#if it's the glasses that i wear at home.......meh

[tsuyalovebot]

don't make me wait forever.

pairing: xia yi zhou / caleb x reader (love and deepspace)

cw: sfw. semi-prominent reader characterization (spoiled, occasional use of she/her pronouns, referred to as a "little sister" once). kisses. casual touches. throat holding (both by reader and by caleb). use of "older brother" to address caleb (not by reader). pipsqueak as a term of endearment. reader wears makeup. some spoilers from tender moments, memoria, and bond story. caleb typical warnings (manipulation if you squint).

wc: roughly 3-4k words. unnecessary word vomit.

author's note: a man who yearns is a man who EARNS. hi, it's me again! i had an idea and had to bring it to life. enjoy! ( ^ -. ^ )

Caleb wasn't lying when he said he spoiled you too much as children.

You didn't quite get it at first—he was nothing but sweet with the occasional menace during childhood, sure, but he didn't spoil you spoil you.

You were leaning into his chest, eyes closed while listening to the TV in the background as his large arm wraps itself around your waist. Tucking you against him, feeling his lips against the crown of your head.

"I baby you too much," he sighed, a mellow cheeriness beneath his words.

"And yet, you sound so happy over it," you grumbled. Sleep is so close yet so far, and you'd been squirming around in search of the closest boarding gate. His touch delicate as he pulled you onto his lap.

You snuggled closer on instinct. Picking up on the faint smell of sandalwood and something finer, richer. There was movement on your back, Caleb's palm stroking up and down, while the other held you by the back of your neck like an infant.

"I spoiled you, too."

You frowned, looked at him blearily. "Nuh-uh."

"Uh-huh." He pushed your head back onto his shoulder. "Go to sleep."

Sure, Caleb took extensive measures to ensure your comfortable upbringing with him. But you weren't spoiled.

Right?

But you go on your first date with someone that isn't him, and it kind of hits. Making an offhanded comment about how the water temperature was more cold than warm—you asked for room temp—doesn't result in your date immediately requesting another glass or them buying you bottled water from the convenience store across the restaurant.

Instead, you're told, "they probably forgot, it's fine" and the date continues. You watch the condensation form on your glass quietly. Every rational droplet is speaking to your acrid gut feeling—it's just water. It'll be room temperature eventually.

Later on, your date messages you. They asked if you got home safely, all the while you'd been drinking a glass of lukewarm water in Caleb's dining room. You pressed block once you heard his familiar, curious voice asking how the date went.

"It was meh." And you asked for another glass.

Another time, you'd been hanging out with old high school friends as a simple gathering. Though, you hadn't expected that it would lead to seemingly endless anecdotes in relation to you. Over fruit smoothies and café pastries, they'd all been exchanging stories once the conversation turns over to yourself in high school.

"Remember when she would always ask us to do stuff?" One girl laughed, cutting into her french toast.

Another cleared her throat, exaggerating her voice into a falsetto, "hey, can you get me a bun from the cafeteria? Oh, there's no more? Then, a banana milk and whatever pastry they have."

It earned a crackle of laughter along the table of five people. You, the object of discussion, smiling at the head of the table. Rather awkwardly, too, as you sipped on your drink.

"You forgot to add on the "you can do that at least, right?" at the end!"

"Oh, oh, the sulking too, if you don't do it!"

"She'd always complain about our fans, too."

"Oh my God, yeah. "Why does your fan battery run out so quickly? Did you not charge it?" Like, hello?"

One of the girls face you amidst the active exchange, grinning. Despite the recollection of your nature in the past, they weren't mad. Simply taking the entertainment value in it.

"Don't worry," and she said your name, placing a hand over yours on the table.

"You've got an older brother, right? It may have been annoying, but we're friends. You were like, our little sister."

A muscle in your jaw ticked. His face popped up in your face and you wanna punch him, despite him being nowhere near you at the time of this event. But, you laughed and nodded; acquiescing to her reassurance was easier this way.

It slipped out once more when you go out for movies with Tara. It's the same theater you and Caleb always frequented before. You already swiped your card for payment of movie food, and had besn walking to the screening room.

"Tara, can you check the bucket? Make sure it has enough butter on it?"

"Hm? Okay," she replied. While you scrolled on your phone, you heard the plastic lid of the bucket pop open.

"Seems good to me. You check."

When you move your attention over to the bucket, you're met with mediocre-looking buttered popcorn. The golden syrup of butter scattered over the pieces. You frowned. Since when were they so shy about buttering literal corn?

You stopped walking, brows furrowed. "It's so... pale. Let's go back and ask for more, I didn't pay for that."

"Huh? Oh, okay?" You didn't really register Tara's confused tone of voice until after you had a spat with the person at the popcorn station.

It was some moody teen probably working minimum wage. He was scowling while you talked about the butter portioning.

He sneered, "over some popcorn? Really? Were you that spoiled as a kid?"

It winded you. Tara was pulling at your arm, seeming to try and hold you back despite you being frozen. The manager came out once the commotion seems to stop, only because you were gobsmacked.

He'd been apologizing profusely to you and Tara upon recognizing you both as hunters; his eyes had landed on you with so much familiarity. He's probably been working here for a decade or so. Long enough to have previously seen you and Caleb at movie screenings.

Tara's at the butter dispenser of the self-service station—something they closed over half a decade ago apparently, but frantically opened for today, coincidentally—with you behind her when she finally spoke

She was a bit bewildered, but it was easy to pick up the lighthearted tone. "I didn't take you for the pampered type. That was the normal amount of butter on popcorn for most places."

You shook your head. "No, it wasn't. I was a regular here in the past. Every time we got a bucket of popcorn, they were always so generous with the salted butter."

"By yourself?"

"No, with my friend."

There'd been a pause between you two. She pressed the lid back into place and begun shaking it, the popcorn rattling. Then, she turned to you, like she knew something that you didn't.

"And you never once thought this friend scared the employees into putting extra butter for you back then?"

It always went back to him.

Whenever you'd go to a colleague's place and bore holes into the crooked cuts of the apple slices on a plate, you found yourself recalling Caleb's expert cuts. These ones weren't even red delicious apples.

You're a bit peeved when the food from the monthly catering service at the Association doesn't taste the same way that Caleb makes it, even though the food is the same kind and recipe.

Your next trip to Skyhaven is definitely highly anticipated. You're been exhausted and haggard for the past few days. It only amplifies as the day stretches on, grimacing when Caleb opens the door. He's surprised to see you, panting and sweaty in his white tanktop. Fresh from a workout, most likely. It makes you a bit, a tiny bit, mad.

"Pipsqueak? What's the occasion?"

"You," you hiss, releasing your hold on your suitcases. You kick off your shoes as you push your way into his place, pointing an accusing finger to his chest.

Caleb's confused. It's clear in the furrow of his brow and frantic blinking that his synapses are doing rapid fire checking of what today is, what he's said or done recently, what stores are on sale, and what snacks you need.

Despite being the one who said he himself spoiled you, he clearly has no idea how it's manifested in your life, and it pisses you off even more.

"I'm the occasion?" He squawks, confused. "It's too early for my birthday—"

"You and your stupid past self. I should have your head on a stake," you bark, slamming your fists onto his pecs, pushing him further into his own home.

He laughs a bit, still completely in the dark, but his voice gets a bit more pitchy.

He leans down, cranes his gargantuan ass down to your height. It's polite. You know this, he's done it countless times. But your gut speaks to you. You're going to throttle him.

"Huh? What did I do?"

"You piss me off!"

His face softens with concern. His hands come up, ghosting over yours. He murmurs your name—

Then you're gripping him by the neck. You get to drink in the way his eyes widen to saucers as your fingers delicately wrap around his throat, palms on either side. You don't squeeze, and instead, aggressively shake him. "Pipsqueak?"

"You spoiled me!" You shriek, voice shrill with accusation.

Frustration, the buildup from the past couple of weeks comes to full fruition in this very moment. It's only for a split second that you see realization dawn on Caleb's face before you continue yelling.

"I relied on others to get me snacks because of you, I complain over batteries because of you, now I want specific water temperatures, I can't stand pale popcorn because you demanded extra butter, I'm picky over food—"

"Hey—"

"Don't you hey me, mister!" You jut your finger up at his face, and he shuts his mouth instantly. "I'm like this, because of you!"

You don't miss the glitter of mirth in those stupidly ethereal eyes of his, and it's wholly unreal how your anger amplifies when you notice his twitching lips. He found this funny.

"You're laughing?" You whisper, low and indignant. You squeeze his throat, feel his breath pass under the skin. Adrenaline riveting and real in the low thrum of your heartbeat.

"I'm here, devastated over the effect of your stupid actions on my life, and you're laughing?"

"Devastated?" Caleb echoes. The idiot sounded delighted over this. Like he was finding a great deal of validation in your admission.

A grin quirks his lips into its signature, charming curve, and he's leaning down into you some more. One of his hands sliding over yours with a gentleness only he could emulate. Your resolve stutters, and he's quick to take advantage of that.

"Oh, please, pipsqueak." He chuckles. "That's not true and you know it."

His fingers gently slide between the gaps of yours, making room for himself and filling the emptiness. Effectively peeling them away from his throat, and doing the same to the other hand. You relent, letting your arms hang loosely at your sides.

Caleb's still smiling when he takes a step forward, crowding your space now. It doesn't register that he's cornered you until your back is flat to the closed door and you're surrounded by him and everything about him.

The very man who's fed you every granule, acquainted you with the taste of having the world at your every whim. A charged zap runs up the base of your spine when he lifts your chin.

"If you were really devastated, you'd have come here cryin' instead. You'd be on your knees, weepin' over how I've ruined you. Not yelling and screaming and accusing me," he coos, sickly sweet. His thumb rubbing below your lower lip.

"Are you done? Do you feel better after getting it all off your chest?"

His gaze feels abysmal. Two pools of an oceanic depth, spatial and intergalactic and beyond your comprehension. Hungry.

Something darker lurks there. That one look that flickers in and out of conversations whenever you're close to him, or when the topic tilts into something that you know you shouldn't be touching. Like he's satiated, but still craving more and more. You feel small under it every time.

"Even a kid knows how to manipulate their guardian into givin' them what they want."

The double meaning, one of comparing you to an immature brat, isn't lost on you. Heat crawls up your skin as your cheeks round with the scrunch of your nose. Ready to retaliate with equal venom, even if his words weren't inherently insulting.

But, before you even could, the expression on his face stops you in your tracks.

It's like looking at the colonel. Caleb cocks his head to the side, expression clinically cold. "When someone is speaking, we?"

He stares. He's waiting for a response, you realize.

You finish his sentence, pacified. "We listen."

"Good. Seems you still have the manners I taught you."

Your face heats up.

That stupidly patient smile on his lips was grating on your nerves, far more than any revelation of his ingrained presence in your every action, thought, word, and emotion.

His thumb is soon pressed flush to your lips. He isn't prying it open like he did before, instead rubbing the pad of his thumb along your lips, caressing the divot of your cupid's bow. He's playing with the glossy texture and film of your lippie, smearing it past the corner of your lips.

The first thing you want to do is push him away. Shove him, hard, and make space between the two of you so that your train of thought could return. Yet, the softness that decorates his grape-colored irises was making you hesitate. He's an annoying guy, someone who gets on your nerves, with featherlight caresses and an admiration so sincere.

Rouge stains the pad of his digit when he draws it back. He's curious, his gaze thoughtful as he examines the pigment. Then, you're watching as he lifts it to his mouth with a deliberate kiss. Lashes fluttering over his cheekbones.

When he drops his hand, the scarlet pigment is smeared over his lips like a brand.

You're burning alive. You reach up, immediately trying to wipe it from his lips. "You—"

"Weirdo? I know." Caleb catches your hand with ease, beaming with half-lidded eyes. "Buuut, you're just as weird as me for lettin' me do that, y'know."

He's making a point. You're going to gut him alive, you think to yourself. In stealing an indirect kiss from you, he's replicating every scenario you've ever bared yourself to him. How easy it is, to melt in one's earnest wonder and affection, unable to say no.

In an attempt to regain your composure, you scowl with all the feigned vitriol you could muster. "You're even weirder for condoning my every action."

He cocks his head, like he was reloading a couple memories from the past. The countless times he let you get away with things.

"It's... not that easy for me, pipsqueak."

"Yes, it is." You huff and free your hand from his grip. Settling your palms flat over his chest, fingers curling into the stretchy fabric. "Telling me no couldn't have been that hard."

"Yeah?" He teases. "You think it's that simple for me?"

"Grandma could handle me."

Caleb deadpans at your mention of her, his face relaxing into something like bemusement.

"If Gran or I took away your stuffed animal to clean it, you'd kick and scream and cry. If I denied you of your favorite food or a candy apple, you'd say you hate me."

You blink. That wasn't the response you were expecting. All of a sudden, you feel like someone's wiped your mind of everything you've ever known, and redefined your recollections of childhood. Embarrassment crawls up your face in burning streaks.

"Gran could handle you?" He repeats, shakes his head with a sad look.

There's a pained aspect to his current physiognomy, the furrow of his brow, the deepened set of his mouth. "That's because it's her. Of course, she wouldn't mind your cries. But I did."

He crouches, and for a moment, it was as if he was falling. The sunlight filtered in through the glass of the door behind your head, catching on the nutty brown strands of his hair. Cradling his head against the junction of your neck and shoulder, hiding away his face.

"I didn't want you to hate me." He admits, the words fanned over your throat. You inhale deeply, and his familiar scent invades your senses. You hope that stupid central organ wasn't too loud, or else he'd hear the beating of your pulse working double time.

Caleb's a constant in your life. He was a pillar, from youth 'til now, that never failed to offer you assistance regardless of the circumstances. You knew him to be reliable, persistent, generous. Perhaps it plays into the way he's coated your teeth in sugar, nipping at your enamel in a thick film that tastes of sweetness.

Yet seeing him like this, frustrated and amused and annoyed—it was unfounded.

"I didn't know much." The vulnerability was low yet blaring. "I just knew I didn't want you to hate me. I knew I loved seeing you happy. And if I denied you, you weren't happy."

It's too black and white. So childish and simplified. It's an easygoing description of his feelings toward you during early youth, one that could easily be swallowed up and consumed by the nasty nature of the world.

Yet, you card your fingers through his hair. Press your lips to his temple all the same, and listen to his utterances.

Your bottom lip is jutting out before you can stop yourself. And in spite of his own admissions, the uncomfortable nakedness that comes with it, you mumble a pointed, "you made me high maintenance."

"You're only figurin' that out now?" He snickers against your skin and the subsequent vibrations make you jump. "Pipsqueak, everyone's known you're high maintenance."

You protest, "that's not true."

"Yes," he says, amused. "It is."

Peeling away from your neck, Caleb's face is less grave now. Relief floods your senses and you cup his face, smoothing over the corners of his lip to wipe away the frowns. There's a weight behind you that isn't the door, his palm a welcome touch as his fingers splay over the small of your back.

His other hand resting on the side of your throat, fingers resting on your nape and thumb rubbing the ridge of your jaw. The motion is soothing, and you close your eyes to memorize its rhythm.

"Even if you're high maintenance, I'm the one who caused it. Allegedly."

You bristle and your eyes fly open, "allegedly? There's proof—"

"Ah-ah."

Caleb's brows are raised on his forehead as you pipe down, amused by how quick you were to correct your behavior.

"Much better. As I was saying."

Despite the extra firmness to his voice, his touch on you was nothing short of gentle. Like your body was carved from marble, reinforced by a fragile porcelain, he does that thing where he tilts your head with the hand on your neck. His thumb rubbing your earlobe.

But the most violating part had to be those intense, smoldering eyes that beheld you with utmost priority. How did you ever think he didn't care for you?

Caleb's tone of voice is chiding. "You're high maintenance because of me, and that makes you mine to maintain."

He's talking down to you. Treating you like one would to a child learning how to tie their shoelaces, his voice chiseled with the vines of condescension. Heartbeat speeding in your chest, distinguishing your heartbeat from your rampant thoughts became far more difficult.

The little smile that's on his lips seems manic. Far away, distant, as you slide your hands over his pecs. A shudder ripples over your skin.

"After all, it's my fault for making sure you're comfortable. It's my fault for prioritizing you above all else, as children and as adults." He starts, chillingly calm. He shakes his head to himself with a deep sigh, and tilts your head back against the door. Examining you with an unblinking, almost detached visage. Yet, his words were anything but, thick with emotion.

You breathe slow, torturous inhales and exhales, feeling Caleb's hand wrap itself around your throat. Alarms ring out in the back of your mind—loud, incessant, disturbing, yet you close your eyes and let him hold you there.

He won't hurt you. He never would, intentionally.

Quietly, like a forbidden fruit to not be consumed or heard, he mutters, "it's my fault for wantin' nothing but the best for you, because it's what you deserve. Nothing less."

Oh, you breathe out.

There's absolutely no pressure to the way he holds your neck. His palm wasn't against the column of your throat, instead, the pads of his thick digits were clasping the skin with a touch so invisible it almost felt nonexistent. When you swallow, the flexed skin presses itself up to his touch.

"Do you really want me to take it back?" Caleb asks, breaking the momentary silence and taking you out of your thoughts.

You blank out for a moment too long. "What?"

"You came over to let me know I've spoiled you beyond reversing repair, without wantin' me to change?"

Why did you come over? Why did you decide to come up to Skyhaven one day, literally days away from your regular times of visiting him? Over something like this? Literal outdated information that you've only recently discovered.

Why? You don't know, but you're rushing to speak, holding onto his top. "That's not what I—"

"It's not what you what?"

He tilts his head down toward you and every coherent thought exits your headspace instantly. God, his eyes. They're darker now. Frustration brimming in the burning fuchscia, the indigo of his irises all-consuming.

"I can stop pamperin' you starting today." He offers.

The surfacing ache in your chest is abrupt, disruptive.

"Starting today, I won't buy your favorite snacks. I won't ever pat your head again. I'll leave you to fend for yourself in every fast food line, and you can get your own stuff when we go shopping. You can even do your shopping alone. Is that what you want?"

No. No, it's not what you want, but how do you express that? An entity, so puissant and arresting, is crawling up your esophagus, scraping at the backs of your teeth, trying to pry your mouth open, and wail its truth into the minimal distance between you and Caleb. It's an ugly feeling, one stripping you down to your base needs.

Pain bleeds into his expression, his eyes only softening as a thought crosses his mind. "Are you gonna tell me you don't need me again?"

"Caleb, no," you manage.

"If not, then what's the problem? It's too late. If I've ruined you, you've destroyed me."

You destroyed him? When? You've never... When have you ever—?

Your chagrin spikes in time with your bewilderment. "I never did anything like that."

Caleb peered into your eyes. Your soul. Questioning, a bit disbelieving. Like he can't really believe your own blindness. An incredulous laugh slipping through his nose when he realizes you weren't lying.

He takes a step forward. You're fully sandwiched between him and the door now, and one of his arms come up to rest above you on the surface. "Caleb–"

"I can't go through the grocery store without thinking of what you want for dinner." He admits, the revelation so tender and tied with candor. Your words die on your tongue and dissolve.

"I can't do my laundry anymore unless it's with your brand of fabric softener, since it reminds me of you. Every time I try on a new jacket, I wonder how it would look good on you."

The information comes pouring out of him like a geyser. And his voice is full of nothing but love. You press your hands to his chest with more force, but he won't budge. Your ears are scalding and you're avoiding his gaze now, his face.

"You dedicated a journal to me. You came to every basketball game." Caleb laughs, breathless. A little in awe of you, so full of adoration. "You always visited Skyhaven when I moved out. You pretended to be my girlfriend. You didn't want me to get a girlfriend. You kissed me at my graduation."

He stutters over himself at the end, sighing deeply and it's making your stomach do flips. "God, you kissed me."

Really? You're burning. Did he have to bring that up?

He's pulling you out of your thoughts yet again, using his hold on your yielding neck to find your gaze once more. You could crumble into ashes right now. In fact, you hoped the floor underneath you would just swallow you whole and leave nothing behind for Caleb to dissect.

"You're think you're spoiled, pipsqueak?" Another laugh, and it's mixed with raspy agony and disbelief, shining in his stare. "I'm rotten."

In Caleb's home, you never really heard much commotion. Simply the low hum of the television in the background, the living room a few paces away. Yet, your heartbeat was the soundtrack to his life, and he's made it his favorite ringtone.

You could feel his own racing heart under your palm. He looks defeated now, conflicted. Oh, Caleb.

"You never wanted me to take it back." He says it to himself. Like he's trying to get himself to believe it.

"You just wanted reassurance that I'd never leave you, no matter how coddled you are."

The heart that's thudding rapidly against your ribcage was so fickle, so naïve. It might jump out of your throat at this rate—God, Caleb could probably feel your pulse like this.

Your mind's racing. There's only one way you could resolve this rift formed from these series of revelations and confessions. You weren't going to lose him again. He has no right to leave after this.

"You're so quiet now. Don't tell me you're thinkin' of runnin' away, pipsqueak." His voice is lighter, more in jest now. The first sign of distance, denial.

You clasp his wrist, and whisper, "I'll take responsibility."

"What?"

"I'll take responsibility. For ruining you. In exchange, take responsibility for me too." You declare, louder. You sound more sure.

He's blinking at you now. Then, his brows furrow and a bewildered laugh leaves him. Before he could reply, you push forward, not allowing him any time to recover.

"I'm in your hands now, aren't I? You said so yourself. You did this to me. I did this to you. I'm yours to deal with."

You wind your arms around his neck, hearing how his breaths stutter and feeling his hand leave your throat. You're on your tippy toes, pulling him down so you could settle back against the door, feeling his grip settle over your waist. It's a lovely sensation. One so right. It cements your resolve.

"The only ones who can handle us are each other. Nobody else."

You don't know what you're saying anymore.

But you know you like the rising determination, you like whatever this is. You like the hope that swims in his gaze. The fear that's within them, terrified of this being one of your pranks. It wasn't; you'll prove it to hom.

"You can't make all these promises and leave me alone," You speak in a hushed tone, finality thick in the waver of your voice. You're leaning in before you can stop yourself and whispering, "I won't let you."

You can't help but feel like whatever game you two are playing now, you've lost. He's won yet again. Yet it doesn't quite feel like a loss this time around, not when Caleb's face is smoothing out into one of relief. One of contentment as he closes the distance.

The breath that fans over your mouth is hot and his voice is full of yearning, "I never planned on it."

[ellieshoochiemama]

Her. (E. W.)

Summary: Ellie joins you in your room during your brother's party.

Warnings (18+ MDNI): smut, swearing, fingering (r!receiving), cum eating (sort of), drinking, smoking, porn w/ some plot, bbf!ellie, loser!ellie. lmk if I missed any!!!

Word count: 1.7k

A/n: my first smut!!! So sorry if this sucks lmaooo

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

It was a hot and humid summer night. That sizzling summer day was your brother's choice for a party. His friends were all gathered in the backyard, sipping on buzz-balls and inexpensive tequila shots. To be honest, you wanted to ditch this and curl up with your favorite rom-com instead, but you didn't. Your brother made the effort to persuade you to assist with setup, stay, and speak with the guys who were obviously watching you. It fucking sucked.

Especially since she was here. The only person you didn’t mind stealing glances from. Your brother's best friend for the past five years.

She had no idea how much she meant to you. Her teasing, the looks up and down, and the shivers you felt when she called your name.

Occasionally, she would catch you staring, her green eyes meeting yours, but she would ignore it. The girl she was talking to seemed to be blocking her, making it seem impossible for you to get close to her. Watching the girl drool over Ellie. Fuck.

Just brush it off. As you stood up from your seat to grab your next tequila shot, you rolled your eyes.

You made it to the table filled with alcohol. The moment you had a full shot glass in your hand, you hurried off. Jerking back your head as you sense the liquid burning in your throat. Fuck this boring shit.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Heading for your room, you walked somberly back into your home's solitude. You changed out of the dress you were wearing and put on an oversized crewneck and sleep shorts. As you tuck yourself into bed, there is a knock at the door.

You come to halt. In the hopes that they would go away if you said nothing.

"Come on, I know you are in there." Ellie continued, pounding on your door once more. "Alright, Fuck, I'm coming." When you open the door, Ellie's hands are tucked into the pockets of her sweat pants.

“Can I come in?” Softly, Ellie said. "Why not," and you opened the door to let her in. Trailing closely behind her, you shut the door. In silence, the two of you sat awkwardly on the edge of your bed.

"So what's up-" you begin, but Ellie cuts you off. "I'm sorry for bothering you. It's just so fucking boring out there."

"I was done with it, too, but you seemed real cozy with that blonde chick." You drew your arms across your chest. "Meh, she’s not really my type." She looked at you, waiting for a response of some kind.

The tension was thick. What the hell is she doing to make you feel this way? Her gorgeous brown freckles glistened in the warm light from your room, like stars. Her emerald eyes scrutinize, even torment you. Her lips tinged with saliva as she licked them.

"Listen, if and only if you smoke with me, I will get out of your hair." reaching into her hoodie pocket and removing a rolled joint. It was too soon to decline the offer. So you took it. Taking the joint from her grip and the lighter from your bedside table.

"don't gotta ask me twice." As you lit the joint, you smiled. Breathing in all the smoke, you held it in until your lungs began to burn before exhaling it. With her eyes fixed on you, Ellie observed you. You give her the joint.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

It didn't take long for it to hit. Your eyes darkened to a pale pink hue. Ellies' cheeks the same hue. All of a sudden, everything seemed more genuine. The way Ellie observed you and the rhythm of your heartbeat. At once, it encompassed everything.

"I missed hanging out with you." Ellie said, her eyes heavy as she met yours. It was like you could feel everything all at once. The muffled sounds of the 'sex playlist' played from outside. With the joint still burning, a haze of smoke filled the room. Having her here with you, you felt complete.

"Hey, do you want to try something?" Breaking the stillness was Ellie's raspy voice. "Like what?" you laugh. "Just trust me," Ellie says, grabbing the joint.

Her large hand lands on your jaw, gently pressing against it. Breathlessly, you said, "Els, what are you doing?" She disregarded you and took a long drag on the joint, holding it in her mouth rather than inhaling. Her lips found yours as she leaned in. You take a deep breath as your instinct takes over. She and all the smoke combined. It was intoxicating.

She began to back away, but you stopped her by holding onto her wrist, which was resting on your cheek, and drew her back in. You were so eager to feel her again that your nose bumped hers. With her other hand on the back of your neck, her calloused hand found the base of your neck and gripped it. Her full pink lips moved in unison with yours. Her tongue slowly possessing each crevice of your mouth.

She was a fantastic kisser. No guy you have ever kissed has been this good. You both drew back, trying to catch your breath. “We shouldn’t be doing this, Fuck Els” as you leaned on each other's foreheads.

"I want you." Her hot breath teased your face as she whispered it. Pushing her back, you wrapped your thighs around hers. She took hold of the fat of your ass and began kneading it like dough. It’s driving you crazy.

Her wet mouth latched onto the frail skin on your jawline leading down to your collar bone. All that could be heard were Ellie's labored breathing and the whines and whimpers that were dripping from your throat as she sucked and nibbled until bruises were left.

It was filthy. So filthy. But all you wanted was more. You can feel the slick pooling between your thighs as her hands indulged your body's curves. You gazed up at her, grinding into the seat of her lap. Her mullet cut hair fell perfectly on her face. Her eyes were dark like a gem, so full of lust that you could feel her crumbling beneath you.

Ellie grabs your hips and drives you deeper into her as you grind onto her clothed sex. She knows how badly you want this.

"What are you doing, hmm?" Ellie lets out a groan. Her cold veiny hand caresses the sliver of skin between your shorts and sweatshirt. "Ellie, please." You take her hand in yours and guide it up your stomach, stopping at the mounds of your naked tits. Her lips parted slightly as she felt the hard buds under her rough hands. You lift the hem of your shirt over your head, revealing yourself to her. She immediately gnaws at your tits, groaning from the sensation of you.

Your hands become entangled in her auburn hair, drawing her in as close as possible. You are pathetically wet for her. Your cunt aches for her. Ellie slid her hand up to the hem of your shorts, teasing her finger against your smooth skin. “Can I?” She asked roughly. You eagerly nod your head.

She pulls the thin fabric of your shorts down your thighs. "Fuck you are so wet," she says, her mouth watering at the slick glistening on your thighs. You cut her off by grabbing her hoodie and pulling it over her head. She held you skin to skin, sliding her middle finger down to your puffy clit. Rubbing small circles on it as you grind harder into her hand. Dragging her long digit to your aching hole, dipping the tip in and out ever so slightly. You can’t help but moan.

She puts her other hand around your neck and squeezes, not too hard, but just enough to break you. Her calloused, thick finger slides into your cunt. The pressure on your neck causes your pussy to throb around her finger.

"You are so fucking tight, babe, want me to fuck you with my fingers?" She says with clenched teeth. Ellie’s boxers felt tight around her thighs, probably soaking through her sweatpants just from watching you. She sloshes her finger deep inside your pussy dragging it against your gummy walls. You moan feeling her reach deeper in you. Pulling the slick coated finger out she lines up her ring finger to your hole joining her middle one. She kept her eyes on your pussy watching it stretch around the width of her digits.

“Oh fuck Ellie” you throw your head back feeling the pit of your stomach burn with arousal. You sink fully on her fingers pressing so hard you feel the hill of her palm on your clit. You let out a throaty whine and gasp as she pulls in and out, fucking you deep, hitting that ever-so-sensitive spot in you.

“There it is.” She murmured as she pounded her palm into your pussy. Her mouth finds your tits again, sucking on the peak of your nipple. Your jaw goes slack as she moves against you. "Mmmph fuck Els," you whimper.

"Cum for me. Cum right on my fingers." Ellie mumbles out. Your walls clench around her hand. Ellie grabs your jaw with her free hand and pulls you into a wet kiss. Riding her hand you moan into her mouth.

You inhale sharply. “Ellie I’m cumming”. As she fucks into you and rides out your orgasm, a whine escapes your mouth. She doesn’t pull out of you until you’re all spent. Her fingers pruned from your release. Raising them to her lips, she inserts them. She moans, sucking off your slick. "Tastes so fucking good"

Your thighs tremble around her waist as you give her another hungry kiss. She draws you in by roughly holding your hips with her hands. A knock interrupts your passionate kiss.

"Ellie, are you in here?" Your brother questioned from outside of the door. Oh fuck. You rush away from Ellie, finding your sleep shorts and a random shirt, while Ellie finds her own shirt. Once settled Ellie opens the door.

"You all okay?" Ellie's pink cheeks and the hickeys on your neck catch his attention. She brushed her auburn hair down with her fingers.

"mhm yeah, why?" she responds. "Ellie was just wondering why I left the party," you say.

"I need a partner for beer pong, we are about to play," he says. "All right, I am heading back down," Ellie says, turning to face you. "Okay, guys, have fun," you say as you watch them walk away.

You sink back into your bed. I am in way too deep.

[no-phrogs-in-hats]

Addison Montgomery x fem! Reader

Could I please have an imagine where the reader is Meredith’s childhood best friend that came to work at Seattle Grace with her. While Meredith is pining for McDreamy her best friend wants McDreamy’s wife. (Imagine all of the hilarious and awkward moments this would result in).

Hi! I couldn't figure out how to turn this into a oneshot, so I just gave you a shit ton few scenarios!!

Sitting at lunch and getting the whole McDreamy situation out of Meredith and Cristina and Izzie spilling more to you than Meredith

Standing at the nurses station with MAGIC and Addison is on the other side of the station filling out a chart

She has her glasses on.

And her white coat.

And she's wearing black heels with a nice professional dress.

Mommy.

And you can't take your eyes off of her and you lean into Meredith and ask, "Who is that?"

She responds, "McDreamy's wife."

"So, is she into the whole adultery thing too?"

Cristina chimes in, "Considering that's why they seperated, I'd say so."

You can't stop thinking about McMommy Addison for weeks

Then, you're assigned to a case with her.

You get incredibly involved with your patients

Addison admires you so much for it.

"The world needs more doctors like you," she says after a crash C-section.

You ask, "And what do I have?"

"Empathy. You don't see very many doctors who want to get to know their patients. Most of them just see them as something they can cut into."

You're on her service almost every day for the next few months.

Asking Dr. Bailey, "Can't I have another assignment?"

Her responding, "Dr. Montgomery-Shepherd asked for you specifically, take it up with her."

But you didn't want to take it up with her.

At lunch, George brings it up and you say, "Meh, I don't really mind it."

But you start blushing.

And Cristina and Meredith start teasing you.

"Oh, she's got a crush on McDreamy's wife."

"George says, You can't have a crush on her, she's married."

"So is Derek and I still slept with him."

Cristina grins, "No wonder she has you on her service every day. You're her little bitch."

You insist that it's not true.

They continue teasing you until your pager goes off.

"Aw, is it Addison?"

"Give her a kiss for us!"

They continue making kissy faces the entire time you leave.

The first time you two kiss it's after you lost an OB patient.

Both of your emotions are running high.

You're trying to calm yourself down in an on-call room

She comes in and tries to comfort you

"It'll be okay."

"How are you so calm about this?"

"Well, eventually, you learn how to cope. You'll never get used to it, but you'll learn how to cope."

You lift your head off her shoulder and look at her in the eyes

Then your eyes flicker to her lips

And hers do the same

You finally give in and press your lips to hers

She returns the kiss and suddenly both of your scrubs are on the floor

Months of longing looks and pining and private moments in the elevator, you want to make your relationship official, but you know you can't

You're both in an on-call room once again making out

You pull away quickly and stop her

"Addison we shouldn't be doing this"

"What do you mean?"

"You...Addison, you're still married. And until you file for divorce, I can't see you."

She's speechless.

You, Addison, Derek, and Meredith all end up in an elevator together.

But weeks later, she presents divorce papers to Derek

And just a week after that, she shows you the signed papers

You don't know what to say.

"You actually did it? You filed for divorce?"

"I've made a lot of mistakes in my life...but you...you're not one of them."

This is the first time she says 'I love you'.

She gets a nice hotel room for you two that night.

Meredith asks why you aren't going home with them and then it dawns on her

You see that shit eating grin

Izzie and George and Cristina start cooing at you

"Awww, you're officially Addison's bitch."

"I am not Addison's bitch!"

"You so are!

"You'd do anything for her!"

"...Okay, fine, so I'm her bitch."

And it turned out to be a very lovely night.

[harryslittlefreakk]

it’s just us

(late night talking part 5)

summary: the 4th and final night of wembley, y/n and harry reflect on their week together and think about the future 🥹

warnings: super fluff, smut, bf!rry

a/n: i know these 2 are MY imaginary characters but i quite literally giggled and kicked my feet writing this !! i love these 2 so much 🤭 this will be the final ‘proper’ part but i have lots of extras planned! thank you so much to everyone for enjoying this series with me 🥹

you can join my taglist here! and find my masterlist here 🫶🏼 happy reading my loves!

part 1 2 3 4

“Hi, sunshine,” Harry smiled down at you as you awoke. His glasses were perched on the end of his nose, a crinkled and yellowed book in his hands. “Sleep ok?” he asked, setting the book down on the nightstand as you scooted over to nuzzle into his chest. “Meh,” you shrugged, draping an arm over his belly. “Miss you while m’sleeping.”

He laughed at this, pressing a kiss into the top of your head. “Mum and Gem are coming over soon, asked if you want to have lunch with us,” he told you. “Really? I won’t be intruding?” you asked him, nibbling at the skin around your fingernail. “No baby, never.”

“You already missed a whole day with them yesterday, H,” you told him as he tangled his fingers in yours, pulling you into his lap. “Missed it for you, and missed a whole day with you too,” he said, wrapping his arms tight around you. “Just want to enjoy all my girls together, f’you’ll let me.”

“I’ll allow it,” you smiled. “M’a bit nervous though,” you confessed, suddenly frozen with the fear of meeting his closest family. Harry pressed a soft kiss to your lips, pulling one of his arms from around your body to brush stray hairs out of your face. “Don’t need to be nervous darling, they’ll love you.”

You slid off his lap suddenly, rushing to into your wardrobe. “Harry,” you groaned. “I only have one nice outfit and it might be a bit much.” You’d packed with one intention - go to the show, go home, sleep, repeat. You’d bought one fancy dress to wear for dinner with Joanie tomorrow night, your show outfits, and pyjamas and loungewear for the day time. “Show me,” Harry smirked, sauntering over to where you were rooting through your clothes in a frenzy. You yanked the dress of its hanger, slipping Harry’s stolen t shirt off your body before stepping into the dress.

“You look beautiful,” Harry smiled, arms folded across his chest as you twirled for him. It was one of your favourite dresses, a white midi dress with a deep neckline and light blue beach-themed decals dotted all over. You loved the way it looked against your tanned skin in the summer, the way the elastic waist cinched you in. It was simple, but made you feel incredible. “It’s not too much?” you asked Harry, smoothing the front of the skirt with your hands. “No, it’s perfect,” he told you, tapping on his pouted lips to tell you he wanted a kiss.

You padded over to him, peppering kisses all over his face before planting one firmly on his lips and slipping back out of the dress. “Now this is even better,” Harry smirked, stepping forward to land a blow on your ass cheek as you bent to pick up the dress. His strong hands grabbed a hold of your waist before you managed to pick the piece of clothing up, flinging you over his shoulder and marching back towards the bed as you shrieked and kicked. “It’s gonna get creased,” you half-yelled, words almost incoherent through your laughter. “I’ll iron it,” Harry replied, dropping you down onto the bed before climbing over you. He kissed all over your body, holding your arms down as you tried to push him away. The beginnings of stubble tickled you from head to toe, snorting and squealing as you writhed under him.

He stopped suddenly, pausing to gaze over you like an animal planning its attack. Harry moved back towards your face, lingering before you wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him closer. Your noses nudged over each other’s, smiles mirrored on your faces. He kissed you deeply, pulling your thong to the side and sweeping a finger through your folds with his free hand. He always kissed you like every time could be your last, like he never knew how much of your lips life would offer him so he had to savour every moment. It was impossible not to fall in love with him - the way he gave you everything you needed, romantically and sexually, too much to resist.

His thumb rubbed on your clit as his mouth grazed over your cheek, lips dragging slightly before he nibbled at your earlobe. Harry was definitely more sexually experienced than you, evident not just from his skill, but the way that he anticipated what you needed even before you realised. The tiny nip of his teeth sent your back arching, the pain giving you just the edge you needed. “You’re so beautiful,” Harry cooed, his voice delicate against your ear as he rubbed faster at your button. He slid two fingers into you, thumb still rubbing persistent circles against your clit. He found your g-spot almost immediately, knowing your body like the back of his hand by now. “Fuck, Harry, I’m gonna c-” you moaned, hips pressing deeper into the bed as your body tensed. You were cut off by a loud cry tumbling past your lips, thighs clamping around his hand as you came. Harry finally pulled away as you came down from your high, kissing you deeply before padding back to the bathroom, satisfied with his attack.

—

Though he’d wanted to take you all somewhere nice, Harry had settled on ordering food in and enjoying the sun on his hotel room’s balcony, not wanting to risk being spotted with you again so soon, especially before anybody else knew. You were helping him to tidy up his room now, desperate to do something to combat the ball of nerves in your stomach. “Relax, baby,” he told you, pulling you in for a hug. “I can’t, Harry. You only get one chance at a first impression and I’m so nervous about messing up.”

“Did you mess up the first time you met me?”

“No, but I was awkward. And shy. An-“

“And nothin’. You were adorable, even though you w’nervous around me. Now look at us,” he said. “If it gets too much or you need any help just squeeze my leg or something, okay pet?” You nodded, feeling somewhat calmer. You knew Harry could be shy too, and he knew exactly how you were feeling right now. It wasn’t long before the door knocked and Harry pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before opening it, Anne pulling him into a hug as soon as she saw him. “Hi, my darling,” she cooed, eyes crinkling as she looked him up and down. He looked especially adorable today, wearing wide legged jeans with (as he’d told you many times that morning) his favourite brown duck cardigan, a tight fitted white t shirt underneath. You loved his snuggly daytime outfits, and adored what he wore to shows, but seeing him pick out his favourite pieces and the way he styled them was your favourite thing yet.

As soon as she saw you standing meekly behind Harry, Anne almost shoved her son out of the way to take a look at you. He greeted Gemma as she stepped towards you, immediately wrapping you into a warm hug. “You’re beautiful,” she gasped, gripping the tops of your arms as you smiled. “What on earth are you stuck with him for?” Anne laughed, winking at you. “He’s got his perks,” you said. “It’s so lovely to meet you, I hope you don’t mind me being here.”

“Nonsense,” Anne insisted, “we were so excited to meet the girl Harry’s been obsessing over.” He blushed at this, shy smile taking over his face. Gemma pulled you into a hug next, exchanging names and hellos as the four of you walked towards the balcony. Harry wrapped an arm around you as you lingered by the sliding door, calling out to ask if anyone wanted something to drink. “I’ll get them,” he said, fingers dancing against your skin. “You sit, it won’t take a second,” you told him, turning to walk towards the coffee machine.

“You are smitten,” Anne gasped as Harry sat down opposite her, eyes following your every move. He shook his head in his hands, bright smile peeking through his fingers. “I know,” he confessed.

It wasn’t long before conversation turned to the leaked photos, and Anne gave you both a motherly lecture. “It won’t be long until more photos come out. And it won’t just be your face plastered on the front of magazines,” she told you. “I’ve seen first-hand how this information gets about, they will know everything about you, more than you know about yourself sometimes. I don’t want to nag, but if the pair of you are serious then you need to start telling your family and friends before they wake up and see you all over social media.”

“I know,” you sighed, rubbing a hand on Harry’s denim-clad thigh. “I’m just so frightened to be painted as some sort of groupie, like this was my evil little plan all along,” you told her. It was something you hadn’t even spoken to Harry about yet. You knew your friends and family would just be happy for you, but the world wouldn’t see you as someone who just fell in love, you’d be blindly hated by millions of girls. Harry had confided in you a little about the stress that the media creates in a relationship with him, the hatred and vitriol of journalists and ‘fans’ towards any woman he was spotted with. You understood why he wanted to protect this relationship as much as you did, and truthfully you thought he could be even more nervous than you were about going public. “It’s a risk you’ve got to take,” Anne told you. “Besides, within 5 minutes of walking into this room I could see how besotted you are with each other, and you’d have all of us behind you both, sweetheart.” You knew she was right, and your first hurdle would be telling Joanie.

—

Harry had booked a car to take the four of you to Wembley, having promised his mum and Gemma a behind the scenes look at everything going on. It was one of their favourite parts of him touring, he’d told you, seeing the tiny touches of him in his dressing room and stepping out onto the stage, imagining what it was like for him. Even after seeing it so many times, it never got any less incredible. “This is amazing, Harry, I can’t believe you get to do this every day.”

“Joy of my life,” he grinned, watching the three best women in his life looking out across the empty stadium. He picked up the tiny blue polaroid camera that sat in the wings, ready to capture little pictures of his band and his team. “Smile,” he called out. The three of you shuffled into position, arms around each other as you beamed in his direction. Anne insisted on taking a few of you and Harry next, 3 different pictures so you could all hold onto a copy.

“You gonna stick around?” he asked you, pulling you tight against his front. You checked the time on your phone, sighing as your head lulled back onto his shoulder. “I should go, Harry. Want to get a good view for my favourite concert.” He laughed against the top of your head, promising to walk you out once you’d all exchanged goodbyes.

“I’m gonna talk to Joanie tonight,” you told him. Your heart hammered in your chest at the very idea, but you knew how hurt she’d be if she found out via the press. It just seemed so soon, despite the fact that you’d usually tell her everything about who you were seeing, from the second you’d first laid eyes on them. It was all so different with Harry, and you knew it wouldn’t change your friendship with Joanie but it would definitely take over things for a while. “You sure?” Harry asked, fingers dancing across your forearm. You nodded. “Just want to get it out of the way. Feel like you’re my dirty little secret,” laughing through the nerves. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “you scared?”

“So fucking scared.”

With this, Harry grabbed your arm, pulling you in a complete different direction than where you’d been heading. He dragged you into his dressing room, locking the door behind you before pressing you up against the door, legs wedged between yours. He was looking at you with the same animalistic gaze you’ve grown to understand, his breath hot against your mouth.

His lips ghosted over yours, tongue slipping past your teeth and licking circles around yours. You could feel him growing against your inner thigh, the tiniest taste of your lips enough to make him want more of you. Harry slid his hands behind you, palming at your soft ass before scooping you up and placing you down on the vanity, eyes dark with hunger as he gazed over you. “So perfect,” he whispered, hand cupping the nape of your neck as he dived in for another taste of your soft lips. He was insatiable, starved when it came to your pleasure - always like it was the first and last time he’d touch you, needing as much of you as he could get.

Harry bundled your dress up around your hips, groaning when he saw the wet spot on your panties, crisp from where your cream had soaked into them earlier in the day. He’d insisted you keep them on, the heavy material a reminder of how good he could make you feel. “Y’already wet for me, baby?” he rasped, slipping your tiny panties from your legs and stuffing them into his pocket. “Got you all worked up, huh?” Harry smirked as you shivered, the slightest brush of his fingers against your entrance shooting electricity through you. He licked the pad of his thumb before pressing it to your clit, leaning down to nip at your jawline when you whimpered beneath him. “Too sensitive, just fuck me please,” you whined, hips rocking back and forth to try to relieve some of the pressure that bubbled up inside of you with his one touch.

“Daddy’s needy little princess,” Harry cooed, lips soft against your cheek as he unbuttoned his jeans and let his hard cock spring free. He spat in his hand and rubbed it over his tip, guiding himself towards the centre of your parted legs. He entered you slow, one hand slipping under the bundle of fabric around your waist to grip onto your hip as he stilled inside of you, a groan slipping out as he felt your walls relax around his shaft. “More, H,” you pleaded, hooking your ankles around his back. He pulled out of you, looking down to see his head enveloped by your folds, cock twitching at the sight of your pretty pink lips wet around him. He fucked into you fast, thrusts brutal as he slammed his hips into you, catching you off guard. Every single time his tip hit your sweet spot you were crying out, your earlier orgasm only leaving you hungrier for him. Your hands gripped at his shoulders, desperate for something to hold on to to keep you grounded. It was as if you were on the outside looking in, watching your head lull back as he fucked into you, soul hovering somewhere separate to your body. He shifted slightly, angling you slightly upwards to hit a new, deeper angle inside of you. “So fucking big, so deep,” you whined, words tumbling out as you lost yourself in his cock. Your thighs tensed around his hips, pulling him tighter into your core as if there were anymore of him to take. Your orgasm washed over you quickly, the heat in your core bursting apart and rolling into every inch of your body. You cried out his name as you reached your climax, eyes rolling back in your head and stars all around you.

He’d never get enough of seeing you fucked out, cheeks pink and rosebud lips parted as you panted. It could send him over the brink in an instant, the combination of your walls spasming around his length as you came down from your high and the sight of what he’d done to you forcing his hot come out of him, even taking him by surprise as he painted your inner walls white. A hot and dirty little quickie was exactly what you both needed to clear your minds, keep your focus only on each other.

“Helped your nerves?” Harry grinned, wiping away a stray tear from your eye. You laughed, still dazed from your high. He slipped two fingers inside of you as he pulled out, stuffing his come back into your entrance. “You okay, sweet girl?” he asked you, helping your shaky legs to land back on the carpeted floor. “Mmm,” you hummed appreciatively, wrapping your arms around his chest as you fell into him, unsteady on your feet. “Took my cock so good, huh? Left you all broken?” Harry mewled, words muffled against your hair. He slipped an arm around your waist as you stepped away from him, holding you up as he unlocked the door. “Come on, I’ll get my driver to take you home,” he smiled, content in his post orgasm bliss.

—

“I need to tell you something,” you said, words bursting out when you finally couldn’t bite them back any longer. “What?” Joanie asked as she dropped her phone into her lap. You handed her the same gift bag Harry had given you, the necklace and note placed inside with two of the polaroids you’d taken earlier. “There isn’t a pregnancy test in here, is there?” she gasped, blue eyes wide. “No! It’s about what I’ve been up to this week,” you smiled, eyes glinting, suddenly brimming with excitement to finally tell her everything.

Joanie pulled out the pictures first, squinting at them both she passed them between her hands. She looked up at you, back down at the pictures, back up to you. Mouth agape, brows furrowed as she reached back into the gift bag. She pulled out the note next, unfolding it gently before her eyes grazed over the writing. “What the hell,” she whispered, searching in your eyes for any hint of mischief, certain this was some kind of elaborate prank. You picked up the necklace box, turning it in Joanie’s direction before you opened it and showed her the pendant inside.

“What is this?” she murmured, frozen still except for her eyes wandering over each item. “This is who I’ve been seeing,” you squeaked. You peeked out through scrunched up eyes, unable to gage her reaction at all. She gasped suddenly, drawing a hand to her mouth. “This is where he was pictured, in this hotel.”

You waited for it to hit her, the pieces already slotting together in her head but not making sense yet. “Call him,” she demanded suddenly. “If this is real then you have his number.” You giggled, pulling up your text chain in your phone.

y/n: do u have a second to call? X

Joanie grabbed the phone from you as you turned it around to show her, scrolling quickly through your messages. She paused on the first message he’d sent you, his pre-show selfie. Just as she started to zoom in on the picture, your phone started buzzing with a call. She thrust it back into your hands quickly, whisper-shouting for you to answer. “Hi love, you okay?” Harry asked, his slight northern rasp a clear giveaway now. Joanie fell back into the bed, hands clutched over her heart as she kicked at the bed, all the pieces finally coming together in her mind. “I’m okay Harry,” you laughed, watching your best friend thrash around. “Just got instructed to call you to prove you’re real.”

“Hi Joanie,” Harry called out, laughing as she squealed in the background. “I’ll let you get back to your dinner, meet me later?”

“Of course sweet girl, let y’know when I’m done,” Harry said before hanging up the call.

“Oh my fucking god, y/n! What the actual fuck?” Joanie shrieked, bolting back upright. “I know!” you laughed, grabbing a hold of her hands as you squealed with her. You told her everything, from the way you met him by chance, to your first kiss, the ‘date’ he set up for you, and everything in between.

“It sounds mental saying it out loud, I’ve felt nuts all week,” you told her, running your hands over your face. “It is nuts,” she said, still blinking quickly, trying to clear some of the shock clouding her mind. “He’s incredible, honestly. It’s been the most insane week of my life, and it’s been so difficult to keep it from you. But it’s such a big thing, it’s like, life changing already even without people knowing,” you sighed.

“Do you think he could be the one? Joanie asked. “He could be,” you grinned. “If things keep going as they are, I don’t see why we couldn’t make it.”

“I need to fucking scream. Harry fucking Styles! The Harry Styles could be your one. No wonder he was looking at you like that the entire show, here I thought he just fancies you. Turns out you luuurve each other,” Joanie babbled, throwing herself back against the mattress again, shaking her head in her hands.

Harry really had been focused on you for the whole concert, your position only a few rows back in Jonny’s place meaning he could see you clearly throughout the entire thing. Knowing that you were going to explain it all to Joanie anyway gave him permission to be as flirty as he wanted, acting as if you were the only person watching. You were certain your pre-show activities had riled him up to end too, and thank god you’d jumped his bones before watching him up there. Shirtless under his overalls, thick biceps and tanned chest on display, he’d looked delicious. He got you hot under the collar anyway, but to see the way he was acting while looking like that, you could’ve easily blown off telling Joanie in favour of getting fucked into a coma by your favourite man. “Come on, let’s get you home,” you laughed, suddenly burning up as you thought about your man. “And not a word to Tom,” you warned, jabbing Joanie in the ribs as you stood up.

You messaged Harry to let him know you wouldn’t be long, you were only walking Joanie to the nearest tube station so just long enough for Harry to finish his meal with Anne and Gemma before coming to meet you.

Once you’d hugged Joanie goodbye and promised to give her the details of your evening with Harry, you lingered by the entrance of the station, bouncing on your heels as you waited for him. It was so silly but so exciting, meeting him in a public place and not worrying about prying eyes or how you’d explain your appearance on the front of tabloids to your best friend. You could hear laughter from across the street, and your heart bubbled in your chest when you looked over. There he was, laughing and joking with fans he’d bumped into. You strolled towards him, somewhat subconsciously, drawn to his presence. Harry glanced over to see who was approaching and his face lit up, a huge toothy grin taking over his features. “Thank you girls, I’ve got to run,” he smiled at the young fans, eyes sparkling as he watched you where you stopped, leant against the wall just a few feet away from him. “Hi darling,” he grinned, whipping out an enormous bouquet of roses from behind his back. You gasped, eyes flitting between the flowers and his smile as he held them out for you, planting a gentle kiss to your lips as your hands met around the paper-clad stems. They were the biggest and probably most beautiful roses you’d ever seen. Twice the size of the ones you’d see in supermarket aisles, the perfect pale pink and ivory. “They’re incredible, H. What did I do to deserve these? Or what did you do?” you laughed, taking a big sniff of the floral scent. “Jus’ saw them and thought of you,” he smiled, taking your free hand in his. “This is nice,” you told him, head resting against his arm as you walked. He hummed appreciatively, squeezing your hand in his.

“Look, H!” you pointed, spotting a familiar sight that you hadn’t noticed before. The starbucks where you’d first met, only 5 days yet somehow a lifetime ago. “Can you imagine if we hadn’t both gone there?”

“Can you imagine if I didn’t work up the courage to talk t’you?” Harry laughed, tugging you across the road to get a coffee.

—

“How many kids are we going to have?”

“Hm?” you looked over at Harry, swilling the last dregs of your latte around the walls of the cup. You were back on his balcony now, looking out over the city that had brought you your love. It was so comfortable now, so right between the two of you that even sitting there in silence felt like something you’d done so many times, for so many years. It was scary, terrifying and yet so exciting. You were almost waiting for the other shoe to drop, scared to look around the corner in case a secret girlfriend or personality change was waiting to trip you up.

Harry repeated himself, lips curving into a tiny smirk. “Start with one and see how that one turns out I think,” you told him. He laughed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he looked over you. He watched you like he wanted to drink in everything about you, searching for any new detail to memorise.

“What are you thinking about, princess?” he asked you, noticing how lost in thought you were.

“I’m just frightened, H. It’s only been 5 days,” you told him, looking over at him with big brown eyes. “I know, sweet girl. S’a lot so soon, huh?” he replied, holding one of your hands to his mouth and pressing a gentle kiss to the skin. You nodded, “yeah. And I- not that I don’t think we could work but it’s scary. Having the world know my name and forever being associated with you if the distance is too much.”

“Then come with me,” he pleaded, “be my little groupie.” He was smirking now, though his eyes remained serious. “I can’t, Harry,” you groaned. “It’s too late notice to take any longer off work and not all of us are rich.”

“Then quit your job. Let me help you just until the tour finishes and then you can find something else.”

“You are so out of touch,” you laughed, shaking your head. “I can’t just quit my job, not work my notice and then expect something else to come up in a month.”

“Says who?”

“Says the world, you doughnut.”

“Marry me.”

“Harry! You are so insane,” you shrieked.

“I’m serious. Marry me, be with me forever, have my babies.” He really was dead serious, toying with his rings as he looked at you.

“I am not marrying you after 5 days.”

“Then we’ll just date.“

“Date?”

He stood up as you questioned him, suddenly rushing out of the hotel room. You followed him slowly, laughing as he knocked on the door. “Come in,” you called out. “Open it, woman,” Harry shouted, fist banging on the wood again. He was standing there grinning as you opened it to let him back in, totally confused by what he was up to.

“Hi, I’m Harry,” he started, holding out a hand for you to shake. “I know we’ve just met but I’m falling in love with you, and I’d love to take you out tomorrow night.”

EEEEE!!!!! my little loves. i thought this was a nice place to end it but rest assured i have about 7 ideas for extras already half drafted so this won’t be the last you see of these 2!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

taglist: @ameerakane20 @sleutherclaw @slutforcoffein @harrysolaf @opheliaofficial07 @dragonslayersupremacy @nikkisimps @michellekstyles @im-an-overthinker @fangirl7060 @indierockgirrl @palmettogal508 @thereunion1d @angstygyal @hannah9921 @harryshotpocket @daphnesutton @poojasdesk @averytermaat @tenaciousperfectionunknown

[evanchantingpeters]

T(h)rust in me, I’m not over you... (Fanfic - Alex from Adult World)

Pairings ─ Alex (from Adult World) x Y/N (fem reader)

Genre ─ Smut/fluff

Summary ─ Y/N and Alex (aka Evan Peters in Adult World) are exes who haven’t quite let go. A friend’s birthday party turns into a comedy of errors when a black-out drunk Y/N accidentally enters Alex’s postcode as her own for a cab ride home. As Alex finds her at his doorstep and takes her in his place, old feelings resurface and steamy times go down in his bathroom.

Warnings ─ Swearing, smut, unprotected sex p in v, drinking, oral (m receiving), rough sex, nipple teasing, hangover sex, doggy, pretty smutty guys you’re being warned :)

Word count ─ 3.7K

18+ > If you’re a minor, DO NOT read!

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

The birthday cake of your friend, Beatrice, stands proudly in the centre of her living room, decked out in colourful frosting and flickering candles.

You and the rest of the guests belt out the overdone ‘Happy Birthday’ song in what you think is perfect harmony. But here comes Jerry, Beatrice’s younger brother, who starts hollering the lyrics off-key, stealing the show. 

Snorting, the birthday girl nudges her brother away, leaning over the cake to blow out the candles. Just as she’s mouthing her wish, Jerry, wearing a wicked grin, swoops in and dips his sister’s face right into the cake. 

The room erupts in uproarious laughter as Beatrice’s expression goes from shocked to amused. She taps her cake-covered eyes to remove some chocolate. Then, she turns to Jerry with a look that’s half playful, half ‘I’m plotting revenge.’ 

“You’re in for it now, Jerry!” she barks. And just like that, an all-out frosting war breaks out, turning the room into a sugar-fuelled battlefield. Cake crumbs are flying in every direction, but you manage to dodge most of it with only a few cake-bulleted stains along the hem of your black dress.

You retreat to a corner of the room, sipping your Prosecco like you’re watching sitcom chaos unfold from afar. Suddenly, you notice a stranger in a fancy tux sauntering over, a sly grin playing on his plump lips. 

“Well, looks like you’ve stayed mostly unscathed… or shall I say un-caked?” he chirps, his voice deep and throaty as he nods toward the cake war raging on. 

You just shrug, tossing him a faint, uninterested smile, “Good reflexes, I guess,” you quip, giving him a quick once-over before turning back to the cake madness. You feel his dark green eyes scanning you as if you’re going through airport security. 

He chuckles, and leans in. “If you need someone to scrub the marks off your dress, I’m your guy,” he whoops, playfully thumping his chest. He extends his hand with an inviting smile. “Tony.” 

“Y/N,” you reply bluntly, your energy matching that of a deflated balloon. 

Unfazed by your meh vibes, Tony decides to turn up the heat on the handshake, taking you aback as he begins to stroke your wrist. “You’re drop-dead gorgeous,” he purrs, his eyes never leaving yours.

In a bold move, he lightly kisses the back of your hand, his stubble scratching your skin. 

You instinctively pull away, trying to force a polite smile, but a nervous twitch is all you manage. Your intrusive thoughts kick in, lecturing you (as usual), ‘Give the guy a chance, Y/N. Seriously, after Alex, all you think about is eye-gouging dudes with a spoon? Get a grip and move on!’

“Enjoying the party, Y/N?” he asks, snapping you out of your mental mess.  

“It’s not too bad. I’m here for Beatrice,” you retort, fetching a glass of wine from the buffet. Your eyes drift to the birthday girl, now caked from head to toe and giggling hysterically. You can’t help but crack a smile.

“Sorry, gotta go. Trice’s calling me,” you blurt out and lunge toward your friend, catching a muffled, “No, she didn’t” from behind as you’re practically escaping.

As the night barrels on, your party spirit is like the Energizer Bunny on steroids. You’re all in, downing shots and cocktails like they’re on a liquid clearance sale.

Yet, the question looms in the air: Are you drinking for the sheer fun of it or just drowning sorrows in that cocktail shaker? Alex heartache mode on. 

Before you know it, you’re totally sloshed, messily sprawled on a plush couch, using Tanya’s (another friend of yours) knees as your personal pillow. “Iiiiii reeeeally like your boooody, bodyyy, yeah. I reaaaaally wanna get naughtyyyyy I think you’re such a hottieeeee,” you croak out each word of the pop track with a slur, laughing uncontrollably. Your eyes are shut, lost in your boozy world.  

As you ramble on, Tony, who’s been lurking around, seizes the moment and leaps out from behind the couch. He casually nudges Tanya’s arm, yelling, “You heard that, Tansy?” with theatrical flair. “She thinks I’m a hottie!” His grin spreads wider than a rubber band as he arrogantly points at himself, acting like he’s the main character of your drunken karaoke.

Tanya clicks her tongue in mild annoyance and cuts in with a hiss, “Tony! Behave, man!” She softly kisses the top of your head in a futile attempt to soothe your booze-induced storm. 

“I offered to clean up her dress…” Tony goes on, hovering over the couch. “But, not gonna lie, I’d rather have it crunched up on my bedroom floor as she moans my name,” he murmurs, emphatically banging his fist on the couch before doubling up with laughter. 

“Oh, hush it, Tony,” Tanya roars and waves him away, turning back to you and your delirium, which has hit the roof. “I need to get you home, girl, and none of us is fit to drive…”

Tony, not one to give up easily, chimes in once more. “I volunteer! I’d give her a lift all day, all night.”

“No, we’re all catching a cab,” she declares with a tone that brooks no argument. She lightly pokes your shoulder. “Y/N, my love?” 

Your tipsy babbling starts to fade into a murmur that seems to be lulling you to sleep. “Y/N,” Tanya repeats. “What’s your postcode, sweetie?” 

Your alcohol-soaked brain struggles to register this simple question. “P-postcode? P-o-s-t-d, no. P-p,” you stutter.

“Yes, darling. Confirm your postcode for me, would you? I don’t have it saved,” Tanya says calmly, holding her phone in front of your face. 

With a grunt, you manage to sit up, but the world continues to dance spinning salsa around you. With an unsteady hand, you reach for the device, and your fingers fumble as you try to type out the letters and digits. 

Deep in your drunken haze, you unconsciously punch in a code that matches anything else but your address.

“To the hottieeeeee,” you shout, throwing your fist in the air before dropping yourself back onto your friend’s knees. 

“Ma,am, we’re here,” the taxi driver announces to Tanya that’s sat next to him, his hoarse voice slicing through the quiet of the car. 

Tanya swivels around to face the backseats, where you’re laid down, totally passed out. “Y/N,” she calls softly, giving your leg a gentle rub, but you don’t stir. 

She hops off the car and speed-walks to your side. With great care, she helps you out by wrapping her hands around you. Your arm is looped around her shoulder for stability. “Biyatchhhh, I saiddd whooo I saeee… who da biyaatch? Am da biyatchh,” you hoot, swaying and leaning heavily on your friend as you pinch her cheek with a goofy smile. 

“Y/N, just a sec,” Tanya huffs out as she shoves herself back in to retrieve your purse and coat from the car floor. 

You both stumble your way through the labyrinthine apartment complex. “You got your house key?” she asks, catching her breath. 

It takes a hot minute for the information to hit as you stare at your friend like a deer in headlights. With an unexpected burst of energy, you break free from Tanya’s hold, almost tripping a few steps away. “My Tanoushka, I'm sho happy you haar!” You cry out and lurch back toward her, showering her with enthusiastic smooches on her cheeks.

Then, in a theatrical whirl, you pop open the purse and jangle your keys in her face. “Jiggly, jiggly. Okiee, goooo, go, go!” you cheer in a wobbly dance, urging Tanya to get back into the car.

With an anxious look on her face, Tanya stands by the open car door. “Alright, phone me once you’re indoors,” she insists, her worried eyes laser-focused on you.

You shoo her away absentmindedly as you stagger toward the complex’s main door. You wrestle with the key, wriggling and twisting it into the lock, but miserably fail to get in the building. “Bad key,” you playfully scold, wagging a finger at the stubborn piece of metal before giving it a light slap. 

Soon after, your fingers impulsively begin to clumsily hit the buttons on the intercom, creating a cacophony of buzzing sounds that echo through the entryway. “O-o-o-pen uuup,” your slurred shouting rings through the intercom. “Shtupidd thaang,” you whine, practically bashing the device.

Out of the chorus of tenant voices that crackle through the speaker almost simultaneously, Alex’s familiar voice stands out.

“Y/N? Y/N is that you?” Hearing the shaky and uncertain voice, Alex doesn’t waste a second. He dashes down the stairwell and swings the entrance door wide open, facing a dishevelled Mia, rocking around about to collapse. 

“Y/N,” he gasps and sprints to you. “What happened? Why are you here?” His brows furrow in confusion as he observes your smudged makeup and dress that’s askew.

You look up at him with a lopsided smile, your eyes all bloodshot and half-lidded. “Alex, my hottieee. I mishhhsed you so muschh!” you exclaim, your sentences meandering as you lounge at him for a sloppy hug.

“Shit, you’re hammered,” he mutters, worry spurs him into action. With superhero speed, he scoops you up, your butt facing upwards, hands hanging loosely off his back. 

Your giggles echo as Alex carries you onto his shoulder with ease, making his way to the lift that leads to his place. In a soft, reassuring whisper, he says, “Don’t worry, baby,” and plants a kiss on your thigh that’s now resting on his chest. “I’ll take care of you,” he adds, giving you a playful spank on the ass. 

Once inside, Alex makes a pitstop in the kitchen for a water bottle while you dangle off his shoulder like a ragdoll, humming nonsense. He heads to the bedroom and gently lays you on the bed, making sure your landing is as comfy as a cloud. 

Kneeling beside you, he begins to delicately take off your high heels, rubbing your legs along the way. “Who needs a napkin when your dress can double as a tissue, right?” he chuckles softly, tracing the dry cake marks on your outfit, unaware of the sugary fight earlier. “You’ve officially introduced ‘cake couture’ to the fashion world,” he teases, trying to bundle you in a blanket like a burrito.

You slowly lift your head from the pillow, your neck muscles tightening with the effort as you stare at him with bleary yet intent eyes. “I want shyour cakey,” you mewl, wriggling under the blanket on a mission to liberate your hands.

You tug on his hoodie, pulling him closer until he loses his balance and topples onto you. Your bodies press together, and your voice comes out in a pleading whine. “Alex?” 

“Yes?” he rasps out, his dark brown eyes flicking down to your lips and then up into your eyes. 

“Kiss me,” you mumble and perk up, slowly grazing your lips against his, eyes shut. 

The strong scent of alcohol wafts from you, but, in that moment, Alex seems beyond minding. His heart races too erratically to care, and his breaths are too jagged and wild to bother. The room seems to shrink for both of you, and he swallows hard.

“No, Y/N,” he snaps, his voice firm and resolute as he jumps up. “I’d never let this happen... not right now... not with you being like this.” He snatches the water bottle from the bedside table, unscrewing it with a sense of urgency.

Slightly dazed, you touch your lips. “Tickles, tickles, ticklish,” you squeak, breaking into soft giggles. In a sudden and wobbly move, you shift position, popping up on your knees on the bed. “Huggies,” you whoop facing him, arms wide open for an embrace.

But, just as quickly, your mood takes a detour, and now you’re wincing, yanking at the fabric of your outfit in frustration, “This dresshh is prison, tightiee,” you grunt, hiking your dress up only to reveal your red panties.

His eyes can’t help but stare down there as he rubs the back of his neck almost compulsively, his breath hitching in his throat. At the sight of you half-naked, the dilemma of whether to give in or resist intensifies, swirling in his mind on end.

“Hold up, I don’t want you catching a cold or something. I’ve got a top you can slip into,” he says, puffing out his words while pacing toward his wardrobe to avoid looking at her.

“Heeey,” you yell with an unexpectedly stern tone that catches him off guard. But, just as swiftly, your face softens into a sweet, almost kiddish smile that instantly cools things off.

You wave Alex over, beckoning him to approach. “Come, come, comeyyy,” you coo. 

You perch next to him again, still rocking that mischievous smile. “It’s a secret, tiny winnie one,” you whisper-shout, pinching your index finger and thumb near your face, closing one eye for added drama. “Just between you and me,” you poke as you emphasise ‘me.’ 

Alex nods as his grin stretches from ear to ear. “Okay…” he chuckles, officially joining your light-hearted moment.

“Shhhhh,” you dramatically hush, squishing your index finger against your lips like you’re sharing classified intel. “Secret-t-t-t.”

Alex snorts. His rolls his lips into his mouth as he lowers his head to hold back a laugh. “My bad, my bad. Go on,” he whispers with exaggerated enthusiasm. He’s clearly having a blast with your goofy antics.

“Don’t tell Alex… Neva eva!” 

“I won’t, I won’t,” he assures you, theatrically raising his finger for a pinky promise. 

You take an unusually long moment to process his gesture and what it represents. A sober person would never… Eventually, you sloth-slowly glance back at him, nonchalantly deciding to give up on the symbolism behind the lifted pinky finger. “He’s the kindestsht… and p-p-prettiest boy I’ve eeeeever met,” you exclaim. Your fingers—guided by intoxicated conviction—clumsily roam over his face, stretching his nostril and trailing down to his bottom lip. 

Your drunken self radiates an innocent sincerity that makes Alex’s heart throb like a hammer. Flattered and charmed by your confession, he gazes at you bashfully.

His warm smile broadens as he keeps on staring and admiring you.

“He’s shhhuper,” you squeal, forming a heart shape with your fingers, peeking at him through it. “Do youse… hic… I should gimme… no… not me… him, give HIM head to say thank yew for treatin' spoooooon good?”

Alex can’t help but crack up, though his cheeks turn rosy—a testament to his shy nature. He cups his chin and narrows his eyes mischievously, like he’s in deep thought. “Hmm, if we’re talking about Alex, your ex...I think you should give him head, BUT,” he exclaims, throwing a finger into the air. 

You gasp, playfully covering your mouth like you’ve heard the most shocking news. Your eyes bulge with feigned surprise. “Beyond all,” he argues, “I think you should totally get back together. He thinks you broke up for something very silly, and he’s dying to be with you.”

You abruptly jerk away from him, gagging as if you’re about to throw up. You feel the blood draining from your face as a wave of distress washes over you.

Alex’s eyes widen with concern as he instinctively rises from the bed, “Off we go to the bathroom,” he insists, rushing to follow you.  

Your nausea takes a sudden turn, and you can’t hold back any longer. Barely making it to the toilet in time, you let it all out. Your body heaves with each retch, and you feel miserable.

Alex, the unsung hero, drops to his knees and chucks the water bottle on the floor. He gently pulls your hair back, creating a makeshift puke-proof barrier. All the while, he rubs your back to make the whole ordeal less horrible.

Then, he’s quick on his feet, grabbing some toilet paper for the post-barf clean-up. As you dab your lips, he hands you the bottle to rinse. “I’m disgustiiing, don’t look,” you grumble, shooing him away as you spit water in the toilet before flushing.

“You’re still a wonder to my eyes,” he whispers, running a hand through your loose hair. “And the timing—you puke just as I suggest we get back together, Y/N” he mocks, adding a sprinkle of humour to the less-than-glamorous moment.

You groan and let your head flop onto the toilet seat. “Ahhh, my moussth feels weird… bruushh,” you mumble, rubbing your lips. 

Alex lifts you up, guiding you to sit on the edge of the bathtub. “Not brushing yet, baby. We’re swishing with some hydrogen peroxide and water to protect the enamel,” he instructs you, preparing the said concoction in a small measuring cup next to you. “Here you go, wash off.”

“Shhh, you’re a niiieeerd,” you whine after spitting the liquid, feeling it sting your tongue. Giggling, you yank at Alex’s hoodie and playfully sway him back and forth, your minty breath fanning his face.

Then, you suddenly stop and fix him right in the eye. “Aleeex?” you whimper, lips pouting.

“Yes, Y/N,” he asks calmly, sweeping a few strands of hair off your face as a half smirk curls up his lips. He enjoys the banter that weaves through your drunken fog.

“Fuck me,” you plead, fiddling with the buckle of his belt. 

Alex’s pulse quickened for a second, held in an irregular rhythm. All the while, your fingertips caress his lower stomach, trying to slip through his trousers and onto his boxers. 

You let go when he clears his throat loudly, a deliberate attempt to regain composure. Breathing heavily, he manages a tight-lipped as he strokes your head, tenderly placing it on his shoulder.

“Ohhh, I knoooow,” your exclaim and sit up, your index finger playfully pressing against your mouth. “I willshh brush me an’ you fuck me.” 

Forty minutes later, you’re done with her hardcore toothbrushing session, complete with a few rounds of gargling mouthwash. Alex hands you a towel with a warm smile. You’re still wobbly but muster a grateful grin.

“Thaaank, yew rock,” you slur, clumsily patting your face dry. 

Alex chuckles, “Better?”

You hum, nodding, but your bleary eyes suddenly light up mischievously. Out of impulse, you slide into the tub, turning the water knob. You start splashing around, water welling up everywhere as you laugh uncontrollably. Alex, caught in the aquatic crossfire, shields himself with his hands.

“What’s the goal? Turning this into a water park?” he jokes, still trying to dodge the watery onslaught. But you’re having none of it. You grip his arm and drag him into the splash party.

Soon, you’re both a wet, tangled mess, laughing like loons, lost in the bliss of the moment. As water skims through the contours of your bodies, there’s a switch in the atmosphere. Amidst the fun chaos, your eyes meet inches away from each other, and the laughter mellows into a shared silence.

Before you realise it, your lips crash in a spontaneous kiss. You spread your legs, letting him wade through and tower over you. Soft moans escape him, and the vibrations against your mouth send delightful shivers down your backbone. You know that’s not just a collision of flesh; it transcends into a harmonious blend of passion and connection.

“I want you, Alex,” you sigh with newfound clarity, miraculously not stumbling over your words in an intoxicating joy for the first time tonight. You push the back of his head to deepen the kiss, your tongues now twisting and twirling in a sensual waltz.

He hungrily gropes handfuls of your body, leaving open-mouthed kisses across the crook of your neck.

“Y/N.. no... stop it,” he protests when your hand ventures down his trousers, rubbing along his growing bulge. Your quivering breaths mingle as he breaks the kiss. Skillfully, he turns off the water as he steps out of the tub. “It’s the alcohol talking now, not you.” 

You frown, clutching on the edges of the tub for balance. “The alcohol has shut up; I speak now,” you groan as you stand on your feet. Your drenched dress clings to your body, outlining your figure. Feeling the weight of the soaked fabric, you decide to free yourself from it. 

You strip down to your panties, and your soft, pink nipples rise like rosebuds in bloom, betraying a quiet anticipation. Alex sucks in a sharp breath as he watches your every move all mesmerised, eyes widening, lips parted.

“Ever seen someone redefine the art of walking a tightrope?” you chirp, water dripping down your half-naked body. Sinking to your knees, you get on all fours and slowly begin to crawl to him.

You sway your hips in a sensuous, almost hypnotic rhythm, eyes fixed on Alex. All the while, you trace a perfectly straight line to him, proving your recovered sobriety. 

Arriving at his pelvic level, you gracefully sit back on your heels with a coy smile, maintaining eye contact. “See?” you whisper, tilting your head as your eyes travel down at his erection. You don’t dare to touch; you just marvel at his full length (realistically speaking).

Staring down at you with a knowing, crooked smirk, he runs his fingers through your damp hair, tenderly petting your head. 

“Someone’s suffering here. Let’s free this big boy, shall we?” you purr, brushing your fingers along his hard rock crotch, feeling it twitch upon touch. 

He quickly nods in despair as if he’s unable to utter a single syllable. You slowly roll down his trousers and boxers. He gasps as you finally take hold of his large shaft.

You push his tip in your mouth, flattening your tongue, and swipe down the underside ridge of his stiff dick, humming in delight. He groans louder than you expected as you slowly work his cock in and out, grazing your fingers over the ridges of his abs under his t-shirt.

You pull him back out of your mouth just to slide all the way back down. He’s practically growling at this point, clasping onto the corners of the sink—his vein-y arms make your sex twice as moist.

You regain your slow, teasing pace just to gauge his reaction. Letting out a whine like he can’t take it anymore, he grips your hair tighter, pushing you all the way down his dick. His head is now building on pressure as it strikes the back of your throat, bringing tears to your eyes. His hair grip loosens as his breaths start escaping him in choked, punchy gasps. 

You’re sucking him whole, from his taint down to his balls, dripping your saliva all over him the harder you draw him into your mouth. Your swollen pussy is tingling for him as you feel him hardening in your mouth, forcing loud moans out of you.

Knowing that your next move will finish him, you slow down again and grab him by the waist, gazing up at him. That’s when you begin to take him in faster and rougher, feeling his hips thrust harder each time. 

And… proven! With the change in speed, he lets out a series of choppy moans only to shoot his hot cum in your mouth right after. He stares down at you breathless, mouth agape, as you gulp down his sweet taste with rapid, eager swallows, savouring his taste with a giggle. 

“My girl,” he rasps out as he picks you up from the floor effortlessly yet almost in a trance, his dick still throbbing in your hands. He peels his t-shirt off, turning you around so you both face the large bathroom mirror.

Positioned behind you, he holds you close and smacks your ass hard, making you squeal with surprise. The squeal soon turns into a moan as the pain fades into pleasure. 

You smile slyly as you observe his muscular hands travelling from your hips all the way up to your waistline and tits. You gasp softly when you feel his erection on your back as his mouth nibbles the flushed skin of your neck, leaving soft love bites in his wake.

“I want you to cum inside me, Alex” you blurt out and take hold of his shaft from behind, slowly sliding the head though your tight moist slit in short thrusts. 

“Oh, yeah,” he grunts, biting his bottom lip as he feels your wet lips wrap around him. He instantly fills his hands with your hard nipples, squeezing and rubbing them as he looks at your reflection. “Anything for you, Y/N,” he mutters against your ear in a low, husky voice before knocking himself deep inside you, balls deep, making you scream. His hands roughly grip your thighs to keep you steady and close to him.

Small sobs leave you as you instinctively grab the ends of the sink, bending over to cope with taking him deeper. “Just there,” you yelp, panting, as he starts pounding harder, your hair twisted around his hand. With each thrust, his sack slaps against your clit, making you lose your shit.

Every time your pussy gets to the base of his cock, you pump into him with an intense tempo and move your hips around, making his cock swirl inside your body.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” you cry out with shallow, jagged puffs, rising and resting your head on his shoulder.

He pinches your nipples between his knuckles with one hand while with the other, he starts massaging your clit with circular motions. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper in pure ecstasy as a hot flush courses through you, your cunt aching and begging to release.

“You take in me so well, baby. Give it to me,” he groans, his voice a throaty sensual rasp that makes you shudder.

“Yeees,” you scream, writhing and grinding against him until you feel warm liquid dripping down your legs. 

He keeps riding your orgasm out with you, fucking the liquids in back until he hits his own high. And then it happens—his cum gushing inside you, stuffing you up.

Out of breath, Alex pulls himself out of you, watching his cum leak out. He lazily grins at you, his curls sticking to his head, and you tuck them all back with trembling hands, giggling. 

“This pussy and her owner over here will be the death of me,” he chuckles, gasping for air as he pulls you in for a sloppy, heated kiss.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[annie-also-draws]

Hades Charmes brain rot dump

Domestic Charmes Modern Au for my needs bc there’s not enough art of them HNNNNG (bless you AO3 writers)

Some designs for Hermes. (Charon’s still in the backlog in my head rn). Hermes with glasses anyone??? 😭

I’m in the deep trenches of making my own Au where Hermes and Charon are finance bros (god of commerce and the god who collects gold, duh, ain’t no way they’re dirt poor).

There’s plenty of fics that display Hermes as the black sheep of the family who’s running his own life away from his family doing odd jobs and barely hangs on (no hate I love them!!!) but there’s not enough Rich! Hermes out there so I just gotta insert my own brain rot. Charon and Hermes working for rival finance companies (one deal with future investment and one deal with settlement money/clauses after one’s death (idk if it’s a real thing but meh)

Check the tags for the synopsis lol AO3 style

Bless Jen Zee for long hair Hermes bc all the hairstyle I can conjure from this 😩🙏

The glasses started as a goofy accessory and ended up staying. Longsighted-Hermes who can’t see things that are close to him and uses contact lenses at work 👁️👁️. Only wears glasses at home (with Charon). Grows very little beard and is perpetually tired bc overworked! Hermes is so canon.

[luigisblueoveralls]

Carina

Luigi x GN! Reader

Requested by @andy-squirrel-and-friends

I know I already used a similar picture on one of my other works, shush I'm running out of pictures to use. Someone send me some plzz

Summary: Luigi has been down in the dumps lately and you find the perfect way to cheer him up.

Notes: Carina means cute, in a feminine context, in Italian, and I figured that would be perfect for this scenario. I also changed it a little of what you asked on accident and didn't realize it until I got really deep into writing it so I hope that's okay I apologize! No warnings for this one! Hope you enjoy it!

(H/L)=Hair Length

(H/C)=Hair Color

💚

The front door softly opened and then shut, indicating that your significant other was home from work.

"Hey Lui! How was today?" You called from the laundry room.

"Meh." Luigi mumbled as he walked upstairs to y'alls room.

You sighed to yourself hearing that. This was the third day in a row that Luigi was bummed out. You weren't sure why he was being this way, and when you ask what's wrong, he just says: "Don't worry about me. I'm alright." But you knew that was a damn lie. Normally, Luigi was excited and energetic and happy, but lately, he has been dull, monotone, and even depressed. You weren't sure why he was acting like this, but you were going to get to the bottom of this.

You quickly finished the laundry that you were doing and headed upstairs to the bedroom where Luigi was at.

"Hey." You announce as you knocked on the door, "Can I come in?"

It was silent for a few seconds.

"Sure."

You opened the door and walked into the bedroom to find Luigi top less in his boxers, looking for some lounge clothes to wear. You gazed at him. Luigi was so handsome to you that you loved gazing at him with whatever chance you got. Whether it be while he was cooking in the kitchen, asleep with drool coming out of his mouth, or during intimate times, you loved to gaze at him.

"What are you looking at?" Luigi asks you.

"Nothing, pretty boy." You joked, which made him do a half smile.

"What's been on your mind, Lui? Talk to me." You plead as you approached him.

Luigi shook his head at you.

"It's nothing. I promise, love." He reassures you.

You still weren't buying it.

"Lui, what is it?" You ask again.

Luigi leans in and kisses your temple.

"I promise I am okay. I'm just tired, is all." Luigi strokes your (H/L) (H/C), making you smile.

"I know, but I worry about you." You said, leaning onto Luigi's shoulder.

"You have nothing to worry about." Luigi reassures you, wrapping his arm around you.

You nod in response, but you still couldn't help but worry for Luigi. You needed a way to figure out how to lighten his mood, and you had an idea of how to do that.

~

"We have three available for adoption. It just depends on which one suits your need the best." The shelter worker lady informed you.

You gazed through the three glass shelters the cats were in. One cat was white, one was black, and then there was an orange tabby cat with white stripes all over his body with green eyes. Your eyes met with the orange cats. The orange cat stared right back into your eyes, and you couldn't help but feel drawn to the cat.

"Do you think you could tell me more about this orange one?" You ask the worker.

"Ah yes, she just arrived today, so we don't have a name for her yet, but she loves loves cuddles and to be loved on. She loves food and loves to play with her ball of yarn and gets attached to her person." The worker informed you.

This cat was a perfect match for Luigi. You just knew it. You had a gut feeling you were correct.

"I'll take her. She is perfect." You told the worker.

"Awesome. I'll fetch her crate for ya." The worker said as she walked off.

You pressed your hand up against the glass, and the cat pressed her paw against the glass where your hand was at. You giggled in an excited way. It was as if the cat knew she was gonna go to the perfect home.

~

It was a waiting game at this point. You had the cat in your lap with a little green bow tie on it, both of you waiting for Luigi to get home.

"He is going to love you." You spoke to the cat.

The cat rubbed her chin up against yours, and you chuckled in response. You still didn't really have a name for her, but you wanted Luigi to make that choice. It was his cat, after all. Suddenly, you heard the sound of his car engine pull up and park in front of the house. Your heart started racing rapidly. You couldn't wait till your wonderful significant other walked through the door and see your surprise you had for him.

"Relax (Y/N)." You told yourself.

You felt as if your heart was gonna burst out of your chest. You couldn't wait. You almost told Luigi the surprise as soon as you got the cat, but you figured it was best to wait till he got home. Luigi walked up to the front door, turned the door knob and opened the front door.

"Hey, Lui." You greet him with excitement.

You could tell by his gaze that he was tired. Extremely. He was so tired that all he noticed was you.

"Hey, (Y/N)." Luigi greets you as he tiredly walked to the couch.

"Are you okay?" You ask as you sat next to him, with the cat in your lap still.

"Y-Yeah, just-" Luigi was interrupted by the cat rubbing on him and crawling into his lap.

"Um..whose cat is this?" Luigi asks.

You leaned in close to him, placing a peck on his cheek.

"She's yours, Lui."

Luigi's eyes went wide in shock as he gazed at the orange tabby cat.

"R-Really?" Luigi asks in suprisement.

"Surprise!!" You exclaimed as you hugged the side of him.

Luigi chuckled as he started petting his cat. The cat would rub against his hand motions and even rub her up against his chin, as if she had already claimed Luigi as her owner.

"I just noticed you've been down lately and figured maybe having an animal companion might help." You inform him.

Luigi looked at you, his deep blue eyes staring into your (E/C) eyes. He felt so lucky to have you. You cared for him so much and wanted the best for him.

"Thank you." Luigi says as he kisses you.

You kissed back until he pulled away and turned his attention back to his cat.

"Carina. I think that's a perfect name for this one." Luigi comments.

"Yes. I agree." You agreed as you lean in close to Luigi, leaning your head onto his shoulder.

You had a feeling that living your life with Luigi and now Carina was gonna be the best years of your life. You just knew it.

💚

I hope you enjoy it!! Again I'm sorry for accidently changing what you wanted I didn't realize it until I was almost done with it but I hope you enjoy it!!

[crimson-calligraphyx]

Tag List: @cheyfi @kingdomof-omens @daylightlvrs @blade-in-red @ladyveronikawrites @jay02bo @itsmrsfuentes @cncohshit @catj422 @iamdesolate

A/N: Sorry this chapter is meh.

Home didn't feel like home anymore. There was always this weight pressing down on me whenever I walked through the front door, plagued with guilt and shame. It got even worse when I would walk into our bedroom, seeing both of our wedding rings placed on the bureau, taunting me of our marriage that was falling apart.

I no longer felt deserving of wearing the ring.

Of course, I still loved Noah—but I wasn't in love with him. Not the way I had been before his career took off. It killed me to admit to even myself, which is exactly why I haven't said it to him either. I'm sure he knew it, though.

The affection and lust were there at times, which of course would cause me to fawn over him, but there was no trust, no communication. 'I'll fix this' he'd say, but he'd continue to break promise after promise. Even so, his way of fixing things was spending a day or two out of the month with me, or showering me with roses, thinking that would make things right.

Eventually, I stopped holding my breath, I stopped getting my hopes up. Instead, I got used to the way my heart sank with disappointment day after day, I got used to sleeping in an empty bed, I got used to his silly little attempts to smooth things over.

It wasn't just me who lost trust in our relationship; he did, too. He didn't trust me to stay sober while he wasn't home—granted, that was fair from my past behavior—but he accused me of doing so when I hadn't. On multiple occasions.

Either way, we didn't trust each other. How do you stay with someone you don't trust? It was evident that this just wasn't fucking working, and that left me feeling broken and hollow. Just an empty spot where my heart was supposed to be.

So, I filled that void with booze and lots of it. I was getting cut off from the bar as of late; the closer it got to Noah's return from tour, the heavier I drank.

It was selfish, and one of the factors of the disarray that was my marriage, but I didn't care. Clearly, as I was sitting here, sucking down whatever was placed in front of me—so long as it clouded my mind to the point that the apprehension of his arrival would dissipate.

I shouldn't feel this way about seeing my husband, but I wasn't sure what was going to happen between us. I knew I had to tell him about the turmoil inside my mind, but what would that lead to? Would we try to patch things up for the millionth time, or would we throw in the towel and go our separate ways?

Both of those options made my stomach flip. The thought of trying again, only to end in more disappointment was equally as devastating as the thought of us divorcing. I didn't know what to do.

"No wedding ring, huh?" A voice pulls me from the depths of my mind, the voice the same as nails on a chalkboard. "Guess you finally came to your senses." Anger immediately flares through me, but I try my best to suppress it. "What do you want, Steven?" I hiss through clenched teeth, my eyes zeroed in on the empty glass in front of me. "I don't want anything," he answers curtly. I spare him a glance. "Then why are you here?"

He stands there, hip propped against the bar, beer in hand with a smug grin spread across his lips. He doesn't say a word, just looks at me with that stupid smirk that says 'I told you so', mischief shining in his abnormally pale green eyes. His hair was cropped short now, a shadow of stubble lining his jaw—I'd be lying if I said he wasn't the least bit attractive.

My eyes dart to the fresh shot glass filled to the brim that was now settled in front of me. I huff a dry laugh through my nose; I didn't order another shot. I picked up the glass of what appeared to be chilled Sambuca, swirling it carefully. "Trying to condition me again?" I asked, bringing it to my nose and being met by the familiar scent of anise. "Whatever do you mean?" He furrows his brows in faux perplexity, but the smirk never falters.

Again, I found myself letting out a dry laugh as I brought the shot to my lips. I see his eyes drop to my mouth, and he runs his tongue over his bottom lip as he watches me knock it back. I swallowed it with ease, sighing a chilled breath of satisfaction after placing the shot glass down on the bar. I dug a few bills out of my purse, slapped it on the counter, and stood. "Thanks," I tapped him lightly on the cheek, brandishing an overly sweet smile as I passed by.

He snatches my wrist, pulling me back to him. He still has me in his grasp as he leans down, so close that I can smell the cheap IPA he has on his breath. "There's more where that came from," he says huskily, and my skin prickles when his warm breath brushes against my mouth. "I'll be here when you hop off the bandwagon for good." "Fuck you," I seethe, yanking my arm from his hand. "That's the goal," he winks, straightening up to take a sip of his drink with a smirk. "Catch you later, Liv."

My body trembled with rage; I wanted so badly to wipe that smile clean from his face, but I knew that I shouldn't make yet another scene at the bar. I grit my teeth and turn to leave before I do anything I'll regret later.

Tears quickly welled up and fell from my eyes as I clumsily made my way home. I wasn't sure if they were from anger or sadness or shame—whatever the case was, they didn't stop falling until I stepped foot inside my home. The shock I felt cut the supply off right away. I cautiously shut the front door and hastily wiped my tears away with a clearing of my throat. "You're home early."

Noah glances over at me, the hood of his sweatshirt over his head with the drawstrings pulled tight, and my heart leaped right into my throat. He looked unwell, his skin paler than usual, eyes black as coal and sunken in as he stared back at me with sorrow. "Yeah," he starts, his lips beginning to curl into a minuscule grin, only to be interrupted by a rumbling cough. I felt myself depreciate as his coughing fit continued for an uncomfortably long time, rendering him hunched over and breathless.

"My God, Noah," I gasped and closed the gap between us, bracing him with a hand on his chest. "Are you okay?" He nods as he heaves, turning away from me to grab a tissue from the box in the living room. "As if you care," he wheezes, covering his mouth with the tissue as he continues to cough. "I do care, Noah. You’re not doing well—" He cuts me off with his hand, showing me the tissue that now brandished a spot of red. My eyes widened in panic, my first thought being that he coughed up blood, but upon further inspection, I quickly realized the 'blood' had texture to it.

It wasn't blood, it was rose petals.

“You don’t love me anymore,” he says, barely audible. My heart plummets to the pit of my stomach, my blood runs cold from the shame that coursed through my veins. I could see the heartache in his eyes as they shimmered with tears threatening to spill, I could feel the anguish radiating from him as we remained silent, neither of us sure as to what to say.

I shake my head in denial. “Of course I still love you—” “But you’re not in love with me.” He crumples the tissue in his hand and squeezes his eyes shut, a tear or two rolling down his face. He's right. I couldn't deny it, and it fucking killed me. "I'm sorry, Noah," I whimpered, tears pricking my eyes. "Me too," he whispers, shaking his head. "I failed at being a good husband."

The remorse in his voice was heavy, weighing me down, crushing me. I wanted to take it all back, I wanted to wrap my arms around him and tell him everything was going to be okay, that we'd figure this out, but I couldn't. Everything was so heavy, I couldn't move. I just stood here cemented in place, knowing that I was killing my husband, and I fucking hated myself for it.

I didn't mean to fall out of love, I didn't mean for him to get sick with this disease. I wanted us to make it through this, Goddammit. I wanted us to flourish, maybe have kids one day, grow old together and be that stereotypical elderly couple sitting in their rocking chairs on the porch as they reminisced in the good times.

He makes his way over to me and places his hand on my cheek, wiping away the tear that slipped from my eye with his thumb. I nuzzled my face against his palm, relishing the warmth while I could. He looks down at me with longing, a sorrow-filled smile tugging at his lips as his eyes search mine. "I'm sorry for all the pain I put you through, Olivia," he says lowly before pressing his lips to my forehead firmly. "I love you. Always have, always will," he whispers against me.

I closed my eyes, a sob making its way out of me as he slowly moves away from me, his fingers lingering on my cheek a moment or two longer. I feel him brush past me, and I turn to face him, seeing him walk towards the front door with a bag now slung over his shoulder. "Wait," I called out, furrowing my brows. "Where are you going?" He reaches the door, stopping with a sigh when the doorknob is in his hand. "I'm staying with Nick, at least for a little while," he tells me, his voice strained from holding back either a cough or a sob, I couldn't tell. "I-I need space to process. It just... it hurts—" The cough finally made its way out of him.

If my heart could sink any lower, it did at this very moment as I watched him cough so violently, he struggled to breathe. I could practically hear his lungs rattle with each inhale. "I'll see you later," he manages to say meekly.

Everything moved in slow motion as I watched him pull the door open and saunter out of our home. The door shuts, the soft click of the latch echoing in my head, and I sank to my knees—that was it. Noah walked out of my life.

Even though I knew that this was coming, I couldn't stop the screams from escaping me as I felt myself falling at light speed. I hit the ground so hard, it knocked the breath right out of me, dizzying me. I was so disoriented, so lost as the room spun around me, I almost forgot where I was.

I was in a living nightmare that was our home, and I couldn’t wake up, I couldn’t escape it. Every little thing here would be a constant reminder of Noah, all the good and the bad, everything that lead up to this point.

There would be no new memories, no new experiences. Not even the simple things, like slowly waking up and relishing the warmth of each other. I’d never get to drink in the way the sun accentuated the hidden golden hue in his eyes, or leisurely trace the shapes of his tattoos. I’d never get to see him walk into the bakery and share breakfast with him again, I’d never be able to watch the sunrise or sunset with him—I wouldn’t even be able to do that alone without thinking about him and having my heart shatter even further.

My stomach was in knots just thinking about all these things, and suddenly I wasn’t in the foyer anymore. I was in my bathroom, hands planted on either side of the toilet bowl as I vomited from the rollercoaster of emotions I was riding.

|Chapter 15|

[exdayshiftguardhana]

(OOC) TW FOR HOMOPHOBIA USE OF THE F SLUR (It’s censored but still) ABUSE IMPLIED SUICIDE MENTION BLOOD ARM BITING (idk what else to call it) VIOLENCE AND BROKEN BONES BELOW THE CUT.]

[Video recording begin.]

[The recording begins with the camera on the floor in an apartment, only one person is in the main room and in frame. Hanako. She is staring out the door with a backpack on her back, seemingly waiting on someone.]

H: Ok fuckers, lets play this stupid game.

[Another person walks out, seemingly from a room. They bend down revealing a man with green-ish eyes and short black hair. Holding a cat.]

?: Hana, are you sure this is a good idea? Talking to your parents after like a year?

H: Listen Jack, I'll be fine.

J: Last time you said that you got fucked up by a high-school jock named Harley.

H: Meh, fair point.

J: You're taking Luna with you right?

H: You… Might have to bring Luna to wherever I end up. I don't think it's a good idea to put a cat in a backpack where I have a knife.

J: Ok coo-

[A knock on the door cuts Jack off, he stands up looking at the door, before Hanako uses her hand to motion Jason out of the room. Leading to him walking out of frame.]

H: [Annoyed.] It’s open!

[The door opens, two people seen from knee height in the doorway. Hanako stands up, grabbing the phone. Changing the camera angle from the floor to her shirt pocket where both people are now in frame. The man with a beard wearing sunglasses and a black baseball hat, as well as a black button up. The women, wearing a black dress and glasses.]

H: Hey!

?: Sweetheart. Don't play dumb we got the phone call. We know you haven't been listening to us.

H: [Mumbling.] I swear to fucking god could you at least say hi first. [Normal volume.] Nice to fucking see you too mom.

?: Honey. We're here to bring you home. So you can heal.

[The woman goes to grab Hanako's arm, leading to her moving her hand away.]

?: Hanako. This isn't high-school. This ‘gay’ thing you had going on can stop. Come. Home.

H: If you touch me I will kick you. You. Bitch.

??: [Snapping.] HEY! Don't speak to your mother that way.

[Hanako looks at the two, seemingly annoyed.]

??: You're coming home, and we're gonna find you a proper relationship.

H: How about no?

??: We're both tired of you doing this devil worshiping. You are coming home whether you like it or not.

H: No.

?: HANAKO ENOUGH. YOU ARE COMING HOME AND WE'RE GOING TO HEAL YOU!

[Hanako walks over to get in the woman's face, the woman looks mad as the camera gets closer.]

H: Oh yeah because that healing bullshit worked SOOOOOOOOOO well for Maya right?

[The man pushes Hanako, causing the phone to shake. He pushes her into a wall, the camera only viewing his shirt.]

??: NEVER BRING UP THAT DISAPPOINTMENT AGAIN YOU F[Redacted.]

H: I-

[Hanako is cut off by the man slapping her and grabbing her arm, she screams for a moment before the man can be heard grabbing her by the face.]

??: I've put up with your bullshit long enough. You're coming home you brat.

[The man begins dragging Hanako, causing the camera to shake more but before he can drag her out the door. The camera gets refocused long enough to see Hanako bite the man's arm with a snap, the man screams and the last thing the camera sees is blood. Hanako begins running, causing the camera to shake even more. She can be heard coughing before there's a set of thuds that lasts a few seconds.]

H: OW FUCK-

[When the camera finally refocuses again Hanako is at the bottom of a set of stairs, running and shouting is heard before Hanako struggles to get up.]

??: [Distant.] GET BACK HERE YOU FUCKING BITCH.

H: GO FUCK YOURSELF!

[Hanako continues going down stairs, seemingly limping as the camera shakes up and down. The distant screaming heard in the background as Hanako makes it to a lobby looking area and runs out the door, falling to the ground.]

H: [Pained.] God fucking damnit. Fucking assholes.

[After a few seconds of Hanako coughing, she stands up and turns around. Seeing the man and woman from before opening the door.]

??: YOU ARE IN SO MUCH FUCKING TROUBLE YOU BRAT.

[The man's arm is missing a bit of flesh, seemingly torn out by Hanako earlier. Blood dripping onto the gravel.]

?: [Fake sobbing.] I just wanted my only daughter back. And you do this?

H: [Pained speech lasts for the rest of the transcript.] Cut it the fuck out. You're faking that shit. You had a chance to have a family. Not my fault you fucked it up.

??: Your sister was a spoiled brat who wouldn't listen, we want you to be better than he-

H: They. And don't fucking call them a brat you son of a fuck.

??: This is the issue. You're poisoned with all these… False ideas. It's that brat's fault you left. That you're like this.

?: Please. Be better than that disappointme-

[Before the woman can finish, Hanako cuts her off by sucker punching her in the mouth. The camera blurs as Hanako spins to punch the man as well. A thud is heard as the man hits the ground, multiple sounds are heard at once. The most notable being multiple cracks and shouts from the man's direction on the floor. When it stops and the camera refocuses, the man is seen on the ground grabbing his left arm.]

?: YOU STUPID BRAT. WHAT DID YOU JUST DO?

H: I broke his arm. And probably cracked a few ribs. Now never talk to me again you fucking bitch. I'll be waiting on the cops I know you'll call.

[Hanako walks off as the woman can be heard screaming behind her. Hanako sits on a sidewalk, waiting for whoever shows up. She sighs… Almost sounding disappointed..? The recording stops here.]

[End recording.]

[inwintersolitude]

- October 24th 2023 -

Do a lot of people tell you that you are funny? A few people do. The closer I am with someone, the more they'll see my funny/goofy side.

Have you gone to a tanning bed lately? Nope, I've never been in a tanning bed, ever.

What did you do on the Fourth of July? I didn't do anything to celebrate it. I think my husband was gone flying that day, and I just relaxed at home. I did happen to see the town's fireworks display on my way home from the store that evening, though.

Do you ever watch Hannah Montana? No, I've never watched it.

Do you think Miley Cyrus is a good role model? I have no idea. I don't know much about her.

Do you have nice legs? Sure.

Are you good at decorating? I'm alright at it. It's one of the few artsy/creative things I'm not terrible at, haha.

Have you ever been to Ohio? I live in Ohio, actually. Lived here from 1993-2013, and again from 2021-present.

Do you like southern accents? It depends on the exact type of Southern accent. Most of them are meh, but I do like the ''classy Southern Belle'' type of accent. Can't think of a better way to describe it LOL.

Do you watch Big Brother? No.

How old is the oldest person who has ever liked you? My husband is 36. But he was 22 when we started dating.

Do you get intimidated easily? Not really.

Do you get a shower every day? No, sometimes I skip a day.

Do you like mountain biking? I used to when I was younger. I'm much more wary of sports/activities with a high risk of injury nowadays. I had a really bad wrist injury from slipping on ice when I was 26, it took forever to heal and it affected my mental health. When I was younger, I brushed off injuries like they were nothing, but ever since that wrist injury, I just don't mentally deal with injuries well at all.

What is something you like to do for fun? Nature photography and drone photography.

Do you remember a lot of things from whenever you were a child? Yep, I can recall the vast majority of my childhood.

What was something good that happened to you this week? My husband and I went over to my parent's house for dinner this past Friday, along with my brother and sister-in-law and their kids. We all had a really great time.

Have you ever been to Ireland? Yes, I was just in Ireland a few weeks ago!

Do you have a lot of shoes? Maybe like 10 pairs.

Would you rather go out to eat or make dinner yourself? It depends on what sort of food I'm in the mood for, and whether or not I feel like cooking.

Do you like The Goonies? I've never watched it.

Would you ever consider being a photographer? I'm an amateur photographer. I've been into photography off-and-on for almost 20 years.

What is something that you aren't good at? I'm awful at any sort of creative writing.

What is something you really regret? Not leaving my former job when I first started to think of leaving. I stayed, pushed myself only to end up even more stressed out, and then a coworker caused an accident that gave me permanent hearing damage.

Do you think you have a lot of friends? No, I don't have many friends at all. But I like it this way. I'm not a very social person.

Do you like to answer questions in detail? Usually.

Who are the texts in your inbox from? My husband, my brother, my sister-in-law, my mom, my dad, my friend Cory, and my realtor.

What is something you wear everyday? My glasses.

What clothing store do you really like? Ralph Lauren and L.L. Bean are my two favorites.

Do you have a lot of chores? Well yeah, I'm an adult with my own household.

[lostonehero]

Is that gasp plot in this slowburn romance. Maybe.

Anyway

Meh

Knocking on the door turned the heads of the three men in the home. "Uncle Henry, were you expecting someone?"

Henry pauses, scrolling through his phone's calander. "No, that meeting was postponed, and that's at the range. Uh, that's not till next month." He hums, feeling William over his shoulder. The doorbell rings again. "I'm not expecting anyone."

"What does range mean?" William looked to Jeremy for an answer.

"Mr. Emily, you're from Texas, right?" Jeremy eyes widen as he nods. "Ah, a gun range."

William looked at Henry, then at Jeremy. "How does that matter?"

Henry chuckles as Micheal waves his hand. "Sometimes I forget how much of American culture you don't understand William."

"That doesn't explain any of this." William stops as he hears the front door slam open.

"My fuckkng nose!" Micheal curses and shouts from the door.

"Micheal! Oh my heavens, I haven't seen you since you were up to here on me. How's my favorite British nephew doing." A silver haired woman built a like truck, slammed the door open. "Oh Hen, you didn't tell me you had guests." He hands Micheal a handkerchief. "Pinch and don't put your head back. You'll get a clot."

William's form flickered, and he's wearing what looks like an old mechanics uniform like he was about to head to work.

The door shut behind her with a click. "Again, sorry, Micheal, thought you were Henry. He always knows how to dodge a door."

Micheal gives a thumbs up as he cracked his nose back into place. "S'not the first time I've had to put it back in place."

Henry nearly jumped out of his seat. "Jen, don't you tell me you were in the neighborhood. Why are you here?" Henry knew she lived all the way in New York.

"You look 30 years younger Hen." Her face splits into a grin. "Now you know why I'm here. Where is he hiding?"

Henry steps back but is still grabbed, and she makes quick work of messing his hair and his beard up and taking his glasses. "Jen, you know I can't see without those." Henry sighs. "William is in my head, not my glasses."

"I'm old, not senile. I know he ain't in these glasses." She hums. "I would have been here sooner, but this was the earliest flight I could get on with such short notice."

Henry sighs, squinting his eyes. "Jen, could you please just give them back." He sighs. "You can have the guest room down the hall, Micheal and his partner Jeremy are using the one on the left."

"And?"

Henry scowls. "Oh, you can step on that old pair."

Jen laughs. "Ah, there he is." She hands him back the glasses. "We both know these are your new ones."

Henry sighs, putting his glasses back on. "Why are you here? You live halfway across the country."

Micheal's nose stopped bleeding, and he is sitting next to Jeremy.

Jen moved her luggage to her side and gave a look at Henry at screamed, really?. "Henry if it wasn't the fact that my kid brother is sharing his body with a ghost, it's the fact that your dead daughter and other dead kids are in a museum you run, now which one do you think I'm here for."

"And here I thought you liked the museum." Henry says, trying in vain to straighten out his messed up hair.

"I never said I didn't, Henry, but you're avoiding the killer in the room." He pauses. "Not you, Micheal, we both know that was an accident."

"Thanks, I guess?" Micheal, after talking to Evan, has made peace with that.

"Now Jen, before you start." Henry scowls as Jen places a finger on his lips.

"I don't care what you have to say for that man." Jen brushes her hand through her pixie cut. "William can speak for himself. We will talk later without the audience." Her attention turns to the mirror. "I see what the mirrors are for." She watches William realize she can see him as he vanishes. "And why was he in an old mechanics uniform that place has been condemned for decades."

Henry can feel William lock himself in his office. His spirit feels like it's trying to pull itself away from him. Henry sighs, rubbing his temples. "You two get along as well as a house on fire."

....

"No, Jen, I'm still sober, so why would I have alcohol in my home?" Henry sighs it's late, and Micheal and Jeremy took the first chance to leave to the museum they could. He rubbed his temples, and he loved his sister, but she could be a bit much.

"Why?"

"Why what Jen?" Henry sighs.

"Henry, why are you trusting him again after everything." Jen sat across from him, leaning back on the couch, arms crossed.

Henry frowns, looking at his water bottle, hoping if he stared long enough, it would turn into something harder. "I..." He stops he doesn't know why he does. Even with the ability to see his friend's memories and with more context from Micheal. Henry still trusted William before that.

Jen reached over, holding onto Henry's hand. "I know he's.... I know you two are close. He's the reason Charlie is gone. He's the reason she never grew up."

Henry shut his eyes and took a breath. "Remember Clara?"

"Unfortunately..." Jen sighs and shuts her eyes and opens them. "Don't blame it on her."

"William killed them, yes, but.."

"Henry..."

"Clara is the reason why Elizabeth disappeared." Henry shouts. "I saw William's memory, Jen. She wasn't dead after Baby grabbed her by accident. I didn't see it. I heard her choking her, then a snap." He places his glass down. "Jen, Clara was the one who started it. She pushed and used William as a puppet. I'm not forgiving William. I don't think I could ever do that, but the past is the past, and no matter how much I learn, it won't ever change it." Henry laughs it's cold and empty. "Days like these. I wish I never quit the bottle."

Jen swallows. "Henry I..." She frowns. "What else did you see?"

Henry covers his face. "You think I'm mad, don't you. You think I deserve to be locked up where mother was sent."

Jen gets up and slaps Henry across the face. "Henry."

Henry sighs, holding his cheek, and he looks away. "I.... I deserve that."

Jen sits next to her brother and sighs. "Look, I still hate the man." She pauses and grabs Henry's hands. "But if what you saw was the truth, I may have room to let it slide that he is taking residence in my brother."

Henry looks away. "I'm sorry."

"Don't, Henry, no more. We're both too old for that." She sighs and leans back on the couch. "This ruins my plans. I was gonna call an exorcist." He spots a small crack of a smile. "Eh, we both know that doesn't work."

Henry bit his lip. "Jen, is it bad that I want him to stay?"

Jen pauses and lets out a breath. She brushes the stray hair out of Henry's face. "No. Henry, you're human, and I don't think there is anything more human than wanting someone."

Henry nods and shuts his eyes. "He's hiding."

"I know." She sighs. "Go find him, Henry. Lord knows you need sleep, and looking for him is a great excuse." She chuckles. "But drag his ass out, I have to have a chat with him."

"I rather not risk my body over a chat." Henry sighs getting up. "Thank you."

"Don't you go thanking me yet. You have to tell me the truth about something."

Henry stops and lingers by the couch.

"Micheal ain't sick, right?" Jen looked up at Henry. He saw a familiar look in her eyes.

Henry shook his head. "No, but that knock to his skull didn't help. Micheal is fine.... not fine. He's recovering."

"Recovering?"

Henry pauses and grabs a pen and writes something down. He holds Jen's hand before handing it over. "I know you never truly liked William, but he was with the devil, and not by choice. Look this up at your own peril, and what you see of Micheal don't hold it against that poor boy."

Jen holds onto the paper as she watches her brother leave.

.....

Henry wouldn't call this sleeping, not anymore, at least. He shut his eyes, and when he opened them, he was young and free to roam his mind. No more tossing and turning, no more pretending to sleep till you actually sleep, just eyes close and he's in his head while his body rests. He must thank William for that one of these days.

Henry frowns as he spots his hands. Only the tips of his fingers are pitch, but he knows what that means. Maybe the conversation with his sister did go as well as he hoped, and maybe he did have some lingering feelings. That didn't matter he had to find William, and he wasn't all monsterfied yet. He wouldn't scare him. He wouldn't....

Henry shook his head clear of those thoughts, no violence, no attacking. He was calm and focused. Did William's neck still hurt? Does he have the marks? Henry bit his lip and took a breath. Relax, you just have to find him to talk. Tell him what you talked about with Jen. Be open and honest, no more secrets.

Henry sighs, walking down the halls of his mind. William felt so far away that he had gotten used to him being in the empty spaces he had, but now it felt like he was a ghost, and his touch was barely there. He held onto his hand, seeing the black ichor travel along his hand spreading. He needed to relax.

The old door, rusted numbers, seemed like gold as he approached. His hand traced the old rusted numbers before he punched in the old code and opened the door. The smell of ash filled his nose as he looked around. The area changed again. It was bare save for the fireplace, and his friend laying on the floor by the fire.

"William?" Henry rushed over and reached out to his friend, he forces himself to stop seeing his own claws and put his hands by his side. "William, are you ok?"

William seemed to be at peace. His face was relaxed, and he seemed to be asleep. His face scrunched, then relaxed as he opened his eyes. Henry can see his breath catch in his throat as he stares into Henry's eyes.

Henry smiles on reflex, showing off his sharp teeth in the process. He realizes his mistake when he covers his mouth, and his black eyes seem to stare into the man below him. "I-" right accent is strong, and he can't fix that right now. He takes a breath and tries again. "William, are you ok?" He nearly loses his balance as the area blinks and shifts into a dim bedroom.

William has a red blush across his cheeks as he pulls himself up to stand next to his friend. "Did I?" He stops, and he composes himself. "Did I upset you?"

Henry brushed the hair out off his friends face and smiled, still too many sharp teeth. "I wasn't talking to you before. I love my sister, but sometimes it can be a bit much."

William nodded. His mouth was dry, Henry stood in front of him, a mix of a monster and the man that held his heart in his hand and could destroy him with words if he so chose. "Are you ok?" He manages to get out before be nearly trips over a couch that appears next to the two.

Henry smiles and holds onto William's hand, careful of his claws. "We talked, and I don't think I want you pulling away."

William can feel his breath catch in his throat as he is guided to sit on the couch. Henry was next to him, and they were leaning on each other. He was having a hard time getting his mind to catch up with his actions.

Henry was smiling at him, and it made everything in his mind harder to put together. He was asking him something, and it just didn't click together. William's form flickered again to his cowboy shirt and shorts.

Henry pushed back William's hair it was longer, and he did love the curls. "You seem more relaxed now." He smiles again. "William, are you ok now?"

William blinked, and he seemed to come back to reality. "I am ok. I apologize for running away." Henry laughed, and it made him melt.

"I know Jen doesn't like you, and I know you two never got along, but please don't pull away again." He sighs, putting his hands to his lap and leans against the couch. "I hope these visits aren't annoying for you. We do share my body now, so I can understand if you want space."

William wanted to whine at the loss of contact. He wanted to pull this man into a kiss. He wanted to just stay there forever, laying on his chest and listening to his heartbeat. "I... I don't mind the visits." He smiles.

Henry hums. "I'm glad because I don't think I want to stop visiting you while I sleep."

William watched the black leak out from Henry's form, and his amber eyes were staring at him. The sharp animalistic features have melted away as he watched Henry relax. Maybe he did want to rile Henry up again to see the full monster, not... he shook those thoughts from his mind, ignoring the new doors.

"Ah, do you have something on your mind?" His accent was hidden again.

"I suppose, but it's not something that seems appropriate to share." William sighs, leaning on the opposite side of the couch from his friend. "Feeling better?"

"I suppose I am." Henry smiles

....

Micheal hums, picking up his phone. "Hello?"

"Ah, Micheal." A tough feminine voice was on the other line.

"Aunt Jen?" Micheal pauses. He didn't know why she was calling. Worse case, Uncle Henry and his father got into a massive spat, and his father is somehow in her body. He shudders. In the best case, it's 3am she probably accidently called him.

"Your mom."

Click

Micheal hung up. He didn't mean to. He kind of just panicked and hung up. He could feel his heart start to race, and his phone was ringing again. He felt static around his ears, and a piano started to play on the speakers.

"Guys, not now." Micheal barely got out, and he fell to his knees. He was doing so well, too. He wasn't getting enough air. His face was wet. Was he crying? He couldn't breathe.

The soft piano got louder, and Micheal covered his ears. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry." He chokes out as he curls into himself. "I didn't mean to. I-i promise I'll be good." His voice got more panicked as the piano got louder.

.....

Henry had a failsafe built into the museum. Well, he had several built-in, but only a few he trained Charlie and the other kids to use, and one that William knew. Granted, the one William knew would set everything ablaze in hellfire, but Charlie knew if someone got hurt to alert the police. Well, Henry taught her to call 911 in the puppet body, the man knew he wasn't going to live forever, and as he got older he knew it was a matter of time before his body gave out. He just wanted to make sure that Charlie knew what to do in case that happened at the museum.

...

The red and blue flashing lights outside the museum lit the outside up as an officer entered the building. The officer didn't like that the door was unlocked.

"Down the hall." A child voice alerted the officer.

The young officer gripped his gun as he made his way down the exhibits. He didn't know the history. He just moved to this town. He didn't know why his partner laughed at him when he asked for someone to come inside.

"Hurry..." A different child's voice.

The only thing the young officer saw was the animotronics that seemed to stare down at him as he kept going forward. What he was told was that an old man ran this place, and it was probably a prank call, something about this place being haunted.

"Keep goings he's right there." A third child.

The officer nearly jumped hearing an adult voice. A man was curled up on the floor. He was wearing a security uniform, and he didn't look like he was in good shape.

The officer didn't think twice about calling for an ambulance.

.....

Laughter was the first thing Micheal heard when he came too. Then he saw the flashing lights. There was no ambulance, which he was grateful for. He adjusts himself, focusing on the two officers in front of him. He was in the back of a cop car.

"Am I being arrested?" Micheal croaked blinking, and the older officer laughed even harder. He pulled himself up to sit up.

The older officer. "No, not at all." He snickers. "But you did help break in the newbie."

The younger officer was red-faced. "I, but I swear I heard kids."

"Can you believe he just came to Hurricane and didn't hear the rumors about this place. Hah, anyhow, you alright found you passed out."

Micheal sighs, putting his hat back on. "Just had a panic attack... officer... Murray."

The officer chuckles. "You must be the new night guard then. Finally, that old man got someone to look after that place. He pushes himself too hard."

Micheal sighs getting up. "I apologize for the trouble."

"Don't kid, you made my night." The older officer pats his younger partner on the back. "Greenhorn here needed one of these calls to these places under his belt."

"I swear there were children." The younger office shudders.

"And I swore there was too when I started as well, never found any just had a smell." He chuckles. "Go finish up your shift. I'll take the rookie back on patrol."

Micheal nods, waving the police away as they drive off. Who called the police? Was he panicking that bad? He got his answer as he returned inside.

"Mikey." Static pierced his ears as Evan was crying.

"Hey Ev, what's wrong?"

"Mikey." He cries harder as the static becomes deafening.

"Evan, I'm ok." Micheal covers his ears. "I'm ok. I didn't mean to scare you."

Lizzie was on the loudspeaker. "Mikey, why did you break?"

Micheal frowns.

Micheal sighs, and he is heading back to grab his phone. "You guys did a great job. That officer was terrified."

Static brushed his ear. "Did we break you?"

Micheal frowns, sending a text to Aunt Jen, I'm fine. Just don't talk about her to me, please. He puts his phone back in his pocket and sighs. "It wasn't you guys, definitely not you, Ev."

"But Mikey, why?" Lizzie was using the loud speaker.

"Remember, mom?" Micheal flinched, just bringing her up. "Mom doesn't like me. You know what dad did to these guys."

"Did mom hurt you?" Evans soft voice blanketed the static that came along with it.

"Yeah, she did." He needed a drink. "I don't want to talk about it. She did very bad things to me, things I don't ever want to talk about."

"Sorry, Mikey."

"Don't apologize it's not your fault, Ev, and it's not yours either, Lizzie. Mom wasn't a good person, and well, let me tell you a secret, she's the reason dad hurt you all."

The kids try to push more from Micheal, but he stops talking about it. Lizzie swears she didn't touch mom's music box, but it kept playing, which made Micheal put on his headphones till 6 am.

...

...

Henry stretched as he got up, and he ended up planning future animotronics with William. He could swear William wanted to tell him something, but he never did. Speaking of which, William was trying to fix his outfit in the mirror.

"Willy?" Henry yawned as he got out of bed.

"I can't with these clothes. How did they even change?" He was wearing a shirt that read in bold letters. I really want to ride a cowboy. The shirt was baggy like it was made for a man of a bigger statue than he was. His shorts were short. They looked like sweatpants lost a fight with a pair of scissors. He wasn't even wearing matching socks. Although his hair was longer, and it curled in a way Henry really enjoyed.

Henry hums. "You look comfortable."

"That is not the point." William sighs. "I do not want your sister to see me like this."

"I highly doubt she will care what you look like." Henry hums, looking at his phone. He frowns as he reads a text from Micheal. "Ballora music box seems to have been malfunctioning."

"The one I made for Clara?"

"The one in the same. Micheal says it hasn't stopped playing even when he left this morning." Henry furrows his brows. "Did you create it to keep going?"

"No, I made it to play Clara's ballad, the one she would perform to. It's a simple music box. It stops when the song is over." William pokes his head over Henry's shoulder. "I only made it to go with the animotronic. It was a gift, but she hated it."

Henry frowns. "I'll have to look at it today. I had to do basic matientice anyway for the museum."

William floated after Henry as he left his room and made his way down to the kitchen.

Jen was already up and handed Henry a cup of tea. "Three sugars and an ungodly amount of milk, you godless heaven. Just drink a glass of milk, Hen."

Henry sighs. "Thank you, Jen, but what did you do?" Henry knew his sister never made him his favorite way to drink tea unless she messed something up.

"Called Micheal last night." Jen frowns, sipping her coffee. "May of mentioned his mother, and I think Charlie called the police."

William was right next to Jen. "You did what? Bloody Fucking don't breathe her name to my son ever again."

Henry sighs. "Is he ok?"

"He said the older cop was laughing, something about a rookie popping there, fazebear cherry." Jen sighs. "Micheal is fine, I didn't sleep. Saw him when he got here. He did want to tell you that the music box is acting up, and I quote you better fix it before I burn it."

Henry nods. "He did text me about that. I should let him burn that old thing, but I also don't want to tell the shareholders about moving company property." He sighs. "How long are you staying?"

"Here? I'm leaving in the afternoon, Hurricane, not till after the reunion." Jen smiles. "Rented out that old house on the hill, gonna fix it up a bit before everyone comes."

Henry nods. "You sure it's big enough?"

"Eh, it will do." Jen shrugs, nearly spitting out her coffee, getting a glimpse of William in the reflection of the metal fridge. "In the good lords name Henry, what is he wearing?"

"Will doesn't look that bad, he looks.... comfortable." Henry smiles, watching William roll his eyes.

"Just say I look like a mess." William sighs.

"What does the shirt say?" Jen squints, but William has left the reflection.

"Oh, it says I really want to ride a cowboy. I don't know where he got that from, but it's the second time I've seen him in the shirt." Henry smiles, opening the fridge. "Want me to make you anything?"

"Oh honey." Jen sighs and shakes her head.

....

The murmur from the museum was a white noise to Henry as he began his schedule maintenance. Everything was in working order, and Jeremy tagging along was a help. The familiar notes filled the air as he got closer to the music box.

A few guests lingered on the music box.

"Wow, they are really teasing the night tours."

"I can't wait."

"If this is a taste, I can't wait to see what they do in the future."

Henry shook his head as he pulled out his old toolbox he pulled a control panel from the floor and pressed a few buttons to let the glass sink into the floor so he could get to the box.

William has his hands placed near it. He was focused, and it looked like his hands were itching to take the old music box apart.

A cursory glance revealed the gears to be spinning, and the mechanism working like it should, but there was no oil, or anyone continuously winding the box for it to keep going.

"Looks haunted." Jeremy broke the silence. He was smiling as he set up cation tape so Henry could work without interference.

"Jeremy, most everything here is haunted." William sighs, not moving his gaze from the box.

Henry smiles softly. "These weren't, I always thought Ballora would have Micheal, but he's still around, so that was never the case." He pulls his hand back as he is shocked as he tries to start opening it up. He opens and closes his hand, there was a slight burn mark on his hand.

Jeremy frowns, looking over. "Mr. Emily?"

Henry frowns. "Get me some bandages from the first aid kit, then I want this area blocked off."

William raises his brow but nods, something didn't feel right. "Are you ok?"

"Just a burn. This box doesn't run on electricity, or batteries, or even oil. It's a wind-up box with gears and springs. This can't generate heat, let alone electricity to burn." He sighs. "Is there another you never told me about?"

"Before you found me? No." William clicks his tongue. "Do you think...." He doesn't finish that thought when Henry shakes his head.

"I want this area blocked off and secure." He watches Jeremy as he hands him bandages. He wraps his hand up and gives a look to Ballora. "I have to talk to Charlie tonight."

He quickly inputs a code, returning the glass around the music box that still continues to play. "Jeremy, tell the other guards Ballora exhibit is strictly off limits until future notice."

Jeremy nods and gets on his walkie.

...

Henry is pacing William's office. "William, I swear if there is another child." He has lost complete control, and he has scratched up William's walls.

William can feel the claws against the walls as if they were against his own skin, and it made him weak. He shook his head he needed to calm Henry down now fuel him. "Henry... Henry, please stop, I can feel your claws." His voice quiet as he watched Henry raise his hand then freeze.

The color drained from Henry's cheeks as he stared at William. "You can feel?" He stepped back and bit his lip sharp teeth, drawing a black bubbling liquid from the wound. "I-"

William rushed over, grabbing a clawed hand. "Henry, I swear to you those kids are the only ones. Just breathe, ok."

"I hurt you." Henry's black eyes stared into William. He stepped back. "I didn't, I didn't."

William held both of Henry's clawed hands. They could rip him to shreds, and he would thank the man in front of him for touching him. "I'm fine, Henry. I swear I'm fine. Besides, I hurt you first."

"That doesn't. It shouldn't." Henry pulls his hands back to cover his face.

"Are those horns?"

"What?" Henry peaked through his fingers like a child as he looked at William.

"Horns Henry, yaknow the devil lot has em." William thickened his accent. He knew it made Henry smile when he did.

Henry pauses as he breathes in, almost mistakenly for a laugh. "Devil lot?"

"Wat you never refer to a group as a lot." William smiles softly as Henry uncovers his face.

"No?" Henry tries to slick his hair back but is stopped by two objects in his skull. He can feel a blush on his cheeks. "What?"

William snickers. "Like I said devil lot."

......

Micheal lingered outside the building. He saw his uncle unlock the doors, and he really didn't want to go inside. Last night was a disaster, and he didn't want to hear that damn melody again.

"Micheal?" Henry looked over. He looked tired, too. "You don't have to join us."

Micheal shook his head. "It's not like it will kill me to be a little uncomfortable. Is your hand ok?"

"It's a little electrical burn, nothing I haven't dealt with before." He sighs, opening the door for Micheal to enter.

"Hi Mikey, oh daddy, I have to tell you something." Charlie climbed down from the ceiling and placed her puppet face against the glass. "There's gonna be a new kid."

Henry frowns. "A new kid?"

"Dunno if they're a kid, but they aren't dead yet." Charlie hums. "They like the music box."

Micheal stops gripping the heavy flashlight in his pocket. "Not dead yet?"

"Nope." Charlie huffs. "They aren't like us. They keep fighting." Her voice distorts. "It isn't a trap they shouldn't fight. It's a gift."

"Charlie." Henry's voice is stern.

The distortion fades, and her voice returns to normal. "Sorry, Daddy."

Micheal shudders.

"What do you mean by not like us?" Henry looked around listening to the other kids stretch their metal bodies.

"They are like Uncle Will, but uhhhhhh." She stops climbing the wall again, hanging upside down. "We like Uncle Will now. I don't think I like the new one coming."

"Bad... "

"Don't want them..."

"Need to...."

"Punish." The museum shakes with the children's voices overlapping and distorting.

Henry claps his hands, and everything stops. "Charlie, who is coming?"

She drops down. "Mikey looks pale."

"Charlie darling?"

"I dunno, Daddy, they aren't dead yet." Charlie crawls back into her box.

Henry frowns and grabs Micheal's hand. The air grows still as the museum quiets down. "Micheal, I need you to check out everyone. I will take the west side you take the east, we will meet in the middle."

Micheal nods, clicking on his flashlight. "The glass will hold?"

"I tested it myself." Henry nods.

[lovemesomesurveys]

Do you want the last dream you had to come true? I don’t recall my last dream, but I’m gonna say no cause my dreams tend to be really weird and random. 

When did you last talk to the person you'd most wanna talk to right now? There isn’t anyone I really want to talk to right now. 

What kind of pill did you last take? My sleeping pill. 

Do you like wearing glasses? I actually do. I feel super weird without them. I think I kinda hide behind my glasses so there’s that, but yeah I have no desire to get contacts or like laser surgery. 

Does your mom know the last person you hung out with? Yes, she knows herself. 

What were you doing 4 hours ago? I was watching Yellowjackets with my mom and bro. I know, I know I’m super late to that show but naturally and no to surprise to no one I’m obsessed already and I’m only on the 4th episode. I was in episode 1. 

What would you most like to eat right now? I’m looking forward to the Taco Bell I’ll be eating pretty soon.

How long were you last in the car for? Uhh like 5 minutes, if even that. 

What is something good that happened last weekend? My aunt came to visit me for a few days and we had fun as always.

Do you like holding hands or do you think it's stupid? I think it’s cute. It’s also not so black and white, like there’s other options you could throw in there. 

The last song you heard, what does it make you think of? I forget what song I last listened to.

How'd you get your last injury? Health related issues. 

What do you like about your birthday? I don’t get as into it like I used to, like I used to get so excited when I was younger. My birthday is just whatever. It’s nice if I’m able to go somewhere, like a little vacay getaway, though. 

Do you like being home alone at night? No.

What first comes to mind when thinking of 10th grade? That was the year I started my emo phase. 

What's the scariest thing that's happened to you? Uhhh.

Has an ambulance ever came to your house? Yes.

The person you're thinking about- what are you thinking about them? I’m not really thinking about anybody.

When did you last skip class? *shrug* I’ve been outta school since 2015. 

Do you like the shape of your fingernails? Ha, what nails?

Did you look at your fingernails for the question above? No. I already knew I barely had any nails to check. 

Whose pool did you last swim in? It was my friend’s boyfriend’s (at the time) community pool. That was a decade ago. 

What's something you like about your 3rd hour? --

Is formspring a good idea? I had one back in the day and it was interesting, but no one ever sent me questions, ha. I just answered the ones you could choose from that were asked by like a bot or something. There was some celebrity tea being spilled on some formsprings, which at the time I ate right up. 

What's your biggest problem at the moment? Meh.

What's the cutest thing someone's ever done for you? Hmm. I’m not sure what I’d say was “the” cutest. 

When did you last see a police car? *shrug*

Why aren't you doing something more productive than this? I have nothing else I need to be doing, let me be.

How many people know about the last person you kissed? A few.

How many different cars have you driven? I’ve never driven a car. 

What did you do on Thursday? I had a doctor appointment in the morning and then just chilled and napped. 

What color was the last thing you drank? Light brown coffee with some cream color. 

What do you do on Fridays? Same shit I do everyday. 

Have you ever had to take desperate measures in a desperate situation? Mhm. 

What door did you last open besides any on your house or car? I haven’t opened any doors in awhile. Kinda hard when you’re bedridden and even if I’m up in my chair I’d still need help. I don’t need to open any doors in my house, so that’a helpful. I don’t go anywhere, except for a doctor appointment, and in those cases I’m being pushed around in a gurney so I can’t open any doors. 

What is the meaning of life? To figure out what that meaning is for you.

[suckitsurveys]

Do you want the last dream you had to come true? The last dream I remember having was the other night. In that dream, my sister and some friends and I got stranded in New England somewhere and Will Arnett offered to let us stay at this weird castle he owned? What in the Rocky Horror? Anyway, I wouldn’t mind the part with Will Arnett in it coming true lol.

When did you last talk to the person you’d most wanna talk to right now? This morning before I left for work.

What kind of pill did you last take? Asprin.

Do you like wearing glasses? I don’t mind it. Switching between my sunglasses and regular glasses is a pain, though.

Does your mom know the last person you hung out with? My mom’s dead, so.

What were you doing 4 hours ago? I was just arriving to work.

What would you most like to eat right now? The person before me mentioned taco bell and that sounds amazing right now actually lol.

How long were you last in the car for? 20 minutes.

What is something good that happened last weekend? I saw and met Michael Longfellow!!!!!!!!!!!!

Do you like holding hands or do you think it’s stupid? I don’t think it’s stupid.

The last song you heard, what does it make you think of? I forget what song I last listened to.

How’d you get your last injury? I scraped my hand against a cheese grater. Ew.

What do you like about your birthday? Blah.

Do you like being home alone at night? Sure.

What first comes to mind when thinking of 10th grade? Barf.

What’s the scariest thing that’s happened to you? I don’t know.

Has an ambulance ever came to your house? Yes.

The person you’re thinking about- what are you thinking about them? I’m not really thinking about anybody.

When did you last skip class? I don’t know.

Do you like the shape of your fingernails? Not currently. I need to get them done so bad.

Did you look at your fingernails for the question above? Hahah I did.

Whose pool did you last swim in? The public pool at the park district near my house.

What’s something you like about your 3rd hour? ?

Is formspring a good idea? I hardly remember the premise of it.

What’s your biggest problem at the moment? Meh.

What’s the cutest thing someone’s ever done for you? Hmm. I’m not sure what I’d say was “the” cutest. Mark has done a lot of cute things for me.

When did you last see a police car? I don’t know, maybe this morning?

Why aren’t you doing something more productive than this? I am lol.

How many people know about the last person you kissed? I mean, most people who know me?

How many different cars have you driven? Yikes, in total? I couldn’t tell you. Aside from the 3 that were mine, I’ve driven a handful of rental cars, friends’ cars, and family memebers’ cars.

What did you do on Thursday? Worked and then picked up my nieces from school. We went to Party City and McDonalds and then went to their new house.

What color was the last thing you drank? Black coffee.

What do you do on Fridays? I don’t have a particular thing I do on Fridays.

Have you ever had to take desperate measures in a desperate situation? Mhm.

What door did you last open besides any on your house or car? The door to the office I work in.

What is the meaning of life? Idk.

[akash1618]

7 mar. friday

got a 333. wearing my usual white, and feeling very bright. i have applied a bandage to my toe, but it's still difficult to walk without feeling pain.

at marol depot now. got a 312. no traffic today.

i am only searching for peace in my life. i don't find it at my home - it's either because of my father, or my mother and brother arguing, always. i nor find it in the office - where i am constantly worried if i should even speak with coworkers or not. nor do i find it while travelling, unless i plug in a song in my ears while i sit at a window seat. these are the only three places i belong to throughout the week. i only go to mahalakshmi because that's the only place ik i can find peace at. if i could, i would buy a house on a semi-rural beach-side and live there forever.

the problem with feeling so intensely is that i can barely speak what i feel. it's such a trade-off. many times i don't even have words to write what i feel. and moreover, my emotions often show up on my face, but i am learning to control my face.

yes. ok. yes. pinterest is so romantic. and yes, i'd like to know more about her somehow.

i have realised that nobody can save anyone else. you must find your own answers. you can take assistance from others, but it's you who would be solving your own puzzle, and everyone has a different puzzle to solve. maybe it's like a point system - you help others solve their puzzle with your strengths, and you get points for it, and then vice-versa; maybe some of their puzzles cannot even be solved without your assistance. what do i have to offer to others except my presence and my smile? ig i am thinking too much.

---

at office around 9:30. i was trying to keep my sleeves full for the day. but i rolled them up eventually while i went to get a coffee.

i saw her once through the glass, while she was walking. seeing her actually makes me weak in the knees. i never understood what it meant before, but i get it now.

meh. social media sucks. so many things being fed in head that idec about.

another day of sunny making me realise that i look bald and ugly, and don't deserve her. ok mate. but i really have started believing that she does like me.

another dude from her company, whom i often see around - i was thinking about chatting with him as well. it didnt manifest into something though. i have talked to him twice before, but he doesn't talk back much. but he seems very friendly.

sunny's friend came and sat at the desk in front of me. every time this friend is present, it make it even more difficult to look up ahead. there's already the reflection of the glass problem, the pillar in between problem, then there's my poor luck.

also, the new tiny cabin that has been built at the rear end of her cabin - makes it even more difficult. actually doesnt do much harm. it was anyway very rare for her to come at the rear door of her cabin, but now, i can never even see if she ever comes there. there's too much frosting on the glass. well, yea, maybe she can use that safe space for herself now without worrying about anything else.

lunch time. canteen. we went early today at 12:45. all desks were empty. my small red tiffin broke yesterday, so mother gave the old blue box.

didn't see her up for lunch today. i really thought she had finally started eating on time. i had forgotten that eating on time is a privilege in itself.

after i came down from lunch, i saw her once through the glass once again. 1.13 was open, so. but i couldn't very much actually. she wore a yellow-brownish shirt. sunny's friend was in front of me, and it was making me feel awkward to look straight up.

boss's wife's grandmother passed away sadly. there should proly be no reception tomorrow.

we went to have icecream in the evening. i had momos- veg steamed, and then a vanilla icecream at apsara. so no canteen.

coworkers have been asking me if they should assist me in talking to her somehow. this started as a joke at first but idk anymore how this is going. there is one guy, who's her friend, and plays table tennis with coworkers - he can supposedly help me set up a chat with her. and then sunny has told his friend now that i like someone, so even she can approach her and set up a chat. but idk how this stuff works. because at the end, i would have to do the talking, and i am clueless about how and what to talk about. ig atp, half of the hub would be knowing that i like her lol.

came back.

there would proly be no reception tomorrow. rather, it shouldn't be. but in case there is - would i see her there tomorrow? she is an acquaintance of boss right? so maybe he has invited her? idk. i wish.

its the eod. kinda bad day. didn't even see her directly even once, after all the stupid things i do to see her.

went to washroom, and when i was returning - had just opened the door, she was in front of me. she was on a call. i thought she had left, so it was surprising(err shocking) to see her, but it was a weird place. it's a very cramped corner, and i just lowkey ran away from that awkward situation.

i ran to my desk, and hurriedly checked my water bottle and left to go to the dispenser asap. my bottle was half full, but i couldn't care less. sunny saw me leave.

when i had almost reached near to the dispenser, i saw her through the glass. i could not take my eyes away from her. but she saw me and left. on the other hand, sunny came running towards me, and started teasing me. he has swore to insult me whenever i am around her - that's against bro code, but he doesnt like me, so. i burnt my hand with hot water while i was asking him to stop.

it kinda felt sad that she left after seeing me. if i had not been there, she might have stayed. she hates my presence ig.

the leaves are slowly bending downwards :*( the next i meet you is on monday mate.

on the bus stop - those two guys who had asked me for money, came back again. i said to them that i already paid them. ofc i am not paying them again. one guy was different from the last time though. he pretended to be a psychic of some sort. stated the obvious ones like - you life has been in trouble recently and good times will roll in from april blah blah. said that 16 is a prominent number for me. then asked me to name a bird. ofc peacock. then asked me to pick out the initial and count the position of p in the alphabets. i counted, and it came out as 15. he corrected and asked me to count again. p is 16 lol. "didn't i say 16 is prominent?" ok sir, after this "magic trick" he asked money from me again. i refused again. i am not trusting these type of dudes ever again in my life. the most surprising thing was - right after he asked my name - he instantly said my rashi was mesh. i don't believe in astrology, but ik for sure that moon sign is harder to predict. iirc it requires place and time of birth.

i hate psychics.

got a 181 at around 8:40.

it's kinda sad, but guess i can conclude from today's incident at least that she doesn't like me. today was actually supposed to be the last day of me believing that she liked me, and it didn't end well. i would have liked to continue, but it can only go as far. kinda feeling very empty. well, what's to be expected? it's like sunny says - it's difficult for anyone to fall for me because i am ugly, stupid, timid, and just not likable in general.

yea, i have got nothing to me but just an ugly smile. i have been anyway unable to smile from my heart in years now.

looping until i found her. it feels empty.

nelco at 9:25. istg i saw a shooting star at 9:28. it was a bright light falling down. there are no fireworks around, nor is there any fire, nor are any airplanes, nor any focus lights, nor any insects flying around. maybe just my mind playing tricks on me. i did make a wish though.

got a 333.

haha, what did i found today -

(forgot to attach)

[pri-viv]

🎨 How do you feel about fanart?  [I feel okay with fanart! I like seeing fanart of stuff.]

📝 How do you feel about fanfiction? [Fanfiction is cool. Some can be out there. But all power to writers.]

✅ What does the fandom usually get right? [Error does in fact wear glasses! And I was a destructor. That is one thing.]

❌ What does the fandom usually get wrong? [I don’t have a liking to Ink. I dislike him actually. I like Classic!Sans.]

🗺️ What do you miss about your world? [I miss my home. Not the Void. But the snow filled town. Or city. I guess.]

💔 Who are you missing right now? [Right now, I miss my old life. And I miss those who accepted me.]

🚫 Is there anyone you hope to never see again? [No. Not fully.]

🔀 How canon-divergent vs. canon-compliant are you? [Do you mean canon different vs. canon similar? To a fanfiction, close. There is enough differences to be distinctly divergent however. To the actual AU, sorta meh compliant. But I would rather live normally then deal with all the chaos of multiverses and screwed up friends.]

⚧ What were your gender and orientation in your timeline; was your identity canon? [Male and nonbinary. I was queer. Best way to explain it, gay. I don’t know what the last part means. But if you mean in sources, hmmmm, most likely I guess.]

💗 What helps you feel closer to your source (in a positive way)? [Talking to other Undertale and Sans au kintypes. Error based items. Drawing my life. Listening to playlists. Reading. That sorta stuff.]

🖊️ Do you use your name from your source? [Yes, when discussing kins. Very little with trusted people.]

👬 How do you feel about doubles? [Doubles are fine. Can be a bit off putting. But the multiverse does exist. I expected it.]

⭐ Is your fiction-based identity spiritual, psychological, or something else? [I don’t know. Most likely psychological. As he was my comfort character during a very depressed era and for many many years even before that. I felt like I was Error in identity for the longest time before I actually could define my full experiences. I guess even at the start. I just was afraid people I knew would judge me. When I started accepting myself instead of shaking myself away, I was able to process more. Nowadays, I really miss my past life and I feel spiritually intertwined with it. I am him. I had a life. I had a family. And I feel sorrow for it. I want to cry sometimes. And I want to go back to those warm winter clothes, holding them in my arm, finding solace in my mate despite everybody else. Drinking a warm mug of coffee outside. Kids bundled up in scarves playing in the snow. Stopping by the restaurant and talking to hothead over there. And it is all gone. I guess I yearn a lot for it. And when those shifts hit, I wish I could ball myself up. Psychological beginnings, spiritual, it doesn't matter. I'm just here. I'm me and that won't change.]

🎙️ What’s the biggest difference between you and your canon self? [Hard one, heh. Hm. I wasn’t as injured as I was canonically. I suppose.]

💞 What’s the biggest similarity between you and your canon self? [There is a lot to unpack there. I still like exploring knitting/sewing.]

❓ Do you prefer when people are familiar or unfamiliar with your source when they meet you? [Perhaps familiar. So they aren’t weirded out. But sometimes I like not having to disclose myself or talk for hours on end about our pasts. I honestly don’t tell them who I am. Oh well. Most don't know and that is why most stay unfamiliar. When I have to tell them, well it is anxiety inducing.]

👍 What’s your favorite thing about your source? [Definitely escaping that gosh awful Ink. Ink, forbid, made me hate myself. He made me feel alone. I’m glad I had someone to back me up.]

👎 What’s your least favorite thing about your source? [There wasn’t as many folks as most multiverses have. I wish I got to know more people. Then again, while I talked to people, I was pretty antisocial. I guess I wish there was just more activity then there was. But we had more snow then most multiverses did. Can’t blame em. ]

💸 Do you own any merch of your source? [No, but I own gloves with top patterns mimicking Fresh and Error. Hopefully that counts.]

🌸 Do you feel comfortable in your fiction-based identity? [Well, at first fearing I had a fiction based Identity I was panicked. But I met some fictionkins and accepted myself after a while. A while being perhaps 4-6 years. It was easier since I basically had time to meet good people. The first time I met fictionkins wasn’t ideal to say the least..]

🌻 Who are you open with about your fiction-based identity? [Some kins and two members of my family members. Sort of. Well one fully.] ----- If you have any questions please feel free to ask.  We don’t bite at all. But we do take everything seriously. So please use tone tags if you wish to joke. Thank you for your time. We wish you all well.

Ask Game: Fictionkin, Fictives, and Other Fiction-based Identities

this post is safe for folks with any fictional source and for endogenic systems! please don't reblog if your blog is not

🎨 How do you feel about fanart?

📝 How do you feel about fanfiction?

✅ What does the fandom usually get right?

❌ What does the fandom usually get wrong?

🗺️ What do you miss about your world?

💔 Who are you missing right now?

🚫 Is there anyone you hope to never see again?

🔀 How canon-divergent vs. canon-compliant are you?

⚧ What were your gender and orientation in your timeline; was your identity canon?

💗 What helps you feel closer to your source (in a positive way)?

🖊️ Do you use your name from your source?

👬 How do you feel about doubles?

⭐ Is your fiction-based identity spiritual, psychological, or something else?

🎙️ What's the biggest difference between you and your canon self?

💞 What's the biggest similarity between you and your canon self?

❓ Do you prefer when people are familiar or unfamiliar with your source when they meet you?

👍 What's your favorite thing about your source?

👎 What's your least favorite thing about your source?

💸 Do you own any merch of your source?

🌸 Do you feel comfortable in your fiction-based identity?

🌻 Who are you open with about your fiction-based identity?

[blueaprondelight]

exes with benefits | lip gallagher

inspired by: olivia rodrigo's "bad idea, right?" (2023)

wc: 1.83k | nav post mae note: okay i hate the ending of this so if anyone else hates it please lmk and i will adjust it because ugh i changed it like three times and it still feels... meh? idk i feel like i need to make a part two (if people even like this??)

rating: 18+ post, minors dni. :-) content warnings: fem!reader / afab!reader, unwrapped p in v (wrap it before you tap it!), kinda public sex??, exes hooking up, plot with little plot, unsettled ending lmfao, fem!fingering, oral (f recieving) bc lets be honest lip is a munch, brief mention of reader wearing panties/a bra

House parties were never really your "scene".

The chaos and uncertainty of whose house you're even in, the smell of colognes and perfumes and sweat, the alcohol being mixed together in plastic cups that are discarded on the floor later that smell like Disneyland if it wasn't cleaned in a month-. Every part of a house party sounds awful. So, why are you standing in one now?

Well, your friend Lauren would be the reason why. Work had been a bitch for her recently - her words not yours - and you had gone through a breakup recently, prompting her to suggest a girl's night out. How you ended up at a house party from the crappy bar she dragged you to in downtown Chicago was beyond you.

"C'mon! This is totally gonna distract you from Lippy and all the drama he brought. To being single!" Lauren drunkingly cheers as she holds up her plastic cup of (you're sure) three different kinds of alcohol. You hold up your glass of water barely, running a hand over your face. "Yeah, can we not announce that?" You ask.

Two seconds later, she's giggling with a guy leading her up the stairs. You sigh, turning to go get some fresh air when there he stands. Lip Gallagher. Your freshly appointed ex-boyfriend. Or Lippy, as Lauren refers to him.

You and Lip had dated for two years, but you'd known him since you were kids. Your relationship was perfect, until one night. When he called you clingy, a bitch - this was of course after not talking to you for almost a whole week. You told him that night you were done with him. That he could call when he figured himself out.

He didn't call. It'd been a month.

It doesn't feel real that time has passed that quickly, because part of you is still stuck in his bedroom. Right where he left you. A lesson well learned.

"Hi." He says, as he stares at you. You stare right back.

"Hi." You manage to get out, clearing your throat. "I have to go-"

"Wait. Can we talk, please?" He asks, walking over to you, a hand on your arm as he whispers to you. The world stops for a pause before you nod. "Fine." You agree.

You let him lead you upstairs into an empty room, taking it in. It looks to be a guest bedroom, few decorations other then picture frames with the "welcome to our home" and flower vases on the nightstands.

"Welcome to my hell" would be a better fit.

"Why are we avoiding each other like this? You've been my best friend since I was fucking ten years old, I don't want us to lose each other like this." He says as you sit on the edge of the bed, taking note of the floral bedspread. "We already lost each other, Lip. A long time ago." You point out.

"Don't do this shit, don't be all cryptic." He rolls his eyes as you stand right back up, almost giving yourself whiplash. But that's disregarded when every memory floods back to you.

"Oh my God! What the hell do you want from me, Lip, huh? You want me to just forget every single thing you said to me? Or maybe you want me to just forget how you avoided me like the damn plague for a week before you finally did call me just to blow up at me and tell me you didn't want to be with me anymore. You can't go from telling me I was your favorite person to telling me you think I'm a bitch. And I can’t even look at my favorite person anymore, so what the fuck do you expect me to do?" You burst out, turning away from him, staring out the window.

It's silent for what feels like an eternity before you feel his arms wrap around your waist from behind. "I don't want to lose you. I- I haven't been me since you left. Please." He isn't sure what he's even begging for from you, but his voice is soft enough where you feel yourself wanting to give in.

This was a bad idea, right? After all, he was your ex. But you're both mature adults, can't two people reconnect? You'd only see him as a friend this time, it wasn't like he had to be something more.

You sigh as you push his arms off, walking for the door, waiting for a moment before locking it. You turn back around to face him, walking over to him and barely grazing his lips with your own to tease him before he kisses you. His hands find themselves on your waist like how he used to put them there when he kissed you like this.

Used. It still doesn't feel real to use parts of your relationship in the past tense. How you used to kiss him, how he used to hold you, how he used to be yours.

You kick your shoes off, and he does the same.

He pushes you back onto the bed, deepening the kiss. His tongue slides into your mouth easily, one hand on your back, the other sliding up your thigh. He knows your body so well, it's almost a science to him. He knows how your body reacts to certain touches. Certain places to kiss to make you giggle. Parts of your body that if he touches them, your back arches or you naturally move closer to them.

Like right now. His hand teasing around your sex, not quite touching where you so desperately want him.

His mouth only parts from yours to begin kissing down your jaw, then onto your neck. Finding solace there, he makes a mark on your pulse point, low moans erupting from you. Hands running through disheveled curls.

His hand finally reaches your cunt, and you hear him groan at the wetness growing on your panties. He looks at you for confirmation, and you nod desperately in return, not sure what he’s planning in that genius brain of his.

He removes your shirt so he can kiss your chest. Then your bottoms, leaving you in only your bra and panties. A finger slides those panties to the side, and he lets out another groan as he slides the digit past your slick folds, and you let out a gasp in return. You give a little tug to his hair and he almost moans at it, which you make a mental note of.

He thrusts his finger out, at a torturously slow pace, all while kissing down your body. You quickly realize when he grins up at you what he wants to do. What he feels he needs to do. You give him a nod of your approval, moans still flooding out.

He stops thrusting and removes his finger, only to replace it with his tongue. Sucking and kissing your clit, sliding his tongue in you while his hands run over skin on your thighs. You bite on your hand just to muffle your moans from the still active party outside, just as his nose bumps your clit.

“Shit, Lip. I'm close- fuck..” You whine as he laps desperately at your sex, and you can feel his smirk. "Language. Let go for me, baby, please." He requests softly, rubbing tiny circles on your clit.

You don't last long after that.

He lets your climax drip down your thighs, grinning to himself as he watches, feeling some of it on his jaw. "Need to feel you, please, Lip." You beg, and he frees himself from his boxers. Giving himself a few strokes before he lines himself up with his enterance. "You ready, sweet angel?" He asks, pressing his forehead against yours and lightly trailing slobbery kisses down your cheek before connecting to your lips. You pull away only after a second, whispering a soft "yes, please" before you're kissing his jaw in anticipation.

He groans, inserting himself past your now damp folds, thrusting gently in and out. He watches as his dick is swallowed by your cunt, your walls fluttering around him like it’s a familiar friend coming back.

Truth be told, he wasn’t sure why he pushed you away. Maybe he let the negative thoughts that you were too good for him take over. Maybe it was just the Gallagher thing to do.

But he’d regret it for the rest of his life.

Your moan brings him back to reality, hands on his shoulders as he finds a new position to fuck deeper into you, and he finds himself groaning as your nails dig into his skin. You quickly learn by the way his dick twitches he enjoys that.

And he learns by the way your walls squeeze around him you like it when he hits that spot in you. The spot that makes your head feel blurry, the spot that replaces every thought with his name. The spot that makes moans come out of you, the spot that makes the familiar heat in your belly grow.

“Fuck, Lip, I’m gonna-” Your words are cut off when he hits that spot again, even with a new angle. His forehead pressed against yours, sweat connecting with sweat. “Shit angel, you were just made for me. Pretty pussy just missed me, huh?” His words slur from the pleasure clouding his senses.

Your moans and mixtures of his name are more of an answer for him. The room smelled like sex, sound of skin slapping against skin filled it. He pressed his lips against yours, swallowing your moans as he rubbed small circles on your aching clit, and he feels the familiar white heat pouring out of your cunt.

He doesn’t last long, burying his seed deep in you. Swallowing your whines and moans as he pulls out, only breaking the kiss to stare at you, both of your chests heaving as you catch your breath. Watch your eyes having a silent conversation with his.

He lays down beside you. He watches as you run a hand over your face, and he decides to wash you both up. Returning with a damp washcloth, he helps get you cleaned up and setting your clothes on the end of the bed.

“So, uhm..” He tries to think of a conversation starter, and you shake your head, holding a hand up. “We shouldn’t have done this.” You whisper, frowning as you grab your clothes, slowly redressing yourself.

“You don’t have to go. We can go back to your place or mine and we can just talk.” You don’t realize he’s begging rather than requesting. This can’t be how you and him say goodbye after seeing each other again for the first time.

"I can't do this, Lip." You point out as you fight to get your shoes on.

You’d only see him as a friend.. biggest lie you ever said.

"I love you." He says. "I was an idiot for not saying it before so I'm saying it now. I'm in love with you and I always will be."

Definetly a lie now.

˙ ✩°˖🌸 ⋆｡˚꩜

thank you for reading! please feel free to engage with this post by reblogging, commenting or sliding into my inbox to leave feedback! i appreciate all of you! if you enjoyed reading this you can definetly check out my lip gallagher masterlist here -> click me!

- mae:)