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keresnotceres · 2 years ago

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Good, Good, Great

Ghost x Fem!Reader (And they were roommates)!

[nsfw] cw(s): Jealousy, alcohol consumption, references to smoking, strip club, rdr calls ghost ‘big boy’ several times, suggestive content, non-explicit sex (it’s mentioned), rdr is highkey a brat lol, mention of dumbification.

PART TWO

3.4k words I don’t understand how UK currency works so i guessed, ALSO! Reader is kind of a slut!! Because we don’t get enough readers that have BEEN AROUND TOWN (iykwim) and I am hellbent on fixing that :) ALSO ALSO this kinda sucks and it’s prolly OOC but I spent like four days on it so here u go <33

You’re not dating — but he’s not keen on sharing. He sees you serving another table drinks, scantily dressed, hips swaying with every step, and can’t help but watch with a glare as some other man sets a 20 between your tits.

How Laswell convinced both herself and Price that a strip club was the best place to meet and discuss information on a new mission was beyond Ghost. It wasn’t until two blocks away from the venue did he begin to recognize the surroundings, the streets, and damn it, even the people.

He forwent the skull mask and the skull-patterned balaclava for a plain black surgical mask that left him feeling bare and exposed. Only a thin piece of fabric was between him and his anonymity; two strings that held together the Ghost façade from falling into Simon.

He’d be damned if he told the others that he recognized the club — that he frequented it. Not for a certain stripper, no, not for the girls performing at all. He knew every staff member from the amount of times he’d come to pick you up after your serving shift.

You always smelled like alcohol and someone’s blueberry vape, sometimes weed; you claimed that just came with the job. He’d respond asking if he smelled like gunpowder and metal, if that was the case. He remembered how you shook your head.

“You smell like cigarettes and aftershave.”

He grimaces as they approach the shining lights of the club. Myth is a looming building; five floors, only two used for actual club affairs. The other three were offices or something equally as boring; even if you would prattle on about your outlandish suspicions of a mafia being run up there.

The first floor had the basics; a main stage that was across from the full bar, a plethora of sleek tables and uncomfortable leather chairs filling the space between the two attractions. On the far wall, a few booths with itchy velour couches separated by fake bushes. Doors sat on either side of the four booths, both led to some sort of VIP room that Ghost had never stepped foot in.

The second floor overlooked the stage section of the first, only the dancers could see the people decorating the steel railings. It was usually reserved for the rich people, the important men who had had wives and didn’t want to be seen in the public eye, the men who were desperate enough to pay extra to pretend they could get some, and the people staff liked. Ghost happens to fit into the latter category.

There was a second stage on the upper floor, it wasn’t often dancers were up there performing, they were usually lounging around with someone they knew would paid them well. The was a second, smaller bar which served the singular purpose of storing new bottles, which caused you to complain about having to go up and down the stairs every time you had to get another round for a table.

His constant presence had led to him “befriending” the bartenders (if getting a free drink counted as being friends) and getting half-hired as security (he was roughly the same size as the men they already had for the job), even the hostesses knew to assign him to your section each time he walked in.

It baffled him, to say the least. Even after he was gone for 11 months the one time, (what a god awful time that was), the Myth staff knew who he was.

Ghost didn’t even register Price trying to tell him to stop as he walked to the shiny glass doors of Myth. The thing that dragged him out of an absentminded state was Soap’s obnoxiously loud laughter, Ghost stopped dead in his tracks and spun around to face the rest of the task force.

“Yae walkin’ right in like ye own the place, eh, Lt?” He had a conniving grin on his face. “Didnae take you for that kinda guy.” Gaz looked like he was trying to picture Ghost in a club, Price only looked at him with mild amusement on his face.

Ghost glares at Soap, embarrassed. “I’m going where we were told to go.”

“Wasting no time, either.” Gaz manages to crack a smile from Price with his chide.

“Are we going in, or not?” Ghost’s eyebrows raise in questioning, his patience already running thin. He looked over his shoulder at the bouncer, who he wishes he didn’t recognize as Paul.

Gaz had already fished his ID out of his pockets, the graying white background of the Royal Air Force card reflecting the sign lights. Soap wasn’t far behind him, most people who see someone with a mohawk assume it’s a teenager who lost a bet. Anyone could look at the Captain and know he’s over the age of 18, no college student could rival the man’s facial hair.

And Ghost? All he had to do was look Paul in the eyes and he was let though without even a second glance. It was no different than if he were just coming in to pick you up, although it was considerably earlier than your usual 2 AM clock outs. Ghost forgot the club was even open at 5 PM.

He got an odd look from Soap at the lack of identification, but odd looks from Soap were a daily occurance.

The club looked the exact same as when he’d left 4 months ago, the same blue-purple lighting, same ugly silver bead curtains hanging over the walls, and the same Thursday night bartender. His name was something along the lines of Tony (Tim?); Ghost hadn’t particularly cared about him, he’s never at the club on Thursdays anyway. Your shifts are normally on the weekends, only the occasional Thursday if there was an event.

The hostess seems to be familiar, too. She’s either Camille or Angelica; he could never really remember who was who. The two have the same bleach blonde, blue eyes, and freckles; they’re practically the same person to Ghost. He really only pays attention to you when he’s at Myth.

The hostess stares at Ghost for a second, as if trying to recognize him. Before she could try to speak, Price cut in.

“We’re meeting someone here. Blonde hair, a little older.” His eyes scan the half-empty floor of the room. “She might be upstairs?”

The hostess perks up at the mention of a woman. “Right. Follow me, please.”

The blonde led the group of them upstairs, two of the 20 tables had people at them. Only one of them had a Laswell-looking woman at them. The other was a group of seven men; each in a suit, and each with a glass in their hand.

Once the hostess set a few menus on the table, she spoke a final time. “Your server will be right over.”

Ghost let the others sit down before him, eyes lingering on the group of men across from them before they slid over to Laswell. She looked as comfortable as any other person in a strip club by choice, lounging back in her chair with a cocktail in her hand.

“You look disgruntled,” she notes, eyes resting on Ghost.

“You had us meet in a strip club,” Ghost mutters. “This isn’t my usual scene.” It was quite the lie, really. He’s spent more time here than any other pub in the Manchester area at this point.

“It’s close to home.” She takes a sip of her drink, completely at peace. “And it’s unsuspecting. Who comes into a strip club to talk about top secret information?”

Ghost looks at her, unamused. “Us.”

Laswell ignores the distaste in his voice. “You don’t have to worry about that group,” her head tilts in the direction of the rowdy group of men. “They’re all drunk or too focused on the girls to even bother listening to us.”

The distant sound of heels against the floor catches his attention, his eyes fly towards the staircase. And there you are, flouncing up the stairs with three glasses in one hand and a bottle of Blue Label in the other.

You make your way to the group of men, a customer service smile plastered on your face. Ghost can’t hear your words, but he watches you set the bottle down in front of the most important-looking man, along with two of the glasses you were carrying.

He watches as your shoulders bounce when you laugh at something he says, though it looks like the fakest giggle you can muster.

He watches as the man takes a 20 pound note from his pocket and tucks it right between your tits. On instinct, Ghost’s hands tighten into fists and he glares. It’s a sharp glare, one he’d give to some idiot recruit that tried being cocky. You gasp, then smile brightly at the man, he can tell you’re saying thank you profusely from the way your mouth is moving.

You step away from the man and Ghost’s eyes fly from him to you, and his glare drops into a normal enough look, but his fists are still tight; his fingernails dig into the palms of his hands.

Ghost’s eyes roam your body, how the little black skirt you’re wearing rode up just enough that it would be considered a tease, how the black shirt you’re wearing is just a little too tight around your tits, and the 20 pound note that was stuck right between the two of them. He had to consciously unclench his fist before anyone would notice.

Then you come prancing over, hips swaying almost hypnotically as you walk, a glass of bourbon nestled in your hand.

You smile sweetly as you bend down in front of him, showing off both your tits and the note right between them, and set his glass on the table.

“I believe that’s for you, big boy.” Fuck, he missed hearing your voice, the nickname flies over his head through his stupor. Even if it was the faux, sultry version of it you used for work. “Can I get the rest of you anything? A beer? Whiskey?”

It was almost impossible for Ghost to tear his eyes away from you, rather, that damn note between your breasts. He wanted to pluck it out and throw it right back at the other man, replace it with something bigger, better.

When he notices Gaz’s disturbed stare, his eyes avert from you.

Gaz’s eyes trail from his to yours, “I’ll take a Manhattan.”

You smile at him, “of course, is Sazerzac okay?” Gaz nods shortly, glancing away from you to avoid Ghost’s stare. “Anyone else?” You pivot towards Price, shifting your weight from one leg to the other.

Price angles his head to meet your gaze, squinting through the LEDs of the club. “Gin and tonic,” his eyes don’t leave yours, “Hendrick’s.” An offhand comment from Soap entertains the liquor’s Scottish origins.

You nod along with his words, then tilt your head towards Soap. “Can I get you anything?”

“I’ll have a Coke.”

“I hope you mean the soda,” you muse. You didn’t get any reaction out of the group, not a single smile — how disappointing. “We have the cherry kind, if you’re into that.”

Soap shakes his head, a small frown on his face. “Just normal Coke’ll do.”

You hum absentmindedly, “alright.” Your eyes flicker to Ghost, the smile on your face contorts into a little mischievous one. “Are you going to be wanting the bottle, Simon?”

You really are a vixen, aren’t you? Through grit teeth, Ghost spits out, “no.”

“Alright, then. I’ll be back with those drinks, boys.” A single wink, and you were off. Low heels clacking against the tile floor, hips swaying side to side. Ghost was all too aware of every detail of your retreating body, from the way your hair bounced with each step you took, how the skirt you wore rode up just slightly enough to make his grip on his bourbon tighten.

Ghost fights the urge to get up, grab you by the waist, and pull you onto him. Both his experiences and his logical reasoning say it’s a terrible idea, yet the idea of reminding you who you ultimately belong to is so enticing he could be drooling.

He’s seen you cockdumb; it almost always comes after you pull a stunt like this. Of course, he knows you do it just for the sake of getting him bothered and getting fucked stupid. But he also likes the idea that you do it just for him. You put on a little show.

He finally put it together years ago. Back when you would bring over some pathetic-looking hookup just to see his reaction. When you’d fake moan loud enough for the whole damn neighborhood to hear, then look at him the next morning through your eyelashes all innocent.

At some point, the hookups ended, and you began flirting with customers right in front of him. Just like you had done a moment before.

When your head disappears from view, Soap is the first to attack him vocally, almost gawking after you. “You’re on a first name basis with the bottle girls at a strip club?” He looks incredulously at Ghost, almost jealous.

“Is that why you were in such a hurry to get inside? You knew this was where your flings worked?”

Soap leans in closer, “how often do you come here, LT?” It was question after question from the Scotsman, and despite his inclination towards him, Ghost was getting slowly more fed up.

Ghost set his glass down, “I’m going to the bathroom.” He put his hands to his knees and stood up from the plush seat, eyes scanning the other group one more time before he left his teammates at the table.

It doesn’t take long for him to find you, leaning up against the doorframe to the server’s closet while you wait for another cocktail server to put in a ticket, twiddling your coworker’s Elfbar in your hands until she reaches behind her for the vape.

You hand it off to her and turn to face Ghost, a catty smile adorning your lips. “How can I help you, sir?” Ghost stops a few inches before you and a hand darts towards your cleavage. He tugs the 20 pound note from between your tits, your hands following his to grab for it.

You give Ghost several noises of grievances as he holds the note away from you, a look of slight disgust evident in the ways his eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed.

By the time you gave up trying to reach the banknote, he’d begun digging in his back pocket. “I’d like my tip back, asshole.”

Ghost says nothing in return, no noise or gesture to acknowledge he had heard you. Instead, he tugs a 20 and a 50 pound note from his pocket and tuck the two bills into the space between your breasts. The money from the other man was crumpled and shoved back into his pocket.

You don’t stop him, you’re a bit too turned on to even think of stepping away from him.

“There,” he mutters. “your tip.” He steps back from you, like he was going to leave and go back to his table. You, however, were having none of that.

“Hold on.” Your hand twitches, stopping before it could shoot out to grab his wrist (but you’re smarter than that, you know him). “You didn’t call or anything.”

Ghost frowns under the mask. “I’m not home.” It was a clipped reply, not one you wanted.

“What?” You match his frown, annoyed.

“I’m here for work. You saw the others,” his hand gestures vaguely to the upstairs, “they’re my coworkers.”

You raise an eyebrow, “you work with someone who has a mohawk?” Disappointment flickers in Ghost’s eyes, if it was from your question or just the thought of Soap’s haircut, you didn’t know. The poor man isn't even there to defend himself.

“Is it that hard to believe?” Ghost knows that, yes, it is hard to believe that he worked with a Scotsman with a terrible haircut while continuing to be the infamous Lieutenant ‘Ghost.’

The look on your face screams ‘yes.’

Ghost relents, “listen.” His voice has a certain sadness in it that makes you calm down a bit. Truthfully, you’re pretty damn pissed at him for just showing up out of the blue from God-knows-where, but your expression softens after a few seconds.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Riley.” Your coworker nudges your shoulder to let you know it was your turn to use the kiosk. “Go back to your friends,” you wave your hand in a dismissive fashion. “I’m working.”

Ghost doesn’t budge, even after you’ve ducked between the bead curtains that dangle at the top half of the doorway. You pop back out of the doorway, an unsurprised look on your face.

“Don’t flirt with him.”

Your eyebrows fly up, an incredulous tone flooding your voice. “What?”

“Don’t flirt with him,” Ghost repeats, his eyes boring into yours.

You set a hand on your hip, annoyed. “I’m making money.” The look in his eyes doesn’t change, he’s utterly serious about some random man you’re flirting with for extra cash. A thought crosses your mind, and your annoyance melts into mischief.

“You’re jealous over him?” The way his eyes widen a bit is enough to tell you that, yeah, he is. “Really, big boy?”

And fuck, if you didn’t have him wrapped around your finger by the way you walked, you had him now. All it took was one stupid nickname and Ghost is crumbling into Simon.

“Not jealous,” is his defense. You just soak it in with a grin on your face. You step towards him a little, shoulders forward and leaning down ever so slightly so that your cleavage is a little more obvious, so that the money he stuck between your tits is poking right out at him.

“You sure?” You look up at him, still grinning like your coworker once had when she got a free vape from a customer. “Seems like you’re a bit jealous.”

All he can do is stare down at you, clenching his jaw shut lest he say something he really shouldn’t. But God, does he wish he could.

Really, if it weren’t only 5 PM, he would’ve let you get to him. Let you drag him into an empty VIP room and fuck your words right out of you, leaving you a whimpering, babbling mess. But Ghost — Simon — knows better than to incapacitate you when you’re working.

All he’s left to do is watch as you give him little smirks from across the room, as you adjust your clothes to be just a bit more revealing, as you get close enough that he can smell the remnants of your perfume when you ask him aimless questions. And that’s just what he’ll do once you prance off to get his teammates drinks.

You pat him on his covered cheek patronizingly before you slink away, outstretching your hands for the three drinks cluttered at one side behind the bar. You pass him by, drinks in hand.

“If anything,” you look up to his eyes as you pass him, “it’s the guys you’re with you should be jealous of. You know I like older guys.” That’s enough for Simon to be reclaimed by Ghost.

He follows after you, glowering at your back. You don’t have to look back at him to know he’s scowling at you, but it brings you a slight bit of satisfaction.

“C’mon, big boy,” you hum, “I’ll get you another drink if you tell me his name.” You look back at him once you reach the staircase and climb a few steps ahead of him.

Ghost stares into your eyes like a dead man, you almost think you’ve gone a bit too far. “No.”

You give him an exaggerated pout and turn back to the front to see where you’re going. “If you aren’t jealous, you shouldn’t have a problem with it.”

“No,” he huffs, irritation growing steadily. “Ask again and I’ll have your head.”

You quicken your pace on the last few steps, skirt bouncing from the motion; Ghost doesn’t bother to look away. He follows you back to the table where Laswell and the others are chatting quietly.

You lean down to set the drinks on the table, and Ghost takes his chance. His hands hover around your hips, bulge brushing against your ass as he moves behind you to sit down in his seat.

“Sorry,” he muses in the most unapologetic tone you’ve ever heard from him. It’s Simon’s eyes that look into yours, like a challenge. A really, really horny challenge. “Had to get past you.”

#cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley fanfic #fem reader #simon riley mw2 #simon riley x female reader #cod fic #mw2 fic #mw2 x you #mw2 smut #mw2 x reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #simon ghost riley smut

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moonpascaltoo · 10 months ago

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joel miller

MASTERLIST • PEDRO PASCAL CHARACTERS • 05/04/24

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs

two three four five

𑣲 declined pt2 pt3 I @alltheirdamn

You're on a cross-country road trip when your tires blow, and you're forced to get them fixed at a small town mechanic shop. When your card declines, you only have one other option to get your car back.

𑣲 a happy man I @psychedelic-ink

when your friend sets you up on a blind date, you had no idea how impactful it would be.

𑣲 once again in your arms I @foli-vora

the day of the outbreak, reader and baby were in town and she couldnt call joel (or viceversa) cause the phone lines were down. they were separated for a few years until they arrives at the quarantine zone he's in, and he recognizes them in the crowd.

𑣲 invisible sting I @quin-ns

bill and frank host. tess is jealous. joel is confronted with his feelings. you cry over a shower

𑣲 snowflakes, a fireplace, and you I @swiftispunk

you get more than you bargained for when you end up snowed in at miller's inn on christmas eve.

𑣲 seams I @fuckyeahdindjarin

𑣲 joel drabble I @suzdin

𑣲 as long as you want pt2 pt3 I @auteurdelabre

When you're injured in the stables one morning your patrol partner and enemy Joel Miller is the only one there to help.

𑣲 the not so invisible string I @stylesispunk

you and Joel were made right for each other in the wrong time. Now, thirteen years later your paths crossed when both of your daughters get in trouble at school. Would be the right time for you now?

𑣲 i couldn’t want you anymore I @/stylesispunk

when Sarah's mom came back into Joel's life to fight for their past relationship, Joel needs to convince he is in a happy relationship with the florist next to his gallery in order to make her go away. The problem is, he and the florist can't stand each other's guts or that it's what he thinks.

𑣲 the falling pt2 pt3 I @getitoutofmymindwrites

you catch Joel cheating on you. The world comes crushing down.

𑣲 greener memories of better men I @netherfeildren

Best Story of the Day! South Austin elementary school started a “Breakfast With Dads” program but many dads couldn’t make it and several students didn’t have father figures. The school posted fliers at the local YMCA’s for 50 volunteer fathers… 600 different people from all backgrounds showed up…

𑣲 jealous I @eufezco

you’re a little jealous of tess.

𑣲 soft sweet I @cavillscurls

You share your first kiss with the last man you ever expected: your older, grouchy, overly protective patrol partner, Joel Miller.

𑣲 let me (put my lips to somethin’) I @bluebeary-jay

5 times you wanted to kiss Joel, and 1 time it actually happened

𑣲 needs I @toxicanonymity

Joel wants to find a bed before you go all the way, but neither of you can wait that long.

𑣲 wildflower and barely I @yellowharrington

after deciding to change your age range on a dating app in hope of a change of scenery, you stumble across joel miller.

𑣲 arms tonite I @motherjoel

basically its YOU who gets stabbed by the baseball bat. joel isnt good with feelings. david does not exist david cant hurt anybody. a bit of angst and a bit of fluff. also LOOSELY based on arms tonite by mother mother

𑣲 don’t take the girl I @alt-vera

when faced with a life-threatening choice, joel miller makes a surprising confession.

𑣲 feels so right I @fake-bleach

Your college boyfriend's a dick, and it doesn't help that he dragged you along with him to a bar just to treat you like shit. You plan on catching a ride home after an incident between you two, but turns out that your dad's best friend's there too, and he saw everything. He ends up offering you a ride instead, but there's no promises that you make it back home for the night.

𑣲 sweetheart I @dustydaddyyy

you're home from college for summer '99 to visit your parents, when your eye wanders upon their next-door neighbor, joel miller.

𑣲 honey stained hands I @jolalibrary

He knew what Jackson was when he arrived the second time. A communal, a place where everyone chips in. It's why he doesn't turn his nose up when he's given menial tasks. One of which, is fixing his neighbour's porch. His neighbour, who is pretty and smiles too sweetly, bakes cakes for special birthdays, and stares at the toolbox he's been given with a haunted look, one which raises more questions than answers.

𑣲 softdom joel I @joelscruff

a collection of important moments between you and joel miller, your grumpy new patrol partner in jackson, wyoming.

𑣲 one thing im missing I @/joelscruff

you and joel accidentally end up falling asleep together, and what follows is the beginning of a quiet and tender relationship neither of you saw coming.

𑣲 somewhere to run I @punkshort

You move to a small town in the middle of Texas to escape your past and start over. You don't expect to fall for the town's handsome sheriff.

𑣲 hate when you’re right I @/punkshort

After a heated argument with Joel, you finally convince him into leaving Jackson so you could explore a store for new clothes, and what happens could change your life forever.

𑣲 in the woods somewhere I @eupheme

When a break-in startles you awake, it’s hard not to assume the worst. But when the thief is revealed to be a teenager just trying to help her wounded guardian - you find your heart softening.

𑣲 are you mine? I @/eupheme

A change in your usual patrol schedule, a dash of over-protectiveness, and a gossipy partner leads to you desperately wish you could turn back time

𑣲 hating game I @gutsby

Celebrating your dad’s birthday at the yacht club becomes damn near unbearable when Joel Miller brings a date along too. Jealousy and hate sex ensue.

𑣲 abstaining game I @/gutsby

The only thing worse than an anti-sex retreat is an anti-sex retreat with your former fuckbuddy and dad’s best friend. Especially when sharing one cabin.

𑣲 wingman I @/gutsby

Your bestie braves the tampon aisle for you.

𑣲 kiss to kiss I @jobean12-blog

Joel is grumpier than usual and the only way to make it better is YOU.

#joel miller #tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller series #joel miller oneshot #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal #joel miller masterlist #jm masterlist #joel miller fic rec

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queers-gambit · 3 months ago

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All Mine

title citation: song by Brent Faiyaz

prompt: ( requested ) you and Tangerine break up, and the man you date after is a serious downgrade. on a night out, Tangerine decides your story isn't yet finished.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 7k+

note: did i use this gif already? yes. but it fits the theme of this story.

warnings: same drill - Tan's government name is Aaron, Lem's is Brian. cheater!Reader (not on but with Tan, you'll see), some angst, break-ups, but overall hurt and comfort, happy ending, small NSFW, random "State Farm" quote (not sponsored), smoking indoors, brief domestic aggression, brief violence (it's Tan), term "going postal" used, not edited. "not all men" only applies to Tan i don't make the rules.

We begin today by discussing the concept of soulmates.

World renowned Ancient Greek philosopher, Plato (born Aristocles, not to be mistaken for Aristotle), once theorized that humans were originally created with four arms, four legs, and two faces. The Greek God, Zeus, motivated either by fear of man's potential power or the need to reprimand their arrogant pride, decided to punish humans by severing them into two perfect halves - dooming them to roam the Earth in search of their whole self.

According to Ancient Chinese mythology, The Red String of Fate (tied by the Lunar matchmaking God, Yue Lao) says lovers who are destined to be are tied together through lifetimes by a red string - the color that symbolizes happiness - regardless of time, place, or circumstance. This string might stretch or tangle (like all relationships), but will never break.

Some Western cultures believe in the idea of simple "soulmates", two people destined to meet and love one another unconditionally. They thought their souls are someway, somehow intertwined - be it in the stars, by the cosmos, or even some intrusive, baby-presenting, diaper-wearing, winged fucker named Cupid. "Soulmates" operate as two halves of one whole, yet still remain two separate individual persons. The idea originates from Plato's theory, but essentially affirms: there's a perfect someone for everyone.

Other cultures might say their religious deity or just faith in said religion is peoples one, true love. Some argue a "soulmate" isn't a romantic partner at all, but instead, a person's twin. You know, same womb, same "soul", that kinda reasoning.

Akin to the Greeks, theosophy claims God created androgynous souls, and these souls were individually split into the two genders they once were. Each half seeks the other, and when their karmic debt is paid (being a reason they were split in the first place), the two halves will return to their whole, true self.

and before anyone says anything about gender, remember, these theologies originate from a time that a modern day Taco Bell dollar menu burrito would literally make the theologists implode!

Some New Age philosophy says a soulmate is a totally separate entity (meaning, not split or derived from us), and who spends lifetimes as your friend, lover, co-worker, partner. Soulmates are the greatest union of the heart, no matter the shape or form it presents as; being two connected souls. Hence platonic soulmates, as well.

Other common literary soulmate idioms:

cut from the same cloth -> meaning being so in-tune and similar in characteristics, demeanor, and / or behavior, you "must've" come from the same place.

apple of my eye -> while, yes, it means being extremely important to a person, it also could mean being the "core" of your lover's heart and / or soul; similar to how an apple core keeps the fruit's integrity.

better / other half -> it's 2 am, this is pretty self explanatory.

ride or die -> again, self explanatory - but indicates that a soulmate will live life loyally with you in good and bad times.

match made in heaven -> being absolutely SO perfect for each other, your love was crafted by divine intervention in the eternal kingdom of heaven - where a thing or two about "soulmates" might be known.

my heart and soul -> your love being so strong, so right, it takes over logic and emotion; and intoxicates your very soul - your entire being.

No matter what approach you take, what you do or don't believed, there was no denying: Aaron was your soulmate.

That arrogant, smug, sarcastic, devilishly handsome, mysterious, devious, sneaky, alluring, intelligent, bitchy, suave, charming, intuitive, opinionated jackass who used the operative codename Tangerine.

But to you, he was Tan. Tangie. Aaron. Ace. The love of your life.

You couldn't avoid it. There was no wishing him away, no genie to appear for your third wish. There was no point in trying to avoid or deny your feelings anymore, they were an 18-wheeler and there was no crosswalk in sight; and that's where everything fell apart - realizing you were ready and willing for this emotion to come barreling into you. When things got serious, when you were ready for distinct, specific commitment, Aaron suddenly reared back and put so much distance between you, it was as if he catapulted into a different timezone.

You had been at a mutual friend's birthday party, and after several rounds of alcohol, where everyone was good and buzzed and happy in their own little worlds, incidentally toppled into a public showdown.

"What's the rush?" Aaron asked you, tears inconceivably dribbling down your cheeks one-by-one while stood in a packed-out bar. "Huh? What's your rush to get married? Things have been so good, doll - so fucking good - and you want to ruin that? This isn't - "

You barked, "'Ruin that'? Ruin, what, exactly!? Aaron, we've been together five years - five fucking years, half a bloody decade - how could you possibly say you don't know if you want to marry me or not yet!?"

"It's not you, love - "

"It's not me, it's marriage that scares you!?" You snarled, so used to hearing it, you can quote him.

"Yes!"

"It's the same difference! You love me, but marriage is so scary, it's not worth it, even with me! No matter how much you say you love me, right? You just can't - no, no! - you won't love me enough to marry me! Because you're capable of it, you're capable of loving me enough, but you're much more comfortable being an emotionless jackass - "

"No, no, don't go putting words in my mouth," he groaned, head tilting back, shaking his curls as he rightened to look at you. "Baby, just listen to me, please, neither of us are in a state to have this conversation - "

"We never are, according to you! It's never the right time, the right energy, right setting! What's the issue, Aaron? Huh?" You felt your anger crack and chip away like a hard boiled egg, revealing the soft emotion inside. "What's the real problem being with me? With marrying me?"

"We're just - we're so young!"

"Try again."

"You're just not thinking about - "

"Oh, no, but I am!" You snapped, setting your nearly empty glass to the bartop and shocking yourself (and the eavesdropping bartender) that it didn't shatter. "I am thinking, Aaron, I'm finally thinking about myself - for once - and I know what I want! And you know what? I'm not afraid anymore to ask for what I know I deserve!"

Aaron scoffed, shaking his head as he did when faced with confrontation. "Neither of us are drunk or sober enough to get though this conversation, so... Let's just..." He trailed, brows furrowing when you shook your head with a hateful scoff, yanked from his grip, and stormed away. But he quickly snatched your upper arm, halting your escape, demanding, "Wait, wait, wait, hang on, love. What are you doing? Where are you going?"

"Away from you - "

"They haven't even cut the cake, baby, c'mon, the night is still early - "

"Excuse me while I don't want to stand around here with my ex-boyfriend in front of our friends pretending to be happy."

"What're you - ex-boyfriend?" He stuttered in genuine hurt and confusion.

In that moment, like divine intervention to semi-prove your point, Brian, Aaron's brother, who used the codename Lemon, dropped in. Tangerine let go of you to not make it look like he was holding you in place. "S-Sorry, I know this looks tense, but, uh, bruva," Brian showed Tangerine his phone, "we've gotta go, man..."

"We're in the middle of something, Lem."

"I get that, but... Duty calls, mate."

Tangerine sighed, hand through his hair, turning to you in what you used to think was real empathy. "I-I'm so sorry, love, I have to go - but we'll finish this conversation when I get home, okay? Yeah?

You sniffled and nodded sadly, "See? You see? You love your job more than me, that literally in the middle of a fight about marriage, you're gonna go. Did you see how easy that was for you? Yet you can't love me enough? In a much less high-stakes situation?" With another nod, but this time out of realized confirmation, you breathed, "I'm done, Tangerine." He knew you were serious when you reverted back to his codename; stripping the personal warmth from your tone. "Okay? I'm done. I can't do this anymore, it's absolutely unfair. You've made it clear, you don't want to marry me, so, that's fine, but I'm not in the business of wasting anymore time than I already have. Now," you took a breath, "we can talk later about getting your shit outta my place, probably after your mission, but until then, just please, leave me the fuck alone."

You swore that was going to be the end. It was supposed to be. There was never supposed to be a relapse. Never an epilogue. The Tangerine / Aaron chapter was closed, the entire book was supposed to be closed!

But when you're single for the first time in five years, you kinda forget how to casually date.

There's dating apps, which, as some might know, is just a nightmare experience. There's sometimes local singles events - but they're not always the vibe you usually want to spend your energy on. Matchmakers were (apparently) thousands of wasted dollar. Dating coworkers is typically ALWAYS weird unless you're Jim and Pam, or Meredith and Derek, or whatever other couples TV romanticized. Reality dating shows? That air out all your business? PASS. Taking your mother's recommendations? PASS. Especially if she has her little "church friends" trying to set you up, too? HARD PASS. Sometimes, you just start praying for a hunky Italian Mobster to abduct you - it honestly sounds a little easier (read: this is sarcasm)! Your friends try to set you up, but it usually doesn't click, or it's a strange experience that makes you reject further offers. You could always hope a guy spills your coffee and offers to buy you a new one, which turns into you talk the day away - but life isn't a Glen Powell movie.

Oh, and don't even get me started on ghosting - fuck you if you ghost people, you immature coward.

So, sometimes, you get real lonely, start to feel a little self pity, like you made a mistake breaking up... And maybe you seek company in alcohol... And that alcohol can sometimes help you reminisce... Which exasperates the loneliness... And eventually, maybe that little devil on your should convinces your to text your ex... Which in turn, starts an entire precedent about it being "okay" to go back to him in times of need and desire, of desperation, sometimes of boredom, or even times of comfort.

Aaron had left you alone after the break up, he knew to give you space; so, when you start casually fucking about a year after ending things, it was you pulling all the strings. Women in power, ammirite? Though, Aaron didn't mind your use of him, he always thought the break-up was a fluke of some kind, something fleeting, temporary - hence why he left you alone to sort your feelings. Aaron knew he wasn't perfect, but neither were you; resulting in plenty of "negative" aspects of your relationship, but there were far more positives - more ups than downs - assuring you both know, this was real. This was love. This was true love. It was eternal and raw and passionate... But you couldn't wait forever for him to face his fears.

Until... One night, after hours in his sheets, from the side of his bed, you declared, "This was the last time, Aaron."

He watched you hook your bra, cigarette in his mouth. "Oh, yeah?" He mused, having heard it before. "All right, sweetheart. Same time next week, yeah?" Aaron laughed at his own joke, casually flicking ash into the bedside tray.

"No. I'm being serious, Ace," you sighed almost sadly. You stood to yank your panties and leggings up in one move; shifting your hips, wiggling a bit to adjust the feeling of tightly wadded cloth cutting through raw coochie. "Ryan and I, uh... We're, uh, you know," you cleared your throat, trying to situate your tee shirt without looking at him, "we're going exclusive."

"Uh-huh, is that so?"

"Yep."

"When was this decision made?"

"Oh, uh," you blanched, "the idea was proposed a couple days ago, but we're making it official tonight - "

"I've seen you 8 fucking times this week and it's only Tuesday - "

"I know - "

"What the fuck, Y/N!?"

You glared, "What do you want me to say, Aaron!?"

"That you're not being serious! We're supposed to be together, not whatever - "

"You knew that we were just fucking to blow off steam and fill certain voids, we weren't back together! You always knew one day, this was bound to happen."

"Why? Huh? Why fuck me, but date him?"

"Because you're allergic to committeemen and Ryan isn't!"

"So, why do you keep comin' around? Why keep comin' back t'me, huh? If he's willing to commit, why're you the one fucking around on him? With me?" But the look on your face said it all, making Aaron laugh spitefully, "Ohhh, no, oh, sweetheart. Oh, don't fucking tell me, doll, he's not fucking you right?"

"For fuck's sake, would you please get off your high horse a single moment just to fuck off - "

"Why else would you keep coming back?" He demanded, smug as could be. "Don't wanna date me, but you'll fuck me? Oh, poor Ryan must really be lacking - "

"I told you, this is the last time."

"Yeah, uh-huh, sure," he laughed, leaning back, hands behind his head. "They all always say that before they come crawling back in my bed."

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" You snarled, feeling more hurt than you should've. And Tangerine could read it all over your face. "I told you every man I slept with - granted it's only been two this past year, but still - are-are-are you saying there's been others? That you haven't told me about? Have you been fucking other people while fucking me?"

"Hang on, love, listen, I didn't mean - "

"I think I need to go, this was a mistake - all of this - coming back here, fucking you. I need to go," you huffed, stepping into your Crocs (for a quick escape), and rushing to grab your jacket, purse, and keys. The entire time, Tangerine was trying to amend what he said, but it felt like the (final?) nail in the coffin you had been waiting on; assurance that you needed to be without Aaron. See, upon your casual fuck, you agreed to date and sleep with others if you wanted - you weren't exclusive - but for reasons deemed useless now, you were supposed to tell one another about other partners. And he couldn't even do that?

So, you left his flat, and when he followed you out, he saw you disappear at Olympic sped down the staircase - key to his place left on the hallway floor.

"Well, well," his elderly cougar neighbor leaned in her doorway, watching you go with crossed arms and a smirk, "looks like li'l miss is gone finally, huh? This mean you're available for dinner tonight?"

Tangerine snatched the key from the ground, "Not tonight, Mrs. Roberts."

"It's 'Ms' now," she informed, but Tan didn't even hear; just slipped inside his flat, shut the door, locked it, and stood in the foyer, palm flat, looking at the key as if it were a foreign object, for 37 minutes.

Knowing how upset you were, Tangerine didn't try to contact you. Yet one week after your fight, when he knew your standing "Soul Cycle" class took place and you'd came by after, he set up his flat. He got you dozens of apologetic roses all mixed with bright sunflowers and dotted with baby's breath - bouquets he put together himself. Candles lined the place, all lit within fire code restrictions. He played light, modern instrumental music because he knew it had been on your Spotify playlist - not that he was checking it or anything. He cooked your favorite meal by hand. He cleaned himself up, styled his hair, wore the cologne you got him for your first Christmas together (that he's never changed), and wore the baby blue button-up he knew drove you crazy. To top it all off, he got a very dainty golden bracelet - one that was nice enough to convey the amount he spent (as if money = sincerity of apology) but still simple enough that Ryan wouldn't notice if it became part of your normal jewelry box. In fact, nobody would - except you and Tangerine, the way he likes things. The bracelet is even engraved with a subtle 'A' because no matter who you date, he always knew you'd be his and he'd be yours - but wouldn't point this out to you... Yet.

Your class ends at 6:30, you were never later than 7:05. He was ready and waiting at the door, going over his apology by 6:15. He changed into a new, identical shirt at 6:33 after sweating through the first; drying himself, spraying extra antiperspirant over his torso. He changed the tissue wrapping of his offering bouquet so it wasn't wet from his sweaty palms when he gave it to you at 6:41. At 6:46, he began pacing. Aaron began impulsively checking his phone at 6:53. He didn't have your location anymore (a con to the break-up he strongly protested out of fear for your safety) so he couldn't check if you were lost, in trouble, in traffic, at that smoothie place you loved. 7:15 rolled around, no key in the lock. At 7:22, he called Brian in a panic.

"What's wrong? She's just late, Aaron, take a breath, mate."

"She's never late."

7:30 turned to 8... Then to 9... And finally, at 10, Tangerine realized you were serious - that was the last time together.

The hurt suddenly set in, realizing you're not coming back. Selfishly, he knew, he could fill a void no man - even one as objectively good as Ryan - could. He knew you must've felt lonely; craving adventure and spontaneity, something exciting that he knew you lacked with Ryan - or any man.

For days, he agonized - trying to get in your head.

Without him, were you lonely? His job makes him travel, but did Ryan ever take you anywhere? Did he surprise you? Open your doors? Send you flowers? Keep you waiting? Did Ryan communicate with you in the way Tangerine knew you preferred? Was he kind? ...Were you alone?

He knew for a fact, when together, no matter what, he never made you feel unloved, under appreciated, devalued, taken for granted, but perhaps that changed when he began his allergic reaction to the prospect of marriage.

Two years. Two years since breaking up. One year since you ended your Friends with Benefits situationship. One year, you've been with Ryan, and by God, did it drive Aaron insane. For months, Brian felt a responsibility for his part in pulling Tan away that night instead of leaving him to work things out with you, but his brother assured it was a long time coming... Though, Tan had to admit, he never thought it'd go this long.

Like a good neighbor, Jake from State Farm is there! But like a good brother, Brian is there to take Aaron out for a night of necessary debauchery. This was an otherwise mundane activity, something to blow off steam and remove oneself from reality - yet fate works in really funny ways.

The club Lemon chose was packed to the brim; stuffed with bumping, sweaty bodies; strung out to blaring music in various zombified states induced by drugs, alcohol, or maybe both. Luckily, their group had an elevated position in the club's VIP seating, keeping away from the dance floor; giving limited advantage in height when surveying the area.

That's how Tangerine saw you after a year.

Judging from the glittery sash and cheap tiara on your friend's head, he guessed you were there for a birthday party; feeling his stomach knot itself into a noose when he noted Ryan hovering around your flank. He wore khakis, loafers, a creased, pale yellow button-up he guessed was thrifted; holding his drink in one hand, the other shoved in his pocket, bobbing and nodding awkwardly to the thumping music.

When you moved, so he Ryan. When you threw back a shot, Ryan looked away with a long, heavy sigh and curled lip. When you tried to dance, Tangerine saw Ryan snatch your upper arm to reprimand directly in your ear; a couple of your friends even shooting him looks of distain.

A hand clapped heavily on his shoulder, Lemon appearing at Tan's side. "Only you would come t'a club, mate, crawlin' with babes, yeah?" He gestured to the scantily dressed women dancing provocatively around them with his hand holding a drink, "And stand here, like-like, you're Lurch or some shit!"

"'Lurch'?" Tangerine repeated, eyes never straying from where you were in an obvious disagreement with Ryan.

"Like - you know - from the Addam's Family? Tall fucker? Just stands 'round, leering?" Lemon listed intentionally, seeing his brother unmoving. "Jesus, fuck, mate, just go talk to her already! Swear, you stand here any longer, watchin' people, they'll toss us out 'cause of the complaints. Shape up, mate, time t'shit or get off the pot. Move it."

Tangerine finally adjusted his stance, sniffling, shaking his head, "Nah, mate, don't know what you're talkin' 'bout - "

"She's right fuckin' there," Lemon pointed, outing his brother completely, "and you've been a bitch for too long about this. When are you gonna get another chance like right now? Swallow your fuckin' pride, yeah? And just go talk to her! Go apologize! Get her back! 'Cause, just look at her, mate," Lemon paused, both watching you, "think she's happy with a bloke like that? Treats her like that? Only time I ever saw her look at you like that was the night youse two broke up..."

Lemon offered a pursed-lip-smile, patting Tangerine on the shoulder twice and backing up a couple paces. It was like he watched the final bit of confidence Tan needed inject itself into his heart; shoulders almost doubling in size as he shed his suit jacket too casually. Lemon materialized to accept it, laying it in their private booth as Tangerine lit up a cigarette, pocketed his solid gold cuff links, and began rolling up his sleeves while surging through the VIP section and into the general population.

Lemon followed swiftly, several others on their tail as the promise of excitement was too good to pass up.

"I'm telling you, you're being fucking embarrassing!" Ryan was heard snarling. "Let's go home before you make it worse! I have a reputation to protect, imagine what anyone would say if they saw my girlfriend acting like a fucking fool!"

"Oh, Jesus, I have two shots and you think I'm wasted? That I have to go home? You think you can treat me like I'm some child? I'm not going anywhere with you," you snapped back.

"I told you we'd be here an hour - it's past that - "

"Oh, for fuck's sake, it's a birthday party! We weren't ever going to stay just an hour!"

"You're embarrassing yourself, now let's fucking go!" Ryan grabbed you again to emphasize his point, but you didn't even get a chance to struggle because Tangerine was imposing himself between you; plucking his smoldering cigarette from his lips, French inhaling the smoke. Ryan snarled, forced back a step, "The fuck - "

"She said she's not going anywhere with you, so I suggest you walk away," Tangerine growled, smoke billowing from his lips.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Ryan scoffed, looking close to laughing.

"That's my girl you're fucking with, so, again, walk away," he lifted his cigarette for a puff.

"Tangie," you spoke gently, holding the back of his designer black shirt and gently tugging him backward, "Tangie, c'mon, baby, back up, let it go."

"'Your girl'?" Ryan actually laughed at Tan, not hearing you over the deafening music, but the two men were clear as day to one another. "Got it fucked up, playboy, if you're tryna tell me what's what about what's mine."

"Yeah?" Tan nodded, grinning slowly. "Think she's yours?"

"She ain't nobody else's - "

"That why she was coming to me this whole time?" Tan taunted. "'Cause you couldn't make her nut, couldn't fuck her right. What a fucking shame, then she had to come to me 'cause I don't disappoint her. She likes the way I fuck 'cause it's the only time I get rough with her, not like you - "

The gathered crowd gasped when Ryan swung first - everyone saw it. The punch never landed, Tangerine keeping you behind him as he adjusted to upper cut Ryan. It spurred an entire altercation; your girlfriends quickly scurrying out of the way as Ryan and "his boys" tried to take on Tangerine, Lemon, and their entourage. The smoldering cigarette was dropped. Security had to step in, blood making the linoleum floors slicker than spilt alcohol made it sticky, both parties being escorted out of different exits of the venue.

You were faced with a decision.

"Y/N! C'mon!" The birthday girl called, holding up her bloodied boyfriend. Ryan paused and glared at you, face fucked, nose broke, eye darkening, jaw swollen, blood smeared; waiting for your decision. You shook your head and let the drunken crowd swallow your form.

Unsure how, you were let into the VIP section to grab Tangerine and Lemon's belongings, quickly jogging in your glittering heels towards the back exit.

"Should've fuckin' killed him - did you fuckin' hear him!? You saw him, what he did!?" Tangerine was raging, pacing the alley as his group watched on; unsure what to say or do to calm him down. "He fucking grabbed her, too, should go find him - put his fucking face in the Goddamn pavement - "

"Hey."

Tangerine froze when your voice was heard, meekly standing there with suit jackets in arm.

"Baby girl!" Lemon barked, laughing happily and opening his arms. "Oh! There she is! C'mere!" He happily growled, hugging you tightly. The others picked up on the hint, excusing themselves to find the cars while Lemon greeted you and Tangerine almost shit a brick.

"Oh, uh," you breathed when Lem pulled away, "I grabbed your jacket, sweetie."

"Thanks, love, can always count on yah," he beamed, accepting the apparel. He glanced over his shoulder and nodded, "I, uh, I'll go help find the car. We'll be at the end of the alley, yeah?"

"Yeah," you agreed, nodding; squeezing his arm softly before letting him pass. Almost sheepishly, you approached Tangerine, lips rolled between your teeth, noting the split lip and disheveled curls. His hands were on his hips, pacing a small circle, head tilted and unable to meet your gaze. "You, uh, got a li'l something," you gestured at your mouth.

His head lifted, seeing the small teasing glint to your eyes; making him smirk and joke back, "Yeah, just a bit, huh?"

"And you left this," you held out his suit jacket.

When he took it back, Tangie nodded and rushed, "Come home, doll."

"Aaron - "

"Nah, nah, c'mon, come home, baby, please. I know I've been the worst, I know you didn't deserve it - but after losing you... Actually losing you... I mean, when you didn't show up, like you said - I felt everything at once and I knew that I'd never be the man who deserved you, but I owed it to us to try. So... I made the decision to love you better."

"That's nice to hear, but - "

"But without action, it don't mean shit, I know," he finished for you, stepping closer to caress your cheek. "If you let me, baby, I swear, I'll love you better."

You couldn't verbally answer, just sigh and lean forward to rest your forehead on his chest for just a moment of peace. "Thank you," you mumbled, "for earlier, when Ryan got aggressive."

His arms came around in a vice, keeping you close and enveloped in his warmth. Tangerine promised, "Never gotta thank me, baby. Never." A horn blared from the mouth of the alley, knowing it was Aaron's people and you needed to make a decision. Right here. Right now. Yet, your ex just sighed and pulled away, offering, "We can drop you home, if you like. Or I'll get'cha a hotel, can crash with Brian - "

"Can I stay with you?"

Tangerine gulped, appearing shocked but agreeing, "Of course, baby, yeah, yeah, 'course, c'mon, let's go, this way, watch your step, love."

He quickly dropped his arms only to pull his jacket over your shoulders; keeping you at his side as he lead you to the idling car. Unknown to you, Ryan was at his own car, watching, waiting; seeing you leave with Aaron made his blood boil - but when his eyes connected with Aaron's over the roof of his car, seeing him grin, Ryan swore he could've gone postal.

"Are you guys alright?" You checked, Tan keeping you so close, you were practically on his lap. Brian was driving and two other guys sat passenger, all giving varying assurances that they were okay.

"Them frat fucks couldn't hit for shit, love, swear," Brian chuckled from the front seat. "Don't nobody fuck with our girl, yeah?"

"'Our girl'?" You repeated in amusement.

"You's Tangie's girl, yeah?" The guy next to you, codename Fuji, softly explained, "Makes you's untouchable, it does, yeah?"

You just chuckled slightly, readjusting so your arm around Tan's neck tightened; his own around your hips doing the same, silently snuggling closer. The car ride was entertaining to say the least, the lads filling the space with meaningless but very loud conversation about everything and nothing. To your relief, Lemon pulled up to Tan's building first; you two piling out of the car to the sounds of three randy lads cheering.

"C'mere," Tan huffed, one arm wrapping around your waist as the other offered the tinted car The Bird. He lead you towards the building, nodding to the doorman in greeting, "Big man."

This doorman had manned your building since years before you ever moved in; grinning at the sight of you, "Well, well, well... You two look real smitten, you do. There some reason? Aye?"

"Oh, I don't wanna hear it!" You whined jokingly, Tangerine laughing in triumph.

"Got my girl back," Tan clapped his hand into the doorman's, "huh? Told you."

"Aye-heeeyyyy! Welcome home, Missus!"

"Tuh," you barked with a fake laugh, sending Tangerine a sharp look over your shoulder. "Thank you, Thomas," you squeezed the man's arm as you passed.

"Ma'am," he tipped his hat, letting Tan go after you, before securing the door shut.

"Hear that?" You shot at Tan, the lobby attendant sitting up in attention behind the welcome desk. "Even Tom - "

"Don't start before we even get in the door," he chuckled, sighing, nodding to the pimply teen nephew of the building's owner before approaching the elevator bay.

"Don't be a dick - "

"I'm not trying to be, love, I just - I want us to get inside before we do. Yeah?" He frowned, petting hair from your forehead as the elevator dinged upon arrival. "I want us to talk 'bout it, alluvit, doll, but let us get home first."

You sighed and agreed, the machinery traveling up to your flat's floor; which required a key to access. There were only four flats on this floor - all having two stories - and when the elevator dinged to announce your arrival, one of the doors flew open.

You gasped, hand slapping to your mouth to hold in the shrill laughter that rammed into your lips in a desperate attempt to escape. Your eyes widened. You stopped short in your place when Ms. Roberts sauntered into her doorway, leaning on the frame in brand new, expensive, racy lingerie. Her greying hair was curled in stiff ringlets, her make-up heavy and obvious, smelling like she had bathed in perfume by the way it choked you in the hallway.

"Oh, hello, there. About time you got home - OH!" She purred in a low, sexy rumble before jumping in fright when she caught sight of you under Tangie's protective arm. With a squeal, she ducked back into her home and slammed the door; leaving you and Tan froze in place.

"Oh... My... God."

"Get inside, let's go, c'mon, inside, inside, inside, I won't survive if she comes back," Aaron laughed, ushering you to the door.

"I don't think she would, either," you couldn't help but giggle; entering over the threshold after Tan unlocked the door.

The lighter energy surrounding you two evaporated as you took note that Tangerine hadn't changed anything in the year (and change) you've been separated, a haunting comfort to see now. There was the familiar ghost of who you once were, but all of that was forgotten when Tan's hand slid around your waist from behind.

"All right, love?" He asked in your ear, mouthing at the shell in the way that made your head fall to the side.

"Just a lot of memories here," you whispered, holding his arms to your waist.

Tangerine licked at your exposed neck. "We'll make more," he promised.

"I'm sorry I missed so many."

He paused, sighing; forcing you to shiver from the shock of air over your wet skin. Tan straightened up but kept you in his arms, assuring, "It's my fault. But, uh..." Your head turned to look, watching Tan pull his wallet out and sigh sheepishly, open it, then pluck a gorgeous diamond ring from the bill slot.

"What the hell is that...?"

"When I found it, I first kept it in the box, always on me. Just in case, you know, the moment was right - that you'd believe me when I ask you to marry me. But the box kinda," he shrugged, "fell apart from me openin' it, movin' it around."

"So you put a," you squinted, holding his wrist to look at the ring pinched in his fingers, "3 karat diamond ring in your wallet?"

"3 and a half..."

"Aaron," you sighed, turning to face him fully; unable to tear your gaze away from the ring. "I don't want this ring if - "

"No, no 'ifs'," he rushed, "I swear, it's what I want - it's what I've always wanted and just couldn't admit. After tonight, I don't think I can keep this ring - it needs on your finger and that bastard needs put in the ground - "

"Can you not ruin this proposal by threatening to murder my ex?" You laughed, watching his split lips spread into a grin.

"This a proposal?"

"If you word it right, could be."

"Lemme get on my knee - "

"No," you stopped him, nodding, whispering, "just ask me."

Aaron blinked once in confusion, then simply asked, "Will you marry me?"

You levitated into his arms; arms coiling around his neck; lips to his; sucking air from his lungs into yours, mumbling, "Yes, yes, yes," repeatedly. In surprise, Aaron stumbled back a few steps but caught himself, chuckling, fully hoisting you into his embrace.

"Right answer," he teased, carrying you through the apartment and to the nearest piece of furniture - the couch. Dropping down with you straddling his lap, he chuckled, "Here, put it on, yeah? Keep it safe." You grinned and accepted the ring, letting him slide it on, but unable to admire it in full as it became a free-for-all frenzy; tearing clothes from the other, lips suckling, teeth clashing, spit smearing. Breaking apart for a moment, Tangerine growled, "I don't know if I love or hate tonight, huh? Seein' you with him, sayin' you'll marry me, comin' home - "

"Ace, Tangie? Baby?" You smirked, holding his cheeks to keep his face in front of yours, "Tonight's good - it's a good night. Yeah?"

He nodded, "Yeah."

"It's a good night - say it."

"A good night - great night."

"Great fuckin' night," you agreed, "now, I need you to fuck me before I spontaneously combust - "

Aaron's mouth was on yours before the words were fully formed. You gasped, holding on tightly, encouraging his tongue to tangle with yours as the night's emotions overtook you both in a searing heat of passion. His hands planted on your hips and began guiding your movements in slow, languid strokes over his growing bulge you were seated on.

With a small growl, Tangerine pulled back only to flip you over; laying your back to the cushions so he could hover over you, his hips grinding between your spread legs. "Mine," he grit, licking into your mouth as he pushed his cock directly into your moistening center, "all mine. Hear me? All fucking mine - you won't ever be with another man. Yeah?"

You weakly whimpered, nodding; his teeth catching your bottom lip and pulling. Your breast was palmed by a hot and heavy hand; gasping when Tangie pinched your nipple through the fabric of your dress.

"Nah, nah, nah," Tan grumbled, "wanna hear you say it, baby. Need to hear it."

Boldly, you reached out to rub the heel of your palm into his leaking member, managing to speak against his lips, "I'm all yours, Aaron. Never anyone else's."

"Yeah?" He grit.

"Yeah," you nodded, giving a flex of your hand that made his shoulders stiffen, "and no other man will know me - nor will I know another man. It's you and me."

"About fuckin' time; ain't never lettin' you go again, baby," he breathed, taking both wrists in his to pin over your head. "Now... Let me make up for this past year."

Ms. Roberts wore noise canceling headphones the entire night and began researching new apartment buildings available for move-in ASAP.

Dawn broke, filling the room with a warm, bright light that accentuated the smoke wafting from Aaron's mouth. Neither of you got any sleep; exhausted in the best way possible, laid in bed, your head on his shoulder with arms bent to mindlessly twiddle together in the air.

"Remember that first retreat your company sent employees on?" Aaron asked softly, his other hand flicking his cigarette ash into a nearby ashtray.

"Hm... The one to Cancún?"

"Yeah."

"The one I missed 'cause we had a 48-hour romp?"

Tangerine laughed slightly, "That's the one."

"What about it?"

"Just... Laying here made me think of it. How fucked-out you were, how you missed your damn plane."

"You made me miss it!"

"That sounds accusatory."

You grinned when he lowered the cigarette to your lips, letting you puff it before pulling away. On exhale, you reminded, "You're the one who couldn't cut me a damn break."

"Since when do you want me to go easy on this pussy? Huh?"

With a snicker, you mused, "When you're whiskey-drunk and I'm drinking champagne?"

Tangie paused, then nodded, "Yeah, all right, that's fair. Whiskey dick ain't a joke, love."

You hummed and turned on your side into him, hiking your leg over his hips; snuggling into his warmth, new angle allowing you to gaze up at him. His arm laid around you in a secure hold, the other lazily smoking. You added, "Neither is being champagne drunk, makes me queazy."

"Probably not the best combination for fucking, huh?"

"I don't recommend it."

Aaron was quiet a moment, inhaling toxic smoke with a hiss through his teeth, "Bet they got champagne on them planes to Cancún."

"Bet they got champagne for other destinations, too," you teased. "Besides, why do you care? You're banned from popping bottles."

"Huh? Since when - why?"

"Since you sprayed me with a bottle that cost more than $3,000 USD!"

"If I can't spray my girl in luxury, what the fuck is this all for?" He smirked, looking down at you fondly.

"That bottle was meant to shmooze the German Ambassador!"

"Well, someone should've put a label on it!" You laughed his name, feeling his arm tighten. He tacked on, "Y'know, I gotta admit, just doesn't feel real yet."

"Hmm?"

"You... Back in my arms, in our bed - our home," he gave a great big deep sigh.

"It'll get real when people know we're back together."

"Is it wrong I want it to just be us for a bit? Private, intimate, just being together without everyone's outside influence or opinion?"

You smiled softly, "No, it's not wrong... I'd be lying if I said I didn't want the same."

"Then how about we catch a flight outta here?"

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon," he beamed, suddenly struck with renewed vigor; positively radiating with excitement. You pulled off his chest in time for him to sit up, insisting, "Let's do it all again, baby. Let's catch a flight, change the weather to celebrate us promising forever."

"Tangie, baby, what're you talking about? We can't just up and leave - "

"Why not?"

"We have jobs! Or at least, I have a job with a consistent schedule."

"Oh, c'mon, doll, don't think too hard - let's go, let's catch a flight somewhere warm and sunny."

"You're not gonna let this go, are you?"

Tangerine shrugged, "Not likely. Can think of it as some engagement celebration - but just between us. I mean, it's never gonna be 'just us' again, you know?"

With a sigh, you agreed, "All right... Let's go."

"All right?"

"Yeah, all right, fine."

"Yeah? All right? Fine?"

"Oh, fuck about - don't parrot me, Aaron!"

He chuckled with a grin so wide, you wondered how it didn't split his face in two. Your fiancé playfully dropped onto your front; jostling the bed, arms planted on either side of you to keep his weight balancd while dotting rapid kisses around your face.

When satisfied, he pulled back and all but bounced out of bed while encouraging, "Let's go, c'mon!"

"Baby, wait - "

"You grab the passports, I'll pack for us!"

You paused to watch him rush into the walk-in closet, laughing and muttering as you climbed out of bed, "I'm gonna be in questionable clothing this whole vacation, aren't I?" There was a fond smile on your face.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

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foldingfittedsheets · 1 year ago

Text

Come with me now on another story adventure.

Some types of hardship do start to feel like curses if they happen often enough. One thing I’ve experienced a lot- or at least enough to posit a curse- is my apartments flooding.

I’ve had flooding in three separate apartments I’ve lived in.

The place I lived with Betty flooded due to a massive rainstorm and poor placement on a downhill slope. Betty’s room was more effected than mine, but due to poor handling by the management it resulted in some rampant black mold and my eventual falling out with Betty as we broke the lease to escape.

My first flooding though. Happened when I lived in a third floor apartment. How, you might ask, is that possible?

Oh, Reader. Prepare yourself.

Now, I need to set the stage. Because you see, I shared this apartment with the last boy I’d ever date, Brendan. We’d known going into the relationship that I had a predilection for pussy but it finally clicked that I was just not attracted to men.

This was particularly devastating because I still loved that boy with all my heart but neither of us were getting what we needed out of the relationship. Suffice it to say, the atmosphere in the apartment in which he was sleeping on the couch was A BUMMER.

We were both sick, probably from stress, and had bad coughs. It was the night before midterms.

I was tucked up into bed, with little kitten Leeloo, ready to get to sleep. It was about 10pm. Brendan knocked and poked his head into the room.

“It’s raining in the bathroom,” he said.

I got out of my comfy bed, and joined him in the bathroom. Raining was an exaggeration but there was definitely water dripping down the door jam and pooling up under the paint.

“That’s not good.”

We both stared at this problem together, sick and sad.

Finally, I suggested, “Go see if the upstairs neighbor left a faucet on. I’ll try to call maintenance.”

He left and I started making calls. At 10pm it was understandable that I was getting a lot of voicemails. Two maintenance lines deep, Brendan returned.

“The people above us are getting drops too, and the place above that won’t respond.”

Four defunct numbers later, I finally got ahold of an emergency maintenance guy who was on call. “It’s raining in our bathroom.”

He was befuddled and said he’d be in soon.

That was about when it really actually started raining. Drips began pouring out of light fixtures. Terrified, we turned off the lights we could, setting out bowls and towels to mitigate water damage. Water dripped from several lights and started pooling ominously in the long flat kitchen light.

The maintenance man arrived around midnight. There was bowls and buckets littering the ground as Brendan and I watched in abject misery as water filled them. The maintenance man was wildly out of his depth, having been left in sole charge while the entire rest of the staff was on vacation.

As we spoke to him, the water infiltrated our smoke alarm which began screaming in earnest at this wet invasion. The maintenance man promised to try to see what was causing the issue and fled. Brendan and I regarded each other. We coughed, sick and exhausted, then went to empty the water buckets.

An hour passed. The smoke alarm persisted, it’s three shrill screeches pounded relentlessly into our ear drums. We stopped existing as individuals and became vessels of suffering. The paint in the bathroom started sloughing off the wall in wet ripples.

Brendan tried to rouse the neighbor again and returned unsuccessful.

The maintenance man returned. It was 1am. He couldn’t get ahold of the apartment causing the flooding. He couldn’t get ahold of his bosses. After the update he made to leave and we begged him, please, just make the beeping stop, please. It can rain inside, and I can get no sleep the night before midterms, and I can cough miserably all night while I empty water bowls, but please, god, please, just make the beeping stop.

He promised to try and left. At some point around then, the flat kitchen light shattered under the pressure and gushed out a fall of water. Brendan and I gave a bleak half hearted startle and tried to scrounge up more towels.

I started slipping into madness. The unceasing blaring beeps. The rain. The misery of being in this wretched situation with someone I used to be able to reach toward for comfort who I couldn’t anymore. This was hell, I decided. This circumstance fits into how they torture people, and I live here in this torturescape now. The maintenance man was never coming back.

The maintenance man came back with a ladder eventually.

Brendan and I watched with blank hungry eyes as he fussed with the alarm and at 2am it finally ceased its shrieking klaxon of madness. I cried. The man left again. We emptied the bowls.

And finally, half an hour later, the rain began to abate. The maintenance man returned to inform us that he’d entered the upstairs unit.

Someone had become incapacitated and left their bath running. He was not at liberty to disclose what happened so presumably someone was sauced out of their gourd and fell into a deep stupor such that several hours of sustained door pounding couldn’t rouse them.

People all down the row flooded, and he looked near tears himself. We thanked him and went to collapse into bed. Neither of us took midterms the next day.

Brendan and I are still friends to this day, even after a night fit to drive someone mad.

My last event of apartment flooding was a sewer main getting blocked. It was when my betrothed and I had just started dating and they were hanging out at my place while I was at work. Due to this good fortune, they were able to move my couch, entertainment system, and electronics out of the path of the flood.

It took a week and some extremely pointed emails to get the landlord to comp me rent for the week I couldn’t live there and the entire time I was just thankful I wasn’t stuck with water dripping from my lights while a fire alarm drove me to the brink of madness.

#ramblies #storytime #funny #funny story #writing #honestly just have some schadenfreude #cause it’s fucking funny now to look back on it #ffs foibles #curse #raining #flooding

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yeonzzzn · 10 months ago

Note

I love your writing. I have a request that is based on something I read from another writer about another group. So if you don't feel comfortable writing it, I totally understand. I am just interested to know what you think of the scenario in which y/n is the 8 member of ENHA and she bets the Hyung line that she can guess who they are just by the way they have sex with her while she's blindfolded.

Alternatively, how about a scenario in which the Hyung line each take y/n on a separate date but they have a bet amongst themselves that they won't be the first to fuck y/n. But they're all down bad for y/n and the struggle is real. They all want each other to fold so they can have you. Who do you think would win the bet?

MUCH LOVE AND PRAISE. 🥰

god I LOVE the one of yn guessing which hyung member based on how they have sex with her while blindfolded.

I just KNOW the moment you even bet the hyung line you could guess who was who by the way they fuck would be driving each of them up a wall. The four of them would have to have a secret meeting together, discussing whether or not to even go through with this. mostly because you’re the 8th member of their group, you are so precious to them and so deserving and so so so kind to them and deal with their bullshit on the daily…but oh god how could they pass this up? the opportunity to fuck you? to ruin you one by one with their cocks while blindfolded? it was so hot to them. they would be stupid to turn it down.

once they decide to take you up on the offer, the boys will have to establish some rules, this was all an experiment after all.

the first rule being that the members can ONLY fuck you once. yes there can be multiple rounds after you guess who they are, but after the time is up they can’t do it again, not until each member has had their turn. each fuck has to be spaced out a couple days to keep you from being sore or completely fucked out.

the second rule is each member IS allowed to kiss you and touch you in anyway they want during sex, they just can’t speak, moan, groan, growl, hiss, whimper, nothing. not a sound until after you guess who they are if you are indeed, correct.

the third rule is none of the members can interrupt. no. matter. what. it could miss up the game on you guessing and show acts of jealousy, which no one wants.

the fourth rule is all four of them have to be in the know when it’s time to fuck you. none of them can randomly come up behind you and slap a blindfold over your eyes and rail you without the other men knowing. it’s cheating, mostly if you are in a situation that it’s obvious on which member it is. they also have to discus with you on when it’s a good time to even experiment, every party has to be in the know and okay.

the fifth rule being the other members couldn’t be present when the other gets to fuck. this is another way to keep interruption from happening or if the boys decide to pull their hard cocks from their pants while watching you get railed and jerk themselves off and accidentally making any noises.

the sixth rule is neither of the boys can touch you in anyway, shape or form after they’ve had sex with you. once their cocks have been inside you, you become off limits. it’s another way to make sure jealousy doesn’t happen and to keep the game fair for the other men waiting for their fuck.

the seventh and final rule is being no hard feelings in the end. because if you choose to have sex with one of them again(or even all four of them again) they each have to respect it. if you catch feelings along the way too for one of them, they have to respect it. but that is only a BIG IF on if the situation even takes that route. because you could literally just be looking to get railed by them and have some fun.

which honestly you are. the four of them are the sexiest men you’ve ever seen and you get to look at them everyday, why wouldn’t you want each of them to impale you with their cocks? plus you know each of them like the back of your hand, guessing who was who wouldn’t be a challenge.

you honestly would look forward to it each time. you knew the minute the four of them came up to you with those smirks on their faces that they agreed to the experiment and challenge, a blindfold already in one of their hands signaling that it starts right now.

each time they’ll have you put the blindfold on yourself. the boys will draw straws before hand on who gets to go first to make it fair and have it not be in any specific order.

you knew the minute his hands and lips were on yours that it was jake who drew the lucky straw first. the way his hands squeezed your waist and plump lips kissed you, it was obvious from the start. jake is a big tits guy and very big on doggy, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. The way he flips your naked body over to fuck you from behind with both his hands squeezing your breasts, biting his lips to keep from moaning out on how pleasurable your cunt was wrapped around him. “I know it’s you jakey,” you cooed, “lemme hear you,” god jake would be fucking losing his mind as he pounded into you faster, letting every moan he was holding back escape his lips as he snatches that blindfold off your eyes, placing his hand at the front of your neck to lift you up, his chest connecting to your back, making eye contact with you as he pumps his cock in and out of you, “fuck baby girl,” he growls in your ear, his tongue licking and biting at the lobe, “know me so well just by how I fuck into you, ya? with how I touch and kiss you. fuck yn” the gentleness jake once had with you was out the window as his hips snapped into place against your ass, the fingers that were wrapped around your neck now found their home inside your mouth, and his other fingers circling your clit until you came around him and he was spilling into you.

a few days will go by when the other three approach you, blindfold in hand to repeat the process. you blindfold yourself, they draw the straw and the other were sent out of the room. once again you knew who he was immediately just by the way he pins your arms above your head as his fingers interlock with yours, kissing you so tenderly with so much love. jay is such a lover boy, his hips slowly rocking against yours as he shoved his tongue down your mouth, hands squeezing yours tightly with each thrust into you. you pulled your hands from his grip, wrapping your legs around his waist and sliding your fingers into his hair, finding his ear with the darkness of the blindfold, “jay,” you whine, feeling his cock twitch inside you, “fuck me harder.” jay loved hearing his name fall from your lips the way it did, knowing just by how you called to him and how your body reacts that he was making you feel so fucking good. “shit baby,” he chuckles in your ear, sliding his lips down to your neck and back up to your ear, “your wish is my command.” he pumped himself harder into you, staying at his slow pace. his hands gripped the bedsheets when he felt your legs tightening around him and the clench of your cunt. as much as jay loved making love to you like this, he wanted to make a mess of you, mostly after you guessed right on who he was? it was so fucking hot at how well you knew him sexually even when neither of you have ever acted or spoken in any sexual way together. jay didn’t hesitate to slide his arms underneath you so he would grip onto your shoulders as he fucked into you faster and harder than before, using his teeth to pull the blindfold off from your face so you could stare back at him as you came undone on his cock, watching him as he clenched his jaw and groaned out strings of “fuck” as he shot his seed inside you.

another few days press on by, the remaining two stood before you handing out the blindfold. repeat. repeat. repeat. with the way you were pressed against the door of your room, legs spread wide by his knees, the hand he had at the back of your neck as he pressed the side of your face into the wood of the door and fucked into you at a primal rate you knew as sunghoon. he was rough as he railed you against the door, shit he was rough since the beginning. with how he pulled you from your bed and slammed you to the door and how his hands roamed, it was no doubt sunghoon. he had you moaning his name after the first few hard thrusts into you. his chest touching your back and flinging the blindfold off, “no need for this anymore,” he groaned. sunghoon knew you would guess him quickly, needing to rid that blindfold quickly so he can see the full expressions of your face as he ruined you, “come on baby, keep screaming my name. tell me how good I am giving it to you. let them know how fucking good hoonie is giving it to you.” sunghoon knew the other men were listening, he planned on it too. with the way he was fucking you against the door and how it slammed against the frame, how could they not be listening? sunghoon made it his mission to have you screaming he know within seconds of sliding himself inside you. he’d heard the moans that came from your mouth when jake and jay fucked you, he sure as hell wanted them to hear how loud your voice was getting just by his cock. somewhere along the way it became a competition to see who could get you moaning the loudest and honestly, you were here for it. “hoonie,” you screamed, feeling the drool leave your lips and slide down the door. “fuck yn, being so good for me, taking me so well.” it didn’t take much longer until you released on his cock and his movements getting sloppily until his final thrust had him unloading into you.

the last final days passed on, heeseung appeared into your bedroom and closing the door behind him. there honestly wasn’t any need for the blindfold anymore, heeseung was the last to get his dick wet and either way you’d know it was him. after each fuck the boys gathered to discuss what happened, they knew they would lose against you. you guess each of them perfectly one by one, which is where the contest of seeing who could get you to moan the loudest came into play. even though heeseung was last, it was still only fair he gets his turn. he sat on the edge of your bed, pulling you into his lap and was immediately hard at the sight of the way you straddled him. he placed his hand against the side of your neck, bringing you in to connect his lips to yours, “I’m going to take my time with you,” he whispered in between kisses, loving the way you moaned into his mouth at those words. he rid you and him of your clothes slowly one by one until the two of you were skin against skin, getting turned on just by feeling your flesh against his. heeseung moaned out your name softly as you slid down onto him, his fingers digging into your hips. heeseung didn’t care one bit that he was the last to fuck you. didn’t care about the stupid competition of who could get your vocals the loudest. didn’t care that the rules had to be bent in his favor. because honestly, heeseung was the real winner here. he still got to fuck you, got to fuck you properly at that. he didn’t have to keep his moans down or suppress them until you took a guess. he was able to be as vocal as he wanted from the moment he walked into your room. he got to make eye contact with you the entire time as he felt you up, as you rode his dick and squeezed his shoulders for support. heeseung just knew the other losers were losing their fucking shit as they stood at the other side of the door. heeseung didn’t need to get you screaming at the top of your lungs for the others to know you were fucking his cock into oblivion. “seungie,” you moaned and flung your head back, legs getting weak and shakey, “what it is my love?” he cooed, knowing damn well what it was you wanted, “wanna cum? hmm? want to come undone around seungie’s cock?” you nodded, whimpering out a “please hee,” and that’s all it took. heeseung sat up straighter, wrapping both arms around your body, using every last bit of strength in his hips and legs to fuck up into you. you slid your fingers into his hair, resting the side of your head against his, screaming his name as he hit into your g-spot. oh fuck heeseung was losing himself inside you, his head going dizzy from the pleasure. you no doubt were screaming and moaning louder than the other three got you. you were so loud heeseung was afraid he might lose his hearing in that ear, oh but fuck it would be so worth it. because again, heeseung was the real winner here. was the real winner as he made you come undone on his cock, your cum dripping out of you and sliding down his thighs. the real winner as he moaned out your name when his seed painted your gummy walls white.

jealousy was unavoidable, unfortunately. each of the four boys getting caught up in their feelings for you and how fucking good your pussy felt wrapped around them. but alas, you proved you knew each and every single one of them by how they fuck, only feeding into their egos when you tell you you undoubtably wanted them to fuck you again and again and again and again. each of the four of them brought something to the table when it came to pleasuring you, how could you deny that pleasure? mostly when you have four sexy men drooling over you and your sex. it was well worth it to challenge them.

#yeonzzzn asks #enhypen #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #heeseung #lee heeseung #jay #jay park #park jay #park jongseong #jake #sim jake #jake sim #sim jaeyun #sunghoon #park sunghoon #yeonzzzn writing

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moonlight-records · 11 months ago

Text

Take a break | LS2

pairing: logan sargent x reader

summary: its launch day for williams and your boyfriend so overwhelmed and tired you decide to give him a quick pick me up

warnings: smut: oral (f & m receiving), sorta sub!logan & dom!reader, no protection (wrap your willy sillies!), praise kink, breath play (didn't intend for that one), breeding kink, basically porn with a semi plot??

a/n: uh, haven't written smut in a long time let alone f/m smut so PLEASE be gentle with me here! also i'll admit, writing scene with eating out is NOT my strong suit but i'm trying to get better! again, no proofreading, we die like men!

wc: 2.8K

Launch days were something you weren’t particularly familiar with for a multitude of reasons. The first reason was you hadn’t been a long time fan of F1 as you had recently gotten into the sport a little into the 2023 season more as something to have on in the background. The second reason is because you were so new to this world of motorsports, you had no idea what the pre-season would entail. The third reason is because the only reason you got into the world of F1 was because of your boyfriend, Logan Sargent.

You happened to be on a trip with some friends in Miami even after hearing many horror stories about how Miami usually ruins friendships. That was not you and your friends though. Instead you and your friends had made a very important note to have dedicated alone time so you all didn’t end up kill each other and it was proving to be a great key to this vacation. During your shopping, you had bumped into someone and turned around to apologize the same time Logan did. The two of you laughed and went your separate ways. You had told your friends about the encounter and how you regretted not continuing the conversation but you were too embarrassed. They reassured you that they would find this mysterious blonde man for you.

None of you had to try very hard as you and your friends decided to go to a club Sunday night after the Grand Prix and it just happened to be the same one a lot of the drivers ended up going to. You ran into Logan again, literally, and this time you actually kept the conversation going. One thing lead to another (as well as finding out he was an F1 driver and causing you to go down this rabbit hole to understand his work more) and by summer break you had been on four dates before he officially asked you to be his partner. By winter break, you were comfortable enough for him to announce the relationship and even with the mixed reviews from fans neither of you let it affect your relationship. If anything, it made your relationships stronger. It helped that Alex and Lily were super supportive and helpful the moment you two went public.

Lily especially. She had been nothing but kind and supportive the moment you two went public. She went on about how sweet Logan is and how she was ecstatic for him to finally have met someone who wanted him for him and not because he was a famous world driver. She was also over the moon to have a WAG on the team (yes she even took the time to explain what was a WAG was to you) and that she finally had someone to sit with during races and chat with during events like this.

Which is how you found yourself sorta following Lily around like a lost puppy to really grasp the rope of things before the two of you found yourself huddled together as the launch happened. It was fun. There was a kid named William outside with a sign that said ‘My name is William too!’ They actually brought him in for the launch and even had him sit in the car. You smiled seeing the kid beam at the two of them and Logan happily chatting with him when he wasn’t pulled away to be in front of the camera.

After the launch, Alex and Logan were heading down to Central Park to continue filming so you and Lily decided to have a little afternoon together. You two went shopping, had lunch, and just explored as the two of you chatted about anything and everything. You guys were stopped a bit for pictures, which was expected with Lily, but you? That surprised you but also warmed your heart and you happily took the photos. Then you two arrived at the hotel and parted ways before the meet and greet where you’d probably be off to the side with her once again just watching and interacting with fans.

You were mindlessly flipping through channels on the TV when you heard a faint whirling noise before the door was opened. Looking over you saw your boyfriend and a smile tugged to your lips. Shifting, you sit next on the edge of the bed as Logan comes padding over. The smile turns into a small frown seeing the state of him. “You okay?” You ask. He grunts in response as he stands between your legs and you rub his arms soothingly.

“Come sit,” you gently pull Logan down next to you. Immediately, the American is pulling you into his lap and burying his face into your neck. Running your fingers through his hair, you kiss his temple gentle as he grumbles about how long days like this were and how tiring they were and he wanted nothing more than to stay here. You bit your lip gentle wanting to reassure him that it would be over soon but knew he had so much more socializing to do and he was near his wits end.

Then, an idea hit you.

“Tell me more,” you comment as you wiggle out of his lap and kneel behind him to give him a massage. You feel him relax under your touch and you smile gently as you continue. It’s a nice gesture but it’s mainly a distraction. When he’s relaxed enough you pull away as he continues to ramble as you slide off the bed and move to stand between his legs. Gently pushing him on the bed Logan’s let out a small huff of a laugh as he tosses an arm over his eyes. Perfect. Stripping out of your pants and panties, you crawl onto the bed and swat his arm away. The second his arm is to his side you’re swinging a leg over, trapping his head between his thighs and sitting down.

It takes a millisecond for Logan to realize what’s going on before you groan feeling his tongue on your clit. Your hands fly to his hair for purchase as he happily runs his tongue over your clit. Long slow strokes before short kitten licks. It sends a shiver of pleasure up your body as you buck your hips forward. His hands quickly find your thighs gripping tightly as he traps you. You tilt your head back groaning loudly as you roll your hips as you two find your rhythm quickly since Logan loves being between your thighs.

You let praises fall from your lips between the moans and gasps falling from your face. It should be illegal with how good Logan is from your clit to your cunt as he opens you up with his tongue. Even though you guys haven’t been together for long he had made it his mission to learn your body inside and out. How you liked him switching between slow licks and fast licks. How your eyes rolled when he teased your clit with circles before sucking. How your hips bucked when he slipped his tongue in and slowly fucked you open. How if he tilted his head back just enough he could get deeper brushing against your g-spot, causing you to throw your head back and let out the most delicious sounds. How if he switched the routine up it drove you mad and close to your orgasm which he was very much intending to do but that’s not on your agenda.

Your chest was heaving as you felt the familiar coil starting to form in your abdomen. You force yourself to let go of his hair to wedge your fingers under his and pries his hands off your thighs before you lift yourself up. Looking down, you wish you could take a picture but a mental one will do. Logan’s hair was wild against the sheets, eyes wide and pupils blown. His face was flushed a beautiful shade of pink and his mouth and chin was shiny with your juices. His fingers twitched in your hands as he stared up at you neither one daring to move as he whines. He became such a beautiful mess so quickly for you.

“Yes?”

“I need—” he gulps slightly.

“You need what?” You tease.

His mouth opens and then closes as he tries to find the words. You know exactly what he wants and you’re tempted to give it to him, “stay,” you command as your grip on his hands loosens so you can easily move off of him and slink off the bed and onto the floor.

“Sit up,” you say while stroking the inside of his thigh and he does looking down at you. Looking up at him, you wrap your lips around the tip of his cock and he groans tipping his head back slightly. You swirl your tongue around the tip before flattening your tongue along the underside of his cock. Hallowing your cheeks, you start to bob your head. You watch his hands start to go to your hair but stop knowing better than to touch without permission so he grabs the sheets as if it’s a life line. You place your hands on his thighs to steady yourself as you continue prepping yourself. He’s babbling above you begging for more. He’s not specific with what he wants but that’s typical for him.

When you’re relaxed you happily take him down your throat, nose against his navel, and Logan throws his head back letting out a moan. Internally, you smirk at how loud he was. Usually he tried to be reserved and letting himself be focused on your pleasure but today was about him. You pull off to the tip before going straight back down and he tenses to keep himself still knuckles white from how hard he was holding onto the sheets. You continue for a bit longer before you pull off with a pop before standing.

“Lay down,” you say gesturing to the pillows and Logan scrambles laying on his back as his head hits the pillow. You wince for him since he was so close to hitting the headboard but it was a miracle he didn’t. That would’ve been one way to kill the mood and end the day for sure. Getting onto the bed, you straddle your boyfriend who’s breathing heavily from anticipation. Smirking at the mess you’ve already made of him, you grab the base of his cock and line yourself up before sliding down.

In unison you both groan as you put your hands on his chest for leverage. Once you’re bottomed out you take a moment to adjust. You start to move your hips in small circles sucking your bottom lip between your teeth as Logan turns his head to the side, groaning again.

“Babe I—”

“Shhh, I know. It’s okay,” you murmur as you run your hands over his chest, “I got you. Just lay there and let me hear all your pretty noises. Can you do that for me?”

Logan whines in response again.

“Logan.”

“Yes,” he breaths out, “Yes I—I can do that.”

“Good boy.”

Raising your hips you sink back down and tilt your head back. It’s been a while since you two have actually had time to have sex and it felt like the first time all over again. Just with how well he filled you up and it felt like a punch to the gut (pun intended…maybe). You start out with this slow rhythm hearing how Logan groaned and moaned under you whining and asking for more.

You work yourself on his cock picking up the pace as you go. You lean back, gasping at the new angle as your hands find purchase on his thighs. “Oh fuck—” you manage out between the moans. “Yes, fuck yes baby so good.” You ramble on as his head tosses to the side, hands gripping the pillows, the sheets, anything that isn’t you.

“I—fuck babe—please—” Logan gasps.

“Please what?”

“Let me touch you. Fuck. Babe. Please. Please please please,” he begs, “need to touch you. Please, shit, babe you look so good riding me, please,” He begs, “been so good for you.”

“Such a good boy,” you purr out, “okay.”

His hands fly to your hips. His eyes trained on you. How your lips are parted. The slight sweat starting to form on your forehead as your hair sticks to it. How your eyes are fluttering close.

“Let me move. Please baby,” he begs, “you’ve done so much work,” he’s rambling, “wanna make you feel good. Please let me make you feel good. God fuck babe I wanna make you feel good.”

You’re lost in your own little world as Logan rambles on. You’re so close of finding that spot and you shift to lean forward, hands back on his chest. One hand fumbles but it covers Logan’s mouth as you continue, slamming your hips down on him. Your eyes go wide and you see stars when you find it, throwing your head back as you continue. “Fuck—oh right there. Shit—” you moan out as you fall into an endless cycle of moans, groans, and cursing. You can feel Logan’s lips against your hand still moving but between your own noises and the absolutely filthy obscene noises you two were making it was drowned out.

Your body is on fire. Your legs are straining and you’re getting tired but you continue. You feel the coil forming once again and your hand drops to Logan’s throat as you wrap your hand around, squeezing slightly. He lets out a strangled gasp mostly out of shock before he moans. “You—fuck—” you breath heavily, “yes move.”

Logan did not need to be told twice. Gripping your hips tight enough that will surely leave bruises, not that you really minded, he snapped his hips up when you came down. You screamed - you’re pretty sure you did but you can’t be quiet to sure with the stars you were seeing and everything else drowning out expect Logan’s voice. He’s thanking you over and over, telling you how amazing you are and how you treat him so so well. He matches your pace and you can’t even prepare yourself as your orgasm is ripped out of you.

You grip his throat tighter and he lets out another strangled groan. Your body shakes as you continue riding him babbling about how good he’s fucking you, how pretty he is like this, how only you get to see him like this, and how only you can make him feel this good. He’s trying to speak but it’s hard and you manage to loosen your grip. He gasps for air before the words are slipping past his lips.

“Please. Oh god please let me cum. Please I’m so—I’m so fucking close. Babe. I need—” he chokes on air as tears form, “god please.”

You feel limp. You’ve slowed your own pace down but he continues with the pace. You manage an ‘yes, you can cum’ through moans and whines. It takes three more thrust before Logan’s spilling into you, head thrown back and groaning loudly as his eyes roll in the back of his head slightly. He continues to fuck you through his own orgasm before he finally comes down.

You’re both shaking slightly at this point. You force yourself to pull off of him, feeling his cum ooze out of you as you end up collapsing on top of Logan as the two of you catch your breath. Moving his hands to your hips, he gently massages them as he kisses the top of your head. You let your eyes slip close as your breathing returns to normal smiling to yourself as you listen to his heartbeat. “Better?” You ask finally breaking the comfortable silence.

“Much better. Thank you babe, I really needed that,” he says and plants a soft kiss to your hair.

“Of course. You know all you have to do is ask.”

Logan huffs a laugh out which earns an eye roll out of you. You turn your head so you can look at him and he’s smiling at you, leaning down to kiss your nose as you wiggle it. “I know,” he says, “I’m…working on it.”

“I know, and I’m proud. But with a schedule like this you have to be more keen on making sure you’re okay. Really.”

“I know. I know,” he nods as he speaks, “now come on, we gotta get cleaned up so we can go to dinner.”

“Dinner?”

“Yeah,” Logan blinks, “the meet and greet starts at six. So I thought we could grab an early dinner at a little mom and pops diner I found. Come on,” he gently sits up with you still on his chest. You squeak when he’s got his arms under your ass and shifting before you two are standing legs instinctively wrapping around his waist with a grin, “I’m paying this time.”

“You paid last time!” You argue as he laughs taking you both to the bathroom to get clean before dinner.

#starlight library presents;#logan sargeant x reader #logan sargent smut #ls2 x reader #ls2 smut #logan sargent x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula one smut #starlight library fanfics

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sgt-tombstone · 6 months ago

Text

House Rules

Poly 141 || Explicit || 18+ MDNI!

CW: explicit sexual content, polyamory, free use

No one asked for this but I took my ADHD meds today so it got written anyway. This isn't beta read or proofread so ignore any mistakes (or tell me about them so I can fix them lmao)

Let me know if you guys want me to post this to ao3, it's not my usual fare but I'd be willing to post it if you'd like!

————

When Johnny officially started dating Simon, he knew that the other man was in an open relationship. He had never given polyamory much thought before--it had never held much appeal to him, and he always thought himself far too jealous to share his partner with anyone else--but with Simon, it was different from the beginning.

At first, he had missed the part of Simon's dating profile that indicated his relationship status, and by the time he finally did notice the little line--poly and partnered--Johnny had already made up his mind about the man. He was funny and sweet, sickeningly romantic, even as confined to the little dating app chat box as they were. There was no indication that Simon was looking to add another number to his polycule; he told Johnny outright, when questioned, that he was perfectly fine keeping their relationship neatly sequestered, separate from Simon's other relationships. He was attentive and devoted, never making Johnny feel needy or burdensome, even when Johnny took up entire hours of his time messaging back and forth, and Johnny often found himself forgetting that he wasn't the sole recipient of Simon's attention.

When they finally arranged an in-person meeting after a month of daily, sometimes hourly, back-and-forth, they simply... clicked. Johnny mocked Simon for his preference for tea, Simon affectionately tugged on Johnny's mohawk, and when they left the little coffee shop, neither of them wanted the bubble to burst just yet, so Simon tugged Johnny closer and led him to a nearby park. They strolled for hours, tucked against each other's sides to stave off the mid-winter chill, and Johnny marveled at how well he fit pressed against Simon.

Eventually, he got curious. Simon occasionally mentioned his other partners, always in passing, always casually, but always fondly. Johnny knew that there were two others--an older man named Price and a man close to Johnny's own age named Kyle, though Simon always called him Gaz--and he found himself more and more willing to meet them. More than willing, even. Eager. He wanted to know the people in Simon's life that made him so happy, wanted to be friendly with them, if not friends. So, four months after his and Simon's first date, he broached the subject and, two weeks later, he found himself sitting in the very same coffee shop, Simon at his side, Price and Gaz across the table, all four of them sipping on warm drinks and sharing warm laughter.

It felt easy. It felt right.

Over the next several months, the four of them went out increasingly often together. In public, they passed their foursome off as a double date situation--society had warmed up significantly to the idea of two men dating, but the four of them attracted more attention and questions than it was worth--and Johnny felt himself drawn to the other two men in much the same way he was drawn to Simon. Price and Gaz were easy and open with their affection for Simon and had welcomed Johnny into their lives, in any capacity he chose, with open arms. He supposed that was why it was called an open relationship. He didn't pry much into their personal relationships with each other; it was enough for him to know that Simon was happy, that Simon was surrounded by people who took care of him, that Simon loved him just as much as the other two men in his life.

Only when Simon broached the idea of Johnny moving in with him did he learn the whole truth.

'Free use,' Simon had said, and Johnny hadn't even known what that was. They had sat in Johnny's shitty flat, tucked together on the couch, TV on for background noise and empty takeout boxes strewn across the coffee table, and Simon had explained it. He lived with Price and Gaz, each with their own bedroom and bathroom, and they shared each other, whenever they wanted, as often as they wanted. There were house rules, of course, boundaries in place to keep everything safe and consensual, and if Johnny agreed to move in with them, he'd both be bound by those rules and have the ability to add his own, even going so far as to place himself off-limits if he wished.

For all of his hesitation, Johnny couldn't say that he wasn't intrigued. Or interested. There was something inherently compelling about the sense of freedom that Simon's explanation had conveyed. The more he thought about it, the more interested he became. He had always had some exhibitionist and voyeuristic tendencies, had always loved the thrill of the attention and the risk of getting caught, but he had never considered...

He took several weeks to think about it, which Simon enthusiastically supported, and during those weeks, he jerked off more often than he'd ever admit to idea. The thought of Price or Gaz walking in while Simon fucked him over the kitchen table, continuing a conversation with each other as if one of them wasn't getting railed right in front of them never failed to get him hard in record time, and he found himself moaning all three names equally often whenever he came.

Moving was made easy by four sets of hands instead of just one or two, especially when all four men were roughly the size of refrigerators with functional muscles to match. Their house was massive. Five bedrooms, seven bathrooms, a living room big enough to play hurling in, a kitchen that had seemingly jumped straight out of an interior design magazine, and a backyard framed entirely by privacy fencing and several rows of bushes tall and thick enough to shield the entire property from prying eyes.

The first night he was there, all four of them sat down at the kitchen table over dinner and explained the house rules:

everyone wore a colored bracelet at all times. Green indicated a willingness to engage in free use, though that consent could always be revoked. Yellow indicated the desire to be present and watch, but not the desire to be an active participant. Red indicated off-limits, which meant that no free use could take place when they were in the room.

the kitchen was off-limits, especially when someone was actively cooking

if a door was closed, that room and everyone in it were off-limits unless someone was specifically invited in

everyone in the house got STD tested once per month as well as before and after every sexual situation with someone outside of the house

There were others, mundane rules that Johnny had lived with enough roommates to feel comfortable with the gist of; everyone pitched in with chores, everyone contributed equally to utilities, and everyone kept the noise to a minimum, with a few obvious exceptions.

The first night was calm. Simon led Johnny back to his room, since Johnny's wasn't fully unpacked yet, and handed him his three bracelets, tucking the red one securely in place around his wrist.

"You can take it off whenever you like," he said, "but keep it on until you're comfortable."

They moved around each other effortlessly, changing into sleep clothes and getting ready for bed. Simon pulled Johnny under the covers, kissed the top of his head, and they both fell asleep wrapped in each other's embrace.

Johnny woke up alone, warm sunlight streaming through the window, and the events of yesterday flashed through his mind. He didn't even try to smother his grin. As he opened Simon's bedroom door, intent on making himself a cup of coffee, he was greeted with the unmistakable sound of someone getting fucked within an inch of their lives, their moans drifting up the house's staircase, and he quickly exchanged his red bracelet for yellow.

When he reached the bottom step and turned to the kitchen, his jaw dropped at the sight. Price had Gaz bent over the kitchen island, both stark naked except for their bright green bracelets, Price's cock buried to the hilt in Gaz's ass. Simon stood on the other side, clothed in a soft black shirt, black boxers, and a yellow bracelet to match Johnny's. His elbows were braced on the counter out of morning laziness instead of sexual pleasure, and he held Price's gaze easily as they chatted. Every once in a while, one of them would sip from the steaming mugs next to them, or Gaz would let out a truly pornographic moan, but for the most part, it looked utterly domestic, as if it were entirely normal, their usual morning routine. With a jolt, Johnny realized that it was and now, it was his too.

When Simon noticed him standing in the doorway, his eyes automatically flicked down to his wrist, checking the color of his bracelet before his face split in a grin. Johnny knew it wasn't a reward for changing it; Simon would've grinned at his arrival even if he had been wearing a red bracelet, but it felt like warm validation in his chest nonetheless.

"I made you coffee," he said, pushing himself upright and nudging one of the mugs across the marble counter. His words drew Price and Gaz's attention, and they turned to greet him with warm smiles of their own. Gaz even raised his head slightly, lifting a hand to wave lazily before his eyes rolled back in his head in tandem with one of Price's slow thrusts. Johnny stepped fully into the kitchen, tucking himself easily against Simon's side when the man raised his arm in invitation. He sipped the coffee and groaned at the taste.

"Good?" Price asked, and Johnny nodded.

"Better be," Simon grumbled good-naturedly. "Spent a bloody fortune on that coffee maker, old man."

"Switch that bracelet out and I'll show you how old I am, you muppet," Price said with a laugh.

"Might take you up on that," Simon said, the arm wrapped around Johnny's shoulders tightening as his eyes hazed over slightly.

"Speaking of age," Gaz mumbled, "I'm not getting any younger here."

"Poor baby," Price cooed. "You just woke up, don't tell me you're tired already."

"Tired of you yappin' instead of puttin' your fuckin' back into it," Gaz slurred, earning a chuckle from the three men standing around him. Johnny choked on his coffee when Price dropped one of the hands on Gaz's hips to wrap around Gaz's cock, hidden by the countertop but Gaz's deep, drawn-out moan was unmistakable. Price's thrusts sped up, too, each slap of his hips against Gaz's ass pulling a breathless whine out of the younger man. Saliva pooled on the countertop where his cheek was pressed against the cool marble, his mouth open in a desperate attempt to draw in as much oxygen as possible while Price did his level best to punch every air molecule from his lungs with his cock alone.

It was the hottest thing Johnny had ever seen. By the time Gaz came with a high-pitched keen, Johnny's coffee was entirely forgotten and he was hard in his sweatpants. He didn't notice how heavily he was breathing until Simon's hand came to rest at the nape of his neck, his nose finding the sensitive spot behind his ear.

"Alright, Johnny?"

Johnny could only nod, transfixed by the sight in front of him. Price pulled out and dropped to his knees, pulling Gaz's cheeks apart with his strong hands, undoubtedly checking for any injuries. He soothed Gaz's displeased whines with slow, firm strokes of his palms against the man's ass and thighs, then stood and pulled Gaz upright.

"Gonna get this one in the shower," he said, obviously directing his words towards Simon and Johnny, but his attention never wavered from the man in his arms.

Once they disappeared up the stairs, Johnny half-turned and half-collapsed against Simon, resting his temple against the taller man's collarbone, sharp even through the soft shirt.

"Jesus wept," he swore, and Simon chuckled as he pressed a kiss to the top of Johnny's mohawk. "Is it always that..."

"Hot?" Simon guessed. "Usually, yeah."

Johnny didn't know how he was going to survive.

Over the course of several months, he settled into the routine of the house. There was a clear dynamic, one that he quickly found his place in. Gaz and Price had been the original couple, so they were the most comfortable with each other, and they could usually be found wrapped in or around each other. It wasn't out of the ordinary to find Gaz cockwarming Price as the older man talked on the phone or folded laundry, and it was equally common to find Price bent over the back of the couch, impaled on Gaz's cock as the younger man played video games. Simon had been the newest addition before Johnny, and it was obvious that Price had been the one to bring him into the fold. He exclusively bottomed for Price and exclusively topped for Gaz, and both left him sated and satisfied.

As for Johnny... he found his niche in being anything anyone wanted him to be. He and Simon had already found their rhythm as switches, so he was completely unsurprised by Simon's preferences in the house, even if he didn't adhere to the same strictness that Simon did. He had no qualms about eating his breakfast around the broad span of Gaz's shoulders as the man squirmed in his lap, nor did he hold any reservations about letting Price sink to his knees to take him in his mouth as he and Gaz played mario kart in the living room. The first time that Simon had seen Price submit so easily to Johnny had been the single most erotic afternoon of Johnny's life and had left him unable to walk without limping for several days.

He spent most of his time with Simon, the two of them sleeping in the same room more often than not, but he maintained his own space, curating his bedroom to his own tastes, ensuring that he always had a comforting place to retreat to if he needed to. Whenever any of them wore their red bracelets--a fairly frequent occurence, Johnny learned, considering his own slowly growing sense of comfort and the collective traumas of all four of them--the entire house simmered down to calm domesticity. They would play video games or watch movies, fully clothed but often pressed together in a puddle of limbs and warmth. Johnny learned that they were all hopelessly competitive, which led to some borderline violent game nights, but they always ended in laughter and soft kisses pressed to developing bruises gifted by flying elbows and knees. Strip poker was their favorite game, when everyone was wearing their green bracelets, and Johnny very quickly learned that he and Gaz would never stand a chance against the two older men, which was often more fun anyway.

A year after moving in, Gaz came home one day with a blinding grin that only got wider when he caught sight of Johnny reclined on the couch, his back pressed against Simon's chest, his legs spread obscenely over Simon's thighs. Simon's cock was nestled firmly inside of him and his arms were wrapped firmly around his bare chest, both of them holding video game controllers and focusing intently on the TV. Price was knelt between both pairs of their legs, his arms on either side of their thighs, his mouth wrapped around Johnny's cock, warming him just as well as Johnny was warming Simon.

At the sound of his entrance, Simon and Johnny paused their game and looked up, smiling in greeting. The look on his face, though, piqued their interest, and Simon raised a questioning brow.

"I went on a date today," Gaz said, unable to wipe the grin off of his face. "His name is Gary, and I think you guys will really like him."

Price lifted his head, pulling off of Johnny's cock with a lewd pop, and wiped his mouth and mustache with the back of his hand before turning to Gaz.

"You thinkin' about introducin' us?"

"I'd like to," Gaz confirmed. "We have an extra bedroom..."

"Is this how quickly you wanted to adopt me after our first date?" Johnny asked, turning his head to press the question into Simon's temple.

"Yeah, pretty much," Simon replied with a shrug. "Took you a bit to come 'round to the idea, but we were willing to wait for you."

"What do you say, lovebirds?" Price said, turning to the two men on the couch. "Open to adding to our numbers?"

"Five's a good number, sir," Simon said.

"Five's my favorite number," Johnny added, and Gaz held up his phone with a giggle.

"I'll invite him out for coffee," he said eagerly, his fingers already flying over the keyboard. As soon as the text was--presumably--sent, he tossed his phone onto the carpeted floor, toed off his shoes, and collapsed onto the couch. Simon resumed their game and Price resumed his cockwarming, causing Gaz to groan.

"You guys are no fun," he complained. "Left me with nothing to do."

"Play with us," Johnny said, motioning to the spare controller on the table. "If you win, I'm sure Price would be willing to give you a prize."

He felt Price's groan more than he heard it as Gaz scrambled to connect the other controller, easily falling back into their good-natured competitiveness, and he wondered--not for the first time--how he got so lucky. He had three partners who adored him and each other, who were devoted to taking care of him and each other. He had one cock inside of him, had his own cock inside someone else, and would probably have more than that by the end of the night, if Gaz's hungry gaze was any indication. Before long, there would likely be a fifth, because Gaz was an excellent judge of character, and if he liked someone, the rest of the house was sure to as well. Johnny couldn't wait.

He tilted his head to the side, catching Gaz's eye, and the two of them had the same thought at the same time. Johnny paused the game, ignoring Simon's sound of distress in favor of tossing his controller to the side and tangling his fingers in Price's hair, the only warning he got before Johnny was flexing his hips, simultaneously lifting himself off of Simon's cock and pushing his own deeper into Price's throat. Simon's disappointed groan morphed quickly into one of pure lust as Gaz surged forward to lick into his mouth. Johnny set a brutal pace, alternating between fucking into Price's mouth and sinking deep onto Simon's cock with every movement. It felt like heaven, especially with the sound of Simon and Gaz panting into each other's mouths in between kisses just behind him.

Simon and Gaz let their hands wander, over each other, over Johnny, and then their mouths started wandering too. Lips pressed against any bare skin they could reach, which was a lot, and he threw his head back against Simon's shoulder, baring his neck and giving them more room to work, which they took full advantage of. Gaz worked his way down Johnny's chest, licking and sucking every inch of skin from his neck to his hips, paying close attention to his nipples and the sensitive skin just above his hipbones. Simon, meanwhile, laved his tongue over the back and side of Johnny's neck, latching on like a vampire, leaving dark bruises in his wake.

When he came, it was down Price's throat, clenching tightly around Simon's cock, moaning into Gaz's mouth, and he'd never felt more cherished in his entire life.

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g1rld1ary · 7 months ago

Note

hiiii🩷 i love your work and i wanted to request a drabble. i don’t know if you’ve done something like this before or not so… also im new to the whole requesting thing.

so it’s basically a lockwood x reader where lucy and george don’t know lockwood has a kinda secret gf. and one day she shows up to the door of 35 portland row and lockwood has to explain to them that he has a girlfriend. (he didn’t tell anyone to protect her or smth).

opening doors - lockwood x reader

wc: 1980

cw: mentions of an injury, one use of 'my girl' but otherwise gn i think?

an: thanku for requesting baby!!! sorry its taken a while but i lovedddd this request and writing this!! i know i changed the end a little bit but shh hopefully its ok!! xoxo

Dating whilst ghosts roamed the streets of London was hard. Dinner dates were a precarious decision and you had to be sure if you were spending the night pretty quickly for your own safety (against ghosts, men were still another question). Dating a ghost hunter? That was harder. Yes, he wasn't exactly a 'ghost hunter' but that was close enough from the stories your boyfriend told you; brushes with death were a common occurrence, much to your chagrin.

You couldn't count the number of times you'd sat up all night in your bedroom, waiting for a call to confirm that he was alright and alive after a case. But Lockwood was Lockwood and each time, just as your eyes were starting to close on their own, your phone would ring and you'd be startled awake, picking up as fast as your arms would let you. He'd open with an affirmation that everything was fine and he was sitting in the library with a hot cup of tea, ready for a chat with you.

This had been your routine for the six months you'd been dating, and while it had ruined your sleep schedule, you couldn't be happier. Lockwood had turned your world upside down after your chance encounter at your university while he was investigating a case, giving you adventures and the most love you'd ever felt. You were similarly obsessed with him, rambling on about your day over the phone and attaching to his hip whenever you could get together.

This was all true, except for the last four days. Lockwood told you on Sunday they had a high-paying case on Monday night and hadn't called you since. No confirmation he was alright, let alone alive, and it was killing you. He'd never forgotten, not once over six months. This ignited a panic in your stomach, anxiety clawing through your chest as you had to continue on with your week acting like you could think of anything other than your boyfriend.

On the fifth day, you'd had enough. And so, on Friday afternoon after your class had let out for the weekend, you marched to Portland Row for the very first time. Lockwood didn't want you around his business, saying he wanted to keep 'the best thing in his life' separate and as safe as possible. You didn't mind, you had a tiny apartment all to yourself that you were more than happy to host him in, but it did make your expedition more scary than it otherwise would have been.

Still, you steeled your nerves and rapped on the front door, picking your nails nervously as you waited for someone to answer. That person happened to be an unimpressed-looking boy who you recognised from Lockwood's tales as George.

"Can I help you?" He asked, wearing cartoonishly large rubber gloves that made you want to laugh.

"Is Lockwood here?" You took his lead to skip the pleasantries, none of it being even vaguely interesting to you until you knew your boyfriend was alright. George hesitated.

"He's not seeing anyone right now."

"Why not?" You all but cut him off, desperation making you forget your manners. He narrowed his eyes, clearly choosing his words clearly.

"He had a nasty accident on our last case. He's only gotten back from hospital today and is on strict bed rest. If you have a professional inquiry, you're welcome to return later or speak to me or my other colleague, Lucy Carlyle."

"Can I speak to Lucy?" You needed to talk to a girl. Clearly, George was not the most emotionally sensitive member of the company, and if you tried bartering a visit with him you had an inkling you'd start crying. If Lockwood's descriptions were anything to go off, Lucy was much more likely to understand you.

George let you in, clearly reluctantly, leading you to the kitchen. He awkwardly made you tea, leaving you to drink it silently as he went to fetch Lucy. You took the moment alone to take in the kitchen, a soft ache settling into the edges of your heart. It was so cozy, so lived in that it almost upset you. Lockwood and Lucy and George. They were the residents of 35 Portland Row, they got to wake up to one another every morning. They got to bicker over the jam and tea. You woke up alone, going about most of your days in silence unless you started talking to yourself, but you were really trying not to make that a habit.

It wasn't that you hated Lockwood keeping you a secret, it made complete sense. He was in a dangerous profession and had an even more impulsive nature, making for a risky lifestyle. And as he'd unwillingly told you, he did have people who occasionally came after him. Lockwood didn't want you caught in the crossfire and you understood, you were grateful, even. But looking at the life he led without you, you couldn't help but regret it a little bit. Portland Row was the kind of place you didn't even have to try to be able to imagine as your home.

You were interrupted by George returning with Lucy in tow, both clearly unprepared for a client. George was in some sort of cleaning gear, the aforementioned gloves and an apron over his shirt, and Lucy looked like she'd been working out but not for long, only a slight sheen on her features and her clothes still mostly light and moving.

"Hi, I'm Lucy," She greeted, a warm (if somewhat awkward) smile on her lips, "How can we help you?"

"I need to see Lockwood, please."

"You know we're not idiots, right?" George snapped, "Actually, I'm much more competent than him." Lucy shot him a dark look, elbowing him in the ribs as they sat across from you.

"What he means is that despite it being Lockwood's name on the sign, we're all fully qualified to talk to you and take your case. I'm not sure what George has said, but Lockwood is--"

"He's my boyfriend." You cut her off, unable to stand any more delay. You were met with dead silence, both agent's jaws dropped open.

"What?"

"He's my boyfriend," You affirmed, "We're dating and I need to see that he's ok."

"That's not possible." George shook his head, "He's never mentioned you."

"Not that we don't believe you, but can you tell us more? We just don't want to let any random person into our house, I'm sure you understand," Lucy added and you nodded instantly, more than aware that Lockwood had made enemies during his time with his company.

You started speaking, spilling the exact timeline of your relationship, details of your time together, vague suggestions that he'd told you about his family, anything you could think of to prove that you were really together. Then, like a lightbulb illuminating over your head, you reached into your coat pocket for your wallet. Sitting on the inside was a Polaroid of you and Lockwood, him kissing your cheek as you laughed. George grabbed it, examining it in disbelief. Even Lucy stole a glance or two before turning her focus back to you, new sympathy in her eyes.

"Will you please tell me what happened to him?" You begged, reaching out for Lucy's hand. She held yours firmly, speaking in a soft voice as she explained the incident.

"We were on a case on Monday and Lockwood took a leap down some stairs to get away from a ghost. He fractured his patella. It's fine, the doctor said he got pretty lucky all things considered, no surgery needed or anything. He was just kept in hospital for a few days because -- as I'm sure you know -- Lockwood isn't good at following instructions, especially orders not to get out of bed for a week. He only got back this morning which I assume is why he hasn't communicated with you." You nodded slowly, taking it all in.

"Can I see him, please?"

They both nodded quickly, leading you up the stairs to where you assumed Lockwood's bedroom lay. Lucy knocked before cracking the door open, smiling softly at her boss.

"We've got a guest here for you."

"A client? Can't you talk to them? I'm not in my professional clothes!" You could hear him rustling in the bed sheets, presumably pushing himself up to be sitting and smiled a little.

"Better than a client, I hope?" You said, stepping through the doorway. You watched Lockwood go through a thousand emotions in an instant, but his face settled on elation, holding out his arms for you.

You rushed to his side, wrapping him up in your arms as tight as you could.

"What are you doing here?" He asked incredulously, a laugh escaping his lips.

"Someone didn't call me after his case," You replied, sliding into the bed next to him to hold his arm.

"And someone didn't tell his coworkers-slash-friends-slash-housemates about his secret partner he's had for half a year!" George cut in.

"Sorry, Georgie," Lockwood gave him a megawatt smile, "Had to keep my girl safe, you understand." You grinned, pushing yourself even closer to him. George grumbled something but Lucy was already pushing him out the door, giving the two of you some much-needed space.

Safely alone, you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"I'm glad you're okay. I was so scared."

"I'm sorry, lovely. I couldn't get to a phone in the hospital, but I thought about you all day every day."

"But now your friends know about us," You said and Lockwood nodded with a smile that made your insides melt.

"They do," He paused, "So d'you think it's time for you to finally spend the night here?" You grinned.

"Really?" You could almost feel the sparkle in your eyes. Lockwood nodded again, a matching look on his face. You didn't bother confirming, instead pressing your lips to his desperately.

Dinner at Portland Row was exactly how you'd imagined it; loud and chaotic and absolutely perfect. George and Lucy arguing over the tiny details of a case story they were telling you, Lockwood butting in with a flashy description of the action sequence. You laughed along, compliments spilling out as you tasted George's cooking. It was too easy to see it happening perpetually, and you had to stop yourself from getting too comfortable on your first visit.

You settled in for the night next to Lockwood. You were in Lockwood's bed with him. You weren't sure if you'd stopped smiling all night.

"I like being here," You said into the dark, looking at the vaguely Lockwood-shaped shadow next to you.

"You could stay here more often, the others love you already."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, all that we've gotten out of keeping us a secret is worry. If people come after me, I promise that I'll do everything to protect you, but we shouldn't waste all our time being scared of something that may never happen. I love you," He said. You faltered, breath hitching slightly. He'd never said that before. Maybe it was slow, maybe it wasn't, but you knew Lockwood was so scared of committing to his feelings, this was everything.

"I love you too," You replied, hearing the smile in your voice as you said it. It was the easiest night of sleep you and Lockwood had ever had.

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tremendously-crazy · 7 months ago

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Ranting about ACD Johnlock because these Victorian husbands need to be happy for me

What the hell happened between Holmes and Watson in 1902 and 1903?

Context: 3GAR is described as happening in July 1902, and ILLU happened in 1902. CREE and BLAN happened in 1903.

In 1902, Holmes and Watson were inseparable.

I don't even need to elaborate when I mention 3GAR. "It was worth a wound" should be enough to remind you of why. I was so touched when I read Holmes seeing his Watson injured and rushing to his side. He is terrified at the thought of losing his friend. It was amazing to read this seemingly cold, distant, and unemotional man threatening to murder the man who almost killed his best friend. There was loyalty, there was love, and it was beautiful.

According to ILLU, in 1902, they're also frequenting Turkish baths together. (which, I might add, was a common place for homosexual men to gather, do with that knowledge what you may) They're lying side by side on two couches with nothing but a blanket on either of them as they dry off. Watson hears Holmes is injured and nearly passes out, and he rushes to Baker Street to see him as soon as possible. He is terrified at the thought of losing his friend. He gingerly sits at his bedside to ensure that Holmes is okay. These are all very intimate things to do between friends. Indeed, this even suggests the possibility of the two being lovers.

IMAGINE that. These two are inseparable. Clearly, these two stories help to build on the idea that they love each other (platonically or romantically. To me, they seem romantically involved, but even as friends, they do love each other. It's all up to personal preference.) Their relationship is so strong, more than anything we have seen before. These stories showcase their love for each other and how passionate they are for each other.

Now, flash forward to 1903, when CREE and BLAN take place, and we are given an entirely different narrative. Watson describes himself as one of Holmes's "habits" in CREE, saying he felt as though he was an accessory to Holmes. Their relationship is "peculiar," and he is only called over to Baker Street as some kind of tool Holmes can talk to or use on a case. Holmes can rely on Watson, and he is, in a way, taking advantage of his reliability. Throughout the entire story, we can feel the tension between these two (remember how Watson had to stress over his practice in order to join Holmes on the case, and Holmes seemingly did not care at all). It seems partially resolved by the end, but there is still a feeling of bitterness that was fully apparent to me while I was reading it. It seemed like their interactions were angsty and passive-aggressive.

In BLAN, Watson does not even live with Holmes anymore, around a year after 3GAR and ILLU. Holmes explains he has "deserted" him for a wife, which he described as "the most selfish action I can recall in our years of association." Holmes was alone. In the story, Holmes cannot stop talking about how much he misses "his" Watson.

These four stories have such a sharp contrast. They have been absolutely terrorizing my brain a lot as of late. I feel like them being so close in ILLU, and *the* moment in 3GAR are some of their strongest moments together. They are both so terrified to lose each other. How is it that a year later, according to the canon, they are barely on speaking terms? My question is, if we are to trust the canon dates, what happened during those months that caused them to drift apart so terribly? How could Watson leave his Holmes for a wife so recently after these frightening events?

Another point about this supposed second wife. I don't think she even existed. (I do think Mary was really Watson's wife, and I might've reblogged a post about it somewhere) But about the second wife. As far as I'm aware, she's mentioned one (1) time in one (1) story by Holmes, and it was likely just a ploy by ACD to separate them (oh well, I'll just give him a wife. That'll separate them good enough.) It's easily enough ignored for that reason. Watson was, in fact, away from Baker Stret, but the idea of a wife was, in all probability, just made up by Holmes as an excuse for his absence.

I'd like to add my personal headcanon because the continuity in Sherlock Holmes is actually so messed up. John is called James in one story (TWIS, if you want to see for yourself.) October 9, 1890, is called a Saturday when it was really a Thursday (REDH) There's a story set in 1892, when Holmes was supposedly dead... etc, etc. Given the known unreliability of dates in these stories, would it be so unreasonable to suggest that the dates of the four I have talked about were swapped? That, in fact, CREE and BLAN were a falling out in their relationship and that ILLU and 3GAR was their healing? That the former were set in 1902 and the latter, in 1903? I can understand that after knowing someone and living with them for so many years, you may start to take them for granted. But after you narrowly lose them, you would not do such a thing again. (Especially not only a year after such a traumatic experience!!) Therefore, I believe CREE and BLAN were examples of how their relationship was beginning to fail and were actually set in 1902 (or some other date in the latter days of their relationship), and ILLU and 3GAR were reminders of how much they meant to each other, and they happened in 1903 (or, more simply, a year after CREE and BLAN).

Thank you for coming to my Ted talk. I know this is completely incorrigible and nobody's gonna read it but I just wanted to get it out there.

TL;DR: Late Sherlock Holmes canon sucks. No way that they had both near death experiences in 3GAR and ILLU, and less than a year latery they can barely stand each other in CREE and BLAN. My personal headcanon says CREE and BLAN were moments of stress in their relationship and that 3GAR and ILLU happened afterward to remind them of how much they appreciated each other and help reconcile them.

#acd holmes #acd canon #sherlock holmes headcanon #headcanons #sherlock holmes #john watson #this is lowkey angsty #ranting #im actually so pressed about this #canon sherlock #acd sherlock holmes #johnlock #the continuity errors help #if you actually read all this congrats #yippee #wowzers

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raapija · 1 year ago

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OKAY, HERE WE GO FINALLY

So, let me introduce you to Nando's Nuggets aka his three little McChildren aka Carlito, Landito and baby Oscar 😘😘😘 (...aka the ultimate nepo baby trio of F1)

This kind of (I feel like this is a hedcanon more) belongs in the pookie au, go check it out ! ->

Huge thanks to everyone in my inbox for fueling this obsession 💚

Lando was a happy little accident born when Fernando was just 18. The relationship with Nando and Lando's mom, Ms. Norris, was pretty chaotic and turbulent and they ended up breaking up before he was even born. Lando stayed mostly with his dad and grew up as a grid-baby with other F1 drivers taking turns in babysitting him. He went through school in the UK since Nando kept his residence there most of the time and Lando got the English accent from there. He's always been around motorsport and it was just a matter of time before he would end up in F1.

Lando and Oscar grew up apart from each other, as Oscar was living in Australia. But whenever they were together while it was Nando's turn to have Oscar for a week or so, it was the highlight of their childhood. They got along well since they were pretty close in age and quite similar in other ways, too. Lando's mom wasn't around a lot when he was growing up, but as of lately, she has reached out to him again and is in good terms with the whole bunch.

✨✨✨

After Fernando separated from Landito's mom in the late nineties, he got together with this little known Aussie GT driver named Mark Webber. It was love at first sight and they had a really strong bond from the very start. They decided to get a kid together, which was wild since both were quite young and because of how difficult it was at the time for two men to get a child together. But, they somehow pulled through it and in April 2001, baby Oscar came along. (He is biologically Nando's through a surrogate) After a few quite happy years with this little family of two boys, Mark and Fernando eventually started to drift apart and the relationship fell flat. Through a mutual decision, they broke up and Oscar went off to live with Mark in Australia. Fernando still spent a lot of time with Oscar of course, but it was never enough. It was always sad to say good bye at the airport.

As time went on and Oscar grew older, he wanted to stay in the UK more. He got interested in karting like his two other brothers, and eventually moved over to try and make it into motorsport and connect better with Nando's side of the family. Mark was still very much around as he became Oscar's manager and pulled all kinds of stunts to get little Oscar in the best possible teams. Mark and Fernando are still very good friends and get along well. Oscar is definitely the most spoiled of them all.

✨✨✨

Carlos was an absolute menace and a troublemaker when he was young. When he was around 13-14, he took part in one of Nando's karting camps in Spain and that was really the only thing the kid was interested in. Later, tragically, Carlos would lose his parents in an accident and since he was such a difficult child, no one would take him in. But alas! Fernando heard about it and since he had seen how talented and passionate Carlos was about driving, he wanted to give him a chance and enrolled him into more karting classes at his own expense. Eventually, they became close and Fernando figured out since nobody else was gonna have him and the poor kid needed a proper home, he adopted him. Carlos immediately took the role of big brother to Lando and Oscar and would start to settle down since he now had a responsibility to be their role model. In time (and with lots of trial and error), Nando raised Carlos to be a sensible and well-adjusted young man who could safely be let out into the world knowing he was gonna be okay.

Carlos' protective nature over his little brothers and dad resulted in him beefing with Lance for years since he didn't exactly like the idea of his dad dating a guy who's four years younger than him. When Nando and Lance got married, it was finally enough proof that Lance wasn't going to leave and break his dad's heart like others had before. Now they're in good terms and Carlos thinks of him quite fondly, but will never admit it. Fernando is incredibly proud of how far Carlito has come and how he's now at Ferrari.

Lance has a pretty good relationship with the bunch overall despite Carlos' apprehensions. He often takes Lando or Oscar on fun trips and likes to hang out with them. Carlos sometimes asks Lance to go golfing with him since he can actually give him some competition.

It's strange for everyone that their step-dad is almost the same age as them (and younger, in Carlos' case), but somehow they make it work. He never actually considers himself to be a parental figure to them, more like a weird kinda fun uncle 🤷 It's weird, the whole family is weird, but they make it work. ❤️

Family portrait:

+This son inherited the magical powers:

#pookie au #strollonso #webbonso #another insane thing but hey #that's what tumblr is for #fernando alonso #lance stroll #oscar piastri #lando norris #mark webber #f1 #¼ of the whole grid is just Alonsos

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bronzemettle · 1 month ago

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FireSt4rters

Human Torch of the Fantastic Four started a dating app in 2016 called "FireSt4rters", exclusively for superpowered or nonhuman people of any origin. Mutants, aliens, Atlanteans, gods, science experiments gone wrong... All are welcome, mask-wearing heroes or otherwise (as long as they're not just ordinary humans using body-external tech bc that's really not the same social experience and the app is supposed to be built on solidarity to the experience of being irreversibly different). (Also, if you have a legal human identity, you have to be over 21, he's not taking chances about any grooming allegations.)

He has Baxter Building geeks designing the cryptography to maintain the anonymity/secret identities of its users, so that it can safely cater to not only the publicly liked, but also some "villains", or the severely marginalized/legally discriminated.

Considering how common polyamory is among superheroes and aliens, it's built more like a full social media site where you can make posts to your own profile (think something between the site we're on now and old-timey Facebook in 2008-2010), but also has a matching feature. People have Friends lists, Romantic Partners lists, FwBs lists, Family lists, Recurring Casual Hookups lists, Allies lists, Comrades lists, Domestic Partners lists, Crushes lists, Best Enemies lists, Lovers lists, etc. all managed separately from each other and each one able to search for new matches separately too.

(I had already had this concept when I wrote this other post about which social media superheroes use for their group chats, but I forgot to include it. A lot of chatting on all sides of the aisle, Avengers, X-Men, Justice League, definitely happens on FireSt4rters)

#BronzeRealms #human torch #johnny storm #dating apps #marvel #marvel comics #dc comics #dc universe #superheroes #polyamory #fantastic four #fantastic 4 #social media

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tinyywriterr · 9 months ago

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WHO WILL IT BE?

*+:｡.｡.·:*¨༺༻¨*:·.｡.｡:+**+:｡.｡.·:*¨༺༻¨*:·.｡.｡:+*

{Toji + POC Reader}

∘°∘♡∘°∘𝓒𝓗𝓐𝓟𝓣𝓔𝓡 𝓔𝓛𝓔𝓥𝓔𝓝 ~ 𝓓𝓔𝓒𝓘𝓢𝓘𝓞𝓝𝓢 & 𝓓𝓔𝓐𝓛𝓢∘°∘♡∘°∘

⟿ Song to Go with the Chapter: Off To The Races by Lana Del Rey [Toji + Reader theme song for this chapter] {literally like idk why I didn’t think of this song before}

⟿ Word Count: 4,900 +

⟿ First Toji + Reader smut scene | finally Toji fluff | Nanami + Reader smut scene

⟿ Summary: Over dinner Nanami asks Toji a question that really shocks you. They finally clue you in on their little scheme and you’re truly taken aback. You also somewhat come to the conclusion that you have feelings for Toji that same night. Around four months later Nanami decides to stay home just so you and Toji could go on a date together. Through out the past four months you’ve enjoyed having Toji around along with his son Megumi. It’s like you all are one big family which is something you could only dream about.

*+:｡.｡.·:*¨༺༻¨*:·.｡.｡:+**+:｡.｡.·:*¨༺༻¨*:·.｡.｡:+*

𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰: contains smut, pet names, fluff, cream pie, fingering, oral sex, dom/sub, light brat taming, fem reader, black fem reader/you, and etc. [please don’t read if easily triggered or not 18 +]

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

𝓐𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮: 18+ please & please don’t copy and paste my story anywhere else. This chapter is slightly shorter then the last chapter by about 400 words. Mainly because I wanted to write some sweet moments and some smut before shit hits the fan again. BUT ANYWAYS, this is my first tumblr fic so if you leave a heart, reblog, or comment it’s greatly appreciated! If there are any errors I am open to anyone correcting me in the comments, leaving feedback, or dming me. I hope you will enjoy this as much as I did when I wrote this!

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*𝒯𝐻𝐸 𝐸𝒩𝒟 𝒪𝐹 𝒯𝐻𝐸 𝒲𝐸𝐸𝒦 | 𝒴𝒪𝒰𝑅 𝒫𝒪𝒱✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

When you woke up the next day and realized Toji didn’t leave so you knew Nanami was planning something. Throughout the whole week, all of you continued to have incredible sex and just enjoyed each other's company. Nanami finally was able to leave the house not worrying about you being home alone or bored. Along with being able to work on his bakery business having Toji around want half bad. Toji always took the opportunity whenever Nanami was gone to rock your world and when Toji would be gone for the day Nanami would do the same. It was amazing having the both of them separately or at the same time almost mind numbing truly. It was like the best dream ever but it came to life.

‘I wonder what Nanami said to him. I love both of them and could see a future with all of us together. But I could also just see me and Nanami together and inviting Toji over whenever. But there’s something about Toji,’ you think to yourself as you prepare dinner for everyone. Today you decided to make something you’ve been craving, Sunday dinner. It was something your mother would make on rare occasions or when you’d visited your grandmother. It consisted of baked chicken, yams, green beans, baked mac n cheese, and lastly some cornbread. It was kind of hard to find the cornbread box mix you liked so you decided to just follow a recipe of it you found online. You started early preparing the meal so it’d be ready around the time you and Nanami usually would have dinner. This is the first time you’ve cooked in a long time so you’re kind of nervous to see what the two men will think of an African American cultural dish. You plated the food and set down each plate at their respective spots before calling for them to come to the kitchen.

“Wow, y/n what smells so good?” Nanami asks as he comes into the kitchen waving the air to get a better smell.

“Fuck, I’m so hungry…” Toji groans as he takes his seat and digs in immediately.

“That’s what you get for not eating breakfast,” you tease smiling from ear to ear as you take your seat. Nanami sits down last rubbing your back as you begin to dig in as well.

“This is really good y/n! You said this was called ‘Sunday dinner’ back in the States? Maybe we should move there!” Toji jokes in between chuckles before returning his attention back to his plate. Nanami chuckles as well and starts to eat savoring every bite still lovingly rubbing your back with his free hand.

“Ya, it’s usually something you’d eat after church. My mom only made it a few times but when she did it was a cause for celebration,” you explain trying not to talk with your mouth open.

“This is really good and hardy y/n, you should cook more if you’re comfortable,” Nanami praises as he has finished his plate rubbing his stomach proudly.

“Where the fuck did your food go?” Toji says flabbergasted as he takes his last bite.

“I should be saying that to both of you,” you tease as you point at your food showing a still semi-full plate. Everyone erupts into laughter then soon after Nanami gets up to grab some whiskey from his office.

“I hope everyone wants a drink I already poured 3 cups,” Nanami says as he walks back with three glasses with 2 shots of whiskey in them. You and Toji nod thankfully as you both take a glass sipping on it and both of you puckering your lips after. “You guys are some wimps,” Nanami teases grinning softly before taking a long sip and not making a face after.

“You just like the taste. Grab me something to smoke it’ll go great with this whiskey,” You command waving at Nanami who shakes his head as he walks upstairs to grab you a cigarette. After a couple of minutes he comes back down and he grabbed three cigarettes. Nanami individually pass one to each of you before he lights your cigarette for you. He then passes the lighter to Toji to spark his own cigarette. Once the lighter found its way back to Nanami he lit his cigarette taking a long drag.

“So have you decided Toji?” Nanami asks turning to Toji lifting up an eyebrow. You stare back between the two men as Toji looks like he’s thinking about what Nanami just asked him.

“Yes, I have and it’s a ‘yes’. Now don’t try to kiss me or anything,” Toji teases standing up and walking to Nanami to do a very interesting brotherly handshake that Nanami awkwardly accepted.

“So…who’s gonna fill me in?” You inquire standing up and putting your cigarette on the ash tray. You have finished eating and picked up all the plates to put in the sink. You make your way towards the sink as you wait for an explanation.

“My love, me, and Toji made a deal. I proposed to him that we all could become a poly couple. I see how you look at him and how he looks at you. So, I asked him and he had until today to decide.” Nanami explains grimacing as Toji puts his arm around Nanami's back giving it a good slap.

You’re speechless for a second as your back is turned to them. You put the plates in the sink and stand there for a moment. ‘How did he notice? I mean I know I brought up the threesome but this is for real life crazy; it feels like Nanami can read my mind. Or am I just predictable?’ You question to yourself but you pull yourself out of that spiral turning around and smiling.

“So, that’s why hmm interesting didn’t see that coming at all. Crazy how you all didn’t feel like including me in the conversation but I’ll let it slide this one time. You should be glad I love you both,” you tease walking towards them both. “But Mr. Nanami you never cease to amaze me. I’m glad our fun doesn’t have to end and will only continue.” You add playfully then lean in and kissing him softly letting both of your lips dance together. You pull away suddenly kissing Toji on the lips as you palm Nanami’s dick only his pants being the barrier. You moan softly letting Toji slip his tongue into your mouth letting your tongues explore each other. You smile in the kiss before pulling away and palming them both. “Or maybe I won’t let it slide and torture you both…” you coo smirking deviously. Both men look at each other wide-eyed both wondering what you’ll do to them or not do to them. You pull your hands away swiftly and pick your still lit cigarette up off the ash tray and take a puff of it while twirling away from them snickering softly. “Nothing for either of you tonight,~” you tease loudly as you walk up the stairs. Slamming your door you lay on your bed and stare at the ceiling.

‘I can’t believe Kento would ask that question that’s so left field of him. And I can’t ignore my fucking feelings for Toji. FUCK, how will this turn out?..’ you think as you continue to puff your cigarette.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*𝟦 𝑀𝒪𝒩𝒯𝐻𝒮 𝐿𝒜𝒯𝐸𝑅 𝑀𝒜𝒦𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝐼𝒯 𝒥𝒰𝒩𝐸 | 𝒴𝒪𝒰𝑅 𝒫𝒪𝒱✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You wake up slowly rubbing your hand on Toji’s chest and your leg on Nanami’s leg as you all had a sleepover in the sex dungeon. Fully awake now you look at the two men sleeping like babies as they both snored softly. You stare up at the ceiling recounting how life has been as of recent. Nanami is about to open his bakery and Toji has finally moved Megumi in but sadly it’s only during the summer break. You slowly slither out of the grip the two men had you in and throw on a silk robe. You open the door quietly you walk out of the room doing the same as you close the door. You make your way up to your room and close the door plopping on the bed lost in thought. You hear your phone buzz and roll over to grab it. After getting up again fully with phone in hand you walk over to the big windows facing the backyard. You unlock your phone the time reads 9 am and a ton of notifications flood in. You have a couple of texts from Angel, one from Trina, and a couple from your sibling group chat.

You smirk softly as you open Angel’s it reads; ‘girl when are you coming to see me I miss you!!!’ sent at 10:30 pm ‘I know you’re enjoying your soft life but don’t forget about me!’ sent at 1:45 am ‘YOU ALSO GOTTA TELL ME EVERYTHING!!!’ sent at 5:00 am.

While chuckling soft you respond with saying. ‘You’re so silly I'll come see you sometime soon I'm gonna be in the city next week anyways!! We should go get drunk or something. AND BITCH THERES A LOT TO TELL!’ You send the message then go to Trina's message.

It reads; ‘Good morning girlfriend! What hairstyle you wanna do next week?’ sent at 11:00 am.

You respond with; ‘Good Morninggggg! I'm thinking crochet locs. What you think?’

You send it and swipe to your sibling's group chat with your brothers. You have tons of messages from Angelo they read; ‘You forgot all about us!!! It’s okay though I know you’re busy and a grown up now. I can’t wait to see you! Nanami has taken great care of us and I’m happy you found him,’ from Angelo sent at 7:30 pm.

‘Daran is forcing me to do homework tell him TO LEAVE ME ALONE,’ from Angelo sent at 8:54 pm.

‘Don’t listen to him enjoy yourself big sister we both just miss you," from Daran sent at 9:15 pm.

You laugh loudly as you read the messages and you respond saying. ‘Mannn Angelo do your homework and I miss you both very much. And could never forget y’all I hope you know I love you both equally. I can’t wait to see you guys too! I might actually come to you all but don’t quote me on that.’

Once sent you hear a knock at your door; “come in!” You yell turning around as the door opens.

“Hello Mx. Nanami, I am hungry…” Megumi practically whispers as he looks around the room.

“Okay, I can make you something what would you like?” You ask as you walk towards him beckoning him to follow you.

“Hmmmm, pancakes please..” he says skipping a little as he follows you down the steps. You both enter the kitchen and you start to gather the ingredients to make breakfast. With Megumi sitting on the kitchen counter he just watches as you make his pancakes. “You’re very pretty Mx. Nanami. Will you be marrying Mr. Nanami soon?” Megumi inquires leaning closer to you and waiting for your answer. He’s the spitting image of his father and Toji was right he’s not as loud. But having him around reminds you of the old days of taking care of your little brothers.

“I sure hope so wanna know a secret?” You ask leaning in closer to him making Megumi become wide-eyed. “I really love Mr. Nanami..” you whisper leaning back and smiling then refocusing on flipping the pancakes making sure they don’t burn. Megumi has a shocked look on his face clasping his hands together before jumping off the counter.  

“I’m going to tell Nanami!” Megumi teases grinning devilishly just like his father.

“Ooooh no you won’t! Also, he’s still sleeping and your pancakes are ready!! Sit down at the table,” You say shaking your head as you point towards the table. Megumi huffs and puffs as he makes his way to the table thanking you as you place his plate on the table. He takes his time eating looking around and savoring every bite. You sit down next to Megumi both of you chatting and laughing as he finishes his food.

“I’m gonna go play now,” Megumi announces once bored with the conversation and running to his room slamming the door shut. You can’t help but laugh as you stand up pick up his dirty dish to put it in a pile in the sink. Once the plate hits the sink you suddenly hear a door swing open. You whip around to see Toji beckoning you to come to the sex dungeon.

“He’s upstairs playing he’ll be busy,” Toji says raising a devious eyebrow. Rolling your eyes you walk towards the room still in your robe. As you walk in Nanami walks out stopping you to kiss your cheek before you both continue walking.

“I’ll be look out and I’ll whistle if anything goes wrong,” Nanami explains before closing the door and locking it softly behind him. You turn your attention back to Toji who’s already pulling his boxers off.

“Come over and relieve me brat,” Toji commands as his boxers fall to the floor. You walk over to him and he shakes his head. “Turn around and do it again. But crawl to me this time and take that stupid robe off,” Toji teases winking at you. “I’ll take you out after I wanna have some alone time with you. I already told Nanami he’s gonna take Megumi to the bookstore," he explains in a sincere tone. Within seconds you have already turned around and got on your hands and knees.

“I’d enjoy that very much daddy,~” you coo winking back at him as you crawl towards him keeping eye contact the whole time. As you get right under him practically under his balls he points his dick down to touch your lips.

“I get your mouth today, we did rock paper scissors,” Toji explains as you part your lips softly licking his tip. “Ughhh don’t tease me brat you know I can’t take it,” Toji groans bending his knees slightly to force his dick deeper into your mouth. You smile softly before taking as much as you can into your mouth. Your jaw still hasn’t gotten used to Toji or your throat so you're expecting to be a little hoarse after. You hollow out your cheeks before placing your right hand around the rest of his length and playing with his hairy balls with the other hand. You earn a moan and a buck of the hips out of him making you moan softly. You bob your head at a decent pace not wanting to tire yourself out. Toji had other plans like always, he grabbed the back of your head as he meets each bob of your head with a deep thrust of his hips. You gag softly trying not to make too much noise as slobber starts to spill out your mouth. The lewd sounds coming from you two was always so enchanting and arousing. You swirl your tongue as best as you can still trying to keep up with Toji’s thrusts. “Fuckkk y/n your throat is so good,~” Toji praises loosing his grip on the back of your head and beginning to pat it instead. You quicken the pace as you feel his dick swell and decide to grip Toji’s hip with your right hand. You try your best to deep throat as much of his length down your throat. “Such a good brat, I saw you roll your eyes earlier at me you thought you’d get away with that?” Toji teases slightly tapping you on the cheek with a free hand. You look up at him and wink making him melt instantly he whispers a string of curse words tilting his head back. “You know me so well beautiful,” he says between groans trailing off at the end. Toji’s dick twitches as cum shoots out of it making your eyes water and gag hard. He bucks his hips again making cum shoot out your mouth and dripping down to your chin and to your chest. You swallow as much as you could as he slowly pulls his dick out. You open your mouth showing the cum you still have left to swallow. Toji bends over and grips your cheeks lightly making you keep your mouth open. He slowly lets a line of spit fall in before bending up again and smacking your cheek lightly. “Swallow,” he commands while patting your head. You do as he says and then slowly stand up wobbling a little as your legs had fallen asleep.

“I’m glad I can please you, daddy.” You say smiling softly as you use your finger to wipe from your chest to your mouth seductively before licking your finger. Toji groans smirking at you before kissing you passionately and full of desire. You bite his lip softly making him grunt before grabbing your throat softly. He bites your lip back and nipping at it before pulling away.

“Fuck, get dressed I’ll meet you outside. Wear a dress a white one with a matching thong and bring a pack of smokes with you too,” Toji says as his choke turns to caressing your cheek softly. “I love you in a dress,” he says as you put your robe back on and walk out the door. Nanami and Megumi were already gone you yelled at Toji from upstairs that he could come out. You rummage through your closet looking for a cute white dress. You picked a short one that stopped at your upper thigh and was flowy so you could feel cutesy more than sexy. You walk back down the stairs and see Toji wearing black jeans and a gray tee shirt smiling at you.

"Zip the back up for me please," you ask showing your unzipped dress.

”You look gorgeous, breathtaking actually. We’re going to the horse track," Toji states as he zips your dress up slowly savoring the sight. "JUST TO WATCH NO GAMBLING!” He says before yelling the last few words as he steps away.

You laugh before walking to grab some white slip-on mules; “NO GAMBLING TOJI!” You tease matching his energy as you open the front door and walk to his car. You lean against the car waiting as he grabs his keys and walks out slamming the front door. “You need to work on that,” you say in a playful tone as Toji opens the car door for you.

“What exactly brat?” He asks mocking your tone and then staring you down hoping you’d crack.

“Slamming doors.” You say in between giggles as you get comfortable in the car, lean back into the seat, and with that, Toji slams the door making you erupt into laughter. You both make your way to the horse racing ring and Toji holds your hand leading the way. He plops down in a seat and you sit next to him. You pass him the pack of smokes before grabbing two out of it for yourself knowing you're not getting that pack back. You both watch the race betting against each other who would win; not with money of course. It helped him not gamble and it was like harm reduction and thankfully, it was fun to go out with Toji. You guys talked the whole time making each other laugh and smile. Soon all the races were done and Toji got up helping you up as he did.

“I’m hungry,” you say pouting as you both walk to the car.

“Nanami made lunch come on I know you get HANGRY,” Toji teases opening the car door for you. You plop in crossing your arms as you stick your tongue out and once again he slams the door. The drive home is quick once home you barely even wait for Toji to park the car before you’re running towards the house. You basically burst in making Nanami and Megumi snap their neck towards the front door. Toji runs in after you rubbing the back of his head. “She’s hungry, really hungry,” Toji teases playfully following behind you as you walk into the house.

Nanami laughs pulling your chair out for you as you plop down he pushes you toward the table. A beautiful sandwich sits before you with your favorite chips [insert your favorite sandwich & chips]. Your mouth practically waters as you dig in not noticing Toji passed you a soju to wash it all down. Once done everyone just chuckles as you lean back in the chair and your mood changes completely smiling at everyone. “Thank you, sorry Megumi you had to see me so hangry.” You say laughing at yourself a little Megumi just shrugs his shoulders chuckling a little too before returning to reading his book. Nanami rubs your shoulders making you lean your head back to look up at him resting your head on the back of the chair.

“You had fun today?” Nanami asks smiling down at you still rubbing your shoulders and giving a slight massage. You nod your head ‘yes’ closing your eyes and smiling softly back at him.

“I’ll chill with the kid you guys go fuck off somewhere,” Toji says waving his hand at you guys to leave. Both you and Nanami chuckle before you stand up taking your plate to the sink and dragging Nanami around behind you. “You see kid those two need help,” Toji teases making Megumi laugh. You both begin walking upstairs and thankfully Nanami didn’t forget the soju. You open your bedroom door closing it shut and locking it once Nanami is fully inside.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day..” you whisper leaning close to Nanami making him blush.

“Oh really? I’ve been thinking about you too you know. You must have something on your mind,” Nanami inquired before kissing your forehead. “Come lay with me let’s talk a bit,” Nanami commands as he lays on the bed making himself comfortable. You grab another cigarette for yourself out of the vintage cigarette dispenser and pass one to Nanami sparking both of yours. You both talk about mindless things and feelings as you drink your soju. Soon you are both cuddling into each other loving the private intimate moment.

“I have a question y/n?” Nanami asks softly in between kisses on your head as you snuggle into his chest.

“Shoot.” You say in a sleepy tone as you have drunk your soju way too fast.

“What is it you’d like to do? I feel like you have more to show the world,” Nanami says turning your head up towards him looking deep into your eyes.

“I used to sew my own clothes when I was younger I always enjoyed creating I just have to find the motivation,” you explain before kissing his chin.

“I can definitely see you doing that. If you ever want to talk about it let me know, okay?” Nanami says sincerely making sure you understand he’s here to help. As you nod your head ‘yes’ he slowly lets go before snaking his hands around your waist. “Why are you so soft?” He asks softly before kissing your cheek. “You said you were thinking about me. What were you thinking exactly?” Nanami asks as he whispers into your ear making a shiver go down your spine.

“Of you fucking me...I miss your touch daddy,~” you coo looking back at him. Nanami’s cheeks are flushed red as he smirks softly.

“Hmm, to fuck my princess or not?” He asks out loud pretending to think. You roll your eyes and turn away from him leaning back into his chest. You feel his hands slowly unzip your dress and pull one strap down. “Ooh no bra ah? Who was this for?” He teases as he slips your dress off leaving you in a white thong. “He must’ve told you to wear white. Toji has great taste cause you look delicious,~” Nanami coos before leaning you forward so he can stand up and strip. Once nude he slides back in bed beckoning you to get under the covers with him. “We gotta be quiet but that won’t be a problem will it princess?” He asks as he snakes his hand up and down your body. You both face each other smiling softly at one another before your lips collide. You have memorized the way his lips taste, how they feel, and how he moves them. You love every second of it moaning softly once he starts to caress your breast. Nanami shifts down so he can put one in his mouth as he plays with the other breast making sure neither was neglected. You moan softly as he does and continues to switch back and forth. Soon he snakes a free hand down to your thong tugging on it before he practically rips it off of you.

“You’re taking me shopping tomorrow,~” you say between moans smiling softly as he grunts in agreement. Soon he's feverishly kissing up and down your body.

“Of course, I’ll take you out to go shopping tomorrow. Lay on your back, my love. I love to see you melt underneath me,” Nanami commands letting go of you so you can do so. Once you’re on your back he hovers over your love spot. He spreads your legs apart propping them on his shoulders as he lays on his stomach. Nanami spreads your lips apart showing your glistening slick entrance gaping from arousal. “So hungry to be stuffed hmm?~” He teases looking up at you smirking deviously.

“Yes daddy please eat me out then fuck me till I can't speak,~” you beg as even his touch is driving you crazy. Not being touched after sucking Toji’s dick was like torture and they both knew that. Nanami chuckles before licking slowly between your folds and sucking on your lips. You buck your hips wanting more of him which makes him lift his head up.

“Patience princess,~” He coos before going back to eat you out slowly drawing out each lick and suck. You moan loudly as your clit begins to throb he chuckled at you as you bite your lip remembering to be quiet. Soon after getting tired of torturing you, he sucks on your clit slowly making you almost bite your own lip off. Your stomach starts to tense up and your legs tremble as you start to cum showering Nanami’s face in your juices. He licks his lips and slightly his chin before fully sitting up. “Spread those legs beautiful,” he commands as he crawls back on top of you. You do so and suddenly he swipes his swollen head against your entrance. Groaning softly he slowly thrusts into you inch by inch before picking up the speed holding your legs now. “Your pussy is so tight princess, fuck,~” Nanami whispers into your feet making your toes curl. He starts slamming into you stretching you and demolishing your walls what’s crazy is his full length wasn’t fully in you. You grab at the sheets trying not to lose your grip but fuck he’s killing you. Nanami chuckles softly before putting your legs on his shoulders and rolling so you're more on your upper back. With your ass, slightly in the air, he holds your legs to support himself as he’s somewhat planking on top of you. Your toes point towards the headboard as he slams into you slowly basically drilling down into you. Nanami has reached a deeper part of you plowing your cervix. As he does so he groans softly bowing his head more and closing his eyes. The lewd sounds of your bodies colliding alone were loud so Toji had to turn on a T.V super loud downstairs shaking his head. As he does this you have been rendered speechless mouth open but nothing coming out as your cervix is getting demolished. You let out a soft moan as heat erupted in the lower half you truly didn’t even know where. You clench around his dick as you cum your legs shaking as you slowly crumble underneath him. “You are so beautiful princess,~” Nanami coos between deep guttural moms. Soon his thrust becomes sloppy as he slowly descends back to fucking you in missionary. He bites your neck softly as he grips onto your love handles slamming deep within you and making your back arch. Nanami curses softly in your ear then says your name as he paints your insides white. Hot cum coated your cervix, your walls, and spilled out of your pussy making you moan softly. Nanami bucks his hips a couple more times before pulling out fully and falling next to you. “You feel so good princess I’m addicted to your love and touch,~” Nanami confesses in a breathy tone.

You smile at him as you crawl on top of him now laying chest to chest. “I’m glad I could please you daddy, it was really good. I love when you fill me with your cum,~” you say in between kisses. "I love you, Ken my heart is yours," you say softly inches apart from him as you both touch foreheads holding hands.

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Once again I hope you enjoyed this one and can’t wait to upload the next chapter! Also let me know how you guys like the little fluff and the smut in this one overall. I liked this chapter going on a little date with Toji likeeee. And for story purposes Megumi is like 5 or 6 right now. I’m so happy people on here actually like this story or smut it warms my heart. But, don’t forget to comment, leave feedback, leave a note, or anything truly. It’s all appreciated! ( v ω v)//

[Please don't copy or plagiarize my work thank you. I don't own any rights to JJK and all photos are from pintrest or here I'll try to tag people if I can]

⟿ Link for my AO3 lovers: {also it’s 24 chapters posted on here}

⟿ Credit for the inspiration for the Chapter:

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azures-grace · 3 months ago

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Hey

Hey @atomiclace

You wanted to hear about my goobers. (In fake Italian accent) I make-a de post

I'll ramble and then drop a bunch of art of them..

Ok so

Lissy and Butch? At each other's THROATS for like. 12-13 years of their life. She was getting shoved around at like. Age four.

For the most part, after about age nine or so she was just like, "I don't have the energy to care about this" but her apathy like. Made this kid mad, so the issues spiked for a bit, but it stopped being physical attacks after she shot Butch and Co with her BB gun when they jumped her after her party.

After the. Gun violence. They kinda like... Cooled off a bit? Her relationship was more chill with Paul than anyone else. He's all Tunnel Snakes Rule and all that, but they've never had any real vendettas against each other personally. She doesn't like Wally, she thinks his older brother is scary (foreshadowing 😔), and she thinks his whole family hates her (they do 😔) so she doesn't interact.

She might not be getting into physical spats with Butch from 11 up, but she's certainly like. Throwing things at him. They're stabbing each other with pencils instead of fistfighting <3. She ends up sitting right in front of him in class and it's. Not her favorite.

Not a whole lot changes after that until the GOAT.

Big changes: 1) she starts avoiding Wally like the plague after breaking into his family's house and like. I think they're vault fanatics and she's literally just living there, she couldn't care less, the brainwashing ain't working, but the Macks fucking terrify her. 2) she ends up picking up a side gig as the tattoo artist (at first to work on her finger dexterity for lock picking, but she stays because she enjoys the job and the money) and that's where her relationship with Butch starts to develop.

Those two bozos go from enemies to coworkers, but it's like. Coworkers >:[. They're relatively amicable, but they'll argue and she'll mess with his stuff when she goes to search his house. They start eating lunch together. She'll bring him food occasionally. The animosity bar is slowly lowering.

After Freddie joins the gang whenever he does, Felicity just kinda goes, "hey man, we've hated each other forever, how about we change that, your gang has all the men, and I need to not be hated by y'all in the future" and Butch is like. "Ew. Sure." And they become Coworkers :|

There's also this like. Very small period of time where they're like. Off and on in like. The world's worst, most awkward, closed off relationship.

That's mostly because Felicity's generally afraid of attempting to date anyone, because the last time she tried that with Amata at age 13, they got busted by the overseer so fast, and she's for sure it's because she tried to date someone and not because the overseer is like. Very against lesbians because that's not gonna help the vault population or something.

Anywho, so she saves his mom before busting out of the vault and then some months later comes back. I have been bullied into the canon 😔

Anywho, she doesn't kill the Overseer, she gets booted out, and then goes back to mourning her dad. She goes back to Rivet City to get some of Dr Li's things to bring them back to the Citadel. That's where she picks up Butch. They start traveling together and it's. Interesting.

They don't. Really know what to do. They aren't fighting anymore, they're not in the same situation they were in, they're both basically orphaned, you know what time it is? If you guessed two idiot teenagers bullying a bunch of small children, you'd be wrong it's the other way around

So they get their asses beat in Lamplight by a bunch of like. 12 year olds and it's not until they're separated by the enclave that Felicity really realizes "aw shit I do like this guy and I do actually care a lot about him" and when they're back home with the GECK, she's like, "hey I know we're like friends n stuff but like. What if we could be like. Dating." And bam they're. Dating question mark.

After Take It Back and her two weeks of being out, they're pretty much like, "yeah no we're dating now"

They head out west after a year in DC, and they make a lil farm a bit away from Goodsprings, and Felicity gets a job as a fragile items courier. She's got the fragile ones because she's not the fastest walker, but she's never had a package break.

OH NO HEADSHOT TIME

So anyway she finally gets back to Butch after like. Five months of him thinking she's dead because Benny stole her pip-boy. She comes home with her party in tow before going to the fort to break her loser out and get her chip back.

She sends Benny to live with Butch and then goes and Yes Mans her way through Vegas while killing as few people as possible and only getting blown up a few times.

She comes back home and is like

"hey Butch, I've slept with other people in the past 8 months"

"ok."

"also I joined another gang in Vegas"

Anywho, they start the world's worst poly relationship with Benny, she and Butch get married after a few years, she gets off whiskey, they have a baby they name Catherine, all is well.

In like.... 2284(?) Felicity is like, "hey I know we're nice and settled here and we have a five month old, but I wanna go back home for a while cause they don't have any lactation consultants over there" (when she had Catherine, it took forever to see one in the fort full of doctors, so she was like, "I gotta do something")

So they bully the brotherhood into sending a vertibird (maxon was not happy) and went back to DC

They got called by MacCready to come help him after Lucy died, Felicity immediately said yes because she's like, "omg a baby"

So they go over there, live with him and Duncan for a while, and keep watching Duncan while he goes to find the cure.

After MacCready comes back (with Cynthia, my SoSu), they head out and decide they actually want to go back to the Mojave after a year.

They bully the brotherhood into getting them another vertibird, promise to stay in touch with the MacCreadys, and head back to Vegas.

Then they have their son who they name Paul and I haven't thought much past that.

Pictures time yippee

I don't have a lot of drawings of Paul 😔

#azure made a post #of course their relationship is more complex but this is an overview because. spoilers.#fo3 oc: Felicity #butch deloria #butchicity #I'm not gonna tag Benny in this gdhjggbnf it ain't about him

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harry-on-broadway · 2 years ago

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The Last Line: Part Three

Part Three

Word Count: 10K || Series Masterlist || Rating: M

A/N: I actually managed to keep my promise and post when I said I would 😅 But seriously, thank you to everyone who has hung around waiting for the update. I hope you like it and would LOVE to hear what you think!

***

Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz.

“Are you going to get that?” Chloe asked pointedly, eyeing Penny’s phone as it vibrated on her desk.

“I’m sorry, is it bothering you?” Penny replied cheekily.

“Yes, but only because I want to know who has been texting you.”

Penny picked up her phone and looked at the screen. Four text messages from Harry. “Just a source,” she said. “I think I might have a lead on a new feature, so I’ve been trying to build a relationship with them.” That was kind of the truth wasn’t it?

“Uh huh,” Chloe said, twirling a pen between her fingers. “And does this source’s name rhyme with Barry Tiles?”

“Shhhh!”

“I knew it!”

The two women stared at each other over the partition that separated their desks, as Penny steeled herself for the barrage of questions Chloe was sure to hurl at her. “You want to take a walk? Get a coffee?” Chloe asked, clearly opting for discretion now that she had gotten what she was looking for from Penny.

“Yes, but you’re buying.”

“Deal.”

When their lattes were in their hands, Penny and Chloe began their slow and strategic walk around the office park, following a carefully planned route that they knew put them out of earshot of nosy coworkers.

“So when did this happen?” Chloe asked.

“Umm…” Penny searched for an answer. “Like a couple of weeks ago, I think? We got drinks after that concert we went to.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that but not the fact that he’s suddenly your new best friend.”

“You know he’s not my best friend. I could never take that title away from you.”

“I appreciate that but that doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell me about him.”

“I didn’t say anything because this just kind of…happened,” Penny said.

And it had. She thought about the way she had texted him when she’d gotten home from their post-show drinks. And how he’d replied. And how when she’d woken up the next morning he’d sent her another message, this one containing a link to a country song that she hadn’t heard before. She thought about how she listened to the song on repeat while she made her coffee and got ready for work, crafting the perfect response in her head as she tapped her fingers to the beat. She thought about how Harry had texted her daily since that night. And, each time she added to her notes on whatever it was Harry was working on, she tried to suppress the feelings of guilt that brewed deep inside.

“Like hell it ‘just happened.’” Chloe tried to make air quotes around the coffee cup in her hands. “It wasn’t that long ago that I thought I’d have to be a character witness at trial for you.”

“Ha ha, but I swear! We just had a drink and talked and things progressed from there.”

“Where’d you take him?”

“Seventy7.”

“Your date spot?”

“My source meeting spot.” Penny took a sip of her coffee.

“So, he’s a source? What are you cooking up?”

Penny looked around, making sure they were far away from anyone who might be eavesdropping on their conversation. “He has a new album coming out sometime this year. Tom told me and so did Harry. And I was thinking, maybe if I got a scoop on it, it would impress Darren and would give me a better shot at landing some stories.”

“I’m sorry,” Chloe said. “But in what world is this a good idea? Did you miss the ethics class freshman year? You know the one about unbiased reporting? Keeping friends and family out of stories? Do you recall any of that? Or were you too hypnotized by his ravishing good looks during your date that all rational thought left your head?”

“He’s neither friend nor family and it wasn’t a date. It was networking. A source meeting. You have those all the time.”

“Yeah, at premieres where I’m talking to 50 year-old men I most certainly don’t want to fuck.”

“I don’t want to fuck Harry.”

“OK, that was great,” Chloe said. “Let’s take that once more though, and this time make me believe you actually believe what you’re saying.”

“I don’t want to fuck him,” Penny said definitively.

Chloe held her gaze waiting for her friend to break. “Well all right then we’ve settled it.” Penny’s phone buzzed again. “What’s your ‘source’ want now?”

Penny unlocked her phone, angling the screen so Chloe could see the four texts Harry had sent.

Hey. How’re you?

I’m in the studio today so I’m on your side of town. Might be stopping by the office to talk to Jeff about something too.

Been listening to this today. Have you heard of it?

Um, any chance you want to grab a drink? Maybe dinner?

“Do you usually get dinner with sources?” Chloe asked with a grin.

“First time for everything,” Penny said, replying to Harry’s message.

Yeah, maybe tomorrow?

His reply came back fast. How’s tonight?

“Someone’s eager,” Chloe laughed.

“What’s wrong with that? Maybe I’ll get what I need.” After confirming the time and location, Penny slid her phone into her bag. “Now where were we?”

“You were profusely denying your attraction to Harry. Unbelievably, I might add.”

“Chlo, I don’t know how many times I can say this…I’m simply tolerating him to get something from him.”

“This is the part in the rom com where the sassy best friend tells the plucky protagonist that she’s making a mistake because she’s going to develop real feelings.”

“And this is the part in the rom com where I go back to my desk and actually get some work done.”

Penny spun on her heel and started back towards the office, leaving Chloe to catch up behind her. Penny spent the rest of the afternoon bouncing between edits to a listicle about “10 Songs You Didn’t Realize Were Turning 10 in 2019” and making a list of things she wanted to ask Harry that night. How far along was the album? Was he close to announcing a release date? A single? Were the songs he’d been sending her any indication of what his new tracks would sound like? A few minutes before five, she slammed her laptop shut, tossing it into the canvas tote that doubled as her purse and work bag these days.

“See you tomorrow,” she called to Chloe and Devon, one of their graphic designers. Devon waved, quickly turning his attention back to his monitor, while Chloe spun in her chair.

“Make good choices tonight,” she called with a sly wink. “Don’t get into too much trouble.”

“You’ll be my one call if I do,” Penny called cheerfully over her shoulder, as Chloe’s laugh echoed through the mostly empty newsroom.

Penny pulled out of the parking garage, cruising through the streets to the restaurant Harry had texted her. It was a bit further out than she usually traveled during the week, but when she looked on the map, it looked like it was midway between her neighborhood and his. Neutral territory. She drummed along to the song on the radio – something by Justin Timberlake – as she waited for the light to turn, catching a glimpse of herself in the rearview mirror. Several strands of hair had escaped from her ponytail and she had a smudge of eyeliner under her left eye.

Ugh. This was not how she wanted to show up to dinner. Eyeing the light and the number of cars in front of her, she shook out her hair, retying it into something slightly neater before rubbing at the smudge under her eye. That looked better, right? She continued to stare at her reflection. What was missing? Lipstick? She thought she had one that wasn’t too old in her bag. After one more glance at the light, she rooted through her tote until she found a neutral coral color that wouldn’t look too out of place on her face. She was just about to apply it to her lips when the car behind her laid on their horn.

“OK, sorry. I’m going!” she cried out to no one in particular. Lipstick would have to wait. But as she made the final turns of her journey and pulled into the parking lot, she couldn’t help but wonder why she felt the need to get dressed up for Harry. This was essentially a business meeting. She gave one final glance at the lipstick that was now on her passenger seat and decided to forgo it. Source meeting, business dinner, not a date. She locked her car and made her way inside. Harry had texted her that he was already there at a table in the back, a message she relayed to the host at the lobby of the restaurant.

“Party name?” he asked.

“Ugh…” She stumbled over her words. “Harry Styles,” she whispered, unsure if she was breaking some unspoken rule by saying his full name aloud.

The host smiled knowingly. “Right through here. You’ll see him seated towards the back. Have a nice evening.”

“Thanks, you too!” Penny said, walking through the curtain that separated the dining room from the lobby.

Her eyes swept over the room, adjusting to the dim lighting as she looked for Harry, finding him on a second glance. He lifted his hand and waved gently, a soft smile on his face. She strode briskly to the table, and he stood as she approached.

“Hey,” he said when she was within earshot. “You look nice.”

Penny looked down at her worn jeans, t-shirt, and blazer. “Thanks?”

“Shit, that was weird,” Harry said with a laugh.

“No. Hey, I’ll take it. You look…nice…too.” It wasn’t a lie. Harry would look fantastic wearing anything in any situation, but there was something about him that was different from the last time she’d seen him. He looked tired. Stressed. “How have you been?” she asked, trying to change the subject.

“Good, good. Staying busy, lots going on,” Harry said, returning to his seat once Penny had sat down. “Been spending some long days in the studio which is…great, but also tiring.”

“I can imagine.”

“You?”

“Oh, pretty similar actually. Not that I’m in a studio, but just a lot of work stuff. They haven’t hired a new news writer yet so I’m kind of doing the work of two people right now, and then there’s a lot of late nights with concerts and stuff and oh my God I should stop talking.” She laughed nervously.

“No, you’re good,” Harry said with a chuckle. “See anyone cool lately.”

“I saw John Legend last week, and I’m seeing a jazz ensemble tomorrow.”

“Sick.”

“Yeah.”

An awkward pause fell over the table as Harry sipped his water and Penny fidgeted with the silverware in front of her. Mercifully, a waiter appeared to take their drink orders.

“I’ll do the Moscato,” Harry said after perusing the wine menu.

“Oh, that sounds good. I’ll have some as well,” Penny said, returning her own menu.

“Should I bring a bottle for the table?” the waiter asked.

“Uh, sure,” Harry said. “Is that OK?” He looked at Penny who just nodded. “The bottle would be great, thanks.”

The waiter disappeared and returned shortly, pouring their wine and taking their dinner orders, before leaving them alone. Silence once again filled the space between them.

“So what did you want to talk about?” Penny asked at the same time Harry asked if she had listened to the song he’d sent her. They both laughed.

“I just thought we could catch up. Make good on that promise of ‘next time,’” he said, swirling the wine in his glass.

“Oh yeah,” Penny took a sip of her own wine. “You said you’d been getting lots of studio time in. I assume the new project is coming along nicely.”

“It’s certainly coming along. I’m not sure about nicely.”

“Why not?”

Harry let out a long breath. “Things aren’t going as easily as I hoped. I feel like everything I’ve written in the past couple of weeks has been shit.”

“Well, I’m sure that’s a lie.”

“I don’t know. If you heard what I finished before I came here you might think differently.”

“You write with others, right?” Penny asked.

Harry nodded. “Yeah, Tom, Tyler, Mitch. That’s the usual crew.”

“Good group. I’m not super familiar with Mitch’s work, but I’m sure he’s top tier if you’re working with him.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment for me or Mitch, but I’ll accept it regardless.”

Penny thought about shooting back a “Why would I compliment you?” but seeing how drained Harry looked, she refrained. “Is there something in particular that’s holding you up?”

“Well, I did some writing while I was touring, and then did a lot of writing earlier this year when I was in Japan. But I still don’t feel like the album’s done. It’s like the secret ingredient is missing or something. But sometimes I feel like I’m the only person that feels that way and that everyone else just wants to wrap it up to get it out there.”

“You have to listen to your gut then,” Penny said without hesitation.

“Easier said than done.”

“No, seriously if you think something is missing, I think you have to hone in on that feeling. Really listen to what your heart and your gut are telling you. Only you know what your album needs to be. Collaboration is great and it clearly works when you have the right group of people together, but when you start letting everyone’s voice in the room, that’s when things start to feel inauthentic. And there’s nothing worse than listening to an album where you know it’s not what the artist fully believes.”

“You can tell?” Harry said, somewhat surprised.

“Well, it’s not like I know everyone personally,” Penny began. “But it’s just a feeling you get when you’ve listened to a lot of stuff. Artists have their signature, and it’s always there even when they start experimenting. Like let’s use Rihanna as an example. If she suddenly started writing about the good life on the farm and drinking beer on the porch with her dog, it would just feel weird, like a label pushing her to replicate the hot new country song. But good artists don’t need to follow the trends, they set them.”

Harry nodded, which Penny took as a sign to continue. “Like for example, your first album.” She took a breath knowing she was potentially treading on thin ice. “It really set the standard for your sound as a solo artist. It’s an album that is clearly very modern, but very heavily influenced by 60s and 70s rock. So, people know to expect that from you. You’re the guy that makes vintage modern and cool. But, perhaps that album was a little too cookie cutter, which I think you know. So this time around, maybe you needed to take a couple of risks, make an album that shows the world who Harry really is. Each album is an opportunity to change the trajectory of your career and I think you should act on it.” Harry stared at her, speechless. “Sorry, if I overstepped,” she said.

“No no, you didn’t,” he said. “Fuck that was exactly what I needed to hear.” He ran his hands over his face. “It’s just that even when I try to insulate myself from the noise, it leaks through. Comments about sales and singles and streaming and charting and all of this stuff that will really determine if I get to keep doing this. And it just makes me get so caught up in my head…” he trailed off.

“I do the same thing sometimes,” Penny replied. “I just get so focused on if this article will get more clicks than the last one, or if it will get good traction on social and help me ‘build my brand.’ I just forget why I do this job.”

Harry nodded. “It can be easy to lose that reason why.”

Their waiter used the break in the conversation to deliver their food, and Penny tucked into her chicken parm, savoring the dish that was a massive step up from her usual combo of a pre-packaged salad and Easy Mac.

“About those songs, you sent me,” Penny began.

“Oh! Did you like them?”

“Surprisingly, yes.”

“Surprisingly?”

“Yeah, I'm admittedly not the biggest country fan,” Penny said. “And to be honest, I’m pretty surprised you're into that kind of music.”

“Oh, I love it,” Harry said, leaning closer and speaking faster. “Country artists are hands down the best at telling a story in a song. I’d like to be able to do that one day. You know, write about an experience that isn’t mine? Or at least tell a story of my own.”

“You’re well on your way to doing that.”

Harry flushed but ignored the remark. “I, uh, liked the playlist you sent me. I’ve been listening to it in the mornings.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Like I’ve heard almost all of the songs before, but not in that way. They tell a different story when you listen to them back-to-back like that.”

“Oh, well thanks. I’ve always prided myself on making good playlists.”

“If you have another, send it my way,” Harry said, taking a bite of his pasta. “I’d love to hear more of what you’ve put together.”

“Well, I’ll have to send you my ‘Bad Bitch’ playlist that I listen to ahead of meetings with my editor.”

“Please.”

She had meant it as a joke, but Harry clearly didn’t take it that way. “Oh yeah, I’ll send it now.” She picked up her phone and sent him the link. “Enjoy. I hope you’re able to find your inner bad bitch.”

“I’ll keep you updated on my progress.”

When the waiter dropped the check on the table, Harry swiftly collected it, placing his card in the leather holder, ignoring Penny’s protests.

“I’m the one who invited you,” he said. “It’s only fair that I pay.”

Penny chewed on her lip. It was basic ethics that journalists didn’t accept gifts from sources. You always paid and kept your fingers crossed that your publication would reimburse you. “I can’t let you.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” What was she supposed to say? I accepted your invite because I wanted to hear about your album? I want to use you for my own personal gains? “Because it’s 2019 and women can pay for themselves.”

“Tell you what, you pay for me next time?”

“You and these next times,” Penny said with a laugh. “Always asking for more.”

“I just thought you were having fun and I was –”

“Harry, I’m kidding. It would be great to see you again. You’re actually pleasant to be around when you’re not acting like an asshole.”

“Two compliments in one night? I should buy you dinner more often!”

“I think that will be the next next time.”

Harry laughed and Penny noticed how when he found something funny, really truly funny, the skin around his eyes crinkled as his dimples deepened. She felt a rush of pride knowing she brought that out in him.

Harry’s phone chirped and the dimples and crinkles disappeared as he looked down at the incoming message. “I guess I should be going. Duty calls.”

“Heading back to the studio?”

“Yeah…” The lightness had disappeared from him.

“I know it’s easy for me, the person that will be critiquing your album, to say, but just write what you feel, Harry. You can’t go wrong with that.”

“I’ll try my best,” he said. “Thanks for coming tonight.”

Penny rose from the table and Harry followed her to the exit. “Have a great rest of your night,” she said, unlocking her car.

“Yeah, you too,” Harry said, swaying on his feet. “I’ll uh, see you later?”

“Definitely! I think I’m free on Wednesday. I’ll text you.”

Harry smiled, and Penny felt warm inside, and marveled at how he could make her feel so good with just one gesture. “I’m looking forward to that,” he said. “Drive safe.”

As she drove home, Penny listened to the songs Harry had sent her over the week, really paying attention to the lyrics and the stories Harry had been talking about. He was right. They were some of the best she’d heard.

It wasn’t until Penny pulled into her parking spot in front of her building that she realized she didn’t get answers to any of her questions.

***

Harry took the quickest route to the studio from the restaurant, opening the voice notes app on his phone when he was stopped at a red light. He spoke quickly, tripping over his words, wanting to make sure he captured everything he was feeling in the moment. When he reached the studio, he rushed in, nearly bumping into Tyler as he turned the corner.

“Wasn’t expecting you to come back tonight, H,” Tyler said.

“I wasn’t either but inspiration struck and…”

“No, I get it,” Tyler said. “Want to get to work?”

“Let’s do it.”

***

The next morning, Penny awoke to a message from Harry.

I think I’ve finally found my inner bad bitch. Thanks for all the help.

***

Over the next couple of weeks, Penny and Harry fell into a rhythm. He’d text her, usually at night when she was getting home from a gig, and they’d message back and forth until one of them fell asleep. They met up for impromptu drinks a few times and got coffee a couple of others. Their outings were usually initiated by Harry, and Penny was more than happy to go along with his suggestions. She kept reminding herself that this was just for work, but she couldn’t deny how much she was enjoying their time together.

Penny had just left Darren’s office one Wednesday afternoon, clenching her hands so hard, she was sure her nails had drawn blood. He’d killed another one of her features, even after suggesting she write it, and everything felt pointless. She was back at her desk deciding what her next move would be – get coffee or cry in the bathroom – when her phone rang. Seeing Harry’s name on the caller ID, she answered almost immediately.

“Hey,” Harry said, his voice tinged with surprise.

“Hey.” Penny could hear the waver in her own voice.

“Is now a bad time?” Harry asked.

“No.”

“You sound…upset,” Harry said cautiously.

“Just a typical day here.”

“Would you have time to take a break? Maybe get a coffee? I’m at Full Stop today.”

Penny looked at her watch. She had time to spare and the way things had been going lately, Harry might be the perfect way to improve her mood. “Sure. I can meet you at Blue Bottle in like 10 minutes.”

“See you there.”

Penny ended the call and grabbed her wallet. “I’ll be back later,” she said to Chloe. Blue Bottle was just a quick walk from her office and she stood outside the coffee shop, rocking back and forth on her heels until she saw Harry approach.

“Hey,” he said, his eyes searching her for obvious signs of distress. “I’m glad you were able to sneak away.”

“Yeah, I needed the break.” Penny gestured to the register inside. “Want to order now?”

Harry nodded and followed Penny inside, ordering an iced Americano after she’d asked for a vanilla latte.

“This was supposed to be my treat,” Harry said as Penny inserted her card into the machine to pay. “I invited you.”

“Next time’s on you,” Penny said with a tight grin, moving off to the side to wait for their drinks, handing Harry a straw.

“So…” Harry said, picking the paper straw wrapper. “Are we going to talk about whatever’s happening here?”

“What? Nothing’s going on.”

“It’s just, you sounded upset on the phone,” Harry said. “And now you just look kind of sad. Stressed.”

“Gee thanks.”

“I didn’t mean that as a bad thing. I was just worried that something was going on.”

Penny looked up to meet Harry’s eyes. It was truly touching how concerned he was, but it also felt monumental. Like whatever she said in response would change the course of whatever was happening between them. “Thanks,” she said after a moment. “It’s just been a rough day at work after a string of rough days.”

“Want to talk about them?”

Penny sighed. “It’s my editor.”

Harry nodded. “I remember you talking about him. He’s the one that keeps shitting on your ideas.”

Penny whipped around to look at him again. “You remember?”

“Yeah, because I thought he sounded like a dick from what you told me.”

“Well, I can confirm that he is. And what he’s been doing recently is instead of letting me pitch stories, he’s assigning me his own pitches, and then even after I follow every single one of his stupid-ass rules, he still kills the story. Now, some of my sources are starting to get cagey since they don’t love sitting down for a call for an article that never materializes and I just feel like a terrible writer and it’s just hard. I feel like I’m stuck and that I’ll never get out.” She looked at Harry “Well, that’s what’s new with me. How about you?” She laughed nervously, aware she’d just spilled her guts to the man who was her mortal enemy mere weeks ago.

“I’m really sorry you’re having to deal with this,” Harry said.

“I know it’s something everyone in a creative field goes through since art is so subjective but it’s just really tough when it feels like you’re the only one experiencing it.”

“Could I read it?”

“What?”

“Your story. The one Darren just killed,” Harry prompted.

“I don’t think you’d be interested. It’s really boring about music licensing and copyright law.”

“I don’t know. I’m a musician. I have songs. Feels pretty applicable.”

Penny sighed. “I’m just -”

“Trying to come up with another excuse?”

“Fine.” Penny unlocked her phone and opened the Google Docs app, navigating to the doc with the story she’d filed earlier that day. “Here,” she said, handing Harry her phone and walking away.

“Woah, where are you going?”

“I’m not going to stand here and watch you read my article. That’s just a form of cruel and unusual punishment. I’m going to wait over there.”

“No you’re not.” Harry grabbed Penny’s hand and pulled her back to his side, not letting go of her hand, even when she was standing next to him.

Penny froze. Harry didn’t appear to register what he was doing as he bowed his head and started to read the screen on the phone he held in his other hand. She stood there, next to him, watching as he read her work. The crinkle that emerged between his eyebrows as he focused, the way his mouth moved as he scanned the page, the way he nodded when he came across certain phrases.

“Latte and Americano for Penny,” the barista called.

Penny cleared her throat. “I should get those,” she said softly.

Harry looked down at the hands. “Oh, right, sorry. Didn’t mean to hold on like that.”

Penny fetched their drinks and when she returned, Harry had migrated to a small table in the corner where he finished reading the article. She didn’t want to fish for compliments, but was curious about what he thought. “Sooo,” she said, handing him the cup.

“I don’t know who your editor is but he’s an idiot for not publishing this. I heard a couple of people at Columbia discussing this last week. People would want to read this.”

“Maybe I should bring you back to the office to see if Darren will listen to you.”

“I am free for a couple more hours.”

Penny grinned. “Thanks. For…everything.”

“No, thanks needed, You’re a fantastic writer, Penny.”

“I wish Darren believed that. Hell, I wish I believed that.”

“Artists are always the most critical of themselves,” Harry said thoughtfully.

“Do you know that from personal experience?”

Harry let out a long sigh and nodded. “It has been a week.”

“Making any progress?” Penny asked, trying to sound casual.

“Kind of. But the label is asking for something that’s more radio friendly and I just don’t want to give it to them. Probably because I don’t know how to give it to them,” he added under his breath.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You’ve got a good team. You’re…smart.”

Harry laughed. “You don’t sound so sure about that.”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” Penny said. “You just have like good music sense. It’s something that can’t be taught.” Harry stared at her blankly. “What? Did I say something wrong?” she asked.

“No.” He shook his head. “I’m just trying to remember when you started being so nice to me.”

“Shut up! You’re so stupid,” Penny said, flicking her straw wrapper at him.

“Shut up!” Harry shot back, mocking her tone as flicked the paper back towards her.

The two giggled, shooting the paper back and forth until Harry put a little too much muscle into it, causing the paper to land on the back of the woman behind Penny.

“So athletics aren’t your strong suit?” she teased.

“I don’t know about that.”

“Penny?”

Penny turned around and came face to face with Darren. Was no place safe? “H-h-hi,” she spluttered. “I was just taking a break. I’ll be back at the office soon.”

“Oh no worries,” Darren said smoothly. “I can tell you’re busy.” He eyed Harry. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, pleasure,” Harry said, extending his hand for a handshake that Darren reciprocated. “I’m Harry.”

Darren nodded, not bothering to reciprocate the introduction. “Well, I’ll see you at the office, Penny.”

“Mhmm, talk soon.” Penny waited until she was sure Darren had left the coffee shop before turning back to Harry. “Fuck, I didn’t think he’d come here. He usually hates anything that brings people joy.”

“Was that weird? That was weird,” Harry said.

“It was.” Penny hadn’t been able to interpret what Darren had been thinking when he walked over there, but she didn’t think she’d be able to pretend like it hadn’t happened when she eventually made her way back to the newsroom.

“I think you could take him though,” Harry said.

“Excuse me?”

“I think you could beat him in a fight. Especially if it was a war of words.”

“Well, we’ve had a couple of those and they typically end with me hiding somewhere to cry.” Harry didn’t say anything and just stared at Penny with an indiscernible expression on his face. “But you didn’t need to know that…” she trailed off.

“You’re good at your job, Penny. Don’t let anyone try to convince you you’re not.”

“Thanks? Not sure if I believe that coming from the guy who bullied me over my writing a couple of weeks ago, but I’ll keep that in my back pocket.” Harry shook his head. “What?” Penny pressed.

“I’m always going to feel terrible about the way I treated you,” Harry said. “It had nothing to do with you, though. It was all about me.”

“Oh?”

“What bothered me was that everything you said was true. In that review you were just pointing out things that were painfully obvious. I just had my head so far up my own ass I couldn’t see. And when I read your words, I just felt so vulnerable. Like if you noticed how guarded and cheap that album was, how many other people did too? I put everything into that it. What if that’s the best I have to offer? What if I never do anything better than that? Do you know what it feels like to question your worth and purpose like that every fucking day?”

“Of course I do. My job is to share my opinions online only to get yelled at by trolls on Twitter who think my being a woman means I don’t have a brain. Or feelings. Each day when I walk into work I have to brace myself for whatever shit Darren is going to throw at me. I have to watch men who know fuck all get chances that I deserve and anytime I try to do anything about it, I’m the one who gets punished. It’s exhausting and stresses me out more than it should, but if I woke up tomorrow and couldn’t do that, I’d be lost. It’s sadistic, but I think you know exactly what I mean.”

Harry blinked slowly. “I do,” he said after a moment. “I don’t think anyone has ever described it like that before, but that’s exactly it.”

They finished their drinks while checking their phones and it wasn’t lost on Penny how even sitting in silence with Harry felt comfortable, like they were old friends. She could have sat with him like that forever, but eventually Harry sighed, signaling the end of their time together.

“I probably need to be getting back,” he said. His face looked drawn and Penny couldn’t tell what had changed.

“Yeah, I should get back too.”

“I’ll walk you over.”

Penny got up and pushed in her chair as Harry disposed of their cups and wrappers. He met her at the door and held it open, walking alongside her when they were out on the sidewalk.

“Are you going back to the studio?” Penny asked. “Or is this a business day?”

“The studio. Hopefully things will fall together soon.”

“Well, break a leg? Good luck? I’m not sure what recording studio protocol is.”

“Any of those will work.” Harry glanced over at her. “Um, I’m assuming you’re back to work.”

“Yeah, not really sure what I’m going to work on for the rest of the day, but I’ll find something.”

“Try not to think about Darren. I mean it.”

“Well you can’t think about the studio execs when you write.”

“Deal.” Harry stopped outside Penny’s office as she pulled her ID from her pocket. “I’ll see you later.” He put his hand on her shoulder and then paused, as if it was a step too far. “Text me or something?”

Penny reached up and covered his hand with hers. “Definitely. Maybe we could do dinner sometime this week if you’re in the area.”

“Yeah, I’ll be around.”

“Great.” Harry’s hand was still on her shoulder as she awkwardly shifted towards the door. “Have a great rest of your day,” Penny said softly.

“You too,” Harry mumbled, breathless as he watched her walk inside.

***

Penny hadn’t been at her desk for more than a minute when Darren strode out of his office straight for her desk. “Fuck,” she mumbled under her breath. She looked around, hoping that someone would be around to diffuse the conversation, but the newsroom was surprisingly empty.

��Penny,” Darren began, voice echoing in the empty room.

“Yes?”

“I didn’t realize you knew Harry Styles?”

“Um, that’s a recent connection. We have a mutual friend.”

“Very cool.” Darren sat on the edge of Chloe’s desk, clicking the pen in his hand. “Learn anything from him?” he asked, attempting to sound casual.

“Not really. Like I said, I only met him recently.”

“That’s a shame. Any scoop from him could be big. Keep an ear out.”

“Um, sure,” Penny said.

“Keep me in the loop on any developments.”

Penny would rather chew glass than keep Darren “in the loop” but she just nodded pleasantly, hoping her agreement would make him go away. “Will do,” she said.

“Great!” Darren hopped off of the desk and headed back to his office, nearly bumping into Chloe as she walked in, coffee and pastry in hand.

“What was that about?” Chloe asked. She wiped off the edge of her desk when she was sure Darren’s door was closed.

“So, Darren ran into me and Harry while we were getting coffee.”

“Ooh, tell me more.”

“He started pumping me for info on Harry–”

“No!” Chloe whined. “Not about Darren, about Harry. I didn’t know you all were meeting up.”

“It was an impromptu thing. He was in the area and I needed a breather.”

“And Darren saw you?”

“Yes, and I think he wants me to leverage my…knowledge…of Harry to get a scoop on something.” Penny chewed on her lip. “I feel conflicted.”

“Babe, that’s exactly what you’ve been planning this whole time! I told you it was a bad idea then and I still think it’s a bad idea. You really think any idea Darren has is a good one?” She said his name in a tone usually reserved for dog shit.

“I know, I know,” Penny moaned. “But I’m just kind of torn because getting anything on him would be great for me but it would ruin our -”

“Burgeoning love affair?” Chloe cut her off.

“No, our friendship or whatever the hell it is.”

“Pen, I think you know what the right move is here. So I’m not going to tell you. You’re better than this and you are smarter than this. Don’t be a Darren!”

Penny clicked the cap on and off of the pen as she thought about Chloe’s words. “There has to be a way I can do the best of both worlds. I mean, critics and journalists hang out with the subjects of their writing all of the time. I can make this work.”

“I will make sure not to tell you ‘told you so’ when this blows up in your face.”

“That’s why you’re my best friend.” They sat at their respective desks and worked until it was closing time. Penny said goodbye and headed to her car. As she stepped outside of the building, she impulsively turned left, taking the circuitous route that would take her in front of Full Stop’s office. As she approached the building, she squinted looking in the windows. She didn’t know what she was hoping to find but she felt an extreme sense of disappointment when she didn’t see Harry.

She finished her walk to the garage, climbing in her car and turning the radio on first thing. As she drove home, her mind wandered – to Darren, to her brother’s upcoming birthday (she still needed to find a card), to Chloe’s annual film festival – but her thoughts were mainly occupied by Harry. What was he doing at this moment? Was he still at the studio? Was he out with friends?

Her phone chimed as she pulled into her parking space. It was a text from Harry. A link to a song. She smiled as she put her headphones on to listen.

***

Are you busy?

Three little words and her heart started racing.

It had been a few days since her impromptu coffee with Harry, they’d talked even more than usual. Penny woke up to texts from Harry – songs, random musings, once, a funny YouTube video – and his messages were also what lulled her to sleep. She wasn’t sure what to call this new stage, but felt that friendship was a good start.

Penny counted to twenty before responding. Not really. What do you need?

She could see him typing in the message thread.

I’m working today and am a little stuck on something. I wanted to get your advice. A voice note followed the message. Take a listen and let me know what you think.

Penny’s phone burned hot in her hand with the knowledge of what that message contained. She rose from her desk, searched for her earbuds and rushed off to find a quiet spot in the office to listen to the note. In the dim hallway that led the kitchen, she pushed her earbuds in and turned up the volume before pressing play.

It was an unfinished demo, but despite the rough nature of the recording, she could tell this song was something special. It started off with a strong drum section before Harry’s vocals came in. His higher register, smoother than ever. She closed her eyes, Even with shitty discount earbuds she could feel the beat pulsing, throbbing, echoing within her. It was magic. When it finished playing, she hit play again, focusing on the lyrics this time through. Phrases about shining, stepping into the light, recurred throughout, and while it was beyond her to speculate the meaning of the lyrics, they felt deeply personal. The kind of personal that everyone could relate to. The hallmark of a good song.

She listened a third time for good measure before typing out her response. Initial reaction, I love it. On more listens, it feels like the bass and drums might be a little too much. There’s an intimacy to this song and you don’t want to lose that. Find a way to balance the two and you’ve got a hit.

Harry’s reply came quickly. You’re exactly right! Thanks!

Any time.

“Penny?”

She looked up from her phone to see Darren in front of her, mug in hand, clearly on his way to get some of the paltry excuse for coffee kept in the kitchen.

“Yeah?”

“What are you doing?”

She searched her brain for a reason she’d be standing in a dark hallway with her headphones. “I was taking a call,” she finally said. “It was a little noisy in the main room and I just needed some quiet.”

“OK, well that’s what we have the call booths for. Keep that in mind.” Darren stared at her and Penny prayed he wouldn’t be able to sniff out the real reason she was there.

“I should go,” she said, dashing towards her desk.

“All good?” Chloe asked, taking in the panic on Penny’s phase.

“You-know-who almost caught me with a demo the other you-know-who sent me,” Penny said, voice low.

“Shit.”

“Yeah, it was a little too close for comfort.”

“Why?”

Penny turned around in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Let’s think this through,” Chloe said. “Why are you so concerned about Darren finding out what you know?”

“Because it’s an ethics issue.”

“Why is it an ethics issue?”

“Because I know Harry. We’ve gotten drinks together.”

“OK, yes,” Chloe prompted. “But how is that any different from you getting drinks with Paul at a networking event and then quoting him in a piece? Or when you went to dinner with those investors that were funding that new streaming startup and then wrote a story?”

“It’s just different. My brother’s best friend didn’t introduce me to them.”

“But he did introduce you to Janice and you quoted her.”

“I-that’s not the same and you know it.”

“You want to know what I think?” Chloe asked.

“Not particularly.”

“I think that three weeks ago you thought this scheme was a great idea but then you actually spent time with Harry and now you care about him and you don’t want him to know you were using him and you also don’t want to risk your reputation.”

Penny scoffed. “You are so off base.”

“Am I? You haven’t looked me in the eye since you sat down and your hands are shaking. You’re lying and we both know it.”

“It’s not what you think,” Penny said. “I didn’t want Darren to know because if he gets ahold of the story he’ll probably kill it and I don’t want that to happen. I’m saving it for one of our editorial meetings so I can have Skylar there as backup.” She hoped the lie sounded more convincing than it felt.

“Sure,” Chloe said. “Do you want to get drinks after work tonight?” she asked, smartly changing the subject.

Penny nodded in agreement, but inside she was wondering why she was so scared to tell her best friend the truth.

***

Penny paced in her kitchen keeping an eye on her phone on the counter, willing it to light up with a new notification. It had been three days since Harry had shared his demo, forcing her to confront the emotions that had been brewing inside of her for the past few months.

She’d reached out a couple of times. First to ask how the rest of his studio session went, and then to share some more songs and music videos she liked. And when those went unanswered, she reached out again, asking if everything was OK only to be met with radio silence. She was fairly certain that nothing was wrong, but concern lurked in the back of her mind, and after a few more minutes of pacing, she grabbed her phone and keys and headed for her car.

She scrolled through her messages until she found Harry’s address which she programmed into her GPS. When she pulled up to the gate, she pressed the buzzer. Then hit it again. And again. And again. Finally, she heard Harry’s voice through the crackly speaker.

“Hello?” His voice sounded different than usual and she couldn’t be sure if it was because of the speaker or something else.

“Uh, it’s Penny. I hadn’t heard from you and was a little nervous since we were supposed to go to that show tonight?”

“Oh, fuck. Come on in.”

She heard a loud buzz and then the gates parted, allowing her to drive in. She glanced at the landscaping as she drove up the path. It was nice and well-maintained, definitely not by him, and she appreciated the views the property offered. She put the car in park in front of the garage. Harry was standing on the front stoop waiting for her.

“I’m so sorry,” he croaked, voice gravely even without the interference of the intercom. “I came down with this spring flu or something. I’ve been out of commission for a few days.”

“Don’t apologize. I was just worried.” Shit. That wasn’t what she meant to say. “Like just since we had these tickets. I wasn’t sure if you still wanted them or…”

“Yeah, of course. I honestly don’t think I’m up for a show tonight. I’m better, but still not 100%.”

“No, I get it.” Penny rocked back and forth on her feet. “Do you want some company?”

Harry paused. “What about the show?”

“One of my friends had been asking about the tickets. I can give them to her.” It felt wrong to go if Harry wasn’t there, not that she’d ever admit that to him.

“Uh, sure,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “Come on in. It’s a little messy.”

Penny followed him inside, toeing off her shoes in the front hall. She padded behind Harry as he led her into a den. The large sectional was covered in pillows and blankets and he cleared a spot off on one side of the couch, making room for Penny.

“Make yourself at home,” Harry said, a sniffle punctuating his statement.

“Can I get you anything?” Penny asked.

“You're my guest. Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“But you’re sick.”

Harry shrugged. “There’s water, juice, beer, and wine in the kitchen. There might be some ginger ale left as well.”

“Ooh my favorite.”

“Help yourself. I’ll have one too.”

Penny grabbed a couple of cans from the fridge, trying not to gawk at the gourmet kitchen around her. “Ice?” she called over her shoulder.

“No thanks.”

She handed Harry one of the cans and they popped the tabs in synchronicity, grinning at their timing.

“Should we be drinking to your health?” Penny asked, before sipping from the can.

Harry grinned. “I can use any and all well wishes. This just knocked me out. I can’t remember the last time I was that sick.” He shuddered as if reliving a traumatic memory.

“It must have been pretty rough. I was worried about not hearing from you.” That was a normal thing to say, right? Penny was suddenly second guessing her words. “I mean just because we had the plans for the show,” she quickly explained.

“No, I apologize. I wasn’t really with it for a couple of days and was pretty useless. Thankfully I had some people looking out for me.”

At that moment, there was nothing Penny wanted to know more than who these people were. “That’s nice. I’m assuming Jeff stopped by?”

Harry nodded. “And Glenne. They brought me some soup and bread. Glenne is Jeff’s girlfriend,” he clarified.

“Oh.”

“And now you are stopping by. I’ve clearly got a village looking after me.”

“Um, yeah.” Penny didn’t know what was wrong with her. On the drive over, she’d been filled with thoughts of what she’d say when she saw Harry, but now that she was with him her mind was blank. “How does it work when you're sick? Like do you have to take a sick day?” What the fuck kind of question was that, she thought to herself. She took a sip of ginger ale.

“Uh, like not really. Sometimes I try to work through it but since we aren’t on a hard deadline I just tried to take it easy. Figured taking a few days off might also help me get in a better place creatively.” He stroked his chin. “Not sure that worked but I guess we’ll find out soon.”

Penny stared at Harry until she realized it was her turn to speak. “I do a similar thing when I have writer’s block.”

Harry looked at her questioningly. “Get sick?”

“No, like, try to take a break.” She took another sip of her drink. “This is weird. I didn’t mean to intrude. I’m just going to head out.” She rose from the couch.

“Why is it weird?” Harry asked, voice still strained from his illness. “We were going to the show tonight, why can’t we just hang out here instead? Watch a movie or something? Play a board game?”

Penny laughed. “A board game?”

“I happen to be a next level Scrabble player.”

“Is that so?”

Harry nodded. “And I can prove it to you if you’ll stay and play with me.”

Penny rubbed her thumb along her can, catching a drop of condensation. What did this mean – the two of them hanging out together without a concert or shop talk as a buffer. The two of them alone in Harry’s house altered the stakes in a significant way. The lines between source and friend and whatever else was lurking in the background were significantly blurred and she felt like she was playing with fire. “Sure,” she said. “Just let me send these tickets to Chloe so someone can make use of them.”

“Great! I’ll find the game.”

Just as Penny pressed the transfer button, Harry reappeared, a worn and well-loved Scrabble box in his hand. “Get comfortable, I’m serious,” he said, easing down onto the floor and setting the Scrabble board up on the coffee table.

Penny shrugged off her cardigan, laying it on the couch behind her before joining Harry on the floor. “How does this work?”

“You’ve never played?” he asked incredulously as Penny shook her head. “How is that even possible?”

“I don’t know,” Penny laughed. “I just never played. I’m honestly not a huge board game person.”

“I can’t believe I let you into my house,” Harry deadpanned. “Not a board game person! Madness!”

Penny rolled her eyes. “Just shut up and teach me how to play.”

Harry started explaining the rules as finished setting up the pieces and Penny tried not to giggle at his excitement and the way he tripped over his words as he laid everything out for her. It wasn’t a complicated game and Penny quickly caught on, relishing the few times she was able to land a double or triple word score, much to Harry’s chagrin.

“I thought you said you hadn’t played before!” he exclaimed.

“I haven’t!”

“How are you so good?”

“Harry, I write for a living and it’s a word game, not fucking brain surgery.”

“Beginner’s luck!”

“Or maybe I’m just better than you!”

They were in the middle of their second game before Penny realized that they hadn’t said a thing about their jobs. No mention of new albums or concerts or studio executives or editors. And the conversation managed to feel easy. It felt like she was with someone she’d known forever, and she loved how comforting that felt.

As they were finishing up the game, Penny could see that Harry’s energy was waning. His laughter didn’t quite reach his eyes anymore and he seemed a little dazed after a couple of coughing fits. “Would you want to switch to a movie or something?” she suggested gently.

“That would be nice,” he relented after a moment’s hesitation. “I’m going to make some tea before, though. Would you like some?”

“Sure, I can help.”

Harry looked like he was about to protest but after glancing at Penny, he abandoned whatever he was about to say, gesturing for her to lead the way. They stood side by side in the kitchen as the water boiled, and Penny tried not to shiver when Harry’s hand grazed hers as he handed her a teabag. Beverages in hand, they made their way back to the couch. Harry stretched out, fishing for the remote among the cushions and Penny plopped down across from him. Harry flicked through the various films available turning to Penny every so often to gauge her opinion before finally settling on a comedy they’d both seen before.

For the first half of the film, they made each other laugh, reciting the memorable lines along with the actors on screen, but after an hour or so, Penny heard an odd noise coming from where Harry was sprawled. His head was resting on the arm of the couch and he had his arms folded over his chest, as if he was trying to curl into himself. His chest rose and fell evenly as soft snores came from his lips. The moment felt too intimate and Penny felt as though she should avert her eyes. But try as she might, she couldn’t.

This was the Harry she’d gotten to know over the past few weeks, the one who was vulnerable and second guessed himself and who cared about things so deeply he let them consume him. The one who looked out for those around him and was surprised when people did the same for him. The Harry who wanted to be her friend.

In that moment, everything clicked for Penny and she felt like she was seeing clearly for the first time in weeks. She couldn’t betray Harry. She’d figure out another way to deal with Darren and find the career changing scoop, but she couldn’t risk losing Harry. If she was this concerned about not hearing from him for three days, what would happen if he was out of her life forever?

Penny wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do with her newfound clarity, but being in Harry’s presence in the wake of the revelation felt suffocating. She needed to get out of his house. Gingerly, she reached over to turn the television off before placing a blanket over his sleeping form. She grabbed her cardigan and shoved her feet in her shoes only to open the door and come face to face with Jeff.

“Heeeyyy,” he said cautiously. “What are you doing here?”

“Hi!” Penny said quickly, stepping out onto the porch and gently closing the door behind her. “How are you?”

“Fine. I-I don’t mean to be rude but I’m just confused as to what you’re doing here.” Jeff laughed lightly.

“So Harry and I were supposed to go to a concert tonight but I hadn’t heard from him in a couple of days and when I texted him about meeting up he didn’t respond and I was a little worried so I came over to check on him.” The words all came out in a weird, breathy, rushed whisper.

“Right,” Jeff said slowly. “Why are you whispering?”

“Because Harry’s asleep.” Penny’s eyes widened hearing her own words. “He fell asleep. After we played Scrabble. And watched a movie. I think he’s still on the mend.”

“You hung out with him?”

Penny nodded. “Yeah, I didn’t plan on staying but he invited me in and it seemed like he wanted company sooo…”

“Yeah, no that’s great,” Jeff said. “I’ve just been checking in on him on my way home each night and I know some others have too but I was just surprised to see you here.” He grinned. “Quite different from how things were a month ago.”

“Mhmm,” was all Penny could get out. “I should probably go.” She darted around Jeff and half walked half jogged down the path, fishing for her keys in her bag while she did so. When she managed to unlock the door, she gave Jeff a casual wave before driving off.

“They just need to fuck,” Jeff said to himself, shaking his head before heading inside.

Harry was jolted awake by the sound of the front door closing, and looked around the room confused as to where his companion had gone. “Penny?” he rasped.

“Nope, just me,” Jeff said, poking his head around the corner. “Don’t mean to disappoint you.”

“You’re the farthest thing from a disappointment, Jeffrey. Penny was just here earlier and I just assumed...”

“I know, I ran into her on the way out.”

Harry frowned as he ran his hand through his messy curls. “She left without saying goodbye.”

Jeff shrugged. “I guess. She said you were asleep and looked like she was in a rush. Maybe she had better things to do than watch the guy who refuses to admit he’s in love with her sleep for two hours.”

“I -”

“Don’t fight it, H. We all see it.”

“There’s nothing to see, Jeffrey.”

Jeff sat down on the edge of the coffee table looking Harry directly in the eye. “H, I’ve known you a long time and because of that, I’d like to think I know you better than most. Something’s been going on with you this year. You’ve been…off. You said Japan was going to reset you but it didn’t seem like it worked. I mean the way you treated Penny those first couple of times.” He exhaled. “That wasn’t you. But the past few weeks, it’s like a switch has been flipped. You’re writing again, you seem happy, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this happened after you’ve gotten to know Penny.”

Harry refused to meet Jeff’s eyes, keeping his gaze on the wall behind him. “I feel like Penny understands me in a way no one else does. It’s like I don’t even have to explain things to her. She just gets it, gets me. But that’s it.”

“Oh, is that all?”

“Yeah, we’re friends.”

Jeff pursed his lips. “So if she wanted to go to dinner and then…I don’t know…have sex after you’d say no? Since you all are ‘just friends.’” He made air quotes with his fingers as he said the last two words. “If she said you should call it a date instead of dinner, you wouldn’t want that?”

“Yeah.”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me that, H.”

Harry turned his head and looked Jeff dead in the eye. “Penny and I are just friends and I don’t want to sleep with her. Or date her.”

Jeff held his gaze. “You’ve always been a shit liar, H.”

***

Penny couldn’t sleep that night, her mind replaying her day with Harry again and again. She knew what she needed to do now, but that didn’t make things any easier.

She couldn’t move forward with the article…that was a given. But Harry…she didn’t know what to do about him. There was no way he could feel the same about her. He just couldn’t. And to put herself out there? Be that vulnerable with him? Now that was a recipe for disaster.

She closed her eyes and willed herself to fall asleep. But as she counted sheep, all she could think of was how much she wished Harry were lying next to her.

***

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