#how many millions of dollars is that dress worth. fuck you

[tendercoretroglodyke]

sorry but fuck the met gala

[the-froschamethyst4]

How much!?

𖤐Pairing: Billionaire! Alejandro x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: fluff, hints of smut, rich man Alejandro, language, married couple,

𖤐Summary: When shopping on her own, Y/n sees a beautiful necklace but it was extremely expensive, does she gets it without Alejandro's permission or does she ask?

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Alejandro was at the office and Y/n was getting ready for a shopping spree, she does this every now and then, Alejandro gives her his American Express card and she can spend as much as she wants.

But Y/n never hits the millions or anything, she barely reaches $100,000 the most she spent on was a home store looking for new house decorations and a few new things for the house.

But shopping for new clothes was kind of a different story, she spends as much as her heart desires and Alejandro watches those bank charge stack and he doesn't care as long as his wife was happy he's happy.

Y/n had bags on her arms as she just left Prada with a few new bags, Gucci sunglasses, belts and a dress, LV shoes, YSL shoes and bags, you name Y/n probably just bought it.

As she walked around a jewelry store caught her eye, she needed to get her wedding ring cleaned up.

"Hi ma'am," a lady says walking towards her.

"Hi, I need my wedding ring polished."

"Oh yes, let me see the ring." Y/n placed her hand out and the consultant looked at the ring.

"Lovely ring, your husband has good taste."

"Thank you," she takes her ring off and hands it to the consultant. Y/n walks around the store to look at the jewelry.

A necklace with pearls was on display, it looked like something a Queen or Princess would wear, it was magnificent to look at.

"Are you finding everything alright, ma'am?"

"Yes. This necklace is beautiful."

"I know, a new piece of ours, it goes for $25,000,000."

"Wow, I can see that," the man looks at the bags in Y/n's hands and smiled.

"Would you like to try it on?"

"What? No way, that's so expensive," Y/n says.

"Ma'am you are carrying bags that are worth for 5,000k, I do not mind if you try it on." He says.

"Umm~ if it's alright," he smiles and puts on some silk white gloves, and took it off the black velvet neck stand, and placing it on Y/n's neck, everyone in the store watched how the necklace complemented Y/n's skin and eyes.

"Wow."

"Gorgeous."

"Would you like it miss?" He asks her.

Y/n stares at herself in the mirror moving her head around to get it from better angles on her neck. She didn't even want to touch it or LOOK at it.

Alejandro was tapping his pen against his desk, taking a deep breath and looked out the window that was behind him, he was bored out of his MIND. He wanted to go home and be with his wife and see what she bought.

Alejandro loves having his own personal fashion show when it came to his wife.

Just thinking about her wearing a new LV dress hugging her body just right made him feel...all over the place.

His phone pinged and saw a HUGE charge to his card. His eyes widened and immediately started to call Y/n, she wasn't answering.

"Y/n, what the hell," he mumbles.

Y/n looked at him calling her phone, she just stares at her phone knowing she might have fucked up. Her fingers in her hair as she stares and stares and stares.

The next time he calls, she will answer which didn't take long, she took a deep breath and answered.

"Alejandro."

"Precioso (gorgeous) what was that charge to my phone?" Alejandro sounded like he was trying to stay calm.

"Umm~ Ale, I can explain."

"Start." He says.

"I was just trying to clean my ring and I got caught up in looking at a necklace and spent-"

"25 MILLION DOLLARS!" The calm was broken.

"I'm sorry," she apologized.

"Mi amor," he groans and rubs his temple. "How many times have I told you...BREAK MY BANK!!"

"Huh?" So he wasn't mad?

"You can spend higher, why didn't you?"

"I-I-I...I'm c-confused what?"

"I've told you many times to spend higher and 25 million was all you could do? Mi Corazón (my heart) I want you to make me go broke, a dollar in my bank account broke, I'll get it back, you know I will."

Y/n was so confused.

"B-But-"

"No buts, next time you go shopping break my bank account, anyways, I love you, I have to go, see you at home," he hangs up.

Her phone falls from her hand and looked at the necklace sitting on the black velvet neck stand.

---------

4:00PM

Alejandro was coming home now and Y/n was trying on the new clothes she bought looking at herself in her full body mirror, turning and looking to see how she looks in the back and seeing if her girls in the front looked perfect as well.

"Starting the show without me?" Alejandro asked, placing his blazer on the back of the black leather chair in the shared master bedroom.

"I was going to wait, but you were taking forever," she teased, walking towards him and sitting on his lap. Her arms wrap around his neck as his hands rested on her waist. "You look fucking stunning," he leans forward kissing her neck.

"Thank you, now do you want this fashion show or not?"

"Yes, ma'am," he leans back as she got off his lap, he pours himself a glass of whiskey and watched her come out in a new dress and new heels.

"YSL?" He asks. She just nods, turning to the mirror and looking at it.

Alejandro loves seeing his wife like this, he turns and saw the black velvet neck stand holding the necklace, she bought.

"Ohh~ so that was the 25 million dollar purchase," he points to the necklace.

"Yeah."

"It's pretty." He says, taking a sip from his glass and looking back at her.

"I know, he said it was new and I was technically the first person to wear it," she says sounding excited which made Alejandro smile.

Alejandro placed his glass down and grabbed the necklace off the stand and walked up behind Y/n. Moving it to the front of her neck and clasping it. He stares at her in the mirror.

"It suits you perfectly, mi amor," he kisses her neck and held her against his chest.

"A-Alejandro...I'm not done."

"You still have more?" He asks.

"I bought a lot," she says, with an innocent smile on her face.

"Alright, show me more," he smirks as she walks to her walk-in closet, her door slightly opened and he could see her half naked body.

--------

10:00PM

Y/n and Alejandro were going to an expensive dinner tonight, she was wearing her new dress and new YSL shoes with a new Prada bag and of course that necklace she bought. Alejandro held her hand as they walked in, they were immediately sat because of the restaurant knowing who they both were.

Alejandro and his gorgeously stunning wife.

He sits her down first before going to his chair across from her, they were given a wine menu but Alejandro ordered them a bottle of King Louis XIII, one of the most expensive bottles they have, it reaches to $23,000.

"Do you know what you want?" Alejandro asked.

"I think I'll switch it up tonight from lobster to maybe a beef wellington?"

"A wellington? Normally you don't get it."

"I know, but like I said switching it up," she gives him a soft smile.

"Here is your wine, now what can I get started for you both?" The waiter asked.

"I'll take Kobe beef, they way I like it." Alejandro started.

"Of course, you miss?"

"Could I have bluefin tuna?"

"Of course, now I will be right back," he says.

"Bluefin?"

"Is that okay?"

"Of course, mi amor," he holds her hand and kissed her knuckles.

--------

A few Hours Later

Alejandro and Y/n talked, drink, and ate their dinner and now Alejandro and Y/n were heading down the street just for some ice cream, an expensive dinner with cheap ice cream to fill them up.

It was always something they both did after eating at the restaurant was to eat dinner and go down the road for some ice cream.

It was mainly because Alejandro would treat his wife to everything she could ask for, and when they first met Y/n didn't come from money so the expensive date use to overwhelm her and then afterwards she showed him to an ice cream parlor she came to a lot when she was a little girl.

And to bring back memories and recreate their own Alejandro made it possible for her and in hopes one day they can still do it when they have kids and get older together.

Alejandro and Y/n sat on a metal bench enjoying their ice cream, she snuggled into his side, his hand hand holding his cone and the other resting on her hip.

"Did you like the dinner?" She nods.

"I like dessert better." She smiles up at him.

"One day, I hope we will come here with our kids and when we grow old and gray we will still come here," he says, looking down at her.

"Of course we will, Alejandro," she leans up and kisses his lips.

[bellafarallones2]

Promptober Day 11: Someone who made a deal with a demon/fae for money or fame, twenty years ago tonight

(SFW, but there are references to drug overdose/general poor mental health)

The show was over, and Indrid Cold was alone in his dressing room. The mirrors lining the walls, surrounded with lightbulbs, made the large room seem even larger. There were plush couches and armchairs to seat at least eight, all unoccupied except for the man sprawled out on one of the sofas, his shirt riding up to show the silver piercing through his navel. 

And now, a demon. Indrid saw him first reflected in one of the mirrors - red skin, horns rising from his wavy chestnut hair - and then looked around to see him in person. His eyes were unsettlingly human - Indrid would feel better if they looked demonic. His name was Duck Newton, a name Indrid hadn’t spoken or written for twenty years but still had never forgotten. 

“So, uh, how’s it going for you?” said the demon. 

The most famous rock star in the world glared balefully up at him through his smudged stage makeup. “How do you think it’s going?” 

“I was sorry to hear about your boyfriend,” the demon offered. 

Indrid grunted. For the past eight months he’d been in a very public relationship with another celebrity, a country music star. Until two weeks ago, that was, when the country music star had overdosed and been posthumously revealed to have been cheating on Indrid with no less than three other people.

“Were y’all real? Or was it just for the tabloids?”

“I thought we were real,” said Indrid. He took a handful from the bowl of peanut M&Ms on the coffee table and crunched on them. “What’s with the small talk? Aren’t you going to just take me?”

“I figured it was polite to give you some time to process things.”

“I’ve had twenty years to process things.”

“Was it all worth it?”

Indrid gave a short laugh. “In a sense.”

Duck sat down across from him and took a couple of M&Ms.

“Twenty years was plenty of time. If you really wanted me to fight being taken you should have made the timeline shorter.”

“So you’re ready?”

“Fuck yeah I am.” 

Duck’s tail flicked against the upholstery. “You’ll have to take out the silver jewelry.”

“Would it really protect me from you?” said Indrid with some interest as he removed the ring from his navel and set it down on the coffee table with a small clink. 

“Not really. I’d just have to rip it out, which wouldn’t be pleasant.”

“Fuck no it wouldn’t be.” Indrid pulled his shirt up to his collarbone to remove the bars from his nipples, and then the six tiny rings from one ear, the silver serpent curling around the other. 

“Good?” said Duck when Indrid had removed the rings from his fingers.

“Nope,” said Indrid, and unbuttoned his jeans. 

“Oh, Christ,” said Duck, and averted his eyes as Indrid removed the Prince Albert from his cock. It took some doing. Indrid was a little surprised at the demon’s modesty.

“Yeah, I went all out. I thought it might protect me from you.” This was, of course, back when Indrid thought he had something to live for.

“Nope,” said Duck. He reached out a hand across the small midden of silver on the table between them. “Now are you ready?”

Indrid took his hand. “Yep." 

–

Twenty years ago, that night, Indrid had just been booed out of his third open mic night in as many weeks and his dad was threatening to kick him out of his basement unless he got a real job. So he opened the book of spells he’d bought at a garage sale when he was twelve to the page reading MINERVA: GODDESS OF FAME AND FORTUNE and lit a ring of white candles. 

The demon that appeared certainly hadn’t looked like a Minerva, with beefy arms and a potbelly. “...Minerva?” said Indrid.

The demon sighed. “I’m Duck. She fucked off and left me in charge. What do you want?”

“I want to be the most famous rock star in the world. I want to make millions of dollars and for everyone in the world to have heard my music. I want my music to be good.”

The demon’s face softened. “Your music is already good.” 

“Yeah, well, not good enough.” 

“Fine,” said Duck. “And you’re willing to give up your soul for it?” 

“Yes,” said Indrid. “It says here you’ll come to collect in twenty years.” He was twenty. Twenty years in the future was unimaginable. 

Duck was looking skeptical again. “And you’re really alright with that?”

“Yes.” 

“Alright,” said Duck, and held out his hand for a handshake. 

Indrid got a call from a record label the next day. 

–

They plummeted together through the layers of the earth, down into Hell, through red sulfurous clouds, and Indrid doubled over coughing. He didn’t catch his breath again, eyes streaming, until after his feet touched the ground. Then he looked up. “Woah.” 

Hell was less like a Bosch painting than he’d been imagining. Sure, the sky was red, and the dirt was also red, but there were no writhing masses of suffering bodies, at least not that he could see. In fact most of what he could see was gently rounded mountains, carpeted with trees. And, directly in front of him, a well-built log cabin with checkered curtains in the windows. 

“Is this where I’m going to be eternally tormented?” Indrid asked. 

“Nah,” said Duck. “If you’d been a real asshole there’d be some torment, but not for you.” 

“So what are you going to do to me?” 

“...That part I ain’t quite figured out. See, just having souls is sort of a… status symbol among demons.”

“How many do you have?”

“Counting you? One. See, when I made that deal with you, I was only standing in for Minerva for a few weeks. And then I went back to my other job.”

“Which is?” 

“Forestry.”

Indrid giggled. “Holy shit.” 

“It’s not like I’ve been neglectful! I, um. I watched all your shows.”

“All of them?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re good.”

Indrid didn’t quite know what to say. He was no stranger to praise over the years, but he knew it all was because of Duck. “Did whatever magic you cast on everyone to make me famous work on you, too?”

“No. Here, c’mon inside.” Duck led Indrid up the steps and into the cabin. It looked to be just three rooms - a bedroom, bathroom, and open-plan kitchen/dining/living area. Duck went into the bedroom, opened the top dresser drawer, and pulled out a mess of gold jewelry. “I got you replacements for your piercings if you want to keep them in. Uh, except for the dick one. I didn’t know about that one.”

“You don’t read the tabloids?” Indrid teased as he reassembled the metal parts of himself. “That’s fair. I think now it’s mostly stories about how old and unattractive and washed-up I am.” 

“Is that really how you see yourself?” said Duck.

Indrid examined himself in the mirror on the back of Duck’s closet door. Yes, that was what he saw. He’d never been muscular, but now he just looked skeletal. The dark hollows under his eyes seemed permanent now. And his voice had been damaged by years of screaming into a microphone. 

Indrid turned away from the mirror. Maybe if he ignored his appearance it would go away. Maybe he could be young and attractive again. He’d been hoping, deep down, that being sent to hell he’d revert to the body he had twenty years ago. No such luck. 

“I think you’re just as handsome now as you ever were,” said Duck.

There was still something gold in the dresser drawer. “What’s this?” said Indrid, pulling it out.

“Nothing!” said Duck. “Nothing.”

“Handcuffs? And a collar?” The gold was thin, but far sturdier than it would be without demonic magic. “Are these for me?”

“No! I mean. Uh.” Duck scratched his neck. “Look, I went to a goldsmith and said I wanted stuff for a human and she insisted I needed those too. Apparently folks like to keep their humans restrained. But you don’t have to. Unless, uh, unless you cause me a lot of problems.” Duck rearranged his face into something more menacing. “Then it’s into the handcuffs you go.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Indrid slipped the cuffs and collar back into the drawer. Then he went back into the living room. There was a stereo in there and he was curious what kind of music Duck listened to, what kind of radio signal you might get in Hell, but before he could turn on the stereo the box of CDs next to it caught his attention. Flipping through them, he saw a lot of bands he himself liked listening to, old rock he’d found inspirational, and newer stuff too. And then - his own music, too. His albums. Every single one of them, arranged by year of release. “Do you actually listen to my stuff?”

“Of course I do.” 

“Do you have a favorite?” Indrid said, idly flipping through again. Christ, he looked good on the cover of the first album. The most recent ones didn’t have his face on them; he didn’t photograph well anymore. Most critics thought the music had been getting worse ever since his sophomore album, but that had never stopped him from making music. The songs just kept coming. Probably a result of whatever Duck had done to him. 

“Your most recent one. Bug Venom.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah. I like Bumblebee. It’s a lot more positive than a lot of political songs.” 

“If you’ve got a guitar around here I’d be happy to give you a live performance. Unless your gift doesn’t apply anymore now that I’m dead.”

“Indrid, I did nothing to your ability to play. Don’t talk that way about yourself.”

Indrid looked up again and looked, really looked, at the demon in front of him. There was an expression in Duck’s eyes that Indrid knew well from groupies and admirers of all kinds, though as far as he could remember he hadn’t seen it on anyone for about fifteen years. Duck was attracted to him. 

“What does Minerva do with her souls?” Indrid asked. 

“She puts them to work. Trains them to fight her enemies and all that. But I don’t really get into all that. And you seem like you could use a break. After two decades of touring and all.” 

Indrid carefully kissed Duck’s very warm cheek. “You’re sweet.”

[theveryworstthing]

So over on patreon Trevor asked for my take on the Addams Family and I grew up LOVING the Addams family movies so here we are. Instead of doing a straight up style interpretation, I decided to do a full on design challenge, using the characters as bases to make a black southern gothic Addams au. I actually drew the kids first, using the character bases of Wednesday and Pugsley to create some delightful kiddos I'm calling Sunday and Blanche. I of course then redesigned Gomez and Morticia into Carlisle and Mortesha.

The Addams have a very specific high aristocratic goth aesthetic (they've got a butler and nobody really works among other things) so in this re-imagining I wanted to go with vibes that run a little more middle class/upper middle class.  I thought it would be interesting to think about what would be considered weird and off-putting in an entirely different culture, and how being a big ol' goth is way less controversial than it used to be.

I tried to keep this short (HAHAHAHAHAHA) so I didn't spin off into an essay about villain coded families, black people in the horror genre, and normalcy as it pertains to social survival, but just...bits of that are in these designs and lore. Keep that in mind.

Also I made the kids twins because they've flip flopped in age so much in different media and also twins run in my family (i'm the daughter of one). And let's face it, I'm pulling a lot of their southern gothic traits from living as a southern goth so *shrug*.

10 thousand pounds of lore incoming loooooooooool.

The Parents

From the moment he saw her he knew that there was a 50/50 chance of him either never making it out of that swamp alive or marrying the figure that was creeping out from under the distant willow tree in a black cocktail dress. The third time she found him trussed up in one of her traps, he complimented her rope work and asked if she'd like to go out sometime after his head wound stopped bleeding.

Or while it was still bleeding.

If she was into that.

Some kids and a mysteriously burnt down Piggly Wiggly later, their love is still as strong and inescapable as a bear trap in a sink hole.

Carlisle Guillermo (now Addams through marriage but I wanted to give him two first names for a name since Gomez has two last names) makes a vaguely described living practicing ‘law’ around town. A loophole king, people come to him from miles around with contracts signed in blood, fights over chunks of hair buried in their rivals’ yard, dehydrated primate hands, memories that seemed like dreams until the evidence of their happenings became too real, and other regular Legal Items asking for counsel which he is all too happy to give. For a price. Sometimes that price is a homemade pie and sometimes it’s a million dollars, depends on who you are. Whatever you’re asked to pay it’s worth that price, and if you try to scam him out of work or he just plain doesn’t like you? Well. He knows how to twist a contract better than anything at the crossroads.

And he always gets his due.

He doesn’t just serve the local (living)humans though, there are many things that need proper legal representation in this day and age. You wouldn’t believe how many city councils try to build on sacred burial grounds even after he lets them know that his ghostly clients are totally gonna haunt the FUCK out of the ensuing shitty condos and curse their families for all eternity. At least 50% of his energy goes towards dealing with real estate bullshit.

Carl is an excitable and good natured(?) man who loves his family, cigars, dancing, and his many knife-based hobbies. People find him very charming once they get past the feeling that they’re talking to a sultry gator badly disguising itself as a human. I didn’t put a ton of deep thought into designing him, mostly I wanted to make a middle aged dude who looked like he would have been voted ‘most likely to smooch the literal devil’ in high school. Tbh he probably has, but no demonic ex’s can compare to his lovely wife~

Mortesha Addams(her name was already perfect so I just tweaked it)is a woman of many talents. A self proclaimed homemaker, she prides herself on a greenhouse full of Concerning Foliage, a beautiful wasp apiary, and a coop full of what are probably chickens that she keeps for what are probably eggs. She’s also an avid creator of the outsider art that can be seen around the estate. She has taken on the family business of selling her homemade goods in a little stall by the road just outside the swamp with her mom, and makes pretty good money doing so. A surprising amount of poison gets bought in quaint southern towns.

Speaking of poison, people who come out to the edge of the swamp to buy it are usually carrying a lot of secrets around, and Mortesha knows most of them. It’s not like she pries the truth out of people, it just so happens that many nervous hellos eventually turn into the tragic backstory power hour if she’s alone with a client for long enough. She supposes that’s just how people are. Despite the fact that the Addams are very active in the community (whether the community likes it or not) she especially, as a direct descendant of the first Addams matriarch, is seen as…Well not an outsider because the community feels A Certain Way about outsiders and despite it all the Addams are their people, but maybe something like an exception. They feel like whatever weirdness they’re hiding can’t be weirder than any given Addams, so they get a little loose with their words.

This is amusing to her, since Addams’ don’t naturally keep the kind dramatic secrets that their surface level prim and proper neighbors do. It’s much more fun to openly talk about those things.

Do they have a sadly decrepit yet terrifying grandma up in the attic? Yeah, like three. They got a tv, all the creepy porcelain dolls they could want, and they’re close to family. Where do you keep your gram-grams?

Any bodies buried on the property? Yeah some, but most are thrown to the gators.

Any creeping through the balmy summer night with ill intentions? Yeah dude, everyone loves a nice family stroll.

What about dangerous forbidden love? If an adult Addams isn’t incorporeal then they’re either queer or in a torrid romance with some person/thing mysteriously drawn to that awful swamp. Sometimes both at the same time. Most times actually.

Mortesha would know.

The current head of the Addams family is just as outgoing as her husband but a lot quieter and harder to read. She never really seems to get mad about much and always has a genteel smile for everyone whether they deserve it or not. A seven foot tall human shaped “Oh, bless your heart”. A perfectly composed Lady even when she’s, oh I dunno, burning down a Piggly Wiggly. You know. A regular southern mom. Chat her up at the hair salon for 50% off a jar of wasp honey with your next purchase of a mysterious but foreboding packet of herbs.

Designing her was pretty easy because I just drew a lankier Grace Jones and called it a day. I had some problems with her outfit simply because if we were going HARD southern gothic then she’d probably be wearing a white/cream dress with a fuller skirt but I thought keeping the silhouette and the black was more important. She’s supposed to be an anti southern gothic southern gothic character anyway. A woman who looks like she has a million secrets who is actually the most open person you could meet. For better or worse. The red hair came from a coloring error that I really ended up liking (my mom had red hair her whole childhood that only darkened up in high school so I can buy that an Addams can be naturally fire engine red) and the veil was to get more of that classic Morticia silhouette in there.

The Children

Sunday and Blanche are the twin children of Carlisle and Mortesha Addams. Some say the Addams clan got their cursed homestead when a wealthy local businessman made a deal with the devil and lost, leaving his grand mansion to his least favorite maid and cutting his losses once he realized that the swamp would do everything it could to drag the house into the water and take what was owed with its horrible curse. Others say that the family has just always squatted there and no one really cares because man, fuck that particular swamp. Have you been in there? Absolute horror show.

Anyway.

Blanche is the more outgoing sibling and quite the engineer/mad scientist in the making. He started going grey at 2 weeks old but considering he was also rocking some extra fingers, toes, and a tiny tail (he takes after his dad), his parents just put it on the 'not life threatening' pile and decided not to worry about it. He's the kind of smart that teachers find utterly infuriating, less a dog eagerly learning and obeying commands and more a hyena who keeps teaching itself how to pick locks. He has a few friends in his school's robotics club (which they honestly allowed him to make so the school could contain his... creations) but mostly hangs out with his sister exploring the swamp. They find all sorts of neat things in there! wedding rings, suspiciously lumpy garbage bags, cloaked cultists who can't read private property signs, it's an adventure every day!

Blanche is all about experimentation with his creations, his look, and his tether to this mortal coil. Is lipstick a cool thing to try? Let's find out. Can he get out of a strait jacket fast enough after being pushed into the depths of the swamp by his sister? let's find out. He's not dead yet and confused local doctors can attest to the fact that he's rarely attained more than a bad bruise so he's pretty set on continuing to kiss rattlesnakes on their cute little heads and have his sister practice her knife throwing at him until that fact changes.

Blanche is very much a country goth. Cowboy boots (customized by his mom), knife, and lighter are daily accessories. He likes to wear the crusty swamp jewelry they find (the rust adds a splash of color!) and despite appearances he does try to keep himself neat. He's just got  natural Grunge Colors and a tendency to wear clothes he likes until they fall apart. Pugsley always seemed the most modernly styled to me (which might just be because little boys clothes have been the same for a long time) so I wanted Blanche to be the most purposely fashionable Addams. Everyone else is goth by nature, but he's the only one truly familiar with goth as an alternative fashion.

I got really into designing Blanche because honestly, I find Pugsley to be the most boring member of the family. And he was hard to design! I had to mess with his vibe a lot to get him looking how I wanted. I know he's supposed to evoke an " 'evil' little boy next door who's parents never reign him in", but that's just goth Dennis The Menace.  I's 2020. We can at least go queer goth Calvin.

Sunday was much easier to design. Wednesday was my favorite as a child (of course) and I really wanted to keep the spirit of her look while adding things like billowy sleeves (it gets HOT down here), big poofy twists instead of braids, and a nice tie. She's a professional after all, been running the local pet cemetery since she was 6 and the previous groundskeeper met with an unfortunate accident after telling her that tarantulas don't have souls. Her specialty is creating beautiful naturalistic animal funerals similar to those that Maquenda (https://linktr.ee/artofmaquenda) makes, and she takes pride in creating miniature dioramas of her subjects after each burial which she uses as a kind of 3D catalog for future clients.

She really wants to try out her skills on humans one day. Well. Publicly try out her skills. Lotta random bodies float into the swamp. None of them have turned down her requests for diorama models so far. Most seem downright flattered. Plus, she usually figures out which graveyard/crime scene they floated over from and gets her parents to give them a lift back. She'll even help enact terrifying revenge from beyond the grave on whoever put them there if she's not, y'know, busy.

Besides arts, crafts, and pet based funerary arrangements, Sunday is an avid lover of archery (any ranged weapon really), books where little fantasy adventure animals die dramatic deaths, and history. She is That Kid who eagerly raises her hand when asked who Christopher Columbus was and ends up being sent out of class after 15 minutes for making 'a scene'. Her favorite party trick is just picking an item in the room and talking about how it relates to either some obscure historical figure with a buck wild life or a horrible disaster. At least one charity pancake breakfast ended with children in tears after her vivid description of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919.

Social-wise, while Wednesday is the girl that people ask to smile because they think she'd, "look so pretty", Sunday is rarely asked anything at all. People just kind of assume from her quiet nature (in between horrible history facts) that she's angry all the time and that she hates everyone. This is untrue. She hates some people but she's ambivalent to most everyone else and even downright friendly if you bother to talk to her like a person instead of a terrifying cryptid. Like, she IS a terrifying cryptid but she's also a little girl.  

That’s about it for now. One day I might do the other family members but for now I’m happy with the four I’ve redesigned. Making an au! Lurch in a family that doesn’t do butlers could be interesting. Over on patreon I put forth that he could just be Motesha’s mute little brother (similar bone structure) but Amy Crook had the nice idea of quote: “ a mysterious "cousin" that "helps around the house" whose origins are both long in the past and faintly unsettling. He's good for lifting heavy things, like that tank of propane you're about to throw into the burning Piggly Wiggly... “ which i now consider canon. Who's kid is he? How old is he? Not important. Anyone willing to commit arson with you is family.

Annnnyway.  This challenge was a lot of fun! I love indulging in AU’s.

[levanterhaze]

✧ HOW TO LOVE WITH BTS (HYUNG LINE)

→ jin x reader | yoongi x reader | namjoon x reader | hoseok x reader

→ just a drabble with how the hyung line demonstrates affection & love

→ warning: light smut, nothing to worry about and most fluffly things

kim seokjin, expensive gifts

everything about this man is about wealth and elegance. jin definitely likes to flaunt his fancy suits, imported cars, and lush jewelry, but he prefers to do it all when it comes to you. yes, he sends gifts to your workplace and everyone’s keep wondering what's in that little Versace bag. he constantly gives you distinct gifts, the most extravagant. jewelry, high heels, dresses, bags. but he never does it to show that he obviously has money, but because he wants you to have a comfortable life too. it's his way of showing love and affection. then he presents you with a beautiful dress and a diamond choker, only to sit in an armchair in the hotel room later that night and pour himself a glass of ice and whiskey. "take it off for me." is all he says. he watches you disentangle yourself from the dress, slowly running down your body. and you feel cheap, nefarious, undressing in front of your boyfriend, as he watches you, wearing a million dollar worth suit. then afterward, he brusquely fucks you in front of the window, with you wearing only the jewelry he gave you.

min yoongi, his muse

it's common knowledge that min yoongi writes and produces his own music and he does it in favor of art, of course. but behind all the genius lyrics and rap, there's an inspiration: you. and yoongi finds inspiration in the littlest things that many consider worthless. he’s a simple man but he loves you despite everything. it doesn't matter if he's singing about an ostentatious life or the difficult stages of coping with anxiety and depression: you're behind every letter, every syllable, every meaning. the love he feels for you is so intense, that on a day-to-day basis, he wakes up, seeing you breathing lightly, your body on top of his, and thus, he feels refreshed, because he has a muse. not only the love and support you give him, but also the forbidden meetings in his studio, when he’s overworked and stays up until late night producing and working. you sneak through the halls, taking advantage of the moment to see him. you love each other there, with the achingly insane idea that getting caught by someone is reckless. but you don't care about anything else when he's inside you, hands buried in his hair, hissing babbles in every kiss and every touch.

kim namjoon, soft dates

you've known namjoon too long to discern the parallel life he leads. the man who takes the stage, throwing bars everywhere, making people go insane with that persona, isn’t the same namjoon you know. the namjoon who likes to go to museums with you. which explains his favorite work of art that he knows by heart. he likes to be reserved and have a simple but meaningful life with you. that means spending the day at the beach, walking and having fun. eat cheap but tasty food in places no one else knows but him. enjoy nature, have outdoor picnics, where he prepares sandwiches and fresh fruit for the two of you. namjoon’s romantic and values ​​comfort. it also results in classic movie nights and the two of you trying to piece together a gigantic marvel puzzle, just to prove you can do it. namjoon also likes to make love. slow, passionate, with his hands over yours as he worships your body. spending time with you is what he loves most, aside from the music and career he has.

jung hoseok, traveling

if there’s a man who’s eager to know the world, new cultures, that man is hoseok. but he prefers to have these experiences with you. so whenever possible, he tries to book a trip for the two of you. whether in romantic nights in hawaii, riding a speedboats and having fun day and night on the most paradisiacal islands or making out sessions in the pool, with few lights on with tropical cocktails. he wants to know everything and everyone at the same time, try foods, get to know cultures, see important places, learn about everything. so that makes you his faithful accomplice on all trips. in paris, under the light of the city of love, or on excursions in a paradisiacal place in brazil, where you have contact with nature and everything seems too magical to be true. hoseok wants to fill out his passport pages, but it's only worth it if you're together. and on every trip, he makes sure to have some kind of amulet, so you can never forget the amazing times you've had together during all these trips around the world.

[untaemedqueen]

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 32 (Final Chapter).

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Love

Warnings For This Chapter: Daddy Kink, Degradation, Hand Job, Lactation Kink, Milk Drinking, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Pregnant Sex, Unprotected Sex, Riding, Begging, Praise, Spanking

A/N: This is the FINAL, FINAL chapter.... Wah, can you believe it? This is so crazy! I'm so so happy that everyone has enjoyed Third Wheeling so much! Thank you to my forevers @xjoonchildx​, @ladyartemesia​ and @ppersonna​ for being behind me on everything about this series

The sharp whistle that Yoongi chirps, bleeds through the living room of the mansion.

His two year old son turns to him with round, curious eyes. His small hand is outstretched trying to pick up the million dollar vase you have on display on the coffee table.

"What're you doing, my little troublemaker?"  Yoongi murmurs, wrapping his arms around his son and throwing him up in the air.

Honggi squeals loudly, curling his arms around his father's neck like needy vines.

"Maya, please move that vase before Y/N has a fit." Yoongi whispers to the woman he's always admired.

"Yes, Sir." she giggles.

"Dada," Honggi squeals into his neck and Yoongi's heart clenches at the sound.

"Yes, bud?" he inquires, tilting his head to look down at his son.

"Hungry." his son breathes.

"Mommy's making food, let's go see." Yoongi chirps, running his large hand over his son's small back.

Taking in the new mansion, Yoongi is really happy with it.

He didn't bring over a special architect from Greece, he didn't fawn over the marble this time around. He let you pick the house.

And like always, you're incredible.

The house isn't particularly gaudy like the last one which he shared with his ex-wife. It's warm wooden interior and gray and white furnishings scream home. And that's what Yoongi always needed -- a home.

Although, anywhere with you is home, he's noticed.

The wings that spread out far and wide throughout the house have pieces of art that make Yoongi feel comforted and he's astounded everyday by how thoughtful you are.

"Mama!" Honggi screams and it rips your husband out of his daydream.

"Uh oh, here comes trouble." you sing, slinging your towel over your shoulder.

You extend your arms over the quartz island for your son and Yoongi is incredibly cautious.

"Be careful, please," he begs.

You give him a sweet nod, accepting your son into your arms and Honggi leans over the pot curiously.

"Cow?" he asks and you snort loudly.

"Yes, beef." you reply, wiping his chin with your thumb.

"B-Beef," he repeats and Yoongi beams.

Honggi isn't one to stay in anyone's arms for long, despite how much he adored being held as a newborn. He wriggles almost immediately to get down and Yoongi takes a sharp breath between his teeth cautiously.

"Watch mommy's belly, please." he yelps, setting your son on the floor.

"Jesus," he bleats, kissing your cheek.

"It's okay," you promise him, bending down to fix your son's black hair.

Honggi hugs your neck tightly, kissing your cheek so sweetly that it turns you into a puddle of love.

"What should we name your brother and sister?" Yoongi inquires of your son as he leans both elbows down on the island.

He pops a grape in his mouth, looking at his kid expectantly.

"Pororo... Poby!" Honggi giggles, swaying back and forth.

"Oh yeah, good idea! We can name them after penguins!" Yoongi teases, giving his son a grape.

"Poby is a polar bear." you inform him, stirring the stew.

"Yeah daddy! Bear!" Honggi scoffs, tugging on Yoongi's pants playfully.

"Oh, I'm sorry daddy doesn't know what anthropomorphic animals his son watches while he's at work." your husband murmurs.

"An-Anth-Anthr… Animals!" Honggi gasps and you laugh gently.

Yoongi takes a deep breath through his nose, allowing the comfort of being surrounded by his family to enrapture him.

He steps behind you, wrapping his arms around you and your growing stomach.

"I missed you today, little dove." he breathes, kissing your temple.

"You miss me everyday," you state, turning around in his grasp.

"That's true. Because I love you." he coos, pushing some hair back behind your ear.

"I love you too," you giggle, accepting the kiss he gives you.

Since Yoongi became a father he's learned so many things like patience and showing love to his child, the likes of which his younger self never got to see. He wants to give his family the entire world if he can, he wants to give all of you everything you could possibly desire because it was so terribly lacking when he was a kid.

"Dinner isn't going to be ready for a bit." you tell your family.

"But I'm hungry now!" Honggi cries, throwing his head back in a dramatic two year old fashion that both of his parent's laugh at.

"Okay. We'll have yogurt and go play with the Gaesu until Mommy is done cooking." Yoongi announces, picking up his son and slinging him over his shoulder.

"I love you mommy!" Honggi squeals.

"I love you too, bub." you reply, kissing his forehead.

"Give mommy's belly a kiss before we go." your husband instructs, patting his son's backside.

Honggi kisses your growing stomach and you can only snort at your husband's silliness.

"Okay. Now dada!" your son says, clapping.

The CEO kisses your stomach and then your forehead.

"You're gonna wrinkle your suit." you chide him, leaning back against the counter.

"So worth it." he retorts, giving you a gummy smile.

Two years have flown by in the blink of an eye.

There has, of course, been hard work that's been poured into your marriage whether it be for Honggi or just to be able to spend time together but the honeymoon phase has never truly died down.

You bask in each other's company like lizards under the hot sun.

You thrive when you're both together.

It's fate, really.

"He's asleep," Yoongi announces, stepping into your bedroom.

"Oh, nice. It only took two hours instead of three like yesterday." you know you sound sarcastic but it's really true. Honggi never seems to be able to sleep when he needs to, he's hyperactive in waves and thoroughly enjoys spending time with his father.

"Well tonight we read the big bad wolf and then he got scared so I had to calm him down and stay with him until he finally fell asleep." your husband rambles, peeling off his clothes.

You hum in agreement, sitting up gently.

Yoongi's tattoo of the large family tree on his bicep seems to shine in the dull lights of the room and it makes a smile spread over your face.

"How are my other babies?" he inquires, laying down beside you on the bed.

It's no secret that you adored your son and it's no secret that Yoongi wanted you pregnant almost immediately after Honggi was born. He missed your big belly and the closeness it brought the both of you when you were pregnant. But after Honggi was born, your paintings were flying off the art exhibit walls like hot cakes and you needed time to create new works of art.

While your husband had his tantrums and gripes about it, he understood. Being pregnant is difficult and he knows that, so when you told him he had to wait, he begrudgingly accepted it.

Your art was on hold now, with over two hundred pieces out in the world at any given second, you decided to focus on family.

"They're okay," you promise, running your fingers through your hair.

You can remember when you found out you were pregnant again for the second time. All of your symptoms hit so much harder than the first pregnancy.

"Baby? We gotta go. We're gonna be late." Yoongi calls, peeking into the bathroom.

He didn't expect to find you heaving over the toilet but when he does, two things happen simultaneously. There's a sharp bout of worry and a thinner vein of excitement that spread through his bones.

"What's the matter, my dove? You feel sick?" he pouts, entering the bathroom to rub at your back.

You shiver gently, waving your hand to the large gray cabinets beneath your sinks.

"I'm not a mime, I'm sorry." your husband whispers, raising an eyebrow.

"Pr-Pregnancy test," you plead.

He could just about pass out and die from happiness from those two words.

"Really?! You think so?!" he beams, ripping open the doors and tearing open the cardboard box like some sort of rabid animal.

His hands are shaky when he gives you the test and he helps you off of your knees immediately.

His thumbs rub at the tile indentations on your kneecaps and like always he stares up at you like you hang the moon on a string for him each and every night.

"I'm sorry we're late." you whisper, blotting your mouth with toilet paper.

"This is way more important. Fuck that. Jeongguk can wait." Yoongi avows, watching you cap the pregnancy test.

"We probably aren't even going to make it there anyway," your husband breathes.

"Why not?" you inquire, standing up and smoothing out the skirt of your dress.

The CEO wraps his arms around you, burying his face into your neck. "Because if you are pregnant, I'm gonna have to do some celebratory stuff."

You laugh aloud, running your fingers over his arms. "Stuff like what?"

"Like eating your pretty pregnant pussy and fucking your pregnant cunt." he murmurs against your skin.

You shiver at his words, glancing down at the test.

You hope you are pregnant. There's something insane in women's brains which makes them forget just how painful childbirth is so they can always look forward to more.

But the euphoric feeling of having a baby is well worth the pain, that's something you'll always remember.

"God, I think you are pregnant." he hisses, running his hands over your sides.

"Why do you say that?" you ask, tilting your head to look at him.

"You just feel different in my hands."

"I think you're crazy," you retort with a laugh.

"Why?!" he gasps.

"Because you didn't say anything yesterday when we… y'know."

"When we fucked?" he goads, kissing you softly.

You hum in agreement against his lips and he snorts softly.

"You did feel warmer around me." he announces, hooking his chin over your shoulder.

"It should be ready." you inform him, both of your eyes glued to the face down stick.

"Go on, show me that my baby is in you." he urges, kissing your temple.

Your heart races and your fingers begin to shake as you flip over the stick.

Yoongi holds his breath and you find yourself doing the same.

When you flip it over, the plus sign screams at you and Yoongi breathes a sigh of relief.

Your husband groans happily, picking you up off the ground and spinning you around.

"Thank you baby, thank you!" he cheers.

When he sets you down on the ground, you can't help the thrilled giggle that seeps from you.

"Should we head out?" you ask your husband softly.

The scoff he gives only seems right. "Yeah, right. I have more important things to celebrate than a boxing match."

You can only squeal when he scoops you up bridal style.

Putting his head on your shoulder, your husband takes a deep, calming breath.

His fingertips dance over your distended skin and his lips traipse over your exposed collarbone.

"You're so gorgeous," he breathes, letting his eyes flutter shut.

The smirk that spreads over your face is goofy and flushed, sometimes you find it astounding that he can even be so sweet with you.

There's a tiny kick beneath his fingertips that makes his head lift off of your body.

"What are you up to in there, guys? Fighting or something?" he gawks, feeling another flurry of taps below his hand.

"They don't have enough room," you announce, lolling your head back to the pillow.

"Well, just four more months and you won't have to be cramped anymore." Yoongi promises, sliding down the bed to kiss your belly.

"We should sleep, we have plans for tomorrow."

"Caleb's first birthday party." Yoongi remembers, drifting his lips over your skin.

You nod in agreement, tucking your hand beneath your head to get comfy.

Your husband knows just how difficult it is for a woman with a set of twins inside of her to fall asleep and he's nothing if not doting.

"Lemme put my babies to sleep," he murmurs, sliding his fingers over the soft skin of your inner thighs.

It's fascinating how the Kisung CEO can make you feel as if black coffee pumps through your veins even when you're completely exhausted.

He watches you avidly, making sure this is something you're up for. When your nipples begin to pebble and strain under the flimsy nightgown that can barely contain your swollen flesh, Yoongi knows he's got the green light.

His eyelids lower with lustful intentions and the tip of his tongue glides slowly over his plump bottom lip.

He knows you're excited for anything and everything when your hips lift expectantly.

Clicking his teeth, he pushes your body back down to the bed. "Easy now, little dove. You should know who's in charge here, baby."

Your whimper sounds like the most earnest plea as it passes through your parted lips and Yoongi can feel his cock straining against his briefs for some semblance of relief.

He kisses at your clothed pussy, already feeling how sodden the material is getting in a matter of seconds.

It continues to astound him, two years in, how willing your body is for him.

"Daddy," you breathe softly, carding your fingers through his hair.

His hands caress whatever he can find whether it be your thighs, your belly, your breasts.

"Wet little slut for me." he murmurs, tugging your panties off with his teeth.

You're quick to discard your nightgown, wanting nothing more to be touched anywhere you can get it.

Your husband hums at the sight of your core, pussy lips puffy and swollen with greedy intentions and slick with arousal.

"There she is," he breathes, kissing over your belly.

Palming your breasts in hand, you understand why he's taking so long -- to drive you insane.

He wants euphoria and adrenaline to course through you like wildfire so when it ebbs away, you'll be completely exhausted.

"My beautiful dove." Yoongi professes, spreading your legs wider.

Your eyes are glued to his abs, the way the muscles contort and constrict with each shallow breath he breathes.

You can thank each and every god everyday for the man you're married to.

You know the hierarchy in this bedroom, it rarely ends up with you on top, but the temptation of his thick, hard cock straining against his Balenciaga briefs has you throwing all cares to the wind.

He hisses gently against your distended skin when you cup his long length with your hand.

Yoongi will be the first to admit that he's missed this. He's been sweet and caring, not wanting to trouble you for sex with you being as huge as you are. He knows two babies are way more difficult than just Honggi. But, he needs you. In every single way.

"Play nice, my dove." he chides you softly, kissing up your belly to your swollen breasts.

You don't heed his words, tugging down the band of his briefs and swallowing thickly when his large cock bobs in the air before smacking up to his toned honey stomach.

His eyes flutter shut at the feeling and you know you've neglected him for too long. His cock is throbbing and needy as sin, beads of precum endlessly spurting from the top and slowly traipsing down the head.

"Baby girl," he gasps when you pump his cock in hand.

Yoongi kisses over your puffy nipples, scoffing at the pleasure that vibrates through him with each jerk.

He coos softly when you bead milk for him and his eyes snap to yours. "You didn't tell me your milk came in."

"I-I didn't know," you chirp, pumping his cock harder.

He shivers then, wrapping his lips around your peaked nub and tugging softly. He groans happily at the distantly familiar taste of your milk and his needy hands grip and massage your thighs as he situates himself further between them.

"Daddy, fuck!" you cry out gently, arching your back.

The tip of your husband's tongue is quick against your sensitive skin and you can only whimper for more.

Your shaking thumb runs circles over the swollen, red mushroom head of his cock and he gasps above you, pressing his forehead into your breast.

"Ba-Baby, this is about you. Please," he begs, wrapping his hand around your wrist.

You give a smirk, feeling high and mighty at how quickly you can break him down to a mere lustful animal.

Your free hand rubs circles to your stomach and he can just about cum at the sight of you.

His cock throbs wildly and he forces your hand off of him with narrowed eyes. "Behave, little dove. I won't say it again."

You hide your smirk, laying back down for him.

He eyes you wearily for a second before continuing his dissent on your body. His fingers caress over your sodden lower lips and his name tumbles from your mouth with a quickness.

"You're messy." he prods, spreading your lips with his fingers and tapping your throbbing bundle of nerves with the pads of his fingers.

Your body jolts, bottom lip tucking between your teeth.

God, you've missed this.

You've missed him doting on you so eagerly.

Yoongi continues to take his time, enjoying how your entrance clenches around nothing.

You're a needy little thing and you're all his. The way it should be.

"Daddy, please!" you beg, rubbing circles over your distended skin.

"What's wrong, beautiful? You're too much of a slut to enjoy this? You want gratification now?" he quips, lowering his head to your core.

You can't even see him over your belly and it drives you absolutely mad. You can feel the puffs of hot, needy breath that pass his lips but it does nothing but earn more dripping arousal from your center.

"Such a pretty pussy you have," he purrs, suckling your swollen lips.

You gasp loudly, screwing your eyes shut.

He plays with your entrance, swirling the tip of his index finger around it until your racking with sobs above him.

Yoongi presses the tip of his tongue to your throbbing clit and he groans gently at the feeling.

"Shhh, my dove. Daddy is going to take care of you, I promise." he avows, lapping at your nub with slow strokes.

It's so pleasurable, but it's not enough. You're on the precipice and he keeps you there for what feels like eternity.

"God! Daddy, please!" you beg, bunching your hands up in his hair and tugging.

He hums in fake confusion, adoring how your body shakes before him.

He's good at the long game.

He thrives in it.

When he slips two fingers inside of your slick cunt, you're about ready to burst but he pulls away from your core with a devilish smirk.

"My pregnant wife is so needy," he jeers, curling his fingers with ease to the soft patch of nerves within you.

Your chest constricts, heaving for breath. Your skin develops a thin sheen of sweat and you feel yourself possibly going insane within his grasp.

Picking his face up between the apex of your thighs, the sight of his soaked chin and cheeks hurdles you to the precipice.

"Wanna cum, need to cum!" you chant, cupping your belly while you grind yourself down onto his fingers.

"You hold it," he orders sweetly.

You can only scoff and the animalistic pride within you snaps.

You sit up, as quickly as you can, before pushing him down on the bed.

"Baby," he warns you, pulling his fingers from your heat and entering them into his mouth.

"I need it!" you whine, straddling him.

His hands immediately hold your hips to protect you from any imminent danger you might face. He goes to chide you but when your soaked cunt glides against his hard, thick length, he can only take a sharp breath between his teeth.

"I missed your cock Daddy, I missed it so much," you whine, rocking your hips.

"Oh Christ," he murmurs, gliding his hands from your hips to the globes of your ass.

With every rock of your hips, your clit thrums pleasantly at the feeling of the head of his cock prodding against the bundle of nerves.

Your shaky hands grip at your breasts, swiping your thumbs against your leaking nipples until your sobbing with pleasure.

"You're so gorgeous, fuck," Yoongi curses, enraptured with the sight above him.

Your eyebrows furrow and you're losing yourself in the pleasure as your mouth drops open.

His hands knead at the supple flesh of your backside before rearing back and spanking you with a fierceness that you adore.

"Yes, more!" you gasp, sitting up and positioning his cock at your entrance.

"You're a little cock slut, you know that?" he seethes, leaning up on his elbows to kiss at your belly.

"Your cock slut, Daddy. I'm yours," you whimper, slowly sitting down on his length.

His mouth opens at the euphoric feeling of your warm, wet cunt sliding down on him and he can only fall back to the bed with a heady thump.

"Shit," he breathes out, looking up at you like you give him the universe.

You do.

You give him everything and anything that exceeds his expectations.

You take a second to adjust to his length, preening as the head of his cock prods against your soft cervix.

"Good girl, little dove." he bleats, running his fingertips over your outer thighs.

Yoongi can see the way you swallow thickly and he can tell how fucked out you already are with your eyelids being as heavy as they are and pride blooms in his chest.

"Want you to suckle," you beg, palming your breasts.

He can only scoff at the arousing thought, he's up in a flash, minding your stomach. His lips pluck and suckle at your sensitive skin until you're shaking like a leaf under his ministrations.

"Your cock feels so big in my pussy, feels so good," you purr, rocking your hips.

He moans against your breast, gripping your hips with needy hands.

The rhythm you set as he suckles from you is slow but the impending orgasm you've been denied comes back in waves. The head of his cock taps against the sweet spot inside of you with each jolt of your hips and you're losing your grasp on reality.

"D-Daddy!" you gasp, letting your brain free of any thoughts besides just how pleasurable he feels inside of you.

"That's it, baby girl. Take it. Take what you need from me." he announces, laying back down.

Your hands push down on his chest as you begin to pick up speed and he can only cry out your name like a man possessed.

"Jesus, just like that, little dove. Fuck!" he curses, spanking the globes of your ass until your skin is smarting.

Then you feel the precipice again, you feel yourself teetering.

Your mouth opens to give a silent scream and your eyes well up with tears.

He coos softly, running his fingers through his hair as if the pleasure he's receiving is truly unbelievable.

You groan loudly, pressing your hands beneath your stomach. "I'm-I'm-"

"Cum for me, little dove. I can feel how badly your cunt wants to milk my cock. Cum." he orders and your gasp echoes throughout the room.

Your hands rub comforting circles to your stomach while your hips rock at an unfound speed.

"Yoongi!" you cry, squeezing your eyes shut.

Then -- euphoria.

Your orgasm explodes within you like a million shards of glass. With deafened ears and tear streaked cheeks, you don't even feel your husband lay you down on your back.

He fucks his cock so deeply inside of you that it brings you back to reality in waves.

"God, you look so beautiful taking what's yours, baby." he coos, sitting up.

You can only cry out gently when his strokes become erratic and deeper.

"You want me to cum inside you? You want to drip with me?" he inquires, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth.

You nod incessantly, spreading your legs wider when you feel his cock throb within you.

"Yeah? You want to be my little cum slut? Get so full of my cum when you're already pregnant with my babies?" he seethes through his teeth.

"Y-Yes, want to feel your cum so badly," you hiccup, running your hands over his chest.

His eyes screw shut when your hips meet his every stroke.

"Oh fuck, I'm cumming. God, your cunt is incredible!" he whines.

His hips give one last thrust, burying himself as deeply as possible before the warmth of his cum floods through your battered core.

You hum happily, rubbing your belly.

"I love you," he whispers, bending down and planting a passionate kiss to your lips.

"I love you, too." you reply, hooking your hand around the back of his neck.

After cleaning you up and situating yourselves back to normal, Yoongi pulls your body to cuddle against his. His fingers drift over your bare back and he sighs happily.

You're out like a light in mere seconds when you finally get comfy and he can only chuckle at your shallow breaths.

His hand comes to rest beneath his head and he can't begin to express how lucky he feels.

His attention falters to your stomach when he feels a gentle prodding against his hip. He smirks, kissing the top of your forehead and closing his eyes.

"Mama!" Honggi screams and you know better now than to rush to him whenever he shouts for you.

"Yes, baby?" you call to him, fixing your earrings.

"Want to play with Yumi!" he calls, peeking into your bedroom.

"We're going to see Yumi now." you reply, turning to him.

Your eyebrow raises as you look at your husband's spitting image. "Where are your shoes?" you ask your two year old.

"Dada said I don't have to wear them!" he beams, rolling on the floor with your corgi.

"Oh yes you do, you're not going over to Aunt Leena's house with no shoes on." you reply.

When your husband steps into the doorway, he knows he's made a mistake. Just the look you give him makes him want to run and hide.

"What?" he bleats.

Min Yoongi is obsessed with giving his son whatever he wants. He's obsessed with spoiling him and sometimes you have to look like the bad guy.

"He needs to put on shoes." you tell your husband.

Both of your boys frown at you and it's almost so ridiculous that you can barely contain the eye roll.

"Why?" Honggi chirps.

When you place your hand on your stomach, Yoongi nods. "Mommy's right, you need to wear shoes."

He's quick to avoid chastisement today.

"But why, dada?" your son inquires.

You love the 'why' phase… when it's directed at your husband.

"Because your little feet are gonna be cold and because mommy said so. And what did I tell you about when mommy says something?" your husband whispers conspiratorially to your son.

"That you do it! Mama has two babies a-and mad isn't good for babies!" Honggi says, sticking up two small fingers.

You can only snort, shutting the bathroom light off and leaning against the door frame.

"That's right, bud. So let's get you some shoes."

When your husband goes to leave the room, he widens his eyes apologetically at you and you can't help but giggle.

"Silly," you mumble, grabbing your purse.

Caleb's first birthday is a huge deal.

You know how much work his mother put into it and you know that it needs to be over the top and perfect for her to be thriving and happy with the day's events.

"Miss Thing!" Leena gasps, throwing herself out of the door to hug you.

"Hi Beena," you giggle, wrapping your arms around her.

Taehyung is right behind her with a smile plastered on his face.

"Happy birthday Caleb!" you gasp, taking him from Taehyung's arms.

Yoongi kisses your best friend on the cheek before looking over at her one year old son.

"Hey buddy! Happy birthday!" your husband cheers, watching as Caleb tucks his face into your neck.

It's always astounding to see how much of a one eighty Leena has done when it comes to Taehyung and her family.

You remember how adamant she was on not getting pregnant and not getting married but then when you gave birth to Honggi -- she wanted that.

And you completely understood it.

Now that your best friend is married and having a family, you can see how content and happy she is. It's something you're really proud of.

"Everyone is in the backyard." Leena announces, fixing Caleb's small suit.

"Yumi?!" Honggi screeches, looking past Taehyung.

"Yeah, Yumi too." Leena's husband quips with a laugh.

Yoongi snorts, following after his son.

"Miss Thing, I have to tell you, I would have never in a million years thought we'd see him today." your best friend blurts, guiding you into her mansion.

"Who?" you inquire, handing Caleb back to his father.

Leena's hands clamp down on your shoulders and her eyes widen. "Jin."

"Shut the fuck up," you gasp, pulling her towards the backyard.

There are a multitude of people in the backyard but your eyes find his tall, handsome stature easily.

He's standing by the fountain with his wife by his side and he looks in his element.

It's been months since you've seen your other best friend.

You aren't really sure why he dropped off the face of the Earth. You know he's probably been busy, you all have been.

But you know Leena has taken it the hardest. Jin has always meant something deeply to her so when he didn't return phone calls or texts… you know it burned her.

It's almost as if he feels your eyes on him the way he turns to look at you.

He gives you a warm smile, immediately leaving his wife to make his way across the large backyard.

Yoongi notices how your eyes get glassy when he looks away from Honggi and Jimin's daughter, Yumi. "Jimin, watch him." he orders, leaving to comfort you.

Now, Yoongi doesn't hate Jin, by any means. He respects him and in all honesty, appreciates him for helping him in his dire time of need.

But the CEO will be damned if he doesn't coddle you, his pregnant wife, to his side when you're emotionally distraught.

Seokjin is wary when he sees your husband loop his hand around your hip protectively.

"Shhh," Yoongi coos, hearing your gentle sniffles.

Leena on the other hand, just folds her arms, widening her eyes expectantly at your best friend.

"Hey guys," he bleats, running his hand over the back of his neck.

"That's it? All we get is a 'hey guys' from you?" Leena scoffs.

Jin blushes furiously, cupping his whisky tighter in his hand. "What do you want me to say, Beena?"

"How about a sorry, Kim Seokjin? That'll be the start. Then you can veer off into how apologetic you are for pushing us into the background for her." Leena sneers, nodding her head to Sera.

You take in how nervous Jin is and you absolutely hate it. You hate how small he's making himself look.

"I am sorry." he agrees, grabbing for your hands.

"Maybe you guys should take this inside," Taehyung whispers, looking over the party guests who have stopped their conversations to look over at all of you.

Leena doesn't even give an answer, only trudging back into her mansion with narrowed eyes.

Taehyung clears his throat awkwardly, walking with his son towards Jimin and Anna.

"Do you want me to stay?" Yoongi inquires, brushing some hair back behind your ear.

You nod immediately, wanting the comfort of your husband with you.

"Alright, my love." he promises, kissing your temple.

Seokjin chases after Leena and you can only sigh at the impending yelling you're about to hear.

"Miss Thing, please sit." Leena gushes, pointing to the couch inside the library.

You take a seat, watching Jin wade back in forth nervously like he's waiting for a scolding.

"Did you know that Y/N is pregnant again? That she's having twins?" Leena spits.

"Yes, I did. I'm very happy for her and her husband." Seokjin replies, helping you sit down.

Yoongi pours himself a small glass of scotch, draping his arm over your shoulders.

"Do you fucking understand how sorely you've been missed?" Leena inquires to the handsome man as she sits down across from you.

Seokjin clears his throat awkwardly. "Yeah, I-I do."

"Then where have you been?" you prod, folding your arms.

Your best friend leans back against the large wooden desk. "Listen guys, I've missed you guys so deeply. I need you to know this, okay? I'm sorry that I've been absent from your kids and your lives. I've been dying to spend time with you all."

"Okay. Then where have you been?!" Leena yelps, repeating your question.

Jin takes a deep breath, letting his eyes flutter shut. "I've been trying to start my own family. It's not easy! I've been taking Sera all over the world to different doctors and hospitals to try and see why she can't get pregnant! I've been depressed and down on myself until recently. I'm fucking sorry I abandoned you guys but I needed time to heal my heart."

The news resounds in your ears and you cuddle closer to your husband who rubs your shoulder with his thumb soothingly.

The smugness is wiped off of Leena's face within a second.

"Why didn't you tell us?" she whispers softly.

Jin's fingers card through his hair and with a frustrated huff, he lolls his head back.

"Because it's…it's heartbreaking and not what I want to bring to the table when you guys have families and lives already. I don't want to burden you guys with my troubles." he mumbles, spinning his wedding band with his thumb.

You take a sharp breath between your teeth, standing with the help of your husband who urges you to be careful.

"Jin," you whisper, hugging him tightly.

He stiffens at your touch before wrapping his arms around you. He sobs gently, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

"I did miss you guys, so much. I'm sorry," he cries loudly.

"You don't have to hide your feelings from us. You should feel comfortable to tell us anything and everything. I'm sorry if you didn't trust us enough with your worries." you murmur into his ear.

"No! I just… I was scared, I didn't want to trouble you both." he breathes, pulling away and cupping your face.

"Jinnie," Leena pouts, standing up and hugging the both of you.

"You're never a bother to us, don't ever think that." you coo, fixing his hair.

He takes a deep, calming breath, running his hands over your belly. "One of your kids is kicking me in the ribs." he mumbles.

You can only giggle, patting your eyes with a tissue.

"That's the least you deserve for not trusting us with your fears," Leena scolds him gently.

He nods, exhaling sharply until his cheeks are puffing out.

"So is she?" your best friend asks him.

"What?" he mumbles.

"Is she pregnant?" Leena inquires.

He takes a sharp breath between his teeth, tilting his head. "Something like that."

Your eyes drift slowly over the perfectly manicured lawn watching Honggi offer to share a toy truck with Yumi. His smile is the spitting image of Yoongi’s and it makes you sigh happily. You lean against the arm of the lawn chair, resting your hand against your cheek.

You can barely believe how happy you’ve become over the past two years.

Everything just falls into the right place, everything just fits like a perfect complete puzzle.

Honggi turns to you, flailing his hand wildly and you can only giggle. Waving back, your heart expands to the size of the universe.

Yoongi laughs at something loudly, drawing your attention. You watch him sling his arm over Taehyung’s shoulder and you can only snort at the sight.

You can remember when you never heard his laugh, you didn’t know what it sounded like for quite a while and then… once he began to laugh, it never seemed to end.

That’s something you revel in, your husband’s happiness is yours well.

It gives you great pride to see him beaming from ear to ear. And you don’t think it often but --  you got him here. You got him to this state of happiness.

It’s your best artwork, yet.

“Hey Y/N.”

You look away from your husband to the one person you’d never thought you’d speak to.

“Sera… hey,” you breathe, looking up at her flawless form.

“H-How are you?” she inquires, sipping her water nervously.

You haven’t seen here in two years. She looks good, that isn’t hard for her. Something about her seems calmer and more poised then when you knew her.

“Can I sit?” she asks gently, running her hand over the back of her neck.

“Please,” you insist, sitting up straighter.

You can feel eyes on you and you can only imagine who it is but you don’t dare look away from the actress before you.

While you weren’t her biggest fan, she’s made Jin happy over the past two years and you can’t fault her for that. He hasn’t loved anyone since Leena and you can see that his heart has bloomed since being with this woman.

“No drink?” you quip, pointing at her water.

“I thought, y’know, since my surrogate can’t drink then I shouldn’t either.” she shrugs.

You don’t know what to say if you’re being honest. It must be a sore subject…

“Yeah-” you breathe awkwardly.

“I’m not upset about it, we can talk about it.” she announces, putting her hand to your shoulder.

Sera in all the time you’ve known her has never touched you and you’re surprised at how normal it is, honestly.

“I’m sorry that you… y’know… you’ve had a difficult time.” you say honestly.

You can’t imagine how hard Sera and Jin have been trying, how many hospitals and specialists they’ve gone to, how much heartbreak they’ve gone through.

“At least I’m getting a baby at all, right? I always used to be so angry about the whole situation… Maybe that’s why I was so mean to you.” she admits, carding her fingers through her long, now blonde hair.

You hum thoughtfully, looking up at the dusky sky. “I mean it mustn't have been easy for you either. I came into Yoongi’s life and flipped it upside down. You were comfortable with the situation and I just spun things around like a top.”

“Well… yeah, true. But if you didn’t come into Yoongi’s life then I wouldn’t have been able to become a better person and find the person that’s right for me.” she avows, looking over at you.

Her words resound through you and your eyes widen just the slightest bit. She’s really different these days, huh?

“Well, I came over to say I’m sorry for treating you terribly the whole first time you were pregnant, it was in bad taste and I was so selfish back then that I couldn’t begin to understand how horrible that could be for you.”

“I accept your apology.” you reply, giving her a small smile.

She breathes a sigh of relief, letting her body go lax in the chair beside you. “Oh good, I was so nervous to talk to you. I thought I was gonna have a heart attack or something.” she gasps.

You find yourself giggling and she snorts softly.

“You’re kid is cute,” she comments, watching him run over to you.

“Thanks,” you whisper, widening your eyes at Honggi curiously as he stops in front of you.

“Mama!” he cheers, holding up his paint covered fingers.

“Yes, baby?” you murmur, pushing his hair back.

“I’m painter like you! Look!” he squeals, tugging your hand.

You look over at Sera apologetically, standing up to follow your son.

“It was nice to see you Sera, I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.” you call back to her.

She smiles warmly, giving you a gentle wave goodbye.

Jin could have done worse.

Lowering your head, you look at the picture that your son has painted. The fingerpaint is thick and blobbish but you can see a few distinct shapes that stick out to you.

You don’t say anything at first, letting him finish a few small details that he thinks are important. He gives you his gummy smile, seemingly proud of himself and it makes you smile too.

“It’s very nice, baby. I can see how much work you put into it.” you coo.

“It’s mama and dad, Honggi and baby!” he beams, picking up the picture which is almost too heavy for him with all the paint on it.

Your husband sweeps in beside you, planting a wet kiss to your cheek and taking the painting out of your hands.

“Mommy is having two babies, not just one.” Yoongi reminds him, pointing at your stomach.

Honggi nods fervently, opening and closing his small hands demanding the picture back from his father.

Your husband snorts gently, lowering the picture for his son. You can barely contain the ridiculous giggle that tries to escape you as he draws a black circle next the one already painted.

"Two!” he cheers, sticking up two of his paint covered fingers.

“Good job, bud.” Yoongi chuckles, kissing the top of his head.

“I saw that interaction. You okay?” your husband inquires softly into your ear.

You hum in agreement, wrapping your arm around his waist and laying your head down on his shoulder. “Better than okay,” you murmur, feeling his lips caress over the top of your head.

“Do you think he’s okay?” Yoongi inquires, pulling over the car.

You can’t help but laugh at his worried expression. “He’s fine,” you promise, putting your hand on his knee, “we can go out on a date without him around us all the time. Maya’s got it. Honggi loves her.”

He shuts off the engine, turning to you with a pout spread over his face. “I just miss him, I didn’t get to read him a bedtime story.”

Your heart is warm and you can’t help the giggle you give. “It’s our anniversary, besides it’s just for a few hours.”

He picks up your hand, placing a soft kiss to the back of it. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Happy anniversary, little dove.”

“Happy anniversary, babe.” you reply, with a smile.

The inside of Magic Shop is pristine like always, you’re so surprised that Jin has kept it exactly the same as two years ago. He always loved to change things up but you realize that he probably got so busy since you’ve last been here, he probably hasn’t had time for anything.

The music is quieter than normal and there isn’t a soul in the club. Which makes you understand immediately that Yoongi rented the whole place out.

“You shouldn’t have,” you hiss, giving Hyun a small wave.

“Of course I should have, you deserve the world, baby. Plus, loud music isn’t good for the babies,” he whispers, kissing your cheek.

Your eyes immediately land on the black velvet curtain and the memories of first meeting Yoongi flood through you like water.

“Thanks,” your husband murmurs, grabbing a whisky from Hyun.

When you pull back the curtain, you can only smile at the same leather booth from that fated day.

“Jesus, it even smells the same in here.” Yoongi breathes, running his fingers over the top of the couch.

This room holds so many memories for you but nothing beats the one with your husband.

“God, it’s like it was yesterday. I can still remember that black dress you were wearing,” your husband chirps, sitting down in the same spot he did two years ago.

He pats his lap, setting down his whisky onto the floor and you’re absolutely gobsmacked by how much this feels like dejavu.

“I’m a little big,” you murmur, sitting down slowly.

“Never, you’re gorgeous, little dove.” Yoongi coos, wrapping his arms around you.

His warm hands caress your practically bare thighs and when he looks at you, you can see the sheer love and devotion in his eyes.

“My little dove,” he breathes, drifting his thumb over the apple of your cheek.

You can remember just how smoking hot you thought this man was, how intrigued you were by him in an instant. You remember every single second of your time in this back room. You remember every minute of your days when you found out you were pregnant and how absolutely scared you were.

You can remember his good times and his bad when he was working out his feelings about you.

Nothing has left your mind and you treasure each and every memory -- because they make up who you are. They make up your life.

And it’s perfect. Because you have him.

“You were a good girl that I wanted to break so badly,” your husband announces, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Well… you did that,” you quip, humming when he presses his face to the crook of your neck.

“Thank you, little dove, really. Thank you so much for loving me and giving me such a wonderful family,” Yoongi gasps.

“Thank you for opening up to me and showing me that our love could blossom into something as perfect as this.” you reply, running your fingertips over his arms.

When he lifts his head, you can see how glassy his eyes are with tears.

“God, I love you, little dove.” he whimpers.

“I love you too.” you reply, kissing him softly.

His lips are plush and soft against yours and you can feel the tears that careen down his cheeks until they’re soaking into your skin. He’s so gentle with you, drifting his hands from your back to your distended stomach.

“My wife,” he chuckles, capturing your chin between his thumb and index finger, “my beautiful, gorgeous, powerful wife who has given me enough love to last eons. I love you so much, little dove, it hurts me.”

There are one hundred and fifty eight ways to say ‘I love you.’ And, they all pertain to Min Yoongi.

He’s a gentle soul and a loving husband that holds high standing with billions of people worldwide. He is sweet, wonderful and a perfect man at the end of the day. And now, everyone sees this side to him.

In the media he is praised and renowned for being a fantastic father and an equally fantastic husband. And to you, nothing could ever be more true,

It was March 23rd, when you saw him and met him. You tasted the finest of liquors and smelt the smoke of the richest Cuban cigars.

It was March 23rd when your life had truly begun.

Third Wheeling Taglist -  @wickizer​, @imluckybitches​, @slothykrueger​, @claireelise19, @ggukkieland​, @rspbrryy​, @iv-bts​, @bambuzlee, @chanelbts​, @mxxngxdss​, @bluewhale52​, @milesjeon11​, @diamonddia-mond​, @vinylphwoar, @xnxy97​, @hubbytaehyung, @140503at-dawn​, @bts-7beauts​, @jadeblackwoll, @sunshiine-hobii, @creatorspalace​, @eclectically-esoteric​, @nikkiordonez12​, @kaitswrld​, @skamlover200​, @sevgilove98, @kooeuphoria​, @jikooksgirl19​, @hobbledehoy26​, @singular-itae​, @dchimminie​, @lowlifeoeuvre​, @sugaslittlekookies​, @bloopbloopb, @pjmcth​, @softysuho​, @codeinbelle, @jaiuneamesolitaiire​, @betysotelo18​, @jeonmisha​, @iwanttohitmyself​, @ayyyocee​, @neverthefirstchoice​, @itsbangtanoclock​, @little7bitchh​, @veryuniquenamegoeshere​, @deathkat657​, @firstlovesuga-93​, @namjoonia​, @paperpurple​, @muzikabijou​, @liebeoppa, @veronawrites​, @kleff03​, @ruinsofangels​, @brightwingr5​, @leekanchol​, @rkivemagic​, @ithinkileftmycoatoutside​, @melaninkpops​, @y00ngisbabygirl​, @ungodlyjoon​, @prochnost513​, @dunixxd​, @athenakyle​, @igotnotype​, @chxmachxps​, @tinymintyoongi, @vangameren-blog​, @alpaca1612​, @ohcarolinamin​, @thegreatestsushi​, @eltrain80​, @btsmylife21​, @deeepvibes​, @httpminyg​, @deliciouslydisturbed365​, @rkchmestizangmaldita​, @jimin-chu, @pimpnameyannie​, @preciouschimine​, @daughterofthequeen, @monetsberet​, @vanillamyg, @aamxxrii​, @kooafraid​, @ladykadyrova​, @singjisu​, @yazanii​, @moonlitmyg​, @justzeera​​, @absolutefantrash​, @whocaresarchives​, @loosewindmill, @vantesfx​​, @bt21chim​​, @flowerboyhobi​​, @kozuume-kenma, @taepiper​​

Sorry for those it didn’t tag!

[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 10: BIG DICK IS BACK IN TOWN

y/n is back in brooklyn for the holidays. thinking that a stream will make her feel less homesick for cali, she starts working on her famously titled hentai.free.srv. what was supposed to be a relaxing stream turns into a special delivery about two hours in.

─── corpse husband x reader ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 2.2k ─── ❥ req: Here's one... You know those apps for delivery like Domino's or whatnot... What if reader is streaming Among Us with Corpse, and reader mentions they're hungry and Corpse offers to order them food, and readers like no no it's fine... Then there's delivery at the door (Corpse ordered beforehand) 

author’s note: fucky format is also back in town baby!!! also if you find any mistakes - no u didnt <3 thank u everyone for enjoying this story sm i literally cant believe how feral yall going strawberry cow was a nuclear explosion im still recovering tbh. got an ask a while ago and decided to incorporate it into myso. happy holidays everyone! myso will continue on monday!

ultimate masterlist.  ҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous.  ҉   next.

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Indeed, being soft on any social media platform was the biggest disgrace and needed to be eliminated post haste. Moreover, it was a slippery slope - once you start flooding your timeline with cute imagery and heart emojis, what will stop you from posting inspirational Facebook quotes? Disgusting. If Rae were here, she would chide you (not you thinking about her as if she’s dead or something). For once in your life, you feel like you deserve it. 

Alas, you hope this little chaos you’ve caused is enough to throw everyone off. The stans, especially. You know the hashtags, you’ve seen ARMY scourging for info online with the same fervor and ruthlessness 1 Direction fans hacked airport security cameras just to spy on the boys. If you had any dirty secrets online, they are out to the public now - thankfully, besides the Harry Styles stan account (with edits and all), you have nothing. Though, now that you think about it, exposed nudes would have been better than your Punk!Harry edit receiving almost a million views. God, your life’s a fucking mess.

Your fans aren’t the only ones out for info - you, too, are trying to decipher Rae’s message. Code: Barbecue Sauce. The two of you had come up with it roughly two years ago, around the same time when you promised that if you didn’t find significant others by the time you’re 40, you’ll just marry each other. It was one of the many rules found in your friendship codex. Barbecue Sauce signifies information - an exchange of information. And depending on how it ends or begins (”So I’m sitting there” alludes to Rae, “On my titties” alludes to you), secret data on that person is given away, usually free of charge. 

But why? And to whom did Rae give away what? You had pestered her mercilessly and even sent some voice messages where you were crying. You were only crying because of a video of a grandpa smiling you saw on TikTok, but you are a snake, and so you put those tears to good use. If streaming doesn’t work out, you’ll just become an actress. Hollywood would love you. Your PR firm sure as fuck wouldn’t, though.

Rae was having none of it. She said you’ll figure it out eventually. Told you to channel your superior puzzle skills. You were quick to remind her that you can barely count to ten without having an aneurysm. Oddly serious, she admitted that she worries for you sometimes. Why only sometimes?! you demanded. She merely sighed. uttering under her breath something that sounded closely to “Boke.”

You leave her for barely a week and she’s already neck deep in the gay volleyball anime, hoodie and cardboard cutout and everything. Your life is falling apart.

But Brooklyn is nice. It had snowed when you stepped off of the plane. Thousands of snowflakes sprinkling into your hair, dotting your cheeks and nose. You missed this sight back in Cali. You missed your parents, too. 

Home cooked meals, old sweaters, your old room and about 40GB worth of old high school pictures on your computer. You went through them all one night. Some were stomach churning, cringe inducing nightmares. You were especially fond of those. Texted some of your friends that were still in Brooklyn, met up, decided to bake. Bad idea, Rae was the resident chef back in Cali. Besides laughing till your stomach hurt, and almost burning down your kitchen, nothing all that significant happened. Somewhere down the line, at about 3 am, half-way through a cheesy rom-com you had the overwhelming urge to text Corpse.

That’s where the problems really started. God, you missed California, missed being in the same timezone with a guy you hadn’t even met yet, how embarrassing is that?! You missed skating around and taking pictures of the beach in the setting sun, sending it to him, silently wishing he was with you to admire the view. 

You really want to call him. And to hang out with him. But for some reason, the thought of that springs up immediate anxiety and you shy away from asking. Him sending you cute good morning texts doesn’t help, either. Maybe it’s better he doesn’t know that you’re a blushing, stuttering mess each time you read “baby”. 

Late evening. Your stream is already set up, people are slowly trickling in and you greet them with a grin and a soft “Hello! Hi hi!”. You did your best to make your room a perfectly chaotic backdrop - led lights, an embarrassing amount of anime merch and plushies. You always try to balance out your weeb side by dressing hot as fuck for your streams - today’s inspiration just so happens to be egirls. Mostly because you watched one too many egirl make-up tutorials on TikTok, and also because you’ve been listening to Corpse’s song all day.

Yeah, no, who are you kidding, you dressed up this way because you were hoping Corpse was watching your stream. You didn’t forget your cat headphones, either. You know he likes them. You want to make him suffer. Perhaps then, finally, he will ask you out, so you wouldn’t have to.

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“I feel like,” You start when you put away your phone, staring idly at the chat, “I feel like I need a new name for you guys. Calling you guys after two years of streaming is just... weird, no? I also don’t respect men so I don’t want to call you guys. Like, so many creator’s have, like, a name for their fans. Uhm, Cody Ko has the chodesters, Kurtis Conner has, uh, folks? Kurtis Town? Citizens! Markiplier has mommy issues--” You can’t help snorting, “So, I’ve been, like, thinking - I know, shocking! - so I was thinking I’m gonna name you cockroaches. Because you’re grimy little shits impossible to kill. And also then I can use the legendary Minaj meme ROACHES!”

Your stream enthusiastically echoes ROACHES, making the chat swim. Yes, if anyone would enjoy such a name, it would be your audience. You’re as equally proud as you are disturbed.

“Well, anyway.” Leaning back into your chair, you throw your arms out with a bright grin, “Big dick is back in town, baby! If you noticed the backdrops different, it’s cuz I’m in Brooklyn now. Don’t ask me when I will return to Always Sunny, I don’t plan that far ahead.”

While Minecraft boots up, you decide to answer a few questions.

r u dating sykkuno?

You want to smack your head into the keyboard, but as it is, you can’t exactly afford a new one, so you refrain, “No, Sykkuno and I are not dating, we are just good friends. Uhm, I’m not sure how much I’ll have to repeat this, but, we really aren’t, so if the roaches could chill - Oh my God, that sounds so stupid, I love it - uh, yeah, if the roaches could chill that’d be great.”

the roaches lmao sounds like we’re a sports team

“Oh shit, yeah it does, uh-- maybe I can make like, jerseys or something. That’d be cool, I think.”

how disappointed are your parents with the way your life turned out?

“My parents are actually not disappointed at all!” You say with a cute little smile, “Uhm, they’re both really proud, actually. They’re glad I found something I love doing and made a job outta it. Dad finds my Youtube videos endearing. Yes, they watch pretty much all of my videos, unless I explicitly tell them not to. And yeah, with all the fucks and thirsting for anime characters. Uhm, it was very embarrassing at first, but I mean, after a while, shame just...doesn’t exist anymore, I guess? Funny thing about my parents, actually, when they watch my videos-” You eye catches a comment, “Oh! No, they only watch my Youtube videos. They don’t know how to use Twitter, thank God. Uhm, anyway-- when they hear a name they don’t know, like, I dunno, Dabi, or something, they google--” You’re grinning by now, eyes crinkling, giggling softly, “--who that is, and buy me like, merch and stuff. It’s really cute. 

can i be adopted by ur parents plz

will you and corpse ever collab?!

You were about to answer, though the man of the hour himself decides to do it for you.

Corpse_Husband: yes.

Okay, not to say your heart skipped a beat, but it totally did. With a pleased smile, you nod, like one of those bobble head toys sold at the dollar store. The motion is oddly reminiscent of Sykkuno’s own nod. Perhaps you had picked it up from him. The chat seems to notice.

pack it up, sykkuno

More questions pile about this mysterious collab you and Corpse are planning. Yeah, you’d like to hear more about it, too, since he single highhandedly decided one was happening right now. Corpse remains silent. Fine, keep your secrets. 

“Okay, guys, oh, I mean, roaches, Oh my God--” You’re covering your mouth, giggling, “-calling all roaches, calling all roaches, calm down. Everyone grab a snack and a blanket I’m turning up the music volume so we can all chill. Entering chill zone. Entering chill zone. Roaches, prepare.”

we are prepared

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An hour or so passes and you grow hungry. It shows with the amount of cakes you had baked in your server. Currently, you find yourself throwing eggs at the wall of one of the renovated houses, your face scrunched in concentration and slight frustration. 24 of the 50 eggs have been wasted. “What’s a girl gotta do to get some chicks around here?” you had uttered under your breath, until, finally, a screech - the egg finally spawns a mob. Your mouth falls open, “Aww, look!” You approach it, so small, walking in zigzags beside you, “It’s a baby chicken! Die, bitch.” The baby chicken is no more as you swing your bedazzled (you have mods) diamond sword. You’re cackling by the time the dust settles.

y/n is a child murderer

“Roaches,” You address your fan-base, spurring another fit of laughter - you can’t get over the name, “I think I’m like, forgetting that eating in Minecraft won’t actually make less hungry in real life.”

take a break and go eat queen <3

“Fuck no, we starve and die like men. Now I actually really need another chicken.”

Another twenty minutes trickle by and you’re trying to lure back a panda from the jungle when there’s a knock on your bedroom’s door. Whipping your head to the side, you slide down your headphones. At the same time, your mom pokes her head through the ajar door, “MOM!” You scream, “Get OUT of my room I’m playing Minecraft!” But your yell has no actual bite to it, as you don’t manage to hide your smile. Your mom laughs, doing some sort of sign language and motioning for you to follow her with her head. That or it’s some sort of performative dance. 

“I’m live right now,” You tell her, pointing at your screen. She knows this already, though, “do you want to say hi?” 

The roaches spam the chat with friendly hellos. You mom, quite impatient now, waves you over. 

“Sorry, roaches, mom needs something. Be back in a bit!”

Stopping the stream, you rush out of your seat and pleased she slinks into the hallway. “What’s this about?”

“Your pizza came.”

“My what now?” You echo, confused.

“Domino’s. You ordered pizza?”

“What? No? I was busy with the stream, I never--”

Thankfully, you had managed to grab your phone from your room before you exited. You almost choke on spit once you read the messages.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

You decide that it’ll be impossible to stream after experiencing what you had just experienced. You tweet out a quick apology to the roaches (God, that fucking name) and say that you had a breakdown but you’re okay. That is as a close to the truth as you managed to muster. It’s a sad sight, chewing and crying; your mom winced when she saw your state - disheveled hair and rundown eyeliner and everything. “D’aww,” She had muttered, caressing the top of your head, “don’t cry my little raccoon.”

If anyone was ever to ask you where did your chaotic nature come from, you’d answer with my mom. To make yourself feel better, you took a selfie - duck face and peace sign and the horrible 2000′s angle. Sent it to Rae. 

looking hot, her message read. 

thanks, was all you replied with.

You couldn’t just leave things as they were. Once you calmed down, you wanted to text Corpse, but how would you follow up the ungodly caps lock and screeching? Impossible. An idea sprung to mind, one that was brave. Taking the first step.

Instead of sending a text, you sent a voice memo.

“Thank you for the pizza, it was delicious.”

You voice still sounded a bit raspy. His reply was instant. Your heart skipped a beat. He sent a voice memo back.

“Glad you liked it, baby.”

He was going to be the death of you.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @slashersdream - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai - @truly-dionysus - @multi-fandom-central707

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

[rebgore]

two pages from eric harris’ journal

SOURCE

(SPAG mistakes kept in) transcript:

“I hate this fucking world, so many god damn fuckers in it. to many thoughts about societies all wrapped up together in this places called AMERICA. everyone has their own god damn opinions on every damn thing and you may be saying “well what makes you so different?.” because i have something only me and V have, SELF AWARENESS, call it exortenstiolism or whatever the fuck u want. we know what we are to this world and what everyone else is. we learn more than what caused the civil war and how to simplify quadratics in school. we have been watching you people. we know what you think and how you act, all talk and no actions. people who are said to be brave or couragous are usually just STUPID then they say later that they did it on purpose cause they are brave when they did it on fucking accident. GOD everything is so corrupt and so filled with opinions little and points of view and peoples’ own little agendas and shedules. this isnt a world anymore, it’s H.O.E and (no)one knows it. self awareness is a wonderful thing. I know I will die soon, so will you and everyone else. maybe will we be lucky and a comet will smash us back to day 1. people say it is immoral to follow others, they say be a leader. well here is a fuckin news flash for you stupid shits, everyone is a follower! everyone who says they arent a follower and then dresses diff. or acts diff.... They got that from something they saw on TV or in film or in life. no originality, JO MAMMA jokes are there and many do u think are original and not copied. KEINE. Its a fucking filthy place we live in. all these standards and laws and Great Expectations (webb) are making people into robots even though they might “think” they arent and try to deny it. no matter how hard they try to NOT copy someone I still AM! except for this fucking piece of paper right here, and B.T.W spelling is stupid unless I say. I say spell it how it sounds, it’s the fuckin easiest way. hey try this sometime, when someone tells you something, ask “why?” eventually they will be stumped and cant answer anymore. thats because they only know what they need to know in society and school, not real life science. they will end up saying words to this “because! Just shut up!” people that only know stupid facts that arent important should be shot, what fucking use are they. NATURAL SELECTION. KILL all r*tards, people w/ brain fuck ups, drug adics, people cant figure out to use a fucking lighter. GEEEAWD! people spend millions of dollars on saving the lives of r*tards, and why. I don’t buy that shit like “oh hes my son though!” so the fuck what, he aint normal, kill him, put him out his misery. he is only a waste of time and money, then people say “But he is worth the time, he is human too” no he isnt, if he was then he would swallow a bullet cause he would realize what a fucking waste and burden he was. — 4/10/98”

[batarella]

The Prince of Gotham (Jason Todd x Reader)

absolutely love love love this one. Thank you again for the suggestions from my dearest friends in the taglist. You are all so amazingly talented. 

PRESENTING THE DAMNED PRINCE OF GOTHAM. I MEAN IS THERE EVEN A HOTTER VERSION OF JAYBIRD THAN THIS????

WORDS: 4509 WARNINGS: UNPROTECTED SEX. ORAL SEX FEMALE RECEIVING. FUCKING AGAINST THE AQUARIUM IN HIS ROOM. THE POOR FISH.

Masterlist

Call him damned, or whatever the tabloids call him as Bruce Wayne’s forgotten son, the son he almost never talks about. Jason Todd will be damned for all that was left of his second life.

The glass was cold on his lips, even colder between his fingers. The Falcones were here again. At least one of them running their mouths at another million-dollar loss. He placed the glass onto a waiter’s tray and placed his firm hands into his jacket pockets.

Miguel came over to him, whispering about a blackjack table with an unruly foreigner throwing the cards at the other players. Surprised it wasn’t of the Falcones, Jason whispered something back. And the next thing he knew, Miguel was taking the culprit into the suite.

No one has crossed him too much. Yet. And not much has happened, either. At least by now, something should have happened. Penguin’s goons. Two Face’s. A worthwhile encounter with any of the beautiful women catching his eye. But there had been nothing. Nothing worth thinking twice about.

A crime lord. In Batman’s fucking city. It’s a death wish not many can escape from, not many can succeed in. The Dark Knight will eventually find some dirt on you, but him? His son? He’ll take it as a free pass. He smiled at a photographer taking a quick photo of him, straightening his jacket. The papers have been all over him tonight, more often than the past week. Just yesterday he saw an article about how he’s now up against Dick Grayson as the most sought-after Wayne bachelor.

The nightly performance should be up soon. He was told they’d bring in a number of beautiful women who usually danced at the bars on the outskirts of Gotham, so it should be something these strip club enthusiast pigs haven’t seen so often. Jason walked over behind the booths.

“Mr. Todd!” A man came to him with a crouched back, ginger hair and freckles that covered half his face. Stretching his hand out that wasn’t holding his camera, Jason firmly shook it. “Jimmy Olsen from the Daily Planet. Is it okay if I ask a few questions?”

“Ask away.”

“Proprietorship over the Iceberg Lounge costs millions of dollars, Mr. Todd. Did you have any financial assistance from Mr. Wayne in your investments?”

He wanted to scoff.

“No. I’m all on my own.”

“Are you involved in any of Wayne Enterprises’ operations, then?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Then what other means of income did you have prior to the Iceberg?”

Blackmail. Robbery. Decapitating drug lords’ heads. Among others.

“My father taught me how to invest in the stock market with more accurate predictions than the average person.”

“You’re not so often mentioned by Mr. Wayne.”

“Well, I am the second eldest son. And there may have been a falling out at the time I was wrongfully declared legally dead. But now? I assume Bruce will have plenty of good things to say about me.”

“Mr. Wayne has not released any statement about your ownership of the Iceberg, Mr. Todd. The media has gone rampant after the Mr. Wayne’s absence in the Lounge’s opening ceremony.”

He wasn’t invited.

“I’m sure he was busy.”

“And your siblings?”

“They should be as well.”

“Last question, Mr. Todd. Will all eight of Mr. Wayne’s children have an equal share of his wealth?”

Huh. He’s never thought of that. “Perhaps. What are people saying?”

“Mr. Wayne is currently worth eighty billion dollars. That would mean you’d inherit ten billion dollars along with your other siblings.”

Shit. Maybe threatening Bruce with his identity a few days back wasn’t the brightest idea.

“Right now, I’m worth more than any of my siblings,” Jason smiled at the camera. “And if Mr. Wayne does give me an eighth of his fortune, I’d be sure to give you guys a first at an interview as the youngest new billionaire.”

Kylie Jenner can suck it.

The music started blaring out from the speakers. Burlesque music. He took another glass of champagne from a waiter and nodded at Jimmy Olsen. “Thank you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Todd!” he exclaimed.

Jason’s eyes were on stage. Five women with feathers around their arms twirled, moving their legs so gracefully to the music. They only had so much clothes on. Sipping into his glass, he moved closer to the stage.

.

A kiss may be grand but it won't pay the rental

On your humble flat, or help you at the automat

Men grow cold as girls grow old

And we all lose our charms in the end

But square cut or pear shaped

These rocks don't lose their shape

Diamonds are a girl's best friend

.

You caught his eye more than anyone else in the damn room.

You were staring right at him, then with your soft, lace covered hands, you ran it over the side of your cheek, over your red-stained lips. You were covered in red. And the wig you had, a short blonde one, you had that Marilyn Monroe look he always had a thing for. You reminded him of Isabel, the flight attendant he once dated. But you? On stage with your legs covered in the most intricate fish nets, you were definitely something else.

You looked at him again. Perhaps you knew who he was. Your mouth so slightly parted, and the feathers grazed against your glistening lips. Jason smiled at you. You didn’t smile back. At the next move, you moved to the other side of the stage and faced away from him.

Jason then walked over to your side, standing beside a booth. You were looking at the business moguls drooling over you at their table. But then your eyes darted to him again, this time with the slightest smirk. You turned around, along with the rest of the dancers, and bent over.

Jason’s eyebrow quirked up at the sight of your ass, but he kept silent, drinking his wine. Your eyes were immediately on him the moment you stood back up. He held his glass up at you, smiling, and you ignored him once again.

Biting his lip, he watched you throw out your feather scarf over your shoulder, holding onto another dancer’s waist as you grinded onto her, so slowly with the song changing to something a bit more seductive. You then walked off the stage and continued your choreography holding your scarves over people’s necks.

You walked over to the Falcones, avoiding their grabby hands. You almost kissed the best looking one in the group, your chest so close to the tip of his nose. Rolling his eyes, Jason sipped on his glass.

But then you turned to him, your lips subtly curving up. You were making your way to him, most probably knowing he owned the place, because you walked ever so slowly to his way, cheekily winking at all the other men fawning over you.

And when you’d stood in front of him, smelling like sweet, yet strong rose petals in a garden, the tension was immense. You were absolutely gorgeous. And his eyes were all over you.

Slowly, ever so slowly, you put your face so closely to his while your delicate fingers drew a line across his shoulders, his collarbone, over the muscles on his arms. He pretended not to be so shaken, standing still with the glass between his lips.

You were enjoying yourself just as much as Jason did. But he was practically growling in hunger as you swayed your hips, momentarily pushing your ass to his crotch but not near enough to actually touch it. Jason couldn’t care less about all the other people around him. As far as he knew, you were the only one in the room.

Then you placed your scarf around his neck, your forehead so slightly brushing against his. Your breath was hot, too hot, and your body was glistening under the pale blue light. Jason licked his lips before you left to go back on stage.

Looking down at the red feathered scarf around his neck, Jason walked over backstage just before the number came to an end.

-----

“Mr. Todd!”

A large woman with a fur coat big enough to have been from an actual bear came up to him. “Did you enjoy my girls?”

“I did,” Jason said. “Where are they?”

“They’re just about to finish up at the dressing room. Would you like to meet one of them?”

“Send them all out to the casinos for the night. I’m sure all the guests would be delighted to have them around at the lounge,” Jason said. “If they want to, of course.”

“They would love to. If you can excuse me, Mr. Todd.”

Jason nodded at the woman who then walked into the dressing room. He waited outside, just by one of the slot machines.

The girls walked out of the room, now dressed in long gowns, their backs bare and the slits on their legs high up to their thighs. You no longer wore your wig, but your natural hair looked even better on you, if Jason had to say. You were the last to come out, and the seductive, shameless demeanor you once had was now replaced with a shy, silent, yet beautiful disposition. Your dress was the same color red as his Red Hood mask. He loved it.

You caught his eye, stopping your tracks, then you brought your purse up to your torso as if you were covering yourself from him.

Jason walked over to you, stretching out his hand. You looked at his arms, then at his face. You didn’t smile at him, but slowly, you held his hand for a firm shake.

But he didn’t shake it. Instead, he brought it up to his lips, delicately pressing it against the back of your hand as if you were so fragile. But you sighed at his gesture, and you couldn’t help but step closer.

“Jason Todd,” he said, still not letting go of your hand.

“Y/FN.”

Your voice was sweeter than your scent.

“You were amazing out there, Y/N.”

“I didn’t realize I was dancing for the Iceberg’s new owner, Mr. Todd.”

“Call me Jason. Please.”

So you didn’t know who he was, and still you danced for him like no one else. Interesting.

“A drink?”

You nodded. Jason motioned for a waiter to his direction and he took two glasses from the tray, handing one out to you. “Walk with me, Y/N.”

Your lips stained the glass’s rim with a faint coral. He looked away before you’d catch him staring too much at it.

“How do you find the place?”

“It’s perfect, much better than when Mr. Cobblepot owned the place.”

“So you’ve danced here before?”

“A few times. I didn’t like it as much. Who knew a handsome young bachelor such as you would turn the place so much more interesting?”

Your eyes were piercing. And every so often, as you walked past the crowd, he’d catch you looking at him longer than you should.

“Being one of Bruce Wayne’s wards has its perks.”

“You are definitely different from your siblings.”

“In a good way?”

“In the best way.”

You’ve reached the dance floor, where drunken socialites had a glass on one hand while holding onto some businessman or crime lord half their height with the other. The live band was playing jazz music for now, and with the lights coming to a dim, Jason stretched out his hand for you again. “Dance with me, Ms. Y/N?”

Placing your glasses onto a waiter’s tray, you took it, and he placed his hand on your waist, yours on his shoulder. And with the other, he held your fingers with a slight brush against your thumb.

“You must do this with a whole number of women, sir.”

Sir. You didn’t say it the way you called him Mr. Todd. You said it seductively. Oh, he definitely had that kink.

“On the contrary, I don’t.”

“So the Prince of Gotham isn’t a stud after all?”

“Not at all. But women don’t hate me, that’s for sure.”

His grip on your waist tightened, and you were pulling him closer. “I sure hope you like me, Ms. Y/LN.”

“Call me Y/N, and I think I like you just fine.”

The smell of rose petals yet again. Your faces were so close, and you danced at a slower pace than everyone else in the room. “I’d like to get to know you better. You have a show tomorrow night, Y/N?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Dinner. With me at the rooftop lounge. I’ll reserve a special table with the best view.”

“Just thought you should know, I cannot be reeled in over wealth and gifts.”

“Not that kind of woman, huh?”

You smirked. “I don’t think so.”

“Is that a no?”

“If you weren’t so rich, or if you weren’t so alike to your playboy father, maybe I’d immediately say yes.”

He twirled you around so skillfully you almost squealed. “Then let me prove to you I’m no rich playboy.”

“You have the whole night.”

He pressed his forehead against yours, smirking as you looked into his eyes. You were warm, and even if you weren’t so immensely sexy, he was still so drawn to you, he’ll make sure to make the night worthwhile.

The song ended, and reluctantly, he pulled away from you, but not without a kiss to your hand once again.

“You may not be that kind of girl, but what if I take you up to my room?”

He watched your face, looking for any signs of hesitation. Even at just the slightest bit of pressure, he wouldn’t push it. But the wide smile on your face and the enthusiastic nod reassured him. “Lead the way.”

Jason held out his elbow for you to take, and you wrapped your hand around your bicep as you walked to the back of the room, to the elevators no one was supposed to go into. He heard whispers from socialites left and right, how he was taking a burlesque girl up to his room. They’ll call you cheap, for sure. But even if they had half the charm you had, he’d pick you in a crowd of hundreds in a heartbeat.

You didn’t seem to mind. You walked into the elevator, still holding onto his arm, and you walked out into a hall of glass walls and crystal statues. At the end of the hall was the door to his room. And with no one around, Jason led you inside.

You placed your purse on a console table, marveling over the immensely luxurious bedroom. The walls were still of the same crystal-like glass, blue all over the walls. There was a couch and living area to the left, and right in front was his own liquor bar, which he walked over to immediately after pulling out a seat for you to take. Behind it was a beautiful aquarium, large enough to fill up the whole wall. Walking over to it, watching the fish move around the corals and seaweed, Jason took out a bottle of champagne and poured both of you a new glass.

“You have quite the exquisite taste.”

“I’m hoping that doesn’t turn you off as much.”

Handing you a glass, you clinked it against his and sipped. “Your charm makes up for it. I take it you weren’t born with a silver spoon up your ass?”

He laughed. “No. Glad you should mention that. I grew up in the streets, in fact.”

“You and I both.”

Another lipstick stain on the rim of your glass, and your eyes still on the fish of the aquarium. He had to stop staring so much.

“Where’s your next performance?”

“I’m not so sure yet. Our manager usually tells us of our performances on the day.”

“Call me. I’d love to watch you again.”

Smiling as you walked over to the liquor bar’s stool, Jason put his arm on the bar’s surface. “Why me?”

He was flustered. “Well, other than the fact that your beauty absolutely captivates me, red happens to be my favorite color.”

“A way with words, you have, Jason Todd.”

You both placed your empty glasses on the table, and Jason started to put his face nearer to yours, leaning towards you from the other side of the bar. You were pushing your ass out, leaning towards him in turn. With a brush of his fingers against your cheek, you bit your lips.

“May I take another step at convincing you over that date?”

“Take as many measures as you want.”

You were first to lean in to his lips, and you were warm, so soft, and incredibly addicting. That rosy smell was now mixed with the faint remnants of champagne. He breathed in, walking over to your side at the table so he could roam his hands around your hair, your neck, your waist. He stopped, and you went on to kiss his neck, and he leaned over to push on the lever under your seat so you’d be elevated up to his height. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed him again and you felt his hand snake up your thigh.

“You sure those-“ you breathed. “-socialites downstairs wouldn’t mind?”

“I don’t care.” He smiled at you. Jason took off his suit jacket and you worked him off his tie. His red dress shirt was a shade lighter than your dress, and all you could think about were the thick muscles he had on under his clothes, how huge he was compared to any other man you’ve ever been with. Your hands on his face, you spread your legs so he could settle himself between them.

Shit, this was hot. Your heavy breaths, your gasps, the slight mewl when he’d bite into your neck, he lifted you up on your thighs and carried you to the other side of the liquor bar. Now sitting taller than him, he could nip at your chest easily, biting into your collarbone. Your legs were hooked around his waist and with neither of you fixing the straps of your dress falling down your shoulder, you moaned in delight when his hands squeezed onto your thighs.

With your help, he fiddled with his belt buckle and unzipped his pants, never leaving your lips while he was at it. Hiking your dress up to your waist, he groaned when your hand suddenly started to pump his length.

“You really got it all, Mr. Todd,” you winked.

“Like what you see?”

“Yes, sir.”

He swore his dick twitched.

Then he started attacking your neck, the top of your breast. He pushed your dress down so he could bite into the skin of your now exposed breasts. Of course you weren’t wearing a bra. He didn’t know what he expected. Eyes closed shut, moaning even louder, he tipped over a few glasses when he leaned his weight over you. Your legs were in the air, and you were holding onto him so you wouldn’t fall off.

Kneeling down, your fingers locked onto his hair, Jason looked up at you as he pushed you further toward the edge of the surface, your exposed ass cold against the bar. He kneaded your thighs, so skillfully well you could probably cum just as that, then the cheeky bastard started biting at the hem of your stockings.

Smiling down at him, you watched him pull them down your legs with his teeth, before he’d traced his burning hot tongue up the skin of your inner thighs. Your thongs were thin enough for him to know you’d feel his breath if he ghosted his mouth over you, so that was exactly what he did. And watching your reactions, and the way you pulled even tighter into his hair, he stood back up to pull your lips back to his.

You bit at his lip, feeling the tip of his warm cock play with your folds.

And when he’d slid inside you, your nails raked onto his back, nevermind his shirt to protect him. You weren’t so shy anymore when you suddenly tore his shirt open, the buttons flying to whatever direction to the ground. Smiling as he thrusted inside you, your nails traced the outlines of his abs. So fucking hot…

He probably heard another glass break, but he didn’t care. Jason picked you up once again, turned around, then pushed your back flat against the aquarium’s glass. The fish were frantically swimming around in panic, especially when he started pounding against you and the window shook in loud thuds. You screamed, and with a bite onto your neck, the tip of his cock hit that side of your tight walls clenching around him to hard, he wanted to break the glass.

He moaned into your ear, effortlessly keeping you up with his hands on your thighs. He thrusted into you, gaining speed the more you screamed and moaned his name. He caught your lips, bit onto them even when he didn’t want you to be quiet. This was fucking hotter than anything he’s ever experienced.

And he didn’t want this to end so quickly. Not with you. Something to captivating within you made him want to take his sweet time, enjoy your body he was lucky enough to have at the first night. He didn’t want this to be just for tonight, no. He wanted you to come back, to make you feel so good you’ll have to say yes to that date. So he lifted you up once again, his cock still lodged inside you, and he carried you into bed.

Fuck, you were so hot splayed out on his bed like that, your thighs drenched and your hair a mess. Jason took his dress shirt off, throwing it to the floor, then he helped you slide off of your dress, your thongs, your stockings, and fucking hell, you were beautiful.

Jason took off his pants, and before you could pull him in, he leaned over to the side of the bed and pressed on two buttons. One of them dimmed the lights to a sexy, seductive red glare, and the other put on some music. Some slow rap song he didn’t have the liberty of choosing, and it made you giggle. You obviously didn’t want him fiddling around with more buttons, so you pulled onto his shoulders and hooked both your legs around him.

Moaning, your hands gripping onto the sheets, Jason kissed your breasts and midriff so breathily slow that it made you a writhing mess. He leaned over to your cunt, breathing against it to make you jolt, then he lapped his tongue over you so gently your back arched high up to the air. He inserted a finger, then another, and you were screaming his name over and over, shaking each time he thrusted inside you. “Fuck,” he moaned, before lapping at your clit with the tip of his tongue.

Yes. Moan. Scream. Twitch at his touch. Just watching you would’ve been enough to get him off. The lights, the room, the music, it was all perfect. “Is that a yes on that date now?”

“If you don’t continue fucking me right now, I might never call you.”

He laughed and went back up to your lips, grinding against you so deliciously slow, his shaft grazing up your cunt, he held onto you as you jolted up. Suddenly, he flipped you over, and you squealed as he held your ass up, licking his fingers as he played with your pussy. You buried your head against the soft pillows and moaned as he slid back inside you, hands roughly gripping onto your hips.

“Oh! Oh! Oh!!!” you screamed, and with his arm holding onto your shoulders, he held you up, keeping that sexy arch of your back intact with his other hand, and with your head falling to his shoulder, he pulled you up for a kiss. Hands all over your breasts, skin so flustered and over stimulated, you felt burning. Jason bit your lip too hard when he felt your already tight pussy clench around him. Forehead against yours, he looked right into your eyes and snapped his hips into your ass, making you shriek.

“Fuck! Do that again, sir!”

Fucking hell.

He did it again. And again. And again and again.

He’s never been so intimate with a stranger, never took so much time to make them feel good. And even when he’d just met you, something didn’t want him to make this a single night of quick, meaningless sex to keep him going through the day. Something wanted him to make this more than that.

So he kissed you, long and hard. And with your limbs trembling and shaking hard enough to make you fall, he held you up, holding himself back from the immense pain and pleasure that went with you clenching so hard around him, he hissed and gave in.

He came, and you both fell to the bed, his chest pressed against your back, he sloppily kept up with his thrusts and rode out his high. He shuddered, spilling so much of his load inside you. Fuck, this was too good for him. He kissed your shoulders, your back, then your cheek. You looked amazing, and undoubtably grateful. Jason turned you around, legs around his body, and kept kissing you all throughout the night.

Fucking a stranger, sure. But making love to one? Not exactly what people would have in mind. But somehow, with you, nothing has ever felt better. Nothing felt so right.

And eventually, when the ripe beginnings of sunshine had met his window, you kissed him once again before walking back over to pick your clothes from the ground. “My phone’s over there,” you pointed to your purse. “Give me your number.”

Pinching your butt cheek, Jason took your phone. He then gave you his and you put your number with a little heart next to your name.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a night like that with someone I barely know.”

“Neither have I.”

Smiling, and with your clothes back on, you leaned over to him and kissed him, before walking out of the room. Biting the inside of his gums, he put on his clothes, walked over to the liquor bar, then turned over to face the fish.

A push on the remote he had opened the screens behind the aquarium. His hand in his pockets, he watched as the glass unfolded.

“You alright there, Cobblepot?”

“You. Fucking. Tool,” Penguin growled from behind the glass, his clothes and hair a mess. Probably from almost tearing them out from his skin in frustration.

“Shut up. At least I had the decency to shut the glass and the one way mirror. You didn’t see anything.”

The stout man looked absolutely traumatized. “And you just forgot to turn the sounds off?”

“Oh,” he sipped on his wine. “Whoops.”

  Taglist: everyartistwas-firstanamateur  @sarcasmismyfirstlove @damned-queen-of-gotham @idkmanicantenglish @wunderstell @birdy-bat-riya @get-loki@everyday-imfangirling @comic-nerd-dc @multifandoms916 @icequeen208@offendedfishnoises @egdolan @xemiefx @arkhamtoddler @elsenthal@mythicbitchx @supremehaunter @ burning-alive  @lucy-roo  roseangel013bf @ loxbbg  reclusive-chicken-nuggethttp-cherries shadowsndaisiesriver9noble zphilophobiazannoylinglyaries @knightfall05x​

[pagesoflauren]

The Highest Bidder Ch. 3 (Ransom Drysdale x reader; sugar daddy!AU)

Summary: A graduate-level education is a costly pursuit. When you move out of state to study in Boston, expenses pile up, leading you to auction off what is apparently your most valuable asset: your virginity. It goes to the highest bidder…who happens to be Ransom Drysdale.

There are no major spoilers for Knives Out. Consider this as an alternate timeline. There will be references to the movie/its characters. This chapter contains some dynamics of the Thrombey family that are revealed in the movie, which--as someone who has seen the movies multiple times--I personally consider to be very minor spoilers. Please read at your own risk.

Warnings: loss of virginity, explicit sexual content/smut, angst, sugar daddy/baby arrangement, dark elements, dubcon, cliffhangers, minor spoilers for Knives Out, swearing, Ransom is an asshole (more to add and if you spot any that I’ve missed, please kindly let me know!)

A/N: Thanks for being super patient while I worked on this! This one’s mostly plot, so I promise the next one will be smutty 😏

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Ransom slams the door of his car as he sits in the driver’s seat.

His fucking family.

There was meant to be a “pleasant Sunday brunch-adjacent get-together” for the release party of Harlan’s newest book. His family is never pleasant no matter what day they gather, so Ransom should’ve known it would’ve turned into a shitshow. 

Walt had been parading around boasting about how proud he was of “his and dad’s new book” to anyone outside of the family who would listen. Ransom’s father decided to pick a little fight with him, despite his mother’s urging not to. 

“But they aren’t your books, are they Walt?” Richard taunted, “They’re Harlan’s books.”

Ransom had parked himself right at the refreshments table, nudging the platter of breakfast pastries closer to himself. He idly picked up a croissant and nibbled as he watched everything unfold. “Shit stirring prick,” Meg muttered as she grabbed a cup of coffee. 

“This is all them, Meggy,” he said, his mouth full of soft, buttery croissant flakes. “I’m just getting a front row seat for the entertainment.”

Meg rolled her eyes and walked away. Walt had smiled simply before replying. “Of course, Richard. Just like how the real estate company is Linda’s, not yours.”

Linda then elbowed Richard, a hard signal to defend himself from her little brother’s jab like the “proud husband” he’s supposed to be.

“At least Linda was able to build something on her own.” Ransom rolled his eyes at that statement while his mother patted his father on the shoulder. 

“Only because dad was generous enough to loan her a million dollars to build that company.”

Ransom dipped his croissant into his coffee and smirked as he chewed. When his father didn’t say anything, his mother blew her cap at both of them. 

It started out relatively quiet before escalating into a full on spectacle. Across the room, Ransom saw Harlan exchange a look with Marta, his nurse, before completely ignoring the situation and returning to the conversation he was having with a guest. 

“You can’t say shit, Richard, you’re getting nothing from his family!”

Ransom laughed loudly at the truth in that declaration. The three pairs of eyes turned and fingers pointed at him before insults were spewed his way. 

Rolling his eyes, he let them at him, not caring what they were saying. It was all true. He was a little piece of shit, an entitled prick, he was all of it. 

Because of them.

Leaving his half eaten croissant in his coffee cup, he placed it on the table and coolly sauntered across the room, slander following him all the way until it was directed back within the group. 

Ransom had grabbed a copy of the book, given his granddad a nod of acknowledgement as a goodbye, then left. If he listened hard enough, he could hear the yelling all the way from the parking lot. Harlan looked a little disappointed as he left. 

What did Harlan ever do for him anyway, besides give him a generous monthly allowance? What did his parents ever do for him? His mother spent her days running a real estate company while his father devoted his time to doing everything he could to get his hands on some of that money. 

And where did Ransom fall in all of this? 

Nobody actually cared about him. They shut him up with money and invited him to parties to make him feel like he was part of something. In reality, his family was nothing to be a part of. There wasn’t anything to them. Just a pile of mystery novels that turned words into money and fed it to hungry beasts. And Ransom was one of them. 

That’s what he was, that’s what he was always meant to be. His mother never let him be a kid. When the grass was bright green after all the snow melted and Ransom rolled around, staining his crisp private school uniform with virescent splotches, she yelled at him. When she instructed her husband to continue the scolding, he gave a half-assed, “Don’t do it again.” The day was ruined after that. 

And somehow, in the moment when he breathed in your perfume, he remembered one of the few moments where he was content: watching the world spin as the sky was down and the ground was up and the conifers looked like stalactites in a strange cave. 

He loved remembering that. And it terrified him. The second he started remembering the brief golden moments of his childhood, he knew it was best to get himself off as soon as possible and take off. He’d hold on to memories of how you felt around his cock for when he couldn’t get between a girl’s legs. 

He’ll never admit to anyone how often he thinks of you and the time he spent sharing a bed with you. 

Shaking his head and starting the car, he pulled away from the party venue and drove through the city. At a stoplight, he picks up the hefty novel and flips it to the back cover.

He reads something about a statue and a dead art historian. Rolling his eyes, already disinterested, he throws the book back on the seat. 

Passing through the university area, Ransom decides to grab a cup of coffee. He pulls into a parking spot, ignoring the blinking red light of the meter as he gets out to enter the cafe. 

He does a double take when he sees you exiting with a man. You look completely different: your hair is in a messy ponytail and your makeup is more natural, focusing on accentuating your features instead of looking glamorous. You’re donning a sweater with the name of the university just across the street. 

He’s rendered immobile at the sight of you. His thoughts come crashing down on him like an avalanche.

It’s been nearly two months since that night. He’s filled the days and weeks between now and then with various girls, all of whom were confident and sexy and unafraid to match his pace in bed. He could have any one of them at his doorstep with a snap of his fingers. 

So why is he suddenly frozen, watching you and some guy walk down the street? 

It was ridiculous, really, how much he had dreamt of your encounter, tried to recall your smell and the taste of your skin. He hates that he never got a sample from between your legs. He’d been so caught up in how you felt around his finger that it went straight to his cock and he just had to be inside you. 

He’s never been so caught up on anyone before. 

When he drinks whiskey, he sees you, turning in your dress and heels. He wonders if maybe he could see you again, maybe you’d be more confident, maybe more experienced…

Have you slept with anyone since July? Have you slept with the guy you’re with now?

His wonder causes him to mindlessly follow after you, sights set on the bright scrunchie that keeps your hair together as he imagines you underneath the guy you’re walking with, crying out as he thrusts into you…

Ransom doesn’t like the idea of that. He hates it, shakes his head to dispel it from his brain. Then he stops suddenly. 

But what does it matter? You weren’t anyone to him, just some girl on a website who auctioned your virginity and he bought it. He didn’t buy you. You weren’t his to own.

He’d be lying if he said he felt he got his money’s worth though. 

When he thinks about that night, besides all the erotic images of your face and how you felt wrapped so tightly around him, there was something underneath the heat and lust he felt. He saw curiosity come across your face multiple times that night and he felt the same. 

He wanted to know what you’d look like on top. He wanted to know what you tasted like (he still hates himself for not taking the opportunity). He wanted to know what sounds you’d make when he went rough. He wanted to know how you sounded when you let yourself succumb to complete, unrestrained pleasure. 

He knew you were holding back, he saw the terror that came across your face when you looked at his size. You barely even touched him. God, how would you touch him? How would your hands feel on him, running over his skin? 

There were so many things he wanted to know about you, so many things he wanted to watch you do. 

It terrified him to remember the brief blissful moments of his childhood while he was with you, and that’s why he left so quickly. But one night with you wasn’t enough.

The thought propels him forward, stepping after you again once he spies your scrunchie again. 

You’re turning a corner; he needs to catch up. His pace quickens. 

When has he ever chased a girl before?

As he rounds the corner, Ransom sees you stepping into a shop, appearing to playfully curtsey as the man holds the door open for you. He slows down a little, wanting it to appear as if he’s casually walking around. When he reaches the shop, he realizes it’s a used bookstore. 

Maybe I can grab Harlan’s book and pretend I’m selling it.

He decides against it though. He doesn’t want to risk you getting away from him. He enters the shop and immediately goes for the taller shelves to conceal himself from plain view. Peeking between the tops of the books and the next shelf above it, he spots you. You’re near the back, looking at the large, brightly colored children’s books. 

Shit, did he get you pregnant?! 

Ransom shakes his head then smiles to himself; he remembers hearing you gasp when he rolled a condom onto himself. He feels his cock twitch at the memory. 

“God, it’s so ridiculous that we have to buy our own books for clinicals,” he hears you gripe. 

“Yeah, but it’s good practice for when we’re actually in the field,” the man nudges you with his elbow, “We’re gonna have to figure out which books will suit clients’ interest and all.” 

“Yeah, I guess. I just wish I didn’t have to do this before work tonight.”

“Don’t you work at eight, though?”

Work? Why are you working when he gave you so much money?

“Yeah, but it’s less time preparing for seminar tomorrow. Not to mention the paper for fluency. Ugh, being a grad student is so hard, Toby,” you moan, leaning your forehead on his shoulder.

A hot puff of air shoots out from Ransom’s nose.

“Oh, stop it, you big baby. C’mon. It’s barely past one. We’re gonna get this done, then go back to my place and study a little. And remember why we’re doing this?” he asks, turning so his front is facing you. Your head sags for a moment, having leaned the weight of your skull on him before your neck straightens. 

“To help kids become better communicators,” you say together, as if it’s a mantra. 

“Exactly,” the man--Toby--smiles. “Besides, it’s Sunday. I’m pretty sure the diner won’t be super crowded like it was for me last night. If anything, it’s crowded with people trying to cure their hangovers right now. Then, when the diner’s empty, you can study. It’s just on the next block over, anyway. They know you’re a student, so I don’t think they’ll kick up a fuss if you crack open a notebook. It’s just you and the cook, too, right?”

You hum in affirmation as you pick up a book and tuck it under your arm. 

“So, that just shows they know nobody’s gonna be there! You’re golden!” 

You giggle as you swat his hand away when he makes to pinch you. Ransom leans forward into the bookcase in an attempt to get closer to you, enchanted by the sound. 

What the hell has gotten into him?!

“Sir, can I help you find something?” a store associate startles him.

“What--no, no. Absolutely not,” Ransom spews, fumbling around with his hands trying to look inconspicuous. His leather jacket squeaks with his movements. The associate looks confused, tilting their head as they watch him. 

“I’m just leaving,” he shakes his head, making his way to storm out the door. 

He makes his way back to his car, taking note of the diner Toby was talking about. It really was on the next block over, hard to miss with a gaudy 50s-style neon green light-up sign and fluorescent pink lettering.

Ransom smiles to himself as he makes his way back to his car. He knows exactly what to do.

The lighting in the diner is harsh against Ransom’s eyes and he blinks a little as he gets out of his car. It’s just before midnight and the streets are empty, save for a few students who are walking into the coffeeshop and drugstores around the block. Stepping in, checkered black and light gray tiles lay on the floor, though he’s certain the gray tiles are supposed to be white. There’s a counter with a bunch of red cushioned stools and booths all around the wall. 

“Evenin’ son,” the cook says as he peeks through the window on the wall beyond the counter. “You just take a seat right up here and our hostess will be right out.”

The man turns away and shouts your name.

Ransom smirks at the sound of your name, perching himself on a stool and immediately getting comfortable. The only thing that would make this better would be if the stools had backs so he could put his feet up. Instead, he rests his elbow on the counter and waits for you to come.

The kitchen door swings open.

“Sorry to keep you waiting--” your sentence stops short and he smiles deviously at you.

You’re in the same makeup and ponytail from earlier, though this time a pen is nestled where your hair is gathered, kept in place by the scrunchie you’ve been wearing. Instead of your university sweatshirt, you’re sporting a denim blue button up waitress dress, complete with a sewn on oval white patch with your name stitched into it. There’s a white apron tied around your waist. 

His smirk deepens more. If anything, this is almost like the start to a bad porn film. One where he’d bend you over the counter and--

“Hi, Ransom,” you greet him, interrupting his almost fantasy. 

“Hey,” he nods, so satisfied in your surprised expression. 

You awkwardly place the menu in front of him and wring your hands a little.

“Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee?”

Ransom hums, pink lips puckering before he answers, “Hot chocolate, actually.”

Your nod is a little perplexed. “Okay, right. I’ll go get that for you.”

You turn to the espresso machine behind you and Ransom likes the view of your ass he’s treated to as he opens the menu. Once he’s decided, he looks up, seeing your back still turned to him as you watch hot chocolate trickle into a mug. He knows it can’t be that interesting.

“Hey,” he calls, disrupting your focus.

You whirl around, ponytail whipping about with the movement of your head. “Huh?”

“I’m ready,” he says, holding up the menu.

“Oh,” you reach into the pocket of your apron and pull out a notepad before plucking the pen from your hair. “What’ll it be?”

He multitasks, reciting his order and watching you at the same time. You seem to be avoiding looking at him, even when you ask him to clarify what bread he wants for his toast. Your eyes briefly dart up from your notepad to his face when you repeat his order.

When he hums in affirmation that you got his order correct, your movements seem to buffer. 

Got her, he thinks. 

You rip the sheet from the pad and hand it to the cook.

“Man, Monte Cristo crepes? At this time of night?”  the man whines.

Ransom gives an apathetic shrug.

“Well, alright then. You better tip our little miss here well so that she can split it with me.”

Ransom watches as you press your palm into your forehead, probably cringing at the idea of him tipping you after he paid you $50,000. 

You turn back to the espresso machine and grab the mug, carefully carrying it to him.

“Whipped cream?” you offer, taking out the silver canister from the fridge underneath the counter. 

“No,” he shakes his head, “I’d prefer having that in the bedroom.” 

You seem to huff a laugh at that and you put the canister back where it belongs. 

He takes a sip, then his face scrunches. 

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Is this imported?” 

It appears you can’t help the bewildered smile that comes across your face. “Um, I don’t know where it’s from, but I don’t think it’s imported.”

“Oh.” He gives an experimental sip, holding the liquid in his mouth before he swallows.

“Is it okay?” you ask.

So you’re a people pleaser… or you’re just a waitress trying to make sure your customer’s satisfied.

“Yeah, it’s acceptable.”

“Oh, good,” you smile, relieved. 

He only nods and turns his attention to the rest of the diner. It really is only the three of you there. Again, the idea of this situation being like a bad porno crosses Ransom’s mind. 

When he looks at you again, you’re cleaning the coffee machine.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Cleaning the coffee machine.”

“No, what are you doing here?”

You turn to look at him. “I’m working…?”

“Well, I can see that, but I gave you fifty grand.” 

Your head whips to look over at the cook. Ransom’s eyes follow, seeing he’s occupied at the stove. He didn’t appear to hear anything. “Fifty grand’s not nothing. Did they not send you the payment?”

“You know, I could ask you what you’re doing here, too. I didn’t pin you as someone who lived in the university area,” you say, changing the subject. 

“I don’t live around here.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Your eyes narrow. He can see you’re strategizing. 

“If I answer your questions, will you answer mine?”

“Sure,” Ransom relaxes as much as he can, though he has to be honest, the stool doesn’t give him that much lounging real estate. 

“They sent me the payment.”

“So, why are you working?”

“I go to school across the street. The money you gave me is enough to pay for the tuition costs not covered by financial aid. But I need to pay for books and rent and groceries. And it’ll be four more semesters until I finish my degree, so I’ll need a little more than what you gave me to keep my head above water.”

So that’s why you thanked him. He helped pay for your education. 

He nods, sipping his chocolate. As a plot forms in his head, he has to admit, for some cheap, unimported trash, it’s growing on him. Said plot would involve him getting what he wants from you and you no longer needing to work in this dump. He goes to open his mouth and you turn with a smile of your own. 

“You said if I answer your questions, then you’d answer mine.” 

“And if I don’t answer your question?” he challenges. 

You smile. “Then this conversation is over.”

You raise your eyebrows expectantly at him and he shakes his head, giving a half-shrug. 

“Just here to grab some Monte Cristo crepes and kill a craving,” he lies. Maybe the craving part is true, though. 

You hum in acknowledgement, though he’s not sure you fully accept his answer. Taking the towels you used to clean the coffee machine, you disappear into the back. When you return, you’re holding a notebook. 

“How long have you been working here?” 

“Why do you care?”

“Just trying to make conversation,” he feigns innocence.

“You don’t strike me as the kind of man who does that.”

Ah, so suddenly you have the ability to get a read on people? What other things does he not know about you? Your encounter at the hotel made him think you were some naive young woman who was sheltered all her life. In the fifteen minutes he’s been here, you’re showing him you’re anything but.

What else is there to discover about you? he wonders.

“I’m just asking because I might be able to help you. Financially.”

“Ransom, I have nothing else left to offer,” you say. 

So you think.

“And your payment was more than generous.”

The cook calls to you and places a plate on the kitchen window sill. You grab it and set Ransom’s order in front of him.

“Anything else I can get you?”

“Nothing...for now,” he remarks suggestively. 

You nod once and open your notebook. As Ransom revels in the cheesy goodness of the crepes in front of him, he watches you quickly jot down things onto the paper and listens to you mutter to yourself. 

As he scarfs down all the greasy morsels and chases each bite with hot chocolate, he considers badgering you more. But seeing how stressed you look, he decides to back off. 

If you were his mother, on the other hand…

When he’s done, he snaps his fingers at you. You look unamused at the gesture but clear his plate anyway. You bring it back to the kitchen. He hears some chatter and the sink running before you return and stand at the register. He’s again treated to a view of your ass as you shift from one foot to another while processing the transaction. 

“I’m taking fifteen,” the cook calls to you.

“Alright,” you shout back, tearing away his receipt and Ransom’s ready with a couple bills. 

“Just keep the change,” he winks at you. “Well, maybe give some of it to your grumpy cook.”

He likes the way you laugh at his comment. 

“Thanks,” you smile at him again. “See you...whenever, I guess.”

“Actually,” he begins, “about that help I can give you…”

You sigh. “I already told you, there’s nothing else I can offer you. You,” he watches as you pause and laugh humorlessly,” You paid for my virginity and you got it. Unless you have a kid who needs help with reading or writing, I don’t think--”

“I’m not paying you to tutor anyone.” Ransom bites the inside of his cheek as he smiles at himself. 

Maybe you can help Walt with some comprehension issues.

“I was thinking...you and I can come to some sort of arrangement.”

“‘Arrangement’?” You lean against the counter with the espresso machine, arms folded across your chest as you face him. 

“Yeah. You live with me, I cover whatever other living costs you need. And you,” he says, one corner of his mouth curls up wickedly as he leans his arms on the counter in an attempt to get closer to you, “You keep me entertained.”

The way your eyes widen slightly at the word “entertained” tells him you know exactly what he means. 

“I don’t think so,” you scoff, shaking your head and walking to retrieve your notebook.

Well, that wasn’t the answer he was expecting. 

“Excuse me?” he asks, appalled. His eyes follow your figure walking to the other side of the counter. 

“I don’t think so,” you repeat plainly.

What even is this? He’s never been rejected by a woman before. They fell at his feet all the time. There were some that played hard to get, but they always came crawling to him in the end. 

He has to admit, though, he does like this side of you. 

“Why not?” he presses.

You look around as if to check if anyone’s around to hear you. “I didn’t even orgasm, Ransom,” you laugh. “I’d rather rough it and have a job here instead of entering an arrangement where I’m not going to get something out of it.”

“You’re getting something out of it,” Ransom says, standing up to follow you across the counter. “I told you, I’ll cover your living costs.”

“I mean something pleasurable, you doofus.”

You turn to go into the kitchen. 

Normally, Ransom isn’t a man who begs. But he always gets what he wants. And hell, he wants you and all the memories you bring back to him. He wants to uncover you layer by layer until he reaches your very core and knows you inside and out.

God, what is this mushy stuff he’s thinking right now?

“Whoa, whoa, wait, wait, wait,” he says. “You didn’t…? And because of that you don’t wanna do this?”

“No.”

“Listen, I can make you cum,” he states firmly, index finger pressing into the countertop as if to make his point.

“You don’t need to get so worked up over this, Ransom,” he scowls when you laugh at him, “You’re a handsome guy. I’m sure there’s plenty of other girls who will gladly take you up on your offer.”

Somehow, you calling him handsome doesn’t stroke his ego. Rather, it feels insulting. This is you letting him down easy. 

Fuck no.

“I don’t want the other girls.”

“Is that to suggest you want me?” you inquire. 

“The arrangement isn’t going to benefit just me in bed,” he changes the subject. 

“Oh, it wouldn’t?” you say, unimpressed again. 

His smirk mirrors yours. 

If it’s a game you want to play, game on.

“How about a deal?” 

Your eyes narrow. “What kind of deal?”

He rests his forearms on the counter this time. “I make you cum, you enter this arrangement with me. If not, you never have to see me again.”

He can see the gears turning in your head.

“Three,” you say.

“Sorry, what?” he shakes his head, confused.

“I wanna cum three times,” you tell him. 

He chuckles to himself. He likes that you’re not afraid to say what you want. Besides, another night with you would mean he gets his $50,000 worth. 

“Easy.”

“Well, then, Ransom, you got yourself a deal.” You offer your hand for him to shake.

Taking your hand, he yanks you towards him so you’re right up against the counter. He leans forward, your faces less than an inch apart. That glint of nervousness flashes in your eyes again and again, he chuckles.

“No. I got you.”

Permatag: @caffiend-queen @fckdeusername @lou-la-lou @bangtan-serendipity

Chris tag: @onetwo3000 @patzammit

Ransom tag: @jeremyrennermakesmesmile

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[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 19/?

Word Count: 4.1k

Author’s Note:

Warnings: Mentions of the court system, fighting, swearing, no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

 Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Time Skip lol, February, next year. Finals.

She and Jason had been together for 6 months around February. When finals started coming up. The distance and tension between the two was fucking palpable. They hadn't fought or anything, but the stress between them had caused a slight riff. They just had space to focus on their studies.

They would see each other at work. She was his secretary. Everyone, all their friends, even their families, swore they just needed to bone. Which, considering they both heard about this from Bruce first, didn't mean they wanted to do it.

If you had asked Y/N, she would have said she wasn't dressing for Jason. But that was a lie. She was tempted to go with the advice everyone was giving them, especially before they went into their first finals exam. She walked into his office.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Well, I'm your secretary. Seeing if you need anything."

"I don't."

She turned to walk out.

"That doesn't mean you can walk out."

She smiled to herself, "Alright." She sat on the chair in front of his desk, "I won't walk out."

"Mhm."

She frowned, he didn't even look up from his computer. "What do you want me here for, Jay?"

"Close the blinds on all my windows, baby."

"It'll become dark."

"Good."

"Your eyes will fry from the light of your computer."

"Trust me, they won't."

"Uh-huh," she doubted as she closed the blinds.

Jason walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his head in the crook of her shoulder. She smiled and leaned her head on his.

"Exams fucking suck," Jason said.

"Couldn't have guessed from the riff in our relationship, really? You don't say?" she sarcastically retorted.

"It's not like we had it easy this entire time, either."

"Fuck you don't say? At least my attacker was admitted to Arkham and my friends got out."

"Can't catch a break," he paused because his buzzer went, "Can't catch a fucking break!" he exclaimed, exasperated. He went and answered it, "Jason Todd, who's using Y/N (Last Name)'s buzzer," he said, sounding annoyed.

"Hey, it's Dick. You two aren't fucking right, B will be pissed."

"Shut up. We aren't. What do you want."

"Someone's pissed. I need paperwork."

"Come and get it."

She crossed her arms and laughed when Dick entered the room. She slightly waved. He slightly waved back.

"You know, you two should bone. But not here," Dick joked. He walked over to one of the many, many filing cabinets to search for the paperwork he needed.

"You're really just riding the wave into Jason running you down, aren't you?" Y/N said.

"Well, we're always up for sparring."

"It probably won't be sparring, Dick. You know your brother. He's staring daggers into the back of your head."

"For Valentine's, I'll be giving Barbara the stress of taking care of me after Jason beats me to a pulp."

"At least you'll get one last Gala?" she joked.

"Will you be coming?"

"She will," Jason said.

"Amazing. Don't fuck on the dance floor," Dick joked.

"Fuck you."

"Love you too, Jase," he turned to walk out, "Love you too, Y/N."

"I'll be sure to tell you I love you at your funeral, Dick," she joked as he walked out. She paused before turning to Jason, "Gala?"

"Come, please," he said before going to hug her. "I miss you."

"You see me every day, Love."

"But we haven't been," he paused, "Well, a couple. In weeks. I miss you. The fun one who got me to run down the streets of Gotham on a skateboard."

"Dress code?"

"White tie."

"Dammnit. Guess I'm shopping."

"I'll give you my debit card?"

"I don't need it, baby. However," she joked, "I sure will take it."

He laughed and forked it over to her, "Don't spend my Ph.D. funds."

"I will gladly spend your Ph.D. funds."

"No," he laughed, "Please, I need those."

"I mean if you insist I spend it all," she said, laughing.

"The Gala's later tonight, you can take the rest of the day off."

"Kind of you to do."

"I know, I'm a gentleman."

"Truly," she kissed him. "I'll see you tonight."

"Can I come to get you?"

"Feel free too."

"Alright. I love you."

"I love you," she said before she left the office.

Getting into her car, she fumbled with the mirror a bit. She looked like a mom. The bags under her eyes and the formal get-up for an office job did her in.

They had said "I love you" for the first time around Christmas. She wished she caught the moment where they were fucking around and she just said it.

The Christmas lights surrounded them, hung in the trees. They had gone to see the New York City tree in Times Square. He was setting up a photo to take of the two of them and she just said it.

She could have sworn his fucking eyes lit up with green. Like they glowed.

Reminiscing on those small moments with Jason was something that would make her smile without fail. That man somehow unlocked a new set of feelings, stronger feelings. She was in touch with herself.

She went to her house first, to see how A/N was doing. To see her on the steps. She pulled into the driveway.

"Hey, you good?"

"Huh? Oh! Yeah, of course. Why?"

"I have to go get a dress for a Wayne Gala trademark, do you want to come to help me?"

"Of course I do!"

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

"I guess you could say we didn't narrow shit down about a dress," Y/N joked as she came out in the 16th dress she had tried on.

"Okay, well, that one is the best so far," A/N said, seeming like they finally made progress.

"Wow, this is news, we've narrowed it down."

"Honestly consider it a miracle. Thank God Jason let you go from work early. Are you getting a full day's pay?" A/N asked.

"Probably. I told Bruce I didn't want a full day's pay if I wasn't there, but Bruce said it was in my contract. I think he's just being generous," Y/N said with a sigh.

"Did you not read your contract?"

"I did! That's why I think he's being generous. I don't think I'd forget something like that."

"Watch you did forget those words. You should ask him to see your contract, if he's disobeying it then the board members are probably at his ass about it," A/N explained.

"God, please no. I would hate being a contention point for the board members."

"They probably want you fired. And they're probably mad that you won't be fired because you're with Jason."

"Well, I'm also just a great secretary"

"See, each time you say that I assume it's because you give him a little something-something under his desk every day."

"I'll have you know we've never had sex in that office."

"Did you have sex in another office?" A/N questioned.

"I'm pleading the 5th to any further questioning."

"Wait, oh my god."

"Nope! Going to go try on another dress and ignore you now!" Y/N exclaimed with a joking tone.

"This one's the best," A/N said.

"We're making progress! I'm thinking if I go with this one, I add gloves."

"God, are you trying to give Jason a hard-on?"A/N joked.

"I would like to plead the 5th to any further questioning on the matter," Y/N retorted.

"You're evil. If you're going to be evil, you might as well wear a suit."

"I wish. After all the shit I've been through, I want to stick it to the fucks who keep judging me. I'm already so jeopardized, though. Jason goes through a lot of shit dating me. I'll wear the dress."

"Old white people are old white people."

"Well, Bruce is nice at least. If he's judgemental, at least I don't hear about it on the news," Y/N said and twirled. "Yeah, this one. I like this one."

"I also like that one. There's something about silk. Always gets someone to look like 50 million dollars. Probably worth that too."

Y/N fumbled with the tag, "It's not pure silk, so it's less. Only 1000$."

"Only 1000$? God, that's like our rent."

"Rent is more."

"Well if we weren't in a house it would be the same. That's insane. That's like 3-4 months of groceries."

"I know it's a lot to us commonfolk, but Jason is rich. He wouldn't mind. We might, but he wouldn't."

"Yeah, but do you feel okay with spending that much of his money?"

"I have no idea. We'll see. I'll go try another dress on."

"This is cute," Y/N said.

"Well of course it is, it's probably worth your college scholarship, though."

"God, don't remind me of prices."

"It's hard to forget prices when we're given a lot of money to spend."

"We can't spend all of it!"

"What's he using it for?" A/N asked in a half-joke.

"He's getting a Ph.D. in Criminal Psychology when we graduate."

"Okay, okay. So he needs it."

"Yeah, he doesn't let Bruce pay his bills, remember. He's making his own money, minus the working-for-his-dad part."

"Yeah, the working for Bruce part seems a bit counterintuitive."

"If he's getting paid, it doesn't matter to him."

"What's it even like working with his family? Especially with the tension between you and Jason?"

"It sucks. Jason and I haven't fought, yet. We have to act like we aren't fighting. Which makes everyone think we are fighting. Which makes both of us mad. Because apparently," she paused, "The way to fix fighting is having sex, apparently."

"So have sex?"

"Shut up."

"Family on your nerves?" A/N asked.

"They're so involved, but I love them all. I just wish we had a moment alone, I know it's hard to do in a fucking office, but still."

"Go try on another dress. Show up looking like a million bucks."

"You are simply so right."

"I feel like this is the mature version of the black sparkly spaghetti straps one," A/N said.

"It's like you mashed a bunch of words together and suddenly I have to sell you my first-born son."

"Well, it's true!" She laughed, "It's a grown-up version, what someone, old white people, would expect of you."

"Old white people expect a lot."

"Jason's going to be one, one day," A/N joked.

"He's got not-white features," Y/N said, trying to picture his face. There was something about him. Something not-white. She had always picked up on it, but she could never tell what it was.

"Well, it's not like you can ask his mom her ethnicity."

"Jeez, that would be so rude of me to do. Let's just say it's... it's not my place."

"He's got secrets?" A/N questioned.

"Tall, handsome, mysterious. That's my Jason."

"A little bit of everything, all of the time," A/N said in a sing-song tune, specifically the "Welcome to the Internet" tune.

"Don't quote Bo Burnham to me, that album broke me," Y/N joked

"Who didn't it break? Oh, wait, probably Jason."

"He probably sobbed like a baby at it, I don't know where you got the "Emotionless" trope from, A/N."

"Can you blame me? He's a Wayne."

"Those are some of the most emotionally connected people I know? Like, genuinely, they're probably more in touch with themselves than you and I."

"Well, they don't exactly have the reputation for being able to discern their emotions, you know."

"You need to stop interacting with tabloids and their articles," Y/N said, seeming exasperated with the tabloids and the line of conversation. But that was nothing new. She hated the press, the articles, the paparazzi. She hated them all.

"Yeah, probably. You hate them for a reason."

"Do you not know about that time they made it so we couldn't get into our car?" Y/N asked.

"You did, you did."

"Fuckin' tabloids."

"Go try on another dress before you explode from rage."

"Valid," Y/N said, laughing.

"God, if only this wasn't a white tie event," Y/N said and sighed.

"I mean, you could just wear it."

"I will get my ass handed to me, however," she said, taking a picture, "Maybe Jason will just let me get it if I pay him back?"

"You don't have the money right now?" A/N asked.

"I need to get paid and I'll have enough," Y/N explained.

"Don't tell me this is worth more than our rent."

"I will just simply not tell you."

"Girl, you can't."

"Money is dumb and I hate it."

A/N laughed, "Which one do you want to go with?"

"Uh, probably the silk one."

"Temptress."

"I will literally buy and wear a corset to make Jason's life hard to get you off my back," Y/N laughed.

"I implore you to do so for the joke."

"Shut up," Y/N joked.

She still sent the picture of the last dress to Jason off-handedly. Asked him how he felt about it since she knew she loved it.

Why don't you just get it? He had sent back.

Can't afford it.

I can.

Please let me pay you back for this.

Just take me on a date.

I can do that.

You should.

I'll see you soon.

She laughed and grabbed both dresses.

"Jason's buying both?" A/N asked.

"Mhm! I have to take him on a fun date in return."

"You were probably going to do it both ways, honestly."

"You just know me so well."

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

They had gone and gotten the gloves before heading back to their house. Laughing and blasting rock songs the entire time. There was something about the bass running through the car and having the windows rolled down while screaming the songs. It was insane.

One of the songs they blasted was "I Think I'm OKAY" by Machine Gun Kelly and YUNGBLUD, switching out the vocals. It was fun to take breaks like that and, just enjoy each other's presence. Especially during finals season, where both of them were stressed because of their respective finals.

Everyone was stressed. Finals did that to everyone. Whether someone was in school or not, they felt the teenagers and college students lose their minds about it.

They got out of the car at their home and took the dresses inside. A/N went to go study in her room while Y/N went to go hang up her dresses. She entered her room and instantly remembered why she hated her laptop.

The laptop fan was deafening, it's why she barely had Jason over at her house anymore. She cleaned it constantly but, it kept going and going.

She brought it to the Wayne Manor over the Winter Break because she had work to do but wanted to see Jason, and everyone, everyone, commented on the thing.

They compared it to a screaming goat, an electronic mess, a horse-powered fan, anything they could put together with electronic, goat and fan, they called the laptop that.

Bruce even offered to buy her a new one, but she declined. She didn't think it was broken, so it didn't need to be replaced or fixed. If it was still in working condition, she was going to use it until it bluescreened on her.

Much to everyone's dismay.

She hated the fucking thing. So if she could drown it out with music, you bet your ass she did. She was grateful that her parents had sent it to her, but she assumed it was because they hated it too. She was right. No one liked that laptop.

She went to go shower. She figured if she fucked with her appearance and hair a bit, then the press would get off her back. She hadn't exactly tried to impress them thus far. But she wanted to just live her life.

She figured doing her hair, makeup, wearing the right clothes, she'd get harassed less. There was a lot of pressure dating a Wayne, she had realized.

She was constantly in the media, somehow she became an idol for little girls in the span of months. It was a lot for someone to take on. She embraced it normally. With open arms normally.

But A/N had told her that she started sleep-talking. Screaming about the eyes, the people watching her. She knew it was probably connected to the stress she was under dating Jason, but she really didn't want to deal with it.

If she ignored it, no one could tell her to deal with it. If she hid it, no one had to see it. She was looking into soundproofing her room so that A/N didn't have to see it.

Was it healthy to do that? Probably not. Probably far from the concept of healthy coping mechanisms.

She got out of the shower and started playing with her appearance. If she ended up with loud makeup and hair after this, she was going to just accept it.

She did end up with pretty loud eyeshadow. But her hair was fine, as acceptable as it could get for everyone judging her. Only nude lipstick that was just two, maybe three shades darker than her skin was what she needed. She kind of overdid the eyeshadow, so it had to be balanced.

Nerves by Icon for Hire was playing in her room. And in a way, that was how she felt. There was a lot of feeling in her, that she wasn't made for the life she was starting to lead. That being an idol was how she was going, but she couldn't do it.

She sighed and put on heels. White heels. It would be easier to put them on before the dress and gloves. The corset came on next. IT wasn't anything special, and she was capable of putting it on without help.

But then the dress.

"She loved that dress, but it wasn't the other one. The other one sparked a little bit of joy in her, while this one just conformed to everyone's opinions of her.

She wanted to wear the other one, so, so, fucking badly.

And finally the gloves. It was an outfit she thought was cute but would be torn to shreds in the media. She knew that.

The media liked to eat her alive.

Part of her wanted a break from it all. The other part wanted to do an interview with the press, to shit-talk all of them and make them weep. She wanted to be the one to destroy them.

Revenge was best served cold though, and the rage was far too hot in her head to even begin a proper essay on why they sucked.

She turned off the music in her room and was greeted with the lovely sounds of her computer fan. Comforting, but hatred.

Jason was going to be there any minute. Was she even ready for a Gala?

They had been through so much.

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

She walked to his car. He brought one of the fancy ones.

"You couldn't just like, own a not expensive car?" she joked.

"Why would I do that?"

She laughed and handed him his debit card, "I don't know, to keep the press off your ass?"

"I think they'd find us no matter what," he said as he backed out of her driveway, "You look beautiful by the way."

"Thank you, Love. You're as handsome as always."

"Simp."

"Alas, I admit it," she joked as she turned on the radio. "I swear the media is going to have a field day today."

"When do they not?"

"That's fair."

"I'm sorry this school year's been fucking our relationship," he sighed, "We deserve better and a better chance than what we've been dealt."

"Unfortunately that's how school works."

"Fuck school sometimes. Not everyone gets as hit as badly as us."

"It's the psychology teachers. If any teachers are strict, they are."

"We still deserve a break."

"Well, there's always when finals are over."

"I swear we're doing something nice when finals end."

"That's not that hard to do."

The tension in that car was palpable. Truly, you could cut that with a knife. A diamond's edge.

They got to the Gala before anyone, except the Waynes.

"Hey lot," Y/N said.

"Y/N! Glad you could make it!" Stephanie said and pulled her into a hug, "The guys suck, so I like you the most today."

She laughed, "What did they do?"

"They won't play rooftop tag with me."

"Why do you even play that game?" Y/N asked.

"Agility! I'm a track star, duh. I drag them with me."

"Ah, how could I be so foolish," she laughed as Stephanie pulled her towards the other girls. Y/N waved at the boys while laughing. "You do know I have a boyfriend who wants to see me, right?"

"It's Jason."

"Good observation."

"Shut up. I claim you."

"You can't claim me!" she jokingly exclaimed, loud enough for the boys to hear.

"Steph, that's my girlfriend!" Jason yelled back.

"Not anymore!" She yelled as she pulled Y/N into the building.

"Explanation?" Y/N asked, "Do you have an issue or something?"

"I don't. Babs does."

"Go on?"

"Ask her."

Y/N sighed and walked up to Barbara and Cassandra, "I heard you have an issue or something?"

"Yes! You! Okay so," Barbara said, "We're all worried about you and Jason."

"Oh, Jeez," Y/N sighed.

"No no, listen. We can feel the tension. Have you been fighting?"

"I told you before, we aren't."

"Then what is it? 'Cause I'm known for being a detective, hello, I'm Jim Gordon's daughter. And even I can't figure it out."

"Probably exams. Exams suck."

"Oh! It's because you're not used to the fame," Cassandra said.

"Okay, Cassie. Listen, it's-"

"It is isn't it!" Stephanie exclaimed.

"Ugh. Yes. Are you happy now?"

"C'mon, it isn't that bad is it?" Barbara asked.

"It is. They've been at my throat with daggers ever since I met Jason."

"Who's been at your throat with daggers?" Jason asked.

"Don't worry about it," Y/N said before anyone could open their mouths and say to the contrary.

"Well, then. Everyone should be here soon," Bruce said. "Wish we had entertainment this time."

"Can't Y/N sing?" Tim asked.

"Uh, yeah?" Y/N said.

"So sing," Tim said.

"Tim. C'mon. Don't do me like this, man."

"Think about it," Bruce said and put a hand on her shoulder, "It could be fun."

She laughed and everyone scattered except her and Jason.

"So, the daggers comment?" he asked.

"Media reference."

He sighed, "You can always step out of the spotlight, my love. Step down, walk away from their eyes but still be in mine."

"I'll think about it."

He took her hands, "You should think quicker," he joked.

She laughed and he pulled her into the ballroom she knew all-too-well at this point. The first time she was there ran through her mind like no one was watching, the beauty in her memory for capturing it like that.

She knew once the pictures were released she'd probably attempt to paint it.

Galas were stuffy and full of people. She didn't like the people aspect. When strangers would come up to her and start talking, she'd get freaked out. They knew her, but she didn't know them.

She wasn't involved in getting to know people high-up in the world. She was a simple secretary who was dating one of the CEOs.

She'd get twirled around by people's sons. Stuck in dances and conversations. She almost always found herself with one of the Waynes after she ran from someone she didn't know.

She did figure if she sang she'd get away from everyone. So, in a fit of trying to get away, she found her way to Selina.

"Hey!" she said.

"Y/N! Are you running again?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Do you want to sing or something, Bruce said he asked you to."

"He did, and I figured, "Fuck it" so here I am."

Jason came up just as she said that, "Duet?" he asked.

"Now that's an idea and a half."

"You kids, always doing crazy stuff," Selina joked, "Le me see what I can do for 'ya."

"We're really doing this?" Jason asked as Selina slinked off.

"I guess so!" she exclaimed and he pulled her in for a kiss.

"Really saying "Fuck you" to the press today, huh?"

"Well, they're always saying "Fuck you" to me."

[berrynarrybanana]

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. 

[thelastpilot]

Tell Me So I Understand- Adrino Fic Request

This is one of my finished commissions for the amazing charity even @mlbforblm with a 4k fic commissioned under the request for ‘Adrien/Nino hurt comfort’. If you would like to comission something from me as well before this event concludes please go here to check out my slots! Please donate to this great cause and get a fic from yours truly.~~

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The cool metal of the railing grounded him to the space, reminding him of where he was as he struggled to remain present. Nino took a deep breath, the frigid air making him shiver slightly. The balcony on which he hid was abandoned for the most part, one couple huddled together many yards away as they finished discussing something private. Neither of these people took any notice of him, the woman’s presumably lovely but insufficient dress for the cold forcing the pair to hurry back inside. They had likely been hoping for privacy, but it seemed only Nino’s turmoil was sufficient enough cause to stay in the bitter cold, ruminating.

He attempted to straighten his spine, standing tall as his hands pulled weakly at his tie, trying to let him breathe. He shuddered again as a cold breeze bit through his suit jacket, reminding him of its expensive weight paired with expensive shoes paired with expensive bullshit on this lifeless marble balcony-

He closed his eyes, forcing that spiraling thought down and trying to relax, but he couldn’t stop himself from pulling at the tie.

It had been unbalanced for almost the entire event, Nino noticing too late that it was askew and silently panicking over how long it had been that way. It was a small infraction but… depending on who you asked,

So was he.

His urgent hands stilled as they gave up on the mess they had made, falling forward to grip the ice cold railing again.

 This was his first big event.

He had expected it to be taxing, he’d been bracing himself for it all month but he knew how much it meant to Adrien to do this together. Adrien himself had sworn off big galas and publicity junkets like this almost entirely after he turned 18, but every once in a while he’d put in an appearance at some big soiree and do his thing, if only for Gabriel.

This was the first event Adrien had planned to attend since the two of them had made their relationship public to the press. He had been so excited to attend it as a couple.

Now Nino had essentially abandoned him to the wave of rich folks with their petty shallow conversations and was on the verge of some kind of panic alone behind the first unlocked door he had found.

It had hit him out of nowhere… he hadn’t expected to be comfortable, fancy events were never really his thing and he had always felt out of place in formal spaces. However the more nervous he became the more he felt he was messing up every interaction he had. Despite Adrien’s best efforts they were routinely separated, and every time they were apart Nino would flounder along the edges of the party, hoping no one would talk to him. He was a pretty sociable guy but there were just so many people he didn’t know how to talk to. And in the end he had nothing to say.

When someone who probably had a mutli-million dollar net worth pointed out his tie was messed up it had really seemed like she was just being nice, wanting to let him know to save him the embarrassment, but it had just been the final straw. Now he was totally unpresentable, having made the problem worse as he routinely did.

 Nino slumped against the railing, letting his face fall in his hands as he tried his best to get a grip… the cold, emotionless marble all around him left him in peace, even if the sudden swell of party noise did not.

The glass door clicking shut sent a spike of nerves up his back and he quickly reached for his tie, resolved to just rip if off when he heard a chilling, familiar voice.

“I hope you realize that’s one of kind. If you just throw it over the edge, I won’t be replacing it.”

 Nino paused, taking a long, calculated breath. He couldn’t help the wash of anger that crept up on him in this vulnerable moment, but he used the freezing air around him to push it down, turning to regard the man who had found him.

 Gabriel Agreste did not seem to notice the cold, standing as firmly and distantly as Nino had always known him to be. He was wearing unusually dark colors, his tux looking more appropriate for mourning then it did for a large charity event, but perhaps that was just apart of his newest theme. The suits he had tailored made for himself and Adrien were similar, though thankfully not identical. He approached slowly, drinking methodically from a tall glass.

Nino took a moment to decide how he wanted to handle this, before deciding after a time to just slouch against the railing, allowing his irritation to show on his face.

“What do you need,” Nino muttered, unwilling to engage in the careful politeness they usually maintained. He couldn’t honestly say he had had a deliberately unpleasant experience with Gabriel in some time now, but at this moment… he just didn’t have the energy.

Gabriel didn’t answer, his professional eye glancing over him and sending another wash of anger through him, analyzing him like every other fucking person he had met tonight. It was a shock however when Gabriel stepped forward, coming towards him without another comment just yet, like he didn’t feel the need for one.

Nino tensed in confusion and discomfort as Gabriel set his glass down and abruptly reached for the mess he had made of his tie, ignoring the way Nino backed up against the railing to make as much distance as he could. All Nino managed at first was an uncomfortable huff, but Gabriel hadn’t asked permission and he didn’t ask for any to continue. The cold, emotionless man just started fixing it, ignoring Nino’s rampant confusion.

They were dead silent as Gabriel fixed his tie, the older man just resolving the issue without comment or explanation. By the time he was done the tie was affixed perfectly in its place, but it was clear the young man wearing it was extremely uncomfortable still.

They waited, Gabriel taking a step away and looking out over the railing, the distant view of Paris at night their only commentary for a while.

It was still. And it was cold.

And it was quiet.

 Nino didn’t move for a while, eventually shifting uncomfortably until he was looking out over the vista as well, a good five or six feet between them now.

Nino’s mind was racing over what to do, before a subtle shift interrupted his panicked thinking. He looked over just as Gabriel turned slightly to regard him.

“My son is looking for you.”

“Hm,” Nino replied, looking away. He fidgeted slightly, and said nothing else.

“He’s making a bit of a scene, people are starting to notice.”

Nino couldn’t contain his irritation at that, shooting Gabriel a dark look as he said, “Am I expected to apologize for that?”

“I would have thought you might,” Gabriel said coldly, looking away from him and out over the city. He paused for a beat before his tone shifted. “You accuse me of managing his image,” his voice fell into a near accusation, “You seem far more concerned with it than I am.”

“What does that mean,” Nino hissed at him, finally straightening and facing him fully, but Gabriel seemed unperturbed. He just continued to admire the view.

“It means if you weren’t so obsessed with how your presence affected his reputation you wouldn’t have ran away.” Gabriel turned slowly, fixing him in place with one cold, ice blue eye. “Hypocritical of you, seeing as my son largely holds it against me for asserting that same thing once.”

Nino didn’t manage to retort right away, a hot, angry feeling restricting his chest as he stared him down. He knew his hands were shaking, but as he grappled with the pit of anxiety that clawed through years’ worth of protective anger, he couldn’t know for sure why.

“Don’t act like you know me, you don’t know shit about me.”

“I know about people. It’s my business,” Gabriel stated firmly, looking off into the distance again as if Nino was barely there. “I’ve built a lot around understanding fundamental weaknesses in character. And if you think a man whose built his company around insecurities can’t identify one at a glance then you’re a fool.”

“So you’re a cold blooded monster. I get the picture.”

Nino half expected an evil chuckle or something else cliché from him at this point, but he was surprised to see the man pause and reach for his glass. When he finally spoke… his tone was cold, and bitter.

“I would have thought my son had already told you as much.”

Silence lapsed suddenly, Gabriel’s passive sentiment hanging between them as Nino tried to unpack what that meant. However, there was too much there, the older man continuing to drink silently.

Nino didn’t have anything to say, unsure of what to make of the cards Gabriel was playing. Was he aiming for pity? Like Nino should somehow feel bad about the relationship he had with his son? That didn’t seem right…

One hand drifted to his fixed tie, wondering what any of this was for.

“Do you have a point here Gabe? Or are you just adding vague upsetting dialogue to my breakdown tonight?” Nino pushed the words out firmly, knowing he had to stand his ground with this guy. His casual nickname annoyed him about as much as he had hoped, Gabriel suddenly looking stiff, but not addressing it.

“My point,” he finally spoke, “is that you’re as transparent as you can be. You’re insecure, you’re out of place. You don’t belong here and it makes you seem weak, anyone in that room can tell that much just from looking at you.” Gabriel turned, his expression completely unreadable. “You don’t think you deserve to be here with him.”

Nino didn’t flinch, clenching his fists tighter as he swallowed down all the dark, twisted crap he was feeling. He refused to waver, even if he was sinking he wasn’t going to let that show.

“Well isn’t that just everything you ever wanted,” Nino spat at him harshly, “isn’t it nice to know you were right.”

To his surprise, Gabriel was quiet.

Nino stood there, steadfast. Even if he didn’t know what to do with all the shit in his head, this was a threat he knew how to handle. But despite what he expected, Gabriel didn’t fire back. He waited, and finished his drink, setting it down with a quiet clink of glass against marble.

Gabriel straightened, standing as tall and as unbeatable as he always had. And yet he didn’t look him in the eye.

“I realized too late that what I think doesn’t matter.”

When he finally met Nino’s gaze, what he saw was a young man who was completely unprepared for what he was hearing. He still saw all those insecurities, woven into him and impacting every single thing he said and did. He had spotted them the first time they had met, seen them below the surface every day since. Nino didn’t even attempt to deny it, but that wasn’t the point.

The point was that Gabriel understood what he thought didn’t matter anymore.

“You’re a hypocrite, and a fool,” Gabriel finally surmised plainly, “You openly accept the same things my son held against me.  What I think of you doesn’t matter, what my son thinks of you does. Is that not what he always insisted?”

Nino waited… his steadfast posture loosening in his uncertainty, because- this wasn’t going… how he thought it would.

“… I didn’t think you really understood that.”

“It appears I wasn’t the only one.”

 Nino was dumbstruck, completely disarmed in less than a sentence. The frigid air between them kept them separated, like winter in Paris somehow understood there would always be this immeasurable gap between these two people. Somehow though they occupied the same space, revealing them both for a moment. And he didn’t understand what he saw.

A man who had lost a lot because of his own actions. Naively, perhaps, he had always assumed Gabriel was oblivious to that.

Gabriel Agreste began to step away, pacing around him and abandoning his glass to chill out on the marble railing alone. He was shoulder to shoulder with him when Nino finally spoke, grabbing his shoulder and forcing him to stop.

“Wait- wait. Gabriel wh-,” he hesitated, conflicted about this but knowing he was exposed no matter what he did. He saw right through him.

Nino looked away from him and said, “What if you were right? What if… what if I’m not good enough?”

Gabriel paused, turning his face slightly to regard something, before looking back towards Nino. “I believe my son would have a lot to say on the subject.”

Nino frowned, confused for only a moment before Gabriel excused himself without ceremony or further comment. He stepped away and left him there, and it was only when Nino turned to follow his movement that he saw the illuminated doorway occupied by a still, silent silhouette.

Nino felt his heart falter before it sank deep into the pit of his stomach, the freezing cold of the night occurring to him for the first time in a while. It was inescapable now, chilling him to the bone as he watched Gabriel cross the space, passing by his son without feeling the need to address him. He just left them to survive one another, vanishing into the light and the sounds of the long-neglected venue.

It was quiet, the thrum of the party the only commentary. It faded and dulled as Adrien slowly closed the door, letting it shut without a sound and sealing them away in the private space.

Nino’s hands were shaking, and he knew perfectly why now; there was no anger left to compete for his confusion. He breath became uneven as Adrien stepped forward, coming towards him slowly but falling short with a sizable distance left between them.

The expression on his face was completely unreadable, set firmly in place as he stood there and said nothing. All Nino could hear now was his heart, and his breathing, the tempos erratic and out of sync.

“A-Adrien,” he finally managed, his hands anxiously fumbling with his cuffs. He let out a nervous laugh, unable to look away from his face. “L-look I don’t really know how much of that you heard, but I-,”

“I’ve been looking for you for half an hour,” Adrien spoke flatly, something just below the surface of his tone. “I called you a million times.”

Nino’s hand twitched towards his pocket, another uneasy laugh slipping out. “It must have died…,” he lied.

There was silence, for a while.

“I- I was-… Nino,” Adrien let his name out in a rush, like a gasp almost, and his unreadable expression cracked just a bit into endless guilt, “I came out here so ready to apologize and take you out of here, I was ready to say sorry for dragging you here and making such a big deal out of this even though I knew it made you uncomfortable. I knew you were having a horrible time I knew you hated it but I didn’t- I-,” he stopped again. Adrien looked away, staring down at the cold marble like he needed the distance, and to Nino’s horror he saw his shoulders shake as his hands balled into fists. “I thought you hated fancy parties, I thought you hated formal events. I thought you hated the people and the posturing and everything else I didn’t think-,” he stilled, and looked up. And the look on his face broke his heart.

“Nino is any of what you just said true? Please…,” and his voice cracked, “Please tell me you don’t really believe anything you just said…”

 The space between them felt like miles to him, Nino pouring over the details of Adrien’s face before he couldn’t stand it and he just looked away. His hands curled together without his permission and he didn’t know what to say… he didn’t even know if it was true.

Gabriel had put it in his head but they both knew he was right, everything Nino thought throughout the whole wretched night came back to this one idea. That everyone in the room knew who Adrien was, everyone wanted the gossip on his newest announcement. Everyone wanted to see who was so important that Adrien Agreste had stepped away from the spotlight.

Everyone wanted to see if he was worth it.

And he didn’t know the answer…

 His hands shook only once more, the cold only touching him for another, long, weighted moment. When suddenly he felt something warm and urgent and nearly angry push against his chest, forcing him three steps back.

He was backed up against the railing in a second as Adrien reached for his face, tilting his face and kissing him suddenly, so urgent and quick that it was only Adrien’s strength that kept them both from slipping. Nino let out a gasp of surprise but Adrien took it from him, him mind going blank as he kissed him again, only some corner of his mind registering the distant smash of glass as Gabriel’s abandoned drink tumbled away from them both a long ways down. He fell with it, in a way, only Adrien enough to keep him from breaking into pieces.

He fumbled for something to hold, loosely gripping at Adrien’s jacket as the contact went on, his fingers limp after a while, his thoughts unfocused.

He had no idea how long it went on for, but by the time they were done they were both panting unevenly. Adrien did not leave his space, planting his hands on either side of him on the railing to steady himself. Nino held on to him for much the same reason, his chin tucked into Adrien’s shoulder as they caught their breath.

“I-,” Adrien spoke unevenly, his voice heavy, “I have something… to say.”

“Are you going to say it like that? You can, if you want to,” Nino answered, his chuckle breathy as he struggled to ground himself.

“This is important,” was his only response to his joke, the man moving so that he could force him to look up, the two of them standing face to face.

Nino looked at him again, so close up now that he could see so much behind what he had interpreted as unreadable. It was angry, and guilty, and heartbroken; it was loving, and soft, and urgent, and desperate.

“I have something to say, and I want you to understand it. I- I need you to get this. And if you don’t, I’ll say it again.” His eyes drifted all over his face, holding himself in that intimate space.

“You’re the most important thing that has ever happened to me. The most… critical, and precious thing I have ever had. What you say, and what you think means everything to me, and that’s all. That’s it, I can survive everything else, I can put everything else aside Nino.” He looked him in the eyes, searching his face like he was desperate to be clear. “You are the only unquestionable thing to me, having you with me and knowing that I can be apart of your life is all that counts. I don’t care what they think!” he nearly shouted it, gesturing behind them to things Nino couldn’t even see anymore, only focused on his face. “I don’t care what he thinks, I care what you think, and what you believe. And if you can honestly try and tell me that you- you shouldn’t… that you can’t be- be seen with me I-…” he faltered, his head tilting down and shaking slightly like he didn’t understand. Nino tried to speak but Adrien continued, taking a deep breath and trying to steel himself. “I don’t get it, I don’t understand it. I can’t see it at all and that makes it so hard to come at because I just don’t see where you’re coming from. Please Nino,” he straightened up, looking at him again, “please explain it to me so I can understand. Tell me how it makes sense because I don’t understand. What did you mean when you said ‘What if I’m not good enough,’ what did that mean? Was that him? Was that him trying to get in your head?”

“No, no no no, I-,” Nino faltered, looking down so he could breath. Adrien’s hands were cold from the marble when he reached up to cup his face. When he tried to tilt his face up Nino resisted, moving a hand to hold on to his and leaning into it. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry-,”

“Don’t apologize. Just tell me so I can understand.”

“I don’t know!” Nino finally forced out, shutting his eyes and gripping his hand tighter. For a moment Adrien thought he was going to tear it away, but he just clung to him. “I don’t know, I’m just being stupid, I don’t know how I meant it. But every headlines saying it, every fucking tabloid post all the gossip Adrien its not like you couldn’t hear it,” he moved his other hand to pull a wad of Adrien’s jacket into a fist, hanging on. “I kept pretending like it wasn’t getting to me what was I supposed to say?” he continued wretchedly, finally looking up at his boyfriend and aware of the pain on his face. “How was I supposed to tell you that I didn’t get it either. That every crapshoot paparazzi asking who was so important and I just- I didn’t know. I just felt lucky that you loved me but I didn’t know the answer to all that shit, whose so important, I don’t know either. I don’t get it, I don’t get any of this! I don’t know where to stand or who to talk to or how to look,” he whispered, gesturing to his tie again though it hardly mattered anymore. As the words fell out of him he lost steam and urgency, leaning down until his forehead was against Adrien’s shoulder. His boyfriend responded immediately, holding him tightly.

“I’m sorry…,” Nino finally apologized anyways, keeping his eyes shut and trying to focus on only them. “I should have just told you I was way too far out of my comfort zone… I knew how much this meant to you and I blew it… I wanted people to see us together. But then everyone did and they were asking who I was, and I’m not any-,”

“Don’t,” Adrien cut him off, saying it so suddenly and firmly that Nino immediately fell quiet, pulling back to look up at him. “Don’t say that.”

When he pulled back to stand face to face with him again he saw all of the same things he had seen in him before, but among those feelings now he saw disbelief.

“Don’t talk to me like you’re no one, I can’t stand it Nino… I can’t. You just have no idea…,”

Nino hesitated, wanting to look away again, but not resisting when Adrien reached up to stop him. “No idea about what…,”

“No idea about you,” he answered, and the way he said it, the way he looked at him…

 It was like he was everything.

 When Adrien kissed him again Nino was instantly breathless, clinging to him as Adrien pushed him back. It was like he was trying to speak, taking Nino’s advice and trying to tell him everything he needed to say in a kiss.

His thumb slid over his cheek and Adrien kissed him again, and again, trying as many times as he could to get it all across. How do you tell someone that they’re everything to you? How do you tell someone who doubts and wavers that there are some things that are just fact… indisputable, undeniable facts?

I love you.

I know.

I love you.

I know…

  I love you… I love you.

I know... I know... I love you too.

[toomanyfandoms02]

The Photographer // Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader

So I made a one-shot based off of the picture down here!

Word count ~ 3.1k

Summary - y/n is a celebrity photographer, and Matthew's birthday is coming up. This calls for a birthday shoot.

Ever since I was in sixth grade, I dreamed of being a photographer. But back then, I was just taking candid pictures of my cat (Peanut Butter), and random flowers that my mom had graciously planted for me. I really never planned on taking nice, professional pictures of people.

But here I was.

I went to 'California College of Arts' in San Francisco for 4 years. After that, I had a bit of trouble getting myself out there. I had a decent following on my instagram. People liked the pictures of my dog, and the pictures of nature that I took on my many travels. But likes and follows don't get you money, at least not enough. So I switched my focus onto more interesting things.

Advertising yourself as a photographer wasn't an easy task. You had to be ruthless, and be willing to get rejected and not back down. So I did what any semi-sane person would do.

I messaged over 50 celebrities asking of they wanted to do a shoot with me. I sent them my prices, and what kinds of shoots I was willing to do. I didn't have much hope for it, but it was worth a try.

And that's where it began.

Out of all of the messages, Andrew Lincoln, AKA Rick from The Walking Dead messaged me back.

*Hello Miss y/l/n! I've actually seen quite a few of your nature shots and I have always wondered how your photos would turn out with people. I would love to be your Guinea Pig.*

He sent me days he was available and I did his shoot. After posting his pictures, my popularity shot from there.

That was a few years ago, I was now taking photos for multiple celebrities. I was ultimately known for my black and white shoots. I had, in fact, just gotten done with a shoot of A.J. Cook. She had requested *me* to take her pictures for an up and coming article that was being written about her. I, of course, gratefully said yes, being a huge fan of hers, along with the whole Criminal Minds cast.

I emailed her all of the pictures I had taken, edited and all, while simultaneously posting them on my instagram.

It was mere hours later before a notification popped up on my phone of an email that I could not believe. Theres no way that he was emailing me, right?

*You have an Email from Matthew Gray Gubler*

*Hi there! I saw your shoot on AJ's instagram and my birthday is coming up. My manager wants me to do a birthday shoot, and we both like your black and white style. I know it's not usually the kind of thing you, birthdays, do but I figured it was worth a shot, and I think you have some real talent. Let me know when you are free next. I am on a break so my schedule is relatively flexible.*

I could safely say that it was a good thing that I lived alone because I don't think I have ever screamed louder into a pillow. Matthew has been one of my favorite celebrities for the longest time. If we were going to be completely honest, once I started watching Criminal Minds, I immediately had a crush on him. This wasn't exactly the profession to be in if you were going to have a celebrity crush. I was often invited to red carpets and movie premiers, so I met quite a few stars. I never thought I would have to worry about slipping up on my professionalism.

Because I never thought I would even meet him.

My obvious answer to his request was yes. I would never *ever* miss an opportunity to have a photoshoot with someone so inspiring and meaningful to me. So I started writing an email back.

*Hi Matthew!*

Should I address him like that? Is that unprofessional?

*Hi Mr. Gubler*

Abso-fucking-lutely not.

*Hi Matthew!* We are gonna stick with that. *I don't know if this is too short of a notice, but I actually have a free spot tomorrow. (Of course if that doesn't work for you, I can figure something out for later, and try to fit it in before your birthday). I have a few ideas for props that I can send you? Let me know how I can help.*

I sent it and ran my hands through my hair, tossing my phone back onto my comforter. I had taken pictures of so many awesome celebrities:

• Selena Gomez

• Robert Downey Jr.

• Dylan O'Brien

• Grant Gustin

• Holland Roden

• Danai Gurira

But this was by far the coolest one, in my mind at least.

While waiting a little to anxiously for a reply, I decided I was going to make myself some lunch, Ramen. I set my phone on the counter as I boiled my noodles, peering over at the blank screen every few seconds (but really they felt like **minutes**).

Just as I was adding the flavour packet to the bowl my phone buzzed. I jumped slightly, spilling part of the packet out of the bowl.

"Damnit." I quickly wiped the salt into the trash can and snatched my phone, seeing another email.

*Tomorrow is actually perfect, and I would love to hear your recommendations on props, clothes, anything really. I'm going to leave my number on this email so we can have easier contact of that's okay with you.*

Wow, alright. I will now have Matthew Gray Gublers number in my phone. I made a contact for him.

**It's y/n, soooo for props. I figured I could bake you a cake! I took a few baking electives in college so I could make a really nice one and we can do something with it. I recommend you bring clothes you like to wear that are black and white. (Other colors work too, but it just looks and flows better if it's black and white). I will set the rest of the stuff up. I will be ready for you by 1 pm if that's okay.**

*You would bake me a cake?! That would be super cool thank you! I would love that. I will bring a few black and white outfits. Would it be weird if I brought a black and white Kimono?*

A chance to see Matthew in a kimono? Please yes.

**Oh my gosh please do. I would love to take pictures of you in an infamous kimono of yours.**

*Awesome! I will see you tomorrow at 1. Heres my managers info for you to sell the billing to.*

He attatched his managers email. I just sat at my kitchens island, smiling like a true dork at my phone.

**And here is my address, I run the studio at my house. What is your favorite cake and icing by the way? :)**

Was a smiley face unprofessional?

I need to chill out.

*Vanilla cake and chocolate frosting possibly? I will eat anything though probably. :)*

Now I was really smiling at my phone like a psycho idiot.

**Alrighty, see you tomorrow**

Since I didn't want to wake up too early tomorrow, I decided I was going to start the cake tonight. I had quite a few recipes held in my cabinets. I located my vanilla cake recipe and put my pre-made chocolate frosting on the counter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After about an hour of preparing, making a cake from scratch, and putting it in the oven. The cake was finally done and cooled. I added black cocoa to the frosting to make it completely black and got out my white gel.

*You made it 3 decades :)*

Was scrawled in calligraphy on the top of the cylindrical cake. I added white drips down the sides and white multi shaped sprinkles to the bottom part.

I set it in my fridge and got ready for bed. I know it's going to be hard to sleep just thinking about tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My alarm woke me up at 10 am, never before this had I woke up with a smile on my face before 12.

I took a quick shower and dressed in a white and blue floral romper with my hair in a high ponytail. Now it was time to set up backgrounds for the shoot.

I had two stations downstairs where I took all my photos. I set the first one up very normal with a white background and a rustic black stool. The second one was set up with another white background but littered with black streamers and big *30* black and white speckled balloons strung at the top.

Once I was done with all that. It was nearing 1. I slipped the cake out of the fridge and slid it onto my island. I glanced up at the clock above my stove.

*12:49*

Since I just had a little bit of time, I went a put some simple makeup on. I usually don't wear makeup when taking pictures of people, but for obvious reasons, I was making an exception.

Just as I was leaving my bathroom I heard a knock at my door. I walked swiftly to my door and opened it shakily.

"Hi!" He held up the clothes that were hung lazily over his arm. He smiled that million dollar smile and I could have sworn he looked me up and down.

Wishful thinking I guess.

"Welcome!" I stepped out of the doorway, silently inviting him in. "If you wanna set your stuff down, those stairs to the right lead you down the the studio."

"Thanks." He scurried down the stairs as I grabbed the cake and followed him down. I set it on a table that I had down there, he peered over at it and immediately burst into fits of laughter.

"I knew you had a sense of humor, so why put something normal and boring on the cake." I laughed with him as he tried to catch his breath.

"This is so perfect." He laughed a little more. "Thank you, so much." I shrugged with a smile. I posed him in front of the streamers with the cake.

He made some silly faces and smiled like there was no tomorrow. Next I brought him to the more plain station, sitting him on the stool. I looked through the lenses of the camera and glared a bit.

"Hey can you put your left leg up on the second peg of the stool?" I asked, pointing to his leg.

"This one?" He put it on the third. I shook my head. "This one?" He moved it down the the fourth. He was smiling a sly smile, seemingly challenging me.

"Let me do it for you." I had to pose people often, but posing him was going to be a little harder for me, considering I found him painfully attractive.

I moved his leg up to the second one and patted it.

"Now leave it there, so I don't have to help you again." I giggled, walking back to my camera. Taking a picture of him leaning forward on the stool and smiling. I then made him laugh and got a good genuine one of him leaning back and laughing. After all that, I proposed that we eat some cake and took a break.

I cut him a slice and handed it to him with a smile.

"So, tell me about yourself." He said, eating a bite of his cake.

"Well, I have always enjoyed photography. I love all types of art, so I also draw and paint often. And I have a black cat upstairs. His name is-" and I stopped, blood rushing to my cheeks. He is most certainly going to ask me the name, and I do not want to tell him.

He stared at me expectantly. "What is his name?" He motioned me to go on.

"Uh," I laughed a little awkwardly, setting my hands in my lap and staring at them. "His name is Spencer. As in Spencer Reid..." I glanced up at him and saw a huge grin break out on his face.

"So you like Criminal Minds? I never would have guessed. You just don't seem the type."

"Well all my memorabilia is in my room, just so people don't think I'm weird for having quite a few framed and signed posters." I smiled up at him, pushing around the remaining cake crumbs on my plate.

"One, That's not weird, that's awesome. Two, can I please meet Spencer and take pictures with him in my kimono."

I don't think I have ever heard a better sentence in my entire life.

"Yes, absolutely! I'll go get him." I clunked up the stairs on my search to find Spencer. I went to his usual spot first, my bed. Luckily he was sitting there, licking his outstretched foot. "Hi baby! You are about to take pictures with the guy you are named after. He almost as cute as you!" I grabbed him from the bed an headed back downstairs. I walked in with the accidental impeccable timing to see Matthew in his barely tied kimono, showing off his chest. My eyes widened a bit and he tied it off fully.

"Is this the famous Spencer?! He is so cute!" He reached his arms out at Spencer. My little fluff ball curled up into him instantly, cuddling into his silky kimono.

We took many many pictures of Spencer and Matthew together. I think maybe my cat likes him more than he likes me now.

"Okay, last idea. How about we just take some more up close pictures of me feeding you some cake?" It came put as a question because I didn't know how comfortable he would be with it.

"Perfect!" I cut another slice of the cake and brought it over to him. We were both sitting on the floor.

"This might be a little awkward, okay?" I giggled as I leaned back to get his whole face in the shot. This proved to be very difficult as I was using my left hand to take the picture. I fed him the cake with the right as he looked at the camera with a more seductive look. I could have melted into the floor.

I decided to switch hands so I could take the photos better, but now my very uncoordinated hand was the one picking up the cake. As I went down to get another section of the cake for another angle of feeding this sculpture of a man, I instead dipped my thumb right into the deep black frosting.

"Shit, I'm so sorry hold on." As I went to stand up and grab a napkin to wipe my thumb off, Matthew grabbed my wrist lightly.

"Hold on, uh, I have an idea, before you do anything." I sat down with a confused look. "I saw someone do this in another shoot. But we totally don't have to do it. I just thought it would be a different idea." His words were more rushed than usual.

"I'm sure I've done weirder things for other shoots, don't worry. It's *your* shoot." I reassured him, though my head was swimming wondering what he was going to do.

"Ok. So. What I'm going to do is put your thumb in my mouth, and I'm basically gonna, uh, suck on it while kinda smiling?" He could barely get through the whole thing without laughing.

"Alright, weird request but I like it!" I giggled for what seemed like the 30th time today. "And to make you feel better, yes, I have done weirder."

"Thank God."

"So I am guessing you want me to do something like this with the rest of my hand, ya know, the part that's not in your mouth." I stated as I placed my hand on his cheek. He let a slow breath out, staring into my eyes.

"Yeah, exactly."

"Okay." I said with a shrug, grabbing my camera from the ground. He opened his mouth with an all too familiar wide grin as I placed my thumb in. His mouth closed around it and he smiled, just a little. I brought my camera to my face, capturing the moment that I would have forever in my mind and in a small frame on my bedroom wall, for sure.

I slipped my thumb from his mouth and watched as his face turned extremely red. To save him embarrassment, I immediately stood up and grabbed a napkin to wipe the rest of the frosting off.

"Can I see it?" He motioned to the camera. I nodded, sitting down right beside him, showing him the picture. It showed off a closer look at the rose tattoos I had near my wrists and the shiny watch that was gifted to me by my mom. "It turned out good! I really hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."

"Oh no! Of course not. Total opposite." As soon as I said that I regretted it.

"So that made you extremely comfortable?" A sly smile was making it's way onto his face.

"That's, that's not- You know what? Sure, yes." I chuckled. "You don't really make me uncomfortable at all to be honest. So no, you didn't make me uncomfortable."

"Well I'm glad." He smiled and we sat in silence for a moment.

"Well I guess that's it yeah?" He nodded. "Well this was fun. Thanks for being an excellent subject to take pictures of."

He gathered his stuff as we went back upstairs. Once at the door, Spencer came up to him, rubbing on his leg. He bent over to pet him.

"So, I'm not sure if you are single or not." I could feel the blood draining from my face. Was this really happening right now? "But I wanted to know if you wanted to go on a date?"

Yes, this was happening right now.

"Really?" I could tell I sounded extremely excited, but at this point, I didn't even care.

"Yeah, you are super laid back, funny, talented, and you aren't scared away by how weird I am." He laughed, "So yes?"

"I would absolutely love to."

"Great. I'll text you." He winked and waved as he closed the door, leaving.

My back went against the door. I couldn't keep in the squeal so I just embraced it and squealed my heart out, doing a little dance.

Which was quickly ended when I heard a knock at the door.

"I'm sorry, I want to get to know you better immediately." He let out a nervous chuckle. "Are you free for the rest of the day?" I was sure that my face was red as a tomato.

"Yes I am." He grabbed my hand, dragging me outside.

"Then let's go."

[itgetsdarksometimes35]

Small Price to Pay

Warnings: Non con, dub con, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, little bit of childbirth, slight depression, 18+

Word count: 2,973

Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Summary: Reader is the youngest girl in her family and her father is looking to sell his daughter into marriage next. She’s able to fend off majority of the men who come to court her, but then a mysterious man with eyes the color of the ocean comes into the picture. Money is a small price to pay for a happy life after all. 

~ indicates a time change

Prompts: The song “Light” by Sleeping at last

A/N: This is for @marvelfulxbabes​ challenge that I’m so thrilled to be apart of. I’m sorry for the hiatus, school is always way busier during the 2nd semester, but I have a bunch of stuff coming out. As for my series they may take a while, so I’m sorry if you were invested in those. They are coming though, I miss them deeply. Anyway, hope you enjoy :)

Ps: Thinking about part 2 to this, whatcha think? ;)

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Your father was a douchebag. Plain and simple. He had bought your mother from your grandfather and he had sold your older sisters to men twice their age. Now that you were 18, it was your turn. You were extremely close to your sister, Anne. She was the third oldest and the last to leave you alone with your two younger half brothers. She was the most like you and always fought back the men who came to bid on her like property. Sadly, a man came by and easily found it charming. She always said to never give in, figure out what they want and do the opposite. You’d be successful only until dad finds a man who doesn’t give a damn at all. They were out there, but your father had failed nearly a thousand times already. 

Since your birthday, at least three men have come to your house to try to court you. In fact, that’s what your birthday present was, a rich man named Tony Stark there to court you. He worked as a CEO on the upper east side for a well known tech company. He was loaded, and your father wanted in. You figured out Tony like proper and well spoken ladies, someone to show off at his expensive Galas filled with people who spoke seven different languages. So, you acted a slob. Spilled your fancy tea all over yourself and his prestine suit, mispoke several words, use vulgar language, and acted painfully stupid. Tony marched right out and your father made you kneel in rice until your knees bled. It was worth the pain. 

It’s been six months and your father was unsuccessful. You have never seen your sisters since their marriage and you missed them, especially Anne. You didn’t want to end up a housewife somewhere with no say in anything. When your mom died your father quickly remarried, it was as if your mother meant nothing to him. You’d be damned if that happened to you. If you were going to get married, it’d be for love. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wake up, you have a visitor.” Your father shook you awake. You rubbed your eyes and looked to your father, he was already smoking a cigar even though it was 8am. You groaned and got out of bed, walking to your closet, pulling out a t-shirt and jeans. 

“Oh no, you can go out like that.” Your father pointed to your sleep shorts that showed off your legs and cupped your ass perfectly; your top was a thin tank top that showed your hardening nipples. You rolled your eyes and started walking to your door, shouldering your way past your father. 

You walked into the living room and saw a man standing there with his back to you facing the window. His arms were folded and you saw one sparkling in the light, he had a metal arm. You gasped at it and stopped in your tracks. The man turned to you and the corners of his mouth threatened to rise. He was hot. His hair was pinned out of his face in a man bun, he wore navy blue dress pants and a white button up dress shirt that had he rolled to his elbows. His eyes were as bright as the diamonds the strange men bring to you in order to try to buy your love. 

“Mr. Barnes, my daughter. Daughter, Mr. Barnes.” The way your father said daughter bit at your nerves. He knew introducing you with a title rather than your name made you feel inferior, as if that’s the only thing there was to know about you. You glared at your father before turning back to Mr Barnes. He extended his flesh hand to you. 

“Pleased to meet you. I doubt your name is daughter, though.”

He smiled at you, but it didn’t meet his eyes. You took his hand and faked a smile. “Mmmhm, it’s not. Y/n will do just fine.” Mr. Barnes shook your hand before gesturing to the couch. 

“Take a seat, let’s get to know each other.” At that your father excused himself, but not before casting you a warning look. You smirked back at him before taking your seat next to Mr. Barnes. “So, how old are you?”

“97, just a few years younger than you.” You bit at him. You always lead with sarcasm, if they laughed they were serious and you’d have to become boring. If they didn’t that means you had to continue being “unladylike.” 

Mr. Barnes eyebrows shot up before he laughed a bit. It wasn’t real, he was uncomfortable. He was easy to read, you had this in the bag. 

“Alright, I see why you’re so uptight. I wouldn’t like it if men were to come in and try to buy me either. Believe it or not, I used to hate this practice.”

“Yet you’re willingly here and seem to be enjoying it.” You cocked your head to the side, your smart mouth making him shift a bit. 

“My younger sisters have been victims of this trade,” Mr.Barnes ignores you, “I always said I wouldn’t do it. As time has gone on, no woman of value isn’t being bargained off. You should be lucky your father cares for you so much, the ones who aren’t cared for are just thrown out into the world.” 

“Grateful? My father sold my sisters like livestock for a couple millions and I haven’t seen any of them in years! This “bargaining” system is destroying families and is never created equal. What do the men and young boys suffer? What do they lose? They can still go see their family. They still have freedom.” Your voice raised, the audacity that these men had always blew your mind. They didn’t understand and never would, so why did they try to sit there and try to make you? They saw how unhappy their sisters and mothers were, yet they continued on with this bullshit for generations. If you ever were married off and had a son, you’d beg him to stop the cycle. You’d try even harder to protect your daughter. 

Mr. Barnes sighed and sat up a bit more. “I’m sorry doll, I didn’t mean to upset you. I meant it as a compliment, honest.” You crossed your arms and glared at him. He looked apologetic but you didn’t care. You weren’t here to be nice, you were there to survive as long as you possibly could. 

“Well, Mr. Barnes, your intentions don’t seem to have worked out, did they?” You raised your chin and said his name with a poison that even stunned you. There’s no way he’s gonna want you.

“My real name is James, sorry for the formicality,” Mr.Barnes was suddenly smiling and standing up. He crossed to the door that separated the living room and the main area in your house. Where your father was sitting on the other side. What just happened?

You lookedon with curious eyes as James opened the door and called for your father. He was still smiling and your father rushed over, angry eyes finding yours before turning soft at James when he saw his beaming face. “We have a deal, sir” He shook your father’s hand while your jaw dropped. Fuck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two million dollars. That’s how much you’re worth apparently. You don’t know where you went wrong, but being a brat was only going to work so many times. James apparently didn’t mind at all that you had a mouth, in fact he was telling your father how much he loved it. He said while looking for a wife he pretended to be proper so that when the girls acted the way they thought he wanted them to, boring in his opinion, he knew they weren’t for him. You, on the other hand, spoke your mind and were feisty. It ignited a flame James believed was dead. 

You looked on with glossed over eyes as you say your belongings being packed away and set in a moving truck. It was mostly irreplaceable objects such as photos and your favorite clothing. James promised to buy you new things and to add a new wardrobe. He must’ve been loaded because after dropping that much he still promised so much more. Lucky girl you were.

You signed a paper while a ring decorated your finger and numbly kissed James on the lips to seal your marriage. He wore a similar band on his left hand finger. “Congratulations, may your marriage be filled with joy, blah blah blah.” Your father blabbered while he sucked on another cigar and counted the money James had given him. 

James took you to his house. It was a humble suburban home on the outskirts of New York, much different than your penthouse in the city. There was a white picket fence and freshly trimmed grass decorating the outside. “We’re home, doll.” James cut the engine of his BMW, putting his hand on your thigh. You changed into a short blue summer dress that complimented your skin tone and brown wedges. You looked like your mom and every other dutiful wife you’d known. 

You stepped out of the car and looked up at the house that you’d be spending the rest of your life. The sky was clear and beautiful but you felt the depressive clouds that rained over cul de sac, drenching their housewives. The weight these women held, loving the men who cheated, hated, and abused them. James came up behind you and pulled your waist so that you leaned on him. He kissed your cheek and looked into your eyes. “I can’t wait for us to fill the rooms in the house. I can see it now, two kids a boy and a girl. Maybe more if it feels right.” Your stomach churned at the thought. You didn’t want kids with him. But it didn’t matter, when you signed your name you signed away your happiness. The light had gone out in your soul. 

“Yes dear.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two years into your marriage felt like a decade. Every day was the same: wake up, make breakfast, see James off to work, clean, shower and look pretty for James, cook dinner, welcome James home, eat dinner and ask James about his day, have sex, and go to sleep. The sex at first was painful and he was never gentle. He was never lovey dovey, never brought flowers, just wanted a one-sided relationship. 

You always went to visit his family and friends on holidays or you hosted his family and friends at your house. You hadn’t seen your family and, even though you hated your dad and never really talked with your stepmom and brothers, you missed them for the similarity. You were missing your brothers growing up, one was three when you left the other was six. You asked once to see your sisters and James merely shrugged it off. “You would only bother them” he reasoned, “They’re busy running a household like you. They don’t have time for useless small talk.”

Today it wasn’t your alarm that woke you up. It was the vomit that was rising in your stomach, pushing its way out of your mouth. You ran to your bathroom and puked in the toilet. You continued gagging and dry heaving when everything was out of your tummy. James walked in rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and yawning. “What’s wrong, honey?”

“N-nothing, dear. I’m sorry for waking you.”

James shook his head and walked closer to you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I think I just ate something.”

James frowned. “We eat the same thing, have for years. You always skip lunch because it ruins your appetite for dinner. I’m not feeling sick.” His lips showed signs of cracking a smile as he bit his finger, pretending to ponder what could be going on.

You knew what he meant. It had been two years of sensless fucking. Like you had held out on marriage your body had held out on pregnancy, but just like your marriage to james, your body had come to a point that it could no longer fight. 

James opened up the medicine cabinet behind the mirror and pulled out a pink box. He reached in and pulled out to reveal two white sticks. He handed them to you. “Take them.”

You reached out and took the sticks, starting to pull your pants down so you could pee. Thirty minutes later, James’ phone timer rang and he looked at the sticks. His face scrunched as pure joy took over his features. He held the sticks out to you. “We’re pregnant!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had just gotten done with your baby shower and you were now sitting down for a break before you would get up and start cleaning. You rubbed your sore back and nine month old belly. Baby boy was bigger than normal, James said it was because of his special genes. James was saying bye to his best friend, Steve, before he shut the door and turned to you. Of course, nobody you were close with was at the party, just James’ family and close friends. He did say he had phones your father to tell him the news, but he failed to send even a card. You had grown to not expect much or feel sad for the neglect you got emotionally from your husband or your father. 

James made his way to you, he was still smiling. “Not much longer, doll. We’ll be meeting this big guy any day now.” He rubbed your belly before grabbing your hand, pulling you up to stand despite your pain. “Dance with me.” You both danced to music that wasn’t playing and you felt your son kick. You smiled, the light you thought you’d lost was slowly lighting again. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The contractions were horrible. Nothing you had ever felt before. You were screaming and clutching James’ hand as you were being wheeled into the hospital room. Nurses and doctors poked and prodded at your skin, asking you questions you weren’t capable of answering due to the immense pain you were feeling. Your legs were propped up and James moved closer to you, still holding your hand. The doctor came to stand between your legs before sitting in a chair. He nodded to James while you sobbed out as a new wave of pain washed over you. “Alright, Mrs. Barnes, push.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your schedule was thrown off balance a bit, you had a newborn now. You still did the majority of the things the same, wake up, make breakfast, get James Jr, or Bucky as a nickname, and feed him, see James off to work, clean up, bathe and dress Bucky, clean and dress yourself up, make lunch because it was important for breastfeeding now, walk around to settle Bucky for a nap, cook dinner, greet James, feed Bucky, get him ready for bed, have sex with James, and sleep yourself. 

You loved your son unconditionally, he slept in the crib next to you and James’ bed for now. “Easier access” James had said. You didn’t mind, you were closer with the love of your life. 

James held your wrists in one hand as he thrusted into you, his hips crushing into yours at fast and hard rhythm that was sure to leave bruises. His moans and skin slapping skin was the only thing you could hear in the room, Bucky was sleeping soundly. 

“Fuck, your pussy is so good for me. Still so tight, even after Bucky. Shit I’m gonna cum, gonna fill you up so you can give me a girl. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, James.”

“Mmm, good girl. My good girl.” James finished inside you, grunting in the process. He rolled over and released a long breath. “You’re such a good mom, doll. Such a good wife.” He sleepily rambled. You hummed in response and rolled over to face Bucky, watching as his tiny hands scrunched into fists and his steady breaths caused his chest to rise and fall. His light blue and grey onesie and matching hat barely fit, he was growing faster than you thought any baby did. You’d ask James to buy more soon. Maybe he would let you go too, picking out baby clothes for your son would make you so happy. You’d work towards it, make James’ favorite meal and might even throw in a few blowjobs. 

Bucky’s face started to contort and he soon started to fuss, his pacifier falling out of his mouth. You looked at the time and knew it was time for his feeding. He ate a lot but that’s just what a growing boy like him needed, plenty of food. You picked him up before he could wake James and guided him to your nipple. He stopped crying and started sucking, looking at you with big blue eyes like his father. You let you fist wrap around your finger as you slightly rocked and quietly hummed. Bucky was the light you needed in your life. He made your soul glow again, and he gave you hope for the future. Hidden in the dressure was money you were slowly stealing from James. Five dollars here, another ten there. By this time next year you’d have enough money to leave with your son Bucky. You’d leave with your sisters to live in a house Anne had found in Germany. 

Bucky let go of your breast and cooed. He looked at you with sleepy eyes as he let out a small yawn. You smiled. “With every heartbeat I have left, I will defend your last breath.” You promised your son. He was the light, and you felt you could sleep peacefully at last knowing he was right there with you.

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@jtargaryen18​

[babbushka]

Hello darlin'! For this beautiful Sinday I'd love some sweet (and maybe a lil saucy) shenanigans with our boy taking 007 to one of his many hideouts for a weekend and showing his best jewelry creations, letting her pick her favorite, and just being the cutie that he is. Thank you love youuuu

Anonymous said:  Thank you for all the writing to come today! I don’t have anything specific, but I’d love it if you could please do Kylo being possessive, protective, or wanting to stake a claim on you lol. Thank you!

(1.6k NSFW; fingering/mirror shenanigans) 

You’re grateful for your trained poker face, when he lifts his hands from your eyes. You didn’t know where you were, both in terms of where in this mansion and where in the world, as Kylo had whisked you away abruptly for one of his rest trips that he has begun to steal you for with rapidly increasing occasion.

The room is bulletproof, that much you can tell. Steel walls, and most likely steel flooring underneath the beautifully plush carpeting. The walls themselves are padded with black velvet and designed to resemble that of a museum, with little lights illuminating all sorts of shelves, and the jewelry which is placed proudly on display in them.

He has led you here from his bedroom with boyish excitement and charm, and you had followed, and you are doing your best now to not openly gasp and the glittering array of jewels before you.

“If you brought me here to show off,” You whisper, for any other volume feels inappropriate in the presence of such sheer wealth, “Consider your mission successful.”

Kylo chuckles softly at that as he walks away from you. You don’t know what to touch, where to even look, where to go or what to do, so you just stand there as Kylo goes over to a control panel in the wall.

“Good to know, but no, I’ve got far more sinister plans for you.” He hums playfully, and you try your best to tear your eyes away from the millions of dollars worth of necklaces, bracelets, tiaras, rings, and earrings in this room.

“Oh do tell Kylo, your plans are always quite…involved.” You try your best, but still you fail, because he has just flicked a few switches on the panel.

The switch automated cabinet doors and drawers, and suddenly more jewelry is revealed to you, and you do gasp now, for you were certain you’d never seen such a collection in your entire life – and you’d seen quite a few collections.

It’s not surprising, not really, considering he is a world renowned jeweler. His diamonds are fitted into pieces made for royalty all across the globe, for celebrities, for the ultra rich and famous. They are distinctly opulent, and they are distinctly Kylo Ren. Still, it’s dazzling, the way they refract the light so beautifully, dizzying.

Even more dizzying when he says, “Pick anything.”

You fold your arms across your chest and shake your head in disbelief, eyes wide.

“You can’t mean that.” You protest, but Kylo simply takes a step towards you and smooths his palms up your arms, gives you a very serious look for a moment, looks so deep into your soul that you’re almost afraid of what he’ll find there.

“I never say something I don’t mean.” He replies, before he’s lighthearted once again and walking around the room, arms spread wide in a grand gesture of theatrics. “Anything in this entire room is yours for the taking, should you want it.”

“No.” You say suddenly, an idea of your own forming.

“No?” Kylo frowns, grows shy. You’d never rejected one of his gifts before, and the strange disappointment flits across his face for a moment, but he doesn’t understand your meaning.

“No I don’t mean no no, just, ” You try to explain, “Only let me pick one. And then, if I’m good, perhaps I’ll get to come back again and pick something else.” You bite your lip ever so slightly, hoping he catches on.

Hoping that he hears your words, hears how you don’t want this to be a one and done moment in time, hears how you want him to keep whisking you away, keep stealing you from life’s responsibilities, keep hiding you away on remote islands all for himself. You stare at one another, and he blushes beautifully, all the way to the tips of his ears, because he hears it, he hears you.

“You’re right, of course. Just one, whichever is your favorite.” He replies, and you smile at him meaningfully, before taking a turn around the room.

You can barely bring yourself to touch these gems, for upon closer inspection they’re not just diamonds, but rubies and sapphires, emeralds and pearls, in a cascading range of colors from deep rich tones to just hints of tints and everything in between.

Picking up a piece here or there, you raise it up to your eye, and the way the world splits into facets through it is mesmerizing.

“What are you looking for?” Kylo asks, genuinely curious as he leans casually against the wall by the panel.

“Tracking devices, hidden cameras, microphones – the usual.” You joke, and that elicits an amused hum from him as he makes his way over to where you are, near the section of diamond rings on black velvet posts.

“You’ll find none of that here, I promise.” He asks for your hand, and you give it to him. He picks up a random diamond ring, something simple, nothing too outrageous in design aside from the sheer size of the stones. He slips it easily onto your index finger, and it fits perfectly, like he knew just your size and made it for you. “Nothing but beauty for a beauty.”

He turns you both around to face a mirror, where he tucks himself behind you, rests his chin on your shoulder. Kissing up and down the exposed area of your throat, Kylo molds himself to your body, nothing but warmth and strength, firm muscle.

“You like seeing me in your designs, is that it?” You tease, only in jest, but when he eyes go dark and they glitter the same way these diamonds do, your breath catches in your throat.

“I like the world seeing you in them better.” He replies very seriously, his broad hand skimming up up up your thigh, pushing the mini-skirt of your dress up with it.

“Ah of course.” You let yourself relax in his embrace, as his hand slips past your panties and his fingers immediately dip between your folds. Coaxing out slick from your pussy, they crook inside of you, making you take in a sharp inhale, “I –oh, oh Kylo.”

“One look at this and the entire gala would know where you got it, they’d know I gave it to you special.” Kylo’s fingers are so big and thick, they fill you up deliciously, so well that the hand which bears the diamond ring flies down to hold onto his wrist, keeps him there as you lean back back back against his body.

He holds you tight with his other arm as his fingers thrust slowly in and out of your pussy, nothing but the sound of hot breathing in your ear, nothing but the sound of your moans panting and bouncing against the walls of the room as his massages your clit and makes your knees buckle.

“Tell me Kylo, is that something you want? You want them all to know that I’m special? That I’m yours?” You manage, egging him on, spurring him on. The very thought of it has his hand grinding up against your cunt, has his fingers seeking out your gspot while his thumb rubs at your clit and makes you see stars.

“Are you?” Kylo sucks on your neck, sucks bruises and marks there that claim you as his own, sucks and bites and soothes the sting of pleasure pain with his tongue as he drags moans out of your throat, “Are you mine?”

“I don’t b-belong to anyone – oh yes!” You stammer out, your eyes shut tight and your mouth drops open, and Kylo’s cock is achingly hard in his pressed trousers from the sight of it, from your reflection in the mirror.

He can picture it now, the way you’d look in his bed wearing nothing but his diamonds, the way you’d look descending a grand staircase somewhere in Vienna or Argentina or Australia, the way everyone would stop and turn and stare, knowing that someone had just taken you apart, and that someone was him.

“I know, but if you did, would it be me?” He begs, begs in the way his fingers speed up, the way that he collects your slick and smears it back and forth all across your pussy, fucks it back into you for lubrication, kisses and bites at the shell of your ear as he does, as you grow ever closer to your orgasm.

“If I did, then yes – yes, yes, yes Kylo!” You’re shouting, shouting out your pleasure and relief as you come on his hand, as your body shudders and your knees give out and he has to hold onto you so you don’t fall, his hand leaving your pussy regretfully so he can turn you back around and crush you to his chest.

When Kylo kisses you, you melt into it, melt into the way that you both know that you’re each other’s forever, forever and ever. You kiss until the aftershocks of pleasure disappear, and all you’re left with is the glow of an orgasm that settles deep in your ribs.

You decide that the ring, though randomly selected, is you favorite in the room. You never want to take it off, you want it to live on your index finger for as long as you live, and this makes him happy beyond belief. But it’s time to go now, he tells you, as he sucks off your come from his hand and once clean, uses it to blindfold you as he walks you out of the room.

You’ll be back, you both know, back to this room, this island, wherever you are.

You don’t know where you are, but you are with Kylo Ren, and that is enough.