#then what would we give away our leftovers in

[aceyalonso]

F1 drivers if they were on the r/AITAH subreddit

drivers : oscar piastri, lando norris, charles leclerc, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, max verstappen, george russell, franco colapinto

warnings/notes : jos verstappen 🤮

a/n : i know i said i was on hiatus but c'mon this was such a fun idea

main masterlist | taglist form

So this might sound weird, but here goes. My girlfriend and I (both 23) love visiting new places, and she’s a big animal lover. She found this adorable cat café nearby and has been talking about going for weeks. I wasn’t as excited but figured it’d be fun to surprise her, so I booked us a spot and thought I’d try to make it extra special.

Here’s the thing: I wanted to be "that guy" who shows up with a bag of cat treats so all the cats would flock to us. It sounds ridiculous, but my goal was to make her day. When we got there, I pulled out the treats and instantly had a few cats’ attention. My girlfriend laughed, but within a few minutes, an employee came over, looking annoyed, and told me I couldn't give the cats treats from outside.

Apparently, they have specific diets or something, and I was "interfering." I apologized, put the treats away, and thought that was the end of it. But soon after, another employee came up, saying we were being "disruptive" because all the cats were lingering around us, and they even hinted we might need to leave if it didn’t stop. I hadn’t meant to cause a scene and told them it wasn’t a big deal—we’d stop and just hang out like everyone else. But by this point, my girlfriend was pretty embarrassed, and it killed the vibe of our day.

We left a bit earlier than planned, and now my girlfriend thinks it was a bit of a jerk move, even though she appreciated the effort. I didn’t mean to upset anyone or break the rules, just thought it’d be fun to make the cats a bit more social. But now I’m wondering if I messed up by not sticking to the café’s way of doing things.

So, AITAH?

Edit: I’ve learned my lesson. I will never underestimate the dietary regulations of a cat café ever again.

So, I (24M) have this bad habit of forgetting what’s in my fridge. A while ago, I bought some chicken, but I totally forgot about it, and it just sat there for months. I was cleaning out my fridge the other day and found the chicken at the back, and it still looked fine to me—didn’t smell bad, didn’t look weird—so I thought, "Why not? It’s still good."

I cooked it up, had a nice meal, and didn’t think much of it. But then, later that night, I told my mom about it (thinking she'd just laugh), and she completely freaked out. She went on this whole rant about food safety, salmonella, and how I could’ve poisoned myself. I was just like, "It tasted fine, mom, calm down."

She kept texting me all night asking if I felt okay, if I was getting any stomach pains, and even called a few of my friends to check in on me. Honestly, I’m fine—nothing happened, and I feel perfectly normal.

But now she’s upset with me, saying I’m being careless and that I should never eat food that old, even if it seems fine. I just didn’t think it would be that big of a deal. I mean, people eat leftovers all the time, right? It wasn’t even that old.

So, AITAH for eating chicken that’s been in my fridge for 9 months and making my mom worry unnecessarily?

Edit: Just to clarify, I didn’t intentionally keep it for 9 months. I honestly just forgot about it in the back of the fridge. And no, I’m not sick. Everything’s fine. I promise I won’t be eating anything old again anytime soon!

I (27M) have a dog, Leo, who’s basically my best friend. He’s super friendly and well-behaved, and honestly, I just feel better when he’s around. I bring him everywhere I go – to cafes, parks, and friend gatherings. You name it, Leo’s there. Most people are fine with it because he’s adorable and loves everyone.

Recently, though, my friends have started making comments about it. Last weekend, we met up at this small, cozy café for brunch, and I brought Leo along. He just curled up next to my chair and didn’t bother anyone. But my friend Paul pulled me aside afterward and said it was kind of annoying that I kept bringing Leo without asking. He said not everyone wants a dog around all the time, and it’s “getting old.”

I don’t understand where this is coming from, especially since Leo’s never caused any problems. I figured since no one had said anything before, they were fine with it. Plus, I’m always careful to keep him out of people’s way, and he’s honestly better behaved than most dogs I know. I feel like they’re making a big deal out of nothing, but now I’m wondering if maybe I should have checked with everyone first.

So, AITAH for always bringing my dog? Should I have asked before assuming everyone was okay with it?

Edit: Just for context, Leo’s a small dog – not the type to jump on people or bark a lot. He just sits quietly and naps most of the time. Also, I’ve always cleaned up after him when necessary, so he hasn’t left any “souvenirs” for anyone to deal with.

So, I (39M) have this friend, Nico (also 39M), and we’ve been friends since we were kids. We’re both super competitive by nature, and we tend to push each other a lot. Whether it’s video games, sports, or even something like mini-golf, everything somehow turns into a competition between us. It’s mostly just for fun… until recently.

A few weeks ago, we were at a friend’s birthday party, and they had one of those racing setups in the living room. Of course, Nico and I immediately challenged each other, and we both got really into it. I mean, I might’ve been trash-talking a bit (okay, maybe a lot), but we were both laughing, so I didn’t think it was a big deal.

Well, I ended up beating him by a fraction of a second, and I might’ve celebrated a bit too enthusiastically—think victory lap around the living room, calling him out in front of everyone, the whole deal. After that, Nico got pretty quiet and didn’t talk to me much for the rest of the night. Later, a mutual friend told me that Nico felt like I was “rubbing it in,” and it embarrassed him.

Now I feel bad. I honestly thought we were just having fun and didn’t realize he’d take it so personally. I tried to apologize, but he just brushed it off and hasn’t really been himself around me since.

So… AITAH for taking things a bit too far with my friend, or was it all just part of the usual friendly rivalry?

Edit: We’ve always had this kind of back-and-forth, so I’m not sure why this time it got to him. Just thought I’d get some outside perspective before I bring it up with him again.

Okay, I know this sounds insane, but hear me out. I (30M) love making pancakes, and I’m pretty proud of my recipe. It’s become sort of a tradition to make them for my family when I visit my parents. They’re always really nice about it and say they love them, but... I’m starting to think they’ve just been too polite.

A few weeks ago, I was at my parents’ house and decided to whip up a big batch of pancakes for breakfast. My mom and dad both had seconds, and I thought it was a win. But later that night, my mom started having really bad stomach pains. We took her to the hospital, and she ended up needing surgery for appendicitis. It was a scary experience, but thankfully, she’s okay now.

Here’s where it gets weirder. Just a few days after my mom came home from the hospital, my dad started having the same symptoms. At first, we joked that it was sympathy pains, but he ended up in the ER too, with the exact same issue—appendicitis.

Now my whole family is convinced it was my pancakes. I know logically that my cooking can’t cause appendicitis, but I can’t help but feel responsible because they both got sick right after eating my breakfast. My parents keep joking that they’re never eating my pancakes again, and my siblings have been giving me a hard time about it, saying I’m banned from the kitchen.

So, AITAH for giving both my parents appendicitis with my cooking, or am I just an unlucky chef?

Edit: Just to clarify, I don’t actually think I gave them appendicitis, but the timing is very suspicious, and now my parents are scared of my pancakes. I might need a new family recipe...

So, I (27M) have two cats (Jimmy & Sassy), and they’re pretty much my babies. They’re super affectionate with me but can be a bit picky about who they like. My dad (52M), on the other hand, isn’t exactly a "cat person." He’s more of the “why do you have pets that don’t do anything useful?” type, but he still visits often and tolerates them because he knows they’re important to me.

The other day, my dad came over, and as usual, my cats were lounging on the couch. He decided to sit down and give them a little nudge to move over, but instead of just shuffling away, one of my cats (Jimmy) swiped at his face. It wasn’t a deep scratch, but it was enough to leave a red mark and get my dad pretty annoyed. I couldn’t help but laugh a bit because he was acting all grumpy about it, muttering something about "those spoiled cats."

He got even more annoyed when he saw me laughing and said I should discipline my cats better and not let them scratch people. I tried explaining that cats are territorial and react like that when they’re suddenly pushed, especially by someone they’re not used to. I offered him a band-aid, but he refused and ended up leaving earlier than planned.

Now my mom is telling me I should’ve been more sympathetic and that I should’ve scolded my cat instead of laughing. But honestly, I feel like it was just a normal cat reaction, and my dad knows how they can be. So now I’m wondering, AITAH for laughing when my cat scratched my dad’s face instead of taking it more seriously?

Edit: Just to clarify, my cats don’t usually attack people. They’re very cuddly with me and my friends, but my dad’s not around them enough for them to be comfortable. I’ll definitely make sure he approaches them differently next time... if he ever wants to come back!

So, this might sound a bit weird, but hear me out. I (26M) work at this company, and my boss, "Toto" (52M), and I have a really good relationship. We get along great, share a lot of common interests, and he’s been a bit of a mentor to me. We hang out outside of work sometimes, and every now and then, I’ll stay over at his place after we have dinner or watch a game, just because it’s more convenient.

Recently, my friends found out about this and started making fun of me, calling it “sleepovers” with my boss. I laughed it off at first, but they’ve started saying it’s kind of weird and unprofessional to be that close with your boss. They’re acting like I’m trying to suck up or get some kind of special treatment, but that’s honestly not the case. I just enjoy his company, and we have a good time hanging out.

The thing is, I never really mentioned it to my friends before because it just didn’t seem like a big deal. I figured if I told them, they’d blow it out of proportion (which is exactly what’s happening now). But now they’re saying it’s odd that I didn’t bring it up sooner and that it’s kind of strange to be having “sleepovers” with someone who’s technically in charge of me at work.

So, AITAH for not telling my friends that I sometimes crash at my boss’s place, or are they just overreacting?

Edit: For context, it’s not like I’m staying there every weekend or anything. It’s maybe once a month if we’re having a late night and it’s easier than going all the way back to my place. Plus, he’s got a massive guest room, so it’s not like I’m sleeping on the couch or something. It’s just a practical arrangement

Okay, so I (21M) have a bit of a problem, and I’m honestly not sure if it’s even a problem or just something I can’t control. I’ve noticed lately that whenever I’m doing interviews or talking to reporters, I end up coming off as flirting with them, even though I’m not trying to at all.

I’m naturally a friendly person, and I like to joke around and be engaging. But I’ve had a few reporters (and even some photographers) tell me after interviews that I’ve been “charming” or “too smooth” with them. Some of them even hinted that I was “leading them on.” The thing is, I don’t even notice it happening. I just talk to them like I would anyone else, but apparently, I’m making it seem like I’m flirting—without even trying!

One reporter even gave me her number after an interview, and when I asked if she was just being friendly, she said, “You were a little more than friendly.” I was totally confused because I thought we were just having a good conversation about racing. Now I’m worried that I’m giving the wrong impression to people without meaning to, and I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings or make things uncomfortable.

So, AITAH for accidentally flirting with reporters and leading them on when I really don’t mean to? Should I tone down my "natural charm"?

Edit: Just to clarify, I’m not trying to flirt with anyone, reporter or not. I’m just being myself, but it seems like it’s coming off differently than I intended. It’s a bit awkward now, and I’m wondering if I should change how I interact in interviews.

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[reginamillls]

as someone from the Midwest, they did not give Bobby Nash enough Midwesternisms

[moonstruckme]

roomate jamess 😭😭😭💓💓🤍😭😭💓

I agree !

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!james x shy!reader ♡ 733 words

James gets the text just as he arrives home: Are you hungry?

He grins, putting his car in park as he types out a reply. 

I’m wounded. We’re coming up on our one-month roommate anniversary, and you still don’t know I’m always hungry? 

This makes a grand total of four texts between the two of you. You’d conversed a bit more on Craigslist before agreeing to let James move in with you, but barely. Your radio silence is much like your actual silence, but he’s happy to be making a dent in either. 

Your response comes while he’s fishing his keys out of his pocket. Sorry. Want thai?

James laughs, opening the door and toeing off his shoes. He calls in the general direction of your room, “I hope you’re joking about being sorry.” 

He’s hoping for maybe a reply via text, so it comes as a pleasant surprise when you appear on the stairs. You move like a ghost; if he put you and Remus in an old manor together, James is half sure it’d qualify as a haunted house. 

You’re in your pajamas, which means you must already be done with work for the day. James has noticed this is one of your habits; once you’ve decided you’re staying in the house, your outside clothes hit the hamper and you’re living in fuzzy socks. These ones, standing halfway up the staircase, are blue with white stars. Something about seeing you in full cozy mode makes James’ stomach twinge. 

“Do you want Thai?” you ask again, longer and in person. Several decibels quieter than he’d just been.

“Sure.” James gives you a smile, flopping backwards over the arm of the couch. He was going to cook pasta for dinner, but he’s a bit tired anyway and agreeing to the first bonding opportunity you’ve offered him takes precedence. “Do you wanna use my card, or should I pay you after?” 

“Don’t.” You wave him off, already typing on your phone. “I’m getting it.” 

“Not happening,” James replies. He starts digging in his pocket for his wallet, unearthing a half dozen gum wrappers and a receipt from last March. “But in theory, to what do I owe the honor?” 

Your eyes flit to him, something like accusation in them. James feels his eyebrows lift. “I know you don’t have that many leftovers,” you say. 

So, you’re onto him. “I cook a lot,” he replies with a shrug. “If there’s extra, someone should eat it.” 

“But why not you?” 

“Why not you?” he counters. 

You look suspiciously as though you might be biting down on a smile. A real one. “The point is, I owe you at least a meal. Do you want to see the menu?” 

“Sure, thanks.” He reaches out a hand. You come down the stairs to give him your phone, but once it’s in his hand your eyes narrow mistrustfully, fingers tightening on the device. 

“If you try to pay,” you tell him, “I’ll hide the money in your room so you don’t find it until you move out.” 

A laugh bubbles up out of him at your serious tone. “We live together, babe. I think I’ll come across it at some point.” 

“Not with your room as messy as it is.” 

Damn it, you’re right. “Fine.” James holds up his hands in surrender, credit card between his fingers. “But when I make dinner tomorrow, just eat it while it’s hot, yeah? Let’s do away with the pretense.” 

You sigh through your nose, sitting down beside him with one leg curled under you. You’re attempting something that’s probably supposed to be a glare. James would hate to have to tell you how unintimidating it is, but he may if you keep it up much longer; it’s almost too adorable to take. 

“I appreciate it, but you really don’t need to cook for me,” you say. “I eat plenty when you’re not here.” 

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

“That’s the point, James.” You roll your eyes, looking halfway amused. Shit, the day he actually makes you laugh he’s gonna have to bake a cake. “You’re not here to see it.” 

“Do you wanna watch a movie while we eat?” He passes you back your phone, having added his order to your cart. “They’ve just added a slew of new movies to Netflix. Also, for tomorrow, do you prefer pasta or chicken?” 

[starryhyuck]

can’t get you out of my mind. (m) — PREVIEW

pairing: alpha!jaehyun x afab!omega!reader

words: 16.2k+

summary: the ceremony to choose your alpha mate has arrived.

genre: fluff, angst, smut

warnings: outdated gender roles/stereotypes, some women hating women dynamics (that resolves in the end), mentions of war, mentions of loss during childbirth, disapproval of in-laws, possessive!jaehyun, pregnancy, breeding kink, tiny bit of face riding, bigdick!jaehyun, squirting, knotting, nonstop fucking between jaehyun and reader, public sex, mating

release date: october 24, 2024

this fic is already released for early access to the $5 tier on my patreon, which you can access here!

“You silly omegas.”

You jump nearly three feet in the air, gasping and holding your hand to your chest. You swivel around to see Jaehyun standing behind you, arms crossed and eyebrows raised in amusement.

“A-Alpha Jeong,” you stutter, bowing your head. “I apologize, I wasn’t aware-“

“You omegas are always starving yourselves in front of us. When are you going to realize alphas are never settled when our omegas aren’t taken care of?” He questions, stepping beside you and taking out the leftover steak in the fridge.

You keep your eyes planted to the ground as he moves around you, heating up the meal on the stove.

“Alpha Jeong, you don’t have to-“

“Just call me Jaehyun,” he interrupts gruffly. “Alpha Jeong this, Alpha Kim that- all the rules get so tedious.”

You flush in embarrassment. “We shouldn’t be alone together without an elder present.”

“Another rule,” he sighs, using two fingers to lift your chin up. You meet his gaze head on. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

You swallow, blinking slowly at him. Being this close to an alpha while unmated is against all commands of the elders and betrays every ounce of your omega training, but you nod and say, “Okay.”

“Besides, the elders sleep like they’re dead anyways,” he says with familiarity, which makes you realize that Jaehyun’s grown up around all the elders who have accompanied you to the ceremony because he’s next in line to become head alpha. He steps back from you and resumes cooking at the stove. “So,” he starts, humming. “The Handbook for Dressmaking is a riveting thriller, isn’t it?” He asks you with a smirk playing at the edge of his lips.

“Oh,” you mumble, wringing your hands nervously. “Yes, I believe it was the top book for the omegas in our district.”

He chuckles. “What’s your actual favorite book? Be honest.” He takes out a cutting board and slowly starts peeling the skin of one of the apples on the counter.

“Um- t-that is my favorite book, Alpha-“ you stop and clear your throat, correcting yourself. “Jaehyun.”

“You omegas,” he repeats with a shake of his head. “Always lying, trying to say what you think is the right thing. I don’t want to hear the dictation from your mother’s handbook. I want to hear your real opinion.”

Your heart beats rapidly in your chest. You’ve never told another being about straying away from the traditional omega values. Jaehyun looks at you with an impatient expression, however, and you can’t bring yourself to lie to the next head alpha.

“History retellings about the war are my favorite,” you confess in a gentle voice. His eyebrows raise in surprise. “They provide me with a picture of what we needed to do to succeed as the dominant species.”

It’s not ladylike in the slightest to assimilate oneself to such acts of violence, and you’re certain this would be the final nail in the coffin to ward Jaehyun far from you. Instead, he smiles.

“That’s a new one,” he laughs. “And the children? As many as the moon grants you?”

It’s no secret that after the war, many omegas don’t find it as easy to give birth as they used to. The lingering chemicals and difficult winters led to harsher environments for omegas to successfully carry a pup to term. Nowadays, omegas who strive for more than four children sign their own death sentence. Regardless of the staggering data, the elders teach all omegas that they must give birth to as many pups as the moon will grant them.

“Two,” you whisper, shifting your stare from him and towards the wall. “Just two would satisfy me.”

He hums again, but makes no effort to scold you for your admission. You expect the son of the head alpha to be more strict on the nation’s laws surrounding omega submission, but Jaehyun breaks out of the mold you initially assumed of him.

He slides a warm plate on the counter, filled with the delicious food you resisted eating hours ago.

“Eat well, omega. I thank you for your honesty.”

When he exits the kitchen, your mind reels over the thought that not all alphas are as bad as you believed them to be.

want to read the rest of this fic now? access the $5 tier on my patreon here!

[kquil]

JAMES POTTER | 16:49 ⏤ FREE GOODIES

SUM. : you had more baked goods than you were able to sell and decide to give them out for free to the firefighters at your local fire station to say thank you

TAGS. : fluff ; modern au ; muggle au ; baker reader ; firefighter james ; james being a love sick puppy ; he hides it well though ; remus and sirius begin scheming ; everyone knows james is in love ; it's obvious to everyone but you

LENGTH : 1.6k

NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

“No! Don’t tell me!” you giggle as the man behind the counter grins widely and laughs along with you, his hazel eyes carefully watching as you bring up a brown paper bag and a steaming take-away cup of coffee, “Our special BLT sandwich and a dark roast, cocoa blend to go,”

“All ready for me, huh?” James teases as you smile innocently. He pays for his order and goes to inspect the contents of the brown paper bag as you move behind the cash register and file away his notes, “And a mini treacle tart!” James’ voice lights up in cheerful surprise when he sees the unexpected treat but hurriedly goes in search for more payment in his wallet. 

“Don’t you dare, James,” you scold light-heartedly, “it’s on the house,” his movements stop and he meets your eyes, ready to retaliate. However, sensing your seriousness, his shoulders slacken and his expression eases into a grateful smile instead. 

“Thanks, you’re an angel,” of course, he couldn’t help but send you a wink. His words spread a heat across your cheeks but you pay it no mind, hoping that any signs of your flustered state can be ignored as long as you didn’t draw attention to it. 

“I know I am~” 

“Take care, angel,” with a toothy grin and a wave, James turns and leaves, his day already looking as bright as could be. 

James has been visiting your little bakery and cafe for the better part of a year now; he’s become one of your beloved regulars, maybe one of your most beloved. He was just too handsome and charming for his own good, cute and sweet and always gentleman with you. His uncontrollable dark curls and round glasses gave him this boyish appeal that you couldn’t help but fall for. His voice is smooth and comforting, his eyes a mesmerising hazel, his lips a pretty shape—

“Hey!” snapping out of your daze, you turn to your co-worker in shock.

“Wh-what?”

She smirks and wiggles her brows at you, “I knew you had a thing for him,”

“Oh shush Leona!” you huff and fold your arms but burn hotter in the cheeks when she laughs at you. 

“No need to deny it, I can see why you’re so head over heels~”

“Is that any way to talk to your boss?” making your way over, you playfully nudge her side as you plant yourself beside her and help with the cupcake decorations. 

Gasping, Leona grasps at her chest in mock offence, “I never believed you were that kind of boss! I was tricked—!” her mock ramblings were cut off with another nudge to her side that sent the both of you into a fit of giggles. 

“What should we do with all this?” you ask with a huff, staring in disappointment at all the leftovers in your display cases. Most would only end up in the trash and it broke your heart to see such goodies go to waste. 

“Why don’t you donate them at the local police station or fire department?” Leona suggests with a smile as she wipes down surfaces, “The fire department isn’t too far from here so you can go there first and do the police station on another day we have extra leftovers,”

Smiling brightly, you nod and get to work, “Brilliant idea Leona! How come I’ve never thought of that before?” 

“Maybe because you’re too busy all the time?” with a light-hearted pout, she faces you and presses on about how you need to consider yourself as a priority for once and actually go home on time. She had a point; the bakery was consuming your life. But you worked hard on the things that mattered to you and that was always a trait you were proud of. Every day you return home with pride and fulfilment in your heart; you loved that feeling despite the ache in your limb. Sighing, your enthusiasm slows considerably but you keep on packing up a random selection of baked goods, “Just think about it at least, boss,” Leona comes up behind you and gives you a quick but heartfelt hug, “we want you to be our boss forever so you have to stay healthy,” just like she always does, she brings a smile to your lips and slowly helps you with packing up the rest. 

With the bakery closed up, you head out with your packaged leftovers piled high in the passenger seat of your car and wave goodbye to Leona before pulling away. She was right in saying that the fire station wasn’t too far, it was a short five-minute drive from your bakery with parking close by too. 

It was a little unnerving. You had never done this before. And, even though you knew there was nothing wrong with doing this, your nerves still caused a stir in your chest and stomach at the thought of facing such brave and dedicated workers. However, it was that simple thought that pushed you forward. These men and women deserved free baked goodies and more for all of their hard work, there was no need to be shy about it. Balancing the stacked packages in your arms, you push the front door open with your back and carefully turn around as you step into the space. 

“Whoa, you need help with those?” someone calls from your left and you turn to see a handsome brunette, standing tall with an almost invisible dusting of freckles on his nose and a faint scar across his cheek and jaw. 

“Good afternoon!” you chirp happily and sheepishly accept his kind assistance, “I— umm, I wanted to give you guys some of the baked goods from my bakery. We made a little too much today,”

He grins widely as he appraises the tall stack of packages before turning to you with gratefulness in his eyes, “So that’s what smells so delicious,” the two of you share a laugh, “Thank you so much for this, it’s very kind of you,” a warm heat coats your cheeks as you shyly wave off his praise, which he shakes his head at discreetly but still maintains his happy grin, “come,” he tilts his head to one direction, “lets go feed everyone,” 

Remus introduces himself as he leads you down a hallway to the lounge room, where he suspected most of his colleagues congregated to. When you give your name in return, he tilts his head and mutters something unintelligible under his breath.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” 

“Oh nothing,” he chuckles softly, “I just thought it sounded familiar,” you had questions but shrugged and shrugged them off as unimportant when the two of you finally made it into the lounge area. Entering the space, you see the firemen scattered around the wide room, a group were playing cards around a table with several spectators, one or two were reading a book while another small group stood by a small kitchenette with steaming mugs, chatting between themselves. 

“Remus!” a dark haired man with a visible neck tattoo walks up from where he stood observing the card game, just so he could sling his arm over the brunette’s broad shoulders, “Who’s our cute guest?”

Remus introduces you and the purpose of your visit but his voice slowly fades into the background as soon as you meet eyes with a very familiar pair of hazel pools. 

“James?” blinking in surprise, you tilt your head and observe the man in his fireman uniform, minus the heavy jacket, leaving him in a black compression shirt to showcase his muscles. It made your cheeks heat up again but hotter. You had no idea how brawny he was with his soft charm and sweet face. But this was a very pleasant surprise. 

The man in question stands up, staring at you as if in a trance and makes his way over as Remus and his raven-haired friend step away with devious grins on their faces. They weren’t the only ones however, everybody else in the room looked on with a similar grin stretching across their lips, slightly leaning forward in their interest. 

“Wh-what are you doing here?” he sounds like he’s choking on air, breathless and in complete disbelief at the sight of you. 

“I uh– there were some leftover goodies at the bakery so I thought I could give them to you guys…as a thank you for all your good work,” you admit softly, staring up at him with timid eyes and watching with a gradually racing heart as a toothy grin takes over his features. His eyes sparkled with mirth under the fluorescent light and your heart skipped a beat in your chest. How does he do that? 

“You’re really too kind,” and so perfect James wanted to finish, ignorant to his friends’ snickering. Please be mine! It was a desperate wish and one that he had been making for a long time but he needed to keep his cool. He understands how overbearing and clingy he could be at times and didn’t want to frighten you.  

“You guys deserve it,” you return and silently hold up your packages with a smile. Happily, he takes the load and leads you to a table where he helps spread them out for his friends and colleagues to take as they please. Everyone around you gushes at the array and sings your praises in between their gratitude for the kind gesture. Amongst all the chatter, you also manage to hear soft whisperings that didn’t quite fit the rest of the words at the forefront of surrounding conversations. 

“That’s the cute baker Jamesie has been gushing about for months now, huh?”

“Seems so. Finally, we can put a name to the face,”

There was some laughter, “He looks like a love sick puppy,”

From the corner of your eye, you observe James and the goofy grin on his face, trapped in a daze as he stares down at you with adoring eyes and a soft blush on his cheeks. In your head, you make a mental note to visit the fire department more often. 

A/N : it just feels right that James is a firefighter, right? i'm not the only one who thinks this? nevertheless, i hopefully managed to convince you lovelies otherwise hehehe~

NAVI.

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @sageskisses444 @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @fortheeeefics @cassandra-nerezza-black @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt @notasadgirlipromise @ghostgardn @rosalyn-s @seungtelevision

[ladykailitha]

A Love Connection Part 1

In a very special engagement (as in a don't normally post 5 days a week), I introduce "A Love Connection"!

If the premise looks familiar the original idea is from here, where a couple of people in the notes or tags said they'd love to try it. And after a year, I figured I'd try my own hand at the idea.

This will update on Tuesdays at 10am and 10pm EST. With hopefully eight chapters.

Summary: Steve has tried everything under the sun to find someone to truly connect with, so he gives up after a particularly horrible date. Then Chrissy introduces him to her favorite game show "Love Connection". When Chrissy and Robin apply for him, they don't think they'll except him, but he does. His suitors are Billy Hargrove, Tommy Hagan, and Eddie Munson. Will Steve crash and burn again or will his connection be there waiting for him?

~

Look, to say Steve’s love life was a disaster would be unfair. That would be underselling it. It was a fucking catastrophe. He had gone to bars, joined hobby groups, used all the apps, even Grindr; though that was mostly for hookups, which sucked. But that was the nature of the beast if he was honest.

And the beast had completely devoured him. All his dates were either only interested the casual, cheated on him, or wanted one-night stands. Which Steve absolutely did not want. He wanted connection. Intimacy.

“I absolutely give up,” he whined to Robin, after the last date tried to slip out in the middle of the night, knocked over their lamp into their goldfish bowl, killing the goldfish, then he tried to hide the evidence by dumping it down the garbage disposal and turning it on! Lied about it, then stole their last beer as “compensation for his trauma’ and told Steve to never call him again.

“Look, Ryan wasn’t the best guy,” Robin replied with a grimace. “He liked Oasis and Tool unironically. Always a red flag.”

Steve snorted. Robin was a music snob most days, but she wasn’t wrong about that. Ryan and he had been dancing around and with each other for weeks before they finally got so hot and heavy that they went back to Steve’s for sex.

“It’s not fair,” he huffed. “You went to that bar and you a hottie girlfriend and I went to that bar and fucked a fish killer! I loved Garfield! He lived for five years before that bastard mercilessly murdered him. That’s long than my last ten relationships combined!”

Robin winced. “Ooh... I’m going to have to call Chrissy and let her know we can’t go back to that gay bar again.”

“Oh he’s so dead now!” Steve ranted. “Not only is he fish killer, he has driven us from our favorite bar!”

“Let me order us some take out,” Robin said standing up, “then I’ll call Chrissy over and we’ll all cry over Ciarán Hinds and Amanda Root falling in love.”

Steve sniffed away a couple of tears and nodded. “Then can we have a funeral for Garfield?”

Robin tilted her head and smiled sadly. “Of course we can. It’s a Sunday so none of us have work. We can watch as many weepy romance movies as you want, okay?”

“Okay,” Steve croaked. She gave him a big hug and kissed his cheek. He watched her wander into the kitchen to see what leftovers they had in the fridge so they could order from somewhere else. He loved her so much.

~

Sometime in the afternoon when they were more than a little tipsy, Chrissy commandeered the remote and turned on her favorite game show.

“Love Connection”

“Noooo...” Steve whined, burying his head into a throw pillow. It was Garfield shaped. It was what inspired the naming of the valiant fish. “This is the last thing I want to see. It’s so fake. No one gets together on these things. It’s so cheesy.”

“Exactly!” Chrissy crowed. “That’s why it’s perfect, we get to make fun of them!”

Steve thought that the only good part of the show was the second half. The first half was split into three different rounds. The first round was each suitor answer the one question, for a total of fifteen and then the catch would rank them, best got three points, second two, and third only one.

Then in the second round there were a set of rapid fire either or questions that the catch would yell out and the suitors would write down their answers. If their answer matched the catch’s they would get a tally. Whoever had the most tallies would win five points. Then three points to second place and one to the last place.

Then in the final round, each suitor would be asked separate questions and the catch would rate their answer one through three and that’s how many points they would get. Then at the end of the round all the points would be tallied up and the two highest would move on to the next round.

To the part that Steve actually liked. The first question always asked was “what would you do for a first date?” And the suitors got to take the catch out for the date and then afterward for drinks, the two dates would ask the catch some of the questions he asked them. Then the catch would pick the one they connected to the best.

It was all the stupid questions that bothered Steve. That was the fun part of dating, having these conversations and learning about them as you go. But then maybe that’s what Steve’s problem was, is that the people he dated didn’t care about these types of conversations.

“Why would you say you hate sports,” Steve huffed, waving his hand at the screen, “when the guy is a major soccer fan? Like did she think that she was going to put a stop to him enjoying it after starting dating?”

“Ooh yeah,” Chrissy agreed. “Just pick a different catch.”

Robin turned to her and tilted her head. “Do they get to chose their catch? I thought it was all random.”

Chrissy paused the show and pulled out her phone and the Wikipedia article. “Okay, it says here that people can apply to be suitors,” she waved at the row of women in the three booths. “Or catches.” She indicated the guy with her hand. “If they’re chosen to be a suitor then they are given a list of catches, headshot included. Then they rank vote them, so if four people pick Henry, then one will be on their second rank vote. And that part is randomized. According to them, anyway.”

Steve snorted. He highly doubted anything was randomized or voted on. They went for the biggest drama and everyone knew it.

“How long has this show been going on?” he huffed. “Like please tell it’s new and shiny and that’s why people like it.”

Robin snorted and shook her head. “Sorry, babe. But this is season twelve.”

“Oohh...” Chrissy said. “We need to show him the season six finale. That was hella juicy!”

So despite Steve’s protests, Chrissy pulled it up on her streaming services even though they hadn’t even finished the episode they were on.

When the credits rolled, Steve stared at the screen in utter shock. “What the honest fuck was that?”

Two of the three guys got into an all out brawl when the one guy had scored the lowest and felt that the second place suitor cheated. Not first place, second. Both guys were arrested and hauled off the set.

“It came out later Sven was right,” Robin said. “Elliot cheated. His cousin was an ex of the catch so he went in knowing a lot about Stella. The things he got wrong were things that had changed since she was dating his cousin.”

Chrissy nodded. “That’s why the have partitions up between the suitors now and why they have vigorous screening now. The show was almost canceled.”

“So why wasn’t it?” Steve asked honestly. “That was a shit show, if I was Stella I would have sued them into oblivion.”

Robin squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. “She did, but they settled out of court.”

“Basically,” Chrissy said, pouring them more wine and handing the first glass to Steve, “she wanted them to completely overhaul the system. She didn’t want it off the air, she wanted it safer for future participants.”

“The more the fool them,” Steve huffed. He took a long sip of his wine. “All right, fine. Let’s start at the beginning.”

Robin and Chrissy cheered and they all huddled up together on the sofa to watch this absolute train wreck of a show.

They were about half way through the third season and twice as drunk when Steve slurred, “Why are there no gay peemles in this? It’s a trav–trad–tramajesty.”

“Travesty!” Robin slurred back, her language skills always being the last to go when she’s three sheets to the wind. “And you are absolutely right! This is homophobic!”

Chrissy nodded solemnly and pulled out her phone. “I’mma show them...” she muttered with her tongue sticking out. “At loveconnectionUSA Need more gays, hashtag loveconnection hashtag need more gays.”

It wasn’t long after that that the three of them passed out on the sofa, empty bottles all around them and a message on the screen asking if they’re still watching.

~

There was a loud beeping noise and it absolutely was hurting his head. He reached over to where his phone was usually plugged in on his nightstand, but his hand went straight through it. He waved his arm all over the place but still his nightstand eluded him.

He peaked open one eye but his vision was obscured by a mass of blonde hair. He tried to push it out of the way but it kept falling back into his face. Finally he pushed Robin off him and onto the floor with a thud.

“Hey!” she yelped.

Steve peered over the edge of the sofa with a look of confusion. “Why are you on the floor?” he muttered over the still beeping of his alarm.

“Stop!” he mumbled and somehow, blissfully it did.

“I’m on the floor because you pushed me there,” Robin huffed, getting to her feet. She did a sniff test and grimaced when she completely failed. “God... how much did we drink yesterday?”

Chrissy struggled to sit up and blinked at her girlfriend groggily. “Not enough if I feel like this.”

Steve rolled over and looked at them both in confusion, then the events of Saturday and all day Sunday came flooding back in.

“Oh fuck...” he muttered, sitting up himself and rubbing his face. One eye was blurry from where his contact had shifted in the night. He wasn’t even sure why he had them on. Probably from sheer force of habit.

He got up and stumbled toward the bathroom where he emptied his stomach of all its boozy contents. He really didn’t remember them eating after breakfast, only a steady stream of harder and harder liquor.

While his was puking his guts out, Chrissy and Robin stole the shower. Thankfully only taking the time they needed to get the gross feeling of being hungover off their skin.

Then Steve closed his eyes as they exited the shower and snuck into Robin’s room to get ready for work. They all worked at Hawkins Middle School, where Steve was a history teacher who coached swimming and basketball. Chrissy was a health teacher and advisor for cheerleading. And Robin was the language teacher. The principal snatched her up because she could teach French, Spanish, and Italian, with her only needing to hire a German teacher.

Steve got his shower and then opted for glasses instead of his contacts, not trusting his shaky hands not poke out his eye or some shit.

They all were mostly human once they got coffee, painkillers, and cereal in them, the three of them, no doubt looking like escaped extras from a zombie flick. They moved as one, gathering up their stuff and shuffling out to Steve’s car. Chrissy sat in the back, Robin riding shotgun.

Chrissy opened her phone to check to see if she had any messages. “Holy shit!”

~

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Look I'd be sorry about the cliffhanger, but you're only waiting 12 hours for it, soooo...

Have fun!

Tag List: TEN SLOTS OPEN

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[sserpente]

The Devil's Prized Possession

Synopsis: You are Raphael's warlock and tasked with the most difficult mission: Retrieve the Crown of Karsus from the clutches of Enver Gortash. Remember, Raphael does not take kindly to failure. But do him proud and he will reward you for your troubles. As it turns out, he's been particularly eager to introduce you to a certain Incubus for a while now...

A/N: During my 5th run doing the House of Hope I had the most devilish and filthiest idea for a Raphael fic…so here we go! ;)

Words: 3637 Warnings: smut, smut, smut, blood, injuries, violence, voyeurism/exhibitionism, mentions of suicide and rape (past events), and um… incubus?

“My, my…look at how diligent my little warlock has become.”

You breathed out, the grip around your dagger loosening. You were covered in sweat, your damp training clothes sticking to you like a second skin. There was a mirror in the corner a few feet away from where you’d put the training dummy—a straw sack dressed in leather armour. Your cheeks were flushed, your hair greasy. In short, you were in no way presentable to receive your devilish patron.

You flipped around, facing Raphael with his hands clasped behind his back and a sly smile on his lips.

“Do you ever use doors? And knock? Like a normal person?”

“Oh but I am far from a normal person, am I not?”

You sighed. “I remember. That’s how I ended up in this situation in the first place. Why are you here?”

“Why am I here? Can a devil not check in on his little…protégée?”

You scoffed. “Come now, Raphael. I know you better than that. What do you want?”

“Very well. Let us cut to the chase. I have a mission for you.”

“A mission?” You frowned, removing the gloves you had been wearing to protect your knuckles. “For me? Does Korilla have annual leave?” you joked.

“I did not ask Korilla, I am asking you.”

You crossed your arms before your chest when he stalked closer, his eyes fixed on your form, observing every little movement you made. “Running errands for you was not part of our deal, Raphael.”

“Then perhaps you will be interested if I tell you what’s in it for you?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”

“Why, power, of course, my dear. What do you know of the crown of Karsus?”

Power? To hunt down the remaining thugs who’d stolen your life? “I’m listening.”

He followed you over to your small kitchen area. You kept some good wine hidden away in a cupboard for the sole purpose of his visits. Your life in Baldur’s Gate wasn’t exactly a luxurious one. When Raphael stepped into your life and you became a Warlock to take revenge on your family’s murderers and your rapist, he’d saved you from a dark pit you feared you’d never be able to get out of. You’d been close to suicide when he found you and offered you a way out. You didn’t regret it, didn’t regret the power his devilish abilities trickled into your very blood to give you abilities beyond your comprehension. Raphael was the reason you were still alive. All he had asked for in return was your soul—forever a guest in his House of Hope.

Raphael sat down at your mangled table. If he was disgusted by the leftovers of your breakfast and the dirty dishes, he hid it well.

You poured him a glass and set it before him on the wooden surface before sitting down opposite him.

“I assume you know the story of Karsus?”

You nodded. “Who doesn’t?”

“Then you’ll know what a powerful artefact the crown is. And I want it.”

“Well, where is it right now?” you asked, seemingly unaffected by his words. You knew better than to question him. You didn’t give a shit about this world anymore. If he decided to take over, at least you knew he’d make the sinners suffer, simply by seducing them into agreeing to a deal with him that they could not refuse.

“It was stolen, my dear. Stolen by someone you know all too well. It was our self-proclaimed saviour of Baldur’s Gate, Lord Enver Gortash. I hear he is up for archduke now.”

You frowned. “Why would Gortash steal the crown of Karsus?”

“Why would anyone? The crown in the hands of this Banite tyrant will bring ruin to the city, to the whole of Faerûn. I intend to save it. I want the crown,” he repeated.

“Wait. Did you say Banite? Enver Gortash is a Banite? Really?”

“The crown, dear. We were talking about the crown.”

“Alright, alright. So what do you want me to do?”

“Oh, it’s quite simple, actually.” He leaned back and smirked. “I want you to retrieve it for me.”

“And steal from the future archduke?”

“You are skilled in stealth. You will find a way.”

“Why me? Why not Korilla?”

“Korilla has been tasked with…some other business of mine.”

You blinked, considering his offer. “I still fail to see what’s in it for me.”

“The crown of Karsus will allow me to become the archdevil supreme. The most powerful devil in existence. Legions will bow to me and follow my command and the hells…will be mine. And you shall become the most powerful warlock any devil has ever taken under their wing.”

“Those were a lot of ‘most powerfuls’ in one sentence. But fine. I bite.”

“Excellent.” He waved his hand and out of a mist of smoke and sparks, a roll of parchment appeared. “Here is all you need to know to infiltrate Wyrm’s Rock. I expect results within a fortnight. Do not disappoint me, little mouse.”

He was gone before you could respond, his glass of wine left untouched.

Stupid, handsome devil. Stupid, stupid Banites! You should never have agreed to this. How could you have known that they would start a bloody cult directly at Wyrm’s Rock? Who could have known that they would, instead of questioning you, send you to the prisons to have you executed the next day? Raphael. Raphael could have known. You scoffed. That damn devil. He’d never elaborated on the consequences if you failed but knowing him, it couldn’t be good.

But then again…you’d already promised him your soul in return for your powers, so what else could he possibly take from you now? You were of little use as a lemur, after all.

If you ever made it out of here, at least you wouldn’t return completely empty-handed, you thought, as you played with the loose straws of hey on the dirty ground. You’d found out a great deal about Gortash’s plans. And he wasn’t operating alone, either. He had both the Chosen of Bhaal and the Chosen of Myrkul by his side.

You’d always known Gortash to be a bit shady but this form of evil was on another level entirely, even for him. An Elder Brain? Frozen ceromorphosis? An Illithid empire with him on top? You shook your head.

It was just then that sparks of hellfire danced through the cell. Smoke erupted in the corner, the smell of sulphur filling the stale air; and yet, despite the discomfort this very circumstance should have brought you, you felt relief flooding your body.

“My, my, what a predicament you have gotten yourself into here.”

“Raphael! Thank the gods… get me out of here, please!”

He truly was a sight to behold—hope, ironically, given your current predicament.

“Come. We have much to discuss.”

You stood, patting the dirt and the dust from your clothes. A sliver of hesitation wrapped its icy claw around your heart as you took the hand he offered and teleported you to safety. But wherever he took you…it was not your home.

“Where are we?” You peeked around, taking in your lavish surroundings. Imposing statues of devils—of Raphael himself—towered up into the air, marble pillars holding a high ceiling. Everything in here had been placed in the right spot with the utmost care, carefully chosen by Raphael himself, even the bottle of finely aged wine and the silver chalice next to it on the small table in front of a luxurious armchair by the fireplace.

The chimney was lit and spreading warmth. This…this was…

“The House of Hope,” Raphael finished your thought.

“I’m in the hells?”

“Indeed you are, my dear. Now. Have a seat. And tell me what happened.”

You did as you were told—there was little to no reason for you to resist or fall to your knees to beg him for his forgiveness. Not yet, anyway.

Raphael sat down in the armchair opposite you.

“You are…surprisingly calm,” you said.

“Should I not be?”

“Well…I failed you. Your mission. Aren’t you going to roast me over eternal hellfire?”

“You did fail. Except you did not.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”

“I knew that retrieving that crown was going to be no easy feat. I knew Gortash was a force not to be underestimated. You merely needed the motivation to try. So tell me. What were you able to find out?”

You blinked. You were…forgiven? By Raphael himself? Confused and still a little hesitant, you told him everything you had learned—including where his precious Crown of Karsus was right now.

“Hmm…hmm…”

He looked away and said nothing else for a while but who were you to interrupt his devilish thoughts?

“That indeed changes the game…I will need time to accommodate to these…circumstances, shall we say.”

“So…am I dismissed?”

Finally, Raphael’s gaze found yours again. His smirk burned hot in your veins, setting the power he fed you with ablaze. Damn that warlock connection.

“You are. You provided me with everything I needed to know about the crown’s whereabouts. About Gortash’s plan, the dead three, and the Elder Brain. You did well.”

You tilted your head. “No punishment? No ‘your soul will burn in eternal hellfire for failing me’?”

A pause. And then, his smirk grew even wider. “No.”

“Okay…um…thank you. So…how do I get back home?”

“You don’t.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“As of right now, you are a wanted criminal and a traitor to Baldur’s Gate. The Banites will long have infiltrated your home. It would be suicide to return just yet.”

Shit. He had a point. “But…where am I supposed to go then?”

“Why, you will stay here, of course, in my House of Hope.”

“You…you want me to stay here…in the hells…with you?”

“Now, now, I will be very busy. Do not expect me to entertain you, little mouse.”

You bit your lower lip. You despised his nickname for you…except you didn’t—and neither did, apparently, your nether regions.

“But for now…” he continued, looking you up and down as if deep in thought all of a sudden. “Let me show you around. I believe you deserve a reward for all your hard work. You can freshen up in my boudoir, wash the dirt from your skin. You will most certainly enjoy what awaits you there.”

You didn’t like his tone when he said that. Not at all. Expect you loved it. There was something sensual about Raphael’s voice—the devil loved to listen to himself talk but of course, that was nothing new. You’d grown to like his ways, his attitude, even his arrogance. After all, he was the very reason for your powers.

Raphael led you through a long and empty corridor, safe for the souls who had been unfortunate enough to strike a deal with him. If this was his way of showing you what awaited you once you perished…you swallowed thickly, your stomach churning.

“Oh…oh…oh…you will be so much fun to watch!” The soul who spoke to you had wide eyes and she was visibly…aroused. Perhaps at this point, your alarm bells should have been ringing. Whatever Raphael’s plans were…whatever awaited you in the boudoir…

“I gave them exactly what they asked for, little mouse,” Raphael said, his hand finding the small of your back. “Don’t worry. The fate you promised me will be much less hopeless and sufferable.”

You stepped through what resembled a portal—an arcane lock, you realised—keeping unwanted visitors out. Cool magic grazed your skin, and then you faced a vast pool with two running faucets on either end. Cushions, wine, delicacies, and even books formed a wreath around the pool, along the wall there were several wardrobes you assumed contained fresh clothes and towels. There was another area behind the pool, one that was barely visible from where you were standing. Still, you could make out the wooden posts and the luxurious fabric of a king-size bed.

“Please… step inside. Help yourself to some fruit and some wine.”

You hesitated—again. But this time it was because of a strange stab of excitement in your stomach.

Eventually, you stepped forward and took off your boots. Raphael, however, made no move to leave. Instead, he stalked over to a lush sofa in front of a high window and sat down with his legs spread wide as if he owned the place. Well. He did.

What was his plan? Was he going to watch you? You knew better than to object. You had no problem with nudity, although it was a little strange Raphael would want to watch you bathe.

With a sigh—if anything to shake off the nervousness eating away at your insides—you began to undress until not a single layer of fabric remained.

Your patron’s eyes followed your every move as you stepped into the pool, taking in every single inch of your exposed skin. It was…pleasant. The water was just right and as it wrapped around your limbs to clean it, it felt…soft.

You moved to the middle of the pool, submerging yourself until the water reached your collarbones. The bruises and cuts you had taken with you from this mission all but shrunk and disappeared, leaving behind healthy and unmarred skin. Restoration faucets…no wonder Raphael always looked so impeccable and untouched.

The relief was like a balm for your body. Your aches disappeared, the exhaustion draining from your core. You were about to close your eyes when all of a sudden, a tall figure appeared above you. A gust of wind tore through your hair. You looked up, discovering bat-like wings keeping a red-skinned figure in the air with its arms crossed, a sly smirk on its—his lips.

The demon, an Incubus, you recognised quickly, was the spitting image of Raphael.

“Hello, little mouse.” Fuck. He sounded like him too. “Is that your little warlock?” he asked. You were very well aware he wasn’t talking to you, yet all you could do was stare at him with wide eyes and your jaw dropped.

“Isn’t she a fine specimen?” Raphael bragged.

“She is indeed.” The incubus lowered himself down until his bare feet touched the carpeted floor, his eyes, identical to Raphael’s, never leaving your form. You were frozen in place. Meeting an incubus in the flesh was quite a remarkable experience—but also potentially dangerous. What did your patron have in mind? To show you off? You gasped for air. He’d promised you a ‘reward’. He couldn’t have been referring to…

“My name is Harleep,” the incubus purred as he flew closer. The faint smell of sulphur hit your nostrils. Every instinct inside of you screamed for you to get out, to save yourself…yet a very depraved and filthy part of you was begging you to stay to see what would happen. What could happen.

You told him your own name and he gave a toothless grin. “Such a pretty little mouse…what do you say? Should we make you feel good? I take it Raphael has brought you here because you’ve been a very, very good girl.”

You lower regions clenched. Fuck. Why did this excite you so much? It shouldn’t. And yet, you found yourself nodding. “I…I think so?”

Raphael chuckled. “I was hoping you’d say yes. Harleep is a very…thorough lover. And I do admit, after all of our time spent together, I am rather curious as to what it would be like to claim you.”

Oh. Oh. He…oh gods. If there was one thing you knew about Raphael it was that he was quite possibly the most narcissistic and self-absorbed devil in the nine hells. It was beneath him to mingle with anyone who didn’t live up to his standards—and the only one who did, apparently, was himself.

You actually had to bite back a laugh when you realised. Raphael had made Harleep take his form because he wouldn’t fuck anyone but himself. And now…he wanted to watch Harleep fuck you. You would be lying if you said you didn’t find the thought intriguing. It had been ages since you’d last had sex, besides, receiving pleasure from an incubus? There was nothing else like it. Should you give in?

“My…such a shy little mouse…” Harleep’s hand came up to stroke your cheek as you stood there in the water, naked and dumbfounded. It slid down the side of your face, over your neck, your shoulders, and your arm until he was able to intertwine his fingers with yours and gently pull you with him.

And just like that…all of your remaining resistance, any doubts and fears…faded away. Harleep snapped his fingers to dry your skin and had you sprawl out on the huge king-size bed. The bed sheets were soft, silk, or satin as you sank into the mattress and rested your head on the pillow. The Incubus crawled over you in an almost predatory manner, Raphael following suit behind him. He pulled up a chair and poured himself a glass of wine, his mischievous eyes glistening with curiosity and desire.

Oh gods…he really was going to do this, wasn’t he? This was going to happen. He was going to watch Harleep fuck you right before his eyes.

You breathed out when Harleep grabbed your knees and spread your legs for him to position himself between them. You glanced down, eyes widening a little at his size. He was as hard as a rock, his red skin almost glowing in the orange light of the hells. Feeling him inside you…all of a sudden, there was nothing else you wanted in this world any more than this, any more than him.

He already was fucking with your mind then…Incubi had an uncanny ability to charm their victims before they devoured them entirely. But surely, Raphael wouldn’t let him go this far…would he?

Harleep’s tip pressed against your entrance and you realised in shock that you were dripping wet. Your pussy was throbbing, eager to take a cock and ease the growing arousal he was making you feel.

“Now…let us see how you taste, little mouse.” Harleep buried himself inside you to the hilt without any forewarning, meeting no resistance from your wanton body. A gasp escaped your lips as he claimed you, causing Raphael to chuckle as he twirled the red wine in his chalice before taking a sip.

“Hmm…like a lush and ripe fruit, juicy and ready to be plucked…” the incubus raved.

Was that really how you tasted to a sex demon? You couldn’t talk, couldn’t think… You bit your lower lip, digging your nails into the sheets as Harleep began to move inside you, withdrawing almost entirely only to plunge himself back in and fuck you slowly and intimately as if to savour your body.

Your breathing grew heavier, your arousal climbing even higher. Every single thrust was an ode to an impending orgasm. It was pleasure like you had never experienced it before. Nothing else mattered anymore. Whatever Harleep was doing, whatever his superpower was…it was working. Penetrative sex alone never did the trick for you—but with him, you’d been on the brink of climax from the very moment he’d sheathed himself inside of you.

Raphael chuckled and your head fell to the side. His gaze lingered on your joined bodies, taking in your bouncing breasts and Harleep’s powerful strokes, his cock disappearing into your wet warmth over and over again. He looked…fascinated—and you couldn’t help but let it fuel your carnal desire to drown in a whirlwind of lust.

Harleep joined in on the devil’s chuckle. “Keep going, little mouse. I can feel you tightening around me. You want to come so badly, don’t you?”

You bit your lower lip harder, almost drawing blood. Forcing your eyes back on Harleep, you nodded eagerly.

“Then come, little mouse. Show us how much you are enjoying this.”

It was all you wanted to hear, all you needed to hear. You fell apart beneath him on the bed, the delicious knot in your stomach unbound. Your walls contracted around Harleep’s cock who did not relent, fucking you through your orgasm until you turned into a whimpering mess.

The pleasure cursed through you like pure electricity, your mind shutting off. You were his…his for the taking, his to feed on, his to do with you as he pleased, forever…

“Now, now, Harleep. Don’t forget your manners.”

The incubus chuckled and with a start, as the last remaining weaves of bliss ebbed away, you woke up. Harleep dug his nails into your hips, lifting them off the bed to bury himself even deeper. He fucked you hard and fast now, ready to take his own relief.

“Do not come inside of her,” you heard Raphael say. His tone allowed no contraction.

You threw your head back, enjoying every single luscious thrust until Harleep stilled and pulled out, one of his hands wrapping around his length to finish himself off.

Ropes of his seed landed on the clean bed sheets between your legs, staining the pretty fabric. You were panting, fighting for your sanity when part of you didn’t even want it back.

“My, my…what a show.”

You half-expected Raphael to clap. Instead, he only chuckled again and got up from his seat. You couldn’t help it—you glanced down, noticing the considerable bulge in his trousers.

“Join me for dinner once you’ve recovered. You must be famished, my dear.”

With that, he left, leaving you behind with a seemingly out-of-breath Incubus who was still drinking in your essence, your arousal. He seemed…satiated. Amused, even.

Fuck. You’d need that restoration faucet again before you could even consider having supper with the very devil you had promised your soul to.

[cameronspecial]

Let Me Pamper Us, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Summary: After a day apart, Y/N just wants to spend an evening with her boyfriend.

A/N: This video was used as inspiration.

Masterlist

While away for Spring Break, Kelce and Topper miss their best friend. Rafe would never admit to missing anyone except his angel, yet he still agrees to go on Discord with them and play some Call of Duty. Y/N is okay with exploring Sicily by herself for the day. She returns to the yacht to find Rafe still on call with the boys. She pouts a little. Being by herself for the day is not a problem, but she wants to spend the evening with her boyfriend. Instead of asking him to hang out with her like a normal person, she takes out one of the mud masks he bought her. She ducks between his arms and uses the plastic brush to paint the mud on his face. At the cool feel of the mask, he jerks away. “What is that, Angel?” he questions, going to touch his face. She grabs his wrist, “Don’t, it’s a mud mask. I think a spa night would be fun.” He hmms at her words, informing his friends that he has to go. He exits the game and wraps his arms around her waist. “If you wanted a spa night, then you should’ve just told me. Let me pamper us, Angel.”

His headphones are thrown onto the desk and he takes her hand into his. He leads her to the living room’s couch, turning on the TV for her. He puts on Bones for her before heading to the master bedroom’s bathroom. Curiosity fills her and she just wants to see what he is doing. Half an hour later, he comes back into the room with a robe on and one for her in his hand. He asks her to strip, helping her put the fluffy coat on. 

Their feet pad against the tiled floor and she finds the bathroom lit by candles. He tells her to wash her face in the sink and then places her on the counter. His hand rips open the face mask sheet. He sticks his tongue out as he smooths the cool sheet against her skin. “There. All done,” he whispers, kissing her neck. She smiles, “Thank you, Rafe.” He squeezes her hand and keeps holding it while he finishes putting on his mud mask. His eyes spot the towel headband he bought for this spa night. “Oops, I forgot to put this on,” he apologizes and slides it on her head. She giggles at the fact that he knows so much about her spa day routine, “It’s okay. You are doing amazing.” He grins at her reassurance and leads her to the tub. He shrugs off his robe, helping her do the same. As he gets into the tub, the water splashes a little over the edge of the ceramic. He holds his hand up to help her get in and she slots herself between his legs. Her back rests against his chest. He drapes his arms over her shoulder, giving her a kiss on the cheek. They soak in the water and each other’s company for a few minutes. Eventually, his fingers weave through her hair. The pads of his fingers dig into her scalp, eliciting a moan out of her. 

She snuggles back against his hold and kisses the inside of his wrist when he goes to massage the front of her skull. “I’m sorry I stopped you from playing your game with the boys,” she worries out loud, the guilt is getting to her. He lets out a soft chuckle, “It’s okay, Angel. My eyes were getting a little tired anyway. I played the whole time you were gone.” She gives a small nod. “Did you at least eat lunch?” she worries. 

“Yeah, I eat the leftovers from last night. I missed you though. Do you know what you want to eat for dinner?”

“Yeah! I found this great little place. It looks so intimate and the food smelt delicious. We can go after our spa night.”

“Sounds great, Angel.” 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @queen-shadow22 @victory-in-the-llama @starkowswife @drewsmusee

[nathaslosthershit]

A Big Decision (Teen Dad!Oscar AU)

(Part 8 of Teen Dad!OP au [Can be read on its own])

Summary: It is time to pop the big question

The twins had finally gone down for a nap after spending so long fighting it. The kids, at age three, have started to fight them more and more, leading their parents to start discussing if it's time for naps to stop. Honey, being a stay at home mom, had needed the nap time as much as her kids had in the past, giving her time to catch up on chores or just rest for a little, so she was really trying to get as much time as she could with it. But maybe it truly was over.

She was surprised to see Oscar pacing in their living room once she went back downstairs.

“Well, aren't you home early?” She says as Oscar immediately wraps his arms around her, burying his head in her neck and kissing it.

“Missed you all, did what they needed from me extra fast so I could get home earlier. Thought we could maybe go out tonight?”

“Oscar, it's a friday night. Do you know how impossible getting a babysitter would be? The kids also take a while to warm up to babysitters, I don’t think it's a good idea.”

“Good thing I thought ahead then. Lando had a free night and has been begging to see them after the last ‘betrayal’ when they wore Sargeant hats. Even better, he said he would do it for free if it meant working towards being the favorite.”

“Oscar, you can’t get your coworkers to babysit your twin toddlers for free by dangling favoritism in their faces.”

“It was his idea! I am just capitalizing off of it. I got us a nice reservation too, we just need to let him now in the next…” Oscar checks his wrist where his watch usually rests but finds it missing, “uh now. So I need an answer quickly, are we going to stay home and eat the same leftovers we have had for the past two days, or are we going to make Lando Norris the happiest man alive by letting him watch our kids for free while we have an amazingly romantic dinner?” Oscar quickly asks as he takes his ex-fiancee, now girlfriend, in his arms.

“Fine, let's go out, we could use the night off. Let Lando know I appreciate him watching them for us.”

“Perfect, why don’t you go out, do something nice for yourself, I'll take over with the kids. We still have time before dinner tonight.” Oscar suggested in a strange tone as he kissed all surface area of her face.

“What is up with you today? I don’t mind it but you are so much more touchy.” She laughed.

“Don’t worry bout a thing.” Was all he replied as he walked away. “Tonight will be the best yet, I promise.”

That’s when it struck her, why he was being so weird. Surely, he was going to propose.

After the huge fight in Suzuka, she had called the engagement off, causing them to ignore each other’s existence unless it came to the kids, for seven weeks. Since they had gotten back together, life had been blissful. Sure, it was most likely the ‘honeymoon’ phase of their relationship, but even so, they had been so ready to marry each other before things started going downhill. Maybe days after they got back together isn’t the right time to get engaged, but they had been to hell and back together since they got pregnant at 18 years old, they were it for each other, always would be. 

Oscar taking off of racing had also been a blessing. It had been hard for him, certainly. But he had needed to learn how to put his family first again, a priority that got harder to keep up with since joining Formula 1. 

As she sat in the nail salon chair, getting what were hopefully her engagement nails done, she thought back to how far they’d come. 

Arriving home with her nails done, and after getting the most amazing massage, Honey was giddy as she greeted her, hopefully, soon to be fiancé. After an hour and a half of filling her head with wedding plans and thinking about their future when she would finally get to be Mrs. Piastri after 7 years, she was more excited then she was the first time he proposed. 

This excitement continued from the moment she stepped into the shower, till the moment she sat in her seat at the restaurant. Oscar had hired a driver for the night, saying it was a night all for them, no need to be careful of how many drinks they were going to have, he had also told her he had plans to take them to the beach after where they could finish the night with a picnic by the water and stay as late as they liked. 

There was one thing that was off about him though, while she had expected nerves, she had also expected excitement from him and soon noticed the more giggly she was, the more upset he seemed to be. Maybe he realized she had caught on?

She finally asked what was up after he spilt his drink.

“Seriously Osc, what is wrong with you? You claim this is such a nice night for just the two of us but you are a mess right now!”

“It’s nothing, I’m sorry I don’t know why I’m like th-”

“Bullshit. I thought I made it clear how awful of a liar you are Oscar Jack Piastri, just tell me. Please?”

Silence filled the air as he stared at her, words failing.

“I will get up if you don’t-”

“I had a meeting with higher ups at McLaren earlier today and was told if I don’t come back then I am out of the contract and I agreed to come back for the Spanish Grand Prix!” Oscar blurted out.

Again, a heavy silence landed on the couple, both of them daring the other one to speak first.

Then, without a single word, Honey got up from the table and walked to the car leaving Oscar at the table, tears starting to fall.

Part 2 out now!

[psychickiss]

crepe with extra feelings

— saiki kusuo x reader (no 3rd person pronouns, 2nd pov)

— summary: After a disastrous Home Economics class, Saiki receives a sweet treat from you.

— notes: i feel like i have to say everytime that my fics arent beta read. i kind of just trust my gut on this (not this time though) also this is in season 1 episode 20 (chapter 98)

— things: i made the reader pretty casual with their feelings for saiki soo you could take this as romantic or platonic

— masterlist | request form | retrospring

“Psst. Saiki. Don’t go yet.”

Saiki anticipated your calling out to him. He had heard your thoughts as the both of you watched your other classmates exit the room. Normally, he would’ve been one of the first to go, but he felt compelled to stay and hear out whatever it is you had to say.

Now, Saiki turns to you, eyebrow raised. He knows you made him an extra crepe. However, he’s seen the ones Nendou made, if you give him savory crepes too–

You hold out the crepe to him without a word. Whipped cream, banana slices, and chocolate syrup (both white and milk chocolate).

“My group and I didn’t have much, err, ingredients to work with for the filling. Plus, we had leftover batter. It does taste good though, if I must say.”

You glance to the side for a second and think, I’d eat the leftover batter but that just sounds like a thing one can only do at home. Also, you seem disappointed that the ones Nendou made had tuna in it. You quickly look back at him with a small smile.

Saiki’s eyes light up as he takes the crepe.

You remove your apron. “I’m not a good cook, or baker,” you declare. “But I do enjoy following recipes. I hope you like the crepe.”

Saiki takes a bite of the crepe and smiles. It’s decided. You’re no longer a nuisance. It’s not like you were much of a nuisance from the start, anyway. He says to you, “Thanks for the crepe.”, although his words were a bit muffled. You figure it was the crepe’s interference.

You reply happily as well, “You’re welcome. You could eat that on the way back to class, y’know?”

Saiki nods, and the two of you walk out of the room together.

“You aren’t going to take off your apron?”

“I’ll do it affer I finish the crepe. It’s good, by the way. Just the right amount of sweetness.”

You sigh in relief. “I’m so glad you like it! I made it myself, actually! I’m so relieved to hear you like it, really.”

Saiki nods at you, too busy eating to verbally respond.

You two enter the classroom, and are quickly approached by Nendou, Kaidou, and Aren. You don’t notice the way Saiki stops eating the crepe to grimace at his friends.

“Saiki! Where’d you get that crepe from?”

Saiki points to you as the source and you awkwardly smile at the guys. “Yep... My group had extra batter.”

“Why not make one for yourself?” Asks Aren. Saiki looks at you, he’s hoping your response wouldn’t be something that affirms whatever romance-related thought Aren is thinking.

“Eh... I don’t really like crepes... I don’t know if any of you liked crepes, too...”

Saiki hears Aren’s thoughts, as well as Kaidou’s thoughts. Good grief. Kaidou hasn’t picked up on what Kuboyasu’s thinking but those two gossip a lot... I need to stop this.

Kaidou purses his lips, the same romance-related thoughts brewing in his head. “How are you sure Saiki would want one?”

“He was dressed immediately when he heard we’d be making crepes. Plus, we’re friends.” You cross your arms. “There’s nothing wrong with that, right?”

Saiki subtly smiles. Nice one.

“Even if it wasn’t a platonic crepe,” Nendou grins, “you and my pal would make a nice couple!”

You laugh and roll your eyes. “Okay. Excuse us, now. We’d like to return to our seats.” You quietly think to yourself, I wouldn’t mind that, though.

Saiki silently finishes the crepe and throws the wrapper away in a nearby trash can before removing his apron. He walks toward his seat and watches as you go tuck your apron away.

You catch Saiki looking at you and smile. “So? How was the crepe?” You ask before sitting down.

“It was nice. Thank you, again.”

“You’re welcome. I’d be willing to make you a crepe again sometime, just say the word. Or...” You drag on that last word, and Saiki pretends he doesn’t hear the slight panic in your inner voice.

Do I go for it? Am I asking Saiki to go out? I don’t even like him like that! We’re not even that close to the point we can hang out one-on-one. Ugh, he’s waiting for me to finish my sentence. Just say it!

“Or... I could just take you out to some place that sells crepes? They’d probably make it far better than I do.”

Saiki hums. “I wouldn’t mind doing that with you. While it’s possible that crepes done by professionals would be better than by students like us, I’d appreciate it more if you were the one to prepare the crepe.”

Saiki’s words catch you off-guard for a second. “Oh–! Does... Does that mean you’ll go with me, though? A friend of mine showed me a place with all kinds of sweets, like crepes and coffee jelly–”

“I’m free today. We can go after school.”

“Oh? That’s great!”

[seeingivy]

family rules (alternate version)

satoru gojo x f!reader 

in which you’re the one who gets in the accident this time, not satoru and megumi 

**read the other ones here 

content warning: car accident, mentions of glass and blood, reader in pain satoru says daddy, megumi wants you to break satoru’s neck

an: for all my very lovely family rules fans, this is the part for the request I received here. I hope you all enjoy :D 

-

Satoru pushes his key into the door, swinging the door open as he calls out to the three of you. He’s balancing the pink box in his hands, very excited to see your very irritated face when you open it. 

He stops for a second, eyeing the light purple around Megumi’s eye as you push green peas into his face, before turning to the fridge to steal your leftovers from last night. 

He can feel you opening the box out of his peripheral vision, preparing his silly little consolation piece to calm you down. He knows you’ll be irritated, obviously, but he’s always sweet talked his way out of situations, especially with you. He just wanted to ease the air after the lecture you were probably going to give Megumi, settle everyone down. 

“Megs, do you mind joining Miki upstairs? I need to talk to Gojo over here.” you say, watching you press a very strained smile to your face. 

Maybe the cake was too far. He should have settled for balloons instead. 

“You have got to be kidding me, Satoru. You bought him a cake for punching another kid in the face?” 

“It’s just a joke, my love. No harm done. I’ll talk to him about it later. You know, all that cheesy stuff you say - words before violence, be the bigger man by walking away.” he leans over, pressing a kiss to your cheek, before he sets out to set the plates for dinner. 

“Satoru. Be serious for one minute. Megumi is our responsibility. You’re doing him a disservice if we keep letting him process his anger this way. Don’t lead him down the wrong path.” 

He can feel the stinging in his chest, the anger developing in his chest. He would be lying by saying things were perfect between the two of you, as of late. The two of you were polar opposites, something he always considered as a strength to your relationship. When he was drifting away too far, you grounded him in reality. When you were too stuck in the little things, he always reminded you of the big picture. You worked - moon and sun, salt and pepper, black and white. However, the two of you had been finding it harder to find compromises lately, arguing more lately, especially when it came to Megumi. 

It’s a few fights, not mass murdering people. If anything, Megumi’s doing very well, considering who his father is and what happened. He’s doing very well, considering the fact that he’s being raised by two twenty year olds. Satoru’s doing very well, considering the fact that he’s trying his best to be there for him. 

“I’m not leading him anywhere wrong. You’re setting him up for failure if you keep letting kids push him around like that. You’re the one leading him down the wrong path.” 

“Solving your problems with fists isn’t always the right answer, Satoru. This is why he doesn’t talk to us when we ask him what’s wrong. We just have to wait for him to explode, just to find out he was suffering the entire time.” 

He feels your words sink into his chest, burning him in a place he hadn’t been before. No. Surely you couldn’t be insinuating what he thought you were. You wouldn’t. 

He thinks back to the third grade, his parents' faces engraved in his mind. He learned all too quickly that punching another kid in the face, pulling a girl's pigtails, running out of class would get their attention - faster than asking them to tuck him into bed, eat breakfast with him, or come to a school play. They would drop everything, run to his side to see him at the first sign of trouble. There’s no way you’re insinuating Megumi is doing the same. 

It kills him. Even the thought of it being right. Megumi’s mimicking him, when he was younger, acting out to get someone to look at him. The two of you tried your best with him, he was always a little more closed off, but you were doing everything you could. 

No. No. Satoru Gojo was not his father. You had to be wrong. You had to be wrong because if you were right, he was no better than his father. 

“Whatever problem he has, I’ll deal with it. Remember, he’s my kid, not yours. My responsibility. So I’ll figure out what’s best for him moving forward.” 

He comes to realize that this was his first mistake, one he’ll come to regret in a few hours. 

He can feel the words hanging in the air, waiting for your anger filled response. But it doesn’t come. You compare him to his father and then have nothing to say?

“All quiet now, Y/N? Have nothing to say to me?” 

“No, I don’t.” 

“And why’s that? You sure had a lot to say a few minutes ago.” 

“Because. He’s your kid. Not mine. It’s not really my business what he does, is it?” 

He feels his heart sink in his chest, his cheeks burning with regret already. Why did he say that? You didn’t mean it like that. There’s no way you would ever compare him to his dad, in earnest. He curls his fingers around your wrist, pulling you closer to him. Kiss it better, Satoru.

“Hey, hey. Wait a minute.” 

You shrug him off, swiping the keys off the counter and running out the door. This is his second mistake - letting you run out that door - and surely the one he’ll regret even more. 

He stands there in shock, your absence chilling him. What the hell is he doing? The table is half set, your sweet strawberry smell absent, your glimmering smile gone from the kitchen. 

You left. You actually got up and left. It’s his fault. He hit it where he knew where it hurt. He can feel his heart sinking in his chest, the stinging vertebrates through his bones. Why did he say that to you? He loves you. He reaches around for his phone after a few seconds, his fingers shaking as he texts you. 

i’m sorry love

you know i didn’t mean it

just come back. you know he’s our kid. 

i know you’re right. he shouldn’t be punching people every time he disagrees with them. i just have trouble being too hard on him, i don’t want to be like my parents

not an excuse. i know i’m in the wrong. we can have the talk with him, just like you wanted. just come back y/n. 

Satoru nearly drops his phone into the sink, at the sight of Megumi pushing into his legs. He presses his arms around Satoru’s legs, hiding his face against in the fabric. 

“Hey Megs. You okay?” 

“Did Y/N leave?” 

He leans down, intending to talk Megumi down. You were always better at it, but there’s no harm in trying. 

He looks over, really observing the bruise on Megumi’s eye for the first time. His eye is swollen, coloring into a dark purple. There’s a tiny bit of pink in the whites of his eyes and he doesn’t miss Megumi keeping his eyes closed, squinting whenever he makes contact with the light. 

He reaches down, pressing the green peas you were pushing into Megumi’s face, back to the spot. He didn’t realize Megumi was hurt this bad. 

“Yeah. We just had a little argument. She’ll come back.” 

He feels Megumi clench his fist, his hand crumpling the fabric of his slacks. 

“Do you think she hates me?” 

“Megumi. Y/N loves you. She’s mad at me for being stupid, not at you for fighting.” 

He feels another set of tiny hands, this time resting on his arms. Tsumiki’s tear filled face is at his side. He’s messed up. 

It’s in this moment, Megumi’s stressed out expression and Tsumiki’s tear stained face, that he realizes how small they really are. He’d been teaching Megumi how to master his cursed technique and he was always impressed with how self-sufficient Tsumiki was, but he never realized how wrong it was until now. 

They were kids. They’re small, tiny little kids acting like adults. He leans down, pressing the two of them against his chest. He won’t let them burden it - that’s what you and him were for. You, when you were still here anyways. 

He reaches for his phone again, shooting you another text. 

kids are getting real upset with you gone, they miss you already 

“Satoru.” 

“Yes, Miss Miki?” 

“Why did she leave?” 

He sighs. Because he’s an idiot. Because he can’t control his tongue, because he can’t accept his faults, because he’s in over his head. 

“We had an argument. I got upset with her and said something that wasn’t very nice to her.” 

“Does she still love us?” 

“You’re her entire world. She loves you both, so much. That’s partially why she’s so mad at you Megumi. She doesn’t like to see you hurt and gets upset when you willingly put yourself in situations like this.”

He feels his phone buzzing on the floor, basically collapsing trying to pick it up fast enough. He presses the phone to his ear, without even checking the caller ID. 

“Y/N?” 

“Am I speaking with Mister Satoru Gojo?” 

“Yes, this is him.” 

“This is Tokyo Medical Hospital. I’m calling regarding a Miss Y/N L/N. She was in a car accident around thirty minutes ago, near the central line highway. She’s just been transported to our Emergency Department where we are responding to her now. It would be best if you could arrive as soon as possible. Do you know her blood type? We need to attempt a transfusion.” 

He feels his voice strain in his neck, fighting to get the word out. Blood type. They need your blood type. You were in a car accident. Blood transfusion.

“O negative. Her blood type is O negative.” 

 - 

Shoko and Nanami meets him at the front of the hospital and he nearly breaks down right there. He was a mess without you. You had to be okay. You had to stay alive. 

“I’ll watch the kids.” 

Nanami walks off, his hands holding their tiny ones as he takes them on a walk around the block. 

“Am I going to lose her, Shoko? Is she okay?” 

“She’s really hurt, the glass shattered on impact. Just go through the doors, Satoru. She was asking for you.” 

Glass. He nearly runs through the double doors and is met directly with the sight of you. 

The air is gone from his lungs and the room is on fire. No. You’re lying on the gurney, the two nurses balancing shining, silver surgical tools in their hands. They’re digging shards of glass out of your soft, soft skin - from your arms, your chest, and the sides of your face. 

He can see the tears streaming down your face, your eyes pinching in pain every time they pull a piece out. The worst part, he can hear you murmuring his name and asking for him every time they do. He walks up aimlessly, interlocking his hand with your free, uninjured side. He can feel his hands shaking in yours, his blood burning in his skin. 

“Satoru?” 

He reaches forward, patting down your hair. 

“I’m here, i’m here.” 

“It hurts, Satoru.”

He feels his resolve break at the sound of your voice. He’s crying, full on crying at the sight of you like this. In pain, sitting alone for the past hour. He lifts your uninjured hand, pressing a kiss to the top of your knuckles before resting your fingers against his eyes. 

“It’s best if you can distract her while we do this. The silence makes it easier to focus on the pain.” 

He nods, turning his face away from the nurse and towards you. 

“Hi love.” 

“Hi Satoru.” 

“Don’t…don’t die on me, okay? I still have a lot of things I want to do with you.” 

“Like what? 

You hiss in pain, squeezing his hand as they keep going deeper into your skin. 

“Eat breakfast with you tomorrow. Make you those strawberry pancakes you love so much. Watch you yell as me as I squish whipped cream into Megumi’s hair.” 

He watches you laugh, the pain still pressed on your face as you try to respond. 

“Don’t respond. It’s okay, love. Just listen to me, yeah?” 

You nod, squeezing your hand in his own. 

“I…I love you.” he can feel his voice breaking, trying to stop his tears from returning. He clears his throat, his heart screaming in his chest. 

“I love you so much, Y/N. You’re everything to me. You and me, we’re going to be okay. I- I…there’s just so much we have to do still. I didn’t even get to marry you yet. Or put my own kid in you.” 

“Gross.” 

“Out of all that, that’s what you chose to respond to?” 

He sees you smile, your eyes all watery at the sight of him. He loves you. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you. 

- 

You wake up a few hours later, to a very pink eyed Satoru sitting on the chair next to you. He looks horrible.

You make the slightest bit of movement, attempting to reach out for him, and he jumps up from his chair. He presses his hands to your face, shaking his head profusely at you as you put your hands down. 

“No, no love. No moving, okay?” 

You nod and he gives you a soft smile, before locking his fingers with your own. You can see the tears building in his eyes, his smile being replaced with tears streaming down his eyes. 

“Can you put on a little nurses uniform? We’re about to live out my wildest dreams.” 

He laughs at your joke, his teary smile returning. 

“Shut up. Stop copying my fantasies.” 

His hands don’t leave your face, his entire body shaking at the sight of you. He’s scared, scared shitless and you don’t know how to fix it. You’re okay. You’re both going to be okay. You try to sit up, Satoru’s hands helping you most of the way. He has his arm secured around your waist, holding you steady. 

“Satoru. I’m okay.” 

“You’re not allowed to do that. You can’t just pick up and leave every time you get mad at me. I thought I lost you. I almost did lose you. Do you think I could live if I actually did?”  

“I know, Toru. I’m sorry.” 

He presses himself against your shoulder, crying into your arms. He’s ran his hands over your arms multiple time’s now, his fingers resting against your beating pulse at your wrist. You can feel the guilt twisting in your chest, for leaving, driving so recklessly, upsetting him in the first place. Any normal person would get up and run right about now. 

“You are the only family I have. Please don’t leave me, Satoru.” 

You feel your heart clench in your chest at the sight of his defeated resolve and can’t even remember why you were mad, why you drove off in the first place. You squeeze his hand twice, rubbing small circles into the back of his hand. 

“You’re the one who left me. I would never leave you. It’s you and me, in life and in death, Y/N. Preferably not the death part from you, if that’s possible please. That’s against the rules.” 

“In life and in death? Those are wedding vows, Satoru, we aren’t even married. And we don’t have rules.” you deadpan.

“You didn’t get the memo? We’re married in my head, sweet thing.” 

The two of you laugh, the giggles filling up the little medic bay you were sitting in. You feel him lean over, his face still wet and pink from his tears, and press a soft kiss to your forehead before pressing one to your lips. 

“Did you eat chocolate from the vending machine?” 

“No.” 

“Don’t lie. I can taste it on your lips, idiot. Your supposed wife is maybe possibly dying and you’re eating candy?” 

“You’re so vulgar. Talking about my lips like that in public. And I was eating for both of us. In your honor. I knew it’s what you would have wanted.” 

You roll your eyes at him, giving him a smile, before leaning your head against his shoulder. 

“Where are Megumi and Tsumiki?” 

“With Nanami, outside. I’ll go grab them now that you’re all bandaged up.” 

As he sprints out the door, you readjust in the bed, sitting up. You watch the two of them run in, their little faces swollen from crying. You feel the tears well in your own eyes at the sight of it. You open up your arms (which hurts like a bitch), signaling at the two of them to climb up. They press their bodies against you, their distinct smells pressed against your nose (vanilla for Tsumiki, clean laundry for Megumi). 

You can feel them sobbing against you and press kisses to both of their heads as they shake in your arms. You can feel your skin burning at them pressing against your bandages, but you don’t want to let them go.

“Okay, kids. Off. We can hug her as hard as we want when she feels better, okay?” 

Satoru Gojo, mind reader. They climb off, the three of them facing you at the side of your bed. They all have their hands pressed against you - Satoru’s resting in your hair, Tsumiki’s in your hand, and Megumi’s at your shoulder. Satoru speaks first. 

“I was thinking.” 

“You can do that?” 

“You wound me, Fushiguro Megumi.” 

The three of you snicker at the sound of his whiny voice, the smiles reaching all the way to Tsumiki and Megumi’s cheeks. 

“I’ve always had mental rules you should be following in my head, as I am our benevolent, perfect, spectacular leader. But we should establish real ones, for each other. We are a family after all.” 

“You’re not our leader.” deadpans Megumi, rolling his eyes at Satoru before eyeing you exasperatedly. 

“I like it, Satoru.” you whisper. 

“Me first, then. My first rule is for Miss Miki. You have to do anything and everything I say.” 

The three of you stare him down, pinching your eyes in annoyance. 

“I’m kidding. You guys are such a tough crowd. My first real rule is for Megumi. You’re not going to fight anymore. No punching people when you get angry.” 

He nods, whispering a promise to you, more than Satoru, that he won’t fight again. You squeeze his fingers that are interlocked with yours, nodding at the promise. 

“The next one is for you, missy. No running away, Y/N. Ever. We can argue all night for all I care. You don’t get to leave.”

You nod, promising all of them that you won’t leave them again. You don’t miss the way their tensed shoulders relax at your promise, shocked that they were even worried about you leaving again in the first place. You would never leave them again. Tsumikis’ quiet voice fills the room next. 

“Third rule, no fighting if we can avoid it. We’re all on the same team here so we can just try to work it out.” 

You reach forward, pressing your hand into Tsumiki’s hair, you and Satoru promising her you won’t fight, at least if you can’t help it, again. The three of you nod, smiling at each other at your new rules. 

“I have one.” 

You reach over, running your hands through Megumi’s hair as you smile at him, encouraging to speak up. 

“No one leaves the house without saying goodbye. You especially, Mom.” 

Mom. Mom. Fushiguro Megumi, in the six months he has been staying with you, has never called you Mom. You can feel the tears welling in your eyes, wanting to crush him in a hug for a better part of the next hour or the rest of his life. You’re his Mom. 

Before you can reach forward to do so, Satoru’s whiny voice stops you. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me. That’s not even fair.” 

“Toru, shut up.” 

“Megs. If I break my neck, will you call me dad?” 

You roll your eyes. Way to ruin a moment. 

“How about I break it right now and we test the theory?” 

Megumi and Tsumiki break out into giggles and you and Satoru can’t help but join them at the sound of their laughter. The three of them press themselves against you, wrapping your arms around as you all laugh. 

“Hey, one more rule, okay?”

You all nod, turning to face Satoru. 

“Everyone calls me daddy from now on.” 

“Can you actually break his neck now? Please? I can help.” 

[salamandergoo]

STWG Prompt: Crack Fic

“Eddie, I need you to stay calm.”

Those were always the words Eddie wanted to hear when he was waking up out of a haze, sprawled across his bed with the blankets tangled around his limbs.  He smacked his lips a few times and grimaced at the taste in his mouth before sitting up and rubbing his eyes.  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”  He untwisted his shirt and got out of bed, kicking dirty clothes on the floor aside as he yanked the door open.  “Why are you telling me to be calm?”  He yawned into his fist and froze in the middle of the hall.  “Wayne…?”

A hairless… thing was sat on the floor, pressed in close to his uncle’s leg.  It chirped and whined, sounding like a cat being mangled by a bird.  “I found him by my truck at the end of my shift.  Poor thing’s got a messed up leg, it was limping around looking all pathetic.”

“So you’re telling me, I can’t get a pet, but you get to drag this… this THING into our trailer?”

“I never said you couldn’t get a pet, I said you couldn’t keep a pregnant opossum, Ed.  This is different, he’s a hurt dog.  And we ain’t keeping him, he’s just going to stay a couple days until he’s walking better.”

“That’s not a dog!  Dogs don’t look like that!”  Eddie crept forward and squinted at the thing.  “It doesn’t have a face.  Or fur.”

“It was probably hit by a car.  One of them hairless terriers.”  Wayne shrugged off his jacket and took off his hat.  “Get it a little something to eat, will you?  I’m going to take a shower.”  He stepped away and the creature rumbled, standing up and hobbling after Wayne, head bumping against his ankle.  “I ain’t going far Benny.”  He bent and patted it on the side.

Eddie softened.  “Oh.  You… you’re calling it Benny?”

“Got a better name?”  Wayne didn’t quite meet Eddie’s eyes this time as he kept stroking the thing.  It leaned into the touches, its backside wiggled and, hey, it had a nub of a tail.  “It’s been almost a year.  Thought we ought to honor him somehow.”

“I don’t know what about a weird, naked dog reminds you of Benny, but… okay.  I’ll get it something to eat.”  Eddie made his way to the fridge, giving the thing- the dog- …Benny a wide berth.  He didn’t like the sounds it made, but Wayne was clearly taken with it.  “You keep a naked dog but not an opossum,” he grumbled.

He fixed a plate with some leftover chicken, scraping off as much of the seasoning as he could.  He could hear the shower running as he sat on the couch and set the plate on the floor.  “Come eat.  Dog.”  Eddie squinted at Benny while he sat by the bathroom door.  It was like he was staring at the door, but Eddie could’ve sworn the thing didn’t have eyes.  “Benny, come.”

It looked at him with its empty face before crossing the trailer.  It didn’t walk quite like a normal dog either, and not just because it the damaged leg..  It was like when Eddie would scramble up stairs and put his hands on the stairs like he was an animal so he could go faster.  It looked like it would just stand up on its back legs at some point.  It sniffed at the chicken and then opened its face.  Eddie clapped a hand over his mouth and watched in disturbed horror as it ate.

He didn’t dare move a muscle until Wayne was coming out of the bathroom with damp hair, changed into his lounge pants.  “Wayne.”  His voice was hushed and high pitched.  “Wayne, there’s something wrong with Benny.”

“Yeah, I know.  He was probably hit by a car.”

“His face OPENED!”

“My nana had a dog that was missing half his bottom jaw.  Looked ugly as sin but loved nothing more than a good lap to lay on.”  Wayne filled a mug with water and took a long drink.  “Benny must’ve healed wrong, doesn't make him less of a dog.”

“I don’t think he’s a dog at all!”  Eddie yelped when Benny turned his head to look up at him.  “I think you’ve brought a demon into our home.”

“Only demon in this house is you.”  Wayne dropped a hand on top of Eddie’s head and ruffled his already messy hair.  “We ain’t keeping him long.  I’m sure there’s someone nearby who can take better care of him than me.”  He set up his bed and grabbed his blanket.  “I’m gonna get some shut eye, so try and keep it down, alright?”

“…yup.”  Eddie watched as Wayne got settled and then watched Benny hop up onto the bed and curl up at Wayne’s feet.  He didn’t have a good feeling about it, but… Wayne seemed happy.  Lighter, somehow, with the dog on his bed.  Eddie could live with it for now.

But he’d be keeping a close eye out for any signs of what it actually was.  Because that was no dog.

[gatitties]

The truth

—Yandere!Bonten x motherly!reader (platonic)

—Summary: an accident makes you more aware of reality even though you already knew it, but what can someone like you do?

—Warnings: blood, kidnapping, obsession, toxic behaviors, harassment

I never thought this would go so far as to have five parts but... here we are! 🫣 (maybe this part is a bit long, srry)

@boycigs there you go!! 🫶🏻

Part one / Part two / Part three / Part four

You fumbled with the wall for the light switch, your tired eyes playing with you and making you almost trip over a blanket that had been thrown on the floor.

You yawned stretching your back, you had been working on some files that Kokonoi asked you to correct, you fell asleep without dinner and your stomach decided to wake you up at this time of night.

Luckily you had some leftovers from today's lunch, everyone had come to eat despite it being your 'day off', but since they had been busy with work more than usual lately, they couldn't spend as much time with you as they would like, although that didn't stop them from hiding cameras in your apartment to check that everything was okay from time to time.

A knock at the door made you frown, remembering the first time you met Sanzu. You walked slowly, expecting to run into him, or even one of the Haitani brothers who ran brothels near the area, it wouldn't be the first time they've come home drunk after a good night.

When you opened it, confusion flooded your face, there was no one there, not a note, nothing, you thought that maybe you were still too sleepy and you had hallucinated, or maybe it was some late-night teenager making a joke. You shrugged shutting to go back to your dinner, but before you knew it or could make a move something hit you in the back of the neck, knocking you unconscious, the last thing you saw was a few blurry faces, but none you knew in the slightest.

Panic, panic was the first thing Mochizuki experienced when he saw the recordings from the cameras installed in your house. He had to do a checkup the next morning and just seeing how careless they had been to let that trash kidnap you made his thoughts turn to disgust and guilt.

Not even five minutes after seeing that, all the executives were gathered in their meeting room, no matter where they were, they all got there instantly upon answering Mochi's call.

"And if I pause right here..." Mochi stopped the video just as two men lifted your unconscious body "this guy here, on his neck, his tattoo is from another band."

"Those bastards have been giving us so much trouble lately, I'm looking forward to seeing blood drain from their brains."

Sanzu slammed both hands on the table, completely irritated and concerned for your well-being, he was controlling his urge to go looking for you only because Mikey had remained silent with a blank stare throughout the entire meeting.

The Haitani brothers were already warming up to fight, Takeomi was mobilizing some men to search your apartment for clues while Koko and Kakucho were trying to find where your chip signal was. Yes, although unknown to you, they decided to insert a tracking chip into you a while ago just to know where you were when they couldn't be around.

The signal was bad, either because you were too far away from their location or because you were somewhere underground, which didn't help much. They were all probably on the verge of hysteria, the search wasn't going fast enough as they'd like and it only made their mood worse.

It took at least five days for them to come up with any solid leads to your whereabouts, the worst five days of their existence, the poor people or employees who will come across any of them probably aren't alive anymore. Mikey locked himself in and refused to come out unless they heard from you, he barely ate and his sleep schedule got even worse.

"Are you sure it's there?"

"Yes, several of our men have seen these guys with the same tattoo come and go, it doesn't appear to be their central base but it's hidden enough to carry out kidnappings."

Takeomi pointed to a warehouse on the outskirts of the city, everyone mobilized to go there immediately, even Mikey and Kokonoi, who didn't usually get their hands dirty with this kind of work, decided to go.

As for you... it was confusing the first day you woke up, the feeling of a gun pointed at your head became familiar as did the ropes on your wrists and ankles. Your reaction upon seeing the criminals was to release an inaudible sigh, without fear or surprise, your state was neutral.

You knew it, you knew that sooner or later this was going to happen, as much as your guys will try to hide you from problems with other mafias, there are always some leaks, and playing with loved ones from enemy gangs is the easiest card to play to threaten. Although in this case they didn't even have time to issue a threat to Bonten when they had already been threatened by your kidnapping.

The following days were threats to your people to try to get information that could put Bonten in trouble, as well as planning to move to another of their hideouts, however you were unaware of most of the things that Bonten did, although you were their secretary, you were only in charge of planning schedules and correcting some superficial reports from Kokonoi, you were not much help to these scoundrels.

"Damn! I don't understand how they could have protected you so much if you're just a useless old woman, you're useless! Why the hell do those guys hold you in such high esteem...?"

In the outburst of anger as he took it out on you, the sound of his hand slamming into your cheek sounded as the door above fell off its hinges.

"Boss, we have a prob-!"

The eye of the man who was coming down the stairs was blown out thanks to a bullet, landing right between your feet, you closed your eyes and, no matter if you don't believe in any god or anything, you prayed, not for you, but for what all these people did not suffer such a painful death.

You knew what Bonten men were capable of, at first you thought you were exaggerating, but that was the truth and at times, it terrified you. You were terrified to think of all the lives that left this world just because of you, your boys were more than gangsters, more than just criminals, they were monsters looking for any excuse to kill, and you were that excuse.

You knew that there was nothing in this world that would make you reverse time to the point of not having helped that drunk guy at the door of your house, you knew that nothing would make all those men leave your side because of showing your kindness, you knew that no kind of therapy could help such rotten minds at this point, so you could only swallow, as scared as you were, as much as your legs trembled, you had chosen this path yourself and you had to accept it.

"Mom..."

Your breath quickened slightly as you felt Sanzu's cold hand resting on your cheek, you slowly opened your eyes to see pure relief reflected in his, ignoring the bloodstains on his clothes and face, and even ignoring the blood he was leaving on your face, you smiled at him.

"I'm fine guys, I'm… fine."

You had to swallow and avoid getting dizzy from the smell of oxide in the place, your memories are blurry when you try to remember when you left there, you remember seeing many practically mutilated bodies, a river of blood and many arms holding your body as if you were going to disintegrate at that precise moment.

After you were rescued, you spent at least two days in a hospital at Kokonoi's request to see that you didn't have any injuries, everyone turned to you with questions about how you were doing, especially mentally.

It became suffocating, the amount of attention you received after that event, made you understand that, from now on, you could not have a single moment for yourself, no matter the job, the time or the place, you will always have one of them on top of you to keep an eye on you.

It doesn't matter if you complain, the truth, which you had to accept once again, is that nothing but death could separate you from these men, because they were not willing to let you go, ever. But the worst of all is that you accepted it, you accepted your fate, a fate that was sealed a long time ago, you accepted that you lived with monsters, that you helped and treated horrible people like completely sane people, but, an ordinary person like you, no could change anything.

"How long until the cake is ready?"

"Don't be impatient Rin, it's only been in the oven for five minutes."

"That's already a long time..."

"Shut up, you're always so impatient!"

"Are you looking for a fight!?"

"Kakucho, could you...?"

A nod from him made you sigh in relief, breaking up the Haitani brothers' fight as you sat at the table with the others who were talking about random topics. You stared into your teacup, your blank stare imagining imaginary scenes of another lifestyle in the steaming liquid.

"Are you ok? You seem distracted."

You looked at Kokonoi, keeping your gaze off without focusing on his face, you nodded with a slight smile when you saw that everyone had shut up to look at you.

"Yeah, I just didn't sleep well today."

"We'll buy a new bed then."

"I did not mean that..."

And like many things in your current life, your opinion was thrown away just to bring you more 'comfort'. You had no power and that was the absolute truth, nothing could change at this point.

[viking-raider]

Two Hearts - Cotton Candy Goodness

Summary-> It's a special Valentine's Day for you and Henry.

Pairing-> Henry Cavill/Reader

Word Count-> 1.4k

Warnings-> G: Fluff, Language, just two nerds in love

Inspiration-> V-Day!

Author’s Note-> It's stupid late!

-> Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS! -> If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST as well as my @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’ Ao3-> DRAGON_DWELLER

“Perfect!”

Henry smiled as he sprinkled a few more white rose petals amongst the red that dusted the grass of the backyard of the Dorking mini-mansion he shared with you and Kal.

“Kal, quit trying to eat them!” He scolded the Bear. “You have to leave some for the surprise.” He sighed, brushing a hand through his curls and looking at all the work he put in with the trail of red and white petals, outlined with twinkling LED tealights, that led from the open back doors of the house into a heart shape underneath the gazebo, where you usually relaxed during the cool or warm, English days to grill, practice lines or Henry keep his sword skills sharp.

However, the sound of an engine coming up the driveway startled Henry back into action, a nervous panic filling his stomach as he dashed back into the house. Hiding the leftover petals, he took a deep breath, settling himself, before greeting you in the foyer as you came through the door.

“Hey, babe.” He beamed, taking your purse and coat. “How was your spa appointment?” He asked, putting them away, antsy and hoping you didn't suspect anything.

“It was positively lovely!” You answered, toeing your shoes off. “The full body, exfoliating massage with hot stones was pure bliss, and we may need to invest in getting our own vitality pool.” You smiled up at him, your whole body still feeling tingly, limp noodle, in all the right ways and places.

“I'm glad I booked you the correct treatment, then.” Henry purred, hooking an arm around your waist to pull you into a sweet kiss. “But, I have one more surprise for you.” He confessed against your lips.

“Really?” You frowned up at him. “I haven't given you any of yours yet.” You commented, hugging your arms around his waist.

“What could you possibly give me that I don't already have and need?” He asked, blue eyes soft and soulful.

“Oh, there's many things to come in our future, Henry Cavill.” You giggled, pushing up on your toes to kiss his stubbly jaw, then broke free from him, scurrying away upstairs to your office, a sacred place Henry never tread unless you were there.

Making it the perfect hiding spot for anything you wanted to keep Henry's paws off of.

Plucking up a cute Valentine's day gift bag, you returned downstairs to find your boyfriend patiently waiting for you. “Happy Valentine's Day, Puppy.” You smiled, handing it over with a giddy excitement.

“Thank you, Dove.” He winked, crossing the foyer for the den, plopping down into his gaming chair and removing the red tissue paper. “Holy!” He gasped, eyes flaring as his blue orbs were greeted with the bag's contents. “Babe!” He snapped, pulling out the latest GeForce RTX graphics card. “I've been trying to get this for weeks, but it's been sold out!” He looked up at you, mouth hanging open.

“How?”

“I sold what was left of my soul.” You chuckled, grinning, having listened to Henry's laments every time he checked for the card to be in stock. “I had my dad watch the site virtually around the clock, with my bank info, and the instructions to buy it the moment it came into stock.” You bit your lip and looked so guilty. “I confess, the card has been in the house for like two weeks.”

“You've had the holy grail of graphics cards in the house for two weeks?” Henry whispered, stunned. “I've been sleeping in the same space as it.” He grunted, shaking his head, gently setting it on his computer desk. “I'm canceling your gifts.”

You laughed, slapping him on the shoulder. “No, you're not! There's one more.”

“I'll think about it.” He replied, narrowing his eyes as he dived a hand back into the bag, feeling around, until he caught the edge of an envelope. “What's this?” He frowned, opening the flap to discover a single swath of fabric.

“You know, how we started your family tree, and you wanted to know more about your Scottish side?” You reminded him. “To get; in touch with your Highlander side.” You quoted him.

“Yeah.” He nodded, rubbing his thumb over the soft stitching.

“Well, I've been fiddling around with it, and I found the Tartan for that side of your family tree.” You explained, pressing your lips together. “There's this company I found online that replicates it. I just had them do the pocket square, cause I wasn't sure how into it you'd be, for something more full blown, like a whole kilt or--”

Henry stood up and practically crushed you against his body, leaving just enough room to breathe. “Thank you.” He whispered into your hair, nuzzling your strands softly. “It means a lot more than the graphics card.”

You smiled and snuggled against him, inhaling his scent and warmth. “I'm glad.”

The two of you stayed in your embrace for a long moment, enjoying the quiet closeness. Until Henry spotted Kal charging in, petals in his mouth.

“Fuck.” He hissed under his breath.

“What's wrong?” You frowned, shifting in his arms.

“Nothing, nothing's wrong, my love.” He grinned, turning slightly so you didn't see Kal. “But, it is my turn to give you your last gift.” He cooed, removing a red blindfold he had tucked in his back pocket.

“Oh, I didn't know it was kinky Sunday.” You teased, allowing Henry to blindfold you.

Henry chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss to the bridge of your nose, resting his hands on your shoulder and helping you turn around. Disoriented as you were, you trusted Henry to guide you wherever he was taking you. Back through the foyer and to the back patio, where the start of his rose petal trail began, thankfully still intact. Despite Kal's seeming intent to eat them like the strange goat that he was. He stepped around you, taking your hands to help you down the single step out of the house and navigate the patio furniture.

“Where are we going, Strider? Mordor?” You quipped, the scent and feeling of freshly mowed grass and the cool, fresh air greeting your nose, telling you where you were.

“It's closed this time of year, little Hobbit.” Henry chuckled back at you, bringing you to a stop under the gazebo and the center of the rose petal heart. “I thought we'd visit Rivendell instead.” He cooed, removing the blindfold.

Blinking a few times, you looked about you and admired the gazebo. Everything that normally adorned it cleared away, so it could be decorated with the rose petals and twinkling fairy lights. The four corner supports of the structure had photos of you and Henry throughout your relationship adorning them. To which Henry had made a sweet note on each.

“You went all out, while I was at the Spa.” You said, looking up at him, a wave of suspicious nerves hitting you.

“It was a double motive.” Henry smirked with boyish guilt.

“So, what was the other part of your motive?” You asked, a slight squeak in your voice.

Henry took your hands in his, massaging his thumbs over your knuckles, while trying to build the courage and words to speak what he was feeling. He took a deep breath, nervously kissing one of your hands, with a soft chuckle.

“I love you.” He blurted out, meeting your eyes. “I didn't think I could love anyone as much as I love you. When we're not together, even if it's a different room, I miss you, and I feel like I'm missing a part of myself. Then, when we are together,” He drew in a breath and sighed softly, the ghost of a fond smile on his lips. “I could care less about anything else.” He confessed to you, releasing one of your hands to access his front pocket, kneeling on one knee at the same time.

“Oh, cheese and crackers.” You sighed, eyes wide.

“Or maybe, Cavill and Cavill, if you say yes?” Henry replied, holding out one of the most beautiful rings you'd ever seen in your life. “To marry me?” He cocked a hopeful brow.

“Yeah.” You nodded, stunned, excitement building in you like carbonation. “Yes!” You giggled, bouncing on your toes. “God, Henry, YES!”

A beaming smile lit up Henry's face as he stood back up, taking a moment to get the ring on your finger, his hands shaking so bad. “Now, you can eat them, Kal!” He shouted towards the house, making you laugh, before he pulled you into a breathless kiss.

[hsdiaries]

glitter on the floor;

6.5K words

best friend!harry x best friend fmc, phh, running out of time, love confession, little itty bitty dom, little itty bitty sub, oral fmc recieving, p in v, praising, teasing.

"Can you believe after today, there is just five months until graduation, Goldie? Five months left before we never have to fight for parking in Jefferson or cross our fingers we didn't get Ferguson as our thesis mentor?" Harry chuckled over the phone, a smile instantly playing on my pink lips. That's what it did. His laugh. Turned on all the stars with his crescent moon smile.

"You mean five months until you leave me to fend for myself? Glad you're so enthusiastic about it, H." I pout, finishing up the charcuterie spread I had been working on for the past couple hours.

"D, you know I'm dreading that above anything else. Who else is going to judge people with me over an afternoon coffee? No one understands afternoon coffees like you."

I pushed off the kitchen counter, turning to walk over to the dining room table, sitting down, "I guess."

Everyday that felt like a personal countdown to adventure for Harry felt like a countdown to loneliness for me. It wasn't that I didn't have friends, I had plenty; taking in the giant city rental we would be using to countdown the new year only proved it. Still, they weren't Harry. They weren't my best friend. They weren't my everyday life line.

They weren't the man I had been deeply, painfully in love with for four years now.

"Look, tonight, we will get beyond drunk. We will eat our grapes under the table, we will jump in the giant indoor pool at midnight and wash away the stress of senior year. I need you to forget that I'm going anywhere come the new year. Let's just have the best time, okay?" He said over the phone, I inhaled, holding my breath, slowly letting out as Leigh and Olive walked in the door, waving around bags of alcohol.

"Okay, I gotta go, thing one and thing two just got here, gotta finish setting up." I said and he laughed.

"Five bucks on Leigh knocking out before midnight." He said at the same time I whispered it to him, each of us cracking up.

"Is that dimples? Tell him to leave you alone, it's girl time before he gets here and you ignore us the rest of the night." Olive said, my eyes rolling.

"Bye Harry, the girls are testy." I giggled a bit before he said bye again, and we hung up. I looked down at my phone, biting my lip as Leigh walked over, placing bottles of vodka on the table.

"Tell him." She said, her weight falling to her left hip. I furrowed my eyebrows as I glanced up at her, my eyes drifting to Olive then back to Leigh.

"Tell him what exactly?" I said, my chest tight as I filled with confusion.

"That you're in love with him and always have been and you want seven kids with him and a big house wi—..."

"—Woah! I do not love him!" I cut off Olive who slammed the fridge door shut, giving me a face of unamusement.

"Goldie, baby....everyone knows. I mean everyone. Even the north wing cleaning lady our freshman year knew," Olive said, walking over, standing behind me and wrapping her arms around my neck, "He's leaving, D. For three years...as of now. What if he stays? What if he me—.."

"— stop, stop I get it. Okay. I get it. You think I don't think about it? But what if I tell him and he doesn't feel the same. Then we spend the last five months together with him being awkward as fuck. No thank you." I said, gently pushing Olive off of me and getting up. I walked over to the charcuterie spread, picking up leftover cheese and meat packages, moving to throw them away.

"Can you all handle the decorations? Imma go rest a bit before we have to get ready." I smiled small, both of them nodding as I moved out of the kitchen and into the giant living room to the master suite I knew I would even be sharing with Harry tonight.

I closed the door and locked it, moving to the bed and letting myself fall on it face first, screaming into the mattress hoping it was muffled enough no one would bother me.

Harry's POV

"You're bringing Taylor? Harry, you can't be serious. You realize you are going to shatter D into a million pieces right?" Zayn said, as I held up two different shirts in front of me.

"What are you even talking about? Goldie, if anything will make her feel welcomed, join us on a drunken night." I turned over my shoulder at him, raising both my eyebrows.

"You're so daft, Styles. Honestly. We all know Goldie loves you. And you love her, you damn idiot. Did you not hear her disappointment on the phone? Tonight for her is about you two, and you're bringing a girl?" Zayn said, suddenly my throat was tightening. I cleared it, turning away from him and furrowing my eyebrows as I looked in the mirror.

"She doesn't love me like that, Zayn. It's not like that with her. Even if it was, I'm not risking it," I closed my eyes, shaking my head that I was even letting him get to me.

"You... and her actually, are both idiots. You're both in love with each other and are going to leave here filled with stupid regret and I'm over trying to get you to see it," He said, shrugging and walking out of my room. I rolled my lip into my mouth, biting it before throwing my shirts on the bed.

"Fucks sake," I called out, throwing my head back. When my head rolled back straight, my eyes landed on the photo on my desk. Goldie and I at her sorority formal last year before she dropped. I swallowed, wondering if maybe Zayn was right.

—

I entered the sorority house watching as other couples met, taking photos and admiring each other's outfits. I rolled my eyes thankful Blondie was over this life. It wasn't her, didn't suit her. She was too kind. Too caring to ever fit in with the people she called her supposed sisters.

"So you do own a suit?" I heard a voice say from above me, my eyes moving to the stairs as Blondie made her way down them. I felt my jaw drop slightly, pressing my lips together as I swallowed. Sitting on her body was a sparkly black dress, one long sleeve, one bare shoulder. Her long blonde hair draped down her body. She was beautiful, breathtaking really. My best friend, the only girl that could get me in a stupid suit at a stupid sorority formal.

The fact Goldie was her name fit her better than I think her parents ever imagined. She was golden.

Making the rest of her way over to me, I grabbed her hand, spinning her around in a small circle. She giggled as I pulled her towards me, "You, are the prettiest girl ever to be in Sigma Kappa, shame they are losing their only true asset." I whispered as the back of her hand hit my chest.

"H, shut. No one knows yet and I would like to enjoy this last formal as my money went towards it." She glared at me a bit and all I could do was poke her nose as her demeanor softened.

"Okay, I'm sorry. Let's enjoy the night, at least the food is good." I shrugged, pulling out my phone and turning on the camera, "Alright, let's be like everyone else and show off how cute we are." I snapped photos of us, being as silly as possible before we started loading into giant charter buses taking us to the unknown location.

Once we arrived, we ate and drank with everyone else; keeping up appearances and interacting with the few girls that were actually nice to my Goldie. By the time the dancing started, I was in my own world with her, nothing else really mattered other than making sure my best friend was having the time of her life.

At one point, the drinks were starting to create an overall haze on the night. Goldie's body felt heavy against mine, her hips rolling so that her ass pushed against me, my prick fighting the blood flow she was beckoning with her movements. Her scent seemed to be the only thing my sense could pick up, cherry vanilla dreams as my nose found itself trailing her neck.

Her breath was rigid as my hands explored her waistline, fingers digging into the fleshy feel of her hips through her dress. The way her hips rolled, placed my dick perfectly between her ass, hard as ever and I couldn't find it in my drunken haze to care. She was my best friend, but she was also insanely perfect. Sexy beyond what my imagination could have ever hoped for. I wasn't blind and I wasn't an idiot. I also suddenly was ignoring any bit of logic that normally stopped me from crossing a line with her. My lips grazed her skin softly, her hips slowing slightly in their movement as I did. My lips puckered softly against her skin as the music began to slow, pulling us both out of the haze. My eyes skimmed the room, as couples began turning to face each other, wrapping up in each other as they moved to the slow music.

Goldie pulled away, slowly turning to face me, her face almost unsure as to what her next move should be. I swallowed, my hand reaching for her waist, pulling her against me, my hard cock pressing against her though making my cheeks redden in embarrassment. Her giggle made a chuckle escape my own, her hands relaxing around my neck.

"You seem to have invited a third member to this dance, H." She teased, her chocolate brown eyes searching my green.

"I think he was called over by you D, you seemed to be drawing him out in your direction," I raised an eyebrow with a tilt of my head and she shrugged innocently.

"No idea what you could possibly be referring to."

We moved to the soft flow of the music, silence surrounding us as her forehead pressing into my chin, her soft breath hitting against my neck. My fingers traced a soft up and down pattern along her back, playing with the ends of her hair whenever I came in contact with them. Her fingers massed the nape of my neck gently, tugging softly at the curls that rested there.

I could have stayed there, in her cherry vanilla heaven, layered in golden dust of magic; but the music picked up. Everyone cheered as they broke out into dance, jumping to the EDM music that slowly picked up until the beat dropped. She pulled away from me, her eyes searching mine again before looking down and over her shoulder.

"I'm going to go use the bathroom, grab me some water?" She said and I nodded, watching a look of confusion flash quickly across her before she nodded, turning and walking away. I watched her walk away, I watched her and my feet had sudden aches to follow her. To grab her and tell her I knew what she felt right then and there. That I had felt that confusion everyday since freshman year. To tell her I also felt confused on what lines I could and wanted to blur with her.

But I didn't. I turned to the bar to grab us each a water.

Blondie's POV

I looked myself over in the mirror, fisting and unfisting my hands to fight the sweaty palms that kept happening. All afternoon into the early evening my mind had been racing with Olive and Leigh's statements all circling into my current decision.

I was going to tell Harry how I felt. I was going to finally hand him my heart on a damn gold platter for his taking.

If he even wanted it.

I sighed, pulling up my black strapless dress, small pieces of silver sequins drawing eyes to my supple chest, a beautiful jeweled necklace sitting around my neck. I looked nice, I knew I did, and I couldn't wait for Harry's eyes to take me in, because they always told me how beautiful I looked. Even if the words never left his mouth.

Turning to exit the room, I opened the door to chatter and music coming from down the hall, people slowly starting to fill up the giant house. I took a deep breath, plastering a smile on my face, hiding the nerves that were slowly eating away at me. My eyes scanned the room until I found Leigh and Olive, my feet caring me quickly in their direction. They both looked at me wide-eyed, Olive clapping at my arrival, taking my hand and spinning me.

"Very well done, very well done," she said, making me roll my eyes as I took in my best friends dressed in glitter and sequins to the tens.

"And look at you both! I'm blinded!" I exclaimed as Leigh handed me a shot.

"All I'm saying is, if we don't get laid tonight, I've lost hope in all men," we all laughed, Olive picking up a shot which we all quickly cheersed and threw down our throats.

Vodka, yuck.

I scrunched up my nose, shaking my face as I looked over the room. Still no Harry, and I would lie if I said it wasn't driving me insane. I brought my attention back to Leigh and Olive as they carried on with their usual back and forth. I tried to pay attention, I really did, but half of what they said escaped me as quickly as the words left their lips.

Eventually we moved our way into the party, greeting, mingling and dancing whenever a good song on the playlist came on. I was three shots in when the door finally opened, Zayn and Niall walking in and my heart flew up in my throat knowing Harry would soon follow behind. My lips parted, my mouth drying from the breath he took away from me. He was wearing a tweed jacket black pants , with a white low cut tank tucked in underneath. The cross pendant I gave him for his first birthday we spent together sitting perfectly on his hair peppered chest.

I couldn't seem to catch my breath, but it was no longer at the mere sight of him. It was at the way I watched his hand wrap around the slim waist of a tall blonde. It was the way she smirked at him, eyes traveling down as she placed her slim fingers on the cross pendant that I felt belonged to me.

"Baby!" I was snapped out of the slow motion vortex I entered as Leigh squealed, running over and clinging on to Zayn, kissing as Niall pretended to gag next to them. He spotted Olive, blushing almost instantly, their greeting much more quiet as he kissed her cheek, holding her gently.

I swallowed, looking around desperately for a way to avoid what I knew was coming next, but Harry's arms wrapping around my waist and picking me up in an embrace ruined any plan of running.

"Blondie Michaels, that is way too much cleavage for a lady," he said, placing me down and kissing my forehead. I smiled, licking my lips and shrugging.

"Call me the town whore, I'll embrace it," I shrugged, my eyes flicking quickly to the woman behind him then back to his perfect lilypad eyes.

"Never that, you look beautiful, D. I um, I wanna introduce you to someone," he turned to the blonde, calling her over as I swallowed, "Goldie, this is Taylor, Taylor this is my best friend Goldie, or D for short."

I held out my hand, which was met with clear distaste and weak hold, "Pleasure." She spoke, pressing her lips into a tight forced smile.

My hand fell back down to my side, my entire night shifting into a direction I hadn't spent the past few hours mapping out in my head. I needed another drink, or three. My eyes quickly moved to find Leigh's already on mind, and without further explanation she was moving over to me and linking our arms.

"If you'll excuse me, Miss Michaels owes me another shot," we smiled, pulling away from the situation and I was thankful when she directed me towards my bedroom instead of the bar. Footsteps followed, Zayn soon joining my other side and wrapping his arm around both of us.

"I told him not to bring her," Zayn said as we entered the room, my lip caught between the tight grip of my teeth.

"Is he fucking dumb? Or on something. He has to be on something," Leigh said towards Zayn as I paced back and forth in front of the vanity.

"No, just a bloody idiot. But to be fair, they both are," Zayn said, I stopped walking instantly, my head snapping in his direction.

"I'm not an idiot, Zayn. I would never bring a date...not on an night like tonight." I said sternly, my breath making chest inflate, unsure how to breathe it out properly without crying. I felt the warmth of my eyes, tears slowly spilling as I reached up to wipe them away.

"Hey, hey, D, I'm sorry...I know you ain't...I'm just saying, you bo—.."

"— I was going to tell him tonight." I breathed out quietly, a soft sob coming from me. I inhaled sharply through my nose, tossing my head back to try and stop the path my tears wanted to fall on.

"You what?" Leigh exclaimed, quickly in front of me, gripping my arms, "Babe, look at me."

I swallowed my cry, looking down at Leigh's eyes and shrugging, "Obviously this is deeply one sided and for the best. I feel less of an idiot now than I would have as I handed him over my heart and he let it drop." I moved from her grip, clearing my throat, "Let's go. We only have a couple hours until the New Year, I'm not wasting it on tears."

I pushed past them, hearing their calls for my name, but all I saw was red. Red anger, red hurt, red disappointment. I was a menace the rest of the night, drinking more than I planned, avoiding Harry at all costs. Our interactions were short, yet his eyes seemed to linger on me the more I ignored him. They were burning my skin with their gaze and I thrived in it. I knew it was driving it insane and I was happy that it was.

He glared softly at me everytime I ignored Taylor, acting like she was invisible. Serving shots got everyone but forgetting hers. Asking her to take group photos but always forgetting to switch so she could be included. I was becoming the person I hated being around. I was becoming a replica of my ex sorority sister as they froze me out of the chapter.

But I was hurting, my heart slowly falling and shattering into pieces along the floor of this part; it was stepped on and demolished further as time went by.

"D," I heard his voice behind me as I made myself another vodka cran.

"Hmm?" I barely muttered out, taking a long sip of my drink, turning in his direction. We weren't alone for long, Taylor coming up behind him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

His brows furrowed as his eyes searched mine, he was angry, I could tell by the way his lips pursed, "Nothing."

"Great," I pressed my lips into a smile, brushing past them, my shoulder hitting against Taylor as I did. I downed my drink, searching the room for a distraction. Any distraction. Leigh was grinding on Zayn, his lips preoccupied with her neck, Niall and Olive finally managing to figure out they liked each other enough to sit on the back couch and make out. My eyes scanned the room landing on Louis.

My ex hook up Louis that Harry hated more than anything in the world.

My feet were dragging me in his direction before common sense could hit, before I could think of a reason why I should stop.

"Hey fucker," I smirked, throwing my hair over my left shoulder, his eyes meeting mine for a time that couldn't even be measured in comparison to how they lingered on my chest.

"Michaels, ain't this a fuckin' surprise," he smirked, bringing his bourbon to his lips.

"I'm full of them sometimes," I winked, feeling like an utter idiot as I went through the motions of what I was doing.

"I see you let the puppy if it's leash for the night. Heard Taylor's been wanting to sink her claws in for a while, can't believe she managed to get him away from you," he smirked, licking his lips, waiting on my reaction.

"Realized I hate beggars," I said nonchalantly, a chuckle slipping his lips. He moved towards me, his hand slipping around to the small of my back, pulling me tight against him. He breathed into my neck, making me swallow.

"That's cause you like to do the begging, sweets, I 'avent forgotte'," he kissed my neck, flush traveling over my face. I peeked my eyes up at him, feeling a heat grow between us, my face inching up so our lips could meet when I heard a voice so angry it rattled me from the inside.

"Goldie. Outside, now!" I heard Harry's voice boom, quickly turning to face him.

"Excuse me?" I said, my face I could feel, red hot from anger of him ordering me around after what he did.

"Woof," Louis called out behind me, earning a deep inhale from me.

Harry let out a frustrated growl, grabbing my arm and pulling me with him toward the back, I quickly broke free from his grip, pushing past him and leading the way, refusing to be handled in the manner he thought was acceptable. I didn't realize how fast I was moving until he called out for me.

"Slow the fuck down! Goldie fucking stop!"

"What he fuck do you want from me, Harry? What do you want?" I said my voice raising, every bit of composure I had managed to fake slowly starting to leave me.

"I want to know what the fuck your problem is with me tonight? Why you're being such a fucking....such a —..."

"— what? Bitch? Say it, Harry. Say it like you have any balls left." I yelled back.

"Yes, D, you're being a fucking bitch to me and to Taylor. She hasn't done fucking done anything to you. For fucks sake, all I did was walk through the door ready to spend my last New Year's Eve with my best friend for a while...."

I scoffed, pulling at my hair, "Oh you're so,...and how did you plan on doing that? One hand around my waist and the other around hers? Dancing sandwiched between two blondes, oh I bet you like that idea. Now what happened at midnight in your little fantasy? Huh? You kissed her and then got some second hand high from me? Huh? God I feel like such a fucking idiot! A damn idiot!" I cried, slowly losing my mind, losing my ability to remember that I wasn't supposed to break in front of him. I couldn't fight the tears anymore.

"Hey, hey, hey...." His voice softened so quickly, his hands gripping on my arms to stabilize me, "D, baby D, come on, talk to me, please I'm going insane here."

I shook my head, trying to break from him stumbling back, his arms quickly wrapping around my waist holding me up, "Goldie, please."

"I...I was going to...I...." I cried, my gaze meeting his, through fuzzy tear filled eyes I swallowed, "You. You're the problem. You are your beautiful chestnut curls and lily pad eyes. God, I love you, you damn idiot. Why did you walk in here with her? Why her and not me? Wh—..." I was interrupted by his lips finding mine, finding a rhythm that was so messy, so needy for the next beat.

He broke away from me, pressing his forehead into mine, heavy breaths coming from both of us, "You are an idiot," he chuckled, "but so am I; because I've been in love with you since the moment I met you. And I'm sorry. I couldn't face what tonight meant. I couldn't face my true feelings, so I invited Taylor. I felt like if I directed what I wished tonight was to her instead of you, it would hurt less when I left. It would hurt less to never have called you mine."

I swallowed hard, shaking my head, "No, I've always been yours. And you've always been mine. I...I can't have you leave without knowing that," I took in his soft expression, the tears now forming in his eyes and my lips quickly met his again. Hands gripping at skin that felt so right. That seemed to mold into each other so perfectly.

"Come here," he whispered against my lips, hand linking with mine as he led me down to the boathouse near the lake. He moved quickly, pushing open the door and leading me inside. I watched as he jumped into the small sailing boat, holding his hand out to me as I climbed in behind him. He laid us down on the tarp that protected the boat, his fingers tangling into my hair.

Our kisses were now opened mouth, tongue finding each other in a tangled mess, skimming along the roofs of each. My hands slipped under his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders, he shimmed out of it as I untucked his tank, I wanted him in every way, and after four years I wasn't wasting any time.

"Help me, Harry. Please," I begged in a whiny voice. Louis was right, I loved begging, but only because I knew the result. He groaned, into my mouth, breaking the kiss to quickly undo his pants, my fingers pulling at the hem of his shirt and slipping it off of him. His fingers moved to my dress once his pants were off, reaching around to unzip me, fingers tugging my dress down, lips soon meeting my chest, hands pushing my tits together so that he could get his mouthful of both.

I moaned in pleasure, my head knocking back, mind lost in the idea that this was finally happening. Every dirty dream and fantasy I had of him was coming to life.

"I've dreamed about this, D. I've dreamed about what cherry vanilla tasted like, and god baby it tastes like a damn dream," he bit into my skin, making me arch into him, our skin creating a delicious friction.

"You haven't even had your mouthful yet, H," I whispered, my eyes locking with his as my hand squeezed between us, my fingers moving down my body, lifting my dress and moving into the band of my thong. I was greeted by a pool of arousal that started just for him, bringing it back up, gently pushing it into his mouth, "This is how it actually tastes."

My whispers were met with his eyes rolling back as his lips closed around my fingers, licking and sucking them clean. I pulled them out as his lips popped on release.

"Bloody fucking hell, Goldie Michaels, I'm about to fucking bust," he breathed, making a chuckle escape me. He smirked, pulling my bottom lip between his teeth, as his hands pushed my dress up, releasing my lip to push my dress over my head. His eyes traveled down my body, his pupils seemed to dilate as he went, a hunger behind them soon finding their way back to mine.

"You know what I think about often? I thought about it just today actually. Your formal, that dance floor," he inhaled sharply, his hand pressing down on my hip, dragging his fingers back into my ass, kneading at it, "The way your hips pushed into me, the way I could have slipped that dress up to your waist, fit right in," he swallowed, his voice a low grumble almost. His hand pulled back, smacking my ass before kneading the pain away.

My heart raced in my chest, remembering that night, the way it was ruined just as his lips pressed into my neck, just as he was doing now. He sucked on my skin in between each kiss, up to my jawline. I whined as he ran his nose softly along it, "I would have let you. Welcomed it."

I pushed my hips forward, pressing him slightly flat, lowering onto his bare, hard cock. I adjusted myself so I could press my cunt down along his shaft, grinding it up and down his length. He reached down, moving my thong to the side, letting my wet cunt fully meet him.

"Were you as ready for me as you are now? So sweet, and wet without me even doing much?" He whispered into my ear, his thumb pressing down on my clit, making my hips jolt forward, his other hand gripping at my hip, helping me continue my movements on him.

"Mmm, mhm. Harry, I think my cunt's always been ready for you. I think it was made for you," I licked my lips, glancing down at him, then to the mess I was making, "Look at how much it cries for you, begs you to fill me up. Fill me up Harry, please."

"I have other things I need to tend to first, Goldie," He smirked, flipping us over so I was on my back, his body shifting between my legs. He placed a hand on either side of my hips, fingers looping around the band of my underwear, yanking them off me and throwing them to the side. He placed my left leg on his shoulder, kissing a path down my calf, down to under my knee and back around to my inner thigh, letting it bend over his shoulder. His nose trailed a path up to my belly button and back down, ending his journey with a soft kiss on my clit. Chills crept over my stomach as he continued to tease me, hitting it softly with his nose, moving it from side to side along it.

I heard myself whine, my legs squirming as he moved to tighten his grip on my hips, keeping me in place. He was making me feel frustrated, more than I already was feeling, "Harry, please..."

"Please what, baby D, you never had a problem with words. Why now?" He said against my cunt, his warm breath making my thigh clench.

"I need your face between my legs, please." I begged, completely whiny, completely about to lose my mind.

"It's already between your legs, you have to be more specific. I'm an idiot, remember?" He cooed, his fingers digging further into my hips, his nose dragging a bit of arousal up my stomach.

"Tell me how good cherry vanilla tastes, H. Remind yourself how good it tastes," I moaned out, shoving his face back against my cunt. I could feel the smile on his lips as he began lapping at my wet center. His tongue pushing flat against my middle, curling in a manner that shouldn't be allowed by any human being. He sucked on my swollen clit, creating a fountain of curse words from me as he did.

"Fu-uck, Harry, god..." I moaned, my fingers tangling into his hair, pulling at the roots causing him to groan against me.

Harry's POV

I was in fucking heaven, I felt like i was literally in the act of physically fucking heaven. She tasted so sweet on my tongue, her juices covering my chin as they dripped down her cunt that desperately wanted me. I pulled back, licking my lips as I looked up at her, her face a lovely shade of red that I had never seen on her cheeks. I took my hand, slowly moving a finger inside of her, feeling her walls pulse against them, my prick hard at the idea of her cunt squeezing itself around it in the same manner. I curled my finger forward, my digits searching for her soft center, her soft pleasure point that I knew I found by her delicious mewls. She was so whiny and needy and I couldn't get enough.

Biting at her inner thighs as I slipped in another digit, curling them more and more as I pulled them in and out of her, "Imagine taking my cock with that cunt, you take my fingers so well, I can't imagine you wrapped around me, fuck, D."

I slipped another finger in, three fingers fucking her as she palmed at her own breast, twisting her nipples and adding to her own pleasure. I knew she wasn't shy, I knew how sexual my best friend could be, but it had never been for me.

"Harry...I am so close...please don–dont, fuck yes...," she cried out, her legs starting to tremble, my lips quickly adding suction to her clit, helping her get where she wanted quicker. Her hand hit the side of the boat, gripping at the tarp as she came, her juices spilling out for me, giving me my last meal of the year. I pulled my fingers out of her, licking at her opening, pushing my tongue in and lapping up everything she gave. Her legs lazily relaxed around me, I pushed up her body, kissing along the scars from past incidents that told her own story. That made her my Goldie.

"Open, baby D, lemme show you how good you taste," I said, pressing my fingers to her lower lip as she opened her mouth; my three fingers slipped in, pushing down on her tongue, a soft gag coming from her before, my lips kissing along her jaw, "Mmm, fucking good girl."

I dragged my fingers out of her mouth, down her neck, choking her softly, "Tell me what you want now, it's all about you tonight, only you."

"Fuck me," she gasped.

"Mmm, I don't know if you really want it..." I teased, my hand moving to my cock, slowly fucking my fist as I watched her squirm under my hold.

"Fuck your love into me, Harry Styles. Fuck me so good I can't stop confessing my love to you. Please. Please, for your good girl," she said, so sweetly and whiny it was so dirty. I positioned both her legs on my shoulders, lining myself up and slipping inside her, bottoming out, her nails digging into my bare back, dragging down as I held my position, not moving, not giving her anything other than the feeling of being completely filled by me. Her head knocked back, a gasp escaped her that never seemed to return.

She pulled my face down to hers as it tossed forward, whimpering against our kiss, her chest heavy with her breath as I slowly pulled out, pushing all the way in again, "God you take me so...fucking...good," I gasped with each thrust, she was squeezing me so well. I placed my hands on either side of her, using them as leverage to lift higher, her legs wrapping around me letting me know I was hitting her G spot. Knowing I wasn't missing it, not even once.

She broke the kiss, clinging onto me and kissing my neck, biting at my skin, moaning into it as I found my face, her walls fluttering around me. She was milking me for everything I was worthy and I didn't know how I hadn't seen her bright light sooner. How I didn't realize how my Goldie was just that, mine.

I pushed up and away from her, locking eyes with her pretty brown eyes, smiling as I took in her beauty, her sweetness, the sly smile appearing on her face. I slowed my strokes, carefully moving her legs off my shoulders, I wanted to be close to her, I wanted to press into her. I lowered my body, placing my arms on either side of her head.

"I love you, my Goldie girl. My baby D. You feel that, feel how much I love you?" I said with each thrust, my left arm moving down over her shoulder, down to her breast, cupping it, kneading it, twisting at her perfectly perked up nipple.

She moaned, nodding softly, her hands traveling over my body, "I do, H. God, i love you." She leaned forward, pulling my cross pendant into her mouth, wrapping it around her tongue, before releasing it, "She touched that. But it's mine, just like you, mine."

She moaned out as her hips swiveled up into me, our thrusts meeting each other blissfully. Her walls fluttered around me, letting me know how close she was.

"I am, all yours baby, fuck, all yours," I groaned, kissing her messily, my tongue rubbing along the roof of her mouth.

"Claim me, Harry. Fill me full of you. God I wanna feel you dripping out of me, H," she whined, my hips bucking quicker. I felt the tingle build in my lower spine, my legs beginning to lose their stability, a groan building in my chest.

"Yeah, full of me, D? Is that what you would think about? Me feeling you full?" I said, my eyes hard on hers, her head nodding quickly.

"Please, H, god I need it, please," she begged. She was so damn sexy when she begged, "Ha-Harry imma, oh go-od..."

I kissed her again, thrusting as I felt her walls tighten around me, her sweet arousal covering me completely, dripping down both of us, "Fuck baby, yes.." I moaned, bottoming out as I filled her up, shooting ropes of my mess inside of her.

She whined at the feeling, whimpering and taking hold of my ass, pushing me further in her. I chuckled, pressing a kiss into her forehead, "Are you trying to seal the deal baby? Trying to keep me around?"

"Mmm, daddy Styles has a ring to it," she giggled, shuddering softly. I chuckled, catching my breath and kissing her forehead again, then her nose.

"Come with me?" I whispered.

"I already did," she giggled and I laughed, pressing a kiss into her lips. I pulled out slowly, kissing my way down her body, licking at her nipples, down her stomach. I reached her cunt, lapping up the delicious mixture of her and I, cleaning along her thighs.

"No, Goldie," I kissed her cunt, moving back up to her mouth, kissing her, letting her taste us together, "Come with me to London. I can't be without you. Not anymore."

"H..." she started and I kissed her again, deeply, meaning every bit of it.

"Just think about it."

"Okay."

[uzumaki-rebellion]

"Up early that morning, Spy Boy ready

I got my machete, Ooh na nae

What they say? We on our way

Downtown Indian, Uptown Indian

West Bank Indian, Back o'town Indian

Lord I'm pretty, my Big Chief Pretty

My whole gang pretty, we the best in the city"

Shotgun Slim – "Injunz Comin'"

The soft patter of rain woke Celeste up.

She hadn't been asleep for long. The darkness outside hadn't lightened up enough to herald the coming of dawn and she guessed it was only a little after two a.m., maybe close to three. Terry slept beside her quietly, his right arm thrown over her waist. She untangled herself and tiptoed into the kitchen to drink water. Dehydration caught up to her after the third vigorous sexual union of the day with Terry. The aches and pains of lovemaking wore out her back, neck, and inner thighs with a dull soreness. She did much better this time around, better than their first time together the night before.

The man had kinks. Spanking. Biting. Rope binding using the red satin Shibari rope she'd bought for her fetish content. She rubbed her wrists from the indentation marks the rope made. They spent all day Monday making love, smoking weed, talking, munching cookies, and napping in between. She had eaten no real food for over twenty hours, and now she was hungry and thirsty.

She feasted on the leftover food Terry didn't eat from Durand's and then stretched her legs to get them used to walking again since they lived in her bed for nearly two days. Nicotine cravings called to her, and she straggled into the living room to find a pack of smokes. She lit up and inhaled, blowing a smoke ring out toward her French doors.

The fuck?

She froze, staring at her curtains.

The shadow of someone standing in her backyard shocked her, even more so when it looked like the profile of Terry…naked. She gasped, and the figure turned to face her…started floating toward the double doors. The lingering effects of the weed in her system had her doubting reality.

"Why are you up?"

"Jesus!"

Celeste jumped out of her skin when she heard Terry's voice. He slid his hand around her waist.

"Don't scare me like that!"

"I wasn't tryna scare you, just wondered where you went. I woke up, and you were gone," he said.

"Do you see…"

The shadowy figure disappeared.

"What?" Terry asked.

"There was someone standing out there."

Terry moved her behind him and strode toward the double doors naked. He pulled one curtain aside.

"I don't see anyone, Celeste."

He unlocked one door and stepped out. Her motion sensor light came on bright, illuminating the yard. She walked behind him and avoided stepping outside. A light drizzle of rain fell on him.

"We're naked…get back in here!" she said, pulling on his arm.

"Give me a minute," he said.

Terry inspected the area thoroughly and walked back inside, locking the door behind him. His damp body trickled in water on the hardwood floor.

"It was probably a cat or a possum," he said.

"Shaped like a man?"

"There's nothing and no one out there."

She peeked out of the glass. Perhaps it had been an elongated shadow from a tree. The floodlights would've come on if someone was there and they didn't for the first time. Not until Terry went out and activated the motion sensors.

She let it go and snuffed out the cigarette.

"Come back to bed," he said.

A devilish twinkle in his eye signaled he was feeling horny again.

"No more sex. We need to rest and save our energy for tomorrow."

Terry pouted, pushing out his lips that she loved to ride on and kiss. She hugged him around the neck, enjoying his warm, wet body touching her.

"You can pout all you want mister, but we're done for the night."

He spanked her right butt cheek and lifted her off of her feet, carrying her back to the bedroom. She rested her head on his chest once they settled in for the night.

How long would this last?

After Tuesday, he'd probably head back to see Miss Irma before going back to where he came from, which was about a five-hour drive away. A long distance relationship wasn't something she envisioned for herself.

She watched him sleep.

He reminded her of a handsome prince in a deep slumber waiting to be kissed and awakened from a spell like some fairy tale. She loved the wideness of his nose and how it matched the proportion of his soft lips. She loved how his ears stuck out, giving him a jovial, big kid look when he smiled.

His body took up most of her double bed and she thought about ordering a king-sized bed to accommodate him better. Would a king-size mattress even fit in her bedroom? That thought jolted her. Was she seriously contemplating new furniture for a man she just met?

"My God tuh-day," she mumbled.

The absurdity ruffled her feathers. In the sobering reality, after all the mind-blowing sex, Celeste wanted to put a lid on any thoughts of a future. Every time she felt a way about a man and started making plans and setting boundaries, nothing came to fruition, and she always ended up with heartbreak or bitterness. She resolved to keep it cool with Terry. This was fuck buddy fun. Plain and simple.

But look at that face!

The thick eyebrows and heavy lashes softened the sculptured forehead and chin. His goatee gave him a dashing look of a rogue, and it matched his energy in bed. She ain't never had a man talk her through so many orgasms. When she rode him like the pony express, bouncing so hard that her cheeks clapped against his thighs with the power of cymbals crashing, she was already planning long luxurious vacations with him to exotic resorts on the other side of the world. All because his voice sounded like it came from the top of a mountain heralding the coming of the Lord.

His dick was a magic stick that had her talking in tongues in the key of brreb-bababy-ah-ashantay by the time they finished their last entanglement. Was it crack? Did this negro have crack in his penis? Cuz babygirl was definitely hooked.  Even with a condom on, that dick still had her spellbound, satisfied, and doing full splits on it like she was Simone Biles.

Sleep finally overtook her disjointed thoughts, and she slumbered through eight restful hours. She woke up on a sunny Fat Tuesday morning grinning, smelling the odor of cooking that she wasn't doing coming from her kitchen. Wearing the afterglow of heavenly lovemaking, she threw on a robe and sauntered into where Terry stood at her stove sprinkling grated cheddar cheese inside an omelet. He'd already taken a shower before she got up. With only a dark blue towel draped around his waist, he looked like a tawny Greek Adonis.

"Morning. Did you sleep well, beautiful?"

Butterfly wings fluttered in her belly every time he called her beautiful. He always showered her with pet names and compliments. If he was bread crumbing her for more sex, she was falling for it. She was a sucker for love bombing and all the fortitude she built up before she fell asleep yesterday went out the window. She hugged him from behind.

"I slept like a lazy cat."

"Listen, I have to run back to my B&B to get fresh fits. What time do we have to roll to see your grandfather?"

"Big Chief will be outside before nine."

"I'll go get dressed and we can ride over in my truck."

"Okay."

"Sit, I'll fix you a plate and then I'll bounce."

Celeste propped herself in her kitchen chair and ogled Terry's backside wrapped in the towel. So taut. Round the way she liked it. The muscles in his back flexed and her gaze followed down his spine to where the towel hung on his tapered waist. The gods of body blessings built him to perfection. She rested her cheek on her hand and studied everything on that man. He folded the omelet over and slid it onto a plate of fried alligator sausages.

"There you go," he said, serving her the plate.

She puckered her lips, and he kissed her.

"Thank you, sir…wait, you're not joining me?"

He placed a mug of fresh coffee on the table next to her fork.

"I ate while you were still snoozing, so I could get outta here on time. Be back before you know it. Enjoy breakfast."

He left her in the kitchen and she didn't like watching his wide back move away from her. Digging into the omelet, she was delighted to find he cooked onions and diced tomatoes in it, too. The hot and spicy sausage woke her up completely, and she took a moment to sip the coffee and glance out of the kitchen window, grateful no rain would hamper the day.

She enjoyed a long shower and rubbed her body down with jasmine and honey blossom lotion. Slipping on comfortable underwear, she worked on her make-up and face-painting first, choosing an avant-garde style that mimicked Mardi Gras colors with a West African geometric flair, turning half her face into living art. The other half she glued a partial green carnival mask that had three slender purple feathers sticking out from it like a hand fan. She pulled her carnival outfit from the closet in her sewing room and checked for any last-minute re-stitching she needed to do. Celeste had painstakingly decorated the purple and yellow keyhole halter top with sewn-in cowrie shells she hand-painted a shiny, metallic gold. A pair of sequined gold shorts she bought online rounded off the ensemble and had her booty sitting up. She'd added Mardi Gras beads on the sides of the shorts to make her shimmies and shuffles on the streets extra dramatic. Reaching behind her neck, she untied her black satin hair wrap and released her locs. The last task was to pick footwear to run the streets in. She had a nice pair of neon yellow sprinting shoes she used for track in highschool, but there was also a cool pair of green Chucks. Choosing the sprinting shoes that were less bulky, she laced up and threw a crossbody sling bag across her shoulders, stuffing her cell phone, keys and cigarettes inside. Digging in her nightstand, she tossed a couple of joints in the bag, too. It was Fat Tuesday, after all. She could repent on Ash Wednesday at St. Augustine Church.

Street food would be in abundance, and every corner would have someone selling quarter waters. She waited in her living room for Terry and checked on text messages from friends wanting to gossip about the pretty man she unabashedly kept locked in her bed. All of her girlfriends were happy that she was safe. Nae Nae sent eggplant emojis, and Joyce sent water splashes and yellow smiley faces with tongues out looking like they were sweating.

A knock at the door sprung her into action. She grabbed her tambourine, swung the door open and twirled.

"How do I look?"

The man at the door wasn't Terry.

"You look like you're ready to show out. How ya doin', Duchess?"

Freddie grinned like a cat with the canary caught between his gums. His silky mahogany skin gleamed in the sunlight and so did his tangerine carnival suit with the Money Wasters Social & Pleasure Club sash slung across his chest. From the tangerine gators on his feet to the matching fedora on his head, Celeste's ex looked elegant and much better-looking since the last time she ran into him. Of course, she was cursing him out of his name at the time after receiving a break-up text in the middle of Sunday Mass.

"Why are you here? Who gave you my address?"

"Calm down now, gal. Your Mama said you were still doing poorly, and I just wanted to check on you. Us not being together doesn't mean I don't still care about you. I figure carnival morning is a good day to see ya."

"You seen me, now bye."

"Don't be like that, Celeste. Let the past be the past...today is Mardi Gras, a little buck jumping and celebrating is good for everybody's soul."

Celeste's stomach churned at the sight of him. She didn't need any turmoil today. Music blasted from various corners of her street, kicking off the bright festive mood she wanted to indulge in. Freddie leaned toward her.

"Listen, Duchess, men make mistakes. They do! Don't roll your eyes at me. They fuck up and grow from it. Six months ago, we weren't in a good place, and instead of acting like a grown man, I acted like a boy and hurt you. I wasn't ready to commit to anything or take on the responsibility of marriage."

"But you were willing to play house with me, enjoying all the benefits of a marriage without the strings? Is that how that works? See, that was partially my fault for letting it go on so long because I actually thought there was a chance you would step up and show me we were a team."

"C'mon now, you were pressuring me all the time."

"Asking where you saw us in the next five years was pressure?"

"Duchess—"

"No. We aren't doing this. If this is your way of spinning the block, you can keep on driving partna. I gave you so many chances to prove your worth, but you chose to move on without me in the bed of another woman. Go fuck that bitch…better yet, fuck all the bitches you want, because I'm done with your lame excuses. You were mad that I asked you to put up or shut up, so now deal with the consequences of your actions."

She wagged a finger in his face.

"You had a good one, Freddie, and you blew it."

"Baby, I hurt you bad…I know. I want to make amends. That's why I came here today. However long it takes to wait out the hate you have for me right now, I will do it."

A deep rumble shook the streets as a late-model gray Chevy Silverado truck pulled up behind her car. The heavy bass made her windows rattle, and she grinned so hard that Freddie jerked his head around to see what caused all the showing of teeth.

Terry stepped out of the truck sporting a Mardi Gras-themed graphic T-shirt and custom oyster-gray joggers. She noticed his walking shoes were Kuru athletic slip-ons that looked comfortable as hell.

She exhaled so loud looking at Terry that Freddie sucked his teeth.

"You good, baby?" Terry asked, his gaze locked on Freddie as he spoke.

"Ready to go. Give me a second to lock up," she said, pulling out her keys.

Terry leaned against the passenger door of his truck and waited for her. Freddie followed her down the four steps of her stoop.

"Hey…how you doing, man?" Freddie said.

Freddie held out his hand and Terry shook it, his face neutral, but not mean-mugging. However, his eyes were icy daggers. Celeste took pleasure in the height difference of the two men. Freddie had to look up at Terry's face like she did.

"Nice suit," Terry said, looking over Freddie's sartorial finery.

"Well ya know, gotta show out tuhday," Freddie said.

"I hear you. Best day of the year," Terry said.

"Better than Christmas!"

Freddie laughed, and it irked her nerves.

Terry stared at Freddie and the cool silence he gave unnerved her ex. Celeste found it delicious and didn't jump in to make introductions or anything, just let Freddie stand there with an awkward grin stewing on his face.

"Well, guess I betta head out. Y'all have fun now," Freddie said.

"Lose my address," Celeste called to him.

Freddie walked around his white Audi and grumbled something under his breath. He drove off and Celeste groaned her annoyance.

"I swear, when I see my mama, she's going to get a piece of my mind."

"She told him to come here?"

"She gave him my address. I've been living here six months in peace, and now he knows where I live."

"Is that a problem?"

Terry's voice hinted at concern. She threaded her fingers with his.

"He's not a stalker. I think he planned to use this day for a chance at reconciliation, and it backfired with you here."

"Tail between the legs, huh?"

"Yep."

She glanced at his truck.

"Are you open to walking over to my grandparent's house? It's about a thirty-minute stroll. It'll warm up our legs for partying," she said.

"Lead the way."

Celeste tapped her tambourine and pranced in front of him like the Pied Piper, shaking her ass to the music bubbling up from the streets. Tons of people were already walking about, celebrating and greeting strangers and friends with smiles and excited shouts. Being with Terry enabled Celeste to see the carnival life through his eyes. It awakened a new appreciation for her culture and her people. There was always a second line every week because of funerals, social club events, or convention parties and she tended to overlook how unique it was as a local. But with Terry...it became brand new and magical.

They arrived in front of her grandparents' old white double shotgun house amongst a growing audience of paraders. The right side was where her grandparents stayed, and the left side belonged to her aunt and uncle. The narrow street teemed with family and spectators waiting for the Big Chief to come outside. Celeste introduced Terry to her cousins, and gave a proper introduction to all of her girlfriends who patiently waited to see what type of suit Big Chief had sewn all year.

Joyce and Avis welcomed Terry into their fold, unlike Nae Nae and Mercy, who remained reserved a lot longer knowing Celeste stayed in a tender place emotionally after Freddie left her. Hoots and shrieks from the left side of the street roused the throng of bodies packed around them. The ninth ward Headhunter Tribe resplendent in gold and navy blue feathers, stomped and called out for Big Chief to show himself. Other spirited shouts on the right brought forth the Uptown Indians, those from the West Bank and Back o' Town. Celeste counted five tribes in their colorful regalia waiting for her grandfather to show himself on a fine Mardi Gras morning. Terry's eyes looked thrilled to be in the middle of all the pageantry and people. She linked her arm in his, happy to have him by her side.

The front door opened on the right side.

"Here come my Big Chief!" Celeste shouted.

She ululated, and other Treme women joined her in the galvanizing sound. It ricocheted among the squawks and whoops of Black men dressed in enormous headpieces and extravagant works of folk art. With her girlfriends, who waved handkerchiefs, Celeste led the singing of a stirring rendition of "Indian Red" as her Big Chief slowly walked outside in the majestic colors of magenta and royal purple. Celeste let out a long breath of anxious air. Big Chief didn't wear all white. He was going to stay in the game for one more year.

She couldn't hold back the tears and thanked God she spent money on water-proof face paint and kept a handkerchief ready. She dabbed at her eyes, even through the partial mask on her face. Her Uncle Claude, the Second Chief, and Man-Man their Flag Boy helped Big Chief place his crown on his head. A sea of smartphones went up, everyone wanting a picture of one of the oldest Indians alive still masking. Celeste had her phone out too, snapping away from every angle. The low raspy pitch of a tuba sounded off, and soon a full on brass band Treme anthem kicked off the march around the neighborhood.

Celeste squeezed through bodies with her hand clasped around Terry's wrist. She kissed Big Chief's cheek and took a selfie with him. Big Chief squinted at Terry with curious brown eyes.

"Who your people is, young man?" Big Chief asked in his scratchy tone.

"They not from around here, sir. I'm from up north, not too far from Shelby Springs," Terry said.

"A big country boy, huh?"

"Yes, sir."

Big Chief tilted his head, but Terry stepped back to make room for Grand-mère and other tribal members wanting more pictures before her grandfather took off down the street. Bursting with pride, Celeste danced and rattled the jingles on her tambourine.

The streets crackled with high-spirited life and they merged onto other streets, taking careful consideration of Big Chief's energy level throughout the day. They arrived at the I-10 underpass and joined up with a mass of people marching and dancing.

"I like this type of carrying on better than the big parade on canal street," Terry said.

He maintained a bounce in his step, impressing Celeste with his skillful dancing despite his size. Terry shook his hips and tried to move his feet like her. He kept a smile on her face all day and eventually Nae Nae and Mercy warmed up to him after seeing how happy she acted with him.

She pointed out the parasols, baskets, and ostentatious fans she made, snapping photos with her phone and stopping to buy water along the back street route. So many white people mingled among them. Even they knew where the genuine party was at.

"She cutting up now!" a reveler called out.

Mercy started staggering her steps and shuffling to the music as second-line horns blared and coaxed everyone to shake their moneymaker. Celeste jumped right next to her, strutting in the middle of the street. Mercy held her parasol high above her head as she hyped Celeste up.

"Get it Duchess! Work it!"

Avis and Joyce kept yelling, "Aye! Aye! Aye!" every time she dropped low to the ground. Her cousin Micah recorded her on his phone, and hot stepped with the rest.

The onlookers snapped photos and taped Celeste cutting loose like it was the last day of her life on earth. It helped that her shorts let her backside bounce in time to the music and she jumped around shaking her tambourine, moving her feet like they were on fire. Mercy worked the street with her, showing off uptown footwork, but Celeste showed the crowd how the downtown really got down. She bounced and kept her knees bucking up high, spinning and dipping, matching Mercy's high energy and showmanship, keeping her steps syncopated with the tuba, drum, and other horns. Onlookers moved closer to videotape them. Avis took Celeste's tambourine to help keep a hot percussive beat going with her steps.

From the corner of her eye, she caught the Moneywasters Social and Pleasure Club prancing in step, rounding the corner. Freddie was front and center, and he noticed her right away and she really started turning up.

Celeste put her hands on the ground and alternated lifting each foot up with the beat of a cowbell and the whistles being blown. She jumped back up knowing Freddie locked in on her and started wiggling her backside and moving backward by the power of her ass, gyrating until she broke it down further by doing her well-known sexy model catwalk. She strutted and bounced at the same time, moving to the left of the street, and then back to the right. She hopped and twisted her hips around until she surrendered to the moment, her body simply a conduit for whatever African spirit wanted to experience a little bons temps rouler. Her friends were right there with her, dancing and moving their feet fast.

"Yeah, you right!" Nae Nae yelled at her.

"You wild, Duchess!" Joyce shouted.

Celeste dipped around Freddie, and her ex shook a feathered fan at her, dancing his way closer. She dropped her hands on her knees, tooted her backside, and let her hips wind, enticing plenty of people to catcall and whistle at her. The soft crush of Terry's crotch rubbed up against her ass, pleasing the cheering crowd. He blatantly cock blocked Freddie from grinding on her. Celeste marveled at how sensually Terry moved on her. That big dick print of his felt nice between her cheeks. He laced his fingers with hers, and they kept their arms up in the air together, dancing to the raucous beat in total sync, moving along with the sea of exuberant faces flowing toward another street intersection.

At a crossroads, two other tribes faced off on a street corner, singing chants and challenges about who sewed the prettiest suits. Big Chief's singing voice carried over the hundreds of heads near Celeste. It soared across the hundreds more behind them. The Wild Treme's Spyboy stopped and hollered a boastful rhyme about the prettiest chief around. She kept a smug look on her face as no other tribal suit could rival the skills of her grandfather. Her cousin Angie preened in a gorgeous tribal suit, representing the queen of their tribe with grace standing next to Big Chief.

By late afternoon, Avis passed around a flask filled with spiced dark rum and they shared oyster po'boy sandwiches from a middle-aged Korean man who set up shop on the corner of Treme and Governor Nicholls street. She finally witnessed Terry eating something when he took a few bites from her sandwich. All around them, people walked, danced, and shuffled along, following whatever tribes they could catch sight of.

"That's my church," she said to him.

Across the street was St. Augustine church. Since Hurricane Ida, the main sanctuary had closed for roof repairs. Celeste and other parishioners held Mass in the Parish Hall for the time being. She pulled Terry over to see a special part of her church, pointing out a giant rusting iron cross made of giant chain locks sitting on the ground and tilted on its side, marking the hallowed ground of the unknown slave. Several medieval-looking metal shackles hung from the body of the cross.

Terry stood a respectful distance from it. His once joyous emerald eyes dulled in solemn reverence.

"Avis, may I see your flask for a minute?" he asked.

They all thought he wanted a sip, but he stooped down to one knee, unscrewed the cap and poured out some rum. Celeste crossed her arms in front of her midsection. Her friends watched him from the side.

"Awhile back, they started finding so many unmarked slave graves that our church wanted to remind everyone about it. I was a little girl when Father LeDoux, our old priest, and the parishioners placed it here. It honors all the enslaved lost to us."

"It's a holy place," Terry said.

His voice was so soft and trembled with emotion. Celeste ran a gentle hand across his scalp and plucked a cowrie shell from her costume and placed it on top of the spot where Terry soaked the ground with rum.

"Father LeDoux passed on five years ago. But he left us this memorial to cherish."

"Sister Celeste, I thought that was you."

Father Mbenga, the new priest recently assigned to St. Augustine, pushed his glasses up on his nose and gave her a warm smile.

"Father Mbenga," Celeste said.

Her friends slipped away across the street, avoiding any church talk while they were tipsy, leaving her alone with Terry.

"I will see you tomorrow in the Parish Hall no doubt?"

"I'll be here."

Terry rose to his feet and wiped his hands. He held Avis's flask behind his back.

"Father, this is my friend Terry. He's visiting from out of town."

Father Mbenga held out his hand. Terry was hesitant at first, but he offered his free hand.

"Young man, you are very welcome to attend Mass. We have a wonderful Ash Wednesday service and newcomers always have a church home here."

Terry nodded and gave a weak smile, humoring the man.

"Don't let me hold up all your fun. I wanted to say hello since I heard your voice."

Celeste tugged on Terry's arm and pulled him away.

"You don't have to go with me tomorrow."

"He invited me. I'll go with you."

She grinned, happy that he wanted to stay longer with her.

"Don't you have to see Miss Irma tomorrow, too?"

"I'll see her. Thinking about staying a little longer."

"Yeah?"

Celeste's cheeks nearly touched the sky with happiness.

"You not tired of me yet?" he asked.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and rubbed her nose against his.

"Not yet," she whispered.

He lowered his lips and kissed her out in the open. After the sweet moment, she pointed out parts of the church building, especially the refurbished bell on top of the belfry, and proudly bragged that it was the first Black Catholic Church in the country.

"You love this church, don't you?" he said.

"I sure do. We're hoping the main sanctuary will open back up in the fall. I can't wait. So many memories here. Weddings. Christenings. My confirmation. It's been standing here since 1841. Hurricanes still can't knock it down. In a couple of decades, it'll be 200 years old. Imagine being around for that long, huh?"

Terry glanced at her, and a weird expression washed over his face. It passed quickly, and he held her hand tight.

They rejoined her friends to mingle and drink until the sun lowered. The Quarter jumped and so did they, bar hopping all night. Celeste knew it was time to pack it in when Terry kept rubbing on her booty and nibbling her ear, whispering nasty things that warmed her face up. He exuded so much charisma that people stepped out of their way wherever they went just to watch him pass by. Even she fawned over him, feeling like she had won the lottery with such an attentive man.

Doubt crept into her mind as they interacted with people and the liquor in her system marinated on her brain. Other women flirted with him when they thought she wasn't looking, and an uncomfortable and familiar sensation pestered her. Insecurity. He was a complete stranger blowing through the city. There might be an entire complicated life hidden away somewhere, with women and kids involved. Once, while they were in bed listening to music and sharing random thoughts about life, she asked Terry if he had any social media. He said he didn't like being online. She let it go. Watching him move confidently through the party atmosphere and drunken revelry, she didn't want to trust anything shining like gold that fell into her lap easily. There might be a lump of coal in the middle of it. Freddie had been charming and attentive, too. He'd said all the right things. Gave her good sex. Women had flirted with Freddie when they were out, but this thing she witnessed with Terry was different. He caught the attention of everyone. Men and women. Queer, straight, and everything else there was to be in the world. Every color, creed, and nationality folded when he was near.

Celeste's insecurities got the better of her and she reasoned that their union couldn't last. Men that fine knew it and used it to their advantage. The sooner she conceded to that fact, the easier it would be when he left New Orleans. Whatever fantasy she made up in her head lying in bed with him had to go. Her first step would be to stop sleeping with Terry. She would let him return to his B&B and give her pussy a rest.

Eventually, the time came to say goodnight to her friends. Terry insisted on walking Joyce back to her car to make sure they all got there safely. She had parked in a gated and fenced hotel lot for a fee. They exchanged hugs and kisses with sloppy drunk goodbyes. Joyce had stopped drinking once they hit the Quarter, and she was good to drive back uptown. Celeste and Terry stumbled on a circuitous route back to his B&B . She was determined to drop the magic stick off at his spot and walk home alone to sober up. The further away they moved from the major action of the Quarter, the fewer people they ran into. Even the sound of music dwindled until they arrived at an eclectic little neighborhood B&B with two courtyards and lots of cool roof statues on top of the three little bedroom cottages, two bungalows, and a carriage house. A large Batman figure overlooked the street, along with funny-looking owls with googly eyes, and a couple of squat yellow minions from the animated movie "Despicable Me". Celeste pulled out her phone to snap some pictures of the roofs.

"We should've walked to your place first to get my truck," he said.

"We can still walk over there for you to get it and come back here. I'm just three blocks down, remember?" she said.

"Or you can spend the night here with me and enjoy these silly roof statues?"

She smirked. Nope. She wasn't going to fall for it. Her buzz still had her floating, but she wouldn't be a sucker for some dick.

"What statue do you have on your roof?"

He thought about it for a second.

"I have a courtyard room, and I think it's some anime character. I don't know. They all have a movie theme. Let me run in here and grab a jacket for you and I'll walk you home."

"I'm close by. I can live without a jacket."

"You're shivering…been shivering the last fifteen minutes we were walking. I'm getting you a jacket. C'mon."

He clasped her hand. She pulled away.

"I'll wait here. I have to go to church at eight-thirty and I'm not falling for any tricks to keep me in bed all day."

Terry slapped her butt and walked onto the property. Celeste took another photo of an inflatable green dragon with cartoon eyes and Mardi Gras beads strung around its neck. She ended up taking another picture of it since the first one came out blurry. The flash revealed a statue hidden behind the twisting tail of the dragon. An ornate, yet grotesque looking gargoyle appeared stuck on the slope of the roof. Its three-foot wide stone body showed ornate wings curled into a ball, shielding it from the glare of decorative white string lights hung around the eaves. It blended in perfectly with the roof's russet coloring. She might've missed it if the dragon picture hadn't been so bad. Slanted stone eyes looked down toward the street in a menacing way.

"Ugly little thing," Mercy said under her breath. "Don't even match the aesthetic."

Terry returned and draped a heavy jacket around her shoulders. Celeste bounced as she walked to the strained sounds of music coming from a house several blocks away.

"Today was so much fun," she said.

"I had a good time."

"I promised you would."

"You made it ten times better."

Celeste sang some fun chants for him and once she stood back on her stoop, she pulled the jacket off her shoulders. Handing it to him, she kept her back toward the front door.

"Call me and I'll pick you up in the morning," he said.

"Just come by at eight. I'll be ready."

He climbed the first step and kissed her forehead.

"Rest well," he said.

She watched him climb into his truck and drive away, feeling proud that she had willpower. Regardless, her limbs were exhausted. There was no way to enjoy him bending her like a pretzel again with sore joints.

"Oh, thank you Jesus," she said out loud to the stars and the moon in the sky.

Grateful for a joy-filled day, she entered her home and took a long, hot shower.

Toweling her hair in the living room, she reached for a joint inside the crossbody bag and turned on the TV. Tucking her locs under her satin hair scarf, she caught up on the news segments showing the celebrations all throughout the city and smoked. She flipped through channels and paused on a late night news broadcast because of two faces highlighted on the screen. The two white guys from the Quarter that tried to lure her away from her friends.

Carl and Jacob.

She turned the volume up and learned that they were missing since the night she met them. Despite authorities finding their rental car abandoned near Lake Pontchartrain with no signs of foul play, their family insisted that harm had come to them.

Celeste sat on her sectional recliner, reeling from the story. Had those men convinced her to party with them, she might've ended up missing too. It creeped her out that she may have been one of the last few people to see them before they vanished. Terry, as well.

She turned off the TV and finished smoking her joint, letting it relax the anxiety fighting to control her thinking about Carl and Jacob. In the dark, she rested on her recliner, too lazy to walk to her bedroom. Shifting onto her side, she glanced at her French doors and bolted upright.

That shadowy figure was back. She could see its curved shape behind the curtains. Grabbing a long rain stick she had lying against the wall, she unlocked the doors and ran out to knock whoever it was upside the head. Her motion sensor lights came on and she swung the rain stick wildly about, hoping to strike down the intruder.

A breeze rustled the leaves of her neighbors tree and the flood lights cut out since she wasn't moving anymore. Celeste noticed the shadow of the tree branches moving across her nightgown and doors. That's all it was. The damn tree.

Nothing was out there. Just like the previous night when Terry checked her yard.

She walked back into her cottage, locked the doors and kept the rain stick next to the bed. The weed allowed her to drift on a magic carpet ride of untroubled sleep.

"No more weed," she whispered to herself.

Chapter 8 HERE.

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