#bret: if you want me to blow you just ASK

[not-ur-boy-toy]

Hartbreak Ranch Chapter 1

AN: FINALLY Chapter 1 of Hartbreak Ranch, I really hope you enjoy it! (btw I'm bad at explaining plots so apologies :,) )

Plot: Shawn is a famous model on his way to a new photoshoot. However, he finds himself getting stuck in the middle of nowhere. Luck just has it though as he finds himself staying with the Hart family, finding himself being drawn to a certain Bret Hart.

TW: Foul language, Alcohol mentioned

Word count: 3.6K

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Blond hair flowed freely through the wind as the bright, cherry-red Ferrari 308 drove down the desolate Arizona road. Music blared from the car as it raced through the empty route. The driver of it didn’t have a care in the world as he held a phone to his ear, his free hand on the steering wheel.

“Diesel! Trust me here, I’m doin’ fine, I know where I’m going!”, a laugh rang through the car, as the man spoke, his grin large as he kept his eyes on the road. 

“I know you know where you’re going, Shawn... But you’re in the middle of nowhere” the other voice rang through the phone before continuing, “You’ve already said you’re taking a ’shortcut’ but I just don’t think It’s a good idea!” the voice argued back, trying to reason with the stubborn man.

Shawn rolled his eyes before a soft huff left his lips, he was used to his bodyguard being overprotective, they always traveled together! Wherever Shawn went, a 6’10, hunk-of-a-man followed him. But not this time. The young 30-year-old man wanted to travel by himself! He knew the area reasonably well… maybe just enough to get him to the closest town and ask for directions. But Diesel didn’t have to know! 

“Diesel, Hun, Big Daddy Coolio, I’ll be fine, I’ll be there for Ramon’s photoshoot with what's-his-face…” Shawn hummed to himself, rambling softly to himself as he tried to figure out who he was working with again. Before he could even figure out the guy’s name, Diesel’s deep voice rang through his phone again.

“You’re working with Kid, Ramon’s toyboy or whatever.”

“Riight… That guy, yeah, I won't miss it, anyway, gotta go, phone is gonna die, Byyee!” And just like that, with a small click, Shawn hung up the phone before Diesel could say goodbye. He carefully tossed his phone to the empty passenger seat before adjusting the thick, black sunglasses on his face, humming along to the music on the radio. It had been a glorious drive so far. No traffic, the sun was hot, there were no clouds in the sky… and there was nobody to annoy him- other than Diesel every 15 minutes. 

It was definitely a perfect drive, yet there was one small problem. Fuel. Shawn’s trusty lady was running low, and the next gas station was a good 50 miles out, but there was a small town coming up in a few miles. It was a risk to turn off into the town. There was the chance there was no gas station in the town in the middle of nowhere. But there was just a nagging feeling, something that just drew Shawn’s attention to this town. It just seemed to call his name, and who was he to ignore that feeling? Shawn stepped on the gas, dust blowing behind the wheels as he sped up, going way past the speed limit before he reached the town that seemed to hypnotize him.

Shawn wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he drove through the town. He was used to the luxurious life, like main cities from New York to Los Angeles… but this was beyond different. It was small, tiny, barely anything compared to what he was accustomed to. There wasn’t anything branded, no hotels with infinity pools, no Prada stores, nothing! There was barely anything in this town other than small boutiques, a few restaurants and a few small businesses, as well as a few houses.

“There has to be a gas station in this place…” Shawn mumbled to himself, trying to distract himself away from the feeling he had awhile ago.

Driving around aimlessly didn’t seem to get Shawn anywhere, there wasn’t a gas station in sight, and his car didn’t have enough fuel by the sounds of it as it seemed to hiss and moaning from his beloved Ferrari. However, what Shawn didn’t expect though was the sight of smoke appearing from underneath the hood of his car. He hadn’t realized how hot it was in this place. 

“Shit, Shit, SHIT!” Shawn gasped out, quickly pulling up to the side, and turning off his car. He scrambled to get out of his car with urgency, slamming the door shut. Shawn quickly moved to the front of the car, lifting the hood with a slight hiss of pain from how hot the metal was and how smokey the engine was. He drafted away most of the dark smoke with a small cough before moving back.

“Son of a bitch!” he hissed out in anger, kicking his car slightly with his black leather boot. Oh, how Diesel was right about taking this shitty shortcut. He could see Diesel’s smug face in his mind, which pissed him off more. He hated being wrong. He couldn’t stand it. Rubbing the stubble on his face in frustration, Shawn paced in circles in front of his car, kicking slightly at the dirt on the floor. What the fuck was he supposed to do? Shawn’s blue eyes glanced around, looking at the almost empty street, seeing a few people staring his way before looking away as he looked at them. They weren’t gonna help, clearly. Shawn grunted slightly before slamming the hood down. He had to figure something out, but calling Diesel was not one of them. He could try to find a mechanic, but it meant he had to leave his sweet, beloved Ferrari behind for now… with a reluctant, annoyed huff, Shawn grabbed what he needed from his car, his phone, wallet and keys, before starting his walk to find a mechanic.

Instantly, Shawn knew he was out of place as he walked down the street. He was dolled up in his finest clothes, that being a white, open-shirt bought from Polo Ralph Lauren, khaki brown pants from the same place, his favorite Gucci belt in black and gold and finally his favorite pair of black leather boots, ones with a small heel. Of course, he had a few accessories, like a gold watch and matching earrings. He wouldn’t leave the house without them! This was one of his more ‘casual’ outfits, something he would wear to go shopping in New York. But being in this town? It looked like he was overdressed and everyone walking by gave him a second look. Now, Shawn loved the attention. He loved having people’s eyes on him. People would even say he craved it, but the looks he was being given now, it was more looks of judgment. Shawn mindlessly messed with his shirt, trying to flatten down invisible creases, trying to distract himself from the looks. A mechanic couldn’t be too far away.

A few minutes' walk eventually turned into a 15-minute walk into the town. He had passed more small shops including a bakery (which looked heavenly, from the strawberry cakes that looked freshly made to the croissants that Shawn would have loved to buy), a few cafes, a general store and even a liquor store which he kept in mind. Luckily, he had eventually found the town's repair shop. It looked like an older building, the corners of the building being rusted, yet a new sign in black and neon pink stood out on the building, reading out ‘Hart & Co. Auto Repair’. Loud country music was blasting, and the smell of oil and rubber burnt Shawn’s nose slightly, something he definitely wasn’t used to. As he entered the small shop, he noticed a pair of blue overall cover legs underneath a truck and humming coming from the person. He glanced around the shop, trying to spot anyone else in there, but no one else was in the small space, not even a customer. Shawn cleared his throat, trying to get the person’s attention, but it didn’t seem to catch the guy's attention.

“Excuse me? Hey” Shawn spoke up, moving closer, yet there was still no response. “Hey!” he continued in a louder tone, which seemed to catch the person’s attention.

“Shoot, hold on!” The mechanic yelled out from under the truck, finally rolling out from under the truck. The man who rolled out was quite young-looking, younger than Shawn, and had a baby face. He had blonde hair up to his shoulders and bright blue eyes. Of course, his sun-kissed skin was dotted with some splotches of oil and some sort of grime, and the blue jumpsuit he wore was covered in oil and dirt. Shawn looked at the name tag the other wore, barely seeing the name ‘Owen’ under an oil splotch.

Owen carefully stood up, wiping his hands on a cloth he had in his pocket before smiling at the man in his shop and holding a hand to him.

“Hi! Sorry about that. I hope you haven’t been waiting too long. I’m Owen. What can I help you with?” Owen asked, his voice surprisingly soft and surprisingly, not an Arizona accent either.

Shawn eyed up Owen’s hand beneath his sunglasses before looking back at the man’s face before taking off the shades. He gave Owen one of his charming smiles before speaking.

“No, not at all, just got here actually,” he began, licking his lips slightly before continuing, “I need help with my car- Obviously-, It broke down a few streets back, smokin’ and all… and no fuel” Shawn explained as he watched Owen lower his hand.

Owen looked slightly hurt about the man not shaking his hand, a pout on his face slightly. He hummed slightly before grinning and nodding.

“Should be easy! Luckily, it’s been a slow day, so let me put my truck down and we can go grab your car and tow it with the truck,” the mechanic agreed eagerly after his slow day.

By the time Owen and Shawn had towed the cherry-red car back to the shop, Owen had realized it wasn’t exactly the easiest job… It was a newer car, one he had seen no one in the town drive before… but he wasn’t gonna let this new customer down! Owen had lifted the hood of the car, already knowing it would take a few days to fix from the parts he could see, knowing it would take a few days to order parts… and then a few additional days to actually fix it. 

“So… How long are you here for, Mr?...” 

“Michaels, Shawn Michaels… and I was only coming here to fuel up. "

Now that was an issue. Owen pulled a face, wincing at the thought that he’d have to give this guy bad news.

“Well, Mr. Michaels, I… I uh, suggest you plan your stay here for a few days, I don’t have parts for a car like this,” the mechanic explained, as he glanced over to Shawn who stood nearby with his arms crossed.

“A few days? You have to be kidding me, right? Fuck… Diesel is gonna kill me!” Shawn groaned out, pacing around. “Shit, there’s a decent hotel nearby… right?” he asked, raising a brow as he looked over to Owen. 

Owen winced again. Even more bad news to give the guy…

“Well… There’s a motel nearby… but it is a good 45-minute drive from town.”

Shawn ran a hand through his long, wavy locks in frustration. His day couldn’t get any worse. First, his car breaks, and now the closest place to stay is too far away for him! Diesel appeared in his mind again. That annoying, smug face. Shit, he needed a drink… or something stronger.

Owen could see the annoyance on the guy's face. He truly felt for him. He had a soft heart and couldn’t stand to see a customer disappointed.

“But! If it helps, you could stay at my family ranch for a few days? I can keep you updated on your car and you won’t need to worry about how you’d get back to my shop!” Owen offered. The family ranch had enough space to help the guy out for a few days.

At the sound of the ranch, Shawn instantly hated the idea. He imagined the place being muddy and just plain dirty! However, it meant he would have somewhere to sleep, and he wouldn’t have to worry about trying to get back to this hellhole, which was now his nightmare. He took in a deep breath, trying to calm his annoyance.

“I… I suppose it isn’t a bad idea…” He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, “... Yeah, fine. I’ll stay at this ranch of yours.”

“Let me close up and we can be on our way then!”.

It was common sense to not take a stranger's offer to stay at their house, but what was there for Shawn to lose? He could simply tell a small lie to Diesel, just saying that he’s spending the night at a hotel… And the day after say he was stuck in traffic and then tell him his car has broken down, just to calm the man's nerves. That and Owen just seemed so… sweet. His personality was so genuine and that was so rare to see in Shawn’s life. Yeah, he had a social life as a model, but most of the people he had met never seemed genuine. The only ones he got that feeling from were Hunter, Chyna and Diesel. Shawn truly felt as if Owen did want to help him out. 

Owen hadn’t taken too long to finish locking up. It did leave plenty of time for Shawn to have a quick look around the place. He quickly noticed that Owen was clearly a family kind of guy. There were plenty of pictures scattered around the workroom of Owen with different people, some he assumed to be his parents, others he assumed were probably his brothers and sisters, and maybe even some aunts and uncles. There were even a few pictures of a few kids- one that looked like a younger version of Owen- In some snow. But either way, it was a big family. 

The ride to this ranch was rather quiet. Yeah, there was some small talk, such as where they were both from which Shawn found out that the man was actually from Canada, which was ironic. Another question had arisen as well, the question of Shawn’s job.

“So… You’re a model? I would have thought you were an actor or something,” Owen chuckled.

“That’s sweet of you, I did want to be one, but modeling? Being all dolled up, partying… It’s the life!” Shawn grinned out, not mentioning the bad side of the job. 

“Ah, so you get paid to be pretty and to party… I wish life was that easy” Owen joked. He knew his older brother, Bret, hated that lifestyle. He was always talking about working hard for a good life, which Owen had to agree with. But the thought of partying every so often sounded like a great time. When was the last time he, Jeff Jarrett, Davey and Brian went out for drinks… It had been too long.

“I wish it was that easy,” the model started, “Strict diets, working with people you might not like with… The list is long, but the positives do outdo the negatives in my eyes”. The downfalls of being a model were clearly a touchy subject as Shawn’s grin seemed to disappear. The excited glint in his eyes after the compliment disappeared. Owen knew not to push further on that.

Owen hummed in response, nodding his head slightly, “Well, we’re almost here”.

Seeing a rather rustic house in the distance after seeing cactus after cactus was rather refreshing. The place looked rather peaceful in Shawn’s eyes. It had its own charm to it. The wooden fences that seemed to carry on for ages were cared for, the wood seemed almost new, even if grass tangled and vined itself around the posts. A sign soon came up as they drove along the side of the property. Shawn eyed it up, raising a brow as he saw the name ‘Hart Ranch’. Very creative. 

Entering the beginning of the ranch, Shawn could already see a few animals around in different pastures. There were a few horses, even cows… It reminded Shawn of an old photoshoot he did, one which he enjoyed a lot. He got to dress up like he was a cowboy, the hat, boots and even chaps, the whole shebang! Hunter and Chyna were there as well and they looked amazing in their getup… even if Hunter’s horse he had to ride kept stealing his hat. A small, reminiscent smile graced his face.

The house seemed to grow as they traveled down the long, dirt road. From a while back it looked tiny, something that an old couple would live in. Yet now being so close to it, he noticed how huge it was. It must have been handbuilt, there were uneven grooves in the woods of the walls and fences in front of the house, something that showed how much hard work was put into it. There were even some stone bricks that decorated the oak wood. Bright, fresh vines climbed through the maze of bricks in the house, adding more color to the home. This must have been built years ago, even before Shawn was born. 

Owen and Shawn exited the truck. Owen helped his guest by grabbing the large bag that they had lugged into the truck before they left.

“I’m not too sure who will be in… I know my Ma will be in, my dad will probably be working with Bret, my older brother, somewhere on the ranch… probably fixing something” Owen laughed, “and my sister Diana will be probably looking after the horses… So it should be luckily quiet for you, just for now at least”.

Quietly, Shawn followed Owen up the steps to the patio before opening the screen door, which had a beautiful panel at the bottom that had been engraved by hand into a tree, and entering the rather cool home, the door closing with a soft bang. The home was decorated with even more pictures than what was at the auto repair home, some that were in black and gray, their corners torn and frayed from age which confirmed Shawn’s thought of the place being handbuilt, while others were newer and fresher. There were a few shoes scattered around by the front door being in different sizes and styles, some being boots, some were flats and even a few heels. Owen placed down Shawn’s bag by the oak stairs that stood in front of them before moving into the large, spacious room to the right of them which Shawn slowly followed after.

“Ma! I’m home! I have a guest!” Owen hollered out into the rather silent home, the only noise he could hear after was the sound of the cicadas that buzzed louder. Owen continued to walk towards the kitchen, which Shawn assumed it was. 

Instead of following the young man, Shawn looked around the cozy looking living room. There were a few brown leather couches that surrounded a fireplace, a few blankets were carefully and almost lovingly lined up over the top. Handmade throw pillows laid untouched in the corners by the arms of the couches, embroidery were neatly laced throughout the rather soft looking material which had quotes such as ‘Home Sweet Home’ and ‘Welcome to our happy place’. It was rather sickeningly sweet to see, yet it seemed to suit the home rather well. A large, thick cow rug of brown, black and white laid underneath an oak table, a mug left on a coaster, clearly left and forgotten by accident in the clean house. Bookcases lined the back walls of the living room, full of leather bound books of different colors and sizes before more newer kids books littered between well used and loved books. Finally, Shawn noticed more family pictures, one of a whole family that was framed above the fireplace in front of a different house. 

Shawn wasn’t the type to get homesick. He had a pretty close relationship with his mom, but that was it. He’d phone her every so often. But even in his parents home, there were barely any photos of them as a family, as Shawn grew up, the pictures dwindled down until there was nothing new. Seeing these pictures though, it tugged at Shawn’s heart, the feeling of homesickness being more apparent. He quickly shook his head, trying not to get sentimental.

The perfect distraction eventually came, pulling Shawn out of his thoughts as he heard the front door open again. Shawn glanced over his shoulder, his eyes landing on a taller man. Now, Shawn may not have been the type to be homesick, but he was the type to be a hopeless romantic, and when this guy walked into the house? Shawn could feel blood rush to his cheeks.

The guy had curly, deep brown hair that reached his shoulders. His skin was tanned much like a god, the sheen of sweat clung to the man's brows and neck. His eyes were a dark, melted chocolate color that held warmth in them. And his outfit? Shawn was loving it. A black cowboy hat sat upon his head like a halo, his blue, checkered shirt hugged around his strong, muscular chest perfectly, his jeans hugged oh-so-perfectly around his legs. This man was something Shawn wanted and needed.

Silence filled the room as the man stared down Shawn, staring down his outfit before looking around the living room. It was an awkward silence, one that Shawn could tell that this guy was trying to figure out who Shawn was and why he was just standing there. 

Before Shawn could even speak, the mans low voice filled the room, “Who the hell are you? What are you doing in my home?”.

[ciaotoska]

Take Two

Pairing: Bret/Shawn

Shawn and Bret make a sex tape.

Words: 2.5k (I was shooting for 2000 and clearly missed)

“Flip around the… thing,” Shawn said, waving his fingers at the camera. “I wanna see.”

Bret looked at him in the viewfinder, sprawled across the hotel bed with one knee up and wearing nothing but the red silk robe he kept absently pulling shut while he was digging through the fruit plate in front of him. He was being almost unintentionally coquettish, like an over-thirty Lolita.

Considering the hotel didn’t provide silk robes — “Some do!” — Bret was sure he brought it with him. And, considering the length and fit around his narrow waist, he was sure it was a woman’s.

And fruit plate was generous. Shawn had really just upturned the jar of maraschino cherries from the dry bar onto a plate.

He took a break from snacking and leaned his head back to shake out his hair. Bret met his eyes through the camera.

“The thing? The screen?” Bret asked, still adjusting the tripod.

“Whatever the fuck it’s called.”

Bret flipped the tiny folding screen around for him. He watched Shawn bite his lip, delighted to see himself, then frown.

“What the fuck is that?”

“That’s you, Shawn,” Bret said patiently.

“Smartass. I’m talking about the dogshit framing.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Bret stepped around the camera to look.

“Uh, I look like hell, first of all.” Shawn went back to poking a finger around on the plate. “You’ve achieved the impossible: You made me look bad on camera.”

It was true: Shawn was designed to be on camera. Had designed himself to be on camera, really. But Bret still didn’t see what he was complaining about but tried to placate him anyway.

“I’m gonna fix the lighting.”

“I hope so. If I wanted dark and dreary, I’d go find the Undertaker.”

Shawn didn’t do mood lighting, Bret found that out the first time they slept together. He liked as many lights on in the room as possible. “No point in looking like this if nobody can see me,” he’d reasoned.

Shawn whined a little on the bed and Bret could see that he’d dug through all of the stems on the plate and found no more cherries. He looked up at Bret from under his lashes.

“You know I can tie one of these in a knot with my tongue?”

“Can you?”

“No. It’s harder than it looks.” He tied one with his fingers to illustrate. “Plus, this isn’t a first date. You already know what I can do with a dick.”

Bret was moving the lamps around the room, now resigned to the fact that Shawn wasn’t going to help him even after he’d finished his snack. When he’d agreed to this backstage last week, he hadn’t expected to be doing all the work.

And, he hadn’t expected to be paying for it either, after Shawn had talked him into paying for a room at a nicer hotel. When he asked what he was getting out of this, Shawn had simply said, “the privilege of fucking me.”

Things got off to a rocky start — and stayed there, based on Shawn’s perfectionism — when Shawn had been blowing out his hair in the bathroom when Bret arrived. He could hear the blow-dryer through the door and surprised Shawn, who came out ready to fight the supposed stranger — someone who wouldn’t have known that Shawn can’t fight, surely — with a serving of Conair.

After all of that, he’d rolled around on the bed a little bit to “test it out,” like he was warming up before a match. He’d had nothing set up and now it was Bret’s job.

Bret had been talked into all of this backstage last week when Shawn had cornered him before the show. “I wanna put you in my tape library.”

“What?”

“I’m gonna make you a star, kid.” He’d taken a drag of his cigarette and threw his head back and laughed.

Bret had learned a lot of unsurprising things about Shawn over the years, but hearing that he had a home collection of all the guys he’d fucked was the least surprising.

The tape traders would’ve had a field day with that.

He looked at Shawn again. He was lying on his back now, eyes closed. Bret could see straight up his robe to confirm that he was, in fact, wearing nothing else. He also noted his apparently lineless tan.

“What are you doing?”

“Resting up.” Shawn cracked an eye open when Bret groaned with the effort of moving a nightstand out of the way. “Do you need me to go find a cameraman? Is this too much for you?”

“No.” He shut that down immediately. He didn’t want Shawn getting any ideas about getting Helmsley in here to work the camera. “I could use a little help.”

Shawn sighed and pushed up from the bed, nudging Bret out of the way with his foot.

“You lay there.” He walked behind the camera.

Bret laid flat on the bed, hands behind his head.

“Like I was laying. Not like a fucking corpse.”

Bret frowned at him and then rolled onto his side, putting a knee up the same way Shawn had.

“Good. That’s nice.”

He looked through the lens, making minor adjustments to the position.

“I hate to say it, Bret, but I think you did a good job sprucing up this lighting.”

“Why do you hate to say that?”

Shawn didn’t answer him, but he did love to be combative for no reason. If Bret were a different man, it would ruin him. At times like this — Shawn’s problem-causing times — he remembered that Shawn had once told him that Bret had his second favorite dick. He hated to admit that he was plagued by the idea of who he was competing with. Maybe Shawn had just been saying that to get in his head, but he could be very easy with a backhanded compliment.

“I thought about bringing a second camera to get another angle.”

“And then you would go home and cut them together on your computer?” Bret couldn’t even imagine Shawn knew what a computer looked like, let alone him doing something so technical. He figured Shawn probably thought computers only existed in Star Trek, but he would also never admit to knowing what that was either.

“I have a guy.”

Bret didn’t want to think of how Shawn was paying whoever it was. And, if he was into dudes, he was sure Shawn was a real tease about the whole thing.

“Well, surely we’re not going to be like this the whole time,” Bret said, gesturing to the way he was still posed.

“You didn’t wanna fuck me like that?” Shawn lifted his head back up to smile at him. “I was thinking we’d start in missionary, then switch to me riding you, and finish with doggy.”

Shawn leaned his arm on the camera and his head on his hand, that smile still on his face. Bret wondered how much trial and error it had taken him to find what worked.

“I thought you liked to finish in missionary? For the kissing.”

Shawn frowned a little, like he didn’t like being confronted with his own alleged tenderness.

“But this way I can see both our faces when we finish.” Shawn thought for a second. “Actually, why don’t you take your clothes off and get on your knees?” He dragged his eyes down Bret’s body with such a lecherous look that Bret could feel himself blush. He really did feel like he was on Shawn’s casting couch now. “So I can really see.”

“Okay, that’s enough of that. Just get over here so I can fuck you.” If Bret sounded annoyed, it’s because he was. He’d been fluctuating between half-hard and fully soft in his jeans between watching Shawn eat fruit in his robe and being ordered around with lamps and furniture.

“Take your clothes off, baby, and then I will.”

He stood at the corner of the bed until Bret complied. He finally sat up and unbuttoned his flannel and jeans.

“Underwear is fine.” Shawn stopped him as he was about peel them off. “Y’know, for the dick reveal.”

Shawn took his clothes from him and folded them over the back of a chair in the corner. Bret really felt like he was on a set now, the rest of the room in almost total darkness after he’d moved all of the lamps behind the camera, just leaving a pile of lampshades behind.

“You want me to prep you before?” Bret asked, not figuring a sexy way to ask before he said it, but Shawn was just as detached with his response.

“No. I think it plays well on camera.”

“So you can watch yourself, you mean?”

“Obviously.”

Shawn was about to get on the bed but stopped, leaning a knee on it.

“You have some lines or something you wanna say?”

“It’s a sex tape, not a porno.”

“A porno,” Shawn mocked him with a heavy Canadian accent. “I meant like, ‘You look so hot. I can’t wait to fuck you.’” Shawn shrugged even as he said it, like he was tired of hearing it.

Bret snorted and Shawn flicked a tied up cherry stem at him from the plate he was moving off the bed.

“Not that exact thing.” Shawn waved his hand around. “Something like that, I said.”

“How about we be a little spontaneous?” Bret held his hand out for Shawn, and Shawn leaned his head down to hide a smile.

He crawled onto the bed and Bret rolled over on top of him. The kissing was easy with them; they were both good at it. Everything else felt kind of like a fight, but they’d negotiated all of this beforehand, so maybe the rest would be easy too.

Shawn tasted sugary sweet from all the cherries he’d been eating and Bret didn’t mind, even though he never had much of a sweet tooth. For a while, the only noise in the room was their mouths and tongues against each other and the quiet hum of the camera.

Shawn nudged him up to pull down his underwear and Bret made sure to face himself a little toward the camera so Shawn could look at his cock again later in the comfort of his living room. Shawn stared at it as it was revealed to him in real time, falling heavy over the band of his boxers.

He leaned back down to open Shawn’s robe, kissing from his neck down to his stomach as more skin was revealed to him, stopping to suck both nipples on the way. Shawn tangled his hand in Bret’s hair.

He pulled out the bottle of lube that Shawn had stashed in his robe pocket, as close as he could to sleight of hand because he knew it’s what Shawn wanted on camera.

Bret could feel Shawn getting harder against his stomach, hissing when their cocks bumped together before Shawn wrapped a hand around them both and gave them a few strokes. Bret groaned into his neck.

He worked on getting a little oil onto his fingers — he noticed immediately that it was cherry scented, of course — before sliding them into Shawn. Shawn would’ve normally made a quiet gasp at this, but he played it up a little for the camera.

Bret slid in and was happy Shawn had convinced him to do this on camera instead of before. He groaned at the way Shawn took him, at the hot tightness, no longer concentrating on playing for the camcorder in front of them.

“God, you feel good.”

Shawn bit his lip and threw his head back. Clearly he didn’t mind Bret’s spontaneous dialogue.

They were starting slow, Bret watching Shawn writhe and groan and sigh under him from the deep, steady thrusts.

Shawn was noisy in bed as it was, but now that he was performing for the camera Bret hoped they wouldn’t get interrupted by hotel management.

As promised, he soon flipped them over to get on top with a motion easy enough that Bret knew it was practiced. He ran his thumbs over Bret’s nipples and Bret slid his hands up his thighs, thumbing the insides.

He worked up to a steady rhythm on top of Bret, faster than the one before it, balancing his hands on Bret’s stomach before he reached his hands up to shake his hair out behind him. He took Bret as deep as he could with every bounce and Bret reached back to hold onto his ass, digging in his fingers in a way that got a sharp gasp out of Shawn.

By the time Bret repositioned himself behind him — a transition slightly less sexy than the last one — he was sure neither one of them would last very long.

He liked to see his ass, of course. Liked to watch himself disappear into it, but this position always felt slightly more anonymous than Bret wanted from their encounters.

It wasn’t just Shawn who liked to finish with them facing each other. Bret liked to look at Shawn’s face while he came — he was always making the most perfect faces. But now he was fine with watching them on the screen like Shawn was doing. He gripped tighter on Shawn’s narrow hips and angled his own so that his cock was thrusting down farther and he watched Shawn’s eyes go wide as he hit him in just the right place.

He knew half of it was the thrill Shawn got from watching himself on camera, but it only took a few deep thrusts to send him spilling onto the bed below them completely untouched. He seemed so surprised by it the only noise he made was a choked groan.

Bret followed him not long after, mostly from Shawn’s muscles squeezing through his own orgasm but helped along by the idea of Shawn watching this at home.

When they finished, they laid together on the bed like normal people and not like they were on camera. At least pretending like they weren’t on camera.

Shawn laid back on Bret’s arm, keeping his eyes on the screen. Bret saw him squint, then he jumped up and rushed over to the camcorder, putting an end to their atypical easy afterglow but giving Bret a nice look at his ass.

“Aw, Bret!” Bret leaned his head up to see Shawn’s brows knit together in a pout. “You didn’t press record.”

“What do you mean, ‘aw, Bret’? You were the last one over there.”

“Oh, well.” Shawn shoved him back down onto the mattress. “Time for take two.”

“And Bret,” he started, on his way back from the camcorder. “Be a little louder this time.”

—

A/N: I have a bunch of these little ideas that have just been languishing on my hard drive, so I figured: whoa, what if I actually put them somewhere

Also, for reference:

[tameodesza]

Unlikely Meeting (BretShawn)

AO3 Link | masterlist

How Shawn’s first time staying home alone turned into him accidentally meeting Bret’s mom for the first time 

Shawn was convinced that the best decision he’d ever made was agreeing to travel on the road with Bret full time. Maybe it’s because he spent the majority of his adult life wasting away in an office doing boring clerical work, but traveling with Bret made Shawn feel so free and content with life. Throughout his time on the road, he and Bret visited various cities across the US and Canada, taking in all the beauty and fun adventures that the continent had to offer.

Although he didn’t want to admit it, Shawn was slightly worried in the beginning of their travels. He often wondered if spending so much time together would drive both Bret and himself crazy, desperately needing space from each other. However, it was quite the opposite. Spending time together backstage, cuddling in their hotel room, going sightseeing, and driving cross-country for hours at a time only brought them that much closer. It definitely helped to make up for the time they lost when they were dating long-distance. So many unforgettable memories were made on the road.

When Bret had a week-long break, the two decided to spend it in Calgary. Now that Shawn was living with Bret, Calgary had become their home base in between their travels. Shawn still had yet to settle in due to the two traveling as soon as Shawn had left Texas to be with Bret. Nevertheless, it still brought a smile to his face whenever Bret would utter the words ‘our home,’ further solidifying their relationship.

Shawn was set on experiencing the freedom of the road again after their short trip to Calgary. Unfortunately, his plans were compromised when a pounding headache turned into a runny nose and a dry cough, which eventually progressed into Shawn catching the common cold the day before they were set to be back on the road.

“Ugh, I feel like death,” Shawn groaned with a raspy voice as he laid in bed, surrounded by mounds of blankets and snotty tissues.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay with you,” asked Bret after zipping up his suitcase, walking over to sit on the edge of the bed next to Shawn.

Bret’s immediate response after he found out that Shawn was sick was to offer to nurse him back to health. To be honest, he felt a little guilty. He’d concluded that Shawn’s system probably got fucked up from traveling with him for such an extended period of time. Everything must have caught up to the blond once they settled in Calgary.

“No,” Shawn said before being cut off by a coughing fit. He reached for another piece of tissue, blowing his nose before adding it to his collection of crumbled used tissue. Shawn sank back onto his pillow, groaning in misery.

Bret moved a few hair strands away from Shawn’s face before placing a hand on his forehead, noting how warm it felt. “I don’t want to leave you alone,” he said, removing his hand from Shawn’s forehead to caress his cheek.

Shawn gave another sniff before saying, “Maybe I wouldn’t have to go through this alone if you’d let me come with you-” and he was attacked by another coughing fit.

Bret gave him a moment to settle down before saying, “I’m not letting you travel on the road like this.”

Shawn pouted, “I’m a big boy, Bret. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“No-”

“What if I’m fine by tomorrow?”

Bret took a moment before answering monotonously, “Shawn, you literally just said you feel like death.”

Shawn whined, “You know I’m dramatic.”

Bret said firmly, “No. You need rest.”

Shawn mumbled indignantly to himself, knowing Bret was right. His body let out a few sneezes and another cough, further proving Bret’s point.

Bret moved his hand down to lightly rub Shawn’s shoulder. “See? You’re in no condition to travel right now.”

Shawn sighed. “I know, but what am I supposed to do without you here? I’m going to miss you.”

Bret desperately wanted to kiss Shawn’s worries away, but he was afraid of getting himself sick. Instead, he settled for dragging his hand down to comfortingly rub at Shawn’s hip. “It’ll be ok, baby. I have a break in between shows. I’ll fly out to see you then.”

Shawn gave another sniff feeling the mucous building up in his nose again. “When’s your break?”

“In three days.”

“Three days?!” Shawn coughed before continuing his tirade, “You’re really going to leave me here to fend for myself for three whole days?! I thought you loved me,” Shawn moped, sticking his bottom lip out dramatically.

Bret chuckled, bringing his other hand down to pet gently at Shawn’s head. “I do love you. That’s why I need you here and not on the road. What if it gets worse?”

“What if it doesn’t?”

“But what if it does,” Bret reiterated.

“At least you’d be there to take care of me.”

“And what do I do if I end up getting sick?”

“Then we’d just be sick together?” Shawn ended with as sweet of a look he could muster. But Bret wasn’t buying it.

“Nice try. Look, I’ll make sure to call you every single night and you can tell me all about your day, ok?”

Shawn let out another string of sneezes, ending with him blowing his nose before he answered solemnly, “Ok.”

 While awaiting Bret’s return, Shawn spent the majority of his time resting in bed like a zombie, feeling lethargic and only moving to eat, use the restroom, or answer the phone when Bret called. Bret’s phone calls were the only highlight of his days. Bret, being the sweetheart that he is, would listen patiently as Shawn explained his day, complaining about how bored he was and how much he missed Bret. Bret missed the blond just as much. Traveling on the road was no longer the same without him.

It was on the third day of his hibernation that Shawn heard the sound of the front door opening downstairs. Shawn, bundled up in multiple blankets, slowly opened his eyes at the sound. He lazily sat up, pulling the mound of blankets up with him knowing that Bret had just returned home.

Shawn realized that it was a day earlier than expected, but he wasn’t complaining. Thankfully, he’d gotten a little better since the last time he’d seen Bret, only a stuffy nose and scratchy throat remaining. However, he still wanted Bret to dote on him.

Shawn got out of bed, tugging one of his many blankets over his shoulders as he wrapped himself like a burrito before making his way downstairs. He rubbed at his eyes as he slowly walked down the steps calling out, “Bret?”

Not hearing his boyfriend’s reply, Shawn made his way to the kitchen where he could hear movement. He let out a silent yawn before saying, “Babe? Bret?”

He rounded his way into the kitchen, stopping abruptly as he jumped in a startle, screaming in horror as he was met with an older woman that certainly wasn’t Bret.

Shawn’s horrific scream caused the woman to do the same as she jumped, turning around surprised to see the unwelcome visitor.

It took a short moment for Shawn to realize who it was. Bret’s mother, Helen Hart. Or at least that’s who he assumed it was from the family photos Bret’s shown him.

Then it dawned on him. This was his first time meeting Bret’s mom. Shawn felt like a bucket of cold water was dunked on him as a wave of embarrassment washed over him. Her first impression of him must have been that he was a total nutcase. He wouldn’t blame her. How else would he expect anyone to react at the sight of a tall, ill-looking man with a raspy voice and bedhead?

She yelled, “Who are you?! What are you doing here?!” She didn’t even give Shawn a chance to respond as she was already raising a hand to hit him with the newspaper she was holding.

She stopped in her tracks as Shawn held out his blanketed arms in defense, quickly uttering, “Wait, wait!” But he was cut off by a coughing fit that he could’ve sworn had disappeared.

Once his coughing subsided, he continued, “I’m Shawn. I’m a…friend of Bret’s.” Shawn didn’t think lying to his future mother-in-law was a good first impression, but he wasn’t sure if Bret told her about them. And with Bret still being in the closet, it was safer to say he’s a friend.

“What are you doing in my son’s home,” she asked as she slowly lowered the newspaper in her hands, but still on high alert.

Shawn sniffed, desperately wishing he’d brought a tissue down with him to blow his nose. “Bret let me stay here until he gets back.” Shawn then swiftly tucked his head into his arm as a string of sneezes came along.

Her worries were not eased as she wondered why some man she’d never seen before had access to her son’s home. She had a spare key to Bret’s place and always checked up on the house when he was out of town. The last thing she expected was to find another man in there. 

However, Helen’s caution seemed to lower a bit as she finally took in the sight of Shawn, noticing how sickly he looked. With him having a red-tinted nose, a look of exhaustion, and being wrapped up in a blanket like a penguin, he didn’t seem too threatening. Once it became apparent that the man was sick, she felt a little bad for him.

After Shawn brought his head up from his arm, his sneezing finally over, Helen said softly, “Well, Shawn, you don’t look so good. You should go lay back down. I was just stopping by to drop off a few things for Bret. I’m his mother, Helen.”

Shawn managed to give a polite smile as he sniffed saying, “Nice to meet you, Helen.”

“Here you go, dear,” she said as she handed him a tissue from her purse.

“Thanks,” Shawn said gratefully. He blew his nose, throwing the tissue in the trash, saying. “Sorry for scaring you.”

She gave a polite smile back. “It’s ok. I’m just used to the house being empty when Bret’s gone. It’s not too often that he lets people stay here besides family. Now that I think of it, the only time a person other than family has stayed here has been when he was dating someone.”

Shawn’s face heated up at the revelation, and this time it wasn’t from a fever.

“Oh, really? How interesting,” Shawn said feigning ignorance, not knowing how to pivot the conversation.

“Yeah, it’s really odd,” Helen pondered.

Think quick, Shawn thought to himself. Without warning, Shawn went into another coughing fit. This time it was obviously forced, his sickness being the only copout he could think of to get out of the conversation.

His plan seemed to work as Helen’s attention shifted back to Shawn’s condition. “Aww, you poor thing. Do you have any medicine you can take?”

Shawn cleared his throat, shaking his head no. “Bret doesn’t have any in the house.”

Helen shook her head in disappointment before rummaging around in her purse. She tsked, “That son of mine. He never has this place stocked with the essentials.”

Shawn smirked to himself, being reminded that he’d gotten onto Bret on more than a few occasions about having his house stocked. Without thinking, he said “Yeah, he’s really bad at that. I mean-” then another obviously fake string of coughs pursued.

“Here,” said Helen after finally finding the pack of generic cold medicine in her purse. She took out a pill then reached for one of Shawn’s hands which were tucked away under his blanket. She dropped the pill in his hand palm before heading to the refrigerator to pull out a bottle of water, handing it to Shawn as well. “I’m not sure if it’ll do much for your runny nose, but it should help get rid of those coughs.”

An appreciative smile tugged at Shawn’s lips, the blond being reminded of his own mother who was always prepared and knew what to do to take care of him. “Thank you,” he said after he’d swallowed the pill down.

“No problem, darling. Now, I need for you to rest while I make some soup for you-”

Shawn quickly declined, “Oh, no you don’t have to do that. Thanks for offering-”

“Ah, I don’t want to hear it. I’m sure Bret would appreciate me taking care of a friend of his.” She walked up to Shawn, placing a light hand on his arm and lower back as she guided him towards the stairs. “Now, I need you to lay down in the meantime and I’ll let you know when the soup’s done, ok?”

Bret’s mom had already done plenty to help him out, so Shawn really didn’t want her to feel like she had to cook for him. However, she was adamant, and Shawn was too tired to put up a fight. So he allowed Helen to walk him upstairs.

Once they’d reached the top, Helen intended on walking Shawn to the guest room that was a few doors down from Bret’s. Much to her surprise, Shawn continued to walk past the guest room, headed straight towards Bret’s bedroom. Interesting, she mentally noted.

Her curiosity only grew once they made it to Bret’s room. Seeing the comfortable nest of blankets and pillows Shawn had built on the bed caused Helen to wonder: Just how long has this man been here? And just how close was he to Bret where her son would allow him to get this comfortable in his bed?

Shawn let out a groan as he finally settled back into his mountain of blankets that still smelled vaguely of Bret’s cologne, shifting around until he found a comfortable resting position.

After ensuring Shawn was nice and cozy, taking in the serene look on the young man’s face, Helen looked around the room before asking inquisitively, “So, you said you’re a friend?”

Shawn nodded, almost too eagerly as he said, “Mhmm,” words failing him at the moment.

There was an uncomfortable silence that seemed to linger too long before Helen said, “I’ll be right back, dear. Try to get some rest while I cook, ok?”

Shawn nodded and at that, Helen left Shawn alone as she closed the door behind her. As soon as she was out of sight, Shawn thrashed around in the bed, kicking his legs in a tantrum as he whined to himself, “What the fuck is my life?” That was a question he’d yet to have an answer for.

Instead of contemplating how fucked his life was, Shawn decided to take Helen’s advice and get some more rest. Although he’d been resting for the past few days, it seemed like he could never get enough sleep.

 He wasn’t sure how long he’d been out for, but soon enough, he was awakened from his slumber by the sound of a light knock on the bedroom door. He opened his eyes to see Helen peeping her head in, saying, “Food’s done, dear.”

Shawn slowly sat up as he cleared. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Hart. You’re an angel.”

“You’re welcome. Well, I’m headed out. I hope you feel better, Shawn.”

“Oh, wait. Let me walk you out,” Shawn said as he made moves to get up from the bed.

He stopped his movement when Helen said, “No, it’s fine. Stay there. I have a key, so I’ll make sure to lock up when I leave out. It was nice meeting you, Shawn. Hopefully, we’ll cross paths again,” she ended with a gentle smile before making her way out the house.

Shawn continued looking at the bedroom door even after hearing the front door being locked, reflecting on how bizarre his day had been.

While Shawn spent that evening wondering how he’d survived that encounter, Helen spent the evening pondering over Shawn, her suspicions heightened after she’d laid eyes on a picture that rested on the nightstand next to Shawn – a picture of Bret back hugging the blond, kissing Shawn’s cheek as Shawn gave a radiant smile to the camera.

 Later that night, Shawn was once again brought out of his sleep, this time by the sound of the house phone ringing. He checked the time to see that it was almost midnight. He knew it was Bret, the older man probably calling after settling down in his hotel room after a house show.

With the cold medicine finally kicking in and a stomach full of soup, Shawn was starting to feel better, but he was still groggy. Despite his tired state, he rushed out of the bed as quickly as he could towards the house phone that sat on a shelf in the hallway.

He let out a light yawn as he answered, “Hello?”

“Hey, baby. It’s Bret.”

Shawn leaned his head on the wall, closing his eyes as he responded, “Hey.”

“Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah, a little.”

“That’s good.”

“Mhmm,” said Shawn as he felt himself trying to drift asleep.

However, Shawn became fully awake when Bret said, “So, I heard you met my mother today.” Shawn’s eyes flew open, the man groaning as he placed a tired hand on his face, the events of the evening all coming back to him.

“Yeah…that happened. Did she tell you?”

“Well, not exactly. It was something more along the line of ‘You want to tell me why there’s an adorable man tucked away in your house?’ She made it seem like I was holding you hostage or something.”

Shawn wanted to laugh at the absurdity, but his nerves wouldn’t allow him to find the humor in the situation. “Did she say anything else?”

“Oh, she also mentioned something about the picture on the nightstand.”

“The picture on the nightstand?” Shawn questioned having no idea what Bret was talking about. That was until he leaned his head in the direction of the bedroom, looking towards the nightstand on his side of the bed to see the picture in question. 

And that’s when the reality of the situation settled in: Helen saying that Bret only let those he dated stay with him. Her asking Shawn again if he and Bret were friends. Her knowing smile as she left the house for the evening. 

She knew. Or at least she knew there was something more than a friendship going on between Bret and Shawn. And it was all Shawn’s fault. 

“Holy shit. Bret, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even notice the picture sitting there. Fuck!”

To be honest, Shawn had forgotten he’d put the picture there a few days earlier. It was one of his favorite pictures, and because he was going to be alone without Bret for a few days, he put it next to his side of the bed so he could look at Bret until he came back.

Now because of his negligence, he accidentally outed Bret to his family.

“Why are you apologizing, babe?”

“Because your family doesn’t even know you’re dating anyone, let alone that you like men, Bret. Your mom seems like a smart woman. I’m pretty sure she didn’t buy that we’re just friends after seeing a picture like that. Plus-”

“Shawn, it’s fine. I told her.”

Shawn had to take a moment, not wanting to misread what Bret was saying, “Told her?”

“About us.”

Shawn would’ve dropped the phone from shock if he wasn’t afraid of the call disconnecting. “You what?” Shawn wasn’t mad about it. He was just concerned that he’d forced Bret to come out to his mom. 

Shawn continues. “You know what this means, right? You’re out, Bret. Even if it’s just to your mom.”

Bret let out a sigh, saying gently, “I know. But I’m ready, Shawn. Remember when I told you I was serious about spending the rest of my life with you? I really meant it. I want you involved in every aspect of my life, and that includes you meeting my family. I was planning to tell them about you soon anyway. So I may as well do it sooner than later.”

Shawn’s heart melted, it never getting old hearing how serious Bret was about him. He asked softly, “But do you really want that?”

Bret smiled to himself. “Yes, I do.”

Shawn let out a deep breath, before asking “How does your mom feel about it?”

“About me? Or us?”

Shawn shrugged even though Bret couldn’t see him. “Both, I guess?”

Bret shifted back into a more comfortable position on the hotel bed as he recalled the conversation with his mother. “She didn’t make a big deal about it. She did say she was a bit surprised to find a man instead of a woman camping out in my house, but she was happy for me. If anything, she was more curious about you.”

Shawn quirked a brow. “Curious about me? What did you tell her?”

Bret grinned at hearing the suspicious tone in Shawn’s voice. “All good things, I swear. She just wanted to know things like where you’re from, how long we’ve been together, how ‘friendly’ we are.”

Helen didn’t know what Bret and Shawn’s relationship truly consisted of, but what she did know was that both men looked so happy in that photo, and if Shawn brought any ounce of happiness to Bret, she’d support them.

Shawn shifted, leaning his back on the wall in relief that the situation didn’t turn sour. However, he was curious about one thing. “What about your dad? Do you think he’ll be ok with it?”

Bret hesitated before answering. Not because he thought his dad would be an issue, but because he honestly didn’t know.

Bret answered carefully, “My dad’s a very…accepting guy. I’ve never heard him utter a negative word about gay people. However, I’m not sure if he’d feel the same way toward his own son. We don’t really talk about that sort of stuff.”

“I see,” was Shawn’s reply as his mind began to spiral at all of the possible negative experiences he could have with Bret’s dad. 

“You don’t have anything to worry about, Shawn,” said Bret, sensing that Shawn was overthinking. “My mom swore she wouldn’t say anything to him until I’m ready. We’ll cross that bridge when we get there, ok?”

Shawn still wasn’t convinced, but he gave a soft, “Ok.”

“We can talk about it more when I get home.”

Shawn perked at that, asking, “What time are you coming home?” 

“Some time in the night.”

“Night? What time is your plane landing?”

“11:35, I think.”

Cue whiny Shawn in 3,2,1 “But Breeet, that’s so late! You need to hurry back home so you can take care of me.”

Bret chuckled, “Sorry, sweetheart. I can’t control flight times. And I haven’t heard you cough or sniffle one time during our conversation.”

Shawn gave a forced cough and put on his best sick voice. “See? I’m still sick. I need you here.”

“You’re milking this aren’t you?” It had been a few days, so Bret knew Shawn must be feeling at least a little better by now. 

Shawn coughed again, saying innocently, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, babe.”

“Right,” Bret said flatly, obviously not believing him. “Hey, I gotta go, but I’ll see you when I get home ok?”

Home. As in their home. The word still made Shawn’s stomach flutter. “Ok, see you when you get here. Bye, Bret.”

Shawn slept a little better that night knowing he’d be reunited with Bret the next day. 

[kissorkill16]

A Week Bet: A Lorax Fanfic

By JJ

Summary: The Lorax gives the Onceler a week to sell his Thneed.

The Onceler put his face in his hands and groaned as he just witnessed a bear in his refrigerator eating HIS butter.

"You know what?" said the Onceler, "I got work to do.", The Onceler started changing into his casual wear, completely ignoring that there were animals in his house. "Yup, I gotta go into town and sell my Thneed.", he said proudly, showing his Thneed to the Lorax. "Unless that unleashes the forces of nature too...?"

"Pfft! More like the laugh of nature!"

The Lorax started laughing, and the animals started laughing along with him. "You chopped down one of my trees to make that piece of garbage?", he said in between two hardy laughs. The Onceler just stood there, taking it all in. Of course he would laugh at you, everyone laughs at you. Because no one supports your dreams, not Mom, not Bret or Chett, not Uncle Ubb, not Aunt Grizelda, no one.

But another part of his brain was telling him that he should just convince him it'll change the world, show this furry meatloaf what you've got.

"Garbage? Oh no, oh no, you do not get it. This is a revolutionary product that will change the world as we know it.", he pushed a couple of barbaloots that were sleeping on his table. "It has a million uses.", he excitedly said, even as the Lorax looked less than amused.

"Look at this, it's a swimsuit!"

He picked up a fat barbaloot and dressed him up in the Thneed as if it really was a swimsuit, then he yanked it off him and the barbaloot went and fell on the floor.

"Mud tracked all over your floor by uninvited guests? Well, the Thneed sure comes in handy for that."

He swiped up all of the dirt tracks on the floor, leaving the hummungfish in awe.

"But wait, there's more! Thanks to its all natural microfibers, the Thneed is super absorbent!"

He then proceeded to push his Thneed into a glass of water with a sleeping hummungfish in it, startling him awake.

"It also works as a hat."

He put his Thneed on the Lorax's head, it was all wet, and the Lorax still looked less than amused.

"Of course, you'd probably wanna ring it out first."

"Go ahead, go ahead, knock yourself out!", said the Lorax as he straightened his fur. "But nobody's gonna buy that thing."

That really hit the Onceler straight in the heart, it was like hearing the words of his mother, she always degraded him and said he'll never amount to anything. Words like "failure" and "useless" mocked him, while he was a little hurt, he kept a poker face.

"Then how about a little wager."

The Lorax looked interested in what this beanpole had to say, it sounded a little stupid, but it was a wager. And if he won, the Onceler would leave. What? Just because he made a promise doesn't mean he doesn't still want him gone.

"Alright then, beanpole."

"Okay. If I can sell my Thneed, then I can stay here, and use each and every last Truffula Tree for profit.", the Lorax did NOT like the sound of that, but he kept a stoic expression.

"Fine, kid. I give you a week to sell this Thneed of yours, but if you lose, you leave Truffula Valley and never come back."

"Fine, it's a deal.", the two shook hands, and the Onceler wrapped the Thneed around his neck, then picked up his guitar.

"You're bringing a guitar?", asked the Lorax.

"Oh yeah, I got a little jingle. Gonna blow some minds, gonna sell some Thneeds! Yeah.", and the Onceler was straight out the door.

In the town called Greenville, he was sure he was going to sell his Thneed and make a lot of money, and most importantly, make his family proud. "You ready, Melvin?", he asked his mule, who had a poster saying "Thneeds $3.98" on his back, he looked just as unamused as the Lorax did this morning. "Come on, Melvin, cheer up. It's only gonna be for a week, then you can just stick to riding me to places."

The Onceler grabbed his guitar, patted Melvin on the head, jumped onto the gazebo and called out "Hello, citizens of Greenville!", that really caught the people's attention. Everyone standing there or walking by looked at him, waiting for what he had to say.

"What is the one thing that all people need? Thneeds of course! It can be all you need in just one piece of fabulous cloth, made with real Truffula tufts, and it's butterfly milk scented! The best part, it's super cheap! Only $3.98, and a song to go along with it."

This was it, people were going to start lining up, ready to buy his Thneed, and he would make a lot of money, enough to make his family proud. He started singing.

"Everybody needs a Thneed, a fine thing that all people-"

A tomato came flying at his face, and he saw that nobody was lining up, instead, they were pointing and laughing at him.

"There's no way something can do everything!"

"What're you trying to pull?"

"This is the absolute dumbest con I've ever seen in my entire life!"

The Onceler didn't expect this to happen, he imagined Greenville was a place with nice people, instead they were just as bad as his family. Before they could throw more tomatoes or laugh at him more, he grabbed Melvin by the reigns and led him away. Melvin looked up at him with worried eyes.

"What're you worried about, Melvin? I've still got 6 days left, it's not over yet."

Back at his cottage, he cleaned himself up, and sat down on his bed, trying to come up with a better way to convince the people to buy his Thneed.

"I see you haven't sold your Thneed yet?"

He was startled out of his thoughts when he heard the Lorax's voice, and he rolled his eyes at him.

"Look, Moustache, sometimes you don't get it right the first time. I've still got 6 days left, so don't go celebrating yet."

The next day, the Onceler was more determined than ever, he came up with a new song, convinced it'll please the people enough to buy his Thneed.

"Citizens of Greenville, yesterday was a bit floozy, but today, I intend to gather your attention and one of you will be the lucky customers to buy my Thneed."

The Onceler started singing in a soothing voice.

"Everybody needs a Thneed, a fine thing that all people need ~🎵 The Thneed is good, the Thneed is great- HEY!"

Before he could even finish the song, a little girl grabbed his guitar, and smashed it onto one of the pillars of the gazebo. This little girl broke his guitar, one of the few things that made him happy, it was now broken in two. And before he could start yelling at her or start crying, a tomato came flying at him and decked him in the back.

Just like yesterday, people laughed at him and threw tomatoes at him, and even worse, they broke his guitar.

Back at his cottage, he tried fixing his guitar, wrapping a whole lot of tape on where the broken spot was. A voice startled him out of his thoughts.

"I see you still haven't sold your Thneed yet? What's taking so long, beanpole?"

"Shut up, you furry meatloaf! I just haven't caught the people's attention yet, and I still have 5 days left, so take your furry orange butt on somewhere!"

"Okay, beanpole. I know it's been a long day for you, I'll leave."

And so he did, leaving the Onceler to his thoughts.

The next day, the Onceler didn't bring his guitar, he just had his Thneed wrapped around his neck and his head held high. "Alright, Greenville. Today, I bring no guitar, so no songs. But I still bring a lot of confidence, and I promise you, I'll keep coming back to this very gazebo until someone buys my revolutionary product, my Thneed."

With that, he yanked the Thneed from off his neck, and started demonstrating all of the wonderful things the Thneed could do.

"It's a shirt, it's a sock, it's a glove, it's a hat! But it has other uses, yes, far beyond that! You can use it for carpets, for pillows, for sheets, for curtains and hard covers for bicycle seats! And all of this for the low, low price of $3.98-"

Just like yesterday and the day before, a tomato came flying at him, hitting him in the back of his head. Not just one, but two, then three, then four.

"Filthy con artist!"

"Get outta here!"

"Revolutionary product my ass!"

Before more tomatoes came flying at him, he ran off, Melvin running along with him.

Back at his cottage, the Onceler showered and washed his clothes, not wanting the tomato stains on his shirt as a reminder of what a failure he was, and then that Lorax once again startled him out of his thoughts.

"No sales again, beanpole? Wow, this is getting funnier by the day."

"4 days, Moustache! I still have 4 days left, so leave! I have a Thneed to sell."

The Lorax left, mumbling a last "Yeah yeah, beanpole. I'll believe it when I see it.", that furry meatloaf could be so damn cocky sometimes.

The next day, the Onceler brought his guitar, determined to get the people's attention, sell his Thneed, prove the Lorax wrong, and make his family proud. But before he could start singing, a tomato came flying at him, hitting him in the stomach.

"Woah, people! Please, I haven't even started yet!"

"Good, don't!"

5 more tomatoes came flying at him, hitting him in his face, his stomach, his arm, his knees, and the back of his head.

"Just give up already, skinny!"

"Loser!"

"You're embarrassing yourself, stop it"

"ENOUGH!"

A girl stood in front of him, she was short and plus sized, but her voice was demanding. "At least he's trying, you uncivilized jerks!", she yelled, and the people walked away.

"Thank you so much, miss..."

"Norma Wiggins."

"Norma. That's a nice name."

"And who might I ask are you?"

"Onceler."

"Nice to meet you, Onceler."

This woman was a lot more kind than the whole city of Greenville combined, despite being short and plus sized for her age.

"Why are you trying so hard to sell this Thneed of yours?"

"Well obviously to make money."

"Hmmm..."

Norma studied the Onceler for a while, believing it was something more than money that made this man so determined.

"What?"

"Is there something more than that?"

"No. ...Why?"

"I'm good at reading people's intentions, there's something else that keeps you going."

The Onceler knew he shouldn't be opening up to a stranger, but he really wanted to get this off his chest. "I want to make my family proud, I was always told I would never amount to anything, so I want to show them that I will."

Norma got so sad when she heard that, she had no idea why someone who went through all of that kept his head held high. "Well, I hope you sell it soon.", she said before she left.

Back at his cottage, Norma's words kept repeating in his head, someone actually praised him. No one had ever praised him before, so it just felt weird to him, like he had butterflies in his stomach. The Lorax's voice startled him out of his thoughts once again.

"Hey, beanpole-"

The Onceler shoved him out of his house and said "3 days, Moustache, it's not over yet!", he flopped back down on his bed and drifted to sleep. When he woke up, he was at a loss for words when all of the animals were sleeping on top of him, all snuggled up against him. Pipsqueak woke up and when he saw that his friend was awake, he snuggled up closer to him like a cat or dog. It was absolutely adorable.

But the Onceler didn't have time to be in awe at this, he had a Thneed to sell and a family to make proud.

Again, he didn't sell his Thneed, not today, not tomorrow, not yesterday, not the day before that or the day before that. Today was the last day to sell this stupid Thneed, and just as him and Melvin were leaving, the Lorax startled him out of his thoughts.

"Beanpole, listen-"

At this, the Onceler just snapped.

"No, Moustache, you listen! I will sell this Thneed, I will prove you wrong, and I don't want to hear another word from you saying I can't. I WILL GET THIS RIGHT!"

And then he left.

In the city of Greenville, it was just like he expected, people crowding the gazebo, ready to throw their tomatoes.

"Listen, citizens of Greenville. I know it's been almost a week since I started trying to sell this Thneed, but I assure you, that if you just listen to me, I will grasp your attention, and I will sell this Thneed."

And fortunately, he was lucky enough, the people lowered their tomatoes, and started to listen. And the Onceler started playing his guitar and singing.

Everybody needs a Thneed

A fine thing that all people need

The Thneed is good, the Thneed is great

And it's just $3.98

Everybody needs a Thneed

It's revolutionary guaranteed

The Thneed is new, the Thneed is nice

And did you see that price

Since the glorious dawn of man

There's never been a thing to do what this thing can

So listen carefully

To all the wonderous things a Thneed can be

It's a sock, it's a suit

Boxing glove, parachute

A butterfly net, reusable diaper

An exercise pad, a runny nose wiper

A slingshot, a muzzle, a jump rope, a hat

The colorful sweater you put on your cat

Nothing else in this world can do that

Old or young, tall or short, thin or fat

REPUBLICAN, INDEPENDENT, LIBERTARIAN, or Democrat

Not even with that song, people were interested, because an onslaught of tomatoes came flying at him, hitting him all over his body. Some jerks even decided to throw rocks at him.

"You know what we need? For you to stop!"

"Yeah, you suck!"

"Yeah!"

The Onceler became numb, he could barely feel all of the tomatoes hitting him anymore. Mom was right, you'll never amount to anything. You're useless, you're a failure. Just ask all of these people throwing tomatoes at you. He stood up, took Melvin by the reigns, and walked away, trying to fight away the tears that were about to fall from his eyes. He stopped at a nearby trash can, yanked his Thneed off his neck, and stared at it for a while.

"My family was right, I quit."

And he threw it in the trash.

Back at his cottage, he started packing up all of his belongings, as fast as he could, he just wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. His stupid irrational sense of optimism got him into this mess, he should've been more hesitant, he should've never made a wager with the Lorax, now he had to go back home empty-handed. He didn't even bother to take his house down, the animals could use it now. A voice startled him out of his thoughts.

"Beanpole, where are you going-"

"In case you're wondering, no, I didn't sell the Thneed. I threw it in the trash, and you wanna know why? BECAUSE IT'S GARBAGE, IT'S THE STUPIDEST THING THAT I'VE EVER MADE!"

That yell caught the animals attention, and they all gathered around the man, wondering why he was packing up.

"So whoop-de-do, you were right, I was wrong!", he yelled at the Lorax, he grabbed Melvin by the reigns, "You win, I'm leaving.", he started connecting Melvin to his wagon, when he felt something on his leg. It was Pipsqueak, looking up at him with eyes that begged him not to leave.

"I'm sorry, little guy, but the Lorax and I made a deal, he wanted me to leave.", but Pipsqueak still wouldn't let go, instead he held on, still looking at him with those big eyes. The Onceler almost gave in, but he didn't, instead he shook his leg until Pipsqueak got all dizzy and pulled him off. Now he could finally leave. "Come on, Melvin.", he said to his mule, but he was startled when he saw Melvin sitting down with his hooves crossed. He also had a stubborn expression.

"Melvin, get over here right now.", the Onceler said with a warning voice, but Melvin shook his head. The Onceler ran out of patience, instead of arguing with his mule, he simply let go of the reigns and said "Fine. You know what? I don't need you. I can do this by myself.", he started pulling his wagon and walking away, "Goodbye, nice knowing you."

The wagon was, without a doubt, heavy. But despite that, he still kept pulling, singing a pick-me-up song.

Nobody needs a Thneed

A stupid thing no one will ever need

The Thneed is dumb, the Thneed is lame

Who's the idiot who came up with that name

Oh right, that was me

Okay, maybe it wasn't a pick-me-up song, but it kept him going.

The wagon got heavier when he got to steeper hills, but he didn't care. He didn't care if he was sweating, didn't care about how heavy it was, didn't care if he felt lightheaded, he just wanted to leave this stupid place. "Stupid mule.", he grumbled, he didn't understand why Melvin decided to stay even though him and the Lorax made a deal, "Stupid wagon.", he grumbled as he went up a steeper hill, having to push his wagon from behind. "Ah...stupid...", he didn't have enough breath to finish his sentence, he dropped to his knees and passed out on the ground.

The Onceler woke up to a blanket being wrapped around him, and Pipsqueak cuddling up to him. In fact, all of the animals were in his cottage, circling his bed, as if they were waiting for him to wake up. When they saw he was awake, they all started jumping and cheering, but the Onceler was still so confused.

"I don't get it."

"Hey, beanpole."

He turned to see the Lorax, sitting on Melvin's back.

"Did you bring me back here?", asked the Onceler, the Lorax only nodded, but that was enough to answer his question.

"Since you've started trying to sell your Thneed, the animals came to me, saying they didn't want you to leave. They've grown attached to you ever since the whole river incident."

The animals nodded, and the Onceler still didn't say anything, his mouth was hanging open, but he didn't speak. "But I thought we made...I thought you said-"

"Well I changed my mind, beanpole. I may be the guardian of the forest, in charge of every living thing, but my opinion isn't the only one that matters here. The animals want you to stay, so I guess I'll let you stay."

That really made the Onceler tear up, everyone was accepting him, not laughing at him, or shunning him. Even the Lorax, who hated him the moment he saw him, was willing to let him stay just so the animals would be happy. "Okay, I'll stay. And I promise you this time, I won't chop down anymore trees."

"And I'm still gonna keep an eye on you."

"Yeah yeah, I know."

Pipsqueak cuddled closer to the man, happy that his new friend was staying.

[my-own-lilypad]

Because of your last post, I want to ask you two questions. First, I agree with you.Luca's sexual obsession with Timmy is evident. However, isn't selling his body and sexualizing himself what all actors do? Tim was not a child and he made great use of attracting men and women at the same time.He knew how to use Luca's desire for him. And I don't judge him.And on the other hand, you seem to make it clear that Luca is a misogynist.Do you believe that? I mean, I share your opinion. There are very few gay men who have not fallen into that easy trap.

Hi, thank you for your interesting questions.

Your first question, yes I agree that is part of Timmy's job to sell his body as an actor and sexualise himself when it is required for the role - in context. I don't necessarily blame him as the artist, because what does that lead to? All artists should be censored or censor themselves? Not a good idea. And, as I say, he consented to it - you're right he wasn't a child - and he must be aware, then and now, of the desire behind it and be comfortable with it. He must be, right? His consent to Luca's choices must have been conscious. He also went on to create the illusion of a relationship between himself and Armie Hammer in order to promote the film. I think I just wanted to highlight that that relationship or 'sexual obsession' as you say, exists, that the desire exists. You said he knew 'how to use Luca's desire for him'. It's certainly an interesting angle. The film is concerned, in part, with beauty and what is aesthetically pleasing and I think Timmy is part of that beauty, but what about if the character was not a soft-skinned attractive young man? Would Luca have felt the need to include that butt scene? The blow-job and peach I can contextualise - the first being an indication that these two people are and have been physical with each other - and there was humour in it. And the peach scene being related to a young man's exploration of his own sexual desires and sensual feelings; it had an intimacy to it that wasn't necessarily sexual. But the nude butt scene I thought was gratuitous and relevant only to the male gaze - that was essentially my problem with it and made me question Luca. And the character in the field in Bones and All was female in the book. Luca made her male. It's pretty obvious the way that scene is filmed why he did that.

Your second question. I think yes I was trying to say that he is a misogynist, and yes it is a trap that gay men fall into. I'm glad you put it more clearly because I was meandering around the subject. Again I think I just wanted to draw attention to it. I would not have really thought the need to talk about it in any detail until I saw the Luca-Bret Ellis connection, that kind of nudged something in me that I suppose was already at the back of my mind.

[prettyboymichaels]

Psst

Shawn asking Bret for a bj by wearing a mistletoe belt

I feel this scenario would go something like this:

shawn, thrilled beyond belief, wearing nothing but a pair of boots, leather pants, and a belt with a sprig of mistletoe taped to the buckle: hey. hey bret. bret, hey. hey. bret h-

bret, who had been perfectly content under the covers of their bed reading a book, and had taken one look at shawn walking into their bedroom in this ensemble, which had been one look too many: michael shawn hickenbottom if you say what I think you're gonna say I can and Will make you sleep on the couch until the new year

[ill-be-your-honey-bri]

Call Me

I honestly am not a hundred percent sure where this fic had developed from but I thought it was an interesting plot that could have been manipulated many ways. and of course your girl went put smut mode on this one. 

That being said, the only warnings I have for you is smut, smut, smut, and some more smut. 

Don’t forget to like, repost, comment. You feed back means everything to me and I love seeing what you all like and don't fancy. 

Please enjoy and all my love,

I present to you, Escort Harry.

You were sitting at your dinette on the balcony of your penthouse, exceptionally frustrated. Sipping on your now cold coffee and pulling a cigarette from the gold case that was housing it. You lit the end with the matching gold lighter, slamming it on the table as you inhaled the nicotine to calm your nerves. You expelled the smoke from your lungs with an exaggerated sigh before picking up your phone to re-evaluate the email you just received.

Ms. Y/L/N,

You are cordially invited to the annual Forbes fundraiser for young entrepreneurs, blah blah blah…

Being that you own your own major company that has been featured in Forbes, blah blah blah.

We are expecting your attendance along with your plus one…

A plus one…

Well you are fucked now, aren’t you? You couldn’t remember the last time you had a ‘plus one’. You, this woman, fiercely independent, who built a company from the ground up on your own, and now you are expected to have a date to a fundraiser that you are being forced to go to.

You did the only thing you could think of at that moment.

You pull up Claudia’s number in your contacts, closing your silk robe over your nightgown while you put the phone to your ear and inhale the last puff from your cigarette before stamping it out in the marble ashtray.

The phone rings as you walk through the French doors from your balcony into your dining room, taking the last sip of your coffee before placing your mug on the dark mahogany dining room table.

“Hello, Y/N. To what do I owe the pleasure on this lovely morning at, fuck me, five forty?”

“Thank fucking god you’re awake!”

“Well, I wasn’t but —”

“Did you get that Forbes email too?” You put your phone on speaker while you pulled the email up for the millionth time that morning.

“I did,” Claudia said around a yawn.

“What is this shit with a fucking plus one? When has that ever been a requirement for these things?!”

You could hear her rustling around her bed, “I’m sure some man put it together and wanted to make sure everyone and the pope saw his new arm candy.”

“It’s ridiculous! Some of us don’t have time to have a ‘plus one’!” You sat on your suede sectional, curling your bare feet under your bum. Your long haired black cat jumped up and cuddled into your lap, both melting into comfort.

“I lay claim to Derek, he already said he would go with me.”

You began to stroke your cat’s ear, “Yeah well, you’re fucking Derek, so…”

“I can’t help that your assistant is young and hot, chickee. And so fucking good in bed…” Claudia began to stretch, letting out a moan.

“Thanks for that. Now what the hell am I supposed to do?”

“Don’t you have any friends? Second cousins?”

You stopped your petting, your fur baby giving out a little mew in protest, “First of all, ew. No family. Second of all, I don’t have time for friends. I have you because we have worked together for years.” You let out a frustrated sigh and went back to petting the angel on your lap. “What the fuck am I going to do, Claud?”

You could hear Claudia clunking around her kitchen, attempting to make her latte, cursing at her espresso maker. “Why not hire someone?”

You stopped your petting again, Lady getting annoyed and deciding to jump off your lap. “What do you mean, hire someone?”

“You know,” Claudia hissed after burning her tongue on her hot beverage, “like one of those sexy male escorts. You pay them and they are a nice piece of jewelry for the night.”

“Where do you come up with this shit?”

“That old bag that is always at these events, donates a shit ton and then falls asleep halfway through dinner? You know the one.”

You hum in understanding because you do know the one. Her overuse of minks and emeralds at every event, her hackneyed Chanel No. 5. Oh, and her dentures fell into her champagne flute last year. Yeah, that one.

“Do you really think that the strapping young hunk with her is actually her significant other?”

“I thought that it could be her grandson, maybe.”

“Oh hell no! She hired the boy! I hope she got her money’s worth, if you know what I’m saying...”

Claudia began to laugh as you started to make gagging noises. You sat there, thinking of any other option and you really couldn’t think of one.

“Let me do my research and I will email you the links. But babe, relax. We will figure something out, yeah? You can take my little brother if you need to.”

“No offense Claud, but I don’t really want to present to an event with a 17 year old and be labeled a pedophile… Thank you for helping me, truly.”

“Any time, sweets. Now go mastuarbate before you get ready for work. Got a big meeting today and need you to be calm and relaxed for it.”

“Jesus, Claud!”

“See you soon!” Claudia blowing you a kiss over the line before she hangs up.

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

You walked into your office with your go to Starbucks order in hand. Derek was sitting on the couch that was off to the side of your office, set up as a little meeting area with a set of armchairs and a coffee table in the center. Derek was sipping on his green smoothie and setting up your agenda for the day.

“I don’t know how you drink that shit. You’re basically grazing in the pasture,” as you take another sip of your overpriced corporate beverage.

“It is an energy boosting smoothie, thank you very much. It’s from the local smoothie place around the corner, it’s family owned.”

“Well good for you bud, but for me, it is about convenience and there are at least 50 Starbucks stores from home to here. A beautiful marketing plan if you ask me.” You smiled before taking another sip then placing it in its rightful place on your desk as you sit to turn on your computer and start your day. Derek stands up and places your daily planner in front of you.

“You have that big meeting today with the business partners. Claudia said she will be here in half an hour to help prep. And I have a list of escort services for you.” He had a folder in hand extended towards you.

You peered up at him, “Fucking Claudia.”

He began to smile and give a light chuckle, “Fucking Claudia. She never knows when to keep her mouth shut. There are a few men she had picked out as well, said she ‘knows what you like’. She will email you the links to their profiles.”

And sure enough, you get an email from her with an eggplant emoji as the subject of the email. You quickly exit the email, pulling up the documents you need for the meeting.

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

After getting home from dealing with arrogant, self centered pricks in meetings all day, you knew you needed to treat yourself to a relaxing bubble bath.

You ignored dinner, going straight to your wine rack and grabbed the first bottle handy. You filled the glass and began sipping at the sweet nectar as you were walking to the master bedroom. You padded your way to the en-suite to begin filling the claw foot bathtub. You added some vanilla rose bath melts and let the aroma fill your lungs before returning back to your bedroom.

You step into your walk-in closest to begin undressing, putting your jewelry in their rightful place and hanging the garments that need to go to the dry cleaners. After stripping, you throw on your silk robe and pull your hair up before walking back to the bathroom. You grab your phone and wine along the way, finding your ‘bubble bath’ playlist, which you connected to the Bluetooth that you had installed in your bathroom.

You put your wine and phone on the shelf next to the tub and hung the silk robe before melting into the warm embrace of the milky water. Lady had hopped up onto the counter to keep you company.

You close your eyes, take a deep breath and lean your head on to the bath pillow before slowly exhaling the air from your lips. You were finally starting to relax when the incessant thought about the fundraiser reared it’s nasty head at the forefront of your mind.

You look to Lady, who is curled up on the sink counter, the sound of Ol’ Blue Eyes lulling her to sleep. You take another deep breath before grabbing your phone and opening up that email.

Reinhardt, Claudia

Subject: 🍆

So, this company seems the most legit and had the best reviews on multiple sites. Overall, had the best looking dudes too. I picked out a few that I thought that you would like, you know, best friends and all. I will only be slightly offended if you don’t pick one of my gentleman callers.

Good luck chickee! xo

You took another sip of wine before opening the links to these ‘gentleman callers’ pages.

Travis; he was cute in a ‘use to be a skater’ kind of way. Had some muscle, a decent smile. Age, 26. Perfect. Height, 5’3”. Well, that won’t work. You close out his link and go to the next one.

Bret; could be a model with the blue eyes, black hair look and a jaw that could cut glass. You sit up slightly, scrolling down further into his profile. Age; 19. Fuck no. You quickly close the link and go to the next one.

You go through a few more and you begin to feel hopeless. They were all good looking but none of them sparked the desire to take them to an event where you will be spending endless hours with them.

You were officially going to give up until you saw that there was only one link left.

Harry; this guy can’t be real. Beautiful green eyes, silky curly hair, a really cute smile with dimples. The perfect amount of muscle. You held your breath as you continued to read his profile.

Age; 24. You could handle that.

Height; 6 foot. Perfect.

Reason why you joined this company; Honestly, I’m getting my masters in business at Columbia University. A scholarship and work study can only pay so much of the tuition. So he is smart and can talk about business if needed.

What can you bring to the table for your date; I’m personable and will make friends with anyone in a room. I’m the perfect date for a work related event because I can talk about anything. If you chose me, I promise, you won’t regret it.

You took the last bit of your wine as your finger hovered over the message icon. “I better not regret this…”

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

Harry just got home to his rundown studio apartment from his day working in the college library. He threw his backpack on his mismatching dining set before striding into the kitchen to heat up leftover Chinese. He threw the container into the microwave and began to strip on his way to his bed. He pulled on a pair of old grey sweatpants and went back into the kitchen to retrieve his food and a beer.

He climbed into his bed and turned on the TV, throwing on Family Guy before digging into his food. He got up at one point to get his phone that he left in his jacket, where he couldn’t remember where he threw it.

After finding it, he climbs back into bed and continues to stuff his cheeks with lo mein. He unlocks his phone to see he has some texts, a few emails, a bunch of messages on his Tinder app that he has been ignoring and a new message on his work email. Not the library job, but the job that no one knows about.

He gets emails regularly on his work email. Usually older women who want to make a statement at an event. Like “I’m still young. Look at the young man with me.” He doesn’t mind it because they pay a shit ton for him to just sit there and look pretty, but it gets boring. He would rather work overnight at the library and he is pretty sure it is haunted.

He opens the message and he sees your name. He drops his Chinese container into his lap, cursing at the grease stains that are now on his sweats.

He knows you. He knows you very well. He has written multiple research papers on your work, how you built a company on your own. He’s even rubbed one out to you a few times because your so fucking beautiful and unbelievebly smart.

Harry,

I apologize for how this message reads; I have never done such a thing before.

I have an event for a Forbes fundraiser and we are required to bring a plus one. Unfortunately, I do not have one and need to go to such lengths as to hiring one.

I have read your profile, multiple times if we are being honest, and I feel that you are best suited for the situation.

If you accept my offer, I will pay you handsomely and will schedule you with my tailor to get a suit for the event. Anything involved will be taken care of by me, you will just need to present by my side.

Please let me know if you accept my offer in a timely fashion.

All the best, Y/N Y/L/N

Harry’s mouth was gaping like a fish. You, you, need a date to an event and you asked him. He must be dreaming. He rereads the email a million times and tries to compose himself enough to respond.

Ms. Y/L/N,

It would be an honor to be by your side. Please let me know where I need to be and when and I promise, I will not let you down.

Harry

A few moments after sending the email he got notifications of events being added to his calendar. The first thing was his appointment with your tailor tomorrow morning.

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

Harry was standing outside the tailor’s shop, being a few minutes early and the door was locked. He could hear the clicking of heels and heard a familiar voice. You had presented at Colombia for seminars multiple times, considering it was your Alma Mater. He knew that voice because he attended every seminar that you were a speaker at.

You had your phone in one hand with your designer purse in the crook of the arm that was holding your phone. You had a tray with a few coffees in the other hand. He thought you looked powerful and beautiful in your burgundy blazer with a black tank top tucked into your houndstooth black and white trousers. A gold Gucci belt pulling the whole look together.

You smiled at him as you told whomever you were talking to that you had to go and that you will call them back. He about melted into a puddle when he heard you call his name.

He nodded with a smile while you put your phone in your purse and coordinated the drinks so that you were able to extend a hand to shake Harry’s. Your hand was so soft, he never wanted to let go.

“Thank you for being able to do this so quickly. The event is this weekend and I wanted to make sure that your suit was done in time.” You were smiling at him the whole time, like you have been friends for a lifetime.

“It’s no problem at all.” He smiled back as you took in a good look at him, seeming to be pleased with your choice. He unconsciously stood up straighter and clasped his hands behind his back as you turned to press the buzzer of the store front.

The door unlocked and he quickly grabbed the door to allow you to walk in first, as you gave your thanks. You strutted in like you owned the place and Harry could feel his cock twitch in his jeans watching you own the room.

A beautiful person was standing there waiting for you with gorgeous red flowing hair. They looked angelic with their light and soft features.

“Harris darling, this is Harry. You will be working with him on finding the perfect suit and tailoring it like the artist you are.” You sat on the white sofa, handing out coffees to the people around you, including Harry.

“I didn’t know how you liked your coffee, so I got it black but I have cream and sugar if you need it.” You pulled out the little paper bag the cafe had given you with the coffee fixings from your purse.

“Black is perfect, thank you.”

You smiled up at him as you handed him his coffee, he gladly took a seat next to you as Harris handed the two of you their portfolio.

“These are what I have in the shop now and the fabrics in the back are what I have at home, if you would prefer one of those.”

Harry scooted a little closer to get a better look that you quickly took notice of, so you moved so that the portfolio sat on both of your laps while your thighs touched. Harry’s breath hitched when he felt the contact but quickly brushed it off to continue looking at the beautiful suits.

“Is my dress done by chance? I would love to do the final fitting today as well.”

“Of course. I also have a few ideas of suits for you Harry that would go with the dress. Not so matchy-matchy, but to make sure you don’t clash.”

“Let’s try those, hm?” You looked at Harry with a sweet smile. All he could do was gaulp and nod.

You put the portfolio on the table in front of you before taking your blazer off and laying it delicately on the arm of the couch. You stood up and began to wander around, looking at Harris’ fall collection.

“I can’t wait to see these on the models. Absolutely stunning, Harris.”

“Wouldn’t have been able to do it without you, my love.” You smiled as you continued to explore.

Harry couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were so ethereal in your movements, so effortless. You seemed so gentle and he has only been around you for a few moments. He has always known you as a strong willed, fierce, badass woman. But now, he sees you as delicate porcelain. Not in a way that you could easily be broken, he doesn’t think that could ever be the case. But in the way that you need to be taken care of and adored fondly.

Harry was pulled out of his trance when Harris returned with an armful of suits, calling Harry to the dressing room. Harris helped him with trying them on, all of them being breathtaking.

You had gone into your dressing room with Harris’ assistant helping you put on your gown. You were never one for flash at events, so you asked for a simple black gown with some red detailing, red being your power color. You wore red lipstick or a red pair of heels to every event, so people would be expecting it.

You had walked out as did Harry and he was frozen. The black gown had off the shoulder straps and a sweetheart neckline, showing off your silky decolletage. It had a hip-high slit on your left leg showing off the delicious meat of your thigh, your heels making your legs look even longer. It was form fitting around the torso and hips with the fabric draping beautifully around you, cascading softly around your feet. The bottom of the gown and around the bust was detailed with delicate red stitching, creating a floral design.

And you couldn’t take your eyes off Harry. His suit was the same blood red as your stitching. The floral details of his suit were stitched in black and he had a black button up underneath with the top few buttons undone. Harris had already pinned the suit so it fit him perfectly. His thighs looked strong and thick, his shoulders broad. He was exceptionally handsome.

Harris squealed with how amazing you both looked and you matched without it being obnoxious. Harris walked you to the platform so he could do his final fitting on you. You and Harry couldn’t stop looking at each other in the mirror, the eye contact being strong and unwavering. The only thing that pulled you out of your trance was when Harris called your name to tell you he was done with you.

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

After getting back into your work clothes, you kissed Harris goodbye and Harry shook their hand. You told Harris that Derek will pick up the garments Saturday morning before the event.

Harry held the door open for you and let you walk on to the sidewalk first. You started pulling out your phone to check it, quickly turning off the screen before looking up at Harry.

“Do you need a ride? I walked here from my office but it isn’t far, I can drop you off.” You stood there waiting for a response and he was taking too long for your taste.

“Well come on then, I’ll take you wherever you need to go.” You started walking with a purpose, pulling out your phone again to give Derek a heads up of your plans. Harry quickly jogged to catch up with you.

“Thank you. Um, could you drop me off at campus?” You looked back up and smiled with a nod.

“Of course.”

When you got to the parking garage, you hit your key fob to unlock your car. You had a nice black Audi that you gracefully climbed into. Harry was treating it like a work of fragile art, not wanting to touch anything. You noticed that he was admiring your car, causing you to smile. “Are you a car kind of guy?”

“Um, yeah. I suppose. I know a pretty car when I see one.”

This caused you to giggle. “I may have another event for you then. One of my colleagues has vintage cars that he submits to a car show, he asks me to go every year. Maybe I’ll go if I have you by my side.”

Harry beamed at the idea, “I would like that.”

“It’s in the Hamptons so I would have to steal you for a couple of days. I have a beach house there. That’s if you don’t mind, of course.”

Harry had the opportunity to go to the Hamptons to spend a couple of days with you? How could he say no to that fantasy.

“That sounds great, just tell me when and I’m there.”

You started your drive to Colombia’s campus when you felt the need to talk about the one factor of this you had yet to approach.

“How would you like me to pay you? I can write a check or direct deposit if you would like.” You give a quick glance over to him while at a red light and you see him adjusting in his seat.

“Um, whatever is easier for you.”

“I think it will be more discreet if I direct deposit. I will give you my number and you can text me your bank information. I will be sure to delete it and would never do anything other than deposit money to you.”

He nodded in agreement, not that he was worried that you would take money from him. Not that he had a whole lot of money to his name.

You pulled up next to the campus and asked Harry for his phone to put in your number. “Whenever you get the chance, text me the information.”

“I will, thanks.” He stepped out of the car, slung his backpack over his shoulder and began to walk to campus.

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

Harry got home and relaxed for a bit, wrapping his head around the day. He got fitted for a gorgeous designer suit, rode in an Audi, and got invited for a long weekend in the Hamptons, all by the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.

He finally sat up and began to dig through his piles of papers on his counter to find his bank information. He quickly texted it to you, double checking the numbers were typed out correctly. He set the phone down and went to hop into the shower.

When he stepped out with a towel around his waist and another in hand roughly drying his hair, he picked up his phone and saw a notification from his bank.

Direct deposit of $5,000.

He stared at the screen for an undetermined amount of time before going to his contacts and calling you.

“Hello, this is Y/N.”

“That is way too much, you don’t have to do that, please just —”

“Harry, it is my money and I do as I please. You are doing me a huge favor and you will be with me for a full evening. Plus, you have to deal with a bunch of assholes, it’s the least I can do. Now, don’t ever question my decisions again, okay? My assistant will drop off your suit on Saturday morning. Please text me your address so he can do so. Have a good rest of your day.”

The line went dead, Harry was still in shock. He has never seen four digits in his bank account before and it happened in the blink of an eye. He decided to text you his address and asked no more questions.

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

Harry was pulling on the perfectly tailored suit jacket and ran his hand through his hair one last time before spritzing on his cologne when there was a knock on his door. He walked over to open it, seeing a man in a black suit that he has never seen before. The man gave Harry a nod and he began to walk to the stairs. Harry quickly grabbed his keys and phone before following the unnamed, eerily quiet man.

When Harry reached outside, there was a black SUV with dark tinted windows. The uncanny man opened the back door, exposing you looking down at your phone. Harry gasped when you looked up at him, lips painted red, flashing him a dazzling smile.

“Well, don’t you look handsome.” You scooted over so Harry could climb in. He honestly couldn’t help himself, but he had to stare at you. You had your legs crossed, left leg over your right, exposing the full skin of both of your legs due to the slit on the left side. His mouth began to water looking at the soft glow of your legs.

“So, I apologize in advance if some wives try to take you home with them tonight. Those old hags probably haven’t been screwed properly in ages since their husbands waste their viagra on some girls who want their money.”

Harry raised his eyebrows at you with a smile growing across his lips, “Why do I feel like you're not kidding?”

“Oh,” you let out a scoffed laugh, “because I’m not.” You look back up from your phone to gaze at Harry, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” You send him a wink, causing him to blush.

He beams back at you, “My hero.”

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

As you enter through the doors of the banquet hall, arm laced through Harry’s, you begin to get the urge for a cigarette.

You see previous partners to your company; ones that moved on to bigger and better things, others who screwed you over and you cut ties with. You see the old men that hit on you and the wives that stare daggers into you. They all told you that you weren’t going to make it and you proved them all wrong. Though some think you did it with a little help from what is between your legs or your harlot red lips.

You really need a cigarette.

You see Claudia standing across the way, holding out two champagne flutes for the both of you. You gently tug Harry with you, taking in how he is observing the room. He has an air of professionalism to him that can only come naturally; he’ll be a great business man.

“Knew you would pick this one! Had to save the best for last.” Claudia handed you both your bubbling spirit and put her hand out for Harry to shake, introducing herself and Derek.

“I need a cigarette and a stronger drink than this to get through the night.” You quickly downed the liquid, placing the glass on a nearby table, excusing yourself to the terrace.

Harry followed you out a few moments later, holding a rocks glass out to you. You smiled up at him reaching for the glass and taking a sip before handing it back to him so you could take a long drag. “Thank you.”

He leaned over the banister of the terrace to look out over the city, taking his own sip where your red lips had left their stain. You found it slightly erotic how he licked his lips after touching your mark, as if he had decided to take his sip at that specific part of the glass on purpose.

“So tell me, shall I be talking you up in there? Should be easy for me.”

You reach for the glass he is rolling between his fingers, taking another sip, “And why is that?”

He took the cigarette from between your fingers, admiring the vibrant stain before placing it between his own lips, slightly squinting his eyes as he took a drag. “I’m quite infatuated with you. I’ve followed your work from the start, wrote some papers on your business plans.”

You raised an eyebrow and watched him, studying his features that softened as the left side of his lip began to upturn, indenting his cheek to an adorable dimple. “To be completely honest? I started to follow you because I was terribly attracted to you. I saw you on the front of a magazine and…” he pursed his lips out with a smirk before he chuckled at himself. He looked up at you with his boyish charm before he stood back up and took his drink from you again.

“Oh, Harry, thought about me when you were lonely?” You gave him a false pout that grew into a smile.

He finished his drink before looking back at you, “Still do.” His smile and eye contact were never wavering as he stamped out your cigarette for you and took your hand to return inside.

Harry guided you to your table, hand on your lower back before pulling out your chair for you. He sat to the left of you next to another gentleman, who you had no idea what his business was. His wife was glaring at you as Harry was talking to the man, though the man was more focused on the cleavage exposed by your dress. Harry reached his hand to you, gripping onto the skin of your exposed thigh.

You could audibly hear the man whimper and his wife scoff as Harry’s thumb began to caress your skin. You could see Claudia’s smile grow as she takes a sip of her drink, watching Harry become possessive of you before her eyes. Derek caught her attention by kissing her cheek as the head speaker began his announcement for awards and donations.

As the night came to an end, you were thankful to have Harry at your side. He was holding his own, taking to other businessmen as if he had been conversing with them his whole life. He was able to talk business plans, discuss what he was currently learning in classes, he even gave a few men advice on future endeavors. To be completely honest, you were aroused by the power Harry held as he was working the room.

Harry had his arm wrapped around your waist as you walked to your awaiting SUV, holding your hand as you climbed in and he followed suit. You let out a content sigh, enjoying the silence in the car.

Harry reached across you, grabbing the back of your knee to pull both legs to rest on his lap. He gently unclasped the buckle of your heel, slowly removing it before placing it on the floor by his feet. He did the same with your other foot and began to rub his thumb up the arches.

You let out a satisfied hum at the pressure soothing your aching feet, resting your head on the window as you watched Harry focused on his work in hand.

“You did amazing tonight, Harry. Thank you.”

He looked up at you with his dimples on display, making the tightness you have felt in your stomach all night constrict even more. He looked proud, as he should.

“It was a lot of fun. Learned a lot.”

You smiled back at him, slowly blinking your eyes closed. “That old colleague I was telling you about with the vintage car show, Jack, he asked if we would like to go. It’s in six weeks if you are interested.”

“I’d love to.”

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

In the six weeks since the fundraising event, Harry had joined you on multiple smaller level events, including some work dinners and client matters.

His closest had grown exponentially in the six weeks, whether it was a suit for an event that you had purchased for him or he had found something designer he liked and he bought it with the money from his ever growing bank account, thanks to you. He has found pleasure in Gucci, also thanks to you. He has found that the luxuries he now has in his life was all in your taste, subconsciously wanting to please you.

You would comment on his attire he has purchased without your assistance, always beaming when you talk about what line it was from and how well it suited Harry. He loves the feelings he gets when you praise him.

He was packing his bag for the weekend trip to the Hamptons, having just gone shopping for some outfits for the occasion. He had also bought some things to spruce up his studio apartment, making it look more put together and modern rather than a frat boy's bedroom. Your taste even makes its appearance in his decor.

You had knocked on his door, waiting with coffee in hand for the both of you. He opened the door with a wide smile before allowing you to enter the apartment. He had his clothes neatly folded on the bed, waiting to be placed into the leather duffle bag you got him for the occasion, another ‘thank you’ on your part.

You sat on his bed, sipping your coffee while watching him put his toiletries in the matching leather shaving bag, which was also a praise gift. He was dressed in grey sweat shorts and a simple black T-shirt with his short locks held out of his face by a red bandana. He was still barefoot walking around while he was finishing up.

“Do you have the word ‘big’ tattooed on your toe?” Your ever present smile grew as you leaned closer to get a look.

Harry chuckled, scratching his jaw “I may have been drunk and did it myself.”

You shook your head with a giggle of your own before taking another sip of your coffee, leaning back in Harry’s bed.

Harry was trying to will away the semi he was sporting. He had never seen you in lounge clothes and the black leggings you were wearing were doing crazy things to Harry’s body. You were wearing your Columbia Alumni shirt, tied in a knot at the waist to show off the curves of your hips that the leggings were hugging. Your hair was up messily, making Harry want to pull it down from its restraint so that he could muss it up with his own fingers. Your Clubmaster Ray-Bans sat on top of your head and your skin looked fresh and dewy with no makeup on.

Harry took a moment in his kitchen when he was getting his hydro flask to take a breath and squeeze himself through his shorts to take away some of the ache. He’s not sure how he is going to handle a whole weekend if this is what it will be like.

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

You stopped at a local gas station before leaving the city. Harry offered to fill your tank while you went into the shop to get some snacks for the trip, getting your essential Swedish Fish and Redbull while Harry asked for gummy bears and orange juice.

Harry was already sitting in the passenger seat when you returned, him now having his Wayfarer Ray-Bans on; he only bought them when you said he would look good in them. He was playing on his phone and perked up when you slid in the drivers side.

You handed him his goodies while you promptly opened your bag of candy to set between your thighs and cracked open your can of liquid energy. You began your hour and a half drive to your beach house in the Hamptons. You had your favorite Spotify playlist playing through your speakers, both of you humming along.

“Want some?” Harry looked up at you confused as to what you were talking about. You smiled as you glanced over before returning your gaze to the road. “Some fishies, help yourself.” You nodded down to the bag between your thighs as you took another sip of your drink.

“Thanks.” Harry reached over, dipping his hand between your thighs that you involuntarily widened when his hand approached. He looked up at your face when he slowly dipped his fingers into the bag to grip a few red fish, reaching for the few that were closest to the apex of your thighs. He could feel your heat at his knuckles as he pulled a few gummies out, sticking his tongue out as the candy approached his lips.

You adjusted in your seat, shocked that you were turned on by a man grabbing and eating a candy. Then again, it was Harry. He has been torturing you with his good looks since you clicked on his link.

The ride was uneventful for the rest of the time, Harry watching as expensive homes, luxurious boutiques and restaurants whiz by as you enter the Hamptons and make your way toward the beach.

You pulled up to your beach house, clicking the garage door button on your phone before parking. You grab your trash and put them in the appropriate receptacles that you keep in your garage. Harry was already grabbing your bags out of the car, allowing you to unlock the door freely. You held it open for Harry, stepping into your small mud room, both kicking off your shoes before walking further into the home.

The first view Harry had was of the beach through the windows that filled the wall of your dining room. He walks past the open concept kitchen to go straight to the windows, watching the waves crash on the shore. You open the french doors that lead to your back porch that has stairs that lead down to the sandy beach. You let some fresh air waft in as you go to the kitchen to take stock of what you need to go shopping for.

Harry was still standing at the window with both your bags in hand before you went over to rub his back and grab your bag.

“Come on, I’ll show you your room.” You guide Harry past your open living room to the stairs, leading him up and to the right. “This will be your room. You’ll have your own bathroom and there should be fresh towels in there for you. I’ll be right down the hall if you need anything. I’m going to hop in the shower.”

Harry watched as you walked away, seeing you pull off your T-shirt as you were shutting your bedroom door, briefly exposing your black bralette. Harry ran his hand down his face, feeling the pulse return to his groin. He quickly shut and locked the door before situating himself on his bed, promptly pushing his shorts and briefs down his thighs, reaching for the high end lotion you placed by the bed for guests.

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

Harry had taken his own shower after relieving himself after he made a proper mess on his thighs and hand. He climbed down the stairs to the smell of curry and Elton John playing through the speakers.

“Figured we should eat a proper meal since we haven’t yet today, so I ordered some Thai.”

You both sat on your back porch, enjoying the view as you ate your take out. You chatted about the next day, telling Harry about the car show and what to expect when it comes to Jack.

“He's like that eccentric drunk uncle at the Christmas party that you love but don’t want to deal with.”

You enjoyed each other’s company, watching the sun start to set on the horizon before calling it a night and turning in.

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

After waking up from a restful sleep, Harry got dressed in his running shorts and hoodie, throwing on his running shoes before walking to your room to let you know he was going to go for a run along the beach.

Your door was cracked open slightly, Harry able to see you laying on your bed. He stepped closer to the door, about to push the door open further when he heard an ever present whimper. He wasn’t sure if the noise was due to your sleep, but his question was answered when he looked at you in your detail.

Your legs were spread open, two fingers deep to the knuckle as you were laid open on your comforter. You were pumping into yourself as you had your other hand up under your sleep shirt, groping your breast and rolling your nipple between your fingers.

Harry thought he was dreaming, seeing the delicious sight in front of him. Harry couldn’t help himself but to dip his hand in his shorts to start palming his hardening member. Your whimpers going straight to his cock, the arch of your spine off your bed making his mouth water.

You looked over at your door, eyes barely open, pausing your movements briefly when you saw Harry in the crack of the door. Your eyes trail to see him pumping his hand in his shorts, thinking that you should give him a good show.

He didn’t notice that you had seen him but he did notice that your legs had spread further as you pulled your glistening fingers out of your core to rub them on your clit, causing you to moan louder. You pulled your shirt up completely to expose yourself fully to Harry, all without him knowing that you were aware of his wandering eyes.

Having him watch you work yourself got you to your brink. Your eyes were glued to his pumping which was now frantic, causing you to lose control, snapping your legs shut around your hand as you came undone. You could hear Harry attempt to muffle his grunt as he made a mess of his shorts, causing a blissful smile to grow across your swollen lips. You gently rolled your fingers around your clit, spreading your legs again for Harry to watch as you ease yourself down from your high.

The next time you looked at your door, Harry was gone.

You got out of bed with an annoyed huff, getting a shower before wrapping yourself in your robe to head downstairs to make coffee and a quick breakfast. You grabbed your plate of eggs and toast with your coffee and cigarettes, stepping out on your back porch to enjoy the air while trying to calm your aggravation.

You don’t know why you are annoyed with Harry not making a move on you while you were self pleasing, but you were. You wanted that to be the moment to break down the walls built by the pure sexual tension between you. You knew he wanted you, he had told you he had touched himself to you, and now, you had seen him touch himself to you. You were on the brink of sinking on your knees and pulling him out to prove how much you wanted him too.

Harry climbed up the stairs, all sweaty from his run as you were finishing up your cigarette. He could sense the irritation coming off of you but he wasn’t sure why. Maybe you had caught him and you weren’t happy about it. He would just die if that was the case. He sat down in the chair that wasn’t taken over by your resting feet. He noticed that you were only picking at your breakfast as he untied his shoes and kicked them off so as to not trail any sand inside. He leaned back in his seat, taking a deep breath before pulling his hoodie off, T-shirt coming off with it.

You couldn’t help your mouth watering seeing him now topless and glistening with sweat, watching his chest rise and fall while trying to catch his breath. You sat up and ripped a piece of toast before popping it in your mouth, now refusing to look at him.

“Have a nice run?” You continued to poke at your eggs, acting like you're eating them but you are just trying to occupy your eyes.

“Yeah, it was nice. Been a while since I ran on a beach.”

You hummed at his response before standing up and grabbing your things. “We will be leaving in an hour, Jack wants us to meet him at the country club before the car show.”

Harry nodded at you but you promptly walked inside, ignoring his reply before dropping your dishes in the sink and going to your room to get ready.

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

You knew you were being petty. You knew that he couldn’t read your mind but god you wished he could. You were just finishing your hair when you heard a knock on your bedroom door. You walked over to see Harry clad in red and white gingham trousers and a white button up with the sleeves rolled up, just sheer enough to make the outlines of his black ink. His hair was perfectly slicked back with a few curls having some definition to them. He had a look of cowardice as he tucked his hands in the pockets of his trousers.

“Looking handsome, as always.” He gave you a soft smile at the compliment before fully taking you in. You were in a white knee length sundress that had big roses printed on the fabric. Your one shoulder strap annoyingly falling down, which Harry promptly grazed his fingers against your skin to slide the strap into place.

Harry’s gaze raked back up your frame before looking you in your eyes, “You ready?”

You nodded at him, grabbing your Michael Kors wedges off your bed before walking out of your room ahead of Harry. You made your way to the mud room to switch your purses and to sit on the bench to slip on your shoes.

Harry grabbed your shoes for you, kneeling in front of you, gingerly wrapping his fingers around your ankle to slide your foot into the wedge, pulling the zipper up at the heel. He had done the same to your other foot, this time watching you watch him. He gently placed your foot to the floor before standing up straight and putting his hand out for you to help you up before walking to your car.

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

The car ride was silent, omitting the random questions Harry had regarding the country club and Jack. You adjusted your sunglasses after you had parked, reaching into the back seat to grab your bag. You were about to climb out but Harry gripped your wrist, pausing your motions.

“Y/N…” you looked at him as he had reached to push your sunglasses off your face to look you directly in the eyes. “I’m sorry about this morning, when I saw you. I should have left you in private but I just couldn’t help myself. I needed to see you, need to see you like that. If it ruined any type of relationship we may have, I thoroughly apologize. You should know that I never meant to invade your privacy but… fuck, I just can’t help myself with you. My body takes over when it comes to you and I am so sorry. Please, forgive me?”

You sat there in silence, trying not to smile at how cute Harry was. He was giving you the puppy eyes as his thumb ran over your wrist in gentle circles. You were pondering on how you should approach it; Do you tell him it was no problem? Ignore it and act like nothing happened? Or…

“I only got off because I saw you pump your cock watching me.” You leaned over to kiss his cheek before stepping out of the car to the entrance of the country club.

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

Jack loved Harry. They were chatting it up outside, Jack with a cigar in his mouth and Harry with his mimosa in hand. You were ordering you both another one when Jack’s wife, Sharon, approached you at the bar.

“He’s a looker, sweetheart.” You smiled at her before telling her honestly how you met. Jack and Sharon were always supportive of you. You had been Jack’s intern at his company when you were in undergrad, Jack promptly hiring you when you were getting your masters. He taught you everything you knew and Sharon taught you how to enjoy the finer things in life, including Harry.

“Cut the shit with the escort thing and make him your man. He’s a looker, he’s smart. Jack already adores him and is calling him son. You know how hard it is to please that man.”

You looked back to Harry and Jack, both laughing at one of their dad jokes. Harry looked up to see you looking at him, smiling and twiddling his fingers in a wave. He finished his drink, prompting him and Jack to walk back inside to you girls.

Harry had adjusted the strap of your dress that fell down again and you were handing him a new mimosa, sipping out of your own glass. Harry placed his hand on your lower back, watching you as you engage in the conversation Jack and Sharon were having.

An announcement was made that the fairway was now open for guests to look at the cars. Jack quickly downed his drink before exiting like a kid being allowed free range of a candy store. Sharon promptly followed her husband as Harry guided you to follow, grazing his hand down to your bum to give it a soft rub and light tap.

Harry followed Jack around as he was explaining to Harry all the ins and outs of all the vintage cars on show. What gave them value, their rarity, what he likes and dislikes of each car. Sharon and you following behind, enjoying the sun and the wine slushies you had grabbed from a vendor.

Harry took a particular interest in a white 1966 Mercedes-Benz 230SL, stalking around it to take in the details. He smiled to the owner when they came over to talk to Harry, showing the car with the roof down.

“He’s got good taste. He’s enamored by you and the car.” Jack elbowed your shoulder, causing the strap of your dress to fall again. You looked at him as you adjusted the dress with a smile.

“How can you tell?”

“Well, I can tell he loves the car because that’s how he looks at you, doll.”

You look back to Harry, who is now sitting in the driver's seat, running his hands along the steering wheel. Harry shakes hands with the driver before walking back over to you, grabbing your slushie to take a drink himself.

You look up at him, pushing your sunglasses into your hair to take him in fully. “You like?”

Harry put his hand on your hip, taking another sip of the slushie. “She is a beauty. My dad has something similar but not as pristine.” He looked back over his shoulder to look at the car as his hand continued to rub at your hip.

“She is pretty. Looks like a pearl.” You looked over his shoulder with him to take her in.

Harry kissed the top of your head, handing back your drink before going to follow Jack and Sharon as you sneak off to talk to the owner.

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

You enjoyed your dinner with Jack and Sharon, catching up on your businesses as well as discussed Harry’s future plans. Jack had offered Harry an intern position at his company if Harry was interested.

Jack and Sharon wished you and Harry a good night before you went your separate ways to your cars. Sharon gave you an extra squeeze and told you to “be nice to that boy”, sending you a wink.

You climb into your car to see Harry beaming. “I think they liked me.”

You smiled back at him, “I know they like you. Wouldn't stop coming up to me to tell me how i should keep you around.”

Harry was leaning his head on the headrest to look at you, “Do you want to keep me around?”

“Should I keep you around?” You started your car and began to drive away, Harry still watching your every move. You could see him in the corner of your eye, both of your smiles growing. His hand made its way to your thigh, pushing your skirt up so that his hand could rest on your bare skin. You hummed at the warmth of his palm.

“So you liked when I was watching you?” His hand began to slide further up your dress and your legs had spread further for him, as they tend to do more frequently than not as of late.

“I loved it.”

He hummed at your response, “Do you like being caught? Dirty girl.”

You moaned and moved your left leg so Harry could touch every inch of you, you lifted the skirt of your dress to expose your lace covered core to Harry.

“Want me to finger fuck you here, dirty girl? Right in your car, while you're driving? You’re fucking filthy.”

He started to run his fingers through your folds and you tried your hardest to focus on the road. You weren’t far from your home at this point, trying to stay safe while focusing on Harry’s delicious fingers learning the dips and curves of your core.

“Should I wait to fuck you properly when we get home? Been thinking about it all day.” He unbuckled his seatbelt to get closer to you to nose at your neck. He started to dip his fingers into you as he was kissing any exposed skin.

You finally made it home, abruptly parking your car in the driveway. You undid your seatbelt, promptly taking Harry’s hand that was between your legs to plunge his fingers deeper into you. Your head tipped back as Harry’s fingers hit your favorite spot. Harry quickly made the come hither motion, rubbing his fingertips where you needed him.

“God baby… you’re my dirty girl, huh? Fucking yourself with my fingers.” Your grip tightened around his wrist as he nipped at your jaw. Your thighs began to tighten around Harry’s hand which caused him to remove himself from you. You let out a whine at the empty feeling and the pure desire that was burning in you.

You turn to Harry with lust filled eyes to see him shamelessly suck on each finger that was buried in you individually. “Going to give me a proper taste later. Aren’t you, sweet girl?”

Harry had climbed out of the car, grabbing the keys from you to unlock the door. He began to unbutton his shirt in the mud room as he was kicking off his shoes, you watched with a panting breath, still in the front seat of your car. Harry tucked his hands in the pockets of his trousers, bare chested, and gave you a nod to follow him inside.

When you finally entered your house, Harry was in the kitchen with his head in the refrigerator. He pulled out the container of strawberries and slid them onto the island. He closed the door before turning to lean on the island, popping the container open with a flick of his finger. He grazed the tips of his fingers across each strawberry, deciding which one was the juiciest berry.

“Go get in your shower. I will be there in a moment.” He gripped the stem of the red fruit, tongue grazing it’s flesh before he sunk his teeth in. He made sure to look at you as he licked his lips free of the sweet juice.

You thought that two could play at this game, standing in place as you unzipped your dress and letting it fall freely around your ankles, exposing you in your strapless bra and panties with your wedges still on before climbing up the stairs. Harry stood up straight as you began to walk away.

You quickly undressed as you started your shower, getting under the warm stream while patiently waiting. The anticipation was killing you. It felt like you had been standing under the running water for hours with Harry nowhere to be found. You decided that you would actually start your shower routine.

You were facing the water, rinsing off your face free of makeup and face wash when you felt Harry’s grip on the back of your neck. He pressed his body close to yours so that you could feel his erection on your bum and so that his mouth had access to your ear.

“What am I to do with you, filthy girl? Spent months thinking of you with your legs spread open, just for me and then you have to go and fuck yourself with not only your fingers, but mine as well.”

He used his left hand to guide yours to the wall for support while his right hand trailed down your body, immediately finding purchase between your legs. His middle finger was quick with making circles around your sensitive nub while he laced his fingers with yours against the wall.

“Dreamt about touching you,” his fingers dipped lower, grazing your glistening entrance. “Tasting you,” he began to pepper kisses along your shoulder. “Fucking you.” He thrusted his hips behind you, his hard on grazing perfectly between your cheeks.

“I’ve wanted to for so long my sweet girl, just know that it’s because I want this, not because of the job. Fuck the job honestly. I just want you, all of you.”

He gave a gentle push to your upper spine to have you lean over slightly as he grips his member, swiftly sliding himself into you and quickly gaining a rhythm with his thrusts. He was quick but not deep, causing you to press your cheek to the cold time for support. His thrusts became deeper and rougher, causing your gentle whimpers to become moans that bounced against the tiles.

Harry gripped your thigh, pulling it to spread you open further while he guided you to rest your foot on the bench of the shower. His moans were muffled by your shoulder that would have his mark by the end of this. Harry’s hand continued to rub circles on your clit, making your legs tremble and for your to lean back upright into Harry.

“Feel good baby? Fuck, you’re such a good girl taking me. Feel so fucking good.”

You could feel his hips stutter against you, causing him to roll his hips slowly into you. You let out a moan and grip the wrist of his hand that is making work on your mound.

“Mmm you like that? Going to cum for me, sweet girl? Let me feel you.” His fingers started to move in rapid figure eights, causing your leg that was propped up to quickly fall and close Harry’s hand between your thighs. The new tightness of your core with your legs closed caused Harry to moan out and still within you, feeling your orgasm throb around him.

He began to kiss down your spine so he could be on his knees. He gently gripped your hip to turn you around so you could finally face him. He looked beautiful.

As he was kissing your lower belly, you took in his wet hair slicked back, his cheeks and chest flush from orgasm, his lips red and swollen. He used both hands to spread your thighs open so that he could see his cum drip from your core. He looked up at you in awe before quickly running his finger through your folds, catching both his and your arousal. He extended his hand up to you, telling you to ‘open’ before he popped his slick finger between your lips. He let you suck his finger to your desire as he dipped his tongue between your folds, moaning at the taste of your mixture.

Harry had stood up and held your jaw before leaning in for your first kiss. He was gentle, holding both sides of your jaw as his tongue grazed your lip to allow him to taste all of you. He pressed you gently against the cool wall as he continued to kiss you breathless before pulling away and grabbing the shampoo to wash your hair for you.

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

It had been a few weeks and you had finally received the call telling you that you could pick up a gift that you had purchased for Harry. You had bought it prior to him giving you the good news that he had accepted the internship with Jack, but he doesn’t need to know that.

You called him and told him that you were on your way to pick him up with the plan to go for a celebratory dinner. You texted him when you were out front, climbing out of Harry’s gift to lean on the passenger door to await his arrival.

When he walked out, you beamed at how handsome he looked with chartreuse wide legged trousers with a black stripe along the side and a black button up. When he turned to look at you, he was frozen.

The white 1966 Mercedes-Benz 230SL.

You lifted your hands with a ‘surprise’ and a beaming smile. You acted as if you were one of those girls on the Price is Right, explaining all the details, ending with “And she could be all yours Mr. Styles, for the price of a kiss.”

Harry climbed down the front stairs of his apartment building, still in awe of the car but quickly grabbed your face and placed multiple quick kisses to your lips before wrapping his arms around you.

“Sweet girl, you didn’t…”

“You stop. I did and I wanted to, you deserve it. You’ve been working so hard and you got the internship with Jack. We’ll be working together before you know it.”

He looked down at you and gave you a gentle smile before giving you another longer, sweeter kiss. “Shall we go for a ride?” You held the keys up for Harry, who promptly took them before opening the passenger door for you.

Harry drove around the city, following your directions to a more secluded area by a park. The sun was setting as you told Harry to park the car. You looked at him adoringly, your fingers rubbing through his growing locks.

Harry turned to look at you with that all knowing glare, “Did you bring me all the way out here just to screw me, dirty girl?”

You were already climbing across the seat to straddle his lap, unzipping the front of your dress, exposing you had nothing on underneath. You pulled Harry’s head back by tugging at his hair to look up at you. “We need to break her in, don't we?”

Harry groaned before sitting up to give you a searing kiss, his hands trailing over your exposed skin as you were kissing the skin of his jaw and neck. “We could get caught, you know?”

You pulled away, looking down upon him with a devious smirk, you began to undo his belt and zip of his trousers. “Good.”

Harry let out a moan as you dipped his hand in his trousers, pumping him lightly before pulling him out.

“Fucking filthy girl.”

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

Harry was being added to all the invitations to your work events as if he were a part of you. At this point, he was. Claudia being sure that everyone knew that Harry was an up and coming businessman who was in love with New York’s finest and most beautiful businesswoman.

And everyone adored Harry. How could they not? He was charming, handsome, smart, and an amazing lover. But people didn’t need to know the last part. Well, except maybe Claudia, she was your best friend.

Harry was just as adventurous as you when it came to your intimacy. Always suggesting new things to try, always feeding your hunger. Tonight was no different.

You both had played with the idea of fooling around at a public event but never made any formal agreement. Tonight, you were invited to a gala at the Guggenheim so Harry had used it as an opportunity to fulfill your fantasy.

Harry had stopped by Harris’ to pick up both of your garments and he also stopped at Eve’s Garden on his way to your home. Harry had walked into your penthouse with the garment bags and a little black plastic bag in hand.

You were in your en-suite finishing up your bath, putting lotion on while sitting on the edge of your tub, humming along to Etta James as Lady was curled up on your vanity, licking her paw. She chirped when she saw Harry in the doorway, slinking her way to him for some loving pets.

“Hello, my sweet girls.” You beam up at Harry, rubbing the last of your lotion into your hands before standing up to give Harry a saccharine kiss, also giving Lady a pet. She would never forgive you if you didn’t.

“Thank you for picking up my dress, handsome.”

“Of course, my love. I picked up a little something else.” Harry gave you a small smirk before turning to your room, you follow suit. Harry sat on your bed, patting his lap for you to sit on.

He pulled black bag out from behind him as you sat in his lap. He handed you the bag, undoing your robe to kiss the skin of your collar. You pulled out the vibrant cube box that was nondescript. You rotated it in your hands to try to figure out what it was.

“Open it.” Harry continued to kiss your skin, opening your robe more to expose your chest to him. You opened the box to see a vibrator, a We-Vibe specifically. The box began to vibrate without you touching anything, Harry pulling his lips off your skin to show you that he is controlling it with his phone.

You let out a laugh in disbelief, “Oh, baby.”

Harry smiled at you before getting a good grip of you to lay you on the bed. “I figured we could have a little fun tonight.”

You laid on your back and spread your legs for Harry, who settled on his knees between yours. Harry had pulled the vibrator out of the box, going to the bathroom to sanitize it like the gentleman he is. He made eye contact with you on his way back to you, sucking on the vibrator as he crawled back up the bed.

He shamelessly rolled it against his tongue as his free hand ran up your inner thigh. Harry pulled the vibrator out of his mouth, hollowing his cheeks to spit on the tip of the vibrator before running it through your folds. He gently pushed it into you, watching you as you take a quick inhale.

“You okay, sweet girl?” You gave him a small nod before grabbing his hand to help him adjust it to a more comfortable position within you. Harry rubbed the tops of your thighs before leaning forward to give you a gentle kiss. “Let's get ready, hm?”

You both got up to get ready, you waddling slightly as you walked to your closet, adjusting to exciting new object between your legs. You let out a squeal when you felt it begin to vibrate.

“Just testing it!”

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

Dinner was really rough on you, Harry having his phone permanently attached to his hand under the table. You were starting to get sweaty around your hairline and upper lip trying to keep your moans at bay.

You were reapplying your signature lipstick after finishing dinner and Harry took it as an opportune moment to give you a pulsing vibrate, causing you to give a light moan as your mouth was open and your hand holding your mirror fell to the table soundly. Claudia, Derek, Jack, and Sharon all look at you as Harry tries to hold back his smile, clearing his throat and rubbing his two fingers on the tip of his nose.

“Are you alright, chickee?”

You also cleared your throat and nodded as you felt the intensity between your legs increase and the pulsing become more frequent. You closed your eyes and let out a hum, gently rubbing your lips together before suggesting you go to the bathroom, giving Harry’s thigh a squeeze.

You made your way out of the dining area, Harry quick to follow, telling your friends that he was simply checking up on you. You heard the click of his boots on the marbled floor, the vibrations being between your legs making your knees buckle as you feel Harry’s grip on your bicep to pull you in his direction.

He pulled you into a more private area that was closest to where you were, which happened to be a coat closet. He smeared his lips against yours, smudging your scarlet lips. Harry’s hand was quick to run up your skirt to pull the toy from you, promptly placing it between his lips to suck off your juices before sticking it in his inner jacket pocket.

Harry fell to his knees before you, hiking up your skirt around your waist, gripping your hands to guide you to hold the skirt up for him.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me tonight baby.” He was kissing along your thighs, “Stayed nice and quiet for me, though I hate it. Need to hear you scream for me now, darling.” Harry lifted your leg so it rested on his shoulder while his hands pinned you against the wall.

You felt his fingers tighten around your hips as his nose rubbed against your mound, pecking kisses, occasionally giving your skin a soft lick. You moan softly and look down to see Harry already peering up at you through his long lashes. “Going to need you to be louder than that, sweet girl.”

Harry sat up on his hunches to pull himself out of the restraints of his designer trousers. He lifted his palm up to you, “Spit.”

You gladly spit in his palm before he started to stroke himself, letting an unashamed moan out of the back of his throat. “Been so fucking hard for you all night. Was palming myself under the table all through dinner.”

You spread your legs further as Harry scooted closer, returning to giving you gentle kisses to your mound and lips. You could feel his moans against your skin as he was pumping himself and spreading you open with his tongue.

Your head tipped back as Harry began to dip his tongue into you, gently sucking your lips and clit individually into his mouth. You continue to let out tiny mewls, and Harry needed more.

“Louder, dirty girl. I want them to hear you in the dining room.”

“I need you to fuck me if you want me to do that, baby.”

Harry quickly removed your thigh from his shoulder and climbed to his feet. He still had a grip on your thigh, slinging it over his hip so he could simply slide into you, which was easy to do with how slick you had become from Harry’s incessant teasing all night.

You both moaned out at the feeling, finally having you full of him, just what you needed. What you both needed. You let out a loud moan when Harry started thrusting his hips into you, begging for him to go harder as you dug your nails into his suit jacket. You quickly pushed it off of him so that you could get your nails into him properly.

“Fucking hell, my dirty girl really needs me, huh?”

You nodded at him, letting out another moan that caused Harry’s hips to thrust erratically. His hand gripped your ass to pull you closer, his other hand went to your jaw, his thumb running over your ruby lips, smearing the color.

“You look so good when I fuck you baby girl.” You licked his thumb, tasting the remnants of your lipstick. You grind your hips against Harry, egging him on.

“I need you harder.” You begin to lift your other leg to wrap around Harry’s waist, him gripping your thigh and pinning your harder to the wall with his hips. He took your direction and began to thrust into you harder, hips snapping at a feverish pace. The sound of your skin slapping and your strangled moans sent Harry into overdrive, using his pubic mound to grind perfectly into your clit causing you to gush slightly around Harry’s member.

“Fuck, dirty girl. Got you squirting on me.” The look on Harry’s face was a look of awe as well as pained trying to hold back from his own orgasm. Your thighs clamped around his waist as your second wave came over you, constricting Harry causing him to come undone. Harry’s hand flew up to the wall to support the two of you as you slowly came down.

Harry kissed your cheek and jaw mumbling how perfect you are and that he loves you over and over. You grip his jaw as you unhook your ankles to plant yourself to the floor. Kissing him and praising how good he treats you, how much you love him.

“We should probably get back, hm?”

“I think that since we are both a proper mess,” he tried to remove some of your smeared lipstick with no luck, smiling down at you, “we should probably just head home.”

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

“So what happened with you and Harry last night?” Claudia had asked you as you were both eating your salads from Derek’s go-to local bistro.

“Hm? Oh, I wasn’t feeling well so he just took me home.”

“Not feeling well as in, ‘tummy not well’, or ‘he fucked you so good in the coat closet that you couldn’t walk’ not well?”

You choked on your salad, taking quick sips from your water to clear your throat.

“He said he wanted everyone to hear you and boy did we!” Claudia began to laugh, taking another bit of food and giving you a cheeky smile as you blushed.

“I wanted to check up on you, as girls do, and the next thing I know, I have my ear pressed up to the coat closet getting turned on by Harry’s dirty talk to you.” She shrugged it off as nothing as you covered your face in embarrassment.

“You told me you both are adventurous but lord have mercy. Getting everyone hot and bothered by it.”

You finally loosened up, giggling slightly as you asked her, “Did you notice how I was off throughout the night?” She nodded as she licked the piece of green hanging out of her mouth to guide it where it belonged.

“Harry got us one of those remote vibrators…”

“Oh my god! He was fucking with you all night?! I would take him in the coat closet too! Fucking hell! That’s so hot though. Was it nice? I mean clearly, but would you do it again?”

As you were about to respond, Jack walked in with Harry beside him. He looked so handsome when dressed in a more casual suit for work. His hair was growing longer and he was too lazy to shave that morning at your place before work, so he had a slight scruff to him.

“To what do we own the pleasure of you fine gentleman?” Harry winked at your cheeky remark.

“Well sweetheart, wanted you to be the first to know. Harry has accepted a position at my company and would like to discuss a business proposition with you.”

You couldn’t help but to jump up to your feet to run over and give him a hug and kiss, doing the same to Jack.

You clear your throat to appear to be more professional, which no one in the room took seriously. “So what is this business proposition that you have for me?”

Harry cleared his throat and you didn’t realize that Derek and Sharon had also made their way into your office. Harry tucked his hands in his pockets, getting a nod of approval from Jack.

“I know that our start was quite unorthodox in nature, being as you had hired me as a date to an event. That being said, I have come to learn a lot more about you than I had when I was just a simple fangirl of yours.”

You giggle at his natural joking nature but know that there is true sentiment to his words.

“I have been utterly in love with you before we even met but being with you and getting to truly know you has cemented my thoughts and feelings for you. I know that we have been official for less than a year but I don’t think I could handle another moment of my life where I can’t say that we will be each other's forever.”

You could hear Claudia and Sharon squeak and gasp as Harry pulls his hands out of his pockets, his left one holding a small velvet box.

“Y/N, my love, my sweet girl. I promise to love you and take care of you for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?”

You were beaming with your eyes brimmed with tears, sniffling with a giggle. “There is only one problem.” Everyone froze in their movements, anticipating what you will say next. “I get to keep taking care of you.”

Harry let out the breath he was holding, “Fair enough.” He reached for your left hand to place the perfect engagement ring on your finger. Standing up to give you the most perfect kiss from the most perfect man. And to think that you had ordered him online.

[arsenicpanda]

Okay okay me again: Jughead is a yikes? Or monkey paw?

Oh ding ding ding, you found the last of the smut. Jughead is a yikes? is essentially Betty ogling Jughead but getting interrupted by a girl trying to do her a favor and telling her he's not worth it, and then Betty goes full, well, Betty about it, which is the part I'm stuck on, actually. monkey's paw is just...yeah, that's just porn. It's Betty and Jughead agreeing to sleep with Donna and Bret (respectively) after Bret and Donna escape prosecution for Jughead's murder, but it's like in one sitting, so it's kind of an orgy, except one where there is no mixture of three or more people that want to have sex as a unit. It's very much a weird power play, and idek how in character it is, but it is fun to write, because it's Bret and Donna getting what they want kind of, but, well, very much on Betty and Jughead's terms; it's called "monkey's paw" for a reason. It's actually supposed to be in the same series as the sex tape fic(s), with the whole thing being "you can (not) get what you want".

Anyway, excerpt time:

From Jughead is a yikes?

But Joani continues: “Two: I know he looks hot, but that personality...yikes.”

What.

“I’ve got a class with him, and let me warn you, he’s that guy.”

This bitch.

Jughead is not that guy. Jughead is insightful and thoughtful and witty, and anyone would be lucky to have him in their class. Bret was that guy, Joani clearly doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Really, what kind of idiot thinks someone as wonderful as Jughead is that guy?

(I'm sorry, Betty, but he is "that guy".)

monkey's paw (warning for smut):

Unable to tear her eyes away from Betty, Donna hears rather than sees Bret choking on Jughead’s cock, the gagging noises that are accompanied by Bret’s own moans.

Jughead doesn’t make a sound.

Unfortunately removing her hand, Betty gets up and strides over, her heels click-clacking on the floor, and Donna follows her with her eyes. The confidence in Betty’s steps makes Donna’s clit throb, and her inability to do anything about it makes her twitch.

When Betty reaches Jughead, she rests her head on his shoulder and brings her wet fingers up to Jughead’s lips. As he takes them into his mouth, she asks, “Any better?”

Cock deep in Bret’s throat but no longer thrusting, Jughead is lost in sucking Betty’s fingers clean, eyes closed in concentration and moaning around them.

“Juggie, I asked you a question.”

Finally removing Betty’s fingers with a pop, Jughead licks his lips before replying, “No.” He snorts. “Not even a fraction as good as you were the first time. But then, that tongue of yours...you really have a gift.”

Now it’s Donna’s turn to gag.

The whole thing has an underlying cruelty to it, and it ends in one last blow (no pun intended) from Betty and Jughead against Bret and Donna. Betty and Jughead are going to enjoy themselves in terms of pure sex, but they’ll enjoy toying with and humiliating Bret and Donna more.  It's such a mean fic, idk if I'd ever finish it, but it's fun to review every now and then, even if I don't add something to it.

[malethirsty]

The Master & The Prinxe - Seth Rollins & Finn Balor

Summary: Seth Rollins has been the lightning rod of anger from the WWE Universe and it’s starting to affect him. After Kevin Owens insults him by bringing up The Shield, Seth is at his breaking point. However the arrival of a friend from another brand throws everything up in the air.

Warnings: M/M smut (21+), Violence

Authors Note: This was a fic I had posted on my personal account @thesimonkshow​, reposted here because this is where my M/M fics go. 

Seth Rollins was in a bad mood. He had just confronted Kevin Owens about his defection to NXT at War Games & he retaliated by bringing up Seth betraying The Shield, which had happened once, incomparable to the opposing RAW team members consistent level of betrayal, which seemed to happen every other day.

He didn’t notice the pacing of feet as someone sat down besides him “Well hey there Seth. Someone got you hot and bothered?” Seth turned to see Finn Bálor, his friend & also a member of the NXT team this evening. “And why would I tell you?, you’d only use it to further your team.” “Now why would I do something like that? I may be on their team, but you & I run deeper than this match.” Finn responded. Seth sighed, it seemed he would be safe. “Fucking Kevin Owens, I brought up War Games, cause I was worried about our team that I have pit my grieviances aside for, and that bitch brings up me betraying The Shield, when he’s on Betrayal number who fucking knows?” Finn chuckled “That little cunt wouldn’t know loyalty even if it decked him in the face.” Seth let out a gutteral laugh, somehow things felt better when he was with Finn. They had grown close when they first feuded, the connection deepening when they would face The Miz for the Intercontinental Championship, Seth even considered making him a Shield member, maybe something even more, but anytime he thought about it, his mind returned to Dean & he pushed the thought away.

“It seems like your putting your reputation on the line for people who couldn’t give a shit about you. They just throw you away like you’re nothing. I remember when I faced The Fiend, everyone wanted me to lose, I was so alone, so unhappy. And when I lost I heard the audience cheer & I felt so full of rage, like darkness just filled me. I waited for my moment to strike, and when it came, I ripped Johnny Gargano from limb to limb, I became The Prinxe.” Seth listened to Finn entranced by the Irishman’s words, he felt the same way, he’d tried to stand for the lockerroom, for Vince, for WWE, but found himself hated and despised. Legends had tried to stand up for Seth like Bret Hart, but their appreciation did the exact opposite of what was intended. Hell In A Cell was both a release of that tension but also rock bottom, the hatred became like acid, attacks on him became more frequent. After emerging from that damn hole after being attacked by The Fiend at the draft, he had felt humiliated, but that quickly turned to rage, he had felt that same anger Finn felt.

“Yeah, I know what you mean, after everything that has happened, when I beat Bray up & set fire to his house, I felt so good, like at WrestleMania where I won the Universal Championship. I felt like Seth Rollins again.” “When Hunter pulled me from the roster & got me back to his brand NXT, I felt like I had just won the Intercontinental title again. So on top of the world, even though I should have known I was all along, I just needed that push.” Seth paid attention to every word Finn said, it felt as if his friend knew his struggle & was giving his hand to help, the only person he cared about was giving him a way out. “Listen, I have to get back to my team, but I heard you weren’t gonna be wearing your RAW shirt, so if you choose, I got you something more your style. See you out there.” He pushed a package into Seth’s hand, grinned and set off. Seth opened the package, making sure no one was looking & grinned, he knew what he had to do.

The match was fury and fire as expected, Drew scored a big opening by knocking Dominik Dijakovic out in a few moments and to Seth’s delight, Kevin was quickly chucked by Tomasso Ciampa. After a lengthy match, he, Roman & Finn were the only surviviors. He knew Roman would form an alliance with him & sure enough “We take Finn, then you & me” he heard Roman whisper in his ear “Always man” Seth said back, Roman advanced forwards. Seth knew, now was the time.

He raced up behind Roman, low blowing him, putting Roman into a Pedigree & let Finn take him out. The crowd, already hostile enough on it’s own right, began booing at an alarming rate. Seth caught Finn’s eye & Finn knew what Seth wanted to do, he slipped out of the ring, marched to the announcer & tore the mic out of their hands. Returning to the ring he passed Seth the mic, the crowds now preceding to chant ‘CM Punk’ as loud as they possibly could. “SHUT UP!” Seth screamed with so much malice and venom exuding from his booming voice, that everyone actually listened and fell silent, even the commentary team. “For years I have been the one paving the way for WWE, creating The Shield, becoming the beacon for all of the heels when I joined The Authority, setting a precedent for Money In The Bank when I cashed in the Main Event of WrestleMania, a precedent yet to be topped! I became a Grand Slam Champion & even came to your aid when Brock Lesnar had this division by it’s balls and wouldn’t let go, TWICE!” Seth sucked in an angry breath & continued “And how did you repay me? You went beyond the booing expected by the WWE Universe. You spat on my reputation, you cursed my name when I disagreed with AEW, when I tried to stand up for everyone in the back, you hoped for The Fiend’s success, though he’ll soon run through the entire division, treat us like he was treated by Vince, until the entire division is buried. You wished for my death just for your own pettiness to be sated. You ran from me, just like your precious Roman Reigns ran.” He kicked Roman’s unconscious body emphasising his point. “He ran, all the way to SmackDown & besides our match at the Draft never once bothered to check up on me. Use me to achieve his selfishness of wanted his ‘Band of Brothers’ back together, and what did he do? Threw me away like I was disposable. Dean left because Vince used him, got the crowd to hate him through his turn that night, through those orders of saying he wanted Roman dead. Dean saw through it, much earlier than this time last year, he was right to leave.”

Seth looked at Finn, every word he said about the universe turning on him, he meant, not just for himself but for Finn as well “There was one man who truly cared, and that” he gestured over to Finn, watching on with his trademark smile, not filled with love, but with pure evilness, joyful at how Seth was brutalising everyone “was Finn Bálor. He was the only one who knew exactly what I was going through, cause he was there in my spot just months ago. He even knew I wasn’t myself, so he got me something that showed he knew me, what I’m all about, what I should have been about from Day One.” Seth ripped off his Red Chicago cover & the entire arena gasped. Below it, Seth wore Finn’s package, a half shirt, one side with Seth Freakin’ Rollins, another a side decorated in gold and black, the NXT logo emblazoned on the front.

“The Prinxe saw me when I was feeling the strain & gave me a way out. So Monday’s will no longer be Monday Night Rollins, cause I am no longer here to please you or anyone else. I’m in it for myself like Finn, doing things because I want to. I’m The Master of NXT, and if anyone gets in my way I will BURN. THEM. DOWN.” Seth let out his familar heel cackle & threw the mic away, hitting Corey Graves in the face with it. As the crowds boos sounded, he no longer cared, he was liberated, himself again. He grabbed Finn’s hand, the two survivors, the two that would always survive & strode to the back of the arena, they turned & in unison, raised Finn’s trademark guns, and shot right at the centre, where Roman still laid broken.

NXT would go on to win the evening, and a party at the bar was where everyone went, even the Undisputed Era, still sore but exctatic that their brand won the night. Triple H was the only one whom noticed Seth & Finn were not there, he rang them both, letting them know where their victory party was. Unbeknownst to Triple H, Seth & Finn were partaking in their own victory party. In Finn’s apartment, the two had thrown off each others clothes, both men on the bed, Seth’s head thrown back in ecstasy as Finn’s mouth worked his cock. “Fuck Finn, I’ve wanted you for such a long time.” Seth moaned, Finn proceeded to suck Seth’s balls, Seth letting out a sharp groan “Fuck, I should have told you earlier, I put it to the side, scared of hurting Dean, no more, I do what I want from now on.” Finn moved up to Seth’s face, kissing him. “And what does The Master want?” He asked, flirtingly, Seth gripping onto Finn’s back, nails digging in “You, Finn Bálor.” He threw Finn onto the bed, sinking into his tight ass. Both men moaned as Seth began to fuck his Prinxe “Fuck, you feel so good around me Bálor. So good for your master.” Finn gave Seth a seering kiss “We work with each other, now and forever, the NXT division will tremble before both of us, together on our rightful thrones, the way we knew it was from day one, the way it should have been.” Motivated by Finn’s powerful words, the two began to thrust faster and faster, the clock on the wall, the pouring of the rain, the buzzing of their phones, all lost to their pleasure. “Seth, Master, I’m about to cum.” Finn moaned out loud as Seth grabbed his dick and began to jerk it, desperate to get Finn off, to get his Prinxe to orgasm. “Seth yes, keep going. SETH FUCK!” Finn screamed at the top of his lungs as he came, landing atop of Seth’s chest. He leant down and licked it off, causing Finn to moan. “God Finn, your ass is so tight, I’m going to cum!” Seth made to pull out but Finn shook his head, he wanted Seth’s load. Seth moved his hand onto Finn’s torso, gracing every single one of Finn’s amazing abs. “God, I love you Finn Bálor.” Seth’s face, eyes and whole body lit up with adoration as he thrusted with more strength than he’d ever had, leaning down to kiss Finn as he came, shot after shot filling Finn’s ass. Pulling out slowly, Seth collapsed next to Finn. Pulling him in for a kiss. “Wow babe.” Seth grinned at Finn “You’re welcome babe.” The Prinxe letting out a cold laugh, one that many would never thought they would hear out of the good hearted Finn Bálor, but one that was soothing to Seth as The Master laughed coldly as well “We’ve got each other now though, as we truly are: The Master & The Prinxe.” Finn moved up to Seth’s face, Seth leaning down, catching his soulmate’s lips in an Earth shattering kiss.

[tameodesza]

Love's Maze (BretShawn)

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AO3 link

Shawn can no longer deny what his heart wants

Inevitably, Shawn and Bret grew much closer after the passionate night they shared.

Bret’s feelings were a little more on the forefront than Shawn’s, but he didn’t push his luck. He kept his promise to be there for Shawn, to wait until he’s ready, and to be the friend he needed. And although he was giving Shawn time to sort himself out, it didn’t stop Bret from going the extra mile to make the blond feel special.

One of Shawn’s favorite moments was when Bret surprised him with a cupcake for his birthday, a single candle lit in the middle to celebrate him turning 27.

“What’s this all about,” Shawn asked as he entered the locker room, spotting the cupcake cupped between Bret’s hands.

“This is for you.”

An effortless smile tugged at Shawn’s lips as he said, “You got this for me?”

“Yeah, uh, happy birthday,” Bret said awkwardly.

Touched, Shawn asked in almost disbelief, “You remembered my birthday?” He recalled telling Bret the date once a long time ago, so long ago that he wouldn’t blame the man if he forgot.

Bret gave a tender smile, “Of course. Make a wish.”

Noting how quickly the candle wax was melting, Shawn closed his eyes, wishing for happier times before blowing out the candle.

Shawn made a move to grab the cupcake, but not before leaning forward to kiss Bret softly on the lips. “Thank you,” Shawn whispered as he grabbed the cupcake from a flustered Bret.

Shawn ended up splitting the cupcake and sharing half of it with Bret before they got ready for their match.

There were so many other moments, too many to count, that made Shawn’s heart skip a beat – such as the times where Bret would wait for him after a show to make sure he made it to his car safely, or when Bret would snag an extra sandwich from catering when Shawn would skip lunch, or even the times where Bret would force himself to go to the bar to be Shawn’s drinking buddy for the night despite the late hour.

Regardless of the scenario, Shawn became increasingly aware that these ‘little moments’ were having huge impacts on his feelings towards the older man.

Not to mention, the two still occasionally had sex, the dick being too good for Shawn to only have once. But as pleasurable as it was, it didn’t help to uncomplicate either of their feelings.

It was approaching a year after his breakup when Shawn began to seriously think about being something more than friends-with-benefits with Bret.

“Fuck, I don’t know what to do, Kevin” Shawn whined to Kevin Nash, the new guy he’d convinced Vince to bring to the WWF to better help with his HBK gimmick. 

Although the two hadn’t known each other very long, they quickly became friends, both feeling as if they’d known each other for a lifetime. Kevin was beyond appreciative of Shawn for giving him a job and promised to always have Shawn’s back.

And Shawn was grateful to have another friend in his corner besides Scott.

Marty had been long gone by the time Kevin came to the WWF, but from what little he heard from Shawn about the relationship, he knew it must have been pretty volatile. The somber look that flashed in Shawn’s eyes anytime Marty’s name was mentioned told Kevin that the topic was off limits. 

It was during Kevin’s second week at the WWF that he picked up on something going on between Bret and Shawn. The way Shawn’s eyes lingered on Bret, the way he’d blush and look away when they locked eyes, and especially the way he would leave their hotel room late at night to ‘visit’ Bret’s room only to return the next morning.

Kevin never said anything, but Shawn’s crush was all too obvious.

Kevin sighed as he watched Shawn frantically pace their locker room. “Here’s a clue,” he said mockingly, “why don’t you just go talk to him?”

Shawn rolled his eyes before saying, “It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” Shawn cut himself off, looking down at the floor as he said weakly, “I’m damaged goods, Kev. Why would Bret want someone so broken like me?”

Kevin said sternly, “You’re not damaged goods, and I don’t ever want to hear you say that again. Got it?”

Taken aback by the serious tone, Shawn hastily retracted, “Ok, ok. Sorry.”

But Kevin didn’t let up. “You had a bad breakup with a guy. So what? Does that mean you should never give yourself a chance to find love again?”

Shawn folded his arms as he moped, “No…But what if he changes his mind? What if after realizing how fucked up I am, he runs for the hills and breaks my heart just like Marty did?”

Finally understanding Shawn’s self-doubt, Kevin softened a bit, saying, “Then I’ll beat him up for you. I’m not your bodyguard for nothing, right?”

That got a smile out of Shawn. “Promise?”

Kevin smiled back, pulling Shawn into a hug as he said, “Promise.”

So it was set. He was going to tell Bret how he felt – that he was finally ready to give them a shot.

Bret had been not so secretive about liking Shawn, but there was still a voice in the back of the blond’s head that told him things could change. However, there was no turning back, especially with Kevin knowing. The taller man would probably tell Bret himself if Shawn failed to do so. 

After the live show that night, Shawn knocked on the Harts’ locker room door, waiting briefly before Bret opened the door with that perfect smile of his.

“Are you free tonight?” Shawn sort of blurted it out, certainly not playing it cool as he intended. “I mean, can I swing by your room tonight?”

The question itself brought a light blush to both men’s faces as the question could have been interpreted in multiple ways.

Bret looked behind him at Owen who was unashamedly eavesdropping on the conversation, as per usual. Owen said all too happily, “Oh, you don’t have to worry about me. I’ll room with Davey tonight.”

Bret turned his gaze back to Shawn, nodding as he said, “Yeah, you can swing by. I’ll wait up for you.”

Shawn nodded. “Ok. See you then.”

As Shawn turned to leave, he was stopped when Bret asked, “Hey, is everything ok?”

“Yeah. We just…we need to talk.”

We need to talk. 

Those words replayed in Bret’s head all night as he awaited Shawn’s arrival. Out of all of the phrases, why did it have to be that one? Bret only associated that phrase with bad news, and the more the night dragged on, the more he wished Shawn hadn’t said it.

Did he do something to upset Shawn? Did Shawn want to stop being friends? Did he find a new lover?

There was one point where Bret wondered about Shawn and Kevin, the two seeming to get close pretty fast. What if that’s what Shawn wanted to talk about? Did something spark between the two?

Bret surely hoped not. 

He had no idea what time the younger man planned on coming over, but his nerves rose with every passing hour.

He decided to occupy his mind by tidying up the hotel room, though it was already clean. He then took a shower, though he’d already taken one at the arena. He settled on reading the takeout menu of a nearby Chinese restaurant, though he was far from hungry.

Anything to keep him distracted.

His heart pounded when he heard a knock at the door. Bret took a deep breath as he made his way to the door, putting on his best carefree smile before opening it. However, his smile dropped as soon as he opened the door to reveal a widely grinning Owen.

Why was it always Owen?

“What do you want,” Bret tsked.

Owen said defensively, “I was just dropping by to say good luck.” Bret made a move to close the door in Owen’s face, but stopped when Owen exclaimed, “Hey, wait! I also came to drop this off.”

Owen handed Bret his signature Hitman jacket. The fact that Bret had forgotten it in the locker room spoke wonders to how frazzled he was.

Bret took the jacket from Owen as he said, “Thanks.”

He was stopped from closing the door again when Owen asked, “Just to be sure, am I good to come by later tonight or will you be…occupied?” Owen wiggled his brows suggestively, obviously alluding to Shawn.

“Bye, Owen.” Bret then shut the door for good, drowning out Owen’s whining on the other side of the door.

It wasn’t until an hour later that Shawn would finally arrive, this time Bret looking out the peephole after hearing a knock on his door.

“Hey,” Bret said after opening the door to reveal Shawn who looked as stunning as ever.

“Hey,” Shawn said meekly, barely making eye contact with Bret.

The men stood there in slight awkward silence, prompting Bret to ask, “Are you coming in?”

“Yes, sorry,” Shawn said as if snapping out of his own thoughts.

After closing the door, Bret turned to see Shawn standing in the middle of the room, twisting his hands nervously in front of him. And that’s when Bret knew that the conversation they needed to have was happening right then.

He let out a breath, walking closer to Shawn as he said, “So, you said we needed to talk.”

“Yeah. Yeah, we do. Can we sit,” Shawn asked as he gestured to the bed.

“Sure,” said Bret, both men sitting on the edge of the bed at an arms-length apart, the distance not going unnoticed by Bret.

The silence seemed to linger on as Shawn gathered himself. Regardless of how much he prepared, he still had no idea where to start.

In essence, it should be easy. It was Bret he was talking to, the most understanding and nicest guy he’d ever met. He shouldn’t be so nervous to tell him how he feels, especially after knowing how Bret feels about him.

Bret’s mind was racing a mile a minute as he thought of all of the various ways Shawn would end their…whatever it was they had going on.

Shawn meant so much to him, and if couldn’t be around the blond anymore, Bret honestly had no idea what he’d do. So much of their lives consisted of each other now, and there was no doubt that Shawn’s absence would leave a mark.

Shawn broke the silence as he said lowly, “Um, so…uh…fuck, I have no idea how to say this.”

That did little to ease Bret’s nerves, his palms beginning to sweat as he listened intently. “Is something wrong?”

Shawn shook his head, “No, no.” He was becoming frustrated, thinking to himself ‘fuck it’ before saying bluntly, “I like you. Like, a lot. Like…more than friends. And it scares me. I-,” Shawn closed his eyes, slouching into himself as he said, “I don’t know.”

Bret looked on at a loss for words, not expecting that to be Shawn’s confession. It was apparent to Bret that the blond was nervous, but he wanted Shawn to know there was no reason to be as this conversation was long overdue.

So he stretched out a hand, lightly grabbing Shawn’s and giving it a squeeze in encouragement. “Tell me what’s scaring you,” Bret said gently.

Shawn opened his eyes, drifting his gaze to their hands as his heart beat harder against his chest. He took a breath, finding comfort in Bret’s touch before finally lifting his head to look at Bret.

“I’m scared that I don’t know how to love anymore. I’ve been through so much shit that…I don’t know… I don’t know if I can be a good partner. I just don’t want to get hurt again.”

Bret nodded, brushing his thumb against the back of Shawn’s hand. “I understand-”

“That’s the thing. You always understand. You get me so well, it scares me. It’s weird. I feel like you know me better than I know myself. And I feel like I’m not worthy of your love, Bret. That’s the honest truth. It’s like, you’re the perfect guy and I’m…not.”

Bret shifted a little closer to Shawn, their thighs touching as he closed the distance between them. He said, “Nobody’s perfect, Shawn. Not even me, as hard as that is to believe,” which caused Shawn to form a slight smile.

Bret said seriously, “I like you for you. That means the good, the bad, and whatever else comes with it. I would never expect you to be perfect. What makes me like you is the fact that you’re not that. You’re unapologetically yourself, and I’ve never met anyone like you.”

Shawn let out a small whine as he placed his head onto Bret’s shoulder. “You always know the right thing to say.”

Bret unlinked their hands to wrap an arm around Shawn’s shoulder, bringing the man much closer. “I’ve said nothing but the truth. Promise.”

They sat there for a moment just holding each other, Shawn finding much-needed comfort in Bret’s arms. A comfort Bret gladly provided as he waited patiently on Shawn, not rushing the man to finish his thoughts.

Neither man was sure how much time had passed, but their silence was interrupted when Shawn said matter-of-factly, “I have trust issues.”

The comment came seemingly out of nowhere, but Bret had a feeling he knew what Shawn was trying to do – give him a reason to change his mind.

So Bret decided to play along, tightening his hold around Shawn as he said, “I snore sometimes,” as if that were a worse dealbreaker.

Shawn snorted, caught off guard by Bret’s response. He lifted his head from Bret’s shoulder to look up at the man, biting his lip in an attempt to hide the smile that was trying to form.

Shawn continued the charade, “I can be a brat.”

“I’m a serious cuddler.”

“And I can be clingy.”

Bret grinned, ghosting his lips over Shawn’s as he said, “Looks like we’re a match then.”

Shawn smiled lazily, realizing that his plan had failed. “You’re really hard to scare off, huh?”

“I’m not one to give up easily, especially for those I care about.”

Shawn broke eye contact, dropping his head onto Bret’s shoulder before lifting it again to look at the man. He took a deep breath before saying, “Ok. So, I like you. And you like me. What does that make us now?”

Bret reached up a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind Shawn’s ear, stroking the blond’s cheek as he said, “That’s for you to say.”

Shawn really wished Bret wouldn’t make him say it, the blond barely being able to form a coherent sentence with the man so close to his lips.

With his last ounce of courage, Shawn planted a soft peck onto Bret’s lips, pulling back slightly to whisper, “I’d like to date – exclusively,” he emphasized. “If you’d like?”

Bret felt like doing cartwheels out of sheer excitement, and he probably would have if it didn’t involve him having to detach himself from Shawn. The radiant smile that spread across his face was enough to let anyone know how happy he truly was.

“I like the sound of that.”

“Really?” Shawn questioned as if expecting Bret to say otherwise.

Instead of responding, no longer able to contain his joy, Bret gave Shawn a kiss that took the blond’s breath away. He kissed Shawn as if he’d never be given the opportunity again, as if Shawn would run away as soon as he let go.

It wasn’t just a kiss. It was a kiss that eased Shawn’s worries, telling him that everything would work out just fine, that they would figure it out if things got tough, that it was ok for Shawn to fully allow himself to love again.

Shawn was first to pull away, needing to catch his breath before he said coyly, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Bret smiled, pulling the blond back into a kiss, this one deeper and more sensual. “I’ve been waiting so long for this moment. You have no idea how happy I am.”

That truly made Shawn’s heart melt. He wrapped his arms around Bret’s neck, saying sheepishly, “I’m happy, too.”

Both men took the moment to look at each other, getting lost in each other’s eyes as reality set in. They were a couple. They were together. They were boyfriends.

They spent the night in each other’s arms, discussing their relationship – their wants, desires, expectations. Their future together. Bret was optimistic, ready to show Shawn how much he cared about him and how he should be treated.

Shawn was content, honestly excited to share his future, his new journey, with Bret as he welcomed love like an old friend.

[nonchalantdanger]

Lost Souls Wandering

“I have a theory that all artists are lost souls wandering their way back to Paris” -- Atticus.

Heh, I think I’m clever. Arras is won by the French, and we spend a final night in Arras with our characters. This is where my and @theimpossiblescheme‘s AU canon’s diverge a bit, but PLEASE go read Yesterday, Tomorrow, and Today. 

In which there is revelry, Roxane finds her way, and an unexpected ally appears:

To give credit where credit is due, the Gascony cadets do nothing by halves. They marched to war with grins, accepted death with a proud upward tilt of their chins, and now they celebrate their victory and toast their lost comrades with songs and wine and drunken dancing. De Guiche has already issued the news that they are to return to Paris in the morning, and the Spanish had retreated far enough that no fear of an ambush could worry them.  

Roxane is enthralled by the raucous ongoings of the camp around her; she has been toasted as a goddess of war by nearly all of the men able to stand and walk over to her — and a few more besides — her hand kissed to tingling, and her cheeks near-cramped from smiling. Even so, none of the joy echoing around her can match the comparatively quiet delight that has brightened Cyrano’s adamantine blue eyes to the most saturated of azures. Like chips of lapis-lazuli set within his smile-creased face, Roxane finds herself admiring their gem-like glint from her place seated at his side. Occasionally, he catches her scrutiny, his grin widens, and it takes every willful bone in her body to refrain from leaning over to kiss him again. 

Their fire is set a little away from the epicenter of merriment, a quieter refuge for the senior cadets — Cyrano and Le Bret — herself, and De Guiche. A singed hat marks the space in between she and the Comte, its bright peacock plumage marking it as the late Captain Castel-Jaloux’s; he would have joined their circle had he survived. 

Roxane is surprised at De Guiche’s presence; by her observation, between his decision to remain with the Gascons during the Spanish assault and the valiant fighting he must have done in the battle, the Comte had discarded his haughty arrogance, replacing it with a small, warm smile and the resigned chagrin of a man who has earned — not purchased — genuine respect from those who do not give it lightly. Cyrano’s distaste for De Guiche has similarly bled into a cool detente since the end of the fighting. To Roxane it is fascinating to see the two, previously so at-odds, sitting with only the pleasant crackling of the fire between them. 

Le Bret shifts in his seat, and Roxane hears the crack of his bones across the flames. 

Cyrano chuckles. “You are getting old, my friend.” 

“Hush.” Le Bret punches him none-too-lightly in his uninjured arm. “Your mouth threatens to be as big as your other appendage.” 

Any other man who would make such an implication as Le Bret would have had his guts ribboned on Cyrano’s blade, but the older cadet — and Cyrano’s oldest friend, besides Roxane herself — seems blessed with a rare leeway. Cyrano laughs, takes the blow with remarkable good humor, and helps Le Bret to his feet when the latter announces his goal to obtain more wine before the rest of the company drinks it all. He limps away, favoring his good leg heavily. Cyrano returns to his place just out of Roxane’s reach. 

De Guiche, who had stiffened upon the reference to Cyrano’s nose — no doubt remembering his unfortunate companion Valvert’s encounter with the aforementioned feature — relaxes once more, but only for a moment. Something piques his scrutiny; curiosity shifting in his dark gaze. His eyes sweep around the fire, marking the carefully maintained space between Cyrano and Roxane, and the riotous celebrations happening around them. His brows draw together and his eyes narrow further the longer he looks about. Roxane does not know what he is searching for, until De Guiche’s gaze once more returns to flicker between she and Cyrano and the empty space to her right.

Christian, after escorting her to the physician’s tent and confessing the details of his and Cyrano’s ruse, had not been beside her for even a passing moment. He had been gone, off to find the wounded and identify the dead, when Roxane and Cyrano had reentered the world following the revelation of their feelings for each other. He and Cyrano had exchanged words out of her hearing, and parted amicably, but Cyrano has not seen fit to relay the details of his sentiments yet. Roxanne knows he is safe — she had seen him moving about the camp, stumbling between a few other men nought an hour ago — but to be a man’s wife and not be beside him is strange and anomalous. Too strange. Too anomalous.

De Guiche’s slitted eyes fall on her. His look is careful, not triumphant; he is not a man who has just discovered a way to undo the woman who spurned him, nor does he look at her like she is the rack upon which he will torture Cyrano. Roxane, worryingly, does not know what to expect.

The Comte motions an idle hand to the space of their campfire. “Madame...I would have expected your husband not to leave your side...” He does not phrase it as a question, and his gaze flickers deliberately to de Bergerac. 

Cyrano, while not privy to the progression of De Guiche’s earlier piecing-together, does not miss the expectant and realizing tone of the Comte’s query. He bristles from his casual slouch with such violent quickness Roxane’s immediate, half-conscious instinct is to reach out and seize his hand where it rests on the log between them to prevent him from doing anything irreparably rash in her defense. She knows she all but gives the change between them away by doing so; for all that she was affectionate with him before, there is a weight to her motion, an honesty of the love she feels for him that she is sure sounds in the air like a bell. More damningly, Cyrano stills at her touch; the enormity of his regard, to stifle his ferociousness at her silent behest, is not lost on Roxane either. 

The Comte, ever one for self-preservation, recognizes Cyrano’s murderous intent for what it is. He pales and lifts his hands appeasingly despite his vastly superior tactical position;. “Peace, de Bergerac. I mean neither you nor Roxane any harm.” 

Cyrano sneers like he did at the Theatre de Bourgogne. It is an unpleasant baring of teeth. The detente is shattered, and Roxane fears that he will cut himself on the pieces. “You blithely ordered us to our deaths earlier this eve. Forgive me if I am disinclined to take you at your word.” 

Many a more battle-tried man has cowered in the face of Cyrano’s particularly fearsome growling; to Roxane’s surprise, De Guiche pulls his shoulders back and continues in a mild, unthreatening tone. he could ruin them both with a few words. Half a day ago, he would not have hesitated, but now he speaks reasonably. “As I said before we all nearly perished in this godforsaken mud, I shan’t leave a lady undefended.”

Cyrano bristles further; his scoff of derision is loud and rough. To Roxane, it is clear that he takes umbrage at the insinuation he would not be defense enough for her. The Comte intuits the same; pointedly, he looks to where Roxane still grips Cyrano’s hand. “It is her husband’s place to defend her, not yours, de Bergerac.” 

Cyrano flinches when he hadn’t under the slap of Valvert’s glove. De Guiche’s unsubtle rejoinder strikes true, and Roxane is too slow to anchor Cyrano’s hand in hers before he pales and withdraws it. 

De Guiche observes the interaction with interest, wisely tempered by caution. “Despite you both having duped me, I do still possess the power of sight; you have been exchanging glances I can only describe as love-struck since the end of the battle. Christian has avoided keeping company with either of you, his ostensible wife and his closest friend. What has transpired?”

Cyrano, unexpectedly cowed, is silent and still. Roxane, all at once, is inconsolably furious — she cannot stand seeing her love so off-kilter, cannot stand De Guiche’s presumptuous inquiry, cannot stand that Christian had not thought to maintain the ruse, and that she was such a fool. A breath; she fashions her anger into a mental blade like the one she’d carried during the siege and turns it on De Guiche. 

“You have never been deserving of my secrets, monsieur. You are too bold to ask for them so soon after attempting to ruin my happiness.”

De Guiche concedes with graceful shame. “You are not wrong, I am not too proud to say. As for why I ask...” he hesitates, shifting to include Cyrano in his address, “I am also not too proud to admit my life was in your hands today, de Bergerac, and I find it returned, and myself the debtor.” He gestures aimlessly, “I wish to help the both of you.” 

“You assume we need it.” The guttural notes of Cyrano’s ire have faded, but there is still an edge, and his eyes are a sharp, wary blue. Roxane nearly looks to the heavens at the impetuous nerve of him, so bold as to be brash. God, she loves him, and yet she wants to shake him by his ash-smudged collar. She feels De Guiche’s gaze fall solely on her, and she sighs her acknowledgement that his point has merit. 

“You might.” The Comte mutters softly. “You cannot fight all of Parisian high society, nor stop the insidious talk with the force of your wit. Worse still, you are not the vulnerable one.”

It is Roxane’s turn to take umbrage, and this time she does not intend to give it back. “Do not presume to tell me my own weaknesses, Comte. I am all too aware of my position as a prize to be won, irrevocably tarnished the moment I capitulate. You not so long ago cajoled, begged, nearly forced your infatuation upon me. The Cadets were sent to war because of your sour vindictiveness upon falling short in your pursuit.” She nearly snarls in her fury, but she sighs it away, “Loathe as I am to admit it, you are not nearly the worst carrion gossip who would feed on the corpse of my good reputation.” She waves an airy hand at De Guiche, whose gaze had fallen to his boots at her mention of his campaign to bed her — At the same moment, Cyrano’s gaze had glinted dangerously silver — and De Guiche’s conscience-stricken features rise level with Roxane’s once more. She prompts him, “Pray tell, how you might help, Comte.”

De Guiche hesitates. He seems to take her charge with utter seriousness. Roxane’s regard for his political mind rises, barely; De Guiche, at the very least, knows that if he makes any genuine attempt to tarnish her, Cyrano will kill him, son-in-law to the Cardinal or no. 

For all that he is formidable, Cyrano would be hard-pressed to reach De Guiche before Roxane cut him down herself. 

“I…” De Guiche clears his throat officiously. “How many know that you and Christian wed?”

Roxane laughs lowly, “The entire camp, seeing as I kissed him in front of all of them. Called him husband. Little did I know the man who’d inspired me to cross a war zone was Cyrano.” 

De Guiche winces at the bitter irony in her tone, but Roxane can see that he is intrigued. “Forgive me if I pry: I do not have the fully story. I may be better equipped to manipulate the situation in your favor if I could…know how you came to be…so utterly in love.” He says the last quietly. Roxane is surprised to register hollow longing in the words, a wistfulness she did not expect from such a shrewd man as De Guiche. For all his wooing of her, she’d never expected him to treasure tender emotions past their usefulness in manipulation. She feels a smidge of regret for misjudging yet another person in her life, at least in that small way. 

She looks to Cyrano; it is primarily his tale to tell. His eyes are shocking in their cerulean shade, and there is a vulnerability in them that, if abused, could tear him apart. For all that his body and soul is steeled, his heart, Roxane realizes, has always been fragile. She wishes she had known; she would have protected it better. Maybe then he wouldn’t be looking at her now with such trepidation, such too-shy hopefulness. His resolve solidifies. He tips his head to her, then to the ground. He huffs a fortifying breath, then begins. 

De Guiche listens attentively as Cyrano relays their tale. He begins at the theatre, with the burst of joy at being seen. He glosses over the despair caused by Roxane’s desires, but then moves into the part of the story she does not know herself. Cyrano’s artful words illustrate the grand scheme to woo her, the melding of two men into one, an author of divine prose and sublime turns of phrase with the face of a Grecian hero. De Guiche frowns at Cyrano like he is seeing a different man in the cloak of a de Bergerac, nonplussed at the self-consciousness, the crippling doubt that stayed his words from ever leaving the pages signed by another’s name. Roxane cannot stop tears from falling down her face. She wipes them away before Cyrano can see. 

She tells her part too. It takes less time, but its importance can’t be overlooked, as she describes Christian’s honesty and Cyrano’s admittance. Their ardent revelations to each other. Their lack of foresight, in terms of their reputations. She falters as her words run up to the present; Cyrano’s hilt-calloused hand enfolds both of hers where they rest in her lap. It soothes her to feel the strength in him. 

When she looks up, De Guiche’s eyes have fallen to their joined hands. He looks moved. The way he subtly swipes a knuckle under his eyes speaks to it. 

After a moment, he smiles. It is a surprisingly kind expression on such a saturnine countenance. “You are both…unspeakably lucky to have found each other.” His gaze darkens, “I will not jeopardize that. I swear on my…recently reclaimed honor…” He has the wherewithal to jest lightly at his own expense, and a line of tension across Cyrano’s shoulders relaxes by a fraction. 

“Nothing is yet dire. I have some…influence in certain circles that could smooth this over.”

De Guiche explains a potential plan. It involves quietly annulling the oaths Roxane and Christian made to each other, and explaining to the Cadets the truth, up until the point where they were married, and skipping to the reveal that Christian had asked Cyrano to continue writing the letters. Cyrano takes that upon himself; the Cadets respect the sanctity of the Guard House like few other places, and if he swears them to secrecy there, they will keep it on pain of a solid, inescapable pummeling. 

Roxane swears to speak to Christian; they still have words that need exchanging, if only to resolve any festering hurt and misunderstanding. 

Then De Guiche continues unexpectedly. “When you arrange the wedding…I should like…I would offer to cover any expenses you incur, for the ceremony.” He wrings his hands; Roxane has never seen him squirm before now. “I can also be your official witness, and speak to the sanctity of the vows in society.”

It is a gracious offer. Cyrano’s formidable nose wrinkles with suspicion for the first time in hours. He says what Roxane is thinking, “Such favors usually accrue a cost. What do you want from us?”

“Nothing, truly.” De Guiche sighs when Cyrano’s eyes narrow to chips of sapphire. “I swear it. I meant it, before, when I said I owed you my life, Cyrano. I also owe you an apology, Madame de Robin, for my uncouth behavior before.” He bows shallowly from his seat.

Roxane feels something close to relief wash cool through her chest for the first time in days. She allows herself a small smile. “You are forgiven, Comte, but I expect an extraordinarily extravagant wedding present.”

“Of course.” De Guiche, gratifyingly, is pale with relief too. She wonders at her luck — her near misfortune — of causing a Comte, a cadet, and a veritable hero to be afraid of her. She would like to get used to it. 

She thinks Cyrano’s awe enough as she looks to him again. Gently, as if seeing the force of her regard in her eyes, he takes her hand in both of his and kisses her knuckles. For all that Cyrano de Bergerac is a force of nature, he tempers her. 

De Guiche clears his throat. “I… think I will follow Le Bret’s example.” It is an unsubtle escape to leave them alone. Roxane cares very little. 

Despite how many details they must coordinate and futures they must discuss, neither she nor Cyrano speak. He shifts close enough for her to pillow her head on his shoulder, her arms folded through the crook of his, and they regard the fire and the brightening stars on their last night in Arras. 

Paris, and a life together, awaits them.

[penmansparadise]

Billy Hargrove Imagine - Something Special

* I DON’T OWN ANY GIFS POSTED* *CREDIT TO THE GIF OWNERS*

Okay, sooo it’s been a FAT minute since I’ve posted something.  Being a full-time college student is just absolute shit.  I know I have so many requests that I still haven’t written, but I needed to get my inspiration to write again back.  I am hoping that I will get to some of the requests while I have this short break before my next classes start up again.  However, I may end up writing another Billy imagine just so I can get my creative juices flowing, so stay tuned.  I really hope that you all enjoy this.  Please let me know your thoughts in the comments!!  

Warnings: Mild language 

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

                                               ____________________

I clenched and unclenched my hands as I stared at the Blue Camaro parked in the driveway. Why Ms. Williams paired me with Max Mayfield, of all the middle schoolers in this rundown town, I had no idea. The stupid “Big Sister” program was straight bullshit anyway, but there I was, sitting in my car perched in front of the Hargrove/Mayfield residence. I blew out a long breath before getting out of my seat and walking to their front door.

Standing on the other side of the wooden door, I could hear Ratt blasting through the house. I tried my best to ignore it as I knocked three times. It wasn’t long before the door flew open to reveal the one person I was hoping would not be present during the visit. Sweat beaded on his forehead, causing his golden hair to stick together. He was wearing a worn white tank top that clung to his toned chest. Without even meaning to, my eyes took in every inch of him.

Billy was what most people called “popular.” Ever since he arrived in Hawkins, he had everyone turning their heads. I mean, honestly, it was hard not to. He quickly fell in with the “in-crowd,” and gained the title of “King of Hawkins.” Billy was the guy every girl wanted, and the person every guy wanted to be. He was the complete opposite of me. I was the quiet, good girl who got paid to write other people’s English papers. I always listened in class and was always home by curfew. Although there were many parties thrown, I was never in attendance. I never once thought for a second Billy would know who I was. But, he did.

Billy raised his eyebrows, and a small smirk fell onto his lips.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here, Y/N.”

Heat rose to my cheeks as I came back to reality.

“Yeah, well, same.”

Billy let out a chuckle,

“I live here.”

I shut my eyes tightly, completely regretting opening my mouth. I shook my head and brought my eyes to meet his again.

“Right, um, sorry. I know.”

He was amused at my inability to articulate my scrambled thoughts, but he was patient.

“I’m here for Max. I got paired as her mentor through the Big Sister program. We had a meeting today to talk about…girl things.”

His eyebrows rose again.

“Well, Y/N, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Max isn’t here.”

My stomach turned as embarrassment enveloped me. The red hue returned to my cheeks, and my eyes widened. I stood motionless and mute in front of Billy as he watched me.

“Okay,” I finally said, “I guess I’ll just go then.”

I quickly turned to leave and got halfway to my car when Billy spoke again, stopping me in my tracks.

“You could always stay and wait for her. She should be back soon.”

Something fluttered in my chest at his invitation, but I didn’t move immediately. I could see my car sitting on the curbside. It was beckoning me to jump in and drive home. The meeting could always be rescheduled; there was absolutely no reason for me to stay. But, for some unknown reason, I turned to face him. He stood there, leaning up against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. A small smirk played on his lips as he waited patiently for me to make my decision. I let out a breath and gave a nod.

“Okay,” I said before walking into the house.

I took careful steps as I followed Billy toward the couch. The TV, tuned to MTV, blared “Take Me to the Top” by Mötley Crüe. I watched as he bopped around the room, picking up miscellaneous items in a weak attempt to tidy up. A light laugh escaped my lips at the sight of Billy, Mr. Big-and-Bad, dancing around his living room.

“This is a great song and all, but I prefer “Live Wire.” It really shows off Vince’s vocal range, you know?” I said, looking at the photos perfectly placed on the beige walls.

Billy stopped and turned to face me with confusion written all over his face.

“You listen to Mötley?”

My eyes connected with his as I sat up a little straighter.

“I do, actually. I would have killed to see them in concert when they were in Indianapolis. My mom wouldn’t let me go though. She was worried I’d get kidnapped or something.”

Billy’s mouth was nearly on the floor as I spoke. I narrowed my eyes at him and let out a huff.

“Why is it so surprising that I listen to Mötley Crüe?”

He moved himself to the loveseat across from me and plopped down.

“I just assumed that someone like you would listen to lighter music, you know? Like Madonna or something, I don’t know.”

My jaw dropped, and my hand flew to my chest in mock offense.

“Mr. Hargrove, there is quite a lot that you don’t know about me.”

He smirked and placed his arms across the back of the couch.

“So, I am learning.”

The two of us sat across from each other for hours talking about music. Billy was shocked when I told him that I saw Poison live, and even more floored when I told him I flashed Bret Michaels’ bodyguard to get backstage. He laughed when I told him I had a massive crush on David Lee Roth, and I laughed even harder when he said he did too. We were in the middle of debating which Def Leppard album was better when Max finally came through the door.

“You honestly think ‘High ‘n’ Dry’ is better than ‘Pyromania?’” Billy asked.

A smile was spread across my face as I answered with confidence.

“Absolutely! I mean, ‘Bringin’ on the Heartbreak’ is amazing! How could you think any different?”

Billy was about to speak when Max pulled both of our attention to the door.

“Y/N?”

I sprang to my feet, heart beating loud enough for their neighbors to hear.

“Max!” I damn near shouted.

I cleared my throat and took a calming breath.

“You’re back. I’m here for our meeting. You know, for the Big Sister/Mentor thing.”

Her eyes narrowed with skepticism as she looked from Billy to me.

“Right.” She said, drawing out each syllable. “Let’s go to my room then.”

She took my arm in her hand and began dragging me toward her room. I sent Billy an apologetic look before Max slammed her bedroom door shut.

The meeting was longer than I expected. Max unloaded everything on me, something I was not expecting. I tried my best to listen and nod when appropriate, but I could not concentrate. Billy’s perfectly structured face was burning in my mind. From his deep blue eyes, and the way they held my gaze to the way his nose crinkled when he laughed. When Max finally realized I was not fully present, she decided to let me go stating she was tired.

She didn’t walk me to the door, but I didn’t mind. I made my way through the quiet house and to the front door. My heart nearly stopped when Billy grabbed the doorknob before me.

“So, I’ll see you next week at the same time?” He asked with a playful grin. “We still have to decide which Def Lepp album is better.”

I let out a small chuckle at his comment. Against my better judgment, I nodded.

“Yeah, same time next week; I’ll be here.”

He smiled before opening the door and watching me leave. I got in my car, trying my best to hide the wide grin spread across my lips. I gave a little wave before driving off with the thought of seeing Billy again playing in my mind.

From that day forward, it was a routine of ours. I would arrive exactly two hours before my meeting with Max was scheduled to spend time with Billy. We would sit in his room, me on his bed, and him on the floor, and just talk. It started out as small talk. He asked what my favorite color was, and I asked what his favorite season was. As the months rolled on, the conversations got deeper. He moved from the floor to lying next to me on his bed. He told me about his mother and how he tries so hard to make his father proud. I told him about my parents and how suffocating they are by controlling my every move. He told me he doesn’t like to fight, but he doesn’t know how else to express his emotions. I told him that I didn’t want to go to college, but couldn’t bear the thought of telling my parents. Slowly, but surely, we grew closer and closer.

Although our little talks had been going on for months, I still got excited about seeing Billy. When I pulled up in front of his house that day, I saw him waiting on the porch. It was different, but I tried not to look too much into it. Trying to mask the happiness bubbling over inside of me, I sauntered over to him. A wide smile spread across his lips at the sight of me, making my heart jump.

“Hey,” I said more to my feet than Billy.

He chuckled lightly.

“Hey.”

We stood in silence for a moment before Billy finally spoke.

“Can I take you somewhere?”

My mouth opened and closed with no words coming out at first.

“Um,” I began, “Yeah, sure.”

Billy’s blue eyes brightened at my response. He didn’t say anything in return, instead, he took my hand in his, and led me to his car. The feeling of his fingers intertwined with mine sent shock waves through my entire body. He opened the passenger side door for me before rushing to get behind the wheel. His nervous, jittery movements made me giggle. He was not acting like his normally cool and collected self.

In the car, from my peripherals, I could see him stealing glances of me. My heart pulsed in my chest, and I moved my hand to my face to hide my smile. “Faithfully” by Journey came from the radio, and molded with the sound of rubber over asphalt in perfect harmony. The windows were down, blowing the smell of Billy’s cologne and dewy grass into my face. I let myself look in his direction for a moment. His golden hair, whooshing wildly around his face, shined under the late afternoon sun. One hand sat perched on the top of the steering wheel while the other hung lazily out the window. His slender fingers drummed along to the radio. His eyes were glued to the empty road ahead of us. I bit my bottom lip as I let myself drink him up.

Billy turned the car down a dirt road, and shortly after that, we were parked under a large oak tree. There was nothing surrounding us but greenery. Billy got out first, and as I was taking in the view, he opened my door. He took my hand before guiding me to the front of his car. Standing in front of me, he gently placed his hands on my waste. He was closer than he had ever been. I could feel the warmth coming off his tense body. His hands gripped my hips a little before he lifted me effortlessly onto the hood. A nearly inaudible gasp left my lips at the sudden movement. He removed his hands from my body and sat down next to me. His arm brushed against mine, giving me shivers. The feeling of his body close to mine made my stomach tighten.  

In a sad attempt to lessen the obvious tension between the two of us, I spoke.

“This place is beautiful, Billy. How did you find it?”

His eyes never strayed from the tree standing in front of us.

“I was driving one night to clear my mind when I came across the dirt road. It was probably kind of stupid now that I think about it, but I turned down it. I realized it was a dead-end, so I got out and sat for a while. From that day on, when I needed to just get away, I came here. It’s a good place to think.”

I took in the picturesque scenery in awe. With the sun setting, the tree coverage made me feel like I was in a fairytale. Billy cleared his throat, gaining my attention again.

“Can I, um, I need to tell you something, Y/N.”

He was fiddling with his hands, a nervous habit of his that I had picked up on. I gave an anxious nod to urge him to go on. His eyes were looking everywhere, but mine as he spoke.

“These past few months with you have been amazing.” He said.

My mouth fell slightly agape, not sure what to say in return. But, before I could reply, Billy continued in a rush.

“I’ve learned so much from you. Not just about who you are, but also about myself. I’ve learned that I don’t have to punch someone to get my point across, and it’s okay to walk away sometimes. You taught me that being a big brother isn’t as terrible as I made it out to be. Max is actually a pretty cool kid.

“I’ve learned that you love power ballads because they make you believe that people can really be in love. I also learned the hard way that you prefer the wall side of the bed.” He gave a light chuckle as he playfully rubbed the arm I hit months back when he tried to take my side of the bed. His eyes finally pulled away from the grassy roots ahead of us and met mine. He smiled and let out a sigh.

“You really are something special, Y/N.”

My cheeks flushed from the blunt compliment. Billy never ventured down the road of flattery with me before. Something had clearly changed between us. I gave a nervous laugh and waved him off.

“Oh, don’t give me that much credit.”

“No, really.” Billy began, “You’ve made me into a better person. I’m a better version of myself when I’m with you, Y/N.”

His steady gaze held mine as I hung on to every word that he spoke. I could feel the heat climbing up my neck again and quickly averted my eyes.

“Stop looking at me like that!” I said with another nervous chuckle, “You’re making me blush.”

I looked back up to find his eyes still set on me. My hands began to sweat as I held onto my knees for support.

“I, Billy…” I trailed off.

His eyes began to gloss over before he finally spoke again.

“Y/N, I think I’m in love with you, and that absolutely terrifies me.”

My breath caught in my throat at his words. They echoed in my ears and embraced my heavy beating heart.

“Why does it terrify you?”

He ran his hands over his face before running them through his perfect mane of hair.

“I don’t know. I just, I’ve never felt this way before, for anyone. I’ve never known what this could feel like. The only other person I felt genuine love for walked out of my life without looking back. I’m afraid of putting myself in that position again. I’m scared that if I let myself be vulnerable again, you’ll leave just like my mother did. I don’t want to feel that kind of pain ever again, Y/N. I can’t go through that again. I won’t make it.”

“Billy,” I said, placing my hand on top of his, “I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not tomorrow, and not six months from now.”

He moved his gaze to meet mine again. With my eyes glued to his, I gave his hand a squeeze.

“You’re not the only person who has learned new things these past few months, Billy. I used to be a hermit who only left the house to go to school. You taught me how to embrace the world around me. You showed me that there is more to life than just math and science assignments. I’ve learned that taking risks is scary, but dammit it’s so worth it. Billy, you taught me how to live, and you showed me that even I am capable of falling in love.”

My hands were shaking, and this time Billy gave my hand a squeeze encouraging me to go on. I shut my eyes and let out a breath.

“I’ve never felt these feelings before. The way my heart jumps at just the thought of you. Or how your smile makes it hard to breathe. Billy, I’ve never craved another human being before. This is all new to me.”

I opened my eyes and met his cerulean orbs, full of anticipation.

“You’re not the only one who’s terrified, Billy.”

We held each other’s gaze for a moment, acutely aware of the other’s every movement. My heart was racing, and my breathing quickened with each passing second. I felt his hand leave mine, and slowly land on my right cheek. My eyes shut as I leaned into his warm touch. Every one of my senses was on high alert. I could hear his short breaths as he inched closer toward me. I could feel his other hand land softly on my left cheek. I could smell his coconut shampoo as his little ringlets brushed against my face.

Our lips were only inches from one another, and my whole body ached for him to close the distance. His thumbs drew small circles on my cheeks before he finally connected his lips to mine. My hands gripped his toned arms as I melted into the kiss. He pulled me closer until I was practically in his lap. I let my hands wander up his arms until they found the back of his neck. My fingers tangled in his soft curls as our lips moved together in complete bliss.

When he reluctantly pulled away, I was breathless. He moved his hands to my waist and hoisted me onto his lap. Straddling him, I placed my forehead against his and smiled. He gently rubbed his nose against mine, making me chuckle.

“I love you so much, Y/N.”

Tingles washed over me at his words. With a cheesy grin plastered on my face, I leaned close to his ear, and whispered,

“I love you so much more, Billy.”

A low chuckle shook his body as he wrapped his arms around me. He trailed kisses up and down my neck before leaning back onto his hood and pulling me into another passionate kiss.

[the--blackdahlia]

The Poker Game

Title: The Poker Game

Summary:  Vince Neil, Axl Rose, Bret Michaels, Sebastian Bach, Jani Lane, and Jon Bon Jovi are sitting down for a poker game. Vince is a little low to make the bet, but he knows that his hand is the winner. He just knows it.

Warnings: Language mainly

AN: Tommy x Nikki, Slash x Axl. Just a random crack fic that I came up with because I was bored af.

Smoke filled the room as Axl puffed on his cigarette while Jon dealt out the cars. Vince poured himself and Jani another glass of whiskey, Bret was just sticking to water, and Sebastian was all about his vodka. The six frontmen had gotten together for a poker game, since they were all in the same area for a big festival and honestly, being away from the rest of their bands was a nice little break.

“So, your drummer and your bassist are screwing,” Axl laughed. “I figured it’d be you and the bassist.” He gave Vince a smirk.

“Oh, fuck you,” Vince rolled his eyes. “You’re just jealous that you can’t get in on that.”

“Why would I when I got Slash?” Axl shrugged. “You can keep your nasty band to yourself.”

“Are these two always like this?” Jon asked as he dealt out the cards.

“Yeah. Every poker game they argue like this,” Sebastian sighed.

“Just fuck already,” Bret and Jani said as one. Axl and Vince both glared at the blondes.

“Or not,” Jani raised his hands. “Fuck, you two have a mean glare.”

“Can we just play cards already?” Sebastian asked as he picked up his hand. There was a murmur among the group before they started playing and placing their bets. They played a couple hands, just some light jabbing and jokes, telling stupid stories about their bands and all that good shit.

“And then CC,” Bret looked at his cards. “I fold. Anyway, CC went running off naked down the street just because he didn’t want to eat the fucking peppers that Rikki was going to make him eat.”

“That’s some terror twins shit right there,” Jon laughed. “I don’t know how Vince and Mick put up with it. My band is so tame compared to Nikki and Tommy.”

“They’re hilarious man,” Sebastian laughed. “Those two come up with some of the stupidest shit and I love watching them try to do it while hiding from Doc.”

“Okay, I fold too,” Jani laid his cards down as Axl raised the bet. Vince looked in his wallet, and saw that he didn’t have enough to cover the bet, but he looked at his cards and saw he had a straight flush, 2 through 5, all hearts. He knew he was going to win.

“Let’s make this interesting,” Vince grabbed a card from his wallet for a bar that he went to and just never got rid of, and a pen from the table. He wrote on the back of the card and placed it in the middle. Axl picked it up.

“You’re fucking kidding,” Axl laughed. “Nikki’s gonna kill you.”

“Not if I win,” Vince smiled. The other four looked at the card, which was Vince’s bet. He had bet Tommy Lee.

“I’m out,” Jon laid his cards down.

“Me too,” Sebastian added. It was just Vince and Axl now.

“Okay, show me your cards,” Axl laughed. Vince smiled and laid down his straight flush.

“I think I’ll just be taking my goods…” Vince went to reach for the pile, but Axl stopped him.

“Wow, if you’re this premature in bed, no wonder you can’t keep anyone,” Axl laughed. “Gotta see my cards first, don’t you?” He laid his cards out then.

A royal flush.

“Oh my god,” Jani looked over at Vince, who was staring in horror at the offending cards.

“What the fuck did you just do?” Bret asked.

“Oh god, Nikki is going to kill you,” Sebastian added. “Jon, we might as well order the flowers now.”

“Flowers?” Jon asked, looking confused.

“For Vince’s funeral,” Sebastian laughed a little. Axl just smirked.

“I’ll be getting my new drummer soon,” Axl laughed. “I’m sure Steven wouldn’t mind a vacation.” Axl got up with his winnings. “Night guys. I’ll see you later.” He winked at Vince before leaving. Jani, Bret, Sebastian, and Jon all looked at Vince before excusing themselves too.

Vince dreaded telling Nikki and Tommy what he had done. He decided to head back to his room and sleep it off. He’d figure something out in the morning.

****

Nikki was awoke the next morning by knocking on his hotel door. Tommy groaned and moved closer to the bassist, keeping him in bed.

“Just pretend you don’t hear it and they’ll go away,” Tommy whispered, laying his head on Nikki’s chest. Nikki was about to go back to sleep when the knocking started again.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Nikki pulled on a pair of pants and shirt. Tommy groaned and did the same. He flopped back on the bed as Nikki opened the door. There stood Duff, looking slightly annoyed.

“Duff? What the fuck?” Nikki asked. Duff sighed.

“Nikki, all I can say is I’m really sorry about this,” Duff told him.

“What are you talking about?” Nikki asked. Duff sighed and motioned for Izzy and Slash, who held Nikki against the wall while Duff walked in. “What the fuck are you doing? Let me go!”

“Sorry man. We gotta do this or face the wrath of Axl,” Slash sighed. “Go ahead Duff.” Duff reached out and grabbed Tommy, throwing him over his shoulder. He was glad that Tommy was still half asleep, but he was still wiggling like crazy.

“See ya man,” Duff waved by, carrying Tommy out of the room, followed by Slash and Izzy.

****

Vince was asleep, until he heard yelling in the hallway. His eyes snapped open and he sat up to listen.

“Put me down Duff!” Tommy yelled. “Put me down!”

“Sorry, I can’t. Axl won you fair and square. And I’d rather not fight with him,” Duff’s voice flowed through the door.

“What do you mean Axl won him? What the fuck is going on?” Was Nikki’s voice next.

“Dude, Vince bet him in the poker game last night,” Slash explained. “Axl sent us to collect.”

“Oh no,” Vince whispered. He went to lock his door, but it was too late. Nikki threw it open and glared the frontman down. “Nikki, I can explain…”

“You bet Tommy?!” Nikki yelled.

“I thought I was going to win…” Vince told him, backing up until his legs hit his bed.

“So you bet Tommy!” Nikki was fuming. Mick came in then, staring at the two of them.

“What’s going on?” Mick asked. Nikki kept his eyes trained on Vince.

“Our singer decided to bet my boyfriend in his poker game!” Nikki explained. “And he lost!”

“You did what?” Mick asked.

“I had a straight flush!” Vince defended. “What is the likelihood that Axl fucking Rose would have a royal flush?”     

“Oh my god, you lost the drummer to Guns n’ Roses?” Mick groaned. “That’s just great.”

“How was I supposed to know he had a royal flush?” Vince asked. “That’s like, damn near impossible!”

“But he did. And now you have to get Tommy back,” Nikki growled. “Or I will personally end you.”

“You’re joking, right?” Vince asked. “He’s joking…” He looked over at Mick, who shook his head no. “How am I supposed to get him back?”

“Figure it out,” Nikki growled. “And fast.” With that, he stormed out, leaving Vince and Mick in Vince’s hotel room.

****

“You can’t just kidnap people!” Tommy yelled at he was carried to the area Guns n’ Roses was staying at.

“Vince placed the bet. I’m just claiming it.” Axl told him as he smiled at the drummer, who was placed in a chair. “I just plan on keeping you like a day or something. Just to make Vince stew.”

“Am I being replaced?” Steven asked, looking at Tommy.

“No Steven. Just wanted a little fun at Vince’s expense,” Axl patted his back. “Anyway, welcome to Guns n’ Roses, temporary drummer Tommy Lee.”

“Oh god, this is going to be in a book somewhere, isn’t it?” Tommy asked.

“That would be hilarious. Someone write this down so we don’t forget this when we’re doing drugs,” Izzy told them.

“On it,” Slash told him, already writing everything down. “Well find some random song to credit you or something just to piss off Vince even more.”

“God, I love that we’re all thinking the same thing,” Axl laughed. “Okay, who’s hungry?”

****

“How am I supposed to get Tommy back?” Vince asked Jon, Jani, Bret, and Sebastian. He had gotten the four frontmen together for coffee and needed their help to undo what he had done.

“Another poker game?” Jon suggested.

“Yeah because that worked out so great for him last time,” Sebastian added. 

“You guys are super helpful,” Vince groaned, laying his head on the table.

“Maybe kidnap him back?” Jani suggested. “Not like Axl has armed guards keeping him against his will or something.”

“Are we staging a robbery?” Bret asked. “Because I’m game if you guys are.”

“Okay, let’s go steal Tommy back before Nikki fucking kills me,” Vince sighed, downing the rest of his coffee. He stood up, giving Jon, Jani, Bret, and Sebastian a look that told them if they didn’t help him, he would let Nikki tear them apart too. They all stood up and followed him.

****

“Draw four Izzy,” Tommy laughed as he threw down a change of color card. “And I’m feeling very yellow right now.”

“Fuck you Lee,” Izzy grumbled. “That’s the third fucking draw card you’ve used on me. I’m switching spots with Steven.”

“Nah. Us drummers gotta stick together,” Tommy laughed, giving Steven a high five. Duff just shook his head and laid out a yellow card. “Where’s Slash and Axl?”

“You don’t wanna know,” Duff grumbled. “Bad enough we have to hear it.”

“Yeah, let’s just have fun playing Uno,” Steven added.

“At least you guys are having fun!” Izzy held up his large hand of cards. “This fucking blows!”

“Hey, you’re the one who suggested Uno,” Duff told him. “Not our fault you suck at it.”

“First off…” Izzy started, only to be cut off by the door opening up and five frontmen coming in.

“Vince? What are you doing?” Tommy asked, standing up.

“Uh, this is a rescue Leia. Let’s go,” Vince grabbed Tommy’s arm and pulled him.

“A rescue? I’m not in distress,” Tommy tried to pull free from Vince. He wanted to finish his card game. “Vince, let go!”

“Can’t. Your boyfriend is going to literally kill me if I don’t bring you back. So we have to go now.” Vince told him, the other frontmen stopping the rest of Guns n’ Roses from following them.

“I mean, you’re the one that used me as a bet…” Tommy pointed out.

“I had a straight flush!” Vince defended. He tugged Tommy back to where Motley Crue was staying. Nikki and Vince were watching TV when Vince appeared with Tommy. “There! I got him back!”

“I was having fun, we were playing Uno,” Tommy sighed. He looked at Nikki and smiled. “Hey Nik.”

“Next time you run out of money Vince, bet yourself,” Nikki growled, wrapping Tommy up in a hug.

“You know, Axl’s not gonna be happy his winnings just walked off, right?” Mick told them. “And we’re still here with them for two more days.”

“Neil!” Axl’s screech came from the hallway. Axl burst into the room with the rest of his band right behind him. “I was going to give him back like tomorrow before your set! You can’t just take him!”

“He’s our drummer, I’ll take him back,” Vince crossed his arms over his chest.

“You bet him in the first place!” Axl screamed.

“You shouldn’t have put the stakes so high!” Vince called back. Tommy, Nikki, Mick, Izzy, Steven, Duff, and Slash all looked at each other as the two frontmen yelled at each other. Nikki motioned for them to all leave, and Duff nodded. The two bands made their way out of the room, leaving Axl and Vince to yell at each other.

“Where’d they go?” Vince asked.

“Damn it! You lost them!”

“How did I lose them! This is your fault!”

“Oh fuck you Neil!”

“You wish!”

****

“Draw four Mick,” Izzy said, about to lay down the card, but one look at the other guitarist had him changing his mind. “On second thought, I think I’ll just play this seven on that seven…”

“Good choice,” Slash laughed.

“Why are we playing Uno again?” Duff asked.

“Because it’s fun,” Tommy told him. “Right Nik?”

“Right,” Nikki nodded, peeking over Steven’s shoulder at his cards.

“Maybe we should make Vince and Axl play this game instead,” Steven pulled his hand to his chest so Nikki couldn’t see. The bassist gave him a sheepish smile.

“They’d still find a way to screw it up,” Slash told them, laying down his card. Two left and…

“Uno!” Tommy called out, jumping up and smiling.

“I hate this game,” Izzy sighed.

“You’re just jealous you never win,” Mick laughed. “Come on drummer, win already so we can play Slapjack.”

The End

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[purplesurveys]

1053

1. What did you do in 2020 that you'd never done before? Other than the obvious getting-a-job and other adulting stuff, 2020 was the year of my first cigarette, the first time I had to use eye drops, the first time I got sick for longer than a day, and the first time I tried my hand in embroidery.

2. Did you keep your new year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year? I don’t make any because I usually get tired of maintaining them after a few weeks. But idk, last night I had an idea that I want to try a new restaurant by myself every weekend in 2021. It’s very self-care-y which is what I need these days, and it’s definitely feasible now that I have my own money. Given my track record with resolutions I’m not expecting too much, but I still hope I’m able to hold out for as long as I can.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth? I know a co-worker became a mom this year, but I don’t consider myself close to her. We’re cool with each other, but that’s about it. Her baby is the cutest though.

4. Did anyone close to you die? One of my great-aunts passed away in April.

5. What countries did you visit? I stayed put here. It wasn’t like I could get on an airplane this year anyway. The Thailand and Vietnam trips are going to have to wait.

6. What would you like to have in 2021 that you lacked in 2020? Me back.

7. What date from 2020 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? March 10 (the start of the lockdown); August 2 (my university graduation); September 15 (the breakup and Angela’s birthday); November 9 (my first day as an employee).

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? Being able to be strong enough to stay.

9. What was your biggest failure? Self-harm, or blaming myself.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury? Yeah I got a UTI early in the year, which gave me a week-long fever. I’ve also gotten hundreds of scratches and play bite marks from Cooper since we got him in June.

11. What was the best thing you bought? My embroidery kits! I bought them on a whim and seriously doubting if I’ll ever enjoy it given my previous hatred for anything sewing/knitting; but I’ve already done two templates and I just ordered two more to do during the holiday break. I haven’t gotten much for myself yet because my first paychecks coincide with Christmas lol, but once the gift-giving is out of the way I want to get myself games on the Nintendo Switch, Airpods, and candles.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration? Andrew has been incredibly supportive and patient, and has stuck by me through the whole year whether I was on top of the world, stressing out over our thesis, or in my inconsolable black hole of sadness. No clue where I’d be without them.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? Gabie, at least by August. I don’t know anyone who consistently let me down in the last 12 months.

14. Where did most of your money go? Christmas gifts for others; for myself, Starbucks coffee and pastries.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? Graduating college and sharing my graduation photo with everyone. I remember also having been super excited to work on my birthday gift for Gab, which was to make a short video for her using iMovie (which I had never touched before until then). I was the best fucking girlfriend. Also, getting Cooper!!

16. What song will always remind you of 2020? Not sure. Music wasn’t a big part of my life this year. Maybe Why We Ever by Hayley Williams? I put it on repeat too many times in 2020.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:

i. Happier or sadder? A lot sadder.

ii. Thinner or fatter? Said sadness made me lose my appetite and a whole bunch of weight by the latter part of the year. All of my shorts and jeans have gotten loose around my waist, so I’ve definitely felt the weight loss.

iii. Richer or poorer? I’m richer now, but only because I didn’t have a job before and I do now. My family’s finances have taken a blow due to the pandemic, though. I try to help by chipping in for the electricity bill, and buying my family nice food every now and then. 

18. What do you wish you'd done more of? Love myself, appreciate myself, thank myself. All the self-love crap I didn’t think I deserve.

19. What do you wish you'd done less of? Tolerating bullshit I knew I didn’t deserve but kept going with anyway.

20. How will you be spending Christmas? We’ll be with my mom’s side on the 24th; having family come over to our place on the 25th; and will be going to my dad’s side on the 26th. Gonna be the most hectic three days ever and I’m PUMPED tbh lol. It’ll be the busiest we’ve been all year.

21. What was the most embarrassing thing that happened to you in 2020? Meh, I just hated the times I made mistakes at work as I hate fucking up in general and looking bad in front of colleagues.

22. Did you fall in love in 2020? I stayed in it.

23. How many one-night stands? No thanks.

24. What was your favorite TV program? The Crown was, until it got associated with painful memories and I had to put my viewing indefinitely on hold. My favorite show this year would be either Descendants of the Sun or Start Up; both are amazingly good.

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year? I don’t think so. I don’t throw that word around a lot anyway.

26. What was the best book you read? Bret Hart’s memoir was a fun read.

27. What was your greatest musical discovery? Beach House and Chase Atlantic. ALSO, Twice lolololol

28. What did you want and get? My first job.

29. What did you want and not get? Commitment from the one person I asked it from.

30. What was your favorite film of this year? I didn’t watch a lot of movies this year. I actually think I just saw one?? which is really unlike me; but it wasn’t a big year for film anyway. I have yet to see Ammonite, which I already think I’ll love.

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? I turned 22 and I just stayed at home with family while my best friend and her boyfriend sent over sushi for me.

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? If I got to keep my relationship, which I thought had been faring well until she abruptly pulled the plug on everything.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2020? Casual and didn’t really evolve too much considering I didn’t go out a lot.

34. What kept you sane? Good Mythical Morning. I owe my life to them. And embroidery.

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? I didn’t develop a crush on him until this month lmaaaaaaao but Kim Seon Ho is so so so so so dreamy.

36. What political issue stirred you the most? The shutdown of ABS-CBN early in the year and the US elections.

37. Who did you miss? My friends in my org.

38. Who was the best new person you met? The people at my workplace that I ended up having a great rapport with.

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2020: From a tweet I retweeted: “You keep bad people around you and make excuses for their behavior because if you decided to hold even one person accountable, you’d have to recognize the offenses you’ve ignored and accepted. You’ll realize how much you’ve invalidated your own pain to ensure the comfort of others.” It was a harsh slap in the face, but I needed to hear it.

[courtneysdollparts]

Room No. 164

Warnings: Swearing

Set three years after "A Concept".

The harsh flow of hard whiskey poured down my throat before finally slamming the bottle down on the table. I fucking hated him.

"Where is she?" I asked, trying to plaster on the most bored look I could while Bret just smirked. Fucking asshole is always so cocky and proud everytime he's got her next to him, knowing how much it pisses me off. "You tell me" he swung the door open further revealing her dead asleep, tossled bed sheets covering her naked form but leaving her back exposed.

Not even burying myself in meaningless pussy is going to soften that blow. I just can't get that image out of my head - all the scenarios of what they were doing minutes before I knocked on their door burns through my brain. I knew they were having sex but shit, seeing her layed out like that - for him.

After drowning myself in as much hard liquor I could find and contemplating a shot of herion, the phone brought me out of my numbless state. Slaming the bottle of JD down on the table, I stumbled over to the phone. "Hey, I uhh - Bret mentioned that you stopped by to talk to me?" fuck. "Yeah, I just....don't worry about it" telling her would only make things worse, its obvious shes not interested.

An awkward silence followed, a glass of whiskey dangling from my fingers as I sat forward in my seat, tension settling into my shoulders as my nerves kicked in - itching to light a cigerette. "I Miss you" It was faint, quiet and caught me off guard but I heard her. "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't be telling you this but I need to". "Babe what the fuck are we doing then? This whole thing is just bullshit" despite the relief washing over me - knowing that we could work this out, fustration seeped in. "Just come back home with me and the guys tomorrow" "I can't, I want to but I just can't. I might be p- everythings just really complicated right now.....I'm sorry".

Not 100 perccent happy with this piece but I hopw you guys enjoy. Feedback is always welcome :)

- courtneysdollparts

[bald-tales]

Witness Protection at the Bears Den - part 10 to 15

part 10  It was still pretty quiet in the Bar next door to the Barbers shop. It had just gone past 8.00pm and Bart was washing up some glasses when a huge guy walked in, taking up the whole door frame. Bart had never seen him before, but he could certainly fit in at this bar.  He obviously had been spending way too much time in the gym. Although he was wearing a dark suit, it was obvious that muscle, not fat, was beneath it. He had a dangerous look, and something told Bart he wasn’t after a drink.  “What can I get you?” asked Bart, putting his glass drying aside.  “Just some information,” the stranger said. He produced a photograph, “you seen this guy around here?”  Bart felt his adrenaline start to rise. The photo looked like the kid next-door. Yes it was him alright. “Can’t say I have,” replied Bart – trying to hide his nervousness. “He doesn’t look the sort to come in here,” Bart tried to suggest.  “Friend of mine said he may come in here. I’d be grateful if you’d give me a call if you do see him.” The beefcake handed over a business card – Roberto Alverez it read. “His parents are worried sick about him; concerned he may have fallen in with the wrong crowd.” He tried to smile.  “Yeah! Ah sure, if I see him, I’ll give you a call,” Bart lied.  “You do that.”  And with that Alverez left the bar. Bart took a deep breath, then picked up the phone….he had to warn Ken – and fast!  “Shit! That was Bart. Reckons his had a visitor looking for Bret. How did they find out where to look so quickly?” said Ken as he hung up the phone.  “Well it’s pretty obvious there is a leak at my end,” replied a shocked Dan. He went to the window and carefully peered between the closed blinds. He couldn’t see anything. “What did he look like?”  “Bart said he was a big muscle-bound goon, as bald as we are. Gave him a name – Roberto Alverez.” Replied Ken.  At that moment, the bound and gagged Bret started to moan. He had a look of horror on his face.  “I think Bret knows this guy,” said Ken. “Maybe we should hear what his got to say.”  Ken took the huge ball gag from Bret’s gaping mouth. As soon as it was loose, Bret started to babble; ‘you can’t let him find me!’  “Ah! There he is!” said Dan, still watching out the window. “Just came out of the Laundry on the corner. Mean-looking mother…. Getting into a dark coloured Ford. Guess his leaving- for the moment anyway.”  “So Bret, you see why this work on you has to be done. They will find you eventually – we have to make sure they don’t know it’s you when that happens.” Ken said calmly.  “Alright! Your right. I know what these guys are capable of…..are you sure if I let you do this to me, I’ll be safe – for good?” asked Bret, obviously shaken, knowing he had no other options now.  “Trust me. Already your on the way to looking like someone who fits in at the Bears Den.” Ken said, pointing at the mirror that Bret was facing.  Bret’s mouth dropped; he hadn’t noticed the changes in his body. It must be what ever their pumping into him. He had noticed the restraints had been tightening, but now he saw why. His stomach was no longer flat… in fact, all his life he never been able to put on any weight – now he was blowing up big time. He had a round gut forming under his chest restraint, and he felt like his shirt was shrinking. As he went up he noticed his neck had thickened, and through the beard that had steadily been growing on his face, he could see his face had taken on a bloated look. “What the fuck?”Said Bret. “That’s not me – no way this can happen so quick. And the beard! I’ve never been able to grow anything more than a few chin whiskers…..this is weird!”  The added chemicals designed to make Bret more co-operative, were working, Ken thought to himself. They weren’t as powerful mind controllers as Ken had used on Lucas or Jerry – he wanted Bret to see his transformation to completion; it might be more fun!  Ken spoke first, “Now see what’s possible? This is the best way to throw those guy’s off the scent. Besides, at least you’re starting to look more of a man than a kid.”  Something inside Bret agreed with Ken. He’d always hated looking so young for his age.  “And this way, you can have Ken change anything you want. Plastic surgery is pretty permanent and definitely not as effective.” Added Dan. “Now listen Ken. I think it’s safe to leave you and Bret for now; I’d better try and find whose the spy, before we have any more trouble. I’ll be back a little latter – hopefully with some answers!”  “Sure Dan! Bret’s fine now, aren’t you boy?” Ken replied. “I think we can get rid of the restraints – his going to be enjoying this from now on I think.  Part 11  Dan was back at his desk - it was just coming up to 10pm and the offices in his building were quiet. Dan was going through the personnel records, something his new promotion permitted. There had to be a leak this end, he thought. There was no other answer. Hang on….. he suddenly got excited; of course, it had to be him! There on the screen was the obvious answer; Patrick Giovedi. A young, skinny guy that Dan had never got on with. He was working in their Accounts Department and would have had access to most of the files. Looking up his work history, there was no clue to his involvement. Only just turned 21, he’d been given a complete FBI clearance, though he’d only been working here for only 12months. What convinced Dan was his family history. Grew up in a tough neighbourhood – the son of an Irish mother and Italian father – put himself through school, attended North Hills College before attending NY University. ‘North Hills’ was the same college Bret had been peddling his drugs! Co-incidence? Dan didn’t trust co-incidences too much. What nailed his suspicion was a file photo of a young Patrick riding his bike in his old Bronx neighborhood. There he was outside a mens tailor shop; Tony Alverez Tailor. The bald-headed goon looking for Bret at the Bear’s Den was called Alverez. Must be a relative – maybe a father that owned the Tailor shop. Patrick must have known the Alverez’s, Dan thought to himself; it’s the only answer to why this guy had found Bret so quickly. Dan dialed the number of Kens’ Barbershop.  “Hey Ken! Look I won’t be able to make it back tonight – I’ve got a lead! Can you put Bret up for the night – I’ll be around tomorrow………..Yeah! You’ll be safe tonight….sure….have fun!” Dan hung up the receiver. Ken had been more than happy to accommodate Bret for the night. Already, he was well and truly looking like he was a regular at the Bear’s Den!  Ken had just finished washing out the hair dye when Dan had rung. Bret’s newly acquired beard was jet black, certainly a change from his former blond coloring. Ken started to dab at the beard with a brush he’d dipped in another mysterious bottle. Bret’s beard was a full beard that Ken had left thick at the chin and above his top lip. The sides he’d trimmed down short. He continued to run the brush through the chin whiskers and moustache, leaving the sides and cheeks alone. Bret could now see the black of the beard being bleached wherever the gel was brushed on. Ken decided to run the brush through more vigorously now. As the gel dried his beard was beginning to look more white than black. Again Bret’s beard was washed and dried. Ken now began to brush something else through the part bleached areas. It was a very thick, dark gel. “Just something to make you look a little older,” said a grinning Ken. After twenty minutes, the gel was washed out. Bret saw what Ken had meant about looking older! His tache and styled chin whiskers had a lot of gray showing through.  As the hours had ticked by Bret’s transformation into a biker Dad was becoming more and more obvious. Bret had even started to get off on the changes that were happening to him – thanks to the drugs still being pumped into his body. He was no longer the skinny college nerd that had entered the barbershop, earlier that night. His body was much fatter. His neck had grown wider, a generous double chin, had appeared, hidden by the grey beard. His whole face had taken on a bloated look. His eyebrows were dark and thick now, his eye coloring no longer blue, but brown, thanks to coloured contacts. Bret’s stomach was now a round beer belly stretching down to his lap. His chest was bigger with his pecs forming definite manboobs. His whole body was now covered in black hair mixed with silver-gray here and there. A real contrast to the smooth look he’d come in with. Piercings now adorned his nipples. Four large hoops swung from the left ear making the lobe stretch down under their weight. Bret hadn’t been too willing for the metal, but the drugs helped convince him.  “Now it’s getting late, I think that will be enough tonight,” said Ken. Bret was beat after all the work done on him and all the drugs pumped into him over the past five hours. He was sure ready for some shuteye. “First let me show you where you’ll be sleeping.”  After Ken had put Bret to bed in the spare room above the shop, he waited for him to go off to sleep. He knew he’d not wake up thanks to a little tonic in his hot cocoa. Ken began to apply an oil over Bret’s face. In a few minutes it would dry and shrink. Then Ken would apply another layer. This was his radical plan to help age Bret, beyond his 28 years. The oil would cause premature aging. Ken made sure the layers would be more on his forehead and around his crows feet. Next he applied a small weight to each nipple ring. Then he applied a vacuum cylinder to Bret’s rather average sized cock. He took a needle and injected it into one of Bret’s balls. As he pushed down on the plunger the testicle began to inflate. He repeated this with the other ball. They would be stretched latter after they had grown, like his cock would. Ken plunged another needle into the base of the dick. He connected the vacuum to a small machine that would then operate the vacuum all night. “Sweet Dreams Brett,” said Ken, giving him a kiss on the lips before retiring himself  Part 12  Hey Ken! Anyone home?” Dan called as he let himself into the back of the shop with his own key. It was nearing 3 in the afternoon.  “And just where have you been?” replied Ken as he came down the stairs from the apartment above.  give him a sedative about an hour ago. He didn’t wake up feeling too good. ”Can I take a  look?” asked Dan.  “Sure thing.”  Dan wasted no time going up to the bedroom where Bret was in. About 5 minutes latter Dan was coming down the stairs supporting a groggy Bret.  “Sorry I’m so late. I’ve made progress on our mole. One Patrick Giovedi, works in our Accounts department – bloody weasel!” sneered Dan.  “Coffee?” Ken asked as he went to a sideboard to pour himself a cup.  “Sure! Would kill for one.”  “I hope not,” smiled Ken as he poured a cup for Dan.  “So how’s our patient?” asked Dan.  “Had to amazing Barber, Ken,” smiled Dan as Ken came to give him a hand. “He wanted to get up – seems pretty out of it still.”  “Let’s put him back in the chair,” replied Ken, “I need to work quickly on him with this company snitch on our tale.”  “What more can you do? This is amazing – I mean the whole package is unrecognizable as Bret.” Said Dan carefully placing Bret in the chair.  “Not enough! Got to do the attitude and personality adjustments for him to be totally believable. Without it he will expose who he really is for sure.” Said Ken as he worked some switches at the back of the chair and the large TV screen came to life. “Bret was pretty freaked out this morning when he woke up – I mean who wouldn’t be? He started saying we were turning him into some freak, that we had no right”  EARLIER  Yes indeed. When Bret awoke that morning he felt terrible. He slowly came to only to find this sucking cylinder on his dick. He quickly removed it and couldn’t believe his eyes. His modest dick was huge – well over 12 inches, and his balls were like melons. His mind was trying to figure what had happened last night. It wasn’t a dream after all.  Just then Ken had entered the room. “Ah! Your awake sunshine.”  “What the hell! What have you done to me?” Bret spat at Ken  “I thought you would like all the enhancements,” replied Ken. “Here take a look!”  he then said producing a large mirror.  “Ahhhhh………..no…it can’t be! You made me into an old fuck like you.” Bret screamed. His face appeared to be years older and with the gray-black beard made him unrecognizable as a 28 year old. His sagging breasts had huge weights attached to the nipple rings – no wonder they felt numb.  “I’m getting out of here, I don’t care what the mob does to me; it can’t be worse than what you fuckers have done.”  “Just relax Bret. I know it’s all a bit much to take in at first – but you’ll get use to it. Remember – it’s for your own protection!” Ken replied suddenly producing a chloroformed rag.  Bret tried to free himself but Ken was still fitter and stronger. It wasn’t long before Bret passed out.  Back in the Barbershop Ken was busy making Bret more co-opperative.  “I don’t want to be like you guys,” Bret said groggily as he focused on the swirling patterns in front of him.  “Sure you do, Bret. Relax and focus on the screen in front. You’re feeling so good now. You love the new you….  “No way…I don’t want ….I can’t stay like this….I have to get awayyy….”  “No Bret. You only hear the sound of my voice. Concentrate on the patterns. They are relaxing you aren’t they Bret!” Ken softly and evenly spoke into Bret’s ear.  “Yes, they are relaxing… but I have to get away from here….I…I…”  “No Bret. Listen to my voice,” Ken continued, “you like my Barbershop, you like the changes we are making to you. You are looking more of a man than before – more mature, rugged.”  “I like being in your Barbershop….” repeated Bret.  Ken continued to work on Bret. He’d decided it was best if he forgot about his former life – safer as well.  Dan kept watch, keeping an eye on the street out front of the shop. He was extra careful not to be followed this time.  After about an hour and three injections, Ken said he was finished for now. “He’ll still need follow up work, but when he awakes he’ll be a different guy altogether. He will be an old, mature biker bear, ready to show us his nice big cock.”  Dan look at Bret’s naked body. His cock was certainly big, but the width now was like a beer can. “Maybe that size head deserves a nice big ring.”  “Just what I was thinking,” replied Ken. With that he got his piercing cart and went to work giving Bret a nice gold PA through his huge piss hole and ensuring it was permanently closed.  “Now for some finishing touches,” smiled left Ken to his fun working on Bret.  Ken as he went to the counter and took a bottle of one of his potions. “I want this dude looking so different from his former self even his own mother wont recognize him.” He proceeded to paint the sides and back of Bret’s bald head with the green goop. “This will quicken the hairgrowth, so his male pattern baldness will be obvious. It will make him look even older.”  The stubble had just started to appear on Bret’s head except on the top and crown where Ken had permanently removed it.  “Listen Ken, I have an idea to set up Giovedi.” Dan said, coming over to watch the process and fascinated at how thorough Ken was. “Give me a few hours and I’ll be back.  Have that television ready, I think Giovedi needs an attitude adjustment!”  “Sounds good to me,” laughed Ken.  Dan  Part 13  Ken heard a tap at the rear door to the shop. He’d been cleaning up after his time spent on Bret. “Dan! Your back! Who’s your friend?” asked Ken as he ushered Dan and a young, skinny guy into the shop.  “Ken, this is Patrick. Patrick Giovedi.”Dan answered introducing his firm’s accountant.  The guy looked very nervous, especially now that Dan had locked the rear door.  “Patrick, nice to meet you,” Ken said, “so what can I do for you?”  “I don’t know why I’m here actually – I mean I was practically dragged down here.” Patrick answered giving Dan a distrustful look.  “I told him it would be in his best interest to come down here to meet you.” Dan responded.  “Yeah! Sure – forced more like it.” Said Patrick.  Then Dan put a hand on the accountants shoulder and pushed him towards one of the Barber chairs. Patrick realized there was some guy in the nearest chair, he seemed to be asleep. “Take a seat and we’ll explain why you’re here.” Dan said, practically pushing him into the chair. He then whispered something to Ken, who then went to the control panels at the back of the first chair that Bret was sitting on, still unconscious.  “Now Patrick. I’ve noticed how your always looking at me – I think you’ve got a thing for a real man and I’m the kind of guy you’ve been looking for.” Began Dan.  Patrick’s eyes went wide, he could hardly believe his ears, “What the hell. Are you insane? I’m no faggot and if I were, I definitely wouldn’t be interested in a old, fat fart like you. Where in the world do you get off calling me………..wha…” Before Patrick could finish the chair was spun around. “What the fuck? Cried Patrick as he felt a leather strap go around his chest.  “Shut it,” Dan said “or I’ll shove my cock up that virgin arse of yours.”  Stunned, Patrick stayed quiet long enough for another restraint to go around his ankles.  Suddenly a TV screen in front of him came to life. It seemed to be a series of patterns and flashing shapes. Patrick tried to turn away but Dan had his head in a vice-like grip.  “Yes Patrick, I think your going to enjoy Ken’s entertainment.” Dan whispered into the ear of Patrick. Gradually his attempts to stop looking at the screen lessened till finally he was at Ken’s mercy.  “Now Ken, the full treatment. Can you make Pat a full-blown queen.?” asked Dan  “Your wish is my command, but what’s your plan?”  Dan went on,” I want our snitch here to be totally discredited but those his working for. Once they see what he is into, I don’t think they’ll be dealing with him in future. Now I want him particularly into straight cock.”  “Sounds interesting – I’ll give it my best shot.” Replied Ken.  He began to go through some DVDs as Dan went over to Bret’s chair. “Shit Ken! What have you done to our other guest?”  “Not bad if I do say so myself.” Answered Ken.  “Bloody amazing, I’d say,” Dan said. He was looking at the hair growth around the sides and back, a perfect male pattern baldness specimen. The hair was very noticeable now, grown out to a number one length and coloured dark grey with some silver showing through to match his beard. The top of his bald head seemed darker tanned with signs of ageing and sun damage. His face appeared to be even older then when Dan had left, the result of Ken’s desire to make this guy totally unrecognizable.  As Ken inserted a DVD into a compartment on the side of the television he asked, “So how old do you think he looks?”  “At least 60!” answered a still stunned Dan. “No one will ever believe this is Bret Williamson.”  Meanwhile, Ken turned his focus to Patrick. He was now completely hypnotized – the screen in front now showing occasional pictures of naked, athletic jocks.  Ken set up two syringes and injected the first into Patrick’s left arm. He then went on to say, “Now Patrick – can you hear my voice?”  “Yes.”  “Good. And you’re starting to feel very relaxed?”  “Yes.”  “You’re going to feel even better soon. As you watch the screen you feel more at ease and comfortable with what you see. Your beginning to enjoy the photos of the men, it’s starting to make your cock rise.”  Dan noticed the kid’s bulge developing in his crotch. He watched fascinated as Ken worked on the new ‘client’. There were no plans to alter his memories just his sexual preferences. They would have some fun with this one – he deserved it.  LATER.  “Bart have you met Patrick?” Ken announced loudly as he and Dan brought Patrick into the Bar. It was just after 6 pm and the Bar contained a few regulars. They had finished there work on the kid, and on Bret who was sitting in a dark corner still a little zonked out. Jerrt was sitting with him both drinking some heavy gainer beer.  “Well, Pat we don’t get many like you in here?” chipped in Bart offering his hand.  Patrick refused to shake it, even though he couldn’t take his eyes off Bart’s body. As usual the bartender was wearing no shirt and just a tight pair of black, leather pants.  “The names Patrick, and I’ve never been to a place like this before.” Patrick replied, but feeling his cock hardening.  “How about a drink – help you relax?” asked Bart.  “Well…I suppose I could have one before I go.” Stammered Patrick.  Suddenly he was conscious of pipe smoke, all around him. Ken had lit up one of his special blends. “Hope my pipe isn’t bothering you son?”  “Yes. Actually it is bothering me….it kind of smells…..you can’t…..” Patrick tried to speak but the smoke encircling him was making it hard. He started to feel at ease, why was that. He took a long gulp of the beer.  “Take another,” Bart pushed the drink into Patrick’s hands. He felt he should. He started to feel he should do anything this guy asked.  “So Pat! Still want me to stop smoking my pipe?” asked Ken putting a firm hand on Patrick’s shoulder.  “No. No, it’s fine. I’m getting use to it.” Replied a much more amiable Patrick. It wasn’t long before Patrick was on his second drink. Ken suggested Bart have a break, giving him a wink. Bart went around to Patrick, grabbed his arm and said, “why don’t we get to know each other a little better!”  Feeling a little light-headed and confused, Patrick went with Bart.  “Quick Ken! Go get your camera; let’s get a snap of the happy couple,” said Dan.  Within a half hour, Patrick was all over Bart, totally oblivious of having pictures taken. He had his shirt off and before long, was sucking on Bart’s huge cock – PA and all.  The next day, Patrick was back at work totally unaware that he had been straight up until yesterday. He couldn’t remember much about last night but he definitely wanted to return for some more action with Bart. The phone suddenly disturbed his daydreams. It was his cell phone. “Hello!  “It’s Alverez. We haven’t heard from you for a while. Not trying to get out of our little arrangement are you?”  “No…of course not. I’ve had no new information.” answered a frightened Patrick.  “Well keep an eye on that ‘faggot’ boss of yours. He won’t suspect you, and I’m sure his still in contact with Williamson.”  “Sure…but I’ve got to be careful…” then Patrick stopped as he realized Alverez had hung up.  It was just nearing 5pm when Dan came up to Patrick’s desk. “How about coming with me for a drink? You made such a good impression at the Bears Den yesterday- thought you might like to come along again. I have to check up on one of our recent client relocation in the same area, so your welcome to come along.”  “Ah! Sure, thanks…..I was finished up here anyway.” Responded a shocked Patrick. What great luck. Now he might find out where they have Bret stashed and finally get Alverez off his back.  As Dan and Patrick drove to the other side of town, Dan noticed a dark sedan following. He knew Alverez was probably watching him. Perfect, he thought to himself.  As they entered the Bears Den, Bart immediately came over and gave Patrick a kiss. “Great to see you again Pat. Here – have one of my ‘special ’frosties. Dan left the bar to see Ken, leaving Patrick in Bart’s capable hands.  Watching out the Barbershop window, Dan saw Alverez head straight into the bar. “Right on cue,” said Dan.  Ken was already heading to the bar via the rear door.  Roberto Alverez had no time for ‘ fags ‘ and here he was in this sordid bar a second time. He quickly scanned the room, which seemed to be busy already. As he passed a notice board he did a double take. There in the middle were the photographs that Ken had taken of Bart and Patrick. Alverez felt sick. He always thought Giovedi was a homo. No wonder he was coming to this bar. “Can I buy you a drink, son?”  “What?” Alverez found himself looking at the huge gut of the very man he was looking for, Bret Williamson. “No, just looking for a friend…” he quickly replied, feeling totally repulsed by the old farts appearance.  When he spied Patrick at the bar seemingly enjoying himself with the other guy in the photo, Alverez quickly left. As he climbed into his car he dialed a number on his cell. “No leads I’m afraid. Giovedi is a liability. Yes! I understand, I’ll take care of it.”  Alverez hung up and started the car.  Chapter14  A FEW DAYS LATER.  Patrick was scared. He had tried to contact Alverez, unsuccessfully each time. Something had changed. He knew he was a liability as he knew of Alverez’s involvement with the mob. In fact, their families had grown up together in a tough city neighbourhood. That’s how Alverez had first approached him about becoming an informant….even though he knew it was dangerous – the promise of easy money – well now Patrick wished he’d never gotten involved. He knew his life could be in danger. That’s when he decided to confide in his new ‘boyfriend’ Bart. Bart had insisted he tell Dan everything, but Patrick knew he’d be in big trouble with the authorities.  Of course Bart had been briefed on the whole story so he knew which way Dan wanted to proceed with this poor excuse for a man. “Jerry! Mind the store – I’m going next door.”  Said Bart as he took Patrick’s arm. “Ken will know how to help, his an expert at creating disguises!” continued Bart. Patrick decided this guy knew best – he trusted him, but what did he mean by disguises?  “Listen to Ken, Patrick, it’s your best hope”. Said Bart as he sat on one of the waiting areas chairs. They had been in the Barbershop for a good half hour, explaining everything to Ken. Patrick was sitting in one of the Barber chairs, Ken resting against the counter.  Ken had been trying to convince Patrick he needed a radical makeover to escape the mob.  Suddenly there was the sound of the lock turning in the rear door. It was Dan, whom Ken had previously contacted.  “So Patrick – you’ve come clean finally.” Dan said, approaching the chair.  “Look, it’s not my fault. I was forced in………..AHHHHHH!” Patrick didn’t finish, Dan slapped him hard across the face. “That’s for the 2 people we lost. You’ve nearly cost everyone at ‘New Beginnings’ their job. And now you want us to save your sorry arse?”  “Please! I’ll do anything you want, please don’t turn me in……I’ll never survive in prison – the mob will find me.” Pleaded Patrick with tears streaming down his face.  “In that case you will do everything we tell you, agreed?” asked Dan.  “Agreed”.Patrick said trying to stifle his sniffles.  Ken came over to the chair, “then we have to work quickly and you must do as I say?”  “Yes! Anything you say.” Patrick was beginning to feel less frightened. How bad could a makeover be? He was just relieved at Dan not going to the cops.  “Well first thing is to make you blend in around here if we’re to look after you – Dan! How about a beer? This could take some time!”  “Count me in.” said Dan.  Ken went out to the back room, ensuring Patricks drink was the one with the growth building steroids. Handing the drink to Patrick he said, “if your going to hang around here your going to have to drink a lot of beers – it’s the only way you’ll never be found.”  Patrick thought it a strange comment – how can beer help hide me? Maybe behind a beergut perhaps he mused to himself.  “Now then, I think you need quite a bit of work, your hair hasn’t seen any cutting lately, has it?” Ken said running his hand through the long, dark locks of hair at the back of Patricks head.  “No, I kind of avoid haircuts – my hair is so thin, I never like what they do to it.” Responded Patrick, now looking in the mirror at his hair.  “Well boy! Having it longer doesn’t make it thicker,” Ken went on grabbing a pair of heavy-duty Oyster clippers, “Let’s start with the length.”  As the sound of the clippers being fired up filled the air, Patrick started to worry. The teeth met his front hairline and began to take the hair down to a quarter inch. Patrick couldn’t believe his eyes as the clippers cleared more and more hair from the top of his head, only stopping just past his crown. He took a huge gulp on his beer, as if for courage, but found himself enjoying the taste. Dan caught a signal from Ken to grab a few more.  Within a few minutes, all the length on Patrick’s head was gone. He certainly looked different, but he didn’t really like it – he’d had long hair ever since his early teens.  Ken turned the clippers off. Examining the top of the head he then said, “Your getting a little sparse on top, your not going to be able to pull off a HnT or recon. Maybe we should shave it all off.”  “No! Please don’t shave me bald, I’d look terrible.” protested a worried Patrick.  “Shut it, boy! Remember, who’s the boss now.” Dan suddenly interrupted.  “Sorry, I know but I’ll put up with any other haircut, just don’t take all my hair off.”  Patrick said easing his tone a little.  “Okay. I won’t shave it all off,” Ken continued, changing the guard on the clippers, “I’ll do one of my specialties instead.” And with that he brought the clippers to the hairline again and drew them slowly through the remaining hair and in their wake, only white skin remained. Patrick went to complain, but saw Dan get up towards him.  As Ken continued the clippering Dan could now see Ken was indeed giving the boy one of his specialties – an MPB cut.  As Ken turned off the clippers, he asked, “So how do you like it so far?”  “You said you weren’t going to shave all my hair off!” Patrick said as tears began to form in his eyes.  “You said any haircut. Besides – you’ll still have hair this way, and you were on the way to male pattern baldness anyway. I’m just speeding up the process.” Ken smiled as he went to his counter to get some of his special hair removal ingredient.  Patrick couldn’t believe how different he looked already. Ken had just removed the last of the permanent hair depilatory gel, which he’d left on extra long. Patrick could feel a definite tingling on his scalp. There wasn’t a single hair to be seen- no shadow, just a ring of long, black hair around the sides and back. He looked so old – so freaky, and this was permanent.  “Drink up Boy! You’ll soon like the changes.” Laughed Ken, noticing the look of shock on Patrick’s face.  “Now for the rest of the hair,” and he took another attachment, switched on the clippers and commenced to run them up from the base of the neck to the crown, pushing Patrick’s head forward. Now with his chin pressed against his chest, he couldn’t see the results. He could feel the heat of the blades stripping him of all his hair. But, hang on – was that his cock twitching. He couldn’t believe he was starting to get a hard-on. His head was spinning a little – it must be the beer! He thought to himself.  When Ken had finished, Patrick was able to look at himself in the mirror. His dark, long locks were gone, but he wasn’t bald, Ken had left him with a fairly thick band of hair framing the bald skin on top. Suddenly, a high pitched sound started up, his head was pushed forward again, and Ken was going up the back of his head again, this time, only trimming the edges and blending it into the thicker hair.  When he was finished, Ken showed Patrick the finished results in a hand mirror.” See! I did as you asked. Any style except totally shaved.”  Even though he was angry at Ken, he was starting to feel more relaxed. As he looked closer, he was starting to think he was going to be safe from Alverez and at the same time, escape the hands of the FBI. Maybe it was worth the new haircut!  Part 15  “Patrick! I think it’s time for a little payment for the trouble you have caused Dan,” Ken purred into Patrick’s ear.  “What do you mean.” Asked Patrick nervously  Ken began to lower the back of the chair. He noticed that the beer was definitely having an effect on Patrick’s body, he was developing a large beer gut on his skinny frame already.  “I just want to make sure, that, your extra popular with the customers around here.”Ken smiled. And with that he attached a large cylinder to Patrick’s now exposed cock. He hooked it up by a tube running to a small compressor unit. At the same time, he attached two smaller cylinders to each nipple and again attached each to a tube on the compressor.  As he turned it on, the sudden noise and sensation made Patrick jump.  “I’m not having any of this freaky shit!” Patrick said going to get up out of the chair, but as he looked down he stopped himself; what had happened to his stomach – he’d always been skinny, now he had this large jutting beer-gut. This was just what Ken needed. The delay gave Dan enough time to restrain Patrick, while Ken gave him an injection.  “That will relax you boy. Dan! Give our boy here another beer.”  Patrick slouched back into the chair. “WH…….?”  “Yeah! The paralysis drug I gave you reacts real quick!” said Ken.  Dan brought the beer over. “Now open wide,” said Ken as he forced the mouth open. “Dan – I think our friend here is a little parched.”  Dan began to pour the brew slowly down Patrick’s throat – to prevent gagging. Patrick was unable to move. He felt the beer going down his throat, but he couldn’t move. When Dan was finished, Ken asked him to bring the remaining special labeled Beer in his fridge. “your going to get a real thirst for this brew young man,” responded Ken, seeing the fear in Patrick’s eyes. Patrick had to admit he was already getting to love the beer despite never being a beer drinker before.  Ken and Dan had been working on the company snitch for nearly 4 hours now. Ken looked up from his work to see Bart coming through the rear door.  “Thought I come and take a look at how your getting on. Brought you some sandwiches too in case yo….. Jesus! Is that Patrick? “ Bart suddenly said noticing the figure in the chair.  “No. This is Kell.” Smiled Ken, finishing up with a small metal trolley he’d been using.  “There is no longer a Patrick Giovedi. This bears name is Ken O’Halloran, ‘BeerKeg’ to his friends.”  “No kidding”, whistled Bart. “I’ve got to hand it to you partner, this is your best work yet!”  Dan nodded in agreement as they looked at the transformation in front of them. The pasty, skinny Italian had been remade into a huge, hairy, monstrously built Irish Biker  Still naked in the chair, Patrick’s belly was more than a beer gut now. It measured over 50 inches, and his now obvious manboobs were sitting on top of the huge stomach. His nipples had been stretched and were the size of silver dollars now, both nipples hanging even lower after heavy weight, gold rings now adorned them. Bart couldn’t stop looking at the giant cock – as thick as a beer can and over 13 inches long. He now had severe male pattern baldness , with only a ring of red hair around the sides. It had to be a 7 on the Norwood Scale. His face seemed bloated, he now had a few double chins, his skin had no real tan, he seemed a lot fairer – more Irish than Italian. He was wearing a walrus style moustache that covered his top lip. It hung down the sides of his mouth and curled at the ends. It was a luxuriant red also – obviously dyed, as this guy looked like he was over 50.  His eyebrows were bushier, and the same color red as the rest of the hair on his body. And that too was luxuriant – all over his back and chest, that sort of hair would require a lot of wax to see smooth skin again.  “There is still a bit of work to do to him yet…… just to teach him a lesson.” Said Ken waving some smelling salts under Patrick’s nose. He started to stir, slowly at first – then he began to moan.  “ What happened? I feel like a truck ran into me.” Patrick said suddenly realizing where he was and that he hadn’t been dreaming.  “You’ve been out for hours, your bound to feel a bit groggy,” replied Ken. “Ready to see the new you?”  As Ken spun the chair around a piercing scream filled the Barbershop. Ken added, “Not to your liking, Beerkeg?”  “Fucking hell….what the? I’m not me any more. I’m so fat! I look older than you guys.  I never agreed to this, I mean it can’t be legal?” yelled Patrick as he tried to struggle against the restraints.  Dan spoke first. “Your lucky we didn’t turn you in to the cops, or better yet, Alverez”.  Ken had switched the TV on and the swirling patterns started. Patrick tried to turn away but found himself starting to relax, his eyes starting to glaze over.  “Now for some reconditioning,” said Ken. “A little dumbing down is warranted here…….What the fu…..?  Ken was suddenly startled by the sound of the back door being ripped off it’s hinges.  The big, bald frame of Tony Alverez was stepping over the smashed door. He’d been snooping around…..he knew there was something fishy about the Bar next door, and when he’d heard this scream coming from the Barbershop, he ran down the back alley – gun drawn.  “Hands up! That means you in the chair as well.” Barked Alverez.  Bart, Dan and Ken did as they were told, only Patrick couldn’t as he was still restrained and transfixed by the hypnotic screen in front of him.  Going over to the chair, Alverez repeated the command, then noticed the restraints, “What’s going on here? What are you fags doing to the fat guy?  “Oh, that’s just Beerkeg,” replied Ken. “He likes a bit of rough play when he has a haircut.” Ken smiled.  “Why is he looking like a zom……at the televisio…..those patterns are….” Alverez had made the mistake of turning to look at the screen that Beerkeg was staring at.  “Don’t anyone try anything……..funny…..” Alverez tried to say.  “Come here and take a seat, son – you look tired!” said Ken getting Dan to help him carefully remove the gun from Alverez’hand. They directed him to another chair being careful not to turn his head.