he immediately began to fuck your mouth, which you were practically begging for. One of the orc's fingers slipped into your pussy, filling it even more than the other creature's cock did.

You drooled more around the man's length and rubbed him vigorously as you finally got to see the knot that filled you. You reached up with your free hand and treated him as you did the orc, massaging his knot and squeezing it tightly.

The orc pushed his fingers into you, into both stretching your holes. He eased them into you and your walls clenched hungrily around them. He chuckled and removed his finger from your pussy, keeping one in your virgin asshole. He moved his finger gently in and out and you could feel his tip against your cunt. The idea of his pretty tip against you made you clench more, just to squeeze out any of your slicks that you could. You'd spend all day sucking it if you could.

"Good boy~ Keep up like that and I'm going to cum down your delicious- feeling throat. God yes- right there-", The man in front of you cooed at you and you moaned around his tip louder as the orc entered you. You swirled your tongue aggressively around his tip and flicked your tongue over the small crease and hole.

His hips spasmed, forcing his cock into your mouth as his throbbing cock spewed warm, sticky cum into your mouth. You pushed your head forward to get the rest of him into your mouth, even trying to fit his knot into your mouth. You felt like your jaw was going to unhinge, but were almost excited to suck on it.

"Ugh- F-God!!", He milked himself into your mouth and tried to help shove himself into your hungry jaws, almost getting off to the feeling of your teeth scraping against his large knot.

The orc pushed himself into you deeply, enough to tease himself by rubbing against the hole of your cervix.

"Mmm, you're so tight-", He chuckled deeply and pulled his finger out of your ass and took your hips into his hands, gripping you securely as he began to thrust in and out.

The man in front of you pulled out of your mouth, allowing you to gasp and cough softly. You wiped your mouth and giggled dazedly, happily arching your back for the monster behind you.

It wasn't long before he couldn't help himself and began to greedily move faster. A soft tapping could be heard as his balls slapped softly against your clit, providing extra stimulation for yourself. You moaned loudly and cursed softly.

You began to grope your tits, pinching at your nipples with one hand and ducking on your fingers with the other, missing the feeling of something in your mouth. Your tongue felt lonely, but your pussy was being very well taken care of. The orc was shaped so wonderfully, his cock was slightly thicker in the middle, rubbing every single weak spot you had. You wanted to hold in your orgasm for as long as possible but were not successful, squirting against him and pushing your hips back into him to encourage your orgasm.

He happily moved his hips slower, guiding you through the rest of your orgasm. After you'd finished, he pulled out of you and pressed himself against you asshole.

"Now, I get to treat you like a real boy-", He laughed and pushed himself roughly into your ass and moved aggressively. The orc was needy for your tightness, huffing and grunting like an animal as he took you. You could feel his big hands wrapping around your whole waist as he used you like a fleshlight.

A heavy fog settled over you as you lay down against the table, happily just trying to relax your body for the other. You could hear the other creature talking to the orc behind you.

"God he looks so good when he's full, and his pussy is leaking cum.", The orc laughed as he thrusted.

"Isn't he? and his ass is so fucking tight- I can't get enough. We'll- UIgh- definitely have to come back-", The orc leaned forward and rested some of his weight against your back, you could feel the warmth and sweat on his chest. Your whines and whimpers subsided to quiet breaths of foggy salvation.

"We should request a private room with him, if he ended up a perma-hire." You could sense the other monster's eyes on you. You imagined him looking down at you like a steak and drooling against the soft fabric beneath you.

"God- I'm so close-", The orc grunted as he drove himself as hard as he could into you, groaning and laughing as he fucked you into a happy stupor. You felt a hot liquid burst into you and you screamed out, your tongue hanging out like a dog.

He panted and held himself inside of you for a moment before carefully pulling out. They both laughed softly and ran their hands and paws over your thighs and waist.

"You did so good for us pretty boy, we'll be back to see you again if we can. Maybe we'll have the pleasure of seeing your gorgeous face. It has to be as beautiful as your body."

They both gave your ass a good slap before you heard them leave. After a moment, you heard mechanisms wiring and the door around your hips was opened as well as the door in front of you. Your eyes drifted up to see the busty secretary who led you back here.

"Hiii Andromedaaa...", You slurred softly and giggled, absolutely fucked out of your mind. She smiled down at you and moved the hair out of your face.

"Did you have fun darling?", Her voice was soft and she held her clipboard up with her pen ready.

"It was very wonderful, I had so much fun.", She nodded and wrote something down.

"Mhm. Did they treat you well?", Her eyes didn't leave her paper.

"Yes, Ma'am.", She once more wrote something down and helped you out of the machine after tucking the clipboard under her arm. You smiled and wobbled slightly.

"Would you like some help? We have some really strong staff who can hold you up or carry you to your room to rest.", You nodded and looked around, trying to find something for you to steady yourself. Andromeda pulled a small walkie-talkie from her pocket and spoke into it.

"Hey, Can you send a carrier here, to hall 3-A please?", Within mere moments, a woman walked into the hall, she must've been at least 5ft 11'. You gawked at her, she was built very strongly, her breasts blending with muscle.

"Hello, I'll be your Carrior for the night. May I?", She smiled and opened her arms, taking a step closer. You nodded and replied softly. She had a soft Southern accent that made me swoon.

"Mhm- Please-", You reached out for her and did your best to stumble over to her. She picked you up carefully, bridal style. You looked up and studied her features. She had Darker skin than Andromeda's olive tint, a delightful, deep caramel color. Her hair was up in a ponytail or a messy bun, you couldn't tell very well. It looked to be a box dyed red but over her already dark hair.

She carried you to the room you had undressed in and into a side room you hadn't noticed. It was a bathroom with a luxurious bath and she gently laid you in it.

"Would you like me to turn on the water for you?", Her face tinted slightly darker as she looked you over.

"Yes please", You smiled up at her, blushing as well. She turned the water on to a nice hot temperature used a small picture and filled it with warm water, gently rinsing you off. The bath was then plugged and she pulled another pitcher off of the counter that was full of a creme-colored liquid and what looked like flower petals.

"If you dont mind my sayin' so- you look very pretty, uhm-", She gingerly poured the milk bath mixture into the water and over your body.

"(Y/N)", You added and giggled at her bashfullness.

"Got it. Well, I'm gonna let you clean up alright? Sure you can manage?", She stood, folding her arms in front of her like a bouncer at a club.

"Yes, I think I'll be alright.", You giggled more and smiled big. She nodded and opened the door to leave.

"You just uh- Let me know if you need me alright?"

"Alright.", You watched as she left and waited until hearing the second door to your room close before squealing happily, the night had gone amazingly and you'd been carried back to your room by the most attractive woman you thought you'd ever seen. You'd definitely be staying.

(Not my art, found on google :3)

[yanderes-galore]

I'm sorry but I love this woman, can I ask for a Liane Cartman concept please?

I mean, I've done a concept for Randy... it's only fair. This is also not the first time I've been requested to write mother characters so I'll see what I can do for you ^^

I'm pretty sure I'm like the only one who's written for the parents.

Yandere! Liane Cartman Concept

Ft. Yandere! Platonic! Eric Cartman

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic (Liane)/Platonic (Eric)

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Forced family dynamic, Eric tries to play matchmaker when he shouldn't, Liane is a very subtle yandere, Manipulation, Implied attempted intimacy, Dubious relationship, Drugging, Abduction.

Oh, Liane is a sweet woman.

She's a single mother who parents Eric Cartman alone.

Liane is good-natured, kind, and wants to help people when she can.

She's skilled in cooking and baking along with hosting parties.

Although she used to do drugs and can be... promiscuous.

Liane could have her darling be a family friend that helped her take care of Eric when he was younger.

Eric is a handful... obviously.

So having help take care of him makes Liane grateful towards you.

The woman most likely has known you for years.

You're essentially partnering with her to take care of Eric.

To the point of Eric taking notice of you in his childhood.

He doesn't have a dad... but his mom always has this friend who comes over to help take care of him.

As a result you may get Eric to grow close to you also....

Liane likes the company you provide when you come over.

It makes her even happier when Eric comes running down the stairs to see you.

Eric may see you as a parental figure since you're around so often.

Liane comes of as a clingy friend at first, regardless on if she actually has romantic feelings for you.

She invites you over often and talks to you for hours.

You'll even be given food she made herself, anything for you, right?

Can you blame Eric for being confused when he sees you and his mom so friendly?

His mom really likes you... more than the other partners she's had.

This feels genuine when he sees you talk for hours.

Liane may be a platonic yandere at this point, but what Eric does could shift things over.

Eric makes plans to keep you in the family because he likes you as his parent.

You can't leave if you and his mom start dating, right?

It makes sense! You've already been parenting him!

So he puts together his master plan.

Eric would probably try to convince his mother that you are in love with her.

You heard that folks, Eric makes his mom a yandere.

"Mom... I think (Y/N) likes you a lot."

He does things like mention it in conversation when you aren't around.

"Well of course, we've been friends for years, Eric-"

"I mean like... MORE than friends, y'know? I think they love you!"

"Oh...?"

That alone may not work so Eric makes gifts in your name.

He gets flowers and presents in your name and leaves them on the porch.

He even tried to set up a romantic bedroom kind of thing, throwing rose petals around the room and placing an... intimate gift supposedly from you on the bed before running off.

He's masterminding this whole obsession to benefit himself.

All this work has the potential to shift Liane's feelings.

After all... she's under the impression you've been sending her all these hints.

The bedroom gift solidified it for her.

Liane never thought of you in such a way...

But if you really do feel like that... she'll try it.

You're going to notice Liane is a lot more flirty with you when you come over now.

Eric himself also seems suspicious, watching you two just out of view.

The Cartman family feels weird all of a sudden.

Liane starts baking and cooking for you more.

She claims she's making your favorites and is oddly touchy.

You have mixed feelings about all of this.

Even more so when Eric calls you his new mother/father.

Liane and Eric's behavior gets strange.

You end up finding out too late when you eat Liane's cooking one day and feel tired.

The last thing you see is the two smiling at you before you pass out...

You'll enjoy your new life at their home.

[riniworld]

Hi how you can you do a yandere that treated the reader like trash but the reader is really nice and always forgive him but they had enough when the yandere slept with her bestfriend and they are engaged BTW if you don't want to you don't have to love your work sorry I'm not good with English

thank you for requesting and your english is great btw:D!

GN!reader

warnings// toxic behavior,indirect mention of drugging, not proofread.

reference// you,mention of beautiful one time,babe one time.

a/n// I'm really afraid you won't like that 'cause i like to add my touch to things and that make it a little different from what you expect-hope it's to your liking!

you grew in a loving household,where no hatred could find it's way between you,as you learned to give everyone a reason before judging them,you believed everyone deserve another chance in life.

and that what got you in this situation,you knew that it's really dumb to stay with your fiancè,but what can you do? you won't deny that you love him,so you kept giving him chances.

he didn't come to your date? maybe he have some important work that he forget about it!...or even to tell you.

he ignores you alot? it's only nature! you weren't engaged for along time maybe he's just nervous.

he threw your gifts away? it's your fault you didn't bring him something he likes,you'll try better next time!

why did he asked for your hand after all? of course he loves you it's just...complicated...you're just being dramatic.

you've been telling yourself that every time you were about to breakdown,although you know nothing of that is your fault,but you just needed a reason for all of that.

what really kept you waiting for things to get better,is one day it was your anniversary and you planned for a date and told him about it but he didn't come,you were really upset but the next day there was a bouquet of flowers on your door even though he didn't bother himself on knocking on the door to apologize talks to you,he still at least thought about you!.

but he had another point of view to things.

you were the really sweet,innocent person in the neighbor who helps everyone,he didn't like you at first thinking it's just a facade you put on to win Peoples' heart, but his parents got a liking to you and that when they pressured him to propose to you saying he won't find better than you for him,he either wasn't a one to disobey his parents especially not when they had this look of hope in their eyes,and that's how it happened.

he,to this day,thinks your faking all of your kindness,he promised to break your fake mask and show your "true self" to the public,specifically his parents.

but whatever he did you weren't backing down! he tried all of things to make you snap but you always return to him with a smile the next day.

he tried to not fall for you,not to get even a liking to anything about you,but he couldn't,no god he couldn't, from your smile that he hates filled with positivity,to when you keep asking if he needed anything,or when you come to his work place to give him his food and that cute little notes on it to remind him to take a break and drink water he always put them away to throw them later, but they somehow ends in his drawer, and suddenly by time he grew desperate to see them everyday,to see you in general, but he of course won't make that abviouse, he still do not want to get rid of you.

he hates you to the point he fired one of the workers because he heard him say you were beautiful.

he hates you to the point he have your name tattooed on his chest just above his heart.

he hates you to the point he has a whole album of you in his phone.

he hates you to the point he's planning on kidnapping you if something went wrong.

you were heading to your fiancè workplace..again.

it was pretty easy toget there,because your bestfriend is his secretary so they'll let you in without questioning.

and it benefits you alot,you trust them with everything and that why you told them to keep an eye on him to tell you if he needed something that he can't get in work,and you can get some information as his habits to know him more.

but you didn't think of the consequences of this.

you arrived in front of your friend's office.

"hello,f/n." you greeted them.

they left their head up from their computer "oh,hey y/n...you can get in he's not busy at the moment."

you smile at them "thank you,and I've brought launch for you too ny the way."

"oh my! how kind of you."

you exchange some talks before you say goodbye and head to your fiancè office.

you took a deep breath preparing yourself for anything he might say,then you knock on the door even if your friend said he's free you don't want to risk making him angry.

he gave permission to enter.

you enter the office and close the door behind you,he didn't left his head from the papers in his hands.

you cleared your thraot awkwardly "um...good evening."

....

"i..uh,i brought you launch in case you're hungry." you placed it on his desk.

he didn't bother to look at you or to even respond.

"okay then,I'll-I'll see you later...i guess,good luck with your work."

you left the office disappointed or sad you don't know anymore.

your fiancè sigh in frustration,would think be better if he just act normally with you?

"it's abviouse that you don't love them." someone point out.

your fiancè left his head to see who dared to enter without his permission,to his surprise it was his secretary.

"excuse me?." that was too random for them to say such thing.

your bestfriend walks closer to him untill they too close to his face,hands on his chest "why don't you just..abandonment them and look for someone better.."

why didn't he push them away? he don't know.

all he know is that he..fucked up.

you're sitting in your fiancè's room.

His parents have invited you to eat dinner with them,and it was a great opportunity to at least have a proper conversation with him.

you're not a one to wonder in someone's belongings but something catchs your eyes,something familiar on the desk near the bed.

you tried to fight the argue to see what is it,but your friend was taking too long,and no one is harmed if you make sure,right?

you reach for it,and what you saw made you sick.

it was an earring...you bestfriend earring(that they slipped it in his bucket purposely),what is it doing here? in his room..near his bed.

the idea was on your mind but you don't want to believe it.

then you heard the front door open and someone shouted "I'm home."

it's him,you don't know if you want to confront him now...in front of his parents,so you decided to let it for tomorrow,but you're definitely not staying.

you made any random excuse to left,he didn't even tell you to stay,and you don't expect it....not anymore.

.

.

.

you arrived at your house,as soon as you entered you threw yourself,crying and sobbing loudly,you don't live with your parents so no one can hear you.

after everything you did,even stepping on your pride,that how he return your patience?!

the next day,you went to his workplace early,but this time you're going to end everything instead of trying to make things better.

you didn't talk to your friend,ignoring them completely,and you didn't even knock on the door as you entred.

your to be ex fiancè left his head up to meet your strangely calm eyes.

you walked to him untill you stood in front of his desk.

"what do you want early in the morning? i swear I'm not in the mood for your strange gifts." he say with annoyance.

you're too not in the mood to fight with him,there's nothing deserve to fight for anyway he didn't treat you right from the begining.

so you silently remove your ring and threw it on his desk.

he looked atthe ring with slightly wide eyes "what's the meaning of this?."

"it's abvious,I'm tired of all of this,we're done."

"are you stupid or are you pretending to be? it's not a choice you can make take alone." his voice start to raise a little.

"oh so now you're telling me that you DON'T want things to end?, please stop pretending I've had enough,from your ignorance to your shitty behavior, i tolerated all of this but I'm still a human who had their limits,you should've just said that you had eyes for another person,i wouldn't have made all of this attempts to fix things between us!" you yell as tears threatened to fall.

"what the actual fuck are you talking about?!" he yelled back.

"about this." you threw the earring at him.

he looked at it for quite some minutes "Did you search my room?"(i don't know if that's right)

"that's what you're caring for? if I've looked into your things?, i shouldn't have expected something else."

silent filled the room before you break it "anyway,I'll make things official tomorrow...you can be free again or whatever."

you turned around to leave but before you reach the door something or someone grab your arm.

your ex fiancè looked at you with anger and..something else,then he threw you on a sofa that was in his office.

before you get up his was on top of you It prevents you from escaping.

you looked at him with anger before it turn to horror by the look on his face.

"you don't dare to leave,you won't leave,that's not even a reason to leave,we're engaged and soon we'll be married and you'll be mine,forever and ever,untill that time I'll make sure you won't go anywhere else."

he reached for a drawer that was above you,and he took out a plug and a strange liquid from it,you tried to get up but he was too strong.

suddenly he put the liquid on your mouth and nose,you start to panic but couldn't scream.

"shhhh babe,don't fight it you'll wake up somewhere better..safer, and for that secretary that made you think of leaving...I'll made sure you won't see them again."

the last thing you feel is a pair of lips on your forehead before you fall unconsciousness.

@eldana23 (i hope you don't mind mentioning!) thank you for requesting again! it was really fun to write it!.

have a good day/night♡

[sargeant-bxrnes]

parties, enemies & desires [rafe cameron]

summary: you're a kook, sarah's best friend and rafe's ‘natural’ enemy. you two hate each other. or think that you do, until something happens at a party and your actions prove the opposite.

warnings: cursing, alcohol & drug consumption, violence (physical fights), rafe being rafe and a bit of a kinky bitch, shower sex [my english]

word count:  5.5K

click for my master list

requested: yes! here's the request

my requests are open (takes me around a week to write ‘em tho)

The Cameron family. They’ve been your next door neighbors for over 12 years. Your family moved to Outer Banks, specifically on the Figure 8 side, because your father is Ward Cameron's business partner.

As a result, your family and the Cameron family often had meetings, which meant you started spending time with the Cameron children.

From the first moment the two of you met, it was clear you and Sarah would be best friends, you had had an immediate connection, even if at that time had been over the latest Barbie model that had come out; it was a good connection.

And also from the first moment you talked to Rafe Cameron, you knew you and him wouldn't get along.

He was self-centered, annoying, cocky, towered over you way too easily, and had that stupid grin that made you want to punch him.

And that has not changed over the years.

You and Sarah are best friends, you're always attached to the hip, and that drives Rafe insane; he stands being around you as much as you stand being around him, which is nothing.

Sarah thought the whole situation was funny: you and Rafe hating each other for years and for no good reason.

You'd often tell her you didn't need a reason if it was her brother you were talking about, but Sarah would just laugh and nod her head in an ironic way, saying that you were in denial. Of what? You had no fucking idea.

Every time Rafe spoke, he would say something that would make your eyes roll. That's how much of an asshole he is.

Also, there was that stupid smirk that appears on his lips when he knows you're furious, and it makes you want to punch him and—no. Just punch him. Nothing else.

To everyone you could deny, but you couldn't deny to yourself how attractive Rafe is. When he was little, Rafe was a pretty boy, with those big blue eyes, dirty blond hair and that little smile.

But now? He's tall, lean, with that same ocean blue eyes, sharp jawline, and that smile that caused things in you that you didn't want to put a name to.

"You ready?" Sarah's voice startled you slightly, causing you to jump slightly and almost ruin your makeup.

"Yes." you said with a nod, putting your lipstick away in your purse.

Today's plan was to go to a party a few blocks away, you had every intention of having a good time. Of course, that meant you would have to ignore Rafe all night, since he would also be attending the party.

"Are you two ready?!" Rafe's voice was heard from downstairs, echoing through the house. "I don't have all fucking day. Hurry the fuck up!"

"We're coming!" Sarah shouted back, slightly desperate at her older brother's insistence.

"It's not our fault that you don't know how to dress up and always look the same!" you added after. You wanted to say 'look as ugly' but you knew it would be a lie, a very bad one at that.

"Oh, and you, out of all people, are supposed to know how to dress up?!" Rafe's tone was a mocking one, you couldn't see him but you knew he had that stupid little smirk you hate so much on his lips.

You didn't answer, and left the room along with Sarah, starting down the stairs quickly so as not to keep him waiting any longer.

Rafe was seconds away from making another mocking comment, but all thoughts went out of his head as soon as he saw you coming down the stairs in a red dress, which fitted all the right places of your body.

He let his eyes roam your body from head to toe without shame or reservation, which you noticed.

"Shut your mouth Rafe, you'll catch a fly." you teased, taking notice of the way he stared at you, which if you had to be honest, made you feel slightly warm.

"Oh, fuck you, Y/N."

"You wish." you said with an amused tone, brushing by his side as you too roamed his body with your gaze.

"Flirt later, we have to go now." Sarah urged, smiling slightly as she saw the 'disgusted' and 'horrified' faces both of you had.

The three of you arrived at the party not even 10 minutes later, Rafe disappeared in the crowd, and it didn't take a genius to know he'd gone back to either selling or using.

It was a good party at that, you had to admit it. There was all sorts of drinks and substances, good music and a perfect ambiance.

You were slightly drunk already, nothing to worry about though, only the kind of drunk where everything is... good. You were happy, and had this constant need to dance and smile, things that did not go unnoticed by Rafe, who'd been staring at you from across the room for almost an hour now.

He just couldn't keep his eyes away from you, you were an alluring sight in the midst of the dancing crowd, with your red dress, bright smile and electrifying dance moves. It made him want to be the fucking air just to be around you.

Rafe hated to admit it, but you were so fucking pretty it hurt. And sometimes, he was almost convinced he claimed to hate you just to avoid facing the truth of what he genuinely felt.

It was easier to declare hate, than... that.

"She's hot, isn't she?" a kook said next to him, Rafe could barely remember his name, something like Brad, or was it Chad?

"Yeah," Rafe nodded his head, as his eyes focused on you once again. "Yeah, she is."

"Hopefully I'll get to hit that tonight." the man commented, Rafe furrowed his brows at the unnecessary comment as the man gave a forceful pat on his shoulder, and approached you.

Rafe wanted to blame the alcohol and the drugs for it, but the wave of anger he felt was almost indescribable. He felt it surging inside him like an impulse he could barely hold back, his hands balled into fists at the sight and his jaw clenched.

He inhaled deeply, and looked away in an attempt to calm himself down and find something else to focus on, if you decided to get laid with that douche, it was not of Rafe's business. You two were nothing but enemies, so why was he so bothered by it?

He walked to the nearest table or surface he could find, and fished a little bag from his pocket, occasionally glancing at you, especially now that you were talking with the man.

"Leave me alone,"

Rafe heard your voice from afar, he raised his head, running a hand through his hair as he looked in your direction, as you talked with the man, arms crossed and your brows furrowed.

The smile had vanished from your face, you had stopped dancing and even though the music was unnecessarily loud, Rafe could tell your tone was serious. The guy said something, Rafe had no clue of what it was, but by the look on your face, it hadn't been good.

Should he do something? Rafe wasn't sure, but just in case he got closer to the scene, so he could hear what was being said. The last thing he wanted was to interrupt a normal conversation, and make you hate him even more.

The man placed a hand on your hip, which you slapped away, but the man did not relent and attempted to place a hand on your arm.

"Leave me alone, Brad." your tone was a serious one, which made Rafe understand that things were going south.

"Just once, c'mon," the man insisted and you shook your head. "If you dress like a slut, you'll get treated like one."

And that comment, mixed with the expression on your face, is what made Rafe snap.

Before he even knew what he was doing, Rafe approached the man, grabbed him by the shoulder to turn him around, and punched him square in the face, making sure his ring hit the man's nose.

"What the fuck man?!" the man on the ground questioned Rafe, as he put a hand on his nose to try to stop the bleeding.

"She told you to leave her alone." Rafe said firmly.

"Don't worry man, sluts are easy, you'll get your chance." the man had the nerve to say.

Whatever thread that had had Rafe's self-control in place snapped, and Rafe felt himself losing control as soon as he began kicking and beating the man up.

The party had long since stopped, people watched the scene intently, as if it were a reality show.

Rafe was beating the shit out of the man, who could barely cover himself to avoid the punches. You wanted to stop Rafe, but you knew that approaching him when he's this angry is a bad idea.

Kelce approached the scene, and at the same time, a friend of the man Rafe was beating up, attacked Topper.

The point is, in a matter of no time, a fight had broken out. And it was a mess.

People who had had nothing to do with it at the beginning were now involved, there were around 15-20 people fighting each other for unknown reasons, everyone else in the party was screaming or running, and as if that wasn't enough, it started to rain.

And sirens were heard.

You needed to get out of there, in desperation, you looked around for Sarah, but there was no sign of her, Topper wasn't on sight anymore, so you hoped his stupid ass had done something right for once and had gotten Sarah out of there.

Which only left Rafe, who seemed to be having the time of his life.

Any smart person would think twice and thrice before picking a fight with Rafe. He's 6'4 tall, has been going to the gym for over two years, has cocaine running through his veins most of the time, and over all—he has explosive rage, and no fear whatsoever to beat someone up.

You found him in the middle of the fight, still beating Brad up, who couldn't even strike him once, you knew you had to get Rafe out of there, Sarah would never forgive you if you left her brother behind.

"Rafe!" you called him, attempting to approach him, which was dangerous enough. "Rafe!"

"Stay the fuck back, Y/N!"

"We have to go!" you insisted, not caring what he had to say. "The police is here!"

That made Rafe stop mid-swing. He knew he was on thin ice, both with his father and the police, there was only so many offenses Shoupe could ignore, and his father had already warned him to stay out of trouble.

He aggressively let go of the man, making sure he fell to the ground before he kicked him one last time, and walked to where you were.

Without a word, Rafe grabbed you by the wrist with some force, and began dragging you out of the house, not caring about anything or anyone else.

"Rafe, let go of me."

"Shut your mouth and move."

Some people were after you, and honestly, you didn't want to find out if they wanted to fight Rafe or were just trying to leave the place, so you listened to him and hurried.

Both of you left the house and walked under the freezing, heavy rain, unfortunately Rafe had parked on another block, which meant you two would walk under the cold rain for an entire block.

By the time you made it to his truck, you dress was drenched as well as your hair, and you were a shivering mess, Rafe somehow seemed to be unbothered by the rain though.

"What about Sarah?" you questioned with slight urgency.

"Uh, Topper got her out of here," he said as he began to drive away. "I think."

"You think?!"

"A 'thank you' would be nice, y'know?!" Rafe snapped your way, his eyes burning holes in your exposed skin.

"Thank you," you admitted with a small nod, wrapping your arms around your own frame, attempting to warm up. "But I didn’t ask you to get into a fight for me."

"Well..." he shrugged carelessly, his eyes focused on the road ahead. "Try to be more grateful next time, yeah? I can't always go around, saving your ass."

Rafe wanted to add 'unless you want me to' at the end of that sentence, but he knew it would be in a top 10 lamest things to say, so he kept the thought to himself.

He really didn't mind getting into a fight for you, he'd do it again without a problem, but that doesn't mean his own willingness to do so doesn't bother him, why was he so willing to do this if he hated you? Does he actually hate you, for starters?

Knowing that you would be spending the night at Tanneyhill, Rafe drove home in silence. Once there, he got out of the truck without saying anything, and entered the house. You followed closely, still a shivering mess.

The house was empty. Ward, Wheezie and Rose were out for the weekend, and there was so sign of Sarah or Topper either.

"Shit," you mumbled, worried for your best friend's safety, you had tried to call her on the way here, but she hadn't picked up. "Are you sure Topper got her out of there?"

"Yeah," Rafe's voice was disinterested; and coming from the kitchen. "Stop worrying so much, is pathetic."

"You idi—" you insult was left incomplete when your eyes landed on Rafe.

It had been too dark outside and to messy in the party for you to notice how fucked up Rafe was, his brow, nose and lips had dried blood all over, and his knuckles were still bleeding.

"Holy shit, Rafe..." you mumbled in worry, approaching him quickly.

"Don't worry about it," he replied, staring at you and noticing how you were still trembling, your hair dripping down on his kitchen floor. "Go uh, go take a hot shower before you catch a cold."

"What?" you raised an eyebrow at him, wondering since when does he care if you catch a cold. "Let me—"

"No," he shook his head and pointed upstairs. "Go take a fucking shower or I'll drag you there."

It was supposed to be a threat, but it had felt far from that. Your body was pressed against his, faces close from each other and his voice had been low and raspy, in an attempt to intimidate you, but it only allured you.

"Let's make a deal," you proposed, looking deeply into his blue eyes. "I'll take a shower, only if you let me clean your wounds. If not—"

"Don't be fucking childish—"

"—and if I get sick, I'll blame you for it," you conditioned. "And you know that Sarah will get mad, right?"

"And do I care... why?" his tone was daring as he raised an eyebrow, ignoring the ache he felt.

"She will threaten to tell your dad that you went out, even though you were supposed to be grounded. And of course, you don't want Ward to know you gave two shits about his orders, do you?" you questioned, his silence was an answer already.

"You bitch..." Rafe mumbled.

Technically, you had done nothing but remind Rafe the predicament he'd be facing, but still, he wanted to blame you for all his problems, as always.

"So... will you stop acting like a little kid and let me clean those wounds?"

"Alright."

"Stop moving." you asked Rafe once again, making him grunt slightly at the feeling of the alcohol seeping into his wounds.

"Then stop being so fucking rough."

"Cry baby."

"Bitch."

"Idiot."

"Fuck you."

"In your dreams, Rafe." you mumbled over his lips, purposefully squeezing the cotton in between your fingers, so more alcohol would get in his lip wound.

You were leaning against Rafe's sink, he was standing right in front of you, both of you close to the mirror light so you could see his wounds more clearly.

You wanted to say it was because you were slightly drunk,—but the truth is that the effect of the alcohol had worn off—and you were left with your sole awareness of your actions, and your thoughts.

Having Rafe this close was incredibly tempting.

He had refused to sit down, so you'd started cleaning his wounds while standing up, and since the bastard is incredibly tall, he had to bend down so you could see what you were doing.

His face was inches away from yours, he had both hands resting on the edge of the sink, one arm on either side of your waist, trapping your body between the cabinet and his own body.

His body warmth had helped stop your shivering; still, Rafe could feel the cold, humid fabric of your dress against the skin of his arms, and he knew that if you hadn't taken a shower yet, it wasn't because you didn't want to, but because you're a fool and wanted to help him. He doesn't know why, and neither do you.

You were extremely focused on the cut in his eyebrow, while Rafe stared at you, his eyes traveling from your eyes to your lips and back to your eyes.

There was only so much Rafe could take.

Without a second thought,—without thinking about what he would be admitting with this, —Rafe pressed his lips to yours.

Your first reaction was to freeze, unable to believe Rafe's lips were on yours, or that they felt so soft.

Feeling like an idiot, Rafe was about to pull away, but you quickly continued the kiss, dropping the bloodied piece of cotton into the sink, and placing your cold hands on his face. The coldness of your hands over his wounds made Rafe bite your lip, eliciting a soft moan from you.

Oh.

From there, things went smoothly, Rafe placed his hands on your waist, and with no effort required on his part, he sat you down near the sink, his lips still attached to yours. You spread your legs slightly, so he could stand between them; causing your dress to roll up around your waist, and up your legs.

Rafe was the one who broke away, looking directly into your eyes, searching for something, anything, to know that you were okay with this. You nodded at his silent question, wiping your lipstick off his lip with your thumb before he let out a little smirk and crashed his lips against yours again, placing both of his large, warm hands on your cold thighs.

With ease, your hands slid under Rafe's still wet shirt, the tips of your fingers caressing the skin of his abs, your nails clawing slightly on his pecs. Rafe's hands slid up your thighs and under your dress, taking it off your body with ease as you raised your arms over your head to make the job easier for him.

Your lips connected again once there were less layers of clothing between your skins, one of his hands wrapped the sides of your neck as you pulled him closer by the belt loops in his jeans, your legs wrapping around his hips.

He sneaked his right hand to your back, where he unlocked your bra and took it off, throwing it at the other end of the bathroom without a single care in the world. His lips trailed from yours, to your jaw, your neck and down your body, taking one nipple into his mouth as he massaged the other with his fingers.

You closed your eyes in bliss, feeling yourself getting wetter in your lace underwear, the one he'd yet to take off, so you'd do it for yourself.

You pushed him slightly by the shoulders, and he relented after a few seconds, giving you a confused look, the one that was replaced by one of lust at the sight of you taking off your underwear in front of him.

Rafe couldn't understand for the life of him, why you got down from the cabinet and started walking away from him. Had he done something wrong? Or were you just messing with his mind and his dick?

"What are you doing?" he asked you in confusion, running a hand through his messy hair.

"Me?" you questioned, playing dumb as you walked to his shower. "I'm gonna take a shower. You? Are free to join me."

You didn't even had to say it twice, Rafe took off his pants and underwear faster than he'd ever done anything in his entire life and followed you to the shower.

You turned on the shower just as you felt Rafe approaching you, his arms wrapping around your body and his lips going straight to your neck, one of his hands slid lower though, his middle finger slipped between your folds, making sure to graze over your clit, but not quite doing anything yet as the water hit your bodies.

It was cold as fuck, so both of you froze in place, you felt Rafe's chuckle over your skin before you heard it, and you shook your head in annoyance, biting your lip as he grazed your earlobe with his teeth, pulling it slightly.

The water soon got hotter and a thousand times more enjoyable. You attempted to turn around to face Rafe, but he didn't quite allow you to, in this position he had the upper hand, there was just no way you could turn the tables around, and for sure Rafe would relish in the dominance.

His thumb moved over your clit, doing circular motions over it while his index and middle finger teased your entrance, entering slowly, and pulling out suddenly, to then enter again, deeper this time.

And as if that wasn't enough teasing, his lips were sucking little spots all over your neck, especially under your ear, while his free hand twisted one of your nipples softly with the tips of his fingers.

“Do you have any idea of the things I wanna do to you?” he whispered in your ear. “I’ve had years to imagine.”

In no time, you were a moaning, whimpering mess in his arms, your ass grinding on him in all the right places, quickly hardening him.

You tried to remain quiet in case someone else was in the house, and it bothered Rafe, as he wanted to hear you repeating his name like a prayer more than anything else, so maybe, after all, he should've admitted he asked Topper to take Sarah away, on purpose.

His fingers were deep inside you, you threw your head back against his shoulder, your back pressed against his chest as you bit your lip, Rafe had a perfect sight of your face, and lower down, a perfect view of his hand disappearing between your legs.

It made him feel so fucking powerful, even more so than money did.

"Oh fuck—" you mumbled as he curled up his fingers in such a delicious way it made you clench your walls in hopes of feeling more. "So good."

The praise made Rafe let out a low grunt as he curled his fingers again, faster and deeper this time, he focused his other hand on your breasts, massaging them softly and in the right way.

"Rafe, please." you begged, your voice so desperate and filled with bliss he swore he could've came just by the sound of his name coming out of your lips in such a way.

"What do you want, princess?" he mumbled in your ear, his fingers accelerating in pace.

"I-" you struggled to say, even more so as he added a third finger. "I need you."

"And you have me."

And you really did, not only now, but always. You've always had him wrapped around your finger, it’s just that now he was more than happy with the way you were wrapping him.

"I need you inside me." you begged, letting out a soft moan as he licked the side of your neck and blew cold air right after.

"You want my dick?" he questioned with a cocky tone, curling his fingers just as you we're about to answer, the tip of his fingers touching your g spot perfectly.

"Y-yes."

"Beg for it."

Your eyes rolled at the back of your head in a mixture of things, his fingers, his rough voice in your ear, and yes, annoyance as well. You couldn't believe (but weren't exactly surprised either) that Rafe was making you beg for his dick.

And as it always happened whenever he decided to start his little games— you would follow and play along, play better, smarter and dirtier.

"Rafe Cameron, I swear that if you don't get inside me right now and make me cum, I'll find someone else who will," you threatened and felt him tense behind you, his fingers stilling inside you, still curled against your spot. "I bet JJ would."

That made him snap out of his games, just as you expected him to. The victorious smirk that found its way to your lips didn't disappear, not even when he pulled out his fingers from inside you and turned you around.

His fingers gripped the sides of your jaw harshly, his eyes staring deeply into yours as the hot water splashed against your back and onto his chest, over your shoulder.

"You're gonna regret that."

Rafe's voice was low and raspy, and if it hadn't been for the lust darkening his eyes, then maybe you would've felt threatened by it. The truth is he looked hot as hell, his wet hair was slicked back, and the steam made his eyes seem bluer, his nose, plump lips and cheeks were red, his skin glistening under the light.

"Open." he demanded, you opened your mouth as he asked, he pulled you closer and without saying a word, he spat in your mouth, softening the grip on your jaw so you could close your mouth and swallow easier. "Good girl."

You tried to look away, but Rafe saw perfectly clear how your cheeks got covered in red, and made a mental note to call you good girl more often.

Rafe knew exactly what to do to get you to take back what you said, so he bent down slightly to wrap his arms around your thighs, and picked you up from the floor, wrapping your thighs around his torso, his dick now grazing your entrance.

“You sure you can take it?” he questioned over your lips, one arm wrapped around you as he teased your entrance with his tip.

Your eyes rolled at his words, and for once, it wasn’t out of annoyance, but because of how fucking hot he sounded.

“Please Rafe…”

Without wasting more time, Rafe aligned himself and sank you down on him, letting out a hoarse groan in delight of how tight you felt, both of you stilled for a second, giving you time to adjust to his size. You felt so fine around him he could’ve finished right there, but he owed you more than that.

You needed him to move, anything, so you clenched around him, trailing your nails down his back. That was his cue, he placed both hands in your hips and started to move your body with ease, the water that ran down on your bodies made your skins glide over one another easier, not to mention he was desperate to fuck you silly once and for all.

To keep you from slipping, Rafe put you against the wall, pounding into you, one of his hands holding your hips while his other arm pressed against the wall to get some leverage.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he mumbled in your ear as he kept his relentless pace. “So fucking good.”

You wanted to say something in return, but he was hitting all the right spots, fucking you so well you couldn’t form a coherent sentence, all you could do was let out moans and repeat his name like it was all you ever knew.

It didn’t take long for you to start clenching around his dick, letting him know he was doing a good job and you were getting closer to your release, and so was he, but was holding himself back.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” you asked in his ear, leaving a sloppy kiss on his jaw. “I’m almost there.”

“Come on,” he urged you, making an effort and picking up his pace, angling his hips differently so he’d hit the perfect spot, and slipping his hand between your bodies, the tips of his fingers going straight to your clit, circling and rubbing. “Come for me, princess. Come around my dick.”

It was almost as if your release had been waiting for his permission, because as soon as he said those words, you reached your highest point of pleasure, letting out a moan of his name as he kept thrusting his hips, riding your high as he too, found his release.

Then came silence, nothing but your accelerated breaths and the shower could be heard, Rafe barely held you up as he regained his breath, and your head was resting on his shoulder as you recovered from such high.

Slowly, you unwrapped your legs from his hips and pulled him out of you, but just as your feet touched the tiles, your legs shook and if it hadn’t been for his arm around your body, you would’ve fallen to the floor.

Sensing the cocky comment he would make, you turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “Not a word, Cameron.”

“Wasn’t gonna say anything, Y/L/N” he shook his head innocently, wetting his lips slowly. “Who would’ve thought you’d be such a good girl for me, tho?”

The redness that coated your cheeks confirmed Rafe’s theory about your praise kink, information he would never forget, and would definitely use in his favour.

“Shut up…” you mumbled, slowly standing up straighter, your legs still shaking slightly.

“Need some help?” he asked in a cocky tone, which earned him a slap on the chest; courtesy of you. “I mean it this time, you look like you need some help.”

“Maybe.” you admitted.

“Fine,” he agreed, leading you to the little surface on the edge of the shower, originally designed to put bottles and such, but would serve as a seat for you. “Which one, mint scented or…” he narrowed his eyes at the bottle as he ran a hand through his wet hair. “uh, ocean breeze, whatever that shit is?”

You couldn’t believe Rafe Cameron was asking you about shampoo scents after fucking you till your legs stopped working.

“Mint.” you replied and he nodded his head, grabbing the bottle and getting closer to you.

“Because of the rain.”

“Both of you are wearing different clothes, his clothes, with matching wet hairs and mint shampoo scent… because of the rain?” Sarah raised an eyebrow at your explanation, trying her best to hide a smile.

Your lie sucked and you know it, after showering properly, Rafe had lent you an old shirt of his and an old pair of sweatpants that hung low on your hips.

“Yeah…”

“Next time you two want to…” Sarah made a hand gesture that made you clear your throat slightly. “Just ask me to leave, no need for Topper to take me away like that.”

“I—“

“And by the way, I told you so.” Sarah said with an amused smile, her eyes flickering from you to her brother and then back to you.

“Uh, whatever do you mean?” Rafe said in a bored tone, waiting for his sister to go away so he could finally settle things with you, talk about how things would be from on.

“I told you two that you didn't hate each other,” Sarah shrugged. “Turns out I was right.”

And with that victorious comment, she exited the kitchen, leaving you and Rafe alone to sort things out.

While there had been no verbal confessions, what had happened between the two of you made it clear that you and Rafe did not hate each other.

Rafe certainly wouldn't have washed your hair and body, lent you some of his most comfortable clothes, and prepared you something to eat right after if he hated you as badly as he claimed to.

Rafe knew exactly what he felt for you, he was tired of claiming to hate you just to have a feeling to declare for you, the truth is that he was almost sure he has loved you since he was 8 years old, but it would be something he would discover slowly with you. He couldn’t do this alone.

Love is not a feeling he is familiar with, he had no clue how it looked like, or what it felt like... but Rafe somehow knew he felt it for you. If not, then he can't fucking explain why he feels the way he does when you're around.

And after knowing what it's like to be inside you, how good you feel around him, and how good you make him feel, Rafe would have to be crazy to let you go.

Whether you two were enemies or lovers, you were his.

His to fight with, his to dance with, his to fuck senselessly, his to caress, his to hate, his to love.

[chrisevansluv]

Here is the 2012 Detail Magazine interview with chris evans:

The Avengers' Chris Evans: Just Your Average Beer-Swilling, Babe-Loving Buddhist

The 30-year-old Bud Light-chugging, Beantown-bred star of The Avengers is widely perceived as the ultimate guy's guy. But beneath the bro persona lies a serious student of Buddhism, an unrepentant song-and-dance man, and a guy who talks to his mom about sex. And farts.

By Adam Sachs,

Photographs by Norman Jean Roy

May 2012 Issue

"Should we just kill him and bury his body?" Chris Evans is stage whispering into the impassive blinking light of my digital recorder.

"Chris!" shouts his mother, her tone a familiar-to-anyone-with-a-mother mix of coddling and concern. "Don't say that! What if something happened?"

We're at Evans' apartment, an expansive but not overly tricked-out bachelor-pad-ish loft in a semi-industrial nowheresville part of Boston, hard by Chinatown, near an area sometimes called the Combat Zone. Evans has a fuzzy, floppy, slept-in-his-clothes aspect that'd be nearly unrecognizable if you knew him only by the upright, spit-polished bearing of the onscreen hero. His dog, East, a sweet and slobbery American bulldog, is spread out on a couch in front of the TV. The shelves of his fridge are neatly stacked with much of the world's supply of Bud Light in cans and little else.

On the counter sit a few buckets of muscle-making whey-protein powder that belong to Evans' roommate, Zach Jarvis, an old pal who sometimes tags along on set as a paid "assistant" and a personal trainer who bulked Evans up for his role as the super-ripped patriot in last summer's blockbuster Captain America: The First Avenger. A giant clock on the exposed-brick wall says it's early evening, but Evans operates on his own sense of time. Between gigs, his schedule's all his, which usually translates into long stretches of alone time during the day and longer social nights for the 30-year-old.

"I could just make this . . . disappear," says Josh Peck, another old pal and occasional on-set assistant, in a deadpan mumble, poking at the voice recorder I'd left on the table while I was in the bathroom.

Evans' mom, Lisa, now speaks directly into the microphone: "Don't listen to them—I'm trying to get them not to say these things!"

But not saying things isn't in the Evans DNA. They're an infectiously gregarious clan. Irish-Italians, proud Bostoners, close-knit, and innately theatrical. "We all act, we sing," Evans says. "It was like the fucking von Trapps." Mom was a dancer and now runs a children's theater. First-born Carly directed the family puppet shows and studied theater at NYU. Younger brother Scott has parts on One Life to Live and Law & Order under his belt and lives in Los Angeles full-time—something Evans stopped doing several years back. Rounding out the circle are baby sister Shanna and a pair of "strays" the family brought into their Sudbury, Massachusetts, home: Josh, who went from mowing the lawn to moving in when his folks relocated during his senior year in high school; and Demery, who was Evans' roommate until recently.

"Our house was like a hotel," Evans says. "It was a loony-tunes household. If you got arrested in high school, everyone knew: 'Call Mrs. Evans, she'll bail you out.'"

Growing up, they had a special floor put in the basement where all the kids practiced tap-dancing. The party-ready rec room also had a Ping-Pong table and a separate entrance. This was the house kids in the neighborhood wanted to hang at, and this was the kind of family you wanted to be adopted by. Spend an afternoon listening to them dish old dirt and talk over each other and it's easy to see why. Now they're worried they've said too much, laid bare the tender soul of the actor behind the star-spangled superhero outfit, so there's talk of offing the interviewer. I can hear all this from the bathroom, which, of course, is the point of a good stage whisper.

To be sure, no one's said too much, and the more you're brought into the embrace of this boisterous, funny, shit-slinging, demonstrably loving extended family, the more likable and enviable the whole dynamic is.

Sample exchange from today's lunch of baked ziti at a family-style Italian restaurant:

Mom: When he was a kid, he asked me, 'Mom, will I ever think farting isn't funny?'

Chris: You're throwing me under the bus, Ma! Thank you.

Mom: Well, if a dog farts you still find it funny.

Then, back at the apartment, where Mrs. Evans tries to give me good-natured dirt on her son without freaking him out:

Mom: You always tell me when you think a girl is attractive. You'll call me up so excited. Is that okay to say?

Chris: Nothing wrong with that.

Mom: And can I say all the girls you've brought to the house have been very sweet and wonderful? Of course, those are the ones that make it to the house. It's been a long time, hasn't it?

Chris: Looooong time.

Mom: The last one at our house? Was it six years ago?

Chris: No names, Ma!

Mom: But she knocked it out of the park.

Chris: She got drunk and puked at Auntie Pam's house! And she puked on the way home and she puked at our place.

Mom: And that's when I fell in love with her. Because she was real.

We're operating under a no-names rule, so I'm not asking if it's Jessica Biel who made this memorable first impression. She and Evans were serious for a couple of years. But I don't want to picture lovely Jessica Biel getting sick at Auntie Pam's or in the car or, really, anywhere.

East the bulldog ambles over to the table, begging for food.

"That dog is the love of his life," Mrs. Evans says. "Which tells me he'll be an unbelievable parent, but I don't want him to get married right now." She turns to Chris. "The way you are, I just don't think you're ready."

Some other things I learn about Evans from his mom: He hates going to the gym; he was so wound-up as a kid she'd let him stand during dinner, his legs shaking like caged greyhounds; he suffered weekly "Sunday-night meltdowns" over schoolwork and the angst of the sensitive middle-schooler; after she and his father split and he was making money from acting, he bought her the Sudbury family homestead rather than let her leave it.

Eventually his mom and Josh depart, and Evans and I go to work depleting his stash of Bud Light. It feels like we drink Bud Light and talk for days, because we basically do. I arrived early Friday evening; it's Saturday night now and it'll be sunup Sunday before I sleeplessly make my way to catch a train back to New York City. Somewhere in between we slip free of the gravitational pull of the bachelor pad and there's bottle service at a club and a long walk with entourage in tow back to Evans' apartment, where there is some earnest-yet-surreal group singing, piano playing, and chitchat. Evans is fun to talk to, partly because he's an open, self-mocking guy with an explosive laugh and no apparent need to sleep, and partly because when you cut just below the surface, it's clear he's not quite the dude's dude he sometimes plays onscreen and in TV appearances.

From a distance, Chris Evans the movie star seems a predictable, nearly inevitable piece of successful Hollywood packaging come to market. There's his major-release debut as the dorkily unaware jock Jake in the guilty pleasure Not Another Teen Movie (in one memorable scene, Evans has whipped cream on his chest and a banana up his ass). The female-friendly hunk appeal—his character in The Nanny Diaries is named simply Harvard Hottie—is balanced by a kind of casual-Friday, I'm-from-Boston regular-dudeness. Following the siren song of comic-book cash, he was the Human Torch in two Fantastic Four films. As with scrawny Steve Rogers, the Captain America suit beefed up his stature as a formidable screen presence, a bankable leading man, all of which leads us to The Avengers, this season's megabudget, megawatt ensemble in which he stars alongside Scarlett Johansson, Mark Ruffalo, Robert Downey Jr., and Chris Hemsworth.

It all feels inevitable—and yet it nearly didn't happen. Evans repeatedly turned down the Captain America role, fearing he'd be locked into what was originally a nine-picture deal. He was shooting Puncture, about a drug-addicted lawyer, at the time. Most actors doing small-budget legal dramas would jump at the chance to play the lead in a Marvel franchise, but Evans saw a decade of his life flash before his eyes.

What he remembers thinking is this: "What if the movie comes out and it's a success and I just reject all of this? What if I want to move to the fucking woods?"

By "the woods," he doesn't mean a quiet life away from the spotlight, some general metaphorical life escape route. He means the actual woods. "For a long time all I wanted for Christmas were books about outdoor survival," he says. "I was convinced that I was going to move to the woods. I camped a lot, I took classes. At 18, I told myself if I don't live in the woods by the time I'm 25, I have failed."

Evans has described his hesitation at signing on for Captain America. Usually he talks about the time commitment, the loss of what remained of his relative anonymity. On the junkets for the movie, he was open about needing therapy after the studio reduced the deal to six movies and he took the leap. What he doesn't usually mention is that he was racked with anxiety before the job came up.

"I get very nervous," Evans explains. "I shit the bed if I have to present something on stage or if I'm doing press. Because it's just you." He's been known to walk out of press conferences, to freeze up and go silent during the kind of relaxed-yet-high-stakes meetings an actor of his stature is expected to attend: "Do you know how badly I audition? Fifty percent of the time I have to walk out of the room. I'm naturally very pale, so I turn red and sweat. And I have to literally walk out. Sometimes mid-audition. You start having these conversations in your brain. 'Chris, don't do this. Chris, take it easy. You're just sitting in a room with a person saying some words, this isn't life. And you're letting this affect you? Shame on you.'"

Shades of "Sunday-night meltdowns." Luckily the nerves never follow him to the set. "You do your neuroses beforehand, so when they yell 'Action' you can be present," he says.

Okay, there was one on-set panic attack—while Evans was shooting Puncture. "We were getting ready to do a court scene in front of a bunch of people, and I don't know what happened," he says. "It's just your brain playing games with you. 'Hey, you know how we sometimes freak out? What if we did it right now?'"

One of the people who advised Evans to take the Captain America role was his eventual Avengers costar Robert Downey Jr. "I'd seen him around," Downey says. "We share an agent. I like to spend a lot of my free time talking to my agent about his other clients—I just had a feeling about him."

What he told Evans was: This puppy is going to be big, and when it is you're going to get to make the movies you want to make. "In the marathon obstacle course of a career," Downey says, "it's just good to have all the stats on paper for why you're not only a team player but also why it makes sense to support you in the projects you want to do—because you've made so much damned money for the studio."

There's also the fact that Evans had a chance to sign on for something likely to be a kind of watershed moment in the comic-book fascination of our time. "I do think The Avengers is the crescendo of this superhero phase in entertainment—except of course for Iron Man 3," Downey says. "It'll take a lot of innovation to keep it alive after this."

Captain America is the only person left who was truly close to Howard Stark, father of Tony Stark (a.k.a. Iron Man), which meant that Evans' and Downey's story lines are closely linked, and in the course of doing a lot of scenes together, they got to be pals. Downey diagnoses his friend with what he terms "low-grade red-carpet anxiety disorder."

"He just hates the game-show aspect of doing PR," Downey says. "Obviously there's pressure for anyone in this transition he's in. But he will easily triple that pressure to make sure he's not being lazy. That's why I respect the guy. I wouldn't necessarily want to be in his skin. But his motives are pure. He just needs to drink some red-carpet chamomile."

"The majority of the world is empty space," Chris Evans says, watching me as if my brain might explode on hearing this news—or like he might have to fight me if I try to contradict him. We're back at his apartment after a cigarette run through the Combat Zone.

"Empty space!" he says again, slapping the table and sort of yelling. Then, in a slow, breathy whisper, he repeats: "Empty space, empty space. All that we see in the world, the life, the animals, plants, people, it's all empty space. That's amazing!" He slaps the table again. "You want another beer? Gotta be Bud Light. Get dirty—you're in Boston. Okay, organize your thoughts. I gotta take a piss . . ."

My thoughts are this: That this guy who is hugging his dog and talking to me about space and mortality and the trouble with Boston girls who believe crazy gossip about him—this is not the guy I expected to meet. I figured he'd be a meatball. Though, truthfully, I'd never called anyone a meatball until Evans turned me on to the put-down. As in: "My sister Shanna dates meatballs." And, more to the point: "When I do interviews, I'd rather just be the beer-drinking dude from Boston and not get into the complex shit, because I don't want every meatball saying, 'So hey, whaddyathink about Buddhism?'"

At 17, Evans came across a copy of Hermann Hesse's Siddhartha and began his spiritual questing. It's a path of study and struggle that, he says, defines his true purpose in life. "I love acting. It's my playground, it lets me explore. But my happiness in this world, my level of peace, is never going to be dictated by acting," he says. "My goal in life is to detach from the egoic mind. Do you know anything about Eastern philosophy?"

I sip some Bud Light and shake my head sheepishly. "They talk about the egoic mind, the part of you that's self-aware, the watcher, the person you think is driving this machine," he says. "And that separation from self and mind is the root of suffering. There are ways of retraining the way you think. This isn't really supported in Western society, which is focused on 'Go get it, earn it, win it, marry it.'"

Scarlett Johansson says that one of the things she appreciates about Evans is how he steers clear of industry chat when they see each other. "Basically every actor," she says, "including myself, when we finish a job we're like, 'Well, that's it for me. Had a good run. Put me out to pasture.' But Chris doesn't strike me as someone who frets about the next job." The two met on the set of The Perfect Score when they were teenagers and have stayed close; The Avengers is their third movie together. "He has this obviously masculine presence—a dude's dude—and we're used to seeing him play heroic characters," Johansson says, "but he's also surprisingly sensitive. He has close female friends, and you can talk to him about anything. Plus there's that secret song-and-dance, jazz-hands side of Chris. I feel like he grew up with the Partridge Family. He'd be just as happy doing Guys and Dolls as he would Captain America 2."

East needs to do his business, so Evans and I take him up to the roof deck. Evans bought this apartment in 2010 when living in L.A. full-time no longer appealed to him. He came back to stay close to his extended family and the intimate circle of Boston pals he's maintained since high school. The move also seems like a pretty clear keep-it-real hedge against the manic ego-stroking distractions of Hollywood.

"I think my daytime person is different than my nighttime person," Evans says. "With my high-school buddies, we drink beer and talk sports and it's great. The kids in my Buddhism class in L.A., they're wildly intelligent, and I love being around them, but they're not talking about the Celtics. And that's part of me. It's a strange dichotomy. I don't mind being a certain way with some people and having this other piece of me that's just for me."

I asked Downey about Evans' outward regular-Joe persona. "It's complete horseshit," Downey says. "There's an inherent street-smart intelligence there. I don't think he tries to hide it. But he's much more evolved and much more culturally aware than he lets on."

Perhaps the meatball and the meditation can coexist. We argue about our egoic brains and the tao of Boston girls. "I love wet hair and sweatpants," he says in their defense. "I like sneakers and ponytails. I like girls who aren't so la-di-da. L.A. is so la-di-da. I like Boston girls who shit on me. Not literally. Girls who give me a hard time, bust my chops a little."

The chief buster of Evans' chops is, of course, Evans himself. "The problem is, the brain I'm using to dissect this world is a brain formed by it," he says. "We're born into confusion, and we get the blessing of letting go of it." Then he adds: "I think this shit by day. And then night comes and it's like, 'Fuck it, let's drink.'"

And so we do. It's getting late. Again. We should have eaten dinner, but Evans sometimes forgets to eat: "If I could just take a pill to make me full forever, I wouldn't think twice."

We talk about his dog and camping with his dog and why he loves being alone more than almost anything except maybe not being alone. "I swear to God, if you saw me when I am by myself in the woods, I'm a lunatic," he says. "I sing, I dance. I do crazy shit."

Evans' unflagging, all-encompassing enthusiasm is impressive, itself a kind of social intelligence. "If you want to have a good conversation with him, don't talk about the fact that he's famous" was the advice I got from Mark Kassen, who codirected Puncture. "He's a blast, a guy who can hang. For quite a long time. Many hours in a row."

I've stopped looking at the clock. We've stopped talking philosophy and moved into more emotional territory. He asks questions about my 9-month-old son, and then Captain America gets teary when I talk about the wonder of his birth. "I weep at everything," he says. "I emote. I love things so much—I just never want to dilute that."

He talks about how close he feels to his family, how open they all are with each other. About everything. All the time. "The first time I had sex," he says, "I raced home and was like, 'Mom, I just had sex! Where's the clit?'"

Wait, I ask—did she ever tell you?

"Still don't know where it is, man," he says, then breaks into a smile composed of equal parts shit-eating grin and inner peace. "I just don't know. Make some movies, you don't have to know…"

Here is the 2012 Detail Magazine interview with chris evans:

The Avengers' Chris Evans: Just Your Average Beer-Swilling, Babe-Loving Buddhist

The 30-year-old Bud Light-chugging, Beantown-bred star of The Avengers is widely perceived as the ultimate guy's guy. But beneath the bro persona lies a serious student of Buddhism, an unrepentant song-and-dance man, and a guy who talks to his mom about sex. And farts.

By Adam Sachs,

Photographs by Norman Jean Roy

May 2012 Issue

"Should we just kill him and bury his body?" Chris Evans is stage whispering into the impassive blinking light of my digital recorder.

"Chris!" shouts his mother, her tone a familiar-to-anyone-with-a-mother mix of coddling and concern. "Don't say that! What if something happened?"

We're at Evans' apartment, an expansive but not overly tricked-out bachelor-pad-ish loft in a semi-industrial nowheresville part of Boston, hard by Chinatown, near an area sometimes called the Combat Zone. Evans has a fuzzy, floppy, slept-in-his-clothes aspect that'd be nearly unrecognizable if you knew him only by the upright, spit-polished bearing of the onscreen hero. His dog, East, a sweet and slobbery American bulldog, is spread out on a couch in front of the TV. The shelves of his fridge are neatly stacked with much of the world's supply of Bud Light in cans and little else.

On the counter sit a few buckets of muscle-making whey-protein powder that belong to Evans' roommate, Zach Jarvis, an old pal who sometimes tags along on set as a paid "assistant" and a personal trainer who bulked Evans up for his role as the super-ripped patriot in last summer's blockbuster Captain America: The First Avenger. A giant clock on the exposed-brick wall says it's early evening, but Evans operates on his own sense of time. Between gigs, his schedule's all his, which usually translates into long stretches of alone time during the day and longer social nights for the 30-year-old.

"I could just make this . . . disappear," says Josh Peck, another old pal and occasional on-set assistant, in a deadpan mumble, poking at the voice recorder I'd left on the table while I was in the bathroom.

Evans' mom, Lisa, now speaks directly into the microphone: "Don't listen to them—I'm trying to get them not to say these things!"

But not saying things isn't in the Evans DNA. They're an infectiously gregarious clan. Irish-Italians, proud Bostoners, close-knit, and innately theatrical. "We all act, we sing," Evans says. "It was like the fucking von Trapps." Mom was a dancer and now runs a children's theater. First-born Carly directed the family puppet shows and studied theater at NYU. Younger brother Scott has parts on One Life to Live and Law & Order under his belt and lives in Los Angeles full-time—something Evans stopped doing several years back. Rounding out the circle are baby sister Shanna and a pair of "strays" the family brought into their Sudbury, Massachusetts, home: Josh, who went from mowing the lawn to moving in when his folks relocated during his senior year in high school; and Demery, who was Evans' roommate until recently.

"Our house was like a hotel," Evans says. "It was a loony-tunes household. If you got arrested in high school, everyone knew: 'Call Mrs. Evans, she'll bail you out.'"

Growing up, they had a special floor put in the basement where all the kids practiced tap-dancing. The party-ready rec room also had a Ping-Pong table and a separate entrance. This was the house kids in the neighborhood wanted to hang at, and this was the kind of family you wanted to be adopted by. Spend an afternoon listening to them dish old dirt and talk over each other and it's easy to see why. Now they're worried they've said too much, laid bare the tender soul of the actor behind the star-spangled superhero outfit, so there's talk of offing the interviewer. I can hear all this from the bathroom, which, of course, is the point of a good stage whisper.

To be sure, no one's said too much, and the more you're brought into the embrace of this boisterous, funny, shit-slinging, demonstrably loving extended family, the more likable and enviable the whole dynamic is.

Sample exchange from today's lunch of baked ziti at a family-style Italian restaurant:

Mom: When he was a kid, he asked me, 'Mom, will I ever think farting isn't funny?'

Chris: You're throwing me under the bus, Ma! Thank you.

Mom: Well, if a dog farts you still find it funny.

Then, back at the apartment, where Mrs. Evans tries to give me good-natured dirt on her son without freaking him out:

Mom: You always tell me when you think a girl is attractive. You'll call me up so excited. Is that okay to say?

Chris: Nothing wrong with that.

Mom: And can I say all the girls you've brought to the house have been very sweet and wonderful? Of course, those are the ones that make it to the house. It's been a long time, hasn't it?

Chris: Looooong time.

Mom: The last one at our house? Was it six years ago?

Chris: No names, Ma!

Mom: But she knocked it out of the park.

Chris: She got drunk and puked at Auntie Pam's house! And she puked on the way home and she puked at our place.

Mom: And that's when I fell in love with her. Because she was real.

We're operating under a no-names rule, so I'm not asking if it's Jessica Biel who made this memorable first impression. She and Evans were serious for a couple of years. But I don't want to picture lovely Jessica Biel getting sick at Auntie Pam's or in the car or, really, anywhere.

East the bulldog ambles over to the table, begging for food.

"That dog is the love of his life," Mrs. Evans says. "Which tells me he'll be an unbelievable parent, but I don't want him to get married right now." She turns to Chris. "The way you are, I just don't think you're ready."

Some other things I learn about Evans from his mom: He hates going to the gym; he was so wound-up as a kid she'd let him stand during dinner, his legs shaking like caged greyhounds; he suffered weekly "Sunday-night meltdowns" over schoolwork and the angst of the sensitive middle-schooler; after she and his father split and he was making money from acting, he bought her the Sudbury family homestead rather than let her leave it.

Eventually his mom and Josh depart, and Evans and I go to work depleting his stash of Bud Light. It feels like we drink Bud Light and talk for days, because we basically do. I arrived early Friday evening; it's Saturday night now and it'll be sunup Sunday before I sleeplessly make my way to catch a train back to New York City. Somewhere in between we slip free of the gravitational pull of the bachelor pad and there's bottle service at a club and a long walk with entourage in tow back to Evans' apartment, where there is some earnest-yet-surreal group singing, piano playing, and chitchat. Evans is fun to talk to, partly because he's an open, self-mocking guy with an explosive laugh and no apparent need to sleep, and partly because when you cut just below the surface, it's clear he's not quite the dude's dude he sometimes plays onscreen and in TV appearances.

From a distance, Chris Evans the movie star seems a predictable, nearly inevitable piece of successful Hollywood packaging come to market. There's his major-release debut as the dorkily unaware jock Jake in the guilty pleasure Not Another Teen Movie (in one memorable scene, Evans has whipped cream on his chest and a banana up his ass). The female-friendly hunk appeal—his character in The Nanny Diaries is named simply Harvard Hottie—is balanced by a kind of casual-Friday, I'm-from-Boston regular-dudeness. Following the siren song of comic-book cash, he was the Human Torch in two Fantastic Four films. As with scrawny Steve Rogers, the Captain America suit beefed up his stature as a formidable screen presence, a bankable leading man, all of which leads us to The Avengers, this season's megabudget, megawatt ensemble in which he stars alongside Scarlett Johansson, Mark Ruffalo, Robert Downey Jr., and Chris Hemsworth.

It all feels inevitable—and yet it nearly didn't happen. Evans repeatedly turned down the Captain America role, fearing he'd be locked into what was originally a nine-picture deal. He was shooting Puncture, about a drug-addicted lawyer, at the time. Most actors doing small-budget legal dramas would jump at the chance to play the lead in a Marvel franchise, but Evans saw a decade of his life flash before his eyes.

What he remembers thinking is this: "What if the movie comes out and it's a success and I just reject all of this? What if I want to move to the fucking woods?"

By "the woods," he doesn't mean a quiet life away from the spotlight, some general metaphorical life escape route. He means the actual woods. "For a long time all I wanted for Christmas were books about outdoor survival," he says. "I was convinced that I was going to move to the woods. I camped a lot, I took classes. At 18, I told myself if I don't live in the woods by the time I'm 25, I have failed."

Evans has described his hesitation at signing on for Captain America. Usually he talks about the time commitment, the loss of what remained of his relative anonymity. On the junkets for the movie, he was open about needing therapy after the studio reduced the deal to six movies and he took the leap. What he doesn't usually mention is that he was racked with anxiety before the job came up.

"I get very nervous," Evans explains. "I shit the bed if I have to present something on stage or if I'm doing press. Because it's just you." He's been known to walk out of press conferences, to freeze up and go silent during the kind of relaxed-yet-high-stakes meetings an actor of his stature is expected to attend: "Do you know how badly I audition? Fifty percent of the time I have to walk out of the room. I'm naturally very pale, so I turn red and sweat. And I have to literally walk out. Sometimes mid-audition. You start having these conversations in your brain. 'Chris, don't do this. Chris, take it easy. You're just sitting in a room with a person saying some words, this isn't life. And you're letting this affect you? Shame on you.'"

Shades of "Sunday-night meltdowns." Luckily the nerves never follow him to the set. "You do your neuroses beforehand, so when they yell 'Action' you can be present," he says.

Okay, there was one on-set panic attack—while Evans was shooting Puncture. "We were getting ready to do a court scene in front of a bunch of people, and I don't know what happened," he says. "It's just your brain playing games with you. 'Hey, you know how we sometimes freak out? What if we did it right now?'"

One of the people who advised Evans to take the Captain America role was his eventual Avengers costar Robert Downey Jr. "I'd seen him around," Downey says. "We share an agent. I like to spend a lot of my free time talking to my agent about his other clients—I just had a feeling about him."

What he told Evans was: This puppy is going to be big, and when it is you're going to get to make the movies you want to make. "In the marathon obstacle course of a career," Downey says, "it's just good to have all the stats on paper for why you're not only a team player but also why it makes sense to support you in the projects you want to do—because you've made so much damned money for the studio."

There's also the fact that Evans had a chance to sign on for something likely to be a kind of watershed moment in the comic-book fascination of our time. "I do think The Avengers is the crescendo of this superhero phase in entertainment—except of course for Iron Man 3," Downey says. "It'll take a lot of innovation to keep it alive after this."

Captain America is the only person left who was truly close to Howard Stark, father of Tony Stark (a.k.a. Iron Man), which meant that Evans' and Downey's story lines are closely linked, and in the course of doing a lot of scenes together, they got to be pals. Downey diagnoses his friend with what he terms "low-grade red-carpet anxiety disorder."

"He just hates the game-show aspect of doing PR," Downey says. "Obviously there's pressure for anyone in this transition he's in. But he will easily triple that pressure to make sure he's not being lazy. That's why I respect the guy. I wouldn't necessarily want to be in his skin. But his motives are pure. He just needs to drink some red-carpet chamomile."

"The majority of the world is empty space," Chris Evans says, watching me as if my brain might explode on hearing this news—or like he might have to fight me if I try to contradict him. We're back at his apartment after a cigarette run through the Combat Zone.

"Empty space!" he says again, slapping the table and sort of yelling. Then, in a slow, breathy whisper, he repeats: "Empty space, empty space. All that we see in the world, the life, the animals, plants, people, it's all empty space. That's amazing!" He slaps the table again. "You want another beer? Gotta be Bud Light. Get dirty—you're in Boston. Okay, organize your thoughts. I gotta take a piss . . ."

My thoughts are this: That this guy who is hugging his dog and talking to me about space and mortality and the trouble with Boston girls who believe crazy gossip about him—this is not the guy I expected to meet. I figured he'd be a meatball. Though, truthfully, I'd never called anyone a meatball until Evans turned me on to the put-down. As in: "My sister Shanna dates meatballs." And, more to the point: "When I do interviews, I'd rather just be the beer-drinking dude from Boston and not get into the complex shit, because I don't want every meatball saying, 'So hey, whaddyathink about Buddhism?'"

At 17, Evans came across a copy of Hermann Hesse's Siddhartha and began his spiritual questing. It's a path of study and struggle that, he says, defines his true purpose in life. "I love acting. It's my playground, it lets me explore. But my happiness in this world, my level of peace, is never going to be dictated by acting," he says. "My goal in life is to detach from the egoic mind. Do you know anything about Eastern philosophy?"

I sip some Bud Light and shake my head sheepishly. "They talk about the egoic mind, the part of you that's self-aware, the watcher, the person you think is driving this machine," he says. "And that separation from self and mind is the root of suffering. There are ways of retraining the way you think. This isn't really supported in Western society, which is focused on 'Go get it, earn it, win it, marry it.'"

Scarlett Johansson says that one of the things she appreciates about Evans is how he steers clear of industry chat when they see each other. "Basically every actor," she says, "including myself, when we finish a job we're like, 'Well, that's it for me. Had a good run. Put me out to pasture.' But Chris doesn't strike me as someone who frets about the next job." The two met on the set of The Perfect Score when they were teenagers and have stayed close; The Avengers is their third movie together. "He has this obviously masculine presence—a dude's dude—and we're used to seeing him play heroic characters," Johansson says, "but he's also surprisingly sensitive. He has close female friends, and you can talk to him about anything. Plus there's that secret song-and-dance, jazz-hands side of Chris. I feel like he grew up with the Partridge Family. He'd be just as happy doing Guys and Dolls as he would Captain America 2."

East needs to do his business, so Evans and I take him up to the roof deck. Evans bought this apartment in 2010 when living in L.A. full-time no longer appealed to him. He came back to stay close to his extended family and the intimate circle of Boston pals he's maintained since high school. The move also seems like a pretty clear keep-it-real hedge against the manic ego-stroking distractions of Hollywood.

"I think my daytime person is different than my nighttime person," Evans says. "With my high-school buddies, we drink beer and talk sports and it's great. The kids in my Buddhism class in L.A., they're wildly intelligent, and I love being around them, but they're not talking about the Celtics. And that's part of me. It's a strange dichotomy. I don't mind being a certain way with some people and having this other piece of me that's just for me."

I asked Downey about Evans' outward regular-Joe persona. "It's complete horseshit," Downey says. "There's an inherent street-smart intelligence there. I don't think he tries to hide it. But he's much more evolved and much more culturally aware than he lets on."

Perhaps the meatball and the meditation can coexist. We argue about our egoic brains and the tao of Boston girls. "I love wet hair and sweatpants," he says in their defense. "I like sneakers and ponytails. I like girls who aren't so la-di-da. L.A. is so la-di-da. I like Boston girls who shit on me. Not literally. Girls who give me a hard time, bust my chops a little."

The chief buster of Evans' chops is, of course, Evans himself. "The problem is, the brain I'm using to dissect this world is a brain formed by it," he says. "We're born into confusion, and we get the blessing of letting go of it." Then he adds: "I think this shit by day. And then night comes and it's like, 'Fuck it, let's drink.'"

And so we do. It's getting late. Again. We should have eaten dinner, but Evans sometimes forgets to eat: "If I could just take a pill to make me full forever, I wouldn't think twice."

We talk about his dog and camping with his dog and why he loves being alone more than almost anything except maybe not being alone. "I swear to God, if you saw me when I am by myself in the woods, I'm a lunatic," he says. "I sing, I dance. I do crazy shit."

Evans' unflagging, all-encompassing enthusiasm is impressive, itself a kind of social intelligence. "If you want to have a good conversation with him, don't talk about the fact that he's famous" was the advice I got from Mark Kassen, who codirected Puncture. "He's a blast, a guy who can hang. For quite a long time. Many hours in a row."

I've stopped looking at the clock. We've stopped talking philosophy and moved into more emotional territory. He asks questions about my 9-month-old son, and then Captain America gets teary when I talk about the wonder of his birth. "I weep at everything," he says. "I emote. I love things so much—I just never want to dilute that."

He talks about how close he feels to his family, how open they all are with each other. About everything. All the time. "The first time I had sex," he says, "I raced home and was like, 'Mom, I just had sex! Where's the clit?'"

Wait, I ask—did she ever tell you?

"Still don't know where it is, man," he says, then breaks into a smile composed of equal parts shit-eating grin and inner peace. "I just don't know. Make some movies, you don't have to know…"

If someone doesn't want to check the link, the anon sent the full interview!

[spectracully]

crash the crush.

pairings : senior student!xiaojun x sophomore student!reader warnings : profanity, underage drinking, mentions of drugs genre : fluff, a bit of crack? highschool!au word count : 4.3k

summary : what are the odds of crashing into your crush during the neighborhood-friendly run and mutual friends party?

You were pissed off when your mum said you need to work your lazy ass off. Well, if it's on the summer break, you'll most likely agree with her. But it's only the weekend, and you've been studying your ass off these days. A lazy weekend is something you earned, but your mum decided to rain on your lazy parade.

With all those groans and deep sighs, you storm off your house wearing your workout gear. Not much, only a windbreaker jacket paired with shorts and running shoes. Popping your airpods on both of your ears to blast some jams, you take some light jogging steps on your neighborhood. It's only 4.30 pm, and kinda windy, why the fuck are you doing this? That's right, because mum literally compared you to your neighbor's daughter, Giselle, who recently won a karate tournament. Now mum won't even shut up how much she wants an active daughter, not the lazy one. Yikes.

Back to the streets by Saweetie & Jhene Aiko plays, and you hear a message notification on your airpods. Still on your light jogs, you glance at the notification.

yeri<3 : yo yeri<3 : wyd

You stop jogging for a while to write your bestfriend back. It's saturday, she's probably asking you to hangout along with the gang. Yeri gets easily bored at home and in constant need of hanging out.

y/n : running  💃 💃 💃 y/n : mum said i need to be giselle

You continue your pace while waiting for her reply. You can see your neighborhood clearly now, seeing the details, since you always go to school in a sleepy state, not really noticing the environment, and also going home from school mostly sleeping in your brother's car.

The notification rings again. It must be Yeri.

yeri<3 : bitch thats a dancing emoji yeri<3 : running in a weather like this? yeri<3 : damn straight u wanna be giselle

You chuckle as you’re about to type the messages once more, the weather is fine, what the hell is she talking about? But then Yeri is still typing. 

yeri<3 : n e ways yeri<3 : party at lucas' 8pm yeri<3 : be there or be fucking square 💀 💀 💀

You sigh. There she goes. No other option than tag along with her, but it's not like you hate it anyway. Lucas' party is always awesome, you and your friends also will get a VIP pass because he's a good friend of yours too, despite the fact that you're not even in the same grade as him, he's one year above you and Yeri.

y/n : weather is nice dont jinx it y/n : fine but pick me up y/n : cuz doyoung won't let me drive his car

You send the messages to Yeri to prove her the weather is fine, and indicates that you agree to go to Lucas' house tonight, it's a great night to probably get wasted after all those tiring run mum decided to toss on you. It's gonna be fun, anyways. But the thing about hanging out with Lucas and his senior friends.. You might've developed a big fat crush with one of Lucas' closest friends, Xiaojun. 

You barely had an interaction with him, though, because he's usually the quiet and calm one in Lucas' closest friends group. Lucas himself is already so fucking loud, not to mention Hendery, the good-looking clown and moodmaker. There's also Jungwoo, the one who looks very calm but actually won't shut up once you talk to him. Mark too, the giggly one with some lame jokes. Well, going to Lucas' party tonight means you can see Xiaojun, probably getting the chances that you'll have some interaction over some boozes or something is also quite high.

After feeling all warmed up, you decide to give yourself a run around the block. Yeri's right, it's a funny weather to run. It's windy, but the more you stay outside, the cloud is getting darker and darker. You also knew that you're not really alone, who's doing this athletic bullshit in this kind of weather, you noticed that a boy is also doing this silly run when you were typing messages to Yeri. Probably just another neighbor's child being scolded by his mum of how Giselle is so athletic that his mum also wants an active son? Welp, you didn't see his face anyway, you were glued to the phone when you saw the figure running from the side.

It's not even a minute after you started running, Yeri already replied again. Is she really that bored that she doesn't have anything to do?

yeri<3 : ok i'll pick u up at 7 yeri<3 : um.. its fucking raining, y/n yeri<3 : go home and take a shower yeri<3 : pick ur clothes and put on some makeup instead yeri<3 : its saturday night, activate your hoe protocol yeri<3 : mr xiaojun is going to be there tonight

You stop running and stare at her messages. Raining? Is she drunk or what? It's not even 5pm yet and here she is, hallucinating-

Oop. There it goes. You feel some water drops on your head. Your hand. It was slow at first, but then the raindrops are getting harder and harder, it's pouring. 

"Motherfu-" you let out a curse, you should've trusted Yeri on this. As an intuitive homo sapiens with XX chromosomes, you scan through the streets, looking for some shelter to wait the rain to stop. Spotting a bus stop with a large steel canopy, you run like your life depended on it, avoiding the rain.

Finally arriving, you sigh and sit on the installed chair, typing messages to Yeri.

y/n : omg bitch ur right its raining y/n : should've pretended im dead in my room so mum wont bug me y/n : u know what after the rain ends im gonna sprint back home and take a fucking shower y/n : the universe doesnt like it when im trying to be giselle, it gave me rain instead

You sigh as you shuffle through your playlist, looking for some fun jams to pass your time through the rain, when somebody suddenly approaches you.

"Hi, do you mind if I take a seat here?" a boy asks, pointing to the chair next to you. You look up, and suddenly the next thing you wanna do is ascend your soul the fuck out of your body to the sky. 

Oh boy. It's Xiaojun. The boy you won't shut up about. He’s wearing a white loose tank and grey sweatpants, drenched in his own sweat. Oh god. This is truly an attack for you. What the fuck is he doing here? And why must you meet him at your mess like being all salty because of those running fiasco and the rain? While wearing your not-so-fashionable workout gear and not-so-tidy ponytails? Oh god.

You can feel your heart is about to explode when you realize that he is actually the person who is also doing the stupid running at this very weather, you just didn't notice it sooner because you were on your damn phone. Damn, mum was right, everything happened because you were always on your damn phone.

"No, of course! Take a seat!" you answer him, trying your best to crack your sweetest smile although it's more like sweatiest not sweetest.

He smiles back at you, taking a seat next to you, then his eyes get back to his phone, completely glued. Damn this is the only cardio that is worth it, no running, no jumping, no huff that huff this, only sitting next to Xiaojun on a rainy day on a bus stop. Wonderful.

You quickly whip up the messaging app to type all kinds of gibberish and send it to Yeri. She knows what shit is about to go down when you speak gibberish to her.

y/n : FUCKJSHSJJSKSJK YERI y/n : OH MY FUCKING GOD SJSGSJSHSKJSK

Lucky you, Yeri has nothing to do than respond to your messages, she stays put on the chat room.

yeri<3 : OMG BITCH WHAT yeri<3 : SKSHSJJSKS YOU SCARED ME

y/n : HE's FUCKING HERE AHSJSHSJEK

yeri<3 : OMG WHOS HE?? yeri<3 : THE DEVIL??? IS HE GONNA TAKE UR SOUL? SKEJSJKSKSK

y/n : XIAOJUN y/n : TURNS OUT HE ALSO LIVES IN THIS NEIGHBORHOOD

yeri<3 : ASKJSJSKSK WHAT yeri<3 : HOW

y/n : KAHSKSJKS omg bitch y/n : i was sheltering myself from the goddamn rain y/n : im in bus stop rn y/n : this angel came to accompany me y/n : HE WAS RUNNING TOO OMG y/n : omg yeri just so u know if im not there when u pick me up y/n : its bc im in church getting married with my man xiaojun

yeri<3 : BITCH OMG SKSKSKSKK yeri<3 : GET MARRIED RN yeri<3 : WAIT dont waste the chance yeri<3 : talk to him rn!!!

You swear you're about to scream when Yeri sends that. She was actually right, this is your chance to talk to him, considering that you didn't really interact that much with him. But really? He didn't even say a word when he sat, probably didn't even remember your name? The disappointment slowly gets into your head.

You freeze on the spot. torn between wanting to talk to him and just let it slide, you'll see him again tonight as Lucas' house, right?

Just when you decide to give up and not say a word, he turns his head to you.

"Hey, I didn't know you live in this neighborhood too," he starts.

Oh god. If every time your heart beats fast you get a dollar, you'd probably have your own private island by now.

You try to play it cool when actually on the inside you wanna scream I LIKE YOU to his face rn. "Oh? Oh yes, my house is number 13." you answer calmly,

He cracks a smile, “13? You’re Doyoung’s little sister?”

Oh god. What the fuck is this clownery? He knows Doyoung? Why and how? At this rate you just wanna evaporate to the rain, what if Doyoung actually knows that you liked Xiaojun and he spills it? Oh god. 

You smile back at him, holding the panic you’ve been keeping since he mentioned Doyoung’s name. “Yep. I’m his sister.”

“Oh god, why didn’t I notice that earlier? I could’ve taken care of you at school!” he exclaims, and you sure you just wanna evaporate to the rain. Him? Taking care of you at school? YES PLEASE!

You let out a small giggle, trying to be as calm as possible when in reality you’re very sure you just wanna melt like a goddamn popsicle on a hot summer day. “So, how do you know my brother, actually?”

He laughs a bit, wiping away the sweat on his forehead. Oh god, he’s just so beautiful. “Well.. Doyoung and I used to be a dynamic duo in the school's choir, until he graduated.”

Oh, that. Doyoung is pretty serious about his career in the school’s choir, but you did not expect that Xiaojun is actually a part of it. Of course, he has the face of an angel, the voice is included.

“Now I know why Doyoung never let me come to his house. Turns out he has a cute- I mean, h-he has a sister, and that’s you! M-Maybe he’s afraid I’ll bother you or s-something.” he continues, stuttering a bit, and letting out an awkward laugh. You laugh again, feeling the blood rushing to your cheeks that you can’t hide no more. DID HE JUST SAY DOYOUNG HAS A CUTE SISTER? DID HE JUST SAY YOU’RE CUTE? DID HE-

But then, good things always come to an end. The goddamn rain stops. Oh fuck, no more chitter chatter with the dear crush. Just when it is the fucking time you need to hear the goddamn wedding bells, the rain decided to stop on your rain parade. Fuck.

He looks up, and seems like noticing the rain has stopped. “Well, Y/n. Lucas is having a party tonight, are you coming?”

You can feel your cheeks are still heating from his words, you shyly nod to him. Welp, maybe the rain has stopped, but this stupid crush? No. It goes on. Very much.

He stands up, straightening his white loose tank, getting ready to probably sprint back home. “Okay. See you tonight then, I’m going home. Have a good run!” he says as he walks away from the bus stop, leaving you dumbfounded. And lovestruck. That’s a win, alright.

Xiaojun slowly fades away from your view, and you’re still drowning on your pool of love. Yep, that’s it. You can’t even hold it, you quickly dial Yeri’s number to break out the news.

“What is it, Y/n? You literally left me on read for like 14 minutes straight and now you-”

“YERI LISTEN I’M GETTING MARRIED TONIGHT AND THAT’S A FUCKING FACT!” you shout to the phone, you can picture Yeri is probably goggling out her eyes right now.

“Girl, just because Xiaojun just asked you why the fuck were you running at times like this it doesn’t mean-”

“HE CALLED ME CUTE!” you blurted out,cutting her sentences for the second time,

“-you’re getting married- WHAT?? HE CALLED YOU WHAT?” Yeri yelled from the phone, now it’s pretty clear that Yeri is probably jumping her ass off right now.

You sprint your way to home, while holding your phone to your ears, continuing to give Yeri the details about the bus stop conversation you had earlier. Now she’s just yelling at you to pick the right dress and pamper yourself up, the probability you’ll marry Xiaojun at Lucas’ party is increasing. Sure it does.

-------

It’s 11.28 PM, 3 hours and a half since you and Yeri just arrived at Lucas’ house, escaping from Doyoung’s warning to you, to get back in one piece, and most importantly, sober. As if you’re gonna leave Lucas’ house sober, that’s funny, alright. You and Yeri were greeted by Yangyang and Donghyuck, who are currently setting up the table for snacks and drinks. That was probably the first time you saw Donghyuck ever setting up something, because if not, Jungwoo would’ve set his ass on fire.

The party madness has started, seems like everybody already has enough alcohol running on their system. Lucas is already losing his shirt and starts twerking in the middle of his house along with Jaemin and Jungwoo. Ah yes, the thot trio already started their thing, and all you have to do is just stay back and avoid getting dragged to the dance mess, because the chance of Jungwoo and Jaemin will start grinding at you is kinda high right now.. Considering their.. Twerking fiasco.

You sit back on the couch and watch your friends getting crazy over the playlist Yangyang made just for this event, sipping on your cocktails that Donghyuck put god-knows-what in it, he said it’s just cherry juice mixed with gin and brandy, but somehow it tastes kinda citrusy. You glance to the right, only to see Yeri making out with some random guy (probably one of Lucas’ friends named Changbin but oh well, that’s Yeri’s business).

Slightly grossed out and sad because apparently you’re not making out with Xiaojun right now, you make your way to the patio, and find the crowd that circle around a spinning bottle. Interested, you join Jeno, Mark, Renjun, Yeji, Hyunjin, Sungchan, Karina, Vernon, Hendery, and of course, the (hottest) most important person right now, Xiaojun.

“Welcome! As a newly joined member.. Truth or dare?” Jeno greets you as you take a seat between Mark and Sungchan. Well, you’d love to sit beside Xiaojun, but apparently, that seat is already taken by Hendery and Vernon.

You silently glance at Xiaojun, who is wearing a denim jacket with light-yellow knit top underneath, paired with white trousers. Damn, he looks so damn good that you wanna cry a river.

Your head comes back to the question Jeno asked. Today’s your day, be bold or bald. It’s time. “Well, I’m not gonna put my drunk antics to waste. Dare then.” you answer boldly, earning a few ‘ooooh’s from your friends.

Jeno snickers. Well, fuck. Guess you’re a bit too damn bold tonight, the realization suddenly hits you like a fucking trainwreck, Jeno is kinda extreme for games like this. Wrong choice, y/n. You gulp as you wait for Jeno to come up with something.

“I dare you to kiss Xiaojun!” Jeno exclaims, clapping both of his hands like a goddamn happy seal. Mark and Hendery are high-fiving right now, throwing whistles around Xiaojun, who is silent as a fucking rock.

Oh god. Things you’ve said about not putting your drunk antics to waste should’ve stayed in that goddamn draft. This is where Jeno takes you, even though you’re secretly happy that you finally get to kiss your goddamn crush, that shit is EMBARRASSING. If you wanna evaporate to the waters, then it’s probably the right time to do it.

But why Xiaojun though? Is your big fat crush on him too obvious?

You freeze on the spot as you awkwardly smile and stare at Jeno. This shit can’t be real. Jeno is goddamn crazy. You can feel the air is getting hot, whether it’s because the alcohol starts kicking in, or just because the blood is rushing through your head.

“Scared, aren’t you?” Jeno taunts you, sipping his beer as the rest of the group laugh except you and Xiaojun, who is currently staring at you with a questionable expression. Is he pleased? Or is he pissed? Oh god.

“I-I’m not!” you answer him, leaning to Xiaojun, gulping once more before asking him, “You’re okay with this though?”

Xiaojun smirks, “How can I say no to you?” he asks back, accompanied by a few ‘ayyy~’ from the boys, sending butterflies to your stomach. Your face is probably as red as a tomato by now.

Good god. Is this the same Xiaojun who is quiet, calm, and collected among his friends? Why suddenly he is so bold? Oh, he’s probably just drunk and won’t remember this kiss anyway.. You lean closer to him, closing the gap between his face and yours by sealing the kiss. His lips are soft yet firm, almost like a grape jelly you had earlier this afternoon, with a hint of vodka, of course.

After a few seconds, you finally pull out and linger your eyes on him. It’s beautiful, and mesmerizing. You just wish that you can see it again, and only for you, no one else. As you get back to your seat, you take one more last glance at him, that is currently also glancing at you, with his cheeks red.

Okay. You definitely heard the wedding bells, thanks Jeno. That’s probably one of your dreams, and thanks to Jeno, it came true. But unfortunately, Xiaojun probably won’t feel the same, or worse, he’ll probably forget about it tomorrow.

Everyone claps, exchanging happy exclaims and cheers as if you just said ‘I do’ to Xiaojun lol, when in reality, you were just doing the dare Jeno gave you. You gulp bitterly as the game goes on and on.

-----

It’s an hour past midnight, 1.12 AM to be exact. Thank god you’re not that shitfaced, but Yeri is. She is not even capable of doing anything anymore except being all smiley and shit, Changbin already drove her home like fifteen minutes ago, leaving you behind in Lucas’ lair. You suddenly felt the urge to thank god that Yeri made a fantastic decision last minute before picking you up, she used a taxi instead of driving. If she hadn’t, you’re probably stuck driving her home right now.

You scan through the house while leaning through the stair railings, looking for an easy target to get a free ride. Finally spotted your friends, you now have 3 choices : Donghyuck (who is currently seducing some random girl), Yangyang (who is now playing mobile games with Jaemin and Chenle), or Mark (who recently just hit a goddamn blunt, but he’s very capable to drive).

You sip your glass of water, making up your mind for your ride home. But then, suddenly someone taps on your shoulder.

“Do you wanna go home? Like, right now? I can drive you- I mean, our house is like, near.” you hear Xiaojun speaking to you, holding his car keys on his left hand.

Good gracious, is this even real? Like, Xiaojun, is actually asking you to go home with him? Is this real? Or are you just hallucinating from the goddamn weed you take 10 minutes ago from Lucas?

You stare at him blankly. He bit his lip, “I mean- If you wanna stay longer- or probably-”

“Yes, of course! Let’s go.” you smile at him, cutting off his words.

3 times in a day. Good job, Y/n! The wedding is up ahead!

He smiles and gives you a gesture, “Ladies first.”

-

The drive is not as awkward as you thought. Turns out, Xiaojun is full of surprise though, you nearly choked when he said he once formally apologized to Doyoung before he stood up to defend the dignity of Mint Chocolate Chip flavored ice cream. It’s delightful to find out that he has similar tastes as you, from ice cream flavor to music and school subjects.

Xiaojun also told you the reason why he was on the run earlier, he was bored. Damn, look at it, the difference between a forced daughter whose mum wants an active child, and a bored model-student. He said he didn’t expect to see you because he was embarrassed, he was drenched in sweat.

You can feel the butterflies on your stomach grow wilder and wilder from every word he said, or maybe it’s just the way he smiles when he talks to you? Welp, if it’s anything to do with Xiaojun, you’ll most likely get butterflies.

Just when you thought he was drunk, he is not. He’s capable of driving you home and carrying on some fun convos, also remembering little things. So.. perhaps, he is not going to forget the kiss you shared because of Jeno’s dare?

As you keep on exchanging conversation with him, suddenly it’s time to get off his car and get back to your house, get ready to deal with Doyoung’s nags and scolds for getting home this late.

You giggle as you take the seat belt off, smiling at the brown haired boy.

“Thank you for driving me home, Xiaojun. It was fun.” you say to him, waving him goodbye as you open the door. He smiles and waves back at you.

Just when you’re about to open the gate of your house, you hear the sound of slamming car doors. You turn around and see Xiaojun standing in front of you, eyes sparkling like a goddamn star. Unfortunately, it’s not Christmas.. If it is, all you want for Christmas is to stare at Xiaojun’s beautiful eyes all day, and probably get married to him.

“Um.. Y/n.. I don’t know how to say this but.. The kiss you gave me earlier, it’s kinda..” he starts, smiling sheepishly.

Oh god, what now? It’s kinda what? Gross? You swear you’ll kill Jeno if you hear that from Xiaojun.

You gaze at him as you wait for him to complete his sentences.

“It’s kinda.. Making me feel.. Things.” he finally continues, rubbing the back of his neck while looking away from you, flustered. It’s pretty cute.

You giggle at him a little, the butterflies come back, or maybe they never even left?

“Don’t laugh, Y/n. I’m being honest, I was pretty embarrassed to run into you during sheltering, and now you’re laughing at me for-”

You let out a big laugh before you pull him to another kiss. This one is a bit longer, more passionate and intimate, unlike the one you had before. He cups your cheek as you feel him smiling during the kiss.

“I’m sorry if I invaded your privacy- but your fast typing was very.. Intriguing.. I might’ve seen you texting Yeri at the bus stop.” he giggles after you pull out from the kiss.

Yikes. You feel like you’re about to burst now. He saw you texting Yeri? What kind of clownery is this? Did he see you typing- oh god, that’s too embarrassing to remember.

“No! That’s too embarrassing!” you cover your face, he laughs once more.

“Now, which church are we going to? I’m pretty sure you said we’re getting married tonight, right?” he takes your hands off your face, grinning widely.

You pout and lightly hit him, only to be attacked by his hugs a second later. Aww, finally, dreams do come true. You stay on his embrace for a few more minutes, no talking, just comfortable silence and realization that you’re on Xiaojun’s arms right now.

You glance at your watch, Doyoung would be furious by now. Telling him that you really have to go before Doyoung can rise from his sleep and beat your ass, you finally wave goodbye to him as he gets back to his car.

Finally entering the house, you’re greeted by Doyoung who’s standing in front of you, holding a bowl of salad on his right hand.

“So, kissing Xiaojun in front of my salad?” he raises his eyebrow.

You stick out your tongue as you make your way upstairs. Technically, not in front of Doyoung’s salad, because the door was closed. He’s probably looking through the window, such a nosy brother. You laugh at the thought of Doyoung getting furious while eating his salad as you get a message.

Xiaojun : so, see you at school? Xiaojun : can’t wait to hold your hand on monday ;)

[kissinginkitchens]

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Three: Chasing Waterfalls

a/n: Welcome back!! Another huge thank you for the sweet words and love you have shown to part 2! I'm so glad to hear from those of you who are enjoying the story so far :') Things are starting to get interesting, so I hope you'll stay tuned! As always, my inbox is open, so feel free to come chat with me after you have finished reading! Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai'i!Harry x Original Character

Warnings: swearing, drug/alcohol mention

Word Count: 5.3k

catch up on parts one and two

Alani watches the stream of salt descend gracefully into the salt-shaker like a mini waterfall, her mind still replaying the events of the past couple of weeks. It has been fourteen days, 336 hours, and 20,160 minutes since the last time she saw Harry, not that she was counting. The image of him getting smaller in her rearview mirror as she drove away from the recording studio is still fresh in her mind. Two weeks and all she has to show for it is three sentences in her notebook, most of which is material she had already known prior to the interview. Alani supposes that this fact should trouble her more than it does, with her future at Rolling Stone depending on much more than the smoothie preferences of Harry Styles; but all she can dwell on at the moment is the serene image of them standing side by side, pinkies nearly touching, making a wish on the most vibrant rainbow she had ever seen. What does concern her, however, are the events that immediately followed their arrival back at Napua.

“Maybe next time we should do this in a neutral location,” Harry had offered, stepping out of the Range Rover. “Less distractions,”

Alani’s brows shot up at the words, not quite believing that she had heard him right. “Next time?”

“You can’t possibly have gotten everything you needed from that,” he scoffed, leaning against the passenger door. Alani had fully prepared to butter him up in order to extend their time beyond the initial one interview agreement, but she hadn’t expected it to be this easy, especially after his dismissal of her attempted humor and begrudging lunch invitation.

“Well, no, but I thought-”

“Okay, so we’ll do this again,” he shrugged, “No biggie,”

Alani felt a wave of relief, and a twinge of excitement, rush over her at the prospect of securing another interview with Harry. Offering him a grateful smile, she nodded and agreed.

“Yeah, okay. Thank you, again, for agreeing to this,”

Harry’s furrowed brow didn’t budge, nor did his set jaw and pouted lips. He simply offered a small bow of his head and a ringed finger through his dark locks.

“Sure. Wouldn’t wanna be the reason you fail,”

“Thanks,” she replied through a forced laugh.

Alani had almost forgotten about the cover she devised to get Harry to agree to the exclusive. A part of her wondered how willing he would have been to participate had he known her true intentions of submitting the final piece to Rolling Stone, but the better part of her judgement knew there was too much at stake to fold her cards now. Besides, Harry had to have known that any work linked to his name would get some sort of public attention, regardless of the original intentions. At least, that was what Alani planned to say if things went south.

“So you can just... text me, I guess,” she proposed cautiously. “When you’re free?”

“Will do,” Harry nodded. “But I think that requires us to exchange phone numbers first,”

“Right,”

Alani pulled her phone from the back pocket of her shorts and opened the contacts app before holding it out to Harry. Carefully, he punched his digits and handed it back, smirking when he was greeted by the image of irresistible watery eyes and floppy ears beneath the time.

“Cute dog,” he remarked while Alani finished typing her own number into his phone.

A soft smile spread across her lips as the image of her furry companion drifted into her mind.

“Oh, thanks. His name’s Freddie,”

“D’you name all your belongings after 70s rock stars?” Harry teased, flashing a dimpled grin.

“As a matter of fact,” Alani played along. “I’m about to go take a sip from Mick Jagger in my car,”

Immediately, Alani regretted her choice of words, though the bright ringing of Harry’s laughter soothed some of the embarrassment.

She winced, nose scrunched. “I guess there’s no taking that one back, huh?”

“Not a chance,”

Clutching her bag closer and sliding her sunglasses back onto the bridge of her nose, Alani took a step back and sighed.

“And with that, I bid you adieu.”

“Au revoir.”

Two weeks and still radio silence from Harry. Alani had begun to wonder whether she had input her phone number correctly in the first place, or if her penchant for embarrassing herself had ruined all chances of Harry making good on his promises.

“I’m sorry, sir, but if you want salted fries you’re gonna have to wait for your turn at the salt mound, just like everyone else,” the voice of Alani’s sister breaks through her thoughts. Somewhere between reliving her last interaction with Harry and anticipating their impending reunion, Alani’s hand had drifted slightly off course of the salt shaker, resulting in a rather impressive mountain of salt forming on the countertop.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” Alani retorts, annoyed at the mess she’ll have to clean up.

“Seemed like you were in the zone, or possibly sleepwalking—and you know what they say about disturbing sleepwalkers,” Pua says simply, unaffected by her sister’s irritation. “Plus, I thought it would be funny, and I was right,”

Alani sweeps the salt into a garbage can below, her mind already drifting back to her afternoon with Harry, when her sister speaks up again.

“He hasn’t called yet?”

This catches Alani’s attention, but she only shakes her head dejectedly in response.

“I thought your date went well,” Pua muses, thinking back to the way her sister had practically floated through the house upon her return.

“It wasn’t a date,” Alani corrects firmly, perhaps trying to convince herself, as well.

Pua scoffs, lifting herself to sit on the countertop. “So you made me cover a four hour shift for nothing?”

“It’s strictly professional and he’s busy,” Alani sighs. “That’s just how these things go,”

“Did he let you listen to his new music?” the younger sister asks, eyes widening.

Alani rolls her eyes and resumes twisting the caps back onto the filled salt shakers. “No,”

“Did you ask him why he left One Direction?”

“No,”

“Is he single?”

“I don’t know,” Alani huffs, turning to face her smug little sister. “Why don’t you ask him?”

“Ask him what?” a familiar accented voice cuts in behind her.

Alani whips around to face Harry, a familiar dent between his brows and dark sunglasses shielding her from the intensity of his stare.

“Ask my dad if I can go to the..movies—tonight,” Pua chimes in. “With my friends. I have those,”

Harry smirks, lifting his sunglasses up to address her. “S’that so?”

“Yup,” she confirms, popping the “p” and crossing her arms. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Curiosity runs in the family, I see,” he remarks with amusement. “Shoot,”

“Is your phone working?”

“Why don’t you go call dad and ask him about the movies? I’ll cover the register,” Alani interrupts, shooting a glare over her shoulder as her sister saunters into the kitchen with a satisfied grin on her round face.

“Ignore her, she’s fifteen,”

“The most honest age in my experience,” Harry observes with a twinge of guilt settling in the pit of his stomach.

Alani pushes any thoughts about Harry, beyond the fact that he’s standing in front of her, to the side and puts on her best customer service voice. “What can I get started for you today?”

“A green smoothie, please,” he says, searching for her eyes that are occupied with the register buttons. “And the rest of your afternoon, if you’re free,”

Alani pauses and allows her gaze to meet his. She senses a hint of apology behind his emerald eyes, a welcome change to the storminess that often clouds them.

“I don’t know,” she starts slowly, despite the fact that every bone in her body is screaming at her to go. “I gotta finish up here,”

“What time are you off?”

Alani mulls his question over, silently deciding whether to tell the truth or not. Ultimately, retribution for her bruised ego is the only reason she can come up with for lying. She knows that it isn’t logical to be upset with him due to the fact that their relationship is strictly professional. Harry owes her nothing; in fact, him agreeing to meet with her the first time was, as she pointed out on several occasions, entirely a favor on his end. Despite this fact, Alani couldn’t help the disappointment she had felt the very next day when he hadn’t even texted his name to make sure that he had the right number. And she can’t help how she feels now, two weeks later, looking into his big, dumb eyes that are begging for her forgiveness. She missed him. Against her better judgment, and for reasons she can’t explain, Alani misses Harry, so she chooses honesty.

“Four,”

“Great,” he perks up, victoriously. “Then I’ll have the green smoothie, and keep ‘em coming,”

“You’re gonna stay here that long?” Alani asks, eyes darting to the 1:11 displayed on her watch.

Harry holds up a teal paperback with cassette tapes stacked on the cover. “Got some reading material to keep me company,”

“Love is a Mix Tape,” she reads the yellow cursive looped at the bottom of the cover aloud with a nod.

“Ever read it?” he questions, flipping through the pages.

“Can’t say that I have,”

“Well then you can borrow it sometime.” Harry says finally, turning on his heel in the direction of a table near the window.

Alani half expects him to leave and come back closer to their allotted time, but he simply sits near the window with the book in front of him and the straw of his drink resting against his pouted bottom lip. Customers come and go, tables are cleared, and the sunlight spills into different corners of the room, but Harry remains perfectly unchanged as if he were a fixture of the room itself. His presence is both comforting and unnerving to Alani, who glides around the room taking orders and serving food. Meanwhile, Harry does his very best to focus on the words in front of him, but the letters jumble together like alphabet soup amidst his wandering thoughts. Out of the corner of his eye, he follows Alani as she gracefully moves from one table to the next, flashing a warm smile at each guest who enters. He notices the tapping of her pen to whatever Beach Boys song plays over the stereo and the way she bites the inside of her cheek when making change at the register. The more details he stores in his mind, the deeper the sinking feeling burrows into his stomach. It had taken every ounce of willpower and over twenty unsent text messages to stay away, but Harry needed to put space between them for both of their sakes. He didn’t dare flatter himself with the thought of her having feelings for him, but he didn’t mind her company and that hadn’t done him much good these days. Harry knew that eventually he would have to bite the bullet and keep his word, and he decided that a temporary writer’s block was as good a time as any to do so.

“What ever happened to that girl?” Jeff had asked the evening prior, responding to an email from the recording label.

Harry feigned ignorance and continued to doodle something in his notebook, though he knew exactly who his manager was referring to. “What girl?”

“Dark hair, pretty, made you blush like a 12 year old,”

“I did not,'' Harry defended, scribbling a little more harshly. “‘S nothing. Was just helpin’ her out,”

Jeff snorted with an accusational brow raised.

“How romantic,”

“Jesus, not like that!”

“All I’m saying,” Jeff conceded. “Is that you seem a little uptight these days, and the music shows,”

Harry pondered this for a minute, his pen stilling to look over the lyrics, or lack thereof, on the page.

“You should be having a little fun, that’s literally what we came here for,” Jeff continued. “Get out of this fuckin’ studio and be a normal 22 year-old. You deserve it.”

So Harry had decided to go out, telling himself that he was merely listening to a friend’s advice for the sake of his music and sanity. But a part of him also desperately wanted to see Alani, even if he didn’t really know why.

As the clock strikes four, Alani sucks in a deep breath and turns to her sister slicing bananas in the kitchen.

“I’m going out,”

“Figured,” Pua responds, unphased. “I’ll cover for you,”

“I owe you.”

“Get me tickets to his next concert and we’ll call it even.”

Alani rolls her eyes, amused, and presses a chaste kiss to her sister’s temple before grabbing her bag off the hook and heading out. When she emerges in the dining area, Harry is already waiting at the counter with his broad shoulders turned away from her. She taps him gently and feels dizzy when he turns to her with a faint dimpled smile.

“Ready to roll?” he asks.

“Ready.”

When the two are comfortably situated in the Range Rover, Harry scans the parking lot and pulls away onto Mamalahoa Highway.

“Where’s Stevie?” he questions, his lower lip pinched between his index finger and thumb in concentration.

“Oh I walk to the restaurant,” Alani explains. “Don’t live too far,”

“Explains why you ditched your sister,”

“I did not ditch her!” Alani defends with a light laugh.

“Kinda did,”

She shakes her head in mock offense as the corners of Harry’s lips turn up. “My dad will pick her up after work, she’ll be fine,”

“Not to accuse you of nepotism,” he hesitates. “But I thought maybe your dad worked at the café. Family business?”

“He owns it, yeah, but he also works as the head chef at Honu. It’s a resort,” Alani continues. “But I’ll have you know that my waitressing skills are highly qualified, regardless of the nepotism,”

“And your mum?”

“She’s a doctor—pediatric surgeon,”

“That’s amazing,” Harry comments, glancing down at the GPS.

“Yeah, she is,” Alani agrees, her own eyes darting to the screen before attempting to analyze her surroundings. “Hey, where are we going?”

The rings on Harry’s right hand tap gently on the steering wheel as he responds carefully, withholding any hints.

“To the best interview spot I could think of. Go there sometimes to work on the album,”

“So there is an album,” Alani wiggles her brows.

“Off the record,” he clarifies. “But.. potentially,”

She scoffs at his insistence to maintain secrecy.

“Really?”

“We’re almost there.” Harry consoles, referring primarily to their destination, but perhaps speaking personally, as well. Alani doesn’t miss the double meaning and chooses to nod silently in acceptance.

The next few minutes of their drive are filled by humming along to whatever song drifts through the stereo, most notably Paul McCartney and George Harrison, which inspires a lively back and forth about the ranking of ex-Beatles members.

“It goes Paul, George, Ringo, and John,” Alani states matter-of-factly. “There’s no other answer,”

Harry shoots her an incredulous look before responding. “Are you seriously putting Ringo Starr before John Lennon?”

“John Lennon was an abusive asshole,” Alani defends. “Plus he wrote, like, one good song-”

“More than one song—”

“I said a good song. ‘Good’ being the keyword,”

Harry can’t hold back his endearment at her reasoning, so he shakes his head with a wide grin plastered on his face and decides to take one last swing at the hornet’s nest.“He’s still a legend,”

“Isn’t it weird,” Alani muses with a far-away look in her eyes. “That someday, someone’s gonna have this conversation about you?”

Harry doesn’t respond right away, weighing her words and how they settle in his bones. It doesn’t offend him in the slightest, he’s heard far worse, but there is still something strange about comparing himself to musicians he considers to be his icons. Despite all the hard work and sacrifices he’s made over the past five years, he still sees himself as the lucky little kid from Holmes Chapel underneath it all.

“I’m sorry,” Alani speaks up when Harry doesn’t respond. “I didn’t mean—”

“Oh, no it’s okay,” He reassures her. “I was just thinking... ‘bout what you said. I guess I don’t really think about it like that,”

“Oh,” is all she says, still waiting for him to elaborate. After a beat, Harry begins again in his characteristically slow way of speaking that Alani finds charming.

“It’s just that,” he begins, tugging on his lower lip. “Obviously I can’t ignore, you know, the impact that all of it had. But to me it was just… I don’t know. In my head it’s not really on the same level,”

Alani nods, though she can’t say it’s with complete understanding. In this moment, she truly feels the weight of their completely different worlds and how she may never be able to fully sympathize with that part of Harry’s life. She certainly hadn’t been under any impression that she would, but she still feels a bit embarrassed for the closeness she had begun to feel to him in their moments spent together. A sinking feeling settles into Alani’s stomach at the thought that maybe she was making a mistake, despite the constant self-reminders that everything they were doing was completely professional. Don’t get too close, she writes on a mental post-it note, sticking it to the forefront of her mind.

“We’re here,” Harry pipes up.

Too wrapped up in her own thoughts, Alani hadn’t noticed when they pulled into the parking lot at ‘Akaka Falls and it took her a moment to adjust.

“This is the place?” she questions hesitantly.

“Yeah,”

“This is where you come to write?”

“I didn’t realize I was supposed to stay chained to the studio,” Harry teases with his hands raised in mock surrender.

“No,” Alani breathes out a light laugh, rolling her eyes. “I just mean… I don’t know what I expected.”

“That was the point.” he explains with a devious smile that makes her let out a proper laugh.

************

“Did you know,” Alani starts, the tips of her fingers reaching out to stroke the petal of an especially vibrant red flower. “That Georgia O'Keeffe had a show in New York City during the 40s with twenty paintings of different flowers that she observed right in this very park?”

“I didn’t,” Harry admits. “Who needs a tour guide when we’ve got you?”

“I have a copy of the waterfall one she did in my room,” Alani continues. “But I’d love to see the real thing some day,”

Harry scans the landscape, eyes settling over the winding stairs that lead them further to the falls and the rest area where he frequently hides away. “Is it still on display?”

“Last I checked, yes,” she nods. “At the New York Botanical Garden,”

“How are you not even a bit winded?” he chuckles, hands on his hips as he pauses and takes a moment to breathe.

Alani stops in her tracks and turns back to face Harry with a teasing glint already present in her deep brown eyes.

“I thought you came here all the time to write,” she says with a raised brow.

“And I thought it was against the journalist code to berate your subjects,” he shoots back. “But here we are,”

“Touché,” Alani concedes. “But I’m not a journalist yet so I guess the rules don’t apply to me,”

Harry thanks his lucky stars that she turns on her heel back down the steps before she can witness the fond grin tugging at the corners of his lips. He savors the image of the greenery that complements her olive skin and how the gentle breeze dances through her curls before following behind.

Alani takes a deep breath once they reach the lookout and soaks in the familiar view. No matter how many times she visits the national park, the first sight of the 442 feet of cascading water always leaves her eyes a little misty.

“What brings you here?” she asks, turning to Harry whose sunglasses are perched at the crown of his head to leave the view unobstructed.

His jaw clenches and his Adam’s apple bobs, but he doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he turns his head to Alani and searches her face with a crease between his brows.

“That,” he responds, pointing to the glossy sheen over her eyes. “That feeling. Felt it the first time I came here, still do,”

He turns back to face the roaring water before them and Alani takes this moment to study the sharp angles of his profile. She takes note of the sunlight peering through his sea glass irises and waits patiently for him to continue.

“Makes you feel lucky to be alive,” Harry says finally. “And a little small, but in a good way. Like everything bad that ever happened to you doesn’t matter because none of it’s real, is it? But this… this is real,”

Alani feels like the air has been sucked from her chest and her eyes burn a hole straight through Harry’s temple. He doesn’t budge, despite the overwhelming urge to face her again, because he knows that if he does, he’ll lose his nerve.

“Damn,” is all Alani croaks out when she finally catches her breath.

Harry’s stony expression falters as he cracks a small, relenting smile. “D’reckon that’s what TLC were on about when they wrote that song?”

“I think you’re on the right track, yeah,” Alani agrees with a light laugh. “Though I think they were talking a little bit more about drugs, but I like your thing too,”

“Thanks,” Harry smirks. “Now you see why I come here to write,”

“Yeah, I’ll give you that one,” she concedes.

“Speaking of writing,” he starts, walking away from the lookout and over to a rest area with a few tables and benches. “I think we were here to help you write,”

Alani follows and takes a seat on the bench across from him, the setting sun beating against her back and outlining her in golden light that Harry feels couldn’t be more poetic.

She retrieves a notebook, her phone, and a pen from her bag and sprawls them out across the table top. Harry notices that each item is colored a varying shade of pink, but he decides to keep that detail filed at the back of his mind instead of investigating further.

“Same deal as last time, voice notes for quotational accuracy,” Alani reminds him. She looks over her list of questions to pick a starting point, but suddenly none of them seem relevant, so she takes a moment to collect her thoughts and says the first thing that comes to mind.

“Earlier when I said this wasn’t what I was expecting,” she begins. “You said ‘that was the point’. Why?”

Harry turns this question over in his mind, caught off guard by the seemingly trivial detail. “I dunno. I guess.. Maybe I just like the surprise,”

“To be surprised, or to surprise others?”

“Both,”

“Why do you like to surprise others?”

He ponders this for a second and takes a deep breath. “I think it’s because it doesn’t happen that often,”

“What do you mean?” Alani prys.

“Well,” Harry begins carefully, sifting through his brain for the right words. “Ever since the whole band thing blew up, I’ve had this strange feeling that everyone knows everything about me, like there’s nothing left to discover,”

Alani watches as he twirls the ring around his wedding finger, a silver rose that has always caught her eye.

“Maybe that sounds self absorbed,” he simpers.

“It’s not,” Alani reassures him.

Harry meets her eyes appreciatively before resuming. “I still remember the first time someone recognized me,”

“What was that like?”

“Bizarre,” he chuckles to himself. “She was very nice, but the entire time I couldn’t stop thinking about how strange it all was. It’s like, you know when someone you met once or twice comes up to you and you don’t remember their name at all? S’bit awkward ‘cos you feel like you should know something about them, too— level the playing field. ‘Cept no matter how hard you wrack your brain, the information’s never gonna come, even though they know everything about you,”

“But they don’t,” Alani cuts in. “Not really,”

“Yeah,” Harry agrees, his eyes narrowed. “But sometimes they feel like they do, which might be worse,”

Alani taps her pen against her bottom lip and nods, a gentle hum leaving her throat as she registers his words.

“Didn’t think about it like that,”

“S’not so much about the fans,” Harry continues. “Because I feel like there’s lots of things I wanna share with them through the music. It’s… everyone else, I guess,”

“I don’t think it’s abnormal to want your privacy,” Alani comments. “To want to share things on your own terms. It’s human,”

“But isn’t that what it means to be loved?” he asks, chin resting in his palm. “To be known?”

Alani picks up on a glimmer of challenge behind Harry’s eyes, as if he is the one conducting the interview and trying to extract information from her.

“There’s a difference between knowing something about someone,” she argues. “And knowing someone,”

“It’s like Prince,” Harry says suddenly, an excited fire behind his emerald eyes. “Who knows anything about Prince besides the fact that he’s a fuckin’ great musician? I sure as hell don’t, but all you wanna do is know more, and that’s what makes him so magical. It’s mysterious… I like that,”

Alani snorts and looks up from her notes scrawled on the page. “Did you just describe Prince like your manic-pixie dream girl?”

“No,” Harry defends with an amused laugh. “Well, not intentionally anyway,”

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes with a wave of her hand. “No, I know what you mean. It’s like keeping the rock-star persona separate from your real life, makes it all more alluring,”

Harry nods, running a hand through his hair and shaking it out before securing his sunglasses back at the top of his head. “Yeah,”

“But earlier you also said you wanted to share some things with the fans,” Alani begins again, going back to her chicken scratch notes. “What kinds of things were you referring to?”

“Real life stuff,” he offers. “Mostly the not-so-great things. ‘Cos I mean no one wants to hear me sing about going to bars and how great everything is. The champagne popping,”

Harry trails off as his fingers smooth over the cross pendant hanging around his neck.

“I mean, I don’t wanna hear my favorite musicians talk about that, at least. I wanna know ‘how did you feel when you were alone in that hotel room, because you chose to be alone?’”

The wind begins to pick up more noticeably and the pages of Alani’s notebook flutter wildly, threatening to escape. Too wrapped up in their conversation, the pair hadn’t noticed the dwindling tourists or the cumulonimbus clouds hovering above. Harry squints up at the darkening sky and it peers back at him with equal contempt . He springs to his feet, quickly gathering some of Alani’s things for her.

“We gotta go,”

They quickly scurry and the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance quickens their pace up the steps. The adrenaline coursing through Alani’s veins masks the burning in her quads and calves, but Harry’s steady panting gives away his exertion. They’re almost halfway up the long trail of steps when another thunderclap pierces through the sky above them and sends a jolt through their bodies. One speckle of rain hits the pavement in front of Alani’s quick feet, and then another, and another, until the sky opens up and they are caught in the downpour. Alani shrieks and the sound makes Harry belly laugh, a hand instinctively reaching out to the middle of her back to brace her.

“Careful,” He calls out above the deafening rain. “Watch your step!”

Somehow over the sound of the rain and her own heavy breathing, Alani still manages to come up with a witty remark.

“Imagine the headlines!” she shouts over her shoulder. “‘Popstar Lures Innocent Civilian to Her Untimely Demise’,”

Alani doesn’t say anything about his palm still pressed securely against the small of her back, but the warmth of it spreads through her fingers and toes. They continue up the steps, each breathing a sigh of relief when the top is in sight. Harry reaches out for her hand when they make it to the landing, and she accepts it gladly, before they bolt to the parking lot where the lone Range Rover is parked. Once inside, a fit of laughter erupts from the both of them.

“What a cliché,” Harry comments. “Getting caught in the rain,”

Alani sighs. “Too bad we don’t have piña coladas,”

“We could maybe do something about that,” he shrugs.

Alani reaches for her phone and queues up the next song, which brings a cheshire grin to Harry’s face when he hears the familiar drums.

“Wasn’t what I meant, but okay,” he rolls his eyes, turning up the car’s heater before heading back out onto the highway.

“This song’s kinda fucked up when you think about it,” Alani muses, swaying in her seat. “But the chorus is fun,”

“S’all that matters when you’re sloshed,”

“Sorry about your seats, they’re gonna be soaked,” Alani apologizes as her wet socks squelch around in her shoes.

“Don’t worry about it,” he waves the concern away. “Occupational hazard.”

The drive to Alani’s house from ‘Akaka Falls is only 25 minutes and the two of them spend most of the time lost in their own thoughts, letting the car heater soothe their chilly bones. Alani watches the rain droplets race down the window pane and turns over some of Harry’s words in her mind. His comment about the waterfalls sticks out like a shell emerging from the sand. She begins to think that it perfectly captures this time in his life as he searches for something real amidst the chaos of fame. It’s an angle she’s keen to run with once she has the time to sort through her notes and write, but her thoughts also drift towards the waterfalls in her own life that she’s been chasing. Naturally, she thinks about Rolling Stone and what she hopes New York City will bring her. Adventure, she thinks at first, digging deeper when that doesn’t quite suffice. Success, getting warmer. Purpose, bingo. Alani sinks into her seat with a contented sigh.

“Piña coladas,” Harry hums once they’ve pulled up to Alani’s driveway. “Next time, we’re definitely getting piña coladas,”

Alani isn’t as surprised by his suggestion of meeting up for a third time, though it still sends her heartbeat through the roof. She tries not to think too hard about the implications.

“On you,” she teases.

“Of course,”

“Thanks again,” Alani says, turning to face him. “We covered a lot of material today,”

Harry flashes a shy smile in response. “Sorry ‘bout...your clothes. I should’ve checked the weather,”

“Occupational hazard,” she shrugs, mirroring his words from earlier. “So I guess I’ll just see you around then?”

“Yeah,” he swallows, suddenly aware of her proximity. “I mean are we still doing this—the interviews?”

Alani stops smoothing out her damp waves, feeling as if she had overstepped. “If that’s okay. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“No, it’s okay,” Harry reassures her. “I’m available—I mean for your writing I’m—”

He stumbles over his words and Alani eases the slightest bit knowing that he’s nervous, too.

“Just let me know, whenever.” he says finally, regaining his composure.

“Will do.” she nods slowly.

Alani’s eyes dart to Harry’s lips briefly, lingering just long enough that Harry notices, but too quick for him to justify closing the gap. Before he knows it, he’s missed his chance and she’s slipping out of the car, closing the door with a sense of finality that makes his stomach drop.

Alani makes her way up to the house, gravel crunching under her feet and head pounding.

Don’t get too close, she reminds herself. Don’t go chasing waterfalls.

Next Chapter

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Fifty-Nine

Words: 4.4K

Warning(s): Explicit language, minor sexual situations, mentions of drug abuse

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Sharise and I watch as Adriana demonstrates basic pole dancing techniques in the empty strip joint.

Sharise, me, Duff, Steven and Steven's lady friend/dancer, Adriana, all came into Adriana's place of work during closed hours, with the permission of her boss, being that this is the club the "Girls Girls, Girls" video is being filmed in and I decided I'd join Sharise in it.

Of course Sharise and I aren't gonna be doing Cirque du Soleil on a pole in the video, it's just an excuse to get out of the house and good off for a few hours.

"Okay, going upside down." She states. "Stand to whatever side of the pole is most comfortable, and whatever side you stand on, place the opposite foot close to the base of the pole." she tells us. "So, I'm standing to the left of the pole, so my right foot is gonna be near the base of the pole, and my right hand is gonna hold the pole at shoulder height, and you'll want to hold the pole close to you so it's a tighter spin."

"Ooo." Steven comments to add interest, sipping his beer.

"Now, your other hand, will hold the pole higher up, like this." Her left hand holds the pole higher up. "Then you kick the leg that's furthest from the pole, up." Her left leg kicks up. "While acting like you're trying to pull the pole downward." She's upside down in half a second. "Then the leg you kicked up wraps around the front of the pole, and the leg you kept closest to the pole, goes behind. And when you slide down," she slowly starts making her way to the floor, "keep your chin tucked so you don't fall and break your neck." She reaches the floor and is smoothly laid onto her back before she stands up.

"Okay, Viv, you try." Steven nudges at me.

"Yeah, Viv." Sharise echos, smiling at me.

"Oh, dear." I mumble, getting up from my chair, Duff, Steven and Sharise clapping as I get up on stage, standing to the left of the pole.

"Okay, so, right foot." I put it at the base of the pole. "Left foot here, right hand here, left hand here..." I say to myself.

"Now, kick." She tells me and I do so.

Obviously I'm not as graceful, looking like an upside down koala clinging to a tree for dear life, my eyes squeezed closed, a sound between a laugh and a shriek coming out of me.

"Be sexy, Viv." Stevie suggests.

I open my eyes, seeing his right side up figure sitting at the table with Duff and Sharise.

"I don't think I can get down." I admit, my legs keeping on the pole but curling closer and closer into me as my fear of falling on my head grows.

Duff and Steven sarcastically cheer, and I feel the sprinkling of cash fall over me before turning my head to glare at them.

"Here." Adriana helps me down, chuckling at them poking fun at me while Sharise thinks it's pretty funny, too.

"Nice job, babe." Stevie states sarcastically and I raise a brow.

"You get up here and do it, then." I reply and he scoffs.

"Oh, I will." He stands up, sashaying to the stage seductively and I hold back my laughter as Adriana raises her brows. "Okay, get down, lemme have my moment to shine." He nudges Adriana and I off stage and we go to sit at the table with Sharise and Duff.

Steven, the natural performer and entertainer he is, starts completely winging it--giving us a hot but very questionable strip tease.

I wrinkle my nose when he gets his shirt off and starts coming down from the stage, walking towards me.

His incredibly hairy chest grows closer and closer and I already know his motivations before he can get to me.

I try to get out of dodge, but Duff is a traitor and holds at my wrist so I can't get away.

I feel Steven's arms wrap around me, his itchy fur against my back and I squeal as Duff, Sharise and Adriana continue to laugh their asses off.

Nikki could barely get the hair on his chest to grow, and when it finally did, he was proud. I had never seen that much hair until I saw Steven with his shirt off.

He had enough hair on his chest and his stomach to make sweaters...when he was naked (which I discovered tended to happen when he got very drunk) I never looked long enough to try to find his prick in the thick of his pubes.

He's just a hairy, hairy, man.

I'm finally calming down and elbowing Steven, gently, getting him off of me in time to look at him, seeing Nikki leaning against the bar in the corner, looking oh so unamused.

"H-Hey." I say to him, really pushing Stevie away.

I don't want him to face Nikki's wrath incase Sikki decides to make an appearance and say something smart about us having fun together without his supervision.

He had gotten upset with me over staying the night with Duff, and I had finally shut him up with:

"You're angry because you know how you treat me, and you know the day I decide I'm done with your bullshit I can walk away from you and have every reason to do so! And I'll be even more inclined to walk away if there's someone that treats me better, and there is! You know there is and you can't stand the thought of it but you don't want to change, either, so I don't know what to tell you other than I'm here with you and I'm not going anywhere. But I'm getting tired, Nikki. Okay? I'm getting tired."

He didn't have a word to say to that. He just stormed out and slammed the door, and found Vanity.

"Hi!" Vanity's soft but perky voice echoes and I notice she's behind the bar, stealing liquor to hand Nikki a bottle of Jack.

Duff and Steven exchange looks before Steven's letting out a "hi!" in his own enthusiastic way.

She's sliding back across the bar to step to us, hugging me tightly to her.

"How are you?" I ask her, Nikki walking over to us.

"Fine, until Nikki started in on me f--"

"So, what're you guys doing tonight?" Nikki interrupts her and she rolls her eyes.

"Baby, I'm talking." She whines.

"Baby?" I ask and I swear I hear Duff nearly choke on his beer.

"Yeah, 'baby'. Ya know...just a cute little pet name I give some of my friends." She explains.

"Well, can you not call him that?" I ask her politely.

Her brows arch and her smile twitches.

"Sure." She finally lets out and everyone seems to let out a breath of relief, probably imagining the two of us getting into a spat over something so stupid.

"Duff, Steven, I was thinking we meet up with T-Bone tonight. Heather's outta town and he wanted to invite you guys and Slash over." He explains.

"Cool." Steven shrugs, but Duff hesitantly looks at me.

Nikki follows his line of sight and cuts his eyes for a moment.

"The fuck you looking at her for? Do you need her permission or something?" He suddenly snaps and Duff looks at him.

"I can't tonight, man. Thanks though." Duff replies coolly, finishing his beer, standing up.

"Girls, I was actually thinking of a girls night." Vanity tells Sharise and I, pulling our attention away from Nikki scowling at Duff as the tall blonde mumbles walks away, mumbling about going to the restroom.

Me and Sharise exchange looks before we're cautiously testing the waters.

"I can't. I'm gonna be with Sky." Sharise puts in.

"Oh, well, us then." Vanity beams at me.

"Actually, now that I think about it, I think you two can come with Steven and Slash and me to Tommy's." Nikki suggests.

Oh, he was saving his ass. He always played it off, but I now know anytime Vanity and I were together without him their to moderate what was being said on her part, he was a nervous wreck, always waiting for Vanity to mess up in a drunken rant or cracked out haze and let it slip she and Nikki were an item.

I still think back on how absolutely stupid I was.

All the signs, red flags, warnings, everything, were right in my face.

The biggest one being...

"When did you get that?" I ask Nikki as we head to his bike to go to the Seventh Veil.

It's a Roman numeral "V", and I keep trying to figure out what significance the number "5" has to him.

"While I was out last night." He replies.

"I leave you, Tommy, Slash and Stevie and Vanity alone and you get a tattoo?" I ask with a chuckle.

I didn't go to Tommy's last night because I was too tired to go party it up with him. We got home last night before Nikki went to his house and I climbed in bed and passed out.

"Yeah. Are you surprised though?" He asks me and I look at him and grin, shaking my head a little bit.

"Nope." I reply.

Once we get to the club, we're met by a plethora of girls, and Vince and Tommy looking like they're in absolute heaven.

I actually take the time to introduce myself to the girls, learning their names and trying to get along with them.

That's pretty easy to do because even though they look intimidating, they're nice.

Would I trust them alone in a room with my husband? No.

Are they sweet girls, though? Yes.

Wayne gives us an hour to get ready, even though they're basically already ready, and change into what we're going to wear in the video.

Ross wants to take promotional shots of the guys with the group of pretty women before it gets dark out.

So, while Sharise and I get ready, the band and the dancers are hitting the street to take pictures.

My favorite of those photos has to be of Nikki surrounded by them all hugged up and close to him and he's just eating up the attention. Of course he had to put on for the camera, but maybe if I would have gone, I would have been able to see exactly how comfortable he was touching on other women.

I finish my makeup as Sharise starts changing into her lingerie and I follow suit, raising a brow at the set she picked bought for me.

"Isn't that cute?" She asks me, nodding to the articles in my hands and I look at her.

"It's uh...revealing."

"As lingerie typically is, Viv." She replies with a small chuckle.

"Yeah, but...?" I hold up the thong for emphasis.

"What about it?"

"My ass is gonna be out. And one wrong move and my pussy is gonna be out there with it." I state.

"No, it won't, you don't have anything to worry about."

I let out a breath, hesitating to put it on and she frowns at me a little bit.

"Vivian, are you alright?"

"Yeah." I state.

"Are you gonna finish getting ready before the guys get back?"

I just nervously glance at her.

"Okay." She says, finishing putting her heels on. "What's up with you, huh?"

"I don't know if I want to do this." I admit.

"Why not?" She asks me and I raise a brow.

"I'm just--I don't know. I'm just not..." I motion my hands around my body and she looks confused before it clicks and she's suddenly looking like she doesn't believe me.

"Tell me it isn't because you don't think you look good?"

I don't answer and she let's out a breath, smiling at me.

"Vivian, you are a gorgeous girl. There's no need to think you aren't. I promise." She assures me and I inhale and exhale before nodding. "Good. Now get changed and c'mon so we can get this over with and the guys can stop badgering us about it, alright?"

"Alright." I smile, taking my clothes off to slip into the brand new lingerie.

I was weirding myself out because I had never had confidence issues, but something about 1987 just made everything plummet.

The only brightside was that I was beginning to be weaned off my antidepressant.

I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but I found out in 1988 that it wasn't necessarily good.

Being surrounded by all those women, very pretty, very fit, very sexy women, just made me feel like a fish out of water.

I guess when you're raised to believe showing the bottom of your thigh is a sin, you can feel like you're in a completely different universe that you don't belong in when you're faced with the responsibility of prancing around in your underwear for men, and the world, to see.

I was always happy when I felt like Nikki was proud to have me as a wife, but he just wanted me in that video to show off what he got to bed down anytime he wanted it.

"Girls, we're starting in five!" Wayne yells on the other side of the dressing room door as Tommy and Nikki step in, grinning at all the half naked, gorgeous women in here.

I straighten my crucifix, before my eyes hone in on the faint scar on my thigh that's just a little visible through the stockings, and doubt sprigs in my mind that other people might be able to see it.

I fucking hate the damn thing and it's quickly becoming the current bane of my existence.

"Girls, c'mon." Tommy playfully puts in, grinning, motioning them to the door.

They giggle softly, smiling at him as they step to the door, Tommy playfully patting all of them on the ass as they walk by, causing me to roll my eyes when it's my turn.

He just smiles down at me, folding his hands behind his back, innocently.

"We'll be there in a second." Nikki tells him.

"K." Tommy replies, tucking a dancer under his arm, shutting the door behind him.

I turn away from Nikki, facing the mirrors, pretending to make any last adjustments to my hair and makeup as he leans against the closed door.

He looks gone as shit, but when doesn't he, anymore?

After what seems like hours, he's stepping towards me, his hand reaching around my front, tugging the tie of my short, silk robe, his fingertips brushing up my stomach as he watches me in the mirror.

He pushes the robe off my shoulder, exposing my bare skin, pulling my curled hair to my other shoulder before pressing hot kisses to the previously revealed one, leaning his weight against my back, pulling my ass against his groin, causing me to let out a sigh and allowing myself a few seconds of bliss before remembering he's been mean the past few days...and said some fucked up shit when I told him where I had stayed that night he ditched me in town.

"Nikki," I start, his tongue and teeth traveling to my neck while his other hand slides down my highcut, dark-green, sequined, thong and finely meshed fishnet stockings. "Nikki, stop." I let out and he huffs out a breath, getting off of me, rolling his eyes.

"The fuck is wrong, now, Viv?"

"Okay, you can't just scream shit to me like you did earlier and then pretend everything is fine without addressing it."

"I can't even remember what the fuck I say to you half the time so I'm sorry if you're ridiculously needy and constantly need to be reassured we're 'okay' after every fucking disagreement. We're okay. Does that make you feel better?"

"No, because it's bullshit. We're not."

I notice him staring at my body, readjusting himself. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Of course."

"Then what did I say?"

"...Okay, I was more focused on your body language..." He says. "...which was telling me you're pissed off over absolutely nothing." He smirks and I cut my eyes at him. "Okay, okay, truce: I'll apologize for whatever you think I did wrong, if you just give me two minutes."

"Two minutes to what?" I furrow my brows.

He grins like the Cheshire Cat.

A minute later I'm gasping for breath, arching my back as Nikki flicks his tongue between my legs, my thong and stockings on the floor as my legs rest over his shoulders.

"Sixx and Sixx and a half, you ready?!" Wayne calls, knocking on the door.

"Almost, man, I'm finishing up on my dinner!" Nikki replies, winking at me.

"What does that have to do with Viv?!"

A loud moan falls from my lips when he suddenly shoves two fingers into me, and my face heats up at the sound of Wayne groaning in disgust and frustration because we're running behind.

"Just hurry the fuck up!" He orders, walking away.

Nikki goes back to what he was doing before we were interrupted, and I'm coming within a few more seconds.

Once I get as cleaned up as I can get, I'm pulling my stockings and panties back on before dropping my robe.

"Woah, woah, woah!" Nikki stops me before I can walk out. "That's what you're wearing out there?"

"Yeah? You saw it a second ago, didn't you?"

"The robe was kinda covering this up." He motions to my matching dark green, sequined bra that goes with my bottoms, my boobs nearly spilling out of it because it's designed to push them up.

"Okay, and?"

He turns me around, a weird look on his face as he looks over me.

"I don't like it." He finally says.

My confidence plummets and I look down at myself and up at him again.

"W-What? What do you mean?" I self-consciously try to cover myself up with my arms.

"It's just...slutty." He shrugs.

"Nikki, you don't mind when I dress up like this at home."

"That's different. That's for me."

I realize I look perfectly fine, he's just pissy I'm gonna be in the video that he begged me for weeks to be in, but I'm actually dressing the part instead of trying to keep it as modest as I can.

My self-consciousness evaporates and I raise a brow.

"It's called being more fun." I say, echoing what he told me the other night. "You wanted me in the video, Nikki, and now I'm in it. If you don't appreciate that, there are plenty of people out there that are going to." I slip my heels back on and he rolls his jaw. "C'mon, before Wayne kills us." I kiss his cheek and slip out the door, hearing a loud crash behind me due to Sikki throwing a few things around in the room out of anger.

He just thought he wanted to show me off, apparently once he realized the consequences of his actions of pressuring me for weeks to do the video, he despised the idea.

And Wayne, being completely all-in, just kept adding fuel to that fire.

"Alright, I need shots of you," Wayne tells Natalie, a blonde with the long hair pulled back into a ponytail, "you," he points to Pam, another blonde, but she has huge, fake boobs, that are barely being contained in her white bikini, "annnnd," he takes a moment, pressing his lips together as he examines the group of us, "Vivian. You're up to bat."

"I'm what?" I ask.

"She's what?" Nikki echoes me.

"Um, I thought I was just gonna be in the background." I add.

"Nikki said he wanted you front and center in some of the frames."

"I did?" Nikki snaps.

"You sure did." Wayne brushes him off, nodding at me. "Viv, c'mon, stage, center pole, now."

Vince is so obnoxiously pleased with this turn of events.

"I can't pole dance." I state to Wayne.

"Thought you used to dance?"

"Ballet. Not stripping." I reply.

"Oh." He furrows his brows before shrugging. "Well, just give a pole spin or something simple that I can catch in a handful of fps."

The look of utter anger on my husband's face from where he, Tommy, Vince and Mick were sitting in front of the stage, when I rested my back against the pole, facing them, and slid down in to a split...he probably wanted to murder me and Wayne at that moment.

I got a sick sense of satisfaction from it.

Before Wayne can yell "cut", Nikki's hand wraps around my ankle, suddenly, and he's snatching me to him.

I try not to scream at the pain of my joints popping in my hip.

His grip is hard, biting into me, and his pinpointed eyes are mocking me, despite his smirk disguising his anger, but the camera is still rolling so I make myself smile and laugh it off as if he's joking incase Wayne decides to keep the footage in.

Nikki's also decently aware of this possibility and instead of screaming at me like I know he wants to do, he kisses me.

He did keep it in, and it honestly looks merely harmless in the video. It just looks like we're goofing off.

He hauls me off stage, throwing me over his shoulder, his hand coming down on my ass one good time, sending a stinging heat throughout me that I actually yelp out "OW" in response to.

Once he sets me down, his hand is gently rubbing over my aching hip and I wince.

"I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to do that." He admits in my ear.

I don't acknowledge it, hearing Wayne give orders to Natalie and Pam.

Once they're done with specific shots, he's replaying the "Girls, Girls, Girls" and telling the guys to "just go for it" so he can get the candid shots he wants.

Shots that include Vince offering Sharise money he's holding between his teeth as she gets handsy with him, grinning widely at him, looking absolutely perfect as she always manages to do so effortlessly. Another one includes him scooping her up in his arms, about to carry her out with her laughing.

A shot that I know won't make the censored version of the video is Nikki using his arm to clear off a table with a few business men at it, tossing me onto it with little warning, before biting between my legs, causing me to get red with embarrassment as he gives a second nip to my thigh, my stomach my chest and finally, my smile-adorned lips.

As the night goes on, Wayne captures everything he needs, including moving all of us girls back into the dressing room with Nikki and Tommy "helping" us get ready for the stage while Mick plays his guitar in one of the chairs in front of the vanity with girls touching up their makeup and outfits all around him.

Once Wayne's finished inside, he and the guys head outside to film them riding their motorcycles down the street and catcalling pretty girls. Sharise and I don't necessarily want to see that, so we hang back at the Seventh Veil and get changed.

"I think we all did good." Natalie pipes, grinning.

"Me too." Missy, the shorthaired brunette, adds. "So..." she starts, glancing at me as I pull my jeans on. "...You and Nikki have been together for how long?"

"Umm, married almost four years, we've been together for six, though." I explain and she nods.

"I was just wondering. It's hard to tell with a lot of these rock guys, ya know? I mean, some of them think if they aren't with their wife or their girlfriend, they have permission to mess with other girls." She says. "Some guys are with their wives or girlfriends and still do that, though."

"I'd kill him." I scoff out.

"Oh, me too." Sharise echoes.

"So, like, how do you get them to stay faithful, then?" Natalie asks us smoothly, her shaped brows furrowing slightly.

It seems like such an easy answer, but the more I dwell on it, the harder it is to find words...or an explanation.

"Well, um," I start, letting out a breath. "You do the best you can do. And if that isn't good enough then that's basically saying you aren't good enough, and you don't wanna be with someone who thinks that way about you anyway."

"So if you found out he was cheating or has cheated, you'd leave? Just like that?" Missy asks next.

"I've never thought of it. I don't know what I'd do, really. Except cry."

"No, no, no." Pam states, pointing at me. "You key the bikes and bust all the windows and tires from the cars, you destroy the record collections, you vandalize the house, and you get the fuck outta dodge." She says. "At least that's what I'd do."

"And that's why you've never been married." Missy adds, the two of them chuckling.

"I'd stay." Natalie pipes and we all look at her. "What? I know my worth, but with that much money, your financial security is guaranteed."

"Until the band becomes washed up and can't make a buck off a show anymore, sweetie." Pam replies. "Never settle for someone because you feel financially secure. That's how all these people end up killing themselves. They're so miserable but surrounded by all the money in the world. Money doesn't mean happiness."

"No, but a designer handbag every week does." Natalie suggests.

"Ha ha." Pam sarcastically lets out, rolling her eyes. "What about you, Viv? Love or financial security?"

"I'd gladly go back to living in that shitty apartment he had when the guys were broke as hell, starting out, if it meant getting rid of all the complicated shit and just loving each other." I say truthfully.

No amount of money would have been able to make me cover my eyes and knowingly allow him to do what he had been doing to me.

But you would have thought that was the case considering how much he got away with right under my nose.

I just had so much faith in him, I believed in him more than I believed in God.

That was one mistake of many.

[lancetuckershairgel]

Dollhouse

Chapter 2: Homecoming

Characters: Jefferson x Reader

Words: 1,323

Warnings: dark themes, abduction, drugging, medical restraint, gag, talk of body modification, fear/crying, non consent

Tag List: @southernbell91 @marvelgirl7 @buckysforeverprincess @brat-in-a-teacup @tranquil--heart @anxiousamandapanda @i-have-arrived-bitch @angryknightstatesmantrash @stupendousshepherdloverpony @msruchita @slytheringswift @kissmecap @buckysteveloki-me @marvelfansworld (If you want to be added or removed let me know. I added those who reblogged Chapter 1 in case they want to see Chapter 2)

AN: Again this is a dark story. If it isn't your cup of raspberry tea, move along.

[[MORE]]

Jefferson made his way down the dimly lit hallway of the medical facility careful to not make much noise as he walked. It was almost four in the morning but not all of the patients were sleeping. Most of them were insomniacs and so out of their heads they didn't know their own names much less the time of day. Jefferson needed to be quiet and quick in accomplishing what he came to do that night. He had convinced the guard to let him in so that his key card wouldn't show that he'd swiped it at the door and threw in an extra bribe to make sure the security tapes were altered. Sure this place was full of people who wouldn't be missed and "accidents" happened all the time but having a patient go missing in the middle of the night was something the government was on quickly. Jefferson had to made sure he covered every track and was thankful he had a charming personality so no one would suspect him first. 

He entered the girl's cell quickly, leaving the door ajar to make his escape easier. She was sleeping on her side, facing away from him. Her breathy was steady and she looked almost peaceful save for the occasional shudder caused the draft. The government hadn't funded the facility with enough money to purchase blankets for the patients. 

Jefferson walked over to her and reached down to brush the long hair away from her neck gently so as not to wake her before he pulled the syringe from the pocket of his white scrub top. He flicked the cap off and held his breath as he plunged the needle into the girls neck. She had a moment to open her eyes, the pain sharp and unsuspected, before they rolled back into her head and she became limp. Jefferson removed the needle and placed the syringe and cap back into his pocket then scooped the girl into his arms. He carried her out of the building, giving a nod to the guard. 

"Thanks, Niel."

"Anytime, man. Just make sure you keep your word."

"Of course. Give me about a week to get her ready."

Jefferson turned and carried the unconscious girl to his car. The black sedan sat waiting with the trunk open and Jefferson carelessly dropped the girl inside with a thud and slammed the trunk shut. He walked around and got into the driver's side, turned on the radio, and lit a cigarette before pulling off into the night. 

The girl began to stir, murmuring as she regained consciousness. She opened her eyes and squinted, a bright light nearly blinding her from overhead. She tried to lift her arm to block out the light but she couldn't move. She tested her limbs and found them all to be bound to the table by some form of straps. Her heart began to beat faster and her breathing increased as panic rushed through her. Assuming she was still in the asylum and about to begin a "treatment" she whimpered, looking around in an attempt to see the room. The overhead light was the only thing illuminating the room and it shone directly down on her preventing any sight outside the immediate area of illumination. 

"H-hello?" She called out 

She was met with silence. She sighed and tested her restrains again lifting her head to look down to discover that not only was she bound to a steel table, she was naked. Panic turned to fear and she shivered. 

"Hello!" She cried out again, jerking the restraints on her wrists  "Let me out of here!"

The door opened then and she could hear footsteps. They stopped as the person approached the foot of the table. 

"W-whos there?" She whimpered "Doctor Stein?" 

Silence. 

"Please let me go, I'm not crazy, I don't belong here, don't do this to me please!"

Her pleas fell on deaf ears as Jefferson picked up a latex glove. She could hear it snap as he put it on and she trembled. 

"I'm sure you're confused. Allow me to explain." 

Jefferson's face came into view then as he sat on a rolling stool next to the table. His blue eyes glimmered in the light and he smiled softly at her, placing a hand on her bare stomach. For a split second she was relieved to see the nurse who was always kind to her but her relief was short lived when Jefferson's eyes darkened and he picked up a roll of medical tape and rag.  

"I-I don't-mmph!"

Her eyes widened as Jefferson shoved the rag into her mouth roughly, stretching her jaw open. He wound the tape around her head several times, covering her mouth and chin tightly to insure that she didn't remove the gag. 

"I told you I would get you out of there." He spoke calmly, pinching her chin between his fingers and holding her head steady to look at him "Now you owe me a thank you. Your thank you will be your service to me."

She furrowed her brow in confusion.

"You're going to be my meal ticket. My personal little fuck doll that I'm going to play with, not only for my pleasure but the pleasure of the thousands of other sick fucks out there that are going to watch me play with you." 

She yelled into the gag and tried to turn her head away but Jefferson's grip tightened on her already aching jaw. 

"Dolls dont speak. Therefore that little please back there is the last word you're pretty mouth is ever going to utter. I'm going to clip your vocal cords and your tongue, making sure the only noise you'll be able to make is pathetic whimpers and moans of pain."

He laughed slowly, grinning down at her.

"There will be pain, so much pain, but it's all a part of the process. By the end of this you won't feel a damn thing at all."

He stood then, releasing her jaw and rooled the stool over to the head of the table. His eyes trailed over her body and she blushed red from embarrassment of being exposed to him. 

"These aren't going to do at all." He shook his head as he grabbed her breast roughly making her wince and cry out "Luckily I have a way to make these pathetic excuses for tits much bigger without any invasive surgery.".

Her eyes widened and she shook her head. Her breasts weren't small, but not large either. She thought they were perfectly round and pert and they gained a lot of attention from the boys at school. Why would he want them bigger? Why was he even doing this to her in the first place? 

"What else can I do…" Jefferson mused as he twirled a strand of her hair around his finger "I'm definitely going to shave your head."

He ignored her muffled screams.

"All of your body hair will be removed permanently. Maybe I'll add some piercings. Small ones, nothing dramatic, just to your nipples and clit."

As he spoke he moved around to the end of the table to inspect her from that end and began to massage her right foot. 

"Hmm. Did you ever take ballet?"

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face now. 

"Then you'll have no idea how much it hurts to stand on your toes. How much damage it can do. You'll find out soon, I've got a beautiful pair of ballet boots just your size. Shhh now, you'll get used to wearing them don't worry. I've got all sorts of things for you to wear actually." 

He chuckled darkly as he stood. 

"I think that should be enough modification." He reached over to grab something off a table that sat out of sight "For today anyway. Let's begin." 

The sound of a razor turning on filled the room, drowning out her sobs. 

[l1ana]

Imagine you and Spiderman being like Adrien and Bridget from ML

Summary: Incase y'all don't know wtf this prompt is— Basically it's [Name] with a crazy crush on Peter but he's either totally oblivious to it, un-purposefully ignore her, or is focusing on another girl. Meanwhile, he -as both spiderman and peter- completely falls in love with her hero alter ego albeit she shows no interest in Spiderman whatsoever. I got this idea after watching a bit of the Miraculous Ladybug original concept video and just had a sort of breakthrough. Anyways, on with the story.

———

“Hey, Peter...” You scrambled to navigate through the sea of fellow classmen, desperate to catch up to your object of interest. He just wasn't hearing you, and that deeply plummeted your mood. Before you knew it, he was gone— Disappearing into the crowd probably never to be seen again until lunch classes.

Peter Parker, biggest geek in highschool. Always bullied, always harassed in ways you thought were impossible. He seemed like the type to keep his head low and live an honest normal life, but little did anyone have clue on about his contrasting alter ego— Spiderman. As said hero of Queens, Peter could do everything he couldn't do as an average teenager. Who knew red and blue spandex was the key to becoming famous?

You sighed as thoughts of Peter bubbled into your head and revolved without signs of stopping. His nerdish and oh-so dorky quirks were the center of your attention aside from his baby face. Not to admit it, but you were in love with the charmer like a mad puppy. But the thing is— He never took notice of you. Hell, he probably doesn't even know that you exist. The only time you two ever met gazes was during class switches, before school, in the middle of lunch, or after school. Other than that, you were a ghost pretty much.

Today was no different from the rest; besides there being the fact that a pair of tickets were in your left hands hold. They crumpled up when your grip increased tenfold, tears threatening to pour down your eyes. ‘This is so unfair.’ You thought to yourself. ‘Why is it that whenever I try to start something with him... Fate just doesn't allow it?’ Your heart fell heavy into your chest. People would call you callow or petty for thinking what you did, but the thing of the matter is that your crush has been the same since elementary school years and continued from there. There was no doubt in your mind that Peter Parker was the one for you.

But, then again, he doesn't even know who you are.

Thankfully, you had a way to change that.

“Hey, Peter!” This morning, you wasted no time in dashing and shoving anyone who dared to get in your way out of eyesight and tracked the chocolate haired boy to a more secluded part of the hallways. The both of you were panting a bit, tired from all of the post-exercise. “P-Peter... Parker...” You breathed out, hands on your knees. “I am... I'm...” Before you could continue on and let him know who you were, the bell rang. Whoopdy-effing-doo. Oh how you wanted to pummel your bad luck into a pulp. “Sorry, I gotta go... Maybe later?” He cringed a bit, aware of how inconsiderate he was being towards you.

With those words left in his wake on your mind, he hurried off to his next class. It took some moments to pass by until a more than visible red hue formed on your face in a horitonzal fashion. Your pair of hands raised to slap your cheeks and squish them in multiple different ways, meanwhile you wore the most lovesick expression you swore you could make without seeming like you were on drugs.

‘Maybe later, he said..’ You recited his words in your head over and over like a song. Small yelps and cheers of joy escaped your lips as the thought didn't cease to fade away. Step one to getting acknowledged was complete. Now if only you could—

“[Name], there's a robbery down at the city bank.” A robotisized voice rang through your left ear. You sighed heavily. “Uggghh. That's not my problem, Stein. Let the police handle it.” Your hand waved through the air. “It seems to be another one of Electro's heists.” “.... UGGGGHHH.” Getting to the city and back would put your last two periods to waste no doubt and you'd also lose a chance to go out and establish a bond with the apple of your eye. But after hearing that Electro was involved, you found that there was no other choice but to go out and do this. Besides, the cops wouldn't stand a chance against him.

‘I'm sorry Peter, you'll have to talk to me sometime later.’ You silently apologized to your crush in your mind, hoping that he would telepathically get your message. Afterwards, you ran into the nearest bathroom and then was seen jumping out the window into the street, except your attire had changed completely. Instead of being dressed down in the usual ‘[Name] wear’, a skin-tight bodysuit overtook you, a half of a face mask covering your face whilst a horn headband was slapped atop of your shimmering hair.

You hopped and skipped from building to building, the voice in your left earring continuing to speak. “There seems to be several hostages under his clutches. He seems to be anticipating the arrival of somebody... My bet is on you, [Name].” He hypothesized. “Oh put a damn sock in it.” You huffed.

After a few more leaps into the air, you skidded off the edge of a shop building and landed directly in the open circle of crowding people. They had instantly moved out of your way at your arrival, going into a state of indistinctive chattering. “I-It's Queen!” A man exclaimed, noticing you right away as you began to talk to a nearby police officer to get the scoop on what's going on.

Queen— Your alter ego hero self, affiliated with the avengers as a late bloomer type. Your powers consisted of shifting into anything solid along with a side of light generation from your hands. The shifting part of your ability allowed you to increase the speed of your cells, making your body seem as though it were gas, and slipping through solids without a problem. The other part is self-explanatory. To be quite frank, Queen was a alias that your supporting fans had made and you just went along with it, that name eventually sticking to you like glue and becoming your permanent hero name. Funny thing, really, cuz you were the Queen of Queens New York.

“I see,” You nodded at the information the cop divulged with you. “Thank you. Now please, stand back, it may get too hectic alright?” At your words the cop nodded, giving orders to back the people who crowded the front of the bank up. You jumped onto the top of the building, holding your breath and phasing through the roof. It took naught but a few seconds later for you to be landing perfectly on your feet, an all-too familiar laugh echoing from far away. The floors were wet. Oh how you've been through this song and dance one too many times before. “Stein, I need a heat signature scan all around if you don't mind.” You whispered into your earpiece.

“7 of them, each of them with their pulses fulctuating at rapid speeds.” The AI spoke. “He must've already pulled a stunt on them before the police arrived.” The first priority before moving on to Electro was to evacuate the premises of any remaininf victims. And that's exactly what you did. It was hard since most of them were all in different and difficult to reach places of the bank but the number was instantly knocked down to one left.

You scratched your head and thought aloud. “Where's the last one at...?”

“You mean, this body right here?” A menacing cackle interrupted, you turning your direction to whence it came from only to witness Electro standing a few feet away from you, hostage in a chokehold on his left arm. In the other arm was the occasional sack of cash that you were sure he wouldn't get away with. Your eyes rolled, unintentionally getting a glimpse of a familiar spandex wearing hero. He was new and all. Round of applause everyone, for the one and only Spiderman.

When he saw that you were staring directly at him, he waved, then making various hand motions that you somehow in god understood. Basically he was going to shoot a string of web at the hostage and hoist them up, stealing them from Electros grip and giving you chance to take the preemptive and just go wild— But also take caution into not destroying the place.

As Electro went on and on with his planned monologue, Spiderman used the chance for when his eyes were closed to not only shoot some web in his face as a stunning effect, but also managed to snag the hostage in one fell swoop. Two birds with one stone— Neat. “What is this substance on my face!?” Electro screamed, trying to claw it off but to no avail. You laughed at this scene. For some reason, Spiderman had the oddest feeling that he had recognized your voice from somewhere. After the fit of chuckles faded, you made sure to give your target such a hard two-piece, that Spiderman swore he saw some teeth flew out of his mouth.

‘Whoa...’ Was the only thing that crossed his mind. Despite your petite figure, you were strong enough to knock a grown man unconscious with just one slug? “You can take it from here, Spider-guy. I've got better things to do besides turning him in. You can do that on my behalf, right?” You yawned, making your way towards the south exit, away from the mob. “O-of course, miss Queen!” He hopped off the ceiling and landed to the ground, ensuring to web the now knocked out cold ‘threat’ up real good and give the police to bust in finally. Once they did, he trailed right after where he saw you leave, only to catch you flipping and twirling in the air with such haste.

Even behind the mask anyone could see the smile forming as his eyes lit up just from seeing you. Needless to say here, but he was all over you. A complete and utter fanboy who joined the wave after witnessing some viral videos of you committing deeds that he would usually perform.

“H-hey, wait up!” He called after you, tailing the direction you went. “Huh?” Feeling that call be directed to you, your head clocked round to see the same spiderboy from before, flipping onto a pipe in front of you. “Oh, you again.” Your expression deflated a slight bit at his presence. “What is it?” You asked, hoping to get him out of your hair quickly. “Oh, well, I-I, uhm...” He stammered over his words, taking in the beauty of yourself in whole as something to beheld. “Queen, your last period is almost closing. Be sure to wrap this up quickly.” Stein reminded you, causing a shrill screech to release from your parted lips. “CRAAAAPPP!!!!” You instantly turned your back towards Peter and took off without another word, disappearing into the city.

Spiderman just stood there, processing what had just transpired. This was rare. Well, him getting all tounge tied while underneath the mask he called Spiderman. Seemed like your charismatic charms overpowered his. Not like that wasn't to be expected — You were pretty cute if he'd have to agree with your thousands of rowdied fanboys and girls. Jeesh, he felt himself falling head over heels for you instantly.

“I'm here!” You exhaled, busting the door to your last period classroom. There was no reason for you to give a damn about all the eyes laid on you when you performed such an action. After all, “[Name] Stark. Just on time before the bell rings.” You were the daughter of the most famous idol in all of New York, so school imaging meant nothing.

As soon as the bell rang, you were in the hallways being swamped with the rest of your classmates. In the middle of all the traffic, a shoulder bumped into yours. “H-hey, what the hell—” Turns out, it was the absolute love of your life once again— Walking out of your eyesight and never to be seen again until tomorrow morning.

‘Dammit. I still had time and couldn't give him the tickets.’ You mentally pouted with that curse.

———

Idfk if y'all want me to tag y'all in pt.2, but I'm making a part.2 just for your information

[inlovewithmobtom]

Tainted Love (Ver. 2) - Chapter 6 ~ Part 1

Pairing: Mob!Tom x OC Reader AU

Word Count: 2.2k

Credit to: @thwiparkers who made the awesome moodboard to go with the Selene version perfectly. Love ya Rae and thanks so much!

———————————————————————————————————

Selene’s P.O.V.

The next week…

As Selene woke up every morning, noticing that Tom's presence was always missing, meaning he didn't plan on coming back to the apartment the night before everyday.

Selene slowly got out of bed tiredly and made her way to the bathroom turning on the lights to see the state she was in.

Her eyes were dark and puffy having cried every night. Her face and body were incredibly pale from not seeing the sun for many days. But she always took a shower and brushed her teeth everyday because she couldn't let herself not do so.

After taking a shower and brushing her teeth, she dried off and got dressed. She then made her way into the kitchen and made herself some breakfast.

All of a sudden as she was making breakfast, she heard the front door open to see a disheveled Tom stumble in.

“Hi Babygirl! I've missed you so much.” Tom whispers softly as he attacks her in a bone-crushing hug and inhales her scent through her hair.

Selene immediately tenses up and stares at him in tears of frustration then sniffles and slowly removes herself from him.

Selene immediately felt repulsed by Tom. She couldn't even stand to look at him. “Where the fuck have you been Holland?” Selene looks at Tom in anger and frustration as tears stream down her cheeks.

“I had important stuff to do, I'm sorry I left you baby without telling you, I just didn't want to overwhelm you. Can you forgive me?” Tom wraps his arms around her waist and pouts playfully as he gazes his bloodshot eyes into her red eyes.

“Come on baby I don't want to fight, I wanna spend the whole day with you. What do you say?” Tom presses gentle kisses on the back of her neck tenderly and lays his head on her shoulder tiredly. Selene closes her eyes as she tries not to lose control of her emotions and nods quietly as tears stream down her face in anguish.

“You’re giving into his lies again, my love. What makes you think he means it this time? He’s only gonna hurt you even further.” Devlin whispers in Selene’s ear coldly causing her spine to shiver as Devlin gazes at him darkly then stares back at her.

Selene sighs softly shaking her away as she serves him in silence and then they both eat quietly on the couch watching tv.

Tom then finishes eating and sets his plate down on the coffee table before sitting back against the couch. He then begins to scoot closer to Selene and trace lines in her skin before he slowly starts to kiss her neck seductively.

“Tommy what are you doing?” Selene asked with a slight hint of annoyance as she gazed into the tv trying to concentrate.

“Nothing… unless you want me to go further.” Tom whispers seductively and begins to kiss her jawline as he watched her for a reaction.

Selene sighed and moaned in relief then immediately snapped out of it and pushed him lightly off her. “Not right now Tommy, we're supposed to be watching a movie.” Selene sighs softly as she ran her fingers through her hair then stared back at him.

Tom nodded then faced back towards the tv and went back to watching the movie.

In the middle of the movie, Tom gets up and stands behind the couch above Selene and begins massaging her shoulders and neck.

Selene moans lightly in pleasure as he massages her neck and shoulders. As she closing her eyes, she slowly feels his hands immediately go to her chest which causes her to gasp and pull away.

“Thomas! What is up with you?!” Selene shakes her head at him and crosses her arms over her chest.

“Baby I'm hungry please.” Tom whimpers as he comes over to her on the couch.

“Then go get something from the fridge. There's plenty of food here.” Selene points to the kitchen.

“That's not what I'm hungry for babygirl. Feel how hard I am for you baby.” Tom whimpers and grabs Selene’s hand, putting it on his massive hard-on which only causes her to blush hard.

“Oh my god, why?!” Selene groans and sighs in frustration. “Babygirl please, I need you so bad I'm gonna burst.” Tom whimpers more and begins to slide her into his pants as his eyes roll back in relief.

Selene gasped softly as she realized her hand was on his hard member and felt it twitch ever so often.

“Sellie, just fuck him and get it over with. My fucking god this guy is needy.” Devlin lights a cigarette and inhales deeply before blowing the smoke out in annoyance.

“Devlin don't pressure her!” Angelina growls at Devlin while Devlin blows smoke back into her face.

“My love if you don't want to do anything with him, don't. Have sex when you want to. You have sex when you feel more comfortable honey.” Angelina whispers gently as she caresses Selene’s cheek and holds it gently.

“Cut the shit Angelina! Selene do what you want, and I have a feeling that you wanna fuck him so just do it!” Devlin laughs as she smokes.

Selene snaps back into reality and decides to give into him by kissing him deeply and heatedly as she begins pumping him.

“Mmmm, babygirl keep going.” Tom breathes out and moans as he throws his head back in delight.

Selene smirks devilishly and continues to do so as she kisses his neck, but little did Tom know that her enticing vixen act was all a facade. Selene wanted sex, but not the way he wanted it.

She kept going acting like the sultry seductress she wished she could be until she eventually down on him. As she was taking him in, she acted like how she imagined what Ginger would act like but she hated doing this. But it got him off.

After going down on Tom till he eventually came in her mouth, Selene swallowed with no feeling. Soon after, they became naked and ended up fucking on the couch roughly and animalistic, but deep down Selene felt disgusted with herself and Tom by doing this. It didn’t feel natural and she didn’t love it.

Once they had finished, Tom was of course in awe of her “changed ways” and cherished her for the rest of the week....

———————————————————————————————————

Tom’s P.O.V.

Tom before coming back to Selene spent the week with Ginger, his ever so present vice that cripples him as much as the alcohol and drugs do regularly.

The funny thing is that it wasn't that Tom didn't mind or care about not seeing Selene… all he saw was the addictions he needed to just keep him going.

In all honesty, Tom knew he couldn't settle down, especially with Selene. Ginger was his perfect obedient girl who would stand by his side no matter what whereas with Selene, she was stronger than Tom and that scared him…

———————————————————————————————————

Tom slowly got up from Selene’s bed trying not to wake her as he quickly and quietly put on his clothes trying to leave as quickly as possible.

Tom’s guilt was slowly eating at him but on the darker side of him, he didn't care. He didn't care leaving her. It was always only him in his mind. His will to survive.

And before he knew it… He was right where he was a week ago, drunk and high as a kite fucking his sweet little redhead Ginger. Not caring about the consequences of his actions.

———————————————————————————————————

Seven weeks later...

Selene’s P.O.V.

Selene barely left the apartment for she was brought into a very dark place by Tom. She never thought she would ever return back to this place again after the last time. Selene barely ate nowadays to the point where all she did was shower and sleep.

Selene began to slowly hate and despise Tom as the days went by. Just the mention of his name made her blood boil and stomach churn.

At this point, he had been wiped off the face of the earth and not even Jamie or Harrison knew where he was. No one knew where he was and eventually everyone gave up.

As for Jamie and Harrison, they never gave up on Selene. Basically they were hawks on Selene watching over her making sure she didn't harm herself. But they saw how tarnished she was from him and that's what broke their hearts.

———————————————————————————————————

Selene immediately shot up out of bed as she felt herself drool which caused her to sprint in the bathroom and vomit harshly into the toilet. After she finished emptying her stomach, she began to cry hard knowing exactly what was up.

She was pregnant with Tom’s baby from their last intimate encounter. She had noticed her slowly growing belly and she didn't know what to do or how to feel. She knew she was gonna keep the baby but she knew she wanted her baby away from Tom and his toxicity.

“Oh my darling! I'm here my love. I'm here.” Angelina ran over to Selene and held her close as she wiped her mouth then stroked her hair.

Selene cried into Angelina chest gripping her close as she shook in fear and in pain.

“Words cannot express how sorry I am my love. You deserved so much better and do deserve better. But my love, you've been given a gift that'll change your life for the better. This baby is an absolute miracle. Because once you have this baby, you'll have and feel a love you've never had before.” Angelina whispers softly as she strokes Selene’s hair gently.

“I don't want him to ever see me again. I don't ever want him near me or my baby ever again. He'll only bring us pain.” Selene cried out rubbing her belly that would soon grow.

“You're better off without him love. He never deserved your heart or time of day. And he doesn't deserve to get to know your baby.” Angelina caresses Selene’s cheek tenderly and lovingly as Selene tearfully nods quietly.

“How am I gonna tell Jamie or Harrison. Or even Tom's family? What am I gonna do? I'm gonna be raising my baby all on my own.” Selene gasps and cries hard covering her face. “What am I gonna do Angelina?” She shook uncontrollably while tears ran down her face.

“You're so incredibly strong my love and you have people who love you. Don't worry my love. Help will be with you along the way.” Angelina whispers softly as she holds Selene close into her.”

Selene nodded in tears as she slowly got up to her cabinet to get a pregnancy test out and decided to use it to make sure. Even though she knew she was pregnant for sure.

After she pees on the test, she sets the timer and waits till it goes off. As it goes off, she picks up the test and right off the bat, it said what she already knew. Pregnant. This only made her cry even harder because knowing that if and when she brought her baby into this world, there's only one of two ways as to how their life will go. Running away from the mob life, or living within the mob life.

———————————————————————————————————

A few hours later…

Selene stared at her phone for a straight 5 minutes at Jamie's number, contemplating on calling him or not.

Selene had distanced herself somewhat from them all as her depression worsened from Tom's actions.

But out of nowhere, suddenly her phone began to ring and she saw that it was Sam. Selene was immediately hesitant to answer the call but she picked it up and breathed out shakily.

“Hello?” Selene asks shakily into the phone as she begins to feel her body tremble in anxiety.

“Selene love how are you? It's been so long since I've last heard your voice. I barely heard what happened and I'm so sorry that I wasn't there for you sooner.” Sam breathes out into the phone which causes Selene to stifle a cry as tears streamed down her face.

“It's alright my love. At least you still called.” Selene sniffles softly and wipes her tears.

“What's wrong love? Is there something else?” Sam asks curiously with a gentle voice.

“Sammie I'm scared.” Selene whispers shakily into the phone as tears stream down her face.

“Why love? What's wrong?” Sam presses in concern as he becomes worried.

“I-I'm pregnant Sammie...and I'm so scared for my baby.” Selene whispers shakily then breaks down crying into the phone.

Sam on the other end becomes shell-shocked and speechless.

“Sammie how am I gonna tell Harry, Nikki and Dom? Or even Paddy? Even Jamie, Wendy and Harrison?” Selene cries into the phone as she trembles.

“Love, we're gonna be there for you every step of the way. We're not gonna abandon you like that fucker did. You deserve all the love in world, including your baby. So I promise you Sel, you're not alone.” Sam whispers softly through the phone and Selene instantly felt comforted.

Taglist for Tainted Love:  @hazhasmycoffee @superholland @lolpeterparker @fairydustparker @lilyholland  @tom-hollands-eyelash @thwiparkers @hollanderwritings

[punkscowardschampions]

Grace & Janis

Little Twin Times

Grace: It's not too late to change your mind! Get dad to bring you xxx Grace: 👍💜💭 Janis: Nah, you're all good, I'm going out to play footie with lads from down the road after tea Janis: You having fun? Grace: 😮😈 WHICH LADS??! Grace: of course! it's the best! 🙌 Name a film and we've got it ready to watch Grace: her mum ordered from the posh bakery too Grace: They've got each of our names iced on so you've gotta come Janis: You know, they live in the farmhouse one along if you keep going down the lane, renovated all fancy, like but they're actually alright Janis: shit at football though 😉 Janis: s'alright, you eat mine Janis: think they use too much cream, s'not as good as Da's stuff Janis: got any horrors? Grace: EW JANIS THOSE BOYS ARE GROSS DON'T PLAY WITH THEM Grace: they always shout stuff at us they think they're so 💪😎 Grace: You always say that! You'd eat custard tarts every day and never try anything new ever! Grace: 🙄 Grace: OBVIOUSLY WE'RE NOT AMATEURS Grace: the cinema room has everything it's like being out at the poshest one you can imagine 😍 Janis: Only 'cos you act like such a drip whenever you see a boy Janis: If you shouted back instead of going all giggly and red maybe they'd not take the piss, ey? 🙄 Janis: I would if I was faced with all that pastry and cream...tastes like fusty old tissue paper 🤢 Janis: At least that'll be a laugh then Janis: Her house smells like an old lady's handbag though 😂 Grace: OMG I DO NOT! Grace: what would you know anyway you're too busy trying to BE like a gross boy to get a boyfriend Grace: such a 👽 weirdo for a sister, how and why Grace: AGAIN DUH! It is such a laugh and you're missing it Grace: for football 🙄 Grace: RUDE JAN-JAN IT DOES NOT Grace: you're just jealous of how cool her house is Janis: Yes you do, you all just nudge each other and laugh like a bunch of loonies Janis: LOL and what would you do with a boyfriend, gracie? you can't even talk to one nevermind anything else Janis: for you, maybe, i'm good where i am tah 👌 Janis: why would i be jealous of having a too large tv in a too small room and calling it a cinema Janis: they ain't even got that much money, we've probably got more, they're just snobby twats about it Janis: how cool, so cool, woooow Grace: DO NOT Grace: I can't believe you've already forgotten that Jake and two of his friends are all fighting over who gets to be my boyfriend rn so Grace: I'm gonna be a great girlfriend like in all the films excuse you Grace: ugh you're the snobby one thinking we're richer than everyone and talking about how much money everyone's got all the time Grace: what am I gonna do with you? 🙄 Janis: how buzzin you must be Janis: doesn't mean you'll know what to do Janis: s'the stuff that happens after the happily ever after you need to know, graciekins Janis: only cos she's a show-off when she's got no right to Janis: always bragging that one Janis: you just don't like it 'cos you're up her hole, like 😂 Grace: I will too! I've practiced kissing loads Grace: Just because you don't have a clue don't tell me I don't Grace: You're the showoff always trying to beat the boys ugh Grace: just brush your hair, put some gloss on and come over Grace: you'll see she is cool and you're just being salty as usual Janis: yeah, we've seen the gloss on the oranges, its manky Janis: at least eat them when you've frenched them Janis: there's no trying involved, i'm just better than all the boys 😏 Janis: no thanks, i've got plans, like i said Janis: if she's so cool why you ignoring her rn hmm Grace: YOU'RE MANKY I don't even use 🍊 thanks Grace: You think as much of yourself as the boys do it's cringey Grace: and im not even ignoring her she's setting the spa up Grace: nobody's allowed to see what's she's done until she's done it so you're wrong again there Janis: Well all the others have got fellas rn or experience under their belt so don't think they're still getting in 'practice' like its a shitty teen movie 😂 Busted Janis: soz, I'll develop an eating disorder and self-esteem issues asap Janis: oh wait, no, fuck that i'm great Janis: don't hate cos u ain't Janis: better get ur surprised face ready now, you're a shitty actress, like LiLo bad post-all the drugs Grace: It's likely you, J, you've gotten really embarrassing lately 😂 make sense why you don't wanna come out. gotta stay in with the fruit bowl Grace: Don't even joke Kirsty Dixon from number 22 had to go to the hospital loads in the summer it's so serious Grace: you're the hater on me and my friends, read the chat back if you don't believe Janis: Whatever you say, Graciepoo Janis: So? She's still a lame bitch Janis: or you gonna be her best friend now too? Janis: Last I remember, it was your pals calling her names Janis: but now she's in the hospital, you all wanna send her flowers Janis: just not chocolates, she'll be raging, like Grace: YOU'RE SO RUDE AND SOOO WRONG Grace: i know you're blinded by your jealousy but it's sad how much you have no idea what you're talking about Grace: cute but still cringey of course Janis: lol jealous of what? Grace: me having friends and you being the lone loser Janis: 😂 no Janis: firstly, your 'friends', you can keep 'em, there's a reason they were free to let you tag along and be their bitch Janis: secondly, i'm happy being alone, you're the one begging me to come hang, so nice one there 👍 Grace: I'M TRYING TO BE NICE Grace: won't next time, bitch Janis: please don't 😂 Grace: laugh it up all you want you were the one tagging along with us for ages Grace: you're not too good, you're too much of a freak now that's all Janis: yeah because wittle baby gracie doesn't want to do anything on her own Janis: don't cry about it now 😂 Grace: no i didnt want my sister to be an antisocial weirdo Grace: makes me look bad too Janis: Literally going out after tea, did you not hear? Janis: You wanna control WHO I'm friends with Janis: I've got friends, I don't want your hand-me-downs Grace: those creepy boys who want to look at you in your shorts aren't your friends saddo Janis: Your mind, Gracie 🙄 Honestly Janis: lads don't care about things like that, they wanna play footie Janis: and I have plenty of other people I hang with, not everyone wants to be in a sad lil gang Grace: now who's being a baby 😂 lads always think about stuff like that Grace: 🙄 you only think its a gang because you've made yourself unwanted Grace: whatever Jan-Jan i've got fun to have Grace: be boring Janis: They really don't, they think you're mental Janis: also a right slag 😂 Janis: sure you do 😏 laters! Grace: at least they think of me you're furniture Grace: I've got plenty of time and chances to change their mind but you're always gonna be blah Janis: lol yeah, so much chance, when i'm the one that gets to chat with them every day on the pitch and you just stand there staring and dribbling, not the ball, like 😂 Grace: 🙄 so jealous at least they know me and my friends are interested they all think you play for the other team Janis: so? I'm not the slag, I'm NOT interested Janis: how lame Grace: i'm no slag either Grace: you're just being too judgey and weird to know the difference Janis: whatever you say 👌 not me you've gotta convince otherwise, is it Grace: thank god for that 😂 Janis: eurgh don't be disgusting Janis: now who's the freak Grace: EWW THAT'S YOUR MIND I MEANT YOU'VE BEEN HIT IN THE HEAD BY THE BALL TOO MANY TIMES TO HAVE A CLUE ABOUT ANYTHING Grace: 👽 Grace: so gross Janis: no you didn't Janis: you're a shit liar Janis: why would you even say something like that Janis: you're messed up, grace Grace: WHY WOULD YOU WEIRDO Janis: I didn't Janis: you're always like this Janis: you're so fucking creepy Grace: I am not Grace: you're the gross creep Janis: get your own comebacks Janis: this is why i don't want to hang with you Janis: you're so boring Grace: get a life and stop being so disgusting all the time Grace: it's not cool its just gross Janis: I've got one Janis: and it isn't yours to ruin with your lameness Janis: ✌ Grace: I can't ruin what doesn't exist Grace: can't compete with how much of a loser you are anyway Janis: stop trying then Janis: weirdo 😂 Grace: 🙄 pathetic Janis: Oh, FYI, you forgot your jammies Janis: Rio's dropping them in so you better run unless you want her to come in and show you up for being a fake little bitch Grace: No I didn't we've all got matching here already Grace: I'm doing fine get over it Janis: That's literally the most hilarious thing I've ever heard Janis: Hope you're snapping pictures so we've all got something to laugh at Janis: 'Course you are, remember to let Jake know the # Janis: so sexy 😂 Grace: You're so obsessed it's embarrassing Grace: leave me alone Janis: I'll remember that when you're pestering me later Janis: Thanks for putting in writing Grace: Don't flatter yourself that I care Janis: So blatant Janis: N'awwwwh Grace: so annoying 🙄 Grace: go away Janis: go soak your manky feet Grace: go lose on the pitch you try hard bitch Janis: me? LOL ok Janis: trying so hard to be white and likable Janis: of which, you are neither Grace: Plenty of people like me as I am thanks Janis: oh, and who are you today? 😂 Janis: you haven't got a clue Janis: faker than your brands Grace: and you do? 😂 trying so hard to be a badass all of a sudden Grace: everyone's laughing at you Grace: not me Janis: By everyone you mean your sad little friends Janis: who no one but you gives a shit about Janis: be more mad 'cos I've ditched you FINALLY Janis: and I can actually enjoy myself Grace: go and do it then Grace: you'd have to stop talking rubbish at me first Janis: do you see me there rn? Janis: I already am Janis: laughing at you takes no time outta my day Grace: 😂 Grace: like i said, obsessed Grace: nothing better to do than be this lame Janis: like i said, bad actress Janis: i still, unfortunately, have to share a room with you, remember? i've heard you crying Janis: 😂 Grace: not everything is about you Grace: nothing is pretty much Janis: Why'd you go crying to mum about me then Janis: Now I've gotta be nicer to you Janis: What a drag Grace: you're a drag Grace: and a worse actress than you think i am Janis: I'm not pretending otherwise Janis: Its impossible to be nice to you, faking it or otherwise Grace: can't be harder than dealing with being around you Grace: too cringey for words Janis: Aww Jan-Jan please come Janis: PLEEEEEEEEEEASE ITS SO MUCH FUN Janis: now that's cringe Janis: 👍💜💭 Grace: not sorry for trying to get you to keep your invite Grace: you said you'd come and the girls were expecting you Grace: some of them wanted you to be there, because they feel sorry for you or whatever Janis: I don't recall that coming from my mouth Janis: more like YOU said I would Janis: boohoo Janis: the ONLY person who gives a shit is you Grace: blah Grace: bored of you thinking you know everything about me Grace: if you don't care then leave me alone like I already told you to do Janis: how could i not? EVERYONE knows you, right gracie? Janis: ur as transparent as a window and as shallow as a puddle Janis: doesn't take a genius babe 😂 Janis: i'm having fun, fuck off yourself if you can't deal Grace: 😂😂😂 Grace: your definition of fun is so sad Grace: I'm off to have some for real Grace: bye Janis: enjoy your spa and matching jimmies Janis: you wild one 😂

[existentialstatesofmind]

Never A Dull Morning

Clare: didn't let boys see her undergarments. Even though she'd starting buying more interesting bras and panties last year, it was for herself not them. Of course Dakota hadn't actually done anything wrong. "It's just private." She explained. "Thank you for understanding." Her cheeks were still pink as she got dressed. Clare wasn't going to explain her weird logic in front of Emi. How she could go without wearing a bra in front of him but wasn't ready for him to see it. Clare was a little shocked after she succesfully beat up Bren. She'd learned how to do that after the whole Fitz threatening her and Eli with a knife incident because it was important to be able to defend herself. Had she gone too far? Bren hadn't actually touched her. Emi was here though and she needed to know it wasn't okay for boys to talk to girls like that even ones who weren't strangers. (Although to Clare, Bren was.) Bren didn't get a free pass. Especially after behaving like that in front of a five year old! He should be ashamed of himself! Besides Clare knew she couldn't hurt Bren badly, she didn't know how to do more than (hopefully) get him to leave her alone from now on. She stepped outside with Kota and slowly breathed in and out trying to calm down. "Is he always like that?" Clare asked. "No problem. I don't want to confuse her. Foreign languages aren't easy for me. I always want to pronounce words exactly how they are written. But in Spanish a J is prounced like an H, in Russian an I is pronounced like an E. So on and so forth. I guess that's why I like French, it's the same alaphabet as English so it's slightly less confusing for me. The difference is the French use diacritics." Clare shrugged. She didn't give up easily and at least she had been right about how to say sushi after all. She felt better by the time they went back inside. Clare smiled at Ash and Emi. "Emi did a good job. He's still down." She knew that wouldn't last much longer so she gladly escaped to the living room with Kota and Emi. Clare sat down on the couch. She bit her lip when Emi asked about purity rings. This was part of the reason why she felt like it was necessary to shut Bren up. Emi didn't need to hear about anything that pretained to sex. Of course she had questions now. Kota was lucky she only asked that one and didn't seem to care that he didn't give her a real answer. Clare winced soon as she heard the name Jenna. Maybe it was a different Jenna? No, soon as Kota got to the part about her trashy short shorts and her purposedly bending over (so everyone could see her buttcrack), Clare knew Dakota was referring to the her former friend. Who stole K.C from her using that exact tactic. He wasn't worth keeping and neither was Jenna's friendship. "I didn't know big mouth already told you all of that before we started hanging out." Clare said softly. "I guess she's still bragging about it. She's been trying to get with every guy since K.C got sick of her. Alli's brother, Sav, turned her down too. She's going to get the baby taken away from her because she won't stay home with him and there's no one else to watch him. I'd feel bad for Jenna but Owen threw my best friend Adam through a glass door for being transgender so...if that's who she wants to be with her baby deserves better." She squeezed Dakota's hand as he confessed to Kelly about his false reputation. Clare knew people might get the wrong idea when they found out she was dating Dakota especially if someone learned about their sleepover(s) but she didn't care. Anyone who mattered wouldn't believe a rumor over the truth. If Jesus Club did to her what they did to her sister, she didn't need to be part of it. However, she hoped they'd changed along with their name. Clare smiled back at him and chuckled because she'd always been able to take care of herself and now she could stand up for herself too. Well, by doing more than slapping boys and making a scene by yelling at them. The other girls at school needed to learn how too instead of relying on Kota to play superman. "I like you just the way you are even if you're reckless. There are some situations you can't get out of alone, she needed a friend." Clare reassurred him after Kelly left. "Just give them the card from now on. Kelly's right. Her dad could've killed you." She shuddered. Clare scooted closer to Dakota when Bren came in. "Do you even realize that was sexual harassment and if you keep doing it, someday a women will press charges against you and you'll go to jail." She said seriously. "You can't grope girls because you like the way we look, just like we can't do it to you. Or each other. Or a guy to another guy." She shook her head. Bren had Genesis all wrong. They were still living with the consequences of Adam and Eve's betrayal. The bible also said that outside of marriage sex was a sin. Even if you didn't believe that, there were other reasons to wait and she didn't plan to do something she'd regret. "Yeah! Let's go after breakfast before it gets too hot. Outside." She frowned. "The only problem is I don't have any exercise clothes here." Clare didn't want to wear her new outfit to the park. She supposed she could make do with what she'd worn over to Kota's in the first place.

Kota: nodded when Clare reassured him after Kelly left and kissed her cheek. "Thank you." he whispered and listened to her chide Bren. He knew that they've been there with him. "Yea, I know. That's why I ask to touch a girl's breasts. They taught me about sexual harassment in school and as long as I don't touch her without permission the most the girl will do is beat the crap out of me. So much easier in Bristol." Bren whined. "Yea, he's got a hard head. He went to Bristol and into a night club where he made a friend. She took a pill, made out with him for about ten minutes, then her boyfriend came and we got a call from the hospital. Bren had to get stitches and had a broken arm. We just sort of gave up after that." he explained to Clare. "The guy had a hard punch, once the girl realized he was beating me up, she called the cops, grabbed him and ran. I'm friends with her on facebook, she asked when I'm going back to Bristol." Bren explained to Clare. "And didn't her boyfriend threaten to kill you if you ever touched her a fourth time since you had to go find her after you go out of the hospital?" Kota asked looking at him. "Yea, but that's just a threat." Bren stated and Kota rolled his eyes. "I wish I could just beat the shit out of you right now, but it'll be futile. I only continued to help because I thought you were done with that girl and could actually change. She's fucking strung out on drugs. That night you were in the hospital she was too, an hour later she tried to kill herself because of the drugs she took. Does that really mean nothing to you, do you not see how much she's calling for help?" Kota asked. "So what she just needs to stop taking whatever drug made her want to die. If she were mine and came to me every night I'd be the happiest man alive regardless if she's strung out or not. They can help the suicide thing." Bren shrugged and Kota got up seeing the headphones still on Emi. "Bren, sex isn't worth your life nor is a girl. Who cares if she got strung out and made out with you, she's fuck-" "I don't care." Bren yelled back and Kota felt a hand on his shoulder to see his mom. "From the first time I held you, I knew you'd be trouble. You acted out more than any of your brothers and never wanted to stay. You were always trying to leave to go wherever, soon that changed and you started going after girls not caring about anyone, but you. I had these papers printed out and money put aside. They're emancipation papers, if you really want this I won't stop you anymore." She said holding his suitcase in hand and he took the papers. "I know you don't care what happens to you, but we do. I think you may need this, to go on your own for a bit and come home to us. Maybe this will help you be a better man." she said as she signed the papers after him and handed him his suitcase and passport. "There's money in there with an address book to friends I've made and keep in touch with in various countries." she said. "And I can be with Iona?" he asked curiously. "This was only an act to be with her?" Kota asked. "Well yea." Bren answered. "If that's what you want." His mom said and Bren took his things and left. "He never unpacked his things. I knew he didn't want to stay." his mom explained and he sat back down. "Maybe this will open his eyes." Kota breathed and laid his head on Clare's shoulder. After she mentioned going to the park after breakfast, he watched as Kelly bought out a plate of pancakes while Dallas carried the plates, Stacy carried sets of silverware wrapped in napkins and Ash and Dom carried sides. Without a word, Kota went to the kitchen and grabbed bottles of juice for everyone, then sat next to Clare and Emi. "Kelly, do you still have those yoga shorts that were too small?" he asked looking at her. "Yea." she answered. "I need them for Clare." He said honestly. "They're in the same place in my room. Also you're on wash duty later after Dallas does the basics. I have Victoria's Secret lingerie that needs to be washed and you're the only one who doesn't shrink them besides Stacy and she has to go home. I also have work." Kelly said and he nodded. "Ok, Stacy do you need your Victoria's Secret lingerie washed?" he asked looking at her. "Yea. Dallas will get them for you when you're ready to do the laundry. Dallas cut some of the tags off mine so that should help a bit. My bras and other items have tags." Stacy explained and he nodded as he ate. "Dom is helping me separate the Victoria's Secret from everything." Dallas stated. "Ash and I will do the dishes then." Stacy stated honestly. "Ok, that leaves Kota and Clare to the floors after dinner." Kelly said. "I wanna help." Emi stated. "We just pick up big items and leave the rest to the roomba." he informed Clare as he continued to eat. After breakfast was done, Kota went and got the shorts for Clare and one of his shirts too. "I'll go change in Dom's bathroom." he smiled at her as he handed her the clothing and kissed her chastely before going to change.