#wakes me up at god forsaken hours in the morning H

[vukovich]

Fisting prompt if you're interested! Two people down the hall from me hooked up on my very first night of university. He fisted her with a ring on and it cut inside her vagina and she bled everywhere and needed stitches. A bunch of girls (all strangers at this point) gathered to help her in the bathroom and it was very wholesome. Pretty sure they hooked up again after that too.

So the prompt is something along those lines with Draco fisting Harry while wearing a ring on their first night of 8th year/university/new job, etc., it doesn't go well, and Harry needs medical attention. He can have a vagina if you're feeling it, but no preference between that and ass. Merry fistmasssss

Put a Ring on in It

Draco never would have done it if Potter hadn't dared him.

"You gonna get cold feet now, Malfoy?"

They were both utterly pissed and high off triumph.

"Chicken," Potter said. He tossed his packer to bounce off Draco's chest and onto the floor.

It was warm.

Potter was warmer. And wet. Drenched. The only thing he said was "More", until Draco ran out of fingers, but Harry begged like a man starving.

They didn't quit until Draco's shoulder shook. He was pressure-red across the knuckles, like he'd punched a wall, then dunked his fist in Vaseline to put out the burn.

Potter excused himself to the restroom and didn't come back. Draco didn't take it personally. In fact, he hardly noticed.

--

Potter robbed him. It was the only plausible explanation.

In the morning, his ring and wallet were gone. He noticed the missing ring immediately upon waking. He missed it like a dead spouse, the absence in bed palpable.

Magic didn't find it, so it wasn't anywhere nearby.

When he wrested last night's clothes back on, his pockets were empty.

Potter. He scoffed at the indignity of it while doing up his cuffs. Of all damned people. Auror Potter.

A freshening spell would have to do this morning. He had a police report to file.

--

By the time he reached the desk, his ire had faded. Rather than demand to see Potter or loudly narrate the contents of his report, he cleared his throat and said:

"Yes, Auror Potter found my wallet and I'm supposed to pick it up from him."

The secretary glanced up at him sidelong. Then down. She lingered on his shoes.

"He's sick."

Draco considered finding Potter's office and breaking into it. The secretary wheeled her chair to a rotary phone on the other end of the desk. Her back was to Draco.

And then he was halfway down the hall.

Left: Aurors A-H Right: Aurors I-R Ahead: Aurors S-Z

"Helpful," he whispered to himself.

He kept his stride casual and did not think about what would happen to a former Death Eater, who was somewhere in the twilight between drunk and hungover, when he got caught ransacking a Senior Auror's office on a lark.

Potter, Harold James

"Pfft," Draco grabbed the doorknob and twisted, just to see how sturdy the lock was. "Harold James. Sounds like a porn-"

The door swung right open. Potter was sitting at his desk.

"-name..." Draco gulped. He considered bolting. Apparating. Throwing something and screaming. "Pocket sand."

"What?"

"I said, 'You're supposed to be sick'."

As soon as he said it, he felt it, himself. His hangover was approaching like a freight train of northbound nausea. He was adept at holding himself together, but the effort made him irate.

"Oh. I am. I'm on my way home." Potter shifted in his chair like he couldn't find a comfortable spot. "I was, ah," he held up a scrap of paper, "just going to Owl you. Actually."

"To apologize for robbing me in my sleep?" Draco hissed.

Why was he even here at this God-forsaken hour, anyway? Because Saint Potter was a klepto when he drank? He surely didn't need the money.

"Wait," Potter paused in pulling a clear plastic baggie from his robe pocket, "what? I didn't steal it."

He pulled it out even more slowly, and Draco realized he'd walked into a trap. Potter had engineered this. He was some kind of one night stand stalker. He wanted Draco to come hunt him down the morning after. And he knew exactly what to steal to spur Draco best.

"You arsehole." Draco's ire stuffed his guts back down.

He snatched the baggie and held it up. Inside was his ring, safe and sound. If a bit crusty.

Potter didn't say anything to defend himself. He silently watched Draco pour the ring out into his palm. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again.

He was probably disappointed Draco had figured him out. Maybe he'd expected Draco to be too cowardly to demand it back. That seemed more like Potter. He probably took a souvenir from all of his bedroom conquests. His wallet had better not be missing anything important.

"And my wallet?" Draco asked, like was collecting taxes.

Potter shot him a quizzical look.

Draco sniffed and said, "Or do you keep that for your sex trophy collection?"

"My what?"

"You know, your-"

And Potter leaned back in his chair, and the seat made a strange, clinical crinkling sound. And then the grind of ice cubes. And Potter's hissed breath.

And Draco finally looked down at his hands. There was a St Mungo's logo on the baggie. The dried gunk around the emerald was tinged with red-turning-brown.

Potter hadn't stolen out under the cover of darkness like a cat burglar, after all. He'd used Draco's bathroom and gone straight to the Mungo's A&E.

Potter said, "You probably left your wallet at the party. I think you left without your coat, too."

Draco gulped. His wallet was in his coat pocket in the cloak room.

The events of the night replayed in fast-forward. Many frames were missing.

"Didn't know you were left-handed," Potter said, as though watching the film in Draco's head.

"I'm... not...?" Draco said, dazed, as he desperately sought an exit.

He sent a man to the hospital and then hunted him down and accused him of theft. He'd gone to considerable lengths to do so, in fact. Illegal lengths.

The color drained from his face, and he wobbled a bit.

"I think I'm unwell," Draco warbled.

Potter handed him the folded scrap of paper and nodded towards the open door. In farewell, he said, "Interesting that wasn't even your better hand," but mostly to himself.

Draco didn't stop to consider it and shuffled in the general direction of the front desk. Presuming that the folded paper was a note to get him past the secretary, he unfolded it as he approached.

It was official stationary from the desk of Harold James Potter, Senior Auror.

Draco huffed at the self-important name choice.

There was no note. Not a single word. Just a doodle of a Niffler.

--

[stromulites]

List of Stuff for BJ and more Unsolicited Lore, plus the playlist.

I fucked up on the poll so i'll just post both of them wkelrnksdg. Also since it's in no particular order and my adhd's being a little Prick, it's kind of a mess. If it retreads old ground, hopefully it's giving more context to it and not just repeating the same thing. Playlist will be at the end H

~ Retains heat pretty well. If he was sunbathing for an extended period of time, he’d probably hold that temp for 3-4 hours before he returned back to room temp. Can get above normal human body temps this way.

~ Uses his wings to make himself look more imposing. Usually this ends badly since it’s most certainly an indoors conversation, and those things don’t fit indoors usually.

~ Is constantly worried he isn’t that great to hug/be in physical contact with since he’s cold all the time and what-not. Because of this he usually won’t initiate physical affection unless he just finished sunbathing or something.

~ Can, in fact, turn into a bird. A blue jay to be specific. All reapers can do this as it’s most cost effective to interact with the real/physical world this way. This does not mean they act like the birds they disguise themselves as though.

~ Currently is holding onto Grayson’s coat for them, after Sebastian finally gave it to him after getting tired of the constant Theft. Doesn’t wear it often because it feels weird, but does privately or to feel more secure.

~ Since it’s warm and kind of heavy, it relieves some of the dysmorphia from being room temperature all the time and weighing almost nothing due to being a ghost basically (21g normally). Wearable weighted blanket essentially.

~ Doesn’t know IDU!pico that well at this point, but doesn’t have a good impression of him. Mostly because Pico tried to kill him once, but since his face was covered BJ doesn’t know what he looks like. Only that he’s familiar and probably hates him by the way he keeps glaring holes into his back.

~ Doesn’t sleep often (doesn’t need to) since he most definitely will have nightmares about his death. Most Reapers make peace with it at some point, but since his death was so violent and emotionally charged, it’s unlikely he’ll let it go anytime soon. 0% chance to make him talk about it either unless he's in a breakdown or something.

~ That being said, being warm/in a place with people he knows and likes will make him doze off. Snores loudly. Sleeps like a brick when he doesn’t dream. Good luck waking him up when he’s not dreaming.

~ Still can sing, he doesn’t do it anymore on account of his lungs being Fucked and fried from smoke inhalation. Has traded this off to focus more on his guitar skills whenever he can. He does miss it though, and is easily carried away when he does feel better.

~ What he doesn’t know is that the coughing is more of a psychological effect of his death, and if he’s really into something, he won’t cough at all.

~ If he likes you well enough, he will start giving you his own feathers (the smaller ones from his blue jay form). Usually in the form of keychains/charms he put together himself, but sometimes he’ll give just the feathers.

~ All Reapers have a ‘Reaper’s Cane’. BJ’s is a microphone stand/looks like one without the microphone. He has taken to using it to great effectiveness as a blunt weapon.

~ Made a promise to Hannah a long time ago when they meet by coincidence as children. Immensely guilty that he broke it and left her alone for two years without any other friends/support. Has a new promise to himself to be there when she eventually does die, no matter what the cause would be.

~ The most Chronic of Worriers, but only in regards to people he loves/is close to. If he doesn't know you well and you snip at him, he will snip back and escalate. This will result in a fistfight where BJ strikes first if it's not broken up.

~ On the other hand, he enjoys sitting around and watching other people go about their business. Parallel play :)

~ Cannot cook, please don't ask him to do that. He hasn't touched a stove in two years and has a fear of fire. He will turn your Biscuits to Charcoal Briquettes and Cower when it catches fire.

~ Theoretically would be able to carry someone in flight, but just one occupant and probably not anywhere in his home dimension/timeline. Probably no set weight limit for that person? Just don’t expect him to carry an entire truck or whatever lmao.

~ Was initially nervous to leave Hannah alone for rgbfverse stuff, but Grayson pushed him to go. Both to give Hannah a breather, and so that BJ can unwind and not worry about her for a bit. It can’t be healthy to stress over this one detail for days on end, can it?

And here's the playlist lmao. I'll add to both lists whenever I have an Idea or listen to a song that fits.

[waywardodysseys]

Campo di Battaglia - Chapter 7

violazione

Pairing: Mob!Ransom Drysdale x reader

Warnings: sex dream, male masturbation, cussing, angst, hot & heavy action

Author’s note: I’m tagging people who might like this; my gratitude is overflowing for one of the best people in the world @zechs-merquise 

This is a Knives Out AU where the Thrombey family is in the mafia world.

Campo di Battaglia - Chps. 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

The fireplace crackles as Ransom pulls her into his arms. He’s glad they decided to stay in, instead of heading out. The weatherman predicted only five inches of snow and now it's closing in on ten.

“We’re going to have a white Christmas,” she remarks, as she rests her head against him, “it's going to be really beautiful.”

Ransom kisses her neck tenderly as he moves a hand down her side, “It’s not the only thing.”

She giggles. He thinks it’s the sweetest sound ever. “Hugh.”

Ransom moans at her saying his first name. “Only you can call me by that name.”

She hums as he moves his mouth down her shoulder. The sensation of his trimmed winter beard sends goosebumps across her flesh. She arches her back as he finds the sweet spot at the base of her neck again.

“Please,” she whispers, “I need you.”

“I want to take my time,” Ransom teases as he snakes a hand under her negligee.

“Hugh,” she lowly moans as his hand moves up and cups her breast, “please. I can't wait.”

Ransom moves his other hand under the sheer fabric and cups her other breast. His thumbs flick her nipples, causing her to moan once again. He knows she wants more.

She slips from his arms and turns to face him. Her mouth crashes against his as her hands travel over his shirtless chest and pushes him slowly back against the faux fur rug in front of the fireplace.

Y/N straddles his body then pulls away to look down at him. 

He smiles up at her. He loves it when she takes control. He keeps his blue eyes on her as she yanks her negligee off. His hands roam over her warm flesh and cup her breasts. Ransom sits up and flicks his tongue over one nipple then the other.

She grinds against him as her hands fly to his head. Her fingers moving through his hair. “Hugh,” she purrs.

���Y/N, my queen, my everything,” Ransom punctuates each name with a kiss down the valley between her breasts before he reaches up to cup her face, bringing her mouth down to his. He kisses her deeply then pulls away breathlessly.

She looks down into his ocean blue eyes and smiles. Ransom sees the love in her eyes she has for him. They’ve come so far from the first day he walked into her bookshop months ago.

She roams a hand over his chest and palms his hard cock over his jeans. She grins as she pushes Ransom back down and nips at his neck. “I want what is mine.”

“Take me, I’m all yours,” Ransom growls as she begins to leave a trail of kisses down his chest and stomach. He feels her hands undoing his pants, feels one hand reaching in and grabs his hard cock. 

She kneels between his open legs as she pushes his jeans down over his hips, exposing his cock. Within seconds her mouth is engulfing his cock and her tongue is swirling around the tip.           

Ransom sucks in a breath as his hands card themselves through her hair. Her mouth is soft and warm around his cock but he can't wait to be buried deep within her slick walls as she rides him.

“Y/N,” Ransom pants as his orgasm simmers within him, “mmm--yes--”

She moves her head up and down his cock, lathering him with her saliva. She swirls her tongue around the tip, teasing him and tasting his juices. She feels his fingers tighten against her scalp as his orgasm rises rapidly.

“Ride me Y/N,” Ransom pants as he gently grinds against your mouth, “I need to be inside you. Now.”

Ransom sees her give a devilish grin as she releases his cock from her mouth. She crawls up his body and straddles him, reaching back towards his cock. Ransom keeps his eyes on his hardened cock as she sinks slowly onto it.

“Fuck, yes!” Ransom hisses as he feels her slick walls around him.

He places his hands on her hips as she begins riding him slowly. Her hands splayed on his chest, her fingers finding refuge by digging into his skin. Ransom takes her all in as he thrusts up to meet the rolling of her hips.

“Oh--Hugh,” she gasps as her fingernails dig in deeper.

Ransom doesn’t mind her marks in his skin. He belongs to her, no other woman. This woman with her tilted head to the side and arched back, her teeth biting at her bottom lip. This beautiful woman riding him is his, and his alone.

“Come for me my queen,” Ransom growls as his own hands grasp her hips tightly as he thrusts more roughly up into her, “come for me.”

Ransom feels her slick walls vibrating around his cock. At the sensation of feeling her climax against him, Ransom moans loudly, “Y/N!” He thrusts up once more, making sure he’s buried deep as he empties himself inside of her.

Seconds after coming down from the high, she falls on top of Ransom’s chest. Ransom wraps his arms around her, holding her tight against him. He doesn't want to let go, never will let go.

He skims a finger down her spine as he whispers, “Marry me?”

Ransom wakes with a startled gasp. His cock’s already hard and the ache building inside of him needs to be released. He’s enthralled by her, utterly consumed by everything she is. He had his first taste of her tonight and he couldn't get enough. He wanted more; he needed more.

Marry me. The phrase lingers in his mind as he lies back against the headboard. He never thought marriage was possible for him. Due to the trainwreck that was his parents' marriage he was forced to grow up in, it was always something that seemed unreachable to him but with her it could be . With her by his side, he could take on anything - the world, his family, her father. She would be his ally, his only ally within this god forsaken kingdom. And in return, he would be her ally. Fair is fair in the game of love. 

Ransom reaches under the sheet and begins to stroke his aching cock as he remembers her pillowy soft lips against his. How they parted for him so he could explore more. He remembers one of her hands traveling up his arm and the other on his side. He had felt her fingers grasping onto him, it felt like she didn't want to let go either.

He thinks about her sleeping in his bed, inside his house. He thinks, is she able to smell me on my sheets? Does it turn her on? Would she be touching herself in my bed? Or maybe, she touches herself in the shower?

He had professed his love for her and he hadn't even been with her in the most intimate way two people could be together. He was ready to lay his life down and risk it all for her, but he felt she wasn't ready to do the same. He knew he had a long road ahead of him to prove himself to her. He had to find out who did this to her because if he didn’t, he knew he would lose her, and that could never happen. 

Ransom grunts loudly as he climaxes, ropes of hot liquid cover his hand and belly. The high from the orgasm keeps his body on fire as he thinks about her riding him, her fingernails digging into his skin, marking him. She is the only woman for him. 

“Y/N,” Ransom moans as he closes his eyes and lets sleep pull him under.

-------

Nora pours herself a cup of coffee as she hears Harry walk into the kitchen. She could tell something was amiss last night when Harry came back to the house alone. He had looked pissed off and mumbled his response of ‘with that no good son of a bitch’ when she had asked him where Y/N was. Nora knew not to press any further when Harry was angry, so she dropped the subject.

When she watched Y/N walk in the door with Nico two hours later, and Nora had seen the distraught look and slight redness in her eyes, her suspicions were confirmed. She had wanted to press about the events of the evening but didn’t ask when you had only whispered, “I’m going to bed.”

Nora’s mind raced with worry and questions. She knew they had gone to Thrombey Manor to have dinner with Ransom. Nora knew the night wasn’t going to go well. Placing Ransom Drysdale, mob boss, in a room with Harry Y/L/N, FBI agent, was a horrible idea and gauging from both Harry and Y/N’s moods when they returned, the night did not go as planned.

Judging by the sour look donning Harry’s features as he enters the kitchen, it seems sleep did not come easy, if at all, for the angry father last night. Nora isn’t exactly sure how this early morning conversation is going to go but she decides to go for it. “Good morning, Harry,” Nora utters as she takes a sip of the hot caffeinated liquid she uses as fuel. 

“Morning Nora,” Harry’s voice is curt and clipped with anger. He pours himself a cup of coffee as well and takes a sip.

“Still leaving today?” She gently inquires, trying not to sound as if she is prying.

“I am,” Harry rests against the kitchen island. He hasn’t talked much to Nora regarding Ransom Drysdale. Harry sneers at the thought of his name. “Nora?”

“Yes?” Nora hums, turning herself towards Harry, giving him her full attention.

“What’s your perception of Ransom Drysdale?”

Nora snorts adding a distasteful eye-roll before she answers, “I went to high school with him. He was your run-of-the-mill rich kid. Although he was more of a troublemaker and a douchebag. The smart ones in school knew to avoid him. The others, though, well they just fell right in, went along with his lifestyle and all the trouble that came with it.”

“Guessing you didn’t run with his crowd?”

Nora shakes her head, “I did not.”

“And now, what's your impression?”

“I still think he's trouble because of his lifestyle but,” Nora pauses, “ever since Y/N walked into his life I can tell he’s changed. Well, trying to change for the better.” Nora glances over at Harry, “Did she tell you he sent bouquets of flowers to her shop for three weeks? Every day the shop was open, a bouquet of flowers was delivered to her.”

Harry shakes his head, takes a sip. “She did not.”

Nora smiles, “I think there’s some good in him, and with her in his life, he’s trying his damnedest to be a good man. He showed up at the hospital the night of the fire. I saw the concern on his face, heard the worry in his voice,” she walks over to Harry, “he even admitted he cared for her. When he said he did, I didn’t want to believe him, but I heard the genuine sincerity in his voice when he said he cared for her and she’s the only person he truly cares for.”

“And what do you think of all this protection?” Harry gestures around, referring to the house and the men outside guarding the place.

Nora shrugs, “To the average person, like me, it seems a little too much but he wants to protect her. I honestly think he’d scorch the very earth we stand on if something ever happened to her. I also think he’d die for her if it meant she was alive and happy, and safe.”

“She’s lucky to have you as her best friend,” Harry remarks.

Nora smiles, “And she’s lucky to have you as her father.” Nora reaches out and pats the top of Harry’s hand when she sees you walking towards the kitchen, “it was good to see you again. Don’t be a stranger,” Nora walks away from Harry and towards her room.

Harry smiles weakly, “Good to see you too.” Harry turns around and lets his tired eyes sweep over you. He had a restless night, barely any sleep had come because his mind was racked with his daughter and the mob boss. He had thought of ways to force you to come out to Vegas, return home and live in the same city as Rose and him. You’d even be in the same time zone as your step brothers.

You walk into the kitchen and glance at your father. “Restless night?”

“I want you to come home!” Harry grounds out.

“I’m staying dad,” you retort as you pour a cup of coffee.

“Tell me, why do you want to stay?” Harry questions as he gives you a once over. You’re his baby girl. He doesn’t want to lose you, doesn’t want the next call he receives to be one informing him you are missing, or worse, dead.

“Why do you need a reason?” You inquire as you take a sip of coffee. “I’m a grown woman, capable of making my own decisions.”

Harry leans back against the counter, “You want to stay because of him, don’t you?” Harry presses on when you don’t answer, “If he wasn’t involved in any way, shape, or form, when all this happened, I bet you’d be on the plane with me, heading back to Vegas.”

“Maybe you are right, dad. However, that's not how this situation has worked out. This is my home now and I won't let someone scare me into leaving. Besides I am needed here, I have people I need to look out for and take care of.” You rest your forearms on the cold countertop. It is a welcome relief to your skin that has become heated due to the frustration this conversation with your father is causing.

“That is a load of bullshit, Y/N! You want to stay because of him. He is nothing but a monster, sweetie. You need to see him the way everyone else does.”

You push up from the counter, something in you snapped when your father called Ransom a monster, “Ransom is human dad! Is he perfect? Absolutely not. But what you fail to see is, he is trying to be a better person, for me. He admires you for taking a stand against him for my sake! He acknowledges I am your daughter and you want me safe! He has never laid a hand on me! He’s defended my honor, and has killed a man because that specific man touched me without my consent! He may be ruthless and an asshole, but when it comes to me he’s willing to do whatever it takes to make sure I am safe. Ransom is willing to show me he has a heart and cares.” You argue in return.

Harry averts his gaze, purses his lips. “He killed someone?”

“Yes,” you respond sharply. “You know what he does, who he is. You know he can do what he pleases and get away with it.”

Harry knows, without a doubt, Ransom has killed people in cold blood. All mob bosses pull the trigger without hesitation. He’d been on several cases back in Vegas involving the mafia and found the dead bodies piled up. He’s seen firsthand watching the mob boss pull the trigger as well. And here is his daughter, getting involved with a mob boss. “I knew I should’ve never let you come out here!” Harry yells, slamming his fist on the counter causing some of the coffee in his cup to spill out onto the countertop. Seeing the mess, he pinches the bridge of his nose before he then remarks, “What happens when the rest of his family finds out about what I do? You won’t be safe then.”

“He told you last night, he’d rather turn them all in, in order to protect me and to keep me safe.” You shake your head, realizing this conversation is going to only get worse.

Harry motions a circle with his hand. “It could just as easily get out to other mafia families I am law enforcement! Mafia families will not accept you because of your father’s profession Y/N! They will hunt you down and kill you, and more than likely kill Ransom too because he was involved with a federal agent’s daughter. They will make it known to everyone he can never be trusted again!” Harry points at you, “Which could lead to the two of you going into witness protection!”

“So?” You shout at him, “At least I’d have him!” Wait a second, back up. Are you admitting you care for Ransom? You two would spend the rest of your days in some back wood town with new identities and never see your family again. Never see Nora again. You’d have each other and it seems, that’s all that mattered to you.

You picture the scenario in your head: Ransom with a full grown beard coming home in a suit, him finding you in the kitchen cooking dinner, a scruffy yet fluffy dog perched on a dog bed. You and Ransom going at it like teenagers every chance you get because you can’t get enough of one another. Simple wedding bands on both his and yours fourth left fingers. Maybe the pitter patter of little feet because you two want to pass on the love you have for one another to a child. Secretive visits from Nora and your family, even though it was forbidden to do so, but you knew your father would find a way to see you and make sure Nora could see you too.

Harry glances at you after minutes of silence, “So there is something between you and Ransom? Because last night it seemed one sided, and it was all coming from him.”

You still didn’t know how you felt about him yet you had just pictured being with him because you did grow to love him. There was no one else trying to break through your scenario, no one else you wanted to be with for the rest of your life. No one else you wanted to come home to at the end of the day and wrap you in their arms then make love while dinner’s burning on the stove. No one except Ransom.

“Y/N?” Harry inquires softly.

“I,” you begin. You wait several beats before continuing, “I don’t know how I feel about him. I just know if I leave now, I will regret it for the rest of my life.”

“And that’s why you want to stay?”

You nod your head, “Yes.” You look away and then back at your dad, “Ransom even suggested I go back home, and I told him I couldn’t. I didn’t admit to him I don’t know how I feel. I just,” you stutter, “I just, I can’t be states away knowing he’s here alone trying to figure out what happened. I need to be here, I want to be here.”

Love knows no bounds, Harry thinks as he walks over and embraces you. “If that’s what you want then so be it.” He pulls back and cups your cheek, “But I need you to know, if I get another call and your well-being is in danger, I will not hold back. He will end up in the hospital from the pain and wrath I will bring upon him. Understood?”

You smile weakly, “Yes dad. I understand.”

Harry places a kiss on your forehead, “And I swear to God, if that boy breaks your heart I will make sure he is six feet under.”

“Dad!”

“You’re still my daughter sweetie. He still needs to prove himself worthy of you. To me, and to you as well. Don’t give into him so quickly, know what you feel before you take the leap and commit yourself as being Ransom’s other half.” Harry looks at you and smiles. He sees your mother in your features. Harry wonders what you’d think of her past, but this isn’t the time to divulge that particular information.

“I am taking my time dad. He’s been sending flowers for the past three weeks and I haven't given in.” Your feelings hadn’t (though they were on the verge of it), but your body sure had.

“Good. Make him earn you. Make him see you are worth more than anything else in this world.” Harry remarks, “Now let me finish packing, and you and your personal bodyguard may escort me to the airport.”

-------

A couple days later, you find yourself in the middle of a baking spree. Unfortunately when your anxiety tended to run off the rails, baking was your only comfort but fortunately for Nico, your willing guinea pig, he always had a sweet tooth. You had to do something to occupy yourself, you can't sit and stare at four walls endlessly.  You are in the kitchen, pulling out different ingredients while Nico sits at the island bartop with his self-made scorecard on a notepad in front of him. He’s made a list of everything you’ve made within the last twenty-four hours which featured two columns, one with a thumbs up and the other with a thumbs down.

“You’ve made six sweet treats so far Y/N,” Nico remarks. “What’s going to be lucky number seven?”

“I don’t know,” you huff as you look through a recipe book. “Is there something you want to try? Like you’ve always wondered about a particular sweet but never had it?”

Nico laughs. “Um, let me think,” his eyes glance down at the scorecard, “we’ve done chocolate chip cookies, Mississippi mud cake, caramel apple cupcakes, cinnamon twirl cookies, layered turtle cheesecake, and Hummingbird cake.” Nico thinks for a minute, “I haven't had pecan meltaways in years. My grandmother used to make them all the time for Christmas then she passed away. I’d love to have those again.”

You smile at Nico, “I’m sure I can find a recipe.”

You begin flipping through the cookbook, something you had brought with you from your apartment. It had family recipes from your grandmother, even some from your mom. You knew you’d have tons of free time therefore willing yourself to cook more.

You try not to think of what’s going on currently - the burned down bookstore, talking with the insurance company about a payout. The store had been fully paid off within three years of opening it, thanks to Harlan he had gifted the bookstore to you in your name for your birthday one year.

Harlan had slid over an envelope to you, one night at Thrombey Manor. One of the rare occasions you had been in the house outside of your weekly afternoon visits.

“What is this?”

“Open it. See for yourself.” Harlan had responded.

You had taken the envelope and opened it. You gasped when you saw what he had done. “Harlan, this,” you had stammered, “you didn't have to do this.”

Harlan had shrugged, taken a sip of wine. “You’re like a daughter to me Y/N. I wanted to give you your dream. It fully belongs to you. Only you. Not the bank and you. Just you.”

You had felt the tears escape, “This is amazing. Thank you.”

Harlan had grinned, “You’re welcome.”

You now think about fire chief Kinzel telling you the fire was arson. Which meant it was intentionally set and someone was trying to send a message but you had no idea who. You were still having trouble remembering the details of the event. Everything was still fuzzy.

“You find anything?” Nico inquires, bringing your focus back to finding a recipe.

You smile, “I did. Looks like my grandmother made them too.” You set the book down and begin gathering up the supplies you need to start making the covered powdered sugar treats.

*

Ransom parks his Beamer outside of his personal house. He nods towards the men who are standing guard outside as he walks into the front door. Once inside he hears laughter coming from the kitchen. He makes his way towards the sound and his eyes land on you and Nico rolling cookie dough.

Ransom shrugs off his jacket and smiles, “May I join in on the fun?”

You and Nico look up. You smile widely, “As long as you don't mind getting flour on your clothes.”

Ransom rolls up his sleeves, “I don't mind at all.”

Nico takes this opportunity to excuse himself to check the perimeter and check in with the guards outside.  He knows Ransom would prefer to do the baking with you, and you alone. 

You and Ransom roll the dough into one inch balls and place them on a cookie sheet. Ransom places the tray in the oven then proceeds to help you roll more cookie dough into balls and place them on another cookie sheet.

“How have you been?” Ransom questions as he finishes placing a rolled up cookie dough ball on the cookie sheet.

“Good,” you reply nonchalantly as you begin placing dirty dishes into the sink.

Ransom walks up behind you and wraps his arms around you. “Talk to me, Y/N.”

You turn around in his arms and look into his ocean blue eyes, “Fire chief Kinzel says the bookshop was officially ruled as arson. I don’t understand any of this Ransom. I mean, someone intentionally tried to kill me!” You feel the tears threatening to spill out of your eyes which causes you to pause, “And everything is still fuzzy. It’s almost as if someone drugged me beforehand to make sure I died in that fire.”

Ransom moves his arms and cups your cheeks, “Hey, you are alive. You are safe. You are with me,” his thumbs wipe away at your tears which finally spilled over, “I said nothing will happen to you under my protection. I promise nothing will happen to you.”

“But what if they are after you?” You sniffle as tears keep flowing out, “I, uh, I…” can’t lose you. You don't have the courage to say those words aloud yet you feel them down in your gut.

“I am right here Y/N,” Ransom brushes his mouth against yours, “okay? I am right here. If someone is after me, then I will take care of it. Don’t worry because as long as you are in my life I promise you, you will not lose me and I will come home to you. You will never have to receive the devastating news about my death.”

You nod your head as you wrap your arms around Ransom and burrow yourself into him. You feel Ransom move his fingers through your hair then feel his hand move down your back. You soak him in as the kitchen begins to smell of pecans and cookies.

*

“You’ll meet with me?” Ransom inquires into his phone as he paces the master bedroom. His eyes roaming over the made bed. His mind begins to wonder about your body under his sheets.

On the other end of the phone Luca Ferretti smiles, “Of course I’ll meet with you Ransom. Come down to New York. I can throw you a dinner or a party, better yet a dinner party. Congratulating you on becoming boss of the Thrombey family.”

Ransom smirks. “I don't need anything fancy Luca.”

“What?” Luca questions. “No drugs, no girls?”

Ransom was done with all that. “None of it Luca. Promise me.”

Luca sighs, “You must tell me who she is Ransom. Because the Ransom Drysdale I know never turns down the chance to party when he comes down here.”

She’s the woman I love, the woman I need to keep safe. The woman I want beside me. The woman I will do anything for. Ransom smiles, “I’ll see you tomorrow Luca.”

“See you then. Addio Ransom.” Luca remarks before disconnecting the call. 

Ransom slides his phone into his pocket, walks over to the bed and sits down. He reaches down with a hand touching the bedding. He hardens as his mind wonders to the sex dream he had nights ago. He smiles as he recalls you being in his dreams the past two nights as well.

He needs you, wants you. He knows he’ll never have his fill of you. “Fuck,” Ransom hisses under his breath.

“Everything okay?” You inquire as you stand on the threshold and cross your arms.

Ransom shuffles on the bed. He doesn't want you to see he’s hard and ready to pounce on you. He wants to take you when you are ready to have him. “Everything is fine.”

You raise a brow but don't ask him what’s on his mind, instead you ask, “May I ask for a favor?”

Ransom laughs, “Anything.”

“Nora and I are meeting Marta for lunch. We want Fran to come as well.” You remark as you uncross your arms and walk into the bedroom. “It’s been a while since the four of us have gotten together.”

“Out of everything you could ask of me, you want me to release Fran for a day?”

“Yes,” you respond as you walk over to the bed. You place a finger under Ransom’s chin, “Do I need to persuade you?”

“Persuade me how?” He questions with a raised brow and a tease in his voice.

You straddle his lap, feel his hardness which causes you to raise a brow in return. You remain silent as you run a hand up over his stomach and chest. The fabric of the cable-knit sweater he’s wearing is soft. “Well, we haven’t-”

Ransom stops you by pressing his mouth against yours. He pulls you up against him. Minutes later he pulls faintly back and looks at you. “You can have whatever you want Y/N.” He cups your cheek then glides his thumb over your lips, “But our first time is not going to be the result from a game of persuasion.” Because I want it to be special.

You gently push his hand away from your face while easing him back against the mattress. You crush your mouth against his as you grind against him. You feel his hands on your hips. At first they are light then you feel them dig into you. In a flash of a second, he rolls you onto your back and you are looking up into his piercing blue eyes. “Ransom,” you murmur as you lean up and press your lips against his neck.

Ransom closes his eyes. Here you are eager and ready for him but he wants to be a gentleman and take you out for dinner and dancing before he devours you. He feels if he takes you now, he’ll lose all control and ravish you savagely like a starving beast. “Y/N,” Ransom whispers as he cups your cheek, pulling you away from his neck. He looks into your eyes as he runs a finger down your cheek then across your jaw, “I have to go down to New York City, for a business meeting. I should only be gone a couple of days.”

Your eyes turn into slits as you look at him and ground out, “Way to change the subject, Hugh.” You were becoming sexually frustrated; you are sexually frustrated! You haven’t had sex in months. “Do you not want me?” Suddenly your voice is small as you try to hide your desperation to feel him inside of you.

Ransom frowns slightly and nods his head, “Of course, I do.” 

You slide your hand down over the fabric of his sweater. Your fingers fumble with the hem, raising it slightly. You then trace your fingers along the waistband of his pants. “Then please Ransom,” you plead through hooded eyes as you look into his blue eyes, “let me feel you.”

He presses his mouth against yours then dips down and presses his mouth against the pulse point of your neck. “You have no idea how badly I want you, need you. I am ravenous for you, and if I were to take you now, I wouldn't hold back.” Ransom cups your cheek, returns his gaze back to your face, “When I return I will take you somewhere special.”

You open your eyes wide and raise a brow, wondering what he meant by not holding himself back. You then smile and place your hand on top of his. “Somewhere special, huh?” You were trying to quell your aching libido and be respectful of Ransom’s decision but it was a hard fought battle. You needed him to touch, feel, and kiss you on other places of your body. 

“I want to wine and dine you. Show you an evening of magic, make it unforgettable.”

You have to admit this is a pleasant outcome, not one you expected but are happy with. Despite being absolutely desperate and ravenous for him, you are pleased he is trying to earn his way into your bed, “Fine but I have one request.” 

Ransom smirks. “Name it.”

You loop your arms around his neck, pulling him back down. Your lips are millimeters from his. “I want you in that three piece charcoal suit again.”

“Your wish is my command.” Ransom’s eyes shine as he smiles at you.

You smile brightly, “Good. I will have you when you return.” You skim your fingers along his flesh above the waistband of pants. You travel them around to his back. His skin is warm and taut against your fingers. You teasingly glide your lips over his then pull gently on his bottom lip with your teeth. You release his lip before softly informing him, “All of you, Ransom Drysdale.”

Fuck me, Ransom thinks at your teasing. He cups your cheek, strokes your skin with his thumb, “You will have me, my queen. You will always have me. I am yours. Only yours Y/N. You have my heart, and soon enough, you will have me to your heart’s content, your body’s content. Anything you want from me, want to do to me. You can keep me under lock and key because there’s no one else in my life I will ever want, or ever need. You’re the air I need to breathe, you’re the water I need to survive. I know with you, I will have it all.”

Ransom Drysdale. Soft. How could this man be open and forthcoming with you? The mob boss and killer. And apparently he’s all yours. You feel him wipe at an escaping tear, “Make sure you come back to me Ransom. That’s all I ask. Please.”

Ransom smiles, presses his forehead against yours, “I’m taking a few of my men. I will make it back to you,” Ransom brushes his mouth against yours, “I promise.”

As Ransom pulls away, you pull his head back down and capture his mouth, kissing him deeply. You kiss him with passion, part of you knowing he will make it back to you, the other part fearful this could be the last time your eyes see him.

Minutes later the two of you break apart. Both of you breathless. 

Ransom removes himself from the bed. “I’ll be back before you know it. Like I was never gone in the first place,” Ransom utters as he pulls you forward and off the bed. He reaches over and runs a thumb over your swollen lips. “I love you.”

You still don't know how you feel towards him. You’re at a loss of words but you manage to murmur, “Please come home to me Ransom.”

The word home doesn't escape Ransom’s ears as he takes one of your hands. He runs his thumb over the skin then kisses your wrist, “For you, I will.”

You watch as Ransom walks out the bedroom door. You hear him walk down the flight of stairs then hear the front door close. You walk over to the floor to ceiling windows and push aside the curtain, watching him walk towards his Beamer. A black SUV follows close behind him. Your heart racing as you fear for the worse yet hope for the best as well. You mentally begin counting down the minutes until you see him again. You were finally going to have Ransom Drysdale, a long awaited prize you desperately wanted to claim.

-------

That evening, after Ransom had left, you and the ladies made the decision to unwind by heading downtown to visit one of the many clubs the city has to offer. Fran, Marta, and Nora suggest Elysium. You agree to the suggestion, plastering on a fake excited smile but your heart pounds, recalling the last time you had gone there with Ransom. 

The memory flashes in your mind of the asshole that wouldn't take no for an answer. He had bought you a drink and while you had taken the drink out of kindness, your mouth never touched the glass, fearful for what could be in it. You had been kind but then he started touching you which made you feel uncomfortable then he had grasp your arm tightly and began dragging you off and that’s when your knight in shining armor had arrived.

Nico pulls the SUV up to the valet area of the club. You can hear the vibration of the music bouncing off the walls from inside the vehicle. The only thoughts in your head as you exit the car are of Ransom. Nico stands close, acting as a shield. “You okay?” Nico inquires with a soft voice. He knows what happened here and it makes him much more protective of you. He takes a moment to pull you to the side as Mikhail helps the other ladies out of the SUV, “Are you sure you want to be here?” He asks with concern in his eyes. He was trying to spare you of the unpleasant memories from weeks ago.

You slide your eyes over to Nico then back towards the tall overweight bouncer who lets the six of you walk right in, instead of waiting in line like the rest of the people standing by to get in. “I’m fine, I’ve got you to watch over me. Thanks for asking.” You offer him a reassuring smile. It was the truth, you did feel much safer knowing Nico was going to be by your side all night. 

Nico raises a brow yet remains silent, he’s not totally convinced but he follows behind you just the same. You’ve become like a sister to him over the last month. He doesn't like seeing you sad or angry. He wants to make sure you are happy and safe, no matter where you are whether it’s with your girlfriends, or with the boss.

Nico clears his throat, “If you wanna leave,” he touches your arm making sure only you can hear him, “let me know. I will drive you straight back to Ransom’s.”

You greatly appreciate the fact Nico is trying to give you an out, “Thank you Nico. I will keep that in mind. For now let’s just enjoy the evening.”

Mikhail approaches the two of you, “Let’s get the ladies upstairs to the VIP area.”

“We aren't VIPs Mikhail,” you announce, eyebrows raised.

Mikhail shrugs, “You are now. You’re with the boss now, ma’am. I informed the boss earlier of your evening plans and he called ahead to set up a table for you and your friends. He wanted to make sure you had a nice night out.” Mikhail looks you over, “He made sure to emphasize to me, we keep an eye on you at all times, or else.”

You look between Mikhail and Nico, “Or else, what?” You had an inkling what the answer was going to be.

“I certainly don’t intend to find out, miss Y/N.” Mikhail chuckles which breaks the tension of the prospect of Ransom’s threats.

Nora slides up to your side, wrapping her arms around you, “Come on gorgeous. Let’s go to the dance floor. I need you as my wingwoman, for I intend to get lucky tonight.”

“We have a table in the VIP section,” you mention as she begins pulling you away from Mikhail and Nico.

Nora looks at the men, “The table will still be there when we are done dancing, right boys?” Mikhail and Nico nod curtly. “Good,” Nora laughs then she tugs on you, “come on! Have some fun!”

*

Julian sits in his office, watching the security cameras. His eyes moving from one screen to the next. His adrenaline spikes the moment he spots her. Ransom’s girl. Julian can’t help but moan aloud when he sees her walking into the club. He notices she’s with three other ladies and two of Ransom’s men. Julian smirks as he recalls Ransom informing him he was going to be out of town for a couple of days.

“Business down in New York City,” Ransom had remarked, “I’m sure you can handle things.”

Julian had grinned, “no worries Ransom. You have the family business to run. I most definitely can handle Elysium while you are away.” 

Julian’s pants tighten, his eyes are memorizing her shape on the screen; every curve of her body is committed to memory. It’s been months since their encounter in the bookstore and here she is, without Ransom. It’s like the gods above are purposefully dangling her in front of him, like he's a starved lion and she is a delicious meal waiting to be eaten. And oh how he would eat her. His cock is throbbing in his pants. It’s screaming at him to be released. Julian knows full well he can't go parading around the club with a hard-on.

“Fuck,” Julian groans out as his fingers urgently get his pants undone. He pushes them down his hips, giving him enough room to take out his cock which he begins stroking as his eyes remain on her while his mind thinks of those plush lips sucking him off.

“Oh, fuck yes,” Julian gasps. He closes his eyes, remembering her name. “Y/N.” The nametag she wore that day accented her chest perfectly, his memory recalled with perfect clarity. He loved the way her name rolled off his tongue. He even repeated her name while telling her goodbye because he wanted to hear her name on his lips one more time. “Y/N,” he moans loudly as his orgasm rises.

He’s picturing her straddling him in the chair he’s sitting in. She’s lifting her dress up as she sinks slowly onto his cock then begins riding him slowly. Julian can only speculate how tight she is but it's enough to feed his fantasy. He imagines she would want to take her time and relish in the feeling of his cock but because he feels so good inside her she quickens as her own orgasm builds.

Julian’s orgasm crashes within him as he strokes himself rapidly. His labored breath fills the quiet room as ropes of hot liquid squirt out from the end of his cock. I have to have her. I need to have her. I want her!

Julian hurriedly cleans himself up and makes himself presentable the moment he sees the group head to the VIP section. This gave him the perfect opportunity to mingle and get his hands on her. He heads out of his office and into the VIP section of the club. He drinks in the vision of her as he draws closer to the table. She will be mine. Fuck Ransom Drysdale.

*

You giggle as you take a sip of the drink you ordered. You knew the bartender wasn’t going to spike your drink with any poison since it was implied by your new VIP status you were with Ransom Drysdale.

You freeze. Did you just imply you and Ransom were an actual couple? You were still getting used to the notion. You had told him you were going to take a chance on him. You wanted to take that chance, you wanted to be with him. You had even told him before he left you wanted to be with him intimately and he didn't tell you no. He had informed you he wanted you the same way but with dinner involved. You smile to yourself, Ransom Drysdale wanted to feed you properly then devour you for dessert.

You inwardly moan as you take a sip of the alcohol. Damn him for leaving you hot and bothered. Now you couldn't wait until he returned.

“Ladies,” a smooth deep voice announces, “good evening. Welcome to Elysium.”

All of you stop laughing and talking to look at the man who walked up to the table. You raise a brow as you recognize him from a few months ago at the bookstore. His brown hair is slightly longer and light brown fuzz covers the bottom half of his face. You slide your eyes at the other ladies, notice Marta and Fran give each other a quick look then back at the gentleman.

He looks directly at you and smiles, not only with his lips but his blue eyes. He even makes a move to sit down next to you. Nico immediately moves forward, his hand grips Julian’s shoulder tightly, “You need to leave.” The man looks at Nico and waves the bodyguard off, “You should know I mean no harm.” He then looks at you, “We’ve met before. I’m Julian Grey. I’d like to thank you for your book recommendation.”

You smile politely, “You’re welcome.” 

“Are you enjoying yourself?” He motions to the other ladies, “Enjoying a nice girls night out?”

“You could say that,” Fran responds dryly. Marta is quick to elbow her friend. “What?” She hisses out as she looks at Marta who just shakes her head.

Julian leans back against the booth. He waits several seconds before shifting his body so his front is against your side. He rests on one hand on your leg, while the other hand moves some hair away from your neck. He leans in and inhales your perfume, “I’d like to return the favor for your excellent recommendation.”

His closeness is sending goosebumps across your skin, and not the good kind. You push his hand off your leg and pull away under the guise of grabbing your drink. “I’m with someone.” Promptly informing him before you take a sip of your drink to settle your nerves.

Julian gives a frown as he makes a show of looking around the room, “I don't see him here with you. He shouldn't have let you out when there’s plenty of men who will snatch you up in a heartbeat.”

You feel bile and alcohol mixing in your stomach as it threatens to come up your throat. You shoot a pleading look over to Nico who is quick to intervene again, “I think it’s time you go, Grey.”

Julian looks and smiles at Nico, “Leave us alone.” He turns his attention back to you when he runs a finger along your jaw, “Maybe we should take this elsewhere?” 

You swat his hand away from your face and Nico’s gun is pulled from his holster. He doesn’t give a shit if Julian is Ransom’s business partner. He is making you uncomfortable and was warned plenty of times to back off. Nico discreetly puts the muzzle of his gun against the back of Julian’s head. “Hands off the lady,” he growls into Julian’s ear.

“Mister Grey?” A small feminine voice interrupts from the front of the table breaking the extremely tense situation.

Julian huffs angrily, “What is it?”

“I’m sorry, but you’re needed at the bar downstairs.” The woman responds not noticing what was just happening moments before.

Julian glances back towards Nico who pulls the gun away from his head. He stands and straightens his clothes before he disappears from the table. All eyes on him as he walks down the stairs towards the first floor of the club.

After several beats, Nora is at your side, rubbing your arms trying to comfort you, “Well that was interesting.” She breaks the silence trying to ease the left over tension.

“Julian Grey is an absolute sleazeball. I heard he treats women like his own personal property,” Fran adds. “Don't think about him. Just, ugh, no.” Fran shivers, feeling chills. She quickly takes a drink, trying to warm herself back up, then she looks at Nico, “I think we should make a toast to the real hero here: Nico. Cheers to our brave defender.” Fran raises her glass causing the other girls to happily join in the toast, “TO NICO!” They shout. Nico remains stoic but the intense shade of pink on his face betrays him.

Nora quickly side eyes you after the toast, “Can we circle back for a moment to your previous comment, you’re ‘with someone’? Are you and Ransom official?”

Marta and Fran lean forward quizzically, both wondering what Ransom is to you as well.

You sigh heavily as you rub your temples. “I, uh, I don't know. Okay?”  Did you really want to announce something to your friends that wasn't exactly official? The words boyfriend and girlfriend haven't been thrown out in any conversation. Just that you were his and you were going to take a chance on him. You recall him declaring ‘I am yours’ the day prior thus informing you, Ransom is yours. All yours. But you were still trying to figure out your own feelings for him.

“Honey,” Nora begins as she sees the lost and frustrated look on your face, “I didn't mean to upset you. I was asking a question. You obviously feel something for him.”

You can’t help but let out a long heavy sigh. Your body slumps down into the chair dramatically, “I don’t know, you guys. There's something between us. What exactly it is, I have no idea. I am still trying to figure it out.” You pull yourself up and down the rest of your drink. Alcohol is acting as a truth serum now, your lips are getting looser, “Am I attracted to Ransom? Yes. Do I want to fuck him? Hell yes.”

The admission causes the girls to scream out and catcall you. “God be praised! She finally admits it!” Fran raises her hands to the sky. You are left laughing and shaking your head at your friend's reaction. “I’m sorry Y/N, but I’ve been rooting for the two of you to get together this whole time. Ever since you came into Ransom’s life, he has been in a better mood, been less of an asshole. It has made my life a whole lot easier.” Fran admits.

Something about her statement hit deep in your heart. While you knew what Ransom felt for you, you were unaware of the real life impact your relationship was having. To hear from an outside party your influence on Ransom and being in his life was changing him for the better, made something bloom in your soul.

Nora downed the rest of her drink, “I hate to admit it, but I agree with Fran. The way he acted when you were in the hospital and afterwards? That is not the guy I knew growing up. Who knew Ransom Drysdale could actually show genuine concern for another person aside from himself?”

You nod your head and shoot your friend a sly smile, “You make it sound as though you are beginning to accept him.”

Nora sighs and rolls her eyes, “Yeah, yeah, don’t read too much into it. He’s in your life and you told us both to get used to one another. So, here I am, trying to get used to him being in your life.”

“Thank you Nora,” you then look at the other ladies. Suddenly you feel tears in your eyes, “I’m sorry.” You quickly wipe them away with a wet chuckle. Your friends' words really touched you and made you feel more at ease in your decision to give Ransom a chance.

“No worries Y/N,” Marta responds as she gets up from her seat and gives you a hug, “we still love you.” Fran and Nora join in Marta’s hug. You let out a happy sound of awe because of the love your drunk friends are showing you.

The events of the evening have left you exhausted. All you were now wanting to do was go home and take a shower, crawl into bed, and call Ransom. After your confession, and your friends subsequent confessions, you were really missing Ransom. You needed to hear his voice. 

Your eyes search for Nico and he immediately knows you want to leave. You stand and look at the girls, “I’m going to go home. You ladies staying here?”

A beautiful woman sits down next to Nora. Nora’s eyes light up as she wraps her arm around the woman who joined them then winks at you, “I’m good.” Nora’s gaze is fixed on her new friend.

You smile and laugh at her then look at Fran and Marta. “And you two? I’ll see you at lunch tomorrow?”

Marta and Fran nod their heads and smile at you. “Yes.” They say in unison. 

As you leave, you stop in front of Mikhail, “Keep them safe please.” You know he will regardless but you feel the need to say it. Mikhail smiles and nods, “Absolutely.” His assurance makes you feel better knowing your friends are watched over and will be safely escorted home.

Nico comes to your side, “Let’s get you home, shall we?” He gestures towards the door. He follows closely behind you but at the same time he also keeps an eye out for Julian, making sure he doesn't try to follow you out of the club.

*

The ride back to Ransom’s house is quiet. You can't stand the silence anymore so you ask Nico a question. One you’ve been curious to ask but never had the opportunity to.

“Nico, has Ransom ever done anything like this before for anyone else?” You pause. “The security, the personal house.”

Nico tightens his hands on the steering wheel and clears his throat, “He has not. Ransom has never gone to the lengths he has to make sure you are safe, for another person.” Nico wasn't going to lie to you. “You’re the first person and the only woman he has ever wanted to protect. He wants to make sure you are safe and happy. As long as I’ve known him, you’re the only person he has shown this much personal attention to; you are someone he genuinely cares about.”

You hum in response. This evening has been emotionally overwhelming and the alcohol buzzing through your system was not helping with your mental well-being. You rest your head against the window. The coolness against your skin offers a small respite against your heated flesh. Nico glances up to the rearview mirror, sees you looking out the window. “Y/N, are you alright?” 

“Yeah…” your response was low but Nico still heard you, “I’ll be okay once you get me home.”

*

Julian hurriedly makes his way back up the stairs and towards the table where Y/N was sitting at. He doesn't see her so he scans the rest of the VIP section, even makes his way towards the railing and looks down at the throng of people moving to the music. He can’t spot her. She’s nowhere to be found.

“Fuck,” Julian hisses under his breath as he runs a hand through his hair. Goddamn it! She’s to be mine!

Minutes pass by before his eyes watch the ladies gather up their things and begin to walk towards him. He hears a couple of words thrown out, enough to make out they are going to be having lunch together tomorrow at Bostonia Public House.

Julian’s blood begins to hum. He ran all the scenarios in his head of how he could make Y/N his. Unfortunately each time, it ended with her out of his reach. If he can't have her, he might as well do Linda’s bidding. He pulls out his phone and dials the number to the man he’s hired. “Listen carefully. I know where she’s going to be. It’s time to do what you were hired to do. 

*

Nico listens to the shower start and pulls out his phone. He dials Ransom’s number as he makes his way downstairs.

“Nico. How did it go tonight? She okay?” Ransom asks. He tried to make her evening out with her friends as nice as possible while making sure she was safe.

“She’s fine, boss. We’re back home, but I need to tell you something.” Nico sighs, and looks up at the ceiling. He was not looking forward to this conversation.

“Out with it.” Ransom demands.

Nico rests against the kitchen island, “Julian took a shine to her at the club, he was hitting on her. He was touching her trying to feel her up.” Nico could hear Ransom growling but he continues, “I warned him, I told him to get his hands off her but he didn't listen. Y/N pushed him off, said she was with someone. Even after that, he put his hands on her trying to feel her up. I put my gun against the back of his head and warned him for the last time to get his hands off her, luckily for him though he got called away.”

Silence greets Nico’s ear. He has no idea what Ransom was thinking or planning. Nico had to let Ransom know what Julian had done. He had no idea if she was going to tell him about the encounter so Nico had to inform him of it. Nico knew the two men were friends and business partners, but he also knew Julian crossed the line in a big way tonight. “Boss?” Nico presses.

“Thank you Nico. I appreciate you telling me.” Ransom grounds out.

“Welcome.” Nico murmurs before he hears the noise of the call being disconnected. Fuck, Nico thinks as he hangs his head, hoping he didn’t make his boss a raving madman hellbent on revenge when he returned to Boston.

*

After showering and scrubbing your body clean three times, you pull on your oversized nightshirt and slip into bed. The sheets are cool against your skin as you reach over and find your phone. You notice a couple missed texts from Nora, Marta, and Fran. All of them telling you they were headed home and would see you at lunch tomorrow. You also notice the couple of missed calls from Ransom, the most recent one was five minutes ago.

You press his name and listen as the sound of the phone ringing begins.

“Hey you,” Ransom greets. His voice sounds like he's stressed but trying to hide it from you.

You hear the slight edge to his voice, “Ransom? Everything okay?”

“Now that I’m talking to you, yes. How was Elysium?”

“Fine, except some guy, named Julian? I think, was hitting on me. I told him I was with someone but he didn't listen. Nico had to step in, but then the guy got called away,” you sigh, “the whole experience left me kind of sour the rest of the night, but the girls cheered me up.”

“Are you okay?” His voice is soft yet filled with concern.

“Yeah, I’m okay…” You lie back on the bed, your limbs sprawled out. 

Sensing you wanted to change the subject, Ransom circles back to focus on your earlier statement. “So you’re with someone, huh?” He inquires with a tease to his voice. “Do I know the guy?”

You roll your eyes, and flip over to lay on your stomach, “Maybe. He’s very handsome, got some of the prettiest blue eyes I have ever seen. He can be stubborn sometimes but he's sweet and he means well. Oh! And he looks really good in a suit.” You bite your lip trying to hide your smile. 

On the other end of the line, Ransom is grinning like a fool. He feels like a high schooler head over heels for his first crush. He’s never ever felt this way before, it's an intoxicating feeling, “Sounds like a hell of a guy, what’s his name?” Ransom waits with bated breath for your answer.

“His name is Ransom Drysdale, do you know him?” You are enjoying this little game. It easily washes away the events from earlier. 

“In fact, I do.” Ransom chuckles, “but you know something, I heard that he’s already got a woman. She’s gorgeous, absolutely unbelievable and wicked smart. I mean, she’s gotta be in order to put up with him. And rumor has it, he’s hopelessly in love with her. So in love with her, in fact, he would rather be home with her than dealing with business matters out of state.” Ransom scrubs his hand down his face. He’s really happy at this moment and he doesn't think he’s ever been this happy.

You are blinking away tears, his words have you misty eyed, “Is that right?” You smother a wet laugh.

“Oh yeah.” He reassures. While you may not be able to see him, you can almost hear his smile.

“I miss you.” You admit because you did, you really did miss him. What you wouldn’t give to be in his arms right at this very moment.

“And I miss you too,” Ransom sighs lightly on the other end, “I should be home the day after tomorrow and when I am, I am going to put that charcoal suit on for you, take you out to a romantic dinner and then bring you back home and devour you.”

Your body floods with heat. You swallow since your throat feels dry. You couldn't wait to finally have him and lay your eyes upon his naked flesh, feel his lips moving over your skin, and him finally claiming you. Fuck, you think as you muse on the upcoming sex dreams that were surely coming your way tonight.

“Y/N?” Ransom questions with a whisper.

Should you tease him in return? This could quickly turn into phone sex but it wouldn't be as satisfying as the real thing. You clear your throat, “I can’t wait.” Truth is you really couldn’t but alas fate was cruel and waiting is what you had to do.

“I should let you get to sleep.” Ransom looks at the time on his phone and sees that it's late, “Sleep well, beautiful. I will be home before you know it.”

You weren't sure how to end the call so you opted for the simplest route, “Goodnight, handsome.” You hang up first, slightly out of fear of saying something you weren't quite ready to say out loud. You go to sleep, with a smile on your face, hopeful and excited for your future with Ransom. While darkness still looms overhead, you let yourself revel in a little bit of happiness for once in your life.

-------

The following day, you and Nora meet with Fran and Marta for lunch in downtown Boston at Bostonia Public House. The four of you are sitting at a table on the second floor of the two-story restaurant. The air is filled with its vibrant bar atmosphere and sociable sophistication; it makes for the start of a happy afternoon. Nearby, Nico was perched at the high-top bar with Mikhail by his side. The two bodyguards were engaged in light conversation but every so often stopped to do a quick visual sweep of the area.

“Where does Ransom find these guys?” Marta asks, as she eyes Nico and Mikhail. “Are all of them this good looking?” Nico suddenly makes eye contact with her gaze which causes her to quickly look away and grab her drink effectively hiding her blushing face from him.

All four of you laugh. Nora snorts and pipes out, “someone seems to be needy. Make yourself more obvious why don't you.” 

Marta flaps her hand at Nora and shushes her quickly, “Stop they’ll hear you! I don’t need that kind of attention.”

You cover your mouth with your hand trying to silence the giggles threatening to escape. You felt bad for Marta. You knew she didn’t have time for a private life in the last few years because she was always taking care of Harlan. These days however, were a different story. You take a sip of water before starting in, “You know, Marta, Nico’s a sweetheart. He reminds me of my stepbrothers - caring, protective, heart of gold. Mikhail’s a little more serious but still nice. If you let me know which one you fancy, I can put in a good word for you.” Your sly smile causes her to bury her face in her hands and muffle a frustrated shriek.

“Yeah, Marta, spill the tea. Who's got your panties in a twist?” Fran wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

You, Nora, and Fran all giggle while Marta blushes.

“Oh! You three hush!” Her voice is muffled as her head is still buried in her hands. You reach over and rub her back, feeling bad for teasing her so much. Marta lifts her head and sighs dramatically, “Nico. okay? Nico’s is the one I fancy. I mean, look at him-” She turns to stare at him dreamily, “He’s just so handsome.”

“She’s right.” Fran remarks. “Italian boys are notoriously good looking and it doesn't help they are all really good in the sack.”

“Fran!” You exclaim as your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline. 

Fran shrugs her shoulder in lieu of an apology, “What? I am just saying Marta never stood a chance! He’s an Italian stallion. He was designed to make women weak in the knees!” Fran makes a show of giving Nico a seductive looking over.

“Marta, I would like to formally apologize for our dear Fran’s mouth.” You grab her hand, bringing her attention to you.

“Do not apologize Y/N.” Marta states as she looks at you. “I knew what I was getting into when I became friends with her. However, if we can circle back to your offer of putting a good word for me with Nico, I would appreciate it.” She gives you a hopeful smile.

You lean over and give her a kiss on the cheek, “Anything for you. I want you to be happy. In fact, when Ransom gets back I will talk to him about maybe seeing if he can give Nico some free time so you two can go on a date. He told me last night he should be home tomorrow, so I will ask him then.”

Marta squeals with delight. The waiter came to the table delivering your food. After making sure everything was all right with your meals, he left, leaving the four of you to dig into your food.

Nora broke the momentary silence, “You said you talked to him last night?” She asks as she takes a sip of her drink. “Look, I know I asked you last night but-” Three pairs of eyes stare at you intently before Nora asks her question, “are you two a couple or what?”

“We are,” you pause for effect, “we are a couple. I am with him, and he is with me. We are together. We talked about it last night and, yeah.”

“I knew it!” Fran exclaims. “Like I said last night, he’s a changed man because of you.” She snorts, “For once in his life he finally has someone to care for, to care about.” Fran then smiles at you, “I’m so glad it’s you. ”

“I am happy for you Y/N,” Marta declares before taking a bite of her food, “he has always needed someone to keep him grounded. Harlan always did his best but sometimes it didn’t stick as much as he would have liked. Ransom always had his mother in his ear poisoning the good wisdom Harlan tried to instill in him.” Marta’s expression turned sour at the thought of Linda.

Nora nodded and agreed with Marta’s accurate description, “I believe that. I’ve only had rare interactions with Linda through the many years I’ve lived here, but she’s always been a conniving bitch. You don’t need to be a psychologist to see she’s got her claws deep in Ransom. I think she's one of the main reasons he did a lot of the shit he did when he was younger.” She took a bite of her food and swallowed it before continuing, “Although, I think as Ransom got older, he saw what his mother was trying to do and pulled away which gave him a fighting chance to be his own man which, in turn, has led to this positive change in his behavior since he met you, Y/N. All that aside, you do know if that douchebag breaks your heart we will be right there to take down his ass.” She motions to Marta and Fran.

“Yep.” “Yes.” Fran and Marta agree at once.

“Thank you ladies. I love all three of you so much.” You announce before taking another sip of water. 

After lunch is over, the four of you stand outside and hug one another goodbye. You and Nora watch Fran and Marta walk towards their car before you two turn around and are escorted towards the SUV you and Nora had ridden down to the restaurant by Nico in front of you and Mikhail behind you.

You take that moment to lean into Nora’s space, “Hey, so I have a favor to ask of you. When Ransom gets back, he said he plans on taking me to dinner. It’s going to be our first real date and he said he was going to take me somewhere special.”

Nora gives you that knowing look, “You don’t know what to wear, do you?”

You shake your head, “No, and knowing him it’ll be somewhere fancy, somewhere where we can be unbothered and alone.”

Nora hooks her arm through yours. “That actually works out in my favor because Amanda, the woman from last night, wants to go out and I need to find an outfit for my date too.”

You rest your head on Nora’s shoulder and smile, “That sounds great. We can tell Nico and Mikhail we want to go to the mall, or wherever.”

“Y/N--,” Nora begins before the sounds of gunshots ring out through the air. 

~   ~   ~

Translations:

campo di battaglia - battlefield

violazione - breach

addio - goodbye

[lochrannn]

Warnings: Sexual Content (M Rating)

Characters: Lila Pitts; Diego Hargreeves; Allison Hargreeves; Klaus Hargreeves; Hargreeves Siblings (background)

Relationship: Lila Pitts/Diego Hargreeves

Roommates AU; Fake Marriage; Slow Burn; Mutual Pining; Emotional H/C

Chapter 7/9

Leaving his apartment actually helps.

Diego’s not sure how long he’s been out but he thinks he spent at least thirty minutes at an all out run and he’s out of breath and his muscles are burning pleasingly, but he feels a lot more settled and about ready for sleep as he jogs back towards his bed.

He’s just passing a children’s playground when he spots a figure through the chain link fence sitting on one of the swings, gently swaying back and forth.

“Fuck!” he says out loud and then makes his way over.

“Oh hey!” says Lila with mild enthusiasm when she finally looks up at him as he’s just arriving right in front of her.

Diego’s heart is beating in his throat at the realization that she didn’t even notice him approaching and he could have been anybody. This may not be an incredibly dangerous neighborhood, but it is three in the morning, she’s a woman sitting all on her own in a dark and secluded playground, and he doesn’t actually need to be a detective to work out that she’s completely shitfaced.

Diego tries to reign in the anger that is usually his initial response to intense worry and fear. She’s a grown woman and she’s entitled to make her own bad decisions, and he’s overstepped on this sort of thing with her before, but when she just slowly blinks at him and then looks back down at the bottle of champagne that she’s loosely holding in the hand that’s not gripping on to the swing’s chain, barely keeping herself upright, Diego asks, in a tone that’s meant to be even but comes out pretty tetchy even to his own ears, “What are you doing out here?”

“Oh, you know, I got married today… just celebrating on my own, I guess,” Lila answers, lifting her bottle a little in explanation, but not looking up at him again. She’s doing a remarkable job of not slurring her words, he’ll give her that, but they do come out a little too slowly, far too deliberate, which confirms his suspicion that she is definitely pretty drunk.

“Uh huh…” Diego responds. He’s completely uncertain of what to make of the mood she’s in. The fact that her response to getting married to him is to completely numb herself with champagne certainly gives him pause, but he swallows down the lump in his throat, now’s not the time to wallow, and instead he asks, “D’you think you might wanna do that back home instead of out here in a fucking playground?”

Lila looks up at him with an odd clarity to her for a second before she takes a swig from her mostly empty bottle and says, “Nah, I’m good!”

Diego can’t suppress the noise of frustration that escapes him. “Lila! I’m not leaving you here all on your own in the middle of the god forsaken night! You’re gonna get robbed or murdered and then they’re gonna suspect me of marrying and then killing you for your money, and I really can’t afford to go to jail right now, so come the fuck back home with me!”

“Pfff, stop being so overdramatic, Diego, I’m not going to get murdered. And I’m not going anywhere in these heels, I tell you, I’ll just sleep here on this swing!” She closes her eyes and then wobbles precariously as she presses her face against the chain holding one side of the swing up.

Diego is very rapidly losing what is left of his patience.

“Also, may I point out,” Lila mumbles in her drowsy state, “that you did in fact marry me for my money— eeeeeeh!” she squeals, as Diego lifts her up – one arm behind her shoulders, the other behind her knees. Her bottle clatters to the ground and starts spilling the remaining champagne, and somewhere at the back of his brain Diego thinks he probably shouldn’t leave it lying around on a playground, but at the same time he’s also dealing with an armful of slightly flailing, very indignant fake wife (he knows intellectually that she’s not his fake wife, but his actual wife, but Diego can’t think too hard about that, because it causes all sorts of tumultuous feelings to twist in his gut).

Though Lila immediately wrapps her arms around his neck, she’s clearly not particularly pleased because she begins to argue as Diego starts making his way out of the playground, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m taking you home,” Diego growls, trudging along the sidewalk, a little amazed at how easy Lila is to carry. She’s almost larger than life so much of the time and even when they’d slept together, she gave as good as she got, Diego has up until this moment forgotten just how tiny she is, and his heart almost stops again at how vulnerable she was, what could have happened to her if he hadn’t come across her completely by accident. Diego sucks in a breath to try and calm the sudden wash of useless fear.

“That’s quite presumptuous!” Lila retorts, and Diego doesn’t need to look at her to know there’s an annoyed line between her eyebrows. In fact, he doesn’t think he can even look at her right now, not with the way her face is currently only inches away from his.

“We’re literally fucking married, Lila!” he scoffs. He’s not sure why he says it, but Diego thinks he might be going slightly insane with the whole situation.

“And you think that entitles you to something, now?” Lila asks in genuine disbelief and Diego suddenly feels way too exhausted for this conversation. “Yeah, I think it entitles me to making sure you don’t die of hypothermia, alcohol poisoning, or murder!”

There’s a long pause and then Lila grumbles, “Whatever,” and leans against his shoulder, apparently also overcome by tiredness.

And Diego is overwhelmed at how quickly his anger at her reckless and bratty behavior dissipates and is replaced with a much sharper feeling that digs its way almost painfully into his chest, when Lila tucks her face into the crook of his neck and promptly falls asleep.

Lila is almost completely still as he carries her back home and it gives his overwrought and exhausted brain time to contemplate how unhappy she seems to be with the situation and how that makes him feel in turn, and on top of that he even manages to feel a little guilty about the fact that the feeling of her warmth and weight against him does significantly settle his nerves, despite himself.

Diego’s always known that he’s not great with feelings. He usually feels too much of them and is never quite able to tell the people around him what that means and so he’s gotten quite used to not doing so. And even though earlier he contemplated telling Lilla, he realizes he can’t add another burden to the pile of shit she’s dealing with, especially not while she’s struggling to stay in the country of her choice and has to rely on him for her only solution.

Carrying Lila becomes a little bit difficult when Diego tries to unlock the front door. He ends up jostling her, attempting to wiggle the key into the lock with the hand that’s also holding on to her knees and Lila stirs but doesn’t wake fully, just snuffles adorably and cuddles closer to him, arms tightening in some kind of reflex to stop herself from falling.

Diego tries to concentrate on anything else, getting the door open, not slamming it, when closing it, because his neighbors would probably not appreciate the noise in the early hours of the morning, and then he makes his way straight towards her room so he can put her down on her bed.

He sets her down gently and then struggles to find the will to pull her arms away from his neck so for only a moment he allows himself to sit down on the bed with her and very gently put his arms around her in a hug. He’s not sure whether it’s to comfort Lila or himself.

“See, had no trouble getting home!” Lila mumbles into his neck and Diego scoffs at that, but it’s more out of genuine amusement than derision and he gives her one last squeeze before letting go and laying her against the bed gently. This time around Lila does let go and immediately buries her face into the pillow, and though her face scrunches up and he knows it’s only a matter of minutes before she’ll start drooling onto the covers with the way her mouth is half open, he can’t help thinking that she does look absolutely breathtaking.

Diego makes sure that her short red dress hasn’t ridden up her thigh indecently high and then gets to work on her sandals. Once he’s got them off, he finds a blanket on a small armchair in the corner of the room and covers Lila with it as she’s lying on top of her sheets and is fast asleep again, so he doesn’t want to wake her.

When he leaves her to it and closes the door behind him with a soft click, hoping to at least get a couple of hours of sleep himself before he has to get up for work later in the morning again, Diego lets out a long breath. He tries to convince himself that maybe it will take a few weeks, but he can get over this, get over Lila, but a niggling voice at the back of his mind points out that he’s never felt a sense of devotion for anyone quite like this before and that he is quite certainly in much bigger trouble than he’s letting himself believe.

-

Lila gets the hangover she deserves after drinking a bottle and a half of champagne, but is, unfortunately, not granted the luxury of forgetting what she got up to.

She remembers her evening and her night in vivid detail but from a perspective of a powerless operator, sitting somewhere in her skull, able to look out of her eyes and watch herself make an absolute nuisance of herself, but unable at the time to do anything about it.

She remembers feeling sorry for herself because she was in this situation in the first place, a thirty year old trust fund baby with no perspective in life, no family to speak of and while other women her age nave their lives together and are getting married and having babies, she just paid her roommate who she also happens to have a pretty bad crush on – no point in trying to kid herself about that anymore – to marry her for a green card. What a fuck up she truly is.

And then, wallowing in her misery as a selfish part of her even felt angry with Diego for just abandoning her on their wedding day – what a silly notion, seeing as this is a business arrangement between the two of them – she went out to buy some dinner for herself and instead brought home two bottles of champagne “to celebrate��, started dancing around to sad music the more intoxicated she got, and in the end feeling like she had to leave the flat or she would go absolutely stir crazy.

She obviously didn’t get very far, and she has no sense of how much time she spent sitting on that swing before Diego came to get her.

Lila feels desperately embarrassed. He must be so annoyed with her and thanking his lucky stars that he’s only married to her for the money and not actually stuck with the a fuck up like her. She could tell he tried to remain civil with her last night, mostly even indulging her, but he was clearly angry and she’d only goaded him further, out of some sense of righteous annoyance of her own. But in hindsight, she can’t blame him, he’s honestly been trying his best with her, gone above and beyond to support her efforts for a visa, and she can’t even keep it together for a single day.

Well, at least he’ll get a break from her, Lila muses as she pulls her cover over her head, trying to block out the little bit of light that’s filtering in through her curtains, because there’s no way she’s going to face him in this state. But once she’s recovered, feels a bit more like a human again, she’ll apologise and make sure he understands just how grateful she is for his help. It’s not his fault she’s developed some distracting feelings for him and he certainly doesn’t deserve her anger and frustration for not reciprocating feelings he knows absolutely nothing about.

And so Lila spends her day in bed, drifting in and out of sleep, half imagining and half dreaming about strong arms holding her close to a solid, warm body, and soft lips pressing gentle kisses to the spot just behind her ear.

-

A day and a half later they meet in the kitchen and it’s predictably awkward.

Lila tries to apologise for her behaviour but Diego just waves it away, says he understands that she’s having a hard time, and though that’s not quite what she wanted to say and part of her thinks he deserves a real apology, she also doesn’t particularly enjoy reflecting on her own behaviour and jumps at the opportunity to move on when Diego promptly changes the subject.

“I talked to a friend at my gym, Rodriguez. His wife isn’t a citizen either and he gave me some tips for the visa process,” Diego explains.

“Oh yeah?” Lila’s interest is piqued, because she still hasn’t quite worked out what that whole interview thing entails and she’s finally getting an inkling that Diego didn’t actually know much more beyond the fact that there is an interview.

“Yeah! So, he said it’s different for everybody but that he’d talk to his wife and they’d put a list together of the questions they remembered being asked. He said some of them were…” Diego looks down at the counter and starts scraping off an imaginary bit of dirt with his finger nail, “a bit personal… So, uhm, we’re gonna have to prepare for those.”

“I think we already did...” Lila mumbles under her breath.

“What was that?” Diego asks.

“Eh, nothing!” she rushes out, she didn’t actually mean to say that out loud even if he couldn’t hear her. “So, interview, okay, what else?”

“Yeah, uh, Rodriguez said this doesn’t happen too often and it didn’t happen to them, but there is a chance of an agent coming to inspect our apartment unannounced, so I thought maybe we should move some things around. You know, bring some of your things into my room, put some clothes of mine into your closet, just make sure it doesn’t look like we live in separate rooms. We can always say we’re keeping yours for guests,” Diego explains with a shrug.

“Okay, yeah, that sounds sensible,” Lila muses and starts worrying the nail on her thumb between her teeth because despite the fact that Diego seems to have a pretty decent handle on the situation, the whole idea of the interview process is making her nervous.

“You’re not really into this, are you?” Diego asks tentatively, and when Lila looks up at him his expression is one of concern, eyebrows drawn together, he’s lowered his head to try and get closer to level with her, and for a moment the tenderness in his eyes leaves her speechless.

“Yeah, I get it!” he goes on and then smiles slightly, “Hey, what are you doing the day after tomorrow? Are you working?” he asks.

“Uh, no?” Lila answers, hesitating a bit because the sudden change of the subject has her somewhat confused.

“I thought maybe we could take a drive to the shore, bring Ben’s camera and fill the film with some honeymoon photos. It’ll be too cold to go swimming, but the forecast seems like it should be pretty mild and sunny.” Diego suggests and, it seems without thinking, he reaches out and just very gently pulls on her wrist, so she stops biting her nail and instead lets her hand drop uselessly to her side.

“Yeah, okay…” Lila answers. She’s not sure why she’s not that enthusiastic about the idea. It’s not that she thinks she wouldn’t have a great time, in fact she thinks it could be kind of wonderful, spending a day driving to the seaside with Diego and taking a walk along the beach, maybe getting some ice cream. She wonders to herself whether the pang in her belly comes from the fact that actually she’d love a beach date with Diego, only she desperately wishes it wasn’t fake.

[darlinrogue]

“ sometimes i realize one day i could die, i could just disappear and the world would be none the wiser. there’d be no one to miss me and that terrifies me more than death itself. ” — kenny @ adam!

It’s All Down Hill From Here Ya’ll

Adam and Kenny || @ofgrief

Adam woke-up with the hangover of a lifetime. A whole ass construction crew wedged inside his cranium going to demolition town. Big, sweaty, muscly guys with jackhammers, wrecking balls, and heavy machinery. For some stupid reason he left the curtain open last night. Morning light spilled into the room and stabbed his eyeballs with serrated knives. Adam groaned and rolled over. He pressed his face into the pillow. His body ached, his head hurt, he was nauseous, and he kinda had to pee— shit, he hadn’t woken-up like this in a minute. Someone needed to shut-up their phone, the incessant chiming was getting on his last nerve. Then it hit him. That was his phone and his alarm going off at God’s forsaken hour of six-thirty. 

Adam slapped at the nightstand. He smacked the shit out of the alarm clock and knocked his car keys to the floor, no phone. Adam weathered the agony of lifting his head-up enough to look and hear the blasted thing beneath him. He slid halfway out of the bed and clawed at the floor beneath the headboard. Then, bingo, his hand closed around the phone and he pressed the power button to shut it up. With most of his upper body hanging off the mattress, Adam crumpled to the floor. His calves tangled with the blankets and he dragged the sheets clean off the bed with him. Flopped against the carpet, he massaged the bridge of his nose. There was a black hairband around his wrist and he had no clue where it came from. Adam yanked back his tangled, frizzy hair into a ponytail to get it out of his eyes. He laid there, blithe and numb, letting incoherent thoughts skim the surface of his consciousness. Bit-by-bit, Adam reconstructed the past twenty-four hours and it was enough to make him laugh. 

Damn, he was good.  

Eager to bask in a rare accomplishment, Adam turned his attention to his phone. He blinked and wiped the grit from his eyes as the screen flicked to life. He had one text message in his notifications. Kenny Omega, at a little past midnight texted him: [Wanna hang out?]

Adam let that time bomb tick as he unlocked his phone and checked Twitter instead. He searched Matt Hardy and perused the iconic’s Twitter feed. Another grin cracked Adam’s face down the middle. Hardy had no idea. That little task of self aggrandization done, Adam opened the messaging app. He stared at the screen and the little bubble of text from Kenny. Absent-minded, Adam reached down and yanked his belt off— only now realizing he never took it off. Then he answered Kenny’s question with a question.

[Got anything in mind?]

He paused, tongue running over his lips. Then, he untangled his legs from the sheets and blankets. Adam pushed to his feet and stumbled across the room to his bag on the desk. Inside he found Advil and a flask of whiskey. He washed the pain medicine down with a generous swig of alcohol. Adam coughed, beating on his chest to clear his dry throat. On the way to the bathroom he stripped out of his jeans. While brushing his teeth, his phone chimed. Adam spat into the sink and leaned over to read Kenny’s reply.

[My place. Dinner at six?] 

Okay, so that wasn’t ‘hanging-out.’ In Adam’s book, ‘hanging-out’ with Kenny was playing video games or going to an arcade. Maybe they’d work-out, train and drill in the ring, sit around the hotel room and watch movies. All the little things they did as a tag-team to kill time on the road or between matches. What Kenny proposed sounded like a —dare Adam say it— a date. Like two adults, sitting down over a candle-lit table, and talking about serious things for a couple of hours. Which, it was Kenny, so not a big deal, but at the same time, it was Kenny, which was a big deal. 

Since, November their relationship had been stuck in this weird, strange, gray, Twilight-Zone that was neither friendship or anything else. Cuddling in bed or on a couch, flirting, lingering too close, heady with physical desire, and softened by intimacy. Stablemates were always close, stuck on buses and planes for hours together enforced liking someone. Kenny and Adam had seen each other at the worst, at their best. This thing went beyond that. They were friends, tag-partners for a period, all they had left, and yet, nothing at all. Adam could ask Kenny: ‘What the fuck are we?’ If he thought he’d get a straight answer.

Unwilling to unpack all that, Adam dressed to work-out. He left his hotel room and started down the stairs to the lobby. He thought about dinner at six. Today’s original plan was to drive seven hours back to North Carolina, shooting straight-up I-95 along the coast. If Adam left after breakfast he’d be back in the afternoon. Staying another evening in Jacksonville wasn’t a big deal. Such were the benefits of a lonely bachelor life. A neighborhood girl usually took care of Adam’s dogs on Wednesdays. He could call her, offer a generous tip, and get another night. Around the sixth floor landing, he yanked his phone out of his pocket and gave Kenny his answer. 

[Sure, I’ll bring milk and beer. Give me your address.]

Down in the hotel gym he started his work-out, running through reps with almost memorized, mechanical ease. While Adam counted bicep curls, his phone chimed and he glanced at it long enough to see that Kenny had sent the address. Between sets, Adam popped the address into Google Maps. The house was a little over a half-hour drive away on Pointe Verde Beach, just outside of Jacksonville. Strange, because Adam had no memory of Kenny owning a house in or around Jacksonville. He heard whisper of a house near Orlando. He was vaguely aware that Kenny had stayed with Callis or Nakazawa a few times. Adam shuffled this mystery home off as another thing he just didn’t know about Kenny. He finished his work-out on the treadmill, running until endorphins blasted Kenny and the last of the hang-over from his brain. Adam returned to his hotel room to shower. 

While hot water rolled down his back and he scrubbed conditioner from his hair, Adam wondered after Kenny’s ulterior motives. Back in December Kenny made it clear what he wanted from Adam: sex. That wasn’t Adam’s own ego talking, that was straight out of the horse’s mouth. Kenny had said he wanted Adam to kiss him, touch him, and fuck him. That was what he said, almost verbatim. Adam was an adult. He spent a significant chunk of his twenties sexually active. He wasn’t shy or prudish, he had no hang-ups. He could do all the things Kenny wanted. Hell, he’d gladly do them, under the right circumstances. Provided Adam could negotiate the differences between male and female anatomy with any competence. Physical desire was absolutely a dimension of his attraction to Kenny. Except, he wasn’t sure if this was the right circumstances. The thought that Kenny was inviting Adam over to dinner for the sole purpose of propositioning him for sex, turned Adam’s stomach over. He cranked the water cold and sobered beneath the icy spray, jaw tight. He turned off the water and toweled off. Adam texted Kenny again. 

[Nak’s not going to be there, is he?]

Two seconds later, Kenny replied: 

[Nope, just us.]

And to keep some kinda banter, Adam texted him back, hoping that the words read as teasing.

[No Callis, either?]

[lmao no he’s in Tennessee doing Impact crap for the PPV. He left this morning.]

And Adam hadn’t felt this nervous about being alone with Kenny since the first time they played Mario Tennis with Chase Owens. Because shit, he’d been stringing Kenny along for months now. Sure, Callis had been a consistent cock block, but Adam wouldn’t pretend he and Kenny weren’t playing some kinda game. A no-rules, Calvinball-Esque, game with moving goalposts. There were no boundaries because Kenny and Adam never set any. That would imply proper and honest communication. All of it was impromptu and they were living on a prayer that neither of them stepped on any toes. In a way, Daily’s place was a blessing. The presence of others acted as a natural check-and-balance on Kenny and Adam’s weird dynamic. So long as they didn't talk about it, didn't acknowledge the elephant in the room, everything was fine. An evening alone felt like cutting the breaks. It wasn’t that Adam feared having sex with Kenny or Kenny outright trying to jump his bones. It wasn’t that he didn’t want that, or that he hadn’t thought about it. 

It was just that he wanted more.

Call him a sap, but Adam loved Kenny and he wanted Kenny to love him too. He wanted to go on dates. He wanted to wake-up in the same bed in the morning and to kiss Kenny awake. He wanted the small pleasure of fixing breakfast for both of them. Even to do the dishes together and all the boring domestic tasks of day-to-day life. To talk about how their days went but also to exist in quiet intimacy. He wanted to walk down the street holding Kenny’s hand. To drop casually in conversations, “My boyfriend Kenny—” To argue, make-up, and do better next time, all of it. And they were so off the rails because Adam was afraid that saying ‘no’ to Kenny in any capacity would kill what little they had. The what-ifs piled in Adam’s brain. Kenny using him for sex and then never talking to him again. Kenny telling him off for introducing more emotion that was necessary to a physical relationship. Kenny letting Adam know that he had finally moved on from his hot cowboy tag-partner and he won’t be needed anymore. The moment Kenny figured-out that he wasn’t going to get what he wanted from Adam— was the moment Adam lost him. 

Adam ate breakfast at the hotel hot bar. He had yogurt, an orange, eggs, and some links of sausage. He arranged for an extra night at the hotel and texted the girl who took care of his dogs. Then he got hustled by said teenager for almost twice the usual rate because she had, ‘lots of homework.’ Adam couldn’t complain because he was honestly kinda proud. She’d make a great carny one day. With not much else to do in Jacksonville, he left the hotel to go shopping. Adam had only packed for one night and not for a maybe-date with Kenny. He bought a white button down at a clothing store. Then, stopped by an uptown grocery store to buy 2% milk and local IPAs. Adam spent about three minutes lingering by a display of pre-arranged bouquets at the store, wondering if flowers would be too much. He walked away from the display, walked back, almost walked away again, stopped, and then stared a little longer. His hand fluttered by his side and before he could stop himself, Adam grabbed a bouquet of yellow flowers. Shit, he was an idiot. 

He thought, as the cashier rang him up, that Kenny was going to laugh at him. 

He took a lunch break at a small Mexican hole-in-the-wall because his diet was shot to hell today and he’d just have to admit it. Back at the hotel, he did his second work-out, showered again, and then realized he had three whole hours to kill. Three hours to get dressed, fuss over his hair, sit around, stare at the dumb flowers he bought, and consider if waterboarding would be a more or less effective form of torture. He scrolled Twitter, did some Duolingo. His body was tense, a live wire, his heart pounding. Adam left thirty minutes early and so took a twenty-minute detour, just to kill time. All so he wouldn’t look like a complete, desperate dweeb— showing-up early and with flowers? That would be way too much. 

The house was situated in an upscale, rich and retired, suburb nestled by the ocean. It was smaller, blander than the two, three story beach homes that towered around it, with their sparse lawns and obnoxious, pastel colors. It was a one-story, Spanish-style home with a brown roof and off-white siding. Palm trees and shaped topiary decorated the well-tended front yard. The sun back dropped the city to the West, burning gold. The angles of light painted the thin, sparse clouds pink, purple, and orange creamsicle. Adam parked in the driveway in front of the garage. He stepped out of his car and the wind, tasting of salt, pulled at his hair. Between the neighbor’s fence and the sand dunes, he caught sight of the Atlantic. The waves rolled and churned, edged by white foam-like lace. Adam walked around to the other side of the car. On the floorboards were the milk and beer, and on the passenger seat were the flowers. His hands trembled and his heart thudded against his chest like a hammer. Do or die, he had to commit now— fuck it, life was short and that bouquet was like twenty bucks. He tucked the beers under his arm, picked-up the milk in one hand, and the flowers in the other, 

Adam walked up to the front porch and used his elbow to ring the bell. Before Adam even retracted his hand, the door opened. Kenny stood on the other side of the threshold. His hair was yanked back into a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck. Flour dusted his pink t-shirt across the chest. Adam’s eyes drifted down to khaki shorts and the loafers he wore without any socks. For a brief second, Kenny stared at Adam, also giving him a once-over. Adam hesitated, trying to decide if he should give Kenny the flowers or put something down to offer a handshake— like a dork. He managed neither before Kenny cussed. 

“Son of a bitch, you dressed nice, shit, stay there.” Kenny pointed at Adam to indicate where he should 'stay.' Then, Kenny vanished into the house, leaving the door ajar. Adam gaped, brow furrowed and blinking like an owl. A Gregorian choir in his brain chanted, ‘dork, dork, massive dork!’ 

Kenny hadn’t come back by the time Adam processed his absence. So, he took the first step over the threshold. “Uh, Kenny? I’m coming in?” Adam called, to no reply. 

The inside of the house had a blandly typical beach house vibe. White walls, seashell decor, stock paintings of the ocean, and blue accents. There was a wood sign on the entry hall wall that read: Happiness comes in waves. To his left was the kitchen, a large space, with expansive white countertops and black appliances. There were a few bowls and dishes left out, with signs of being used. The sink was to put it lightly, a wreck, filled with utensils, cutting boards, and knives. Adam put the milk and beer in the fridge. Then noted that the dining room table was set. Each place had a gleaming crimson plate. No forks or knives, just chopsticks. A drinking glass for water. Kenny even had even folded the cloth napkins. All set on a black placemat. Adam wandered on into the rest of the house in search of Kenny. Connected to the dining room was the living room. Tall windows on the East wall allowed an expansive view over the pool, yard, and ocean. The sliding glass back door had been left cracked, to allow the cool and brisk breeze in. Adam pushed his hands into his pockets and soaked in the ocean at sunset. 

Footsteps echoed down the far hall. Kenny passed the living room doorway, on the way to the kitchen. He caught Adam out of the corner of his eye and pulled back, changing direction at the last second. Kenny smiled and spread his arms wide so Adam could admire new outfit. He’d changed into dark jeans, a red v-neck, and a black blazer. Still in the loafers, Adam noted, but that was just part of the Kenny charm. 

“Better, right?” Kenny asked. He did a full turnaround and then jaunted over to Adam. He smoothed the lapel of his blazer down. “I didn’t give you a dress code, so I packed something nice to wear just in case. Didn’t wanna feel awkward in khakis, ya know?”

“Yeah, you look good,” Adam agreed, returning Kenny’s grin. They diverted their gaze to the floor together. Adam, trying to find something to say, exaggerated a  look around the house. “Is this your uh, home?”

“Nope! I rented it on Air BnB,” Kenny said, proudly. “I’ve never used the app before, but it found this pretty sweet crib, so I’m impressed. A little pricey maybe, but for an evening, just for us? Worth it, I’d say.”

Adam heard Kenny but he couldn’t think of a response. It hit him that the food on the counter, the set table, the entire house, pointed-to one thing. Kenny had planned this. He had to look for a house, find one, pay for it, plan a menu, buy food, bring tableware, find time. He had planned this at personal expense. He had put real thought into setting-up a dinner for him and Adam.  This wasn’t some off-the-cuff idea. The only improvised part about this was inviting Adam himself. And to think, Adam thought Kenny only wanted to Netflix and chill. 

“I, uh, I got you these,” Adam stammered. He held out the flowers to Kenny. “Just, a housewarming, gift, I guess for — for you.”

“Oh, you did, thank you, Cowboy,” Kenny smiled, he took the bouquet from Adam. He hesitated, awkwardly gripping the plastic casing of the flowers. 

“I guess, you can put it in some water?” Adam suggested. He scratched at the back of his head. 

“Yeah, right, good idea,” Kenny nodded, he stepped back from Adam, lingered for a second, and then headed to the kitchen. 

Adam followed Kenny and while Kenny tore through the cabinets in search of a vase, Adam took a second look. Beside the stove were three white bowls with flour, eggs, and panko crumbs. On the burner sat a large, cast-iron pot filled several inches deep with cooking oil. A thermometer rested beside the burner. Kenny exclaimed, “ah-ha,” When he came up with a vase. He filled it with water and settled the flowers in. Brow furrowed he poked a couple daisies upright. Kenny set the vase with the flowers in the middle of the table, as an impromptu centerpiece.

“There, that livens-up the place,” Kenny said, putting his hands on his hips. He smiled at Adam and the ocean, through the windows behind him, framed his face. His eyes bluer than the sea and Adam only just noticed he didn’t have his glasses on. Instead, the glasses were hooked in the pocket of his blazer. Adam was invited here, talking with Kenny, about to have dinner, and his trepidation only grew.

“Is this all for us?” Adam asked, he leaned against the kitchen doorway and shoved his hand in his pocket. With his other he gestured broadly at everything. 

“Yeah, I thought it would be nice?” Kenny admitted, it was his turn to shrug. “Just us, for once. We haven't gotten to spend a lot of time together recently and there's some, some things I wanted to talk to you about. Stuff that's— that's better here maybe than at Daily’s Place. Is it too much?”

Kenny looked bashful, his smile soft, peering at Adam, his hand working over the back of a chair. It was nervous and sweet, open in a way that Adam hadn’t seen in months. Words were hard, but pushing off the doorpost and walking over to Kenny was easier. For a second, Adam’s hands hovered between them, and then he hooked his fingers beneath Kenny’s lapel. Kenny giggled and rested his forehead against Adam’s, his breath tickling Adam’s bottom lip. 

“It’s perfect,” Adam murmured. He untangled from Kenny’s jacket and slid his hands down Kenny’s sides until Adam held his hips. Adam pushed his palms against the jut of Kenny's bone, “What's for dinner, chef Kenny?”

Kenny giggled and gripped at Adam’s hands. “Well, I was thinking,” he glanced back at the kitchen, “I’d make us Tonkatsu, you know, those pork cutlets you get in Japan, with the breading and cabbage? I haven’t had any in a while and it’s one of my favorite dishes. And I ordered sushi, and dessert, from a couple local places—”

“So, you’re cooking?” Adam asked, he quirked an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah, what’s so bad about that? I can cook,” Kenny protested. He pulled back from Adam and moved into the kitchen. Adam returned to his position by the doorpost as Kenny rummaged in the fridge. He pulled-out a bag of plastic boxes and then a platter of salted pork. Kenny rolled his eyes, “Don’t tell me you’re afraid I’ll burn it? I promise only a little singe, for flavor. I mean it’s Tonkatsu, grade school children can make it.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Adam laughed, he lifted his hands to placate Kenny. “It’s just, you never hit me as the cooking type. Order in and dine-out always seemed more your style.”

Kenny stuck his tongue out at Adam. He laughed though and turned the stove on to heat the oil. The plastic bag crinkled as Kenny sorted through small platters of elegant sushi and laid each on the counter. “We can eat this while the oil heats. I wish I had a nicer serving tray but I didn’t think to bring one, and this house doesn’t have one— I looked. Oh, and I don’t know how you feel about it, but I got some sake too. It’s in the fridge. Do you like it hot? I’ve never had it, so, I don’t know what’s better.”

“Man, I don’t even know,” Adam said. He never liked the flavor of sake —too dry for his taste— so he’d let the discussion drop and hope that was better than rejecting Kenny’s offer. Adam walked over to help Kenny carry the sushi to the table. “I got you milk, though, two percent. I uh— put it in the fridge.”

“Oh, hell yeah,” Kenny smiled.  

While Kenny removed the covers from the sushi, Adam fetched his meager contributions to the meal. He returned with the gallon of milk and an IPA. Adam poured Kenny a tall glass of milk and Kenny poured Adam’s beer. Teeth buried in his bottom lip, like this task was monumental, Kenny dumped the bottle into the glass. By the time the bubbles fizzed down, Adam’s ‘beer’ was mostly air. It was the thought that counted and Kenny looked pleased. Before sitting down himself, Kenny pulled-out Adam’s chair for him. Adam muttered his thanks and sat down. Kenny took his place on the opposite side of the table and used his chopsticks to divvy up the sushi pieces between them. 

“Where’d you get this?” Adam asked. 

“Sushiko, a small place by the river, Cody recommended it,” Kenny said. “It’s a nice little restaurant and we’re by the coast so the seafood is fresh. I mean it’s not really, authentic, but that’s hard to get in America anyway.”

“Yeah, but it’ll be good,” Adam countered. “Do you want the ginger?”

“Nah, you can have it,” Kenny said, to punctuate his point he picked up a heap of the ginger and plopped it onto Adam’s plate. “Do you remember how to use the chopsticks? It hasn’t been that long since you were last in Japan, right?”

“I order take-out once a month to keep my skills sharp,” Adam promised. He picked-up the chopsticks by his plate. Then, took the ends and stuck them beneath his top lip like a walrus, “Goes like this right?”

Kenny laughed, hand lifting to cover his mouth as his shoulders shook with racks of giggles. Adam smiled and wiped off his chopsticks with his napkin. It was the kinda joke he’d crack when he was ten, on the rare occasion his parents took the family out to eat. His sister would find it hilarious, his father and mother less so. Yet, it seemed to amuse Kenny to no end, and all that bashful shyness was gone when the laughter subsided. 

“Yeah, close enough,” Kenny said, waving his hand. “Here you should try the tempura roll, it’s my favorite of all the inaccurate American sushis.”

Kenny picked up a piece of sushi with his chopsticks and offered it over the table for Adam to try. Adam didn’t point out that he already had a piece of that type on his plate. He only leaned forward and opened his mouth so Kenny could feed him the sushi. Adam bit down and savored the taste of shrimp, rice, and crunchy breading. 

“It’s good,” he said, nodding and humming his approval.

“Isn’t it?” Kenny asked, he jammed a roll with avocado in his mouth and grinned, pleased. “It’s kinda cliché, but I love this stuff.” 

Adam took a sip from his beer to wash down the rice gummed behind his teeth.

“I’ve always meant to ask,” Kenny said, he pointed with his chopsticks at the beer. “Do you... like that stuff?”

“Beer? Yeah, pretty well, it’s not my favorite drink,” Adam admitted. He ate another piece of sushi and chewed through his thoughts. “It has to be a good beer, the cheap crap isn’t worth the calories. Pleases the hell out of a crowd though.”

“Yeah, don’t you have to drive back?” Kenny’s brow furrowed. 

Adam laughed, “A beer or two isn’t going to send me over, Kenny. It's not like liquor, it's a much lower alcohol content. I probably won't even feel the buzz, especially drinking on food. By the time I leave, I'll be close to zero. I try to keep track of my limits these days, and you know, it’s hard to be no carb and take shots.”

“Trainers got you on no carb?” Kenny asked, with a lifted brow. It was a quick change of topic and Adam appreciated the tact. 

“Yeah, have been for a while now, it’s probably better that way,” Adam shrugged. “You know not all of us shred fat like you.”

“Well, that’s not so easy these days,” Kenny admitted. “Not all of us are as young as you.”

“Hey, a few months and I’ll be thirty,” Adam pointed-out. “Or like, twenty-four by Cody’s metric, something like that.”

“You can’t say that being youngest wasn’t a good shake,” Kenny said. “You never had to pay for anything.”

“Just all the ribbing,” Adam grinned.

Adam popped some ginger in his mouth and waggled his eyebrows for emphasis. Kenny was all grins and the smiles were a relief. This wasn’t a total cluster fuck and Adam hadn’t said something to screw-up the mood. This was going much better than his anxiety allowed him to anticipate. A pause to eat lulled the conversation to a brief silence. Yet, Adam could tell by the way Kenny studied his Philadelphia roll, there was something on his mind. 

“So, uh, last night,” Kenny said, he placed his elbow on the table. “Did you sign a contract with Matt Hardy? Did I interpret that segment correctly? I was preparing for my match so I wasn’t really paying attention, but—”

Adam paused, chopsticks halfway to his mouth, and then he grinned. “I did.”

“Did you read that contract?” Kenny probed. “Listen, I know you and Hardy go back but I’m not sure you should trust that guy, Page. He’s a bit of a carny— I mean his gimmick is ‘Big Money Matt.’ That has got to be a warning sign. I know Matt and Nick brought him in by burying his vessel or whatever, but he’s changed a lot since the Stadium Stampede. He’s got the whole, I guess split personality thing going on?”

“Oh, I read the contract I signed,” Adam nodded. He savored the taste of a Dragon roll, fishy and popping with acidity. “Hardy didn’t, but I did.”

“Oh, really,” Kenny waxed, he pressed his finger tips to his chin. “Something you wanna fill me in on?”

“Yeah, I switched the contracts,” Adam said. 

Kenny gasped, “You switched the contracts?! Oh, ho, Page, I knew you were smart, brilliant, tell me everything.”

“Well, I knew he was going to invite me to a bar, because he said so on Twitter,” Adam began. “Like, you said, I’ve known Matt for a while and he’s always been a dick. He was talking all about how I’m going to be some great star or the ‘top guy’ in AEW, or whatever, some bullshit, but I kinda figured his plan was to get me drunk and willing to sign something stupid.”

He leaned back in his chair, sipping on his beer and thinking. Adam couldn’t get why every other manager in AEW was salivating at the idea of getting him on their payroll. The Dark Order was trying to recruit him. Taz was talking about him. Matt Hardy seemed to think Adam was the second coming of Jesus. Adam assumed that he was so sought after because the actual best wrestler in AEW was already spoken-for. And Jon Moxley wasn’t the type to tolerate companionship. So, that left Adam Page. Talk about scraping the bottom of the barrel. 

“So, I uh, had a little something prepared for him,” Adam shrugged. “I don’t think he’s figured it out yet, so like, don’t go spreading it around? Snitches get stitches, Kenny, and I mean it.”

“My lips are sealed,” Kenny promised. He pantomimed zipping-up his mouth, locking it, and throwing away the key. He leaned forward, hand bracing against the table. “But really, what was in the contract?’

“You wanna know?” Adam asked. 

“Yeah, I wanna know!” Kenny said. 

“Well, I’m not going to tell you,” Adam smirked. “You’ll just have to find-out with Matt Hardy and everyone else. I don’t wanna pop the surprise.”

“Aw, Pizz, you’re killing me, now that’s all I’m going to think about for the rest of the night!” Kenny laughed, he deflated into his chair. Then he bounced back, livened with an idea. “Oh, I know, you made it so you get a third of his merch sales? A half?! Man, that’s brutal. Ooh, I know what you should’ve done, what I would do? Make him your butler for a few weeks, that would be funny.”

Adam chuckled, cheeks flushed with amusement. All he did was shake his head and keep his mouth shut. Kenny gave-up, lifting his hands in a gesture of peace. While they ate, Kenny talked about the Women’s Title Eliminator tournament and all that went into organizing it. He seemed excited to debut the woman’s bracket next week. He promised that he had seen the matches, and they were, “fantastic.” In particular he was ecstatic about Aja Kong and Yuka progressing. Adam had no idea who Maki Itoh was beyond her Twitter, but Kenny was adamant she get a contract at some point. On his part Adam was happy to sit back —long after polishing off his own plate— and listen to Kenny, occasionally interjecting a question or an affirming, “mhm.” Eventually, Kenny got around to eating his last piece of sushi. His eyes darted beyond Adam’s shoulder and pushed himself to his feet to go check on the oil. 

Adam turned in his seat to watch Kenny in the kitchen. He was eyeing a thermometer dipped in the pot. Pleased with the temperature, he moved to start working with the meat. Kenny used a skewer to dip a pork cutlet into the flour, then egg, then back into the flour. Adam cleared the sushi plates from the table. He rinsed them in the sink. He cleaned a few other dishes, cutting boards, and knives, listening to Kenny complain about getting flour on his fingers. Adam put the dishes on the rack and dried his hands on a towel. He wandered to Kenny’s side. Kenny had coated two cutlets in panko crumbs and the breaded meat sat on a plate ready to go. He fiddled with the thermometer, brow furrowed in concentration. He adjusted the temperature on the stove and then gripped the pot handle to center it on the burner. He hissed when his hand touched hot metal. Kenny stuck his finger in his mouth. 

“Hot,” he breathed to Adam. 

“Yeah, no shit, go rinse it under the cold water,” Adam ordered. “Are you okay?”

“Just my pride,” Kenny said, as he ran his finger under the faucet and washed his hands of flour. “I thought I was going to be so cool, making Tonkatsu for you, and you’d be like, ‘wow, look at Kenny be a boss in the kitchen,’ and now I’m just kinda—”

He returned to the stove and looked at the simmering oil with particular trepidation. 

“Now, I’m just kinda nervous,” he admitted, smiling again. “Like, I don’t want to fuck this up and ruin the evening, or something.”

“Do you want help?” Adam asked.

“How heroic,” Kenny pined. “A cowboy come to save me.”

“Yeah, yeah, mostly I just don’t want the food burned,” Adam said, stepping to Kenny’s side. He nudged his hip against Kenny’s and picked-up a skewer. The task was simple, pick-up the two pieces of meat and plunge them into the boiling oil. Yet, when Adam did it, Kenny looked at him like he did something astounding. Adam handed the tongs to Kenny, “you can flip them on your own, right?”

“Pfft, I got that,” Kenny bragged, taking the utensil from Adam. He positioned himself, watching as bubbles formed around the meat. The panko browned to an appetizing gold. As the meat cooked, it exuded juices that caused the oil to spit. Kenny yelped, when some struck his arm, shifting behind Adam. “Unless it fights back?!”

“Aren’t you the guy who fought a G1 with a fractured heel?!” Adam snapped. “Don’t be a baby, it’s just oil, it’s not going to bite you! Get in there.”

Kenny patted Adam’s shoulder and shifted to plunge the tongs into the oil. He flipped both pieces of meat. Although, he held the tongs at the furthest extent to avoid oil splatter. Adam placed his hand on the small of Kenny’s back to hold him steady as they waited the last minute for the meat to finish. It was such a simple gesture but Kenny’s nerves seemed to evaporate under his touch. Kenny fished out the cutlets and placed them diagonally on a draining rack. The cooking done, Kenny kicked Adam out of the kitchen while he finished the rest of the meal. Adam returned to the dining table, sat down, and enjoyed his beer. The soothing melody of Kenny banging around behind him as background noise. 

A few minutes later, Kenny placed a plate in front of Adam. The cutlet had been sliced thin and fanned across the edge of the plate. A generous heap of shredded cabbage piled in the middle garnished with a slice of tomato and lemon. On the side were pickled radishes. The colors popped and the meat smelled delicious. Kenny laid a small container of pouring sauce between them on the table. Kenny sat down with his own plate across from Adam.

“This is so— great, Kenny,” Adam breathed, looking over the food. He picked-up his chopsticks and dove in for the Tonkatsu. It was juicy and savory, with a nice crunch. Adam groaned, “It tastes fantastic.”

“Thanks, I was worried about overcooking it, but with you at my side, it was easy,” Kenny said, he smiled. He poured some sauce on his cutlet. “We make a great team.” 

Adam focused on pinching some cabbage between his chopsticks, eyes casting down to the plate. “Yeah, I— I guess we do.”

“Hey, it was just an observation,” Kenny said, he nudged Adam’s foot under the table with his own. "It doesn't have to mean anything."

“No, no, it’s fine,” Adam said. He took a sip of beer but didn’t taste it. “You’re right, I was just thinking— I’ve tagged with a lot of people lately, and none of them are like you. You really are the best.”

“That’s sweet, cowboy,” Kenny grinned, but Adam sensed the need to change the conversation. Mourning the tag-team wasn’t uplifting for either of them. 

“So, where did you learn to make this?” Adam asked. He gestured at the Tonkatsu. “’Cause it’s really good. Not going to lie, that’s what I miss about Japan— the food. They just don’t have the same, I don’t know, style? Yeah, style, in America.”

“Well, I learned from one of the ladies I stayed with when I first moved to Japan in, 2008, well, kinda learned,” Kenny elaborated. He shrugged, “mostly I just watched her cook and sometimes she let me help. She always did the bits with the oil because she was afraid I’d burn myself. My Japanese wasn’t good back then but I’m pretty sure she thought I was just an idiot.”

“I mean, you can be a bit,” Adam paused. Kenny pressed his lips thin, so he picked his next word carefully, “ditzy?”

“I’ll give you that,” Kenny said. “I wouldn’t trust me around a big pot of boiling oil either. You handled yourself pretty well in there, though.”

“Deep fried is a staple food in the rural south," Adam said. "It's a survival skill, where I'm from. It's okay, Kenny, you can kick my ass Street Fighter, later, so that way we're even."

The conversation slowed so they could finish eating. Just the sounds of chewing and chopsticks clacking. It was good, the cabbage contrasting to the meat, and the sauce adding a hint of sweetness. It wasn't an awkward or uncomfy silence, Adam wasn't looking for an excuse to breach it. It was just them, together, enjoying the mutual company. When Adam finished eating, just to gross out Kenny, he picked up his plate and licked it clean. The gesture had the intended effect of making Kenny screw-up his nose and expression. Adam took his last swig of beer and then carried both their plates to the sink. Adam helped Kenny tidy-up the kitchen. Adam washed the dishes and Kenny dried, putting the plates away on the shelves. They moved around each other like this was something they did every night. Yet, each time Kenny’s elbow jostled Adam or he moved a step closer, a warm heat spread across Adam’s skin. It was dark outside when they finished and Kenny turned on lights in the house to illuminate the rooms. 

“You up for cake, cowboy?” Kenny asked as he returned. He took a box out from the fridge and finagled the lid open. Inside the box was a small, white cake decorated with vanilla icing, raspberries, and fancy swirls. Kenny smacked Adam’s hand away when he tried to taste the frosting. 

"Ow," Adam grunted. He cradled his hand to his chest.

“I didn’t really know what you liked, but everyone likes vanilla, so I figured I couldn't go wrong,” Kenny admitted as he took the cake out of the box. Adam got plates and a knife to cut with. Kenny stuck his tongue out as he sliced into the cake. It was obnoxiously cute. He pointed with the knife, “Is this big enough?”

“That’ll do it,” Adam said.

 Kenny sliced the cake and put a piece on a plate that he handed to Adam, then cut his own piece. The inner filling of the cake was a bright red raspberry and Adam hummed, eager. to try Kenny took a fork and cut off a small piece of his cake slice. He offered the morsel to Adam. Once again, Adam let Kenny feed him. It was sweet, with a delicate crumb, and acidic with the fruit. Kenny opened his mouth, making an ‘ah’ sound, to indicate he wanted Adam to return the gesture. Adam obliged, watching with fascination as Kenny’s lips closed around the fork. A speck of icing trapped at the corner of his mouth. Before he could stop himself, Adam leaned forward and kissed it off— grinning all the way back as Kenny’s cheeks flushed. 

“You remember when we tricked that waitress into giving us free cake?” Kenny asked. His eyes lit-up, to divert his attention though, he glanced down for another bite. “That was— fun.”

“I don’t think we tricked anybody,” Adam laughed. "I think the waitress knew what was up the whole damn time."

“What, we weren’t a convincing couple?” Kenny asked. The question so earnest, his voice so soft, that Adam almost dropped his plate. Deep in Kenny's eyes hid a kernel of curious probing. Like he was testing the waters. Wading-out waist high in a surging tide.

“I— um, I guess we were.” Adam ducked his head, but Kenny shoved at his shoulder and the tension dissipated. 

“I’m just teasing you, Hangers,” he laughed. “Eat your cake, before I do. Hey, I know, why don’t we go sit outside? C’mon.”

Kenny had already split off and so that settled it. Adam got a beer from the fridge and followed Kenny out the back door. At the edge of the pool was a small sitting area with chairs and a couch. The ocean crashed against the shore, loud and echoing in Adam's inner-ear. He felt the tide wearing away the sand in his teeth. Kenny sat down on the couch, tossing his phone on the coffee table. He crossed his legs up and finished off his cake. Adam joined him on the other side of the couch. They remarked on the flavors of the cake and speculated if the icing was cream cheese or not. Finished eating, Kenny put his plate down and lounged back against the cushions. 

Adam studied Kenny’s profile. His straight nose and angular jaw, the untamed stubble on his cheeks. His lips pink with red raspberries. In red and black, he looked marvelous. The wind tussling his curls. And his eyes, so scarce these days, holding every emotion Adam hoped to see reflected in them. Adam’s heart collided with the inside of his ribs. He took his last bite of cake and put aside the dishes. Then, for courage, he swigged on his beer and set that aside too. He leaned into the cushions, adjusting a pillow underneath his right elbow. 

“Hey,” he said, voice coarse and weak, the word lost to the ocean. Kenny looked at him, hearing him anyway, and Adam opened his arms wide, “What are you doing over there? Get your ass over here.”

Kenny slid over until he leaned against Adam’s side. Adam swung his legs up onto the couch and pulled Kenny against his chest. Kenny settled between his legs and Adam draped his arm over Kenny’s back. Something dislodged in Adam’s lungs and he breathed easy for the first time in months. Kenny sighed and pressed his cheek to Adam’s collarbone. His hand ran over Adam’s bicep. Adam reached over Kenny, picked-up his beer, and took another casual swig. Part of him regretted the alcohol because now his breath must smell like beer and cake. The other part of him needed it to function in this moment. 

Adam drew broad circles between Kenny’s shoulder blades, feeling each hard muscle, defined and strong beneath his hand. Kenny was warm in contrast to the cool night, like a little personal heater. Adam chuckled, content as he leaned back against the arm rest. Kenny turned his face into Adam’s chest and buried his nose into Adam’s shirt. He shuddered in Adam’s arms, a full body tremble working all the way down his spine. Adam lifted his hand to work his fingers through Kenny’s hair and curls. A little coarser now since he dyed it, black and silver. Adam didn’t know what else to say or think, or do. Didn’t know if this was Kenny using him for comfort or something more. If he was supposed to read between the lines, look for the fine text, or just be a quiet and good pillow. Maybe, he'd just pretend that the way Kenny clung to him was because of love. 

“I like your hair like this,” Adam mused. He ran his fingers through Kenny’s scalp. It was an easier question than: why did you bring me here? What do you want from me? What are we? 

“Thanks,” Kenny muttered. He turned his cheek to press against Adam’s chest. Adam considered that an improvement. 

“Are you okay?” He managed. 

Kenny sighed, shoulders heaving. He wrapped his arms around Adam’s waist and cinched in, holding him close. It was the total experience of being owned. That Adam was Kenny’s to have and hold onto. It was possessive in a way that thrilled Adam. That there were seven billion people on this planet and he was the one Kenny Omega invited to a rented house for dinner. Adam was the one who got to hold Kenny Omega, not anyone else. Adam was the one Kenny Omega wanted to be held by. It had to mean something. He wanted it to mean something. Please, let it mean something. 

“It’s just,” Kenny whispered. His voice soft, but Adam carded his fingers through Kenny’s hair to encourage each word forth. “Sometimes, I realize one day I could die. I could just disappear and the world would be none the wiser. There’s be no one to miss me and that— that terrifies me more than death itself.”

Then, Kenny laughed, shaking his head, giggling like he said something funny. Not something that Adam had no idea how to react to. Every word of it raised a protest inside Adam though. That he cared, that he would notice, that he would be devastated to lose Kenny. That he lost Kenny once and he had no intentions of ever doing it again. Except, Adam had no idea how to say all that in a way that made sense. When he opened his mouth to speak nothing came out but a huff of carbon dioxide. Kenny tensed, feeling Adam’s diaphragm tighten. It was as if Adam’s anxiety infused and intertwined with Kenny's, into something ugly between them. Adam could just hold Kenny tighter and that would make Kenny understand. Hold so tight to Kenny that he couldn’t leave, couldn’t go anywhere, and they’d just fit together, and it’d work. 

Except, Adam was no longer so young and stupid as to believe that would work. It wasn’t enough to ask Kenny, ‘do you trust me,’ when he already breached that trust. Adam couldn’t hold on alone, they had to meet in the middle. These things had to be mutual. This was a two street and Adam had no idea if Kenny was walking towards him or away. He was just a blur in the distance that he was chasing like hell. As if, when he caught Kenny, he’d get the answers to the questions he was too afraid to ask. 

Kenny shifted, pushing back against Adam and the awkward silence between them. The silence Adam let linger too long. He wondered if just screaming would work better than this. Kenny sat-up, and tucked a piece of hair behind his ear. He clung to one of Adam’s hands like it was a life raft in the middle of that ocean out there. They sat thigh-to-thigh, hip-to-hip. Maybe, that’s how Adam felt, like Kenny was drowning and all he could do was yell advice from the shoreline. 

“Look,” Kenny began, he licked his lips. He stared at where their knees touched. Adam could feel Kenny's pulse fluttering beneath his fingers. “There’s something I gotta tell you.”

Kenny giggled again, shoulders shaking and Adam had no idea what the joke was. He placed his other, free hand on Kenny’s shoulder. 

“I set all of this up to tell you, but I— I don’t know what to say,” He admitted. He shook his head and squeezed Adam’s hand. 

“Whatever, whatever you feel, man,” Adam offered, lamely. “You know I’m here for you.”

“Look—” Kenny began.

He looked-up, gunmetal blue eyes matching Adam’s gaze. The warm glow from the house burned his cheeks gold and he shivered. Kenny was scared, the thought hit Adam like a gunshot. Terrified, looking at Adam, like Adam was going to hurt him. Like a whipped dog anticipating being taken out back.  

“Adam, I—”  he began, then a sharp chime cut him off.

Both Kenny and Adam looked down at Kenny’s phone on the coffee table. Don Callis, calling Kenny, the phone vibrating against the glass. Kenny withdrew his hand, untangling from Adam, scooting away. Like, he'd been burned and scalded, like he just put his hand back on that pot handle and this time gripped tight. “I’m not— I’m not going to answer it. I— I told him I’d be busy,” Kenny stammered, his hands working through his hair. There was a bite to his tone that set Adam’s heart on fire. “I don’t know why he’s calling me he should know.”

As Kenny’s pitch hitched and his voice cracked, Adam lunged forward to hit the decline button on the phone. The phone stopped ringing and Kenny sighed, his face stricken pale. Adam himself breathed for the first time in almost a minute, slowly leaning back into the couch. His hands rested on his knees. The ocean crashed and receded. 

“He can leave a damn voice mail,” Adam managed, cracking a half-grin but when he looked at Kenny it was not returned. Instead, Adam met wild eyes and a pale face, white with fear. In a few seconds it calmed, the war raging in Kenny dying down as he glanced away from Adam. As Adam watched Kenny pulled the glasses-free from his front pocket and shoved them on his face. He licked his lips, jaw working tight. “Kenny, is everything okay?”

“Fine, it’s fine, I’m fine,” Kenny repeated, his hands rubbed over his thighs. “I’m not— I’m not going to keep you, you can go. It was— It was fun tonight, thanks.”

Kenny lifted and waved his hand as if to dismiss Adam. Adam’s felt his temper go through the roof, just a moment of complete rage that calmed immediately. There were no words, just screaming like if he opened his mouth, a long drawn howl would escape instead of anything coherent. And that was the best he could do to express the emotions in his head. His teeth gritted and Adam rubbed his hands through his hair, trying to clear out the thoughts from his head. 

“No, wait, Kenny what did you want to tell me?” Adam asked. “What were you trying to say before Don called?”

“All, I wanted to do was just tell you that— that,” Kenny stuttered, and Adam had no faith that what came out of his mouth next was the truth. “That you can always talk to me if you need it. That, that I’m here for you, Page, and like, that you don’t need to go signing stupid contracts with Matt Hardy, but you didn’t so, it’s really not a problem. You— you didn’t need me.”

“Is that it?” Adam asked, he glanced around the house. Thought of the sushi and the home-cooked meal. Of cake and Kenny dressing nice just for Adam. “You did all this, just to tell me that? Are you sure that’s what you wanted to tell me?”

“What do you think?” Kenny asked, he peered at Adam. The glasses and his expression were like a brick wall. Impassive, unreadable, and drawing Adam to a total stop. Adam’s stomach twisted, lips parted in unvoiced confusion. Adam couldn’t answer the question because he was afraid of what Kenny thought. Kenny didn't love him, Kenny didn't care, Kenny was using him.

 “Seriously, Page, I’m fine— you can leave if you want,” Kenny repeated. “It was fun tonight.”

“No, no, no, Kenny,” Adam interjected. “No, I’m not just leaving, I’m not going anywhere until I get some damn answers about what the hell is going on. I’ve been out of my mind for months trying to figure us— this, out.  It ain’t even just about what you did to Moxley or any of the other crap. I was with you in Japan, I know how you are. Excalibur may be scandalized but I was there when you won the Intercontinental title off Tanahashi. I know how it goes. What gets me, is that you hadn’t done that shit since Japan. Ever since Don Callis came back you’ve been acting weird and I think by this point I deserve some damn answers.”

“Okay, fine, fine, what do you want to know?” Kenny demanded. He crossed his arms over his stomach. “I am an open book.”

“It’s just, I don’t know—” Adam stumbled over his words, the real questions getting in the way of the ones he could actually ask. What are we? So, instead, he stumbled-on, “Are you sure you can trust Don?”

“Of course, I can,” Kenny scoffed. “We’re changing the business Adam, changing the world, history! All those solid steel doors, those arbitrary barriers in our sport? They’re gone now! Impact, New Japan, NWA, Stardom, they’re all clamoring to get a spot on our show. We are the hottest thing in wrestling, not WWE, us. Tony Khan, the Bucks, and Cody, the whole locker room, they should be thanking us, we’re giving them jobs, improving their pay checks, and what do we get?! Just like you said, Excalibur on commentary with a bad attitude. No one else shares my vision, no one else gets it, not like Don does.”

Kenny shook his head, curls flopping around. He spoke fast, quickly, trying to get to the next words as soon as possible. 

“I thought that was all bullshit,” Adam admitted. “Just shit Don was making-up to justify taking the title.”

“Page, please!” Kenny said, his hand fluttering in Adam’s direction. “We’ve been planning something like this for years. This isn’t a mere money-making scheme, Don isn’t like Matt Hardy. And yeah, maybe that means I can’t be around Matt and Nick as much anymore, maybe the locker room hates me, maybe I’m not as popular with the audience— big deal. They’ll come around, they always come around, they’ll realize how much I’ve done for them. People change, this is— this is bigger than any one person.”

“Oh, Don isn’t like Matt Hardy?” Adam asked, he lifted an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

Kenny pushed to his feet and Adam stood too. Kenny’s hands fluttered around and something flexed in his jaw like he was chewing on sand. His voice was darker, biting with anger as he shook his finger at Adam. “Don’t even start with me, Page, about who to trust. We both know your track record.”

“Matt Hardy doesn’t give a shit about me,” Adam stated. Kenny stepped-in like it was a warning, but Adam squared his shoulders and with a look wilted Kenny. Adam took sick satisfaction in the inch or two of height he had. To lift his chin, and stand his ground. “And Don Callis doesn’t give a shit about you.”

“Don is like family to me,” Kenny snapped, his finger jutted into Adam’s face, his voice lifting in pitch and volume. Adam couldn’t remember if they ever got to this point with each other, yelling. No, he remembered some shoves in the ring. “He cares about me. I know he does. I’ve known him since I was a child, Page. It’s not the same thing.”

Adam worked his teeth into his bottom lips. He placed his hand on his hips and glanced towards the ocean. Black and churning, the waves thrown in turmoil, rolling, clawing-up the beach to high tide. Adam let himself feel the wind in his hair and his pounding heart. He glanced back at Kenny. 

Back in the day, Biz Cliz days, the Bullet Club, and the Elite was Kenny’s family. They were the ones who looked after him after matches. They were the ones who fetched ice or hot packs for his injuries. They were the ones at ringside. The ones in his tag-teams. The ones who helped him pick-out clothes or get in his ring gear. Adam thought they were family and he had fought like hell for that family. Scrabbled to keep the little niche of home he’d found, that place he belonged. He spared a thought, that something had gone wrong, terribly wrong. So wrong, that Kenny, went to someone else instead of his family. FTR, the Dark Order, Matt Hardy, the Good Brothers, Don, all these side distractions instead of the stable that cared about them. Egos blew-up, friendships faded, but it took more than a couple of arguments to break the Elite. There was a looming specter, sticking his fingers in the crack. Adam may’ve left the Elite but he always thought there’d be something to go back to. He never thought his absence would unravel his friends— never dreamed it. 

He didn’t even think they’d notice he was gone. 

“Does your family usually hit you with a microphone?” Adam asked. 

Kenny’s lips parted, his jaw falling slack. His shoulders drooped and then he rubbed his hand beneath the rims of his glasses. He crossed his arms, gaze turning downwards. Adam’s hands fell to his sides, feeling that the fight was over. Kenny shook his head as if to physically dislodge Adam’s words from his skull. Kenny was a fighter, he was a leader, he was a crazy visionary, who did his own thing. He always had an argument in him. He always kicked-out. He fought sixty minute matches against Okada. The way he capitulated in defeat here and now was fascinating because it was so against him. It was like Adam pushed back and found nothing but dust. That he had glanced back over his shoulder and suddenly Kenny had turned to salt. A pillar of salt, crumbling in Adam’s hands. A divine and cruel trick, stealing from him what he most desired, at the last possible second. 

Adam sighed, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets. Then, Kenny lurched forward and pressed his forehead into Adam’s shoulder. Adam closed his eyes and reached-up to tangle his fingers back in Kenny’s hair. He worked out a knot and then smoothed his palm down Kenny’s back. Kenny trembled against him, fingers twisted in Adam’s shirt. It was a desperate grip, like this attention and concern was foreign to Kenny. Like he was starved and Adam supposed that made sense because this didn’t feel like something Don Callis would do. Because Don Callis didn't care about Kenny. He wouldn't take care of Kenny, not like his friends would— like they were supposed to. They had failed Kenny and so he went to someone else. (They had failed Adam and so he had went to someone else). Adam hummed, low in his throat, and buried his nose in Kenny’s hair. He smelled of cologne and sea salt, and everything Adam missed. 

“Forget about Don,” Adam said. “I— I shouldn’t’ve said that, it’s none of my damn business.”

“I just don’t want to fight with you,” Kenny admitted. “I don’t— I don’t deserve you, Page.”

“Nah, don’t say that,” Adam shook his head. “Because if you were gone, you know I’d miss you, right? I ain’t got that many friends left, Kenny. You’re special to me.”

“Charmer,” Kenny grunted. 

“Can’t coast on just my good looks, you know,” Adam chuckled. He wrapped both his arms around Kenny and drew him tighter. Knowing that he was being used. Knowing that they were no closer now than they were before. “Gotta have some personality.”

“Hmm, but you are good-looking,” Kenny agreed. His hands smoothed down Adam’s side, unabashed in feeling the muscles and curves of his waist. “You’re very handsome, cowboy.”

Adam chuckled as Kenny wrapped his arms around him. It felt good to be needed. Good to be wanted and held. To be possessed by someone. Adam wanted Kenny to own him. But, he wasn’t sure if it was real or if Adam was just here, and hot, and it worked. 

“I can stay,” Adam murmured. “Just one night, you and me, like— like in the hotel.” 

“You— you want to?” Kenny asked. He pulled from Adam to look at him, or rather let Adam look at his glasses. “I have an extra toothbrush.”

“Good, because all my shit is at the hotel,” Adam said, flashing a grin. 

Adam tapped Kenny on the back to urge him back inside. Adam carried in the plates and his mostly undrunk beer. At the kitchen sink, he chugged a few big gulps and poured the rest of the alcohol down the drain. Adam rinsed and cleaned the dishes, while Kenny finished tidying-up behind him. The domesticity was intoxicating, giving Adam more of a buzz than the beer. It was deceptive too. For a second, Adam could pretend they did this little ritual every night. Clean-up after dinner, put-away all the dishes, and then, turn off the kitchen lights, head for bed. As Adam followed Kenny down the hall to the master bedroom, he rubbed the sweat off his palms and onto his pants legs. 

The master bedroom had a large bed, a couch, desk and chair, and a TV on a stand. A sliding door connected to the back patio outside. Airy, light blue curtain hung over the windows and glass. The walls were painted white and the bedding was blue. The typical beach decor was as bland as the rest of the house. Kenny rummaged around in a suitcase, left on a couch with a few stray articles of clothes on the cushions. He procured a set of soft fabric shorts and tossed them to Adam. 

“I don’t sleep in pajamas like you do, Pizz,” Kenny said. His early energy was gone and he said all of it like it was a statement of fact. Adam didn't doubt Kenny's ability to put on a show though. Even if he felt like shit he'd find a way to hide it. “So, you’ll just have to do with my work-out clothes. I washed them, I promise.”

“Are you going to sleep in your X-men undies again?” Adam teased. Kenny found a toothbrush but instead of handing it to Adam, he chucked it at Adam’s head. Adam caught the flung toothbrush with a clap of his hands. “Hey, I like Wolverine!”

“No, for the record I wore briefs this time,” Kenny said. He shrugged off his blazer and smiled softly, almost regretfully. “I came prepared.”

Adam stepped around the edge of the room, watching as Kenny peeled off his shirt. He’d seen Kenny shirtless a thousand times. He could map each expanse and stretch of muscle, the powerful curve of his back, his thick arms, and broad shoulders. This time felt special, significant, especially when Kenny glanced over his shoulder at Adam and caught him watching. Adam ducked his head and escaped into the bathroom. 

Once the door was closed behind him, he stared at himself in the mirror. Adam splashed cold water on his face and then brushed his teeth. He changed into Kenny’s shorts, used the toilet, and left, wiping his hands on the hand towel. Kenny had changed into a pair of sweat pants and he was yanking the curtains closed over the window. Adam walked-up behind him, hooked an arm around Kenny’s waist and pulling him back to his chest. 

“I’ll wait for you in bed,” Adam murmured, dipping his head to speak in Kenny’s ear. “Don’t take too long, I’m tired.” 

“Yes, sir,” Kenny chuckled. “You know, I like it when you boss me around.”

“Make sure you wash behind your ears,” Adam ordered, severely. 

Adam tapped Kenny’s hip and sent him off towards the bathroom. He turned off the bedroom lights and the nightstand lamp then slid underneath the covers of the bed. It felt like this would be easier if he didn’t have to look at Kenny. Then they wouldn’t have to face anything, just be with each other. The bed was softer than Adam was used to and he fought the mattress to roll over on his side, punching at the pillow to get it shaped right. The ocean rumbled and Adam sighed, exhaling with the tide. He heard the bathroom door open and the latch close behind Kenny. He heard each pad of Kenny’s footsteps on the carpet before the mattress dipped and Kenny slid into bed. Adam rolled over, reaching for Kenny and guiding him closer. Kenny shimmied over and Adam tucked his arm over Kenny’s side, his hand resting over Kenny’s stomach. He pressed his nose into Kenny’s neck and Kenny hooked his calf around Adam’s leg to bring them flush. Every inch of Kenny’s body pressed against Adam. Kenny laid his hand over Adam’s and intertwined their fingers. Kenny rumbled, content, then slid his foot down to put his ice cold toes on Adam’s ankle. Adam jerked, cussing, and Kenny giggled. 

Adam’s eyes fluttered closed. Kenny’s breath as gentle as the ocean. He’d been dreaming about this for months, having Kenny back here. The memory of the hotel room a poor substitute for having him under Adam’s arm. Warm, heavy, his pulse tangled with Adam’s. Adam wiggled his arm underneath Kenny and clutched him tighter. He nuzzled his nose into Kenny’s neck. Here he could say anything. Anything at all, whisper it and pretend Kenny was sleeping, and Kenny could pretend he was sleeping if he didn’t want to hear it. And it’d be like a confession, words lost to empty air, absolution offered to wash them clean. Adam opened his mouth and nothing came out. Instead his lips moved and he mouthed, “I love you.” Without uttering a single sound. Then again, “I love you.” 

“Adam,” Kenny grunted, and Adam almost panicked, wondering for a second if he had actually said those things out loud. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Adam asked, sleep dragged at his mind, making him a little dumb. 

“Staying,” Kenny said. “I know I— I freak-out on you there.”

“It's fine,” Adam whispered. “It happens. Wanna hear a crazy idea I have?”

Kenny shifted, wiggling in Adam’s arms to turn over. Adam grunted when Kenny dug his elbow into his ribs so he could leverage himself onto his opposite side. Kenny buried his face in Adam’s chest and Adam wondered if that was just how he preferred to sleep. Adam rolled onto his back and dragged Kenny with him. He let his fingers play with the ends of Kenny’s hair as the other hand interlaced with Kenny’s on his stomach. Kenny settled himself and Adam licked his lips, just stupid enough to share this crazy idea. 

“Hit me, cowboy,” Kenny ordered. 

“We leave in the morning,” Adam suggested. “I don’t know where to, maybe nowhere specific, but it’s just the two of us. Sleeping in motels, eating shit at dinners, and working the indies— making like fifty bucks a show, so there’s never enough money but we make it work. Maybe we’re a tag-team again or it’s just us in singles. We dominate the competition, earn those dumb little regional belts we used to own. No more stakes, no more crap, just— wrestling, fun as it used to be.”

“We’d be recognized,” Kenny muttered, and Adam remembered the goofy BTE bits he used to shoot down for Kenny. Poking holes in the logic or saying the joke wasn’t funny. All because he was afraid of committing to an idea. Turn about was fair play he guessed. “We could— we could wear masks.”

“You ever wrestle in a mask?” Adam asked. 

“No,” Kenny admitted.

“Sucks,” Adam grunted, “And the moment you did a One-Winged Angel, everyone would know who you are. It’d just be El Generico all over again.”

“We should go horse riding,” Kenny suggested, he yawned. “I haven’t done that in a long time.”

“Next time you’re in Virginia,” Adam promised. “I’ll take you.”

“Mhmm, maybe that should be sooner, rather than later,” Kenny smiled. He settled then and Adam shut-up so he could sleep. In a few moments Kenny breathed easily, and steadily, his eyes closed. Adam twirled a black curl around his finger, absent-minded. 

“I love you,” he said, to the empty room. An observation, a statement of fact, Adam kissed the top of Kenny’s head. This time, he whispered into those curls, “I love you.” 

And then he adjusted himself so he was comfortable in the pillows. Adam sagged, the tension bleeding out of his stiff frame like water. Kenny mumbled softly in his sleep and Adam tucked him close to his side. Thoughts twisted-up in his head, Adam drifted unconscious. Then, when his eyes opened, the room was bright, light spilling in through the thin curtain. The sea raged and the gulls cried. His arm was dead weight, asleep. Adam blinked, lifting his head. In the night, he and Kenny had shifted. Kenny’s head laid on his bicep as he slept. His hand rested on Adam’s chest, fingers crooked. Needing blood flow back in his fingers, Adam slipped his arm out from under Kenny’s head. He sat-up in the bed, careful not to jostle the mattress too much. Adam opened and closed his hand, fingertips tingling painfully. He looked down at Kenny. 

His hair was in total disarray, tangled on the pillows. A little bit of drool welled at the corner of his parted lips and he breathed rough, long, slow. Without Adam, he turned onto his side. Adam slid out of the bed. He found his jeans and changed back into his clothes. Adam stepped into his boots and returned to the kitchen. He rummaged in the fridge, the options were meager. Eggs, ketchup, cheese, milk, and luckily, a pack of bacon— probably stuff Kenny bought specifically for breakfast, based on the large container of protein powder beside the fridge. He poked through the cabinets and found the flour from last night, but also sugar, baking powder, cheap imitation vanilla, and salt. 

Adam was methodical as he cracked eggs to scramble and for pancakes. He whipped-up the batter in a bowl and found the frying pans in a lower drawer. The back burner slow-cooked bacon with a tantalizing sizzle and on a front burner, Adam cooked the pancakes. Making just enough for him and Kenny. He cleaned-up as he went, leaving dishes on the drying rack. He did the eggs last, scrambling them with cheese and pepper, when he heard the water run, indicating Kenny was up and using the bathroom. A few minutes later Kenny wandered into the kitchen, rubbing the heel of his hands over his eyes. He paused in the doorway, gaping as Adam assembled two plates of pancakes, eggs, and bacon.

“Mornin’,” Adam grunted, as he took a knife and fork out of the drawer. He walked over to the table and sat down. 

“You made breakfast? I should invite you over more, geez,” Kenny said. He sat down with his plate. “Did you sleep, okay?”

“Not too bad,” Adam said. He watched as Kenny took a bite of eggs and grinned as Kenny moaned almost obscenely. “Was pretty nice sleeping next to you.”

“Well, cowboy, you can do that anytime you want,” Kenny promised. He tapped his fingers against the table. “So, I guess you’re heading out then?”

“Yeah, I gotta,” Adam said. “I got a seven-hour drive, training and working-out to get on, and like, I’m bleeding money paying my neighbor’s daughter to watch my dogs. But uh, this, thing, last night, it was fun? We should do it again.”

“Including the cuddling?” Kenny asked, propping his chin against his hand. He picked-up a piece of bacon between his fingers and cheekily tore a piece off. “I couldn’t agree more. Especially, if you’re going to cook like this.”

“Definitely the cuddling, you’re a pretty good hand warmer,” Adam nodded. He scrapped the last of the eggs onto his fork and polished it off with some pancake. He stood-up and took his plate to the sink while Kenny finished eating. 

Kenny followed Adam out as he returned to his car. They hugged and Adam settled into the driver seat. He recalled the inane story he spun last night, where they go back to the indies and pretended the past year didn’t happen. It wasn’t fleeting because it was impossible. It was simply too late. As Adam turned the ignition he wondered if he could convince Kenny to come back with him to North Carolina instead. Just hide there until the next Dynamite or something. Steal a little bit more time. He put the car in the reverse and let the thought die under the rear wheels. 

[writingmyimagines]

Shot Through the Heart - Pt 1

Billy Hargrove X Reader

A/N: Hi all, this is my first imagine on this blog and it will in fact be a series. I am still playing with the title, so it may change, but as of now it is from You Give Love a Bad Name by Bon Jovi. This chapter introduces you as a character and establishes where the plot is going, let me know if you have any feedback!

Warning: cursing

Word Count: 1.9k

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You watched as the sun rose, a sleepless night behind you. Your radio hummed in the background, quietly playing Bruce Springsteen, and you turned your attention back to the speckled ceiling waiting for the inevitable. Today was January 10th, the first day of school since you had recessed for winter break. ‘Stupid school,’ you muttered.

Moments later, the alarm blared, signaling your normal 6:20 AM wake up time. And you rolled out of bed, before quickly getting into action. Rolled up jeans, adidas sneakers, hair spray, your fur lined jean jacket, and a bit of lip gloss later and you were ready to go. 

Hurriedly, you ran downstairs as your mother called, “(Y/N), breakfast is ready!” Taking two steps at a time, you hopped down and reached for the plate of eggs and french toast being presented to you. It seems your dad had already left the house given his empty coffee cup and syrup smothered plate. Your younger sister on the other hand was already gobbling down eggs, staring at you before blathering, “Impf alrady rally late.” Distantly, you processed what was said, and began to eat violently fast, glancing at the clock that read 7:03, “Shit.”

“Language! Although you two do need to get out the door.” You couldn’t help, but roll your eyes before inhaling the rest of your plate and running up to kiss your mom on the cheek, a bit of syrup sticking to her skin. You snatched your bag off the hook by the doorway, calling, “I was going to hang out with Britt and Robin today, can you take care of Cassie?”

You hardly waited for the response, swinging open the door and being met with a sharp breeze of cold Indiana air. Distantly, there was some kind of approval and Cassandra ran past you, heading straight for your ‘79 Chevy. She was a bit old and didn’t always run great, but she was yours, and god you loved her. You followed suit, accidentally slamming the door, and immediately revving her up.

The radio hummed on your way to the middle school, dropping Cassie off. Hardly stopping, you ushered her out and yelled, “Have a good day! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t!”

She ran off and you glanced at the clock again, 7:20. So you put the pedal to the metal, screeching into the parking lot at 7:26 like a bat out of hell, your tires having burnt some serious rubber on the turn in. Several shocked faces glanced at you, everyone making their own way to the first day of school this calendar year. You hurried out, knowing that your 7:30 AM chemistry class was at the very end of the building and you would have to hurry up. But by some stroke of luck, one of your dearest friends Brittney caught up to you as you ran into the bustling halls of your high school. She bumped into your shoulder aggressively, “Good to see you too. Don’t tell me that screeching was you in the parking lot?”

You gave out a guilty laugh, before confirming, “Yeah, I guess I was running a little late. New year, I wanted to make sure my hair looked nice.” You gently messed with your carefully styled hair, before she oooh’d at you, “Trying to impress anyone, are you? You know, Damien in your biology class is pretty cute, Robin says he can play guitar too.”

You winked at her, before waving her off, “Nah, gotta focus on finishing college applications! You think I want to be stuck in Indiana for the rest of my life? No thank you.”

“Well with your grades, you should be fine, Miss Soon-to-Be Valedictorian.” You laughed at her, lightly punching her shoulder and whining, “You don’t know that! Don’t put those far off dreams in my head.” 

So yes, you were good at school, very good at school; so good in fact, you were applying to Stanford, Brown, Yale, and Harvard. They were distant dreams, but if anyone in this god forsaken small town had a chance, it was you. This also meant that yes, you guys were nerds, but luckily not outcasts. The three of you didn’t bring enough attention to yourselves that you got bullied, but you weren’t exactly popular either. Or really, anywhere near popular. The closest you had gotten was Tommy H has made a passing comment about Britt’s “rack” once, so yeah, not really your scene.

But you were dragged from your thoughts as the one minute warning bell rang and you and Britt sat down in the dusty chemistry lab room, sadly knowing Robin had band first thing in the morning. And it didn’t take your graying, wheezing instructor but ten seconds to start droning on about balancing chemical reactions and the proper way to go about it. Seems like it would be another exciting day at Hawkins High.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The school day had quickly come to a close and you began making your way to your little trio’s meeting spot; the music room. Your last class was Literature, and you shared it with none of your friends, so you were quietly humming to yourself, making your way to the adjacent arts building when the vice principal stopped you. Mr. Eldridge gave a small smile, before inquiring, “Mrs. (Y/L/N)? Yes, I need to see you in my office really quickly if you have a moment, nothing bad of course, just a little something.”

You tried not to raise your eyebrow at the careful lilt in his voice towards the end of the phrase, almost as if he was hiding something. You pushed a smile onto your features and nodded, quietly following him into the musty office of his. There, a puke green carpet cushioned your steps as you fell into quite possibly the most uncomfortable neon office chair you had ever had the displeasure of being in. 

He rested his bony hands on the oak desk and you watched him questioningly, nodding almost as if urging him to tell you what was going on. He started loudly, “As you know, I am in charge of all student’s academics and well-being here at Hawkins High and as such, I want every single student to do well.” You nodded carefully, wondering why he was telling you all this. “Well, I wanted to try a new program of sorts. You are an exemplary student Ms. (Y/L/N), top of the class, involved in several clubs, engaged in volunteering, and an all around sweet girl.” You smiled a bit more proudly, not hating hearing your own praise. “As such, we figured you would be the best candidate to lift others up with you.” Here is where you started getting suspicious, what on Earth did he mean by that?

Your eyebrows lifted and he continued, “As I mentioned, I want all students to succeed, and unfortunately, some students here don’t take their studies as seriously as you do. So some of the faculty and I thought to do a Student-to-Student program of sorts. Essentially, we’ll be pairing you with a student that is struggling and you will meet with them a couple of days a week. You can study together, offer them tips, perhaps encourage volunteering or extracurriculars? Your job is to try to encourage them to be a better student, and more importantly, a better person.”

Gears in your brain were slowly cranking as you deciphered what this meant. So he wanted you to mentor someone? As if the dead-beats at this school would give a shit, none the less agree to this. It was clear that higher education wasn’t the uhhh, right path for some. 

Yet, he went on, “We wanted to test out this program with you and one other student given your absolutely stunning record. If it goes well, then we can further this program and hopefully improve the lives of all youth that walk through these hallowed halls!” He glanced proudly around his office, glancing longingly at his own high school graduation portrait before glancing back around. He let out a heavy sigh, but perked back up, waiting for your answer.

You weren’t exactly convinced though, this sounded like a lot of effort and to be rewarded with what? You knew that this wasn’t going to be transformative for anyone and was more than likely a waste of time. “I’m sorry sir, but I am not sure I have the time to do this. As you mentioned, my schedule is quite packed and I am in the process of applying to quite a few colleges, as well as balancing my clubs and spending time with family…”

You trailed off, but he interrupted, “Ah, but perhaps I can help that. We can put on your resume that you helped this program get off the ground, mentored another student, proving yourself as a leader. You would be the first student to do something like this in all of Hawkins, maybe even all of Indiana. Aren’t colleges always looking for leadership and initiative?” He had a glint in his eye and you sighed. This would look stellar, and unfortunately, you were lacking a bit in the leadership department. But you would be missing a lot. But none of that would matter if you got into the college of your dreams. ‘Well, it might be for the best.’

“Sir, how often would this be?” And he laughed boisterously, knowing that he had gotten you in. “But a mere two days a week and every other Friday afternoon. Just an hour in the library, nothing you aren’t capable of. And we wanted to run this for a month or two, just to see how it goes.”

You nodded slowly, mulling things over. You would be missing time with your dear friends, but this could very well be the edge you need to get into an Ivy League. Another sigh escaped your lips, and you nodded. “Well sir, sign me up, I’ll do it.”

He nodded, his lips breaking into a large smile and his hands clapping together. It seems that he was more worried about this than he had let on. He chortled, “Amazing, simply amazing Ms. (Y/L/N), you don’t understand how great that is to hear, and I will be happy to write any recommendation letters or help in any way I can. Can you start tomorrow, Tuesday afternoon?”

Well that was quick, and your features showed your surprise, but you nodded. Seems that your schedule was about to change quite a bit. 

“Fantastic! Just go to the library after school and we’ll send in your mentee.”

You nodded again and began to reach for your bag as he was getting up as well. You made a mental note to write this in your planner as your feet lead you to the door. And your heart beat faster, getting nervous at the thought of basically being responsible for another student’s life when you turned back towards this thinning man, and you questioned, “Oh I nearly forgot sir, who should I be looking for tomorrow? Or rather, who will I be working with?”

He took a moment, heading to the door as well when he pursed his lips and you became suspicious immediately. Surely it was gonna be some druggie or someone who just didn’t care, nothing too hard to deal with, you knew the type. But the words that left his mouth stunned you, “You’ll be working with Mr. Billy Hargrove.” And his door slammed shut.

Billy fucking Hargrove. Unbelievable.

[benhardyisdaddy]

the breakup - part 4

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Ben!RogerxReader Word Count: 2,158

(HELLO it me again, here to give u angst :’) the dress and mask above are what i pictured what y/n’s dress and mask looked like but it can be an y t h ing you like oml ily guys sm <3)

You slept terribly that night. You had tossed and turned and exhausted yourself from crying. The fact that Roger had gotten his exes number was eating at you. But then again, why? You were the one who said you should take a break. But he was the one who caused you to want the break. Everything was so confusing. And that kiss. You missed the way he felt against your skin. The familiar feel of his hands was almost extinct. You had curled into a ball that night and eventually fell asleep. You were woken up by a phone call. You slowly wake up and stretch your sore muscles. You blink your eyes open a few times and rub them. Your phone keeps going off. You groan and roll over to grab it.

“Hello?” you ask, clearing your throat.

“Y/n!” says Flynn, with an excited tone.

You flinch away at his loud voice. You were not a morning person.

“Flynn, hey. What time is it?” you ask as you shut your eyes once more.

“It’s exactly 8 am and I have fantastic news to start your morning.”

You open your eyes as he peaks your interest.

“Is that so? What’s up?”

“Well,” he starts. “Do you recall a certain man by the name of Philip Chartier?”

You sit up fast, no longer tired.

“He’s a famous French painter! He’s what inspired me to become an artist! Why?” you ask, your heart racing a bit. Flynn lightly laughs.

“He had seen your work and wants you to create a piece for him! He’s holding a show downtown in five days and wants yours in it. He was impressed!”

Your heart almost stops. Is this really happening? Your biggest idol wanted your painting in his show!

“Flynn,” you whisper. “Are you serious!?”

“Yes! So get started on it. Remember, five days! It might not be enough time, but I know you can do it. I’ll call you tomorrow, yeah?” he asks.

You don’t know what to say. You’re awestruck. Philip Chartier wants you to paint something for his show.

“Yeah,” you whisper and hang up. You stare straight ahead as a huge smile plasters on your face. You fall back on the bed and kick your arms and legs around wildly. This is amazing! This is huge! You have to tell Rog- Oh… You stop and your smile falls. You want to go run in his arms and tell him about everything, but you can’t. Not anymore.

You jump up from bed and throw on your robe. You walk out of your room and look to the couch to see Roger, but he wasn’t there. You walk to the kitchen, but it was empty. He wasn't here. Maybe he left after your fight last night. Maybe he called Heather and stayed with her. Maybe he slept in her bed last night. You roll your eyes at that idea and go to make a pot of coffee, but freeze when your front door opens. Roger walks in with two coffees and a tiny paper bag. You catch his eyes and he looks away. He sits the coffee in front of you and pulls out your favorite bagel from your local bakery. You hesitantly take the coffee and look to Rog.

“Thank you.” you say quietly.

Roger says nothing as he digs through the bag. You awkwardly pick at your bagel as the two of you stand in silence. You sip your coffee and finally speak up.

“I have good news.” you say, perking up.

He says nothing. He doesn’t even look at you. Your smile drops. You really thought he would be interested. But no. You’re getting the silent treatment.

“It’s about my paintings.” you continue, but still nothing. You tense your jaw as you get upset.

“Really? The silent treatment?” you ask.

He finally looks up, his face emotionless.

“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’. “You don’t think I care, so I’m gonna show you what not caring looks like. I don’t care about your job or the good news. How’s that?”

You flinch at his harsh words. You sit down your coffee hard and walk to the living room.

“My stupid job, remember?” you say loudly. Roger rolls his eyes, but before he can say anything, a loud knock is at your door. You both turn your heads toward it and look at each other. You walk up and slowly open it. In walks the boys and Mary. They’re all talking at once and Mary wraps an arm around yours.

“What’s going on?” shouts Roger above their voices.

“I’m glad you asked,” says Fred smiling. “We’ve been invited to a party, darling. All of us!” he says, looking to you. You furrow your brows in confusion.

“What party?” asks Rog.

John takes a step forward.

“It’s a masquerade actually. Not a party. Our management is hosting it for all of us.” he says.

“It’s suppose to be amazing!” says Bri.

Roger looks to you then back to the boys.

“When is it?” he asks.

Freddie smiles.

“Tonight.”

_________________________

A masquerade. Fancy dresses and masks. A party where you had to guess who is who and walk around like an idiot. Something you didn’t like to do.

“I don’t have to go!” you whine to Mary and Freddie.

You all are at a boutique as you search for the perfect gown.

“You don’t have to go, but we want you to go.” says Mary as she pulls up a beautiful pink dress from the rack.

“We’ve been searching for hours.” you groan loudly.

Freddie turns to you and places his hands on his hips.

“I’ve never met a girl who hates shopping more than you do!” he says, half laughing.

“I don’t hate shopping, I just… Okay, I hate shopping.” You all laugh.

You had been shopping for at least five hours now. You’ve been to 8 different stores and so far no success. You had your mask picked out at least. You opted for a simple black one that flattered your face. You just wanted a simple dress as well, nothing that will show you off too much. You did not want to be the center of attention at this god forsaken event. Fred and Mary were discussing the beautiful pink dress she was going to buy when something caught your eye.

Your hand reached for it and you pulled it from the rack. You gasped by how beautiful the dress was. It was dark, flowy and sparkly. Three of your favorite things. Mary and Fred walk over to you and they gasp as well.

“Oh, y/n,” says Mary.

“It’s you.” says Fred. You look up to him and smile. It was you.

_________________________________________

6 PM was approaching fast. You had your beautiful gown on and couldn’t stop staring at it in the mirror. It truly was breathtaking. Your mask was placed on your face and your hair was pinned up, with loose curls falling down. You looked like something out of a fairy tale. Hopefully prince charming will return your glass slipper.

You glance at yourself once more before walking to the living room. Roger stood with his back facing you as he situated his bow tie. He had chosen a black and white tuxedo for tonight's event. He slowly turned to face you and he stares you up and down. His mask is simple like yours, but white. His hands drop from his tie as he takes you in. Your face turns hot as you half smile. His jaw tenses as he looks down to the floor and then turns to walk away from you. He grabs his coat and walks out of the apartment, leaving you there alone.

Your heart drops at his sudden actions. You look around and exhale. So that’s how it’s gonna be. You grab your purse and lock the door behind you. You walk in front of your building and spot a long black limousine waiting in front of you. A window rolls down and John’s head sticks out.

“Wow!” he says, looking you up and down. “Your chariot awaits you, my dear.”

He opens up the door and you can’t help but smile. You quickly slide in and are greeted by everyone. Brian’s eyes open wide at the sight of you.

“Wow,” he whispers. “You look beautiful, y/n.” he says.

“Thank you, Bri.” you say blushing. You look over to Roger and he quickly looks away. You feel Mary place a hand on your leg and squeeze it reassuringly.

“Tonight will be fun!” she exclaimed. Everyone cheers with her.

__________________________

You finally arrive to the event as Brian helps you out of the limo. You look up at the giant mansion standing before you. It’s white and possibly the largest house you’ve ever seen in your life. Multiple cars were pulling up in the roundabout driveway. They were all dressed in extravagant gowns and some had on masks that were ridiculous. Suddenly your mask felt very sad compared to theirs. You look down and take a step forward. Mary grabs your hand and smiles. You look back to Roger, but he’s already watching you. You turn around and try to clear your head.

You walk up several steps when suddenly a man dressed in a tuxedo rushes to you. He has a serious look on his face as he greets you.

“May I take your purse and coat, madame’s?” he asks Mary and you.

“Oh, uh sure!” you say back, handing him your stuff. He slightly bows and takes a step back allowing you to proceed inside. When you enter the doors, classical music fills the air. A giant ballroom is decorated in gold and white. It’s like something out of the movies. Diamond chandeliers cover the ceiling as gold designs fill up the walls. The middle of the room is filled with people dancing, gliding back and forth. 

A man walks up to you with a golden tray in his hand. He bows his head as he says nothing, but holds up the tray. Tall glasses filled with bubbling champagne stare at you. You and Mary take one and thank him. He walks away as you sip the sweet drink. You turn and watch as the boys are swept away by people that want to talk to them. You attempt to stay close to Mary, but Freddie ushers her over to him as he introduced her to someone. You try to look for Roger, but you can’t spot him. There are so many men here wearing a black and white tux. You squeeze your way to the back wall and slowly sip your drink. You watch everyone when suddenly someone stands next to you.

“You can’t possibly be here alone.”

You look up and man is smiling, looking down at you. He has piercing green eyes and a purple mask covering some of his face, but you can still tell he was gorgeous. You return a smile.

“I’m not,” you say back. “I’m here with my friends.” He nods.

“And where are these friends of yours? Why are you alone by a wall?” he asks, laughing.

“They’re all talking to people. Something I very much don’t like to do.” You finish your drink.

“Ahhh, that makes sense then.”

You look around and finally spot Roger. He had a glass of champagne in his hand and he’s talking to a blonde that’s in a very short black dress. You know deep down you shouldn’t be jealous, but you were.

“Would you like to dance?” asks the man.

“Yes!” you say a little too quickly.

He chuckles at your eagerness and takes your hand. You place your drink down and follow him. He places a hand on your hip and the other in yours. Your free hand is on his shoulder as the two of you start moving. You feel someone watching you, but you don’t dare to look. You keep your focus on the man instead. He smiles.

“Roy,” he says.

“Y/n,” you say back.

“Well, y/n,” he starts. “You look absolutely beautiful if I might say.”

You blush and look down.

“Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

Roy laughs at this as you lean even closer to him. You peer over at Roger who’s now whispering something in the blondes ear, that makes her giggle. You look away and sigh.

“So, y/n,” says Roy. “Would you like to go back to my place?” he whispers.

You look back to Roger and tense your jaw.

“Yes.” you say, still staring at him. It’s as if he had heard the two of you, because as you said yes, his eyes looked over and locked with yours. You drop your hand and grab Roy’s as the two of you start walking to the exit, your eyes never leaving Roger’s.

Two can play at this game.

Tag List: @sweetlygwilym @rogerinascigarette @basics-andthesimplelife @myprincesoftheuniverse @scoobydoosbooty @through-faith @beanut-putter @pg-taylor-fltchr @shadycupcakefox @loudxxstar @lovethis-lovethat @amostpeculiarmademoisellerp

[blouisparadise]

We received an anon request for bottom Louis/top Harry fics that are smutty and 15k words or less, so here you go! These are in order by length.

Enjoy this VERY long rec list!!

1) Give and Take | Explicit | 1837 words

Sometimes Louis just needs.

2) Precious Little Diamond (I’ll Give It All To You) | Explicit | 2044 words

Alpha!Harry/omega!Louis PWP written for this textpost: Established relationship H/L with alpha!Harry just popping his knot in omega!louis and it’s his favourite part; just laying down and cuddling as they mate but louis just wriggles around in his lap until he can grab his xbox controller and starts playing video games with Harry still inside him and Harry’s like “??!?????!???!!!???” And louis’ like “oh shush it takes forever” and scores a goal on the game

3) Lips Are Like The Galaxy’s Edge | Explicit | 2360 words

Harry licks over Louis’ hole slowly, deliberately, and his tongue is like velvet and Louis’ skin is burning at every junction where Harry touches him and it’s all so good he thinks he might cry. He licks a few more times, moaning softly like he’s relishing the taste of Louis and that’s just, well, fuck.

4) Louder Louder | Explicit | 2931 words

There's really only one way to get Louis out of a mood this terrible, and Harry is prepared to sacrifice his entire evening if necessary.

5) Reckless | Explicit | 3028 words

Harry thinks it's criminal, the way Louis looks in his suit, sharp and expensive.

The feeling's mutual, judging by the way that (at his mother's wedding, no less) Louis leans in and says, "I bet you can fuck me without ruining that suit."

Harry does his best.

6) Handprints And Good Grips | Explicit | 3330 words

Harry wants to pull them down and suck him off. Harry wants to never take them off and eat him out over the lace. Harry wants to push them aside and fuck the imprint right into Louis’ body.

7) Lagrangian Point | Explicit | 4055 words

They find each other again the night of Valentine's Day.

8) It’s Your Soul That I’m Caught In Yet You Don’t Hear Me Call Your Name | Mature | 4433 words

The one in which Harry goes out for a run in the early morning rain without telling Louis and Louis wakes up alone, cold and needy.

9) Painless With Immense Distance | Not Rated | 3793 words

“You know when we talked about kinks and stuff awhile back and you said you wanted to try something?” Harry continues with a devious grin. Louis’s a bit lost and he tries to think about exactly what Harry is thinking about which honestly could be a handful of things.

“Prostate massage?” Harry asks like it’s as common as the sky is blue.

10) All That Glitters Is Gold | Explicit | 4505 words

Louis is an exotic dancer in a club that is really, really not Harry's scene, but there's something about gold skin shimmering with glitter and a perfect bum in tiny shorts swaying around on a stripper pole that's simply magnetic. If shy little Harry becomes a regular here, then that's his business. And if Louis develops a soft spot for his favorite gentlemanly patron, then that's his business too.

11) Feel The Need | Explicit  | 4898 words

Louis and Harry attend Liam's Halloween party. Risky Business ensues.

12) In That Bright White Noise | Explicit | 5060 words

Blind dates are usually destined to go terribly, so Louis doesn't exactly trust his friends when they say they've set him up with Gemma's younger brother, Harry, at an evening bonfire they're attending. Luckily, Harry's much hotter and kinder than Louis thought he'd be, which is a relief. He's also really fucking good at sex, which is just a wonderful bonus.

13) Hook’s Intention | Explicit | 5156 words

Harry hadn’t realized what, exactly, being the Captain Hook to Louis’ Peter Pan would entail.

14) Just Like Live Wires | Explicit | 5427 words

Harry climbs into Louis' bed when he's cold. Louis pines.

15) Oops, I Like You | Explicit | 5571 words

He thrives in the attention, at the knowledge he makes these boys with their tattooed dicks and pierced whatevers, so hot and bothered. These boys with their confident smirks and broad shoulders and hands, touching Louis wherever they can. Louis reduces them all to a wet, moaning, mess, every time.

Usually he doesn’t see those guys again. It’s not generally part of the plan.

But then Harry tightens his grip on the back of Louis’ neck and Louis ducks his head to taste the sweat beading under Harry’s chin, kissing the ink curling up Harry’s neck, then kissing his way down to get his mouth on the god forsaken nipple piercings. He listens to the way Harry breathes his name, and for the first time silently asks, Can I keep him?

16) Incalescent | Explicit | 5649 words

The onset of heat is something Louis still hasn’t learned to recognize.

17) Folded Up All Pretty (Fit Into You) | Explicit | 5655 words

“Missed me?” Harry laughs into his mouth, and it ought to be awkward with the way Louis’ tongue pushes at his teeth and the stretched out corners of his mouth, but really, it isn’t.

18) ‘Cause Lately I’ve Been Waking Up Alone | Explicit / 5667 words

Harry gives Louis a very special sex toy for an early birthday present, and Louis uses it on Skype when Harry's in LA.

19) Power Inside | Explicit | 5861 words

Louis wrinkles his nose and pokes Harry again. “You want a baby,” he repeats.

Again, Harry frowns. “Uh, yeah, Lou, I want a baby. So do you.”

Where is this even going. Harry honestly has no clue.

Abruptly, Louis stops frowning and practically throws himself off of Harry, splaying himself out on his side of the bed, arms spread wide. “Okay. Let’s make a baby, then.”

Can eyebrows get permanently attached to a hairline? Harry has a feeling he’s going to find out. “You do realize - ” he starts.

“Yes, Harry, I realize,” Louis says, stroking his fingers over the inside of his own thigh, ruking his shorts up. “You gonna shut up about it and give me a baby or am I gonna have to go out and find someone else to fulfill my deepest desires?”

He’s a nutjob. He’s a complete nutjob. Harry’s in love with a complete nutjob.

20) Throw Me In The Deep End | Mature | 5914 words

The one where Harry is a very ferocious pirate captain and Louis is a mighty scoundrel in need of some good dicking.

21) Heart Beats Slow (I Wish You) | Explicit | 6011 words

The one where Louis loves panties and Harry loves Louis.

22) Spark A New Flame | Explicit | 6100 words

Louis is nineteen, Harry is twenty-one, and it's not all that hard to figure out what happens when they both go clubbing.

23) Want It All The Time, Need It Every Day (Explicit | 6306 words

Louis visits LA a week before the boys head to Australia for On The Road Again.

He and Harry have some catching up to do.

24) Like You Hate Me | Explicit | 6541 words

“You have poor taste for someone with the last name Styles,” he says, turning to show the back of his pants to Harry—the pants Harry had just stitched his name across last night to keep this type of thing from happening again.

Of course, he’s accomplished nothing but indirectly making himself pop a stiffy over Louis fucking Tomlinson.

25) You Drive Me Wild (You Know You Do) | Explicit | 6632 words

Louis flirts with the Australian interviewers and Harry gets possessive.

26) Once Like A Spark | Explicit | 6789 words

Louis is a bartender, and Harry is just his type.

27) Glimpse Of The Silhouettes | Explicit | 7181 words

Harry isn't sure what the rules are for this. It's hard to believe that there are any, that's there's a handbook just waiting for him to buy: why is my best mate getting hard in my lap when I touch his arse?

28) Back Where I Belong | Explicit | 7217 words

Harry’s trying to have a conversation with Nick, who he hasn’t seen in nearly three months, but the way Nick’s eyes keep darting over his shoulder every few seconds is quite distracting.

It’s ironic, because at least a quarter of the reason that he’s even talking to Nick in the first place is because he needs a distraction. He’s all too aware of exactly what’s going on behind his back.

Nick is the one who finally brings it up. “Do you think he’s doing it to spite you?”

“He’s definitely doing it to spite me,” Harry answers tightly, resisting the urge to crane his neck around so he can see. He clutches his drink a little tighter, trying to keep his tenuous control over his own movements.

29) There’s Magic In This Life | Explicit | 7326 words

Harry comes out to the band as bisexual on a Tuesday.

30) A Virgin To That Money | Explicit | 7366 words

AU. Harry and Louis are broke university students who hate each other and make a sex tape. (In which Louis gets fucked a lot, Harry can't find the camera, and the road to falling in love is different for everyone.)

31) That Ugly Ass Yellow Shirt | Explicit | 7502 words | Sequel 1 | Sequel 2 | Sequel 3

"This," says Louis, holding up a shirt from the box, "is the ugliest fucking shirt I've ever seen."

32) Rated R | Explicit | 7635 words

Louis gifts Harry with a surprise sex tape, and it accidentally makes its way into Harry's family Christmas party. Ridiculousness ensues.

33) Read You Like A Book | Explicit | 8089 words

Louis realises Harry can read his mind. He'll do anything to make Harry admit it. Set during the North American leg of the WWA tour.

34) Love To Make Him Moan | Explicit | 8106 words

Note: This fic is locked to AO3 users.

They fuck like they're sex starved, when they're really, really not.

35) Cease the Day | Explicit | 8195 words

In which 1D Day takes on a whole new meaning.

Instead of a seven hour livestream, the One Direction team deem it more profitable to offer an entire day spent with any one member of the band for the highest bidder. What happens when the same buyer wins both Louis and Harry for a day?

36) Forever, Uninterrupted | Explicit | 8578 words

Harry finds a mysterious picture in Louis' bag one night and drives himself crazy over it. It's definitely not what he thinks.

37) Makes Perfect | Explicit | 8610 words

"What if you practiced on like, a mannequin?" Louis presses. "Or one of those blow up sex dolls? Or even just like, I don't know, a pillow or something. Whatever it'd fit around."

Harry tilts his head thoughtfully, curls catching the light so entrancingly that Louis finds himself reaching up to push his fingers through them. "It's different, though, innit? When it's a real person. A pillow won't snog me."

"Why should it?" says Louis. "You can't even take its bra off."

38) Make A Run, Cause Some Rebellion | Explicit | 8824 words

As a general rule, kitten hybrids are small and disinterested in what other people want them to do, slightly evil and at least a little manipulative. Louis prides himself on being all of those things to varying degrees, but especially on being uninterested in what other people tell him to do. He’s still human goddammit, despite his pointy ears and penchant for curling up in the sun and taking naps.

He’s going about his daily business, knocking things over where he sees fit and leaving a trail of mess in his wake. As exasperated as it makes Liam he’s used to it by now, having shared a flat with Louis for almost three years now, and if Louis whines enough he’ll even clean up after him. It’s a great life, really.

With the exception of Liam’s stupid, broad shouldered, entirely too big mate, the one who always comes over to watch sports with him. Louis hates that guy. His hair is always greasy and he brings weird hipster beer with him when he comes that tastes like shit. And he won’t even let Louis have any of it, either. The only reason Louis even knows what it tastes like is because one time he stole a bottle from the fridge and fled to his room before Harry could catch him.

39) Been Gone Way Too Long | Explicit | 8836 words

“This can’t be happening,” Louis says, banging his hand against the window. “This seriously can’t be happening right now.”

Things like this only happen in the movies. Things like this don’t happen in real life. There’s no way that he’s seriously been snowed in. There’s no way that the heating is broken. There’s no way that it’s going to take upwards of twenty-four hours and probably a lot longer for the storm to break and someone to come and rescue them.

“Just sit down, Louis,” Harry sighs from somewhere behind him. He sounds miserable, like he’s already feeling the cold.

Louis whirls around and points a finger at him. “Did you plan this?” he demands a little hysterically. He regrets the question as soon as it’s out of his mouth, but he thinks he’s got a valid point. It’s not like this storm just came out of nowhere - it has to have been on the news for a couple of days, at least. Plenty of time for Harry to have canceled this excursion.

40) We Wreak Havoc With Our Hearts | Explicit | 9417 words

Harry finds that he can't keep things separate; neither can Louis.

41) Come A Little Closer | Explicit | 9867 words

Louis puts on lingerie. It's not, like, a thing.

42) Just Walk My Way | Explicit | 10271 words

Louis is a Victoria's Secret Angel, and Harry is the main act of the night.

43) Anything Goes | Explicit | 10275 words

Harry probably shouldn't be amused that Louis has a death grip on his hand and is dragging away from an event that, you know, they should be at. And he still probably shouldn't have that god awful smirk plastered to his face when Louis shoves him into the bathroom and steps in before locking the door.

44) You Are My Favorite Place | Explicit | 10347 words

It had gutted Harry when he saw the headlines splashed across the gossip rags, the ones proclaiming the house he planned to make their home in LA was a bachelor pad. With both of them doing more producing and writing, Harry knew that they would need a place here so they wouldn't have to travel so much. As soon as he'd seen it and how remote it was, he knew it would be perfect.

It was so much more than some stupid bachelor pad.

45) Right Side of the Wrong Bed | Explicit | 10902 words

The one where Louis wakes up on the wrong couch only to meet his future husband (even if Harry doesn't know it yet).

46) Bite | Explicit | 10980 words

Louis is a vampire hunter, and Harry is too happy being his prey.

47) The Sweat On Your Skin | Explicit | 11014 words

Louis is certain there's no better way to come down from a post-gym high than a naked romp in the bed with his favorite workout partner.

48) Gnossiene | Explicit | 11276 words

Louis sets a challenge for himself; it gets a bit out of hand.

49) Can’t Blame Gravity | Explicit | 11931 words

Note: Mentions of bottom Harry.

That time in 2015, when Harry went MIA around Louis’ birthday.

50) End Of The World Tonight | Explicit | 12069 words

“You remember when you told me that you wanted to live with me for the rest of your life?” Louis asks. His voice trembles a bit, exposing exactly how much he hates what he’s about to do. How much he wishes that he wasn’t about to do it.

“I remember,” Harry says. His expression is a little lost, like he thinks that they’re about to have a fight and he’s not sure what they’re supposed to be fighting about. Louis closes his eyes because he has to, has to take a second to regain his courage. He can’t keep doing this. He can’t keep suffering, can’t keep killing himself trying to hide this. He’s ready. He’s been ready for a long time.

51) Won’t See It Coming Til It’s Already Gone | Explicit | 12631 words

“Tell me that this is a fake,” Peter says, slapping a handful of papers against Louis’ chest. He says something else, something loud and demanding, barely even pausing for a breath, but Louis doesn’t hear it. All he hears is the sound of his own breathing, the sound of his own heartbeat.

Because this - this looks like a marriage certificate.

For a minute, everything stills, quiets. Louis drags his eyes up, meets Harry’s gaze, fixed on him.

Then the noise is back, shouting voices clamoring to be heard over each other, and Harry is still staring at him.

The ring that Louis hadn’t been able to stop noticing in the loo weighs heavily on his hand. His left hand.

52) Doesn’t Have To Be A Real Thing | Explicit | 12532 words

In which Harry helps Louis get over his ex and it kind of becomes a regular thing. It’s totally casual – they have an understanding. But what happens to Harry when Nick reappears in Louis’ life?

53) Let’s Take the World By Storm | Explicit | 14656 words

Harry lifts his head off Louis' chest to look at Louis' face. "What's that supposed to mean?"

“I don’t know, but our sex life feels a bit boring, ‘sall,” Louis says, completely avoiding eye contact.

“Boring.” Harry says flatly. He doesn’t say anything more, and Louis looks up to see that Harry seems to be mulling it over.

“Yeah, boring," Louis says, and keeps talking before Harry can pipe up. “I mean, think about it. We’ve been dating since X Factor, and now things are starting to drag a bit. We don’t even have the time for handjobs anymore, much less actual sex.”

54) Put It On Me | Explicit | 14890 words

Harry's bachelor party doesn't go as planned.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[missjugheadjones]

Wasn’t It You And Me Against The World?

Word Count: 1510

    A/N: here was some requested angst! i tried to make the ending kind of open ended so you could make up your own decision. Hope you enjoy! Much love

MasterList

    "Y/N?" Veronica called, closing the front door behind her. She wandered around the girls' house and made her way to her bedroom, slowly opening the door. She found her sleeping peacefully in her bed, her (Y/H/C) hair sprawled out across her pillow and her face buried in her comforter. Veronica smiled softly at the sight, she looked so happy and she felt bad that she was about to ruin it. She didn't want to do it, but Y/N deserved to know, she had been lied to long enough.

    "Y/N?" Veronica whispered, and the girl stirred in her sleep.

    "Hmmm?"

     "You need to wake up, I have to tell you something." Veronica said, and Y/N slowly sat up, stretching and yawning.

    "What's so important it couldn't have waited until I had woken up on my own?" she asked, slightly annoyed. Veronica gave a small laugh, and sat on the edge of her bed.

    "Its about Jughead." She said softly, and Y/Ns face fell, worry taking over.

    "Oh my god, is he okay?" Veronica took Y/Ns hand in hers and sighed, nodding her head. "Then what's going on?"

    "Sweetie, I know that you and Jughead have been dating for a very long while..." Veronica started, and Y/N nodded her head.

    "Yeah, we have. We love each other very much. I'm in love with him." she replied, smiling softly to herself, and Veronicas face fell.

    "Y/N, I hate that I have to be the one to give you this news... the only one who knows that I'm doing this is Kevin, who said he wanted to be here for you but this morning his dad dragged him to the station for some extra hands on deck. Everyone else wanted to keep this a secret, they said because it was done and over with there was no need for you to know and get hurt." Veronica said, rubbing circles on the Y/Ns hand, and she looked confused at the raven-haired girl in front of her.

    "Veronica, whats going on?" she asked.

    "Y/N, sweetie, Jughead-" Just then Y/Ns phone started to ring, and she picked it up off the bed and looked at the caller ID.

    "Its Jughead." She said, and Veronica looked worriedly at the girl. "I'm going to answer it."

    "Put it on speaker please." Veronica asked, and Y/N agreed.

    "Hey Juggie." She said, placing the phone on the bed in between her and Veronica.

    "Is Veronica with you?"

    "Well Good Morning to you too. And yes, she is."

    "What are you two doing?" he asked, and Y/N and Veronica could tell he was worried.

    "We're about to have a very important talk, so if you could get off the phone Jughead, that would be great." Veronica called out, and Y/N shot her another confused look.

    "Veronica, please don't do this. At least lets talk about this before we make a decision we might regret." He pleaded and Veronica rolled her eyes.

    "Don't you think you've already made one of those? Its time to man up and admit your wrong doings Jughead, she deserves to know." She snapped.

    "Someone better tell me what the hell is going on, right now!" Y/N yelled, and the two raven-haired kids fell silent, both waiting for the other one to speak. They sat there not speaking for a minute, awkwardly and uncomfortably.

    "Veronica please don-"

    "Jughead cheated on you, Y/N." Veronica quickly spat out, and Y/N felt as her heart sank to her stomach. She looked to Veronica, and her eyes started to spill with tears but no sound came out.

    "Y/N, it was just once and it was a mistake. I am so sorry." He said from the other side of the phone, and anybody listening could obviously tell he was crying.

    "With Betty. They got together one night after you and Jughead had a fight and things...escalated." Veronica added, and Y/Ns face fell into her hands.

    "Y/N please say something. Anything?" he sobbed.

    "Juggie, it's going to be okay..." Bettys voice came from the other side of the phone, barely a whisper and it set Y/N off.

    "Oh, so she's with you right now too?" she asked angrily, and Veronica grabbed hold of Y/Ns hand, but she quickly ripped it away.

    "She's here because Archie called us saying that Veronica was on her way to tell you. Archie is here too." He sniffled."Y/N, please listen to me, it was a mistake, a one-time thing that I regret whole heartedly. You must know that I love you, so very much and that you're the best thing to happen to me. If I were to lose you, I don't know what I would do with myself. You are the only thing in this world keeping me sane and I- I can't lose that. We were in love, remember. You and me against the world?"  he said, and Y/N broke out in an audible sob. "You and me against the world? You promised."

    "And you promised me that you loved me." Y/N spat out angrily, her words slightly slurred by her crying.

    "I do love you, I always will." It was his turn to let out an audible cry, and Y/N shook her head.

    "I don't think you do. You went out and cheated on me with- with Betty. I am in love with you Jughead, madly in love, and you go and do me like this? We had plans together, we had dreams together, we were going to get engaged right after high school, remember? We were going to move far away from this god forsaken town and we were going to start over, you and me against the world! But now all of that's ruined!" she cried, and Veronica moved over on the bed to hold the crying girl. "And you didn't even love me enough to tell me yourself, not even enough to tell me in person. And Betty, we were so close and- and I can't trust either of you anymore!" she buried her head in Veronicas shirt, holding onto the girl who Y/N felt was the only true friend she had, and Veronica smoothed her hair.

    "It doesn't have to be ruined, I still want those things more than anything, I still want to be with you. Please, I am so so sorry. Just, give me on more chance, that's all I need. One more to make it right, we can do it right this time." He pleaded, and Y/N shook in Veronicas arms.

    "I think its time I hang up the phone now, Jughead. Give it some time, let her think." Veronica said, reaching for the end call button.

    "Veronica please don't hang up, I need to know her and I are okay, I need to know if I still have my princess by my side. I can't lose-"  His voice fell silent, and Veronica threw the phone onto the desk chair, far away from her and the crying girl.

    "Shh, I know. You're going to be okay at the end of this, I promise. You're so strong." Veronica soothed. She sat there an hour with the girl, running her hands through her hair and trying to calm her down, ignoring the tens of calls coming in. After her sobs had quieted down, Y/N sat up slowly, running her hand through her hair, and wiping tears from her face. They sat there in silence for a few minutes, until Y/N finally spoke up.

    "I don't know what I'm going to do. I love him so damn much, but I hurt so bad." She said, sniffling, a tear falling down her face again.

    "He loves you too, it's obvious, but what he did is hard to forgive. I can't tell you what to do on this one, this is something for you to decide." Veronica whispered and Y/N nodded her head sadly. "But, who says you need to decide now? I brought ice cream over when I came, and I placed it in the freezer, so it should be cold. How about we watch some movies?" Veronica asked.

    "Sounds good, thank you Veronica. I really appreciate you." She said, and Veronica pulled her into a hug.

    "I appreciate you too. And I will always be here, okay?" she asked, and Y/N nodded. "Okay, now lets go watch some movies." Veronica said, jumping off the bed and making her way out of the room. Y/N stood from her bed and walked over to the desk chair, picking up her phone and looking at the many missed phone calls and texts from Jughead. She opened up her messages with him and typed out a text, throwing it back on the chair and making her way out of the room to Veronica.

To Juggie <3 :) – We need to talk, face to face. I've made my decision.

Tag List:

@do-not-call-me-sunshine@gelattoes@xbobaaa@katshrev@farmfreshcoldsprouts@sgarrett49@always-chocolate@nadya0128@spooky-brendons-butt @rainbows-and-glitter-bitch@lost-in-wonderland-x@aezthetically @mrs-jughead-jones @nafa1604

[lesserfandomappreciation]

reader is a mermaid/merman as they got lost from the great sea, they end up in Zora's Domain, when they bump in to Prince Sidon, seeing as he is a shark they are scared at first but Prince Sidon are interesed in what they are, slowly they begin to trust Prince Sidon, so when Sidon ask them to meet there father, they get fluttered because they can't stand on her tail, and afther that fluff happen if you don't mind

Hey darling! I noticed you mentioned “her tail” on the request, but used mostly gender neutral pronouns elsewhere. So for now, I’m going to stick to gender neutral, but if you want me to change that, just say so and I can do some edits. Also, this is why I took so long yesterday, it wound up going for a lot longer than what I expected. if I get enough requests for it, I might consider making it a series in the future, it was a lot of fun to write! Hope you like it, I was psyched to write this!

-Mod Pinks

Mermaid/man s/o lost in the rivers (Sidon) (Warning: Mild Cursing)

No. No no no no nO NO!

Again the angry waves of the sea slammed down on them, forcing them deeper into the new territory than they had ever dared to go, all while the river tried to shove them back out to the treacherous sea.

A simple mission to find special river herbs to make some medicine, that’s all it was supposed to be. They hadn’t meant to take so long. They hadn’t seen the storm, how could they have known what was to come. 

More waves crashed heavily and they found themselves swimming harder upstream, trying to escape the dangerous waters. Suddenly, they felt themselves start to swirl. Oh no- the river joined with another, and the current propelled them uncontrollably away from the sea, and all they could do was scream and hope for the best, as the current dragged them further and further from the sea. 

That had been nearly 2 weeks ago, and ever since then, (Name) had been objectively and fully lost in these new waters. They had no idea where they were, and the last time they stuck their head out of the water, they had been attacked by the strangest green and red creatures they’d ever have the displeasure of coming across. 

Thanks the Wave-Bringer that they weren’t due back to their home for another 2 months- they had left on an expedition to get and study new medicinal herbs, and while (Name) couldn’t argue that the objective was certainly well-over completed, they longed to find the exit so as to be back in waters they knew.

Couldn’t deny that these new waters had piqued a bit of their interest. They were much sweeter, and the fish in them were as well, so starvation was far from a problem. And the sights in them-! Why, whenever they stuck their head out of the water and weren’t immediately chased away, they’d see sights they’d never imagine before. Green luscious mounds of some sort of plant, boulders so tall they looked like they could reach the sky- and beneath the river, scores of fish and plants they wished they had the time to study.

Perhaps when they managed to find their way out, they’d have to come back to map and study everything specifically in the rivers- there was so much to study and see and rUN AND AVOID IS THAT AN OCTOPUS FIRING BOULDERS AT THEM HELLS NO RETREAT RETREAT!!!! 

Time waits for no man, and right now (Name) assumed life waited for no lost merfolk who were about to possibly die, so with all their might they swam in spirals away from the horrendous creature of death, searching for a place to hid- THERE! With surprising speed, they rushed to a little hole in the side of the river, relieved they found shelter at such a time of fear- WHUMP.

Why was the Universe so vindictive? Did they unknowingly kill some orphan’s best seahorse on accident in another life to deserve this- this- HUMILIATION.

Twisting and turning, shoving and heaving, (Name) faced the terrible realization that there was no way in hell their lower half was going to fit. Coincidentally, there was no way their upper half was going to be easy to dislodge from the hole, not within their lifespan at least.

Damn it. They were going to die from getting a direct hit from a rock octopus to the ass after getting stuck in a damn hole. Maybe it was for the best that they were lost alone, goodness knows that if there were living witnesses they’d have to haunt their ass to ensure their silence.

Good bye, beautiful world. May the Wave-bringer bring their soul back to the sea-

Was that blood they smelled? Why did they smell blood? Why wasn’t it there own, did the octopus managed to hit itself oH GOODNESS WHY WERE THERE A PAIR OF HANDS ON THEIR TAIL?!

“Looks like you got yourself in a bit of a bind, friend.” Huh? “Don’t worry, I’ll have you out in a moment.” Rescue..? People?! Oh thank you Wave-bringer! Her temple was going to get a big donation of fish the second she got back for sending them a rescuer! (Name) excitedly pushed their hands against the dirt, trying to help their hero dislodge them from their badly-chosen prison, shoving and pushing with all their might as they felt as if their tail was being pulled out of existence. Just a bit more-!!!!

Whump. Freedom! Sweet glorious freedom! They heard a gasp behind them- right, the owner of the two hands still on their tail, they best turn and thank them for helping… them.

Huh. Suddenly, the rock octopus made a lot more sense. After all, could they really fault the poor creatures for having to evolve the ability to toss boulders when tHE SHARKS IN THESE WATERS SOMEHOW KEPT THEIR ORIGINAL BODY BUT ALSO GREW A TORSO WITH ARMS AND TWO EXTRA TAILS.

“H…Wha-” ARE THOSE SHARP TEETH NOPE NOPE NOPE THEY ARE NOT ABOUT TO BE DINNER TO A GODS-FORSAKEN GIANT SHARK PERSON WITH TWO TAILS NO SIR. 

“Hey! Wait-!” Nope nope they were out of there, twisting in it’s grasp quickly forcing it to let go as (Name) booked it down the river, continuing the way they were going with much more rejuvenated vigor and determination than before. A trail of bubbles was all they left behind them as they swam with everything they had, praying they lost that…that….shudder Shark-being. If they ever made it back to the ocean, they would leave that part out. No need for stupid idiots to call them a liar over this, they wouldn’t believe them anyway.

Especially the part where they kept running into the creature for days on end. Every day, at least once, or sometimes unfortunately twice, they’d spot the red and immediately start swimming until their fins couldn’t move an inch, escaping the teeth just barely. Sometimes the creature would be strange, and throw a fish at them, as if trying to feed them right before they ran off. Other times, (Name) would wake from a daydream to see it swimming alongside them, smiling and watching. Those days were particularly terrifying. 

They hated to admit it though- they had grown somewhat used to seeing the red streak, and was actually growing - dare they say it- attached to strange little being. It was at least a presence they could interact with for a few moments everyday. 

Which made today so strange. No red, no sign of it anywhere. They should have been relieved, but they couldn’t shake the feeling that it was nearby, waiting, watching, for a chance to strike. Hours passed, and finally, finally, they no longer felt the sense of dread upon them, and they stopped…somewhere in the river. At least they weren’t retracing their steps, that’s the good news. They looked around them, listened and observed for what must have been an hour at least, waiting for anything, any signal to book it.

There was none.Whew.

But it was late. The shadows of night crept upon them, and if a sharkperson and boulder octopus were scary at daylight, there was no way they were going to gamble with running into them in the dark, absolutely not. 

After some searching, a few boulders moved and some seaweed gathered for a decent bed, (Name) curled up beneath the shelter of boulders they had made, laying on the cool seaweed. Today had taken its toll, and within moments, they were asleep, dreaming of making their way home safely.

…“h…o”

Groooan…. infernal fish, with their incessant need to make so much noise in the mornings.

…“H..e..o…”

Hrmph. Dedicated lousy fish, couldn’t they see they hadn’t slept in ages?

…“..Hello..?”

….That’s not a fish, is it…?

Opening one eye, they hoped, prayed, that it was all some hoax, a late night illusion.

And saw a mouthful of grinning shark teeth.

“Ah, you’re awake, good. I was afraid you were hurt; the river bed is no place to rest-”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!” Not letting its startled reaction to their scream go wasted, (Name) launched forward between its tails, swimming blindly as their bleary mind struggled to make up from down this early in the morning- resulting in slamming straight into the river bed.

Well. That wasn’t exactly graceful. 

“I’m so sorry, I-I hadn’t meant to startle you- are you injured-? Wait don’t-!” Oh Wave-bringer below what was charging at them, they couldn’t see anything, their mind was too exhausted to see anything straight- what was it?!

“PLEASEDON’TEATMEIPROMISEYOUITASTEAWFULAAAAAAH!!!!” (Name) swam back into their boulder shelter, slipping between its arms and curling as much as they could as far back into the makeshift shelter as they could fit. This is it. This is where they die. Goodbye cruel world.

“Eat- Oh, so that’s why you- I’m very sorry if I gave you that impression, but I assure you I don’t eat people. They don’t taste particularly good- no no that was a joke! A joke!” The creature seemed more distressed as (Name) pushed further back into the shelter, not comforted one bit. The creature sighed, and swam up t the entrance, extending its hand forward gently.

“Let’s start over, please. My name is Sidon, Prince of the Zora people, and you are in my home-”“People? A-as in, more of you???”“Yes, but I promise you, just like me, they don’t eat people. And honestly, I am sorry for scaring you, I just… hadn’t seen someone like you before so I was a bit tongue-tied at that time… Please, come out of the cave, I just wish to talk to you.”

Hmm… it sounded sincere… And upon closer exposure to it- his- hand, (Name) saw that whatever a ‘Zora’ was, it didn’t seem to have the skin of a shark… so maybe… maybe it wasn’t a shark.. person… And if it really did want to eat them, he could have done so so many times by now (daydreaming and swimming were going to be the death of them someday). 

“…How do I know I can trust you?”“er… If at any point I scare you again, you are free to hit me and run- I will not chase you and will never bother you again.”“…You swear this?”“Yes. On my honor as Prince.”

….It’s not like they had a whole lot of better options… If anything else, if they died, at least it would be quicker than starving in a shelter as someone circled above waiting for them to starve to death. Hesitation wrecked their body, doing little to stop them from slowly edging to the exit of the shelter and even more slowly exiting it.

Getting a good first look at the crea- man before them, (Name) finally saw him beyond the terrifying teeth and head shape. Red, brighter than more fish in the sea, danced on his skin. Deep yellow eyes, metal necklace and a strange… poofy white thing on his person. And huge. Can’t forget his huge height.

All in all though, not *quite* as terrifying as they had first seen. Still, they kept their distance as this Sidon sized them up as well. 

The man had a very nice smile, (Name) had to admit that. Even if the teeth were still making sure they stayed a nice few meters away from him. 

“Oh. Sorry, I had not meant to gawk but… I’ve never seen anyone quite like you before. Who are you, and what are you?”

“…(Name), Scholar of the North-sea merfolk clan. I’m a merfolk. A… pleasure to meet you. S-…Sorry for screaming.”

“Likewise (Name), and apology accepted.” Strange. Their name sounded… somehow warmer when they said it. Damn it, they really needed to get back, this isolation was not good for their soul at all. “If I may ask, what brings you to the Zora domain? The sea is weeks away.” 

“I assure you, I had no idea I was in anyone’s domain. I’ve been lost in these rivers for weeks trying to get back to the sea.”

“…You’ve been trying to get to the sea, and you wound up here?”“…Yes..?”“In the Zora Domain?”“…Listen, if you’re going to sass me, at least use real life stuff to do it-”“-You really are lost, the sea is in the exact opposite direction of us.”

… 

…

…aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-

“…Beg your pardon?”“The Zora domain’s stronghold is a lake, not a few hours continuing this way in the river-”

-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-

“The sea, by river at least, is at least 2 weeks of navigating the rivers away.”-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-“…I…I….see…” Take a deep breath, (Name), deep breath. Aaaaaand try to figure out the right thing to say now to Prince Sidon, this awkward silence really isn’t helping in the “not crazy” argument more than likely going on in his head. “Thank you, for…clarifying that Your, uh…Your High-ness, is that the right-? Okay, good.” Awkwardly drummed their fingers against the sides of their tail, really unsure as to what to say. Half a month really had done no favours to their people skills at all. “Soooooooo…., I had best be getting on then. 2 weeks of swimming and all. Again, sorry for the whole ‘screaming my head off thing,’ won’t happen again-”

“Perhaps I can help you/So see you later/Oh sorry you go first/No, you/I-”“Please. I gave you more than a difficult time earlier, and I can see this is something that distresses you. Allow me to make it up to you.”“…What exactly did you have in mind?”

….

….

…. Looking back, maybe having an actual bed to sleep on and a water-proof map of all the rivers wasn’t as worth it as they had thought. Not that being surrounded by more Zora sharkpeople (minus the fin, what had happened to the fins, were they chopped off, what-) was bad, though it certainly didn’t help out a whole lot, what with their intense staring and all. It’s just…

Most people prefer to be surrounded by stuff they can actually move in, that’s all. 

“Allow me-”“No no, I can do this, just give me a mom- A-HA! There we are!” It was wiggly, “standing”, as the prince put it, on their tail, but it was something. Even if it was faaaaaaar from dignified. “As you were saying, you said you believe your father can be of assistance to me?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “Of course! Father knows our rivers like the back of his hands. If anyone can find a fast route to the sea, he can. And he’ll no doubt want to know of our new neighbors in the sea.” 

“ ‘New”  is a strong word, but I can understand that-”Splash. 

“Surely you’ll let me help you, you can’t just move like this in these waters, they’re too shallow.” (Name) politely waved off the prince’s outstretched hand, wobbling back into an upright position. The shallow water forced them to, which was relatively demeaning, but with a bit more practice, they should be able to somewhat navigate it. 

“Help me how exactly? Don’t worry, I’m getting the hang of this “standing” stuff, it’s the uh… what’s that other word-”“Walking.”“Yes, that! Just give me a moment, I can figure this out-” Splash. “Just, one moment, so jumping didn’t work, what about” Splash “…If at first you don’t succeed, try try again.”Splash. “…About that help…” They did their best to feel no offense as the prince stifled a laugh at their clumsy attempts to walk with one tail. No doubt it did look rather silly. He knelt down towards them, his arms outstretched. 

“May I?”“…Sure.. what exactly are you doiNG?!” From demeaning to just undignified, the little squeak at the end they gave at the sudden shift of position was just not respectable in any way. Nor was the way their arms tightly gripped ‘round Prince Sidon’t neck any way close to being ‘respectable,’ they hadn’t been held like this since before they learned how to swim. “…Guess that does solve the problem, even if the solution is rather… unorthodox.”

“Have you never been held like this?”“I’ve never been fully above water, period. This is…strange, but nothing some time can’t help.”

Secure in his arms, (Name) finally had a chance to take it all in. Arcs high above, silver blending into the water and lit up by the brightly-colored people in its very inconveniently shallow waters. Were they an artist, they could argue it was objectively stunning. 

(Name) was in a whirl. Stunning sights all around, people with knowledge that back home they hadn’t even begin tapping in, incredible culture and people that were kind of terrifying but also so strange and new. And charming in the case of some particular individuals.

They looked up at their red rescuer, and couldn’t help but give a bit of a smile.

Maybe they would enjoy those extra two months after all.