#uber for catering

[nervouslywaitingforlife]

Hi welcome to MirrorDash!

[mwebber]

little (big) field trip to the venue today, it's a cute brewery ! the actual factory part is massive, i kept craning my neck to look up at all the machines... but the beer hall itself is such a vibe and oughh friday looks like it might even be fun. if only getting there didn't involve the most psychological damage i've ever felt from this city's transit system

[atrwriting]

games and other fun — rafe cameron x reader

HAPPY NYE FUCKERS HERES A TOXIC MAN THAT SHOULD DEFINITELY BE LEFT IN 2024 BUT NOT ON THIS BLOG HAHA

this is the hottest rafe scene and if you disagree i think ur silly

as always, warnings: smut, daddy kink, choking, slapping, dom!rafe, alcohol consumption, p in v sex, unprotected sex (please for the love of god wrap it), talk of drugs

anyways… here’s games and other fun:

…

the summer you got hot was coincidentally the same summer you moved to the outerbanks.

the climate was hotter than back hot, but… so were the men.

you and your friends had moved for the new adventure, and thankfully you had found a job in your field pretty quickly. while your friends looked for jobs in their field, they acquired jobs at some of the restaurants, bars, and catering gigs in town.

that was how your best friend met topper.

when she first told you the story, the blush on her cheeks had never been brighter. him and his buddies had been out that night — at the bar she worked at. almost immediately, topper started flirting with her. she claims she played it cool, but from her giggling you can tell that she was excited to talk to him as he was to talk to her. you were so, so happy for her.

…until she mentioned how he had a friend.

“absolutely not,” you stated, shaking your head,

“why not?!” she demanded. “the friend said you were cute!”

you raised an eyebrow at her. “you showed him my picture?”

she nodded. “he was cute! i swear!”

you sighed. “what’s his name?”

“kelce.” a mischievous smile began to play at her lips. “him and topper want to meet us at a party their other friend is throwing this weekend.”

“did you meet that friend?” you asked. “do you think he’d be cool with us coming?”

she dismissed you with a playful wave of her hand. “rafe’s a kook. they wouldn’t be kooks if they didn’t show off their wealth to the whole island.”

you laughed. “okay, fine — i’ll go, but who the fuck names their kid rafe?”

only the richest man on the entire fucking island did, apparently.

you were excited to meet kelce, but you couldn’t help but be curious as to who exactly rafe cameron was. your friend didn’t meet him, neither of you looked him up, but then again — there was a double date to prepare for.

your best friend had gotten ready together after the work day. bikins under levi cutoff shorts, crop tops, and sandals were sported, but the main event was how somehow you both mastered the beachy blowout and natural makeup look in this humidity. once you were done, you both caught an uber and headed straight for the cameron residence.

it was fucking massive.

there was no other word.

and, honestly… it was like something out of project x.

strobe lights, music blasting, and loud laughter and screams. your best friend was more of the partier, so she didn’t look too phased — but you? you were fucking bright-eyed. you hadn’t experienced anything like this before, and even if the date didn’t work out… at least there would be other things to occupy you.

once the uber had parked in front, you spotted a man waiting on the front stoop with his phone in his hands. your friend typed a quick text, hit sent, and through the window you watch the man on the front stoop smile.

place your bets now, you thought. that’s definitely topper.

and that he was.

when you both had met him on the front stoop, he engulfed your friend in a cute hug. afterwards, he extended a smile and his hand to you, and you shook his hand appreciatively.

a man that knew boundaries and manners… fuck yes, bestie.

he led you both inside and you had to stop your jaw from dropping. the party looked crazy from the outside, but nothing could compare to the absolute mayhem that was occurring inside. pong, lines being cut on a few tables, people jumping into the pool from the roof… you name it.

“this is awesome,” you spoke absentmindedly to no one in particular.

“i know,” topped laughed. “kelce’s around here somewhere... drinks?”

he led you both to the kitchen. if you were being honest, you knew that topper and your friend would hit it off pretty quickly and you didn’t want to cock-block them. you were hoping that kelce would find his way to you so you both could have your own fun, and leave your friends to their own devices.

…that was until topper started trying to call kelce over. topper, a bit drunk at this point, didn’t really get the memo from his friend that was turned around, basically back into the corner… that kelce did not want to be disturbed. in fact, when kelce finally got the message, he ripped away from whatever had caught his attention, and turned towards topper’s voice angrily. when he turned away… there was a petite woman pushed into the corner. she seemed very pissed off that kelce had broken their kiss.

who could blame her? he was hot.

no one could blame you for being a little upset, but you wouldn’t tell anyone that.

topper was at a loss for words. you almost felt bad.

letting the liquor provide comic relief, you spoke, “she’s hot. can’t blame him.”

topper laughed and then stuttered, trying to find the words to fight the embarrassment of the situation. even drunk, his manners were impeccable. his and your friend’s eyes revealed a mixture of guilty and sympathy, and you couldn’t deal with how uncomfortable it made you feel. your first instinct was to pretend it didn’t bother you… and if other people ignored your pain, you could too. it gnawed at you in the back of your throat — a rock lodged in your esophagus. your voice was tight, your cheeks were hot, and frustrated and embarrassed tears were pickling at your eyes.

“guys, don’t worry about it,” you laughed, trying to brush it off. “top, where’s the bathroom?”

maybe you couldn’t save yourself from embarrassment, but you could save them from secondhand embarrassment. once he directed you, you gave them both a smile and set off.

if you were being honest… it did hurt that had happened. it was fucking embarrassing. nothing horrible, but combined with having drank in a while, and you were already tipsy? you were feeling emotional, and that wasn’t a good luck. you needed a few minutes in the bathroom to cool off.

you texted your friend that you were going to find the pool after and that she shouldn’t wait up for you — you wanted her to have fun with topper.

you were barely in the bathroom for a few minutes when you heard banging on the door.

“hurry up!” a gruff voice from the other side of the door called.

you shut the water off and brushed away the loose tear. your eyes were red, and your face was a bit puffy, but you figured you’d be fine. you’d probably never see the guy on the other side of the door anyway.

as you opened the door, he went to bang on it again. with his weight forward, he accidentally stumbled into the bathroom while you were still in it.

“sorry, dude, uh —“ he rasped, standing before you and staring awkwardly down at you.

“you’re good…” you spoke, before trying to brush past him.

he caught your upper arm.

“woah, dude,” you laughed hesitantly, trying to step away from him. “i’m leaving, don’t worry.”

“sorry —“ he let go of your arm, still peering down at you. “you’re crying.”

“what? no,” you faked a laugh. “heat got to me s’all. needed some air.”

he eyed you. “never seen you before. not from around here?”

“no,” you shook your head. “my friend and i were invited.”

“by who?” he asked, raising a brow.

you took a step back, not particularly enjoying the third degree in a small space. “this guy she likes… topper.”

his eyes widened, almost in realization. “yeah, yeah… he told me about that. said there was another girl… for kelce.”

you laughed, but with a slight scoff in your voice. “he’s a bit… preoccupied at the moment. with someone else. i was going to go play pong after i… saw.”

“knew he had a pretty girl coming, and did that? guy’s a dick.”

you laughed, and shook your head — brushing off his comment. “‘m sure he’s fine. i don’t know who his friends are — not really in the mood to talk shit about someone i don’t know.”

“sweetheart, he’s one of my best friends — guy’s a dick.”

a smile played at your lips as you raised an eyebrow at the man. “and who are you?”

“the owner of this house,” he replied. “i’m rafe.”

you smiled, and introduced yourself as well. “i’ll, um — leave you to it, then. see you around.”

you turned to leave, when you heard him say your name. while peering down at you, he spoke, “nah… let’s mess with him.”

you shouldn’t have been excited… but you couldn’t deny that you were.

rafe led you back into the kitchen and you smiled at your friend. topper turned to look at you, and his eyes immediately perked up when he saw rafe walking directly behind you.

you greeted them both, but barely before rafe had picked you up by the hips and placed you on the counter next to your friend. you bit back a squeal at the motion, but rafe had leaned against your side as he cracked a beer.

topper turned to you. “i don’t know how you found him, or how you got him out of the woodwork… but the man barely comes to his own parties. nice job.”

you laughed, and let topper and your friend continue their fun.

“so…” you began, turning to rafe. “if you don’t come to your own parties, how do you have fun at things like this?”

a smirk played at the corner of his lips. “they’ve been kind of boring for me, lately, i don’t know… i’m usually in the corner somewhere, smoking.”

sarcastically, with a grin, you asked, “are you telling me i can’t convince you to be my pong partner?”

he laughed, shaking his head. “you could convince me to do a shot with you.”

mischief danced in your eyes. rafe was quick to notice, and the look in his eyes matched yours.

he immediately went for glasses and liquor.

“and you got him to lay off the snow?” asked topper, mouth wide. he looked back to your best friend, grinning. “you’re both coming to the next one.”

rafe poured four shots and handed them off to topper and your best friend. they smiled and laughed to themselves before linking arms, and taking their shots.

“i like to take mine a different way,” rafe rasped, eyes peering down at your lips. “especially since my boy kelce has been staring us down since i put you on this counter.”

a smirk was beginning to form on your lips. in a sultry voice, you asked, “are you suggesting we give your friend a show, rafe?”

you stared into his piercing eyes before he spoke. his lips were parted, and he almost looked hungry. the heat was getting to the both of you making a shiny sheen of sweat glow because of the strobe lights. his eyes were focused on you, and really on you. it threw you off how rafe could have so many things going on around him, barely knowing you — and you were the apple of his eye. the next words rolled off his tongue like sugar, “that’s exactly what i’m suggesting, sweetheart.”

your teeth sank into your bottom lip as a blush rose across your cheeks. with a boldness you were a stranger to, you lifted your shirt above your head to reveal your string black bikini that barely hid your chest.

you figured rafe was lying about kelce — but that was until you saw him and the girl separate, and were now closer to where you and rafe stood. kelce had thrown a few glances your way every now and then, but now? now he was blatantly ignoring the girl next to him as he stared at your rack and rafe.

you threw back your shot, bending your chest towards rafe. you looked back to him with a smile on your face, and plucked his shot from his hands. holding your beasts together and placing the glass in your cleavage, you threw him a wink. rafe’s gaze darkened — and you knew you were in for it.

rafe rested a hand on your waist before he dipped his head lower. his lips wrapped around the circumference of the glass, and threw his head back with ease. your eyes drifted downwards to his broad shoulders, the thickness of his neck, and the muscles in his arms….

oh… you were in for it, alright.

before you knew it, rafe placed his glass down and connected his lips with yours. a whine of surprise rose and died in your throat after rafe placed both of his large hands on the warm skin of your waist. you held rafe’s strong jaw in both of your hands as you kissed him back, letting your tongue dance at his bottom lip.

“you’ve been too sweet to me tonight,” you whispered against his lips. “when are you going to let me be sweet to you?”

“fuck…” he rasped, stealing another kiss. “as soon as i know kelce knows what he missed out on.”

you laughed. “he’s been staring, rafe, come on…”

rafe had wrapped his arms under your ass and hoisted you against his chest. your hair cascaded down around you both, shielding the rest of the party goers for how your lips couldn’t leave his.

“if my dick wasn’t so hard right now — i’d shove it in his face more,” rafe spat. “teach that prick a lesson about how he should treat a beautiful woman.”

you giggled against his lips. “another time — please, rafe. i need you.”

a deep growl went off in his chest, and he let you swallow it whole. rafe kissed you once more before he swung you over his shoulder, one hand firmly planted on your ass to keep you steady, and began walking towards the upstairs.

laughing, you raised your heard to wave goodbye to topper and your best friend — who were laughing and happy for you as they waved back.

with each step towards an empty room, you giggled at rafe as he was cursing at people who got in his way. he kicked a couple of people out of the room before he let you fall onto your back on the bed. your giggles died within you as he began to crawl over you.

“what if i wanted to ride you, baby?” you whispered, running a thumb along his cheek as you bit your lip.

he kissed the inside of your hand as his eyes never left yours. “no, sweetheart — never had such a sexy woman below me. i’m taking my fuckin’ time.”

“taking your time?” you asked. “you’re the host of the party.”

“fuck ‘em,” he spat, capturing your lips once more.

rafe’s movements were much more dominant than in the kitchen. the privacy of the four walls and closed door allowed him to cage your body in and wedge the front of his hips against yours. you hooked your ankles behind his lower back, pulling him into you with a grinding motion. little whimpers left your lips as the friction from your jeans hit your clit in the perfect motion, making you shiver in rafe’s arms.

“want those pants off, daddy,” you rasped. “don’t make me wait.”

“call me that again and i’ll give you anything you want, sweetheart,” he spoke, his hands immediately darting for his belt buckle.

you tore off your and rafe’s pants and rafe made quick work of taking that skimpy bikini off your breasts.

“i almost told you no when you asked to go upstairs,” he spoke, his hands slowly sliding up your stomach. “i wanted to make kelce so fucking jealous…” the palms of rafe’s hands rested on the swell of your breasts, thumbs drawing circles on your nipples. “wanted him to realize that the chick next to him had nothin’ on you… that i was the one to have you… wanted to see the realization in his eyes….” his thumbs and pointer fingers began rolling your sensitive buds in between each other, drawing sharp breaths from between your lips. “but i think you were right, sweetheart. don’t want anyone to see what’s mine.”

“yours?” you let the pads of your fingertips slide down the length of his chest and stomach. you kept your eyes locked on his, provoking him. “no man’s ever been able to make me cum before. what makes you think you’re different?”

he raised an eyebrow, darkness covering his irises. he was silent for a moment, studying you. you kept your baiting look on your face, but inside you grew worried.

rafe’s hand held your jaw in his, thumb prodding at your plump bottom lip. “gonna be a brat for me, that it?”

you shouldn’t have — but you did anyway. “and what’re you gonna do about it?”

an evil smile crept up on rafe’s perfect face. he let go of your chin and got off of you. you were curious as to what his goal was, but that was until he got himself between your legs. you laid back against the bed, and when you looked up — you realized there was a mirror on the ceiling.

you gasped at the sight. your hair was as crazy as your skin was flush. your eyes were as wild as rafe’s, and he stared back at you with darkness and lust all wrapped into one.

“you see that, sweetheart?” he asked, staring back at you. “sight that almost made me take you right there in the kitchen. you gonna be good for daddy, and let me show you how i’m better than all of those little boys?”

your teeth sank into your bottom lip as your cheeks blushed. “yes, daddy, please.”

“so polite,” he rasps, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek. a whine brews in your throat at the affection. “open your legs. let me see that pretty pussy.”

on command, you parted your legs for him. rafe slid one large hand down from your knee to the beginning of your tanned thigh. you watch as his hand cups your mound, and you shiver at the feeling.

“oh… just so soft for me…”

his voice was like caramel as it rolled of his tongue. smooth and sweet. he looked at your pussy like he fucking adored it, there was no other way to put it. when his head finally dipped and his tongue nudged itself at your clit, you leaned your head back against the pillows.

“you like to hide, huh?” he spoke, eyes wide at you as his tongue dripped in between your folds. “not tonight, darlin’. you’re watching me.”

you lifted your head up and watched as his tongue slid into your entrance, and rafe began to nudge your clit with his nose. you gasped at the feeling — completely unaware that was even a thing someone could do, let alone be good at.

“fuck…” you quietly gasped, folding your lips over each other.

rafe replaced his tongue with two fingers — sliding them in and out and curling at the top. a low hum began to build as you fought to keep your eyes on him. the hum was deep and warm, filling your rib cage. you didn’t want to scream, afraid of being too loud or too much for rafe… but keeping your eyes open was enough of a fight. when his perfect, plump lips made contact with your clit… you couldn’t help it. you let out a loud sigh as your vision began to glaze over.

“i wanna do everything i can to this pussy,” rafe bit, sucking at your clit. “smack it, lick it, fuck it, anything i want… just so warm and sweet.”

“…fuck…” while only one word, your voice had never broken so much. rafe’s words were so sensual and mind numbing it was hard not to lose yourself in the moment, free to completely enjoy the sight and feeling of one of the hottest men you had ever seen put you on a pedestal and fucking worship you. his tongue, velvet, was working its way around your clit like it wanted your thighs to clench and wrap around his head. “i’m so close, rafe…”

“that’s it, baby, yeah.” the slurping sounds from below you were pornographic. your hips were jutting up and down to meet his lips and fingers as he plunged inside of you. your hands had found the sides of his head, sad there wasn’t any hair to hold back. “you wanted to be a brat before, now what? blame all of those little boys? now look at you — too fucked out to care. dirty fuckin’ girl.”

he was right. your boldness had left you with your sanity. the low hum had now spread throughout your body until it was everywhere. a soft, quiet vibration could be felt in every one of your limbs until you sure you were shaking. a cocky bastard like rafe — you should’ve wanted to deny him your orgasm, the metaphorical trophy. however, every fiber in your being was telling you he deserved it. his tongue, his lips, his nose, his fingers, his eyes — they wanted you to finish all over his face, and they deserved it. every last drop. every bit of it. every. fucking. bit.

“you scared, baby? don’t get shy on me now.” he had now raised his face where now only his hand was on your pussy. with a concerned, focused look on his face, he dipped two fingers into your entrance as his rough palm was working your clit. “you want to be a good girl for me, don’t you?”

you shut your eyes for a little longer than you should’ve, but opened them back up for tears to collect in the corners of your eyes. the approach of an orgasm was like a current in water, sucking you under. there was no fight and there was no giving in. it was heavy, fast, and hard — drowning where you head had no chance of staying above water. your body was being pulled every which way as your brain fought to remain present, in control. through your glazed over eyes, you could see rafe smirk.

“oh — i don’t think my girl’s listening to me, is she?” his taunting voice was sending you up a wall. the rat bastard — making you feel so good and then demanding that you respond as if your mind wasn’t mush. he moved himself so he was now hovering over your body, balanced on one arm. “i know you can hear me. come on, baby — you wanna cry? do it. fuckin’ cry for me, darlin’.”

you weren’t sure why you needed permission — but something in your insecurity snapped that allowed you to let out one singular strangled moan in your sand paper throat. it was whiny, and soft, and most of all — fucking pathetic. you could see in rafe’s eyes he loved it.

“been so good for me, letting me play with you,” he whispered against your lips as he continued with his hand. “seeing this little body give in — wanna see how far i can go. can’t wait to split you on my cock.”

“let me cum on your cock, rafe, please…” you spoke through your tears. “need it so badly. please let me…”

“can’t cum without a cock inside of you?” he asked, immediately sitting up and undoing his pants. “finally allowed yourself to be a whore and ask for what you want… lettin’ me use that pussy…”

you were nodding furiously, tugging at him to come lay on top of you once more. he batted your hands away, confusing you.

“nah, lay back,” he spoke. “…because i know you want me to use that pussy, don’t you?”

“yes, yes,” you cried, voice breaking. “just want you to use me — fuck, please, rafe…”

there was that smirk again — before he dove in.

rafe had pushed your legs against your chest and held you there as his cock slid easily inside you. since you were denied a very close orgasm — your pussy had never been wetter. it was like your slick was causing him to slide further and further inside so he could be buried in there. with every thrust, your pussy tightened around him — and rafe let you know.

you stared up at the mirror on the ceiling as you watched rafe’s muscles flex. his shoulders and back — holding you down, making you take every thrust. watching his glutes tighten and release with every thrust sent shivers up and down your spine. however, nothing, not one single thing, could compare to the way rafe’s arms flexed around your head and body — holding you in place.

“fucking love your cock, daddy,” you whimpered in his ear. “so, so deep. feels so good it hurts.”

he groaned against your ear, straining to fight against the pleasure. his thrusts began to pick up strength and speed, refusing to give in before you do.

“can tell it hurts, baby — pussy sucking me in like she’s never cum before,” he gasped, his own voice threatening to break. “just needed someone that knew how to work you, huh? give you what you needed? fuck you like the slut you are?”

you dug your face into the crook of his neck, feeling lost in his words and embrace. “slut for your cock, daddy — fuck, just like that. just like that — right there!”

one of his hands reached up to grab a fistful of your hair, and yanked you back. with parted lips and gritted teeth, rafe forced himself against your throat and began to suck on the soft skin. the strain of the position took away what last bit of control you had. you were completely at rafe’s mercy — and you didn’t mind. the head of his cock was pounding against that spot inside of you. your brain and the lower half of your body were working in tandem — acting like they had never had an orgasm before, but that wasn’t the case. no — they had just never had an orgasm like this before. the kind where you are completely out of control, unable to get it back, and under the hands of a man who took such good care of you. maybe you should’ve been scared because you barely knew him, but you weren’t. he wanted your orgasm as much as you did — and you let your naivety get the best of you.

“never wanted to breed a pussy so fuckin’ badly,” he spat against the skin of your throat. “she wants my cum so badly, doesn’t she? sucking me in — what else?”

incoherent. that’s all you were. rafe’s hips smacking against yours, cock hitting just right — there was nothing that allowed you to stay present and sensible in that situation. you were all his, under his control.

“be mean,” you cried, squeezing your eyes shut. “be mean to me — and i’ll cum. fucking christ — please.”

“pussy like this, dirty as you are —“ he spoke, trying to fight his own orgasm. “no one should touch you but me. i own this pussy. me. no one can fuck you like me, that right?”

it was like music to your ears. your pussy was being split open and fucked raw — so dirty, so naughty, so wrong. yet, you were both grasping onto each other like there’s was nothing else in the world. rafe was working his cock into your pussy like your orgasm was his, and his alone. he —

he got tired of waiting for a response. he lightly smacked your cheek, and wrapped a hand around your throat.

you couldn’t be surprised — because your pussy only got wetter.

“you’re gonna fucking cum for me,” he spat against your eyes. “that’s mine. all mine.”

you caught a glance of what you looked like in the mirror above — a mess. a fucking mess. your face was covered in sweat, spit, and tears. your hair was everywhere, just like there was a flush all over your body. you saw the way rafe’s veins in his neck and forehead tightened and protruded as he spat dirty words against the side of your face.

“give it to me,” he spat through gritted teeth.

your eyes couldn’t leave the mirror. it shoved you farther and farther into your trance that you couldn’t look away. couldn’t move. couldn’t think about anything else.

“it’s yours, it’s yours…” you cried, throwing your head back.

your hands immediately came up to dig your nails into his back. your back, arched, pushed your tits into rafe’s face. his face, in awe, couldn’t help but suck a nipple into his mouth as he watched your body fucking shake. there was no more low vibration — your body, every limb, had fully succumbed to shaking and crying.

“pussy so tight,” he gasped. “fuck, fuck, fuck…”

through the mirror, you watch both of your orgasms hit you at the exact same time. with one snap of rafe’s hips, the muscles of his ass tightened where his pelvis locked with yours. his back and shoulder muscles went taut, rippling with the bout of adrenaline running through his veins. with rafe’s body holding yours down, he stopped your body from spasming. your skin was prickly to the touch as your blood was pumping, pumping, pumping. the walls of your pussy squeezed around his cock as strangled gasps pushed past your lips, and were swallowed by rafe.

against your lips, he whispered, “never letting you go now, princess.”

you giggled softly, shivering. “is that so?”

“yeah,” he mumbled, kissing you. “you’re fucked.”

- - -

happy nye here’s some smut HAHA love yall

-L xoxox

[formulawolff]

too fast - l.h.

pairing: lewis hamilton x assistant!reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: cursing, ANGST, lewis is kind of an asshole in this but he makes up for it, implication of smut, drug and alcohol usage, idk what else to include so if y'all find somethin' lemme know!

a/n: yeah here we go with the assistant and famous celebrity/athlete trope. i will always be a fan of this trope, no matter what. this fic is also heavily inspired by the song too fast by sonder. hope y'all enjoy! i figured i would take a small break from the toto content for the moment! <3

"so how are things lately?"

the lights of vegas glitter all around as you inhale, shrugging slightly, "could be better, could be worse."

"yeah?"

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

"well i'm single," you avoid his gaze as you exhale, the smoke billowing into the cool air, "so yeah, things aren't great. maybe if you paid attention to our conversations you'd know."

"oh, right," he plucks the blunt out of your hands, "i don't know if you know, but i have other shit to worry about right now other than your life troubles."

"fuck you," you scoff, rolling your eyes, "we spend nearly every waking moment together and you don’t even listen to a single word that comes out of my mouth.”

“i mean,” he coughs, “that’s why you’re my assistant, and not my team principal. i don’t have to listen to you.” 

“are you fucking serious right now?” you swivel on your heel, facing him.

lewis hamilton, eight time world champion stands beside you, leaning over the balcony of his suite. beneath you, the headlights of cars flash, the white noise of airplane engines humming overhead. there are the occasional beeps of horns, laughter from the other mercedes crew on other balconies, and the roar of luxury cars as they peel down the straights. 

yet, lewis is as poised as ever, blunt in one hand, a bottle of heineken in the other. his gaze is glossy as he peers over at you, his nose piercing glittering in the dim light. his lips are pursed, as if he was processing the words that just came out of his mouth.

“hey,” he begins, setting the blunt on the ashtray, “i-i didn’t mean that.”

“i would sure fucking hope so,” tears well up in your eyes, heat flourishing through your cheeks and into your neck, “what the fuck is wrong with you? i literally do everything for you. i order all of your favorite things. i organize your ubers, your catering, other deliveries. i make your appointments with stylists. i book your photoshoots. i stock your fridge. i braid your hair for you. fuck lewis, i even call you every morning to make sure you’re up and awake. i can’t even get you to listen to me for three seconds?” 

shaking your head, you bring your hands to your face, in a vain attempt to hide the fact that you were now sobbing. the tears flow, droplets splattering on your top as your shoulders shake, “what the fuck do i have to do to be listened to around here?”

“hey,” lewis takes a step forward, his hands wrapping around your wrists, “hey, i’m sorry. it was just a rough day. qualifying didn’t go as planned. i’m so fucking sorry.”

“s-sorry?” you choke out, “you just told me you don’t even listen to me and all i get is sorry? i know that sometimes practices don’t go according to plan but you can’t just be a fucking asshole and expect me to be okay with it.”

“i know,” lewis exhales, wrapping his arms around you, “i really fucked up, okay? something about your tone just really set me off, and i am so sorry. i got into it with toto earlier, that’s probably why i’ve been so bitter tonight.”

ah, so that was the reason behind the little outburst. 

ever since lewis announced his departure from mercedes at the end of the 2024 season, the once positive relationship between the driver and his team principal was quickly deteriorating. frequent arguments about the car, snippy radio exchanges, and speculations from the press were only contributing to the snowball effect that was going to eventually lead to an inevitable avalanche. 

as lewis’ assistant, sometimes you wondered if you knew him better than he knew himself. over the years, you had practically learned everything under the sun about the british driver. of course, when he came back from qualifying a little quieter than usual, you figured something had happened in the paddock. 

you just couldn’t quite put your finger on what. 

often times, the two of you joked that you acted like an old married couple the way you bickered. yet, there was nothing as hurtful or spiteful as the exchange that happened minutes ago. part of you knew that he didn’t mean it, but part of you couldn’t let it go because of his inebriated state.

sometimes drunk words were just sober thoughts. 

“do you really think you don’t have to listen to me because of my status?” 

“no,” his voice is small, “i don’t think that.”

“then why did you say it?”

“i d-don’t know,” you can hear his voice falter, “i-i was just upset from earlier. i usually don’t lash out like that.”

a sniffle fills your ears, his chest heaving slightly. glancing up, you notice the glimmer of a tear as it slips down his cheek, the driver’s lip trembling.

“lewis,” the notes in your tone are gentle, “is everything okay?”

“no,” he shakes his head, “i-i’m sorry.”

“what’s wrong?”

“i do listen to you,” squeezing his eyes shut, he allows you to wipe away a tear, “i promise i listen to you. i don’t want you to ever feel like i don’t. i’m sorry, i’ve just had a lot on my mind lately and–”

“don’t worry about me,” tenderly, you caress his cheekbone with the pad of your thumb, “i promise that i will survive. maybe you can hook me up with someone on the grid, yeah?”

“i can’t do that.”

“why not?” you arch a brow. 

“because there is no one else i would want you with on that grid but me,” his eyes open, meeting yours, “i’m so upset because i hurt you. i have feelings for you, and seeing you hurt like that, it nearly split me into two.”

“lewis,” your breath hitches in your throat as he leans in, the tip of his nose brushing against yours, “i-i don’t know what you want me to say.”

“come on,” he tuts, “you know why you ended things with that guy. he was getting frustrated at how much time we were spending together. and in your heart, you know that you can’t stay away from me. the way you look at me, i know that you feel the same way. you wouldn’t learn how to do my favorite hairstyles if there wasn’t some sort of love there. you wouldn’t order my favorite food without asking if you didn’t care. you wouldn’t spend all of this time with me if you didn’t like me.”

“maybe i do, just a little bit.”

“only a little bit?” he cocks his head, “you can’t just admit you’re in love with me?”

“what if i was?”

“hmm,” he hums, his mouth only millimeters from yours, “i’d tell you i was in love with you too.”

“you would have to promise me something, though.”

“anything.”

“would you slow down a little on your lifestyle?” you inquire, slightly testing the waters to see how far you could go. 

“and what does that entail?” a hand finds its way to the base of your neck, warm and comforting as a breeze rolls through.

“would you quit going to the strip clubs? driving recklessly? living the fast life?”

“if it meant that it would make you happy and secure, yes,” the words are brimmed with authenticity, “i want to make you the happiest woman on earth. i’d do anything for you.”

“would you quit tomorrow?”

“oh love,” he chuckles, “i’ll quit this instant.”

“and i’ll keep taking care of you.”

“promise?” his voice softens, “you promise you’ll stick by my side? even after i leave mercedes?”

“i promise.”

the corners of his lips curl into a smug smirk, the driver leaning in even closer. 

“that only means we get to seal that promise with a kiss then, huh?”

[coralinnii]

Leaving a kiss mark on him…and how long did it take for him to realize  feat: Kalim · Cater · Idia · Rook  genre: fluff note: not gender-specific reader (everyone is allowed to wear lipstick), no pronouns, established relationships,

Me: I have to study, I have mountains of assignments and projects to do! *hides in tumblr to avoid study anxiety* can I just fail my classes and say I tried? T_T

I'm starting to enjoy Rook mostly cuz I can go ham with the romantic words or as Idia would probably call it "cringe worthy crap"

Until recess, when Jamil points it out

This ball of sunshine is too  giddy in your presence to notice anything. How do you expect him to pay attention to anything when you’re laughing and chatting with him before the start of class. The two of you parted ways with Kalim having a big grin on his face, never realizing you left an obvious imprint on your love on his cheek. 

Kalim would never think that the loud chattering in the hallways were about him, ignorant of the stares of the other students as he waves to them happily. Some whispered how embarrassing it must be if he ever finds out, some muttered what a lucky b*stard he was. 

Said lucky b*stard stayed oblivious even in class as no one felt the need to risk being called out in class by informing the white-haired Housewarden. Trein of course saw the mark on the boy but kept silent over it, deciding to let young love be. 

The kiss mark was finally brought to Kalim’s attention when he met with Jamil in the cafeteria, the vice Housewarden shocked by the image but soon replaced with an exasperated sigh. Jamil pulled out a compact mirror (I’m 110% sure Jamil is the type to carry one) and pointed to the Asim heir’s cheek.

Kalim was ecstatic at what he saw and why wouldn’t he? His beautiful treasure just left a cute reminder on his cheek and just seeing the mark makes him remember your kiss which makes him giddy once more. 

Jamil had to practically fight Kalim to wipe the kiss mark off his face. He can’t let the Asim family find out their oldest son was walking around with such an embarrassing appearance. 

But Jamil isn’t gonna have a break from this as Kalim would just run back to you and ask you to leave your mark on him once more. 

“Come on, do it again! Please~? It doesn’t have to be on my cheek this time!”

As soon as he check his reflection in his phone

The extrovert he is, Cater is not going to say no to some PDA. His Magicam has been filling up with cute pictures of you two, whether it’d be on your dates or a quick selfie before class. 

For this selfie, you decided to land a smooch on your boyfriend’s cheek as he takes his daily selfie pic. Once Cater was done posting the uber cute memory with you, the two of you split from each other towards your respective classes. 

Despite his itchy hands, Cater knows better than to mess with his phone during lessons. Unlike Kalim however, he definitely picked up the weird looks sent his way and the whispers behind his back. His ability to read the room hints to him that the whispering wasn't of malice intent or anything negative but he knows it pertains to him. 

Once the bell rang, the redhead immediately picked up his phone and caught something in the reflection of the darkened screen. Was there something on his face? 

Opening his camera app, he finally saw the hot topic in the classroom, the cheeky little mark you left on him. 

You would think the easygoing student would laugh over the cute gesture, maybe tease you later on your bold expression of love. You’d be partially right. 

You caught him by surprise. His face will be dusted with a reddish hue as he inspects a mark on his face in addition to his diamond mark. He had to cover the lower half of his face with his hand to hide the goofy smile blooming on his lips. A genuine, not Magicam perfect smile. This is beyond cute, it’s downright adorable in all the best ways with messy lipstick smudges and all. 

But yes, he will absolutely tease you about this little souvenir you left him. He even sent a new selfie on Magicam showing off your handiwork and tagging you right on the mark. He was just lucky Riddle didn’t catch him with your mark on him. 

“Aren’t me and my bae just #couplegoals? Hope you ain’t jelly~” 

Would have never noticed if not for Ortho 

Idia would never allow PDA, nope never. He isn’t the type of guy that wants to show off his relationship. It’s not that he’s embarrassed by you, of course not! But he’s more of a lowkey guy that rather show his love in the comforts of his or your room. 

Which was why he was happy to receive a loving kiss from you before you leave his room to head to your classes. But Idia was gonna send his tablet off as usual while he laid back in the safety of his room. 

As stated, this man would have gone the whole day without realizing what you did. He gets into the zone once he starts his gaming session. He is also not the type to really check himself in the mirror if he goes to the bathroom, only doing the bare minimum in there and then going right back to his video games. 

It wasn’t until Ortho came by to check up on his brother did he finally take notice of his appearance. 

“Brother, what’s that on your cheek?” 

Confused, Idia reached for his phone and opened the rarely used camera app on his phone (only used for you and cats) and shrieked when he saw your little present clear as day on his pale face. 

How could you do this to him? How could you do something this embarrassing to this weak man?? It was a damn good thing he didn’t leave his room or he could never leave this down. What if someone other than Ortho showed up at his door, like one of his dormmates? 

He quickly commanded his tablet to locate you, bringing you to a secluded place then screaming at you for your sneaky trick. His throat hurting from the amount of talking and yelling he has done, more than he has in a while

But when you asked him if he really didn’t like it, Idia turned quiet real quick. You can’t just corner him with a kill shot question like that. 

Seriously, you’re gonna give him a heart attack.

“It’s not that I don’t like it, you just can’t just do things like that out of the blue! H-huh, you’re asking when can you do it, then?!”

The moment you did it

You think Rook wouldn’t notice? The man who not only has amazing senses but also the right hand man to Vil who has taught him the skills of makeup application? One look at your lips (and of course, he has looked) and he can tell if the product is smudge-proof or not.

The moment your lips graced his cheek, he could feel the residue of your lipstick left on his sensitive skin. Judging by the smile on your face, he knew you were intentional with your marking and was proud of it. 

What a trickster you are, was this your way of marking your man? Making sure everyone is aware that the vice Housewarden is spoken for? How beautifully devilish of you. 

Before you could escape, Rook captured you in his arms with a coy smile on his face. 

“My dear Trickster, how sneaky of you to try to leave your lovely mark on me. But, I've noticed you weren’t wearing smudge-proof lipstick today. You would have to do better than that~” 

You pouted, hoping you could at least be out of your hunter’s line of sight before he called you out. Leave it to him to notice the most minuscule of things, you suppose.

“You didn’t try to stop me, though?” you questioned suspiciously, your so-called keen boyfriend letting you attack him so easily. 

He simply responded to you with a bright smile on his face, “How could I ever deny my beautiful beloved? For you, I surrender myself to your whims of love for I am but a weak prey ensnared by your beauty” 

You left more kiss marks on this crazy poet of a man 

“To be graced with your lips, a show of loving passion bestowed only to me…I am a helpless fool to my lover”

[the-magpie-archives]

Tips for writing London as a setting if you've never been there

London's a popular place to set a story! It's often imagined as sexy, cool, and suave. Whilst this is sometimes true, the thing that it predominantly is, is absolutely and entirely chaotic! So here are some aspects that you may not know about:

-Public transport is absolutely crucial to the infrastructure! Few people drive in London because of how well connected it is, and bus stops and train stations are often used as meeting points or details in directions.

-There's a LOT of crime, like, a lot. All cities have it, but London has a lot of variety. Stabbings are incredibly common (to the extent where it becomes a bit of a joke), almost everyone has a story where they've found or seen a dead body, and there are many money laundering/drug den fronts under the guise of highstreet shops (they're not well hidden).

-Despite it's chaos there's a strong code of etiquette most people hold themselves too. Some are actual rules (stand on the right side of escalators, don't queue jump) but some are simply social expectations (don't stop in the middle of the pavement, keep your bags close to your body, don't take up multiple seats.)

-A lot of tourists to the city are COMPLETELY FERAL and widely hated. They'll stand in the middle of the road, block up bridges, swing around cameras and selfie sticks in busy places, and completely ignore the social standards of polite society. People Do Not Like This. (also American tourists have a tendancy to just randomly start conversation with people? It's a bit weird and generally not done but it's not strictly a bad thing.)

-Rush hour is INSANE. We're talking almost static traffic, trains so packed that you're pressed into people on every side, buses that are so full they can't stop to let more people on. Some days it's better some days it's worse, but if you can avoid travelling at those times YOU DO.

-There are a lot of scam artists on the streets. Most major cities have these, they suck, they're aggressive, and they'll take your money! Some give you flowers and then force you to pay, some take photos of you and boost up the price to get them, there's always new ones, they're relentless, and you've gotta tell them to fuck off.

-Black cabs are not at all popular for normal people! They cater to tourists, rich people, and old people. They're great, the cab drivers are hard working and very knowledgeable, but they're also very expensive. Awful as it is, uber's cheaper if you're desperate, but buses go everywhere so it's just not really worth it.

[hydrangea-mon-amor]

「 ✦  Yandere Angel ✦ 」

Yandere Male! x fem! reader!

Trigger warning! Yandere behavior, obsessive behavior

A/N guys, I feel like I’m on drugs right now, I’ve worked on this for who knows how many hours just so I could drop it in time of New Years. It’s a long one, and I think you guys will love this one.

Summary! He is your Guardian Angel, sworn to protect you against any and all evil. You are a simple mortal girl, who ensnared the wrong angel in your circle… (no seriously girl how the hell did you do that….)

Side note — if you think there should be more trigger warnings added, let me know.

Every Angel is assigned to a human, but not every angel harbors the ability to form a genuine relationship with them. It isn’t in their clause, and, in any case, the act in itself is generally treated as something to avoid.

After all, angels are immortal, ephemeral creatures, beings of light itself. They cannot die like ordinary humans do, and they do not have the lifespan of one either…

No, they live long, immortality is something they are branded with. How could, if one could ask, would an angel live if they grew to love their charge, but had to acquiesce and give them up in the name of death?

Is it possible for life to be so unfair?

Is it possible for life to be so irrevocably cruel?

Peliel, was the name of your guardian Angel. He has been looking over you, you know? Each moment—every encounter that has mysteriously worked in your favor, it was all because of him. Truly he had your best interest in mind.

Do you remember, when it was your seventeenth birthday, your friends and you hopped in that Uber, only to be led astray but then back again? Remember how relieved you were when you had realized that you weren’t being kidnapped?

You should thank Peliel.

No, really, it’s insisted that you thank your protective guardian Angel…

On a drowsy Sunday morning, with leaves swaying to the persuasive winds, Peliel is slumped under a tree. He watches over you, you are outside a cafe, studying for a future exam. Peliel looks around for danger, he always has, he has never complained, he never will complain.

A dumb smile finds its way on his face.

‘You look so adorable…’ he thinks—he has always thought that.

His eyes perk up, where are you going?

Peliel, removes himself from the trees shade, and starts stalking towards you. No mortal can see him, he is, infact, hidden in plain sight. He watches you cross roads, than follow the same path. He follows, quite diligently too, until he comes to a stop.

The Public Library.

He smiles dumbly to himself. Of course someone as adorable and motivated as you would go to the library to study…

He moves through the door, tucking himself away into a corner so where he could watch you promptly. He has never loved being a guardian so much, he wishes death wasn’t a thing so he could forever be your Guardian Angel…

You sit in between two chairs on a desk, clasping a medical textbook in your hands. You lay it on top the surface, diligently tracing your fingers along the words, taking notes as you do. Hair cascading down your delectable visage, and Peliel watches it all, he will watch it all.

Sometimes, when you sleep in your bed, Peliel will sit at the edge of the mattress and just…stare. It isn’t weird, really it’s just him protecting what is his. He is in charge of your protection, what kind of Guardian Angel would he be if he didn’t take it upon himself catering to your protection in every circumstance?

Who would he be? No really, he might as-well be committing an act of transgression upon the Heavens.

No…the wording is wrong, in actuality, he’d be committing transgressions against you.

He sits in his corner, looking upon you like how mortals look upon their worldly desires. But, to him, you are more than just “desires.” You are his reason for living.

“Fuck.” He’s startled, it isn’t often he hears you curse…

You look upon your textbook, frustrated with the topic you’re currently studying. You look up, desperate for some notion of reprieve.

Your eyes squint.

“Can I help you? Why are you in the corner like that?”

Peliel is confused, you shouldn’t be able to see him. It isn’t natural, it isn’t possible. He is invisible to the mortal eye, he cannot be seen by ordinary folk, how can you…

“Are you referring to me?”

You should really be more gentle with him, he speaks so timidly, frightened he’s going to disappoint you…

You look over your shoulder, “I don’t see anyone huddled up in a corner like you are, so yes, as if it wasn’t obvious already, but I am looking at you. And seriously? Who would I have to look at besides you?”

Who would I have to look at besides you…

He seriously shouldn’t be getting butterflies from this, poor thing, all riled up for nothing.

“I-I’m not sure.” He attempts to smile, his face definitely dusted in red, he’s squeamish now, unbecoming. You really shouldn’t have acknowledged him.

“Don’t sit there, you’ll damage your spine.”

“How do you know?”

You hold up the textbook, “studying to become a doctor.”

He looks at you surprised.

“Really?”

As if he didn’t already know that…

“Mhmm, exam next Thursday, wish me luck won’t you?” You were being sarcastic, but he was not.

“O-of course!”

Your phone rings. “Have to go now, bye, don’t make me catch you in a position like that again. Well, that is if we ever meet again.”

He watches in awe, you leave the library, hesitant smile his way.

He feels like he’s on cloud nine, or ten, or eleven. He feels weightless, light, fluttering, untouchable.

Of course, the reason why you could see him was because of fate… you are destined for him, as he is destined for you… that’s why you could see him, that’s why he could converse with you…. Fate, you are fated to him…

He’s watching you.

Well, he always has, but something about this encounter is different… he doesn’t know, it feels more intimate, more romantic.

He sits upon a tree branch, an apple in his hands. He’s been meaning to take a bite, but he is so enamored with you that he simply just forgot… but, of course, could you blame him? You are simply so you, and he is irrevocably engrossed with you.

You are star-gazing, by yourself. Wearing a divine skirt, a tank top, and a simple, cute cardigan. You have a basket of mangoes by you, waiting a few moments to eat the next piece.

He can’t stop thinking about you, he can’t stop himself from being near you. Even if you don’t know he’s here, it still doesn’t change the fact that he’s there…

He will always be there.

Always, for you.

In the wake of the glowing moon, the dance of the twinkling constellations, Peliels whispers, sounds odd but no. He whispers to you, don’t you understand? Fate has communicated that you two are meant for eachother, bless Peliel, all he is doing is seeing it to fruition.

These whispers, these statements of fervor, are carried by the ever persistent winds.

They are carried to you.

Heaven cannot compare to the bliss you have given.

Your face is as delicate as dew drops, and your voice as placid as the clearest of waters…you are an illustration of exalted life.

He almost giggles to himself when he sees you startled, playing it off as something amiss with your hearing.

It was probably the smartest thing you’ve done thus far.

He shouldn’t intervene this much, really, it isn’t ethical. And, his higher ups would probably not be too fond of his recent behavior either. But can he help it? Really, can he?

Honestly he thinks it’s your fault.

If you weren’t so infatuating, so alluring, he wouldn’t have to do this.

If he didn’t love you like he did, he probably would’ve stepped back, but he does love you, he loves you so much that he cannot bear the sight of you being inconvenienced. No matter how minor.

So why is that you aren’t grateful? Why do you look on in terror as if he had done something so outrageous? So heinous?

“Please, someone, dial 911!” You shout, shaking as you watch the bleeding corpse of your boss.

How did he even get that way?

A part of you is at odds with one another. He was a shit boss, always targetting people who couldn’t fight back, he was rude, mean, crude, narcissistic, evil—

“I—he’s losing a lot of blood please!” You shout, cursing yourself for not having your phone on you.

Peliel watches on, not liking the feeling swirling in his stomach.

Why aren’t you showing any signs of gratitude? You hated him, Peliel knows how much you hated him. So why, why do you want people do help the coward! He’s helping you! He’s doing you a favor, how could you be so insolent and—

Wait.

You are so lucky to have a very smart Guardian Angel, did you know that?

Peliel, transforms into a mortal body, akin to how you saw him in the library, just less…divine. He transforms into the uniform of your workplace, a co-worker. He pushes pass the doors, until he reaches you the body.

“I know how to bandage deep wounds.” He said, not realizing the logistics of the situation he has put himself in.

He didn’t take note to factor in the fact that you have never seen him working with you before, or the fact that it has been a complete month since your last interaction, or the fact that this just seems so convenient…

He supposes he is lucky enough to have a human so traumatized to not question it.

“Please h-help, I don’t know how he ended up like this.” You said, voice trembling.

Cute.

Peliel thinks how he could be the cause of that trembling voice.

“Do you have a first aid kid?” He said, you nodded, still shaking. When you leave his sight to fetch the kit, Peliel looks upon the corpse like it has personally offended him.

He didn’t plan for this to happen, it wasn’t what he originally wanted. But he supposes it isn’t a complete loss, since, he does have you.

With a snap of his finger, the corpse he so assiduously butchered was bandaged up in an instant. The bleeding, to a minimum.

When you came back, you were stunned.

“How did you…I thought you—“

“I realized I had a first aid kid with me. Sorry if I bothered you.”

“No—not at all! I just…thank you for helping. I am so grateful—god—I don’t understand how this could even happen.”

Grateful.

So now you are grateful.

Peliel thinks he may have to switch tactics, but nevertheless, he is happy. He is happy he made you happy.

“Of course, it’s nothing—“

Peliel is cut off from ambulance sirens.

What a hinderance.

Alas, at the end of the day, when you have high given your police statements, you both stand outside the police station.

“Really again, I’m so grateful you showed up, if you hadn’t I don’t think he would’ve been able to—“

Peliel realizes that he may have overstepped here, but he doesn’t care. He pulls you close, hugging you. He is close enough to smell your scent.

“Really it’s nothing. You have just scene a traumatizing scene, you shouldn’t think about scenarios that haven’t passed.”

Peliel is honestly, such a lucky angel to have a mortal so blissfully naive.

You don’t think him creepy for hugging you, infact, you think the gesture was nice, comforting.

“Y/N.”

“I’m sorry?”

“My name, it’s Y/N.”

He smiles, “my name is”—he thinks for a moment—“Pete, my name is Pete.”

You look up at him, your visage twisting to remembrance.

“I know you, you were at the library.” It’s now that you two are a reasonable distance from one another. “You were crouched in that little corner—“

“And you told me you were studying to be a doctor.” He said. “That makes me wonder, shouldn’t you have been able to help him?”

You frown, your face taking a shade of shame.

“I…didn’t pass, turns out I wasn’t even familiar with half the things I doctor should be able to do.”

He rests his hand on your shoulder. “It’s okay, you’ll find your calling.”

For now, Peliel can be the doctor, your doctor.

“I uh, I didn’t know you worked here.”

Peliel purses his lips. “I didn’t know you worked here too.” Liar. “I think I should quit though, after what happened, I don’t think It’d be safe If you—I mean—I continued to work there.”

You smile dimly, “yeah, I guess that makes sense.” You take out a piece of parchment, a pen next, you scribble numbers onto the page. Peliel has no idea what you are trying to do.

It’s cute really, how bashful your getting, presenting the paper to him. “It’s my number. Call me if you need anything.”

He smiles, taking the paper in hand, “alright.”

He sees you more often now.

How lucky he is.

He gets to speak to you more as well. By the heavenly principles, he shouldn’t have such easy access to you, it isn’t in his job description, really, he should only converse with you durning pivotal moments in your life, but bless his heart, he just can’t help it!

He loves you, don’t you know that? He loves you so much it pains his heart.

You’re at a coffee shop, gaze fixed on a laptop screen and fingers tapping gently on the keyboards. For a few moments, he stands outside the window, just watching you.

He loves watching you.

A shaky breath leaves his lips, he wonders how he can merge his life into yours, how he can have you all to himself.

He wants you so bad, did you know that?

No, he needs you.

He mouths the words I love you a million times, then a million times more.

He wants to say it in person.

He watches you.

You tap the keyboards gently.

He watches you.

Your eyes are fixed in the screen.

They should be fixed on him.

He watches you.

Your lips look so soft.

How soft are they to kiss?

He watches you.

Your eyes dazzle his soul.

How will they look when he has you under his d—

He watches you.

He’s always watching you.

How lucky.

He’s infiltrated your day to day life.

One might think this is what Guardian Angels do, they walk through your life as you live it, but Peliel is not the same. He shouldn’t be with you like this.

It’s as If he’s casted a spell on you.

The flowers are more dazzling, the sky is more eccentric, you smell things more in depth now, you feel things more intimately, emotions are more raw, your vision more clear and it is all thanks to you know who.

Well, in actuality you don’t, but that doesn’t matter.

He likes seeing you happy, and yo are happy.

Right?

Well, Peliel thinks you are.

You smile more.

Laugh more.

You are just so…you!

He loves It.

He’s giggling now, thinking about what he is going to do.

What he will do just so he can talk to you.

The winds take a sharp turn, you walk alongside the sidewalk, earphones locked in place, listening to a song on your playlist. When a sharp breeze sets you off your course. Your body slams down on the other direction, hitting a wall of some sort.

No, not a wall, something soft.

Something soft and breathing and moving.

“I think you have some sort of penchant running into me.” He said, recognizing you so much more faster than you can even think to remember him.

His voice is soft, and his hand is around you protectively, so that you don’t injure yourself further.

As if he wasn’t the cause for this.

Sometimes, he thinks why you don’t react the way other mortals do. Usually, they’d scream and curse at someone they see so often and nit know personally, perhaps it is paranoia.

But you are so accepting, so naive—

“It seems I always bump into you when I need saving.” You say shyly.

He blushes.

Saving.

Need.

You need him.

He knew you loved him.

“Are you hurt? That seemed like a really hard fall you had there.”

He is so happy you had that fall. Because if not, he wouldn’t be in this situation. You in his arms.

“I’m fine, are you fine? You tumbled down with me, I’m sorry, I’m probably causing you a lot of pain.” You move to stand up, Peliel has to physically fight himself so he doesn’t pull you down. So he doesn’t come on too strong.

“Do you want to get coffee with me?” He said, blurting it out before he can form cohesive thoughts.

He doesn’t regret it though, not when you gave him such an enticing response.

“Sure, maybe we can get to know each other a bit more.”

He already knows every inch of your being.

But sure, he’ll humor you for the time being.

You get gifts now.

He delivers them to you.

How considerate.

You open the door to your front porch, a crystal, white box addressed to you. Delivered in pristine condition. On it there is an attached note.

For the loveliest rose the heavens could gaze on.

He doesn’t sign it off with his name however. But you are so curious you just simply had to know, you needed to know.

How stupid you were.

A heinous, disgusting shrill came out of your mouth. The birds changed their course and the crickets and insects that surrounded your house grew silent.

Inside the box were a pair of two eyes, another note placed inside.

For the men who dared to look at the loviest rose.

You wanted to puke, you wanted to hurl yourself into a corner and just sob.

Peliel watches.

And truth be told, he does not like the reacting you had given him.

He worked so hard to get this right, to give you a present worthy of your magnificence. And this is how you respond? By screaming as if it is something to abhor? Do you have no gratitude?

But that is okay, he has other gifts in mind.

The next week, you get another package. And this time you had no Will to open it. You didn’t want to open it. You were only outside to read the nite attached to the box.

Lovely rose, I hope you like this present better than the…one before.

You don’t open it. You can’t open it. You won’t open it.

But curiosity knows at you like cornered claws, you can’t continue your day without thinking about it.

It’s always in the back of your mind.

Lovey rose.

Lovely rose.

Lovey rose.

It chips away at you until it is finally night and you cannot go another second without knowing so like a ravaged animal you grasp the box like a depraved creature and claw at it. Until it rips open to reveal…an amethyst ring.

What?

But this makes no sense…

On the ring is another attached note.

The loveliest mineral for the loveliest rose.

Oh you’re fucked now.

Peliel curses himself.

He’s let you stray far away from him.

Your at the same coffee shop, same table, same laptop, but it isn’t the same. Because if it was the same he would be watching you like he always does, he’d be watching you while you tap your delicate fingers gently on the keyboards.

But it is not the same.

Do you want to know why?

Because a incompetent, insolent mortal boy is besides you.

His finger is on you lap, he smiles at you, his gaze fixed on you.

Who does he think he is? Doesn’t he know that position is only reserved for him? Wasn’t this the place you and him visited just last week? Wasn’t this the place you two bought coffees together and had a pleasant conversation? Wasn’t this the place you smiled at him like you knew him even before your birth? Wasn’t this the place that cemented the fact that you belonged to him?

That he belonged to you?

He watches in rage, he watches seething, fingers curling into a fist, all he wants to do is wipe that mortal boy off the face of this planet.

He doesn’t deserve you like Peliel does.

He didn’t earn you like Peliel did.

What is this?

Have you forsaken him? Was every encounter you had with him nothing? You said you needed him, you said that exact word remember?

So why is he watching this.

Why is he watching this and feeling so—so jealous!

But Peliel, your very smart Guardian Angel, always has a plan. He watches you, rage mixed with absolute devotion and adoration and devises a plan.

He smiles just thinking about.

This way, he can have you all to himself, without…hinderances.

Yes, you might be a little angry with him for the first couple of weeks. You may actually be a little scared. Confused, distraught, anxious.

But it’ll all be worth it.

Besides, he’s sure you’ll come around to living with him in the mountains, isolated from the rest if the world, just you and him, forever.

Hell just have to kidnap you there first.

—

A/N: thank you for being so patient while I worked on this. I made it extra long so you guys could savor it a bit more, and also because I believe it needed to be this long so you could understand fully Peliel infatuation with Y/N. I have ideas on how I can expand this story, but don’t get your hopes up because I’m not sure if it’ll come into fruition. I love you all so much and thank you for reading.

Happy new year!

[tf2incorrectquotes]

Heavy: *petting a dove while Medic prepares for the Uber procedure* Doktor has so many birds. Where find them?

Medic: Oh, here and there. I met Archimedes while stealing a catering van from a wedding!

Heavy: ...Why?

Medic: *blinks at him* Why wouldn't I steal a Catering Van from a Wedding? Where else would you steal a Catering Van?

Heavy: ...fair enough.

[a-twistedheartslonging]

About your non human au

Got a bit of a ramble plus a question but it's a bit long

How open to cuddling are the Nrc folks? Or more like, how willing and upfront/obvious about wanting scritches and pets is everyone in Nonhuman au. I was wondering where on the sliding scale of "unabashedly unashamedly asking for cuddles" vs "i totally do not want cuddles but if you don't give attention to me i will be upset for completely unrelated reasons that have nothing to do with not being petted and cuddled"

(also due to my garbo memory, i can't remember if basically the majority of all of NRC is now nonhuman in this au but i do recall that humans are rare so I'm gonna put in the other NRC folks too in case also cause it's fun)

I feel like the most upfront and unabashed about demanding or asking for scritches would be Lilia of course. Followed by Ace (i feel like he's desperately trying to act smug and jokey about it but he will be genuinely upset if you turn him down or worse get annoyed and actually go to someone else). Deuce i feel like wouldn't necessarily be super upfront (he's uber embarrassed and doesn't know how to go about communicating that) but he will do what he thinks will get what he wants without being too pushy. Lots of Deuce being fairly clingy and lots of casual leaning on reader/yuu but Deuce would get flustered easily i believe and he doesn't have the word weaving skills like Ace to try to bluff his way out. Also Floyd will give Lilia a run for his money with how vocal and willing to go get his damn cuddles. Kalim as well but he's not as likely to gun for Reader/Yuu like Lilia or Floyd. More of an impromptu decision based on encounters.

Cater, Trey, Jack, maybe even Ruggie and Jade are less openly vocal and pushy about their scritches and cuddles. They are more likely to be casual i believe and also try to sneak in their wants. However they probably won't deny nor completely avoid the want for pets or grooming. Rook can technically be placed here too cause i feel like he wants to have attention on him but also he wants his little mischievous chase games in the mix (he's being chased and the reward is pets) but he doesn't want to miss out on that relaxation time just in case the lil human can't keep up. Some good old Rook complexity in there involving wanting to be accepted to be seen and to see beauty but also an odd sense of trepidation and almost shyness, he might even half joke about how you're trying to tame him and that you should be responsible for those you tame

The last group definitely feels like the type to never outright demand or ask for cuddles scritches or pets but they will be soo petty and irritated if they think they're not getting their due attention. Jealous tsunderes to me lol. Leona, Vil, Riddle, Idia and Malleus go in this category but for different reasons. Leona and Vil just have a lot of pride and an image they're trying to uphold. Riddle and Idia are soo touch starved and socially awkward that they both don't know how to go about communicating what they want but also they don't know how to handle it when they're actually interacting. (riddle is so socially awkward but he at least has a plethora of rules to work off of unlike idia). Malleus is awkward and out of his depth so i think he just wouldn't know how to express what he wants but he's very jealous of the others for getting their own cuddles so easily in comparison

Loving the ideas you got!

I do love a good ramble.

Ok, so

“How open to cuddling are the Nrc folks?” 

With the guys at that school in general It's sort of a case-by-case type thing and depends on the person in particular. Kind of like how some people are cool with physical affection or hugs but some aren't, and with others, you gotta build up a bond for them to be cool with it. Some of the beasties aren't gonna want some random person touching them, just like a regular person wouldn't be cool with it.

A thing to remember though that changes the circumstance is, that this is a school full of a bunch of hormonal dudes and you happen to be a cute exotic little thing. So some are gonna be cooler with that curious touching just for that…though you should be wary of their intentions.

But that’s just an in general thing for the students, it's gonna be dif with the main guys since they know you and you went through all that stuff with them. You guys are homies.

Looking at what you wrote I say you're pretty spot on with how open those certain main guys would be to it. Adding on to the Lilia bit, not only in his regular form is he perfect for petting but in this au, he has two other forms he can switch into: A big scary sexy bat monster and…adorable little actual bat that you can keep in your pocket. Being in the latter form lets him conserve energy and magic so he likes to chill in it, another benefit is how freaking ADORABLE he is in it, and he uses it to his advantage with no shame.

Pet him, brush him, tell him how cute he is, and kiss his little face. The funest thing to do is feed him little cherry tomatoes and watch him go ham on them. Have you seen those cute vids of fruit bats eating stuff? Well, you should.

Ace and Deuce are clingy little things but in different ways. Deuce wants you to touch him so badly but he’s anxious about making you uncomfortable or you thinking he’s weird. Being a girl would add more to that. Also you call him a good boy while showing him affection he will die. P.S. When he goes home for the break and his mom smells you on him she is going to ask him so many questions and tease him. Please help him.

Ace is…regardless of what creature he is in the au he has asshole cat energy. Like, he's clingy and demands attention at the worst time but when you're in the mood he's like “Meh” but then gets pissy when you go to or smell like someone else. Passive aggressively scents all your stuff.

Floyd and Kalim have no shame in asking. Though with Kalim it's asking and although he’ll get sad when you're busy or not in the mood for it he’ll respect it. Floyd does not. He is like one of those big ass dogs that will straight up lay on you and won't move. Kalim keeps offering to hire you as his personal cuddle giver/groomer and his parents encourage it since having a human serve under you shows status, not that he cares about that.

My god, Cater would use you for so many videos.

So true for the “won't be vocal about it” thing. Cater is gonna “Haha…unless?” about it. Trey, Ruggie, and Jade would definitely manipulate situations so that you WILL pet them. Ruggie is gonna act like he's doing you a favor so you end up cuddling AND feeding him. Jack is still very much a tsundere about it, will probably take a while to get him to let you and he wants to do it in private.

Rook…another with no shame in accepting it. He’s so used to being the one doing the chasing. It's nice having someone so interested in him and giving him praise. He’s still gotta keep some of his mystery so he won't tell you things but he's gonna ask you all kinds of questions and want to take…terns with touching. He’s as interested in your unique body as you are with his. Take that however you want. 

Leona will straight up tell Ruggie to go get you and bring you to his room for Touching Time. With certain affection, he doesn't want others to see but with other kinds, he wants to show off. Especially if your mates.

Vil is pretty particular about what he allows you to do and how you touch him. Do not mess up his hair or feathers. 

Riddle and Idia. Even if he likes you it will take time for him to be cool it. Both want the affection given to be privet. Riddle actually puts together a Snuggle Scedual and gets pretty pissed if someone or someone interrupts or makes it run late. God forbid it gets canceled. Tbh for both of them it's kind of…cuddle therapy? For Riddle it helps with his anger and feelings of loneliness and the lack of affection he's had to deal with since…well forever.

For Idia…tbh I can't help but picture him as one of those anxiety-riddled dogs that's always shaking. You kind of end up his Emotional Support Human and if he absolutely has to leave his room he's keeping you close and hiding behind you, even if you're smol.

Is Mal awkward? Heck yes, but he is also touch-starved and greedy. You'll be lucky if his dragon instincts don't kick in have him keep you in his nest forever. Once he figures out “Oh…these touches are pretty nice.” He won't be shy about physical affection, even with the others around. Might get territorial and you should prob talk to him about it, so he doesn’t end up…going all dragon about it.

[ohnococo]

Fight Night | CHAPTER 5 | MMA Fighter!Sukuna x Reader

While you’d come to tolerate the risk of being ass out and full of cum in the dark of a nightclub while out of your mind on drugs, you weren’t willing to accept the same in a cute little lunch spot in the middle of town. 

Sukuna invites you out for lunch.

Warnings: Vaginal sex, public sex, squirting, manhandling, car sex

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

You’re hesitant to set expectations with Sukuna, not just yet. It feels like it’s too hard to get a read on him, and it’s hard not to think a man like him could take advantage if he really felt like it. Even though he’s made it clear that you’ll keep seeing him for now, and that he enjoys your company in some capacity, he’s still the man that fucked you raw and disappeared completely from your life in the days between doing it all over again. Then disappeared for two months on top of it.

It doesn’t help that he clearly has his whims catered to often by those around him. With that in mind, you can’t help feeling like you needed to figure out if you were just one of those whims, or if it was more. Otherwise you couldn’t even entertain the feelings you spent far too much time trying to minimise. But, as you remind yourself again, he said in no uncertain terms that he would be keeping you around, so you treat it like a kind of fresh start.

A fresh start where he was already setting a less than ideal “first” impression. You hadn’t stuck around long at his house the last time you saw him, leaving before dinner because you had just shifted plans with your friends back a little rather than bailing completely. He’d left you with a parting gift, another orgasm while you pushed aside the worry in the back of your mind about how near your Uber was to picking you up, but he’d sent you out just in time nonetheless. Then, nothing.

No text, no call, nothing at all for the rest of the week. You didn’t want it to bother you, you didn’t want to be clingy, but there was a clear pattern here that wasn’t shifting along with whatever was happening between you two.

But then Sunday finally comes and so does a text from Sukuna, now named properly in your phone. It has those inconvenient butterflies stirring up again in your stomach, and it has you pushing your worries aside as you read his message and remind yourself hey, blank slate, right?

Then you read the text again, smiling to yourself.

have you had lunch?

It’s still not a proper greeting, but it somehow felt a little warmer than his usual opening. Warm enough to try pushing him to be a little more clear with you.

why, you gonna take me out?

When he texts back right away yet again it has you on the verge of swaying side to side and giggling like a schoolgirl before you snap out of it and remind yourself that this was really the bare minimum.

wouldn’t be the first time

Technically he’s right, but this is different. For you at least, and the small pit in your stomach as your emotions teeter back towards anxiety starts to remind you why putting yourself out there can be such a nuisance. It all seems so much easier for him though, so you push that aside and try to make it easy for you too.

yeah but this time it sounds like you’re asking me on a date

You see that he’s typing, then stops, and you’re left staring at your screen for what felt like an eternity. You read your message back and find yourself wishing you’d been able to say it in real life to get your tone across. It was joking, lighthearted, except it wasn’t entirely… but in plain text it looked a little more cold than you really wanted it to be.

well?

Well? Well? You know it hadn’t taken him that long just to type one word, but you decide to just get out of your head, and get out of your house, texting back your agreement to this lunch date. As usual, he’s already got a place in mind, sending you the name and address. Then,

i’m guessing you’ll be more comfortable in something casual here

The heads up is appreciated, though you’re annoyed that he’s obviously picked up on how awkward you’d felt being so overdressed during your last encounter. You still take his advice though, opting for jeans and a fairly simple top, flat shoes too. When you give yourself a final once over in the mirror, makeup simpler, accessories in place, you feel like he might not recognize you. But you feel like yourself, and that’s good enough to send you to your meeting place feeling more clear-headed than last time.

It helps that you actually know what your plans are, of course.

As you walk into the modern little cafe, Sukuna is easily spotted amongst the tables, and it occurs to you that with his size and appearance he’s incapable of being truly casual. How he’d looked last time was the closest he likely got, but here he’s closer to his clubbing attire than that. Nice pants, leather belt, button up shirt that had to be custom made to fit a body like his. It is toned down though, no flashy sheen to his shirt, no chain, not even one of his giant watches that probably cost more than a month’s rent.

You catch his attention as quickly as he’d caught yours, and he’s eyeing you up before you even reach your seat. The inevitable remark on your appearance is ready by the time you’re sitting down across from him at the little metal table and sliding your purse onto the floor.

“Who’s this cute little girl next door?”

He seems intent on earning an eye roll from you first thing every time, so you oblige as you lean back into your seat, not letting his tone go unnoticed by him slipping ‘cute’ in there. “I’m not always dressed like a party girl. Shocking, I know.”

He cocks a brow and you can see from his smile that something wicked is on the tip of his tongue, so you stop him there.

“Behave.”

Sukuna is a bit taken aback at that, but pleased as well as he chuckles, “You look good.”

You smile, feeling a warmth in your chest that he seemed compliant.

“Especially those thighs.”

And you’re back to rolling your eyes. You let out a dismissive sigh, picking up the menu in front of you, deciding you were done humouring him. Even if you have to purse your lips to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth because, well, it was still a compliment.

He’s silent, until you look up at him over your menu and see him watching you carefully, smiling as if he knew very well that his words had blood rushing to your face. You are actually hungry though, so you redirect the course of the conversation.

“Anyway.”

His brows raise in an apparent acceptance of your shift in tone, and he sits back and sips the water he’d already had waiting at the table. “The salmon is nice here.”

“Like nice nice, or extra protein for your muscles nice.”

“Well cooked, well seasoned. The muscles will take a little more than a meal to build, though.” His review is playfully pointed, and you nod, considering the options before you.

As you make your choice, asking Sukuna for his feedback on a few things since he seemed familiar with the place, you don’t even notice how easy things seem for a moment. It isn’t until you’ve both ordered, and wait with your drinks that you realise how relaxed things feel between you two out in public, surrounded by people having as quiet an afternoon as the two of you were. There’s a different energy present, one that makes you feel like it might be okay to consider that there’s something there from both sides of the table.

It makes it hard for you to keep from smiling at seemingly nothing as Sukuna is telling you about his morning, which had started much earlier than yours. Talking about runs, about flinging heavy ropes, about flinging heavy men until they asked him to go a little easier on them because it was just training. You could see that it was more than that for him, though. It’s incredible how he can seem less intimidating when talking about these things. He was honing his body to hurt people after all, but it was clearly something he truly loved. He almost seemed boyish as he talked about it. Maybe even cute.

His hand is next to yours on the table, with his index finger resting on one of your knuckles. It’s an odd form of affection, but it has you trying your very best to keep your attention on him and not the small touch once it connects. When he starts tracing a small line up and across your fingers you jump in to contribute to the conversation, forcing yourself to focus.

“You’re not that scary for practising submissions too, right?”

His brows move up then down again, almost a twitch it’s so fast, but you can tell he’s surprised you seemed to know anything about what this part of his life might entail. “I don’t hold back, there’s no point in that.”

“So you’re just out here trying to break legs on the daily?” You let out an exaggerated puff of air, shaking your head. “You couldn’t pay me to train with you.”

He leans forward, extending his arm forward to slide his finger up your hand and along your arm as he does. The table is small enough, or rather Sukuna is big enough, that he can rest his arm parallel to yours as he traces his fingers idly near your elbow.

“It’s a good thing you aren’t aiming to get in any fights then. You don’t have a face meant for hurting anyway.”

You want to ask what kind of face you do have, in his opinion, but your waiter is approaching with food in hand so you sit back in your seat to give him the space to set your plates down.

Sukuna’s appetite is as big when he’s sober as it was when he wasn’t, and you find yourself surprised he was finished eating just when you were, despite ordering several extra sides of steamed veg. It feels familiar in a nice way though, the comfortable silence as he eats, and you waiting for whatever comes next.

It turns out, it’s more talking, something you’re coming to enjoy more and more with him. This time, you’re recounting your stressful week at work, plates long cleared, another glass of water being dropped off at your table.

“I just can’t fucking stand him, he’s so sneaky. He’ll never respond to emails either, he’s always running to your desk so you never get any of his bullshit in writing.”

Sukuna’s lip curls lightly, and he speaks like you two were even remotely on the same level financially, “Don’t put up with that.”

“He’s the department head’s little brown noser, no one can say anything about him.”

He half shrugs, “Then go somewhere else. You don’t need them.”

“I can’t just go somewhere else, you don’t go and get a job just like that.”

“You can.”

He says it like it’s an indisputable fact, like a shitty office job was remotely the same as being able to beat people up so well that you were any old company’s darling moneymaker. It should annoy you more, but your brain is more focused on how confident he had been that you could do better. Despite his being slightly out of touch, you can’t help feeling flattered that he seems to think highly of you.

Your discussion is stopped for now though as the waiter comes over to drop off your bill. He sets it down in the middle of the two of you before heading off to whisk away another table’s empty glasses. Sukuna is quick to reach for it, but when you put a hand on top of the corner of it, pinning it to the table, he frowns at you.

“I want to pay.”

He scoffs, pushing your hand away easily and reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. “No.”

It’s said with a sense of finality and a curled lip that imply there was no point in even thinking of questioning it, but something about today leaves you unshaken.

“Yes.”

He looks at you, amused, but clearly still discounting your persistence. Then, with a sternness so fierce you remember how often he must go unquestioned, he repeats, “No.”

You sit back, crossing your arms, drawing your lips into a pout. He’s unmoved, continuing to open his wallet and pull out a card, eyes on you all the while.

“Sukuna, how many meals have you bought me?” The drinks, the drugs, the entrance fees, those all go unmentioned.

His hand lifts, signalling the waiter nonetheless, but when he looks back at you that amused chuckle rings out and you wonder if you’ve somehow won him over.

Apparently you have, sort of, as he sighs and gives you his compromise, “You can pay next time.”

It shouldn’t feel like such a victory, but it does, and you’re practically bouncing in your seat as you sit up a little straighter and smile. “That’s what I thought.”

Your lighthearted antagonism amuses him further and he shakes his head at you. And you decide to retreat with your half-win. “Anyway, where’s the bathroom? I’ve gotta pee.”

Sukuna points to a little hall at the back of the cafe, and you pull your purse onto your shoulder as you give him a nod of thanks as the waiter approaches and he begins settling your check.

The bathroom is as stylish as the rest of the place, a single enclosed room with glossy dark green subway tiles and gold fixtures. As you shut and lock the door behind you, you take the opportunity of a little privacy to let out a long breath. It was going well, really really well. Another deep breath, another unstoppable smile, and you handle your business quickly.

As you wash and dry your hands, you look at yourself in the mirror. You feel present, hopeful even. Like something good was happening, instead of just something uncertain. Sukuna had taken you out. Not just somewhere to fuck, out on an actual date. You were actually getting to know each other on a level that felt more intimate, despite it being surface level in comparison to some of the things you’d done together. Still, it felt like progress.

You open the door, and gasp when you see Sukuna standing right there, massive frame blocking out the much brighter lighting of the cafe behind him.

“Jesus, don’t hover outside like that. It’s creepy.”

He doesn’t appear to have even heard your light scolding, large hands coming forward to grip your hips, pushing you back into the privacy of the bathroom as he reaches back to close the door behind him. Instead he’s focused on bringing his mouth to yours, kissing you roughly, hands already sliding behind you to grab at your ass. He squeezes hard enough to have you letting out a small squeak into his mouth before one of his hands is sliding up your back to hold the back of your neck, letting you recline into his grasp as his tongue explores your mouth.

His cock is already hard when he presses his hips against you, and you pull back to speak right when he does the same, but he’s quicker, and it leaves your mind racing until you’ve forgotten what you were even going to say.

“You can’t talk to me like that and expect to not get fucked.”

It was your usual playful banter, but apparently it had done something for him. Enough to have him kissing you until you’re both out of breath, both needy for each other. He pulls back again, tongue reaching out to lick at your open mouth before he’s turning you around and bending you over the sink, trying to keep his eyes on yours in your reflection as he paws at your jeans for access.

You know he’s not exerting himself, not really, but he’s still panting as he finally undoes your pants and roughly tugs them down your hips. “Your thighs really do look amazing in these, but they’re fucking inconvenient.”

Your hands are quick to help, starting to worry he might actually rip them if you don’t, and while you’d come to tolerate the risk of being ass out and full of cum in the dark of a nightclub while out of your mind on drugs, you weren’t willing to accept the same in a cute little lunch spot in the middle of town.

He’s impatient once they’re over your ass, shoving them only a few more inches down, then tugging your panties down to meet them as well. He pushes the middle of your back downward, making you arch so he can access your pussy more easily, and he’s foregoing foreplay in favour of sliding inside of you as quickly as possible. Luckily for you, the clatter of his belt being undone has your body responding almost as much as his kisses and firm hands had moments before, and when you feel his thick fingers fanned across your thighs and ass, spreading you, you hold your breath in wait of that familiar feel of his fat tip pushing at your entrance.

When he has just the head anchored inside of you, your eyes shut, letting a long slow breath out as your walls stretch to accommodate him so suddenly. When the sting is a little too much, you open your eyes and find he’s watching your face intently, catching a wince of discomfort in your expression before he’s spitting down and onto where your pussy was gripping him tightly. He pumps in and out, shallow thrusts spreading the saliva around until he’s spitting again, giving you a little more relief as he slowly shoves his way in deeper.

As you squeeze and rock back into him he leans over you, bracing his hands just above where yours were positioned on the sink. He practically purrs into your ear with his deep groans, kissing along your neck, biting at your clothed shoulder, and rutting into you like he might not fit this time.

“You’re so tight like this, can you even take it all?”

He knows you can, but his words leave you dizzy as you arch your back more and stick out your ass for him to be able to slide deeper, until he’s buried to the hilt. Then he’s sucking air in through his teeth as he reckons with the tight squeeze of the position even as he’s thrusting at a steadily quickening pace. It’s not long before he’s fucking you properly, your breasts bouncing with the force of his snapping hips, head lulling forward, knuckles white from clinging to the porcelain sink for balance. His hand wraps around you, arm keeping you up as he grabs your jaw and forces you to keep your face up and looking into the mirror.

“Don’t hide from me.”

Your eyes roll back, heat building in your stomach as his cock churns at your insides.

“I need to see your face.”

You bite your lip, trying your hardest to stay quiet, even though all you wanted to be doing was whining his name while the underside of his cock, and those thick metal piercings, put a blinding pressure on the spot that had your toes curling in your shoes.

It feels strange, like your pussy is trembling uncontrollably though your orgasm hasn’t quite come yet, like the pressure inside of you is more present than it ever has been before. When you start to fold in on yourself, arching your hips forward as you move your hands onto either side of the mirror in front of you, he’s forced to only give you shallow thrusts and his tip is angled to press against your sweet spot in a way that has you panicking, realising exactly what’s going to happen.

“Sukuna stop!”

“Stop? When you’re gripping me like this?” He’s still thrusting, like he’s unable to control himself as he outright laughs at your frantic request.

“I’m gonna squirt, stop!”

His laugh is wicked, and far too loud for where you were, “Saying that isn’t going to stop me.” He means it, forcing his hand between your tightly clenched legs, finger shoving its way between your pussy lips to rub at your clit roughly.

There’s genuine fear in your eyes as it only pushes you closer, and you pull at his arm, pleading. “Please, stop. We can’t hide it, please!”

You’re half frightened that your pleas will fall on deaf ears with the way Sukuna was already worked up into a frenzy, but he takes in your face and stops. He doesn’t say a word, but his gaze is off of you for the first time since he’d slipped inside of you, and he’s pulling out, tucking himself away as you lean over the sink, head hanging as you catch your breath while your whole pussy feels like it’s throbbing.

Then, he’s roughly tugging your pants up, and you’re forced to quickly zip and button them with trembling hands as he unlocks the door, grabbing your bag in one hand, your arm in the other, and pulling you through the restaurant. It’s a little embarrassing, the way he was handling you in front of all these people, but you also know looking like you’d pissed yourself from squirting down and onto your light blue jeans would have absolutely been worse.

You can barely keep up with his long strides, though you’re forced to as he doesn’t let go, heading into a parking garage next to the block the cafe was on. You have to actually catch your breath when he stops in front of the elevator, pressing the button impatiently as you’re now grateful for his firm grip keeping you standing. With the suddenness of his movements, and the budding orgasm that you’d halted earlier, your legs are weak.

When the door dings and opens, he finally lets go of you after pulling you inside, roughly jabbing at the button for the 4th floor, then the close door button. You lean back against the wall, still trying to get your wits about you, and you swear you can feel the tension rolling off of him as the elevator quickly makes its way up. His jaw is clenched, he’s shifting from side to side, and swallowing thick. You don’t have to ask him to turn around to know he’s still hard.

The smallest wave of relief washes over you as the elevator door opens and you see that there were hardly any cars on this floor of the garage, and you’re not surprised Sukuna had parked somewhere so quiet as he tugs you in the direction of a shiny black Range Rover. You can only imagine the hell that would be raised if someone scratched his car.

Your thoughts are back on him as he’s grabbing you again and pulling you over to his car and unlocking it quickly. He shoves you into the back, cool leather squeaking as your elbows hit the seats, then throws your bag into the front before he’s on top of you in seconds, having not even bothered pulling the door shut.

“You can’t steal that from me.”

He’s pulling at your jeans again, and you’re forced to scramble to undo them again even as you voice your confusion, “what?”

“This cunt was ready to make a mess, for me.” He tugs your jeans and panties down, then over your feet and off, the force pulling off one of your shoes in the process before they’re tossed over and into the front seat. He’s so serious you’d be genuinely frightened if he were talking about anything other than making you cum, unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it aside to join your jeans in the front as he speaks, “Now give it to me.”

His demand is serious, as he frees his still-hard cock again and puts one of your legs over his shoulders, folding you in half as he leans over you and lines himself up.

“Sukuna- ah!” You’re squirming beneath him, cock buried to the hilt inside of you in no time. Still, you try to manage his expectations. “Sukuna I can’t just make that happen.”

“Yes you can.” It’s oddly encouraging, but you can’t dwell on that when he’s pulling your other leg up too, bracing himself on the backs of your thighs as he presses you further into your uncomfortable position.

You understand his thinking perfectly once his long thrusts start leaving just his tip anchored inside of you before he’s pushing back in and you feel that undeniable pressure again as he has you angled just right. He sees it, from the way your eyes roll back, lips forming an ’oh that your lungs don’t let you release. He sees it even more clearly once he’s moving fast and your pussy is gripping him tight even though it’s impossibly slippery.

He moves one hand further into your thigh, still keeping you in place, but able to swipe his thumb at your clit. It’s so intense you can hardly make a sound, though with the door still open and the car rocking with the force of his thrusts it would be undeniable to any passerby what was happening.

It’s like you can feel his cock throbbing even more like this, and when you lock your eyes on his you know he’s nearly as close as you are. He leans further over you. Kissing and biting at your calves as you’re forced even deeper into your position, legs nearly at your ears.

The sounds of your pussy only get louder, and as that pressure builds again you’re ready to let it burst, panting out an urgent cry of his name just as your climax hits. You can’t even think, orgasm ripping through you as you finally find your lungs enough to let out a long whine, voice shaking when the last of the air is being forced out in your prolonged cry.

“Fuck, there you go.” He’s pulling out, swiping his fat tip over the spray of juices while he keeps up his movements on your clit, absolutely soaking both himself and the back seat.

Then you cry out again, thighs shaking, as he slides back into you. His body cages you in as he fucks you hard and fast, ready to finish even as you’re being pushed into overstimulation, but you want it, so you grab onto his ass as he thrusts. He offers you an encouraging groan at this, and when you lean forward as much as you can to bite and suck at his pecs, all you can reach while folded in half, he’s practically roaring out his approval as his stomach tenses and he fills you with his cum, thrusts hard enough to have your legs jumping in his grasp.

He keeps snapping his hips against yours a few times, even though his balls are already emptied inside of your twitching pussy, until you’re squirming and pushing at him. When he pulls out, he leans back, looking at your fucked out hole involuntarily pushing his cum out as you clench with the aftershocks, then at the sweet little droplets covering your thighs and ass.

You aren’t looking at anything at all, eyes shut as you come down from your high. Once he’s sliding his fingers in you, pressing at your walls, pulling more cum out to join what was already on his seats, you finally open your eyes, surveying the damage. There’s plenty of those same droplets all across his abdomen, and as you look around, all over his back seat too.

“Oh my god, your car.”

Sukuna chuckles, eyes now on your fucked out yet worried expression, and he swallows thickly before his fingers leave you and he’s tucking himself away. “It’s leather, it’ll be fine.”

You take his word for it, stretching your legs out as he gets out of the car and pops the trunk open. He returns with a gym bag, pulling out a towel and wiping off his own stomach before tossing it to you.

“Jesus,” you pant, taking the towel and rubbing up and down your soaked thighs, “thank god you’re a gym freak.”

He surprisingly has nothing to say to that, seemingly too content to have gotten his way as he reaches into the front to retrieve his shirt, then your jeans. You guess he’ll have to deal with his ruined pants later as he gets into the driver’s seat, looking back and waiting for you to join him.

During the drive home Sukuna is quiet, and not in a comfortable silence, a tense one. His jaw is clenched, so is his hand on the steering wheel, and every so often his hand tightens on your thigh as he lets out one of his annoyed sighs. It’s leaving an unpleasant taste in your mouth, so you decide it’s best to be direct.

“What’s wrong?”

He glances at you, as if the question came out of nowhere, and you think it’s cute that he seemed unaware of his tells slipping. His jaw relaxes and he moves his hand from your thigh to make a sharp turn before placing it back.

“I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Me squirting?”

He glances at you again, and lets out a half chuckle that seems to slightly dissipate the tension that had been coming off him in waves. “No, the fucking.”

Your mouth is left hanging open at that admission, when he was the one that had come barging into the bathroom, “You didn’t want to fuck?”

“I was trying not to fuck you.”

The ‘why’ of it all is pushed aside for the unavoidable need to poke fun at him just a little “So there is something Ryomen Sukuna can’t do,” the words aren’t out before you’re chuckling at the ridiculousness of it all, “you can’t not fuck me?”

Despite your laughter, your words have his jaw clenching again, hand tightening on both your thigh and the steering wheel as he finally pulls up to your place.

“Okay, okay, then don’t fuck me.”

He parks, turning to look at you with a slight sneer, like you were still daring to mock him.

“I’m serious.”

His eyes narrow, like he suddenly wants no part of it now that it’s presented as you telling him what to do, so you rephrase it.

“Next time we go out somewhere, we aren’t going to fuck. Think of it as a challenge.”

The sneer dissipates, and leaves a mild curiosity in its place as he considers your challenge. Then, he shrugs. “Fine.”

You smile, and so does he, though it’s a much more muted expression. With your confidence slightly bolstered, you decide to make another demand too.

“And text me too.”

“What?”

“Text me.”

“Right now?” He’s genuinely confused by your half-formed demand.

“Always. I mean… whenever. Not just when you want to fuck me.”

He sighs, brows raising as he gives you a tone that tells you he won’t repeat his sentiment again, “I told you I didn’t intend to fuck you.”

“But you did. And you didn’t speak to me all week.”

“You know I have-“

“And!” Your interruption has his eyes narrowing, but he allows you to continue nonetheless, even when you pause for a moment to let your words catch up with your brain.

“I think,” or rather, you hope, “that doesn’t really line up with whatever your intentions are.”

There’s a shift in the air, like Sukuna is considering closing himself off from this, eyes pulling focus as his face goes blank and he’s silent for a long, heavy moment. Then he speaks quietly, and you wonder if he’d meant to speak out loud at all, “You wipe off that makeup and put on a pair of jeans and suddenly you’re even more of a brat than usual.”

Whether he’d intended his words to have a bite or not, they’re effectively toothless to you, not when he wasn’t outright saying he wouldn’t give you a little more attention.

“A cute brat though, right?”

His tight line of a mouth spreads into a begrudging smile, and he leans in, large hand coming up to hold your jaw, and the way he carefully enunciates his words has your heart racing again.

“Yes. A cute. Brat.”

CHAPTER 6

[ceilidho]

ghost working as security at an upscale wedding while you're one of the caterers responsible for the food.

you catch his eye because he's posted facing the entrance to the kitchen where you keep coming and going from (hustling to make sure everything's perfect and bringing out other dishes as the night goes on) but neither of you can do anything about it except make eyes at each other because you're both on the job.

cut to hours later, well into the early morning when the party's starting to wind down and you're helping with the clean up but the big man looming by the pillar on the other side of the room is gone and you just sigh and try to keep your mind on the task at hand. only for him to step out of nowhere while you're waiting in the front of the reception hall trying to find an uber that doesn't cost half your day's wages and offers to drive you home.

[angelofthenight]

Kenchanted Pt.1

(Ken x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Lost in the chaotic and gritty human world, you come to Ken’s rescue. He’s determined to find his one true love who is also lost in the human world, Barbie, and despite your cynical and pessimistic view of “true love”, you help. You and Ken’s views of life and love are constantly clashing and arguments constantly follow. Yet the more time you spend together, you both begin to fall in love with the epitome of everything you once disagreed with. But you are both promised to others and you are from two different worlds, pink and grey.

Warnings: Swearing, V brief harassment (nothing intense), YN thinks Ken is mentally ill/disturbed, Mentions of police

( Super special thanks for my pookie mutual @detectiveapparatiagreen for proofreading for triggers💖 )

Word Count: 3.5k

Tropes Used: Grumpy x Sunshine, She fell first/He fell harder, Slow burn, Unexpected/Unintentional pining, Fantasy vs Reality

( This is based off the Disney movie Enchanted so it’s kinda like an AU, with a touch of Warm Bodies and Aquamarine. Also I named YN’s boyfriend after Oppenheimer in honor of Barbenheimer but I just realized that a Robert is in Enchanted too😭. Also this is steering off a bit from canon in the Barbie movie to cater more to Enchanted’s storyline so Ken doesn’t become a typical man/antagonist.

And lastly YN is basically Ken’s opposite personality-wise and clothing color palette-wise, I typically always have all my YN’s fashion style ambiguous in my stories unless it’s a direct effect to the story so that’s why I’m just forewarning )

Table of Contents

(R/n) = Roommates name

“God, learn to have a little fun, bitch!”

You flipped out your middle finger over your shoulder as you walked away without looking back at the man near the bar. Despite your platant rejections and constant explanations that you were about to leave the club, the man that approached you with sexual intentions still ran his mouth on how you should let him buy you a drink. You endlessly declined and when he began to grow impatient and rude that’s when you told him off and marched off to find your roommate, (R/n), in the crowd who had gone to retrieve your coats.

The music thrusted into your eardrums and rumbled your brain so intensely you wondered if you’d be able to get away with calling off work the next morning. You leaned against a wall to take off your heels, leaving your feet in just your pantyhose as (R/n) reunited with you holding both hers and your own jacket in her arms. She laid your jacket over your shoulders and you instantly huddled it around your short dress to prepare to step into the breezy, rainy night.

“Of course the night we finally have the energy to go clubbing is the night we have work in the early morning.” (R/n) chuckled into your ear as the two of you left through the doors in giggles. Once out into the storming outdoors, (R/n) and you stood by a wall under some shade as she began to order an uber through her phone to get you guys back home. You yawned as you people watched while you waited for her to order, letting your eyes wander and linger on the LA characters that either rushed past you with jackets over their head or walking with umbrellas.

Some you could assume were clubbing like you, some ran to catch cabs, some looked to be just getting out of work. Each person that crossed your line of vision were all different and unique… but there was one specific individual that made you do a double-take: the bleach blond man wearing rollerblades and blindingly bright neon that stood out in the dark night.

He was sitting on the curb of the sidewalk getting drenched by the rain with his head in his hands, seemingly sobbing dramatically. You frowned in concern and curiosity. You faintly nudged your friend. “Is that guy okay?” Your friend looked up at you with confusion until she looked over to where your eyes were locked. She wasn’t as worried as you and simply brushed him off. “Huh? Oh… Just leave him to it.”

That offered no apathy to cease your attention on the bold man. You just couldn’t brush him off no matter how hard you tried, it was like you were feeling this magnetic pull towards him. “I’m just gonna go check on him.” You told your friend as you stepped into the thundering storm with your hand acting as a shield above your eyes to prevent rain hitting them, and began walking towards the perfectly tanned stranger.

You stopped once you were right next to him, the cold droplets of water quickly dampening your styled hair. “Hey. Are you alright?” You said, loud enough for him to hear you over the rain.

The bleach blond thrashed his face out of his hands to look up at you with tears endlessly flooding out of his blue eyes and his lips trembling. “No! I am not alright!” He loudly wailed out. “Barbie got arrested! And they wouldn’t take me with her! I tried to follow them but then I got lost in this humongous place! But while I was wandering I discovered that men on horses rule this world and at first that seemed so awesome but I still couldn’t even do anything because I need a bunch of papers to do stuff! And even though I am a man, people are still not being very nice to me!”

He already lost you a while ago with his fast yet confusing words which prompted you to stare blankly, but his last complaint resonated with you enough to erupt a chuckle from you. “Yeah, well, welcome to LA.”

The man halted his dramatic crying to stare at you with his watering eyes lighting up. “Thank you.” He breathed out with a sniffle and a grateful tone of voice. Your smile twitched down and your brows furrowed at him.

“And I lost my visor cap! And now I am leaking from my eyes!” He suddenly exclaimed as he touched his wet cheeks. “But the worst part of it all is…” he reached up to grip onto his soaking wet blond locks, “my hair is WET! Why is the sky sprinkling water and making my hair flat and squishy?!” He yelled and physically jumped and yelped like a child when lightning cracked in the sky.

You didn’t mean to just stare blankly stare at him with your mouth slightly open and your eyebrows slightly furrowed, but you just didn’t know how to react to how this man, who you were now assuming wasn’t right in the head, was acting. “You mean the rain?” You finally asked with multiple confused blinks.

The man harshly sniffled again. “Well, I HATE the rain!” He yelled while glaring up at the sky like he now had a vengeful grudge against it.

You kneeled down next to him to be at eye-level. “Do you have your phone with you? Or any money?” The man wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “I’ve never owned a phone.” He looked back over to you, the rain dripping down his face washing his tears away. “And what would I need money for?”

You blinked, dumbfounded in its rawest form. You just stared at him again with a complete loss for words at his question. You looked him up and down, taking in every neon detail on his skater outfit. You probably looked like you were seeing an alien for the first time. “…Do you need me to call somebody for you?”

He vaguely chuckled with a small smile as he looked at you like you were the weird one. “I don't think they'd hear you from here.” Again, your jaw went slack at your loss for words; intense confusion baffling you. “What?”

You glanced around, trying to find some sort of camera crew. Your eyes returned to the blond man who cradled his knees to his chest and reached up to touch his wet hair. He was pouting and wearing the saddest puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen on a grown man. You needed to help this poor, troubled guy.

“What’s your name?” He took his hand out of his hair and released his knees, letting his legs fall straight as he looked at his neon strain roller blades. “Ken.” “No, like, what’s your full name?” You added. He tore his eyes off his feet to look back at you. “Kenneth or And Ken.”

You forced an awkward laugh and smile as you tried to hide how you were beginning to lose your patience. “No, what’s your last name?” Ken gave you another weird look. “How many names do you people have?”

Your frown began to deepen as your annoyance began to grow visible in your features. “…So it’s just Ken?” You asked, a slight snap to your voice. “Well it’s usually Barbie and Ken.” Ken explained with a pep to his own voice. Your brows crinkled, “You keep mentioning Barbie. Like the doll? Are you named after Barbie’s boyfriend Ken or something?”

Ken shook his head with a toothy smile. “No, I am Ken.”

‘This guy must have escaped from the ward.’ You mentally noted. “Where exactly are you from, Ken?” You asked, hoping to get a solid enough answer to help you navigate where he needs to get to.

“Barbieland.” Ken answered without hesitation, leaving you once again baffled. A loud thunderclap snapped you back into your senses as the rain began to pick up. You looked over your shoulder at (R/n) who pointed at her phone, trying to tell you the uber was about to pull up. You looked back to Ken who returned to sadly staring at his rollerblades and clutching his sopping wet hair.

You pursed your lips together, deep in debating thought, until you let out a groaning sigh. You rose to your feet and draped your jacket over Ken’s head and shoulders. He looked up at you with surprise and opened his mouth to say something but you strictly cut him off. “Stay right here, I’ll be right back.” You instructed him before rushing over to your dry friend.

“Okay, so Boris will be picking us up in a gray Toyota and I’ll just request what you owe me on Paypal-” “I think we should take him with us.” You cut (R/n) off as she watched the tracking map on Uber, her eyes snapping up towards you. She glanced over at Ken getting pretty comfortable in your jacket on the sidewalk curb before looking back at you with an eyebrow raise.

“(Y/n), what?” Now she was the baffled one looking at an alien over how out-of-character your request was. However, a smirk stretched across her lips. “Usually I’m the one wanting to bring home strange men at night.” You rolled your eyes and gave her a glare. “It’s not like that.” You glimpsed over your shoulder at Ken.

“That guy is the farthest thing from my type as you can get.”

You turned back to (R/n). “And you know I would never do that to Rob.”

(R/n) visibly cringed and shut her eyes, holding her hand up to stop you. “Ew, I’ve told you before I don’t like to hear that guys name on girls night.” You slapped her hand out of your face. “We’re not gonna have this argument again right now.” You grumbled, knowing how passionate (R/n) was about verbalizing her distaste for your boyfriend Rob. She shook her head. “We’re not because you didn’t say his name.”

You sighed, dismissing that whole rift in the conversation. “I just can’t leave him like this. He’s lost and confused and will get sick in this rain.” You explained to your roommate who didn’t seem to even mind. “As long as I don’t have to give up my room or share my morning waffles and we lock our bedrooms. And if he ends up being a thief or murderer or rap-” You cut her off.

“He’s not staying the night. I just wanna get him out of the rain and send him back to whatever mental institution he came from. He is not staying the night.” You stated with a stern expression. He’d be out of your apartment quicker than he got there. It’s not that you didn’t have room for a guest, other than prioritizing you and your friends safety, you just didn’t want to take care of this crazy man any more than you had to.

After (R/n) told you you’d be taking the heavier load on the overall cost, you hurried back over to Ken who was still wrapped up comfortably in your jacket. You planted your hand softly on his shoulder, grabbing his attention rather quickly. “Come on, Ken. You can get dry at my place and we’ll try and get you home.”

Ken’s face lit up like a Christmas tree and tried to stumble up to his feet due to his rollerblades before you grabbed his muscular arm to help him up safely. You pushed away the observation of how tall he actually was when he stood up to focus more on wheeling him over to the Uber (R/n) was waving you over to.

~

Ken skated circles around you and (R/n) as you walked down the hallway of your apartment building as he talked your ear off. “-and then we had to ride a snowmobile through the snow, which was very cold and not good for my hair. And then that’s when we rollerbladed into Venice Beach. Barbie did not like your world by the way, like within the first second we got there her mood instantly bummed out. And then-”

As soon as you got him seated in the car, he instantly began telling you how he got to that sidewalk curb that somehow involved his whole life story. You tuned him out about halfway through, you just couldn’t comprehend what he was telling you; Barbieland, Barbie, disco parties, Kens, Barbies, beaching, Mattel, a portal, Barbie’s flat feet, horses.

It was crazy to you. His story, his words, his personality, his clothes, quite literally everything about him. You nearly began to regret picking up just another LA nutjob on the street.

“-and now I’m here with you tired looking ladies in this kinda ugly, gloomy building. They should paint these walls a brighter color. Like pink! Or blue!” Ken joyfully said with his wide smile never faltering as he continued to skate down the halls. His upbeat energy was beginning to sicken you.

He started to skate backwards to continue talking into your annoyed face. “But don’t worry, I'm positive that Barbie is already out of jail and looking for me. No doubt by morning she'll come and pick me up and we’ll go home and the two of us will finally kiss under the stars.”

A snigger finally cracked out of you. “Right.” From the snippets of his story you paid attention to, it didn’t sound like this Barbie girl he kept talking about was all that interested in him. You wanted to press on about that but knew you’d just be met with blind stupidity.

(R/n) seemed to be having the opposite reactions and opinions from you as all she did was humor his story and laugh at his jokes. What was entertaining for her was agitating for you. “Well all I can do for you is let you in for a minute so you can dry off.” You asserted as you neared your apartment door.

“Thank you!” Ken chirped out, still clinging to your jacket that was still wrapped around him. “So if she’s (R/n), what’s your name? You never gave me it.” You told him your name and he repeated it out loud, testing it in different voice tones which annoyed you even more. ‘I just need to last another hour or two and then he’s out of my life and out of my sight’ you kept telling yourself to keep your composure.

You finally reached your front door and began to fish out your keys from your purse. You rustled through your stuff and held back your exhausted groan, digging through to find them. Ken’s vibrant neon color palette still blinded your peripheral vision. You fleetingly glanced over to him, “What is it with this outfit of yours anyways?”

Ken looked down at his clothes with a confident smile and placed his hands on his hips. “You like it?” Your brows furrowed together. “No, it's just… I thought you said you didn’t have any money.” “I don’t. Clothes just come to me.” Ken said simply as you finally found your keys.

“Like people give you clothes or you design them?” (R/n) questioned. “No, clothes literally just come to me.” Ken stated with that bright grin still intact with his lips.

You stared at him with that ‘are you serious’ expression. “Why don't we see about getting you a car.” You quickly said before you unlocked your front door.

~

(R/n) approached you in a fit of giggles while you sat at your dining room table scanning over a map for places to drop Ken off. She grasped onto your tense shoulders as she tried to regain a steady breath after her stomach-hurting laughter from something Ken had previously told her.

“C’mon, (Y/n). Can’t he sleep here tonight?” She asked you with a pleading smile. You didn’t spare her a glance and shook your head like a strict mother, your eyes still remaining on the map. “No way.”

(R/n) sighed in disappointment and was about to go back over to the couch where Ken was sitting all wrapped up in towels until she caught the sight of him leaning all the way back into the couch. His eyes blissfully closed and his mouth open enough for a vague snore.

“Um, (Y/n). He looks really tired.” She whispered down to you. Your eyes shot up to see the couch from where you were sitting to witness Ken already fast asleep. “What? Oh, no. That's not acceptable.” You stood up, the intention of physically hurling him off your couch flaring your imagination.

“Are you really gonna make him go?” (R/n) asked sadly with a pout. You turned to her with a glare. Of course you had to be the only sensible one, taking on responsibility. Sometimes you felt like the only adult in a world full of children, the only one with a stable head on their shoulders. “Just go to bed. I’ll handle this.” You asserted.

(R/n) delicately grabbed your arm before you could march over to him. “He’s so funny though, and he seems pretty harmless.” You sighed and turned to her with a softer tone in your expression and eyes. “(R/n), he is a seriously confused and troubled man who's fallen into our laps. All I want to do is get him home.” You explained as plainly as you could.

“So he’s not gonna stay?” (R/n) asked again but put on a brighter smile to try to convince you. “No.” You harshly deadpanned. “Now go to bed.” She huffed but turned on her heels anyway in pursuit of her room.

Once you heard the closing of her door, you made your way over to the snoozing psychopath. With your hands on your hips, you glared down at him as if trying to telepathically make him wake up. You reached down to his arm, about to violently shake him awake, but your fingers halted and hovered over his toned bicep.

You glanced up to his face as you were frozen, mindlessly taking the time to get a proper look at his face for the first time. You nearly couldn’t mentally deny that when he wasn’t rabidly sobbing or babbling his mouth off, he was actually very beautiful. The most beautiful guy you’ve ever actually seen, almost like he was fake. He was too physically perfect.

You snapped yourself out of your admiring daze, almost not believing you got distracted with physical attraction. You deepened your frown and finally pushed your hand against his arm, a weak attempt to wake Mr Sleeping Beauty. You pushed one more time to find he was still fast asleep. You gruffly sighed and pulled out your phone, clicking into the Uber app.

You were just going to send him to the nearest police station, he’ll be the cops’ problem now and Ken can tell them all about his Barbie life. However, before you could hit the final button to get the car your eyes glanced up to Ken once more. Except this time you couldn’t look away as he subconsciously snuggled in the towels wrapped around him.

‘Just push the damn button and get him out of here’ is what you kept yelling at yourself. So why couldn’t you do it? Of course right when it came down to it, you felt yourself going soft for this lunatic… with very blue eyes and an innocent kind of sweet smile. Despite his prettiness and despite his aggravating immaturity, you still felt this gravitational pull towards this strange man.

You sighed and turned off your phone, ruthlessly cursing yourself at your failure to get rid of him. You just couldn’t bring yourself to kick him out, something you knew you were going to regret when he woke up and began talking non-stop again. Still, you found yourself gently laying him properly down across the couch on the pillow and replacing the damp towels with a blanket.

You denied your own small smile at his sleeping form as you left for your bedroom. You hadn’t thought about Barbie dolls in a very long time, but all of his Barbie talk made you sit in your bed in silence for a few minutes. You wished you still had your Barbie dolls with you instead of them sitting in a box in your parents basement. You just wanted to at least look at your favorite childhood toy.

Not your Ken doll though.

You buried him three feet underground in your backyard when playing funeral with your Barbie dolls and forgot he was still down there.

[twistedblunderhand]

How often do the characters leave NRC?

Ik the game is focused on the school, but I feel like at least some of them would have a life outside of school

HEARTSLABYUL

Duce- it was mentioned he left to the beach to let things out before, so obviously he leaves the campus sometimes. Since he’s trying to be an honor student I can’t imagine he’d go out too much for fun, but he will to clear his head or with his friends

Ace- he’d get way to pent up if he was in the school all the time. He definitely goes out occasionally and invites the first years

Cater- All. The. Time. Both as a way to distract himself and also to keep up with the outside world.

Trey- occasionally, but mainly to get ingredients or things to decorate for unbirthday parties. And once a month he gets bulk dental supplies

Riddle- other than mandatory vaccinations, probably not. Especially early game. As he grows he might go out with Trey and Cater from time to time. But never on his own

SAVANACLAW

Jack- he leaves now and then, but not too often. During the winters he goes home for some weekends to spend time with his family and snowboard at his favorite places

Ruggie- iirc it’s mentioned he has multiple jobs. If he leaves more often than not it’s to work or find work. That and to go to a local donut shop

Leona-he can canonically drive, and also is 20. He’s not spending all his time at NRC. He’s got friends outside he meets with once or twice a week and drives Ruggie to his jobs if he can’t get the twst version of an Uber

OCTAVINELLE

Jade- he’s apart of the mountain appreciation club, so he probably goes hiking at least three times a week. He might go into a nearby town if Azul asks him to, but I can’t imagine he leaves too often

Floyd- probably joins Jade on some of his hikes and also goes into town when Azul asks. He also travels to the beach/ocean whenever he’s feeling homesick

Azul- he rarely leaves school, and if he does it’s to check up on business opportunities

SCARABIA

kalim- all the time. He takes people out, he explores the areas close by, he single handedly pays the bills for the local party barn with all of the supplies he gets. Out of anyone in the music club I think he tries to get a bunch of gigs for them, but he rarely follows through

Jamil- usually if he’s out it’s to drag kalim back to school. He’s just too busy that he doesn’t really have time for himself, especially early game. Eventually I like to think he gets out of working for kalim, and so he has a lot more time on his hands he’s not used to having. Then, he’d probably go out sometimes to go to coffee shops alone and finds a dance studio where he can destress

POMEFIORE

Epel- under Vil’s eye, probably not. Might be forced to go to ulta once or twice or on little “field trips” to learn. Mainly performances and shows

Rook- probably leaves to hunt once in a while or to go to performances or follow a target.

Vil- as mentioned before, he takes Epel on little trips to educate him, but also to study/learn from other performances himself. Also, if he has a roll obviously he’ll go to do that too

IGNIHYDE

Ortho- usually follows his brother so doesn’t stray far from campus

Idia- dude he doesn’t leave his room. No way he leaves campus on his own free will

DIASOMNIA

Silver- I don’t think he’d stray too too far from malleus so I don’t see him leaving campus much

Sebek- I feel like he wouldn’t leave campus too much to stay near Malleus or Lilia

Lilia- he goes out every week at least once. He has friends outside of school and loves to learn about the area/culture outside and near school

Malleus- mainly stays on campus because of his social awkwardness/anxiety. If he finds there’s an abandoned place outside of school he’ll probably venture there once in a while

STAFF

Just as a general thing, they all probably go out and meet up and talk about life once every two months

Crowley- asshole gets out every night instead of working. He skips work and will be out during his office hours. Like he should have a life outside of work, but he doesn’t do shit at his job

Crewel- he volunteers at the dog shelter and doesn’t live on campus.

Trein- he has a three kids, so yeah. After school he leaves to go home and probably has family dinners every Friday night at local restaurants

Sam- for sure. He has lots of clients outside of the school store and needs to get his stock from somewhere, but also he has tons of friends and doesn’t live at the school

[makedatmoneymayne]

✨✨Welcome (Backity Back) to The Boys: Pt.3✨✨

Antony Starr x Black Reader(Khadijah) x a wee bit of Chace Crawford

[Side note: I don't proofread until wayy later and i'm also trying new things each chapter. So if there is any confusion JUST BEAR WITH ME. Hope you still enjoy though🙂]

~This one's a bit longer~

Warnings: SMUT, fluff, exhibitionism, drinking and Chace😃

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Khadijah's POV❤️

After that embarrassing ass day, Khadijah went out and got some drinks with the girls. Ughh singing horribly and just clumsy as fuck in front of him too whyyyy.

"Them shots need to hurry the fuck up neow." she blurt out impatiently tapping her foot.

"The fuck you so up tight for? We just found some seats in here, relax." Julaya says slightly impatient too but for something, more like someone, totally different.

"Heh what, Jessie not textin back quick enough?" Kapoia laughs grabbing one of the shots at just arrived.

Before anyone could grab anymore or say anything, she downed 3 of them back to back leaving 7 more left. Feeling the liquor burn away every last ounce of embarrassment that she had left for the night.

"Daaaayyyuuuuummm!!!" They say in unison.

Khadijah looked over already feeling it, "I'm cool, what was you gonna say Julaya?"

"Baby we ain't ask if you were cool we know you still trippin out over that embarrassing shit you did earlier" Kapoia shakes her head. "Just slow the fuck down alright we gotta flight in the morning.

Oh shit. She had totally forgot Eric asked her to cater again but for the people at comic con. Of course her ass said yes just to go get drunk right after the question was asked.

"Alright alright I'll slow down" raising her eyebrows at them.

They breathe a sigh of relief only to be cut off by Khadijah calling for more shots. "Alright go on Julaya." she gave her, her full attention.

"We aint even fini- you know what, nevermind yeah he isn't texting back. I mean okay they might have to wake up early tomorrow but it only takes two secs to text at least "Hey" you know?" her words were slurred throughout her sentence due to her taking more shots.

"I'm so sorry Julaya, I wanna give you advice but uhhm girl. These drinks kicking my ass." Kapoia mumbles into her hands as she rubbed her face.

"It will be okay girl he looked like he was damn near in love with you when yall was joggin to the car." Khadijah says now completely done after MANYYY rounds of drinks.

"Let's go the fuck homeeeee, I can't do no moeee." Kapoia whines trying to straighten up, eyeing this brown skinned baddie with a long curly afro before putting her head back down.

Khadijah and Julaya collectively cackle at her. "You a mess when you drunk K, had that girl looking worried." Julaya said still laughing.

"Yeah yeah hush and let's go home." she damn already near at the door. We followed her out sorta stumbling to call an uber.

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

Khadijah tossed and turned in her bed after having a nice long shower. He was on her mind so much it interrupted her sleep. Right on cue she got a simple message just saying hi, and it's from ANTONYYYY. She couldn't help herself just getting that message alone, imagining his face, she had to get some relief.

Rubbing her soaked bud, she let out the most nastiest moan. Khadijah texted him back letting him know she was already thinking about him. She had to shut the fuck up though real shit, Julaya and Kapoia ass probably asleep. A naughty thought came to mind, she grabbed one of her four pillows, putting it near her feet.

Propping up her phone on the pillow, showing her now naked body glistening from the light next to her. Hitting the timer, she got into position, posing, opening her legs as wide as possible.

Once the pic was taken Khadijah wasted no time sending it to him showing him how much she was thinking about him even slipping the word "daddy" in there because she knew he'd go wild from that alone. He took fucking forever to answer. For some reason, she felt like she was in the wrong and began to ask if he liked it kind of apologizing just in case he didn't. Before she could finish her third message, she saw a blurred video.

Opening it Khadijah gasped, pussy immediately throbbing and wet. This nigga is moaning her name stroking that long thick pipe. She was deadass hooked

She immediately got to texting him if they could meet up tonight she NEEDED that. He sadly declined but said they'd meet again soon after his interviews. Going back to the video, she's actually salivating for this man. Khadijah got up on her knees at a slight angle to ride her own fingers, she used two of her fingers to act as if it was his dick she was riding, his video on rewind. She propped her phone back up right back up behind her, feeling herself about to cum.

Riding her fingers at a fast tempo, gripping the headboard with her other hand, making sure her ass shook in the frame for him to see. She started to cum but this time around, it felt like more, almost like she was gonna- before she could register what the fuck was going on, her body jolted forward and a stream shot out of her hitting her camera so hard it paused the recording.

"Oh shit no no no my phoneee." Khadijah panicked a little still sending him the video with a message saying she'd be waiting for him. Sitting her phone on the nightstand, she headed to the shower, finding it funny he has to catch a flight too tomorrow. Paying it no mind she hopped in the shower, after, going straight bed.

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

Khadijah was late. She's usually never late but this morning she was pretty fucking late and all because she was being fucking horny. She hoped damn near prayed Antony remembered nothing. Last night wasn't particularly her. Sober Khadijah would've just had a simple convo. Now this 46 year old nigga know how her pussy looked. THEY BARELY EVEN SPOKE.

"WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG!" "YOU AINT GOT NO NIGGAS SO WHAT HAPPENED!" Kapoia started and Julaya finished.

Khadijah's head was hurting like hell from the hangover and the thought of what she did with him. Now this?! She couldn't be asked, walking past them going straight to cooking. "Shhh im here now lets get going I got all our bags in the car ready."

After setting up the shop, Khadijah and the girls leave the other workers to take their shift for 2 weeks.

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

When they finally land it's night time already. Yawning to herself, Khadijah tells the girls, "It's hella pretty yall trust i get it, but it's cold and we need to get to the hotel Eric bought for us. He for-real got us our own rooms too."

"Okayyy Big Bank Erik not the little one!!" Julaya yells getting her stuff for the taxi ride to the hotel.

"Ouuu dis noiiiiceeee." Kapoia says astonished taking picture of the hotel exterior.

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

The sun's still setting and Khadijah NEEDED a picture of it from this beautiful view Eric gave her in her room. Right after she took the picture of it, her phone starts ringing for a FaceTime call, it the girls group chat.

"He hooked us the fuck up yall ion know this window lookin real fuck-on-able you know." Julaya sighs into the phone. It was a ceiling to floor window giving an amazing view in each of their rooms.

"Hell yea I could get one of these fine New York ladies to come see bout me on this window." Kapoia adds on.

"How the fuck yall gone fuck on the window?! Don't yall gotta scissor nd shit?" Julaya pauses after saying that "THE STRAAAAAPPP OHHHHHH GO AHEAD DEN K!!"

"Yall mfs are something elsee, ima go to bed love yalll." Khadijah said before hanging up, melting into her covers getting Antony out her mind for tonight.

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

Khadijah and the girls woke up the next morning, freshening up and throwing on their outfits for the day. Khadijah chose a two-toned brown floral skirt with a grey crop and a sweater. She also threw on a few accessories making her fit pop. Julaya wore a khaki skirt with a Supernatural shirt tied to crop and some sandals for comfort with earrings. Kapoia wore a compression short sleeve shirt with baggy black pants and combat boots with all the accessories included.

Once done getting dressed, they called an uber to the convention at 8am. When they got out the car, they saw all these people already standing in-front of the convention waiting for it to start.

"That's actually fuckin crazy." Khadijah said before they all walked into the back which led to the kitchen. They all turned on their music in their one airpod, so they can still hear and communicate with each other.

Music blasting in their ears, they got to baking wasting no time. Pies, Cookies, Croissants, Donuts, anything they could think of baking they baked it.

It was around 11:30am when they got done baking. Khadijah finished decorating each of the platters hoping the people coming to the convention would love it, they all still wondered who were the tv shows coming.

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

12:30pm hit, everyone was in there packed to the brim. Five mins later, It was go time. All the girls plastered a smile on their faces serving all the people in the conference area where the tv show in question is being interviewed. Time passed of the girls serving, this guy goes up to the podium fucking up a jelly filled donut.

"Where the hell did that donut come from" Tomer said determined to get one.

Khadijah paid it absolutely no mind she thought maybe it was a random tv show.

"Oh shit! I forgot to mention to you all and my cast. I got my good friend Khadijah to come on back to cater these yummy desserts again." Eric said with excitement.

Khadijah's head slowly turned to them hoping he wasn't there somehow someway. Looking down the line of stars she was relieved.

"Yeah come on up here darling I'd love to admire your pie again." Antony said sensually and no-one noticed.

Her eyes went straight to his wondering how in the hell are they both here together. While she was trying to see if he was there, they were already thinking about having her come to them to give them the pastries. She glanced at the girls before walking up to the cast.

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

Antony's Lil POV ting

I woke up energized surprisingly. This hotel is fucking beautiful and what'd make it more beautiful is if she was here, Khadijah. Her body was so beautiful over the phone but it just wasn't enough for me I need her here in New York with me. If she was here I'd fuck her on an instant only if she wants you know.

I got to the convention and started answering some good and some really fucking odd questions. Some weird looking man got up to the podium eating a donut like it was his last meal jelly everywhere. Before he asked the question I thought about her again, wondering if she made them, then i'd understand why he's eating it with no common sense.

"Where the hell did that donut come from" Tomer said what we were all thinking. We were all hungry for some reason it's funny.

"Oh shit! I forgot to mention to you all and my cast. I got my good friend Khadijah to come on back to cater these yummy desserts again." Eric said with excitement not noticing my face going into a sinister smile.

I see her, not too well due to the lights flashing at us but I could tell she looked beautiful. She hasn't noticed me yet, that's because i'm all the way on the end sort of.

"We need you up her Khadijah show off them pastries girl." Erin said already clapping

"Yeah come on up here darling I'd love to admire your pie again." I try to out on the best sexy voice I could muster up.

She saw me and looked at me with surpriseand confusion. I gave her a smirk and a head tilt telling her to bring her sexy ass up here. She came up on the side where'd i'd be the last one getting a pastry.

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

Khadijah was up on the stage and was given a great big applauds from the crowd, some random dude yelling "THIS IS FUCKING DELICIOUS." She was damn near sweating from the anxiety.

"Alright you fuckers relax she's a nervous girl." Antony noticed it and told the crowd off after a while.

Chace gave him a knowing look with a goofy smirk. He whispered to Antony who was next to him "She's yours now?"

Antony shrugged and said "Hopefully soon enough."

Khadijah finally got to Antony, somehow he made an excuse to make her feed him the food everyone except Chace believed.

"Fuck me Khadijah" Antony said so low everyone thought he said feed me.

But she. heard. it. all. Her shaky hand holding a cream filled donut was inching to his mouth. He's so in her area, he purposely rubbed his knee constantly on her leg. Nobody is noticing this sexual tension but you two. Her panties were so soaked she had to close her thighs as he bit into the donut. It got all over his mouth. He licked it up still making eye contact. It felt like everything was in slow mo she couldn't take it.

"Thank you sexy" Antony said meaning every word until the last. Nobody thought anything of his words again due to his friendly personality.

Once she got off the stage, Khadijah ran discreetly to her girls who witnessed the whole thing.

"He wanna be in yo stomach real bad baby it's actually crazy." Julaya said all giddy and exciteted with her.

"Right i've never seen a man tell someone to fuck them on stage. He kinda smooth ian gone lie nah." Kapoia said putting her hands up medium height.

They all continued on talking and laughing in the other room so no-one would hear. People started flowing out making the halls really hard to get through. Khadijah felt her phone vibrate and so did Julaya and Kapoia's.

"Okay I love yall I gotta go J textin me nonstop." Julaya said scurrying off.

"Go get some dick baby just be straight up. I right witchya except i'm gettin pussy." Kapoia said with a nasty laugh. No one knew she was fucking with Erin.

Khadijah was left alone smiling to herself thinking her friends were a mess. She saw the message Antony sent and her heart started beating FAST. "☺️" Was all he sent. She was super fucking confused what that was supposed to mean.

"All alone?" Khadijah knew that voice from anywhere. She turned to see Antony giving her his signature sexy smile again.

She pulled him to a secluded hallway so they can talk and no one would see.

"You want me all to yourself huh?" She could stop her smile from showing. "Your smile is just so beautiful Khadijah." He started stroking her cheek.

She grabbed the hand that's on her cheek just to hold it.

"Im sorry Antony I dont wanna seem like I was going too far i ju-" Khadijah tried to rush out before being interrupted by him kissing her.

The kiss got serious when she wrapped her arms around his neck. He added tongue, reaching behind taking her going up as an opportunity to feel the weight of her fat juicy ass.

In the quiet dark separated hall they continued making out only taking a break to breathe. Beside the commotion from the on going convention all they can hear is their wet tongues battling each others. Antony won that battle moving his hands from her ass to lift her skirt to feel her moist panty covered mound.

"All that for me baby?" Antony asked as they stop their kiss with one last loud smack.

Their heavy breaths still going, Khadijah a little more heightened due to Antony now rubbing her panty covered pussy. Khadijah was thrusting her hips to Antony's rubbing, reaching down to unbutton his jeans.

She brought out his semi hard dick stroking it to life. He was moaning like crazy with her, nobody can hear them really anyway right?

Antony got down on one knee putting both hands on her ass, pulling her forward to eat her out. He gave her pussy one long lick sticking the tip of this tongue in before taking it out slurping her clit up. He did that nonstop growling into her pussy.

Khadijah gripped his head, riding his tongue giving his hair a tight grip. Mid moan she looked up at Chace who was watching them with wanting eyes. She gave him an air kiss before going back to moaning from the head she was receiving from Antony. She blinked and Chace was gone.

Antony wasn't paying attention, Chace was looking everywhere for Antony and well he found him alright. Once he heard moaning from Khadijah he had to stop and stare back her biting his lip wishing he was behind her fucking her while Antony ate you out. He soon left hot and slightly bothered giving an actual great excuse for them to have a bit more privacy time without letting anyone know you two were together.

On one side was a lovely wholesome convention, on the other side, Antony's fingers were now in her panties fucking her so good.

"Mm I've been waiting for this shit, had me on the plane cumming so hard to your videos again." Antony moaned feeling her hand stroking his tip, dick rock hard.

She couldn't speak she was clouding her mind. "oh.. ohhhh fuckk mmm." Was all she could get out. Antony took out his fingers and she whined to the loss of her orgasm coming.

"I need to be in you NOW." Antony growled gripping her by the neck with one hand the other opening the closet door next her both.

He took herinside the room, it was like a medium sized conference room for staff.

(Like this but without the windows)

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

It was cute but Khadijah couldn't care about that right now. She was currently on her knees getting dick deep in her throat while a whole convention was going on.

"Mm fuck i'm loving that wet mouth." Antony let out this sexy ass moan. When she looked up at him his face was pure pleaser. He lifted his shirt and she saw his smooth sexy stomach. Khadijah had to feel his body, she put up both her hands to feel but before she knew it Antony took control grabbing her hands and pinning them on the wall so he could fuck her mouth.

"I'll tell you when you can touch me slut, keep giving me that mouth." He started a pace of fucking her mouth letting her drool all over her shirt. Her pussy even wetter than before from being called a slut.

Antony retracted his hips and picked you up giving you another extra sloppy tongue filled kiss. He snatched her sweater off and pulled her shirt down making it stretch around her waist "saving it for later" in his own words.

"These tits so fucking beautiful Khadijah." He salivated looking at the pierced nipples, hard and ready to be sucked.

He latched his mouth onto one while the rubbed, rolling his eyes back from the metallic taste.

"Ouhhhhhhh! daddy that mouth is so good." Khadijah couldn't keep quiet anymore letting out a series of "oh fuck! and daddy!"'s. When she got a little too loud he had to cover her mouth.

"You really want us to get caught slut? Wanna let everyone know who's treating you real good." Antony said not expecting her to nod her head.

Antony slowly let go of Khadijah's mouth nodding with her "Okay." Antony with his pants still down enough for his cock to be out, looked around the room. He opened the door wide for anyone to walk past.

The convention was almost over anyways right? Again you were fucking wrong, there was people talking everywhere right next to the having a great time.

(The hallway in question)

Anyone could go to that window right there and see the all american "Homelander's" dick standing high.

"Get your ass over here and hold on that window now." He pointed to the window. Khadijah was nervous as hell but willing. Antony already asked about this window, turns out it's Opaque glass. No one could see them fuck on it even if they got close up to it, to them it's dark. But Khadijah didn't know that and her anxiety can back better than ever. He had to tell her so she could be comfortable.

"Trust me baby they can't see us. But hearing on the other hand, you might want to keep it down before randoms start looking."

"Okay baby I trust you, I just really need you to fuck me until I can't speak straight" She gave him an innocent smile, all innocence gone.

"Oh you are trouble Ms. Wright." He gave her one last kiss licking her top lip, turning her around. She immediately bent over, letting him guide her hands to the window. Letting him give her ass a few smacks to watch it bounce. He pulled her skirt to her ankles putting his hand on her back to give her an arch.

"We have to be quick baby okay ?" Antony said with a sigh slowly sliding his thick long dick into her pussy so it wouldn't cause her pain.

"Daddy fuck me I don't care if it hurts I want itt!" She felt his hand go over her mouth again when a few people looked over at the window you guys were in.

"What did I just say? You like being a hard headed little slut huh? Nah fuck that MY hard headed slut." Antony's momentum sped up more and more until all that was heard in that hallway was heavy breaths, the sound of her ass clapping on his waist and the constant squelch of her creamy pussy. He lifted her up when all he got back from her was a "ohhh fuck" putting his mouth right by her ear.

Khadijah felt him on her back and right by her ear but she couldn't get her words out with how good he's pounding her pussy in also his hand was on her mouth how the fuck was she for real supposed to speak.

"Answer me or I'll stop and walk away." He slows down his hips, removing his hands, letting his New Zealand accent come out stronger while he's giving you demands.

"Yessss fuck please keep going I'm so close don't stop."

"I'll never stop when i'm deep in this wet shit." He couldn't contain himself, he wasn't actually going to stop he just needed her to pay the fuck attention.

Antony was fucking her so hard her wet cheek was planted on the window hard nipples bouncing on the hard glass before he gripped one pinching it. She couldn't do it anymore her orgasm was coming so strong she could even warn Antony, she just hoped he could tell by her knees shaking, damn near collapsing.

He did notice, removing his hand from her titty to her clit other hand on her stomach holding her in place. He circled her clit so fast feeling her pussy clench so hard it pushed him out and all he heard and probably others outside that window, "Ugh! Daddy! I'm Squirting!!" It was like an electric water gun shooting straight out on his shoes and lower part of her pants and all over her skirt. He went back in thrusting a few more times before turning he around and pushing her slightly onto her knees.

Khadijah was FUCKED from the waist down no pun intended. When he asked her to get on her knees though she already knew what was up and all of a sudden her knees were ready steady when she got down. She opened her mouth sticking her tongue out smacking his hand out the way to stroke his sloppy dick with both her hands.

Antony's brain stopped working while he tilted his head back letting out the loudest moan Khadijah has ever heard a man do. His cum flew out all over her face, in her mouth, and on her tits. He had never came this much until now and it felt like heaven. after he stopped cumming he got down on one knee to her level to give her one last kiss not caring about the mess.

"I have to go baby, be ready at 9pm tonight I wanna to take you out."

Khadijah nodded her head "Okay daddy I'll be ready." Her brain was still in sub mode as he walked away fixing himself before walking out like nothing happened. She turned around looking out the glass seeing no one even questioned a thing about where he was as he walked through the crowd. Khadijah left a message in the girls GC saying "Y'all he fucked me up the New Zealand way."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~Thank yall fuh reading this is my first REAL attempt at writing smut so I hope yall enjoyed that a bit

~~I had to add Chace somewhere that man too fine~~

[rainbowdaisy13]

Someone explain to me why one of the most famous people in the world would want to constantly be seen in random public spaces with her currently long distance boyfriend in the short windows of time she has in between shows/traveling/eating and sleeping??

Famous people in real relationships are simply not seen unless they want to be. There are an endless amount of luxury restaurants/clubs/bars/hotels/private homes that cater to the Uber rich with 100% discretion

CRITICAL THINKING FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

[heartbreakgrill]

Delicate: Vessel (Sleep Token); Part 8; "My reputation's never been worse."

“This is so fucking stupid.”

I shoved my hands into my hoodie pocket, eyes rolling at the sight of the boys, noise makers between their lips, some jank ass sign unraveling in the wind.

“Your mom’s fucking stupid,” Max fired back with his usual goofy smile, words muffled from the noise maker in his mouth. His knocked his fist against my elbow gently as he passed by, moving to help Cy hold up the poster board.

They’d bought it at a random Walgreens, after having forced the Uber driver to pull over, abruptly. Then, with bumpy hands and terrible penmanship, they wrote out some sarcastic for Sam about returning home from prison.

“Don’t be a sour puss, dude,” Adam replied. His brows were furrowed, chin dipping side to side in disagreement to my negative statement.

I looked to him, watching as he pulled a cone shaped hat down onto his hair, the rubber band snug against his chin. The meer humor of the too-small hat on his head made his words lose any meaning. I wanted to laugh, but instead I shot back, my brows skeptically, sarcasm quick as air, “Who? Me? No, never!”

Adam scoffed a laugh. His hat was finally adjusted now, hands falling to his sides exasperatedly. “Seriously. Just try to be nice, for once. Sam said Daisy’s, like, so sweet.” My skepticism only darkened my gaze, sarcasm sinking into genuine wonder, “So, what, we’re gonna be dancing around some child all summer?”

It was a valid question. When Sam asked us about Daisy joining the tour for the summer, everyone else just jumped on board. I, however, took a little convincing. What business did she even have here, 5,000 miles from home? It’s not like she had any professional connections to touch on, nor was London that interesting. Or, maybe I was just being a pessimist, again…

To say the least, I had trust issues. Or, in my therapist’s more light turn of phrase, I was cautious, careful to new people because I had a lot on the line with my career and had been through numerous situations with others that ended up with me, well…in therapy.

Max battled with the cardboard sign as the wind seemed to be winning the war. He struggled to get the words out as he scuffled to straighten its edges, which seemed to take more work than it needed to, “She’s literally only 5 years younger than you.”

“So, a child?”

“So, a 23 year old, grown woman. She’s really smart, Sam said. I’m sure you can have some fun conversations about the elements and shit.”

“Sam’s biased,” I murmured, focused now on the cigarette between my pointer and middle fingers. I dallied with lighting it, displaced energy in the act. It was early. I was tired.

“Sam’s one of your best mates,” Cy shot me a look. “Listen, just give her a chance. Stop moping just because you think some woman’s gonna take away from our guy time this summer.”

I straightened up, offense hitting my features like a stone wall, “When did I say that? I’m just worried we’re gonna have to cater to some child while we’re trying to literally do our jobs. She’s gonna be pursuing around like she’s in some Taylor Swift video while we’re going to be trying to earn our income. It’s just…weird.”

I’d never mention that fear to them- the fear I had of this trust. I think maybe if they all looked at me a little more closely, they’d see it. They’d see the fear in my eyes. But, I was really good at displacing my anxieties onto a separate, less pressing issue.

If I was ever terrified the sky was going to fall, then, suddenly, I was lashing out about the uncut grass in the front yard, randomly. Gotta love unhealthy coping mechanisms. Cy was still looking at me all judgmentally. I knew he wanted to lecture me further, but he simply reached over, patted my shoulder, and said, “Just…try not to be a dickhead, okay? Let the girl enjoy her summer.”

Max continued on, blabbering about something or the other. “I’m, like…Ollie, have you ever even seen a Taylor Swift video? I am pretty sure not a single fucking one takes place in Europe. They’re all super conceptual and abstract. Honestly, you might actually love some of ‘em. What’s that older one? With the trees and shit?”

“Out Of the Woods?” Adam was quick to fill in the blanks. I looked to him out of the corner of my vision, gaze narrowed. Of course he knew which one it was. He held his hands up, defensively, “What? My little cousin loves her.”

“Mhm,” I nodded, slow.

He trailed off, looking away, “And, maybe, you know, I do, too.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

Max latched onto Adam’s help, continuing his rant about Taylor Swift, of all things. “Fuck! Out of the Woods! It reminds me a lot of the Fall for Me video! There’s, ya know, water…lots of running…self-deprecation. Fuck, a Sleep Token/Taylor Swift collab would go so hard!”

“Shit, could you imagine some real drums on one of her songs?” Cy perked up at the thought, fingers thrumming against the corner of the sign that he’d now laid his clutches on. “Sick!”

“Oh, God,” I rubbed my forehead, itching more and more to finally light up my cigarette, puff out a few smokey deep breaths. “I can feel the glitter and sparkles starting to fucking suffocate me! Can we please talk about something else?”

“Whatever, Ollie,” Adam flicked his hand towards me dismissively. He went to change the subject when his phone dinged from his pocket. He pulled it out, in one fluid motion, and read whatever text he’d gotten. “Shit! They just got their bags! Quick! Hold up the sign!”

Max shuffled around, all energetic, trying to make everything look perfect. He quickly tried to put a party hat on my head. I had to shove his entire body into Adam to stop him from getting the string down over my chin.

“Fuck off!” I cursed, brushing out the torso of my hoodie. He giggled, annoyingly, knowing he’d successfully gotten on my nerves. Again.

Max turned his attention away from me and to the two people who had just walked out of the airport, suitcases rolling behind them, backpacks looped around their shoulders. I noticed Sam, first, his head dipped down into his phone, curly blonde hair mopped up atop his head. He was dressed, head to toe, in all black. It was a welcome site, the fifth member of our posse back in our home country, our original stomping grounds, even if he wasn’t from here.

I let a smile overtake my features, excitement bubbling in my cheeks. It was actually really good to see him.

I wouldn’t have even paid any attention to the girl standing beside him if she didn’t stick out so much, like a sore thumb. Her bright pink sweater, gray sweatpants, the purples and greens swirled around her suitcase. Every single thing touching her was just…so colorful. Even the expression on her face, wide grin, cheery eyes- though they were circled by tireless bags- it was all so glaring.

I narrowed my eyes skeptically.

As Sam fumbled about on his phone, she stepped forward, excitedly taking an extra noise maker, my left over party hat, from Max. She barely got the hat on before Sam was looking up, our small crowd erupting into joyous ruckus that caused him to nearly drop his phone.

I don’t know why, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. I watched her, carefully, as she went through the motions of greeting everyone. Adam was his shy, introverted self. Cy was charismatic, Max obnoxiously flirty.

And she was just…constant, through it all. Upbeat, grinning, encouraging to every single average word that my friends told her.

And then she was looking at me, offering her hand. My head shook slightly as if to unscramble my consciousness. I glanced between her hand, her own gaze, unsure of what to do or say. I had been too busy watching. I barely brought myself out of that entrapped stare before my name came fumbling out of my mouth.

“Oliver.”

She seemed a little put off, taken aback, after I blatantly ignored her outstretched hand. But, I didn’t want to shake it. I was afraid that, if I touched it, she might shock me, sting me, scorch me with that bleeding sunshine she seemed to have sticking to her skin.

Besides, I couldn’t trust her, right? Right.

I turned my head away, feeling somewhat ashamed for the way I brushed her off. There was a rejected twinkle in her eyes, one that I could not handle. Moving on from that interaction, or in an attempt to do so, I tilted my chin down, glazing my eyes to the concrete. I shrunk beneath the cover of my hood. I didn’t need to feel bad for anything. I didn’t even know her, nor did she know me.

As the others finished up with their exchange of greetings, the group itself began making its way back to the Uber, with Sam and Daisy now a part of the flow.

The car ride back was objectively short, though it felt longer than the time on Apple Maps said. I rode in the back with the guys, pressed up against the door due to the lack of space. My long knees jutted out awkwardly. The bone of my leg ached from knocking against the door with each bump in the road that the car hit.

I stared out of the window, hoping the painful time would pass quicker. The ugliness of London stared back at me. A small, curious part of me kept darting my eyes towards the front seat, where she sat. But I stilled my gaze on the city.

That was maybe part of the issue- I just didn't understand why Daisy was so interested in visiting this place anyways. It was boring, bland. I associated the cloudy gray skies and rainy summers with some of the worst times of my life. This city looked the way I felt for most of it, too. The people were shit, too. Rude, always in a rush, unforgiving and untrustworthy.

What adventure could one find in this wet, concrete maze of hell?

Bored, I moved my attention back to the interior of the car, still resisting that urge to look forward. Adam, Cy, Sam, and Max were a cacophony of lost conversation, catching up, rumbling laughter. I listened for a moment, intently awaiting her to throw in her two sense. She seemed like the type to talk somebody’s ear off. Perhaps I could read between her sentences, find out her motives, her intentions, find something to use against her, so I could easily hate her and put distance between us-

Oh.

She was sleeping.

Her body was slumped against the door, neck pillow twisted around to support her forehead from the glass of the window. She cradled her hands to her stomach, the blanket she had just up underneath her chest.

The curve of her face caught my eye the most, the simple stillness of the lines around her lips, the peaceful flutter that ruffled her lashes every so often. I wondered what she dreamt of- rainbows, sunshine, lollipops. I bet she was the type of person who would respond, "World peace," when asked what she would wish for if she had a genie.

God. I really was an asshole. Here was this stranger, this beautiful, seemingly kind stranger, trying to catch up on sleep after traveling nearly 20 hours…and here I was, creating an entire persona around the two facts I actually knew about her. Maybe I should give her a chance, like the guys said. Maybe I should let her in, even if it was barely past the surface, and try to be amicable.

Maybe she wouldn’t sell my name to the paparazzi. Maybe she wouldn’t leak photos of me online, or call news sites to gain traction on social media.

I nearly flinched as she shifted in her slumber, so lost in my thoughts that the disruption was a panic. Her lips parted, just so, as air deflated from her lungs. The hair that curled around her face ruffled from the gentle gust.

Though she looked like Sam, she really was beautiful. Sure, Sam was attractive, in his own way. But, uniquely, Daisy was…honestly, gorgeous, all doe-eyed, rose lips, freckled cheeks.

I kept staring at her, analyzing, accidentally memorizing.

As I felt myself sinking, into my seat, into myself, into this stare I had on her, I straightened up, shoved myself back in the door.

The poor girl wasn’t even awake.

And I was being far too open.

When we reached the hotel, everyone piled out of the Uber. I went to step out, myself, to begrudgingly helped with luggage. But after I cast a casual glance over my shoulder, I noticed Daisy was still asleep. As though she were his responsibility, I found Sam and went to vocalize the issue with him. But he was busy with their bags.

None of the others were really familiar enough with her to consider her.

No one but me, I guess, because I was reaching out my fingers, touching her shoulder, telling her, "We're here."

I swept myself away before she could wake up and look me in the eyes. - "Where's your sister?" Cy inquired, poking at his dish with the fork in his hold.

Sam shrugged as he continued shoveling french fries in his mouth. "Sleeping, I think. She was fucking exhausted. Could barely get herself to bed this morning.”

"Poor girl," Max pouted his bottom lip. "Has she ever traveled this far from home?"

"Nope."

"Damn. Good for her, then. It's hard to just leave everything behind, to leave your everyday life for this type of thing for this long," Max continued.

I listened intently, though I made it seem like I wasn't even conscious of the guys seated at the table with me. Where they thought I was mindlessly stirring my drink, I was reading between the lines of every vague fact Sam dropped about Daisy.

"Well," he held a hand before his mouth as he chewed, swallowed. He sat back as he began to unload more information about his sister, "No offense to her, but she doesn't have much of a life. She works, like, two-three jobs at any given time. She works at some clinic during the day, waits tables in the evening, then does some stuff on campus here and there."

"Shit. Hope she's taking care of herself," Adam commented, thoughtfully.

"She does. I think. I don't know. We don't really get much time together anymore. Ever since mom died...I don't know. It's been hard to stay connected."

"This summer's gonna be good, then, for you guys to get to see each other," Cy touched Sam’s wrist with his fist, encouraging our friend with his response.

"Yeah," Sam's eyes seemed a little distant then, like there were foggy memories, regrets clouding his consciousness, "Yeah, I hope so."

Max went to speak again when Sam's phone went off. He pulled it out, scrolling through the texts he'd received. "Speak of the devil."

Sure enough, Daisy came padding into the hotel bar. Her hair was damp, twisted up behind her head by some clip. Her features were more prominent this way, skin shining with the care she must have just put into it. As she approached us, her perfume breezed off her skin, off her stupid Taylor Swift hoodie, right past my nose.

It smelled so sweet that I had to look away, focus on something else.

Everyone else greeted her, asking about how she slept, how she felt. I was inattentive, attempting to make it seem like I hadn’t just been thrown off balance.

I needed to do something, say something to her, to be welcoming. To make it seem like I wasn’t such a dickhead, even though I pretty much was. So, I worked on some phrases in my head, hoping to catch her in a side conversation, so there wasn’t so much tension with the others listening in. But, she walked out of the bar as quickly as she'd come.

I found the air to be cooler without her occupying the space.

I shivered and turned my chin towards that freeze.

-

Later that evening, I found myself on the hotel roof.

It was one of my favorite spots, no matter which city we were passing through, which state I found myself to be stuck in. I could go up to the highest floor, even if it wasn’t too far off of the ground, tune out the stress that came with work, and relax into the peace and quiet.

It was one of the healthier coping mechanisms my therapist and I had been working on. I was an antisocial person, to say the least. And when I’d had to be around others for too long, working literal overtime to just function like a normal person, I’d become irritable, withdrawn.

So, stalking off in the late hours of the evening with a book in my hand and some lyrics in my head became a usual, practiced ritual that I was comforted by, especially on tours.

The breeze of London flew past my face, braising goosebumps on my neck. I tucked my chin into my hoodie more. There were these tiki lights, all around me and the intimate seating area I occupied, but the little bits of light did nothing to help me see the book in my hands.

I tucked it away after straining for a few moments and settled on just resonating with myself for a bit. I watched the flames of the fire pit before me, listened to it crackle and pop. I was so focused on the peacefulness, that I hadn’t even noticed the elevator ding, nor the person scuffling across the concrete of the roof.

In fact, I didn’t even notice her until she was sitting across from me, these little alcohol bottles in her hands. The movement of her sitting before me flitted my gaze up, edges of my vision blurred slightly from the intensity of the flames. My hearing focused after. There was music streaming from the speakers on her phone, some Taylor Swift song I didn't recognize. I withheld the urge to roll my eyes and studied her movements.

She read the label on the mini shot of Jack Daniels with squinted eyes. I'd never seen someone pay so much attention to a simple liquor Maybe she'd never drank it before. That would be a strange fact, considering she was 23. Every 23 year old I knew had gone through every liquor known to man. Then, she drank it and I realized why she was so observant. Her face turned up in this grimace, lips puckered, brows furrowed. She just couldn't handle her liquor. Her examination of the bottle was really just a hesitance to consume it in the first place.

I stifled a laugh and instead found my words, urged to tease her for this occurrence, "Gonna share?' Maybe I should have intruded her peace more gently, or maybe I should have said something sooner than I did. Either way, I had spooked her enough that she jumped.

Her once shocked grimace twisted into a deep frown, like she was annoyed I had disturbed her. "How long have you been sitting there?"

My grin widened, though it didn't seem like she found much humor in the situation. "Long enough to know you can't take a shot." I held out my hand, awaiting her to hand over one of the bottles. She didn't do that Instead, her face hardened a bit and she made another comment, “Sorry I’m not an alcoholic. If you want one, you have to come get it, by the way. I’m comfy now.”

I was taken back by her crudeness. Everyone said she was so kind, so sweet. I'd even overheard her niceties earlier, at the airport, at the bar. Had I done something?

Instead of setting the record straight, communicating, though, I became defensive to her jabs. As I reached for one of the bottles, I said, "Comfy with this trash music playing?"

Funnily enough, this made her face sink more, if at all possible. Her frown was deep as a river, and murky as one, too, "Real men listen to Taylor Swift."

I tried another joke, hoping it would salvage the wreckage we were feeding, "Hey, haven't you heard? I'm a vessel, not a man?"

I don't know if it did, but she at least continued speaking to me. "So, vessel, what are you doing up here? Can't sleep?"

I tossed my hand in her direction, speaking with my casual satire, "Obviously." I looked away from her, breathless. I was trying so hard, so incredibly hard to seem careless, chill. I didn’t know why I couldn’t just, actually, genuinely not give a fuck.

I reached for my cigarettes, too stressed out to handle a head that was some sober from nicotine. After a long drag, I felt that familiar buzz of a clear head, the temporary reduction of anxiety.

Cigarettes were always a killer ice breaker, helpful in even the toughest, most awkward conversations. So, when my eyes popped back open and met hers, I offered a hit.

If her face had been disgusted before, it was even more so now. "That's okay, thanks," she almost sneered.

I pursed my lips. Okay, I wasn't the only one killing this conversation. She acted like she was just too good for anything that I had to do with. Like if she were to take a drag from this cigarette, she'd be infected with my sickness.

I voiced the concern with my snide tone again. Her response nearly made me choke on my own spit, “More like my mom died of lung cancer because she smoked for thirty years.”

As quick as possible, I stomped the butt into the ground. "Sorry."

She hummed some sort of response, looking away so uncomfortably. I wanted to grovel, to beg for her forgiveness in the case of such a small moment of misunderstanding, but I settled on another painful jab at a nice conversation.

“I’d ask what you’re doing up, but I figured you wouldn’t be able to sleep after the day you had.” She responded in that same dry tone, "Yeah, no."

Annoyed, I began to wonder where all this sweetness had gone. Earlier, with the guys, she had spoken like she'd known them for forever. Here, with me- she acted like I'd spit in her coffee this morning, like I was holding her at gun point just to have this conversation.

I gave up on trying to be overly considerate and shot straight to the point. I wanted answers anyways, and now I had a good reason to search for them, "What's your deal, Daisy?"

"What the fuck does that mean?" She responded.

I shrugged as I crossed my arms over my chest. What did she want it to mean? "Why are you here?" Instead of just answering the question, she countered me, echoing the question. Good fucking game, Daisy Hallett. Good fucking game.

I stretched my body out as I thought, unsure of how to answer. What was I here for? To do my job, obviously. So, I told her that. But, I should have known she would pry deeper. That were her job, after all, to observe, analyze, pry.

“That’s not what you’re here for,” She rejected my words, shaking her head just slightly, “That’s what everyone else is here for. What about you, Oliver?”

I started making music for myself, not anyone else. In the darkest, most terrible parts of my life, it had gotten me through to the other side with ease. It was my biggest coping skill, sitting at a clear number one on the list my therapist and I had outlined.

Getting paid for it, getting to tour and travel cities…that was all a plus. Touring, performing itself, were two things I was still trying to get used to. It was awesome to get to play my music life for others, to help them through to the other side, but it was sometimes…overwhelming, a hard pill to swallow.

So, I answered honestly this time, “To…worship. To celebrate my music, myself…life.”

She was impressed by this answer, pleased, and I could tell this by the stretch of her lips. That sweet, enticing smile did something to me.

As she held up the shot bottle in a gesture to cheers, I returned the smirk. We danced on the edge of some invisible line.

"To life."

I wanted to hear more of her voice, more of...her, more about her. So, I scrambled and said, "Wait, what about you?"

“There’s no deeper meaning to anything I do,” she waved me off.

I understood her more in this moment than I sometimes understood the people closest to me. She was like- she was insecure, she was scared. She was a little kid with monsters under her bed and in her closet.

So, I affirmed her existence with words that seemed so simple, yet would have meant so much for me to hear, too. “Oh, Daisy, there’s always deeper meaning to everything humans do. Think. What’s yours?”

This threw her off balance, yet somehow kept her from falling off the edge. It made the gears in her head turn, made her question her own thoughts. "I guess…I guess…to find that deeper meaning. To find what I’m looking for, maybe.”

She still didn't seem too sure, but I knew that, once this summer ended, once the leaves turned brown, and she returned back to a place called home, she would know it in her bones.

And I think, maybe, I might know it, too.

Sooner, rather than the later that I hoped for, we were in the elevator. Hours of breathless conversation sat, stale in the air on the roof, abandoned as the steel doors trapped us in silence.

The more she told me, the more terrified I was of her very existence. She was smarter than me, and very good at returning snide comments. Her wit was so profoundly intelligent, that I found myself silenced on more than one occasion.

Above all this- she was a disruption- she was chaos. She made me think differently, harder. She made me laugh.

I was drawn in by all of this, by her eyes, by the way the corners of her pink lips curled up into her cheeks. It took me a second to realize that she was staring back up at me, that our shoulders were turning to face one another, that my fingers were grazing the sleeve of her hoodie.

"You're very pretty, Daisy," the words fell out in a dangerous whisper. I loved the way she blushed, the way the tip of her nose scrunched, and she fell back onto her heels a bit.

I would have kissed her, I knew that for sure, had the elevator doors not opened up, had we not parted ways there, in the barren hallways. And I would have sought her out, would have reached for a simple phone number, another moment on the roof, another conversation about life and college and her favorite fucking color...

had I not made it back to my room and looked myself in the eye, through the smudged reflection of the bathroom mirror. The painful eye contact brought me back down to Earth, reminded me of the ugliness swirled up inside my chest, the bitter desire of my own self interest, selfishness.

I was...I was the chaos. I was the disruption. Here was this beautiful, interesting, smart girl...and here was me, this man-giant, who could barely hold a conversation without feeling like he was going to have a panic attack. Besides all that, her brother was my fucking best friend. I was his boss.

This was territory that I could not enter, not without a guilty conscience and someone's broken heart. So, I would proceed with caution, although it ended up making me seem like the worst person in the world.

-

I knew I could no longer keep up the act only a few weeks in, all thanks to Whitney Houston and this stupid pink fucking dress.

I watched her parade herself all night, guzzling drinks like they were air, batting her stupidly prim and perfect eyelashes my way. She knew exactly how to get me going- how to lock me in, most of all. And I was playing right into the fucking game, weak signs and Achilles heels all exposed from the second that she stepped out of that hotel room.

When I saw that knowing, vivacious smirk- I knew tonight would be different.

It wasn't until she was passed out, in my bed, with my hoodie on, that I realized I was falling for her. I had been able to subside the hunger that I felt, the hunger I felt to speak to her, to consume her with my eyes, my teeth, my hands, my body- God. It was easy to push all these thoughts away when she wasn't there- but then, she'd show up at breakfast or dinner or in my dreams and thoughts and desperations and I'd spiral again.

It didn't help that I was letting it get to me so much- and she was literally trained in analyzing behavior. I exposed my curiosities with even the slightest dip in my gaze or lift in my shoulders. There was a moment, during breakfast, when she told us of her plans for the evening of one our first shows- that she wasn't coming to.

Max had to go and make a stupid joke when I just barly glanced up from my plate, "Even Ollie's hurt!" I stopped coming to so many social gatherings, at least where she was concerned. And, then, I got all the space I needed when we took off on the buses.

Everyone flocked to her side, wanting even a second of her attention, while I kept to myself on the other bus. Because I thought the guys might leave me alone about it, I could almost reside in absolute peace.

But, then, Ronnie came knocking on my bunk.

It was early morning. We were stopped for gas, somewhere in Northern Italy. The bus was deadly silent, with nothing but my own quiet breath and the hum of the outside world to keep e company. Ronnie came in, bounding, like she always did. She slammed the bus door shut, jarring me from the focus I'd had on the game of Mario Kart pulled up on my Switch. Next thing I knew, she was ripping open the curtain to my bunk.

"Why the fuck are you rotting in here like a mummy? I'm close to wrapping you up in toilet paper and shoving you in with the suitcases!"

I rolled my eyes as she spoke and slouched my shoulders away. The hood of my sweatshirt dipped enough that she was no longer in my view. "Sam needs to stop gassing up your jokes. It's getting to your head."

"You're literally just jealous because your jokes are only ever mean and borderline tone-deaf," Ronnie grabbed the lip of my hood and tugged it down over my face.

I wriggled away from her, Switch dropping towards the inside of the bunk. I shoved her hands away. "Says you, Miss Jimmy Carr."

Ronnie's jaw jutted open a bit, "Now that's fucked, Ollie."

I went to jab back again, but she held up a hand, head tilted like she was a tired, annoyed mother of a band of men babies. "Stop while you're ahead, dude. Back to what I came in to harass you about- you need to come join us! We're playing Mario Kart with peaches- Daisy, sorry. You guys would get along sooo great. I know you're, like, weird about new people, but she's so fucking funny. Please, please just come over, hang out, be chill for once in your life."

Peaches. They had given her a nickname. Peaches, as if she weren't already sweet enough to sour the cuts on my skin.

I huffed and puffed at the rant as I pulled my hood down the back of my head. "First of all, I don't play Mario Kart-"

"I literally hear the music coming from your Switch," Ronnie pointed with a dead stare at the device, muffled humming rumbling from beneath my blanket.

I met her eye, absent any shame of my white lie. I took a breath and dove back into my rejection, "Second of all, why the hell do you guys give out the cringiest, most ridiculous nicknames? Like, peaches?What even is that?"

"It's called joy, magic, and fun, you grinch," Ronnie pinched my elbow. I flinched away from her touch again and she snickered. "If you don't like Daisy, just say so. I won't tell anybody. I'll just resent and judge you in silence- silent words, not punches."

What did she mean, that I didn't like Daisy? I knew I'd been passive towards her, but I never made it so obvious-

The expression on my face must have read confusion or shock because Ronnie popped a hip and crossed her arms.

"Listen," she added, "I know that she probably irks you. I get it. You're the bad boy, dark soul type and she's this ray of fucking sunshine and, yes, peaches. Just- give her a chance before you rain all over her parade."

"I literally never said I had a fucking problem with her. Why does everyone think I hate her guts when I've literally only ever had one conversation with her?" I frustratedly spoke, words rushed together. Ronnie stood back a second, reading the scrunch of my brows, the way I pushed myself up onto my elbows. Then, her offended frown morphed into something knowing, as though bits of information clicked in her head.

"Oh," she rhythmed, grinning now, "I see what's going on here. Hey, she's gorgeous.” "Oh, my God, here we go," I stood from my bunk, now, unwilling to just lay there and listen to her try to evaluate my behavior.

Ronne didn't follow me as I made my way to the back room, "Ollie...just remember who you are. And who she is."

And this sentence alone threw me for the biggest loop.

I didn't even know what she meant by that, but as well I knew Ronnie...it was definitely more than met the eye, deeper than any surface level warning anybody else could give. Not only did I know Ronnie well, but she could read me like a book. She knew what to say to make my skin crawl. Who I am...who Daisy is.

Analyzing the statement from top to bottom, general to specific, it was simple. She was my best friend’s brother. And I was his boss.

It meant more than that, though.

Ronnie meant that Daisy…Daisy was delicate. Daisy was meat, fresh off a shattered bone, and I was a hound.

I was always the hound. The Albatross, even. A winged creature always coming in to swipe shiny things off of stormy shores.

Ronnie didn’t want to harm me with the statement, but she sure as hell wanted to humble me. And that she did.

Each time I found myself aching to find Daisy’s gaze, I’d shrink back into myself. Remember my place. Remember who I was.

And, then…that damn Whitney Houston song. That damn pink dress.

Ronnie knew I was slipping, when I first spotted Daisy, in the doorway of her hotel room, long legs on display. I caught my lips beginning to party, drool beginning to pool in my teeth. This appreciative smirk came upon my face until I met Ronnie’s frown.

And I moved on.

I kept trying to move on, to fly away, leave the gold necklace on the beach for some other lucky, hopeless idiot to clean the sand off of, treasure for the rest of their sorry days.

I paid for her meal, as some sort of reparation for the damage I must’ve done all evening, being the hungry being I was while she toyed with the lock on my cage.

But, I just couldn’t . Especially not when she was running from the bar, sickness visible on her face. I could’ve left it where it was- Max was shuffling after her, ready to help, ready to hold her hair up.

Before I knew it, my feet were racing me out of the door, my hand was on Max’s shoulder, a kind smile was reassuring him that I could handle it, that he could go back to having fun.

My hands were in her hair, my neck was cradling the crown of her head, she was reaching for my wallet, letting us into the hotel room, laying down on my bed. I was giving her my hoodie, placing a bandage on her leg, caressing her fruity skin.

And then…just like that, as quickly as the rain began, like when you can see it in sheets, pounding into the Earth, just there, off in the distance…then it’s splattering on your windshield, the sound jarring you from your tired drive, the blur harming your vision of the road.

It was raining in my hotel room.

I didn’t have an umbrella.

I spent the entire night, laying there on the bed beside her, faced away, tensed up. Every breath she took stopped my heart. Every wrinkle from the white sheets made my eyes blink.

I was spending so much of my thought process trying to remember the taste of her fleeting lips on my own, pressing my fingers to them as though they were stained from her, as though I could close my eyes and taste them, again and again and again.

Then, in the morning, she returned my hoodie. There was this…look…this distant, worried look. Had she remembered? Had she remembered the words I said? Was this going to change anything? Everything? At breakfast, I ignored her persistent eyes, the gaze burning into my soul for answers. When she told us she couldn’t remember anything, I was little relieved.

If she didn’t remember, I could put distance between us, try to forget it myself- try to forget the way her fingers buried themselves into my hair. Try to forget the feel of her nose, pressed into my cheek, her chest, warm against my own.

While I was able to put physical distance between us this week, being that work kept us busy. But, the mental, emotional yards were harder to climb.

Once we made it through the airport, to Italy, I began my practice of celibacy, against the thoughts of her, against us.

I think part of me knew it wouldn’t last. I think part of me didn’t want it to. I think that’s why I was there- in the elevator, headed for the roof, in hopes that I might find her there. I didn’t even know if it was a place she frequented, but my intuition told me it was a good place to look.

And I was right.

I acted shocked when I first saw her, like it didn’t help my blood pump, seeing her, feet in the water, hair curling around her forehead.

She looked so…tense. Stressed. There was this permanent furrow in her brow. Did she really not remember…anything? At all?

Though it was a relief, I wanted to jog her memory (I wanted to kiss her).

I asked Daisy, barely glancing over at her in the seat beside me. From the corner of my eye, I watched her chew upon on her bottom lip, “Not really.”

Why did it feel like a lie?

She must’ve remembered something. Sure, she had been drinking, but…she was smarter than that. “Okay,” I choked, snatching another look at her.

I noticed Daisy turn her chin to return the gaze and I looked back at the city. I couldn’t look into her eyes, look at her face. I’d crumble.

“Is there something I should be remembering?”

It was timid, shy. But bold.

Bolder than I could bring myself to be right now.

Unable to find my own words, unable to form my own lie, I echoed her.

“Okay,” she copied.

The moment swelled in my mind. I wanted- needed her to remember. I wanted her to feel the ache in my bones at the thought of our lips pressed together. Wanted her to feel the longing Maybe then, she’d be the one to break, and I could blame it on her. Make her out to be the bad guy, going after me.

What a fucked up thing to think about.

Before I could catch myself, I blurted, “You don’t remember-“

At the same time, she went to push further on the topic.

I excused myself, motioned for her to continue. But, of course, she let me go instead.

“You don’t remember coming back to the hotel?”

I knew I was confusing her.

“Not really. you’re sure there’s nothing you want to tell me? Something important I should be remembering?” her knuckles, clasped together, were turning white.

I shrugged and pretended to be unaware, “I don’t think so.”

“Why did you tell me to come sit with you?”

She really knew how to make a guy question his own thought patterns. It would make her a really great therapist- but it just made me want to run.

To hide. To slip away from this disruption in my damaged peace.

I sighed, thoughtful, though still unsure, “I don’t know. Thought it would be nice. Like when we were in London-“

“Like when we were in London and you proceeded to pretend like we never did this? Like when we were in London and you kept interrupting me, so I couldn’t tell everyone we had been up on the roof together?”

So, she was pissed.

I knew she would be. She acted like she didn’t care, but I saw through the disguise. It reminded me of me.

I shrugged, putting on the same play, “Like that.”

I guess that was the comment that sent her off the edge, though. She was too guarded, too respectful of herself to take the bullshit I pushed. “I’m gonna go to bed.”

That wasn’t it for me. I needed to know what she knew. She obviously remembered more than she was letting on.

I slid into the elevator behind her, “Daisy-“

I swear to God, the rhythm of her breathing palpitated when I said her name-

“I need you to be honest with me. What do you remember?”

“Oh, cause you’re such a conscientious person yourself?”

I pulled at my hair, stressfully, “I really don’t think we’re on the same page right now, Daisy. Please, if we could just talk about this, if you could just tell me what you remember-“

Gears seemed to click in her brain. Something I said, the way I moved, the flash of the stars in her eyes, something had triggered a memory in her head. Something suddenly made sense.

I tried to help, though I was probably just being an asshole. “I want to figure this out, okay?”

I wanted to figure her out.

Whatever clicked was- it fucked things up.

“Oliver,” she frowned, “I can’t play this game with you.”

Game?

What game?

I was only ever playing defense- keeping to myself, keeping her away from my heart, trying to maintain distance. She had kissed me- I was the one to turn her away.

My shoulders fell, “What game? Daisy…I’m confused!”

“So am I, Oliver!”

Fuck. The way she said my name-

“I’m- you’re fucking with my head!”

Like she wasn’t fucking with mine?!

I went back to my original question, hoping to continue digging there, instead of worrying about this new hole she was unburying, “What do you remember?”

“It doesn’t matter, Oliver! I just don’t want to do this with you. Max is right. I should listen to him.” What the fuck did Max say? Why was he involving himself in this? How did he even know about- us- when we didn’t even- what?

What was happening?

“I’m not doing this with you.”

The doors opened, and she was leaving me. In her dust. In the swell of her words.

I retreated back to my room, throat tight, chest contracting for any gulp breath I could get. I fell back against the door like there were bullet holes bleeding out of my chest. I wanted to just...be honest. To be honest with her. Tell her what I really thought, what really happened, how I felt about her.

It wasn't the boundaries holding me back now. All my senses of morality and respect for our situation were dead. It was me. I was the iceberg. I was the gun.

I found my way to the bed, lay there like an empty casket. Dead, hollow, shards of wood. Why was I so afraid of her?

Maybe she'd be good for me...better than the last relationship I had, that much I could already tell. But, maybe she didn't want me for that.

Maybe she wanted to scalp me for my money, for my fame, dish out the gossip to the tabloids. Maybe she wanted to love me.

Maybe I deserved something good. Maybe I deserved to take a risk on something. Maybe I needed to. I was outside her door, before I was really conscious to my own movements, knocking, waiting. For barely a second.

She was opening the door, standing there in this barren light like an angel.

"Daisy."

I was kissing her.

Whatever she wanted, whatever she needed, whatever cruel fate she may prophesize or goodness she may expose to my paled skin- I didn't care.

Because she was kissing me.

-

I hadn’t been with someone for over a year.

That was what was so jarring about the entire situation.

It made me cautious, held me back. I’d been on a dating ban since I switched to my new therapist, who wanted me to focus on myself more than I always did on another person.

And for a while, it was going well.

Until Daisy disrupted that.

I knew, for as long as she was alive, breathing my air, I just could never be alone.

Usually, when I dated someone, when I was with them…I still felt that loneliness because I would give so much. And that person never returned it.

Daisy did, by a tenfold. She was…present. She so easily showed up, made time for me, chased me down when I went into those bouts of self isolation.

It was difficult to let her in…to let her join me in the dark.

But she made it feel less lonely. She made me feel…whole.

I started going to breakfast more often, started including myself in the group activities. Not only did she make me feel less alone, but she made me feel like I needed human connection.

“It’s warm, isn’t it?”

I scoffed at my therapist’s words, so simple for something so complex. “Warm. It’s hot. I feel like I’m on fire.”

“Good. Burn,” she responded. “You’re in the light now, Oliver. How do you feel about it?”

“Wow, what a question,” I teased.

Dr. Grime sighed heavily, crossing her arms over her chest. The movement was delayed, due to the time zone different, the laggy wifi in the hotel room. “Seriously, Oliver. Is it…do you feel like you want to snuff it out?”

“Of course I do,” I shuffled on my bed, “you know me. Something good comes and I feel like I don’t deserve it. But…I think it might be okay if I hang around in this for a while.”

“I think so, too,” she smiled. “I like how your language has changed, too. You’d tell me, ‘I don’t deserve this.” Now you say, you feel like you don’t deserve it. You’re recognizing rational thoughts from emotional ones. That’s very important. I’m proud of you.”

I offered a strained smile in response, uncomfortable with her praise. It was appreciated, though, and gave me body a sense of accomplishment.

Maybe I was getting better.

“So, this Daisy,” she leaned forward, more intrigued with the personal aspect of my love life, like some maternal figure.

I chuckled, shaking my head approvingly, “Daisy.”

“Do you…love her?” Dr. Grime poked.

I blushed, deeply, but quickly shoved the thought away, “Oh, no. No way. I…I barely know her. That’s- that’s crazy. Definitely not. No.”

My phone dinged in rhythm with the end of my sentence. It was her.

Daisy: soon as sam goes to bed, i can be over

My eyes lingered on the text, more concerned with this situation now than the accusatory, knowing tone of my therapist’s words.

“Mm,” she paused, “no, of course. So, is this just…a casual summer fling for you? A way to get over everything this, figure out what it is you want out of a relationship? It’s important to have something like this, a stable ground to work up off of for the future, considering you don’t have a great idea as to what love should be like.”

“Maybe,” I shrugged, toying with my phone. I stared at the message, reading and rereading the message again and again.

What…was this.

What was this to me?

What was this…to her?

We’d established some boundaries, mostly that I couldn’t really commit to anything to serious. And she said that had been okay.

Was I still okay with that?

Was that still what I wanted?

I was so obviously falling in love with her, but I would never tell anybody that.

Especially not her.

But it didn’t matter if I loved her- did I want her that way? Did I want this to last past the summer?

I did.

And that’s what scared me the most.

Loving her beyond the swept up dream we were caught in, back home, domestically. Loving her casually, routinely, in the kitchen back in my apartment, through school, sharing plants and bath towels.

I wanted that.

I wanted her…her ends and odds.

I lied, “No. I don’t want that right now. Got tour going on, new album soon. You know. Busy.”

Long after therapy ended, I stared at the message. The sun had set, the day had died…and I just couldn’t think of anything to say.

I think if I were to be around her right now, I might blurt out some passionate, mindless thing that I couldn’t bring us back from.

I needed to do…what I always did. Be alone. Ruminate in my thoughts in the darkness of a foreign hotel room in a strange city. All alone.

This felt…easier. Comfortable. What I was good at.

Yeah…this was easier.

The next day, I couldn’t stay from her any longer.

I needed her and she was needed that, too- however we could get each other.

So I pushed aside the feelings I had for her- put up all my walls and boundaries, and took her into my arms-

We would have this summer, even if it killed us.

–

"Hiya, Ollie, dear!"

My mother's voice was a sweet symphonic sound to my tired ears. We were in near opposite time zones, hundreds of miles apart, and I missed her more than anything. Touring usually took everything out of me and she was the one, separate, stable person I could turn to.

We'd only called once or twice the past few months due to my obsessed perversions with a certain best friend's sibling who had been taking up all of my time- not that I was complaining about who.

It was only recently that my mom and I had established such good rapport. Since I was young, she'd struggled to wrap her head around my career choices. Now that I was fully devoted to the act, and quite successful, she pushed aside her disagreement with it and chose to just keep supporting me.

Though I couldn't always answer, her calls were welcome.

"Hi, mum," I sat up in the hotel bed, my back sighing in gratitude at the change in posiiton. i had been rotting in here for a few hours, a little bored since Daisy was out with her friend. I could've went and hung with the guys, but I honestly needed some time to myself. That time was starting to really feel like loneliness, though. I guess before I met Daisy, they were empty hours full of empty feelings. Now, I was waking up to the reality of my existence. I'd made it so dull.

"Are you in Paris yet? Or are you still travelling?"

"We made it a few days ago," I replied. “Show’s tomorrow."

"Oh, I love Paris," she remarked. I could hear her lovely grin through the tone of her words. "I remember when we went there on a school holiday. My favorite part was the Eiffel Tower. It's so big. Now, I hear that it sparkles. You'll have to take a photo for me."

"Sure, mum."

"Have you gotten out much or are you holing up in your hotel room?"

Sheepishly, I scratched my neck. My response was delayed a bit; we both knew the answer. “Uh...I’m getting out there. Ya know, hanging out.”

“Ugh, Ollie,” I could nearly hear the roll of her eyes through the phone. “You know need a lady friend. Someone to drag you out of your bed. I mean, how many times do you get to see Paris. And get paid for it!”

At the mention of a ‘lady friend,’ I blushed. I hadn’t gotten a chance to tell her about Daisy, and damn did I want to. Though we weren’t even officially together. I didn’t know how to explain that to my mom, so maybe I’d just shy away from the topic, talk about something else.

But I guess my lapse of silent thinking made her think that there already was a lady friend.

“Oh?” she questioned with a cheerful lace to her tone. I didn’t say anything, my brain was unable to come up with anything in response. Acting defensive always made people think the opposite of what I said. Should I just tell her? Get it out of the way? Let her lecture me about my poor choices.

“Well, I won’t badger you. When you're ready,” she was already responding.

I was surprised that she was going to leave it there, to say the least, which only furthered my sentence. She usually pushed until I gave her some semblance of the truth. As she was getting older, I’d realized she gotten more relaxed and didn’t push as much as she used to. I think it was partially due to the guilt she felt for everything between us growing up.

So, I just went to move the subject along when she jumped back on it, “Just- please don’t tell me it’s that Fiona girl. I’m so sorry if it is. I just can’t sit around and watch you be treated so poorly by someone so...so awful. Again. Her personality is just- wow. Though, I shouldn’t be surprised. I went to school with her mum, and she was awful towards me. Apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree-”

I had to stop her while she was ahead. I guess some things never really, truly changed. "Mum, please! I’m not seeing Fiona again, I promise. I’m not...”

I wasn’t offended that she thought I was. It was just...more or so shocking. Shocking that she thought I’d put myself back in that. I had, a handful of times before. But...I was different now.

I guess she hadn't been around me these past few months, but I had truly changed. This past May’s Oliver very well could’ve let Fiona waltz back into his life. But July’s Oliver? He would’ve been hesitant.

And, even more so- Daisy’s Oliver...Daisy’s Oliver was a changing man. Daisy’s Oliver was a better man.

And I wanted to tell my mum that, I decided. She needed to know- it would ease her mind, along with my own. I know she was always worried for me. So, I told her-

“No, I’m seeing someone else. Her name...her name’s Daisy,” that felt good to admit, to put into the Universe, that I was seeing her, and she was seeing me, even if there were no labels attached.

“Daisy?” she perked up at the name. “That’s a pretty name. What’s she look like? You got any pictures you can text me?”

I realized quickly that I didn’t. In the near two months that we had been sleeping together, consuming one another’s souls, we hadn’t taken a single picture. It was probably for the best, just in case they somehow fell into the wrong hands. But- there were so many moments I could’ve- should’ve- captured. Moments of Daisy, hair whipping past her face on the roof, the lights of Italy glowing behind her like she had angelic wings. Daisy, in my hotel room, in the early morning before she had to sneak away. Tired eyes and an even more exhausted smile as she laughed at something stupid, I’d done in my sleep.

I wanted one. I wanted a picture of her, a picture of us, whatever I could get.

For now, all I had was my memories to help me describe her to my mum. It was easy to do so, considering she was etched into the very nerves in my mind.

“No, I don’t,” I breathed out, “but she’s beautiful. She’s got this-this- God, I can’t even describe her to you. Her hair’s darker, like yours. She’s got these brown eyes. Shorter than me, of course. You can always tell it’s her, though, just by the way she carries herself. She’s got this energy. You’d just have to see it to believe it.”

“She sounds amazing, Ollie,” she sighed distantly then giggled, “Well, if she’s so pretty, where are the pictures? I need to see her! Need to see what this talk is all about.”

I chuckled in response, “I know, I know. I suck.”

“It’s alright. I’m sure it’s difficult, with you on tour and her...what does she do, exactly? Where is she from? Would I know her?”

Here came the long winded, shameful explanation of everything between Daisy and me. The feelings that weren’t feelings, the girl who wasn’t mine, the upset sea tumultuous between us. Her brother. Sam.

I tried my best, “Well, she’s working towards her counseling license. So, she goes back to school in the fall. But right now, she’s on tour with us. Her brother works- um...Sam’s her brother. She just wanted to do some traveling before getting tied down for the next few years.”

“Sam? Sam Hatlett? She's his little sister?” There was a bit of shock in her tone now like I imagined there would be. Sam was like a brother to me, and mum knew that. In fact, she loved Sam. She always had.

When she first met him, she’d pulled him under her wing like a mother bird, like she could just feel that he needed her. So, to imagine that I might go after his little sister is rightfully shocking. It was close to home.

“I know, I know. Again, I suck,” I laughed, though I felt so tense. Rubbing my neck didn’t ease the tension in my skin.

“You don't suck, darling. It’s just a precarious situation, I’m sure. How does Sam feel about it all? Was he weird when you first started dating Daisy?”

When I first began to tell my mum about Daisy, I doubted whether or not I wanted to be completely honest. But I easily fell into the comfortability of her warm conversation and realized I could not bend the truth. Not only did she deserve to know it, but she needed to. I knew, too, that she wasn’t going to judge me, tell me I was making a bad decision. It took three times with Fiona for her to begin voicing her opinion.

Above all, I didn't need to jump through any hoops to win her approval. I didn’t have to play a role, fill a part. I was me. And she loved that man.

I realized, subconsciously, that this was how I felt about Daisy, too. Comfortable. Easy.

Loved.

I explained things to my mom, carefully, making sure she knew of the endless boundaries Daisy always ensured we had and the sweet, delicate moments that made everything worth it. I nearly fell into myself, swept up in the reminiscent beauty of it all. God, I missed her, even if it had been only two days since I’d seen her. Her friend Sasha was in town and took up all her time.

I didn’t know what I was expecting my mom to say, so I held my breath after I finished saying, “But, I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s just a summer thing or what. We’re both kinda in weird positions, so we’re not too worried about that, I guess. We’re just...having fun, ya know?”

As the insecurity rose up my throat and choked me out, I sighed out the rest of the air I had in me and added, “We’re not, like, in love or anything.”

I hadn’t expected her to laugh, that’s for sure.

But she laughed. My mum giggled, like things were well and truly hilarious, like I had just told her a joke. I waited there in silence, waiting for her to make fun of me for being so stupid as to let this situation occur. Laugh at me for being terrible at love and life. There goes Oliver again, breaking hearts, getting his heart broken. He can’t even be in a stable relationship! Laugh, laugh, laugh.

She said, “You are crazy, Ollie,” but it wasn’t meant in a harsh manner.

It wasn’t condescending, it wasn’t mean. She wasn’t making fun of me. She was...she was laughing because it was funny.

“You are usually so good at going after things. I mean, look at you with your music, darling. I said no, how many times? I insisted you do something, anything else. I never supported you financially. I never...I never supported you. I was the odds you were testing yourself against and looking at you now! I mean,” her voice cracked. A sniffle followed. My muscles eased from the discomfort I felt into something that wanted to reach for her through the phone, hug her.

“I know your father and I didn’t give you the best example for love. I know we weren’t some movie star-couple that everyone always knew would last forever. We fought. We weren’t there for you when we should have been. Your father left you. And then I held all these stupid expectations up to you, to try to make you better. And you! You’re successful!”

“And I give you all the credit for that. You are...my pride and joy, Ollie. My life. I am so proud of you, darling. But it breaks my heart, still, that you have not been able to find happiness. That you must spend so much time repairing what I broke. We cannot blame everybody else- you can...you can blame me, Ollie. I know I am to blame. And that is okay.”

“So, forgive me for laughing, forgive me for calling you crazy and stupid and wild, darling, but- it's right in front of your face, Ollie! She’s right there in front of you. Daisy. Darling, if you’re still questioning what love is, what it’s supposed to feel like...please let me knock some sense into you! You are wasting so much precious time on believing that it can only leave. It doesn’t have to stay for long for it to be important. If she leaves at the end of the summer, you will regret not telling her.”

I didn’t have to ask her what she meant; what she knew I’d regret not saying. I knew it, I knew it as well as I knew Daisy’s face, even more clear in my memory now.

“You can beat around the bush some more if you’d like, or you can carry on with this facade you’re so deeply transfixed by. Darling, I know it’s hard to let the chaos subside, to let the goodness in, but as I am getting older, I am realizing that it is bright. It is...comfortable. It is good. You deserve to have a lifetime of that. Don’t waste any more time, Ollie. Please tell her, please let her tell you. Please just...hold what you have.”

I had borne a hole into the wall, but snapped out of my still position when I felt a tear roll down the side of my nose. “H-how? How do I tell her?”

“However you need to,” she chuckled lightly. “Although, here’s a hint, Ollie: you are in the City of Love. Take advantage.”

I knew our call was ending and didn’t know when we’d get to speak again. So, like she had told, I took advantage of the moment and I held what I had; “Mum, just so you know,” my voice came out as a whisper, a gentle patter of rain on the roof.

“Yes, Ollie?” she whispered, too, like there was a gentle card deck stacked between us. I think maybe there was- I think there was always some sort of tension lingering from the harsh moments we’d beat into each other; the fighting, the leaving, the crying. I don’t think she ever felt like I’d forgiven her, as if I really needed to. She had been growing up, too, after all.

“I love you, you know that?”

“I know, baby,” I felt relieved that there was a smile in her tone, “now, go. You have some more dreams to chase down. And, Ollie?” “Yeah?”

“Get some pictures for me.”

-

I was lucky that, the next day, everyone was busy with their own plans on opposite sides of the city. So Daisy and I were able to spend some time together, outside of this drywall prison. I was a pretty good listener, too, and remembered all the spots Daisy had gushed about seeing in the little time we’d had together these past few weeks. I was being given the perfect setup to do what I needed to do: we were going to be alone, in the most romantic city on planet Earth. I could finally tell her how I felt.

Of course, so much of me shook with anxiety. What if- she didn’t feel the same way? She didn’t want to risk it? She didn’t want to commit to someone this close to school? Let alone someone who lived across the world from her? These weren't my only fears. There were so many revolving around my career that I could’ve drowned beneath their weight.

Yet, each time I looked at her, I was anchored to her shoes. I couldn’t drift out to sea. I was grounded. Though my fears about how she would react sank, it took another amount of effort to get the words out.

I could’ve done it right away, gotten it out there, cleared the air, so we could enjoy each other even more. That would’ve been the best way: I would've gotten answers, started the day out on the right foot. But, when we got out onto the streets, I was swept up in the busy buzz of the crowds. It was loud in the cafe we grabbed breakfast at, loud on the sidewalks, overly crowded by the river. We finally found a place to sit, breakfast sandwiches and drinks in hand. Though there were still throngs of people all around us. So what good was the City of Love when it was full of ignorant tourists?

The anxiety of what I wanted to do was making me feel grumpy. I shut down a little bit, unable to really engage in much conversation, let alone tell her how I felt. I think it just looked like exhaustion to Daisy, so she didn’t really notice. I did- I was hyperaware of every short sentence, every avoided gaze. All of these people are going to be standing here when I tell her. They’re going to watch her reject me and they’re going to know. They're going to know I’m not good enough. She’s going to walk away from me, leave me stranded in the park, alone with my own rejection and denial. I’m not good enough I’m not good enough.

I thought about what my therapist would tell me, ways to snap myself out of this maladaptive pattern of behavior. My brain lies, she always said. It makes things up, creates false realities based off things others have said to me, or moments of true insecurity rooted in no sense of truth.

Daisy would want me, even if I wasn’t good enough. That was the one assurance I could tell myself to shake off the weary thoughts.

And if she didn’t- well, I don’t think thinking about that was going to help me very much. So, when we got back into the hustle and bustle, shopping around the city, visiting the sights, I opened myself back up.

I didn't know if I’d ever find the confidence. I was on the precipice again, after lunch, when I began spewing cheesy pet names as a sublimation for the words I needed to say. It shocked her at first, hearing such sweet things coming from me. And that stung a little. Was I that monstrous towards her that simple affections made her brows shoot up? Was I that bad? I repeated them once, twice, just so she really knew I meant it.

The day went on and on and I cowered in on myself even more. There were plenty more ample moments, but I just kept letting the clock tick down. I knew we were running out of precious time. If I didn’t tell her now, we would go straight back to secret moments in a hotel room, balancing on a tightrope, pretending like the moment the leaves changed color, we wouldn't be losing each other. I just knew Daisy wanted that about as much as I did.

Just when I was giving up hope, I found my moment, finally. Just after we had stopped to view the Eiffel Tower, some street side scam artist grabbed some pictures of us and was trying to convince me to spend $200 on the copies. At first, I brushed it off, until I caught a small peak at the images on his camera. Before he could spout another line, I was giving him $100. He gave me three photos.

Where my words may fail, these pictures couldn’t. You wouldn’t have to know Daisy and I personally to well and truly and see how infatuated we were with each other. I wasn’t even worried anymore that she wouldn’t want me. I was worried she wouldn’t want the risk, the jump, the caution of a fall.

These would be to convince her to leap. These had to be.

I stopped us outside the hotel, knowing if once we stepped inside, our memories might as well be cleared of the day's events. We would be going back to normalcy, to the real world. Our friends would be waiting there, we would allow the gap between us to grow. I would swallow my words and choke on them.

“I love you,” I pictured myself saying. “I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you, I love you in London, you in Paris, you at home. I love you from the hotel rooms we’ve indented to the streets we’ve wandered. I love you in the plane, on the bus, in every inch of this world.”

But it just wouldn’t come out.

I tried to encourage myself by thinking of who I was just a year ago. By thinking of how I was a year ago, the person I was dating, the situation I was caught up in. Fiona, the endless hours of fighting, of begging. Crying, screaming, the blood sport we played. Hunter and prey, me the victim and yet the one wielding the sword. I thought of Daisy when I first met her. The scent of her in my nostrils, like a clue that I was to hunt for as long as I could run. Of her in my teeth, when I first caught up to her incessant running. The satisfaction I felt, how disgusting that was. How horrible it was that I loved the taste of her blood on my lips.

And how much better I could breathe knowing that I had let go, that I had put my claws away and instead threaded a needle to stitch her skin close. How beautful that was- the beast retracting, the mask falling away. A true creature coming to light, renewed and willing.

Tears welled in my eyes. The words were there, finally, waiting just atop my tongue. She was leaning closer, clutching my hand, clutching those photos like a rosary, like she would sacrifice herself for me. I would, too. I would I would I would I would.

I think I hesitated a moment too soon, or I think she could tell what was happening. I think tha- that, I think that she was running again.

I think she wanted me to chase her or to stop, or she was placing traps in the woods, waiting for the wolf with a bow in arrow.

Because she was pulling away. And our friends were calling our names.

I didn’t have time to think, wrapped up in the swell of the arrival of our friends.

But I felt the death of the moment. It was heavy. It was rotten.

Later, I sat alone in my dressing room before the show, the photo I had kept between my fingers. I swear I could hear her breath, echoing from inside the paper frame of us. Swear I could feel her hands on my arms, grasping as though the wind would take us away from each other. Her lips on my cold ones, warm and fueling like a kindled fire.

I wondered if she threw the photos away. If she stared at them, with resentment. If she wanted to burn them.

Yet, I could’ve lived and died in that moment if I had to. If I was never able to tell her how I really felt about her, I’d be content to waste away, hanging on her lips like a vine, rotting from indecision and cowardice.

Eventually, Sam poked his head in to let me know it was time to go on. I flinched when he first spoke. It drew me back to reality in harsh, cold lighting. I drew the photo from my face, met his eye, and nodded.

I was lucky he didn’t ask any questions about my reserved response, though I knew he was aware that I was getting into character as this vessel. Part of me wished he had asked, though, if only to have someone to share the darkness with again, if even for just a second. And maybe outing Daisy and I to Sam would force me to tell her everything. Force some sort of decision to fall from the loitering hammer that hung above us.

Sam left. I set the photo down on the counter, not even thinking straight enough to put it away somewhere. Then, I hung the mask on my face, edges of my eyes darkened, just like my mind.

Part of me wished I didn’t even have to perform tonight. Every time I put on this disguise, I was reminded of those dark parts of me, the parts of me that were too much like this creature the costume made into. When I’d first come up with the character, I felt so strongly that I was just like Vessel- nothing but a pit of black, music transporting through me like some god had planted it there. I hadn’t been aware of my very real feelings. I just sat there, in that emptiness.

Things were different now.

Maybe I just needed a break from it all, from the costumes and the concerts and Daisy. Well, not Daisy. Not her. Just...everything involving her.

But never her. I just wanted her always, everywhere.

I didn’t get to have that, though, the break nor Daisy.

In fact, all I got was a slap in the face. When I went on stage, I spotted Daisy in the audience. For a split second, there was a lift in my heart, a fire in my bones. She was here. She hadn’t pulled away- she wanted me. She wanted me.

Then, as the lights flickered, I noticed the look of guilt on her face and the hand around her waist, She was here...with someone else.

I felt myself retracting, cocooning, not for growth, not for birth into something good, something with fluttering wings...but into that moth. Into that darkness.

Into that vessel.

In my fury, I laid claim to Daisy in all the wrong ways. I held her by the throat and let her dangle from my lips, reminded her how desparate she was for me, reminded her just how much she relied on my game. It had never been and never would be our game. I was the villain. I was the hunter.

She was my prey.

I was losing hope for my own reconciliation, for my own change. Maybe I would just always be detached, dark, monstrous. Maybe I would never be able to commit, to give in, to be someone’s something.

Maybe I was just this vessel, and maybe this vessel was just me.

Maybe I was never good enough for Daisy, but just enough to satisfy her furious need for that bad. And that was enough for me.

-

Things got worse when Fiona started blowing up my phone.

I wasn’t sure how she had gotten my number. I had changed it back in March, when I’d ended- really ended- things with her. And, with my career, it wasn’t like I’d just handed my number out to any person on the street. I had, maybe, ten contacts on my phone.

Daisy was one of the few I responded to.

But, somehow, someway, Fiona had gotten hold of my number and began blowing my phone up with messages. I blocked her the minute I noticed, after a show when I had time to get on my phone. Then, a few days later, she started messaging from a different number.

They were innocent claims- she kept saying I had left things at her flat and needed to come pick them up. But I knew her better than that. She was trying to use this to weasel back into my head, my heart. She’d convince me to come pick everything up and then, when I was there, she’d start crying. Start saying how much she loved and needed me. She’d convince her into her bed, and we’d start spiraling down into that same old waltz we both knew too well.

After I blocked this contact, I guess she evolved. She started using an unknown number, so I couldn’t even block the contact. I called my manager immediately and told him I needed to get a new phone number. Apparently, all the stores around us were closed for a few days, which just so happened to be my fucking luck. But he promised to get something for as soon as possible.

In the meantime, I just had to ignore her.

So, I booked a last-minute therapy appointment.

I glossed over everything with my doctor, telling myself that things with Daisy were hopeless. She obviously thought me to be disposable. I mean, I had watched how quickly she’d pulled away, how quickly she found another empty face in the crowd.

I didn’t want to admit that shameful situation to my doctor. I didn’t want her to know I’d let myself fall again.

Instead, we talked about Fiona, about the temptress knocking on my door. My doctor kept reminding me to, “Stay strong. Know your worth.”

Easy words for someone in a healthy, happy marriage.

All it would take was one more wrong look from Daisy and one wrong text from Fiona, and I’d end up back off the cliff.

So, I clung to the guys. Daisy had been...not so distant but detached. Cautious. She was taking the lead, so I followed. We still hung out, still fucked like we had been doing. Still had these meaningful, deep conversations that made me wonder, over and over, what the fuck was going through her head. But honestly, I now spent some of that extra time with Max, Cy, Adam, or Sam. We were due to begin working on the next album and I had plenty of ideas floating around in my head.

It was peaceful, quaint. Something I’d missed. Maybe I wouldn’t be ready to start dating again if something like this caused me so much stress.

Adam was texting me now, wondering if I wanted to hang out sometime this morning, talk about the album. I told him I’d let him know what time, considering Daisy was in my bed. And Fiona was blowing my phone up like fucking crazy.

The whole situation threw me off. She wasn’t really concerned about it, but made numerous, passive jokes about me having a secret girlfriend. I don’t know if it was because she really, truly wanted me to be exclusive to her, or if it was just something to do with her pride.

Signals were still mixed, even after we’d had a conversation about how committed we were to each other. Part of me wondered if it had just been an act, her agreement to never see anybody else, her admittance that she was, “mine.” If it had just been something brewed from the heat of the moment. But, when I answered the phone, set it back on the nightstand, I swear to God I saw something in her eyes shift, like she had been bothered at the thought of me with someone else.

Or it would be shitty in general if I was seeing someone else.

I weighed telling her, every single, how I felt about her. I don’t know that if I told her I loved her it would change anything. I had all but done so, and she still was unmoving. She still had gone and found that faceless nobody in the crowd.

Today, I felt like maybe I should. Tell her.

As soon as she had left, someone knocked on my door. I didn’t think it was Daisy, considering Sam would be waking up soon and she needed to get back into bed. When I looked through the peephole, Adam was there, staring over his shoulder sort of strangely.

“Hey, dude,” I started as I opened the door, then turned to make my way over to the bed where my book bag was. I reached in for my notebook, continuing, “so, I’ve got a few good ideas rattling around-” probably a few too many about Daisy, “that I wanna show ya.”

He slowly entered the room, shutting the door softly behind him, “Yeah, uh...” he approached me sort of hesitantly, distant confusion in his pupils, “I think we...should talk about something first.” He didn’t seem too sure of himself and the words he was saying were cautious. So, my tone slowed, hardened “What-what’s up?”

He finally met my eye and I felt like a sword had been shoved down my throat, “I just talked to Daisy...out in the hallway.”

I set my book bag down, hands having been frozen around the straps like someone cursed me into the stoic, icy position. All I could think to say was, “Oh.”

Adam nodded half-heartedly, “Yeah. Oh. I... don’t know what to say, really. I knew you guys had been...like, it was obvious. To me and I think Max, at least. Sam is kinda clueless and, he and Ronnie are totally sleeping with each other.”

Well, that was obvious. So obvious that I could have snorted, but I was too focused on the wild realization that everyone basically knew. All of that sneaking around, trying to be secretive- well, it didn’t fucking matter. And it didn’t seem like it really mattered that much.

“Are you gonna, like, scold me or something?’ I sat on the edge of my bed, running a wary hand through my hair.

“No, I’m gonna tell you that you’re fucking stupid.”

“What?” I looked up from the ground, shock widening my eyes.

Adam finally softened his expression and chortled, though it was short before he was in on me again, “You’re stupid, Ollie. I don’t think you’re doing it on purpose. I think you’re just...Fiona fucked you up. And I’ve watched you slowly start to heal over these past few months. Daisy has everything to do with that. And...she fucking loves you, dude. She thinks the world of you. And you’ve both, I guess, been dancing this dance with each other, walking around the whole thing. I just told her, like- stop thinking less of yourselves. You both deserve something good. You’re both worthy of each other. So, stop being fucking stupid and just tell her.”

My face was hot. I clenched my hands together, knuckles turning white as all these rampant, loose feelings released in my chest, in my head. “She doesn’t love me.” Adam chuckled again, “That’s a bold fucking statement. She just told me herself how much she adores me.”

“Well, yeah, she likes me, that’s obvious,” I waved him off, “she wouldn’t be sleeping with me if she didn’t. But...I think I’ve made it clear so many times how much I want her. And she, just, doesn’t care. Or she turns away.”

“She’s scared!” Adam exclaimed, making me flinch just slightly. “Sorry,” he spoke quieter, like he had shocked himself with his tone of voice. “She’s scared, Ollie. She’s...she doesn’t know who she is. That’s why she came here. That’s why she pulls away, why she seems unsure.”

“Well, I know that,” I scoffed, “I know her better than anyone. You haven’t seen the way she...how she denies it. I know she denies it. She denies us- me.”

“Okay, tell me,” Adam nearly popped a hip at this, a sassy tone overtaking his authoritative one. “Tell me how she denies, what she says and does that makes you think she doesn’t want you. Tell me that she doesn’t love you.”

I thought, long and hard. I could've mentioned the very recent time when she had been dancing with another guy, at our concert, a prowling look in her eyes. Or, of the time when I was on the brink of telling her how I felt, then she pulled away. Or-

Wait.

Am I fucking stupid?

I’m so fucking stupid. I am the dumbest, stupidest idiotic idiot to have ever existed.

It was all right there, clearing up now like I was wearing new glasses. I had a new perspective- I had an unbiased, outsider’s view of the world I had been suffocating in. And Adam’s view was- a breath of fresh air.

I was so obviously the one turning away from her.

From the beginning, I’d been denying her, us, for fear that she wouldn’t want me that way. For fear that someone would find out, for fear that I might die if she ever looked away from me. And I’ve been covering it up with the excuse that I was broken, or hurting, or-or...worthless.

I knew differently. I’d known it differently for a while now but had been unable to act upon this rationality. I was too emotional, too, in my head. And that made me seem manipulative, and asshole-ish, and- fucking stupid.

Adam watched me carefully, watched me as I processed these past few months. My eyes were narrowed, confused, though they widened as the information unfolded in my mind, as the notches clicked together.

“You’re…right.”

Instead of worrying myself with the evidence that she, too, was afraid, I felt my head flood with memories, as tangent on my skin as the cool air of my hotel room. Memories of her devotion, her promise, her love. Memories of us in the stale morning, sharing stories of her mother and that little apartment back in America. Memories of us on the roof, atop the world, atop the feeling, a private sanctuary where even just the flash of her eyes should have told me everything that I needed to know. I was going to tell her I felt the same. I was going to pull her up to the roof, one of our most sacred secrets, and pour everything out onto the barren concrete between us. And I knew she would say that she loved me, too.

It was delicate and I would have to handle it as such. Any sudden movement, and we’d be falling apart, all over again.

But, then Max was bombarding my hotel room, spewing some nonsense about Daisy and Ronnie getting tattoos. He was dragging us to Sam’s hotel room. I was practicing the lines in my head, over and over, a prayer.

Daisy was looking at me with these doe-innocent eyes, like she, too, was praying to some old god. Altering herself for a breath that he may resurrect what was dying between us even now.

I found more words, new words- lyrics, pummeling my skull in wondrous discovery. It was right there- everything was- My phone wouldn’t fucking stop ringing and I thought that I might explode into atoms. I ignored the call, watching as Daisy’s face fell each and every time that it did. She well and truly thought that I was seeing someone else.

Enough was enough.

I took a step towards her, fully intent on putting a rest to the strangeness and awakening what was already there. But, then my phone rang again.

And Sam began making some joke about Fiona calling me, a knowing, devious smirk on his features. He didn’t know- how could he know? I couldn’t be upset with him, but I wanted to strangle him into the carpet.

But I couldn’t focus on that anger for too long-

Because Daisy was leaving like we both always left, one too many times, in one too many silent glares of this something that we just may never get right.

The delicate threads of us bent and snapped.