#cynthia needs a drink

[crookedteethed]

18+ slight smut (unprotected piv), sex tapes, mentions of anal, jealous!reader, weirdo behavior

⋆ ★ thinking about how dad!rafe constantly gets hit on by slutty moms and how you have to come in and set them straight : (

Rafe loved his baby girl, but he would bash his fist into the wall if he had to listen to Somewhere Over the Rainbow get played as he watched his little girl prance around in her ballet class one more time. 

Don't get him wrong, Rafe loved spending the daddy-daughter time with his little girl, and it was something (even more) persuasive about your daughter wearing an adorable pink tutu that made him agree to get ice cream after Every. Single. Class.

It was the other parents (and The Best of Oz) who made it so insufferable—not just the other parents—the moms. 

The dads were particularly cool. They typically sat there like Rafe, hunched over into a man's spread, aggressively typing on their phones. 

But the moms--no--the fucking moms always wanted to talk, but not just talk, flirt!

The moms were like cougars, always purposely sitting down next to Rafe, peering over his shoulder, debating whether they should talk to him. 

When they finally do muster enough courage to talk to him (the ones that do), they typically say some dumb shit, like: 

"My heart always goes out to single fathers; it does. I’m single, too. We should grab a drink sometime.”

It was only Cynthia Fucking Allen that asked Rafe dumb shit like this. 

It was dumb because she knew that Rafe wasn't a single father and knew well that you two were happily married. 

The other moms were never as Bold as Cynthia. They typically just tried to talk with Rafe to talk to someone as attractive as he was—which Rafe didn't mind.

Cynthia was a cougar because she didn't fear rejection. She'd never turn down an opportunity to make a pass at Rafe--whether it was inviting him over to dinner or trying to set up "supervised playdates” (which Rafe had always turned her down) or going as far as complimenting his derrière in his khakis.

And though Cynthia's constant badgering was becoming a nuisance to Rafe, Rafe never needed to cut into Cynthia because deep down, Rafe had felt bad for the woman.

Rafe had once heard from you, who heard from one of the other mothers that Mr. Allen, Cynthia's husband, had filed for a divorce. So maybe she was just trying to get her groove back or something, Rafe thought.

Shockingly, you were the one to snap and cut into Cynthia for her nuisance behavior, finally. 

It was a stupid and risky idea, and you don't know what had come over you, honestly. It was something the Queen Bee would do in a raunchy teen movie. 

You had sent Cynthia a video of Rafe full-on fucking you. 

And I mean, you went all out. A tripod was set up and everything. 

It was an 11-minute length video of Rafe fucking you in two positions. 

For five minutes straight, Rafe took you from behind--your plush ass dangling off the edge of the bed as Rafe pounded into your sopping loud cunt, standing up, with his thumb occasionally pressing into your asshole.

With each thrust from Rafe's hips was met with your ass, causing the skin-on-skin slapping to fill the room. 

And then for another five minutes, he fucked you in missionary--with your legs pressed to his sides, Rafe sucking and biting your neck and cursing in your ear about how this is "Your dick."

You had made sure to include a minute of Rafe jacking off and cumming on the folds of your pussy and onto your clit. Then, you told Rafe to hurry up and grab the phone and record him fucking his cum deep inside of you because you were the only one indeed that owned Rafe's cock, and seemingly Cynthia needed to be reminded of that.

When you sent the video to Cynthia, you set it on vanishing mode and made sure it was to be deleted as soon as she finished watching it, so if she ever mentioned it, it was her word against yours.

You never told Rafe about sending Cynthia your sex tape, and Cynthia never brought it up, but you knew she had gotten the message since she never bothered Rafe again afterwards.

[kairithemang0]

Sorry I can’t sleep here’s a post on Curt and his self confidence that’s so low it’s hilarious

Curt’s opinion of himself is heavily dictated on what other people feel about him. During all of a1p1 before the call with Cynthia, he’s collected and cool and showing his skills as a great spy. Because he is a great spy. He’s one of the best. Then, the second we get to the call with Cynthia, his demeanor changes. She says that Owen’s the only one who knows what they’re doing and then tries to recruit him. This is where Curt changes for the worst in this scene, instantly starting to drink.

He’s sorta lost his flow a bit, he’s trying to regain that cool spy feeling he had when he was boring tortured, something he feels like he lost a bit, when he hasn’t at all. His moves get riskier for the sake of doing something that’ll look cool. The timer seems like a good example of this. He pushes it lower than they intended because secretly doing that will make things more interesting, giving him a chance to barely make it out and look badass. It, of course, doesn’t work out like that.

Curt’s incredibly jealous of Owen, of how quick of a thinker he is. To Curt, Owen always knows what to do. And I think sometimes Curt worries Owen thinks less of him because of the comments Curt gets from Cynthia that Owen never really comments on. Because that comment she gives to Curt about not knowing what he’s doing certainly wasn’t a one time thing. I wouldn’t be surprised that at first, hearing stuff like that made Curt actually work harder, got him to really focus when he needed to, and it stopped working after a while. That’s just my thought though.

On the surface, Curt seems incredibly over confident, making dangerous plays to prove himself, to Cynthia, to Owen, and probably himself as well.

I think when Owen and Curt first met, Curt already had a reputation for goofing off and getting into trouble. Owen heard this and then micromanaging their entire first mission, but really saw how good of a spy Curt was when he let him do what he needed to do, get into a rhythm and focus, do his own thing without comments about not being good enough. Because he really is a great spy, and Owen tells him this after this mission. Curt lets out a cocky “I know” but really, he’s so happy to hear that.

[justarandombrit]

Believe it or not, I did in fact go to see Spies Are Forever (you'd never know from looking at my blog), and, as usual, I wrote down some notes. My memory is shit so I'll probably update this with additions when I remember more, but for now, below the cut...

Act 1:

. They played Show Stoppin' Number and so many people were singing along

. It started midway through them playing The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals

. Joey: “Sorry to anyone who thought they were seeing Wizard Of Oz. Although, this show has many friends of Dorothy”

. Emily Proudlock has a beautiful voice. The microphone was struggling a little at the start, though lmao

. THEY GOT AN ACTUAL BANANA PEEL

. Oliver Ormson (Owen) called Curt “Mega” which in the show he doesn't do until he becomes the DMA (not a criticism, just interesting)

. Owen said the “A man needs his privacy”(?) line, so Owen and Barb have officially interacted now

. I love Brian's Informant. His French accent was so over the top

. Brian stared at Clark when he said “The Deadliest Man Alive” until Clark played the keyboard sting. And then whenever anyone else said it throughout the show, he played it.

. They left in a huge awkward silence when the DMA was waiting for Sergio and it was so funny

. Sergio sounded so awkward when he said “You guys can relate, right?”

. Joey fucking SCREAMED “PLEASE!” during Sergio's little Somebody's Gotta Do It reprise

. “The Deadliest Man Alive disarms Mega and escapes”

“He does?”

. Dean John Wilson walked back on stage after his exit, said “The Deadliest Man” and left again

. Okay, so Claire M. Hall is a perfect Cynthia

. You guys are gonna crucify me for this, but I actually liked her Eyes On The Prize I better than Lauren's…

. Joey was making the weirdest faces during Eyes On The Prize II

. Curt cocked his head at Hallucination!Owen and Owen shrugged and mouthed “I don't know” at him

. I LOVE EMILY OOI’S BARB!!!!!! She did a cute little dance during “It's actually a gun!”

. Obioma (Curt) pretending his beard had been shaved lmao

. No Richard Big appearance sadly

. Curt was even more oblivious about Tatiana hitting on him than in the actual show

. The Nazi ensemble stuck around throughout the whole scene and kept gasping when Curt called them villains

. THEY MADE NOT SO BAD… EVEN MORE NOT SO BAD

. “SAY WE GOT A BIT LOST, WITH THE WHOLE HOLO–” *looks at ensemble* “ehh…”

. “WE DID ALL WE COULD DO TO poopoo THE JEW”

. They didn't make the audience chant, which was… probably for the best

. Von Nazi yelled “I'm a big boy! A BIG BOY” at Mega then walked off without using his knees

. Curt groaned and hung his head when the DMA said “I'm gonna torture the living shite outta you”

. Actually gasped at the overlapping “Doesn't even matter if I killed my best friend” and “To show you the horror of staying alive”, even though I knew it was coming

. The homoeroticism 🤌🤌🤌🤌

Act 2:

. I WAS ON THE SAME ROW AS A.J. FUCKING HOLMES AND DIDN'T NOTICE UNTIL JOEY SHOUTED HIM OUT

. Joey shouted out loads of cosplayers still in character as Vanger Borschtit

. Everyone was so excited about Vanger Borschtit, and Joey made everyone cheer for an acceptable amount of time “for his reel”

. The new We Love the Prince lyrics really are so much better (also what did he do to the Pope?!?!?)

. Vanger Borschtit was DISTRAUGHT when the prince died

. Obioma stared so blankly into the audience at “Or whatever it is you boys do in the rumpus room”

. I think out of all of the new cast members, Evelyn Hoskins (Tatiana) sounded the most like the original actor (she was also so cool)

. Obioma actually sung the little “Very good place to start” Sound Of Music reference and Tatiana looked so annoyed

. Tatiana was SO into Doing This up until the kiss (which wasn't a real kiss lmao)

. MRS MEGAAAAAAAAAA

. The lights flashed rainbow after the line “So we're just… friends?”

. Curt looked straight at Barb when he said “Some of us may die”

. Curt paused before he drank the shot, and then started drinking a load and everyone stared at him, really concerned. It was a really neat piece of acting

. Von Nazi kept stressing how he had no idea how Feurgin was killed

. The Informant looked so concerned at the start of NSB reprise, then actually kinda got into it

. Jak Malone (Von Nazi) made his death SO DRAMATIC. He fell to the ground and went “Ow, my back! Ow, my front! Ow, my…self” and then got up and bowed

. Owen stood behind the DMA and they just spun around while Joey narrated

. Joey: “THE DEADLIEST MAN ALIVE FALLS DOWN THROUGH A HIDDEN TRAP DOOR IN THE STAGE–”

. ONE STEP AHEAD JSTSKTKEYYKDKFYFUHDYSWWGDJFKGKFDHSGSTSFJKGKGKGJDSYSYIFKF I'M NOT OKAY

Dean: *Crouch-walks away*

. Owen stared directly at Curt (and addressed him instead of Tatiana) when he said “Don't slip up” and loads of people “Ooh”ed

. Owen seemed actually on the verge of tears in Spies Are Forever (Reprise)

. He also fully yelled “You're a caveman!”

. They changed the line “Taking your advice” to “Moving on”, just like Curt (I think it was Curt? Edit: IT WAS JOEY) wanted in the livestream

. The speech before Spy Again (Reprise) was so good. Everyone came out on stage and it was all just incredible

. SPIES ARE FOREVER, IT'S A MUSICAAAAAAAAALLLLLL……. IT'S ABOUT SPIES!

[liver-f4ilure]

The Charleston Church Shooting: Dylann Roof

*NOTE! This is a repost! And it will look familiar CAUSE IVE POSTED IT ON ANOTHER ACCOUNT!! Is it the best? No.*

—

Early life/ Prior convictions

Dylann was born April 3rd 1994 to mother Amelia and father Franklin with 2 sisters Amber and Morgan. During early childhood his parents would divorce and his father would later remarry. His stepmother accused his father of abuse. He would beg his step mother to let him live with her but she wasn’t able to. Dylann would be described to have obsessive compulsive tendencies with germs. In middle school he would stop caring about school and started smoking weed and drinking vodka. In nine years he would have attended seven schools. In 2010 he would drop out of Highschool and continue playing video games and smoking weed and drinking.

(The Roofs home)

In 2015 he was caught with an invalid prescription for suboxone at a mall to which he was banned from for a year. Later that year he was caught loitering in the mall to which they searched his car finding a forearm grip for a AR-15 semiautomatic rifle and six unloaded magazines capable of holding 40 rounds each but was let off it was legal in the state. Roofs Suboxone charge was mishandled and a system error took it as a misdemeanour instead of a felony. Which would have possibly prohibited him from purchasing the firearm.

(The flag of Rhodesia)

Later Dylann would look into the Trayvon Martin case and from an unknown article concluded Zimmerman was in the right. He then fell down a rabbit hole of black on white crime and misinformation. He then found 4chan and would find even more misinformation and hard right ideologies Dylann states he hasn’t been the same since that day. Which leads to his manifesto titled ‘The last Rhodesian’ Rhodesia being the African state founded in 1965 ran by primary Europeans and a white supremacy ideology before being abolished in 1979. The term now sticks with white supremac!sts like Dylann had became, as he also used the flag on his jacket. In preparation before the attack he looked up black churches and found the Emanuel Methodist Episcopal Church and would scout the area and ask around about mass times.

The shooting

(The Emanuel Methodist Episcopal Church)

June 15th 2015 somewhere around 8:00pm Dylann entered the church, once he did he was greeted by Rev.Pinckney and given a bible to study with. Roof was sat next to Pinckney as the study continued. As the study closed and the ending pray started Roof stood up and pulled out his Glock 41 .45 calibre handgun and began shooting. Killing Pinckney first. Then 26 year old Tywanza Sanders stood up to plead with Dylann before he said ‘I have to do it. You rape our women and you’re taking over our country and you have to go’ he then shot and k!lled Sharonda Singleton, Dr. Daniel L. Simmons, Ethel Lee Lance, Cynthia Hurd, Myra Tompson and Tywanza Sanders. Dylann would reload 5 times that day. Polly Shepherd was spared when he asked her if he shot her yet to which she replied no he then told her ‘good cause we need someone to survive because I’m gonna shoot myself and you’ll be the only survivor. He then turned the gun on himself realizing he was out of ammo. He then left the church to the surprise there wasn’t anyone outside. The next day the police confirmed the gunman was 21 year old Dylann Roof with witnesses reporting they saw him drive towards Shelby, a town close to Charleston. At 10:44am Roof was arrested at a traffic stop in Shelby where it was then confirmed he worked alone.

(The victims)

The Trial

Five days after the shooting the grand jury announced that Roof was being indicted for 33 federal charges.

12 counts hate crime against black people

12 counts obstructing the exercise of religion

9 counts murder using a firearm.

On June 6th Roof reportedly did not want to be trialed by jury and instead let the judge decide if he was guilty and if the death penalty was reasonable. August 23rd Roofs lawyers called the motion of death penalty unconstitutional and asked to reject the motion. On September 1st an on camera hearing was held in case of outbursts. December 7th 2016 the trial started. During a survivor statement Roofs mom collapsed as she had a heart attack. After 3 days of the trial FBI played a video on which he admitted to laughing and drinking while describing to friends how he’d shoot the church. To which his friend didn’t report to police and said he was drunk and took his keys and Glock that was on him. After 2 hours the jury found him guilty on all 33 charges. Roof wanting to plead guilty but told not to by lawyers.

(Roof at his video hearing)

January 10th 2017 Roof was sentenced to the death penalty,death by lethal injection.

[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 13

Warnings:Language, alcohol, brief politics mentioned/talked about, teasing, sexually charged situations/sex eluded to, gratuitous smut, fingering, oral, squirting, scissoring, spit, mommy kink, use of the word kitten, choking, we’re gonna call it snowballing, breeding kink, rough sex, derogatory dirty talk, I think that about sums it up…

Monday:

The flight wasn’t long, a little over two hours, just enough to finally have a breather from the constant and slightly stress inducing work week Heather’s team had had. You spent most of it on your work phone, queuing up social media posts and statements on Heather’s accounts, double checking her approval before you confirmed everything. You were going over the itinerary for the week with her assistant Cynthia when Heather came up, tsk'ing at both of you as she pinched your arm, leaving flutes of champagne on the table, reminding you both to relax as she disappeared into the back of the jet.

That was the one thing about travelling while part of the Dunbar team, it didn’t matter how work heavy the trip was going to be, she was always going to make sure everyone got to actually enjoy the trip too. There would likely be a couple of days book ending the work days to take advantage of amenities, explore the city or just relax on the beach. She had already pencilled in a few dinners and mini festivities into the agenda, spreading out the brown nosing and elbow rubbing that would need to be done on top of panels and meetings.

Landing in Florida you were whisked away to The Ritz-Carlton resort, naturally Heather had a one bedroom suite booked for herself with a separate living room where you would all meet whenever privacy was needed. She kept you in a smaller adjoining suite most trips, this one included, with Cynthia on the other side of your room. If anyone else was brought with, they were usually down the hall, giving them a little bit more space from the work side of things as they would likely only be needed once or twice during the week.

The resort was gorgeous, ocean views, beachfront property, multiple pools and plenty of things to keep you occupied. Four restaurants and bars, coffee shop and café, tennis courts, an entire golf course, fitness center, full service spa along with a plethora of outdoor activities included with your stay ranging from kayaking to horseback riding. There was absolutely no way that any of you would have a spare minute to be bored, not on a trip like this.

Check in was a breeze and you were escorted upstairs where you promptly told Heather you were crashing for a nap, the extra early morning meetings straight into the flight had utterly wiped you. Knowing that you’d been putting in far too many overtime hours, including over the weekend she had no complaints, heading out to explore the resort with Cynthia.

When you woke up a couple of hours later you thankfully felt refreshed and after a brief checking of your phone you decided to head downstairs to check out the gym. You wanted to get a run in and there was no way you were doing it outside midday, it may have been December but you were still in Florida. There were a few familiar faces downstairs that you said a friendly hello to or shared some small talk, and you were more than well aware of a Congressman’s eyes on your ass as you did your cool down stretching.

Back upstairs you could hear Heather on the phone in her room, and knowing there was either dinner or drinks happening tonight, you figured you would jump in the shower, getting ready and presentable for the evening. It gave you the warm up and rejuvenating time you would need, slipping into the more extroverted role you would have to play for the week, friendly, approachable and even a little flirty to everyone while remaining quick and smart as a whip to always come out on top and get all the support and backing you could.

Politics was a nothing but a game of strategy, after all.

*

Tuesday:

You knocked on the door leading to Heather’s adjoining suite, her voice calling out only a second later.

“It’s open.”

Opening the door, you stepped through it into the living room area, Heather glancing up from her laptop, “got a weird request.” You started, “you’re a master at French braiding and I’ve been trying and failing for like twenty minutes now.”

“You look dressed for golfing.” She commented, “you don’t know how to golf, my kids beat you at mini golf before they were ten. Are you seriously golfing?”

“Yeah.” You replied with a shrug, “I mean I’m not going to actually golf, I’m going to sit in the cart, serve drinks and bat my eyelashes until three more congressmen are wrapped around my finger.”

“And you need French braids for that because…?”

“Have you seriously not seen any of those videos going around?” You asked and she shook her head, “it’s like a trend, bartenders testing out hairstyles to see what makes the most tips and pig tails always wins. Double French braids count, so why not see if it makes any difference.”

“I’m not even sure I want to think about the logic behind that.” She grimaced, “but come here, sit.”

Heather gestured to the ottoman in the middle of the room and you followed her instructions, handing off the supplies you’d brought from your room. As you knew, she was an absolute whiz at it, after quickly combing through your hair she had one braid in and swiftly finished the other one, tying a tiny elastic around it. She tilted your head side to side to make sure it was even before tapping at your chin,

“Up. Face me.”

You did as asked, turning to face her, waiting as her eyes surveyed your outfit, short pleated white skirt and a patterned green and blue collared tank top, it tied at the bottom so just enough amount of skin would peek out and had a zipper on the top half that controlled the level of neckline.

“Cute.”

“Tony picked it out.”

“Not surprised.” She murmured, her fingers gently tugging the shirt down a little bit before the moved to the zipper, undoing it further than you previous had it, plucking at the fabric until she was satisfied with the amount of cleavage showing, “now, wear it like he would want you to.” You rolled your eyes but let her continue fixing the fabric, “there.”

“Am I free to go Ma’am?” You asked dryly and she chuckled at your tease.

“Have fun, but don’t get drunk, we’ve got that dinner tonight.”

“Heather I approved your schedule, I know.”

With a glance and a last thank you for the hair help, you disappeared back into your own suite before leaving to tackle the day.

*

Dinner that night was at KOJO, a high end Asian inspired restaurant with plenty of offerings to choose from and an extensive list of Soju ready to sample. It was an extended dinner, debating over politics, views, upcoming bills and legislations that everyone wanted heavy backing on. Plates of tofu bites, gyoza, truffled chicken wontons, wok fried green beans, boa buns and a plethora of sushi were passed around the table until everyone had had their fill.

Heather swiped the bill before a debate on how to split things up could even think about being started, earning her more brownie points than anyone else at the table. By the time the cheque was signed there were a handful of verbal agreements, some future lunches or meetings over cocktails planned for the week, and a few under the table handshakes securing offers.

A quick debrief was had in Heather’s suite before the others made their way out for the evening, either to bed or for a nightcap to wind down. Heather stepped out of her heels, letting out a soft sigh at the sensation, beginning to take off her jewellery, placing it back into the travel case.

“You did fantastic work tonight.” She praised, turning back to face you “how was golfing? Looks like you got some sun.”

“It was fine.” You shrugged, “secured Talbot’s support, flirted my way into Swanson’s good books even if it means I’ll have to have drinks later this week and promised to go on a date with his very eligible bachelor of a son when we’re back in town.”

“God.” She rolled her eyes, “talk about going above and beyond, you’ll never fail me sweetheart. You are a godsend; you know that right?” Her hands landed on your shoulders, squeezing gently as she smiled at you.

“Of course.” You grinned, “you always told me that hard work would pay off. And if I went for extra credit on trips like this… I’d be rewarded.”

“Ah…” her lips curved up into a smirk as her fingers trailed up your neck and across your jaw, “you’re still interested in that?”

“Of course.” You nodded.

“What about your little FBI agent?” She asked, stepping even closer to you as her thumb traced just under your lower lip and you let out a small scoff of a laugh.

“I seem to remember you having a husband.”

“Fair point.”

“She buys me nice things, I spend time with her that’s incredibly enjoyable for both of us, done deal. You know exactly how that works.”

“Good.” She husked, “because I was looking forward to seeing what you’ve got underneath this dress.”

Heather’s lips met yours and despite it being the first time of the trip, there was no gentleness to it as she completely dominated the kiss. Her tongue slunk into your mouth at the same time her fingers slipped underneath the straps of your dress, pushing them off your shoulders before snaking around you and pulling the zipper down. She shoved the fabric down, nudging at your hips to guide you to step out of it as she began to back toward the bed. While your lips moved with haste against each other, your hands made quick work of her dress, leaving her a luxurious lingerie set when the backs of her knees hit the bed.

She broke the kiss, her lips peppering across your jaw and you couldn’t help but let out a breathy sigh, your head rolling back, giving her prime access to your neck. Her teeth scraped across your skin and your breath caught in your throat, a small gasp leaving your lips when she actually bit you.

“Hey!” You swatted at her side, “busy week, no marks!”

“I won’t leave any visible ones, don’t worry.” She glanced at you with a devilish look in her eyes as her hands ghosted up your sides, “don’t be so demanding and you’ll get what you want.” Her fingers pinched at your nipples through your bra and you whined, “you want this, right?” She cocked a brow at you and you nodded, “words kitten...”

“Yes mommy…”

“That’s what I thought.”

Heather dropped down onto the edge of the bed, a quiet yelp leaving your lips as she tugged you into her lap, quickly ridding you of your bra. A hand tangled into your hair, pulling your mouth back to hers and her tongue was quick to sink into your mouth, rolling against yours as you moaned into the kiss, your arms loosely draped over her shoulders. She once again began trailing her mouth down your neck, softly this time to not earn any scolding from you as her hands slid up your sides. She groped at your chest, fingers rolling your nipples as she pinched them harder and harder with each roll. You couldn’t help but let out a louder moan, your head tipping back, body arching into her touch as you sank deeper into her lap. Leaning forward, her tongue flicked over your nipple before her lips wrapped around it, sucking it into her mouth, tracing around it with her tongue. Your hand slid into her hair, holding her tight to your chest as she continued to suck at it and you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you when her teeth sunk into you skin.

“Oh fuck!” You whimpered out, a shiver running through your body as she did it again and you couldn’t help yourself, grinding down onto her lap, your cunt aching for friction as you tried to shift yourself over one of her thighs.

Heather chuckled darkly, nipping at your tit once more before one of her hands grasped your hips, grinding you down into her lap, “there she is… mommy’s desperate little slut.” Her free hand continued to play with your nipples, her tongue darting out to flick at them between her words. “If I’d known you were this needy I would’ve put a little vibrator in that pretty pussy of yours over dinner, gotten you absolutely drenched… made you keep your cool, try not to come in front of all those important people.” She chuckled again, “then again, you’re probably already soaked, aren’t you kitten?”

Her hand sunk between your legs, cupping at your heat, pressing the flimsy fabric into your pussy as her fingers massaged you. A smirk on her lips when she felt your juices soaking through, her hand pulled away only to spank your cunt and you gasped.

“Mommy please…”

Her fingers pushed your panties to the side, sliding through your folds a few times before she raised her hand, “open.” Your lips parted and she slid her fingers into them, smiling as you obediently closed your mouth to suck on her fingers, “it’s been a while, let me warm you up kitten.” She murmured, leaning forward to kiss across your neck again, “you know how much I love to play with my food before eating it. Love playing with your needy fucking cunt, feeling you squeezing around my fingers until you can’t take it anymore, begging like the whore you are. But you never really want me to stop, do you?” She nipped at your neck again, “because you know I love how sweet you taste, making you come on my tongue. You’re such a cum slut you love tasting yourself on my lips, sucking it off my tongue when you think I’m done with you.”

You couldn’t help but moan around her fingers, the wet patch on your panties practically destroying them as she continued to ruin you with her words.

“But you’re not just a cum slut are you?” She asked, teeth sinking into your chest again, “you’re such a needy whore for cock, you’ll do anything for it, isn’t that right? Just love being stuffed full, cock buried nice and deep inside your drenched cunt, just absolutely wrecked, hmm?” She sat back, eyes darkening with the way your lips were still wrapped around her fingers while you ground down into her lap. “Colour, kitten?”

Your eyes cracked open when she slipped her fingers out of your mouth, “green.” Your lips formed a pout when she didn’t move and a whine escaped your lips, “please… please mommy. I’ve been so good.”

“You have.” Her fingertip tapped the tip of your nose, “and good girls do get rewarded.” Her hands grasped your waist, nudging you off her, “so lie back and take off those pathetic excuse for panties so I can see that needy fucking pussy.”

You quickly shuffled back on the bed, dropping into the pillows as you tugged your underwear down your legs, tossing them to the side. Just as swiftly Heather moved through the room, grabbing a couple of spare towels to lay across the bed and you lifted your hips so she could arrange them properly. Your legs spread as she crawled back onto the bed, her hands ghosting up your thighs, spreading you even more open for her as she settled on her knees between your legs.

“Such a pretty pussy.” She cooed, her thumbs rubbing up your entrance, brushing just against your clit, “you know…if I hadn’t been so patiently waiting for this I think I’d tie you to the bedframe and leave you whining and whimpering until you were such a mess I would have to take care of you.”

“Heather!” You grumbled, your hips rocking down towards her touch.

Lightning fast, her hand shot up, circling around your throat, squeezing harder as she leant toward you, “you know better than that.” She growled, laughing darkly when she caught the way your lips curved up into a grin at the sensation when she squeezed harder.

“Sorry ma’am.”

“That’s what I thought.” Letting go of your neck she patted your jaw, “now… you’ve been doing so much hard work for me, such a good little kitten… you may come whenever you want understood?”

“Yes.” You nodded, sucking your lower lip into your mouth as you looked down at her, “please… please touch me!”

“Alright kitten.” She smirked, “you asked for it.”

Her fingers slid through you once more, smearing your juices around your cunt before two of them sunk into you and you let out a soft moan, your head falling back into the pillows. It was like it was pure muscle memory, just how quickly Heather’s fingers were able to fall into the rhythm that you liked so much, each thrust of her hand earning a breathier moan, pussy fluttering around her fingers already. She twirled her fingers around, bending them ever so slightly so her knuckles brushed across the extra sensitive spot inside you.

“Fuck…” You groaned, feeling yourself get wetter with each pass of her hand.

“Who knew you were this fucking desperate.” She chuckled, her fingers twirling once again so her finger tips could press into the same spot, pulling another gasp from you, “needy little whore’s gonna come in record time.”

Heather picked up the pace that she was fucking you, fingers pulling out more wetness with each flick of her wrist. Her other hand slid up your body, tilting your chin down so two of her fingers could slip into your mouth again, coating them with saliva before she pulled them out, spitting onto your pussy and using her wet fingers to start rubbing at your clit.

“Oh god!” You cried out, “harder please mommy! Oh fuck!”

“That’s it kitten…” she purred, “come for mommy. Let me see how big of a mess you can make.”

She increased the pressure of her hand, tight fast circles rubbed on your clit while the hand inside you pressed longer and harder against your g-spot with each thrust.  Your thighs were already shaking and the sounds coming from your cunt were absolute sin, pleasure soaring through you higher and higher until you felt the coil deep within you burst and your pussy clamped down around Heather’s fingers, a strangled moan leaving your throat as you hit your peak and juices dribbled down your thighs, soaking the towel underneath you.

“Good girl…” her fingers slipped from you, bringing more wetness with them, “you’ve got another one in you, I know it.”

Sinking down to her stomach her hands clasped around your thighs as her mouth wrapped around your dripping cunt. She gave you no time to recover from your first orgasm, clit throbbing, pussy pulsing as her tongue swiped through it. You couldn’t help but moan, each one louder than the last, a string of breathy swears on you lips as the fire very quickly began to build underneath your skin again. Your nipples were hard in the cool air, your hands ghosting across your own body as you began to play with your chest, a shimmer of sweat glistening on your skin in the low light of the room while Heather ate you with expertise. Her nose bumped your clit and you couldn’t help but cry out, your hips jolting up off the bed,

“Fuck!” Your eyes scrunched shut and you pinched at your nipples, “s-so good mommy, feels..s-sooo good.”

Heather’s hands wound tighter around your legs, pinning you to the bed while her mouth continued to move against you, groaning over your taste. One of your hands sunk into her hair, unable to control yourself when her tongue flicked through you again and you couldn’t help but grind against her face, letting out a low moan as the sensations fluttered through you. Her fingers pinched at your skin as a warning and when your hand slightly tugged she pulled away from your cunt, turning her face so her teeth could sink deep into your thigh.

“Shit!” You swore, the pain mixing with pleasure as your thigh throbbed, clit puffy and swollen begging to be touched again.

“Greedy little thing.” She tsk’d, shaking her head at you before her tongue made a torturously slow lick through your pussy, just daring to flick at your clit. “I thought you were a good girl.”

“I am.” You whimpered, your body shaking with need, “please mommy. I’ll be good, I swear.”

“You better.” With a near growl she ducked down to your cunt again, this time lips wrapping around your clit, sucking it into her mouth to trace patterns with her tongue. Two of her slicked fingers came between your legs, sinking into your heat again, matching the tempo of her mouth.

“Oh god! Fuck!”

Your eyes shut even tighter, a glittering of stars behind them as she sucked your juices into her mouth. All you could feel between your legs was wetness and throbbing need, the sounds echoing around the room were pure filth as you begged her for more, begged her to not stop, that you were so close, just a little bit more. You felt like you were about to burst, the fire in your chest, tears in your eyes or cum out of your pussy you weren’t entirely sure. One of Heather’s hands slunk up your body, beginning to pinch and grope at your chest and her lips smirked against your skin at the way your body began to shake, you were putty in her hands and you both knew it.

“Right there.. oh ff-Uck!”

Your hands clawed at the bedsheets, back arching off the bed as your second orgasm hit you, cum leaking out of your pussy. Heather’s hand was soaked, your thighs smeared with your juices as her mouth finally popped off your clit.

“That good, kitten?” She asked with a knowing smirk, wiping her face and fingers on one of the towels.

“More, please.” You whined, chest heaving and she chuckled.

“More?” She raised a brow, “kitten there’s a puddle between your legs and you want more?”

“Want you to come…” you looked up at her with pleading eyes, “wanna feel your pussy.”

“You want to touch?” Her fingers slid into the waistband of her panties, tugging them down her legs, “or you want me get off by grinding on your puffy pussy? You want mommy’s cum smeared all over your messy fucking cunt?”

“Yes!” You cried out, your pussy clenching at the thought already, a gasp leaving your lips when she spanked your cunt.

“Yes to which?”

“Second.”

“Dirty fucking slut. Just so eager to be as naughty as possible, hm?”

She raised a brow at you and all you could do was nod as she manhandled your body into position, turning you half onto your side and pulling up one of your legs, resting it against her shoulder. She dropped herself down onto you, letting out a soft moan at the feeling of your drenched cunt rubbing against hers. She began to rock her hips, smearing your juices together, coating herself with your cum as your eyes fluttered shut again and you were moaning before she even expected it.

“You like that?”

“Mmhmm…”

“Feels good doesn’t it?” She ground down on you harder, “so fucking wet and slick for me, such a good girl.” She pressed down harder, a gasp leaving her lips as her clit dragged over your pussy, “oh god..”

The desire for her own pleasure took priority over continuing to degrade or praise you as she continued to grind her cunt against yours, pleasure tickling under her skin. She could see the way your body was trembling, knowing just how sensitive you could be, it wouldn’t be long until you were coming again, gushing against her. Her free hand moved up her body, toying with her chest as her hips picked up the pace, fire prickling under her skin.

“Fuck.. oh yes…” her head dropped back as her eyes fluttered shut, “just like that…”

You had just enough energy to open your eyes at this point, staring up at her, watching as she rode you, the pool of wetness collecting between your legs growing with each roll of her hips. You felt the coil tightening inside you again, your clit swollen and slippery against her, it was almost too much, your body trembling at how sensitive you’d become.

“Mommy please!”

“Are you close already, you little slut?” She groaned, grinding down harder against you as she moved even faster, “gonna squirt again, make a fucking mess of mommy’s pussy?”

“Mmmhmm.” You nodded, biting down on your lip as hard as you could so the entire floor wouldn’t know what you were up to.

“Let go for me.” This groan was a little louder than the last, her thighs beginning to shake around you as the pleasure electrified her, shooting through her body, just about to burst at the seams. “Come with me, kitten.”

“Fuck!” You couldn’t help the cry, tears nearly prickling in the corners of your eyes as your body shuddered, juices gushing out once more and only a moment later you felt Heather trembling, a loud moan escaping her lips as the pool between your legs got another burst of liquid.

“Fuck…” she muttered, dropping your leg as she sat back on the bed, taking a moment to catch her breath. Her hand soothed up your leg, fingernails digging into the forming mark on your inner thigh, “colour?”

“Green.” You panted back, chest heaving and she laughed darkly.

“Good.”

You let out a gasp, your legs clenching shut around her when she suddenly dove down between your legs once again, her tongue lapping at your slick pussy, sucking and licking as much cum as she could into her mouth. Heather crawled over you, her hand closing around your jaw and you quickly opened your lips wide so she could spit the mixture into your mouth, watching as it pooled on your tongue, slowly dripping down into the back of your throat.

“Good girl.” She tapped your chin, her other hand closing around your neck as you swallowed the liquid down, “now, you still want my cock?”

“Yes, oh god yes.”

“Then roll over, hands on the headboard and don’t you even think of moving them? Understood?”

“Yes mommy.”

Heather surprised you with a new strap, larger than the one she would usually use, stretching you out, fucking you so incredibly deep all you could see were stars. Your knuckles white from clutching at the headboard as tightly as you were. The pillows muffled your cries as she made you come another two times around her cock before finally spilling her cum deep into your pussy, making sure you got every last drop of it before she pulled out. She chose not to torment you, letting you drop to the mattress as she held your hips up, playing with the lube, fingering it back into your heat as you whined. She slipped from the bed, placing the strap in the bathroom to be dealt with later.

“Jesus Christ.” You groaned.

“Satisfied?” She asked with a smirk.

“Very.”

“Good. You better be for the amount of mess you made.”

“I need a shower.” With a wince you pushed up from the bed, stretching out your stiff body, “maybe a Gatorade…”

“Take an extra reward in the morning, charge some room service breakfast to my room, I’ll expense it.”

You cast a look over your shoulder as you gathered your clothes, “it’s a work trip Heather, everything gets expensed…”

“You take the fun out of everything; you know that right?”

“Oh… I’m so sure.”

*

Wednesday:

Heather knocked on the unlocked door between your suites as she moved through it and you glanced up from your spot on the bed where you were working on your laptop.

“I’ve almost got your endorsement emails finished and ready to send out.”

“Good.” She smiled, “but that’s not why I’m here.”

You glanced at the time on your screen, “Heat, it’s barely ten a.m.…and I just showered.”

She laughed, shaking her head at you, “McKnight and Wallace want to barter it out over a game of doubles, I need a partner and we both know Cynthia is so uncoordinated she trips over her own feet walking.”

“You play tennis?”

“What else do you think I do at the country club?”

“Drink, gossip and trash talk?” You offered up and she paused, a chuckle escaping her lips.

“I suppose you’re not wrong. It was always more something of Rob’s interest, but if I’ve got the skill I figure I may use it.”

“You’re lucky I’ve got a good backhand.” Letting out a breath you closed your laptop, slipping off the bed, “but I’ve got to be back by two thirty, Durant booked us in for facials down at the spa.”

Her lips flicked up into a smirk, “play a good game of tennis and that won’t be the only facial you get today.”

“Oh?” You raised a brow.

“What?” She gently pinched at your chin, “we’re here all week, did you really think I’d only bring one flavour of lube? You always look so pretty down on your knees.”

“Focus.” You flicked her palm, “we’ve got a game of tennis to win.”

*

Thursday:

It was time for the excruciatingly boring day. While the week was pretty evenly balanced between meetings and socializing, Thursday was the jam packed schedule of all work. Brunch followed by a morning of assemblies, speaker after speaker droning on about what policies and procedures they thought were best and why everyone else should support them, the changes that should be made.

Lunch was a luxury buffet provided by the hotel, where the mood barely shifted from work as everyone mingled about the room making small talk with those they hadn’t gotten a chance with yet. Cocktails were served, which helped everyone loosen up a little bit and have a little bit more fun than otherwise, so that was the saving grace.

The afternoon was dedicated to the up and comers, a couple of assemblies catering to high school students, those with an interest in politics, debate team, federal jobs and the like. The others with very similar themes (though maybe more specialized) dedicated to university students who were very likely going to end up on the same career path. While the younger students were shuttled back to their schools when everything wrapped, the others were invited to a special cocktail hour to socialize, able to ask various levels of politicians or their teams whatever one on one questions they may have. It was good education for them and a fantastic opportunity for everyone to secure more support and hopefully votes when the time came. While it was mainly a group of people who had their eyes set on the White House, Congress or the Senate, there were also a scattered bunch that weren’t looking for that, rather just in the general field which meant you weren’t lucky enough to escape quite yet.

At the very least you were thankful cocktail hour also included tables and waiters with trays of hors d’oeuvres so you weren’t left completely starving until dinner. Heather managed to track you down while you were finishing up a chat with a couple of very promising looking up and comers, passing off both yours and her business cards, telling them to email to set up an appointment whenever they happened to be in D.C.

“Bored yet?” She asked with a tease, plucking a drink off a nearby station before handing the server a twenty.

“On the contrary, having the time of my fucking life.” You replied dryly and she chuckled, her eyes surveying the room and you watched as her gaze settled in on something and her brow raised. “Huh..”

“What?” You asked, not even bothering to find out where she was looking.

“Looks like Jackie’s just about finished up her day. I should send you over with a drink.”

“What?” You laughed, “are you pimping me out now?”

“No,” she swatted at your arm, “but it would be a shame if she had to leave alone. And I did miss out on a rather fun night, the opportunity just happens to be presenting itself.”

“You are insatiable…”

“You love it.” She smirked over the rim of her glass and you huffed.

“I’m exhausted. I’d love it if there was at least one night you would just let me sleep. It’s no wonder you have to keep multiple sugar babies around to stay satisfied.” Finishing your drink you placed it down on an empty table, “I want to go upstairs, put on pyjamas and order room service.”

“You’re no fun.” She scoffed.

“Then go have yours.” You laughed.

“I’m not going to fuck her alone.” She muttered, “c’mon, just one drink, we’ll go down to the beach bar that has the good mojitos.”

“One drink.” You reluctantly agreed, “there is a pizza with my name on it.”

*

Friday:

At the very least, Heather let you sleep in today, which you were incredibly thankful for. You got a late morning workout in, swung by the café to grab a bite to eat before heading out on something that was a mix of a pub crawl and an afternoon of meetings. The group bopped around all of the hotels in the area, taking in the sites, learning about the amenities and bonuses that each location had while enjoying a drink and a few appetizers at each location. The trip extended outside the resort area as you were shown a few of the cities main attractions while you continued to rub elbows and play politics.

Returning back to the hotel you were happy to retreat to your empty room, enjoying the air conditioning for a bit while you drafted up a couple of things. Once satisfied, you knew you only had a couple days of sunshine left before heading back to the dreary Washington weather and figured you should probably take advantage of the private terrace. You changed into your bikini, grabbed a couple of books and draped across one of the loungers on your stomach.

It was only when you jolted awake to something cold dripping onto your back that you realized you’d fallen asleep. Heather’s hand soothed up your back a moment later,

“Can’t have you burning.” She muttered, “how long have you been out here?”

You glanced at your watch, “couple hours.” You let out a gentle groan when her thumb dug into your shoulder blade, “you sure that’s sunscreen?”

“If it was lube I wouldn’t be rubbing your shoulders, that’s for sure.” She chuckled, wiping off any of the excess on a spare towel before her hands slid up the back of your thighs, just daring to grope at your ass, “but if that’s something you’re interested in I’m sure it could be arranged.” Her fingers began toying with the strings of your suit, “first you’ve got to roll over for me though. I know Tony wouldn’t suggest a new suit unless your tits looked spectacular.”

Rolling your eyes as you laughed you rolled over onto your back, pushing yourself up to sitting so you were on display for the other woman, “happy?”

“Mmm. That man has fantastic taste.” She tugged at the straps, letting the triangles of fabric fall from your skin, “now let’s get you inside before anyone overhears you…”

*

Saturday:

A morning yoga class with Jackie before lounging on the beach to start your day off, trying to take advantage of the sunshine and ocean air before the humidity hit and it was simply too hot to be in the direct sun. You only briefly parted ways, picking up lunch on your way back to your room to eat while you finalized a few more work things before jumping in the shower.

Just before dinner time you were headed down to the docks, the final item on your agenda of the day being a party on the very large and luxurious yacht of the Florida governor. Cocktails, beer and liquor were plentiful, appetizers on trays of wandering servers while everyone got relaxed and chatting. Dinner would be served at eight, succulent plates of surf and turf, including freshly caught seafood while wine was refilled, a glass never empty the entire evening.

It was much more party centered than anything else that week, people getting comfortable, letting loose, secrets quietly spilling from lips as the sun sunk in the sky. A sense of playfulness drifted over the boat, wine changed into hard liquor and shots, small talk began to edge the line of dirty talk while people began to disappear to different decks or down small hallways.

Heather found you returning from the bathroom, stepping out onto one of the side decks for some fresh air. A moment after resting on the railing her hands were on either side of you and a shiver ran down your spine as her lips pressed into your skin.

“I just know there’s a gorgeous set of lace underneath this dress and I am absolutely dying to see it.” Her teeth nipped at your neck, “you wouldn’t deprive mommy of that would you? It is our last night after all.”

You let out a soft moan, turning so your back was resting against the railing, “when did they say they we’re docking next?”

“Ten forty five.”

“Enough time for one more drink then.” With a smirk you moved around her, a sway to your hips that had her eyes glued on your ass as you wandered back towards the bar.

______________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak @soverign @v3nusxsky @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @supercorpstan97 @asolitaryrose3 @lisqueen @mrs-prentiss @whitewinewithice @d33pd3sire-blog @daffodil-heart @maximoffcarter @i-lovefandom @chimnlex @moonlightjxuregui @chestnutninny @gamma-rae-bursts @just-moondust @idkifimasub @gaydragonwitch @dowsedwithbleach @divergentalwaysandforever-blog

[org4n-failur3]

The Dylann Roof case- In Depth

I DO NOT SUPPORT. THIS IS INFORMATIONAL!

Pls reblog incase I get trmed!

Dylann was born April 3rd 1994 to mother Amelia and father Franklin with 2 sisters Amber and Morgan. During early childhood his parents would divorce and his father would later remarry. His stepmother accused his father of abüse. He would beg his step mother to let him live with her but she wasn’t able to. Dylann would be described to have obsessive compulsive tendencies with germs. In middle school he would stop caring about school and started smoking weed and drinking vodka. In nine years he would have attended seven schools. In 2010 he would drop out of Highschool and continue playing video games and smoking weed and drinking.

In 2015 he was caught with an invalid prescription for suboxone at a mall to which he was banned from for a year. Later that year he was caught loitering in the mall to which they searched his car finding a forearm grip for a AR-15 semiautomatic rifle and six unloaded magazines capable of holding 40 rounds each but was let off it was legal in the state. Roofs Suboxone charge was mishandled and a system error took it as a misdemeanour instead of a felony. Which would have possibly prohibited him from purchasing the firearm.

Later Dylann would look into the Trayvon Martin case and from an unknown article concluded Zimmerman was in the right. He then fell down a rabbit hole of black on white crime and misinformation. He then found 4chan and would find even more misinformation and hard right ideologies Dylann states he hasn’t been the same since that day. Which leads to his manifesto titled ‘The last Rhodesian’ Rhodesia being the African state founded in 1965 ran by primary Europeans and a white supr3macy ideology before being abolished in 1979. The term now sticks with white supremac!sts like Dylann had became, as he also used the flag on his jacket. In preparation before the attack he looked up black churches and found the Emanuel Methodist Episcopal Church and would scout the area and ask around about mass times.

June 15th 2015 somewhere around 8:00pm Dylann entered the church, once he did he was greeted by Rev.Pinckney and given a bible to study with. Roof was sat next to Pinckney as the study continued. As the study closed and the ending pray started Roof stood up and pulled out his Gl0ck 41 .45 calibre handgûn and began sh00ting. Killing Pinckney first. Then 26 year old Tywanza Sanders stood up to plead with Dylann before he said ‘I have to do it. You r4p3 our women and you’re taking over our country and you have to go’ he then wh0re and k!lled Sharonda Singleton, Dr. Daniel L. Simmons, Ethel Lee Lance, Cynthia Hurd, Myra Tompson and Tywanza Sanders. Dylann would reload 5 times that day. Polly Shepherd was spared when he asked her if he shot her yet to which she replied no he then told her ‘good cause we need someone to survive because I’m gonna sh00t myself and you’ll be the only survivor. He then turned the gûn on himself realizing he was out of ammo. He then left the church to the surprise there wasn’t anyone outside. The next day the police confirmed the gûnman was 21 year old Dylann Roof with witnesses reporting they saw him drive towards Shelby, a town close to Charleston. At 10:44am Roof was arrested at a traffic stop in Shelby where it was then confirmed he worked alone.

Five days after the sh00ting the grand jury announced that Roof was being indicted for 33 federal charges.

12 counts hate crime against black people

12 counts obstructing the exercise of religion

9 counts mûrd3r using a firearm.

On June 6th Roof reportedly did not want to be trialed by jury and instead let the judge decide if he was guilty and if the d3ath penalty was reasonable. August 23rd Roofs lawyers called the motion of d3ath penalty unconstitutional and asked to reject the motion. On September 1st an on camera hearing was held in case of outbursts. December 7th 2016 the trial started. During a survivor statement Roofs mom collapsed as she had a heart attack. After 3 days of the trial FBI played a video on which he admitted to laughing and drinking while describing to friends how he’d sh00t the church. To which his friend didn’t report to police and said he was drunk and took his keys and gl0ck that was on him. After 2 hours the jury found him guilty on all 33 charges. Roof wanting to plead guilty but told not to by lawyers.

January 10th 2027 Roof was sentenced to d3ath penalty, and d3ath by lethal injection.

-

NOTE: if I get anything wrong please tell me! This was from an old project I had.

-Vivi

[roxanneslosteyes]

I had to do this old meme

Francis: "Hey Angus? do you have anything to drink?"

Angus: "Yeah, in the fridge."

Cynthia: "Hey Francis, Can you get me a glass of malk?"

Francis: "We don't have any malk but we do have milk."

Angus: "That's what she said."

Francis: "No no no, You are saying malk like it's a disease."

*Angus laughs*

Angus: "How do you say it?"

Francis: "I'm saying it the way everyone ought to say it milk. M.I.L.K."

Angus: "Right, like 2%"

Cynthia: "Right, whole malk."

Francis: "No no no no, Say milkshake."

Cynthia: "Milkshake"

Francis: "Okay, now say Milk."

Cynthia: "...malk..."

Francis: "....."

Francis: "Angus are you hearing this?"

Angus: "Yeah, the gal wants a glass of mulk."

Francis: "Mulk?..."

Angus: "GIVE HER THE MULK FRANCIS!!"

Nacha: "Angus, inside voices please."

Angus: "Sorry Nacha. My dead end jobs friends..."

Cynthia: "FRANCIS! POUR ME A GLASS OF MALK!"

Francis: "Why are you telling at me?..."

Angus: "Just give her the freaking mulk!"

Francis: "You two aren't even saying the same thing!"

Cynthia: "We are all saying malk, Francis!"

Francis: "No! You are saying malk! You're saying-"

Angus: "MULK!"

Cynthia: "MALK!"

Francis: "SHUT UP! SHUT UP!"

*Francis sighs*

Francis: "I need new friends..."

[jbaileyfansite]

The Wall Street Journal Interview (2024)

The 36-year-old English actor Jonathan Bailey is one of Hollywood’s newest heartthrobs. From Shonda Rhimes's Regency-era courtship dramas of “Bridgerton” to the decades-long romantic-political saga of “Fellow Travelers” to the Met Gala red carpet, he has earned admirers with his goofy charm and deep looks of longing.“

Being acknowledged as a heartthrob is incredibly flattering,” Bailey said. “It’s a big compliment, not just to you as an actor but everything around you.”

It has been a life-changing few years for Bailey, a stage actor turned screen darling. After “Bridgerton” launched him to global fame, he wrote up a document with tips to help prepare his younger castmates for the attention their on-screen romances would earn. “I think it’s about how to approach the work in a way that allows you to feel yourself and grounded,” he said.

Bailey, who’s been acting since he was a child in the Royal Shakespeare Company, reprises the role of Anthony in the third season of “Bridgerton” this month. Later this year, he’ll appear as Fiyero in the film adaptation of “Wicked” with Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo. He lives outside of London. Here, he talks about his favorite tea, doing gymnastics and the advice he got from Sir Ian McKellen.

What time do you get up on Mondays, and what’s the first thing you do after waking up?

I try to get up between 7 and 8. Then I try to not look at my phone, which sometimes works and sometimes doesn’t. If it’s a good day, I drink loads of water, have a bath and then just get out because I need to get outside. I’ll go for a walk, always with my headphones. If I feel a bit excited or my brain’s sort of alive, I’ll listen to a podcast because that keeps me quite calm. If not, I’ll listen to some drums and bass. 

How do you like your coffee? 

I love tea. Earl Grey tea for me. I love coffee as well.

What do you do for exercise?

I’m currently training for a half marathon. Then I do gymnastics at a local gym with loads of lovely, brilliant people. I’m part of that community, which I’m very proud of. I do handstands.

How long can you hold a handstand for?

I’ve gotten up to a minute. 

Do you meditate or journal or otherwise practice mindfulness?

Walking outside is meditation to me. There was a Buddhist center I loved when I was living in London, and I’d go there regularly to learn the practice of meditation. I believe in taking bits and bobs that work for you. I do write stuff down in a book that I carry with me, lessen the load in the brain when I can. 

Do you have any hobbies or habits that might surprise your fans? 

Probably playing loud music and dancing around naked. 

“Fellow Travelers” follows your character, Tim, as he falls for Matt Bomer’s Hawk over the course of several decades, from 1950s McCarthyism to the AIDS crisis in the 1980s. How did you get into character? 

With Tim, I felt like there was so much understanding that was in my bones already just from being me. Understanding the character who you’re playing opposite is also really good. Me and Matt, we didn’t really talk about it but we had that understanding of the experience of what these queer, gay people were experiencing.

Beyond that, I think about my forefathers and what an incredible opportunity it was to an academic, hands-on research of gay life in America. As a Brit, there was so much to learn, so the preparation was kind of nerdy in that respect. In another, it was incredibly emotional and spiritual. 

You’ve become very famous for the looks of longing that you’ve perfected. Do you practice them in the mirror?

No, unfortunately, I probably practiced them in real life all the way through my childhood. It’s funny, isn’t it? I can totally understand why people say that, but I think maybe what fascinates me most about humans is there’s always a distance between what you want and what you have and who you are and who you want to be. I mean, if I’m still longing and 92 years old, then I’m going to be very happy. 

How did you prepare to model swimwear for Orlebar Brown? Was there any part of you that was nervous? 

I had been doing gymnastics, so the swimsuit-model aspect of it required a couple of weeks of doing more handstandy stuff. But no, I was excited. 

There were some cute photos of you and Ariana Grande released from the set of “Wicked.” Do you have any favorite memories from filming? 

I went to CinemaCon and it was the launch of all of us together. I watched the trailer for the first time, I’m so glad I waited to see it in the big cinema. I just watched Cynthia [Erivo] and I was, like, God, Cynthia’s just going to blow everyone’s mind. You care so much about her in it. And Ari redefines Glinda in a really fun way, it just expands. 

There’s so much love for the original material. It was really fun and silly and great. Jon M. Chu [the director] just mines the emotion and is quite sincere about the truth of what’s going on with the characters.

What’s your most prized possession?

My headphones. If I lose them, I feel crazy. But also in 2017—I saved up and it felt incredibly frivolous—I started collecting the Yves Saint Laurent love prints, the original prints of the years that my sisters were born because there are four of us. Annoying actually, one of my sisters was born in 1982, and I don’t think there is a print for that year, so I might have to do a stickman or something. 

What’s one piece of advice you’ve gotten that’s guided you? 

Always do theater. That was actually from Ian McKellen. It’s in my bones anyway.

Source

[sissylittlefeather]

How the Web Was Woven: Chapter 14

A/N: I told y'all this one would be coming quickly. I can't let my babies be unhappy for too long. ICYMI: this is the soulmate/time travel AU between Elvis and a fem!reader. We pick up in 2023/1973 in a rather tense moment.

Much love always to @ccab for loving me and loving what I write. You's mah best frend.

Need to catch up? Here's my Masterlist.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, angst, alcohol use, cussing, a car accident, injury, hospital, and then the good stuff, kissing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, I think that's everything.

Word count: ~3.4K

You sit on the couch staring at each other waiting for his answer.

******

You sit in silence for a few minutes before you can't stand it anymore.

"Elvis? Did you move on?"

"I don't know."

You feel like someone stabbed you in the heart and you struggle to breathe.

"I need... something... I just... I'll be right back." You get up, grab your purse, and stumble to the door of the suite. The kids will be safe with him and your mom.

"Y/n, wait!" You hear him as you close the door quickly behind you. When you get to the lobby, there's nowhere for you to go. Instead, you head to the bar and order a glass of wine. You try to sip it slowly, but it doesn't last long, so you order another.

Back in the suite, your mom comes into the living room to find Elvis on the couch with his head in his hands.

"John?" She says it gently, trying not to startle him. He sniffs and wipes his eyes and looks up at her.

"Oh, Cynthia, I'm sorry. Did we bother you?"

"Not at all. She left, didn't she?" He nods. She sits next to him on the couch. "Do you know where she went?"

"I have an idea."

"Then why are you still sitting here?" He looks over at her suddenly.

"I really don't know." He stands up and heads towards the door. He turns back when he reaches it. "You'll-"

"I got the kids. Go."

"Thank you." He walks out the door and makes his way to the lobby.

He was right about where you would be. You're still at the bar nursing your third glass of wine. He walks up next to you and pulls out the chair.

"Anybody sitting here?" You smile a little before responding.

"No, but my husband is the jealous type." Then you look down at your drink. "Or, at least, he used to be."

"He still is." He sits next to you at the bar and you scoff. "Hey. Don't be like that."

"Like what? Like my husband doesn't love me anymore?" You drain your glass and gesture to the bartender that you want another. He can't help but be reminded of the party you went to together in 2010 and it breaks his heart.

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't not say that." He sighs deeply.

"Honey, can we just try to be happy? For the kids?" The bartender brings you your glass of wine and you turn and look at him.

"Why don't we just make a portal and send you home to Linda?"

"How do you...? Right. No, I want to spend more time with the kids."

"That's fair. I'll be nice. Then we'll get you back to your girlfriend."

"Y/n..."

"No, you know what. Don't." You take your ring off of your finger and set it on the bar in front of him. "Here. Give her that."

You drain your glass and stand up, but you've just pounded a whole bottle of wine in less than an hour, so you stumble a little and he catches you. He grabs your ring off the bar and then steadies you as you try to walk. You pull away from him and try to stand on your own.

"I'm fine. I don't need you to save me. I do things by myself all the time. Who needs a husband?"

"Y/n, you're drunk. Please let me help you." Without warning, you start to cry. He lifts you into his arms like a baby and flashes back to all the other times he's carried you like this before: when you were sad and drunk in college, when you and he finally made it home in the snowstorm, and when he carried you across the threshold of your Vegas honeymoon suite. How did you get here from there?

You cry against his chest as he takes you back up to the room. Inside the suite, your mom has gone to bed. He takes you to the room you're intended to share and settles you in the bed, removing your shoes gently. When he goes to leave and sleep on the couch, you grab his hand.

"Stay with me. Please." He's not sure if you mean tonight or forever.

"Oh, honey, I-"

"Please."

"Okay." He takes his shoes off and lays down on the other side of you. His heart feels like it's in a vice and it takes him a long time to go to sleep, even with you snoring quietly beside him.

******

The next morning, you wake up tucked up under his chin with his arm around you, just like the first night you stayed together. But this time, when you wake up, you pull away and get out of the bed. You hear the kids in the living area with your mom, so you make your way in there to them. Your mom brings you a glass of water and you sit down on the couch. John Jessie immediately asks about his dad, so you send both kids in there to wake him up. The laughter that spills from the room when they do makes you want to cry all over again.

"I'm taking the kids today." You turn to your mom.

"What? No. He's here to see them. We should let them be together."

"There's plenty of time for that tomorrow. You two need a day."

"No, mom, we really don't."

"Yes. I'd give anything for another day with your dad. I'm not letting you throw this away. Not without trying. I'm taking the kids."

And she does. She takes them to the beach and promises to be gone until dinner time. You and Elvis just stare at each other in silence.

"Do you need fried potatoes?" He knows you and how you deal with a hangover.

"Yeah, I really do."

"Come on." You head downstairs together to your rental car in silence. He agrees to drive, as always, and you head to a breakfast place you've found on your phone. As you ride, he pulls your ring out of his pocket.

"Put this back on your finger." You hear the edge to his voice and it irritates you. What does he have to be angry about?

"And if I say no?"

"Y/n, I'm not asking."

"Why the fuck would I put that back on?"

"Because you're my goddamn wife!"

"Am I?! Because you don't seem to want me to be!" He turns and looks at you and you can feel the rage rolling off of him.

"PUT THE FUCKING RING ON YOUR FINGER."

"FUCK YOU ELVIS."

"FUCK ME? FUCK ME?! I-"

He doesn't get anything else out though because he's taken his eyes off the road and completely misses the red light. The other car collides with yours on your side and you skid across the intersection as the sickening crunch of metal on metal rings through you both. Time seems to slow down as you're thrown around inside the vehicle. Everything goes black.

******

When Elvis comes to, someone else has called 911 and the emergency personnel move around quickly, hollering to each other as they work.

"Sir? He's regained consciousness." He's strapped to a gurney and they're loading him into an ambulance. When he realizes what's happened, he immediately tries to sit up.

"My wife-"

"They're extracting her from the car. They'll meet us at the hospital." He tries to get off the gurney.

"No. I'm not leaving her. Extract her? Is she okay?"

"Sir, calm down-"

"Calm down?! WHERE IS MY WIFE?!" They close the doors to the ambulance and give him an injection of something to calm him down. He drifts off into a kind of twilight sleep again.

The next time he wakes up, he's in the hospital. He sits up suddenly and goes to get out of the bed. The nurses rush in to settle him, but he won't be settled. He yells at anyone who will listen that he needs to find you.

Finally, the doctor comes in as he's trying to rip his IV out.

"Mr. Burrows, you have to stop. We will take you to your wife, but you need to calm down first." He sits down on the edge of the bed breathing heavily.

"Where is she?"

"She's been admitted."

"Admitted? No. That means-"

"They're running some tests right now, but she still hasn't woken up."

"No. No no no." He collapses on his knees beside the bed and weeps. The doctor is deeply affected, but helps him back onto the bed. He has the nurses remove Elvis's IV and monitors and helps him get dressed.

"Let's go see her." Elvis nods weakly and the doctor leads him to your room.

When he sees you in the bed, he falls to his knees again and rocks back and forth crying. The doctor helps him into the chair next to your bed. Elvis holds your hand and presses it to his lips.

"God, honey, I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry. Please wake up." You don't, not yet, but he wills you to open your eyes.

The doctor has seen a lot of trauma and a lot of broken husbands. But something about the way Elvis weeps hits him differently. He leaves you alone together.

"Please, honey." Elvis kisses your hand over and over, begging you to wake up. "I can't do this without you. God, I love you so much. Please don't leave me."

You lay in the bed not moving with the monitors beeping quietly. And he sits beside you, praying desperately to God that you wake up soon.

******

Elvis calls your mom to check on the kids and let her know what's happened. She's dying to come to you, but she knows someone has to watch the kids and he's in no position to do it. Besides, there's no way he'd ever leave you.

The doctor eventually comes back with the results of your tests. You have a very small brain bleed that they're hoping will resolve itself soon. They're not exactly sure why you haven't woken up yet. Elvis assumes it's his fault and spends the hours while you sleep beating himself up for hurting you, both physically and emotionally. There's not a single doubt in his mind anymore that he loves you and wants to be married to you. Almost losing you is killing him and he wants nothing more than to take you in his arms and love you the way he always has. He stays by your side through the rest of the day, not even leaving to eat, and settles in for a night watch.

Finally, around 3:30am, you stir a little. He sits up and watches you carefully. Your eyes flutter open and he's overwhelmed with emotion.

"Elvis?" You whisper quietly.

"Oh God, y/n, I-"

"Shhh... it's okay."

"No it's not, honey. It's not okay at all. I'm so sorry. For everything."

"This wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was, but I mean even more than that." He kisses the back of your hand again. "I love you so much, baby. I love you with all of me and I can't believe I ever thought I could be without you."

He moves a piece of your hair off of your face and runs his fingertips down the side of your cheek.

"You still love me?" You ask quietly, voice quavering.

"God, honey, yes. You are the love of my life." You smile, your eyes watery, and nod gently. He climbs into the bed next to you and holds you close to him.

"I'm yours, y/n. Forever."

******

They release you from the hospital a couple of days later with instructions to rest for three weeks before you fly home. You obviously can't afford to stay in the hotel for three weeks, so you find some small bungalows on the beach and rent one for you and Elvis and one for your mom and the kids. The doctor said you need to rest, so he recommends the kids stay with your mom, especially in the beginning.

Elvis is the perfect caretaker. He keeps you fed and hydrated and entertained and makes you sleep and rest to heal.

At the end of the first week, you find yourselves on the couch together. He's watching a movie on tv and you're scrolling on your phone. You roll over a sexy edit of Elvis on Instagram and accidentally turn the sound on. The song is dirty and it gets his attention before you can mute it.

"Honey, what are you watching?"

"Nothing!" You answer quickly, really hoping he doesn't press the issue. But he can tell you're hiding something and the curiosity gets the better of him.

"What is it? Just show me." You get a strange look on your face and now he's determined to see what you were looking at.

"No!" You giggle and he crawls toward you on the couch. "No! No!"

You try to push him away with your feet and he moves them out of the way to crawl between them and up your body to reach for your phone. He's on top of you now, trying to grab your phone. You move it around over your head and try to use your other hand to keep him from getting it. In the process of moving your phone out of his reach, you turn the sound up and accidentally click on the edit again. The song plays and when you bring your phone back down to turn it off, he snatches it and looks at the screen, still in his position between your legs.

It's a sexy edit of him shirtless and wet in the movie Fun in Acapulco. You bury your face in your hands and blush a deep red. He watches it and then looks at you surprised. Then, he busts out laughing and looks back at the phone.

"Is this what you're into, honey? I guess I should be glad it's me."

"Oh my goddddddd." You want to melt into the couch.

"Mike Windgren, though? That movie is terrible. Honey, what is this?"

"It's a TikTok." You answer from behind your hands.

"Are they all videos of Mike?" You pop your face up and laugh.

"Oh, no! They have them for all of your movie characters. And just for, like, you..."

"I wanna see."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do! Show me!" You reluctantly open TikTok and go to your saved videos. You hand him your phone and cover your face again. He scrolls through them and laughs. A few of them make him blush, though. He stumbles upon one of him from the Aloha concert and is amazed. You realize what's happening and try to wrestle the phone back away from him. He holds you at arms length and laughs while you play fight your way up him. Eventually, he stands up and holds the phone behind his back. You stand up and face him.

"Honey, you know, you don't have to watch those. I'm right here. You could just turn on some sexy music and look at me."

"Oh, shut up!" You say, blushing. But then you look up at him. And he looks down at you, energy gathering in the space between your bodies. He puts his hand on the side of your face and runs his thumb over your lips. You can tell he wants to kiss you, but it's been so long that he's not sure if he can. Slowly, he leans in and presses his lips to yours. He might look older than the first time, but his kiss is the same and you melt into him like butter.

You walk backwards to your bedroom, shedding clothing as you go, mouths still smashed together. When you get to the bed, you're both naked, but before he lays you down, he steps back and looks at you. He reaches a hand out to caress your breast and run his thumb over your nipple.

"God, y/n, you're such a beautiful woman."

"I figured I was getting too old for you."

"Never."

"I wasn't even sure you wanted me anymore. Not like this."

"Honey, I will always want you." With that, he lays you down on the bed gently and begins to explore your body with his mouth. You've done it so many times, but something about this feels new and sacred. He kisses every part of you and the sensation of his hot mouth on your skin makes you drip with need.

He finally makes his way to your center and presses a kiss to you between your legs. Then, he begins to move his tongue on you just how he knows you like it. He could be with a thousand women and still remember your body and the way you taste and feel. This is everything you've both been missing and he licks you like his life depends on it. The overwhelming sensation of pleasure courses through you as he moves his tongue over and around your sensitive bud. He slides a finger into you and feels how your body reacts. Suddenly, everything else melts away and there's only you and him and the love he's making to you. You feel the coil of your orgasm tightening and know you won't last much longer. He can tell you're close too and he ramps up the movements of his tongue. Finally, the dam breaks and your release rushes through you in wave after wave of ecstasy. He tongues you through the high and when you come back down he pulls away sighing.

"I love the way you feel when you come, baby."

"Mmmm... now it's your turn." You respond breathlessly. He climbs up your body and lines himself up with your entrance, teasing you with his tip.

"I've waited so long to make love to you, y/n." He pushes into you slowly, letting you feel every inch of his cock. A soft moan escapes your lips and he groans. "The sounds you make... mmmm baby, you make me crazy."

He starts to slide in and out of you in a gentle rhythm, hitting all the best places inside you, kissing your neck sensually. He moves gracefully on top of you and you want to cry it feels so good.

"I've missed you so much, baby." He sets his head on your shoulder as he fucks you in the gentlest way you've experienced since the night he proposed. This feels like a kind of renewal of your vows and he moans into your mouth as he kisses you deeply.

He starts to thrust a little faster, but never changes the gentle pattern of sliding in and out of you. Your walls begin to flutter around him and he groans, knowing that the end is coming for both of you. He fills you fully with each movement as his speed increases.

"Fuck, Elvis, it's so good."

"It is, baby, it really is." He rolls you over on your side and positions your leg over his hip. The gentle thrusting doesn't change, but the intimacy seems to increase as he looks into your eyes and peppers you with kisses. His cock slides in and out rhythmically and he grunts with the nearness of his climax. He whispers between kisses as he pushes in and out.

"I love you, y/n. This is a new beginning for us. And I'm making a promise to you. I will never question us ever again. You are the one who my soul loves. We are everything."

He thrusts gently a few more times as he holds your hip and moves ever closer to his release. The tears that slide down your cheeks are happy ones and you press your forehead to his and he whispers again.

"I belong to you and you alone, y/n." He kisses you passionately and pushes into you one more time.

"God, yes, Elvis!" You cry out as you tumble together into the sea of your orgasm, the waves crashing over you in a tender expression of your love. He holds you there shuddering and pumping weakly until he comes back down to earth. You lay there looking at each other, basking in the rediscovery of your love.

"I will love you until the end of time. And if you're ever gone again, I will wait for you." You put your hand on his cheek and kiss the end of his nose, unable to speak, but the vulnerable gesture says everything you'd say with words.

You lay there together for a long time, just taking each other in and reveling in the shared pleasure of the experience.

A portal appears and you don't even acknowledge it. You're both too wrapped in the web of each other to notice anything beyond the boundaries of your intertwined bodies.

******

Until next time...

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @rosepresley68 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @that-hotdog @eddiesgirlforever @helen06dreamer @returntopresley @rjmartin11 @noirrose21-blog @tacozebra051 @deltafalax

[gurugirl]

Tell Me You Hate Me*

Summary: Based on this request - You and Harry work together as bartenders and your relationship is hot and cold which infuriates you to no end. But you can't say you don't find him attractive, regardless of his cocky attitude.

A/n: I have never written anything like this before so please give it some love and keep an open mind! This is harry x male!reader/ enemies to lovers and I had a lot of fun writing this one. Thanks for the idea 🐊 anon!

12k+ words

Warning: Smut, angst, mentions of an accident, a little bit of forceful & unwanted attention/flirting (not from reader or Harry), mentions of smoking weed

✻✻✻✻

You couldn't stand Harry most days. He was a cocky asshole and he didn't care about anyone but himself. You both worked the same shift at the local bar in town, Reggie’s, and so you'd gotten to know Harry by default. And when a couple of patrons were making some joke about you liking guys, Harry shut them down quickly and it left you confused because you didn't think he gave a shit.

But he was still a cocky asshole. It didn't change his personality or anything. However, you did find a small warm spot for him after that day.

And tonight, he was either leading you on or genuinely flirting with you. You couldn't tell actually. At first, it seemed genuine. You were at an after-work party for the employees at Reggie’s. The boss had hit a milestone and so he invited all of his employees (and you were sure some of his neighbors as well) to his house for a night of partying as thanks for all the hard work. And from the moment you arrived, Harry began complimenting you. Then when he cornered you in the living room, he stood close and you saw his eyes travel down your body before he lightly pinched your arm, winked, and walked away.

When you found him again a little later he asked you to join him to get a drink in the kitchen. He was standing close again, leaning in to make sure you could hear him. Told you that you smelled good. Licked his lips while he watched your mouth when you responded. Touched your arm and your chest. Your limbs heated up and the hair on your arms raised after he brushed his hand on your skin. You kind of thought it might go somewhere but you were both pulled away from one another when Harry was called over to join a game of beer-pong and Cynthia from work was going through a mini-crisis and needed your advice.

And then as the house was clearing out and most people were gone, you went upstairs to get your backpack (which was where everyone had put their stuff at your boss’s directions). You hadn't seen Harry for nearly an hour and assumed he'd left already.

But you were wrong.

The moment you opened the door to the bedroom there he was, pants pulled down with a girl between his legs sucking him off. You were stunned at first, paused mid-movement when you locked eyes with him.

The cocky smirk on his face made you feel hot but it was Harry's words as he stared back at you that had you feeling frustrated and angry even. And maybe the tiniest bit turned on. Just the tiniest bit.

"You like that don't you?" He breathed his words out as he put his hand on the back of the girl's head and you heard her hum affirmatively.

"Yeah? So fucking hot isn't it? My big cock getting sucked on..." Harry's smile was infuriating. You swallowed hard, trying to move but you were frozen as if his eyes on you had some kind of magic spell that kept you from motion.

Harry leaned back a little further and the girl worked harder, "I'm gonna come if you keep doing that..." his deep breathy voice had you tingling. Was he talking to you? Why was he looking at you when he spoke?

The girl gurgled and shifted on her knees. She still didn't know you were standing there and Harry didn't bother to notify her either.

"That's it... just enjoy it..." he groaned as his eyes got droopier, but he continued looking at you, "yess... don't stop. M'gonna come now, keep looking at me like that..." his moaned words were clear and the girl grunted and stopped what she was doing, popped her mouth off of Harry's cock and looked up at him.

"But I wasn't looking at you..." Harry laughed and took the back of her head, pushing her back down on him.

He turned his eyes back to you, "That's okay... just keep doing what you're doing."

You snapped out of it and blinked, shooting your eyes around the room, and spotted your backpack. You couldn't leave without the backpack because your keys were inside. If you walked past Harry to grab your bag the girl would know you were there but you had no choice. You. couldn't just stand there and watch Harry get head while he stared at you.

So you took a deep breath and broke the spell of Harry’s gaze and walked past the threshold of the door and grabbed your bag. The girl stopped what she was doing with wide eyes and gasped, covering her mouth.

"Sorry!" You spoke quickly but the girl hopped up and ran from the room in embarrassment. Poor thing.

Harry laughed and tilted his head to the side and nodded toward his cock, which was a very pretty cock by the way, "Want to finish me off?"

You shook your head as you muttered, disgusting, and left the room as quickly as possible. What an asshole. The way he'd just treated that girl (and you) was awful. You hurried down the stairs and shook your head. As hot as he was, he was a cocky asshole and that was the truth.

You pulled your backpack straps over your shoulders and hastened your steps away from the house. You had planned on getting an Uber but you were so flustered and upset over everything that had just happened, you figured a brisk walk would be better.

You cursed to yourself as you remembered the way he made you feel earlier in the evening. His subtle flirting and soft touches… you started to think a little differently of him, fondly even. But then that last little stunt had you feeling angry and disappointed even. Disappointed in yourself for thinking Harry was actually flirting with you. Maybe even disappointed that Harry was still the Harry you knew he was. Just a cocky asshole.

On Friday night the bar was packed. Guests filled the bar stools and tables, and Harry was nowhere to be seen. He was late for his shift. Again. It wasn’t too uncommon to have to deal with Harry being late. But on a busy Friday night? That was unusual. He was always on time when it was a busy night.

You did your best to man the bar by yourself while Cynthia and Joe served the tables and busted them between guests. Normally it was you and Harry at the bar serving the drinks and manning the cash registers. You felt your anger for Harry build with every minute that he was late.

Finally, an hour after his shift began, Harry trudged through the door with his hair pulled back in a messy bun, dark circles under his eyes, and he smelled. It was as if he hadn’t showered or bothered to make himself look presentable. You could still admit he was hot but your hatred for him at that moment overrode your hormones.

Harry walked into the back room to clock in as you uncapped two beers and handed them to the girls sitting at the end of the bar. The two girls were young. They were ID’d right away because you weren’t going to get into trouble for them being underage. But their IDs said they were 21. You’d keep an eye on them, though. They even acted very immaturely. It was normal for people to get a bit tipsy, loud, and flirty… it was part of the atmosphere of being at a bar late at night. But these two were obnoxious. In fact, they were attempting to flirt with you. Unfortunately for them, you weren’t into females. But they didn’t need to know that. If you had to suffer through their annoying screeching laughter and attempts at hitting on you, you’d deal with it if they gave you a good tip at the end of the night. You could only hope.

Harry joined you behind the bar and began getting to work right away. He served a few drinks, used a rag to wipe up the condensation and spills on the bar top, and tucked the rag into his back pocket as he went to the register to add the order to his guest’s tab. You hated that he was so fucking good-looking. His tight black jeans hugged his thighs and his ass and made that lump at the front of his zipper look like a delicacy you could snack on. He wore a black t-shirt that was loose at his hips but was the tiniest bit snug at his broad shoulders. You tried to ignore the way your thoughts turned carnal at just the sight of the fucker.

One thing about Harry was that he was actually good at his job. He rarely missed a beat, cleaned as he went, smiled and chatted when it was appropriate, and stayed professional (with the guests at least). You didn’t usually mind working with Harry. He wasn’t a bad co-worker. But when the bar would clear out and you two would be cleaning up and restocking for the following day was when his true colors shined. He was a dick.

“You were late today. We needed you on time, Harry,” you spoke to him as you poured Jim Beam into a glass and Harry poured two shots for the obnoxious girls at the end of the bar. You could smell the slightest touch of his body odor mixed with his cologne when you spoke to him. Normally Harry smelled good like cologne and soap. But today he was off.  

Harry glanced at you with an unamused look, and lifted up the shot glasses, bumping into you as he walked past. The glass of Jim Beam sloshed and some of the liquid spilled over the lip of the glass. You cursed under your breath as you corrected the issue by wiping the outside of the glass and then pouring a splash more inside.

And that’s how the night went. You’d get nary a glance from him and he continued to bump into you, jostling you and one time nearly making you lose your footing. Yet never once a sorry or even acknowledgment of his actions.

“Hey! C’mere!” One of the annoying girls was motioning to you with her pointer finger.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. Harry had just refilled their drinks. You couldn’t understand what they might want at that very moment.

You whipped the rag in your hand over your shoulder and made your way to the end of the bar the girls were seated, “What’s up?”

“I was hoping you could take a picture of us. Would you mind?” The blonde asked.

You shrugged, “Sure. No problem.”

The girl looked at her phone screen and then glanced at her friend with a grin and handed you the phone.

You watched as the two girls smushed together for the picture and then looked down at the screen and groaned in annoyance at the picture that was staring you in the face. It was of the blonde. With her naked boobs in view and the curve of her hip popped out to the side, holding her fingers up in a peace sign.

You frowned and sat the phone down and looked back to the girls who were giggling and just before you could say something Harry was plucking the phone up from the bar and laughing.

He leaned over the bar top toward the girls, placing his elbows down and turning his head to look at you before looking back to the obnoxious set, “He’s not interested in boobs. Sorry girls. Me, on the other hand…” he tapped his fingers as he slid the phone back to the blonde, “I love ‘em.”

The girls' laughter was loud and forced. It pissed you off. Harry’s attitude all night had been the worst, and now these girls were laughing at something he said, which included mentioning your preferences. It wasn’t that you cared much if people knew you liked guys. It’s just that that was your business. You told people when it made sense to. Otherwise, no one needed to know what you liked or what you were attracted to. But Harry just alluded to your preferences without even asking you if that was okay. And the way he acted with those girls was also unlike him. He normally kept very professional while he was working.

And you knew that Harry liked guys too. He liked everyone really. You’d seen him with that girl at the party, and he talked about giving head to a guy he dated a few months ago. But you’d never just freely tell people what you knew about him.

You grabbed the back of his tricep and gripped hard so he understood your anger as you leaned in to say, “Fuck you, you nasty asshole. Pretty sure they’re both minors with fake IDs anyway. Have fun getting your cock sucked by a kid.”

You steered clear of the girls the rest of the night and continued serving the rest of the guests as if nothing had happened. But inside you were fuming.

After you told Harry you thought the girls were minors he also kept his distance. Served them when they wanted something but he toned down his flirtations with them immediately. Dumb fuck.

When the bar closed Joe and Cynthia told Harry that he was going to stay after to help them clean up and restock for opening since he was an hour late for his shift. You grabbed your bag and made a beeline to the door, not wanting to do anything with Harry or hear him make any snide remarks.

Just as you opened the front door you did hear him, though, “At least I can get my dick sucked.”

You paused for a moment before walking out into the night, the door closing behind you with a thud.

You just couldn’t understand his attitude toward you or why he took up for you that day all those months ago, or why he flirted with you at that party. You decided it might be time to find another job. Harry was insufferable tonight and if you had a repeat of tonight it’d end in a fight. Harry would probably win in all honesty, but you wouldn’t back down in taking a swing at him if necessary.

The next evening at Reggie’s you were notified that Phillip was filling in for Harry. Harry had supposedly had a family emergency and would be taking a little time off. You hated to be thankful that Harry had an emergency, but you were. And the whole night at work was great. Phillip was excellent to work with and no one tried making you feel like shit. But your mind did wander to Harry a time or two. You figured he was making something up so he didn’t have to be at work. It made you feel better to think that anyway.

~~ two weeks later ~~

Your day off midweek was something you always cherished. Most people wanted to have their weekends free but you loved having a day during the week while everyone was working so you could grocery shop, go to a matinee, walk around downtown and enjoy the streets that were not nearly as busy as they were on the weekends in peace. Which is what you were doing today. You had planned on getting your haircut, then you’d sit by the river at Mary’s Tap and get a glass of white wine and Baja tacos and enjoy the sunshine, have a quick trip to Trader Joe’s, then head back to your apartment.

You didn’t have a whole lot of friends. A few close ones with whom you kept in touch but you saw them once a month and that’s really all you needed. You got enough interaction with your fellow humans at work. You were a typical introvert. You did well in social settings but at the end of the night, you appreciated your alone time at home by yourself. Some nights you felt like it would be nice to have someone to enjoy your alone time with. Maybe one day.

After you got a bit of a trim and did some window shopping on your way to Mary’s Tap. You were waiting under the bridge at the light as cars were traveling and you could see the river and Mary’s just across the sidewalk on the other side when something caught your eye.

It was Harry. And he was with a young woman. He had his arm wrapped around her back and they were walking very slowly. It almost seemed as if the woman was hurt and Harry was holding her steady. You watched on for a bit in curiosity.

They began to cross the street at the green light and they were headed your way. Slowly. You looked up and down the street, hoping it was clear so you could cross without Harry seeing you but it was too busy and by the time you turned your head back toward the strange sighting, Harry had already seen you.

You raised your brows and nodded at him and he nodded in kind before you turned back to look across toward the river hoping the light would change fast before you were forced to say something or have any awkward exchanges with him.

Unfortunately, they were headed in the same direction as you were.

“Oh. Do you guys know each other?” The young woman asked and you turned to look at her and then at Harry.

Harry gave her a soft smile and nodded, “Yeah. He’s a coworker.”

The light turned and the three of you began to walk across the street together. You felt like you were somewhat obligated to walk with them since the girl seemed nice and she responded to Harry, “Ah! Well, sorry that you probably haven’t seen Harry in a while. He’s been doing the good brotherly thing and taking care of his poorly sister for a bit,” she laughed and then coughed.

You looked at the woman and smiled. She had some similar features to Harry. You could see the resemblance now that she’d called herself his sister.

Once you were safely on the sidewalk you turned and put your hand out, “I’m Y/n.”

She smiled and put her hand into yours, “I’m Gemma. Harry’s older sister.”

You made small talk as you walked along the sidewalk and just as you were about to say your goodbyes to the pair they followed behind you to the path that took you to the river to Mary’s Tap, “Oh. Are you two getting lunch here?”

Harry nodded, “Yeah. S’Gemma’s favorite spot. It’s nice by the river and it’s a sunny day so figured some food and sunshine would be good.”

Gemma laughed and nudged at Harry, “He’s been trying to get me out of the house for the last couple of days. Finally worked today. Still so sore from the accident,” she inhaled a sharp breath as you three made your way down the steps toward the river.

You got on Gemma’s left side and reached your hand out, “Do you want help?”

Gemma nodded and Harry shrugged as he looked at you so you took her left arm and put it over your shoulder gently to give her more support as she made her way down the steps to the river.

And because Gemma was absolutely a gem (it was no wonder her name was Gemma) you sat with them when she invited you. Harry didn’t protest or act put off so you accepted. Hesitantly.

You learned that the night Harry was an hour late to work, Gemma had been in a terrible car accident that morning. He was with her at the hospital all day until they told him they needed to do surgery and he wouldn’t be able to see her until the following day anyway. He made the decision to go to work to keep his mind busy and off of the accident and how worried he was for his sister.

That was why he was late. And only an hour. Given the circumstances, that was actually quite good. You felt bad for being happy he had a family emergency that had kept him away for two weeks.

The waitress came around and took your order. You were a little surprised that Harry ordered the Baja tacos. So you picked something else off the menu not wanting to make it look like you were copying him or anything. But that was a bit disappointing. The Baja tacos at Mary’s were the best.

The three of you chitchatted and Harry was being quite pleasant to your absolute shock. You figured that he was pushing down his urge to be his usual self around his sister. He even commented that he liked your haircut. He noticed it. Another surprise.

“These are the fucking best,” Harry said with his mouth full of the crispy fish taco, “Have you ever tried these? Like, the first time I got them I couldn’t believe they were good because this is just some random tourist bar, but goddamn these are good.”

You nodded with a smile as you looked down at your mushroom burger. The Baja tacos were the best thing on the menu but you made the sacrifice and went with the veggie mushroom burger. Which was good. But not Baja taco-good.

“So… how’s it working with this dickhead?” Gemma said as she gestured toward Harry with a big grin.

Harry groaned and rolled his eyes and looked at you. He knew you weren’t a fan of his. He knew he was a dickhead. He was probably curious as to how you’d respond to his sister with this question.

You laughed and looked from Harry to Gemma, “Well, he is a dickhead. But he’s professional and he works hard. The people who come into Reggie’s like him.”

It wasn’t bad sitting with Harry and his sister. Harry was a bit more charming than he normally was. He wasn’t acting cocky or shitty. He was just being a nice, normal guy. It was a different side to him that you’d only gotten small glimpses of before. But the entire hour and a half with Harry and Gemma, Harry had been kind. And his eyes on you had you feeling like there was something there. It wasn’t obvious or anything but he'd flirted with you in the past and you’d seen the look before.

When the waitress came back you split the bill and then stood up from your chair to help Gemma up with Harry on her other side.

“Guys, I’m sorry to do this but I’ve got to pee, so…” she spoke as she stood to her feet.

You followed behind her and Harry as they made their way inside Mary’s so Gemma could use the toilet. You figured you’d help them back up the steps to the street. It definitely was for Gemma’s sake only because she was so sweet. Certainly not because you found yourself enjoying your time with Harry or that you were hoping for another stolen glance. Certainly not that.

When Gemma disappeared into the women’s room Harry turned to you, “Hey… I know I’m kind of shit. I have no good excuse for how I treat you. Or how I treat anyone else. Gemma’s accident has made me think about things a little differently,” Harry picked at his finger and looked up at you, “Anyway, I’m sorry, Y/n, for being a prick.”

You took his apology in as if you’d just won a free vacation. It was unexpected but also something you felt you deserved. You weren’t sure how to respond at first. You just stared at the handsome man for a moment dumbfounded.

When Harry grinned softly and perked up a brow he asked, “Are you okay?”

You shook your head to clear your confusion and blinked, “Uh… yeah. I’m okay. I just didn’t expect an apology at all. I’m… Well, thank you for that. I accept your apology.”

You helped Harry steady Gemma up the steps to the sidewalk and said polite goodbyes as you parted. But you didn’t stop thinking about Harry on your way to Trader Joe’s. How different he was at Mary’s Tap. He was… kind, likable even. And he apologized on top of it all. It had you regretting how angry you were with him that night and how you were glad he was gone from work with you for two weeks. He actually had a reason for it all. A fucking good reason and so you felt bad. Not too bad, though. Harry had been an absolute dick to you. There was no excuse for the way he treated you that night. But now you understood it at least.

You grabbed your favorite items at Trader Joe’s (chicken soup dumplings, Palak paneer, and cauliflower gnocchi were always on the list) and walked home with your head in the clouds a little. You’d always found Harry quite attractive. Most people did. Harry was physically gorgeous. Lanky and slightly muscular, broad shoulders, a handsome, angular face with a prominent nose, light green eyes, long, soft dark curly hair, a pretty neck… You kind of had a thing for necks and when Harry put his hair back in a bun you could stare at the back of his neck when he was turned away without him noticing. And then there was his voice. God his voice… The first time you heard him speak you thought you were in a dream. A handsomely deep voice with a bit of a rasp, and a breathy laugh, all wrapped in a sexy British accent. And god you couldn’t even get started on his dimples. Or his big hands…

Harry wasn’t just your type. He was everyone’s type. But his personality left something to be desired. You always imagined that if he were just a tiny bit nicer you’d have been more willing to suck him off that day at your boss’s party. You didn’t need a nice guy. Just someone who was respectful and didn’t treat you like shit. Your standards weren’t wildly high you didn’t feel. But Harry had been too disrespectful toward you at times.

But now? Had he really changed for the better? Did his sister’s accident make him a little nicer? Or was this just temporary?

~~

For the first time in weeks, at your next shift, you were disappointed Harry wasn’t working with you behind the bar. Phillip was great. He’d been a star. You appreciated how pleasant he was but you had really been looking forward to seeing Harry. Finding out if he really was a little more pleasant. But that wasn’t in the cards for you that day.

Instead, at around 11 pm, a past mistake named Jude walked into the bar and as the night progressed he made it clear he wanted to see you after you got off work. He was never one to be shy, but why would he? Jude was a very attractive man. Used to getting anything he wanted. He was dressed in a button-down shirt, nice and crisp, tucked into well-fitted trousers. He had his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, showcasing his strong forearms and he kept his eyes on you for most of the night, despite the guy sitting next to him.

“There’s a small get-together tonight at a friend’s. Would be nice to have you join me if you’re free when you get off,” Jude had his elbows on the bar, leaning in toward you. The wire-rimmed glasses on his face somehow made him look super sexy. Like a hot professor or something. You were trying so hard to ignore the way you wanted to indulge in your past mistakes but his blue eyes, soft lips, curly hair, and that stupid smirk were wearing away at your resolve.

You shook your head, “I get off at 1. No one’s having a get-together at 1 am, Jude.”

Jude didn’t falter, “Love how you say my name. Always have. But honestly, my friends told me to come by whenever. They said they were staying up all night. Besides, if it winds up being too late, I happen to live in the same building…” his smile widened, “and we can just have our own little get-together. Up to you.”

And there it was.

You hadn’t gotten any in a while. Months. In fact, it might have been Jude who was last in your bed now that you thought about it. You weren’t hard up or anything but Jude was looking awfully tasty tonight.

You squinted as you looked him over before turning back to serve another guest. You weren’t going to give him an answer just yet. The last time you got involved he hurt you. You two were casually dating for a couple of months but you’d gotten too attached too fast. Jude was not interested in anything serious and you knew that. But it didn’t stop your heart from breaking every time he was out with someone else. And then one day he told you it was over because he’d fallen in love with someone else and he wanted to get serious with them. That was a big blow to your ego. He was the first man you’d ever cried over.

But now here was looking like a hot daddy and asking you back to his place to fuck. Well, he didn’t say it in so many words but that’s what he wanted. It was clear. And you did too. Maybe just a night of fun with an old fling would be fun. Right?

Needless to say at 1 am when you left Reggie’s, Jude was leading the way to the Uber he’d ordered.

The condo building was across town. On the drive to this “get-together,” Jude wasted no time in shoving his tongue down your throat and groping your crotch. But you did little to stop it. You were definitely feeling the effects of his charm. Or maybe it was just that you were missing the action.

The party was on the 5th floor. Jude lived on the 7th, you remembered. He knocked on the door and you could hear some music slipping under the door into the hallway so you figured there really was a party of some sort.

When the door swung open you were met with a pair of forest green eyes and long dark hair. The newly familiar face was staring back at you with a big grin.

“Y/n? What are you doing here? Oh my god! Harry!! Look who’s here!” Gemma shouted into the hallway behind her.

Gemma ushered you and Jude inside, the door swinging closed behind you. You noted that Gemma was still limping but she seemed to be moving much better.

“I had to throw a small party. I’ve been so cooped up and just looking at Harry’s face all day every day was driving me crazy!” Gemma spoke excitedly.

Before you turned the corner you saw him, “Yeah? Who…” he stopped in his tracks when he realized you were there.

His face brightened and then he looked at Jude, then back to you, the bright features slowly fading, “Oh… hey, Y/n. Jude. You two come together?”

“We did. And we will later on as well,” Jude said smugly turning to you with a wink.

You cringed at his dumb innuendo. It might have been funny if you weren’t standing face-to-face with Harry, who was looking like sex on legs. Harry of course didn’t even have to try. He just had it. Even with his hair in a bun and graphic t-shirt, he blew Jude out of the water. But it was the way Harry was looking at you after Jude’s remark that really had you feeling a little icky. Guilty?

Was that disappointment Harry wore on his face? You weren’t sure exactly.

Gemma limped back to the three of you with two cans of beer in hand, “For the guests…” she smiled, totally unaware of the turmoil you were suddenly faced with.

You learned the apartment was Gemma’s. She owned it. Harry lived with her. It was small but cute and the finishes were very nice. She had a balcony that overlooked a shared courtyard facing many other balconies.

There were about six other people in the apartment, all of whom you didn’t know. Jude knew a couple of them but you could hardly pay attention to polite introductions when your eyes kept searching for Harry.

When you spotted him outside on the balcony by himself, you excused yourself and walked outside with him, the cool night air hitting your skin and feeling refreshing. It was getting too stuffy inside with Jude next to you. You suddenly didn’t want anything to do with him anymore.

“It’s nice out,” you spoke. Harry turned his head to see you just as you put your elbows onto the railing, mimicking his stance looking out over the courtyard. He nodded and then turned his sight back to the courtyard below in silence.

You cleared your throat, not really knowing what to say. You didn’t know why you were so worried about what Harry thought of you arriving with Jude. It wasn’t like you and Harry were dating, or anything even remotely close to that. But somehow you wanted to feel out the situation. Maybe he liked you. Maybe he wanted more than just the occasional flirtation. But it was silly all these ideas in your head because Harry had mostly only ever been a fuckface toward you. Yet, you were soft toward him from the small handful of times he was nice or flirty. And especially after lunch at Mary’s Tap the other day. That had changed everything.

“So, Gemma seems to be feeling good. How’s it going taking care of her?” You figured you’d ask him a question that he’d need to use his voice to respond to you with.

Harry shifted and looked down further over the balcony before clasping his hands onto the railing in front of him and pushed himself so he was angled to face you, “Yeah. She’s been really good. I told her maybe a party wasn’t a great idea but she’s 30. Not much I can do. Probably be back at Reggie’s next week,” he gave a weak smile and looked through the sliding glass doors to see inside and then back to you, “So you know Jude?”

You hadn’t expected him to ask about Jude. In fact, you sort of thought that he more than likely didn’t even care. You thought it was unlikely Harry would be arsed to know about you and Jude, even if you did think you saw the smallest look of disappointment on his face.

You nodded, “Yeah. Used to date. He came into the bar tonight and invited me here…” you laughed and looked down at your hands on the railing and then turned your body to face Harry, “but, he’s just the same as he used to be. Probably shouldn’t have come back with him.”

Harry shrugged and let out a grunt of hmmph… “Well, he is attractive. Quite attractive. I can see why you’d be persuaded.”

You pulled your lips into your mouth and turned to look inside at the people, “Yeah… it’s really the only reason I did. But I’m only reminded of the past now that I’m seeing him again. He hurt me so,” you shook your head and looked back at Harry, “that’s why I think it was probably a bad idea.”

“He hurt you?” Harry’s brows scrunched together a bit causing vertical frown lines at the bridge of his nose to appear.

You smiled, “It was months ago. I started having feelings and then he wanted to see someone else. No big deal.”

Harry frowned, “He dated you and then decided to let you go for someone else? That was his bad.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that. You looked at Harry for a moment longer and then turned to look back down at the courtyard, Harry following suit. It was moments like that that made your heart pitter-patter. His intense gaze. His eyes. It wasn’t much. But it was a shared glance that was a beat longer than normal. It felt like something.

A few moments of silence enveloped you both until Harry turned his head to look at you and speak, “So, you’re not like, with him then? You’re not going back to his place after this?”

You blinked your eyes and his questions felt like an opening. He was opening up some kind of dialogue that could possibly lead somewhere. You would take the bait. Why not? What did you have to lose? You liked Harry.

“Uh… no. Definitely not with him. I’m glad I came, though. Glad it happened to be at your apartment too…” you spoke as you watched Harry closely for any sign to abandon ship but all you got was a green light when he cocked his head slightly, quirking up a corner of his pink mouth, and his eyes searched your face.

Just then, the sliding glass door was being opened and you heard Jude’s voice, “There you are. Couldn’t find where you wandered off to. So you two know each other?”

Harry stood up straight and smiled at you with a wink before patting Jude on the back and walking inside, leaving you and Jude standing on the balcony together.

You sighed as you watched Harry leave and then turned back to Jude and nodded, “Yeah. We work together.”

Jude turned to look back inside before looking back at you, “Is he the one that’s rude? Heard you talking about some guy you worked with who was an asshole.”

You rolled your eyes. You didn’t realize Jude overheard you and Phillip talking about Harry. Phillip had similar feelings about Harry’s lack of tact. But what Jude obviously didn’t hear was that you didn’t agree with Phillip anymore. You didn’t tell Phillip about Harry’s sister because you didn’t think it was your place, but you did tell him that you felt Harry should be cut some slack and that you felt like he might be going through something.

“Yeah. But Harry’s not that bad. He was kind of a dick at first but, I don’t know…” your words were cut off when Jude put his hands on the railing, caging you in and getting a little closer than you would’ve liked, “What do you say we get out of here soon? I want to get down to business with you. You are looking so good, Y/n.”

You leaned away from him as he moved his face closer to yours in an effort to kiss you. Putting your hands up to his chest to create more space you shook your head, “Actually, Jude. I don’t know. It’s probably not good to do anything. I don’t think it ended well between us last time. Ya know?”

Jude scoffed and pressed his hips to yours, “I had no hard feelings about how we left things. But I can tell you I have some hard feelings right now,” he prodded himself toward you and that’s when you felt him under his trousers.

You laughed in disbelief, pushing harder at his chest to make him move off of you, “Stop, Jude. You were fine when you broke up with me. I was not fine, though. I think I should probably just go home.”

You peered inside and saw Harry watching. He could see the spectacle you two were making, but from his view, it looked like two men enjoying one another’s company. He couldn’t tell you were uncomfortable or that you were pushing at Jude to move him off of you. When he made eye contact with you he turned and disappeared down the hallway.

“Oh come on, Y/n. You used to beg for it. Hell, I used to beg for it. I miss that dick of yours. Haven’t had such a pretty one in a long time…”

You cut his words off as you opened the sliding door and looked at Jude, “You don’t get to have my dick anymore, Jude. I have suddenly become aware of what I’m doing and I’m telling you, I don’t want it. I don’t want you.”

“Is it Harry? He’s who you want to fuck tonight instead?” Jude spoke in disbelief.

You shook your head and let out a sigh of aggravation before walking back inside.

Gemma was taking a puff of a joint when you sat down next to the coffee table on the floor with your tepid can of beer. You’d barely drunk any of it. Beer wasn’t really your thing, but you were nothing if not polite. You’d drink the beer with a smile on your face. Especially because Gemma was the one who’d given it to you. You really liked her.

The joint was passed around like in one of those 80s movies. You took a puff and passed it along to the girl who sat closest to you. Jude came back inside and tossed his can of beer into the garbage, making a bit of a commotion as he did so.

He plopped himself down close to you and sat back, palms behind himself, “Y/n and I used to date you know,” Jude suddenly spoke loudly over the guy who was talking about his job.

At that moment Harry sat on the couch next to Gemma and took the joint from her to take a hit.

“Really?!” Gemma responded. Harry perked a brow up toward Gemma and then looked at you.

“Yeah. For a few months. Didn’t work out but I saw him at the bar tonight. Didn’t even know he worked there! Didn’t know you worked there either, Harry,” Jude spoke loudly, obnoxiously and then he looked at Harry.

Harry narrowed his gaze at Jude but didn’t speak.

“That’s enough, Jude,” you spoke, quietly leaning toward him.

“I don’t think it’s enough,” Jude sat up straight and all eyes were on him, “I think I want to talk about what tonight is about. For you Y/n,” he turned to look at you and now all eyes were on you.

“What?” You scrunched your face and laughed in half embarrassment and half confusion.

“Tonight. You know what I’m talking about. You had your tongue down my throat, your hand on my crotch,” you heard a few small snickers and gasps as people listened to Jude expose everything you’d done just before you got to Gemma’s apartment, “and now suddenly you’ve changed your mind? So what was this?”

You had your mouth open to respond but you didn’t know what to say. Was he serious? Jude could be forward, pushy even, and you knew he had no shame, but this? You looked at Harry who gave away no emotion on his face. He was looking from you to Jude.

“Well? What is it? I thought maybe you were into Harry and that’s why you suddenly lost interest,” silence from everyone listening to the drama unfold before them, “but then you were just talking shit about him with your co-worker, Phillip was it? So, couldn’t be Harry,” Jude gestured toward Harry.

Now everyone looked at Harry and then back to you and then Jude. It would have been comical if you weren’t the spectacle thrown into the middle of the show.

You shook your head, “No. I wasn’t talking shit about Harry. That’s not true…”

“Oh but it is. I heard you at the bar, and then again just now I asked you and you said that he was a dick. So what is it Y/n?” Jude stared you down and you were dumbfounded. You pushed yourself up to standing and one of the guys got up and helped Jude up, saying how he thought it was time to wrap up the party and best if we left.

You ran your hands through your hair and then reached for your beer to at least take it into the kitchen and dump the contents before leaving. This had just gotten so out of hand and you didn’t know how to dig your way out of it. You could deny all you wanted, but it was your word against Jude’s and Harry had seen him close to you on that balcony and you did arrive with him. Most of what Jude said was true. Just not the important details he exaggerated.

You poured your beer out and could hear Gemma telling Jude it was a good time for him to go and you could feel how hot you were in the face. Your ears were burning, your heart was pounding. You were embarrassed and angry. You placed your palms down on the kitchen counter and lowered your head to breathe. It was so fucked. You definitely didn’t want Harry to think you were some flaky liar who was talking shit about him behind his back.

“You’re still here?” Harry spoke from behind you.

You stood upright and turned to see Harry, still no emotion on his face, “I’m leaving. I just wanted to give Jude a chance to get out of here first. Kind of don’t want to look at him. And… look, I wasn’t talking shit about you. I…”

Harry shook his head and spoke over you, “Stop. I don’t want to hear it. I know I’ve not been nice to you but I guess it turns out you’re not so nice either.”

You shook your head, “I’m… I didn’t…” you didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to hear it. Maybe it was a lost cause. “I’m sorry,” was all you could manage.

Gemma walked in behind Harry and smiled at you, “Uh, he’s gone. I think everyone’s leaving now.”

You nodded and looked from Harry to Gemma, “Hey, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean for any of that to happen.”

Gemma nodded, “It was mostly just Jude. But I think it was a good time to wrap this up anyway. Getting tired,” she yawned into her palm.

You looked back at Harry hoping you could read something from him at all. Any opening. Any green light to plead your case. But all you got were his words, “Time to leave now.”

You walked passed Harry to leave and when you made it to the front door in the hallway Harry stopped you, “I saw you both on the balcony you know. That’s why I don’t believe you,” he had his arms crossed in front of his chest.

This. This was it. The opening for you to plead your case, “No. He was coming onto me. I was trying to push him off,”

“You’re kind of a liar aren’t you?” Harry smiled unamusedly as he spoke with a laugh of disbelief.

“Harry, I swear. I’m not lying here. He was too close and I was pushing him away,”

“Took you a good few minutes to push him away then did it? He’s not bigger than you, Y/n. If you wanted him off of you he wouldn’t have been practically dry-humping you like that,” Harry scoffed and took a step toward you. Now you could see some emotion on his face but it had you confused. He was mad but there was something else there. His eyes moved down your frame and then Gemma stepped into the hallway.

“Hey, do you guys think you could take it in your room or outside? Please?” Gemma looked at Harry and then at you.

“I’m leaving. Sorry…” you said as you reached for the door handle but Harry put his palm on the door to stop you and looked at his sister, “We’ll keep it down. Sorry Gems.”

You watched Harry as he turned back to you, his face set with the smallest bit of anger still, “We’re not done here. Follow me.”

Harry turned and began to walk down the hall and you stood for a moment with a bit of confusion but then you followed behind Harry and into what you assumed was his bedroom. Harry closed the door behind you and stood with his back to his door, arms crossed over his chest.

“Get it all out. Right here. Tell me how much you hate me. How much of a dick I am. How shitty I was to you. Let’s get it all out in the open,” Harry said as he gestured between himself and you.

You stitched your brows together and shook your head, “Harry… come on. I… at one point yeah, you were shitty, but let’s move on from that. You apologized already.”

Harry shook his head and pushed himself off the door, making one long-legged stride toward you, “Tell me how much you hate me. To my face.”

You blew out a breath of frustration and blinked, “I don’t. I don’t hate you, Harry.”

And then Harry did it again. He glanced downward over your body and then back up to your eyes, “Tell me now. I’m a dick aren’t I?” He brought his hands up to your shoulders and pushed at you, causing you to move back a little. He didn’t push hard but it was more like a bid for attention. Like how you’d try to nudge someone who wasn’t listening.

“No. You’re not. I don’t think that. You already…” but your words were cut off when Harry shoved at you. A little harder this time. But now you were ready for the nudge and you stood your ground, “Stop, Harry.”

“Oh, you want me to stop?” Harry stepped in closer until he was only inches from you. But you felt the heat of excitement trickle down your torso and to your knees. You kept your eyes on Harry’s bright green ones and didn’t make a move to back away. Like a dare almost. A game of chicken. Who would dodge out of the way quicker? You certainly wouldn’t. The impact would be welcome.

“No actually. I don’t want you to stop,” you spoke with as much confidence as you could muster.

“No? You want me to do this?” He tilted his head to the side in question as he shoved you again, a little harder than the last time, causing you to stumble back just a bit but this time you brought your hands up and shoved at his shoulders equally as hard.

“Yeah. I do,” your words were clear and you didn’t break eye contact.

Harry shook his head and stepped in again until the heat you felt wasn’t just from the excitement of the moment, it was coming from his body. You felt goosebumps rise on your arms when Harry spoke in a whisper, “Push me again. Show me how much you hate me.”

So you did. You shoved at him hard. You weren’t a wimp. You figured you could give him a show if that’s what he wanted.

Harry was knocked back a foot and he laughed, “Is that it? Doesn’t feel like hate to me, Y/n.”

You scoffed and pushed him again, stepping in toward him this time, “No? What’s it feel like, Harry?”

Harry’s chest began to rise and fall, and his breathing deepened. He smirked and spoke, “Feels like foreplay.”

You quirked up the edge of your mouth and pushed at his chest, but followed as he moved back from the force, “Is that what this is, Harry?”

Harry shook his head with a laugh of disbelief, keeping the smirk on his face he lifted a hand and wrapped his fingers around your neck. You swallowed hard. The simmering in his eyes told you all you needed to know. Your own breathing deepened and you stepped in so close to him that your noses were almost touching.

“Doesn’t feel like you hate me. Feels like you wanna fuck me,” Harry’s deep voice was almost vibrating on your skin as he spoke.

You swallowed again and let out a puff of air from your mouth when you felt Harry’s fingers tighten slightly, “You gonna choke me?”

Harry breathed out from his nose and smiled, “Do you want me to?”

You licked your lips and Harry dropped his mouth open slightly. You could feel his breath on your lips, warm, humid. This was foreplay. That’s what he was doing. His little act that started in the kitchen and was eventually brought to his room… you’d end it here. No more acting.

“Do it,” you spoke as you grazed your lips over his. Harry pushed his nose into the side of yours and you heard him mutter fuck before his lips were slotting between yours and he was squeezing your neck a little harder.

You sucked in air through your nose and brought your arms up over his shoulders and hands into his hair.

He tasted good. His lips were soft and his kiss was encompassing like he’d been starved. Like he needed to get his point across at how turned on he was. You got the hint. Especially when Harry walked you backward to his bed and then shoved you down onto his mattress. You fell down, your bottom hitting the comforter and you looked up at him from your position.

Harry’s cocky smirk reappeared but this time you liked it. You grabbed his arm and pulled him down next to you and pinned his arms down to his sides as you pressed your lips into his neck. You’d always wanted to kiss his neck and you could feel his pulse under the sensitive flesh of your mouth.

Harry gasped and tried moving from your hold but you only tightened it and then licked along his jaw which drew the prettiest moan from Harry’s throat.

“Want me to show you how bad I used to hate you, Harry?” You spoke against his neck and then nipped at the skin.

Harry whimpered and you felt him nod, “Yes.”

You pulled the skin on his neck into your mouth and sucked so you could mark him first and then you straddled his hips and let go of his arms as you tugged at his t-shirt to pull it up. You wanted to take a look.

You knew he had tattoos on his arms and on his chest but you’d never seen his chest bare before. There was nothing in you that was disappointed in what you saw at all. More tattoos than you realized. You lowered yourself down and sucked his right nipple into your mouth, licking around the hair and then you slid a hand up to his neck and kept him held down before you sat back to look down at him.

Harry’s pupils were blown out and he was smiling, “Again. Doesn’t feel like hate at all.”

You laughed and squeezed at his neck, “Oh you’re gonna feel it soon enough. But first I need to know what I’m not allowed to do. As much as I hated you, Harry, I’m still respectful.”

Harry laughed and brought a hand up to lift your t-shirt upward and put his palm on your stomach and moved it upward, “I usually top but I’ll bottom for a good cause. I like everything, Y/n. I’ve got condoms so you can fuck me if you want. Or I can fuck you? Or suck you… I’m open,” he put a hand over your fingers that were squeezing his neck lightly and he tightened it a bit, “you can punish me if you want.”

God did you want. You were into everything. You liked it all too. You liked a cock inside your mouth or your tight hole. You even liked just frotting. Spanking was fun to give and receive, biting, choking… If Harry was really open to anything like he said, this could be a good match.

You lowered your mouth to his to taste his lips again and adjusted your position over him so your hips were aligned. His tight jeans were leaving little to the imagination and his cock was already hard. Good. Because so was yours.

You rocked your hips gently over him and Harry put his hands on your back under your shirt, lifting his hips toward yours.

“Let’s take off these clothes,” you parted from his mouth with a gasp and got off the bed, ripping your shirt over your head and Harry did the same.

He watched you pull your jeans down and you took note of the surprise on his face when you weren’t wearing any underwear.

Harry stood up and slowly undid his pants, his eyes on yours, a cheeky grin on his face. He brought his pants down and Harry was also not wearing underwear.

You both laughed but the laughter only lasted a moment before you two were on each other.

“S’really pretty cock, Y/n. Can I suck on it?” Harry mumbled into your neck as he pressed his body into yours.

You moaned and nodded, “Yeah. On the bed.”

Harry’s cock was pretty too. And long. Longer than yours. And Harry was uncut. You loved the feel of an uncircumcised cock. The extra skin was amazing for frotting but also felt so nice inside your bum.

You got on the bed and leaned back while Harry crawled between your legs on the bed and lowered his hands to your thighs and looked up at you as he licked his pink lips, “You can fuck my mouth if you want. I know I deserve it.” His smile was devious.

He lowered his mouth to the inside of your thigh and kissed downward until he met the apex of your leg and your groin. You watched him as she took his time dragging his lips over the thatch of hair at the base of your cock and then used a hand to cradle your balls. He lowered himself down and started off with a gentle kiss to each side before licking them and wetting them as he watched you.

“Fuck…” you moaned quietly. You were well aware that Gemma was just down the hall. You didn’t want to be loud.

Harry opened his mouth and tongued at your scrotum and then he looked up at you again, “Can I pull?”

You nodded. You liked having your scrotum pulled at just a little and then the thin skin licked. Harry got to it right away. He knew what he was doing. You panted as you dropped your mouth open.

Harry’s free hand traveled down to your perineum. He pressed it gently with his thumb and moved up and down which got your heart racing. You moaned.

Harry released your scrotum and smiled up at you, “Can I lick your taint?”

You nodded again and Harry switched out the thumb he was using for his tongue and you shivered.

His nose was nudging into your balls as used his tongue to lick up the small patch of skin next to your anus. You keened and sucked in a sharp breath, then a husky pant fell from your mouth.

Harry slowly brought his hand up to your dick, wrapped his big hand around your shaft, and began yanking upward. He moved himself up and sat back before bending over to spit a gob of saliva over your tip. He smoothed it down, leaving a shiny path under his palm and then he opened his mouth as he lowered himself, licking the tip with his wet tongue and kissing your slit.

“Oh god…” you whispered in anticipation of what he was about to do.

Harry looked at you as he stroked you upward with one palm, “I’ve been wanting to do this to you for so long now, Y/n. I hope you like it.”

Harry’s lips wrapped around your tip and that was it for you. You threw your head back and whimpered as he sucked you off. He didn’t go too deep. He kept one hand at your base and pumped while he sucked, licked, and moaned over your tip and a few inches of your dick underneath.

You bent your knees and lifted your hips a bit as you looked down at him, “Holy… oh god…” you kept your volume low but it was hard with your cock in Harry’s mouth.

Harry’s pupils had dilated and his mouth was wet and pink as he slowly pulled his mouth from you, “Come on. Give me my punishment. Fuck my mouth,” his voice was raspy and deep and you could feel his breath on your tip.

You laughed. He really wanted it. So you’d give it to him.

Moving Harry back, you pushed his chest and sat up to your knees, and pointed at the bed, “Lie down on your back.”

Harry moved to lay down flat on his back and watched as you straddled his chest and angled your cock downward to his lips, “Open wide.”

He wasted no time in obeying and you wasted no time in pushing your cock back into his mouth. You went slow at first. The angle was good. You liked getting your cock sucked like this but you knew how it could be a bit rough so you let him get used to it as you began to slowly get yourself deeper inside of him.

When he swallowed around your tip and you heard the first gurgle you smiled down at him but continued your thrusts, “Pinch me if you need me to stop.”

Harry shook his head and sucked around you which made you gasp with delight.

You began pushing down into him harder, hearing his gags and watching his spit drizzle down his face made you feel like you were in control. You loved how it looked having your cock fuck his pretty face.

“I used to hate you,” you groaned as you held onto the headboard, the wet sounds of his mouth being pumped into, “Always wanted to put you in your place.”

Harry squeezed his eyes closed as he listened to you tell him how angry he made you, “Wanted to fucking punch you in your handsome face,” you panted continuing your plunges.

“Wanted to choke you and now I can with my cock down your throat.”

Harry moaned around your cock and you grunted with your pace. You began to vibrate, feeling your orgasm start to build fast. You watched the scene below you and Harry seemed to be enjoying it as much as you were. With one hand on the headboard and your other in his hair you pulled at his roots, “This is what you deserve for everything you put me through.”

You warned him you were coming but he was almost even more eager to take you deeper. He swallowed around your crown just as you released into his mouth. You groaned and shivered as Harry continued sucking and swallowing until you were spent and sensitive.

Harry chuckled when you finally pulled yourself out of his mouth and you looked down at him with a grin, “Fuck, Harry.”

You hadn’t expected him to take it like that. He seemed to enjoy having his throat fucked. And it was hot. You always imagined Harry would be strictly a top with his attitude but he most definitely wasn’t a top when he was gagging and drooling as you were grinding your dick into his mouth.

You collapsed onto the bed next to him with your chest rising and falling heavily. You turned your head to look at the man next to you and he had his hand around his own cock, slowly pulling at it as he watched you with droopy eyes. He hadn’t come yet but he already looked totally fucked out. Harry was gorgeous.

You rolled over to kiss him. His mouth was warm and salty. But you could tell right away how much he was dying to have you touch him so you lowered your hand and pressed your palm over him with your fingers grazing his balls and the hair that surrounded his thick cock.

“What do you want, Harry? I think I got all my anger out,” you laughed as you spoke against his lips.

Harry chuckled and you felt him nod, “I’d say you did,” Harry’s voice came out scratchy and raspy. Harry backed away from the kiss and his face was angelic with a soft smile and parted lips, “You said you like everything. Can I fuck you?”

You had come already but you wouldn’t mind feeling him inside. Perhaps you could even come again with some time. You nodded and grinned, “Whatever you want.”

Harry let out a pant and nudged the tip of his hard cock to yours and he keened with a pained look on his face. He looked down between your bodies and put his palm over his cock and the tips of his fingers around yours so they were pressed together, “Want to fuck you, stretch you open. M’gonna come so hard. You’re so fucking hot, Y/n. God…” he pressed his mouth to yours as he rutted his dick against yours slowly.

His words were sexy and his scratchy deep voice was making your insides turn. You never imagined yourself doing this with him. Well, you’d imagined what he might be like in bed, but never thought it’d actually happen.

Harry rolled over and pulled out a bottle of lube and a condom. He put the condom over himself and he seemed bigger and thicker than he had been when you first saw him hard. He was so ready to get his dick wet that he was a little shaky as he slid the rubber downward.

Harry looked down at you as you were still lying on your back waiting for his next move.

“I really like when it’s missionary. You can bring your legs up and I can enter you like this,” Harry kneed up to you and grabbed your ankles, pushing them up so your ass was exposed. He poured a healthy dollop of lube over your anus and you felt his fingers slipping around down there.

You liked this position too. You liked being fucked regardless but being able to see Harry’s pretty face was a bonus. Plus, you could have him stroke you while he was fucking you if you wanted.

You moaned when Harry plunged two fingers into your hole. Harry kept his eyes on yours and bit his lip as he fucked your hole a bit harder and then looked down to where his fingers were disappearing inside of you. You closed your eyes and your breathing picked up once again, heavy breaths falling from your mouth when his fingers were grazing your insides and adding that delicious pressure you loved.

“You’re so ready for me, Y/n. So pretty. Can I fuck it now?” Harry was looking at you with his cock in his hand when you opened your eyes and nodded, “Fuck me, Harry.”

Harry’s crown dipped in slowly before he pulled back and grunted a curse before going back in again and sucking in a sharp breath, “Oh fuck…” his deep voice was a bit loud and you hoped Gemma couldn’t hear. You were not into having friends hear you having sex.

Harry’s gentle pushes and pulls into and out of you were nice. You felt the burn with how wide he was but once he was thrusting into you and reaching deep it was good. Really good. Your prostate was being pressed into and sent zips of electricity through your veins.

Harry kept hold of your knees as he plunged deep into you, his breathing was ragged and he was quivering above you, “Y/n… oh my god… you feel so good… looks so good” he whispered as he kept his eyes on the spot his cock was connected with your ass.

You pulled at your thighs and held your legs open as you lifted your neck to watch him fucking you. His abs were flexing and his thighs were holding him steady in a healthy rhythm.

You could only moan quietly and gasp when he dipped in deep. Words weren’t finding you. The bed started to gently rock as Harry bucked into you. He reached down and wrapped his hand around your dick and you whimpered loudly, unable to control it. It felt so good to have your ass fucked and your dick stroked at the same time.

Your mouth dropped open wide at the feeling of letting Harry control everything. You didn’t think you could come again but if he kept up his strokes and thrusts like he was you would definitely be spurting all over your tummy.

“Fuck, Y/n. I’m gonna need more of this with you. Shit, you’re so tight. So hot…” Harry gasped his words as his strong thighs held himself up and over you. He hastened his pace and his pink lips were parted with small grunts and bursts of groans.

Harry placed his palms down on the mattress and continued fucking into you as you reached down to put your hand around your cock. You knew you could come again. Harry was doing everything right and when he’d given a little attention to your dick while he was fucking you it brought your prick back to life. You were hard and ready again.

“Yes…” you moaned as your body was being rocked with Harry’s plunges. Harry’s chest got more flushed the closer he got to the finish line and he dropped down to bring his lips over yours.

You whined into his mouth and the bit of electricity that you’d felt coursing through your body turned into a light and butterflies. Harry’s lips were wet and soft on yours and you were feeling something more than just being fucked. It was making your heart flutter with something new.

You both whined in breaths as you continued kissing and your hand stayed wrapped around your dick as Harry pushed into you. You could feel him shaking and you began to tremble when your own orgasm was coming so close.

“Can you come, Y/n? Come for me?” Harry grunted his words and kept his lips on yours and you nodded, “Yes, fuck I’m gonna come again Harry…” your voice was involuntarily raised up an octave as you were so out of it with lust and warmth.

Harry’s lips paused over yours as his long strokes into you were setting your groin on fire and he suddenly gasped and whimpered, “I’m coming…” he stopped his thrusts and groaned as you spurted into your hand and a little on your chest.

The bed was still finally as you both basked in your orgasms, pumping come out from your dick and Harry’s into his condom. Heavy breaths and small grunts were all that could be heard.

Harry lowered himself again, his lips finding yours and your feet hit the mattress as you wrapped your arms around Harry’s back. He stayed inside of you for just a bit longer before he finally began to move back and slip out. You both sucked in a sharp breath at the feel and laughed at the state you were both in.

After wiping up in the bathroom and getting water Harry suggested something you hadn’t expected, “Stay the night. It’s late.”

You smiled and looked at the clock. 3 am. That was pretty late. You raised your eyebrows and shrugged, “Guess I could stay.”

Harry locked his bedroom door and turned back to you, “Oh you’re definitely staying. We have a lot to make up for. Don’t you think?” He spoke as he stepped right in front of you, and smoothed a hand up your chest.

You laughed, “I’m kind of done for the night. I came twice.”

Harry raised his brows, “I’m good. I know. We can sleep a little. But I’m not done with you,” he kissed you, his hand finding the back of your head.

This had your heart pattering and dancing in your chest again. You knew Harry was different. Something in him changed just a little bit with Gemma’s accident and even though he was still a bit cocky and mouthy, he was nicer. He wasn’t just an asshole anymore.

You parted from the kiss, “What did you have in mind?”

Harry pulled you to the bed and motioned for you to lie down, “Let’s get some rest and then see where the day takes us when we wake up.”

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[faerievampling]

Killing Time

Chapter 6: Blind

Word Count: 4k

Pairing: Soft Ascended Astarion x Female Tav/Reader

Summary: After thousands of years together, Astarion and his consort go on another adventure. After Astarion is forced to return back to Faerún for the evening, Tav must attend a Githyanki banquet alone.

Link to Ao3!

Masterlist

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5.

Next Chapter

Warnings: 18+. Mention of sex. Light Mind Control. Kidnapping.

You give yourself a look over just to ensure everything is in place: your hair was braided with such elegance it could have brought tears to your eyes, and the earrings that Astarion had suggested paired brilliantly with your dress. They were a simple diamond, likely dug out by kobolds or dwarves somewhere in Neverwinter. The gems hadn’t been particularly expensive and there was no great story behind their purchase: Astarion had simply bought them for you because he thought they would look nice on you.

You had wanted to pass on wearing a necklace; between the earrings and braids, there was just a little too ‘much’ going on with your look, but Astarion had insisted.

The necklace provided you with a gentle warding bond. The gem of the necklace twinkled when the spell activated.

“Lover, surely this isn’t needed,” You had said while Astarion nervously adjusted your ensemble, smoothing away wisps in your hair and ensuring your makeup hadn’t smudged, your lips swollen from his incessant kissing. Astarion had remarked that you should be thanking him for the natural lip plumper, which only added to your supernatural, earth-shattering beauty.

“Madame,” Cynthia says from behind you, her voice light and tentative. You couldnt stop thinking about how helpless Astarion felt before walking through the portal back to Faerún, leaving you, Ruth, and Cynthia behind at the crèche.

He will be back. Later tonight. He promised. He will be back, you thought to yourself. You could sense Astarion’s anxiety amidst his occupation. He had told you not to worry, as if that was even possible.

“Yes?” You answer, looking at Cynthia’s reflection. She also looked quite lovely, and wore a blue gown, which was lovely with her blond hair and grey eyes. She smiles at you.

“Master wants me to remind you to blink and smile. But there is a certain ‘statuesque’ beauty about you when you aren’t thinking about it.” Cynthia’s eyes dart away from yours in the mirror, afraid she has been too casual with you, but you give her a little smile, as friendly as you can muster on that ancient face of yours.

“How interesting of you to say,” You reply, your voice even and light. You try your best not to be too robotic, reminding yourself of Astarion’s suave ease at mortal communication. “Are you excited for the banquet?”

Cynthia beams behind you. “I am. Very much.” Her heart is racing. You can sense her excitement.

You turn to her, nodding your head as her eyes drink you in. “Any last adjustments?” You ask, knowing Astarion would want you to look your best. He had told you to represent your family well in his absence, and you intended to do so.

The distance almost makes you feel pain, which is unusual; but you remember something you read in a book, once, about physical manifestations of emotional pain. You wondered if that idea was applicable to vampires with telepathic bonds, too. Astarion had been nearly distraught having to leave you. But you really couldn’t dwell on that now.

Cynthia takes a moment to thoroughly inspect you. “None. Master did well to do those himself, the expert that he is.”

You nod before opening the door to your chamber(if you could call it that; your room was certainly better than the last, but nothing quite like your boudoir at home), allowing Ruth to come in. His eyes were on you first, simply because he couldn’t help it: the two of you smelled distinctly of Astarion, which would always be attractive to you simply because he was your creator.

Ruth nodded to you. “Stunning, Madame,” he says politely before turning to Cynthia, the true object of his desire, you realize. You can smell the arousal on them alike, and Cynthia’s beat has gone between her legs.

Looking at the two of them reminds of the ‘before’ times. And that reminds you that you’re about to go party with a horde of gith without your husband. You think about reaching out to him, because surely he feels your growing anxiety; you are beginning to get angry, feeling as if he’s ignoring you.

But the rational part of your brain knows your anger is misplaced. You take a deep breath, startling both Ruth and Cynthia in the process, who’ve become lost in each other's eyes.

You take the crook of Ruth’s arm as you exit your chamber, Cynthia trailing behind the two of you. This was the way of the court: since you were absent your husband, any male escort would do. Servants, like Cynthia, don’t get an escort. Simply, your royal life was far more valuable than hers.

But you aren’t in court, are you? You think before turning to Cynthia, letting go of Ruth’s arm as you wave her closer. You promptly switch places with them, choosing to walk alone as the couple strolled in front of you.

Walking down the long hallway, you quietly observe the pair; when Cynthia rests her head on Ruth’s shoulder for a moment, snuggling up to him for a quick hug, you realize how happy your underlings probably were that they had their own room now. A quick look into Cynthia’s mind confirms your theory: although their relationship was in its infancy, these two made love often, and Ruth regularly fed from his darling.

Cynthia hadn’t been the first of Ruth’s lovers. Ruth did this often: he would devote himself to one human after another, and be entirely distraught upon their death. He never asked Astarion to turn any of his lovers, because that was against the rules.

Ruth seemed to rather like Cynthia, you think, but you had never paid attention to the others, so you couldn’t really say if things were different for him and your new lady servant.

The other spawn weren’t so monogamous as Ruth. You knew Marwa had a string of lovers but never a steady relationship. Astarion’s other two spawn, Ygritte and Apholso, often tangled together. If there was ever any drama between the two, neither of you heard of it, which was another one of Astarion’s rules: the lives of the spawn needn’t ever disrupt the lives or relationship of either Astarion or his consort.

You’ve lost yourself in a memory when you nearly stumble into the pair in front of you as you reach the ballroom of the spire.

It was far grander than you had imagined: the walls were smoothed, but still a rocky crystal that seemed to illuminate on its own volition, reflecting off of the milky white floors which resembled ice.

The gith are dressed up, and much to you and Cynthia’s dismay, pink was surely in-style among the gith women. But it was no matter: the moment you walked into the room, many eyes were on the three of you.

“Tav,” A familiar voice called from beside you, and you turn to see Lae’zel, reaching her hand out towards you to take your arm. You accept, allowing her to lead you towards a more intimate corner of the hall, Ruth and Cynthia on your heels.

There was a lot of gith here. You and Ruth are already looking at each other nervously: him moreso than you, even though you had missed your second feeding. The spawn’s vampiric hunger was far greater than your own, far more painful and constant. That didn’t really change your discomfort, but it certainly made Astarion feel better about the whole ordeal.

You knew the two of you needed something to occupy yourselves; excusing yourself from your group, you grab two glasses of wine from a serving table, handing one to Ruth as you begin to nurse on your glass of red.

Ruth does the same, and Cynthia is looking at him as if she’s worried. This strikes remembrance within you, when you once worried for Astarion’s hunger.

You notice Lae’zel is wearing a rather pretty dress, one that shows off her lovely neck; Lae’zel’s cleavage peeks out of the hem slightly, and you can’t help but steal a glance. The dress is a dark chocolate color, complimenting her green skin and orange hair well. She looked so much softer than normal, and you wonder if you had ever seen her this way.

You think maybe you should compliment her, but instead you focus on your red wine and try to stop thinking about how her skin would taste on your tongue as you slide your fangs into her—

“Where is Astarion?” Lae’zel asks, one eyebrow raised in inquiry.

As your eyes sweep the room, you start to feel a disturbance, and you know something is wrong. You still for a moment, time seeming to slow down as you focus your senses on the world around you: the smell of sweat and perfume and blood beneath skin, the warm moisture in the air touching you behind your ears, beneath your breasts, the sound of the casual music and the chatter mixed with laughter. You wait.

Ruth answers Lae’zel’s question. Because you are waiting.

“My lady –“ Ruth begins, but you bring your hand to his shoulder, patting him.

“Shh.”

But nothing happens. The banquet continues on like normal and you decide to return to the others, giving them the fakest smile you can muster.

“Darling darling darling darling darling.” You’ve involuntarily reached out, feeling Astarion’s quiet presence. He acknowledges but doesn’t reply, understanding that you’re both rather antsy.

Before you know it, your warband descends on you. Ziir’o, Quinel, and Joss wear a traditional Githyanki garb, an elegant suit tailored with thread made from intelligent beings rather than cotton or silk. It was an old tradition, one that existed far before Vlaakith or Orpheus ruled, where a young warrior would skin their first kill, using its materials to create a garb in a show of honor.

You thought it was a rather vicious tradition, one you admired. The boys looked handsome, and the three of them blush when you say so.

Marg’o and Chae each wore gowns; you and Cynthia shoot each other a look after taking in Marg’o’s pink gown. Chae, despite how stern she usually was, looked rather soft and lovely in a golden gown. The other five, who weren’t so keen on you, lingered about, greeting you curtly.

“Where’s your husband, Tav?” Marg’o asks with a blush. You couldn’t blame her for having a crush on Astarion, and you thought it rather cute.

“Not far. Just handling some business. He’s never truly away from me.” This was a lie, of course, but nobody needed to know that.

“Will he arrive in time for dinner? He knows Orpheus expects him.” Lae’zel says; it would have knocked the wind out of you if you hadn’t been undead. Instead, you were merely shocked.

You think for a moment nobody told you of Orpheus’s coming, but you knew it was more likely you had heard of it and hadn’t thought it important.

“I’m not sure,” You say as you reach out to Astarion, who is feeling nothing but frustration and anxiety. You can sense how badly he wants needs to be with you.

There is more small talk, but you ignore it, holding onto your connection with your husband. You know Astarion really doesn’t give a shit about Orpheus at this moment: surely, he wanted to please him, for alliance purposes or whatever, but what was going on at home took precedent.

He told you not to worry about that pesky war the mortals are having. Men and women (and some children, you are told) from all over Faerún are engaged in conflicts; but you have seen many nations rise and fall, so how different could this next one be?

But maybe your wealth was being threatened. And with Lord Geldon Moth in the mix, the Ancunín power and fortune was in need of not only defense: you think you should start to fight back. Maybe Astarion should create that spawn army, gather a few Githyanki forces storm the gates of wherever the hell Moth’s estate was, kill him, his consorts, all his spawn, all his thralls, and fuck your gorgeous husband on whatever excuse of a throne Moth sat on.

When the feast was finally called, you took Ruth by the arm, Lae’zel leading the two of you to the grand hall. There were rows of long tables filled with gith bodies as the banquet was brought to a semblance of order: in the back of the room, atop a platform, was a long, elegant table with a grand chair at its center.

The table and throne were made from wood and bone, carved magnificently; the legs of each resembling the tail of a dragon.

You take Astarion’s seat, directly next to the throne, and Ruth takes your seat next to you. Cynthia is made to stand behind you: you almost feel bad for her, but it was to be expected. The dinner felt more formal, more serious, and when everyone was largely settled, the dinner hall was hushed. There was a little quiet chatter, but hardly the assault of the ears that was the hall when you arrived.

The heartbeats of many thrummed in your ear, slamming against your eardrum amongst the quiet. You realize you’d never let go of Ruth’s arm, gripping it with such strength that you drew blood with your long nails. Ruth, equally if not more so bothered, gripped you back in kind, his hand covering yours. It takes you a moment to realize he’s trying to get your attention.

Ruth could telepathically communicate with Astarion, who could play telephone with you, if he so chose. But you could also easily read Ruth’s mind, and he knew this, so he signaled to tell you to peek inside.

‘We shouldn’t be here without Master Astarion. Too difficult, too difficult. Not enough blood. Cynthia is so delicious. Eat her whole.’ Ruth’s thoughts accidentally waved to Cynthia’s neck and breasts; ignoring his more lewd thoughts, you shake your head at him.

You try urging him to keep still, to stay calm, and to follow the rules of ‘Master’. But that feeling of apprehension in your gut hadn’t left, and you felt that little lump in your throat get bigger the more you lied to Ruth.

“It shall be alright, but we musnt make a scene. We would be punished,” You think that you would probably enjoy your punishment and Ruth decidedly wouldn’t. But the lying thing seemed to work, and Ruth was calming down.

“Think about your darling. Think about Cynthia. When I think about my husband, I do better to behave.” You’re still lying, but you know this is true for Ruth. You often did what you wanted, regardless of what Astarion thought. “You don’t want her to think you're a monster.”

Astarion didn’t care if you were a monster – as long as he could love and adore you, he would. But this wasn’t the case for Ruth. The look on his face signals understanding, and he nods with you in agreement.

“Don’t tell me something is the matter. Now is not the time,” Lae’zel rasps from beside Ruth, leaning over him. The royal procession was beginning, and everyone who had a seat stood: you and Ruth quickly followed suit after a single dirty look from Lae’zel.

You and Ruth continued to grip each other as the resplendent Orpheus was finally seen, his blue eyes fixated on you the moment he saw you.

“Orpheus is here,” You direct to Astarion, a strained reluctance in your message you knew your husband couldn’t ignore.

“I can only imagine how lovely you look right now. Haven’t stopped thinking about your perfect tits since I arrived in Faerún. You know what to do, my love.” Sadly, this signaled the end of your correspondence, because Astarion’s attention was quickly stolen away from you again. But you had greater things to worry about, like the Githyanki King standing before you.

But you did know what to do: throw on the vampiric charm, ignore that strange inkling of your psychic abilities, and do your best not to eat anyone. You regurgitate this back to Ruth, minus the psychic thing, of course.

Orpheus nods to you as he finally takes his seat, and the rest of the room relaxes. There are no great speeches, only the clanking of classes and the sound of music playing in the background as the room was brought to life.

Your discussion with Orpheus happens in a blur. You hardly remember him, your knowledge being from Astarion’s memory of the event, but Orpheus certainly remembers you.

“Time passes differently for us in the Astral Sea. It feels like not so long ago you and Lae’zel freed me from Vlaakith.”

You smile politely, careful not to show too much fang. “I apologize for my Lord Husband’s absence. There was…business to attend to.”

“It’s quite alright. Your Lord commands the Ancunín fortune and the armies and governments of Faerún, but you were the one I was keen on seeing. You were the one who slayed a devil and a ghaik ally to free me.” You think your vampiric charm is working a little too well on Orpheus. Peeking into his mind, this King was thinking of how delicious it would be to put you on your knees and stuff his cock in your mouth right in front of your husband.

Despite his lewd thoughts, there was a glitter in the man’s eyes, and it was clear he still admired you greatly.

When the food arrives, everyone digs in, except for you: one of the two vampires in existence who could actually enjoy the taste of food, but you didn’t care for it. The servants and other underlings ate in the kitchen, and as the movement in the dining hall increases, you find yourself sitting next to Lae’zel, Ruth having gone to the kitchens to sit with Cynthia.

“How has your evening been, so far?” Lae’zel asks as she sips on her wine, her eyes sweeping over you in lustful praise.

“Without Astarion?” You shake your head, pushing the food around your plate. “Any event without him is a bore.”

This was simply the truth: you had nobody to gossip with, nobody to laugh at others with, nobody to bother with bratty complaints or loving touches.

‘I shouldn’t be surprised a spawn loves her shackles, it’s in their nature…’

“Is it really so unbelievable to you that I simply love my husband? That I am happy with my arrangement?” You blurt, decidedly not caring if you were being rude or not.

Lae’zel is looking at you deeply. Thump. Thump. Thump. “Must you read my mind?”

“Must you think such terrible things of me?”

“I won’t forgive him for how he treated you. How he turned you into a spawn. How he made you kneel for him. I never –“ Lae’zel looks away, and you smell the coming of her tears. “I never would have done the things he did. I loved you. I respected you. To watch you tolerate that was your folly.”

Despite her words, Lae’zel’s thoughts were clear as day to you: ‘I still love you, Tav. I want you. I want you to still want me.’

It would be so easy to drain this one: you knew Lae’zel would be putty in your claws as you sucked her dry and caressed her lifeless body.

You blink at her, your mind feeling hot with a flash of anger. That was so long ago. Things are different now, you think, but no words come out of your mouth. You stand gracefully, turning only a few heads as you make your way out to the side of the hall, avoiding having to walk down the center of the room.

You hardly have time to process your aggravating conversation when you are overcome with a wave of nausea, your mind assaulted by a vision of utter darkness, one that is so black that it reminds you of nothingness. You only know you haven’t lost consciousness because your sense of awareness never leaves.

Taking a deep breath, you try to collect yourself, leading yourself around the corner to a secluded walkway. The smell of alcohol is pungent in your nose as you hear the shuffling of footsteps behind you: you know there is a familiar group of warriors coming down the hallway, and one is already calling out to you.

“Tav! You must try this, it’s a rare ale made in the Astral Sea –“ The smile on Ziir’o’s boyish face drops at the sight of you. “Tav?”

“Are you alright?” Joss asks, his eyebrows furrowed in worry.

As the group gets closer, your mind flits to that vision of nothingness. You feel a great surge in your connection with Astarion, and you know he is already on his way to you. To protect you from whatever it is that is happening. He’s racing towards you, but…

it’s

already

upon

you

Your thoughts become fragmented as that nothiness swarms you. You hear those familiar voices call out your name as you feel a strange sensation behind you, like you are standing at the edge of a cliff and you can feel the harsh winds at your back, threatening to knock you over the edge: you are unsteady, you are uneasy, and you are alone.

Astarion is calling out to you but you can’t discern his message; you can only feel his panic, his horror as his deepest fears are realized, and you feel your cheeks wet as even your vision goes dark.

“Astarion. Astarion. Astarion!” You’re screaming out to him, but you have no idea if he can hear you, because you receive nothing in response. The words seem to bounce around your empty mind.

Nothing: there is something about the absence of existence that is instinctually frightening to a vampire. Nothing is both a feeling and a state of being that vampires try to avoid.

You feel the world of the créche slip away from you as you finally fall off the cliff edge, into that strange breeze that violently whips around you.

“Astarion?” You keep reaching out to your bonded mate, desperate for him to respond.

Even your nose is blind. You start to think that maybe you’re dead when you no can longer feel your body. You don’t know how long you stay like this for, in this state where only your consciousness seems to exist with itself. You don’t think about much other than Astarion, who will surely come and save you at some point, even if you are dead.

Your hearing is the first to come back to you: someone is shuffling around you, maybe even pacing. For a moment, you think maybe it’s Astarion, until your sense of smell comes back online: nothing about wherever you had been taken smells remotely like your husband.

On the contrary, it smells distinctly like another vampire. This is when you start to panic. Tears are already sliding down your cheeks once your sense of touch comes back to you, realizing that you are wrapped in the arms of another man.

His skin is cool, scaley, his large arm coiled around your body as you try to squirm away from him. You realize now that whatever spell had been placed on you was wearing off.

Your entire body is trembling, and there is a stabbing pain in your chest and your temples at the realization that you are alone in your head.

“Tch tch, my little darling. Mage, again.” The man’s voice is deep, rumbling, and you feel the flicker of a long, thin tongue lap at your cheek. You won’t forget how he loves the taste of your tears.

****

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5.

Masterlist

[nkn0va]

Ok, so do think that you can do relationship hcs for Cynthia, Lusamine, Diantha from Pokemon?

The fact that a Pokemon request of all things took so damn long is baffling but whatever. Minimalistic post since I don't have banners for Pokemon and I don't feel like going through Tumblr gifs to find a decent one for everyone.

God this took way too long. Writer's block struck at the worst possible time.

Cynthia

-Cynthia's occupation as champion keeps her quite busy. Neither of you particularly enjoy this but that's just how the cookie crumbles as they say.

-Despite that, she's surprisingly good at separating work from her personal life. When the League's finding itself in a slow season and new trainers aren't running amok around Sinnoh she'll always manage to find time for you.

-She's extremely supportive of whatever you do and will be there all the way. Wanna be a trainer too? Congratulations, you have a world class mentor. Wanna be an archeologist, she will nerd out about ancient mythology with you all you want and join you on your excavations. Anything you wanna do, Pokemon-related or not, has her full support.

-Between her mythological studies on the side with her work and training as champion, there are moments she overworks herself. You'll need to play the role of caretaker and bring her back down to Earth.

-Of course despite this, it doesn't stop her from doing the same for you when necessary. Gently pushing you to go to sleep, preparing a fresh cup of your favorite warm drink, or knocking you out with a bat hugging you from behind to relax you.

-Her Pokemon quickly form an attachment to you, they see her family as theirs, too. Seeing her terrifying, nightmare inducing Garchomp acting like a big puppy will never get old.

-If you have a team of their own, they get quite protective, especially the unevolved, inexperienced ones. At least until you end up catching up to them, which they eventually will under their tutelage.

Lusamine

-Realistically, you really only get close enough to be in a relationship if you start as an employee at the Aether Foundation. Your hard-working attitude and sincere kindness towards the Pokemon they take care of quickly grabs her attention. Something about you just stood out even among the similar employees working under her.

-The relationship instantly is declared to be a secret, she still needs to keep a professional appearance at work. In private though is a different story.

-Once you do manage to win Lusamine's heart, she's extremely attached and clingy. Considering how her last relationship ended, she will not let you go. And you can bet that you're not touching anything involving Ultra Wormholes with a 40 foot pole.

-Very physically clingy all around despite what your first impressions of her might have been. It's a pleasant surprise when she finally drops the professional facade around you and craves gentle intimacy.

-It's only natural that Lillie and Gladion quickly become a big part of your life considering how big of a part they are in Lusamine's. Being there for them is a requirement in your relationship.

-It takes a while for them to warm up to you, but they do eventually. Lillie's much more open about it, happy to have a second parent in her life again. Gladion does try to keep up the edgy persona, but he does become fond of you, albeit shown very subtly.

-It's a very surprisingly domestic relationship after the whole Ultra Space incident. A very happy family picture with Lillie and Gladion around.

Diantha.

-Much like the last two ladies, very busy. Being a champion and a movie star means she's not exactly swimming in free time. Whenever you two do get to go out together, disguises are needed thanks to her fame.

-Dating Diantha means your fashion sense sees a noticeable improvement. Mostly to have effective disguises so you can go out in public without being hounded by paparazzi. It's actually quite pleasant when it works.

-You learn to spot her out in public regardless of what she's wearing as she beckons you over to a nice cafe or restaurant she wants to try with you. Kalos is known for it's exquisite fine dining, whatever gets her approval is bound to be the good stuff.

-The public is inevitably soon going to find out you're dating THE Diantha. You're gonna become a bit of a celebrity yourself whether you like it or not. If you're pursuing anything to do for a living, you're at the very least gonna get eyes on it, fortunately. You two immediately become Kalos' power couple.

-If you have a Pokemon capable of Mega Evolution, Diantha will be your number one fan and mentor in helping you achieve that power. She's about the best you could ask for in this regard, her ace is a Psychic type that she Mega Evolves, after all.

-Despite all the glamor and lights, she does crave something of a domestic life. She very much appreciates a more traditional partner there for the long run who wants the same thing. To her, buying a house and settling down is her ultimate goal, and showing you want the same makes you two pretty much set for life.

[ash5monster01]

could I request some randall floyd angst…

Why You?

Pairing: Randall ‘Pink’ Floyd x FemReader

Warnings: angst, lots of arguing, heavy sarcasm, misguided hatred, admitting feelings, fluff

Summary: Everyone held Pink up on some high pedestal, worshipping him as a King of the school. It was your job to knock him down a peg.

word count: 2k

Masterlist

The roll of your eyes is so heavy nearly no one misses it. Especially Pink who instantly shoots a glare your way. It was silly how instantly you were annoyed by him, him simply showing up late to the study hall where you sat amongst all your shared friends. They all jokingly cheered when he had finally made an appearance but you found no reason to applaud. Pink was just another guy no matter what all your friends thought.

“Nice to see you too Angel” Pink smirks at you, slinking into the only open seat by your side. You scowl at the nickname, him only calling you that since you acted anything but.

“Give him a break” Cynthia whispers in your ear and you sigh, plastering on a fake smile as you look at the boy.

“Nice to see you to Pink, how’s your day?” the sarcasm is heavy, dripping like venom from your tongue and Cynthia instantly has her head in her hands.

“It’s delightful Angel, will be even better when I see you at O’Bannion’s party tonight” his overly nice voice reacts to your own. You roll your eyes again before looking to Cynthia and Mike who had definitely blabbed. Tony wouldn’t blow you in like that.

“Good luck with that” you say as the bell the rings, the boy having nearly missed the entire period from whatever dilly dallying he had done. You don’t give him a chance to respond as you collect your books and start for the parking lot, eager to leave this school.

“I don’t understand why you don’t like him, he’s done nothing to you” Cynthia says catching up with and you sigh, fixing the bag on your shoulder as you continue down the hall.

“He’s annoying. All proud and cocky just because he’s some football star. All of you look at him like he hand created earth and personally I prefer to worship a different kind of higher being” you explain and Cynthia chuckles, shaking her head as she looks at you. After a few dates with Wooderson she had really come out of her shell. A little less afraid to tell you what she thinks.

“It’s not that. We look at him like that because he’s the nicest guy. He’s friends with everyone and genuinely cares about each of us. That includes you” she tells you, almost amused how you don’t see it. That Pink was as loved as he was for just being a good guy. That was something you were not used too.

“Whatever, I’ll see you at 7” is all you say before shoving your sunglasses onto your face and disappearing into the flurry of students on their way to their vehicles.

Cynthia sees you again at 7 o’clock sharp, standing on the curb, features illuminated by the glow of the joint pressed between your fingers. When you spot her you take one that final hit of the roach before dropping it to the cement and stomping it out. She one day wished to be as cool as you. Which was funny because you didn’t think you were cool, not even the slightest, especially as you slid into Cynthia’s car to attend a party you didn’t even want to in the first place.

“What, no Tony or Mike?” you ask, eyes a little hazed and relaxed smile on your face. Cynthia wished you could be this version of you around Pink. Not so tense and worked up. This was the version of you that had come to be her best friend.

“They caught a ride with Pink” you roll your eyes, a common notion at the mention of the long haired boy and Cynthia just chuckles. So stubborn.

“Whatever, I need a drink. Lets go” you tell her, dropping your lighter back into your bag and turning to radio up on a Lynryd Skynryd song.

The party is in full blast when you arrive, bodies of students littering the yard and clearly stuffy house. It looks like the last place you want to be but the idea of an alcohol strong enough to get you through the night being in that very kitchen was encouragement enough. So you step out of Cynthia’s car anyway and stalk towards it, the heavy music getting louder and louder with each step. More and more familiar faces waving and smiling.

“Hey I see Wooderson, I’ll be right back” Cynthia calls, smile wide and you don’t even fight it. Even if she’s left you alone it clearly makes her happy to be pursued by an older guy.

“Okay, I’ll grab us some drinks” you call back but she’s already halfway across the yard in the direction of Wooderson and Slater who share a heavy a joint. You just shake your head in amusement and duck inside the home.

Navigating the sea of bodies is difficult, especially when you’re not entirely sure where you’re going. Finally after two wrong turns you’re welcomed to a kitchen with an island covered in various liquors and a punch bowl that was guaranteed to be lethal. The only bodies were a few boys surrounding the kegs along the wall so you’re quick to help yourself. Actually a touch excited to let loose and have this moment just to yourself.

“Here, let me” the familiar voice makes you scowl. The warmth of his body to close in your space, the loose blue shirt unbuttoned one to many, and long brown hair bouncing softly.

“I can handle myself” you tell him, side stepping and continuing to mix your drinks as you had intended. Pink just chuckles, shaking his own head at you.

“Nothing I do will be good enough for you huh?” the question has caught you off guard, freezing under his stare as you bring one of the finished drinks to your lips and taking a much needed sip.

“I don’t know what you want from me Pink, so what one person doesn’t like you?” You tell him with the shake of your head, setting the cup down as you deem the drink consumable.

“Yeah but that one person is you!” he states, exasperated and annoyance run thin towards you. It brings you to look him in the eye, shocked he was actually losing his temper with you for once. You wonder what his words mean, why it made any difference at all.

“Look Pink, go out there and enjoy the high life. You’re the king of the school, you might’ve already peaked, so enjoy it while you can” your words are mean and the way he winces makes guilt swirl in your stomach.

“That’s the very thing Angel, I don’t want to peak. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life saying these were the best years of my life. I’ve done nothing but try to be your friend and it’s killing me” he says, stepping closer and facing you. In this proximity the height difference is noticeable. Pink didn’t always look like a football star but his size would surprise you when you least expected.

“Why? Why do we need to be friends? You’re friends with literally everyone else. I’m nothing special” you argue back and Pink groans, actually annoyed with how fucking oblivious you were.

“Because Angel, I like you. I like that you’re stubborn and I like that you do your own thing. I wish I was cool enough to go against everything I knew and still be acknowledged for it. I especially like when you make snide comments at me and it makes me want to kiss the scowl straight off your face!” he rants, determined to make you get it. To finally push some sense through that thick skull of yours. You tense at his words, never would you have expected Pink to be into you.

“So you’re telling me that I’ve done nothing but treat you like shit for years and instead of hating me, you’re into me?” you ask, a little baffled and trying to reel your thoughts in. It’s not like you thought Pink was ugly, in fact you’ve had to remove your stare quite a few times. Yet even you couldn’t explain your distaste towards him. Then that’s when it hits you, that all this anger directed toward him had been you trying to ignore your attraction. You were embarrassed for being just like everyone else and falling head over heels for Randall Floyd.

“Yeah Angel, gonna harass me for that one too?” he asks, seeing the thoughts flashing behind your eyes. Clearly gears were turning, trying to comprehend and react accordingly. Yet he had broken your normally quick witted brain. Struggling you’re unsure what to say or even do, until you shock you both.

A shaky hand grasps the blue shirt on his form, tugging him close and going against everything you stand for. Pinks eyes widen as you lift on your toes and seal your lips against his own. What’s the most surprising is how it isn’t weird, in fact it feels normal. Especially the way heat pools in your stomach and urges you to kiss him more. Just when his hands lift to hold you close, you’re pulling back, eyes blinking and trying to decide if that had been the best move. Your hand is still gripped on his shirt while Pink stays silent.

“I think I finally discovered an effective way to shut you up” you finally say, breaking the heavy silence between you both and Pink snorts. Your smile wide as you look at him wearing a smile that matches his own. He never thought there’d be a day you finally would smile at him like that.

“Does this mean you’re not gonna be mean to me anymore?” he curiously asks and you roll your eyes, yet this time it’s in a loving way. Now he could get used to that.

“That I can’t guarantee, but I would like to kiss you again” your honestly shocks him but he removes your hand from his shirt and takes it into his own anyway.

“Then let’s get out of here, I only came to this damn party because I heard you were going to be here” he tells you and you blush, feeling like a fool when not so long ago you rued his existence.

“And what do we tell our friends?” you ask and Pink smirks, clearly devious and unashamed. Whether it embarrassed you or not, he finally got what he wanted.

“The truth, that you can’t keep your hands off me so we have to go somewhere a little less crowded” and with your free hand you hit him softly, but he continues to grin.

“I think that’s the other way around Mr. I like everything about you” you mock and he laughs, pulling you close. You almost hate how nice this is, not hating him for once. Cynthia was right and now you could only hope you wouldn’t screw this up.

“At least I’m not embarrassed about it” he whispers, face close enough you could kiss him just as easily as before. His arms slowly snaking around your waist as your palm lands on the bareness of his chest. It’s makes butterflies ignite in your stomach.

“Now this is not what I was expecting to see” Tony’s voice breaks your attention off each other. You’re red in an instant but Pink won’t let you step away, holding you flush against him and proud of it.

“Angel isn’t feeling good, I’m going to drive her home” yet the look on Pinks face says anything but the excuse he had just given. Cynthia and the others standing behind Tony entirely amused.

“I told him I could walk, this is kidnap” but the squeeze to your side has you jumping at the ticklish touch and sealing your lips closed.

“The delusion has already set in, we better go” and he gives no one any more room to talk as he drags you out of the house and towards his El Camino. When you’re both shut inside all he does his smile before sliding across the front seat.

“You’re something else” you mutter just before he seals his lips against your own.

[billietherock]

There was no Weirdmageddon (Pt8)

By: Billietherock

Chapter 3 (Pt2)- Cynthia Grey and Fiddleford Mcgucket

Police swarm the base of Rocky Mountain National park. Mutters surrounding the poor young widow sitting alone on a bench. She plays with her wedding ring as tears silently drip down her cheeks.

Her name is Cynthia Grey, a young agent from the FBI. Right now she was waiting for the recovery crew to find her Husband’s body. She remembered from earlier that day, when her husband Atlas took their new camera. He was an experienced hiker so she didn’t think much of it, especially when he said he knew the perfect picture to take.

Cynthia Grey started to weep once again, she was alone… for a while she just stood at the edge of the cliff. Then she stumbled her way down the mountain she found herself here somehow, and a friendly couple called the police for her.

The events keep replaying in her mind as she looks firmly at her wedding ring, she should have stopped him, scolding him or something, and now he’s gone. He’s gone he’s gone he’s-

“Mrs?” A rescue worker puts his hand on her shoulder.

Cynthia looks up and nods,” you found the body?”

The rescue worker seems hesitant, but Cynthia starts to press him,” what’s with that look, please don’t tell me he was alive and suffering all that time.”

The worker sighs, and finally relents,” we would like to tell you that we found the body Mrs… we really would but, all we found were his clothes and backpack.”

He’s even more hesitant for a moment,” it’s almost like he got up and left.”

-

It’s only been two weeks since Bill claimed to make a deal with Stanford Pines. To be honest, Ford is starting to wish he never made that deal with Bill. Ever since he did his thoughts were out of control, without Bill there to calm him down or encourage him he hasn’t been able to just sit down and work.

What’s worse is that Bill seems to be MIA. Not even talking to Stanford when he tries to commune with the demon.

Thoughts began to swirl in the scientist’s mind, that Bill really just packed up and left, that he really was just a pawn to him. Stanford locked himself in his room for days, only leaving to use the restroom, not even eating or drinking. Fiddleford eventually had to break the door down to get him out so he wouldn’t starve.

He was like an addict going through withdrawals, as if Stanford Pines was addicted to Bill. Fiddleford watches as his good friend and lab partner begins to fall into a deep depression.

Another week goes by. Fiddleford opens the door to the cabin they both have been calling home. He walks up the stairs and lightly knocks on the door. Fiddleford was kind of upset to see Ford exactly where he left him. Exhausted, his knees to his chest, and his head in his sweater.

“Hey… Stan I…” he sighs, this was going to be a hard ask of Stanford,” do you have any family I can call?”

Stanford pokes his head out of his sweater,” no. None that will answer.” Stanford whimpers,” my head just… I can’t even think straight… what good am I if I can’t even think.” He puts head head back in his sweater.

Fiddleford sits next to him, he wraps his arm around Ford and signs,” Stanley could answer?”

Ford seems to shrink. Fiddleford quickly thought it was a bad idea to bring up the disowned twin… but at this point Ford’s parents weren’t talking to him either. So maybe there was a small chance that Stanley Pines would pick up the phone.

“We can at least try. You need more support… support I can’t give you. I mean clearly Bill meant a lot to you but… Stan I have to go back to California and I am not comfortable with you staying here alone.” He sighs,” I would offer you the spare room but my wife would kill me.”

A small comment that would normally make Ford chuckle only made him shrink even more. Fiddleford saw the brain waves when Ford was talking with Bill.. it was like he found his better half. Fiddleford ponders what could make him not like this… maybe if Bill used him and betrayed him or something.

“Stan. I’m serious. Give me a number to call so someone can take care of you. Please.”

Stanford is quiet for a moment before he points to a notebook on his desk. Fiddleford pats his back before taking the notebook and flipping through it. It seemed to be more of a diary, the most recent pages being very concerning, just being pictures of Bill.

Fiddleford quickly found what he was looking for. He frowned as he saw do not contact under Ford’s parents names and the numbers scribbled out in red ink, but under Stanley’s name there was about a dozen numbers, the most recent one circled.

Fiddleford writes down the number and smiles gently at Stanford, who had fallen onto his side. Fiddleford runs to a pay phone down by the bus stop. He fumbles with the numbers, since it was starting to get cold at night and he forgot his gloves, before getting the right number in.

He puts in his coins and puts in the correct number, he waits expectantly not knowing where Stanford would end up if Stanley didn’t pick up. He turns around, he felt like he was being watched… but there was no one there. Not yet anyway.

After a few rings, someone picks up the phone.

[agaypanic]

Grumpy Malcolm With a Sunshine Reader Headcanons

Masterlist

Request Something!

A/N: holy shit i finally posted a fic. i posted this separately bc the ask was a bit lengthy and i didn’t want the whole post to feel bulky or anything

***

It was so weird for everyone when you first got together

You’re always so positive and energetic

Meanwhile, Malcolm hates everything and thinks the world sucks

Before you get together, it’s kinda like him and Cynthia where he likes you and stuff, but is slightly put off by your energy

“Hey, Malcolm!” The boy jolted, not expecting such an energetic greeting at seven in the morning. You plopped down into the seat next to him and took out a notebook.

“Hey, Y/n,” Malcolm responded, much more toned down compared to you.

You tossed your bundle of glitter gel pens onto the desk, letting them scatter around as you looked at your friend. “So, what did you do this weekend?”

Malcolm sighed. Francis and Piama had come to visit, which usually excited him. But those two days were filled with passive aggressiveness and backhanded comments between the couple and his mom. “Watched TV.” Malcolm usually liked complaining about his crazy family, but he figured he’d spare you from it because he didn’t want to take you out of your giddy mood. “What about you? What did you do?”

You were lucky that class wouldn’t start for a few more minutes, because you immediately went into an excited ramble about what you did over the weekend. To Malcolm, your energy made things as mundane as doing the dishes sound interesting.

Malcolm puts off you meeting his family as long as possible

Which isn’t long, considering his mom would find out pretty quick that you two are dating

He’s so worried that his family is gonna embarrass him and scare you off

But by the end of the night, he doesn’t know if he should be happy or scared that you actually like his family

You and Malcolm hadn’t even reached the front door yet, and you could already hear yelling and glass breaking. Malcolm cringed at the noises, putting a hesitant hand on the doorknob before looking at you. “Are you sure you wanna meet my family? I don’t know if you could tell, but we aren’t exactly… normal.”

“Malcolm, I don’t care if your family’s crazy.” You said comfortingly, giving him a peck on the lips. “I wanna meet them. Besides, I bet it’ll be fun!”

Your boyfriend didn’t really share your thoughts, but they gave him the push he needed to open the door and welcome you into the house. 

As soon as you stepped out of the front family room and into the kitchen, you and Malcolm were met with chaos. Lois was trying to cook, but kept getting distracted and yelling at Reese and Dewey, who kept shouting and fighting each other. Malcolm’s youngest brother, Jamie, wandered around the house, dropping toys without looking back at them. They would either make people yelp from accidentally stepping on them or be thrown at the two fighting brothers. The whole place seemed to be a complete mess. The only person who seemed unaffected by the environment was Hal, who was sitting at the dinner table drinking coffee and reading a newspaper.

You nudged Malcolm, your bright smile contrasting his horrified look. “See? This looks fun!”

Sometimes, your energy can be a little much for Malcolm

Not that he would ever tell you that

It’s just that he’s so used to people around him drawing attention for one reason or another

And sometimes, he just wants to lay low

But if anyone ever tells you to calm down or to “stop being so weird,” he’s gonna fight them

Sitting at lunch with your friends, you were talking your boyfriend’s ear off. Everyone except Malcolm seemed to tune out you talking about some artist’s new album you had been listening to. Although Malcolm was a bit tired from his classes, he nodded along and added comments whenever he felt necessary.

But for the most part, he just listened to you talk. “And now she’s going on tour, and she’s gonna be playing at a place that’s only like an hour away from us. We totally have to go, Mal!”

“Maybe,” Malcolm responded, thinking about how many extra shifts he’d probably have to pick up at the Lucky Aide to afford the tickets. “But remember, Y/n, it’s not guaranteed we’ll be able to get tickets.”

“I have hope.” You shrugged. “But before we go, you gotta listen to the album first. I think you’d like it, Mal. Oh my gosh, there’s this one song that I think could totally be our song, you know what I mean? It’s called-”

“Oh my God.” Reese appeared behind you and Malcolm, staring at you with some displeasure. “Y/n, do you ever. Shut. Up?”

All you did was blink at Reese, wondering how or if you should respond.

But Malcolm came to your defense immediately. “How about you shut up, Reese?”

“Oh, come on, Malcolm,” Reese said, rolling his eyes. “You have to admit that it gets annoying with her talking all the time.”

Instead of replying, Malcolm jumped out of his seat and pounced on his brother, taking him to the floor. Part of you wanted to try to break up the fight. But despite all the violence, you thought it was sweet of Malcolm to defend you with such urgency.

And as much as Malcolm wanted to distance himself from it, he would probably always attract attention and bring chaos. But as long as you liked it, he supposed he didn’t mind it as much.

***

Malcolm in the Middle Taglist: @rattilol

[starlightsuffered]

Me and You (p 1)

Info - pushy friend, unrequited feelings, comfort from a stranger, fake dating

“I said no at least twelve times,” I said with an edge to my voice.

“Come on, you’ll like it. I promise I’ll show you a good time,” Dean said with a smirk.

“I-“

“Come on y/n,” Jeanie said with an oddly predatory smile. “You’re not seeing anyone else. You could give him a chance.”

“I did, when you set us up. Do you remember how awful that went Dean?” I asked through gritted teeth. I kept the smile on my face but let some of my hostility seep through. If I were a better, more confident, I’d do more than passive aggressive comments.

“Y/n you really should-“

“Sorry I am late darling,” said a random voice. A man came up to me and easily slid his hand around my waist.

He was absolutely gorgeous. He was tall, with dark curls, and electric green eyes. He was very thin. I didn’t know why he came to my rescue. Did he want something?

“What’s going on?” Dean asked with dark eyes.

“This is my boyfriend,” I explained, taking the opportunity.

“Timothée,” he said immediately and stuck out his hand for a handshake.

“So YOU are y/n’s plus one to Cynthia’s wedding?” Dean asked skeptically.

“Yes… indeed,” the stranger did pause but didn’t break.

“How long have you been dating. Y/n never told us about you,” Jeanie asked. She slammed down her plastic cup on the table beside her. Her eyebrows were furrowed.

“Not long,” Timothée admitted, but then he gave me such a sweet look that I couldn’t have melted.

“Well, she likes to be a little cagey about our relationship, don’t you Mon amour,” Timothée asked teasingly. I was surprised by the French. It took my breath away honestly.

“I’m gonna get another drink,” Dean grumbled. He looked back several times, sending glares my way. Jeanie excused herself too. I wasn’t quite sure why she kept suggestions Dean to me. It was seriously draining.

“Thanks for that,” I sighed to the man.

“No problem,” he offered.

“You do this a lot?”

“Save damsels in distress? All the time I’m a valiant knight don’t you know,” he said this and winked at me.

“Oh please,” I rolled my eyes. I began to walk out. My heels clicked on the floor. I felt a gentle and soft hand grab my arm.

“Can I know your name?” Timothée asked.

I scribbled on a napkin. I added my name and number. I just needed to get out of here. I offered the piece to him. He took it warily.

“I never had someone do that for me, thank you, Timothée,” I smiled. I left them and didn’t answer Dean and Jeanie’s weird calls.

T POV

I had been enchanted by that girl the other night. I knew I’d come off as confident but I wanted her. She’s bewitched me in a way.

It was on the fifth day that I got the text.

“You know how I said my friends are crazy? Ellen, the girl who is getting married, texted me so happy that I sound a man. Want to come to a wedding?”

@pmak2002 @softhecreator @plutoispurplw @sp1deyyf4ngz @seungcheol17daddy @jesschalamet @vvsdreaming