#made sure to give him red all over his design too to match the phone head deal 🙏���

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF Phone guy was wild for saying that to Michael..

[six-eyed-samurai]

SUMMARY: April Fools Day Special with the JJK Men in Alternate universes! A/N: Happy April Fools everyone WARNINGS: None

Tattoo artist! Geto Suguru who casually tells you he'll give you a free temporary tattoo for "today's promotion for pretty girls", but when you get home and peel off the bandage he's written his number there

Tattoo artist! Geto Suguru who, once you've made it official, makes you both matching couple tattoos - not necessarily a heart and your initials, but rather the logo of the cafe you guys had your first date at stylized to become the both of you

Tattoo artist! Geto Suguru whose customers ask him who the woman in his latest art selections are and it's you (he's not afraid to flex about it)

Tattoo artist! Geto Suguru who rarely had off days because that parlour was his life, but you breathed a new meaning to it and now he closes the store with the money he carefully stored over the months for a quick vacation with you

Tattoo artist! Geto Suguru who just has to look at all the photos or selfies or whatever it was that had caught your eye you constantly bombard his phone with to get inspiration for his next art. He's been called a king at what he does but you were a goddess of art itself.

***

Guitarist! Gojo Satoru who spots you in the crowd as he drums, a surprised look in your eyes and upon your once irritated face at how your best friend had dragged you here as he stuns you with his skills

Guitarist! Gojo Satoru who secretly hopes you would show up after the show for an autograph, who's over the moon when he discovers the person you're with has backstage passes, if only to meet his bandmate Geto

Guitarist! Gojo Satoru who adds in smaller writing his number to the poster you ask him to sign, and in fact gives you an autographed Polaroid of himself for free and with a sly smile while the rest of his fan girls groaned in jealousy

Guitarist! Gojo Satoru whose first date with you is to a karaoke and teaches you drums, showering you with whatever you want with his money - that premium gelato? Sure! VIP room? Why not! Nothing but the best for the true idol in his eyes.

Guitarist! Gojo Satoru who from then on always dedicates his songs to a "my pretty muse" that no one knows, except he always engages in eye contact with you

***

Piercer! Yuta Okkutsu who smoothly, kindly comforts you when you start having doubts about your piercings, assuring you it would only hurt for a moment and he'd never dare to cause suffering to such an angel

Piercer! Yuta Okkutsu who claims it's a free gift but hands you a box of heart shaped earrings with his number scribbled inside and a nervous ask out to coffee sometime

Piercer! Yuta Okkutsu who's now the reason you somehow ended up with two more piercings at the top of your ears, him hopefully suggesting you could match with him

Piercer! Yuta Okkutsu who can't stop blabbering about his beautiful girl to his other customers, leaving them forgetting about the uncomfortable stings and wondering who such a beauty would be

Piercer! Yuta Okkutsu who gifts you the engagement present in the form of custom designed earrings with both your initials in it, be decked wth your favourite colored gem

***

Graffiti artist! Inumaki Toge who, in his pining stage for you, started spaying a hell lot of red and hearts and Cupid's arrows into his artwork

Graffiti artist! Inumaki Toge who had no idea you were a fan of his work...and was extremely flustered to find out you discovered his not so secret crush on you when you saw the love song quotes spray painted under a painting of someone who looked suspiciously too similar to you

Graffiti artist! Inumaki Toge who helps you sneak out of your bedroom at night after throwing pebbles at your window and both of you run off on skateboards to colour the streets the same bright shades of your teenage love

Graffiti artist! Inumaki Toge who wasn't good at apologising after fights or misunderstandings, so he borrowed others' words to quote and paint somewhere he knew you'd see, with a bouquet of wildflowers left there if you did happen to actually see it in the flesh

Graffiti artist! Inumaki Toge whose biggest artwork was not the bridge he had covered with slogans last month but in fact, the gigantic canvas of you and him racing into the night with streaks of spray paint exploding behind you

***

Ghost Hunter! Yuuji Itadori, the self acclaimed "Myth Buster", who went around to various most haunted places in his hometown to explore and prove that in fact, ghosts DO NOT EXIST, which he kept trying to convince you, his skeptical one-man camera crew, of, although your ongoing bet was that if he could you'd give him a kiss

Ghost Hunter! Yuuji Itadori who was often requested to do rituals or demon summons to provide evidence for his theories that "ghosts" were just people's imaginations being sparked up by even the most mundane of things by fear, but one of the reasons he really refused was because he didn't want anyone else butting on you and his time - besides, ain't no way was he using you as a sacrifice

Ghost Hunter! Yuuji Itadori who finally works up the courage to confess that he wanted to take this friendship to higher levels ironically on Halloween...even more ironically after he grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the haunted house screaming.

Ghost Hunter! Yuuji Itadori who declared himself your lucky charm against the supernatural and promises that he'll protect you from whatever came from beyond the grave (he didn't believe it ghosts but sure did in protecting you) and used the excuse to stay over at your house at night

Ghost Hunter! Yuuji Itadori who tells you in the spookiest way possible to meet him at the latest haunted expedition, but when you get there it's all set up with fairy lights, a movie and a picnic to celebrate your one year anniversary as a couple

[gamblersdoll]

PUT MY NAME ON IT, NOW IT DESIGNER..5

cw: leading to angst, talks of intimacy.

“cmon ma, dont be that way.” he said, folding his arms and pouted for a quick second. ���red is your color!”

“i know, its just dont feel like dressing fancy today, kin.” you said, folding your own arms. it was just his club, so no true reason to get all dolled up. he chuckled, putting his hands on your hips and kissing your head.

“coulda just said that, babydoll. you wanna be comfy then dress comfy, you still sexy as shit.” he said, rubbing your waist and hips. “you havent talked to that little boy recently huh?”

“nope, hes mad about me kickin him out for causing a scene.” you said, throwing on one of his shirts, obviously too big on you.

“does he know i blew bubbles on your pussy after he left?” he asked in your ear, taking a slight nibble. you shook your head no, clit almost throbbing from the recollection of your intimacy. “can smell your pretty pussy drippin’..”

“kinji!” you squealed, getting out of his grip and giggling. “we have to go!” you chuckled, fixing your sweats.

days at his club were somewhat fun and quiet. yeah sure, he would watch a boxing match or look over the scenery of his club, but they had noise canceling walls. you found that out when he had you bent over the couch and plowing into you and no one heard a thing- nor saw it.

and what hakari would do is always have a hand on your hip, kissing up and down your neck as he sat next to you and watch the fight, always but some winning bets he placed. however the room was cool, hakari hated being cold so he wore the thickest jacket so itd give him added on fever. but you hated heat, didnt mix well with it, so he has the AC on sixty nine for you.

“so whered your lil boytoy run off to?” he said, taking a swig at his drink. you shrugged then dropped your shoulders, not hearing from him since that very day, almost four days ago. “oh well.” watching his bet win the fight, winning the bet of at least twenty grand.

you would call it a good day without having to deal with sinji and just at peace. but things were always short lived.

New message!

“come home. we need to talk.”

and talks with sinji were never good. always a shouting match, so you mentally braced yourself. upon opening the door, there was sinji. just sitting, like he always did. hopefully when he did die they would lay him on his stomach to give his ass a break.

hakari helped himself to your home, he was obviously welcomed.

“i dont see why you brought… him.” sinji said, almost disgusted that you brought hakari. “and you cant even kiss me now?”

“not after last time, what you want?” you asked folding your arms. you were already inpatient, wanting this over with and tapping your foot.

“you know how we have that joint account, right?” you raised an eyebrow, along with hakari. hakari knew you dont share accounts, so why now? obviously this punk ass obviously made you do it, which made his blood boil.

“yeah? the one you made us get even though i didnt want to.” you said snarky. you saw sinji’s jaw clench, but it was short lived and pressed about it. “what about it?”

“you either spent twenty grand or someone has your information. and you can check my account too, i dont have anything.” he said, handing you his phone. you checked yours, him being correct and seeing that your saving of twenty grand had been taken out.

you felt your heart drop, pacing back and forth with phone in hand and borderline panicking. hakari tried to console you, yet to no avail.

“i would suggest checking that.. gamblers phone.” sinji said, pointing at him and then looking at you then him. “he should be the first person you ask, since it isnt his first rodeo.”

had hakari been one on one with sinji, if looks could kill, if he could strangle sinji to death, he would. because who the fuck was he accusing?

one thing hakari noticed was when you were frantic, panicking or just not even okay, you were easy to talk into things. a flaw you had, that unfortunately sinji took advantage of. the difference between them? hakari knew how to calm you. a nice bath, hed treat you to whatever sweet shit you wanted, made- no, demanded you to feel like a princess and order him what to do, would talk to you so sweetly and be at your leisure. as for sinji, hed coerce you to do things that can fuck anything up, and hakari could see that shit from next year.

“check his phone, girl.” sinji said, and then hakari rolled his eyes and handed you his phone. you reluctantly took it, knowingly that he couldnt have taken it, he was with you the whole time! and he was getting better… right? he did.

“passcode is yer’ birthday, mama.” he said, taking a swig at his water. he should be drinking a beer, because itll ease him up after beating this bitch of a boy to even think that he had even done it.

you had been wrong, you thought he had grown up. that feeling of when you are shaking because you dont know what youll find, and when you find exactly what you hope not to, your heart sinks. you feel clammy, you feel so sick, trust and honor being so broken because you had such high hopes for him. and hakari had caught on, knowing that look. hakari rushed over, snatching his phone and gawking at it, face scrunched up and dumbfounded.

“… you stole twenty fucking grand from me, kinji?”

[littledrummeraussie]

someone who feels like home.

masterlist. | want to be added to my taglist?

warnings: actress!fem!reader. nonfamous!Ashton. a premier. a photobooth. kisses shared. a love confession.

word count: 4550

author’s note: This was written as part of the @5sos-writing-week - I really wanted to participate and be a part of something! Originally this was meant to be posted on the first day’s non!famous au, but it ended on a love confession note, so we are going with that! ❤️ I don’t think this is my best piece, but I love the characters and the story, and I did enjoy writing this a lot.

Feedback and reblogs are appreciated!

- - - - -

“Hey, car will be here in ten,” Ashton’s head popped into the room, eyes going wide as he finally registered you. “Wow, look at you!”

You let out a little giggle at his reaction, but otherwise stayed in one place as your stylist did the finishing touches on your dress. Ashton slipped into the room, still not being able to take his eyes off of you, and you hoped he didn’t catch you biting your lip as you watched him too.

“Well, you clean up nicely too,” you made a cheeky comment, and he laughed, rubbing at the back of his neck. And he did – the fitted black pants, the matching vest and the slick tie paired with a white dress shirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows gave him a well-dressed, but still casual look, something you knew everyone would notice at the premier. Your eyes lingered on the blood moon tattoos inked into his skin, the rings on his fingers, the chain clipped into his belt loop, and you felt your heart skip a beat knowing that he was your date – even if just for tonight.

“Who did you bribe to let you wear this dress?” he cocked an eyebrow, looking you up and down to take it all in.

“Versace. They were begging me to wear it,” you joked, making Ashton smile as well. “Do we have time to take pictures?”

“Even if we didn’t I would still do it, because you, my beautiful, need to be documented in this dress,” he reached for the camera on the coffee table, quickly checking the settings before nodding at you. “Alright, do your worst, Y/L/N.”

You made sure to stick your tongue out at him as you struck a pose, the both of you giggling like kids as he started taking pictures of you, going from silly to smiley then serious, showing off your long red dress, the shoulders falling off and over your arms, the slit in the skirt giving a nice view at your legs and the white heels you were wearing. It felt like a bold choice, but you fell in love with the colour and the design, and you secretly liked how it made you look something like a princess, even if you would never tell that to Ashton; he would never let you live that down.

“Okay, now a selfie,” he reached for his phone, stepping next to you to fit both of you into the frame. “The first of the many mandatory ones from tonight.”

“You’re lucky you’re taking really good pictures,” you poked him playfully before letting him slide his arm around you, pulling you close. “At least I have good use of you, other than being my arm candy for the night.”

“You’re hurting my feelings,” Ashton pouted at you, but there was a twinkle in his eyes. “I’m your one-man cheer team, and you’re using me only for my good looks.”

“And to scare away creepy guys, don’t forget that,” you winked at him, a slight flirt lacing your voice. Ash scoffed at you with another little laugh, already trying to come up with another comment when your PA knocked on the door, letting you know that the car had arrived and it was waiting for you.

“Shall we, my lady?” he offered his arm to you, and you accepted it gratefully, all the while trying to will the butterflies in your stomach to calm down.

“It would be my pleasure, kind sir.”

.

The car ride to the premier was a good 20 minutes, during which time Ashton and your PA talked your ears off with the craziest of ideas on how to approach the elephant in the room in case people started to point it out. The metaphorical elephant, who was currently sitting right next to you, making up funny scenarios of his own being.

Because really: who was Ashton to you?

You often wondered and asked the question from yourself. The answer changed from time to time: a photographer. Someone from your management. An annoying little shit. A second PA. A friend who’s been there for you from day one. All those things were true, and yet, none of them sounded as real as the truth: because Ashton was your best friend, whom you had a crush on.

It wasn’t something you felt the first time you met him; no, it was something recent, something you realized one night when he was sitting next to you on the couch just after wrapping your latest movie, talking about his newest musical obsession. What started out as a work relationship turned into so much more: and while he was still part of your team you quickly became close friends – it was hard to remember a time when Ashton wasn’t part of your life. That’s why it wasn’t even a question for you to invite him as your plus one to the premier of the movie you previously worked on. He’s been there every step of the way, and you wanted to show him how much you appreciate his efforts and friendship after everything you’ve been through while filming Fade Into The Ocean.

“Hey, Y/N, are you with me?”

“Sure, yeah! Sorry,” you quickly shook your head, smiling back at Ashton. “Just lost in thoughts, that’s all.”

“Are you nervous about the premier?” he reached for your hand, squeezing it gently, and you wanted to melt into him, tell him all the things running through your mind, all the feelings you’ve been trying to put into words in the last few months. “You know you don’t have to be. People are really excited about the movie. They’re gonna love it!”

“I’m more scared about you stealing the spotlight from me,” you tried to sound flirty, and maybe you did succeed a little, because Ashton scoffed softly, squeezing your hand again.

“Sounds impossible.”

You knew you were close when you started seeing people everywhere on the streets, many looking after your car, trying to see who was arriving. Your PA started to do the necessary rounds once the car was parked, all the while you got out of the backseat with Ashton’s help. Before you knew it he was already checking your dress for wrinkles, making sure no hair was out of place and that your makeup was not smudged.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” you caught his hand to stop him fussing over you. “You’re my date tonight, remember?”

“And as your date I want only the best for you,” Ashton ran his fingers over a lock of hair, still smiling at you. “And for people to look at the real star of this show, not silly little me.”

“Well, I like looking at you,” you reached for his tie, fixing it so it wasn’t crooked. “And I’m grateful you came along with me. You don’t know how much that means after…” your voice turned quiet.

Ashton didn’t say anything, he simply pulled you against his chest, hugging you as much as he could. For a moment it felt like there was only the two of you, that you could breathe easier; that if you were able to somehow keep Ashton in your life then nothing could go wrong.

The moment was interrupted by your PA, who let you know that everything was ready for your big entrance. Ashton took another second to let you go, but not before pressing a soft kiss on your forehead, whispering encouragements and a promise that he’ll be by your side all through the night. You nodded, accepting the arm he offered to you once again, then the both of you made your way towards the red carpet, joining the people waiting for the premier.

For a while you forgot about everything – it was just you and the people you worked with on the movie, the photographers and the reporters, and the many fans, all of them wanting to catch a glimpse at their favourites. Ashton stepped back to let you have your moment, falling behind as you were photographed, and you needed to fight the urge to turn back to him. You smiled as you posed with your co-star, yet you wished you could have Ashton right back next to you; there was something different in the way you felt when he was pressed against your side just a few minutes ago, leading you out onto the red carpet and appearing as your date for the night. He was flashing a flirty smile towards the people around you, and you could see them swooning at his charm.

Someone asked if your date could join for another round of pictures, and this finally gave you the chance to look his way, his eyes sparkling as he followed you with his gaze. You beckoned him closer, reaching for him with your hand until he laced your fingers together, then sliding his arm around your waist, pulling you back against his side. You shared smiles and a few laughs as you posed for pictures, and in that moment you knew that you wanted all of this to be real; it wasn’t a public relationship for everyone to see, no. More than anything, you wanted to feel the happiness and the calmness that Ashton made you feel whenever he was around.

“Everything’s okay?” he tilted his head to the side, murmuring his question against your ear, raising an eyebrow when you looked up at him.

You laughed and nodded, like he was telling you a joke or a sneaky comment, and he squeezed your waist in return, letting you know that he was there, he was listening, if you needed him, he could take care of you, no matter what it was.

The two of you made your way down the carpet, finally arriving to the last of the reporters before you could go further into the theatre. That’s when you spotted it, a photobooth tucked into one corner of the hall, the promotional pictures of your movie decorating the outside. It wasn’t a coincidence: you did shoot some of the key scenes of the film in photobooths as they moved the story forward. Suddenly you felt like a little kid, tugging on Ashton’s hand to get his attention. A smile immediately took over his face when he saw it too.

“We gotta get our picture taken!” he was already leading you towards the booth. “It’s tradition!”

“Another addition to the collection,” you giggled, more excited about the photos than the premier itself.

“This one will be extra special,” Ashton smiled as he pulled back the curtain, quickly settling down on the bench and patting his knee. “Come on, guess that’s the only way we can fit in!”

It was something that started years ago, a silly little thing you did one afternoon while walking around Vancouver during a break in filming your first major role. You’ve always wanted to try how these machines worked, having seen them in so many films before, but unfortunately you had none in the small town you grew up in. Having a photo strip from one of those booths was something your younger self would have been so excited about, and older you definitely wanted to let her live the dream. You thought Ashton might find you crazy for this, but the moment you told him about it he grabbed your hand and even paid for the first round – the two of you had so much fun that you ended up taking a lot of photos that day.

After that it sorta became a tradition: whenever the two of you found a booth you squeezed into the tiny space to get another photo strip to your collection. You always made sure to get two copies so you could both hold onto the memories you had together.

You settled into Ashton’s lap, arms hugging his neck while the curtain fell back, hiding the two of you in the tiny space of the booth. Ashton pressed the button when you were ready, and the numbers started to go into a countdown before taking the first picture.

3… 2… 1…

The both of you smiled at the camera, a laugh tugging at the corner of your mouths, and you remembered the very first time you knew that you found a lifelong friend in him. You were meant to go on an audition after a quick meeting with him – he wanted to talk about a few things before sending you on your way with a cup of coffee he bought especially for you, and which he somehow poured all over your shirt. After the initial shock he started to apologize, only to find you laughing about the situation, trying to brush away the tears and catch your breath looking at his face. Ashton did go out and bought you a new shirt so you could go to your audition, and the next day he showed up at your door, your stained shirt washed and folded in his hands. Deep down you knew that finally you had  someone in your corner – someone who would do anything to make sure you were alright.

CLICK!

Ashton threw his hand up in a rock sign, sticking his tongue out at the camera, and you quickly copied him, feeling silly and so happy in your fancy dress, acting wild and free. It reminded you of all the times he dragged you into some kind of adventure in the strange cities you were working in, all the shenanigans the two of you did on your free days or while you were travelling. Without Ashton you wouldn’t have tried out half of the restaurants that were now your favourites. Without him you would have missed out on art exhibits and carnival rides and concerts of local bands.

You wouldn’t have gotten your first tattoo if it weren’t for Ashton and a bet of who could possibly fit more marshmallows into their mouths. He won; and he did choose a really pretty design for you, something to remember your trip to Japan where all of this happened. The single cherry blossom flower was definitely your favourite.

CLICK!

His eyes were searching you, smile softening as he looked at you, and you felt yourself smiling back at him. There was something familiar in that moment: you felt safe and calm with him there, a feeling that’s been your companion ever since that night a year ago. Suddenly you were back in the small apartment the two of you shared while filming Fade Into The Ocean, your eyes red as tears were streaming down your face, curling up in his lap on the floor as you cried all through the night, the breakup with your boyfriend which happened via phone making you feel like your heart was broken into tiny little pieces.

But Ashton was there, making sure you drank water and let it all out, soothingly stroking your back to help you calm down. You were scared to go out the next day, thinking that the public will just know how you broke down the night before, like it was written all over your face – instead Ashton reminded you that it was just another day, every day it will be a little easier and you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself; you didn’t do anything wrong. He made sure you looked after yourself while working on your movie and dealing with your breakup, and every night you went to bed with a lighter heart, knowing that it wasn’t the end of the world. Not if you had Ashton to help you to come out on top.

CLICK!

Maybe you shouldn’t have done it, but you couldn’t help yourself. Ashton never looked more beautiful than in that moment. And it wasn’t just his looks, no; it was him, the way he was there for you all through these years, how he put you first more times than you could count, how he picked you up and put you back together when you felt at your lowest. He was adventure and silent afternoons in a park, he was coffee dates and silly selfies and reading lines together at midnight. He was the best part of your team, but also your partner in crime, your best friend and the man you fell in love with through the years.

You always wanted someone who felt like home in this crazy and strange life you had – and as you were sitting there in his lap, looking at each other before the last picture was taken, you realized that nobody ever came close to being the person that Ashton was for you. In that moment you knew that you don’t want anyone else in this world, just him, only him. Because Ashton always felt like home to you.

His breath hitched as your lips pressed against his, but it didn’t even take a heartbeat for him to kiss you back, his arms around your waist tightening to hold you close to him. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, like you were scared you would float away if you let go of him. You felt the tip of his tongue on your bottom lip–

CLICK!

The two of you pulled apart like teenagers who got caught, and you felt your cheeks heating up when you realized what just happened. Ashton looked surprised, lips parted as he looked at you almost unblinking, but you saw how his eyes darkened after your kiss. You were saved by a sound that meant that your photos were printed, and you quickly grabbed them, shoving them into your bag as you stood up, pulling back the curtain.

“I– think we should go. Movie is about to start.”

“Yeah… yeah, of course,” Ashton quickly shook his head, following you out of the booth and back into the sea of people, acting like you didn’t just share a moment that might change everything from now on.

.

ETNews tweeted: @YourName looks stunning at the premier of her new movie ‘Fade Into The Ocean’ joined by best friend as her date. Read more at the link.

 You pushed your phone away, leaning back against the headboard of your bed. It was really late at night, or maybe really early in the morning, you couldn’t decide. The premier was long, and the afterparty even longer, full of impromptu speeches and a few more last minute interviews, everyone praising the movie. And yet, if you wanted to be honest with yourself, you couldn’t care less – because all you really cared about was the man who had already turned in for the night in the room next to yours.

All you could think about was Ashton and his arm around your waist on the red carpet, his words that kept you grounded, the press of his lips against yours as you kissed in the photobooth, hidden from prying eyes, and the way he held your hand all through the movie. He kept his promise and was by your side all through the night, but after what happened in the booth he turned a little quiet, and when his door closed after you arrived back to the hotel, you were sure you had screwed it all up. This was the moment when you needed him the most, to make sense of everything, to let you know if you crossed a line. But he only wished you goodnight before disappearing.

Now you were left alone with adrenaline rushing through your veins after the premier, and with your feelings which made it hard to sleep. Your beautiful red dress was laid out on the bed next to you, and you softly ran your fingers over the material. Something came over you, you weren’t sure what, but you reached for your bag and fished out the photo strips from the booth. Your eyes scanned the pictures, the smiles and silly faces, the laughter and the loving look you gave each other, and lastly, the kiss. There was no question in you that in that very moment, even if for just one second, he wanted it too.

You laid one of the pictures over your dress, picking up a few small gifts you got as part of the promotion, then snapped a picture of the ensemble. You made sure to not include the very last photo in it – sure, it was a post for your social media, but at the same time, something much more. You knew it could be a bold move, you knew Ashton will know what you have left out of your post, and deep down you hoped it would help the two of you start talking about what happened back there.

 yourname shared a post: What a wonderful night at the ‘Fade Into The Ocean’ premier! Thank you to everyone who came out to celebrate with us! Check out the movie if you can!

Special shout out to my best partner in crime @ashtonirwin for being my fun date tonight!

 Before you could chicken out you posted the picture, quickly disconnecting from the internet so you didn’t check if Ashton reacted to it or not. You were sure he was already asleep, it’s been more than an hour since you have parted ways in the hallway. Yet still, you were hoping that he understood what you really meant with your post.

You didn’t want to believe it first, but there was a soft knock a few minutes later. You picked up your robe as you crossed the suite, putting it on before opening the door – and there he was. Ashton was standing in front of you, wearing his black sweatpants, something he always wore as PJs. His hair was a mess of unruly curls, tan skin and the ink of his tattoos illuminated in the lamplight of the hallway and your room.

“Hey, uhm… can I come in?” he rubbed the back of his neck, a pink tint colouring his cheeks.

“Always,” you nodded, taking a step back to let him into the room. “Cannot sleep either?”

“No, not really,” Ashton chuckled, following you. “I just wanted to ask you something.”

“What’s that?”

“Can I maybe get my pictures? I think you grabbed both of them.”

“Of course, just… let me get them,” you nodded towards your bedroom, already turning around.

It kinda felt like defeat – like he’s gonna look at them and decide that the first three were fine, but maybe you should both forget about the last one and what it meant. Ashton didn’t seem like he wanted to talk about it, and suddenly you wished he would leave so you could feel pity for yourself. But before you could take a step you felt his hand reaching for yours, grabbing your wrist and tugging you back a little.

“And maybe another goodnight kiss as well?” he cocked an eyebrow at you while softly biting his bottom lip.

Suddenly you needed to laugh, the sound bubbling up from your chest, and you could see Ashton’s smile as well as he pulled you back and against his chest, hands cradling your cheeks as he pressed his lips against yours, kissing you deeply. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pushing up on your tiptoes as you kissed him back, and while you felt dizzy from the way his lips moved against yours, you also felt that calm, safe feeling settling in your heart, the one you always associated with Ashton. This is what home felt like. Being with him.

“Did you really think I’m not gonna bring this up?” he playfully nipped your lip when you finally pulled back, your cheeks heated from his question.

“I thought I went too far,” you whispered, fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. “We didn’t say much after it happened. I mean… I know I kinda ran away, but…”

“I understand. We were at the premier and that wasn’t the time and place where we could talk about this,” he pushed a lock of hair behind your ear, still looking lovingly at you. “But don’t think for a second that I didn’t want to kiss you breathless all through the night. I just needed to, you know, keep myself in check. And I also thought you might have regretted it, and… I’m not sure I could have been able to take that. Not after feeling so much for you all through these years.”

“How long exactly?” you questioned him, and Ashton let out an embarrassed chuckle, knocking his forehead against yours, eyes shining and looking into your eyes.

“Maybe from the moment I met you. But definitely since I’ve poured coffee all over you and you just didn’t give a damn about it. It was so easy to fall in love with you. Cause you know: you were my best friend.”

“You stayed with me all through these years, even though I was seeing other people. Even though I was kissing guys on camera. Even though I only recently realized what you really mean to me,” you cupped Ashton’s jaw, rubbing your thumb over his cheek.

“Took you long enough,” he chuckled again, making you giggle as well. “But it didn’t matter. I was lucky enough to spend most of my time with you, and if that would have been the only thing I got in the end, I still would have taken it, without a question.”

“I don’t want you to feel like that ever again,” you pressed small kisses onto his lips, mumbling words and confessions as he held you close. “Because I’m the lucky one, having a best friend like you. Someone who took care of me and who’s still doing it every day. Someone who’s just an absolutely wonderful human being, and there is really no one who compares to you, Ash. Gosh, I love you so much, and I’ve been trying to push away these feelings because I thought I’m gonna ruin us, but it was just so hard because all through these years you really just felt like–”

“Home?” Ashton finished for you, and you nodded, lost for words. “That’s what you’re making me feel too.”

“Wherever we went, you were always the person I looked for when I felt homesick or alone. You just make everything feel… okay. I would happily lose everything else as long as I have you.”

“Don’t go that far. I do love you being the wonderful actress that you are. I’m happy to cheer you on from the sideline,” Ashton kissed your forehead. “As long as I have you.”

“I think we have a lot to talk about,” you mumbled against his chest as you burrowed closer to him, and you felt him nodding above you. “And I don’t think I could fall asleep now.”

“So how about you give me my pictures and we climb into bed? I could kiss you some more while we figure this all out. And if we do fall asleep, well… we can continue tomorrow. And maybe find another photobooth to make some new memories. I would love to recreate the last picture of us. Many, many times.”

“I’ll make sure to kiss you again. And again. And again.”

- - - - -

@mymindwide @fuckyeah5sostakemehome @suchalonelysunflower @talkfastromance4 @ashtonsunflower @in-superbloom @wiiildflowerrr @lovelywordsblog @heyitskelseaj @cthheaven @sofsversion @justreblogginfics @whentherosesbl00m @indianamgc11

[imaginationofomi]

Come Together

Twelve

Nayeli could taste her freedom. The end of the week finally arrived, and her only plans were to bury herself in her bed or couch with a mug of hot spiced cider and her weighted blanket. Rest was necessary because the following weekend was the Harvest Festival. Three days of excellent food, good music, a carnival, and several cook offs.

She was most excited for the burgers and fries, hopes high for a repeat of the black garlic and fontina cheese option. She had to pick up a jar of homemade pickles for sure as well. Just after 3 o'clock, Grace was closing the store when Nayeli walked to the front.

"I'm out of here. Do you need anything before I go?" she asked as Grace swept the floor.

"Details."

"About what?"

"You and EJ, duh. Excuse me. Ezra," Grace smirked.

"I have no details to give."

"You were locked in the office together for over an hour last week and no deets? If you don't trust me, say that."

"We had a private conversation. I'm not giving you details on it because it's not my business to share," Nayeli said, removing her phone and keys from her purse.

"Private conversation, hm?"

"Bye, Grace. Have a good weekend." As she walked around the service counter and through the kitchen to the back door that opened up to the parking lot, her phone began to vibrate, "Were your ears ringing?" she answered Ezra with a smile, stepping out into the cool afternoon air.

"Why, were you talking about me?"

"Maybe." She unlocked her car and got in, locking the doors, stepping on the brake and tapping the start button, "How are you?" she asked when her phone connected to the bluetooth and set it in the cup holder.

"Alone. My parents took Tati for the weekend."

She laughed at his non-answer and backed out of her designated spot, "You outside until further notice?"

"No, but I want to see you," he said, his tone making butterflies erupt in her belly. They hadn't been around each other for a little over a week, busy lives keeping their schedules from matching up. She wanted to see him, too, but she wanted to be comfortable and relaxed while doing so.

"I'm leaving the bakery now, and my couch is calling my name. If you're cool with takeout, you can come over."

"Uuuhhh....yeah, we can do that."

"Did you have something else in mind?" she asked due to his hesitation.

"I made a dinner reservation, but if you're feening for the couch, you must be tired. It's okay. I'll cancel it."

"Oh no! Don't cancel! I can make a cup of coffee or take a quick nap or something. You went through all the trouble. We should go." All of the local hotspots were damn near impossible to get into on Friday, Saturday and Sunday unless someone had a connection. With it getting closer to the Harvest Festival, the uptick in tourism made it even worse.

"Don't worry about it. I'd rather just spend time with you anyway. What do you want to eat?"

She was thankful that they weren't on FaceTime and he couldn't see her blushing, "Hawaiian barbecue. I have been craving short ribs and macaroni salad all week," she said.

"That sounds good. Is there a specific place you want it from?"

"Ono on Mission Avenue is the best out here."

"Mission Avenue? Do you know what the traffic looks like right now? Red. Be happy you fine."

Cackling, she turned a corner and got in her left lane, "Thank youuuuuu, and since you're picking up dinner, I got dessert. Any special requests? We can get fancy and make ice cream."

"Ice cream sandwiches?"

"Oh, you're real fancy. Okay, we can make ice cream sandwiches."

They talked for a while longer, planning out a movie schedule and where they would get brunch after he went to church with her the next morning before she hung up to grab some last minute things they would need from the store.

As soon as she was home, she showered to wash the day off of her, let her hair down to be wild and free, and changed into a big t-shirt and a pair of Nike Pro biker shorts. Making her way into the garden, she picked several lemons off of her tree and took them back to the kitchen.

Some of her vegetables needed a little pruning, all of which she would do before watering the following afternoon. She'd be able to harvest soon, and she couldn't wait to get her homegrown veggies in her kitchen, pesticide and hormone free. Ezra text her that he was a few minutes away while she was pureeing raspberries and straining the seeds for the lemonade, and she let him know that she would leave the door unlocked for him.

However, in just a few minutes, she forgot and freaked out when she heard it creak open.

"Nayeli, it's me!" Ezra's voice calmed her, and she slid her serrated butcher knife back into the holder.

"I'm in the kitchen!" she yelled back, pouring fresh squeezed lemon juice over the raspberry puree giving it a good mix before she added sugar and water to the pitcher. The aroma of her short ribs made her mouth water, and she flipped around just as Ezra set their plastic bag on the counter, "That smells amazing, and I'm starving. How was the drive?"

"Like I said, be happy you fine. Downtown is crowded as fuck."

"Sorry." She really was, but only a little, and she already had a way to make up for it.

"Mhm." He embraced her, running his fingers through her curls and down the side of her neck. The antsy feeling that had been plaguing him all week finally subsided. He thanked God she was free and willing to spend time with him despite being tired. Resting his lips on her hair, he hugged her tighter.

"At least you have fresh raspberry lemonade," she said, rubbing the soft material of his olive zip up and leaning her body into his, "Did you have a good week?"

"Yeah. I met with a real estate agent to look at a couple of spots near the beach."

"You want to move?"

"No, for the store. I can't keep working out of the house. I feel like there's no separation, and I don't like that. Home is home. I don't want to deal with work when I'm at home.

"I can understand that. There are some good commercial properties on Docker." Nayeli started pulling their food out of the bag, undoing the rubber bands wrapped around the napkin covered forks and spoons and rinsing the plastic off.

"That was the last street we looked on. I like the spot on the corner across from the custom furniture place, but it's kinda small."

"Is there room to expand?"

"If I buy out the people next door and break the wall. It's an option. I'm gonna look again next week to see if I can find something better."

"My friend, April, is in commercial real estate. I can ask if she knows of anything good or to put out some feelers for you. Just let me know where you're looking and what you're looking for," she told him.

"Thank you. Time to Netflix and chill?" he asked, scooping her up from the ground after she picked up the containers. She screeched in surprise and tried not to drop their food.

"Do the kids still say that? Either way, there will be no chilling, sir. We are enjoying a meal in the dining room and a movie. Now put me down, please. I still have to pour the lemonade." When her feet were back on the ground, she set the containers on place mats and returned to the kitchen for two glasses of the cold beverage.

"You always eat at the table?" Ezra pulled her chair out for her, pushing it back in once she was seated.

"When other people are present, yes. It's better, in my opinion. TVs and phones are distracting, and you end up spending more time with a device than the person you're with. I can't stand it. I want to have a conversation, not scroll."

"You sound like Brandy. She's always hollering about people being on their phones too much."

"It's true! Some act like it's an extension of their hand. Unplug from the matrix, please. Hands." Nayeli held hers out and grabbed his, bowing her head and praying over their food, "Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty, through Christ our Lord. Amen."

"Amen. Do you like that movie?"

"What movie?"

"The Matrix."

"I have a love/hate relationship with it. It's my dad's favorite movie. We used to watch it together when I was a kid, but he always had to stop and rewind and tell me things like we hadn't seen the movie together a thousand times. I appreciate the story and the metaphor of Neo being Jesus and saving the world, but I get flashbacks of watching the same part eight times and I'd rather just stay away from it," she explained, biting into one of her short ribs and some white rice.

"Neo is supposed to be Jesus?"

"A representation, yeah. I thought that was obvious with him being referred to as "The One" and him having to save the world and all that, but a lot of people actually haven't made that connection. And some will argue that there are things in the movies that point to him not being the one, but none of those arguments really check out in my opinion. The man died and came back to life, and he was the only one that could destroy the matrix. Jesus tings. I'll give you another one, too. Harry Potter's a representation. A ton of movies are a bit biblical in a sense. The Chronicles of Narnia, Aslan was a representation of Jesus, died on the stone table and came back to life. Man of Steel, Superman was willing to sacrifice himself to save humanity. Hell, Star Wars even did it with Anakin and his birth supposedly being miraculous and sacrificing himself for his son to redeem himself after becoming Darth Vader. The movie Se7en with Morgan Freeman and Brad Pitt was based on the seven deadly sins. I mean, they're everywhere, like across all genres."

"You sound like a movie junkie."

"I like to be entertained, but I wouldn't call myself a junkie. Do you have a favorite?" she asked.

"Too many."

"What's at the top of your list?"

"Anything with Adam Sandler or Will Smith."

"Oh my gosh, Adam Sandler has me in stitches no matter what he's in."

"Little Nicky or The Waterboy?"

"Anger Management over both! I feel pretty, oh so pretty. I feel pretty and witty and gaaaaaay." Ezra started to laugh at her, and she followed right behind, a tear coming to her eye when Jack Nicholson's lalala's played in her head, "But if I had to choose, I'd say The Waterboy....mmmmm, no Little Nicky. Well, I guess it depends on the day."

Things were beautiful between them, easy and comfortable. Laughter continued as they ate and conversed, switching the topic from movies to sports and other things. She learned more about his work life, about the businesses he had his hands in and how he got into watch designing. She was as fascinated with him as he was with her, so the questions never stopped. Even after they finished their food and went on to make dessert.

"Can I ask you something personal?" Ezra said as she pulled out the ingredients for what looked like cookies. His cookies. Excitement rattled his bones.

"I'm slightly terrified, but yes."

"Why did you stay a virgin until you were 26? Were you waiting for marriage and gave up?"

"Damn it, Maxine," she groaned and dropped her head, "I wasn't necessarily waiting for marriage, but I was waiting for my husband. I told myself not to let a man enter my body unless I could see myself spending the rest of my life with him. The relationships I had in my teens and early twenties didn't provide me with that."

"So Jalen's the only man you've been with."

"Yes." She was uneasy discussing the topic, even had a slight twinge of shame for not having more experience at her age. She felt like she was behind the rest of the population, though that didn't bother her so much when she thought about the situations people ended up in behind the act, "Is that weird to you?"

"Not weird. Just different. I don't know too many women that can say they've only been with one man."

"We're around," she said.

"Do you still hold the same sentiment? About waiting for your husband?"

"Yes and no. I'm struggling a bit with that to be honest because I feel inexperienced, and although sex itself is self-explanatory, good sex is not. Some people are lucky and it's good with everyone they're with. Others aren't so lucky and you have to find a rhythm with the person you're with. But I don't want to experiment with random men, which puts me back at square one. I can't sleep with someone I'm just dating. I was with Jalen for close to a year before we had sex for the first time." Maybe if she waited longer, she wouldn't have been so stupid for him or he would've left and saved her time.

"You take it seriously."

"I do because it's an exchange of energy. You're sharing a piece of your soul with that person, and if they're not a good person, whether it's for you or in general, now you're carrying that energy around with you. It can be traumatic. I've seen women lose their minds behind a man, and it's not because his dick is that good. They're addicted to the energy that comes from it, and it makes them erratic when they don't have it or they know someone else is getting it along with them. It's toxic and a headache."

"Never thought about it like that."

"Most men don't. They're too concerned with getting a nut." And absolutely nothing else. Not if the woman was comfortable or enjoying herself. Nothing but ejaculation and the next notch on their belt, "Why did you ask?"

"I told you. I want to know everything about you. I can see it in your face that you feel ashamed for not being more experienced, but I don't think you should be at all. The choice you made is admirable," he said, trying and failing to catch her eyes as creamed the sugar and unsalted butter, "If Maxine hadn't said anything, would you have told me on your own?"

"Probably not."

"Why?"

"It's not information I'm breaking down doors to share. I don't think people would believe me anyway. Like you said, you don't know too many women who can say the same thing. I'd rather not be called a liar, but I also don't owe anyone an explanation about my sexual history beyond test results when the time comes."

"Fair enough. It would be kinda hard to believe."

"Are you saying I look like a slut?" she demanded and looked up, halfway glaring at him for his comment.

"No, not at all. You're beautiful and a boss. You look like you got niggas beating down your door trying to come in."

"Oh, plenty have tried. I'm just not interested because most aren't worth a damn. They're a squirrel looking for a nut, and I'm not shaking the tree for just anybody."

He chuckled and got behind her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and watching her mix the eggs and vanilla with the butter and sugar over her head, "I respect it." 

"Thank you. I can imagine you being a slut, though," she teased.

"Woooooow."

"Am I wrong?"

"Lowkey. I've had my fair share of women, but I don't fuck anything that moves."

"Good to know." Turning her head, Nayeli smiled up at him briefly and went back to mixing the dough, shutting the electric mixer off when it reached the proper consistency. She lifted the top and pulled out the flat beater to swipe off some of the dough and taste it, "Mmmm. Want some?" She held the beater above her shoulder, watching with hazy eyes as his lips wrapped around a part of the metal. The temperature in the room went up several degrees, and she didn't have an easy escape route with him still behind her.

"It's good."

"Right? Could you grab the baking sheet out of that cabinet for me, please?" she asked and pointed to the correct door, fleeing to the drawer that held her aluminum foil and parchment paper when she had the space. He set it on top of the stove, and she went on a hunt for her large cookie scoop and the chopper for the hazelnuts, "Thank you." Once the treats were on the paper and the oven was done preheating, she popped them in and grabbed what she needed to make their ice cream. She could feel that she was being watched the entire time, and when she finally gathered herself enough to look at him, Ezra was smiling at her, "Was it that good?"

There was so much that he wanted to say but couldn't. The more he talked to her, the deeper he fell, "I'm really feeling you, Nayeli."

"Whaaaaaat? I had no idea! This is brand new information!" She pretended to be shocked, grinning when he rolled his eyes and wrapping her arms around him, "I like you, too, Ezra." Way more than she should. 

☼☼☼

Someone was knocking. Had been for the last five minutes. Ezra cracked an eye open. The TV was off, and they were submerged in darkness. The cable box read 11:17 p.m. Nayeli slept soundly on his chest, and while he was confused about how they ended up laid out on the couch, he wasn't going to complain. He rubbed her head, heart thumping faster when she sighed softly. One dream had finally become a reality.

The knocking started again. He thought they would've gotten the hint when no one answered the first time. Who the hell showed up to somebody's house that late with no warning?

"Hey, someone's at the door," he said softly, trying to rouse Nayeli awake.

"Tell them to go away," she mumbled back, half asleep and too comfortable to move. He was still hoping they would without him having to say anything, but knuckles on wood interrupted them for the third time. Exhaling, he carefully slid his body out from underneath Nayeli's and covered her with a blanket, rubbing his eyes as he walked to the front door.

He twisted the deadbolt and then the nob, frowning at the idiot standing on the porch with a pathetic stuffed bear holding a heart that said I'm sorry and and a wack bouquet of flowers from a grocery store. He thought about laughing at the perfect picture of distress in front of him, but defeated eyes quickly turned to fire when they saw him.

"Where's Nayeli?" Jalen asked roughly, trying to look past Ezra into the house.

"She's sleep."

"Wake her up. I need to talk to her."

"I'm not waking her up for bullshit. She had a long week."

"Bullshit? Nigga move. I'll do it." Jalen attempted to bulldoze his way into the house without success. Ezra blocked the door and stood his ground, right fist balled up and prepared to make contact.

"Try it again, and you'll wish you hadn't," he warned. His patience was wearing thin.

"NAYELI!"

Ezra grabbed Jalen's throat and shoved him backward, pulling the door shut, both men unaware that she was awake and making her way to the front of the house.

"Bro, what the fuck is your problem? Whatever you gotta say ain't that damn important."

"Keep your hands off me."

"Get the fuck from in front of her house. If she wanted you here, you wouldn't have had to knock on the door. She's done. You need to leave her alone."

"Or what?"

"Fuck around and find out." Ezra was itching to lay a nigga out. Spars in his gym weren't enough and Jalen was asking to get his ass handed to him. He had no regard for a woman that loved him unconditionally once upon a time, screaming in her house to wake her up like what he wanted mattered after what he did to her. The audacity of him thinking he had a right to Nayeli's time made Ezra's blood boil.

"Jalen, why are you here?" Her soft voice broke their intense stand off. She stepped out onto the porch, wrapping her arms around her midsection to try to keep a little bit of her body heat as she walked up and stopped next to Ezra.

"This is what we do now? You make me wait a year for some pussy, but I haven't been gone a month and you already got this nigga in our bed?"

"Ezra, don't." She grabbed his arm before he could swing and send Jalen to the pavement bloodied with a concussion. She was annoyed, but more than anything, she wanted him to leave. She was over it and over him, "First of all, my bed. You don't live here anymore. Second, we fell asleep watching a movie, and even if I was fucking him, it doesn't have anything to do with you. If kicking you out, blocking you and every number you've tried to contact me from wasn't enough of a hint, we are done. There's no reconciliation in the future, no talking it out, not a goodbye fuck, nothing. Done, so pick up your poor attempt at an apology, get in your car, and go back to LA. You're wasting your time," she said.

"Nayeli, pl-"

"GO, Jalen!"

"No. I'm not going anywhere. I got all night."

"Then enjoy sitting outside in the cold by yourself." Turning on her heel, she walked back into the house. He tried to follow her in, and Ezra shoved him for the second time, hard enough to make him slip.

"Count your blessings and watch how you talk to her. If I catch you alone, it's ugly for you."

With the door between them, Ezra looked for Nayeli and found her pacing in her room.

"Should I call the police?" she asked.

"If he doesn't leave, yeah. Give him a minute." Humiliation would make a man do one of two things; leave or act a fool. If the latter happened, Ezra didn't have an issue performing a citizen's arrest. It'd give him a good excuse to provide Jalen with a right hook.

"I cannot believe this is my life right now."

"That's what happens when a man realizes he lost the best thing that ever happened to him."

"I'm sorry for dragging you into this."

"You didn't drag me into anything. If I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be." And if he ever lost her, he would fight just as hard, if not harder, to get her back. Women like Nayeli were one in a million, so come hell or high water, no one would keep them apart.

[j-graysonlibrary]

Heartbeats; Paradise Chapter 9

Title: Heartbeats; Paradise

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 112K

Genres: Psychological thriller, drama, sci-fi, LGBT+

Available on: Kobo and my website

Synopsis: Melvin Hardy and Kade Axel appear to be a match made in heaven. After a meet-cute in the rain, the two quickly find themselves in a burgeoning, wholesome relationship.

Yet, things feel…off. It isn’t the ghosts of their pasts that resurface to test the strength of their partnership—no—it’s something nebulous. Something indescribable. Melvin can’t put his finger on it but, the more time he spends with Kade, the more he starts to wonder what’s real and what’s pure fiction. 

Full chapter 9 under the cut:

Chapter Nine:

I follow the directions my phone gives me to some ritzy apartment complex in a part of town that I usually ignore. None of Kade and I’s dates have ever taken us remotely near this area and I wonder who he knows here. There is no name on the note so I’m going in blind.

Perhaps an old friend, I assume, and someone Nate doesn’t know about. Or, my heart warns, an ex that Kade hasn’t felt comfortable enough to tell me about.

It would be a perfect revenge for what I did.

It makes sense.

I still hope that’s not the case even if my gut screams that it’s probably true.

I swallow down my fears and my pride, knowing that when I see Kade I need to be kind and apologetic. Though I can only hope that I say what I mean to say instead on instigating things further. I feel I have a little more control over myself, at least, and I practice what I’ll say when I see him.

‘Kade, I’m so sorry about what I said. I didn’t mean any of it and you were right. I absolutely should have told you about Gladis. You have every right to be mad. What can I do to make it up to you?’

It’s a little wordy but I think it covers everything. And, if it doesn’t work, I’ll throw myself at his feet and beg if I have to.

The apartment complex is even fancier on the inside and my thoughts are stolen by the majesty of the interior design. Large paintings, marble sculptures, and gold trim are everywhere and the floors are so clean that they’re reflective. The walls too—I keep getting startled by my own reflection as I pass through.

I reach the elevator and, based on the apartment number, I push the number five on the panel. I don’t run into any other people and the halls are quiet, unnerving me in a way I find hard to describe. It’s almost as if I’m somewhere I’m not supposed to be.

My palms begin to sweat as I approach the correct door and I repeat my script in my mind again, just to be sure I have it down.

The door is black with gold lining, like all the others I’ve passed, and I freeze in front of it. Underneath the number, there is a name plaque and I read over it several times as I’m sure I must be reading it incorrectly.

It doesn’t make any sense.

O. Friar.

My heart thunders but now it’s got less to do with nerves and more to do with a vicious rage I had, somehow, forgotten about. Friar is not a common last name and there aren’t many names that can start with the letter O. If it isn’t him then I will be surprised but I know that it’s him.

I know it is.

My hands clench into fists and I resist the urge to beat the door down without warning. The one thing that sticks out to me—that centers me—is the fact Bree gave me the address. She knows something I don’t and I want to see what that is and, probably, I’ll need to be calm to understand it.

I push the buzzer and I try not to swallow my tongue or be overcome by my red hot anger. I need to be able to get answers—especially if Kade really is in there with this man.

I hear footsteps on the other side of the door and then the shuffling of metal as the locks are clicked out of place. “Are you finally here for my sample? I’ve been waiting—”

The door opens and the man stops instantly as he realizes I’m not the person he thought he was talking to. I’m frozen in place as well but for a very different reason.

Oswald is a few inches taller than me, enough to leer down at me and enough for a shadow to be cast over his eyes. I can still see that they are brown, matching his wild and curly hair and his unkempt eyebrows knot together in confusion. Spotty stubble covers his face and I see a forest of hair peeking out from the top of his white T-shirt, similar to the hair on his head.

He smells strongly of alcohol and cigarettes with an after hint of general body odor. I doubt he’s had guests for a while unless they don’t mind the state of him.

But, apparently, Kade must not mind if Bree thinks he’s here.

“You’re not from the agency, are you?” Oswald asks and frowns down at me.

I shake my head and then push my way inside with surprisingly little resistance from the giant man. “KADE!” I call out and search the immediate vicinity for him.

Like Oswald himself, the living room and kitchen areas are a mess and covered with discarded clothes and empty dishes. A piano is set up in the far corner and sheet music is scattered about haphazardly. It’s hard to imagine he’s some prestigious teacher with this scene before me.

I hear the door shut and I turn to see Oswald looking at me with narrowed eyes. “Did you say…Kade? Kade…Axel?”

“Don’t play dumb,” I snap and point a finger at him, “He’s here, isn’t he?”

I continue to look, ready to intrude into his hallway and bedrooms if I have to.

“He’s not here,” the man tells me and brings my attention back to him, “I’ve never even met him.”

“What?” I say before it fully sinks in. All of my anger simmers and I drop my arms, staring at him as if he’s spoken in a foreign language.

Hasn’t met him?

How can he say that?

As if thrown into a crackling fire, my rage returns just as ferociously as when I first heard Kade tell the awful story. I grab the man’s filthy white T-shirt and I roll my fists in it, wringing the material tight in my hold. I throw him against the wall dividing the kitchen from the living room. I don’t even question the fact he doesn’t resist me. It doesn’t matter.

“You bastard! How can you say you’ve never even met him when you molested him?!”

I see nothing but red and I swear I can kill him.

I should, after all.

He hurt Kade.

He hurt the person I love more than anyone in the entire world.

He deserves to die.

All people like him deserve to die.

I’d be doing the world a favor by snuffing out his life here and now.

Yet…his blank, unbothered face sucks the fury right out of me.

I can’t stay as mad when he’s not responding.

The silence permeates the room until Oswald takes my hands and removes them. He’s incredibly strong to do so without hurting me because I’m still gripping as hard as I can. His fingers lock into mine, loosening them and pushing them away.

I’m no longer so sure I can fight him and win.

“I mean…” he sighs. “I know that I, Oswald Friar, assaulted a fourteen year old boy named Kade Axel but I don’t remember it at all.”

I don’t understand and I’m not sure I want to either. Still, I ask with a snarl, “What do you mean?”

“There’s text in my mind, telling me this.” Oswald points to his temple. “But I don’t actually remember it. I have things that I just…know. Like how your name is Melvin Hardy and you’re currently dating Kade Axel but I don’t think I was supposed to meet you yet.”

“How do you…?” I step away from him, my anger entirely replaced with bewilderment and a small dose of fright.

He shrugs. “I woke up in this apartment the other week with a few chunks of text in my head. The thing about Kade and the fact that I’m a composer who does commissions and…well, that’s about it. I don’t remember any of this myself—I couldn’t even tell you what Kade looks like. Couldn’t pick him out of a crowd but, apparently, I molested him. It doesn’t feel like something I’d do but…who am I to argue? I don’t even know who I am.”

This is scary—mostly because I’m inclined to believe him. It’s a weird lie, if it is one, and it doesn’t help him much. My stomach twists into knots and I feel the hair rise on the back of my neck.

“You…you don’t remember anything about your past? Do you have amnesia or something?”

“I can’t say for sure.” Oswald looks up at the ceiling as he says, “I don’t know anything about my childhood, what I like to do, what my beliefs are…nothing. I tried to go out into town and jog something in me but, each time I leave my building I’m compelled to go back inside. It’s only in here that I have some peace in my mind but this emptiness tortures me.”

My hands begin to shake and I hang on every one of his words.

I feel my lips tremble as I ask for clarification, “What do you mean…compelled?”

Oswald’s head snaps back down and there is life in him for a change—a spark in his eye. “Do you feel it too, Melvin?”

It’s more than a little weird to hear him say my name when I never introduced myself. But I push that aside and give a terse nod. “I think so…”

“It’s her, right?” He starts to smile at the prospect of a connection but I’m lost again.

Her? I think and then repeat it aloud, “Her?”

“It’s a female voice—I’m pretty sure.” Oswald starts to pace back and forth in front of me. “It sure as hell isn’t my voice. It’s not my thoughts. Not my actions.” He then stops and stares at me. “What is it making you do?”

I’m uncomfortable being put on the spot but I gulp and think back to just a few hours ago. I intended to say completely different things to what actually came out of my mouth. If someone besides me is experiencing this, I’d like to know about it. Mostly, what is it, exactly, and what I can do about it.

“I fought with Kade…said things I didn’t want to.” I shift my attention to the side as the memories replay in my mind. “And not in a heat of the moment fighting kind of way…I tried to say other things but the confrontational words came out instead. Is that…is that what happens to you too?”

“Well I haven’t spoken to anyone until now—to you,” Oswald admits as if the statement, alone, isn’t bizarre, “So I can’t say on that front. But I certainly can’t move on my own outside.”

I take it all in but I’m still baffled. My mind is at war with itself and I can’t decide on what I want to think—what I want to believe. I’m not sure I’ve ever had this much on my mind before. Usually, it’s one or two issues at a time and not exactly complex ones. This is a lot.

And I don’t have an answer.

Oswald doesn’t appear to have one either.

“How do you get food to eat?” I ask after a long moment of silence. Strangely, it’s one of the only things I can pick out of the mess in my brain.

“Bags have been showing up outside my door each Monday since I woke up.” Oswald gestures with his thumb to the entrance. “I don’t order it but…it’s just there.”

“I don’t get it…” I cover my mouth with my hand. The wheels are certainly spinning in my mind but nothing is coming of it.

“I don’t either.” Oswald lets out a dry laugh. “I’m working on a few theories but I can’t prove any of them. At least now I can be sure this is happening to someone besides me.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” I stop him and the glint in his eye disappears. “I haven’t heard a woman in my head so I don’t know if what’s happening with you is happening with me.”

“Oh…right.” He frowns and exhales loudly through his nose, deflated. For him, it’s probably back to square one.

I’m surprised to find myself feeling bad for him.

Whether it’s amnesia or some elaborate lie, he still hurt Kade. I have to remind myself of this. His strange circumstances don’t absolve him of his past actions.

And I still really need to find Kade.

A sharp sensation pokes the side of my head, sticking into my brain and causing me to raise my hands to my head. I grunt out in pain and hunch over.

“Melvin?!” Oswald calls out in concern.

I push my hand out to keep him away and slowly straighten myself back up. It’s not so bad any more but there is still a dull ache. “I have to go.”

“Is she in your head?” he asks, wary.

I set my jaw and shake my head. “No…I need to leave.”

I hurry out of the apartment despite Oswald yelling my name after me.

I can’t stay—he’s keeping me from getting back to Kade.

He’s a gross, awful man and I can’t stand to be in his presence any longer.

I’ll have to confront Bree about this misdirection whenever I see her again.

But she’s the last thing on my mind when I step outside and back toward my car. All I know is that I need to return home—to my apartment—where, if I’m lucky, my love will be there, waiting for me.

[scuderiaelias]

Admittedly, the galas were something that Eli could do without. 

He understood the need to raise money for charity, but was also fully aware that for events like these, there was less of an emphasis on fundraising and more of a focus on image. Everything concerning Ferrari was about image. As starry-eyed as he tended to be when it came to the team, Eli wasn’t so naive to believe that anyone attending tonight was wholly aware of what cause they were raising money for. Embarrassingly, he didn’t even know, but he’d pulled his blazer on anyway, emblazoned with the prancing horse crest, and tried his best not to feel too much like an obedient little school boy as he tied his tie in Matty’s mirror.

Catching sight of Matty coming up behind him in the reflection, he turned towards his best friend, letting himself be appraised. He trusted Matty to tell him if he was suitably dressed for the evening, although he knew that Matty, who came from a world of high-fashion and designer trends, would probably be the one caught holding the matches if his Ferrari blazer was ever set ablaze.

“I look okay?” he asked. He was modest, but not so humble to believe that he wouldn’t be the second most-photographed attendee at the gala, the first obviously being Jax. He wanted to make sure that he looked clean and professional so he didn’t screw up any pictures and accidentally set up a PR meeting.

His eyes dipped down to Matty’s bare chest, the water from his shower still clinging to him in a way that was disturbingly inviting. Had they still been in their early twenties with no real standing in the public eye, Eli was almost certain that that towel around Matty’s waist would already be long gone and Eli’s hair would be far more tousled than it was now. It seemed like a far more entertaining way of spending his night, but he had to be on his best behaviour. People were counting on him to show up and shake hands and charm people the way Brendan would have. The success of the night was riding on Eli’s ability to flash that boy-next-door smile and keep their fans right in the palm of his hand.

His eyes fluttered shut with a content little noise when he felt Matty’s hands in his hair, the touch soft and welcoming and far more comfortable than sliding on his racing balaclava and helmet. However, he immediately wrinkled his nose, peaceful expression gone as he cracked one eye open and gave Matty a withering look. 

“Behave,” he warned him, half-heartedly. As supportive as Matty was of Eli and his career, he knew that his best friend had no fondness at all for the team he drove for. He thought they were too structured, too rigid, and while Eli would agree to an extent, Matty didn’t get it. Ferrari was Eli’s dream. True, that dream had been impressed upon him from the early days of following Brendan around the paddock, his godfather barely more than a teenager when he kindly made time for a starstruck Eli, allowing him to sit in his car and instructing the mechanics to be patient with him and allow him to help in the garage. Ever since then, you only needed to give Eli a papercut to know that he bled Ferrari-red. Hell, his first pet, a lop-eared rabbit he’d adored, had been named Enzo.

“I just need to look presentable,” he argued, turning back to Matty as he tugged at his own curls and tried to brush them into submission with his fingers. To no avail, of course. “We can’t all be effortlessly pretty like you.”

Sighing and edging out of the way so Matty could have monopoly over the mirror, Eli went in search of his comb. He picked up his phone on the way, where it had been buzzing incessantly, a clear sign that the Twitch Quartet group chat had been active. He scrolled through the messages from the other drivers in their little friendship group, all of them lamenting his absence from their stream tonight. In all honesty, he’d much rather be sitting behind his sim and battling it out on screen with the guys than attending the gala, but duty called. The rest of them didn’t have the same obligations to attend to, but this was what Eli had signed himself up for.

Sending off a gif of a sad-looking cat, he checked his other messages, thumb hovering over the screen when one in particular caught his eye.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. His head flew up and he stared at Matty, catching the other man’s attention. “Ash has been let go.”

Tyler, Eli’s own trainer and good friend, had text him about half an hour ago with the news, letting him know that they were going to be one team member short at the gala due to Ash’s departure from the team. ‘Departure’ being a fancy, PR-friendly word for ‘fired’.

He himself didn’t know the man too well, but he was Jax’s trainer and Eli knew the two were really close. Now, Jax had to attend the gala tonight, one of his first public appearances since the crash that had taken him out for the rest of the season, all with the knowledge that his trainer wasn’t going to be returning to help him in the new year.

“I really don’t think they’re going to care what my hair looks like tonight,” Eli said, swapping a wide-eyed look with Matty.

Having Elias back was like a weight had been lifted from Matty’s shoulders, one he didn’t even know had been pulling him down. He wasn’t overly inclined to feel homesick – he loved his siblings (and the many small children that came as a package deal alongside them), but there had always been so many of them under one roof. Countless voices fighting to be heard, some quieter than others, Hero often overlooked and Matty the one to wipe away her tears and lift her spirits. With Eli, it was much easier. Whenever the other man was away, Matty would find himself switching on the television and searching for his face, in news reels and Best Bit highlight shows. Tiny moments of his best friend, usually clipped down to a 12 second flash of him on the track or a glimpse of his smiling face as he stood alongside Jax. 

Matthew had missed him in the way that a fight might miss the water; Eli was a phantom limb, the only thing keeping Matty entirely whole when he was around. It seemed dramatic and codependent, he knew that. It wasn’t that he couldn’t be happy without Elias around – not by any stretch – but he simply enjoyed life more when he was there. Matty was by no means a lonely person, but with Amira gone, Killian ghosting him, and a crush that he’d incorrectly assumed to be harmless, he desperately needed his best guy back.  

The second Eli’s flight had landed, Matty had been there, standing at the arrival gate with a bouquet of flowers so extravagant they obscured his face from view. He’d peeked through the assortment of roses and peonies, grinning to himself as he spotted his best friend, releasing a peel of laughter as he saw the look of embarrassment on his face. Eli hadn’t needed to see Matty’s face to know just who was hiding behind the flowers, he’d simply known that nobody else on this earth would have shown up with the intent of both lovingly greeting him as well as flustering him. 

Now, tucked safely into the comfort of Matty’s penthouse apartment, the whole city as their backdrop, the two of them were smartening themselves up for a night on the town. Or, rather, a Gala Evening courtesy of the speed demons that Elias was employed by.  

“Well, you look as dashing as ever,” Matthew noted, wandering towards his best friend, a warm smile on his face. Eli was getting suited and booted for the night, while Matty was still shirtless, water droplets dripping down his chest from his still-wet hair. “I’m really loving the tousled look, I have to say.” 

His friend’s fingers moved deftly at the fabric in his hands, securing his black tie to his neck. While he was almost fully ready – bar his cringey Ferrari blazer, as Eli had put it himself – his hair remained perfectly unkempt, appearing to be the very last thing requiring his care. Strands stood to attention every which way, with tendrils dropping low over his brow, in front of his eyes. 

“You think Ferrero Rocher would let you wear it like this?” he asked, reaching forward to comb a delicate hand through the soft tufts of Eli’s hair. He smirked, anticipating the eyeroll his slip of the tongue would earn him. 

[impyssadobsessions]

Raising Phantom Chpt 6

Read Here on Ao3 Bruce knew his kids were up to something. They've been more secretive as of late, which normally wasn't that strange if it wasn't for the number of times he looked at his phone to see his kids at the public library. Damian said something about them being fixated on a couple of civilians, before being interrupted by Duke saying he thinks Alfred (the cat) was sick. This caused the young boy to run out the room and ever since he hadn't spoken much about it. “It was just a hairball.” Damian muttered later in response to Bruce asking if Alfred (the cat) was okay. Damian avoided him after that. Even on patrol he noticed his kids were using private lines or whispering once Bruce was too far to hear or read them. He wasn't sure what they were hiding, but he was determined to find out. He was hoping the Gala he was holding for the night would give him answers. After all... Glancing at his children as they met up in the formal sitting room before the gala. His kids actually WANTED to come with him tonight. Only Damian was visibly upset. Jason was only one missing, checking his phone. He wasn't far from the manor. Probably was going to come in late. Bruce squinted his eyes at his children. They were definitely up to something.

---owo--- Jasmine wanted to strangle Vlad. Not only did he keep her out of school and work, thankfully everyone was very sympathetic to her, he went through four designers before she finally convinced him to stick with one. She felt so bad for them. The last one had less than 42 hours to make the gown. They did so splendidly. Her dress did look gorgeous, just wasn't her at all. Thankfully the shape of it was more her taste. It took a lot of convincing to get Vlad to drop the ballgown idea and the pure red look. Jazz made sure to slip the designer some more money from Vlad's bank account as a tip. It was a mermaid style dress with a red and black gradient. The skirt was pin striped black and red. The bodice had detailing sewn on and jewels pin to it. Black sparkly tool laced her hips and then large ruffles of the stuff at the bottom covering her black flats. Vlad would never know that she switched her silver heels for something more comfortable. She also was fitted with black gloves that reached to her biceps. A black choker with jewels that matched her teal eyes, and black bird clips that decorated her hair that was braided into a bun. She fidgeted with her bodice. It wasn't a perfect fit, but it did the job, even if she was often reminded of the forgotten stray pins the tailor left behind. She didn't blame the poor guy as he did amazing for what he was forced to do, but it didn't help her souring mood either. BESIDES the prickly dress, and Vlad's insistence of how important this was, the gala was definitely not how she imagined it. Yeah, she thought it be boring... but it was ridiculously so. Not only that, she found herself still being eyed by a few rich creeps. She wanted to kick them so hard in the balls. Thankfully, Vlad took over the conversations, allowing her to just hide back behind the man. Danny looked like he wanted to kick the men too.. and the women who come to dote on how cute he is. Jazz giving Danny a meek smile every time, while patting his head. She couldn't argue with what the women say, she too thought he looked too cute in a suit. With his chubby cheeks and big eyes. She wouldn't dare say it in front of Danny though. They were just biding their time, following Vlad around until he was able to boast to Bruce. However, Jazz did notice anytime they seem to be close to greeting Bruce, something would happen. Either someone else would come up to them and distract Vlad, or someone would pull Bruce farther from them. She also found it quite odd when they were just a few people away from Bruce, Vlad was bumped into by a man with a wig and fake mustache, getting wine all over his suit. That infuriated Vlad, making them wait outside of the restroom as he “cleaned” his suit. Which meant phasing the wine out of his clothes. Danny was kicking at the floor, hands in his pockets. He just wanted to leave. Jazz felt the same, as she leaned back against the wall. She let out a yelp and jerked back, remembering one of the pins that was left behind out. Danny's brows furrowed in concern. Jazz rubbed the place in her back, giving a wave of her hand to Danny not to be concerned. “Jazz! Danny! How's your night been?” A familiar voice called. It was Dick Grayson, in a fancy suit, looking quite handsome. He smiled to them, but the bit of nervous twitching and bouncing energy caught Jazz's eye. “Its been-” Jazz started to reply when Danny answered. “Terrible. Creeps and touchy old women.” He huffed, arms crossed as he was eyeing Dick suspiciously. Dick seem to relax a little giving Danny a sympathetic smile, and a chuckle. “That's true. I never liked them either and Damian's not fairing much better, he almost tried to... retaliate.” “That's an option?” Danny asked. “No, it is not.” Jazz stated firmly, giving a stern look at Danny. Dick started to chuckle at them, amused, before jolting in spot as if he was reminded why he was there. His eyes side glancing towards a direction. Danny and Jazz having caught notice glanced that way as well, but couldn't find anything important. “Would you like to dance?” Dick hurried with a grin, holding out his hand. “Its about as much fun you can get in here.” Danny was glaring at Dick, ready to pounce. Jazz instead, was pondering the sincerity of the offer. Her lips pursed and brow raised with her arms crossed. She opened her mouth to speak when Vlad loudly entered the scene. “Ah~ Fresh and clean once again. You be amazed at what a little clean up could do Danie- Ah. Dick Grayson. What a pleasure to see you again.” Vlad's voice changing into a fake tone he had held most of the night. Dick's face scrunched for a moment, revealing he did not think the same. Jazz and Danny couldn't blame him. Dick spoke with gritted teeth. “Mr. Masters. What a... pleasure.” “Can you help us locate your father? I been dying to see him all night.” Dick's shoulders relaxed as if he was expecting a different conversation entirely. He side glance and smiled with more smoothness, “I have no clue where he is, last saw him talking to Ms. Atticus on the balcony.” “Pity.” Vlad grumbled, irritated. “Of course the playboy can't stay away from a woman's wile. Surprise he hasn't been striped of everything he owns by one yet.” Dick's fist clenched. “Well, that will be all then. There is still a few more elites I want to introduce my children to.” Vlad stated. Dick blinked, glancing between Jazz and Danny. “Your children?” “Yes, this is my lovely daughter Jasmine! Though I would advise you not to try and woo her. She's quite busy.” Vlad pointed out. Dick seemed to be stuck on the daughter part. He muttered, “Daughter..?” “And this is Daniel-” “Danny.” Jazz and Danny corrected what felt like the twentieth time tonight. “DANNY, my rule breaking son-grandson.” Vlad corrected, as Jazz slapped a hand to her forehead. Her fist clenched tightly. Dick look broken for a minute. He glanced at Jazz and then at Vlad, opening his mouth to speak, then closing it again. “Dick!” Bruce's voice called out, he had Damian under his arm, and Tim's shoulder was firmly under his other hand, as he pushed through the crowd, looking furious. Damian's clothes were a mess and Tim's clothes didn't look much better. Damian was hissing, trying to get out of his father's grip. Tim was giving Dick a panicked look. Dick's eyes widened, then took Jazz's hand pulling her with him into the crowd. “Sorry, but I would really like this dance.” Jazz let out a quick scream of surprise as she was spun onto the dance floor. She blinked in confusion as she tried to keep up. She was so glad she had changed her shoes or she feared her ankles would have cracked. As she was being whisked through the crowd, she turned to glare at Dick. She opened her mouth to scold him for using her to escape his father, when she found herself spun straight into someone's chest. “Change of partners.” Dick said with a bright grin before running in a different direction. The man caught her easily, hands holding tight in the catch, then releasing gently. She could feel the vibrations of his voice as he growled. “Dick! You can't just-” Jazz blinked trying to get orientated on what had just happened, pushing herself off the man. She stared up at the man, blushing as she noticed the familiar black curly hair and white streak. It was Jason, the man that's been reading to her child. To Danny. It was strange to see him in a suit, not that he wore it properly. He purposely left the tie behind and shirt was unbutton a bit. The jacket left open and loose. “Er.” Jason seemed awkward, as they stood on the dance floor. Jazz rapidly regained her composure and frowned. “What on Earth was that?” Jason didn't know what to say at first, then decided to be straight forward replying with. “A distraction.” “I can see that.” She huffed, bottom lip pouted annoyed. She glanced in the direction she came from. Vlad and Bruce seemed to be arguing from where she could see. That was not worth going back to. Its bad enough Vlad called Danny his son in front of Dick. She didn't want to see what speech he had come up with for Bruce. “Fine. If it keeps me from having to be with Vlad any longer tonight, I'm all for being distracted. Ugh. I can't believe him.” She grumbled the last part under her breath. Jason raised a brow, eyeing her for a moment. It wasn't the same look like the other guys had been staring at her all night with. “What happened?” His voice waived. Jazz debated to say, glancing back over to Vlad again. They were still arguing, and looked pretty heated. Tim was inching along the walls, probably to flee. Who she assumed was Damian, appeared to be held back by his Father, as he looked like he was going to attack Vlad. Danny wasn't anywhere to be seen, not like he was easy to spot between the crowd. He was probably chasing after Dick. She sighed, turning back to Jason. It be nice to get it off her chest and at least explain before Dick spread misinformation to the others. She suspected nothing was really private among the siblings. At least, not anything related to her and Danny, as she had practically met all of them at least once by now. “He-oof!” She started to explain when, an eccentric couple dancing, bumped her back into Jason. She let out a squeak, blushing red at the lipstick stain on his white shirt. She tried too rub it off, but he grabbed her hand to stop her. “Perhaps we should move to the side.” Jason gestured towards the balcony off to the side of the room. It had less people and certainly looked far more inviting. “I'm not much of a dancer, so that would be fantastic.” Jazz smiled, her hand falling on his arm, as he kept hold of her other hand. Jason grinned, “Well, I can't promise we won't have to dance out of here, but if it makes you feel better. Neither am I.” “As long as my feet stay in tact, we will call it a win.” Jazz chuckled. –-uwu-- As soon as Dick took off with Jazz, Danny had been chasing after him. He ran between legs, skidding around people to try and catch the man. He was pretty fast and agile, Danny noted. He growled as he lost sight of Dick. Cursed being so short. He looked around, scanning the area and spaces between the people. He didn't see Jazz or Dick anywhere. He furrowed his brows with a glare. Stupid Vlad. Had to bring them to the gala. He pulled on his bow tie and threw it to the ground, stomping it in anger. He took deep breaths. Adults were staring, he bent down and picked up the tie and stuffed it into his pocket. He unbuttoned his suit to get more comfy. Danny was done. He had reached his limit. Vlad could go suck on a lemon. He took another deep breath and looked where he was. Which was difficult through the sea of legs, he must have been in the middle of the crowd. To avoid being bumped into by butts of the rich, he decided to weave his way to the side. He'll have a better chance to slip away and take an aerial view of the gala that way. Then he could kick Dick in the shin and leave with Jazz. Just as he reached the edge of the crowd squeezing through a line of people, who obviously drunk a little too much, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He quickly turned, jumping away from the touch. Hands clenched ready to fight, only to find himself staring at a light shimmery purple skirt of a dress. Glancing up, he noticed the girl wearing it. She had black hair and dark eyes, and gave a soft smile down at Danny with a wave of her hand. Danny blinked at her confused. Who was this? Another one of their siblings? They had been popping up a lot at the library. He hoped they were just estranged rich kids and not digging their noses where they didn't belong. “Danny?” She spoke softly, giving way that she didn't speak much. Danny just nodded, tilting his head at her. She then turned to the side, gesturing with her hand for him to follow. He furrowed his brows, glancing around him. Ah heck, if he ended up in some strange kidnap situation it be a good way to blow off steam. So he followed her, hands stuffed in his pockets. She lead him closer to the entrance of the room, where most of the people had cleared out from after walking in, over the side where a dark skinned teen in a suit stared at them. He wiped eyes, furrowing his brows as he glanced between Danny and Cass. Danny raised a brow, wondering what was up with him, before the teen grinned awkwardly. A girl was standing beside him with blonde hair, she was wearing a more vibrant colored purple dress that looked similar to the black haired girl's. She waved to them, with a grin on her face. He remembered catching a glance at the blonde hair girl before in the library. It was only brief so he didn't know her name, but her voice was recognizable. “Ah, I'm surprised he came with you so easily. I swore he was going to try and fight someone.” She chuckled waving them over. “I'm not against that.” Danny huffed, his eyes peering back at the other teen instead. He seemed to be trying not to stare at Danny too long, but failing as his eyes keep going back to him. The blonde girl chuckled, kneeling down a bit to be Danny's height. “Sure you're not. We haven't met yet, have we? I'm Steph, this is Duke, and that's Cass.” She introduced the others with a gesture of her hand. Duke gave a weak smile and wave, while Cass waved with a brighter smile. Danny glanced at each, matching the name to the person. They were apart of the family chat Barbara mentioned, they had to be. Danny cut to the chase, not interested in chatting. “Where's Dick?” Steph choked on her laugh, hand to her mouth. Duke scratching back of his head, now turning his face away from Danny. Cass was silently snickering. Danny glared at them, already thinking of ditching his new company. He already hated having to look up at them all. Steph then grabbed Danny's shoulder and turned him into a direction. Danny raised a brow in question at her, then glanced forward. Dick was swinging from the chandelier, while and infuriated Vlad and Bruce were yelling up at him and each other. “He's busy.” Steph grinned looking like she wanted to laugh again. Danny squinted his eyes. Dick was a gymnastics instructor so he guess it made sense how the man was able to lose him, but... If he was up there. He glanced into the crowd, this time with more concern. Where was Jazz? “She's ok.” Cass said as she crouched by Danny, as if picking up on his worry. “Your Mom's with Jason.” Duke smiled with his eyes closed. “Jason...?” Danny flashing back to the man that read to him at the library. “Oh.” Danny wasn't sure how to react. The guy did promise he wasn't going to try and get with Jazz, but he wasn't dumb enough to believe it was impossible that he was lying. His mind flashing to the man that bumped into Vlad, and all the various of times they were kept from Bruce, it clicked to Danny. “So you guys were trying to keep us from Bruce?” Danny asked. Steph hummed in awkwardly in response, Duke and Cass not looking at him. So that was a yes. “Why?” “Its just for the best. Hey, you want something good to eat? We can sneak into the kitchen, Alfred won't mind.” Steph asked. “Strangers separated me from my mom and now offering me food.” Danny stated clearly how suspicious they sounded. “That... does sound fishy from outside...” Duke stated, scratching his cheek, still avoiding staring at Danny now. Or trying too. “Pssh. We didn't separate you guys on purpose, just from uh.. Masters and Bruce. I'm sure Jazz and Jason will join us.” Steph explained. “Besides, we're not really strangers. We know you guys from Babs... though if anyone else asked you this please kick them in the nads and run like Hell.” Danny raised a brow, glancing back at the chaos. It beats being stuck with that hell fire. He'll kick Dick later, though he was slightly envious of the man able to just hand on the chandelier. He wish he could just fly off, but Vlad would noticed and Jazz be upset. His stomach growled, seeming to help make the decision for him. “Fine.” He still had the option to disappear if he needed.

[hyunjilicious]

a helping hand [henry cavill]

A/n: No idea where this came from, and if you guess who the mysterious person mentioned in this fic is, I’ll give you a cookie. If not, you’ll have to wait until I write the second part!

Summary: you ask Henry to help you take some pictures for your onlyfans account KINKY 3.4k

Warnings: dirty talk, age gap, obsessed henry... stalker-ish?, innocence kink? is that a thing? well, henry has it in this fic, nudes, masturbating (both), cum play slight humiliation, daddy kink.. i think that’s all? It’s pretty tame :)

-

"You're a good guy, right?" you asked, your words reaching Henry's ears as soon as you both passed the threshold into your apartment. 

He turned to look at you over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised. "I'd like to think so, yes. Why?"

Ever since you moved in, he'd been glued to your side. The man that lived across the hall from you, although about 16 years older, turned out to be exactly what you needed in your life. He was polite beyond words, everyday willing to throw a helping hand to whoever needed it, built like a machine and with a sense of humour to match.

Every Saturday you went shopping together, and he would always insist on carrying your bags too, even though you'd take the car to the supermarket and rode the elevator up to your floor. He was the one who you paid with a beer to unclog your shower drain, and you were the one who ironed his shirts every time he needed it. Whenever he was out of town, Kal remained at your place, and whenever you were away from home, Henry came over and cooked in your kitchen, because apparently the window positioning in your apartment facilitated the smell getting out faster.

You had been the one who got him to shower and convinced him to eat after the so-called love of his life cheated on him, and he was the one who convinced you not to stop working on your degree when things got too difficult. He was everything to you. And that's why he was the one you decided to trust with this, too.

"I need some help with something-" you said, walking over into the kitchen, arms full of shopping bags.

"What is it?" 

"You wouldn't judge me, right?" 

"Of course not, darling" Henry laughed, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of your head as he started helping you unpack.

"I need someone to take some pictures of me" you confessed, all of a sudden shy as hell. 

"Hm, ok" he nodded, ripping open a bag of lentil chips he forced you to buy. He urged you to take the first piece, and after you did, he dug in, eyes trained on yours as he waited for you to continue.

"Nudes-" you added and then saw him choke.

Red as a tomato, his eyes bulged out of their sockets as the chips got lodged in his throat. "What-" he coughed, shaking his head. "Nudes?"

"Yeah, well-" you added, taking a step back as you felt he needed the space. "I didn't know if you knew, but I have an onlyfans-"

Henry coughed again, finally placing the bag down. "Definitely did not know"

"Ok-" you laughed, "It's really good money"

"And you need me to…"

"Only if you're comfortable with it!" you jumped in. Hoping it would comfort him, you placed your hands on his biceps, your big eyes looking up into his. "I really trust you with this, but if you don't want to, it's absolutely no problem. I'll ask someone else"

Never in your life had you seen him so out of it. He seemed uncomfortable beyond words, his brows slightly furrowed as he processed your request. But there was no way in hell he'd ever decline such an offer, it just seemed too good to be true.

"I just didn't expect this, that's all" he chuckled, bending down to kiss your forehead. With his hand on the back of your neck, he gently prompted you to look up again. "Just tell me when"

"I mean" you breathed out, looking around. "Whenever you're free. We can do it now, if you wanna"

As his enthusiasm grew, so did his cock inside his suddenly too tight jeans. He couldn't help but grin, as pure lust became visible in the blue of his eyes. "Now it is"

"Thank you!!"

"No problem, darling"

Henry made himself busy around your kitchen, tidying up and placing the newly bought items in their designated place as you rushed to your room to get ready. Your make-up wasn't too extravagant, but the lingerie you picked out was nothing if not too perverse. Everything was visible through the thin material, your ass was completely exposed, and the thick rope you held in your hands was the cherry on top when it came to what Henry fantasised about every night.

"I feel weird" you laughed, stepping into the kitchen, wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe.

"I'm sure you look absolutely beautiful" Henry shook his head, locking his phone and standing up. He walked over and when he reached you, you undid the knot and took the robe off, doing a childish pirouette to show him the full picture. 

"Good?"

"Really good" he sighed, closing his eyes from fear that his self control would crack any second. 

You both moved to the living room and the photo shoot began. Although stiff and self conscious at the beginning, you eventually let loose. For the next hour, you posed seductively for him - you touched yourself, moaned out loud in order to get the right expression, giggled innocently into the camera, stared at him with a ball gag in your mouth and it was only the beginning.

For the second part of the shoot, you moved to the bedroom. This was going to be much easier, since you wouldn't be facing the camera. You kneeled in front of the bed, bending over the mattress as Henry stood behind you, waiting for instructions.

"I'm not sure which angle works best..." you told him over your shoulder. "Can you try a few, and then we'll see which ones we like?"

"Sure thing" he chuckled and got to work.

It was weird, not being able to see him, but you remained there, patiently waiting for him to say something. The room was almost perfectly silent, only the faint music you felt on in the living room being audible. You were relaxed and calm, until you felt Henry's boot push your knees apart. You almost gasped, but then he pressed his hand to your lower back, pushing you further down into the mattress, before he grabbed your ass, lifting it up a bit.

"Much better" he stated, stepping back and resuming taking the pictures.

"Wow-" you breathed out, completely turned on by the stern way he handled your body. "Thank you"

"Absolutely no problem, doll"

And finally, for the last part of the shoot, you handed him the long, thick rope and an instructions manual, opened at page 23. "Can you tie my hands to the bedpost, please? Like it says here"

"This is the shit you kids are into, these days?" Henry laughed, sitting down next to you on the bed. 

As he worked on doing the knot, you stared at the patches of chest hair that were visible between the stained buttons of his shirt. "It's what gets the most views."

"But you don't like it?" 

"I do!" you nodded and then hissed out in pain as he tightened the knot too much. "I think it's hot, I wouldn't do this if I didn't like it"

He seemed pleased with your answer, only sending you a smile before he was finished tying you up. You opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it.

"Yes, you look incredibly hot, if that's what you wanted to ask"

You burst into laughter. "Yep, thank you"

Next, you instructed him on how you wanted these pictures to look. The first ones were from the foot of the bed, so that your whole frame would be visible. You arched your back and bended your legs, curling your toes as you pushed your chest out. Even though you couldn't see Henry, his eyes burned your skin. His heavy breathing was audible behind the clicking of the camera, as he every now and then sent you a low grunt of approval.

The lewd sounds he was making had you extremely turned on, as if the way he stared at you wasn't already enough. 

For the last pictures you wanted to take, you asked him to come closer. "I want these directly from above. Get my chest and my hands in, that's all"

"Yep" he agreed, and then moved next to you, the mattress dipping as he settled beside you. Henry took a few pictures, but judging by the look on his face, he wasn't happy.

"What? Tell me" you pouted.

For a second, he looked around the room. You had no idea what he was looking for, and it wasn't as if you could help him while you were still tied to the bed. 

"Let's try something," Henry said, his words coming out more like a question. You nodded in approval and then his left hand found your chest, his fingers expertly undoing the front clasp of your bra. Your tits spilled out and sudden embarrassment creeped up your body, making your cheeks burn.

Your first instinct was to cover yourself with your hands, but your wrists were still tied to the bedpost, leaving you completely exposed. "Oh.." you whined, rubbing your thighs together as you looked at him for approval. Since this was how things were going to go, you at least wanted to look sexy.

"This ok?" Henry asked, his hand on your waist. It was the first time he touched you without a pretext that day, making your pussy all but cry out with need. 

"You tell me" 

"You have really nice tits" Henry grinned and then pushed himself up.

"Thank you…"

And you were completely done and wet for him now. He didn't even try and you were the one who whored around in front of him for an hour, but all you needed was probably a single touch and you'd cum, screaming his name. His massive cock painfully strained against his jeans inches away from your face as his frame towered over your naked chest, taking picture after picture.

"Act more innocent" 

"What?"

"Pout" Henry cleared. "And raise your eyebrows. Guys love that"

Or, in fact, he loved that. As soon as you followed his command, the atmosphere changed. He hid his face behind the phone in his hands, trying to mask his ungodly arousal. As if you couldn't see his cock, all but leaking inside his pants. 

And he did take a few more pictures, two or three, before, without another word, jumping off the bed and bolting from the room.

"What the-" you yelled, pulling on the rope. "Henry, what are you-" and then, you could have sworn you heard a door slam shut.

There was literally nothing you could do, bound naked to the bed. And as if the situation wasn't already messed up enough, the way he left you there, helpless and alone, made the pleasure inside your belly grow exponentially. Thigh rubbing did absolutely nothing to alleviate the pain, and no matter how much you squirmed around, you couldn't do anything else other than keep edging yourself.

You had no idea how much time passed before he returned, but when he walked back into the room, you couldn't have been happier. "Henry-" you whined, looking up at him. "What happened?"

"Nothing sorry" he shook his head. He looked terrified, afraid that you would hate him forever. "I'm sorry, I- heard my phone ring and I-"

It was the worst lie in all creation, but you didn't mind one bit. You weren't mad at all.

"That's ok" you smiled, "You could have told me, but it's fine"

"You're not mad?"

"I'm not" you said, "It comes with allowing some to tie you up, I guess"

"Oh shut up" he blushed, leaning over your body to finally undo the knot. "I'm sorry, but I gotta go now, I really have something to do"

"Yeah, sure, thank you so much, again" you sincerely said, rubbing your shoulders and enjoying the feeling of blood freely coursing through your arms again as you followed him to the door. 

Before hugging him goodbye, you clasped your bra back on, and then moved behind the door so no prying eyes of any neighbour that might pass by could land on you. 

"Wanna come over later?" Henry asked as he walked out of your apartment, "Grab a beer or something?"

"Yeah, sure" you smiled, butterflies in your stomach as you so wanted to ask for another favour. "I-" you muttered before you stopped, shaking your head. "Nevermind"

"Everything ok?" Henry frowned, extending a hand to you. "Tell me"

"It's nothing"

"Come on"

"We'll talk later today, ok?" you asked, hoping you'd gather more confidence until then. He agreed and you went your separate ways. 

Oh and how grateful he was you did. Henry barged into his home, slamming the door shut and locking it in a haze. He stumbled to the bathroom, feeling intoxicated. It was as if the last time he actually managed to get a breath of fresh air was before you asked him to take your pictures. He felt suffocated and attacked. He had you naked in front of him, moaning and doing your best to look confident and seductive, yet he couldn't touch you. Couldn't place his greedy hands on that sweet body of yours, on the body he so often dreamed of ruining. 

Ever since you moved in, you consumed him. You plagued his dreams and whitened his nights. The sweet college girl that didn't know how to change a light-bulb, the one he dreamed of fucking until she cried, was displaying her body on the Internet for strangers to see. He was enraged and incredibly turned on.

About 5 minutes ago, he had stormed out of your room, running to the bathroom to release the fucking pain that tormented his cock. It took him about a couple of minutes of rubbing himself to finish, yet that wasn't enough. As soon as he was alone again, he hopped into the shower, placing himself right under the stream of ice cold water.

It steamed off of him. He was still under your spell, breathing heavily and cursing under his breath. "Holy shit, baby girl" he muttered into the empty bathroom, one hand against the marble wall in front of him. He bowed his head, the water pouring down his face as he thought of you, and the way you touched yourself in front of him. He remembered the smile on your lips when he returned to you, tied to the bed and eager to see him again. His cock fucking twitched at the thought. 

A few painful strokes later and he was cumming again, your name on his lips as his seed left his tip, wasting away down the drain. The shower was completely useless. He felt as filthy as ever.

Henry grabbed himself a beer and opened his laptop, unwilling to let you go. He wasn't an expert when it came to social media and about an hour passed until he gave up trying to find your account. You didn't want to be found and he respected that. Or…

As he scrolled through the apps on his phone, he remembered. 'bbdoggydoll28iwon, I use that password everywhere [...] no, I won't change it [...] I trust you won't hack my Instagram, Henry, shut up'

Oh, and hacked it, he did. He couldn't have cared less about your chats, but he 'ctrl+F'ed his way through all of them, until he stumbled upon a conversation with your best friend, where you discussed different possible names for your onlyfans account. He prayed with all his being, to all the deities he knew, that you hadn't changed and your mind and that you used the one you settled on with your friend. And when he checked the account and saw your cute, little smile in the profile picture, he almost orgasmed again.

Firstly, he tried to log in, but for this, you created another password. Henry didn't even think twice before making a fake email and typing in a random name, as he created himself an account. He pulled his credit card out, fingers sweating as he added in his credentials. And then there you were. 

He couldn't believe his eyes. A month's worth of content, right before his eyes. The last post, made 23 hours ago, was a selfie taken in the bathtub. Foam covered most of your body, but not your tits as you playfully blew bubbles around. "Oh fuck…" Henry groaned, palming himself through his underwear.

He took another sip of beer and scrolled further down. Every post alone was able to blow his mind, but when he came across a video of you getting yourself off, he thought he reached heaven.

Your legs spread apart as your fingers toyed around your clit in circular motions, your toes wiggling with pleasure, your tits, naked and bouncing and you softly rocked your body - he was done. He connected his headphones, willing to believe he could be the only one to hear your innocent whimpers and moans. His hand found his cock without him having to tear his eyes away from the screen. 

"I wish you were here-" you cried out in the video, and he lost it. "I wish you could stuff me, Daddy. I'm needy and alone… please-"

"Jesus Chris, y/n" he breathed, throwing his head back as he bucked his hips, thinking of how sweet your pussy would feel while being stretched to the extreme. 

"... I know you want to fuck me, Daddy…" 

"Course I do, baby girl" Henry grunted, completely sucked in and mesmerised by you.

"Pull my hair-" you whined, before moaning.

"I'd pull your hair until you cried, my baby." Henry moaned. 

"... I wanna be yours… I wish you owned me…"

And then he couldn't anymore. He drowned out all noises and his vision became a blur, another orgasm surging through his body as he thought of you. When he finished, he looked down. His cum had gotten everywhere, on his muscular thighs and on his shirt, but most of it was on his fingers. Normally, he'd wipe it in the blink of an eye, but not now. He stopped and contemplated for a while, imagining how it would feel to coat your lips with his seed. How he wished he could see your pretty face covered in his cum. 

His whole afternoon turned out to be a haze. He didn't eat anything, just downed a couple beers and watched everything you ever posted. Over and over again. It was already dark out by the time he stood up from his desk, discarding his headphones and plopping down on the bed, no care in the world as Sunday would soon roll around. 

He had no idea when he woke up. But he felt rested and desperate to find an excuse to see you again. Henry went and searched for his phone, his heart nearly stopping when he saw 5 texts from you and 3 missed calls. 

*one missed call*

'What about that beer?'

'Henry?'

'I'm bored… I'll watch a movie until you answer, you always leave your phone in the bathroom smh'

*2 missed calls*

'Oh lmao sorry'

'I just knocked on your door but you weren't there. You're probably out. Call me whenever you waaant 😘'

How could he forget?! He stood you up, and then still, you were so sweet to him. Deciding to give himself some time to properly wake up before reaching out, he stumbled to his computer. His intention was to check his emails, as he always did every morning, but this time, his screen lit up exactly where he left it the previous night, on your onlyfans page. 

He was ready to switch the tabs and go on with his day, when something caught his eye. A post, made at 3:42am. His blood boiled as he saw the picture, the thumbnail for your next video - you, bent over some strangers lap, a short school girl skirt hiked up your hips.

"Hi guys!!!! I have many surprises in store for the upcoming days!!! Thanks to a sweet friend of mine, I have some semi-professional pics for you, so you can take a break from my lame selfies 😂. Another thing for you guys to look forward to is a video that I almost didn't film because said friend wasn't available, buuuuuut someone else came through at the last second, and it's by far my most requested post ever. I love you guys, thank you for all your support!!!! Stay tuned. I'll go to sleep right now, edit it for you when I wake up, and post it by tomorrow night. Kisses!"

Needless to say, Henry saw red.

[havin-a-wee]

Appointment (Doctor's Orders Part 2)

read part 1 here

send me a request here

masterlist

pairing: gynecologist!harry x reader/doctor!harry x reader

word count: 4.7k

warnings: the filthiest of filth. like im serious this is basically pure smut.

its finally here! im in love with the way this turned out and i hope you guys are too! i got a few requests for this, and im actually really liking these two characters, so lemme know if you want me to make a series out of this!

Y/N's texts are in italics

Harry's texts are in bold

You felt like a kid in a candy store as you skipped out of the building, being welcomed by a setting sun. You weren’t just skipping out of excitement though, it was also because if you walked normally the shaking of your legs would be extremely noticeable. Luckily, when you arrived you had managed to find a parking spot nearby, so it didn’t take you long to make your way to the small black car that you recently purchased for yourself.

A small noise signaled when you unlocked the car, and you slipped into the driver’s seat quickly, shutting the door as you sat down.

You let yourself slouch, your back hitting the leather seat and a heavy exhale pushing through your flared nostrils. Finally, you had a moment to take in the events that just took place, and the excitement and nervousness flowed through your brain. Luckily, there was no regret swirled in with your feelings, although you were sure there wouldn’t be. Okay, maybe it wasn’t the ideal situation to have your first orgasm, but if this was how Harry would make his way into your life, you couldn’t complain. You closed your eyes and sighed, the post-orgasmic haze you’ve heard so much about finally settling in. In the darkness a smiling face appeared, and you grinned as well at the detailed picture of Harry your mind had concocted.

Suddenly, you sat up with a gasp, gripping the gear shift with your clammy hand. You had just remembered about the small piece of paper sitting in your pocket. The piece of paper with the number of the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen written on it. He had told you to text him when he got home, so obviously you had to get home as fast as possible.

Having been driving since you were 16, the motions were second nature, and the only thought you had to put into it was when you were checking to see if there was anyone in the way before you backed out of your parking spot.

Your apartment was only 10 minutes away, and you spent those 10 minutes half paying attention to the road, half thinking about the man that had his fingers inside of you. The thought in itself was causing arousal to pool in your already soiled panties. The expensive lingerie was undoubtedly going to end up in the trash, but you’d rather lose a pair of panties than lose a chance with Harry.

You pulled into your designated spot in the parking garage attached to your apartment building, and ran so quickly to the elevator that you almost tripped on your own feet. Thankfully the silver doors slid open without delay, and you swiftly stepped into the small area. Your manicured finger frantically pushed on the ‘door close’ button. The last thing you needed was someone walking into the elevator with you, seeing your bright red complexion and flushed features. Much to your relief, that didn’t happen, and the elevator lifted you up to the third floor. Objectively, the elevator was incredibly quick. However, in your needy state it felt so slow as if you were riding the shell of a turtle. The loud dinging pulled you back into reality, your mind wandering. You were thinking about what Harry’s hands felt like, and what they would feel like on the parts of your body that he hadn’t gotten to touch.

Yet.

You fumbled with your keys, attempting to grip your phone at the same time. After a bit of struggling, the rigged piece of metal slid into the slot on the doorknob, the door swinging open after you twisted the key. When you tried to remove the key from the lock, it stayed in place, pulling you backwards and almost making you fall.

You smiled at your own clumsiness, not focused enough to allow embarrassment to develop throughout you. Again jiggling the key, it slipped out of the lock and you quickly pushed the door closed using your back. You were left leaning up against the wooden door, flipping your phone screen to face you and sticking your hand in your pocket. You fished around in the small cavity, your fingers locating the small piece of paper that was making you so giddy. You punched the scribbled numbers into your contact app with haste.

Although you wanted to text him more than anything, you reasoned with yourself for a second. Instead of clicking at the keys on your screen, you picked your head up, disconnecting it from the bright touch screen in your hand.

Sucking in a deep breath, you turned back to the phone, satisfied with your attempt to calm yourself.

Hi Harry, it’s Y/N.

Instead of immediately going for something sexual, you wanted to start off the conversation normally. Also, there was the fact that you had no idea what he was actually looking for by giving you his number. His response came quicker than you could of ever expected, the typing bubble popping up seconds after the delivered sign appeared underneath your text.

Hi! I’m glad you actually texted me, because honestly I thought you wouldn’t.

Why would you think that? I would have to be pretty shitty to do something like that with you and then ditch.

I promise I don’t think you’re like that, it’s just the whole thing happened it slightly odd circumstances haha

It’s totally okay I get it, but I definitely don’t want that to be the only time something like that happens ;)

You were feeling bold, now sitting on your bed removing the heeled white boots you wore to match your outfit.

I’m glad you feel that way, because I feel the same. Just curious, when exactly would you want to do “something like that” again?

You giggled while reading his text, practically hearing the pauses of shyness that he would take if he said it in person.

As soon as you want to.

I’m sitting in my car right now about to go home, but I could make a pitstop if you asked politely..

Will you please come over and take care of me Daddy?

You cringed as soon as your finger hit the send button. Sexting was definitely not your forte, and in the heat of the moment you had forgotten that you hadn’t indulged in that kink with him the first time.

Who knew you could be so dirty love?

Send me your address. I'll be there asap.

You tapped away at the keys on your phone, sending him your information and you saw that he read it, but didn’t respond, clearly driving to you already.

Your panties were absolutely ruined at this point, and you made the decision to take them off, gliding the lacy white panties down your thighs and calves. When they fell on the floor, you picked your feet up to remove them from the leg holes, leaning over to pick up the panties with your hand. You wanted to show them to Harry, show him how messy he made you.

You clenched your thighs together, your core pulsing like a second heartbeat. A small whine slipped past your lips, and your eyes widened at your own actions. You had never been this aroused or needy in your life, and while these feelings were new, they weren’t scary like a lot of new feelings were for you. It was exciting, and just thinking about Harry rushing over to you because he wanted you so badly was sending fire through your veins. No one had ever wanted you so much, and you have never wanted someone this much. And it’s exhilarating.

After a painfully long time sitting on the edge of your bed anxiously, a loud knock on the door had you standing up in a flash, sauntering over to the door with unnatural speed. Your arousal began to drip down onto your thighs now that you were standing. The slickness between them had them sliding against one another, but the feeling was overshadowed by the rapid beating of your heart. You gripped the doorknob so tightly that your knuckles turned white, twisting your hand and pulling the door open.

“Ello love.”

He stood in the doorway with his hand resting on the top of the doorframe, towering over you. He had that sexy smirk plastered on his face and you ran your eyes up and down his figure, taking in the man before you. He was wearing a black t-shirt, which was loose but tight enough that his pecs were defined in the shirt. He had on a pair of black dress pants which the t-shirt was tucked into. There were tattoos littering his arms, which you hadn’t seen before because of the lab coat he wore during your appointment.

You thought he couldn’t get any hotter than before, but the person in front of you proved you wrong.

“Hi,” you murmured timidly, your boldness from the texting having disappeared. “Come in,” you stepped to the side, opening the door wider so he could step into your apartment. You closed the door, and against your better judgement you turned to the kitchen, trying to find that desperation that had allowed you to throw away all of your anxieties. “Do you want water or something?” You weren’t sure what to say, so you went with the default offer for a drink.

“No.”

You spun around, looking at Harry and tilting your head in confusion.

“I want you.”

He took a long stride forward and placed his large hand on the soft skin of your cheek, leaning in and connecting your lips with his. His lips were as soft as cloud, and you kissed him back with just as much vigor. The kiss was passionate, mixing moans into the drafty air. You sucked his bottom lip and bit down lightly, and a low growl bubbled up from his throat.

Your heart skipped a beat when his tongue swirled around yours. You jumped slightly at the impact of the wall on your back, Harry pushing you into the cold drywall.

Finally pulling away to allow breathing, you and Harry kept your foreheads pressing on each other, leaning some of his weight on you.

“Y’so beautiful darlin, reckon yeh the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

His hot breath hit your face when he breathed, and you were squirming underneath him.

“I could say the same for you,” you huffed out, refusing to break eye contact.

“Thank you baby,” he cooed, placing his veiny hand on your plump cheek and running his thumb across it. The tip of his finger reached your swollen lips, and he pushed his large thumb pass them. You eagerly sucked on the digit, hollowing your cheeks and treating it like you would his cock.

His free hand had found a home on your waist, but he hadn’t moved it since he initiated the kiss, and you were getting frustrated. You reached down and placed your hand atop his, looking up through your eyelashes into his emerald eyes. They’re piercing, and you knew that one stare from him would have any girl on her knees.

The tops of his cold rings touched your fingers when you peeled his hand from its strong grasp and your waist. You were looking at him with innocent doe eyes while you lifted his significantly larger hand and placed it back on your side, but this time at the same level as your breasts. He broke the deep eye contact you were sharing to look down at his hand, slowly shifting it to cup you through your thin tank top.

“M’baby girl is desperate fo me huh?” Harry teased you and you nodded frantically, whimpering in neediness. He pulled his finger from your wet mouth and in a split second he collided his lips with yours once again, but they didn’t remain there for long. He dragged his lips down your jaw, sucking and kissing down your neck. You tilted your head to give him better access, moaning when he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot.

His hand that you had moved was pulling and squeezing at your full breast, eventually rucking your tank top up to pinch at your budding nipple underneath. You had removed your bra when you got home, and a small smirk tugged at your face when he moaned at the realization. A sheen of sweat was glistening on his forehead and you lifted your arms straight in the air, giving him permission to remove your top. He pulled it over your head hastily, only breaking the kiss for a moment when the fabric covered your face. You didn’t see what he did with the top, your focus diverted to the feeling of his lower torso. You had removed the hem of his shirt from underneath his pants, only leaving the back part tucked because you couldn’t reach it.

You splayed your hands over his hardened abs, and he snaked his arm around your waist and pulled you closer in response. His head was buried in the crook of your neck, leaving hickey after hickey on the silky skin. He nipped and licked at your skin as if you were a popsicle, sweet and refreshing.

“Daddy, please -- off!” Your moans cut off your words, rendering you unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Y’want me to take my shirt off baby? Such a naughty little minx y’are.”

Despite his teasing, he pulled away from you to grab the bottom of his shirt and ripped it off in one fell swoop.

You barely had time to take in the tattoos on his chest, only being able to identify a large butterfly right in the middle before he looped his arms around your waist. “Jump.” His command was quiet, but you heard it perfectly clear.

You bent your knees and jumped up, his arms following your motions. You lifted your legs and wrapped them around his bare torso. You hugged him tightly, your arms wrapping around his neck and sinking your face into his soft brown curls. His hair smelled of expensive shampoo, and you indulged in the sweet scent. “Behind you,” you whispered, directing him to your bedroom.

Without a second of hesitation, he turned around and carried you to the bedroom. You took it upon yourself to place sloppy kisses on his neck, giving him the same hickeys he had given you.

You giggled when he bent over the bed, dropping you from about an inch off the red comforter covering your bed.

“Don’t know why y’laughin’ pet, cause m’about to fuck yeh till yeh can’t walk.” You gasped when the dirty words registered in your head, and he sported a shit-eating grin on his face. His hands grasped your thighs and he ran them up and down, getting dangerously close to your core. You were writhing under his grasp, pleas for him to do something tumbling out of your mouth. “Patience baby.” He didn’t look up at you when he spoke, instead hiking your skirt up to get a look at your sopping cunt. “Look at you, s’wet already and I’ve barely touched you.”

“All for you, only for you Daddy.” Your words were wailed, every muscle in your body aching for a release. He traced his warm fingers along the crease of your thigh, right next to the place you needed him most.

“Gonna let me have a taste baby? Wanna taste yeh so bad.” He finally looked back up at you, but only for a second before his eyes connected with your glistening pussy again.

“N-no.”

Although you greatly wanted him to put his mouth on you, there was one thing you were craving more.

“No?” His demeanor changed immediately, removing his hands from your body and sitting on his knees between your calves. He removed every source of physical contact you were sharing, and you realized that he took your words in a way you hadn’t intended.

“Still want you Daddy, just want something else.” The second part of your sentence was murmured, and you turned your head to face away from him out of embarrassment. Out of your peripheral vision, you could see him raise an eyebrow, placing his hands by your shoulders and returning to his place hovering above you.

“Look at me little girl. Y’sure yeh don’t want me to taste yeh?”

You followed his command after a beat, looking at his disheveled state.

“What do yeh want baby? M’feelin generous today.” He was speaking in pants, his curls sticking to the perspiration-slick surface of his forehead.

“Wanna taste you Daddy. Please lemme-”

You reached down to unbuckle his belt, but he caught your hand before you could.

“Thas’ what this is all about? Such a slut f’me that you’d rather taste me then lemme taste you?” His hand moved to caress your cheek, running his finger across your saliva coated lip.

“Yes, wanna suck you off so bad Daddy.” You pushed out your lip forming an adorable pout, giving him your best puppy eyes and making sure he saw the tears of desperation welling in your lust blown eyes.

“Alright, alright, how do yeh wanna do it baby?” Instead of responding, you grasped the back of his firm thighs, pulling him up towards your face. He got the hint, shifting his knees to sit by your chest. You were now face to face with his very prominent bulge, and your mouth watered at the sight. Even though you wanted to unbuckle his belt yourself, he did it for you, allowing his rock hard erection to spring free after rolling down his boxers.

He stroked himself a few times, and you lifted your head to try and get him in your mouth. He pushed your shoulder down, and made it clear that he wanted to be in control. Finally, after much anticipation he placed his cock on the tip of your tongue, which you had stuck out for him to do exactly that.

You accepted it eagerly, sucking harshing on the tip of his cock. He moaned lowly, tilting his head backwards in ecstasy. You ran your tongue along his sensitive slit, reveling in the filthy noises and expletives that spilled out of his sweet pink lips.

Once you were satisfied with your teasing, you took him in your mouth about halfway, stopping before you gagged. Your hand made its way to the base of his thick shaft, pumping the part of him that you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You bobbed your head up and down his cock, your tongue twisting and twirling around his member. You made sure to pay extra attention to his tip, giving it kitten licks when you needed to take a breather. Each time you took him back in your mouth, you pushed yourself further down, this time gagging after pushing him all the way down your throat. He stopped his groans of pleasure to look down at you, and he swore he could cum from just seeing you under him with smeared mascara and teary eyes. “Y’ok baby?” You nodded with him still in your mouth. You stilled for a moment, trying to think of a way to tell him that you wanted him to fuck your mouth. His hand was holding your hair out of your face as a makeshift hair tie, and you decided to tap on the wrist of that hand to give him permission. He looked down at you and raised his eyebrows, a silent gesture to assure you were okay with it. You nodded, his cock moving up and down with your head. He didn’t need any more instructions, pushing your head down on his shaft instantly.

You choked and gagged as he took control, moving your head up and down his thick cock. “Doin’ so well f’me baby, taking m’cock like a good little slut.” His purrs of approval were raspy, moan and gasps chopping his sentence up. Periodically, he pulled you off of him, allowing you to catch your breath before plunging back down on his member again.

The sudden pulsing of his cock inside your mouth was a wordless praise, and you were incredibly proud that you were able to bring him to his orgasm as quickly as you did.

He pulled you off of him again, and you heaved a few times as you filled your lungs back up with oxygen. But unlike before, he didn’t bring you back onto his cock, even pulling you back when you attempted to put him back in your mouth yourself. You cried out when he repositioned himself between your legs, back in the place he was when you were first on the bed.

All you wanted to do was finish him off, but he wouldn’t let you for a reason that was unknown to you.

“Daddy!” You were about to beg and whine to finish him off but his index finger on your lips kept you from your begging.

“As much as I’d love t’watch yeh swallow m’cum, I need t’feel this gorgeous cunt of yours.”

You quivered when the bands of his icy cold rings gripped the warm, supple flesh of your inner thighs. They dug into your skin, sending a pleasurable tingling sensation throughout your body, landing in your core.

If you were horny before, there wasn’t even a word to describe how utterly turned on you were now.

Your skirt was already hiked up from before, but Harry wanted it off fully. He ran his fingers across the waistband, finally finding the zipper and unzipping it faster than you could blink. “Bloody hell baby,” he grunted, taking a moment to admire your fully naked body squirming under him, begging for him to touch you. He wished he had a camera to capture you in this state, only thinking about one thing, him.

He stood up, his feet barely hitting the floor before he yanked his pants and boxers off. He was huge, and you stared at his prick in awe, even though you’ve been looking at it. His size was truly difficult to take in, because usually a big cock is either long or thick, not both. But Harry was both and some, and you were convinced that you would be content sucking on it for the rest of your life.

Distracted by your own dirty thoughts, you weren’t paying attention to what Harry was doing, only being shocked out of your haze when he ran two of his fingers across your sticky folds. He pulled his fingers away as your body jolted, surprised by the sudden contact. Strings of your arousal connected your cunt to his fingers, and he cursed under his breath. His fingers were covered in your juices and he stuck the digits in his mouth, sucking happily when he finally got to taste your sweet, sweet nectar.

He hummed constantly when he took the fingers out of his mouth. “Taste even sweeter than I imagined, baby. Could eat y’up all day long.”

You mewled and kicked your legs, tired of all of the teasing. “Daddy... just want you inside me!” He hushed you and reassured you that he would take care of you, leaning over your body and positioning himself on top of you. He lined himself up with you, his tip bumping your puffy clit. You whimpered and Harry took the message, finally pushing his rock hard cock into your soaking wet core.

“Fuck -- Daddy you’re s-so big,” you whined. He tilted forward, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

It took a minute for him to bottom out, Harry pushing in slowly to minimize the sting. There was a bit of pain as your body conformed to fit him inside of your tight little hole.

“Fuck baby, y’so fucking tight, might come just from this.” He had a silly smile on his face, but you both knew there was no joke laced between his words. He latched his darkened lips on an indent by your collar bone, nipping and licking on the skin while he waited for the approval to move.

“Move. Please move.”

The first thrust was hard and fast, he pulled almost fully out of you and then slammed him hips back up into you.

“Shit!”

Just like when you had him in your mouth, you could feel the thick veins running along his sizable shaft. He repeated the same type of movement for the next few thrusts, pounding into you and drawing back out over and over.

“So,” “Fuckin,” “Beautiful,”

Each of his words preceded a snapping of his hips, slamming into you particularly hard after calling you beautiful.

“Feels- feels so good, so good Daddy.” You were sobbing with pleasure. His thick cock filled you up so good it was like he was made for you.

“Didn’t even think it was possible f’someone t’be this tight baby. You’re takin’ meh so well sweet girl, so so well.” He found a rhythm, snapping his hips into yours, your velvety walls engulfing his cock perfectly. Watching himself disappear inside your tight hole egged Harry on even more, as well as the noises that your juices made when he rammed himself inside your pretty little cunt. His thumb was pressed against your clit, circling the overly sensitive bundle of nerves. Pleasure was coursing through your veins, the firey burning feeling better than anything you had ever felt before.

Your hands were spread across his back, nails digging crescent shaped divots into the skin. Each time your fingers dug into the expanse of his back he growled, so you did it after each thrust. His lips were everywhere, kissing and licking all of the exposed skin that he could reach.

“Daddy..”

He took your pebbled nibble into his mouth, unable to resist after watching your tits bounce when he pushed himself in and out of you.

“So good baby, s’like y’were made fo me,” he cooed, your reply dying in your throat when he pressed his lips to yours.

You bit each other’s lips and swirled tongues like you had done at the beginning of the night. After a minute of rough kisses, he pulled away, and you both gasped for air. You could tell his thrusts were getting sloppier, and his cock twitched inside of you like it had when you took him in your mouth.

“Was made for you, just you.”

“Thas’ my good girl.”

His hand instinctively reached for your throat, and you watched his cheek heat up when he realized what he had done. But you grabbed his hand and placed it back on your throat. “Please,” you croaked out, desperate for him to choke you and make you see stars.

He smirked and obliged, pressing on the sides of your throat but avoiding your windpipe. Euphoria overtook your body at the new found sensation and the knot that had formed in your stomach was threatening to come loose. The tightness in your stomach translated to your center, and you clenched tightly around Harry.

“Y’gonna come? Can feel y’squeezin me love, lets come together yeah?” You gave him a tiny nod of agreement, too weak from your impending orgasm to give him a better response. “Let go f’me baby.”

The knot in your stomach uncoiled rapidly, bursting inside of you and sending shudders throughout every inch of your body. Seconds later Harry released inside of you, his hot ropes of cum painting your walls. Your eyesight got blurry and white spots clouded your vision as Harry worked you both through your climaxes. You thought the orgasm he gave you at your appointment was strong, but this one sent you to another plane of reality.

His movements slowed and he removed his thumb from your swollen button, which you were thankful for due to your hypersensitivity.

When you finally came back to reality, Harry was above you, pulling himself out of you. You placed your hand on his cheek, diverting his green eyes to look at yours. “Stay in, please?” He simply nodded, pushing back into you fully. He was already hardening again, but who could blame him? Your face alone was enough to get him rock hard and leaking precome.

He rolled you two to your sides, cuddling into each other’s bare chests. You shared no more words, both of you drifting off to a blissful sleep within minutes. But you didn’t need to ask him to know that this was the first time you slept together, but most definitely not the last.

[quicksilverownsmysoul]

Take Me Home Tonight

Summary: Warren accidentally confesses to you and is forced to realize that he’s been in love with you for a while now. This is Evan’s warren lipka I just wanted to specify

Word Count: 2928

Warnings: None this is pure fluff, Warren being his usual goofy and incredibly hot self

You were having the time of your life right now, nothing was funnier than drunk Warren Lipka. He was the definition of a hot mess, one second he was grinding on some random lady on the dance floor and the next second he was passed out on the toilet, pants down and Spencer had to go and get him. You always volunteered to be their designated driver when they went out, you loved getting to see Warren like this. And because you would never get drunk in front of Warren, you knew you were a bold drunk and whatever you did he would never let you forget it. 

You scanned the room trying to make sure you had eyes on them. Spencer was snoring with his head down surrounded by empty bottles and various wrappers, he was sitting at a table towards the center of the bar and Warren was near the front of the bar. He was currently fighting with some woman over the karaoke machine. Warren wrestled the microphone from her and her friends cussed him out before he flipped them off. He took the makeshift stage stumbling on the last step. 

He squinted his eyes till he found you, you gave him a wave, water still in hand. He gave you a lopsided smile before pointing in your direction, pushing his hair back. “This one goes out to my girlfriend!” The crowd wolf whistled as they turned to face in your direction. You rolled your eyes.

“I’m not his girlfriend!” You shouted back with a laugh. 

“Yea but I wish you were!” He shouted back. 

“Wait what.” You felt your eyes bulge out of your head and turn to look at Spencer, he had the same shocked look on his face. You looked at him for an explanation and he just shrugged his shoulders, as clueless as you were. Warren whispered something to the guy running the machine and a second later Eddie Money started blaring out of the speakers, drowning out your attempts to call him off the stage. 

Warren bopped his head to the music, jerking his hips out, still pointing in your direction. “I feel a hunger, it’s a hunger, That tries to keep a man awake at night!” He began to sing and it was awful. He was basically screaming and his voice was raspy from all the alcohol. But he put up so much of a performance into the way he sang the audience didn't seem to care. He held eye contact with you slowly moving off the stage and towards you.

The spotlight followed his movements, the light creeping closer to your secluded corner of darkness. “Are you the answer?” Your heart pounded at the implication of his words and the way his eyes seemed alert. He continued singing until he was directly in front of you. He threw the cord around you and used it to pull you close, you stumbled into him catching yourself on his chest. He leaned forward, his close proximity making the hair on your arms stand up, he lowered his voice as he nudged the side of his head into yours. “I can feel you breathe, I can feel your heart beat faster…” 

He watched you with half lidded eyes, moving closer, his lips nearly brushing against yours, but before you could make contact he pulled away from you nearly causing you to trip over the cord as he yanked it back towards him. He danced back towards the center of the bar and jumped up on the table where Spencer was at. He threw his head back and screamed out the lyrics “TAKE ME HOME TONIGHT! I DON’T WANNA LET YOU GO ‘TIL YA SEE THE LIGHT!” 

He waved his arm in the air, signaling the crowd to sing along with him. He nudged Spencer with his foot and he began to sing along with the rest of the bar patrons. They were all drunkenly sighing along with Warren, their gazes locked on you. He moved his arms around madly jumping up and down on the table, going absolutely crazy. You laughed watching him thrust his hips forward, matching the beat of the song. He pulled Spencer on the table with him and they both began to drunkenly sing to you, your face hurt from smiling so widely. You took out your phone and began to record their little song and dance. You also took a picture of drunk Warren pointing at you and screaming be my little baby. He had nearly slipped off the table while doing it, so it was all blurry and his eyes were wild.  You made a mental note to make it your lockscreen later. 

He started up at the chorus again, this time him and Spencer belting it accompanied by the other customers. “TAKE ME HOME TONIGHT!” Warren jumped a little too close to the edge of the table and launched him and Spencer on the floor, knocking over the neighboring tables. You were doubled over in laughter, Warren hadn’t even stopped singing he just carried on as he laid on top of Spencer on the floor. 

The security guard walked over to the two of them and picked them up by their shirt collars. He tried taking the microphone from Warren but he just held it closer still signing into it, even though the music had stopped. The security guard looked at you and called you over. “Come get your boyfriend!” 

“He’s not my boyfriend!” 

“BUT HE WISHES HE WAS!” The bar patrons chanted together, remembering what Warren had shouted to you earlier. Your face burned in embarrassment as you want to collect them. Ripping the microphone from Warren’s hands as he whined and handed it to the security guard. The crowd cheered Warren on as you guys were escorted out, he bowed and blew kisses to the crowd. You had to drag him by his arm all the way to the car, Spencer just walked alongside you guys smiling to himself. 

You shoved Warren into the passenger's seat and he groaned as he hit his head on the roof going in. Spencer laughed at him. “Shut up!” Warren called reaching into the back seat. 

“Stop that!” You said, pulling him back into the front seat. You buckeld yourself in before starting up the car. “I can’t believe you got us kicked out of my favorite bar.” You scolded. You weren't really all that mad about being kicked out, you were more upset about the way Warren had said he wished you were his girlfriend. You knew that when Warren was drunk he would say and do just about anything so you learned not to take him seriously. But you had been crushing on him for years now and for a second you had felt a flicker of hope that he returned your affection. 

Warren just pouted with his arms crossed for a moment before playing with your radio flicking through the channels. He smiled when he heard the song he was singing earlier again. “Oh no not again.” You said reaching over to turn the radio off, he smacked your hand away and kept his own covering the buttons. 

“Warren.” You warned, glancing over to glare at him. He just smirked and started singing again. 

“Come on (y/n) sing with me!” 

“No.”

“I feel a hunger….” He leaned across to the seat getting really close to whisper in your ear. “Come on, you know you wanna sing with me. You know you wanna take me home tonight.” He slurred. You pushed him back into his seat laughing at his poor attempt at flirting. But it got you to play along. 

“Oh yeah, I’ll take you home tonight.” You said in an over seductive voice, reaching over to run your hand up and down his thigh. 

“Really?” He asked, biting his bottom lip. 

‘Yeah I’m gonna take both your asses home and make sure you stay there.” You pushed your hand into his chest knocking him back into his seat. 

He groaned, lulling his head to the side knocking it against the window with a soft bonk. “You’re no fun.” 

You winked at him. “I know.” You softly hummed the tune to yourself the rest of the ride home and Warrens smiled to himself at watching you. 

You dropped them both off at Warren’s place, he said his dad wasn't home so Spencer could crash there. Warren had nearly fallen down the stairs into the basement, but you caught him and propped him up. He blushed as you gently helped him lay down in bed and removed his shoes. You laid him down and he grabbed your hand as you moved to leave. “What, no goodnight kiss?” You rolled your eyes and moved back towards him. He closed his eyes and puckered his lips, you made him lay back down and settled for a kiss on his forehead. 

“Goodnight Warren.” He was glad the lights were off so you couldn't see how red his face had gotten from your simple kiss. He hadn't expected you to do anything at all. 

“‘Night.” 

Warren woke up in the middle of the night, needing to pee. As he was washing his hands he was hit with a full memory of what had happened last night. He stumbled out of his room and made his way to Spencer who was passed out on the couch. “Dude.” He shook him. “Dude wake up!”

Spencer jolted awake. “What do you want Warren?” 

“Did I do what I think I did last night?” Warren said slowly, his brows furrowed.

“If you’re asking if you indirectly confessed to (y/n) by serenading her with an Eddie Money song and then asking her to take you home tonight about a million times then yes.” Spencer curled back into himself hugging the blanket closer. He was always thankful when you made a bed for him. You always remember to give him a blanket and a pillow. Warren always forgot and he ended up having to use a newspaper or a couch cushion to keep warm. He turned back, opening one eye. “She also kissed you goodnight and left you a care package.”

“I’m sorry she kissed me?” Warren said, yanking Spencer's blanket away. 

“Yes.” Spencer said bordely, blindly fumbling for his blanket. “On the forehead idiot, you asked her for a kiss and that’s all she gave you.”

“But she kissed me?”

“Yes. Now give me my blanket back.”

“One more thing.”

“What?” Spencer groaned, trying to get his blanket back. Warren kept holding it out of his reach. 

“You said she left me a care package.”

“Yea, on the table.” Warren dropped the blanket back on Spencer and practically sprinted over to the table. “ But she left a gatorade for me too so don’t drink them both!” Spencer added before going back to sleep. There was a little wooden tray with a gatorade, an aspirin bottle and a whole bunch of little tricks to help with a hangover. He smiled at your sweet sentiment and downed some of the pills hoping they would ease his pounding head. He held the little care package in his hands, smiling at it unconsciously. You were always so thoughtful, you always took care of his dumbass and got him out of whatever trouble he managed to get into. You were always there for him when he needed you. He had always had lingering feelings for you but he’d brush it off as a crush, Warren Lipka didn't have “deep feelings.” 

But the longer he looked at the care package you left him and as he reflected on the events of last night he couldn't deny it any longer. “Shit.” He mumbled running a hand down his face. Spencer had turned to look at him. “I’m in love with her.”

“You're just now realizing this.” Warren tossed a pillow at him and Spencer batted it away. “So what are you going to do?”

“Nothing.”

“What?” 

“I’m just gonna hold all my feelings in until I die.” 

“Are you serious?”

“Deadly.” 

Spencer sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He yawned out his reply. “Just tell her you liked her like a normal person.” 

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“What if…” Spencer sensed the change of tone in Warren’s voice and he now had his full attention. “What if she doesn't like me back. I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

Spencer bit his lip, debating on telling Warren what you had told him. Warren noticed Spencer's suspicious behavior and his eyes narrowed. “You know something.”

“No I don’t.”

“Yes you do.” Warren plopped onto the couch beside Spencer. “Tell me.”

“I’m not really supposed to-”

“Tell me. Tell me. Tell me. Tell me. Tell-”

“Okay!” Spencer huffed. Spencer looked around as if making sure you weren't there to overhear him. “She told me that she likes you.”

“WHAT?” 

“Don’t yell, I still have a hangover.” Spencer groaned, pressing his fingers to his temple. He got you to take some aspirin, Warren followed.

“She likes me, since when??” Spencer bit his lip. Warren yanked his gatorade away. “How long has she liked me spencer?””

“Since high school.”

“WHAT?”

“Dude.” Spencer yanked his gatorade back. “I told you to stop yelling.”

“You knew that she liked me since high school and you never told me.”

“She made me promise not to tell.”

Warren glared at him. He wanted to be mad but the knowledge of you liking him outweighed his anger. “And you’re sure she still likes me?’

“Yeah.” 

“Positive? This ain't something I can't take a risk on. I need to be one million percent sure.”

“Yes.” 

“Yes what?”

“Seriously?” Spencer signed. Warren glared at him and he rolled his eyes. “Yes I’m sure she still likes you.” 

Warren went up the stairs of the basement taking two at a time and yanking the door open. “Where are you going?” Spencer called up.

“To go see her.”

“But you don’t have a car. And it’s the middle of the night.”

“I don’t care and I don’t need one.” Warren slammed the door shut on his way out. Spencer winced and went to lay back down. “That idiot is going to run there.” He grumbled.

You woke up to hear pounding on your door. You were still in bed and your roommate went to answer the door. She took one look out before slamming it shut. “Who is it?” You asked.

“Your hot friend.”

You got up and  opened it, Warren was on the other side, bent over and breathing really hard. “Warren?”

“Hey.” He wheezed out.

“Are you okay?”

“Mhmm.”

“You know it’s like 4 in the morning right?”

“Mhmm.” 

“Are you sure you’re okay? You’re really sweaty and you sound like you’re dying.”

“I’m good just give me a minute.” 

“Do you wanna come in?” Warren glanced behind you and saw your roommate leaning back in her chair, trying to see what was going on. 

“Nah. I-'' He took a deep breath before starting again. “I kinda want us to be alone for this.” 

You closed the door behind you and leaned against it waiting for him to continue. Warren stood back up, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face. He was all disheveled, still dressed in his clothes from last night. But his shirt was unbuttoned, exposing his chest to you, you did you best not to look. “So.” He started off, looking down at the floor. 

“So…”

“About last night.” Warren fiddled with the hem of his shirt. “I meant what I said.” He looked up to see your reaction, you were watching him with wide eyes silently asking him to continue. “I really like you, like a lot. And I have for a while now but I was too scared to admit it. I didn’t want to risk ruining our friendship.”

Your heart was beating out of your chest, you were pretty sure the whole dorm could hear it. “You… you like me?” 

“Yeah.” Warren rubbed the nape of his neck, his brown eyes staring into your own, waiting to see your answer. 

You smiled and glanced down at the floor. “I like you too.”

“Really?” His voice was hopeful, the edges of his lips curling into a smirk.

“Yeah.” You guys stared at each other like idiots with wide smiles on your faces. 

“So…” Warren started again this time a little more brave. ‘Would you maybe like to go out sometime?”

“I would love to.”

Warren pumped his first in the air. “Yes!” You laughed and went to open the door to your dorm. “As much as I love confessing to you in the hallway it’s the middle of the night. You should probably get back to bed.” He nodded. “So I guess I’ll see you around.” 

“Yeah, I’ll call you later to set up our date.”

“Okay!” 

You began to close the door before Warren rushed forward, he put his hands on the door frame, stopping you from closing it. “Wait! Can you uh, can you drive me home. I don't think I would survive running all the way back.”

“Sure.” you giggled, grabbing your keys and locking the door behind you. Warren smirked at you as you guys made our way down the hall. 

“So what you’re saying is you’ll take me home tonight.” He sang the last part, winking at you. You pushed his shoulder. 

“Don’t make me regret saying yes to going out with you.”

Taglist: @xxspqcebunsxx @coffeeandteaintheevening @kitwalkerangel @xmaximoffic @no-mercy-bby @evanmybeloved @livingmybestfictionallife

[somewhatgreatexpectations]

Writing’s On The Wall (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)

Hello, again! We’ve finally reached... Civil War! Loosely inspired by Sam Smith’s “Writing’s On The Wall”. Some of the actual dialogue from the film is used here with some adjustments. Let me know what you think.

Summary: How the reader and Wanda are involved in the events of Civil War. Will they be on the same side? Or will they have to fight each other?

“I want to feel love, run through my blood, tell me is this where I give it all up? For you I have to risk it all, 'cause the writing's on the wall”

Half a year had passed since you left the comfort of the Avengers tower and the path to healing had never felt more manageable. You should have known that wouldn’t last. Peace never seemed to last around you. 

You didn’t know what to expect when Fury called you out of the blue and told you to turn on the news, but it was certainly not what you saw. A quiet curse escaped your lips as you watched the news of what happened in Lagos play out before you.

For at least an hour you listened to them completely annihilate Wanda’s character and talk about her like she was a monster who couldn’t be controlled. A threat. That couldn’t have been further from the truth. She made a mistake – she was trying to help. You could only imagine how she was feeling.

The news continued to pile on the next couple of days which is when you caught wind of the Sokovian accords. The information being relayed to you in the form of a demand from one Tony Stark who said you needed to sign since you were technically still an Avenger. You told him you would need time to think about it because the fact of the matter was, you didn’t agree with it. Not that you actually told him the second part. 

Shortly after your phone call with Stark, Steve also reached out. Though he was reluctant to have to ask you for help when he knew what he would be dragging you back into. You agreed within seconds. Not only was it what was right, but Steve was your first lifeline. You’d always offer him help. You’d always stand by him. You had made a promise. That’s just who you were.

Due to some loose ends, you were the last to arrive at the parking garage Steve had designated as the meeting location. 

The sight of Wanda before you after all this time shocked you and rendered you immobile for a moment. 

As if she could sense your presence, she looked over and made eye contact with you, her eyes widening ever so slightly. You shook your head, you had healed – moved on. She wasn’t your focus anymore. The look in her eyes stuck with you though, it was something you had never seen before. You could feel her eyes follow you. Even after all this time, it slightly hurt you still.

Wanda, on the other hand, felt breathless at the sight of you. The one she thought she’d never get to see again. She could feel her heart beating so hard in her chest she was sure everyone in the area could hear it. It took everything in her not to run over to you, take you in her arms and never let go. Even after all this time, she missed you still. 

“Cap, what have you gotten yourself into now?” you questioned playfully, smiling brightly when Steve turned to look at you.

Despite the circumstance, Steve was genuinely glad to see you, to physically see how much better you looked after your time away rather than just hear it in a phone call. “Y/n. I hate how this is how we’re being reunited but it’s good to see you.” He pulled you into a tight embrace which you gladly returned. 

For the first time in her life, Wanda envied Steve Rogers. 

When he released you, Steve turned and addressed everyone else. “Alright everyone, go and get ready. Time is of the essence… And I can’t imagine they’re going to let us go easily.”

Before you could walk away, Steve threw a duffle bag at you with a wink before he walked off to put on his suit. You looked into the bag and noticed a sleek black outfit with blue and white accents. New gear, you thought to yourself, nice.

“Hi, Y/n.” you heard an all too familiar voice say softly from behind you. 

With only slight hesitation, you turned. “Hello, Wanda.” You greeted neutrally, proud of yourself for not feeling as broken as you once did at the mere sight of her. 

Wanda smiled slightly at you, her nerves at an all-time high from being this close to you once again. “I’m surprised to see you here. You look… good.” She said shyly. 

An amused smile spread over your lips. “Thanks. I thought I told you I’d always be on your side.” You said with a wink. The referenced conversation felt as though it had happened in another life. 

A pink hue covered her cheeks which you took note of curiously. “I’m actually glad you are.” She admitted honestly. “I’ve had a lot of time to think these last few months and it’s made me realize that I-“

“I’m genuinely sorry to do this, ladies, but we’ve really got to go.” Steve interrupted. Looking apologetically at Wanda who appeared disheartened.

You waved your hand dismissively. Allowing yourself to get invested in even just a conversation with Wanda wasn’t something you’d allow yourself. “Not an issue at all, Cap.” You replied lightly, pretending you didn’t see the way Wanda’s looked down dejectedly. In that moment you wished you didn’t know her so well.

Once you were all gathered, Steve separated you all into teams that would be spread throughout the airport, Clint and Wanda would be together, Sam would stay with Bucky and you would be with Steve. Scott would be waiting in hiding for when the perfect opportunity presented itself. Without knowing all the variables, it was difficult to form a perfect plan, but you all worked with what you had. Once that was settled, it was time to get into position. 

“Y/n.” Wanda took hold of your hand as you were turning to leave. “Do you think we could finish that conversation later, whenever that may be?” She asked hopefully. You took note of how she was holding her breath.

“Sure, Wanda.” You eventually replied, watching the way she breathed out graciously. “I’ve got to get into position now though, Steve is already out there.” 

Wanda lightly squeezed the hand that you hadn’t realized she was still holding. Awkwardly, you pulled it away. A short look of disappointed flashed across her features. “Be careful out there, okay?”

“You too.” You replied neutrally, this conversation was veering into dangerous territory. With one final nod you took off in a sprint to get into position, not seeing the way Wanda stayed behind for a moment. 

Even just the minor action made her aware of the fact that you’d changed, you used to always look back. She looked at your retreating figure with worried eyes until it disappeared from sight.

Almost as soon as you got into position, you could hear Sam begin calling you over the coms. “Y/n, go out to Steve, give them some numbers. Remember your points and the mission.”

“Haven’t been out of the game that long, Wilson.” You replied with an eye roll before heading out to where Steve was trapped.

The end of Tony’s speech caught your attention. “… in Clint, rescuing Wanda from a place she doesn’t even want to leave, a safe place-“ His words halted as you came to a stop by Steve’s side.

For a moment Tony just looked between you and Steve, obviously surprised to see you there. “And you brought the kid back into the chaos for this? To make her a criminal? Real nice, Rogers.” Tony quipped angrily.

Steve opened his mouth to respond when you beat him to it. “I can speak for myself, thanks. Hi Tony, good to see you again.” You matched his sarcasm with a mocking wave of your fingers. “If it means I can fight for what’s right then I’ll gladly join the fray again.”

“You heard her.” Steve replied with a small chuckle. 

Wanda couldn’t help but watch you with a small smile of admiration from her position. She truly missed being able to see this version of you. Always determined to do what was right. Clint shook his head in amusement at her but didn’t say anything.

From your place you could see Tony’s frustration grow as he addressed Steve again. “I’m trying to keep you from tearing the Avengers apart.”

“You did that when you signed.” Steve replied coolly.

Tony looked away before looking back at Steve, his anger more present. “Alright, we’re done. You’re going to turn Barnes over and you’re going to come with us. Now. Because it’s us.” He paused slightly. “C’mon…” he added, and you almost felt bad for Tony.

Over your coms you could hear Sam let you both know that he had found the quinjet. That’s when chaos ensued. Your focus was keeping Rhodey back from Steve when you saw Tony begin shooting at Wanda and Clint, with a flick of your wrist Rhodey sunk into the floor, completely encased in the concrete that was once flat underneath his feet. 

The sound of his suit slowly chipping away at the defense let you know that it wasn’t too damaging as you began running towards Tony, using your powers to propel you forward. That was until a truck got thrown right in your path and exploded mere inches from you. You ducked and rolled, jumping back up. “C’mon.” you mumbled to yourself. Noticing the red wisps that surrounded you during the explosion.

You made eye contact with Wanda, who’s eyes were worried as she lowered her hands, the red wisps that were lingering around you fading. You nodded in thanks, Wanda just quirked her lips up and nodded back.

“Sorry!” Scott said sheepishly to you over coms. 

You refocused and noticed the path to the quinjet clear for you all, each of you sprinting in its direction. 

The quinjet was quickly approaching as each of you sped up even more until a beam of light cut into the ground before you, effectively stopping you all in your tracks. 

“For the collective good, you must surrender now.” Vision said, his eyes on Wanda whose expression never changed. Each member of Tony’s team formed a defensive line in front of the jet. 

Both sides were in a stand-off, and it was obvious neither was willing to back down. “What do we do, Cap?” you questioned. 

“We fight.” Steve said without a moment of hesitation, determination clear in his eyes as he began running forward. Everyone else followed suit, both teams clashing in the middle.

The scene was so frenzied, and your focus was on fighting Tony with your powers that it wasn’t until Sam spoke over coms that you focused in again. You easily agreed with the plan that not all of you could make it out. It had to be Steve and Bucky. 

The sound of Wanda’s scream distracted you, thankfully Scott had also distracted Tony just in time. 

“Wanda!” You shouted on reflex already beginning to run over when you saw her fall to the floor, clutching her head. You were able to catch the building that was falling on Steve and Bucky with your powers for a moment before allowing it to crash down behind them. 

When you turned your attention back to Wanda, you noticed Vision come to a stop beside her and take her in his arms. The conversation between them looked intimate. She looked up from her place in his arms for a moment and met your eyes. Her eyes looked as though they were trying to convey something to you when they had suddenly gone wide as you felt a strong force make contact with your head then everything went black. 

When you finally came to your head felt groggy and achy, the way it did when Hydra used to run experiments on you. You tried to lift a hand to rub at your head when you noticed resistance and something cool around your neck. Out of confusion, your eyes shot open only to feel anxiety seep into your bones when you took note of the straight jacket that you were confined in and the collar locked uncomfortably around your neck.

“Hello?” you called, hating the way fear crept into your voice.

“Y/n. You’re awake.” You heard Wanda respond, relief obvious in her voice. You looked around for a moment trying to locate her voice when you finally noticed her across a brightly lit circular sort of area, in her own straight jacket and collar. Her eyes that were so bright before the battle now dull.

Fruitlessly you tried to use your powers to manipulate the walls of the cell to no avail. “Where are we?”

“They call it the raft.” You heard Clint’s bitter voice float through the walls. “We’re criminals now.”

The anxiety you felt began to overwhelm you as flashes of being tied up in a similar manner and watching someone you loved be harmed went through your mind. “How long have we been here?”

“Three days,” Wanda began hesitantly almost as if she wasn’t sure if she wanted to tell you more. 

Clint interrupted her. “They’ve been knocking you out each time you come to, even for a second. First, they doped you up. The last time they just hit you. They’re not big fans of Steve over here, you’re the closest they could get to him.” Anger was clear in his words. 

You thought you heard him mumble something about putting Wanda directly across from you, so she’d be forced to watch. 

Wanda looked resigned with purple bruising under her eyes. You were hesitant to ask. “What happened to you?” she shook her head.

Thankfully Sam answered for her. “They’re not big fans of her either. The one good thing Tony did was stop what they were doing to both of you.”

Before you could ask anything else, the sound of the door opening caught your attention, all of your attention it seemed. A moment later, Steve walked in, a relieved smile on his face as he took in each of you. 

“About time.” Sam said gruffly.

Without hesitation Steve began taking you each out of your cell and loaded onto the jet he had waiting. 

You were watching the prison shrink in the distance from the safety of the quinjet when you felt someone take a seat next to you. You didn’t need to look to know who it was.

“Do you think we can have that talk now?”

Part 8! Don’t worry there’s more to come, I’m just releasing one title ahead at a time. This part was semi-difficult to write because I didn’t want to add too much of the fight scene because then it would be extremely long and this was more of a set-up chapter for Wanda and the readers story. To establish where they are after separating and bring them back into each others lives. Anyway, as always, hope you all enjoyed! Comments and thoughts always welcome. :) (bonus points if you can tell me what part was referenced in this chapter ;)

[sadachmesarthim]

take four of “let’s see if this will format correctly”, my first bingo square fill: wrong number!

word count: 1.3k

content: lingerie, lewd photos, peter being a Certified Dumbass

nothing explicit (yet) but all of my content is 18+ only

link to inspo for what he’s wearing: here

This was all MJ’s fault, and no one could convince him otherwise.

She was the one that put her name and number in Peter’s phone. She was the one that encouraged him to leave Tony’s as Mr. Stark, because “it’s endearing” and “maybe he’ll think it’s hot” and “it’s not like you call him anything else anyway, what’s the point?” She was also the one that explicitly asked for the pictures. So yeah, this was all MJ’s fault.

It totally wasn’t on Peter to check which text thread he opened. It totally wasn’t on him that he closed his messages before seeing the little “delivered” notification pop up. It totally wasn’t on him for buying the entire Iron Man lingerie line.

No, this was all on MJ.

He’d spent an... exorbitant portion of his last check on the set - a cute lace bodysuit and garter belt in Iron Man red, with gold clasps and matching glittery thigh highs. It was honestly really cute, and he looked damn good in it, if he did say so himself. But it was true. Peter didn’t have anybody to show off for - he certainly didn’t have a boyfriend, and he’d be damned if Tony ever found out he bought it. He’d probably have to quit his job, get a new identity, move to Iceland, and even THEN the embarrassment alone would probably kill him. 

So of course MJ would demand photos. Of course.

“Okay okay, yeah yeah yeah FINE, will you at least let me SHOWER first? I feel disgusting and I smell like a garbage can.” Patrol always left him feeling some sort of way, and it was never good. Showering was quickly becoming his favorite pastime.

“Fine. But don’t you dare flake out on me. I expect those texts in no less than an hour. Love you, loser.” She didn’t give him time to respond before hanging up.

Peter looked down at his phone, exhausted. He loved MJ, he did, but sometimes she was just... too much. Like, for example - demanding to vet every single nude and lewd he took before he could send them to anyone. Sure, it helped - he’d gotten much better responses in the weeks since she’d started dishing out criticism. So no, it wasn’t like this was anything new or unexpected of them.

It just wasn’t like Peter to fuck it up this royally.

•|||•

He’d already taken a couple of pictures the day the set was delivered, but knowing MJ, it’d probably be best to have a variety. She was demanding, but she knew what she was talking about.

Peter dried off, making sure to be thorough. Lace didn’t feel good against his skin as is, but wet lace... ugh. Wet lace was the worst.

He stepped into the suit gently, careful not to stretch or tear the delicate fabric. These things aren’t typically designed for those requiring.. extra room up front. He wasn’t too big by any means, but he was clumsy enough to wind up popping holes in the crotch if his movements were anything but deliberate. He pulled the straps up, smoothing the cupless front over his chest. The deep red contrasted perfectly with his pale skin - it made him feel beautiful. The stockings definitely helped, too - his calves had filled out nicely since he began his vigilante work, and the glittery gold material did nothing but accentuate his strong curves. The garter belt was next - closing the clasps around his thighs and making sure they were secure around the top of his socks. They were just long enough that they didn’t pull or stretch when he connected everything, leaving him flawless in the outfit. He checked himself out in the mirror, running his hands down his sides and ass. Perfect.

Peter spent a solid fifteen minutes snapping pictures, warm evening sunset granting him perfect lighting. He got some from several angles - straight on, laying back, over his shoulder. MJ’s advice had allowed him to know exactly how he looked sexiest, and he took advantage of it.

By the time he was finished the sun had just finished dipping below the horizon. Time to go through and pick some for MJ. He wound up selecting 8 of his best, throwing them in his “favorites” folder before swiping up and pressing “share”.

See now this - this is where he fucked up. If he’d just taken a minute to actually see which contact he clicked, he could have avoided this entire mess. But no - he just typed a quick ‘m’, clicked on the first contact that popped up, and clicked send. There was definitely a flaw in design here, too - if Steve Jobs hadn’t been stupid enough to force close the messages app after sending photos... this wouldn’t’ve happened, either. Peter could have simply turned on airplane mode, deleted the messages, and everything would have been okay.

But of course, he didn’t do any of this, and after selecting Mr. Stark’s contact, and after sending the eight individual photos of himself in Iron Man lingerie... Peter locked his phone, changed, and went to the kitchen to grab dinner.

•|||•

Tony had seen a lot of things in his time on Earth - he’d seen plenty of men and women in plenty of different outfits - sexual or otherwise. He’d enjoyed some of them, even! But he never even thought to consider that Iron Man lingerie existed. Red and gold looked good together on metal, sure, but lace? Silk? Chiffon? He’d never thought about it.

Of course, not until he received some... very interesting photos from everyone’s favorite spidertwink.

Now... Tony wasn’t one to snoop without asking first. He’d never had an issue or scandal with consent. He prided himself on not being One Of Those Rich Guys™. But when he opened his messages with Peter Parker, and came face to face with the (apparently very grown up now) kid in a very scandalous ensemble... he’d be lying if he said he didn’t stare.

To be fair, Peter looked fucking delicious. Tony sucked in a gasp the second he saw it, arousal burning through him almost immediately. What the fuck? He hadn't attached anything else - no text, no explanation. No indication as to who the photos were meant for. Obviously they weren't for Tony... right? Then again... Peter was in his colors...

So Tony decided to be a bit brave.

•|||•

The smell of leftover fried rice and soy sauce was enough to have Peter's mouth watering. Patrol had always left him hungry, so he rarely waited to get back to his room before digging in. Tony, bless him, had paid for a one bedroom while Peter was away at college. He always made sure Peter had a thoroughly stocked fridge and pantry, and it served him well on nights like this. He ate his fill and cleaned up before returning to his room. He needed to put the suit and his lingerie away, tidy up his bathroom, prepare for his organic chem midterm...

His thoughts were interrupted by several quick dings from his phone. MJ must have finally responded.

Peter's blood ran cold when he swiped to open the unread message.

Where the fuck are my pictures, loser? I thought I said an hour.

He nearly dropped his phone. Sure enough, there were no photos sent recently in their text thread. Peter's mind ran a mile a minute - who the fuck could he have sent them too?? May, of course, wouldn't say anything - she probably hadn't even seen them yet, her shift had just started. Maria would probably slap him the next time she saw him, and leave it at that... but, oh god.

Oh god. Mr. Stark.

Peter quickly swiped over to the rest of his conversations, fear immediately confirmed: he had, indeed, just sent his boss eight selfies in the most scandalous outfit he owned. Even worse...

Read: 8:02pm

Oh fuck.

(• • •)

Oh fuck.

Not that I’m complaining, but are you sure these are for me?

Oh fuck.

[jihyuncompass]

A Little More Interesting

Welcome to Kinktober 2021! While this is my first time participating I’m very exited to give you some treats and spice to add to your Starbucks drink and Halloween candy. Now. Without any further ado, welcome to the first fic of the month. 

Kinktober 2021. Week One 

Marius x MC

Word Count: 4.3k 

NSFW. Only read if 18+

Tags Below the Cut 

Warnings/Tags: Collaring, Vaginal Fingering, Public/Semi-Public, Toys

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

“I have a couple things for you,” Marius said after pulling into a parking spot. You glanced up from your phone, Marius’s eyes were on you. A glint in his eye that made it clear that he had something on his mind. Setting your phone aside, your attention went to him. Noticing your attention on him he smiled then reached for the bag in the backseat. 

He handed the bag over to you, dropping it into your lap. After giving him another odd look you reached back into the bag to find it’s contents. 

Marius’s gaze was locked on you as you pulled out what looked to be a jewelry box, too big for a ring but probably about the size of a necklace. Holding the box in your hand your gaze went back to Marius. His brow was arched, like he was waiting to see your reaction. Feeling around the box you started to pull up on the top. 

“Wait.” Marius said, his hand resting on the top of the box. “Before you open it.” Your hands stopped, eyes returning to him. “We talked about this not too long ago, but if you don’t want it. You don’t have to accept it.” 

His words only grew your curiosity, opening the jewelry box. Inside lay what a t first looked like a typical necklace. A simple silver chain with a ring in the center. Within the ring, a small purple gem. Simple, yet elegant. The realization didn’t hit until you lifted the piece out of the box, noticing the clasp on the end. Two small rings connected by what looked to be a small lock.

“You don’t have to wear it.” Marius said. Any previous show of confidence had fallen away. “If you don’t want to or you feel you’re not ready.” 

Holding it in your hands you considered it, knowing Marius it was likely custom made. Designed for you specifically by him. You could just imagine Marius, choosing the details on the silver chain, picking the perfect gem to match the color of his eyes. The lock on the clasp, small but by looks of it rather strong. 

“You have the key for it?” You asked him. Seemingly stunned by your sudden question Marius nodded quickly but took an extra second to find his voice. 

“I do.” Marius reached under his shirt, pulling out a similar silver chain to the one in your hand. At the end, a small silver key. 

You didn’t require much more time to consider it. Taking another moment to admire it, you handed it to Marius. Who was watching you intently. 

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” He asked. 

“Yes.” You said, putting on a smile to show your honesty. “I trust you Marius, and I want this.” 

Marius took the key around his neck and quickly unlocked the tiny lock at the clasp. Adjusting in the seat you let your back face him. Moments later his hands put the subtle collar around your neck. Closing your eyes you focused in on the feeling of the lock clicking closed. The light but present pressure where the collar rested against your neck. Marius’s hands rested on your shoulders. Urging you to turn. 

“Well?” You asked him after you turned. At first he went speechless, ears turning red and voice lost. Then after a moment, when he’d been able to fully take you in, his expression shifted. His eyes narrowed and darkend, his lips pulled into a smirk. Playful yet mischievous. 

His fingers trailed from your shoulder to your neck, his fingers running over the silver chain. Leaning close to whisper. “It’s perfect.” His hand stopped at your jawline, pulling you into a kiss, his warm lips taking your’s, sending a warm feeling down into your abdomen. Breaking away from the kiss he leaned in, whispering against the shell of your ear. “It’s also the perfect reminder. That you’re mine.” 

“I am yours.” You whispered back, holding his face in your hands. “Always will be.” 

Marius smiled, his gaze full of warmth and adoration as he looked at you. Letting himself watch you for a moment longer he pulled away just the slightest bit. 

“There’s one more thing in the bag.” He said, motioning to the bag still resting in your lap. Letting your hands drop from his face you reached in for the second item, a larger box than the last one. 

Your mouth parted in a brief shock. Your face instantly flushed bright red. 

“These events are always so boring.” Marius said. “I thought this might make it a little more interesting.” 

Interesting was one word for it you thought as you held the box for a remote controlled vibrator. You’d seen these online and in other things but never in person, you turned the box over in your hands. The flush on your face was growing worse by the moment. 

“Well?” Marius asked. 

“You really think this is a good idea?” You questioned. 

Marius smirked. “Thought it could make the night a little more interesting, that’s all.” Marius winked, looking away from him you looked at the box in your hand. The idea seemed outrageous, it wasn’t appropriate and it could cause trouble for the both of you. 

But also, you couldn’t ignore the heat growing in your lower abdomen, and the excitement sparking through your nerves. Considering the box you pulled out the device, thumb brushing over the soft silicone outside. 

Marius leaned in, the smirk briefly disappearing from his face. “We don’t have to.” Glancing between Marius and the toy you weighed your options. 

“We can use our safe word?” You asked. 

“Of course.” Marius responded in complete seriousness. “Still paintbrush, right?” You nodded. 

Taking a breath of courage you fully removed the toy from its packaging, turning it around in your hand to get a feel for it. “Did you happen to bring any lube with you?” 

“Dammit.” Marius cursed. “I knew I forgot something.” He ran a hand through his carefully styled hair, messing up some of the strands. He hastily glanced around the car, hoping maybe he could find something suitable. 

“It’s okay.” You said, stopping his frantic search. “I can just do it the traditional way.” 

“Traditional way?” Marius asked. Before you answered you’d set the toy on the console, your hand reaching between your legs, pushing aside your clothes to get where you wanted to be. “Oh.” Marius said. “That way.” 

You smirked to yourself as your finger ran against your slit, already growing wet from just your thoughts alone. Your finger circled your clit, forcing you to take a sharp breath in, your finger rubbed on the sensitive nub quickly growing swollen by the sensation. 

As your fingers moved downwards, towards your core already beginning to ache you felt Marius’s eyes on you. Throwing him a glance you happily took in his flustered face while he watched you, 

“What’s that look for?” You cooed. “Do you want to help?” 

He cleared his throat, then nodded. Trying to keep his cool as he shifted his position. You pulled your own hand away as his hand traveled down your thigh to your core. Leaning back in the seat you readjusted your hips to get a better angle for him. 

Your eyes slipped closed as his fingers ran over your slit, collecting the wetness as he moved. Biting your lip you attempted to savor the feeling as he started down towards your entrance. Careful to use the fingers without a copious amount of rings he let one finger slip in, then a second not long after. 

Marius wasted no time, his fingers already pumping in and out of you as his thumb made quick circles around your clit. You didn’t hesitate to let moans fall past your lips, each sound only making Marius go faster. 

“Marius-” You said, forcing the name past your lips. 

“Hm?” Marius answered. 

“I think-” You paused to let another wave of pleasure pass. “I think I’m ready for it.” Marius slowed his hand, letting you reach for the toy you left on the console. 

He took the toy from you, using his other hand to angle it while his other hand pulled out of you. Using the remaining arousal coating his fingers to smear it on the tip. He looked back to your face, checking your expression. 

You nodded at him, giving him the confirmation he needed for him to push the toy past your folds and inside you. Swallowing thickly you groaned from the pleasant stretch, taking some moments to adjust to the new feeling. 

“How’s that?” Marius asked, hand resting on your upper thigh. 

“It’s good.” You readjusted your clothing, sitting up straight. Heavily aware of the toy now fully inside you as you sat in the seat of the car. Looking in the mirror you fixed your hair and straightened out your clothes. 

Marius put the vibrator box back into the bag, tossing it back into the backseat. Straightening himself out as you did. The two of you took a moment to collect yourselves before exchanging a glance. 

“Ready to go in?” Marius asked. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” 

-

Tonight’s event wasn’t anything special. Especially not in comparison to some of the other events you’d attended with Marius in the past. As always the drinks were overflowing and the food while of good quality not bountiful in quantity. Following your partner you made the rounds to the copious amounts of well dressed business associates Marius knew. 

“Oh my that’s such a beautiful choker you’re wearing.” One woman said to you, motioning to the accessory on your neck. In the corner of your eye you noticed how Marius smirked to you. “Where’d you get it?” 

You were about to speak when Marius spoke first. “It’s custom made.” He explained, focused on the woman speaking you missed Marius’s hand slipping into his pocket. 

“Well it’s absolutely beautiful.” She said to you, then turned to Marius. “I must get the name of your jeweler.” 

The sudden jolt of the toy nearly made you gasp, clearing your throat to avoid making any other sounds. Inside you the toy vibrated aggressively against your walls. Shooting Marius a look, you  cleared your throat again. 

“I’m sorry I think I need a drink.” You apologized. “Please excuse me.” Stepping away from the conversation you bit your lip, the vibrations grew slowly in intensity as you walked towards one of the servers carrying a tray of glasses of wine. 

While you walked back towards Marius the vibrations slowed to a stop. Marius’s hand leaving his pocket to shake someone’s hand. Breathing a sigh of relief you rejoined him, although the mischievous glint in his eye remained. 

“Doing okay? You look a little red.” Marius teased after the others had walked away. Pressing your lips into a thin line you ignored him, even as he took your hand in his, and his other hand slipped back into his pocket. 

You braced yourself, waiting for him to start the vibrator again. However he just winked at you, leading you towards another small gathering of people. Putting on his business smile as he approached. 

These conversations were usually nothing you found particularly interesting, this one included. You listened as Marius talked about business with one of the older men. Discussing PAX’s latest ventures and asking about one another’s families. You sipped at your wine while they spoke. Usually being just the littlest bit tipsy during times like this made the small talk bearable to get through. 

“And what about you?” The man Marius had been speaking to asked you. “What do you do for work?” 

“Oh I’m-” Your sentence was cut off by the return of the vibrations. You collected yourself after a moment, pushing through the increasing setting of the toy. 

“Are you feeling alright?” The man asked. “You look a bit overheated.” 

“I’m fine. Thank you.” You said, digging your nails into your hand to keep your composure. “It’s a bit warm. That’s all.”

 You carried on with your conversation, fighting the pleasure very quickly spreading through your boy as you talked. Marius was enjoying this, that you could easily tell. His expression showed how obviously he was undressing you with his eyes, and between the toy inside you and the pressure of the collar around your neck you were starting to find it difficult to keep your composure. 

The night continued this way, with Marius routinely turning the toy on and off as he pleased. With each cycle of it making it harder and harder for you to keep control of yourself. You already could tell your face was red, your knees getting shaky from how he’d started to get you close before turning it off again. 

After a while you’d convinced Marius to sit down with you at one of the tables in the venue. Marius held your hand as you watched others flutter around one another in conversation. All the same typical business chatter, what everyone was doing, new business plans or partnerships, maybe a mention of a spouse or children. 

“Do you want more to drink?” Marius asked, motioning to one of the servers. “I could get you another glass.” 

You shook your head, you’d already drunk enough to be pleasantly buzzed, but considering your current state and the way Marius was still looking at you, getting any more intoxicated would probably be a bad move. 

“I didn’t expect to see you both here.” A voice said from beside you. Turning your head, your mouth fell open as Artem walked up to the two of you. 

“Oh hey.” Marius said. His tone gave away a slight annoyance. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“I had a client invite me along. Figured I’d accept the offer.” Artem said. He smiled at you softly. “It’s good to see you. I hope you’re enjoying yourself?” 

You matched his smile. “I am. Are you?” You asked. Artem pulled up a chair to sit next to you, your eyes on him instead of Marius you didn’t think much about the way he was looking at the two of you. 

“I’m usually not one for events like this, but it’s been pretty nice so far.” Artem said, nursing a glass of wine in his hand. You nodded thoughtfully. 

“I’m not really a huge fan of these either. The food and drinks definitely make up for it though.” You said. 

“Based on what I’ve had here, I think I’m inclined to agree with you.” 

You were about to speak further when your voice was caught in your throat. Marius had

turned the toy on again. This time at a higher speed than he had ever set before. Pressing your lips together in a fine line you attempted to breathe through the waves of pleasure pulsing through your body. If you looked uncomfortable at least Artem didn’t seem to notice as he carried on with the conversation. 

“How long are you both planning on staying?” Artem asked, sipping on his wine. 

“I’m not sure.” You said, crossing your legs to try and keep the intensity controlled the best you can. “How long are you staying?” 

“Not for long I hope.” Artem said. “I have some work I want to work on tonight.” You nodded, your nails digging into your knee as Marius turned up the vibrations again. Biting your cheek as you fought back the sounds you wanted to make, keeping yourself as still as possible so your knees didn’t shake. 

“Y-yeah.” You agreed, voice cracking. “Especially with that case we just got.” You said, having to force yourself to say every word while the intense pressure in your abdomen grew bigger and bigger, heart beating faster, and face getting more hot by the word. “I did look at the case files earlier but-” You took a breath to catch yourself. “I didn’t get a chance to spend much time with it.” 

Artem set his wine glass on the table. “If you’d like we could meet and go over the details of the case. There is a lot to keep track of.” 

“Oh that would be great-” The sudden increase in the speed of the toy made you stop, covering your face with your hand. Feigning a coughing fit to distract from how your whole body was shaking and how it was becoming impossible to keep yourself together anymore. You were getting so close, so close so- 

“Do you need something to drink?” Artem asked, leaning close to try and see your face, you coughed harder to keep your face hidden, nodding frantically. 

Just as Artem stepped away to find something for you to drink you shot Marius a look, he was smirking clearly proud of himself and the mess he was making you. 

“Awful coughing fit you’re having there.” Marius teased. 

You squeezed his thigh. “Paintbrush.” You said. Within a second the toy was off, and Marius took his hand out of his pocket. His smirk disappeared, replaced with concern. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, moving closer. 

You nodded after a second. Marius rubbing your back. “It was just too much right now.” You whispered. Marius nodded, understanding. “Thank you for stopping.” 

“Of course.” Marius said. Artem returned, a glass of water in his hand. Quickly handing it off to you. After several long sips you set the glass down, giving yourself time to collect yourself. 

“Better?” Artem asked, concern written all over his face. 

“Yes, much better.” You answered, sitting up straight. “Thank you.” You sipped at the water, feeling the flush in your face going down. Marius’s hand remained on the small of your back, his thumb rubbing small circles. 

After finishing the glass Artem brought you glanced back at Marius. He’d been watching the rest of the party but quickly turned back towards you. 

“Are you wanting to go?” Marius asked you, voice low and soft. 

“I think so.” You said, finally gaining your strength back. “Besides, we have something to do.” You smirked at him, his face completely changing as he realized what you were thinking. 

“Oh that’s right.” He said. “We did have something to do.” 

You both rose from your seats, even with the toy off your legs were still shaking, your whole body struggling to keep upright. “I’m sorry to leave just after running into you.” You said to Artem. 

“It’s alright, I’ll probably leave soon myself.” Artem stood to match you both. “Get home safe. Both of you.” 

After saying a proper goodbye, you both hurried out of the venue. Holding tight to Marius’s hand as you hurried back to the parking lot. 

The second Marius’s car came into view you headed straight for the backseat, hastily opening the door and pulling Marius inside with you. 

“What-” You cut Marius off by kissing him. Pushing him against the seats as you moved to straddle his hips. His hands went immediately to rest on your hips, pulling you closer, Your hands held his jaw. Forcing him to stay close. 

You only pulled away when you needed to breathe, Marius staring at you a bit stunned. 

“You’re eager.” He said, finding his voice. You frowned, leaning in close. 

“And who’s fault is that?” You shot back, kissing him again. Your lips moved against his, pulling him in further and deeper. Marius’s hands moved downwards until he was holding your ass, digging his fingers in as you groaned. 

Breaking away from his lips you moved to press kisses along his jawline and his neck. Seeking that sweet spot you knew he liked you to pay attention to. As you did so your hands moved to his waist, searching for his pocket where he kept his phone. 

“Mmn..” Marius moaned as you found the sweet spot, although not unaware of your hand as if reached into his pocket. “Whatcha looking for babe?” He asked, pulling your head away from his neck. 

“You know what I’m looking for Marius.” You went back to reaching into his pocket until Marius’s hand around your wrist stopped you. His mischievous look returned, sending a twinge of excitement straight to your core.  

“You want more?” He whispered into your ear. 

“Yes.” Marius’s fingers traveled towards your neck, fingers brushing against the collar still locked tightly around your neck. “Please Marius.” You asked. 

Marius hummed, pulling his phone from his pocket. “I’ll turn it on. But.” He started. “We’re doing this my way.” 

Before you could even answer Marius pulled you off of him, readjusting so his back was against the car door, legs laying across the seats. 

“Come here baby.” Marius said, leading for you to lay with your back against his front. You gave him a strange look over your shoulder while you laid against him. His arm around your waist to keep you in place. 

You watched as Marius opened the app he’d been using before. Waiting not-so patiently as he slowly started to turn it back up again. 

A loud sigh of relief escaped you as the vibrator started, watching as Marius slowly turned it up. 

“Faster.” You whispered. “Please make it go faster.” Marius shook his head as pressed a kiss to your temple. Savoring every moment as you whined against him.  “Marius, please.” 

After another long agonizing moment Marius obliged, turning up the intensity just the smallest amount. Enough for the sensations to be pleasant, but not enough to satisfy you. You needed more than that. 

“You’re so pretty like this.” Marius said. “All bothered and begging.” The hand around your waist moved up, cupping your breast. You groaned, head falling back against his shoulder. Closing your eyes you press your legs together, hoping to maybe get more sensation than the cruelly low setting Marius had the toy at. 

Marius used the hand with his phone to part your legs. “Let’s not do that, remember I’m the one in charge right now.” You whined, your eyes squeezed shut, you were going to go crazy like this. 

“Please turn it up more. Please.” You begged. “Please.” 

Marius considered you for a moment, your face was getting flushed already, you looked so perfect like this, like putty in his hands. If he really wanted to he could keep you like this for hours, but you also looked so beautiful, and he struggled to refuse you. 

He turned up the speed, leaving you gasping. It was high enough now that you couldn’t stop the moans from leaving your lips. Your hips ground down against Marius below you, seeking something, anything more to make you feel good. Behind you Marius groaned, turning up the toy even higher without another thought. 

“Marius oh god-” You cried out. “It’s- ugh-” The waves of pleasure were getting more intense, rising in pressure as you felt it start to swell in your abdomen. You weren’t going to last, you were so close. Just a little bit more is all you would need. 

“Are you close?” Marius asked. 

“Y-yes!” You said, your hand gripping his wrist so tightly you thought you might break it. “Please I’m so close I’m-” 

You cried out loudly as Marius turned down the vibrator, returning to a setting just barely enough to feel. 

“Why?” You asked. “Marius-” 

“You’re mine right?” He said. His hand moved from your breast to your neck, fingers tracing the bottom of your collar. 

“Marius.” You looked at him over your shoulder. He stared into your eyes, he looked like he was seeking something in you. Something that you’d only seen when he needed your reassurance. “Of course I’m yours. I’m only yours.” 

“Good.”He whispered. Marius kissed you, pulling you closer against him. With your eyes closed you were hardly focused on anything as with his one hand Marius turned the vibrator up again. You gasped into the kiss, pulling away a moment later to moan and looking back at his phone. Slowly he was turning it up, approaching the level it’d been at during the party. The point where you hadn’t been able to keep yourself collected anymore. 

Now you didn’t hesitate to moan. You couldn’t even care if people could hear you outside this car, right now you just needed to feel good. That’s it. 

Your eyes closed as you focused on the feeling, the white hot pressure that was at its breaking point inside you. Just a little more, just another moment, just another-

One last boost in the speed was all it took. You screamed in pure pleasure as your back arched, your entire body tensing as the pleasure exploded inside you. Your body shook, eyes shut and voice going hoarse from how loudly you’d cried. 

Marius turned the vibrator off a final time as you slumped against him, chest heaving as you caught your breath. A layer of sweat coating your skin, as your hands shook. Your eyes stayed closed, even while Marius pulled aside your clothes to remove the toy, covered in your slick. He smiled at the sight. Your eyes opened just enough to see it, before shutting again. 

Setting the toy aside Marius wrapped his arms around you, kissing your neck and jaw. “You did so good, baby. I love you.” Marius whispered. You smiled, too exhausted to say anything. 

You laid there like that for a long while, Marius pressing kisses wherever he could reach, your eyes closed while you gathered your strength again. 

“Let’s go home.” You said. “I think you deserve a little something tonight too.” 

Marius smiled. “Are you sure? I bet you’re exhausted.” 

“I’m sure.” You said, sitting up fully. Marius sat up with you, looking at you with those adoring eyes you were completely obsessed with. 

Marius’s hand brushed against the collar on your neck. “Do you want to keep this on? I can take it off if you want?” 

You shook your head. Taking his hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “No, I like it. I want to keep it on.” 

Happily, Marius accepted your answer. Helping you out of the back and into the passenger seat. Ready to go home for the rest of the night. 

[hes-writer]

All Too Well

Summary: right person, wrong time

Warning: sweet fluff and angst

Word Count: 4519 words

A/N: listen to ‘All Too Well’ by Taylor Swift first as there are some references throughout the fic. I also added time stamps as this occurs over the course of one year. I’m sorry if it’s confused—I tried my best to make it as coherent as possible ❤️

also, covid doesn’t exist in this au!

‘~~~’ = flashback, ‘—‘ = cut scene

November 2020

Y/N scrambled through the many articles of clothing sprawled in her drawer. The fabrics mingling with each other into a giant mess. It didn’t even include the pile of clothes sitting on the mattress and dripping on the floor.

That was the thing with Y/N. She had a habit of keeping things she didn’t need. She wasn’t a hoarder—although, Y/N did keep more things in favour of their sentimental value. It was her thing.

The fact that she could cradle a t-shirt in her palms and tell someone exactly what happened on a day that moulded the story of that specific shirt was her skill. Y/N liked to think that you could tell a lot about a person on what kind of clothes they wore—whether they were seeking affection or isolating, but not lonely.

In fact, her clothes didn’t just hold meaning for herself—it catered pieces of places she went to wearing the outfit. The things she thought of while adorning it, the emotions that she felt as it covered or—barely—shielded her skin. It was especially important to her to remember the people she spent it with.

Like that oversized, knee-length coat hung near the back of her closet. Y/N barely wore it now but seeing it beneath the splayed doors of the wardrobe, she could see flashes in her head about the last time she had worn it.

The way the pea coat flowed behind her as she twirled in a gentle circle, twisting the fabric slightly and catching tiny drops of littered snow. Y/N could picture the bulbous hat she wore on her head. A tiny pompom weighing every which way with the direction of her head. Her hands were in warm mittens that rendered her fingerless. The snow boots on her feet were crunching with every step of the crisp white snow beneath her feet.

It was truly a winter wonderland when the white weather sprinkled down on her—on them.

Y/N could just about feel the same large grin replicating her face when she snapped out her memory. The ghost of the hung overcoat literally hunted her as it rested in the shadows of her closet.

Y/N blinked twice, slouching her shoulders as she stayed frozen on her knees. The carpet wasn’t doing much to protect her taut skin, but she was in search of something and intended to find it. Except, she couldn’t find it anywhere.

She was sure that there was absolutely no way that she could lose it. It was a loud patterned scarf that frayed at the edges. It was, quite possibly, the ugliest design Y/N had laid her eyes upon. Though, a certain someone had reassured her that she looked beautiful regardless. Besides, the air was way too chilly to think about fashion choices that day.

~~~

December 2019

“Why don’t you pose for me, love?” Harry suggested, holding his phone tightly in one hand. That same hand was pulled free of the warm confines of his leather gloves as he insisted on capturing a few photos of his girl.

“You got it, mister,” Y/N replied, bending down to ball a glob of snow in her mitten-covered hand. She could just barely feel the iciness radiating off the protective layer. “Mind if I add some props?”

She lifted her hand, a raised brow quirking up her knit beanie.

Harry chuckles, “Go right ahead,”

He tilted his phone, ignoring the way his fingers lost feeling at the fingertips in favour of watching the woman of his dreams throw the patch of snow in the air. He captured the picture, admiring the way her back looked. Y/N really was beautiful from all angles. It was kind of counterintuitive, really, since it was snowing after all. But Harry was way too enamoured to question the questionable actions of his lover.

Besides, the gleaming smile on her face was enough to wipe his mind clean of anything other than her.

“Great! Why don’t you turn around?”

The woman looked over her shoulder was a subtle roll of her eyes, “No way,”

“C’mon, love. ‘S not even tha’ ugly,” Harry urged, commenting about the scarf wrapped around her neck.

She scoffed, “The fact that you have to reassure me is proof that it is ugly,”

Y/N played with the thin ends of the fabric, smiling to herself as she heard Harry groan loudly behind her. They were staying at Gemma’s house for the holidays and Y/N had purchased the first scarf she had seen at the store. She had nearly forgotten it if it weren’t for Harry calling her the night before to ensure that she would be warm during their stay. Not only was it cold, but the chilliness was just a tad too crisp to leave the cozy home without some sort of neck protection.

So, here she was dressed all cute from head-to-toe except her shoulders. It was a bit stupid to care so much about an ugly scarf design but Y/N guessed it had something to do with wanting everything to be perfect.

“I don’t think it’s ugly,” Harry quipped, sounding much closer than he had before. “‘Think it’s really nice. Especially the cutie who’s wearing it. Mind if I borrow it some time?”

Y/N couldn’t help the appearance of her love-struck eyes, smiling again when she felt his bundled arms snaked around her waist. Harry was warm, as usual, and he was sturdy as a rock both literally and metaphorically. Standing still in the snow gave her a bit of a shiver but having Harry’s body close was a breath of relief.

He cradled her between his arms, resting his own scarf-covered chin on her shoulder. Y/N knew that he must’ve been bending at the knees to reach that height. She clutched his naked hand between her mittens, directing it to a pocket in the confines of her coat to keep warm.

“Are you talking about me or the scarf?”

“How about both? Make it a two-for-one deal, yeah?” Harry’s voice was a bit hazy.

He felt as though he was captivated in a trance, watching the snowflakes rest gently on the slope of Y/N’s lashes. Her eyes glancing at their joined, mittened and gloved, hands.

She sighed, “Why not?”

Harry gave a silent cheer, leaning little ways into peck her cold cheek with his lips.

“Alright, now why don’t ya’ twirl for me, Y/N?” He instructed, taking cautious steps back in the snow.

“Like this?”

Harry nodded, thumbing the red button on his phone to press ‘record’. He watched as Y/N gracefully spun in a circle. Her pea coat flailed just at knee-level. Her boots squelched the starch white snow.

She did a full 360 before fully facing him with a bright grin. Harry couldn’t be sure how much his heart could take. He switched the setting to capture a photo.

“Exactly like that,”

He wanted to remember this.

~~~

Upon realization that Y/N would not get hold of that specific scarf—at least not for a while—because it was at Gemma’s home miles away from her, Y/N forced herself to clean up the mess she had made. Maybe it was the sudden strike of sensitivity coursing through her but Y/N felt much more emotional than she did before.

Perhaps it was the match-strike ignition of burning memories that flickered through her brain because once she started; she couldn’t stop.

It started with the frosty memory of twirling in the deep snow. Then, it was the flashback of driving from the grocery store to pick up ingredients before heading back to Gemma’s.

Y/N couldn’t deny the butterflies she felt playing that particular memory back because it was one of the moments that cemented a deep-rooted emotion in her.

The feeling of being beautiful—captivating, charming and alluring that Harry failed to notice the red traffic light switching to a reflective green. (‘Oi! Eyes on the road’)

She could still see the blush on his pale skin, realizing that he had been caught staring. And, by the way, the car behind them honked when Harry failed to move through the intersection. (‘Sorry, got distracted’).

And Y/N didn’t want to say anything but she could feel his tiny glances over her when Harry thought that she wasn’t paying attention.

———

November 2020

It has been nearly a year now.

Only a few more weeks until the dreaded date looped around to a full year passing. This time, Harry wasn’t around to celebrate the festivities with her and that ugly scarf was an article that Y/N had desperately missed. Ironically.

It would be just under a year when Harry had taken Y/N to his childhood home—now Gemma’s house as Anne had moved to a smaller place. It was where he excitedly showed her his room—the posters on his walls. The comics he used to read and the CD’s he used to listen to piled on his desk.

~~~

December 2019

“Quite an improvement,” Y/N commented, sitting on the edge of his twin-sized bed. She was referring to his King-sized bed from when she had slept over a couple of times.

“I’d say,” Harry agreed. The wood creaked under his weight as he sat beside her.

They both stared at the wall in front of them, feeling a sense of intimacy as Harry shared the remnants of his life to her.

The day continued when Anne had called the both of them down for hot cocoa, paired with a striped red, green and white candy cane dipped in the mug.

This was the part that hurt Y/N the most. It was almost too painful to remember—to reminisce because it was proof that the couple were so close to making a future together.

It didn’t happen, though.

Despite Anne and Gemma’s stories about a once upon a time, dorky Harry in his glasses (‘He still is’)—his family couldn’t stop referencing Y/N as his future.

“Hope your kids don’t take after his naked habit”

“Maybe your garden will have wild roses”

“Reckon you guys will get a small home?”

It made Y/N’s cheeks heat up. His family already thought of her as part of their family. And one sneaky look at Harry ensured her that Anne and Gemma weren’t the only ones thinking of their future because Harry caught her gaze long enough to give her the answer she was subconsciously searching for.

And when salutations had to be said, Harry and Y/N said goodbye to Gemma and Anne as they were to return to their respective London homes.

It was also the day that Harry had asked Y/N to move in with him.

——

It was exciting, to say the least. Moving in with your significant other was a big step in any relationship. The fact that Harry was a world-renowned superstar almost disappeared from Y/N’s mind because even though his home was a million times larger than her tiny flat—it immediately felt like home.

Harry wasn’t one to dwell too much on changes. In fact, he often referred to it as a sign that things were moving forward. There was no use being stuck in the same place when the universe had so much to offer. So, he was quite glad when Y/N made herself comfortable in his—their—home.

She managed to make the large place feel cozy. The decorations and tiny trinkets she had placed all over the house were really just pieces of her heart sprinkled in a home in which they’d build a life together. He would look at a pastel-coloured tea kettle and question when he had gotten the appliance before realizing that it was Y/N’s. Harry would use the tea kettle to boil water instead of using his Keurig.

___

Their schedules wouldn’t always line up. But Harry and Y/N were too loved-up to care how little time they spent with each other. There was no use in complaining when they could use that time to appreciate each other—for sticking around. For being the same when things moved too fast. For being the rock that both of them needed when times get rough.

Harry’s late studio sessions ran through the early morning when Y/N would be cooped up in their shared bedroom. Fast asleep and hugging his scented pillow. Sometimes he would find her bundled with a blanket on the living room couch. The soft glow of the television highlighting Y/N’s beautiful features. One look at her was enough to release Harry of the tension he felt on his joints and shoulders.

Y/N’s night shifts were the same too. She would return to a quiet house because Harry had fallen asleep. Despite his attempts to stay awake, he was not a night owl at all. Not only to stay up past ten in the evening unless he was out to do work. She had reassured him countless times that she would be okay on the drive home and that he should sleep when his body grew tired.

Harry tried to stay awake. He really did. And Y/N could tell because as soon as she crawls to her side of the bed, Harry’s right arm immediately pats the cold sheets for her as if sensing that she was nearby. He would mumble a quiet murmur of her name, “Y/N? Tha’ you?”

He would receive no verbal response, nor would Harry be able to see his love in the dark of the night even because Y/N hadn’t bothered to switch her bedside lamp on. Y/N was aware of Harry’s sensitivity to light, especially if he was in the dark for a long period of time. Despite that, Harry would hum in satisfaction when Y/N’s body would etch perfectly against his in a silent greeting that yes it is her.

They would fall fast asleep cuddled into one another.

If they managed to stay awake or if sleep failed to come, Y/N and Harry would trudge down the stairs for a midnight snack, squealing loudly as one playfully chased the other down the staircase.

Sometimes it was Y/N walking in on Harry munching on a few biscuits (‘Not such a health nut anymore, huh?’). Sometimes it was Harry catching Y/N making a fruit salad—an array of fruits and vegetables laying on the counter (‘I take credit for this’, he would say.)

But it would always end the same.

With both of them dancing goofily with each other. The refrigerator light was the only source of illumination because neither would be bothered to turn on an actual light. Not when the fridge served as a light source and a container of a variety of edible choices.

One night would end with Y/N slow dancing in Harry’s arms. His hands-on her waist, grazing her skin when her pyjamas too lifted. Their bodies would rest against each other like a stacked jigsaw. Harry’s chin on her head, hers on his broad shoulder. A pair of their hands clasped tightly on one another while the other found purchase with their bodies.

Harry would hum a light tune or sing softly so that they can find their rhythm. They would sway across the kitchen—slowly—crying out in pain and laughter when one would bump their hip on the marble counter. Y/N would listen to his heartbeat thrumming beneath his chest and even though she could only see a bit of him—it was enough.

One night would end with Y/N and Harry goofily flailing their limbs every which way. Boisterous laughter filling the room as Harry practically wheezed at Y/N’s admittance of performing a mean Dougie.

And with the fridge light catching the bits of it, Harry would slap his palm on the counter to catch himself before his knees gave out below him (‘There’s jus’ no way you’re that good’). She proved him wrong.

Neither of them knew when it would be the last time these moments occurred. Until they stopped completely.

——

It was the small changes that brought them closer together. And what would inevitably drive them apart.

It was the fact that even though the couple didn’t see each other much, they still cherished the time they had together because that was enough.

The relationship was built off of mutual trust, respect and honesty. Time was essential but Harry and Y/N didn’t necessarily need a lot of it. They just needed the reassurance of ‘always’. That no matter what happens, however far away they were from each other physically, however, the time they spent apart—that Harry would always come back to her and Y/N would always run home to him.

——

It was late-August when they broke up.

Leading up to it, Y/N had been promoted at her workplace and Harry was no longer spending late nights at the studio. He was sleeping in the studio instead of coming home.

Y/N was understanding. He was on a time-crunch since his second album was due to be released at the end of that year. She wanted to be as supportive as she had always been—if not, more. Harry didn’t need more pressure from her—his partner—who was supposed to be his solid ground in a cracking centre.

It was okay. It was okay. It was okay.

It was fine that they were spending less time than they normally would—not that it was a lot in the first place.

He was still trying. She was still trying. Messages, video calls—hell, even emails were there. The rare times when their schedule would actually coincide were spent peacefully sleeping on the bed. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

Then, Y/N got promoted. More responsibilities. Training her colleagues. Interviewing assistants. Typing detailed emails. Double-checking spreadsheets.

At the same time that Harry was being pulled left and right to make decision after decision. Finalizing next year’s tour dates. Promos. TV shows. Modelling campaigns. Photoshoots. Interviews.

And like any other, answering later turned into a message left on ‘read’. A missed call manifested into an unopened voicemail. A desperate-measures email was only one of the many in each others’ inbox.

Harry wanted Y/N to come with him on tour the following year but it was a stretch waiting to be snapped.

She couldn’t.

Y/N was starting to build her life, building her career and she wasn’t going to give that up for him just yet. He could go on tour and she could visit when time allows. They knew that. Harry would buy her a ticket and she would be off to see him—when she can.

~~~~

June 2020

“I can’t go. You know that,” Y/N sighed, rubbing a palm over her face.

Harry leaned his shoulder against the doorframe of the bathroom. “I knew that. ‘Was worth a try though,”

They shared a comforting smile with each other. A hint of reassurance when uneasiness prevailed. There was something about the shift from spring to summer that simmered in their chests.

“Promise you’ll come to visit?”

“Of course,”

~~~

London may be Harry and Y/N’s home but LA was calling for him. Hence, why he spent the summer on the other side of the world. On another continent, across the pond, as some people might say.

It’s just a few months. He’ll be back before you know it, Y/N thought.

Harry will be home for the holidays and they would drive up north to spend it with Anne and Gemma as they did the previous year. The year when Y/N had met them for the first time and despite that, attained their approval to build a future with Harry.

Just a few months and then Harry will be back with her. The same Harry who will gently loop an ugly scarf around her neck. Teasing her about its hideousness before reassuring her that it was ‘as stunning as the woman wearing it’. . .or something. Harry always complimented her.

Yet, Harry never came home a few weeks shy before their scheduled road trip as they had planned. And Y/N did not visit him like she had promised to do.

Though, none of them blamed the other because they were too busy with their own lives to keep up with each other. What once was a loving and caring relationship was not a liability pushed to the back burner.

One might say that Harry and Y/N’s love was a case of wrong timing. They were perfect for each other—but just not now.

Because Y/N had a lot of things going for her and expanding her career. Harry was becoming more and more popular and successful by the minute. It wasn’t like they meant to ignore each other or be oblivious that they were still very much in a relationship with each other. Both Harry and Y/N just had a lot on their plate to even think twice about a relationship.

It wasn’t anybody’s fault—really. Even though their phone call says otherwise.

——-

August 2020

“Y-you what? Y/N, love,” Harry spoke through the phone.

Y/N’s breath hitched at the sound of the beloved nickname. It had been a while since she had heard it.

“I want to break up,” She repeated.

“Why?”

The woman picked at her fingernails, distracting herself from going back to the spreadsheet in front of her. She was in the middle of a break up yet her body urged to continue working.

“What do you mean why?” Y/N sighed exasperatedly. “It’s been months since we’ve seen each other, Harry. You said you’ll be home before Christmas so we can see Anne and Gemma but—,”

“We don’t have to see them! Y’can fly out here and spend it with me,”

“You know, I can’t,”

Upon letting those slip past her lips, Y/N was starting to question if Harry had disconnected because of the eeriness over the phone.

And as he said that night months ago with the alteration of Y/N’s word, “‘Know y’cant. You promised, though.”

Harry’s voice cracked and Y/N wondered if he was gnawing on his lip like he usually would when tears overflowed the ducts of his eyes. In the distance, Y/N heard a door close shut and she wondered if he had been working—the same as her—before she had decided to call and he had decided to answer.

A knife pierced into Y/N’s chest, guilt seeping in her veins as she recalled the words she had uttered to him. A promise that she would visit if he gave her the ticket. But that was then and this is now.

She wasn’t the head of her department then. Y/N had a lot more responsibilities now and she couldn’t just up and leave whenever she wanted to.

“And you promised to come back. Did you?”

He didn’t.

“Look, can we talk about this later? ‘M in the middle of recording and—“

“When are you not?” Y/N cut him off absentmindedly, splitting her attention on the Excel sheet in front of her.

“Excuse me?” Harry quipped, faintly hearing the clacks of a keyboard. “I know I work a lot but y’do too. Barely even respond to my texts anymo’”

“Says the one who doesn’t answer my calls,” Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes.

And there it was again. The defeat of silence that proved no matter how much they retaliated against one another—neither of them would win because both of them were at fault.

“I was busy,”

“I am, too,”

“Y/N—“

“What?”

“I-I don’t want to lose you. . .”

The ache in Y/N’s chest grew tenfold. Her fingers momentarily paused over the keys of her laptop board. There was nothing to lose. Not when they’ve already thrown it away.

“I don’t want to either, H. But don’t you think breaking up is better than waiting for something that will never happen?”

“What won’t?” He asked, genuinely curious.

Y/N pushed her chair back, staring at the view of the city from her office.

“Us. Our future. It won’t happen because you’re busy and I’m busy. There’s no right time for us to start, Harry.”

“Who says there has to be a right time, huh?”

“Says, everybody! How are we supposed to build our relationship further when there is no relationship to work on?”

The waves of emotion came crashing down. For months, Y/N had suppressed the feeling of loneliness inside of her. She missed Harry so badly that it hurt her to admit so she went with the temporary bliss of balling it up until it became too much.

“We just need time, Y/N. We don’t need to do it at the right time. Y’know that,” Harry whispered, wishing so badly that this conversation didn’t take place over the phone where he was currently locked in a bathroom stall.

He continued, “You were there, weren’t you? Barely saw you but y’were there. You know how I feel about you and I know you feel about me. We jus’ need time,”

Time.

Because time is when Harry and Y/N  would slow dance in the kitchen at god-knows-hour of the morning.

Because time is when Harry and Y/N blissfully spent their time in the cold, watching her throw the bundle of snow in the air as if it was in slow-motion.

Because time is when Harry would look at Y/N and swear that it has stopped because nothing else mattered except her.

“You know it, you know it,” Harry gulped, breath hitching over the phone. Was he crying?

“All too well,” Y/N responded underneath her breath. She knew that he was right—that all they needed was a chance to reconnect and rekindle the flame put out by distance.

She hated how familiar every memory was to her. She hated how easily she was brought back to the moment it all happened with just the breath of his whisper.

There was no denying the emotion she felt wearing his hoodie and red and black plaid pyjamas at three in the morning. The affection she received wearing those pieces of clothing from the man who owned them. Her sock feet glided against the cold floor. Everything came flashing back to Y/N and it hurt because there was no way she could grant his wish.

“You’re asking for too much, Harry. I-I can’t give you that. You can’t give me—us—that,”

“W-what are you saying, love?” He whimpered, clutching the device in his hand as a last resort to hold onto something that was drifting away.

He knew that she was right. Y/N couldn’t give him that and he certainly couldn’t either.

“We can’t be together. At least, not now. We’re not the same anymore. We want the same things but we’re headed on different paths,”

“But we’ll meet again, won’t we?” Harry’s hoarse voice exemplified that he was—indeed—been crying. And Y/N’s wet cheeks were proof that she was as well.

“Always,”

_____

[laketaj24]

Single in Staten Island: Tattoos & Kisses

Author’s Note: This is a three-part series I am going to do on Pete!! I am going to use the prompts I got in the second part! I talked with a friend about him—he does truly deserve a good girl or someone who won’t fuck him over. Taglist is here! Reqs are open, but I’m slow, no lie.

Warnings: None, just language.- Smut in the following parts.

Pairings:Pete Davidson x Reader

Masterlist

“What’s your order?” The chipper attitude they were supposed to have had left the day you turned in your two-week notice. This coffee shop had been the bain of your assistance. Fuck this place. Fuck these people and fuck their fancy, overdone ass orders. You leaned on the counter, giving the man in front of you a stern look.

He looked around. Clearly, you didn’t have an attitude with him. He’d just walked in the fucking place. “Uhm—,” his eyes found the menu, but there was an aloofness in him that triggered you.

“You’ve been in line ten minutes, and you don’t know what you want?”

“Yep.” He nodded and shot a smile. “Ten whole minutes. Still a fuck up.” His finger tapped on the counter, and he looked up at the menu. Nothing here looked worth seven dollars, especially not a coffee. “What’s good here?”

“Look, I don’t know. ”You sighed. “I’m about to go lunch, and you’re the last order.” You flourished the lack of customers behind him.

“You from around here?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Your attitude is pretty fucked up; I figured you lived up the block.” He took a pregnant pause and chuckled. “An Everything Bagel, jalapeño cream cheese, and a grande black coffee.”

“What’s the name?”

“Pete.”

“Spell that.”

“You can’t spell Pete?”

“You from around here?” You quipped.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I figured your name is probably spelled all fucked up and shit.”

He laughed, which was not what you expected; you just knew this was the gasoline added to a shitty fire. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“Kinda weird.” He shrugged. “You wanna go somewhere better than this on your lunch break?”

“Unless you have a gram and a beer, no.”

“I have a gram and some black coffee if the barista doesnt quit before she puts my order in.”

You snickered. “That’ll do. Where are we going?”

“Anywhere but fucking Staten Island.”

 The ferry. It hadn’t been in the plans, but you were happy you said yes to the lean stranger. He leaned against the railing, a cigarette in one hand a flask in the other. It wasn’t precisely beer, but you had no complaints. “You want a sip?”

“Sure,” You took the flask without hesitation and chugged down three gulps before passing it back to him. It was gin, dry grade A gin. “That’s the kind of shit you bring on a ferry?”

“I thought I grabbed my tequila, but I must’ve drunk it all.”

“Drunk at 2pm on a Tuesday?”

“I’m not drunk; I’m enjoying a drink. Judge much?”

You shrugged and turned, resting your back on the railing beside him, feeling the cool breeze run through your hair. “So why did you invite me out here?’

“You looked like you needed saving, and I’ve been there. Shitty job with shitty people.” He flicked his cigarette ashes into the water below him. “Plus, you cussed me out on the job, which means your kinda badass.”

“I like to think I am.” You admit and nod your head. “You ever get tired of doing the same old shit?”

“yep, that’s why I get tatted.”

Then you noticed the tattoos spackled across his body in random places, and they were once more in a random fashion. Yet, you liked them; they matched him, odd and somehow insanely attractive. “Pete, I want a tattoo. Take me to your guy.”

“What do you mean to take me to my guy? Does it look like I have a guy?” Pete laughs. “I’m like a god damn coloring book; let’s find the first shop and just do it. I pick yours… you pick mine. Stranger tats.”

“Why not?”

“Your boyfriend won’t appear and try to beat my ass?”

“Unless you’re imaginary, too, I think you’re good.”

‘Fucking Brickhouse like you, single in Staten Island?”

“Single in Staten island is not a rarity.”

“Well, you’re not wrong. It’s the only way to be.” He said with a bit of sarcasm.

 The conversation was random the entire ferry trip; you made wisecracks and rebutted, flirting with you but keeping his distance. “Tell me three weird facts about yourself.” You twiddled with your fingers and looked up to meet his brown eyes. “I’m sure you have more than three, but spare me the rest.”

“I like to be alone.” Pete looked back. “But I love a good party, but when I go, I hang out alone and watch people. People are interesting as fuck.”

“I find them to be boring.”

“That’s because you’re not looking for the right things.” He pointed to the woman about fifty feet away from the two of you. The older lady sat tired, sunglasses covered her face while the gray hair blew wild in the wind. “See Gladys there; she’s about to go home to a man she’s been with for thirty-five years. The best dick she ever had.”

Your face radiated with heat as you suppressed a chuckle. “Has to be to stay with it thirty-five years.”

“You haven’t had someone dick you down that makes you want to stay thirty-five years?”

“Not even make me want to stay a week,” You answered.

“That’s fucked up.” Pete smiled.

“That’s life, Pete. Unfortunately, people don’t always get good dick like Gladys.”

“Yeah, lucky bitch.” His phone rang, and he shifted, digging in his light denim jeans to retrieve his iPhone and answer the call. “It’s Pete.”

You turned, giving him some privacy and taking it all in. You didn’t plan to return to work, fuck that place and everything it entailed. You started a new job in three days; you’d take these three days to not give a fuck. That feeling started today; it started with your new friend Pete and this tattoo. The call ended after a few minutes; he didn’t talk about much, just a conversation with a friend and plans he had for a party later tonight.

“The shop is about five blocks from where we get off. Have you decided what I’m getting?”

“I want to see the designs first; I want it to be memorable.”

“Make it your number.”

“Is that your coded way in asking for it?”

“Not coded, I swear.” Pete leaned closer to you. “I kinda think if we are gonna get stranger tattoos, we should have each other’s number.’

“We won’t be strangers then.”

“Call them something else then.”

“I’ll let you know if you can have this number later… I haven't got an invite to this party yet.”

“You're totally invited.” Pete tossed his hands up. “Give me three digits.”

“847.” You snickered.

“Good, I guess I can work for the next seven.”

 The shop was grimy, with dark walls and low lights. The smell of weed and liquor hit your nose, and you felt at home for some reason. Your legs ached; the walking didn’t bother you usually but pairing it with walking didn’t do much good for you. You sat in the chair across from Pete. “Don’t make this a dumb tattoo.”

“You’re talking to the king of dumb shit.” He pointed to the small elephant; it wasn’t dumb, though. It had a feminine line design, and it was petite, adorable even. “I’m sparing you today. You’re getting this,” He smiled. “An elephant, not dumbo but a distant hot cousin.”

“I like it.”

“Good.” His smile was sincere. “I hoped you would. When is she up?” He asked the artist.

“I can get her now.” He answered as he started to sketch the elephant onto the transfer paper. “Hop up, sweet cheeks, and it’ll be about ten minutes.”

Pete extended his hand like a gentleman and led you to the red leather chair. ‘Ever had one before?”

“I have three.” You admitted.

“I see none.” He looked you over quizzically. “Not a one.”

“They are hidden….” You answered, choosing not to tell him they were down your chest and down your thigh.

“Secret tattoos. I like it. I can dig it.”

“Sure. Where is this party tonight?” You asked.

“Back in Staten Island.”

‘Can I trust you, Pete?”

“I hope so; I feel trustworthy?”

“You answered that like you didn't know the answer.” You shifted in the seat and pulled your shirt over your head. You revealed the tattoo of the moon phases going down your chest. “Just because you can't see something does not mean it isn’t there.”

“They're fucking awesome, like the person they are on.”

“You only think I’m awesome because you don’t know me.”

“I know enough.”

It was not like you to kiss a stranger because instead, you wanted to admit it or not, Pete was a stranger to you; you didn’t care. You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, and he responded immediately, kissing you back eagerly. His lips were soft, full, and applying just the perfect amount of pressure to yours.

“You two want to fuck or get this tattoo.”

You exhaled, pulling away from him. “Can we do both?”

To be Continued.

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