#'damn this could have been another vegan wrap :('

[tardis--dreams]

Living my best life eating the same food every single day here

[imaginedreamwrite]

I'm been having a really bad depression right now. Been going between crying and borderline tears for the past 2 days. I would. Love something soft, sweet with any of your Ari's.

Aww, I’m so sorry! Here’s some Ari fluff for you

Werewolf!Ari:

“I made something new for you,” Ari keeps you blindfolded and sitting on the counter as he flits around the kitchen to bring you a new confection he made for you specifically, “sit still, it’ll be done soon.”

“It smells amazing in here, its like…apple-“ you try shifting on the counter and find yourself trapped between his thick, powerful arms that keep you nestled against him.

“I need you to stay still,” Ari moves one arm to grab his treat and when you feel his warm breath caressing your face you know he’s just about ready, “open your mouth.”

You follow his instruction and allow him to place the confection on your tongue, the sudden burst of flavour that comes as you start chewing has won you over again. You taste almond and cinnamon, a hint of what could be Bailey’s and a lemon zest.

“Ari, that’s the best thing I’ve ever had!” You praise him while blindfolded yet, slowly reaching for the cloth where you’re stopped.

“One more, Sweetpea.” He leans in and kisses your forehead then nudges your bottom lip with his thumb. “Try this.”

Your slowly chew when its placed in your mouth, another world of flavours coming to life. Bacon and salted caramel, vanilla and cream all swirl into an addictive enticing combination.

“Salted caramel and bacon cakes,” Ari steals a kiss, his tongue running along your bottom lip to clean your flesh, “of course with vegan, vegetarian and kosher options.”

“Ari,” you croon and shiver when he removes the blindfold, fingers trailing along your neck, “you have such a talent.”

“I have someone to share it with, Sweetpea.” He tips your chin and kisses you enticingly, his hand sweeping around to the back of your neck. “My beautiful Luna, you’ve made my life complete.”

“You’re a sap,” you giggle into the kiss and pull away, eyes searching his face, “and a damn good cook. You have more of those?”

“Absolutely,” Ari lifts you from the counter and sets you down, leading you to entire trays full of savoury and set items, “take your pick, Sweetpea.”

Taste Of Honey:

“Tell me again,” Ari hums and closes his eyes while you brush his hair back, one hand holding a book open with your thumb pressed against the pages, “I love hearing your voice.”

“I have for the first time found what I can truly love–I have found you. You are my sympathy–my better self–my good angel–I am bound to you with a strong attachment. I think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life, wrap my existence about you–and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one."

“Charlotte Brontë — Jane Eyre.” Ari hums pleasantly as his head lays in your lap and his hands are pressed against his stomach, fingers playing with the buttons on his flannel.

“You are my everything, you have filled my lungs with air and my heart with joy. You have the ability to bring me to my knees with a single touch of your hand upon mine and your lips whisper the sweetest melody. In the dark I think of you, in the light I wish for you.”

“What is that?” You question, fingers playing with his soft brown locks as he turns into your touch and hums in pleasure.

“Its my own words,” Ari looks at you through his lashes, his blue eyes searching yours with growing admiration and adoration, “my own truth. You are my everything.”

“You have a silver tongue,” you tease him and lean in to kiss him gently and softly, the subtle shift of your lips against his is a message of mutual desire and want, “charming to a fault.”

“Keep reading, honeybee. Keep going, I love your voice.”

“I love you.”

[narraboths]

you know that catco employees are already groaning whenever Kara walks into the office with a new hairstyle or a new outfit bc they know they're going have to put up with their boss staring like she's never seen a woman before

Kara Danvers is, objectively speaking, an incredibly worthy object of one’s workplace crush.

Most of CatCo’s employees will readily admit that they’ve all been there: Kara Danvers is lovely and kind, she has the nicest laugh, she’s practically sunshine personified. She remembers people’s birthdays, brings them coffee unasked, and attempts to temper Cat Grant’s wrath whenever it threatens to strike. Even when she gets bumped to junior reporter, she’s still the same charming goofball, only she now rushes in and out of the building chasing stories  with a vengeance instead of lattes. Who could ever resist a crush on her?

Most of CatCo’s employees, however, will also hasten to point out that they could at least keep their infatuation to a reasonable level.

When Lena Luthor first walks into the CatCo bullpen, heading towards Kara without sparing a look for anyone else, the bullpen falls so deadly silent for a second, the clicking of her Louboutins is the only sound that can be heard. Then they all go back to acting totally, extremely normal, as if the most notorious new citizen of National City (a billionaire tech genius at that) isn’t flirting up a storm with a cub reporter right before their very eyes. They only snicker about the gala invitation in a very restrained way, with the appropriate amount of concern and jealousy, Luthor sure knows what connections she needs, Danvers better look out and You’d be trying to make that connection too if you were in her position.

Then the visits become a regular occurrence. 

Lena Luthor, CEO of a Fortune 500 company and a staple of 30 under 30 lists, shows up every week, and patiently waits around till Kara, who earnestly says golly and has to be reminded that exclusive is spelled without a ‘k’, stumbles across her. She beams at Kara’s rambling, laughs delightedly at her bad puns, calls her darling in a tone of voice that makes eavesdroppers blush, and bites her lip like she knows exactly what it is that she’d like to devour, and it’s certainly not the vegan bar that she’s dragging Kara away to for lunch. (CatCo refuses to publish the paparazzi shots that surface every third day of the week, but other outlets are not so squeamish.) And Kara meets her every step of the way, face lighting up whenever she sees Lena (even on TV, some note), hugging her tightly with every hello and goodbye even longer than necessary. She gushes about Lena’s projects and meets Lena’s own compliments to her writing with bashful smiles and fidgeting hands. Properly and utterly enamored.

The office settles into the new status quo, young love and all, though it seems to be incredibly slow-burning, with the entirety of CatCo (and likely half of L-Corp) getting front-row tickets to its process. Snapper mumbles about professional boundaries. People start a betting pool, and stare at Kara with a bit more hopeless yearning when she storms past them to greet Lena with a wide smile.

But then, there’s something else that changes with their courtship: Kara starts to get dapper.

She’s already looked unreasonably dashing in thin cardigans and pastel button-ups before, drawing dreamy sighs from the interns she’d stroll past. Now, it’s starting to verge on it’s a public menace to look that hot. The shirts get tighter, more crisp, and with it, her biceps and powerful shoulders considerably more accentuated. Well-tailored jackets start to make an appearance in her wardrobe, along with slim ties (their quirky patterns a testament to Kara’s nature), and elegantly knit jumpers come winter. And Kara starts to stand a little taller, too, shoulders squared and chin held high, her steps ever so slightly wider and more confident every time she has to chase after Snapper in one of their daily bouts.

The effect of it in the office is most profound. A rolled-up shirtsleeve and a hint of tensing muscles, and Jen at the art department almost scraps a magazine cover in her stupor. An unbuttoned collar and loosened tie at a late night editorial meeting, and Mackenzie nearly pours her coffee into her lap. 

And the very cause of this upheaval is certainly not immune to Kara’s newfound charms, either. There’s already been plenty of physical affection between the pair, as most of the office and a whole wealth of pap photos would attest, but now, it’s bordering on handsiness. Lena takes any opportunity to squeeze Kara’s arm, run a hand over her shoulder, or rest a hand on her forearm as they talk, and the bullpen grows green with jealousy.

When Cat Grant departs for the White House and L-Corp swoops in for the acquisition, the mood turns explosive.

Any illusions about the lovebirds keeping things more strictly professional with the change of management are shattered when Kara strides into the boss’ office with a gift-wrapped planner, all giddy, only to be greeted with their usual hug. Someone lets out a groan.

It only gets expectably worse.

It’s no fault of Lena Luthor’s overall management style – she’s a decent boss, a shockingly good one, even, if one considers the family name and all its implications, and infinitely milder than Miss Grant had been. But there’s only so many times one can witness their chief blushing in the middle of a meeting, or get lost in impure thought staring through the glass walls of the boardroom, out into the bullpen where the office heartthrob is currently stretching, providing an ample view of her entire upper body musculature. There’s only so many times they can watch Lena lean against Kara’s desk and reach down to gently smooth out her shirt’s collar or fiddle with the lapels of her jacket as they talk. At some point, Lena helping Kara tie the bespoke silk tie that she’s recently gifted her after a trip to Italy, batting away her “Lena, you really shouldn’t have” with “Nonsense, darling” and then stopping to fiddle with the damn thing, staring up at Kara with that unmistakably smitten expression becomes just another Tuesday morning at CatCo.

To say that there is a sigh of relief once news of CatCo once again changing hands start to spread is no understatement.

Andrea Rojas seems like a hardass and people start to feel a sense of comfort. She’s a businesswoman through and through, one whose ideas about running the place might be battled, but one who certainly won’t be head over heels for a pair of pretty blue eyes and jacked arms.

Antsiness and relief thus both settle over the first office-wide meeting Ms Rojas calls, preparing to address the entire staff. The first couple of sentences are delivered smoothly, with none of the longing looks cast into the crowd towards a certain blonde that they’ve had to get used to before, and people are starting to feel safe.

Then, getting to the meat of her speech, Andrea Rojas takes a breath and turns towards where the cream of CatCo’s crop is gathered, with Kara Danvers standing at the very front, arms crossed, navy suit hugging her imposing figure tightly, forehead crinkled in annoyed concentration.

Andrea Rojas looks, then looks again, and skids to a halt, lips parting as she takes in the view. Twelve seconds go by, an agonizing eternity, before she’d continue her speech, her gaze returning to Kara again and again.

“If you have any questions about the future of CatCo, I’d be happy to hear them now,” she finishes. “Or in my office, if you’d prefer to sound your concerns in private.”

She looks around, almost haughty before she’d turn her gaze to Kara again, biting her lip as they lock eyes, and someone in the back finally decides to give voice to what they’re all feeling:

"Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

[whosharrystylesanyway]

Capisce?

A/N: Hello!! I've been on a very long fic writing hiatus, but something about this fic slam by @oh-honey-styles has sparked inspiration! I do hope that you enjoy and please don't hesitate to let me know if you enjoyed it or not!! Thank you! Happy reading! P.S. this has a lot of talk of dishwashers for someone who doesn't use one.

Word count: 1.2k

“Ow, Harry!” you shout out, pushing him off your chest with as much might as you could muster up. “Your damn puberty stache is scratchy, you know!” You cover the bottom of his face with both your hands, which results in him biting the inside of your hand as retaliation.

He blows air out of his nose, “You know your leg hair is scratching me as we speak, but at least I have the decency to not mention it,” he jests. He dives back into your neck, blowing raspberries against the base of it, nipping occasionally just to get a rise out of you.

“You’ve got one more time to irk me and I’m out of here!” He rolls his eyes as if to say yeah right. You also don’t believe your own words as you say them. He finally stops his attack on your neck, turning over onto what you and him have both deemed as his side of the bed; the right side, he prefers.

Silence falls over your bedroom, a comfortable silence that 7 months ago would have caused you so much anxiety you would go home, but now, 8 months into this—whatever this is, you welcome it after getting to know Harry so well. Isn’t it crazy what mutual friends and a couple conversations over cocktails can turn into?

“Can I tell you something,” you ask him, breaking the silence. Vulnerability suddenly sinking in like it tends to do when you’re around him. He always gets you to open up like no other man has ever been able to before, you chalk it up to his overwhelmingly charming aura.

He hums a yes, turning back to face you.

“I think you’re very special, Harry. You’re so special, and everyone loves you and I don’t know, I-I’m scared that you’ll break my heart or something. This...this thing between us, it’s good right? I jus- I just want to be enough for you,” you huff out, pulling the sheets over your head in embarrassment.

Harry smirks and chuckles at your hasty confession. “You’re more than enough, love. Too much actually if I’m honest”

“Quit smirking at me, I’m serious!“ you whine at him. “That’s not very treat people with kindness of you”

He giggles that adorably boyish giggle, but looking at him anyone can see he is a man. A very important man who had admirers all over the world, but somehow you lucked out and he became your only admirer. You’re the one he looked for when he was on stage. The one he called at 2 A.M when he woke up in a completely different time zone, but wanted to say good morning regardless. The one who he always found an excuse to touch when you were out with your friends. The one who’s bed he rolled around in to leave his smell in it before he left.

“I’m jokinggg,” he quips. He wrestles you from out under the sheets. You elbow him in his side for his joking in your time of humiliating self-doubt.

“Well, how ‘bout this,” he takes your hands in his, pulling them up to his mouth and smothering small kisses to your palm. “Right now, in this moment, I promise to you that I will do everything in my power to not break your heart and you promise to do everything in yours not to break mine? Capisce?”

Harry has nothing but sincerity in his eyes waiting for your response. You wonder how you got so lucky to get this magnificent, magnetic man to be yours, in whatever capacity that happened to be.

“Capase,” you laugh out. You kiss him quickly, before moving to get up. Two very strong, very tattooed arms wrap around your waist, stopping you from your task.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he questions, pulling you back into his arms. Spooning you, resuming his attack on your neck like the pest he is.

You burst out into laughter, trying and failing to escape his grasp, ‘I need to go load the dishwasher!” Laughing harder as he begins tickling your side, showing no mercy.

“Oh no, ya don’t. Can’t leave me all alone in this bed, naked and….naked,” he whispers into your ear, moving his hands down further underneath the covers. And well, you suppose he’s right.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The next morning, there in front of your dishwasher; unloading an already clean load of dishes, stood Harry.

You admired him for a minute. All 6 feet, broad shoulders and robust chest, of him that is. He pulls out a dish towel from your kitchen drawer, and you can’t help but notice how familiar and comfortable he is in your kitchen. You clear your throat to make yourself known.

“Wait a minute..” you begin walking towards him, as he turns around from buffing the forks off with the dish towel. “Let me get this straight? You’re handsome, funny, a millionaire, make the most amazing vegan omelettes ever, can give me four orgasms during only foreplay, AND you do dishes?”

“Correct,” he answers back smirking, moving to the island to finish chopping some fresh strawberries on the cutting board. “Problem?”

“Nah, no problem. Just can’t believe someone hasn’t wifed you up yet” you quip, while stealing one of the strawberries and trying to avoid his light smack on your hand.

He laughs while plating his and yours omelettes on a plate with the strawberries and buttered toast. “Maybe I just haven’t found the right husband material,” he jokes back.

With a quick wink, you simply replied, “Keep this up and I might not let you leave for tour mister”

You look up at him, shyly, wondering how he might take that sentiment. If it bothered him, it certainly didn’t show on his face. He just smiles at you, and lowers to give you a quick peck, tasting of strawberries and something all his own. “Maybe that’s my master plan,” he whispers against your lips, before going in for another kiss. Deeper this time, his intentions clear in how he grips your thighs and squeezes your hip.

He lifts you up onto the counter, omelettes pushed aside and forgotten, moving to kiss your neck and the top of your breasts. “Harry..” you sigh out, pulling his hair to get him to stop and focus on you for a second.

He looks at you with those evergreen eyes and lips flushed from how hard he kissed you before and it just comes out. You don’t mean to say it, in fact, you never thought of yourself as the girl who says it first. But there in that moment, you couldn’t deny what you felt. “I love you,” soft and faint, but you said it.

He stares at you for what feels like hours, but could only have been about 40 seconds. And then he says it back, as hushed as you did; raspy, deep and confident. “I love you too”

You pull him back into your mouth, noses knocking against each other from the force of your kiss. He swipes his pink tongue against your bottom lip, asking for your permission. You grant it undoubtedly.

Harry breaks the kiss, pecking against your jaw, your neck, your sternum…

“Here, let me show you how much,” he purrs into you stomach, kissing his way down your thighs, inches away from where you want him to be. Before he dives in, you hear him mutter

“By the way, I can give you five orgasms during foreplay, actually”

[letsgivethisonemoreshot]

BruiserMates

Word Count: 4,644 (it's a long one)

Warnings: Sexual Situations, banter, there's some fluff in there somewhere.

Summary: The British Bruiserweight is more grumpy than usual. But his friends and a co-worker think they just might know a way to fix it. (Also, I tried to make an attempt to keep true with accents for the first time. So I apologize if it's horrible!)

The lukewarm water rushed out of a shower head in the back of the arena. The water pressure in these showers were never that good, but it was early and Lauren had the whole locker room to herself. She had the curtain drawn for privacy, just in case anyone else arrived early. Mostly because she was in the men’s showers. And just as she was rinsing the shampoo out of her hair, she heard several voices from the locker room echo into the bathroom.

"You could've stopped to get breakfast first." A British accent rang out.

"They 'ad food at the hotel." The familiar accent of Pete filled the room.

"Not anything for a vegan. And ya know that." Another voice argued.

"I don't know every damn vegan place in tha country." Pete spat back.

"Uh guys, just so you know you're not alone in here." Lauren informed them.

"Who in the bloody hell is that?"

"Lauren. I'm a backstage interviewer here. I really needed a shower after my workout before I got ready to work and they were cleaning in the women's locker room when I got there. No one was in here so I ran in. I'll be quick." She explained.

"Pete?"

"Yeah, she works here." He vouched, recognizing her voice.

"Ah. Alright then love. As long as you work here. I'm Tyler by the way."

"Trent." The other voice rang out.

"You guys are here from NXT UK for the tag tournament, right?" Lauren asked.

"You got it love." Trent answered as he turned on a shower on the opposite side of where Lauren was. "And you don't 'av to rush. We don't mind if you don't."

"As long as you stay on that side of the curtain." Lauren responded in a joking but friendly way.

"Great." Pete murmured.

"What's wrong with you?" Trent asked him.

"He's still sore about his girlfriend messin' around on him." Tyler answered getting ready to get a shower himself.

"Tell my business to the whole locker room, why don't ya." Pete said annoyed.

"She's the only otha one in here. And she sees ya more than us. I'm sure she's noticed you're grumpy."

"No more than usual." Lauren said as she conditioned her hair.

"Aw piss off all of ya."

"See? He's always this pleasant."

"I thought you said you were gonna be quick." Pete pointed out.

"I was, until Trent was nice enough to tell me I didn't have to. So now I'm taking my time."

Pete let out an aggravated grunt. "I can't shower with 'er in here."

"Relax Pete, I'm almost done. What brings you guys in here so early anyway?"

"Time change. Kind of has us messed up. And Pete just doesn't sleep." Tyler replied. "What about you? And working out nonetheless. I’d think you’d moreso be off writing questions."

"How else am I supposed to fit myself into those tiny dresses they want me to wear?" Lauren partially joked, causing two of the englishmen to chuckle. "I have a few interviews I have to do for some social media shows before the actual show tonight. This was the only time I could fit in a work out. I was going to shower real quick then get to work, but the women’s bathroom was closed, so I that brought me here. I guess it’s just bad timing.”

"Ah, I wouldn't say that love." Trent said.

"Well maybe not on my part. Anybody could walk in here. So many people have probably had fantasies that start like this. But apparently, it’s bad timing for some of you.”

"Would any of those fantasies include any of us by any chance?" Trent asked in a joking tone.

“Trent, ya can’t just ask a woman ya just met something like that.” Tyler chastised.

“Why not? I’m just joking.”

"Hm, some just might." Lauren answered.

"For fucks sake…"

"Jesus Pete calm down, I'm done. I'll be out of your hair in a minute." Lauren said as she turned off the water and wrapped her towel around herself.

"Yeah relax mate. We're just messin' around." Trent said to his friend.

"You need to get laid." Lauren stated.

"Excuse me?" Pete asked, sounding offended.

"We've been telling him that the last two weeks love." Tyler said to her.

She pulled open the curtain and stepped out of the shower stall. "Take it from someone who pushed away a lot of her friends by being a negative mope after going through a rough breakup. If she's gonna fuck around, then so can you. Try smiling, go get laid, and live. See ya later boys. I believe I'll be the one interviewing you later!" Lauren called out before walking away.

Lauren left them alone in the men's locker room and walked back to the women's which was thankfully now able to be occupied. She walked quicker than she planned seeing as how she couldn't get dressed there with the guys there. So she was running around in just a towel. No one had really showed up to get ready yet, but she still had to go over interview questions, get dressed, and was expected by the stylists soon. She was rummaging through her bag when there was a lock at the door. She dropped what was in her hands and curiously walked over to the door. Upon opening it she saw an annoyed Pete Dunne standing there. He was still in his trousers, nice button down shirt, and vest. His hair pulled back. Obviously he still hadn't gotten into the shower yet.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from you? Miss me already?"

Pete held out a plastic bag with tiny bottles inside. "Ya left your crap in the shower."

"And you're such a gentleman you brought it back to me?" Lauren joked.

"I drew the short straw."

"You sure it doesn't have anything to do with what I said?" She asked as she took the plastic bag from him. “Because my fantasies about you usually start with me still dressed and you ripping my clothes off me, but if this is how it happens I’ll take it.”

“No, it’s because I was the only one who was still dre…wait, what?”

Lauren smiled "Thanks for bringing my stuff back Pete. I forgot it in all the conversation. And if you’re just here to drop it off, I really need to finish getting ready. I need to be in make-up soon. I’ll see you around later.”

She closed the door, leaving Pete standing there dumbfounded at the interaction he just had.

Lauren had gotten dressed and was sitting in the make-up chair. She had decided on a short black off the shoulder dress. Even though the shoulders were bare, the dress had long sleeves, making a bit more acceptable in the workplace. The strappy heels that she had on also made it a bit less casual. She already had her hair done. She chose to leave it down since it was only shoulder length, but add some waves to it. Pete had wandered over to the area as Lauren was laughing while the make-up artist applied the dusty pink lipstick. Lauren was deep in conversation with the artist. She got along with everyone. Well, mostly everyone. She was easy to talk to and calming, which was a plus with her job. The interviews always flowed nicely and never seemed forced. She never really had any real problems with anyone she worked with. Pete leaned against a wall off to the side watching her talk. He had his wrestling gear on now, and had his long hair dangling down over half of his face.

"Alright, all set. How's it look?" The make-up artist asked as she held up a mirror.

"It looks great! Thanks Rachel!"

"Awesome. If you need a touch up just let me know."

"I will. Thanks!"

Lauren checked in the mirror one last time, pursing her lips together, before jumping out of the make-up chair and leaving it for someone else. She walked away from the styling area and right passed where Pete was brooding.

"Lauren."

"Hey Pete." Lauren replied as she walked by.

"Hey, hold up."

"What's up?" She asked as she stopped and turned to him.

"You tell me." Pete stated.

"Is this about what I said earlier? I’m sorry for getting involved in your business. And I never would have said anything had we not already been in the middle of a conversation. But I’ve been there, and I didn’t want you to end up pushing your friends away with your bad attitude like I did.” She explained.

"Not that. After. At the locker room." Pete said in a much lower voice.

Lauren smiled and crossed her arms. "What is this? When is Pete Dunne so timid?"

Pete rolled his eyes. "F'get it."

"No I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself." Lauren said reaching out to grab his arm. "I'll be good. What did you want?"

"You to stop being intimidating for a moment would be good."

"I've heard that once or twice before, but not from anyone like you."

"What you said earlier, did you mean it?" Pete asked changing the subject.

"That you need a good lay to forget about her? Absolutely. Your friends seemed to agree."

"No. That you've 'ad fantasies about me." He said as he took a step closer to her.

"Maybe a few times." She answered, surprising him by the serious tone in her voice. He stood there not quite sure how to follow up while Lauren opened the small bag she had with her and looked through it. "Listen, I really have to go and interview Daniel Bryan. But if you want to take my advice, I would love to be the girl that gets under you to get over her. Room 308 if you're interested."

She slipped her spare hotel key into his hand before turning around and continuing to walk down the hallway. Later on that night Pete sat in the back watching the show on a t.v. He was watching Lauren interview his two best friends while he spun the hotel key around in his fingers while being lost in thought. He pulled it together to go out and put on a good show, like he always did. All of his cockiness and aggression was on display. Lauren had been watching his match extra closely that night.

After the show Lauren was sitting alone in her hotel room. She hadn't made any plans for the night in case Pete decided to show up. After about an hour of waiting, she decided to change her clothes and get comfortable. She had the television on and was laying down in the bed, trying to relax, but she found herself not paying attention to it and trying to figure out what reasons Pete could have for not showing up. After driving herself crazy for some time, around 11:30 she realized she was being silly. His good friends whom he hadn't seen in months were in the country for a bit, so he was going to be spending time with them. Plus with all the joking around that she had done with him that day he probably didn't even think she was serious. Or maybe he just wasn’t interested and didn’t know how to tell her in a nice way. Lauren grabbed her phone and laid down on her bed to play some games until she got tired. Only a few minutes after she relaxed herself for the night, there was a knock at her door.

Lauren put her phone down and got out of bed. She walked over to the door curious of who could be there this time of night, especially without texting her first. She looked through the peephole and saw Pete standing on the other side. She quickly opened the door.

"You do realize I gave you a key so you wouldn't have to knock and wait in the hallway, right?"

"I didn't feel right usin' it." Pete told her.

Lauren opened the door wider and stepped aside inviting him in. He stood near her as she closed the door.

"I see you stayed dressed for me." Pete joked as he looked at her in her pink tank top and black yoga pants.

"I could say the same for you." Lauren retorted noticing Pete was in grey sweatpants and a t-shirt.

"It's not m' job to look pretty." Pete stated.

"Good thing I'm off the clock then."

They hadn't really talked much before now, other than just a hello or exchanging pleasantries. Maybe being involved in the same conversation as a group of people. Mostly that was because Pete kept to himself or only really talked with the people he was close to, where as Lauren would talk with everyone and insert herself into others conversations. But Pete definitely took notice today that not many people were able to throw back at him the way that she did, and he liked it.

"So did you just come here to criticize my clothes or…" Lauren trailed off.

"Actually, I wanted to talk." He answered.

"Oh, uh okay."

Lauren definitely hadn't been expecting that. She lead him into the room a little bit more and she sat down on the edge of the bed. Pete took one of the seats that were in the room and placed it in front of her before sitting down as well.

"So?"

"I've been thinking about what ya said. And you're right. If she's gonna bang a bunch of guys and not care, then I should too. Well, ya know."

"So what's the hold up?" Lauren asked.

"I don't want pity sex with someone just because they feel sorry fa' me. Especially if it's someone I 'av to work with."

"I can understand that. I'm not really one for random hook ups either." Lauren agreed.

"But then why did you…"

"I like you Pete." Lauren told him.

"Why? I'm kind of a bastard." Pete asked confused.

Lauren laughed. "Yeah, most of the time. I've watched you. You're grumpy face and your angry promos. But I've also seen the way you joke around with your friends. I've seen how interact with kids. I know how much you care about animals. There's a sweet guy behind that whole bruiserweight thing."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Your best friends. Those goofballs wouldn't waste their time with a complete asshole." Lauren answered with a smile. She reached out and placed her hand over top of his. "I'll be honest. I've had the hots for you since you started coming around. And then when I actually learned things about you I had a crush on you. And seeing you laugh with your friends, I've wondered what it would have been like if we had that kind of relationship."

Pete couldn't help but flash a genuine smile that he usually kept hidden. "Why didn't ya eva say anything?"

"You had a girlfriend, remember?"

"Right. Right. Forgot about that."

"Well that was the plan." Lauren giggled.

"So girls really dig the whole aggressive arse thing huh?" Pete asked amused.

"Oh yeah. There's something wired wrong in our brains. And the accent doesn't hurt either.”

Pete leaned back slightly in his chair and chuckled.

"Did I just make Pete Dunne laugh?" Pete didn't even try to hide it this time after she pointed it out. "Up until now I think I've only made you scowl."

"Yeah yeah, just don't spread it around."

"Don't wanna ruin your unlovable reputation, huh?"

They both sat in awkward silence for a few moments, neither knowing what to say next. Pete fidgeted in his chair slightly before standing up. Lauren promptly stood up along with him. He reached out and pulled her to him so her body was flushed with his, wrapping his arms around her in a bear hug. The act took her by surprise.

"Thanks." He said into her ear.

Lauren put her arms around her torso returning the hug. But her senses perked up. He was still holding her, his head down and his nose grazing her neck. The thought of his mouth that close to her, with his history of biting, sent an electric wave through her nerves. She tried to push those thoughts out of her head and hugged him tighter.

"Anytime Pete." She said lightly.

Pete broke the hug and stepped aside looking down at her smiling. She gave him a half hearted smile. She was glad that she was able to be there for him, and it seemed like there was a friendship forming between them. But she was a little disappointed that it wasn't going further. And embarrassed that she told him how she felt, and now she had to deal with him at work all the time with him knowing that. She didn't say anything as she followed him as he walked to the door.

"I'll see ya around, alright?" Pete said as he put his hand on the doorknob.

Lauren nodded with a smile. She closed the door behind him and leaned it against it sighing. She felt like an idiot. She was just hoping he wouldn't make a big deal about it at work. She began walking back to her bed. When she was a few steps away, she heard the door click. She turned around and saw the knob turning. It pushed open and Pete walked back inside.

"Hey. Everything okay?" She asked confused.

He slammed the door behind him and walked towards Lauren, throwing the room key onto the bed as he passed it. He made it to where she was and placed his bands on her hips and pushed her up against the wall crashing his lips down onto hers. Lauren put her hands up on his shoulders, bracing herself at his actions. He moved his hands from her hips up to her sides all while continuing kissing her neck. He traced along the top of her tank top before grabbing it with both hands and ripping it down the middle. Lauren gasped into his mouth. Pete didn't give her any time to adjust to what he was doing before his hands traveled back down her body and behind her thighs picking her up and pressing her against the wall. He tore his lips away from hers to slowly lick down her chest until stopping at her partially exposed breast. He lightly licked around her nipple a few times before taking it into his mouth. Lauren ran her fingers through Pete's hair, softly moaning. When he lightly bit down she moaned deeper and arched her back off of the wall. Pushing herself even further into him, she became even more aware that her legs were spread around him and she could feel herself getting wetter every time he nibbled.

Pete pulled her away from the wall and carried her over to the bed. Lauren laid on the bed looking up at him trying to catch her breath. He was looking down at her with his signature cocky smirk. He reached out and lightly grabbed the waistband of her pants before yanking them off and crawling on top of her. Pete nuzzled into her neck kiss and biting causing her to arch her hips up and feel the large bulge in his sweatpants. Lauren slid her hands under his shirt and scraped her fingers down his chest bringing a low growl from him.

"You are wearing entirely too many clothes." Lauren informed him.

Pete chuckled, but it wasn't the light hearted one from earlier, there was a deeper tone to it. There was something sexy in that chuckle. He leaned up onto his knees and peeled his shirt off.

Lauren took the moment to just look at him, kneeling in front of her with his hair hanging down partially in his face. Watching his eyes in the light. He could see her eyes glancing up and down his body.

"Is this what ya wanted?" He asked.

"Fuck yes." Lauren answered out loud, instead of in her head like she planned. "But this was supposed to be for you."

"Does it seem like I'm not enjoyin' it?"

"Well yeah, but what is it you want?" Lauren asked.

"Haven't been asked that in a long time. Honestly?" Lauren nodded. "I want someone to want to be with me. Not just use me ta get off and pass out. Someone who enjoys being with me. To feel loved."

Lauren leaned up so she was sitting up in bed facing him. "Really?"

"Yeah. Sounds stupid. I guess when ya with someone for so long those things kind of become lost."

"No Pete, they don't." Lauren said as she placed her hand on his face. "That's what happens when people stop caring."

The words hurt Pete, but deep down he knew she was right.

"Lay down." She told him.

"What?" He asked confused.

"Take your pants off and lay down. Let me take care of you." She said it in such a calming tone, you'd forget they were just dry humping each other.

He complied with what she asked. Lauren removed her underwear and straddled him. He rubbed his hands on her thighs She pulled off what was left of her shirt. Pete unknowingly bit his lower lip upon seeing her naked in front of him.

"Like what ya see?" She asked with a coy smirk

"Damn love."

"You sure you wanna do this?" She asked him.

"Love if you don't get on me right now I'm going to push you down and get back on top of you."

Lauren smiled and moved to slide herself down onto his dick. She gasped as she slid down. She could have guessed the size of it based on what he wore in the ring, but she didn't think it was as thick as it was. Pete hissed as she began riding him.

"Fuck babe. You're so tight." He commented.

"Yeah, it's been a while." She replied as she rolled her hips.

"You're so wet." He stated.

"I told you, I like you. Now are you gonna do commentary the whole time or just enjoy it?"

"Oh I'm enjoying it love." Pete said as his hands slid up her legs. He groaned as he saw her bouncing on him, her breasts bouncing along with her. He ran his hand along her body and brushed his finger onto her clit causing her to yelp. He liked the sound that she made and continued to rub along her clit as she rode him.

"Fuck Pete if you keep that up I'm not gonna last long." She warned him.

"You keep makin' those sounds I won't eithea."

Lauren pushed his hand out of the way and brought her upper body down so she could kiss him before moving to his neck. She began kissing and sucking on his neck like he had been doing to her earlier. Pete reached around with both hands to grab her ass. She was moving at a slow and steady pace, keeping with his grunts of pleasure. She would bite down on his neck every once in a while hoping to catch him off guard. He would squeeze his grip tighter pushing her at a different pace causing her to moan.

"Wait, Lauren stop." Pete said suddenly.

Lauren stopped and sat up. "What's wrong?"

"I wanna be on top." He told her.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

Lauren wanted to stay on top and take care of him, but it's what he said he wanted to she switched positions with him. She had to admit having Pete in between her legs staring her down was something she had thought about several times. He began placing kisses down her collar bone as she ran her fingers through his hair again.

"Mmmm Pete, please." Lauren begged bringing a smile to his lips.

"Please what?" Pete asked as he ran his length along her entrance, teasing her.

"I know I'm being selfish at the moment but please, I need you." She moaned as she tried to push herself closer to him.

"Baby, I love hearing you beg." He said as he entered her starting slow at first.

"Pete, faster please."

Pete grunted before speeding up, loving the feeling of her needing him, He began to thrust harder as he sped up. Lauren wrapped his leg up around his waist to give him better access.

"Oh God Pete, I'm so close." Lauren said as she scratched her nails down his back.

"Let go for me love." He rasped into her ear.

Lauren grabbed onto Pete's face to pull him into a passionate kiss as she came. Pete finished shortly after her before collapsing next to her. Their session was relatively quick, but emotional and intense. They laid next to each other trying to catch their breath.

"Well, that was unexpected." Pete stated.

"Yeah, definitely didn't think that was gonna happen when I woke up this morning." Lauren agreed as she laid next to him.

"I'm sorry it wasn't really what ya wanted." Pete apologize.

"What do you mean?"

"Ya said you wanted aggressive, and ripping clothes off, and all that."

Lauren leaned up on her elbow and turned to face him. "That's one of the things I've thought about, but I really just wanted you Pete."

He responded by lightly placing his hand on her head and pulling it down to rest on his chest. Lauren laid there cuddling on Pete, which is something she never would have expected from him, and soon found herself falling asleep.

Around three in the morning Lauren jerked awake. She didn't mean to fall asleep. She didn't even realize she was that worn out. Or maybe just comfortable. The room was now all dark, Pete must have turned the lights out. She couldn't see anything but she felt over to the other side of the bed and it was empty. Of course it was. He came for what she said she'd give him and then left. He wasn't looking for anything beyond that. Lauren knew that when she offered him to come to her too, but she didn't think it would hurt that much when he was gone. She laid back down in her beg and pulled the covers up feeling pretty stupid. Just then she heard the toilet in her bathroom flush and the door open. Pete walked out of the bathroom and back over to the bed.

"Pete?" Lauren asked.

"Hm." He replied.

"I thought you left."

"Why tha hell would I do that?" He asked as he pulled up the covers and got back into bed next to her.

"You were gone. I thought you got what you wanted and left. Especially after I fell asleep on you."

"I believe you're tha one that wanted this love." He reminded her. "You’re the one that offered."

"Well, yeah…"

Pete wrapped his arm around her waist and held her hand, lacing his fingers in with hers. He nuzzled his nose into the back of her neck.

"I'm pretty glad you did though." He admitted. This was the most love he had felt in a long time. He really felt like the person he was with wanted him, needed him. That she was focused on him, and it made him want to be focused on her. He felt an actual connection, which is something that he had been missing.

"I'm not goin anywhere for awhile love." He said as he squeezed her into hug, pulling her body to his. "I loved those sounds I heard earlier. They drove me crazy. I look forward ta havin' ya make more."

Lauren giggled as Pete kissed the back of her neck. Neither knew what the future would hold, but right now they were both enjoying the moment.

[vintagedolan]

concept: fucking grayson in new jersey

say less

“Gray-”

“Nah, fuck this, bro! He shoulda just kept his fucking mouth shut if he was gonna pussy out. Pisses me the fuck off.”

Ethan sighed, looking over at Karoly and then at you, eyebrows raised. You knew what he wanted - he wanted you to calm his brother down, put your hands on his face, make him look at you in the eyes like you always did when he got worked up like this. You nodded at E, moving to where Grayson had paced off to, just off the gravel of the driveway, both boys right behind you. 

You put one hand on his shoulder and felt his tense muscles relax at your touch.

“Sorry-”

“Don’t be. He’s a little bitch, and if you don’t call him out, I’m going to.”

Suddenly, 3 pairs of eyes were on you, incredulous. And then they were laughing, so loud that it bounced off the trees on the other side of the drive, filled the evening air. 

“That’s my fuckin’ girl,” Grayson beamed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you up against him so he could kiss you hard. You melted into him for a moment but pulled back before you could get lost in it. You had a tendency to forget your surroundings when he kissed you like that, and you didn’t need the teasing from E and Ryan all night. 

“C’mon, Ma said she stocked up on vegan ice cream before we came,” E mumbled, leading the way back to the house with quick strides, hoping to get back before it got dark. 

Grayson held back a bit, arm snaking around your waist for a moment and then he paused, moving in front of you and crouching down. You weren’t sure why he loved to give you piggy back rides - it was just one of those things he thought was cute. So you happily jumped on, pressing a kiss to his cheek once you got settled with his hands under your thighs.

“I love you, you know that?” 

“Love you more,” you hummed.

“Not possible.”

You just shook your head and kissed him again, loving the way his hands squeezed your thighs when you did. 

“I really do wanna call him out you know, I wasn’t kidding,” you mumbled, resting your cheek on his shoulder as he walked, the crunch of the gravel below his feet louder than Ethan and Karoly’s conversation a few yards ahead. 

“You can do whatever you want baby, but don’t feel like you have to. I’ll be fine.”

“But you were so excited,” you pouted. “You ordered mats and everything.” 

“I know, but I can always send them back. It’s no big deal.”

“Don’t send them back, you and Ryan and E can still wrestle, it’ll just be for fun. I’d love to see you show off, even if it’s just at home. I was excited to see you train, see what you used to do.” 

You could practically feel his chest puff up as you spoke and he craned his neck so he could see your face.

“Yeah?”

“Hell yeah. Maybe you can teach me a few moves,” you grinned, moving to kiss him again. He stopped walking as you got the porch, deepening it again, swiping his tongue into your mouth as best he could from his angle. 

“I can think of a few I could show you.” His tone dropped, and if you could have clenched your thighs together, you would have. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. But, ice cream first so we don’t seem sus.” 

“Ugh,” you grumbled, making him chuckle as he let you down, pressed a kiss to your temple and led you inside by the hand. Ethan already had your favorite flavor by the chair you usually sat in and he passed you a spoon, giving you a quick appreciative smile when you sat down. 

Inevitably, the boys got into another middle school story, full of names you didn’t know and places you’d never been. You let them have their fun, spooning out bites of ice cream while you scrolled through twitter, seeing everyone’s chatter about Logan shit talking on his podcast. 

It wasn’t that you wanted to see your boyfriend wrestle the prick - in fact, you knew you’d be nervous to see him in an actual match like that. But you’d watched him get so excited, so hyped up to get a chance to really get do the thing that he loved so much again, and you were seething that someone had gotten his hopes up just to back out. 

You didn’t think much when you typed it out.

oh so we’re saying “more important things on the horizon” instead of “I’m scared as fuck” now?🤔 my b, I didn’t get that memo

You hit send on the tweet and locked your phone, moving back to your pint of ice cream and minding your own business. Eventually, both Grayson and Ethan’s phones buzzed - a text from other Ryan, in the group chat.

“10 points to Y/N for that subtweet.” He read. “What? What subtweet?” 

Your eyes went wide and you simply took another spoonful of ice cream into your mouth, waiting for them to find it and read it. 

Ethan found it first, and they all huddled around his screen to read, looking up at you with the same incredulous eyes as earlier. 

“You’re a fuckin’ legend,” Karoly grinned, shaking his head as the twins mouths hung open. “You think he’s gonna say some shit back to you?”

“I’d like to see him fuckin’ say somethin to her, he won’t have fingers to type with,” Grayson puffed up again and you just grinned, putting the lid back on your pint and getting up to take it to the freezer. 

“What would he even say though? I’m right, he’s just scared to embarrass himself.” 

“Damn straight,” Ethan grinned, clapping Grayson on the back as he stood to follow you. You gave your goodnights before you headed upstairs and down the hallway to the bedroom. It was the new rule - whoever had their girlfriend with them in Jersey got the bedroom and the other twin got the laundry room. 

You were particularly glad for the door, and more specifically the lock on it, which Grayson turned as soon as he followed you in and got it closed.

“C’mere.” 

You didn’t have to - he pulled you to him before you could even move, holding your face with both hands and stepping to meet you so he could kiss you fully, roughly, your whole body already buzzing as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

His hands dipped down over your ass. “Jump,” he mumbled into your mouth, not willing to break away from you just yet. You obliged, grinning as he held you up by your ass, big hands kneading slow and deep as you licked into his mouth. He shifted you just barely, and you whimpered a bit when you felt how hard he was beneath you. 

“Already?” You mumbled, ego swelling.

“Fuck yeah, don’t know why but that shit fucked me up baby,” he huffed, backing up and moving towards the bed and leaning over to lay you down gently. As soon as your legs were free of his waist he was tugging off his crewneck over his head and throwing it across the room.

“Thought you were gonna teach me some moves,” you teased, pretending to be unaffected just to spur him on. He’d find out just how wet you were in a few seconds, so you might as well have your moment of fun. 

“Tomorrow. Or shit, round two, right now I just need to fuck you baby,” he explained, pulling his pants and boxers down in one go. You reveled in the sight for the moment that you could, hard cock disappearing from view as he leaned over and hooked all his fingers into the waistband of your panties and leggings, pulling them all the way off in one swift motion.

He eyed your shirt for a minute and you got the memo, sitting up and stripping it off quickly. You barely had time to unclasp your bra before he was pushing on your legs, pulling them up and bending them to spread you open for him at the edge of the bed. 

“You ready?”

“Fuck yeah baby,” you smiled at him, reaching up for his face. He slid his hands off your thighs but you held them where they were as he pushed in, the pinch of the stretch masked by the feeling of his sweet lips on yours when he leaned forward to kiss you. 

He let out a sigh when he made it balls deep, and then he rolled his hips back only to snap them against you a moment later, so hard your whole body jolted.

“Fuck,” you groaned, already knowing that with him in that type of mood, you were in for at least two orgasms before he busted. He didn’t let up, keeping a relentless rhythm that had you biting down on his shoulder so you didn’t fully scream out his name for the whole house to hear. 

But when he found just the right spot you couldn’t help but gasp, your back arching up against him, torso to torso as he railed into you over and over. You scratched down his back.

“Fuck, shit baby right there, right there right there,” you squeaked, every muscle tensing up as your orgasm hit, warm and fluttering for a moment before you started quivering with aftershocks.

“Fuck that was hot,” he groaned, giving you one more good stroke before he pulled out, leaving you much too empty.

“What-”

“Roll over,” he instructed. You did your best with your still-quivering legs, and he took your waist in his hands, flipping you the rest of the way over - whether it was from impatience or care, you couldn’t tell. But it didn’t matter, because he wasted no time in ducking down, wrapping an arm around your hips to lift them enough to shove a pillow underneath and prop them up for him.

You craned your neck back to see him, just quick enough to catch his wink before he pushed into you again, filling you back up in an entirely different way that already had your hands grasping at the comforter. 

He was grunting and groaning so loud that you were sure the boys could hear, and you were also sure that he didn’t give a single fuck as he started to roll his hips the way he always did when he was chasing a high.

“Jesus you feel so fucking good,” he moaned, leaning over you so you could feel his weight on you as he pulled out just enough and pounded back into you in a way that had your mouth hanging open, no sound left to come out as your body started to work itself up again. 

“One more for me baby girl, give it to me, fuck,” he breathed into your ear, and it was as if that’s what your body needed to let go. Your thighs clenched together as much as they could with him in between them, which only spurred him on as he chased his own high, cumming with a groan that put his pull up sounds to shame. 

He stayed behind you for a few moments as you caught your breath, peppering kisses along your spine, your neck, your shoulders. Eventually he pulled out, making you shiver as he disappeared to the bathroom to get a washcloth for you. You let him clean you up as you continued to come down, twitching with sensitivity that made him press an apology kiss to your asscheek. 

When he disappeared again you rolled over and got up in search of clean panties, pulling some on and grabbing one of Grayson’s shirts before climbing back into bed and burrowing under the covers. 

He returned with a pair of his shorter boxer briefs on and a wide smile, sliding in next to you and wrapping you up in his arms so you were pressed to his chest - your favorite place to be, no matter where in the world you were.

[animesmutfest]

So is noone else going to acknowledge how fine this man is? No? Okay I’ll do it for you. ✍🏽

Vulcan (aged up to be 21 since he’s 18) x Reader

This is much needed personally...

Prompts: “I thought we could do more than just kissing” and “don’t run from me baby girl, take it”

Type: Needy sex

It was a nice day outside so you decide to hit the park for a bit to get a good run in before getting cozy at home. You throw on your shorts, sports bra, and shoes before heading to the park near your house. About a mile into your run you see your best friend Vulcan running your way. He flags you down as you remove your headphones and halt your running. “Hey y/n! How it’s going he says panting. Hands on your hips you reply with “it’s going... how about yourself?”you say panting yourself as your eyes trail down his shirtless body. And good God he was never lacking. His abs has a sheet of sweat on them causing his skin to have a glow to it. You snap out of it and ask what he had said, you weren’t paying attention. “Oh I was just saying we should catch up tonight. How about I come over and we can do dinner and a movie.” He says smiling. “How about dinner and wine?” You ask lifting an eyebrow smirking. He chuckles and agrees “well it’s a date then, I’ll see you at my house around 5:30” you say before jogging away. He smiles to himself happy to get to hang out with you. You both have been best friends for over 6 years and there had been several times where you both felt that you wanted more but shoved aside your feelings as to not effect the friendship. Typical love story I know but not every love story includes a drunken make out session a month before this day. You both had had one too many and one thing led to another and then you found yourself on is lap making out with him. He stopped himself from going any further with you and had a taxi take you home so you didn’t have to have regrets (such a fucking gentleman). Anyway back to today. After your run you go home to shower and think of what to cook. You decide on a really nice vegan meal you tried a few weeks back. Turning on some music you as you get dressed throwing on some shorts and a oversized sweater with a turtle on it. You make your way to the kitchen as you get out all the things you’ll need as well as pouring a glass of red wine and changing the music to something more sensual. While cutting up the veggies you find yourself dancing a bit so you don’t even hear the door open and close. Vulcan walks towards the kitchen as the music plays with you singing along. He admires the view of your curves and how they moved to the beat before sneaking behind you, he bends down behind you a bit. “Nice moves” he yells loud enough for you to notice him. You jump hard turning around and playfully hitting him in the chest. He grabs your wrist and pulls you into him chest looking at you. You hug him pressing your face into his shirt. “I missed you” you say. He hugs you back squeezing tight as he kisses your head. You look up at him meeting his blushing face. Your face red as well from being held by him. Without thinking about it too much you grab his face caressing it before wrapping your arms around his neck pulling him into a tender kiss. He pulls away slowly seeing your eye lids low and filled with lust. He kisses you again with more passion than before with his hands rubbing up your sides. After making out a bit he pulls back again, both of you panting. “I-im sorry y/n I’ll stop now before things escalate” he says looking away blushing.

You grab his gaze before he could put distance between you both “I-I though we could do more than just kissing” you say seductively grabbing a fist full of his shirt with your hands. He grabs you by your neck and kisses you passionately, sliding his tongue in your mouth, and you happily accept it. You moan into the kiss and throw your arms back up around his neck biting his bottom lip. Wasting no time your hand slides down his sweats as you palm his dick. Your eyes widen at how big it was making you flinch a bit, he smirks kissing you harder. You couldn’t even hide your fear of his size but it was also exciting to know this monster was going to be inside you. You trail kisses down his jawline to his neck leaving marks everywhere you could to lay claim on him. He grabs your hand from his pants and picks you up aggressively, walking to the bedroom. Kicking the door open and getting on the bed with you under him. Releasing your grip you start pulling his shirt off. And he does the same throwing both on the floor. Vulcan takes off your bra tossing it as well before attacking your neck with his mouth. You moan lightly as he kneads your breasts with his huge hands. “I wanted you so fucking badly y/n and for so long” he growls in your ear. You feel your pussy throb at his voice as you push him off you and tug at the waistband of his sweats and boxers. He tenses up as his dick jumps out of the fabric meanwhile your drooling over it. You tie your hair back with the holder on your wrist as he watches somewhat nervous. You get on your knees and arch you back down licking up his long shaft before grabbing it and pumping him slowly. “Fuck” a low groan leaves his lips as you flick your tongue on his aching tip. He gently grabs your ponytail and you suck him down half way before bobbing slowly up on his dick. His moans were so sexy, so honest he was being as his grip tightened. Being a brat you go as deep as you can on his dick until it hits the center of your throat. His muscles tighten up and he throws his head back. “Holy s-shit baby~” he moans bucking his hips into your throat. You deep throat him moaning while doing so driving him absolutely insane. “Mmmmph yes baby girl suck it just like that~” he moans panting heavy. You speed up your actions and gently rub his thigh as you do so. You feel him grip the sheets next to him from the pleasure and you reach down with you other hand rubbing your pussy through your shorts. “Baby girl~” he cries out indicating he was close to cumming. Your sucking him harder than before while slamming him into your throat humming in satisfaction. “Fuuuuck baby~!! I’m cumming!” He yells as his hand leaves your head and rubs his own. You don’t stop though. His breathing all over the place as you continue to slurp him down. “W-wait baby aaahhh fuck~!” He moans as he pulls you from his dick. You keep your tongue out as spit drips from it. He throws you on your back and pulls your shorts and panties off. “I bet you taste as good as you look” he groans licking his lips at your wet pussy. Kissing your thighs softly before kissing your pussy lips. He slithers his tongue through your folds and on your clit sucking it gently. Your hand grab your breast as you slightly arch your back. He watches you from below as he devours you. “Mmmmph~” he moans as he laps at your clit. “Damn baby~” you moan loudly enjoying his mouth on you. “Tastes like honey baby girl” he say smiling at you. You feel your orgasm approaching swiftly as his tongue dances with your clit. “P-please baby~” you cry out egging him on. He understand and speeds up his movements throw your legs over his shoulder and spreading you further apart. Your pussy now throbbing as you grind your hips on his face. You orgasm was so intense from just his mouth. “Yesyesyes fuuuck~” you scream as he licks up your juices. Setting your legs down he proudly watches your body twitch before putting you on your stomach and moving your leg up towards your body. He climbs on top of you kissing your neck and back.

He takes some of your juices And rubs it on his dick, holding your waist with one hand he uses the other to rub his dick on your pussy. “I’m going in...” he says before moans escape his lips as he pushes the tip in causing you to gasp and grip the bedding. “Just relax baby” he moans rubbing your back for comfort as he slides the rest inside you. “FUUCK~”you scream as his tip kisses your cervix. The only thing you could think to do was close your eyes tight to cope with the pain from being stretched. Vulcan slowly rolls his hips into you making sure that you’re taking in all of him with each stroke. “Your doing so good baby “ he moans throwing his head back as another orgasm nearly rips through your core. “Oh no~ I’m.... im c-cumming again~” you cry out. He increases his speed just a bit to help your get there and only after two strokes you scream as your pussy clenches down on his dick making it hard for him to move. “Damn baby girl~ you look so gorgeous when you cum for me” he says before running his hands up your back. He then puts you on all fours for better support as he deepened his thrusts entering your cervix. You feel yourself pulling away from him clawing at the bedding, he noticed and grabs your hair pulling your face close to his. “don’t run from me baby girl. Take it!” He growls in your ear as he grabs your waist and fucks you with your back to his chest. He rubs your clit with one hand and wraps the other around your small body. Sucking on your neck leaving marks everywhere his mouth could reach in the position. “I’m going to make sure I take care of this beautiful body of yours from now on~” he moans into your skin. Your legs shake and tension builds up in your stomach as your pussy throbs on him. “I-I can’t take I-it anymore Vulcan... oh no~” you cry out as you knew what was about to happen. “Yes you can baby” he moans as you throw your head back on his shoulder as scream as you squirt on the bed gripping his arms. He had never seen a woman do this so it just turned him on more. “Damn that’s so sexy~” he moans and after a few more stroke he releases inside you becoming a panting mess. He lays back and you fall with him, dick still throbbing inside. After a minute or so you turn around on him and rock your hips slowly back and forth with him still inside.

He grabs your hips tightly trying to get you to stop but you just keep moving and moaning on top of him. “Y-y/n what are you doing mmmmph~” he moans gritting his teeth. After gaining some control over his breathing he sits up and grabs your legs putting them around his waist and wraps his arms around you pulling you down hard on his dick repeatedly. You lean down and kiss him as you both become a moaning mess from the pleasure. “I’m l-losing my mind baby~!” you cry out as you clench down once more. “It’s okay baby girl just let go.. a-and cum on daddy~” he moans in your ear speeding up. Throwing your head on his shoulder you scratch up his back from how intense it was. Your moans become whimpers and sobs as your body is overstimulated. He pulls your head to force you to look at him as he wipes away your tears slowing his thrusts down. Youwas drowning in emotions you had never felt before. “I-I love you Vulcan~!” You sob to him still making eye contact. His eyes widen and he lays you on your back without removing himself from inside you. Placing a gentle kiss on your lips before throwing your legs on his shoulder and pounding into you. “I love you too princess~” he moans as your minds melt into bliss. “I- I’m gunna cum again~” he growls as his pace quickens. You dig your nails in the backs on his arms as your were close again as well. Your pussy clenches down on him as if it were life or death. “Aahhh god~” you yell letting the pleasure wash over you. Big daddy Vulcan wasn’t too far behind as he slams into you a few more time before unloading inside again. “S-so fucking... good~” he moans as he rides out his high. His movements come to a halt as he releases your legs and lays on your chest panting with you. Your eyes flutter realizing what just happened. “T-that really just happened...” you say panting. He weakly looks up at you “any regrets?” He asks with worry on his face. “Are you kidding me?! Hell no. I’ve waited years to have this with you” you say chuckling a bit. “Well then I don’t have any either” he replies leaning up and kissing you tenderly. “Your mine now” he says. “And your mine” you reply.

Great... now I have to do more with him🤧

[talkfastromance4]

Hii Hailey ✨ I’m so excited for your Halloween blurbs 🍂 could I ask for a 12 enemies to lovers smut with Ash, pleaseee 😍❤️

I’m so happy you’re excited! I hope you like this and thank you for sending in a request🥰

warnings: slight dom!ash, a sexy maids outfit and a brief voyeuristic experience.

12. “Oh, bite me.” “Don’t tempt me.”

@littledrummeraussie i’m tagging you because of a conversation we’ve had about werwolf ashton, i hope thats okay🥺👉🏻👈🏻

• • • •

Ever since you turned into a werewolf, the Alpha, Ashton has been nothing short of hostile towards you. He’s always calling you out when you’re late for pack dinners at his place then quips back with how bad whatever dish you brought. One wasn’t vegan enough, or one had too much sugar in it. 

He’d always have you run mundane errands for him like picking up his laundry from the cleaners or delivering a package back home to his family. One time he made you wash his precious car Frankie that you were oh so tempted to spit on rather than clean it. 

He always pinned you out of the rest. Not once did he ask any other pack member to do his chores for him. Because he was Alpha, you couldn’t put him in his place without facing consequences. 

Halloween is quickly approaching and you came home to a white box sitting perfectly on your bed. Ashton’s scent lingered in the room and with a huff you approach the box. On top of it is your name scratched in his scrawl on a folded piece of paper. Flipping it up you read what he wrote.

“For all the help you’ve done for me. Costume’s on me.”

Confused, you toss the note aside and lift the box tearing away the tissue. You set your jaw and a low growl emits from your chest as you stare at the black and white ruffled ensemble complete with a feather duster and little bonnet. 

He’d given you a damn maid’s outfit. 

Furious, you snatch the skimpy fabric in your fingers and stomp your way towards Ashton’s office which is adjacent to his bedroom. Without knocking, you barrel through the door and find him in a compromising position with some female. A female you’ve seen at other parties that belonged to another pack. 

Ignoring his bare ass and the female’s shocked expression, you glare at the smirk on his face.

“Found my gift then, yeah?” he asks tousling his hair. 

“What is your problem with me? Is this some kind of crude initiation that only I have to go through?” you snarl. You almost want to toss it in his face. 

“Just showing my gratitude.”

“Go to hell,” you sneer then spin on your heels. 

“Hey!” he barks, his Alpha voice booming through. You have no choice but to turn when he uses that tone. “You don’t speak to me like that, Omega.”

“I don’t care anymore,” you scoff, “Some pack family mentality you have in thinking you can single me out. I’m not your maid.”

You saw anger flash in his eyes at your defiance against him. No one speaks to an Alpha like how you are. Ever. 

“Ashton,” the female whines trying to turn his attention back on her. 

“Shush,” he commands and she squeaks into silence. “That outfit says otherwise. I expect to see you in that on Halloween.”

“Oh, bite me.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

With a final glare down, you spin out of his office and slam his door in your wake. As you stalk back to your room an idea springs in your mind. You lay the maids’ outfit on your bed noticing the length of the skirt would go just to your knees and the bell sleeves on the shoulders were a bit obnoxious. Smiling to yourself, you decide you will wear the outfit after making a few adjustments.

**

It’s Halloween night and you’re taking a last minute look at your outfit in the mirror. You shortened the skirt so that it just barely covered your ass cheeks which you had on a ruffled black pair of panties. You added more tulle so the skirt bounced while you walked and you pulled on some fish net stockings with tall black stilettos. You chopped off the bell sleeves so they would hang off your shoulder and you got a push up bra that accentuated your breasts. 

You finished the look off with red lipstick and fake blood smeared all over you. Some if it dripped perfectly between your breasts and you couldn’t wait to see Ashton’s face. As if he knew you were thinking of him, your phone buzzed in the tone you’ve set for him.

“We’re low on drinks.”

Rolling your eyes, you toss your phone to your bed then make your way downstairs. Green and purple lights flash across your skin as you descend the stairs. The party is loud and the people are enjoying themselves. 

You sniff the air for his scent and find him near the small bar along the wall. The female he was pleasuring in his room earlier in the week is hanging off him in a skimpy outfit but his eyes lock with yours. 

He’s in a simple suit with some blood smeared on him as well, was he a mobster? To bait him even more, you do a small twirl before strutting up next to him. You tell Michael your drink order, he’s the bartender for the evening, then tap your nails on the counter. 

“What the hell are you wearing?” he asks lowly in your ear. The timber in his voice makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up but not in an intimidating way. 

“The outfit you gifted me, isn’t it nice?” you smile up at him.

“That’s not the one I bought.”

“No, I made it better. You see, the blood here,” you point to your forehead, “and here,” you trail your finger down the drip into your cleavage. His eyes follow the movement slowly. “Is from the maid’s master of the house. She couldn’t take the abuse anymore and murdered him.”

Ashton growls and his female friend tugs on his arm. He holds up his hand to her face, palm up signaling her to stop her antics. You touch the blood that’s on his shirt.

“Are you the master I killed?” you ask then grab your drink and walk away before he can answer. 

You could feel his eyes on you for the rest of the night as you danced, took shots, and flirted with some of the males in attendance. When you start to feel a bit warm from the party and the alcohol, you head outside in the back and make your way to the other side of the pool near the pool house.

When your back is turned to the pool house, you’re suddenly lifted off your feet and dragged inside the through the door. You start to scream and snarl at the attacker but then you’re pressed against the wall with a firm hand over your mouth. 

As your eyes adjust to the darkness you’re staring into Ashton’s eyes. They’re filled with something you’ve never seen before, his cockiness is present but something else you’re unfamiliar with. 

“Do you have any idea how mad you’ve been making me in this outfit?” he mutters releasing his hand from your mouth. You exhale loudly. 

“That was the goal,” you smirk and he slams his hands on the wall on either side of your head. You laugh at how riled up he is then when you feel his hardened member against your fishnet covered thigh, you glance down. “This part doesn’t seem so mad.”

“Damn, you’ve got a lip on you all of a sudden,” he growls pressing himself against you. You moan at feeling his hot member on your leg and he smirks. “Seems like someone else is riled up. You’ve really been tempting me all night, do you know that?”

“No, how would I possibly tempt you when you have that female begging for you constantly?” 

“Because you’ve been tempting me ever since you turned. You really think I sent you on those errands because I hated you? Oh, no,” he tsks shaking his head. “I did that so I wouldn’t be distracted from leading the pack. And I gave you that outfit as a joke but then to see you in it like this?” His eyes take you in and he trails his finger down the fake blood drip in between your breasts. “It took all of me not to take you in the middle of the floor in front of everyone.”

“What?”

He chuckles darkly then leans forward, his lips just barely touching yours in a teasing way. His breath tickles your lips and you desperately want him to close the small space. His one hand is still pressed against the wall by your head while the other one travels down your waist, his touch is burning you through the fabric until he pushes apart your thighs. 

“I’m surprised you have anything on under here, little one,” he condescends then in one swift motion rips apart your ruffled panties. The pieces fall to the floor and you feel a slight chill then his hot finger presses against your center. “You smell so good right now...”

His middle finger slips between your folds and you jump at the contact, your hands grasping at his biceps. He laughs against your lips, his tongue teasing along the seam of your mouth. You open your mouth willingly but he pulls back slightly. 

“Oh no, you’re going to have to use your words, little one. Wanna hear you beg for me.” The tip of his finger presses against your hole and you let out a cry at the tease of entry. 

You mouth the word ‘please’ and he pulls back further, his finger stilling. 

“Oh no, no, no. I need to hear you,” he commands.

“Please,” you choke out tugging him closer by the collar of his shirt. “Please, touch me. Kiss me.”

You pull the same time he pushes and your lips are hot and fiery on his while his finger plunges inside you. He’s quick to add a second and you’re moaning in his mouth as his fingers twiddle against your spongy wall. 

“So wet,” he mutters moving his lips to your jaw, fingers still scissoring you. “You’re dripping down my fingers.”

You rock against his hand, rolling your hips and he latches his mouth to your breast. When you feel your orgasm approaching, Ashton moves his fingers faster, faster, and faster until--

You growl loudly when he removes his hands very quickly. 

“What the hell?” You hiss watching him slip his two fingers in his mouth. He hums, eyes closing.

“Such sweetness.”

You hear the zip of his pants and then he has your legs wrapped around his waist, the head of his dick nudges your entrance and his hand creeps up your neck. He gives your throat a slight squeeze, not enough for pain but enough to make you gasp quietly. 

“I want to feel you come around me, feel you drip down my cock and I don’t want you to be silent. Understand, little one?” 

You nod the best you can, he smiles. The same time he presses his lips to yours, he plunges into you and you let out a loud groan at being filled. He keeps you suspended in the air with one hand below your thigh and his other still on your throat but his fingers push your lips together so he can slip his tongue inside your mouth. 

He pounds into you at a quick speed, his hips snapping against yours as your back jolts against the pool house wall. Your moans become louder as he hits that sweet, sweet spot and his teeth close down on the skin of your neck. You scream his name, fingers pulling on his hair as he fucks your orgasm out of you. 

You’re whining in his ear and when another electric shock of pleasure courses through you, you bite on his ear. He growls against you from the slight pain and then you feel him spill inside you. You’re hot all over, burning from the inside out yet you need more of Ashton. How were you supposed to go back to the party now? 

As you both catch your breath, you’re clenching and unclenching around him and he groans. 

“Give me a few minutes and we’ll go again, little one. Stop clenching.”

“Sorry,” you whisper. 

He lifts his face from your neck then gazes at you in a different sort of way again. You’re seeing many different things in his eyes tonight but you want to explore more. 

“I had a feeling you’d listen well,” he smirks then pecks your lips and rubs his nose against yours. “Would you want to continue this upstairs in my room?” 

“How am I going to go upstairs when you ripped my underwear?”

“Run fast, sweetness,” he giggles and kisses you before you can retort. You melt into him once more.

Needless to say, you don’t head upstairs until two more rounds later and he offers you his suit jacket to cover up your bare lower half. 

“You’re my sweetness now, no one else can have a peek.”

• • • •

Taglist: @calpalirwin  @thecurlsofgod @myloverboyash @rotten-kandy @tea4sykes @jannimoeller3 @loveroflrh @iovehemmings @cxddlyash @princesslrh  @katiaw2 @g-l-pierce @fairyintheglass @gosh-im-short @banditocth @dezzym17 @koalacal @lukeisbaby @spicycal @mysticalhood @notinthesameguey @wastedheartcth @atlcalm @itjustkindahappenedreally @calumance @babylon-corgis @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @lanternlover2 @istaywithmyjonas @calteahood @sarcastically-defensive17 @another-lonely-heart @devilatmydoor @frontmanash @philthepegacorn @mantlereid @lukedorkyhemmings @addietagglikesbands @kikixfandoms @sanrioluke @mayve-hems @morguelth @haikucal @thatscooibaby @meghanrose05 @idontneedanyone @dinosaursandsocks @haveufoundwhaturlooking4 @suchalonelysunflower @burstintocolor @zhangyixingxing1 @dead-and-golden @mymindwide @everyscarisahealingplace @stardust-galaxies @blackbutterfliescal @redrattlers @lovelybonesetc @karajaynetoday @quasighost @i-like-5sos @creampiecashton @calpops

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 70 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Previously: Raja and Raven had a little office tryst, Violet planned for some overtime, and Courtney decided to take her work to Bianca’s for the night.

This Chapter: Bianca worries, Dahlia and Adore have a showdown, Gigi and Symone have a night in, and Team Baby has a night out.

***

Bianca had just finished laying out the takeout and was opening a bottle of wine when she heard the gentle click of Courtney’s footsteps down the hall.

“B?”

“I’m in the den!” Bianca called out, grinning when Courtney appeared in the doorway, an overstuffed banker’s box in her arms. Bianca eyed her up, appreciating her good little assistant ensemble, which she knew from the photos earlier concealed deeply naughty lingerie. “Hi, baby. Are you hungry? I got By Chloe.”

Courtney smiled, putting down the box and kicking off her heels. “You know, you don’t have to eat vegan food all the time just because of me.”

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Come here.” Bianca set down the full wine glasses, reaching her arms towards Courtney, who collapsed beside her on the sofa, clearly exhausted. Bianca pulled her close for a soft kiss, then wrapped her into an embrace. “Long day?”

“Mmhmm…” Courtney snuggled against her, nuzzling into her neck. After letting out a deep sigh, she mumbled, “I gotta get back to work.”

“You should eat first,” Bianca reasoned.

“Okay.” Courtney sighed again, making no move to escape her arms.

“Or we could just lie down for a bit.” Bianca ran a hand through her hair.

“No.” Courtney pulled back with a groan, rubbing her eyes. “If I do that, I’ll never finish.”

She slid to the ground, kneeling in front of the coffee table, and began unpacking the box. Labels, cards, envelopes, highlighters, a spreadsheet full of notes...It all looked like a huge pain in the ass to Bianca. Unlike most of her friends, Bianca actually had done this kind of tedious administrative work back when she was starting out, and just seeing it made her skin start to itch.

She turned her attention to the food, quietly making up a plate for Courtney and sliding it over to her.

“Thanks,” Courtney said gratefully, resting her head against Bianca’s knee. “You’re the best.”

“You deserve an actual dinner break,” Bianca said, trying to choose her words carefully so as not to overstep.

“Yeah, maybe, but I’m not gonna be able to relax until this stuff is done.”

“Fair enough,” Bianca said, attempting to feed her a piece of a zucchini fritter. She took it, playfully biting Bianca’s finger in the process. “She’s running you ragged, huh?”

“I guess. I don’t know, it might just be me. I’m not really keeping up with things the way I should,” Courtney explained. “Maybe it’s the weather. I don’t think I’m handling it very well.”

“Not ready for the New York winter?” Bianca asked, playing gently with her hair.

“No, guess not,” Courtney said. “I just...hear Christmas music and want to go to the beach.”

Bianca laughed, leaning forward to kiss her on the forehead. “Ah. Southern hemisphere problems?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Alright, well...I’ll do my best to keep you warm,” Bianca said, and Courtney giggled, fluttering her lashes up at her before going back to her work.

It made sense that the weather would get to her. Spending her whole childhood in Australia and then college in San Diego must have done little to prepare her for how cold and dreary New York got in the winter. She didn’t have the heart to tell her that she hadn’t even seen the worst of it--January was bound to be even colder. It gave her an idea, though, so while Courtney continued working, Bianca shot off a text to her travel agent.

Once she had the ball rolling with Victoria, she looked back at Courtney’s progress, chuckling to herself over the custom stamps--not only that, but they were clearly winter themed, the Galactica logo covered in glittering icicles.

“What are you laughing at?” Courtney asked, diligently checking each name off her spreadsheet as she went.

“The stamps. They’re so Fame.” Bianca picked one up, looking it over.

“Oh yeah. Cute, huh?” Courtney said, sticking down a label.

“Very. So...do I get a card this year?”

“Yeah, but you’re in a different category.”

“The shithouse category?” Bianca guessed.

“No. You’re getting a gift.” Courtney turned to grin at her. “So I can deal with you on Monday.”

“Do you have the card?” Bianca asked, now curious. If she was still getting a gift, then maybe Fame wasn’t as angry as she seemed on Tuesday.

“Yeah, hang on.” Courtney combed carefully through one of the stacks, pulling out Bianca’s card.

A post-it was affixed to the front that said ‘Cristal.’ Not too bad. Bianca actually felt a bit optimistic until she opened the card. There was the typical printed message. At the top, in Fame’s loopy cursive, she’d written, ‘Bianca,’ which was bad enough--no ‘dear’ or ‘darling’ as usual. But worse, the bottom, which simply read ‘Regards, Fame.’

Oof.

A slightly sick feeling curled in Bianca’s stomach, that she tried to ignore by joking, “Well, at least she didn’t write ‘fuck you.’”

“You left her dinner party before they served dinner. You knew she’d be mad, right?” Courtney said.

“I know, I know…” Bianca set the card back on the table, watching as Courtney put it back into the right stack, then continued carefully peeling labels off the sheet and sticking them on the envelopes.

“I’m sorry, though. I feel a little responsible.”

“That’s true, this is all your fault. For being too damn irresistible.”

Courtney laughed as Bianca settled back against the sofa cushions, when suddenly, a thought flashed through her head.

“So uh, just out of curiosity, what does Anna Wintour’s card say?”

“I can’t tell you that,” Courtney giggled.

“Come on…”

“No! That’s a federal offense!”

“I’ll risk the jail time. Please?” Bianca wheedled, reaching out towards the box. “She’s my competition, I have to know!”

“No!” Courtney slapped her hand away.

“Not sure why you’re being so protective of Anna Wintour,” Bianca grumbled.

“Well, I’m seeing her on the side,” Courtney quipped, then tossed a gleeful look back at Bianca, adding, “What can I say? I like older women.”

“Very funny.” Bianca pretended to be annoyed, but couldn’t help be charmed at how proud Courtney looked of herself in that moment.

“Awww, B…” Courtney climbed up onto the sofa, straddling her. “You know I love you. And only you.”

“Yeah?” Bianca found it impossible to keep pretending to pout with Courtney so close, so soft, smelling so good. Her dimples deepened, against her will, as Courtney kissed along her jaw to her neck.

“Yeah…” Courtney started to suck gently on her pulse point as Bianca’s fingers traveled up her thighs, disappearing under her skirt.

“Hmm, if you say so…”

“B, we really can’t,” Courtney began breathlessly, “I have to keep working, or-”

“Or what?” Bianca growled, voice low, the telltale shiver making her even bolder, fingers edging along the lace of her panties, the ones that had kept Bianca drooling over her photos all afternoon.

“Or I...” Courtney’s own fingers dug into Bianca’s shoulders, whimpering, “Oh, Anna.”

“Get offa me!” Bianca barked, shoving her playfully as she laughed and laughed. “Finish your damn cards.”

***

“What are you doing here?” Dahlia asked, irritated. She had just arrived at the warehouse for their band’s gig, her bass strapped to her back, and before she’d even spotted Adore, Aja or Alex, she’d seen Pearl, holding court by the bar with a couple of hangers-on, a heavy camera against her hip.

“Working,” Pearl said, gesturing to the camera that was slung over her shoulder. “Gotta stay up to date with the trends.”

Dahlia put her hands on her hips, unable to buy that she was there by accident. “Oh yeah, you just randomly decided to come here tonight, where we’d randomly be performing?”

“Pretty awesome coincidence, huh?” Pearl asked, a sparkle in her blue eyes that Dahlia would probably have found charming if she wasn't so pissed. “Someone upstairs must really love me.”

“Come on. This isn’t cool. The club is one thing, but this is my real life.”

“Not everything is about you, Dahlia,” Pearl said, rolling her eyes, and Dahlia found herself getting even angrier.

Why couldn’t Pearl just keep whatever stupid thing was going on between them in a box, like she could?

Of course she was sexy, and fun, and in another lifetime, Dahlia might even have let herself fall for her--but the reality of the situation was that she didn’t have that luxury, and seeing her here only confused things.

“How do you think Adore will feel if she sees you?” Dahlia asked, trying not to get distracted by her tongue playing coyly with the straw.

“I don’t know, but where do you think we met in the first place? At a party just like this one. We’re gonna run into each other, it’s a small town.”

“Actually, it’s not a small town, it’s a big ass city. But you are a huge dick,” Dahlia said, flouncing away. The fucking nerve of her.

Of course, as expected, the first thing Adore asked when she finally reached the group was, “What were you doing talking to Pearl?”

Ugh. This was gonna be a bitch to explain.

“Well, she’s sort of been...coming to the club. While I’m working.”

“Like…” the wheels turned in Adore’s head, finally guessing, “Like to hit on you?”

“I guess, in a way, but not exactly. She’s just like, a client. Who unfortunately knows my real name, so…” Dahlia shrugged. “It’s good money, you know?”

“That’s…” Adore seemed to be searching for the right words, her brow furrowed, her lips turned down in a frown. “That’s fucked, Dahlia. She’s my ex.”

“It’s my job, Adore.” Dahlia could find herself getting impatient. This wasn’t something she expected Adore to understand. Adore didn’t even have to work. Her sister gave her money to fuck around and focus all her time and energy on her music. But still, it should be obvious that Dahlia’s life wasn’t charmed like Adore’s; she worked her ass off, literally. “And she may suck, but she’s a hell of a lot better than the disgusting, mouth-breathing dudes I usually have to strip for!”

“So,” Adore stepped closer, crossing her arms. “Not only are you stripping for my ex-girlfriend, and doing god knows what else-”

“Watch it, bitch-”

“But you’re like, enjoying it?” Adore demanded, and Dahlia very much did not appreciate her tone.

“I didn’t say that! She’s just like, not hideous, and usually-” Dahlia stopped. “You know what, fuck this, I don’t have to explain myself to you, you privileged fuck!”

“Are you fucking-”

“Guys, guys, guys, what the hell is going on?” Alex cut in far too late to actually stop the runaway train. “Can you both chill, we have to play a set in like 20 minutes.”

“Yeah guys, chill,” Aja added halfheartedly, though from the look on their face, they seemed to be enjoying the show, watching with one eyebrow raised while sipping a beer.

“I’m not playing with her!” Adore exclaimed, stomping her foot like the spoiled baby she was. “She’s a fucking traitor, and a slut, and-”

“Go fuck yourself!” Dahlia shouted back, turning and storming off for the second time that night, through the crowd, all the way back to Pearl, who was chatting casually with some girl, completely oblivious to the shitstorm that she’d created.

Pearl looked up at Dahlia, at her heaving chest and flushed cheeks, and smiled. “Hi, cupcake. Back for more banter?”

“Shut up!” Dahlia said, stepping forward. “Just shut up.”

“Okay, baby.” Pearl’s eyes drifted from Dahlia’s eyes down to her lips, and then back up. They were standing close now, and Dahlia knew that Pearl could feel her pounding heartbeat. She tangled her hands into Pearl’s perfectly tousled blonde hair, grabbing fistsfuls of it as she pressed their lips together.

Pearl immediately responded--either she didn’t know that Dahlia was mostly doing this to make a point to Adore, or she didn’t care, kissing her back with passion, hands gripping her waist. When they broke apart, panting, Dahlia asked, “Wanna get out of here?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Pearl responded, with a grin that said she very much thought Dahlia would ask. Dahlia rolled her eyes, anxious to wipe that stupid smirk right off her face.

“I told you to shut up. Come on, you’re paying for the cab.”

She grabbed Pearl’s wrist, pulling her from the crowded warehouse without so much as a glance back at Adore or her pathetic face.

***

Hearing Dahlia gasp and moan was so satisfying, Pearl thought she might come just from listening to it. Her face was buried in her pussy, savoring the taste of her, tongue not resting until her hips finally stilled and whimpers began to sound from Pearl licking her clit in its oversensitive state. Pearl pressed one more kiss to her lower belly before sitting up, gazing at her sprawled on the bed.

She was as sinfully sexy as ever--even sweaty and disheveled, her hair and makeup were still a dream, long lashes fluttering on her cheeks, dark curls spread out around her head. Her bra was half on, tits pulled out of the cups, nipples pert and erect. Pearl lay down next to her, propped up on her elbow, trailing a hand over her heated skin.

“How’re you feeling, cupcake?”

“No complaints,” Dahlia panted out, her perfect tits rising and falling rapidly.

“Oh no? That’s good.” Pearl grinned.

“How ‘bout you? Was it everything you imagined?” Dahlia asked, and Pearl couldn’t help but chuckle at her dry tone.

“And more…” Pearl leaned forward, kissing her cheek once more before before heaving herself up. She searched the dimly lit room for her clothes, wondering how and when her left shoe got flung so far away from the bed.

When she was fully dressed, she turned back to Dahlia, who had caught her breath and was now sitting up, watching her with those dark, cat-like eyes. She saw by Dahlia’s slightly puzzled expression that she was perhaps expecting her to stay longer, and couldn’t help but feel like that was a win.

“So...I guess I’ll see you at the club?” Pearl said, eyes sweeping over her body once more, trying to memorize every inch of her in that delectable state. “No extra funny business, but you know I love wing night.”

“Sure,” Dahlia rolled her eyes. “Or…” she bit her lip, looking Pearl square in the eye, fearless and fierce. “If you want, you could have my number.”

Victory at last.

Pearl grinned, feeling like the cat that ate the canary. “Sounds great, doll.”

***

“What about this one?” Violet looked over at Max, who was holding up a beige suit jacket with peonies in shades of pink.

“Maybe…” Violet bit her lip, but she knew it wasn’t what she was looking for. “No. Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Max smiled, putting the jacket back on the rack, the coffee Violet had bought for him in his other hand. “We’ll find something.”

They were in the Gucci store, Max kind enough to tag along with her when she had texted and asked if he had time to help her out, getting around Manhattan on crutches by herself an absolute nightmare.

When they had arrived, the store clerk had given both of them a disdainful, and Violet was pretty sure that he would have kicked them out if it wasn’t for her Dior purse and how cearly expensive Max’s shoes where, the sharp taste of shame in her mouth when she had nearly stumbled on the store steps because of the snow.

“I know I’m being difficult,” Violet looked around. “I just need…”

Violet hadn’t really planned on getting Sutan anything more than socks, no matter what Raven had suggested, a novelty pair with croissants on them hidden on the bottom of her underwear drawer, but when she had gotten home yesterday, she had seen a regular mountain of designer boxes and bags all stacked high on Sutan’s designated dumping spot in the kitchen.

She knew it probably didn’t matter to him, that Sutan would love the socks, her gift to his mother and Raja and Raven much more extravagant, but she refused to accept anything designer and give socks in return. It wasn’t a smart financial decision, actually, it was bordering on downright idiotic, but she had spent so little on food staying at Sutan’s that she could almost work it in.

“Let’s go look at the sweaters.”

***

“Okay, so, I’m not trying to be ungrateful, but whoever said that this,” Symone shook the big red bowl of popcorn she had in her lap, “tastes like regular old popcorn, is a liar.”

“Come on.” Gigi smiled. “It’s not that bad.”

She and Symone were sitting on the living room couch, The Muppet Christmas Carol playing on the TV, the modeling apartment completely empty except for the two of them.

Everyone else had already gone home for Christmas, Gigi’s flight leaving the next morning, while Symone had said with a laugh that she was delaying going home for as long as she could since this was the first time she didn’t have to answer to her mama.

“Popcorn needs butter.” Symone huffed, but she still took another handful. The skinny pop they were eating had been left by Naomi who had gone home to Los Angeles last week. “I don’t care if I’m a model now.”

“Ooooh,” Gigi giggled, Symone so cool and carefree. “Look at the rebel.”

“What can I say,” Symone smirked, throwing her hair over her shoulder.  “It’s hard being perfect.”

Gigi had tried not to be disappointed when Symone shared that she had been selected by Galactica for their February show, her own booking noticeably absent. Sutan hadn’t seemed to sweat it, her manager not treating her any differently, his faith in her clearly still there since her January was filled with go sees, but it had been a bitter pill to swallow.

“Hey,” Gigi felt an elbow push against her side, and she looked up to see Symone’s brown eyes resting on her face. “Don’t look like that.”

“Look like what?”

“Like you’re not amazing.”

“You think I’m amazing?”

“Of course!” Symone grinned and Gigi could feel warmth wash over her body, her fingertips tingling, her stomach fluttering with butterflies.

***

Jinkx tapped Bianca on the shoulder, fixing her face with a puzzled expression as she turned around, glass of champagne in hand, strangers’ chatter barely audible over the Christmas music. The party was perfectly fine, if boring, one of those mandatory events to attend every year, making nice with all the big shots if you wanted them to keep donating to your charity foundations--which Jinkx definitely did.

“Hi...I’m sorry to bother you ma’am, but you look terribly familiar…” JInkx tilted her head, a wicked grin on her red lips. “Have we met before? It’s been so long, I hardly remember-”

“Shut up, cunt,” Bianca laughed, sweeping her into a hug and holding her tight. “How are you?”

“Well, so much has happened since the last time we saw each other…” Jinkx swept her red hair over her shoulder, her dress for the evening a stunning green number with sequins. “I’ve had 7 marriages and 12 kids-”

“Alright, alright…” Bianca cut her off, rolling her eyes even though she was smiling. “I’m sorry.” She put her glass down on a nearby table, turning her back to the party so she could focus entirely on Jinkx. “I’ve been busy.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Jinkx grinned mischievously, quirking an eyebrow. “Young love, huh?” Jinkx didn’t keep up with the press like she used to, but it had been impossible to miss Bianca splashed all over Manhattan's premiere gossip blog sucking face.

“Something like that,” Bianca grinned back.

Jinkx shook her head in amazement. She’d known Bianca for 20 years, and seeing her driven to distraction by romance was completely out of character, making Jinkx certain that whoever this girl was, she must be something truly special.

“So, did you bring her tonight? I’m dying to meet her,” Jinkx said, linking her arm through Bianca’s.

“And subject her to one of Ted’s rambling speeches? No thanks.”

“Aww, well, that’s a shame.” Jinkx took a sip of her cranberry spritzer, waiting a beat before asking, “So...what does the crew think? Are they playing nice?”

Bianca cut her eyes at Jinkx, asking, “Do they ever?”

“Well...I might not be the best judge of that...but no.” It still stung a little, the way Jinkx’ friendships with that entire group had fallen apart years ago, after her disastrous failed engagement with Sutan and subsequent downward spiral, the last few months nothing but hazy, indistinct memories--she was probably lucky that she didn’t remember most of it.

Only Bianca had kept in touch with her through all the worst times. Not that she blamed the others; she’d been a full mess, and anyone in their right mind would have walked away.

She was just lucky that Bianca happened to be crazy enough to stick around.

“Juju’s been okay,” Bianca offered, sighing a little. “She called me the other day and apologized. Even though I know she disapproves. In some ways, it’s worse than Raja and the rest of them, you know? When the nice one disapproves? But at least she’s trying.”

“I get that.” Jinkx had seen Juju a few times in recent years, and she’d been warm and sweet, and if Jinkx was braver, she’d have attempted to strike up a relationship again, now that she had years of sobriety under her belt. But somehow, the idea of rejection from the person who’d always been the voice of reason was exponentially scarier than more cold shoulder from Fame or Raja, or Sutan’s cowardly avoidance.

“I know you do. What about you, how are rehearsals going?”

“Oh, things are really heating up. I think...it could be a really good show,” she said, hope blooming on her face. “I can’t wait for you to see it.”

“I can’t wait either, red. I’m real fucking proud of you.” Bianca pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Are you gonna be around for Christmas? I’m putting together a little brunch. Nothing fancy, just the usual group of Jews and orphans.”

Bianca laughed. “Not this year. I decided to whisk Courtney away for a little trip while her office is closed down.”

“Well, that’s predictably extra of you,” Jinkx giggled. “You’ll be back for New Year’s though, right?”

“Of course, wouldn’t miss it!”

***

“Triiiiiiiin!” Adore screeched, racing up to Trinity and throwing her arms around her, hugging her tightly.

Adore very much needed this night out with her girls after last night’s humiliating debacle with Dahlia. The fucking traitorous cunt. Trinity, who was another one of Courtney’s sorority sisters (and low-key maybe Adore’s favorite of that whole group) visiting from Atlanta was the perfect excuse. Being around people who she knew had her back would do a lot to soothe her frayed nerves and bruised ego, the band barely getting through their gig, the angry tears that coursed down her cheeks during their last number fortunately in line with the lyrics.

“Hey girl, how are you?” Trinity asked.

“Right now I’m fucking perfect,” Adore murmured, face buried in her long dark hair.

“Don’t fucking hog her, Adore!” Morgan said, elbowing her in the side.

Trinity took Adore’s face in her hands and looked into her eyes, for the moment ignoring Morgan and Tyra jostling for her attention.

“You alright?” Trinity asked softly, and Adore knew that she was seconds away from tearing up like a big old baby. So she just nodded, and let Trinity fold her into another warm hug

“Hey, there’s a table free!” Tyra exclaimed, quickly dragging Morgan and Tati over, Trinity and Adore trailing behind. “Morgan, you get the first round.”

“I always get the first round,” Morgan protested.

“Omigod, whatever, I’ll get it, you petty bitch.” Tyra rolled her eyes and flounced over to the bar.

Adore wasn’t paying much attention to their bickering, just happy to have Trinity’s arm around her shoulders.

“So, how’s the new job going?” Adore asked her, eyes hopeful as she asked, “Still considering moving here? Pretty please?”

Trinity giggled, tossing her hair. “It’s a possibility. It depends how this whole CMA thing goes.”

“You’ll do great, you’re smart.” Adore waved her hand. “The real question is, what neighborhood do you want to move into? I vote for downtown and not some outer borough garbage like Courtney.”

“Speaking of, where is-”

“Trinity!” Courtney squealed, pushing her way through the crowd and running over to their table, flinging herself into Trinity’s arms.

“Hi baby! You look great, spin around for me.”

“You think?” Courtney beamed, spinning happily to show off the clothes that Adore was certain Bianca had either bought for her or lent from her massive closet. In fact, her jacket looked very familiar. And her earrings. And her boots. Jesus Christ.

“Who wants tequila?!” Tyra exclaimed, setting a bunch of shot glasses down on the table.

“Everyone but Courtney,” Adore laughed, taking a lime and a glass.

“I’ll take one!” Courtney countered, still grinning from ear to ear, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. “What the hell, right?”

“Wow, what’s gotten you so happy?” Trinity asked. “Last time we talked, you were super stressed and up to your ass in work.”

“Oh, I still am,�� Courtney giggled. “But it’s Saturday, so...cheers, mates!”

She and Trinity clinked glasses and then downed their shots.

“Seriously though...what’s up?” Trinity asked. “Did your dad send you some magical new multivitamin?”

“Man, are you out of the loop,” Morgan said, shaking her head.

“What?”

“She’s getting laid,” Tati explained, and Courtney laughed, coyly fluttering her lashes.

“Ohh, okay. Who’s the lucky douchebag?” Trinity asked, clearly assuming that Courtney was continuing her pattern of dating horrible men and then discarding them quickly.

“My sister,” Adore said pointedly, tossing back her own shot and then biting down on the lime.

Trinity turned back to Courtney, eyes huge, mouth open. “Whoaaaa…”

“Yeah, she’s not even like, a little gay like Tati,” Tyra teased. “She’s gone full lez overnight.”

Courtney laughed again, simpering and giggling, looking happier than Adore had ever seen her--like the world was hers for the taking. She groaned internally, wondering if maybe Jujubee had been right about Bianca giving Courtney way too much hope.

The last thing she needed was to have her heart broken and her dreams crushed, and if it was by Adore’s sister, then she’d feel somewhat responsible.

Shit.

“So like...whoa,” Trinity said again, still in a bit of shock, but clearly amused.

“I’ll get the next round!” Courtney then exclaimed, and began to skip over to the bar.

“Wait up, Court!” Adore called, following her.

Courtney bounced happily up to the bar, quickly getting the bartender’s attention and ordering six Cosmos. Right after tequila shots. Tonight was shaping up to be quite a mess, Adore realized, but shrugged, figuring that getting wild before they all went home for the holidays wouldn’t be the worst thing.

While the bartender began making their drinks, Adore linked her arm through Courtney’s.

“So...uh...how are things going with B, anyway? And feel free to refrain from getting too graphic.”

“I’ll do my best,” Courtney giggled, turning towards Adore with sparkling eyes. “It’s going...so fucking good, Dore. I’ve never met anyone like her, she’s incredible...”

“That’s good,” Adore said. “I’m glad you’re having a good time.”

“It’s more than that,” Courtney said. “It’s like...I always thought I was a pretty happy person, but then she came along and it’s just made everything so much brighter and more wonderful than I ever thought possible. Like I’m seeing colors I never knew existed, you know?”

Shiiiit.

“Okay well...yeah, cool.”

“What’s wrong? I thought you were good with it, did-”

“I am! I’m totally good with it,” Adore said quickly, nodding and forcing a smile. “And I’m really happy for you.”

“But?” Courtney eyes, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Well, it’s just, it’s Bianca. She just sometimes tends to, um…” Adore bit her lip. How the fuck was she supposed to do this? This was her sister, her favorite person in the world, and even though it might be true, talking shit about her in any way except a joke felt wrong. “She’s just not much of a relationship person. You know?”

“Hmm. Yeah, I know.” Courtney paused slightly, thinking, and Adore wished she knew what was going through her head.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” Adore continued. “I would feel so shitty, like it was my fault, if she...you know. Did her usual thing with you. Especially if she was giving you the wrong idea, letting you think it’s more serious than...than she can handle.”

“That’s fair,” Courtney said, taking in Adore’s words with such nonchalance that Adore had to wonder if she was even listening.

“She just tends to, like...move on quickly, before things get too real. I think it’s some kind of defense thing, probably because of our-” Adore stopped, realizing she was about to majorly overstep. That tequila shot must have hit her harder than she thought. “I dunno. She just doesn’t really like anything serious. And I know y’all are about to spend Christmas together, and it’s Bianca so she’s gonna buy you a billion presents, and I just don’t want you to think it means...you know...”

“Well…” Courtney pressed her lips together, handing her credit card over to the bartender before busting out a smug, “She told me she loved me.”

“She what?!” Adore’s mouth dropped open in surprise. Love? That was new. That was major.

“Mmhmm…” Courtney took one of the cocktails into her hands, sipping it daintily.

Well. It appeared that her sister’s nearest and dearest friends were dead fucking wrong. It also explained why Courtney looked self-satisfied as fuck, instead of defensive or annoyed. And as for Adore, what she felt mostly was relief, and joy, and a tiny bit of guilt for being talked out of giving Bianca the benefit of the doubt.

“Well, shit. Okay, you know what? I take back everything I said. You’re in uncharted territory.” She picked up one of the drinks and held it out. “Cheers, bitch.”

“Cheers,” Courtney giggled, taking another sip. She took her card back from the bartender and began collecting the drinks. Adore helped, taking three of them into her own hands.

“So, can I be the flower girl at your wedding?” she asked, heading back over to their table.

Courtney laughed gaily, bumping Adore with her hip, showing her that there were no hard feelings at all.

***

[aggresivelyfriendly]

Tis the Damn Season

Chapter Five- Santa Baby

Hello, I took a couple weeks, because life can be busy, and mine is changing, but here is a little 🎁!

Thanks to @dirtystyles, she’s the real gift!

"What are you wearing?"

"I'm sorry, but what?"

 It was all she could think to say. Emma hadn't heard from Harry in months. In August he had sent her a random picture of him in a collar with long hair. She knew he had chopped his hair months ago, it had caused an internet flurry and was one of the few times he'd emerged from hibernation. She might be miffed that his year-off apparently didn't include visiting her. Not that she had asked him to.

She'd never ask.

Emma might also be incredibly miffed that he had cut off his glorious hair. She'd rocked herself to sleep many a night thinking of the way it felt trailing ver her chest, then stomach, in the crevice of her thigh. The crunch and silk of it between her fingers when she got it between her fingers at the end of that path or when he was rocking her to sleep.

Thinking about his hair usually made her hot for him, and thinking of it gone made her nostalgic, and a little mad. And that was when the memory was fresh and jot months old.

In any case, she wasn't feeling very soft for him, and that was a sexy question. She definitely wasn't feeling wet for him.

She had just walked out of class on a freezing cold day before she was ready for it to be this chilly, and she had to ride her bike. Her class was on individual contribution to global crises. Emma was the first to point out that individuals were not the true climate change culprits, but every bit helped. She just wished she'd ridden one of the clean energy buses today. Today sucked.

"Your teeth are chattering Emma, you outside?" she made an affirmative sound and he wisely knew better than to wait for an answer after that. He'd set up this mood, after all. "Sorry, came out wrong, it was meant to be funny." Harry had an apology in his voice. It was like the first knead of a dough, but he had a long way to go. "Anyway, what I meant is, I'm Christmas shopping, and I was thinking about what you might like, was gonna get you a jumper, and I think I have an idea of your style, but wanted a little guidance, I'd hate to buy you something and have you hate it—"

"Harry, take a breath!" She could feel that smile he had a way of bringing to her lips, despite herself. She really wanted to be upset with him, but seemed he'd proved himself, or distracted her at least.

Emma can't quite get a full grasp on why she's irritated with the phone call with him.  She's not sure what she expected. They never had a conversation about it, about how they are just a little holiday fling. She's never even had a summer fling, so she doesn't know the rules but she assumes that they are not supposed to repeat year on year. Least not without some progress or a defining conversation where they decided on not a relationship. He was confusing. He'd been so happy to have a bit of extra time with her, she'd thought he might be in touch more, with his seemingly abundant free time. She's wanted him to be in touch more. But he hadn't.

She'd heard from him less than ever.

And now he was buying her gifts and making her smile. Damn him.

"I'm breathing, promise." He sighed. "I just could tell I'd pissed you off, and I don't want to. I've been thinking about Christmas, and well, I'm excited."

"I'm excited too. Holidays are exciting." Emma is not going to read into that. He's excited to be with his family. He's Christmas shopping for everyone. This is not about her, them.

There is no them.

There is no them, except between Christmas Eve and New Years. And that is purely physical.

These are the things she repeated to herself when she was sad, waiting for him to call or text. Sad from how he dragged himself from their pub bed saying he'd miss her and be in touch and then wasn't. His sweet nothings were like when people signed your yearbook K.I.T. She knew you weren't supposed to take those yearbook signings seriously, but he'd said it, not written it below some picture of him. That counted more, right? Than a picture? Those were cheap, especially of him; there were pictures of him everywhere, Emma was also upset that none of them looked like the real life him. Just a shade of his actual beauty.

She wanted to see him now. She missed him though she shouldn't.

Just over a month now until Christmas. And a busy one at that. She had so much data to sift through from the summer and a presentation she was basing on it was her culminating project. It would also make an early start on her field work come summer. Those things, academic, important things were her focused her life's work. Not delicious Harry Styles and his sweet holiday nothings.

"Yes, especially when I get my favorite for Christmas." Harry said bringing her back to the call they were on.

The meaning behind those words were a bit harder to ignore. All she could get out was "Oh?" Then she rolled her eyes at herself and cleared her throat and said, "Your mum's Christmas cake?"

He chuckled. "I am fond of that cake, I think I put on two stone last year from how much I ate. And she sent me home with one!"

Emma almost called bullshit on that. He'd expended all those calories, she'd been the apparatus.

She took a breath to speak, and he cut her off. "I don't mean the cake, anyway, I mean you: you're my favorite thing to have at Christmas. The best gift."

What was she supposed to say to that? Another eloquent oh? Instead she said, "Your favorite thing?" Playful offense on the word thing.

"Oh hush." He laughed. "You're my favorite, Emma. In case you want to be obtuse and miss my point. I'm very excited to see you."

She breathed in. All she could manage to reply with was "Me too."

She meant it, but as they got off the phone after setting up their usual tryst and a special meeting before the party to exchange gifts, she couldn't help but wonder if he did. If what he said was true, why the radio silence?

The gift on her lap on the train was large and ostentatious. She didn't have a ton of money for the it, student life, but her recipient was a millionaire, so she'd gone all out on the wrapping paper.

It was a frog in a Christmas hat, the motif on the paper. Emma remembered when she and Gemma had called Harry "frog boy" and he'd been mortified. But it had also found its way into their private rooms. Not when he was inside her, that would be weird, but when he looked up at her and grinned, all dimples and no teeth from where he likes to make her stomach a pillow.

How "Froggy" had become a term of endearment, she didn't know. The moment she'd seen the cute froggy in his holiday rig on the overpriced paper, she had stopped what she was doing, parked her bike with no lock, and popped in the shop.

She then had to find something to put in the paper. He'd been shopping for her this year, in October, and he'd said he was at the shop and she'd seen pictures of him hauling bags out of Gucci. That was not intimidating at all.

They had exchanged small things in years past. Harry had started it, he'd given a cookbook a friend recommended the year she went vegan. Then the next year he'd donated in her name to a clean air initiative. She'd just picked up odds and ends she thought he'd like, like a 100% recycled journal one year and a glass bottle set for his gym runs the next.

This year, she'd racked her brain, but she'd eventually found the perfect gift to fill her frog paper. She was getting better at this. He was entirely too good at it, and he was a quick learner. She'd been underwhelmed with the flowers he sent the first year and had explained that cut flowers made her sad. It seemed a waste to kill something for its fleeting beauty. Harry had nodded thoughtfully.

The next flower he sent was a gorgeous orchid, it arrived once she was back in Amsterdam and came with instructions. That first orchid had started a trend and between his gifts and her own new interest, her flat was looking very jungle esque.

Emma was always very excited to see him, but this year, after his call, there was more anticipation and preparation. If he was going to be ready for her, she would be ready for him.

She got a fresh haircut and trimmed her bush. The thrift store was kind to her, and her new Christmas jumper was perhaps less ugly than flattering, but that was ok with her. She particularly liked the way it lay over the skirt she'd planned to wear to the Twist's annual todo.

Her flights had been uneventful and her mother was elated and doting. Emma found it much more tolerable this year. Maybe she was just in the spirit, or maybe she'd been away from the village and her family long enough to actually miss them.

She definitely missed Harry.

He, predictably, had texted that his flight was delayed and he was trying to make arrangements, but he might not even make it in time for the party.

"I'm doing everything in my power to get there tonight. If I can't make my mother's party, but arrive tonight, can we meet? I'll call the inn."

"Yes." Was all she texted back. She found she was mourning their kiss beneath the mistletoe, and that he might miss her outfit. But Harry's power was considerable, and she had no doubt he would be at the Boar's Head in time to see what she planned to wear under the sweater.

Those pieces, she felt a twinge guilty about. They were pricey and definitely not second hand. Used pants were where she drew the line.

People, not Emma, bemoaned Harry's absence when those who still lived local or were able to travel home gathered for toast. Emma knew she wasn't the only one who came home partially to see Harry. It was why she was able to fly under Gem's radar, hopefully.

Gemma's only comment was, "He'll be here when he can." When Eloise asked where Harry was. She asked every year, it annoyed Gem, and took some of the heat off Emma. Eloise was so obvious, Gemma could direct some of her protective big sister vibes that way.

The night was winding down and Emma's third glass of champagne could use topping up. She'd just sidled into the kitchen to pop another bottle when a pair of arms came around her from behind.

She'd have dropped the bottle too if Harry had not pulled the most uncharacteristicly smooth and agile catch he'd ever made, whilst dipping her for a swoon worthy kiss.

"Harry!" Emma gasped, "What are you doing?" Her Hand went to find his hair, and she was sad to find it until she found his sharp, bare jaw instead. It cut through her nostalgia and she was able to appreciate his face on a new way. His lips.

"Getting my midnight kiss!"

"It's not New Year's." It was better, like new year's and her birthday combined, that kiss.

"Not yet!" He righted her but stayed wrapped around her while she popped the bottle. She poured him a glass too and had to refrain from holding his hand when she pulled him into the living room after they toasted.

He stole a kiss before they went to join the others.

It looked like his arrival was going to renew the party spirit, but he begged off as tired, and disappeared to his room by 1:30.

Emma wasn't sure what to do, or where to go, so she just slipped out the back at 2:00 when a car nearly gave her heart palpitations by pulling up right in front of her. The door popped open and Harry stuck his head out. "Cmon, it's our getaway car!"

She couldn't help but shake her head. "You disappeared and I didn't know what you wanted to do."

"Well, you obviously!" He giggled, high off the champagne and his conniving. "C'mon! We don't have that long. I wanna do Christmas morning with you!"

"It's still nighttime." Emma pointed out.

"Don't worry, we'll find something to do until the sun comes up." He looked up at her through his lashes and she couldn't help but bite her lips.

"What's the rush, Styles?" Emma asked as she climbed into the car. The driver seemed unconcerned and headed down the familiar lanes of a familiar place.

"No rush, I'm just excited and have to be back so I can sneak in for Christmas brunch."

"Oh." She knew that, it wasn't the first time.

"Not 'oh,' I want to give you your gifts on actual Christmas."

"Are you Santa Claus?" She teased as he pulled her into his chest.

"If that's what you're into? I'll be whoever you want me to be."

"Then just be you." She said with painful earnestness before she could stop herself.

Harry looked down at her in the cradle of his armpit and put his forehead to hers and gave her an Eskimo kiss. "As long as you're you."

Emma melted and if she hadn't been so tired and a little too drunk on bubbly she wouldn't have fallen asleep on the way to the Boar's Head.

"Baby," Harry whispered into her hair. "Wake up, we're here."

"I can't believe I fell asleep that fast."

"It's my voice, I've been told it has a sedative power."

"Sleepy is not usually how your voice makes me feel." What truth serum had she taken tonight?

"Well, I'll have to talk a lot to keep you up then. Hope you're refreshed after your little nap."

She was, and he kept her up but by 5:00, even his deep voice and other powers of persuasion couldn't keep her leaden lids open.

"Baby! Emma." Harry was kissing her awake and holding out a shirt for her slip on while slipping socks up her calves. "Present time."

"Ok, Santa baby." She yawned and let him drag her into the room where she had completely missed the tiny Charlie Brown tree in the corner. "Oh! You went all out." She looked at him in awe when she noticed the multicolored packages under the tree. "I only got you one thing," she was rubbing sleep out of her eyes and too tired to bullshit. "I'm feeling inadequate."

"Nah, I've heard it's better to give than receive."

"That's not what you said a couple hours ago."

"I'll give gifts if you give head." They both scrunched their brows. "Scratch the part where I made it sound like you were my sugar baby."

"Or a prostitute."She raised an arch brow.

"Nah, I couldn't afford you." He didn't even smirk.

So she responded, "I think you think that's a compliment."

He snort laughed and she couldn't help but smile with him. "I mean, you do it well enough to be paid for it, but by the face you're making I better quit talking and get to the spoiling to get myself out of trouble. Go on, open a present."

"Any order you envisioned."

"Um? No, the one where order matters I have a plan for."

"This isn't all?"

"This is most." He nodded and she felt a warm place under her breast that only ignited when he was being domestic.

Back in her old room in her childhood home, or in her flat in Amsterdam, she'd occasionally puzzle over these moments. They felt nothing short of boyfriendy, and she loved it. When she thought back on them, especially in the cold January days, they kept her warm and made her feel special. She hadn't ever felt that warm flush in her chest with anybody but Harry. She'd kind of avoided the feeling, usually.

By July, after long periods of silence where he was running around the world while she endeavored to save it, the glow of those days paled in the midnight sun. When he acted like a boyfriend, like they were more than a hookup and then ignored her, it hurt. When she was well into her yearly drought, and all she had were those shooting stars to wish upon, the sweeter he was, the more rich the ache, the aftertaste saccharine.

Emma could tell, his gifts and the joy he seemed to take in giving them would warm her to the backbone through January, and make her teeth hurt by July.

And still she couldn't convince herself to stop, to ask, to protect herself. She couldn't even detach a little, she was so excited about the little stuffed animal she had for him in return.

"Harry, this is beautiful!" She unfolded a gorgeous sweater dress of a fine wool knit that screamed warm.

"Yeah?" He smiled, pleaded with the praise and himself. "I was at Gucci, and I was gonna get you some stuff there, but they just didn't feel like you, so I started doing some research on sustainable brands and I found this one, and another. This one is good for day to day, it's called Ever Lane, and the next, Bode, it's great for retro pieces. Open the next one."

She'd been staring at him. He was going to buy her Gucci? This was better, but that seemed like a pretty penny to spend on your holiday hook up. She knew money wasn't really an object for him. He always paid for the hotel on their rendezvous and she never brought it up. It was always just taken care of. She wasn't a starving student, but she also wasn't an international pop star. These gifts felt big, bigger than what they were.

He liked to be generous. But, it felt like these gifts, the 5 packages and one coming later were a statement in a language she didn't understand.

"Harry, this is too much." Was all she could say. He didn't respond with words, just gave her a look and shrugged his shoulders like, 'what else am I supposed to do with it'.

Emma knew from Gemma that Harry took care of them, their vehicles and his mum's house and whatever they mentioned they wanted or he thought they'd like.

Gemma had said last year, when she was thrilling over her Christmas gifts, "It's the one time of year I let him get away with it. The rest of the time I've gotten to where I don't mention things I like or want, because they show up on my doorstep, you know?"

Emma had nodded even though she didn't know, but she did now. He was so thoughtful it hurt, but the implications troubled her.

"Open the next one. I'm really excited for it."

It was a beautiful jacket, mustard, her favorite color, and matching mittens.

"For when you want to ride your bike, but it's chilly. They're very warm." He remembered she was cold on her bike that day.

Emma knew he remembered her text after the 'what are you wearing' conversation about being grumpy because she had chosen to ride her bike but it was too cold. His big beating heart could melt snow.

She swallowed down the sentiments clogging her throat along with her worries. Should she ask? She'd have too, eventually. This was feeling more serious than it should be, like he wanted to call her babe for more than a weekend, like he wanted her to stay, with him.

It's what she wanted, in some part of her, but was completely out of the question. He had a big international life, and she had her own global ambition.

The rest was wrapped donation cards to causes she'd worked for or even mentioned. The last gift was a small box, and when she opened it, she cried, then laughed and handed him his box.

"What?" He said, "I can't tell if you're happy or sad about that gift?" He worries his bottom lip.

It was another frog, just like the one she'd picked as the tangible gift when she'd made the donation in his name.

Emma just shrugged and wiped her eyes. "Open it."

His bursting balloon laugh inflated her merry heart. "Did we really do the exact same thing?" His face had an odd look she could only call tender.

"Same wavelength, me and you." He was misty like she had been a moment ago. He leaned forward and kissed her. Then picked up their stuffed frogs and made them kiss like he was a small child playing dolls. "I almost don't want to separate them."

"Are we still talking about the frogs?" She laughed, because she had a feeling they weren't.

He shrugged and his phone began to buzz. "Can I take a rain check on answering that question? If I don't leave right now, they will know I stayed out all night on Christmas Eve, and there will be questions. I don't think we are quite ready to explain what we are." He chose that moment to yawn like a lion in the late afternoon after a long day of lounging and got up to leave.

Emma still had questions.He'd said not quite ready to explain what they were doing. Emma wasn't even sure what they were doing. Were they going to tell people, tell Gemma? Tell them what? That they were together? Wanted to be together? Belonged together. The frogs too, did the frogs belong together?

He was dressed by the time she was done freaking out. He looked tired, but exhilarated, like he'd spent a night getting everything he wanted and a few things he didn't know he needed. "Bye doll," he kissed her, right on the mouth, affectionately and with only a trace of the heat the December air lacked. "I'll see you tomorrow night. Merry Christmas! I wanna see you in the sweater," he was walking through the door. "Oh, and the other thing?"

"Other thing?" She looked at him confused.

He pointed underneath the tree. "Have another look."

Emma blushed when she opened the lingerie. She wondered if he'd had to check her pants and bras for sizes or if he just knew the shape of her well enough that he'd guessed accurately.

They looked really good.

She needed to be getting home as well. There would be no getting out of it, she needed an excuse for rolling in just in time for Christmas brunch, her parents were notorious early risers, as was she. Her plan was to tell them she'd just made too merry the night before and slept on the couch at the Twist's. It was truth adjacent. It was the best she could come up with, her head was full of Harry and she couldn't think.

Her Christmas passed in a blur of food and wine and wrapping paper. Harry had sent her a picture of him with a bow on his head and asked her if she felt spoiled enough or needed him to wear the bow the next day.

She'd told him to wear it. And only it.

She'd not expected him to follow directions both precisely and with some creative license.

"Do you really think your cock is a gift?" She tried to mock him, while he stood proudly, hips first in their room at the Boat's Head.

"Well, I intend to give it to you!" He raised his eyebrows and stalked toward her. "I like the sweater. Looks amazing, but? Probably better here." He swept it over her head and deposited it on the floor.

"That was atrocious!" She giggled, but felt no anxiety unlike the last day or so.

"Yeah, maybe, but I needed to see if you'd worn my other gift."

"I thought it was my gift."

"For both of us, I'd argue." He winked.

"You wink like a drunk pirate." She couldn't help but smile at him. His silly banter had completely removed the nerves she should be feeling, standing in front of him in a Santa red bra, panties, garter belt, and stockings. She'd sourced the Santa hat herself and the black heels were hers.

"I'm feeling drunk seeing you in this." His hands were running over the satin on her hips and the lace at her waist, then the bare flesh of her ass. "I think I even lied to myself. This was definitely my present." The last word was said against her lips and his big hands slid down the globes of her backside to between her thighs, hoisting her onto his hips. The trail his thumbs left had her shivering.

The bed rose up to meet her. Harry hovered over her before standing and staring.

"Are we on pause?" She was panting and really hoping they were not stopping let alone slowing.

He opened his hands like a director, "I'm just trying to remember this to keep me warm all year." He ran his hands from her toes to her curled hair, she'd gone all out, then back down. His face was full of anticipation and a hesitation she'd never seen when she was this bare, not even the first time when he was flush on bravado and international acclaim.

"What is it?" She started to sit up.

He groaned. "Wow, that move did great things for your chest."

Emma could only laugh. He was acting like he'd never seen a naked woman, when he'd probably seen more than his fair share, and had definitely seen her before.

"You're acting like you've never seen me before."

"It's always like the first time. You're overwhelming."

"I'm overwhelming?" She wanted to laugh, she saw him as Harry, at first her friend's brother, then the cute boy with the big career she'd hooked up with, then her favorite holiday surprise, and now she couldn't define exactly what he was to her, mostly Harry? Who she missed all year and cherished for a week at a time in person, a deeply in her heart the rest of the time. She remained aware, however, of who he was, at large.

"Absolutely, I can barely take you. Can't believe I get to have you." What did she say to that? She only nodded, it was mutual. "Listen," he continued, "Can I take a picture of you. I'll keep your face out of it."

She thought for a moment, thrilled that he wanted to save this memory, to relive this moment until they met again. She didn't have any pictures of him, and thought there were so many online, none of them were really of him. "Yeah, go on Harry."

Maybe she should take one back. Save the neck down one place and the neck up as her wallpaper, she could get away with it. She saw classmates with him as their Home Screen. Her plans kept the nerves at bay while he got his set up ready.

He posed a leg, had her lay back, and then sit up. He took about 5 pictures on his phone, then three Polaroids, and by then she was getting into it. She was moving in ways that made her feel sexy and he was getting antsy.

"I'll show you, so you can approve, after." He discarded the phone and pulled his jumper over his head before crawling up the bed and over her.

"I trust you Harry. It's fine."

She wasn't sure what it was about those words, but he grew, thicker between her thighs and larger in her presence before he was kissing her bra off and asking if he could leave the stockings and shoes on.

"'Mmmhmmm." Emma moaned from her perch on the pillows looking down watching him pull her panties free and reattaching her stockings. "Damn." He kissed both places and flipped her over to skate his lips up her thighs and ass and back. Her hair was over her face while he kissed her neck and rutted into her with his jeans still on. She grabbed a handful of his glorious hair and kissed him over her shoulder. "Like this?" She asked.

"Mmhmmm." He echoed and she felt him kicking his jeggings free and sliding on the condom. She was flat on the mattress and unsure if he wanted her to push back on her knees. She didn't need to think about it long, he hoisted her up, and pressed a gentle hand between her shoulder blades so her body arched like a slide. His fingers climbed up to cascade down her backbone in an echo of the ride he was about to take down. He was right there, hovering, and Emma pushed back, but the whine in her voice was the more obvious tell.

"Baby, I need you."

"I need you, so much. Miss you when I'm gone."

She missed him when she was gone too. He slid his head in and waited. Emma wasn't really in control of the clenching this caused and it made Harry lose his grip on his. The smack of his hips against her thighs reverberated off the borrowed walls they considered their own.

He stroked her inside out and commented on the grip of her onto his dick. "It's like you don't want to let me go," he whispered into her ear.

Emma turned her head and breathed, "I don't want to." The kiss broke his rhythm and lingered until her clenching started over, again. How was she so close so soon?

"No, no, no." She whined when he pulled out.

"Shhhh, I've got you." He knew she was onto something, they'd become practiced hands at each other's pleasure.

He flipped her over and smoothed her hair back, bracketing her face between his hands like an aside he needed to voice right at that moment. "I just want to see you."

He went back in with ease, and with anybody else she might be ashamed for how embarrassingly wet she was, for the squelch. "God! Harry!" Her thighs came up to his hips and he hitched one over his elbow and open, then lay a good portion of his weight onto her. It was just the right side of too much. Just like all of him.

"Let me find it again, that high you were chasing?"

She was nodding, babbling. He picked up the rhythm from before and added a tiny rut at the end to the swelling of her clit. She was back on the trail to the summit quickly. It had been good, if fumbling, from night one. By this gift season, it was like he had installed all of her buttons personally and could push her to the edge at will. Her eyes were closed and she was concentrating hard on the oasis just beyond her horizon.

"Baby," he whispered, his breath soft and scented like her lip balm. "Open your eyes." He was just over her and he wrapped her open thigh back and around his knee. "Watch me," he made a c with his body so she could watch the goings on and feel them too.

"Oh, fuck."

"I love your filthy mouth. When you get going. Demure driven Emma on the brink has a dirty dirty mouth."

She'd narrow her eyes at him if she could bear to look away from his cock.

"Baby!" She gasped.

"Hold it, stay, just a little longer." He kissed her and then compelled her eyes to his. "I'll come with you."

His nose touched hers at just the tip and he rocked her and watched as she trembled and held off and pleaded. "Now, now, come now." He grit his teeth in preparation, but he needn't have worried, the minute he commanded it, she obeyed and the body roll of sensation ran from the roots of her hair to the bends of her knees.

He seized and his head fell back, but as soon as he was in command of himself again, his eyes were back on hers. "I love...," he gasped and her mind raced over what the hell he might say. What she wanted to gasp back. It was a bit of a comedown as opposed to a denouement when he filled in, "...having you for Christmas."

He buried his face in her neck and breathed into the nooks and crannies she thought she had kept safe from him.

Which was why it hurt so much when she had to tell him no.

His final gift, complete with an aching grin, had been an open ended ticket. "So you can come to me, with me, on tour."

She knew her brow knotted up like a bundle of discarded yarn. That wasn't the agreement. And she couldn't, couldn't even allow herself to want it. She had her PhD program looming. There was no time to go anywhere this fall.

"Harry, you know I can't."

He looked crestfallen, like this was new information and not why they only got these stolen snowbound days once a year. "Can't or won't?" He was verging on angry and it would piss her off if her heart wasn't so close to fissuring.

Honesty was her only policy, "Both." She handed the ticket back to him.

It ruined their night, the movie they tried to distract themselves with, the goodbye sex they didn't have.

He wasn't even there when she woke up the next morning.

But the tickets were on his pillow with a small note, "Change your mind, please. I'll be seeing you. H."

[galli-writes]

(Click here to read on Ao3!)

fandom: Teen Titans

pairing: BBRae

genre/warnings: AU - Canon Divergence; Implied/Referenced Abuse, Abusive Parents, Childhood Trauma, Graphic Depictions of Violence

additional tags: Angst, Family Issues, Friendship/Love, Protectiveness, Slow Burn, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions

summary:

There are a few things that Beast Boy knows for certain:

He’s 21….and a total lightweight. He’s a vegan (but not like…a pretentious vegan). He’s not going to be single forever.

And the Teen Titans are the only family he’ll ever need.

a/n: Hello! I am bad at updating. Please forgive my sins.

Chapter 6: The Invitation (words 5,129)

The TV buzzed in the background, images flashing against the rising sun. Beast Boy stared at the screen without really looking at it as he poured some orange juice into a glass at the kitchen counter. His hand shook ever so slightly as he took a sip, and he tried to convince himself it was purely from a lack of sleep. But he knew that was only part of the problem at best. As he looked around the room, he locked eyes with the eerie monkey statue, still on display, and put his glass down with a hard swallow.

Beast Boy never brought up Galtry. Raven hadn’t mentioned him either, though that was probably less intentional. Even so, with each day that passed, his conviction only grew stronger. It had to have been Galtry. It just made sense. Didn’t it?

Beast Boy set his glass back down on the counter--and it was a good thing too, because if he had still been holding onto it when the doorbell rang, it definitely would have shattered on the floor.

Everything in the room went still for a moment. At the other end of the counter, Robin suddenly looked up from his phone, finishing off a bite of french toast. Cyborg had turned away from the TV, looking toward the door and then down at a screen on his arm in mild confusion.

“Uh...Well damn.”

“What is it?” Robin asked, already starting to get up to answer the door.

“I’m looking at the cam now,” Cyborg continued. “Whoever that was, they sure left in a hell of a hurry.”

Beast Boy tried to turn his attention to the TV again, and was able to do so with some effort. Above him, men and women wearing either red or blue aprons dashed around a kitchen at full speed. Pumpkins and fall leaves decorated the scene. A smiling scarecrow was pegged in the corner next to one woman’s prep station. At that moment, the host was asking a contestant about her pumpkin spice cinnamon rolls, which were already in the oven. It wasn’t the most creative approach to the challenge, but it was only the first round. So playing it safe was still acceptable.

Then the screen cut to commercial. Beast Boy looked back down at the counter, suddenly shoved back into reality. A reality that became all the more treacherous when he heard Robin returning--and heading his direction.

“Who was it?” Cyborg asked casually, turning back to the TV.

“I’m...not sure,” Robin said slowly. “But they left this. Beast Boy--”

“Huh?” Beast Boy nearly jumped, feeling Robin next to him now.

“It’s...for you.”

“Me? ”

Robin handed him a small card, which he took willingly despite himself. His name was unmistakably clear on the front flap. Well, not his name, but the name of someone he knew was supposed to be him. Galtry’s name wasn’t present, but it was clearly his handwriting--an elegant cursive Beast Boy had regrettably memorized by now. Even so, he had to squint to make out the words on the front of the card. He flipped it over. In slightly more legible text, there was a time and address. The lack of a date could only imply today.

“Any idea what it is?” Robin asked.

Beast Boy knew his curiosity was well warranted, but he froze under Robin’s expectant gaze.

“I mean....it kinda looks like an invitation or something,” Beast Boy said, trying to avoid eye contact. “But I’m not sure how we’re supposed to RSVP.” He managed a small, unconvincing laugh.

“Do you know who it’s from?” Robin continued, in the same awfully unassuming tone.

“No.” Beast Boy shrugged, pocketing the card. “I don’t.”

And that wasn’t technically a lie.

***

The forecast for the night showed more rain—this time enough to warrant a flood watch. Residents of certain parts of the city were advised to stay inside and avoid driving altogether.  Unfortunately, this didn’t apply to the restaurant they were to meet Galtry at. Of course it had been decided that Beast Boy wouldn’t be going alone, and for that he was grateful. In truth, he didn’t really want to go at all. But given the circumstances, Robin had decided the matter was ‘probably worth looking into.’ And Beast Boy knew better than to disagree.

In his room, Beast Boy knelt before a pile of clothes, rummaging through them without a clear goal. He didn’t know what he was going to wear--what he was supposed to wear for something like this. Probably something pretty nice if he was going off of Galtry’s handwriting alone.

Eventually, he came to the decision that the clothes on the floor were too wrinkled anyway. And when he couldn’t find anything reasonable in the closet, he turned to the dresser in desperation. He barely kept any clothes in there, but there had to be something . He yanked open the bottom drawer with some effort, finding nothing but a collection of mismatched socks, useless knick knacks--and a picture frame he’d intended to keep buried.

The picture was of course the same as it had been the last time he’d seen it. His own dark, disheveled hair contrasting with his mother’s blond waves. His father’s tight smile and focused gaze. When he was younger, people had always told him he ‘had his father’s eyes’. So dark they were nearly black. Beast Boy caught a flash of his reflection in the glass frame. His eyes were still quite dark, but in the light they betrayed a subtle green glint.

He frowned. With a new sense of purpose, Beast Boy got up, the frame tight in his grip as he turned his back on the mess surrounding him.

In the common room, he quickly found a small box of trinkets with ample space to house the frame. Using some discarded bubble wrap, he neatly repacked the picture, tucking it away next to some old books. Beast Boy glanced around the room, searching for something he could use to seal the box up for good. With a few carelessly ripped off pieces of packing tape, he folded the box shut and shoved it back with the rest of them.

And immediately afterward, a stream of guilt flooded over him.

One curse at a time, he ripped off more and more tape to finish off the rest of the packages before he changed his mind. With some effort, he pushed them into a neat pile at one end of the room. He would have to ask Dr. Galtry—whoever he was—to come have them picked up as soon as possible.

“What’re you doing?”

Beast Boy jumped slightly, taken off guard by the sound of someone’s voice. He took a breath to steady himself and turned around.

It was only Raven.

“Oh, uh, nothing,” he said, scrambling to his feet. “Just...cleaning.”

Raven simply raised an eyebrow in uninterested disbelief. She was standing next to the fridge with a can of ginger ale in one hand and a hefty book in the other. Neither of those things were particularly remarkable for Raven.

But what was strange was the way she was dressed. Opposed to her usual baggy sweaters and leggings, she was wearing jeans and a cardigan over a blouse he’d never seen before. It even looked like she might be wearing makeup. Real makeup that had clearly taken more effort than her everyday eyeliner.

“So I guess you heard about dinner tonight, right?” he asked only now realizing he was staring.  

“Yeah. Sucks for you guys,” Raven said plainly, taking a sip of her soda.

“What do you mean?” Beast Boy said, genuinely puzzled for a moment. “You ’re not coming with us?”

“I have...plans.”  

Beast Boy eyed the book in her hand. “Sitting in your room reading doesn’t count as plans.”

“ Real plans,” she said defiantly, tossing the now empty can in the recycling.

“Well you’ll have to reschedule,” another voice said suddenly, short and stern.

Beast Boy and Raven both turned around to find the rest of their friends approaching from the nearest hallway, Robin at the lead.

“I can’t,” Raven replied, her tone just as sharp and uncompromising.

But Robin didn’t budge. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, arms crossed against his chest. “But this is official Titans business, and you know what takes precedence. That’s all I’m gonna say about it.”

Raven frowned, but she didn’t put her book down. She merely stuffed it into her purse, which was much too small to properly contain it.

“Uh...car’s all ready out back,” Cyborg said, gesturing to the garage with some hesitation.

Raven sulked past them without a word, not even bothering to try and call shotgun.

The drive was awkward and uncomfortable. At least for Beast Boy.

At some point he realized Starfire was talking to him about the latest Netflix series she’d been binging. It was a clear effort to distract from the all consuming depressive aura of the back row. Beast Boy nodded at the appropriate moments, but couldn’t even remember the name of the show two minutes into the conversation.  

Raven didn’t look up from her book once during the entire trip. But it was obvious she was only pretending. Beast Boy couldn’t help but notice that she never once turned the page--and Raven was a fast reader. He didn’t mean to notice the slip of paper tucked between the pages--didn’t mean to see what was scribbled on it. The messy, half-cursive script was almost illegible, but it was clearly a reminder of some sort. A date, a place, a time--the last of which was circled aggressively in dark ink.  Beast Boy made a conscious effort to try and stare straight ahead. He didn’t want to be caught staring again. But of course, it was hard not to notice things like that when you were sitting right next to someone.

What plans did Raven have? ...Not that it mattered to him, of course. Whatever Raven did in her free time wasn’t any of his business, really. Even still, it was hard not to wonder what could be important enough to pull the world’s biggest introvert out of her room. In an actual put-together outfit no less. Then, for a brief moment, a disarming thought flitted through his mind. Hypothetically, in a world where Raven actually dated people, it would probably be safe to assume that she would never tell any of them about it. And why should she? But more importantly why should any of them care ? He didn’t.

Of course, the thought was utter nonsense to begin with. Raven had always made it abundantly clear that she had no interest in being in a relationship. Unless of course she’s been lying.  

Beast Boy began to feel a pit forming in his stomach for the millionth time that week. Just letting his mind wander as far as it had made him feel guilty--like he was prying into things that were none of his business. He tried to shift his train of thought to something-- anything --else beyond the uncomfortable terrain he’d stumbled into. And he didn’t know why it was so uncomfortable. Maybe it was because now he couldn’t stop thinking about the state of his own love life. At least Raven had the angsty brooding down pat. Any time he felt bad for himself--which was a little too often for his liking--he imagined he looked less like the lead singer of a pop punk band and more like a toddler who’d spilled their cheerios in the backseat of mom’s minivan. Right now he would have leaned up against the window and stared into the coming downpour like someone in an early 2000s music video...had he not been stuck in the middle seat again.

As they drove, Robin talked briefly of a ‘plan’ he’d been constructing in the event that things went south. Starfire and Cyborg seemed engaged enough, hyping themselves up for what they’d decided was going to either be a five star meal or an equally satisfying smackdown. But Beast Boy couldn’t find it in him to join them. Outside, the rain was picking up fast. The gray clouds above had brought on the night of their own accord, and even the thousands of city lights couldn’t entirely pierce through the darkness. Beast Boy slunk down further in his seat, sticking his hands deep in his pockets. In doing so, he realized abruptly that he had never actually changed clothes, and a familiar card was still tucked away in his pocket. Unfortunately, no amount of fiddling would make it disappear.

It was easy to recognize when they’d arrived at their destination. The traffic came to a complete stop, as cars—and even a limo or two—fought for a spot on the narrow strip of asphalt in front of the shimmering building before them. People poured out of the vehicles like liquid gold, as men in suits and women with designer handbags scrambled for the attention of the underpaid valet workers.

“Well this looks like...fun,” Cyborg said, hands gripping the wheel tighter, despite the utter standstill.

“I think we might be a little under dressed,” Robin said, peeking out the window and then down at his jeans and flannel. He sounded much less like a boy about to embarrass his family at the yacht club and much more like a detective who was going to blow his cover.

“Well I guess it’s too late for that now,” Cyborg said, automatically pulling up in line next to a man dressed in valet attire weilding a crisp black umbrella.

“Good evening, sir. May I have the name of your party?”

“Uh...” Cyborg hesitated.

Without thinking, Beast Boy reached for the card in his pocket. In a matter of seconds it had acquired some impressively deep folds and a slight tear in one corner, but it was still easily readable and recognizable. He leaned forward and silently passed it to the man like he’d been rehearsing the action for months.

The man’s eyes widened instantly. “Oh, of course. Dr. Galtry has been expecting you.”

A brief moment of silence hung in the air between them as Cyborg continued to grip the wheel.

Beast Boy stared straight ahead. The tension was palpable. For everyone else, the sound of Galtry’s name must have conjured some form of excitement. Good or bad. Some sense of progress in unearthing a mystery. For Beast Boy it only stirred up the guilt surrounding how much he’d withheld.

“If you would—“ the man said, clearing his throat slightly. He nodded toward the driver’s seat as he spoke. “I would be happy to take care of your vehicle.”

“I...uh,” Cyborg hesitated again, his hands gripping the steering wheel even tighter.

“That would be great, thanks,” Robin interjected from the other side. Cyborg shot him a quick look of doubt, but it was quickly followed by a sigh of resignation as he let go of the wheel.

From the safety of the covered curb, Beast Boy watched with his friends as the man stepped into the driver’s seat and fumbled for a moment with the controls.

“Be safe, baby,” Cyborg half whispered as the car disappeared into the fray. And despite all of the nerves clouding his mind, Beast Boy couldn’t help holding back a smile, patting his friend on the shoulder in consolation.

The inside of the restaurant was just as extravagant as the exterior suggested, even more so as the former had certainly been dulled by the weather. Immediately upon entering through the crystal double doors, Beast Boy found himself brushing shoulders with men and women who looked like attendees of a red carpet after party. The entire building—which was completely packed beyond any sense of personal space—was littered with dark wooden tables, velvet curtains, and chandeliers. Light bounced around the room off silver plates and platters carried around by elegantly dressed waitstaff. Even from the distance of the foyer, the scene was simultaneously beautiful and nauseating.

“The party for Dr. Galtry?” A young woman’s voice rang out from behind a tall podium in the corner of the entryway. “We have you in our private dining--” the woman started, pausing as she looked up to meet the group before her. Her eyes grew wide and a clearly unscripted smile came across her face. She had to be in her late teens or early twenties--and was one of the youngest people in the room.

“Sorry,” she said, the smile still on her face. Her brilliant emerald jewelry sparkled as she began to move. “Um...If you’ll just follow me right this way.”

Weaving through the tables turned out to be even more dizzying than just looking at them. And with every step, Beast Boy felt more and more like he was walking straight back into the cave of a hungry beast hoarding its jewels. When they finally came to a halt, it was in front of a large wooden door at the back end of the restaurant. Like the den of a sleeping dragon, this area of the restaurant boasted an even greater number of precious gems and wrinkle lines.

“Dr. Galtry will be waiting for you all inside,” the young woman said, nodding her head slightly.

An awkward beat of silence passed as she continued to stand there without turning to leave, her eyes darting down to her feet.

“Sorry, I know this is like, super unprofessional, and I know you guys are busy, but I was just wondering...if I could maybe get an autograph?” she said quietly, the words spilling out a million miles an hour. She was looking up now, and despite referring to the entire group, it was clear her attention rested on Starfire.

“Certainly!” Starfire smiled.

As if by magic, a small receipt notepad and chewed up pen had already appeared in the young woman’s hands.

“I love your bracelet by the way,” Starfire beamed, taking the pad of paper and beginning to doodle on it.

“Oh, this?” the girl laughed nervously. “Thanks. I mean, it’s nothing really.”

Starfire handed the paper back with a smile, the pad now feverishly adorned with hearts and stars surrounding her signature.

The young woman seemed to be beside herself with joy. She managed another clumsy string of thank yous before disappearing into the crowd again.

There was another long silence.

“I hate it here,” Raven said abruptly, shattering any lingering sentiments of the preceding interaction.

The look on Starfire’s face was more than enough of a response.

“I’m not talking about the girl,” Raven huffed.

Beast Boy looked around. It was true. The suspicious glares were more than enough to tell that the rest of the diners weren’t fans. Maybe coming here had been a mistake.

“Is it really--? Oh, yes, finally!”

Beast Boy blinked hard, a smooth but animated voice bringing him back into the room.

“I’m so glad that you all agreed to meet me here,” a man said, approaching them eagerly.

Suddenly everything seemed to blur. The motion of the restaurant became nothing more than a swirling backdrop of light. For the third time that night, Beast Boy caught himself staring. He looked just like his picture. Too perfect to be real--and yet there he was. Black hair, dark eyes, perfect smiling complexion. The only indicator of his age was the shadow of graying stubble around his chin--and even that looked somehow manicured and intentional. But he walked and talked and was standing right before them just like any other human being. It felt like being in a dream. Or a nightmare.  

“I’m so sorry. I had to step outside to make a phone call,” the man continued. “Galtry. Dr. Nicholas Galtry,” he said, proceeding to shake each of their hands with an unprecedented force. “Really, it is an honor meeting the rest of you.”

“The...rest of us?” Robin asked, wiping his palm on his pant leg.

The man stopped short, a look of pure bewilderment washing over his face. “Oh...don’t tell me you didn’t get my letter?” As he spoke, he turned to look at Beast Boy directly.

“So you’re the letter guy?” Cyborg said, with a somewhat forced laugh.

“I had hoped Garfield might at least mention my name,” Galtry said, slowly.

For a moment, Beast Boy felt the same sense of crippling guilt returning, coupled with the discomfort of hearing his ‘name’ spoken aloud by someone he didn’t know. Or didn’t know well . He was still deciding.

“Well, I’m sure you all must be tired, called out like this on such short notice,” Galtry continued. “Again, all of my apologies, but I just couldn’t wait any longer to speak to you. Here, let’s go inside, shall we?”

The private dining room certainly was private. Almost to the point of being soundproof, which Beast Boy found to be more of a concern than a comfort. Robin automatically sat the closest to Galtry, which was unsurprising but still a relief. Beat Boy opted for a spot in the middle of the long table, where he reasoned he would be least likely to garner extra attention from their host.

Just then, the door swung open again, and another member of the wait staff entered to pour water into the intricate crystal glasses before them. He then proceeded to take drink orders—a cherry coke for Beast Boy and pinot grigio for Dr. Galtry.

“So,” Galtry said, swirling his wine like he was on the cover of a food magazine. “I understand you all have been on Arsenal’s trail for some time now.”

The room went still. Until, of course, Robin eventually broke the silence.

“Arsenal?”

The question would have sounded redundant on anyone else’s lips. But Robin said it with such confidence that it was Galtry who looked embarrassed.

“Oh. Of course. I’m sorry. I had assumed you were familiar with them.”

As one waiter exited, two more replaced him, setting various cutting boards piled high with expensive cheeses and sausages down the center of the table. Galtry sliced a piece of smooth white cheese off the cutting board, spreading it on a piece of toast without even looking down. “They’ve been causing me trouble ever since I first got here.”

“You sound like you know ‘em,” Cyborg said, his eyes resting on Galtry as he skewered his own kebab of sausage rounds.

“Unfortunately,” Galtry grumbled, mostly to himself. “They’ve been after some research of mine for some time now. I don’t pretend to know why. I’m not sure they would even know what to do with it if they were to get a hold of it.”

“What exactly are you researching?” Robin asked tentatively.

Galtry looked up at him suddenly, an expression akin to embarrassment flashing once more across his face. He was clearly not the type of man accustomed to having to introduce himself.

“I’m sorry. I’m getting a bit ahead of myself, aren’t I?” he cleared his throat. “I haven’t even properly introduced myself. That’s what happens when you frequent limited social circles your entire adult life,” he said with a short laugh. “Right now I hold a position as Research Chair for the department of Genomics at the University of Pretoria. I primarily conduct research regarding the development of new gene therapy technologies.”

“Why would the genes need therapy?” Starfire asked, already on her second round of charcuterie.  

Galtry fought back a bemused smile. “It’s not literal. Though that would be something, wouldn’t it? It’s a type of medical procedure,” he explained. “The sort of thing that would help us treat genetic disorders like cystic fibrosis or even reverse the production of cancer cells. The details are a bit...complicated,” he said thoughtfully, looking into his glass.

“As for my being here in Jump City, I admit it’s a bit of a surprise even to me. The U.S. Northeastern Scientific Board regularly invites me to present my work at their annual symposium, which is usually held in Gotham. But I understand there’s been somewhat of a crime spike there recently. And criminals do love the smell of science they don’t understand,” he said with a sardonic smile.

“You’ll have to excuse me for being so blunt,” Robin interjected. “But what does this have to do with us exactly?”

“Well that's a simple question with a rather complicated answer,” Galtry said, a slight frown coming across his face. “The less complicated aspect has to do with Arsenal themself. When I learned that they had found some opposition after following me to the states, I knew I would have to meet with whoever was tracking them. Lucky for me it turns out you all are pretty famous around here.”

“Well I wouldn’t say famous ,” Cyborg said, barely pulling off airs of humility.  

The doors swung open a third time as if on cue, this time letting loose a small string of waiters, each steering a cart laden with different shapes and sizes of covered plates. One was placed in front of each person at the table with expert precision and lifted dramatically to reveal the contents. Beast Boy was more than surprised to find that his dish was completely different than everyone else’s—stuffed mushrooms that looked like they’d been specially prepared. He didn’t remember mentioning that he was a vegan, and had the harrowing thought that maybe he had reached a stage where people knew without asking.

“So how do you know Beast Boy?” Starfire asked, head tilting slightly to one side like a puppy.

It was the question Beast Boy had been dying to hear the answer to--though he knew he would have been incapable of asking it.

“Of course. That’s the other half of the matter. And a bit more complicated,” Galtry said, rubbing his hands together meditatively. “The simple answer is that I was a friend of his parents’. Back during their tenure at the University of Pretoria.” There was a soft smile on his face, but it didn’t seem to exude any kind of joy. “Small world, isn’t it?”

“But all of those artifacts...all of their belongings--you sent those?” Robin tried to clarify.

Galtry nodded. “After their unfortunate passing, I was designated Garfield’s legal guardian by the court that sorted their affairs. They were always very private people, and I was the closest acquaintance they had. Their son was supposed to inherit their entire fortune--the only problem being...well...no one knew where you were,” he said, looking directly at Beast Boy now. “Seeing as you had still been under close medical watch at the time of your disappearance, it was the general belief that you had died somewhere in the jungle shortly afterward. But because there was never any actual proof of that being the case, the money was never dispersed by the government or anyone else. Instead it’s in a bit of a state of limbo held by those same officials—where it’s been utterly useless given the circumstances.”

Galtry looked down at the table, shaking his head. “I had just about given up hopes of ever finding Garfield—you wouldn’t believe how difficult it is to find someone once they’ve essentially erased their given name from their identity. Even through legal means. Surprisingly, the small detail of him being green didn’t help very much either,” Galtry said with a small laugh. “I only recently learned it was even an aspect of his...condition. The side effect hadn’t quite developed completely before he disappeared.”

Galtry spoke to his friends as if this was knowledge Beast Boy had always possessed and merely neglected to share with them, which, as far as he knew, was not the case. Though the historic tirade made him wonder just how much of his life he had forced himself to forget.  

Galtry shook his head once more. “There were always flitting rumors of what had really happened to the Logans’ son, but I was always too stubborn to believe them.” A small ironic smile crept over his face as he looked directly at Beast Boy. “You have to understand. I’ve dedicated my entire life to the sciences. And, quite frankly, your very existence seems to defy its most basic principles.”

The silence that followed was unlike any other that had filled the air that night. There was a certain quality to it that went beyond discomfort. Beast Boy felt himself instinctively clench the sides of his chair as he struggled to keep his expression neutral. Galtry’s words felt eerily like a compliment, and somehow that made things worse.

Robin cleared his throat suddenly, making a point to stand from his seat. “Thanks for the meal, it was really delicious. But this is all a lot to take in. We’ll need a little more time as a team to consider whether or not we can help you.”

“I completely understand,” Galtry said with a smile. “Especially considering we’ve only just met.” He folded his hands in front of him, like a compassionate leader about to make a compromise with some of his disheveled citizens. “If you all would like to know more about what it is I do, I would be more than happy to show you around my lab this weekend. Perhaps a better understanding of my work would convince you?”

“We’ll have to think about it,” Robin repeated in the same definitive tone.

“Of course,” Galtry said automatically. As if this were a dance he’d done many times before. “Here,” he rose from his seat. “For now the least I can do is see you off.”

The man known to them as Nicholas Galtry made his way through the door, exiting the restaurant the way they’d come in. But this time, Beast Boy noticed that it wasn’t the green skin and glowing eyes or robotic arms and legs that captured everyone’s attention. It was Galtry. The doors were opened for them as if on cue, valets and restaurant staff trailing behind them without Galtry so much as lifting a finger. When they got to the outside of the restaurant, Cyborg’s car was already there, running and ready to go.

“I could really use your help,” Galtry said, passing the keys from the valet’s hand to Cyborg’s. “I hope I’ll be hearing from you soon.”  

The second they were in the car, the doors shut tight behind them and a quiet voice broke the heavy silence.

“Did I mention I hate it here?” Raven mumbled, the first words she’d said since they’d met Galtry. The only words she’d said all night.

Beast Boy didn’t say it, but he had been thinking the same thing. Though maybe hate wasn’t the right word. Not exactly.

He turned to look out the back seat window, and watched as Galtry watched them drive away.

[baby-grayson]

Kind Stranger|Part 5|GBD

Read Part 1 Here Read Part 2 Here Read Part 3 Here 

 Read Part 4 Here Tags: @evergreendolan​ @someonetogray​ @vintagedolan​ @prettyboydolan​ @dolansficsandpics​ @graysavant​ @baby-turtles​

Kate’s eyes dubiously darted between the luxurious properties on the rich side of LA. When her phone pinged and told her she had made it to her destination, she swallowed hard. Her nerves about potentially hooking up with Grayson were replaced by new worries. Her fingers inched the steering wheel along a long, shrub lined driveway up to a bright white, huge house. Kate unplugged her phone from the center console in her car and sat back, she looked up to eye the house before going back to her phone to double check the address. It was right.

Suddenly, doubts filled her mind. Maybe Grayson sent her the wrong address? Maybe he lived with his parents? But he said he was from New Jersey. Maybe..well maybe… Kate’s eyes shot back and forth, taking in her scenery while thoughts raced through her mind. She noticed some movement in a second story window and realized she had been sitting in her car for too long. She forgot to check her hair before she gingerly stepped out of the car. She was a petite woman, but that moment made her feel small. She felt like Alice in Wonderland, like she ate something that shrunk her while the rest of the world grew. She slowly pushed one foot in front of the other and pulled herself to the front door.

Her worries were quelled slightly by the sight of Grayson’s bright smile through the glass in the front door. Grayson’s teeth nearly matched the color of white t-shirt, and even from a distance Kate could recognize the small gems on his incisors. She liked puzzles, and he was an enigma—a sweet enigma. Her sweet enigma swung the door open and greeted her with a warm hug that she gladly reciprocated. Grayson breathed it in again—that familiar sweet, citrus scent. As if on cue, both went back to the cabin of his van, with Grayson’s hand in her hair, and their lips softly attached.

Grayson pulled back from the hug, somewhat abruptly, not wanting to get lost in his physical excitement or indulgent emotions. He felt the heat in his face against the cold air-conditioned temperature of his entryway. “What’s up? I hope you’re hungry?” Grayson closed the front door behind her, not turning to maintain eye contact with her.  “I always am, did you order something?” Kate smiled brightly at him but did not move from where her feet were planted on the ground. “I made something,” Grayson grinned proudly and walked forward, silently urging her to follow.

Kate followed Grayson across the first floor of his house. The stone fireplace, high ceilings, and upscale decorations demanded something better than her tank top and shorts. She felt foreign here, as if she was taken out of her own life and placed here, a well-intentioned but confused visitor. Grayson had been speaking as he walked her through the house, but Kate was too busy ogling at her surroundings to focus on his words. Grayson led her to a small back patio with a table and chairs. Kate realized her cue to sit was when he pulled a single chair and held it out for her with his wide smile and perky cheeks.

Kate sat softly in the chair and laughed softly when he pushed her toward the table. She looked up at him from where she sat, his hands still on the crest of her chair. “This house… is it just you and your brother here?” Her mouth turned into a small gape of surprise when Grayson nodded, “Yeah, it’s just me and Ethan here.” She nodded softly while Grayson ran a hand through his hair. His gaze fell to the floor. He paused shortly before adding, “We’re renting this place. Our house is under construction right now.” Kate noticed his words get softer as he finished his sentence.

His eyes returned from the floor to find hers again, a nervous chill ran down his spine. His smile was unusually close lipped. “What do you want to drink?” Kate chuckled softly, “You’re a good host.” Grayson bowed his head softly, taking the compliment, before he winked subtly in her direction. He immediately wondered if people still winked at each other. “Can I just have a glass of water?” Grayson nodded, “Absolutely, I’ll be right back.”

Grayson stepped back into the house and Kate sat alone with her thoughts. Her mind wandered back to the house. How were Grayson and his brother able to afford to rent this? And buy another house? And why did he not want to talk about it? She felt like she wasn’t in on a joke. She felt like she had wandered into someone else’s territory. This wasn’t someone else’s territory; this was Grayson’s territory. The Grayson she met at the beach wouldn’t rent a mansion in the hills. Did this qualify as a mansion?

Before she could lose herself any further in her thoughts, Grayson walked through the backdoor carrying a tray with a glass of water, a can of diet root beer, two plates, a large bowl of salad. Kate shot up from her seat to take the plates from the tray and place them on the table. Grayson thanked her and placed the rest of their meal on the table. Sitting her seat, across from Grayson with a giant salad behind them, Kate felt confused. A hot guy invites her over when no one is home…to eat a salad with her. He was an enigma. “Do you cook often?” Does a salad count as cooking? It must when you’re talking to a guy like Grayson.

Grayson nodded while taking his portion, “Yeah, I’ve been cooking for me and my brother since we moved to LA.” God damn she looked pretty in the sunlight. Grayson watched the light dance on her eyes from across the table. “Is it fun for you? Do you try new things?” Kate filled her mouth after taking a mouthful of lettuce, appreciating the light summer breeze flowing through Grayson’s hair. She felt her heart smiled when his dimples showed up when he started to answer, his eyes turning up. “Yeah, I went vegan a few months ago. I’ve started tracking my nutrients and figuring out how to turn my favorite foods vegan. It’s so much easier than you’d think.” Kate let her lips slide into a mindless smile, basking in the light his heart gave off when he talked about something that really meant something to him. A person with passion was attractive. “So, you’re a vegan and you care deeply about your health,” Kate caressed the side of her water glass mindless, feeling the cold drops fall on her hot skin. “But you drink diet root beer?” She did not try to disguise the skepticism in his voice. “Yes I do!” Grayson’s voice rang in the backyard, exasperated. “It’s better than full sugar.” He held his can up near his face, in some sort of impromptu demonstration of nothing. He noticed Kate’s snicker and realized that once again, she was poking fun at him. He took a sip from the can and placed it down on the table. “I don’t quite know about that” her voice was made of equal parts playfulness and suspicion. “Well I know about it,” Grayson draped an arm around the back of his chair. “Not really,” Kate shook her head softly, “I’m the scientist,” she pointed to chest with a dainty finger, “I know about it.” She assured him confidently, Grayson had to dart his eyes back up to her face when she spoke to avoid looking at her chest. Grayson tried to think of a rebut to quip back but was disturbed by a rustle in the bushes. He and Kate turned their heads in sync to the back corner of the yard to discover Ethan carrying a bicycle across the fence line. Ethan looked up to make eye contact with both Grayson and his date, and immediately realized what he was walking in on. Momentarily, Ethan wondered if Grayson had told her already. Ethan leaned his bike against the side of the house and walked up to the table of lovebirds. Grayson internally swore at his brother and wondered how far Ethan would fly if Grayson threw him as hard as he could. Kate took a breath, stunned at just how ‘twin’ the twin brothers really were.

“I’m Ethan,” he nodded in Kate’s direction between glancing at his brother: recognizing that Grayson was dying slowly inside. “Kate,” she smiled politely up at him. Grayson slouched in his chair slightly, huffing small breaths and contemplating how much the strength of the wind would change Ethan’s flight pattern. “Sorry for disturbing you guys, I was just coming in from a bike ride,” his apologized to Kate but kept Grayson in the peripheral of his vision. “It’s fine,” Kate was sweet and reassuring. She was also pretty: Ethan could see why Gray liked her. Ethan felt the sweat drip down his face from his bike ride; he ran a hand through his hair to push it back, momentarily glancing at the ground. He stopped for a moment, noticing a throng of thick skin cover one of Kate’s ankles. Ethan’s brow furrowed as he took in a knot of scars wrapping around her left side. Kate sat straight up against the back of her chair and pushed her ankles underneath her chair, breaking Ethan’s gaze. She sucked in a harsh breath and looked at Gray while Ethan’s eyes fell on the pair again. Grayson’s embarrassment was growing at an exponential rate. “We were actually just finished eating,” Grayson stood up from his seat, “Why don’t you help me bring the plates inside Ethan?” Grayson gritted his teeth into something like a smile, hoping his twin understood he was being told to do it, not asked. The pair started clearing the table when Kate asked, “Do you have a bathroom I could use?” “Take a left at the kitchen and then it’s the second door on the right.” Grayson’s normal, low but sweet voice returned.

Kate wandered back into the house, looking a bathroom. She stopped at the kitchen island, noticing a video camera and small microphone sitting on the surface. She looked up again and noticed the same massive stone fireplace, looming over her from the dining table. Peering closer, she noted a couple of tripods leaning against the corner of the dining room. She followed Grayson’s directions to the hallway, where she noticed a couple of camera bags strewn on the floor.

“How could I tell her when you were staring like that?” Grayson gritted his teeth and waved his hands at his brother. “I’m sorry but how can you not expect me to stare when her leg looks like that? I feel bad but it’s true.” Ethan retorted. Grayson groaned lowly, crossed his arms, and leaned back against the counter. “Why is it like that?” Ethan’s voice no longer held the accusatory tone. “I don’t know,” Grayson looked down at the floor, “I keep wanting to ask her. I mean” he signed and shrugged, “I know she has a problem; I just don’t know what it is.”

Kate stepped into the kitchen to view this scene: a disheveled, discouraged Grayson and a sweaty, antagonistic Ethan. Kate smiled softly when Grayson looked up to see her, a matching expression forming on his face. Feeling, once again, like he was in someone else’s spaces, Ethan politely stepped out of the room. “Everything okay with you two?” Kate hesitantly stepped toward Grayson’s place at the counter.

Grayson nodded unconvincingly, “Yeah, everything’s aright.” “I know you said you guys fight a lot—” “—I have something to tell you” “oh,” Kate’s mouth fell and she swallowed slowly. Grayson’s palms felt a layer of sweat drape over them as his heartbeat heightened. He took a deep breath, but his thoughts were interrupted by Kate’s words, “I know.” Grayson’s eye brows raised as his jaw fell slightly, “You know?” his heart beat slowed but the sweat from his skin continued to drain into his palms. Kate took her own deep breath and nodded slowly. She could not bare to look at him, so she picked a banana in the fruit bowl on the counter and stared plainly at it as she rambled, “I know. Or at least. I think I know. And it’s okay. It really is. I get it. It’s LA. I’m not in Philly anymore. This place is different. You’re different. But you’re nice. And I like you. And I think this could go somewhere. And I don’t know really know what I think of it. But I guess I’m open to it. You’re sweet. I never thought I’d end up with… It’s just new for me.” Grayson’s left eye brow raised slightly, staring at her intently as she continued to talk to a bowl of fruit. His heart nearly fell to a complete stop when the next words came out of her mouth. “I know you’re a porn star.” She breathed out quickly and swallowed, “I just can’t figure out…is Ethan involved?” 

Grayson’s jaw gaped open. His eyes darted around the room, while thoughts raced around his brain. The air around his face grew stagnant while he tried to find words. Kate’s gaze shifted from the banana to Grayson and back to the banana. She felt her face go warm and bit her lip hard, looking back up at Grayson. Grayson felt his body go cold and mustered out the brain power to say, “No.” Kate angled her face, pulling back slightly.

“Um.. we’re not pornstars.” Grayson started plainly, breathing in between each word. He felt like he was choosing each word as it was coming out of his mouth, a slow and painful way of delivering news. “We’re Youtubers. We make videos.  We have been for nearly six years now. We have like 11 million fans on YouTube.  So yeah not porn…but you weren’t that far off, I guess…” Grayson found his own eyes latched onto the banana in the fruit bowl.

The air stood in the room. Kate’s brain couldn’t think straight when all of the blood rushed to her cheeks. Grayson’s grip on the counter tightened while his back teeth chattered. Kate shifted her weight from one foot to another, raising her gaze to look back at Grayson while he started to speak again, “I wanted to tell you. So you could maybe look it up for yourself. So, you could have a chance to figure things out for yourself before anything really …happened…. between….us…”. Grayson struggled to remember the reasons Ethan had preached at him last weekend.   Kate nodded slowly and met his eyes when Grayson finally looked up at her. His eyes were darker than usual, like their light had partially gone out. His face fell, where his cheeks usually balled up under his eyes. Grayson’s own brain nearly committed a mutiny. There he was, standing in his kitchen with a pretty girl. A nice girl. A smart girl. A great girl. And he couldn’t enjoy it because he had to stand in an awkward silence and explain what he did for a living. He was a normal guy. A normal 20-year-old dude who should be able to meet a normal girl without these problems. “Thanks for telling me,” Kate’s voice was soft. Her face matched the color of strawberries. “Maybe it’s best I go home, but I’ll um… I’ll look that stuff up and I’ll let you know what I think?” She wasn’t even sure what that meant, just that leaving that kitchen felt like the necessary course of action. Grayson cleared his throat and nodded. He stood up straight, taking his hands off the counter and crossing them. “That sounds good, feel free to let me know when you want to ...um do something again.” This was pathetic. He was pathetic. He had so much time to practice this and THIS is the best he could come up with. An awkward kitchen with a lack luster promise of another date.

Kate drove home in a daze. The highway must have taken her home because she did not have the mental capacity to process the kitchen debacle. She accused her gorgeous of date of being a porn star in his own home. Dread filled the pit of her stomach, sloshing around as she walked through her front door.

She grabbed her computer out of her backpack and opened it up. She searched his name, and despite his words, she was surprised at the amount of hits popping up. Maybe this was just something people did in LA? Maybe everyone was just an internet person? Kate thought about what would happen if she googled the guy who worked at the deli down the street, or the woman living downstairs. Are they internet personalities too? In the midst of her daze, Kate did what Ph.D. students do best: research.

She watched, read, and listened to all things Dolan until the sun went down. Her reaction happened in waves. At first, she laughed. She watched a young Grayson, with a much different haircut bounce around her screen. She met a younger Grayson and a mop-headed Ethan with a streak of colored hair. They look like the rejected members of One Direction. She felt slightly proud, Grayson was clearly a good person—or at least online Grayson was a good person. He was noncontroversial, funny, and wholesome.

The amount of content started to get under her skin. She found a documentary for his late father. She didn’t even know his father had passed. Grayson never mentioned it. She shifted and scrolled back farther, wanting to avoid anything person. The attempt was futile, shortly after the landed herself on a video of Grayson describing in detail how he bullied during his first few months of high school. Kate recoiled on her couch. She had been ridiculed in high school. As girl growing up in West Philly, an affiliation for books and facts didn’t produce many friends. She turned to Google, only to find an even more tangled web of disturbing rumors, speculation, and conspiracy theories.

Her stomach turned. Did Grayson want her to find this? Is that what he meant? Did he want her to know everything? If he wanted to open up to her, he could have just told her… But maybe this is how it’s done in LA? Her skin felt dirty. Her mind felt dirty. This was wrong. You don’t just research everything about someone else…She closed her computer and stuffed it back into her backpack.

She dug her phone out of her purse for the first time since coming home to see at three missed calls from Grayson. On the other side of LA, Grayson was obsessing over saying the wrong thing. He felt like he had pushed her away. His stomach knotted in confusion, concern, and anguish when she left. In the time she was gone, the knot only grew heavier. Grayson felt like he lost something he never had. He called her, expecting to get her voicemail again. He had written down what he wanted to say, a small message to say he wanted to know everything was okay and to let him know when she could. The knot in his stomach tightened when she picked up the phone. “Hello?” Her voice was soft like a summer breeze but weighed down by the sadness in the back of her mind. “Hi Kate,” Grayson’s voice was shaky on the phone. He quickly crumped his pathetic excuse of a script up and swallowed hard. Kate closed her eyes on the other end, feeling terrible for whatever emotional position Grayson was in right now. Kate only picked up the phone to quell the storm brewing inside of Grayson. But now that they were listening to each other’s voices, neither one knew how to give or get what they were looking for. “Are you okay?” Grayson started, “I know this must be a lot to take in” Yeah that wasn’t bad. Maybe he wasn’t going to completely fuck this up. “I’m…..” Intimidated? Lost? Scared? Confounded? Dizzied? “Confused” she decided on. “I guess. I uh wasn’t sure what you wanted me to see or not. There’s so much out there Grayson.” Grayson swallowed hard, his heart diving into the knot in his stomach when she spoke his name. Wasn’t it just last night that she spoke his name and made his heart flutter like a thousand butterflies escaping a paper bag. “I know there is. Six years is a long time,” he bit his lip, “Just uh—know that I’m here when you’re ready… to talk or to ask, whatever I can do to help this makes sense.” To help me make sense. “Will do,” Kate took in a breath that Grayson could hear over the phone. “I won’t be a stranger.” Grayson’s heart perked up slightly but fell again when he heard the dial tone as she hung up. His head hung low, feeling as thought the world had just proved him wrong. Was Grayson Dolan a normal guy? Could he not separate himself from his online presence? On the opposite side of LA, Kate’s heart hung low in her chest. She tossed her phone to the side and laid on her couch. She watched her ceiling fan spin, feeling dizzied both inside and out. She decided taking a shower would clear her head and help her get some sleep at night. Sleep was the last thing on Grayson’s mind. Grayson grabbed the keys to his Porsche before he could develop a real plan. He felt the feelings of self-doubt continue to grow in his stomach. He broke the speed limit on the freeway, a part of him thinking that if he could defy tangible rules then maybe the feeling in his stomach would stop taking hold in his brain. Every piece of his body, mind, and heart were fighting to decide on how to best approach this. Should he apologize? Should he talk her through the past six years? Should he blame Ethan for telling him to tell her? Before he knew it, Grayson found himself at Kate’s front door. He knocked, assertively, and let the warm, California nighttime air fill his lungs. She opened the door, and Grayson began speaking the second he heart the door hinges squeak. “I was wrong. I was wrong to tell you like that. I was wrong to lie to you, kind of, that day , at the aquarium. I was wrong to not give you more information. I was wrong to just send you on your way like that. Like I expected you to know what to do with that information. I don’t even know what you were supposed to do. But Ethan said that you should know before things get too far. But I really like you and …you’re…so—” Grayson’s mouth fell open slightly when he fully recognized the image in front of him.

He stared at her, mouth agape. Her petite shoulders were dripping water onto her towel, that was slowly becoming more soaked. Her small frame was only covered by a white, terry cloth tower. Her dark hair looked nearly black when wet. Her collar bone and cleavage were exposed to him. Her big brown eyes looked up at him, dewier and kinder than ever before. Her small pink mouth sat pursed and pensive on her face. Grayson drank her in. The knot in his stomach gave way. He gazed up at her big brown eyes and then back at her perfect, pink mouth. And before he knew what he was doing, he pulled her in. He cupped her face in his hands and moved his lips down to meet hers. They crashed together. He kissed her hungrily, not caring about the growing desire in his pants from not touching a woman in months. Unlike their last kiss, she did not pull away softly and quickly. Her lips reached for Grayson’s almost as fervidly as his sought hers. One of his traveled down to wrap around her waist, wanting to hold her tiny being as close against him as possible. No longer having to hold her towel up, one of her free hands pulled at the hair on the nape of his neck, demanding he come down further to meet her. Her other hand fingered his jaw and his neck. Her head tilted more to give him more access to her mouth as he began to explore her lips with his tongue. For the second time that day, his heartbeat overcame him. But this time, he didn’t care. He drank her in. Intoxicated by the idea that a normal guy could find a normal girl, and maybe they could be something. Something like a sweet enigma.

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Four

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry. 

(Fluffy part....and I will give a bit of a trigger warning here, y/n mentions abuse from an ex. This is sort of a short part, I part five is long and I promise it delivers on the smut. )

Part One Part Two Part Three

You left work a little early Wednesday. You had been marinating your cauliflower since the morning. But you wanted to make everything perfect for Harry. You put a table cloth over your small table, and added a single candle. You plated up your buffalo cauliflower. You spooned some blue cheese into a small bowl. You knew he wouldn’t eat it, but you needed it for yourself. You also put out some celery and carrots. You put a bottle of voka and some tonic out. Drinking on a work night wasn’t something you did often, but you knew vodka wouldn’t leave you with a hangover. He texts you letting you know he’s downstairs. You buzz him in and open your door.

“Love?” You hear him say.

“In the kitchen!” You yelp. He walks in. He’s wearing those black ripped jeans again. You can slightly see his thigh tattoo. The black t-shirt he’s wearing is slightly tattered too. You notice he took his boots off at the door.

He comes right up to you, and takes you in for a hug, he simply hold you for a few moments, and sighs happily.

“Y’alright?”

“Yeah, just a long day. Sorry for my appearance, I didn’t want to be late, and stupid me forgot to pack extra clothes.”

“You look fine. Sit, dinner’s ready.” You smile. He sits down at the table, and you hand him a serving utensil so he can take as much as he wants.

“This smells great, (y/n).”

“Thanks, it’s my own sauce recipe. It’s vegan, but the blue cheese isn’t.” You laugh.

“No worries, I don’t need it anyways.” He pops a smaller piece of cauliflower into his mouth, and nearly chokes. “Holy shit, this is spicy. Well done.” He takes a sip of the glass of water you left for him. You both decide you don’t need the alcohol tonight. You’re secretly thankful.

“I had some extra strawberries, no chocolate though.” You say after finishing dinner, bringing a bowl of strawberries to the table.

“Oh, thanks. Another thing I forgot about, bringing dessert.”

“Harry, it’s okay.” You look over at your couch. “Come on, let’s go sit down and get comfy, and you can tell me about your day.”

He grabs the bowl of strawberries and places it on your coffee table. Before you sit he grabs your wrist.

“Would it be alright if we, like, cuddled?” He looks at you with tired eyes.

“Of course.” Your heart flutters.

He lays on the couch, resting up against the pillow on the end near the armrest. You place your body on his, and he runs his hand across your back. He lets out another happy sigh.

“So how was your day?”

“Stressful.”

“I gathered. What happened?”

“Just these people I was working with, they didn’t understand my vision, and we kept fighting. It took nearly three hours to get two decent shots. Finally, they understood where I was going with it and let me do my thing. It was exhausting.”

“I’m sorry.” You nuzzled into his chest. You felt like you could fall asleep. Before you knew it, you heard light snores. You looked up and saw Harry’s eyes closed, and lips parted. You smiled at the beautiful site. You soon drifted off as well.

“Oh shit.” You awake to him rustling underneath you.

“Mm, what time is it?” You press into his chest.

“Only around eight-thirty. We slept for like two hours.”

“Must’ve needed it.”

“Love, I hate to move you, but I desperately need a wee.”

“Oh!” You immediately get off him. He goes down the hall to the half bath. You go use your bathroom as well.

He gets back to the couch first. Confused that you’re not there, but realized you probably needed a wee as well. He smiles at you as you come sauntering back in. You sit down next to him, and you both put your feet on the coffee table, his hanging over the other side. He really is tall. You grab the remote and turn the TV on. He puts an arm around you, and snuggle into him.

“Right, what are we watching?”

“How do you feel about Chopped?”

“Love it.” You smile, beaming up at him. You stretched your neck out and winced. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just think there’s a little kink in my neck from how we fell asleep is all.”

“Damn, that’s my fault. Want me t’rub it?”

“That would be great.”

You two adjust yourselves so he has his back against the arm rest, and you sitting between his long legs. His soft touch feels amazing on your neck and shoulders. You lean back further into him, and let out a small moan as he massages out a particular knot in the back of neck.

“Ugh, that feels so good Harry.” He adjusts himself a little, and continue to rubs your neck. His legs tighten around yours a little. You realize now what you’re doing to him, and you feel bad, honestly. You think of what you and Niall talked about the other night, but you still feel like you’re not ready. Harry lightly taps your shoulders and presses a kiss to the back of your head.

You move your arm to hook around him so you can give his hair a gentle squeeze. He presses his hips to your back side and feel him twitch against you. His hands slide down your arms and wrap around your waist. He kisses you on the cheek, down your jaw, and then down to your neck. He doesn’t waste any time to get your skin between his teeth. You lean back as far as you can into him. His hands move up your stomach a little, and stop just below your breasts. You want to give him the go ahead to touch you, but you don’t speak up.

You’re too busy practically panting from the way he’s sinking into your skin. He’s trying to show what he can do with his mouth, he has to be. You find yourself suddenly on your feet.

“Sorry, did I…did I do something wrong?” He puts his hands up. “Did I leave too big of a mark last time?”

“No, no. It’s not you, Harry. I just think, you know, it’s a work night, and I have to be up early. So I think we should stop that for tonight.”

“I barely even got to kiss you.” He says looking at you with big eyes, and his bottom lip jutting out in the cutest pout you’ve ever seen. It breaks your heart. “Can I see ya Friday night?” You sigh in relief that he’s not mad.

“Yes, of course.” He stands up and takes you in his arms. You look up at him and kiss him. He kisses you back, but only for a minute. He presses his forehead to yours.

“I know it’s only been a couple of weeks, but you’re doing something to me. I can’t quite explain it, but I like the way I feel when I’m with you.” You could keel over. A man had never been so honest with you.

“I like the way I feel when I’m with you too, Harry.”

With that he gives you one more squeeze and he’s out the door. You groan to yourself. You know you’re doing what’s best, but you just want to let him ravage you.

Harry speeds quickly to Niall’s, and lets himself in. Niall is sat on his couch in his boxers with a pint of ice cream.

“Uh, hey man?”

“Sorry for just barging in so late.”

“Did you see (y/n)?”

“Yeah.” He paces across the room and runs his hands through his hair. “We had a really nice and relaxing night, and then I did what I always do, I took it too far. But I couldn’t help it!”

“What happened?”

“I was giving her a neck rub, and it was strictly to help her out, nothing sexual. Then she moaned out ‘oh Harry that feels so good’, and I, well you know how it is when a girl says something like that.”

“So, what happened?”

“Well, she let me kiss on her, and I thought she was into it, and then all of a sudden she was telling me it was getting late. I feel terrible. I wish she felt like she could talk me through whatever happened to make her feel so uncomfortable.”

“Harry,” Niall starts, putting his ice cream down. “Listen, I can’t tell ya everything, but she has a valid reason for wanting to take it slow. If it makes you feel better, she’s really battlin’ with herself over it. She wants to give you more, but she’s scared.”

“Of me?”

“No, she’s actually amazed by you. She said it was refreshing that you’re being so cool about everything.”

“Then what is she scared of?”

“Giving it to another guy who will just leave her the next day.”

“Is that what happened with her ex?”

“Sort of, there’s a lot more to it. But that’s a story she should really tell you, not me.”

“Alright. I’m seeing her Friday, maybe she’ll feel comfortable opening up to me then. This’ll be our third week seeing each other. She makes me feel so happy, I can’t explain it.”

“Have you told her that?”

“Tonight actually.”

“Good, she’s definitely someone that needs that reassurance.”

“Good to know.”

“No offense, but did you go over there lookin’ like that?”

“It was either this or be late.” Harry raises his middle finger to his friend.

The next day you wake up like you have a hangover. You can barely get yourself out of bed. You were up all night thinking about Harry, and not in a fun way. You felt like you were lying to him or something. Today all you can put together for an outfit are some black dress pants, black flats, a white shirt, and a blush pink blazer. Today was Niall’s day to bring coffee, thank god. By the time you left the house you surely would’ve been late if you had to stop. Your coffee was waiting for you on your desk when you got there. You took it and walked down to his office. You tap on the outside of his door frame.

“Hey.” You say.

“Mornin’, come in.” He waves you in with a smile. You close his door most of the way. “Oh boy. What’s wrong?”

“Do you think I should tell him what happened? I feel like I keep sending mixed signals. I mean, when I think about it, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“(y/n), it was a big deal. You almost wasted away to nothing, and you had to see a therapist.”

“Okay, okay, so how do I explain that to him?”

“Just be honest, he’s a really understanding guy. I’m sure some clarity on his end would be good.”

“Has he mentioned anything to you?” You ask, looking down at your shoes. “Sorry, I don’t want you to be in the middle of this.”

“A little…he just wanted to make sure he wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

“He does everything right. But I thought my ex was too, and I know he’s not him, it’s just hard.”

“Maybe you should go in for a session.” You roll your eyes with disgust. “Just an idea.”

“I know you’re right, and I shouldn’t treat you like my therapist.”

“That’s not what I was sayin’. I’m just sayin’ that clearly this is still something that bothers ya.”

“I think it’ll get better once I talk to Harry. What’s on the agenda today?”

“Here, got this flash drive for ya, and a memo saying how they want these clips edited together. Work ya magic.” You take the flash drive from him and smile.

You head back down the hall to your office, and you stop short when you see someone standing in your office. He turns around, it’s Harry. He smiles warmly at you, and you smile back, a little confused.

“Mornin’.” He says to you.

“Morning.” You say, kissing him on the cheek. You put the flash drive on your desk. “What are you doing here?”

“I was in the area, and I just wanted to check in and see how you were. I was worried about you last night.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet. I’m fine. I was actually wondering if we could meet after work tonight. There’s something I want to tell you, and I don’t want it to ruin our date tomorrow.”

“Sure, but dontcha usually go to the gym after work?”

“I’m too tired for that today. I barely slept last night.” His face falls at your admission.

“Wanna meet at the coffee shop down the street from here?”

“That would be perfect.”

You get your work done, somehow. You tell Harry to just meet you by your car in the parking lot. Your knuckles are white while gripping the steering wheel. He gets in a few minutes later.

“Hi, sorry, I just wanted to talk more privately.” You say looking for at him.

“Of course, love.” You take a deep breath.

“Okay, and it may be way too soon to be talking about this since we’ve only known each other a few weeks, but I feel like you need some explanation for my behavior.” He just looks at you and gives you an encouraging smile. “So, over a year ago, I started seeing someone. We had gone on about four dates, I think. I really liked him, and I thought he liked me. I brought him back to my place on our fourth date. My hope was just to maybe make out.” You swallow. “Maybe a little more, but not go all the way.” Harry nods, his eyebrows furrowed, all his concentration on you. “But he had…other plans.” You feel your eyes start to tear up, but you swallow it back. “It started off fine, and it was like all of a sudden I was naked, and so was he. Everything happened so fast, he took out the condom faster than I could say anything. He was rough with me, and in the moment I didn’t feel safe enough to speak up to tell him to stop.” You take another deep breath. “After it was over, he kissed me goodbye and told me he’d call the next day. He didn’t call for like three days, and he broke every date we had planned.” You look away from Harry. “I basically shut down. I had never felt so used in my life. I missed a week of work. I told them I had the flu. I didn’t eat or bathe. I basically stayed in bed for an entire week. I had never felt that low in my life. It wasn’t until Niall basically broke into my apartment that I got my act together. I didn’t feel great, but I went back to work. I eventually went to therapy, it helped a lot. I learned to stop blaming myself for what happened. That guy was an asshole, and doesn’t deserve to ruin my life. But I guess ever since him I’ve been so guarded about having sex so quickly with someone, I guess out of fear of like just being used and hurt. I know there are people out there that have had worse than me, but for whatever reason this really affected me.”

You look over at Harry, and he is full on sobbing, tears staining his cheeks. He wipes his eyes with his shirt. You wipe your eyes as well. You hadn’t realized you had even started crying. He takes your hand in his, and kisses it.

“I am so sorry that happened to you. You’re so brave. And don’t compare yourself to others, what happened sounds horrible. I don’t understand how people can do things like that. I don’t understand how men can get pleasure by forcing themselves onto someone. I’m sorry if I pushed you into telling me.”

“Oh, Harry, you didn’t push me. I wanted to tell you. I feel much better now that it’s out in the open. You’ve made me feel so comfortable every time we’re together. I didn’t want you to feel like I was rejecting you.”

“I didn’t, don’t worry. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t doing something wrong.”

“I appreciate that, so much.” You smile at him. He puts a hand on your cheek, and you lean into it. “Thank you for listening.”

“Thank you for sharing your story with me.” Harry’s phone starts to ring, but he ignores it.

“You can get that, Harry.” He reaches into his pocket.

“Shit, it’s work, one sec.” He answers it. “Yeah? Oi, I left it on my desk for ya. Ya I did. Didja check again? Okay, go inta my office, yup, it’s on the left hand side. Got it? Okay good. See ya tomorrow.” He hangs up. You can’t help but notice how thick his accent got on the phone. “Sorry bout that. I swear I work with some real wankahs.” You giggle at the word. “What?”

“Nothing, I just thought that was a word only used in movies.”

“Nope, we really say it. We also say bullocks in case you were wonderin’.”

“I’ll remember that.” You laugh.

“Well, I’m sure you’re drained. You should get home and relax. What would you like to do tomorrow?”

“I’d love to come to your place again. I really liked it there.”

“Alright, whatdya say I pick ya up, and we get some food, and then go to my place.”

“I’d like that.”

“Do me a favor, let me know what you get home.”

“Alright.” You lean in and kiss him on the cheek. You linger for a moment, and then he exits out of the car.

[lexosaurus]

Everything Was White: Part 9

part [1] / [8]

read on: [ao3] [ffnet]

---

Danny glared at the space where his hand should have been, concentrating on the light tingles that ran throughout his fingers like tiny electric beads of energy. He felt the current in his fingers waver, and his hand flickered back into visibility.

That was no good. He pulled his eyebrows tighter together, willing his hand back out of the visible spectrum. 

Danny sighed in relief and allowed his arm to fall to his side. He closed his eyes, and his body relaxed into the soft carpet below him. He could feel the stress leaking from his muscles. Even his chest, which seemed constantly at war against his fried nerve endings, felt at ease.

Much better.

Danny couldn’t remember ever feeling so fake . He spent the whole day with his core under lock and key—feeling physically more human than ever—yet surrounded by teens who couldn’t see him as anything more than Phantom.

The rest of his day at the PHP had been even worse than Danny thought it would be. With each new therapy came a new opportunity for the therapists to try to get Danny to open up. And when that happened, so did the stares and the tense silences which made him very much not want to speak, but then if he didn’t speak he would have to return to inpatient, but that resulted in more stress which caused his voice to clam up and then he was stuck right where he started.

His physical therapy session hadn’t come soon enough, and when Danny finally got to the clinic, he made sure to push himself as hard as his body would allow and then some. His physical therapist had commended him on the “great day,” but Danny couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

No matter what, it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough.

Because he was still trapped.

Footsteps sounded from the staircase. He bolted upright and glanced at his wheelchair beside him. 

This was bad. This was really bad. The government was back and he had no way of escaping.

Goddamnit, if only his parents had given him access to his core, he could phase out of here and fly away. But he couldn’t do that now. He could hardly keep his fingers invisible for over a minute without breaking a sweat.

He made motions towards his chair as a plan formed in his head. A very ill-formulated plan—one that was sure to cause him to lose a few teeth—but a plan nonetheless. But just as he touched the wheels of his chair, his door flung open.

He turned, fully prepared to use what little muscular strength he’d managed to build up in his legs to launch himself over to his captors, but he froze.

The people at the door weren’t tall men in white suits and black sunglasses. There were no ecto-guns pointed at his face. There was no glowing green inhibitor ready to be clasped onto his neck.

It was Sam and Tucker, staring shyly at him in a way that reminded him of how they used to act around each other before they truly became friends.

“Hey, Danny.” Sam gave him a small wave.

“Oh.” Danny dropped his hold on his wheelchair. “Hey. Hi, guys.”

For a moment, no one said anything. Sam stared at him with eyes that were progressively getting shinier by the second, and Tucker stood with his mouth hanging open, as if he couldn’t believe Danny was there.

Danny fidgeted. There was so much unsaid emotion happening. The atmosphere was suffocating, and suddenly Danny was hyper aware of how uncomfortably he was sitting. He shifted so his legs were crisscrossed under each other and placed his arms in his lap. Maybe that would solve it. Maybe his posture was the source of his discomfort.

“Dude,” Tucker said. “Holy shit.”

“I—yeah, uh…”

Tucker shook his head. “You look...damn, what the hell did they feed you in there?”

The red package flashed in his mind, and Danny felt the blood drain from his face.

He wanted to snap at Tucker, to shout that he wasn’t a dog and turn invisible because he hadn’t seen his friends in weeks and the first thing they were going to bring up was his biggest point of shame and destruction in his life? Something so embarrassing that he hadn’t told anyone about it?

Oh. Wait.

If he hadn’t told anyone about it, then Sam and Tucker wouldn’t know about it either. He was safe, then, and Tucker wouldn’t have been referencing that thing. So then what was Tucker talking about?

He creased his eyebrows and looked down at his hands. He didn’t think he looked any different than usual. Even though the Guys in White had forced him to consume... that, it hadn’t drastically altered his appearance in the same way that his eyes would give off a light glow if he accidentally ate one of his mom’s ectoplasm-infused dinners in human form. 

His arm looked the same. It was a little thin, and his skin was a little pale, but it looked like a normal human arm. There were no globs of ectoplasm dripping from his skin, no inhuman glow encasing his form, nothing. It was just a normal arm.

He must have looked lost, because Sam supplied, “You look really healthy, Danny.”

Oh. 

Right.

He was reading too far into this. The last time Sam and Tucker had seen Danny, he was so underweight the doctors told him it was a miracle his organs were still functioning. He was on a special high-calorie diet filled with vanilla protein shakes, all with the goal of helping him regain what he lost.

It seemed like so long ago now, but it had only been a month since Danny had seen anyone outside the hospital. And so much had changed in that time.

“Oh...um, thanks?” He said, peeking at his friends from under his bangs. “I—uh...they had these...the protein—protein shakes. Made me drink them.”

“Well, you look amazing,” Sam said.

Danny felt like his face was on fire. He attempted to settle the topic with an “I’m glad you think that.”

If anything, that made their reactions ten times worse.

“Oh, Danny.” Sam sniffed, bringing one hand up to cover her mouth. “Wow.”

“What?” He blindly reached over to his wheelchair again, hoping that maybe some height would make him seem less pitiful. But before he could pull the chair closer to him, Sam sank to the floor.

“I’m sorry. I told myself I wasn’t going to do this. I promised I wasn’t gonna cry.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her fingers. “Ugh, sorry.”

“No—it’s. Um. I just...I just—” Danny tried to look at Tucker for help, but Tucker was avoiding eye contact with him now.

“I’m sorry?” Danny tried.

Sam’s eyes snapped over to his. “No! God, Danny. Don’t apologize. Please.”

“I don’t...I don’t…”

“No, it’s me, Danny. I’m sorry, it’s me.” Sam sniffed again and brushed unshed tears away from her eyes. She took a few deep breaths before glancing back over to Danny with that same damn shy expression as before.

Just what was going on right now?

“I know you don’t like being touched anymore—”

Danny grimaced. It wasn’t his fault that none of his nerve endings responded the same to physical stimulus anymore.

“—but would you mind if I hugged you? Just for a second?”

“Uh…” Danny trailed off. Since when did his friends ever ask him if it was okay to touch him? Normally they just barreled right into him, intangibility be damned. But, thinking back to his interactions with them a month before, he hadn’t really allowed them near him, did he? Of course, they invaded his room anyway, no thanks to Jazz. But even then, they always sat a respectful distance away from him on separate chairs rather than piling on his bed like they would have done before his time with the GiW.

Something churned in Danny’s gut. Had he really been that bad before that he made his own friends feel like they couldn’t have physical contact with him now?

“Sure?”

She leaned into him slowly, raising her arms up towards him as if he would break as soon as she touched him.

But he didn’t flinch, his eyes didn’t waver, and when she finally made contact with him, he didn’t pull away.

But he wanted to.

Arms wrapped around his waist, resting lightly on his back, and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had held him with such care, such tenderness. He knew his family was still keeping their distance, still unsure about how much contact he could handle, but he didn’t realize it had been this long since anyone had just...given him a hug.

And it bothered him. 

The first time he woke up in the hospital, his parents had wrapped their arms around him similarly to this. Then, he felt nothing. He spent weeks after that mulling it over, wondering if maybe deep down inside he had been angry at them for letting the Guys in White force him away. Maybe he was just another Pavlov’s dog, and he was only able to associate touch with pain now. Or maybe it wasn’t that serious, maybe he had just been too drugged up to be able to process even a simple hug.

But it couldn’t be the drugs from the hospital, because it still felt different to him. He still felt nothing.

He tried to melt into her embrace, pulling his own arms to fit around her slim body. He squeezed his eyes shut and focused on the familiar smell of her coconut shampoo, the one from that vegan company she liked so much.

“Danny,” Sam’s shaky voice sounded from his shoulder. “I missed you.”

He felt something wet touch his neck, and he tightened his hold on her, desperate to ground himself in the moment. But the dampness from her tears reminded him of the way his skin felt for those last few weeks in his cell. Never dry, always trickling with loose ectoplasm.

Get a grip, Fenturd.

“Yeah. I missed you too,” he managed to choke out. 

Sam shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“For what? You didn’t—”

“I—we tried. We tried so hard to get you out sooner. I’m sorry it didn’t work.”

He paused, then pulled back. What were they talking about? Hadn’t they organized that protest for him? What more could he have asked from them? “It wasn’t...it wasn’t your fault. I know you tried.”

Tucker shook his head. “No, dude. Like, we tried tried. We had a whole team of people—Ember, Frostbite. Hell, even Skulker—but nothing.”

“Wait, hold up.” Danny tilted his head, glancing between the duo with raised eyebrows. “Skulker? How did—how did you get Skulker? And, and Ember?”

“You remember that time last winter that Ember came over to listen to that band’s new album? ‘Cause she couldn’t do that in the Ghost Zone?”

“Yeah...she...oh, she almost got...right? The Guys in White almost got her then?” 

“Right, and you remember who came to save the day?”

“Um...it was...it was…” Danny ran his fingers through his hair. That day was fuzzy. He remembered that Ember came over, and they were listening to the album up on the roof of the Nasty Burger while eating some fries some drunk teenager handed him in the parking lot. But then, a net came out of nowhere and grabbed Ember.

And after that, everything was blank, as if someone had burned a hole in the middle of his memory.

“Skulker, I guess?”

Tucker nodded, his face contorting into an expression that Danny couldn’t read. “Skulker came. He’d been watching Ember the whole time. Didn’t want her crossing over by herself, I guess.” He grinned. “Though, if you ask me, I’d say he has a crush on—”

“Ugh, Tucker! Gross! Don’t even joke about that!” Sam scowled.

“Right, you keep thinking that!”

“No, we’re not having this conversation again!”

“Sure, Sam…”

Danny blinked, head turning between them. For the first time ever, he was on the outside of their bantering.

It felt...odd.

“Point is,” Sam continued. “Ember almost got kidnapped, and neither of us were there to help you guys. And they had the whole building surrounded in no time, mind you. But Skulker of all ghosts actually showed up, blew up the Guys in White’s van engines, freed Ember, and got you both away from there.”

“Oh. Whoa.”

“Yeah, whoa. So when he heard you were taken, he actually came to us wanting to help.”

Danny’s fingers twitched. He started to raise his arm, but then, thinking better of it, lowered his fingers down to run along the carpet. His movements were rigid, and when he spoke, his voice was tight. “And what did...him and Frostbite...what did they think they could do? Find me? Break me—break me out? And then what?”

Their silence, as well as the blanket of unease that had settled over the group, was all Danny needed as a response.

His shoulders sagged. “You couldn’t...there was no way. I tried, and that didn’t...it doesn’t matter.”

Danny felt a hand drape his shoulder, and he looked up to see Sam’s eyes fixated on him.

“It does matter, Danny. You matter to us. And we would have never forgiven ourselves if we didn’t try to get you out, even if it was impossible. You’re our friend, and we care about you.”

“Yeah.” He broke eye contact. “I’m sorry. I put you through so much and I—I didn’t think. You guys didn’t know. I mean...what—what do you guys know now? Has—has Jazz told you anything? About what happened in...in there?”

“Uh…” Tucker started. His gaze flickered over to Sam. “I mean...Jazz told us some stuff. Other stuff I think we were able to infer. Like uh...your...you know…”

Danny could feel the looming presence of his wheelchair and walker next to his bed. And apparently, so could Sam and Tucker, because suddenly their eyes were flickering between Danny and his wheelchair, and he could see the inevitable question on their lips.

Maybe they wouldn’t ask. But then again, if they did, would it really matter if they knew? They were his best friends, and friends were supposed to tell each other these things.

Hell, they’d been there for the portal, they were there during all the time’s he’d been bitten or stabbed by all sorts of unsavory characters.

Maybe it would be okay.

He took a deep breath. “That’s what happened when I tried to escape.”

Tucker froze, and Sam ripped her arm off his shoulder and brought it to her mouth, her eyes growing in size by the second.

“Holy shit, dude,” Tucker breathed.

Danny lowered his head. This was a mistake. He shouldn’t have told them. They were only going to pity him more than they already did.

“It’s fine, I’m pretty over it at this point. It’s...wanna play Doomed instead?”

“Oh...Danny...”

“How did—I mean, what did they—”

“I—I can’t remember when it happened,” Danny said.

This was a disaster. He was going to have to tell them now, which is something his therapist would be proud of because that would mean he was being open and honest with his loved ones. So he should be fine telling them, right? This shouldn’t be a big deal. 

He just had to power through this. “Everything kind of...blurred together at some point. But a guard—the guy who gave me dinner—he opened the door and I had this...this protocol…” He was fine. He could do this. 

“What was the protocol?” Sam asked.

“Um it was...it’s not important.” He remembered it too well. Stand in the back of the cell, against the wall, facing the agent. Refuse and be punished. “But there was a...he—the guard would shut the window and unlock the door. And in that—that moment, when he opened the...the door and I push—pushed him. I pushed him down. He fell, and I ran.”

“Oh no…”

“It was stupid.”

“Danny, no it wasn’t.” 

Sam went to wrap her arm around him again, but he shrugged her off, turning his head away from her.

“I wasn’t thinking. He still had his...communi...communication device in his ear. So when I turned down the—the hallway, he told...told...uh...it was over. I was—was ambushed before I knew it. Electrocuted. Dragged to a room with Operative...the head operative, and he had a metal...a metal bat I think, and it was over.”

“And they left you like that? Just beat you to the point of paralysis and then left you to rot?”

“Sam,” Tucker hissed.

“No, that’s—that can’t be legal! That’s torture! They can’t do that, even if you are half-ghost. They can’t do that!”

He frowned. “I mean, was it really a secret? What did you—did you think? When you saw me in the hospital?” 

“I don’t know.” Tucker said. “Obviously we knew something happened. It felt like every time we talked to Jazz, you were in the operating room undergoing another surgery, or you were recovering from a surgery. So we knew something happened.”

“And my speech. It’s not...not the same.”

There was another awkward silence, before Sam said, “We didn’t wanna ask. But it seems better. Than the last time we saw you, I mean.”

“It’s fine.” Danny shrugged. This was exhausting. “They think I...I, uh fell asleep on a concussion...at some point. It wouldn’t...surprise me.”

“It was that bad,” Tucker said.

“It…” Danny’s voice trailed off. He had been ready to deny it, but the proof was right in front of them. 

They were his best friends. He needed to trust them. 

Sam and Tucker were silent, probably processing everything that was happening. How all their worst fears about life inside a secret government anti-ghost compound were likely coming true. Danny could see the last of their denial leaving their face. They’d tried their best to find him, even going to Danny’s enemies like Skulker for help, with nothing but speculation to go off of, and for what? 

He’d already talked about the paralysis incident with his parents in therapy extensively . Not willingly, of course, but it was something he had to do before they would release him, and he’d really wanted to be released so he could get access to his core back.

Lot of good that did him now. He was home and still sans powers.

He thought back to that day. The therapist had already told his parents what happened—to prepare them, she’d told Danny—but that didn’t matter. They both started crying the minute Danny started the story.

It was funny how time worked. That therapy session seemed like it happened months ago. 

But even then, there were things he didn’t talk about, like how for the next few days he lay in his cell, surrounded by a pool of his ectoplasm, passing out and waking up so often that he didn’t know how much time had passed. He remembered the chilling feeling as he realized that no one was coming to help him, that he really might die there. And then he remembered when the click of the door finally sounded, revealing two operatives who stood there, ordering him to “get up, ghost.” But he couldn’t stand up, they knew he couldn’t do it. 

They had taken their time with him that day, mocking him. He was weak, pathetic, disgusting. 

“You really thought your little Houdini act would work, ghost? I know you lot are stupid, but that’s just sad.”

“Hah, are you gonna cry, ghost? Are you crying for Mommy and Daddy right now?”

He remembered that morning, and he so desperately wished he didn’t, because when the operatives were finished having their fun with him, they punished him for not following orders.

For not standing up.

Danny frowned. He still hadn’t told anyone about that. He couldn’t…

Oh, right. Sam and Tucker were still here, still living with microscopic breadcrumbs of knowledge of Danny’s reality.

What was the question again?

Danny glanced up at Tucker. “Don’t you have homework?”

“Nah,” Tucker said, waving him off. “Lancer was nice to us today.”

Danny stared at Tucker, his lips twitching upward in some poor attempt to grin, just like the old times. “You’re such a—a shit liar. You know?”

“Must be a new ghost power. Nobody can see through my charming gaze.”

Danny snorted, his mind wandering to last night. He thought this would be so easy last night, but he hadn’t exactly been in his right mind then. He was happy and full of bliss, but it was all a lie. 

Last night, he thought that telling them wouldn’t be so hard. Hell, they had seen him bloody and beaten more times than he could count. Just because this time it was done by the government, and not one of his ghostly foes...

But now the drugs had worn off, and reality was hitting him like a ton of bricks.

He knew he could tell them about some things. He could tell them about how the Guys in White would strap him down in a tube chamber, testing different chemicals on him to see how his body would react. He could tell them about how one day they surrounded him with blood blossoms to try to harness the electricity from the flowers and use it for energy.

Danny was almost thankful that one was a dead end. It turned out his ectoplasm was more powerful than the blood blossom electricity. 

But there were some things he still couldn’t say. Like the time he was strapped to a table, conscious—though barely—and taunted with metal knives and other sharp objects. He couldn’t tell them about how just minutes later, the knives were brought to his skin and he had to lie there helpless and watch the ectoplasm trickle down his chest and pool around his sides, dripping off the table and splashing against the tiled floor. How the room started blurring and then, before he knew it, he was forced into consciousness by the feeling of fire and the sight of green-stained gloves inside his body, groping around for his core.

And just how violated he felt. Like the last of his innocence had been stolen from him right along with the chunk of his core they extracted. And that was the real reason why he wasn’t allowed access to his ghost core, because it was scarred and damaged now just like the rest of his body.

Ugh, he was stupid for inviting them here. He couldn’t tell them what they wanted to know. 

This wasn’t a typical ghost fight. This wasn’t a time where he needed a few stitches in his arm, some Advil, water, and a good night’s sleep to heal. 

This was permanent.

And then there was another matter entirely, the one with the red bag. And the sight of it, the smell, and the taste and—

“Earth to Commander Fenton! Do you copy?”

Danny’s head jerked up, and he realized where he was again: in his room, tense, with two concerned faces hovering over him.

He forced his shoulders to relax. “Yeah—yeah, sorry. Just, the timeline...weird.”

Sam gave him an encouraging smile. “I know it’s a lot, but we’re here for you. We’ll stay as long as you need, homework be damned.”

“Fuck homework,” Tucker agreed. 

“Yeah.” Danny sighed. 

Reality sucked. 

“Um...”

“Danny, how did they get you?” Sam asked.

“What do you mean?” 

“When they kidnapped you. I mean, what even happened?”

“They ambushed my house. You know—I heard it made the news—and...they dragged me away. Into the van.”

“We, uh…saw some footage of that. Videos people took. You know,” Tucker said.

Danny pretended not to hear that. “My parents tried to fight them, but they pinned them down. Shot a bullet in the floor next to...to my dad. I couldn’t...fight back. Couldn’t fight back. So they put the inhibitors on me and that was it, I was done.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah, I mean, it wasn’t all bad…”

Sam wiped her eyes. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

That almost sounded like their confrontation before Danny was admitted to inpatient, before Dash caught him in the middle of a breakdown and got Lancer involved. 

“I was in my cell most of the time.”

In the darkness, with the smell of ectoplasm and the red bag permeating the air, cold and shaking, constantly fighting against his body’s pain receptors or the clawing hunger in his stomach.

“And the rest of the time?”

Danny shrugged. “It depended. Most of it wasn’t...wasn’t horrible. They didn’t do much.”

Tucker raised his eyebrows.

“I mean…” Danny shifted. He needed to give them something, or else they were just going to accuse him of lying again. “I...uh, how do I say this...at first, they mainly just wanted to understand ghost—ghost biology. You know? Typical stuff. And they had other—uh, lower level...ghosts to compare me with. Tested my ectoplasm against theirs. They realized my ectoplasm was more...potent. Because my body is more dense than an—an average ghost. I don’t know. But they would have me flat on a table...and there would be a—uh...they would take some. I would just lie there and they’d have a tube in my arm. It was...boring.”

“And then?”

“I tried to escape...and things changed. They got worse. I don’t remember most of it, but they made me...I wasn’t—I couldn’t eat anymore. I could barely move, and one of my arms was busted. I couldn’t eat, so they would...granola bars, and...it—it was red, like one for, you know—and it...they...and…” 

“There’s a good dog,” Operative O’s voice hissed in his ear. “See, was that so hard?”

Danny’s throat burned. He felt something trickle down his cheeks. Was it ectoplasm? Tears? Bile? He didn’t know. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered.

It was too hot in here. But he was so cold.

“I’m only doing my job. If you were a better trained dog, we wouldn’t have to do this, now would we? It’s not my fault we’re in this position. Don’t you get it?”

“—what was red?”

Danny flinched, startled.  “Huh?”

“The red thing?” Tucker asked. “With the granola bars?”

“Granola bars?” Danny breathed. “I don’t...I don’t remember. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I brought that up. It’s not...I don’t remember why they brought the bag in. It was probably just to collect samples. For storage. I don’t know, I’m sorry.”

Sam and Tucker exchanged a look with each other. Another silent conversation.

“Everything is jumbled. I don’t remember most of it.”

“It’s okay.” Sam plastered an obviously fake smile on her face. “We can do something else if you want?”

Danny looked down at his hand. It was shaking.

“You up for some Doomed? Or think you’re too rusty to take us dweebs on?” 

“Yeah,” Danny forced out. “Doomed sounds great. Let’s...let’s do that.”

He was fine, after all. Reality sucked but he was here and alive and with his friends who cared about him very much. He could play Doomed with them. It was his favorite game, right?

So why did he feel like there was a wall in between them? 

---

They could hear the yelling as soon as they stepped out of the elevator.

“Oh dear,” Maddie said, hesitating beside Danny. “I hope everything’s alright.”

Danny hummed in response and focused on the voices. Stretching his sensitive hearing, past the muffled babble, he was able to pick out one distinct word.

“...Ghost…”

“I think we should wait out here,” Maddie said. “At least until it’s calmed down in there.”

Danny pushed himself forward. Had he heard wrong? 

No, that was impossible. He knew what he heard.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” he said, trying to ignore the way his stomach squirmed.

Ghost. 

“Danny, I’m not sure…”

“All I have to do is sign in, anyways.” Danny pushed himself closer to the door. The voices were getting louder on the other side. He could pick out more words now from the muffled yelling.

“...unsafe...vicious...”

“It’s not like we have to—to hang around the lobby.”

“Wait, I don’t think—”

But Danny had stopped listening. His hand was already on the door handle, his heart was already thumping in his chest, and his head was already swimming with pain from his chest and back and everything else going on.

“I thought you were running a professional clinic here!” the woman’s voice on the other side cried out.

There, that was all he needed to rip open the door to the lobby, where he immediately locked eyes with the owner of the raised voice.

The woman narrowed her eyes at him. “My daughter came here to heal. I can’t sit quietly while I know she’s here with that—that thing putting her safety at risk!”

Whatever Danny was about to say, whatever half-baked plan he had constructed in the corners of his curiosity vanished in an instant. He looked up at the woman twice his height, her finger extended out to him, scorn etched on her features, and Danny shut down.

That thing, his brain echoed. He was just a thing. Just some piece of trash kicked off the sidewalk into the street where cars could run over him.

He used to be something back before he stupidly outed himself on national television. Someone admired by most in the town. A ghost, sure, but a ghost with a purpose. 

But not anymore.

The therapist swiftly moved between them. “Danny,” she said gently. “Please wait out—”

That thing.

He wasn’t human. Hell, he wasn’t even a ghost. What was he? What right did he have to be here?

“How dare you,” came his mother’s voice from behind him. “That is my son you’re talking about. How dare you imply—”

“And you, what the hell were you thinking? Enrolling your science experiment in—”

“He is a child!”

No. No he wasn’t.

Danny felt someone push him away from the raised voices, but he couldn’t see where they were going. All he could see was the expression the woman had on her face.

Disgust.

Repulsion.

Fear.

That was it. She was afraid of him, wasn’t she?

Maybe...maybe Operative O was right. Maybe all those days being tested and tortured were for something. Maybe they were all right back in the compound.

Maybe he was just a rabid dog.

A door closed behind him, and one part of his brain played the sound of his cell doors shutting in the Guys in White facility—that soft click bouncing off the walls of his mind—while the other part of his brain reminded him that he wasn’t there he was outside the compound where the government couldn’t get him, but then that was a lie too because he would never escape them, not really.

There was a therapist in front of him now. She was talking to him, Danny was sure of it. He could see her lips moving and he could hear a voice in the room but he couldn’t understand what she was saying. The words didn’t make sense together. It was just noise, just like everything else. It didn’t matter. It was noise.

His core thrummed in his chest, and he could feel the prickles of intangibility dance along his fingertips. More than anything, his core wanted to escape. To get away. Fly out the window and soar through the sky. Who cares if anyone saw him? It wasn’t like his leaving the hospital was a secret any longer. By tonight, the woman from the lobby would be all over the news, telling the story of how she only narrowly escaped the sharp claws of that rabid animal known as Danny Phantom. The disgusting, vile ghost masquerading as a human teen. How horrid that he’d managed to infiltrate a PHP program to prey on the defenseless, traumatized teens.

Everyone was going to know about him now.

Nothing mattered.

The therapist moved in closer to him, her lips still moving. He made eye contact with her, and she nodded encouragingly. But it didn’t matter.

There was no more hiding. No more running away.

Danny Phantom was back.

He was a monster.

“There’s a good dog.”

<previous / next>

[vintagedolan]

mixtape: the b-sides

welcome to mixtape, the b-sides! these are little blurbs/bonus content related to mixtape, which you can read here. these little snippets are just for fun, and you don’t have to read them to follow the story! but, if you want to see all of them in one place, check them out here

track: wildfire by ben rector

Author’s Note: this is gray and indy’s first morning in jersey :’) andddd it’s dedicated to the wonderful mar, aka @sunshineforgray because her sweet words actually broke me out of my writers block hope you enjoy!!

Indiana hadn’t slept in many beds with many boys. It wasn’t that she was opposed to it - the opportunity just hadn’t really risen. She was usually ‘married to her books’ as her dad always said, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have a few high school flings that fizzled out. But not before she managed to sneak them into her house at least once for some nerve-ridden nights under the sheets.

But damn if she didn’t know that she was ruined for any boy that dared come after Grayson Bailey Dolan as soon as she woke up. It took her a minute to orient to where she was as she looked around - unfamiliar walls, a tan dresser, a shirt. Grayson’s. She was in Jersey.

It clicked then, and she remembered the night before, coming inside from their sweet moment on the swing to a quiet house, her shower, climbing into bed with him. 

They’d made it under the covers at some point and fallen asleep - her hoodie had ridden up around her chest, Grayson’s warm arm wrapped around her entirely, holding it in place. His hand was tucked under her ribs to hold her against him, which made it difficult, but not impossible to twist around to face him.

He grumbled at her movements, brows knitting together as he shifted, arm tightening against her back and pinning her to him. She brought her hands to his chest, tracing her fingertips over his warm skin. There were a few spots, little white flecks across his skin that seemed to be fading away. She found a few scars in her search, little tribulations to moments passed. Her favorite discovery was the slightly coarse, short regrowth of his chest hair - had he shaved it? She wondered why, but only for a moment, because then he was really moving, his other arm coming up to stretch out as he buried his face in his elbow. 

His eyes were puffy when he finally opened them, and he blinked hard a few times - she could practically see the wheels turning in his head as the night before came back to him. And then he was smiling his sleepy smile, the one that only had the energy to lift the corners of his lips up a tiny bit and squint his eyes shut. She wiggled up, only managing to get where she wanted to be when he caught on and flexed his arm, pulling her up onto his chest as he rolled onto his back. She licked her dry lips before she pressed them against his, soft and welcoming as the song of the birds that were starting to rouse outside. 

“Good morning,” he hummed, chest rumbling a bit with the bass of it. “What time is it?”

She reached for his arm, turning his wrist and reading his watch. 

“8:34,” she mumbled, relaxing down against him, cheek on his chest as he breathed.

“So we’re both early risers. Good to know. Couple goals.” 

She scoffed against him, but it was for show. It was nice to have a subtle confirmation that she hadn’t dreamed up everything from the evening before. They basked in the silence for a moment and Indy found herself tracing letters again, feather light touch over his ribs. I-N-D-Y. And then D-E-E. 

“Dee.”

“Hmm?”

“That’s what you wrote, right? D-E-E.”

She nodded against him with a smile.

“Write something, I’ll try to guess,” she said. She went to roll her sleeve up, but he had other plans. His hand moved to her back, up under her hoodie to land on soft skin. She focused in on the feeling, tried to visualize what he was drawing.

W-A-R-M.

“I’m warm huh? That’s a first. It’s only cause you’re a space heater though.”

“Your turn.”

She wrote a bit faster against his chest.

C-O-F-F

“Hey, take it easy, I’m dyslexic. Gotta give me a chance,” he frowned, making her press a kiss to his shoulder quickly to muffle her laugh. She started over, slower this time. 

C-O-F-F-E-E.

“That can be arranged,” Grayson smiled. “You need it now? Or can we stay in bed a little longer.” 

“I could probably be persuaded,” she mused, scrunching her nose at him before both his arms snaked around her shoulders, trapping her there. He craned his neck forward to kiss her a few times before he thought of a better option, rolling her over so she was underneath him. She was pretty sure it was the best view that anyone could ever have - her shirtless boyfriend above her, chain hanging down, chilly against her neck when he leaned down and peppered kisses across her face. She eventually caught his lips and convinced him to stay there for a moment, long enough for her to get her hand into his hair, making him hum against her.

“We’re having sleepovers every night. No exceptions,” he breathed.

“My bed’s comfier,” she giggled, chasing after his lips as his hands roamed, so big that she felt like they could wrap around her.

Indy didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but eventually she was on her side facing him and his hand traced down to her hip. His eyes shone hazel in the light that peeked in through the window, showing off flecks of gold and green. 

“What do you have on the agenda today?”

“Gotta study for my medical terminology quiz, read for bio, and study for my anatomy exam. And then Bekah later.”

“Shit. So I need to get you back to your place then.”

Her knee jerk reaction was to say yes, but there was a disappointed understanding in his voice that had her resolve wavering. Sure, she’d have to grind to get it all done but…

“I can stay for breakfast. If you’re cooking.” 

“Really?” His eyes lit up, a wide smile stretching across his face.

“Depends on what you’re making.”

“I’ll make whatever you want, as long as it’s vegan.” 

“I’m not much of a breakfast person actually, so I’m down for anything.”

He mocked offense, bringing his hand to his chest dramatically.

“Oh you will be after my vegan french toast.”

“That a promise?”

“Fuck yeah it is,” he laughed, burying his face in her neck one last time before he rolled off, standing up and stretching out. She knew she was staring, but she didn’t care. The way his muscles moved under his skin was mesmerizing - she could have watched it for another hour, but he reached out for her hand and coaxed her out of bed. She headed down the hallway behind him, down the stairs and into the kitchen. 

There was a morning chill over the house that she tried to fight off by sticking close to Grayson until he started to move around the kitchen, gathering a bowl, a pan, bread, some vegan egg replacement from the fridge. 

“Is that oat milk?” It caught her eye in the fridge door. 

“Yeah, that’s the good shit.”

“You want coffee?”

He nodded, smiling as she snuck behind him and grabbed the bottle from the fridge.

Indy had always imagined this - an early morning with a boy, the whole throwing-flour-at-each other and over the top flirting trope sticking in her head from cheesy pinterest pictures and unrealistic movies. Still, she wanted it. But that morning, it wasn’t like the pictures, or the movies. She went around the corner and made the lattes, spending extra time on Grayson’s to make sure it was perfect. And he put a little extra cinnamon on her french toast, made sure it was prepped just the right way.

And somehow, it was better. 

Probably because when she came around the corner with the mugs and climbed up onto the counter, Grayson took his spare hand and rested it on her thigh, rubbing soft circles with his thumb. The conversation moved easily after that, only broken up by pauses for sips of coffee and toast transfers. 

Gray suggested breakfast on the porch, but not until he’d found an old blanket in the chest in the living room for Indy to put over her shorts-clad legs. They ended up sharing it, throwing it over their laps as they sat shoulder to shoulder on the bench with their plates balanced carefully. Grayson watched her take her first bite, a prideful smile spreading across his face when she groaned.

“Holy shit that’s good. Is that your recipe?”

He nodded, ignoring the nagging thought in his head that Ethan had definitely been a part of that development.

“Told you so.” He nudged her shoulder.

Grayson finished his toast before Indy had even moved on to her second piece, but he didn’t mind. He just sat there with her, leaned against her, laughed quietly to himself when she wiggled a bit as she ate - he’d heard that girls did that, but he’d never actually seen it. 

Eventually the plates were moved to the side and the mugs emptied, and they found themselves in each other’s arms again, watching the rest of the woods wake up.

“Do you like being out here? In Jersey?”

She nodded against his shoulder. “It’s a good break, from the city.” 

“Good, cause I like having you out here. It’ll be even better when I have my own place instead of being at mom’s,” he mused. Indy perked up at that with a frown.

“I like your mom.” 

“I know, it’s nothing against her. I just like having you all to myself.” 

Her cheeks were warm again.

“Well, you have me all to yourself right now,” she teased, quirking an eyebrow at him. He gave her a devious grin, hand moving down her thigh so he could pull her over practically into his lap. 

“I could get used to that.”

[godzillasrighttoe]

Anguirus's surprise birthday party

Damn that title is kinda bland ngl

(Since Anguirus's birthday is today, I decided that I would make this without planning how I'm gonna write it just before it's irrelevant. Also, all the kaiju in here are supposed to be the kaiju from Final Wars, not their other appearances in the Showa era. Also, since I ship Orga and Megaguirus I decided that this year they're gonna be having a baby lol. And this also takes place in the gijinka universe)

Final Wars Goji:Ok guys, so here's the plan. I will pick up Anguirus from his home so that we can hang out for the day and while we're doing so and so you guys break into my house and start decorating. I'll leave the key under the door for you guys to unlock it.

Orga:bruh we don't even got decorations yet

Final Wars Goji:𝙩 𝙝 𝙚 𝙣 𝙗 𝙪 𝙮 𝙩 𝙝 𝙚 𝙢 𝙨 𝙝 𝙞 𝙩 𝙨

Orga:Are we even gonna have time to buy them?

Final Wars Goji:

Final Wars Goji:𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗽𝗶𝗱

Millennium Goji:I feel like we shouldn't be insulting each other and we should actually be planning this out. How about we assign who's gonna do what for the party?Such as decorating, baking the cake, shit like that.

Kumonga:Ooh!I can shoot webs as decoration!

Final Wars Goji:𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗻 𝗼 𝗯 𝗼 𝗱 𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘀𝗵𝗶𝘁 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘂𝗽 𝗶𝗻 𝗺𝘆 𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗲

Millennium Goji:Yeah, this isn't a Halloween party, dude.

Gigan:Ay, Final Wars, how would you feel if I shot lasers into your walls and wrote "Happy Birthday" out of it as decoration?

Final Wars Goji:

Monster X:Oh!And then I can add "Anguirus" to it!

Final Wars Goji:𝙒𝙃𝙔 𝘿𝙊 𝙔'𝘼𝙇𝙇 𝙒𝘼𝙉𝙉𝘼 𝘿𝙊 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙎 𝙏𝙊 𝙈𝙔 𝙃𝙊𝙐𝙎𝙀-

Monster X:𝘄𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘂𝗴𝗹𝘆 𝗮𝘀𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘄𝗮𝘆

Kiryu:How about when Anguirus walks in we say happy birthday and then start playing a bass boosted version of The Anguirus Song?

Orga:That's a good idea, but how about not bass boosted?Matter of fact, why did you even say that?

Kiryu:I don't know, I thought it would be funny. In my head.

Orga:𝗱𝗮𝘄𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗵𝘂𝗺𝗼𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝗯𝗿𝗼𝗸𝗲𝗻

King Caesar:𝙃𝙄𝙎 𝙎𝙀𝙉𝙎𝙀 𝙊𝙁 𝙃𝙐𝙈𝙊𝙍 𝙄𝙎 𝙊𝙉 𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝙉 𝙐 𝙏 𝙎 𝙃 𝙄 𝙏

Kiryu:𝗕𝗜-

Millennium Goji:Alright, that's ENOUGH!How about we just buy stuff we need and come back in the morning?

Mothra Imago:I'll get cake ingredients!

Orga:𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗮𝘀𝘀

Mothra Imago:

Kiryu:Tbh, you shouldn't be talking because first off, Mothra isn't even fat and second, 𝗻𝗴𝗹 𝗠𝗲𝗴𝗮𝗴𝘂𝗶𝗿𝘂𝘀 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗮 𝗯𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗴𝗻𝗮𝗻𝘁😳

Orga:

Kiryu:

Everyone else in the room:

Orga:𝗔𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗽𝗶𝗱

Kiryu:I mean, not gonna cap, she's been eating just a bit too much for a pregnant woman. Fuck cravings and shit, that's not normal. Sometimes I think that she's trying to kill the baby.

Orga:𝗯𝗿𝗼-

Millennium Goji:ANYWAY, all of you can now LEAVE now and go get stuff for the party tomorrow. Especially you, Kiryu. You're a dumbass. I hate to defend Orga in this situation, but it's true.

Kiryu:

Kiryu:Ok...

(Next day lol)

Millennium Goji:Ok guys, what do you all have to offer so that we can start decorating-

Orga:You always talkin' bout we. 🄸 🄰🄸🄽'🅃 🄽🄴🅅🄴🅁 🄵🅄🄲🄺 🅆🄸🅃 🄽🄸🄽🅃🄴🄽🄳🄾.

Millennium Goji:

Millennium Goji:And when did I ask?𝗠 𝗮 𝗻 𝗹 𝗮 𝗶 𝗱 𝗼 𝘂 𝘁 𝗮 𝘄 𝗵 𝗼 𝗹 𝗲 𝗽 𝗮 𝗿 𝗮 𝗴 𝗿 𝗮 𝗽 𝗵

Orga:that was like 2 sentences tf-

Rodan:Ay, you wanted me to show what I bought, right?

Millennium Goji:

Millennium Goji:Yeah?

Rodan:I bought wrapping paper so that we can wrap the presents we all bought Anguirus!

Millennium Goji:That's all?

Gigan:Bold of you to assume we bought him anything.

Orga:Why is everybody talking about we?!?Once again, 🄸 🄰🄸🄽'🅃 🄽🄴🅅🄴🅁 🄵🅄🄲🄺 🅆🄸🅃-

Gigan:𝗡𝗼𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲𝘀, 𝗢𝗿𝗴𝗮. 𝗦𝗼 𝗶𝗺𝗺𝗮 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗵𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗕 𝗨 𝗟 𝗟 𝗦 𝗛 𝗜 𝗧 𝘂𝗽, 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗲𝗳.

Orga:

Orga:ok

Millennium Goji:Gigan, did you buy anything?

Gigan:no I'm broke

Gigan:jk I didn't wanna buy anything lol

Millennium Goji:𝗕 𝗶 𝘁 𝗰 𝗵 .

Kiryu:I bought the happy birthday decoration.

Millennium:Oh, ok. So did I though...

Kiryu:

Millennium Goji:

Kiryu:So what we bout to do?

Orga:STOP TALKING ABOUT WE!!!🇮  🇦  🇮  🇳  ' 🇹 🇳  🇪  🇻  🇪  🇷  🇫  🇺  🇨  🇰  🇼  🇮  🇹  🇳  🇮  🇳  🇹  🇪  🇳  🇩  🇴 

Everyone else in the room:SHUT UP!!!

(Meanwhile with Final Wars Goji)

*Final Wars Goji knocks on Anguirus's door*

*No answer*

Final Wars Goji:Anwser that door, man!Come on!

*Anguirus opens the door*

Anguirus:Godzilla!

Final Wars Goji:Anguirus!

*They hug*

Final Wars Goji:Happy Birthday, man!

Anguirus:Awww, thanks!I actually can't believe that I'm 25 now!

Final Wars Goji:I know, right?You're so old now!

Anguirus:Not really though. Because aren't you like 30?

Final Wars Goji:27.

Anguirus:Old enough. Hahaha!

Final Wars Goji:hahaha 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝘂𝗻𝗻𝘆 hahaha

Anguirus:Huh?

Anguirus:

Final Wars Goji:

Anguirus:Dude, you LITERALLY old shamed me so when I do it back you say it's not funny.

Final Wars Goji:Anguirus, this is weird. Here's your birthday card.

Anguirus:Oh, thanks!Wanna hang out now?

Final Wars Goji:Sure!Heh...

(Back to the party setup)

Millennium Goji:Ok guys!What all have you gotten set up?

Rodan:I've hung up some decorations!

Baragon:I've wrapped some of his presents!

Kamacuras:I'm making beans!

Millennium Goji:The fuck?Why?

Kamacuras:Anguirus likes them.

Ebirah:𝘀𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝗱𝗲 𝗕𝗘𝗘𝗘𝗘𝗘𝗘𝗔𝗡𝗦 𝘄𝘁𝗳

Millennium Goji:Has anybody else done anything?

Mothra Imago:Me and the boys are about to bake the cake!

Gigan:Don't ever sat that shit again.

Mothra Imago:I- I'm not even trying to be funny.... it's literally me and the boys...

Gigan:I don't care, shut up.

Mothra Imago:Rude!

Gigan:How?𝗴𝗼𝗱𝗱𝗮𝗺𝗻 𝘀𝗡𝗼𝗪𝗳𝗟𝗮𝗞𝗲

Kiryu:imagine if we sliced up gigan's dick and put it on the cake as a decoration for being volatile

Gigan:

Mothra Imago:

Orga:

Millennium Goji:

Kiryu:What?

Millennium Goji:*sighs* Ghost Goji is taking over again, huh?

Kiryu:*sighs*Yeah... when I said that it felt like 𝗜 𝗹𝗲𝗳𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗰𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗜𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗜𝗫𝗧𝗛 𝗗𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗦𝗜𝗢𝗡~

Kiryu and Gigan:𝙇𝙀𝙁𝙏 𝙈𝙔 𝙎𝙊𝙐𝙇 𝙄𝙉 𝙃𝙄𝙎 𝙑𝙄𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉 𝙇𝙀𝙏'𝙎 𝙂𝙊 𝙂𝙀𝙏 𝙄𝙏 𝘼𝙃 𝘼𝙃 𝙇𝙀𝙏'𝙎 𝙂𝙊 𝙂𝙀𝙏 𝙄𝙏 𝘼𝙃 𝘼𝙃

Orga:𝗱𝗮𝗺𝗻𝗻𝗻𝗻𝗻 𝘆'𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗴𝗮𝘆𝘆𝘆𝘆𝘆

Mothra Imago:And is there anything wrong with that?!?Like-

Orga:𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗹

Mothra Imago:HEY!!!Why is everyone so mean to me today?!?

Kiryu:I'm not!I'd never be mean to you!

Orga:simp

Gigan:Who the fuck still says "simp" anymore?The word is kinda dead...

Kiryu:Hey, I have a joke relating to the word "simp".

Gigan:Hm?

Kiryu:Take the "s" and "m" out of it and add it to Orga's name.

Gigan:Huh?O-

Orga:I don't understand- bruh.

*Millennium Goji laughs*

Mothra Imago:What's the joke?

Kiryu:Orgasm.

Mothra Imago:Inappropiate!

Millennium Goji:Then don't listen. It's that easy. Plus we're all adults.

Kiryu:Well, I'm 17. I'll be 18 next month.

Mothra Imago:Then why are you making these jokes?!?

Kiryu:Because I'm almost an adult?

Gigan:bruh are we gonna start baking orrr

Orga:Yep!

*Orga dumps all of the ingredients onto the baking table*

Gigan:ORGA!!!WHAT THE HELL!!!

Orga:?

Kiryu:𝙒𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁𝙐𝘾𝙆, 𝙍𝙄𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙍𝘿?

Orga:Why is are you two against me all of a sudden?

Gigan:THE EGGS WERE IN THERE!!!YOU DUMBASS!!!

Orga:ohhhhh

Orga:𝗜 𝗴𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝘄𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗻 𝘃𝗲𝗴𝗮𝗻 𝗰𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻.

Millennium Goji:No!!!We can't make it VEGAN!!!Anguirus HATES vegans and their food!!!

Orga:The fuck?Why?

Millennium Goji:It has something to do with his mother who isn't approving of his sexuality, apparently.

Orga:bruh we got like 2 hours left before Final Wars comes back the cake is gonna be vegan

Millennium Goji:2 HOURS?!?HOW?!?

Gigan:And you're acting like it's the end of the world.

Kiryu:bruh we don't even know if the eggs are broken or not

Gigan:They are!All of them!Don't you see it dripping out of the bag?

*Kiryu looks at the bag*

Kiryu:oh shit lol

Gigan:Now what?!?

Orga:WE MAKE THE VEGAN CAKE!!!

Gigan:NO!!!

(Meanwhile with Final Wars Goji and Anguirus)

Anguirus:I can't believe you would spend your whole day with me on my birthday!

Final Wars Goji:Yeah... mainly because I wanna spend more time with you anyway.

Anguirus:Oh, really?

Final Wars Goji:Yeah... for the rest of my life.

Anguirus:Oh, I'd be looking forward to doing that also... heh...

*Silence*

Final Wars Goji in his mind:𝗜 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗮 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗲, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁'𝘀 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗮𝘆...

Final Wars Goji:Is this coming off in a cheesy way?

Anguirus:

Anguirus:I love everything you do. When you call me fuckin' dumb for the stupid shit I do. Wanna ride my bike with you. Fully undressed, no trainin' wheels left for youuuuuuuu!~ I'll pull them off for youuuuuuuu!Hey, I love that song!

Final Wars Goji:Oh, you do?

Anguirus:Yeah!

Final Wars Goji:Oh, so do I. Imagine if that was our theme song if we were in love.

Anguirus:I mean... it could be...

*More silence*

Anguirus:What, are you trying to say something?

Final Wars Goji:Uh-*blushes*

*Final Wars Goji remembers about the party*

Final Wars Goji:Hey, there's something I wanna show you. At my house. It's another gift.

Anguirus:Ooh!I can't wait!Take me to your house!

Final Wars Goji:Ok, by the way you get distracted SOOOOO easily.

Anguirus:Oh, so there's no gift?

Final Wars Goji:There is, I wouldn't just give you a birthday card. I was just pointing that out. We can go to my house now.

Anguirus:Ok!

(Back at Final Wars Goji's house)

*Mothra Imago, Gigan, Kiryu, and Orga are playing Uno while everyone else is making sure everything looks right*

*Orga puts down his second to last card*

Orga:Hah!Uno!

Kiryu:DAMNIT!

*Kiryu bangs the table*

Orga:Hoes mad.

Kiryu:I'M NOT A HOE!Does anybody have a card to make him draw???

Gigan, who's before Orga, and has a +4 in his deck:*laughs to himself*HAHAHAHAHAHA 𝗻𝗼.

Mothra Imago:*sighs*Oh well... I guess you win Orga.

Orga:Hahaha!

*Mothra puts down a card*

*Kiryu puts down a card in disappointment*

Orga:Gigan, are you gonna put a card down?

*Gigan laughs*

Orga:Why are you laughing?Wait...

Gigan:HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Orga:GIGAN PLEASE!!!HAVE MERCY!!!

Gigan:𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍𝙀 𝙄𝙎 𝙉𝙊 𝙈𝙀𝙍𝘾𝙔

*Gigan puts down his +4*

Orga:*high pitch screaming*

*Millennium Goji comes rushing over*

Millennium Goji:GUYS!!!Final Wars is on his way back!!!He's almost here!!!

Gigan:But our Uno game!-

Millennium Goji:𝙄 𝘿𝙊𝙉'𝙏 𝙂𝙄𝙑𝙀 𝘼 𝙁𝙐𝘾𝙆. Start tidying up before it's lights out!!!Is the cake ready?

Mothra Imago:Yep!Already decorated, too.

Orga:𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘃 𝗲 𝗴 𝗮 𝗻 𝘀 𝗵 𝗶 𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘆

Kiryu:Well, it's not vegan. Remember how we still used the crushed up eggs and took out all of the egg shells but when we did Gigan picked some of it up and dumped it all on my head for no reason so I said "More daddy!~" so that he would stop?

Orga:oh yeah lol

Millennium Goji:𝗟𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗦 𝗢 𝗨 𝗧

*Millennium Goji turns off the lights*

*Kiryu screams*

*Millennium Goji turns the lights back on*

Millennium Goji:Kiryu, are you ok?

Kiryu:What are you talking about?That was Gigan.

Gigan:𝗕𝗶𝘁𝗰𝗵, 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁?

Kiryu:Don't even play, Gigan.

Gigan:Ok...

Millennium Goji:Um...anyway.

*Millennium Goji turns the lights off again*

*Gigan moans*

*Millennium Goji turns the lights back on*

Millennium Goji:DUDE-

Gigan:THAT WAS KIRYU!!!

Millennium Goji:NO IT WASN'T!!!If another one of you makes another sound when I turn the lights 𝗜'𝗺 𝗴𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗮 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗪𝗪𝗜𝗜 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮 𝗰𝗮𝗿 𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁.

*Millennium Goji turns off the lights again*

Gigan:*impersonates Doja Cat*ᗪᗩᗰᑎ ᑭᗩᑭᗩ YOᑌ ᗩ ᖇᗩᖇᗴ ᗷᖇᗴᗴᗪ-

*Millennium Goji turns the lights on again*

Millennium Goji:THAT'S IT-

*Millennium Goji kicks Gigan

Gigan:OW!!!

Kiryu:ᵈᴀᵐɴ ᵖᴀᵖᴀ ʸᴏᵘ ᴀ ˢᴄᵃʀʸ-

(Meanwhile outside)

*Final Wars Goji is covering Anguirus's eyes with his hands*

Anguirus:Lmao why do my eyes have to be covered if we're going in your house?Is it something that I can see through the window?

Final Wars Goji:It's special.

Anguirus:Ok, whatever you say...

*They reach his house and Final Wars Goji unlocks the door*

Final Wars Goji:Open your eyes!

*Anguirus opens them*

*Millennium Goji turns on the lights*

Everyone except for Gigan:SURPRISE!!!

Gigan:*blows a party horn*

Anguirus:WOW!I was not expecting this!!!Thank you so much guys!

Final Wars Goji:And it was all planned by me!

Anguirus:Awww, thanks Final!Can I get to my cake now?

Millennium Goji:Sure!Do you wanna cut it first-

Anguirus:There is no future. There is no past. Do you see?Time is simultaneous, an intricately structured jewel that humans insist on viewing one edge at a time when the whole design is visible in every facet.

Everyone else in the room:

Millennium Goji:All I asked was if you wanted to cut your birthday cake first.