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bellakitse · 3 years

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The 'B' Word

Carlos and TK run into Carlos’ three sisters on the street and decide to have dinner with them. Over the course of the meal, their friends with benefits relationship changes.

Written for @911lonestarweek - Day 1: Romance/“You are the only one for me.”/Fluff

Carlos holds the door for TK to walk through, trying to keep his grin at bay in the face of TK’s epic pout. He’d suggested a night of putt-putt, thinking it would be a friendly and easygoing activity they could enjoy as they try to put more emphasis on the friends part of their unconventional relationship. It was supposed to be a casual night out. However, Carlos didn’t anticipate that TK would be horrible at the game or be such a lovable sore loser.

“You cheated,” TK accuses him, the scowl on his handsome face cuter than it has any right to be. Carlos swallows back a sigh at the thought. It’s moments like this that show him how truly head over heels he is for the man before him.

He pushes that thought down too.

TK has made it more than clear he’s not ready for more than what they are right now – friends who enjoy each other’s company in and out of the bedroom.

He tells himself how he always does when these thoughts start to creep in that it’s enough for now. He gets to spend time with TK; he gets to touch him, hear the soft sounds he makes when they’re together, he gets his smiles.

So what if they don’t have a label?

Having some parts of TK Strand, Carlos has quickly learned, is infinitely better than not having him at all.

“At putt-putt?” he questions with an amused grin pushing away his less than pleasant thoughts. “You think I cheated at putt-putt?”

“Yes,” TK shoots back, his expression set in a childish frown, causing Carlos’ grin to grow.

“How exactly?” he questions, outright smirking when TK stalls, his pout growing as he can’t come up with anything.

“You distracted me with your you-ness,” TK finally answers, waving a hand in his direction as if it explains everything.

Carlos feels his face go warm, but it doesn’t stop him from feeling incredibly smug too. He reaches out, slipping a finger through one of the loops of TK’s jeans, pleased when TK comes into his space easily, his arms going around Carlos’ neck as he holds him close.

“That’s an interesting way to say you think I’m hot, sweetheart,” he murmurs teasingly as he presses his nose against TK’s temple.

“You already know I think that,” TK scoffs at him, turning his head to kiss the corner of his mouth, his tongue peeking out in a tiny teasing lick. “Don’t pretend now.”

Carlos lets out a steadying breath as his body instantly reacts to TK’s goading. “I still like to hear it,” he answers with a playful pout of his own, happy when it makes TK chuckle.

TK brings his hands down, cupping Carlos’ face between them, using the leverage to close the tiny height difference between them as he brushes his lips against his. “Needy,” he whispers, the word spoken against Carlos’ mouth causing him to let out a moan, proving TK’s point.

“Let’s go back to my place,” he whispers back, his hands giving TK’s hips a suggestive squeeze.

TK laughs softly as he shakes his head. “You promised me dinner.”

“I’ll make us something when we get there,” he promises now, groaning when TK shakes his head again.

“You and I both know – if we get behind closed doors, we’re not eating anything but each other, Reyes,” TK tells him, smirking shamelessly when he gasps at his words. “I want real food first.”

“Fine,” he grumbles, willing down the blush on his face and the arousal coursing through him at the mental image TK’s words have provoked.

TK goes to take a step away from him, ready to start walking on their quest to find some food, but Carlos holds on to him, grinning back at him when it makes TK raise a brow in question. He doesn’t answer with words; instead, he cups TK’s face like he’d done to him, swallowing the small gasp he lets out with his lips.

He kisses TK thoroughly, taking his time as he feels TK’s body go lax against his, kissing him back lazily, pressing his tongue against the back of Carlos’ teeth in a way that makes his toes curl from the butterflies he feels in his stomach.

Carlos could get lost in the act of kissing TK Strand and often does, like now, which is probably why he doesn’t realize people have walked up to them until there is a loud and obvious clearing of someone’s throat startling the two of them.

“What – “ TK starts to say, sounding dazed, and Carlos would take a moment to be proud of that if it wasn’t for the horror he’s experiencing in the face of his three older sisters standing before them, grinning like deranged clowns.

“Well, well, well,” Lola starts, like the rabble-rouser she is, her grin looking painful from how big it is. “Look who we have here being all indecent in public? Isn’t there laws against practically having sex in public spaces, Officer Reyes?”

“Would he have to arrest himself?” Valentina asks ironically – the oldest but by no means the most mature – piling on with a smirk of her own.

Sofía, the second oldest and usually the quietest, smiles softly at him, almost sympathetic if it wasn’t for the laughing glint in her eyes. “How much do you wish the ground would swallow you up right now, manito?”

“Very much so,” he grits out with a tight smile as their enjoyment of the situation grows. He feels TK’s body shift next to him a second before his hand touches Carlos’, linking their pinkies together. He turns his head, surprised at the gesture, and finds TK looking a little lost but supportive of him. It loosens something in his stomach, and as TK gives him a half-smile, Carlos is helpless but to return it. “TK, these are my sisters, Valentina, Sofía, and Lola,” he says, pointing at each of them in turn, getting a wave back from all three. “Girls, this is TK,” he continues, not adding anything else though he can see the curiosity in his sisters’ eyes. “Anyway, we were going to go grab a bite to eat, so – “

“What a coincidence, so are we!” Lola exclaims happily, her brown eyes twinkling, and Carlos shakes his head, already seeing where she’s going with this.

“We should all get a bite together,” Valetina continues, and Carlos has to stifle the groan that is dying to come out at the tag-teaming happening before him.

“We barely get to see you, hermanito,” Sofía adds on with a sad face that fools no one.

“We saw each other two weeks ago at Mami’s for Sunday lunch,” he points out, rolling his eyes when the three of them shrug their shoulders in unison.

“Way too long, bro,” Lola answers, getting a nod from their other two sisters. “And we’re obviously not sharing enough if none of us knew you have a boyfri – “

“Okay!” Carlos interrupts before she can finish the dreaded ‘B’ word. The last thing he needs is his meddling sisters spooking TK with that title. He looks at him with an apologetic look on his face, hoping he understands. “Do you mind if they join us?”

TK looks at him for a moment and then at his sisters, a sly grin making its way onto his face that fills Carlos with dread. “That depends,” he starts, raising an eyebrow at the girls. “How many ‘baby Carlos’ stories can I get out of this meal?”

Carlos lets out that groan he’s been holding back as his older sisters all smile at TK like he’s a new shiny toy.

Being the boldest one of his sisters, Lola steps towards TK, slipping her arm through his. “All the stories you want, my dude. Let’s start with the one where Carlos would play Selena’s ‘bidi bidi bom bom’ on repeat and do her spins in the living room until one time he almost threw up on the carpet from twirling so much,” she recounts, throwing a grin at him over her shoulder as she and TK start walking ahead.

Carlos closes his eyes for a moment, opening them again when he hears snickering at his side. He glares at Valentina and Sofía and their matching grins.

“We better catch up to them before she tells him that you can’t get through a single Disney or Pixar movie without crying like a baby, and that’s why you don’t watch them in the theater anymore,” Valentina warns him, laughing at him when his eyes widen.

He doesn’t move for a moment, letting them pass before him. TK throws a look back at him, half-worried but also gleeful as Lola says God only knows what in his ear, and Carlos can’t help the mixture of apprehension and tentative joy he feels at his worlds colliding.

“Keep up, manito, before we steal your boy away,” Lola shouts out, already crossing the street with TK still wrapped around her arm.

“Shit,” Carlos swears low before rushing to catch up.

֎֎֎

They end up at some hipster tapas restaurant. It’s not his usual style, but his sisters and TK seem to like it as they all pick from the multiple small plates at their large table. The girls each have a wine glass in their hands and blessedly don’t blink an eye when TK says he doesn’t drink and orders an ice tea.

He sits next to TK, with his sisters on the other side of the table, watching the two of them like they’re putting on a show for their enjoyment. He glares at them, hoping they’ll cut it out, but they seem to just find his scowls enjoyable – ignoring him in favor of focusing on TK.

“So TK, how did you and our little brother meet?” Valentina asks, starting off the inquisition.

TK pauses mid-reach for the papas bravas at her question before grabbing the dish and scooping some onto his plate for him, giving him a smile when he says thank you. “Um, we met on a call,” he starts to say, taking the plate of garlic shrimp he offers him in return. “I’m a firefighter; we were answering a call to a car accident, and Carlos was the leading officer on the scene.”

“Ohh, a firefighter, nice,” Lola says, throwing him a teasing look. Carlos is grateful for it as it makes TK laugh, and he misses the pointed look his other sisters give him at the way he and TK interact so easily.

He knows they are dying to ask.

“How did you snag such a hottie, Carlitos?” Lola continues, turning her teasing towards him.

Carlos rolls his eyes; used to his sister’s good-natured ribbing, he opens his mouth to mess with her, only for TK to let out a snort.

“Well, first, look at him,” TK answers for him, turning to look at him with a teasing but soft look of his own, a sweet smile playing on his lips. “He’s gorgeous.”

Carlos feels his heart jump at the easy way TK compliments him, not shy in the least as it makes his sisters share another round of looks that this time TK catches.

“It seems to be a family trait. You’re all very beautiful,” he says to them with a charming smile that has Carlos groaning and laughing at once as it totally works on all three of them.

“Don’t butter them up,” he complains as he sees the twinkle in all their eyes. “They’re already insufferable all on their own. If you hype them up, they’ll just be impossible.”

“It’s not hype if it’s true,” Sofía says with a flick of her curly hair, getting a nod from Valentina and Lola.

“That’s right, wey,” Valentina continues, grinning at the face he makes at them. “Listen to your boyfriend; we’re beautiful.”

Carlos freezes at the word boyfriend, but TK just laughs with the girls, moving the conversation along as he asks more about Carlos’ childhood. He leans in, listening intently as the girls share embarrassing but honestly sweet stories about him. Each looking at him with the great love he knows they feel for him.

TK hangs on to every word, smiling softly over at him every few minutes as he files away information – like his love for anything custard and his intense fear of cicadas.

“One time when I was 15, this kid in the neighborhood was picking on me,” Valentina tells the story, sharing smiles with Lola and Sofía as they start to chuckle, remembering the moment.

“We were all playing outside, and he came over and started making fun of my glasses or clothes. I don’t even remember, but I was on the verge of tears when Carlos, who had been playing with his action figures on the porch, comes running and kicks him as hard as he can on the shins, surprising the kid. He tripped, and Carlos jumped on him, hitting him with his tiny fists, screaming at him not to be mean to his sister,” Valentina pauses, looking over at him fondly. “I’m eight years older than Carlos, he was only seven at the time, but he was still protecting me.”

“Awww,” TK gushes, looking over at him with a tender glint in his pretty green eyes. “That’s so sweet and so in character.”

Carlos feels himself blush at the focus of everyone around the table, fidgeting as they all grin at him. “I protect the people I care about,” he grumbles, embarrassed.

“I know,” TK answers softly, reaching out to take his hand. “Trust me, I know.”

Carlos stares at TK feeling a shift in the air, his silly heart giving a flip as hope starts to sneak its way inside it.

“What else?” TK questions, turning back towards his sisters but not letting go of his hand.

The girls share another look between them, and Carlos can only guess what they’re thinking before they jump into more stories.

The rest of the night passes in a blur of laughter and childhood anecdotes, and before Carlos knows it, they’re settling up the bill and walking out of the restaurant. They linger outside for a moment before, one by one, the girls hug TK first, telling him he needs to come to the next Reyes’ lunch and that their mother is going to fall in love with him. TK smiles through it, not making any promises other than checking his schedule with him. He forks over his phone easily when Lola asks to add him to WhatsApp with the promise of baby pictures of him, and Carlos just knows she’ll add TK to a group chat before the end of the night.

They turn to hug him, tight and warm as always, each whispering in his ear how much they like TK and how happy they are that he’s found someone who makes him smile the way he’s smiling. He hugs them back, all the while looking at TK over their shoulders, wondering what’s just happened in the course of the night.

He hails them a cab and reminds them to text him when they each get back to their homes, getting fond rolls of their eyes as they promise before getting into the cab, leaving him and TK alone with this sudden shift in their relationship.

Neither says anything for a moment, each knowing one of them needs to start.

“So,” he begins, biting the bullet. “I guess we should talk about tonight because I don’t know if you realize this, but my sisters just left with the impression we’re in a serious relationship, and that means I will have at least a dozen texts by morning from my mother.”

“Sure,” TK says, nodding quickly, nervous energy pouring out of him. “But first –“

TK takes a step into his space, and then another until his chest is pressed against his, and Carlos instinctively puts his hands on TK’s slim waist seconds before TK covers his mouth with his, in a hungry, almost desperate kiss. Carlos matches his energy, pouring all the love and longing coursing through him, claiming TK’s mouth the same way TK has claimed his heart.

He holds him so close he’s sure TK can feel the way his heart is pounding against his own.

“TK – “ he gasps out, his skin tingling at every point of contact. “What – “

“I’m crazy about you,” TK blurts out, stepping out of his hold to pace. “I didn’t plan it. I didn’t see it coming. You were just supposed to be this cool guy I had good chemistry and good sex with, someone I would be friends with and share a bed with on occasion. This was supposed to be simple. But every day, I fall for you a little bit more and more with your kindness, your patience, the way you make me laugh and smile even when I don’t want to.”

He runs a hand through his hair, causing it to stick up, looking adorable even as his eyes have gone wild. “You weren’t the plan. You came into my life when I was at my worst, and for some reason, you still wanted to be around me, offering me the best of you, and I have been trying to ignore it because I thought it was too soon after my break-up or because deep down, I think you deserve better than me.”

“There is no one better than you,” he interrupts, needing TK to understand that once and for all. “You’re not perfect, TK, I know that,” he says, holding up a hand when TK goes to argue. “But there is no one better – you are the only one for me.”

TK lets out a gasp at his words, finally not moving about, coming to a stop, and Carlos takes the chance to touch him again, bringing him in closer as he cups his face, tilting it up to him.

“Your sisters looked at me tonight as someone worthy of you,” he whispers, his eyes going glassy. “I so want to be that. I want to be worthy of your love.”

Carlos smiles, feeling everything inside him melt for the man in his arms. “Oh, baby,” he whispers softly, leaning in to kiss his forehead, his eyelids, cheeks, and the tip of his nose before he brushes his lips against TK’s. He pulls him into a hug when he feels him tremble. “Don’t you get it? You already are.”

“Carlos – “ TK gasps something like a sob into his neck.

He pulls him back, making sure he’s looking at him before he finally says the words he’s been holding in for so long. “I’m in love with you, TK.”

TK lets out a wet laugh, nodding rapidly as he grasps his shoulders. “I’m in love with you too,” he answers, smiling brightly, matching Carlos’ own smile.

The kiss they share is salty from their mixed tears but perfect.

Breaking the kiss, they press their foreheads together, basking in the moment and the change in their relationship. Carlos doesn’t think he’s ever been happier, but after a moment, he finds himself letting out a groan as a realization creeps in.

“What is it?” TK questions him curiously.

“I just realized that if my sisters learn we weren’t official before we ran into them and that dinner with them helped in any way – I’m never going to hear the end of their mocking,” he answers, blinking in surprise when TK lets out a chuckle that quickly turns into a deep belly laugh. It only grows as Carlos pouts at him in return.

“Not even five minutes of being boyfriends, and you’re laughing at my pain,” he says, trying to keep from smiling but being unable to do so at the use of the ‘B’ word and the way TK lights up at it. “You’re lucky I love you.”

TK sobers at his words, the laughter dying out but the loving smile staying in place. “I am so lucky,” he says softly, taking his hand.

Carlos intertwines their fingers, bringing their hand up to his lips, laying a kiss over TK’s knuckles. “I’m lucky too.”

#911 lone star #tarlos #911 lone star fic #tarlos fic #lonestarweekend #lsweekend2021 #tk x carlos #my writing

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bubsdolan · 3 years

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concept: reader and grayson are in a long distance relationship and for his birthday ethan or kris or someone surprises him and flys her out 🥺🥺

{since im one bit fat mess of a human, i failed to get this done for their birthday... so here’s you surprising gray for christmas!! ho ho ho just call me santa x}

“ok, ive landed! are you sure he doesn’t suspect im here?” you nibble at your fingernails, pacing up and the down the airport arrivals lounge as you panic over the phone to kristina. wondering if your surprise had been or was going to be ruined. scared some fans may have spotted you on your journey cross country to reunite with your boyfriend.

being in a long distance relationship was hard. it certainly wasn’t for the faint hearted, the weak minded and untrustworthy. sure you and grayson had your down days, finding the distance and time difference excruciating, but if anything it made your relationship stronger. making your romance blossom in ways being around each other 24 hours 7 days a week could never. it made every conversation shared between you both special. it made being back in each others arms after many painful months apart meaningful and reminded you that no matter where you were in the world, grayson dolan will always be your final destination.

“stop stressing, y/n! he doesn't have any idea that you're here. to be perfectly honest he thinks you’re asleep, s’constantly checking his phone every five minutes for a text or call from you.” kristina calmed your nerves, sat in the passenger seat next to ethan as they drove to collect you from the airport. making up an excuse to grayson that they were going to get some lunch. leaving him alone to await your good morning message he valued the most- his day never fully began until he heard from you.

‘bro, i can't wait to see him cry,” you heard ethan tease, indicating to you that you were on loud speaker and ethan too, had just witnessed your mental breakdown.

when the happy couple finally arrive at lax, lots of happy greetings and cuddles were exchanged as you finally got to catch up with your bestfriends. you couldn’t help but feel the pit of your stomach bubble up with nerves and anxiety as you approach closer and closer to the dolan resistance. you had been resisting to temptation of texting grayson, holding off all contact with him untill you were back safely in his arms.

“relax, y/n. you’re his christmas miracle.” kristina felt how tense you were, providing you with a one armed side hug as ethan lead you up the pathway into the oddly quite house. allowing you time to take in the awe and beauty of the decorations. the absence of nutcrackers lines up on the mantelpiece that made you feel like home, the deliciousness and comforting scent of wakeheart christmas candles being burnt and christmas tree you got to witness brewing up a storm between the brothers as they figure out how to assemble it, live on facetime. you breathe in the change of air, your nostrils filling with nostalgia, safety and comfort.

“yo gray! c’mere!” ethan shouts from beside you, sending you a toothy grin as he and kristina move off to the side of the living room and get their cameras ready to film the reunion of the two lovers- which can only be described as a scene from a movie.

your heart rate picks up as you hear the heavy footsteps of your boyfriend draw closer. his head buried deep into his phone and fingers working rapidly at his keyboard as he was so panaorid and caught up with the lack of communication he was yet to receive from you.

“bro, y/n still hasn't messaged me. you think something-” his voice stopped. his chest tightening as he finally makes eye contact with you after looking up from his phone. standing there in all your glory, eyes shining directly into his as you hold your arms out and make grabby needy hands his way.

“merry christmas, bear,” your voice just above a whisper. quickly being replaced with a squeal of delight and your body distancing itself from the ground. graysons arms engulfed your waist as he’s lifting you up and spinning you around in his arms. twirling your entwined bodies around untill he felt dizzy, sick with love and happiness.

“no way! no, oh my god! you’re here! baby, you’re actually here!” grayson chokes out through his sobs. placing you gently back to the floor and immediately smashing his lips to yours in a long waited, desperate kiss, not even giving you time to reply to his excitement. the two of you only pulling away when grayson’s body can't contain the trembling due to his heavy tears. you reach your hand up to wipe under his eyes, face softening as your hands trace patterns soothingly over his inflamed skin.

“how-how? i thought you weren't able to fly over for chirstmas? he questioned, referring to that one heartbreaking call you had to make when you explained to your boyfriemd how your mum was unwilling to let you travel this christmas. making false statements that you had to spend it in your town country with your family. “what changed?”

you nod your head over in the direction of ethan and kristina, both watching in awe, displaying contagious and heartfelt smiles. grayson follows your eyeline, sending the pair a thankful smile as he drags your body closer to his. kissing you once more to make up for lost time. ethan and kristina high five each other out of success, taking the hint and heading in the direction of their own room to give you and grayson your much needed time alone.

grayson drags you over to the sofa, wasting no time in wanting to wrap you up in his arms for the forceable future. but before he has the change to drag your body down with his own, you’re pulling away. running over to collect your carry on case and rummaging through it to find exactly what you were looking for.

grayson sits patiently with a frown upon his face, already missing the warmth and scent of your body. but he lets you be, seeing the corners of your mouth them upright as you walk back in his direction. standing over him between his legs as you hold a neatly wrapped box under his nose.

“i wanted to give you a little something early. its nothing big but- here just open it.” you hand him the gift he’s been eyes up, detailed with a red and gold bow and finished with a handwritten ‘G♡’

grayson chuckes slight, watching as you become flustered under his assumed gaze. his eyes going soft at the care and delicacy of the present. witnessing your cheeks heat up in an adorable blush as you fidget with the chain around his neck. needing something to occupy your mind away the your anxiety and sentiment your early christmas gift held.

he unwrapped the present, untying the bow carefully as he knew you were bound to keep it in your relationship memory box after he was done with it. unpacking an even smaller, securely wrapped box inside which kept his suspicions growing.

‘’its a bond touch bracelet’” you explain watching as he inspected the thin black watch, almost comparable to a fitbit. he didn't have the heart to tell you he hated it at first glance, it definitely wasnt up to par with his $40,000 rolex. but as you went on to explain the inner workings and meaning behind the jewellery, it quickly became his most prized procession- after you.

“it connects to mine, see here.” you lift your wrist up eye level to his face, flashing the identically watch that was flashing green. a heart beat symbol vibrating across the narrow screen as your own increased in the presence of your soulmate.

“even when we are miles apart, across the other side of the globe, you just simply tap the screen and you’ll feel a gentle vibration. a light will flash up to let you know im thinking of you. no matter where we are in the world, we stay connected.”

if grayson wasn’t crying before hand, he certainly was now. strapping the band securely to his wrist. hearing the soft buzzes from your own as he taps the screen three times. a small heart beating on display as he lets you know how much he loves you.

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 4 years

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Trois:

Chapter One.

The leading lady will be introduced eventually but I feel like with the way this is written I need to focus on Adonis and Erik first.

Warnings: AU!Erik, AU!Adonis, smut, bisexual, mentions of blood, threesome.

The 2019 Comic Con at the Los Angeles Convention Center was populous to say the least. Adonis Johnson felt like he was elbow-to-elbow with the animated and roused crowd of event goers. Everyone is grouped like teenagers in those cheesy high school flicks. You have your Nerds—never worried about being challenged to prove their knowledge about the gaming character or superhero on the shirt they're wearing, yelling out quotes in a spirit of shared fandom. Then, you have your cos players—rehearsed smiles on their faces whenever they are stopped to have their picture taken, sort of deteriorating and looking less magnificent as the day goes on due to wig issues, broken weapons, or itchy and hot costumes. Then, there are those individuals like Adonis who endure the hectic universe.

Adonis is wearing a faded orange muscle tee with a mixture of his favorite anime characters such as Saitama, Goku, Sasuke, L, Yusuke Urameshi, and Spike Spiegel. He styled the tee with a pair of Nike Dri-FIT Basketball shorts in black, black Jordan socks, and a pair of orange and black Air Jordan 1’s on his feet. He couldn’t forget his layered silver chains and finger rings to make it more stylish, or his charcoal black Coach backpack to carry his essentials like the sun screen he needed and some water from standing in that long ass line in the blazing afternoon sun. The cast of Zombieland: Double Tap will be there, and over 800 exhibitors. Adonis didn’t even know where to start or end and at first he figured the map in his hand that he grabbed at the entrance was a great idea but he tossed it in the closest receptacle.

Adonis scratched at the steri-strip on the corner of his pouty bottom lip since the regular stitches were removed by his doctor almost 48 hours ago. Adonis earned that busted lip from a fight he triumphed in. He didn’t get that wound from the type of fights you see on paper view—he’s an Underground Boxer who participates in Street fighting. Yes, Adonis fights in ‘unlicensed’ matches. This means it operates outside the governing bodies of the sport and is susceptible to rules being broken and fights being fixed. It is illegal in many countries because it is dangerous and disruptive to daily life—running the possibility of being charged with several crimes especially. It’s Adonis’ personal fight club, a badge of honor for him.

Adonis was introduced to the idea of a fight club by a childhood buddy of his that died five years ago. His name was Clark Wilson. Adonis and Clark used to be in Juvie together—two angry kids who used their fists because of the violence and hatred surrounding them. When Adonis’ father, famous Boxer named Apollo Creed’s wife Mary Anne came looking for Adonis while he was in Juvie, she took him in as her own son and started him out in therapy and anger management groups. For the most part, Adonis felt as if his anger was suppressed but he missed the way fighting made him feel——alive. First, Adonis had to understand the reasoning of a Fight Club. Fight Club is about releasing his anger and stress; about fighting his problems; about going against normalcy and the safe little bubble he has become accustomed to living in.

Rules were put in place and Adonis found a private property hidden from the public eye so that the authorities can’t interfere. Adonis uses a basement of a record shop for his Fight Club location. If someone would die in Fight Club, there isn’t anything anyone could do. There has only been one case where someone died in Adonis’ Fight Club and he swore to make sure it didn’t become deadly. Brutal, yes, but no murder. Pinching the steri-strip on his lip to keep it in place, Adonis visits an exhibitor—Comic Madness. Pulling out his iPhone so he could use his Apple Pay, Adonis sifts through the comic books to find the ones he wanted. The price tag on them was a bit much but this was a once a year weekend event so he could break the bank.

Entrepreneur of a fitness company called Elite Body Edge, Erik Stevens strolls through Comic Con after checking out the Hellboy cast members doing a Q&A. Stylish per usual, dangling gold cross earring in his right ear, yellow and black camouflage cargos on, all-white creaseless Nike Air Force 1s, and a lax graphic tee with The Lost Boys on it, Erik pans his Canon PowerShot G7X Mark lll Camera around him, Vlogging his Comic Con experience for his YouTuber’s. When he’s not recording fitness and nutrition videos, Erik is vlogging about his daily life or giving advice to the anonymous subscribers who send him emails. He wanted to edit the video to look like a VHS video for a different aesthetic. Erik strolls past a group of cos players dressed as The Avengers and stops to record them, smiling at the enthusiasm and flashing his gold canines.

Erik sips from his souvenir cup, the straw making an annoying suctioning noise since it was nearly empty. Shaking the cup, ice chips clanking around, Erik stops to get some more footage. Just when he was about to end his vlogging, there was a rather sexy, good-looking dude with chestnut eyes, amber skin so smooth and velvety looking. The muscle tee he was sporting didn’t leave anything to the imagination. Clearly, he’s lean, and chiseled. Erik haltingly lowers his camera, his inky black eyes trailing over this mystery guys frame with enthrallment. Just when Erik thought he would be coming to Comic Con for some fanboy fun, he spotted a distraction with a nice ass. Erik is a bi-sexual man. Friends jokingly called Erik a hoe that got off on pussy or dick—a reckless hoe that played with fire. Married couples, closet homosexuals, threesomes with women, anything that caused mayhem and wreckage with relationships. Anything to get his thick dick wet.

Erik’s Adam’s Apple bobbed in his neck and his lips parted. When the mystery guy turned around Erik grunted deeply. Lips so thick and plump. Oooh. His breath became ragged and he felt himself swelling. Why did this have to happen to him right now? Donnie must have felt Erik’s hard eyes burning into the back of his skull because he looked back over his shoulder at him with a raised brow and obvious annoyance. The corners of Adonis’ eyes crinkled with suspicion. Erik found it comical, giving Adonis a sly half smirk when their eyes connected. Adonis shook out his shoulders, focusing back on the stacks of comic books in front of him. Why is his heart skipping a beat and his stomach in knots? The back of his neck prickled and he glanced over at Erik again before he cocked his head to the side. The devilish smirk on Erik’s face sparked Adonis’ short temper.

Thinking back to his anger management tips, Adonis tried to take a timeout by using “I” statements—to stay in control. Think before you speak, don’t make assumptions, calm yourself. As much as he wanted those methods to work, Erik’s smiling, smug face bothered Adonis. Who is this random ass nigga and why the fuck is he smiling like there’s a joke? Adonis started to feel more and more uneasy about Erik staring at him. Does he know about the Fight Club? That seemed to invigorate Adonis’ irritation because he began charging through a group of cos players and walked right up to Erik with his pectoral muscles puffed out and his hands in fists so tight he could feel the aftershocks from his fight almost two days ago. Erik stood his ground with a single brow raised, waiting for Adonis to cause a scene. As soon as Adonis crowded his personal space that was already so little with how many people surrounded them, Erik made it his business to allow his inky black eyes to drop to Adonis’ crotch and back up swiftly.

“The fuck is your problem staring at me, nigga?” Adonis spoke with a harsh whisper that caused his jaw muscles to clench, “You know me or something?” Adonis paused before he nodded his head slowly, “Let me guess...you wanna fight me?”

“Fight you?” Erik’s eyes become slits, “Why would I want to fight somebody I don’t even know?”

“Well, then you must have heard about me…” Adonis says with a questioning tone. Erik licks his lips and with no regard allows his piercing eyes to memorize the shape of Adonis’ mouth. Adonis couldn’t fight the urge to do the same. He’s turned on. Just as the tension between the two of them reaches a fever pitch, Adonis steps away before he could even realize what he was doing. Adonis didn’t even know he had been holding his breath until he drew in a shaky tone. He’s noticeably quieter now, his aggression tampered. He knew his bewilderment was written across his face. Adonis squared his shoulders and shook out his limbs as if Erik had a bind on him.

“You good, fighter?” Erik asks sarcastically, “You’re a boxer? I can tell by your reflexes. For a second I thought you were gonna try and knock me out,” Erik smiled. Adonis swallows a hefty amount of spit to calm the tingling sensation in his abdomen.

“Yeah...I box...underground,” Adonis clarified, “Been doing it for seven years now.”

“Ahh, dirty boxing, I see,” Erik strokes his goatee, “how does one get into that shit anyway? I’m interested.”

“You don’t choose it like you choose your next meal..you gotta be initiated in...they like to weed out the weak ones…”

“That hardcore?” Erik took a few steps towards Adonis.

“Hell yeah,” Adonis stares at Erik’s feet as if he were overstepping, “I can tell you more about it if you’re serious.”

“As long as it’s from the pro himself I’m all ears.”

This foreign feeling that washed over Adonis’ body was something he felt before when he questioned whether or not he wanted a man to suck his dick. He looks back at Erik just as he smiles and Adonis rolled his eyes away slightly. What the fuck is happening right now?

“I don’t even know your name, bro,” Adonis held out his hand to give Erik dabs, “I’m Adonis.”

“Erik,” He raised his hand to shake Adonis’. He didn’t want to linger too long but the feeling of his calloused palm teased his hand and it made him want to stroke it. When Erik let go, he allowed his fingertips to brush across the center of Adonis’ palm and that little touch caused Adonis’ biceps to flex. Good to see him react.

“you gotta be serious...this shit is...it’s rough,” Adonis cleared his throat, “Ain’t the place to really discuss this—“

“Nah, I’m cool,” Erik says with a chuckle—a teasing grin on his face and his eyes now following the definition of Adonis’ arms. Adonis didn’t like Erik staring at him so openly. Maybe Erik got the wrong vibe from Adonis—believing him to be a possible fuck he could conquer after this crowded event, “I’ll stick to boxing in my gym. This underground shit sounds like some kind of deadly contract.”

“It’s not for everybody,” Adonis says with a smirk, “But if you change your mind, how do I reach you? I usually don’t recruit fighters out in the open like this.”

“Here you go,” Erik pulls out his black leather wallet, retrieving a business card before handing it over to Adonis. It’s a black business card with a gold metallic painted edge for his fitness club Elite Body Edge. The business card is twice as thick as standard cards, since they are printed on 32 pt. uncoated cardstock, offering a superb heft and feel everyone will notice. Erik’s contact information is at the bottom of the card.

“I’ve heard of this fitness club, all good things too, I’ll keep in touch if you’re ever interested.”

“I’d like to come and watch the fights at least...is that cool?”

Adonis ponders for a bit, “We have people come and watch but it’s mainly members…”

Erik notices Adonis’ hesitation, backing away a little, “Listen, you hardly know me, I don’t want to intrude on your little secret society. However, you have my card, you can stop by the gym anytime. We have boxing equipment that you can use too.”

“Aight...cool...I’ll come and check it out,” Adonis pockets the card, “Nice to meet you, Erik, sorry for the way I came off at you earlier, my anger can be a bit out of control,” Adonis lets out a nervous chuckle.

“A bit? I get this vibe that it’s more than just a bit,” Erik turns to leave, “Don’t hesitate to stop by and get a good work out in! Enjoy the rest of your time here at Comic Con.”

“Will do,” Adonis salutes Erik before turning away and disappearing into the sea of people.

________________________________________________________

Elite Body Edge is designed with the purpose of building strong foundations by balancing flexibility, mobility, strength, conditioning and nutrition as well as giving you the perfect sculpt to turn heads; because a strong and sculpted foundation makes a power house. With an arsenal of knowledge, from competition preparation to rehabilitation to strength and conditioning, Elite Body Edge can design a program for any body habitus to achieve any fitness goal. They offer one-on-one training, group sessions and accountability programs to best fit your needs. Why train with Elite Body Edge? No contracts with affordable month-to-month membership, a safe environment to learn proper technique from experienced trainers, a flexible schedule with a variety of group classes to fit your schedule, and an encouraging atmosphere to make working out fun.

Elite Body Edge is a high-end gym experience. Some of the club amenities include, locker rooms complete with sauna and massage chairs, rooftop deck, group fitness classes, premium strength and cardio equipment including LifeFitness, HammerStrength, Precor, and Star Trac, and an amazing aquatic area for swim-fitness. Some of the classes include Restorative Yoga, H.E.A.T Camp, TRX, Feel Fit Naked, Boxing, Self defense, Spin, H.I.I.T, Yogalates, Circuit Burn, and many more. It’s located at 8053 Beverly Boulevard, Los Angeles, CA. It’s striking architecture was designed by National Design Award winner Ian Jackson of Studio Sofield. It’s 30-foot video wall for virtual-reality cycle classes is exceedingly popular, and it’s soaring 25-foot ceilings supported by illuminated linear columns and over 40,000 square feet of state-of-the-art equipment, Elite Body Edge is a modern-day escape straight out of a sci-fi film.

Erik is no stranger to the gym. Over the years he has received multiple certifications in performance enhancement, TRX Suspension and is a EliteFirst Certified Level 1 trainer, which he has employed as a strength and conditioning coach for the nationally recognized Fremont High School Basketball Team which has produced multiple athletes in the NBA. He supports the youth and employs them to stay active and live a healthy lifestyle. The fitness mogul himself was wrapping up a TRX tactical training course. Most of the occupants are military trained or athletes and with Erik’s skills it can keep them performing at the highest level. Sweaty, heart rate spiked, muscles fueled, and a round of applause, Erik puts up one hand with a black training glove to settle the cheers from his hard working pupils.

“Nah, y’all should be clapping for yourselves,” Erik wipes sweat from the tip of his nose, “You guys did an amazing job today. The shit is tough but I see improvement and progress. We’ll meet at the same time next Wednesday. Remember, get some rest, stay hydrated, and eat a well balanced diet.”

Everyone gathered their things and exited the class. Erik grabs some cleaning solution and a few disposable cloths to wipe down the equipment. Gym playlist on, you wouldn’t be able to keep Erik’s energy down for one second. He’s so amped up that he could go for another training session; work on his hamstrings and calves some more. Satisfied with his cleaning, Erik exits the classroom, the double glass doors closing behind him. The energetic, hip-hop music pumped up his clients to finish their workout sessions. The air circulating the gym masked the usual odor that comes with sweating and his gym staff are very vigilant on keeping the place tidy. His staff wears black workout gear from head to toe with the gym logo on the front.

As Erik walks through his gym, checking things out, a familiar face catches his eye. Training on an Everlast Powercore Dual bag with a speed bag attachment is the eye-candy from Comic Con just a week prior. He’s shirtless with a blue Adidas face mask on and fingerless black MMA gloves. His gym shorts hung low on his hips and his feet danced back and forth in his Speed-Flex boxing shoes in time with his fierce punches. Erik wondered when he became a member. He didn’t expect for Adonis to even take up the offer on joining the gym. Smirking, Erik strolls over towards Adonis at the same time as one of Erik’s pilates trainers, Andrea does. Andrea is wearing a black sports bra with the gym logo and black biker shorts. Her sleek platinum blonde pixie cut made her glistening peanut skin pop. Her dark brown eyes held recognition as well as lust.

“Donnie?” Andrea says with a sultry voice, “I knew that was you,” Andrea popped her hip out, staring Adonis up and down with a big white smile, “How are you?”

Adonis takes off his face mask, those thick lips extra moist from the perspiration on his skin, “Andrea, w’sup? I’m doing good…” Adonis seemed to be thrown off by her presence. From the way he looked at her with his chocolate eyes, they must have had an interesting relationship. Erik took note of the way Adonis sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and Andrea licked her lips and touched his arm with her fingertips.

“Why don’t you come and see me anymore? We used to have a good ass time...what happened with that? Got tired of me?” Andrea says with a single brow raised.

“I’ve been busy,” Adonis looked away awkwardly, the fresh scar above his right brow catching Andrea’s attention.

“Busy getting into a brawl? What’s that scar about?”

“You know me…” Adonis turned away, “Can’t pass up a good fight.”

Andrea didn’t hide her sexual appetite for Adonis from the way her eyes swept over his body, silently telling him how his ripped physique turned her on. Just when she allowed her eyes to drop to Adonis’ crotch, Erik was there next to her, the form-fitting Under Armor short sleeve grey top he wore drenched and molding with his well-built curves straining against the fabric. Two sexy men with twin facial features that made her drool like a love-sick dog.

“Didn’t think you would show up,” Erik held his hand out to shake Adonis’ hand, “How are you liking it so far?”

“It’s dope, I love the set up, I especially enjoy this boxing section...I mean, you have everything I need to help me train.”

“Where were you training before?” Erik asked.

“Delphi Boxing Academy, but I need more free roam, too many new people to train.” Adonis replies.

“...so, you know Andrea?” Erik looks over at her, her peanut colored skin immediately turning red and the top row of her teeth chewing on her pouty, pink bottom lip nervously.

“Yeah, we got history,” Adonis cracks a smile, “Maybe I should catch one of your Pilates classes...watch you do that seated toe touch.”

Erik arched a single thick brow at Adonis’ words. It wasn’t directed towards him but the seductive way he said that had a pool of desire filling the pit of his stomach. Erik knows exactly how that seated toe touch looked. Seated on the floor, knees drawn towards your chest, feet in the air and toes pointed to the sky, a complete view of a woman’s phat pussy or a man’s hefty bulge straining against the fabric of their stretchy leggings or shorts. Erik enjoys fucking a woman with a malleable body just as much as Adonis does it seems. He wouldn’t mind seeing how malleable Adonis can be.

“Let’s see if you can keep up,” Andrea gives Adonis one final look up and down before walking away, “my number is still the same.”

Adonis watches Andrea walk away, “you got a good selection on your staff, bruh.”

“Yup,” Erik agrees, head tilted to the side, dreads shifting across his forehead before he grins, baring his teeth, “gotta have options, a pretty face brings guests, it’s all business.”

“Well, I admire your business. The dedication and strive to pull something like this together is inspirational. I put my membership in a day ago and was trying to meet with you for a personal tour but your front desk staff said you were out for the day.” Adonis says.

“Yeah, I’m also a Biological Science Lab Tech two days a week pulling twelve hour shifts.”

“Damn, how the hell do you function?” Adonis says with a shocked voice.

“You gotta love what you do. You should know, with your own fight club and all, living a double life...working a regular 9-5 during the day I’m guessing?” Erik says with curious eyes.

“I’m a Senior Trading Analyst for Smith Boardley Financial Group so, yeah, it’s like living a double life. They don’t ask questions though, which is good.” Adonis’ face shows annoyance as if he didn’t want to talk about his job. Erik senses that maybe Adonis isn’t satisfied with his daytime life, that he feels more free at night and in the ring. He hardly even knew this guy and yet he wanted to know every little detail; ask him questions. He has so many layers to fold back, and besides his reasons behind fighting, Erik hopes to make Adonis admit to his attraction to him. Only thing is, Adonis has to believe it. He’s still uncertain and confused.

“Why do you fight?”

Silence settles between them for a short while before Adonis finally speaks.

“Freedom mainly. I want to stop controlling everything and just let go,” Adonis closes his eyes briefly, “if it’s not working out for me...I need to find something that doesn’t...something that doesn’t define me as this perfect dude with a perfect job, and all this fucking money. The things you own end up owning you. The people around you can drag you down. When I fight, I lose control. I’ve been taught at a very young age to bottle up my aggression but all I wanna do is use my hands and to experience some feeling in this numb world...this ‘cocooned society’.”

“So it’s not about the violence for you? I can understand that. I guess working out is a release for me...that’s an interesting method that I support,” Erik’s eyes scan Adonis’ body, taking a step back so he can blatantly check him out, “I wanna know how this fight club operates...you think I can come watch?”

Adonis lets go of a laugh, his dimples flashing, “Yeah, man, you can come watch. I’m gonna warn you now though, it can get pretty graphic.”

“Blood? Broken teeth? Nasty scars? That shit don’t phase me,” Erik smiles, allowing his eyes to drop over Adonis’ body. Adonis leans down to grab his water bottle, taking a sip of it and completely avoiding Erik’s unwavering eyes. Why were those eyes making Adonis’ nerves spike up with excitement. It disgruntled him and had Adonis frowning from the feeling.

“Listen, just don’t be late,” Adonis spoke with finality, placing his face mask back on, “Can’t have people wandering in at the last minute. Come by tomorrow night around 10.”

Adonis’ change in demeanor has Erik chuckling. He has a habit of wearing his emotions on his face.

“Will do, bro. Catch you tomorrow...champ,” Erik jeers before leaving Adonis to his training.

____________________________________________________________

Going Underground Records was Erik’s destination for the late evening. Founded in 2001, Bakersfield's Going Underground Records is Central California's largest and longest running vinyl record store and has recently expanded with a new brick-and-mortar location in Los Angeles. They buy, sell, and trade LPs, 45s, stereo equipment, local concert promotional items (posters, flyers, one-off recordings, etc.) and more. They purchase collections of all sizes, so whether you have a handful, or thousands of records to sell, call or stop by any day of the week. They buy daily and travel to you for large collections. It seems completely deserted from the front but Erik’s instructions from Adonis’ text was to go around back through a basement door. Parking his red Audi R8 across the street, Erik puts out his weed, leaving it in his car. Opening the door, Erik’s left foot hits the wet street.

Fully out of his car, Erik closes the door, turning to walk across the street towards the record shop. Erik is wearing a camouflage pullover hoodie with black sweats and white Jordan 1’s with a low cut style. Bringing his hood up to cover his freshly twisted locs, Erik saunters down a narrow alleyway before making a left turn ending directly behind the record shop. As soon as he approached the red stainless steel cellar doors, Erik knocks twice, stepping away just in time as a tall, carob-skinned man with a bald head and a single gold hoop earring dressed in a black bomber jacket with a dark purple T-shirt and dark blue denim jeans opens the cellar doors. He looked at Erik in an angry or threatening way, his bug-eyes practically sizing Erik up like he wasn’t welcome. Erik was expressionless, no signs of fear towards this shaq looking man whatsoever, instead, Erik pockets his hands and clears his throat to speak.

“I’m here for rebellion.” Erik says. He was told to say this at the door from Adonis’ text after the gym yesterday. Erik stopped him before Adonis took off in his matte black Chevy corvette. They exchanged numbers so that Adonis could text him the address and password for entry into the fight club.

“Why do you seek rebellion?” The man spoke with a voice as hard as the blade of a shovel.

“Because of this effeminized society that forces me to live a dull and meaningless life,” Erik says with an even tone.

“Come in, quick,” The man says, “I’m Damion, the owner of this record shop.”

“Erik,” He shook hands with the man before entering the basement of the record shop through the cellar doors. There are metal shelves filled with boxes and janitorial items. Following Damion, Erik could hear hoots and hollers growing louder and louder within the basement. A black drape ahead separated Erik and Damion from the fight club. When the drape was pulled back, the badly lit room with a boxing ring and a crowd of at least thirty people awaited Erik. The shouts and roars are angry and free in Erik’s ears. It smelled like sweat, liquor, weed, and Vaseline mixed with coagulate.

There, in the middle of the ring with his fists tightly clenched, black boxer shorts hanging low on his hips, and left nose bleeding is Adonis himself. What would be his excuse this time when he went to work the next day? Maybe that he tripped and fell face first, bloodying up his nose. He bares his teeth that are just as bloody as his nose, punching his opponent so hard that they fall to the floor of the ring, his head pinched between the floor of the ring and Adonis’ left knee. Adonis kept slamming his fist into the bridge of his opponents nose——a beefy looking white man with ginger hair and a large leprechaun tattoo on his broad back. He did it again and again in flat hard packing sounds you could hear over all the yelling until the ginger-haired man caught enough breath and sprayed blood to say, stop. Just as those words fell from his lips with difficulty, Adonis stands to his full height, fisting the air with triumph.

“WHO WANTS NEXT? The night is just getting started!!” Adonis yells, voice like a rising storm, “THE RING IS FREE!”

“I’ll take him on!” A random black guy wearing a FedEx uniform says, pointing to a tall blonde-haired alternative-looking white guy with arm tattoos and nails painted black, “He’s been giving me a dirty look all night, let’s see what your hands are like. I had a long fucking day too,” The FedEx worker removed his hat revealing a clean faded haircut with waves, “Lets go!!! Don’t act scared now!!”

The ginger-haired white man was pulled from the ring, a bloody trail from his face following him. Adonis slid between the ropes and hopped out of the ring, walking through the crowded room until he reached a table with a series of water bottles and towels. Adonis grabs a bottle of water to drink, his grip crushing the plastic bottle before he tosses it away. Erik’s attention was brought back to the ring when the black guy kicked the air out of the alternative white guy then landed on him pounding him limp. The white guy clawed his neck for him to stop and that’s when he backed off with a viscous laugh. The blonde took this opportunity to give him a taste of his medicine. His left fist connected with the black guy's face, spit flying from between his full lips.

Yeah! Yeah! Kick his ass!

It was like a raging storm in that room. Erik walks further into the room, bumping shoulders accidentally with a wild amped up Al Pacino look alike with slicked back hair and what looked to be a waiter’s uniform on. These men came all the way here from their boring jobs to relieve some tension. Erik took his spot in a corner, his commanding yet piercing eyes scanning the room. He sought out Adonis again, finding him shouting into the ring. Erik was standing under one of only several lights in the after-midnight blackness of a basement full of men. In the ring two new guys are fighting. One of the men has his opponent's arms behind his head in a full nelson and rammed his face into the ring floor until his teeth bit down on the inside of his cheek. He kept going, even when the guy yelled stop. Adonis jumped into the ring, yanking the guy away and earning a right hook to his face. Erik hisses before grabbing his own jaw as if he could feel it.

“WHAT ARE THE FUCKING RULES, HUH?!” Adonis head butts him, knocking the guy to the floor before looking down on him with vengeful eyes, “WHEN THEY YELL STOP! YOU FUCKING STOP! Get up,” Adonis throws up his fists, “I said get the fuck up!”

Yeah Adonis! Teach him a lesson!

Body glistening from sweat and muscles perfectly sculpted as if they were carved out of limestone, Adonis beats this man down with just his fists, no special combo move like he’s some wrestler. The guy had enough, throwing his hands up in surrender. Adonis smiles with his blood stained teeth. There’s grunting and noise at fight club like at the gym, but fight club isn’t about looking good. There’s hysterical shouting in tongues like at church, except this isn’t a holy sanctuary like your grandmother would drag you to every Sunday morning to praise and worship. Erik briefly wondered who is responsible for mopping up the blood and sweat from the ring floor after all of this is over. Just standing there watching has his adrenaline spiked. Adonis raises his head towards the ceiling before opening his eyes, the low light making the blood on his face glisten.

His chocolate eyes scanned the room and when they landed on Erik he seemed to freeze with shock but then a knowing smile appeared on his face. Erik returned the same smile bobbing his head in greeting. Adonis left the ring and squeezed through the small crowd of men before finally coming face to face with Erik. Erik’s eyes sparked as they quickly swept Adonis’ drenched body. He had to suck in a quick breath to calm the pulse coming from his dick. All this charged up, aggressive energy is what Erik craves every time he fucks a man. That fighting back before surrendering to him when all his fat dick enters them. Adonis looked like the type to fight back, Erik really wanted to see that for himself. He hoped it would be sooner rather than later.

“Looks like underground street fights are a new favorite of mines,” Erik chuckled.

The corners of Adonis’ eyes crinkled as he smiled, “Didn’t think you would really show up.”

“I’m not all bark and no bite, bruh. When I say I’m gonna be somewhere, I make it happen. Anyway, I ain’t never seen shit like this so I wasn’t about to pass that up,” Erik’s lashes fluttered and his tongue glided across his bottom lip, his gold slugs twinkling in the low light like diamonds. Adonis’ brows knitted and his eyes fell to Erik’s lips. He caught himself staring and backed away, scratching the tip of his nose and taking a deep breath, his pectorals dancing one at a time. Erik’s eyes flickered with mischief and he crossed his arms over his chest.

“I broke the code inviting you here, you know that?” Adonis looks around, “I’m surprised nobody called you out to fight them. When that happens, you have to fight. That’s the rules.”

“I don’t abide by rules easily,” Erik’s eyes are ablaze but his voice is like melted honey, “And clearly neither do you. I do my own thing. Is there some contract you have to sign to be involved in this shit?”

“First thirty names on the list get in, if you get in, you set up your fight right away, if you want to fight. If not, there are guys that do so maybe you should stay home.” Adonis points to his left brow, “A couple of stitches fixed this, some of these guys leave here with injuries so bad they need a bed in the hospital...It ain’t for everybody.”

“But yet here they are getting their asses handed to em’,” Erik shakes his head, “Looks like you need a drink.”

“I do, I was actually headed to the bar around the corner after this,” Adonis lifted a single brow as his eyes peered into Erik’s, “You’re welcome to join me if you want...I can tell you more about the fight club...looks like you’re interested in joining.”

“Maybe,” Erik surveyed Adonis’ face, “We could get to know each other a little? You know, I feel like you’re a cool dude, wouldn’t mind kickin’ it over drinks.”

“I don’t see why not,” Adonis gives Erik a quizzical look before backing away, “Meet me at The Spare Room around the corner from here.”

Erik chuckles as he watches Adonis back away, stroking the length of his beard while he takes in the vibe of Adonis’ body language, “Aight, I’ll be waiting for you at the bar.”

_____________________________________________________________

“I ordered for you if that’s cool? Whiskey.”

Adonis is sporting a black and grey Nike zip-up hoodie with matching track pants and black AirMax on his feet. He settles next to Erik at the bar before drumming his fingers nervously on the polished wood of the bar countertop. The bartender serves them two glass tumblers filled with whiskey and a black cocktail straw. Erik removes his straw and drinks straight from the rim of his glass. Adonis stirs the ice in his glass around before taking a hefty sip over the rim as well.

“What are you going to tell your job tomorrow about that purple bruise under your eye and that bloody nose? You tripped and hit your face against a brick wall?” Erik cracks a smile.

“I’m off tomorrow,” Adonis touches the bruise under his eye, wincing a bit, “That punch was brutal.”

“I felt that shit myself. Damn, he got your ass good.”

“And I got his ass right back,” Adonis proclaimed.

Erik finishes his drink before calling on the bartender for more.

“After a fight I usually get some pussy to calm me down but good pussy is hard to come by these days,” Adonis stretches his back, “I ain’t been in good pussy in a minute…”

Erik’s jaw clenched at the way Adonis said pussy. He glanced over at Adonis, watching him drink from his glass.

“Shoot Andrea a text, maybe she’ll stop by and give you that pussy you’ve been craving,” Erik motions for

Adonis to pick up his phone, “The night is still young, ain’t too late to get in that puss...ain’t never too late.”

Adonis arched a single brow at Erik, “...You fuck her?”

“She yours?” Erik twirled his glass while studying his drink.

“Nah, she’s not...but did you hit?”

Erik bites his bottom lip, “Once, around the time I first hired her. She got it.”

“I know, I been it before,” Adonis shakes his head, “You fuck all the women on your staff?”

“Yeah, if they want this fat dick.”

Adonis stirred in his seat, “Another round, homie.”

The bartender fills his glass, the liquid sloshing around the only sound between them until the bartender walks away.

“You mad I dipped into Drea?” Erik asks casually.

“Can’t be mad at that. She’s not mine...remember?”

“I got this feeling that if she was yours...you would use this bar top to crack my head open,” Erik flashes Adonis a dimpled smile, “That’s if you can though.”

“You talk like you would want that,” Adonis squinted his eyes.

“I like aggression,” Erik says with a hushed tone. Adonis looked away, pondering Erik’s words. He couldn’t explain it but the way he said that felt as if he were flirting with him. Adonis pulls his phone out of his pocket at that exact moment to find Andrea’s number. He shoots her a quick you up text before returning to his drink.

“You from around here,” Adonis asked to clear the growing tension. It only worked a little.

“South Central. You?”

“Crenshaw up until the age of twelve, in and out of Juvie until my dad's wife found me…”

“Your mom wasn’t around?” Erik asked.

“She died when I was ten. Never knew my dad until his wife took me in...from there I moved to Tarzana to live in this mansion. My whole life changed. Found out who my pops was too. Apollo Creed.”

“Shit...you serious?” Erik’s eyebrows disappeared behind his dreads, “Bro...that’s WILD...why didn’t you follow in your father's footsteps?”

“I didn’t want to be known as Apollo Creed’s son and expected to be the next Creed star. I wanted to do my own thing, you know? That pro boxer shit didn’t stroke my curiosity. All the fame, all the attention. Nah, underground street fighting is my thing.”

“I’m sure your old man would be proud either way though, you’re a hot head just like him.”

Adonis smirks, “That’s what I’ve been told.”

“I know mine would be proud of me...lost him to the streets back in 92’ when the riots were going on. He was an activist like my momma. He protected me from getting shot on my tricycle. It humbled me...Still got my momma. She moved back to New Orleans two years ago.”

“Those riots were crazy. I’m sorry about your father...shit is tough.”

Erik sighs, “It is, but it just reminds me of how lucky I am to have him as a father. Made me the man I am today.”

“Yeah...I got nothing but love for my dad even though I never met him. Took me a while to get here though, it wasn’t a walk in the park. Got siblings I didn’t connect with in the beginning but now we’re tight. Mary Anne...that’s my step-mom’s name, she didn’t have to raise me, could have left me in the system.”

“What was your real mom’s name?”

“Vivica. She was an aspiring model. My dad met her at some Hollywood party. They slept around for a while but then Mary Anne found out so he ended things. My mom got pregnant, kept the pregnancy a secret until she passed from a brain aneurysm. By then my pops was already gone. Mary Anne found out and raised me.”

“Man,” Erik dragged his hand down his face, “This whole conversation turned heavy so quick. Let’s fill up these glasses, we need more liquor.”

“I second that.”

The bartender gladly refilled their glasses. For a little while longer, Erik and Adonis talked, learning more about each other. They argued about their favorite Anime, the best clubs in LA, and other random shit that had them laughing. They had only met about six days ago and they talked like old friends catching up. Adonis asks for a bottle of water since he has to drive. The bartender brings him his bottle at the precise moment that his phone buzzes. Picking up his phone, Adonis unlocks it to find a text with an image attached from Andrea. Opening the text, Adonis’ eyes became stormy with lust and his bottom lip poked out with need.

“Goddamn,” He muttered. Andrea always knew how to get him worked up. She’s on the floor naked with her legs spread wide in front of her floor mirror, peanut skin glistening from whatever body oil she used and that phat, creamy pussy with all her glistening pink spread open and freshly waxed for him to come play with. He remembers how sweet she tastes. Adonis’ tongue rolled around his teeth before forcing his eyes away, locking the phone and placing it within his pocket. He was about to be all up in that pussy.

“Andrea?” Erik says with a sly smirk.

“Yeah...she really miss me,” Adonis retrieves his wallet from his pocket, “I can cover the drinks—“

“It’s already on my tab, bruh. Don’t worry about it. Go ahead and handle your business.”

“You ain’t have to do that, Erik,” Adonis stands from his stool.”

“Think of it as a victory drink for the champion of underground street fighting,” Erik held up his glass to Adonis before knocking back the rest of the contents.

“I hope that’s your last drink, your eyes are so fucking low.”

“It is, I gotta get home, I’m pretty tired,” Erik tells the bartender to close his tab before standing from his seat. He dabs Adonis, bringing him in for a brief bro hug, pulling away so that his cologne wouldn’t have his dick brushing up against his. He didn’t need that to happen so soon.

“I’ll holla at you, Erik,” Adonis turns to leave the bar.

Erik watches him exit before short, heated breaths escaped his mouth. Erik signs his receipt before leaving himself. While walking to the car, Erik pulls his phone from his hoodie pocket, scrolling through his messages, and finding the person he was looking for.

Erik: Still on for tomorrow night with you and hubby?

Jodie: Absolutely💕 we’ll see you tomorrow night! Can’t wait 😘

______________________________________________________________

Andrea has an apartment at the Madison Toluca in North Hollywood, CA. It’s a three bedroom, two bathroom apartment with a black, red, and white color scheme. Adonis arrived shortly after 12:30 AM and knocked on her door. Her All black Yorkipoo—-a mixed breed of a Yorkshire terrier and a poodle, named Cookie was barking at the door when he knocked. Andrea could be heard yelling at Cookie before opening her door. Andrea beamed at Adonis with her big round eyes bewitching and her smile wide and pretty. She was wearing a teal blue Nike sports bra with a pair of black high crotch panties and bare feet. Her platinum blonde pixie cut is wet and slicked back from her shower and her peanut skin still glowed from the oil on her body.

“I didn’t get a response from you so I didn’t think you would show up,” Andrea stepped to the side to allow Adonis entry, “What made you text me tonight to see if I was up?”

“You know how I get after a fight.”

Adonis closed the space between them and grabbed the back of Andrea’s neck, tilting her head back enough to have her back bending before his thick tongue slithered up her neck and to her lips for a kiss. Adonis always itched for sex after a fight. His dick on swole and his hands unexcused Adonis cuffed Andrea’s ass, damn near pulling her from the ground. They continued to kiss, suck, and lick all over each other’s mouth to savor the taste.

“Damn, got my dick heavy right now, girl,” Adonis squeezes Andrea’s ass, “come on, I want that pretty pussy.”

“Donnie,” Andrea moaned, voice as pure and sweet as if from heaven, “I miss the way you used to fuck me.”

“Uh-huh?” Adonis lifts Andrea off her feet, wrapping her legs around him, “How I used to fuck you?”

“So good baby,” Andrea thumbed Adonis’ pouty bottom lip before peppering light kisses along them, “I miss your lips on my pussy too.”

“I can’t wait to taste it again, is she still nice and creamy?”

“Always, daddy,” Andrea’s body shook with anticipation in his arms, “Damn...I’m shaking.”

“It’s because you need this just as much as I do.”

“I miss your big dick stuffing me,” Andrea dragged her kisses down Adonis’ neck.

“You miss the way daddy used to give it to you?”

“Ooh, yes—“

“I’ma tear you up, Drea.”

Adonis brought Andrea to her bedroom, flopping down with her straddling his lap. Andrea giggles like she always does while Adonis kisses along her neck and tongues her cleavage. Andrea’s breath is coming out shallow and fast. Adonis grabbed her face, making her look at him.

“Breathe,” Adonis pecked her nose, “This dick ain’t going nowhere,” Adonis smirked, “It’s all for you, girl.”

“This my dick?” Andrea leans back so that she could grab for Adonis’ crotch, “It’s so goddamn thick goddamn baby.”

“I’m tryna make you cream all over it.”

Adonis was in an intense tongue-lock with Andrea while she stroked him through his track pants. She broke the kiss with a trail of spit before lifting from Adonis’ lap and dropping to her knees. A constant hiss escaped her mouth as she fumbled with his track pants. Discovering his waistband, Andrea pulls his pants and briefs down and around his ankles. That fat, long, swinging dick almost hit her in the face. Andrea grabs it before putting it right in her mouth where it belongs. While Andrea Gluck-Glucked Adonis removed his hoodie and the black T-shirt beneath it.

“I just wanna fuck your face and eat your pussy until you can’t take it anymore,” Adonis tilted his head back, “Drea, fuck.”

Adonis curses under his breath when Andrea gave his heavy balls some attention before bringing her lips back to that fat tip. Adonis dragged his fingers through her wet, short platinum blonde strands before palming the back of her neck and forcing more dick into her mouth. The loud slurping was something Adonis missed heavily. His hips were practically off of the bed now, lip between his teeth and eyebrows knitted together.

“I miss this fucking mouth,” Adonis fucked Andrea’s mouth, “Shit, Drea, you still got it girl, this mouth is still a beast.”

Andrea smirked before stroking his spit covered dick while sucking the tip. She really missed his dick from the way she was eating it up. Adonis wasn’t about to stop her, he simply widened his legs and laid back on his elbows.

“You finna have a nigga bust,” Adonis’ abdomen flexed, “I needed this so fucking bad, make me bust, girl.”

The eye contact she was giving him had Adonis balls so full with his tasty cum.

“Just loving on me,” He says before chewing on his bottom lip, “Mmhmmm,” his eyes closed and his brows pressed together tightly.

Andrea planted her hands on the bed and started bobbing her head up and down his dick while moving her head in a circular motion.

“Slow down...yes, yes, like that,” Adonis’ lips parted.

He could literally feel the corners of the inside of Andrea’s mouth and her tight pouty lips nice and steady on his dick. She manipulated that muscular organ in her mouth to flick back and forth on the base of his dick and his balls each time she went down.

“Love on my dick, babygirl, Drea I’m about to bust, you ready?” Adonis’ eyes squeezed shut and he completely fell back against the bed, “good girl slurp all that shit up oh my fucking God,” Adonis exploded in Andrea’s mouth damn near making her choke.

“Get up here,” He says, picking Andrea up and bringing her on the bed. Andrea was on her knees, shaking her slim thick booty in his face, her pussy wide with anticipation. Her cream made a mess of her pussy and it was begging to be licked up. Adonis smacks each ass cheek before giving both of them a nice, appreciative kiss. His lips tickled and they felt so moist against Andrea’s skin. She widened her thighs and arched her back more, practically pushing her pussy into Adonis’ face for him.

“You shoving this beautiful pussy in my face?”

Andrea nods her head with a bite of her lip. Adonis turns around, laying his head between Andrea’s thighs before wrapping one arm around her waist with the other hand occupied with jerking his fat pole. Andrea sat on his face fully before grinding Adonis’ lips. He leans forward to place his lips on her pussy, serving her tongue with long trails of spit. The wiggle of his wet tongue had her lifting up on her hands, thighs shaking. Adonis takes both of his thumbs, peeling her open.

His damn tongue.

“Ooh, yes, Donnie.”

Her entire body shivered.

Adonis’ tongue was dripping with spit and warm against her inner folds. He was in the middle of spelling out his name with the tip of his tongue all up and down her slit. With the D Andrea’s body shivered. With the O she started shuddering in breaths of gasping completion. With the two N’s Andrea clawed the bed. The letter I made a shape over her clit at the right angle. After the E He sucked her pussy into his mouth.

“When you lick me you never miss a spot,” She said with a voice like the harmony of angles. Adonis lapped at her pussy some more in response to her words, “Donnie, please don’t stop, baby...I’m gonna cum, Donnie keep doing that to me.”

Adonis gave her sloppy suction kisses down to her entrance and back up to her clit, keeping her lips apart so he could really get inside. He repeated and repeated, slurping and sucking and licking and kissing. He went faster and faster and she bucked her hips into his mouth, cries getting louder and louder.

“Mmmm, yes, do it like that,” Andrea said with a sensual voice.

“How bad do you want to cum?” Adonis said before he slurped on her clit and her labia at the same time, moaning himself feeling his precum wet his fingers.

“Really bad daddy...I wanna cum so fucking bad from your dirty mouth...make me scream.”

“Fuck. You may be a sweetheart but you a freak for sure.”

Adonis concentrates on tonguing and sucking all the spots that have Andrea’s hips bucking and her pussy smothering him.

“Daddy...guess what?” Andrea’s eyes watered and heat crept up her body.

“Uh-huh, I got that pussy cumming?” Adonis’ words are muffled with the way his lips trailed all over Andrea’s pussy.

With that Andrea’s body froze as her orgasm washed over her. Remembering how good Adonis ate her pussy wasn’t enough for her. Now she was experiencing it again while sitting on his face. He was going for round two from what it felt like. He kept saying over and over how much he needed her beautiful phat pussy and how he was going to dick her down just like that with her back arched. Andrea was ready to crawl off of him when her second orgasm hit her. She squealed so loud her throat went raw. Satisfied, Adonis resurfaced, his lips and freshly shaved chin glistening from her juicy folds.

“Come taste how sweet you are.”

Andrea turns, wrapping her arms around Adonis’ shoulders before licking his lips. She hummed with satisfaction while pulling him down on top of her body.

“Pussy is gushy baby,” Adonis held all his body weight up on one hand while the other played with Andrea’s folds, “That pussy just needs me in it...I could tell from how your eyes lit up when you saw me… miss the way I bust this tight kitty open...I wanna stick my dick so deep in it.”

Adonis leans down on his elbow to kiss Andrea again while he rubbed her clit. His dick is like a swinging pendulum between his legs right now, desperate and hard for Andrea’s pussy. Adonis has enough of teasing Andrea with how fast his heart beats and how painfully hard he is. Grabbing his dick, mixing the wetness on his fingers from her pussy on his pre-cum laden dick, Adonis lined up with Andrea’s pussy before thrusting in slowly, widening her thighs at the same time. Adonis groaned when he was fully inside, making sure to watch her face so that he could see all of her expressions.

“Ahhh, yes, that’s it.”

Adonis’ muscular body was mesmerizing from that angle. He began to roll his hips, working all that girth and length in and out of Andrea. Adonis felt Andrea’s pussy squeeze his dick and it only made him go harder. Adonis pulls Andrea’s sports bra off, her perky breasts with dark brown nipples reminding him of Hershey kisses blessing his eyes. Adonis sucked on each titty while he strokes her pussy. The double sensation has Andrea creamy and the macaroni and cheese sound of her pussy grew louder and louder between them.

“You taking this dick just like you used to,” Adonis pushes her thighs back, “Fuck all that moaning call me daddy while I’m in it.”

“Daddy,” Andrea whispered.

“Look at it Drea,” Adonis whispered back.

Andrea’s eyes traveled down the length of Adonis’ magnificent body to his long, thick dick spreading her open. She couldn’t put into words how full she felt.

“Pretty, ain’t it?” Adonis whispered, “This how Erik fucked this pussy?”

Andrea’s eyes flicked up to Adonis’ face quickly. She went red with embarrassment, ragged gasps leaving her mouth.

“What? Answer the question,” Adonis pushed his dick all the way in. Andrea could feel it tickle her navel.

“Yessssssss,” Andrea answered with an uneven breath.

“He fuck this pussy in your bed, Drea?” Adonis’ hips were smacking into the back of her thighs, “What he do, girl?”

“He-he fu-fucked me in my b-bed,” Andrea stuttered. Adonis heard himself grunt at her response. Had he ever gotten off on another man fucking the same chick as him? No. Probably wouldn’t have cared in the past but for some reason, knowing that Erik hit Drea too has him harder than he was seconds ago.

“You call him daddy?”

“Yes!!! Donnie, baby, it’s so much dick,” Andrea’s face frowned with ecstasy.

“And this pussy is good so you’re getting all this dick, baby,” Adonis reaches up to grab onto Andrea’s headboard and she knows what that means. Andrea held onto his waist with a death grip to prepare herself. Adonis started descending his dick all at once in Andrea’s pussy. No pause, no warning, just nothing but a fat dick with all its length sinking into her drenched pussy fluently. It felt like she wasn’t in control of her body anymore.

“Donnie, please please please,” Her mouth opened, no words escaping.

“Did he call you his nasty little girl?” Adonis says with a voice so gruff and guttural. He looked down at his dick working the hell out of Andrea’s pussy. The muscles in his back and arms burned in a good way. He was tearing Andrea up from this angle, “Got me going crazy in this pussy...I needed this pussy.”

“Daddy, daddy I’m gonna squirt,” Andrea’s toes curled. Her body didn’t feel like it belonged to her anymore with the way Adonis was taking her pussy. Andrea trembled while her pussy leaked it’s sweet juices all over his dick.

“Got that pussy cumming?!! You ain’t answer my question...he calls you his nasty little girl?”

“No,” she spoke faintly, “He called me his nasty little bitch.”

Adonis bit down on his lip hard. He pumped her fast a few more times before withdrawing from her tightness, flipping her over and arching her back deep.

“Nasty little bitch? Huh? You like that name?” Adonis sounded harsh, “Keep that ass up Drea, come on baby...I got something for you.”

“DADDY!!” Andrea wasn’t prepared for that big surprise just now. Adonis has both of his large hands on her waist while he plowed her. She never had this rough amount of treatment from him.

“Daddy, shit,” her shoulders fell forward against the bed. High-pitched moans filled the room and her cheeks smacking and ricocheting off of Adonis’ rock hard hips was stinging her flesh. He was hostile and she loved the change. Sure, Adonis’ much gentle side was always just as good but to see him use her body the way he was it had her squirting and she never experienced squirting while having sex with him. She needed more of this.

“Throw it back, Drea, keep going, baby,” Adonis watched her struggle. It didn’t matter to him, his big dick was nice and wet.

“Nasty little girl, huh?”

“Yes,” Her breath was rattled.

“Come on and make this dick cum.” Adonis grabbed her hips, forcing her back to take all his length. Andrea screamed.

“That’s how you do it, so do it, girl, I’m not showing you again,” Adonis watched her do it right this time with a smirk, “That’s my nasty little girl… take this dick...keep taking this dick.”

“Daddy-“

“Why is this lil’ pussy so fat? Damn,” Adonis felt his nut sack jump, “Look at this beautiful, fat pussy, go ahead and cum Drea, go ahead baby.”

“Yes, daddy, Unh!!!!!”

Andrea slows down, Adonis taking over again, giving it to her and moaning the closer he got to cumming.

“That pretty pussy, fuck, take this nut girl,” Adonis’ words were stuck in his throat the second he let off in her pussy with his thick cum. Thank God she was taking contraceptives because she would be pregnant with all his damn babies with how thick and heavy his load is. Adonis retracted his hips, dick sliding out and his cum dripping from Andrea’s gaping entrance. His dick left a serious imprint with how much wider her slick hole is.

“Damn,” Andrea’s body turned over, “That was some kind of fucking,” she giggles, wiping sweat from her face, “What’s gotten into you, Donnie? baby, you were wild in this pussy tonight.”

“Lack of pussy does that to you,” Adonis stood from the bed, stretching out his back muscles. Andrea tilted her head while staring at his dick.

“Round two?” Andrea begged.

Adonis sighed, “I need some water first.”

“How do you know Erik anyway?”

Adonis shrugged, “Comic Con. It was a random situation. He gave me his business card and that’s how I ended up at his gym.”

Andrea gave Adonis a playful smile, “Are you mad that I fucked him? It was only once, Adonis.”

“Nah, I’m not mad,” Adonis gave Andrea a once-over with his chocolate eyes, “But you liked that I brought it up...that pussy was choking my dick.”

“I did. Maybe we should have a threesome. I would love it if you both fucked me.”

Adonis felt his chest grow tight from her words. His face twisted up with confusion at the feeling. Was that...anticipation? Nervous excitement?

“Maybe, you should get on all fours again so I can come back and get some more of that pussy,” Adonis responded before leaving her room to grab them both some water.

_____________________________________________________________

Parked on a hill on Valley Ridge Ave. in View Park, CA,

Erik pulled out his phone to remind himself of the address. 4515. DVSN- Still Pray for You stopped playing when Erik turned his car off. Air Jordan 3 Retro’s, Khaki cargo pants, white T-shirt, a denim jacket, and layered gold chains was Erik’s outfit for the evening. His dreads are side swept, a few of them falling in his eyes. He slouched slightly in his gait, oozing confidence. The home is an iconic 1930 Spanish Revival with stunning city views, exceptional vintage details, custom modern updates, a large beautiful private yard with a tiered flat grassy area, patio, and an herb garden. Jogging up the steps, Erik knocked on the green door, stepping back before swatting away a moth that lingered near the porch light.

The door unlocked, Jodie standing before Erik with a glass of red wine in her hand and a long charcoal grey T-shirt dress with a high slit, coffee brown eyes fringed with false lashes and copper skin looking soft and silky. Her lush lips are glossy and her blue-black hair is in a sleek low bun. Erik’s eyes traveled from her toes that are painted a fuchsia pink up her shapely legs, over her poked out hip and up to her heart-shaped face. Sweet notes of apple and apricot wafted from her skin the closer Erik got to her. He leaned down to kiss her glossy lips delicately, his tongue tasting the gloss. Jodie’s oval-shaped pink ombré nail skimmed Erik’s jawline with fascination.

“Hi,” Jodie said with a pleasant voice.

“Hey,” Erik whispered back, the suave way he said it causing Jodie to nibble on her lip.

“Do you want some wine?” Jodie offered.

“I’ll take some wine,” Erik closes Jodie’s front door, “Where is the party?”

“For now, in the living room.”

Jodie pointed towards the area in question before walking away with a sway of her extremely thick hips towards the kitchen. Erik found the living room, Jodie’s husband, Vance, seated on the couch, smoking some weed, denim cut-off shorts on, an olive green linen short sleeve button-down shirt with a bandanna print open and revealing his athletic body. The deep brown complexion of his skin looked satiny beneath the living room lights. His chiseled face with sharp cheekbones made him look like a male model and Erik especially loved the nose ring on his broad nose. His full lips smirked at him before taking yet another puff of weed. That fresh fade with glossy waves and perfectly groomed beard has Erik lusting even more.

Vance spoke with a husky voice, “Erik...glad you came.”

“Me too...let me hit that.”

Vance shared his weed with Erik.

“Training TRX on Wednesday next week?” Vance asked.

“I am. I’m not here to talk about my gym though, you know that,” Erik said, savoring the weed, “I ain’t know you went both ways, Vance.”

Vance cracked a smile, “Yeah, I’m bisexual. Me and Jodie. We’ve been trying to hook up a threesome with a man for a while and then Jodie said she saw you out a few weeks ago at the Avalon with some dude tonguing him down.”

“A date I met on Tinder, fucked him good that night too,” Erik’s head relaxed against the couch, licking his lips to the memory.

“I bet you did,” Vance passed the weed, “He takes it well too?”

“He needed to be trained, but I’m good at that..have them coming back for more in no time.”

“Mm,” Vance’s eyes glossed down to Erik’s crotch where his dick print was visible on his left thigh. Vance shook his head as his breath rushed out. Erik was a big boy.

“You looking for something?” Erik spoke softly, the sensation of the weed sweeping deeper, “it’s right here,” Erik squeezed his dick, the cargo pants molding around the shape of it, “You want this dick?” Erik’s eyes looked at Vance’s big lips and he just knew those juicy lips would feel fucking fantastic sucking on him.

“I do, I want that dick.”

“Put that weed out and come get it, that’s why I’m here right? Get the fuck over here,” Erik takes off his denim jacket, widening his thighs, “That pretty ass mouth you got...I need my dick sucked now…do it slow too.”

Vance’s hand gripped Erik’s dick through his pants. Erik made it jump against his hand. Vance let out a groan.

“Come on, boy, my shit is thick right now.”

Vance went to work on Erik’s pants, pulling them down and around his ankles. He couldn’t wait to satisfy the beautiful massive dick in front of his eyes. Slide that big dick in his hungry mouth and drain his balls. Speaking of balls...they are heavy and soft to the touch. Erik slouched, pulling his T-shirt up to reveal his taut abdomen, defined pectorals, and bulging biceps. His dick was standing up and the veins looked like a work of art on his chocolate pole.

“From the way you’re looking at it I can tell you’ve been wondering just how big this dick is...right, nigga?”

“Yes…”

“Yeah...it’s here for you and your wife...where is wifey at anyway? Jodie!” Erik called for her.

“I’m here—Ooh,” Jodie sauntered over and placed Erik’s wine on the coffee table. She’s in her purple lace bra and panties set. Jodie dropped to her knees next to Vance. She stared at Erik’s dick in a trance.

“Let me feel those soft ass lips, Vance,” Erik slapped Vance on the cheek, startling him, “Yeah, you taking too long, baby boy, all this fat dick in front of you. Show your wife how you suck some nut out of the dick.”

“Damn, Erik,” Jodie’s eyes are love-struck.

Vance gripped Erik’s dick and pumped him nice and steady, making sure to squeeze a little just beneath the tip of his dick so he could watch his pre-cum spill from his slit. Spreading the pre-cum along the sides of Erik’s dick, Vance’s big lips engulfed half of Erik’s dick, bobbing his head while reaching down to gently squeeze his balls. Erik kept his gaze pointed downward, looking from his dick being sucked by Vance and Jodie watching with envious eyes. Jodie has to grab hold of something so she placed her hand over Vance’s erection, his visible erection pressed hard against his denim cut-offs.

“Two big dicks just for me,” Jodie spoke with excitement.

“Don’t worry, ma, you’ll have some of this dick in your mouth too, Fuckkkk...yeah, suck that shit...suck that fat dick...oooh, you really wanted this shit, hungry ass nigga...don’t get too greedy your wife need some of that too.”

“Yes I do,” Jodie has Vance’s jeans and briefs down with his dark chocolate dick in her hand, nice and warm. It’s more so long than girthy. She jerked him while watching Vance slurp up Erik.

“Vance...baby...get that dick,” She whimpered.

Erik will never get over how good Vance’s lips feel. He thrust his hips, forcing more girth and length into Vance’s greedy mouth. Damn, he can deep throat too.

“Look at you deep throating this wood, boy. You miss big black dick in your mouth, yeah? Miss a nice pair of heavy balls too? I got a load waiting just for you...all you gotta do is be a good boy…”

Erik’s eyes went so low that his long lashes made them seem like they are closed. Jodie’s hand twisted Vance’s erection and each time Erik’s dick hit the back of Vance’s throat, his dick would jump in Jodie’s hand. She arched her back and brought her lips to Vance’s dick. Jodie wasted no time slurping along Vance’s dick. One look at Jodie’s ass in the air has Erik reaching down, his thick fingers clawing her lace panties and yanking them from her ass in pieces. That action made her lips tighten around Vance’s dick and Vance moaned.

“How that dick taste Jodie?” Erik asked.

“Delicious,” She said before slurping Vance up some more.

“Got that phat ass in the air...I already know that pussy phat with the way it sits in your leggings at the gym…”

“Mmm,” Vance cast his eyes upwards watching as Erik’s toned abdomen is exposed, reaching up to run his hand along the deep ridges of the cut muscle, slurping along his dick. He worked more of Erik into his mouth until his nose touched his trimmed hairs, feeling his length curve down his throat as he took him all the way.

Jodie was in the middle of gagging on Vance’s dick, her spit staining the carpet the more she tried to swallow him. She reached beneath her, hand finding her creamy pussy before spreading her folds to rub her clit in circles. Erik could hear Jodie’s pussy from his seat on the couch. He groans deep, mouth hanging open from the way Vance was sucking him. He tilts his head to watch Jodie while holding the back of Vance’s head to fuck his throat.

“FUCK!” Erik let out the curse before gripping Vance’s throat, hips jerking from how purposefully tight Vance’s lips are as his mouth slipped off, “Let Jodie have some.”

Jodie’s lips popped off of Vance’s dick. Erik gazed at Vance’s dark brown dick. All that dark chocolate. He’s long as fuck too. Ain’t nothing Erik can’t handle down his throat. Too bad tonight was his night to get all the work. Jodie moaned before gripping Erik’s spit covered dick. Her tongue flicked Erik’s dick before she locked eyes with him, batting her false lashes like she’s innocent with all that fat dick in her mouth.

“Damn, girl, crazy with it,” Erik leaned forward to slap both of Jodie’s cheeks hard, “Got all this hard dick down your pretty little throat...got your Hubby taking off his clothes...you see your wife sucking my dick, Vance? She a dick hungry bitch.”

Vance is completely naked now. He pumped his long dick while leaning over Erik’s lap to hope for Jodie’s lips to slip off so he could take over again. Jodie lets her throat get fucked, gagging only slightly before fighting it back down, eyes turned up to watch the pleasure on Erik’s face as she feels Erik’s dick stretching out her esophagus. Jodie moans around his length, reveling in the taste of Erik on her tongue.

“Jodie,” Vance calls to her while gently squeezing Erik’s balls, “put his dick in my mouth.”

“You want some more of his hard, thick dick? Here,” Jodie feeds Vance Erik’s dick, “Suck it baby…”

“Husband and wife working together...Jodie...let me see that pussy,” Erik showed her how wide his tongue is.

Jodie climbed onto the couch, turning with her ass facing Erik before bending over on her knees. Her pussy lips are pushed between her thick thighs. Two slippery lips that he wanted to kiss.

“Spread your cheeks so I can see all that pink pussy...mmmmm,” Erik hisses, “Pussy creamy as fuck,” Erik licks his fingers before resting them on Jodie’s protruding clit and labia. He loved how smooth and soft she is. It looked like chocolate and from the way she tasted on his fingers it was just as sweet too.

“Come here,” Erik spoke firmly, slapping Jodie’s ass, “lay on your back and spread your thighs so I can finger fuck you.”

“Unh—“

“I wanna feel how tight this little pussy is.”

Vance jerks Erik’s dick before slobbering on the tip of his dick, “It’s tight...she’ll grip you.”

“That’s what I want, right Miss Jodie?”

“Yes, daddy,” Jodie says with a lick of her lips.

“There you go, baby boy, suck that fucking dick up, suck daddy’s dick up,” Erik demanded. He could feel his balls grow tight and he knew what that meant. He didn’t want to cum yet, not until he had his dick in Vance’s ass and Jodie’s pussy.

“Erik,” Jodie called to him with a melodic voice.

Erik watched her bring her knees to her chest, that pussy wide open and her slippery hole winking at him. Erik couldn’t hold back from rubbing Jodie’s clit back and forth before slapping it, causing her to whimper. Erik smoothed his fingers down her pussy before pushing two fingers inside, biting his lip at the way Jodie gasped.

“Tight fucking puss,” Erik strokes with a curl of his fingers, “I’m digging baby?”

“Yess,” She cries.

“I hear that pussy,” Vance says with spit hanging from his mouth.

“Come suck her clit,” Erik commanded. Vance and Erik got down on the floor between Jodie’s thighs. Vance spreads her pussy lips so wide that her labia stretched. Erik was astounded when he saw how much cream spilled from Jodie’s pussy. Vance’s tongue curved at the tip while he teased her big clit.

“Clit big as fuck, Vance stop playing, suck that shit up. Clit nice and phat like that you better suck it.”

When Vance’s lips wrapped around Jodie’s clit she moaned to the ceiling. Vance reached up to pull the cups of her bra down, her big, round breasts spilling over, creating a mouthful. Erik damn near drooled. He sucked one of her nipples into his mouth while his fingers played all in Jodie’s pussy. Vance was slurping loudly on her pussy and it had Erik slapping Vance’s firm ass.

“Yeah, nigga,” Erik says, “Got the whole puss in your mouth, make this bitch cum...say, I’ma make this pretty pussy cum.”

“I’ma make this pretty pussy cum,” Vance says before French kissing Jodie’s clit.

“I’ma make it squirt,” Erik flicked his tongue on Jodie’s nipple before showing some attention to the other. Jodie gripped his dreads when he went back and forth with sucking her nipples. He had her thrusting her chest into his mouth.

“Grip me like that again, go ahead, ima put my face in your pussy next,” Erik spoke roughly.

“Eat my pussy up,” Jodie widened her legs, “There’s plenty...slurp me up daddy.”

“Nasty bitch, I like you,” Erik was face to face with Vance, “Let me see how that clit fit in my mouth.”

Vance chuckles before giving Erik some room to eat on Jodie. He helped him by keeping her pussy lips open. Erik was still working his fingers, practically stirring all in Jodie’s creamy cavern. Erik kisses Jodie’s clit, the pecks slowly turning into full blown French kisses that has him opening his mouth wide to wrap his lips around her.

“Mhm,” Erik’s eyes rolled shut.

“Taste good, yeah?” Vance said while extending his neck to kiss Jodie’s lips, “That’s your pussy on my tongue.”

“Mmm, I taste lovely.”

Erik spits on Jodie’s clit before working his tongue with so much gusto that Jodie and Vance watched with awe.

“Ooooh, He’s stroking my pussy with those thick fingers...oooh, I’ma squirt…Vance, baby, he’s gonna make me squirt, baby,” Jodie grabbed for the back of the couch. She became spasmodic and Vance had to hold her down and kiss her lips to distract her so Erik can keep going. That bitch was leaking all in Erik’s mouth. He sucked her up again before tasting his fingers. Vance leaned over Jodie’s lap, getting some of Jodie’s pussy too.

“Pussy is so goddamn good,” Erik gripped Jodie’s jaw, pressing his lips into hers, “I can’t wait to bust your shit wide open, let’s take this shit to the bed.”

Pulling his lips away, Vance stands with Erik, both of them picking Jodie up. She had her legs wrapped around Erik while Vance stood behind her cupping her titties. Erik bounced Jodie on him like he was fucking her standing. Vance kissed and sucked on her neck at the same time. All three of them took their fun to the bedroom. Jodie grabs some condoms from her dresser, begging to watch Erik fuck Vance first while she rode his face. Vance went to lay on the bed, his knees drawn to his chest. Erik was blessed with the sight of Vance’s tight asshole and heavy balls with his dick resting against his toned abdomen. Jodie climbed on top of Vance’s mouth, turning to give Erik the condom and lube.

Erik spits on Vance’s asshole before sticking his finger inside. With his free hand, Erik jerks Vance’s long dick

To keep him solid so he could have something beautiful and chocolate to look at while he banged his ass. Jodie was currently popping her pussy on Vance’s tongue, legs in a squat so her pussy could be nice and spread for him to suck up. It was a beautiful sight. Erik almost wanted to bust from that alone. Staring at Vance’s body now made him think about Adonis. He tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. Adonis. Nice big lips, sexy rock-hard body, aggressive and competitive, sexy smile, chocolate eyes all intense at one minute then gentle the next, the way he fights…

“Erik I love the way your finger feels in my ass.”

Vance’s words broke him out of his trance.

“Yeah? Ain’t shit compared to this dick, boy,” Erik removes his finger, grabbing up the magnum to place on his dick. Rolling it over his glans all the way down to the root, Erik applies a little bit of lube for some extra slip. Bending his knees, Erik forced Vance’s thighs back before slapping the weight of his dick against his ass, sinking inside of his warm, tight ass.

“Damn boy...damn...ass tight as fuck,” Erik started grinding his hips, “Feel all that thick dick pumping?”

Jodie looked over her sweaty shoulder and saw Erik’s fat condom covered dick thrusting in and out of Vance’s ass. She felt chills all over her flesh and the sexy moans against her pussy and groans from Erik made her cream even more. Jodie can see Erik and Vance’s muscles ripple and flex with their movement. Jodie turned around so that she could 69 with Vance, grabbing his long dick up and going straight at it with a bob of her head. Vance clapped her cheeks before eating both of her holes.

“Fuck, that’s what I’m talking about Jodie, eat that dick up,” Erik pushes her head down further, “There you go, deep throat that shit.”

Vance was working his hips to take all of Erik’s dick, Erik caught that, rolling his hips to meet Vance half-way so that his dick could be all up in his ass.

“Got this nigga working his hips to get all this wood,” Erik bites his lip, “ass is creaming already too.”

“Mmm, I wanna see,” Jodie jerks Vance’s dick while admiring her husband's creamy asshole grip Erik’s dick, “Vance...baby...he got you creamy, mmmm, Vance.

Vance moaned into Jodie’s pussy with each suck.

“That’s it baby, make this pussy cum...oooh I feel you tugging on that clit, make me nut baby,” Jodie’s eyes almost crossed, Oh God...Oh God...fuuuuuuckkkkkkk babyyyyyyyyyyy—“

“Face hella sexy when you bust, girl,” Erik wrapped his arms around Vance’s thighs and started ramming his dick deep, big balls slapping against his ass. Vance’s core tightened and it seemed to shoot straight to his dick because now he’s cumming in Jodie’s hand. Jodie licked as much away as she could but he kept on erupting. It was Erik’s pounding deep in that ass that had him making a big mess.

“Oh shit, Erik, fuck,” Vance stared between Jodie’s thighs at Erik, “Dick is all up my ass——“

“I’m taking this ass?”

“Yes, daddy.”

Jodie could not stop looking at Erik’s hard dick fucking Vance so good. Erik leaned over Vance, his naked chest and those gold chains hanging over Vance’s body. His dreads hung low and he bit down on his lip, working his hips fast and skillful. Jodie needed that dick in her pussy.

“Ima nut again,” Vance’s handsome face crumbled, “Fuck, Erik, ima bust—-“

“Yeah, nigga, I’ma make that dick cum while I beat this ass up good.”

Jodie cupped her pussy and rubbed it up and down to the sight of Vance shooting out yet another thick load. Erik pulled out and rocked back on his heels, watching the way Vance’s ass quivered. There is a creamy puddle beneath his ass. Erik removes the condom, walking to Jodie’s dresser to grab another. Rolling it over his still hard erection, Erik walks up to Jodie picking her up and wrapping her legs around him. Erik sits back on the bed, Jodie over him with his hands cradling her ass.

“It’s time to get in you now...nothing but dick deep in your guts…”

Vance stood up from the bed and jerked his dick watching Jodie grab Erik’s dick herself, squatting over his dick before lowering her hips, that thick dick nothing but a flesh covered pole for her to fuck. Jodie was up on her feet, upper body bending over so she could bounce her hips. Her ass cheeks clapped with each bounce while she fed her pussy some dick. Vance went to lay next to Erik so that he could have a better look at his wife handling Erik’s dick.

“You see that sexy little pussy taking all this dick?” Erik says to Vance before his eyes zeroed in on Vance’s erection, “Dick long as fuck...tear some ass up with this.”

Erik started Jerking Vance’s dick.

“Get that dick, ma, nasty ass bitch...got my dick all in that pussy...I bet that ass looks real juicy bouncing…”

“This big ass dick.”

Jodie’s cream coated the condom.

“Good dick…” She moaned, “mmmmm, some good fucking dick...so thick...Unh, so good.”

“She’s loving that,” Vance says before grunting from Erik’s thumb stroking his tip, “I love that fat dick too.”

“I know you do, baby boy,” Erik gives Vance a sexy smirk.

Erik liked the feel of Vance’s dick in his hand but he couldn’t stop wondering how Adonis’ would feel against his palm. Is it thick with a little bit of curve? Does it have length to it for Erik to deep throat? Is it soft to the touch yet textured from his thick veins? He couldn’t shake it. He let go of Vance’s dick and grabbed Jodie’s ankles, picking his hips off the bed and serving her more dick. He didn’t let up on his strokes, knocking the wind out of her chest and making her shout. Vance took over with jerking his dick while his eyes focused on Erik’s powerful hips.

“KEEP FUCKING ME!”

“Make her cum, Erik...Make that pussy cum,” Vance said.

“Ahhhhhhhhh,” Erik gritted his teeth, “cum on this dick, bitch...get you some of this dick...she about her business look at her,” Erik and Vance watched Jodie work her hips on his dick, “bounce that shit.”

“Hell yeah, I love watching that big dick pound her pussy,” Vance leans over to tongue Erik’s neck. Erik gripped his chin and flicked tongues with Vance. He broke away from him to moan out. His balls contracted rhythmically with his dick and that was a sign that he was ready to pump his fat load all over their faces.

“Get down on your knees, both of y’all, hurry up, fuck, I gotta bust!”

Vance and Jodie are on their knees and Erik stands before them, snatching his condom off before fisting his dick. All of that cum squeezed out from his heavy sack all over Vance and Jodie’s face, mouth, and wiggling tongue.

“Clean this dick up,” Erik spoke with a gruff tone. Both of their tongues battled for a taste. The feeling of two sets of lips on his dick made more cum dribble. Vance took over and sucked him, Erik pulling his dick from his mouth to give Jodie some. He allowed his dick to swing back and forth for them to catch and suck.

“Y’all gon’ have me fucking again,” Erik shook his head, “Damn...y’all love this dick.”

Watching them attack his dick had Erik satisfied but there was still part of him that needed more.

Adonis was going to be trouble...if only he would accept his attraction for Erik so he could really show him how badly he needs him. Erik wasn’t going to wait too long either.

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#Creed 2 #Erik Killmonger #killmonger smut #adonis creed #adonis x OC #killmonger x oc #creedimagine #nahimjustfeelingit writes

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berrynarrybanana · 4 years

Text

on a summer evening

The one where Harry met Bea.

Warnings: Alcohol, fainting, asshole men who knock women over in clubs

Word Count: 13k+

P.S I did not edit

July 13, 2018

Harry’s POV

I pressed my lips to the shot glass, tossing back my fourth tequila shot of the night as Jeffrey slipped his hands over my shoulders, giving them a squeeze. I tilted my head back with a goofy grin, resting my head on his shoulder. Next to me, Gemma sputtered out, slapping her shot glass down on the marble bar top with a sour look on her face. I tried not to laugh at it as Jeffrey spoke.

“One more show to go.” Jeff shook my shoulders gently. “You did it man, you did 89 shows on your very first solo tour and you fucking killed it.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you and the band.” I turned my head, smiling at him. “Thanks for always being there for me, Jeffrey.”

“Thank you for letting me be a part of this amazing journey.” Jeffrey said. “Are you excited to have a little time off after this?

“Is it really time off if I’m going to be in the studio recording another album?” I rolled my eyes before turning back to the private bar. I lifted my hand up, catching the bartender’s attention. “Two more tequila shots, mate? Please and thanks.”

“I am not doing another tequila shot.”

With another eye roll, I looked over at my very unamused sister. She was practically swimming in her jean jacket, her hands tucked into the sleeves. I put the pieces together, realizing it was her boyfriend’s jean jacket that she was wearing over her casual outfit for the evening.

“I’m not trying to get shitfaced tonight, H. I have to pick Michael up from LAX tomorrow and I cannot deal with that place when I’m hungover.”

“These shots are for me.” I clarified, playfully scoffing her. The bartender sat them down in front of me and I slid them in front of my body in playful defense. “Think I’m gonna pay for all your alcohol tonight? You’re running a successful business now, aren’t ya? Think you can afford your own tequila shots, mate.”

“Oi, mate,” She whacked my shoulder with her sleeve, her face screwing up as I laughed. “Fuck off.”

I laughed, reaching down for one of the tequila shots. The glass was pressed to my lips, a little bit of tequila spilling onto them, when my name was called from somewhere behind me.

“Harry!”

My blood ran cold as I realized who it was.

Hannah.

I turned in my seat as Jeffrey muttered a ‘good luck, man’ before walking away.

Gemma let out a low whistle and I shot her a quick look before I turned back. Hannah looked like trouble, her blonde hair tied back and her red dress just a little too perfectly snug. I tried not to stare at her body for too long, my eyes snapping back up to her face after I realized she wasn’t alone.

I stood up from my stool, plastering a fake smile on my lips.

“Hi, stranger.” Hanna dropped her new boyfriend’s hand, tossing her arms around my neck for a quick hug. I gave her a half hearted hug back, glancing at the man hovering behind her with an unamused look on his face. “How are you?”

“Doing good love, thanks.” I tried not to let myself get caught up in the scent of her perfume as it wafted over me. Vanilla and citrus tickled my nose, throwing me back to a memory of us cuddled up in bed, her hair dangling over my face as she kissed me. “Hey, mate. Nice to meet you. M’Harry.”

“Greg.” He stuck his hand out and gave it a firm handshake before glancing back at Hannah. She gave him a bright smile, a silent conversation passing between them. A bitter taste sat on my tongue as I watched them. That used to be me. “Nice to finally meet you, bro. Heard a lot about you.”

She seemed happy.

Something about her love drunk smile and her glowing skin set me off.

Why did she get to be happy?

“Are you guys here for the night?” I cleared my throat, leaning back against the bar as Greg slipped his hand around Hannah’s waist, giving it a squeeze.

I hated this.

If hell was a place on earth, then surely I was perishing in the flames right now as I watched the girl I once loved be touched by another man. Even if I didn’t love her anymore, I didn’t want to see anyone else touching her. Especially not the guy she was fucking around with when she was with me. I cleared my throat, shifting around as Hannah nodded.

“Yeah.” She glanced up at Greg before looking back at me. “We’ll be at the show tomorrow though. Got tickets and everything.”

“You didn’t have to do that, Hannah.” I frowned, my brows furrowing. “Would have let you guys hang out in the barricades with everyone else.”

Even though you broke my heart into a million pieces.

“We wanted the full fan experience.”

That was a nice way of saying she didn’t want people to think we were back together. She wanted my fans, my family, and everyone else in the world to know that whatever we used to have was over now. I pressed my lips together in a tight smile, nodding at her.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” She said, leaning over to give me a halfhearted hug. “Don’t get too wasted, I expect to get my money’s worth from your performance.”

“Yeah, I’ll try.” I let out a forced laugh as they walked away.

“Wow.” Gemma whispered beside me. “Think I’ll go ahead and take that shot now, yeah?”

“Yeah.” I mumbled, watching them walk away. “Take as many as you want.”

This was going to be a long fucking night.

****************************

Bea’s POV

“This is the best birthday ever.” Claire shouted over the music, her eyes glued to Emma Stone as she walked by with a drink in her hand. “That’s the fifth celebrity I’ve seen tonight. I can die a happy woman.”

“You think Emma Stone is a good one,” Jackson, one of our closest friends shouted. “I just saw Katy Fucking Perry.”

“I didn’t know that was her middle name.” I called out, causing Claire to bark out a laugh. “I hate to be the one to do this guys, but I have to break the seal.”

My entire group of friend’s groaned and I finished sipping my watermelon margarita.

“It’s the last bar of the night!” Claire shrugged, glancing at everyone else as if to say ‘fuck off, she’s fine’. “Go on, leave me and Emma alone while you’re havin’ a piss. Fix your lipstick while you’re at it! It’s all smudged up and patchy.”

“Thanks.” I rolled my eyes, finishing up the last of my drink before I sat it down on the high top cocktail table we had been hovering at for the last twenty minutes. “I’ll be right back!”

“Hurry up! Twenty minutes until I’m officially twenty-four” She cheered, a bright smile lighting up her face as she looked behind me.

I wasn’t looking forward to pushing my way through the dance floor to get to the ladies room, but the tequila I had consumed tonight definitely did me a few favors. I was feeling frisky and I wasn’t afraid to tell someone off if I needed to. As I walked, trying my best to avoid elbows and asses being tossed in my direction, I started to think about how happy I truly was tonight.

Every bar that we visited during her birthday trip was amazing. We were drunk out of our minds and enjoying every second of it. The real world was long forgotten, any thoughts of work or real life problems dissolved with tequila and laughter. I made a mental note to pat myself on the back for planning such a perfect surprise for her birthday this year.

When I finally made it in the direction of the bathroom, there was a line out the door. Luckily, it was only four girls standing outside the restroom. I made my way to the end of the line, adjusting my purse before I reached for my phone in the small, cross body bag.

“Your dress is so fucking cute,” At first, I wasn’t sure that anyone would be talking to me of all people, but I was wrong. I looked up, a drunken smile on my lips as I noticed the girl in front of me smiling back. “I wish I would have worn something more like that. It’s so hot in here I think I could pass out. Where did you get it?”

“Target!” I cheered out. “The lady gave me a discount on it! She wanted the same dress so I ran back to get it off the rack for her and she took six dollars off!”

“That’s wicked!” She smiled back at me and I could tell that it was genuine. “I’m Madison!”

“Beatrice!” I shouted back. “Nice to meet you Madison!”

“You too,” She nodded.

After a few more minutes of friendly chatting, Madison disappeared into the restroom without another word. I checked my phone, reassuring myself that I hadn’t missed Claire’s official birthday just yet. With a relieved sigh, I shoved my phone back in my purse as a girl came out of the restroom. It didn’t take me long, my flowy dress perfect for drunk peeing.

When I was done washing my hands, I started touching my lipstick up. There were a few drunk girls in a small group gathered just behind me, laughing loudly. I loved watching drunk girls just as much as I loved being a drunk girl. They were always so nice about everything and I adored that.

As I put the top back on my lipstick, a girl walked up next to me.

I glanced at her a few times before I finally decided to walk out, afraid she would find me creepy for my staring. Something about her face and her style was oddly familiar, but I couldn’t put a name to the face. As I continued walking, my mind focused on the girl, I felt a body collide with mine. I let out a squeak, holding my hands out as my body started falling back.

“Oi, mate! Watch where you’re fucking going next time, yeah?” The voice that was shouting sounded like it was right next to my ears and a pair of arms were tightening around my body as I stumbled back. “Fucking drunk pricks think it’s funny to do stupid shit like knock women over.”

I blinked a few times, unclenching my fists as I tried to get my footing back. I slowly opened my eyes, not realizing that I even closed them as the arms that had been around me slipped away, letting me stand on my own. I was thankful I opted out on high heels and went for a pair of closed toed Chelsea boots instead. They were much easier to wear when I was drunk and they were most definitely the reason I was standing steady right now .

When I finally found my feet flat on the ground again, my head started to spin and my skin flushed cold even though my blood was running hot. I had fainted before in my lifetime and this was always the feeling that I got right beforehand. I reached up to press my fingers to my forehead as I swayed, the arms that were around me seconds before slipping back over me again as I reached out, gripping the shoulder of my knight in shining armor.

“Easy there, love.” The voice that spoke before was definitely British and the owner was definitely talking against my ear. I felt a hand slip over my forearm, guiding my arms to rest over their shoulders as their cool breath tickled my skin. “Hey, can you hear me? Talk to me, lovely. Gotta hear your voice.”

“I-” I choked out the word before dropping my head forward. I guess my forehead landed on their chest, the scent of their cologne oddly soothing. “It’s hot in here.”

“You need to get some air?” The voice asked and I nodded. “Alright, let’s get you some air. Come on, love.”

I felt one of his arms slip around my waist, pulling me close to his side as I opened my eyes again. The room was still spinning, but I didn’t feel like I was going to fall anymore.

The arm around me and the reassuring feeling of my savior's side pressed against my own made me think that maybe I was going to be just fine.

*****************************************

Harry’s POV

It all happened in slow motion before me.

I was leaning against a cocktail table, my phone glued to my face as I waited for Gemma to come out of the crowded bathroom. There was a bathroom upstairs for patrons of the private bar, but we had come down to find Jeffrey. He left at some point during Hannah and I’s awkward exchange to find a few of our friends that were coming to join the party upstairs.

When he didn’t return after about twenty minutes, we decided to go looking for him. While Gemma was in the bathroom, I heard a group of guys at the table just a few feet away talking a bunch of shit about their sex lives. With each little lie or arrogant comment made, I rolled my eyes. They sounded like proper fuckboys and I felt sorry for any girl that decided to go home with them tonight.

As I was scrolling through my private instagram, my thumb hovering over an old picture of Hannah and I curled up on the beach behind my Malibu home, I heard a squeal over the loud music in front of me. I snapped my head up, my eyes immediately landing on a girl who was nearly toppling over to the ground and one of the guys from the table I mentioned earlier standing in front of her with wide eyes, watching her fall.

I wasted no time dropping my phone and moving forward.

I slipped my arms under hers, her back colliding with my chest as I crouched down to support her.

“Oi, mate! Watch where you’re fucking going next time, yeah?” I snapped out, moving my body so that I could try and steady the girl on her feet. She was still tense, her hands balled up in fists as if she were still waiting for her body to hit the ground. “Fucking drunk pricks think it’s funny to do stupid shit like knock women over?”

I’m sure someone had caught that on their camera phones and surely they would spread it on every social media platform. The guy in front of me just shrugged it off before turning back to his friends. If that was his tactic to pick up girls, then it was a shit one and I hoped that someday a girl punched him in the face.

Sure, it was a little aggressive, but so was knocking innocent girls over and watching them fall.

As I steadied the girl on her feet, my hands slipping over her soft biceps, Gemma appeared.

“Grab my phone and put it in my pocket.” I said. “I left it on the table behind me.”

“Got it.” She shouted. “What happened.”

I shook my head at her.

I didn’t have time to explain it all right now.

I turned back to the girl as she lifted a hand, pressing it to her forehead. All the blood in her face had drained and even though I had put her back on her feet, she was swaying from side to side with her eyes squeezed shut. She was cute, that was for sure.

I slipped my hands up her arms, grabbing her wrists before dropping them over her shoulders. I rested my hands on her sides, gripping them tightly so that she wouldn’t fall over. Gemma slipped my phone in my front pocket before leaning up to shout in my ear.

“Gonna keep looking for Jeff.” She told me. “Be careful.”

“You be careful.” I said. “Call me if you need me.”

“I will.”

The girl stumbled a little and I tightened my grip.

“Easy there, love.” My lips brushed over the shell of her ear as I spoke. The floral scent of her hair tickled my nose and I tried not to dwell on the comforting smell. “Can you hear me? Talk to me, lovely. Gotta hear your voice.”

“I-” She choked out the word, her body swaying forward and her forehead pressing against my pectoral muscle as her arms tightened around my neck. “It’s hot in here.”

“You need to get some air?” I called out, flexing my fingers against the plush skin of her sides.

She was so soft under my touch and the boyish part of my mind wondered what it would feel like to grip her sides just like this while I was fucking into her from behind. I cleared my throat, pushing those thoughts far, far into the back of my mind. Now was not the time or place to pop a stiffy over a stranger I just met in a nightclub.

“Alright, let’s get you some air. Come on, love.”

I let my right arm slip over her waist, pulling her in close to my side as her arms dropped in front of us. Her head lolled onto my shoulder and for a second I was worried that she had passed out, but she quickly pulled it back up with a soft shake. Her right hand fell down against my own on her waist and I reached over with my left hand to grab hers. I prayed that I could get her down the hall and into the private elevator without anyone else catching me.

The last thing I needed was for this to be on the internet alongside a video of me shouting at a stranger in a bar. I pulled her along, past the table of jackasses and a few more groups of friends. I just had to get her past the bathroom and to the elevator in one piece before we made it upstairs to fresh air and a softer scene and quieter people.

Occasionally on our walk I would glance over at her just to make sure she was still conscious and I wasn’t dragging her along beside me. I noticed that she had finally opened her eyes, but I couldn’t see what color they actually were from the angle I was standing at. We were nearly to the elevator when she stopped dead in her tracks, snapping her head up to look up at me with wide eyes.

My eyes trailed over her face and down her body, searching for any injuries I might have missed.

“What’s wrong?” I quickly, tightening my grip on her waist. “You alright?”

“My best friend.” She blinked up at me, her strawberry red lips set in a deep frown and the skin between her thick brows wrinkled. My heart skipped a beat at just how cute she looked like this. I quickly shook the thought away. “It’s her birthday and I was supposed to get back to our table.”

“We’ll give her a shout when we get in the elevator.” I said. “S’alright. I’m sure she’ll understand.”

“I don’t have my purse.” She said, looking down at her body and then up at me. “I- I must have lost it. Fuck, it’s probably on the floor and my phone-”

When her eyes met mine, she looked a little nervous as if I would be mad at her for losing her purse after nearly being knocked to the ground.

I gave her a gentle smile.

“I’ll go get it.”

The faster I ran back for the purse, the faster I could get her upstairs and myself out of the public eye. I glanced around, my eyes finding an empty spot against the hallway wall where no other patrons of the club were crowded. It would be easier to leave her there than to take her back with me. I walked us over and slipped my arm from around her waist, settling it on her upper arm instead to guide her back to the wall.

“M’gonna leave you right here and go get your purse, okay?” I ducked down, looking into her eyes.

They were blue.

Just a standard blue, no other colors mixed into her irises. They were pretty, shaded by her dark lashes and complemented by the orange eyeshadow and highlighter on her cheekbones.

“It’s black.” She said. “It’s got a little gold buckle on the front. It’s Kate Spade.”

“Alright.” I nodded, my lips ticking up at the corners. She had a pretty voice, but she was a bit louder than she needed to be. “Gonna leave my phone with you. If anyone tries to mess with you or you just feel unsteady, dial 911.”

I couldn’t leave her my unlocked phone with all of my personal information in it. That would be a terrible idea. She was cute, but I still didn’t know her. Besides, there was no way for her to even call me if she had my phone. She had a better chance calling the cops for help than me anyways.

“You don’t have to.” She said quickly. “I’ll be fine.”

“What if you nearly faint again?” I asked, my brows quirking up.

She snapped her mouth shut as I slipped my hands from her sides.

I nodded quickly, pursing my lips out at her before I reached into my back pocket, slipping my phone out. I leaned back down, steadying myself with a hand on her bicep as I spoke into her ear.

“I’ll be back in a tick.” I said softly, giving the fleshy part of her arm a soft squeeze.

“Okay.”

With that, I left her there in the back corner of the hallway before jetting off.

As my feet carried me on, two questions kept running through my mind.

What was her name and why did I feel so attracted to a girl I didn’t even know?

*********************************

Bea’s POV

I was holding Harry Styles’s phone in my hand.

The moment I looked into his eyes, I knew who he was.

I had been a huge fan of One Direction since the beginning of their career and even though Harry wasn’t my favorite member, I still loved him dearly. I had been following his solo career from Dunkirk to his debut album. Now I was standing against a wall, waiting for him to return with my purse. Part of me wanted to say something to him about my knowledge of his existence.

The other part of me knew better than to do that. It would be embarrassing and I wouldn’t blame him if he left me downstairs on my own afterwards. As much as I hated to admit it, I still felt dizzy and I actually needed some fresh air. I was surprised that he hadn’t left me to my own devices already, if I was being honest with myself. I was just a stranger in a club and he was Harry Styles.

The situation didn’t make sense in my hazy brain.

I gripped his phone tight in my hands, afraid that it might fall out of my clutches and land in the wrong set of hands. I was the only one in the dimly lit hallway, but my irrational fear was there to stay. Surely he would be mad if I lost it. My knees were still wobbly and I was still lightheaded but I was admittedly feeling much better than before.

I dropped my head against the wall behind me. I was more upset and worried about missing Claire’s official birthday than being pushed over by a drunken asshole. I had left her all alone on her birthday while Harry Styles was carting me off to a rooftop to get some air. Before I could dwell on it more, I felt a warm hand land on my bicep, the touch breaking me from my thoughts.

When I snapped my head up, I saw Harry standing there.

“Are you okay?” He ducked down, his breath washing over my skin and sending chills down my spine. “Still feeling dizzy?

“Yeah.” I nodded.

“Alright, let’s get you upstairs.” He pulled back, giving me a soft smile before slipping his arm back over my waist.

I wasn’t sure that I needed his arm for support anymore, but I didn’t know how to politely tell him that, so I let it be. His cologne was strong and the smell was almost calming to my senses. All of the panic that I had before was washed away with one whiff of vanilla and tobacco. When we finally made it to the elevator, he leaned over to press the button and my eyes caught a glimpse at his tattoos and his rings.

I had forgotten all about his tattoos, my eyes stuck on the giant anchor inked on his wrist. I wanted to reach over and touch it, but I knew that would probably make me seem insane. Instead, I tightened my grip around his phone. When the elevator doors opened, he glanced down at me with that smile again. The dimple carved into his cheek and his cologne were making me feel dizzy again.

I turned forward, taking a deep breath with my eyes closed.

“Do you feel like you’re going to faint again?” Harry’s arm tightened around my waist and I jumped a little, gripping his phone so tight that I’m sure my knuckles were white. “Can I do anything?”

“I’m okay, just a little shaky.” I squeaked out, taking a deep breath as the elevator started to move.

Out of instinct, one of my hands flew out as a way to steady myself, searching for something to hold onto.

“I’ve got yeh.” He slipped his fingers through mine and I let out a groan as he chuckled beside me.

“S’not funny.” I mumbled, slowly my eyes before looking up at him. “I’m like bambi on ice skates.”

“You’re drunk and your equilibrium is thrown off.” He said softly. “It’s okay, I promise we’re almost to the top.”

“Thank god for that.”

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

Harry’s POV

Maybe you should just let her go, Harry. I’m sure she can stand on her own.

I rolled my eyes, looking up at the ceiling as I ignored the voice in my head.

I wasn’t ready to let her go yet.

“I still need to call your friend,” I said softly. She gave a quick nod, releasing my hand to fish around in her bag for her phone. After a few seconds, she had her phone unlocked and on a contact name. I tightened my arm around her waist, as I held the phone to my ear. “Thanks, love.”

“Where are you!” The voice on the other end of the line was loud, but the music behind the voice was much louder. “Are you okay? You left for the bathroom forever ago and it does not take that long to reapply lipstick. Did someone kidnap you?”

“She’s not been kidnapped.” I tried not to laugh, fearing that the girl and her friend would think me crazy for finding her panic comical. “My name is Harry. Someone knocked your friend over earlier and she looked a little unsteady. M’taking her up to the rooftop now so she can get some fresh air and cool down for a minute.”

“There’s a rooftop?” Her friend asked. “Where is she now?”

“We’re in the elevator.” I said. “If you want to meet my sister down by the bathroom, she’ll come up with you. It’s an exclusive section of the club and you can’t just...walk into it. Gotta have a code. I’ll have my sister wait for you. Her name is Gemma.”

“You’re Harry Styles.” Her friend stated casually as we shuffled into the elevator. I reached out to hit the rooftop button before slipping my arm back behind her. “Interesting.”

“Is that okay?” I asked, glancing down at Bea as the elevator doors closed.

“Yeah, I don’t… you’re cool, I guess.” She said. “I’m not exactly alone though. There are like...six of us.”

“Oh.” I said softly. “Is everyone else going to be okay with the whole….Harry Styles thing?”

“Yeah.” She laughed. “No offense, but Beatrice and I are the only two people who know that you’re an amazing and wonderfully talented being. They won’t even bat an eye.”

“Good.” I said. “And if...I don’t know, Beyonce were to walk by?”

“We’ve already seen her.” Claire said casually. “No problem.”

“I’ll see you soon then.” I laughed. “What’s your name, by the way?”

“Claire.” She said. “My name is Claire.”

“Goodbye Claire.” I said. “And happy birthday, by the way.”

“Thanks.”

The phone beeped as she ended the call and I extended my hand out, offering the girl her phone. She took it back with a quiet thank you before stuffing it in her purse. She cleared her throat, trying to stand up a little straighter. There was a lot more light in the elevator and I could see her much better. I studied the freckles on her face, her skin glowing around her cheekbones and her forehead.

She was really pretty.

There was something about the soft features of her face and her plush cheeks that made my lips twist up into a smile. She looked up at me, her thick brows pulling together in the middle just a little bit as she gave me a curious smile.

“What?” She asked.

“Nothing.” I shook my head, straightening out my smile as I reached up to scratch at my jaw quickly. She had caught me staring. “Um, what’s your name?”

“Beatrice.” She said softly, her lips dropping down into a frown. “You can call me Bea if you want to though.”

“Beatrice. That’s a very pretty name.” I said, turning my eyes back to the elevator doors as they opened. “Like I told your friend, the rooftop bar is a little exclusive. Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, glancing at me with a secretive smirk on her lips. “Haven’t freaked out yet, have I?”

“Ah, you do know who I am then.” I tightened my arm around her waist and she laughed, giving me a quick nod. “Claire might have mentioned that.”

“Unfortunately, I know way too much about you.” She laughed, her cheeks turning pink as we started to walk. “I was a huge One Direction fan, like a...a massive, massive One Direction fan.”

I let out a laugh, a genuine laugh that pulled from my belly, sending an echo through the air after.

“Are you teasing me?” I asked, my voice slipping up an octave. “S’not ‘Treating People With Kindness’ is it?”

“Who said you were my favorite solo artist?” She asked, cocking a brow up. “‘Treat People with Kindness’ what does that even mean?”

I sputtered, my eyes growing wide as I shook my head. She was really teasing me and it was so fucking adorable. I stared down at her in shock as she tried not to laugh at her own joke.

“You’re mean.” I said, a teasing lilt to my own voice. “I’m taking you back.”

She laughed softly as we continued to walk around the wooden boards of the private bar. There was a sofa nestled in the corner of the bar I had reserved for myself and my friends. There were already bottles of water and a few different beverages tucked away in an ice bucket. I guess my friends would be making new friends tonight.

“Niall was my favorite for a while, but you stole my heart eventually.” She confessed as we walked past the first bar and turned a corner.

I looked down at her, blinking in disbelief.

She seemed confused at first, but it hit her seconds later.

“I did not mean...I wasn’t teasing that time, I swear.” She held a hand up in defense, trying her best not to laugh. She rolled her lips in, looking at me with wide eyes as I watched her face. I had already said it before, but fuck she was cute. “I completely forgot about that song, to be honest. I’ll take the jokes down a notch.”

“You’re rather cute, you know that?” I whispered, narrowing my eyes playfully. She blinked up at me, her cheeks now a beautiful shade of pink. “Like...right now, even through the dark, I can tell that you don’t know what makes you beautiful.”

Immediately, her shoulders started to shake as she let out a laugh. She reached up to rest her hang over her mouth as a few little giggles slipped from her lips. I laughed with her, but I mainly kept my eyes on her. The way her eyes crinkled up at the corner, the tears that formed on her water line as she laughed a little harder, the way she held her hand over her mouth like she was hiding something.

Maybe she was insecure about her smile?

She had one of those silent laughs, but every few seconds she would take a breath and she would let out a little squeak. We had to stop walking for a second and she turned a little, hiding her face in my shoulder. I don’t think she was trying to be flirty, it looked more like a habit than anything, like she was hiding her face from me. When she was done giggling at me, she reached up to wipe at the corner of her eye as if a tear had fallen out.

“That was….wow.” She rolled her lips in again, shaking her head at me. “You got me there, Styles.”

We started walking again and I remembered that I had to text Gemma and let her know to meet Beatrice’s friends downstairs. I cursed under my breath, reaching into my pocket to grab my phone. Beatrice didn’t say anything, but a few seconds later, I felt her arm slip around my back.

It was probably more comfortable for her than letting her arm hang between us, occasionally bumping into my thigh with each step we took together.

I welcomed it, returning her smile with one of my own. If she were my girlfriend, I would lean down to press a few kisses to her strawberry red lips right about now. Shooing away the thought, I lifted my phone to my ear.

“I can’t find Jeff.” She sounded frustrated. “I don’t know where he is.”

“Forget Jeff, he can handle himself.” I said, my brows pulling together. I didn’t want her getting caught up in a crowd on her own. “Just head back upstairs. There’s a girl named Claire downstairs waiting for you-”

“I’m not walking one of your fuck buddies upstairs.”

“She’s not my fuck buddy, dickhead.” I snapped at her, looking up to the sky in disbelief. “She’s Beatrice’s friend.”

“Oi, don’t call me dickhead you knob.” Gemma snapped back. “Who is Beatrice?”

“The girl, Gemma. The one we were just with downstairs.” I rolled my eyes, looking back down at Bea as she tried not to laugh at me. “Just bring her and their other friends up with you and be nice. It’s her birthday.”

“Oh, joy.” Gemma said. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye,” I said. “Love you.”

“Love you too, knobhead.”

I hung up the phone, rolling my eyes at my sister. I looked up, noticing that we had made it to the back corner of the bar where my section was reserved. I tightened my arm around Beatrice for a second, catching her attention. She had been too busy looking at the decor and the fairy lights around us. When we finally walked up to Frank, the bouncer assigned to my section, I gave him a curt nod.

He lifted the rope and I guided Beatrice into the little area with a sectional, a loveseat, and a large table with snacks and drinks in the middle of it all. I let go of her, walking over to the bucket of ice with drinks stuffed in it. I grabbed a bottle of water, turning back to hand it to her, but she looked like she had gone into shock again. I turned behind me, realizing what she was staring at. With a soft smile, I walked over to her, careful not to block her view of the city below.

“Holy fuck.” She whispered.

The lights were hitting her eyes and I swore it looked like there was a twinkle in the ocean of blue in her eyes. I watched as a soft breeze rustled up her red hair. A few strands stuck to her lips, catching in her lipstick, but she quickly reached up to brush them away. This view was nothing to me. It was one I had seen a million times. I had seen the view of this city from practically every single angle. I didn’t need to turn around to watch the lights of the city with childlike wonder. There was a new view that I wanted to commit to memory. The view of this beautiful stranger standing in front of me.

“This is so beautiful, Harry.” That was the first time I heard her say my name but it nearly knocked my feet out from under me this time. There was nothing muddling or overpowering her voice now.

“It really is, isn’t it.” I said softly. “It’s breathtaking.”

When she looked back at me, I think she realized I wasn’t talking about the city below us.

___________________________________

Bea’s POV

Harry Styles was charming.

He also couldn’t keep his eyes off of me and it was kind of shocking to me. How could someone so angelic and beautiful be fascinated by someone as ordinary as me. Every time I caught him looking at me, it took my breath away. Part of me was worried that he was only doing it to pull me into some trap. Maybe he was just looking to take someone home tonight. When my friends made it upstairs, especially my beautiful Claire, I was afraid he’d stop staring at me altogether.

If he wanted to take someone home, she was the girl for it.

She was drop dead gorgeous and they would look so good together. When we finally sat down on the soft outdoor sectional, Harry made sure that I was able to see the view of the city behind him. He cocked his left leg up on the sofa and dropped his arm over the back. Occasionally his fingertips would brush over the skin of my bicep and every time it sent chills up my spine.

“Where are you from?” Harry asked me softly. “You don’t sound like Los Angeles?”

“What do I sound like?” I cocked a brow up, intrigued by his statement.

“Charleston.” He said slowly, his own brows pinching together.

“I have family down there.” She nodded. “My dad was born and raised right outside of Charleston, but he moved to Virginia before I was born. That’s where I’m from.”

“Virginia.” He nodded. “Is that where you live now?”

“No, actually.” I cleared my throat, turning my body towards his. “Claire and I live right outside of Georgetown in Washington, D.C.”

“Claire is your roommate?” He asked.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “We met a few years ago. I actually used to be her boss.”

“Really?” Harry laughed softly. “What do you do?”

“Well, I was a manager at a hotel when I met Claire.” I started. “But I work in Sales now. I do a lot of the event planning and I deal with the catering team a lot.”

“Do you like it?” He asked softly.

That was a new question.

Most people just assumed that I loved my job. I really didn’t though. I had fallen into the hospitality industry as a teenager and after receiving two promotions before I turned twenty, I felt like I owed it to the company to stay with them. I hated my job, but I never let anyone know that. I was grateful to even have the opportunity to have a career most people didn’t have until their mid thirties. Harry’s eyes were trained on my face as I tried to think of the right words to say.

“No.” That would do, I suppose. “I actually really hate it. But I’ve been with the company since I was eighteen. They’ve given me a lot of great opportunities. Most people take ten years to get where I’m at in a hospitality career.”

“What would you like to do?” He asked.

“I don’t know.” I gave him a soft smile. “I have a question for you now, Mr. Styles.”

“Ask away.” He giggled, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. He was so pretty and I didn’t know how I was even keeping it together.

“Why am I up here with you?” I asked softly, slipping my hands to my lap so that I could pick at the skin around my nails. It was a bad habit, but I was nervous and I couldn’t help it. “You could have given me my water and sent me back by now. Hell, you didn’t even have to bring me upstairs if we’re going there.”

Before Harry could answer my question, I heard my voice behind me.

“Beatrice Noelle!”

I snapped my head around to see Claire walking past the bouncer in front of Harry’s private section, our other friends following behind casually. I felt his fingers brush over my shoulder again and I glanced back at him.

He was trying to not smile, but I could tell he was amused by Claire.

“We aren’t finished with this conversation.” Harry whispered in my ear, pulling back with a soft smile.

He winked at me, shocking me further for a second before I remembered that everyone was right behind us. I stood up, shuffling in Claire’s direction with a dramatic pout on my lips.

“I’m so sorry, Claire.” I slipped my arms around her and she squeezed me tight. Claire was the same height as Harry and with my heeled boots on, my nose just barely brushed over her shoulder. “I’ve completely ruined your birthday! Some guy on the dance floor-”

“Harry told me.” She pulled back, placing her hands on my face just as Harry had done earlier. I let her inspect me with concerned eyes. “You’re alright though? No bumps and bruises on this lovely face of yours?”

“I’m fine.” I rolled my eyes, reaching up to swipe her hands off my face as Harry chuckled behind me. I shot him a look over my shoulder and he held his hands up in front of his chest as a defense. I turned back to Claire, giving her a soft smile. “We can head back down now if you want to Claire? I’m feeling better now.”

“You don’t have to go anywhere.” Harry said from behind me, rising to his feet as if he would have to physically stop me from leaving. I rolled my lips in, glancing behind me. I felt his hand play at the fabric of my dress before I felt the warmth of his hand on my side. “Please feel free to stay up here. There’s a nice view, it’s a lot less crowded, and there’s free alcohol.”

“We’ll stay.” Claire said before holding her hand out past me. “Claire Nelson, nice to meet you.”

“You as well,” Harry shook her hand before turning back to our other friends. “And everyone else?”

“I’m Matt.” He stuck his hand out, his shoulders squared up. “Thanks for taking care of Bambi. She’s definitely the clumsy one out of the group.”

“That’s the truth.” Chloe laughed behind Matt, her hand resting on his lower back as she waited for Harry to finish shaking the tall blonde hair. “I’m Chloe, Matt’s girlfriend.”

“Lovely to meet you both.” Harry smiled, turning to Tara next. “And you are?”

“I’m Tara,” She said casually, quickly shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“You as well.” He said. “And last but certainly not least-”

“Jackson.” The most boisterous and positive of us all. “I just loved you in dunkirk. You did such a good job, I felt terrified when you were going off on that poor french boy.”

“Thank you so much,” Harry chuckled, his finger tightening on my waist as he settled back in place next to me. “I’m so glad you enjoyed it.”

“Thank you for inviting us up here,” Chloe said. “It’s stunning.”

“It’s not a problem at all.” We made eye contact and he shot me a wink before looking back at everyone. “Have a seat, make yourself comfortable.”

“Thank you.” Claire plopped down next to my previous spot as Harry’s sister walked past the table and towards the love seat.

She dropped down to it, pulling out her phone immediately as Harry and I settled back in our original seating. I felt her eyes practically burning a hole in the side of my face as I looked up at Harry. His eyes were trained on me again and I felt my face heating up under his fond gaze.

“Gemma, let’s go grab a few drinks at the bar?” Harry suggested, glancing at his sister over his shoulder before looking back at me. He rested his palm on my knee and I shivered at the feeling of his cold rings on my skin. “What would you like?”

“I’m fine.” I said softly. “You don’t have-”

“Someone has been indulging in watermelon margaritas all night.” Claire spoke up from beside me, poking my side as I glared at her.

“And what would you like, Claire?” Harry chuckled looking back at my friend.

“Same thing.” She smiled. “Thank you, Harry.”

“Harry, you really don’t have to-” I started, but he interrupted me.

“It’s fine, Bea.” He gave me a soft chuckle. “Think I can swing a few drinks for the birthday girl and her friends without draining my bank account. Gemma and I will be back in a second. Just make yourselves at home.”

“I’m sure they will.” Gemma grumbled under her breath.

My whole body went cold as I looked over at his sister.

She was glaring at me and even though she shared the same eye color as her brother, her eyes were a cold contrast to the warm green of Harry’s.

“Gemma.” Harry snapped her name, standing up from his spot on the couch. “Knock it off.”

“Whatever.” She stood up, practically flying out of the private section without another word.

Harry looked down at me, his own cheeks flushing pink for once.

“I’m sorry.” He said softly. “She’s a bit overprotective sometimes.”

“I don’t blame her.” I mumbled, offering him a reassuring smile. I don’t know what came over me, but I reached up to squeeze his hand softly. “Don’t worry about it. I would be the same if my brother was a super famous rockstar.”

I winked at Harry and he let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he squeezed my hand back.

“I’ll be right back.” He said. “Don’t miss me while I’m gone.”

“We’ll try not to.” Claire laughed, watching Harry as he slipped his hand from mine and walked away.

When he was out of earshot, Claire turned to me with wide eyes.

“What the fuck is happening?” She said under her breath. “That is Harry Styles! Are we...is this a fanfiction that we’re living in because it feels like it!”

“I really don’t know.” I whispered, leaning closer to her. “He just...he caught me before I fell and then he went back to find my purse and we were joking with each other in the elevator and he won’t stop looking at me Claire. I mean, proper puppy dog gazes. He’s so sweet.”

“He seems quite...smitten.” She smiled. “You do too. What was that thing with your hands a minute ago. You just reached up like it was yours to grab.”

“I know!” I leaned back into the sofa, rubbing my hands over my face. “It just kind of happened, like I didn’t even realize what I was doing until it happened.”

“I know one thing, that’s for sure.” She laughed, slipping her hand up to pinch at my cheek. “You two look damn cute together and I’m not letting you leave without his number. Unless you plan on leaving with him, that would be okay too.”

“Claire.”

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

Harry’s POV

“What is your deal?” I let out a frustrated sigh as Gemma and I walked towards the bar. “She hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“You don’t even know her, Harry.” Gemma snapped, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Neither do you!” I rolled my eyes, leaning against the bar. The bartender was helping someone else down at the other end of the bar, so I sat there patiently as my sister pouted.

“You just snapped at me!” She narrowed her eyes at me.

“You were being mean.” I sighed, holding my hands up. “You practically called her a groupie in front of her friends”

“Isn’t she?” Gemma snorted.

I snapped my head to look at her with a harsh glare.

“No.” I shook my head. “She’s actually very sweet. For the first time in a very long time, Gemma, I was just Harry. I was having fun with a very sweet girl and I wasn’t stressing about albums or tours or ex girlfriends who want to do me in. I was just having fun.”

Her face fell, but before she could speak, the bartender walked up to me.

“Hey, mate.” I gave him a smile. “Do you have any kind of cake here? My friend just told me it’s her birthday and I didn’t come prepared.”

“We have a triple berry trifle, it’s angel food cake with berries and cream.” The bartender said. “I can have a few slices sent over to your table if you’d like.”

“That would be perfect, we would need four slices.” I nodded. “Also, can you bring out champagne with the cake?”

“Yeah, no problem.” He nodded. “You want your usual as well?”

“Yes,” I nodded before listing off the drinks everyone had asked for.

“Absolutely.” He nodded. “Would you like me to delay the cake so you guys have time to finish these drinks up.”

“That would be perfect, thank you so much.” I nodded as he scooped some ice up.

“I’m sorry I didn’t give her a chance.” Gemma said from beside me. “Her friend was telling me that she’s a model and I just got a little skeptical about it all. You really don’t need another model in your life.”

“I really don’t. But Beatrice is really kind, Gem.” I laughed, tossing my arm around her shoulder before kissing the side of her head dramatically, making a lot of noise. She pushed her hand against my side, rolling her eyes. “I can take care of myself though Gem. I really like her so far and I just…just give her a chance.”

“Fine.” She grumbled. “Go take the pretty girl her drink. I’ll keep the friends distracted while you two flirt.”

“Thanks, G.” I chuckled. “I love you.”

“Love you too, knobhead.”

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

Bea’s POV

Harry had the bar send over cake for Claire and Mitch’s joint birthday.

When they set the cake down, I practically melted into a puddle of mush right then and there. He ducked down to whisper in my ear as the staff sang happy birthday to my best friend. He told me that everyone deserved cake on their birthday. When the champagne came over, Claire was so excited that she practically jumped out of her chair and launched at Harry for a hug. Right after cake, Jeffrey (I learned that he was Harry’s tour manager and close friend. He was the reason Harry went downstairs in the first place), Sarah (his drummer), and Mitch(his guitar player and close friend) joined us. They had been stuck downstairs, mingling with some old friends in the bar while we were upstairs.

As everyone made friendly conversation, my eyes started to grow heavy. It was nearing the end of the night and I wasn’t nearly drunk enough to be energetic. Instead, the alcohol that was in my system and the sound of Harry’s voice were lulling me to sleep. I tried my best to sit up straight, but at some point I started leaning against the back of the couch. It didn’t take long for Harry to slip his arm from the back of the couch to rest on my shoulders. After that, I was moving closer and closer to him with every breath I took.

“I think it might be time to call it.” Gemma let out a loud yawn from the loveseat, her legs tucked under her and her head lolled to the side. “I have to be at the airport so early tomorrow.”

“Yeah, it is really late.” Claire glanced over at me, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “You’re practically asleep, aren’t you Bea? Someone’s gonna have to carry you out.”

“Pretty much.” I mumbled, reaching up to rub at my eyes with the knuckles of my fingers. “Been up for nearly 25 hours.”

“Before we part ways, I would like to have a toast.” Claire said softly. “Is that alright?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “Go ahead birthday girl.”

Claire reached for her half empty glass of champagne, lifting it in the air. Harry shifted closer to me, catching my body as I started to fall closer to him. I was cuddled into the crook of his arm now, our thighs pressed together and my head just below his chin, resting on his shoulder. I felt him turn his head and I could have sworn that he sniffed at the hair on my head before giving me a soft kiss.

It made my heart swell in my chest and when I looked up at him with a soft smile, he just returned it with tired eyes. Something came over me and I tilted my head, pressing a kiss to the stubbly skin of his jaw and then to the dimple carved in his cheek. I giggled when I pulled back, basking in the fact that I had shocked him with my action.

I turned back to Claire quickly, hoping that no one caught me kissing his cheek.

“I would like to raise a toast to my very best friend.” She said. “This morning, I was stuck at home wallowing about my birthday and getting old. Beatrice has been listening to me cry about it for months. She knew I wasn’t excited to turn twenty-eight, so she decided to plan this wonderful birthday trip to Los Angeles so that I could have fun on my birthday. This toast is for her, the most selfless and kind hearted woman that I know. Thank you, Beatrice, for giving me the best birthday of my life.”

“Aww, Claire Bear.” I leaned over, wrapping my arms around her. “I’m glad you’re having fun.”

“To Bea.” She said, clinking the tip of her glass to mine.

I leaned back towards Harry and he dropped his glass down, tipping the top towards mine as everyone continued to toast to me. They went back to their conversation in no time, leaving Harry and I on our own as we stared into each other’s eyes.

“To you.” He whispered, giving me a gentle smile. His dimple popped out again when he smiled and I had to resist the urge to lean forward and kiss it again. I looked down to his lips, my mind trailing off to the thought of them pressing into mine. “What?”

“I just…” I stopped myself. “Nothing.”

His brows crinkled and he gave me a confused smile.

I didn’t want this night to ever end.

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

Harry’s POV

Beatrice kept looking at my lips and I knew she wanted to kiss me.

I wanted to kiss her too. I wanted to kiss for so long that when I was done, she was breathless. I wanted her to pull away with swollen red lips, no lipstick, and flushed cheeks. There were a lot of other things I wanted to do to her, but I had to wipe those thoughts from my mind. This wasn’t a girl I was trying to take to my hotel room for a quick fuck.

This was a girl I really liked, a girl I was about to ask out on a proper date.

I could only hope that she was in town for a few more days. I knew that she brought Claire to L.A for her birthday, but I didn’t know when she was leaving. A small pang of hurt rang through my chest as I realized how my previous girlfriend’s must have felt when I showed up just to turn around and leave again. I never wanted Bea to leave my side.

It was a bit early to think like that, but it was how I felt about her.

“What?” I asked her as she looked down at my lips again. She licked over her bottom lip before tucking the fleshy part between her teeth.

“I just…” She trailed off, her eyes slipping back up to mine. “Nothing.”

“When do you leave?” I whispered as our friends talked around us.

“Tuesday.” It was Friday...technically Saturday right now. There was still time. “We fly out in the afternoon.”

“What are you doing tomorrow?” I asked.

“I’m not sure.” She said. “It’s up to Claire.”

That was a good thing.

If there was one thing I knew about Claire and Beatrice, it was that they would do anything to make the other one happy. That was clear in the way they talked to each other and about each other. I glanced over at Claire who was having a deep conversation with my sister and then back down to Beatrice. For a brief second, I saw black ink on the inside of her left arm. I reached down, using my thumb to turn her arm softly. She looked down with me, my eyes trailed over the insect tattooed on her forearm. I heard her clear her throat as she shifted her arm so that I could see it better.

How had I not noticed that earlier?

“It’s a honeybee.” She whispered softly. “Most people think it’s a fly because I didn’t put any color in, but it’s not.”

“I really like it.” I whispered. “It kind of reminds me of one of my own tattoos. Got a giant butterfly on my stomach.”

I plucked at my shirt around where my tattoo was.

“I’d like to see it someday.” She said softly.

I knew she meant it innocently, but I couldn’t help but imagine her settled on my thighs, her hands pressed into the tattoo as she moved her hips. I looked up at her, catching her eyes as she realized the double meaning to her statement.

She opened her mouth, ready to backtrack, but I stopped her.

“I wanted to know what you’re doing tomorrow because it’s my last show.” I said quickly. “I want you to come.”

“Really?” She sounded genuinely surprised by my offer and it took me by surprise.

Didn’t she know that I liked her?

I could hardly keep my hands off of her.

“Yeah,” I said. “Everyone can tag along if they’re interested.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” I nodded. “You can stand down in the barricades with Gemma and her boyfriend. He flies in tomorrow...well technically today. We can do dinner before the show and everything.”

“Like a date?” She asked, her eyes searching my face.

“I haven’t been on a proper date in a really long time.” I confessed. “I mainly just hang out with people and see where things go. I...it can be a date, but I don’t think it should be.”

Her face fell and I closed my eyes, realizing that I was avoiding her question.

“I don’t think it’s fair to call it a date because I’ll be on stage most of the night, not with you.” I said softly. “That wouldn’t be fair to you and very narcissistic of me.”

“Well…” She pursed her lips, a playful hint in her tone. “Tomorrow night we can just hang out. But...I think you deserve a proper date.”

“Is that so?” I let out a nervous giggle, my chest feeling lighter as she nodded. “Are you going to show me what a proper date is?”

“I would like to.” She said. “Will you let me?”

I realized then that I would do anything she wanted me to do if it meant that I was able to spend more time with her.

I was totally fucked.

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

Bea’s POV

Harry had to say goodbye to me on the rooftop.

He seemed upset that he couldn't see me downstairs to the uber he ordered for me, but I understood. I wasn’t too keen on being crowded and harassed by paparazzi at this point in the night. My makeup was nearly gone, I was still tipsy, and I was extremely tired. Everyone else filtered out before us, Mitch and Sarah glued together behind Jeffrey and Claire and Gemma chatting away.

The plan was to ride the elevator down together and separate before we got to the door. Harry and I were still lollygagging by the couch, not ready to go back to the real world waiting for us downstairs. For the first time in my life, I wanted to go home with someone. I wanted to curl up next to Harry and listen to him talk for hours and hours.

“I don’t want to say goodbye.” Harry brushed his fingers over the warm skin of my cheek before tucking a strand of hair behind my ears. “I feel like we didn’t have enough time.”

“We have tomorrow.”

My hands were resting on his abdomen and I wondered if his butterfly tattoo was underneath my fingers. I looked up at him with a sad smile, letting him know that I felt the same way.

“You asked me earlier why I didn’t send you back downstairs,” He started, licking over his bottom lip as his eyes shifted away from mine for a second.

I could see that he was trying to find the right words to say and that sent a rush of butterflies through my stomach. I wondered for a moment if that’s what his tattoo meant. His eyes found mine again and I gave him a soft smile, reassuring him that I wanted to hear what he had to say.

“It’s okay.” I whispered, gripping the soft cotton of his shirt. “You can say it.”

“You’re very sweet and kind. It’s been a long time since someone has made me feel this way. Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way. I feel so...giddy. I feel more like myself than I have in a long time. When I was talking to you, I didn’t feel like Harry Styles. I felt like Harry, a really nervous guy in front of a beautiful girl.” He confessed, his hands cradling my neck just as they did in the bar earlier. My eyes fell to his lips again and I couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Are you going to kiss me now?” I whispered. “Because I would really, really like it if you did.”

“Fuck yes.” Harry let out a soft chuckle before leaning forward to press his lips to mine.

I smiled into the kiss, slipping my hand up his chest and towards the back of his neck as he tilted my head up gently with his thumbs, deepening the kiss. Our friends cheered behind us, whooping and whistling as Harry tilted me back just a little. It took a few minutes for us to pull away, his teeth tugging at my bottom lip as I pulled back with my eyes still closed.

He let out a whine, pecking my lips a few more times before ducking his head down, his temple pressed to my cheek we both laughed, shoulders shaking gently. My cheeks were sore from the amount of smiling I had been doing and there was an ache in my core from laughing too hard.

“That was nice.” I massaged the nape of his neck softly with the tips of my fingers. “We have to go.”

“I can’t leave you after you kissed me like that.” He lifted his head, narrowing his eyes at me playfully as he dropped his hands from my neck to my sides. “Don’t go.”

“I have to. Besides, you need to rest.” I whispered as his fingers dug into my skin, holding me tighter. He pouted at me and my heart squeezed in my chest. Why was he so cute? “We’ll see each other in a few hours, remember?”

“S’too long.” His words were slurred now and his accent was thicker. I could tell how tired he was by the way he pulled me towards him. “But I guess you’re right.”

“Listen, I will separate you two myself if I have to.” Gemma’s voice was a lot closer now. Harry retaliated by slinking his arms around me, pulling me into a hug as if to say, ‘Go ahead and try to pull us apart’ to his sister. I laughed, letting my hands settle on his shoulders.

“Harry, you have to let go.” I whispered in his ear. “I promise I’m all yours tomorrow.”

“Must the women in my life always torture me?” He groaned, shifting his head so that he could press a kiss to my shoulder. “I guess I’ll let go.”

“Good boy, Harry.” Gemma cooed playfully and I could hear Claire laughing. “Let’s go, come on now.”

“M’not a bloody dog.” Harry pulled away from me, but his hand dropped down to mine. He laced our fingers together as he glared over at his sister. He glanced back down at me, his lips still settled in a pout. “See how she treats me? You’re gonna let her go home with me? I might not make it until tomorrow.”

I tossed my head back, laughing at his adorable and pouty face.

“Oh piss off you sap,” Gemma snorted. “Let’s get a move on. I better not turn around to see you two snogging again.”

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

Harry’s POV

I tugged Bea along with me, walking towards the elevator behind the rest of our friends.

When we stopped just in front of the elevator, waiting for the doors to open, I heard my name from behind me. My eyes grew wide as Bea looked up at me and then behind us. She quickly turned back to me and gave me a soft smile. For a second, she tried to slip her hand from mine, but I tightened my grip, turning us both around as I smiled at Hannah. She was pressed into Greg’s side, her arm wrapped around his lower back and her eyes glassy.

“Hi again.” I said. “D’ya have a fun night?”

“We did.” She nodded, looking up at Greg. “Someone caught me by surprise.”

It was then that I saw it.

She stuck her hand out, my eyes automatically landing on the teardrop shaped diamond on her left ring finger. My eyes practically bugged out of my head and my throat went dry. She was going to marry Greg. The girl that I once loved, the girl that I still thought about quite often on a lonely night when I was in bed, was going to get married to someone that wasn’t me. I almost fell into a spiral, tongue tied and unsure of what to say to her, but I was quickly brought back to reality when I felt Bea squeeze my fingers, her soft voice filing in the uncomfortable silence that lingered.

“That’s a gorgeous ring, oh my.” She said softly, glancing at me from the corner of her eyes as if to say, ‘I’ve got this, don’t worry’. “And he proposed on such a beautiful night as well, how sweet of him. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

I looked away from Bea and back to Hannah to see that she was looking at me, her face scrunched up in confusion. She shot a quick glance at Bea and then back at me, waiting for an explanation or an introduction. She wasn’t going to get one, not right now.

“Congrats,” I smiled, holding a hand out towards Greg. “You’re a lucky man.”

“Thanks, Styles.” Greg shook my hand and when I pulled away, the elevator bell dinged.

We all piled into the elevator. Bea and I tucked away in the back corner as the doors to the closed shut in front of us. Gemma looked over her shoulder at me a few times, but I shook my head at her, silently asking her not to say anything.

“Are you okay?” Bea asked, reaching up with her free hand to touch my arm.

“Yeah.” I turned my head towards Bea, flashing her a soft smile as I squeezed her fingers. “Just fine.”

For the first time in a long time, I meant it.

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

Bea’s POV

Harry left me at the bottom of the elevator, slipping down the hallway with Gemma and Jeff before everyone else. Saying goodbye wasn’t the best part, but the soft kiss that came before he walked away was sickeningly sweet. Gemma seemed to warm up to us at some point in the early hours of the morning and she left me with a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. Claire and Harry were talking in hushed tones while I bid Gemma goodbye, but when I looked up at them to try and catch what they were talking about, he just shot me a quick wink.

I gave him a playfully pout and he gave me one of his girlish giggles with crinkled eyes and smile lines. The more I thought about it, the more it hurt. Tomorrow night - or tonight, rather - I would have to share that smile with hundreds of people that adored him the same, if not more than I did.

Watching Harry walk away sent a pang of hurt and frustration through my heart, but Claire was quick to swoop in, standing where Harry had been all night.

“You’ll see him again in a few hours, don’t pout like a child.” She slipped her arm through mine, hooking it around so that we were linked together. “Let’s go have some greasy late night pizza and watch a movie before we crash, sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.”

We barely made it through Notting Hill.

Claire passed out on my shoulder about ten minutes into the movie while Tara and Jackson passed out on the floor below us. Matt and Chloe had gone straight to bed when we got back to the airbnb. I, however, couldn’t find it in me to close my eyes and go to sleep. There were so many thoughts racing through my head that it was spinning as I tried to focus on Hugh Grant. When was the last time I got so swept up in a guy that I completely abandoned all of my fears?

There wasn’t one moment with Harry where I felt out of place or scared to act on my emotions.

Normally I was hesitant and observant, overthinking every little thing until I made an official decision about someone. I had never been so...affectionate with someone that I had just met. Part of me was worried by my actions and by Harry’s as well. Was this a normal thing for him? Did he do this regularly? Is that why Gemma didn’t want us on the rooftop? I had started chewing my nails at some point, my nerves taking over any good feelings I previously had.

Maybe I just needed to tread carefully tomorrow.

After covering Claire up with the throw blanket on the back of the couch, propping her head up on the throw pillow, I tiptoed over Tara and Jackson on the floor before finding my way to my room.

Carefully, I shut the door behind me, rolling my lips in and wincing when the floor creaked below me. I was so tired and I didn’t want to wake Claire up. She would want to talk more about Harry and my feelings and I just was far too tired to talk anymore. I slipped into bed, settling my phone somewhere on the empty side as I snuggled in. My brain was stuck on a particularly lewd memory of the evening.

I had been trying to steer my brain away from the dirty thoughts I was having, but it was no use.

Harry’s cold rings contrasting with my hot skin was something I couldn’t shake. I could still feel his large palm on my leg, resting there like that’s where it belonged. The song ‘Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off’ wasn’t a completely inaccurate account of me and tequila. The burning liquid did something to me that I couldn’t quite explain. I could taste the tequila on Harry’s lips during our kiss, the bitter liquid masking the sweet taste of his kiss. He convinced me to toss back a few shots, and now here I was. I flopped onto my back with heavy eyes and a frustrated groan. I just wanted to sleep.

I cursed myself for not bringing any toys along with me. I might not have been sexually experienced, but I was a human being with needs. Masturbating, to me, was more fun than any sexual experience I did have. The two experiences I had with another person left me unsatisfied. An ex-boyfriend of mine that I didn’t date for long flashed through my mind for a second, but he was wiped away when I remembered the sound of Harry’s laughter in my ear. At first I was upset at the lack of vibration and the full feeling of my favorite toy between my legs, but that feeling vanished when I closed my eyes and Harry flashed through my brain.

The column of his throat, covered in a few droplets of sweat from the humid Los Angeles air sent my hips bucking up into my own hand. The sound of his husky voice in my ear had me slipping my fingers as deep as I could. The one thing that sent me over the edge was his eyes. The sultry and mischievous glint hidden behind beds of green had me clenching around my fingers and biting at my lower lip as an involuntary moan slipped. I had never finished so fast before.

When I finished, my chest heaving as I opened my eyes in the dark room, my phone buzzed from somewhere on the bed. I didn’t reach for it immediately, not wanting to break the hazy spell I was still under. If I kept my eyes closed, Harry would still be there in my fantasy, kissing me softly. When I finally found my phone, I noticed that I had a text from Harry. He had put his number in my phone when we were still on the roof, adding a few berry emojis next to his name. I questioned about it and he gave me a soft shrug before stabbing a few of the berries in the cake he had delivered for Claire.

He held his fork up with a smirk, nodding his head as a gesture for me to lean forward and take a bit of the berries resting there. I giggled when I thought about how I leaned forward, wrapping my mouth around the fork. Harry shifted in his seat after that, putting the cake far away as he watched me revel at the taste of tart berries in my mouth. I had never been that bold or flirty in front of a man before, but he drew it out of me somehow.

When I opened the text message he sent me, my breath caught in my throat.

‘I don’t know what happened between us tonight, but I do know that I don’t think I could ever go without you after the way you kissed me. Have sweet dreams, honeybee. Xoxo H’

A smile pulled at the corners of my mouth and I rolled over, letting out a squeal into my pillow.

Harry Styles had me under some kind of spell that I never wanted to be free of.

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

Harry’s POV

Gemma pestered me the entire car ride home.

She wanted to know everything about Bea before she could officially form an opinion about her.

So far, she liked Bea’s friend Claire. After a rocky start, the two quickly began chatting about a common interest that I had no knowledge of. When we finally made it back to my house, I was thankful that she was nearly asleep in the passenger seat of the car. Waking her up wasn’t going to be fun, but I knew she would have a proper strop with me tomorrow if I left her in the car.

After a few choice words, Gemma was off and up to the guest room she considered to be her own personal room. I went about fixing myself a cup of tea with more honey then necessary. There was a small scratch in the back of my throat and I really hoped that I wasn’t coming down with a cold. That was most likely the case though. When I was in the band, I would fall ill after every tour, all of the travel and germs finally catching up with my body.

Part of me wanted to call Bea. I just wanted to make sure that she made it home safe. Part of me also wanted to know if she still wanted to talk to me after tonight. Did it even mean anything to her? When I finally made it up to my bedroom, the weight of the world started to weigh down on my shoulders. It had been a long day and all I wanted was to close my eyes for a little bit.

I put my phone in the bathroom to charge just so I didn’t pick it up again after I got comfortable. Beatrice was fine. I didn’t need to text or call. I had to trust in the process. Hannah had always told me before that being with me was difficult. There was never really time for her to process the things that she felt for me when I was always there, checking up on her.

I didn’t want to overwhelm Bea.

I wanted this one to last.

As I started to drift off into a light slumber, images of her started to play in my mind like a movie. A smile slipped onto my face as I shifted around in bed, trying to get comfortable. I could still smell her perfume on my shirt from where she rested against me. The soft rose scent sent a message to my brain that I couldn’t control, my cock twitching in my boxers as a response. It didn’t take long for me to get hard, a desperate and frustrated groan slipping from my lips as I flopped onto my back. Jerking off to my memories of Beatrice felt cheap and wrong. She deserved more.

“Fucking ridiculous.” I grumbled under my breath, dipping my hand down to my boxers. When I slipped my hand over my cock, my cold rings caused me to hiss out, I let the movie of Beatrice play out in my head despite my previous thoughts. “Don’t even know her, Harry. But you’re still jacking off to her, aren’t you?”

I brushed my thumb over the tip of my cock, my heartbeat picking up as I thought about her sweet voice. I wanted her to be here right now, whispering in my ear, telling me what to do. I wanted her soft hands on my skin, brushing her fingertips over my chest as she kissed my jaw. I should have taken her home with me. Deep down, I knew that even if I asked she wouldn’t have come home with me.

There was something guarded about her. I couldn’t blame her. This wasn’t a relationship you could just dive into. I came with a lot of baggage. As the memory of her lips wrapping around my fork flashed through my mind, I bucked my hips up, cum dripping down over my fingers and pooling around the base of my cock.

With a groan, I threw my covers off my legs before walking into my bathroom. I stripped my boxers off, tossing them to the dirty clothes hamper before I walked over to my sink. After wiping myself clean, I reached for my phone. Fuck it. I wanted her to know what I thought of her. It was selfish of me, but I wanted to make her want me the same. I wanted her in my life and I this time, I wasn’t scared to make it happen.

I wasn’t going to let this girl slip through my hands.

#honeybee #back to the start #part one of the series is redone #woo #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles x ofc #harry styles original fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry writing #harry smut #harry one shot #harry fic #harry

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chilling-seavey · 3 years

Text

Qui Totum Vult Totum Perdit (d.s.) - 4

A/N Oops early post. I couldn’t contain myself

Warnings: This story is centered around a murder so there will be graphic descriptions of blood, death/manslaughter, dealing with corpses, possible domestic abuse (physical/verbal), crime/covering up a crime, shock/grief, and other possibly heavy or triggering topics. Please read at your own discretion.

The muffle of heavy footsteps outside the front door had Jonah and I halting our breaths in our chests in anticipation. We were expectedly on edge. Thankfully, it was just the mail delivery and the security sensor at the front step set off a little notification noise from the main monitor that was set up on the kitchen counter. When the metal mailbox closed and the footsteps faded back towards the street, I moved over to the main monitor and typed in the code and scrolled through the notification menu. The film footage from the studio was still gone but it was listed as having been deleted around 8pm the night before.

“Anything of interest?” Jonah asked.

“Not really.” I mumbled and turned back to face him. “I’m going to look around a little more.”

“Alright. I’ll look around here.” he looked me up and down, “Maybe change your clothes while you’re at it.”

I glanced down at my white hoodie and white jeans, both pieces of clothing stained dark red all up the back from where I had been laying all night and my bloody handprint was smeared over the chest of my hoodie. Good idea.

I returned to the master bedroom and set my laptop bag on the bed and let my computer turn on while I headed into the walk-in closet to find clean clothes. The two garment bags hanging on the far wall in front of the mirror had me stopping in place with my hand on the light switch. I hesitated as if not having expected them to be there; even if I had known they would be returned home by Jonah and my brother along with the wedding gifts two weeks ago. I shuffled over to unzip the first black garment bag, dragging my hand down the smooth white dress that had been hidden underneath. A few smudges of red were left behind from my touch and I pulled my hand back quickly and wiped my blood-stained fingers on my pants.

I forced myself to swallow back any feelings as I zipped the bag back up and focused my attention on pulling black jeans from the shelf and a black t-shirt from a hanger. I took them into the ensuite bathroom and closed the door behind me as if I were trying to shut out something or suddenly needed some privacy. Funny that the only invasive things in the damn house was the weird feeling of guilt and realization and utter confusion that was eating me alive.

My hands were holding myself up on the edge of the counter and I was breathing hard, staring myself in the eye through the spotless mirror. Avalon always liked things clean.

Although I had been passed out on my studio floor for God knows how long that night, I still looked like I hadn’t slept in weeks. I seemed to have a layer of drying blood all over me and it matted my dyed blonde hair down in unattractive dark clumps and stained my white clothes evilly. The dark circles under my eyes didn’t seem like they were just from the flight home and the pale complexion that stared back at me didn’t even feel like my own. I ran my hand over my face, staring at how my slightly sticky fingers tugged at my skin, drawing more attention to my eyes and dry lips…honestly, who was I? My wife was dead – her throat slit and she was left to bleed out – and I was more worried about my face in the mirror.

I could see her eyes in my mind. Those lifeless brown eyes staring at me with all the unrevealable answers to the world. And yet, only days before, she was looking up at me with those same honey brown eyes, full of love and lust, on a king size bed in Costa Rica and whispering how much she loved me.

You have to understand, dear reader, that I had no clue what I was doing or what I was feeling. So you cannot truly blame me when the only reaction to my current situation was my body sending me to my knees in front of the toilet to throw up the limited plane food in my stomach as the metallic smell of blood flooded my senses. It was all too much.

I didn’t know what we had to do next, but I knew that whatever the plan was going to be, we had to move quickly. So I stripped out of my blood-stained clothes and into the clean ones, only stopping long enough to wipe any blood from my skin with a damp cloth until I looked reasonably tame in my reflection. I wet my hair under the tap to get the worst of the blood out of it and ruffled it with a towel before saying ‘good enough’ and headed back to the bedroom.

If I was in fact a murderer, no amount of water was going to cleanse this conscious.

I sat on the edge of the bed and typed in my password to my laptop. The screen loaded and brought up the last tab that was open; the flight information home. The site had updated and stated that the plane had landed on time at LAX yesterday evening and my credit card receipt showed the taxi payment for thirty minutes later. We were home around 7:00. Other than confirming the times at which we returned home, the laptop didn’t offer much assistance.

What did I expect? The screen to read out exactly how my wife was murdered?

Jonah came into the room, “Hey. Find anything?”

I glanced up at him before looking back down at the screen, biting anxiously at my fingernail, “No. Don’t remember anything more either.”

Jonah didn’t answer, letting me have a moment to collect my thoughts. I didn’t blame him; what do you say to your best friend who possibly just murdered their wife and doesn’t remember it. I swiped my finger over the trackpad on my laptop to bring up the other window that was open; iMessage. The last conversation thread that was up was between Avalon and me. I remembered it well.

I was down at the resort bar the night before we left. Jonah had sent me a recording that he wanted my opinions on and I had a few changes I wanted to make so I took myself downstairs with my headphones and my laptop and got some work in. Cocktail in one hand and mouse in the other, I worked until the notification popped up on the bottom menu of my screen.

It would be nice if you spent our last night up here with me.

I had ignored it, huffing and rolling my eyes at her constant pestering and minimized the window again.

God…stupid me. That would have been our last night together. And she didn’t even face towards me when I finally came to bed.

“You weren’t around me!” she yelled, tapping her hand against the cup in her hand so the sound of her ring against the glass punctuated each of her words. “What person wants to spend their honeymoon alone? Of course, I wanted to go home! I was basically there by myself and I was miserable!”

“I had to get some shit done! Jonah needed me to double check a few things while we were away. It’s not the end of the world and I’m sorry if you feel that way!”

I could see her visibly tense and she turned her head so she didn’t have to look at me, jabbing under her breath, “That’s always your excuse, isn’t it? ‘Always gotta get some shit done’. Well, I’m sick and tired of coming second to your work all the time.”

I made her miserable.

“Jonah.” I breathed, turning to look at him over the top of my laptop, “What if she killed herself?”

“She didn’t seem suicidal.” Jonah said.

“Yeah.” I sighed, turning back to the screen. I let out a heavy breath and closed my laptop and tucked it back in the case. “We have to decide what to do.”

“Alright. What are you thinking?” Jonah asked.

I thought for a moment as I set my laptop bag back on top of the untouched suitcase by the wall, “I don’t know. I need time to figure out what the hell happened.”

“Do you want to head to the lodge in Utah? It will buy you a few days and maybe we can figure out what happened by then.”

I nodded, letting out a deep breath, “Yeah, okay. That probably makes the most sense.”

I walked past Jonah and out of the master bedroom, stopping shuffle through the mail that had been collected by Jonah and Christian throughout the last three weeks and placed in a decorative bowl on the front console table. I ruffled through a few bills and random mailer coupons, just to make sure I wasn’t missing anything that I might want to take with me out of state. My search stopped dry at one crisp white envelope, addressed to our house and labelled with simply Avalon with no surname. I frowned and slid my finger under the sealed flap to tear it open.

“Bro, opening other people’s mail is a federal offence.” Jonah stated as he joined me by the table.

“She’s dead, Jonah. I don’t think it really matters anymore.” I answered flatly and pulled out the folded piece of lined stationary from the envelope.

Avalon,

Things are hard right now and I get that but shutting me out isn’t going to help anyone. You can’t give up on me. I really want to see you when you get home. Please let me know when you get this. I need to make things right.

-J

My heart felt like someone was pushing it through a juicer and I frowned down at the paper as I read it a second time. The second time didn’t make it hurt any less. I rubbed my hand over my chest and then ruffled it through my damp hair.

“What the fuck is this?” I breathed. I looked at Jonah, “Who’s J? Is it you?”

“Me? Why would I write her suspicious letters when I can just text her?” Jonah replied.

“Yeah.” I sighed and looked back down at the letter. I clenched my jaw and swallowed back the hurt and strange glimmer of jealousy that was bubbling up inside my empty stomach. “Maybe there’s something on her phone.”

Detective Team: @jonahlovescoffee @randomlimelightxxx @stuffofseaveyy @hopinglimelight @tempus-ut-luceant @br4nd1s @xkelsev @hiya-its-amber @sexyseavey15

#🔪#daniel seavey #jonah marais #why dont we #jack avery #zach herron #corbyn besson #why dont we fanfic #daniel seavey fanfic

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keelywolfe · 3 years

Text

FIC: Drifters ch.3 (spicyhoney)

Summary: Stretch asked Edge where his newest acquisition came from. Time for explanations.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Violence, Rescued Child, Medical Experimentation, Babybones

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

That Morning

The first task Edge had to accomplish was trying very hard not to vomit. No matter how he tried to brace for it, going through one of his brother’s shortcuts always sent his equilibrium into a tailspin that left him retching on his knees at the other side.

Red only stepped to the side, mouth curling in distaste. “bro, you ever gone get over that? seriously, it’s embarrassing to have you yakking on your boots whenever we need a quick exit."

"Fuck off,” Edge rasped out, gagging back another heave. He took a slow, deep breath, another, and then staggered back to his feet, “If you’d care to quit bitching about my issues with motion sickness and tell me why you brought me here, we can get this over with. Where are we, anyw—” He paused, for the first time getting a good look at their surroundings.

That morning, Edge wasn’t halfway through checking the traplines when his brother appeared, stepping out from nowhere directly in front of him as he never did. For once, his sharp, careless grin was absent and in its place were clenched teeth and grim words. “got something i need to show you, boss.”

Edge hadn’t hesitated to go with him. Much as his brother appreciated a terrible joke or a worse prank, Edge trusted him with his life and that unusual seriousness left him equal parts reluctantly intrigued and worried.

A few hasty steps, a shortcut, and a bout of nausea later, and Edge was beginning to rethink that trust.

He whirled around and asked in a furious whisper, “Have you lost your moronic little mind?”

“nah,” Red shrugged, rolling his shoulders lazily and turned to walk down a long, dimly lit hallway. “no more than usual, anyway. c’mon, this way.”

There was little choice but to follow him. Overhead, the fluorescent bulbs sputtered and flickered, flashes of lightning from a manufactured storm illuminating the trash and filth that lined the walls, giving them a setting that was perhaps better suited for the horror movies that Papyrus was so fond of. The comparison wasn’t far off; no sane Monster came anywhere near Alphys’s lab, which would certainly explain why his brother brought them here. It must be something like insanity on both their parts, on Red for coming and Edge for staying.

Edge followed after his brother with carefully silent steps. He wasn't worried about Alphys seeing them on her cameras, they never seemed to work around Red, but that wouldn't help them if she walked right in on them as she investigated some careless noise.

Red didn’t seem to have the same compunction; his sneakers trod heavily, untied laces dragging through the filth. His rough chuckle seemed to echo around them, carrying them along, “heh, you know what’s funny? i still know my way around in here. can’t remember where i put my fucking wallet most days, but an internal map of this shitheap, i got no problems. funny how some things stick.” He kicked aside a moldy ramen cup, a fouled plastic spoon skittering out of it. “i keep tabs on ol’ al, you know. i ain’t sticking my neck out, but i like to keep my nose hole poked into whatever she’s been gettin’ up to down here. just lately, she's been going through the old scientist’s shit, tryin’ to recreate some of his old experiments.”

“She’s been doing that for years,” Edge said, low. “What changed?”

Red stopped outside the door and an unexpected shudder went through his small frame, the rattle of his bones muffled beneath his heavy jacket. He straightened before Edge could so much as lay a concerned hand on his shoulder, twisting out of his reach with a casual indifference that was almost believable. “yeah, well, it ain’t the core she’s been workin’ on.”

Behind that door, the room was lit by a single bare bulb and in its incandescent glow, Edge could see several large, glass tubes filled with some sort of thick liquid lining the back wall, with wiring and pipes spidering out from them and across the ceiling. Beneath the bulb itself was a long steel table, starkly empty except for the unremarkable heavy cardboard box sitting directly in the middle of it. Red gestured sharply at it, though he didn’t approach it himself, and warily, Edge stepped forward to peer inside.

He caught his breath against the raw, painful lurch in his soul, a brief moment of sharp pain that left behind a peculiar numbness inside him.

Inside the box was a skeleton, so small that the perfect curve of its skull could easily be held in the palm of a hand. Its bones were bare, gleaming a soft ivory in the garish overhead light, its sockets were closed—no, her sockets, from the revealing arch of her pelvis. A female, a girl, a child, sleeping naked and alone in a dank room in a hidden, underground lab.

Edge’s gaze drifted over her, absorbing every detail, from the tiniest fingerbones and their delicate joints to the breadth of her small feet. His gaze caught on her lowest rib and held there, frozen. There, engraved on her tiny, fragile bone, was a number, fresh and chalky-white, particles of dust still clinging to it. Unthinkingly, Edge reached out to touch it with a shaking fingertip, his glove whispering across the bone, and he could nearly hear her screams of pain as an indifferent scientist carved their mark into her, as if she was nothing more than another piece of equipment, something new to break.

She stirred, her tiny face scrunching and her little legs drawing up as she mewled a protest, perhaps against his touch on the still-raw wound or perhaps against her callous nakedness, considering that there was a blanket carelessly tossed over the side of the box.

Edge picked up the blanket and something fell out of it as he did, landing at his feet. He bent over to retrieve it, saw what it was. A dingy little gown, thin from repeated washings, one that had surely been used before years ago,

(please let it be years ago)

The numbness in his soul was fading and what it left behind was something else entirely. Edge gritted his teeth hard enough to taste dust and gingerly slipped the gown on the baby, covering her bareness. Then he cautiously wrapped her in the blanket, swaddling her tightly, and gently settling her, still asleep, into the curve of his arm.

Behind him, Red shifted uncomfortably, his shoes squeaking on the tile floor. “boss? what are you do—?”

He broke off on a shout, jumping back as the first attack swept through the room. Heavy glass shattered, as loud as a gunshot, a flood of foul liquid gushing from the broken tubes even as Edge summoned another attack, another, equipment sparking and shrieking beneath the onslaught of jagged, blood-red bones.

“what the fuck are you doing!?" Red screamed, but Edge wasn’t listening. He couldn’t, all he could hear was the child screaming in his head as a number was carved into her, scarring her permanently, marking her as not her own.

‘S-3’

In one corner, a curl of rising smoke turned into a flame, yellow tongues licking at the trash surrounding them greedily. Smoke was filling the room, alarms beginning to blare as Edge turned on his heel and walked out.

“boss,” Red moaned out, nearly jogging to keep up with Edge’s long-legged stride. “you’ve lost your everfucking mind.” But his mouth began to curl, a savage grin spreading across his face as he summoned his own attack, bones flying through the air and there was nothing but broken glass, the alarms, and the steadily growing fire.

"we're gonna fucking die," Red grumbled as they made their way through the long hallways. But he followed along, wreaking his own destruction along the way.

~~*~~

“…and then we came here,” Edge finished. He didn’t look at Stretch, not at all sure what he would see in his face. Disgust, perhaps, for his lack of control, or horror that he very nearly led that world right here to the Swap brother’s doorstep. Better to look at the child, who was sleeping soundly in her little pillow nest. None of this was her fault, least of all her own creation, but it was all because of her, nonetheless.

What came from Stretch was a question so far from his expectations that at first, Edge couldn’t quite comprehend it. “so what’s her name?”

Edge’s head jerked up and he could only look at him blankly. He didn’t even realize his mouth was open until Stretch reached over and gently closed it with a nudge to his chin. He didn’t pull away, only looked at the baby out of the corner of his socket, her rounded little face relaxed in sleep and her small hands closed in lax fists. Nothing like a name came to him, she was only the child, a baby, how could he possibly…?

Perhaps his growing agitation showed on his face. The knuckle on his chin turned into a light touch on his cheekbone, drawing his gaze back to Stretch. “don’t worry,” Stretch said lightly, “there’s no rush on that. we’ll put our heads together and think of something.”

“She's my responsibility,” Edge blurted thoughtlessly, “This was my choice.” He winced even as he said it; it was true, but it wasn’t what he meant, he didn’t know how to say what he meant. This was his responsibility, his burden, but to call an innocent child a burden aloud was too repugnant to consider.

Stretch only nodded. "yep, she’s all yours, no one is taking her away.” Those simple words eased some of the agitation rising inside Edge, even as Stretch tilted his head to the side, offering him a lopsided smile, “that doesn't mean you have to slap away any helping hands, edgelord.”

“I…yes. You're right,” Edge exhaled shakily, reminding himself that he already owed Stretch a great deal, with more debt to come. “Thank you.”

“you don’t need to thank me for this. in fact, i really wish you wouldn’t,” Stretch climbed to his feet with a groan, pressing both hands into the small of his back as he lived up to his namesake, his joints letting out a satisfying series of pops. “c’mon, you should lay down. get some sleep, you look like hammered shit.”

Edge couldn’t help a faint chuckle. “Flatterer.”

“sexy hammered shit,” Stretch amended. “Come on.”

To Edge’s surprise, Stretch gently scooped up the sleeping baby, who never stirred, only snuggled into his arms as Stretch made his way upstairs to his bedroom. It was suspiciously clean; before all this Edge had been planning on visiting tonight and he could only look at the crisp, clean sheets with a sort of exhausted wistfulness that they would not be used as intended.

Stretch didn’t seem bothered to see his hard work go to waste. He flipped back the top blanket and settled the baby on the mattress, close to the wall. “hop in, edgelord, naptime.”

Realization that Stretch intended him to sleep with the child came slowly, and when it did, Edge took half a step back, balking, “What if I roll over on her? I could hurt her!”

Stretch snorted and shook his head. “you? don’t think so. me, maybe, but i so much as wiggle my big toe when we sleep together and you snap to attention. you’ll be fine, we’ll figure something else out later. c’mon, big guy, strip,” Stretch said teasingly, sweeping a hand across the sheets, “time for bed.”

“Don’t talk like that in front of the baby,” Edge grumbled, but he hesitantly obeyed, kicking off his boots and stripping down to his trousers. He left those on, it felt strange to sleep naked in someone else’s bed when they weren’t in it. His glare begged for Stretch to comment but he said nothing, only helped tuck the blankets around them as Edge settled in, being sure to keep a wary safe distance from the sleeping child before closing his own weary sockets.

“sleep well,” Stretch said, softly, and there was a soft brush across Edge’s forehead, like the shadow of a kiss. Soft footsteps made their way across the carpet, but Edge didn’t hear them. Despite his fears, he was asleep before Stretch even made it to the door.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #drifters

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connorswhisk · 3 years

Text

mistletoe ain’t all it’s cracked up to be

Summary: This holiday season, Bitty's devised a plan: stick mistletoe over every doorframe in the Haus.

This is fine. As long as Ransom makes sure not to walk into a room with Holster under any circumstances, it's fine.

Ugh. He hates this stupid plant.

also on my ao3

“Ok, you lost me,” Holster says. “Why haven’t you done this before?”

Bitty huffs, clearly none too happy about being interrupted. “I don’t know why you don’t want to hear about the new cookie recipe my Mama found, especially considering you’ll end up eating half of them, Adam, but fine. I didn’t put up mistletoe frog year because I wasn’t living in the Haus yet, and I didn’t put it up last year because I waited too long and the Stop ’N Shop ran out.”

“Wait, wait,” Ransom cuts in. “Murder Stop ’N Shop or Smelly Stop ’N Shop?”

Bitty sighs and gives him a Look, but Ransom just shrugs. It’s an important question.

“Murder Stop ’N Shop, who do you think I am? I don’t want my mistletoe stinkin’ like the LAX team’s locker room.”

(“Nice,” Holster says, nodding sagely. Ransom elbows him.)

“Anyway,” Bitty says. “I went ahead and got there early this month.” He lifts a sprig triumphantly. “And here we are. Pick me up.”

Holster crouches, grabs Bitty around the middle, and holds him up to the front doorframe.

(Ransom tries not to stare at the strip of skin showing as Holster’s sweatshirt rides up. It takes a lot of effort.)

“That should do it,” Bitty says once he’s back on the ground. “Thanks, y’all. I’m gonna go get baking, now.”

And he heads off to the kitchen.

“Got any plans?” Ransom asks.

Holster shrugs. “Annie’s?”

“Sure.”

They start for the door at the same time, and then Holster flings out an arm and Ransom stops.

“Oh,” he says, looking up at the cheerily green plant hanging narrowly close to directly above their heads. “Right.”

Holster steps through first, and after a beat, so does Ransom.

Holster’s smiling, eyes crinkling at the corners underneath his glasses. “With the amount of time we spend walking through doorways together, it’s bound to happen eventually,” he jokes.

Ransom snorts. “You wish,” he chirps back.

What he doesn’t say is, That’s what I’m afraid of.

— — —

It’s not like Ransom’s never kissed Holster before. They’re on a hockey team, they throw a lot of kegsters, large quantities of alcohol are consumed, it isn’t difficult to do the math. But those occasional drunken make-outs are just that: drunken make-outs. They don’t mean anything, not in the way Ransom wishes they could. They’re sloppy, and quick, and they taste like tub juice, and Holster seems to always end up spilling his beer on either himself, the floor, or Ransom, and they’re pointless, just a bit of fun, and…

And from what Ransom can remember of them, really fucking hot. When your best friend is a 6’6 Adonis with killer abs and eyes bluer than the Pacific ocean, that’s kind of unavoidable. It’s also why Ransom’s so terrified of all this mistletoe.

Kegster kisses don’t have to count, and they don’t. But under the mistletoe? A time-honored, over-done, clichéd holiday tradition? Odds are, if they get stuck under there, they won’t be drunk. And while Ransom knows that Holster will have no problem kissing him and then having a laugh about it, Ransom’s not sure how well his brain’s going to process the inevitable.

He’s in love with Adam Birkholtz, and there’s really nothing to be done about it. Ransom can’t ever tell him because it’ll ruin their carefully cultivated bromance, their fucking co-captaincy, kick everything out of sync, throw a wrench into the coral reef and eff it up entirely. Holster isn’t going to return his feelings, and Ransom still can’t come to terms with that fact.

He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to do that.

— — —

“Yo, you want me to bring you back some latkes after break, right?”

Ransom scoffs. “Dude, is that even a question? Of course. You’re sure your dad won’t mind?” he tacks on as an afterthought.

Holster rolls his eyes, panting a little with the effort of bench-pressing the weight across his chest. “Are you kidding me? My dad like, gets off on cooking for other people. We can’t take him to potlucks because he ends up bringing a whole buffet.”

Ransom laughs. “Nice. I’ll make sure to get my auntie to bake you some of her ginger snaps.”

Holster sets the barbell back on the hooks and sits up, grinning widely, a drop of sweat trickling its way down from his temple. “Don’t tell Bitty, but Auntie Oluransi’s ginger snaps are probably better than his.”

Ransom says, “Careful he doesn’t hear you say that, or you’ll be banned from pie-eating for a month,” and then, “Spot me?”

“Duh,” Holster says, and they trade places.

Ransom’s just about to start lifting when Holster whispers, “Dude, check it.”

Ransom pushes himself up on his elbows and glances over at where Holster’s looking. Nursey and Dex are standing in the weight room doorway, staring up at the mistletoe Bitty had stuck to the top the week before. Nursey’s eyebrows are raised and Dex’s face is starting to redden. Chowder’s standing by, looking unsure of what to do. Ransom knows they’ve got about ten seconds before the yelling starts.

“I mean,” Holster says, shaking his head as Dex shouts out an, Are you kidding me, Nursey?!?! “You’d think they’d realize that they don’t actually have to kiss. It’s just mistletoe.”

“Right,” Ransom says, lying back down to start lifting. “Just mistletoe.”

And then he starts thinking that even if he and Holster ended up in that situation, Holster might not even want to kiss him. He might just walk away.

Ransom isn’t sure which is the better alternative.

— — —

He ends up getting screwed with Jada Forrester, who usually sits near him when he’s studying in the library. Ransom’s not actually that into her - sure, she’s nice, and she’s pretty cute, and she does this thing when she’s concentrating super hard where she bites down on her lip a lot, but he’s never really considered asking her out. Holster must have gotten the sense that Ransom’s more into her than he really is.

Jada’s wearing this red Christmas dress that looks real nice on her, and she’s got a string of tinsel in her hair, and sparkly gold eyeshadow, and glitter all over her face. Ransom feels a little underdressed in his knitted sweater with the ice skates and hockey pucks on it, but his date doesn’t seem to mind, so he tries not to worry about it too much.

“This is fun,” Jada yells over the music, some bass-heavy remix of “Sleigh Ride” that’s making Ransom’s head buzz.

“Yeah,” he shouts back. “Do you want to get a drink?”

Jada nods, grabs Ransom by the hand, and pulls him over to the kitchen where the alcohol is.

“I never know what to get,” she says, staring at the table.

“Mmm,” Ransom hums, not really paying attention. He’s just noticed Holster and Pauline Fishbein making out in the hallway. It isn’t a super heartening sight.

It’s not like Holster hasn’t had his fair share of girlfriends and hookups. It’s not like Ransom hasn’t had his, either. They’re open about it with each other, give each other dating advice and consolation after bad breakups, like any friends do. It’s normal. It’s casual. It’s not a big deal.

It’s just that this is the first year that Ransom has known how he feels about Holster. And now it seems like maybe it was all a big deal, after all.

“You like him.”

Ransom nearly jumps out of his skin. “What?”

Jada hands him a snowflake-patterned solo cup of beer and takes a sip of her own. “Adam.” She nods towards the hall. “You’re into him, aren’t you?”

Ransom stares down into his drink. “Would you believe me if I said no?”

“Not really. It’s a little obvious,” Jada says, shrugging.

Ransom’s pulse quickens. “Oh,” he says, and takes a long drink of beer. God, this is awkward. “I hadn’t realized.”

“I mean, anytime I saw you in the library, he was with you,” she continues. “And half the time you were leaning on his shoulder while you worked.”

“Uh - “ Ransom is pretty sure that half of said shoulder-leaning was automatic, that he did it without thinking because he knew that Holster would let him. The realization isn’t exactly helping his case.

“It’s ok,” Jada says, nodding. “I don’t mind. I’m guessing he doesn’t know, since he set us up.”

“No.” Ransom swallows. “He doesn’t know. I don’t know how to tell him.” He looks up at Jada. “You’re not pissed off?”

“No way, dude,” she says, eyes getting big and shaking her head. “I’m honestly just here for a good time. I’m not really looking for a hook-up or a relationship or anything.”

“Oh. Ok.”

She rolls her eyes. “Man, lighten up. How likely is it that Adam’s gonna keep seeing this girl after this party?”

Ransom shrugs. “It depends. Sometimes he goes out with them afterwards, sometimes not.”

“Ok,” Jada says. “So there’s a pretty good chance he won’t. And, bro, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he returned the feelings.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not!” she exclaims. “Seriously. Even if he isn’t into you, he’s still your best friend. I don’t think he’ll freak out if you tell him.”

“Right,” Ransom says, taking another, smaller sip. “Ok.”

Jada drains the rest of her cup. “Whatever, forget I said anything if you want. Let’s keep dancing.”

Ransom finishes off his beer, too. “Yeah, let’s keep dancing.”

They’re leaving the kitchen when Jada suddenly stops.

Ransom frowns. “What’s up?”

“Huh,” Jada says, looking up. “Mistletoe. I didn’t even notice it when we came in.”

“Oh,” Ransom says. “Oh, yeah, our teammate put them up. I kind of forgot about them.” He looks at her. “Um. You don’t want to…?”

Jada raises an eyebrow. “Shut up,” she says, gives him a quick peck on the cheek, and drags him back out to the living room.

Ransom spends the rest of the night drinking and dancing with Jada. He doesn’t catch sight of Holster and Pauline Fishbein again, and he doesn’t think much about it until he goes up to the attic at three in the morning and finds them in Holster’s bunk, asleep.

He doesn’t do anything, just turns out the light and stares into the dark for what feels like hours before finally drifting off.

— — —

Ransom manages to be in the kitchen by two. Bitty’s already in there of course, way too chipper for the morning/afternoon after Winter Screw, or any Kegster, for that matter.

“Morning, Ransom!”

Ransom winces. “Bits. Loud.”

Bitty rolls his eyes. “Oh, whatever. Not my fault you got drunk last night.”

Ransom’s about to fire something back when Bitty shoves a plate of scrambled eggs and a mug of his coffee in his hands, effectively shutting him up.

“I love you,” he says, and Bitty hums and goes back to whatever it is he’s doing at the counter.

Ransom sits down and mindlessly scrolls through his Twitter feed, shoving his face with eggs and trying to wake his brain up. He doesn’t really have much to do today, but he absolutely hates being hungover, even a little bit, so the sooner he gets out of this stage of post-Kegster blues, the better.

“Yo, are those eggs?”

Ransom glances behind him. Holster’s alone. Pauline must have left.

Good.

“Here you go,” Bitty says, swooping in and giving Holster his own plate and mug. “And that’s the last of it, so if you want more, you can make it yourself.”

“Nice.” Holster sits next to Ransom, knocks shoulders with him casually, and digs in.

“Have fun last night?” Ransom asks.

Holster shrugs, mouth full. He swallows. “Yeah, it was all right.”

Ransom looks back down at his phone. “Ok.”

“How’d things work out with Jada?”

“We just hung out,” Ransom says. “Nothing really happened.”

Holster frowns. “Oh. Shit, did I fuck up this year?”

“No,” Ransom says quickly. “It’s fine. I still had a nice time, we just…we didn’t end up doing anything.”

Holster’s quiet for a second before he nods. “Yeah, ok. Sorry, bro, I thought you were into her.”

Ransom shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

Holster smiles. Ransom’s chest hurts.

“Hey,” he starts to say, though he has no idea how he’s going to finish. “I - “

He’s interrupted by Bitty blasting Beyoncé through the Bluetooth speaker, making them both wince. Nursey (who’s apparently been passed out on the couch this whole time) groans loudly, and Bitty calls, “Sorry, but it’s about time the rest of y’all got up!”

“You think Jack would let him get away with that if he were still captain?” Holster mutters.

“Dude,” Ransom says. “I think Jack would let Bitty get away with anything. That man is whipped.”

Holster snorts and knocks his shoulder against Ransom’s again. Ransom grins.

— — —

“What time is your flight?”

It’s an hour later, and they’re sitting on Holster’s bunk watching random episodes of 30 Rock. Ransom may not always get the hype, but he does enjoy watching it with Holster a lot, even if he’s not always paying attention. It’s been a pastime of their’s since at least sophomore year.

“Ugh.” Holster groans. “It’s at nine.”

Ransom shrugs. “Being at the airport at night is kinda fun.”

“Yeah, I guess. It’s just, y’know. Kegster.”

“Right,” Ransom says, smirking. “This is why I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“Shut up.” Holster watches Liz Lemon cram a sandwich down her throat, and then he says, “I’d totally wolf my Teamster sub for you, bro.”

“Dude, I still don’t really understand what that means,” Ransom says. “But thanks. And I guess I’d do the same for you?”

Holster grins and holds out his fist. “Fuck yeah, bro.”

Ransom taps it with his own. “Fuck yeah.”

And their hands don’t really stop touching even after they fist bump, but Ransom doesn’t freak out about it, he totally doesn’t freak out about it. Nope. Not at all.

It’s not like it’s never happened before.

— — —

“So. Latkes?” Ransom asks.

“Chyeah,” Holster says. “Latkes. Ginger snaps?”

“Ginger snaps,” Ransom agrees.

They’re in the living room. Holster’s about to leave for the airport. Ransom had offered to go with him and see him off there, but Holster’d told him he didn’t want to put him through the holiday season blitz a day earlier than Ransom has to, which, fair.

The Haus is uncharacteristically quiet. Everyone else seems to be packing to go home, too. Ransom hasn’t even started yet, and the fact is grating at the back of his mind, but he hasn’t packed because he spent the whole day with Holster, so it’s justified.

“Well,” Holster says, adjusting the straps of his backpack and stepping backwards onto the porch, roller bag in hand. “See you in the New Year, yeah?”

“Right. See you then.”

Ransom hugs him, long and tight and full, and when he leans back, Holster whistles and says, “Hey. Mistletoe.”

Ransom freezes. No. No way. Absolutely not.

He looks up, and that stupid green plant is smiling cheerily down at him, white berries glimmering, and Ransom silently and fiercely curses it, tradition, Bitty, the holiday season, and all plants in general because why is this happening this is not supposed to happen.

“Oh,” he says, barely able to hear himself over the rush in his ears. “Yep. Haha.”

God damn it, he’s spent all this time making absolutely sure not to walk through any doorways at the same time as Holster, always on the lookout for any mistletoe, Bitty’s or otherwise, and now, on the last day that it could possibly happen, he forgets.

Of course.

“Well.” Ransom clears his throat. “Well, we don’t have to - “

“You don’t want to?”

Ransom stops. Blinks. Holster doesn’t look embarrassed, or upset, or - or anything really. He’s just sort of looking at Ransom, shrugging. “I mean, why not, right?”

Fuck. Holster’s just standing here in his Falconers cap and his Samwell hoodie and that same stupid pair of sweatpants that he’s always wearing, and he’s about to leave for the airport to go home for two weeks, and Ransom is not going to kiss him, he isn’t, he can’t -

“Right,” Ransom says. “Why not.”

Shit.

Holster’s eyebrows knit together. “Hey, I mean, it’s totally cool if you don’t want to. We don’t have to kiss.”

“I…”

Holster breaks eye contact with him. “It’s fine, bro. I mean, I was halfway joking anyway - “

Ransom kisses him. It’s quick and messy and a little bit wet (gross), and it’s also really, really nice.

“Oh,” Holster says once Ransom leans back. “Ok then.”

“I’ll see you next year,” Ransom says. “Next year.”

“Yeah,” Holster mutters, blinking. His cheeks are dusted a rosy pink color, and Ransom can’t be sure if it’s from the cold or what. “Yeah, yeah.”

Ransom holds out a fist. Holster seems to shake himself awake. He grins and bumps it.

“Have a good time, bro,” he says.

“Have a good time,” Ransom repeats. He’s still not totally sure what just happened.

“Say hi to your sisters for me!” Holster calls out as he’s getting into his car.

“Say hi to yours!” Ransom calls back, and once Holster’s gone, he shuts the door, slides down the wall, and just sits.

He doesn’t know what’s going to happen now, but he does know that this is gonna be one hell of a New Year.

#just a cute holiday fic!! i love them #my writing #holsom #pairing: holsom #fandom: omgcp #my post #holster #ransom

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somepinkthing · 4 years

Text

@angstymdzsthoughts for your YZY ultimatum AU where the nie bros adopt Wei Ying after he’s been kicked out.

Part 1 of 2 because I hate myself

[Part 2]

---

Wei Ying wished he could at least say goodbye to Jiang Cheng and shijie.

“I am so sorry, A-Ying,” Jiang Fengmian said, looking as close to tears as his serene face had ever seemed to Wei Ying. It’d been a long week for him, to say the least.

“It’s alright!” Wei Ying chirped back, “I’ll be okay!”

Wei Ying had been ready for this, even if Jiang-shushu wasn’t. After Madam Yu had uttered that ultimatum for the whole of Lotus Pier to hear before storming off with both of the children she bore, what else could be done? Jianf Fengmian could stall as long as he wanted but he had his own children and a wife and a sect to think after--Wei Ying knew he couldn’t hold a candle to the real family he might end up costing his uncle.

“If you need more money, say so,” Jiang-shushu said. Wei Ying jingled his completely packed wallet.

“I think you should take more food after all,” Jiang-shushu said, wringing his hands.

“You’ve packed me with all I could possibly manage to carry, “Wei Ying said with a laugh, “I’m going to be mugged the second I step foot out there! And qiankun pouches don’t make things lighter! Please spare me! Anything else and I’ll be crushed!”

Jiang-shushu huffed affectionately at him before falling back into silence.

This mood was way too heavy for Wei Ying’s liking. Slowly, he reached down to fiddle with his Clarity Bell. It was the first present shijie had ever given him. Jiang Cheng had been so excited, bouncing up and down yelling at him to hurry up and open it. A sign that he was of Yunmeng, recognizable wherever he went.

Well, time to bite the bullet.

Wei Ying made to untie his bell but his uncle’s hands stopped him.

“Keep it. That way, if there’s ever an emergency ...” Jiang-shushu trailed off at the end. Yu Ziyuan was a woman of her word. Even if it were an emergency, Wei Ying would never be welcome back, bell or no bell. They both knew that.

“Just keep it. Please. It belongs to you,” Jiang-shushu whispered.

Wei Ying nodded and gave his uncle’s hands one last squeeze before stepping onto the boat that would take him from his (former) home.

He looked back until there was nothing else to see.

—-

5 Months Later

“Sir? Are you alright?” a hesitant voice called out to him. Wei Ying looked up to find a rather attractive boy peering down at him. He had wide, harried looking eyes that reminded Wei Ying of the pheasants he used to hunt--they’d look around with those eyes right before running. Behind the young man was a carriage, the driver leaning forward and scowling.

Ah. Wei Ying was in the way of the road then.

“I apologize, young master,” Wei Ying said, standing up with a smile, “I’ll move out of the way!”

“I-It’s okay!” the other boy said, following Wei Ying to the side of the road and looking him up and down. “You-you’re not injured are you?”

Wei Ying shook his head. “I thank you for the concern, young master, but I just slipped on the ice a bit and decided to take a rest.”

“A rest? On the ground?” the boy asked, aghast.

“Yep! I slipped and hurt all over! The snow will comfort me and my bruises.”

The young man looked down at Wei Ying’s feet. “Yes, with shoes like that you would slip on the ice. You must not be from around here. You should really pick up some winter gear. I know a few good stores that could take you right away!”

“Would that I had the money to,” Wei Ying replied wryly before he could stop himself. This boy didn’t need to know how destitute he had let himself become. Turns out, no one wants the help of a child rogue cultivator, no matter how talented. He had thought that Qinghe might have some work for him, given their abundance of smaller demons crawling on the mountains, but he had been unprepared for the winter. But, again, this young master who traveled around in a carriage would hardly understand that. Probably the son of a wealthy merchant or something. He was a friendly one though, those were rare.

The boy in front of him immediately looked uncomfortable, biting his lower lip and dropping his gaze.

“I-I’m sorry. I hadn’t meant to pry. Um, if you want…”

He was interrupted by the carriage driver.

“Young Master Nie, I am to bring you straight home. Your brother was very specific! We don’t have the time to be stopping for every peddler on the street!”

From a top disciple to a mere peddler. Oh, how the mighty fall. Wei Ying couldn’t even dispute it though, he thought to himself. He was a peddler now, wasn’t he? His pride and the rapidly dwindling supplies Jiang-shushu had packed him with was all that was stopping him from going back to begging and fighting for meals with dogs at this point.

“B-But!” the boy started to say but immediately retreated when he saw the driver roll his eyes at him.

Huh. Odd. You’d think that a carriage driver would show more respect to his master. Was this boy truly that easy to bully?

“Young Master Nie, get back in the carriage. We are late as it is,” the driver moaned, frustrated, “Do you want to be caught standing here when your brother comes to look for you?”

The boy pouted but immediately moved to acquiesce, shooting Wei Ying an apologetic smile. Apparently he was that easy. Or perhaps it was the threat of his brother.

Wait.

Did that driver say Nie?

“My brother’s got better things to do. He’s not going to come looking. Don’t be so tense,” the boy said as he started to climb inside.

“Who’s not coming?” a clear, low voice sliced through the bustle of the town as a looming figure descended from the sky. Nie Mingjue’s boots hit the ground with a heavy thud.

And this could only be Nie Mingjue, newly decorated with the paraphernalia that marked him as the teenage leader of Qinghe Nie. Madam Yu was always careful to keep Wei Ying with the other disciples at conferences so he had never met the infamous Nie Mingjue nor his brother in person, but his presence matched everything that Wei Ying had heard about him in the past. So then, that boy was…

“Huaisang, want to explain to me why you broke curfew?”

Ah. Nie Huaisang. His reputation preceded him too, Wei Ying thought as he watched Nie Huaisang cower from his brother’s line of questioning.

“I took a little longer, that’s all…” he squeaked out.

Nie Mingjue scoffed. “A little longer? Is that what you call over three hours of my scouring for you? Do you think I don’t have anything better to do?!”

“Well then, go do them,” Huaisang muttered, defiant for but a few seconds before yelping pathetically when his brother marched forward and grabbed his ear.

“You’re mouthy!” Nie Mingjue growled, “Do you know how many people I have out searching right now? You’ve been gone since this morning! I told you to be back by lunchtime and it’s after dinnertime now! The sun has gone completely down!”

“I get it! It won’t happen again! DaGe, let go of me!” Nie Huaisang whined, batting at his older brother’s hand. Nie Mingjue gave his ear one last hard twist before relinquishing his hold.

“See to it that it doesn’t.”

Then, swiveling around to face the front of the carriage, Nie Mingjue’s face turned even more stern. He opened his mouth, presumably to yell at the driver. That’s when he saw Wei Ying.

“Huaisang, who's the kid?”

“I didn’t have the chance to ask,” Huaisang muttered, pouting as he came up behind his brother. “He’s not from here, that’s all I know.”

“Yeah, I’d say,” Nie Mingjue snapped back, “Yunmeng Jiang’s Clarity Bells aren’t exactly given out on the streets of Qinghe.”

Wei Ying’s hand immediately shot down to cover his bell. Nie Huaisang’s eyes whipped down to it before he could fully hide it from sight. His eyes widened and he stopped rubbing at his sore ear.

“You are a disciple of Yunmeng Jiang?” Nie Huaisang asked, doubt coloring his voice.

“I-I am not,” Wei Ying said. He could see the gears turning in the young master's head upon hearing his answer.

“Then…. Oh.”

Awkward understanding and recognition settled on Nie Huaisang’s face. Wei Ying looked down. He didn’t want to see the pity that would be there. Yu Ziyuan leaving Jiang Fengmian until he tossed out his street rat was the gossip of a lifetime. There’s no way the story hadn’t reached Qinghe Nie.

Suddenly, Nie Mingjue moved forward. In a few long strides, he stood before Wei Ying. He put his hands together into an upright salute.

“Qinghe Nie’s Nie Mingjue greets this young master,” Nie Mingjue said sharply, tone obviously hinting at the two boys to remember their manners.

“O-Oh! Qinghe Nie’s Nie Huaisang greets this young master,” Nie Huasiang greeted, following his brother’s example.

Wei Ying hesitated but even he wouldn’t dare refuse to greet a sect leader, especially after being greeted himself.

“Wei Ying greets Sect Leader Nie and young master Nie.” He sunk into a low salute. He used to be much more lax with them but with the way things were now, he could no longer afford to be so familiar with such high ranking cultivators. He was no longer anyone’s equal.

“You do not claim a sect?” Nie Mingjue rumbled, coking an eyebrow.

“I am… afraid the rumors are true. I am but a lone rogue cultivator now,” Wei Ying replied.

Nie Mingjue’s brow furrowed and he looked Wei Ying over.

“How old are you?”

“Wei Ying turns eleven this year.” The answer only deepened the frown on the young sect leader’s face.

“That’s too young to be a rogue cultivator, is it not?”

Well, everyone else and their moms sure believed it was. Hence why Wei Ying was so down on his cash. Wei Ying bit his tongue and refused to let his bitterness seep out. In truth, they were probably right.

“I am talented enough to be useful, sect leader,” Wei Ying replied. And he was. Youth aside, he already had his golden core mostly formed and he could fly on his sword for short bursts. He had soundly beaten Jiang Cheng in the sword fighting competition during the last discussion conference, taking first in his age group (Madam Yu had been livid and he had wished he hadn’t but the point stands).

“Yes, I remember hearing that about you,” Nie Mingjue affirmed before turning to his brother.

“Do you have an extra coat in there, Huaisang?”

“I do! I’ll get it!” Nie Huaisang said eagerly, scrambling back into the carriage.

“Sect Leader Nie, you’re too kind! I don’t need—” Wei Ying stared to protest, but a heavy hand on his shoulder cut him off. Nie Mingjue’s hand was large and fully covered Wei Ying’s bony shoulder, squeezing lightly. It was… surprisingly nice. And warm.

“Work it off, if you like. I could use talent in my sect right now. Come show me what you can do and I’ll give you the chance to work for the shelter I’ll provide.” Nie Mingjue’s hand tightened on Wei Ying’s shoulder, but it didn’t feel like a threat. Despite the strength behind the grip, Wei Ying was reminded of when his shijie would hold his hand and speak to him gently. It was comforting.

Huaisang rushed out of the carriage with a fur cloak and some gloves. He handed the gloves to his brother so he could drape the cloak around Wei Ying’s shivering form.

“Are you going to come stay with us?” Nie Huaisang asked. He almost looked excited at the prospect. He pulled the cloak tighter around Wei Ying as he spoke and began to do the buttons before Nie Mingjue batted his hands away and told him to let Wei Ying dress himself.

“The disciples my age don’t come to the Unclean Realms to train often so it’d be nice to have a friend! And you must have so many stories from all your travels!” Nie Huaisang chirped, eyes twinkling at the idea of having someone to talk to that wasn’t his brother.

“Well, kid?” Nie Mingjue asked as he handed Wei Ying the gloves.

They were warm.

Wei Ying nodded.

---

tbc

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angelhalo · 4 years

Text

Smut Alphabet - Barbatos

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Already has the towels and blankets on standby to clean and wrap you up. If you’re especially needy, he’ll on the rare occasion spoon you (you’re the little spoon ofc, doesn’t matter if you’re physically bigger) with lots of words of affirmation and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. But usually, he’s quiet. Can’t help but offer a compliment about something you did or how you look; it’s part of his etiquette.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part of his is his hands; they get a lot done, not just for his butler duties, but during his alone time with you. Absolutely weak for his partner’s back - he loves the way it arches - he finds its unique shape beautiful.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

This man does not like making messes, but this is the exception. He doesn’t mind cumming inside you, but he prefers cumming on your body, whether it’s your face, back, stomach, etc. Facials may or may not be his favorite!

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Maybe not so secret to MC after their first few sexcapades, but Barbatos is quite the voyeur (you can’t blame him, all that time yearning for MC as they lived with seven demon bros, only able to sneak glances at them...)

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s a fast learner (in thanks to serving prince of the Devildom) and adept at finding out what his partner likes, so despite his lack of previous partners he has no qualms pleasing them. It’s only apparent, his lack of experience, when you try to take the lead and he doesn’t know what to do when he’s not in control in the bedroom.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying.)

Barbatos will never admit it, but missionary. It’s so intimate and he loves being so close to his partner; he likes watching their facial expressions.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Can go either way. But by default, he’s a pretty serious person. He loosens up more with you as time goes on, but during giggly sex you’re doing most of the laughing.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Just like the rest of his appearance, he keeps things tidy and on a semi-regularly basis trims his hair. I don’t think manscaping is the proper term to use, he sees no problem with body hair and isn’t uncomfortable with it, he just dislikes when things get unruly.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Not very talkative unless you’re nervous and he wants to make you feel relaxed, then he’ll be sure to whisper lots of compliments and leave soft kisses on your neck and chest. Lots of lingering touches and eye contact. The foreplay begins way before you’re in the bedroom, whether it’s a cliché candlelit dinner or back massage or drawing you a bath filled with rose petals, he will treat you. He is a secret romantic.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

This man has so much self control he rarely feels the need to actually relieve himself in private. Granted, it was a lot easier before he met you. He will not jack off to you until you’ve been in a committed relationship for awhile, because otherwise he’d think he’s being vulgar. The few times he actually does get off though he prolongs the act, edging himself until he tires himself out, either by cumming or becoming disinterested (and soft), and falling asleep. Despite his personality, he never feels guilty about masturbating.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Bondage/shibari - he loves tying his partner up, but when they’re hanging midair that’s his favorite

Voyeurism - bonus points if MC is into exhibitionism and encourages him to watch

Breathplay - his hands around your neck and he’s still wearing his white gloves, try choking him see what happens <3

Sadism and Discipline, for the following his partner is on the receiving end - degradation, impact play (esp flogging w/whips and spanking w/ paddles or his hands), gagging, begging

Breeding (or simulating it through roleplay) - this is the riskiest one and one he’s hesitant to bring it up, if it’s not your thing it’s not an issue but if it is well you’re lucky to say the least

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

One of the many unused rooms in Diavolo’s palace, or his bedroom. He’s not so adventurous about the where so much as the how

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

MC teasing him throughout the day with playful texts and sending suggestive pics, MC purposely acting bratty and insisting they be punished, MC flirting with him in the open esp around the brothers (but NOT around Diavolo). Sit on his lap and rub yourself against his thigh and beg a little, he'll pay attention to you eventually

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Basically anything with bodily fluids, with the exception of blood. And public sex is a no, he wouldn’t risk being caught. Would be turned off if MC suggested a threesome, but could be persuaded depending on with who.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He likes both, but prefers giving. THE best service top when giving oral, ask him anything he’ll do it. Knows he’s rough when receiving so doesn’t ask for it much, but if you like being face fucked it’s a win-win

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Barbatos has a lot of pent up stress and feelings, he’s rough. But he’s also not in a rush for his time with you to be over, and so he’ll draw it out with a slow pace if time permits, until you’re begging him to go faster. He will. He can be soft too, and when you’re both feeling more lax the sex is gentler and quieter. He still makes sure you cum.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Sadly, sex with Barbatos is usually in the form of a quickie. He has like no free time so get used to it.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He’s a butler yes, but he’s also a demon. He’s willing to entertain most of MC’s fantasies/suggestions as long as there is no real risk of being caught in the act. Funny enough, riskiest thing they’ve done together was fuck while MC was on the phone with one of the demon bros, at Barbatos’ request.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

When Barbatos says he can last all night, he means it. Won’t cum until you’ve orgasmed at least once. Lasts longer in doggy style because he can’t see your face and get turned on by your expressions. If you tire easily it’s okay, he’ll hold you up and keep up the pace <3

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Ends up acquiring lots of toys to use on his partner, experimenting is the best way to have the best sex he reasons. He’s particularly fond of using vibrators on you, and keeping them in you after you leave his room; you know those vibrators that can be controlled by remote or phone, yah you can bet he’ll randomly up the intensity.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

If you’ll let him, he’ll tease you till you’re crying. He knows how to make you beg, beg for more, beg for less. He’ll make fun of you for whining, but it drives him to tease you longer. King of orgasm denial and edging, be careful.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He’s quiet by nature, but his shallow breaths are so pretty, and the unexpected grunts when you push back against him in doggy style in between him fucking you are everything. If you somehow convince him to bottom or get pegged, he’ll whimper for you and bite his lips trying to stifle his moans.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

This man has a forked tail please pay special attention to it (aka shove it down your throat), you’ll be rewarded!

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Just girthy and long enough to give you that nice full feeling that takes time to adjust before he can start pounding into you. Will almost always finger you beforehand to prep you for his size, since demon dicks are quite dissimilar to humans’ and are on the larger side. His size came as a welcome surprise the first time you saw it because it seemed unexpected from someone so modest

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Oh he yearns for you, your body, to touch you, but he’ll never beg for sex. In fact, it’s MC that finally brings it up and initiates it. Could honestly probably go without it, but why would he now that he has the most wonderful partner!?

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’s used to long nights at work (aka helping Diavolo carry out another dumb prank on some poor soul, filing paperwork, or something more morbid) so he won’t immediately fall asleep even though he’s tired. He falls asleep only after you have. He likes to watch you slowly drift off, and it’s these moments he knows he’s in deep. He’s actually fallen for a human. On these nights he dreams.

#i don’t accept constructive criticism #obey me #obey me!#obey me barbatos #om! barbatos #swd barbatos #obey me! barbatos #shall we date barbatos #barbatos imagine #not sfw

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emy-loves-you · 4 years

Text

Have Your Name (And Your Back) Chapter 4

Viridi drops in to say hello, and Patton's left with more questions than answers

Chapter 3 | Masterlist | Chapter 5

Warnings: Intrusive thoughts, self-deprecating thoughts, descriptions of Patton's 'punishments', touch starvation, mentions of cannibalism and torture (courtesy of Remus), boys in skirts, malnourishment and bruises

“What are you doing out of bed?”

Patton jumped, staring at the figure with wide eyes. It took a moment for him to recognize the person leaning into the doorway. Lord Ignis’ brother. Isn’t his name Viridi? Patton then registered the question and bowed his head. “I-I’m sorry, sir. I know I’m n-not allowed to leave the room, b-but I had to use the r-restroom, and-”

Viridi stepped forward, and Patton immediately went quiet. He did his best to not curl in on himself in fear, knowing that would only make his punishment worse. Hopefully, he would only get a slap or two for disobedience, but Patton was never good at judging the severity of things (it sometimes felt like there was no set severity, but that was silly because Patton deserved it). As the seconds ticked by with no pain or verbal command Patton felt himself tense up more and more. Mother and Father never waited, always punishing him immediately. So why wasn’t he being touched or ordered? Does he want me to clarify my disobedience? No, then he would tell me to do so. If he wanted me to continue speaking he could’ve just punished me for being silent. Maybe he wants to wait so I don’t know when it’s coming-

Patton’s vision started to blur, his mind racing. Images of past punishments flickered through his head. Does he want me to pick my punishment? Mother made me do that sometimes. Maybe he’s waiting for me to kneel so he can lash me with his belt. But Father always told me to kneel or pushed me down. He’s not doing anything why isn’t he hurting me what’s my punishment I’m scared I can’t breathe-

Patton felt a hand on his shoulder and flinched. The hand didn’t move at all, just applying enough pressure for Patton to know it was there. It could push me to the ground or slap my face or strangle me or-

The hand shifted to his back, and the rest of Viridi’s body seemed to press itself against Patton. “Focus, Kid. You’re safe. I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise.” Patton felt something warm spread throughout his body, moving from his chest to the tips of his toes. His head felt fuzzy and when he opened his eyes, everything had an odd green tint. He couldn’t see Viridi anymore, his head on his shoulder. Patton couldn’t tell what was happening. Why were Viridi’s arms around him? Is he going to squeeze me until all my bones break? Patton whimpered at the thought.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” Patton went silent at the question, and Viridi elaborated. “The thoughts. You shouldn’t have this many bad thoughts.” Patton whimpered again, ashamed at how weak and broken he was. “Hey, I heard that. Just because you have bad thoughts doesn’t mean you’re weak or broken.”

Patton gasped. “I-I’m sorry sir, I d-didn’t mean to speak out of turn!” He whimpered as he remembered the pain he got in the kitchen for speaking out loud.

The green tint became stronger as Viridi spoke. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re not getting punished for speaking your mind. Actually, we want you to talk, Kid. It’s easier to understand what’s wrong when you talk. And you didn’t actually say that out loud, I heard your thoughts.”

Patton frowned, confused. “You heard my thoughts?”

Suddenly the green tint became a green light, swirling around in Patton’s vision. He gasped at the sight. He brought his hand up to touch the light and gasped again. The light was covering his entire hand, licking against his skin like a warm fire. “It’s pretty neat, isn’t it?” Patton nodded, staring at the light. “That’s my magic. Me and your Godfather can both do it. Fire magic and Dream magic. It helps us see what your thinkin’, though I’m the only one that can see these nasty thoughts.”

Patton frowned at the implications. “I’m sorry you have to see those. My pa-” Lord Ignus didn’t want me to call them that “Lord and Lady Hart wanted me to remember my punishments so I would learn my lesson and behave better.”

There was a pause before Viridi spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. “So those were memories, not just random ideas?” Patton nodded, and he felt Viridi’s hold get slightly tighter. “When I get my hands on those bastards-”

Patton whimpered as he felt the pressure increase. It wasn’t anywhere near painful, but he didn’t know what was going on and his best guess was that he was going to be crushed. He tried to stop himself from stiffening up (when had he relaxed?), knowing that it would just make it worst. Please don’t hurt me please don’t-

The arms immediately went lax, but they didn’t move. “Why do you think I’ll hurt ya?” Patton thought back to getting crushed, and the green light got slightly brighter for a few seconds. “Crush you? Why would… oh.” Viridi’s hands began rubbing small circles into Patton’s back. “Do you not know what a hug is?”

Patton frowned. “A… hug?” He’d never heard of that word before.

Viridi sighed. “It’s a form of comfort. Here, wrap your arms around me.” Patton followed the order, still confused. “You’re supposed to add just enough pressure to comfort, not enough to hurt. I’m gonna hug you now, okay? Tell me if you wanna stop.” Patton nodded as the arms squeezed him lightly.

The pressure was… Patton couldn’t think of a word to describe it. He’d thought that the green light was warm, it was nothing compared to this. It felt like a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, protecting him from the chill. It reminded him of a long lost friend, or seeing your shadow after years in the dark. It feels like home.

Patton broke down, sobbing into Viridi’s shoulder. He felt Viridi start to pull away and he whined, trying to pull him closer. The hug was almost painfully warm but it felt right. Viridi sighed. “I’m sorry they hurt you, Kid. If I could, I would make them pay a thousand times over. I would rip off their toes and feed them to the other. I would make them relive every punishment you’ve ever had and have them trapped in an endless cycle of pain as they bled out.”

The thought of Viridi hurting Patton’s parents should’ve made Patton feel… something . Anger, fear, sympathy. But all Patton felt was calm and… happy. Safe. He truly cares.

Viridi sighed, adjusting his hold. Suddenly, Patton was being held off of the ground, safety in Viridi’s arms. The green light fully dissipated as he spoke. “C’mon, Kid. You need to lay-”

“Patton.” Viridi stiffened, but Patton continued. “My name’s Patton.”

Viridi shuddered. “Do you know anything about the fae, Kid?”

Patton frowned. “Fae?”

Viridi sighed. “I’m… not the best at explaining this sort of thing. Just know that you shouldn’t give away your name all willy nilly. And don’t get upset when we don’t call you by your real name.” He carried Patton over to the bed. “Names hold a lot of power to the Fae.” He leaned over the bed and let go, Patton’s lower half landing softly on the bed. His hands stayed tight around Viridi. “Kid, I need you to let go. You need rest, and I have some things I’ve gotta do.” Patton frowned, but he let go, leaning back against the pillows. “Get some sleep, kid. My bro will be here soon with some food. And if you need me, just call for the Duke!”

Patton tilted his head. “The Duke?”

Viridi smiled, but this time it seemed a little too wide, his teeth a little too sharp. “I told ya, names hold a lot of power to the Fae. You may call me the Duke.”

Patton frowned. “I thought your name was Viridi?”

Viridi the Duke chuckled. “That’s the name that I let those assholes call me. That doesn’t mean it’s my real name. No one here gives away their real name unless they’ve earned it.” He gave a dramatic bow. “See ya, Patty-Cake!” The green light came back, bright enough for Patton to close his eyes, and suddenly the Duke was gone.

Patton stared at the now empty spot. That looked eerily similar to the first time Patton’s Fairy Godfather disappeared, after they made the deal. All of this seemed impossible, but apparently it was.

Magic. Patton didn’t know much about magic. Everything he had ever learned was from other staff members or things he overheard while visiting the market. He remembered one of the maids talking about magic and love, but Patton didn’t think that was what the Duke was talking about. They had a gardener once that taught Patton the different uses for plants. They had spoken of magic and curses and cures for anything under the sun. But they spoke about witches, not Fae.

What are the Fae, anyway? It sounded a lot like Fairy, so it would make sense if they were one and the same, right? The Duke said that he was one of the Fae, and Lord Ignis was Patton’s Fairy Godfather, so they were probably the same thing. Patton tried to remember everything about them that seemed off. They can make warm light that makes my head go fuzzy. They can read minds? The Duke said only he and Fairy Godfather could do that. The Duke also said that they all use fake names, and both he and Umbra said that I shouldn’t tell them my name. They can appear and disappear. Umbra healed the cut on my hand. Fairy Godfather did something magical when he told Mother and Father to not look at me. And the Duke made the blood on his face disappear- oh shoot, I forgot to apologize for undercooking his chicken! I’ll probably get punished if I tell him, but I’ll get in more trouble if I don’t say anything because Fairy Godfather and Umbra already know.

Patton groaned, sitting up. All this thinking about magic and Fae made his head hurt. He had so many questions and no answers. And he was starting to feel twitchy by this point. He had already felt bad when the Duke found him but didn’t punish him, and this was the longest Patton had ever gone without cleaning or cooking or doing something productive.

After a few more minutes of fidgeting, Patton got back up. He made his bed and fluffed the pillows, but was disappointed when he realized there was nothing left to clean. The room was mostly bare and everything was spotless. Patton frowned. He always had something to clean at home, so he could prove his worth. How could he prove that he was a good godson if he couldn’t clean?

Patton scanned the room before his eyes landed on the walk-in closet. It looked empty when Patton first walked in, but maybe he overlooked a cobweb or something? Patton shuddered at the thought of spiders, but he pressed onwards.

The closet was pitch black until Patton fully stepped inside. There was apparently a set of fairy lights on the ceiling that lit up once he entered. Patton shut the door and moved further into the closet, studying every square inch. The racks and drawers were all empty, not a single item of clothing in sight. Patton wondered if the room he had been staying in was a guest room of sorts, though it looked more like a master bedroom to him. When he reached the end of the closet, Patton was surprised to see a little wooden platform and a full-length mirror. Patton took a look at himself and winced. His hair was a mess, his clothes were ripped, and the bruise on his face still hadn’t gone away. Patton stepped up on the platform, wanting to get a better look at himself when he felt a surge of warmth around him. Patton immediately flinched, not expecting the sudden warmth that immediately disappeared. When Patton opened his eyes, he didn’t see anything different at first. His hair was still messy, his clothes were still torn, and his bruise was still there. It wasn’t until Patton turned around that he saw it.

The entire closet was now filled with clothes, all in different styles and colors. Shirts, pants, suits, dresses, skirts, everything! Patton was pretty sure he saw some undergarments and accessories peeking out of the drawers!

Patton stared at it all in awe, not even realizing he had moved until he was rubbing a shirt between his fingers. It was soft, softer than any clothing Patton had ever touched, much less anything Patton had ever worn. Patton carefully pulled it off of the rack and held it up against his chest at the mirror. It looked like a perfect fit.

Patton giggled, and for the first time that he could remember, Patton felt pure joy as he sorted through the clothes. He carefully held every clothing item up to the mirror, giggling every time. Sometimes he would make a silly face at the mirror, giggling so hard that he needed to take a break for air.

Patton went through dozens of clothes before an outfit stood out. It was a sky blue shirt and a white shirt. The shirt sleeves were long and billowy, longer than his arms and big enough at the ends to fit his whole head inside. The skirt was also quite long and billowy, ending just a few inches above his ankles.

Patton looked up at the mirror and bit his lip. The outfit was so pretty, and it looked like it was made to fit Patton perfectly. And Patton’s current clothes were so dirty and torn. But Patton wasn’t told that he could wear these…

Patton looked down at the outfit and smiled. His Fairy Godfather probably wouldn’t be back for a little while. He could just try on the clothes and then put them back! Patton giggled at his own brilliance as he set the clothes off to the side.

Patton slowly took off his clothes, wincing at the sight. His skin was extremely pale, with various bruises painting awful images across the surface. His torso was the worst, with dark bruises and shallow cuts. He could perfectly trace most of his ribs, and his stomach was caved in slightly. Patton frowned at his body. He knew it wasn’t good to look like this, even if he deserved it.

Patton searched through the drawers until he found a pair of underwear he was comfortable with, slipping them on along with the shirt and skirt. He looked back in the drawer and saw some pretty white knee socks to go with the outfit, and rows of shoes sat on the shelves below. Patton frowned; he didn’t actually know where his shoes were, since they weren’t on him when he woke up. Patton shrugged, deciding to complete the outfit. He quickly tugged on the socks and a pair of blue mary janes. He went to turn back to the mirror when something sparkly caught his eye. Patton looked into one of the half-open drawers and saw jewelry, hair accessories, and a hairbrush.

Patton held the brush in awe. When was the last lime Patton was allowed to brush his hair? He slowly pulled the brush through his tangled hair, watching with awe as it went through his hair with ease. Magic brush, he thought giddily as he finished brushing his hair. He put the brush back in the drawer and stepped back onto the platform, gasping when he looked into the mirror.

Is that… me? Patton held up his hand, watching as mirror Patton did the same. But the boy in the mirror couldn’t be Patton. He looked so… clean. And pretty. And… happy.

Knock knock knock

Patton jumped, spinning around (if he wasn’t terrified he would’ve giggled at the way his skirt fanned out). He froze when he heard a voice on the other side of the door.

“Pat? Are you in there? Your food’s ready.”

Patton nearly cried at his Fairy Godfather’s voice. He wanted to do so many things at that moment. Run to his Fairy Godfather. Run and hide. Quickly try to change his clothes back. Tell his Fairy Godfather to go away. Tell him to come in. But Patton didn’t do any of that. Instead, he stood frozen with fear as the doorknob jiggled.

“Pat? I’m gonna open the door now, okay? Just to make sure that you’re okay.” Patton watched with tears in his eyes and his breath caught in his throat as the door slowly swung open.

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

Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess

#sanders sides fic #Fairy Mafia #patton sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders

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when-they-write-stuff · 4 years

Text

For @theladyandthewolves because my inbox noped your ask/prompt out of nowhere for some reason.

❛ please … i have money , just let me go . ❜

Stiles didn’t go to a bar that night expecting to be kidnapped.

He had struggled through an entire day of classes and Scott had promised to take him out afterward if he didn’t kill himself first. But then Allison texted and… well, Allison. That’s all that needed to be said about that subject.

Stiles hadn’t gone to a bar that night expecting to be kidnapped, but he really should’ve. Things like that always seemed to happen to him these days.

After his day of craptastic college classes, he just wanted to drink his sorrows away and unwind. And things were going great until the bartenders switched out and the woman opposite him took one look his way and proceeded to go all serial-killery.

Stiles had been nursing his rum and coke for about an hour now, so it wasn’t a refill he was looking for when she practically zoomed over. The woman had dark brown hair and sharp green eyes, and she looked a little scary if Stiles was being honest. He really didn’t want to make conversation.

She didn’t give him the opportunity to say no.

“Well,” the woman said, resting her elbows on the counter and leaning toward him. “What do we have here?”

Stiles arched a brow and chuckled nervously. “Um, hello?”

“You don’t look twenty-one, sweetie.”

A lump formed in his throat and Stiles fished out his wallet, showing his ID. It was fake, but it well done, and he’d never been caught before. Even if Scott did like to say he still had the face of a high schooler.

The woman looked over it and Stiles could tell she wasn’t impressed. But to his surprise, she didn’t kick him out, just passed the ID back over. Her smile was even sharper this time.

“Well, Mie—”

“Stiles,” Stiles said, cutting her off before she could even attempt to butcher his real name. “Everyone just calls me Stiles.”

“Stiles,” the woman said, eyes glittering. “What are you doing here, Stiles?”

That was not the type of question he’d been expecting. Stiles cast an eye around the bar, noticing nervously how empty it really was, and chuckled. If she decided to murder him, would anyone see? Someone would have to see. But surely she wouldn’t murder him. That’d be bad for buisness.

“Uh,” he said, wetting his lips. “Getting a drink?”

“Is that all?”

Stiles really didn’t know how to answer that, so he just stayed quiet. The woman’s smile turned darker.

Before he could react, she was taking his drink and turning away. Stiles made a surprised noise of protest but the woman just waved a hand over her shoulder, grabbing a few bottles and filling it from an angle so Stiles couldn’t quite see his glass.

“It’s just a refill, sweetie. On the house.”

Stiles’s heart was thudding nervously against his chest when she turned back and pushed it over the counter toward him. It looked like rum and coke but he still didn’t think he wanted to drink it. Except, from the look in the woman’s eyes, he was terrified she might rip his throat out if he didn’t.

So, putting on a grin, Stiles lifted the glass to his lips and took a drink. The woman watched and Stiles drank until the glass was half-gone. Then he set it down again.

“Thanks for that,” he said, starting to push himself up. “But I really should be going.”

“Already?”

“Uh, yeah, I’ve got classes tomorrow and— Woah.”

The room was suddenly spinning and Stiles nearly tripped over his own feet, grabbing onto the counter for support. He felt like he’d done a lot more than drink a little bit of rum and as the room continued to spin, all he could do was sink back onto the barstool again.

His mouth felt weird. Like cotton.

The woman had moved around the counter and Stiles blinked as she approached him. Fingers danced along his shoulder and panic started to build up in his throat. Stiles tried to say something— or maybe scream for help, but his mouth wasn’t moving. All that came out was an intelligent ‘hrrrrgh’ noise that made her smile.

Drugged, Stiles realized. He’d been drugged.

His dad was going to kill him.

“It’s alright,” the woman said, and Stiles could’ve sworn her saw sharp teeth when she smiled. “You’re just going to answer a few questions.”

He didn’t know what the hell that meant. But before he had a chance to protest, he was sliding sideways off the stool, surprisingly strong hands were catching him, and Stiles hear a whisper of other words before all he knew was black.

- -

Derek didn’t expect to come back to his apartment that night and find a boy tied up in a chair in the middle of the room. In fact, he didn’t expect to come back to his apartment and find that. Ever.

For a moment, he just stood there. His keys dangled from his fingers and he was pretty sure his mouth had dropped open. The boy was clearly unconscious, heart beating slowly and a thin line of drool running down his chin. His wrists were bound to each of the chair’s arms and he didn’t look any older than twenty. Or maybe he was even younger than eighteen. Derek couldn’t quite tell.

Derek stared for a moment longer and then snapped back to reality as Laura came strolling out of the kitchen, wiping her hands off on a dishcloth. She was smiling and raised an eyebrow as her eyes snapped from Derek, to the boy, and then back. Something mischievous danced in her eyes.

“Hey there, little bro. Have a good day off?”

“Laura, what the hell is this.”

“This?”

“That,” Derek said, gesturing in frustration at the boy. “It, him, whatever. Why the hell is there a teenager tied up in our living room?”

“Oh,” Laura said, smirking. She settled down on the couch and rested her chin on her hands, eyeing the kid. “His name is Stiles. I think he goes to Beacon Community College.”

None of that information did Derek any good. He stared at her for a long moment, not quite sure Laura hadn’t completely lost her mind.

“Laura,” Derek said carefully. “Why have you kidnapped and tied up a college student?”

“Smell him.”

Derek blinked. That had not been what he’d expected to hear. “What.”

“Smell him, Der. Just do it.”

Derek gave his sister a long look before moving toward the kid. If this was her idea of a joke, then he was definitely moving out. Except, when Derek leaned closer and took a deep whiff, he was yanking back in the second. The kid smelled the cinnamon and autumn leaves, and all of that was fine. But he also smelled like electricity. Electricity and the unmistakable scent of a strange Alpha.

“What is he,” Derek said in a growl. Laura smiled all teeth.

“Human.”

“But he smells—”

“Spark, maybe,” she amended. “One with an Alpha.”

“How’d you come across him?”

“He came into our bar.”

Derek felt his hackles rise and glanced back at the boy. His heartbeat was picking up a little and Derek could tell he was on the verge of waking up. Which could either be a good thing, or something very bad. “Laura, are you sure this is a good—”

Amber eyes snapped open and the kid made a noise between a squawk and a squeak.

This was a terrible idea.

“Oh my god!” Stiles said, trying to yank away. Except, he was firmly bound to the chair and Derek knew he wasn’t going anywhere. Clearly, the kid realized that too because his heartbeat picked up and his scent soured with fear.

Derek wrinkled his nose and took a step back. Stiles looked at him in terror.

“Are you going to kill me? Please don’t kill me. I have money! A little bit of money. Please, just let me go.”

Derek gave Laura a flat look and she grinned, pushing herself up and moving over. Stiles made another noise of panic and wiggled around in his chair.

“We’re not going to kill you,” Laura said. “As long as you answer our questions correctly.”

Derek resisted the urge to facepalm.

“Okay,” Stiles said, babbling. “Okay, okay, I can do that. I can answer questions correctly! I mean, as long as they’re not insanely hard questions. Like, I suck at math. But I’m really good at memorizing old and unimportant facts, so I’m pretty excellent in history. Are you going to ask me questions about history?”

This was such a terrible idea. Laura glanced over and her expression was nothing but amused. Derek wanted to say that this was all her fault.

Then she turned back toward Stiles and flashed her red eyes, and Derek flashed his blue ones. Stiles froze, heartbeat picking up in pace again, and Laura’s smile widened. For a moment, the kid just stared at them. And then he picked up in his struggles all over again.

“Oh my god, oh my god, why is it always me? Why am I always the one kidnapped? How is that even fair?”

“Stop struggling,” Derek said, crossing his arms. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“And why the hell do you care, Mr. Werewolf? You’re the one that kidnapped me! Probably to kill me or something even worse.”

“There’s something even worse?”

“I don’t know! This is like an every other week occurrence now!”

Derek’s eyebrows flew up and Laura looked intrigued. Stiles finally stopped struggling after a few more tries, slumping in his seat and going lax in submission. But when Laura stepped closer, he flinched a little.

Derek wasn’t sure why that bothered him.

“So,” Stiles said, voice small now. “What is it, huh? You want to know about Scott and his pack? Because I’ll die before I hand them over. I just hope you know that.”

And Laura stilled. She glanced back at Derek, but he didn’t have any words. Gently, she laid a hand on Stiles’s shoulder. He shivered. “I told you we’re not going to hurt you.”

“But you do want to know about Scott?” Stiles sounded bitter.

“We don’t even know who Scott is,” Derek said. “But you went into Laura’s bar smelling like another Alpha werewolf. Usually… that’s a warning of future conflict to come.”

Stiles looked at him in surprise. Then he glanced at Laura and tilted his head. “Laura, huh? Well, at least I get one of the names of my kidnappers before I die.”

Laura rolled her eyes. “I’m Laura and that’s my little brother, Derek. And he’s right. You should know better than to walk into a wolf’s territory smelling like another wolf.”

“Well I didn’t know you were a werewolf,” Stiles said in a grumble. “Although I guess that would make sense. You’re seriously scary. And strong.”

That startled a laugh out of his sister. Derek just narrowed his eyes and stared.

He didn’t know what to make of this kid.

“I seriously just wanted a drink,” Stiles said. “Guess it’s a good thing Scott didn’t come with me, though. Would that have started like, a pack war? Oh my god, would you have ripped our throats out?”

“Your Alpha would’ve realized I was a wolf,” Laura said. “But it wouldn’t have been good.”

“Oh,” Stiles said. “He’s not my Alpha. I mean, not really. He’s my best friend and I’ve basically saved his werewolf ass a dozen times these past few years, but I’m kind of distanced from the supernatural stuff. I still get kidnapped, but that’s just life, you know?”

Derek stared at him. Because that wasn’t just life.

Laura seemed baffled too.

“So, can you cut me out of the ropes now?” Stiles asked, glancing between them. “Because scary brows was right and I think I did hurt myself just a little bit. You tied these things really tight.”

“Scary brows?” the words tumbled out of Derek’s mouth before he could stop them. Stiles looked at him with a smirk and shrugged.

“Dude, the eyebrows. Very scary. A little sexy. Probably shouldn’t be such a turn on.”

And Derek felt his face turn hot.

Laura choked on a laugh and leaned forward, slicing through the ropes with a claw. Stiles grinned, rubbing at his slightly red wrists. He pushed himself up and glanced around, before whistling appreciatively.

“Nice place you’ve got here. So running a bar comes with some perks, then?”

“Some,” Laura said, sounding amused. “Sorry for kidnapping you.”

“It’s fine,” Stiles said, waving a hand through the air. He started to wander around the apartment and Derek didn’t know how to react to that either, as he touched things that didn’t belong to him and even poked his head into the kitchen before coming out with a grin. “It happens a lot.”

“You do realize it shouldn’t,” Derek said, the words spilling out before he could stop them once more. “Right?’

Stiles arched a brow at him. “I mean, I guess?”

“You guess.”

“Come on, dude, squishy human here! When you smell like the werewolf that people seriously like to attempt to kill for some reason, it just makes sense. I’ve seen witches, warlocks, and a fair amount of hunters. I think they’re the worst.”

Derek stared at him. For some reason, he wanted to snarl at those words. But at the same time, he couldn’t wrap his head around Stiles and the words that he was saying.

“I mean, it’s usually fine,” Stiles said. “I’m not dead yet, so…”

Derek didn’t know what to say and what to do. From Laura’s face, she didn’t either. Stiles finished his self-tour of the apartment and glanced toward the door.

“So, am I allowed to leave then? This has been quite fun and all, but I’ve got classes tomorrow. And I, uh, haven’t studied for my Psych exam yet.”

Derek wasn’t sure why, but the idea of the kid leaving now that he had admitted all these things made Derek uncomfortable. Next to him, Laura seemed to be thinking the same thing. Because shewed on her lower lip for a second before shaking her head.

“No, sorry, you are kidnapped now. Consider this an intervention.”

Stiles’s heart skipped a beat. He froze in place and studied them both before chuckling nervously. “You’re joking, right? This is a joke. Ha-ha, very funny.”

“I’m not kidding,” Laura said. “Derek, grab more rope.”

Stiles’s eyes rounded and he took a step back, throwing up his hands. Derek hesitated, giving his sister a questioning look, and she raised an eyebrow. But then Stiles was babbling again.

“Okay, okay, okay, look,” he said. “It’s really not that big of a deal. You can’t kidnap a guy for getting kidnapped! That’s counterproductive! And my dad’s the Sheriff. He’d be severely pissed and probably throw both of you in jail.”

Laura huffed a laugh. Stiles slowly lowered his hands.

“You’re not really keeping me here, are you?”

“The Alpha’s not your Alpha,” Derek said through gritted teeth. “But you still get involved and get hurt.”

“Well, he is my best friend.”

“Some best friend.”

“I’m sorry, Sourwolf, what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Derek blinked at the nickname. Laura looked like she was trying not to choke on a laugh again and Stiles crossed the room, poking a finger into Derek’s chest. He resisted the urge to snap at Stiles’s hand.

“Scotty would be dead a thousand times over if not for me. And don’t forget that I never ask to be kidnapped! If a bullseye on my back is what happens for protecting my best friend’s life, then I’ll take it. You don’t have the right to dictate my life!”

Derek glared at him. Laura quickly stepped forward.

“Fine,” she said, surprising them both. “You’ve made your decision, you can go. We’re not going to hold you back.”

Stiles looked suspiciously at her and slowly lowered his hand. He glanced back at Derek, then over at the door. “Really?”

“Really. Do you need a ride somewhere? We’re only a block down from the bar.”

Stiles eyed her again. Then he moved toward the door and placed one hand on the knob as if he expected her to suddenly change her mind. Derek didn’t know what the hell his sister was up to, but he really didn’t think Stiles should be walking out right now.

He also didn’t know why he cared. That was stupid. So stupid.

“Go ahead,” Laura said. Stiles twisted the knob and opened the door.

Derek could hear Stiles’s heartbeat pick up in pace as he placed one foot out into the hall, still watching them. Then he placed the other. He was half leaning into the apartment now and a small grin cracked across his face as he realized Laura was serious. His suspicious attitude melted away and he straightened.

“Well, thanks for the kidnapping then. This was fun, we should do it again! Except not. Because you both still scare me.”

Laura’s smile was all teeth and Derek just stood there. Stiles grinned at him, blowing a kiss, then the boy was stepping back, the door swung closed, and Derek blinked at it.

Then he rounded on his sister. But before he could get a word out, she lifted a finger.

Silence reigned for a moment. Laura waited for another few seconds and then sighed, dropping her hand. She started toward the kitchen and Derek chased after her.

“Laura, what the hell was tha—”

“I’m taking you off your shift tomorrow,” Laura said. “Also, Stiles’s jacket is in a heap next to the door. I trust that should be enough for you to find his scent again?”

Derek blinked at her. Laura smirked.

“If his Alpha best friend won’t keep an eye on him then we will.”

“You’re willing to do that for the kid.”

His sister shrugged and started making herself tea as if this as a normal everyday occurrence. Derek was pretty sure it wasn’t. But then again, he didn’t Stiles was a normal everyday occurrence.

“I like him,” Laura said. And that seemed to be that.

And… maybe it was.

Derek turned back to look at the door, along with the red hoodie that laid in a crumpled heap next to it, and he couldn’t believe this had become his evening. He hadn’t expected any of this. Ever.

But that seemed to be that.

- -

So, I didn’t mean for this to reach 3k words, but here we are. I had a lot of fun with the prompt! And honestly, I could see there being a pt2 or something. Which might have to happen at some point ;)

(if you enjoy my writing, consider supporting your underpaid student writer? Seriously, I’d adore you guys so much). https://ko-fi.com/rh27writer

#sterek #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #derek hale #laura hale #prompts #theladyandthewolves #ficlet

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