#starting with The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals and then Black Friday

[violetheart77]

[atoneofconscious]

I wanna write another Paul/emma fic that’s kind of like firewatch the video game but based in witchwood. Almost like a weird Magnus archive, park rangers, mystical realism Schtick.

[idkmanwtfishumanityanymore]

Sunburn/Swap Sun moment

[finelinefae]

bambi [ceo!h x shy!reader]

synopsis: y/n tries a dating app and meets the CEO of Pleasing

word count: 8.6k

contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, dating app, online dating, deer!reader, first date, first kiss, fluff, age gap (9 years)

a/n: this is the first part of a new series. as usual the first part is a lil slow to set things up but I'm excited for what's to come of this one. there's going to be a lot of cuteness and all the things i love writing about in this one so i can't wait to share more !

this is part 1 of Bambi, read part 2 here

. . .

Most of the time Y/N didn’t want to be in control of things. 

From a young age, she had to be in charge of everything. She had three younger brothers and was born to a single mother who worked hard to keep everything afloat in their tiny, townhouse. So inevitably she became an adult before she could even buy a lottery ticket. 

Her life wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t easy. With the constant nagging from her much younger siblings and the dampened sleeve of her t-shirt—evidence of the hours she spent comforting her mother through tears—Y/N had just had enough.

Her life had become an abundance of things she was struggling to keep up with. She had no reprieve throughout her daily life, no way of stopping or just letting go. 

She worked six-hour shifts at the supermarket, studied marketing at university, did the school run in the mornings, and often in the evenings too, if her mother was too tired to get off the couch. She tutored her youngest brother, who was falling behind in math, and kept the house in order while all three of them stayed glued to the television.

Even worse, her social life was practically nonexistent.. She was twenty-one and spent her Friday nights making dino nuggets and catching up on an incessant amount of laundry from the past week. 

Y/N wasn’t sure where her life was heading. The loneliness and stress was so overwhelming she could barely breathe. 

One night, the weight of it all brought her to tears as she thought about her future after graduation. Most of the girls she knew were planning gap years, travelling to places like Brazil or Italy. She tried to picture herself boarding a plane, but the only thing she could imagine was her mother calling mid-flight, asking her to pick up one of the boys from school.

She pulled open her phone eyes blotchy and nose stuffy from crying. Her loneliness was hitting her hard and she was desperate to feel some kind of connection, even if it was five minutes of conversation. So, she opened the only dating app she had on her phone, one that she’d installed many moons ago when she wanted to open herself up to meeting new people. 

She barely used it after realising she wasn’t the best at small talk and whenever a guy would ask for a date, her introverted self would refuse to step foot out of the house. But on occasion she’d find herself wondering, searching for someone to take her mind off of everything. 

Y/N swiped past copious images of men, seemingly unphased by all of them. She swiped through so many, that they almost began to look the same - 5’9, tanned, shirtless or lifting weights trying to show some kind of strength that proved to women they were most definitely ‘manly’. 

When she started to believe all hope was lost, she paused when her eyes settled on a man who didn’t look much like the others. He was tall, with brunette curls and green eyes that crinkled when he smiled. He wore rings on his hands in every single picture and in one of them he wore a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal a sleeve of tattoos. In most of his pictures he wore comfy sweaters and knitted cardigans with grey or black trousers. In one of them he wore a pair of blue jeans and had a small, battered copy of The Catcher in the Rye in his back pocket. 

She read his bio beneath. 

‘Harry, 30

Likes: scrabble, food, cats, books, cardigans

Dislikes: loud chewing, music played too low, emails, wearing sunglasses indoors at dinner is absolutely criminal’

She clicked the heart on his profile, eyes widening when the words ‘MATCH’ appeared on the screen in big bubble writing. He hadn’t sent her a message but clearly he had liked her own profile which was surprising considering she had barely anything on it. 

As she was mulling over what to say to start the conversation, three bubbles quickly appeared then disappeared, replaced by a message. She held her breath, reading the words. 

Harry: Hey, pretty dress

She frowned, wondering what he meant by that but then remembered she had a picture of her on her profile, showcasing one of her favourite dresses. It was a baby pink slip dress she had made out of silk fabric. 

Y/N: Thank you, I made it! :) 

Harry: You did? Wow! Looks better than most of the ones I’ve seen in my own store.

Y/N: Do you own a clothing store?

Harry: Something along those lines

Harry: Although they don’t sell pretty dresses like yours 

Y/N: They’re probably a lot better, I use cheap materials 

She cringed at her message, hoping she didn’t sound broke or not put together by saying she used something cheap.

Harry: I’m even more impressed

She smiled, watching him type a new message. 

Harry: What brings you here?

She tried to sum up how she was feeling without making herself seem like a weirdo. She didn’t want to sound like a recluse looking for human interaction no matter how much she felt like it. 

Y/N: I’m tired of everything, just want someone to keep me company 

Harry: I get that. Should I be worried? Are you okay? 

Her heart warmed, she couldn’t remember the last time someone asked her if she was okay. 

Y/N: I’m okay now, thank you for asking !! it’s just everyday life stuff.

Harry: Of course. Just let me know if there’s anything you want to talk about. I’m right here to listen… or read 

Y/N: thank you, that truly means a lot!! xx

Harry: No problem, love x

Y/N’s heart flickered at the name he had placed on the end. 

They texted for hours, well into the middle of the night. Y/N was giddy, rolling around on her bed, smiling so hard her cheeks ached. They had so much in common—both preferred quiet nights in, were family-oriented, loved literature and art and even fashion. He was funny and sweet, always checking in to make sure she was comfortable and that he wasn’t overstepping with his questions. Despite how much they had in common, they had a lot of differences too.

Y/N: Is it raining where you are? Xx

Harry: Hm, just checked outside and I think the clouds are coming over. I don’t mind though autumn happens to be my favourite season.

Y/N: omg really? 

Harry: What? You don’t agree?

Y/N: No omg are you kidding? I’m much more into spring. I like that it’s sunny with a slight breeze so it’s warm but not too warm so you can still wear a sweater

Harry: Ahhh I see, you do give spring I must say

Y/N: You think so?

Harry: Even from looking at your pictures, you look like a tulip or something. 

Harry: Or the little deer from that movie

Harry: What was it?

Harry: Bambi!

Harry: Maybe that should be your name - Bambi 

Y/N: That’s one of my favourite movies !! 

Y/N: I happened to think Bambi is a very pretty name 

Harry: Then I’ll call you Bambi 

Y/N: Well what should I call you?

Harry: Anything you like, Bambi 

. . . 

Y/N was working her shift at the supermarket. She was already entering her final hour, her stomach rumbling as she packed frozen pizzas onto the shelves. Although she had been working hard to get things done so she could go home on time, her mind was constantly wandering. 

It had been a full week of talking to Harry. They had converted to messaging on WhatsApp after exchanging numbers and every day Y/N would wake up to a morning text message from him telling her to have a good day and that he would be right there in her pocket if she ever needed anything. In the evenings, he would make sure she wasn’t going to sleep with anything heavy on her mind. He’d ask her questions about what she ate and if she had any time to herself in the day. For the first time in a long time, Y/N felt a little less lonely. She went about her day with a little pep in her step feeling the excitement of texting the man she had only just met. She didn’t know what it was about him but a part of her felt safe with him. Maybe it was the fact he was nine years older than her and knew what it was like to be under stress with so many things but he understood her in a way no one else did. 

And Bambi.

Every day, it was Bambi this and Bambi that, and every time, she’d swoon or smile at the nickname he had given her. It was silly, maybe even a little ridiculous, how much it affected her. But she couldn’t help it—every time he said it, a bubble of excitement grew inside her. She liked someone for the first time in a long time, and it brought something new, something light, into her overwhelming life.

After days of just simply texting, Y/N had asked him if he wanted to video call tonight. It would be her first time hearing what he sounded like and part of her was nervous. What if he came across differently from how he was over text? What if he didn’t look the way he did in the numerous pictures he had sent her? What if after calling tonight, he didn’t like her anymore?

Hours later, Y/N was tucked up in bed readying herself to call him. She had showered and blow-dried her hair, wearing her comfiest pink pyjamas with her body wrapped up in her duvet. Her thumb hovered over the call button, gnawing on her bottom lip as thoughts raced through her mind.

She gasped when Harry’s face appeared on her screen just seconds after she pressed call. It was their first time ever talking like this, and her heart raced as she took in the sight of him. He was sitting in a desk chair, a large framed artwork hanging on the wall behind him. His shirt was slightly rumpled, his tie loosened around the collar, and his curls fell lazily across his forehead. He looked so effortlessly handsome, it almost didn’t seem real.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice breaking the stillness of her bedroom. It carried a warmth, soft and steady, like the glow of a campfire, and she felt herself melt under its gentle heat.

“H-Hi,” she squeaked, her cheeks immediately flushing with warmth. Her nerves bubbled up as she realized she was staring at him, trying to comprehend that this was actually happening. Surely she was dreaming, she pinched herself to make sure. 

Harry’s eyes softened when he heard her shaky greeting. “You alright?” he asked, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small, amused smile. His tone was gentle, almost teasing, but there was something deeper there—like he was studying her reaction and enjoying every second of it.

She nodded quickly, fumbling with the hem of her pyjama shirt. “I’m good! Just… surprised you answered so fast.” She giggled nervously, her voice high-pitched and sweet, like she couldn’t quite believe this was happening. “I thought it’d take a few rings at least.” Her blush deepened as she tucked her knees up to her chest.

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm, making her heart flutter. “I was waiting for you to call,” he admitted, a soft smirk tugging at his lips. 

Her heart skipped a beat, and she shyly glanced up at him through her lashes. “Really?” she asked, her voice soft and a little disbelieving. 

He smiled, a slow, adoring smile that made her stomach flip. “Yeah, really. I’ve been thinking about it all day.” His voice had that low, confident tone, but his gaze was gentle, like he wanted to make sure she knew he meant it. “The only thing getting me through work.”

“You’re still at work? It’s nine-thirty!” she exclaimed, glancing at the clock in disbelief.

Harry’s lips curled into a playful smirk. “Is it past your bedtime, Bambi?” he teased, leaning back in his chair as he glanced at her through the screen.

Her heart stuttered hearing that nickname come from his own mouth. She felt like if the camera wasn’t on, she’d be floating around her room like a bright pink orb of light, “N-No,” she stammered, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “But shouldn’t you be going home by now? You’ve been working all day.”

He let out a small chuckle, shrugging as he glanced down at the papers scattered across his desk. “Got a lot to catch up on. Too many late nights spent talking to you.” His voice was warm, laced with affection despite his teasing.

Her heart sank for a moment, guilt creeping in. They’d been texting non-stop for weeks, and she hadn’t once thought about how it might be affecting his workload. He’d told her before that he worked for a clothing company, and it suddenly hit her how busy he must be.

Noticing the shift in her expression, Harry’s voice softened. “Y’thinking too much in that little head of yours?” he asked, cutting through her thoughts.

“Maybe a little,” she admitted quietly, biting her lip.

He shook his head, eyes never leaving hers. “You know I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, right? I love talking to you, Y/N. I think... I might even be a little obsessed with you,” he confessed, his smirk turning into a softer smile.

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a second, all she could do was stare at him, her heart thudding in her chest. “I-I think I’m obsessed with you too,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. 

“Yeah?” His voice was full of warmth, a hint of disbelief in it, like he hadn’t expected her to say it back. She nodded shyly, clutching her pillow tighter against her chest, her heart racing.

Harry huffed out a breath, rubbing a hand over his face to hide the wide grin that had taken over. “God, you’re even cuter than I imagined,” he murmured, his words full of adoration.

They talked for hours, diving into everything and anything that crossed their minds. It was the longest conversation they’d had since they started talking, and Y/N found herself more captivated by Harry than she thought was possible. The way he laughed, the way he listened—it all just pulled her in deeper.

In the middle of her sentence, she noticed Harry looking at her with an unusually soft expression, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite place. He suddenly spoke, cutting her off mid-thought. “Can I take you on a date?” His voice was gentle but firm, catching her completely off guard.

“O-Oh,” she stammered, blinking in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to want to meet her so soon, but her heart leapt at the thought. “I’d like that,” she replied, a soft smile spreading across her face. “Very much.”

His own smile widened, a mix of relief and excitement in his eyes. “How about Saturday evening? I could pick you up.”

“But wouldn’t that be too long of a drive?” she asked, biting her lip. She knew he lived in the city, about forty minutes away without traffic, and she didn’t want to inconvenience him.

Harry’s expression didn’t falter. “It’s not too far at all. Trust me, I don’t mind,” he said confidently. “I’ll pick you up at 8, sound good?”

Y/N’s heart fluttered, the idea of seeing him in person making her pulse race. She nodded shyly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Mhm, that sounds perfect.”

Harry’s grin grew, his eyes twinkling, “Can you wear the pretty dress you made?”

Y/N blushed, “You don’t want me to wear something a little more sophisticated?” 

“Y’ can wear whatever makes you comfortable, I don’t mind but I think I’d like to see that little dress y’ made.” 

She nodded, stifling a yawn as it slipped out. It was getting late, and Harry was still at his office, working. “Y’tired, lovie?” His voice softened.

“A little,” she lied, knowing full well she was more than exhausted. But the thought of ending the call made her chest tighten—she wanted to keep him on the line, even just for a few more minutes.

Harry chuckled softly as if he could see right through her. “Why don’t you rest those pretty eyes for me, yeah?” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, the gentle authority in his words making her entire body relax. She practically melted at the sound, her heart skipping a beat.

“M’kay,” she whispered, her eyelids already heavy as she let herself sink deeper into the comfort of his voice.

“I’ll be right here, alright?” he reassured her, his tone gentle and full of warmth.

She managed a soft smile, her words barely audible as her exhaustion overtook her. “Promise?”

“Promise Bambi,” he whispered, his voice the last thing she heard before sleep pulled her under.

. . .

“Mr. Styles?”

Harry looked up from his computer, peering over the rims of his glasses. His receptionist, Lindsey, stood in the doorway. “The samples for the newest collection have arrived. Would you like me to bring them in?” she asked, her voice polite but efficient, as always.

“Yes, please, Lindsey,” he replied with a sigh, signing off another email before hitting send. The endless stream of tasks had him feeling drained.

Though Harry wasn’t usually the type to show much warmth towards his employees, Lindsey was different. She’d been with him for years—long enough to earn not just his respect, but his trust. She was one of the very few people he relied on within his company. 

Harry was the CEO of Pleasing, a major fashion company he had built from the ground up. His first line had been designed in a small studio, crafted with his own hands and the help of a few close friends who still worked by his side. Now, it was a global brand. He was on Forbes 30 under 30 and had features in magazines like GQ. He was even in Time magazine for most influential people. 

Despite all the success, his day-to-day life had become an endless loop of emails, business meetings, and deadlines. Time for anything outside of work was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Lately, though, something, or rather someone, had started to make him reconsider how he spent his time.

He checked his phone once more having only picked it up a minute ago for the same reason. He hoped to see a message from Y/N, in fact he was eager to. Ever since he had messaged her on the only dating app he used, he hadn’t thought of anyone else but her. 

It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, one born out of the loneliness that weighed heavier than ever that night. Harry sat in his dimly lit office, the silence around him almost suffocating. He hadn’t dated in over a year, not since his last relationship, which had ended on a bitter note. That girl had taken advantage of him, using his desire of the relationship he wanted to manipulate him. She had drained his bank accounts, maxed out his credit cards on shopping sprees and lavish holidays with her friends, leaving him both financially and emotionally exhausted. After that, he’d grown wary of trusting anyone.

When he joined the website, he wasn’t exactly hopeful. The chance of finding someone who truly understood his career and mirrored his desires in a relationship seemed slim.

But then he met his Bambi. 

He hadn’t been searching for anything specific that day, just scrolling aimlessly, but something about Y/N’s profile made him pause. There was a warmth to her, a genuine spark that went beyond her pictures. She didn’t seem to realise just how captivating she was, and that drew him in even more. It wasn’t just her beauty—though she was stunning—it was the way she spoke about the things she loved. Her messages were full of passion, filled with rambles about her favourite books, little moments in her day, or random thoughts that popped into her head. 

Y/N had ignited something within him. He was excited for this newfound thing they had going on, a spark he hadn’t felt in years. Every message from her left him smiling at his phone, wondering what she’d say next. It was the kind of excitement that made the day feel a little brighter, knowing she was just a text away. He found himself looking forward to the simplest things—her daily updates, the way she’d ramble about something she’d seen or read, and even the photo updates she’d send him of things she was doing.

For the first time in a long time, he found himself imagining what it would be like to share his life with someone, instead of the quiet solitude he’d grown so used to. He couldn’t shake the thought of Y/N being that person—the one to bring warmth into the corners of his once-lonely home. He pictured what it would be like to have someone in his space, their presence adding a new kind of lightness. Someone to be there in the small, everyday moments and to keep him company after a long day at the office. 

He couldn’t wait to meet her in real life, hold her in his hands and kiss the lips he spent nights dreaming about. 

Harry snapped out of his daze when Lindsey opened the door and the manufacturers entered the room behind her, holding the fabric samples in their hands. They greeted him timidly, laying the samples on the table by the large floor-to-ceiling windows. 

He walked over, black polished shoes clicking against the mahogany wood floor. He sighed when he took in the samples, he didn’t need to feel them to know they weren’t good enough. Uncapping the red pen, he drew a cross beside each sample, the men behind him releasing a shaky breath. 

“Come back when you have what I want,” He murmured, dismissing them with a wave of his hand. 

He checked the time on his watch and cursed. Today was his niece’s birthday and he promised his sister he’d visit in time for her birthday party this afternoon. “Lindsey,” He called, hearing her shoes against the floor before she opened the door to his office. 

He pulled on his blazer, “I’ve got to leave, did you wrap that gift I gave you the other day?” 

Lindsey frowned, “It’s under my desk but what about your meetings this afternoon?” 

“Cancel them.” He shrugged.

His Porsche was parked out front by the time he stepped out of the building. He put the gift into the passenger seat and made a mental note to stop somewhere to buy a birthday card. 

He glanced at his phone when a text came through.

Bambi: Half way through my shift. It’s been pretty rough, sorry for the late reply xx

His heart leapt when Y/N’s name appeared. He took his phone when he reached a red light and typed in a reply.

Harry: it’s okay lovie, call me when you finish yeah? x

He was desperate to speak to her even if it were just for a mere few seconds. 

Making a left turn, he pulled into the parking lot of a small supermarket on the highway. It looked run down and old but there wasn’t anywhere else he could go to before he reached his sister's house.

People sat outside, smoking cigarettes and drinking out of beer cans. He ignored the glances they made towards him and his car. 

He stepped inside and walked along the aisles, pausing when he noticed someone stacking things onto a shelf. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her. She was wearing blue jeans and a fuzzy white sweater, her hair was braided and fastened with pink, silk bows. She wore wired earbuds, her pink ballerina flats tapping against the laminate flooring. 

She must have felt his gaze because her head lifted, eyes widening as they met his. Her soft, pink lips parted slightly, and in that instant, it was as if the world shifted—everything falling perfectly into place between them, as though they were always meant to find each other naturally. 

Harry hadn’t noticed the sugar spilling from the bag she was holding until the store manager stormed over. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The sharp tone made Y/N jump, her body snapping upright as she stood frozen in front of her manager, fear flashing across her face.

“I-I’m s-sorry, I—” Y/N stammered, her voice trembling.

“How many times do I have to hear the same excuse from you?” her manager snapped. “Stupid, useless girl, costing me the whole damn shop.”

Y/N’s bottom lip quivered, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. “I-I know... I promised it wouldn’t happen again. It was an accident, really,” she whispered, her voice barely holding steady.

Harry’s frown deepened. Again? This had happened before?

From the way Y/N stood there, trying so hard not to cry, it was painfully clear—this wasn’t the first time her boss had spoken to her like this.

Harry’s jaw tightened as he watched the exchange, a surge of protectiveness rising in him. He had only known Y/N recently, but seeing her like this—small, vulnerable, and clearly hurt—stirred something deep within him. He couldn’t just stand there and let it happen.

“Excuse me,” Harry spoke up, his voice calm but firm, stepping closer. The store manager turned to him, annoyance flashing across his face.

“This doesn’t concern you,” the manager spat, his glare shifting to Harry.

“Actually, I think it does,” Harry replied, his eyes steady on the man. “You don’t need to speak to her like that.”

The manager scoffed. “And who the hell are you?”

Harry didn’t blink, his voice lowering. “Someone who knows when respect is lacking.”

Y/N looked up at Harry, wide-eyed, as if she couldn’t believe he was stepping in. Her heart raced, a mix of relief and anxiety bubbling inside her. She wasn’t used to anyone standing up for her like this.

“Y/N, why don’t you take a minute?” Harry said softly, glancing over at her, his voice now gentle and reassuring. The tears in her eyes made his chest physically hurt. He’d be quick with this useless piece of shit so he could give her all his attention.

She hesitated but then nodded, her gaze flicking between Harry and her boss. She quickly turned, slipping away from the confrontation, her hands shaking as she tried to compose herself.

Harry turned back to the manager, his calm exterior masking the frustration brewing underneath. “Speak to her like that again, and I won’t hesitate to have this place torn down, brick by brick, and replaced with a building I own. Then you’ll know firsthand what it’s like to deal with a real fucking manager.” 

With that, he turned on his heel, already making a mental note to have his team look into this place. It was clearly lacking in more ways than one—enough to warrant being shut down for good he hoped. 

Y/N stood behind the building, her back to him, shoulders trembling as she cried into her sleeve. Harry’s heart clenched at the sight. “Hey, hey, hey,” he murmured softly, stepping forward and gently pulling her into his chest. “Tha’s enough now, Bambi. Don’t waste your tears on him,” he whispered, his large hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. Holding her close felt unexpectedly right, as if this was exactly where she belonged, even if the circumstances weren’t ideal.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she sniffled, her voice small. “This isn’t how I wanted you to see me for the first time.”

His eyes softened with affection as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief. Carefully, he wiped her tear-stained, blotchy cheeks, his touch tender. “You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart,” he whispered, “S’alright now, y’ don’t have to go back in there.” He cupped the back of her head, feeling how soft and silky her hair was. He couldn’t seem to fathom that he was actually holding her after days of imagining what she would feel like.

She pulled away and for the first time Harry could get a proper look at her. He didn’t think it possible for her to be even more beautiful than the pictures he had of her on her phone but she was. Her features were soft, cheeks permanently pink like the colour of tulips on a spring day, her lips were the perfect shape, so delicate like two petals pressed together. She was a walking angel. 

“Hey stranger,” He grinned, those perfect cheeks turning pink. If Harry had one goal in his life it was to make her all flustery and blushy. 

“Hi,” She peeped, hands fiddling in front of her.

Her eyes widened when she saw the tear stains on his shirt, the damp spots revealing the tiniest hint of the tattoos on his torso. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your shirt,” She cringed.

“Hey no need to apologise, ‘s not even ruined and I’d rather you were okay than some easily replaceable shirt.” He assured her. “Are y’ sure you’re okay? Don’t need to go in there and beat him up or anything,”

She smiled at that and the sight made his heart sing, “No it’s okay. I-I’m okay, thank you for looking out for me. I don’t normally have people doing that very often.”

He frowned. He didn’t like how often she spoke about how little help she got from other people. If anything, it made him want to take care of her even more than he already did. 

“I should probably head back in. I still have three more hours of my shift,” she huffed, clearly reluctant. It was the last thing she wanted to do.

Harry’s expression softened, but his tone remained firm. “You don’t have to,” he said, his gaze holding hers, protective and unwavering.

Y/N frowned, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “But I need the job, Harry,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “I can’t just leave.”

His jaw tightened at her words. He hated seeing her stuck in a place that didn’t value her, where she wasn’t respected. “I know you need the job,” he replied, gentler now, trying to ease her worry. “But no job is worth being treated like that. Not by him.”

She bit her lip, glancing back at the store, anxiety clearly weighing on her. “What am I supposed to do, then? I can’t afford to lose it.”

Harry stepped closer, his hand finding its way to her cheek, thumb brushing away a stray tear. “You’re not going to lose anything,” he said softly. “Let me take care of it. Of you.”

Y/N blinked up at him, her heart pounding. “Take care of me?”

“Come work with me,” He offered. 

There weren’t many positions available at Pleasing, but Harry didn’t care. He’d make something work—anything to keep her from going back into that place and dealing with the jerk inside.

“In the city? I... I can’t do that, Harry. I still have school, and my brothers...”

“You can work around it,” he said quickly, eager to find a solution. “I’ll pay for your gas to and from the city, or I’ll have someone drive you. Hell, I’ll drive you myself if it makes you feel better. Whatever you need. Just don’t stay here.”

He sighed softly, taking her small hand in his larger one, her warmth a comfort even as doubt flickered between them. “Just... think about it, yeah?” His thumb traced gentle circles on the back of her hand, trying to ease the tension.

Y/N hesitated but nodded slowly. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur.

A grin spread across Harry’s face, his relief palpable. “Thank you Bambi.” He swore he saw her pupils carve into love hearts at his words. 

. . . 

Y/N hadn’t returned to her job at the store just as she promised Harry. It wasn’t only because Harry was insistent she didn’t go back but her manager had been pretty verbally abusive for quite some time now and she thought better than to go back and work for someone who was just plain mean. 

A few days had passed and Saturday rolled around quickly. Y/N was giddy with excitement, preparing everything in time for Harry to pick her up to take her on their very first date this evening. She had arranged a babysitter to look after her brothers since her mother wouldn’t be home until late. It wasn’t often they splurged cash on hiring a babysitter but Y/N wasn’t going to rearrange her date with Harry for anything.

She’d made a list of everything she needed to do: wash and blow dry her hair, shave every inch of her body, and paint her nails with the glazed pink polish she’d ordered online. Her hair was in curlers as she carefully laid out her outfit for the evening—a pink satin slip dress she’d made herself, paired with white kitten heels that matched perfectly. With the season shifting into autumn, she added a thin white cardigan to keep her warm in case the night turned chilly on the way home.

She wanted to look perfect. Especially after the fiasco the other day when he had rescued her from her mean manager. 

Everything seemed to move in slow motion the moment she laid eyes on the man from her phone. He was even more perfect than she had imagined—taller too. It still hadn’t sunk in that she was about to go on a date with this man—the one who wore a black suit to work and had saved her from cruel, terrifying managers.

And the way he spoke to her afterwards, comforting her with his big, heavy hands around her. She wanted him to pick her up and take her wherever he went. 

Y/N sighed blissfully in front of her vanity. As Y/N finished her makeup, her phone buzzed with a message from Harry. 

Harry: Just outside x

She peeked through the window, catching sight of him standing by a sleek black car, leaning casually against the door. He looked breathtaking in a fitted black suit, hands in his pockets as he scanned the street. Her nerves fluttered, a mixture of excitement and anticipation bubbling up. She took a deep breath, smoothed down her dress, and grabbed her cardigan before heading out the door. 

The moment she stepped outside, Harry’s gaze snapped to her, dark and intense. He straightened up, eyes travelling over her form, taking in every detail of her appearance. The way he looked at her sent a shiver down her spine.

“Y’ look stunning, Bambi,” he murmured, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine. He took a step closer, his large hand cupping her cheek, thumb grazing her soft skin. “All this f’ me?”

Y/N blushed, biting her bottom lip nervously. “I-I wore the dress you wanted,” she mumbled shyly, looking up at him through her lashes, “Do you like it?” 

“‘S perfect,” He murmured lowly. 

“Ready to go, sweetheart?” He opened the car door for her, watching as she slid into the passenger seat, her delicate form contrasting with the dark interior of his Porshe. Harry’s eyes lingered on her legs for a moment before he shut the door and walked around to his side.

Once inside, he reached over, resting his hand on her thigh, the warmth of his touch comforting her immediately. “You nervous?” he asked, glancing at her with a small smile, though the look in his eyes held a trace of dominance.

“A little,” Y/N admitted, her voice soft and shy.

Harry gave her thigh a gentle squeeze. “Y’ don’t have to be nervous around me, love, promise ‘m not scary. Least of all t’ you.” 

Y/N smiled, loving how he made it clear she was different, that he treated her in a way no one else could. It warmed her to feel special, especially when that feeling was rare for her.

As they drove, their conversation flowed easily. Y/N found herself opening up more and more, rambling about anything that came to mind. Harry listened intently, his smile soft as he asked questions, showing genuine interest in everything she said. Her eyes sparkled in the dim light of the car, and each time she answered bashfully, his lips curved. 

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as they drove deeper into the city. The lights grew brighter, illuminating a part of town she rarely found herself in—where the wealthy lived, with towering apartment complexes and upscale restaurants lining the streets. Harry pulled over in front of a sleek Italian restaurant, where a man stood waiting by the curb.

“Are we allowed to park here?” Y/N asked, her face bathed in the glow of the restaurant’s lights.

Harry suppressed a grin at her confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well… I just assumed we weren’t eating here, which is totally fine! You don’t need to impress me with a fancy restaurant.” Her cheeks flushed pink as she tried to clarify.

Harry’s lips curled into a teasing smirk. “What if I told you we are eating here?”

Y/N’s eyes widened in disbelief. “A-are we?”

Without answering, Harry reached for her hand, brushing his lips over the back of it. “Y’ too cute,” he murmured. “Come on, they’re waiting for us.” He stepped out of the car, passing his keys to the valet standing nearby, before adjusting his blazer and moving to open the door for her, his hand stretched out toward her for her to grab onto. 

Y/N hesitated, her mind reeling. There was no way they were eating at this restaurant—the kind with a year-long reservation list and three Michelin stars. She’d heard rumours that a single course here could cost more than her entire paycheck for the week. But as she took his hand and stepped out, it felt impossible to believe this was really happening.

Harry intertwined their fingers, offering a brief nod to the waiter who opened the door for them. “Harry… are you sure? They probably don’t have any tables for people just walking in,” she whispered.

He chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, love. I made some arrangements.”

Her brows furrowed in surprise. “Arrangements? How?”

Stopping at the ‘Please Wait to Be Seated’ sign, Harry finally turned to her with a playful twinkle in his eye. “I own the restaurant.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open as a waiter approached, menus tucked neatly under his arm. “Good evening, Mr. Styles. Your table is ready.”

Feeling like she was in a dream, Y/N walked hand-in-hand with Harry to a private table near the large glass windows at the back. The breathtaking view of the city’s skyline stretched out before them, and the table, set for two, was tucked away to offer them some privacy. 

As they were seated, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the quiet stares and murmurs from other guests. She knew Harry owned a clothing business, but… just how successful was he?

The waiter laid the menus out in front of them and left them to decide what they wanted to order. Y/N hadn’t even noticed as her wide eyes gazed around the room at the glowing chandeliers. 

Harry reached for her hand beneath the table, “Are y’ okay love?” He asked. Y/N’s gaze snapped towards him, “I hope ‘s not too much.”

“H-Harry, I really appreciate you bringing me here, I mean even stepping inside is a dream come true, but… I c-can’t afford this.” She felt awful saying it but it was true and it was better to tell him now than when she’d finished her meal, she wouldn’t want him thinking she was out for his money.

Harry frowned, “Bambi, this is a date. Y’ don’t have to pay for anything.”

“B-but I can’t use your money.” She told him. 

She couldn’t hear it but Harry’s heart was singing in his chest. She was exactly what he was looking for someone totally opposite to all the women he had dated in his past. 

He cupped her cheek in his hand, “Look at me Y/N,” Big, doe eyes gazed into his, “Please stop worrying and let me take care of you. I know y’ haven’t been given that in the past but ‘m here now and I want this. I wanted to bring y’ here and I want y’ to be spoiled and I want to treat you in the way you deserve. So can you pick something from the menu and let me look after you Bambi baby, please? Think you can do that?”

Her lips parted, slowly nodding her head but she quickly said one last thing, “You don’t have to take me to fancy places to make me feel spoiled Harry. I already feel spoiled enough just getting to be with you.”

He smiled, eyes glistening under the low light of the chandelier. He placed a hand on her thigh and squeezed as a small thank you. “Have you decided what you’re going to eat?”

"Hmmm," Harry grinned, watching Y/N's pouted lips as she studied the menu with intense concentration. "I can't decide between the truffle pasta or the smoked salmon!" she huffed, clearly torn.

"How about this," he offered with a shrug, "I’ll get the smoked salmon, you get the truffle pasta, and we can share? That way you can try both."

She glanced up at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “You don’t want something else?”

He had been planning on ordering the steak and potatoes, but seeing how much this small decision seemed to weigh on her, he didn’t mind changing his mind. The smoked salmon was one of his favourite dishes anyway.

When the waiter came over, Harry confidently placed the order for both of them, which made Y/N visibly relax. She hated the pressure of ordering her own food, so the simple act of him taking charge made her feel instantly at ease.

“We’ll make sure to have your order as a priority, Mr. Styles,” the waiter nodded respectfully before walking away.

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wow. They must really like you here.”

Harry chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. “Didn’t I mention I owned a clothing business?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, “But I thought it was just a boutique or something.” She shrugged, clearly unaware of the scale.

Harry laughed a warm, deep sound that made her stomach flip. “Bambi,” he said, pulling her gently into his side until their cheeks were almost touching, “See that guy’s sweater? That woman’s hat? And that lady’s dress over there?” She nodded everytime he pointed towards them, her heart skipping a beat at their closeness. “We made all of those.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “W-wait, you own Pleasing?”

Harry nodded, a small, proud smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Y/N couldn’t even count how many times she had opened the Pleasing website, scrolling through pages of clothes she desperately wanted but couldn’t afford. And now, she was sitting across from its owner—no, she was on a date with him.

“Mhm,” he hummed, pulling away slightly to gauge her reaction. "Which reminds me, have you given any more thought to the job?"

She had, actually. The idea had been rolling around in her mind ever since he’d mentioned it. "What's the role again?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

"My assistant," Harry replied smoothly. "You’d help with emails, scheduling meetings, running errands—nothing too complicated. Just being my right hand.”

“Wouldn’t that be awkward, though? Since we’re, y’know... dating?”

Harry smirked, catching the implication. "So, there’s going to be a second date?" His teasing tone made her blush. “And if anything, it makes it better. I’d get to see you every day instead of just texting."

“But what about school?” Y/N asked, trying to think practically.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said easily. “Whatever you need. We can make it work.”

“Shouldn’t there be an interview or something?” she quipped, trying to lighten the moment, though her heart was racing.

Harry sighed dramatically, playing along. “Alright. Hello, Miss Y/L/N. Welcome to your official interview for the position of Mr. Styles’ personal assistant.”

Y/N giggled, her nerves easing as she followed his lead. “Well, hello Mr. Styles. Thank you for having me.”

Harry’s lips curled into a smile, his eyes twinkling as he played along. “First question,” he said, leaning closer, their faces now just inches apart. “How do you feel about spending every day with me? Answer carefully—it’s a tough one.”

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “Well, Mr. Styles, I think I could manage that.”

“Good answer,” he praised, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. “Next question: Can you handle a man who’s very particular about his coffee?”

She tilted her head, raising an eyebrow in playful suspicion. “Are we talking normal particular, or... like, twelve-steps-to-make-a-single-cup particular?”

Harry chuckled, his dimples deepening. “Maybe somewhere in between. But don’t worry, I can teach you.”

Y/N laughed softly, her nerves easing even more. Being around him was easy, natural—like slipping into something familiar and warm. “I think I could handle that.”

"One last question," Harry murmured, leaning in even closer. His gaze flickered to her lips for a brief second before locking back onto her eyes. "How do you feel about sneaking around with your boss?"

Her laughter died down, a trace of seriousness replacing it. She knew the risks—things had to stay professional, no hint of their relationship could slip through especially since Harry would not only be her boss but was the Senior Director and had to have the respect of everyone.  But still, she couldn’t resist.

“I think it could be fun,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Good,” He murmured, “I think you’ve passed the test, Bambi,” Y/N noticed how close his lips were to hers, if she moved her face forward they’d be touching, “Any questions?”

. . . 

Harry pulled the car up to the curb just outside Y/N’s house, the gentle hum of the engine fading as he switched it off. The street was quiet, the only light coming from the street lamps casting long shadows on the pavement. Inside her house, the windows were dark, and she silently hoped her brothers were already asleep, sparing her the awkwardness of explaining why she wasn’t rushing inside.

The silence between them felt comfortable yet charged, neither making a move to leave. It was as if both of them knew the night shouldn’t end yet, even though it had to at some point. Y/N looked down at her hands, nervously tracing the edge of her coat, stealing glances at Harry every few moments. He seemed deep in thought, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel, but the same hesitation hung in the air between them.

“Thanks for dinner,” she said softly, her voice breaking the silence.

He turned to her, his expression soft but intent, as if weighing every word. “Don’t need t’ thank me Bambi,” he replied, his eyes lingering on her face a moment longer than necessary. 

“I wish I didn’t have to go home,” She huffed, looking down at her fingers on her lap.

Harry’s lips curved into a small smile, but there was a seriousness in his eyes. He leaned back in his seat, turning his body slightly toward her. “Y’ want to go back to mine?”

She wanted nothing more, the pain of saying no physically paining her, “M-my brothers... they have school,” she murmured.

“S okay,” He smiled. 

The air between them felt thick with unspoken feelings, and she could feel her heart race as the weight of his gaze settled on her. He reached over, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his touch soft.

“Bambi,” he said quietly, his voice suddenly more intimate, like he was laying something important on the table.

She turned to face him fully, her breath catching as his fingers brushed against her cheek, lingering just long enough to make her pulse race. The space between them seemed to vanish, and suddenly, all she could think about was the way his lips would feel against hers.

Neither of them spoke. The tension that had been simmering all evening finally boiled over. Harry’s hand cupped her cheek, and in that quiet moment under the dim streetlights, he leaned in.

The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, like they were both testing the waters. But as soon as their lips touched, a wave of emotion flooded over her, and she couldn’t help but respond. Her hand found its way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, slow and lingering. It wasn’t rushed or hurried—just soft, warm, and full of everything Y/N had been dreaming about for longer than she cared to admit. 

When they finally pulled apart, Harry rested his forehead against hers, both of them catching their breath, their lips still tingling from the kiss. His hand lingered on her cheek, as though neither of them was ready to let the moment slip away just yet.

Y/N opened her mouth to say something, maybe to break the silence or make a joke about how long they’d waited for this. But before she could speak, a loud thud startled her. She turned her head, eyes widening as the lights in her house flickered on. And there they were—her brothers, pressed against the living room window, grinning like fools and making exaggerated kissy faces at them.

“Oh my God,” Y/N groaned, mortified. Her face flushed a deep shade of red as she fumbled with her seatbelt. "This is so embarrassing."

She pushed the door open and scrambled out of her seat, grabbing her purse in a flurry of panic. “I am so sorry, Harry. I-I have to go,” she stammered, her words tumbling out in a rush as she awkwardly tried to regain her composure. “Thank you for dinner, a-and the kiss! Oh, and the job too!”

In her haste, her heel caught on a paving stone, and she stumbled slightly, her purse nearly slipping from her hand as she made her way toward the front door.

Harry watched her, his mouth half open, caught between amusement and disbelief. She was flustered, rambling, and absolutely adorable. He couldn't stop the soft chuckle that escaped him as he leaned back in his seat, shaking his head.

"Bambi!" he called out the car window, grinning. “I'll take that as a yes on the job?”

Y/N turned back briefly, her face flushed but her smile shy and genuine. “Yes! Definitely yes!” she called over her shoulder, before hurrying inside, her brothers still laughing from the window.

As she disappeared through the door, Harry chuckled to himself, the warmth from their kiss still lingering. He turned the ignition on, shaking his head in disbelief at how the night had unfolded. It was far from the graceful goodbye he had imagined, but somehow, it felt perfect. He couldn’t stop smiling as he pulled away from the curb. 

Yeah, he thought to himself, that definitely meant she was taking the job.

[elixirfromthestars]

A Night of Frights & Delights

Pairing: Athlete!Bucky Barnes x Artist!Reader (College AU)

Summary: It’s Friday the 13th and the college kids in town decided to host a weekend camping trip on the outskirts of town. Your best friend convinced you to go much to your reluctance. What could go wrong when the one guy you can’t stand is also there?

Word Count: 7k

Warning(s): slight horror themes / suggestive tones + implications / mentions of a past murder (not in graphic detail just campfire storytelling) / slow burn / suspense + other elements of spookiness / touch starved elements / be prepared for lots of back and forth + tension

Prompt: Campsite + forced proximity + “ It’s not bad enough to have Friday the 13th, we’ve gotta have a full moon too?”

a/n: here’s my entry for @witchywithwhiskey ‘s summer slasher writing challenge. Any chance to celebrate summerween and I’m there 🤭✨ I got carried away with the spooky element of it and this ended up longer than expected. Thank you for reading! 🧡 Feedback is always appreciated!! 🎃🧡

a steamy part two ❤️‍🔥

“ It’s Friday the 13th! Gather ‘round, for some good ol’ scary campfire stories!” Sam Wilson called out to anyone who would listen. A task that wasn’t the easiest thing to ask for when all the college students in the area were trying to have their last bit of fun before fall semester started. Amongst the ones that weren’t already drunk or passed out, a few were trying to find the perfect opportunity to sneak away into the night.

You on the other hand sat near the bonfire, appreciating the warmth it provided on this chilly night. Your back was resting against a log. The scratchy surface grazes against your black sweater at the slightest movement. Camping wasn’t your ideal choice for a weekend getaway, but when your best friend Jane insisted on you coming along it was hard to say no. Especially, since you had already said no to multiple get-togethers throughout the summer. 

It’s not like you didn’t want to hang out with her. The issue was that wherever she was her boyfriend was—and wherever he was his friends were. And his friends included one smartass star pitcher for your university’s baseball team who made it his life’s mission to be a thorn in your side. 

Needless to say, you couldn’t stand the man.

“ It was actually 1982, not 1985,” Jane whispers her comment to you, nudging your arm lightly. You snapped out of your thoughts and looked at her, your clueless eyes meeting her amused ones. 

“ You’re not paying attention to Sam’s story, are you?” She quietly calls you out, leaning slightly closer. You shake your head sheepishly,“ No. Kind of got lost in thought,” you admit. Jane nods in acknowledgment,“ You’re not missing much. He’s just telling the story of the murders that happened here in ‘82,” she explains. You nod slowly, an eerie chill creeping up your spine. Everyone within fifty miles of the town knew of the horrific crime. It was the worst the town had ever seen. 

A group of teenagers had snuck off into the woods to party a week before their senior graduation. They brought their camping gear to spend the night under the full moon to celebrate the milestone. They had gone so deep into the woods no one heard their music blasting all night. 

No one heard their screams either as their life was taken from them. 

You took a shaky breath, your fingers tracing random patterns into the dirt beneath you. Even though you could recite this story from memory it was different hearing it told in gruesome detail. Something Sam was not shying away from doing. 

“ Don’t let Sam’s story get to you—here have a s’more,” Thor spoke up, handing you a small disposable plate with a freshly assembled s’more. His way of trying to comfort you. 

“ Thanks,” you shot Thor an appreciative smile, taking the sweet treat. Jane’s boyfriend had always been kind to you and you got along well. The mutual friendliness extended to all of his baseball friends.

Well, the friendliness extended to all his friends except for one.  

“ He’s telling it wrong anyway, so don’t pay it any mind,” Jane says causing you to let out a small laugh. Leave it to Jane to alleviate your nerves by just being herself. 

You try to drown out Sam’s true crime retelling and focus on the sugary gooeyness on your lap. Jane and Thor snuggle into each other beside you and a small smile appears on your face at the sight. You take a bite of the s’more, letting the flavors melt into your mouth. 

“ The next morning the cops led a search party into these very woods. Everyone searched day and night for three days straight. Scouting every inch, no stone unturned, to find them. And then one day, one member of the search party found something. That member being my Titi—so listen close,” Sam sets up the big reveal. 

“ Wanna know what they found?” A voice you know all too well whispers into your ear from behind. The hairs on the back of your neck stand as his breath fans your ear. 

“ I already know,” you grit out, turning your head to glare at him. Bucky can’t help the cocky grin that overcomes him when you look at him like that. He makes his way over the log and sits right next to you. You don’t hide the displeasure on your face. 

“ Couldn’t find anyone else to annoy, James?” 

 “ None worth my time, sweetheart—and it's Bucky.” 

You roll your eyes biting back a snarky comment. No matter the number of times he insists on you calling him by his nickname, you refuse to. Only his friends call him Bucky, and you're not friends—far from it. So to you, he’s James and nothing more. 

“ We’re not friends, James. Friends don’t make you miss your biology final,” you remind him bitterly. He looks at you with slight disbelief,“ You’re still stuck on that? How is it my fault the party went until four in the morning?” You bristle at his defensiveness. 

“ I don’t know. Maybe by not kicking everyone out of your apartment?” you retort, taking another bite of your s’more. Hoping to lose yourself in the sweetness of it before the distaste of his presence taints it. 

“ At least the professor let you make it up…” he mutters under his breath. 

“ That’s not the point,” you snip, unable to let him have the last word. You pretend to focus on Sam’s story, but really your attention is on the flames in front of you. The way they dance and crackle as if telling their own story alongside Sam’s. 

Bucky stares at you, his eyes scanning every detail of your face. His favorite pastime is finding all the ways to push your buttons. There’s something about your reactions that he can’t help but want to see more of. He openly enjoys being the only one who can elicit such responses from you. Hell, you could say he was proud of it. 

“ Stop it.” 

“ Stop what?” 

“ The staring.” 

“ Don't want to.” 

You turn to give him a piece of your mind but abruptly stop when you see the way he’s looking at you—or more so the way he’s examining your lips. His eyes reflecting more than just the golden flames in the bonfire. There was something deeper and not entirely unfamiliar. He had looked at you this way before, and yet it was still unrecognizable to you. An emotion you couldn’t pinpoint, but that was heartstopping nonetheless. 

His hand lifts to your face, his thumb brushing away at something on the corner of your mouth. Your tongue instinctively darts out to lick your lips and remove whatever remnants of the s’more are left. Something unreadable flashes in his eyes. You wonder what he must be seeing in yours when his eyes drift from your lips to your gaze. 

“ You had a little something there,” his voice has a deeper cadence to it, contrasting the cheeky grin plastered on his face. That damn grin. It’s all you need to snap out of whatever trance you were just in. 

“ You’re insufferable,” you hiss out, getting up from your spot on the ground and stepping away from the bonfire. You hate how he does this—how easily he’s able to mess with you. It’s like it's his second nature to know exactly how to get a reaction from you. Almost as if he knew you better than you knew yourself.

The vulnerability of it all is what ground your gears the most. Bucky was used to this. The flirting, the back and forth, the teasing, and having girls wrapped around his finger. The last time you were in a relationship was your freshman year of college—a few years ago. It had been too long of being touch-starved that the slightest of touches or gazes brought about a yearning deep within you. One that you swore Bucky could see right through and it made you detest the man more. 

You hated feeling like you were being toyed with. But above all, you hated how much you actually didn’t hate the attention he gave you. 

You make your way over to one of the many trashcans around the campsite and dump the last bits of your s’more in along with the disposable plate. Your appetite for the treat long gone after his little stunt. 

You use your phone as a flashlight as you walk over to where all the tents are stationed. It’s not too far from the bonfire, but far enough that the voices of everyone drown out into a low hum. A few people are already in the tents enjoying the night without the warmth of the fire. 

“ Y/n! Hold up!” Jane calls out to you from behind. You face her confused expression, “ Everything okay?” You nod, your hands hiding in the pockets of your grey sweatpants,“ Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just gonna call it a night,” you say tiredly. You don’t want her to worry or keep her from enjoying her night. 

“ Okay…Are you sure? Because you seemed off after Bucky—” 

“ Please for the love of everything don’t mention him.”

Jane drops the subject entirely, “ Okay, okay. I won’t,” she assures you and pauses for a moment before she adds, “ By the way, I’ll be staying with Thor tonight, so you have our tent all to yourself.” 

“ Oh? Oh…behave yourself, Foster,” you warn her playfully. She rolls her eyes waving off your tease,“ No promises.” You laugh together—the exchange alleviating the heaviness in your shoulders.

After a light farewell, your best friend retreats to the bonfire. You find your eyes drifting from her figure to the back of Bucky’s head. He’s still sitting in the same spot, right next to where you had sat. He was drinking away at a beer as Sam continues his story. You look away, ignoring the way your heart feels a small pang as it wonders if it would have been so bad if you had stayed.

Only Bucky had this way of infuriating you, but enticing you at the same time. A magnetic push and pull that tugs at you whenever you’re near him. 

You crouch down and unzip your humble abode for the night. Gazing up at the sky before heading in. The moon is bright and full amongst the dark hazy clouds. 

“ It's not bad enough to have Friday the 13th, we've gotta have a full moon too?” you grumble before entering the tent. The knowledge of being in here alone all night sounds less appealing now. You wish Sam had told a different story to set the mood for tonight. 

For the next couple of hours, you lose yourself in your sketchbook. Every corner of the tent became your makeshift desk as the soft scratches of graphite filled the air. A small LED lantern casting just enough glow to guide your intricate curves and shadows across the paper. At first, you were sketching a flower you had seen earlier in the day along a trail. You don’t recognize the species, but the cluster of pretty violet petals vividly lived in your head and you wanted it forever memorialized in your sketchbook. 

At some point, however, the petals turn into doodles and then unrecognizable scribbles. The creative flow taking a life of its own. You soon find yourself drawing a pair of eyes on another page. Giving them a space of their own. These eyes you recognize deep down, but they still have the same unreadable expression from earlier. Almost as if you hoped to decipher it by putting it on paper. 

Maybe then it would be easier to look at them without being affected—without feeling that pull. 

There’s a loud thump that echoes close to your tent. You freeze at the sound. By this point, everyone had called it a night and retreated to their sleeping arrangements. It had been at least half an hour that you hadn’t heard a single sound except for the chirping of crickets amongst a chorus of other creepy crawlers. 

When no sound followed the thump you decided to ignore it—acting like you hadn’t heard a thing. And yet, your fingers swiftly moved to turn off the lantern and close your sketchbook, neatly tucking it beneath your pillow. 

Another noise rang out—the skidding of dirt. And this time it was closer to your tent. Not directly outside it, but almost. You don’t know why your heart dropped or why your fingertips went cold, but they did. You tell yourself it’s probably just someone going out to use the bathroom or some other related activity. 

Your body betrayed your mind as it started to feel enclosed in the tent. Like a prey caught in a trap. Hopelessly awaiting the moment the predator decided to take them out. 

You swallow the lump in your throat and with numb fingers, you grab your phone. The tent shrinking around you as your heart pounded in your chest. Going out to investigate the source of the noise wasn't the smartest idea. However, continuing to be a sitting duck in the tent was distressing you more—and that helpless feeling overpowered anything else. 

You slowly unzip the tent, trying to make as minimal noise as possible. You slip on your moccasins, putting one foot in front of the other as you step out into the night. Your surroundings are cast in shadows as the moon seems to be hiding behind a gloomy cluster of clouds. You look around and notice no one else is awake. Only dormant tents with sleeping residents inside accompany you in the night. 

You scan the area, training your ear to see if you can pick up any noise. 

That’s when you hear it—a rustling in the bushes. 

You peer into the woods, your eyes narrowing hoping to center on something, but you can’t see anything. There’s a slight fog that encases the lines of trees encircling the campsite obstructing your view. 

You take a few steps forward, hugging your sweater closer to your body. The outside air catches you off guard with its falling degrees. The shadows at every corner of the woods become creatures of the night if you stare at them for too long. 

Why were you doing this? Why had you decided this was a good idea? 

You questioned yourself. An unpleasant shiver goes up your spine at the thought of you walking straight into a creature’s claws. Your footing stumbled, and yet you found yourself walking further in the direction of the sound, the faint glow of your phone illuminating your path. You decided against using the actual flashlight on your phone as it could easily alert whatever was hiding in the foliage of the woods. 

You don’t go too far from the campsite. Your legs only take you a few feet away from the perimeter of it before tensing at the way the hoot of an owl cuts through the stillness of the night. Your breath caught in your throat, and you gripped your phone tighter. The edges of it digging into your skin. 

“ What are we looking for?” A voice too close for comfort whispers behind you and it causes you to shriek, your phone tumbling to the ground as you jump away from the source. Your eyes zero in on the culprit—your blood boiling when your gaze meets his ceruleans. 

James Buchanan fucking Barnes.

A deep chuckle erupts from Bucky at your reaction. Not only at the way you jumped, but also at the way you’re now seething. He stands there in a basic white tee and black joggers, his hair slightly unkempt from lying on it earlier in the night. 

“ What the hell is wrong with you?” You hiss, bending down to pick up your phone from the ground. The anxiety from before dissipating into irritation. 

“ Me? What’s up with you? Sneaking around in the woods at night. That’s kinda creepy, sweetheart,” he jabs with a smirk. You roll your eyes, exhaling to steady your breath,“ Stop calling me that. And I'm not sneaking around—I heard something.” 

“ And you came to check it out?” 

“ Yeah.”

“ You have no survival instincts, do you?”

“ And you do? You're out here too.”

Bucky crosses his arms, his eyes roaming over your figure. He’s thoroughly entertained by your attempt to catch whatever is out there in your cozy outfit. It’s not exactly monster-hunting material. 

“ I let my buddy have the tent for the night. He’s got a girl in there. Thought I'd sleep under the stars like nature intended,” he explains with a nonchalant shrug. A wry smile appears on your face,“ Aren’t you a great friend,” you reply sarcastically. He’s about to give you a snippy retort when a branch breaks ahead of you, causing you both to snap your attention to it. 

You both go silent—wondering if you’ll hear anything more. Bucky takes a few steps forward to stand in front of you. Positioning himself between you and the unknown noise.��

“ Is that what you heard earlier?” He asks, his voice a hushed whisper. Your eyes drift up his form and the way his arm is slightly outstretched in your direction in a protective stance. He’s looking in the direction of where the sound came from, but then his head turns back to look at you. 

It takes you a second to gather your words,“ Sort of. At first there was like a loud thud by my tent and then some rustling—and now this,” you describe the unfolding events thus far.

He frowns,“ Is your tent the one by Wanda’s?”At his question you nod,“ Yeah…why?” He tilts his head slightly as he tries to recollect something. 

“ The two-person one with the purple edges?” 

“ Yeah…” 

His features soften, dawning on a sheepish expression. His protective stance faltering as he scratches the back of his neck,“ The noise was me then—sorry. I tripped over something while looking for a place to piss.” 

“ Oh…” Is all you manage to say. Feeling utterly foolish for getting so worked up over nothing. What you had thought was something going bump in the night ended up being Bucky stumbling to relieve himself. 

Another branch cracks in the murky fog. Reminding you that although the noises you heard outside your tent were explained, the ones here, not too far from you and Bucky—weren’t. 

“ I’m gonna go check it out,” he takes a step forward, but you stop him. Your hand shoots out to grip the hem of his shirt,“ Don’t! Are you crazy? You’re going to get yourself killed or something!”

His eyebrows raise, not expecting you to have that reaction.“ Are you worried about me, sweetheart?” A smirk spreads across his face, a twinkle in his eye.“ As if—screw you,” you deny harsher than you intended, removing your hold from his shirt. This only provokes him more, his smirk turning into a cheeky grin,“ You wanna?” 

“ You know what? I hope whatever is out there gets you.” 

“ Oh, you’d miss me if it did. But don’t worry—if it gets me, I’ll make sure to let it know you’re the one worth chasing." 

Bucky doesn’t give you a second to process what his words really mean. Instead, he takes out a small flashlight from the pocket of his joggers. He turns it on, shining the area ahead of him. A brazen expression is the last thing you see before he wanders into that direction of the woods as if there wasn’t potentially something dangerous up ahead. 

You wanted to protest, but you didn’t. Rather, you end up standing there amongst the wilderness, watching as his form gets smaller and smaller until it disappears into the haze of the fog. 

You feel uneasy as soon as you don’t see him. Your chest feels heavy with the unknown. You call out to him. Thinking maybe he’s doing this to prove something or to mess with you. When he doesn’t call back you find apprehension in the sinking pit of your stomach. 

Behind you, the campsite is still in sight. The smart thing to do would be to go wake someone up—like Thor—to go after Bucky. However, your feet work faster than your mind does, pushing you to follow after him. 

This time you use the flashlight on your phone to light your path. The luminescence cuts through the fog as you trudge through it. Leaves crunching beneath your feet, and hands outstretched lightly to use the passing trees as support to persist onward. 

You walk for a good few minutes before you finally spot him. He’s standing by a tall pine tree, his right hand tracing over something etched into the bark. 

“ James! Come back to the campsite!” You whisper yelled, approaching him. He hummed,“ So you are worried about me,” the smugness in his tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you. When he turns to face you his eyes tell you he was expecting you. Like he knew in the end your stubbornness and pride wouldn’t matter because you’d end up following after him after all.

You are worried about him. He needs no further proof than your actions. 

There was a prickling of annoyance building up in your system. More than anything, you wanted to get out of the woods as soon as possible. The campsite feels like a haven awaiting your return. 

“ Can you stop being so insufferably cocky for one second and just come back to the camp before I drag your ass back?” You say through gritted teeth. You wanted to have more bark to your bite, but the inkling dread of what could be out here stopped you from crossing that line. 

He stepped closer to you, the glow of his flashlight reflecting in his eyes in tiny glimmers,“ Why? I thought you didn't care if ���whatever is out there’ got me.”

“ I don’t—but I’d hate to be an accomplice to that thing.” 

“ Admit it. You’re worried about me.”

By now Bucky was mere inches away from you. Having slowly sauntered right up to you. His eyes were daring you to speak the truth—his arrogant smile tempting you to do even more. 

“ I came to get you back, but if you’re determined to stay here then stay,” you huff, spinning on your heels to storm off. 

Bucky’s hand reaches out and encloses your wrist gently. Just enough to keep you from walking away. He sighs with defeated ire. 

“ Sweetheart, why won't you admit—” he’s cut off by the swift movement of something dashing past the both of you. He immediately pulls you in closer, his arms encasing you protectively—his body a shield. One arm is wrapped around your waist while the other holds your head. Your own body leans into his as if bracing for impact. 

From the corner of your eye, you can see the culprit of the racket. A deer dashing through the woods like it had somewhere to be. You held back a laugh at the revelation. 

This is what had you so worried this whole time? A deer? 

Even so, your heart races in your chest. And Bucky has you so tightly pressed into his that you can feel the way his own heart is thrumming rapidly. Both of your breaths work to steady from their instability as you realize there is nothing truly to be worried about. 

You stay like this for what seems like an eternity. Finding comfort in each other’s arms. The fog dances around your figures as if pushing you closer. The tips of your fingers tingle from where they’re pressed at his chest. 

When you finally register whose touch it is, you pull away. Bucky reluctantly lets you go. His arms awkwardly falling to his sides. You don’t know what to say. He doesn’t know where to start.

Why was his instinct to protect you? To keep you from harm’s way? 

And why had you felt the safest all night in his arms? 

You swallow the questions that desire to escape. There’s a part of you that feels like you should thank him, but then the other part feels stupid for wanting to do so. Knowing how much it would feed his ego to vindicate him as a hero. 

“ Guess it was just a deer, huh?” Bucky tries to cut through whatever tension is starting to build. 

“ Yeah…silly us…” you reply, half-heartedly. Your mind still reeling from his touch. 

You both go quiet again. The silence welcomes you where words fail to. 

Out of nowhere, you feel a tiny bead land on your head. Followed by one on your hand and then your cheek. It's beginning to drizzle. The rain cutting through the trees and promising to kiss every inch of your skin. 

“ We should get going,” Bucky says, his palm cupped to catch a few droplets. 

“ Yeah, that’s a good idea,” you agree, clearing your throat. In other circumstances, Bucky would rejoice and point out how, for once, you aren’t arguing with him. But not right now—not at this moment. Not when the memory of holding each other stirred something within you both. 

No, now instead you walk back to the campsite in silence. You’re a few steps ahead as Bucky decides to tow along at a slower pace. Seemingly lost in thought. 

When you’re back at the campsite your eyes dart to your tent. It’s within reach. A safety you can hideout in until the emotions Bucky arose in you fade away.  

“ Can I chill in your tent for a while? Just until the rain stops,” Bucky surprises you with his request. Until you remember he gave up his tent to his friend for the night. 

“ What? No,” your response is immediate. The thought of you and Bucky alone in your tent causes many scenarios to run through your head. You didn’t think you’d make it through the night with him in it. You were barely hanging on as it is. 

“ I just saved your life.” 

“ You did not.”

“ Did too.” 

“ James, you absolutely did not–” 

“ Please,” his soft plea tugs at the very part of you that wants to say yes. He’s not the kind of guy to beg, but he’ll do anything to not stand out in the cold rain. You being in an enclosed space with him was just a bonus. 

An extremely tantalizing bonus. 

“ Fine…but only until the rain stops,” you concede. You weren’t heartless enough to leave him out in the rain. 

You zip open the tent and climb inside. You remove your moccasins and leave them by the entrance. The inside is spacious enough for the two of you, but you still find yourself going into the furthest right corner of it. You sit crossed-legged as you turn on the small LED lantern to illuminate the tent with its muted glow. He makes his way inside, his hair glistening from the rain. He leaves his muddied slides by your moccasins. 

“ This tent is way nicer than the one Sam and I got,” he comments, running a hand through his hair to dispel the droplets. He’s trying to make light conversation, keeping his distance as he sits in the corner by the entrance diagonally from you. 

“ Jane’s family is really into camping so she had this one laying around…” you mention. The oddity of small talk between you fills the space with a foreign dynamic. The rain goes from a sprinkle to a pour. Hitting the top of the fabric cacoon in harsh strokes.  

He chooses to pivot the conversation.“ Do you have everything ready for fall semester?” He asks you, maneuvering to sit with his knees bent, his shirt hiking up the smallest bit to expose the skin at his hips. You avert your gaze when your heart does a little flip. 

“ Almost. I still have one or two textbooks to get,” you reply, playing with a few loose threads of the blanket beneath you. Anything to not have your eyes wander back to him. 

He scoffs lightly,“ You already got your textbooks? There’s no way. I always get ‘em after the first week.” Unlike you, he can’t seem to keep his pretty blues away from you. Your features heightened in the gentle sheen of the lantern. Intricate shadows scattered across your figure that made you look ethereal. The way his heart hammered in his chest romanticizing the sight of you.

“ That's because I’m responsible and you’re not.” 

“ I am responsible. As captain of the baseball team—”

“ Spare me the team leader speech, please,” you groan, stopping him from continuing. There’s only so much you can take for one night. And hearing Bucky light up as he talks about the one thing he’s passionate about—the one thing that humanizes him to you beyond his usual cheeky self. It would do more to you than just make your heart do a little flip.

You’d end up saying or doing something you wouldn’t be able to take back. 

“ Look, Y/n, I’m just trying to make conversation here. You don’t have to be so difficult all the time. Just talk to me,” Bucky brings you out of your thoughts not only by his exasperated tone, but by the way your name rolls off his tongue. He so rarely calls you by it. He’s called you sweetheart endlessly—and he’s even slipped a few sunshines in the mix—but your name was foreign to his vocabulary.  

 Bucky is usually good at dealing with your constant back and forth. Some days it's the only thing he looks forward to. However, right now it was irritating him how much you pushed back. He wanted you to give in. To what, he wasn’t sure. But he wondered what normalcy felt like with you—what just a damn friendly conversation felt like. 

You sigh, meeting his eyes.“ I don’t want to talk. Sorry, I think I’m just tired. Maybe we should go to bed,” you suggest, hoping that if he says yes you can sleep away the bubbling of emotions in your chest. 

You can see the way he contemplates something, biting the inside of his bottom lip. Now he’s the one holding back. A beat passes and you nervously wonder if he’ll turn down your suggestion. 

“ Fine—it's late anyway. But only if I get to sleep next to you. I promise I’ll keep my distance. It’s just there’s water leaking through the zipper at the entrance,” he mentions, his hand motioning to the entry. Your eyes dart to where he’s pointing and sure enough there’s a small puddle of water pooling by it. Not knowing how long the rain would continue, you knew you had to deal with the issue.

You grab Jane’s camping gear that holds numerous amount of supplies in all of its various pockets. She always came extra prepared no matter the occasion. You take out a washcloth, scooting over to the entrance to soak up the forming puddle. You decide to leave it there neatly tucked underneath where the water was finding its way in.

“ Alright, but if you snore I'm kicking you out,” you warn, but it’s more playful than serious. Something to lighten the mood before you go to bed. A way to dissipate whatever tension’s built up so you'd be able to fall asleep. 

It’s hard to cut through the tension and alleviate its symptoms when your shelter from the storm seems to shrink the more you chat with Bucky. And now sitting right next to him—shoulder to shoulder—it seems like a damn near impossible task. 

" I’ll take my chances. But just so you know, I don’t go down without a fight,” he winks at you, your shoulders brushing. Your heart rate picks up and it takes everything within you to stare into his eyes and not focus on the way that simple contact sent a shiver down your spine. 

His eyes drift to your lips causing your breath to hitch. The implications of where this could go are enough to pull you away from his spell. 

“ Goodnight,” you choke out. Subtly rushing over to your sleeping bag and settling into it. You don’t see when he shakes his head, but you do hear how he chuckles lowly. He mumbles something under his breath, but you can’t pick it up. 

He makes his way over to Jane’s sleeping bag, but lays on top of it instead of nestling into it. Choosing to cover himself only in the maroon fleece blanket that was draped over your body too. 

“ Goodnight,” he finally says, his body turning to face away from you. You respond by turning off the lantern. The space is now engulfed by darkness. Only the faintest of light shines in from the outside, letting your eyes trace the outlines of objects. 

 You turn to your side. Your back facing his. You take a deep breath, concentrating on the sound of the rain to hopefully lull you into a slumber. But the air felt too thick and your body was burning up from the heat radiating under the blanket. There was a good foot or so separating your body and Bucky’s. And yet, you could feel the heat radiating off of him as if he was pressed up right against you. 

It was too much. You swore you started sweating, so you shuffled under the covers and out of the sleeping bag. Every movement slow and deliberate as if to not snap the rope keeping the palpable tension in place. 

When only the plush fleece covered your body, the heat radiated less. But the fluttering of the blanket caused Bucky’s cologne to waft your way. A pleasant scent of musky woodiness with a hint of something that was entirely him. You gripped the cover tightly and counted to ten in your head. You were going mad. 

“ Would you stop hogging the blanket? ” Bucky muttered from beside you. There were a lot of things he wanted to tell you to stop doing. Because you and your constant fidgeting were driving him crazy. Every fiber of his being holding back from doing something to snap that rope. 

You didn’t realize you had been pulling it your way until he mentioned it. Your grip on it loosened,“ Sorry. I wasn’t hogging it though,” you argued for no reason other than to fill the silence. 

“ Yes, you were.” 

“ No, I wasn’t.” 

There was something about the proximity of your bodies that made the blanket seem smaller. Like there was no possible way it could equally cover both of your sleeping forms. Maybe this is what caused you to then tug at it, however, he holds it firmly to himself too.  

Persistently you pull at the blanket again. He pulls back—a tug of war ensues between you. You can hear him huff in the darkness, but you're not letting up. Bucky couldn't care less about the blanket. He only cared about not letting you get the upper hand. His competitive streak showing.  

While you solely really didn’t want to let him win. 

You wrap the end of the blanket around yourself—almost like a cacoon. The delicate fleece encases you. Leaving the bare minimum amount for Bucky to cover himself with. 

“ You have got to be one of the most stubborn people I have ever met in my goddamn life,” he practically growls as he yanks forcefully on the blanket. A tiny yelp escapes you as you get pulled along with it. 

You underestimated the strength of the star pitcher. 

You end up on top of him. The blanket now an extra cushy barrier between your bodies. In the dim light, your eyes lock, and you can faintly see the outline of a boyish grin on his face. You don’t move away. There’s like an invisible force that keeps you there. Your body pressed against his feeling his warmth tenfold. You can’t tell if either of you are breathing because all you're aware of now is how his heart beats in time with yours. 

“ You’re insufferable you know that?” you swallow hard, your voice lacking its usual bite.

“ You sure about that, sweetheart?” he challenges, his voice barely above a whisper. His lips brushing against yours with feather-light contact.

When had your lips gotten so close? 

You don’t know who leans in first. The one who finally breaks the standoff because your lips seem to meet at the same time. The kiss is sweet, but with a slight hesitance to it. As if neither of you are completely sure the other wants this. Or more like neither of you believes this is happening. However, when his hands grip the back of your thighs, sliding your legs from on top of him to his sides so you straddle him—you believe it. And when your hands find themselves threading in his hair—he believes it. 

One kiss that tests the waters turns into one that slowly sinks into the feeling. Until the two of you fully submerge into the depths of whatever has been simmering between you for what seems like too long. Delicate kisses that get more heated—more intense as your lips continue to meet. Bucky beams at the fact that you’re no longer pushing, but pulling into him. His craving for you only increasing now that he’s had a taste. 

His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, slow and gentle. Asking for permission to deepen the kiss. Bucky Barnes isn’t the type to be slow and gentle—but when it comes to you he finds himself wanting to relish every second he gets. Not knowing when he’ll get another moment like this with you again. 

Your lips part enough for him to slip his tongue in to truly kiss you like he wanted to. As soon as you grant access he takes full opportunity to explore every corner of your mouth. His tongue molding with yours in fervor. Your fingers lightly tug at his hair while his hands roam your body memorizing every curve and dip. Wherever he gripped and caressed, his touch left heat in its wake. 

A heat you had to contain before it consumed you both. 

“ If you think you’re getting lucky tonight—think again. This is the most you’ll get,” You say breathlessly, pulling away to help your lungs remember what oxygen is. 

He groans, breath panting, the outline of his pout evident in the dim light,“ Don’t do this to me, sweetheart. Can’t leave me like this.” His voice a desperate whine that allured you to keep going. 

“ Too bad. You're dreaming if you think this is going any further.” 

“ God, you don’t wanna know what I've dreamed about.” 

“ Shut up,” you cut off his groan with another kiss. Fierce enough to silence him immediately. He hopes you shut him up like this more often. 

Your lips meet again in a hasty lock. No hesitation now as your tongues meet quicker. You seem to be obsessed with his hair as you run your fingers through it again. He shivers at the touch. His hands slide under your sweater to trail along your soft skin. Keeping his hands along your back and waist. Teetering around the boundary you drew, so he didn’t get carried away. But it was hard when kissing you felt as good as throwing the perfect game—maybe even better.

He realizes the emotions you bring out of him are worth a lifetime waiting for.

He pulls away this time to catch his breath, his hands sliding up your body to cup your face,“ I’m in no rush, sweetheart. I’ve got all the time in the world to take it all the way—make you fall for me.” 

You hum, leaning into his touch,“ You seem sure of yourself. ”

His voice is rough yet affectionate when he speaks,“ I’m sure of you, sweetheart. You’re worth every second, and I’m not stopping until you see it too.” 

He gives you one final tender kiss. One that's full of promise for the future. You weren’t sure if it was his words or the meaning in the kiss that stole your breath away. 

After a few seconds, you both pull away. Separating your bodies from each other to provide that much-needed space before lines were crossed.

“ Goodnight, Bucky,” you say, staring up at the ceiling, wondering how you would keep your hands and lips to yourself come tomorrow. Bucky’s heart skipped a beat when you called him by his nickname. Bringing a genuine smile to his face, loving the way it sounded coming from you. 

“ Goodnight, Y/n.”

Even after saying goodnight, the two of you can’t fall asleep immediately. You try to, but there are small moments in the night where you drift back to each other. Where in the darkness your lips meet again and again—satiating the tension in parts. Where your hands find themselves under the covers and layers of clothing. Flaming the fans of desire just enough so it doesn’t completely burn out, but smoldering to be reignited at any moment’s chance. 

You don’t realize when you fall asleep. Your eyelids growing heavy at some point tangled up in his body under the covers. Your face in the crook of his neck. His head resting on top of yours. Your bodies fit like puzzle pieces like they were meant to be connected in every way. 

It’s not until that morning when you wake up and find yourself in his arms, snuggled into his side, that the events of last night sink in. You pull away the tiniest bit. Merely enough to be able to get a look at him. The brown strands of his hair tousled and clinging to his forehead. The slope of his nose, his dark lashes fanned delicately against his skin, and the tiniest parting of his lips. He looks peaceful—almost angelic as he slumbers. 

You’re itching to sketch the image in front of you. 

You can’t stop yourself from reaching out to touch the strands at his forehead. It’s enough to have his eyes flutter open, their color brighter in the daylight. He gives you a lazy smile the instant he realizes last night wasn’t a dream and you really were here, nestled in his arms. 

No words were exchanged, but both of you were conscious of the line you had drawn last night. And yet, you both also knew that in time, that line would be crossed again and again. Until the line blurred into oblivion.

[boytearscore]

i dare you to try. — chris sturniolo.

summary: you finally decided to join a car video with the triplets after years of them trying to convince you to, but when the topic “who’s more stubborn, you or chris?” is brought up, things take a peculiar turn in which chris is sure he can be the first guy you beg for, so you dare him to try.

warnings: fem!dom, chris!dom, smut, teasing, foreplay, swearing, choking, orgasm denial, size kink, bdsm.

taglist: @chericherrybaby, @fratbrochrisgf, @sturncakez <33

author’s note: so... funny story, girls... i got home from work last night and started writing but fell asleep with my phone on my face. hope you can forgive me, though. anyways, enjoyyy! xo 💋💋💋

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 (𝟸/𝟸)

friday night, 9pm. 

you smile excitedly as you are getting ready to a party at the triplets house, eyes and hands are focused on the eyeliner, red lipstick already highlighting the lips and a black short dress moulding your curves. on top of that, underneath it, you were wearing orange lingerie. chris favorite colour, was it a little petty? yes, but you’re not about to lose this dare. absolutely no fucking way.

when you finished recording the video with them, nick had the idea of throwing a party the next day, he wanted to see chaos between you and chris for his own entertainment and so did matt. chris, on the other hand, has already been sending you risky texts and some pictures of his covered hard dick and other parts of the body he knew you were attracted to with captions like “give up already.” and “can’t wait to hear you beg and moan my name.”

you ignored all of it just to give him the impression you were threatened and shy when in reality, there was a whole plan ready to be put in action since he opened his mouth.

finally, you’re done. everything looked impeccable: hair falling over your chest that was mostly exposed by the dress cleavage, a pair of black tights that were connected to the lingerie and black leather boots that went to your knees, not to mention you smell incredible.

after checking yourself one more time in the mirror, a smirk painted in your lips, chris was not ready for that. 

it was 10:30pm when you arrived at their house, loud music playing and people everywhere dancing, drinking and even throwing up.

you calmly go through the crowd of people when a pair of hands suddenly grab your hips pressing both bodies and you feel lips into your ear. the person didn’t even need to say anything, you could tell who it was by their scent.

“ready to be my little slut?” you feel the hot breath caressing your skin and the deep voice with a stupid cocky chuckle.

“not even in your dreams, christopher.” you reply, turning to him. matt and nick behind him laughing, that’s definitely the most fun they’ve been having in a while.

he smirks and you couldn’t stop yourself from eyeing his body, he has a black tank top that was complimenting his collar bones, shoulders and abdomen. 

and chris would notice you savouring him, but he was too busy staring at your boobs. his mind racing with the thoughts of cumming all over them.

“it feels like i’m watching a porn without the sex part, just the eyes.” matt says and you both break glances at each other laughing.

“is no one gonna grab me a drink?” you ask, rolling your eyes and nick give you a “excuse me?” look.

“you’ve been here more than our parents, go get it yourself.” he replies and you just shrug.

“fucking worst host ever.” you murmur making sure he heard before going to the kitchen and opening the fridge, all you could think of was chris.

he looked so hot wearing that damn black tank top, why didn’t you notice how attractive he was before the bet? it’s like a blindfold was taken away from your eyes, you imagined him on his knees, pleading and whimpering in front of you. things got even more interesting now.

you grab a drink and take a huge sip, ignoring the burning feeling in your throat and walking again through the people, some you knew, some not. you danced either way, a few guys eyeing you from afar and then one came behind you, dancing.

“you alone?” he whispered into your ear and you smiled, turning to him and grabbing his hands to dance.

“always.” he smiles back at you, rolling you around and grabbing your hips. you started dancing, he was cute and really hot.

that didn’t last much, though. 

someone abruptly grabbed your hand, making you look behind you with an angry expression. 

“today you’re not.” 

it was chris.

the guy just stared at chris and vanished away not wanting any trouble, you glance at the blue eyed boy, giving him the dirtiest look.

“what?” he shrugs, smiling. “i’m not sharing you with anyone today, whether you like it or not.”

you give him an eye roll but you’re not mad, it’s not like that guy was hotter than chris anyway.

“don’t ever grab my hand like that again.” you tell him with a serious face and he just nods, looking apologetic. “only if i allow you to.”

you get closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and rocking your body to the music. chris instantly smiles, his hands pressing hard on your hips. your fingers running to his hair, and you can’t help but push them back making him gasp.

“you’re such a menace.” he whispers, a hand sliding to your ass and turning you around.

you could feel everything, his hips crushing into yours and his dick getting harder everytime you brushed your ass while dancing. part of your plan was working and you didn’t even get started yet.

you turn to chris and place your hand around his neck, nails scratching it slightly causing him goosebumps.

he couldn’t resist the temptation, grasping your back and leaning in for a kiss, but you stopped him with a finger on his lips.

“not yet.” you smirk at him and he stares at you confused. “just shut your mouth and just follow me, or you won’t be having any fun tonight.” he thinks for a while and nods, not saying anything, the finger drawing a straight line down from his lips to his collar, dragging him upstairs.

when you both get to his room, he closes the door and throws you on the bed, getting on top of your body and pressing his torso against you.

you smirk, just watching him trying his best to be dominant, suddenly, his hand slid underneath your dress, touching slightly your inner thigh. you let out a small sigh, his hand was so warm and it felt so good.

“look at ya.” he mumbled into your ear, moving his hand closer to your pussy. “i’m not doing anything yet and you’re already gasping.”

you don’t say anything, just letting him play his game before yours starts. chris chuckles, amused by your unusual reaction, that motivated him to keep going.

his face close to yours, eyes staring at your lips before shutting them down and brushing both slightly against each other.

you wrap your arms around his neck, messing with his hair and he finally kisses you. not a gentle kiss, an obscene one. tongues fighting and wet sounds, chris can’t help but moan when he feels your nails digging on his back. 

his hand finally touches your pussy covered by the lingerie and you moan biting his bottom lip. he laughs, breaking the contact and looks at you, usually that would be the perfect moment for a cocky comment, but he couldn’t fight the urge to tear apart your black tights and pull the dress to your waist, revealing the orange lingerie.

he’s stunned by a second, moving away from your body to take a better look.

“you fucking bitch.” he says, grabbing your chin and bringing you close to his face agresseviely. “you did this on purpose, didn’t you? to tease me.” he asks while using the other hand to undress you completely. “you’re such a slut, ya know that?” he throws you again on the bed, an expression on his face you’ve never seen before.

you smile, opening your legs in front of him and looking beneath lashes, still not saying anything. too bad for chris, but you knew him more than himself. he loves to talk shit and act all nonchalant, but he hates when people don’t engage or ignore it.

chris frowned, staring between your legs and to drive him even more mad, you placed a hand on your inner thigh, slowly going up until it got to your pussy, your fingers teasing it over the lingerie and moaning and making faces while staring intensely at his eyes.

the boy is speechless, he never got so hard and never felt this urgent need to fuck someone before. the sound of your voice moaning and the way you touched yourself, he was mesmerised by everything.

“chris…” you finally use one of your cards, biting your lips and moaning his name.

he can’t hold himself anymore, chris takes off his shirt and pants, still wearing boxes and walks towards you, the smirk on his face vanished a long time ago, all you could see was pure lust.

“you’re driving me crazy by doing that.” he leans against you, using one knee to support himself over the bed, making sure to rub your wet pussy with it. “that’s a dangerous game, i’m warning you.”

you can’t help but laugh, lifting one leg up to reach his dick and rubbing it slowly, his lips parted into a loud moan, tilting his head to the back.

“it seems to me you’re the one about to beg, chris.” for the first time in minutes, you spoke. he immediately looks at you, not liking your comment one bit but feeling his dick twitch.

“that’s rich coming from someone who just moaned my name like a slut.” he replies, grabbing you leg and dragging you to him, now you are completely laid down on the bed, he bends over to reach your waist and slides your panties till your ankle.

“i’m keeping this.” he smirks and throws the orange lingerie on his nightstand. “alright, i’m gonna eat you out till you cum all over my face.” he gets on his knees, leaning closer to your dripping wet pussy. you could feel his breath hitting the sensitive area and that made you shiver. 

“thought you were gonna make me beg.” you say, watching every single move he makes. chris licks your clit without warning, causing loud moans from you. “fuck.”

he laughs, staring at you between your legs, hands spreading them as much as he can.

“no silly, i’m gonna make you beg me to fuck you.” he groaned, finally eating you out deliciously, his tongue alternating between flexing the muscles while inside you and letting it loose when sucking and licking all of it.

you grab his hair violently, pushing it hard while rolling your hips into his mouth. 

chris was getting harder by second, to the point his dick started to hurt a little. he was moaning and eating you out at the same time, the vibrations causing you an insane amount of pleasure.

“fuck, chris.” you whisper, biting your lips to hide how much you were enjoying it. no guy has ever eaten you out like that before.

so much so that you were about to cum into his mouth, your legs started shaking and the grip on his hair got tighter. he notices your body reactions and smirk, licking and sucking even more faster and intensely.

your moans get louder, you feel contractions through your whole body, soon releasing all the pleasure and cumming into chris mouth.

he licks everything, letting your pussy clean and gets on the bed, crawling on top of you. you smiled at him and he could sense something coming but decided to ignore, all he wanted was to hear the magic words from your pretty mouth.

“i bet i’m the first guy to make you cum that fast, huh?” he says finally being face to face with you, his hard covered dick brushing against your bare pussy and both arms on each side of your head, you were so close that you could feel his heartbeats pressed over your chest, he reach your neck, kissing and sucking on it making soft gasps come out of your lips. 

“beg me.” he murmured in your ear, one hand grabbing your boob and squeezing it hard. the pain felt so good, but you’re not about to lose. “beg me to fuck your little pussy.”

he stares at you, his hand going lower until it reaches your core, sliding one finger inside. your back curves, but you smile at him not showing signs of redemption.

and that’s when you decided it’s time.

with a quick move, you revert the positions, thanks to all the self defence classes you took a long time ago, getting a man off top of you wasn’t hard. 

chris was shocked, his eyes widened and his lips suddenly opened like he was about to say something but couldn’t.

“you’ve failed.” you tell him, smirking. both of his hands were on top of his head, held by yours. with an evil expression, you press your ass against his dick and he melts under you. “it’s my turn now.”

you go for his lips first, and even though his ego was bruised by the fact that you could easily turn the situation to your favour, he’s too horny to care.

both lips were crashing hard while tongues enlaced, the grip of your hand holding his writs got even tighter when he started to move them, the other one was slowly creeping to his abdomen, chris moaned and gasp onto your lips and when you finally reached his dick, removing his boxers to expose his hard cock.

and then something slaps your back, making you look behind.

“holy shit.” you opened your mouth, turning yourself completely to make sure you saw correctly. “you’re fucking huge, chris.”

he laughs, finding your reaction cute and sitting on the bed when you let his hands go.

“think you can take it?” he asks and you stare back at him, smiling.

“only if you beg me first.” you reply, grabbing his dick and teasing the tip of it with your finger, chris closes his eyes and moans a curse word. “c’mon..” you whisper, slowly pumping him and his back curves. “beg me.”

“please…” he murmured, avoiding your gaze.

you smirk, feeling your pussy dripping. he looked so fucking hot doing that. 

since chris was sitting, you easily extended your arm to his hair, pulling it hard to make him stare at you.

“say it again.” you order him spreading all the pre cum over the base of his dick and pulling harder his hair, chris was losing his mind at this point.

“please, let me fuck you.” he asks almost politely with his eyes glued on yours, his cheeks were a slight shade of pink and his red glossy lips parted, letting out shaken breaths. 

you don’t answer, just push his shoulders to the bed making him fall and lifting yourself up to get on top of him again, the gaze between both of you was so intense and sexual.

you positioned his cock on your entry, teasing him a little by rolling your hips and chris bite his lip, you didn’t wanted him to fuck you, you wanted to fuck him.

and so you did, sliding his dick slowly inside you with a frown expression and eyes closed.

“does it hurt?” he asks worriedly, grabbing your hips with both hands and fighting the urge to make you jump hard on him.

“yes.” you reply opening your eyes, starting to bounce at a slow pace. “that’s how i like it.”

you feel his dick twitch inside you with your comment, he slaps one of your ass cheeks hard, and you moan loudly.

“you like that, huh?” one more slap, this time harder. you were already bouncing crazy on his dick and both of you were moaning so much that if the loud music wasn’t playing downstairs, everyone would hear. and honestly, none of you cared.

“shit.” chris growns, digging his short nails on your waist. you leaned a little to wrap your finger around his throat and he closes his eyes, gasping. 

“so much for a dom.” you say with a shaky voice from the bouncing, tightening the grip around his neck.

he doesn’t say anything, his mind was fuzzy and raced. all he could do was moan and whimper loudly. 

the twitches got stronger and you could tell he was about to cum.

“gonna cum?” you ask him and he nods desperately, but then you stop moving. he looks at you, a mixture of annoyance and pleasure. “say you’re my little slut, chris.” you incline over, rolling your hips in slow motion and biting his bottom lip. “say it.”

he lets out a huge sigh with the painful feeling of holding an orgasm, his eyes locked into yours, a few hair strands falling over them and sweat dripping from his forehead.

“i’m your little slut.” he whispers, pressing his hands hard on your waist.

you smile at him, finally moving faster. chris feels the lack of oxygen with the combination of an insane amount of pleasure get to his head. he looks at you like he’s about to say something and you notice his hesitation.

“what?” 

“can i please cum on your boobs?” he avoids your gaze again and you feel like squeezing his cheeks, finally you nod. bouncing a couple more times and when he finally starts shaking, you get off of his lap, sitting on your knees.

chris gets up, he tries to grab his own dick, but you slap his hand.

“who the fuck said you could touch yourself?” you smirk, leading a hand wrap around his cock and begins to leisurely pump, chris tilts his head back, coming all over your boobs while you could capture every detail, his husky voice and his dick twitching uncontrollably while lots of cum shower your boobs, you made sure to get it all to your fingers and lick until there’s nothing left there.

slowly, his moans got quieter and he finishes cumming. he looks down at you, smiling and lending you a hand to get up, you smile back and grab his hand getting up.

“i fucking hate you.” he groans, pushing you closer to him by the hand and you laugh.

“that’s what someone who just lost a bet would say.” you reply and give him a little peck, he just rolls his eyes and laughs too.

“i’m doomed.” he slapped himself while you were putting back your dress, making you chuckle.

“don’t worry, my little slut.” you say calmly while putting back your boots. “you’re safe with me.” you say, giving him a wink and grabbing his tank top, throwing it at him. “you should use this more often though.”

chris squinted his eyes and a grin formed on his lips.

“will i fuck you everytime i wear this again?” he asks and you get up, turning to him.

“no, i’m the one who’s gonna fuck you.” 

when you both were properly dressed, chris opens the door so you two could go downstairs, but something was waiting for him right outside.

“i believe you have something to say, chris.” nick and matt were leaned against the wall, arms crossed and lips pressed trying hard not to laugh.

but you can’t control yourself, letting a loud laugh come out of your lips, making them unable to control themselves as well. the only one serious was chris, who rolled his eyes and stared at the three of you, sighing loudly.

“fine…” he groans and turn to you, at least he got the best fuck of his life, so he wasn’t that mad. “i was wrong.”

you, nick and matt burst out laughing again and chris holds in for a while, but soon enough he’s laughing too. 

[corollaservant]

Sweet Delight // Gojo x f!reader (18+)

Synopsis: You are too nice to be serving rude customers for minimum wage. Rest assured that Satoru will take care of it.

Warnings: yandere, obsessive behavior, noncon/very dubious consent, somno, stalking, knives, deception, mind games, murder mentions, violence (not to reader).. that's all.

A/N: Yan!Gojo is Joe Goldberg to me, idk. Beta read by my guy bsf who said the ending sucked (inspired by quote used in this book)

It started on a Friday afternoon.

He was a regular, came to the store every day to get his coffee. No sugar. Iced. The order was unlike him, he seemed sweet, or at least friendly and inviting, he had the type of eyes your friends gushed over when talking about their favorite movie stars, too blue, too inquiring.

At first he smiled and handed you a bill, told you to keep the change and asked you if he could sit outside for a bit. Of course, why wouldn’t he? The store offered it and he knew it, he was just being polite. He would read from a book, whose cover you couldn’t see, seemed too absorbed and you often wondered how he could concentrate with the café’s obnoxiously loud music (owner’s order to attract customers). He’d more than often catch bystanders attention, be it his white hair, his tall physique or his peculiar blindfold, which he wore sometimes instead of sunglasses, the man was attracting people like a magnet. This one time a couple of girls sat down next to him and talked purposefully loud. He lifted his chair and brought it closer to the register, closer to you. Yet, he still didn’t speak.

The first time he spoke to you besides a thanks and can I sit outside for a bit was when a customer harassed you verbally. You got the order wrong and while you offered a second free drink, he started calling you worthless. Your eyes watered and voice broke as he stepped in

“Please do not offend the barista, it was a simple mistake.” He spoke calmly while being twice the size of the customer.

“This is none of your business, sir..” The customer scoffed as he tried standing upright to make himself taller.

“I said.” Satoru sighed “Please get the fuck out the store or it will be..sir.” While there wasn't any physical threat, the tone was convincing enough to have the customer backtrack, hiss and leave the store empty handed.

“I'm sorry for that.” You told him as he looked at you.

“Don't be, this wasn't your fault.”

“I'm Satoru by the way, remember me?”

Of course you did, he was the most loyal customer.

—

It happened on a Friday afternoon.

Your shift started at 1 PM and ended at 9 PM sharp. Satoru had a meticulous routine: 1-3 was for observing. He wouldn't call it stalking, no, that word was degenerate and he wasn't like that. He was just observing you, your hands, as they moved, expressions as you skimmed milk and some of it spilled on the counter, your interactions with customers. He couldn't risk another incident like before. 3-6 was when he usually made an appearance. Black coffee. No sugar, iced and the table just across the bar; close but not too close. He was disappointed today, you hadn't looked at him once—well, in your defense the café was crowded, yet you still looked gorgeous, even with your sleep deprived eyes and disheveled hair, so soft and pure. He loved that. What would it take for him to get your attention? He found himself balancing between proclaiming his feelings and showing you them but decided on the latter. He would—today.

6-9 he had to wait in his car this time, it was raining but he couldn't leave you out of his sight, what if something happened to you? Your stupid manager had you close the store at 9 PM all alone in the dark, what a cheapskate cunt, not hiring a second person on the shift. Should he kill him? No, that’d be too soon. He would make an appearance before nine anyway.

8:40 was when he got out of the car, sloppily wearing a balaclava he’d gotten from Suguru (his seventh grade ninja Halloween costume) and his usual black work uniform. A knife was in his hands as he noticed you from across the road washing some cups. Perfect, you weren't looking but also careless of you, exactly as expected. He barged in the store and tried his hardest to make his voice drop an octave deeper, shit, would you recognize him?

“Give me your money or I'll stab you.” He was laughing internally but had to put on a fake growl, your expression was priceless.

“P—please don't kill me!” was the first thing you said (brokenly mewled) as your poor hands started shaking.

“I said now.” He said as he stabbed the blade in the air. Damn, that was too easy, you were too gullible.

“P–please I will, I–I am all alone.. one moment–'' Poor you, you had already started crying, tears were falling down your face but you didn't seem to notice. Should he stop this now? Probably.

“How incompetent are you? Are you this slow with customers too?” He decided to tease you a little longer, thriving off of your reactions.

Your eyes shot up for a brief second, was it the customer with Satoru a few days ago? He had said something along these lines, but this couldn't be. He was way shorter and had stopped coming ever since Satoru put him in his place. You were thankful for that.

Your hands opened the register as the paper bills you held threatened to soak, you still had one glove on... you looked a bit silly.

“Hey, hey..” Satoru’s voice quickly returned as the mask was removed “It's just me, see?” He whispered, trying to soothe the tone as your eyes widened.

“S–Satoru, what!?” Your voice trembled as the money fell from your hands and you took a step back.

“I wanted to pull a prank on you, I'm sorry if I scared you.” He smiled apologetically but you still couldn't utter a word.

“W-why would you do that? That's sick!” You cried out as he came behind the bar and tried to pull you in an embrace, knife now tucked in his jacket. To get close to you, to teach you a lesson, to make you need me would be his answer. You punched him on the chest, muffled cries fell from your lips. Well... you couldn't land a blow, that was for sure, but you looked cute with your clenched fists taking out your anger on him.

“F–fuck you!” His firm hands stopped your weak, aimless punches and you sobbed on his chest. You smelled divine, even at the end of your shift.

Was this love?

“Hey.. come on now, I said I'm sorry, okay?” He said as he pulled away.

“Came to say I'll stay with you till 9, it's not safe out there.” He promised as you wordlessly returned to the sink. He'd make you love him.

Around 9:10 you closed the store. His prank had slowed you down, exactly as expected, he figured it wasn't often you lost control and he was proud it affected you. It made you susceptible to control. You silently sat with Satoru outside while he insisted on driving you home.

“I don't need a ride. I'm fine.” It wasn't funny to tamper with your feelings like that, he didn't seem like the type and he'd taken you by surprise; actions like these didn't align with the image he painted for himself. He was always so kind, so protective, so—

“Give me the fucking store keys!” was heard before you turned your attention to the voice ahead of you. A man shouted, not too loud to alert anyone but enough to make a point. The street was empty and he was holding what seemed like a paper bag as you turned to Satoru.

This surely had to be another one of his pranks? You were about to laugh when you looked at him. He seemed taken aback, frozen in his spot and his eyes squinted as your heartbeat accelerated.

“What is it with this neighborhood and robberies?” Satoru talks after a while, his tone is confident as he looks at you and the guy growls. Why is he so calm?What is going on?—

“Shut the fuck up and give me the keys or I'll fucking blow your heads off!” The man says moving his hand to your direction, was this guy bluffing? Did he even have anything under the bag? Was your life about to end? It wasn't like people didn't talk about the criminals in the neighborhood—you’d never work there if it wasn't for necessity.

“And if we don't?” Satoru stops you from reaching for the keys as he fights hard to wipe off the grin on his face. Well, that was unexpected, but he isn't scared, he never is, as you interrupt.

“Satoru! P–please! Let me give him the keys!” You cry out, the day straight out of a nightmare the longer it drags on and you honestly can't put up another fight. You'd rather have whoever this was steal an insignificant amount of money from the register than end your life. Sure, there wasn't much to live for, but it was always different when under real threat.

“You’d give him the keys, really?” He scoffs annoyed. He couldn’t believe what a victim you were, couldn't you see he was right there for you? Despite his abilities you still failed to see him. Silly you.

“What c-can we do? He..he– and we–” Was this really the time? Why is he even negotiating this?

“Bitch, stop talking.” The guy spits, tired of your back and forth, as Satoru finally addresses him.

“That’s not very nice.” He is calm.

So calm that you almost don't see his fist obliterating the guy. One punch and he's knocked down, Satoru climbs on top.He pulls his fists down interchangeably but it's fast and you can't count, must be about seven that leave the guy with no time to react, hands to his sides as he yelps. Satoru reaches for his pocket and is about to grab the knife, when he feels two warm hands touch him and he turns around.

“P–please! Let's just go home!” You sob, eyes wide and the pain in your voice breaks his heart. Home, you said? He gets up and kicks the man’s limbs like a soccer ball—blood oozes down his mouth onto the curb and he chokes on some of it. Satoru's knuckles are stained but he gives you his hand as the pulp ahead withers.

Home.

-

He gave you clothes, a sleep set he had in his closet, you’d never know it was specifically tailored and cut out to your size, how would you know? It’s not like he’d tell you he stole (he called it borrow) articles you discarded at work. Your jacket when too hot, a change of pants as he brought them to the store's bathroom and returned them just as discreetly at 5:30 PM. They smelled like you, but he couldn’t categorize the odor, it was too hard. As for the color.. that he didn't care about. Anything would work really. His mind couldn't stop racing when he heard the shower head start, you'd never agree to his hospitality but that was his home, his rules. You also had a very rough day and it didn't take a lot to convince you.

He offered you his bed, he’d sleep on the couch and despite you objecting, he got you to comply. He could only imagine how much today drained you— physically and mentally. He let you sleep, he wasn't some monster, plus he had work to do. You’d wake up around 9, he calculated, so he had time.

When he finally sat down the couch, he couldn't sleep. Knowing you were there, so close and so vulnerable broke him. He didn't wait for his hair to dry — spot cleaning blood on the sink stole away his energy as he slipped on the bed, you were facing the wall and he placed his arms around you. You made no noise but you didn't seem to be sleeping heavily either, you’d slightly toss and turn. Poor you, was it a nightmare? He smelled your shampoo, it wasn't yours really but a variation of the ones you had at home as his fingers went through strands of your hair. He came closer, wanting to feel your body's heat and moved to your chest. His fingers sought your heart as he felt your pulse. A cock pressed against you—he’d been hard for some time and it wouldn’t go away as his palms searched for your nipples. One pinch and they were already hard, shit, he thought as he moved his dick on you. What if he went lower? Would you be a good girl for him? He moved to your belly as he put one leg softly over you, angling his cock directly at your cunt's entrance from behind while he rubbed against the folds, palms finding you from the front. He loved this embrace, all his to play with. He traced the slit and rubbed some more. You felt so soft and tempting. He’d bet no one could protect you like him and that gave him motivation. Yeah, that was right, he deserved a little thank you for his hard work. He fondles your cunt while his stiff cock annoys him, he’ll deal with it later. He buries a finger inside you, your cunt is wet, he thinks and you're not even conscious. Satoru pumps it slowly, it lubricates you in the process as it coats him halfway—he groans far from your ear and pushes another. You inhale sharply.

He pops them in and out until he fears he's becoming too fast so he removes his palm and uses your slick for his pleasure now. Boxers and sweatpants are removed as he wraps around the shaft, his precum gets smeared on his cockhead and he brings it down his base, it creates a wet mess and he gets off on it. He doesn't need much visually, your back softly breathing is enough to pump faster but— you felt so warm, he reasons, should he? You’d be his soon enough so might as well. He quickly turns to your side and lowers the set you're wearing (you'd think he intentionally sized up so it'd be easier to pull them down) as he pushes your panties to the side. You were a naughty girl, wearing a thong to work. Too dangerous, the world had many perverts. He puts his stiff cock on your entrance as he tries to shove just the head first; he hisses at the contact and you move, it's too late to back down now and he grows desperate. Within a second he tilts his hips into your needy cunt—he doesn't flatter himself, he's big so it's no surprise you groan and he assumes open your eyes. You feel tight and warm and he doesn’t care about your shock—he’s close.

“What.. agh—what are you doing?!” You're cut off in between moans as he ruts into you, you choke on a cry and he picks up his pace. His cock is stuffing you to the brim, it hurts but he can't be considerate. You feel like you can't breathe, dizzy from a nap and a repeated thump down your core. Yet, a primal instinct of pleasure washes away a conscious you telling yourself it's wrong and fuck— you moan out his name. Why do you moan?

“Shit, couldn't help myself, sorry baby.” He breathes out as he bucks his hips up and you feel too full.

“Satoru! S–stop...” But your pleas fall on deaf ears as he continues, hands caressing your chest and his breath on your neck while your hips are brought to clash onto his and nasty sounds come from the contact.

“Fuck, so pretty, baby, hm?” He moans and he’s already close, cock throbs as you prettily squeeze him in. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt like this before, it’s like you’re made perfectly to accommodate him and look at you!—clenching your cunt like some slut.

“N–ugh– Satoru please—” You cry out, scared but with a heat coiling low that makes you unable to protest louder. You think of his kind eyes, heartwarming grin (“Got these bad boys for you”, as he gave you your favorite cookies) but soon they're gone away—

—replaced by his cock rutting in your damp walls. You're unwillingly sucking him in, you can't think straight, he's... good? No. He's disgusting for this. Water blurs your eyesight—it's too much.

A hand is on your clit as he bites your soft neck at the same time. God, how he longed for this. Having you in his arms. He adored you.

“Want to come on my cock, like the helpless slut you are, baby?” He whispers but it's soft—like he's teasing you for missing the bus and you cry.

“I- agh-n-no..please—” You muffle and beg and his hand circling your clit slaps on the nub repeatedly as you jerk; “I can't—I–” He doesn't pay attention, his cock is ripping you apart and you have to let go—riding out an unwarranted orgasm. He loves your mess, no, he loves you and since you're conscious (not that it'd matter), he lifts your leg up as he angles himself so deep, you yell; overstimulated and still scared.

“Satoru, e–enough!” He's bottoming out in between sticky walls and you ache, hoping for an end.

“Don't be selfish baby—fuck!” He groans as large palms squeeze around your neck and then he's cumming — fast and as much as possible, you think. It feels warm and disgusting, his breathy moans are on your ear as you force your eyes shut. What doesn't make it inside, seeps back out but it’s not a lot, since you’re fully stuffed and he takes his sweet time to pull out. You just feel that good. He plants a kiss on your back as he returns with towels and puts you back to sleep. You cry—he estimates 15 minutes before you give up and let sleep take care of you.

One step at a time.

-

It's your 3 month anniversary. He doesn't tell you that of course, its embarrassing because it's 3 months since he found you, 2 days since he introduced himself. You still work at the café but you don't have to worry, soon you’ll never have to work again, he has big plans. He is proud of himself for finding you, it wasn't often someone intrigued him so much. He liked how genuine you were, naive and a bit dumb of course but that was exactly what made you so pure. He’d bet even at your lowest, you'd never cuss anyone out. Like for example that cunt of a customer the other day but it was fine, he’d do it for you, actually—

A message from Suguru pops up.

“Comin tonight?”

“No, have plans.” He gets bored easily and this time isn't an exception.

“Again? New record?” He can always read Suguru's irony. Funny of him to think he'd stop there.

“I told you I’d take care of it.” Satoru hastily types.

That guy really shouldn't have called you a bitch, it wasn't even in the script. Look where that got him. In Satoru's trunk ready to meet Mr. Worthless. He shuts his phone, he thinks about throwing it away, there's no need for it anyways. Especially when you're here.

He thinks about some quote his dad used to tell him, how did it go? Some are born to sweet delight—

14 minutes till your shift ends. What was it?

—some are born to endless night? It all makes sense now, it rhymes, that's why he still remembers it.

Or maybe you just give the first part a meaning.

[666soulz]

rapper!connie first run in with fashionvlogger!reader was…interesting. you answered a question from a fan on twitter who asked if you could style one rapper who would it be? you replied saying, ‘connie springer, his music don’t match his style. he dressing like a regular hood nigga when he should be dressing like a bad bitch with a dark lair. pisses me off.’

eren snorted when he seen the tweet and sent it to connie. at first he was a little offended and was about to clean you right on up, but when he saw the comments agreeing??? he had to find out why your opinion mattered so much. so the the first thing he did was tap that instagram link. 550k followers. hmm. he seen that plenty of his celebrity mutuals followed you. 

                           hollowsoul

followed by thegirljt, gunna, liluzivert and others. 

when he tapped on your pinned photo he almost drooled at your beauty, your body, and the outfit you were wearing.  you indeed had that shit on to the T. connie caught himself scrolling through your feed as his anemic ass shook ice into his mouth. you sure did have a love for all black outfits. 

he taps on that message button and types in two words. ‘style me’ 

your phone lights up as you stir around the meat in the pan. you put your glass of wine down to pick up your phone. 

instagram 

new message 

you tap on the notification and it takes you to the dm. you didn’t really have a shocked reaction, but you were surprised that he even bothered to to dm you. connie was semi private. he has moments where he’s very active on social media then he becomes a ghost. 

‘sure long as your okay with me vlogging’

connie puts his cup of ice down beside his feet warning his dog, Choppo, to not touch before replying to you. 

‘i don’t mind. you free on friday?’

   ‘i am’

ight let’s meet at the outlet mall on Lafayette @ 1 then. you mind if me, my friends, and security come?

 okay sounds good and i don’t mind at all.  see you on friday x

trust me you were less boring in person. connie was lacking in first impression as he was late to you guys shopping date. 

you didn’t mind though, you were right in dior trying on sunglasses. “how these look y’all?” you ask your camera. “i don’t know they’re kinda cunt..” you say looking in the small mirror. you didn’t even notice connie and his crew walking in and walking towards you. 

“i like them.”

you look behind you, seeing connie and his friends. connie took you in while you were distracted and you were better in person. you were in an all black outfit, of course, and you looked fucking beautiful. 

“they’re cute right?” you smile looking up at the 6’1 FINE ass dominican man. one thing that  also irritated you about connie’s style is that it doesn’t emphasize his face. connie face card was something different. He had beautiful features, hazel eyes, low lids, some pretty plump lips, and he was pulling off a buzz cut like david beckham in the 2000’s. not many people can do that. 

“yeah, sorry I was late. had to drop my sister off to her dance practice.” connie says you wave him off, “oh I'm not worried about it. it gave me time to think of what stores i want to go to.” you say taking your glasses off. “hey it’s nice to meet y’all,” you said looking at the two men behind connie. eren and ony. they weren’t a group but they put out some collab albums. those albums were heat, and was always playing when you were working out or cleaning. 

“we’re starting here by the way. can’t go wrong with dior. do you have a favorite fashion brand or designer?” you ask connie as you walked over to the men’s section. 

“uhm nike?”

“nike..? you know what i’m just..i’m just going to pretend you didn’t say that.“ you say shaking your head in disappointment. ony was laughing to himself in the background cause he could hear it in your voice. 

“what’s wrong with nike?” connie smiles as you picked up a dior sweater. “well first off all nike is a sports brand i’m talking about a fashion brand like rick owens, true religion, moschino. 

“what’s a moschino?” connie scrunches his face and he was dead serious. 

“do you know who jeremy scott is? law roach?”

“are these random white people?”

you looked at connie like he was a little lost baby, pouting your glossy lips. “aw you are so cute.” you pinch his cheek. “this is my favorite part. teaching you the ins and out of fashion.” you smile pushing an outfit into his chest. “go try this on.”

connie found out that you were a bossy little thing. if he didn’t like something, “oh well too bad you’re getting it anyways.” ony and eren enjoyed seeing him get bossed around as he was usually the demanding one in the studio. you had fun telling connie stuff about fashion and how to put together a good outfit. 

connie left that outlet with a new wardrobe, friend, and crush. a very big crush that his friends noticed. the way connie blushed like some nerdy school boy every time you’d hype him up. you noticed as well and found it absolutely adorable. 

“do that lil pose that you do. period!” 

you enjoyed Connie's presence. He was a mix between laidback and hyper. like when he got comfortable around you, he got to cracking jokes. even joking you. picking up some ugly ass cowgirl boots and saying, “this looks like something you’d like.” and you’d just give him a little playful glare telling him to not play with you. 

you left Connie with a homework assignment. learn how to use pinterest and make a pinterest board. 

[ladykailitha]

The Hellfire Exotic Club Part 3

Just a head's up, I'll be moving this story's posting date to Fridays to give time to breathe instead of languishing under the wave of WIP Wednesday asks like it was last week

This week we get a taste of most of the other Sins and a tease at why Steve and Robin needed jobs ASAP. It's going to be sooo juicy guys. I can't wait for you guys to see that for real!

Part 1 Part 2

~

Moloch didn’t bring the numbers as much as the rest of Eddie and his friends did, but his Sloth liked it that way. He like the smaller crowds, the slow music, the hour long tantalizing reveal of one of the dancers who did strip all the way down.

But it was the gradual sensual removal of clothes as he got “lazier” in his dance. By the end, Moloch would draped dramatically over a settee, bumping and grinding first with his hand and then by the end of the last song, weakly thrusting against the air.

It was one of the hottest things Steve had ever seen. It really played up to the sloth aspect of it and he definitely had to rearrange himself more than once.

He knew that he would get over it eventually, seeing it every Monday for weeks, but that first time? Steve was pissed more people didn’t come out.

Even though Steve didn’t work the next day, Eddie suggested he come and watch Mammon, too. So he could see the different styles of strip that they had, to allay his fears a bit about how far the Sins were willing to go when it came to undressing for strangers.

So he showed up about an hour before show time to try out of some of the drinks and get a feel of the vibe.

Steve would say that of the dances he’d seen so far, Lust, Pride, and Sloth, Greed’s more fit the club’s original roots as a 1920s speakeasy. The place was decked out in old timey opulence. And gold. So much fucking gold.

Then the lights went out and he could hear the dancers scurrying to get into position. A single spot light lit up a singular dancer. He was broad shouldered and deep-chested, his curly hair slicked to his head. Which he raised when the music started. He was dressed smartly in a period accurate three-piece black suit with a red button down shirt.

Mammon’s movements were far more graceful than anything Steve had ever seen in any symphony or dance hall. He used his bulk to make his movements work with his body and not against it.

Then all through the night he didn’t get undressed so much as he pulled clothes off others. But without Steve realizing it, his clothes were coming off, but they were being...not replaced exactly, but the clothes he was taking off the other dancers were covering him a la the Dance of the Seven Veils.

Then in the last song, he throws the clothes in the air, leaving him in just his pants and suspenders. As the clothes flutter to the floor you realize that all the other dancers were naked, all around him, laying on the floor. The red pieces of silk landing on them like blood.

Fuck. Social commentary wrapped in the sexiest dance Steve had ever seen. He could see why the club was packed every Tuesday night. Mammon wasn’t a demon, he was a fucking god.

Eddie slid up next to him at the bar. “So what did you think?”

“I think that anytime someone tells me that big people can’t dance,” Steve said breathlessly, “that I will send them here on a Tuesday night.”

“Isn’t he amazing?” Eddie asked giddily. “Him, Jeff, and Gareth are all my mates from high school. We even had a band together before I started dancing for my Uncle Wayne. I brought them on when we first changed over to Hellfire.”

“I know you play guitar,” Steve said with a smile, “I didn’t realize the other guys did, too.”

Eddie licked his upper lip slowly. “Would you be surprised to know that so does Rosier?” he asked, leaning into Steve’s space like he was sharing a secret.

Steve thought about it for a moment and then shook his head. “Not really. He seems the type if I’m honest.”

“What about Moloch playing the drums?” Eddie asked, leaning even closer.

“Now that is surprising,” Steve said, “and at the same time makes sense now that you say it.”

Eddie threw his head back and laughed. “Yeah, I do too, now that I say it out loud like that.” He rubbed his chin. “Any guesses on what Mammon plays. Especially now that everyone else has been named and shamed.”

Steve laughed too. “What band would be complete without a kickass bassist.” Eddie blinked at him for a moment. “Unless he’s something weird like a keyboard, or violin or some shit like that.”

“Nope!” Eddie said, popping the ‘P’, “you had it right, I was just a little surprised as all. But, yes Mammon was our kickass bassist.”

“Have you guys thought about playing again?” Steve asked, leaning in. “Like here at the club. I know every night is themed, but Chrissy is already working on fairy tale themed night. So why not have a night where you guys play. Maybe even just as the music for whoever’s dancing that night or even just night of you guys rocking out.” He stopped for breath, wide-eyed at what he just said.

“That was certainly something else,” Eddie said a little stunned. He hadn’t really thought about it. Sure, he played the guitar as part of his tease, playing up into the pride aspect of it. Proud he could play and sing, proud of this club, proud of his ability to dance. But to play with his band again? A part of his dream he put back on the shelf when he was made owner? “What would we even play?”

Steve shrugged. He hadn’t thought that far. But he saw how wistful Eddie got when he talked about them being in a band. “What did you guys play before?”

“Mostly metal,” Eddie said, returning Steve’s shrug. “Some hard rock. A little grunge thrown in there for variety.”

“So perfect for the club then,” Steve replied with a smile.

Eddie blushed and shoved his hair in front of his face. “I’ll think about it.”

Steve bumped their shoulders together. They kept talking even after the club closed and the money was counted and divvied out by Rosier. Having decided to let Eddie and Steve continue talking. It wasn’t until the cleaners came in that they even realized that the club was close.

Eddie would harass his friend later about letting have the night off, but in that moment he was grateful for the respite.

He walked Steve to his car and waited for him to pull out of the parking lot before cursing up a blue streak. The guy hadn’t even been hired for a full week yet and already he was making cow eyes at him. Fuck, he was in so much trouble.

~

Steve’s impression of Lilith’s gluttony dance was that it was messy and outrageous, but somehow Chrissy made it work.

She wasn’t so much as dressed as she was covered in whip cream, with two cherries strategically placed over her nipples. She would lick and suck on her fingers covered in the stuff. Then she was dowsed in chocolate syrup as she writhed and slithered across the stage.

It was a sticky, gooey nightmare as far as Steve was concerned, but the way she stroked and touched herself as she was fed by the backup dancers. Then just as there wasn’t any way that she could possibly be fed anymore, a large bucket of water dumped it’s entire contents on Lilith as she moaned as if she had just orgasmed.

He was grateful that other Sins didn’t have to perform with her during her hour, because he didn’t think he could stand the thought of that stuff anywhere near his hair.

She did a great job, Steve wasn’t going to deny that. He could see the appeal, but the thought of getting sticky after all that? He shrugged off a shiver of disgust that ran down his back.

Once Robin and he had picked up their tips from the night, they walked out to the car.

“I take it back,” Robin huffed, yanking open the passenger side door, “We can’t work here, Steve. I thought I was going to combust when I saw the two of dancing like angels, but this was pure torture. I wanted to lick her.”

Steve cackled, sliding into the driver’s side and closing it tightly behind him. “Better you than me.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Robin said rolling her eyes as she slid into the car. When she was in and the door was close she said, “Gay!”

Steve snorted, “Lesbian.”

“Bitch.”

“Tease.”

“Slut.”

Steve put his hand over his heart and gasped. “How dare you imply I am anything but virtuous! I am the paragon of respectability! I am a tart!”

Robin cackled as Steve pulled into traffic.

“I’ve noticed you’ve looking disrespectfully, don’t think I haven’t.”

Steve shrugged but didn’t say anything.

“Oh come on there’s got to be someone revving those engines of yours,” Robin pressed. “So are we talking Lust, maybe a little Sloth...ooohhhh! I know, it’s Mammon that gets you going. You were there an awfully long time last night.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Look they’re all professionals who are very good at their jobs, and I while I might lust after all or none of them, I’m not going to fuck any of them because we need this job and I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that.”

Robin sighed. “I know. You know I was joking about not being able to work there, right?”

Steve nodded, lips pursed together.

“You’re my hero,” she said softly. “I hope you know that.”

Steve’s shoulders slumped. “Of course I do. Let’s go home. I think we both need ice cream tonight.”

“You’ve got it babe.”

~

Steve hadn’t gotten to see Wrath even though he had been hired last Thursday because they had to do all the boring employment shit first and so his first show had been Lust. So he wasn’t sure what to expect. Wrath made sense as woman. After all the saying “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” was famous for a reason.

But for some reason, Steve had still pictured a man.

But Lamia was vengeance personified. Dressed in red silks with black painted scales to look like she was part snake. Her dark piercing eyes and long black braided hair with her dusky skin made for an exotic marvel. She was curvy but still athletic, soft but clearly defined strength. Steve had learned from Choronzon that she was a mix of Indian and Egyptian and it gave her an unearthly aura to her.

She danced with a pair of curved swords and she felt dangerous. Her swords whirled and sliced through the air as the female dancers ripped and tore at her clothes until she was completely naked. But unlike Gluttony, who kept her g-string on, nothing remained but her jewelry.

Then her swords were taken and she was bathed in red ‘blood’. She continued her dance bathed in the blood of her enemies, not stopping until the last song end and she dropped to the ground.

The lights went out and the crowd roared. That was the part Steve found unsettling. The way they seemed to cheer her ‘demise’.

He asked Eddie about it afterward.

“It’s something she started actually,” Eddie explained. “She wanted Wrath to be defeated in the end.”

“Even though none of the other Sins are?”

“Yep!” Eddie said. “I think because of all the Sins Wrath’s effects are most widely seen. War. Abuse. Murder.”

Steve nodded. Greed probably killed more people, but it was in a hidden insidious way.

He wanted to see Lust again, but since it was his day off, he had things he needed to do. Especially with Robin working. So with much regret he was forced to miss it. Not like it mattered, when Robin got home that night, it was all she could talk about.

“Holy shit,” she said flopping on the sofa. “I thought your opening night was busy, but fuck, Steve. There were more people packed into that room then all the previous nights combined.”

Steve nodded. Robin was still in training and her trainer, Joe didn’t want to throw her to the wolves after just two days on the job, so her first day was on Sunday and Joe spent the whole week apologizing to her because he thought it would be slow for her. But it turned out to be the best thing as she learned faster in the hectic fury of Steve’s first night.

“He’s good,” he said, getting food out of their fridge to reheat for her.

“Look I can’t say I see the appeal,” she agreed, “but yeah. The way he makes it all about him and still make you feel like his attention is all on you.”

“Yeah,” Steve said. He brought her a bowl of mac and cheese and a fork.

Robin dived into it with gusto. “So...with the money I made tonight will get us caught up on the rest of our bills.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief. “That’s good news. I thought we’d be eating mac and cheese for the rest of our lives.”

“Well thanks to you getting a job as a lead dancer,” she said around a bite of food, “we were able to catch up in a week.”

“So when can we get our phones turned back on?” he asked, picking at the skin around his nails.

Robin swatted his hands. “Stop that! It’s bad for your nails.” He sat on his hands and stuck his tongue at her. “Anyway, it should be tomorrow. So we can swing by the shop and get them turned back on.”

“That’s good,” Steve replied. “I can finally get rid of this burner phone we got in the mean time.”

“I’m sorry,” she muttered poking at her food. “It’s all my fault.”

He dug into her bowl and tossed a bit of mac and cheese at her.

“Hey!” Robin protested, picking noodles out of her hair and tossing it back at him.

“If I can’t pick at my nails,” Steve huffed, “you can’t say that shit.”

She ducked her head and nodded. “I’m still sorry it happened.”

“That’s acceptable,” Steve said after eyeing her suspiciously for a moment. “But you didn’t do anything wrong, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

He kissed her cheek and turned on the TV. He put on her favorite baking show and settled in for a quiet night in.

~

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Tag List: ONE SLOT REMAINING

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @dreamercec @sadisticaltarts @too-much-tma-stuff

[gothicchildofthenight]

Dead-Bird

FEM DNI‼️ (She/her, She/they, etc.) - you’ll be blocked.

request: “hihi ! can you write rodrick x ftm reader thats just like , treated as one of the guys in rodricks friend group and has a sense of belonging , then heather outs the reader or something n rodrick stands up for them (???) im not sure where im going with this request u can interpret it however u want”

summary: moving to plainview for a fresh start while you’re transitioning. you meet rodrick heffley, resident emo, and become inseparable. what happens when heather hills gets jealous thats he’s turned all his attention on you?

descriptions: ftm!reader, intended for a black reader but can be read by any race, rodrick might be ooc (??), i made heather really mean (and homophobic 😭) but in reality i have no hate to her HER ACTRESS IS GORGINA, slur drop (f word), maybe the reader a girly kid sorry if that upsets anyone, cursing, throwing up (only happens once and i don’t think it’s detailed), let me know if i missed anything!!

a/n: yall, i know i said friday, but circumstances change (especially when baby siblings are sick asf) so i’m sorry. you’re allowed to yell at me in the comments!! BUT ITS FINALLY HERE‼️ pls let me know if you like it, and if you think i should change anything. i can always improve!!

word count: 8.29k (i got carried away 😭)

———————————————————————————-

For as long as you can remember, you knew you didn’t feel right with who you were. You wore the dresses, the skirts, joined the girls line when you were split off and you were ok with it, but it never felt right. You wanted to get your hands dirty, skin your knee, and you could do all of that with the girls, but you wanted to do it with the boys.

Your parents seemed to acknowledge this and your family just labeled you a tomboy. It wasn’t until your last year of middle school that you realized who you were, what you were. You were a boy, you were trans.

After going back and forth with yourself, you go to your parents with tears streaming down your face. With the way you and your parents were raised, it didn’t seem like they were going to be accepting.

“Are you done blubbering?” Your mom had asked you, which made you cry even more because you didn’t know if that could be good or bad. “We knew this could be a possibility with you just wanting to be with little boys.”

“Just because your grandparents have a skewed perspective on gender doesn’t mean we do.” Your dad joined in with a hand on your shoulder.

And with that started your transition journey. First with therapy, then doctor visits, and finally testosterone. When you started taking testosterone (end of sophomore year), you and your parents moved to give you a fresh start. With their careers, they could work anywhere as long as they could travel.

Plainview was just that, plain, but it got the job done so you can lay low. You couldn’t even point it out on a map, but it seemed like a great place to get a fresh start. Family homes, mom and pop shops, and maybe 6 schools around. No one knows you, seeing as you moved almost cross-country, so perfect.

Your first day wasn’t anything like you imagined. You thought you would be clocked immediately, especially since in the rush to move and get enrolled in school you had forgotten to get your haircut. You lucked out though, because the only reason someone (besides a teacher) came to talk to you was because of your Pearl Jam shirt.

That was the day you met Rodrick Heffley, resident “bad boy” with a band that wasn’t shit (you could say that seeing as you were in it) and a taste for rock and metal. That’s who came to talk about your shirt.

“You listen to Pearl Jam?” He asked, and you were immediately on the defense.

You knew you didn’t exactly look the part of emo metalhead, you had heard it your whole life growing up. “Listen to your normal music,” was a common one, and you won’t lie, it hurt. Especially from the popular white kids because it was just another tally mark against you.

“Yes? What about it?” You snapped.

“Woah, didn’t know I touched a nerve,” his face had reddened a little, but besides that it didn't change. “I was just gonna ask your favorite song.”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes. “I like Why Go from the Ten album.”

“Cool, cool, that’s a good one.” And then you both just stood there staring at each other. “Do you want to come over to my house after school?”

“I don’t even know you, kid,” you chuckled, “what are you, a kindergartener?”

“Well excuse me for trying to be nice.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m Rodrick.”

He held out his hand, which you hesitantly shook. “I’m (Y/N).”

“So are you coming over or what?”

And just like that he became one of the most important people in your life– along with his best friends; Drew, Ward, Chris, and Ben. Present day, you are never without Rodrick, and he, you. It doesn’t take a lot to convince the other to do something you probably shouldn’t, which leads to you guys getting in trouble a lot.

Like how one time towards the end of junior year in the middle of the night, Rodrick and you snuck out for a carnival almost 2 hours away. You had been relaxing at home, reading, when you heard little tinks coming from your window. You knew it was Rodrick throwing rocks at your window. He always did that when he’d sneak out of his house to come to yours.

“What the hell do you want?” You jokingly whisper-yelled as you opened your window.

“Come to a fair with me!” He whispered back.

“Last time I checked, the summer fair didn’t come until after school ended?”

“Because it’s not the one in Plainview, it’s the one in Huntington! Just come on!” He groans.

“First of all, I’m in pajamas!” You motioned up and down yourself. “Second of all, that’s almost two hours away!”

“So what, you’ve snuck out with me before! What makes this time any different? Come on, (Y/N), live a little!”

“Fuck it, fine!” and you closed your window to change. Your parents were long gone asleep, so you doubt they’d check on you, meaning you were in the clear.

You settled on baggy pants and a short sleeve, which is what you almost always wear, before you jumped out your window (you were on the second floor, yea, but your house wasn’t that big so it wasn’t a huge jump). Rodrick was waiting in his van, so you climbed into the passenger seat and set off.

You took a mini nap on the way, but after you woke up, you guys didn't shut up. From school to new albums, you talked about it all. You guys always were like this, (still were) even though at this point you’d only known each other a couple months. It scared you a little, how close you two had gotten in such a little period of time, mainly because you don’t want him to drop you because of who you were before.

“We’re here!” He pulled into a parking spot. You both climbed out of the van and met in front of it. “You brought your wallet, right?”

“Hanging with you? Of course not.” You deadpanned, before pulling out your wallet with a smile. “Why would I go to a fair without my wallet?”

He just rolled his eyes, slung his arm around your neck and walked to the ticket booth. Once in the fair, you guys set a plan to leave around 2:00 so you can get back in time for school.

You run around together, ride to ride, concession stand every chance you can get, and then barfing into a trash can. “I will never sneak out with you again.”

“Sure, ok,” Rodrick scoffed. “Come on, I want to ride the ferris wheel before going home!”

“Sure,” you rolled your eyes as you wiped your mouth, “just let me finish tossing my organs into this dumpster.”

“Let's go, smart ass.”

Surprisingly, there wasn’t a long line for the wheel. You’re on it in 5 minutes, and at the top in another 5.

“Told you it was worth it.” Rodrick teased as you looked out to the neon fair lights.

“Yea, yea, whatever,” you mumbled, too busy looking out at the eye widening view.

There’s a moment of silence. “Y’know, I’m glad we met each other.”

“Ew, don’t get all sentimental on me. Especially on a ferris wheel, that's just cringey.” You joke.

“I’m being serious!” He sighs. “Like I love the band, but I think me and you got closer in the span of a few months than me and them since middle school. It’s crazy.”

“Yea, sure, ok, dude,” you look back out to the lights. You couldn’t look him in the eyes because you had this warm feeling in your gut that you couldn’t place.

Rodrick doesn’t allow you to, though, as he grabs your face in one hand to make you look at him. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I want you to say it,” he stares into your eyes, seeming to search for something.

“Say what, jackass?” You feel your face catch on fire in the dark of the night.

“That I’m your best friend.” He looks so serious, and his eyes never leave yours.

“You’re my best friend,” you roll your eyes with a grin, “can you let me go now?”

“We’ll work on it.” He pats the side of your face and then faces the lights outside the wheel.

When you're both off the ferris wheel, you’re headed back home. The car ride home was silent, you in your own head and Rodrick seemed tired. You offered for him to stay over and sleep until school starts, but he declines, knowing his parents will wake him up in the morning.

You pull up to your house but just sit there for a second. “It was a bunch of fun, as always. Til we sneak out again.”

“See ya,” he smiles and lightly punches your shoulder.

“See ya, dude,” and you head to your house.

When you see him pull off, you lightly close your front door. As you turn around, your soul leaves your body.

“I don’t even want to know,” your mom holds her hand up to silence you. “Phone, now.”

You sigh, but do it.

It seemed that’s what happened with Rodrick, too, so for the rest of the school year you and Rodrick could only contact each other at school. He still snuck over, that wasn't going to stop.

You don’t regret leaving with him that night, because you had never had someone willingly be that close to you.

—

Currently, you’re all huddled up in the hot attic that is his room, but it was the only place without younger kids so you don’t complain much.

“Dude, I thought this year was gonna be it!” Rodrick complains as he lays upside down on his bed.

“Oh, it’s gonna be it, alright,” Ben rolls his eyes and throws a paper ball in Rodricks direction. “It’s going to be the year I finally strangle you if you mention Heather Hills one more time.” We all chuckle at how true it was.

Right now, he wouldn’t shut the fuck up about Heather Hills. Even though you had come in the middle of junior year, it was quick knowledge that he had a crush on her since middle school. At first it was cute, but after some unforeseen circumstances, you actually hated hearing her name. It wasn’t like you had a crush on him (It was), but the fact that she didn’t give him the time of day, and even when she did it was just to make fun of him or to have him do something.

“I second that, it’s fucking annoying,” you push him off the bed, seeing as you were on it right next to him.

“Ow, you dick!” he sits up and rubs his head.

“We’re, like, four months from graduating, if she wanted you, she would’ve said it.”

“Yea but-” Ward cuts him off.

“But nothing, bro, she don’t want your ass.”

It’s what you’ve been telling him this whole time, but you didn’t want to be too pressed about it because you didn’t want him to think you like her. You didn’t like her, you liked the one who liked her. You hadn’t realized it until you saw Heather sweetening him up one time and it hurt to watch– and not in a disgusted way.

You had no idea about your sexuality, you knew you liked boys even before you transitioned, but as you became more comfortable with yourself girls weren’t so bad either. You had been on a few dates with mostly girls (there weren’t many out guys in a small town, who knew?), but no one was Rodrick.

“I mean, I know, subconsciously,” he points to his head, “but she has this way of being in your head, no matter how mean she is.”

“Blah blah blah, bruh we don’t caaaarreee!” You roll your eyes and fall back on his bed. “She’s probably going to, like, Harvard or some shit and gonna marry rich. She doesn’t have time for loser guys like ourselves unless we can do something for her. It’s been that way since middle school, and it’ll be that way til the end of time”

“Major harsh, dude,” Drew pipes up.

“Whatever,” You get up and grab your backpack. “I’m going home, see you bozos tomorrow.”

You know why it bothers you so much, but you didn’t think you went that far. Hell, even Ward said something, but you were the one who was being “major harsh”? You roll your eyes as you stomp off to your house.

“Major harsh, my ass,” you murmur to yourself.

—

Tomorrow comes faster than you’d like. It wasn’t like you blew up on the guys, but you were pissed that you had been shut down. You kind of wanted to avoid them and go straight to class, but when you exit your house you see Rodricks van. The ride to school was pretty quiet except for the “good morning,” you all exchanged amongst yourselves.

“You were right,” Rodrick nudges you. When you give him a confused look, he goes on, “Heather is never gonna want me, and I’m taking myself off the market for other babes.”

“Oh, all those poor girls, saved,” you chuckle. Now you kind of feel bad, “but seriously, my bad if I went too far with what I was saying. I don’t have an excuse for what I said, but I am sorry.”

“Nah, I needed that good kick in the ass so I could wake up. Thanks, bro.” He playfully punches your shoulder.

“No problem, bro.”

As we pull up to school, you see Heather and her friends around their red convertible bug. You didn’t know whose it was, it was passed around more than a blunt in your group. Every morning they were there, and every morning Rodrick went to talk to them, talk to her, like clockwork.

“So are we skipping today, boys?” Rodrick suggests.

In a unison of ‘Hell Yea’s, you were the voice of reason. “Fuck no.”

They all groan, as they usually do when you’re right. We’re walking away from the van as you explain, “Y’all don’t have enough brain cells or credits to afford to skip. If yall want to blow this place, ya gotta graduate. You don’t even have to have honors.”

“Whatever, nerd,” Rodrick shoves you with a chuckle. “You can be a suck up and stay all day, but we’re outta here.”

“You can suck up on my balls, jackass,” you laugh and shove him back.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” he shoves back.

“You’d love that!” but you don’t push him, you look in front of you.

You expected to see the red car, but you saw the stairs. You had passed the car?

You look behind you, and you still see the group talking about someone cheating on someone’s boyfriend, but you notice Heather Hills looking at you.

This wasn’t the first time Rodrick had ignored Heather for you, but that was at lunch. He always talked to her in the morning. You don’t know why, but you knew that this was her last straw.

When you had first moved here, you weren’t on her radar until you had talked to him. She was just standing off to the side and you didn’t realize it then, but he was just talking to her and stopped to talk to you. You could feel her glare, but when you looked at her she gave you a sugary sweet smile. That wasn’t the last time you would see that fake smile, but after this morning you knew it would be.

—

“I don’t know what you told him, but you need to untell him.”

The voice wasn’t unfamiliar to you, but you weren’t used to it being directed at you.

“Hi, Heather, how are you on this beautiful day?” You smile at her, though it was probably closer to a grimace.

“Cut the shit, you heard me.” She growls as you put your stuff in your locker.

“Why does it have to be me saying anything to him? Maybe he actually grew some balls and a brain.”

“You’re like a lost puppy around him, of course you said something.”

“Well, Heather,” you huff as you drop your bag and face her, “he used to follow you around like a lost puppy and I got sick of it because you were using him. I don’t know why it bothered me so much, but it did, so I told him that.”

“I know why,” she leans closer to your face with a whisper. “It’s because you’re a gay little bitch who hopes he looks in your direction but he wouldn’t even spit near you. I see how you look at him, but just remember he looks at me like that.”

“Ok,” you roll your eyes. “Why do you care so much? You admitted several times that you don’t like him.”

“He needs to like me, not the other way around. It gives other guys the idea that they can be with me and I can get gifts out of it. So if you don’t fix this, I can get so much dirt on you it’d make your head spin.”

“I think the bleach fumes are finally getting to your brain,” you scoff, trying not to seem nervous. You didn’t think that she could get to your secret, but that bitch has power in high places. But you had come so far without being outed, so you didn’t think it’d happen this close to your escape. “I don’t know what to tell you. I’m not gonna do that because you’re a bitch who doesn’t deserve any attention.”

She slams your locker in your face, “You’ll regret that.” And as she walks away you roll your eyes and mumble a “bitch”.

She doesn’t even want him, but I can’t have him? Whatever, bitch.

—

You decided to keep your little interaction from Rodrick and the gang because you knew it’d open up a) what she could find on you and b) did Heather actually like Rodrick and she’s lying? You just let them lead the conversation as you try to rationalize with yourself.

How would she find out your trans? You’ve been stealth for a year and your school medical records are locked up tight. She can’t out anything but you being gay and even that was a little chest tightening. At least you’ll still be a man, even if it was a gay one. Being outed as trans could shatter people’s perception of you and you’ll be that weird “girl” again.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” Rodrick asks you and you realize you’re the only two in the van now.

“Nothing, just exhausted. I need to be asleep right now,” you pretend to rub your eyes.

“Whatever you say, dude,” he sighs, but puts his hand on your shoulder and looks you in the eyes. “I’m here whenever you wanna talk, you seem to have a lot on your mind.”

It makes you freeze. It’s not like he isn’t always like this, he’s your best friend, but it doesn’t help after your conversation with Heather. He does this with every guy in the group, he may put on a front of being a dick to his brother, Greg, but he really cares for his friends. You have to convince yourself that this was just that, nothing more.

“Eyes on the road, weirdo,” you shrug his arm off with a nervous laugh. “I told you I was fine, I’m just tired.”

“Ok, dude,” he rolls his eyes.

Before you know it, he drops the rest of the guys off at their houses. You’re usually the last one to get dropped off since more often than not you’re the first one to be picked up. But when Rodrick passes your house, you have more than a few questions.

“Where the hell are you taking me?” You sigh.

“Obviously you won’t tell me what’s actually wrong, so we’re going to hang out til that frown turns upside down!” He smiles as he passes his house, too.

“How did I become friends with such a cornball? Aren’t you supposed to be the resident bad boy, go back to that.”

“You know you love me,” he smirks.

More than you know, that’s the reason I’m in this mess! You almost say, but stick with, “Sure, whatever you say.”

You know exactly what he’s going to do, you guys do it every time one of y’all are going through it. Head to the gas station to get slushies and snacks, then go out to your favorite clearing in the woods. He even does it with Greg sometimes, even though he likes to act like he hates his younger brothers.

“Isn’t the point of a slushy to mix all of the flavors together?” Rodrick rolls his eyes.

“We have this conversation every time we come here, I get two flavors that compliment each other! All of those flavors confuse your mouth and you lose taste buds.”

“You lie just like my mother, which means you lie like shit.” And for that you slap his shoulder. “OW!”

“Don’t talk about Susan like that!” You say, jokingly offended. You go to hit him again, but he grabs your hand.

“You’re a fucking nut case.”

“OMG!” You hear an all too familiar voice excitedly yelp. “I thought I heard your voice!”

“Oh, hey Heather.” Rodick turns to talk to her, forgetting to let go of your hand. “What are you doing in here?”

“My friends wanted to stop in here to get some junk.” She waves her hand behind her and rolls her eyes. “I obviously don’t eat stuff like that, I mean, look at me.” Rodrick doesn’t even glance down when she motions at herself.

“Good for you, me and (Y/N) are actually in here for some snacks, too.”

She finally looks at you, and then at you and Rodricks combined hands. You squirm under her stare and take your hand out of Rodricks. He looks at you in seeming confusion, but doesn’t say anything.

“I didn’t see you there, hey (Y/N)!” She has a smile on her face, but you can see in her eyes the amount of hatred she has for you.

“Hey, Heather…” You almost whisper, and then turn to seem busy with your slushy.

“Well, we should get out of here, bye Heather.”

“Oh, yeah, I think my friends went back to the car, so I should head out, too.” She turns to leave, but looks back over her shoulder and waves seductively. “Bye, Rodrick!”

When you hear the front door bell ring, you finally release the breath you had been holding in. “Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself.

“What was that?” Rodrick turns to you with a smile and points behind him. “She’s never willingly came up to me unless she needs something. And she just wanted…conversation?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” You paint on a smirk even though your heart is racing. She had seen you with Rodrick, holding hands (completely his fault!), and he couldn’t be any less interested in her! You just know your fate is sealed.

“Well, let’s get this shit paid for and go.” He grabs up your food and you grab the slushies.

With everything paid for, you guys hop back into the van and head into the trail a few blocks down. It wasn’t anything official, but you hadn’t gotten in trouble for being out here, so yall just kept going.

You park the van and head into the back, opening the doors for some fresh air.

“So are you ready to tell me what’s up?” Rodrick asks after a few sips of his slushy abomination.

“I told you that I’m just exhausted.” You keep up your front.

“And I told you that you lie like my mom,” he sighs. “So you might as well just spill it.”

“It’s just something that me and my family have to deal with, you don’t have to worry about it!” You know if you bring your family into it, he’ll stop pushing it because he knows your parents don’t play.

“Ok, ok, I’ll let it go.” He raises his hand in defense.

You don’t respond, and you guys are submerged into silence once again. You exchange looks when you don’t think the other is looking, but besides that you take in the forest around you.

Heather could never experience these moments with Rodrick and understand how precious it is. Rodrick has always been the weird “bad boy” (people literally only say this because of his clothes and that makes you roll your eyes) who some of the girls wanted but if it got out they did like him, they’d be made fun of. You see how some of the girls look at him when he isn’t looking, and it hurts your heart. You know they have more of a chance than you ever would.

But with you, he was never like this. He was the goofy, caring friend who’d drop everything if you said the word. Heather only sees him as an object that gives her affection, but you see him as he truly is; a guy who loves and just wants it back. He just wants to be seen.

“Y’know you’re my best friend, right?” You blurt before you can think about it.

“Only took you a year to be genuine about it,” he nudges your shoulder.

“What?”

“The ferris wheel.” He states like you’re just supposed to know. And you do.

“You still remember that?” You gape.

“Anyway, yes I am your best friend, just like how you’re mine.” He grins at you, and then he drops it, “you’re not planning anything are you?”

“Oh my god, a guy can’t express his appreciation for his best friend?” You throw your hands up.

“I’m watching you,” he squints his eyes and points at you.

You get a text from your mom wondering where you are, and that’s the end of your little outing with Rodrick.

When he drops you home, Heather is the furthest thing from your mind, even though you know holding Rodricks hand (even though it wasn’t even purposely!) would be a slight against you.

—

Over the next two weeks, Heather's empty threat went to the back burner of your mind. If she wanted to out you, it would’ve happened by now. I’m safe, you sighed in relief.

Rodrick continued not to go up to her in the morning, but if she talked to him he definitely talked back. It seemed to calm her attitude toward you now, but it still was a hot seat around her. Like now, she’s passing around flyers for her party this weekend and intentionally passed by you.

“Rodrick, you’re definitely coming to my party this weekend, right?” She bats her eyelashes. “I need your band Soiled Diper to play!”

“It’s Löded Diper,” you correct and she glares at you, “and when have you ever wanted us to play anywhere near you?”

“Us?” She scoffs at you. “I just want the main band, not some wannabe.”

“Woah,” Rodrick stops her. “(Y/N) is an actual part of the band, so no him, no band.”

“Him? If that’s what you wanna say, sure.” And to the untrained ear it could just be her upset that he isn’t going along to exclude you, but you know what she means. As you perk up and look in her eyes, she’s already looking at you with a knowing smirk.

She knows. FUCK how does she know?

“I’m fine with not going, Rod,” you try to sway him. This cannot be fucking happening.

“No, it’s either all of us or none of us.”

Of course now he wants to be a fucking hero right now. He doesn’t get that this is social suicide FOR ME! Social homicide? Not important right now.

“Ok,” she has that sugary sweet fake smile. “Don’t come, then. Remember what I said.”

That last part was for you, you know it, and your blood runs cold. Fuck.

The rest of the day you’re on the edge of your seat, thinking what she might do. How the fuck did she even find out? You weren’t on social media much pre-transition, so barely any photos of you before exist. And like you said, your medical records were locked up tight.

Whatever, you try to convince yourself. She won’t do anything! She would’ve already.

You make it home with no one running around talking about your biggest secret, so your anxiety has allowed you to breathe again.

You decide to finally talk to your mom about this because who else will understand?

“You’re right to be afraid, but you’re also right about her doing it when she finally found something on you.” Your mom rubs your hair as you lay in her lap.

“It’s like I can’t get into her mind and I seriously want to. Like what is she planning?” Your thoughts literally won’t shut up. You haven’t had to worry about stuff like this for close to 2 years, and now its like your whole world is about to collapse

“For her sake, I hope nothing because I’m not above beating a little girl's ass!” And you know she’s being for real. Your mom doesn’t play around.

“Mom,” you roll your eyes.

“So, she thinks you like Rodrick…What’s up with that?”

“You know the answer if you’re asking,” you sigh.

“Do you want any advice on that? I say you should go for it.” Your mom shrugs.

“Absolutely not, because if this does come out I don’t want him weirded out by me being trans and gay.” You don’t even know if you are gay gay, but you know it’d make you that if you ask him out.

“I think you’re safe, but if something does blow, I’m in your corner.” She holds up her fist playfully to show it.

“Thank you, Mom.” You finally felt at peace with the whole thing. You trust your mom and feel like it will all blow over.

If only you knew.

The next morning, you walk with a pep in your step. You decide to walk to school, texting Rodrick you didn’t need a ride. It took a little longer to walk than drive, so you knew they’d beat you there.

When you finally showed up, people were staring at you, but it didn’t bother you much. People looked at you and the gang weirdly all the time, it just happened. It was when you finally made your way inside that all hell broke loose.

Random whispers were rampant through the hall, but when you walked by it would stop. Whatever, they were probably just talking about what you were wearing like always. You shrugged and went to find the guys.

You were right in front of them in the cafeteria and about to speak when that sugary voice stopped you, “Hey, [Redacted]!” It exclaimed.

You could’ve thrown up right then and there. You whip around to face Heather, “What the hell did you just call me?”

“Should I tell her or are you guys going to be good friends?”

“Guys, what is she talking about?” You turn to them and the look on their faces say it all.

They Know. Everyone knows.

Ben turns his phone around and you have to will yourself to not spill your breakfast out onto the concrete. It’s a screenshot from one of your parents' private Facebooks from two or three years ago with a title that stated your deadname.

The “girl” in the picture was going to homecoming, and it was obvious that it was you. Your face was softer, caked with makeup, and your hair was longer. The caption had your name and said that you were indeed going to homecoming.

“This picture was private, how the fuck?” You were whispering to yourself. You’re frozen in place, you can’t look anywhere but Ben’s phone.

“How could you hide this from your friends?” Heather fake gasps. “Pretending to be a boy? Going into the boys bathroom and locker room? What a freak!” and her whole group laughs. When you didn’t respond, she kept going, “Like, can you guys believe it? She’s pretending to be a boy to get close to you, and I even heard she had a little crush on one of you!”

That made you bark out a sob. Holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit holy-

“It’s crazy! Right, Rodrick?” and that snaps you out of it.

You glance at him, and he looks angry. Probably at you for lying to him. You darted away, looking for an exit because all you can think about is going home. You hear your name called after you, but you don’t care.

—

“What the hell are you doing home? Classes literally just started.” Your mom asks as she’s cuddled up with your dad. You don’t answer her, and just run up to your room, sobbing.

“Woah, woah woah, hey!” They get up to go after you.

When you get to your room, you don’t close your door knowing they’re after you. You shut your phone down and just throw yourself onto your bed, trying to stop your tears.

“Son, what’s wrong? What happened at school?” My dad knocks on the open door.

“Heather Hills,” you say through your pillow. Even if your dad didn’t get it, your mom did.

“She didn’t…”

“She did though, Mom!” You cry out, turning to face them. “She outed me to the whole school! She somehow found one of your Facebooks, got into it and found an old picture of me going to homecoming, and she shared it with the whole school!”

“Are you serious?” Your dad balls up his fist.

“Not only that, but she said that I was pretending to be a guy! Said I was doing it to get close to Rodrick, basically told him I liked him, and made me seem like this big ass weirdo!”

“We need to do something about this,” your mom says, and she sounds pissed. “This has to be some sort of harassment!”

“Your mother is right, we need to contact the school-”

“NO, please,” you start. “What’s done is done, I don’t want this bigger than it is!”

“(Y/N)!-”

“Mom, please listen to me!” You’re exasperated at this point. “Heather has the whole school behind her. Her parents are RICH, so if we try to do anything, it’ll just make everything worse!”

“I don’t give a fuck about her parents! She hurt my baby and she needs to be held accountable!”

“I don’t want to be in the middle of any more drama!” You groan. “I just want to figure this out quietly and on my own. I don’t want to talk to anyone about it and I just want to be left alone!”

“Ok, ok,” your dad sighs and puts a hand on your head. “If that’s what you want, we won’t push it,” he turns to your mom, “won’t we?”

“Yea, I guess,” she rolls her eyes, but gives a weak smile. “But at any point you need any help or she does anything else, we’re in your corner.”

“Thank you for understanding.”

“Get some rest, son,” your dad pats your shoulder. “You look like you need it.”

“I’ll try.”

But you knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep. You avoid your phone because you didn’t want to be contacted by anyone, but especially Rodrick. You didn’t want to know his disgust with you, didn’t want to know how much he thought that Heather was right.

Without the distraction of your phone, your room and the house was too quiet. You could hear your parents downstairs, trying not to be angry about your situation and watching television. Your mind keeps replaying you looking at Ben’s phone, ears ringing in anger and worry. You’re so horrified, afraid you’ve lost all of your friends. You were supposed to graduate without anyone finding out. What was the point of a fresh start if you were just gonna have to deal with all that you wanted to avoid at your old home?

You hear someone knock on your front door, and even being that far away from it you heard Rodricks voice. This time you can’t stop your stomach from lurching and you run to the bathroom.

As you flush the toilet, you hear the door close and footsteps up the stairs. That makes you pray on the bathroom floor to anything that could hear you to not make you talk to him yet.

“Hey, baby, you alright?” Your mom’s voice fills you with relief and seems to calm your stomach.

“No,” you say truthfully. You didn’t feel like lying right now, “I feel like everything is over for me.”

“You heard him, didn’t you?”

“Not what he said, but I heard his voice,” you admit.

“Then I think you should answer your phone.” And with that, she leads you back to your room, kisses your forehead, and goes back downstairs.

—

You don’t turn your phone back on until the next day. You still felt sick, and no matter how much you tried to eat you just couldn’t. You stayed home from school and your parents didn’t argue, but they still had to go out for work. Not a full trip, but they had to go to the next town over.

You had less messages than you thought you would, but it’s still crazy. Drew, Ward, Chris, Ben, and even Bill messaged you, but you didn’t care about all of them because one name caught your eye. Rodrick.

It was four messages; are you home??, answer me!, i’m coming over. were the first three, but the last message was a video.

It starts staring at the floor, and then it’s pointed to a group of people. You can make out you, the gang, and Heather behind you. You take off running, but the recording doesn’t stop there.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Rodrick stands up and gets in Heather's face.

“What?” she laughs in disbelief.

“You heard what I said!”

“Are you seriously defending her over me? I thought you liked me?!” You can hear the fakeness in her voice.

“That was before you decided to spread lies about my friend! He has done nothing to you!” the emphasis on the “he” makes your eyes widen. “You’re gonna stop talking shit about my best friend to my face! You’re such a fake bitch! I don’t know how I ever liked you…”

“Don’t tell me you’re seriously picking her over me? You must be more homo than her to like that wannabe boy.”

“Are you fucking serious?” The rest of the guys pipe up and start to surround Heather.

“He is a guy, and if you think anything other than it, you must be stupider than I thought,” Ben steps up.

“And so what if I like him? Just know I don’t like you, not anymore.” Rodrick is the angriest you’ve ever seen him, it’s kind of hot scary.

“Whatever, you’re all just losers. Lets go,” she turns and walks off with her crew.

That’s where the video ends.

You couldn’t stop rewatching it in amazement. He had stood up to Heather Hills for you without hesitation. Had said he liked you to Heather Hills. To basically the entire school, if this video has already gone around.

You debate whether or not you wanted to talk to him, but your need for your best friend wins over your need to hide. You slip on your shoes and head out.

You live a little over 5 minutes away from Rodrick even though he drives you guys everywhere. You know you could’ve told him to come over to your house, but it’s nice to finally get some fresh air. Plus, his mom was always nice to see when you went over his house.

When you get there, you see his van parked in the driveway near the garage. You have to hype yourself up to knock on the front door, but once you do it’s like a wave of nausea comes crashing over you.

I can’t do this, oh my god. What have I-

Before you can finish your thoughts, the door opens. You half expect it to be Rodrick, but it’s just Greg.

“Hey, kid.” You do a little wave as if you haven’t met him before. Whenever you come over, you tend to see Greg and Rowley, too. Most of the time they’re just in the living room, but they sometimes come up to the attic just to get chewed out by Rodrick, especially when it’s just you two up there.

“Hey, (Y/N),” he smiles, “where’ve you been?”

“Yknow.” You wring your hands. “Around.”

You can barely get words out. Does Greg know? Did Rodrick tell his family about what his best friend is?

“Rodrick should be upstairs in his room.” Greg moves out of the way so you can step into the house. “He’s been moping up there since yesterday, I don’t even think he’s left it today.”

“He didn’t go to school?” It’s not surprising, he’s always skipping, but you know it’s because of what went down yesterday.

“Nope,” Greg shakes his head. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you guys, because he only acts like this when he can’t see you, but I think you guys will work it out. It’s like me and Rowley, just less romantical.”

“W-what-” you sputter out. “I don’t-”

“Sure, whatever you want to tell yourself.” Greg cuts you off with an eye roll. “Like I said, he’s upstairs.”

“Thanks, kid.” Your face is on fire.

And with that, you mount the stairs to the attic. Is your crush on Rodrick really that obvious that even his family can see it? And with the way Greg was talking it seems to be reciprocated. You heard it come out of Rodrick’s own mouth, but what if he just said that so Heather could leave you alone?

You’re in front of his door before you can finish your thoughts. You knock, ready to get this over with.

“Mom, I told you I’ll be ok, just leave me alone!” You hear him call out.

“Not your mom, last time I checked.” You say, a soft smile grows on your face from hearing his voice.

You hear him leap up off of his bed and trip over something, but it doesn’t seem to phase him as he runs to open the door.

“(Y/N),” he breathes out.

“Hey,” you can barely look him in the face. “Can I come in?”

“Yea, yea, come in!” He pulls you through the door.

Once in his room, it’s like you’ve never set foot in it. You don’t know what to do, where to sit. It all feels new to you for some reason.

“Dude, just sit down somewhere.” Rodrick laughs at your newfound confusion.

You decide to sit on his bed, which you do every time you come over. You and Rodrick always sit on opposite ends of the bed so you can look at each other, which this time is no different.

You just sit there, staring at each other. You decide to break the ice. “It’s true, all of it. I don’t know how Heather got that picture, but I was a girl for most of my life up until now. Please, don’t hate me.”

“I’m not going to lie, it made me mad that I had to find out through Heather Hills,” he sighs, “but then again it’s none of my business. You were doing it to protect yourself, so I get it and I don’t have a right to be mad. I could never hate you over something like that though.”

You just sit there with your mouth open. You knew subconsciously that he couldn’t have hated you, but you had grown up hearing all the hatred people had for people like you. You had no choice to be on the defense when coming over here, no matter what you heard.

“I just-” You start. “I just, I know you’re my best friend, and I should’ve trusted you with this, but I couldn’t. I’ve never had anyone but my parents know. Their families don’t even know, that’s the whole reason we moved here.”

“Would you have ever told me?” He asks, kind of quiet.

“Maybe.” You shrug honestly. “I was too worried about trying to survive high school without a slip up to think that far ahead.”

“Oh,” is all he answers.

It’s another drowning silence. You’ve never had an awkward silence in your entire friendship, this is freaking you out.

“Did you watch the video I sent you?” Rodrick speaks up.

“Yea, it was the first thing I saw when I turned my phone back on.” Another beat of silence. “It was the only reason I came over here to talk to you.”

“Did you watch the whole thing?”

“Only a hundred times,” you smile evilly. “I love watching that barbie wannabe get put in her place.”

“Yea, that was great to do,” his voice lowers, “but that’s not what I was talking about.”

“I know.” You whisper and look him in the eyes.

You just sit there staring at each other, and then Rodrick looks down at your lips. It was so quick you could’ve missed it if you blinked, but you saw it. Just go for it.

“Are you going to kiss me, or just think about it?” You try to sound confident, but it ends up a quiet squeak.

His eyes widen, but he begins to inch over to you until you’re pressed up against each other. “Is this okay?” His whisper tickles your lips.

You just nod, eyes never leaving his. You don’t know who leans in first, but your lips are together in a flash. Your grip on his shirt is tight, as if when you let go it’ll all disappear. Your mouths almost move in unison, like you’re trying to devour the other. You can barely breath, feeling like this isn’t real. You dreamed about this moment for so long and now that it’s here it’s like you’re ascending.

You are the one who pulls away first, needing to breathe. Rodrick doesn’t seem like he wants to stop, kissing down your jaw to your neck. While you're breathing softly, you hear a knock at his door. That doesn’t stop Rodrick though.

“Rodrick,” you breath out as a warning.

“Hm,” he hums indifferently. Before you both know it, his door opens.

“Rodrick, you need to leave this- OH MY GOD!” His mother screams out.

“MOM!” Rodrick jumps away from you in fear and shock.

You’re all just stuck looking at both of them staring at each other before you break the silence.

“Hey, Ms. Susan…”

After that you are put through a lecture with his mom and dad. You guys can’t be upstairs alone without Greg being a buffer, door open at all times even with the other guys there. They, of course, texted your parents about what they found so that's gonna be fun to go home to. But you felt like none of that mattered because you got what you wanted. You didn’t lose your friends, and you even gained a boyfriend.

He offers to drive you home, which you take because you want to be close to him for a little longer. So you wave goodbye to his parents and get into the van.

You hold hands on the way to your house.

—

“We’re glad you decided to come back to school,” Rodrick squeezes your hand. “It’s been so boring.”

“First of all, I was gone one day,” you roll your eyes in fake annoyance. “And second of all, you literally didn’t even go yesterday!”

“But it’s always boring whenever I don’t get to see you, baby.” He wiggles his shoulders against yours.

All the guys groan in fake disgust. “Yall are so corny, break up already.” Ben gags.

“I didn’t even say anything!” You throw your hands up, taking one of Rodricks hands with you.

“Cringe by association.” And you roll your eyes in true annoyance.

“Are you sure you’re ready to go back?” Rodrick interrupts. “We could just go back to your house and hang out for the day.”

“I’m sure you’d love that,” you shove his arm, “but if I keep skipping, it’ll be like she won. Plus I’m not losing my straight A streak because of that bimbo.”

“Fine,” he huffs. “I can’t wait for the last day, school is so boring.”

“I thought without me it was boring?” You raise an eyebrow.

“You know what I mean.” He kisses your cheek.

“Yuck,” one of the guys laughs out behind your back.

“Shut the fuck up so we can get this day over with.” You flip them off.

You’re, of course, joking because you know you couldn’t have gone through this without them. After your talk with Rodrick, you all had a group hangout and talked through all of this. They let you know the whole time that they were 100% on your side. They were your boys and you were theirs.

Maybe the rest of the year won't be hell. You got the guy, smited the girl, and even if you were outed, you had all the friends you needed with you already. You were going to be fine.

[xoxxbilliexoxx]

Fight me or Fuck me

WLW Enemies to Lovers Smut

Your roommate brings out such an intense anger in you, hating every single thing she does or says. It isn’t until she walks in on you masterbating that things change rapidly. ✂️✂️

You had always hated her. Every single thing that she did drove you fucking crazy. Layla was just one of the five girls that lived in your college house. You didn’t know her well when she moved in- she was just a friend of one of your other roommates who needed a place to live and your house happened to have an empty bedroom. At first you didn’t mind her, you guys didn’t really talk, just seeing each other in the mornings before class and at the end of the day when she wasn’t staying at her girlfriends house. It wasn’t until they broke up that you had to start seeing her all the time, and that's when you realized just how much she pissed you off. There wasn’t even a specific reason you didn’t like her, it just felt like everything she said or did made you want to rip your hair out, or better yet her hair out.

Tonight was no different, you and some of the girls were in the kitchen listening to your favorite music and goofing off. On the freshly cleaned island sat 4 glasses of wine, a celebration of another week of school being finished. You had all decided you would have a chill Friday night before a big party on saturday. When the front door opened and you saw Layla's long dark hair as she shut the door behind her, you immediately felt annoyed. Just her presence alone kills your vibe. The other girls had no problem with her at all, they all called out her name as she came into the kitchen. “Woah Layla, who you lookin so hot for tonight” your roommate called out, eyeing her up and down and whistling. Layla giggled and did a spin, showing off her whole outfit. You couldn’t help but agree, her outfit complemented her body perfectly. Her tight black long sleeve shirt hugged her curves perfectly, and her low waisted super baggy jeans sat on her waist in just the right spot. The massive holes in her jeans showed off the fishnets she had underneath and though her pants were almost too long for her, you could see her doc martins just enough. The fact that she had such good style almost pissed you off more. Everyone around her was always complimenting her appearance and the way she accepted them was always so cocky. “No one but myself bitch” Layla said, finally answering your roommates question and finishing it off with a wink.

You picked up your wine glass and took a big swig, needing something to take the edge off of the bitterness she brought out of you. “Oh shit we drinking wine tonight?” Layla loudly questioned, before turning to the cabinet directly behind you to grab a glass for herself. As she walked towards you, you saw a close up of her makeup. Her eyeliner so neatly wrapped around the entirety of her eyes, boldly making the green of her irises pop. Her mascara showed off just how long her eyelashes were and her lipstick was the perfect light pink to even out the darkness of the rest of her outfit. It’s so frustrating how beautiful she is, god you wished she wasn’t. Her pin straight long black hair hit you in the face as she turned back around and oh you so badly wanted to push her away but you chose to cuss her out in your head instead. Being such a non confrontational person only made your hatred for her bottle up, sometimes feeling like it was going to explode.

It was clear Layla didn’t like you either. One day when she was facetiming her friends you could hear her loudly as she said she liked ‘most of her roommates’. When all of you were in a room together, she would never directly speak to you, pretty much avoiding eye contact as well. You had a few friendly conversations here and there, mostly talking shit about your least favorite music theory professor, but even then it was obvious you both were forcing it. But nothing pissed you off more than when you were playing your acoustic guitar and Layla turned on her amp and began practicing her electric guitar, making it literally impossible for you to continue. She does it every single damn time.

When she noticed her hair had flown into your face, Layla didn’t say sorry, she just threw you a smirk and walked away. She pulled the bottle of wine out of the fridge and without asking anyone if they’d like anymore, she poured the rest of it in her glass and sat down. That was the last straw for the evening; You couldn’t be around her any longer. You walked to the pantry and grabbed the new wine bottle you had bought the day before, and began to head to your room, “I’m calling it a night early guys sorryyyyyy. I need my me time before the fun ass night we are about to have tomorrow” you announce with a sweet smile before continuing to your room. “Me time as in a bottle of wine and your rose toy?” your best friend yells back to you laughing. You lift the wine glass above your head as you shout back at her, “you know it babyyyy”

About two hours had passed in your room and you had accidentally finished the entire bottle of wine. You heard things quieting down in the kitchen and knew that everyone was probably heading to their own rooms for the night. Your room was lit up by your fairy lights and salt lamp, creating a beautiful orangy pink hue. You had your overhead fan on, not only cooling off the air, but also creating a soft hum to play in the background. A ‘Me time’ night is your favorite type of night, you strip down to your favorite matching underwear and bralette set, put on your favorite lotion, one that smells like the perfect mix of masculine and feminine, like flowers and musk. You lay in your bed, usually with a brand new set of sheets and freshly shaved legs, and read your favorite poetry books. Eventually, it almost always results in a sexy night with yourself, with one…. or two…. or three strong orgasms.

Tonight was no different, except for the entire bottle of wine adding to the mix of it all. You had just put on fresh sheets, your favorite ones, and you decided to spray them with some of the cologne you have worn for years, the one that makes all you friends “horny” (their words not yours) every time they hug you. As you laid down your cheeks were warm and buzzy from all the wine. You smiled to yourself, euphoric from how good the night turned out to be. You opened Tumblr to find your favorite smut’s, and began to read. As it began to heat up, so did you. Your hand finally crept its way under your panties, feeling the wetness already growing.

You were so happy, so warm, so drunk on joy. The thick smells of your lotion and cologne, the silkiness of the fresh sheets against your smooth legs, your fingers pressed against your clit, circling tightly, soaking in the pleasure, it all only added to your euphoria. Your eyes had closed, no longer reading the smut but using your mind instead. Memories of previous nights, of previous hookups helping to fuel your self love. One of your hands was on your boob, grabbing and squeezing and pinching your hard nipple, while the other was dancing in between your thighs. The top sheet had fallen down right above your waist and the thicker blankets were now in a pile by your feet. You were creeping closer and closer to the edge, so in love with the way you were making yourself feel. Sweet moans were quietly spilling from your lips, moans that caught tightly in your throat when your door opened abruptly. You tried to stop fast enough, tried to grab at the sheet to cover your body, but it was too late.

Layla was standing in the doorway, her face bright red, eyes wide, just as frozen as you were. “I- I” she stuttered, then stopped again, seemingly unsure of what to say. “Layla what the hell are you doing coming into my room at fucking 11pm?! Jesus can a girl get some fucking privacy?” you spit out at her, trying to cover up the embarrassment you felt. Embarrassment mixed with something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. “I’m so sorry, I came in to ask if you had an extra guitar pick, I can’t find any of mine. I didn’t mean to interrupt your moment” she giggled just a bit at the end, making your cheeks fill with blood, maybe from anger, maybe from embarrassment, maybe from lust. You couldn’t tell, your emotions were all jumbled in your mind. Layla was still staring at you, looking back between your eyes and your chest. When you looked down to see what she was so eager to see, you noticed your boob was still out. “Fuck” you grabbed your bralette, placing it back where it was supposed to be as quickly as you could. “Why are you still here?” you ask, your voice was tight and angry. “Well…. Do you have one or not?” she responded nonchalantly. “Are you joking? You are still worried about getting a damn guitar pick after walking in on me clearly wanting to be alone” she just stared at you, as if she was waiting for you to give her what she needed.

You just wanted her gone, still feeling incredibly horny and craving your release, so you got out of bed and walked over to the cup on your desk filled with your picks. You didn’t even care that you were just in your underwear, I mean she already saw the worst of it, you couldn’t be modest now. As you turned to walk towards her you caught her staring directly at your ass, and when she saw you watching her, she didn’t try to hide it, continuing to eye your exposed body with a small smirk on her face. God you hated her, why was she looking so smug at you, why was always ruining all your good moments. When you handed her the pick your hands touched briefly, causing an unexpected electric tinge to run through your body and the feeling of her skin on yours. Fuck. Was the feeling embarrassment or was it attraction? Was it hatred and anger or attraction? Your mind felt overwhelmed by all the things you felt and for some reason she was still standing there.

“Alright, there ya go, you got what you needed, now can you please leave” you slightly barked at her, even more annoyed knowing that she had your mind playing emotional twister. She looked you up and down again with a small smirk growing onto her face. Her eyes met yours and she had a look you had never seen from her before. “I could leave, yea…” she started, “Or I could help ya out a little” you were stunned at her words, fully unsure of what to do or say. “Excuse me?” you finally manage to get out. “I mean I did interrupt you and ruin your fun, you looked like you were really enjoying yourself. It’s only right that I help you out now” you stood there, just staring at her, trying hard to process all that was happening, all that you were feeling. The wine wasn’t helping the situation, only allowing you to focus on how hard your clit was still throbbing, and how badly you still needed a release. Before you could stop it, words were pouring from your lips. “You did stop me right as it was getting good” your voice was thick with lust as you said it. “It's only fair I help you now, I don’t need another reason for you to hate me” You laughed at her words, not denying any of it anymore. As you looked up at her you bit your lower lip, unable to hide how much you suddenly wanted her. That was all the confirmation she needed to grab you by the waist and kiss you hard.

She pulled away long enough to shut the door behind her as she guided you back to your bed. As your lips attached again, they were fueled by intense amounts of anger, anger that had been building for months. Anger that you now were realizing had been disguising a deep attraction you had for her. As she pushed you on the bed and crawled on top of you she took a deep inhale, taking in the scent that your bed was drenched in, your scent. “Fuck that smell has been driving me crazy ever sense I met you. You smell so fucking good its sick” her words came out with so much heat. A heat that was coated in both anger and lust. Your bodies moved against each other so forcefully, like you didn’t know if you wanted to fight or fuck. Her hands squeezed your hips so tightly it stung, only making you want her more. The way she was dominating you was making you core throb, hungry for her touch, drunk off her power. Your lips continued tangling together but it grew sloppier and sloppier every second. When she finally pulled away you were gasping for air. “You’re so fucking hot Layla, god it makes me sick” you still felt the anger in you, still looking at her with hatred, but it was now mixed with desire, which made it all so much stronger. She reached down, latching her lips on your collarbone as you groaned and threw your hands into her hair. “I need your body y/n, fuck let me touch you” she looked down at you, her eyes rapidly darting across every part of your body. You sat up to take off your bralette as she reached for the waistband of your underwear pulling it off. As soon as she had you naked she was working hard to get her own clothes off, tugging and ripping so fast she was almost getting tangled in it.

When she was finally naked your lips met back together harshly, slamming into each other as if they were strong magnets, not able to resist the force. Your hands were all over her, moving so quickly, not sure where you wanted to touch most. Her hands did the same, finally landing on your boobs, pulling them just as you were earlier. As she pinched down on your nipples you moaned into her mouth. It came out so quickly you had no way of stopping it, or quieting it. The way you craved her was so intense it scared you. Your hands reached underneath her body, which still hovered over you, and snaked their way between her thighs. She inhaled deeply as she spread her legs slightly, inviting you in closer to her. Her small movement gave you full access to her, immediately reaching up feeling how wet this had made her- you had made her. She groaned at your touch but quickly reached under her and grabbed your hands, pinning them down harshly beside your head. You yelped at the dominance, your eyes filled with lust and hunger. Every part of you was ready to submit to her fully, ready to let her do whatever she wanted to you.

When she began to slide off of you you whined slightly, unsure of what was to come. She spread your legs and let her spit drip down, hitting your clit perfectly causing your hips to jolt slightly. You watched as she sat back up moving quickly, but not where you expected for her to go. She moved her legs so they were intertwined with hers, and lowered herself slowly until your pussy met hers. You both immediately groaned out at the feeling of your lips sliding together. Her arousal was mixing with yours and it made you feel so hot it almost hurt. When she quickly began moving her hips back and forth you closed your eyes, back arching off the bed immediately. She grabbed your thigh hard as she thrusted her wet cunt onto yours, your clits rubbing together so perfectly you felt like you could cum on the spot. “Oh god Layla yes” you whispered passionately, trying your best to stay quiet, to hide what you and the roommate you were supposed to hate, were doing. “Yes baby yes” she whined back, thrusting faster as she felt your hips pushing up, adding pressure to the contact of your clits. Her head was thrown back, eyes closed, mouth hanging open as her clit hit yours over and over again. You felt her juices dripping into you, the sensation so intense you wanted to scream.

“God you’re so fucking hot y/n” Layla said, out of breath, her movements not slowing down at all. The intensity of your energy was only growing as she fucked you. The anger still lingered, but you wanted it to, it only made this whole thing hotter. “Layla don’t stop, your pussy feels so good on mine, please don’t stop” you were begging, having to take breaks from your words to let out the moans she was fucking out of you. One hand reached up to grab her big boobs, bouncing and swaying in front of you as she let her pussy circle your clit perfectly. The sight of her getting herself off on you was overwhelming. Her hair was stuck to her flushed forehead, eyeliner smudged only making it sexier. Her head was thrown back showing off her neck and collarbones so nicely, and her free boob was boucing with every move she made. The pleasure made her abs tighten, showing off her toned stomach and her belly button twinkled with the light pink glow of your room. “Mmm baby you pussy feels so good, you’re gonna make me cum” she groaned a little too loudly, before closing her mouth and humming intensely, trying to keep in her moans. Her words brought you right to the edge and you began thrusting up and down against her, needing to feel more, needing to get out this aggression somehow. “Oh shit, oh fuck you’re gunna make me cum Layla, fuck…. Cum with me please baby” you begged. As soon as you got your words out you hit your high, throwing your hand over your mouth as you came hard. Layla came at the same time, both of you thrusting harder and trying your best to keep your moans quiet. You could feel your cum mixing with hers, drenching both of you messily. Your legs shook against hers as you both continued to ride out your highs. It was as if you were floating together, lifted off the bed in one tangled mess, hypnotized and high from how good you were making eachother feel

She finally collapsed next to you as you both worked hard to catch your breath. You were silent for a moment, still only half way back on earth. After a while you were able to find your words again “What the fuck just happened” you laughed out in between your panting. “I interrupted you getting yourself off and i helped out” she laughed back at you. “Helped me out too, damn” she continued. “Jesus” you sighed, still trying to ground yourself. “I know” she responded, very much in the same state you were. You laid there trying to process what just happened, trying to understand how Layla was laying next you, both fully naked, both covered in each other's cum.

[chewnotchoke]

don't ask me where i've been - l.riwoo

note: before anything else, this all started bcs of this tiktok and i thought 'wow he's so fucking sexy i should make a cocky riwoo fic' and boom :) ,,, he's not super cocky here but yk his confidence is on another level

vibes are kinda based from friends by chase atlantic so go take a listen :)

warnings: drinking, partying, making out, no smut, riwoo is a chase atlantic song personified (he's just so hot), and just riwoo being the cool guy he is

word count: 1.6k

more under the cut!

to find freedom after a relentless week of exams is what you always seek, and the place to go to is the club. with the beats pulsing through the air, the swirling lights and LEDs wrapping around you melted the exhaustion and sleepless night you had for a week. a table was reserved for you and your friends coming tonight. some of them welcomed you while others still hadn’t arrived. the laughter and greetings were barely audible from the sound booming across the place.

“what’s up, y/n! how was finals week? haven’t seen you around lately…” leehan offers you a shot of tequila which you politely decline. “barely survived, but i’m glad to be here!” you weren’t planning on drinking a lot tonight, but there sure are a lot of influences around you. a few drinks wouldn’t kill you anyway.

the bitter taste of tequila spread around your mouth, fiery and intense. your face contorted with a grimace as the liquid went down, biting onto the lime barely after a second. leehan smiles in satisfaction and you can only roll your eyes.

the strobe of lights slices through the darkness, casting fleeting glimpses of pleasure on faces flushed with ecstasy while the music fills every corner of the room. “are we not going to dance yet?” you ask him. “let’s wait for everyone else.”

“like who?”

“riwoo, and sungho.”

you couldn’t even care less about the latter, but the mention of riwoo’s name sent a shiver of excitement and nervous energy cascading through your veins. the room seemed to shift, the lights becoming more vibrant, and the sounds more distinct, all because he was coming.

oh, riwoo. you had few interactions with him but there’s just something so captivating in him that draws you closer. the anticipation was thrilling and the mere thought of seeing him made your palms sweat. you lost track of the time that you didn’t notice he had just arrived.

he was wearing a white undershirt, a black zip jacket with collar, a dirty wash color of denim jeans, a wristwatch on his left wrist, and a sunglass that sat above his head, pushing his hair back. the sight of him caught your heart in a delightful turmoil.

‘he looks so fucking good.’ a warm blush crept up your cheeks, and you quickly lowered your gaze, afraid that your eyes would betray the whirlwind of emotions stirring within you.

he flashed his eyebrows as he greeted you with a smile, mischievous and warm. you watch him gulp down the same drink leehan offered earlier. this scene wasn’t new to you, but being around these people is. you were only close with leehan, jaehyun who came with you earlier.

but that’s what friday is for, right? having fun. and you bet it’s gonna be more fun with riwoo and his other friends around.

“what do you think about going wild before going to the dance floor, riwoo?” sungho arches his eyebrows, smirking. “wild? what do you mean?” riwoo asks, looking around, as if he doesn’t know what his friend’s intention was. without giving him a proper answer, sungho pours a drink for riwoo and hands him the saucer of lime and salt.

you're perched on a stool, watching attentively then riwoo walks closer to you.

“do you want to do a body shot?”

the bar's dimly lit pulsing lights created a dazzling array of hues across the floor, reflecting off the mirrored walls and blending with the electric hum of dialogues and music. you can’t help but laugh nervously. did i just get chosen by riwoo? to do a body shot?

“me?” the thought of it seems so wild, so out of the ordinary for a friday night. but the atmosphere is infectious, and the rhythm of the night seems to nudge you towards a yes. cheers and laughter echo around you, creating a clamor of excitement. you see riwoo’s face dominating above, eyes sparkling with playful determination.

“sure, why not?”

with a confident grin, riwoo leaned forward, the warmth of his breath mingling with the faint scent of tequila he drank earlier. he gently sprinkled salt along the curve of your neck.

the room seemed to hold its breath as riwoo licked the salt from your neck, his tongue leaving a trail of tingling sensation that made your knees weak. his lips lingered for a moment longer than necessary, a tempting tease that sent trembles down your spine. riwoo picked up the lime wedge, his fingers brushing against your skin as he held it ready. then, with experienced ease, riwoo threw back the shot. the lime followed, his teeth scraping your fingertips as he sucked the tangy juice, your heart racing at the sheer intimacy of the moment.

the crowd erupts in applause and yells, the noise almost deafening but thrilling all the same. it’s reckless and a bit silly, but in the contagious energy of the night, it feels just right. you didn’t notice how long you’ve been looking at riwoo that he had to snap at you to get your attention.

“what are you looking at? just tell me if you wanna kiss me i’d let you do it.”

he smirks, turning around as he goes back to his friends circling the table with rims of shot glasses lined up. leehan came and wooed, nudging your shoulder with his as he brought another glass of drink.

“i might die before i even get drunk.” you gulped the alcohol in one shot, your cheeks heating up as you barely tried to catch up with everything that was happening around you.

the night deepens and the air becomes thicker with the scent of perfume and sweat. your head starts feeling a little heavy, and your surroundings get a little hazy as the neon lights cast over your face and all around the area. after a few dances, you have been sitting beside your friends for almost an hour as you try to catch up with them, and riwoo is there too.

you were too busy chatting with drunk jaehyun to notice, but riwoo had been stealing you a few glances. a few interactions happened earlier again like him passing the glass to you, or eyes meeting as you laugh together over the story taesan was telling earlier. (like this)

then, the music shifted to a familiar song. without a word, everyone moved to the dance floor. riwoo suddenly grabs your wrist and navigates you through the crowd, following everyone else to the platform. the floor vibrated beneath your feet, and you felt a rush of exhilaration as you danced with wild abandon, your body moving in time with the beat, and mind blissfully blank.

slightly intoxicated, he sways behind you with his grip on your waist, warm and reassuring. the rhythm of the music thrummed through your veins, and suddenly, all the awkwardness and self-consciousness melted away. you moved together, your bodies finding a sync that felt as natural as breathing.

riwoo starts telling something inaudible because of the blasting music.

“what?”

“i said you smell good!” his voice a little louder. you turn around to take a good look at him but his eyes are wandering around. not long after, you caught his attention when you asked him, “really?” and he leaned forward closer to your neck, his warm breath wrapping over your skin as his nose caught the scent of your perfume.

“you do,” he says. “sorry, i’m kinda drunk.” his hand palms over his face, trying to keep himself sober but we all know he’s not.

under the dark lights and swirling haze of the the bar, the unsaid tension burst into something palpable and undeniable. his eyes are deep pools of enigmatic charm. they're the kind of eyes that see through the ordinary, making you feel like you're the most captivating person in the world when his gaze locks with yours. there’s a depth there, a magnetic pull that makes looking away seem impossible.

at that moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just you and riwoo, as if the music and the crowd had faded into the background.

“wanna do it? let's go outside.”

riwoo drags you out of the place as he brings you to the parking lot lit only by the distant, flickering streetlights. you leaned your body against the door of the car’s trunk. not a single figure was seen and riwoo slowly slanted in, narrowing the gap between your lips and faces. the taste of whiskey and something sweet—sunkist, maybe—mingled in the kiss, intoxicating in its own right.

riwoo’s body presses against yours while your fingers trace the back of his neck. it was clumsy and urgent, the kind of kiss that only comes from a place of uninhibited desire, fueled by the haze of alcohol.

you were fazed by how riwoo was enthusiastic with the way his hand was roaming behind your small back, and the other tangling in your hair. his lips moved in sync with yours. he regained his composure and reminded himself of what was happening; he was really kissing you, you were really kissing him, and suddenly the world around the two of you became meaningless.

it was messy and imperfect, yet somehow perfect in its raw intensity. something about the taste of riwoo’s lips was intoxicating, making you need more—need everything. the night was alive with your shared breath, the feverish heat of your kiss cutting through the cool night air. his hands went from the side of your head, down to the back of your neck.

“should they know about this?” you backed away, almost sober.

“why not? shouldn't they know that we just had a hot make out session, and i'm a good kisser?” he sneaks in an arrogant smile, “let's go back.”

as you went back to the pub, riwoo remained on the dance floor to have fun with the guys while you head over to the shared table, finding leehan alone, drunk as you guessed.

“weren't you dancing earlier? taesan and i couldn't find you.”

“don't ask me where i've been. i just made out with riwoo.”

and if there's one thing you've learned that night, riwoo was a crazy bottom-lip kisser :)

i'm going crazy over riwoo and it's not even healthy anymore,, i'm going insane writing nor reading a fic is not enough!! i just need him right Now!!

he's so chase atlantic code here wtf i had to listen to a whole ca playlist while writing this and it fits him so bad!

anyway,,tell me how this went through the comments, reblogs, or wherever!!! i love feedbacks plsplspls

[sturncrazy]

LIFE OF THE PARTY PART ONE:

( prt 2 )

- Chris Sturniolo x y/n (fem)

- warnings: mentioning of drinking, language, kissing, some making out

- authors note: this chpt is pretty pg nothing beyond a little heavy kissing….things don’t heat up until the next part. you gotta have some build up yk…

summary: you attended an end of year party for your school with your friends but run into chris who you don’t get along with. someone has the bright idea of starting a game of spin the bottle and your whole night changes…

word count: 2,224 w

—————————————————————————

It was one of the last friday nights of school before your summer vacation started and you were trying to make the most of it by dragging yourself out to a party with you friends. It was a small party, all things considered, with only about 25 other people there, but it was still enough bodies to make the basement setting a bit stuffy for your liking. The room buzzed with voices and shitty rap music from some of the boys being on aux. The dim orangey old lighting made the room feel extra hazy. You sat on a couch surveying the group and fussy with your skirt that was a little too short to sit safely. The group was full of familiar faces from your classes, some more than others. You noticed your friend Madi, who’d wanted you to come here in the first place, already stumbling and slurring a bit in the corner by some guys. Staring down at your lukewarm half empty white claw, you decided to go get something stronger…it would be an awfully long night if you ended up being the sober one. As you headed towards the table with the drinks you bumped into Matt.

“Hey y/n! You okay?”

he asked giving you a half hug. you and Matt had been friends for a couple years now after you’d gotten close to his brother nick. Matt was a sweetheart and always had a reassuring presence.

“Yeah! Hey Matt! Yeah no i’m good just need somethin else to drink”

“Gotcha. Well Chris is lurking over by the drinks so tell him i said to stop being a dick to everyone when you see him” He said letting out a small snort and then running off to catch up with his friend Nate.

Perfect…you’d have to interact with Chris. You couldn’t understand why, but you and Chris never clicked. It was strange since you were so close with both his brothers and Madi, who was basically his sister, was your best friend. But the two of you never got along. He was snarky and condescending. You didn’t like his whole superiority complex. And you knew it was a mutual issue. He always made underbreath remarks about you being a “tight ass.” Even though that wasn’t the case at all, you were just shy. Whatever, doesn’t matter what he thinks you thought to yourself as you built back up the will power to continue your mission to get another drink.

You tried to avoid looking at Chris as you scanned the half emptied bottles of various liquors, all probably snagged from oblivious parents collections, but you could feel his eyes drilling into your skull.

“Another drink already y/n?” Chris snarled at you.

“What? you expecting me to hand you a drink voucher or something?” you spat back still avoiding actually looking at him.

“No need to get all huffy. just thought you’d be shitting yourself after a sip of a claw is all” he snickered at his own comment.

“You know I can drink, Chris. You’ve seen me drink before” You said snagging a solo cup and pouring some juice in it.

“Oh no….do we need to have an intervention is it time for the AA meeting?” he teased, mocking you, as you started to unscrew a bottle of vodka. this made you snap.

“screw you you know what i meant. Don’t give me shit. at least i’m actually fun at parties” you said, finally looking up at him. He stood lazily leaning against the wall. he wore loose fit black jeans that sat on his body casually with air forces peaking out of the bottom paired with a simple white t shirt. a stupidly simple outfit that had no business looking that good. You felt a lump in your throat as you scanned his face. Wide blue eyes, slightly hazy from whatever was in his own red cup he’d been toying with, gazed at you with a sarcastic glint through a curtain of mussed brown hair. You hated the fact that for some reason actually looking a Chris always made your stomach do a little cartwheel.

“Like you weren’t just off in the corner just like me a few minutes ago” he retorted

“What’re you watching me?”

“Just observing my surroundings” he lifted his glass to you in a phony cheers before taking a sip, annoyingly unbothered by your attempted jab at him.

“Well it’s not my fault that the party’s been a little dull” you sulked and let a few too many glugs of vodka slam into your cup

“Don’t blame the party. we both know even if this was a rager you’d be clinging to a wall. You’re not capable of letting loose, but hey not everyone in this world is meant to have fun. it’s why we have like math and shit”

You knew he was doing whatever he could to just get under your skin and it was working. You hated how much you wanted to prove him wrong, but you knew another word out of you in protest would only make him cockier. You slammed your revolting concoction to try to suffocate the things you wanted to spit out at him. Shivering slightly, you made another cup full, aware of the fact that his eyes were still on you. Luckily, in that moment a plastered Madi came bounding over to you with Nick not far behind.

“Y/N cmon we’re gonna start a around of spin the bottle so I can try to kiss the boy from my biology class i was telling you about”

“But shhhhh donttell anyone cause it’s a secret” Nick added drunkly giggling and clinging to madi

“I dunno guys isn’t that game kinda childish” you said mostly fearing the idea of getting stuck kissing some gross slobbery drunk guy

“oh cmonnnnn y/n don’t be boring it’ll be funnnn it’s always fun to stir the pot at parties” Nick continued whining

“Yeah don’t be boring y/n” Chris chimed in, clearly listening in on this whole conversation.

“Chris come on you come too!” Madi said attempting to drag him in

“If i have to watch him kiss anyone i will puke on the spot” Nick said grimacing at the thought

“Yeah i’ll pass” Chris said pulling back

“Ugh whatever, you coming y/n?” Madi asked pleading with you. You hesitated. Chris let out a small chuckle

“What?” you asked him.

“Nothin. Just the day I see you play a game like that i’ll shit twice and die.”

“hmmm. your funeral. yeah madi, let’s go” you said taking your friends hand and shooting him a look. for a second you thought you saw a wave of actual surprise flash across his face.

“REALLY?! YAY!!!” Madi cheered doing a little dance and pulling you to follow nick who’d already darted off to collect other people to play. Chris stood there looking unsure of what to do, but unfortunately Madi saw this too. She grabbed him by the wrist with her other hand yanking him along too

“Cmon chris if you’re such a lady’s man u can’t back out of a little game”

The three of you joined a cluster forming on the floor of people surrounding an empty pink whitney bottle. Chris had managed to break off from Madis grasp, but hadn’t decided to leave the circle. Instead he headed towards a few of his lacrosse friends. You carefully sat on the floor beside Madi as Nick started the game.

The beginning part was boring— mostly suffering through watching other intoxicated teens smush spitty mouths together. you found yourself continually reaching for your little red cup to make the experience more tolerable. It had started to have its effects on you and you were sitting in a blissful bubble of your own fuzzy buzzed state when you became aware of madi poking at you.

“Cmon y/n go! it’s your turn to spin” she slurred as your face flushed hot with embarrassment from delaying the game. you heard chris and one of his friends snicker and you shot him daggers from across the room as you reached for the bottle. You gave it a solid spin and watched it rotating, making you dizzy. slowly it began to end its journey and pick your fate. it stopped. you heard an “oh shit” muttered from close by your side as your gaze followed the direction of the bottle cap…to a pair of white air forces sticking out of black denim. No fucking way. you thought to yourself as you were met by the same wide blue eyes from earlier looking at you. Annoyingly unfazed yet again. Chris.

“Puckerup Chrissy” one of his friends laughed shoving at him

Your body froze as he actually began to move forward towards you. He was close enough you could smell the exhilarating sent of his cologne. Your breath hitched as you realized maybe there was a part of you excited for this kiss.

“let’s just get this over with, yeah?” Chris said before leaning in and giving you a heartless peck on the lips. Your heart sank and you felt a flick of shame and rage heat the back of your neck.

This was only made worse when a few turns further in the game chris landed on a different girl and you watched in horror as they sloppily kissed far longer than a first land in the game was supposed to call for. As he pulled away from her you could’ve sworn you caught him look at you for a reaction. A desire to get back at him bubbled inside of you. When your next turn came you spun the bottle as hard as you could, trying to ignore the jittering mix of nerves and anger in your body. slowing slowing slowing…..stopped. You looked. on the other end of the bottle was Nate. Chris’s best friend. Bingo. The spin the bottle gods had been on your side.

Nate gave you a small smile as you two met in the middle of the circle. You leaned in for a heated kiss which was met by nate eagerly pushing into the early stages of a make out. A series of “oooooo”s let out across the room at your display. You pulled away and were pleasantly surprised to see a disgusted glance from chris. he slammed the rest of his drink and attempted to look distracted.

the rest of the game was taking far too long for your liking as people started having repeats which lead to make out sessions. but you knew the worst would be when the 7 minutes of heaven rounds started for the poor unfortunate suckers who got stuck with the same person 3 times. Your third turn came and you gave the bottle a pathetically weak spin…probably a result of your beverage. it gave a half-assed scooch.

“NO WAY” you heard madi chuckle and to your horror you saw it was Chris…again. But this time there’d be no escaping it with a peck. You’d be counted down for 10 seconds to make out. 10 whole seconds. you’d rather die.

“Cmon Chris don’t mail it in this time pussy” you heard his friend taunt.

If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve said he looked almost nervous as he approached you again. This gave you a strange sense of confidence and you wanted to embarrass him some more. You leaned in and gave him a passionate kiss. Charged by the rage and disgust for him and desire to prove him wrong…or so you told yourself…you felt him freeze on the other side of your lips as the group chanted “SIX FIVE FOUR” but in those last four seconds something shifted. Suddenly his lips relaxed and molded against yours. You felt a him take a small inhale before diving back in with force against your mouth. for a moment you forgot this was ever a game. The two of you pulled apart from one another and you scurried back and started at your shoes in a desperate attempt to avoid any eye contact with chris after that. What was that. Something had felt like it was on fire during that kiss. It felt hungry and desperate. Not like a drunk make out or any stupid game. Mulling over what had happened you lost track of the game until you heard someone say “ok chris your go”

your head shot up. chris’s eyes were on you as he reached for the bottle. you watched as he gave it an oddly light spin. it landed on you.

the room was met with a deafening amount of “whoops” and cheers at the first 3rd land.

the first 7 minutes in heaven land. you thought you would throw up on the spot as your entire body froze.

“Into the closet you two” one of the girls said as she rushed over to open up a door to a dusty looking pocket of a room across the basement. you watched chris stand up and casually saunter over towards the storage space. Hands on your back shoved you forward…probably madi. swallowing, you forced yourself to move your legs hesitantly.

“what’re you afraid i’ll bite you? just fuckin get in” Chris said irritability, causally leaning back with his arms folded in the closet. You headed to the opened door.

—————————————————————————

HERES THE LINK TO PART 2 :

[sehodreams]

sex money feelings die - first visit

the start ↬ first visit ↬ second visit

WC: 2.6k

TW and Tags (permanent for the story): rich client!Anton x stripper!reader, smut, fluff (?), a touch of angst for the moment, inexperienced reader, fingering, kissing, lots of silly conversations.

Summary: Working at a night club was difficult in many aspects, your sleep schedule was messed up for life, your feet were more used to high heels than sneakers and you had to lie about where you went to work those nights. Still, even with all those cons, you didn't hate your job, you had more than enough to pay your bills, feed your brother and save money for his college. However, what happens when your boss makes you do the one thing you asked to never do.

When you arrived to the dressing room your anxiety won over you and you practically inhaled the granola bar Sungchan had gifted you, thanking him in your mind because if you hadn’t tasted something sweet, you would’ve cried right there in front of all the girls that had just arrived.

Anton Lee, Anton Lee, Anton Lee.

Your mind kept repeating his name like a stuck cassette. You knew him, everyone knew him, he was the highest payer and religiously came every Friday. It was impossible to not recognize him in the crowd even between the numerous young guys and expensive suits.

He was one of the few customers the girls actually fought for, leaving big bills and sharing his expensive bottles with the people that kept him company through the whole night.

You’ve danced for him a couple times, and he was completely hot, sometimes leaving you all flustered with how his eyes inspected you when you moved, but you never maintained a decent conversation him, even less accepted one of his drinks, always rejecting him with a smile and calling the other girls with more experience to entertain him, like Shotaro had said to the group, he was important and the place would suffer if he left, because just like a guide, his posh friends would leave with him too, so everyone had to entertain him with the best.

‘’What’s going on in that little head?’’ Sungchan asked behind you, following you to the VIP room Anton booked every time he visited.

‘’Just that I should’ve choose a simpler set today, you know him, he likes the innocent type’’ you sighed. All the girls that spent the night beside him wore soft makeup and light lingerie, while you preferred the smokey look you had learned when you started and bought the darkest tones for your looks. You were wearing your typical black set when you remembered what he liked, but you didn’t feel like changing just for him, your dark image was part of you there, and you wouldn’t leave who you were behind just because he wanted you to be his personal company.

You played with the tie of with your black robe, still feeling a kind of shyness you knew was silly to have at that point, but that was always there, following you every time you stopped being you and became the confident girl collecting man hearts like cards your clients knew.

‘’You look as gorgeous as always, angel’’ Sungchan said trying to calm you down. You were sure he didn’t know what Shotaro had ordered you to do, he’d never smile and let you enter that room otherwise.

You chuckled. ‘’Why do all of you still call me angel?’’, you were curious, months had gone by and they all called you the same nickname, not that you minded, but it seemed to come so easy for them to say that word, and maybe when you were a waitress it made sense, you used to wear the uniform like a good girl, shirt covering you to the neck and light makeup that made you stand out in the dramatic place full of neon lights, loud music and drunk people, but now that you had the aura of belonging there under your heavy makeup and your provocative outfits, you didn’t understand why they continued calling you like that.

‘’Once an angel, always an angel, doesn’t matter how you look now, you’re still the same good girl walking around.’’

Your eyes almost got wet, how could he say that so easily? if only he knew what you were about to do inside that room, you were sure he’d never call you that again.

‘’Thank you Sungchan’’ you said when he opened the door for you, and after walking in and looking back he mouthed a silent I’ll be here to then close it behind you.

Anton was already there, and unlike other days, none of his friends were on his side.

You thanked God, at least he had the decency to do his business in private.

No sound came out of your mouth when you saw him. He was gifting you his typical sweet smile, confident and elegant, his lips pushing a delicate curve on the end of his smile, cat like and a touch mischievous. You couldn’t give him the same smile, and maybe he waited for you to talk first, because when he saw you wouldn’t his smile flattered a little.

‘’Good afternoon’’ he finally said. His voice was soft, sure he never had to be loud before, you thought about it before, how he and his friends had that gentle tone when they asked for things until they got drunk, getting to the conclusion that they never had to demand loudly anything since their wishes were constantly being heard by the people around them, people that served them.

Now you were one of them too and that realization made you uncomfortable.

The warm and mature fragrance of his cologne filled your lung, not helping your nerves calm at all, and when the room started to feel hotter, you opened your robe with the hope of gaining some of the imaginary confidence you always had on stage. Your eyes never left his while you did it, slowly letting it slide under your arms until it fell to your feet, and when you saw his throat gulp and his eyes flutter, you wished you hadn’t wasted your favorite black lacy set with little gold details on him, because he seemed to enjoy it a bit too much.

Shotaro had asked you to wear something more comfortable since you weren’t supposed to dance, so you grabbed the old stilettos you used to wear while serving drinks, and since they were less high than usual you thought it would be less tempting, but the combination of them with your black stocking made your legs look a lot more seductive and less intimidating to him, having the contrary effect without you noticing.

You advanced to him and he uncrossed his legs to welcome you over his lap with much pleasure.

Before going in you had decided you’d give him the most boring and bland sex of his life so he never felt the need to call you alone, and if it was fast, it wouldn’t hurt that much, right? You wanted to end it as fast as you could and go home to shower again, having for complete the night, with the hope of forgetting him, and he forgetting you, for your next shift.

Your hips timidly moved over him and his hands found your waist almost immediately, letting them rest over the naked skin between the pieces of cloth with a lot more confidence than you, watching you move over him with apparent knowledge. To be honest, your experience was completely amateur, having fucked only one guy one time, you tried to think in the many choreographies you had practiced and the numerous adult videos you watched, with the goal of getting him aroused and quickly finishing the job.

‘’So beautiful’’ he appreciated, making you press your nails in your palms. The granola bar you pushed in your throat minutes ago to calm your anxiety started to revolve inside your stomach, making your forehead sweat of nervousness. You should’ve remembered to not eat before that because every time you felt that kind of tension you felt yourself about to puke, but now it was too late, and he could easily see your discomfort all over your face. ‘’Are you okay?’’ he asked preoccupied, hands not pressing as hard as before and stopping you instead.

‘’Yes, sorry, let’s continue’’ you apologized, trying to go back to the activity you had started of moving your hips to lure him.

It didn’t work, soon you really felt yourself about to gag and jumped away from his body to not puke over his designer shirt, sitting next to him in the large velvet couch.

He grabbed one of the water bottles that were neatly arranged over the little table next to him and opened it for you, putting in your hand to then pat your back just like mothers did to their kids.

You drank half the bottle and he laughed.

‘’You’re so funny.’’

Your eyebrows frowned, what did he mean with funny? He was supposed to find you ravaging, fuck you and leave you after getting what he wanted, not to see you as his comedy relief when disgust bashed you. Well, wasn’t that supposed to happen? But he was there, next to you, laughing and patting your back to stop your nauseas.

‘’I didn’t think you would want your company tonight to be funny’’ you said almost angry.

He stopped laughing and, feeling the indignation coming out of your mouth, agreed with you to not offend you anymore.

‘’Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, I just wanted to know you better in privacy’’. He seemed to understand you, but how could he? He was the one who put you in that situation, and just as fast as you felt bad for using a rude tone with him, you felt yourself getting heated again.

Suddenly a song started playing and the neon lights reflected lines around you two. They blinded him for a second, not used to them as much as you, while you felt a sense of comfort finally cooling your angriness.

Exhaling a long second your frown fell and, even with the sexy song sounding through the speakers, the provocative energy of the place couldn’t reach you anymore, making the silence between you two too torturous to start again.

‘’My name is Anton, Anton Lee’’ he said, trying to break it.

‘’You know how to call me’’ You never used your real name inside the local, every girl had a stage name that used with the clients and yours had been assigned by Shotaro.

He wanted to call you angel at first, just like everyone did, but you didn’t want to have such a pretty and innocent name when you were about to take your clothes off.

‘’I see’’ he wanted to hear your real name, but he knew you wouldn’t give it to him so easily. The expectations for tonight were more about hearing you talk about what you liked and what you did like you did with your regulars, he had concluded from all your rejections that you would never give him what he wanted just like that, that’s why he got surprised when you walked to him so decided, not that he hadn’t liked to see such a pretty girl open her robe and walk to him with such intense eyes, it was one of the hottest things he had ever seen in his life, but not what he intended for his first night with you. ‘’I think angel fits you more, if you don’t mind me calling you that, I’ve heard how the others do it.’’

Working there you had received all kind of requests from men, to asphyxiate them with your tits, to spit on their faces, one even asked you to kick him in the balls, but somehow, they were a lot easier to answer than this one.

To accept or not, you didn’t know what to do. It was just a nickname, not even your real name, and still fell it too personal to say yes.

‘’It’s okay if you don’t want to, but I would like to hear your thoughts about it at least, I really want to know you better.’’

‘’I don’t get it, what do you mean with know me better?’’ He smiled, happy to finally hear you talking with him without being angry or cutting.

‘’I’ve heard you talking with your regulars, and it seemed like you have many things to say.’’

You frowned. ‘’Do you mean how I talk with them about what food and music I like?’’

‘’Yes, exactly that, I just want to hear about you, what you like, what you hate, what you care about, what you don’t care about, anything.’’

‘’That’s really vague, I don’t know what about me could be interesting to you.’’

His eyes searched around the room trying to find anything to talk about without you sounding desperate to escape from.

‘’Maybe, if you don’t mind me asking, why were you about to throw up over me?’’

You glared at him, ‘’I do mind, no thank you.’’

Baffled with your answer but still amused he shook his head with a smile, ‘’I see, well, thank you for telling me.’’

For the first time since you entered that room, you laughed and felt relaxed beside him.

You didn’t mean to, but even you found funny how he accepted everything you said when it was supposed to be the other way around, you should be the one saying yes to everything he said, but here you were, bitterness filling your mouth with every sentence that came out of it, and his answering with honeyed words.

The way your eyes closed, and your lips pressed to not show your teeth was the most adorable thing he had seen from you directed to him. He had always been envious of your regular clients and how they always got to see you giving them your attention while dancing for them.

He hated to go out of the VIP room, the place reeked like cheap perfume and national cigarettes, odors he wasn’t used to in his little perfect world, and you preferred that space to the room full of bottles that costed more taxes than the whole drink menu. How did he end in that place? Even he can’t remember it exactly, he just recalls one of his friends telling him he had found really pretty girls coming here, and even if the clients weren’t as exclusive as him, your coworkers were all gorgeous enough to work in any other place they wanted, except that, just like he had discovered not long ago, not many places offered as much security like this one.

He had seen other clubs a lot more upscaled than this corner, but none of them watched their girls as much as this place, and most of them were brothels too, so he kind of guessed why all those pretty girls, including you, preferred this place to those snob clubs.

With his happy grin he exhaled after making you laugh, proud of himself.

The pleasant harmony didn’t last long, soon one of the security guys that always followed you opened the door, interrupting the moment that had just started to become enjoyable for you too.

‘’Time’s up’’ Sungchan said with the serious and strong face he showed to all the clients, so they didn’t mess with him.

The neon lights were replaced by the yellowish warm one of the chandelier above you two, music over thanks to the button outside he pressed when the time finished, to signal that you had to leave for your next client or show. He did it so the clients didn’t force you to stay, and you usually followed him immediately, but this time you didn’t know what to say or do, you weren’t sure if to tell him that you hadn’t started yet or how to tell him that Anton had paid for your company the whole night without sounding suspicious.

At the end you didn’t need to.

‘’Time’s up’’ Anton repeated.

‘’But we haven’t…’’ before you continued, he smiled at you and nodded.

‘’Until next time’’

Shotaro gave you that night what you usually did in an entire week.

the start ↬ first visit ↬ second visit

[mermaidgirl30]

Shout out to @mandoisapunk for being my beta reader! One shot is posted on A03! @pedrostories

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairings: Joel x Reader, Joel x female reader

Word count: 8,905

Summary: After having a bad breakup with Joel Miller, you decide you need a night at the bar to relax and meet someone new. Little do you know, Joel is there but he’s with someone new. Will you let your jealousy get the best of you or will you get revenge with another man at the bar?

Warnings/Tags: No Outbreak, jealousy, angst, longing, fluff and smut, cream pie, oral, fingering, unprotected P in V, Dom Joel, possessive Joel, porn with plot, lots of smut, drama, makeup sex

It was a warm summer evening. The Texas heat was brutal, but the nighttime was just a little more bearable as the temperature dropped from 100 to the 80’s. It was Friday night, the one night where the city of Austin came to life the most. Cars crowded the streets with their flashy lights and music that was turned up too loud. Just a normal start to the weekend.

You’d spent most of the early evening getting ready in your too bright, too bulky vanity. Caking your lips with the darkest red lipstick you could find, putting on that perfect shade of pink eyeshadow, getting your eyeliner smooth and sharp, and curling your hair into long waves. You had to look perfect tonight. You were in the mood to flirt, maybe meet a nice guy, maybe bring someone home. It was all up in the air, you just needed to get out of the house. You needed attention. Needed to get your mind off him. It had been a long, insufferable week at work, and you just needed a break.

You walked down Sixth Street that was filled with busy bars and noisy people, settling on a bar called The Black Stallion. A bar you usually didn’t go to. You could’ve gone to all your usuals, but you figured you’d try something new. Maybe tonight would be your lucky night.

You didn’t answer the phone when the girls called earlier, you just needed a night alone to unwind, uncoil all your raging thoughts that had been stirring in your mind.

You’d been doing so good lately. It’d been days since you last saw him. Weeks since you last touched him. You didn’t need him though. It was over between you two, and you had to accept it.

Acceptance could be messy though, and that’s what you’d been lately. A fucking wreck. You thrived off cheap liquor and lousy hook ups to get you through the weeks, trying your best to move on and keep your mind busy. It didn’t really work much though.

Not really.

But you were getting better. One day at a time.

You’d gone days without thinking of him, keeping your mind on men that could be your next obsession to fill the void. Someone who would want to wine and dine you, treat you right. You liked Golden Retriever boyfriends who were kind and sweet. But they weren’t anywhere near what Doberman boyfriends were. Overprotective, loyal, powerful. The ones that say “Touch her and you die” kind of vibes. That’s what Joel was, your Doberman…

No, fuck that and fuck him. You were not doing this tonight. You were here to have fun, to meet someone new. No more thoughts of Joel. He was in the past. You had to look towards your future, with someone better.

Something pulled deep inside you though. Something you pushed down, crushing it with the too high black heels you had on. Sinking it further into the cracks with every clank they made against the pavement that you walked across. This was your time to shine, to go in there and act like you own the place. You sighed and took a deep breath, calming yourself before you stepped in.

You walked into the lit up bar with your head held high. The air smelled like all sorts of liquor and the hint of cigarette smoke that lingered high in the air. The place was packed. Bodies were littered all around you. A couple that was too cozy wrapped themselves up together right next to the door, melding together in a passionate kiss. You rolled your eyes and kept moving forward, it made you sick.

It was dim in here as the lights were down low. You moved past the packed in bodies and found a seat at the bar, pulling back a black barstool and sitting down. You leaned against the dark wood bar top and settled in, looking around at your surroundings. A large mirror covered the back wall as bottles of liquor sat on one another, making all sorts of fancy patterns next to the glass cups.

A pack of older biker men sat a few seats away from you, already ogling you. You wanted to roll your eyes, yell for them to stop staring, but it was pointless. You knew you looked good. You could snatch up any man you wanted if you really tried. But the only man you wanted attention from was gone. You pushed past the thought and flashed them a smile, not caring if you didn’t really mean to be flirty with them. They could have one smile. That was it.

The bartender came over to you, about to take your drink order you assumed. He was handsome, maybe just a couple years older than you. He had black slicked back hair and green eyes that could entrance any sane woman. He was over 6 feet tall and had a nice build. Seemed like a charming gentleman.

“What are you drinking tonight, sweetheart?” he asked smoothly, cleaning off a glass cup with a towel.

“Whiskey and coke, please,” you purred, gently smiling at him.

“A whiskey girl huh?” He raised an eyebrow in surprise.

You shrugged your shoulders. “It’s what I like.”

“Figured you’d be a fruity cocktail girl.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” you raised an eyebrow in defense.

“No disappointment here,” he said as he raised his hands in defeat. “One whiskey and coke coming right up.” He moved away and started mixing together your drink, watching him closely to make sure he knew what he was doing.

The truth was whiskey and coke wasn’t your usual. Not until you met Joel, then you were hooked. It was his favorite, his go to, his only choice of alcohol. And now it was yours as well. A taste you couldn’t shake. Your own personal brand of heroin. A taste you could get drunk off.

You remembered so clearly what it was like to hang off his lips, his breath smelling of whiskey as he drew you in, tangling his tongue with yours as you melted into him. A tingle ran down your spine just thinking of the way you got lost in his scent. Whiskey and mahogany. Your two favorite scents. You threw the thoughts out of your head quick before the bartender came back over. What the hell was wrong with you? It was over, done.

He came back and set the drink in front of you. “Here ya go, one whiskey and coke on the house. One of those gentlemen over there paid for your drink.”

You looked over and nodded to the man who did. He wasn’t your type at all. Short, buzz cut hair style, and grey eyes. You were still polite and smiled, looking back at the bartender. “Thanks.”

“Enjoy. Let me know if you need anything.” He smiled and turned away, going to help another customer a few seats away.

You took the straw that was in the drink and spun it around, watching the ice clink together as the amber colored liquid mixed before your eyes. You listened to the soft hum of Metallica carry through the bar, easing your mind of any tension you had seconds ago. You took a sip of your drink as the cold liquid ran down your throat, the sweet aftertaste hitting seconds later, covering the burn of the whiskey.

You glanced around the room, taking in the low lighting the bar encapsulated, watching the spin of couples on the small wooden dance floor, scanning the doorway as men trailed in and out of the bar. You were trying your best to relax.

Your eyes made their way to the pool tables, scanning over the groups of people that were crowded around them. The black walls mixed in with the red carpets of the pool table tops, along with the cue sticks that sat against the walls. You relaxed against the bar top, your knees grazing against the table.

Two couples that were holding hands walked away from the pool tables, making a clear path for you to see. As you took another drink from the cold glass, you froze. Choking on your alcohol and tipping the glass over, spilling it all over the bar surface as the glass hit the ground and shattered into tiny pieces.

Holy shit. What stood across the bar was a sight that blinded you. You felt as if a car had just crashed into you, your insides completely wrecked. Joel. There he was in his favorite red plaid shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows as his thick arms hugged the smooth material. Bulging veins covered his arms, his huge hands on each side of the pool table. Except they weren’t just on the pool table. He was leaning over some girl, and his hands were covering her waist.

You choked again on nothing, your throat constricting. She had big, blonde hair that was caked in hairspray. Her icy blue eyes fell over his face, a big red lipstick smile covering her mouth. Her double D’s were spilling out over her too small hot pink tank top. Her denim shorts were hiked up, almost showing her ass. She looked like the city slut, an instant sour taste entering your mouth.

Who the fuck did Joel Miller think he was taking out? Why was he with her? She was definitely not his type, but apparently you didn’t know what his type was anymore. It obviously wasn’t you.

Suddenly your short black dress felt too short, felt too tight as your chest suffocated against it. Your heels felt too tall, too uncomfortable. Your matted red lips felt dry, your throat barely catching any air. You swore you were about to get sick. You didn’t know if you wanted to scream at the top of your lungs or cry. Maybe you wanted to go pull out her fake bleach blonde extensions. You weren’t a violent person, but your insides were burning just watching her. Little miss give me attention getting ogled and touched by the Joel Miller. Give me a fucking break.

“You alright there, sweetheart? You broke your glass and look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” The sweet bartender was back in front of you, cleaning up the whiskey that you had spilt.

“I’m fine,” you said with gritted teeth, turning back to glance at just how close Joel was to the blonde bitch. Sliding his fingers over her thigh, teaching her exactly where to aim the cue stick on the table, leaning down against her. You were boiling alive inside, about to either run out of the bar or stand your ground and watch as jealousy burned through you.

“You don’t look fine to me,” he said carefully. “Now, what do you keep looking at huh?” He turned his head and looked in the direction of the pool tables. He spotted Joel and his new girl hovering over the pool table, all smiles and laughs. Pathetic.

“Oh, I see. You looking at that couple over there? He an old flame or something?”

“Something like that,” you said quietly, teeth still bared.

“That girl over there is named Brianna. She’s a frequent to this bar. I see her all the time with a different guy. She knows how to get around. She’s been coming with that one the past week though which is unusual. She usually doesn’t stick around that long before she’s on to the next guy.”

“That’s just lovely,” you said sarcastically with a scowl on your face.

“Hey, look at me a minute. Let me give you some advice,” he said gently.

You turned towards him and rested your elbows on the table, leaning in so you could hear him clearly.

“You’re really worried about that guy? Honey, this whole bar is after you. And there’s a guy on the end right over there that has had his eye on you ever since you stepped foot in here.” He pointed out a man at the end of the bar, sitting alone with a beer in his hand. He was good looking. Really good looking.

Tousled blonde hair with bright blue eyes and a jawline so sharp that it could kill. He was wearing dark faded jeans and a black button up, the top buttons undone and his tie loose. His sleeves were rolled up to expose a black intricate snake tattoo that ran up his entire arm. Whoa. Okay, this guy wasn’t just hot, he was sexy. Maybe even boyfriend material.

“Let me give you some advice. If you want to get over someone, you get under someone. And I bet if he saw you with that guy sitting at the bar, he’d be jealous as fuck. I know I would be. I don’t know what happened between you two, but he messed up. And it’s his loss. Now, why don’t you put on a pretty smile and wave him over. Make that other guy regret ever letting you go.”

You thought about his words, let them sink in as they flowed through your mind. Make him regret ever letting you go. Okay. You could do this. You could make him jealous. Easy. You already had Mr. blondie on a tight leash. All you had to do now was pull.

The bartender placed another whiskey and coke drink in front of you, replacing your broken one. You took a large gulp and placed it back on the table, getting your courage up. Let the games begin.

You smirked over to the hot blonde, batting your long eyelashes at him, coaxing him to come join you at the bar. He gave you a devilish grin and stood up from his barstool, slowly making his way over to you. When he made it over, he pulled out the barstool next to you and sat down carefully.

“Didn’t think I’d get your attention tonight,” he said with a smirk, his blue eyes piercing into you, making your stomach flutter with butterflies.

“And why’s that?” you asked with a laugh.

“Because you’re the prettiest girl in the room.”

You gulped at the compliment, turning just slightly so your knees could brush up against his, scooting the tiniest bit closer, your dress hiking up half an inch, exposing more thigh. He stared down at your legs, going over every inch with his eyes, sending chills down your spine. He really was attractive. He had that typical bad boy look, but he also looked sweet. Maybe even caring. Guess you’d have to find out.

“You’re sweet,” you said with a blush forming on your cheeks.

“I try. What’s your name?” he asked genuinely. You gave him your name, and he said it back with a lull in his voice. A sweet sound you could get used to. “I’m Alexander, but you can call me Alex for short.”

He had an accent. Definitely not from Texas. He sounded like he was maybe from another country. “You’re not from around here, are you?” you asked curiously.

“I’m from England originally, but I’ve lived in California most of my life. I just moved here a few months ago for work. Trying to start up a business here and get it going before I go back to California.”

“Wow, an English man. I always loved the English accents. They always sounded so romantic.” You placed a hand on his thigh, leaning in closer, batting your eyelashes up at him. His eyes went wide as you slid your hand just a bit higher, stopping just short of his zipper. Putting the flames to the test. He passed with flying colors.

He gently laid one of his hands against the small of your back, sinking it down just before he could graze your ass. You didn’t mind. This is what you wanted right? To get under someone and forget Joel. Make him jealous so he knew exactly how you were feeling right now.

You glanced back over to the pool table, and he was planting a kiss on her cheek, hugging her from behind as she held the cue stick in her hand, trying hard to concentrate on where to aim. You wanted to vomit, but you tore your eyes away from them and focused on the hot man that was sitting next to you.

“So, what exactly do you do for work?” you asked casually, trying not to let your anger slip out in your tone.

“I run a few tech companies. Nothing too big. Oh, but we’re partnered with Apple, so we’re kind of a big deal,” he said nonchalantly, brushing it off.

Your eyes widened as you snickered. “Apple is huge! You must be swimming in money.”

“Something like that,” he laughed back at your response.

You flirted back and forth for the next few minutes, taking in the sounds of rock and roll music flowing through the bar, finding things in common to talk about. You could see this was going well. And if it went really well then you’d be in his bed by midnight.

“So, uhh you think you want to go on a date sometime? Maybe this weekend?” he asked shyly.

“Is this not a date right now?” you asked, running your fingers lightly up his striking snake tattoo. You could feel the goosebumps start to spread over his arm. Your plan was going exactly how you wanted it to.

“I mean, I want to take you out to dinner. Maybe take you home with me also…” he said quietly, watching you closely to see your reaction.

“Oh, I think I’ll let you do both,” you said flirtatiously, leaning in closer to him, lips hanging just below his.

He didn’t stutter one bit. He sealed the distance between you and pressed his lips against yours. It was a hot, sticky kiss as he moved his hand down to your ass, opening your mouth to invite him in. His tongue connected with yours as it swirled around, tasting like vodka and whiskey mixed together. After a couple of minutes of intense making out, you broke the kiss, sitting back in your own bar stool.

As you went to turn to your drink, you saw dark eyes staring at you intensely from across the bar, right next to the pool tables. It was Joel, and he was mad. No, more than mad. He looked livid, fuming with rage. He was holding the cue stick so hard in his hands that it looked like it was about to snap in half.

You didn’t know what to feel. Remorse, jealousy, sadness, your feelings were all over the place. But you had to see this through. You wanted him to hurt just as much as he had hurt you while having to watch that slut of his fall all over him. But something like regret washed over your insides, making your stomach drop at what you just did.

Alexander leaned over and kissed you softly on the cheek, putting his hand dangerously close to the inside of your thigh, hiking your dress up even more. You squeezed your legs together, not wanting him to expose too much to anyone else.

Joel threw down the cue stick on the pool table and grabbed the blonde’s wrist, pulling her to the bar table. The same one you were at. Fuck.

He pulled out an empty seat for the girl and sat down next to her, sitting right across the table from you. His eyes were searing into yours, about to burn you alive. You tried to look down, but you could still feel his heavy gaze on you. He wouldn’t let up. He was brooding.

The room was becoming too hot. Your head was fuzzy from the warm alcohol and your cheeks were flushed. You hadn’t even had that much to drink, but the way Joel was looking at you now was making you scorch with heat. You needed a cold glass of water and now.

You waved down the bartender and asked for a water. He quickly got you a cold glass and placed it in front of you. You didn’t even say thanks, you were too preoccupied with calming the hell down. You threw your head back as you chugged the water down, hoping it’d help cool you off.

As soon as you finished the water and placed the glass back down, you realized it didn’t help at all. You were still too hot, feeling like you could crawl out of your skin at any moment. You looked back up at Joel, and he was now pushing the blonde’s hair back, exposing her neck as he placed a kiss against her collarbone. He looked straight at you the entire time he was doing it, his cold gaze burning through you. He was taunting you, showing off just what he could do with another woman.

You could feel the burning tears in the back of your eyes that were screaming to escape. You wanted so badly to break down into a puddle and cry, yell at him for ruining you, scream just how much you hated him in this moment for making you feel this way.

You couldn’t watch anymore. You had to get up and go. You couldn’t hold it together anymore. “I’m sorry, I just need a moment. I’ll be right back,” you said hurriedly to Alexander as you got up out of your seat and walked as fast as you could to the back of the building. You needed to be alone. Just for a few minutes. Until Joel got up and left the table.

You couldn’t look at him anymore. Not tonight anyways. After seeing him with that blonde, you realized just how not over him you were. You still cared way too much, even if what he just did tore you to bits. You had done the same to him though. You wanted to make him jealous, so you did. You got what you deserved. You just didn’t know it’d hurt this much.

You pushed yourself through the crowd, finding it harder to breathe. The music was too loud, the lights were too bright, there were way too many people around. You just wanted to be left alone. Before you could make it through the long, dark hallway up ahead, someone grabbed your wrist and pulled you ahead.

“Hey, stop! You can’t just…” You tried to yank your hand away until you realized just who had grabbed you. You turned to face them and realized it wasn’t just any random person. It was Joel. Oh no.

He pulled you into a large, lavish bathroom and locked the door, standing right in front of it so you couldn’t leave. Who the hell did he think he was?

“Joel, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” you hissed.

“I wanted to talk to you.” His eyebrows were furrowed together, his arms crossed over his chest as his thick arms hugged the plaid material.

“Right now? In the bathroom? No, I don’t think so. Now move so I can leave.” You tried to go around him, but he wouldn’t budge. He just stood in front of the lock, body unmoving.

You tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t move. It’s like you were trying to get through a brick wall. “Joel, I mean it. Get out of my way,” you said with more force.

“No! Not until you talk to me,” he yelled, eyes glaring at you.

You huffed and threw your arms up, backing up. “Fine, whatever. You want to talk, then let’s talk.” You crossed your arms and matched his energy, cocking your hip out to lean on.

“What the hell was that out there?” he asked angrily, his nostrils flaring.

“What was what?”

“You making out with that asshole. He was all over you, practically had his goddamn hands up your skirt,” he spit with rage.

“Oh no, you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to jump down my back when you were all over that blonde slut.”

“Oh, I was not.”

“Bull shit! I saw it with my own eyes!” you screamed, irritated with him already.

“I wasn’t touching her nearly as much as that fucker was touching you.” He was searing at you, eyes blazing fumes. He was jealous as fuck.

“You’re jealous, aren’t you?” you asked in disbelief, eyes growing wider.

“So what if I am? You’re jealous of that blonde girl I was with too. Admit it. You were only trying to make me jealous to prove a point.”

“You arrogant son of a bitch, I was not!”

“So did you come here with him tonight or was he just some cheap shot you found at the bar?”

That was it. You weren’t doing this. You had had enough. “Move,” you demanded, putting your hands into fists at your side.

“No,” he said with finality. “Not until we finish talking.”

“God, you’re so infuriating! Look, if I knew you’d be here tonight I wouldn’t have even come here. The last thing I wanted to see was you all over a dumb bitch who doesn’t even know how to hold a cue stick correctly.”

“And you think I wanted to see you making out with a selfish prick who just wanted to take you home for the night and never call you again after?”

You clenched your jaw after that comment, hands balled at your side, wanting nothing more than to slap him across the face. “Why should you even care? We’re over! I thought the breakup was mutual. Why should you care if I’m trying to move on the best I can?”

“By getting under a man you don’t even know?” His eyebrows were raised, a look of anger taking hold on his features.

You held up your hand, frustration taking its hold over you. “Don’t even say anything because I know you’ve probably already slept with your new blonde toy.”

“So what if I have?! Not like you care.”

That hit you like a ton of bricks, your heart sinking at the thought of those two in bed together. You wanted to be sick, wanted to throw up every ounce of alcohol you took in. You kept it in though, holding on to your dignity.

You walked over and shoved him against the door, taking out your growing frustration on him. Wanting to do it again and again until all the hurt left your body. “Oh, I do care. More than I’d like to admit,” you stammered out, almost losing your footing on the floor.

Joel grabbed your wrist tight, preventing you from backing up. “Let go,” you said with a tight jaw.

“First tell me why exactly you were all over that guy tonight.” He was looking down at you harshly, something shifting in his eyes the more he looked at you.

“I was just having fun. I thought he might be nice and..”

“You’re lying,” he said with a locked jaw, eyes hounding you as he didn’t let up on his grip around you.

“Fine, you win! I was flirting with him to make you jealous because I couldn’t stand to see you with little miss attention!” Your voice was raised, a faint cry getting stuck in your throat. He released you from his grip and let you take a step back.

“I knew it,” he said proudly, slicking his dark hair with grey streaks back. Watching how his fingers slid so easily through it, remembering all the times you got to do that. Wanting nothing more than to be able to run your fingers through that messy hair that you always thought was so sexy.

“Congratu-fucking-lations. Want a prize or something?” you sneered.

“Hey now, don’t be like that.”

“How do you expect me to be, Joel? I haven’t talked to you in weeks. Hell, I’ve been doing the best I can. I had a really shitty week at work, and this was just the icing on the cake! So thank you so much for that, I sincerely hope you’re happy!” you shouted as you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms again.

“No, I’m not happy,” he grimaced, tightening up his fingers one by one.

“Oh, really? Why not?”

“Because I couldn’t fucking stand watching another guy that wasn’t me be with you!”

Oh. You wanted to fall apart at how Joel was looking at you now. He was breathing hard, and you swear you saw tears start to form in his eyes. “Joel, I…”

“I’ve spent weeks trying to get over you. It didn’t matter what I did or who I went out with, none of them were you. I have nightmares all the time. Ones where you’re always wrapped up beside me in bed, and I’ll wake up and you aren’t there. Or ones where some other guy is in your bed, taunting me from across the room. It was all just a dream though. So I did what I had to do to try to forget about you, but nothing worked. So excuse me for trying to get over you with her.” He sounded defeated. A sad lullaby that wanted to be put to sleep.

He relaxed his eyes, sadness closing in on him. Oh, Joel. “That night of the fight, why didn’t you go after me?” you asked quietly, barely able to keep your head up, doing everything in you to keep hold with his eyes.

“I didn’t know you wanted me to…” he said quietly, eyes looking down at the ground as he shoved one of his hands in his pocket, the other one hanging loosely to his side.

“I did. And you never came after me. You didn’t call. I was waiting for you to, but you never did,” you said with a shaky breath, holding back tears.

“I thought you never wanted to speak to me again,” he said with sad eyes, his eyes turning a warm honey color. You wanted to melt into those eyes. Wanted to bleed into them until you couldn’t see anymore.

“No, that’s not true…I…I don’t even remember what we were fighting about now. It was stupid, dumb, whatever it was. And look where it led us. To this exact spot. Making each other crazy with jealousy. All for what? To hurt each other? To get back at one another? Because that’s not what I wanted. That’s never what I wanted,” you said as you brushed a stray tear away, blinking away anymore that were about to fall.

“Hey, it’s okay…” He reached out a hand and wiped another tear away, lingering his fingers on your cheek. You closed your eyes and took in his gentle touch, remembering every single touch he ever gave you.

You took a step back, away from his reach. The warmth from his touch turned into a cold, vacant feeling. Wanting nothing more than to seep back into his warmth. He took a step forward, but you took one more back. “You never gave me the chance to get over you…” you whispered quietly, your voice coming out hoarse.

“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry…” He looked so sincere, sadness dripping off all his features. There was no more anger left. It was only replaced with longing and apologies.

He walked towards you, and you let him this time. He stopped in front of you, pulling back a lock of hair behind your ear. You leaned into his touch, wanting to sink into it.

“I never stopped loving you,” he whispered gently against your ear. And there it was. That one word that you had been waiting to hear again. A hushed lull that could hum you to sleep.

“You…you still love me?” you asked in a daze, confused.

“That’s right. I still love you.”

“Then why didn’t you fucking fight for me? I was waiting for you to chase me out that door, come stop me and tell me not to go. But you didn’t! I was waiting, Joel. I was waiting and you never came for me!” You were broken. Tears spilled downing your face as your vision got blurry.

Joel didn’t waste a second as he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you so tightly that you couldn’t break free. You just cried into his chest as he held you, trying to soothe you as he took a hand and gently slid it up and down your back. Taking away all your pain.

“I love you…” you whispered quietly, enough for him to hear.

“I know, baby. I know. I should’ve never let you go…” With that he kissed the top of your head and held you tighter, not wanting to break apart from you.

You felt a sense of relief. You were back in Joel’s arms. Back to where you really wanted to be. You didn’t want Alexander. You wanted Joel. He was home, and he always would be. You don’t think you could ever stop loving him. Because what the two of you had was something you never felt before. It was beautiful and was something that shouldn’t be broken.

You stayed in his embrace till all your tears dried up, slowly backing up to look up into his beautiful face. His eyes were the color of hazelnut coffee, and he had the most apologetic look on his face.

“Let me make it up to you. I want to show you just how sorry I am,” he said gently, catching the edge of your wrist.

“And how are you going to do that?” you asked, questioning him.

“By showing you exactly how I feel about you…”

Before you could say anything, he crashed his lips against yours. It wasn’t just any kind of a kiss. It was a desperate, starving kiss as he pulled you closer, pressing you up against the wall. You sank into his velvet lips, chasing his whiskey taste you so desperately loved. You opened your mouth, and his tongue shot in, chasing yours as it engulfed you. He tasted so sweet, his whiskey and spice flavor enveloping your throat.

He bit your bottom lip and slowly released it, quickly finding your neck as he sunk his mouth down on the most sensitive spot that rested above your collarbone. You choked out a moan as he grazed his teeth along your neckline, sending a pool of slick against your now drenched panties.

He lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his waist, running a hand against the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to your throbbing center. He dropped down again to your neck, sucking so hard that he’d surely leave a mark. You ran a hand up through his tousled hair, and he groaned as you dug your nails into his scalp.

He brought his face up to your level and rested his forehead against yours, still slowly slithering his fingers up and down your thigh, making you squirm with anticipation. “Gonna make you feel so good, baby. Gonna show them just who you belong to.”

“Tell me who I belong to,” you gasped out.

“Me,” he growled. He slammed his mouth into yours again and brought his hand higher on your thigh, digging into the sides of your scrunched up panties. He lifted your dress above your hips, exposing your drenched center. You bit down on his lip as he teased you, running his fingers lightly over your pulsing core, sending more slick running down.

“Jesus, baby. You’re already so fucking wet for me.”

“Mhmm,” you moaned out as he slipped a hand inside the wet material, sliding through your folds and circling your clit firmly. You felt hot pulsing desire run through your core as he made you wetter from the touch of his calloused fingers.

“Joel…” you moaned out as he placed more pressure on your throbbing clit, wanting more, needing more.

“What’s that, darlin’?” he smirked, a devilish grin ghosting over his lips.

“I need more,” you begged, moving your hips up so you could grind against his sticky fingers.

“More what?” he asked with an edge to his voice, his dark eyes honing into yours.

“I need more of…more…” He slowly pushed two fingers inside you, pressing his palm against your aching clit. “Fuck!” you breathed out, your voice shaky from the friction.

“That’s what I thought.” He smirked as he fell to his knees and pulled down your panties, placing them inside the pocket of his jeans.

“I missed you, baby. Missed your long legs.” He ran a hand up your thigh, sending shivers down your spine. “Missed your smell.” He grabbed one of your legs and put it over his shoulder, running his tongue up your inner thigh and stopping right before he got to your pulsing center.

“Missed your taste…” He took his tongue and ran it all the way up the center of your folds, covering his tongue in your slick. You moaned out in response, and he took it as a reward. “That’s my girl. Now hold on tight. Gonna give you just what you deserve.”

With that he lapped up more slick, quickly finding your clit as he circled and circled you, making your head dizzy from the building heat. He was sucking and pulling your throbbing clit into his mouth, making your legs shake against him.

He slid two fingers inside you and pumped in and out, flicking your clit back and forth with his tongue. You grabbed a hold of his hair hard and pulled his head up higher. His eyes were staring into yours intensely. His coffee colored eyes were now full blown black pits as he was devouring you. It was the hottest most intimate thing you ever saw, making more slick appear between your legs.

“Joel…I’m close…I’m…” you groaned out, bucking your hips higher, needing more of him.

“Want you to come for me, baby. Want you to spill all over my mouth. Want to taste just how sweet you are…” He was pumping his fingers faster inside you, putting more pressure on your clit with his tongue as he ran it up and down, nice and slow.

You were squeezing your leg around him, pulling him closer to you as you could barely take anymore. The pressure was building and building inside your core. So much that you were about to release it all, let it spill all over Joel’s tongue.

“Come for me,” he commanded. He pulled your clit inside his mouth and sucked hard, breaking that seal that was holding in all your pressure. And you were done for. You released your orgasm as a low moan escaped your mouth, coating your inner thighs with hot stickiness.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised as he lapped up all the slick from your throbbing center and thighs, leaving no trace left behind. He placed your leg back on the ground gently and stood up from his knees, placing his hands around your waist to balance you from your intense orgasm.

You took a few seconds to uncloud your mind, come back down from the wave of bliss you’d just been on. You needed more. Wanted more. And you knew what you wanted to do next. You wanted to taste him.

You slowly lowered your hands to his belt, undoing the buckle and feeling his growing bulge through his jeans. He groaned as you traced your hand against his length, wanted so bad to make him feel just as good as he had made you feel.

“I think it’s my turn to taste you now. I want you to remember just how good I can make you feel.” You lowered yourself slowly to the ground, unzipping his pants and shoving them down to his ankles along with his black briefs.

You stared up at the growing erection that was planted firmly against his stomach, precum glistening on his tip. You wrapped your hand around his massive width and slid up and down his long length, squeezing just the slightest. He groaned in response as he stared down at you with dilated pupils. “I want you to know who blows you the best. Not that blonde girl. ME,” you said possessively.

“Fucking feral, darlin’. I love it. Now, show me just how good you can take this cock,” he said greedily.

You smirked up at him as you licked his tip, circling all his sensitive areas. “Fuckkk,” he moaned as you yanked up and down his shaft, licking precum off his tip. You slowly took him in your mouth, taking him in as far as you could go, gagging on his large length. He was big, but you knew just how to take him. Knew exactly how to make him feel good. It was like clockwork, you knew him that well.

You continued sliding your mouth over him, tasting the saltiness coat your tongue. A flavor you revelled in. He grabbed the back of your hair and pulled you forward, driving deeper into your throat until he was touching the very back, gagging and choking on him. A sound you loved hearing because you were driving him wild, sending him over the edge with your throat.

Tears stung your eyes as they ran down your face, drool pooling down your chin as he slammed back into you, mouth fucking you aggressively. “Good girl. That’s a good fucking girl,” he groaned with force in his words, enjoying every second of your mouth on him. Your hands your planted firmly on the back of his thighs, holding on for dear life as you choked on him. The taste of him was intoxicating, something you could get drunk on.

A few more thrusts to your mouth and he was releasing you and pulling your chin up to look at him, taking that long breath that you needed. He wiped the tears from your eyes and cleaned off the drool that was coating the edges of your mouth.

“Look at you, you’re a mess,” he said as he clicked his tongue with a smirk on his face, wiping once more under your eyes.

“I’m a mess for you,” you answered quietly, staring up into honey eyes that were turning darker by the second.

“That’s right. My mess,” he said aggressively. “Now c’mere, I’m not done with you yet.”

He pulled you up from the floor and took you over to the counter, placing your hands on the edge of the sink as he bent you over, facing directly in front of the mirror. He placed his hands over your fingers and put a leg in between yours, pushing your thighs further apart with his foot. You gulped as he kept his foot there, unable to move your legs at all. It was seductive, intimate, and hot as hell.

He leaned over your shoulder and put his mouth right next to your ear, grazing his lips against the sensitive skin. You whimpered when you saw just how he was looking at you in the mirror. The look of lust, desire, pure want, and need in his eyes. You didn’t think you’d ever seen him look so hungry for you. A hunger he’d go feral for until he ate up every single inch of you. Slick pooled at your center at the mere thought of it. Fuck.

He took his tongue and ran it up your neck slowly, stopping every couple of inches to kiss and caress your skin that was aching for his touch. You angled your neck towards him, wanting more. Needing that hunger as much as he did.

“Gonna fuck you now, baby. Gonna show you just who you belong to.” He grabbed your hair and pulled your head up higher so your eyes were staring into the mirror. “Eyes on me. I want you to watch. I want you to moan my name, I want the entire bar to know you’re mine,” he growled. It was possessive, jealous, dominant. And it was erotic as hell.

He slid the tip of his cock over your folds, collecting the slick and making himself thoroughly wet. You whimpered as he slid into you slowly, driving another moan out of you as your walls squeezed around his thick width.

“That’s right, baby. Takin’ me so good. Takin’ me like the good fucking girl you are,” he growled. He slid one hand in front of you and pulled down your dress, exposing your hard, pebbled breasts as he grabbed at them, thumbs digging into you. He then sunk his mouth down on your shoulder and bit. Teeth bared like he was a vampire coming in for the kill. Marking his territory. Claiming you. Making you feel like you were on cloud nine as he rammed into you over and over again. Feeding your aching core, increasing your hot wave of desire that was building inside you.

He was staring seductively at you in the mirror, black pits bleeding into your eyes, making you lose control of how insanely hot you were in the room. The smell of sex was everywhere. Mahogany, whiskey, and dripping bodies filled the air, making you light headed and dizzy.

“Joel…” you moaned as he circled your clit, hearing the wet, sticky sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you, corrupting all form of coherent thoughts you were having.

“Atta girl. Say it again. I wanna hear it. Say that you’re mine. Look at me with that pretty face and repeat it back to me.”

He pressed harder on your clit and pulled your hair tighter, making you gasp at how dominant he was being. Making you want to come undone just by the deep growl in his voice.

You moaned as it was all too much. You were about to shatter yourself all over him. “Joel…I’m yours.”

“Repeat it!” he growled into your ear, staring ravenously back at you in the mirror, his hand digging into your hip.

“I’m yours, I’m all yours!” you screamed out, fighting everything in your body to just hold on a few seconds more.

“That’s my good girl. Now come for me.” He sped up his circles on your throbbing mound and pressed down hard, drawing a line down your entire clit. That did it. You were rolling your eyes back and coming hard for him. You clenched up around him and released yourself on him, coating his cock in wet sticky slick.

“Goddamn, baby. Feels…so…good,” he moaned as he pushed up into you a couple more times, then he was making that sexy orgasmic face as his eyebrows furrowed together and pushed your hips into the counter. He was spilling his seed inside you, saturating your walls and calling your name. Your name sounded like a melodic lull against his deep voice. Entrancing in itself.

He stayed like that for a few more seconds then slowly slid out of you, letting his seed slip down your thighs, coating it all in white. It was warm, messy, and it was him claiming you, all of you.

He turned you around to face him, gently placing one hand around your hip and the other brushing stray locks of hair behind your ear. He slowly leaned down and kissed the top of your head, caressing your cheek with a feather-like touch. It was so gentle that you wanted to fall into him, stay in his arms where it was warm and safe. Where you felt most at home.

He lifted your chin and traced your face with his thumb softly, looking at you like you were a diamond in the rough. It made your insides tingle, a wave of admiration and longing hitting you hard as he stared at you with those warm honey eyes that made you melt.

“I missed you so much…” he whispered as he ghosted his lips over yours. Making you drink in his whiskey breath and mahogany cologne. Your two favorite scents because that was his trademark. Your choice of ecstasy.

“Not as much as I missed you.” You took your hand and ran it through his salt and pepper beard slowly. He seemed to like it cause he groaned and leaned into your touch, looking at you with endearment and tenderness.

A faint smile spread on his lips at your statement. “Alright, let’s get you cleaned up before we go back out there,” he laughed as he adjusted your dress and helped you clean off the sticky mess in between your thighs. He pulled up his jeans and tucked in his shirt, fixing his tousled hair.

You quickly ran a hand through your hair, trying to tame the messy sex hair the best you could. You tried to reach into his pocket for your panties, but he grabbed your wrist and stopped you fast, clicking his tongue at you. “Oh no, you’re not getting these back right now. They’re stayin’ with me,” he smirked with darkening eyes.

“I can’t go back out there with nothing under my dress. What if people see?” you pouted with wide eyes, not wanting to leave the bathroom till you had something on.

“They’re not gonna see cause we’re leaving, now,” he said adamantly, sliding his hand down from your wrist to your hand, entangling his fingers with yours. It felt so good, so warm, so right.

“But what about your date?” you asked hesitantly, lowering your voice.

“Look at me,” he said firmly, grabbing your chin. “I don’t give a fuck about her. We’re leaving, now. You and me. Not her.”

“Where are we going?” you asked with questions in your eyes as he dropped his hand from your chin.

“We’re going home.”

“Home? Are you taking me back home to my place?”

“No, baby. You’re going home with me,” he said gently.

Oh. “You’re taking me back to your place…?” Your voice carried off into the distance, not believing what you just heard.

“Yes, where else would I be taking you?”

“I don’t know. I thought…”

“You’re going home with me, period. I’m not letting you go again. So c’mon, let’s go.”

“Okay.”

As you walked out of the bathroom, a gentle smile spread across your lips. You had done it. You got him back. He still wanted you just as much as you wanted him. It was almost surreal. You thought for sure you would’ve ended the night at Alexander’s house, but you’re glad that wasn’t the case because you would’ve just been sulking over Joel the entire time.

He pulled you through the crowded bar, making space for you to pass as he kept a hold on your hand, pulling you into his chest as he grazed his hand over your hip and pushed you forward. Making sure no one else was able to touch you.

As you passed the bar, you saw Brianna staring wide eyed with an open mouth at the two of you. She looked pissed and she tried calling Joel’s name, but he didn’t even turn his head. He didn’t care about her. He was back with you now. Every ounce of jealousy that you had toward her was gone because he was yours. She didn’t get to have him anymore. You smirked at her, letting her know you had won.

A few more steps and you were passing Alexander. Joel glared daggers at him as you passed him by. He was letting him know that you were his, and he didn’t appreciate when he had been touching you. You mouthed sorry, and all he did was shake his head and take a stiff drink from his cup, looking anywhere but at you. You didn’t care anymore. He was just a placeholder, a vacant spot until you got what you wanted. Joel.

Joel walked you to his white Chevy and opened the door for you, helping you in so you wouldn’t trip over your tall heels. As soon as you got in, he closed the door and went over to the driver side and got in, starting up the hum of the truck as the engine came to life.

You remembered it just like it was yesterday. His soft velvety seats, the smell of cigarettes and wood filling the inside, his favorite bands playing softly against the stereo. He turned up Pearl Jam, and it was just as you remembered. This was what peace felt like. You were content, finally.

As he started driving, he threw an arm over the back of the seat, coaxing you to join him. He looked over at you with those calm brown eyes and nodded his head, wanting you to scoot over by him.

You smiled shyly and slid over to sit beside him, leaning over and resting your head on his shoulder as he placed his arm around you, grazing against your arm with his calloused fingers.

This was what home felt like. He was home. And that’s where you were going. Back to his house, with him. And this time you wouldn’t run out, you wouldn’t let him go. You’d stay forever. Right in his arms. Right where you felt most at home. His. As much as he was yours. Two pieces that fit together perfectly, and that’s where you’d stay. Until the end of time.

[ghostinavenue]

FEARLESS

Summary: You sneak out of your house to go to a party and meet up with Tommy.

Pairings: TommyLee x Fem!Reader

In my head Tommy is the sweetest rockstar on earth, hence this fic. !!

——————————————————————————————

It was a stormy friday night. You were in your room sitting by the window, watching how lightings illuminated the sky before crashing down into a thunder. The tight golden dress you had found in your wardrobe a few minutes ago was still on you while you waited for the storm to cease in order to go out, but that was not happening any time soon.

You had met this guy Tommy a few days ago. He had seen you walking out of college and approached you. “There’s a party at my friend’s house on friday, Vince, you should come over,” He had said, handing you a piece of paper with an address written on it. “Also, my band’s playing, Mötley Crüe, we’re killing it.” He winked at you before walking away with that gorgeous silly smile on his face.

You wanted to go to this party so bad, but your parents would not let you go out if it was raining like that, so you decided to sneak out. Your bedroom was on a second floor so you opened the window and carefully threw some pillows on the ground before jumping out, which made the fall a lot softer. Rain was instantly pouring down on you, and according to the paper Tommy had given you, his friend’s house was a few blocks away, so you decided to run.

After a few minutes of consistently running and stopping to catch your breath every once in a while, you made it to the house. You could hear loud music coming from inside so you peeped through the window. There they were, the famous “Mötley Crüe”. Tommy was playing the drums, his messy black hair was all over his face, and he was wearing a bit of makeup, which made you giggle. You didn’t know the other guys, but you surely did spot the older man playing the guitar, which made you frown, imagining it was maybe this guy Vince’s relative.

Suddenly the music stopped, they were done playing, and Tommy looked up in your direction, staring directly at you. He squinted his eyes as to trying to figure out who you were. You chuckled and waved at him, and this seemed to be enough for him to recognize you because he jumped up from his drum set and made his way to you.

“Y/N!” He closed the door behind him, now you were both standing there in the rain. “Have you seen me play?” He asked, that same cute silly smile forming up on his face. You were about to answer when the music started playing again, this time without the drums. Tommy didn’t seem to care about that, because he stayed with you.

You leaned closer to his ear, tiptoeing because he was much more taller. “You’re great,” You said quite loudly in his ear, pulling back afterwards to give him a smile. Now he moved closer to your ear and said, “You look gorgeous, may I have this dance?”. As he offered his hand to you, you couldn’t help but laugh as he was clearly a little drunk, but you took his hand and you walked him to the driveway.

At this point, you were both soaking wet, your dress was almost glued to your body, and Tommy’s leather pants were glistening under the raindrops, but you didn’t care, because both of you started to goofily dance to the rhythm of the music that came from inside the house. You jumped around and laughed, and the drummer did just the same, mimicking you, which made it all even funnier. You were having a great time.

The rain was starting to stop, and you were running out of breath, so you grabbed the black haired man’s arm and pulled him down to the ground with you, lying down there, facing up to the sky. Neither of you were talking, but Tommy’s hand quietly reached yours, quickly interlocking fingers.

“Is this your first time dancing in the rain with a girl you have just met?” You asked turning your head to the side, looking directly at him. He smiled before replying, “Yeah, I would probably do it again, only with you.” You bit your lip at his response, feeling a bundle of butterflies suddenly flying in your stomach; and without thinking it any further, you placed your hands on Tommy’s cheeks and kissed him, there, on the floor.

The drummer stayed still for a moment before placing one of his hands on your waist and gently pushing himself above you, deepening the kiss. His lips were soft and his tongue explored your mouth tenderly, he knew what he was doing and you were enjoying it. Black strands of hair were tickling your face so you had to pull away from him a few times, giggling, which made him chuckle with you before giving quick pecks to your face and neck.

“I have to go back inside, Nikki’s gonna kill me” He interrupted, standing up and offering you his hand to help you get up as well. “Will you stay and see me play?”. You wanted to stay with him, now and probably for the rest of your life, but you knew you had to be back home. It was getting too late.

“I have to leave now,” You said, your hands resting on his shoulders, “But I promise I will come and see you playing the next time your band is performing”. Tommy seemed disappointed, but he agreed and laid a gentle kiss on your forehead before walking back inside the house, and you could hear all the boys calling him out for disappearing; but you felt as if you had just lived the start to your own fairytale.