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emakataken · 1 month ago

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Part 4

Idea: After a chance meeting at a firefighter bar, Tommy Kinard a guarded Air Ops pilot and Buck a restless academy recruit, fall into something neither of them saw coming.

This is a long one.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

It’s Thursday night and Marlowe’s is already half full. The air hums with easy noise, music, scattered laughter, the clatter of plates and the smell of beer-battered chicken drifts through the air. Buck steps in just behind Tommy, brushing rain off his shoulders with a wince he tries to hide. The movement pulls tight across his back and something twinges wrong. He exhales slowly, blinking through it as Tommy holds the door long enough to glance at him.

“You good?” Tommy asks, quiet, without making it a thing.

“Yeah. Just landed wrong on a drill this morning,” Buck says, voice low. “I’ll be fine by morning.”

Tommy doesn’t push, but his eyes narrow slightly. Buck knows that look, he’s on Tommy’s radar and that thought makes something warm bloom in the pit of his stomach.

The familiar buzz of conversation draws them forward. In the back corner booth, the rest of Tommy’s family is already gathered. Mickey sprawled with a dark lager in hand, arguing with Gina about 80s sitcoms. Sal’s flipping through the menu. Gina half-turned in her seat, gesturing with a french fry as she lectures Eli about his blood pressure.

“Hey,” Sal calls as they approach. “About fuckin’ time.”

Tommy slides in first, his shoulders relaxing in that way Buck’s started to recognize, something about these people, this table, lets him breathe easier. Buck follows, biting back a flinch as he twists into the booth. He settles beside Tommy with more stiffness than usual, and Tommy’s hand drops unnoticed coming to rest against Buck’s thigh.

“Sorry,” Buck says. “McDaniel made our last run a nightmare. We passed, but barely. Kid still can’t brace a line worth shit.”

“He’s gonna get someone hurt before he gets cut,” Eli mutters without looking up from the trivia sheet.

Buck snorts, “he won’t get cut. Kid’s the commissioner’s son.”

Gina watches him as she slides a cold pint his way. “They keep sticking you with him because they know you’ll keep him from getting hurt.” Her voice is softer now, threaded with the kind of knowing Buck’s still getting used to. Her gaze flicks from the tightness in his jaw to the way Tommy hasn’t moved his hand. “You good, kiddo?”

Buck gives her a crooked grin that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “Always.”

It’s not the full truth, but it’s enough.

He’s been showing up for nearly two months now. Long enough that Gina has his drink waiting, an orange slice perched on the rim. Long enough for Mickey to start ribbing him mercilessly, and for Sal to toss him the trivia sheet without asking if he’s staying. They all know. Even if no one says it out loud.

Tommy hasn’t labeled anything. He doesn’t have to.

Buck sits next to him every week, knee to knee. They lean in close to whisper guesses, pass notes, and trade quiet glances across the table that no one calls out. But everyone sees it. Especially Sal, who’s known Tommy the longest. Who’s suspected the truth for years but never pushed. Now, he watches with the kind of quiet pride that comes from seeing your best friend finally stop pretending.

Tonight, Buck’s off his game. He’s too quiet, his posture is tight, movements careful . He takes a mozzarella stick and leans back too fast, something seizes in his side and he grits his teeth.

Tommy catches it. “Hey,” he says, voice low. “You need to stretch out or…”

“I’m fine.” Buck cuts in quickly. “Just… long week. And fuck.” He closes his eyes and lets out a deep breath then smiles as Tommy’s fingers curl tighter around Buck’s leg beneath the table.

“What’s the capital of Montenegro?” Eli asks, oblivious, pen hovering.

“Podgorica,” Buck answers, opening his eyes.

Sal whistles. “You cheat or are you just a freak of nature?”

Buck shrugs, reaching for another mozzarella stick. “Training and I read a lot on….” He cuts off with a sharp inhale, his shoulders seizing as his back spasms hard enough to make him drop the food.

Tommy’s hand moves from his thigh to his back, fingers pressing lightly into the tension. Buck doesn’t flinch from the touch, as he grits his teeth through the ripple of pain and forces a breath out slow.

“Jesus, you’re twenty-four,” Gina says, mock-horrified, trying to pull the mood back with a grin. “You shouldn’t even have back pain yet.”

Tommy doesn’t look at her when he answers. Just mutters it low, more truth than joke. “Tell that to the shrapnel scars.”

Mickey looks away, giving them space. Sal flips the trivia sheet like it’s nothing, asks Eli about his day just loud enough to break the silence.

Gina’s smile fades. She meets Buck’s eyes, something older and softer settling in her expression. Then, without a word, she plunks her purse onto the table with a solid thud and starts rifling through it.

“Hold on.” She pulls out a white prescription tub, the label half-peeled and scuffed, and hands it across the table to Tommy. “It’s for Sal’s neck when he fucks it up going all Boston on his firehouse. It’ll help. Apply a thin layer. No more than that or he’s gonna feel like he’s on fire.”

Tommy takes it without hesitation.

Gina reaches again, this time sliding a glass of water and two small pills toward Buck. “Anti-inflammatories. Prescription grade. You’ll sleep better.”

Buck looks at her, eyes tight but his gaze flares with gratitude. He doesn’t say anything. Just nods once and pops one of the pills with a murmured thanks.

“Hey,” Gina says, reaching for another fry. “You ever need a real meal, we’ve got leftovers most nights. The kids love guests.”

Buck’s grin softens, eyes going the glossy blue that always ensnares Tommy. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Sal says, elbowing him. “Besides, I need someone else to argue with Gina about the MCU.”

"What's the MCU?"

“Jesus Christ, kid,” Sal groans, squeezing his temple. “We’re putting on Iron Man. Tommy, bring your boy over for movie night next Saturday.”

Tommy watches it happen. How easy Buck has slotted himself in. How the group curves around him, how he belongs here. Not just tolerated but wanted. It’s more than Tommy thought he could have.

Buck’s still smiling when he leans back, fingers curled around the glass like it’s something more than water. Tommy can see the pulse ticking in his neck, the wince he tries to hide when he shifts in the booth.Just smiles wider when Gina slides the fries closer to him or when Sal drops another ridiculous trivia fact into the conversation just to bait him.

The second pitcher is half-gone, the trivia sheet creased and stained in the middle of the table. Buck’s posture has relaxed, but the tension in his spine has eased under the medication.

They’re halfway through a music round when the laughter from the bar registers at first as the voice cuts through, sharp, smug, pitched high enough to reach their target. “Didn’t realize trivia night was date night, Kinard.”

Another voice chimes in, dripping sarcasm. “Must be nice. Sit around holding hands while the rest of us haul ass through brush fires.”

Buck stills and his fingers pause on his glass.

Tommy’s spine goes rigid beside him.

Sal shifts, muttering, “Fuckin’ Novak,” under his breath, like a curse. He shoots a look across the bar, enough to say cut it out without standing. “Thought that asshole lost his shield with Gerrard.”

Eli shakes his head. “Nope. Just got shuffled to Station 14.”

“You always bring rookies, Kinard?” Novak calls out, loud enough to slice through the bar. “Or just the ones you’re breaking in off-duty?”

The table goes still.

The room around them dips into a hush. Buck turns, not fast, just rotates to face them steady and blank-eyed.

“I’ve held my best friend’s hand while he bled out in the sand, whispering lies about how he was going to make it,” Buck says, voice level. “So if the worst thing you’ve got is a cheap shot about who I sleep with and who I trust at my six? Say it louder. Let us all hear how small you really are.”

The air crackles. A few tables shift. One of the guys starts to say something, but the bartender lifts a hand. “Out,” she says, already dialing the rest of the room back to peace. “Now.”

The group doesn’t argue. Just slinks out, smirks brittle, the way cowards always do when the room doesn’t back them.

Buck turns back and picks up his glass and drowns it and refills it.

Gina blinks and smiles approvingly towards Buck. Then reaches for the pen and mutters, “You handled that better than I would’ve. I’d be in cuffs.”

The tension cracks a little. Eli huffs. Sal barks a laugh that sounds like relief.

It does nothing to soothe the tension that leaks back into Buck’s spine as Tommy lets go of Buck’s back like he’s been burned.

When he glances sideways, Tommy isn’t meeting his gaze. His jaw’s set, hand wrapped too tightly around his own glass.

They roll into another round. Elijah argues a sports question with the bartender. Gina’s laughing loud enough to make a toddler at the next table clap. Buck gets the tie-breaker question right but his grin doesn’t reach his eyes.

Tommy hasn’t said a word in ten minutes. He doesn’t need to.Because every time Buck leans just slightly into his side. Tommy feels it like static under his skin. It hits him how dangerous it is to let this become routine. Buck in his space, in his life, a little more each week. With his soft voice, intense eyes and bruised knuckles and that deep-seated belief that if he just keeps trying, people might stop leaving.

“Alright, degenerates,” Sal says, pushing to his feet. “Some of us have an alarm going off at 0600. Tommy, are you driving or is the kid crashing with you again?”

Tommy’s mouth opens. Closes. Buck is already stretching, slow and lazy, like the answer’s obvious.

“I’ll ride with him,” he says, casual. But his eyes flick to Tommy’s, asking even as he pretends not to.

Tommy nods once, clipped. His voice comes late. “Yeah. I got him.”

They don’t talk on the drive.

Buck rides with the window cracked, wind threading through his hair, eyes fixed on the blur of streetlights. Tommy drives smooth, controlled, but his grip on the wheel is too tight, jaw set like he’s chewing through every unspoken word.

When they reach Tommy’s house, Buck follows without asking, without being invited. The door shuts behind them with a soft click, and Tommy toes his boots off but doesn’t look back. He stands there, still and taut, like if he meets Buck’s eyes now, he might say something he can’t take back or worse.

Buck shrugs off his jacket.

Tommy stays standing in the center of the room, spine too straight. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Buck pauses. “Do what?”

“Back at the bar,” Tommy says. “Put a target on yourself.”

“I didn’t,” Buck says evenly. “But I wasn’t going to let his comment go.”

Tommy finally turns, eyes sharp. “You think that matters? You think anyone gives a shit.”

Buck stiffens. “You think…”

“I think you’re twenty-four,” Tommy snaps cutting him off. “And you’ve been lucky so far.”

Buck lets out a quiet laugh. “Lucky?”

Tommy presses on, like he can’t stop now. “You act like you’ve seen the worst of it, like nothing can touch you. But you don’t know what it’s like to actually lose everything because someone decided you didn’t belong.”

Buck’s mouth opens, then closes. His chest tightens.

Tommy doesn’t stop. “"You think standing up in a bar makes you invincible? Guys like Novak don’t just run their mouths, they wait for a chance to hit back when no one’s watching. And it’s not just bruises, Buck. One wrong move, one pissed-off superior, and suddenly you’re off the roster or out of the job. You keep throwing yourself in the line like that, and eventually, there won’t be anything left but what’s broken. We’re not even..” He cuts himself off, but the words hang in the air like a spark about to catch. “This. Whatever this is. It’s not…”

“Real,” Buck says, softly finishing it for him. “It’s not real. Because if it’s not real, then you’re not really gay.”

Tommy looks away. The silence is answer enough.

Buck lets the breath leave his lungs slow. Measured. “You don’t get to decide what it means to me.”

“I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“No,” Buck shakes his head. “You’re trying to keep yourself safe. And that’s fine, Tommy. But don’t pretend I’m just some kid who doesn’t understand.”

The silence stretches long. Buck turns away, to hide the sting in his eyes. He moves to the kitchen, his gait is off, he twists open a beer and pops the second painkiller. “I know what I’m doing,” Buck says after a moment. “I know who I am.”

Tommy closes his eyes.

“I’ve had people try to erase me before,” Buck continues. “Not because I’m bisexual. Because I was too hyperactive. Too much. Spent my thirteenth summer locked in the basement. Ship out for the Navy a week after my seventeen birthday. They reshaped me, rebuilt me.”

Tommy finally looks at him. “Evan…”

Buck doesn’t answer. Just stands there, back turned, the line of his shoulders too tight to be anything but grief as he clings to Tommy’s countertop.

“You don’t have to say it,” Buck shifts, reaches for the Sierra Nevada Pale Ale that Tommy adores and drains half the bottle, he sets it down, not hard, not loud. “I’m not asking for anything you’re not ready for. But don’t make me feel like I imagined this.”

Tommy exhales, rough as he rubs a hand over his mouth like that’ll keep everything inside. “You didn’t imagine it,” he says. “That’s the problem.”

Tommy watches the tension knot at the base of Buck’s spine, the way he tenses to hide the flare in his lower back. Tommy crosses the room and steps close, “you’re hurting,” he murmurs.

“Yeah,” Buck says, a little breathless. “Still kinda feels like it’s on fire.”

“C’mon,” Tommy says, voice low. “Bedroom. I’ll work the ointment in.”

Buck hesitates just long enough for it to register. Like letting someone care for him beyond sex is still new. Tommy laces their fingers and gently tugs him down the hallway.

The bedroom is lit by the lamp on Tommy’s nightstand. The bulb hums. The air carries the clean, earthy scent of laundry detergent and vanilla bean. Tommy closes the door behind them shutting the rest of the world out.

“Shirt off,” Tommy murmurs, setting the small tub on the dresser.

Buck peels his shirt over his head with care, jaw clenched against the movement. The muscles in his back pull taut. The lighting catches the scars that web across his ribs and shoulder blades, burns, shrapnel, a healed gash under his right shoulder that still drags slightly when he moves. Tommy’s seen them before. In showers. In flashes of undressing. But not like this. Not when Buck’s not trying to hide, not trying to seduce.

Tommy exhales slowly, suddenly very aware of the ache blooming in his chest. He almost lost this. Before he even understood what this was.

He dips two fingers into the jar and steps forward, palms warm with the balm. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

Buck doesn’t answer, just braces himself against the mattress, and breathes shallowly.

Tommy starts at the base of his spine. His thumbs work over inflamed muscle, feeling it give under pressure. Buck hisses, then exhales, slowly unclenching.

When Tommy shifts higher, skimming along Buck’s ribs, his thumb grazes the scar under his shoulder blade.

Buck shifts, face half-buried in the crook of his arm, voice low and a little hoarse. “It was a compound outside Ghazni. Routine check, or it should’ve been. Intel said soft entry, low presence. They were wrong.”

Tommy stills, but doesn’t speak. His thumbs move again, gentle, tracking along Buck’s lower back.

“There was a kid,” Buck continues. “Couldn’t have been older than twelve. Stood in the doorway, just looking at us. And then he ran. And we knew.”

He swallows. The muscles in his back twitch under Tommy’s hands.

“I got one Zen out. Carried him while the rest of the team laid down cover. Then the second blast hit.” He exhales, slow and shaky. “Roof came down, fire, concrete. I woke up to silence. Dust in my mouth. My ribs torn open. All I could hear was someone crying. Except it wasn’t crying, it was my squad leader, Ghost choking on his own blood.”

Tommy’s hands go still. Buck doesn’t notice. Or he does, but he can’t stop the words now that they’ve slipped past his lips. “I crawled, got to him, but my hands were shaking so bad, I tried but I couldn’t hold pressure. So, I just held him. Told him he was gonna be fine. That evac was on the way.” Buck’s voice falters. “They were but I think we both knew he was going home in a box.”

Tommy’s hand slides up, presses to the center of Buck’s back.

“I know what it means to be erased,” Buck says. “I know what it’s like to walk out of hell with someone else’s blood in your veins and nobody waiting on the other side. So yeah, when some washed-up firefighter wants to make jokes about who I am? He’s not breaking new ground. And he’s sure as hell not going to make me run.”

Tommy swallows hard, his throat tight. He presses his forehead to the space between Buck’s shoulders. “Jesus, Evan.” His hands move again, slower now, deliberate, like he’s not just tending to muscle but trying to map the damage, to know him in a way that words can’t always reach.

“I don’t tell you this for pity,” Buck murmurs. “I tell you so you know, when I say I’ve been through worse, I’m not bluffing. I’m not some kid.”

Tommy doesn’t answer right away. He just leans in closer, his chest brushing against Buck’s back, arms moving around him like shelter. “I don’t need proof,” he says, lips against the shell of Buck’s ear. “But thank you for surviving it.”

Buck’s eyes slip shut, and he breathes out. He sinks into Tommy, letting the strength there hold him together. Tommy's pulse drums steady against Buck's ear, and he turns his head just enough to glance up. "I scare you?"

“You scare the hell out of me.” Buck turns to face him, his back surprisingly forgiving. Tommy’s arms loosen just enough to let him move. Tommy’s eyes search Buck’s face in the dim light, wary and wanting and wide in a way they rarely are.

"Because of who I am," Buck murmurs, "or what we are?"

Tommy shakes his head slowly. "Because of how easy it is to be with you, of what we are becoming." His breath catches, sharp enough to be a confession of its own. He leans in, pressing their foreheads together. "I'm not good at holding onto things."

Buck’s hands find Tommy's waist. "I’m not easy to shake, kind of needy."

Tommy lets out a short, rough laugh, half disbelief, half relief, and slides one hand around to the back of Buck’s neck. He pulls him closer, mouth grazing Buck’s. "Believe me," Tommy murmurs against his lips. "I’ve noticed."

Buck kisses him again, deeper this time, his tongue curling like it can pull out every conversation they've avoided. Tommy guides him mindful of Buck's body as he moves Buck carefully beneath him. Smiles softly as Buck lets out an appreciative groan at being manhandled.

Tommy takes his time, every kiss, touch, like he’s trying to reassure himself that Buck is still here. Still breathing. Still his, if he dares claim it. And when Buck arches up into him, gasping quietly. Tommy feels it in his bones, the shock of how close he came to losing him before he even knew what this was.

They move slowly, like time doesn’t matter, like nothing outside this room can touch them. Tommy’s weight is familiar, something Buck can press into instead of bracing for. His hands skate down Buck’s sides, over the ridges of muscle and scars.

Buck sighs into the touch. “You always gonna be this gentle?”

Tommy kisses him. “When you're in pain.”

Buck's breath hitches. His hands slide up, dragging his fingertips across the heat and skin. “Oh,” he says, rough. “I can take pain.”

Tommy groans low in his throat, like Buck’s words hit somewhere vital. .He leans in, his mouth brushing Buck’s ear, making him shudder. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “But you don’t have to.” He shifts, one thigh sliding between Buck’s, and Buck’s body bows up with it, instinct and want tangled together. But when Tommy starts to press in, Buck tenses slightly, just enough.

Tommy stills. “Back okay?”

Buck nods. “Yeah. Just go slow.”

Tommy dips slowly and captures his lips. “We’ve got time.” And he means it, deeper than right now, deeper than the soft slide of skin or the heat simmering between them. He means it in the way his hand finds Buck’s, fingers threading together.

They move together again, slower this time.

Buck arches into him, brain surging with oxytocin, as Tommy mouths down the slope of his neck, along the bend of his shoulder.

When Buck comes, his free hands tightens around Tommy’s. Tommy follows face pressed into Buck’s neck, breath rugged and uneven. They stay close after. Tommy stays braced over him, one hand pressed flat to Buck’s sternum, feeling the thrum of his heartbeat.

Buck leans up and kisses him softly. “You staying up there forever?”

“Considering it.”

Buck hums, amused and drowsy. “That’s fine. Just don’t roll off.”

Tommy grins, breathless. He shifts, easing down beside Buck and tugging the blanket over them both.

Buck watches him through half-lidded eyes. “You still scared?”

Tommy’s voice is quiet. “Yeah. But not of you.”

Buck nods. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Tommy presses a kiss to Buck’s shoulder, then to the scar just beneath his collarbone. “I know.”

Buck pads through the house, buzzed from the mix of painkillers and beer, and floating in the softness that only comes after an orgasm and too much trust handed over too easily. He heads for the front door, cracking it open just enough to grab the Chinese takeout he’d ordered in the dumb, blissed-out stretch of afterglow. He nudges the door shut with his foot and heads for the couch.

The living room is dim as Love Actually plays quietly on the TV, already halfway through the part with the cue cards. Tommy’s watching, sock feet propped on the coffee table, eyes crinkling. Buck sinks down beside him. He drops the takeout onto the table, leans back with a sigh.

The scent of sesame oil and soy sauce drifts up as he opens the bag, but he doesn’t move to eat. Just sits there, watching the flicker of the TV dance across Tommy’s face.

He turns the chopsticks over in his hands without unwrapping them. Once. Twice. The quiet stretches. He knows he shouldn’t ask. Not after everything. Not after Tommy had nearly ended it hours earlier, standing too still in the kitchen, voice sharp with fear and nearly ready to burn it all down around them.

So he exhales, not quite steady, and risks it anyway. “Have you ever taken a weekend off?” Buck asks. Not really a question.

Tommy smirks, not looking at him. “Where are you going with this Evan?"

Buck lets out a breath. Not quite a laugh, not quite a sigh. He swirls the chopsticks between his fingers, eyes on the motion, not on Tommy. “I mean like… the coast. Just sand and the ocean and a cheap motel with sheets that smell like saltwater and sunblock. The kind of place with a broken vending machine and one working ice machine down the hall.”

Tommy hums.

“Could do something crazy,” Buck says, voice tugging at the edges of a memory. “Like skydiving.”

“I’m a pilot, Evan.” That tone, that low, exasperated one laced with affection, does shit to him.

“Yeah, but have you ever jumped?” Buck drawls it now, head tipping toward Tommy like he’s chasing something he knows he shouldn’t want this much. “Flying is one thing. Jumping out of it? Whole other game.”

Something flickers in Tommy’s eyes, but he doesn’t bite.

“I could teach you,” Buck says, and it slips out before he can stop it. The longing in it is sharp and unmistakable. “God, the amount of shit I could actually teach you.”

He exhales, lets his head fall back against the couch. “Jump timing. Exit checks. How to spin without panic. How to land without breaking anything. How to breathe when everything’s falling.”

Tommy’s gaze is steady now, watching him. Really watching.

“I miss it,” Buck says, softer. “The silence in freefall. It’s not actually quiet, the wind’s screaming past you but it feels quiet. Like nothing else matters except your heartbeat and the math. You have to trust yourself.”

He pauses. Let the silence stretch between them.

“I know I’m younger,” Buck says. “And maybe that makes it easy to think I don’t get it. That I haven’t learned the weight of everything. But you don’t even know how safe you’d be with me. You don’t know what I’ve trained for. What I’ve survived. What I’d do if someone ever touched you wrong.” He swallows, steady now. “Tonight. The bar, that was nothing.”

Tommy’s breath catches.

“I know how to fall,” Buck murmurs. “And I know how to make sure someone else doesn’t. I could be your line,” he whispers. “You’d never hit the ground.”

Part 5.A

#bucktommy #tevan #tommy kinard #evan buckley #buck x tommy #911 fanfic #9 1 1 fanfiction #i have no idea what im doing #any ideas appreciated

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letsdosciencetoit · 22 days ago

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Snippet from "I'm Where the Spiders Go." Buck Tommy S1AU

I finally have Buck and Tommy meeting for the first time in my canon-divergent season 1 AU - Buck was assigned to the 122 for his probie year, Tommy remains at the 118.

For context, Buck still helped Athena with the home invasion - Abby is friends with Sal's SO, Gina, so she calls Sal for a fire engine, and Buck was man behind. This occurs when the team goes out after the call.

I'm Where the Spiders Go - Snippet

The bar is busy when Buck finally makes it. He’s running late. He’s Jeep has been running a little rough, so he’s called an Uber first, and the drive took longer than expected to arrive.

He spots his team shortly after entering the bar, and smiles when he sees they’ve saved him a spot. It’s taken him a while to feel like he’s actually part of the team, but he’s starting to feel like they want him around, rather than just tolerating him.

“Probie! If it isn’t the hero of the hour!” Oscar calls out, waving him over.

Buck ducks his head, and he can feel his cheeks flushing. He feels a little a little foolish that they’re making such a big deal of it. He rubs at the back of neck, trying to hid his discomfort at the attention, but he’s still smiling.

He’s smile falls a little when he sees a stranger sitting at the table as well. He straightens his shoulders and takes the empty seat next to the man. He doesn’t get the chance to introduce himself before Sal is reaching over and clapping him on the shoulder.

“Tommy, this is our probie, Evan Buckley.” Sal’s voice booms. “He just stopped an armed robbery with the deluge gun today. Buck, this is Tommy Kinard, from my old station. He likes us better than his own crew, so he comes out with us to celebrate the 4 off.”

Buck watches Tommy slug Sal in the shoulder and mutters an “asshole” under his breath, but his eyes are smiling. Buck smiles brightens again as he takes in the banter, comfortable now that Tommy isn’t there to take his place, just another figher fighter out for a drink.

Buck takes in Tommy’s sharp features, and the cleft in his chin. The man sits with an air of confidence that Buck only wishes he could emulate. Tommy catches him staring and raises an eyebrow while tilting his head, an unspoken question.

Looking away, Buck distracts himself with finding an empty cup and filling it from the pitcher. He empties it into his glass for half a pint, and gets up without a word to head to the bar to fill it.

When he returns to the table with the fresh pitcher Sal and Gabriel are at the pool table, while Oscar and Maria are in a heated conversation about the LA Kings. Buck pays more attention to hockey than some of the other professional sports, but he doesn’t follow enough to contribute, or even want to pay attention to what they’re arguing about. Those two can make anything a contest.

He sits back down next to Tommy, and tops his glass, eyes on anything but the man sitting next to him.

“So how did you manage to become a vigilante on your shift?” Tommy asks, lips quirked in a wry grin. The man’s tone is beyond dry, but Buck catches the teasing in it, and it puts him at ease.

He takes a drink of his beer to help his suddenly dry mouth. He tries to down play it when he starts talking. “I was man behind, and they needed an engine to help pinpoint the location of a house with an active robbery and a minor inside. I just drove the engine with the siren on until they could hear it on the call.”

“Hmm,” Tommy starts with another raised eyebrow. “That doesn’t really explain the deluge gun.”

The sarcasm startles a chuckle out of Buck. “Um, yeah. Sergeant Grant got one of the guys at he house, but the other tried to take off on his motorcycle. I may have used the deluge gun to shot him off the bike.”

Tommy almost snorted his beer, whether at Buck’s statement or the way he delivered it. “Shit, kid! Everyone alright?”

Buck grinned at Tommy’s reaction, leaning in a little closer. “Everyone’s fine. Bad guys arrested, kid’s home with her parents, and no one was hurt.”

“Except for the man you knocked off the bike,” Tommy pointed out.

Buck shook his head, placing both hands on the table for emphasis. “No! Even him. Minor scrapes. They were able to take him straight to booking.”

“And Sergeant Grant called Captain Warran to sing your praises,” Sal interrupted, resting a heavy hand on Buck’s shoulders before taking a seat next to him again. “She said you were a quick thinker and an asset to have on our team.”

“That’s high praise from Sergeant Grant,” Tommy offered, raising his glass in a mock toast. “That woman does not pay compliments lightly.”

Buck feels his cheeks flushing again, and he looks down at the table to try to hide it. “I just did what anyone would have done.”

“I’m not sure just anyone would have thought to man the gun,” Tommy points out, putting a warm hand on Buck’s shoulder. The heat radiates down his arm and spreads through his chest. He meets Tommy’s gaze, and is pinned by the sincerity in it. Buck can’t remember the last time he felt seen, like what he does matters, and someone recognized it.

The intensity of the moment becomes too much for him, and Buck breaks eye contact first, reaching for his glass and downing the rest of it.

“I’ll get the next round,” he says, and pushes away from the table with a screech of his chair. Oscar and Maria stop arguing and shoot a sharp look his way, but Buck already has his back to the table, making his way to the bar with the empty pitcher.

#9-1-1 #bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #9-1-1 fanfiction #canon divergent au #9-1-1 season 1 #sal deluca #i'm where the spiders go

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gurugirl · 2 years ago

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A Good Boy | 1. Surrender

Summary: Harry's got the hots for his young stepmom and she's pretty fond of him too. But they're both trying really hard to be good. Loosely based on this ask.

A/N: This is stepmom!reader x virgin stepson!harry. There is a 7 year age gap and Harry met her at the age of 19. He is 21 in this story.

Word count: 21.4k words

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, inappropriate relationship between a stepmom & virgin stepson, smut

A Good Boy Masterlist

Her husband, Leonardo, was the kind of man that could only be described as a provider. Not a lover, not a sweet man, not a gentle soul. Just a provider. Her mother asked her why she was marrying the older man, “Y/n he’s 15 years your senior! It’s preposterous! He’s rich but you can find real love…” She’d heard it all. But she was interested in having nice things. Being able to finish her art and history degree and go to the tennis club and shop with her girlfriends.

He also bought her the cutest little red Mercedes and the biggest diamond ring. And his house was- well it wasn’t just a house. It was an estate sat in the Hollywood hills near other celebrities and affluent humans (or robots she sometimes thought). She even had her own bedroom. It was an odd setup for sure, but a setup nonetheless.

Leonardo made it clear. He wasn’t looking for love. He was looking for a pretty thing with a good head on her shoulders that he could fuck when he needed and buy nice things for. Someone to bring with him when he had to show face at events and parties who could hold a somewhat intelligent conversation. She could do that. And he wasn’t a bad-looking man either. He was fit and tall with a deep voice and his deep pockets were just the cherry on top.

Did this make her a gold digger? She supposed that yes, it did. But what of her husband? This was what he wanted too. No one was being tricked. Everything was very simple and clearly defined. Down to the fact that she could sleep with anyone she wanted as long as she was discreet and didn’t give him the details. The same went for Leo.

Though Y/n hadn’t been interested in sleeping with anyone else, she was certain Leo did on his business trips and “boys-only vacations” he often took with his friends.

Y/n wasn’t bothered by the lack of love or the fact that her marriage wasn’t conventional. She was getting everything she wanted and she was happy. Sure a little intimacy was nice but she had close friends and so far, that was all she needed.

. . .

“Leo! Marla is here with the Uber! I’ll see you later!” She shouted toward his study as she made her way out the door. It was Friday night. Girl’s night. Every other Friday she, Marla, Cyndee, and Gina met at Murphy’s Lounge to dance and drink a few too many martinis. It was always fun. Sometimes she flirted with some man who wanted to dance. But never anything more. She could have if she wanted. More. She could have done more but she never felt the need. No one interested her enough to make that sort of leap into partaking in the open aspect of her marriage.

The bar was full, as it usually was at 8 pm on a Friday night. Gina and Cyndee had already secured a table and had cocktails in hand when she and Marla got there.

And just like every time the four of them got together, they acted as if they hadn’t seen one another in ages. Sometimes they could be overly dramatic in their greetings but they genuinely appreciated one another.

“Okay. The first round is on me, but the rest is on Daddy Leo,” Cyndee bubbled out her words in laughter.

Y/n playfully smacked Cyndee’s arm, “Oh so now you’re calling my husband Daddy?!” She rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, I am. He’s a Daddy, Y/n. Like, there’s no way you don’t call him Daddy when-“

Y/n placed her hand over Cyndee’s mouth, “Oh my god you’re too much sometimes! No more talk of Leo! The rest of the drinks are on him and we’ll leave it at that,” she laughed.

That was usually how it went. Leonardo picked up their girl’s night tab and paid for their taxis or Ubers.

“Okay. We’re just gonna get our drinks and we’ll be right back.” Marla swept Y/n off to the bar so they could order their usual drinks. For Y/n it was a nice stiff lemon drop martini.

Marla ordered a whisky sour, with extra orange slices and then rambled on about Ryan, her on-again, off-again boyfriend. They were on again at that moment but she was wearing thin, once again.

“Why do you do it to yourself, Marla? If you want to be done then just be done. You’ve tried and it hasn’t worked. I feel like you could do better anyway. Ryan’s nice but I think you two have run your course.”

“Ughh… I know, Y/n. God do I know. Easier said than done. There’s so much history, and friends in common. And we have a fucking dog together! I just… I don’t know.”

The bartender handed them their drinks and then Y/n gave the guy her credit card, “Please put this card in place of Cyndee Daniels tab. We’ll use this one instead.”

Josh was the bartender that evening. A cute college-aged young man with a bright smile who always remembered her name.

“Of course, Ms. Y/n. Will swap these out. As usual.” He winked.

She leaned over the bar as she took a quick sip of her martini while Josh went to retrieve Cyndee’s card. She looked down the bar at the faces of other patrons and suddenly was met with the clear green eyes of Leo’s son, Harry. Her stepson. She wasn’t sure if he’d seen her and it wasn’t as if Y/n had done anything wrong but she just hadn’t expected to see him there.

She leaned up again, peering around the woman sitting on the stool to her left and her eyes landed on the young man. Freshly shorn dark curls and a soft pink smile crooked up as he spoke animatedly to the guy sitting next to him. And just as she assumed he hadn’t seen her he turned and looked at her squarely, his lips moving as he spoke something to his friend then nodding in acknowledgment at Y/n before pulling himself off the stool he was on and making his way across the bar to her.

“Is that Harry?” Marla spoke as she leaned in.

“Yes, it is.”

Harry was a nice young man. He was polite, sometimes overly polite she thought, and he was charming. Y/n liked Harry. She didn’t know him all that well. He lived on campus at the university so she saw him rarely. But she did recognize that he’d cut his hair. He had long dark curls when she first met him. He looked like a bad boy, covered in tattoos with a permanent smirk on his face. But once she got to talking to him, she realized, he was a big sweetheart really. The long dark hair and tattoos were just a look. A style. Harry was a nice young man.

The truth was, all the girls joked about how attractive Leo and his son were. Both men were quite handsome. Y/n couldn’t deny that. Harry was tall like his father and built nicely. Long legs and a well-muscled chest. A great jawline and crystal green eyes that allured.

“Hi, Y/n. Marla,” Harry spoke as he looked from Y/n to Marla.

And that was another thing about him. He always remembered everyone’s name. He had met Marla maybe twice, yet here he was drinking beers at a bar and remembering the name of Y/n’s best friend whom he barely knew.

“Hi Harry,” Y/n smiled up at him, “Like the hair,” She reached up and whisked a finger into a short curl before bringing her hand back down into her own space.

Harry smiled broadly, a glorious dimple digging into his cheek as he raised an arm and ran his long fingers through his soft dark hair, “Oh! Yeah. Thank you. Got it cut a few weeks ago. Still getting used to it. Um, how are you doing?”

“Good. Girl’s Night, you know,” she shrugged and looked over at Marla who stood next to her, “We’re here every other Friday for some dancing and drinks,” when she turned her gaze back to Harry’s his soft eyes were intently watching her as she spoke. “Um, yeah. How are you? How’s school?”

Harry tipped himself forward to his toes and then lowered back down to his normal height, “Good. S’good. Already looking forward to Spring break,” he chuckled.

“Oh yeah! Me too. I’m not even in school anymore and I’m already making plans,” she chuckled.

Suddenly something dawned on Y/n. Her eyes went wide and then she squinted as she looked at her stepson, “Wait. You’re not 21. You’re too young to be here, Mister.”

Harry snorted a laugh and nodded, “I know. I know. But I’m turning 21 in two weeks. Figured I’d try out my fake ID once in my life. Before it’s too late,” he grinned.

“So you’ve never done this before?”

“Nope. First time. And of course, my stepmom is here when I do. Just my luck.”

Y/n laughed and her smile almost hurt her cheeks it was so wide.

A small jab to her side reminded her that Marla was still standing there, “Oh, sorry. Yeah. We should be heading back. We’re just over there if you want to stop by and say hi to the girls.” She pointed to the table where Cyndee and Gina were already watching the scene.

“Sure. Yeah. Of course. Um, it was really nice to see you, Marla,” Harry smiled gently at her and then looked back down to Y/n, “I’ll come by and say hi before I leave.”

The moment Y/n got to the table Cyndee pulled her arm, “Your stepson. Oof. He’s really attractive. Have you and him ever… you know?” She joked. Of course, Cyndee knew better.

“Oh stop it! Of course not! He’s a 20-year-old kid!” Y/n spoke in exasperation.

“You’re only 27, Y/n. You’re not much older. In fact, you’re closer to his age than you are to Leo’s,” Gina said.

Now Gina was usually the voice of reason so to have her on Cyndee’s side was ludicrous. Of course, she knew Cyndee was teasing but still.

Y/n took her seat and rolled her eyes as she took a healthy gulp of her sweet and tangy martini.

“And his haircut. God, he’s adorable like that. Damn,” Marla spoke next to her.

The music eventually began to grow louder and the martinis were going down far too easily. Especially after dancing and working up a sweat away from her seat. But one thing that didn’t change through the night was that her eyes kept finding Harry’s. It was like she couldn’t stop glancing over at him. But it didn’t help that every time she dared to peek he was looking at her already.

She couldn’t be sure that he was watching her dance but there was something about just the idea that he might be that had her swaying her hips a little more sensuously and using her hands to rub down her body like she was some kind of sexpot. But in truth, her dance moves were definitely subpar. But three martinis will tend to make one feel unnecessarily bold.

Y/n decided on just one more drink. A fourth martini to round out the night, plus she wanted to walk up to the bar near Harry and talk to him a little bit more. Just a friendly little tease about how he was only sitting and not dancing. Even his friend had gotten off the stool and danced with a young woman on the dance floor for a bit.

“You’re not really making the most of this special night, Harry,” she elbowed at his arm gently as she leaned over the bar to wave at Josh.

“What do you mean?” Harry’s eyes were a little red and he was quite obviously a little drunk.

She looked down at his wetted lips and back up to his pretty eyes, “You’re not even dancing. Just sitting here like a lump drinking beer after beer.”

“Ms. Y/n, another lemon drop?” Josh spoke as he put his hands on the bar top in front of her.

“Yes, please, Josh, and close it out too. I think all the girls are done for the night.” She laughed.

She turned back to look at Harry, “So no girls here you want to dance with? Even your buddy got out there a little bit. Where is he by the way?”

Harry turned around and looked over his shoulder for his friend and shrugged, “Maybe shagging in the bathroom. Haven’t seen him in a while now that I think of it. And no. No girls here I want to dance with.”

Y/n pouted and tilted her head as she reached up to touch his hair again, “I’ve seen a bunch of pretty girls around your age here, Harry. Some even checking you out. You should get out there and dance a little. Really fully experience Murphy’s Lounge,” she looked over her shoulder and then leaned in to speak quietly, “It’s your last chance with your fake ID,” she smiled as she tugged his curl the smallest bit.

Harry smirked, “Child abuse!” Craning his neck away from her fingers, he patted at his hair as if the tiny tug had hurt.

She rolled her eyes as Josh returned with the drink and her card, “See you in a couple weeks.” He smiled at her before returning to the other customers.

Harry’s features became serious again, “You know him?”

Y/n sipped her martini and nodded, “Yeah. We’re here often enough. So, yeah.” She shrugged keeping her eyes on her adorable stepson. Okay, maybe it was more like adorably handsome stepson, but still.

“Come. I’m gonna put this away,” she lifted her card upward as she motioned him to follow her, “And you and I are going out there to dance a little. We’ll find you someone cute to groove with a little.”

She expected Harry to protest a bit but he didn’t. He stepped in behind her and followed her to her table with his beer in hand. He stayed close to her as she bent down to slip her credit card into her purse. The security in the room always watched their table so no one took their things or tampered with their drinks (and the nice little tip Y/n, by way of Leo, didn’t hurt either).

“Leave your beer here. We’re gonna need our hands free!” she giggled as she pointed at the table.

“You’re okay to leave your drinks out like this? Thought that was a big no-no.”

Y/n looked in the direction of the man standing a few feet away, “He’s watching over the table. Now come on!”

The floor was packed with warm bodies moving and gyrating. The music was loud and the rhythmic base could be felt underfoot. She’d long lost sight of the girls as she began to sway and raise her arms upward.

Harry stayed close to his stepmom’s side and shuffled around a bit. His body was a bit stiff but he laughed when Y/n grabbed his hands and made him spin, “Loosen up a bit! Come on, Harry!”

Rolling his eyes he grinned and began to dramatically move about, trying to feel the beat and push down how awkward his movements felt.

Y/n kept her hands on his to encourage him to move with her and they both laughed as Harry began to relax into it a bit. His big smile only widened as the song was switched up to something that felt quite naughty and suggestive.

She released his hands because it felt like he was getting the hang of it. Not to mention she was beginning to enjoy the way his big hands fit around hers. And that couldn’t happen.

She turned around and continued swinging her hips and, moving with the rhythm as best she could. Long moments went by and she closed her eyes and allowed herself to get back into the swing of dancing and feeling the freedom and excitement of her night.

A hand pulled at her hip from behind and she opened her eyes and turned to see her stepson towering over her from behind. She hadn’t expected the sudden grip he had on her so she turned in confusion causing his palm to fall away. Harry looked over her shoulder and then dipped down to speak into her ear, “A man came over and was just about to try something with you. Wanted to discourage him a bit. Sorry.”

Y/n followed where he was looking and there was indeed a man there looking at her. And it wouldn’t have been too out of the ordinary for this to happen. She dealt with these things well usually. Sometimes she’d dance a little and flirt a little but that was it. It didn’t bother her. It was all in fun.

She chuckled and pulled at Harry’s shoulder to speak in his ear, “You don’t have to worry about me, Harry. I can take care of myself. I’m a big girl. But thank you.”

Harry licked his lips and turned his face toward her to speak, “I know you’re all grown up. Just didn’t want to see that with my own eyes is all.” His words were spoken close to her ear, his deep baritone vibrating from her neck and over her ear as she turned to look at him, only he didn’t move his face away and their gazes connected for a moment longer than felt innocent.

She swallowed and a small smile plucked upward on her lips, “Okay. Do you want to stay close then? Protect from the predators while I dance?” Her smile widened and she laughed but Harry’s smirk felt like something just the opposite of funny as he looked down over her face and to her neck and then over her lips.

“I’m not going anywhere,” his smirk remained as he shook his head and then in a surprise motion turned her around to face away and put both hands at her hips as they began dancing together.

She could feel his heat from behind her and his fingers held onto her hips possessively but she liked it. Especially when her hips moved to the beat and Harry’s hips moved behind her. He wasn’t pressing himself into her backside but she could feel him moving with her. He was keeping a polite distance. Though, everything that was happening was very inappropriate.

It was inappropriate because she liked it. Because this attractive young man behind her was looking at her in a way she noted was not innocent. Because she’d been obviously flirting with him at the bar. Because Harry was her stepson.

When the beat dropped low and the song slowed to something even more provocative and playful they both slowed and she felt Harry’s thumbs on the bit of skin exposed between the bottom hem of her blouse to just above her skirt’s waistline. His grasp on her skin was burning into her flesh, his fingers gently brushing and then squeezing at her.

“You’re not a bad dancer,” Harry remarked into her ear and she felt his chest press into her back.

And without thinking too deeply about it, or perhaps it was the martinis that left her so uninhibited, she dropped her head back and toward his mouth and felt his lips at her ear, “I’m a terrible dancer. But thank you anyway.” She laughed.

Harry chuckled into her ear, not backing away from how she’d leaned into him but instead pulling at her just enough that his fingers pinched her waist and she could feel him smile as he spoke against her ear, “Nothing about you is terrible, Y/n.”

His deep tone gave her a chill and goosebumps traveled down her neck and over her bare arms. Her good sense had been momentarily suspended as she smiled and dared to move her bottom into his hips.

When she heard his groan in her ear she closed her eyes and placed her hands over his, pressing his hands flat over her waist so she could feel his long fingers under hers, feel his warm palms digging into her skin.

“Better stop. I’m getting a little,” Harry suddenly backed off, his hands releasing her hips and she turned to look up at him as he ran a hand through his hair. He was flushed and his pupils were large, making his soft greens appear dark and heavy as he looked at her with an unmistakable glint of lust. She was sure she looked the same.

“Of course. Yeah. It was fun, though,” she smiled as she began to head back to the table. Harry followed.

They slid into the booth and took their drinks, letting the music of the bar fill in the gaps of their silence.

Y/n realized she was wet. She scolded herself inwardly. Her stepson was off-limits. Hell, to her most men were off limits because she was married (despite her open marriage). But especially Harry. She didn’t know if she should apologize or just let everything that had happened slip away without acknowledgment.

They were both drinking and so that had something to do with her behavior. With his. But mostly hers because she was the stepmom. She should have known better.

“Sorry we didn’t find you a cute girl to dance with,” she offered as she rounded her eyes and grinned, trying to make light of everything and ignore what had just happened between them.

Harry shook his head and looked down at his beer, then shifted his eyes to hers, “I think we did find me a cute girl to dance with,” he licked his lips and huffed a laugh shaking his head again as he lifted his beer.

“I’m done done done! Some guy bought me two shots. On top of the four cocktails I had. I’m fucked. I need to get out of here so I can crash into bed. You okay to leave with me?” Marla was suddenly plopping down at the table as she slurred her speech.

Y/n laughed, glad for the interruption. She wasn’t sure how to respond to Harry’s comment, “Yeah. We can get out of here. Where’s Gina and Cyndee?”

Marla pointed at the edge of the dance floor. Two men flanked them with drinks in hand.

“As you can see, they’re fine.”

Marla, Y/n, and Harry stopped by to say goodbye to Cyndee and Gina before leaving the loud bar. The night air was sobering as she used her Uber app to call for a taxi. Harry stayed with them, like the gentleman he was until their ride showed up.

Marla flung herself into the car as Y/n squeezed Harry’s arm, “Thanks, Harry. I’ll see you… I don’t know when, but this was fun! Yeah? Oh! It’ll probably be for your birthday, right? Party at our house. That’s right,” Y/n was mostly talking to herself. They were throwing him a party. Of course, it was going to be a big bash. Tons of college kids and family and drinking since he was turning 21.

Harry nodded, “Yeah. Weekend after next. Saturday. I think I’ll come over Friday night and stay the whole weekend.”

. . .

Harry had always liked Y/n. She was sweet to him from the start. Right off he could tell she wasn’t like Leonardo’s other girlfriends. He’d gone through a lot of them and when he decided he liked Y/n enough to keep around, Harry was genuinely happy about it. His dad was kind of cold and overly structured at times but he always took care of his family and Harry wouldn’t mind having Y/n around. He was 19 when he met her.

Harry’s mom left Leo when he was just a boy. She remarried years later and Harry hadn’t seen her so happy ever. He chalked it up to his dad’s standoffish behavior. He barely showed Harry, love, even. But It was okay for Harry that way. His mom was warm and raised him well. She showed him more love than he’d ever need in a lifetime. She made up where his dad lacked.

So for that, Harry did feel a bit sad, for Y/n, who had such a bright smile and contagious laugh, to marry such a cold creature as his father. The kind that his mother left. His friends joked that Y/n was a gold-digger and they urged him to try and mess around with her. See how far he could take it. But that was out of the question. Not because his stepmom wasn’t smoking hot, but because she was his stepmom. There was just so much wrong with that.

It did irk him, though, that he found her so pretty. But it wasn’t just that. She was smart too. She was easy to talk to and she could keep up with Harry’s little goofy jokes and she never took herself too seriously. Despite having her lips painted red and wearing high-fashion couture courtesy of Leonardo Styles, she was fun and kind.

Harry also benefited from his dad’s money, though. Just because he opted to live with his mother until college didn’t mean he didn’t have everything he wanted. A nice car, nice clothes, vacations with friends, concerts, sporting events, the newest cellphone. Leo didn’t bat an eye if Harry wanted something. And eventually even gave him a credit card to use for anything he wanted.

Yeah, Leo Styles was fucking wealthy. Dirty wealthy. The kind that people hate to see because it’s so excessive and unnecessary that it’s ugly.

But what could Harry do? His dad was a little cold and filthy rich. He didn’t control how his dad dealt with his money, though plenty of people also lumped Harry in with all that. Assumed he was some spoiled rotten brat who’d grow up like his father.

And that was just the thing, though. His dad wasn’t mean or bad per se. He was just rich because of the Styles’ family fortune. And he rarely showed any emotion. His dad did do nice things for the community and donated to good causes, threw fundraisers, and funded schools for children with special needs and gymnasiums for the local children who didn’t have a place to go and play freely.

And he wanted a wife that was smart and pretty. Someone with a brain who could handle a good conversation with grace. Harry understood the arrangement well. There was no love involved but it was a marriage of convenience for both of them. No harm, no foul. Harry didn’t mind it. Others seemed to have heavier opinions about it, though.

“Damn, Harry. You gotta do something about that. She keeps looking over here at you. While she looks like that? Let’s get your v-card taken care of once and for all.”

“Stop it, Jay. She’s my stepmom.”

“So? You told me yourself she’s just married to your dad for the money-“

“No, that’s not what I said. And it doesn’t matter what kind of thing she and my dad have going on. It’s not gonna happen.”

“God look at her. She’s fucking fine, Harry. She wants you too. I can tell. Look you don’t have to take my advice but this one,” he said as he gestured toward Y/n, “She’s a tiger in bed. I guarantee. Look at her move. Bet she could show you a thing or two.”

Harry shoved Jay and shook his head as he looked away before he was caught staring at his stepmom again.

She was hot. Her skirt was short and her little top kept riding up so he could get the tiniest peek of her waistline each time she raised her arms. Harry didn’t want to let his mind wander to those kinds of places. He’d already recognized how gorgeous she was. Liked her personality and how funny she was. If she were younger and not his stepmom, maybe. Maybe.

“Rebecca’s over there. I’m gonna go dance with her a bit. Sheila is too. You should come out and dance! Meet someone! Get laid!”

Harry sighed and sipped his beer as he leaned away from Jay’s arm, “No thanks.”

He did want to get laid of course. It wasn’t like he couldn’t have found a willing participant. It just hadn’t ever happened. He’d messed around a bit but in all honesty, Harry had a hard time wrapping his mind around a quick fling or something that was only sex. He liked connection and love. Wanted that whole thing with someone before getting to that point in the relationship. He knew it was silly to take it so seriously. And it wasn’t like keeping his virginity was his goal. It was just that he wanted it to be with someone special. Yeah, he was a bit of a sap like that.

But no one would know it really. That Harry was a big sap. A virgin at almost 21. Only his closest friends knew and they were sworn to secrecy. People assumed Harry had had lots of sex. That he was fucking people left and right. Because Harry was a flirt. He was super smooth and confident and charming. The kind of man people would imagine just had tons of sex. Plus he was incredibly attractive.

When Y/n was suddenly stood next to him at the bar, sweat at her hairline and soft lips with a cute smile as she spoke to him closely about how he was just sitting at the stool, not making the most of his first time in a bar with a fake ID, he felt his stomach twist. Maybe it was her scent, or the alcohol coursing through his veins, or the way she kept looking at him while she was dancing. Whatever it was, he knew he’d just moved into dangerous territory in his mind.

But she pulled at his hair and licked her lips and stood close so she could speak in his ear and he was easily convinced to finally get up and go dance with her.

Dancing wasn’t really a big deal to him. He wasn’t shy to dance. He honestly didn’t care all that much what people thought of him. He just didn’t want to get out there and dance while she was dancing like that. While she was looking at him in that way. Because he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist her. Something had slipped out of its normal position for Harry that night. He was thinking of his stepmom in very inappropriate ways and he was powerless to stop the indecent thoughts he had about her body and her lips and her voice. It was so wrong.

When he turned her around and put his hands on her hips he allowed his fingers to wander over her skin to the very spot he’d been watching each time she lifted her arms. But this time he pushed the material up to give the pads of his fingers access. And she didn’t stop him.

Her hair smelled good and when he spoke against her ear she got goosebumps. Fucking goosebumps from his voice in her ear.

But then the unthinkable happened and she pressed herself into his front. And luckily she was just off to the left a bit because had she been to the right another inch or so she’d have felt him. He was thick under his dark jeans and it was because of his stepmom.

Her skin and her lips and her hair and the way she smelled and reacted to him. But he had to stop. He backed away knowing that it was the smart move. Hating that it was the smart move.

He came down the shower drain imagining Y/n on her knees with his cock down her throat, gagging and urging him to go in deeper that night after the bar. He closed his eyes and yanked himself and he orgasmed so embarrassingly fast to the image of her. His stepmom. That was the first time he’d masturbated to Y/n’s image. And it felt dirty. It felt forbidden and disgusting.

But then he did it again the following evening in his bed. He was thankful for having his own room in the frat house. Stroking his cock as his thighs quivered and his head was thrown back into the pillow under him, imagining Y/n riding his cock and showing him what she liked had him gasping as he came all over himself.

He tried to move on and get things back to normal in his brain about her. The way they were before that night at the bar. But he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Part of that was because of how she responded to him, flirted with him. The way she was looking at him and how she danced with him. He knew he didn’t imagine it. She was into it. And now that he knew that… well, the result left Harry tugging one out to his stepmom every night thereafter.

. . .

The party was going to be big. Leonardo told Harry to invite everyone he wanted. And of course, he and Y/n invited their friends too.

There was a DJ, a catering staff with bartenders and lots of presents.

Y/n was helping with the setup. Friday was busy for her, the day before the party. She’d almost forgotten about Harry mentioning he’d be coming on Friday to stay the whole weekend. Almost.

In fact, she hadn’t forgotten at all. She tried pushing that memory down but it was still there, underneath everything. Her nerves were wild as she helped direct some of the landscapers and people bringing gifts in from the guests. Tables and chairs, and a dance floor laid near the area where the DJ would be set up. Speakers were placed all over the estate so music could be heard no matter where anyone was.

She was in sweat shorts and a tank top and tennis shoes with no makeup. She had wanted to shower and get freshened up a little at least. Before Harry arrived. Though, she wasn’t entirely sure he actually would come that evening as he said.

But then she laughed at herself worrying so much over how she looked to her stepson. A silly silly girl, she thought to herself. Who cares? Why should she care? She was doing all this for his birthday party anyway. And she was his stepmom.

Looking down at the placement of the dance floor tiles being installed she allowed her mind to drift to that night at the club. His warm skin, his deep voice. The way he handled her like he knew what he was doing… She hated that she had been allowing those kinds of thoughts to trickle in about him. Hated, hated that two days ago when she had sex with Leo it was Harry she was thinking about.

She felt like a nasty and disgusting woman. A pervert.

In the early afternoon, the landscapers had gone and the garden looked like it was ready to be filled in with hundreds of people ready to party. She was proud of the way it turned out. It all looked great.

But she was hungry. She’d eat then shower. Hopefully, before Harry arrived. If he arrived that evening.

The chef’s kitchen had a lovely granite island with unstained walnut and wide plank hardwood floors. The refrigerator was ridiculously large. Opening up the state-of-the-art appliance she peered inside trying to find something quick to eat. She planned on having cheese tortellini later on. Leo was out for the day and told her not to wait up. That he would be back late. Some conference or something. It wasn’t abnormal for him to be gone for hours or days. She enjoyed the quiet and loved to eat simple dishes when he wasn’t around. Things that she craved like macaroni and cheese, fish sticks, or cheesy tortellini, and a bottle of wine.

She settled on yogurt and a double serving of granola as she sat at the island. She just needed an in-between lunch and dinner snack to tide her over.

Just before she scooped her last bite into her mouth she heard footsteps and then his voice, “Anyone home?”

She quickly scrambled off her stool and stood up just as he entered the kitchen. His dark curls were perfectly placed on his head and he wore a colorful Hawaiian-style shirt and black jeans with leather Chelsea boots.

“Hi! Yeah, was just eating a snack. Uh, make yourself at home, Harry!” Her tone was a bit too perky and she cringed at how silly she sounded.

Harry smiled gently and nodded as he dropped his gaze to her legs and back up, “Yes ma’am. Just gonna take this up to my room first.” He lifted his duffle bag, “Looks really good out there,” gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder, “Looking forward to it.”

“Oh, so glad you like it. It was some work to get everything just right. The guys setting up were so great, though. There are still a few more things to finish up tomorrow but I think for now we’re on track. But um…” she walked to the sink to rinse her bowl out as she looked over her shoulder at Harry, “I’m, uh… just headed to take a shower, though. Haven’t had the chance yet today. So…” she trailed off her sentence. None of what she was saying mattered to him at all. She was sure of that.

Harry puffed out a quick little laugh, “Okay. Yeah. Well, I’ll be in my room.”

Her shower was delightful but her nerves weren’t soothed. She was wound up tight and now that her stepson was here in her house, alone with her… she closed her eyes to compose herself. A ridiculous woman. A dirty and perverted creep. Who thinks of their stepson in this way? It’s absolutely disgusting. Immoral. Depraved. Evil. But it had all begun with that night and the way he danced with her. Innocent. Until it wasn’t.

She stayed in her room for a while. Not sure how she should go about acting casually in front of Harry. After that night at the bar, how could she? They had crossed a line. She had crossed a line. She took responsibility for this whole mess in her mind. She was the one at fault. Harry was only 20. Well, 21 now. Technically his birthday was today.

Fuck! She’d forgotten to wish him happy birthday!

Pulling her leggings up and slipping on a t-shirt she huffed as she paced the room. Well, now she had to go and tell him and also apologize for the state she was in when he arrived and how she’d forgotten and…

Calm down. He probably doesn’t even care, Y/n.

Knocking at his cracked-open bedroom door she peeked in to see that Harry wasn’t in there. She looked down the hallway and for some strange reason she stepped into his room and her eyes landed on his laptop that was open.

Porn.

He was watching porn. Y/n let out a surprised laugh and shook her head. She was overstepping so many boundaries. She looked at the screen as she moved away, intending on leaving his bedroom and going to find him when her eyes landed on the title of the video he had up.

Stepmom and Stepson Share a Bed

Her pulse grew fast and her palms began to sweat. Of course, perhaps that meant nothing. Perhaps that was just something he was watching that he found hot and didn’t realize it was stepmom porn or something…

She backed herself out of the room quickly but when she felt his hands on her shoulders and his voice, that fucking voice that sounded like sex, “You okay? Nearly ran me over-“

But he stopped short, a sharp inhaled breath into his lungs cutting off his words. He looked at the bed where his laptop was open and realized what she’d seen. He’d been saving his favorite stepmom porn videos lately. This one was just up. He wasn’t actually watching it before he’d stepped out of the room. It had just been on the screen when he closed out the Word doc he was working on for an essay at school.

“Fuck.” He whispered and released her shoulders, “Y/n, I… look that was just-“

Y/n turned with wide eyes and held her hand up quickly, “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have come in here. I was looking for you to um… I was gonna wish you a happy birthday, and I… I’m the one that should be sorry. That…” she pointed toward his bed, “I shouldn’t have seen that.”

Harry was embarrassed. He felt like crawling under the bed and staying there til the day he died. Never to be seen or heard from again. He was so careless to leave that up like that.

He swallowed and ran his hands over his face and shook his head, “Oh my god. Fuck.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Y/n placed her hand on his forearm and pulled one of his arms down, “Look at me.”

Harry opened his eyes and looked at her like she asked, “No worries okay? That was just nothing. It’s just porn. Everyone looks at porn. It’s normal. Okay?”

“Watching stepmom porn is normal?”

Y/n swallowed. She didn’t think he’d directly come out and say that, “Well… I mean… sure. If there’s a category on Pornhub for it that means someone likes it. You’re not the only one.” She tried to laugh but it died in her throat when Harry clenched his jaw and tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling.

“And besides,” her fingers tightened over his arm, causing him to look back down at her, “it’s not like that’s about me anyway. Come on… it’s just porn. So don’t-“

“Of course, it’s about you, Y/n. Why else would I be interested in that kind of thing?”

She let go of his arm and she felt like she could faint. She grasped onto the door jamb and wobbled as she looked down at her feet to steady herself and then back up at Harry.

“Are you okay? Here, let’s sit.” Harry took her arm from the door jamb and slowly guided her to her sit down on his bed where he promptly shut his laptop and moved the forsaken thing away from them, hidden from view.

“I’m okay,” she put her hands up and blinked her eyes as she turned to look at Harry next to her on the bed. “I didn’t expect that is all. That it had anything to do with- I just…”

“But that night at the club. That was… well… haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I’m sorry. I know that’s inappropriate.”

Y/n bit her bottom lip and nodded before taking a deep breath, “Yeah. I guess. Me too.”

“You too? What?”

She turned to look at his verdant crystal eyes, “I can’t stop thinking about it. And it is inappropriate. And I take all the blame. It was my fault that it even got as far as it did. I’m sorry, Harry.”

Harry shushed her and took her hand, “No. Don’t be sorry. This isn’t just on you. I’m an adult too, Y/n. This is on me just as much. So, I’m sorry. I feel like I probably pushed it that night. I was the one that touched you and made up that story about that guy.”

She recollected that night and the short conversation they had about the guy that was trying to dance with her when Harry had put his hand on her hip. The man was looking at her so she thought what he said was true. She hadn’t even questioned it, “You mean that man… that he wasn’t… you did…” she couldn’t finish her thought. It was. A lot. That revelation felt dense with just enough muscle to peel away some kind of layer of wool that had been placed securely over the situation in safety.

“Yeah. I’m so sorry, Y/n. I don’t know what got into me that night. I really didn’t mean for any of this- It’s… my fault. I started it. I’m really sorry.”

She felt like they were somewhat on even ground now. He’d done that. She wouldn’t absolve herself of blame. No, not at all. She was still the heavy in this situation. She wouldn’t allow herself to feel exonerated by his admission. She was seven years older and his stepmom. She was ultimately to blame.

“God, Harry. Please. I’m…” she paused. His gaze on hers was hard to break. His soft mint eyes made him appear so pure and blameless. But then his deep raspberry lips, darkly pigmented against his face were seductive. Harry was like a siren. An enchanter. He was beautiful.

“No. You’re… amazing and I’ve just gone too far. It’s okay. This is silly,” he laughed and disconnected their eye contact as he looked downward, “This is-“ he looked back up at her and felt his heart thrum hard in his ribs, “silly.” His last word, just a whisper. A word he didn’t believe.

She shook her head, keeping her eyes on his, “And you surely have other options anyway. It’s just a phase. I’m sure you’ve got plenty to pick from. The charmer you are,” she chuckled lightly trying to lighten the mood and suggest it was temporary. That he could be with any young college girl he wanted. Probably had someone lined up for his birthday party even.

Harry’s brows cinched together and he shook his head, “No. I don’t. You don’t know this about me but… I’m actually…” he sighed and looked upward not wanting to see her expression when he told her, “virgin.”

That was not what she expected. Not at all. First of all, Harry Styles was beautiful. He was a sight! A paragon on legs with a gorgeously calming voice and the sweetest disposition anyone could ever dream of. He was perfection if there ever was such a thing. His beauty went before him but his grace and kindness were what made him so appealing. So utterly attractive. How was it that this astonishingly amazing man, absolutely as nice as anyone could ever be, was a virgin? Not to mention he had his dad’s money at the helm. There was nothing about Harry that wouldn’t get him laid in an instant.

“Virgin? Seriously?” She stuttered, “Umm… but not that there’s anything wrong with that…” She almost didn’t believe him as she asked. They’d never discussed this of course, but in her mind, it was quite impossible that he had never had sex.

“It’s true. Yeah. S’embarrassing but I really want it with… not just anyone. I don’t know. It’s not like I haven’t done anything… but I’m not like I’m sleeping with whomever I can.”

Y/n nodded. She got it. As a female that was a conundrum she had as well.

Well, it was slightly different but the basics of why she didn’t just go and sleep with anyone was the same when she was his age. It was because she felt deeply about things. Wanted it to mean something. It didn’t always after she learned that others didn’t feel the same way she did. She learned that getting hurt was sometimes part of relationships. Part of sex. As sad as that was.

“Oh.” She smiled at him and spoke softly, “That’s how I used to feel too. Thought it should be special. But then when I thought it was going to be, the guy didn’t care so it turned out it was only special for me. I realized it didn’t really matter what I wanted. I can’t control what everyone around me wants.”

Harry felt his heart pinch at her words. That wasn’t fair. And that was exactly what had him so worried. That he would give it his all only to have the other person feel as if it was nothing important. Just a moment in time.

But it was a big moment in time. It should mean something. Both people should feel its presence and its significance.

They remained silent for a moment as Harry threaded his fingers in between Y/n’s and licked his lips, “Are we alone?”

She turned her head to look at the man. The whole scenario was unbelievable to her. They’d both admitted attraction and that they’d overstepped boundaries. They also both felt bad about it all. But what did that mean? Did that mean she should just stand up and tell him not to worry about it and not to bring it up ever again? Tell him she won’t say anything if he doesn’t say anything? Give him a hug and a pat on the back?

Yes. That is exactly what she should do.

Unhooking her fingers from his she leaned in and hugged him before standing up from his bed, “Your dad will be home late. So, it’s probably better if I go downstairs and do something to keep me busy. This,” she moved her fingers to point at him and then herself, “we can just chalk up to some bad timing and hormones or whatever. Don’t worry about it. I think it’ll be better for us to just pretend it never happened.”

Harry stood up abruptly, his height overtaking Y/n’s significantly with how close he stood, “Just like that? Just forget that we both said those things?”

She took a step back as she kept her eyes on his, “Yeah. Don’t you think that’s for the best? I mean, Harry… I’m your stepmom.”

Harry pulled his lips into his mouth and frowned as he put his hands on his hips and moved away from the bed. He walked toward his door and turned back, “You can forget it and pretend it never happened if you like. I won’t be, though. I’m not going to say anything but I’m not going to pretend this didn’t happen either.”

Her heart dropped. She hoped he’d just brush it all off and try to move on. That was the best way to go about all of this. It’s not like they could have some kind of affair anyway. He was too young and his dad was her husband. It would be crazy to do such a thing.

“I mean… what did you want here? I feel like moving on is the best thing for both of us.”

Harry breathed out an incredulous laugh and shook his head, “I don’t know. Honestly. Thought…” he looked down at his shoes, “No one needed to know. No one would know.”

“No one needed to know what?”

Harry lifted his gaze up to Y/n’s, “If we… kissed or… anything. It would be easy. Dad’s never home. And you’re so-“ he blinked his eyes and she watched as he honed in on the spot where her breasts were under her t-shirt. She hadn’t put a bra on before slipping the shirt on in her haste to wish him a happy birthday, “Kind and patient. Feel like that would be really nice.”

She felt like her jaw was on the floor. Felt like that would be really nice. She couldn’t argue that. It would be really nice. A man with a warm heart in her bed. Someone she could show what she wanted without worry that he’d be offended. A man that looked like Harry. Young and with all that stamina. She imagined that he probably would want it a lot, especially now that she knew he was a virgin. That he’s been so neglected and that the moment he got a taste of it he’d never want to stop…

She shook her head before she allowed her mind to go too far into that hole, “We can’t, Harry. You understand that right,” she bit her lip. She wanted to grab him by his hips and smear her mouth over his as she pushed him into his bed and had them reenact the stepmom and stepson share a bed porno he had up on his laptop.

Harry nodded, his face set in an unreadable expression, “Of course, Y/n. I wouldn’t push you to do anything you didn’t want. I’m sorry.”

She hated that he kept saying sorry. That he felt bad for any of this when it was on her as well, “Please, Harry. Stop saying you’re sorry. You’re not to blame. I just think we should keep level heads here. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

His breathing deepened so much that Y/n could see the way his chest rose and fell under his shirt. She noted his gaze taking her in, not just her eyes, but her lips and her neck, her hips where the shirt stopped and her leggings showed under, “Oh… Y/n…” he shook his head, “I’ve definitely not been innocent. If my porn history isn’t enough to apologize for then my dirty thoughts surely are. You’d certainly agree that I should be apologizing if you knew the sorts of things I fantasize about with you.”

Y/n looked down. She couldn’t take his saturating gaze and these admissions any longer, “I don’t know why you’re telling me this. It’s okay that it’s private and as long as it’s not acted on… you shouldn’t feel bad.”

“Of course.” Harry gestured toward the hallway as he looked at Y/n. There was nothing more to be said on the matter. Harry knew she was right.

She nodded as she exited his room and heard him close the door behind her as she stepped out into the hallway. All she wanted to do was to tell him happy birthday. But instead, she left confused and frustrated and far more guilty than she had been before. She had no idea how to navigate this. But she only knew that no one could know their secret.

. . .

The caterers arrived before everyone else to get things set up. Small little aluminum warmers lit to keep the food warm. The bar was set up with a washing station and glassware (none of that plastic stuff Leo had said). The sound equipment was tested. Everything was going to be amazing, Y/n thought. For Harry’s 21st birthday party, this was surely going to be a great time.

She hadn’t seen Harry after their encounter in his bedroom the day before. He’d been quiet the rest of the evening. He didn’t even come down to eat.

Leo arrived home just after midnight and today he was working a little, tying up loose ends for something Y/n didn’t bother to pay attention to. Her mind was elsewhere anyway. Her thoughts kept wandering to Harry. Was he okay? Certainly, he wouldn’t be too upset. They hadn’t even really done anything. And they shouldn’t! Plus he was so young and he would have plenty of time to find someone special. She couldn’t be that for him. Certainly not.

Just before she’d had the chance to run upstairs to her room to get her party outfit in order she caught a glimpse of Harry as he was leaving the kitchen. His dark curls were messy. He looked like he had just gotten up.

She laughed to herself. A typical 21-year-old. Sleeping half the day away so he could stay up late and party with his friends tonight. She felt like that was a good sign.

Her dress was modest and what she deemed appropriate. She had originally selected something different for the party, but after her talk with Harry the night before, she went a more conservative route. Perhaps he’d ignore her when he saw the other pretty girls his age that he knew at the party. She hoped there would be someone else that caught his eye. Someone that could make him forget all about whatever it was that happened between them.

She pulled her hair into a low bun, smoothing the bits that always tended to poke out from a sleek do. It was easy to keep her hair this way. And it was more mature too she felt. Rather than keeping her hair down in styled waves or curls, the low bun was a nod to her stage in life. The married woman with a stepson stage.

She decided to not wear perfume or lipstick either. She wanted to do anything she could to fade into the background for the party. She’d be running around anyway, at the beck and call of the people working the party should they need anything. She knew it was probably unnecessary as the people they’d hired were all professionals and some of the best in the industry. But she felt she would need to keep herself busy.

The first to arrive were Leo’s parents (Harry’s grandparents) and then Harry’s mom, Anne. Anne had been around a lot for the last few days helping Y/n get everything sorted. Y/n was actually quite fond of Anne. Harry’s mother was a saint. She loved that her relationship with Leo’s ex was so good.

“Where’s the birthday boy?” Anne smiled as she backed away from the hug Y/n had given her.

“Oh! I think he might still be getting ready. I believe he slept in late. Saw the back of his head about an hour ago and he appeared to be half asleep,” Y/n laughed.

As more of the guests arrived, Y/n noted the young women and men Harry had invited. Plenty of attractive and exciting college kids.

The music was started and drinks were being served but she still had not seen Harry. Nor Leo for that matter (though she wasn’t surprised to have not seen Leo – probably absorbed in his work).

Going inside and tiptoeing her way up toward Harry’s bedroom to urge him to come out and join his own party she found that his door was closed. She applied two knocks to the wood as she put her ear in close to hear anything.

When it was silent and the door didn’t open, she knocked again. Harder, “Harry? You in there? Party’s getting started without you!”

Suddenly the door was pulled open and before her was her stepson looking like he was ready to kill. Not kill in the way that was violent, but kill with his looks. Kill with the way he’d dressed and left half his buttons undone at the top, a sheer milky white shirt with cream embroidered flowers draping away from his chest and allowing peeks of his tattoos. Black, well-fitted jeans and black Chelsea boots. His signature cross necklace hung between his pecs.

“Wanted to be fashionably late. You know… birthday boy and all,” he raised his brows unamused at Y/n and she felt the condescension drip from his words, “After you… step mummy,” he gestured for her to lead the way.

She was stunned by his tiny attitude. It wasn’t much. He hadn’t been particularly rude but his tone and his cheek were new. He was normally very polite with her. Very sweet and all smiles.

She nodded as she began to head down the stairs, Harry behind her. The moment they walked out to the garden Harry headed in a direction away from her. Without a word. But that was good. He should go and have fun with his friends.

Y/n had invited Marla to the party, which she was thankful for. Marla kept her mind off the tall young man of the hour.

“I can never get over how fantastic this place is. And look at all this,” Marla waved her wine glass above her head as she gestured toward the decorations, “This looks magical! When I fall in love and get married, can I have my wedding here?”

“You have to find the right man first. Ryan’s not it.” They laughed together.

Y/n wasn’t nearly as busy as she thought she’d be. As she hoped she’d be. She drank a few glasses of wine and checked on the guests but Anne had most things under control as did the staff that were taking care of everything.

She kept wishing she had more to do because her eyes kept searching for Harry. She spotted him over and over again. He was drinking whisky, with his friends laughing, and of course, there was one girl he was talking to.

She scolded herself at the touch of jealousy she felt. The girl was Harry’s age. Lovely young thing. But when she saw just the two of them talking as Harry had a hand flat on the bench behind the girl she hated how close they were standing. How flirty he looked. She especially didn’t like that the girl would reach out for his buttons and pluck at them every so often.

But why should she be jealous? He was a 21-year-old guy and he was her stepson. It was quite silly to feel anything other than happiness for him.

The cherry on top was after Leo gave his speech and everyone toasted and then the DJ began to play house music. The dance floor was packed and Y/n watched on as Harry and the young girl danced together, much in the same way he’d danced with her two weeks prior. His lanky body moved behind hers, his hand at her hip, his face close to her ear as he said god-knows-what to her.

She wanted to go out and dance too. There was no reason for her to not dance. Just because Harry was out there, enjoying his time, she didn’t need to wallow at the edge and watch the fun.

“Let’s dance!” Y/n pulled Marla with her to the dance floor.

It was just like their normal Friday night outings and since the night before they didn’t get to go out because Y/n had been busy with the party setup, tonight would be girl’s night for her and Marla.

The two laughed and moved their bodies to the beat, holding their wine glasses as level as they could so it didn’t slosh out.

She was finally having fun. Finally felt the anxiety and the guilt melt away as she danced and drank a little more wine. She had been silly to be jealous or upset. There was no reason for any of that.

But then she saw his eyes on hers. He hadn’t been looking at her all night. She figured that was for the best. But now he was watching her as he danced with the girl in the white mini-dress. His gaze was cold. His face set in a glowering smirk as he spoke something to the girl. She watched as the young woman leaned her head back to look up at Harry and his lips nipped at the space just below her ear.

She felt she could vomit. It was too much. She thought she was okay but she didn’t want to see that. Didn’t want to watch as Harry kissed anyone else and looked at her with such disdain. Was he mad at her?

She excused herself to Marla and rushed into the big house, moving into the kitchen to set her glass down. There were people in the house. Chatting, laughing, and some even dancing inside.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she leaned over the island and tried to calm her brain. What was she doing? What was wrong with her?

Warm hands covered the tops of her shoulders and the deep rasp of her stepson was in her ear before she could even open her eyes, “I need to talk to you.”

She jumped in surprise and turned around quickly as Harry ticked his head toward the stairs and he began heading toward them. She followed behind, moving up the steps with him and she assumed he would want to talk in the hallway or his room but he continued walking past his door and to the other side of the house toward her bedroom.

Without even a pause he opened her door and entered her room as if he owned it. As if it were his room.

She followed in behind him, her face set in confusion. She couldn’t know what he was going to say or what he wanted to talk about.

“Was offered a blowjob,” he blurted out as he paced. “From Leslie. She’s cute and I’m… anyway… I wanted to tell you,” he stopped and looked at Y/n, moving toward her, “in case you wanted to… maybe you’d changed your mind or-“ he ran a hand through his hair.

“What?” She was stunned, “You… why are you telling me?”

“Because I want… you, Y/n.” He said with finality.

Harry was stood close with his pink lips parted as he looked down at Y/n. He was serious. He was dead serious and she was surprised. The young girl was pretty and she wanted to give him a blowjob… “Me? What about… Leslie? She’s so cute and-“

“Not as cute as you. Ever since that night, I can’t stop thinking about you.” He cocked his head and smirked, “And I like this look,” Harry moved his hand to the material of her dress gently before letting his hand drop down to his side, “Perfect length so no one gets any ideas about you. A modest silhouette. Your hair falling out of this bun you tried to hold it in,” his hand moved upward again to push the hair off her shoulder that had indeed come undone from the bun.

“You must have had too much to drink. I’m not what you’re looking for-“

“You are. You are exactly what I’ve been looking for. And I’m not drunk, Y/n. Not even close.”

Her breaths deepened as Harry’s hand stayed at her neck where he’d pushed her hair. His thumb rubbed over her pulse point slowly. And he was suffocating, crippling her resolve. Making her question her sanity. She couldn’t allow this. Could she?

“Well, it doesn’t matter. I can’t. We… we can’t.”

Harry licked his lips, “We can actually because no one would know. Want it to be you. Want you to show me. I trust you.” He didn’t lose his composure as his palm moved upward and his thumb brushed the outer corner of her mouth.

She closed her eyes and allowed her mouth to part the slightest. She didn’t know what she was doing. Letting him stand so close. Letting him speak to her about this. Letting him touch her lips. Letting his words sink into her core.

“Harry…” she breathed out his name as she felt the pad of his thumb press over her bottom lip. Her eyes remained closed. This wasn’t happening. If she kept her eyes closed she wasn’t here and this wasn’t happening. It was just a fantasy.

The trouble was though, that it was happening. And even with her eyes closed she could feel him and how he was standing so close she could smell the whisky on his breath and feel his body heat next to hers. Feel his thumb push past her lips the slightest as her tongue poked out to taste the tiniest bit. Felt his hand grip her face and his smooth mouth on hers and his hand on her waist and his chest pressed to hers.

She forced her fingers into his hair and moaned into his mouth but then- in a sudden moment of clarity, she pushed at his chest and shook her head, “This is wrong. We can’t, Harry. You get that, right?”

Harry backed away and looked down at his feet, “I do. You don’t want me.”

She nearly blurted out to him that that was incorrect. That she did want him. That she’d fantasized about him far too often but it was unhealthy and it could only lead to disaster.

Instead, she stayed quiet. He needed to drop this. She needed to stop this. It had gone too far.

When he left her room she sat down on her bed. Now she’d gone and kissed him. Tasted his lips and the way he kissed her felt so real and so passionate. She’d missed that bit of passion. That sort of enthusiasm. It wasn’t something Leo gave her at all. She didn’t even know it was something she was missing. But Harry had woken something up in her. Ever since that night. And now the kiss had felt like she was beyond getting back to ignoring that need she’d buttoned up and pushed down. She wanted more. But that couldn’t happen.

She was surprised by Harry’s gall too. He was quite pushy, which she hadn’t expected of him. Harry, who was so gentle and thoughtful and sweet was really adamant about pursuing her.

Her tummy was still warm and filled with butterflies. He’d kissed her. And she wanted to take it further but she couldn’t. That was out of the question.

. . .

When most of the guests had gone and the house grew quiet Y/n sat outside under the twinkle lights. She’d turn them off before going in and calling it a night but she wanted a few moments of peace with the last bit of the bottle of wine she’d worked her way through after Harry had gone and scrambled her good sense.

Good sense. What a laugh. As if she had any good sense after that night at the bar. It should have never gotten as far as it had.

Y/n was also sitting outside in hopes of making sure Leslie left before she went back in. Or at least gave Harry enough time to get his blowjob or whatever it was that was going on in his bedroom.

Because Y/n was well aware that Harry had her in there. He made a show of it in fact.

When she’d gotten back outside after calming herself from the kiss, Harry had Leslie against the side of the house with his tongue down her throat. And as much as she tried to ignore that and pretend she wasn’t bothered by it, she was bothered. It hurt her feelings but she shouldn’t feel hurt. Harry should be doing things with girls his age and losing his virginity to anyone that wasn’t his stepmom.

But she kept looking over at them and when she caught Harry gazing back at her as he kissed Leslie she could almost feel her hair singe in anger. He was doing it on purpose. To make Y/n jealous.

And before he brought her into the house he casually introduced Leslie to her and then leaned in to whisper to Y/n with his whisky breath, “Last chance.”

So, not only was she a little hurt she was a little pissed. Because he was being downright bratty with it.

Half of her hoped that Leslie would take his virginity and he’d get it out of his system and that would be that.

The other part of her, the depraved, nonsensical evil bit that she kept pushed deep deep down away from anyone, wanted to make him pay for being a little jerk to her. She imagined spanking him even, which was ridiculous because he was so much larger than she was. As if he’d somehow fit over her lap and bare his ass to her for a spanking. She laughed at her thoughts but they didn’t end there.

The more wine that wound its way into her bloodstream the filthier her fantasies got. He’d grow hard after she punished him and then she’d show him what a real blowjob was like. Make him forget all about Leslie. She’d let him feel her throat on him but wouldn’t allow him to come. Instead, then she’d pull him down by his hair between her legs and guide him over her, giving him specific instructions for cunnilingus. And he’d keep licking at her and begging for more of her even after she’d come. He wouldn’t want to stop tasting her but then she’d tell him to stop – that only good boys deserve more.

Of course, the fantasy ends with him begging her to take his virginity and then making him eat his come from her pussy since he came too fast, like the virgin he is.

Depraved. But god was she turned on just thinking about it. She bet he’d like all that too.

Plucking her bottle of wine up she flicked the lights off and went into the house. No sense in staying outside and hoping Harry was quiet enough when she went inside. Plus she was quite tipsy and just needed to be put to bed.

Putting the bottle down on the counter she heard Leo sitting in the living room on a call.

It was nearly 2 am so she was surprised he was chatting with anyone but she could tell it was something for work. Plans for a business trip.

Instead of waiting and talking to him, she made her way up to her bedroom. She slowly passed Harry’s room and noticed that there was a light on but no noises to be heard, thankfully.

And she wasn’t jealous. Of course, she wasn’t. What was there to be jealous of?

After a warm shower and slathering her body in lotion, she opened her ensuite bathroom door and stopped dead in her tracks.

“What are you doing in here?”

Harry was lying on her bed, sprawled out on top of her comforter wearing the clothes he wore at his party minus his boots.

Harry lifted his head and snorted a laugh, “Wanted to say g’night to my stepmom. But then I laid on your bed,” Y/n could hear the slur in his speech and saw the way his eyes floated in his sockets as he looked at her, “and it’s so comfortable.” He pressed his palms down and moaned at the feel before plopping his head back onto her stack of feather pillows.

She stood over him and placed her hands at her hips. She was thankful she’d put on her robe before stepping out of her room. Half the time she opted to walk around her bedroom naked.

“Well, goodnight, then Harry. It’s time for you to go back to your room.”

Harry squeezed his eyes closed and the grin on his mouth widened as he spoke, “Mmm… but this feels so good. S’cozy right here.”

Y/n sat at the end of the bed and sighed. He was clearly drunk. Earlier he hadn’t been when she kissed him. Now, he was very clearly inebriated.

“Your bed is cozy too, though. You should go back to your room. Get some rest.”

Harry propped himself up by his elbows and planted his eyes on hers, “You’ve been in my bed? When?”

Shaking her head and laughing at the absurdity of this whole scenario she spoke, “I know your bed is comfortable because I helped Leo pick out your new mattress. It’s the same one as this.” She patted the bed under her.

Harry nodded slowly and she noticed his gaze at her cleavage so she tightened her robe just as there was a knock at her door.

A gasp fell from her lips and she shoved Harry off the bed, whispering, “Under the bed! It’s your father!”

Harry huffed a laugh and put his hands up in surrender, “Yes, ma’am.”

She hushed him as he scooted himself under her bed and Y/n ran to her bathroom door, “Yes!”

The door opened and Leo stepped in, a suitcase left in the doorway, “I just wanted to let you know I’ve got a sudden meeting tomorrow late morning so I’ve got to take the 5:00 am out to Savannah.”

Putting the towel up to her hair to act as if she’d just gotten out of the shower (she sort of had) she walked across the room to him, “Really? When will you be back?”

“Day after tomorrow. It’s a morning meeting, then golf, then dinner. Then the next morning I have a flight that gets me back in LA at noon.”

She smiled and slid her arms over his shoulders to bring him in for a quick hug and he caught her off guard by kissing her cheek and squeezing her back before pulling away, “Car’s outside waiting,” he ticked his head toward the door, “Tell Harry when he emerges tomorrow for me, will ya?”

When she shut her door and turned toward her bed she let out a breath of relief. She was glad Harry stayed quiet. But then she realized as she lifted her bed skirt that he’d fallen asleep down there.

Rolling her eyes she contemplated what to do. Leave him there? Wake him and help him back to his room? She really didn’t want to deal with getting him into his bedroom. Nor did she want to deal with a drunk Harry by waking him up. But ultimately her guilt wouldn’t let her leave him there on the floor. He deserved to sleep in a bed.

“Harry… come on… wake up. Leo’s gone,” she pushed at his arm gently, “Harry…” she said tunefully, elongating the yyyyyy at the end of his name.

Pulling at his arm she got him part of the way out from under her bed and lifted his arm up, “Come on… wake up,” she lightly patted his face and that seemed to do it.

Harry’s eyes opened up and landed on hers. Sparkling and green and soft. And drunk.

“Let’s get you up. Come on. Time for bed.” She helped him sit up and tucked herself under his arm and began to stand to help him upward. But he was dead weight.

“Can I please stay with you? Please, Y/n? Your bed is so soft.”

She looked at him as he spoke and she realized he was not going to make it to his room. He’d have to sleep on her bed.

But that was fine. She’d just put him in her bed and then go sleep in any of the other guest rooms. It was better than letting him sleep on the floor or attempting to walk him to his bedroom.

“You can sleep in my bed. That’s fine. Can you lift up with me?”

Harry’s smile took over his features and his pink lips looked wet and soft. He was super cute when he was drunk.

“For real?” Harry raised an arm and steadied himself with the edge of the bed, the other side assisted by Y/n as he was pushed upward to his feet.

“There we go. Okay…” Y/n nudged him to sit and Harry’s full weight fell onto the bed and he laughed.

He immediately went to grab at his pant button and Y/n paused and put her hand on his shoulder, “Uh, just lie down. I’ll go and get you some water. Be right back.”

She was doing her best. Truly. She was quite tipsy herself and her bed had been calling before Harry showed up in her room. And now here she was traipsing across the massive home to get her stepson a glass of water. She figured he’d appreciate that when he woke up in the morning. And she had hoped that by the time she returned to her room, he’d be asleep and she could sneak out and go to the nearest guest bedroom and crash there. She was tired.

But when she returned to her room, Harry had successfully pulled his pants and sheer button-up shirt off and was left in nothing but his grey boxer briefs. And he was not asleep.

Placing the water next to the side of the bed he was on, which was where she’d normally be sleeping she noted, Harry stretched his arms behind his head and smiled, “Hop in.”

She shook her head and laughed as she pulled her charger from the wall and grabbed her cell phone, “No, Harry. That’s not a good idea,” she turned off the lamp on the far side of the room and began to walk toward the door.

He sat up quickly, “Wait. You said… You’re not staying with me?”

Y/n turned to look at him, handsome and messy.

And her stepson she reminded herself.

“I’ll just be next door. Think it’s best we’re not sleeping in the same bed, Harry. Just lie down and-“

“No. Please,” Harry tried to pull himself out of the bed but his motions were lethargic and clumsy, “want you here. Just… stay with me. Please. I swear no funny business.”

She sighed and began to shake her head and repeat herself but when Harry started to place his long legs down onto the floor she rushed back to him so he wouldn’t hurt himself. That was her logic anyway. She didn’t want him to fall or crack his skull open.

Steadying him by his arms she pushed him back toward the bed, “Stay. You’ll hurt yourself.”

Harry hummed and reached up to put his fingers in her hair, “I’ll stay if you stay. If you go to the guest room I’ll just follow you like a puppy dog, Y/n.” His words were watery and his gestures were clumsy.

She closed her eyes and groaned. She was so tired. So tired. And she just wanted to lie down. And she certainly couldn’t have Harry attempting to follow her to another room and hurt himself by falling down the stairs or something.

“Fine. But you just go to sleep. I’ll stay here with you but you have to promise me you’ll go to sleep and behave.” She pointed at him.

Harry’s exaggerated grin returned as he laid his head back onto the pillow and watched her cross the room to turn off the last lamp.

Fuck, she cursed to herself under her breath. She’d forgotten to put on pajamas. She was naked under her robe.

But okay. No problem. She’d just leave her robe on and it would be fine.

Climbing into bed, on the odd side, she stretched her limbs as she laid flat and closed her eyes. She was just so tired.

“Thank you. For staying. I promise I’ll behave.”

. . .

Y/n’s alarm woke her up and she groaned and reached over to turn it off but instead, her palm found a bare, solid chest. She popped her eyes open and the events of the previous night had come rushing back. She let Harry sleep in her bed and she was reaching over toward where her phone normally was but she’d been on the opposite side of the bed.

Rolling over to press the alarm off she sighed as she snuggled back into her pillow. 6:45 am was too early to be up for a Sunday. She contemplated moving herself to a guest room since Harry was still asleep but her soft bed lulled her back into a deep sleep where her dreams were vivid and she found herself kissing Harry again. But this time, her dream took it further and she was on his lap and then they were in his bed. By any standards, it was a very good dream. A very good one.

So when she woke up for the second time that morning things were… different. Her head was not on her soft pillow and there was a hand on her bottom. She slowly came out of her easy dream state, still reeling from the kind of dream she’d just had of her stepson when she realized her cheek was smushed on Harry’s pec and it was Harry’s big palm on her bottom slowly, slowly, slowly moving down toward her thigh. He was awake.

Her dream-riddled brain mulled over what was happening. It was a slow rise but her awareness steadily stirred. Her robe had come undone and her thigh was over Harry’s. His chest was rising and falling gently and she realized her palm was over his heart, which she could feel thudding underneath. She had cuddled up to him like he was one of those body pillows.

It was nice. It felt soft and lazy and sweet to lie in her bed on a Sunday morning in the arms of a man. And the leftover remnants of her dream had her still feeling wound up.

Hesitantly, she moved her head to look upward and Harry’s hand halted when her gaze met his.

She could see him swallow and he spoke groggily, “Sorry. You were… I didn’t want to wake you.”

The way his sonorous voice reverberated from his chest against her skin and her shoulder made her meltier than she already was.

Her hand was still over his chest and she could feel his heart rate increase as he kept his eyes on hers, “It’s okay. Thank you for letting me sleep.” She was going to move. To get up and pull her robe securely around her body so he didn’t catch a glimpse of anything but she didn’t want to move. She wanted to bask in the heat of him for a little longer. To feel his fingers on her bare bottom for a few more moments. Perhaps to even feel him caressing her again. And maybe… just maybe…

She slid her palm up and scooted herself fully into his arms, her chest over his, and laid her head down against his shoulder, “Let’s just stay here a little longer. If that’s okay?”

Harry blinked his eyes and knew Y/n could feel the way his heart was lobbing around behind his ribs. His cock was already hard but she hadn’t figured that out yet and he didn’t want to scare her off because he did want to stay like that for longer. With her.

He pulled his arms around her, removing his hand from her bottom and bringing it up to wrap around her back, “That sounds perfect.” He was just glad she hadn’t moved too far up or her thigh would have come into contact with his erection and surely would have ruined the moment.

Y/n closed her eyes and indulged in the way his arms felt around her. Her bare hip was against his and it felt so salacious. So tender. Her breasts were pressed into his chest, with one of them uncovered and warm against his skin.

“Dad left for a meeting? On a Sunday?” Harry suddenly inquired. He had always been suspicious of his father’s frequent trips.

She nodded her head over his chest, “Yeah. Sometimes he has weekend meetings. It’s more like a golf outing than anything. Probably just some buddies getting together for some fun.”

“Hmm… You’re okay with him just heading out like that last minute?”

“Yeah. It’s normal. I’ve gotten used to it.”

He wasn’t sure that his father was a good husband to Y/n. He found it odd too that they had separate bedrooms. But he didn’t usually question it. However, this morning he was feeling soft toward her (well, soft emotionally… physically he was anything but soft) and wanted to protect her in some way.

Harry didn’t know how he was going to survive. His boner was only growing thicker and with the way she was wiggling over him, her thigh was nearly brushing against his –

Too late.

When she nudged at it, feeling him stiff against her thigh, she smiled to herself. She hadn’t looked down over his body but she half wondered if he was as turned on as she was. It was easier for her to hide what her dream had done to her and what being in his arms was causing to slip out from between her legs, but this pleased her.

“I’m sorry. That’s… I can’t help it.” Harry explained and Y/n lifted her head up and glanced down at where he was straining under his boxer briefs. It nearly startled her too. She hadn’t expected… that. And even though he was covered up with his underwear she understood that what he had going on there was… well she’d say he was a lucky guy and it was truly an outrage that there hadn’t been a lucky girl to try it out.

“Don’t apologize,” she looked back up at him and realized he’d been looking at her boob. The one not covered. And with the way she’d lifted herself upward to look down at him, her nipple was out for him to peek at.

She licked her lips and brought her hand down over his pec to lift herself further. Bot tits made their appearance and Harry groaned and looked away, “Sorry. Trying not to look.”

Gently putting her hand up to his jaw she turned his face to look at her, “Do you want to look?”

Harry’s eyes widened and he nodded, “Well, yeah. But I didn’t think you’d want me to.”

“You’ve seen breasts before right?” Y/n laughed and slid her thigh against his thickened cock, this time on purpose.

Harry kept nodding, “Yes. Quite a few. But just not yours.” His eyes danced over her nipples and back up to her eyes, almost to make sure it was okay.

She loved his deep, raspy morning voice. Loved how gentle and intimate the moment felt.

“Did you see Leslie’s breasts last night?” Y/n teased with a smile as she lowered herself down, her naked nipples pressing into his warm skin.

Shaking his head no he laughed, “Nah. She passed out. If you thought I was drunk last night, should have seen her. Nothing happened. Wouldn’t have been able to even if we wanted.”

When Y/n felt Harry’s hand timidly return to her low back and then ghost over her ass she let out a shaky breath. She couldn’t remove her eyes from his. He was so pretty and he deserved to be put out of his misery she thought. A bad idea, yes. But to hell with it.

Sliding her thigh further over him she pushed herself to straddle him and sat up over him. Biting her lip and looking down at his chest and smoothing her hands over the smattering of hair he had and the dark tattoos… he was sexy.

Harry couldn’t stop his eyes from taking her in. Her robe was draped over her sides but was open so he could see her breasts and her tummy, her belly button and he glanced back up at her and parted his lips as he risked moving his hands over her bottom. With the way she was looking at him and touching him, he felt the risk would be worth it.

“Squeeze a little,” she whispered as she put her hands over Harry’s and directed him to take a handful of her bottom in each palm. Harry swallowed hard and panted.

“Oh my god,” his words were spoken in a quiet breath as he relished in the feeling.

When she rocked her hips forward and dragged her core over his fabric-covered cock Harry gasped and his chest rose and fell in heavy breaths.

“I had a dream about you,” she spoke as she moved her hands back up his chest and to his face as she leaned over him, putting herself directly over his erection and ground herself over him, “It was really naughty. And I’m still worked up over it. Just tell me if you want me to stop,” her pussy was wetting the fabric of Harry’s crotch and he groaned before lifting his face upward and pressing his lips to hers. He definitely did not want her to stop.

The haste of the kiss was hectic and chaotic. Harry pushed the robe off her shoulders and she flung the thick cotton down onto the floor before placing her fingers into the band of his underwear, “Let’s take a look.”

She sat back and pulled his underwear down so his cock sprung out. She continued lowering the material until his balls were free and she moaned, “It’s really pretty. Can I suck you off?”

Harry brought a hand up to his arm and pinched his skin, wincing when he felt the sting. He wasn’t sure he was really awake. Not only was Y/n completely naked on top of him, she was licking her lips and asking if she could suck him off.

“Fuck. Please yes.”

“Do you like to beg, Harry?” She grinned as she crawled herself backward to put her face above his lovely cock.

“For you, I will.”

“Mmm… such a good boy,” she looked up at him as she licked along the underside of his shaft and Harry choked out a moan. His thighs were already quivering. She figured he wouldn’t last long but that was fine for what she had in mind.

Her mouth was watering so wetting him properly wasn’t too hard as her tongue slid over his hard prick. She dotted kisses along the way and looked up at his eyes and then down to his pretty dick.

Using her hand, a palm she licked and wetted, she gently massaged his balls as she finally pulled his tip into her mouth. She lowered over him as much as possible on the first go before bringing herself off of him, “Want you to come down my throat. Okay? Want to taste you.”

Harry’s face was twisted up in ecstasy already and she hadn’t done that much, “I’m gonna come too fast.” He whined.

Shaking her head and licking over his tip she whispered against his throbbing cock, “Be a good boy and come down my throat, Harry. It’s okay if you come fast. Just feel my mouth and my tongue on you and enjoy it. Can you do that for me?”

“Ffuck…” Harry threw his head back into the pillow as she drew him back into her mouth and began sucking, “M’gonna be your good boy. Yes.”

Harry’s voice was shaky and his groans were progressively louder as she took him deeper. He clutched the blankets tight as his stepmom fondled his balls and sucked on his cock.

He’d been given blow jobs before. But already this one was far and away the best he’d ever had. Y/n was sensual and confident and she knew what she was doing. When her eyes found his every few moments that was his favorite. Watching as she looked at him dreamily with his cock in her mouth was a picture that would be seared into his mind for all eternity. Better than porn. Because it was real.

“Ahh! Shit! M’coming, please!” Harry shouted and moaned as his hands finally found their place in her hair out of instinct.

He’d pressed on her just enough that her nose was pushed into his pubes and she felt his twitching prick beating and pumping as come gushed from his tip. He came a lot. She couldn’t breathe or move but she kept her jaw wide and gagged around him as he crammed himself further into her throat and he cursed and moaned and rolled his hips upward in orgasm.

When he’d finally drained himself of everything he had he loosened his grip on her hair and she pulled up, gasping and coughing.

Harry’s fucked out gaze was adorable, she thought. A small smile on his face with pink cheeks and a splotchy red chest from the exertion of his orgasm.

She leaned over him and grasped his jaw, causing his mouth to fall open as she spit down over his tongue, “Swallow.”

Harry gulped down her mix of saliva and his come before his pink lips curved up into a big smile, “Yes ma’am.”

Y/n chuckled and then kissed him before pushing herself upward to climb off but Harry caught her arm before she could get too far, “Wait. You don’t want me to like…”

“Of course I do. But only if you want to. Have you ever eaten anyone out before?”

Harry pushed himself up by his elbows and nodded, “Yeah. Wouldn’t say I’m any good at it. Not sure I could make you come.”

There was a thrill that filed down her spine and to her toes. She didn’t need to come. She just loved how it felt to have someone with their face between her legs. It had been a while. Leo didn’t often give her cunnilingus.

“But do you want to?” She asked pointedly. She wouldn’t dream of having him do something he didn’t like.

“Fuck yes. Just show me what you like and I’ll do it.”

Harry released her wrist and she put her bottom onto the mattress and stuffed pillows behind her so she could sit up and watch. She loved the way Harry was watching her body and how dark his eyes were. He’d just orgasmed but she was confident he’d grow hard again soon. And then perhaps she could give him what he really wanted.

“Take your underwear off the rest of the way.”

Harry got up to his knees and nodded, “Yes ma’am.” A sly smirk on his lips at the new nickname he’d been using for her.

Y/n had never been a fan of being called ma’am. She felt she was too young to be a ma’am but when Harry did it in this context, it got her blood pumping wildly through her veins.

When Harry’s boxer briefs were long gone she pulled at his wrist as she opened her legs up, “Start off just exploring. I’ll guide you if you want. Use your fingers, lips, tongue… and try to keep your eyes on mine.”

Harry licked his lips and knelt over her, his hands finding her outer thighs first and spreading her wider as he looked over her glistening pussy, “So wet. Is this for me?”

His question was a surprise to her. But it was definitely lined with something innocent. Almost as if he hadn’t expected her to be in the state she was in.

Nodding her head slowly and smiling she spoke, “All for you. That’s what you did to me and you haven’t even touched me yet.”

Harry’s dimples poked into his cheeks as he shyly smiled, “Just trying to be a good boy for you ma’am.”

He jutted his tongue out and licked upward from her seeping entrance to her clit and she moaned softly as she watched him. He kept his eyes on her pussy at first. She wanted him to look up at her but she allowed him a moment to get acquainted.

He used one of his hands to gently spread her labia and lick upward again, stopping at her clit and flicking it just the tiniest bit.

“God. You know where the clit is, don’t you? That’s really good, Harry.”

He finally looked back up at her as he mouthed over her pussy and sucked gently. She keened and smiled, “Yes! Keep doing that.”

So he did. He sucked and licked, giving special treatment to her clitoris and he moaned over her as he closed his eyes and lapped at her, and kissed his way around her cunt slowly.

“Finger me. Put two in. Like this,” she reached down to his hand and twisted so his palm was upward and then pulled on his pointer and middle finger, nudging the pads of his fingers to her entrance.

His long digits inside of her didn’t disappoint. He pressed them in and pulled out slowly as he continued lapping and sucking and she gasped into the room.

She looked down at him after the initial recovery of his fingers inside of her for the first time and he was already watching her. She slid a hand over her body, stopping at her breasts for a moment before pushing her fingers into his hair, “You’re so good for me, Harry. Just like that…” she was breathless.

Harry clamped his eyes closed at her praise and used his free hand to reach up and touch her left tit. He kneaded at her flesh and then circled the pads of his fingers over her nipple slowly and she mewled, “Come up here. Suck on my breasts,” she pulled at his hair a little to lift his face, “Keep your fingers inside of me.”

Harry did as she said, pumping his fingers into her as he moved up over her body and latched on to the breast he’d been fondling. He was a star pupil. His tongue laved sensually over her areola and he continued looking at her as he stuffed his fingers knuckles deep.

Sucking on her nipple and pulling away he moved to the other side and a muffled moan vibrated over her chest and she felt his cock against her thigh. He was aroused. Thick and full once again. She knew this would happen. Or at least she hoped it would.

Harry drew his tongue to the underside of her breast and sucked in tightly, pinching her skin and she gasped as she watched him work. He moved to her other side, repeating his gesture and bruising the underside of her boob with an intense suckle that had her flesh turning purple nearly instantly.

“Fuck, Harry.”

She had little need to guide him much. He was passionate enough and horny enough that everything he was doing was just right by her standards.

Harry popped off her nipple and looked up at his stepmom with eyes that brimmed with lust and need, “I want you so bad. Please…” his dark pink lips were wet and set in a pout as he pulled his brows together. He looked like he was in pain. But he didn’t cease fucking into her with his fingers.

Y/n carded her fingers into his hair and cooed at him, “What do you want, baby? Tell me.”

She was aware of what he wanted. But somehow she was getting off on having him tell her and ask and beg with his big puppy dog eyes and pouty lips.

Harry’s hips dipped down so his prick sat in the spot right next to her pussy. She was wet all over and there was a nice little bit of glid for Harry right there as he removed his fingers from her cunt and pushed them into his mouth. He was holding himself over her with one arm as he licked her essence from his digits before pulling them out to steady himself with both arms, “You. Want to… be with you. I’m so hard again.”

She knew what he wanted. And maybe it was the haze of the dream she’d had or a sudden lack of inhibition on her part, but she wanted the same thing. And his pretty cock would feel nice wrenching into her insides and poking deeply into the viscera.

Y/n nudged at him to move back so she could sit up further, “Are you sure? Because that means you won’t be a virgin anymore. I don’t want to have you regret anything.”

Harry shook his head, “I don’t care about being a virgin. The stigma. Never mattered. But,” he put his palm over the top of her thigh and looked at her with hooded eyes, “I know you’ll show me how good it is. I trust you. Only if you want me.”

The sting of warmth shrouded her neck and then her heart. He was sweet and he was convincing.

Nodding her head she put her palm over his cheek and smiled, “I do want you. And I trust you too. Which means this has to stay between us. No one can know.”

Harry nodded. The tiny bit of scruff on his face scratched at her skin as he turned to kiss her palm and grasp her wrist in his hand, “Then, please. Just tell me what to do and how you want it. I’ll be so good for you.”

Intertwining their fingers, Y/n pulled at him to give him a soft kiss. Wet. Trembling. They both were. This was either the biggest mistake of their lives or the beginning of an extraordinary secret. They both knew it. It would change everything. It already had. They’d already given in.

Whispering as she scraped his scalp and dotted kisses at the edge of his mouth, “Do you want a condom? Will that make you feel better? I can’t get pregnant so that’s not an issue and everything else is good in that regard. Up to you.”

Y/n always wore condoms with Leo, at his insistence. Because of their agreement. An open marriage if you will. But with Harry, she’d forego the barrier knowing he was a virgin.

“Do you want me to wear one? I do have some that I’ve never used,” he laughed as he spoke the word used.

“I’d like to feel you just like this,” she lowered her hand to his throbbing shaft and inhaled sharply at how warm and thick he was in her hand, “If that’s okay.”

Harry closed his eyes and nodded, “More than okay.”

“Good. Now. When you fantasize about having sex. What position are you in the most?” Y/n wanted to have him start off with what he fantasized about. She knew he’d like any position, most men did.

The edge of Harry’s mouth quirked up as he breathed out a laugh, “Just… all of them. But, normally I’m on top,” he swallowed.

“That’s good. Let’s start there.” She lay back and spread her legs, gently pulling at him to follow.

Harry put himself between her thighs and brought his palms down to the mattress on either side of her shoulders.

“Push your hips down and line up over me,” She took her hand and guided him so that his heavy cock was slipping through her labia, getting coated in her slick, “Yes, now, move back and forth and just feel how wet I am like this. How it’s getting all over you before you even need to push inside. Feels good right?” Harry’s mouth was dropped open and he nodded, “Yes.”

“Mmm… feels good to me too. When you do that, your tip is hitting my clit. See?” She looked down between their bodies, urging Harry to do the same.

He groaned as he continued gliding through her wet pussy lips, “Fuck. So pretty.”

The sound alone was sexy. Her pussy was really wet and the noise that his dick caused with each pass through her folds was pornographic.

“We’re pretty together, aren’t we?”

He nodded and moaned, moving himself a little faster.

“Such a good boy. Now, I want you to kiss me. Keep your mouth on mine and then when you’re ready, put your delicious cock inside of me. Okay?”

Another moan fell from his lips as he lowered himself to kiss her mouth. Y/n licked over his lips and Harry opened up and used his tongue against hers as he slowly pushed his engorged dick up and down, nudging her clit on each upward thrust. His mouth was watering as he got himself into position, putting his knees down to steady himself and rearing back to align his pink tip with her puffy, wet entrance.

Never removing his lips from hers as he continued kissing her and sipping at her tongue he dipped gently into her. First, his wide head barely smoothed into her until he was met with resistance from the small muscle of her vaginal opening.

She could feel him hesitate, knowing he wasn’t sure if it was too much. She smiled into the kiss and spoke, “Just push. It’s like that on purpose. A little tight on the first go but once you’re in there it’s so good. You’re just a little thick so this is gonna be normal for you. Gotta just press in past my tight opening.”

The whimper that fell from his mouth before he pushed his lips back to hers made her head spin. But what really got her was when he did as she said and pushed in through her muscle and slid himself in half way.

They both gasped, parting from the kiss. There it was. He was inside of her. He moaned into her mouth as he pulled back so his tip was pulled out and then reentered, pushing past that tight muscle again as he licked into her mouth.

It was good. She knew it would feel good. His hard cock was heavy and thick and as he pressed himself in until he couldn’t push any further she gasped at how deep he was.

Harry was on a different plane of existence in that moment. He’d given his virginity to the hottest woman he’d ever met and now he was allowed to fuck her. She’d given him permission and he’d given her permission and his dick had never ever felt so good.

He’d had his cock sucked and he’d used toys with lube that mimicked pussy, but this was… warm and real. And it smelled like her and his mouth still tasted like her and she was moaning as he moved into her. She was enjoying it too. And that… that was the best part.

He continued moving his mouth over hers as he thrust his way into her as deep as he could get until his balls were pressed into her bum. He was more than thankful that he’d already come so he could last a bit longer. He’d still come embarrassingly fast, he was sure, but now he had a little advantage. Instead of three minutes, possibly ten? He hoped. At minimum. Because he didn’t want this feeling to ever end. He’d fuck his stepmom for the rest of his life if it felt this way. They could just stay like this in her bed, slipping together and kissing and being connected.

A knock at the door and the voice of a female was heard from behind the wood.

Harry stopped his movements and Y/n grasped onto him with one hand to keep him still and put her finger up to her mouth, “Who’s there?”

“I’m Harry’s friend, Leslie. Sorry to bother you. I didn’t know where he went.”

Harry’s breaths were rapid as he stared down at the pretty woman he was inside of. He’d totally forgotten about Leslie.

“Uh… I think he left? Maybe? Not sure hon! I’m in the middle of something and…” she didn’t know how to get rid of the girl. She didn’t want to be rude but she was truly very much in the middle of something. Something very good. She was just thankful that the door was locked.

Harry slowly began thrusting again as he kept his eyes on Y/n’s, holding himself up over her.

“That’s okay! Sorry! I’ll be leaving. Just tell Harry I will talk to him later!”

The smirk on Harry’s face as he began to press in harder had Y/n’s tummy on fire, or perhaps it was his lengthy cock pushing into her guts, “Thank fuck she’s gone. In the middle of losing my virginity here,” he laughed as he rocked his hips sharply and Y/n grunted at the harsh thud.

“Oooh… fuuu….” Y/n moaned with a smile as he did it again, “So good like that. You gonna fuck me a little harder now? Be a good boy and make it hurt a little.”

Harry was a good listener. Had always been. This time was no different. He began to plunge into her with a dizzying drag, forceful and trenchant. Just like she liked. Especially when it was Harry doing it.

“Like that? You want it like that?” He punctuated his words with each rut of his hips.

“Yeah, just like that,” she scraped her nails over his back and keened as her body was rocked upward on each of his thrusts, “How do you feel? Tell me what it’s like.”

Harry’s hips stuttered as he brought the cadence down so he could speak, “Fuck, it’s good. So fucking nice,” he wanted to say more about how it felt. Wanted to tell her he could do this with her forever and that her pussy was the only one he’d want to fuck from now on (he was sure of that). Wanted to blurt out that she was so pretty and how perfect they looked together. But he held back with the understanding that his lust was clouding the things his heart was feeling at that moment.

“Tell me mmm… oh yes! Right there!” She closed her eyes and bit her lip to keep from shouting loudly when Harry ground into her just right, not sure if Leslie was still in the house or not, “Tell me what it feels like inside of me.”

Harry’s panted words were slow and deep, “Like I’m gonna come harder than I ever have. It’s so warm and smooth. Gripping me so tight. Never want it to stop…” his hips smacked against hers as he moved into her with a hungry force.

Her mouth was wide open as her breaths were being knocked out of her lungs and her tits swayed under him.

Harry looked down at his sexy stepmom with her lusty face and body and he lowered down to wrap his lips around hers. She brought her legs over his back and pushed at his bottom with her heels to urge him deeper.

Using his forearms to hold himself up he rolled his hips into her slowing down his pace to make it last. He wanted to feel her like this for a little longer. He knew he could come soon.

Wet squelches between their bodies where they were connected and sliding together with no barriers and tiny creeks from the mattress filled the room. The sound of illicit sex. The sound of something happening that was so wrong that it was good. So good.

Y/n could tell Harry was going to come as his breaths heaved and his thighs trembled against her each time he pushed in, “Harry… you feel so good filling me up. I want to come too,” her words were panted as Harry sliced into her deeply and stilled his hips as he looked down at her.

“Want you to come too. What do you need, Y/n?” Harry’s chest rose and fell quickly as he pushed his thumb over her cheekbone.

“Is it okay if I get on top and ride you how I like? Always come when I get on top.”

Harry smiled and licked into her mouth for a good moment, pulling at her lips and grinding into her further so she could feel him as deep as he could possibly go before, pulling back and gently bringing her thighs down as she placed her feet flat onto the mattress.

Y/n sat up and ogled Harry’s body as he turned and moved to his side. She crawled over him, pushing him down to his back, and sat over her knees between his legs. She brushed her palms up his sturdy thighs up to his hips, never touching his throbbing prick before leaning over him and kissing his right thigh upward to the apex of his thigh and crotch, careful to leave him wanting. Repeating the same worship on his left thigh but taking a little time over the tiger tattoo. She looked up at him as she licked over the ink and then continued kissing her way up, devastatingly close to where he needed her. So close.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Harry. All of you,” she brushed her hands up over his laurels and to the butterfly that was rising and falling with his breath, “I’m surprised you haven’t found someone special already.” She praised. As she lowered her lips to his belly button he felt her hair ghost over his cock and whimpered.

Y/n smiled into his skin as she grazed her teeth gently upward to the butterfly licked around the lines before dotting hot kisses over his pecs, “Please… please…”

Raising her face and looking up at her stepson, “Please? What is it, baby? What do you need?” Her smirk was devious. Harry loved it. He fucking loved every single thing she was doing.

“Wanna feel you on top. Gonna burst.”

Lowering her lips back to his pecs she sucked a nipple passed her lips and nipped. Harry threw his head back into the pillow and coughed out a loud groan, “Ask me nicely. Like a good boy. You’ll get anything you want from me if you’re good, Harry.” Her words were breathed out over his skin and the spattering of chest hair. Her lips made their way up to the swallows.

“Please, ma’am. I want to feel you on top. If you… ffuck… please.”

Her grin did not disappear as she licked and pecked her way up to his neck, “I’m dripping for you, Harry. Such a sweet boy with such a big cock for me to play with. Isn’t that right?”

Harry was going to lose it. This was his fantasy. No. It was better than anything he imagined. Y/n was better. He loved being put in his place because most of the time no one ever challenged him. Or made him feel this way.

“Y…yes. Just for you.”

Y/n sat up and straddled him, placing her knees down on the mattress to the sides of his hips. Finally. She placed her messy cunt over his shaft and slid herself up toward his frenulum and down toward his base, “Just for me. That’s right. Gonna let me play with your cock and fuck myself on it and make myself come, yeah?”

Harry nodded frantically and placed his palms on her hips as she leaned forward and placed her hands over his pecs, “When I start to ride you I’m gonna go slow, up and down like this,” she demonstrated by repeating the motion of her hips, tilting her pelvis down and letting her clit drive up and down over him as she panted, “so I can keep my clit in contact with your pelvis and I’m gonna come pretty fast. I need you to let me come before you do. And if you want you can come inside of me. That’s up to you. Just let me know what you want.”

Harry nodded, “It’s okay if I come inside of you?”

“Yes, it is. Would love it if you did but it’s your choice in the end. Can come in my mouth again if you want, or my tits. Whatever you like.”

“Inside of you, please. That’s what I want.”

“Mmm… such a good boy,” she tilted herself down so her breasts ghosted over his chest as she kissed him softly, lips moving with his and small sips of tongue before she slowly sunk down over him. That same mouthwatering initial push of his wide tip into her opening snapped and then spread her apart, “Hhharry! Fuck your dick is so fucking good!”

He couldn’t speak. It was so intense. His fingers gripped her hips as she shifted over him slowly. Her nails pinched into the flesh over his muscled pectorals and he felt his balls tighten. Her moans and pretty mouth with her tongue peeking out had him leaking steadily with pre cum, “I’m trying…” he gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. Her tits swayed as she rode him and the way she felt on him had him tipping too fast, “Fuck… Want you to come first…”

She cooed and slowed her hips, sitting upright and changing the position of him inside of her. Deeper yet as she leaned back gently and looked down to where his cock was buried into her.

Harry chanced a peek, not wanting to miss it, and he was not ready for the sight. He groaned and brought one hand from her hip to her clit and then looked up at her before focusing back on the way his cock spread her pussy lips as he thumbed over her clit.

“My sweet boy. Just hang on. This feels so perfect. Just want to soak it in with you.” She lowered her hand over his fingers where he was circling over her button and she hissed, “Gonna make me come so hard Harry,” she swayed her hips back and forth, keeping herself upright so they could enjoy the lurid show of their connected bodies.

Currents of hot arousal coursed through her body as she clenched over him and felt his cock nudging her cervix. It was a tight fit but it had her body leaning into an orgasm.

She leaned back forward, Harry’s fingers pushed away as he placed his hand back onto her hip and she slid up and down, dragging her clit into his pelvis and her gasps and fluttering walls signaled to Harry she was coming.

He closed his eyes and felt sweat at his temple as he felt her squeezing and pulsing as she moaned his name and he felt her thighs shaking, “Yes… yes! Harry! I need you… need this… Hhaaarry… fuck! Fffuck!”

The mattress moved and creaked under Harry’s back as his stepmom got off on his cock and Harry was certain he was already filling her up with gushes of his pre-come. He was doing his best but he’d never experienced a cunt squeezing around him in orgasm. It was witchcraft and he was obsessed. He’d never be the same.

“Come! Harry, come inside of me baby…” she moaned as she continued rocking over him, everything slick and smooth between them.

Harry choked out the loudest moan and he was so far gone he couldn’t be bothered to care how vocal it was. He didn't care if anyone heard it. He was coming and his sight dimmed as he pumped into his stepmom’s pussy as she milked him with her spasming muscle. Together their moans were the music of relief.

Y/n could feel him throbbing and pulsing inside of her as he released his sperm into her aching and slippery inner tissues. He was punching into her so deep from below her it made her quiver in euphoric pain. She leaned over him and attached their mouths as he finished himself inside of her. She grasped his head on each side, her fingers in his thick hair to keep his head tilted up so their lips could move together.

He'd come undone completely. Tears pricked at his eyes and slid down his cheeks as he whined into her mouth and attempted to kiss her in return. He moved his hands to her ass and pressed her down as he lifted his hips so he could burrow in deep causing her to gasp and then squeak at the punishing plunge.

“Fuck, Harry!”

They were both shivering and heaving and kissing with saliva-covered lips and moans and wildly beating hearts.

When he’d calmed he sucked in a sharp breath as she collapsed over him and snuggled her face into his neck. They were sweaty and sticky and hot but it felt precious and perfect.

Harry closed his eyes and basked in the way Y/n felt on top of him, her warm breath at his neck, her wet pussy soothing his softening cock as his heart calmed. He dragged his hands up from her bottom to her back and rubbed along her spine, the pads of his fingers slipping through the layer of sweat that had formed.

He felt her lips pucker at his neck and then her nose push upward until her lips were at his jaw and then she pushed up to look down at him.

“Are you okay?”

Harry couldn’t imagine not being okay as long as he was getting fucked like that. But the issue was that Y/n was not just some girl he could date and then fall in love with. There would be no possibility of them being together. In fact, he was unsure that this would ever happen again and that had his heart sinking before he could even answer her.

She noticed the look of unease over his features and she swiped at his cheeks with her thumbs, “Hey… what’s wrong? I’m sorry, was that-“

“No. That was everything I ever wanted it to be. It was perfect, Y/n. I’m… fine. I’m okay. Just thinking.”

She nodded as she moved herself off of him and lay on her side to talk to him. He followed her and rolled to his side, his hands not leaving her hips, not yet ready to be rid of this moment.

“Tell me. What are you thinking about it? You can talk to me.” Her fingers brushed over his arms and up to his shoulders as she watched his glassy eyes closely.

Harry smiled sadly and shook his head, “It’s stupid. It’s not your problem.”

Y/n sighed and lifted her leg to drape her thigh over his, “Talk to me. Please. We just did something very risky and now we’re treading in dangerous water. Let’s keep open with each other. Okay? Because there’s no one else to talk to about this,” she grazed her knuckles along his cheekbone, “Pretty boy. Please talk to me.”

He took a deep breath as he closed his eyes to gather the thoughts brimming from his head.

“I don’t know how I’m ever gonna forget about this and move on.” He opened his eyes to look at her and slowly smoothed his palm over her side and to her breast, “I really like you. I’m feeling things that maybe I shouldn’t.”

Y/n nodded and swallowed. She loved the way his fingers ghosted over her nipple and how glassy his green eyes were, how gentle, “Me too.”

He blinked his eyes, all shiny eyelids and damp lashes covering and then revealing his pretty irises, “You do? Feel things?”

She grinned and closed her eyes. It felt like a lot. She wasn’t in love with him or anything and this had been a mistake for sure. An epic error. But she was feeling something. His warmth and his heart and his excitement. It transferred over to her veins and her skin and the roots of her hair and sparked a longing for something. When she opened her eyes again she licked her lips, “Yeah. I like you a lot. Wouldn’t have gotten this far if I didn’t.”

“Would you… consider doing it again? With me? Like,” he clenched his jaw and brought his hand up to her clavicle, “a thing just for us. Our secret?”

He was sure she’d say no.

Biting her lips she lifted herself and pulled Harry’s bottom arm under her head so she could draw in closer to him. She just wanted to be as close as possible. She brought her hand to lie flat over his heart and tilted her head back to look up at him, her thigh still braced over his hip. He moved his hand down her body to the back of her thigh as she adjusted herself in close.

“It’s so bad. What we’ve just done. It crosses a line. So many invisible lines,” she whispered as she traced her finger upward to his neck, “But… I guess I don’t care. Because I wanna keep doing it. I guess that makes me a terrible person.”

Stitching his brows together he frowned, “You’re a beautiful person, Y/n. So kind and smart,” he squeezed her hip and pulled her up to his mouth so he could kiss her. His stepmom, his lover, his paramour. He pulled back, his nose pressed to hers, “If you’re a terrible person then I’m right there with you. Let’s be terrible people together.”

They both laughed at Harry’s words and grinned widely.

It was ludicrous. A wild suggestion to continue their illicit affair. Of course, it would be easy. Too easy. That is as long as no one ever found out.

“Do I have you for the rest of the day?” Y/n tucked herself in closer as she asked.

“That you do. And I think there’s so much more for you to teach me. Might be a really late night for us.”

“Oh definitely, until the wee hours. So many things you need to learn before I let you leave.”

Next part: 2. No panties? | A Good Boy Masterlist

A/N: What did you think? I have so many ideas for this story but I didn't want it to get any longer than it already is. Would you guys be interested in seeing more? Let me know!

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gushhyyy · 8 months ago

Text

Happy birthday to me ꨄ

Synopsis: two’s company and three’s a party, luckily it’s Onys birthday.

An: as always thoughts will be italicized, without further a due hold on to your panties

Prompt: “this is beyond sex I’m high on you.” Dance for you by Beyoncé

Warnings and parings: blk!Ony x blk!reader (Junie) x stripper(Gina), drinking, smoking, descriptions of a strip club, making out, sloppy kissing, pussy eating, dick sucking, scissoring, doggystyle, cursing, and probably more that I didn’t catch

You and Jabari wouldn’t consider yourselves swingers but you liked to have fun, more often than not you had fun by yourselves but other times you’d invite others into your sexcapades. You guys had rules that you both stuck to make sure that everything was clear and everyone was safe.

1. Both parties must be attracted to the invitee

2. All parties would get tested before any fun took place.

3. Be open and honest at all times to all parties

4. There is no feelings other than sexual to be exchanged

It was simple and since you’d opened the door for these things, you guys had shared one person, it wasn’t that Jabari and you didn’t fulfill each other, far from it this was just fun for you both and if anyone wanted to close the relationship and stop then you would.

You and Jabari had started this after having an amazing night with a girl after getting lit at a club both agreeing to take her home. Afterward you’d both talked about doing it again leading to your agreement.

Standing in your section, front row of the stage the club was dark and lit up with the stage lights and the leds around the stage as beautiful women, strutted done-up and and pretty and did their best tricks on the stage. The floor littered with money the bouncers on the floor bagging everything and you plopping your juicy ass on Ony lap facing him looking him deep into his red and low eyes as he did the same.

Placing his hands on your ass, his fingers playing with the black thong you had on peaking at your waist from your brown shirt mini skirt that matched the cropped top and jacket, with some long black boot, leaning in pecking your lips three times pulling part feeling your lips buzz from both the henny and the kisses. Wrapping your hands around his neck leaning closer to his ear so he could hear you in the loud club.

“You enjoying your birthday papa.” You said in your sultry voice low, playful way that made his dick jump, he loved many things about you but your voice was number one. Nodding his head he gave a “yea baby you look so good tonight I can’t wait until we get home.” He said making you squirm in your seat (which was his lap).

Looking around as the music on the main stage got louder you saw a beautiful women slowly taking the stage her full body hugged by her gold outfit that criss crossed over her breasts and belly and wrapping around her plump thighs her belly piercing gleaming under the orangey bright lights that made it look like a sunset.

Her silky black hair with little pieces of glittering tinsel flowing around the pole getting to the very top before she spun around to the floor eyes singed with mine on her hands and knees she katwalked on her hands and knees to the very end of the stage biting her plump lips at you both. She was so close you could smell the Chanel on her amazing body. Damn looking over to Ony as if to say “I want her can we have her” he wasn’t to far behind already looking at you with the same eyes. Reaching over and placing a stack hundreds into the bands of her pretty outfit.

The dance had you both in a trance her eyes going between the both of you. Tension thick the way you were looking at her made her pussy wet the jewels in your mouth glistened along with your glossy lips that were smiling gently at her shifting back over to ony she left her heart beat faster at how he was looking at her having to remind herself she was at work she had to get herself together and finished out her dance before seductively walking off feeling eyes on her until she appeared into the dressing room.

“Girl what was that?” Cherry, Gina’s closets work friend asked her as soon as she stepped off stage and made it to the back.

“Girl they fine as shit and they both was looking at me.” She said giddy thinking about what just happened standing up and grabbing the money from out of her outfit.

“Girl that say 10 racks!” Cherry said looking at the two stacks in her friend’s hands. Smacking her teeth “damn girl I should’ve popped out tonight.” She said.

“Girl you would’ve popped your damn stitches.” Gina said locking her money in the portable safe said had it her locked locker. Cherry had gotten into a fight a few days ago with another stripper, strawberry over some money and long story short cherry ended up stepping on a broken bottle and splitting her foot open (true story).

“Journey you got a private group dance in the pink room.” Claudine the house mom said.

“After this can I be cut I gotta get home.” Gina said (Journey is her stage name).

“Yea you can go make sure you pay your stuff before you go.” She said walking off making Gina jump for joy. She had been at the club since seven pm and it was now going on three in the morning. Let’s get this over with her thought taking a quick shot at the bar.

Standing up and swishing her mouth with some mouth wash she had on hand she spritzed some more perfume and went to the pink rooms.

Walking in the room she saw the usual pink velvet couch and the white carpet floors with a pink glowing pole about a foot off the ground it sat on a heart shaped platform that was bolted to the floor.

She saw the couple from earlier and instantly felt bubble in her stomach, body buzzing at the sight of him how good the guy looked and how the girl already had her pussy wet.

“H-hey yall I’m Journey” it was cute to them show shy she was being after putting on such a show a few minutes ago.

“You ain’t got to be nervous Journey” the guy said Gina could tell that he was tall and had tattoos, looking at him in closer lighting her had plump lips, dimples and he was handsome.

“Yeah we just wanted another show just for us. I’m Junie and this is Ony but I call him papa.” She introduced looking me deep in my eyes I wished I didn’t take that shot of henny before coming back here.

Shaking off the nerves she fell into the music, her body just doing its on thing she felt good tonight she’d reached all her goals. She was really that girl swaying her body with Beyoncé.

“Wanna show you how much you got your girl feeling good”

Sliding up the long pole as she opened her long legs open like a split and slid am the way down slowly landing in the front of the couple legs still waiting for the best best before she popped her ass as she stood up.

“Wanna put my body in yo body

Promise not to tell no body.”

She was on one tonight sitting on Junie placing the girls manicured hands on her butt and grinding slowly and against her thighs it just felt so good she couldn’t stop. Locked into Junies eyes as they felt going as the song played out.

“Wanna make that body rock

Sit back and watch

Oh yes”

She needed to get out of here

#ony x black reader #aot onyankopon #onyankopon x black reader smut #onyankopon x black reader

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patrickispinky · 7 months ago

Text

Sex, Drugs, Etc.

pt.2

Warnings: Talk of drugs/Drug use. Possible smut in the future. SH. A lot of plot. EXTREME Canon divergence. Before Maddies time. Set in 2022. Almost panic attack. This is NOT meant to romanticize addiction or mental illness.

2.4k words

Enjoy :)

Pt.1

It was like any other Friday night. A crowded living room filled with loud teenagers, music so loud your brain went numb, the strong scent of booze and grass filling the air, kids pissing on the carpet and throwing up in the backyard, the perfect party… well almost perfect. There was something missing, something no amount of alcohol or smelly plants could fill.

Your head was spinning, not from the shots of vodka some girl you just met brought you, but from the people. Parties were supposed to be fun, a chance to drink and dance but the overwhelming crowd left you short of breath. No one forced you to show up, hell you weren't even invited, but you’d take any chance to get out of the house.

“Hey I’ll be right back” You say to the random blond girl, not giving her enough time to respond before you walk away. Weaving through the drunk teens to get to the back door, you frantically fiddle with the handle, air becoming something almost non-existent. Swinging the door open you step outside, taking deep breaths of air. To anyone walking by it just looked like you were calming yourself down from a bad trip.

“Hey you alright?” The sound of a familiar voice fills your ears. “You look like you've seen a ghost” (I'm so funny) It was Josh, you’d buy weed from him sometimes, though you haven't really talked outside of small talk to make your interactions feel less illegal.

“Um yeah. I'm great.” Your breath was still ragged, words coming out rushed despite how hard you tried to make them sound casual.

“Come on, sit down” He grabs you by the shoulder gently, leading you to a coach that had been pulled out into the backyard. A chick with black hair sitting on the far end of it and a dude passed out on the ground in front of it. You sit down awkwardly, Josh comes over and sits between you and the girl, holding two beers and hands you one.

"Thanks" You take the beer, your original plan of getting some air and going home ruined.

"You're a little young to be here, aren't you?" This is the first time anyone has questioned you on your age. Normally they'd give you a weird look but leave you alone.

"I'm old enough for you to sell me bud." He let out a little laugh, 14 was probably too young to be drinking and partying but who's gonna stop you?

"Got me there" He takes a sip out of the glass bottle. "You don't look like you're having fun."

“Not really” The only fun thing about parties was getting too drunk to even remember where you are, something you didn’t get the chance to do.

“You know I'm in a good mood, I got something for you.” He reaches into his pocket, holding out his hand waiting. You look at him confused and after a few seconds he rolls his eyes, but his smile grows. “Go on, take it.” You reluctantly put up your hand for him to drop whatever he has into it. When he does you realize what it is, a little pill.

“What is this?” The confusion is clear on your face, never having shown any interest in taking pills before.

“Its percocet, 10 milligrams.” You recognize the name, your grandma used to take them. What you didn't understand was why he was handing you a pain pill.

“Oh um, I don't have any money.” Which wasn’t a lie, but also a good excuse to get out of this awkward situation. He laughs again, clearly high out of his mind and way too friendly.

“Don’t worry about it, it's on the house.” Now that was what really concerned you, taking a free pill from someone who you barely knew sounded like a death sentence. “You look like you need it.”

The girl sitting next to him scoffed. “Since when are you interested in giving out free shit?” She clearly wasn't in as good of a mood as he was.

“Come on Gina, the poor girl looked like she was gonna pass out earlier.” That doesn't help with the bitter look that grows on her face.

“Oh so your girlfriend has to pay but you'll give it out to this random kid?” The tone of her voice clearly pissed off, to be fair it was kinda fucked up.

“Gina-” She doesn't give him a chance to speak before getting up and walking away, mumbling to herself. You sit there awkwardly, pill still in your hand.

“Should you like, go after her?” Wanting to get up and walk away too, not knowing what to do after accidentally being involved in a potential break up.

“Nah, she’ll be fine.” He seemed calm, not worried at all at the fact that his girlfriend just stormed out on him. Maybe this was a normal occurrence, either way you decided it's none of your business and opted not to ask any more questions.

“So what do I do with this?” You gesture to the hand with the pill in it. This was probably in the top 10 most confused you’ve ever been in your life. No one has ever handed you a random pill before.

“Take it?” He looked at you like you were dumb, like this was the most normal thing in existence.

“I don’t- I don’t think that's the best idea.” It wasn't the idea of taking a perc that scared you, it was the fact that he could have easily been lying. You’d seen enough true crime to know that this is how you end up on the news. “Here” You hold up the pill, trying to hand it back to him. “It's late, I should head home.”

“Keep it, I got plenty.” You give him a small nod, sliding the pill into your pocket as you stand up, looking down at the guy passed out on the ground.

“Uh-” You were gonna ask if he was okay but decided not to, looking back at Josh. “Have a good night.” He ghost (hehe) cheers his beer at you as you walk away, going home confused.

(“1 fish, 2 fish, this flashbacks been too long bitch” - My Brother, 2024)

The sound of the final bell rings as you head to the gym where Mr.Martin was planning for tomorrow's movie night. You open the door and see him writing in a notebook as he sits on the edge of the stage. He looks up noticing you as he slides down onto his feet. “Hey, is that your obituary?” He points down to the folder in your hand, a sickeningly sweet smile on his face that feels somewhat intimidating.

“Yeah, Wally helped me write it.” You hand him it, watching him open it, eyes gazing over the pages. A smile still on his face as he closes it.

“I figured he would, he's such a little helper.” He puts the folder on the stage beside him. “I will sit down and read that later, but for now how are you feeling?” Like shit, but you couldn’t tell him that.

“Great actually, I think this helped.” If anything it made the hunger worse, apparently even death couldn't silence the craving. You made the fake smile on your face look as convincing as possible.

“Any plans for today?” Another attempt at getting you to talk to the others. He's already suggested several ‘bonding activities’ in the two days you’ve been here.

“Yeah actually.” The way his face lit up like a christmas tree was almost comical. “Wallys gonna teach me how to swim later.”

“Oh well, isn't that lovely?” Something about the old fashioned way he talked reminded you of your grandpa. The familiarity brings an odd sense of comfort.

“I should probably um-” You gesture to the door on the other side of the gym, hands in the pocket of your hoodie, a habit you picked up to keep you from picking at the delicate skin that covers them.

“Yeah, go on. Have fun.” He waves you off, smile turning more cheesy like a supportive father watching his daughter leave for her first date.

“Okay, great” You turn awkwardly, making your way out.

“I expect to see you tomorrow.” He yells as you're halfway across the gym.

“Of course.” You yell back without turning around. Reaching the door you step out, entering the now empty halls. You weren't supposed to meet up with Wally until later but needing some alone time you opted for the library where you spent most of your day already. A quiet place where you can escape your own thoughts with a simple little book.

Going the same route you did earlier, except you were alone this time. Something about the quiet school halls felt almost uncanny, somewhat unnatural. You attempt to brush off the uneasy feeling as you reach the library. It was one of your favorite places in the school during your life other than the old locker rooms, but that wasn't really an option anymore.

The cool air hits your face as you open the door, the sweet librarian Gilinda always kept the ac on specifically for you. Kinda funny to think about the fact that she doesn't even know you're gone, nobody does, how the hell has nobody noticed? I mean isnt it fucking obvious? Do they even care? The silent tear dripping down your cheek snaps you out of thought, rubbing it away with your sleeve quickly. Emotions were always so weird, feelings were something you always tried to hide away into the farthest parts of your mind, leaving you completely and utterly numb. It was the safest option.

You made your way into the fantasy section, easy and simple. You look around for a little bit before one catches your eye ‘Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children’ A token you had read years ago. The graphic story probably wasn’t appropriate for your 12 year old self but something about it sparked something within you. (Ooooh so edgy) There was this little corner you always sat in, it was quiet and not a lot of people came near it, not that it really mattered considering the library was empty but it was your little spot.

It had been a while since you got to sit down and read a book, your brain being either too wired or too relaxed to concentrate so this was a good feeling. A simple little book, in a simple little corner, in a simple little weird ass situation. What a fucking life… well death.

The spine was worn down from years of being passed around by different messy highschoolers, pages somewhat torn, leaving the sweet smell of old paper. You read through the first chapter, then the second, then the third, until you forgot about the world around you. Completely immersed in the weird fucked up tale. It was like time didn't exist, nothing did except the little images you created in your mind. It was the only way of escaping, forgetting about life, about death, about cravings, descending into a different world like nothing else matters. It wasn't until you reached the last page that you realized how late it was, though you didn't feel tired. It was like the times you did adderall, nothing could put you to bed.

“Oh shit” You whispered quietly to yourself when you realized you were only supposed to be there for an hour, your plans with Wally had been completely forgotten about. You stand up, rushing out the library, not bothering putting the book back where it belongs. The halls were dark, no light from the windows filling them, you didn’t know what time it was, just that it was late and way past when you were supposed to meet up. What a great first impression.

You made your way to the pool room only to find it empty. Of course it was, no one in their right mind would wait hours for someone they didn't even really know. Well this was shitty, he probably thinks you're a total asshole. Who could blame him? He spent his entire afternoon helping you write your obituary and you accidentally blew him off. Asshole behavior.

It's not like you could find him and apologize, he was probably asleep right now. Something Mr.Martin had advised you to do when you first got here. It was probably a good idea. You couldn’t remember the last time you had a good sleep, normally getting woken up by nightmares or stomach pain. A side effect of pills that they fail to mention.

You doubted that there were any empty couches, but Mr.Figueroa always kept blankets in his classroom in case someone got cold. His classroom was just down the hall, one of your favorite places to be during c block. He always let you hang out in there even if you were supposed to be in class. The door was locked, but if there was one thing you learned at this school it was that all you had to do was slide your id through the crack and it would pop right open, an important life skill. Charley was sleeping peacefully on the little couch in the corner of the room. You were careful not to wake him as you snuck over to the closet. It was filled with board games and little props he’d use to teach, at the bottom was a pile of folded up blankets. A fuzzy gray one at the top that you always used, it even smelled like you.

As you made your way out the classroom, blanket in hand, you tried to figure out where you were going. That's when you saw her, a red haired girl sleeping on top of the lockers. You’d seen her before but never introduced yourself since she wasn't in group. It wasn’t a bad idea, seemed peaceful. You walked down into a different hall, not knowing if there was sleeping territory. It was probably the safest option to go where your locker was.

It wasn't too high up, a little hard to climb but you managed. The medal was a little cold and you didn’t have a place to rest your head so you took your hoodie off, scrunching it up so you could use it as a makeshift pillow. It wasn't the most comfortable option but it would have to do for now, at least until you fingered out the rules of the afterlife.

(Had to conjure up my inner edgy teenage self for this one, and yes the flash back did in fact happen to me. It was really awkward)

Pt.3

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icyg4l · 1 year ago

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PAC: Uncovering the Lies

Which area of your life have you been lying to yourself about? In this pick-a-pile, truths that you have been scared to face will be revealed to you. If you’ve been having any doubts about a situation, have been in denial about something or do not know about deceit, then it will all be confirmed/shown here. Without further ado, pick your pile.

Left-to-Right (1-4):

Pile One: If you chose the photo of the word ‘she’, then you’ve been lying to yourself about that situationship, or should i say ‘shituationship.’ You have the tendency to put a lot of energy into relationships in comparison to the other person. You hope for that person to come around and they simply don’t show up for you the way you want to. It’s time to stop trying with this person. This could honestly go for other relationships too like with a friend or a distant family member. You’re looking for some stability, Pile One. You’re not looking for a fair weather friend or a part-time lover. You’re looking for the full package & it’s time to stop denying yourself of that love you are seeking. You’re pure-hearted but need to start acting accordingly. Get a little more strict so that you can attract the relationship(s) that you are looking for. You deserve better. And I’m not going to lie, Pile One, people are saying that you deserve better behind your back. So, put yourself in a better position, love. I pulled some oracle cards for you for some advice that you can follow and here is what was said:

“A new romantic cycle begins”

“Communication is key”

“Nothing is yet set in stone”

Cards Used: 7 of Swords, Ace of Cups, Queen of Swords, 8 of Wands, Ace of Discs, The Chariot, Knight of Discs.

Signs: PISCES, Sag, Libra, Leo.

extras: let it go by elsa. flowers by iyla. red hair. glowing skin. honey. abandonment issues. gapped teeth. upbeat song listener. open heart chakra. peace sign. bridgit mendler. ivy league. political internship. yoga.

Pile Two: If you chose the pile of the headless woman, I would say that you definitely need a break, Pile Two. You deserve to come out and play with everyone else. When was the last time you went out for a drink with some friends, huh? You’re all work and no play. You’ve been saying that you’re fine when you’re not. I sense that you’ve been a little hotheaded lately because you have no outlet for your frustrations. Please, let loose. I’m channeling the movie Daddy’s Little Girls, specifically the scene where Monty and Julia go to the local bar after she has a long day at work and they end up bonding with one another over drinks. I think that’s what you need, babe. You’re such a hard worker but you’re also an overachiever. Those go hand-in-hand just like work and play. I feel like this pile is just so serious like your tolerance for things that you once could handle has probably decreased, so you’re more irritable nowadays. With that being said, you should probably book that flight or call up that friend. You need to just wind down. I pulled some oracle cards for you and here is what was said:

“Be bold and make the first move”

“What do you need to release?”

“Hold your vision”

Cards Used: Temperance, King of Discs, King of Swords, Death, King of Wands, Page of Wands.

Signs: Virgo, Capricorn, Scorpio, Aquarius.

extras: refill by elle varner. work hard, play hard by wiz khalifa. smoke break. 22. paying close attention to the news. puffy eyes. headaches. going to bed early. miami for spring break. mean girls. stress eating. fight night.

Pile Three: If you chose the closeup of Megan Thee Stallion, then you’ve definitely gotten yourself into a sticky situation. There is some sort of pattern that you have not recognized yet and you’re wondering why this thing keeps happening to you. You feel like you cannot escape this toxic situation. One minute things are fine, the next minute, you feel like nothing can go right. Pile Three, you’ve grown accustomed to toxicity. It was taught to you as you grew up and you never really unlearned it. But I’m here to tell you that the relationship you’ve got yourself in is acting as a mirror for you to do better. Some call it a karmic relationship or a twin flame relationship. But either way, this is not meant to last for a long time. Everything will be okay as long as you choose to see things for what they are. This means attending therapy, doing the shadow work, crying, transmuting the pain into something beautiful and purging. Your situation is dysfunctional, Pile Three. But only you can get yourself out of it. I pulled some oracle cards for you and here is what was said:

“A fiery climax approaches”

“A personal issue reaches resolution”

“A time to give rather than take”

Cards Used: Page of Wands, Ace of Cups, The Tower (RX), Queen of Cups, Three of Swords, 5 of Wands, 7 of Cups, 4 of Wands (RX).

Signs: Taurus, Leo, Virgo, Aries, Cancer.

extras: chipped tooth. salt and vinegar chips. chocolate. breath of fresh air. greedy by ariana grande. twins. we belong together by mariah carey. fish and chips. wakanda forever. peppa pig. y8 games. tilapia.

Pile Four: If you chose the leopard’s paws/lady’s hands photo, then you need to stick to your word! You’ve been playing games. I feel like this pile doesn’t really believe in themselves. You’re your own biggest critic. You can be very nitpicky and judgmental or fall victim to the words of others and end up sulking because of it. You haven’t been putting in as much work to accomplish your dreams. The intuitive feeling that you get when you think of that idea — use this energy to create! Maybe you don’t have a lot of supporters around you and this is what’s preventing you from going hard. But that’s the thing, you can use the haters as your motivators. Very cliche what I just said, but it’s true. I feel that you think too much about what could be done instead of actually doing it. Don’t just talk about what you’re going to do. Be about it! You don’t even have to tell people what you plan to do. You can always keep it to yourself. That’s the best option for you anyway. Worry about the results later. You can do it, Pile Three! You got this! I pulled some oracle cards for you and here is what was said:

“Believe in the impossible”

“Nothing is yet set in stone”

“Expect powerful change”

Cards Used: The High Priestess, Seven of Swords, Justice, Prince of Swords, Princess of Cups, Strength, The Sun, Judgment, 4 of Cups.

Signs: Taurus, Virgo, Gemini, Pisces.

extras: close friends. the challengers. lorde fan. skin-to-skin contact. silver rings. LA. dynasty. pick me. time tables. clock in. red lipstick. side bangs. the game (2006). twiggy eye makeup. how high (2001).

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herefortarlos · 6 months ago

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There are sadly only three episodes left of 9-1-1: Lone Star, which returns on Monday, January 20, 2025 (the finale is set for February 3).

And sure, there’s a massive emergency—an asteroid heading for Austin—but there’s also quite a bit left to wrap up about the characters as well. In addition to whether or not Owen (Rob Lowe) might take that job offer and what’s next for Judd (Jim Parrack) with his drinking, there’s the matter of T.K. (Ronen Rubinstein) and Carlos (Rafael Silva) adopting T.K.’s half-brother Jonah as well as what’s ahead for the rest of the first responders. TV Insider turned to co-showrunner Rashad Raisani for the scoop.

How much are we going to see T.K. and Carlos trying to balance being parents and balancing work? They have family, but at the same time, they are the primary caretakers now of this kid.

Rashad Raisani: You’re putting your finger right on the end of the series is all I’ll tell you about that. That becomes a major issue, let’s put it that way.

Do they have time for themselves as a couple?

They will, I’ll put it that way, but I won’t tell you how.

As much as I love seeing Nancy (Brianna Baker) as captain and she’s already doing great, will we see Tommy (Gina Torres) back at the 126 before the show ends?

I can’t answer that. It would be too big. I can’t answer it. Let’s just say Gina Torres is a Ferrari. You don’t leave a Ferrari in the garage forever.

But will we see her physically at the 126? She could just be visiting.

[Laughs] If I answered it. I would be spoiling so much.

What else can you tease about the final three episodes for the characters and their relationships?

The thing that I can say is that everyone in the last two episodes gets pushed to their extreme limit—and some past it, to be honest. We have some of our most insane apocalyptic emergencies in 11 and 12. It’s basically a combination of The Last of Us and Chernobyl. It mirrors where all of the characters are, and most of them are in an apocalyptic space for one reason or another.

Mateo [Julian Works] is going to have an existential crisis going back to his status as a DACA, as a dreamer. T.K. and Carlos, they are not done with—yeah, they want to adopt Jonah, but it’s not that easy, and there’s going to be a major fundamental hurdle for them that they’re going to have to make a significant life decision to decide how they want to deal with it. Tommy is at the end of her life. Owen will be at the end of his life. Judd will have a new future that I think will both be very shocking but also feel hopefully very appropriate that will change the game of where he goes. Marjan is going to have a massive episode in Episode 10, which I think people will get a lot of joy from—I know I did, and I think it’s her best episode of the series. I think everybody’s going to have some big game-changing moments in the final three episodes.

What about for Paul (Brian Michael Smith)?

There’s a great—I have to say Brian pitched me an idea. He said there was this moment in the pilot where Owen tells Paul basically, there’s somewhere out there in Austin as a kid like you that doesn’t think they belong. And I want you here for when we run across that kid, you know what I mean? Whether it be non-binary, trans, gay, whatever. And Brian said, we said that in the pilot, but wouldn’t it be great if we did a story that showed that? And I thought, well, that is a great idea. And so the last two episodes we’re going to do that and we’re going to introduce a new major character, I should say, who Paul will be their kind of role model.

Are there any significant steps for any of the relationships in these last episodes beyond the adoption for Tarlos?

There may be new babies. I won’t tell you who. There may be deaths. I won’t tell you who. So there will be, there sure will be.

9-1-1: Lone Star, Returns, Monday, January 20, 2025, 8/7c, Fox

#More Tarlos to come and more story lines for everyone!#We are not surviving these last 3 episodes 😭#So happy to have story lines we don't already know about!#911 lone star #911 lone star spoilers #tarlos

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skzswife · 4 months ago

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𝒲𝒽ℯ𝓇ℯ 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝒹ℴ𝓌𝓈 𝓁𝒾ℯ 𝒫𝓉 1

(Vampire!Jisung x Afab!Reader)

Warnings: Angst, Unwanted attention, Degrading language(Not fun kind), Daddy issues, Blame

This chapter is mostly angsty backstory stuff (Forgive me🙏🏻)

Your life had been bleak ever since his disappearance. You had met him in 1st grade when he moved to your school. You had been selected to show him around because you were top of your class and the only girl who wasn’t drooling over him at your young age.

You two had hit it off instantly, chatting about your favorite places to visit with your parents and your favorite shows or toys. Normal things for first graders to talk about. As the years went by you grew closer, by 4th grade you were inseparable and by 5th grade you would go everywhere together. By this point you had all but forced your parents to become friends. They hit it off well anyway, boasting about how proud they were of you both and how happy they were when you became friends as neither of you had any luck in that field before each other.

You had also grown close to his parents, thinking of them as a second pair to yours. Thats why it hurt so bad when his father blamed you. At 5th grade graduation, you and Han were standing together when the photographer the school booked approached you “a photo for the yearbook lovebirds?” she asked innocently “Oh me and her aren't a couple” Han had laughed in despite the blush spreading down his neck. “Oh I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to-” “It’s alright” you had gently cut her off before she skittered away embarrassed.

After that you started to see him in a different way. Especially watching him grow from a boy to man through middle school.

You watched as his jawline grew sharper, his eyes rounder, his body growing in height and build. He had started working out in 7th grade along with your mutual friends Chan, Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin.

You had developed this group near the end of 6th grade after you caught Felix crying in a corner about ice cream and tried to comfort him, for which Chan had thanked you profusely.

You don't know when you realized you loved him, truly loved him. Maybe during summer break before freshman year when you had all played spin the bottle. Of course your spin had to land on him, you’ll remember that kiss for the rest of your days.

You don't like to talk about freshman year, the memories to bittersweet. It’s the year he went missing. The last time you had seen the most important thing to you before he was ripped from your grasp with no chance for goodbyes. The party was fun at first, drinks, loud music, and your friends. At some point you were pulled from the dance floor by Hyunjin who said it was time to go. You were getting cold in your rather skimpy outfit your sister Gina convinced you to wear so you agreed.

You agreed to meet the boys outside after your favorite song ended and they agreed, saying they would be in the cars waiting. After dancing to your favorite song you began to leave stepping out into the chilly November air, when you noticed a group of boys from your grade staring. You walked past them before hearing one of them catcall you, it was the darker vibed one. He always dressed in black and wore hoods,he scared you honestly. You had gotten used to being catcalled at this point, the curves your mother gave you were a blessing and curse, you’d been played with and harassed but never physically. So when he grabbed you, a slap rang across the surrounding area. Before you knew what happened you had slapped him clean across the face. You just slapped Jayce.

Jayce, with a shocked expression on his face throws your wrist out of his hold before approaching you menacingly as you close your eyes tightly. “You dirty little slut.” as he raises his hand a loud thud sounds in your ear. You open your eyes and Jayce is laid on the ground, an enraged Jisung huffing beside you with bloody knuckles. “Han?” “Go to the car Y/N” Han growled “Han you’re coming with me. You have to” Jayce begins to get up clearly pissed off “No. Y/N go to the car. I’ll be fine i promise.Just go and I’ll take my car when I’m done” you nod and run to the car “Han said to go, he’ll take his car home.”

After you get home you get a text from Han

Han: I’m fine and I’m home princess

Y/N: Ok Han goodnight

Little did you know this would be the last text you’d receive from him

Han didn't show up to school the next day, you tried texting him but to no avail. Days turned to weeks which turned to months. Finally your mom allows you to go to his house now rid of the fear of Han being sick and you catching it. You run the 28 minutes to the Han residence before not so kindly pounding on the door. Hans' mother opens the door “Oh! y/n what brings you here?” you're still panting from running “Is Jisung here? He hadn't been at school and I'm very worried” you pant in between words. Han’s mothers face drops instantly

“Oh honey, your father didn’t tell you? Jisung has..been missing since that party..” she says while tearing up you shake your head “N-no he can’t be missing. He texted me. He said he was home!” “He did, but he went out again. He said he forgot something in his car and never came back” she pulls you close petting your hair and consoling you when a deep voice sounds behind you “How did you not know? It’s your fault my son is gone, you left him.” his father says coldly

Mrs. Han smacks him “Now stop that! It isn't true!”

After she drove you home you got into a heated fight with your father. He knew. This whole time he knew and he said nothing. He listened while you talked about how worried you were and did not say anything.

The boys reacted the same way you did, heartbroken sobs, anger, hatred. For the next 3 years you all worked with the police to look for him. Until one day the police chief calls, “Hey kid” he sighs “I know this means a lot to you but I'm sorry, the search is off. The kids' case is closed, we can't spend anymore time on this, we've done all we can.”

You argued with the chief but to bo avail. It was over. Han Jisung was gone.

Taglist (OPEN): @feybin @bubblelixie @stayatinyot8 @sanriwoozzz

#skz #stray kids imagine #stray kids fic #skz smut #stray kids x female reader #stray kids hard thoughts #han jisung x reader #han hard thoughts #skz han #han jisung #han smut

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littlejuicebox · 1 year ago

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Hello Gina! Been loving your stories a lot specially Astarion talks in his sleep and My Sun, My Moon 1&2! which is why I wanna try if you can do a one shot of their 1st anniversary of marriage! 🤭 just wondering how it was for them, usually they say the 1st year is the toughest one but i wanna see how you see it 🤭 Many thanks!! i look forward to more stories!

Hello, my friend! <3

I really love this prompt! Marriage is hard and Astarion has his quirks that would def make him frustrating to Tav! Love isn't always sunshine and rainbows.

I took this in a slightly different direction, it's a reflection on their first major argument! Hope you like it. <3

Warnings/Tags: not edited or beta read / In-game spoilers, fluff/angst w comfort / married people having an argument / this follows my HC fics for redemption Astarion x Tav but I'm pretty sure it can be read as a OneShot

Word Count: 1.7K

-----

Astarion cannot concentrate on the blasted contract in front of him any longer. The delivery should have been here by now.

He only had a few hours before you returned from the Upper City and his entire plan for your first anniversary would be shot if the florists didn’t hurry the hells up.

“You said they would arrive by midday and now it’s nearly teatime, Pascal!” Astarion snaps at his steward, a middle-aged human with wide set eyes and a scar running horizontally along his nose bridge.

Pascal sits on the far end of Astarion’s office, reviewing a ledger. He slowly raises his eyes from the document to meet the petulant visage of his employer.

“That is what the florist told me, my Lord. But it is quite a large order. Fifty night-blooming plants and shrubs would likely take several carts, sir. It’s certainly possible they’ve run into delays along the way.” Pascal responds, his voice gentle but unbothered, as if he’s grown used to placating the moods of the vampire over the past year.

Astarion simply huffs in response, “We did not pay a premium for those ingrates to simply—“

He stops as his highly acute hearing catches the sound of wheels turning along the manor’s pebbled drive. By the raucous sound of it, there are several wagons making their way towards the home's entrance.

“Pascal, they're here. I will go greet them; round up the other servants and have them stop what they’re doing immediately. We will need all hands to make up for lost time.” Astarion says as he tosses the contract he’d been reviewing, leaving it with a large stack of papers scattered across his desk.

Several of those papers had the remnants of ink splotches and blood splatters from an hours-long drafting session he’d done on a business proposal the day prior. The goblet he'd been drinking from yesterday, dirtied with now-dried blood, sits haphazardly in the corner of the desk.

Astarion struggled to contain his natural propensity toward sloppiness. His mind often worked far too quickly for him to slow down and pay attention to trivial things like bloodstains and spilled ink.

However, after multiple gentle chastisements and one angry explosion from you, he’d managed to curb his disorganization to his office, which you accepted. The argument you two had, prior to coming to this arrangement, had truly terrified him.

The pale elf makes sure to grab the goblet and place it out in the foyer for the maid to grab; she had never been allowed to enter the master bedchambers or his office, for privacy. You two were responsible for keeping those areas tidy. Astarion did... almost nothing to his office, while you kept everything pristine in the bedroom.

Except for that one time before the argument. His mind wanders as he exits the office, reflecting on the memory that keeps him cleaning up his goblets.

-----

He could tell by your voice alone that you were angry. Furious, in fact. The sound ripped him away from the contractor agreement he'd been reviewing.

“Astarion! How many times do I have to ask you to not leave cups of blood in the bedchambers!” Your voice came booming down the hallway before you burst into the office, causing the door to slam into the wall with a loud thud. His eyes caught sight of the angry red splotches on your face, and then trailed down to your wedding dress, clutched in your shaking hand.

There was a large, crimson bloodstain smattered along the train. He almost fainted at the sight.

So many hours of his own work. Drenched in blood.

“I’d laid this out for the servants to frame today, and Scratch ran into the bedroom and knocked the goblet of blood — that you left there, completely full, by the way — off your nightstand and onto the dress!” You were waving the grown vehemently as you spoke, voice cracking toward the end.

Oh, his little love was infuriated. His gut sank at the thought.

The anger in your voice sounded entirely foreign, it was rare for you to speak in such a manner to anyone. But towards him? Never. You always spoke to him in soft, adoring tones and little whispers. The only time you truly raised your voice had been in bed, and he rather liked it then.

But this? He did not like this one bit. It made his undead heart thrum with anxiety.

“My love, I—“ He begins, his voice honeyed and smooth in the usual tone he used to appease you, but you cut him off.

“I’m sick of your excuses and your words, Astarion! I’m sick of cleaning up after you! I have asked you more than once to not bring blood into the bedroom and you've deliberately ignored me. And the one time I don’t remove the damned goblet from the bedchamber look what happened! I can’t keep—“

You were crying by then. Large, angry tears rolling in streams down your face as you swiped angrily at your eyes. That dress, and the hours of work he'd put into it, had been a testimony of his love to you. His actions had made your heart soar; seeing the gown ruined caused your heart to break entirely.

And Astarion's heart almost broke at the sight of his little love so distraught, but he had no words nor actions to soothe you.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath; he watched as the patches of red faded from your cheeks. When you opened them, the sight scared him and when you spoke, he was terrified.

Your face was blank, unreadable. Your tone was resigned. In that moment, in the absence of any discernible emotion, he felt certain you were going to leave him.

Eight months into a marriage and he was already failing; he knew he hadn't been cut out for this.

“I am very patient with you, Astarion. We both knew this wouldn’t be easy… with well, everything. Your condition, navigating my newfound fame, easing back into normalcy when we both have our baggage... but I chose this. I chose you. I choose you every day. Over and over. A hundred times a day."

You paused, and your eyes flicked between his, searching for something.

“I just wish I felt like you were still choosing me, too.”

And then you were gone. You left the dress crumpled on the floor as you turned and walked away.

As he moved from his desk to pick the garment up from the ground, he heard you call for Scratch and exit the front door. The sun was out, he couldn't follow you. And even if he did, there would be nothing he could say to placate you. He needed to give you time and space and wait for you to come to him; it was something he’d learned over the past eight months. Although he hated it.

So, he stayed in his office, trying to work, and failing at that, too.

After a few more hours, it was time to head to bed. When he entered your shared bedroom, he realized the goblet you'd spoken about had splattered over the sheets and onto the carpet, as well. He removed the goblet from the bedroom and placed it in the foyer; and then he changed the sheets, which you usually did. He waited for you to come to bed, but you never showed. Hadn’t he given you enough time by now?

Eventually he traveled to the guest chambers, certain you must be there sulking, and when he attempted to enter the room, the door was locked. He knocked tentatively on the door.

"Tav, darling--"

"No. And don't you dare pick the lock, Astarion."

"Tav, my sweet, please--"

"Please, Astarion. Please just leave me alone."

He wanted to pick the lock. Wanted to break down the door. Wanted to hold you in his arms and whisper apologies in your ear until you forgave him. But you always told him that his actions spoke louder than his words; honeyed lamentations would not work on you. Another thing he’d learned this past eight months.

And then he thought of the dress, which he'd left draped across the sofa in his office.

While you slept, Astarion set to work. He could have outsourced the task, sure... but truthfully, he did not trust anyone else with the fine detailing work he had spent several hours doing with his own hands. He'd created the masterpiece himself, after all, so perhaps it was best he restores it himself.

He worked gently, and for several hours, scrubbing the blood out of the fine fabric. His time with Cazador had taught him many things, and unfortunately a skill he used more often than he liked happened to be removing bloodstains from nearly any fabric.

By the time the gown was restored, his hands were raw from hours immersed in the harsh combination of soaps, chemicals, and water. It was past noon when he finished; you had certainly risen by now, but you hadn't come looking for him.

Astarion asked Pascal to place the gown in the sunroom to dry and then resigned himself to his office, back to reviewing contracts.

It was several hours later when you knocked on the office door, eyes downcast and face remorseful.

He didn't say anything, he just simply opened his arms and you crossed into the office before folding yourself in his lap. A few moments of quiet passed between you.

"I saw what you did to the dress. It must have taken hours... thank you." You finally whispered as your face nestled into the side of his neck. Your hot breath tickled, and he hummed in acknowledgement.

"It did, darling. And the skin on my hands certainly is not happy about it," He starts, and your hand comes to his as you bring it closer to your face, examining the uncharacteristically cracked knuckles and reddened flesh, "But you are worth the effort. And more. I'm sorry about the cups, my love.”

You placed a kiss on his chapped knuckle. An acceptance of the apology. And then you turned to face him and pressed a soft, tentative peck on his lips that made his entire body melt into you. Before long you two wound up on the floor of his office, and he made sure to use his actions to ensure you knew just how much he cared about you. How much he chose you.

And every day since then, he'd been certain to no longer bring goblets in the bedroom, and always leave them sitting in the foyer for the maid regardless of what room he was in. A tiny daily action signifying his love for you.

#astarion fanfic #astarion x tav #baulders gate astarion #baulders gate 3 #astarion fic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic idea #baulders gate tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x f!tav #astarion x f!reader #astarion x female reader #astarion reader insert #astarion x female tav

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ringmaster-pixie · 6 months ago

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pixie’s oc sheet! (Ooc post)

(Childhood pixie and normal pixie)

Ringmaster Pixie’s

Character bio

Name: Pixie [REDACTED]

Age: 13- but im mature!.. enough!!

Birthday: 1/24

Quote: “Im practically an adult. And I bet I make more money than you anyways so ZIP IT! Anyways time to go sing wicked! HUUAAHAAOAOA-🎶”

Job: PFC’s ringmaster, [REDACTED]

VC: Spinel (or me)

Theme Song: My ordinary life / Fine

Note: Her vision is… odd. (Ever played regretevator? The static mode on the spectator view is how she sees the world!)

Species: Human? Why is this even a question :p

Scent: popcorn and chocolate. Also somehow she smells like pure joy? Don’t question it.

Catchphrase: “Okily-Dokily!” or “HOWDY!”

Nicknames: Pix, pixie dustie, beaver, pixie dustie justin beaver, circus lady

Pinterest board: click me!! :3

[REDACTED]: Gina Dystru Morley (deceased)

Father: Archibald “Archie” Morley (deceased)

Little Brother: Joseph “Joey” Morley (deceased)

[RELATIONSHIP SECTION BEING REWORKED]

From a young age, pixie was always… different. She had a wild imagination, much like any other child, but to her, imagination was reality. She believed this made up world in her head was true, and that she was ▉t▉▉d.

Behavior like this OBVIOUSLY concerned her parents, so they hired a therapist. He prescribed an orange drink of medicine, which would get rid of her hallucinations and daydreams. But she wouldn’t let that happen.

While Pixie was dealing with being forced to take the medication, her mom was seeing the therapist too… but in a different way. She had already hated the both of them enough, but this had done it. She told her dad, who didn’t know how to react. But her mom knew how. She filed for divorce against him, and won custody over Pixie and her little brother. The one adult pixie trusted, gone.

Every day, despite the medicine, her visions and beliefs grew stronger. Her mother was enraged. She made sure Pixie would know what to truly believe in, one way or another. This wasn’t fair. She wouldn’t drink the medicine, she wouldn’t live without her dad, she wouldn’t believe what she was told, and she wouldn’t do this anymore. She couldn’t.

Something had changed within her. She felt different. Possessed by anger. Something was not the same. And it never would be again. (Please get the reference)

In a fit of rage, she ▉▉▉ the glass medicine jar on ▉▉▉▉s h▉d, knocking her unconscious. Then she m▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉e same way she did. Broken. But right as she was done, she was caught red-han▉▉▉▉▉▉▉oy in red. There cou▉▉▉▉▉▉nesses. Nor ▉▉▉ of her ▉▉. And no o▉▉▉▉▉d either bod▉ she made sure of it.

Her the▉▉▉ was next. She sho▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉hroat by th▉▉▉le, around 42. By the e▉▉▉▉o no one’s avail, he didn’t ma▉▉▉▉▉▉▉t he got for taking away her ▉.

▉▉▉▉▉. Why didn’t he ▉▉? Why di▉▉▉▉ry harder? Why w▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉ixie’s memory? And even if he’s done no▉▉▉▉▉▉e deserves to be put out ▉▉▉▉isery. Or so she th▉ght. But finally. It w▉▉▉▉▉stice.

As she wa▉p▉▉▉▉▉ody in a field behind her ▉▉▉, she jump▉▉▉▉▉▉nd of a ▉▉ barkin▉▉▉▉▉iliar voice telling▉▉▉er best friend.

She coul▉▉▉▉▉uldn’t! Sh▉ shouldn’t…

But she had to.

▉▉▉one. Her whole li▉▉▉▉▉der, and now miles away. After she took ca▉▉▉▉ so-called ”▉▉▉”, she ra▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉r and further an▉▉▉er into the woods. Setti▉▉▉▉▉▉blaze, with fire ma▉▉▉▉▉ure rage. They m▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉nothing, so sh▉▉de them becom▉▉▉▉. The smoke ▉▉▉▉▉▉▉p to her, but i▉▉sn’t long befor▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉p▉▉andoned c▉us.

A circus she’d claim as her own.

It was right out of her imagination. It was perfect. It’s almost like her dreams were coming true.

OOC: Thank you for reading! Her lore will be made into games soon once I get a computer!… and learn how to code. I already have the basic ideas down and I kinda know how to code so it won’t be THAT hard… right? Haha. Ha. Anyways I hope you enjoy!! If you have any questions feel free to ask me and let me know! My main blog is @p1x13p1x13p1x13

fun fact! Most things have double/deeper meanings ;]

also there’s a hidden message woah

updated 1/17/25

MORE CHARACTERS INFO:

NON-RELATED OCS/OTHER IMPORTANT STUFF:

#roblox myths #oc #oc rp #introduction #roblox oc #myth oc #anotherfunfactshelovestotravelthroughthemultiverse and oh my god I forgot I can use spaces in tags😭#Meow #pixie’s fantasmal circus #pixies fantasmal circus #ooc posting

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tollundwoman · 2 years ago

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I will fully cop to the fact that Undead Unluck is like basically a melting pot of shit that is quintessentially me-core, and that 100% colors my view of it. However, on the other hand, I don't care, this shit is still fucking complete fuego top to bottom.

Like, i get that the humor at the start is very unsavory and hard to swallow for some people, and I don't hold that against them. But the way it pays off on the initial rocky relationship between Andy and Fuuko is 10000000000000000000000000000% worth the price of admission.

And like, the character designs coupled with the art scratch a fucking primal itch in my brain. I could *look* at Undead Unluck forever. It's such a goddamn FUN style, and it's matched by a strong grasp on slick, readable page layouts. Not to mention the way the series is constantly moving its setting. In the first, like, thirty chapters alone, they go to Japan, Russia, The USA, Brazil, Australia, etc. I'm such a sucker for globe trotting.

The cast is very visually diverse. They all look cool, and so it's appealing to me on that level, but you can also just TELL that Tosuka adores his OCs. Like, fucking Void Volks, the basically nameless and faceless redshirt from volume 1? Yeah he's a core member of the cast now. Gina? The woman who died in volume 2 to advance Fuuko's plot? No she gets her happy ending actually and she gets to actually be friends with Fuuko. Like you want to talk about side cast utilization, this series should be setting a new fucking gold standard in WSJ as far as im concerned, One Piece notwithstanding.

And the worldbuilding. God, the worldbuilding. I'm a sucker for SCP/Magnus Archives-esque shit on a subatomic level and UDUL doesn't disappoint at all.

God, and how the powersystem is intrinsically tied to the worldbuilding on such a goddamn fundamental level, and how basically every superpower in the series has a purpose outside of combat, and just god shit fuck it's so fucking god damn good and I just wish I could like fucking bottle up the feelings that I feel about this series as an Imbibable Liquid and have you all drink it to actually understand how much I love this series because I genuinely feel that a) I will never be able to *fully* articulate why I love this series and b) I also totally understand why someone would think I'm a fuckin maniac for just how strong my feelings about it are. Like it's probably the epitome of like, "That Pretty Good thing that is just randomly a masterpiece to one specific person on the planet." But I happen to be that one specific person, and to me, Undead Unluck is That Pretty Good Thing.

#undead unluck #shonen jump #please read it

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gothicthundraog · 2 months ago

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RANDOM TALES OF DRAKGO

Chapter 1-5

Random Tales of Drakgo

Chapter 1 Before

Shego slammed her empty glass down in anger, flipping through her magazine again. There she was—a full article mind you—but still as vague as ever for Villains Weekly. She should be flattered but she was furious. They made her sound like she was a group versus a single person, so when she got any job offers and she arrived for the interview, they seemed shocked. She rolled her eyes and groaned. It was a male-dominated field she was in, so would it kill them to at least put words like, 'She' or 'Her' in the article? She supposed they were trying to not make it seem sexist, but it would help her out a lot more if the moment she showed up to meet with a new job, she could avoid all the inappropriate jokes and references.

"Another, Shego?" asked the female bartender at the Villain's Inn. Shego had become a regular, which wasn't Shego's goal.

"Yeah," said Shego with a sigh. "Did you see this crap?"

"Hey, don't complain, at least you're getting recognition. Most hench-women end up turning into 'villain hoppers' just to get a foot into decent villainy. Sure, there're a few villainesses who didn't have to. You're lucky, you are getting your name out there without having to crawl into bed with anyone," said the bartender…what was her name? Lisa…Deena…Mina.. Gina?

"True," said Shego with an eye-roll. "Not that most of the villains I've done a few jobs for haven't tried. The last one was the worst. He acted like it was in my job description. Uh, no, my contract was for one job. Steal some sort of graphite laser out from someone else. Done. End of the mission."

"How long did it take you?" asked the bartender—maybe it was Deena?

"Knowing Shego, an hour, tops," said the male bartender as he brought over clean glasses. Kyle... Conner... They really should wear name tags.

"Half," smirked Shego, then groaned. "You know, you can be a villain without being a creep."

"Someone send them a memo," said…Casey? "So any new contracts?"

"I haven't decided. I was going to look through the want ads and see who tickles my fancy this time," said Shego as she held up the magazine. "I removed my contacts from here. The magazine did do one thing—it got my name buzzing, so now I have choices. Though I am hoping to find one that pays for a room this time. No offense, but this place is an overpriced dump."

"We know," said the two casually, before they attended the other bar patrons as the regulars arrived.

Shego sighed and flipped through the articles, smirking as she saw Dementor's face on the 'Busted' list. Whoever this Kim Possible was, she was taking out villains left and right.

Good for her.

Shego smirked, glad for once it wasn't some Global Justice punk who was poorly trained or Team Impossible—a bunch of showboating guys trying to act like a GI Joe. She looked at the hiring ads.

Housekeeper. Nope. Side-Kick. Nope. Too long term.

Accountant. Yeah, no.

Henchman. Could be something quick.

Jewel Heist. Easy money.

Assistant. No, that means long…wait.

Shego looked at it again. It had short-term and long-term listed. Benefits. Room. Vacation. That implied more than a month, but it said negotiable. She read the short article and shrugged. There was an asterisk by the article, she flipped back through and found herself reading Dementor's article.

"Dr. Drakken?" asked Shego, so that's who she'd had to out-steal under for Dementor. The name sounded familiar; a past article she was sure.

"Did you say Dr. Drakken?" asked…maybe it was Gina. "I hear he's a bit of a contract nut, really over-complicated at times. Conner, didn't Paulson and Wayne work for him?"

"Uh, yeah. I guess he's the mad scientist type, you know. Keeps to himself, kind of a loner, crazy schemes, odd inventions. Though I guess he's got really good healthcare, he's super picky," said Conner as he filled someone's drink. Shego looked at the clock.

"Hmm," she looked at the article again. "Resume?"

"Yeah, he's old school," said Conner, and Shego tapped her nails against the bar in contemplation.

Negotiable?

Chapter 2 Beginnings

Drakken spun his triangle ruler on his workspace for what had felt like hours. He was looking at his new plan to take over the world. Or rather, his revised 22nd plan, but who was counting?

…His last assistant, that's who. He rolled his eyes. Peters, Pauls, whoever… He forgot their name now. Assistant number four was a total bust, and making a robot to do his work hadn't gone over well. He rubbed the scar on his eye—no not well at all. He'd put an ad in Villains Weekly, but the reality was, good help was hard to find. He'd given thought to just hiring a mercenary, but he didn't like the idea of competing with other villains and most mercenaries weren't exactly secret keepers, contract or not. Besides, all the good ones were always booked.

He spun around in his chair. He supposed attempting to get the things he needed on his own wouldn't be the worst thing. In his beginning of villainy, he'd been able to scrape by.

"Yeah, no," he grumbled to himself and grabbed Villains Weekly's new issue and flipped through it. It had all the latest successful schemes and failures. He'd managed to get in the magazine once or twice, mostly just mentions and shade thrown by Dr. Dementor.

Drakken glared at a picture of said villain and grinned. He'd been defeated by some teenager. The humiliation brought a little joy to Drakken.

He flipped to the ads again and stopped as he glanced past the 'Featured Hench' section—yet another mention of the up-and-coming Shego, who got a whole page this time. Drakken glanced over it. This person had more mentions in the magazine than any other mercenary, hired hand, or henchman than most had had in the last year or so. Whoever they were, they were no longer listed in the 'Hiring' group—probably booked for the next few years. He found his own article and re-read it.

Assistant Needed

Looking for a Full-Time Assistant.

Competitive Pay and Benefits.

Looking for general villain assistance; combat, stealth, theft, and general villainy.

Short-term or long-term acceptable; one-year contract required.

Vacation Pay for longer terms.

Negotiable.

Drakken kept reading. Perhaps he should have spent the extra and just made it more detailed. He only had a few more sentences, mostly talking about himself in a briefing and then his contact information to send the resume.

He noticed an asterisk near his name and frowned as he flipped back through the magazine. He growled and closed it. Of course, Dementor had to throw shade at out-swindling him in getting the graphite laser he needed for his latest magnetization plan.

He grumbled. He needed to figure out something else for his hovercraft in the works. He tossed the magazine and looked around his lab. Several unfinished projects lay around, and he'd started looking more and more at Henchco products—speaking of which, he should go get the mail for his latest recipes.

"Something to look forward to, at least. I hope it's banana nut muffins this week. I need a better recipe," said Drakken. He was used to talking to himself or to his tools. Perhaps he should make something that could respond.

As Drakken mused he was even more excited to see he had been sent resumes for two new applicants in the mail. His excitement turned to bitterness rather quickly. Just two henchmen trying to find work, one a former agent of Dementor's. Drakken tossed it in the trash. Dementor would find a way out of lockup and that henchman would most likely run back squawking all the details about Drakken's devices.

He stopped as he came across a package with a signature request. He hadn't ordered anything, and he had a P.O. Box for anything from his mother. And he was not dealing with her with the mood he was in—it was bad enough he spent his Sundays mocking-up fake clients and radio static. He then remembered this week was a theme week for that. He groaned; why had he done this to himself? He could have simply told his mother he was working with orphans or something in a country far away. She wouldn't have known.

He picked up his phone and dialed the number for the package.

"Are you sure this is mine?" asked Drakken as the delivery person handed him a clipboard. A large box sat in his entryway now.

"You're Dr. Drakken? This is your address?" asked the delivery man. Drakken nodded. "Then, yes, it's yours."

"Thank you for your astute observations," glared Drakken as he shoved the clipboard at the man as he left. He turned and looked at the box. "What is it?"

Drakken shrugged and opened it. There was no return address on it, nor any note. He watched as the cardboard fell away and just stared. He felt like this was some sort of joke, or... He was so confused. There stood the graphite laser that Dementor had taken out from under him.

Drakken was a mixture of excited and nervous. This seemed like some sort of trap. What if it was a trick from Dementor or another villain? He walked into his lab and froze at yet another surprise.

They're sitting at his lab table was a woman, her legs crossed and her face looking a mixture of bored and smug. Drakken had a series of questions filter through his head as he stood there. Where did that laser come from? Who's she? How had she gotten in? Is she green? What do I say? His mind ran a mile a minute, and he kept his face as neutral as he could.

"May I help you?" asked Drakken, keeping his distance as he walked around his lab.

"I believe you're looking for help?" asked the woman as she held up a torn-out page of Villains Weekly.

"I am," said Drakken, and he took a few steps closer. The woman was, in fact, a pale green. "Did you send in a resume? How did you get in here?"

"It's kind of my thing," shrugged the woman. She took a drink of his coffee. "Is this Colombian? I think a resume never does a person justice; actions speak louder than words. Did you get my package? First one's always free."

"You... You sent me the laser?" asked Drakken with a raised brow, and she shrugged. "Why?"

"Well I saw Dementor's little statement about it, and he's not using it. Honestly, it was like taking candy from a baby." She shrugged and stood. "That is the graphite laser you need for magnetization, correct?"

"Yes, it is," said Drakken. He wanted to thank her for it, but he was well aware he had to be skeptical of gifts in the villain world. "How much?"

"As I said, the first one's a freebie," said the woman. "After that, I'm rather fond of green."

"I see that," he smirked, as she indicated to herself. "I usually require a paper resume...but, terms?"

"I don't do long term, normally a standard one-month, one-job deal. But depending on the benefits I may be swayed," said the woman.

"Health. Vision. Three paid sick days. One week vacation, depending on term length," said Drakken. He moved around the desk and opened a drawer and pulled out a copy of his standard contract. "In case you care to read it over."

"Always," said the woman. Her eyes were fixed on him as she took it. Drakken noticed her gloves had claws on them.

"Titanium?" he asked, and she smirked. "Combat?"

"Fashion," she grinned in return. Drakken raised his brow, but by her expression, it was a joke.

"Experience?" asked Drakken, and she rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry, did you send a resume?"

"You expect me to steal a laser, ship it, break in here, and type up a resume in the five hours the magazine has been out?" asked the woman. Drakken opened his mouth to agree that was a bit much, but she spoke first: "Because I did."

"Really?" asked Drakken as the woman handed him a thin black folder.

"Hope a functional-grade resume is what you are looking for. I find my skills to be more of an attribute than who I may or may not have worked for," said the woman. "Just to make sure we're clear—I have worked for Dementor in the past. Unfortunately for him, he's a leech, and I don't work for pond scum."

"Hmm?" Drakken looked at the woman and then at her resume. He thought about the laser, and then his eyes fell to her name. "Shego? I'd assume someone of your caliber would be booked with mercenary work."

"I'm very picky," said Shego. "Meaning, I choose who I work for. No one calls me."

"How did I get so lucky?" asked Drakken. He was skeptical, but a part of him wanted to re-read that article in Villains Weekly again.

"I happened to be free, you made a post, I had access to a laser," said Shego. She raised a brow. "Also, I hear you're a stickler for contracts. Not many villains are."

"There are guidelines for a reason..." Drakken glared. He'd been getting crap for his contracts for years, but a written contract, unless amended... He shook his head. "Contracts are often ignored nowadays. We are villains, but we are not savages."

"Six months," said Shego after a minute. Drakken raised a brow. "I don't do a year contracts. In fact, it's normally a month. But I would be willing to do six months."

"I suppose I could work something out," said Drakken. He tapped his fingers on his desk where Shego still sat in his chair. "If I could get to my papers, Shego?"

Chapter 3 Awkward

Shego walked around the lair trying to familiarize herself with her new temporary place of employment. The island was isolated and it was a reality that besides the postal boat, she and Dr. Drakken would be the only ones on it for a majority of the time. The place was also massive, with a series of long halls with secret doors and chambers. Typical villain overcompensation; she added to her list for figuring out her new boss.

Shego found herself in the lab as she heard a noise that turned out to be the graphite laser. She watched as Drakken fiddled with it, muttering away to himself. Perhaps he'd forgotten he'd asked her to start today.

"Dr. Drakken?" asked Shego. Drakken dropped the tool he was working with and hit his head as he stood up. Shego covered her mouth to hide the grin.

"What?! Oh, Shego." He looked shocked to see her there, and his apparent anger faded as he rubbed his head. "When did you get in? I said 7 am, it's..."

"6:58," said Shego. She'd been there longer but why bother?

"Oh, so it is," said Drakken. Shego noticed he looked a little uneasy compared to the other day, but he seemed to shake it off. "Have you had a chance to look over the final contract then?"

"Yes, signed and dated," said Shego. She indicated to his desk where she'd dropped it. "For the next six months, I'm all yours."

"Ah, yes," said Drakken. Shego watched him closely. He hadn't made an inappropriate comment. Point to him. "Well we should get you settled then. It shouldn't take long to get the laser polarizing the metal for my hovercraft. I will need a few things yet, though."

"Am I following you?" asked Shego as Drakken drifted out of the lab. He was still muttering to himself. "Guess so."

Shego followed behind him as he seemed to be ticking things off verbally, things he would or wouldn't need she supposed. She wasn't sure this salary-based pay was going to be better or worse than a single job, as he seemed to be saying a long list of things. She walked casually behind him, waiting for him to say something specific to her. She rolled her eyes as he prattled, but said nothing.

"Right, so here you are," said Drakken as he indicated to a door. They had walked to the other side of the lair. "I had it cleaned, so all you have to do is fill it."

"What?" asked Shego, as Drakken messed with the door handle of the room.

"I will have the handle replaced, sorry," said Drakken as he tinkered with it. Shego gestured for him to move and he did so. "I can get—"

"I got it," said Shego and with a small plasma blast the door came loose. "It needs a new knob now."

"Did you...? Well that's rather...fascinating," said Drakken. Shego saw him look at her hand. "Is that natural or induced by a power source?"

"Natural," said Shego with a shrug. Well as natural as it could be. He didn't look terrified like most—something she would have to work on later.

"I'm sure that's very useful," stated Drakken. She noticed his grin, which he quickly shook off and looked in the room. "Well I'll get this changed tonight then, but here you are. Mi casa es tu casa."

"Mi casa su casa," corrected Shego. She smirked, he raised his brow as she looked in the room. "Is this an apartment? In the lair?"

"Yes, it makes commuting far easier and in case of emergency...I find it gives more privacy as well. There is your own entrance and exit too," said Drakken. Shego noticed him shift a little like he was trying to remain on topic or avoid saying something. She frowned. "Is… Is this okay?"

"Depends. Are you a creep?" asked Shego. She gauged his response: shock, confusion, and then an eye roll.

"No," he said firmly. She shrugged and walked inside her new apartment. "Have you run into many?"

"Unfortunately," said Shego as she looked around. The room held a dresser, single bed, television, and lamp; standard.

"I assure you, I have far too many things to do than harass my assistant," said Drakken. Shego smirked and nodded. "Once you get settled, I'll be in the lab."

Drakken made his way back to the lab and let out an audible breath as he relaxed. Or, tried to. Why was he so nervous around her? He hadn't been the other day.

He went back to his laser and rolled his eyes. He knew why. Having a bumbling assistant wandering around was one thing, but she was not an idiot. She was a sought-after mercenary and he'd managed to secure her for six months as his assistant. The last thing he wanted to do was have her think he was a creep and book it, and he wasn't one. Evil megalomaniac, twisted, conceited, and petty at times. He wasn't delusional about being those things, but a creep he was not. He also didn't need that gossip in the villain community. He smirked as his laser began to glow the proper color.

"Finally, took long enough," said Drakken as he twisted the laser spectrum and placed a test metal under it. "Won't be long now and the hover car will be running flawlessly. I do need a couple of parts, but first the metal. How much fuel do I have from the first test? Uhg! None? How, but when? That idiot Piers or Paul or…doesn't matter, he's gone."

"Do you talk to yourself a lot?" came Shego's voice. Drakken spun around. She sat in his chair watching him.

"I find myself to be great company," said Drakken with a shrug. He waited for her to say something, but she only sat back in the chair. "Unpacked already?"

"I travel light," said Shego. "Anything I can assist you with?"

"I'll have to move the hover car closer after I've stabilized the laser, so if you could get the pallet, that would start the process," said Drakken. He indicated to where the pallet sat. "Do you know how to use one?"

"Why wouldn't I?" asked Shego. Drakken saw her brows furrow.

"Well, I ask, because my former henchman and assistants did that," said Drakken, indicating to a large dent in the wall. He watched her un-stiffen. "It's automatic, but it has a kick to it."

"I can handle it," said Shego as she got up and walked over to the area he indicated.

"All right, so let's test this... Oh...okay, that's not good," said Drakken as the piece of metal seemed to vibrate. With a loud shuffling sound, the round test metal flew and connected with his belt. "Oh come on... Nope... Ow. Are you kidding me? This is not what it's supposed to do."

"Where do you... What's happening?" asked Shego as she halted with the hover car on its temporary lift.

"I seemed to have reversed the polarization on the laser," said Drakken. He attempted yet again to remove the large circular plate.

"Have you tried clipping your belt off?" asked Shego, tilting her head as she walked over to him.

"Can't reach it at this angle. Shego can you turn that laser head and switch the knob to yellow? I'll just have to neutralize it," said Drakken. He saw Shego's eyes go wide. "What?"

"You're going to have me fire a laser at your crotch? Is this some sort kink or something?" asked Shego. Drakken froze in horror. "I mean, it's not the first time I've come across it, but most slide this in at the end of my contract terms...except that one time."

"No, this is not—what?" asked Drakken. He had a serious concern about other members of the villain community at that moment. "I just want this thing off of me so I can finish working."

"Just checking. At least you don't have to go to the bathroom," said Shego as she fiddled with the laser.

"...Why?" asked Drakken. The mere mention of not having to go made him remember the four coffees he'd had that morning.

"Hmm, this isn't going to work," said Shego, flipping the switch up and down. "The toggle is broken."

"Oh, just great," scoffed Drakken. He went to kick a nearby stool but found his leg could only move so far with the plate.

"Calm down," said Shego. "I'll get your belt. You know I usually charge extra for this."

"Excuse me?" asked Drakken. He felt a wave of discomfort hit him.

"I'm kidding." He rolled his eyes as her hands reached around him from behind. "So does it latch or clip?"

"Both," said Drakken. He grabbed the plate. "If you can clip the top and bottom, I can pull this and it will let go."

"Uhm hmm," said Shego. She was attempting not to touch him, but if anyone walked in it would look like she was hugging him from behind. "Hey Dr. Drakken? Fact. I have gold in my claws."

"Why is that... Your claws are titanium with infused gold? So they're magnetic and you're stuck then," asked Drakken taking a deep breath. "May I ask why?"

"I liked the sheen and they were out of diamonds," said Shego with a sigh. "So, how fond of this belt are you?"

"Not too much, but I'd rather we'd fired the laser than you using your nifty powers near my lower half," said Drakken. He knew that was what she was going to do because her shoulders slumped. "Can your gloves come off?"

"Can you pull the release switch for them? It's under the flap of the sleeve," said Shego. Drakken looked down and began fiddling with her wrist armor. "Hey Dr. Drakken?"

"Yes?" asked Drakken, as he felt the clip on her wrist.

"This is awkward," said Shego.

"I agree," said Drakken. He felt shaking. "Shego? Are you...are you laughing?"

"No," but she was.

"I'm glad you find this funny," Drakken grumbled, but he smirked a little.

"Is this going to be a normal day around here?" asked Shego.

"I hope not."

Chapter 4

Observations

Shego walked through the large shared kitchen of the lair. It was late—really late. But tomorrow was Saturday.

Officially her second week with Dr. Drakken was over and she didn't have to work till Monday morning. Apparently, they would be initiating his new device or something. Something about a tick or whatnot. She rolled her eyes. She'd just stolen the plans, she didn't ask why or how it would take over the world. She was sure he'd shared it when he was ranting and muttering to himself.

She looked in the fridge. Not a single thing quick she could pilfer.

He hadn't said anything about food to her and she'd yet to have time to do shopping. That was a lie, she had loads of time. Most of her time was spent sitting around, and watching him work. A few errands here, steal a plan there, jack a circuit, and run to the hardware store for bolts. She shrugged. This assistant work was cake honestly, but a little lackluster.

She opened the freezer and smirked. Frozen yogurt galore. She yanked one out and grabbed a spoon, debating on heading back to her apartment before sitting at the small table instead. On her way there she hadn't seen Drakken in his lab working. So she expected he might be sleeping, for once.

"About time," she muttered to herself.

She honestly didn't know when he slept. When she left he was in the lab every night and when she got there in the morning he was already working on his projects. He was definitely unusual, even for a Mad Scientist or Evil Genius as he claimed. She'd only worked for two others who were labeled like that in the villain world, but they were both weird in their own ways: overly chatty, uncomfortable talking to her, no boundaries for personal space, and normally much...much older.

Drakken was chatty, but mostly to himself. On the off chance he remembered Shego was there, he'd get quiet and mostly mumble. He had no problem barking orders at her or giving her lists of things to do, and occasionally he tried to make a joke about something she had no idea about. He seemed pretty aware of boundaries. In fact if she got too close, he'd take a step or two back.

She realized he kept to himself more than seemed typical. Most villains at least went out and socialized—that's how she had met most of her early clients. Villain parties, clubs, lounges, social events... In two weeks, she'd yet to see him leave the lab let alone the lair. And she noticed that he tended to forget the days, like today. When she said she would see him Monday, he looked confused and then looked like he wanted to say something, but nodded and went back to the...nano-tick thing.

She rolled her eyes and ate her frozen yogurt. She heard the sound of a wave runner from outside.

"It's three in the morning," muttered Shego as she left the kitchen and went to the large balcony on the side of the lair.

In the moonlight she could in fact see the light of a wave runner headed towards the lair. Her brow rose and she put down her frozen yogurt. She was glad she opted to stay in her normal attire when walking around the lair outside her apartment; it felt too casual and uncomfortable otherwise. It was part of her job description to be a bodyguard when needed, so off for the weekend or not, if she wanted to get paid...she needed Dr. Drakken to be alive.

She wondered then...apart from Dementor, did Drakken have any other villain rivals? Most villains did, but only a handful were actually plotting each other's deaths—something she herself was not going to partake in. That's what henchmen were for.

She scaled the side of the cliff with ease, getting close to where the wave runner pulled into a tunnel to the inside of the lair. She didn't know there was an entrance there, and she followed.

She made it just for the door to close in front of her. Now she was a little annoyed that Drakken hadn't told her about this entrance; she'd had to take the stairs, and frankly, they were tedious.

It wasn't hard to figure out it was her boss on the wave runner, so she casually walked the rest of the way as she saw him getting off of it. He was muttering to himself as he did so, seemingly in a pleasant mood. She walked up behind him as he began taking bags off the watercraft, still humming away with delight.

"Do you like piña coladas?" asked Shego as she recognized the song. Drakken yelled and jumped, his apparent purchases flying out of his hands. Shego caught a few things before they fell.

"Shego! What...what are you doing up? Doing here? Why?" asked Drakken as he caught the rest of his almost-falling bags. "I mean, don't sneak up on me like that!"

"I didn't know there was a ground entrance," said Shego, deciding to ignore his anger as she gestured to the door.

"It's on the cameras," sighed Drakken. He took a deep breath and began walking up the stairs, then turned noticing Shego wasn't by him. "Are you coming?"

"There are cameras?" asked Shego, a little agitated and a little annoyed.

"...I forgot to show you that," said Drakken. He nodded. "Monday morning, first thing."

"You went grocery shopping in the middle of the night?" asked Shego, walking up the stairs behind him.

"No, I went shopping earlier. I went out in the middle of the night," said Drakken. He gave Shego a strange look. "You know I've yet to see you leave apart from missions. You should get out more."

Shego shook her head in shock as Drakken shrugged and walked up the stairs casually. I need to go out? Her last two weeks played back in her head. Had she pegged Drakken wrong? Did he have a social life? Was he playing her? Where had he gone? He didn't smell like alcohol, so clubbing hadn't happened. His clothes weren't a mess; a little wet from the wave runner, but that meant no casual evenings with someone. She was both intrigued and confused.

"I will figure you out," said Shego with a smirk, "Dr. Drakken."

Chapter 5

Music

Drakken drove the hover car in deep silence. This was not supposed to be how the day ended, and honestly, he felt like he had embarrassed himself in front of Shego. They'd only been working together for three weeks now, and their first big plan had been foiled by a teenage cheerleader and her bumbling sidekick, who apparently couldn't even remember the name 'Dr. Drakken.' He glared at that even harder. How hard was it to remember that? He knew their names: Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable. Well, two could play at the game, Stoppable...

His thoughts fell flat as Shego shifted awkwardly in the seat to his left. Maybe putting the steering column in the middle wasn't the best idea, but it was the only way they could keep the craft balanced.

"So, that didn't go as planned," said Drakken. Shego's eyes flared and she nodded as she looked over the edge. "How's your eye?"

"I'm fine," said Shego as her hand reached for her eye.

"You..." Drakken was cut off.

"You don't have to fill this awkward silence with chatter," said Shego. Drakken nodded.

He drove on. It was probably one of the most awkward drives of his life. He wanted to get to know her a bit better considering they resided in the same lair; her apartment was on the other end of the living quarters, but they would be working together for six months. Six awkward months. They were strangers, and she seemed hell-bent on keeping it that way. At least the distance between him and his past assistants had been from his end. More often than not, they shared far too much about their lives with him. So much so, he'd banned them from the lab. Something was unsettling about living with a stranger, working with a stranger... He was starting to see why she only did one-month contracts. She seemed to not like company at all.

"Mind if I turn on some music?" asked Drakken. He was being courteous. She shrugged.

"Knock yourself out," said Shego through a grumble.

"Thank you," he said and turned on the radio.

Shego idly watched the landscape as Drakken bumbled with the radio. What had she been thinking... A six-month contract? Really? Just because he didn't come off as a creep... She glanced at him and shrugged.

At least he wasn't a creep.

Too many villains had turned out to be just that: over-egotistical, dramatic, creeps. She could live with egos, with drama, with whiny demands, and with full-blown temper tantrums...but she couldn't deal with creeps. It was hard enough being in a male-dominated field. Your boss making sexual advances and suggestions was not something she could tolerate. She kept her distance for that reason. No ties, no connections. Job done. Gone. She heard music and sighed. At least the radio was working. She found her foot tapping to the beat; she knew this song. She was almost going to hum along, but instead, she heard the music go up a bit more, and then the person next to her began singing.

"It's my life. And it's now or never..." Drakken sang along as if he'd forgotten she was even there. Normal, really.

She looked at her blue boss next to her, singing without a care in the world to Bon Jovi. She was waiting for him to remember she was there, so she turned. He glanced at her in mid-verse. Her raised brow did nothing to discourage him. In fact, he shrugged and nodded to her still-moving foot, as if indicating that she should join in. Shego shook her head and looked back over the edge. He sang on, and she just stayed silent. The next song came and she thought he'd stop, but he sang on... Her brow shot up. Was he rapping? She spun in her seat and just stared at him.

"We ain't nothing but mammals, well some of us are cannibals…" he sang.

"Are you seriously singing Slim Shady?" asked Shego as Drakken continued the verse.

"It's not singing Shego, it's poetry to a beat and tempo," he said before continuing on. "Will Smith don't gotta cuss in his raps to sell records..."

"This is happening," said Shego. She heard herself snort, and didn't miss the smug grin on Drakken's face. The signal changed.

"Oh," said Drakken and he fiddled with the buttons. A different song started. "Well, this will work... "This is the story of a girl. Who cried a river and drowned the whole world…"

"You know, you're actually pretty good," said Shego. Drakken shrugged and kept singing. He nodded towards her tapping foot again.

"Your clothes never wear as well the next day. And your hair never falls in quite the same way…" he sang confidently. Shego listened a little bit more and found herself muttering.

"This is the story of a girl…" Shego sang quietly.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" asked Drakken. Shego glared at him but he sang louder.

"Who cried a river and drowned the whole world," said Shego loudly, "And while she looks so sad in photographs. I absolutely love her, where she smiles."

Twenty minutes later and Shego could barely keep it together as Drakken finished singing a Backstreet Boys song with as much dedication as a band member. She'd been on board for half the song, but her fighting laughter had gotten in the way of continuing to sing along with the radio. At one point two songs had blended and in a moment of weakness she sang the other song, and he matched tempo. She was actually a little let down as they pulled into the underground of the lair.

"You know Shego, you should consider going to a Friday night karaoke with me," said Drakken. "It's a blast, and there's always free appetizers."

"Karaoke," said Shego. She looked at the grinning man next to her and scoffed. "That's where you go? You go to karaoke."

"Ohm, when I get around to it," said Drakken. She saw his smile fade quickly and he frowned. "Not every Friday or something."

"I'm not the karaoke type," said Shego with a shrug.

"Nonsense, Shego. Everyone can karaoke. Some shouldn't...but they do. Karaoke on Friday is not a competition," said Drakken with a smirk. As the moment drew on, his grin broadened. "But I would win if it was."

"Someone's a little conceited," said Shego with a smirk. She shrugged. "Maybe."

"Free appetizer, entertainment, half-off drinks," said Drakken. She shrugged again. "You're a decent singer so..."

"Decent?" asked Shego with wide eyes. "I think I'm better than decent."

"I mean, you're better than most there," said Drakken. She saw him smirk as they headed inside. "But not me."

"Did you just throw shade?" asked Shego as Drakken casually walked into the lair. He turned around and shrugged.

"Slim shade..." He walked out of view.

"Oh my..." Shego scoffed and smirked. "Okay, I see how it's going to be."

TO BE CONTINUED (Link above For More While Waiting to Post the others here on Tumblr)

#random tales of drakgo #kim possible #drakken #shego #drakgo #fanfiction #gothicthundra #fanart

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