#then he added a smile emoji and like said it’s no big deal. then why tf did you send the message

[blkwag]

we need voice notes omg

[mayiwritesomething]

Love Is an Unfamiliar Name (Pt. 4)

Wordcount: 3,4k

A/N: What do you do when the line begins to blur? A bit longer chapter that got quite a cheesy 80s vibe (sorry haha), as the reader finally stops holding her back 🥹

Warnings: a very brief teasing moment but no big deal.

PART THREE

————

…That is Jupiter

After five months of nonstop work, the sound department finally received a much-needed week-long break. Considering your team has been working even during periods without shooting, everything was running smoothly. With the change in location, your strategic planning, and most of all: teamwork, you were all able to take a well-deserved rest. Timmy had joined the set this month to provide assistance, adding to the familiar faces of Jenny and your as you call; new best friend, Pedro. You were pleased to see that Tim and Pedro got along.

Excitement bubbled within you for the upcoming weekend. With Timmy staying over, Amy planned to visit while her mother looked after the kids. Maria couldn't make it, as she was in Paris, living her second love story over the past five months. Despite her absence, you were not mad at her, as this time, you genuinely believed things would work out, especially since her new girlfriend seemed like a good person.

There was one person more excited than you—Jenny, the queen of event organization. In addition to assisting you, she had managed to arrange a Saturday night out, discovering a small pub in a neighboring city hosting an '80s/New Wave night. Jenny ensured that the entire group would attend, including Pedro, who then persuaded May and Lauren to join. What started as a casual night out for four people quickly escalated into an event that overwhelmed you, causing you to abandon checking the group chat upon seeing over ten people confirming their attendance at Jenny's Mad Night.

"Jenny, what the fuck?" You exclaimed, slightly irritated. "I thought we were going for a low-key night out, not this big event shit. Come on, I'm too old for this; I just want... you know... Sit down, sing, drink a little bit, and relax." You sank back into the sofa.

"Come oooon, the 30s are the new 20s," Jenny retorted, still typing away. You noticed she had mentioned you in the group chat and posted a picture of you lounging on the sofa like melted ice cream, with the caption, "Night at the retirement house."

"Stop being so grumpy! Even Pedro, who always finds an excuse to skip our outings, confirmed he is going," she paused, a mischievous smile forming on her lips. "Quite coincidentally, right after I mentioned that you were going too."

Rolling your eyes, you heard the group chat notification sound. Jenny giggled in anticipation. "There she goes," you muttered. Another message popped up, this time from Pedro: “Sounds great, may I join in?”. You blushed and responded with the sleepy emoji.

"Poor guy," Jenny mused to herself before turning back to you. "Why did you do that? Sending a sleepy emoji? You just left the poor guy hanging in a group chat with like ten people."

Another message from Pedro appeared—a broken heart emoji. Panicking, you attempted to explain to Jenny, "No! I meant the sleepy emoji, like I was actually sleeping. You said it was a retirement house, so I thought... 

Another notification chimed, this time from Jenny: "Pedro, there's always space for you. We can kick her out, you're much nicer."

 

One more notification, a private message from Timmy: "Are you kidding me?"

Amy's message then appeared: "What's your problem?”

Suddenly, a message popped up in your girls' group chat. Jenny had sent a screenshot of your response to Pedro, captioned "no mercy for the wicked." Maria's reaction was a simple "OMG," while Amy expressed confusion with an "I wish I could understand."

Feeling foolish, you decided to send him a private message. "Hey, you don't have to ask to join, as my friend, you can always drop by," you wrote. His response was a simple, "Ok, buddy, got it." 

Part of you struggled with the realization that the line of your friendship was starting to blur, and you were hesitant to accept it, fearing it could ruin the amazing relationship you shared. Yet, another part of you felt that shit already went down, and you actually wanted him to be by your side on the same sofa where you now lay. After checking your phone repeatedly, there were no notifications. Five minutes passed with still no word.

"Shit!" you cursed as Jenny retreated to her room, leaving you alone.

 

-

As Saturday night approached, you hadn't seen Pedro yet, but Lauren informed you that he and the girls would meet you at the pub, as you all needed to arrive early to secure the reservations. "He won't go," you thought to yourself. "He's too stubborn not to," you added. Either way, what are you going to do about it? 

Sending a blurry road picture to the group chat with the message "On our way," you actually intended it for Pedro alone, as you both shared a habit of exchanging random daily situation pictures.

“Still waiting for Princess May.” Lauren said.

“We’ll be leaving in 30 minutes.“ Jeff, one of your crew members, sent.

However, there was still no sign of Pedro.

 

You were feeling yourself this night, wearing a black long-sleeve short dress paired with fancy combat boots and a windbreaker. Your hair was left loose, you wanted to feel comfortable singing along to all the Tears for Fears and Depeche Mode songs that would be played. But you couldn’t stop thinking about the fucking sleepy emoji.

Upon arriving at the pub, you, Jenny, and Amy raised your glasses in a toast to your friendship, Maria’s new lover and Amy's rare day off from the chaos of motherhood. Jenny, the beer nerd, was deep in her hops, while Amy preferred the smoothness of gin. Despite not being a regular drinker, you opted for an old-fashioned that you knew wouldn't last long in your hand. Minutes later, the rest of your crew arrived, but Pedro and the girls were still nowhere to be seen, fueling the anxiety coursing through your veins. However, the mood shifted as the cover band kicked off their set with Alice Cooper.

 

Jenny had chosen the perfect spot, where you could blend in without drawing attention. On the other hand, Timmy was stopped twice by fans, but he handled it with ease. The music ignited something within you—a primal urge to scream along with the chorus, the whiskey fueling your veins as you felt Alice was talking to you through the lyrics. Amy joined in, screaming with you:

 

“I wanna love you but I better not touch (don't touch)

I wanna to hold you, but my senses tell me to stop

I wanna to kiss you but I want it too much (too much)

I wanna taste you but your lips are venomous poison “

 

You were headbanging to the music, caught up in the moment, and instinctively hugged Jenny as she joined in.

"I should hug you more often, Jen," you felt the need to say.

"Are you okay?" She asked with a laugh. "You've had like two drinks and turned into a lovey-dovey girl... What's going on?" sensing your disappointment.

"Physically, I'm feeling great. Emotionally... well... it hurts, Jen," you admitted, drawing closer as she struggled to suppress her laugh, knowing you were being sincere. The alcohol had a way of making you more vulnerable. "I can feel he won't show up."

"If he doesn't come, that's his loss. Tonight is about us," she reassured you, pulling you into a comforting hug. "May said they were coming," she observed, studying your expression. "You know, you don't always have to keep up this icy facade. It's okay to show your true feelings. It's better than self-sabotaging. If he does show up, talk to him."

"He ignored me, Jen," you confessed, feeling a bit lightheaded.

"Let's not forget who dumped him in a group chat," she reminded you.

"I didn't mean it that way. I texted him, and he just brushed everything off with an 'huh okay, got it buddy,'" you imitated him. 

"Then talk to him. It's not like you'll lose a limb or something. It could be good for both of you," Jenny suggested.

"You don't know how it feels, Jen," you said, now looking at your hands and gesturing. "One part of me wants to express my feelings, even if I can't understand them, and see where it leads. The other part doesn't want to risk losing what little I have now as being his friend" Tears welled up in your eyes. "It hurts too much, you know, the thought of losing it," you concluded as you took a sip of the remaining whiskey, now watered down with melted ice. "Gosh, I'm so stupid," you chuckled, a nervous laugh escaping your lips.

"You're just scared. We do silly things when we're terrified," Jenny reassured you, pulling you into another hug, her only desire to see you at peace.

Pedro and the girls arrived a few minutes after your heart-to-heart with Jenny. May seemed to need this night out as much as you did, and she wasted no time joining your group. Pedro, on the other hand, greeted everyone, including you, before heading over to the table with your crewmates.

As the night progressed, you and your friends belted out the lyrics to new wave classics, losing yourselves in the music. Determined to be responsible for your actions, you decided to go without any more drinks and opted for regular Coke to boost the sugar in your blood. Jenny's words about it being ”Girls night" echoed in your mind. 

However, you couldn't resist peeking over at the table from time to time. It seemed like Pedro was having a great time without you, and you couldn't help but feel a hint of disappointment. Deciding to take one last look, you noticed "Blue Monday" playing in the background. The universe has a twisted sense of humor.

 

“How does it feel, to treat me like you do?”

 

To your surprise, he was also glancing in your direction. You raised your glass, offering a smile, but his response was a cold raise of his own glass. So fucking stupid.

“Are you happy now?” Amy teased, breaking the tension.

“Well, kind of,” you replied, chuckling as you turned back to your friends.

“Hey! Look, now's your chance,” Jenny urged you on as if she were coaching you for a competition.

“What for?” You were puzzled.

“He just went outside, stupid! Probably for a smoke. Go after him!” Jenny insisted. “I just saw it! Go.” She was more observant than you.

“I don’t want to smoke, didn't even bring anything.” You hesitated, feeling nervous.

“That's not a problem,” Jenny assured you, effortlessly securing a cigarette from a nearby guy. "Now, go!" She handed you the cigarette, taking on the role of a matchmaker. You felt like a teenager.

Despite your initial hesitance, you summoned a false sense of confidence and left the circle of girls to follow him outside. In that moment, you momentarily forgot about his public persona as you sought him out in a quiet corner, where he stood gazing up at the sky. Approaching him slowly, you finally stood by his side and nervously asked, "Got fire?" 

At first, he appeared annoyed, but as he recognized you, a wide smile lit up his face. "Here you go," he offered you the lighter.

"Oh, I don't need it," you declined, gesturing with your hand. "I just wanted an excuse to talk to you, silly," you admitted, mustering up the most confident expression you could manage.

"As my friend, you can always come by," he replied with a chuckle, returning his gaze to the sky. You felt the ironic tone. "The sky here is out of this world,” he said. “You can see every single star."

"And some planets too," you added. "I can see Mars," you said, focused on the night sky. "Jupiter... and Venus, I believe."

"Really?" He seemed genuinely surprised. "Can you show me?" One thing you admired about him was his curiosity for learning from others, a trait you initially misjudged as mere flattery. But over time, you came to realize his genuine interest in people.

"Yes!" Your excitement was visible, as the night sky was your passion. “Excuse me,” you said, moving quite closer and extending your arm by his side. "Look,” you pointed. “Just follow my finger. Do you see that one of those stars seems to be red? That’s Mars, near Sagittarius. And that bright light is Venus," you explained, his attention fixed on you. "Jupiter is a bit trickier, but see that spot right after the moon?" Turning to face him, you noticed his mesmerized expression at you. "Well… uhm… That... that is Jupiter," you concluded, your eyes turning back to the sky.

"Wow," he said, genuinely impressed. "You're like a fucking walking encyclopedia. Is there anything you don't know?"

"Aparently, to make you understand me," you whispered, looking down. "I know I can be messy and mix things up. I understand if you want to... or if you don't..." Your words seemed to falter, as if you had forgotten how to speak coherently.

"No, I'm sorry if I... I mean... that..." he struggled to find the right words, mirroring your own confusion. In your mind, you feared he was trying to gently dump you.

Taking a deep breath to gather your thoughts, you finally spoke. "I like... you know… being your friend. I don't want to ruin it,". Finally, a confession.

"I guess we already have," he replied, looking deeply into your eyes. With a shy smile and a lingering gaze, he added, "I mean... ruin it… It's been a while already." What the hell?

So at this very moment, your heart raced so rapidly that you could feel your face flush. Little did you know, he was experiencing the same feeling, as both of you remained locked in a silent, intense gaze. The desire between you was palpable, yet mingled with apprehension—were you risking it all?

Your body rebelled against your mind's caution, yielding to impulsive impulses. Taking a step forward, you found him still fixed on you, his gaze flickering to your lips briefly, yet he made no move. "Fuck it," you cursed internally as your hand gently landed on his shoulder, met once again with no response.

"Forget it," you murmured, getting closer and closing your eyes as your lips brushed his tenderly. Upon opening your eyes, you saw his were still shut. Sensing his gentle hand on your back, bringing you closer, you felt a smile grace his face. "Forget it," he echoed, cupping your neck and leaning in to reciprocate the kiss. This time, his embrace tightened, and you instinctively wound your arms around his neck, surrendering to the sensations—the touches, the gazes, the escalating intensity of the kiss. Starting leisurely, it soon ignited into a fervent exchange, each moment feeling both like the first and the last, punctuated by shared gasps for air and tender interludes between fervid kisses.

In that transcendent moment, you both lost yourselves in each other, oblivious to your surroundings and the passage of time. What ensued felt far more enduring and profound than a mere shared smoke break.

“Is this a dream?” He said, giggling between kisses, “You have no idea how long I’m expecting this,” his hands playing around your back.

"Pedro, you don’t have to play this ‘I always had a crush on you’ role,” you said, trying to maintain sanity. “I don’t believe a word.” You pretended to be mad, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

"Oh, I forgot you're the cold one,” he said as his hands went a little further down your back, giving you goosebumps. “You almost got me gaving up you know. Lucky for me, I didn’t…” You could feel his heat on your core.

“And I forgot you are aaalways the charmer.” You moved your hips into him, teasing back as he kissed you again.

Lost in the moment, a sparkle of apprehension appeared. “Pedro!” you stopped.

“Whatever you want,” he murmured.

“Let’s keep this between us, right?” You asked aprehensively, “At least for now.”

“As you wish,” he was in ecstasy by the situation, so you were sure he didn’t understand a word.

"Pedro,” you said, stepping back. “I’m real! Just imagine if people find this out while we're still filming; I’ll be the one they'll talk about—It took me a while to be taken seriously, and I don’t wanna mess this up.” 

"Babe,” he said, dragging you back to him. “Why do you rationalize everything?” He kissed your neck as you were melting in his arms. “Could you just enjoy the moment?” You could feel his smile as he whispered to your ear, “Do you want to go somewhere else?”

You turned to face him again. “I don’t rationalize. I just…” You couldn't resist the puppy eyes waiting for your answer, so you kissed him back again, but this time you heard your name. Amy. Fuck.

"Oh my fucking god, Timmy!" she exclaimed, as she and Timmy were frozen in place.

"I told you, baby! I knew it!" Tim seemed as if he had just won the lottery.

"Guys, look..." you began, trying to explain as you adjusted your hair. "This is not what you're thinking. We were just… talking, that's all."

"Babe, they are not blind," Pedro said, looking a bit dazed as his hands rested on your waist. Sensing his touch, you took a step back, away from him. He chuckled.

"Did he just call you babe? No way." Amy was still processing the situation. Tim laughed at your sudden movement.

"We definitely are not blind, and no one takes a 40-minute cigar break kiddo... and I see no cigarettes here," Timmy remarked, taking a sip of his beer.

"40 minutes?" You were taken aback. You glanced at Pedro, who simply shrugged and tried to draw you back into his arms. "Wait," you told him firmly, and although he seemed a bit out of it, he respected your request.

"40 damn minutes since you left, then Timmy suggested that maybe you both were here making out, so we came to check," Amy said with a giggle.

"But relax, guys. This was just between us. We didn't say anything to the others," Tim reassured, his tone serious.

"Damn," you muttered quietly. Pedro's gaze lingered on your body as if he could see right through your clothes. "Hey, look at me!" you demanded, now feeling annoyed.

"Sorry," he turned to face you, smiling, his head spinning.

"Well, guys, if you want to continue your make-out session, you should finish at the hotel," Amy suggested. "It will seem weird if both of you just disappear."

"Yeah, Pedro here waited six months; he won't die waiting a few more hours," Timmy added, patting Pedro's shoulder. They both laughed, and you felt yourself blushing. Wait! How did he knew that?

"You see how mean she can be, man? The day didn’t even got to an end and I already got dropped in a group chat, and now I'll be left here," Pedro teased, looking at you. 

"Here he comes," you said, rolling your eyes. "He needs to provoke me, or his day isn't complete."

"Because I love to see you getting angry," Pedro said, hugging you. "It's soooo easy to get under your skin," he whispered in your ear.

"Get a room, you two," Amy joked, glancing at the door to see if anyone was coming outside. Spotting Jenny and Jeff leaving together, you and Amy received a message in the girls' group chat. "Leaving with Jeff, loved the night, see you tomorrow ;)"

 

Feeling the need to leave, you decided to go back inside as if nothing had happened. The pub was buzzing with excitement as Depeche Mode blared through the speakers. You and Amy rejoined the girls, while Pedro followed Timmy and sat back at the table. You both chose to keep your distance as the night progressed.

As the evening continued, all of you enjoyed the rest of the night at the small pub. The staff eventually approached you, kindly asking you to leave as they needed to close up.

You left with Amy and Timmy as everyone made their way home, including Pedro, May, and Lauren. In the car, you felt your phone vibrating. It was a message from Pedro: "My room or your room? We have unfinished business." Considering the location of your rooms, his seemed like the better option in case there was any noise, as he was on a way better side of the hotel. "Yours. I'll drop by when I arrive. Friend," you replied, holding back the urge to express how much you already missed his touch, choosing to convey it in person instead.

“You don't have to dream it all, just live a day

Don't say a prayer for me now

Save it 'til the morning after”

[birinboom]

🛼 🔪 🍅 🪲 🧩

Ooh, a second ask! Thank you so much! 💖💖💖

🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis

❗🐦🪭🌉😻

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

Oh dear, which one to pick… I’ve researched plant poison, I’ve researched which weapon is better (between a long bow and a crossbow) if the intent is to injure but NOT kill, I’ve researched whether a metal ship stranded in a desert would get colder the further you get into the hull and by how much, I’ve researched how much rust on a gun renders it unusable, I’ve researched male infertility to the point I got ads for fertility centers. Most of my fics don’t call for super outrageous research topics…

🍅 ⇢ give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing

Try to expand your vocabulary, it would add some new flavor. Reading more would help with this.

Vary the length of your sentences, you have a habit of droning on and on (like now!) or making all your sentences the same length.

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

“When pressed about why he didn’t want to marry any of the court ladies, Jing Yuan just laughed, stating with a smile that he had neither the time nor the energy for that kind of courtship. But the emperor saw the slight downturn of the corners of his lips. He saw through the facade of his best and oldest friend.”

Yup I started working on the Apothecary Diaries AU 😶 Guess the emojis above make more sense now…

(Also, this is what took me so long to reply, I needed to actually write those 50 words)

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

Lack of proper tagging. I have some subjects and kinks that are traumatic to me, and I either have to be in the right headspace to read about them or I skip them altogether. Nothing’s worse than reading a fic and out of nowhere getting slapped in the face with a subject I didn’t want to face that day because the author thinks it’s no big deal 😅

If a fic has such poor grammar that it’s practically unreadable. Like lack of any punctuation, or sentences that end up confusing. The last one can happen in a scene where there are two or more characters who use the same pronouns and names aren’t used. If I read ‘he did, he said, he thinks, he laughed, etc. etc.’ it becomes difficult to figure out which he does what. I’m guilty of doing this too, because it’s so obvious to the writer who does what. But as a reader it can become nearly incomprehensible.

When it’s very clear (to me at least) that the writer didn’t research something. I once read the first few paragraphs of a fic (gonna try to make this generic) where the reader went berry picking at a berry farm and proceeded to absolutely mangle the plants. And the owner thought it was cute! Like, oi, that’s your income being broken here! I would’ve felt better about the whole thing if it was a plot point, the reader doesn’t know what they’re doing, farmer comes over to help - and to save his bushes - and romance ensues. And maybe that is where the fic went and I would’ve found out if I continued reading, but… that and a dose of ‘he would not fucking SAY that!’ meant that I stopped reading.

Writer's Truth or Dare Ask Game

[kshira]

𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐥

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: let’s play russian roulette but with feelings

𝐭𝐰: fem!reader, cursing, angst, f!oral, degradation, fwb theme, mentions of smoking, mild fluff

𝐰𝐜: 3.6k

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨 — 𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞

it’s just a white lie.

is what ran has been telling himself since he left his car, too tired to care about the mess left on his front seat, the stains could be washed away easily with a little elbow grease or enough money flashed in front of rindou’s face.

he told you he’s done this before—friends with benefits kind of deal but he’d be a fucking liar but you didn’t have to know that. ran was good at lying—he’d done it his whole life, what made you any different? nothing—that’s what.

“god, you smell like sex and regret” rindou groans from the couch as ran makes his way into their shared apartment, ran walks past his brother for a second before slamming his body on top of him, pulling his arms behind his back while he presses his knee on the curve of his spine. “and you sound like a little bitch” ran smirks listening to rindou curse into the leather, “where were you? we kept a tab going at the bar.”

“i was fucking someone, need details? because i know for sure you probably don’t remember what that is” ran laughs, feeling rindou gradually slip out from his arms and slink on the floor. “i don’t need to fuck someone to feel wanted, that’d be your line of expertise.”

“are we using big words now? rindou, where did you learn to talk like that?” ran muses, reaching out to give his brother a hand pulling him on the couch with him, rindou slides beside ran propping his feet up on the table. “i read instead of chasing after a set of pretty legs, you should try it sometime, it’d be good for you” rindou drags his eyes over ran, paying attention to the purple marks stained on his neck.

“have you ever tried friends with benefits with someone?” ran changes the subject before he can even ask the obvious question, rindou spends a moment thinking before smiling, “so that’s what you were doing.”

“answer the question, i don’t have time for your bullshit��� ran pinches the bridge of his nose, using the other free hand to drag his fingers over his messy hair. “no, i’m not that stupid—you know what happens, someone ends up catching feelings and it goes to shit fast” rindou scowls, ran sighs at the words pulling his phone from his pocket.

a text message was left on standby in his notifications, your name with just a simple emoji added, rindou reaches over to pat his brother on top of his head, “maybe if you’d think with that big brain you have instead of your dick you’d already know the answer.” ran brushes rindou’s hands from his hair, typing a reply out to you, “but hey, you’re the best at jumping straight in, just don’t get too hurt—i don’t want to hear you crying when i’m trying to sleep” rindou grins, meaning well but ran dismisses it.

ran rolls his eyes so hard they almost pop from the sockets, lazily looking at rindou with annoyance pricking at his lips, “if i give you fifty bucks will you clean my car tomorrow?” ran asks, slipping his phone back in his pocket and standing from the couch.

“yeah, sure” rindou nods back, grabbing the remote from the table and mindlessly searching for something to drift him back to sleep. “wait, am i cleaning up where you’ve fucked someone?” rindou looks up at ran that is now trying to hold back a laugh, “obviously rin, that’s why i said fifty.”

“you can get fucked, i’m not cleaning up your semen covered seats for no amount of money” rindou scoffs, finally finding something on tv, he slips into the couch resting his head on his hands. ran flips his brother off as a farewell before heading to his bedroom, checking his phone as ran glides into the bathroom, stripping himself free of his clothes.

it’s just a white lie.

ran keeps telling himself as the scorching water drenches his body, streaming down the worn muscles, washing away the touch of you—ran has been reciting the same phrase well into the months of seeing you, maybe if he keeps saying it—it won’t come true what he’s starting to feel.

“don’t stop please, i need you”

ran liked being wanted, his entire life was always circulated on dependence—it sure as hell didn’t stop when rindou was a grown ass man and it quite frankly didn’t stop when he was making you cum on his tongue.

“what do you need, angel? tell me” ran groans into your cunt, the vibrations sent straight to your core only adding to the pleasure washing through your body. he places a wet kiss on your inner thigh, smearing your juices on the skin as he raises his violet hues through the lands of your stomach narrowing his vision on the valley of your breast and finally reaching your pretty face.

“make me cum, need you so bad” your hips buck, shoving your aching pussy into ran’s face, fingers entangled into his shorter locks to bring ran’s divine tongue right back on your puffy clit. ran smirks through your folds, easily laying his tongue flat across the slit as he sucks on the bundle of nerves until you’re knocking your thighs against his cheeks and that sound—angelic moans slipping past your lips as you finally come undone—literally.

it’s messy—it should be embarrassing how much you cream on his tongue, the scalp burning when you pull ran’s hair tighter in your grasp, you almost want to feel pathetic how fast you’re chasing your orgasm for this man but at the moment—you don’t really give a shit. “shit, you taste so fuckin’ good for me” ran groans, rolling his hips against the bed for some friction of the ache searing in his cock.

you watch as ran crawls from between your legs, face glistening with your slick and that smug look sewed on his lips, “did you miss me?” ran shifts beside you, propping his head on his elbow as he keeps his gaze on your tits.

“not really, you’re not that great, ran” he frowns back, pulling two fingers up to your face, shimmers of your juices still saturate on his digits, “yeah? not even a little bit? your pussy sure does say something different though” your cheeks burn warmth, turning away from ran but he’s quick to grip your chin to face him.

“look at me when i’m talking to you” ran whispers, his face is so close, fingers so much closer to your cunt again and his heartbeat is within inches of your throbbing heart. “you’re always so obedient for me” ran coos, gripping your thighs to hoist you on top of him, in the midst of you getting on top, ran sheds his clothes—another swing of events and you’re sinking down on his cock.

ran digs his fingers into the fat of your hips, slowly rocking you on his cock as you whimper from the length bumping against your cervix. tears cloud your vision while your hips sway—it’s painful, the amount of force ran is fucking into you but something about the way he looks makes it feel somewhat better.

a harsh slap across your bare ass and you’re jolting your eyes back at ran, “pretty girl, what’s wrong? you’re usually moaning like a pathetic whore by now.” it stings where it shouldn’t, ran never degraded you more than you could eat but—it almost feels like a vile pain is tacted to every word he’s spitting out.

“say something” ran clearly adds force to the next smack across your ass and you can’t help but fumble down to his chest, hands resigning on his chest. “fuck ran, that hurt” you mumble, reaching down to rub at the swollen cheek, ran softens pushing your hand away to soothe it over with his own palm, “i’m sorry, i’ve had a bad day, c’mere pretty girl.”

ran opens his arms as he leans up in the bed, gathering your form on his lap he holds you close—ran is still technically inside of you so he uses it to his advantage slowly guiding you down on his cock. it’s different now, arms wrapped around his body for support as ran peppers your cheeks with open mouth kisses, soft sighs leaving his lips when your pussy begins fluttering against his length.

“god, you feel so good” ran moans, it’s something you’ll never get used to—his moan, so heavenly against your ear, so pure to listen to the normal animalistic satire of a man whimpering like a virgin from your pussy alone. “you make me feel good” you reply, struggling to hold back the orgasm rippling at your core, ran barely moves your hips in his lap but it’s sensual—almost like his body is trying to tell you something.

“i love you”

but it’s not ran whispering those words as he fills your cunt with his seed, it’s you—plain and simple, you declare your love to ran haitani during a mind blowing orgasm, smiling sweetly to him but ran is confused, fear growing in his eyes.

“w-why would you say that?” ran really has the audacity to pull away, his face paints a ghost like appearance as you fumble around for your clothes—clearly embarrassed that the words just came right out. “because i thought you liked me, ran” you mumble out, gathering the sheets of his bed covering your naked body.

“i’m sorry if i gave you that impression but i don’t feel the same way. this is just for fun” ran stammers out, quickly dragging his palms over his face, he sighs heavily into his hands and your heart sinks right into your broken chest.

just for fun was for people having fun—this wasn’t fun, it was fucking torture, ran treated this like a game he was hoping to win—but sleeping with someone wasn’t fun, feelings were getting involved and ran couldn’t want that even if he tried.

“it’s better if you leave before i hurt you anymore” ran looks up at you with the most pained expression, he could feel your tears before they even dripped from your clouded eyes, you couldn’t agree more leaving his room without another word shared.

rindou catches you from the corner of his eye trying to jolt to the apartment door, his violet hues the only thing peeking from the couch, “record time my friend, ran must of really went to fuckin’ town” rindou lazily grins, raising his head to look at your dishelved face. “why are you crying?” rindou murmurs, standing up on his knees on the sofa, he watches closely as you struggle to open the door.

“ask your fucking brother” you choke out a sob, slamming the door causing rindou to wince at the earth shattering crash of the wood against the frame, he sits in disbelief for a second before ran is caught gliding through the room—obviously searching for something, rindou catches his gaze before frowning, “what did you do?”

“what did i do? it’s what she did” ran sighs, carding his fingers through his hair before giving rindou his cold stare. “she told me she loved me” ran adds before rindou can interject, mouth open but closes at his words, rindou shrugs his shoulders before crashing back on the couch—rindou has dealt with his brother’s shit for a long time—he really wasn’t in the mood, having more important things to do.

“who’s fault is that?” rindou hums, cursing himself when ran sits on the couch—now he is involved. “you can’t possibly fuck someone and this not happen, dear brother” rindou throws his feet on ran’s lap, folding his hands under his head as he watches ran deadpan back to him. “can you not? i’m having a midlife crisis right now” ran pulls his phone out searching for your name, he has this feeling deep down he should at least apologize—but what good would it do?

ran throws his head back into the couch cushion, looking deep into the speckled ceiling above him—rindou aids in the silence, closing his eyes shut as ran bores holes into the roof if he could.

and this was it, six long months of sex, bodies explored, feelings entangled—now it’s nothing but a deep silence, ran wonders if he should feel this numb within the succumbing headache throbbing across his body.

“he’s not emotionally available right now but you’re more than welcome to sit in my lap” rindou pats his thigh, watching the girl pout before continuing to plop down on ran.

she wraps her arms around his neck, digging her face into ran’s neck, rindou groans lifting himself from the booth and walking away from the private room. “i’m not really in the mood, pretty” ran smiles, holding a hundred dollar bill between his fingers as he slides it between her sheer fabric top.

she pulls herself up from his lap without another word, giving ran the chance to slip from the room and into the exit door, hitting his back against the brick wall as he grabs in his pocket for a lighter. “gimmie one” rindou makes grabby hands towards ran, he rolls his eyes but gives in tossing one to his brother. “can i ever get away from you?” ran sighs, lighting up the cigarette with one swift click.

“have you talked to her?” rindou begins, ignoring ran from questioning why he bums everything from him in his life, “why would i talk to her? it’s done, rin.” rindou can’t help but laugh out loud, holding his chest as he chokes a lung up from his chest, “you need to stop runnin’ away from everything, especially someone like her.”

“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” ran turns to look at his brother, crowding over him as anger fuels in his chest, rindou doesn’t stand down squaring right up with ran, “you like her, i know you do. you’re too fucking old to be playing games, you never fucked someone twice. why keep someone around for that long just to fuck?”

“because i was comfortable with her, pussy was tight and i could always make her cum” ran grins, mostly masking the anger with a faux happiness as rindou cringes from the upfront honesty from his brother. “so you wouldn’t mind if i fucked her then? i could play the little brother coming to aid, help her out by making her cum. oh, then i could cum in her too. then she’d be stuffed with—”

“enough. stop fucking talking” ran growls, throwing the cigeratte on the ground as he grips rindou’s shirt, lifting him up as he raises his hand, “i’m fucking right, you know i am” rindou pokes back, jerking back from his brothers hold, ran scoffs him off before releasing a deep sigh.

“get your shit together, i don’t like playing the older brother. too stressful” rindou grins at ran and he can’t help but laugh back, “you fuckin’ bastard, you did that on purpose” ran smiles at rindou, he shrugs his shoulders back in response, “you don’t know that, wouldn’t mind a little taste of that sweet littl—”

ran glares back at rindou before he can say another word, satisfied with his handy work he goes back into the club while ran pulls his phone out. it’s like a higher power knew of his bothersome sorrows, the sky starting to swell before dark clouds release all the tears ran had bottled up, he finds your number never deleting it from his phone and now ran haitani prays—you’ll even answer him after what he’d left you with.

ran feels like he’s going backwards instead of showing up to your door drowning you in his absent love confession—he’s in his bed, under the covers staring at that boring, stale wall.

ran considers the possibility of leaving it like it is—he doesn’t have to deal with being a boyfriend or caring for another person but that disgusting ache starts to pulse down below the sheets and he remembers one reason why he just loved seeing you.

as bad as ran hates it he’s reaching below the waistline of his sweats, springing his cock free with a heavy smack against his stomach and he looks at how hard he already is. “f-fuck” ran hisses, fisting the length as he rubs his thumb across the slit.

ran starts out slow, fueling his brain with subliminal images of random faces he’d found on porn sites or people at the clubs he’s frequent he found charming—gathering the thoughts till he creates a scenario in his head. another gentle stroke of his hand against his cock and ran is living in this dream.

it doesn’t last long with the unknown faces until you’re the center of his realm, fingers wrapping around his cock that always made him look much bigger in your hands—lips swallowing ran whole as your ass always swayed to the rhythm of sucking him off. ran ignores much of this wet thought is about you as he chases his high, bucking into his hands till spillage leaks across his palms.

and now ran feels pathetic because he couldn’t help thinking about holding you afterwards, kissing every part of your body and ran really can’t help muttering that he liked you as he came so hard his body shivered from the release.

“god i’m so fucked” ran laughs, lazily narrowing his eyes into the ceiling that he seemed to really like lately, bringing his fingers up to trace the speckles of imperfections casted across the grain. and that’s all ran needs to think about was why he liked you—amongst the world of his dirty, disguising life, you always found him so perfect.

his phone is within an arm reach so ran finally takes the plunge, swiping through numbers till he calls your number, chest searing with nervousness as the dial rings and rings, “hello?” you sound worried, your voice shouldn’t be so scared to answer the phone for him but ran has to remember what he’s done, or tries to forget.

“uh, how have you been?” ran clears his throat, cleaning up the mess on his stomach as he listens to silence drape through the phone. “good i guess, what about you?” you whisper, sounding like you’re deep in the covers of your bed, ran hasn’t ever been to your house—he wonders if you steal the covers like you did the night he asked you to stay.

“great, so i’m just gonna be blunt and ask can i see you? i want to talk” ran bites down on his bottom lip, subconsciously chewing on the skin as he waits for your reply but you seem to go silent, the phone call almost dead until you finally laugh, “what does the great ran haitani want to talk about? couldn’t have said anything while you were inside me or when i was crying as i left your house?”

“i deserve this” ran sighs, smirking when another laugh booms through the phone, “you don’t deserve me, whenever something doesn’t go your way you run away, ran. maybe i shouldn’t have told you what i said but i did and i accepted it. that’s the thing about you, you can’t admit fault. and that’s probably why you don’t know how to love.”

you didn’t have to say it—it doesn’t have to hurt like this as the words drift into ran’s ear and he wants to wonder why you hang up afterwards but what the fuck was he to do when you’re spitting the truth straight through the phone. ran drops the device, letting it roll to his side as he sits in that uncomfortable silence he’s started to accept.

ran doesn’t want to let you go, he can’t let you find another person—he has to be yours, so maybe that’s why ran is jerking his sweats back on, slipping a hoodie on over his head and grabbing his keys in his hand. he doesn’t even know where you live but he’ll find out because ran can’t leave it like this again—the pain wouldn’t even suffice for you out of his life.

maybe being one of japan's worst criminals has their perks, as ran easily grabbed your address from an underling, driving through the vacant streets while he recited what he wanted to say. finally pulling up to an apartment complex, bursting out of his car and practically climbing the stairs till he reached your door.

ran holds his knuckles out to the wooden entry, chest bubbling with a gut wrenching pain swallowing his organs whole, he raises his hand slowly knocking against the material, listening to soft pads of your feet.

“what the fuck do you want?” your face is firmly pressed against the crack of the door, dark eyes lingering up and down ran’s figure as he bends down to meet your level, “i want you” he answers, placing a foot between the crack so you can’t slam it in his face.

“you’ve already had me” your voice is drenched in pain, ran can’t help but feel so much agony in the wake of your words reaching across him. “i love you too” ran whispers, reaching out to peel the door frame from your body—taking his entire form to enter your apartment and he cups your cheeks with his hands, thumbing at the skin.

“i want you to be mine, i’m not wasting another second living without you anymore” ran brushes his lips across your own before finally capturing you in a kiss, so deep that the breath stored in your lungs is knocked straight out.

ran haitani loves the convenience of lying to himself, those little white lies seem to pile up through his mellow life but as you kiss him back harder and deeper—ran has to be honest with himself, he very much so has been in love with you from the very start.

taglist — @hallothankmas @chronic-claire-universe @crown5 @hanakohasrandisease @crybabylisa @ranswhoer @himenoakuma @materiaheart @zuuki @sugaslilsugabby

[restapesta]

Piercings. 5+1 ficlet, but with piercings. I have a problem.

1.

Ian thought he knew pretty much everything about his husband. He knew him, inside and fucking out.

How could he not? Ian's pretty much been with him for a better part of his life, and they've had enough late-night talks to share all their demons with each other, however hard it may have been. They knew each other.

There was no doubt about it.

But, well. Ian should have known Mickey kept secrets.

He also should've known that one of those secrets was bound to put him in the grave one day with the inscription on his tombstone saying that he died from horniness.

Because one of these days, he would. There was no doubt about it.

It wasn't the most conventional way to go, but Ian didn't mind it.

Because, holy fuck, Mickey just admitted he used to have his ears pierced.

"Sorry," Ian balked at his husband who was standing in the bathroom, eyeing himself in the mirror, a pair of black studs in his right hand. "Did you just say you had your ears pierced?"

"I probably still do." Mickey grabs an earring and places it against the healed-up hole that is so faint, Ian needed to come impossibly closer to see it. Mickey had pointed it out to him after he initially said he was getting his ears pierced again. Right after Ian was left with his mouth wide open, staring widely at him, not trusting he heard him right. "And if not, I'm just gonna reopen them."

How did Ian never notice it? How did he never see Mickey, the love of his life, with earrings in his ears? With little patched-up spots of skin that were so plainly visible to the eye, now that he really looked at it.

Mickey grimaced as he pressed the needle against the hole, pushing and prodding against the uncooperative entrance. He eyed Ian in the mirror, eyes narrowing. "What are you staring at?"

Ian was stunned speechless. Of course he was. Of fucking course Mickey was about to bust out some crazy thing two years into their marriage that would make Ian finally break. Like having his ears pierced, making every single yet-undiscovered fantasy come to life.

He couldn't help but imagine Mickey with a nose ring, now. Tongue piercing. Eyebrow piercing.

Nipples.

Holy fuck.

Blood was rushing straight to his dick, and goddamn it, this was it. Ian was about to die.

Because holy fuck, the earring went through.

So did the other one.

And now, Ian was staring at Mickey, who was sporting black studs in his ears. Two dark diamonds that were obviously fake but could've not been, because this wasn't Mickey anymore. This wasn't the Mickey who rolled his eyes at anything gay—except getting pounded, obviously.

No—this was Mickey with earrings.

Ian's mouth was dry. It was dry as Mickey turned away from the mirror to face him. He stood in front of him, a determined look on his face as if waiting for Ian to call him out. Him, in all his fucking glory.

"Did you, uh," Ian finally stammered out. "sterilize the needles? I don't want you to get an infection."

"That really all you gotta say?"

Ian swallowed. "How come I never saw you with," He pointed at Mickey's ears, unable to even say the word. "those?"

"I was really young. I got 'em pierced when Mandy did. Took them out fairly soon, 'cus, you know." He shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

Ian knew.

He gripped Mickey by the shoulders pulling him closer. His eyes were on Ian's, but Ian's were on the earrings, and Ian never really knew he had a kink for jewelry.

Well, there was the wedding ring, but fuck, this had nothing to do with their relationship, and yet Ian was still sporting a raging hard-on Mickey had yet to notice.

"I love them." He said truthfully, mentally noting to get Mickey real studs once he got the chance. Not the cheap grocery-store ones, but actual diamonds that he wouldn't mind spending money on. Not when they would look so good on his husband.

Mickey blushed, pushing Ian away immediately, not getting away far, arms practically out so Ian could pull him back in. And he did, squeezing him tightly against his chest, careful not to place too much pressure on the newly-reopened piercings.

Mickey mumbled something against Ian's shirt, incoherent.

"What? I didn't hear you"

"I love you."

Ian smiled. Pulled Mickey away so he could stare into his eyes.

"You know you gotta let me fuck you with those on. Pretty sure it will be the best orgasm of my life."

Mickey only smirked, eyes lighting up immediately at the suggestion. He looks fucking amazing, Ian thought.

"Lead the way, hotshot."

Ian was right. With the earrings and the smugness—

It took him less than a minute.

2.

When Ian saw the photo, he was pretty sure he was going to die.

No, not pretty sure. One-hundred percent sure. Death was awaiting him now, ready to pull him in. He was already feeling faint, ready to just slip away into unconsciousness. He was going to die, for sure.

Or maybe it was just the loss of all the blood that was heading way down south that was making him feel this way, because holy shit.

Holy shit.

When Mickey took the earrings out after a few days of usage, claiming how they sucked, Ian thought that was it. Mickey was never going to do anything that reminded him of being gay ever again. He had probably been embarrassed and wanted to take them out, and Ian was feeling at such loss when he saw his ears vacant that he was ready to throw hands.

But, oh God.

Ian was now staring at a picture of Mickey—a picture he posted on goddamn Instagram for everybody to see—and it was him.

Him with a fucking nose piercing.

Ian checked the comments first. It would've probably been saner to call his husband and ask if he actually got a nose piercing and if he was ready to be a widow because Ian won't be lasting much longer, but there were a bunch of comments on the photo, and fuck if Ian wasn't going to leaf through them all. This could be a joke for all he knew.

Some sick joke to get Ian's hopes up, just to get them crushed down until he never had any hopes in life ever again.

Mickey with a nose piercing. Mickey with a nose piercing.

Carl said it looked 'fuckin' sick'. Lip was putting 😲 emojis all throughout the chat, sometimes even adding the 😏 one, probably a reference to Ian (at least Ian hoped it was). The other comments were just about how good Mickey look, which was really no surprise, but holy shit, did that mean this was real?

Mickey was out running some errand. Said he had some shit he needed to. That sneaky bastard. Ian didn't care if he was in the middle of the goddamn line at the Costco aisle or in the middle of a drug run.

He facetimed him.

When Mickey's face came into view, the nose ring present and very much real, Ian was lost for words. Mickey was biting his lip to keep from smiling and once he noticed Ian was just going to continue and stare, he scoffed.

"Man, it's just a piercing."

"No," Ian said. "This is much more than 'just a piercing'."

Mickey chuckled. "Well, I figured since I didn't really like the earrings, I could do this. It felt right."

This was the Mickey Ian knew and loved. The Mickey who wanted to try new things, get to know his own style. Mickey, who was finally confident enough in himself, and hopefully comfortable in their marriage, that he didn't even consider this a big deal. Ian was filled to the brim with emotions, and he was ready to explode.

"You need to come home now."

They met each other's eyes through the screen, blue glimmering in mischief. Mickey smiled. "Why?"

"Because."

"This piercing shit really gets you going, huh, Gallagher?"

It did.

It really did.

"If you're not home in ten minutes, I'll get the whip. So better be fucking home." With that he hung up, getting up to ready the supplies.

Mickey was home in eleven.

Ian knew it was fucking intentional.

3.

Ian might've been getting used to the fucking hotness that Mickey Milkovich with a nostril piercing was, but that didn't mean others were.

In the end, it probably didn't even matter that Ian was one million percent down for any types of piercings Mickey wants to get—he might have even been pushing him for a nipple piercing, but the why of it was for another time—what would eventually decide whether or not the earring stayed in was the reactions of somebody other than Ian.

It was unfair, really, that others would be able to affect Mickey's decision to finally do whatever the fuck he wanted to do, despite his ever-growing confidence. Still, Ian had a way of making sure that nobody made him feel shitty for doing something he wanted to do. Something for himself, without fearing the judgment of others like he had his entire life.

He was an arsonist, for fuck's sake. Let them try and eye his husband the wrong way.

Ian perhaps expected it from old, batty women at the grocery store who didn't have a clue what century they were in or Karens who were homophobic pieces of shit—but he never would be guessed it would be his own family poking fun at something that probably took guts to do. Because it took guts to actually get something like a nose piercing if you were a Milkovich with a past of growing up in a homophobic household.

"So, uh, you gone full gay now, Mickey?"

"Watch out, Ian, I think he might out-twink you."

"You look like Sandy now. Don't be surprised if I jump you."

"I think you look cool, Mickey."

"Uncle Mickey, what's that in your nose? Can I have one?"

Mickey didn't seem to really care about the Gallaghers' opinions. It was mostly just him flipping Lip off at the twink comment and winking at Franny for that last one. Ian, on the other hand.

Ian was the one who was getting fucking offended.

What if Mickey decided that all the teasing and sideways glances aren't worth it and he takes the nose ring out? What if Ian's deprived of sexy, liberated Mickey because of assholes like his own siblings?

It didn't matter how selfish it sounded. There was no way in hell Mickey was ever going to feel conflicted over something he didn't need to feel conflicted about.

So, the second Mickey was out of the room, and the Gallaghers were still unrelenting at the teasing, Ian knew what he had to do.

"Okay, that's enough," He said simply after the eight-hundredth joke about how the ring looked like a booger in his nose—what the actual fuck, Lip?—his voice stern.

"Come on," Lip said, despite the others clearly relenting, palms going up with sheepish expressions on their faces. "We're just joking."

"Well, enough jokes. You could be more like Liam. Tell him he looks good."

Lip snorted. "And why would I do that?"

"Because I asked you to?"

"He knows it's all jokes. He doesn't even care."

"I do." Ian narrowed his eyes. "I care whether or not he feels like he's done the wrong thing because you won't shut the fuck up after the joke's not even funny anymore."

That was what made the smile on Lip's face thin. He lowered his head sightly, as of bowing it down in shame. Ian knew he had finally caught on. Finally understood that, sometimes, even jokes could hurt people's fucking feelings.

Maybe Mickey wasn't at all touched by this. Maybe he really didn't give a shit about what Lip or some old-ass grandma at the store thought. Maybe it was only Ian who gave a shit.

But fuck it, he could give enough shit for the both of them.

If it meant Mickey would always feel comfortable in his own skin, then fuck yes he could.

"Okay," Lip said simply, and Ian smiled at him, thankful.

And when Mickey reappeared with a slight frown on his face and a, "what, no more jokes?" followed by a wide smile, Ian knew he had done the right thing.

Because Mickey looked good.

And the ring stayed on.

4.

"What is it with you and the goddamn nipple rings?"

Ian bit at his lip. Okay, he may have gone a little overboard. With all the research and the reference photos and all the places you could get one... But fuck, he had a fantasy, and he needed to see it come true.

Mickey with nipple rings.

Mickey with nipple rings.

Come the fuck on.

"Babe, listen," Ian started, moving so he was positioned against the headboard of their bed. It was almost midnight—what better time to lay it down on Mickey that he would look really fucking good with piercings in his nipples and that it would be Ian's dream come true. "They'd look so good."

"Then why don't you get them?"

Ian made an incredulous face. "Because they wouldn't look good on me. They would look good on you."

Mickey swiped at his nose, diverting Ian's attention once more to the perfection that was his black nose ring. How could Ian not see all the possibilities with multiple piercings when Mickey looked like that with just one?

"Come on," He said again, the image in his head even more vivid than before. "I googled it. It doesn't even hurt that much."

"I have a feeling like that is a very obvious lie."

Ian rolled his eyes. Okay, maybe it was.

He pushed himself back down onto the comforter, shifting so he could have access to Mickey's chest. He trailed a finger from his neck, then slowly down so it rest in between his nipples, laying out his palm so it could feel the beating of Mickey's heart.

"Imagine the sex," He whispered, trying out a new technique. Seduction. It had to work.

"Probably not until it's healed up and stops hurting," Mickey scoffed. "Also, I really don't think I'd like it. I'd look like a bull."

"You'd look like a very sexy bull. Oh, by the way, septum piercing." Ian wiggled his eyebrows. "Don't you see it? Don't you think it'd look awesome?"

Mickey looked like he was on the verge of either laughing or punching Ian straight in the dick. "I think," He began. "that I've created a monster."

"A monster who is extremely horny for your ass."

"Why do you have to have a kink for this? Ian, out of all the things. Just look up porn with a bunch of jewelry on the guys if you need to get off."

Ian frowned at the imagery. "It's not the jewelry, Mick. I've had hookups who wore a shit-ton of jewelry and it never made me all hot and bothered."

Mickey smiled at the hot and bothered part. "Dork. Then what is it?"

"Well, fucking obviously it's you."

Mickey's face lit up. "It's me?"

"Ugh, Mickey, we've been together for a while. Don't make me feel shy over this."

The exasperation made Ian's cheeks pink. Suddenly, Mickey was leaning in and pressing his lips to the heat, smiling all the way through it.

When he pulled away, there was a wide grin stretched across his face. Ian was a sucker for that grin. That grin was everything he needed in life. Nothing more.

"I won't get a nipple piercing."

Sadness. All Ian felt was sadness.

"But maybe we can check out other options." It was Mickey's turn to wiggle his eyebrows. "Tongue piercing float your boat too?"

Happiness. All Ian felt was happiness.

5.

Eyebrow piercing. It ended up being an eyebrow piercing.

And God. Ian was done. He was completely done with everything. This was it. This was all he ever needed to see in life. Now, he could die peacefully.

He was married to the hottest man alive. Ian could pride himself in that fact. Mickey truly was the hottest person Ian had ever laid eyes on.

Especially now that he had a nose and eyebrow piercing at the same fucking time.

Ian knew there would never be another man to get his attention again. Never anybody else to make Ian feel like he need to avert his gaze. Not when all eyes went to the Mickey with the hot body, amazing ass, great face, and perfect piercings.

"Maybe you should get some piercings, too," Mickey said as they sat together at the table, munching on cereal. "I mean, if you act this way over my shit, who knows how I'll act over yours."

Ian smiled. "I can't pull anything off like you can."

"Bullshit. You're hot as fuck."

Ian's cheeks pinked. "Shut up."

"No seriously," Mickey said as he got up to get more coffee. "Hottest guy I know."

Ian licked his lips, slowly running his eyes down his husband's body. "Well then, guess we both got lucky."

Mickey smiled and the piercings come into view again.

Ian really was a complete goner.

+ 1

"No," Mickey said once he saw Ian come into view. "No. No. No."

Ian grinned widely, tilting his chin slightly so he could showcase the tiny diamond—actual diamond—studs in his ears. "You like it?"

Mickey knew then that this was what heaven felt like.

He barely stopped himself from tackling Ian onto the floor.

Oh, who the fuck is he kidding.

He didn't stop shit.

[multi-fandom-imagines-stuff]

Smaller Than This

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff/daughter!reader, Peter Parker/platonic!reader, Wanda Maximoff/reader

Description: The reader is Natasha Romanoff’s daughter, best friend of Peter Parker, and girlfriend of Wanda Maximoff. Growing up in the spotlight is hard enough, but things cross a line when people start commenting on the reader’s weight.

Warnings: eating disorder, swearing, threats of violence

Word count: 3,282

A/N: I know it’s not easy to deal with eating disorders, but please know that you are beautiful and amazing and you don’t deserve to have to suffer through that. Please, if you are struggling with this, reach out for help. <3

✩❀✩❀✩

Black Widow’s daughter spotted in Central Park with new best friend Scarlet Witch and Stark Industry intern Peter Parker! Could Parker be y/n’s new boyfriend?

You laughed and rolled your eyes as you clicked on the tweet. Stalking paparazzi twitter accounts had to be one of your favorite pastimes, simply because the so-called facts they were giving out were false 99% of the time. For instance, this situation? You had gone out for a picnic with Peter and Wanda when those photos were taken, and the paparazzi completely twisted things. Peter wasn’t your boyfriend, he was just your best friend. And Wanda wasn’t your best friend, she was your girlfriend. You chose to ignore the false headline as you went immediately for the replies.

‘Do you see the way y/n’s looking at Wanda? It seems more like there’s something going on between them than there is between y/n and Peter’

You smiled and liked that tweet. You liked messing with people just a bit. Whenever someone would tweet about there possibly being a relationship between you and Wanda, you liked the tweet. It wasn’t enough information to actually confirm the relationship as true, but it was enough to keep people speculating.

You scrolled through several more replies. Most of them were people using the heart eyes emoji or saying how much they loved your mom, but there were a few in there that stuck out more than the rest. That was because they were harsh and hurtful.

‘I don’t understand how someone can live with the Avengers and still look like that. Does she ever even exercise?’

‘She could stand to lose some weight. Instead of going out for a picnic, she should try to skip a few meals’

You read through replies for a few more minutes. Similar comments would pop up now and then, and while there wasn’t an overwhelming amount, there was still enough to make you close down the app and shut off your phone, averting all your attention toward not crying. 

“Miss y/n, dinner has been called,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice rang through your room.

Pushing the thoughts to the back of your mind, you got off your bed and made your way to the dining room. There, Peter and Wanda were setting the table while Steve and Bucky carried out the food.

You walked up behind your girlfriend and wrapped your arms around her waist, resting your chin on her shoulder. You felt her jump slightly before she realized it was you and relaxed into your touch. You placed a kiss on her cheek.

“I love you,” You whispered in her ear.

“Hey! What did we talk about?” Tony directed at you, raising an eyebrow at you and causing you to roll your eyes.

“No lovey-dovey shit at the dinner table,” You mumbled.

“Language!” Steve scolded you as Clint joined the conversation.

“Oh, come on, Tony,” He said. “It’s young love. It’s harmless and adorable.”

“It makes me want to hurl,” Tony retorted.

To onlookers, it may have sounded like Tony was being a real dick, but you knew he was just teasing you. He’d never admit it, but secretly he loved how happy you and Wanda made each other.

“Watch it, Stark,” Your mom shot him a glare. “That’s my kid you’re talking about.”

Your head whipped up at your mom’s voice. She had been on a mission for the past week and wasn’t supposed to get home for another three days.

“Mom!” You yelled as you ran toward her, wrapping your arms around her as you squeezed her tight.

“Hey, kiddo! I’ve missed you!” She said, hugging you back and kissing you lightly on the forehead.

“I’ve missed you, too!”

“As much as I hate to break up this reunion,” Bucky said, causing you to pull away from your mom. “Steve and I slaved over dinner and it’s getting cold, so let’s eat.”

You took your seat at the table—in between Peter and Wanda—and filled your plate with the spaghetti and garlic bread Steve and Bucky made. Everyone was silent as you all dug into your food and, you had to admit, it tasted amazing. 

When Steve and Bucky first moved in, neither of them were allowed near a stove without supervision. They had started too many accidental fires. But after lots and lots of practice, the two of them easily became the best cooks in the tower.

After dinner, you excused yourself to your room. Your phone was still lying face down on the bed, so you grabbed it and opened it up. Right away, you noticed several notifications from twitter. Upon further investigation, you found that the rude comments people were saying about you had extended to your messages. Now, you had complete strangers messaging you about how you needed to ‘lose weight’, or ‘eat less’, or ‘exercise more’. A few of the messages even called you a ‘disappointment to the Avengers’.

You deactivated your account and deleted the app from your phone, but the damage was already done and you knew it. So you came up with a plan and decided to set it into motion the next morning.

✩❀✩❀✩

You woke up in the morning to your alarm blaring. Checking the time, you saw it was 4:30, and you wondered why your alarm was going off so early before you remembered the plan you had made the night before.

You got out of bed and quickly dressed in athletic attire before running out of your room. You knew Steve liked to run in the mornings, so you sat in the kitchen waiting for him.

When he finally sauntered in at 5:00, he was more than surprised to see you sitting there.

“Y/n?” He asked. “What’re you doing up so early?”

“Can I run with you today, Uncle Steve?” You asked him, a pleading look on your face that you knew he couldn’t say no to.

“Yeah, sure,” He said. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be sleeping?”

You nodded. 

“I want to start running. My mile time in P.E. class has been slacking lately and I don’t want to fail the class.”

You were surprised yet proud of how quickly you were able to come up with that lie, and you were happy to see that Steve believed every word of it.

So that’s how you spent your morning: running laps with Steve.

The two of you finally called it quits around 6:15 and parted ways. Steve went off to do whatever he did during the days, and you went off to squeeze in a quick shower before school.

By the time you were done with your shower, it was nearly 7:00, which meant you had to rush to get dressed. You finally made it to the kitchen, where Wanda was already waiting for you. The two of you yelled a quick ‘bye’ to whoever was listening before you started the quick walk to the bus stop.

You felt Wanda’s hand interlock with yours and a smile arose on your face as you squeezed her hand. You two didn’t want to publicly disclose your relationship yet, so you knew the minute you reached the bus stop you’d have to let go.

✩❀✩❀✩

At lunch, you sat at a table with Wanda, Peter, MJ, and Ned. You skipped the food line and instead opted to sip at a bottle of water.

“What’s wrong, y/n?” Peter asked you.

“What do you mean?” You shot back, not quite sure what he was getting at.

“You’re not eating.”

Shit. You had to think of a lie, and you had to be extra careful since your girlfriend could read minds. She promised you she’d never read your mind without your consent, but you were still wary.

“Uh...I’m just not feeling well,” You said. “My stomach is feeling a little flip-floppy and I don’t want to push it.”

To your luck, they nodded it off and changed the topic, not questioning you again for the rest of the day.

That night at dinner, you pushed the food around on your plate, eating a few bites here and there. It wasn’t hard to pretend you had eaten, especially since your family was so big. Everyone seemed to be so caught up in conversations with other people that they didn’t notice when you got up and scraped your food into the trash.

✩❀✩❀✩

These habits carried on for a few more weeks. You’d wake up every morning to run with Steve, make up some excuse for why you didn’t eat lunch, and you’d have a few bites of dinner before sneakily trashing it. On most weekends, you chose to spend your time training with your mom. You claimed it was so that you could stay sharp with your self-defense skills, and while that wasn’t necessarily a lie, it wasn’t the full truth, either. But your mom never questioned it, and you were glad.

You seemed to fly under the radar, until one Sunday afternoon.

You walked into your room after training with your mom to find Peter and Wanda waiting for you.

“Hey, guys,” You greeted, throwing yourself into a chair and downing half a bottle of water. “What’s up?” 

“We know,” Wanda said, a stern yet concerned look on her face.

“Know what?” You asked her, although you could feel your heart rate rising. You knew what she was talking about.

“That you haven’t been eating,” Peter joined in.

“What’re you talking about? Of course I’ve been eating.”

That was a lie. Your stomach hadn’t been properly filled in weeks and you couldn’t remember the last time it wasn’t rumbling. But that wasn’t important. What was important was the fact that you were finally losing weight. There’s no way you could stop now.

“Cut the crap, y/n,” Peter said, catching you by surprise. “We’ve been watching you. I can’t even remember the last time you bought a school lunch.”

“And you pick at your food at dinner every night,” Wanda added. “I haven’t seen you eat more than three bites. You think no one notices, but you’re wrong. And I can feel you, love. You feel...empty.”

Wanda rested her hand on your knee as you tried to process what was happening. You had been so good at hiding this, how had they found out?

“You guys, I’m—” You started before Peter cut you off.

“Don’t say you’re fine, because you’re not. We know it, and you know it, so please stop lying to us, y/n. We just want to help.”

“I have it under control, I don’t need help,” You protested. “Just...please don’t tell my mom.”

“Y/n—”

“Wanda, please,” You begged. “My mom has enough to worry about as it is. I don’t need to add this to her stress as well. I promise, I have it under control. I’m alright.”

Wanda and Peter shared a look before turning back to you. 

“We’ll keep this between us for now,” Peter said, and you felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders.

“But, if things get any worse, we won’t hesitate to bring your mom into this,” Wanda warned.

You nodded and the two of them left, Wanda kissing you quickly before walking out of the room. 

‘I just need to hide it better’ you thought to yourself. ‘This is all my fault for being too obvious about things. I need to do better.’

Wanda and Peter had dropped the topic for the time being, until a week later, things took a turn for the worse when your P.E. teacher announced that your class was running the mile that day.

Thanks to training with Steve, your mile time had improved and you were one of the fastest in the class. However, due to malnutrition, any sort of exercise made you extremely lightheaded. 

You ignored the part of your brain that was telling you to make up some excuse to sit out. You convinced yourself you just weren’t drinking enough water so you drank an entire water bottle and went to class.

You were about halfway done with your mile when the corners of your vision turned black. You blinked a few times, trying to edge it away, but it was no use. By now, you heard a loud ringing in your ears and the world started spinning around you. You slowed down a bit, trying to regain your composure when you felt your knees buckle underneath you, and you were plunged into a world of darkness, not feeling it when you hit the ground.

✩❀✩❀✩

When you awoke, you were still laying on the field, your entire class swarming around you. You were trying to sit up when you felt something attached to your hand. 

You looked to the right and saw Wanda sitting there, looking scared as hell.

“Miss Maximoff, Mr. Parker, please escort Miss Romanoff to the nurse’s office,” Your teacher ordered.

You felt Wanda help lift you to a standing position and once you were up, you felt the world start spinning again. You shut your eyes tight as two arms, you assumed they belonged to Wanda and Peter, wrapped around either side of your waist. Soon enough, the dizziness ceased and you opened your eyes, signaling for Peter and Wanda to start walking with you.

You made it to the nurse’s station where you saw your mom already waiting.

“Mom?” You asked, wondering how she had gotten to your school so quickly.

“Peter called me the second he saw you fall,” She explained.

You, Wanda, and Peter were dismissed from school early, and your mom led you all back to her car. You sat in the passenger seat while Peter and Wanda sat in the back.

“What happened?” Your mom demanded.

The tone of her voice scared you a little bit, but you knew it was filled more with concern than it was with anger.

“I must’ve just gotten overheated or something,” You lied, knowing exactly why you passed out. “I was doing fine one second, and then the next I was on the ground.”

“That’s not true, Ms. Romanoff,” Peter interjected.

You whipped your head around to him and shook your head, silently pleading him to not tell her.

“What do you mean?” She asked. “Do you know something I don’t?”

“Peter, stop,” You said, panicking at what was about to be said.

“Y/n hasn’t eaten a proper meal in a month,” Wanda admitted.

You shot your girlfriend a look of betrayal before turning back around to face forward.

“You, what?!” Your mom blared. “Y/n, is this true?”

Your silence was enough of an answer for her to understand that yes, it was true.

“Y/n, baby, why?” Your mom said.

You could tell she was trying to be strong, but her voice was cracking.

“Because I’m not like you guys, okay?!” You finally snapped, letting loose all of your pent-up emotions. “I don’t have a super-human metabolism like Peter, and I don’t have a perfectly in-shape body. I’m not an avenger and it sure as hell shows. Even people I don’t even know were making comments about it on twitter.”

“Is that why you disabled your account?” Peter asked, realization hitting him.

You nodded and looked down at your fingers, not wanting to make eye contact with any of them.

By now, you had reached the tower and your mom put the car into park, turning to face you.

“Y/n, I know it’s been hard for you to grow up in the spotlight, constantly being compared to us but this isn’t healthy,” She said, cupping your chin and lightly pulling your head up to meet her gaze. “If I had known all of this, I never would have let you do all those extra training sessions with me. It’s not safe for you to keep exercising like this when you’re not giving your body proper nourishment.”

“I can’t—” You sniffed. “I can’t stop. I need help.”

You felt a tear roll down your cheek as your mom brushed it away, pulling you in for a hug before the four of you got out of the car.

Once inside, your mom told you to sit down in the living room while she left for a few minutes. When she returned, she had the rest of the team with her and you could only assume she had given them the run-down on your situation. 

You were slightly hurt that she had shared your personal life like that, but you knew it was for the best.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Your mom said once everyone was settled. “Y/n, you’re going to help with dinner every night. I know it can be hard once you’ve developed a food phobia, but when you’re in control of what we eat every night it makes things a little easier. No more throwing your food in the trash, okay? As for school, I’ll be making you a homemade lunch each day, and Peter and Wanda will be keeping an eye on you and will be reporting back to me. First thing tomorrow, I’ll call and set you up an appointment with a therapist. Bottling up your emotions will only make things worse, trust me. You need to talk to someone, and a therapist will help to give you healthier coping mechanisms.”

You listened as your mom laid out these new rules before telling you to go lie down. As you got up to leave, you were bombarded with your family hugging you and telling you they were there for you. You honestly had never felt more loved and supported in your life.

You finally made your way to your room, lying down in bed. A few minutes later, you heard a knock at your door.

“Come in,” You said weakly.

The handle turned and Wanda walked in, using her powers to levitate a tray behind her. You sat up and she put the tray down in your lap. On the tray, you saw there was a plate of cheese and crackers.

You looked down at the tray before looking up at your girlfriend. You forced yourself to pick up one of the crackers and take a bite, your mind screaming at you the entire time. But you were sick. You knew this. You wanted to get better.

“I’m sorry for telling your mother,” Wanda spoke. “You were slowly killing yourself and I couldn’t stand by and watch it happen. I’m so sorry, y/n. Can you forgive me?”

“I don’t blame you, Wan,” You told her. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I never should have forced you and Peter to keep this a secret.”

Wanda wrapped you into her arms, squeezing tightly. The two of you stayed like that for a long time before you pulled away and, bite by bite, finished the snack she had brought you.

✩❀✩❀✩

You had been in recovery for about a month now, and while things were far from easy, you knew you could do it. Your family was your support system and they were right there by your side every step of the way.

You were sitting on the couch with Peter and Wanda, you and your girlfriend tangled in each other’s arms as you watched your mom on tv. She was finishing up a press conference.

“Oh, and one last thing before I go,” She spoke toward the camera and the audience. “Whoever decided to make awful comments about my daughter online, I am a trained assassin and I will find you.”

[hookingminor]

4 times his friends posted you on their instagram + 1 time he did - mat barzal

a/n: I wrote this literally back in july so lets just ignore how idealistic this is regarding quarantine but im a slut for some barzy this is all fluff

word count: 4,733

summary: like the title says, some friends (with benefits?) to lovers + a tyson cameo, fluffy summer quarantine fic

tagging @davidpastrsnack​ so kate can get on the barzy train

-

1.

To say the whole quarantine thing was an inconvenience was an understatement. School had ended online, your summer internship was cancelled, and it seemed like your summer would turn into an uneventful couple of months stuck in your apartment in, probably, the worst place to be stuck in during a pandemic: New York City.

Or so you thought.

You’d planned on having the most boring summer ever until your friend, Mat, had invited you to hole up away with him and a few friends in a lake house back in Vancouver. Well, friend was a loose term. The two of you were friends… just ones that kissed occasionally… and sometimes more than kissed. You’d met him about a year ago at a bar while he was out with his teammates after a game. A cliche meeting, but you hit it off instantly. Instead of ending up in his bed at the end of the night (which you would eventually end up at after a couple months), it turned into an exchange of numbers and an invitation to hang out later in the week.

You hadn’t thought anything of it at first, just thinking he was being friendly and wanting to end the conversation, so you were surprised to get a text the next day from an unknown number asking if you’d wanted to go on a bike ride.

Flashforward a year later and the two of you still went on bike rides together. At least, up until the pandemic started.

When the text came telling you to pack your bags for a month or so, you thought he was joking. Surely he couldn’t have meant you to join him in Vancouver over the summer? You were proven wrong when he showed up at your apartment the next day, two coffees in his hand.

“Uh, hi, Mathew,” you said hesitantly, opening your door to reveal your disheveled state, having just woken up.

“Why are you dressed like that? We have a plane to catch in four hours,” he said, pushing himself through your door, uninvited, to set the coffees on the counter.

“What are you doing here? What plane? You’re not supposed to be going out,” you reprimanded him for showing up unannounced and in the middle of quarantine.

“I told you we’re going to Vancouver, I know you read my text. Now let’s hurry up and pack, we gotta get going,” Mat rushed, already on the way to your bedroom.

You followed him after a brief moment once you’d processed what was going on. Mat had already pulled out your suitcase and set it on top of your bed by the time you entered the door. He was in the middle of rifling through your drawers and grabbing random garments to throw into the suitcase when you’d spoken again.

“You’re actually serious about this?”

“Of course I am. What better things do you have to do in a city on lockdown for an entire summer? Honestly, I’m doing you a favor,” he explained easily, turning back to grab more items.

“Oh, you’re doing me a favor? Thank you, Mat, for saving me from a summer of suffering. It’s not like I had other plans to find different internships or focus on my summer classes,” you replied sarcastically.

Mat rolled his eyes. “I am doing you a favor, and you’re doing me a favor by going. I need a hot piece of ass to get me through this, or I will lose my mind.” You slugged him on the shoulder in offense, but all he did was chuckle.

“And anyways, you can still do your classes in Vancouver. Instead of doing them locked in this apartment, you can do them lounged out under the Canadian sun. Preferably in a bikini,” he finished. You slugged his arm again, harder this time.

“In fact, you should take the red bikini, it makes your tits look amazing,” he said, noticing you shuffling through your swimsuits. You rolled your eyes at him but grabbed the red one anyway along with a couple others.

With both of you folding and packing, your bags were ready to go in record time.

“Alright, baby, let’s go.” And so you were off.

A week had gone by in total bliss. As much as you hated to admit it, Mat was right. Vacationing in Vancouver in a secluded lake house was a lot better than being alone in your apartment, even if you did still have classes to do. Mat teased you about it, but he always left you alone for a few hours in the day for you to focus on your work. Unless he really wanted something… like right now.

Mat had joined you laying on the couch while you were in the middle of annotating a book for class. He wiggled his way between your arms, causing you to break your hold on your book. He rested his head on your chest, arms wrapped around your middle, and nuzzled his face into your neck. Joining your hands back to your book and bringing your highlighter to the page, you continued to underline phrases you’d come back to later. A couple minutes passed in silence before Mat started sighing. And then he sighed again.

“What do you want?” you huffed out, closing your book with the pen marking your page.

“Let’s go swimming,” he said, pushing up to his elbows to look at your face.

“I have to finish, like, three more chapters today,” you explained.

“You can do that later. I want to go swimming now,” Mat whined.

“You know you sound like a petulant child right now, right?” you asked, moving a hand to his head, pushing his hair back as he pouted.

“Stop using big words on me. Let’s swim,” he said, rolling his eyes.

You paused to think about it for a moment, “Hmm… okay, I guess,” you said with a smile. Mat returned your smile with one of his own before hopping up to drag you to your room to change. It didn’t take much to convince you to swim. It was a really nice day out, and you didn’t really care to finish reading about 17th century philosophy.

You changed into your red bikini, Mat swapped his shorts for a pair of swim trunks, and threw on a backwards baseball cap. You went out back to join the rest of his friend group, who were in the process of loading up the boat with supplies and equipment.

“Oh, look, if it isn’t Brainiac and the Beast. Are you two finally going to go boating with us?” Tyson shouted from the dock. You rolled your eyes at his nickname they created for you and Mat. It had only been a week in Vancouver, but the chirps about you and school were tired by now.

“Princess here wants to swim in the pool, maybe next time!” you shouted back, pointing to Mat.

They laughed at your response, turning their attention back to the boat and running supplies to and from the house. You turned your attention back to Mat, who was taking off his hat and was about two seconds away from jumping in the pool.

“Mathew, stop!” you yelled out, “Get your ass over here!”

“What is it?” he asked, stopping just short of the deep end. He grumbled before marching over to you.

“You need to put sunscreen on first, dumbass,” you reprimanded. As you turned your back to grab the bottle of sunscreen, he rolled his eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, Mat,” you said sharply, turning back to face him with a raised eyebrow.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.”

You ignored him, opening the cap and squeezing lotion onto your hands. You gestured him to turn around, and you spread the lotion over it, making sure to rub it into his shoulders.

“I don’t see why I have to put sunscreen on. It’s not even that hot outside,” he muttered.

“First of all, you’re a dumbass. Second of all, heat doesn’t automatically mean the UV rays aren’t strong. And lastly, you’re white, baby, you’ll burn like a sun-dried tomato and being in water only increases the amount of sun you’re exposed to,” you explained, reaching up to rub some on his face.

“Sorry, Miss Meteorologist,” he grumbled, clearly not happy he’d lost this argument.

“One of us has to have brains. We can’t all get by on our good looks and skating ability,” you replied, slapping his cheeks when you were done for good measure.

“Okay, well, if you’re finally done,” you nodded in confirmation, “Let’s go.” He picked you up from under your thighs and ran at full speed towards the pool before you could even process what was happening. You screamed his name in protest begging him to put you down, claiming you hadn’t had time to put on sunscreen yet. He ignored you as he jumped into the deep end, dragging you with him.

You emerged from the water clinging to Mat’s wet body, your hair sopping and hanging over your face like you had come straight out of the movie The Grudge. Mat was laughing at your chaotic look, knowing you were well pissed at him. You jumped higher in the water on top of him to dunk his head under and tried your best to drown him.

It wasn’t until you were relaxing on the couch later that night doing your routinely social media scroll that you saw one of the guys recorded your sunscreen interaction by the pool, you calling Mat a dumbass, and him throwing you in the pool onto their instagram story with a caption “all these two do is fight” with some laughing crying emojis added for effect.

2.

After a long day or hiking, you’d immediately crashed on the couch once you’d gotten back to the house, not bothering to walk all the way to your room. It was only early in the afternoon but you’d been out since sunrise, and dealing with people for hours on end had drained you. The group laughed at you as you plopped your body down onto the couch, curling your head under your arm instead of grabbing the pillow two feet away from you. The rest of them gathered in the kitchen, refueling their bodies with assorted snacks as they started popping open bottles of beer, ready to start the night. It seemed that even an entire day on their feet had not emptied them of their, seemingly endless, energy.

“Jesus Christ, we hiked for, like, six hours and you’re all still bouncing off the walls,” you sighed deeply.

“We’re about to go hit the boat and go water skiing, too. I’m assuming you’re too tired to join us?” Tyson teased.

“I will not be joining you because unlike some people, I need a nap. Now get out of here, you’re all giving me a headache,” you said, pinching your fingers on the bridge of your nose to emphasize your point.

They all snickered but kept quiet as they shuffled around, packing up more food to take outside. You heard the sliding door shut and close a few times as they ran in and out before it was finally silent. You let out a sigh of relief as you took solace in the calm quiet.

That was until you felt a pair of arms shifting you closer to the edge of the couch. You peeked one eye open to see Mat rolling your body over to give him some space as he climbed over your body to nestle himself between you and the back cushions.

“Not going out on the boat?” You asked as he tucked a pillow under the both of your heads and pulled a blanket over your bodies.

“No. They’re exhausting. I need some time for myself,” Mat replied, wrapping his arm around your middle to pull you into his chest.

“No offense, but if you’re with me, you’re not by yourself,” you explained, closing your eyes again as you settled into a comfortable position.

“Yeah, but you’re you. You don’t exhaust me,” he said quietly. You didn’t know what to say to that, so you didn’t answer. Within a few seconds you heard Mat’s breathing even out, and you followed quickly behind him into a deep sleep.

-

A couple hours passed in a dreamless sleep when you heard the sliding of doors and laughter travel through the house. It stirred you from your sleep and you both shifted around, letting out displeased groans.

“Are they both still asleep?” You heard one of them ask from the kitchen. Neither of you wanted to answer in hopes they would leave you two to continue sleeping.

You were sadly mistaken.

“Hey! Sleeping beauties! Time to get up!” Tyson shouted from somewhere above you.

You both groaned out a “Fuck off, Tyson,” without opening your eyes, both of you giving him the middle finger. Tyson laughed to himself and you expected him to keep bothering you, but you heard his footsteps lead away from the couch. You turned over on your other side, tucking your face into Mat’s neck before falling back asleep.

-

When you woke up later that evening, you checked instagram again to see Tyson posted a new story. It was the video of him bothering you two and flipping him off with a caption that said “I get no respect around here :(“

3.

It had been raining all day. Which meant everyone was stuck inside watching movies and eating pizza. It didn’t take long for you to get bored of lounging on the couch, especially when all they wanted to do was watch Fast and Furious movies. You sat on the loveseat you were sharing with Mat, and you distracted yourself from the boring movie by tangling your hands in your hair, French braiding the strands into pigtails mindlessly. You unbraided and rebraided your hair into a fishtail after the pigtails, and then into a regular braided ponytail after that. You let yourself get caught up in daydreams as you stared blankly at the TV when Mat started tugging on your leg. Dropping your braid, you finished tying it off with a hair tie and turned to look at him.

“Let me practice on you,” Mat said quietly.

“Practice what?” You asked.

“Braiding,” he said, shuffling to sit upright. He tried to gently push you off the couch until you got the hint and moved to sit between his legs on the floor.

“You think you can do it?” You asked, ready to offer him a demonstration.

“I’ve been watching you for the past half hour, I got this,” he replied, pulling out your hair tie. You rolled your eyes at his confidence, but let him continue unraveling the strands.

Every few minutes Mat would sigh exasperatedly before pulling out the twists he’d made to start over. Eventually, he’d almost gotten all the way to the end of your hair before he sighed again, clearly fed up by how long this was taking him. You didn’t say anything as he restarted for a third time, going for a straight back braid instead of a French braid.

After another ten minutes, Mat had finally completed his simple braid, tying your hair off with the tie. He tapped your shoulder to indicate he was done, and you pulled the long tail over your shoulder to look at it.

It was a braid.

An extremely loose one where he mixed up the strand order in a couple places, but a braid nonetheless. You turned around to get back up on the couch, and you were met with his triumphant smile.

“Good job, bud,” you complimented, leaving the braid in as you resumed your previous position on the couch.

-

You checked your phone to find a notification of a new story tag. You opened the app to see a picture of you on the floor, staring at the TV while Mat had his hands twisted in your hair and a confused look on his face and tongue poking out of his mouth. Next to your instagram tag was “he’s been knotting her hair on purpose for 20 minutes now”

4.

Your final exams for the summer classes you were taking were in a week. Finals stressed you out more than anything else in the world, and when you were stressed, you did a lot of baking. A lot of baking. After finishing your finals study schedule and nearly breaking down almost twice because of the amount you had to get done, you decided to start baking instead of going to sleep. So, at 3 in the morning when everyone was asleep, you’d  turned on the oven and brought out the bowls.

It began with a few dozen cookies. You figured everyone could at least enjoy the cookies. Who didn’t like cookies?

Cookies turned into muffins, muffins into cupcakes, and then cupcakes into pies. By the time everyone was waking up, it was nearly eleven in the morning. You’d gone to the store twice and had taken a few twenty minute naps while you waited for your desserts baked in the oven. And right now, you were in the middle of finishing off some cinnamon rolls for breakfast

“Oh my god, what the hell happened here?” Mat had asked with a scared expression, taking note of the disastrous kitchen. You didn’t answer him as you were topping off the rolls with some icing.

A few more bodies had gathered in the kitchen and began to fill the seats at the countertop while they watched you with worried eyes.

“What?” You asked innocently, placing the plates of cinnamon rolls in front of all of them. Their eyes followed you carefully as you pulled more goods out of the oven where you were keeping them warm. Plate after plate you set on the counter, all the cookies and muffins and cakes.

“How long have you been up?” Tyson asked cautiously. You swear you’ve never heard him use a softer voice than right now.

“I’m not sure. I never went to sleep, I guess? What time is it now?” You asked, pulling out glasses for orange juice.

“Nearly noon. You seriously didn’t sleep?” Tyson asked. The others had delved into the confections, eyes bouncing between the two of you as they stuffed their faces.

“She’s stress baking,” Mat replied quietly, helping himself to a cinnamon roll.

“What the hell is tress baking?” One of the other guys asked.

“Yeah she does this when she’s stressed. Usually when finals are coming up,” Mat said, directing it more towards you than his friend. You gave him a sheepish look, deciding not to comment since he already answered for you.

Mat was used to your stress baking as it resulted in you showing up at his place in the middle of the night with bags full of pastries in the late hours of the evening. It was always against his diet and he frequently gave most of your desserts to his neighbor, but he could never tell you no when you arrived with gifts.

“Well, I’m all out of flour, so, I’m going to run to the store again to get some more supplies so I can make a chocolate cake later,” you said hurriedly.

You did a quick double check of the kitchen, flashing all the guys a bright smile before heading out the door with your purse in hand, all of them staring until the front door shut behind you.

-

When you came back, you found Mat in the kitchen doing the dishes and nearly all the sweets you’d baked earlier were eaten or wrapped and put away. Maybe there was a plus side to being in a home with five other people.

“Mat, you don’t have to do that,” you said, setting your groceries down and hip checking him away from the sink.

“You’re already stressed, I figured doing the dishes would take away some of that,” he said with a shrug. He continued rinsing out some bowls as you gave him a small smile.

The two of you continued to wash the dishes in silence, moving to clean the countertops when you were done. After half an hour, the mess you’d made was gone and any signs of a baking breakdown had been erased.

It was a shame you were about to tear up the kitchen all over again.

“How about this,” Mat said, noticing the frown on your face at the thought of making another mess, “Let’s have a competition.”

You quirked your eyebrow, “I’m listening.”

“You said you were making a chocolate cake, right? How about we see who can make the better cake,” Mat propositioned.

You raised both your eyebrows this time. You both knew you were the better baker by a long shot. You did have this same breakdown at least twice a year. You weren’t even sure Mat knew how to make anything that didn’t come with box instructions or included possible salmonella-inducing ingredients.

You knew what he was really trying to do. He was trying to distract you from all the stress, and he knew you couldn’t turn down a competition. You were just as bad as him when it came to winning. Thankfully, this was something you knew you’d win.

“Fine, but I hope you’re prepared to lose,” you agreed with a smile.

“I don’t know, I have been practicing my cooking skills lately,” he said, grabbing the bowls he’d just dried off.

“Yeah, I’ll believe that when I see it,” you replied with an eye roll and heavy sarcasm.

You joined him in gathering all the ingredients and materials on the counter, setting up your respective stations. Mat divided the workspace in half, drawing a line in flour which made you laugh. You split the bowls between the sides and set up the ingredients on the second counter just like an actual cooking show.

“Okay, ground rules first. Half an hour to make the cakes, we bake them at the same time, and then another half hour for decorating at the end,” you explained, tying your hair back in a ponytail. Mat nodded at your statement and set a timer on his phone for 30 minutes.

“Ready.”

“Set.”

“Go!”

-

After about two hours, your creations were done. Well, they were supposed to be. Mat’s cake looked more or less like a brown lump coated in frosting and stripes. You’d tried your best to decorate yours with small chocolate roses, but you could’ve turned out a plain cake and probably would have done better.

“I think I won,” you stated confidently.

“You’re not allowed to decide, you’re biased! I’ll make a poll on my story,” Mat said, going to grab his phone.

“You can’t do that, your followers are going to pick yours.”

“Fine, we’ll get someone else to do it— Josty! Come here,” Mat called to his friend passing through the kitchen. He hesitantly walked over to where you were, not wanting to come in the middle of whatever you two were shouting about.

“We need you to make an instagram poll to see who’s cake looks better. Oh, and you’re going to taste test them,” you said, picking up your cake to pose for a picture as Mat did the same. Tyson sighed before realizing you two were serious and he opened his app to take a picture.

He added the photo to his story with a poll asking “Which one is better?” With two options, Y/N’s or Mat’s.

After you set the cakes back down, Tyson picked up a fork before stabbing them to pick out a chunk from each. He ate yours first, nearly moaning at the taste.

“Holy shit, this is, like, the best cake I’ve ever eaten,” Tyson said, shoveling down another forkful. You gave Mat a shit-eating grin.

“Okay, okay, try mine now,” Mat said, displeased. Tyson rolled his eyes before forking out some of his.

“Uh,” he coughed, “it’s a little,” cough, “dry.”

“What? No, it’s not! Let me try,” Mat shouted, outraged, and grabbed Tyson’s fork to try for himself.

It took him two seconds before he was spitting the cake into a napkin.

“Fine. You win,” Mat conceded, throwing a dish towel against the counter in mock fury.

You gloated for another 5 minutes, pointing out Mat’s terrible baking skills as Tyson continued to eat your cake and laugh at Mat.

You won the instagram poll too.

+ 1

It was the last week before you and Mat were flying back to New York. The past month had passed quickly, and Mat needed to get back for the start of training camps. As the summer began to end, the whole crew thought they’d spend one last day on the boat before everyone started parting ways.

It’s not like you were opposed to being on boats, but when all the guys did was water sports and no one wanted to slow down to teach you, it wasn’t as fun.

Today, however, had been quite calm as you sat against the front of the boat, a seltzer in hand as you watched Tyson wakeboarding in the back. Mat was curled up behind you as you leaned back against his chest, tanned skin shining in the summer sun. You reached back to grab the baseball cap off his head, placing it on yours to shield your eyes from the sun. You’d forgotten to bring sunglasses, and you figured Mat could part with his hat since he had a pair.

The day passed peacefully as all the guys took turns until it was sunset. Mat had joined you back on the seat, skin wet from just getting out of the water. He wrapped you in his arms before pulling you onto his lap, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek.

“Hey, Tys, take a picture of us real quick,” Mat said, shoving his phone into Tyson’s chest.

You thought nothing of it, you and Mat had taken many pictures together, and this was no different. Mat rested his chin on your shoulder, his arms wrapped around your stomach as you both gave your cheesiest smiles to the camera. A quick shutter indicated the picture was taken and Tyson gave Mat his phone back.

-

Mat called your name from your bed as you stood in the adjoined bathroom, finishing your nightly routine.

“Hey, do you mind if I post that picture of us on my instagram?” Mat called out.

“The one from the boat? Why?” You asked, drying off your face with a towel.

“It’s a cute picture,” he shrugged when you reentered the room.

“People are going to start talking if you do,” you warned with a cautious tone.

He paused for a second.

“Would that be such a bad thing?” Mat asked quietly, looking up to meet your eyes.

You stayed silent as you climbed in under the covers.

“What are you trying to say, Mat?”

He took a deep breath, “I think you’re amazing, you know that. And we’ve been friends for so long, it kind of feels natural, doesn’t it?” His fingers began tapping against the sheets anxiously as he held his breath and waited for your response.

You gave him a small smile, moving your body around to fully face him.

“It does,” you agreed, “But if you want us to be something more, you’re going to have to ask me on a date first.”

“A date? After I’ve already gotten you into bed? What’s the point?” You knew he meant it as a joke since he could barely finish the sentence without laughing, but you gently slapped his head as he began to apologize.

“I’m kidding!” He said between chuckles, “Will you go on a date with me once we get back to New York and it’s safe to go out again?”

“I’d love to, Mat,” you replied, leaning in to give him a sweet kiss.

“I’m still going to post that photo tomorrow, though,” he said after a short pause, smiling against your lips.

-

The next day when Mat had gone on a fishing trip with the guys, you saw a notification pop up on your phone.

“@barzal97 tagged you in a photo”

You unlocked your phone.

“Isolation isn’t so bad when you have this girl to spend it with”

[xx-ashes-xx]

Heyyy can I request a reaction of enhypen to how they would be with you around the members? Like how they would interact and blah blah blah? ♡

Of course!! This honestly took longer than expected but I had fun writing it. I don't think I'm going to be able to put pictures in all of my posts so please bear with the plain text ;-; (I wrote this on desktop so no emojis here)

How Enhypen would act with you around the members

Word Count: 903

Genre: Fluff and a bit of crack

Warnings: I don't think there's any but please be careful!

Disclaimer: This is pure fiction! Please don't become a delulu from fics!

Heeseung:

He would want to make everyone feel comfortable

So you guys wouldn’t do anything really intimate

The farthest he would go is giving you a peck on the cheek

His members saw how awkward he was acting

They would laugh and tell him that he could relax around them

So he went for something daring

He pulled you in by the waist and gave you a kiss on the lips

His members were shocked

You were shocked

“When we said that we didn’t mind we didn’t mean we were okay with you two making out!”

Jay:

Jay is just chill about it

He’ll have you on his lap

A hand wrapped around your waist while he was on his phone

The members didn’t mind at all

Since Jungwon sat in Jay’s lap before

Would still call you nicknames

“Babe, look at this TikTok”

You were a bit surprised but you didn’t mind it

The members were really surprised though

He was really comfortable about his relationship with you

No shame

“Jay hyung, are you confident in your relationship with Y/N?”

“Of course, we’re happy and I’m not embarrassed or shy about it.”

Jake:

Honestly, nothing really changed after you and Jake got together

You two were really affectionate while friends so the only thing that was added was handholding and kisses

The members were used to it

Jake would have his head on your shoulder as he talked to Sunghoon

They were arguing about something silly, probably about who's stronger now since they've been working out a lot

Jake suggested on arm-wrestling, whoever wins is the stronger one

In the end, Sunghoon won

Making Jake scream in frustration

He buried his head into your chest for comfort

Causing you to laugh

"It's alright Jakey, I think you're strong."

"Thank you, but I'm still sad from losing."

"Well, there's one thing you'll always beat Sunghoon in."

"Really? What is it?"

"Being the best, cutest, boyfriend ever."

Jake giggled and hid his face

"Yeah of course I'm always going to lose, I don't even have a s/o!"

Sunghoon:

He would show you off

A LOT

"Did you know that Y/N is really good at massaging? They would massage my back whenever it was sore. They might even be better than you Jay."

"Why am I brought into this-"

Brags about how good you are at everything.

But also gets jealous if one of the members compliments you

"Y/N, you're really good at this game!" Sunoo complimented

"Of course, they're my s/o after all." Sunghoon replied

I should mention he gets clingy when jealous

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder as he looked at Sunoo

His tongue against his cheek

Would whine if you're paying attention to someone else

"Y/N pay attention to me! I'm your boyfriend, not Jake!"

Would demand kisses if you didn't

Overall, he's adorable when the members are around you

Sunoo:

Shows you off pt. 2

You went to the arcade with him and the members

Ni-ki challenged you to the basketball game

Loser has to give winner all of their tickets

Ni-ki was in the lead

But near the end, he kept on missing while your score went up and up

When it was over, you won by 1 point

Making Sunoo scream his lungs out in happiness

"Wow!! Y/N is amazing!!"

He gave you a tight hug with a huge smile plastered on his face

Sunoo kept on praising you and showing you off for the rest of the day.

He would not let go of your hand and had a huge smile on his face

Clingy as well

Back hugs, side hugs, playing with your hair, playing with your fingers

He adores you to death

Literally cannot get enough

Even at the dorms, he'll lay his head on your lap and watch you do whatever

Clingy boyfriend Sunoo <3

Jungwon:

I think he's going to be like Jay

Casual about it

You'll be sitting on the couch and holding hands

Or out in public doing the same

He won't make a big deal about it

You would be the one who would get shy the most

He would say something that would make you flustered

"Honey, can you get me some ice cream while you're in the kitchen?"

You froze

He called you honey

IN FRONT OF HIS MEMBERS???

They would never let you two forget about it

They would tease you both

Especially Jungwon

"Honey?!" Sunoo exclaimed

Jay's eyes widen when he heard that

Endless teasing

"You two act like a married couple!"

"So cute!!"

Jungwon is now regretting his choice of words

But he still calls you honey in private.

Because he loves you <3

Ni-ki:

Does not care what the members think

Well, mainly.

He still gets shy from time to time

He would lay his head on your lap

Cuddle with you in one of the bedrooms

Chase you around the dorms

The members didn't say anything

But they thought you two were cute

While you and Ni-ki were taking a nap

The members came into the room and took a bunch of pictures

Later, when you two were awake

They started teasing the hell out of both of you

Especially Ni-ki

"Our maknae~"

"So cute!"

Ni-ki buried his face into your neck

"We're never acting like a couple in front of you guys again."

The next day you two didn't change one bit.

[staticscreenwriting]

Love like the movies // Bucky Barnes // 6

SIX - GHOST

Trigger warning: Alcohol, food, mention of sex (nothing graphic and no actual smut)

Masterlist

Summary: This is a story of boy meets girl. The boy, Bucky Barnes, finds himself thrown into a world that seems so different from everything he’s ever known. The girl, (Y/N) knows entirely too much about rom-coms and is quite particular about the way she eats her popcorn. Bucky meets (Y/N) a few months after returning to NYC. He knows almost immediately that becoming her friend is inevitable. This is a story of boy meets girl. This is a story about love. (Bucky Barnes x female!Reader // a few spoilers for TFATWS)

"You held hands?"

"Mmh."

"And then you cuddled."

"We didn't cuddle, I was just kind of - leaning into him. Sort of."

"So you cuddled!"

"Sure. If that's what you wanna call it. We cuddled."

"Then what?" Robin inquires. Smirking at (Y/N) over the rim of her wine glass, like a giddy pre-teen waiting for the kissing scene to come up in a romance movie.

"And nothing. That's it."

"Oh come oooon. You cozied up to each other and then just what - acted like it never happened?"

"Essentially. But that's okay. It's not a big deal. And don't say it like that."

"Like what?" Robin continues to poke and by this point, it's not so much her wanting information than her trying to rile up (Y/N). Though she's very well aware of this, (Y/N) falls for it anyway.

"Cozied up to each other," (Y/N) says and scrunches her nose up in distaste. "Like we had dirty sex or something."

"Do you want to have dirty sex with him? Oh man, imagine what that arm can do."

Holding her hand out to stop her best friend from talking, (Y/N) takes a big gulp of white wine, emptying her glass. This is a conversation that can't be held entirely sober. "First of all, don't say those things about his arm. It's- I don't know. It doesn't sit right with me."

"Sorry yeah that was … not cool" Robin apologizes and by the tone of her voice (Y/N) can tell she means it.

"I'm the first to admit that Bucky is insanely handsome and if things were different, sure. But we're friends and I really enjoy the time spent together and our friendship. I don't wanna do anything to jeopardize it or ruin it by adding unnecessary feelings to it."

"Feelings aren't unnecessary," Robin replies, combing her fingers through her fiery red curls.

"Sometimes they are. The last thing Bucky and I need is broken hearts and ruined friendships."

"What if it doesn't end that way?"

"Relationships never work out well for me, you know that."

Robin places her glass on the countertop. It means whatever talk is gonna follow, it'll be a serious one. There's been very little need for a serious talk between the girls over the time they've been friends but neither of them has ever been afraid to start those conversations and say things as they are. Sometimes that's what friendship is, being blunt even if it's not what your friend wants to hear.

"Look I'm not saying you have to take the relationship to another level. If this is making you happy the way it is, then that's all that matters to me. I just don't want you to give up on something that could be great, because you're scared and because some stupid assholes in the past didn't realize what they had in you."

Where she's only had shit luck with relationships, (Y/N) thinks she's really lucked out in the friend department. Robin is as wonderful as they come. Even if she drives her crazy sometimes.

"They weren't all assholes." (Y/N) chimes up weakly though there's not even enough determination in her voice to convince herself.

"Weren't they? Let's see ...I'm not even gonna talk about Russel. He doesn't count. Who else was there? Pete liked to show you off but he didn't like you. Did he?"

"Not really."

"See? Asshole! Kylie only wanted to be with you so she could be the cool girl who's fucked another girl once and use that as something to brag to the guys about."

"She was figuring herself out."

"She was straight, babe. She was using you and your sexuality as some kind of badge of honor so guys would think she's cool. She only wanted to make out with you at parties and when there were men around to ogle you. I’m the last person to blame anyone for trying to figure out who they are and who they like but that wasn’t the case here. She used you, and what does that make her?"

“ An asshole? “

“ An asshole!”

“ What about Ricky, he wasn’t an asshole! “ (Y/N) chimes in, filling her glass up once more.

“ Okay sure but he was your High School sweetheart and that rarely lasts. I’m not gonna count him. What about Mike —“

“— Okay, you’ve made your point. I have a bad taste in romantic partners, I get it. Doesn’t change anything. Me and Bucky we’re — we’re good as we are. No romance needed.”

“ Just don’t want you to miss out on something great.”

It’s not that the thought has never crossed her mind. In fact, when she’s being really honest to herself, it swirls around her head a lot. When he grants her one of his smiles. The rare ones that make his eyes crinkle. Or when he comes to see her and brings dog treats for Lady, just because he’s that thoughtful. Or when she noticed he put a popcorn and a sun emoji next to her name in his phone. The popcorn, as he said because she liked movies and the sun because she’s always happy and smiling. Or when he held her hand throughout the entire movie. Those are moments when (Y/N) thinks about what it would be like to be more than friends.

“ It’s great as it is now. He’s great.”

“ Then that’s all that matters to me.” Robin smiles. She has one of those smiles that makes you feel at home. Comfortable and soft. Like warm milk with honey a mom makes their child when they can’t sleep.

It’s a while later, when (Y/N) strolls back into the room, another bottle of wine in hand, that a knock sounds on her front door. Her eyes wander to Robin then to the door then back. “I’m not expecting anyone.”

“ Oh, that’s Bucky.” Robin, who’s by now migrated over to (Y/N)’s huge fluffy couch, Lady cuddled onto her lap, says with the most casual of tones (Y/N) has ever heard. As if Bucky and her have been lifelong friends. As if there is nothing strange or peculiar about this situation.

“ How do you know?”

Robin shrugs and goes back to petting Lady’s curly fur. “ He texted you when you were getting the wine. Said he was around and had food. I told him to come join us for movie night. What’s the big deal? “

“ I uh — it’s not I just — you could’ve told me. “

“ That was literally 5 minutes ago babe. I had no time to tell you yet. By the way, this man uses entirely too many emojis.”

A smile pulls on the corners of (Y/N)’s lips. She’s asked him once why he never used any emojis, or smileys as he called them (all of them — even the ones that aren’t faces). He told her he didn’t really understand when to use most of them, like the shrimp or the Hockey stick. (Y/N) told him it’s because they’re fun. Ever since then he uses all kinds of emojis with her. None really relating to his messages. It’s quite endearing if she’s being honest.

“ Are you gonna let him in? “ Robin asks, shaking (Y/N) out of her thoughts.

The smell of Chinese food floods into the apartment as (Y/N) opens her door to Bucky. He looks so effortlessly cool in his leather jacket and boots. With his hair a little longer now, all swoopy and quiffed. Like the bad boy straight from a romance novel. The one with a heart of gold. The one that gets the girl.

(Y/N) is not that girl, the one from the novels, the Hallmark movies. The one that’s quirky but never weird. The one that makes all the boys fall for her. She’s not the main character, at least according to herself. She’s the side character that shows up like twice. The one that helps the main character on their quest to self-discovery or true love. That’s who she is. Not more, not less.

“ I brought food!” Bucky exclaims as he steps inside, waving the bag around before placing it on the kitchen counter, to which Lady jumps up from her position on Robin’s lap.

Lady, (Y/N) has realized a while ago, has somehow fallen head over paws in love with Bucky. Always following him, looking up at him with her big brown puppy eyes. Always looking to be close to him. Maybe, (Y/N) thinks, it’s the treats he always carries around. But maybe it’s Bucky too and his patience and his affection and the way he greets the little dog like she’s the main reason he’s come around.

Moments like this, they come with those little flutters around the heart. People always compare them to butterflies. (Y/N) thinks that’s wrong. Butterflies are gentle, graceful, and soft. This feels like a swarm of bees. Chaotic. Overwhelming. A little bit scary.

“ Man, did you plan on coming here, or did you buy all this for yourself?” Robin asks, eyes wide in surprise at the sheer amount of styrofoam containers Bucky keeps pulling from the bags.

“ I kind of bought it with the intention of sharing, yeah. “

Robin’s eyes meet (Y/N)’s across the room and there's a silent secret there, hidden in her teasing smirk. One shared only with a friend. No words. No sounds. Just the truth and two knowing hearts connecting.

“ Am I intruding? If you guys want me to leave, I can leave. “

While he tries to keep his voice casual, the sad tint doesn’t get lost on (Y/N).

“ Absolutely not, don’t be silly. We’re just drinking wine and watching a movie and you are free to join us in both.”

While he shakes his head at her offer of wine, Bucky helps (Y/N) bring the food over to the couch and plops down in the middle of the couch, Robin to his right and (Y/N) on his left.

“ What are we watching? “ he asks, a dumpling already on the way into his mouth.

“ Well, “ Robin responds filling her glass up once more, “ it was (Y/N)’s turn to chose so —”

“ A rom-com”

“ A rom-com. “

Something about seeing these two interact and joke around inspires a fuzzy feeling to wrap itself around (Y/N)’s heart. Even if they’re making fun of her.

The way Bucky fits in here, as if it’s where he’s always belonged. The way he’s not a stranger imposing but a friend added to the mix. It’s a nice feeling. She hopes he feels it too.

“ Okay, whatever. This isn’t your usual rom-com though, there are ghosts in this one. “

“ Is it ghosts falling in love?” Robin asks and lets her laugh get swallowed by her wine glass.

“ No. Well — uh kinda but not really. They fall in love be — you know what, just start the damn movie! “

There’s an undeniable intimacy in watching your favorite movies with other people. It’s like giving away little pieces of yourself and sharing them with others. No matter how insignificant it may seem to anyone else but you. These are the things that make us who we are. Our passions. For art. For music. For books. For movies. And opening up is always scary. Even if it’s just a teeny tiny bit.

Through the corner of her eye (Y/N) glances at Bucky and Robin, trying to judge their reactions. See if they’re enjoying themselves or not. Bucky displays his ever-present scowl. It’s the default setting. Sometimes she wonders if that has always been the case. If that's just what he looks like or if years of abuse, horror, pain have left their marks on him, on not only his heart but also his face.

Maybe this can be his safe place, she thinks. Maybe she can be. Not someone to fix him, because he’s not broken, just lost. Not to fix but to hold his hand while he heals. Slowly but surely.

For a while, the three sit in comfortable silence. The kind that fills you with this inexplicable calm. Where no words are needed.

And then the beginning chords of unchained melody spill from the tv speakers. It’s a touch there, a kiss here, hands covered in clay. Bodies covered in clay. Gasps and heavy breathing. Hands grasping skin, wandering, loving.

Robin’s presence falls completely to the back of (Y/N)’s mind. Bucky’s however...

“Do you want to have dirty sex with him? “ her friend's words ghost through her head like a particularly annoying jingle for some tv ad. The room feels warm all of a sudden. Not warm — boiling. There’s a heat radiating from her right, from Bucky. So what if he’s attractive. So what if she sometimes lets her mind wander and think about how his hands would feel on her skin or his lips on hers or his — yeah okay you get the point. So what?

Bucky slumps down into the couch a little more with every second of steamy pottery sex that’s fluttering across the tv screen. Is he — nervous? Uncomfortable ? No, she must be imagining it. Projecting, that’s what this is. She’s projecting her own chaotic emotional state onto him. There’s nothing there. (Y/N) has to remind herself. Just secret little thoughts that have to be kept between her and her. As long as no one knows, no one gets hurt. It’s the easy way out. The safe way. The right way.

Right?

“ Sooo, what did you guys think?” (Y/N) asks, turning her body towards her friends and sitting criss-cross on the couch.

“ Didn’t expect all the murder. “ Bucky replies as he takes a sip from his beer. “ And the — “

“ The messy sex! I know.” a visibly intoxicated Robin cuts in.

“ Not where I was going but okay.”

She doesn’t pay his words any attention, instead of launching herself backwards over the arm of the couch, dramatically fanning herself with her perfectly manicured hand. “ I am not going to lie, oh boy that was some hot stuff. Wouldn’t say no to that.”

“Oh please,” (Y/N) chimes in, wine glass clutched in hand and smile on her face. She can clearly feel the alcohol washing through her system bringing her to the place between sober and drunk where everything feels light and your confidence seems to get a little extra boost. “ What do you have to complain about? You’re getting married in two weeks! I’m sure you get enough action as it is. “

Robin doesn’t answer right away, just throws (Y/N) a giddy, boozed-up smile. Though in her eyes, there’s a loved-up glimmer of someone about to marry the love of their life.

“ Yeah, that’s true.”

“See, so you’re not the one that should be complaining. Us, however…”

Her red curls swing around her like a spark of fire as Robin sits up again, pointing her finger at (Y/N).

“ And whose fault is that? You could be getting some if you didn’t get so lost in your romantic fantasies. And him — “ the red-haired girl exclaims before pointing her finger towards Bucky “ don’t even tell me he ain’t getting some. Look at him! Are you sexually active, Bucky? “

“ You don’t have to answer that. Robin, come on.”

“ No, you don’t have to but you should. I’m trying to prove a point. Help me prove a point, Bucky. “

“ You’re making him uncomfortable. “

“ Am I making him uncomfortable or you? “

“ Ooookay, I think it’s time for you to go to bed. “

“ Nooo, we’re having a conversation. “

“ Would you look at that, my drink is empty. I’m just gonna — I’m gonna get another one. Okay? Okay.”

Bucky doesn’t wait for an answer before getting up and rushing out of the living room and into the kitchen, clearly uncomfortable. Clearly embarrassed.

“ See what you did? You scared him off. “

“ I couldn’t scare that man off if I tried. Trust me. “ Robin murmurs, a loud yawn cutting through her argument. There’s a certain determination in her words though. Some truth hidden in there that (Y/N) can’t quite put her finger on. It’s like Robin knows something she doesn’t. And maybe it’s good this way. Maybe she doesn’t need to know.

“ Alright, whatever that’s supposed to mean, Tipsy. I’ll go see what he’s up to. You go the fuck to sleep.”

“ Whatever mom, “ Robin bickers and cuddles closer into the soft couch anyway. “ Oh, don’t forget to invite him! I like him. We’re friends now. “

“ Go to sleep! “ (Y/N) orders again, earning herself a salute from her best friend who starts snoring no more than 2 seconds later.

He feels like a 13-year-old. Actually — no. Things were easier at 13. Situations like this one were easier at 13. Being horny was easier at 13.

It was all new to him then, yes, but it was new for everyone at 13. He’s 106 now, a grown man. He should be able to talk or at least think about these things without turning into a full-blown mess. His hand is clammy, his face is probably the same shade of bright red as Robin’s hair. And by god, his thoughts are a jumbled mess, swirling around all over the place.

Truth be told, he hasn’t had a lot of time to actually think about anything even remotely physical. It was never very high on his list of things to figure out and the opportunity hasn’t really presented itself to him either. Not since the 1940s at least.

Have things changed? Surely not, right? Maybe people got a bit more experimental and for sure they talk more openly about it now but the fundamentals must have stayed the same. He sure hopes so at least.

His thoughts get interrupted as (Y/N) steps into the kitchen. Her eyes are slightly glassed over from the wine though she’s nowhere near as drunk as Robin. She seems happy, then again she always does. For a little moment, he feels jealousy wash over him. About being able to get drunk. It’s damn stupid, he’s well aware. But that doesn’t make his feelings less valid. To just drink and let go and forget, that sounds really nice.

But that’s just one of the things the serum has taken from him. By far not the worst aspect of it all but unpleasant either way.

“ Hey uh — you okay? “ she asks leaning against the kitchen island across from him.

“ Sure. Are you? “

“ I uh — might be a little drunk, “ (Y/N) confesses as she lifts her hand and indicates a tiny space with her fingers.

“ Yeah, I think you might be.” Bucky laughs. Actually laughing comes naturally when she’s around and quite honestly, at first, it made him feel guilty. Guilty about the fact that he got to laugh along with a pretty girl while so many people had to die through his hands.

He tries to push those thoughts away. They aren’t doing anyone any good. Not him and not those people either.

“ Hey, I’m sorry she was making you uncomfortable. She gets — well she has no filter when drunk. Or ever really.”

Bucky shakes his head. His finger nervously trails along the grain of the stone countertop. There are conversations he needs to have, sooner or later, if he wants to live his life. Not just coast along but actually live. But it doesn’t mean those come easy. Not for someone who’s been through all he’s been through. Not for someone who’s grown up the way he has, who’s been raised the way he has.

“ Ah, no. Don’t worry. I uh — I just. It’s been a long time since I had talks like this. “

“ Like what? “

“ Between friends, you know. About — stuff. “

“ About sex? “

“ Mmh. “

“ You don’t have to talk about it with us if you don’t want to. It’s fine. “

“ No, but I do want to talk about sex with you. I mean — not you, you. You both. But not in a weird way. I mean — with friends. “

“ Okay. “

“ It’s just that I was raised in different times and the last time I had a real actual friend that I talked to about intimate things was so long ago. Steve and I talked about everything and even then there used to be reservations. One because I don’t think Steve really wanted details and two because Steve wasn’t — he didn’t have the most experience when it came to women so it was a very one-sided conversation. And I’ve never talked about any of this with a girl. It’s all new to me but I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you. “

(Y/N) regards him with a glimmer of amusement and mischief in her eyes as she munches away on some cold leftover spring rolls.

“ You don’t have to justify yourself to me, Buck. I know you trust me, I hope you know I trust you. “

He does. And he doesn’t hate how it sounds when she calls him Buck.

“ So, Robin and Charlie are getting married in two weeks. I was wondering if you’d like to be my plus one. Back when they announced it I was under the impression Russel and I would be a thing by then but uh — clearly that didn’t happen. It’s in upstate New York. We’re all gonna stay at this gorgeous Inn and well there’s a spot open if you want it.”

“ As a plus one? “

No matter how much he wants to deny it to himself, his heart does a little flutter as she says those words. A plus one sounds like something. He’s not sure what but something, surely.

“ Yeah, as a friend, obviously. “

“ Obviously. “

There goes the flutter.

“ Robin is okay with it by the way. She explicitly told me to ask you.”

“ So Robin wants me there, not you. “

“ No! I want you there! I love spending time with you. Also, Robin’s family is crazy. I need you by my side. I need you there. I want you there. “

“The need to be needed is an individual’s sense of significance rooted in the sense of being part of a community or cause beyond themselves. The need to be needed is one of our fundamental desires. We want to feel significant in the eyes of others, even if it is only one other person. “

Bucky has read those words in one of the many magazines stacked on the little side table in the waiting room of Dr. Raynor's office. They didn’t really make much sense to him then. He always thought he’d be fine by himself.

In that moment he realizes that was all a big pile of absolute bullshit.

The feeling of being wanted, of being needed, even if it’s just one person that needs him, that means everything.

“ Okay, I’ll come. “

“ Yeah? “

And there it is again, the smile that reminds him of the sun. The smile that he’s sure could bring a thousand men to their knees, including himself.

“ Cool. I’m — I’m really happy about that. “

“ Mmh. Me too. “

For a moment they just look at each other, words unspoken swirling in the air between them, neither brave enough to let them slip from their tongue.

It’s not until a particularly loud snore coming from the living room pops the bubble and breaks the spell.

Both of them fall into giggles before Bucky speaks up again.

“ It's late I should probably go. “

“ Yeah and I should go to bed. I’ll have a hangover tomorrow for sure.”

Bucky slips into his leather jacket and places a soft kiss goodbye on Lady’s head before turning back to (Y/N).

“ For the record, I’m not getting any. “

“ I uh — okay. Good. Well not good, “ (Y/N) stumbles over her words “ not good for you. Good for me. I mean. Not that I don’t want you to have sex. But I mean, Robin was taking the piss, and if I don’t get laid it makes me feel better to know you aren’t either. Oh god, this sounds horrible. I’m just gonna stop talking now. “

Bucky smiles the brightest smile she’s ever seen him smile, it almost breaks his face in two. And even though she wants the ground to swallow her whole right then, if it puts a smile like that on his face, she’ll gratefully embarrass herself again.

“ Have a good night, (Y/N). “

“ You too, Bucky”

And with a kiss to her head, he leaves the flat, a smile staying on his lips the entire way home.

“ Why did I have to come again? This is a bachelorette party, I thought men aren’t allowed. “ Bucky grumbles as (Y/N) parks her truck in the parking lot of the convenience store. The pink and blue neon lights reflect on the wet asphalt.

“ It’s a shared party. We’re all friends so it makes sense for the couple to celebrate together. Stop moaning. “ (Y/N) exclaims as her heels create a click-clack sound.

The store is empty as they enter except for the bored-looking teenager leaning against the counter by the cash register.

There’s something about empty stores at night that makes it feel like time stands still. Like for a moment, reality is altered. There’s only you and the outdated music coming from the speakers and the hum of the refrigerators holding the soda cans.

“ I can’t believe Hannah forgot to bake the cake. It’s all she had to do. I did everything else, everything. She had one job. “

Bucky’s learned by now to just let her rant about this topic. It’s all she’s talked about for the last hours since Hannah, public enemy number one that day, has called her to inform her she’s forgotten about the cake. Why there needs to be a cake at this party, Bucky doesn’t know but hey, who is he to question it.

(Y/N) walks straight over to the counter that holds the bakery items only to be met with disappointment.

“ Well great. We can choose between one single cupcake, a box of stale donuts, and a croissant. “

“ What about this one? “ Bucky asks and points towards a bright pink cake decorated with candy roses and white icing.

“ It says Happy Birthday. “

“ Ah, don’t worry we can fix that.”

(Y/N) raises her eyebrows in doubt. “ You sure? “

“ 100%. Trust me. “

She regards him for a moment, uncertainty shining through, before granting him a little smile and a nod. “ Okay then. You get the cake, I’ll be over there for a second. “

Looking through the fridges, (Y/N)’s eyes fall onto a pack of popsicles in the shape of Captain America’s shield.

Ripping open the fridge door she calls out “ Hey Grumpy, would you like thes— “

All she hears is a smack and then Bucky’s voice exclaiming a loud “Fuck!”

And in that moment she doesn’t know what’s more shocking, the fact that she just slammed the door right into his face or hearing him swear.

“ Are you okay? I’m so sorry. “

“ I’ll be fine.”

“ We gotta put ice on it. “

“ No (Y/N) I — “

She’s already on her way to get a pack of frozen peas. And if Bucky is being real honest, his cheek does hurt quite a bit. Super Soldier Serum and all …

“ I am genuinely so sorry. “

Bucky sits on the bed of (Y/N)’s truck, frozen peas pressed to his face and a chuckle falling from his lips as (Y/N) sends yet another apology his way.

“ It’s okay, (Y/N). I told you, I’m fine. “

He pulls the peas away from his face and places them next to him, before picking up the cake and lifting the plastic lid off of the container.

“ Alright, let’s see if I can fix this. “

“ You have a bruise on your cheek. “

Bucky looks up at her with those gorgeous blue eyes of his, that (Y/N) sometimes finds herself drowning in. Calm and story all at once. Like oceans.

“ Does it make me look rough and handsome? “

“ You’re always handsome. But yes, it gives you a roguish charm. “

“ Good. “

(Y/N) feels a heat rush to her face as Bucky focuses back on the cake.

“ Mmmkay. Let me see. What if we — “ Bucky murmurs, more to himself than to (Y/N). He swipes his finger, sans glove, over the white icing letters and while there’s a good intention there, when he lifts his finger back up the cake looks like a downright mess.

“ Ta-da “ he exclaims and turns the cake towards her.

“ It says Happy day now “

“ Is it not a happy day? “ Bucky asks, eyebrows raised in question.

“ Let me rephrase that. It says ‘Happy messy white stain Day’ “

Bucky pulls his lips into a grimace, eyes wandering from (Y/N) down to the cake and back to her. “ Yeah, we can’t bring that “.

Laughter fills the air as they regard the sad mess of a cake before them. If this was a movie, (Y/N) thinks, this would be their moment. The one where they realize. The one that feels like time stops and all that matters is them.

Something wet and sticky against her cheek pulls her from her daydream.

“ What the hell? “

Bucky only grins at her. There’s the boyish charm again. It’s so insanely endearing to see these little moments flare up and push through the perpetual gloom he seems to carry with him. He doesn't hold the weight of 90 years of fighting on his shoulders right then.

“ Oh you didn’t “

Before Bucky can react she grabs a handful of the cake and smashes it against the uninjured side of his face.

“ Is that how you wanna play it? Okay. Fine. “

Cake flies through the air as their laughter rings through the night. Not a thought wasted on pain, on worries, on heartbreak.

The rooftop bar (Y/N) booked specifically for this night is covered in fairy lights and glitter decor. There’s a karaoke machine in one corner and an open bar in the other.

A loud cheer sounds from the crowd as Robin steps out into the open, fingers intertwined with those of a petite brunette with big square glasses sitting on her nose.

They get swallowed by a tidal wave of people, pulled from one hug into another, and while his eyes stay with them, Bucky feels a touch against his metal arm. (Y/N) wraps herself around him leans her head against his shoulder and stares lovingly at the couple before them.

“ I’m so glad she’s happy. I love her so much. “

“ She loves you too. “ he says.

And really how could anyone not?

A little while later, when the crowd has allowed them to breathe again, Robin and the brunette wander towards Bucky and (Y/N), matching smiles on their faces.

“ Buck, this is Charlie, Robin’s fiancee. Charlie, this is my friend Bucky. “

“ It’s so nice to meet you,” Charlie exclaims, a strong English accent dripping from her words. “ What in the world happened to your face? Are you okay? “

While Bucky smirks, (Y/N) flinches at those words and shrinks into herself a little.

“ Oh you know, funny story. Someone here was a little too excited about some red white and blue popsicles. “

Robin lets out a loud laugh “ Now that sounds like someone I know very well. “

“ They were shaped like Cap’s shield, okay. I thought it was funny and fitting. “

Charlie’s eyes move between the 3, a look of confusion settling on her features.

“ Why fitting? “

“ Oh babe, let me catch you up,” Robin says and steers Charlie in the direction of the bar.

The night flies by and for the first time in so long, Bucky doesn’t feel out of place. Not for a single moment. Even being surrounded by people he doesn’t know and while listening to music he doesn’t get. It’s nice, feeling like you belong.

Robin and Charlie have just finished their karaoke rendition of Don’t Stop Believing when a familiar voice echoes from the speakers.

“ Hello guys, my name is (Y/N). You may know me, I’m the maid of honor. I am responsible for this party — you’re welcome. Anyway, I guess it’s my turn to sing tonight but I can’t do this one alone. I’m gonna require my friend, Mr. James Buchanan Barnes up on this very stage with me. “

Oh no. Definitely no. Not in a million years. No w—

“ Because this one’s a duett. “

Her eyes meet his across the way, shining with amusement, mischief, affection. Even across the dimly lit roof, her sunshine smile seems to light up the entire night.

“ I’m not doing it, “ Bucky says and shakes his head as Robin slides up to his side.

“ C’moooon. “

“ Nope. I probably don’t even know the song. “

It’s like the universe wants to make a fool of him as in just that moment Bill Medley’s voice sounds through the night.

“ I know you know this song. “ Robin says and nudges his side “ come on don’t make her do this by herself. “

“ I — “ he looks at (Y/N) again, with her sunshine smile and those expressive eyes and the buttercream stain on her shirt. And he doesn’t see fear or pain or regret. All he ever sees when he looks at her is happiness and fun and laughter.

“ Ugh. Okay. Alright. “

Cheers follow him as he steps on stage and (Y/N) hands him the second mic. Though it’s supposed to be a duett, (Y/N) doesn’t really care and sings both parts with unfiltered joy and unapologetic passion. And while it takes a moment for him to warm up to it, Bucky can’t help but let her enthusiasm light a spark in him too and by the time the pre-chorus hits he joins her in singing their hearts out.

“ You're the one thing I can't get enough of. So I'll tell you something. This could be looooooove “

New York comes alive with the promise of a better tomorrow. One where Bucky feels like he belongs. To a place or a group of friends or a person. A tomorrow where he can laugh with a pretty girl, have food fights in a parking lot, and sing some silly song at the top of his lungs.

Maybe the song isn’t all wrong. Maybe he’s having the time of his life. And maybe, just maybe, he owes it to (Y/N).

Taglist // if you want to be added or taken off just message me :) //:

@zaynyierulez - @je-like-you - @dracoxxyoflam - @jackiehollanderr - @majo240820 - @kay-gilles -@booksb4looksstuff - @jckie94 - @charmed-asylum - @shawnie--jo - @yllwtaxi - @tailsoflightning - @giuliarogers - @mangoogirl - @gerim-1995 - @elen-alambil - @threeminutesoflife - @writeroutoftime - @buckybarn3s - @rosaline-black - @kenziekugler22 - @vghz82

[organic-guacamole]

episode 210 here we go

awww seb doing the intro

congratulations to milky white and her baby chocolate milk😌

seb is so funny

but seriously, clean up that milk fast or else it will smell so bad in there....

was that Lauryn just randomly doing cartwheels? idk any theatre kids irl but that seems like it's a common thing...

is it just me or has ms Jenn been getting more harsh to Ricky and Seb mainly-

like what did they do to her

no because I actually snorted with laughter at the "you came back" WHAT IS THAT VOICE-

AND THE MASK OMG

yeah so my throat hurts now

I'm dying over here

KOURTNEY'S FACE

SAME GIRL SAME

Ricky's fake death got the whole place in tears /s

he looks like an asthmatic walrus

Seb's on piano, I love

we all know if he was the beast we'd all actually be crying✋

ok but I listen to Julia's version of home on Spotify when I want to cry-

right so gimme a second

is Ricky scratching his face.....while he's dying?

"belle i-" *flop*

round of applause to Ashlyn for trying to make Ricky's earthworm seizure look less.... yknow

Kourtney's just dying there

WAIT IS THAT NATALIE

did she really just disappear for 9 episodes just to come back and stare dramatically into the camera

WAIT SCRATCH THAT SHES HERE TO MURDER ASHLYN AND RICKY

oh so Ricky's wearing a gay shirt now too

so that's the real reason why Rini broke up, see y'all next season when Gini and caswen become canon /j

wait that was a long intro scene-

what was that look Carlos-

TALK TO MY BOY OR ELSE

carlos' run is so funny to me

therapist Ashlyn to the rescue

"that is...super" son you good?

ms Jenn call Benjamin, he would willingly put his loved ones on a rocket and blast them into Venus for you....

maybe

"I don't want you kids to be disappointed" girl you do realise you're the one that's most invested in this?

"a smooth opening night" wasn't there just 1 show though-

like their opening night was closing night too

"I think I was Troy at one point" PLEASE THATS THE MOST ACCURATE DESCRIPTION OF THE SEASON 1 FINALE

me Jenn looks like a serial killer during that clap and I'm lowkey scared for zacky

"I have notes"

oo if you're taking suggestions, lemme get my list

"mother is freaking out" uhhhhhh

right....'mother"

"is everyone sitting down?"

*looks around awkwardly*

*big red slowly sits*

"no..."

please seb was the only one sitting-

does that mean Carlos looked at Seb as soon as he walked in and assumed that everyone else was sitting too or am I a seblos clown🤡

"is this about the transformation"

WOW MAYBE OT IS RICKY

WOW HES A DETECTIVE FOR FIGURING THAT OUT SO QUICK🤩

YO WHY IS NATALIE HERE-

she just shows up when it's convenient? is she gonna be at the sleepover too?

Seb's heavy swallow after Carlos shouts at him makes me so sad

"I never learned how to lie but I figure if I keep my mouth closed, I can't tell the truth" *nods and smiles at Nini when she asks*

why are they casually standing up all over the pizza shop, just sit at a big table and talk instead of blocking passageways and blocking off at least 6 tables-

"how about I invite myself" WHY DO PEOPLE ALWAYS FEEL THE NEED TO INVITE THEMSELVES TO ASHLYN'S HOUSE-

YOU CAN ASK BUT JUST FORCE YOUR WAY IN?

so Cash Caswell has a bigger house than... Dennis Caswell.... who would've thought

ah yes there's the good old EJ 1.0

Nini: "boys vs girls"

Gina: *looks devastated and glances longingly at EJ*

way to be inconspicuous

"but north high should be" *cracks her knuckles in the most uncomfortable way*

good for Ashlyn for getting more confident though

oo bossy big red

"i get bossy around the power tools"

is that why Ashlyn was holding up the drill in episode 8 orrrr 🤠

oh

Lily, leave him alone please

she's literally not blinking, is that what makes her creepy?

the diss at big red and his face afterwards is priceless

isn't that similar to what Gina's mom said to her in season 1? hmmmm

but seriously please don't try to redeem lily, let us have a character to hate, or to love because they're evil.

not everyone's a good guy.

"im not liked here and I don't know what to do"

let antoine finish his salad and it'll fix everything

"hug emoji" *gags*

y'all realize Lily's literally 14?

why is she calling a 16/17 year old from another school for personal advice-

"he gets weird around tools"

I shouldn't be laughing so hard

"deja vu maybe?" awkward silence

I'm dying here I love EJ so so so so much

"where's seb"

*cuts to seb being held hostage hoping that they'd notice he's missing and go look for him*

"don't ask"

"oh ok"

"100% real faux fur" as you should queen

sponsored by target

Kourtney is singlehandedly saving the entire show.

Seb making finger guns make me happier than it should

why is this kinda making me want to have a co-ed sleepover with my non-existent theatre friends

YES YOU DO NEED TO TALK/SING TO SEB CARLOS THANK YOU FOR KNOWING THAT

wait what-

you haven't talked to him all WEEK-

Carlos are you stupid /hj

Benjamin is so adorable I can't

he turned around to come back for her instead of going home. you're "what do you want Jenn🙄X act isn't fooling anyone Benjamin 🙃

10101

1+4+16= 21st?

they placed 21st?

or do I just not remember how to convert to base ten

GIRL DON'T BE RUDE TO HIM, HE'S GONNA SAVE YALL

no ms Jenn, the kids are not eccentric 35 year olds.

aww sebby

is he thinking that Carlos is only with him cuz he's the only other openly gay guy at school-

son you are a perfect little bean don't put yourself down

yes they all ship portwell as they should.

they'll be throwing risotto at the wedding.

not the chocolates. stop there are no chocolates. please stop I'm dying.

Gina you don't have to explain yourself to her

it was a misunderstanding and it's in the past

why is Ashlyn still laughing-

exactly it wasn't a big deal please just move on Nini

Kourtney really be out here saving everything

WHY IS ASHLYN STILL LAUGHING

why do I feel like when Gina finally told Ash about it, she didn't think it was that funny but wanted to feel included in the inside joke so now she brings it up randomly to show that she's in on it....I totally don't do that...

"idk, the farmer type" oh son...

Ashlyn and big red are just spilling the secrets back and forth huh?

OOO EJ AND GINA SITTING IN A TREE K-I-S-S-I-

cmon guys don't look at me like that-

"she is the best" and "we're buddies" don't sound right together

"pretty boy" "sweet boy" best ways to describe EJ

I love him.

and aw he's scared of rejection so he'll hold back just to keep her happy and not awkward how sweet

is Ricky wondering if letting her go(literally his song from last episode) was the best thing he did for Nini because he doesn't feel like it now? hmmm this is getting good

why is everyone so invested in Kourtney and Howie's relationship

PACK UP THE LAZY RICKY THING

oh yes Benji, that's exactly what she's doing

she couldn't follow her dream or whatever so now she's using the kids to gain some of the success she craves. why else would she have that massive hsm poster with her name on it in huge letters in her office.

just casually grab his hand with both your hands and stare at him creepily 🥰

ship jennzzara y'all

the first bump was a missed opportunity to do the baymax "falalala" as a reference to the fact that they watched big hero six while committing arson✋

wait so big red and EJ just left Ricky in the basement and now Ricky invited Carlos when they're supposed to be at the stage?

help no Ricky looks like he's about to tell Carlos he likes him (I know it's about writing the song for seb but still, look at his body language and tell me it doesn't look like that)

Ricky is so mature about this, he really just wants Nini to be happy even though he's hurting-

baby you deserve love, maybe Nini isn't the one for you but don't say you don't deserve it

why does he keep adding bro to the end like he doesn't know how to address Carlos

PLEASE CARLOS HAVING TO ADDRESS THE BRO THING

"let's write a song when we have like 45 minutes to get to the place and help our friends possibly win $50000 at the show in 2 weeks"

"can you hit a high C?"

"that's like the bottom of my range"

why am I laughing

this is so cool to see friendship interactions that we don't normally get to see

Nini why are you being like this-

Gina did nothing wrong??

I saw that, EJ and Gina being the only ones going in the same direction👀

right so obviously Kourtney's waiting until after the menkies to get back with Howie just in case he really is just using her as a way in to east high... obviously... right?

CARLOS

OK ITS COMING GET READY YALL

Why is portwell so awkward all of a sudden

OMG EJ

OMG GINA SAY YES or not, do what you want.

the way she doubts that EJ would genuinely ask so she has to make sure it's not Ashlyn behind it

OH

THE "NOT THAT I KNOW OF"

LIKE WHAT GINA SAID TO JACK ABOUT EJ BEING HER BOYFRIEND

GUYS THEY'RE SOULMATES

I want risotto now please

THEY'RE SO SWEET AND ADORABLY AWKWARD ITS LIKEEK LITTLE KIDS

OOOOOOO what is this place that seblos is in, looks fancy....and secluded

oh wait no Ricky's just standing there

wait is it the bomb shelter

it looks so good what

HSKAGSJAGAJAGWISGSKAUASBWKSVAIWBAISBQKSHIQBWOABWOABDOQBZIQBAIAQBSIWBQISVQKSIANSGOQBSAISBKASBKWBAIABQOSBBSJAHAJAVAJSBAJHSKAHSJAHAJAJAAJAHHHHHHHH

@youranxiousnerd ARE YOU OK?

CUZ IM NOT OK

LOOK AT SEBBY'S FACE

LOOK AT HOW ADORABLE IT IS

THE LYRICS ARE KILLING ME

SEBLOS IS KILLING ME

I AM DEAD

PLEASE SEND HELP

I like to imagine that Frankie and Joe practiced this in their apartment and just had a blast with it.

or maybe that Frankie practiced in secret like what Joe did for the climb

OH THE SUITS

THATS WHERE THAT CLIP IN THE PROMO WAS FROM

AWWW SEBBY'S SO CUTE

HE'S A LITTLE MARSHMALLOW

they're still so awkward with the dance I cant

let's appreciate Frankie's voice though

this episode really was made just for the seblos and portwell stans and you gotta love it

BIG RED GET OUT

WHY DOES HE ALWAYS DO THIS

Seb's little "yeah" IS ADORABLE

you can't tell me that wouldn't have been the best time for them to say I love you....IF FREAKIN BIG RED WASN'T THERE

ok but wait Ricky needs more hugs like that, look at his face

the boy needs love

"bro" please don't let Ricky and Carlos go back to not talking because their friendship is amazing

EJ laughing at Ricky sounding like a cat coughing up a furball is so funny to me

RICKY'S FLOP GETS ME EVERYTIME

I knew it was too good to be true

ok so Ricky's dead, next in line please

this episode was so short but I love it so much. this is what I signed up for for season 2✋

[ill-be-your-honey-bri]

Call Me

I honestly am not a hundred percent sure where this fic had developed from but I thought it was an interesting plot that could have been manipulated many ways. and of course your girl went put smut mode on this one. 

That being said, the only warnings I have for you is smut, smut, smut, and some more smut. 

Don’t forget to like, repost, comment. You feed back means everything to me and I love seeing what you all like and don't fancy. 

Please enjoy and all my love,

I present to you, Escort Harry.

You were sitting at your dinette on the balcony of your penthouse, exceptionally frustrated. Sipping on your now cold coffee and pulling a cigarette from the gold case that was housing it. You lit the end with the matching gold lighter, slamming it on the table as you inhaled the nicotine to calm your nerves. You expelled the smoke from your lungs with an exaggerated sigh before picking up your phone to re-evaluate the email you just received.

Ms. Y/L/N,

You are cordially invited to the annual Forbes fundraiser for young entrepreneurs, blah blah blah…

Being that you own your own major company that has been featured in Forbes, blah blah blah.

We are expecting your attendance along with your plus one…

A plus one…

Well you are fucked now, aren’t you? You couldn’t remember the last time you had a ‘plus one’. You, this woman, fiercely independent, who built a company from the ground up on your own, and now you are expected to have a date to a fundraiser that you are being forced to go to.

You did the only thing you could think of at that moment.

You pull up Claudia’s number in your contacts, closing your silk robe over your nightgown while you put the phone to your ear and inhale the last puff from your cigarette before stamping it out in the marble ashtray.

The phone rings as you walk through the French doors from your balcony into your dining room, taking the last sip of your coffee before placing your mug on the dark mahogany dining room table.

“Hello, Y/N. To what do I owe the pleasure on this lovely morning at, fuck me, five forty?”

“Thank fucking god you’re awake!”

“Well, I wasn’t but —”

“Did you get that Forbes email too?” You put your phone on speaker while you pulled the email up for the millionth time that morning.

“I did,” Claudia said around a yawn.

“What is this shit with a fucking plus one? When has that ever been a requirement for these things?!”

You could hear her rustling around her bed, “I’m sure some man put it together and wanted to make sure everyone and the pope saw his new arm candy.”

“It’s ridiculous! Some of us don’t have time to have a ‘plus one’!” You sat on your suede sectional, curling your bare feet under your bum. Your long haired black cat jumped up and cuddled into your lap, both melting into comfort.

“I lay claim to Derek, he already said he would go with me.”

You began to stroke your cat’s ear, “Yeah well, you’re fucking Derek, so…”

“I can’t help that your assistant is young and hot, chickee. And so fucking good in bed…” Claudia began to stretch, letting out a moan.

“Thanks for that. Now what the hell am I supposed to do?”

“Don’t you have any friends? Second cousins?”

You stopped your petting, your fur baby giving out a little mew in protest, “First of all, ew. No family. Second of all, I don’t have time for friends. I have you because we have worked together for years.” You let out a frustrated sigh and went back to petting the angel on your lap. “What the fuck am I going to do, Claud?”

You could hear Claudia clunking around her kitchen, attempting to make her latte, cursing at her espresso maker. “Why not hire someone?”

You stopped your petting again, Lady getting annoyed and deciding to jump off your lap. “What do you mean, hire someone?”

“You know,” Claudia hissed after burning her tongue on her hot beverage, “like one of those sexy male escorts. You pay them and they are a nice piece of jewelry for the night.”

“Where do you come up with this shit?”

“That old bag that is always at these events, donates a shit ton and then falls asleep halfway through dinner? You know the one.”

You hum in understanding because you do know the one. Her overuse of minks and emeralds at every event, her hackneyed Chanel No. 5. Oh, and her dentures fell into her champagne flute last year. Yeah, that one.

“Do you really think that the strapping young hunk with her is actually her significant other?”

“I thought that it could be her grandson, maybe.”

“Oh hell no! She hired the boy! I hope she got her money’s worth, if you know what I’m saying...”

Claudia began to laugh as you started to make gagging noises. You sat there, thinking of any other option and you really couldn’t think of one.

“Let me do my research and I will email you the links. But babe, relax. We will figure something out, yeah? You can take my little brother if you need to.”

“No offense Claud, but I don’t really want to present to an event with a 17 year old and be labeled a pedophile… Thank you for helping me, truly.”

“Any time, sweets. Now go mastuarbate before you get ready for work. Got a big meeting today and need you to be calm and relaxed for it.”

“Jesus, Claud!”

“See you soon!” Claudia blowing you a kiss over the line before she hangs up.

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

You walked into your office with your go to Starbucks order in hand. Derek was sitting on the couch that was off to the side of your office, set up as a little meeting area with a set of armchairs and a coffee table in the center. Derek was sipping on his green smoothie and setting up your agenda for the day.

“I don’t know how you drink that shit. You’re basically grazing in the pasture,” as you take another sip of your overpriced corporate beverage.

“It is an energy boosting smoothie, thank you very much. It’s from the local smoothie place around the corner, it’s family owned.”

“Well good for you bud, but for me, it is about convenience and there are at least 50 Starbucks stores from home to here. A beautiful marketing plan if you ask me.” You smiled before taking another sip then placing it in its rightful place on your desk as you sit to turn on your computer and start your day. Derek stands up and places your daily planner in front of you.

“You have that big meeting today with the business partners. Claudia said she will be here in half an hour to help prep. And I have a list of escort services for you.” He had a folder in hand extended towards you.

You peered up at him, “Fucking Claudia.”

He began to smile and give a light chuckle, “Fucking Claudia. She never knows when to keep her mouth shut. There are a few men she had picked out as well, said she ‘knows what you like’. She will email you the links to their profiles.”

And sure enough, you get an email from her with an eggplant emoji as the subject of the email. You quickly exit the email, pulling up the documents you need for the meeting.

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

After getting home from dealing with arrogant, self centered pricks in meetings all day, you knew you needed to treat yourself to a relaxing bubble bath.

You ignored dinner, going straight to your wine rack and grabbed the first bottle handy. You filled the glass and began sipping at the sweet nectar as you were walking to the master bedroom. You padded your way to the en-suite to begin filling the claw foot bathtub. You added some vanilla rose bath melts and let the aroma fill your lungs before returning back to your bedroom.

You step into your walk-in closest to begin undressing, putting your jewelry in their rightful place and hanging the garments that need to go to the dry cleaners. After stripping, you throw on your silk robe and pull your hair up before walking back to the bathroom. You grab your phone and wine along the way, finding your ‘bubble bath’ playlist, which you connected to the Bluetooth that you had installed in your bathroom.

You put your wine and phone on the shelf next to the tub and hung the silk robe before melting into the warm embrace of the milky water. Lady had hopped up onto the counter to keep you company.

You close your eyes, take a deep breath and lean your head on to the bath pillow before slowly exhaling the air from your lips. You were finally starting to relax when the incessant thought about the fundraiser reared it’s nasty head at the forefront of your mind.

You look to Lady, who is curled up on the sink counter, the sound of Ol’ Blue Eyes lulling her to sleep. You take another deep breath before grabbing your phone and opening up that email.

Reinhardt, Claudia

Subject: 🍆

So, this company seems the most legit and had the best reviews on multiple sites. Overall, had the best looking dudes too. I picked out a few that I thought that you would like, you know, best friends and all. I will only be slightly offended if you don’t pick one of my gentleman callers.

Good luck chickee! xo

You took another sip of wine before opening the links to these ‘gentleman callers’ pages.

Travis; he was cute in a ‘use to be a skater’ kind of way. Had some muscle, a decent smile. Age, 26. Perfect. Height, 5’3”. Well, that won’t work. You close out his link and go to the next one.

Bret; could be a model with the blue eyes, black hair look and a jaw that could cut glass. You sit up slightly, scrolling down further into his profile. Age; 19. Fuck no. You quickly close the link and go to the next one.

You go through a few more and you begin to feel hopeless. They were all good looking but none of them sparked the desire to take them to an event where you will be spending endless hours with them.

You were officially going to give up until you saw that there was only one link left.

Harry; this guy can’t be real. Beautiful green eyes, silky curly hair, a really cute smile with dimples. The perfect amount of muscle. You held your breath as you continued to read his profile.

Age; 24. You could handle that.

Height; 6 foot. Perfect.

Reason why you joined this company; Honestly, I’m getting my masters in business at Columbia University. A scholarship and work study can only pay so much of the tuition. So he is smart and can talk about business if needed.

What can you bring to the table for your date; I’m personable and will make friends with anyone in a room. I’m the perfect date for a work related event because I can talk about anything. If you chose me, I promise, you won’t regret it.

You took the last bit of your wine as your finger hovered over the message icon. “I better not regret this…”

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

Harry just got home to his rundown studio apartment from his day working in the college library. He threw his backpack on his mismatching dining set before striding into the kitchen to heat up leftover Chinese. He threw the container into the microwave and began to strip on his way to his bed. He pulled on a pair of old grey sweatpants and went back into the kitchen to retrieve his food and a beer.

He climbed into his bed and turned on the TV, throwing on Family Guy before digging into his food. He got up at one point to get his phone that he left in his jacket, where he couldn’t remember where he threw it.

After finding it, he climbs back into bed and continues to stuff his cheeks with lo mein. He unlocks his phone to see he has some texts, a few emails, a bunch of messages on his Tinder app that he has been ignoring and a new message on his work email. Not the library job, but the job that no one knows about.

He gets emails regularly on his work email. Usually older women who want to make a statement at an event. Like “I’m still young. Look at the young man with me.” He doesn’t mind it because they pay a shit ton for him to just sit there and look pretty, but it gets boring. He would rather work overnight at the library and he is pretty sure it is haunted.

He opens the message and he sees your name. He drops his Chinese container into his lap, cursing at the grease stains that are now on his sweats.

He knows you. He knows you very well. He has written multiple research papers on your work, how you built a company on your own. He’s even rubbed one out to you a few times because your so fucking beautiful and unbelievebly smart.

Harry,

I apologize for how this message reads; I have never done such a thing before.

I have an event for a Forbes fundraiser and we are required to bring a plus one. Unfortunately, I do not have one and need to go to such lengths as to hiring one.

I have read your profile, multiple times if we are being honest, and I feel that you are best suited for the situation.

If you accept my offer, I will pay you handsomely and will schedule you with my tailor to get a suit for the event. Anything involved will be taken care of by me, you will just need to present by my side.

Please let me know if you accept my offer in a timely fashion.

All the best, Y/N Y/L/N

Harry’s mouth was gaping like a fish. You, you, need a date to an event and you asked him. He must be dreaming. He rereads the email a million times and tries to compose himself enough to respond.

Ms. Y/L/N,

It would be an honor to be by your side. Please let me know where I need to be and when and I promise, I will not let you down.

Harry

A few moments after sending the email he got notifications of events being added to his calendar. The first thing was his appointment with your tailor tomorrow morning.

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

Harry was standing outside the tailor’s shop, being a few minutes early and the door was locked. He could hear the clicking of heels and heard a familiar voice. You had presented at Colombia for seminars multiple times, considering it was your Alma Mater. He knew that voice because he attended every seminar that you were a speaker at.

You had your phone in one hand with your designer purse in the crook of the arm that was holding your phone. You had a tray with a few coffees in the other hand. He thought you looked powerful and beautiful in your burgundy blazer with a black tank top tucked into your houndstooth black and white trousers. A gold Gucci belt pulling the whole look together.

You smiled at him as you told whomever you were talking to that you had to go and that you will call them back. He about melted into a puddle when he heard you call his name.

He nodded with a smile while you put your phone in your purse and coordinated the drinks so that you were able to extend a hand to shake Harry’s. Your hand was so soft, he never wanted to let go.

“Thank you for being able to do this so quickly. The event is this weekend and I wanted to make sure that your suit was done in time.” You were smiling at him the whole time, like you have been friends for a lifetime.

“It’s no problem at all.” He smiled back as you took in a good look at him, seeming to be pleased with your choice. He unconsciously stood up straighter and clasped his hands behind his back as you turned to press the buzzer of the store front.

The door unlocked and he quickly grabbed the door to allow you to walk in first, as you gave your thanks. You strutted in like you owned the place and Harry could feel his cock twitch in his jeans watching you own the room.

A beautiful person was standing there waiting for you with gorgeous red flowing hair. They looked angelic with their light and soft features.

“Harris darling, this is Harry. You will be working with him on finding the perfect suit and tailoring it like the artist you are.” You sat on the white sofa, handing out coffees to the people around you, including Harry.

“I didn’t know how you liked your coffee, so I got it black but I have cream and sugar if you need it.” You pulled out the little paper bag the cafe had given you with the coffee fixings from your purse.

“Black is perfect, thank you.”

You smiled up at him as you handed him his coffee, he gladly took a seat next to you as Harris handed the two of you their portfolio.

“These are what I have in the shop now and the fabrics in the back are what I have at home, if you would prefer one of those.”

Harry scooted a little closer to get a better look that you quickly took notice of, so you moved so that the portfolio sat on both of your laps while your thighs touched. Harry’s breath hitched when he felt the contact but quickly brushed it off to continue looking at the beautiful suits.

“Is my dress done by chance? I would love to do the final fitting today as well.”

“Of course. I also have a few ideas of suits for you Harry that would go with the dress. Not so matchy-matchy, but to make sure you don’t clash.”

“Let’s try those, hm?” You looked at Harry with a sweet smile. All he could do was gaulp and nod.

You put the portfolio on the table in front of you before taking your blazer off and laying it delicately on the arm of the couch. You stood up and began to wander around, looking at Harris’ fall collection.

“I can’t wait to see these on the models. Absolutely stunning, Harris.”

“Wouldn’t have been able to do it without you, my love.” You smiled as you continued to explore.

Harry couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were so ethereal in your movements, so effortless. You seemed so gentle and he has only been around you for a few moments. He has always known you as a strong willed, fierce, badass woman. But now, he sees you as delicate porcelain. Not in a way that you could easily be broken, he doesn’t think that could ever be the case. But in the way that you need to be taken care of and adored fondly.

Harry was pulled out of his trance when Harris returned with an armful of suits, calling Harry to the dressing room. Harris helped him with trying them on, all of them being breathtaking.

You had gone into your dressing room with Harris’ assistant helping you put on your gown. You were never one for flash at events, so you asked for a simple black gown with some red detailing, red being your power color. You wore red lipstick or a red pair of heels to every event, so people would be expecting it.

You had walked out as did Harry and he was frozen. The black gown had off the shoulder straps and a sweetheart neckline, showing off your silky decolletage. It had a hip-high slit on your left leg showing off the delicious meat of your thigh, your heels making your legs look even longer. It was form fitting around the torso and hips with the fabric draping beautifully around you, cascading softly around your feet. The bottom of the gown and around the bust was detailed with delicate red stitching, creating a floral design.

And you couldn’t take your eyes off Harry. His suit was the same blood red as your stitching. The floral details of his suit were stitched in black and he had a black button up underneath with the top few buttons undone. Harris had already pinned the suit so it fit him perfectly. His thighs looked strong and thick, his shoulders broad. He was exceptionally handsome.

Harris squealed with how amazing you both looked and you matched without it being obnoxious. Harris walked you to the platform so he could do his final fitting on you. You and Harry couldn’t stop looking at each other in the mirror, the eye contact being strong and unwavering. The only thing that pulled you out of your trance was when Harris called your name to tell you he was done with you.

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

After getting back into your work clothes, you kissed Harris goodbye and Harry shook their hand. You told Harris that Derek will pick up the garments Saturday morning before the event.

Harry held the door open for you and let you walk on to the sidewalk first. You started pulling out your phone to check it, quickly turning off the screen before looking up at Harry.

“Do you need a ride? I walked here from my office but it isn’t far, I can drop you off.” You stood there waiting for a response and he was taking too long for your taste.

“Well come on then, I’ll take you wherever you need to go.” You started walking with a purpose, pulling out your phone again to give Derek a heads up of your plans. Harry quickly jogged to catch up with you.

“Thank you. Um, could you drop me off at campus?” You looked back up and smiled with a nod.

“Of course.”

When you got to the parking garage, you hit your key fob to unlock your car. You had a nice black Audi that you gracefully climbed into. Harry was treating it like a work of fragile art, not wanting to touch anything. You noticed that he was admiring your car, causing you to smile. “Are you a car kind of guy?”

“Um, yeah. I suppose. I know a pretty car when I see one.”

This caused you to giggle. “I may have another event for you then. One of my colleagues has vintage cars that he submits to a car show, he asks me to go every year. Maybe I’ll go if I have you by my side.”

Harry beamed at the idea, “I would like that.”

“It’s in the Hamptons so I would have to steal you for a couple of days. I have a beach house there. That’s if you don’t mind, of course.”

Harry had the opportunity to go to the Hamptons to spend a couple of days with you? How could he say no to that fantasy.

“That sounds great, just tell me when and I’m there.”

You started your drive to Colombia’s campus when you felt the need to talk about the one factor of this you had yet to approach.

“How would you like me to pay you? I can write a check or direct deposit if you would like.” You give a quick glance over to him while at a red light and you see him adjusting in his seat.

“Um, whatever is easier for you.”

“I think it will be more discreet if I direct deposit. I will give you my number and you can text me your bank information. I will be sure to delete it and would never do anything other than deposit money to you.”

He nodded in agreement, not that he was worried that you would take money from him. Not that he had a whole lot of money to his name.

You pulled up next to the campus and asked Harry for his phone to put in your number. “Whenever you get the chance, text me the information.”

“I will, thanks.” He stepped out of the car, slung his backpack over his shoulder and began to walk to campus.

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

Harry got home and relaxed for a bit, wrapping his head around the day. He got fitted for a gorgeous designer suit, rode in an Audi, and got invited for a long weekend in the Hamptons, all by the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.

He finally sat up and began to dig through his piles of papers on his counter to find his bank information. He quickly texted it to you, double checking the numbers were typed out correctly. He set the phone down and went to hop into the shower.

When he stepped out with a towel around his waist and another in hand roughly drying his hair, he picked up his phone and saw a notification from his bank.

Direct deposit of $5,000.

He stared at the screen for an undetermined amount of time before going to his contacts and calling you.

“Hello, this is Y/N.”

“That is way too much, you don’t have to do that, please just —”

“Harry, it is my money and I do as I please. You are doing me a huge favor and you will be with me for a full evening. Plus, you have to deal with a bunch of assholes, it’s the least I can do. Now, don’t ever question my decisions again, okay? My assistant will drop off your suit on Saturday morning. Please text me your address so he can do so. Have a good rest of your day.”

The line went dead, Harry was still in shock. He has never seen four digits in his bank account before and it happened in the blink of an eye. He decided to text you his address and asked no more questions.

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

Harry was pulling on the perfectly tailored suit jacket and ran his hand through his hair one last time before spritzing on his cologne when there was a knock on his door. He walked over to open it, seeing a man in a black suit that he has never seen before. The man gave Harry a nod and he began to walk to the stairs. Harry quickly grabbed his keys and phone before following the unnamed, eerily quiet man.

When Harry reached outside, there was a black SUV with dark tinted windows. The uncanny man opened the back door, exposing you looking down at your phone. Harry gasped when you looked up at him, lips painted red, flashing him a dazzling smile.

“Well, don’t you look handsome.” You scooted over so Harry could climb in. He honestly couldn’t help himself, but he had to stare at you. You had your legs crossed, left leg over your right, exposing the full skin of both of your legs due to the slit on the left side. His mouth began to water looking at the soft glow of your legs.

“So, I apologize in advance if some wives try to take you home with them tonight. Those old hags probably haven’t been screwed properly in ages since their husbands waste their viagra on some girls who want their money.”

Harry raised his eyebrows at you with a smile growing across his lips, “Why do I feel like you're not kidding?”

“Oh,” you let out a scoffed laugh, “because I’m not.” You look back up from your phone to gaze at Harry, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” You send him a wink, causing him to blush.

He beams back at you, “My hero.”

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

As you enter through the doors of the banquet hall, arm laced through Harry’s, you begin to get the urge for a cigarette.

You see previous partners to your company; ones that moved on to bigger and better things, others who screwed you over and you cut ties with. You see the old men that hit on you and the wives that stare daggers into you. They all told you that you weren’t going to make it and you proved them all wrong. Though some think you did it with a little help from what is between your legs or your harlot red lips.

You really need a cigarette.

You see Claudia standing across the way, holding out two champagne flutes for the both of you. You gently tug Harry with you, taking in how he is observing the room. He has an air of professionalism to him that can only come naturally; he’ll be a great business man.

“Knew you would pick this one! Had to save the best for last.” Claudia handed you both your bubbling spirit and put her hand out for Harry to shake, introducing herself and Derek.

“I need a cigarette and a stronger drink than this to get through the night.” You quickly downed the liquid, placing the glass on a nearby table, excusing yourself to the terrace.

Harry followed you out a few moments later, holding a rocks glass out to you. You smiled up at him reaching for the glass and taking a sip before handing it back to him so you could take a long drag. “Thank you.”

He leaned over the banister of the terrace to look out over the city, taking his own sip where your red lips had left their stain. You found it slightly erotic how he licked his lips after touching your mark, as if he had decided to take his sip at that specific part of the glass on purpose.

“So tell me, shall I be talking you up in there? Should be easy for me.”

You reach for the glass he is rolling between his fingers, taking another sip, “And why is that?”

He took the cigarette from between your fingers, admiring the vibrant stain before placing it between his own lips, slightly squinting his eyes as he took a drag. “I’m quite infatuated with you. I’ve followed your work from the start, wrote some papers on your business plans.”

You raised an eyebrow and watched him, studying his features that softened as the left side of his lip began to upturn, indenting his cheek to an adorable dimple. “To be completely honest? I started to follow you because I was terribly attracted to you. I saw you on the front of a magazine and…” he pursed his lips out with a smirk before he chuckled at himself. He looked up at you with his boyish charm before he stood back up and took his drink from you again.

“Oh, Harry, thought about me when you were lonely?” You gave him a false pout that grew into a smile.

He finished his drink before looking back at you, “Still do.” His smile and eye contact were never wavering as he stamped out your cigarette for you and took your hand to return inside.

Harry guided you to your table, hand on your lower back before pulling out your chair for you. He sat to the left of you next to another gentleman, who you had no idea what his business was. His wife was glaring at you as Harry was talking to the man, though the man was more focused on the cleavage exposed by your dress. Harry reached his hand to you, gripping onto the skin of your exposed thigh.

You could audibly hear the man whimper and his wife scoff as Harry’s thumb began to caress your skin. You could see Claudia’s smile grow as she takes a sip of her drink, watching Harry become possessive of you before her eyes. Derek caught her attention by kissing her cheek as the head speaker began his announcement for awards and donations.

As the night came to an end, you were thankful to have Harry at your side. He was holding his own, taking to other businessmen as if he had been conversing with them his whole life. He was able to talk business plans, discuss what he was currently learning in classes, he even gave a few men advice on future endeavors. To be completely honest, you were aroused by the power Harry held as he was working the room.

Harry had his arm wrapped around your waist as you walked to your awaiting SUV, holding your hand as you climbed in and he followed suit. You let out a content sigh, enjoying the silence in the car.

Harry reached across you, grabbing the back of your knee to pull both legs to rest on his lap. He gently unclasped the buckle of your heel, slowly removing it before placing it on the floor by his feet. He did the same with your other foot and began to rub his thumb up the arches.

You let out a satisfied hum at the pressure soothing your aching feet, resting your head on the window as you watched Harry focused on his work in hand.

“You did amazing tonight, Harry. Thank you.”

He looked up at you with his dimples on display, making the tightness you have felt in your stomach all night constrict even more. He looked proud, as he should.

“It was a lot of fun. Learned a lot.”

You smiled back at him, slowly blinking your eyes closed. “That old colleague I was telling you about with the vintage car show, Jack, he asked if we would like to go. It’s in six weeks if you are interested.”

“I’d love to.”

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

In the six weeks since the fundraising event, Harry had joined you on multiple smaller level events, including some work dinners and client matters.

His closest had grown exponentially in the six weeks, whether it was a suit for an event that you had purchased for him or he had found something designer he liked and he bought it with the money from his ever growing bank account, thanks to you. He has found pleasure in Gucci, also thanks to you. He has found that the luxuries he now has in his life was all in your taste, subconsciously wanting to please you.

You would comment on his attire he has purchased without your assistance, always beaming when you talk about what line it was from and how well it suited Harry. He loves the feelings he gets when you praise him.

He was packing his bag for the weekend trip to the Hamptons, having just gone shopping for some outfits for the occasion. He had also bought some things to spruce up his studio apartment, making it look more put together and modern rather than a frat boy's bedroom. Your taste even makes its appearance in his decor.

You had knocked on his door, waiting with coffee in hand for the both of you. He opened the door with a wide smile before allowing you to enter the apartment. He had his clothes neatly folded on the bed, waiting to be placed into the leather duffle bag you got him for the occasion, another ‘thank you’ on your part.

You sat on his bed, sipping your coffee while watching him put his toiletries in the matching leather shaving bag, which was also a praise gift. He was dressed in grey sweat shorts and a simple black T-shirt with his short locks held out of his face by a red bandana. He was still barefoot walking around while he was finishing up.

“Do you have the word ‘big’ tattooed on your toe?” Your ever present smile grew as you leaned closer to get a look.

Harry chuckled, scratching his jaw “I may have been drunk and did it myself.”

You shook your head with a giggle of your own before taking another sip of your coffee, leaning back in Harry’s bed.

Harry was trying to will away the semi he was sporting. He had never seen you in lounge clothes and the black leggings you were wearing were doing crazy things to Harry’s body. You were wearing your Columbia Alumni shirt, tied in a knot at the waist to show off the curves of your hips that the leggings were hugging. Your hair was up messily, making Harry want to pull it down from its restraint so that he could muss it up with his own fingers. Your Clubmaster Ray-Bans sat on top of your head and your skin looked fresh and dewy with no makeup on.

Harry took a moment in his kitchen when he was getting his hydro flask to take a breath and squeeze himself through his shorts to take away some of the ache. He’s not sure how he is going to handle a whole weekend if this is what it will be like.

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

You stopped at a local gas station before leaving the city. Harry offered to fill your tank while you went into the shop to get some snacks for the trip, getting your essential Swedish Fish and Redbull while Harry asked for gummy bears and orange juice.

Harry was already sitting in the passenger seat when you returned, him now having his Wayfarer Ray-Bans on; he only bought them when you said he would look good in them. He was playing on his phone and perked up when you slid in the drivers side.

You handed him his goodies while you promptly opened your bag of candy to set between your thighs and cracked open your can of liquid energy. You began your hour and a half drive to your beach house in the Hamptons. You had your favorite Spotify playlist playing through your speakers, both of you humming along.

“Want some?” Harry looked up at you confused as to what you were talking about. You smiled as you glanced over before returning your gaze to the road. “Some fishies, help yourself.” You nodded down to the bag between your thighs as you took another sip of your drink.

“Thanks.” Harry reached over, dipping his hand between your thighs that you involuntarily widened when his hand approached. He looked up at your face when he slowly dipped his fingers into the bag to grip a few red fish, reaching for the few that were closest to the apex of your thighs. He could feel your heat at his knuckles as he pulled a few gummies out, sticking his tongue out as the candy approached his lips.

You adjusted in your seat, shocked that you were turned on by a man grabbing and eating a candy. Then again, it was Harry. He has been torturing you with his good looks since you clicked on his link.

The ride was uneventful for the rest of the time, Harry watching as expensive homes, luxurious boutiques and restaurants whiz by as you enter the Hamptons and make your way toward the beach.

You pulled up to your beach house, clicking the garage door button on your phone before parking. You grab your trash and put them in the appropriate receptacles that you keep in your garage. Harry was already grabbing your bags out of the car, allowing you to unlock the door freely. You held it open for Harry, stepping into your small mud room, both kicking off your shoes before walking further into the home.

The first view Harry had was of the beach through the windows that filled the wall of your dining room. He walks past the open concept kitchen to go straight to the windows, watching the waves crash on the shore. You open the french doors that lead to your back porch that has stairs that lead down to the sandy beach. You let some fresh air waft in as you go to the kitchen to take stock of what you need to go shopping for.

Harry was still standing at the window with both your bags in hand before you went over to rub his back and grab your bag.

“Come on, I’ll show you your room.” You guide Harry past your open living room to the stairs, leading him up and to the right. “This will be your room. You’ll have your own bathroom and there should be fresh towels in there for you. I’ll be right down the hall if you need anything. I’m going to hop in the shower.”

Harry watched as you walked away, seeing you pull off your T-shirt as you were shutting your bedroom door, briefly exposing your black bralette. Harry ran his hand down his face, feeling the pulse return to his groin. He quickly shut and locked the door before situating himself on his bed, promptly pushing his shorts and briefs down his thighs, reaching for the high end lotion you placed by the bed for guests.

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

Harry had taken his own shower after relieving himself after he made a proper mess on his thighs and hand. He climbed down the stairs to the smell of curry and Elton John playing through the speakers.

“Figured we should eat a proper meal since we haven’t yet today, so I ordered some Thai.”

You both sat on your back porch, enjoying the view as you ate your take out. You chatted about the next day, telling Harry about the car show and what to expect when it comes to Jack.

“He's like that eccentric drunk uncle at the Christmas party that you love but don’t want to deal with.”

You enjoyed each other’s company, watching the sun start to set on the horizon before calling it a night and turning in.

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

After waking up from a restful sleep, Harry got dressed in his running shorts and hoodie, throwing on his running shoes before walking to your room to let you know he was going to go for a run along the beach.

Your door was cracked open slightly, Harry able to see you laying on your bed. He stepped closer to the door, about to push the door open further when he heard an ever present whimper. He wasn’t sure if the noise was due to your sleep, but his question was answered when he looked at you in your detail.

Your legs were spread open, two fingers deep to the knuckle as you were laid open on your comforter. You were pumping into yourself as you had your other hand up under your sleep shirt, groping your breast and rolling your nipple between your fingers.

Harry thought he was dreaming, seeing the delicious sight in front of him. Harry couldn’t help himself but to dip his hand in his shorts to start palming his hardening member. Your whimpers going straight to his cock, the arch of your spine off your bed making his mouth water.

You looked over at your door, eyes barely open, pausing your movements briefly when you saw Harry in the crack of the door. Your eyes trail to see him pumping his hand in his shorts, thinking that you should give him a good show.

He didn’t notice that you had seen him but he did notice that your legs had spread further as you pulled your glistening fingers out of your core to rub them on your clit, causing you to moan louder. You pulled your shirt up completely to expose yourself fully to Harry, all without him knowing that you were aware of his wandering eyes.

Having him watch you work yourself got you to your brink. Your eyes were glued to his pumping which was now frantic, causing you to lose control, snapping your legs shut around your hand as you came undone. You could hear Harry attempt to muffle his grunt as he made a mess of his shorts, causing a blissful smile to grow across your swollen lips. You gently rolled your fingers around your clit, spreading your legs again for Harry to watch as you ease yourself down from your high.

The next time you looked at your door, Harry was gone.

You got out of bed with an annoyed huff, getting a shower before wrapping yourself in your robe to head downstairs to make coffee and a quick breakfast. You grabbed your plate of eggs and toast with your coffee and cigarettes, stepping out on your back porch to enjoy the air while trying to calm your aggravation.

You don’t know why you are annoyed with Harry not making a move on you while you were self pleasing, but you were. You wanted that to be the moment to break down the walls built by the pure sexual tension between you. You knew he wanted you, he had told you he had touched himself to you, and now, you had seen him touch himself to you. You were on the brink of sinking on your knees and pulling him out to prove how much you wanted him too.

Harry climbed up the stairs, all sweaty from his run as you were finishing up your cigarette. He could sense the irritation coming off of you but he wasn’t sure why. Maybe you had caught him and you weren’t happy about it. He would just die if that was the case. He sat down in the chair that wasn’t taken over by your resting feet. He noticed that you were only picking at your breakfast as he untied his shoes and kicked them off so as to not trail any sand inside. He leaned back in his seat, taking a deep breath before pulling his hoodie off, T-shirt coming off with it.

You couldn’t help your mouth watering seeing him now topless and glistening with sweat, watching his chest rise and fall while trying to catch his breath. You sat up and ripped a piece of toast before popping it in your mouth, now refusing to look at him.

“Have a nice run?” You continued to poke at your eggs, acting like you're eating them but you are just trying to occupy your eyes.

“Yeah, it was nice. Been a while since I ran on a beach.”

You hummed at his response before standing up and grabbing your things. “We will be leaving in an hour, Jack wants us to meet him at the country club before the car show.”

Harry nodded at you but you promptly walked inside, ignoring his reply before dropping your dishes in the sink and going to your room to get ready.

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

You knew you were being petty. You knew that he couldn’t read your mind but god you wished he could. You were just finishing your hair when you heard a knock on your bedroom door. You walked over to see Harry clad in red and white gingham trousers and a white button up with the sleeves rolled up, just sheer enough to make the outlines of his black ink. His hair was perfectly slicked back with a few curls having some definition to them. He had a look of cowardice as he tucked his hands in the pockets of his trousers.

“Looking handsome, as always.” He gave you a soft smile at the compliment before fully taking you in. You were in a white knee length sundress that had big roses printed on the fabric. Your one shoulder strap annoyingly falling down, which Harry promptly grazed his fingers against your skin to slide the strap into place.

Harry’s gaze raked back up your frame before looking you in your eyes, “You ready?”

You nodded at him, grabbing your Michael Kors wedges off your bed before walking out of your room ahead of Harry. You made your way to the mud room to switch your purses and to sit on the bench to slip on your shoes.

Harry grabbed your shoes for you, kneeling in front of you, gingerly wrapping his fingers around your ankle to slide your foot into the wedge, pulling the zipper up at the heel. He had done the same to your other foot, this time watching you watch him. He gently placed your foot to the floor before standing up straight and putting his hand out for you to help you up before walking to your car.

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

The car ride was silent, omitting the random questions Harry had regarding the country club and Jack. You adjusted your sunglasses after you had parked, reaching into the back seat to grab your bag. You were about to climb out but Harry gripped your wrist, pausing your motions.

“Y/N…” you looked at him as he had reached to push your sunglasses off your face to look you directly in the eyes. “I’m sorry about this morning, when I saw you. I should have left you in private but I just couldn’t help myself. I needed to see you, need to see you like that. If it ruined any type of relationship we may have, I thoroughly apologize. You should know that I never meant to invade your privacy but… fuck, I just can’t help myself with you. My body takes over when it comes to you and I am so sorry. Please, forgive me?”

You sat there in silence, trying not to smile at how cute Harry was. He was giving you the puppy eyes as his thumb ran over your wrist in gentle circles. You were pondering on how you should approach it; Do you tell him it was no problem? Ignore it and act like nothing happened? Or…

“I only got off because I saw you pump your cock watching me.” You leaned over to kiss his cheek before stepping out of the car to the entrance of the country club.

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

Jack loved Harry. They were chatting it up outside, Jack with a cigar in his mouth and Harry with his mimosa in hand. You were ordering you both another one when Jack’s wife, Sharon, approached you at the bar.

“He’s a looker, sweetheart.” You smiled at her before telling her honestly how you met. Jack and Sharon were always supportive of you. You had been Jack’s intern at his company when you were in undergrad, Jack promptly hiring you when you were getting your masters. He taught you everything you knew and Sharon taught you how to enjoy the finer things in life, including Harry.

“Cut the shit with the escort thing and make him your man. He’s a looker, he’s smart. Jack already adores him and is calling him son. You know how hard it is to please that man.”

You looked back to Harry and Jack, both laughing at one of their dad jokes. Harry looked up to see you looking at him, smiling and twiddling his fingers in a wave. He finished his drink, prompting him and Jack to walk back inside to you girls.

Harry had adjusted the strap of your dress that fell down again and you were handing him a new mimosa, sipping out of your own glass. Harry placed his hand on your lower back, watching you as you engage in the conversation Jack and Sharon were having.

An announcement was made that the fairway was now open for guests to look at the cars. Jack quickly downed his drink before exiting like a kid being allowed free range of a candy store. Sharon promptly followed her husband as Harry guided you to follow, grazing his hand down to your bum to give it a soft rub and light tap.

Harry followed Jack around as he was explaining to Harry all the ins and outs of all the vintage cars on show. What gave them value, their rarity, what he likes and dislikes of each car. Sharon and you following behind, enjoying the sun and the wine slushies you had grabbed from a vendor.

Harry took a particular interest in a white 1966 Mercedes-Benz 230SL, stalking around it to take in the details. He smiled to the owner when they came over to talk to Harry, showing the car with the roof down.

“He’s got good taste. He’s enamored by you and the car.” Jack elbowed your shoulder, causing the strap of your dress to fall again. You looked at him as you adjusted the dress with a smile.

“How can you tell?”

“Well, I can tell he loves the car because that’s how he looks at you, doll.”

You look back to Harry, who is now sitting in the driver's seat, running his hands along the steering wheel. Harry shakes hands with the driver before walking back over to you, grabbing your slushie to take a drink himself.

You look up at him, pushing your sunglasses into your hair to take him in fully. “You like?”

Harry put his hand on your hip, taking another sip of the slushie. “She is a beauty. My dad has something similar but not as pristine.” He looked back over his shoulder to look at the car as his hand continued to rub at your hip.

“She is pretty. Looks like a pearl.” You looked over his shoulder with him to take her in.

Harry kissed the top of your head, handing back your drink before going to follow Jack and Sharon as you sneak off to talk to the owner.

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

You enjoyed your dinner with Jack and Sharon, catching up on your businesses as well as discussed Harry’s future plans. Jack had offered Harry an intern position at his company if Harry was interested.

Jack and Sharon wished you and Harry a good night before you went your separate ways to your cars. Sharon gave you an extra squeeze and told you to “be nice to that boy”, sending you a wink.

You climb into your car to see Harry beaming. “I think they liked me.”

You smiled back at him, “I know they like you. Wouldn't stop coming up to me to tell me how i should keep you around.”

Harry was leaning his head on the headrest to look at you, “Do you want to keep me around?”

“Should I keep you around?” You started your car and began to drive away, Harry still watching your every move. You could see him in the corner of your eye, both of your smiles growing. His hand made its way to your thigh, pushing your skirt up so that his hand could rest on your bare skin. You hummed at the warmth of his palm.

“So you liked when I was watching you?” His hand began to slide further up your dress and your legs had spread further for him, as they tend to do more frequently than not as of late.

“I loved it.”

He hummed at your response, “Do you like being caught? Dirty girl.”

You moaned and moved your left leg so Harry could touch every inch of you, you lifted the skirt of your dress to expose your lace covered core to Harry.

“Want me to finger fuck you here, dirty girl? Right in your car, while you're driving? You’re fucking filthy.”

He started to run his fingers through your folds and you tried your hardest to focus on the road. You weren’t far from your home at this point, trying to stay safe while focusing on Harry’s delicious fingers learning the dips and curves of your core.

“Should I wait to fuck you properly when we get home? Been thinking about it all day.” He unbuckled his seatbelt to get closer to you to nose at your neck. He started to dip his fingers into you as he was kissing any exposed skin.

You finally made it home, abruptly parking your car in the driveway. You undid your seatbelt, promptly taking Harry’s hand that was between your legs to plunge his fingers deeper into you. Your head tipped back as Harry’s fingers hit your favorite spot. Harry quickly made the come hither motion, rubbing his fingertips where you needed him.

“God baby… you’re my dirty girl, huh? Fucking yourself with my fingers.” Your grip tightened around his wrist as he nipped at your jaw. Your thighs began to tighten around Harry’s hand which caused him to remove himself from you. You let out a whine at the empty feeling and the pure desire that was burning in you.

You turn to Harry with lust filled eyes to see him shamelessly suck on each finger that was buried in you individually. “Going to give me a proper taste later. Aren’t you, sweet girl?”

Harry had climbed out of the car, grabbing the keys from you to unlock the door. He began to unbutton his shirt in the mud room as he was kicking off his shoes, you watched with a panting breath, still in the front seat of your car. Harry tucked his hands in the pockets of his trousers, bare chested, and gave you a nod to follow him inside.

When you finally entered your house, Harry was in the kitchen with his head in the refrigerator. He pulled out the container of strawberries and slid them onto the island. He closed the door before turning to lean on the island, popping the container open with a flick of his finger. He grazed the tips of his fingers across each strawberry, deciding which one was the juiciest berry.

“Go get in your shower. I will be there in a moment.” He gripped the stem of the red fruit, tongue grazing it’s flesh before he sunk his teeth in. He made sure to look at you as he licked his lips free of the sweet juice.

You thought that two could play at this game, standing in place as you unzipped your dress and letting it fall freely around your ankles, exposing you in your strapless bra and panties with your wedges still on before climbing up the stairs. Harry stood up straight as you began to walk away.

You quickly undressed as you started your shower, getting under the warm stream while patiently waiting. The anticipation was killing you. It felt like you had been standing under the running water for hours with Harry nowhere to be found. You decided that you would actually start your shower routine.

You were facing the water, rinsing off your face free of makeup and face wash when you felt Harry’s grip on the back of your neck. He pressed his body close to yours so that you could feel his erection on your bum and so that his mouth had access to your ear.

“What am I to do with you, filthy girl? Spent months thinking of you with your legs spread open, just for me and then you have to go and fuck yourself with not only your fingers, but mine as well.”

He used his left hand to guide yours to the wall for support while his right hand trailed down your body, immediately finding purchase between your legs. His middle finger was quick with making circles around your sensitive nub while he laced his fingers with yours against the wall.

“Dreamt about touching you,” his fingers dipped lower, grazing your glistening entrance. “Tasting you,” he began to pepper kisses along your shoulder. “Fucking you.” He thrusted his hips behind you, his hard on grazing perfectly between your cheeks.

“I’ve wanted to for so long my sweet girl, just know that it’s because I want this, not because of the job. Fuck the job honestly. I just want you, all of you.”

He gave a gentle push to your upper spine to have you lean over slightly as he grips his member, swiftly sliding himself into you and quickly gaining a rhythm with his thrusts. He was quick but not deep, causing you to press your cheek to the cold time for support. His thrusts became deeper and rougher, causing your gentle whimpers to become moans that bounced against the tiles.

Harry gripped your thigh, pulling it to spread you open further while he guided you to rest your foot on the bench of the shower. His moans were muffled by your shoulder that would have his mark by the end of this. Harry’s hand continued to rub circles on your clit, making your legs tremble and for your to lean back upright into Harry.

“Feel good baby? Fuck, you’re such a good girl taking me. Feel so fucking good.”

You could feel his hips stutter against you, causing him to roll his hips slowly into you. You let out a moan and grip the wrist of his hand that is making work on your mound.

“Mmm you like that? Going to cum for me, sweet girl? Let me feel you.” His fingers started to move in rapid figure eights, causing your leg that was propped up to quickly fall and close Harry’s hand between your thighs. The new tightness of your core with your legs closed caused Harry to moan out and still within you, feeling your orgasm throb around him.

He began to kiss down your spine so he could be on his knees. He gently gripped your hip to turn you around so you could finally face him. He looked beautiful.

As he was kissing your lower belly, you took in his wet hair slicked back, his cheeks and chest flush from orgasm, his lips red and swollen. He used both hands to spread your thighs open so that he could see his cum drip from your core. He looked up at you in awe before quickly running his finger through your folds, catching both his and your arousal. He extended his hand up to you, telling you to ‘open’ before he popped his slick finger between your lips. He let you suck his finger to your desire as he dipped his tongue between your folds, moaning at the taste of your mixture.

Harry had stood up and held your jaw before leaning in for your first kiss. He was gentle, holding both sides of your jaw as his tongue grazed your lip to allow him to taste all of you. He pressed you gently against the cool wall as he continued to kiss you breathless before pulling away and grabbing the shampoo to wash your hair for you.

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

It had been a few weeks and you had finally received the call telling you that you could pick up a gift that you had purchased for Harry. You had bought it prior to him giving you the good news that he had accepted the internship with Jack, but he doesn’t need to know that.

You called him and told him that you were on your way to pick him up with the plan to go for a celebratory dinner. You texted him when you were out front, climbing out of Harry’s gift to lean on the passenger door to await his arrival.

When he walked out, you beamed at how handsome he looked with chartreuse wide legged trousers with a black stripe along the side and a black button up. When he turned to look at you, he was frozen.

The white 1966 Mercedes-Benz 230SL.

You lifted your hands with a ‘surprise’ and a beaming smile. You acted as if you were one of those girls on the Price is Right, explaining all the details, ending with “And she could be all yours Mr. Styles, for the price of a kiss.”

Harry climbed down the front stairs of his apartment building, still in awe of the car but quickly grabbed your face and placed multiple quick kisses to your lips before wrapping his arms around you.

“Sweet girl, you didn’t…”

“You stop. I did and I wanted to, you deserve it. You’ve been working so hard and you got the internship with Jack. We’ll be working together before you know it.”

He looked down at you and gave you a gentle smile before giving you another longer, sweeter kiss. “Shall we go for a ride?” You held the keys up for Harry, who promptly took them before opening the passenger door for you.

Harry drove around the city, following your directions to a more secluded area by a park. The sun was setting as you told Harry to park the car. You looked at him adoringly, your fingers rubbing through his growing locks.

Harry turned to look at you with that all knowing glare, “Did you bring me all the way out here just to screw me, dirty girl?”

You were already climbing across the seat to straddle his lap, unzipping the front of your dress, exposing you had nothing on underneath. You pulled Harry’s head back by tugging at his hair to look up at you. “We need to break her in, don't we?”

Harry groaned before sitting up to give you a searing kiss, his hands trailing over your exposed skin as you were kissing the skin of his jaw and neck. “We could get caught, you know?”

You pulled away, looking down upon him with a devious smirk, you began to undo his belt and zip of his trousers. “Good.”

Harry let out a moan as you dipped his hand in his trousers, pumping him lightly before pulling him out.

“Fucking filthy girl.”

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

Harry was being added to all the invitations to your work events as if he were a part of you. At this point, he was. Claudia being sure that everyone knew that Harry was an up and coming businessman who was in love with New York’s finest and most beautiful businesswoman.

And everyone adored Harry. How could they not? He was charming, handsome, smart, and an amazing lover. But people didn’t need to know the last part. Well, except maybe Claudia, she was your best friend.

Harry was just as adventurous as you when it came to your intimacy. Always suggesting new things to try, always feeding your hunger. Tonight was no different.

You both had played with the idea of fooling around at a public event but never made any formal agreement. Tonight, you were invited to a gala at the Guggenheim so Harry had used it as an opportunity to fulfill your fantasy.

Harry had stopped by Harris’ to pick up both of your garments and he also stopped at Eve’s Garden on his way to your home. Harry had walked into your penthouse with the garment bags and a little black plastic bag in hand.

You were in your en-suite finishing up your bath, putting lotion on while sitting on the edge of your tub, humming along to Etta James as Lady was curled up on your vanity, licking her paw. She chirped when she saw Harry in the doorway, slinking her way to him for some loving pets.

“Hello, my sweet girls.” You beam up at Harry, rubbing the last of your lotion into your hands before standing up to give Harry a saccharine kiss, also giving Lady a pet. She would never forgive you if you didn’t.

“Thank you for picking up my dress, handsome.”

“Of course, my love. I picked up a little something else.” Harry gave you a small smirk before turning to your room, you follow suit. Harry sat on your bed, patting his lap for you to sit on.

He pulled black bag out from behind him as you sat in his lap. He handed you the bag, undoing your robe to kiss the skin of your collar. You pulled out the vibrant cube box that was nondescript. You rotated it in your hands to try to figure out what it was.

“Open it.” Harry continued to kiss your skin, opening your robe more to expose your chest to him. You opened the box to see a vibrator, a We-Vibe specifically. The box began to vibrate without you touching anything, Harry pulling his lips off your skin to show you that he is controlling it with his phone.

You let out a laugh in disbelief, “Oh, baby.”

Harry smiled at you before getting a good grip of you to lay you on the bed. “I figured we could have a little fun tonight.”

You laid on your back and spread your legs for Harry, who settled on his knees between yours. Harry had pulled the vibrator out of the box, going to the bathroom to sanitize it like the gentleman he is. He made eye contact with you on his way back to you, sucking on the vibrator as he crawled back up the bed.

He shamelessly rolled it against his tongue as his free hand ran up your inner thigh. Harry pulled the vibrator out of his mouth, hollowing his cheeks to spit on the tip of the vibrator before running it through your folds. He gently pushed it into you, watching you as you take a quick inhale.

“You okay, sweet girl?” You gave him a small nod before grabbing his hand to help him adjust it to a more comfortable position within you. Harry rubbed the tops of your thighs before leaning forward to give you a gentle kiss. “Let's get ready, hm?”

You both got up to get ready, you waddling slightly as you walked to your closet, adjusting to exciting new object between your legs. You let out a squeal when you felt it begin to vibrate.

“Just testing it!”

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

Dinner was really rough on you, Harry having his phone permanently attached to his hand under the table. You were starting to get sweaty around your hairline and upper lip trying to keep your moans at bay.

You were reapplying your signature lipstick after finishing dinner and Harry took it as an opportune moment to give you a pulsing vibrate, causing you to give a light moan as your mouth was open and your hand holding your mirror fell to the table soundly. Claudia, Derek, Jack, and Sharon all look at you as Harry tries to hold back his smile, clearing his throat and rubbing his two fingers on the tip of his nose.

“Are you alright, chickee?”

You also cleared your throat and nodded as you felt the intensity between your legs increase and the pulsing become more frequent. You closed your eyes and let out a hum, gently rubbing your lips together before suggesting you go to the bathroom, giving Harry’s thigh a squeeze.

You made your way out of the dining area, Harry quick to follow, telling your friends that he was simply checking up on you. You heard the click of his boots on the marbled floor, the vibrations being between your legs making your knees buckle as you feel Harry’s grip on your bicep to pull you in his direction.

He pulled you into a more private area that was closest to where you were, which happened to be a coat closet. He smeared his lips against yours, smudging your scarlet lips. Harry’s hand was quick to run up your skirt to pull the toy from you, promptly placing it between his lips to suck off your juices before sticking it in his inner jacket pocket.

Harry fell to his knees before you, hiking up your skirt around your waist, gripping your hands to guide you to hold the skirt up for him.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me tonight baby.” He was kissing along your thighs, “Stayed nice and quiet for me, though I hate it. Need to hear you scream for me now, darling.” Harry lifted your leg so it rested on his shoulder while his hands pinned you against the wall.

You felt his fingers tighten around your hips as his nose rubbed against your mound, pecking kisses, occasionally giving your skin a soft lick. You moan softly and look down to see Harry already peering up at you through his long lashes. “Going to need you to be louder than that, sweet girl.”

Harry sat up on his hunches to pull himself out of the restraints of his designer trousers. He lifted his palm up to you, “Spit.”

You gladly spit in his palm before he started to stroke himself, letting an unashamed moan out of the back of his throat. “Been so fucking hard for you all night. Was palming myself under the table all through dinner.”

You spread your legs further as Harry scooted closer, returning to giving you gentle kisses to your mound and lips. You could feel his moans against your skin as he was pumping himself and spreading you open with his tongue.

Your head tipped back as Harry began to dip his tongue into you, gently sucking your lips and clit individually into his mouth. You continue to let out tiny mewls, and Harry needed more.

“Louder, dirty girl. I want them to hear you in the dining room.”

“I need you to fuck me if you want me to do that, baby.”

Harry quickly removed your thigh from his shoulder and climbed to his feet. He still had a grip on your thigh, slinging it over his hip so he could simply slide into you, which was easy to do with how slick you had become from Harry’s incessant teasing all night.

You both moaned out at the feeling, finally having you full of him, just what you needed. What you both needed. You let out a loud moan when Harry started thrusting his hips into you, begging for him to go harder as you dug your nails into his suit jacket. You quickly pushed it off of him so that you could get your nails into him properly.

“Fucking hell, my dirty girl really needs me, huh?”

You nodded at him, letting out another moan that caused Harry’s hips to thrust erratically. His hand gripped your ass to pull you closer, his other hand went to your jaw, his thumb running over your ruby lips, smearing the color.

“You look so good when I fuck you baby girl.” You licked his thumb, tasting the remnants of your lipstick. You grind your hips against Harry, egging him on.

“I need you harder.” You begin to lift your other leg to wrap around Harry’s waist, him gripping your thigh and pinning your harder to the wall with his hips. He took your direction and began to thrust into you harder, hips snapping at a feverish pace. The sound of your skin slapping and your strangled moans sent Harry into overdrive, using his pubic mound to grind perfectly into your clit causing you to gush slightly around Harry’s member.

“Fuck, dirty girl. Got you squirting on me.” The look on Harry’s face was a look of awe as well as pained trying to hold back from his own orgasm. Your thighs clamped around his waist as your second wave came over you, constricting Harry causing him to come undone. Harry’s hand flew up to the wall to support the two of you as you slowly came down.

Harry kissed your cheek and jaw mumbling how perfect you are and that he loves you over and over. You grip his jaw as you unhook your ankles to plant yourself to the floor. Kissing him and praising how good he treats you, how much you love him.

“We should probably get back, hm?”

“I think that since we are both a proper mess,” he tried to remove some of your smeared lipstick with no luck, smiling down at you, “we should probably just head home.”

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

“So what happened with you and Harry last night?” Claudia had asked you as you were both eating your salads from Derek’s go-to local bistro.

“Hm? Oh, I wasn’t feeling well so he just took me home.”

“Not feeling well as in, ‘tummy not well’, or ‘he fucked you so good in the coat closet that you couldn’t walk’ not well?”

You choked on your salad, taking quick sips from your water to clear your throat.

“He said he wanted everyone to hear you and boy did we!” Claudia began to laugh, taking another bit of food and giving you a cheeky smile as you blushed.

“I wanted to check up on you, as girls do, and the next thing I know, I have my ear pressed up to the coat closet getting turned on by Harry’s dirty talk to you.” She shrugged it off as nothing as you covered your face in embarrassment.

“You told me you both are adventurous but lord have mercy. Getting everyone hot and bothered by it.”

You finally loosened up, giggling slightly as you asked her, “Did you notice how I was off throughout the night?” She nodded as she licked the piece of green hanging out of her mouth to guide it where it belonged.

“Harry got us one of those remote vibrators…”

“Oh my god! He was fucking with you all night?! I would take him in the coat closet too! Fucking hell! That’s so hot though. Was it nice? I mean clearly, but would you do it again?”

As you were about to respond, Jack walked in with Harry beside him. He looked so handsome when dressed in a more casual suit for work. His hair was growing longer and he was too lazy to shave that morning at your place before work, so he had a slight scruff to him.

“To what do we own the pleasure of you fine gentleman?” Harry winked at your cheeky remark.

“Well sweetheart, wanted you to be the first to know. Harry has accepted a position at my company and would like to discuss a business proposition with you.”

You couldn’t help but to jump up to your feet to run over and give him a hug and kiss, doing the same to Jack.

You clear your throat to appear to be more professional, which no one in the room took seriously. “So what is this business proposition that you have for me?”

Harry cleared his throat and you didn’t realize that Derek and Sharon had also made their way into your office. Harry tucked his hands in his pockets, getting a nod of approval from Jack.

“I know that our start was quite unorthodox in nature, being as you had hired me as a date to an event. That being said, I have come to learn a lot more about you than I had when I was just a simple fangirl of yours.”

You giggle at his natural joking nature but know that there is true sentiment to his words.

“I have been utterly in love with you before we even met but being with you and getting to truly know you has cemented my thoughts and feelings for you. I know that we have been official for less than a year but I don’t think I could handle another moment of my life where I can’t say that we will be each other's forever.”

You could hear Claudia and Sharon squeak and gasp as Harry pulls his hands out of his pockets, his left one holding a small velvet box.

“Y/N, my love, my sweet girl. I promise to love you and take care of you for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?”

You were beaming with your eyes brimmed with tears, sniffling with a giggle. “There is only one problem.” Everyone froze in their movements, anticipating what you will say next. “I get to keep taking care of you.”

Harry let out the breath he was holding, “Fair enough.” He reached for your left hand to place the perfect engagement ring on your finger. Standing up to give you the most perfect kiss from the most perfect man. And to think that you had ordered him online.

[cali-holland]

Forever and Ever, Prologue

Tom Holland X Osterfield!Reader, Wedding Series

As Tom thinks over the two most important questions he’ll ever ask in his life, he thinks back on the day that he met you, the day his life changed forever.

Warnings: sexual themes, swearing

Word Count: 2100

Masterlist   Tom Holland Masterlist

“I'm so in love with you

And I hope you know

Darling, your love is more than worth its weight in gold

We've come so far, my dear

Look how we've grown

And I wanna stay with you until we're grey and old

Just say you won't let go”

 ~ Say You Won’t Let Go, James Arthur

~~~

Tom’s leg shook anxiously as he mindlessly scrolled through his phone. Sat right beside him in the unusually quiet German airport was Harry, who could tell something was definitely off with his brother. Harry glanced over at Tom’s phone, but he was just on Instagram, looking at a random dog account, it was nothing out of the ordinary. It wasn’t until Tom started to bite his nails that the younger boy spoke up.

“Why are you acting like you’re going to explode?” He asked. Tom stared at his brother, brown eyes wide with his thumb nail still in his mouth. He dropped his hand from his lips and shut off his phone.

“Uh, um-“ He stuttered, unsure what to say about his nerves.

“Tom-“ Harry started, but he was quickly cut off.

“I’m asking Y/N to marry me.” Tom rushed out, and this time, it was his brother’s turn to have wide eyes.

“No way! Have you told Harrison yet?”

It was a simple question. It really was, and yet Tom felt his mouth dry up at the thought. Harrison was Tom’s best friend; he’d definitely be best man at the wedding, but Harrison was your older brother, and Tom didn’t know how to ask for his permission, even just asking to date you was awkward enough. His leg started to bounce uncontrollably again as he shifted in the uncomfortable chair.

“Not exactly?” Tom replied, and Harry looked at him suspiciously.

“You haven’t told Harrison?” He questioned.

“No.” He sighed, “I know I need to, but I just don’t know how. He’s my best friend, and I know he’ll let be supportive of me and of Y/N. It’s just-“

“It’s a big step.” Harry noted, patting his brother on the shoulder, “But you know he’ll let you, so that’s got to count for something?”

“It does. Right now, I’m more nervous about dealing with the ‘hey I wanna marry your sister’ talk than actually proposing.” He admitted, running a hand through his hair.

Their conversation paused as they heard the airline announce boarding, and the two of them got on the plane with ease. Sitting down beside Tom in an aisle seat, Harry reminded him, “I’ll be honest, I don’t know how much longer I can keep this a secret, so you have a week to tell him before I spill it. I’ve already told Sam.”

“When did you have time to do that?” Tom mumbled, and his brother smiled at him helplessly, pulling on headphones and a sleep mask, ready to sleep for the entirety of the flight, even though it wasn’t a redeye. 

Meanwhile, Tom looked at his phone in his hands. His phone, and his heart, lit up as a text from you came through.

“Can’t wait to see you when you land! Love you!” it read, accompanied with several heart emojis. Smiling to himself, Tom typed out a response.

“Love you too! I’m counting down the minutes until I can hug you again!” and he even added the emojis to match yours. Tom let out a sigh when the stewardess called for all phones to be switched off as they prepared for take off. With his phone in airplane mode, he found himself on his photos app, thumbing through his favorite album, compiled with pictures of you, his favorite thing in the world.

The very first photo in the album was actually the very first picture of you two. Though neither of you knew it back then, it was one of the best days of his life, as well as one of the most embarrassing.

They say that you just know when you meet your other half, the love of your life. For Tom, that was very much true; the moment he laid eyes on you, he knew you’d make a lasting impact on his heart. But that couldn’t be farther from the truth for you. 

It was your 17th birthday, and, like always, you and your twin brother, Harrison, had a joint party. He invited his friends, which included Tom, and you invited your own friends, including your crush from school. Tom had only been friends with Harrison for a few months, and he had no idea that his friend even had a twin sister.

So as everyone mingled around in your backyard under the colored lights from the patio, you found yourself occupied with Richard (to this day, Tom calls him Dick). Flicking your hair back, you let yourself flirt away with him, and he seemed to be getting into it as well. As he made a joke, you threw your head back in laughter— or well, in forced laughter because he wasn’t all that funny. With your eyes shut, you were completely unaware about the two boys running through the crowd. A body collided into yours and you lost your balance, falling into the pool behind you.

Even though he was the one who ran into you, Tom still blames it on Harrison, who managed to duck around you before Tom could, sending him crashing into you.

The party quieted down immediately as all eyes fell on you and your white dress in the pool. While Harrison couldn’t control his laughter at your embarrassment (like a true brother), Tom found himself frozen as he looked at you. He could still remember his heart thumping louder in his chest; he swore it was love at first sight. As you trudged your way to the stairs, Tom quickly shed himself of his jacket, thinking it’d be best to try to cover your now see-through material.

“Here.” He said to you as you stepped out of the pool, arms crossed over your chest. You eyed him for a moment, trying to see if he was serious, before you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him.

“Dumbass.” You muttered, walking past him and his jacket and into your house. Tom stood there, confused. Surely, you knew it was an accident and you knew he was trying to be chivalrous.

As the party continued around him, Tom shrugged his jacket back on and Harrison came up behind him, still laughing at the incident. “I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of that sooner.”

“What? Pushing a random girl into a pool?” Tom asked, and his friend raised his eyebrows at him in surprise.

“Mate, you realize that was Y/N, my twin sister.” The wide smile on his face did nothing to comfort Tom’s growing guilt and now the poor brunette was on the verge of a meltdown.

“That was your sister? This is her party, too?”

“I should’ve shoved her in that pool the moment Richard started chatting her up.” Harrison stated, putting an arm around his friend. “She’ll get over it.”

You didn’t get over it. You actually completely ignored his existence out of spite for nearly a year. But when you finally did get over it, Tom was glad you did.

The picture wasn’t even really a picture of you two. It was a group photo, taken by your mother after you had changed out of your soaking wet clothes. You stood in the middle of the group photograph, smiling beside Harrison, and Tom stood on the other side of his now best friend (Richard wasn’t in the photo anymore since Tom cropped him out). While it was subtle, Tom wasn’t even looking at the camera; instead, he was looking at you. Harrison loved to make fun of him for having “demon eyes”, but it was still a momentous photograph (which you actually loathed the picture because you didn’t like your damp hair in it). 

As the flight took off, Tom busied himself on his laptop. With his phone connected to it, he moved over some of his favorite pictures of you, including the “horrendous” picture from your 17th birthday. He spent the next few hours piecing together the perfect slideshow, feeling his heart soar proudly as he worked on it. Though he still needed to ask Harrison for permission and still needed to get a ring, he figured now was as good a time as ever to work on his proposal plans.

He wasn’t really sure when he’d have an opportunity to talk to Harrison privately in the next week. When they land in London, they’ll be greeted by you and Harrison, probably Sam too, maybe even Paddy and his parents- he wasn’t too sure. Then, he’d spend the next week by your side, trying to get as many cuddles and kisses in as possible to make up for his time away. 

The moment their plane landed and he switched his phone back onto its normal setting, a string of texts came through from the family group chat. Judging by the excessive congratulatory texts mixed with “why didn’t you tell us”, he knew Harry’s slip to Sam had gotten out. He could only hope Harrison didn’t know; it’d be a miracle if you didn’t know at this point.

As he left baggage claim with Harry, he looked for you along the pickup curb. He felt a bit disappointed when he spotted Harrison alone by his car, but then the nervousness settled in when he remembered the all important question he had to ask Harrison before he could ask you the other all important question.

“How was the flight?” Harrison asked with a bright smile, opening the trunk of his car for them.

“Slept for all of it.” Harry replied as he loaded up his luggage and Tom did the same.

“Good, just a flight. A normal flight.” Tom stated, a bit too suspiciously.

“You alright?” Harrison looked at him questioningly.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” He answered defensively. With his things in the car, he made his way to the passenger seat and took a large gulp of his water, suddenly feeling dehydrated. Harry slid into the backseat, and Harrison made himself comfortable in his driver’s seat.

“I know Y/N said she was going to come, but she got dragged into a mandatory work meeting.” Harrison said, before either could ask about your absence. Tom didn’t answer, he just remained suspiciously quiet. Noticing this, the blonde spoke up, “You sure you’re fine?”

“I want-“ Tom started, before clearing his throat. He looked at his best friend beside him, nervously admitting, “I want to ask Y/N to marry me.”

Harrison was silent for a moment as he maneuvered the car out of the airport. It was probably only a few seconds that he was dead quiet, expression unreadable, but it felt like an eternity to Tom. “We’ll be brothers? Actual brothers?”

“Well, in-laws, but yeah.” Tom replied, still unsure if Harrison was okay with it. Before he could ask, the blonde reached over and punched him in the arm.

“You, dickhead, thinking I wouldn’t let you marry my sister. I thought something was seriously wrong with you.” He laughed.

“So, that’s a yes then?”

“Yes, it’s a yes. I better be the best man.”

“What about me?” Harry asked from the back. Harrison and Tom both turned around to look at him with mirrored raised eyebrows. “Alright, I get it.”

“Have you got the ring yet?” Harrison inquired, facing the road again to drive properly.

“I’ve looked at some, but I haven’t bought any yet. I know how I’m asking though.” Tom went off into a further explanation of his proposal idea. Needless to say, they were all excited about this.

The rest of the drive home was filled with proposal talk, and, when Harrison pulled up to the shared house, he let out a small sigh. “Okay, as much as I want to continue talking about this, maybe we should leave this conversation in the car.”

“Why?” Tom asked, confused by the suggestion.

“It’s nothing.” He shrugged in reply, helping them get their bags out of the car. Tom was just about to question it again when they stepped inside the house, but all thoughts about Harrison’s previous words were gone the moment the door opened.

“Surprise!” You cheered with Tuwaine and the rest of the Holland clan beside you, a ‘welcome home’ banner hanging on the wall behind you all. Tom dropped his bags and hugged you immediately. “Welcome home, baby.”

“I missed you so much, sweetheart.” He mumbled in your ear, before cupping your cheeks to kiss you, not particularly caring about the pda in front of his family.

“Yeah, we’re here, too. Thanks.” Sam piped up, having just greeted his twin with a hug.

“I’m not kissing you.” Tom laughed, before letting go of you to hug his brother and the rest of his family.

“I’m sorry I didn’t pick you up. I was busy planning all this.” You told him, once he came back to you, wrapping an arm around your waist casually.

“I love you. You’re the best.” He smiled at you, pulling you in for another kiss.

“I know.” You teased. Tom just looked at you with the fondest expression on his face, making you furrow your eyebrows at him, “Everything ok?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” He replied, brushing it off.

As he looked at you in his arms, he thought to himself. ‘This is absolutely the girl I want to marry.’

~~~

Tag List: @viagracex​ @theamazingtomholland​ @Hellomoveonby @heyitsshrez @harrisonosterfieldhazmyheart @joyleenl​ @t-o-m-hollands​ @lonikje​ @sleepybesson​ @sunkisseddreamer​ @hollandsamor @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh​ @gorrillaglue23 @petersoftboyparker @musicalkeys @duskholland​ @biebsmylife95​ @dummiesshort​

Tom Holland Tag List: @quaksonhehe​ @tomkindholland​

Series Tag List: @thefallenbibliophilequote​

[wormstacheangel]

Almost: Ch 6

Summary: Dean is a little too distracted by everything Cas. Even when he tells himself he has to move on and just be happy for his old best friend. But it's hard when Cas is now just a text message away again.

Read on Tumblr: Ch1 link | Ch2 link | Ch3 link | Ch4 link | Ch5 link |

Read on AO3 link (maybe leave a nice little comment?)

Word Count: 2959 More Under The Cut

“Rich people really don’t eat, huh?” Charlie said as Dean gets into the drive-through line for some burgers and shakes. She leaned forward on the seat, her head closer to Dean’s as she tried to look at the menu. “Well, at least I know what their houses look like.”

“Why did we have to leave in such a hurry anyway?” Sam was in the passenger seat also staring at the menu before he turned to Charlie. “Are you getting a chocolate one or vanilla? I’ll get the opposite of you.”

“I’ll get chocolate. You get vanilla and Dean can get the strawberry one.” Charlie decides, patting Dean’s head. “Yeah, why did we leave? Didn’t dreamy little Cas just get there?”

Dean rolls his eyes but doesn’t look back at them as they made kissing noises at him. “I won’t buy you guys shit if you keep this up.”

That shut them up pretty quickly. Good. Dean was still trying to process what was even said. Cas’s number felt like it was burning in his pocket. He felt stupid for wanting to call him already just to hear his name being said by Cas’s dumb raspy voice. Years of not hearing it really was catching up to him. 

Sam then hit Dean’s arm to grab his attention. “Dude, we’re next.”

“Oh.” He went up to the speaker and ordered whatever Charlie kept telling him to say. He wasn’t sure if he got something for himself or even how much it was, just handing his card over when he got to the window. 

Charlie and Sam must have noticed his mind was somewhere else. Lost in the tingle that still lingered on his cheek. Lost in that big bear hug that Cas gave him. The way Cas said his name, like a damn prayer, when he finally saw Dean made him feel weak in the knees and he hated it. Hated that Cas already had such a stronghold of him. 

Of course, they didn’t know that was what he was thinking about. And he’s sure as fuck not going to tell them any of that. It’s his guilty pleasure that he gets to relive in his head and their nosy asses can have none of it. 

As soon as they had their food Dean parked them in the emptier side of the parking lot before turning the car off. “Okay,” He turned towards them and took the food Sam handed him. “Dude, this is strawberry. I don’t want that shit.”

“Too bad you already agreed.” Sam held his shake away from Dean. 

“I paid so I should get first dibs.” Dean reached for it again but Sam held it back, his bitchface front and center. “Sam. Give it.”

“No. This one’s mine.” Sam opened the lid of his shake and licked the top of the ice cream. “See it’s mine now.”

Dean laughed coldly. “Like that will stop me.” Dean was about to jump his brother but Charlie, who probably was tired as shit of seeing their bickering and saw the signs that this was about to turn into an actual wrestling fight, reached forward and took the strawberry shake from Dean’s hand. Replacing it with her chocolate one.

“There. Happy?”

“No.” Not really.” The brothers both mumble as Charlie lifts her hand as a threat and even though she would never actually hit them they saw that she was annoyed. So they both quickly said, “Sorry.”

“Good.” She sat back in the seat and started unwrapping her burger. “Now can we get back to the topic on hand?”

“Which is?” Dean had a mouthful of burger as he talked. 

“Why did we leave so early?” She stuffed a few fries in her mouth as she looked at him with raised eyebrows. Looking like a curious little chipmunk as she chewed.

“Yeah,” Sam took a bite of the small yellow pepper before he bit into his burger. “I thought Cas wanted us there or whatever.”

“He did.” Dean looked down at his burger as he talked. 

“Oh, so you did talk to him!” Charlie moved forward in the seat again. She frowned at him/ “How was he? Nobody looked really sad for it being a funeral and all.”

Dean shrugged. “He seemed fine. Didn’t talk for long cause he told me to leave.”

“What?!” Both Sam and Charlie said at the same time.

“Why’d he tell you that?” Sam asked, looking at Dean with round puppy eyes, probably trying to read Dean again.

 While Charlie quickly picked up with angry steam. “And after telling you to go? What the fuck kind of-!”

“Charles. Breath.” Dean put his burger down and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket. “I guess I should tell you guys since I’m gonna have to tell Bobby soon.”

They looked at him. Waiting for answers so Dean quickly told them about the will reading he was invited to go to. Leaving them just as confused as Dean felt.

“But...but why you?”

“Shit if I know, Sammy.” Dean finished his burger off and worked on his fries, dipping them into the shake. “Cas just said Bobby and me gotta be there for it to be read or whatever.”

“What if you get money?!” Charlie hit Dean’s shoulder in excitement. 

“Doubt it. I’ll be lucky if he gives Bobby’s shop back to us.” Sam and Charlie sat back in their seats, nodding in agreement. “I feel kind of bad that a lot of people weren’t mourning and shit but...that dude was weird.”

“Creepy.” Charlie added.

“Gave me the chills.” Sam shivered. 

“Rest in peace, Chuck!” Dean added at the end, holding his spoon up in solitary. “May you give Bobby the garage and hopefully your kids won’t kill me. Salud!”

Charlie and Sam smiled, even Sam who rolled his eyes but played along, as they held their spoons up. “Salud!”

When Dean finally arrived home, dropping off Charlie and Sam first, he dragged his feet to his room. This is around the time he hated living by himself. When he comes home and the lights are all off. The air is still and cold. No warmth or sense of home even if this has been his home for the last three years. 

Dean took off his clothes as he went. Dumping it all into the chair in his room before he pulled the covers from his bed to climb inside them. He was too tired from the emotional roller coaster ride he went on the last few days. Tomorrow isn’t going to be any better so he might as well get some rest now. 

“Fuck. My phone.” Dean groaned as he kicked the covers off and dragged his feet to grab his pants. Digging into its pockets to grab his phone and then stiffening up when he felt the crumpled piece of paper.

He took it out and walked back to bed. Staring at the phone in one hand and the paper in the other. 

“Hmm,” Dean hummed as he studied the number. “So Cas did end up changing it.” Explained the dropped calls and unread text at least. 

Dean slowly added Cas’s number to his phone. He debated on having the name down as Castiel or Cas. Then he debated if he should add an emoji, just something as dumb as a ghost for ghosting him, but he decided against it. 

“Just Cas.” He whispers to himself as his thumbs hovered over the screen. His eyes narrowing at the name that haunted him for years. Cause that’s what he was, right? He was just Cas. He wasn’t even his friend anymore. At least Dean doesn’t think so. Even though he wasn’t so sure if he could be just friends with Cas, not yet, but...“Fuck it.”

He quickly opens a new text box and shoots a small little text.

‘Hey. It’s Dean.’ Dean rolled his eyes but didn’t discourage himself from adding. ‘Just wanted to make sure you had my number too.’

Dean looked at the clock on the corner of his screen and thankfully it wasn’t so late that it’ll be mistaken as a damn booty-call. Not that Dean would do that. Not to Cas at least. Maybe he’ll call somebody else for that later cause right now he feels too damn lonely and it’s just fucking suffocating him. 

He started to scroll through his list of possible hookups - not that big of a list anymore now that people are getting married and shit - when a text notification got his heart racing in his throat. He sat up against his headboard and took a calming breath. His thumb hovered over the screen because he was nervous. It’s probably just a dumb reply too and he’s making this into a big fucking deal when it’s not going to anything important.

If it’s not a big deal then open it. He tells himself before sighing and opening up the text.

‘Hello, Dean. I saved it now.’

“Of course.” Dean rolled his eyes and dropped his phone on his lap. 

His hands went up to cover his face, palms pressing hard into his eyes as his fingers grip at his hair in frustration. He was just mad -no fuck that he was annoyed- at the fact that he gave himself that dumb pep talk and he still held on to hope that maybe Cas would say...what the hell did he want Cas to say to him? 

“Hey, Dean, you looked great today so I’m leaving my fiancé for you!” Dean mimicked Cas’s voice out loud to himself. 

He groaned and picked up the phone again to just shut it off. There was no need to reply to that. The conversation was over. Clearly, the dude was busy with his damn fiancé.

But then Dean stopped short because he found the ‘...’ that kept appearing and disappearing. Damn it! He’s hoping again.

Dean kept his eyes on those dots for what felt like hours instead of the minute that it actually was. His heart beating hard against his chest as he imagined Cas trying to think of what to say. His dumb concentrated face glaring down at the phone. His too big hands holding the phone in between them and his thumbs hovering over the board. Probably overthinking his words or correcting something that just didn’t sound exactly right. Was Cas overthinking his text or was Dean just a dumbass for believing that?

Then finally the dots were replaced by words.

‘I’m sorry if Mick was bothering you earlier.’

Oh. Not what he thought Cas was gonna say at all. 

Dean straightened up against the headboard. Pulling a pillow against his chest to hug as he texted back right away. Dean wasn’t the type to wait to look cool and Cas knew that. 

‘He wasn’t.’ Dean sent first and then he rolled his eyes as he sent the next text. Nobody can tell Dean he’s anything but supportive. ‘He’s a nice guy.’

Even if it fucking kills him inside. He bangs his head back against the headboard a few times.

‘Wow. That must have taken so much out of you to type out.’

Dean laughed. Of course, that bastard will know. ‘Shut up, dumbass.’

‘I’ll let Mick know you think so highly of him.’

‘Okay, I wouldn’t go that far.’

‘Is he not your idol?’ Cas sent and Dean rolled his eyes but Cas quickly sent another one. ‘Are you not practicing your accent so you can be just like him?’

‘Ha. Ha. Very funny, Cas.’

‘Thank you. Glad one of you thinks so.’

‘What? Mick not a fan of your dumb dry humor?’

Cas sent three texts back to back. ‘No.’ ‘At least I don’t think he does.’ ‘He doesn’t seem to understand when I’m being sarcastic’

‘Well, it takes a while.’

‘We’ve known each other for 5 years now.’

‘Oh.’ Dean said it out loud as well. ‘That long?’

‘Yes.’

‘Almost has us beat.’

‘…’ Dean thinks he fucked up somehow but before he can completely freak out Cas texts. ‘Mick doesn’t come close to what you and I had, Dean.’

His breath catches in his throat and Dean starts to choke on-air as he reads the text again. What the hell was he supposed to respond to that?! “Lol. Good.” Dean jokes out loud as he wrote those words down but erased them just as quickly. 

‘Sorry. I should go. Sorry to keep you up.’

Shit! No. No. Don’t go Cas. ‘No biggie. Talk to me whenever, Cas.’

‘Thank you. Goodnight, Dean.’

‘Night, Cas.’

Then - cause Cas couldn’t get any damn cuter - he sends a sleeping cat emoji along with a flower emoji. 

Something came over him. Dean can say he was possessed or something but he sends the damn heart emoji. Then before he can see Cas’s reply - if he does reply - he turns off his phone. 

“Yeah,” Dean tucks himself in his bed. Covers over his head as he closes his eyes. “I’ll deal with that in the morning.”

-

“I’m just saying,” Bobby has been just saying all the way to the lawyer’s office. “We better be getting something good if they’re making us waste another afternoon not working. Are they gonna pay our bills? No.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Just get everything out now before we get inside.” Dean tells him as he parks the car. He turns the car off as Bobby already reached to open his door. “Hopefully Chuck liked us enough to just give us the shop back. Cause as long as we own it and not them then that's good.”

“That’s all we can ask for now.” Bobby gets out of the car and quickly closes the door behind him. 

Making Dean flinch as he sighs, his head hanging for just a second before he followed Bobby out. Thankfully, because of Chuck, they got to keep the shop open as long as they have but now they’re in a solid place where they can keep it open, and if one of the Novak’s gets it...Dean was just sure they would sell the property. Their family business will be no more. 

Why else would Chuck want them here if it’s not for that?

Dean quickly caught up to Bobby, who didn’t bother to change out of his working clothes and had the damn ripped trucker cap on, before he noticed that his Uncle was walking towards someone. 

“You’re late.” Cas quickly reaches to take Dean’s hand to drag him inside the large office building as he updates them. “Gabriel is inside trying to keep the peace but don’t worry,” He turns his head to Dean and winks at him. That bastard. “We will be your buffer so you’ll be perfectly safe.”

“Buffer?” Bobby’s voice gets Dean to stop floating away into Cas’s eyes. “We’re gonna need a damn buffer? What has your Daddy gotten us into, Cas?”

“I’m sorry, Bobby. If only I knew.” They get into the elevator and Cas lets go of Dean’s hand to smooth his clothes down. Eyebrow raised as if telling him ‘Couldn’t pick anything nice to wear to this important event?’ but Dean also just came back from work. He was lucky that his damn button-up didn’t have any oil stains. But then Cas smiled, “You look nice.”

Before Dean could answer, or even think of any words, Cas moved on to Bobby. Surprisingly Bobby let Cas fuss over him. 

“The lawyer told us that all of us, including you two, had to be present in order for the will to be read.” Cas fixed Bobby’s hat and nodded before he stood in front of them, facing the door with a heavy sigh. “Hopefully you guys are ready for some fun Novak family time.”

Dean didn’t stop himself as he quickly reached to take Cas’s hand in his. He pretended not to see Cas’s eyes widen as he faced the doors as well. “As long as it’s not some big dumb elaborate joke. We’re missing work for this you know.”

“I know.” Cas squeezes his hand, smiling before he turns towards the doors as well. “I’ll take you both out for dinner after this if you like.”

Both. Dean’s heart raced even if it does sound like a date with his Uncle tagging along.

The elevator door opened and Cas quickly started pulling Dean along again. Bobby clearly was looking at them but right now Dean didn’t care as he bumped shoulders with Cas. “That sounds great. What do you have in mind?”

“Whatever Bobby wants of course.”

“I wanna get the hell out of here.”

“I was thinking more like in the realm of Biggerson’s?”

“Yeah, sure, we can do that too.”

Cas and Dean both laughed as they bumped shoulders, fingers locking together now before they stopped in front of the right door. Cas turned to smile at Dean, it was soft and reassuring but he was asking Dean something.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

“If you’re sure.” Cas quickly tells him as he squeezes his hand once before letting go. 

Dean really missed that weight in his hand now. 

As soon as the door opened Cas walked through it - he easily ignored the angry glares that seemed to sting Dean frozen - and Bobby had to shove him a little for him to start walking. When the door closed Dean flinched hoping this would end soon. 

This was going to be a long meeting. But hey, Dean goes to where Cas was patting the extra seat next to him on the couch and falls beside him, at least Cas was here. 

“Now that we have everyone. Let’s get started. And please remember that security will call the police this time.”

Oh. Fuck.

[visander]

Capes and Fake Fangs | Ao3.

With Magnus busy on a plane, Alec knew that it was up to him to plan he and Magnus' costumes for the party later. Thankfully, he had twitter to help him come up with ideas.

This is my ‘Vampire Alec’ square for @shadowhunterbingo.

Alec didn’t quite like parties but with Magnus’ social standing, they were an inevitable part of their life. Now, Magnus told him repeatedly that he didn’t have to attend them if he didn’t want to. Magnus knew that Alec wasn’t a huge fan of crowds or parties in general but the alternative to attending parties with Magnus was making Magnus go to parties alone when Alec could have just gone with him and tried to have a fun night out with his boyfriend.

Of course, Alec wouldn’t choose to stay home. Which is how Alec ended up in his bedroom, trying to dress himself for the first Halloween party Alec had ever attended as an adult… and in general. Alec didn’t know who was throwing the party exactly. Magnus had told him but Alec didn’t know anyone who was famous, except Magnus himself and the name had meant nothing to him. It could have been anyone throwing the party but Alec did know that whoever it was, they were a big deal.

Alec was sure they weren’t as big a deal as his boyfriend was but it was a little unfair to compare every famous person to Magnus. Regardless, they were a big deal in their own way and Alec was sure there would be other people at the party who would were famous as well and therefore, Alec did not want to embarrass Magnus with anything he wore or did.

That wasn’t even to mention that this was a costume party and Alec had no clue what to wear as a costume. When Alec asked, Magnus told him just to dress nice and they’d figure something out when he got there. Now, Magnus had sent this text as he was jumping on a plane to fly back into New York to meet Alec before this party, so Alec didn’t quite blame him for not having a second to worry about their costumes with Alec. Besides, Alec just figured he’d have to figure out the costumes himself.

By the time Magnus got there, they’d have three hours to spend together, get ready and go. That wasn’t very long. Alec wanted to have their costumes ready by then, so Magnus didn’t have to worry about it but Alec also had absolutely no clue what they should go as. It needed to be something good, so Magnus wouldn’t be embarrassed. Alec was sure a photo would end up online somehow.

Knowing Magnus was securely on a flight and unable to look online, Alec pulled out his phone and wrote a simple tweet. ‘I’m in charge of costumes. What should Magnus and I dress up as for Halloween?’ Instantly, the replies started pouring in. Alec still wasn’t used to being able to put something out into the world that would bring in thousands of likes and replies in a few minutes but at times like this, he had to admit that it was rather useful.

Alec had tried to ask Izzy but she hadn’t answered him. Now, he had thousands of answers.

Alec skimmed through the replies about how cute Alec was and how sweet of a boyfriend he was. He still appreciated so much that Magnus’ fans thought so but right now, he only had a little while to figure this out and he was looking for serious Halloween answers only.

More than a few people responded and told them to dress up like Magnus had in his music videos. Though Alec commended them on their support of Magnus’ brilliant art, Alec didn’t quite think Magnus was looking to promote himself at this Halloween party. He skimmed past those ones, hearting a few of the replies as he looked so people would know he was looking.

A lot of people suggested very complicated costumes, like star wars characters and pop figure icons that Alec wasn’t sure Magnus would want to dress as. Besides, Alec didn’t have time to come up with very complicated costumes for them. He needed something simple and he needed something he could get before Magnus arrived.

Finally, Alec came across one reply that made him pause. ‘Vampires,’ someone had written. Alec hummed to himself and liked the reply before he locked his phone and shoved it into his pocket. Vampires. Magnus and him could do vampires. They were classic and easy to do. Magnus would look adorable as a vampire and they could wear nice outfits as vampires, so that Magnus wouldn’t be utterly embarrassed by the costume.

Alec had also, on a completely unrelated note, always loved vampires. He’d had a crush on a hot vampire or two, back when they were popular. It was perfect. Alec grabbed his wallet and rushed out the door to find the first Halloween supply store that he could come across, hoping desperately that he would not run into any of Magnus’ fans who’d want pictures of him frantically buying fangs and fake blood.

.

A half an hour later, Alec found himself leaving the store with two sets of plastic fangs, fake blood and two capes that Alec was sure Magnus could style around. Alec had also bought a little skeleton cat for Church, one that he was sure twitter would love. Maybe, Alec could pose Church next to it and get a good photo to post. Over the past few months, Alec had gotten pretty good at using twitter to update Magnus’ fans and he’d come to enjoy his small time twitter fame.

Magnus was too busy to update people with cute little photos and the stuff Magnus posted tended to be a bit more curated anyway. He’d post pictures from the recording studio or from the set of his most recent project but he let Alec post the photos of him in the morning, cuddling with the cats with his hair all messy and twitter loved Alec for it.

Now, Alec snapped a photo of the things he’d bought before he replied to the person who’d suggested vampires in the first place, adding a thumbs up emoji along with a heart. Alec stared at his message after he’d already posted it. He was damn good at twitter now. Izzy would be proud of him for replying to someone, posting a photo and using emojis all at once.

The replies started pouring in but Alec closed his photo and put it away before he could get sucked in to them. He’d reply to people later. Right now, he had to get home and find something he could wear under his cape.

.

Magnus was normally late. Flights were delayed more often than not and Magnus’ drivers would be late arriving at the airport and most often, the traffic would be bad as Magnus made his way across the city. So, Alec knew that generally if Magnus said he’d be there by two, he’d really be there around three. Which is why Alec was expecting a little bit of wiggle room with Magnus’ intended arrival time being four. Alec had assumed he’d have until at least five before Magnus was there, if not a little later than that.

So, when Alec got back to his apartment, walked inside and saw Magnus’ bags by the door, he almost dropped his stuff in his pure excitement. He had just enough sense to shove his stuff onto the counter, kick his shoes off and run into the living room, finding his boyfriend in fact right there, sprawled on the couch with his feet propped up. Magnus was clearly tired from his flight but the moment he looked up and saw Alec standing there, he grinned.

Alec couldn’t help but match the expression as he rushed forward. It had been nearly two weeks since he’d seen Magnus. It was not the longest they’d ever gone without seeing each other and yet, it was far too long. Anytime spent away from Magnus was far too long. Two weeks was especially too long.

The moment Magnus was on his feet, Alec enveloped him in his arms and held him tight against his chest. He breathed in the warm smell of Magnus’ favorite sandalwood shampoo and he tried not to get too mushy at the fact that his boyfriend was in his arms yet again.

He’d just missed Magnus. He’d missed him a lot. He wasn’t going to rush it out every single time they were parted for the slighted amount of time (and they were parted often, given Magnus’ busy schedule) but fuck, he’d missed him so much.

“I missed you,” Alec rushed out finally. Fuck it. He had missed him.

Alec felt Magnus smile into the soft skin of his neck before he pulled away to peer up at Alec, finally meet his lips.

“I miss you too,” Magnus cooed when they parted again. Magnus’ eyes flickered past Alec to the bags he’d put down, where the skeleton cat was just peaking out, before he looked to Alec again. He slowly raised an eyebrow. “I hear we’re dressing up as vampires.”

Instantly, Alec’s face fell. He’d planned to have their vampire stuff out of the packages and more pristinely set up before he presented the idea to Magnus but of course, Magnus had checked his phone since landing. Alec was sure he was tagged in the photo a million times by now, not to mention the fact that he had notifications turned on for Alec (a fact that made Alec immensely happy).

Alec pulled away from Magnus’ grip and straightened his back. “Well, I figured we didn’t have a lot of time to come up with costumes and I wanted to try to think of something before you got here, so we didn’t have to go to the store and…”

Magnus’ face stretched into an amused smile but Alec kept rambling, nervous that Magnus didn’t like the idea despite his reaction.

“Someone suggested vampires on Twitter and…” Alec shrugged. “I thought you’d make a cute vampire.” Alec fell silent finally, bracing himself to hear that Magnus thought his entire costume plan was stupid. Kids dressed up as vampires. Magnus was a celebrity. He wouldn’t want to dress up as a vampire with Alec and go out into public where people would see them. What had Alec ever been thinking?

“You’d make an astoundingly handsome vampire, Alexander.” Magnus said at last.

Alec blinked. “So, you like the idea?” He clarified.

Magnus nodded. “Of course. I love the idea.” Magnus ducked forward and pressed their lips together once again. He seemed far more awake now with the touch of Alec’s lips on his than he had when Alec walked in earlier. Alec had to think that was a good sign. “Besides, I suck at choosing costumes.”

Alec scoffed but Magnus raised a hand and kept talking before Alec could say anything. “Which I know is surprising considering how much I enjoy dressing up but costumes are different. I always pick such complicated costumes and then someone is inevitably upset at what I chose.” Magnus pressed his hand gently against Alec’s chest and Alec felt his stomach burst with warmth. “But vampires are perfect. No one can get mad at vampires.”

Alec grinned. That’s exactly why he’d chosen it. No one could get mad at vampires. It was the most timeless perfect costume to choose and Alec would have never thought of it if it weren’t for Twitter.

Alec was really starting to like Twitter and as far as Alec knew, Twitter really liked him. Everyone on Twitter was always so helpful. They’d suggest costumes. They’d help Alec name his new fish. They’d tell Alec about movies Magnus might like for their movie nights.

Twitter was amazing and Alec didn’t understand why anyone thought differently.

.

About an hour later, Alec posted a photo of he and Magnus posing in the kitchen, each dawning a set of fangs and each wearing capes over the outfits they’d meticulously chosen to match the fake blood that was now splattered on them.

Even later than that, Alec would learn that at fancy parties, most celebrities did not dress up like Alec had imagined they would. Most of them wore expensive suits and dresses from movies to match characters Alec didn’t even recognize but that were apparently timeless.

Needless to say, Alec and Magnus’ vampire costumes were undoubtedly out of place. They were the only people wearing fake blood that night and they were the only people wearing cheap fangs and capes.

Alec was immediately embarrassed but Magnus couldn’t seem more thrilled. He told everyone who would listen that Alec had picked out their costumes. Each time, Alec would flush and look just as embarrassed as the last time but everyone always laughed and seemed to find it just as sweet as Twitter did later that night, when Alec finally scrolled through his notifications to heart some of them.

Alec was still embarrassed. Clearly, he’d misunderstood what a ‘costume party’ meant when you were as famous as Magnus was but when Alec tried to apologize later, Magnus kissed the apology from Alec’s mouth and told him that their costumes had been perfect. Magnus proclaimed that Alec had to choose their costumes every year and that would have been a daunting thought, if Alec didn’t know that Twitter would be right there to help him pick something.

Alec spent extra time playing with Magnus’ hair that night and scrolling through, replying to people and leaving hearts in his digital wake. He just wanted all of Magnus’ fans to know how much he liked them. Later, he tweeted almost exactly that and he received a plethora of hearts in response, as well as a wave of replies gushing about how nice and adorable Alec was - as he did every time he posted something but especially then.

Alec wasn’t really sure about that but he was happy Twitter thought so.

[tehrevving]

Cocked and Loaded

My piece for the @ssszine. I was waiting until I received my copy to post it buuuut it’s been stuck in about 3 different countries now, so I’ve decided to just go for it.

This is a funny fic that doesn’t take itself too seriously. Enjoy!

The bar is so deserted that Dante can’t even find someone to refill his drink. He just sits there, swirling the ice around his empty glass and staring at the strange fruit bowl in front of him. He doesn’t know why there’s one on the bar, or why it’s filled with only bananas and a giant purple fruit that looks like the emoji thing that young people use when they text. If he’s not going to be able to get another drink, he decides to just leave. He stands up, not noticing the woman standing behind him, lower than his eye line. He almost knocks her to the floor. She’s pretty, older but with a bit too much plastic injected into her face for his tastes. 

“Sorry Miss,” he says sheepishly, moving around her. 

She puts a hand on his bicep and squeezes, “don’t worry about it big boy.”

Dante carefully lifts her hand off his arm. She just puts her other hand on his chest. “You’re quite a catch aren’t you Love,” she smiles sincerely, through the face fillers. “I’d popped in here for a drink, but now that I’ve seen you. Well I could go for something a little bit more,” she pauses for dramatic effect. “Salty.”

Dante chokes. He’s never heard that one before and it catches him off guard, especially said with such a serious tone. The man behind the camera sighs.

“Cut!” he yells, and the room comes alive. 

People are running around, adjusting the angle of the spotlights while the director yells. Dante sits back down on the stool and takes a sip of his whisky, shaking his head. He can’t believe he’s actually doing this. 

It was an offer he hadn’t been able to refuse. A simple, quick job attached to a ten thousand dollar cheque. He was already eyeing up a stylish new coat, custom holsters for his guns and the very expensive pizza shop down the road. The catch was the very nature of the job itself. The client wanted him, Dante Sparda, Legendary Devil Hunter, to star in a full frontal pornographic film, for their personal collection. 

Dante needed the cash desperately. He’d been sent a script, a time and an address, and now he was here, thrust into the spotlight and still not really sure what was going on. 

He thought that he would be walking into an amateur type affair. A casting couch in a dark room with a handycam sort of thing. There’s a whole team of people though, including an eccentric director - stupid hat included - who seems incapable of speaking in a volume lower than a shout.

He takes another look at the client, his co-star. She’s a socialite, rich, influential, and apparently a huge fan of his. She’s nice enough even though there’s just something off about her. She doesn’t look quite right when she smiles. She reminds him of the hellspawn he regularly exterminates.  

“One minute warning!”

Dante takes a deep breath and steels himself.

It takes two more attempts for the director to be happy. Dante is already bored of repeating the same thing over and over. He wonders why getting this scene right is such a big deal. It’s not like anyone ever watches the intro to porn films anyway. He just drains his glass and reaches over the bar for the bottle to refill it. 

One of the cameramen is next to him suddenly, grinning. “Are you sure drinking more is a good idea?” he smirks, biting back laughter, “it’s all well and good to calm your nerves, but don’t let it affect your performance. If you catch my drift,” he winks.

Dante rolls his eyes, the great Son of Sparda getting whisky dick? Please. Dante reckons that even flaccid he’s got a bigger cock than this idiot. He downs his drink as the man drags him into the next room.

The director has a megaphone now and is screaming into it. He walks over and puts the speaker right next to Dante’s ear. “All you have to do is let her undress you. Got it?”

Dante nods, desperate to stop the ringing in his ear as he’s dragged to the centre of the room.

“Action!”

His co-star stands in front of him again, she’s tiny. He wonders if the camera can even get both of them in the same frame. 

Dante takes in a breath and puts on his usual act, cocky and carefree. 

“Why, is that a sword in your pants or are you just happy to see me?” she smiles, winking.

Dante struggles not to laugh at the lines, or at the expression on her face. He just follows the script, cocking out his hip. “Why don’t you come a little bit closer and find out Sweetheart,” he purrs flawlessly, finishing off with some finger guns for effect. He’s starting to feel a little bit more relaxed. 

She steps in closer as a wind machine starts up. The sound almost deafening. Dante feels the breeze push at his hair and uses his heightened senses to time the shrug of his shoulders. His coat falls off his shoulders effortlessly, fluttering stylishly to the floor.

The wind machine stops and he shakes out his long hair. He flexes his arms and reaches up, over his head. He pulls off his shirt, struggling not to get caught in the fabric or mess up his hair. Sure, it’s an impractical way to take off a shirt, but he saw it in a movie once and thought it looked pretty sweet. 

She stands up on her toes and starts licking at his neck and then his hairy chest. His skin is covered with saliva when she pulls away and it feels pretty gross. She works her way down his body until she’s half crouching to be level with his crotch. The cameraman moves to get the shot, getting tangled up in the cables. Dante tries not to laugh. He tries to look sexy instead. Like he’s excited to have a desperate woman kneeling between his legs, instead of apprehensive.

She traces her hands down his thighs and works quickly down to his boots. She licks the buckle and uses her teeth to pull the zipper down. Dante notices, as she pulls off his shoe, that everyone in the room is staring at his feet.

“Cut!”

The director storms over, his voice distorted static through the megaphone. “What are those?!”

Dante looks down, “my socks?” he questions, wiggling his toes inside of his lucky, pizza print sock. 

The director groans, holding his head in his hands.

“Costuming!”

They take away Dante’s favourite sock and the mismatched pink strawberry print one from his other foot. He’s given replacement socks that are boring and plain black. He’s just managed to get them on when an assistant appears and throws all of his previously discarded clothes at him. Dante gets dressed again.

He can’t believe he has to go through it all again. He has a lot less enthusiasm during the next take. His coat falls dismally to the floor and he takes his shirt off the normal way because he’s not going to risk stretching the neck out. Eventually they get back to where they were, and then further. Now she’s crouched awkwardly in front of him, working on his fly. 

She rubs her face all over his clothed cock. He’s not really hard yet but not one seems to have noticed. It’s all going well so far. She undoes his fly and slowly pulls his pants lower. She works seductively, dragging the fabric down his legs while biting her lip. Dante cocks out his hip while the camera pans around him.

“Cut!”

The director is utterly irate this time, stalking towards Dante like he’s going to murder him. “Your underwear,” he spits. Dante twists around. He’d accidentally put on his smokin hot black briefs this morning, the ones with the word ‘sexy’ stamped across the ass in giant, holographic letters. 

His co-star turns, struggling not to laugh. “I don’t think those are a problem.”

The director stares at her like she has two heads but quickly relents. 

They don’t have to redo the whole scene again apparently. Dante’s just glad he doesn’t have to get dressed again, or deal with the wind machine. He just does his pants back up and they go from there. There’s only one more hitch on the next take. She’s a little bit too enthusiastic ripping off his underwear and his semi-hard cock springs up. Hitting her solidly in the face. She’s not hurt, but she’s definitely a little bit shaken up. The next time they try the take, she makes sure to hold him steady with her hand.  

There’s a team of people adjusting a stool in front of him. His co-star kneels on it and they mess around trying to get her high enough to comfortably reach his cock. Dante tries to play it cool. He’s starting to feel a little bit out of his depth, now that she’s about to properly touch him. 

The director turns to Dante. “Get ready,” he scoffs and makes a jerking motion with his fist. Gross. 

Dante has never had any problems with his performance, even with an audience. It’s different in the dark recesses of a strip club though, compared to harsh lights and critical stares. He ignores them, reaching down and stroking his cock a few times. He quickly gets into it, adding in a twist of his wrist here and there. It feels good. 

The director fawns over him, tells him to bend his knees, cock out his hip, tense his butt. Dante tries his best to follow the contradicting directions, ignoring the strain in his thighs. 

“Action!”

It’s now or never. She reaches out and wraps a hand firmly around the thick base of his cock. She strokes him a few times, making exaggerated movements while she leans her face in closer. She holds him in place and then sticks out her tongue. 

Dante is watching closely. There’s something not right with her tongue. It’s slightly too long and flicks out strangely from between her lips. Her grip tightens painfully around the base of his cock. He hears her hiss. “Gotcha!”

Dante recoils. Managing to pull himself back just in time. Her maw crunches down on the empty air where beloved lil’ Dante was only moments ago.

She crouches to the floor, splayed out with too long limbs. “Famed Devil Hunter,” she hisses, staring at him with glowing, slitted eyes. “You’ve fallen right into our trap. Let us see how strong you really are, aroused, naked and without any weapons.”

Dante doesn’t need to look around the room. The grotesque snapping sounds echoing off the walls tell him that everyone else in the room is transforming too. She takes a step back as the others gang up on him. 

This is his element though. He can handle a fight. “Oh, Darling,” he taunts, “I’m always fully loaded.” He winks and flies head first into battle. 

The creatures aren’t strong. Dante doesn’t need weapons. His bare fists are strong enough to puncture through their squishy chests. He has fun, backflipping and dancing around. It’s interesting, getting to fight with parts of his body that he doesn’t normally. He laughs, snapping necks with his thighs. Yelling out, “cut” and “action” as he slams disfigured faces to the ground. It’s easy to improvise, though he has to be careful not to bang his large adrenaline filled erection on the furniture. 

Far too soon for his liking, it’s just the woman and the director - stupid hat still perched on his reptilian head - left. The director stalks forward, looking just as agitated as he had when he looked human. He’s so focused on Dante that he doesn’t notice the camera cable, stretched taut and hidden by streaming corpses. He trips. Dante watches it play out in slow motion. The director flails, trying to keep his balance. His hat flies off his head. There’s a pause and a click as the swinging cable flicks the fan blades on. Dante can’t tear his eyes away from the director’s horrified face. He screams as the sharp blades slice through him and paint the walls with his blood.  

The client is furious now. She screeches at him. The sound threatens to shatter the windows. Dante throws a quick come hither motion in her direction, goading her on. She lunges forwards. 

It’s an accident, honestly. Dante was having way too much fun. He wanted to capture her, interrogate her, find out exactly what was going on here, who sent them. But it wasn’t to be. It wasn’t that he mistimed his stylish double pike backflip exactly, it was more that she anticipated his movement and decided to attack him with her teeth.

Her head swung back as he twisted. Neither her nor Dante though have accounted for the unrestrained and exceptionally lethal weapon between his legs. His dick hits her solidly in the neck. He has too much momentum. He doesn’t stop spinning. Her neck splits with a pop as her decapitated head flies across the room. 

Dante stops moving as quickly as he can. Frantically inspecting his makeshift sword for any damage. There’s a little bit of devil gore, but otherwise everything is intact. He sighs with relief as he looks around the room. 

Dante sneaks out of the apartment through the back window, dropping into the bushes below. He’s haphazardly dressed, already having put on and taken his clothes off way too many times today. He leaves the mess of bodies and equipment as they are. Not his problem. He steals the bottle of booze though, along with the strange purple fruit from the bowl and the tape from the camera, which has ‘Cocked and Loaded’ scrawled across the front of it.

He starts the slow, long walk back to the office, still broke. He’s pretty sure that the large cheque he has in his pocket is gonna bounce. He turns the purple fruit around in his hands and then takes a bite. It’s disgusting. He throws it away. Why would anyone want to eat that?

He can’t believe that he’s walking away empty handed. He’d been so confident this job was going to work out. He pats the tape in his pocket, glad he has it as a souvenir. He’s almost giddy, thinking about watching it later tonight in private. He’s already decided that he’s never gonna show it to anyone else, and even if it never really got juicy… well, he figures at least one person should jerk off to it.

[soyforramen]

Prompt: betty, jughead, the same hooded/masked figure keeps showing up at their door on Halloween. Creepy or funny? Your choice!

(This is so much better than trying to figure out elasticity of demand, and I absolutely cracked myself up with this, so thank you)

xxx

“Howdy neighbor!” 

Jughead gritted his teeth and nodded at Brett.  Betty elbowed him in the side, smoothly turning it into a wave. While neither of them really liked their neighbors across the street (at least it wasn’t Donna outside setting up the Halloween display), they had to pretend to be polite for a little while.

“Good morning Brett!  Already hard at work I take it.”

“Someone’s got to take back the Pumpkin King title from Southside Lane,” Brett said as he leaned on his pitchfork.  His truck was loaded up with enough hay bales and pumpkins to start a petting zoo.  “Let’s bring some pride back to this neighborhood.”

“It’s fucking September,” Jughead muttered. 

In Brett’s yard was the most benign, suburban version of Halloween.  Pumpkins carved with emojis, hay bales impaled with cartoonish, oversized bats, and gravestones with terrible puns (though Betty had to admit the, I was hoping for a pyramid was pretty amusing).  It was everything that Jughead hated about Halloween, and Betty couldn’t help but be tickled at the thought of him having to see it every morning.  

Jughead grumbled, the rain clouds over his head darkening with every second spent looking at the set up.  

“Good luck with it.  Looking good,” Betty called out.  She herded Jughead and the rest of the groceries into the car, already stifling a laugh at the rant she knew would be coming. 

Nancy Thompson let out a scream just as a knock came from the door.  Jughead and Betty glanced at each other - neither were expecting company, nor had they ordered anything.  Betty set aside her laptop and padded towards the door.  She peeked through the peephole and gasped.  

“Jughead,” she hissed.  

He glanced up and she waved him over.

“What the hell?” he whispered when he looked through the peephole.  “Is that -“

“Somebody dressed up in a Regan mask?” 

“I knew this place was upper middle class, but …”

“But why?” 

Jughead stepped away from the door and shrugged.  “Probably a bunch of high school kids playing a prank.”  

“Still…”

Betty stood on tip-toe to peer through the door.  “And, they’re gone.  I’m going to post this on Nextdoor, certainly we can’t be the only ones who’ve had Regan show up at their door.”

“Honestly zombie Regan would be the best thing that could happen this year,” Jughead said as he walked back to the couch.  

“I’d rather have zombie Nixon.  At least he was impeached,” Betty said, following him to watch Glenn fall into a deep sleep.

Xxx

One week later, and they were watching Keanu Reeves go on a face journey through Transylvania.  The door rang, and Jughead groaned.  Betty snuggled in closer to his side and they both ignored the doorbell.  Insistently, it rang again and again, only to stop suddenly.  He untangled himself from her and went to the door.

“I swear, if it’s Archie needing a ladder again … It’s Obama,” he whispered.

“What?” 

Jughead shushed her.  “I think it’s that weirdo again.  Only they’re in an Obama mask this time.”

Betty rushed towards the door and pushed him aside.  “What the hell?”

As she watched, the figure turned and walked off into the darkness of night.  She waited until the figure left, and cracked open the door.  

“Gone again.”  Jughead stepped onto front porch, Betty close behind, but they couldn’t see any sign of life.  “What did your Nextdoor people have to say.”

“You mean our neighbors?” Betty shook her head and pulled out her phone.  “No one else has seen anything, but Mr. Tate’s cat escaped again, so you might want to slow down when you turn the corner.”

“Hey guys!”  

They turned to find Archie, their next door neighbor, waving at them from his garage.  

“Do you think I could borrow your ladder?”

Xxxx

Two weeks until Halloween, and the neighborhood had exploded in festive decorations.  The Blossoms’ two story manse had exploded in gothic horror decor imported from the south of France - “Allegedly,” Jughead had snarked - while the Lodge-Andrews had gone with simple, yet tasteful hints of the season.   Along with the change in temperature had come an orange, passive-aggressive reminder about the HOA’s suggestion that every house participate in celebrating the holidays as a way to join the neighborhood in camaraderie. 

“Let’s just put out a pumpkin -“

“No, not happening,” Jughead snapped.  “I didn’t buy a house just to have some yuppie board - who aren’t even elected -“

“Just because you protested voting doesn’t mean they weren’t elected,” Betty reminded him. 

“-Trying to control how I spend my time and money, it’s, it’s…”

“Un-American?” 

“Immoral!  To take a commercial holiday like Halloween, meant to sell more candy and increase dental decay, and turn it into some requirement -“

A knock at the door and a cheery voice cut through their argument.  They both cursed when they realized who it was.  Jughead stalked off to the basement and Betty made a mental note that this was the third time he’d left her to deal with the Westen Wallis’ alone.  

“For better or worse my ass,” she muttered as she went to the door.  

“Guten Morgen, neighbors!  Donna made of her famous delectable pumpkin Tartts’ Tarts -“

“Tarts from the tart,” Betty muttered before she opened the door with a wide smile.  “Why thank you, this is ever so thoughtful.  And me without anything else to send back with you.”

Brett’s smile grew, and Betty feared for her soul.  “Actually, I don’t know if you saw the flyer -“

“Yes, about the Halloween decorations?  I just don’t know if we’ll get to it this year.  Jughead’s been so busy with school, and I’ve -“

“It’s just that it’s a traditions, you know.  And we do it for the kids,” Brett said.  Betty slowly shut the door, but he continued moving to keep eye contact.  “It’s the talk of the town, and it would -“

His words muffled and Betty walked straight to the kitchen and dumped the tarts into the trash.  

“You owe me Jones,” she yelled out on her way upstairs.

xxx

“Why doesn’t she just go outside again?” Betty asked. 

Black Christmas, while not technically a horror movie, was still on Jughead’s required October Horror-Thon, as well as on his anti-commerical-Christmas playlist.  Despite seeing it twice a year for the last fifteen years, Betty still hadn’t gotten a good answer out of him for the seemingly huge plot idiocy.

“Horror movie rules,” Jughead said through a mouthful of popcorn.  “If she goes outside, they don’t have a way to establish how big of a threat the killer is.”

“Then why doesn’t he just wait outside to kill her?”

“That’s not -“

A knock came from the door, and Betty gave him a look.  

“I dealt with your neighbor this morning.”

“You’re right, it was terrible and treacherous of me, I’m a terrible husband,” Jughead said.  He kissed Betty on the tip of her nose and she pulled him down to meet his lips.  The knock came again and they both rolled their eyes.  

“Don’t forget to put out your pumpkin,” Betty called in a sing-song voice. “Who is it this time?”

“Taft or Cleveland.  Which one had a mustache?” he asked as he turned towards her. 

“Both of them I think.”

“Do you think if I tell them we’re socio-anarchists they’ll go away?”

Betty snorted.  

He opened the door and leaned over.  “At least they left a ransom note this time.”  

Jughead closed the door and double checked the locks while he waved an orange paper at Betty.  

“Let me guess, decorations?” Betty took the paper from him and squinted at the paper.  “Does that say pumpkin or party favor?”

“Either way I refuse to participate.  Did you fast forward this?”

xxx

The day before Halloween, and Jughead braced himself for the onslaught of gaudy, irredeemable tons of plastic and paper decorations that would end up in the trash two days later.  A waste of good materials, and all for what?  A waste of a perfectly good holiday, that’s what.  

He squinted against the morning sun, throwing his school bag into the back of the car.  Seven AM came far too early when all the parents wanted to argue about last night was whether or not Halloween costumes should be allowed rather than thinking about shifting some of the football budget towards something more useful, like new textbooks.  

“Ohayogozimasu!”  Brett chirped from across the street. He looked both ways - twice - and jogged his way over to where Jughead stood.  

Jughead dropped his head and counted to ten.  He wasn’t caffeinated enough for this. 

“Hello, Brett.”

“I see you haven’t put anything out for Halloween yet.  I have some extra decorations if you want.”

Murder is not an option, Jughead thought in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Betty.  Especially when my commute is only ten minutes, the voice reminded him.

“No, thank you Brett.”

“Are you sure?  Because I know you and Betty have only been here for a few months, but we’re all really big -“

“No, thank you, Brett,” Jughead said through gritted teeth.  

Brett held up his hands and smiled that inane politician smile of his.  “Okay, but if you change your mind…”

“Goodbye, Brett,” Jughead said as he opened his door.  Safe in his now locked car, Jughead dropped his head to the steering wheel and reminded himself that they’d moved here because of Betty, for Betty’s career, and it didn’t matter how idiotic the rest of the world was, not when -

A tapping on the glass and Jughead rethought over the consequences of manslaughter.  Ten to fifteen wouldn’t be that bad.

“Yes, Brett,” he said after he’d cracked the glass.

“Just wanted to remind you that me and the missus are having a little get together tonight about Halloween candy -“

Jughead slipped the car in reverse and let it roll towards the street.  Brett jogged to catch up.

“-After all, we don’t want the children -“

It wasn’t until Bon Nuit street that Brett finally peeled off to finish his early morning jog on Stonewall street, that Jughead could breath a sigh a relief.

Xxx

“That was ad libbed,” Jughead said through a mouthful of noodles.

“What?  The dominatrix suit?” Betty asked.  She stole his wonton and he put up a fight even though they both knew he’d have given her his entire order if she asked.

“‘Jesus wept.’  Originally it was supposed to be ‘Fuck off.’”

“Good change.”

The knock at the door came again, and both residents slammed their bowls down.  Together they walked to the door and jerked it open.  George Washington, sans dentures, stared at them.  

“Well?  What do you want?” Betty asked, arms crossed.

The figure held out a sheet, and Jughead shook his head.   “No more games.”

With a growl, the figure yanked off the mask to reveal …

“Donna?” 

“Put out a damn pumpkin,” Donna snapped.  “I have been listening to Brett bitch for the last month, and if I have to listen to one more -“ she pitched up her voice and in a simpering tone said, “-Betty and Jughead I will murder everyone on this block.” 

Donna threw the paper at Jughead and stalked off into the night.  

“And put up a damn snowman in December,” she yelled.

Betty and Jughead exchanged glances.  

“No decorations?”  she asked.

He smirked.  “No decorations.”